#There's no way Goose even made it to the car before he hit his knees

[skelliko]

kazutora hanemiya |°- identify discovered

๑- plot summary: y/n is in a different gang (wilder lands, (i made it up) ) but tries to hide her identity as a girl with a mask and ect, but then gets found out

a/n- [this is the first part of a fanfic I'm currently writing just out of boredom] nvm its on haitus

°- Kazutora hanemiya (Walhalla)

a little run-in was certainly not what they both expected, but it was something that the other wanted. upon seeing the person in front of kazutora with a black mask covering half of his face and a gang's jacket having the name 'wilder land' written downwards the left sleeve, it's made clear that he's the one that has infiltrated Walhalla's territory.

• the jacket is black all over and has the gangs symbol of a white rat from behind and as well as the name of the gang written downwards on one sleeve

• wears a mask to cover up her identity, for her daily life and so other members don't recognise her to be a girl

"you rat!" Kazutora immediately called out making y/n to get a little frightened due to her not needing this run-in so soon after some recent events that she previously had to deal with, she's not fully recovered enough to deal with this right now.

"shit" y/n whispered to herself before trying to sprint away from him, she knows her limits and doesn't dare to overstep them in case she misses a step, so running right now instead of getting into a 1V1 fight is the best option. but even then, stamina is still pretty low.

"oi don't run away you wuss!" kazutora yells from behind but soon enough the large gap they had when they first noticed each other was caught up and it was a close goose chase.

the mask that y/n wore didn't exactly help with her breathing so for a short moment she lowered it down below her chin so she could breathe properly, kazutora was behind so the only way he could see her was if he moved to the front.

turning corner to corner, and risking herself by running across roads hoping to not get hit by a car, it was getting exhausting and her legs were starting to get strained, even a stitch has developed on the side of y/n's stomach from running too much.

y/n ended up running into an abandoned warehouse with the first doors already wide open. old, broken crates and boxes sat by the sides and litter scattered around the floor such as empty bottles and wrapping, there's a high chance that it's probably someone's hideout but a good risk to take nevertheless if it means possible escape. y/n put the mask back on over her mouth and nose and stopped in her tracks to look past the doorway to see if the Walhalla's number 3 is still lingering by or not,

bending down a little to rest her hands above her knees to catch her breath while staring down the doorway without blinking, for a moment it seemed like she had managed to get away but that thought didn't relax her since anticipation floated around instead, and exactly then kazutora's shoes skit the gravel underneath him and stopped In front of the open doors where y/n's eyes were locked in at, "I'll snap your legs in half so you stop running!" he exclaims almost scarily enthusiastically, potential adrenaline kicking inside of him

panic flooded y/n making her jump slightly and upon instinct she whipped out a small blade from her pocket in case she had to engage in a fight, the silver blade glistened from the light and kazutora stopped in his tracks for a split second before he continued to keep moving, he both found this chase aggravating and entertaining. he certainly was the tiger and her being the rat.

her body trembled slightly from the strain that she had to endure and her mind was close to becoming foggy so she tried to run despite if doing so she wouldn't get anywhere far and instead just collapse on the ground, but it's still an option to take.

either run till you pass out or pass out getting beaten.

hurriedly running towards the other end of the warehouse where the two back doors are shut, upon reaching the two doors and almost painfully smashing the side of her shoulder against the door and wobbling the handle to try and open it but all it did was make the doors rattle, they were locked.

before she could do anything else a hard wack crossed the side of her face and a forceful arm took hold of her, as if a large snake had curled up and begun to choke her neck. kazutora had hit y/n and had placed her in a chokehold.

Kazutora won't admit but he had noticed an off feeling about the guy who he chased down, something such as a feminine feel but if questioned kazutora wouldn't be able to answer why, other than 'smaller than most'. but the thought immediately went away when he noticed the previous blade in the 'rats' hand was nearing Kazu's arm so with the other hand kazutora loosened the choke hold to grab hold of the blade resulting in Y/n being in no shape or position in having the higher advantage. other than her having propper airway now,

in this very moment she was weak, before the chase she was weak, maybe if caught at another time she wouldn't have been the rat.

kazutora inspected the blade that was now in his hands for a second or two before waving it around next to the side of y/n's face out of humour, nausea grew over her and almost nothing made sense to her anymore, was it the sprinting in the cold weather making her temperature jump from hot to cold?

"shouldn't play with knives" he mocks and a smile crosses over his lips, his eyes then fell onto the black mask and curiosity flooded his mind, "firstly, let's see what's under the mask ey? gotta know who's the one trying to sneak out information" kazutora then pinched the middle of the mask and forced it off from her with the straps sliding over her ears.

y/n's warm body from when she started to feel sick then fell back down into a normal temperature as cool air flowed through her mouth. she's aware of what's happening, and is aware that if she tried to move she'd only struggle, so the only option she had was to face it, deal with it and just suck it up.

in kazutora's mind, who was known to be a 'boy' is actually a girl. he stared at her not him for what felt like both a long and short moment. he didn't know what to do, he couldn't tell if his eyes were even working, maybe this person in front of him is actually a guy but just looks like a girl??

"you gonna keep staring or what?" y/n finally spoke, a bit of a worn out, raspy voice was heard but her voice was certainly one a girl would have. at that moment kazutora realised it was his first time hearing the person talk but also at that moment realising that person is a girl.

"you..." he let go of her and took two quick steps backwards but gripped the blade that he had previously taken off from her. he didn't know what to think, the whole time that's a girl? his eyes darted all across her, from head to toe and was unsure if he should still try to attack or not. despite being an enemy of Toman, old habits and rules still stick by him, to not harm girls. but nevertheless, if she were to lunge forwards he wouldn't hesitate to fight back.

y/n also took a few steps backwards and turned around to face him while bringing up a hand up to where she previously got hit, a hint of awkwardness lingered between the two as any clear direction of what to do next was pretty much out of the window

y/n hesitated briefly upon speaking up, biting her lower lip as her eyes darted around kazutora not daring to take her eyes off him, pain from when he had hit her previously rose up on the side of her temple making her endure the pressure, she cleared her throat briefly before finally speaking up "will you... rat me out?"

though right after this words were spoken she cringed, why wouldn't he tell her secret out? she's been lying about being a guy for quite some time and even then she's the one that infiltrated his hideout to evedrop and be a secret nuisance

"why shouldn't I?" he straightened himself up a bit but still had his guard up and shifted the knife in his grasp. 'not a bad looker' he briefly thought but that wasn't his main thought at all,

"don't know. forget I asked" she replied almost immediately after,

"...I'm gonna quickly ignore the reveal and cut to the main part for now, the fuck were to doing spying on us and what do you know?" he firmly spoke up,

"what if I don't say anything?" knowing that playing around and testing the waters isn't the best option but considering how he reacted when realising that y/n is a girl and chose to let go of her that couldn't be ignored and instead used as an advantage

"you-! I would have punched you so hard if you were a guy!"

"no please do, I know I fucked up so I'll take a hit, i can put back on my male persona so it's easier for you, just please hit me" she sounded desperate with the thought of feeling physical pain other than being pained that she will soon enough have nowhere to belong if this secret gets out, what else is there for her?

a lot actually, but she doesn't want that.

"the hells wrong with you now? just what kind of secrets are you hiding?" he took a singular and small step forwards but all y/n did was shuffle her footing only going back by an inch.

"okay maybe that came out a little unexpected but I have all the reasons but none to give" she admitted

"stop trying to say smart things and just spit the information out would you! I don't have the time and I won't make time" he's clearly growing impatient

"I fucked up, that's all! I thought I was doing the right thing cause you can't keep your guys in control and their prowling around our turf so why couldn't I?" she busted the word out

"stupidity is all I hear, I can't even tell if that's a lie or the truth seeing its coming out from you..."

"...I'm still conflicted about you being a girl, how do you get away with that so easily?" he was starting to get cautious now and pry interest into the topic "and most of all why?"

"wasn't and isn't easy for various reasons but the reason for why i did all this in the first place is something that i cant and simply won't share, i aint one to just give out personal information like that"

"oh? so you can sneak into our hideout, pry around when we're not looking and listen in into our conversations and run around freely but cant say why you pretended to be a guy? why a girl like you chose to live the lifestyle of gangs and violence?" kazutora became a bit more intimidating and if not that, then definitely a lot more forward and critical while walking closer to her,

"tell me, why does a girl like you think that you have what it takes? why do you carry around a knife but can't use? all you can do is run around and act like you know what you're doing but you don't" he brought the knife up and pointed it at her chin before speaking up again, "quit playing pretend and actually become useful for something, delinquency or harsh reality isn't meant for you"

whilst still pointing the knife at her he took a step backwards and let go of it letting it hit the smooth, yet worn out and jagged concrete with a clang, he looked at y/n as if he was searching some sort of reaction from her but all he could find was nothing, just dull eyes and an expression that can't be explained which he considered to be strange but without sparing another second he started to walk away in the direction of the first entrance to the warehouse.

in his mind he thought of y/n to be like any other girl, weak-minded and secretly has a perfect life, a little spoiled and has a functioning family. but that's far from the reality that he's unaware of, he can't help but think that she was trying to prove something that she can't prove and never will be. maybe to what y/n had heard kazutora say to be mean but to himself he considers that to be a teaching for her to try and not get involved in places where she knows she doesn't belong in.

though he barely knows her and doesn't even know her name, which thinking of that now made him slow down his walking and debate on going back, but what would he gain from a name of a random girl? so he just kept on walking.

even with hearing footsteps hitting the gravel from behind him he kept walking away not expecting much from the girl, though that was mistaken cause his steady balance was taken away and he fell flat forwards and heavy pressure was placed on his back, his chest pressed against the sharp graven was like laying down on bent screws.

the side of kazutora's head was laid down on the ground and his eyes looking up at y/n,

he could have easily tried and pushed her off to the side and gotten up however one thing that did fully register in his mind was a sharp, metal point underneath his jaw. the previous knife.

"I expect you to keep it a secret, I didn't gain shit from walking into your turf so there's no need for you to gain anything from this" she spoke quite harshly but never rose her voice,

one knee pressed against the upper center of kazutora's back and with one hand she took hold of one of his wrists and forced his arm down to the gravel while with her other hand she dug in the blade into his skin, she only dug a little, enough for it to cause discomfort as the very tip of the blade is hidden from skin being pressed inwards.

"your not gonna do anything" kazutora spoke through his teeth

"no I won't, but that doesn't mean I don't have an advantage, I mean I could probably give you a neat scar... or better yet ruin that tattoo"

"don't try and speak all highly, the hell is it with you?" he spoke back, barely reacting to the situation

"I'm sure it's quite obvious what I want, I don't need you running your mouth around and ruining what I have, i-"

and just then it seemed like y/n's strength wasn't able to pin kazutora down for long, that must have been obvious when pressing a knee down to his back since his stiff back could be felt, and also the hand size comparison when she took hold of his wrist.

y/n was now on her back and it was a painful pin due to the gravel and the different-sized rocks scattered around outside the warehouse, how she knows how he felt around the ribs

kazutora is now sat on top of her with one hand holding both of her wrists together and with the other hand he pointed the blade that he took away by twisting her wrist, the blade under her chin quite similar to before but now touching her skin how she did to him.

"you bitch" y/n whispered but it was clear enough for anyone to hear that so happen to be as close as kazutora is

"I wanna know why your so keen on being kept in a gang? do you hate baking cupcakes? do you not have any friend's? why don't you go home and watch some sappy romcom"

"your just thinking of a stereotypical girl" this is getting awfully annoying for her but same goes for him having to deal with this,

but just then a thought appeared, why not try and pester him a little. "what happened to you being in toman? I thought they were all about keeping a girl safe" she then tried to move her wrists away since he was holding them up and not pinned down but that was useless because it did more bad than good cause it made her shoulderblades to dig deeper into the gravel and him just pulling her hands back like a leash to an eager dog

"the fuck you say?" clear anger and almost confusion filled his expression, even his grip around her wrists increased and he began to dig his short nails into her skin making her to hold her breath

he leaned down just a little "Mention toman again and ill make sure you understand how much things are different from then to now" his whole mood has switched up, sure previously he was already quite annoyed but this is completely different

"don't mention anything about me then, and I won't tell anyone about there's a spy working for you"

he lowered his chin a little as his mind began to think of what she meant but then it finally clicked, kisaki. 

he couldn't help but stay silent for a brief moment, 'so she does know something after all, if she knows that much then certainly she knows everything else' he avoided eye contact with her and looked off to the side, he stopped digging his nails into her skin and relaxed a little causing the knife that he was holding to loosen a little away from her skin, but didn't let go.

after a few seconds y/n spoke up but then got cut off,

"so what does that-?"

"Why don't you shut up! should have kept the mask on so I really could've punched you"

his mood is currently all over the place, jumping from line to line between being angry and annoyed to needing to admit defeat and sort things out quickly. he can't stay here forever.

being a girl really does have its advantages, but that doesn't mean it'd work for everyone or simply anyone, just got lucky that it was at least kazutora who used to be in toman that was learnt not to harm girls, if it were any other walhalla member then y/n would have definitely had a few broken fingers so that she would never be able to pick up a knife or let alone a fork.

after another short moment of silence and tension kazutora made a move and drew back the blade as well as slowly let go of her wrists, he got off from her but couldn't help but feel a little humiliated by the whole situation and the position.

"I'm keeping the blade" is all he said as he took a few steps away and turned back to look at her

"on cmon don't be a prick" she protested and sat up from the ground, wincing a little as the gravel fell down from the back but the relief quickly flooded over her upon him being off of her,

kazutora turned back around briefly, "me being a prick would be telling everyone just who you are and nailing you inside of one of those empty crates-" he pointed at the open door to the warehouse that had some crates inside "-and me being stupid would be to give it back the second time"

he did have a fair point, not so long ago he was being threatened with it. she scoffed and stood up from the ground and brushed down any dust and dirt that stuck to her clothes, "fair enough" she mumbled not exactly wanting to admit it

"What's your name?" he wants to at least know something more. clogs are still turning in his head as he's still trying to process it all, the rival gang member that is occasionally seen around Walhalla's territory as if he's searching for something... has always been a girl,

she thought about it a little before replying, though the name that she gave was her fake name. the name she uses in the life of delinquency.

"f/n"

"only giving one name? fine by me" kazutora knew it was a fake, but trying to interrogate something small as a name would be pointless, he'd seen her around before and would definitely see her again. except with some change, still an enemy though.

"Okay f/n... tell me how much you know about Walhalla and what you've heard and I won't say a thing about you" he took a step forward prepared to grab hold of her if she tried to run, even though there was no good in running

she shuffled her footing a little and thought of a good response before replying,

"enough to know that 'wilder lands' and 'tokyo manji' could be potential allies, if not, then be on mutual terms. enough information to make your plans fail"

she spoke confidently but inside her mind, she wasn't even sure, and one thing that did come out of kazutora was clear annoyance and even disgust as she spoke about allying with Toman, so freely too.

Walhalla is just a mix of Tokyo manji haters with past grudges and unresolved fights.

"just cut the crap and spit it out, I don't need to keep asking"

"no one's asking you to do that. you already know what I know and I know what you know about me. let's just leave it at that, you wouldn't want anyone to see us having a little chit-chat making suspicions, would you?"

she tried to get him to lay it off but also make his nerves flame up.

he was practically looking down on her, girl or not she's still a rival, a pest that won't go away that thinks they're in a clear just cause no one noticed them, or maybe they have noticed but can't do anything about it due to other, bigger concerns.

which in his case would be to firstly take down Tokyo manji.

'Wilder Lands' and 'Walhalla' can barely be called enemies but also nowhere near being mutual. They're not at each other's throats, digging daggers into their ribs but instead throwing little pins at the back of their necks back and forth,

fights sometimes tend to break out both day and night between the two different members, using punches and kicks and even to play dirty with bats and pipes on some good days. but then go to not even bat an eye at each other the second they've gone 5cm past.

a lot of the time it's always the same people though, at this point it's like a constant rematch but no one's counting points.

how did all that even start? from an over arrogant Walhalla member bickering with a 'wilder lands' and constant words being spat at each other, from that point onwards it just grew to be a moment to waste time from both sides and have an excuse to hate.

sometimes it gets out of hand though, it's not always pathetic bickering but also some broken bones and jaws if not stopped quickly. currently not all fun and games.

--

kazutora dropped the topic and watched as y/n took out a new black mask from her trouser pocket. her previous one was taken off and dropped on the floor back in the warehouse just a few steps away from them, it's probably all dusty and filthy.

"now that I look at you, you sure don't seem all that of a guy" he connected a few dots from before and now and compared her to any other guy. even with the baggy uniform more points clicked in his mind.

"just shut up and leave" she rolled her eyes at his comment but didn't ignore it, 'i should probably try and do more work on my disguise, probably try using make-up or something' even though that's not exactly the main problem.

but he still hadn't left, kazutora still lingered by with more questions. "how long have you been part of the whole thing? and can you even fight?- how are you even still alive?" thought he was more or so mocking her rather than being curious

"long enough, I'm leaving" is all she had to say before turning around and walking off, occasionally would turn her head back to see if he was still there but by the second turn she saw his back walking away in the opposite direction.

she wasn't there to have a little chat, though neither was kazutora, he just wanted to see if he could get something out of her, though y/n was sure not to give too much Information about herself even though the questions he asked weren't all that personal but trust issue always poked at her brain and told her to shut up.

they'll definitely meet again but under different circumstances than before.

 ♡----

[sab3rto0thed]

actually, when people ask what you do for fun, you say you tell stories. mostly, your stories are about a girl. love looks bad on her. it's a good premise, because love rarely looks bad on anyone.

she has probably always been this way, even cheerful and grinning with two front teeth missing. she loved to love regardless of how it made her neck hang. when the neighbor boy told her he would kill her mother if she didn't kiss him, she didn't kiss him. she was terrible at following directions.

every night of every year after that, though, she haunted the hallway by her mother's room. pale feet, wooden floorboards, shoulders locked back. love looked terrible on her, a sodden goose drowned by the legs. she would stand there minute after minute, waiting for an inhale. a greek statue, but less glamorous.

when she is fifteen, she meets a boy. he does not threaten her mother until later. he has a nice face and slightly crooked teeth, the kind of stomach that is freckled if you look hard enough.

he loved her in the way you hate someone. you kiss them and then cut their belly open from the tip of the ribcage.

love looked terrible on her. she flinched every time the knife came out, because she was terrible at following directions. it didn't matter how many times he said i love you. she learned to hate his mouth.

it was hard to let anyone near her after that. days trickled through her fingers like tap water. when a different girl with blonde hair and very dark brown eyes tried to pull her away from the sink, she did a lot of damage.

love looked very good on this girl. she had a way of warming up an entire room with just the curve of her shoulders. the girl loved her fiercely, and avoided her with the same fervor. love was a disease. she would rot from the inside out if she stayed in that room.

the girl got better at love, though. you live and you learn and you heal. she stopped looking at the mirror as a cutting instrument. her eyes, which had always seemed a little sunken, seemed more blue now. she could tie her hair back with quick maneuvers, and she had a nice smile. a genuine one.

she hadn't ever noticed that before.

she had a lot of scars from all of the years love had thrown her around. there were always a few bruises around her throat and the skin was peeled off on her left knee. she had a large incision in her upper arm.

these were the sort of marks you couldn't see unless you really loved her, and so usually, no one saw them. but love had begun to be gentler with this girl, and in turn, she had begun to be gentler as well.

love was a two-way street with very few cars, a ball park at night. love was a shout in the dark. love was the saying call me, i love you. for years, she had had no where to go. now she had plenty of places. it was a little dizzying sometimes, like a labyrinth.

she met a boy.

he never threatened her mother. when he was fifteen, he had the sort of shitty haircut and roughspun hue that made him endearing. she made a living of avoiding his mouth. he kissed her anyway.

love looked terrible on her. she triple-laced her shoes, pulled her socks over her pale calves. you could almost see the bone, and you didn't need to love her to look.

she fell in love the way you drown. each time varied in degrees of lethal. when she was fifteen, falling in love had been a handful of pills. now it was a room full of water with slow-closing walls.

she was a girl that had always been a bit drowned. she could take on a little water.

he made a fool of her in the way you have people laugh at you on purpose. he wore a perfect blue hoodie and he took handfuls of her shirt to pull her closer. she was good at not flinching, because love hadn't hit her in a long time.

(she tried not to say this part out loud, but she never felt the need to flinch around him.)

it was a good joke, then, when she did flinch. it had something to do with her thighs. she was terrible at directions. he was gone the next day, leaving her haggard in the mirror, too small in his jacket. there were better girls with fuller mouths and unmarred skin. they didn't flinch. she knew.

she ruined things. she had made a career out of it. forget college.

he said sorry. the people around her that both loved her and didn't said we've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you.

none of it mattered. what had been done had been done. a boy behind a gas station counter had given her a free coffee and a look full of pity. he knew that she had flinched.

she was a joke. love looked terrible on her.

[mav-tomcat-f14]

Ch 11 - Playing With The Boys - Top Gun Mav and Rose (OC) story.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------- A/N WC - 3288 Man did this one take me some time to do, it gets a little heated at the end. ehehe Sorry for any Spelling or Grammar mistakes Please leave feedback good or Bad I do not mind. Playing with the boys part list and summary ---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The ride to the fair was relatively peaceful. Not only that, but Mav was going slower than he usually would, and it made it even better having longer to take in the sites of the sea as we passed by. I had my head on Mav's shoulder. Now and then, I would give his cheek a small kiss making him smile happily. At some point, one of Mav’s hands made its home on my knee, It was worrying at first knowing he was driving with one hand, but I trusted him.

The fair was set up in a big car park overlooking the beach. Mav decided to park in Bar cark park, just a little down from the fair, knowing it would be easier. We also spotted Goose’s car as we pulled in, smiling to myself at how sometimes he and Mav can have the same brain without even needing to be in the same room or Jet.

Grouping up, we all made out way to the Fair. Goose and Carole walked ahead of me and Mav with Bradley between them, holding his hands now and then winging him forward as I walked next to Mav, our arms around each other waist, his hand sitting on my hip as mine slipped into this back pocket of his jeans. My head was resting on his shoulder, 

When getting to the ticket stand, Gose refused to let me and Mav pay for our ticket, saying he was paying for Family day out and that finally, knowing we could not win, we just let him be, Mav whispering he put the money in his wallet when he was not looking.

It was hard to keep Bradley in one place. He wanted to try everything at the same time. The first thing he wanted to go on was the bumper cars, pulling Goose over to the waiting line, Mav looking down at me silently asking me if I wanted a go, to which I shook my head,

“No thanks, I have never liked bumper cars. Everyone is aggressive, and I never feel like I am in control.”

I commented, I know it’s Bumper cars, and you're meant to bump into people, but I always felt like people forget what a bump is and just got for a full-on Ram. Carole then came up beside us after watching Goose and Bradley get into a two-seter car, 

“I give it up, Mav. She not going to go on any of the rides.” 

