#WHY IS NO ONE EVER IN FUCKIN SAFETY GEAR
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
me thinking about the air quality on Cybertronian ships because air is needed to make sound (it's more complicated than that but basically) so how are they talking if they don't have some kind of air control and what is the ratio between gases because it's pseudo canon that they don't breathe so the gas ratios shouldn't affect them and also how is it accounted for in stocking-
My brain at 4am : if cybertronians can mass shift to being closer to our size, does that mean that the minis can also become smaller ?????
ââââââââââââââââââââââââ
masterlist
#and don't get me started on energon being radioactive because wtfdym-#WHY IS NO ONE EVER IN FUCKIN SAFETY GEAR#i feel like Brian David Gilbert every time i start thinking abt the math science data of the TFverse#SO đđ» MANY đđ» OSHA đđ» VIOLATIONS#//#My life atm#transformers#transformers x reader#tf one#tfp megatron#tfp#maccadam#megatron#starscream#minicons#autobots#decepticons#the brainrot is real#relatable#tf memes#transfromers
37 notes
·
View notes
Note
I want more about tails getting spoiled by his siblings PLEASE
:]
sonic&shadow spoil him the most out of the four of them.
sonic because he knows how rough tails's life has been and he wants to make the rest it amazing because he deserves it
shadow because tails reminds him of a certain little girl he used to take care of </3
tails is a very touchy kid. he wants to homd hands, hug, snuggle, anything 24/7 and his siblings have just accepted their fates
amy goes out of her way to hug him. any chance she gets when they see each other, it's practically on sight with them n they battle to see who can squeeze harder (amy can, tho not by that much)
sonic's chill with all the hugging n stuff, but never initiates it himself unless tails really needs a hug from his big bro (he's more than happy to ruffle his bangs or give him a noogie tho :] that's his right as a big bro)
knuckles allows tails to climb around him like he's a fuckin jungle gym or smthn djdbsjns he also carries tails like a baby when he gets tired (he swears he's not soft)
shadow actually really enjoys tails's hugs n whatnot (cough maria cough) but he will never initiate it himself, he does pat tails's head when he wants to show he's proud of him for fixing omega or the dark rider
though sonic was very adament abt the amount of mints tails is allowed to have in a day, amy does not give a fuck
when tails is over at her house for binding time, she's making that kid every mint flavored treat she can think of/has ingredients for and you best believe that lil guy eats just about all of them (he leaves some for his big sister <3)
shadow let's him ride the dark rider with him, but he has to wear a helmet when he does
(tails argues that he's been through plenty of plane crashes and is perfectly okay, shadow says he's going to install safety gear in the tornado if the fox doesn't zip it)
due to the fact he thinks it isn't important, whenever tails actually falls asleep everyone does whatever they can to make sure he stays asleep
sonic'll either sit next to him or pull him on his chest because his heartbeat has always helped tails with sleeping (+a few other things, idk tails just really likes hearing his brother's heartbeat) if tails does stir at all, he'll rub the back of his ears to send him back to dreamland :]
since warmer areas tend to help keep the kit sleepin, amy'll grab a heater and point it at the fox to keep him nice and toasty <;3 stay asleep you little fuck
knuckles is gone, left to grab a blanket, a stuffed animal (even thought they're for BABIES (they're not, but tails is vry adament even though he keeps every single one he's given)), and any other one of tails's comfort items that are in a close proximity
shadow's putting headphones over his ears and turning on some white noise that is anything but a storm (or.. attempting. tails's ears are so big, it doesn't quite fit correctly)
ALL of them enforce work breaks and tails is not happy about it
he expected it from sonic and amy because they preach about how taking breaks is good for your mind, also you kinda need to eat to stay alive, and blah, blah, blah..
knuckles originally caught him off guard, but it made more sense once he started his whole "a strong warrior needs the proper rest" speech
he cannot for the life of him figure out why shadow of all people enforces it "you're no use if you work yourself to death" he says, but tails just knows that fucker is hiding something
(it takes him a while to understand people care about him so just.. give it a bit, it'll set it eventually)
god forbid tails says something even slightly self-deprecating because he'll get 4 different talks about how he's literally the coolest person ever, or he shouldn't push himself so hard, or he's doing the best he can and that's more than enough, or that he's just a kid who's given unrealistic expectations from society and he shouldn't force himself to live up to it, and yadda yadda
during autumn, they all burrow together because tails brought up the fact they were all burrowing animals and thought it'd be a cool bonding experience for the five of them (it happens yearly. way past cool, sonic approved typa thing)
he gets SO many cuddles when there's a lightning storm djdbsjns
they all let him go on his tech rambles for hours because they love seeing him be so happy and passionate abt something, also it's adorable how his tails wag so hard he lifts himself off the ground (his siblings usually have to hold his hand so he doesn't go too high)
if he's feeling lazy, amy'll carry him around ("he can walk, ames" "but he doesn't want to! sue me for keeping our little brother happy!")
these are all the ones i can think of atm, i just woke up so sorry if you were wanting more đ
i can totally add on later if you want !! :]
#his siblings spoil him practically every chance they get#they love their lil guy so much#in return: tails spoils them with any upgrades/gizmos they want#he builds with little to no questions asked#miles tails prower#tails the fox#sonic the hedgehog#sth#sonic#knuckles the echidna#amy rose#shadow the hedgehog#shadow the ultimate lifeform#myyhcs
96 notes
·
View notes
Text
Oh boy the trend of calling every anime girl drawn in the moe style "pedobait" regardless of canon age, character writing, or common fuckin sense does not bode well for my sanity or for the safety of lesbians (particularly trans ones) on the internet.
I know it's already been happening a lot but it's just so annoying and really grinding my gears now that I'm seeing how these fucking idiots just LOVE chilchuck, 40 year old shota extraordinaire, in contradiction with everything they ever say about every woman ever.
"hiroi kikuri is actually pedobait" do you hear yourselves. Are you just trying to make up a reason to be angry at lesbians and position man loving as morally superior. What am i saying of course they are. Why is chilchuck, genuine shota a-okay but a flat chested adult woman is something only pedophiles could love. Of course, it's because she's popular among trans lesbians and any opportunity to pedojacket them is an opportunity to be taken
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Every once in a while I talk to my dad about cops bc I've been slowly trying to radicalize him and not understanding ACAB is one of his last holdouts, well I have a new topic to research and if there's any truth to it I'm gonna be so shocked.
He spent his 20s living in one of the poorest areas of Toronto and he says that back then if police removed a homeless person from an area, they were not only to let them keep their tent and any other gear but also to give them a bus pass and some cash (which the city provided as part of the police dept's budget) to help them get set up somewhere else in the city (presumably somewhere less conspicuous?).
It's entirely possible he's either falling for some PR bullshit, misremembering shit that happened decades ago, or otherwise talking out of his ass, but I'll be digging around for a while to find out.
Now obviously still ACAB but like, if there's any truth to this claim at all then I can kinda understand why my own mindset is so alien to him. If that's what you remember from your 20s and you've been sitting first in an office and then the granny flat in his sibling's house he retired to without personally being at a major protest or anything, and only seeing what's on the (exceedinly biased) news, I can see why you'd think police brutality is its own thing as opposed to ALL policing being brutality.
Compensating them for having to relocate is a lot less than anyone hired by city govn't probably could or should do to help an unhoused person imho but it at least engaged with the framework that the homeless person is ALSO a community member and their safety is as much the job of police (on paper... we all know what they're really hired to do) as the safety of the people in the houses, which is something every interaction between police and unhoused people where I currently live actively rejects and denies.
It's degrading and offensive to ask someone to move solely because you either assume their presence is bothering others or because someone had the fuckin audacity to complain about them being there, but the fact that police usually destroy the unhoused person's property (including medical equipment!!) and oust them from a relatively safer location to an even more unsafe one when being homeless already makes a person so vulnerable is a big part of what makes it so heinous.
My opinion is and will remain that police protect the properth of the rich, not human life, and I will always oppose it on that basis. But was there ever a time when policing wasn't the job your high school bully gets so he can have entire demographics to torment with impunity?
6 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Words: 6,188 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan + flashbacks in other eras Warnings: language, fear and anxiety, mention of fear of heights Summary: Y/N and Daryl head out on the run for the requested medical supplies. Things are tense, but possibly about to get worse... This part is written in Daryl's POV!
Your name: submit What is this?
* * *
âI ainât waitinâ. I got a whiff of him and I gotta go before it disappears.â
âDaryl, are you sure about this?â Carol pressed him, creases from worry between her eyebrows. âAre you sure youâve really thought this through?â
âWhat is there to think through? If he finds her again, heâll kill her. And I ainât waitinâ around for that to happen.â The archer was a blur of activity, gathering his gear and shoving it into his pack.
âI think you need to talk to her about this,â Carol insisted, relinquishing her hold on his poncho somewhat unwillingly as Daryl pulled it from her hands.
He shook his head. âNah. Ya know sheâll want to be there and I canât risk thatâŠâ he trailed off. âI canât riskâcanât risk that.â
A thick silence stretched for a moment and Carol wrung her hands. âWell, what are you going to tell her?â
He paused, his hands on the clasp of his pack. âI ainât tellinâ her anythinâ. Iâll leave before its light tomorrow. By the time everyone is up, Iâll be gone.â
âWhat am I supposed to tell her then? When she inevitably asks?â Carol pressed him. âYou want me to lie to her too?â
âI ainât lyinâ,â Daryl snapped. ââM just notânot tellinâ her everythinâ. âM ending this so she can move on.â
Carolâs jaw tensed. âIt feels like a lie.â
âJust tell her I went north. To see what I could see. Lookinâ for supplies,â he drawled, setting his pack and crossbow on the ground beside his bed. âI donât know.â
Carol sighed heavily and shook her head as he straightened up. âI donât think this isââ
âLook, tell her whatever ya want. Just wait until âm gone. This is happeninâ. Itâll be done. Sâgonna be over with. For good.â
She shook her head and gave him a long look before crossing his cell and gently clasping his shoulder. âBe careful. I mean it,â she said, surrendering to the fact that there would be no changing his mind. He nodded, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth for a moment.
âI will.â
Carol gave him one last look full of anxiety and left him.
* * *
I hardly slept. Maybe caught 20 minutes here and 15 minutes there. Anxiety about the runâthatâs all it was. At least, thatâs what I kept tellinâ myself. Wanderinâ into a hospital was about the dumbest shit we could do. They always promised to be loaded with unexpected bullshit and floods of undead assholes. But lyinâ flat on my back in the dark, I knew deep down it had a helluva lot more to do with her than it had to do with the run. I was tryinâ to remember the last time Iâd spent more than ten minutes alone with her and it left me with a feelinâ like somebody had dropped a damn lead weight onto my chest. I turned over in bed in an attempt to throw it off, but it still sat there on my lungs. I knew exactly when weâd last been alone for longer than a few minutes. Of course I fuckinâ knew. It was burned into my goddamn memory.
But it wasnât doinâ me a lick of good to think on it so I pushed it away and waited for the clock beside me to read 5:15 before I climbed out of bed. My gear was all waitinâ ready, except for pickinâ up a gun on the way out. I half-expected to run into her in the armory, but it was dark and empty when I grabbed a handgun and some ammo. It felt like a lonely walk to Aaronâs, up the empty street, dew heavy on the grass, and my bootsteps echoing loudly off the dark rowsâa houses. I never feel right in here⊠with the square little lawns and lights on by the front doors. It just felt fake, like somebody had built paper houses and was planninâ to light âem up to burn any minute. I couldnât feel settled. I just felt⊠lost. Outta place. Like I didnât belong.
Iâd gotten rid of that feelinâ once⊠My mind drifted back to her like it always did. It was like I didnât have no damn control over my own mind. Sheâd been the one whoâd made me feel like I belonged. But now? Fuck. Iâm doinâ it again. Focus, dumbass.
She wasnât waitinâ by my bike either, so I rode up to the gate. As the lookout platform came into view, I caught sight of her climbing down, followed by Gabriel. Her pack was slung on her back, a shotgun hanging at her side and her favorite pistol in a holster on her thigh. I found myself chewing the inside of my cheek. Nerves. Anxiety. This was gonna be a long fuckinâ day.
âIâve got the gate,â Gabriel said, heading for the latch. She wandered over and I felt a jolt when she met my eyes. I nudged my nose up in a nod, but she just looked back at me with that same stony expression. Unreadable. It always seemed like I never saw her smile anymore. Maybe she did, just not around me. I got that blank look or a glare that I probably deservedâŠ
âWere ya on watch?â I asked, curious why she wouldnâta gotten rid of her shift in favor of sleep, knowing weâd be heading out on a run early.
âNo,â she said simply. No extra info. Typical. Why waste more on me when one word would do? She didnât owe me nothinâ. And she knew it. I swallowed my other questions and leaned forward on my bike so she could climb on. I felt her settle in behind me and glanced over my shoulder at her. She caught my eyes for a brief moment before looking away, down toward the ground. That was typical too. It was like she just couldnât look at me. Felt like somebody twisted a blade in my chest every time she dodged me like that. And yet I couldnât get enough of her, even if she was purposely a giant pain in the ass most of the damn time⊠I still felt like she was a mirage in a desert. A mouthful of cool water in a drought. Food for a starvinâ man.
Gabriel was waiting with the gate open, so I revved the bike to life again. Her arms wrapped around my waist to hold on and for a second I thought I felt her cheek press against the back of my shoulder, but I knew I must have imagined it. My heart was racing as we pulled out. I was more anxious than I had been all night. The thoughts rushing through my head moved so fast I couldnât even focus on any of them.
Gabriel yelled at us to be safe as we moved through, kickinâ dust up that left a glowing red cloud behind from the reflection of the taillights. The ride to the city was smooth. We made good time, luckily only passing lone walkers or small herds that were easy to avoid. Around the curves, for a brief moment, sheâd hold tighter to me and lean into the turns like Iâd taught her in what felt like another fuckinâ lifetime. Each corner I could feel every individual fingertip pressing into my waist or stomach. It was always followed by a sudden wash of heat like somebody had shoved me in a shower with the temperature all the way up. I couldnât control it. Didnât matter how hard I tried to ignore the feelinâ of being so damn close against each otherâŠ
I slowed down as we neared the hospital. Cars sat rusting in gridlocked traffic, tires long gone, frozen in timeâsame place they were when everythinâ shut the fuck down. I slowed my bike to roll over some debris and hit a chunk of concrete a little harder than I meant to. Her arms tightened around me reflexively at the jolt before loosening again the next second. My heart jolted at the same time. That feeling⊠of her clinging onto me for safetyâbut fuck. Letâs not make it out to be more than it is, dumbass. I turned toward my left shoulder. âSorry,â I murmured. She didnât say anything back, just shifted in her place behind me, puttinâ an inch more space back between us. The hospital came into view ahead, tall over everything else on the block.
She tapped my arm and I turned so I could hear her over the engine. âWe should park. Sound of the bike,â she said. I knew what she was thinkinâ. Any walkers or people anywhere around would hear us. I turned down a side street and parked in a loading dock bay. She climbed off about as damn fast as she could. Kicking the kickstand out and swinging my leg over, she was already walking back toward the corner of the building to look down the street.
âHold up,â I called after her. I still had to get my gear off the back. She either didnât hear me or didnât give a shit and I found myself gritting my teeth. But when I rushed around the corner, I nearly collided with her. She did wait. She was leaned up against the brick, her shotgun in her hands, staring ahead at the looming building.
She straightened up as I stopped beside her and we started windinâ our way down the last couple blocks, keepinâ to the shadows of the buildings, stayinâ in cover as best we could. Even so, I couldnât help glancinâ up at the endless windows, too many high points. All it would take is one asshole with a rifle and a scope... My hands started to sweat as I gripped my crossbow. I glanced at her, but she was as stony-faced as ever. âCâmon,â I said, quickening my stride. âI wanna get the hell off this street.â
I heard her let out a small scoff behind me. âYeah, youâre the only one worried about being out here,â she murmured. My teeth clenched again but I did my best to ignore it. There was no point gettinâ riled up this early in the day. We still had a lot of fuckinâ work to do. We reached a set of double doors on the side of the hospital, but one glance inside showed they were well barricaded. I stood there rubbing a hand over the stubble on my face. âSâtry the south door,â I drawled. To my surprise, she didnât argue. But that side was a fuckinâ bust too. âShit,â I spat out. There was a tall cabinet blocking the entrance.
âGood call,â she said sarcastically.
I shot her a glare. And this time when I bit my cheek, I tasted blood. âYa got a better fuckinâ idea? Huh?â I challenged her.
She rolled her eyes, studying the door for a moment. There was a large glass pane above it that was broken out and I saw her eyes lock in on it. âBoost me up there,â she said, inclining her chin to indicate the window.
Did she want to go in alone? Well, that sure as shit wasnât fuckinâ happeninâ. âLike hell,â I growled back. She rolled her eyes again.
âJust boost me through and Iâll get the door open. Iâll let you in.â
Now it was my turn to scoff. âYa gonna move that cabinet? By yerself?â I asked skeptically. The muscle in her jaw tensed.
âI donât have to move it far. Just enough to let you squeeze in. And you can help from the outside.â
I pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth. I didnât like the idea. I paced a tight circle, thinkinâ, as she shifted impatiently beside me. âWhat if ya get in there and there are walkers? Huh? We canât see shit down the hall.â
âIâll be quiet. Come on. We havenât got all fucking day and weâre sitting ducks out here. Unless youâve come up with something betterââ
I didnât like it, but she was right. Shit. âFine,â I interrupted. She leaned her shotgun up against the wall as I set my back against the door, fingers locked together and hands low at my bent knee. âCâmon. Gimme yer foot.â
She seemed to hesitate and I wondered if she was having second thoughts, but the next moment she stepped close in front of me and her hands came to my shoulders. âReady?â I asked. Her face was maybe six inches from mine, her hands light. I started to feel warm again, a flush of heat across the back of my neck that started spillinâ into my chest. I could see every fleck of color in her eyes, the upturned curve of her eyelashes, that little scar on her chin... Fuck. Focus.
âReady.â She planted her boot in my hands and I boosted her up so she could grab the window edge. The tinkling of glass dropping in was all I could hear for a moment, and then her weight disappeared from my hands. Spinning around, I watched her pull herself through onto the top of the cabinet. She stayed perched there for a moment, glancinâ behind her, scoutinâ the hallway, before she dropped to her feet lightly. She made it look easy. Graceful.