She told him a little load over the load music that was next to us, 

“I take that as a Challenge.” 

Mav commenced back, making us laugh as I bumped his hip with my own. I watched as Goose and Bradley zoomed around the ring, bumping into other people's cars. Even over the loud music and people talking, I could hear Bradley’s laugh, and it was music to my ears,

We spent more of the day walking around, letting Bradley pick what ride he wanted to go on, within reason to his age and height. I stood on the side and watched as the four of them went on a rollercoaster. Mav tried his hardest to get me to go on with them, offering to teach me how to ride his bike, to buy me anything I wanted, even with kisses, but the answer was No. I did feel a little bad seeing the small hurt look on his face when he realized he was not going to win.

Watching them made me laugh as they zoomed around, Carole and Bradley in the front seats of the first car. She had her arms around Bradley just to be on the safe side as he had his arms up, Matching his Farther and Mav, who sat right behind them, smiling like made men, arms in the air howling like wolfs.

Getting off, I hand back all their stuff. Just before Mav could pick me up and spin me around, making me squeal out of shock, 

“Next time am getting you to go on that with me.”

He told me in my ear as he put me back on the ground, my hands instantly going to my skirt, making sure it was still down, before hitting him on the chest, 

“No, you're not getting me on that. I have already to you, you can try and sweet talk me all you want. It’s not going to work.”

I informed him once again. As we started walking again, I spotted the Ferris wheel when an Idar came to mind and stepped in front of Mav as the other kept waking. I lopped my arms around his neck as he put his around my waist, smiling down at me before stealing a kiss.

“If you can win a game and get me a teddy, big or smile, it does not matter. I will go on the Ferrie Wheel with you, just us.”

I tell him. Mav looked up to the sky, making a serious thinking face before looking back at me, smirking. 

“Just us?”

“Yes, just us. I don’t think they will let five people into the same capsule.”

“You bet. Get ready to ride on the Wheel, baby.”

That was all he said as he took my hand and almost dragged me to one of the ball-tossing games where you need to hit all the cans down with only three balls. Standing in line, we watch as others tried to win, some winning and some failing, unknown to Mav. Even if he does not win, I’ll still go on the Wheel with him. You can only say no to this man so many times before you just give in, 

Mav's first round didn't go well, Missing two out of three times, but he told me it was a warm-up. His second go was better, but still no win. I know Mav was getting serious when he took off his Jaket, and instead of handing it to me to hold, he wrapped it around my shoulder. I could hear people making “Awww” sounds from behind us. His Dogtags were also hanging out of his shirt must have come out when playing another game with Goose, 

Before throwing his first ball, Mave stopped and looked at me before tapping his cheek with a finger. Smiling at him, I got on my tiptoes, giving his cheek a small kiss. Once doing so, Mav throws the ball, hitting the bottom middle can and sending all the other cans flying off the pedestal, 

Everyone around us celebrated with cheers as Mav turned to me, throwing his arms around me and kissing my Four head. As the Fair workers came up to us,

“What gif do you want, little lady? Pick anything you like.”

He told me, waving his hand around to all the teddies on the back wall and hanging from the top of the tent. I looked everywhere, seeing all sorts of Teddies, when my eyes landed on a Teddy bear sitting inside an old airplane. It had a small leather jacket and goggles on its head. Pointing to it, the worker laughed as if knowing I would pick it.

Getting onto a stool, the worker unhooked it from where it was handed, jumping down and giving it to me. As I gave him a small thank you, 

As we walked away, Mav had his arm over my shoulder, and the other taking hold of my new teddy by the back of the Plane, looking it over and laughing to himself before flying it around in fount of me and driving the nose of the plane into mine before I could catch it, 

“I think I’ll call him Mav. He can sit on my bed. And be my teddy in the night.”

I said out loud, Mav’s hold on my got tiger as he pulled me closer, 

“Why have a  teddy when you can have the real thing?”

“I can’t always stay at your Mav. No matter how much we both move that, we are already pushing the rules as it is” 

Mav nodded in agreement, knowing I was night, 

“Now, Little lady, I think it’s time to hold up your side of the deal.”

Mav said, wiggling his eyebrows, coping what the worker called me, leading us over to the Wheel. The line is much longer than all other rides. Everyone wants to get a good view of the beach. I saw Goose and the other farther up the line. Waving to them when they saw us when Goose quickly ran up to us, 

“We were looking for you two. Carole said we should get on the Wheel for a better look.”

Goose said, laughing at his Wife'sife idea, 

“We were thinking after this going to the cafe after this to get a much better lunch and candy,  that ok with you two?”

Agreeing  with Goose's idea he ran off back to his Wife, 

“I always thought candy was a good lunch.”

Mav joked, making me laugh. The line was slow to move, but I did not mind. It gave me more time to stand here in Mav’s arms, with my head on his chest, holding the teddy between us, 

“Wanna know something?”

I asked him, getting a yes in response, 

“I would have come on the Wheel with you even if you lost.”

I felt Mav's chest Virat from his laugh, making me smile, feeling his lips on the top of my head, 

“You are a cheeky thing.” 

He said into my hair,

“But you love me for it.”

“Dame, right do I love you.”

I felt the world stop around me hearing Mav say them three words. It played over and over in my head as I moved my head from his chest to look up, seeing him smiling down at me, tilting his head to the side, repeating it to me,

“You think I will not tell you I love you after all the years I have been running after you? No, sweetheart, get used to it because I am telling you it every day, and if I am lucky, I’ll get to hear it back.”

I don’t know how long I was looking at him, but I know I wanted to hear him say it one more time to know that it was real, 

“Say it again.”

Smiling at me, he moved his face just that little bit closer to his lip, just hovering over mine.

“I, love, You.” 

He softly kissed me between each word before ending it with a kiss on the tip of my nose, 

“I love you too.”

I don’t even know if the words came out of my mouth but going by Mav's smile. He then looked away in the direction of the start of the line. Shaking his head, he looked back down at me, 

“Let's skip the Wheel for today. We are going nowhere with people cutting the line, and Goose and his goslings are just coming off. Let go get some food before the sun sets,”

I had not even noticed that we were not moving. I was so engrossed with Mav that I forgot the world around me. I let Mav take my hand and lead me over to Goose and the family, or Goslings are Mav just called them, 

“I thought you were going on the Wheel?”

 “We would if the line would move. We would be here all night if we stayed.”

Mav  Tells her as we start to make out way out of the Fair. Wrapping my arms around, I lay one on his belly and give it a tap

“I think Mav just wants to eat food instead of spending time with me on the Wheel.”

I joke as Mav makes a shocking sound, 

“Don’t listen to her. That's a lie. How dear you say that”

Mav acting dramatic has to be one of the funniest things I could ever watch.

“No, Carole, it’s true you should have heard his stomach grow the moment Goose said something about food.”

I continued, but Mav put a hand over my mouth, making me laugh, as Carole just smiled at us playing about.

“I know she, you sister-in-law, but would I ever lie to you?”

OH, he just walked right into this one, Pulling his hand away from my mouth. 

“Says the man who ate your last homemade ice cream sandwiches and blamed it on you when you were pregnant, saying it was one of your mad cravings moment.”

I said, spilling the secrets and watching Carole's face change into real shock, 

“You..”

At that moment, Mav’s face said, ‘Oh shit.’

“You eat it, and you lied to a pregnant woman, Not only that but to Goose. How could you.”

I know she is not really mad at Mav because, unknown to him, I already told her who really ate it years ago, but the look of slight panic on his face is priceless. Mav looked at me, then to Carole again, his mouth opening and closing, thinking of something to say. As I back away from him, leaving him to deal with Carole himself, with the biggest shit-eating grin on my face.

But even Carole could not keep a straight face and started laughing, 

Mav looked between us like he was watching a tennis game until he finally worked it out and looked right at me. I smile and wave at him as a devilish smile comes over his face as he points at me,

As Mav moves closer to me, I keep moving back. As his pace gets faster, so does mine, until I turn and run, laughing as I did, hearing Mav yelling he is going to get me I can’t run forever.

I made it out of the fair and halfway to Mav's bike before two strong arms wrapped around me from behind, picking me up and spinning me around. I knew who it was. There was no need to fight, 

“Told you I get you.”

He told me, out of breath in my ear, 

“Never said you could not, but I know you like the chase.”

I replied. Once my feet were on the ground, Mav spun me around and kissed me hard on the lips as his hands roamed my body, coming down to my ass and giving it a slight squeeze. Without breaking the kiss, he picked me up, wrapping my legs around him, letting him carry me off to where ever he wanted. I could not care. I just wanted to keep kissing him.

He soon placed me down, and from the feel of the cold metal and leather touching my legs, I knew It was his bike, 

We pulled apart breathless, my eyes still closed, smiling as I felt his lips kiss along my Jaw and down my neck biting ever so slightly on my skin when he got to my collar bone, his hands sliding under my skirt. One of my hands ran up and down his chest feeling his hard musical under it, as the other pulled on his Dogtags, 

“I need you to put a dress on more often.”

He spoke into my kiss as he kissed along my shoulder, then back again to my neck. I could not hold back the moan that escaped my mouth.

“If you're going to kiss me like this, I don’t think I should in public.”

Mav laughed at my comment before pulling away to look me in the eyes. I could get lost in his eyes forever. They just feel like home. They always have, even before this all started, 

“I can’t help it when you look this good, but I'll keep my hands to myself next time.”

As he spoke, he moved his hands off and went to step back up. I stopped him. With my fingers still on his dog tags, I pulled him back, so his hands now sat on either side of my on the bike and his face just millimeters from mine, biting my lip as I looked all over his face before settling on his eyes,

“I never told you to stop. I just said I don't think I should in public.”

He was on me again. The kiss was hotter and hungrier as his hands went again up my skirt, this time going further up till his finger touched the edge of the shorts I had on. I let his tongue with the batter that was going on in my mouth, moaning at the taste of him, my hand now in his hair pulling him closers, as one of my legs lopped over his waist, pulling him closer that way as well, trying to get no space between our bodies, 

“Mav”

Moaning out his name when he pulled away to attack my neck just set him off, even more, his hands now on my ass, Pulling out cores right against each other as I felt him roll his hips into me, making me moan his name again, 

I know we should stop. We are one step away from being indecent in public, but I can’t bring myself to stop. I want this, I want him, and I’ll willingly let him take me on his bike right now. Nothing was stopping me from unzipping his jeans, pulling him out, and just pulling the shorts to the side and letting him slide into me, and I was about to when the sound of my Brother's Voice snapped us both out of this Lust frenzy,

“Holly fuck can you two wait until you get home, please, there are kids around, not to forget the group of creepy men watching the two for you from the bar window.”

Upon hearing him, Mav jumped off me, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as I pulled my skirt back down. I could feel how red my face must be it felt on fire, from the embarrassment that my brother just caught me and Mav making out and also from how Hot Mav can make me feel.

I looked to the Bar to see a small group of men by one of the windows. I looked to see Carole next to Goose, holding Bradley on her hip, who thankfully was looking away from us all. I smiled shyly at her as she just gave me a wink. I did not even know what to say or if I should say anything, 

“Do I need to give her a lift to the Cafe? Just so you both make it there in one piece.”

“No” 

Mav answered Goose so fast. It made Goose laugh out loud, shaking his head as he held the car door open for his wife to get in before running around to the driver's side, 

“Don’t take too long, kids.”

That was all he said before getting in his car and driving off, leaving Mav and me alone again, 

When Mav and I finally looked at each other again, we could not help but burst into laughter. I reached a hand out to him, which it took instantly, lifting it to his lips and kissing it. He then started to kiss up my arms, 

“Mav, no, we need to go,”

He stopped looking up at me, smiling, as he kissed my lips, softly this time, 

“Just know that I’m not done with you.”

Hearing him say that sent a shiver down my spine and a hot feeling between my legs. I had to squeeze my legs closed and tuck my hands behind my back to stop myself from wanting to grab this man and finish what we started.

[oneshotnewbie]

Your works are insanely good wow! Could I please request anoter one where the reader is Amelia’s little sister and Arizona’s gf and the three of them get into a car accident where the reader is off worse (she’s in the backseat and stuck and Amelia keeps holding her hand and stroking her head and Arizona is hysterical) Amelia and Arizona try to keep the person they love the most alive but are scared out of their mind.

An exhausting day was successfully behind you and you have never been as overtired as you were in all the years of your studies and five years of internship as a surgeon.

A bus accident where the bus overturned and injured thirty people, including almost half of them young children, was on your agenda today. A lot of them had only minor wounds and injuries that needed care and their parents had to be informed, but some had harder injuries and had to undergo emergency surgery. One of them was a 14-year old girl who not only had internal bleeding and a ruptured spleen and liver, a collapsed lung due to a fractured rib and a severe cerebral hemorrhage.

She was your patient and you could no longer save this young soul, it was too late.

You usually had no problem to stay away from emotions, but telling her parents that her only daughter passed away, broke your heart and left you in a negative emotional state. If you could, you would swap places with her just so she could still enjoy her young years into her old.

No one so young and innocent deserved to die that cruel way.

You sat in the car with your sister and your girlfriend, looked out the window in the back seat and were so lost in thought that you didn't pay attention to them both.

Only when the car came to a standstill and a hand found it's place on your knee and squeezed, it tore you out of your thoughts. You looked into the blue, also tired eyes, which were colored in a dark purple by the red traffic lights.

A small smile crossed her face. You gently placed your hand on hers, which was still on your knees, and intervened your fingers with hers as you focused on the music that was playing from the radio.

The radio was all trash and some penniless musician screamed his heart out, presumably to get the attention of some teenage girls. Annoyed by his voice and the nonsense you could her in the lyrics he sang, you asked Amelia if she could turn off the radio.

When the music went out, you sighed briefly and went over your curly hair. At the same time, you played with the delicate ring on your finger. An heirloom from your grandma. Heaven, how you missed her.

The red glowing car turned green and started moving. You saw Arizona's gaze turned to you in the rear view mirror before you could drift back into your thoughts until you heard a scream and a loud bang. The car you were in was hit by a Jeep and let you slip several meters on the street before it came to a stop on a tree.

---

"Y/N!" did you hear a dull voice that sounded like a tunnel as it mixed with the tinnitus in your ears. "Y/N, come on sweetie, wake up!" this time louder, more aggressive.

Slowly opening your eyes, you looked into the face of your brown-haired sister. Almost immediately when you noticed that she had a big laceration above her brow that was bleeding quite a bit, you snatched your eyes completely open and startled.

Pumped full of adrenaline, you weren't aware that you, in fact, were more injured than she was. You weren't even aware of what just had happened. You just knew that she was bleeding. "Amy, you are bleeding!" you stated out loud.

Your body's self-mechanism immediately caused your arms to wander towards her head. In the middle of your movement, you winced and screamed out loud. A bolt of lighting pervaded your shoulder and chest, you could tell with certainty that your collarbone was broken.

"Don't worry about me, I am fine." she said softly and briefly disappeared from your already restricted view by the smoke. "Arizona, she is awake. Calm down, please."

Until recently, you didn't even notice the screaming and crying that was silenced by the ringing in your ears. Only after you could concentrate on the outside world and your ears went back to normal, did you realize who the screaming was coming from.

"Arizona." your voice was barely audible and scratchy through the fumes. Your throat started to feel dry and sandy like scratch paper.

Her face appeared at your completely cracked window. She also had a few scratches on her face, a nosebleed and a split lip, probably from the airbag that came out of her steering wheel. She was visibly shocked and it was almost impossible to find out what she was talking about through all the sobs and incomplete sentences caused by the panic.

"We have to get her out here fast, Arizona so concentrate!" shouted Amelia and reappeared in front of you, this time she was sitting in the passenger seat and tried as slowly as possible and not causing you any pain, to crawl on the free space next to you.

As the car moved as she tried to get to you, shock waves ran from your neck all the way down to your lower back. You closed your eyes in pain and immediately felt a cool wind blowing in your face.

"Try to keep your body still. It was a pretty heavy impact and you were hit the most."

Arizona was still crying hysterical by your side as she put her jacket over her hand and tried to knock out the rest of the glass in the window to get to you better and safer.

Soon enough, you felt cold fingers on your neck that slowly and carefully placed it on the back of the seat and held it while your sister checked you from top to bottom which injuries you had.

Slowly the pain moved further into the distance, the headache was now also filled with dizziness and you felt nauseous. As time passed, you became more tired and you felt too weak to speak. Your throat felt like it was filling with something.

Blood.

"Arizona, how long until the ambulance and the fire department are coming? She's bleeding internally." Amelia stopped in her movements and looked you in the eyes. A thin line of blood already formed on your lip and it stained your teeth with it. "You are gonna be fine, little one okay? Just stay awake."

You nodded and began to cough, your lungs filling up more with the red liquid and constricting your breath. "I can't feel my legs."

You looked shockingly into the face of the brown-haired one. Meanwhile she had tears in her eyes that she tried to hold back, but failed. You were aware of what it could mean and that you might have been paraplegic from the impact, but you tried to hold on to any hope that you just didn't feel it because the blood supply was cut off by the entrapment.

Amelia took your hand tightly in her and gently stroked your hair. All she could do was be with you while you all waited for help.

You got colder, the goose bumps on your body and the inevitable tremors made you even more pain that you tried not to show. The endless screams and bitter tears from your girlfriend  snaked further into the distance, as in the beginning. She had her hand alternately on your cheek or neck as she wiped away some tears from you.

"I love you Arizona."

"No, take that back immediately! If you say it when something bad happens, you never hear it from that person again." she yelled at you.

But you knew how you felt. Weak, cold, barely breathing in a situation you probably couldn't get out of alive. You had to at least tell her one more time before you couldn't anymore. She had to know that you loved her to your very last breath.

"I love you Arizona."

She laid her head on her arm, which was propped up in the window pane, and buried herself while still caressing your pale skin.

"Amy," with one big, last breath you tried to keep it short, but saying the most important thing. "Best sister in the entire world. I love you too."

"No, you are not leaving us now. You are not leaving me, do you understand? You have so many years to spend here with me at your side. If you do this to me now, I will revive you and then kill you by myself!"

You laughed at her joke one last time before your eyes closed and you endowed into the distance with a smile.

[mypoisonedvine]

okay but here me out: you're a prostitute hired by laurie bc she found out that andy is cheating on her and needs proof for a divorce. when you see him, the payment is merely a bonus

wait i love this but i wanna modify it slighty: you’re a private investigator hired by laurie to seduce andy to prove he’s cheating!

this got so nasty so fast omg watch out for really dominating andy, with lots of dirty talk and a little bit of manipulation if you wanna read into it

“you don’t have to go through with it, obviously,” she explained, “you just need to get him to admit he’s done it before, and he’ll do it again.  on tape, with this.”

she set the audio recorder down in front of you, and you smiled sympathetically.

“don’t worry, ma’am, this isn’t my first time with a case like this.  I have my own equipment that’s less conspicuous and more reliable.  I could even catch him on film if you wanted.”

“you can do that?”

“yep, I have cameras that look like pens, buttons, rings, earrings, glasses...”

“well, video footage would be even better,” she explained, excited yet somber.  “I mean, it would make a better case in the divorce.  it would kill me to have to watch it, though...” she trailed off, scratching the back of her neck.

“is there any doubt in your mind he’s cheating on you?”

“only because I don’t want to believe it.  but it’s become to obvious to ignore,” she shook her head.

“I understand.  it’s hard to stomach that the people we care about most would hurt us like that.  but sadly it is all too common.  let’s just say that as a private investigator, this is a huge portion of what I do... and I get very steady work.  you’re not alone, laurie.”

“thank you,” she smiled weakly. “can you do it tonight?  I want this over with.”

“um, as long as it’s pretty late, I have other tasks this evening.”

“oh, late shouldn’t be a problem, he’s out until 4 or 5 in the morning these days.  this is the address of his work--” she set a piece of paper in front of you-- “just follow him to whatever bar he goes to from there and you shouldn’t have a problem.”

she’d shown you a photo, so you knew what to expect.  you had to come straight from your last assignment following somebody else around the city, so you weren’t dressed for the occasion at all.  to follow someone, you needed to dress plain and forgettable; to seduce someone, especially someone like andy barber, you needed to be extremely memorable.

you brought a change of clothes in your car, which you hastily slipped into in your back seat-- it required some acrobats to put tights on in the back of a small car like yours, but you managed to get through.

not just tights, but lingerie and garters.  sky high heels, a skintight dress that made you feel like your whole body was on display.  a motorcycle jacket and dark lipstick to give the whole look some edge.  basically, you’d tried to look as different from his wife as possible.  married men who were fucking around on the side always wanted something different, something fresh.  you knew how to do that.

plus, the jacket had the hidden camera attached to the lapel, nearly invisible among the snaps and buttons.

the echo of your heels on the concrete floor of the bar made every head turn.  it was quiet, and apparently a pretty slow night with only a few men scattered here and there-- the only other woman was the waitress.

andy was sitting at the bar, nursing a beer, and he gave you a quick glance before doing a double take.  you tried not to smile visibly. gotcha.

you sauntered up to the bar, leaning forward and making sure to arch your back just so, showing off your ass. “vodka cranberry?” you requested, smiling when the bartender nodded and started pouring grey goose into a glass.

you took a seat decently far away from andy, “adjusting” your jacket to turn the camera on.  you wanted to make sure you caught him coming up to you, starting the conversation, flirting first.  he looked over at you a few times but never said anything, making you start to get a little impatient, before finally the bartender arrived with a second drink.

“from the gentleman at the end of the bar,” he explained as he handed it to you.

“oh!” you smiled, “that’s so sweet!  you can tell him to come say hi if he wants.”

and it was just a few minutes before andy got up and leaned against the bar beside you, looking down at you with dark, half-lidded eyes.

“thanks for the drink,” you grinned coyly, letting your gaze drift a bit.  he was really good looking, honestly, and he looked all kinds of right in that suit, too.  if it weren’t a job, this might be the kind of guy you would actually flirt with of your own accord.  then again, you knew better than to go for a guy who had a tan line on his ring finger-- you hoped the camera was able to see that he’d taken his wedding band off.

“I’m here almost every night and I’ve never seen you before.”

“I’m from out of town,” you explained.

“business or pleasure?” he asked with a little smirk.

“I guess we’ll find out,” you winked.

it didn’t take much more flirting and a few more rounds of drinks for him to ask if you wanted to ‘get outta here,’ and with a giggle and a nod you let him guide you to his car with a hand on the small of your back. 

of course, you thought he was going to drive the both of you somewhere.  you didn’t expect him to push you up against it and kiss you roughly.

it was so sudden, and you knew you should stop him, but you somehow couldnt bring yourself to push him back, not when the way he was breathing heavily against you made your head spin, not when you could feel his beard and it was so hot for no good reason at all, not when his thick hands were grabbing you at your waist just tight enough to make you breathless.

“get in the back,” he instructed when he pulled back, making you blink up at him in shock.  you knew you had enough, you knew you should make an excuse and leave, get this footage uploaded from your mini cam and onto your laptop so you could get laurie what she needed...

but instead you found yourself biting your lip and nodding, letting him open the door for you and hopping in before he climbed on top of you, shutting and locking the door.

“we can go back to my place,” you offered as he started to suck on your neck, pulling you closer.  

“cant wait that long,” he mumbled quickly before helping you push your jacket off.

and you could tell that the way he tossed it onto the floor made the camera perfectly angled to see what he was doing to you.  maybe it was the perfect evidence for laurie’s case.  maybe it was about to tape you in your most intimate state with no way for you to stop it.

certainly there was no way you could stop when he manhandled you onto your hands and knees, pushing your dress up to find your black lace panties, and the garters holding up your tights.

“fuck, look at you... that’s why you came out tonight, then?  to get fucked?”

you nodded a little, gasping when he slapped your ass.

“little whore.”

you didn’t think you’d like being talked to like that, but it made your pussy throb beneath the lingerie that barely covered it.

just when you thought he was going to give it some attention, he flipped you around again and pulled you into his lap. 

“get on the floor, on your knees, and suck my cock.”

how was he so comfortable telling you what to do?  better yet, why were you doing it?

you slipped down, barely finding enough room with your massive heels in the way, and started to palm at his cock through his suit trousers, moaning absent-mindedly when you felt the thick, hard, hot length hidden beneath.   your mouth was already watering.

you started on his belt, looking up at him occasionally to find him watching you with a cold, unyielding stare.  when you reached inside his boxers and pulled it out, he smiled at your little gasp.

“bigger than you expected?” he taunted.  you were speechless, only able to nod in response before he put a hand on your hair-- not exactly forcing you forward, but definitely encouraging you to go ahead and put it in your mouth.

“fuuuck,” he groaned with you licked the head and finally closed your lips around it, suckling gently as your eyes fluttered shut.  “no no,” he correctly instantly, “look up at me with those pretty eyes, sweetheart.  take it deeper.”

you moaned around him but obeyed, using your hand to stroke the portion you couldn’t fit in your mouth (which was more than half).  you started to back away when you choked a little, but he pushed you back down and moaned a little louder, “I like it when you gag,” he explained gruffly, smiling when you looked up at him again, your eyes watering this time.  “god, you look so good like this.”

he pulled you off by your hair while you took in a gasping breath, gripping his cock at the base and slapping you lightly on the face with it a few times.  when you put your chin by his balls, the head hit you on the forehead... it made your gut burn as you tried to imagine how that would possibly fit in you without breaking something important.

when he pulled you back onto him, bucking up into your throat as you choked and gasped for air, you felt need tingling up your spine from seeing him like this.  he was completely in control and yet looked totally wrecked as he fucked your face.  it made you so wet you couldn't stand it.

just when you thought he might come, he stopped suddenly and lifted you up onto his lap, pulling your dress down to admire your completely impractical bra.

he grinned when he saw your nipples were already hard, reaching up to tweak them gently until your hips rocked on top of him of their own accord.

“you like having your tits played with, sweetheart?”

“I like when you do it,” you blurted out.

“sweet young thing like you, you’ve probably never even been with somebody who knows what they’re doing.”

it’s not like you hadn’t had some adept partners in the past, but none of them were like this. nobody had ever made you this desperate.

“please fuck me, andy,” you whimpered.

“not yet,” he growled, ripping your bra and tossing it aside.

“that was expens--” you started to protest, but it fell into a moan as he latched his lips onto an exposed nipple, sucking and licking eagerly.

“f-fuck!” you stammered, gripping his jacket tightly as you tried to stop yourself from humping his leg out of desperation

but he wanted you to-- he grabbed your hips and pulled you down, guiding you to rub yourself on his thigh.

“go ahead, pretty girl, show me how bad you want it.”

you were pretty confident that even through your panties, you were going to leave a stain on his trousers. 

you could even feel his cock on the inside of your thigh, hot and still slick with your spit, so hard you wondered why he wouldn't just put it in you already.

“please please please, need it so bad,” you whined, “I'm so wet for you, baby, I'm so fucking ready....”

“I know,” he whispered, pulling you closer to put his lips right beside your ear.  “I know, baby, I can feel it.  I can smell it.  you smell so fuckin sweet...”

you whimpered and your head fell back, pleasure shooting up through your body in jolts as you rubbed your swollen clit on his thick thigh.

“want me to fuck you?  I’ll fuck you, babydoll.  hard and rough just how you need it.”

“yes,” you sobbed.

“I’ll give it to you so good you won’t be able to walk straight tomorrow, won’t be able to sit right cause I tore that pretty little pussy up.”

you gasped but you wanted it, god you wanted it so fucking bad you couldn’t even remember that this was supposed to be a job, not a hook-up.  but you didn’t care.  

“please baby, I’ll do anything just fuck me, please--” you cried, cut off by him grabbing you and pushing you onto your knees again, slapping your ass one more time before pulling your panties aside.

“god, you’re soaked,” he chuckled condescendingly. “you’re so sensitive, honey.  I bet you’ll go crazy if I touch you here,” he proposed, rubbing his thumb over your clit and making you jolt forward from the intensity of it.  

he leaned down to wrap his body over yours, holding you close with one arm around your neck as he whispered in your ear, turning your face slightly with a hand on your jaw.

“look into the camera while I put it in you, baby...”

you weren’t sure if it was realizing you’d been caught, or the feeling of him pushing into you that made your eyes water, but a tear fell down your cheek as he buried himself into you with a groan.  it was just the right type of pain; with how wet you were, even a cock as massive as his slid into you easily.  but it felt like you’d never been stretched so wide and you didn’t even know what to do with yourself as he pulled back and slammed into you.

“I never told you my name,” he reminded you, “but you knew it anyways.  and with what I do for a living, I can smell a p.i. from a mile away.  you’re not as slick as you think, sweetheart-- well, proverbially slick... cause literally, this pussy is so fucking wet for me.” 

you could only gasp and sigh as he pumped into you faster and deeper, reaching parts of you that had never been touched before, let alone ravaged like this.  you could feel his smile against your ear as he started to fuck you faster, his free hand palming at your breasts before reaching back to hold your hips steady.

“god, you’re so fucking tight... anybody ever fucked you this good, honey?  anybody ever taken you like the needy little slut you are?”

he bit down on your ear and you realized he wanted an answer.

“n-no,” you replied, “never.  nobody’s ever fucked me like this, andy.”

“anybody ever fucked you on camera before?”

you swallowed dryly. “no.”

“was it all an act, then?  all part of the job?  I don’t buy it.  I think this is who you really are, a desperate little slut who needs to be stuffed full of cock by somebody who can give you everything you need.”

his filthy monologue fell on deaf ears as you tried with all your might to look away from the camera on your jacket, knowing that you had totally blown your case as well as presumably destroying your reputation.  fucking a married man is one thing, fucking a married man whose wife is your client who hired to prove he was cheating?  maybe you could spin it as doing your job a little too well?

“I can tell you’re close, sweetheart, go ahead and come for me.  I wanna feel this pretty pussy squeeze me, milk my fuckin cock when you come.”

mainly you were just trying not to get too loud, afraid that the car wouldn’t be enough to muffle your noises in case somebody walked through the mostly empty parking lot.

“andy!” you yelped when you reached your peak, not really meaning to but it came out anyways, he chuckled a little, the sound morphing into a growl as you clenched down around him with each wave of pleasure washing over you.

“fuck, don’t fuckin stop, this pussy feels so good I think I’m gonna come inside...”

you were too out of it to protest; you would’ve gone limp and fallen down onto your chest if he hadn’t held you up, his cock flexing against your overstimulated walls as he painted your insides with his come.

he grinned as he stilled his movements, catching his breath for a moment before sitting up and pulling out, slipping your panties back on to keep his come inside for a bit longer.

it was all a blur as he helped you half-redress before he all but shoved you out of the car, stuffing his cock back into his pants before getting into the driver’s seat and starting the engine.

“tell my wife I said ‘hi’,” he winked at you as he drove off, leaving you with wobbly legs balancing on your heels while his come leaking down your thighs.

[newtonsheffield]

You mention how Edwina is the sweet princess but I feel like Kate is also truly loved by the people, they just maybe take a while to warm up to her.

Can we see a snippet of Kate being the Queen of everyone’s hearts like we know she would be and Anthony hyping her up the entire time?

Just you know to compensate for the angst today?

You don’t have to, of course but it’d be nice to read is all 🤗

Oh, Kate is definitely loved by the people by the time her coronation comes round because of a few things that happen during a televised event in two chapters time.

Make no mistake, the Royal family of Genovia is very well loved amongst the public and honestly, while they had thought Kate's relationship with Anthony might be a PR disaster, it turned into pretty well the opposite, let's take a look.

(I'm trying real hard not to spoil anything but some things might slip through and I'm sorry )

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Sophie?" Anthony said nervously to the woman currently flitting around behind his chair, directing a lighting technician with startling efficiency.

"We've been over this, Anthony. Yes. All of my ideas are good, and if you question another of them, I'll tell your mother what really happened to steal you from your engagement party." Sophie looked pointedly at Anthony, whose cheeks flushed as he thought about how Kate had felt, moving against him in the water of the fountain.

"How do you-?"

"I know everything that happens in this palace Anthony." Sophie said dismissively, "Also, Kate told me."

He could see Kate smirking across the room as her make up team flitted around her, putting the final touches on her.

This had been the part of their relationship that was the hardest for him to adjust to. He hadn't thought he would have to. Had thought it would be easy, given he'd had a semi public life as a viscount, but he'd very quickly learned that being associated with the royal family proper was its own kind of pageantry. He had Kate hadn't been together a week before they'd been sat in a room, the Queen Regent's disapproving stare fixed firmly on him, as Sophie chatted with 15 PR experts all tutting and umming.

"Just how public do you want this to be?" Kate's mother had sighed her eyes barely leaving Anthony's hand clutched firmly in Kate's.

Kate had frowned, "I know you think this is a mistake, Mary, but I love him." Anthony's chest had ached, for the disapproval in Mary's voice, though he knew it had nothing at all to do with Kate and everything to do with him, and rightly so.

"I don't think anything, Kate. You're enjoying a not insignificant bump in public opinion given everything that happened at... your wedding, I'm just saying, the public might not take kindly to seeing you in a relationship with someone that tried to stage a coup."

Unfortunately the PR experts had agreed, even Sophie humming sadly, but Kate had insisted, she wasn't going to keep their relationship a secret and so, Lord Bridgerton had emerged as Princess Katharine's public companion two weeks later.

And to everyone's very great surprise, the new royal couple had been a hit. Magazines were filled with pictures of Kate, smiling down at his younger sister amidst all the other school children. Pictures of him kissing her cheek as they got back into the car, the two of them branded star crossed lovers. Two people who weren't supposed to fall in love, but couldn't help themselves, capturing the attention of the entire country. Requests for media appearances pouring in, Sophie's phone ringing off the hook. And it had only been worse when Kate had been spotted, three weeks ago now, coming out of his apartment, an engagement ring fixed firmly on her finger.

So here they were, about to give a televised interview discussing how they fell in love. And it should have been so easy. But it really didn't seem that way.

"You look very handsome. I might have to undo those buttons with my teeth later." Kate's voice growled in his ear as she settled on the sofa beside him, legs crossed primly as she tucked herself against his side, wrapping his arm over her shoulders, her left hand resting on his knee so the engagement ring was front and centre.

Anthony felt himself flush, "Don't make promises you can't keep, Your Majesty." he ground out, ignoring her little huff of breath against his neck.

"Who said I wasn't planning on keeping them?" Her fingernails gliding up his leg, heat rushing to his stomach.

"Can we dial this horniness back to about a 2?" Sophie sighed from her position, by the door, waiting for the journalist to enter.

"What do you think we're currently at?" Kate hummed directing her attention back to Sophie effortlessly as Anthony tried to redirect his thoughts elsewhere.

"As always, 25. We want young and in love not ready to rip each others clothes off and make a celebrity sex tape."

"You can't deny we'd definitely get a lot of viewers." The corner of her lips was tugging upwards in smirk.

Sophie rolled her eyes, "One of these days I'm going to- Sandra! Lovely to see you again!"

The journalist had entered the room, looking around curiously, greeting Sophie politely. Anthony knew Sandra Jacobsen had been very carefully chosen for this interview, the exact brand of questioning carefully plotted out by Sophie.

"Your Majesty." The woman dropped into a curtsy before Kate, who nodded politely.

"And you know Lord Bridgerton?" The woman curtsied again.

"Sandra, it's so lovely to see you again. How is your son enjoying university?" Kate slipped effortlessly into her public mode, kindly enquiring after people, and Anthony knew, while other dignitaries had this information fed to thm, Kate kept her own careful notes on everyone, ready to use at a moments notice, and people were powerless t resist her smile.

Sandra settled in the chair in front of them after several long moments, rattling off some introductions, sending Anthony's anxiety hurtling towards breaking point, Kate's fingers drumming on his knee keeping it from getting there.

"Now, the two of you sent the entire country into a spin a few months ago."

Kate laughed delightedly, "Yes, I suppose it was a little dramatic wasn't it?" She turned to Anthony, her eyes sparkling at him, sending his heart skipping.

"We're nothing if not dramatic." Anthony couldn't help but grin. It was easy to laugh about it now, all the tears shed months ago now disappearing in the wake of this beautiful thing that had blossomed between them.

"I think, I speak for the entire country when I say what a beautiful couple you make." Sandra was saying, but Anthony couldn't pull himself away from Kate's eyes, drowning in them a little, falling deeper and deeper every second nw that he'd let himself.

"Lord Bridgerton?" Sandra's voice caught his attention, as Kate's elbow caught him in the ribs. Sophie hissing behind him like an angry goose.

"Sorry, Sandra I got distracted. Could you repeat that?"

"I was just saying, the two of you met when you were invited to stay at the palace," The very public, very necessary lie always grated on him. But they could hardly have had him say The future queen let me take her home not even knowing my last night and fuck her in my shower. Could they? "What was the first thought that ran through your head when you saw her?"

Kate was smirking at him, her hand tight on his knee, he could almost see Sophie begging him not to say something stupid, an image flashing through his mind f Kate on a barstool laughing delightedly his breath leaving his body.

"Honestly Sandra? Oh No, She's really pretty."

The entire Genovian news cycle is taken up by clips of Anthony stammering through his words, unable to take his eyes off his fiancée, Oh no, She's really pretty played on a loop, made into memes and jokes on late night TV. All with the same sentiment It's what she deserves. And Anthony honestly, couldn't have agreed more.

[ohheyitsokay]

congrats you angel, you deserve all the love and praise for your writing bc holy shit you’re so talented!!! for the soulmate au celebration, i’m thinking either javi or jack (your choice bc i can’t choose) with the soulmate goose of enforcement au 💕 ik it’s a bizarre au but the potential for chaos is insane 😂 anyways ily and i hope you’re having a great day honey

...not me, having JUST reread your javi/jack fic, considering both... definitely me

Anyway, thank you, jj, you absolute gem of a human. I swear I had to turn up the fan reading this I got so flustered. I hope you have a great day too! And I hope you enjoy- I had to do a little research, and made it shorter than I wanted to, so hopefully it fills your chaos cup still!  (You'll understand, and hopefully forgive my delay when you see what's under the cut :) )

wordcount: 2.5k

warnings: strong language, lil angst with happy endings all around. mild menace meeting menace shenanigans 

Okay this is written as pt 1 Jav, pt 1 Jack, pt 2 Jav, pt 2 Jack, bonus pt 3. If you’re only in it for one of the boys, it makes reading a bit weird, but I liked the format for the whole thing. Sorry!

>>

Javier wanted to hit it with a bat. Or a car. Or anything. All that mattered is that maybe then it would leave him the fuck alone. Of all the stupid, infuriating, ridiculous guides the universe could have given him to find his other half, he was sure this was the worst. Rumor was, he couldn't even kill it if he tried.

It's not that he didn't want to find his soulmate, but he... well, he didn't want to find his soulmate.

There were all sorts of excuses to spout - work, obviously a priority, inconvenience, not wanting to give up his way of life. Not to mention following a damn goose was an impossible task, plus the fact that the stupid thing didn't even like him.

It would appear seemingly at random, honking insistently or flapping erratically, and then be gone before anyone else could bat an eye. To say that he had become increasingly irritated would have been a huge understatement.

The truth of it was that Javier was afraid. No one in the world liked to feel like they were being controlled. People liked to know what was going on, and this just didn't fit the bill. He didn't like that he didn't know you, couldn't be chosen, by you.

His life was already complicated enough - messy enough - that a soulmate would only make it worse. He had made it this long, this far without needing one, so he was fine without, thank you very much. Even to himself, his lie sounded okay.

It was hard to face, the idea that there was someone out there, a relationship that he couldn't have control over. And someone who would love him unconditionally? Terrifying.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t allowed to do nothing, because it seemed like every direction he turned there was a goose from hell wreaking havoc on his life.

They had reached an impasse - glowering at each other as it had planted itself in front of his door. Little feet pacing angrily, unreasonably long neck, all of it was just begging to be kicked. Except, for all he was a seasoned DEA agent, Javier was almost afraid the thing could go a few rounds with him. Feet shuffling uneasily, his hand twitched for his gun, even though he knew he couldn’t, wouldn’t shoot.

It was stupid to have a staring contest with a goose. And even more stupid that the goose won .

Javier turned away, spitting spanish curses in a stream that would make his mama smack him. Maybe it wasn't too late to find a hookup he could use to crash, he was thinking, and that thought was apparently the final straw. The goose reappeared in front of him.

Hissing.

More curses, a quick turn on his heel. This time, it didn't move in front of him, it left a sharp peck on his calf, before dodging his kick.

It was herding him, against his will, to you.

-

When he saw the goose, Jack thought he was delirious. The Statesman lab must've screwed something up because he'd seen that horrible, wonderful, stupid goose once before, in another life.

And he never, ever thought he'd see it again.

He did a lot of thinking, that night and the next day and the next. Strangely, he did a lot of feeling, too, noticing how light his shoulders felt, how kind the ache on his heart had become. He visited their grave, pressed his forehead to the headstone, and breathed some deep breaths.

And when he saw the goose again, he lassoed it.

It wouldn't have died even if it was powered up, but he didn't take the chance, determination and longing filling his being like blood, pumping through his heart to each and every part of him.

Miracle of miracles, it let him, with all the glare a bird could give. Knees only making small pops, Jack settled on his heels, looking at it sternly.

"Can you take me to them?"

The expression on it's tiny, smug face didn't change, but it also didn't disappear to free itself, so he waited.

And he waited. And waited. And eventually, watching it with half an eye, he grabbed a doughnut and offered it to the stupid soulmate goose god.

It considered the doughnut, pecked it as Jack yanked his fingers out of reach, and apparently accepted. After it was finished, it began to tug him along, waddling on its makeshift leash as Jack's heart leapt into his throat. He grabbed the bag of doughnuts and his hat before getting dragged along, to you.

-

At his very core, Javier was a man driven by his personal sense of justice. Being herded by an immortal goose of mischief was unfair, it made no sense that he had to find you, somehow needed more, and wasn't allowed to choose. It pecked and honked and bullied him all the way to a crowded bar, which was a perfect example. 

Just as he was thinking, trying to convince himself he would've come here on his own, it disappeared again and he sighed.

He needed a drink. And, he needed to make some of his own goddamn decisions. Defiance and determination, he told himself. Not stubbornness. There was nothing to prove, it was just defiance and determination, to take his fate into his own hands and make his own choices. And if he was going to do that, he wanted to look for someone who wasn't an informant or a one night stand. His gut was looking for someone he could pull to his side and to show the universe that the goose was right to give up on him.

You were a perfect fit. Slightly disgruntled for whatever reason, even through the crowd he could see the faint, telltale wrinkles of someone just as... determined as he was. Shoulders held the same defiance he was so proud of, and he would be lying if he wasn't physically drawn to you as well. The inconsistent lighting could make anyone look good if you wanted it enough, but you... were something else.

There was a line of pink neon reflection from the top of your ear, across your cheekbone, and just grazing the line of your upper lip as you looked thoughtfully at something he couldn't see. Javier thought he wouldn't mind tracing that path with his fingers, and then maybe his own mouth, and his feet were already carrying him to you to look for an open door. The rest of your form came into view, and Javier noticed the bass of the music was turned up a little bit more than necessary- he could feel it thumping in his bones.

Talking to you went smoother than maybe it ever had before. You seemed resigned, at first, which was a reaction that caught him off guard, and that combined with the weariness of his week, making him unusually candid. In turn, you opened up to him like a flower turning towards the sun, fun and thoughtful and refreshing. 

He liked the way you laughed when his lines came out a little awkwardly - open and appreciative, and it made his chest puff out a little. He liked the way you spoke, too. There was kindness and romance in your soul, just whispering at the edges of the words, and while he didn’t pick up on that, per se, they made him feel special, handsome, worthy, but also trusted and comfortable and safe. Neither of you noticed at first, that you had shuffled into a quiet corner of the bar, that his body had moved close, a gentle shield boxing the two of you into your own little world.

When the question came - what brought you here, anyway? - he found himself answering honestly about half being led by his guide, then wanting to make his own path. His confidence faltered at your quiet laugh. His heart ached. A glance at the clock told him it had been two hours since he'd found you, and already he wanted to... choose you. To have you choose him.

He felt stupid that he had confessed so soon, but...

Oh, you were kissing him. There were hands shooting off sparks into his soul against his chest and his jaw and you were kissing him. Javier kissed you back.

When you pulled away, his mouth chased yours, not ready to give up the contact so soon, but you stopped him, laughing again.

"I have a confession," you whispered, and he paused.

“My guide led me here, too. I thought when it gave up on me when I saw you,” your next kiss was more chaste, “I think we got tricked.” Noticing he liked the feel of you in his arms, even if he didn’t remember pulling you there, he tightened his hold.

Javier felt light, understanding your laughter, and blissfully unafraid. “No,” he said, knowing already you’d understand him. 

“I chose you.” 

- 

Jack was running out of doughnuts. It was easier, safer to have the dumb bird half hog-tied, but he still didn’t feel any closer to you, just halfway across town. He dug in his boots and sunk onto a bench, yanking the goose to a stop, too annoyed to beg for a break. 

He wasn’t giving up and running away, absolutely not, he was just... running out of options. Or, doughnuts. And breath. If this pace kept up, he wouldn’t be able to tell you all the things he had planned out in his head. 

Eyelids closing against the southern sun, he let out a long, slow sigh. His heart was still racing, and he wondered if he was really as ready as he wanted to be, to meet his next soulmate. A sturdier inhale grounded him. He was ready, he knew he was. Whoever you were, you had to have the patience of a saint - it would be alright, he just needed a breath. The ground under his boots was sturdy, the breeze over his skin cooling, and the goose was mercifully quiet. 

“That’s one strange lookin dog you have there, cowboy,” The voice was teasing, but not malicious, and he grinned, eyes still closed. 