I couldnât stand still, constantly shifting my weight. I watched her face tighten as she wedged her shoulder into the cabinet, using all her weight, and it started to move at an angle away from the door. I pushed in with my shoulder from the outside and we finally had enough space for me to slip through. I passed her shotgun through first before turninâ sideways and slidinâ in. It was dark and completely silent except for the sound of our own breathinâ. It felt stuffy inside, and I could vaguely smell somethinâ sharp like animal piss and a sickeningly sweet smell. Death. Decay. I paused to draw the string on my crossbow back, cocking it ready to fire, a bolt nestled in the flight groove.
She pulled her flashlight out from the side pocket of her pack and clicked it on, shining it partially up the hallway ahead. âJesusâŠâ Her boots crunched over broken glass. She adjusted the shoulder strap of her shotgun, her eyes fixed down the hall, following the moving beam of her light. âThis place is a fucking wreck,â she whispered. In her distraction, her tone lacked the usual hostility or sarcasm.
âSomethinâ went down since we were last here,â I agreed. There was a lot more debris and furniture toppled over and strewn about. A lot of obstacles to a clean getaway if we had to make one. âLetâs just get this done and get the hell out.â
âWhat a unique ideaâŠâ she remarked over her shoulder. There it was. Damn sarcasm was back.
I couldnât help rolling my eyes and movinâ past her so I was in the lead. I knew it would annoy her, but I secretly wanted to be the one in the line of fire if somethinâ was crooked. I headed for the stairwell, pullinâ my own flashlight out and shininâ it inside before I tried the door. It looked clear. âUpper floors are more likely to have shit left. Letâs go.â
We moved in silence. I could feel her ghosting behind me the whole way, almost mimicking my movements. This was the first time the two of us had been alone on a run since⊠since I dun even know when. But despite it being so goddamn long, we werenât out of step. Once we started movinâ it was like no damn time had passed. We fell right back into our old rhythm. I knew her and she knew me. We worked well together when she put aside her need to argue with everythinâ I said. It still felt like we each knew what the other was thinkinâ. Not that I expected this run would magically make working together bearable again for good, or solve anything, but at least we could if we had to. I also now was realizinâ this whole thing was probably orchestrated by Rick. Did Denise really need the supplies? Sure. But did it have to be Y/N and I gettinâ âem? Alone? Fuck no. I dunno exactly what he was hopinâ for but Iâm pretty sure heâll be disappointedâŠ
Moving steadily upwards, we had most of the supplies on the list, plus plenty of extra finds, but I was growing more and more uneasy as we went on. We hadnât run into a single fucking walker yet, and to me that meant they were probably herded up in a massive hoard somewhere. It felt like a matter of time before we found them or they found us. I could sense Y/Nâs tension risinâ again too. She was more fidgety, more careful about each step she took. I found myself frequently sweeping my eyes back behind us to make sure nothinâ was lurking just outta the flashlight beams. There were the usual signs of walkers nearby; smears of blood on the floor and walls, that fuckinâ smell ya could never get outta yer nose, even chunks of flesh from the rottinâ fuckers. But we still hadnât seen one, and I was fuckinâ worried.
âAlmost got everything,â Y/N whispered to me, shoving a couple more bottles into her pack. âWe just need to find the CPAP machine,â she murmured, staring down at the list. âI donât have a fucking clue what the hell that looks like.â She glanced over at me, one of her eyebrows quirked in a question and I realized she was waitinâ for some kinda response.
âWhat? Yer lookinâ at me? I ainât got a goddamn clue what the hell that even is,â I said gruffly. Shit. I saw it. Just for a second, but one corner of her lips twitched up in a smile and I swear there was a spark in her eyesâlike the ones I used to see in her all the time. My heart jumped and I tried my best to ignore it. She seemed to turn away, hidinâ her face right as I was puzzlinâ over it.
âRight⊠well, letâs try down the hall. Thereâs probably another supply closet at the other end,â she said, nudging her head toward the darkness ahead.
We made our way cautiously. I pushed into the lead again and was surprised when she didnât argue. I tried every door handle but most of âem just led to empty or trashed patient rooms. I caught her frozen in the doorway of one that had a massive bloodstain on the floor and spatter partially up the walls. Her eyes were wide and vacant, and I wondered what she was reliving. âHey,â I said, just over her shoulder. She seemed to pull out of it abruptly and she turned away, moving on like nothinâ had happened. I let her go ahead, mainly so I could keep an eye on her for a minute and make sure she still had her head in the game, but I didnât need to worry. Not about that anyway. Sheâd always been tough. She wasnât shaken by shit easily. I knew that. And yet I still had this drive to want to protect her, even though she didnât need it from me. And she definitely didnât want it from me.
âHere,â she said suddenly, slinging her gun back on her shoulder and more fully opening the door to a small supply closet. There was hardly enough room for her to stand inside, so I posted up just behind her and strained my eyes and ears for anythinâ. âItâs all electronic stuff,â she whispered, entirely focused at the task at hand. Her hands floated from one device to the next, illuminated by her flashlight. She was looking for some label or model number or somethinâ to tell her what they were. She bent down and grabbed some scattered papers from among the boxes on the floor. Swearing under her breath she held one up to the flashlight. âOf course the cover and all the useful shit in the front is torn off,â she muttered. She was bending down to grab another handful when there was some sudden, deep noise on the floor above us.
My heart seemed to stall out for a moment and she straightened up and froze, her eyes lifted toward the ceiling, lips partially parted. The sound seemed to reverberate through the building. I could feel it beneath my feet. It resonated through the walls. After a moment, I was looking at her and she glanced over and met my eyes, her eyebrows a little furrowed with worry.
âWhat the fuck was that?â she asked in a harsh whisper. I only shook my head. She gulped and refocused, shakinâ it off, focusing back on the papers. She was flipping page after page, scanning them as fast as she could.
I started to hear some more noises above us and then eventually spilling toward the other end of the hall. My grip on my crossbow tightened. âWe need to move,â I said, keeping my voice low.
She was still intensely focused on the manual in her hands. âJust gimme a minuteâŠâ she said vaguely.
I shifted, turning more toward the far end of the hallway, straining my hearing. There was more clattering above us. âWe might not have another damn minute.â
âJustâhold onââ
Fuck. I stood frozen for a moment as a herd of walkers started to spill out from the stairwell at the other end of the hallway and start toward us. âWe ainât got a minute, Y/N!â I urged in a harsh whisper. She didnât seem to hear me.
There were more walkers than I could count. They hadnât spotted us yet but I had to move fast, so I did the only damn thing I could think of and pushed her forward into the closet, pressing in after her and shutting the door as quietly as I could. I instinctively clicked my flashlight off and hurried to grab hers and do the same, plunging the two of us into darkness in that small space.
âDaryl, what the hell?!â she snapped at me. Sheâd been so focused she was completely oblivious to the mass of dead wandering our way. The goddamn closet was so small I had no choice but to be pressed into her⊠My heart started to pound and I think it had more to do with her against me than the undead assholes outside. I was sure sheâd be able to feel it and prayed sheâd just think it was adrenaline or somethinâ. âWhat the fuck are you doing?!â
I shoved my hand over her mouth, all my patience gone. Did she really think Iâd shoved her in a closet for the hell of it? âFor once in yer goddamn life just shut up!â I growled in a low voice. She seemed to tense against me but in the quiet the sounds of the walkers outside the door were now easily heard above our ragged breathinâ and they were growing louder every second. I still had one hand over her mouth and the other clenching my crossbow at my side. She shifted against me and pulled my hand away. I could hear and feel her breathinâ pick up pace. I planted my palm on the wall behind her, next to her head, very aware of the growinâ heat pooling between the two of us where we were pressed together. The air felt suffocatinâ. I started to worry the walkers outside the door would be able to hear my breathinâ I was so nervous. I wanted to shift, move away from her like Iâm sure she wanted⊠I wanted to change positions and get my bow up, but it was impossible.
She didnât seem to know where to put her arms within the tight, dark space. I couldnât blame her. I was leaned in against her, sorta over her even. I felt her hand accidentally brush my arm and my body jolted a little at the contact, like some reflex I didnât know I had. My teeth ground together. After that she seemed to settle away from me, into the wall behind her.
We had to just stay there, fuckinâ frozen, hardly room to breathe while the hoard passed by. Every once and a while, a body would thump hard against the door and Iâd feel her flinch. I could feel sweat dripping down my neck and beading up on my face, my hair sticking to it. We were so close I could feel her breath against my skin when she faced toward me. I felt the rhythm of her breathinâ. And I couldnât ignore the fact that in that tiny ass closet, the only thing I could smell was the faint scent of her shampoo. I tried hard not to notice, but Iâd be lyinâ if I said I didnât try to put some name to the smell. Lavender? Not quite. Maybe more like rose? I dunno. And despite the possible death lurking just outside, I found it hard to focus on anythin' other than the feeling of her against me.
It felt like it took hours for the hoard to pass, but it was probably only ten minutes. But after the sounds drifted away we were still left with a big fuckinâ problem. They had to go somewhere, and my best guess was that they were travelinâ down.
It was so dark in there I couldnât even tell if my fuckinâ eyes were open or closed, and it seemed to be makinâ it hard to think⊠Or maybe the angle of her one hip pressed into me wasâfuck. Get it together, man⊠I fumbled for and clicked on my flashlight, findin' the two of us both wincin' at the sudden glare, noses almost touchin'. She was lookinâ up at me, her lips softly parted, her expression only full of concern for once, that little worry line she always gets near her eyebrow.
We both stayed like for a second. I guess just struck by actually seeinâ how close we were in the sudden light, until finally she tore her eyes away and turned her head.
I tried to clear my throat, worried my voice was gonna come out soundin' strained or somethinâ. âUhh⊠sounded like they were goinâââ
ââdown. Yeah,â she finished.
My eyes traced the angle of her jawline as she kept her face turned away from me. I heard the paper manual crinkle in her hand and groped for the doorknob behind me. âYeah,â I agreed quietly. âSo, we got a problem about gettinâ out.â My hand finally landed on the doorknob and I turned it and slowly opened the door on the hall, checking both directions carefully but also feelinâ like if I didnât put some damn space between the two of us again I was about to explode. It looked clear and I stepped out. Glancinâ back, she still seemed frozen, up against the wall, her face turned away toward her shoulder so I couldnât really get a read on her. âHey. What is it?â I prompted her.
âHmm?â She seemed to snap back to herself. âNânothingâŠâ She went back to searching the manual in her hand, like nothinâ had fuckinâ happened. Just one goddamn time Iâd like to know what the fuck is goinâ on inside her head⊠But I ainât got no right to that. Sheâs made that pretty fuckinâ clear.
It wasnât the right manual or the right machine. But she went through two more until she found it. âGot it,â she announced, waving the paper at me before shoving it into her already full duffel bag. She seized a small machine from the shelf and started trying to rearrange items to make it fit in her pack.
âI got room,â I said, still nervously checkinâ over my shoulder. I thought I could hear the hoard moving below us, maybe two floors down.
âItâs fine. I can make it fit,â she said, jostling more stuff in her bag.
I rolled my eyes and grabbed the damn thing from her, slinging my crossbow strap over my shoulder. âYaâd really rather split yer pack at the seams than take any fuckinâ help from me,â I murmured. I didnât wait for an answer. I didnât need oneâŠ
She stepped out of the closet and I caught her wiping her forearm across her forehead. It left a smear of dirt near her hairline. I had to pull myself back to the present. âSo, how are we getting out of here?â she asked, adjusting her pack and the duffel bag strap on her shoulder.
I glanced at her, knowing she wasnât gonna like my idea.
She rolled her eyes. âWell, youâve obviously got something. Just get on with it.â
âFire escape,â I said.
I watched the muscle in her jaw twitch as he jaw clenched. âFuckinâ greatâŠâ
âUnless ya got somethinâ elseââ
âYou know I donât,â she snapped back at me. She wiped a hand across her forehead again, swiping away fresh drops of sweat. âItâsââ She cut herself off. âLetâs just go,â she sighed, defeated.
I looked at her for a second more, trying to gauge just how freaked out she was, but it didnât seem to matter. We didnât have any other options.
âLetâs go,â she snapped again. âBefore I change my mind about being able to handle this.â
âIt ainâtââ
She squeezed her eyes shut and I watched her body tense. âI swear to god, Dixon, if you say âIt ainât that badâ or âIt ainât that highâ right now, I will lose my shit and attract every fucking walker in this goddamn building. I donât even give a fuck.â Her jaw muscle twitched.
I couldnât help letting out a sigh that was more of a growl than anything but then I turned and headed for the window a couple doors down that Iâd noticed was busted out. Leaning through, I scanned the outside of the building for a fire escape. Nothing on that side.
âItâs probably around the other side. Letâs try the end of the hall,â she suggested. Her boots stayed rooted to the floor and I glanced at her again. She caught my eyes and must have read the concern on my face.
âIâm fine. Youâre the last person I need worrying about me,â she growled.
Fuck. She could be infuriating⊠I found my hand clenching and unclenching a few times before I followed her back out of the room.
She was right. There was a fire escape down that side. I grabbed a piece of metal off the floor and straightened up. âYa ready?â I asked one more time. âThey might hear this glass break so we gotta fuckinâ move.â I thought her hands were a bit shaky.
âJust do it,â she said. And this time, I could hear the quiver in her voice.
I smashed the window and knocked out the glass before pullin' myself through. The metal grates rattled under my boots and she looked suddenly sick as she approached the window sill. I hesitated a second before reaching a hand out to help her through.
âIâm fine,â she said. She didnât look fine, but she gripped the ledge and climbed out. âOh, fuck. FuckâŠâ she muttered as her feet landed on the platform. She was keeping her eyes fixed straight out. Even just the metal grates at th prison used to freak her out, and that was one floor.
I wanted to comfort her but⊠I wasnât dumb enough to think itâd help or that she wanted me to, so instead I just started down the stairs at a good pace. She followed stiffly behind me, gripping onto the railing with white knuckles and falling behind.
Every once and a while Iâd glance back and she looked like she was about to be sick, but she was still following. We hit a snag as we reached the third-floor platform. A large part of it had rusted and fallen away, leaving a gaping hole we would have to edge around to reach the next set of stairs.
âOh, youâve gotta be fucking kidding me.â I heard her behind me and when I looked back her eyes were wide and round and she was clutching onto the railing like it was a lifeline.
âSâfine. Iâll cross first. Just keep overââ
âOh, really, Daryl? I should keep over to the side? You mean I should stay away from the huge fucking hole in the goddamn floor?â It kept drawing her eyes and Iâd see her rip them back up and away, reeling.
I knew that was mostly coming from the fact that she was fuckinâ terrified, but every harsh word from her still stung. âFine. Clearly, yer good,â I spat back. âYa donât need me and ya donât give a shit and yer fine. I fuckinâ got it.â So much for trying to calm her down. I edged past the hole in the metal grating and went down the next set of stairs. Finally, I just had to push down the ladder, climb down, and weâd be on solid ground again. But when I looked back up, she was still frozen where she had been, on the far side of the platform. I watched her for another minute, waiting to see if sheâd move. I knew she wasnât gonna ask for help, not from me, but she obviously needed it and tough shit, Iâm the only damn person here. I rubbed a hand across the back of my neck, anxious to even try again, and climbed back up. I edged past the rusted-out hole and stopped next to her. âJust gimme yer hand.â She didnât loosen her grip on the railing, and her eyes landed on my face. âSâfine. Just for two seconds, lemme fuckinâ help ya.â
Her chest was heaving with fearful breaths and I guess the idea of tryinâ to cross along that edge alone was worse than puttinâ her hand in mine. Part of me still thought sheâd take the heights over me, but she didnât⊠She pried her hand off the railing and placed it into mine. IâI canât say my heart didnât jump when my fingers closed around it. The motorcycle. The fuckinâ closet. Now this. Weâd hardly been within six feet of each other for years and now all this in one day⊠I felt dizzy. It ainât like Rick could have predicted these things would happen. He sure as shit couldnât command a hoard to force us into each other in a tiny closet⊠but he must have been hopinâ for somethinâ by sendinâ us out here. Was it gonna work on her? I fuckinâ doubt it.
As we stepped along the edge of the edge of the platform, she held her breath. She always seemed like nothing in this fucked up world scared her anymore, nothing phased her. Half the time it almost seemed like she didnât give a shit if she died. But this? Heights? This still scared her on some level she couldn't reason away.
But we made it across just fine. She was gripping onto me so tightly I thought she might have bruised the bones in my damn hand. And as we climbed down the next set of stairs, long past the danger, she was still holding onto me. But just as quickly as I realized it, she slipped her hand out and stiffened next to me again, fixing her eyes away toward the railing, which she grabbed onto again desperately.
We made it down the ladder, dropping onto the concrete and making a run back to my bike, slippin' from cover to cover, packs heavy and weighing us down. I was thinking how batshit crazy it was that weâd just done a hospital run and hadnât had to kill a single walker AND managed to get all the damn supplies... when we rounded the last corner and a string of curses left her mouth.
âYouâve gotta be fucking kidding me. What the fuck?!â She knelt down next to my bike and as I looked, my stomach dropped.
âSon of a fuckin' bitch.â Both tires on my motorcycle were slashed. Ruined. Fuck.
We were stranded in the city without a runninâ vehicle and somebody knew we were here.
#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon twd#the walking dead#twd fanfics#daryl dixon drabbles#daryl imagines#daryl x y/n#fanfics#writers of tumblr#twd drabbles
505 notes
·
View notes
Text
A/N: I would like to preface this by letting everyone know that I am in no way knowledgeable about actual science things. That being said I am amazed that in a random draw I actually managed to get a prompt that had to do with flowers lol. This is my contribution to the BakuHarem Collab! Please take a second to check out the other contributions here!
Warning: bad science, no protection, swearing, overs!mulation, accidental exhibti0som, intoxicated smut? idk sex pollen is a drug i guess.....