“She’s a purebred,” he replied, and he heard a huff of laughter like the first few notes of music. Waiting for your footsteps to carry you away, he savored the moment, feeling silly as he hoped his soulmate would like to laugh as much as he did. 

There was a weight on the other side of the bench, and he wondered at it, as you said, “Want to talk about it?” His smile was softer, this time, intrigued by the moment, but not wanting to be tempted into flirting, not when his soulmate was on the horizon. 

“Nothin to tell,” he replied, feeling suddenly strange. Jack opened his eyes, looking at the rope in his hands, feeling the fibers run through his fingers. “Just a free range chicken... taking a break from tryin to chase down my second soulmate.” He winced, definitely not wanting to look at you, after the second had slipped out. 

It wasn’t judging, though, the voice that said, “You seem like you want to talk about it.”

For once in his life, Jack didn’t know what to say, slipping off his hat to run his fingers through his hair before replacing it. He heard your half-laugh again, and it felt refreshing, like sweet tea on a southern summer day. 

“Okay,” you said, and he heard amusement this time, like you had something to say, some thought you were chewing on. 

Then, there was that terrible honk of the goose, not from his feet, but from where, assumedly, you were. Snapping his gaze to the other side of his bench, he saw a sight for sore eyes, half backlit, glowing like something he never thought he’d see.

There was an indignant goose in a cage at your ankles, now making grumbling bird noises in indignant conversation with the one at the end of his lasso. 

“I thought you were never gonna look at me,” Your arm was across the back of the bench as you grinned at dynamite smile at him. 

Jack returned it, feeling bashful and eager, dropping the rope to grab your closest hand. 

“I promise I aint making that mistake again, sugar.”

-

bonus ending:

Jack was clinging to your hand, grinning like a fool as you introduced yourselves, when another movement caught his eye. There was a man, walking up behind you, a resigned look on his face. Whiskey’s hackles should have been all the way up, yanking you into his arms at the way this man was approaching you, but instead he was dumbfounded for the second time that day. 

He was backlit, too, with shoulders that carried as much weight as the man in his mirror every morning, and he could see the shape of a gun as he knelt next to his soulmate. The stranger’s eyes when they looked at you... were as adoring as he was sure his must have been, a moment before, and he was familiar with you, like you’d known each other before now. Jack wanted to swallow, but his heart felt like it was in his throat, beating like he’d gone a round with a bull at the rodeo.

“This is probably a lot,” Javier said, taking you other hand and quirking an eyebrow. The geese made some loud, obnoxious noises and he looked at them appreciatively. “I wish I had thought of that,” he gestured at the lasso, and you smiled at him. 

“This is Javier,” you said, and you let go of them both to stand up and brush yourself off. Warm hands and strong grips were exchanged, and you watched them curiously as they shook, murmuring names and titles again. They were sizing each other up, certainly, but you felt a rush of relief as you saw a familiar spark of attraction in Javi’s eyes. 

“You got any more surprises for us, then?” you looked up at the cowboy, confused, only to realize he wasn’t talking to you. The goose in your cage was free halfway down the walk, the one in the lasso hissed. The poor man had been an RV in an earthquake and come out the other side overwhelmed and happy, of all things, but there wasn’t much more he could handle. To your surprise, he grabbed a crumbled paper bag and tossed the contents to the bird, before it gave a final honk, and waddled after it’s friend. 

“I guess that’s a no,” you said, suddenly shy at the fullness in your heart. 

“That’s alright,” Jack picked up his lasso, before looking at you and Javier, his eyes happy, and glinting with something stronger. “I think this is more than enough.”

And you agreed.

<<

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179

for whiskey:

@0celestialbitch0

[wouldpollyapprove]

Headcanon: Going Into Labor At A Party

Request: None, you guys just really liked these so I have decided to do one for each of the Shelby boys.

Requested by no one

John Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language, alcohol, pregnancy

A/N: This is the last of the “Going Into Labor” headcanons for the Shelby Clan unless you guys want me to do them for Ada & Polly and/or other Peaky Blinder characters. Just let me know and I’ll do them b/c I love these so much. I don’t know how well this is b/c I haven’t read through it, so sorry if it’s rough.

Part One (Arthur) / Part Two (Finn) / Part Three (John) / Part Four (Michael) / Part Five (Thomas)

Masterlist

The Shelby’s had been invited to a large gathering by the Lee’s, more like a party where everyone would end up blackout drunk, due to the fact that you were distantly related to them. As a relative, they couldn’t just not invite you and they wanted to keep Tommy happy.

So, with John’s arm link with your’s, you slowly walked behind his family to where you could see your’s and most of them appeared to have opened a bottle of whiskey. 

“God, your brother’s are shit faced,” your husband chuckled, pointing at your brother who was chasing after a goose. It was all fun and games until the goose turned around and started chasing after him.

You laughed, watching the goose hiss at your brother. “You think he’d slow down with the liquor, but no.”

John hummed and gazed out at the open field around you. “How are you feeling, love?” he asked to fill the silence.

“I’m the same as I was when you asked earlier,” your rolled your eyes. “Now, quite fussing. We’re here to have fun and you can’t have fun if you’re worrying about me.” You leaned your head on his shoulder.

Your swollen belly gave him every reason to worry. John knew drunks, having spent a lot of time around them, and knew they could be dangerous even if they didn’t mean to be.

Once among your family, John and you were quickly greeted ad given glasses full of who knows what. John had no problem accepting what was shoved in his hand, but you did.

Since becoming pregnant, many things made your nose scrunch up in disgust. Lamb made you want to vomit, meaning your husband would have to go a while without some of his favorite dishes. Alcohol, it didn’t even matter what it was, was disgusting to even think about. That made trips to the garrison or even the betting shop impossible sometimes. 

How you had decided coming to this party was beyond you. It would be impossible to find a place the alcohol couldn’t reach your nose, so you just hoped that you could hold down your dinner.

The sun had set as John pulled you on to the dance floor. It was a slow enough song that he knew you could manage to keep the pace. “You look beautiful in this light,” he smiled at you, brushing a loose hair out of your face. Though, the two of you had been together for a long while, he always made you blush.

“You know, once the baby’s born, there’ll be another party like this,” you commented, allowing John to spin you around. 

“What’s with your family and parties?”

You shrugged, looking over your husband’s shoulder to see one of your uncles light a wagon wheel on fire. It was better than someone’s hair, which had been the last thing he’d caught on fire. “I don’t know, but they’re fun.”

The two of you made your way out of the swarm of dancers when your feet began to hurt. It was a light complaint, but John insisted you take a seat and rest your feet for a bit. But before you could make it far, your water broke, soaking the dirt beneath you.

You weren’t sure who raced to your side fast, Polly or your aunt May. Despite John’s protests, they quickly took you from his arms and led you to one of the wagons. Even with a car, they were too far from the city to get you home in time. 

Once you were out of sight, Arthur came over and clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Ya’re gonna be dad.”

A massive grin broke out across John’s face. “I’m gonna be a fucking father!” he shouted. 

You could hear him from where you were, the women around you trying to get you comfortable. You wanted to smile at his antics, it was the same reaction he’d had when you found out you were expecting, but a contraction washed over you and all you could do was grasp on to Polly for support. 

John was all smiles as he made sure everyone knew that he was going to be a dad. Tommy tried to get some whiskey in his system to help calm him down, but it was nothing compared to the excitement racing through his blood. 

After an hour and a half of contractions, swearing, and pain, you held a little boy, a tuff of hair a top his head that certainly had to have come from his father. Polly sat beside you, refusing to leave you, with a baby girl in her arms, wrapped in the woman’s shawl. “Would you like me to go fetch John before he falls in the fire?”

You let out a weak laugh, gazing down at the child your created. “If he hasn’t already.”

Polly nodded, following the other women, who had helped you deliver, out of the wagon. She held the baby close to her chest as she walked up to Tommy, who had forced John to take a seat before he hurt himself. 

“John,” Tommy hit his brother’s knee then pointed at Polly behind him. John turned, eyes lighting up when he saw the small bundle in her arms. 

Standing, he walked over to his aunt. “Fucking hell.” He moved the material away from the infants face. 

His aunt scolded him for such language before passing the child over to him. “She’s a spitting image of her mother.”

John sucked in a breath, a little girl. He had a little girl. “She sure is,” he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. 

“Your wife’s holding a baby boy that looks just like you,” Polly told him, pointing to the wagon, before warning him that she would kill him if he dropped the baby.

He could barely process her words as he made his way to the wagon. There was no way there was another baby, she had to pulling his leg, that’s the only thing that made since. But once he opened the door to the wagon, tears of joy pooled in his eyes at the sight of his wife soothing the small child in her arms. 

You smiled when you heard him enter. “John, look at our babies.”

He came to sit next to you, you instantly leaning against him. “Your fucking amazing, love.” He kissed the top of your head. 

“I think we should name her Elizabeth,” you suggested, giving your pinky over to your daughter.

Your husband raised a brow. “After Polly?” You nodded, there was no way you couldn’t. She had done so much for the two of you. So much for her family and it seemed that she often didn’t get the credit she deserved. “What about for him?” John asked, leaning over to get a proper look at his son. Though, his eyes were closed and he was fast a sleep, John knew he would be a wild child, just like the rest of the Shelby men.

“Joseph,” you said, remembering when John had told you he had always liked the name. 

“Elizabeth and Joseph.” John used his free hand to turn your face and capture your lips in a kiss. “Would ya look at our family?”

*~~*~~*~~*

Let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list.

@amirahiddleston @haphazardhufflepuff @woahitslucyylu @mzcrazy2 @lovemissyhoneybee @multi-fandom-iimagines @tarafaithe @jenepleurepasbaby @fernweh-fangirl @the-anxious-youth @theshelbyclan @wtfdanness @chloeforde @futuristicslimemongerbanana @lucillethings

[vinylhazza]

“that was embarrassing” and “it’s not funny”

I'm not sure if this was on the smut prompt list but this was so cute so I'm posting anyway. hope you like it! 

it was the last and final time you would ever go rollerskating with Grayson for as long as you lived.

not only had you made an ass out of yourself in front of all of his friends with jokes you were certain they would understand but most certainly didn’t, but you had just fallen so hard onto the slick wooden rink that you currently sat on a hard, cold bench watching the others twirling and spinning around to the music with a makeshift ice-pack pressed against your forehead (if you can call the cold cup that holds your Pepsi an ice-pack). something was better than nothing.

it was the hardest fall you’ve had since you could remember, the stars swirling behind your eyelids with every blink making it more than clear to you that you might even have a concussion. all you wanted was sleep. sleep and silence.

Grayson hadn’t been able to swing himself around fast enough to break your fall let alone stop the laughter ringing in your ears as soon as your knees bowed, the sound of you body hitting the ground fresh in your mind still. a harsh pang to your forehead was the one thing that still made you cringe from your place off the rink. it was mortifying to watch a girl no older than seven laughing at you as she wizzed by with ease, some ridiculous 2000′s pop song blaring over the speakers.

“it wasn’t that bad” Grayson had tried consoling you over and over in your ear as you made your way back to the side of the rink- trying your best to ignore the hoots and howls of his friends. he flipped them to bird with a scowl, but it didn't seem to make much difference as Collin raced by with a sly “nice one Peterson!”

“that was embarrassing,” you’d grumbled. you tried to ignore the sympathetic look he’d given you, only confirming that it was in fact” embarrassing.

warning off the tears moistening your eyes without your consent was harder than you’d thought. but falling in front of children and friends, and then crying about it was just not something you wanted to be a part of.

that had been thirty minutes ago. thirty minutes of miserable spinning and nausea. of course it was probably your own fault for pushing yourself out of you small box and trying something different for once. an ode to your clumsiness. you hated physical activity- no matter what aid the wheels could have given you and even if you had been holding Graysons hand for most of the night.

that part hadn’t been as challenging: clinging onto your boyfriends arm and laughing at your legs sliding across the floor similar to that of a baby deer with skates. there really wasn’t any difference, but he made your blush form from one of embarrassment, to flattery with every minute that passed.

all was well until he left you to fend for yourself, something that you were still trying to keep to yourself. yes you were hurt, but no you didn't need to take it out on him out of anger.

Grayson sat beside you still, an arm wrapped across your chest while you both leaned back against the white cinderblock wall behind you both. glancing up at the wooden shoe cubby made your stomach roll, prompting a bemused chuckle from the now yawning man holding you loosely against him.

“it’s not funny,” you grumble, shooting him a glare that wasted far too much energy, shuffling down to get closer to his warmth that always provided the most comfort when you weren’t feeling so good.

he merely looked down quickly with a shake of his head, lips pressed together to hide the grin, “of course it’s not. I was just laughing at Max still trying to seduce Trina. he just doesn't learn.”

nice save.

you looked out onto the rink lit up with flashing lights of every color, wondering what time it had to be and if the smaller than average establishment would be closing soon. you spot a wobbly looking Max across the way, trying (and slightly failing) to skate backwards next to Trina who now wore an annoyed scowl. if you were in better shape and a much better mood, you would say to hell with sitting on the bench hurt and save your mutual friend from the annoyance of the boy that just couldn’t take the hint. you would have thought after two years of failed attempts he would give it up and move on.

with a side eye at Grayson you know he must be thinking the same, but chose not to say anything further. that was a talk for another time. you make a mental note to have Grayson talk to max soon about his constant pestering to the poor girl that wanted nothing more than to “live her free life freely” as she had said so many times. you’re sure it’s just her nice way of saying no, but knew she was truly a free spirit and being tied down by someone as high maintenance as max wouldn't be the best idea.

but tonight, all your mind could think to long for was home. your big fuzzy blanket, Graysons flannel pj pants you’d claimed as your own, the oversized Harvard sweater your sister got for you as a gag gift for Christmas two years ago after getting your denial letter in the mail, Graysons hands rubbing the stress knots out of your shoulders, and a hot bath. you presumed you deserved a resting night after throwing yourself so far out of the box and then getting hurt from it.

the best thing about Grayson? he read you like a book.

“you ready to head out? I'll tell the boys I'll text them later, or do you want to try again?”

“I think trying again might not be the best idea,” you croak, removing the cup and revealing the goose egg bump on your forehead. you want to smack him when he cringes, but instead give him a small smile.

“yeah, killer, I think you’ve had enough,” he grins, leaning forward to press his lips on yours once, twice, then three times before he finally gets up to say his farewells to his friends, stretching as he does so.

you watch silently while he made his way around to everyone he could find, stopping next to Max to whisper something in his ear. when he pulled back, max looked ashamed, something that shouldn’t have given you as much pleasure as it did. serves him right for not listening.

-

“I'm proud of you for trying something new,” he mumbles once the both of you climb into his car, your water-down Pepsi long gone, the heat blasting to warm up your chilled fingertips.

you want to ignore him, not being one for praise or pity, but also thankful that he noticed your attempt at trying to have fun in more ways than just burying your head in a book. you know it made him happy to see you trying for him, and for that you would give him a real smile. one of content instead of anguish.

“I'm proud of you for finally having some fun,” you rebuttal, giving him the best ‘I'm okay’ smile that you could through the throbbing in your temples.  

his widened eyes and mock horror expression had you laughing harder than your headache agreed to, and you choke on that same laughter only a moment later.

“what exactly are you implying daisy?” he grumbled, turning the wheel to the right and backing out of the parking spot he squeezed himself into.

daisy. the best nickname anyone had ever given you.

“that you needed a break.”

“breaks are for the weak.”

“I think you mean smart gray,” you grab his hand without thinking, raising it to your lips with a soft glance over at the streetlight bouncing across the hazel of his irises, “you needed some friend time. Even if i ruined it with my stupid legs that don’t work and equally stupid jokes.”

“and you know what I think?”

“something dumb probably-” you fire before thinking, a joke of course. the pout he wore after was too hard to resist, your thumb finds his bottom lip without thinking to smooth them back with a fond smile.

“funny,” he smirked, “but I was going to say that you’re brave. You were very brave in letting people see you as you are and as you’ll always be, even if some of them didn’t get your jokes or loved you as much as i do.”

He said it softly, in a way that softened you to your core and sent a chill straight down your spine despite the hot air blasting from the vents. You fought the urge to curl in on yourself at the compliment, still not used to hearing such kind words even after all the time that you’ve been dating grayson who does nothing but compliment you and give you words of endearment. It was different, and sometimes scary.

“Hm i think you need some sleep,” is all you can bring yourself to say without sounding like a sappy hallmark card. You wanted to say more, something better than a witty remark - but could only allow yourself a small dose of something you’re not entirely sure how to handle. But you did know that you loved the way he looked over at you, noticing the high pitch of your voice and the way your hand seemed to squeeze his tighter. With a sigh of defeat he averts his eyes back to the orange tinted asphalt ahead, shaking his head with that same sheepish smile.  

“I’ve never been more awake.”

The silence that followed was serene. Something you both understood to be easy. You’ve never had easy.

For a moment you weren't the embarrassing girlfriend of a man much too kind for you.

For a moment you believed that something good might happen to people like you.

For a moment all the world was a warm car in winter, black ice car freshener, a frank sinatra song turned all the way down on three, and a thumb rubbing a pattern across your knuckles.

For a moment the world was good and it didn’t matter that the headache was full force, the streetlights too bright to your sensitive eyes, the car seeming to move in slow motion while the city whirred past your window.

For a moment all there was was eyes full of something other than amusement, something deeper, richer than you’d ever seen before.

For a moment you allowed your heart to thump out of rhythm in your chest, your head to fall against the headrest, your eyes to shut, and the rubbing of his thumb to lull you to sleep.

[gloriafc]

Paul imprinting on Emily's best friend-Part 3

Paul imprinting on Emily’s best friend -Part 3? @laurastrutz

The only words that could repeat through Paul's head were, "She suffered a great number of internal damages. She will need to be put under a medically induced coma. When she wakes up she may have a slight case of amnesia from hitting her head on the road." Everyday he heard them echoing around in his head for weeks as he stared at your sleeping figure, no one could get him to move from his seat, except Emily, who promised she'd stay at your side until he got back from his nap and shower. He could only stare at the many tubes and wires connected to you, counting how many times your chest would rise in an hour.

Kim and Emily were both fine, the other driver crashed into the front drivers side of your car. Jared and Sam are both grateful you got them out okay, but they also won't let their imprints out of their sights. The two wolves made sure their friend was okay, but they knew he was basically dead inside, his life laying unconscious in the bed surrounded by balloons and flowers your best friend brought so you'd see something other than the dull walls when you woke up.

The other driver was okay. He did have to go into surgery, but when he was out, he alongside his family tried to say thank you. Of course that just pissed off Paul, if the other driver saw the stop sign, you wouldn't be in the hospital, all of the imprints would be safe and fine telling them about the movie they saw and the random things they bought that are now ruined or was barely salvageable.

When she woke up and found out what your condition was, Emily immediately called your dad, who sped his way to the hospital from Seattle. It wasn't the way he planned on meeting your boyfriend, but he could see just how much Paul cared about you, and that's all he could ask for his daughter especially at a time like this.

The two men quietly sat at your bedside everyday. Occasionally they'd talk, getting to know each other, telling stories of the random things you'd do.

When the doctors decided to take you off of the medication they informed your dad and Paul you wouldn't wake up right away, that your body would come to when you were ready. They sat for three days, taking showers in the hospital bathroom, taking turns to go get coffee. Emily would come everyday to make sure they ate. They'd constantly look at how different you looked without all the tubes on your face, and the wires connected to your body now gone, you looked somewhat normal. The only thing missing was the smile that was constantly on your face.

On the fourth day, they were both sat by the window, one of the rare sunny days in Forks that they knew you loved. They opened the curtains and windows and sat there staring outside. They were both so lost in thought they didnt hear you start to wake up until they heard a raspy voice say, "You both look like shit."

Their heads both snapped to your bed where you were laying wide awake and a soft smile on your face.

After the doctors checked and made sure you were okay and were checking to make sure your stats were normal. Paul's hand never left you. He was either holding your hand or drawing shapes on your arm or leg. Your dad was the one who called Emily. As you waited for her you turned to your dad, "Where's mom at?" He stops talking to the doctor to look at you, "Baby. Your mom died remember?" You look at him for a second before shaking your head, "Right. Yeah. I know." Before you can say anything the doctor quickly reassures you, "Dont worry. That's normal after an accident like yours. It's very common for cases like this. For little bits to be missing, it'll just take a few moments for your brain to correct itself. It should only happen for the next couple of hours."

About ten minutes later Emily runs into the room like a track star and practically jumps on top of you. You dad can only shake his head, "Dont break her already." Emily just shrugs with her arms wrapped around your shoulders, "Shes already in a hospital."

The next person to enter is Kim followed by Jared. You watch as she stops in the doorway before running and joining you and Emily on the small hospital bed.

Your dad leaves telling you he's going to get some actually sleep at your house, now that you're awake, leaving you with your two friends and three wolves. Despite just waking up, you were exhausted and quickly fell asleep after Emily put on a movie. Soon Kim and Emily followed, the three of you sharing one blanket and squished on one bed. The boys can only shake their heads realizing why you're all so quiet. "At least shes finally awake." Sam just chuckles, "At least they're all in one place. Just wait till Y/N gets discharged."

The doctors started you on physical therapy the next day, to get your body back into the activity it was used to before you could get discharged. You struggled but you pushed against it until you could walk on your own, even if you needed something or someone to help keep you on your feet. You didn't let anyone join you except the trainer and the doctors, not wanting Paul or Emily to stop you from pushing yourself.

When you get discharged you find yourself bouncing back quite fast, you still need help getting around but it's more like you just need someone to make sure you dont fall.

You called your sergeant to help you bounce back and he agreed knowing you need someone to push you but know the limits, and not Paul who'll hold back when he thinks you've had enough. You asked your dad to go on morning jogs with you, not knowing the wolves follow you in the tree line hidden by the shadows and bushes.

When you got cleared by the doctors your dad went back to Seattle and you were free to do what you normally did everyday.

Of course that didnt stop the boys from doing stuff for you, even if it was simple stuff, "I'm gonna get some water." "I got it." "What happened to you practically live here get it yourself?" "Don't worry about it."

You realized about a week after getting cleared for regular activity that three certain wolves tried to keep you, Kim, and Emily together constantly or you always had a wolf with you. You watched everyone before sneaking out in the middle of the night while Paul was asleep. You easily avoided any wolf on patrol and made your way to the beach. You stayed there all night with a small fire and blanket, thankful it was a warmer night.

When the sun started coming up you laughed as you heard howls coming from the woods and started a timer to see just how long it'd take for your boyfriend or one of the other wolves to find you.

As the sun slowly starts to rise higher into the sky you all hear a shout coming from the tree line, "Hey! What the fuck?!" You turn seeing a barely woken up Embry and Jacob. And with a shit eating grin you wave, "Hello friends."

You watch as they trudge their way through the sand before plopping down next to you, Jacob looking at you, "If I knew you getting discharged meant a wild goose chase before the sun was fully up, your ass would still be in a hospital bed." "How about I bring potato salad to dinner?" "What was I mad at you for?" With a smile you shake your head and stare out at the water, soon the boys leave to go find your boyfriend and tell him where you are.