W/C: 3.5k
âBakugou, dude. We should not-â
âShut up Kirishima!â Bakugou walks through the sterile hallways checking every corner for signs of other people. âThat bitch took my top spot with some bullshit flowers?!â He finally gets to the lab that was granted to you for your research. After winning first place, stealing first place in the UA university science expo. He walks into the observing lobby, looking through the large window to make sure you werenât working in the lab after hours.
âJust keep quiet and listen for any one coming this way.â He walks over to the security door and holds his key card up to it, the light on the scanner turns green and he hears the dead bolt slide open.
Kirishima is lingering behind him, hovering in the doorway. He turns to Bakugou to talk him out of this again but his friend has already entered the lab. âAhh geez.â He didnât even wear any safety gear.
As the door clicks shut behind him, Bakugou stops to examine the lab. Several different species of flowers in full bloom behind temperature controlled enclosures. Some of them are recognizable; lavender, chamomile, and jasmine. âI thought it would smell like the perfume department, this fuckin place smells like heaven.â Guess it wasnât a new shampoo she was using then.
He walks through the aisles turning his head this way and that, trying to find something, anything that he can fuck up without it being overtly obvious. He gets to the back corner of the lab and sees a piece of familiar equipment. âPerfect.â
*****
âHe said WHAT?!â
Your roommate flinches at your reaction to her news. âHe told Professor Aizawa that your âViagra flowersâ are a joke to the science department and they should âwither and dieâ.â
Youâre fuming. That fuck tard Bakugou, mister my shit donât stink is ridiculing my research? âAll that man knows is how to blow shit up! Just cause I beat him in the expo this year, he thinks my research is a joke?!â You stand up from the couch, pacing in front of it and you canât decide whether to scream or cry. âWhy did I ever like that twat?â
Cause he has wide shoulders, big hands and scarlet eyes that -
âOh for the love of god shut up.â Screw your inner thoughts.
Ochako watches you pace, worrying in her eyes when yours line with silver and your neck flushes bright red. âIâm sorry, I shouldnât have told you that.â
You stop moving and look at her, guilt flooding through you as she slumps forward. âDonât apologize, I was talkin to myself babe.â She nods her head weakly and you stand up straight âIâm gonna go.â You walk to the door grabbing your coat and key card.
âW-where are you going?â Ochako follows you to the door and grabs your wrist gently. You turn to her and smile, she was always so sweet but you knew that if shit went down she would be right beside you, kicking ass.
âI need to blow off some steam, so Iâm gonna go check on my âViagra flowersâ.â She huffs a laugh and let's go.
âAlright, donât stay too late.â
You nod, put on your shoes and leave the dorm. Itâs a bit of a walk to the building the lab is in and hopefully the cool breeze will calm your mind.
*****
As you walk into the building you are grateful that your professor is more of a night owl than most students. Considering how many naps he takes during lectures it is no wonder he canât sleep at night. You contemplate going to his office to say hi but think better of it.
Donât wanna end up venting about Bakugou to my professor of all people.
You walk down the hallway and notice the door to your lab is cracked. Not unusual, a lot of students from your class have been coming and going to see the different species of flowers and plants you are growing. Assuming someone didnât shut the door behind them you take your phone out of your pocket to check the time. Out of the corner of your vision a quick flash of red and you walk right into Kirishima, Bakugouâs friend and one of your classmates.
âHey! How- how's it goin?â
You take a step back, rubbing your nose from face planting into his giant chest. Does this guy eat boulders for breakfast? âHey Kiri! Just gonna do some late night tests! You checkin out my garden?â
âYeah! Flowers are pretty.â He laughs, itâs high pitched and obviously forced.
You take in his nervous appearance, the fact that he is still standing in front of the door and your mood sours.
âWhere is he?â
Kirishima looks like he is gonna try and stall but one look at the fury in your eyes and his head hangs down. âHeâs in the lab,â you rush past him and punch in the code to open the door. âI tried to talk him out of it!â
The door clicks shut and the spiky blonde huffs in annoyance somewhere in the back of the lab.
âI told you shitty hair, if youâre gonna keep a look out you have to stand outside.â
You clear your throat and his head shoots up. You walk over to him, taking note of all of the plants and equipment, taking note of anything that looks different. As you get closer to him you notice that he smells particularly good tonight.
Keep it in your pants idiot
âReally Bakugou?â You stop a few steps away from him, noticing the various disassembled parts on the counter top behind him. âWhat were you gonna do, break my extraction equipment and make it look like a malfunction? Are you a B-Movie villain?â
He stands up and you are reminded of how small you feel next to him, wide shoulders, arms barely fitting the t-shirt he was wearing, strong chest that tapers to a toned waist. He laughs and you look at his face. What I wouldnât give to just lick from your navel to your neck.
âA B-Movie villain huh? Thatâs rich coming from the fanfiction clichĂ© scientist.â He crosses his arms, your eyes quickly dart to the sight of his biceps flexing with the movement then back at him.
âFanfiction clichĂ©? What the actual fuck are you talking about?â You take another step towards him, softly inhaling his scent. Why does he smell so good?
He laughs at you again, the sound caresses your skin and you realize your feeling very, very hot. You drag your fingers through your hair, your eyes zeroing in on a bead of sweat running down the side of his face. When you lick your lips and shift to take another step closer a small part of your brain connects the dots. âWhat. Did. You. Do?â
Bakugou looks at you, noticing your flushed cheeks and eyes that show you arenât quite your normal smart and sexy self. Reaching behind himself you hear the unmistakable sound of clinking glass, he grabs a beaker, an open beaker. âJust grabbed this from your equipment, I know how long it takes to extract this stuff. Would suck if it were to suddenly go missing.â
âYou idiot! Do you know how potent it is in that form?!â You reach for it but he pulls the beaker out of your reach. âWhy do you think I keep it enclosed? You have to close it up now!â
âWhy should I?â
Honestly how stupid can this guy get?!
âPut it back in the enclosure first and Iâll explain it to you!â Your breathing is getting heavy, the closer you get to Bakugou the hotter your body feels. You lunge for him again and trip, he hurries to put the beaker on the table behind him and catch you. Put off balance from the position you both crash to the floor with him underneath you. Sighing in frustration you lift yourself up only to bump your head on the table, knocking over the beaker and spilling the extract over you both.
âShit!â You scramble off of him and run to the door, pressing the exposure button and effectively locking it. You turn to Bakugou and back up trying your best to keep your distance. âStay on that side of the room, if weâre far enough apart the effects wonât be as bad.â
âWhat are the effects?â The question is spoken so calmly that you almost convince yourself he didnât speak at all.
âWhat are the fucking side effects!?â His shirt is soaked, sticking to his tanned skin. The outline of his chiseled body makes your mouth go dry. You look back at his face, his mouth twisted in frustration at your silence but no less attractive. The sharp angle of his jawline, pink lips slightly chapped, aristocratic nose, scarlet eyes that-
âTake a picture, it'll last longer.â Shaking your head to clear some of the fog in your brain, you focus on him again.
âItâs an aphrodisiac so obviously it enhances sexual desire.â
âYeah-yeah, sex pollen I get it. But what else?â he rings out the bottom of his shirt, lifting it slightly and you avert your eyes.
âIt is not sex pollen, I donât even use the pollen of the plant.â the last part coming out in a mumble. âThe aphrodisiac only works on people who are consenting adults that are attracted to each other.â You clear your throat.
Bakugou freezes for a moment and looks up at you, examining you. The flushed skin, short breaths, and how you keep as much distance between the two of you as the small lab provides.
âSo why are you so far away then?â The smirk on his face is sinful as all hell.
Cheeky bastard.
âSurely I donât have to spell it out for you.â Resisting the urge to turn your face away from him like a pouty child..
âHA!â The smug look on his face momentarily lifts the cloud of lust and replaces it with anger. âOf course youâre attracted to me, who wouldnât be?â
âWell, aren't you a cocky bastard?â Hoping you're not about to embarrass yourself you take a chance and muster up some courage. Slowly walking up to him you notice that his forehead is glistening with sweat, his breathing heavy, ears and back of his neck flushed with pink. âTell me, Katsuki. How are you feeling?â
A few steps and you can see his hands balled up in white knuckled fists, a few more his jaw clench and unclench. Once you are only an arms length away you can see him swallow harshly, Adam's apple bobbing, nostrils flaring. You push your breasts against his toned chest, the light friction causing a moan to escape your mouth, the sound going straight to his cock.
âIâm - Iâm fine.â Bakugou clears his throat, the sound of his first name from your lips sweeter than it should be.
âLookin a little flushed, you feeling hot?â
He doesnât answer, his attention captured by the closeness of your body, your lips, the tops of your breasts peeking out of the v neck top youâre wearing.. He stops breathing when your tongue flicks out to lick your bottom lip.
âCat got your tongue?â
On impulse his hands move to rest on your hips, eyes never leaving your lips. âWhat was the question again?â
âHow. Are. You. Feeling.â you walk your fingers up his chest with each word before pulling his head down so you can whisper in his ear, the anger fading fast. âKatsuki.â You hear him growl, the sound reverberating through your core, then you're being picked up.
âIâm gonna ruin you.â Bakugou crashes his lips to yours, pressing you up against one of the walls and bracing you with one hand so that the other can wrap around your throat. âFuck, you drive me crazy.â He bites your lip, licking it to soothe the hurt. âSmart, funny, sexy, beautiful.â
You whine at the words and grind against the bulge in his pants, your pussy throbbing with need. âNeed to feel you touch me Bakugou.â He stops moving and you shift to try and grind against him again but he holds you tight, slightly squeezing the sides of your neck.
âWhat happened to calling me by my first name, baby girl?â Loosening his hand and crouching down as if to put you down you sputter out âKat-Katsuki Please touch me.â
The feral grin on his face has your pussy drooling and you all but sigh in relief when he stands up straight and slips a hand under your shirt, cupping one of your breasts. âOh god yes.â
âYouâre so soft baby,â he pulls one of the cups down and rolls your nipple in between his fingers. âTake off your shirt, wanna see those pretty tits.â
Katsuki keeps playing with your nipple when you rip your shirt off, making short work of your bra and tossing it. As soon as the other nipple is in view he dives down to suckle it, his mouth hot. You throw your head back, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pushing your chest out to give him better access.
He is merciless in his teasing, alternating between breasts, making sure to suck each nipple till they are both hard peaks. Kissing the top of your soft globes, your collarbone and neck, everywhere his mouth goes is left with a mark in varying shades of red and purple.
You grow impatient with him, needing to make him feel as good wanting to feel him with your hands, mouth, teeth.
âWanna feel you too Katsuki.â you whine as he pinches one nipple while nibbling the other one. When you pull on his hair a little he groans but lifts his head, pulling both nipples with him before letting them go.
âWhat do ya wanna feel, baby girl?â
With all your inhibitions throw out the window you lean down and whisper in his ear. âWanna feel you fuck me.â
You pull away and he quickly sets you down, youâre about to object when he takes his shirt off in one smooth motion then starts unbuttoning his jeans. You rush to follow, unzipping your pants and pulling them down, before you can pull down your panties he grabs your hand stopping you. âLeave âm on.â
Katsuki picks you up again before you can get a good look at his cock, but when it's pressed against you there is no need to see it. âFuck youâre huge.â
He smirks at you, smug pride in his eyes. âGlad you approve.â Reaching a hand down he pulls your panties to the side and runs his fingers through your wet folds. âThis all for me?â bringing his fingers up to show you the slick dripping down them he puts them in his mouth and sucks. âGonna have to enjoy that tasty treat later.â
Your body is burning up, breathing is heavy as you both watch him drag his cock along your wet slit before pushing in. Your moans echo in the lab and neither one of you cares as Katsuki's cock drags against your inner walls until bottoming out. Right now is not the time for slow strokes, not with the aphrodisiac flowing through both of your bodies, so he starts a pace that has your ass slapping against his thighs.
âC-cumming!â You scream out before your body bows in on itself and you're creaming around his cock.
âAlready?â a sideways grin on his face Katsuki starts moving you up and down in time with his thrusts, his cock reaching that much deeper. âGonna cum for me again? Come on baby, wanna feel you milk my cock.â
Your mind is going blank, the only thing running through it is Katsuki. âPlease donât stop,â you dig your nails into his shoulders. âM Gonna cum again.â His thrusts go shallow and the head of his cock drags against your walls, hitting all the right spots.
Youâre repeating his name endlessly, the only word that is in your mind then youâre cumming again. Your legs tense around his waist and your pussy clenches down hard enough that he has to stop moving or risk hurting you. He watches your face contorted in pleasure and starts thrusting as soon as he feels your orgasm subside.
âOne more.â
Your head fuzzy, body limp from two orgasms. âI canât!â
âWrong,â Katsuki pulls out for a second, setting you on the floor and pushing on your back. You obediently bend forward grabbing the edge of the counter top and he wastes no time in rutting back into you. âYou want me to stop?â
âNOâ
âThen you got one more beautiful thing.â He sticks two fingers in his mouth, getting them wet then reaches around rubbing soft circles on your puffy clit. His other hand gripping your hip, before moving up and grabbing your shoulder using it as leverage to fuck into you harder.
âCome on, cum for me.â
You turn your head to the side trying your best to look in his eyes, yours tearing up at the overstimulation. âYou cum too, fill me up Katsuki.â
âOh fuck yeah.â Bending his knees he thrusts up into you and with the new angle, teasing circles being rubbed on your clit and the feral moans coming out of his mouth you cum one last time.
Fuckfuckfuckfuck
Katsuki cums after you, rope after rope of cum coating your fluttering walls.
You both stand there catching your breath. Katsuki pulls out and you whimper, âOh donât worry beautiful,â he picks you up again, walks over to a chair and sits down with you in his lap ânot done with you yet.â
By the time you are spent both of you are exhausted and lost track of how many times either of you came. He helps you stand up, quickly pulling your panties back in place. âDonât want you leakin.â
You giggle and pick up your clothes from the floor, he helps you get dressed and you both walk to the door. Making sure to check the air quality before leaving the lab you confirm that nothing is left in the air and unlock it. Before opening the door you turn to him opening your mouth to ask a question but he talks first.
âLet's go back to my room, yeah? Iâll help you clean up.â His voice rough from moaning and growling but you can see a small smile on his lips. Even though you know that the effects of the extract have worn off you canât help but worry that he is still under their influence. Nodding your head you turn away from him again and open the door, walking into the lobby.
âI assume you're finished with the lab?â
You stop dead in your tracks, Katsuki bumping into you. âP-professor Aizawa?â Red hair peeks out behind him and Kirishima looks at you both with a nervous sharp toothed smile and red face. The fog of your memory clears and you vaguely remember hearing knocking on the window and door while you were⊠indisposed.
Katsuki steps in front of you, from the lack of red on his face or neck you know he isnât nearly as mortified as you. âHow long have you been standing there?â
The tired eyes of your teacher examine both of you. âLong enough.â He sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. âYou are both to meet me in my office tomorrow morning.â
And just before you canât get anymore embarrassed he walks out and says over his shoulder. âThe labs arenât sound proof, and these walls echo.â
@doinmybesthere @patchworkpuzzle @eyebagsbutglam @sugarspiceanddynamight
#bnharem collab#katsuki bakugou#bakugou katsuki#bnha katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki x y/n#katsuki x reader#katsuki x you#bakugo x y/n#bakugo katuski x reader#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x reader#bakugo mha#bakugo katsuki#bakugou x you#lilliths masterlist#lillith writes
488 notes
·
View notes
Text
Liquor and Cigarettes
Fandom: Breaking Bad
TW: Passing out due to hunger, possible disordered eating habits, mention of drug and alcohol abuse, mention of m*rder
*Takes place early season 4: Spoilers for everything up to that point.
Jesse Pinkman didnât take care of himself very well.
It wasnât much of a secret, even before his and Mr. Whiteâs partnership had gotten far bigger than the two of them could ever imagine, Jesse wasnât the type to make weekly runs to the grocery store. Not even monthly runs, for that matter. At any given time, the most he had in his fridge was a couple beers and a package of hot pockets. Anything quick, anything that didnât involve any actual cooking.
Not too long ago heâd tried to make an effort. But that was before things changed.
Before too many people had died.
Now, it was rare if Jesse found the time to eat more than one meal a day.
Between running the lab, working with Badger and Skinny Pete on their side hustle, and spending his nights willing himself to sleep instead of staying awake and thinking, Jesse reserved any spare seconds he got for a quick rinse in the shower or a quiet moment outside with a cigarette.
And today, he was bearing the consequences of his bad habits.
He woke up feeling like shit. Heâd drank a bit too much last night, and woke up an hour later than he should have with a bitch of a headache. And if Gus didnât have his ass for showing up late, Mr. White sure would. He was out the door in seconds, and as he walked into the Laundry, he swore he could feel every eye in the place on him. As if every single person was one of the cameras Gus kept in the lab, just staring, judging, thinking.
âWhere the hell have you been?â Jesse rolled his eyes at Mr. Whiteâs greeting as he shut the door to the lab, the older man staring up at him in his safety gear. He was in the middle of a cook, and just like the camera, his eyes followed Jesse as he stomped down the metal staircase.
âSorry, I slept in, jeez. Donât get your panties in a twist about it.â He tried to brush off as he headed for the lockers to get his own safety gear. Mr. White tailed him, matching his pace and taking his ventilator mask off just so he could clearly chew Jesse out.
âDonât get my- Jesse, you do realize you canât just sleep in and stroll in late like you did in my class, do you? Because there are no warnings or write-ups in our situation, instead Gus is going to-â
âSlit my throat and have you shove me in a barrel? Yah, got that loud and clear.â He slammed the locker door shut and set his goggles atop his head. âLook, I know youâre like, tweakin-out-kinda-paranoid about Gus or whatever, but if youâre so worried about it, then how âbout we just get to the fuckinâ cook, huh?â He snapped, shoving his arms into the yellow suit and zipping it up.
âYes, I just need to know that this wonât happen again. Thereâs a reason youâre here and not Gale, I need you to make sure Gus knows why.â
Jesse felt sick to his stomach. Forgetting about Gale was what heâd spent his drinks on last night, and Mr. White had just undone all that hard work.
ââŠSure.â
Walter took that as an acceptable answer, and as soon as Jesse was suited up, they got to work.