Not even fifteen minutes later Paul is walking through the sand to get to you. Even though he's slightly mad at you he can't deny how beautiful you look with the breeze going through your hair as the early morning sun shines on your face. "How long have you been out here?" With a shrug you reply, "Since you fell asleep."

Paul cant say or do anything except step forward until you're in his arms, both of you staring at the water. You lose track of how many times the water reaches your feet, your mind focused on one thing in this perfect moment.

"Marry me." Paul looks at you thinking he misheard you, "What?" You turn to face him, staying in his arms, "One day, it doesn't have to be anytime soon. I want to take your last name. I want to marry you."

You continue speaking before he can say anything. "I almost died and your face was the last thing I saw. I was in that hospital bed in a coma and your voice was the only thing I heard loud and clear. I cant remember anything you said, I just remember your voice. I-" You dont get to finish your sentence before Paul's lips are smashed onto yours in a kiss so powerful and full of emotion your knees go week. You'd be on the ground if it weren't for the cold water touching your feet and the two strong arms wrapped around your midsection, holding you up.

The two of you stay on the beach for a little while longer, sitting in the sand, in each others peace and happiness. Paul never thought he'd be so happy, better yet to be the one to get proposed to. But he also knows he'd do anything for the person sitting between his legs with her back against his chest, even if it means he has to go on a wild goose chase before breakfast.

The silence gets ruined when you both hear another set of howls, breakfast call. Paul looks down when he feels you look up at him, "How long do you think we can go before anyone suspects anything?" Your fiance can only shake his head with a smile on his lips, before playing along, "As long as you dont get hurt again, I'd say we could play that game for a pretty long time." "Wanna bet on it."

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 12

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 12 - Roommate

Death is the loneliest thing. A deadly but lonely ghost, after hundreds of years of silence, waiting for someone to finally sense its presence.

How tragic yet oddly optimistic.

"It's ridiculous to accompany a ghost into death. Is there anyway to make him leave willingly?"

A-Yan laughed suddenly. He didn't know why that the indescribable smile was so strange that is made people's hair stand on end. He whispered, "What if I told you 'no'?"

Lin Yan was stunned. If he wouldn't leave, what would his life be like? He was being watched at all times, when he was sleeping, eating, going to class, driving, going to the bathroom, and even masturbating under a pair of watchful eyes. He checked the calendar every day, counting down the days until his death. He was scared he was going to go crazy in a few days. Lin Yan put the carved cat back on the table and silently sifted through his thoughts. If he had to, he might still go to that small temple.

How was he supposed to satisfy this ghost's wishes?

"I don't think ghosts are much different from people, but survival is human instinct. Everyone wants to live, right?" Lin Yan said helplessly.

"I understand." A-Yan replied softly.

"This wish is keeping the ghost from being reborn. Ghosts with unresolved wishes are unable to enter the cycle of reincarnation. Over time, the spirits become ghosts and nothing can be done about their wish. In fact, this ghost was just a poor man before his death. If they fulfill their wish during their lifetime, nothing will happen. If you can fulfill his wish, his hostility will naturally dissipate and he will reincarnate."

"The ghost's wish?"

A-Yan smiled weakly: "Yes. Some want revenge, some want retribution, some can't let go of their wives and children, everyone has a reason not to leave the world. I have seen so many ghosts, but this one following you has the deepest obsession I've ever seen."

As he spoke, a chilly breath came up, snaking up Lin Yan's ankle. His whole body felt like he had been submerged in icy water. Lin Yan shuddered. He didn't expect the ghost to appear during the day, although there wasn't much difference between day and night in this basement. Sitting opposite of him, A-Yan's face changed. He stared at something behind Lin Yan and drank in the monster standing there. He wanted to reach the peach wood sword on the cabinet. However, he was unfortunately a step too slower. The coldness turned into invisible brute force in an instant. It grabbed Lin Yan's wrist and dragged him up from the sofa. He staggered forward then he was dragged so hard by the ghost he almost didn't touch the ground. He was pulled through the living room and dragged harshly to the right into a back room. With a bang, the door slammed behind him, and the metal sound of the door locking rang through the darkness. Yin Zhou and A-Yan rushed after them and banged against the door desperately outside. Lin Yan reached for the lock with trembling hands, but there were no windows in the basement, and the room was completely dark when the door was closed. For a while, he couldn't find the door handle.

Unhappy with Lin Yan's resistance, the strange force grabbed his ankle and yanked him back. Lin Yan couldn't stay upright, and fell flat on his chin. He was dragged into the middle of the room by the hand firmly holding the ankle. His face was rubbed against the rough concrete floor, hot and painful.

"You're fucking crazy! This is someone else's house!" Lin Yan kicked his legs hard to get rid of the force entangled around his ankle. In a flash, a cold body was pressed up against his, and his long hair bushed against Lin Yan's neck. His lips fell across his face, his tongue licked back and forth on the wound on his chin, and finally he kissed his lips. It wasn't not so much a kiss as it was a bite, full of irritable emotions and strong desire to claim his territory. He ravaged his mouth; it was totally different from the obedient being that was in his car last night. His cry for help was blocked. Lin Yan could only shake his head and moan, his sensitive jaw stimulated by his touch. He wanted to curl up into a ball, but the ghost had him restrained from his thigh to his upper arm. Lin Yan turned his head in the direction of the door in despair. In the dark, he felt that he was no stronger than a leaf, forced to lie in a fire, crackling and roasting away, not being able to do anything.

Bang bang bang!

"Open the door! Lin Yan, are you okay!"

"Hah. . ." He didn't even have the strength to call out for help. His face was pulled back and the ghost continued to kiss him deeply and even intensified. It sucked on a small bit of his tongue and bit down. Lin Yan whimpered in pain, the smell of rust filling his mouth. The ghost sucked deeper as if he had been encouraged by something. It forced him to respond violently, like he was being hunted and chased all at once. All that echoed in his ears was the magnified ambiguous sound of water in the dark.

Bang bang! Bang bang!

"Say something!"

"Brother Lin Yan!"

During the stalemate, Lin Yan had cold sweat dripping off his forehead. He used his to knee to push against the ghost but it remained unmoved. After kissing Lin Yan all over, he turned his target to kiss against his earlobe. The wet sound and touch made Lin Yan tremble like he'd been shocked and he couldn't help getting goose bumps. Regardless of the time or place, the ghost's intrusions and being forced into submission made Lin Yan feel like he was on fire. He thought he was a patient man, but this thing was like a fucking wolf cub, always searching for warmth and touch. He couldn't help but kick out his legs and scolded fiercely: "Get away!"

"People and ghosts have different paths. It doesn't matter what you want, I can't accompany you in death as a living person!"

The ghost's movements stopped. Lin Yan could feel him shaking slightly, and the weight on his body slowly moved away. There was a long sigh in the darkness. The face of the ghost appeared in front of him, looking desperate to protect him and keep him close. Lin Yan couldn't bear it. He lowered his voice and said to the darkness in front of him: "Listen to me, it's time to go."

"I won't bother you, you don't bother me, we don't owe each other anything, what do you say?"

After no response, Lin Yan stretched out his hand and didn't touch anything.

Was it really gone? Lin Yan rolled over and sat up. He rubbed his back, sore from lying on the ground. The bloody smell lingered in his mouth. He stretched out the tip of his tongue and touched it with his fingers, sending a small shock of pain. At the same time, there was a strange knocking sound from the other side of the room, almost like knuckles knocking against an object like a water tank. There was a repeated muffled sound resounding with a buzzing echo: "Dang-dang, dang-dang. . ."

There was almost no light in the room. Lin Yan opened his eyes wide and still couldn't see anything.

"Is that you?"

"Clang clang clang. . ." The noise sounded anxiously. It seemed impatient and a little anxious.

". . . What are you trying to tell me?"

There was only another quiet knock in response. Lin Yan let out a sigh. He stood up and patted the dirt off his pants. He went to the door and pulled on the handle. The knocking sound stopped abruptly when the door opened, and the lights poured in. A-Yan and Yin Zhou stood there with a peach-wood sword and a yellow talisman coated with cinnabar, their faces drained of colour.

"Damn, I was scared to death. I thought you would be a pile of bones when we got the door open!" Yin Zhou grabbed the yellow talisman and waved it in front of him. A-Yan muttered something, and rushed a few steps into the room. Lin Yan followed him, glancing back.

"A-Yan, forget it." Lin Yan said softly, "He was no big deal. I'll think of another way."

A ghost who had been dead for hundreds of years still holds so much obsession and resentment for the world. Even after reciting the Buddhist scriptures 300,000 times or spending 7749 days in a Daoist temple could disperse it. What kind of goal can make people not find peace? Lin Yan slowly turned his car into congested traffic. At 5 o'clock in the afternoon, the whole street was filled with warm yellow light. The car smelled of fresh air from the air conditioner, the air freshener had been used up, the light green paste dried at the bottom of the bottle. He remembered that when this bottle was first bought, Weiwei was sitting in the passenger seat. She had straightened her legs, unscrewed the lid and plugged the fragrance bottle under Lin Yan’s nose. She smiled and said that he seemed like the type of person to like the smell of mint.

"What the hell are you doing?" Lin Yan glanced at the empty passenger seat and couldn't help sighing.

He hasn't thought of Weiwei in such a long time.

More than half a year ago, there was a clean girl sitting in the same position, with short hair scattered, her voice sounding like beans hitting against a plate as each word rang out. She still kept her slippers and coral velvet nightgown at home, and the bodhi beads and ring that Lin Yan bought for her were carefully packed in a box, but she didn't take them with her. Lin Yan remembered returning that night. When she walked in, Weiwei stood quietly in the living room, lightly kissed Lin Yan's forehead, and went out after saying goodbye. Lin Yan chased her downstairs and stopped in front of her to ask her what went wrong. Weiwei put her hand in her jeans pocket and smiled freely. She said that he did nothing wrong, he just never truly loved her.

She thought it was insulting to look at her only as a suitable option for a marriage partner. She took off the ring and returned it to Lin Yan. In the night, her face resembled a gardenia blossom that had just bloomed. Her tone was very soft. Lin Yan, you are a good boy. One day you will find someone that you can't resist no matter what the conditions are. Then you'll understand.

The night wind ruffled her coat like a sail, and Lin Yan stood by the flower bed and watched her walk away, and finally did not chase her. In fact, he always knew that Weiwei had just been a safe choice for him. He lacked companionship, and that Weiwei was just right, nothing more.

He had his own secret pain, which he buried carefully for many years.

It was dinner by the time he made it home, the sky turned dark. He didn't know which family was cooking sweet and sour pork ribs, but the delicious sauce aroma was enough to make him drool. Lin Yan parked the car in the garage of the complex and took out a shopping bag from his back seat that was stuffed to the brim. A stack of talisman paper painted with bright red text on the dashboard was particularly eye-catching. Lin Yan stared at it for a while and folded it into his pocket. He shook his head and closed the car door.

He has tried his best to avoid mentioning the ghost's sexual obsession and desires, but he felt that A-Yan was still aware of it. When he left, the little Daoist have him the pile of yellow paper, He stuttered that burning it to ashes and flushing them away with water could prevent evil from getting close, and stick one to the door to keep the house safe. Each one could last about a day. Lin Yan took out a box of instant mushroom chicken rice from the shopping bag, made a few holes in the plastic film and threw it into the microwave. When the rice was cooked, he took out the charms and looked through them. The cinnabar was scribbled into some incomprehensible text. The blood stains dried into small brown spots from when A-Yan bit his tongue and sprayed on them.

Flick. The flame of the lighter rose.

The eerie chill in the room visibly moved, as if reluctantly took a couple steps back.

Lin Yan suddenly hesitated when the corner of the charm was about to reach the flames and send away a ghost who was beyond loneliness. He raised his head and looked at the direction of the cold spot. After a moment, he asked softly, "Are you there?"

The thing got closer, and the cold feeling grew again. Lin Yan knew that this was a sign of his anger. At this point, if he showed even a little resistance, the ghost would pounce on his body ruthlessly, as if it were mad.

"You have nowhere else to go except to follow me. If I don't use this, then you won't touch me, will you?"

Lin Yan put the lighter aside and spread his hands in the direction where the cold spot was.

There was a crisp ding from the microwave. The chicken and mushroom rice was cooked, and the tempting aroma of the food made Lin Yan feel like he was worlds away. It felt like he hadn't had a good meal for a long time. He turned on the kitchen faucet and soaked each of the talismans in the sink. Lin Yan picked them up and crumpled them into a trash can. The cinnabar was wet and it ran off of each of them like blood stains.

The thin cold air had shifted closer. Lin Yan was a little nervous, and subconsciously gulped. He didn't know if there was any use in negotiating with ghosts, and he was even more worried that showing weakness would give the other more opportunities to attack. The icy hands caught Lin Yan's wrists, and his soft lips pressed on his forehead. Lin Yan froze for a moment, and when he was about to retreat, the coldness retreated first, floating away but staying nearby.

For dinner, Lin Yan took two cups from the cabinet and poured some juice. He also put two pairs of chopsticks in the rice bowl. There was a hollow ceramic antique lamp hanging above the dining table. The warm light was projected from the carved flowers on the porcelain wall. The whole room was shrouded in a quiet atmosphere. Lin Yan picked up the cup and raised it to the empty chair opposite of him. He reluctantly smiled, and said softly: "You'll let me live for three more months, right?"

"Cheers then, for being roommates for three months."

Lin Yan felt that it was almost worse to laugh than cry in this situation. For so many years, there has been something more terrifying to him than the threat of ghosts. It was hidden for too long and too deep, and when he had almost forgotten it, it was dug out again. Lin Yan didn't want to admit it. He was also ashamed to admit that he was shuddering to an erection because a man sucked and kissed on his earlobe. It felt like a worm had crawled in his heart, and every twitch made it itchy and unbearable. He finally broke down halfway through the meal, put down his chopsticks and rushed into the bathroom without closing the door. He knew that closing the door would not even leave him a shred of dignity. For the first time in the ambiguous darkness, he indulged himself between his hips. The stiffness of his legs made him crazy. Lin Yan leaned on the wall and groaned, his face flushed, and the tip of his nose was wet with fine sweat. He panted and stroked his front end to comfort him.

For once, the shadow in the mirror did not approach. He just stood not far away and watched Lin Yan go from hesitation to struggle and finally abandoning himself. When he climaxed, he slid along the wall and sat on the ground, looking at the person in the mirror helplessly. He let out a loud whimper.

Why do you have to force me to do this?

You let me go.

Who hasn't done a dirty act behind closed doors and walked out pretending everything was normal? Leave the ugliest side of you to me, give me your darkest desires, hold me tightly at your most miserable moments, even if you die, let your soul belong to me, and neither time nor fate can separate us from now on.

Lin Yan took out more things from the shopping bag; rice paper, inkstones, stone ball, ink ingots, writing brush. He spread a piece of soft felt onto the table, cut the rice paper into two pieces and flattened it with the ball. The hot water melted the soft glue of the wolf hair pen tip, and the wetted tip brushed against the inkstone. There was only a table lamp in the room, and everything seemed otherworldly in the dim light, as if everything had changed through a milky white veil. The carved frame, the sandalwood case, the lake gauze tent embroidered with butterflies and flowers, and the white-clothed man listened to the wind by the window, grasping a lake pen, with a copy of "Taiping Guang Ji" in hand. The yellowed pages of the book turned and rustled when the wind blew, the story mostly false with a little truth; gods and monsters are obsessed, but they can't write about the love of the world like humans can.

"Do you remember your name from when you were alive?"

The brush actually stood up in the air under the dark shadow of the lamp. It seemed to think for a while. A drop of ink fell on the paper and turned into an irregular round spot, and a faint water mark was drawn from the edge.

It was nice and clear calligraphy.

Xiao Yu.

"Your unresolved wish. . . What is it?"

The tip of the pen hung on the paper but there was no more writing that came.

For the first time since the strange incidents began, Lin Yan had a good night's sleep and had no dreams all night.

[comfy-whumpee]

Rozen 5

TW: self-harm (whumpee coerced into threatening to hurt themself as bargaining tactic). @sola-whumpings-primary-blog

“D-Don’t come any closer.”

Rozen freezes mid-step on their way into the living room. Ellis stands, shakily, eyes on them the whole way. He sways on his feet for a moment, but keeps on guard. They can’t rush him. They can’t sneak up on him.

Not with that knife.

He holds it against his stomach, glinting in the light, and it’s the biggest of the block in the kitchen. The length of his hand. Barely used. Sharp.

“I’m leaving,” he says, very clearly and carefully. Light brown eyes track Rozen as they settle onto both feet, standing straight, knees slightly bent to catch him if he bolts.

Their voice is perfectly calm. This is a threat, not an action. “Ellis, I can’t let you go back to him. Please put the knife down and we’ll talk about a compromise.”

“No,” he replies, quickly, and his eyes widen as he says it. “No, I’m leaving. Move out of the way.”

Some instinct pings at his expression, and Rozen looks more closely. His chest is heaving with the too-quick breaths of panic. His face is pale. He’s trembling. He’s obviously terrified...

He’s not in control.

Rozen takes a slow breath of their own. They don’t know how the control works, whether it’s literal or figurative or illusory or just the heavy weight of Ellis’s conditioning forcing him to obey the man’s every word even when he poses no actual threat. But they can look for its limits.

They pitch their voice soft. “He’s talking to you, isn’t he?” they tell him, confident despite their many questions. “Alistair.”

They catch, this time, Ellis’s eyes going distant before he replies. Listening to what’s inside his head. “No,” he murmurs. “I just want to leave.”

The words are all there, but unconvincing. He’s a bad liar, isn’t he? “It’s okay, Ellis. It’s okay if he’s talking to you. I want to talk to you too, so I’m not going to move. Let’s just talk. Did he tell you to get the knife?”

His throat bobs in a swallow. He takes a moment, too long a moment, before he speaks again. This time, his eyes don’t focus at all. “Hello, detective.”

The voice is faint and unsteady, but the words – Rozen feels a chill run up their back, lifting the hairs into goose bumps. That’s not Ellis speaking. That’s Engels.

But Ellis is still there, still watching, or listening, as much as he can with the firm grip Engels has on his actions and perhaps even thoughts. They can’t scare him. Especially not with the knife still in his shaking grip.

Rozen takes another deep breath, and straightens their glasses. “Alistair Engels,” they reply, tone level. Ellis flinches, quick and involuntary, as he realises they know. “You need to let him go.”

A delay, again, as the words are delivered and repeated. A smaller delay, this time, but enough to suggest his control is not direct. That’s good, that’s very, very good. “You’re the one who needs to let him go. He’s a captive here and he wants to leave. You kidnapped him from his home.”

That is absolutely Engels. His argument, his word choices. “Protective custody,” they repeat. “No authority is going to believe that he wanted to stay somewhere that treated him how you did. Let him go. He doesn’t deserve this.”

Ellis winces again. Not the first time he’s done so, at the idea of deserving. They file that one for later. More relevant is that he’s still in there, still listening.

“He told you he wanted to leave. You tied him to a chair.” It’s surreal, watching Ellis talk about himself in the third person, none of his expressions or tone matching the accusatory words. “You terrified him into submission.”

Engels shouldn’t know he was tied to a chair. Was he watching, somehow? Was he watching the whole time?

Was he watching during the rescue?

He’s not coming back, Ellis had said. Rozen had ignored it at the time, assumed it was Ellis knowing his captor’s routine, but perhaps it was true. Perhaps Ellis knew.

“So why did you let me take him, then?” Rozen asks. This is useful, gets the guy talking, gives them clues, and the longer he holds Ellis in suspense the more tired he’ll be, and the slower to react. “You knew the second I was with him, you were there in his head the whole time. You could have stopped me, and instead you made him comply.”

Even if they’re wrong, if Ellis believes it, or even just considers it, it puts a chink in his conditioning.

Their dubious reward for the deduction is seeing Ellis’s eyes widen again, and the knife moves to press into his shirt, pressing a divot into his front. Rozen takes a slow step closer, hands out, and he blurts, “Stop!”

They stop.

He breathes, quick, silent – always silent, his breathing, must be a rule – and laboured. He’s scared out of his mind.

“You’re the one scaring him,” Rozen says. “Look at what he’s doing to you, Ellis. Making you hurt yourself so he can lock you up again. Using you as a hostage. You don’t have to do what he says.”

For a moment, Ellis almost seems to believe them.

“You don’t have to do this,” they press, voice filling with sympathy. “I know you don’t want to. You can put the knife down, right now, and be safe from him. We’ll figure out how to get him out of your head. He can’t hurt you.”

His eyes flutter closed, then snap open again, and the tension stiffens across his body, and a spot of red appears under the tip of the knife, and they’ve lost him.

He takes a step forwards. “Move,” Engels says through him. They don’t know, now, if it’s still voluntary, or full control. Another step. “I said, move.”

They step to the side, giving him space to pass them.

“Move up the hall.”

“Ellis, you can stop—”

“Move!” he pleads, undermining Alistair’s order with his own desperation, and they retreat, backing up the hall until he feels safe enough to head for the door.

“It’s locked, Ellis. Just put the knife down and—”

“Where’s the key?”

“In my pocket. Please, Ellis, just drop it. He can’t hurt you here.”

“It’s not,” he starts, and then cuts off with a flinch. Those were his words, they realise, his words, he spoke to them, he is still in there and able to take control. “Take the keys out and throw them over here.”

Slowly, they reach into their red jacket, keeping their eyes on him. “It’s going to be okay,” they tell the terrified man holding the knife, meeting eyes that try not to focus on their own. “I’m going to protect you, Ellis.”

“Master protects me,” he whispers, eyes tracking the keys.

“Not anymore.”

They throw the keys – hard, fast, and directly at his face. The knife clatters to the ground as his hands rise, instinctively, to block it, protecting his eyes, and his back hits the door as they dash forwards and wrap their arms around him, pinning his elbows to his sides. They kick back, heel catching the blade, sending it spinning back across the floorboards into a far corner, and as Ellis gives a full-body jerk of resistance, press him back into the door with all their body weight, slowly dragging him down underneath them.

“No,” his voice emerges, frantic with fear, “no, no, please don’t, please Rozen I want to go, please let me go I’m scared, I don’t want this Rozen please please—”

“It’s alright,” they tell him, pinning him down under them now, feeling his struggles stop so fast it must be instinct. “You’re alright, Ellis. I promise.”

Under the sound of his tear-filled voice, they hear a car start outside, and pull away. They know the sound of that engine. Engels was right there, waiting.

They’re going to hide every fucking sharp thing in this house, and then they’re going to look at moving.

[soulwillower]

pleaser • eddie kaspbrak

(punk!eddie kaspbrak x reader smut)  

[title is from pleaser by wallows]

requested: hii i hope u did gr8 on ur finals! can i request an eddie smut where he takes control bc he got jealous of something that richie said about the reader? thank you!    +     punk eddie smut?? maybe jealous?    +    can you write a smumt fic where richie teases the reader and punk eddie gets insecure/jealous abt it? 

warnings: swearing, smut, PUNK EDDIE my fav!!!,  kinda dom eddie, hes soft tho ofc, a teensy bit of dirty talking, jealous eddie, a little possessive ig, unedited as fuck!