Mr. White was just about to finish the batch heâd started earlier this morning, and he proposed that they cook two more today to stay on-schedule. Jesse groaned internally, heâd only been here for a few minutes but he already wanted to lie down. He didnât know why he was so tired, heâd passed out early enough that heâd gotten enough sleep. At least, he thought he did. This felt like more than being tired, though. His head was still pounding behind his eyes, and he found himself out of breath whenever he had to run between stations or lift something heavy. Mr. White spared him a glance every now and again when he paused to take a breather, but other than that, they worked in silent synchronicity.
The real problems only arose later in the day.
Theyâd just finished their second batch, and Mr. White was prepping for the next one while Jesse broke up the glass. Heâd done it a hundred times before, it was the easiest part of any cook, but for some reason each time he cracked down on the tray and heard the crystal shatter and splinter, it seemed to go right to his head, pain shooting through with every crack that was made. It got to the point where the pounding was non-stop, and Jesse had to pause, set down his tool, and put his head in his hands.
The lack of movement made Mr. White turn and look.
âJesse? Is something wrong with the product?â
Jesse didnât respond.
âJesse, is something wrong?â Mr. White repeated, setting down his own work to walk over. Hearing his name and the footsteps coming closer was enough to make Jesse lift his head, but that was as far as he got before his eyes rolled back in his head and he swayed backwards, collapsing in a heap on the floor. Heâd taken the tray down with him too, the product shattering and scattering across the floor around Jesse.
Walter looked at the camera before rushing to check on Jesse.
âJesse! Christ, wake up!â He tried immediately, his mind flooding with ideas of what could have caused this. Was he using again? Was Jesse exposed to a chemical leak in the lab? He contemplated that option for a moment before opting to pull off Jesseâs mask and hood to make sure he was still breathing.
He was, but as soon as his face was uncovered, Walter finally noticed something just as worrying.
He hadnât seen it when heâd walked in, but Jesse was pale. White as a sheet pale, which contrasted horribly with the dark bags under his eyes. He looked like a corpse, and when Walter checked his pulse to assure himself that wasnât the case, he was surprised to find that Jesse was cold and clammy. Either he was using again, or there was something else very, very wrong with him.
Walter got up and looked around frantically for a moment before grabbing Jesse under his arms and dragging him over to one of the labâs chairs. As he hoisted the kid into the seat, something else became very apparent.
Jesse was light.
That fact stuck in Walterâs mind as he rushed to fill a water bottle, keeping his partner in his line of sight as he did. Jesse had always been scrawny, but to that extent? It just didnât sit right with him.
Setting the water bottle down on the worktable, Walt weighed his options before grabbing Jesseâs shoulders and trying to shake him awake. Jesse groaned in response, and that earned him another firm shake. âJesse, get up! You need to tell me whatâs wrong.â He implored, giving him one final shake. Jesseâs eyes fluttered open, and with a strained noise he feebly tried to push Walterâs hands off of him, but his muscles felt so heavy that he could hardly lift his arms.
ââŠDude, what the hell are you doinââŠâ
âWhat the hell am I doing? You passed out! So do you mind explaining to me why that happened? Did you overdose, are you sick, what was that?â He rambled, sounding more frantic than worried as Jesse tried to get his bearings and focus on what Mr. White was saying. He only caught a few words, but he was able to respond.
âOverdose? Iâm⊠clean Mr. White, only thing Iâve been doinâ is liquor and cigarettes.â It took all his brainpower to form that sentence, and as he started to fully regain consciousness, his headache came back full-swing, and he pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes. Jesus, he wished he had stayed out.
âRight, then what did you eat last?â
ââŠLiquor and cigarettesâŠâ
âJesus, Jesse, thatâs not food. I mean when did you last eat a real meal?â
Jesse was silent for a moment, thinking hard about the answer to that question. His stomach didnât have to think at all however, because before any silence could stretch between the two men, his stomach growled emptily, painfully. Jesse only grunted and wrapped his arms around his middle, far too tired and in pain to be any kind of embarrassed for something as dumb as forgetting to eat.
âI donât remember.â
âThatâs not good, Jesse. Youâre a millionaire, for Godâs sake, why arenât you eating?â Mr. White asked as he handed the water bottle to Jesse, who stared at it for a moment before taking a few slow, careful sips.
âI dunno dude, I just- everythingâs harder now, yâknow?â He began, trying to organize his thoughts. âThereâs so much I have to do⊠And it doesnât fuckinâ feel right doinâ any of itâ The cold water hit his stomach and made it churn and ache uncomfortably, but now he wasnât sure if it was because he was starving or because of, everything else again.
âI, canât say I know the feeling, Jesse. But regardless of any of that, you still need to eat.â
âI know, Jesus, stop using your weird dad tone.â Jesse took another gulp of water, the liquid going down as hard as if heâd taken a shot. âI donât just mean working has gotten harder. I mean that with Gus breathing down my fucking neck and, what I did to Gale, Iâve been worrying more about that than any other bullshit, I guess.â He explained. He didnât want to admit how he felt about Gale, it was a âhim or meâ situation, after all. Heâd be dead if Gale wasnât.
At least, thatâs what Walter had told him.
ââŠI see. This work gets to you, I know. Gale was a good man, I know that better than anyone.â Mr. White attempted to console, placing an uneasy hand on Jesseâs shoulder. Jesse tensed up. âBut you lose people, and you move on. Thatâs just how things work, Jesse.â
The younger man only nodded. His head was full of all the things he could say to that, he could say that it âwasnât that easy,â or âyouâve never lost anyone.â
But he didnât.
âRight. Now, after weâre done cooking Iâll treat you to lunch. We still need to finish this batch and make up for the product we just lost. You feel well enough to cook?â He asked, already back in the working mood as if Jesse hadnât just passed out.
âYeah, just give me a minute.â
#my first fic since ive been back in school I think#I donât know how many of my followers have actually watched breaking bad but I had fun writing this!!#i finished it on my train ride back to school and my hesrt is still pounding as im uploading this bc I almost missed my next train#anyways hope you enjoy#this is more whump than hunger#but the whump is caused by the hunger so it checks out#hungry#sfw hunger kink#breaking bad#stomach growling#tummy noises#jesse pinkman
50 notes
·
View notes
Text
Midnight Train
Dabi x Fem!Reader
cw: smut 18+ minors DNI, chikan, dubcon/noncon, pet names, pervy dabi
You stood in the train station, feeling a bit out of place. Looking around at your surroundings, and wondering when your train was going to arrive. It was running a little too late for your liking. Not to mention the fact that it was late, and cold, you didnât even have a coat. You were wearing a long sleeved shirt, a short black skirt, and matching thigh highs with some simple school girl like shoes. Which was kind of ironic for you to wear. At the moment, you were currently in your second year of university. Just coming back from an outing with your friends, and cutting it off early because you had work the next morning. You were always overly cautious anywhere near trains, just due to the nature of pervy men, and the amount of times youâve had experiences with them. Not even to mention how intense it is around this area. You berated yourself internally for deciding to wear something like this out, but now you had no choice but to just try and deal with it for now.
Absent-mindedly you scrolled on your phone, to give you some sort of distraction from the anxiety you felt beginning to stir in your stomach, tightening your thighs together, and keeping your purse close to your body. Then soon, the sounds of a fast moving vehicle, and wheels breaking to a halt brought you out from beneath your phones gaze. Looking up to greet the train. You patiently waited until itâs gears locked into place, and the doors opened. Waiting until the small crowd of people walked out of the cart, and then following into it. The cart was decently full of people. But to your absolute demise, there was some substance on some of the seats that looked like a spilled milk tea boba. Which was why you had to stand. Opting for the back of the cart that had some people also standing around. One of them meeting your gaze. Hooded, cerulean eyes following behind you, as you reached your spot to stand. He mustâve got on with me, you thought to yourself. The person was a bit of distant from you, staring at you without remorse. It was hard to make out their features with the large hood they wore over their head, and it made you anxious. Holding your body closer to itself.
He was looking at you like a predator stalking prey, hungry, and ready to devour. A look that quite honestly was making your heart absolutely flutter against your rib cage. Then you did something kind of stupid, pulling out your phone again, and trying to focus all of your attention on it. Trying to pay the hooded man no attention, out of your peripherals, you saw him lift his hood back. But again, you were too scared to see what he looked like. No matter how intense your curiosity was. After a short while into the trip following that, you checked again to see if he was there, and surprisingly he wasnât.Â
Thatâs when you froze, instantly recognizing the feeling of someone standing just behind you. Too scared to gaze behind you, and the train suddenly causing the cart to jolt, your body mushed right against his, as your wobbly knees made you unstable on your feet. Perfect timing.
âS-Sorry!â you cried out, lurching yourself forward. His body following yours.
âItâs quite alright, doll face.â a husky voice whispered behind you. âI like your skirt, itâs cute on you.â
You didnât respond to this, your blood was running cold, and your breath hitched inside of your throat. He made it a point to step closer to you, the heat radiating off of him was almost too much. The stranger was only an inch or so from touching your body, a hand reached to you hair, tucking it to the side as he leaned in. Body flush with yours, as he whispered to you. âItâs not nice to ignore people when they compliment you.â
âIâm s-sorry.â
âIs that all you know how to say?â
âI-Iâm sorry Iâm not trying to offend you--â
âOh baby, you already did though. You hurt me real bad. Donât you think I deserve something for my bleeding heart?â he taunted. Hands traveling in different directions, his large hand groping the flesh of your ass. This stranger just reached under your skirt to grab you, and you to let out a little yelp, and his hand colliding with your mouth forcefully. âI donât think you want to find out what happens to little girls who are loud, and bratty. Iâm not gonna hurt you baby, just be a good girl, anâ let me take care of ya.â he raised the hand from your mouth to show you the tiny blue flame in his palm. Instinctively you shuddered, gulping down the lump in your throat. âAm I understood?â
You nodded, he grabbed your jaw, which forced you took look at him as his head appeared by you shoulder. âUse your words, like a good girl. Remember what we talked about?â he was quite attractive, despite all of the deep scars on his face. His black locks framing his face evenly, and looked quite fluffy. His scars looked painful, and so did all his staples. The piercings on his nostrils were cool though-- despite that, he looked like he had been through hell and back. It made you all the more confused, he was good looking enough to score any girl he wanted. Even with all of the scars and staples, girls probably drooled over it. So why did he bothering harassing you on a train? The man was probably just a full blown predator, and it made you start to panic worse.
âY-yes, I-Iâll be quiet. Iâll be good.â you said with a wavering voice, tears forming in your eyes at the situation.Â
âMmm, such a good girl. Nice anâ sweet, just like I like âem.â he murmured against your neck, leaving a wake of wet kisses across it. Taking some experimental bites to try to find your sweet spot, and when he did, you writhed against him. Letting out the cutest little whimper. âLook at you, youâre so fuckinâ sexy.â he was thankful he spotted you initially, he really found a prize that night.
He was walking back from a bar, and he saw you approaching the train station. You looked so sweet, so soft, and so easy to taint. The way your squishy thighs looked in your socks, and how your assâ curve was more prominent due to the skirts little ruffling drove him to you. Eyes lingering over ever inch of your body, he needed you the second he saw your cute face too. He just knew you were a sweet little girl, and he wanted to taste you before he lost you for good. Honestly, you were such a good girl for him right now he debated on taking you home. Sure, youâd be a lovely little pet to have around the house. He could sure use the company, and you were just so goddamn cute. The man would love to wake up every morning to face fuck you, or violate you a little bit before he started his day. I mean how could he notâ just look at the way your pretty e/c eyes leaked tears out, and your plump lips pouted as his fingers dove for your pussy. So pretty.
This sick man decided to lick your face to wipe away the tears from your stained, heated cheeks. His long, calloused fingers rubbing against your clothed slit, making your hips buck at the pleasure of it. Little strangled moans being held down in your throat. Waiting for your slick to seep through the pretty light blue cotton, and keep it for later. âHas anyone ever touched you like this before? Hmm? Does it feel good?â
âN-No, plea-ah, please j-just stop.â you cried out, sniffling after you choked out the words. His fingers began to push your pretty little panties to the side, moving his fingers up and down your cunt. Finally able to feel that you were actually becoming a bit wet, he chuckled behind you. You let out a soft moan, the first one he was able to actually get out of you.
âMm, youâre getting more wet by the second. You sure?â he teased. His opposing hand sleeping inside of your sweater, pushing a breast out of its cup, and squishing the flesh in his palm. Tweaking the nipple between his fingers, arching your back and wincing at the pleasurable pain. âYouâre so sensitive, and I havenât even put my dick in you.â
âPl-please. I- just want to g-go home.â you whimpered as he continued to violate you, finding your clit and pinching the bud between his fingers. Watching as your breaths became ragged, and the way your knuckles turned white as you held on to the metal pole. The way his fingers were working against your untouched pussy right now, was making it drool. You hated how much that was turning you on.
âTurn your head.â he commanded, and you did. Meeting once again, his face at your shoulder, this time his hand slipped from your breast. Grabbing the opposing side of your face and slamming your lips against his. Surprisingly, his kiss wasnât at all overbearing, or forceful as you thought it was going to be. It was slow, and somehow passionate, despite the situation. You kissed him back, just trying to be compliant. His lips were soft, despite his lower lip being badly damaged, and he knew how to use it well. The hand quickly knotted itself in your hair, causing you to gasp, and open your mouth for him. His wet muscle tangling in with yours, and with that, a deep guttural groan left the back of his throat. Combined with your little whimpers, created an odd symphony of pleasure.
With your mouth occupied, two of his fingers began running across your slit. Gathering the arousal between his fingers to act as lubricant. Then plunging the digits straight into your throbbing, and tight hole. Which made your body act on instinct, and you gasped loudly in his mouth. He pulled back, chuckling at how much you were reacting now. Panting like a bitch in heat, biting back a plethora of moans inside of your throat. He really wanted to hear you crying out to him, and moaning, but he didnât want to cause too much of a scene. Who knows, if heâs really feeling up for risking everyoneâs safety, mostly his own for some snatchâ heâll fucking do it.
âDo you feel good?â he asked you, kissing up your jaw again.
âY-yes.â you whispered, your small hands struggle to stay up against the pole. The pace of his fingers began to speed up, causing a horrid squish-y sound to be heard in the atmosphere around the two of you. He was practically cumming at the sound of your wet sex being violated and how well you were taking him.
âMm, I wish I could hear all those pretty sounds youâre tryinâ to hold back. God, you are just killinâ me tonight.â he moaned into your ear, taking it upon himself to start feverishly pepping your skin with his kisses as he pumped you closer, and closer to your end.Â
He began noticing the way you were starting to clench against him, he assumed you were beginning to enjoy yourself fully now. His other hand snaked its way down your body to toy with your clit again as well, without intent, you mewled at the sensation. One of your hands coming you to cover your mouth, you anxiously looked around the cart. For some reason, no one was looking. Either they really didnât want to look, or they were utterly disturbed by the sight in the far corner of the cart. Since no one was paying attention, you decided to act purely on desire since you were now worked up. Letting go of the pole you were holding on to, which the man behind you was quick to notice, thinking you were about to try to fight him off, the hand toying with your clit put a bruising hold on you midsection. You winced, both at the sudden loss of your breath, but also the fingers now violently crashing into your cunt, his breath ragged in your ear, causing a chill to run down your spine. âC-can I turn around?â you asked him. His movements stopped, you couldnât see but he was looking at you completely dumbfounded.
âWhy?â he said, sounding a little offended.
âWell t-thereâs not a-lot of people in here. No one i-is going to care, I... liked uhm, kissing.â you murmured shyly, feeling pathetic and disgusted with yourself for wanting more. But the throbbing inside of your womb was now becoming almost unbearable, you could use something to take the edge off.
âWhatâs your name, baby?â he asked, his chin now resting against your shoulder.
âF/n, why?â
âF/n... youâre very naughty, you know that? I mean what kind of dirty slut wants to start kissing someone who just grabbed âem on the train? Maybe I was right, you are a special girl, huh?â he was quick to turn you around, pulling his hood back over his head, but not all the way. Your bodies were touching, and resting against the pole. So that way you could actually look at him. The fingers that were inside you, stuck straight into his mouth. Cleaning off your natural essence off his fingers like he had eaten the best meal heâd ever had. âAt least you taste good. Sweet. Like fuckinâ honey or somethinâ. Câmere pretty, Iâll let you try.â he leered down at you, his jagged scars twisting up in a cocky smile. Grabbing you by the back of your head, and crashing his lips against yours, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth immediately, snaking a hand of his into your hair. The other one traveling down south once again, pushing right into your slippery walls. Mewling against his tongue.
The sight mustâve been so erotic, they way you were pulling his face closer to yours by holding the back of his neck. Moaning, and panting into the heated kiss. His fingers inside of your pussy scissoring, and harshly pressing right against your cervix. God his fingers are so long.
He yanked your head back, looking at your features. Drinking in the sight of your half lidded eyes, kiss swollen lips and flushed expression. Your eyes silently begging him to keep at it, removing your arms from his. The man bit his lip, leaning back a tad to put his hand around your neck, reveling at how pretty and soft you looked like this. His hand never stopping itâs assault inside of you. âSweet, right?â
âY-yeah.â
âHow close are you?â he asked, picking up his pace.
âMmm, c-close. So close. Nngh.â The hand around your neck squeezed harder at the sides, making your eyes roll back as the thrusts of his hand picked up. The man stood over you once more, watching how your eyes kept rolling back into your skull, and how you biting so hard on your lip he was worried it might split.Â
âDabi.â he said, waiting for you to reply, and giving your neck a break from the squeezing.Â
âH-Huh?âÂ
âMy name, I want you to say it. Say it when youâre cumminâ, I want you to remember who made you feel this good.â he kissed your cheek. âWill you be a good girl, anâ do that for me?â
âYes D-Dabi. Iâll- be good.â
âYouâre completely falling apart with just my touch.â he chuckled, leaning to your ear again, his hands dropping from your neck, to your thigh. Feeling to flesh of your ass again, this time he tried to hold your thigh to his hip, like he was expecting you to let him carry you. But in all honesty, itâs so he could rut his hips against your thigh and try to pretend for a second he was fucking you. Dabi reveled in the feeling of your soft skin against his fingertips. Bet it would feel even nicer against his dick. âI could fuck you right now, just whip out my cock, and stick it right in. I bet youâd like that huh? Me fucking you in front of all these people? I bet you wouldnât even try to be quiet. Dirty, dirty girl. Maybe I should, huh-â
âNo! No, p-please not here. Not in public. P-please Dabi.â
âI like seeing you beg like that, so I wonât this time âround.â he attached his mouth to your neck. Making it a point now to mark his territory, and watch you squirm. Wait-- this time around?! In that moment, you felt you were seconds away from bursting and his words meant nothing. His fingers inside of you continued to curl, and push you in all the right places. Your body quickly beginning to flood with a familiar euphoric sensation, knees growing weak, and the blissful feeling of stomach growing tight was all you could think about.