[losers + reader are 18+.]

these requests are SO OLD IM SO SORRY UGH, also not sure how i feel abt the smut part so i may do some edits later

2.4k words

♡

"eddie, can you please get me some water?" you call loudly into the kitchen. the losers were all at richie's house for a movie night, piled on the couch and floor with blankets, you sitting and waiting for your boyfriend to come reclaim his spot next to you. it was a nice tradition that you all held, it made you guys comfortable to have that kind of routine stability in your hectic lives.

"you like bossing your boy around, huh? doesn't ever get tiring, y/n?" richie asks, making you roll your eyes lightly. 

"he takes care of me." you mutter with a shrug, still engrossed with what mike was doing with rubber bands, flipping them up and catching them. it's cold in the basement room, making you shiver beneath eddie's navy blue sweater that you'd borrowed.

richie chuckles a bit and you send him a look - his eyes are joking but you still squint as he opens his mouth again. "well i could take real good care of you, y/n." he winks at you. 

you lift a brow, "whatever, rich."

"just saying," richie jests even further, "if you need someone to... y’know, take control, i got you."

"beep beep, richie." stan mutters as you flip him off. he holds his hands up in surrender as he, ben, mike and stan chuckle, richie turning his attention to mike’s rubber bands. you and bev share a look as you roll your eyes with a smile, knowing that richie was completely joking.

as they come back in, bill hands you the glass of water that you'd asked for as he and eddie spread out the snacks. afterwards, eddie sits down next to you, huffing lightly and making you look at him. he smiles at you toothlessly, pushing his bleached hair back as his rings glint in the light of the tv.

you notice that his smile looks fake, but when you ask him what's wrong he just shakes his head, telling you to leave it. you frown, a hollow feeling in your chest for the rest of the movie, even as eddie's hand, complete with rings and chipped nail polish - falls gently on your thigh.

after, you’re giving eddie a ride home. it's slightly tense over the music that plays through your stereo, eddie staring out the window with scuffed vans kicked up on your dash. 

you're itching to ask him what's wrong, but every time you try to bring it up, you look at his furrowed brows as he stares out the window and hums along to heaven knows im miserable now and you chicken out.

so instead, as  you near the turn that you’d make to eddie’s, you clear your throat. "eddie, do you- do you want to come back to mine?" you ask him, giving him your best innocent grin. he just shrugs, barely looking over before nodding in a reserved manner. "sure."

you have an almost sick feeling in your stomach because of course eddie’s mad at what richie had said earlier - who wouldn’t be? and it’s not like you outright just told richie to stop. you weren’t sure if he’d heard earlier, but you’re pretty sure now.

you get eddie into your house and up to your room quickly, slipping past your sleeping family. 

you sigh as you shut your door and barely flip on the lamp near your bed before he kisses you heatedly, taking you aback slightly. 

"eager, are we?" you say breathlessly as you slide onto your normal spot on his lap, kissing him deeply. he kisses you harshly after your words, his hands pawing at your hips. your hands roam around him, gripping the collars of his striped shirt, toying with the chains that hung above the buttons.

his hands fall to your hips and as you pull away, he's biting his lip. "alright. what's going on, eddie?" you ask softly, recognizing his conflicted look as you set your hands on his rosy cheeks. 

he peers up at you with doe eyes and you softly brush a few way blonde strands from his forehead. "nothing, but-" he shuts his mouth, looking frustrated, dark brows furrowed. you wait patiently for him, but you don't stop from moving your hips slightly against his groin to feel him against you. his hand falls to grip your hip and you look to him again as he squeezes your hips.

"richie was being a dick." eddie says, staring up at you with a small blush. your eyebrows raise in shock. "which time?" you ask sarcastically and when he doesn't laugh with you, you tilt your head.

"he said i can't please you." he states and the air becomes thick with tension. you start, “well that’s definitely not how richie phrased it, eddie, of course he wasn-"

eddie shakes his head, cutting off what you were going to say, "you're not his. he doesn't get to say that shit. i can take control sometimes." he says stubbornly. you nod. "yeah, eddie, but you don't have to if you don't want to-"

"let me. let me make you feel good." he mutters then, looking pissed as his hands stay splayed around your thighs and it’s more hot than you think it should be. you let out a shuddering breath as you nod, "okay, baby."

he then nudges you back onto the mattress and pressing against you, eliciting a small gasp from you. your hands immediately card through his hair as he kisses you hotly again, sliding between your hips and slotting his against yours.

and then he grinds down on you, rolling his hips and making you shudder, the feeling of his hard cock pressing on your core making you sigh with need. he's never been this dominant before and you get butterflies as he presses against you again. he's kissing your neck softly, occasionally nipping and sucking on your soft skin and making you gasp in pleasure as he grinds down more solidly.

"fuck," you can't help but whimper, "eddie, that feels so good." his face turns red but there's a smirk on his lips as he thrusts forward again, mouthing down your chest before peeling off your top.

he sits up, taking his own long sleeve off and you can't help but stare, his pale bare skin almost making you blush. you watch closely as his fingers trail over your bra delicately and move to your back, undoing the clasp and watching with lust hidden eyes as the material falls from your skin. the cold air of your room hits you and goose bumps cover your bare skin, making eddie groan.

“fuck, baby. you’re so pretty.” he says, licking his lips. you sigh almost silently, feeling wetness pool in your underwear from the way he looks and his words. you need him so bad. 

you look at him staring down at your body, puffy lips parted in bliss and eyes lidded in lust, silver chains dangling from his neck against his pale skin, his collarbones splattered with a few fading hickeys from when eddie'd brought you to the skate park with him the other night and you'd made out in his car. he's so perfect that the sight alone makes all the breath leaves your lungs.

then he's leaning down slowly, catching one of your nipples between his lips and flattening his tongue before flicking it lightly, his fingers pinching your other one softly. 

you whimper at the feeling and you can't help the gasp that leaves your mouth as eddie's hand then sneaks down, fingers rubbing against your folds through your pants. "please, eddie." you beg, bucking up into his hand and making him pull off of your chest with a smirk.

he says nothing as he drags your pants and underwear down your thighs, the metal of his rings making you shiver again. you're bare under him and he gently spreads your thighs, one hand holding your thigh, the other sliding slowly down your stomach. 

you feel yourself get wetter every moment that you stare at him - and then his thumb is swirling in your heat, making you keen lowly, moving your hips up to meet his hand. he's never acted like this, and it's new and shocking to you as he presses one finger into you suddenly, pumping immediately and his body lowering to catch your lips with his own.

he curls his finger as he pumps into you at a fast pace, his chains dangling down and tickling the skin in between your breasts in the most delicious way. the coolness of the thin necklaces dragging against your skin makes you shiver. "another." you whimper and eddie hums, pulling his head back. 

"what do you say?" he says quietly, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as he drags his finger out of you and you feel two press against your entrance. 

you whimper, hips bucking against them in need, is he going to make you beg? why is that so hot? 

"please, eddie." you say, your stomach filled with shock that eddie could be like this. he nods with a smirk as he pushes two fingers into you, making you arch your back as pleasure courses through your body. he pumps into you, curling his fingers as he does and you whimper into his mouth, hands snaking up into his fluffy hair. 

his thumb rubs light circles on your clit, making you bite back a scream as he continues to thrust his fingers into you, your hands moving to rake down his bare back and making him hiss quietly. 

"eddie, please, i need to feel you." you say, very close to begging on your knees. he smirks lightly, standing up to pull off his cuffed black pants and hopping on one leg slightly. 

immediately as he’s upright, your hand palms his hard cock from outside his boxers and he lets out a hushed groan, head tilting back. you almost pull him out and take him into your mouth, but hes pushing you to lay back down, pulling off his boxers and climbing on top of you again.

he lines up against your entrance and stares at you, cheeks pink. you bite your lip, tugging him by one of his thin silver chains down so he's flush against you, and you kiss him sloppily, slowly sliding your hips against his tip to relieve your desperation. 

"you ready?" he mutters breathlessly as he pulls away and you nod quickly, hands falling onto his shoulders as he slowly pushes into you. you let out a strangled noise as he slides into you, stretching you out perfectly and making you smile in pleasure. 

"shit." he mutters into your neck before he starts to move his hips at a quicker pace than usual, making you gasp out and grip the sheets with one hand.

his hips start to snap and you bite his neck as waves of satisfaction course through your body. "eddie, i-" you cut yourself off as you let out a groan, almost overwhelmed by the pleasure filling your veins and making your legs shake. 

"you're mine." he mutters as he thrusts into you in a quick pace, your legs wrapped around his waist. “not his.” 

his words and the feeling of him filling you and stretching you perfectly makes you let out a strangled, "yeah, eddie - fuck - 'm yours." your words makes him thrust even harder, hitting a spot in you that gives you that familiar coil feeling and you emit a loud moan. 

his hand quickly covers your mouth and he leans into your ear, "baby, we have to be quiet. your family could wake up and hear." and then he kisses the skin under your ear as he fucks into you.

you can't help it as your eyes roll back in pleasure from his words and you screw them shut, the feeling of eddie hitting deep into you making you twitch and clench around him. he lets out a small moan of your name and grips your thighs as he hikes you up slightly. 

the deeper angle as he lifts you slightly has you moaning against his hand, eyes finding his wide honey ones. "fuck - you close, baby?" he asks and you can tell he's trying not to cum first. you nod as he fucks into you and your eyes scrunch shut in pleasure again when his other hand sneaks between you to toy with your clit. 

you can't stop the whines that leave your mouth as his hand leaves your lips, lowering to palm one of your breasts as he kisses you harshly.

as his hips slam into you and make your back arch in pleasure, he moves his head lower to suck marks on your neck. your body shakes as he thrusts deeply into you and you whimper his name as you hit your high suddenly, your breathing coming out in ragged gasps. you clench and spasm around him, whimpering his name every few seconds as he follows closely behind you and suddenly eddie fills every sense, his quiet groans and mutters following his own peak. 

for a few seconds, he hovers above you, stilling his hips as you both catch your breath, before he collapses next to you with a deep exhale.

you stare up at the ceiling in awe. "eddie, that was... unexpected." you say, exhausted. he rolls over, his hand wrapping around your middle and nuzzling his head into the crook of your shoulder, his bare skin against yours relaxing you. "sorry, y/n/n. richie made me mad."

you shake your head, kissing the crown of eddie's head and smelling his coconut shampoo. his hand traces your stomach, the word in an inky stick n poke scribbled on his hand making you chuckle. chaotic, that was one word for it. 

"it's okay, my love. and you don't have anything to worry about, you know." you reassure him. 

 he leans to catch your lips with his softly before pulling back with a blushy grin, "yeah, because he’s a fucking dumb ass. and that was pretty fun, anyways."

[bookandcranny]

Little Angels

One]

It is dark inside a wolf’s belly, but up here the air is clear and bright. Atop the tower of Paradiso, above the city of mist and gray. The roof is all caved in and shattered, scattering brilliant prisms through the fragmented skylight and across the floor. A man stands alone in the wreckage, inside the skeletal remains of this holy animal. He sifts through the books that were left behind until he finds one with a red cover and no title, but the letters A-D embossed along its spine. He flips to a certain chapter, and begins to read.

It was in another kind of tower that it happened. The Detective entered into the penthouse apartment of the Deeds family, a couple from the upper crust who were in a state of panic over their missing teenage daughter. From that first frantic phone call with the grief-ridden Gloria Deeds, Sacha knew the shape of this case inside out, backwards, and upside down. It was a classic. 

Teenage girl from a wealthy family, sheltered her whole life, the type who could do no wrong in the eyes of her doting, overbearing parents. One night she leaves without warning, to chase some guy or some band or some misplaced sense of adventure. The reasons didn’t matter as much as what they were willing to pay for the reassurance that their precious little angel would be home safe and sound.

There were just a couple of details he hadn’t counted on.

Sacha sat idling on the side of the road, looking down at the photo the Deeds’ had given him. It was a little roughed up at the edges and faded at the crease where he’d folded it. He’d forgotten how fragile these old-fashioned print photographs were. Despite the damage, the face of thirteen year old Renee Deeds still looked up at him with those same gentle brown eyes and private smile. 

The girl in the photo, however accurate it was to real life, had her hair pulled back in a crowd of twin braids that crested over thick dark curls. She wore what Sacha presumed to be church clothes-- tidy blouse and long skirt, an heirloom brooch-- and a pair of crutches braced to her forearms. Her ankles were crossed and tucked limply to one side, away from the camera’s focus.

The girl’s disability put a complication in the narrative he’d been concocting. According to the Deedses, Renee could only go so far on foot without intense pain and she disliked using her chair. It remained in the hall closet, untouched since her disappearance. Mr Deeds worked from home most days so rather than send her off to school, she was homeschooled by a well-vetted private tutor under her father’s occasional supervision. She had few friends, being a reserved child, they said. Sacha thought it probably had more to do with the gilded cage she lived in, lined with bubblewrap and goose down lest she ever bruise her precious knees. But it wasn’t his place to say.

Regardless, this left him with a very limited pool of suspects. And suspects they were indeed, since the Deeds were certain Renee had been kidnapped. Such a good girl would never have just wandered off on her own. 

If that was indeed the case, the culprit had done a remarkable job of covering their tracks. Renee was last seen by her mother who had put her to bed at 9 'o'clock on the dot. The security system had been armed all night and there were no signs of tampering. Besides which, the only way out of the penthouse that didn’t involve a several story drop to a very unhappy ending was through the front lobby and the cameras in and outside it didn’t detect anyone unusual, coming or going. 

The parents’ first move, naturally, was to call the police. The cops questioned the other residents and scanned the security tapes but turned up empty handed and after a few weeks of daily calls the officers on the case all but told Mr and Mrs Deeds that their hands were tied. For once, even money and social standing couldn’t hasten the hand of justice. That was when they had called on private investigator Sacha Ferro to get the job done.

All these facts laid out before him, Sacha found himself no closer to the answer than he had been at the start. The difference between then and now was not information but desperation, the heights of which had brought him here. Orphan’s Hollow.

The last few years had hit this city hard, same as it did all of them. It wasn’t a single sudden thing, but rather a combination of natural disasters, a virulent epidemic, and the consequential economic collapse that left entire districts barren, now inhabited only by clustered communities of the homeless. The handful of city blocks now known as Orphan’s Hollow was one such district, named so because it was, if stories were to be believed, populated entirely by children. Hollowed out department stores and office buildings and, most notably, the abandoned fairgrounds of Fun Town West became a tragic Neverland for runaways and other parentless youth in hiding from the overburdened childcare system.

Recently, there had been an epidemic of another kind in many of the nearby boroughs. Kids were going missing, just like Renee Deeds had, except most families weren’t fortunate enough to be able to hire someone to track them down. From what Sacha could pick up, most of them-- those that were reported-- were girls between the ages of six and sixteen. Other than that, the demographics were all over the map: black, white, rich, poor, healthy, sick. Missing posters spawned and spread like mold across the billboards and telephone poles, while the local government processed statistics with dead eyes and shrugging shoulders.

The unspoken truth seemed to be that if they were anywhere, if they were alive, the missing girls were somewhere in here. But the kids of Orphan’s Hollow were protective of their own and wouldn’t likely allow any cops to sift through their ranks even if they did trust their motives. It became one of those open secrets that everyone knew about but no one wanted to touch. 

On top of that, not every orphan was some scrawny Dickens novel side character; there were rumors of gang activity and even some sort of cult that made the teenagers who ended up in this part of town vicious towards outsiders. Orphan’s Row was a name with more than one meaning, they said, because if you took those kids lightly they’d turn yours into orphans as well. None of that mattered to Sacha though. At this point, he had little left to lose.

There was a gun in the glovebox of the Detective’s hatchback, unloaded, and he hoped it would stay that way. The idea of turning any weapon on a kid, no matter their alleged viciousness, turned his stomach. He would bring it with him to be used, in only the most absolutely dire circumstances, as a threat. Leverage. If it came down to it, he could rationalize that.

As he turned down another vacant street into the ghost town, the weather began to turn as well. It had been drizzling steadily since the evening prior, making the humidity all the more unbearable, but now the rain relented and in its place a clotted mist settled low over the city, like ink diffusing in water. Sacha kept his lights low and foot barely pressing on the gas pedal. Though it was irrational he felt uneasy at the idea of making himself any more noticeable than he was already.

When the car jolted it was like being shaken awake from a dream. At first he thought it was another pothole-- the roads were a wreck after so long untended-- but then there was an audible crunch and a lurch as his front-left tire burst. Without bothering to pull over he got out and found the problem right away. Deep in the tire, lodged between the wheel and its socket, was a doll. Or at least, something that was trying to be a doll.

The body was made out of metal; scraps from perhaps an aluminum can worked together with screws and painted to give it the look of a hoop-skirted dress. Its head was a christmas ornament. He recognized the pink painted cherub cheeks and curling synthetic hair. Some broken edge of the makeshift toy had punctured the tire, and of course Sacha didn’t have a spare on hand, even if he could figure out how to rip the damn thing out of the wheel well. 

He muttered a curse to himself. He’d have to leave it here and keep going on foot. At least there wasn’t anything in the car worth stealing, and he didn’t exactly have to worry about getting a ticket.

A sudden shriek made Sacha jump, hand going blindly to the holster under his shirt.

“My doll!” the child cried again. “You killed Jessika! My dolly!”

Sacha turned around and saw a young girl, barefoot and wearing what looked like an old halloween costume, standing across the street from him like a specter out of the fog. Appropriate, since she was so keen on howling like a banshee.

“Hey, I’m so sorry about your dolly,” he gentled, crossing to meet her. 

The girl seemed to be considering running away from the strange man, as would well be her right, but stood her ground instead as her face grew redder.

“You killed her,” she said again. “She was a person and you killed her.”

Sacha dropped to one knee. “ I’m sorry about your Jessica--” 

“Jessika!”

He chewed the inside of his cheek. “I am sorry, but it was an accident, really. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

She sniffled. “I’m Princess Ladybird,” she said, as though it should have been obvious. She gestured at her costume, a pink sparkly dress studded with plastic gems around the collar. “Who are you? You’re not supposed to be here.”

“My name is Sacha. I’m a private investigator-- a detective,” he corrected, seeing her confused expression. “I’m looking for someone. They’re not in any trouble, I just need to make sure they’re safe. Do you think you could help me, your highness?”

He kept his voice low and comforting. Dealing with kids wasn’t exactly his specialty, but he knew what he was doing well enough.

“No! No!” the girl cried, more agitated than ever. “No grownups allowed! You’ll just hurt them, just like Jessika!”

“I’m not here to hurt anyone,” he insisted, growing frustrated. “And I told you didn’t mean to break your doll. I could buy you a new doll? A nicer doll.”

She shook her head adamantly. “The store dolls aren’t alive. I only play with alive dolls.”

Play along, Sacha. “Okay, where can I get you a new ‘alive’ doll?”

“You can’t make an alive doll, you’re too old,” she huffed. 

Sacha was not going to let himself be offended by a six year old. He wasn’t. “If your dolls are so precious, maybe you shouldn’t leave them in the street!”

“Maybe you should look where you’re going!” With that, she stomped on his foot and ran away. Sacha barely felt it through his shoes, but that was a small consolation. In a blink the princess was gone again.

He sighed. It was no less than he expected, but it still didn’t feel good. With the world they’d been living in, it wasn’t any surprise that the kids here were a bit strange. At least this one had seemed healthy enough, certainly energetic. That meant there was probably someone making sure she was kept fed. 

He reminded himself that there was nothing he could do for these kids. Better to focus on what he was here for.

Two]

Sacha walked along the sidewalk without any real sense of where he was going. He occasionally saw clusters of children playing games or jumping in puddles in the street, but most were inside keeping out of the weather. When he looked up he sometimes saw tiny faces peering down at him from high windows or crouched on fire escapes. The ones on the ground didn’t spare him a look except in fleeting disgust. There was a girl reading fortunes for her friends from a dented pack of playing cards who went abruptly silent when he passed by, and Sacha came to realize that they were deliberately ignoring him, hoping to shun him into leaving the way he came. 

When he tried to approach a pair of tweens doing some sort of craft project in a sheltered doorway, they quickly picked up their things and scampered away, leaving only a trail of paint droplets behind them. They didn’t look too terribly hard-off; their clothes were sometimes dirty but they were all in one piece and their eyes were bright and lively. It was sort of amazing, Sacha thought, how they’d really managed to build something of a community here, away from adults. Part of him almost envied them.

“Excuse me,” he tried again with a girl who was a bit older than the last. Her age didn’t make her look any more mature really, only sharper, as if she were growing but growing into the wrong shape. “I’m looking for--”

“Everyone knows what you’re looking for,” the young woman said. “You’re loud enough about it.”

This one wasn’t exactly friendly but at least she hadn’t run away yet. Sacha went to pull out a photo. 

“Put that away, man,” she hissed. “You’re not going to find any girls who look like that here, and the wrong fledgling might just eat you alive for having it.”

“For having a photograph?” He didn’t bother to ask what a “fledgling” was supposed to be. Some sort of weird slang he was too dated to recognize, he guessed.

“For keeping another girl’s face! All you need is a face and a real-name and you can make that person do and say whatever you want.”

“Is this some kind of game you kids play? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“It’s not a game,” she said gravely. “You don’t understand anything. Walking into this world when you don’t know the rules is as good digging your own grave.”

“Help me catch up, then. Level with me,” Sacha pressed. “I can make it worth your while.”

He didn’t have much money on hand, but he had medicine credits set aside for emergencies and that should be worth its bytes in gold in a place like this. Or if not, she could pawn it and buy some earrings or animal crackers or whatever kids liked.

“Save it, I don’t have an account. Legally, most of the kids here don’t even exist. You’ll have to trade for what you want the old fashioned way, outsider.”

Exasperated, Sacha rooted around in his pockets and came up with a protein bar and a keychain that doubled as a bottle opener. The girl didn’t look impressed.

“Okay look, hand over the picture and the rest of it and I’ll tell you where you need to go, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Outsiders don’t survive long here.”

Sacha wasn’t convinced this wasn’t all some intimidation game, but he folded up the photo of Renee and handed it to her anyway. If he really needed the visuals he had pictures on his phone. He’d turned it off shortly after setting out, when the calls and texts from his sister started pouring in, but couldn’t quite bring himself to leave it behind in the car. He could just picture Maria pacing around the house scowling at his number as another message failed to go through. 

I’ll make it up to you, he promised her silently.

“There’s a spot two blocks that way,” She pointed. “Left, left, right, down some steps, and you’ll see a sign for The Love Nest. It’s hard to miss.”

Something about the name said through her lips made him want to recoil. The girl scoffed at his unease.