âD-Dabi.â you mewled out, mouth left to hang open. Your hands quickly clutching the jacket he was wearing, trying to feel like you had some control. âPlease d-donât stop, p-lease- oh!âÂ
He stared into your face as you grew closer. Dabi liked how hard you were tugging at his jacket, it confirmed for him that you were actually growing a lot closer than he thought. Despite the feeling of your gooey walls clenching around his fingers as if it was trying to suck them in. âCum for me baby, youâre so close.â
âDabi-- oh God, fuck- Dabi!â you cried out, a little bit louder than you intended. The coil in your stomach finally snapped, releasing the overwhelming feeling of your formerly restrained orgasm. Your tight cunny was clenching vigorously around him as he continued to pump into you, enjoying as you struggled to breathe due to how hard you had just came. Every inch of your body was jolting, trying to adjust to the come down of the feeling, and the man above you was watching with a smile. Dabi brought his free hand up that wasnât covered in slick, and wiped some sweat, as well with stray hairs from your face.Â
âOpen up.â he said, removing his hand from your aching, and pleased cunt, shoving them into your mouth. Suddenly alarmed by the feeling of tasting your own arousal, and having his fingers try to climb their way down your throat. âSuck.â
So thatâs what you did-- suck on his fingers, and he pumped them as well. Watching your pretty mouth try to take all of his abuse, and after he deemed them clean enough, he pulled them out. âYou did so well for me tonight. We a couple minutes left of this ride, letâs make out.â
Before you could even respond, his tongue was already in your mouth and silencing you. During the time it took for you guys to get to your train stop, you did exactly that. Passionately making out for all to see, against a pole inside of a train cart. His hands palming your ass under your skirt like before, and your hands running through the tendrils of inky black locks. Honestly, you really should feel more ashamed than you currently are. Making out with the same man who was making you cry not even fifteen minutes ago, and letting him grind his erection against your thigh. But, you needed to fix that ache in your womb. You needed someone, or something, to make that coil snap.
Then soon, the train was beginning to halt to a stop, and the two of you pulled away. Your hands still locked into his hair. Holding his face close to yours. âThat was fun, but I oughta head off now. Iâll be lookinâ out for you, so donât do anything stupid, or run off on me.â you nodded, feeling threatened by his words, but also excited at the opportunity to see him again. Never in a million years would you think this of all things would happen, but it wasnât anything to complain about. He pulled you in for another kiss, and following it by pressing another one to your cheek. âGet home safe now, âkay?â
âOkay.â you said in a hushed voice, as he pulled away from your body. Pulling his hood further over his face. Leaving you a stick, sweaty mess in the now emptying train. Adjusting your skirt, and top, combing through your now horribly messed locks.Â
Before stepping out, you got a disgusted look from an older woman in the back of the cart. Shaking her head at you. But it made you let out a little laugh, stepping out of the cart on to the platform. Eyes scanning the scene for any sight of your scarred, and disturbed prince charming. But by that time he was long gone. Which kind of made you sad, but also relieved. Your mind was hazy, and clouded with a confused lust. Wondering if his words were trueâ were you going to see him again? Did you even want to? Why werenât you freaking out right now? What is going on?
The entire walk home, was filled with your mind being so loud it was drowning out all of your senses.
Including the one that couldâve sensed the man following you home.
Donât worry though, he just wanted to make sure his pet got home safely.
#dabi smut#dom dabi#tw chikan#tw: dark fics#tw dark fic#dabi x reader#dabi fan fiction#tw dubcon#tw noncon#tw smut
760 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki
All Parts:
Part 9:
As it turns out, being told thereâs an imminent threat on your life, does not lend itself to a relaxing day at work. No, what it lends itself to, is a day of looking over your shoulder, of flipping the lights on in every room- of creeping quietly around furniture, trying to get the jump on whoever is hiding behind it.Â
Except, thereâs never anyone behind it. Thereâs never anyone behind anything, and all you have to show for it is a heart beating far too fast. All you have is a ribcage, strung together with dental floss, little bits of string pulled much too far and much too tight. Whatâs left is a person one surprise from a panic attack, and one loud noise away from a mental breakdown.
Itâs the weirdest anxiety youâve ever felt; a dripping, acrid, paranoia lining your bones with electricity and your muscles with shock. The strangest part of all though? The way youâre counting the minutes. Watching the seconds pass by with each moment, trying to be patient until you could see Bakugou of all people.Â
Youâre not sure when you started to associate him with safety, but itâs almost a lost cause at this point. His attitude was pretty much irrelevant to the issue, and even if he wasnât very soft or reassuring, you know heâd rather die than let you get taken. His ego just wouldnât allow it, and for some odd reason, you think thatâs the most comforting part of all.
You walk out the backdoor, dragging your feet and hardly even jumping in surprise when you see him. Bakugou is leaning against the back wall of the alley, disinterest coloring his face. Heâs in his hero gear, but thankfully heâs got his mask in his hands- being unable to fully see his eyes made him much harder to read.
âNo bruises, scrapes? Blood?â You ask, looking him up and down twice over. You canât help yourself as you near, eyes squinting as you study him closely. âNo injuries, right?â
âNo- âm fuckinâ fine. Stop fussing, woman.â
You see the red on his cheeks, just barely for a second, before heâs quickly sliding the mask onto his face. So much for seeing his eyes, then- apparently he wanted to keep you guessing all night. Not that you wouldnât have been anyway.Â
"I'm not- actually, yeah, sorry. Maybe I was fussing a little bit." You laugh under you breath, taking a step back. "It's not my fault though, alright? Usually I only see you when youâre exhausted or bleeding out."
"Yeah, because bein' around ya is fuckin' torture, leech. Why the hell would I see you if I didn't have to?"
You turn, balking at him. Under the glow of the streetlamp, something sly and mischievous lines his smile. You watch him glow for a moment, yellow streetlamp luminescence casting his pale skin in shades of glimmering gold. Heâs almost unrecognizable like that, unable to help himself when he shakes his head.Â
âI told you, leech.â He laughs. âYouâre too easy.â
âNo- youâre an asshole. You know that? You have to know that, donât you?â
âI know.â
âAnd, what, youâre proud of that?â
He just shrugs, kicking off the wall and brushing past you. His shoulder knocks into yours, and you feel a little unsteady at the impact. Bakugou laughs. Then he picks up speed, walking briskly towards the end of the alley, looking behind him to make sure that youâre following.Â
âThatâs not an answer, you know.â You say, rolling your eyes. âNot even a little bit of an answer.âÂ
âWho the fuck said I gotta answer all your questions, hah?â He replies, petulance coloring his words. He turns back to look at you, snapping his fingers to urge you on. âNow câmon. Faster. Pick up the goddamn pace.â
âJeez, youâre pushy tonight.â
Bakugou doesnât answer you, just leading you out of the alley, and into the street. He slows suddenly, falling behind you with watchful eyes scanning every shadow. Thereâs no one out that night, there almost never is at that time, but Bakugou still seems keen on keeping up his vigilance. Turning back to look at him, youâre almost shocked by the concentration on his face.
Itâs a look youâre not especially used to seeing on him. Youâd never realized how much time he spent just messing with you, but the foreignness of his expression made that apparent. In that moment, all you can wonder is why villians even bothered in the first place- it was obvious they werenât going to get away with anything under his watch. Not at least if Bakugouâs fists had something to say about it.Â
âYou look pretty guard-dog-like back there.â You comment with a coy smile. âSuper scary.â
âShut up.â
 âMhm, thatâs what you always say isnât it.â
 âFuckâs that supposed to mean?â
âNothing, nothing.â You say lightly, spinning to look at him for a moment. Heâs confused, head tilted slightly to the side. He looks like a dog all over again and you have to hold back a giggle. âJust means youâre short with me all the time. Well- when youâre not being mean that is.âÂ
âYou pickinâ a fight?â
âNo. No. Iâm not.â You laugh. âI almost never am, or at least not intentionally. You always think so though.âÂ
Bakugou speeds up then, his strides matching yours. Heâs close then, way closer to you than heâd usually walk. Youâre not particularly curious about it, but youâre sure that if you reached out, just barely extended your fingers, youâd brush right up against those giant gauntlets of his. And probably get those same fingers blasted right off- but thatâs neither here nor there.Â
âYou look tired.â He gruffs, changing the subject suddenly. Heâs looking away, eyes trained down every dark alley you pass. âYou somehow sleep worse than me or somethinâ?âÂ
âNo. Just lots of people coming in and out today. Lots of patients to see.âÂ
âMhm.â He nods. âAny weird injuries?â
âNo? Why?â
He just looks at you then, eyes squinting slightly.
âOh. Those villians you canât tell me about. I get it.â You say, and Bakugou nods. âBut no. Not that I saw- sorry. Strange influx of elderly people, though. But thatâs probably just a coincidence. Probably unrelated.â
âIt is.â
âHuh? How would you know?â
âJust do.â
You roll your eyes, huffing. âYou suck at explaining things, you know- just like, the worst conversationalist.â
He shrugs again, and at the movement you feel the edge of his gauntlets against your arm. The metal is cold, even through the thin material of your jacket, and you shiver.
âDamn, you really that fuckinâ scared of âem?â He scoffs, looking at you a little weirdly. âChill the hell out, leech. âm not after you.âÂ
âNo- itâs not- Iâm not scared of them. Well, I am, but not of you. Or them.â You rub at your arms, trying to avoid accidentally elbowing him as he walks next to you. âThe metal was just cold. Didnât expect it, is all.âÂ
He nods, grunting something under his breath. Then heâs side-eyeing you. For way too long to be normal, even for ordinary person standards. Hardly another breath passes before he smirks, jostling his shoulders and pressing the gauntlet directly into your arm. It hits against your jacket, flooding ice through the material and into your skin.
âItâs cold!â You squeal in surprise, almost stumbling as you pull away. You take another step to the side, just to increase the distance between you and him- just to be safe. âI literally just said that! Youâre a dick.âÂ
Bakugou just smothers his laugh in his shoulder.Â
âNo! Donât laugh- what you think this is funny? Huh?â
âYeah.â He chuckles, trying to get you with the gauntlets once more. You flinch away, which just makes him laugh more. âI do actually.â
âItâs not! Itâs cold out, you asshole! Donât make it any worse!â
He just laughs at you, eyes crinkling around the edges. Bakugou doesnât laugh much, not around you at least, but now youâre sort of wishing he did. His eyes look a lot brighter when he laughs. Happier.
âOkay, okay, chill out already.â He smirks, shushing you like a child. âWonât happen again.â
âYou sound like youâre lying.â
âNah. âm not.â
âI donât trust you.â You counter, eyeing him with suspicion. âNot at all.â
He just shrugs, like your answer doesnât surprise him, nor does it make any sort of difference. You suppose thatâs about right. Bakugou pretty much only cared about pushing your buttons- making you feel comfortable wasnât even a thought in his mind.
âYouâre such a baby.â He comments, eyes scanning down another dark alley. âSeriously. âs not even that fuckinâ cold outside.â
âSays you.â
âIâm right.â
âYouâre not.â
âI am.â
âYouâre absolutely not.â Drawing your jacket tighter, you fight the shiver that threatens to crawl up your spine. âYou know, for a guy who gets so mad about me âpicking fightsâ all the time, you sure do like to argue a lot. You sure youâre not actually the one picking fights?â
âI donât gotta pick âem, I just finish them.â
Thereâs no way- thereâs no way in hell a fully grown hero, a pro hero just opened his mouth and said that to you. Itâs inconcievable, or, it should be, but then you look at Bakugou and the absolute sincerity of his expression.
âYouâre a barbarian.â You canât help but laugh, pinching the bridge of your nose with faux annoyance. âSeriously. I just gagged on all the testosterone in that sentence.âÂ
âSo? âs not my fuckinâ problem.âÂ
âIt is. It definitely is.â You tell him, hardly restraining your urge to knock him right off the curb.Â
From where he is, walking on the outside of the sidewalk and closest to the road, all it would take is a little nudge- heâs walking so very close to the edge. But knowing him, Bakugou would probably take you with him. So you refrain, changing the subject instead.
 âSo, you see any bad guys yet?â
âBad guys?â He snorts, eyeing you like youâre stupid. âNo. I havenât seen any villains, yet.âÂ
âGood, just checking. I donât actually know what Iâd do if you did.â
âYou donât do shit. You stay the hell out of it.â
âOkay, but what if you-â
âNo. You run the other direction and go fuckinâ hide. Thatâs what you do.â He orders, seriousness lining his features. âDonât go tryinâ anything. Youâll only get in the way, leech.â
A part of you bristles all over at that- at his insistence that youâd be nothing but useless weight in a fight. It makes you uncomfortable because as it stands, heâs right. Youâd never be able to hold your own, much less defeat anyone.
You felt weak. Vulnerable.
âDonât be a goddamn baby. I can see you panicking.â He says, kicking at a rock on the sidewalk. âI told you- âm not planninâ to let any of those fuckers get you. âs a hypothetical, so donât go cryinâ over shit that hasnât even happened yet.â
âItâs not that.â
âFuck is it then?â
âItâs just- I was thinking, you know, about what Iâd do in a fight.â You start, rubbing at your elbow mindlessly. âAnd youâre right. Iâd be entirely useless. I canât hurt anybody. I donât think I ever would, even if I had the skills to.â
You hardly see it from the corner of your vision, but Bakugou scrunches his nose. Your words mustâve upset him because then heâs huffing like a bull, curling his fingers closed into a fist.
âDonât say it like itâs a fuckinâ bad thing. Donât be an idiot.â He mutters lowly, voice pinched and tight. Thereâs a flush on his cheeks, just barely visible in the dark. âPeople getting fuckinâ hurt is never a good thing.â
âNo, itâs not. I guess youâre right. But, still, I guess what Iâm saying is I wish I was a little less soft, you know? Stronger.â
He cuts his eyes toward you, something guarded lining them. You can hardly tell, and you wish heâd take his mask off, but Bakugou almost looks..... offended?
âBeinâ soft doesnât mean youâre fuckinâ weak.â
âYouâve literally called me weak before!âÂ
âYeah- when you were playinâ all fuckinâ nice when you didnât mean it.â He flares his nostrils. âThatâs weak.âÂ
âOh, so youâre saying- actually, no, I have no idea what point youâre trying to get at right now.â
âJesus, youâre stupid.â He mutters on his breath. âIâm saying, donât do shit just because you think you have to. Thatâs stupid. Thatâs weak.â
âSo youâre saying I shouldnât fight anybody?â
âDo you want to fight anybody?â
âWell, no, but-â
âThen why the hell are we even fuckinâ talking about this?â He asks, simple and plain like it never even mattered to him in the first place. âIf you donât want to fight then donât fight. Itâs that fuckinâ easy.â
âYeah, but-â
âNo buts.â He says, finality lacing his tone. âBesides, itâs not gonna fuckinâ matter anyway. Iâll skin âem before they even get anywhere near you.â
Bakugou seems to realize his words- and the weight behind them at the same time you do. Where youâre blushing and looking away, heâs straightening in place next to you. His spine goes ramrod, feet stuttering like the pavement is shooting electric shocks through his heels.Â
âThatâs- I think thatâs the only sort of nice thing youâve ever said to me.â You utter out, entirely shocked. Then youâre slapping a hand against your mouth, breathing a gasp out between the gaps in your fingers. âThatâs- thatâs the only nice thing I get? A threat against somebody else? Thatâs ridiculous!â Â
You canât help the giggle that tumbles out of your mouth then, something small and tiny quickly growing louder. It makes you feel light- weightless on the street, like the pavement below you is bolstering you higher with each step. When you look over, Bakugouâs not laughing, but heâs smiling, something pinched and shy as he looks back at you. A he stares at you, blinking slowly, tipping his head to the side like he doesnât understand.
âItâs- Iâm sorry.â You laugh, biting down on your lip. âItâs just so funny! You being nice isnât even you being nice- itâs just you being mean to somebody else for once!âÂ
âIf this is what youâre like when Iâm fuckinâ nice, then Iâll never be nice to you again.âÂ
âDonât grumble.â You smile, trying to cover your smile with an errant palm. âEven if Iâm laughing, Iâm not necassarily laughing at you, you know? I guess what Iâm saying is that it helps with the panic- to know that somebody capable is looking out for me, you know?â
âYeah, I bet.â
His tone leaves something sour, sarcasm and cynicism left behind on his breath. You look over at him, but his eyes are trained forward, shooting between every dark crevice and shadow. Heâs relentless, shoulders constantly drawn forward, stalking and prowling like heâs just waiting for somebody to challenge him.
It makes you wonder whoâs looking out for him. If anybody even is- or, more specifically, if he is letting anyone.
âHey, Bakugou?â You ask suddenly.Â
âWhat?â
âI appreciate it, you know. This. You walking me home.â You find yourself unable to hold his intense gaze any longer. Eyes trained at the ground, you continue. âI know you didnât have to, and even if itâs not for me, it still makes me feel a lot better. Less scared. So thank you.âÂ
He doesnât say anything, doesnât really even react other than straightening a little beside you. It makes you want to take the words back, to fluster, make excuses maybe- but you donât. You steel yourself and you donât apologize because you meant it. Meant every word.
âJesus, you really are soft, huh.â He mutters quietly, voice hardly carrying through the cold air. âReally fuckinâ soft.â
âYeah. I am.â
He doesnât say anything else, but he does walk a little closer. From where he is, right up next to you, Bakugou looks a lot different. It might just be the low light, but you couldâve sworn he was all soft angles then; all smooth skin covering a gently sloping nose, delicate lips curled up into the smallest of smiles. You think heâs beautiful then- like somehow, all of his blistering strength had gone molten instead of igniting.Â
Thereâs not much left to say, and youâre out of jokes, so the rest of your walk is spent in silence. Itâs a weird kind of quiet, something that sits heavy in your chest, warm and fluid- almost like itâs lulling you to sleep. Thereâs still a little anxiety rolling in your stomach, but thatâs softened now too. Youâre sure Bakugou would laugh at you if you told him, but he really did make you feel safe. If only in an belligerent and begrudging sort of way on his end.Â
Another few minutes pass and youâre at the entrance to your apartment building. He hovers close behind you as you swipe your keycard, eyes watching the same way theyâd done all night. He really is diligent when he wants to be apparently.
âAre you coming in?â You ask, lingering in the door way.
âNah. Iâm on patrol for a few more hours.â Â
âOh- yeah, okay, that makes sense.â
âYou scared or somethinâ?â He asks, squinting at you. âGo inside already.âÂ
You curl your fingers a little tighter around the handle, shifting your weight onto your other foot. It frustrates you a little- how he seems to see right through you when you can hardly ever tell what heâs thinking.Â
âNo- well, yes, but I get it, youâve got other priorities.â You say, gently. âGo, Iâll be fine. Donât let my weird paranoia hold you up or anything.âÂ
He just nods, adjusting the mask on his face as he turns away. Bakugou only makes it a few steps, just barely secluded into the shadows beyond the complex lights, before heâs turning around. Hand itching at the back of his neck, he plants his feet, regarding you with familiar red eyes.
âItâs not weird.â He says. âIâll be back later. Donât do anything fuckinâ stupid while Iâm gone.âÂ
Then heâs turning around before you can say anything, his dark costume melting into the shadows. The air somehow feels colder when he leaves, empty almost, and you rush into your apartment complex as a result.
When youâre finally unlocking your door, and quickly relocking it behind you, the exhaustion nearly bulldozes you. Youâd been so careful that day, not using your quirk just like Bakugou had advised, but in the end you figured it didnât really matter- you were scared, absolutely terrified about some villian it didnât seem like you could even prepare for. That would make anyone tired, weird quirk or not.
Collapsing on your couch with a sigh, you canât help yourself as sleep quickly takes over.
--/--
Youâre jolted awake by the sound of knocking, and, even in your sleep-drunk haze, you know who it is. Youâd never known anyone else in your entire life who knocked as loudly as he did. It was like miniature bombs were going off against the glass.Â
Bakugou is standing outside in normal clothes, thankfully shucked of both his hero costume and mask. Heâs clad in sweatpants and a t-shirt, tapping his foot impatiently as you approach the door. You wonder how heâs not cold, how in the world heâs not freezing his ass off out there. Youâd ask, but the exhaustion is still creeping in, piloting your body with hardly a quarter of as much energy as you would normally have.
âYou look tired.â He says, taking in your appearance when you slide open the door. He lets himself in, brushing past you when you apparently take too long. âYou fall asleep or somethinâ?â
âYeah- yeah, I did, sorry.â You yawn, rubbing away the sleep in your eyes. âCouldnât help it. Was tired.â
âOh.â
Bakugou seems a little stilted, hardly even looking at you, and when he does, itâs with a flush on his face. You just shrug his weird behavior off, not having the energy to ask nor the care to even remotely get to the bottom of it. As it was- you were dead tired. His weird mood wasnât going to trump that apparently.
âYou all good?â You yawn again into your hand, then stretch your arms high above your head. âNo injuries or anything?â
âNope.â
âOh. Okay. Thatâs good. Thatâs good.â You trail off, turning away from him to gather your purse and coat off of the couch. âHow was it?â
âI didnât find them yet. If thatâs what youâre asking.â
âNo- well, thatâs sorta- but not really.â Youâre fluffing the pillows for him before you realize, gathering a blanket from where it was tucked away too. âI meant- like, everything go alright? Just general checking up stuff.â
âWhy- you decide to care now or somethinâ?â
âDonât be difficult. I care. Wouldnât- wouldnât ask if I didnât care to know the answer.â
âFine.â He grumbles, cheeks going pink once more. âIt was boring. Nobody was out tryinâ to pull anything.âÂ
âWell, thatâs nice to hear, actually.â
You continue making up his pseduo bed, spreading the blanket over your cushions and folding it back neatly. Itâs almost subconscious, the way your hands move even through your sleep-fog. Bakugou just watches, looking at you a little strangely. His red eyes flicker from you, to the pseduo-bed youâd made up for him, and then back again several times over.Â
On the couch, thereâs the normal blanket, but this time youâd also sacrificed one of your real pillows too. You figured that if he was going to go through the hassle of making sure you were safe, then the least you could do was spare him a good pillow. Still, the gesture seemed to stump him, and Bakugou just stared blankly at it. Then his eyes flicker back to you, something unsure in them.
Youâre not used to seeing him like that. Apprehensive. Almost timid.
âHope itâs alright.â You tell him, passing him to flick off the bright overhead light. âThought it was about time for an upgrade. Take it as a show of my appreciation.âÂ
âWhatever.â He flusters a bit, but shakes it off quickly. âGlad you finally realized how shitty your throw pillows are.â
âMhm. Sure.â
âYou really that tired?â
âYeah. Sorry. âs pretty hard for me to function after Iâve just woken up. âs really embarrassing.âÂ
âNo, itâs-â
Bakugou seems to suddenly seize in place half way through his words, spinning the other direction like someone was puppetting his strings. You really start to wonder what had gotten into him in the few hours since youâd seen him last.
âWell, if thatâs all,â You say, hiding another large yawn behind your gloves. Then youâre pulling at the material, freeing one of your hands. âThen Iâd really like to go back to sleep. So, câmon, hand out already, yeah?âÂ
He nods tightly, his whole face red. He wonât look at you, eyes hardly flickering up to yours for a second before he forces them back down. Another loud yawn escapes you, and that only seems to worsen whatever problem heâs having, because then Bakugou is dragging a hand down his face- stretching and pulling and tugging at heated skin like heâs in physical pain. Still, he holds his hand out anyways, refusing to meet your eyes.
That same subtle warmth floods you again, solid and sure where his hand meets yours. Itâs muted now, a little softer, but still there. Youâre half asleep, barely functioning, and you absentmindedly rub the back of his hand with you thumb, once, twice, and then pat when you let go.
He just looks at you, absolutely bewildered, and honestly- youâre not sure you have an explanation. There is no explanation. All there is, is your bone-deep exhaustion and the apparently uncharacteristic things it makes you do. Like shushing him when he starts to speak, which only seems to stun him more. Then youâre waving him off, beginning to walk towards your bedroom without hardly letting him get a reaction in edgewise. Youâd apologize, but honestly, youâre sure youâd fall asleep half-way through the words.Â
âGoodnight.â You say absentmindedly, head lolling over your shoulder to look back at him. âHave a good sleep or whatever. See you tomorrow.â
Then youâre stumbling down the hall, just barely remembering to flick off the overhead lights. You hit the bed, flopping down boneless and sated.Â
Youâre sure it must take all over 10 seconds until youâre out again. Maybe even less than that.
--
hope u enjoy lovelies :)))
taglist: Â @fluffyviciousbunny @definitelynottrin @imsuperawkward @i-need-air @ahbeautifulexistence @brennabooz @jazzylove @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @katsuki-bakubabe @sorrythatspussynal @bakugouswh0r3 @cloudsgathering @un-limit-edd @thekatsukisimp @pollayra21 @the2ndl @officialtrashbusiness @waffleareniceandfluffy @monempathieetmoi @koiwoshinai @christianagrace9 Â @the2ndl @the-shota-king-masayuki @shy-panda02 @devastyle @shoto-supremacy00 @shotofulÂ
#bakugou#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugou#bakugou x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x self insert#bakugou fic#bakugou series#mha bakugou#bnha bakugou#mha fic#bnha fic#bakugou fluff#bakugou imagine
185 notes
·
View notes
Text
Partly sick of Taka's lectures about law and safety--at one time, complete with a slideshow of police photos of motorcycle accident injuries--and partly wanting to make his boyfriend happy, Mondo finally gives in to get a helmet and riding gear. He lets Taka drag him to a place that sells secondhand, because he can't rationalize spending too much on something he's hoping to weasel out of. He leaves his gang jacket behind, hoping he doesn't get recognized.
Mondo stays more toward the textiles than real leather, and keeps veering for comfort despite Taka reminding him safety is what's important here. The armor options intrigue him--because saying you have armor on sounds badass--and he knows he has at least a few gang members who wear armor under their jumpsuits, but one change at a time. He leaves it for now and goes to try on the gear he picked out.
He hates it. It feels so restrictive compared to his normal clothes. His ankles alone feel confined in the boots. With the clothes on he doubts he'll be able to feel the wind at all and the dangerous sense of freedom it gave him. Plus, his hair is already ruined by being stuffed into the half helmet. At least he likes the black and white gloves. Maybe he can ride once in everything to please Taka then pretend it was all stolen in an ambush?
Sighing, Mondo steps out to model for Taka, who'd been anxiously tapping his boot the whole time. The tapping stops immediately, leaving a long stretch of silence.
"...Bro?" Mondo pushes up the visor on his helmet. "Does it look that fuckin bad or...?"
"La-language," Taka reminds him because they're in public, but his voice sounds funny. More like a squeak than his usual bold tone.
It makes Mondo think Taka is trying not to laugh at him. He should know Taka would never, but habits die hard, and his temper ignites.
"THIS BLOWS! I LOOK STUPID AS HELL! THIS WAS A FU-FRICKEN WASTE A' TIME!" He roars, hilariously curbing his vocabulary once like it made a difference.
Another customer that had been inside quickly finds the door, and the employee waiting at the counter looks like she wants to follow.
Mondo has his helmet off, pompadour falling free, and is about to smash it into the floor before Taka latches onto it.
"BRO! MONDO!"
The biker glares down at him, huffing.
"MONDO, YOU LOOK SO GOOD!"
The huffing becomes a surprised inhale. "Huh?" That's when Mondo actually takes in Taka's expression. There's definitely blushing, and Taka's eyes are roaming all over him, pupils blown. "Ya... like it?"
"YES! Erm, yes," Taka struggles to reign in his enthusiasm. "It, uh, hugs your frame nicely. And the BOOTS--the boots look s-sturdy."
Ohhh, Mondo gets it now. Taka liked uniforms; Taka liked order, and this is as well put together as Mondo had ever gotten. He even wore his school uniform casual. It kind of amused him Taka would have a thing for others in boots too. He wonders...
Holding up a gloved hand, Mondo asks, "What about these?"
Taka swallows hard as he reaches out to trace along the material on Mondo's hand. "They're... practical. And dashing," his voice pitches up again on the last word.
"Babe," Mondo starts, and Taka's eyes go slightly wide at use of the name in an unfamiliar place, "are ya gettin hot for this sh-stuff?"
Embarrassment makes Taka's face go crimson and he suddenly looks around for any witnesses, but the employee had wisely gone into hiding somewhere. Mondo's gloved hand gently grabs his chin to bring his attention back, making him quietly whimper.
"You do look v-very," Taka's eyes scan down Mondo's outfit to the riding boots again, and he whispers like his confession will bring trouble, "sexy."
"YO, LADY, CAN I CHECK OUT OR WHAT HERE!?" Mondo had sprinted right for the counter and was repeatedly pressing the service bell like an asshole.
After paying, they'd been asked politely to never come back.
[gear I used for reference under the cut]
BILT gloves I went for light weight and flexible. They have an all-black style too.
Joe Rocket Superstreet Boots Mondo ain't dealing with mid-calf boots like Taka; I think he'd scream. There's also a shorter slip-on style here.
Couldn't decide between some random PURPLE jacket I found and a rated one in dr colors called "the Carlo". Okay, I lied, I really want Mondo in that purple one.
Simple half helmet instead of a Ÿ or full one. Mondo is used to a lotta wind and his ears uncovered. Probably a reason he's loud af. This is Gmax HH65
And you all know what motorcycle pants look like; they're all pretty plain unless custom. If you're curious, I didn't want leather but idk of Mondo would tolerate denim, so I looked at polyester & mesh pants w/o armor.
"Why didn't you go with all black?" I dunno, kinda boring? I looked for dragon designs but couldn't find much affordable. You're absolutely welcome to imagine any motorcycle gear on Mondo you like for the fantasy.
#ishimondo#mondo oowada#kiyotaka ishimaru#the gang will bust mondo until he brings taka with his slideshow in#danganronpa
67 notes
·
View notes
Text
air support, we need you (or: tscosi 2x09)
some bomb dropping, ofc, spoilers below duh
same game, top three things i had feelings âbout in reverse order
3. time skip time! Everyone could use a bit of a breather, even if it canât live up to Arkadyâs goat farm dreams
I thought all the planet assignments made sense, even if the completionist in me wanted it to differ more from the split that had already happened this season
ok ok the shipper in me was 50-50 but weâll address that later
2. my man park!! is back!!!Â
Showing up with an anti-aircraft missile launcher as a wedding gift. I kept joking that Park would keep up his finale trend of showing up as a surprise being cool (as cool as Park can be anw), and thought it wouldnât happen till it did!
and him also quietly saying the defector wasnât Shelly....Park...are you going to talk about this...
narrowly avoided extended crew singing for the third time, will he keep up this success rate?
I would take a mini-episode that just followed Park in the second half of the season (Park: I am an independent man who needs no crew)
1. Arkady attacking Krejjh because she thinks theyâre an enemy, AND then McCabe pulling a gun on her to make sure she didnât run away. Bro. Bro, that shit was a direct hit to the id. Do I even have words for how good that was
Knowing what was about to happen as soon as Arkady said âYouâ in that tone of voice, ugh
Krejjh saying Arkady instead of First Mate Patel in desperation, and then brushing it off with a :D after
But god, McCabe. Theyâve been so compelling this season, and yeah, maybe theyâre approaching everything like a nail with the hammer theyâve got that shoots bullets, but the point is, it fuckin worksÂ
Arkady buys the threat (the promise of her crewâs safety?) more than she buys Krejjhâs reassurancesÂ
(though reading the transcript, Krejjh specifically telling Arkady âScience Officer Liu will never forgive youâ, not âforgive usâ, is excellent too)
âthe only authority figures yet to disappoint meâ /Â âIâm not an authority figureâ /Â âyou donât get to decide thatâ is just like. embedded in my mind. just McCabe going no, you donât get to run verbally either.
Do you ever think about how Arkady and McCabe had like, different kinds of fucked up childhoods compared to the rest of the crew. Like obviously McCabe ending up an agent so young and the stuff about their family suggests a pretty secure background, but it feels like the IGR and Dwarnian war starting when they were 12 gives them a kind of cynicism that meshes well with Arkadyâs, in a way thatâs distinct from how Arkady and Violetâs morbidness mesh, or Arkady and Sanaâs pragmatism
ok more character feels under the cut
donât scandalize the grandparents
A married man!Â
Impressed he made it through the season with no baddies wrecking his oxygen
Always ready to point out that Arkady is actually as much of a nerd as he is
AKA I didnât realize it was a Mozart reference till he said so. Arkady defies the jock-nerd chart
okay who of Arkady or Krejjh is gonna tell him about MMA fight outside, or did they do a whole team debrief. For Arkadyâs sake Iâm hoping not the latter, though I guess everyone else would like an explanation for McCabeâs gun-pointing??
likes solving problems without guns, would prefer solving them by FLYING SPACESHIPSÂ
Krejjh watches McCabeâs gun strategy work on Arkady and goes âdo you folks really live like this?? why???â
I do love that their first thought on what to do next is to run a bunch of supplies around, probably between human populations that are going to be a wary at seeing a dwarnian show up. (Eat it, Eejjhgreb)
Kinda wonder if their feelings about getting choked out by their buddy are in fact more complicated than âitâs chill dude, please donât do something stupidâ
The cutest vow
who needs to calm down your crewmates with annoying words when you can just point a gun at them
Seriously where is the human-dwarnian war AU where it lasts longer or happens later where McCabe is the baby sniper posted to Arkadyâs unit and they squabble a bunch (and perhaps kiss? When I wrote my third ever ficlet for this fandom never did I anticipate actually being interested in that)
what % of their Mirzakhani choice was thinking âwhat if Arkady tries to run from the goat farm and no oneâs around to point a gun at herâ jk jk
Their exclusion of Park from authority figures that didnât disappoint them is fascinating. Is it that he left hoping for Shelly when it probably wasnât her, or that he isnât an authority figure anymore, a combination there of?
Or worst of all, is it that when he didnât kill Krejjh back in 1x10, that really was a disappointment, no matter how much it mightâve been mixed with relief, and you canât undo that moment?
What if they and Park talked. But I donât think Park is going to goat planet, so that seems unlikely.
Their apology to Sana for heightened Martineau security! And Sana reiterating the profound gratefulness bit, gah
mostly read other peopleâs words and yet sparked consideration of two different OT3s, her power.
you know what, everyone deciding Sana is the best person to read words makes complete sense
There was one specific moment this episode that sent my mind into a tizzy about V/A/S, and it was Arkady going FINE GO ASK THE CAPTAIN THEN at how firm Violet was that Tripathi would be the one driving her, not Arkady.
I need you to understand that my V/A/S OT3 opinions are such that my shipping feels were more set off by that than Sana and Violet telling Arkady they were proud of her for choosing goat planet or whatever, like I donât even know what dynamic was so captured by that argument, rip at Arkady having to be systems apart from them again
Though ofc my heart was buoyed by Sanaâs earnest âKady, you do more than thatâ, I want these two to go do a job together again, I miss that
To shift gears, I cannot believe âLennyâ started out as Sana being absolutely furious at the people threatening her crew and has ended up a teasing in-joke between her and Park, my Sana/Park shipping feels were very content. (When does Sana learn that Park didnât get to hear the long list of fake crimes the Rumor crew specifically confessed to Lenny? This must be fixed. Tell him about the diamonds!)