“Relax, it’s just the name left from the old owners. It belongs to the brood now. It’s a good place, a sacred place.” She sighed, looking up and around as if projecting to an imaginary audience. “Not that someone like you would get any of that, I guess. A lot of fledglings hang around there. If your girl can be found, you’ll find her there. If not, she’s already gone.”

“What do you mean ‘gone’?” he demanded.

“I mean gone.” she held up the photograph, still folded. “Gone like this.”

She tore the square neatly in two and let the halves flutter to the ground.

“I’m not even supposed to tell you this much, so if you missed your window don’t even think about hanging around here trying to dig out more information. You’re pushing your luck as it is.”

What an angry kid, Sacha thought to himself as he departed. He wasn’t too different when he was that age, but outright threatening someone who was only trying to do good seemed a bit extreme, especially when that someone had a good head of height on you as well. Was it the conditions they lived in that made them so temperamental here? Or just adolescent angst? Hopefully he wouldn’t be staying long enough to find out.

And just how was he planning to leave, even if he was successful, he wondered. He’d have to drive them out on three tires. Ruining his car would be well worth it though if it meant ending this.

Angry girl’s directions turned out to be sound and soon enough Sacha found himself at the door of a closed down club that proudly announced itself as “The Love Nest” in faded pink letters above the door. The windows were boarded up but there were still some old posters for the upcoming live entertainment pinned to the plywood. It appeared the place had been at least marginally more legitimate than Sacha had guessed by the name, while it had been in operation.

Pushing through the double doors the Detective found himself in a gloomy ballroom, styled vaguely like a vintage cabaret club or perhaps someone’s romanticized idea of a 1920s speakeasy. There were a few tables-- standing only by virtue of the bolts that held them to the hardwood-- a bar, and a large circular stage in the middle of it all. Sacha toed aside what he’d thought was a trash bag only to hear a grumbled complaint and find another of the hollow’s orphans crawling out of a sleeping bag on the floor.

“What are you doing here?” the kid asked, with such pointed accusation you’d think he’d personally wronged them. They were wearing an oversized “Fun Town” t-shirt and flannel bottoms with a paw print pattern.

Roused by the noise, some other children began emerging from their own napping spots to investigate.

“Are you a cop?” one asked.

“No, I’m more of a detective,” he replied.

“Sounds like a cop to me. And you look like a cop.”

Sacha frowned. “How so?”

“You’re old,” the kid said. “And you have blood on you.”

He looked down at his hands, his clothes. He saw brown khakis, dusty black loafers, pale patterned button-up shirt. No tie; he’d spilled coffee on it on the drive, hands already shaky from the ill-advised extra caffeine. To his embarrassment, he noticed a faint dampness where the weather and his own nerves had painted sweat across his collar, but no blood.

“It’s okay,” said the first child, yawning. “Snowy sees blood on everyone.”

“I don’t see it, I smell it,” challenged Snowy. She took a deep breath through her nose. “And you stink of it. Dirty blood, blood that wasn’t ready to be shed. Have you ever killed anybody, Mr Detective?”

Sacha fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Have you been talking to a girl in a princess dress?”

“You mean Princess Ladybird?”

“Never mind,” he said quickly, as if simply mentioning that ridiculous name might conjure up her horrible wailing. “I’m looking for someone. Two someones actually.”

He considered taking out his phone but, remembering how Angry Girl had reacted to the photo, decided to try a different approach. 

“I was told I might find them here. One is named Renee Deeds and the other is Ana Ferro-Silver, eighteen and fifteen years old. Anything you can tell me about either of them would be a huge help. I’m sort of hoping one will lead me to the other.” He forced a smile. 

Kid in the pajamas frowned. “There’s no one with names like that here. You woke us up over something as dumb as that?”

“I don’t think it’s dumb to want to find two girls who might be in a lot of trouble,” he said tersely. “And why were you asleep anyway? It’s three in the afternoon.”

“Growing makes us tired,” Pajamas shot back. They rolled their shoulders. “And sore.”

“And hungry!” added a third child. “Did you bring us any food?”

“Why would I have any food?”

“I heard the gargoyles say you gave Singing Finch a candy bar.”

“It was a protein bar,” he said before he could think to deny it. “What kind of name is ‘Singing Finch’ anyway?”

“It would’ve been Evening Finch, but she tattled so now she’s Singing Finch,” they explained patiently. “She tattled on us and then she tattled on you to the gargoyles and the kestrels. She can’t help it though. She’s a songbird, it’s what they do.”

“So you don’t have any candy?” the other cut in. Sacha put out his empty hands so she could verify and she bit him.

Pajamas laughed as he pulled away with a curse and a cry. “You are dumb. There aren’t any girls in trouble here. You’re the only one in trouble, but that’s because you’re an outsider and a cop, so you probably deserve it.”

Sacha felt a muscle in his jaw tense. He was beginning to think this had all been a huge waste of time. These kids operated on their own kind of logic, their own language, one which was foreign to him. 

“Please,” he said. “Please. I know a lot of you are without families, but these girls still have people who care for them, who are looking for them. I have to bring them home.”

The children looked at him, and then a few of them looked at each other, huddling together in hushed conference. The one called Snowy, who was sitting on top of the bar, glared at him, tilting her head as if she were trying to read something written on the side of his head in very small print. He caught himself raising a hand to touch his neck and let it drop self-consciously back to his side.

“If you keep going like this, you might die,” she told him innocently. “Did you know that?”

The presence of the gun against his stomach, empty though it was, made his skin tingle. “I considered the possibility,” he said, and it was the honest truth. 

“When you die, will you go to paradise?”

“You’re too young to be thinking this much about blood and death.”

“I’ve seen death.” Her voice was without intonation, no defensiveness or accusation anywhere in her tone. She couldn’t have been any older than ten. “My mom died in front of me. She had a fever, but I stayed cold. That’s why they call me Snowy.” She paused, shrugged one shoulder. “Also because I can eat a whole mouse in one bite, like a snowy owl.”

“Oh,” Sacha said lamely. “I’m- I’m so sorry.”

She gave another shrug. “S’okay, I’m with the brood now and they take care of me just as good as mom would. I’m just saying, you don’t really seem like a guy who’s ready to die for anyone.”

Amongst all the riddles and nonsense, this at least was something he could understand. 

“I promise you, I am.”

Pajamas tugged at his sleeve. “Hey, hey Detective, have you ever been to Fun Town?”

He blinked, reeling from the non sequitur. “Excuse me?”

They pointed at the garish logo on their shirt. “‘Fun Town: It’s the funnest place on earth!’ Maybe your friends are there.”

“You’re not going to tell me I should just turn back now? That I’m dumb and the kids I’m looking for are gone forever?” he couldn’t help but snark.

“Don’t listen to Finch, she’s a liar. Nobody’s gone. Different, but not gone.”

Fun Town was an amusement park franchise with a handful of locations all over North America. Had been, that is. They’d had to shut down all their locations more than ten years ago, due in part to the outbreak at the time as well as some unsettling information about the eccentric late founder that came out after his death. Something about swaying elections and pouring company funds into an illicit genetic engineering project. Another day, another megalomaniac billionaire exposé. It had been big news at the time but now it was just another piece of pop culture trivia.

The Fun Town West fairgrounds were now little more than a fancy animatronics graveyard. The rides-- what of them hadn’t been torn down and picked clean by opportunistic scavengers-- were sparkling rusted monuments. Any sense of childhood wonder that remained had long since been siphoned off and sold. The kids didn’t seem to mind though, for how they’d congregated around the place. Maybe Pajamas had a point. It was a big, bright landmark, impossible to miss, and as good a place to search as any.

Three]

The Detective left Snowy and Pajamas and the other strange flock of The Love Nest behind, feeling a grim sense of determination The puckered bite mark on his hand throbbed; the little creep had managed to break skin! 

As he navigated his way to the outskirts of the district, Sacha mulled over the interactions he’d had so far. Reluctantly he pulled out his phone to take some notes, ignoring the voicemail notifications cluttering the screen.

The kids call themselves “brood”-- some sort of gang name? The younger ones and/or newcomers to their group seem to be called fledglings. Everyone has a nickname; real names and pictures of faces have some sort of negative significance. And what of the “songbirds”, “kestrels”, etc? Songbirds: spread information. Kestrels: Unknown.

He huffed. None of this was bringing him anywhere closer to the truth about the missing girls. None of it was helping him find Ana.

By the time he power-walked to the long neglected fairgrounds, the hazy sky was becoming downright dour. The clouds had turned the color of smoke. Combine that with the stench of burnt plastic wafting from some of the attractions, it made for an unpleasant effect. He felt that a storm was brewing, and hoped that whatever came he’d be able to find shelter before the sky opened up around him.

He’d been here only twice while it was still in operation; once just him and his parents and once with Maria. By the second visit he’d already lost his sense of wonderment when it came to a day at the fair. The weather was hot and the crowds were annoying and all the games were rigged. Yet there was still a part of him that felt deeply sad to see what Fun Town had become. This was the sort of place that should’ve been beautiful forever, even as the children grew up and out of their love for it.

As he wove through the rows of darkened kiosks, the fairgrounds suddenly erupted into light. Sacha startled and shielded his eyes. The tired bulbs cracked and fizzled and when he looked up again the desiccated corpse of Fun Town had been revived in a great pulse of electricity. Against the backdrop of perpetual gloom the friendly colors were all the more headache-inducing, and somewhere a tinny recording of calliope music began to play. It all made Sacha’s skin crawl.

Against his every instinct, he let the music lead him to a shack next to the arcade with a mounted loudspeaker, the door marked with a firm “employees only”. To his surprise, the door was unlocked. Inside, another brood girl in coveralls was fiddling with a fuse box and leaning her hip against a desk with an old CCTV. The security system was so antiquated that it didn’t look like it should turn on at all, yet there upon the pixelated screen Sacha could still make out the shape of himself entering the park on a loop. 

The girl turned around, flipping a frizzy head of hair over her shoulder. Although, it turned out she wasn’t so much a girl as a young woman, pushing against the line between teenage and adulthood. His gut reaction was relief. This might be the closest thing to a rational adult he would find around here. Hopefully she’d be of more help than the others.

Come to think of it, he realized, he’d never considered what happened to the Orphan’s Hollow kids once they grew up. Surely there must be some adults here, somewhere. But then, everyone who’d met him so far had treated him as a foreign invader. Were all adults so unwelcome, as he’d assumed, or was there something about him in particular? 

The most rational assumption was that the homeless kids simply became homeless adults. No need for any additional fanfare. They would graduate from the Hollows and go on to squat in other parts of the city. There was certainly no shortage of slums these days, he thought glumly.

Did any ex-runaways ever try to go home, those that still had them? Did that Renee ever think about home? 

“What ho, outsider!” the teen greeted. Sacha felt himself relax despite himself, so glad to be met with at least one friendly face.

“‘What ho’?” he parroted lamely.

“It’s theatre-speak for ‘wassup’. As in, what the hell are you doing in brood territory?”

She moved quickly. He didn’t notice the knife until it was tucked under his chin, pointed at his throat. 

Sacha’s back hit the wall and he put up his hands in surrender. “Hold on, I’m not looking for a fight.”

“Oh yeah?” she giggled. She wrenched up the front of his shirt. “What’s this then? A prop? If I shoot it, will a little flag come out that says ‘bang’?”

She un-holstered the pistol and pointed it at his forehead.

“That’s not a toy,” he said slowly. “Just a little insurance. Like your knife there, I’m sure. I don’t think either of us wants anybody to get hurt.”

“This?” She tossed it in the air and caught it. “Nah, this is part of the act. Tonight, I’m a knife thrower. I’ve never been a knife thrower before. I hope it goes well.”

Sacha tried to speak, but the girl pressed the cold flat of the blade to his lips.

“The older girls put on shows for the fledglings. Sometimes here in Fun Town, sometimes over in the Nest, or up on the rooftops when the weather is nice. I’d invite you, but I don’t think you’d be welcome.” She adjusted her grip again so that the knife was touching the tip of his nose. “All day there’ve been whispers about some kind of detective guy putting his nose in our business.”

“I don’t care about you brood kids do here.”

“Liar.”

“I swear, I don’t. I’m just trying to find someone. I’m not even a real detective anymore,” he confessed. “I wouldn’t tell anyone what you’re doing here. Even if I did, no one would believe me. I’m nobody.”

The knife thrower gave a big, hearty laugh, and Sacha’s throat tightened with fear. He didn’t consider himself a violent person, but over his career he’d come to blows with enough unruly targets and bitter clients alike that he knew when someone was posturing, and when someone was really out for blood. Normally there was a clear indicator of one kind or another; a tightening of the jaw, a certain nervous tick, a look in their eyes. 

But this girl he couldn’t get a read on at all. He hoped that meant she was still on the fence about the subject.

Struggling to keep his voice level he said, “You don’t have to do this. Something like this will haunt you your whole life, you know, and you’ve got so much life left. You’re still just a kid--”

She reared her hand back and struck at his head with the butt of the pistol. Sacha dodged. It slammed into the fuse box she’d been working on instead and the lights went out. Taking advantage of the darkness, he shoved past her and in a stroke of blind fortune found the door. There was a sound then, like the rush of wind in his ears. Then a sharp flash of pain as a flying knife split the cartilage of one ear.

He stumbled and hit the pavement. When Sacha turned around, hand clutched to his head, he saw the young woman’s silhouette bracketed by two iridescent black wings. Again that sound, ferocious wingbeats stirring the air. All he saw were two but it sounded like hundreds, a massive flock taking off in perfect synchronicity. 

“It’s really frustrating when people don’t take me seriously,” said the winged creature as she approached him. Maybe it was an effect of the many colored lights, but her skin appeared to have a glossy sheen to it, like an oil painting in motion. “But you look like you’re starting to get it now.”

“What the hell are you?” Sacha asked with a mix of horror and feverish reverence.

“What do you think I am?”

The thought came to him unbidden. It was an insane thought, one he didn’t even truly believe in, yet this was an insane situation. “The angel of death.”

That gave her pause. “You’re not right, but you’re not really wrong either I guess. Truth be told, I’m heaven on earth. Maybe I’ll cut you some slack if you worship me”

A wing brushed over his skin, however faintly, and it felt warm and real as the blood cooling on his skin. Not ethereal or dreamlike as he might’ve expected but so real, and all the more hideous for it. He shuddered and said nothing.

The false angel, this predatory animal, took a step back. She spun the pistol around one long finger until it slipped and fell to the ground. She looked at it for a moment, as if surprised.

“Huh. It was lighter than I expected,” she said. Then she kicked it aside. “You win this one I guess. I’ll let you go.”

He stared at her, mouth agape, sure it was some trick.

“What? You don’t believe me. I put it in fate’s hand, and for some reason it looks like fate wants to keep you alive a little longer. It’s not how I saw this going, but I can roll with some improv.” She put up her hands. “Don’t bother groveling. I won’t kill you even if you beg. I know guys like you love punishment. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

“Here… in Fun Town? Or, are you asking why I’m alive?”

She laughed. She so loved laughing. “Morbid! You’re morbid, man. I mean, why are you here among the brood? At… what do the outsiders call it? The Orphan Hole?” she snickered. “You kind of stick out like a sore thumb.”

“I’m trying to find someone,” Sacha repeated quietly. He’d said the line so many times he felt it was starting to lose its meaning. “And to make up for something I did.”

“Well you should’ve said so in the first place! If you’re looking to atone you need to meet with the broodmother. If you hurry, you might still be able to catch her. Tonight’s going to be kind of a crazy night once it kicks off, but if you plead your case I’m sure she’ll hear you out. 

“I have to keep setting up here. You go on ahead.” She pointed out in the direction he’d come from. “It’s a straight shot to Paradiso. You can tell her the angel of death sent you.”

She spared him one last smirk and then shot up into the air like an arrow loosed from a taut bowstring.

Or a bullet from a gun, even. Sacha considered the discarded pistol for a moment. It seemed so useless now, just a hunk of metal and plastic, just a prop. He walked away without it, pain pulsing dully from his ear. His journey was nearly over.

Time dragged on as he walked, but not enough for him to find the space to contend with what he’d seen. That girl, that creature. She was no angel, that much he was certain of. Angels didn’t attack strangers with a knife, he didn’t think. 

What he wasn’t certain of was… just about everything else. Was he meant to understand that all these girls, these brood, were some kind of bird-beasts taking human shape? Was everyone he’d met an imposter masquerading in the form of a child? Or did they start out as ordinary children and then transform somehow?

He half hated himself for even entertaining such wild ideas, but he had little other choice. “When you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth” wasn’t that so? In any case, speculation did him little good at this point. He could only hope that this paradise and “broodmother” the girl had spoken of could give him some answers.

Four]

Just when Sacha was beginning to wonder if the knife throwing angel imposter was fully fucking with him, he found his destination: The Paradiso Hotel, although the damaged neon sign now read only PRDIO. 

The building was tall and narrow, so wedged between its neighbors that it looked like any moment it might be crushed. The brickwork was crumbling as it was. Creeping plant life climbed the sides and snuck in through broken windows. The ominous, weathered shape of gargoyles watched from above, jutting strangely out of high corners. This place must have been in dire straits long before it had been taken over by the brood. At the same time, looking at it Sacha got the impression that it had been something glorious in its heyday. 

There was something almost inviting about the faint glow that came from the topmost windows, filtering pink light through heavy red curtains, and yet Sacha was terrified. His hands trembled on the railing as he climbed the winding stairway. 

The higher he went, the more his surroundings began to change. The carpet beneath his feet grew soft, damp, dipping slightly with his weight, and when he looked down he found it thick with patchy moss. Mushrooms sprouted from the junction where the floor met the wall. Sacha tore his foot from a tangle of roots he’d caught himself in and wondered, when was the last time he’d seen so much wild living plantlife in person? 

Finally he reached the top of the tower and opened the door not onto identical hallways and bland hotel decor, but onto a sprawling private library.

The detective could hardly see the walls for the shelves, lined top to bottom with books upon books upon books. There was a desk against the far wall piled high with precarious stacks of paper. They overflowed and spilled onto the loamy floor, whispering under his every step.

Beyond a towering skylight, storm clouds billowed, but that wasn’t of any concern to the flock of brood congregated in their wake. The scene looked like something rendered from stained glass, at least a dozen girls with wings of all colors stretched out and fluttering idly behind them as they sat around some sort of shrub or young sapling that was, quite impossibly, growing out of the floor. Its tender boughs bore tiny fruit, several perfectly round red orbs plump and shiny with juice.

The room smelled like a greenhouse, like heat and green growth, flowers and fruit. Intrigue drew Sacha nearer and he detected an undercurrent of something metallic as well. He rounded the desk and his stomach plummeted. The tree was not growing out of the floor. It was growing out of a human corpse nested in a bed of soil.

The Detective choked on a gasp and the brood children looked up. Their hands and knees were dark from their work. A flash of gore passed before Sacha’s eyes and he flinched, expecting to be struck down where he stood. When no killing blow came, morbid desire took hold of him and he took a second look. The tree was still there, and the body, but the body was not as he’d thought. It looked dry, mummified, more root than rot. Still staring, one of the brood girls plucked a berry and crushed it between her teeth. The smell intensified, iron and something sweet, heady as any wine.

One of the girl-beasts stood, and she seemed older than the rest somehow, not just in body but in her eyes, gray as the growing storm and so clear that Sacha feared if he looked too long he would fall through them. Her face was smooth and free of wrinkles or worry, but the long hair that fell about her shoulders was white as bone. She wore something like a shawl that hung lazily off her shoulders and down past her knees. Unlike the others, she had no wings.

“So you’re the one all my girls have been making such a fuss about,” she said, and her voice was a choir, her words an indictment.

Sacha felt a strange spike of anger at this creature that looked like a woman and talked like a mystic and was neither. “And you’re the broodmother, whatever that means! Your girls make you out to some kind of god. But you’re not a god, and you’re not their mother. I don’t know what you are and I don’t care. I just want to know why you’re doing this.”

“What am I doing?”

“You’re- you’re taking them!” he stammered furiously. The pieces were coming together, albeit in a hectic jumble. “All the missing girls! You abduct them, or call them to you, or something! It changes them!” He flung his hand out towards the body. “You’re a killer! You're some kind of crazy death cultist and you turn these kids into killers!”

The broodmother quirked her head to the side, not quite smiling. “You talk with a lot of confidence for a man with only half the story.”

“Then explain it to me,” he demanded. “Make it make sense. Because I’ve been running around this madhouse all day and so far, nothing does.”

She hummed to herself, considering. “If you’re so eager for a tale, let’s start with yours.”

One of the other little brood leapt up and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Is it time for a story, Nightingale?”

“Yes, I think so. Do you know which book to get?”

“D for Detective!” she cheered.

“Very good.” 

The girl scampered off and returned with a big book bound in red. Nightingale took it and ran her thumb over the pages, flipping it open with a calm certainty that boiled Sacha’s blood.

“Let’s see… Detective Sacha Ferro. You were born in this very city, had a fairly normal childhood until,” She traced the tip of her finger along the page and Sacha noticed for the first time how it curled, a ghastly hook-like talon. “Oh, that’s right. There was an accident. Your parents… Tragic. Just terrible.”

Astonishingly, she sounded as though she meant it.

“You were in high school at the time. But your sister, Maria, she was still just a kid. You always struggled to relate to her as a brother, with her being so much younger than you, but after that day you had to become like a parent too. You really stepped up, it looks like. That didn’t change the fact that you were still a kid yourself. You made mistakes, and the two of you grew apart.”

Shame curdled in Sacha’s gut. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. The most he was capable of was curling his hands into white-knuckled fists at his sides.

“Get out of my head.”

“I’m not in it. Frankly, I’m not that interested in your editorializing. This is the truth. Now, where was I?

“You’d always dreamed of being a police detective, like the ones on TV,” she continued. “But became disillusioned with the idea once you grew older. So you became a private eye, but that too got old. You were tired of acquiring blackmail material for shady characters and helping angry wives catch their cheating husbands and so on. Meanwhile little Maria had grown up and moved on and the neighborhood you’d lived in all your life was going more and more downhill by the year. You wanted out.

“Then you got a call from a Mrs Gloria Deeds.” Her eyes widened dramatically. “She wanted you to track down her poor missing daughter. The Deedses were wealthy, desperate, and just perfect. You requested an advance payment, a big one, big enough for a down payment on a new life and the gas to get you there. They didn’t even blink as they pulled out the checkbook. It was all so easy.

“You took the Deedses money and you ran away. Forget the kid, chances were she’d turn up on her own in a week or two after getting whatever rebellious phase out of her system. That’s not what happened though, is it? More and more girls started disappearing. Renee wasn’t the first though, or was she? Could she have been the catalyst for all this? You’d never know for certain. The wondering ate you up inside, but not enough to make you turn back.

“You got yourself a new apartment and a regular nine-to-five job. You quit smoking. You adopted a dog. You started letting people in. You even called up Maria begging to be a part of her life again and shockingly, she agreed! You started spending weekends with her and her wife Kara and their sweet little girl Ana. Your mother’s name, wasn’t it? Well, anyway.