Campbell said âPark, let me show you where weâve been sleeping.â and my brain went. Wait. This is actually a good OT3?? Park is already unnerved by Sanaâs earnest captaining, he should get unnerved by Campbellâs default magnanimity, please consider this
this is also where I point out that all these major characters have very convenient names for indicating ships solely via letters. V/A! B/K! S/P/C! This may solve my ot3 tagging problem...
get off that cotton candy boat, vi
Haha I loved that line from Doc Robinson sheâs so no-nonsense, love Violet agreeing to work with her
Doc also said menders and I thought about this post again and also the team split and ahhh
But no, I very much liked Violet gently crushing Arkadyâs goat farm dreams, and the two of them awkwardly discussing the very awkward stage things are at while still getting a feel for how the other operates
These nerds are trying and Iâm still fond of them
at some point I was gonna make fun of Vi for not being able to drive before realising 1. she probably didnât want to deprive the others of a vehicle 2. that would be incredibly hypocritical of me
wait does the igr have excellent public transport when they arenât bombing it i take back every bad thing iâve said abou-
*ahem* same question about the MMA fight debrief I had for Brian, it would be so funny if the situation was so rushed that like, Arkady+McCabe explain to Brian on the farm and Krejjh has to tackle everyone else
tick, tock, walking bomb, when it stops, nobody knows
arkady is so whumpable, and this show knows it
Redundant, but love how terrified of herself she is after hurting Krejjh and how strangely reassured she is by McCabeâs gun antics. And how she doesnât like thinking of herself as an authority figure on the ship even though she literally is as First Mate
is ready to monologue about all major life events and the crew frickin knows it
is trying to help herself and stuff, still grumbling about it. in worse shape this season than last - probably all the constant discussion of the inevitable war just kept building stuff up and she kept ignoring it because haha who wants to deal with this prickly mess of a person haha
did i mention sheâs the best
hope she gets her full goat farm dream one day, even if itâs not on actual goat farm
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
Late July
Fandom: Kingsman: The Golden Circle
Pairing: Agent Whiskey [Jack Daniels]/Reader
Rating: Holy shit explicit.
Summary: Upon hearing about you from Tequila, Jack Daniels seeks you out with a full set of emotional baggage to work through. You happily oblige, helping him craft a scene that just might grant him some peace of mind. Enjoy!
Tag List: @huliabitch @wrestlingfae @cookiethewriter @culturalrebel @jackierey09 @crookedmoonsaultpunk @duker42 @agirllovespasta @nelba @pedrosbigdorkenergy @lestrange2703 @youmeanmybrain @luvley-shadow @theocatkov @miscellaneousjunkk @reluctantlyresponsibleadult @buttons-beads-lace @gooddaykate @lackofhonor
[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains consensual non-consent (surrender play), light domination, roleplay, unprotected sex, frank discussion of safe words, usage of safe words, dirty talk and light bondage. Remember that fanfictions are not research and that you should never engage in any activity if you do not trust your partner. Stay safe!]
There was just something about you that put people at ease, and Ginger Ale noticed during the interview process. "You have a gift!" She had praised you, her smile unexpected and bright. "I can see why Tequila recommended you for this position."
Granted, being the 'head of first impressions' at a distillery that was actually a front for a secret intelligence agency had its ups and downs, but you enjoyed the work and (if you were honest) the exciting interactions with the Statesman agents.Â
Tequila, of course, would practically drape himself across your desk as he regaled you with (hopefully) exaggerated tales of his heroics. The two of you were sexually involved but preferred to keep each other at arm's length out of the bedroom, neither party particularly keen on surrendering your freedom and committing to anything serious at this point of your lives. You admired his dedication to Statesman, and he in turn respected your desire to have a successful career. He also was blatantly mooning over a certain analyst.
Ginger Ale was quieter and sharper than Tequila, her dry humor a joy to witness. She was the one who had done your interview, and she had given you the full behind the scenes tour once your background check went through. She was beautiful, charismatic and smart as a whip. You hoped to one day be as self-assured as she was.
Champ tended to keep to himself for the most part, though you had encountered him several times in the past when he dozed off in a certain chair at the end of a sunlit hallway. The elderly man was like an old tomcat, you decided, able to prowl but more than willing to take it easy.
Whiskey was often away managing the affairs of their New York headquarters and as such, was the one that you interacted with the least. He would come breezing in at all hours, a slow smile and a wink directed your way before he would saunter past. The rare occasions that he engaged you in conversation were nerve-wracking, as you were a little starstruck due to the glowing accounts both Champ and Tequila had given of his prowess in the past.
Ginger Ale was a bit more down to earth, thankfully. "He's just a man who's lost a lot, and his reasons for wanting to change things for the better may not be entirely altruistic." She had informed you concisely when you queried about the origin of one Jack Daniels. You had picked up on the veiled sadness in his dark eyes, the age that seemed to weigh him down that wasn't entirely related to years.
So when the aforementioned Statesman agent had drunkenly expressed a certain desire to you at a company party, you couldn't hide a little spike of curiosity. Mainly because the two of you interacted so rarely. Hell, you wouldn't even call yourselves friends. Tequila must have told him about your side activities.
"Ever since I lost her, I can't fuckin' bring myself to raw anyone else." The confession had come out of left field, but you had done your best to play it off like it was normal. Lord knew you had done enough paperwork in your career at Statesman to understand that agents would just kind ofâŠsay things thoughtlessly if they believed they were in a safe environment. A hazard of the job.
"What do you mean, Mr. Daniels?"Â
"Call me Jack. Jesus, I ain't that old." He had hiccupped sharply, grimacing. "I just mean I...it's like a mental block. I wanna', I'm excited about it, and everything's fine until I try to come and boom. Python shrivels up like a damn salted slug and I'm left holdin' the bag tryin' to explain myself." He stared into his glass, looking pensive. "Real mood killer."
"Any idea why this might be?" You had prompted, leaning against the bar and idly scanning the throngs of people around you. It wasn't every day that so many of the company's rank and file rubbed elbows with the higher-ups, but you had to assume these economic mixers were what had kept the company (and intelligence agency) on such an even keel. It was a grounding experience, a way to remind the suits of their humble beginnings.
He scoffed out a breath. "Oh I know exactly why. When I lost her, I...we had only learned a little while before that she was havin' a baby. We'd been havin' a rocky time and we were actually thinkin' of breakin' up, but that newsâŠ" Jack had tilted his head to glance your way, his brown eyes distant. "If I hadn't gotten her pregnant, she wouldn't have been out shoppin' that day, y'know?" A sad smile had quirked his mouth beneath his mustache. "My fault."
At the time, you had made a noise of sympathy and gone to lay a hand on his arm before you could think better of it. He, instead of shrugging off your touch, actually ended up twining his fingers through your own and giving your hand a light squeeze.
Agent Whiskey's past was a shadowy affair in the Statesman organization. Though to be fair, no one really asked anything about anyone. Ginger Ale reasoned that the less people knew, the safer they and Statesman were in the event of a security breach.Â
Anything you learned from any of the agents, you tended to keep close to your heart. It was your nature to gather useful information and foster trust for a rainy day. That personality facet had served you well as you had climbed the ranks from intern to head of first impressions, and knowing that you were someone that could be counted on to hold your cards close put many people at ease.
Including one Agent Whiskey.
"Tequila said you were good at helpin'. I'd be much obliged if you'd consider takin' a crack at my sexual baggage."
...
"Alright so for your words, you've decided on 'sixth' as your 'yes I'm into this', followed by second for 'slow down but don't break character', first for 'slow down and do break character' and finally neutral for 'full stop'." You tapped the customary notepad on your lap, glancing over at the man across the table. The two of you were currently sitting in the kitchen of the vacation cabin that your parents had willed to you, the modest dwelling often your staging ground for affairs like this. The warm wooden decor tended to make your partners feel more at ease and less vulnerable. Perceived safety was, after all, incredibly important when crafting scenarios.
Jack nodded. "Gears are easy for me to remember. Simple."Â
"Got it. And no kissing on the mouth. Can I kiss you in other places, or would you prefer I didn't at all?"
"Kissin's fine." Jack allowed. "Whatever you wanna' do is fine, just not on my mouth." You jotted that down. "Hey, I uh...I just wanted you to know that I really appreciate you agreein' to help. I dunno' if this will work, butâŠ" Whiskey rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Thanks. When Tequila mentioned your...extracurriculars, I figured he was jus' bein' outta' pocket again."
You grinned at that, giggling a little. "Does he get weird a lot?"
"I mean, he's uh...well, he's got his moments." Jack replied with a smile of his own.
"So," you hummed once you had checked your notes again, "after looking over all the information we've compiled, and the ideas you gave me an outline of, I'm thinking that you may want more of a 'surrender-play' kind of experience."Â
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Dare I ask how that's different from what I already suggested?"Â
"Look, you and I both know that I couldn't keep you from moving if you wanted to. Now, if we had a real working dynamic going on and I believed that you would listen and trust me implicitly so that you don't end up hurting yourself or me, then we might have something. But as we are right now, that's not gonna' happen." Whiskey inclined his head with a rueful chuckle, acknowledging the truth of your words. "So I propose that it's more of a scenario where all the agency is removed."
The agent leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. "Explain."
"You need a scenario where you aren't in control and there's not even a chance of you being in control, taking any responsibility or guilt from the equation." You elaborated. "Basically, you would surrender your control so that you can indulge guilt-free. A lot of people do this coupled with a roleplay aspect in order to test new things that may be out of character for them."
"You coulda' jus' said you wanted to tie me up, sugar." Jack drawled. "I'll show you some good knots."
"You don't have any issues with being secured to...I guess a chair, probably? We'll keep you upright. If we sprawl you out on a bed that might be a little too vulnerable." You reasoned, waiting for his nod before you wrote it down. "I know it sounds contradictory, but I want you to be comfortable in what we do. Should I leave your clothes on?"
"If you can stand to, I'd appreciate it." The man answered with a cheeky wink. "Bein' naked and restrained is a little too close to the job description." He sighed after a moment, tipping the chair backwards as he laced his fingers behind his head. "Now I warn you, if I'm supposed to be an unwillin' party, I may display a little less Southern hospitality and a little more Southern history with my language, if you catch my drift."
You pursed your lips, squinting at him. "...is that your way of saying you might use a naughty word or two?"
You received a lazy finger-gun in reply, "bingo, cherry pie. You got any names you ain't a fan of bein' called?"
"Oh! I mean, I've heard just about everything in the book." You straightened up as a thought occurred to you, and then pointed back at him sternly. "No slurs."
"Ma'am," Jack sounded aghast, "I am not that breed of Southern gentleman. My lingo can verge on the spicy, but I sure as hell wouldn't stoop to that level."Â
You narrowed your eyes to drive your point home. "I really hope not." The agent inclined his head once more, putting a hand over his heart in a display of sincerity.
The front legs of the chair met the floor with a soft clatter, once again putting him on stable footing. "Now, I been wrackin' my brain tryin' to drum up a good premise like you asked, but I ain't exactly big in the screenwritin' department. I figure it could be kinda' like I'd been kidnapped? Drawin' a blank on why my kidnapper would be rawdoggin' me, maybe you can come up with somethin'?" He queried hopefully.Â
You furrowed your brow in thought, going silent as you carefully considered the hodgepodge of contributing factors. "Oh, I think I can manage."
...
This deck had been rigged from the start. In theory, you knew that he knew that. Still, he was certainly acting like it stung his pride a bit that he'd fallen into your 'trap' so cleanly.Â
Everything was going according to plan.Â
Whiskey struggled against the binds that secured him to the kitchen chair. His whip was safely confiscated. Lasso out of reach. Hat was still on his head. He had specifications, after all.Â
You left him to wriggle for almost half an hour while you got yourself ready. The man was a secret agent, after all. If he hadn't been restrained for much longer than that at any given point you would be very surprised.Â
You finally opened the bathroom door, sauntering out into the cabin's small kitchenette. "Miss me, love?" You crooned, committing to your role as villainous vamp stereotype number six. You had worn a plain set of underwear and an oversized white t-shirt, soft and see-through from the amount of times it had been washed. You got the feeling that if you went more elaborate, you might scare Whiskey off or make him too uncomfortable to really get into it. This scene was all about trust, and he hardly knew you. But he had sought you out for this. All you had to do was follow through.
"Was beginnin' to worry that you forgot about me, ma'am." The agent drawled back, his smile tightly sardonic and his low voice curling hot in your belly. "You fixin' to untie me yet?"
You clicked your tongue, the noise disappointed. "Whiskey, sweetheart, where's the fun in that? If I untie you, you'll just kill me."
"Can't blame a man for tryin'." Jack was absolutely in his element right now. He looked furious.Â
You ambled around behind him, slinging your arms around his neck and resting your weight on him briefly. "Remember," you murmured in his ear. "If you need me to slow down, or need to stop entirely, you say�"
"Second, first and neutral." The agent replied readily. You patted his cheek.
"Good boy." You praised.Â
"Ain't my first rodeo." Whiskey's tongue darted out nervously to wet his lips and you wanted to reassure him, but you knew you had a job to do.
"Now, can I get you a light refreshment? Something to drink? Maybe some chips?" You offered, moving to the small refrigerator that you had stocked a little earlier in the day. Planning was imperative for engagements like this. "I have water, sweet tea, CokeâŠ"
"Dammit woman, stop beatin' around the bush! Why the hell do you have me hogtied to this damn chair?!" Jack erupted.Â
"So rude." You chided him, removing a water for yourself and then leaning casually against the counter. "You really want to know, Mr. Whiskey?"
"Obviously." He scowled.
"Well be a patient boy and maybe I'll tell you." You hummed, not making eye contact as you unscrewed the cap on the water bottle. "It was more than enough trouble for me to get you here in the first place, big shot. Don't rush me."
"Listen, I'll be the first to tell you that I probably ain't who you're lookin' for." He said bluntly. "I'm just a simple liquor tycoon, nothin' more."
"Mr. Whiskey, if you continue to insult my intelligence maybe I will decide I've got the wrong man. And then I'll just get rid of you." You swirled the water in the bottle, fixing him with a thoughtful look.Â
"You're talkin' a mighty big game, woman." Jack grumbled.Â
You sloshed some of the water on your thin white shirt as if by accident, and began daubing at the gauzy fabric aimlessly. "Whiskey-"
"It's Jack." He spat.
"Oh, we're on a first name basis? How exciting!" You teased him, laughing when he muttered angrily under his breath. He was clearly enjoying the role of 'belligerent definitely-not-a-spy'. "Alright then, Jack. I won't beat around the bush, as you so tactfully put it."
"Hallelujah, some goddamn cooperation." He replied in a sulky tone.
"So, Jack, I need you to come inside me. Strictly so I can bypass Statesman's biomechanical security systems. It's nothing personal, I just assumed you would be the easiest target, you know?" You remarked with a shrug. "The flirty cowboy with the filthy mouth." He stared at you and you raised an eyebrow, half-convinced that his reaction was legitimate. "What? You do have a reputation."
"I hate to break it to ya', but you got the wrong beverage. You're lookin' for Tequila, ma'am." Jack retorted, his voice a little raspy. "You want...what?"
"I need you to come inside me so I can use the your genetic signature to bypass the security." Granted, you were pretty certain that Statesman used exclusively fingerprints, retina scans and time locks, but Whiskey had told you to weave a good story for the setup, not necessarily an accurate one.
Jack swallowed hard. "You've got bats in your fuckin' belfry, woman. You expect me to-"
"Oh no, that's the beauty of this arrangement." You interrupted him, still smiling. "I don't expect you to do anything aside from sit there and stay still while I ride you."Â
"Jesus fuck woman, you--shit, isn't there some other way to do this? I ain't keen on the prospect, but if there's literally any other wayâŠ"Â
"Sorry. This is the only solution that my superiors could get behind." You sighed, feigning regret. "And we might be here a while, from what I've heard." Jack's eyes darted to yours and he flushed, working his jaw. "Don't look so glum! I'm one of the best in my field. I'm sure I'll be able to compensate for your...lack of investment."
"You touch me and I swear to God-"
"Ah ah, naughty boys get gagged." You threatened gently, walking your fingers up the side of his face to stroke them back down his jawline. Jack glared at you, his dark gaze fairly luminous with fury and maybe just a touch of poorly-veiled interest. "Be a good boy and I'll let you talk as much as you want. Maybe I'll even let you play with my tits, hmm?" You asked, cupping your breasts through your still-damp shirt. "Would you like that, love?"
"IâŠ" Jack trailed off, then snapped his eyes back up from your chest. "No!"
You tapped his nose, winking. "Oh I think you would. Don't be so stubborn, Jack." You cocked your head to the side. "No one from Statesman even knows you're gone. No one is coming to rescue you." You informed him, all the playfulness evaporated from your voice. "You're mine now, Jack. My own personal key-card."
"You won't get away with this." Jack snarled.
"I think I already have." You knelt between his legs, running your hands over the jeans that covered his thighs. He squirmed, trying to dislodge you, but you just moved with him. You dug your nails into his thighs. "You keep wiggling and I'm going to have to tighten the ropes, Jack. Is that what you want?"
"Oh you filthy fuckin' woman, you absolute bitch, let me go!"Â
"Hmm," you tapped your chin as he kept jerking and straining against the knots. "No."Â
Jack froze when your fingers unbuttoned the button at the top of his fly. "Now wait, wait just a damn minute, y-you can't--" he tried to plead.
"Oh I can. And I will." You looked up at him. "As long as we're in the right gear?"
"Sixth, sixth." He affirmed, flashing you a quick smile. You nodded and seamlessly resumed your play.
The zipper of his fly opened devastatingly slow, the agent exhaling raggedly when you pulled up his shirt and palmed his groin gently through the fabric of his boxer briefs. His cock was already half-hard, and you pointed that out with a mean little smirk on your face. "Oh no, looks like someone's interested." You crooned, rubbing your index finger over the head of his still-clothed dick.
"Fuck off, you...y-you-" he swore, rolling his shoulders as if he was testing his bonds. "You little bitch."
"Temper temper." You chided, ducking your head down to mouth over the fabric of his boxers. Jack gasped out another swear over your head, his hips twitching up to meet you before he slammed them back down. "Methinks someone doth protest too much." You snorted, splaying your fingers on the newly-revealed skin of his stomach. "We could make this so much simpler if you would just give in, Jack." You didn't miss the way his skin jumped at your touch, and you smiled against his boxers.
"You'll--you'll have to do better than that." Whiskey breathed. "You think just any ol' woman can get me up?"