“Everything was all going so terribly well until just a few days ago. Nearly five years on the dot since you took the Deeds case and Maria calls you in tears, tells you that Ana has gone missing. You drop the phone, your blood running cold. She’s fifteen. Just a year or two and she’d be out of the target demographic. Neither you or your sister has set foot in this city in years. What are the odds she got taken? But you can’t let it go until you know for sure.

“Feeling frantic, you pull up the stuff from the Deeds case for the first time in what feels like an eternity. You do some digging. Renee Deeds was never found, nor were any of the others who vanished after her. The cops are still as apathetic and incompetent as you left them. They’re blaming it all on an epidemic of gang activity stemming from somewhere the locals have started calling ‘Orphan’s Hollow’. It didn’t used to be called that though, did it? Do you remember? How gutted you were when you found out? No way you could tell Maria where you were going. Back home, back to where it all started.”

“Stop.” Sacha found his voice at last, though to what end?

Nightingale looked up at him, feigning shock. “But don’t you want to know how it ends? Whatever does happen to the guilt-ridden detective trying to right a wrong? Hoping against hope that if he can fulfill the promise he broke that all of this will be set to rights, and little Ana will return home with him safe and sound.”

“Please, please, stop.” He covered his ears and felt the cut throb against his fingers.

“You’re not really in any position to be making demands, Detective. You came to me. You followed my song. It doesn’t usually work on grown-ups, you know, but you were always sort of a special case I think. I’m glad I kept an eye on you. This has turned out more interesting than I thought.” 

She crossed the room to stand before him, cupping his hands with her own. “You never really stopped being that kid, did you Sacha? You run and run and just keep him right there, locked away in your chest. Look at me Sacha. Look at me. You need to be a grown-up now. I don’t have her, Sacha. I don’t have Ana.”

Slowly Sacha’s hands dropped to his sides, his eyes wide and wet. “What?”

“That’s right,” the broodmother said cheerily. “Ana isn’t here. In fact, she’s at home with her moms right now. Maria’s been trying to call you for days now. You were too ashamed to pick up, couldn’t tell her how this was all your fault. It’s not actually, by the way. You were a self-serving bastard, but not enough to bring down that kind of karmic wrath.

“Although I’d’ve been happy to have her, Ana already has two loving mothers, and an uncle that… has his moments.” She patted him on the shoulder. “The children who follow my song aren’t like that. They come willingly, and they change because change is what they need. I won’t pretend it’s not a messy process. Sometimes blood needs to be spilled to create a paradise. But ‘be not afraid’, Detective. I would never let my little angels get hurt.”

“I still don’t understand,” he all but wept. “What about Renee Deeds?”

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” Nightingale groaned. “‘What are you? What are you? Where’s the girl? Pow! Blam! I’m a big scary action hero and I’m here to save you or kill you trying!’” 

She shook her head. “You’re not the hero of this story, Detective. The girl you knew as Renee doesn’t exist anymore, but she’s alive, not because of your intervention, or lack thereof. Not even in spite of it. What am I? What is she? And what are we when we’re together? A thing that lives without your permission. You need to understand for it to be true.”

She looked at him then with all the sympathy of a mother comforting a crying child. She handed off the storybook to one of her young attendants, and as she turned around she swept aside the cover of her shawl to reveal her bare back. Her skin was twisted with badly healed scars, the flesh raised in the shape of two jagged cuts curving around the shape of her scapula.

“Here’s another story for you. Once upon a time,” she said. “A ship of men was cast from its course and lost at sea. Just when it seemed all hope was lost, they found themselves on the shores of a mysterious island full of the tallest, greenest trees they’d ever seen. The people there had wings like a bird, and they were so beautiful and kind that the men decided they must be angels, and this was paradise.

“The angels let them stay there a while and lick their wounds, but warned them that they couldn't remain forever. At first they accepted this, but as the time to leave for home grew nearer they became obsessed with the wonders of the island and couldn’t bear to go without taking a piece with them. 

“So enamoured by the beauty of the angels, yet fearing their heavenly wrath, they lured away the smallest one and imprisoned her in the lower decks of the ship. When she realized what had happened, she tried to escape, so they broke her wings until just moving them caused her horrible pain. She did get free in the end, but only once the ship returned to port and by then she was far, far from home and knew not how to find her way back. 

“She knew she wasn’t safe among the wingless people, so she hid herself away until nightfall, singing her song by the light of the moon in hopes that one day someone would return her call. When someone finally did, it wasn’t at all who she expected. It was a young human girl, a daughter of man, who recognized her song of pain and loneliness because these were things she knew well herself. When the angel and the girl finally found each other, the angel bid her to cut her useless wings and drink her blood, and together they escaped on new wings.”

As she spoke, the storm outside grew stronger until the wind rattled the very walls, knocking books loose from their shelves. The brood, with their many colored wings and many sweet voices, began to sing in wordless harmony, a hymn from such unfathomable depths and dizzying heights that Sacha’s legs nearly gave out beneath him. 

“Don’t be sad, my mourning dove. This is a happy story. The Nightingale fell in love with the Swiftlet, the song and the storm, and they carried each other to a place where they could make a new paradise, a garden of their own.”

That was when the ceiling began to cave in. Sacha fell to his knees and covered his head with his hands, blinded by what he was sure was a bolt of lightning. When he looks back on it later, he won’t be so sure.

Again came that sound, the torrent of wind and a hundred wings beating within it. Sacha forced himself to raise his head, squinting against the light, and there he saw dancing in the open air above the wreckage-- for dancing was the only way he could think to describe it-- a girl he once knew. Though they were less than strangers, especially now, he recognized her kind dark eyes, her secretive smile. 

Her hair was loose, a halo of electrified black curls, and her wings a dusky brown with the sharp, precise plumage of a swift. Her legs still didn’t move so freely as the rest of her, but she wasn’t bothered. She didn’t need them.

Nightingale ran and leapt and took her in her arms with a lover’s embrace. Off a ways behind them, their brood took flight as well, swooping and shrieking their delight as if they were a single entity, metamorphosing into something new, something so nearly divine.

Sacha did weep then. His vision blurred with the shape of his grief, then his longing, a child and a man and a hair’s width away from paradise. Eventually the storm subsided, but he didn’t see the angel and her love again after that. He thought perhaps that was for the better.

The sky cleared. The sun came out. Elsewhere, young girls planted gardens and played games and put on shows. The world went on, however changed.

This is where past and present collide. In the aftermath of a mystery, a man named Sacha Ferro picks up a book from in amidst the rubble and holds it up to the light. He flips to D for Detective and begins to read, anxious to find out what happens next.

Epilogue]

“Everyone settle down. Places! Starling, for the last time, ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ doesn’t call for a knife thrower.”

“And why not?” She wiggles the blade in her direction. “This show’s so boring. Everyone already knows how it goes. Let me spice it up a bit.”

Finch rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Just, don’t jump ahead of your cue this time. And stop making up extra lines. You almost blew it last time.”

Starling sticks her tongue out but she has a skip in her step when she returns backstage. On the other side of the curtain, the audience is starting to take their seats. There aren’t enough chairs-- and most of the “chairs” are actually old boxes and things to begin with-- so some of them have to stand. An older brood allows Pajamas to climb up onto her shoulders, reminding her to be mindful of her wings, which are still fairly fresh and tender where they join with her back.

“Greetings, Princess,” says the fortune teller Resplendent, dressed in her good theatre clothes, as she sits down beside her. “Who’s this?”

Princess Ladybird holds up the dented ornament head. “This is Jessika. The doctors managed to save her but she needs an emergency body transplant, stat! I’m going to find her a new one after the show.”

She nods. “Greetings, Lady Jessika. I hope you have a speedy recovery.”

Ladybird holds the doll head up to her ear and hums as if in response to something.

“Can I hear too?”

She obliges, and Resplendent listens. There’s a quiet buzzing from inside the hollow tin skull and it echoes hauntingly in the emptiness.

She whispers, “There’s a bug inside of Jessika’s brain keeping her alive. That’s why she can still talk without a body. If Jessika dies, the bug will get out. Ick!”

The other girl chuckles. “Your name is a kind of bug, you know.”

“No! It’s a bird! Lady-bird!”

She bites back another laugh and points towards the stage. “Shh, the show’s starting.”

Sure enough, the songbird choir starts up, bidding the chattering spectators to quiet down and listen up. A girl comes out on stage wearing a corner of the curtain as a makeshift hood. She says,

“It is dark inside a wolf’s belly.”

[eerythingisshaka]

On The Clock

[Yahya Abdul-Mateen II x Reader]

Word Count: 1.3k

You check yourself in the mirror as you hear your baby girl running in the background.

“MaMaMA!”  she babbles, clicking together two plastic blocks before finding you in the bathroom.

“What is it baby?  Mama’s trying to get dressed.”  Giving your hair a couple spritz of curl refresher, you look down at your doe eyed child.  Hair slicked into two chunky braided pig tails with bobbles  on the ends, chewing on her blocks while pounding the other against the wall.  She is one full year of feisty energy to do what she wants and a sprinkle of charm just to get her way.

Smiling at your baby, you lean over and whisper, “Where’s Daddy, huh?  Can you find Dada?”  

She lets out an ear shattering squeal and totters out to complete your mission.  You take a breath and smooth out your cold shoulder plum dress, hugging your full formed curves.  Excitement made your heart pound thinking about your Valentines date.  

You hold your breasts up a minute for comfort.  Weaning hasn't been easy on the baby or you, especially since your supply hasn't naturally dried just yet.  You feel like tonight will be safe though opting for a cuter bra over functional and go on to check once more that your black tights don’t have a run in them.

You grab your phone and open the camera up.

“Has your Mama sent you on a wild goose chase while she tries on her 5th dress in the last hour?”  You see Yahya standing with your baby in the background of your selfie.

“I needed just a few minutes to get this lewk for the gram, tuck and suck as much as I can.”  You take a couple selfies, catching the glow of your skin in the light, flipping your new wig this way and that.

The doorbell rings.  

“Finally!  I didn’t think she’d show up.”  Yahya sighs, walking himself and his daughter out to meet the evening’s sitter.  Baby girl drops a block along the way, smacking her papa in the face frustratedly with her free hand.

“Ouch, ow Leila!  Whatchu hurtin Daddy for, huh?  You need to be nicer.”

She whines in his ear, rubbing her eyes of sleep as he opens the door.

A young Black woman with locs pulled into a bun smiles.  “Are you Mr. Abdul-Mateen?”

“Hi, Tracey, and yes but don’t forget the II.  I’m kidding, but not for real.  I get it’s a mouthful though.”  Yahya joshes as he leads her in.  “You can leave your shoes at the front door and set your things anywhere.”

She sets her messenger bag down.  “And is this little Leila?”

Tracey waves at his baby with a big smile.  Leila bounces in his arms, rejuvenated by the new visitor and nuzzles her face in his shoulder.

“Aww, shy girl.”  

“Hell no.”  Yahya says bluntly.  “You’ll see 5 minutes after we leave, she’ll be running a gang affiliation out back if you don’t keep an eye out.”

You hear Tracey’s laughter as you come down the steps, checking the contents of your purse.

“Hello, Mrs. Abdul-Mateen!  You look BANGIN if that isn’t too strong to say.”

You pose by the end of the steps.  “Oh honey, I like a compliment like I like my coffee:  the stronger the better!”

You both share a laugh as Yahya walks Leila over to her play pen.

“You have our numbers so if you need anything, call us.  Anything in the fridge that looks like food, she will eat but we labelled her name on case.  Her bedtime is coming up though so maybe within the next hour and a half, take her butt down to the ground!”  Yahya taunts Leila with that last sentence and she seems to know exactly what he means.

“No!”

“Yes!”

“NO! NO! NO!”  Leila shouts over and over, bouncing on her little toes and clapping her hands.

You hiss at him.  “See, you rile her up and that’s why people almost thought we abducted our own child!  Shit!  I forgot my lipstick.”  You bound back up the steps again.

“You already got some on!  What do you need more for?”  He calls up.  “Tracey, you get acquainted with Leila, we’re almost outta here.”

You look over the bathroom sink to find you deep purple lippie that matches your dress.  “In case I need to reapply!”

Yahya leans in the doorway of the bathroom before walking behind you.  “We won’t be gone for that long.”

You touch up your lip one more time as he pushes your hair back, kissing on the back of your shoulder.

“AYE!  If you make me mess up, I will box your big head ass.  I want perfection on my face.” You warn, putting a cap on the lippie before placing it in your purse.

Yahya hugs up against you, wrapping his thick arms around your middle easily with a squeeze. "Aint I perfect for you?" He exhales in your ear, pushing his hips up in you.  “You might be right about needing that cuz I fully intend on kissing it right off your face.”  

You attempt to push his embrace away.  "Come on, you'll make my tummy control roll down."  

"You don't need that.  I told you already your body is gorgeous.  It made my baby girl, I'm proud of all you."  

You reach for your phone, opening the camera as you push your booty back against him.  “Oh really?”

He nods, smacking your hip as he hears the flash go off.  You bite back a smile, winking at catching him in a picture.  

“Take this one.”  Yahya palms one of your breasts in his hands before unfurling that God given tongue of his.  You can’t help but laugh as you snap the picture.  He is such a trip.

“Watch it!  I'm tender today.  And we won’t be out that long anyway, so don’t get your hopes up.”  You remind him as you gather yourself up again.

He looks at you confused.  “When is there not enough time for kissing, woman?’

“We got dinner, a movie, and 3 hours to do both.”  You drop your voice.  “I’m not tryna pay her over 3 hours Yahya.”

Yahya kisses his teeth.  “You actin like we can’t afford it.”

You stop short of heading downstairs, whispering again.  “So you WANT to pay for pussy, is what you’re saying?  You can have this pussy any time without a dime but you wanna pay extra to slam me somewhere other than the bedroom?  Baby just pay me directly next time if that’s the life you’re living.”

You and Yahya kiss Leila goodbye and give last minute instructions before heading out tonight.  The cool air hits your exposed areas quickly.  

“Unlock the door quick, QUICK!”  You pull at the handle, holding yourself together until the saving click let’s you in.  You slide into the seats, blasting the heat and turning on the seat warmer.  Yahya looks at you like a stranger as the car warms up.

“I told you you’re doing the most looking like you tryna catch and wind up with a cold.”

“Look, this my first night out since having Leila, I am showing off and showing out!”

“We been out before...”

“When your schedule allows and when a sitter in our area is available, the best we can do is lunch.  I want a paparazzi free meal that doesn’t come from craft services on a set or the snack bag of Leila’s.”

Yahya sits forward laying a hand on your knee.  “Aww baby, and you look good for it.  It’s just funny to me but I forget sometimes.  I wish we could stay out longer but my flight in the morning-”

You shrug.  “Make it up to me by pulling out of this driveway and making me feel like the baddest piece of ass you ever had.”

Yahya kisses you softly, putting his true emotion into the grip of your thigh.  He knew not to ruin your makeup.

“I ain’t got no problem with that.”

Part 2

[milkkygirls]

grease and grime. (sam winchester.)

request: Could you do a Sam Winchester fic when he’s in college? Like he went to college in Kansas and he works as a mechanic for his dad. The reader and Sam have been dating for years and One day the reader brings her car there to be repaired and her and Sam have like sexy, car greasy, sex on the work bench after hours or something like that? from: @thatsabummer02

warnings: female!reader, smut (oral m!recieving, penetration.) some dirty talk, language, me knowing absolutely nothing about cars to accurately talk about what’s going on before the ~smut~

word count: 1.6k

*gif is not mine, but edited by me*

SPRING BREAK, THE TIME OF YEAR WHERE STUDENTS ARE FREE FROM THEIR HELLISH STUDIES AND LET LOOSE. But here you were, stuck in a Lawrence, Kansas at you parents house with you piece of crap yellow Pinto that was at least a thousand years old. You came back from college for the week with your boyfriend, Sam, whom you’ve been dating since your freshman year of high school. You figured that since his dad and older brother were the way they were, your dear lover was probably trapped inside his father’s mechanic shop.

You wanted to drop by and visit, maybe even get your shitty car fixed for once. Sam was a law student just like you, but he sure did know a thing or two about vehicles. So with the screech of your tire and the boom of the exhaust you drove your squeaky and unpredictable car to the shop, only seeing one car in the lot: Sam’s. You pulled out your cellphone, dialing the number of your beloved and held the phone up to your ear, after four dial tones it answered.

“Hello? [Y/N]?” You heard him ask from the other end, the sound of machinery nearly muffling him. “Baby? I can barely hear you!” You yelled into the phone, covering your free ear until the sound of the machinery shut off. You sighed with relief. “Come outside.” You simply said, hanging up the phone before he could answer. You leaned against the Pinto patiently waiting, hearing as the mechanic garage’s panel door slid up, revealing the sweaty and grease covered body of your boyfriend clad in a tank top and blue jeans. Truly a sight to behold. Although he was absolutely filthy, you’d be lying if you said seeing him like that didn’t make warmth pool in your panties.

Sam came striding over, squinting to see, he smiled as he grew closer, nearly picking you up completely to kiss you. You pulled your sunglasses off to cut the interference between your eager kiss. Sam set you down, resting a hand on the roof of the car, towering over it. “What’s wrong with it now?” He questioned.

You sighed, crossing your arms, pushing up your breasts in your low-cut T-shirt in the process (something that didn’t go unnoticed by him). “Same as always.”

He nodded, doing his best to play off the blush on his cheeks to the heat, “Steer it on it, i’ll do what I can. But Dad or Dean will have to fix it.”

You gave him a motion with your hand as to say Roger That! And turned the Pinto back on cringing at the squeak it made when you pressed on the brakes as you drove it into the shop. You watched as the car’s hood was lifted, steam nearly choking the both of you.

Sam grabbed a rag, wiping away built up grease on parts of the car you couldn’t even begin to name; thank god for a mechanic savvy boyfriend. But one thing you noticed was how muscular Sam had gotten since spring break started, I mean, his back muscles were bulging out of his tank top with the slightest of movements. “Your engine’s busted, Babe.” He informed, wiping his hand on his forehead, smearing black oil on his skin.

You giggled, using your thumb to help wipe it away, standing on your tippy toes to reach the gentle giant. “This is nice.” You said, Sam raising an eyebrow, “Being stuck in a hot shop all day?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “No, dummy. Spending time together. We hardly get to do it because of college, but now you’re stuck here all day. I miss spending time with you.” You frowned at the last part, pulling him towards you and resting your head on his chest, listening to the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat.

“I know you’re trying to be sentimental, but I really miss the sex.” He sighed. He had a point, back at college when you two were stressed you let it all out, taking your stress and turning it into bliss. You looked up at him, resting your chin on his body, “Who says we still can’t have sex without the stress of exams.. I mean, I don’t see anyone around.” You smirked.

Sam cleared his throat, “You want to fuck in a mechanics garage?”

“Why not?”

“First of all, I’m disgusting, look at me.”

You bit your lip, trailing your fingers up and down his back, sending chills down his spine, “It’s kinda hot, Sammy. Why not get down and dirty while you’re literally dirty?”

Sam leaned down, capturing your lips, holding your face within his hands, “You’re a force to be reckoned with, woman.” You giggled once more, pulling him by his shirt to the bench in the corner, pushing him down and climbing on his lap. You kissed him hungrily, almost kneading on his abdomen, nibbling at his bottom lip.

“You’re so eager babygirl..” He breathed hands moving up to cup your breasts. “I missed you..” I was pathetic to you, how easily you were putty in Sam’s hands, how just with a couple of sly looks and you’d answer his every command. You found yourself instinctively grinding yourself against his hardening bulge, mewling out when your already sensitive core made contact from under your skirt.

Sam grabbed your face, not enough to hurt you, but enough to get you to look at him, oh how those hazel eyes swirled and danced with lust, “What else did you miss?”

You moaned when his hand met with your clothed core, pressing down on your clit. “Y-Your cock..” You admitted, feeling yourself getting wetter when he smirked, removing his hand from your pussy. “Show me how much you missed my cock then.”

You gave him a quick peck on the lips, removing yourself from his lap to sit on your knees, ignoring the pain from sitting directly on hard concrete floor. You raked your nails along his jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling them down his legs. You teasingly dragged a finger along his inner thighs, close to the bulge being constricted hy the grey boxers her wore. He shuddered at the feeling, at the feeling of having your hands and mouth so close to his cock but not doing anything.

He enjoyed it when you teased him though, making him more ready to fill you up to the brim. You kissed up his thighs, your mouth hoovering over his hard member, kissing it through his boxers. He groaned out, holding tightly onto the bench until his knuckles turned white. You smiled up at him, batting your long eyelashes until you hooked your index finger onto the elastic of the boxers, slowly pulling them down. The constricted and very hard member sprang free, slapping on the side of your cheek. You admired the way Sam looked from this point of view. His adam’s apple bobbing, muscles tensed, the veins under his well groomed happy trail throbbing. You grabbed his dick gently, slowly pumping your hand up his shaft. Sam closed his eyes, feeling the pleasure he had missed since spring break started.

You kissed the head, then licked a long stride up and giggling when Sam’s hand grabbed your hair, tugging at it. You knew you shouldn’t tease him any longer and give him what he wanted, he deserved it after all. You slipped his head into your mouth, rolling your tongue around it in a way that made him writhe, looking him in the eyes as you almost swallowed him whole, pumping your hand up and down to spread the warmth of your mouth that kissed his skin.

His head fell back, a guttural moan following its wake as he tugged harder on your hair, causing you to groan, the vibrations sending a delicious sensation straight to his dick. You continued to lick and suck, doing all the things you knew drove him crazy until he released in your mouth, seed oozing from the sides of your mouth.

You swallowed, wiping your cheeks with your thumb before popping it back in your mouth to swallow each and every drop of him. You crawled back on his lap, “Such a good girl, taking my cum like that, so hot.” You kissed him, him being the eager one this time.

Sam hiked your skirt up, the fabric bunching up around your abdomen. “You ready to take me?”

You nodded quickly, moving your lacy-white panties to the side, revealing your glistening cunt in the fluorescent light of the shop. He groaned at the sight of you, moving your hips to line up with him, sliding his head up and down your folds to gather the wetness before he pushed into you, eliciting the most dirty, borderline pornographic moan he’d ever heard come from that pretty little mouth of yours.

You adjusted to his size, almost crying out when he twitched inside you, moving yourself against him. You were both sweating, the wet sounds of him pushing in and out of you and the slapping of your ass on his thighs was absolute paradise. You rested your forehead against Sam’s, moaning out his name as you got closer, feeling the familiar sensation at the pit of your stomach every time he hit your g-spot. That sensation, the butterflies, the special flutter was worth it when you released messily on him, Sam finishing not long after you.

He pulled out, pulling you towards him in his lap, petting the hair that rested on your back and ignoring the goose skin he got from you kissing his neck. Sam had missed this, and so had you. And just maybe spring break wasn’t so boring after all.

—

author’s note; sorry it took so long babes!