You stood, leaning in close and pressing your mouth to his ear. His whole body flinched when you wrapped your fingers around his cock and gave him a nice, slow stroke. "Oh, poor thing. You must believe you're really special, hmm? God's gift to mankind every time you take someone to bed." You mocked, your teeth and tongue laving over his earlobe. "We're all so lucky to have you, Jack."
"Hhn-" Jack's shoulders went stiff, the man obviously biting his tongue.Â
"You don't have a choice, sweetheart. I'm going to get you hard. Then, I'm going to use your cock. And all you have to do, my lovely, handsome cowboy, is come inside me." You informed him, drawing a finger beneath his chin. "More than once, preferably."
"I'm not usually a man to voice my own shortcomin's, but I must warn you that this will be a futile-" Whiskey's words hitched in his throat when you stroked him again. "Fuck, no, don't touch me like that, you--"
"Stop playing hard to get, Jack." You murmured, slinking your free hand up the back of his neck to massage his scalp right beneath the band of his hat. "Give up."
"Never." He hissed even as his head lolled forward, granting you more access to rub his neck.Â
"Pity." You settled back down between his legs and wrapped your lips around his cock.Â
"No, no, dammit-" Whiskey growled, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Don't you fuckin'...no, no, don't use your tongue the-ah f-uck--" His protest died in a pitiful groan when his cock met the back of your throat. "Oh, you--fuckin'--you've got to be shittin' me woman, the whole-?" He grunted out haphazardly as you relaxed your throat and took him all the way down to the base. "You think y-you can take advantage of me jus' cuz' it's been a while since I got laid? Fuck you."
You hummed around his cock, wanting to giggle when he twitched and swore loudly. Your fingers dove past the hem of your underwear, and you moaned against him as you ran your index in slow, steady circles around your clit.Â
"I ain't fuckin' you, and I sure as shit am not gonna' come in your pussy." Jack snarled.Â
"Oh yes you are." You sang, rising to your feet and slipping your panties off. The white t-shirt came next, baring your breasts to the air-conditioned environment.Â
Jack seemed to forget that he was supposed to be vehemently against this yet again as he just...watched while you teased your nipples. You tugged at the taut peaks, rolling them between your fingers and making a show out of the whole bit.Â
"I can't wait to have you inside me, filling me up, just pumping me full of your come." You said with a smile, sauntering over until you would be in reach if his hands were free. Jack's tongue made a nervous reappearance and you tugged his chin upwards so you could see his eyes. "Are we still in gear? Or do we need to shift?" You asked. He seemed slightly dazed.
"Oh! Uh, sorry, s-sixth." He stammered. "Sixth, holy shit."
"Mm. Don't disappoint me and maybe I'll let you live." You remarked smoothly, swinging one leg over his lap and straddling him. Jack's shoulders were rigid again and you kneaded at them surreptitiously, trying your best to keep him in the scene and out of his own head.
You were well on your way to soaking wet with arousal. There was nothing better than when you had a partner that trusted you, regardless of whether you had truly earned that trust. Just the fact that they had blind faith in you to execute the endeavor that they needed...it was heady and sweet and you loved every second.Â
You rutted your pussy against the underside of Jack's cock, the man snapping his teeth at the sensation. "Too good?" You taunted, laughing when he swore again.
"I can't believe that you think I'm fuckin' enjoyin' th--look, any dick perks up at heavy pet-"Â
Cutting Whiskey off mid-sentence was quickly becoming a favorite pastime, you realized as you angled your hips and let the head of his cock push past your pussy lips. "In, just a little, give you a taste, sweetheartâŠ" you sighed, rocking your hips forward and back but not allowing him to sink any deeper into you. "There, that's not so bad, is it?" You cajoled as he shuddered beneath you. "Just keep being good, my sweet cowboy, and this will all be over so much sooner."Â
"No, no-" He struggled to move, to do anything, but you had made certain to tie him exactly as he had specified. "Dammit, when I get free of here, I'll--"
"Shh, you think too much." You tapped your index finger to his lips, smoothing it over the bristle of his mustache. "Focus on your job right now, and everything will be fine."Â
Jack turned his face away, inadvertently presenting the thick column of his neck to you. And you, channeling your inner villain, leaped at the opportunity to lick and bite at the bared skin. He made a strange noise, a combination of a moan and a whine that had you raising an eyebrow.Â
"Is someone a little sensitive there?"Â
"No, I am not." He answered through gritted teeth. "I hate that you're touchin' me, that's all!"
"Hmm, it doesn't sound like you hate it." You mused, suckling gently at the spot where his jaw met his throat. You were very careful not to leave marks, as that had been another specification. Whiskey struggled underneath you again, only succeeding in pumping his cock up into you slightly.
"Don't, don't--" His voice actually cracked and you smiled, nuzzling your nose beneath his jawline and letting his dick settle deeper.
"Oh no, it seems like you do want to fuck me after all." You shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back and stroking over the base of his cock with two fingers. "Warming up to the idea of being my little fuck toy, Jack?" You teased, noting the way his knuckles whitened from his grip on the rope and his Adam's apple bobbed with the force of his convulsive swallow at your words. "I could just keep you here like this forever, you know. All tied up, helpless for meâŠ" You squeezed the base of his cock and he gasped, trying to stifle the noise. "Soon, I'd have you trained so that you couldn't come from any other pussy aside from mine. Wouldn't that be fun?"Â
Without waiting for an answer, you let the last few inches of his dick enter you. You leaned back on his thighs, feeling the muscles coil and strain beneath your touch as you reached down and grazed your clit. You could feel the heat of his gaze on you, those brown eyes fixated on the motions of your fingers even as his cock split you open. You were grateful that he was secured, you weren't sure if you would have been able to take him otherwise. His cock curved thickly against your back wall, the engorged head throbbing back and forth over the area that made your whole body shudder in delight.Â
Whiskey's jaw was taut, his shoulders set in a rigid line that made you ache to get him to come undone in you.
"You're so quiet." You pouted, raising your hand and brushing your wet index finger over his slack lower lip. "Aren't you having a good time?"
His chest abruptly expanded, like he had forgotten to breathe for a moment or two. "Fuck you." Whiskey seethed, making you chuckle softly. "I ain't nobody's goddamn fuck toy."
"Sweetheart," you chided as you sat up. "That's not a very nice thing to say to the person warming your cock right now." You deliberately clenched down on him and Jack swore under his breath, shaking his head. "I can make you feel so good, Whiskey, if you just give me what I want." You insisted, cupping his face and pulling halfway off of his cock.Â
"N-N...No." He replied weakly.
You sighed, rolling your eyes and shaking out your shoulders. "Well, I tried." Your hands landed on his shoulders and you gripped down to steady yourself, your hips meeting his own with a wet slap! of skin. Jack's chest heaved, his eyes closed and head tilted back as you began to ride him roughly. "All I wanted was for you to come in me. I don't feel like that's asking for much!" You complained petulantly, rolling your hips against his when he was hilted in you with an agonizingly slow grind of your body.
Jack bit out a low "fuck," those tense shoulders trembling under your touch. You tucked your face into his neck to tease the sensitive area even more, your tongue tracing random patterns that made him squirm and writhe underneath you. "I don't--can't, can't, don't make me--" he tried to protest, his words fractured and pitiful.Â
"Yes you can, and you're going to." You snapped, taking a handful of hair at the nape of his neck so you could urge his head back further, leaving his throat at your mercy. "You're coming in me, Jack! Give up!"
...
"First!" He choked out, and you immediately slowed to a crawl. Your touch on him gentled significantly, no longer demanding but cradling, caressing.Â
"Easy, easy." You soothed, the unrelenting assault of your perfect hips gone to a slow and careful rhythm, back and forth like a porch swing in the summer heat. Your eyes searched his own, concern shining through.
Jack was speechless, his blind panic melting away at the sound of your regular voice. What the hell just happened? He licked his lips, only now realizing how dry they had gotten. "Sorry, I uh-"
"No apologies." You murmured. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Would you like to stop now?"
Whiskey took a long moment, running a mental check on his body. Nothing was sore, nothing seemed out of line. Everything was raring to go.Â
Everything aside from his brain, that is. The damn thing wouldn't stop conjuring up scenes of you pregnant and everything going to absolute fucking shit. It didn't matter that he had zero attachment to you, it didn't matter that you were on birth control. This was how it always was.Â
Every damn time things got serious with a new interest, "oh, let's start a family," Whiskey just wanted to curl up into a ball. Without fail, like clockwork, he would shut down.Â
And then the accusations would start, the distrust, "How come you can do it with protection but not without?" and it was disheartening, crushing to go through again and again. Explaining didn't seem to do a lick of good, it was always just that he was stringing people along, that he was a damn selfish prick, that he didn't care about what his partner wanted.
That couldn't be further from the truth, of course, but maybe that was his own fault for not dropping the bomb before getting attached to someone. He just couldn't ever seem to justify asking a person on their second or third date, "hey so what's your thoughts on having kids?" It felt manipulative, cheap, and if he was being honest, he knew for a fact that sometimes just the idea of having children was enough to scare a potential interest off.Â
You were the first person to try and help Jack really wrap his head around this whole issue. And yeah, that was the whole point in sussing you out, butâŠ
Tequila didn't tell him that you actually gave a shit, or at least you were damn good at acting like you did. Whiskey bit his lip. "I'm okay." He said finally, trying for a smile.
"Anything chafing? Do you need some water?"
"IâŠ" Jack trailed off. "Huh, I admit I am a bit parched. But that means you'd have to get up." He realized unhappily.
"Were you enjoying yourself?" You asked, sounding curious.Â
Whiskey got the hysterical idea in his head of you pulling out some sort of satisfaction survey at the end of your engagement, the notion making him smirk slightly. "God, yeah. I...yeah." He flushed a little bit. "Dunno' if I ever got this far afterâŠafter all my mental hangups and stuff. The fact that I don't have a say in the matter seems to be helpin', though."
"Okay, don't go anywhere. I'll get you some water." You patted his thigh, cautiously settling your feet on the floor and then going to stand with a quivery little gasp that absolutely stroked his ego.
Jack couldn't help his own groan at the loss of your heat, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Damn it woman, has anyone ever told you that your pussy is fuckin' perfect?" He muttered, his usual honeyed words suddenly clumsy in his mouth. "I mean, hell."
You laughed, bending over to dig in the small fridge for another water. Whiskey felt his entire body throb at the sight of you presenting yourself to him like that, and he sucked in a breath at your obvious teasing. Even in the soft light of the kitchen, he could see the glisten of the wetness between your legs. Hell yes, he found himself thinking stupidly as you turned back around.Â
"I'm just glad that you're doing alright. That's the most important part to me, after all." You assured him, unscrewing the cap on the water and tipping it to his lips.
Jack gulped greedily, feeling a few droplets escape his mouth and run down his neck to blot his collar. "I am. One hundred percent." He said firmly after he had slaked his thirst. "Let's keep goin'."
"If you're sure, absolutely." You acquiesced, smiling again. Placing the water bottle on the kitchen table, you then swung your leg over his thighs like you were vaulting back into the saddle. Jack held his breath, waiting for you to welcome his cock back into your body. And God he was so hard, he couldn't remember ever being this hard, what the hell--
But strangely, you didn't immediately resume from where you had left off. Instead, you put your arms around his neck and actually rested your forehead against his own, bumping his hat upwards.Â
Jack swallowed roughly, confused.Â
"Let me take this from you." You whispered. Whiskey felt pinned by your stare, he felt as if you could see every terrible thing he had ever done, every transgression laid bare under the weight of your gaze. "Let go of it. I have you. I won't let anything happen to you."Â
The words washed over him, soft and sweet. Your fingers slipped up into the hair at the nape of his neck to toy with the mussed ends that lurked there. The whole exchange was oddly intimate and Jack found himself at a loss yet again, simply grating out, "sixth," when he couldn't come up with anything else to say.
You reached down and stroked his cock, rubbing the head of it against your clit. And Jesus he could feel you, the difference in heat, the slick--
"Are you gonna' take it from me, sweet girl?" He hissed through his teeth like it wounded him to ask, trying desperately to cling to the illusion that he wasn't willing. "Take everythin' I've got?"
The blur between reality and this playdate was getting messier by the second. He wanted to fuck you, wanted to bury himself in you, spend every last drop inside the hot embrace of your quivering cunt. He wanted that. Jesus Christ, this wasn't part of the bargain.
This was a pantomime, specially designed pornography that existed only to coax a very specific reaction from his confused body. So why did he wish he had met you years ago? Why was he suddenly hoping and praying that the sounds you were making were legitimate instead of exclusively for his benefit, hoping that you were also enjoying this?
You angled your hips and sank back down on his lap, your hands going to your breasts where you proceeded to fondle and tease them until your nipples looked like they ached.
Whiskey fucking ached himself to wrap his lips around one pert little peak, swirl his tongue across the tip and make you come undone, rut his dick up into you until you cried out his name and soaked him--
Whoa cowboy, he chastised himself, a little startled by how sharp the longing was. You just kept fucking yourself on his cock, that hot, wet little pussy molded perfectly to every ridge of his member and he had never been this hard, this ready in his life. Despite the air conditioning in the cabin, your skin shone with sweat from all the work you were putting in and Whiskey couldn't recall a time where he had been more appreciative of someone else accomplishing a task within his field of vision.
Your hand slipped down, down, and Jack found himself following the trajectory until it delved between your legs and you started playing with yourself. "Jack," you crooned his name and it was like a prayer, reverent and soft, tender enough to coil itself around his lungs and choke him to death without a whisper of protest. You parted your legs even wider in his lap, exposing yourself to him so he could watch his cock slide in and out of you, so he could see himself fucking you open.
"Are you gonna' come for me, sweet girl?" He gasped, craning his neck and managing to tilt his head so he could mutter into your ear, "you just gonna' wrench one out for me, beautiful?"
"Mm, no, I'm not coming until after you come." You whimpered, still moving your hand. "But I'm so close, Jack. I want to come."
Your plaintive whine had him ablaze. God, he had never wanted to please someone so damn badly in his life. "I know you do, sweet girl." He murmured huskily, exhaling hot over the shell of your ear and loving the way you quivered in his lap. "You're so good, lettin' me blow my load before you get off--gonna' pump me dry when you come, aren't you? Just keep me inside you until that little pussy is all fucked out," he growled, barely aware of the words that tumbled from his mouth.Â
All he knew is that you were all a-tremble at his voice, your body as hot as late July against his chest, your eyes heavy with adoration that he did not deserve and God, he couldn't get used to that look even if it was fake. What if you stayed? he wondered absently. What if you stayed?
Oh fuck, he was about to come. Panic jabbed like the blade of a knife between his shoulder blades and Whiskey went silent, his teeth bearing down on his lower lip and his eyes slamming shut as he focused harder than he ever had in his life.
The smell of you, the sounds, the heat, the little spasms of your cunt around his cockâŠ
Yes. Yes, God yes, he could do this--Â
"Come in me, sweetheart." Begging him, pleading, demanding, "Jack-!" You cried his name.
Whiskey groaned hoarsely, so low it was almost painful, and let go. He bucked his hips up against you as best as he could, minute little thrusts while he came harder than he had in years. "Oh," he snarled, gritting his teeth, "fuckin' Christ woman, I think you've ruined me, Jesus fuck."
Your hands threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck again and you held him, not tightly, but just enough to keep him steady, anchored. "There," you said abruptly, the snide, put-upon tone of your role contrasting wildly with the gentleness of your touch, "was that so difficult?"
Jack burst out laughing, not overly concerned with how strange of a reaction that was. Hell, was he relieved? "Jesus fuckin' Christ, you're great." He remarked breathlessly. "I don't even know what just happened."
"Oh?" You replied, raising an eyebrow. "The mess between my legs seems to allude to you possibly having an orgasm. Jury's still out though."
He grimaced apologetically, glancing down. "Sorry darlin'. It's been a while, y'know?" You rose up off of him again and he grunted as his cock slipped free from your body. Whiskey felt half-drunk, relief and release combining into a potent cocktail that left him boneless in the chair.Â
You quickly put your shirt back on and then crouched at his feet, beginning the arduous process of untying him. Jack just sat there, watching you drowsily. He couldn't do much else, really. "Any numbness or chafing?" You asked quietly, stirring him momentarily from his daze.
"Nah, nothin' yet." He replied, straightening his freed left leg and rotating his ankle in his boot. "A little stiff, but I've survived worse than that."Â
"And how do you feel?" You questioned, "physically and emotionally."
Jack gnawed at his lower lip, trying to force his sluggish brain past the haze of serotonin in order to give you a satisfactory answer. "...good." He said finally, scrambling to elaborate, "or uh, better, I guess. More okay than I've been in a fuckin' while." It wasn't a lie, he was surprised to discover. He hadn't actually put much stock into this endeavor, figuring it would be a fun little diversion that would end just like every other time. Of course, it didn't hurt that you were easy on the eyes, prettier than a peach if he was being honest with himself.
Your smile was bright and Jack's stomach knotted confusingly. "I'm glad."
His right leg was released and he shifted his weight in the seat, groaning happily when his hip popped. "Hey, wait." The agent belatedly realized, "you didn't-?"
"We were here for you." You reminded him. "Not me."
"Whoa now, that don't seem fair at all!" Whiskey protested, taken aback by your nonchalance. "You just put in all the work!"
Your laugh tripped down his spine like an aftershock. "Don't get bent out of shape! It's standard policy, Mr. Whiskey. Once the desired result of the scene has been acquired, the scene ends and I start with aftercare."
"B-But--you didn't get to get off though!"Â
"Me 'getting off' wasn't specified in our planning."Â
"I needed to specify that shit?! I figured you'd just kinda'..." His right arm was free now and Jack seized the opportunity to make a certain gesture, raising his eyebrows. "I mean, I was at your mercy!" He continued, bewildered. "You totally coulda' just kept goin'-"
"Yes, and that's exactly why when the desired result has been achieved, the scene ends." You interjected firmly. "Because you trusted me enough to let me take control, and I'm not about to break that trust by doing something selfish on a whim."
Jack exhaled hard, scooting his hat a little further back on his head so he could study you. You didn't look disappointed, or annoyed with him. He wondered how many times you had fielded ignorant questions like his own and he cringed at himself. "I'm...shit, I'm sorry. I don't have any right to be all shitty about it." He apologized as you moved out of his field of view to untie the rope securing him to the back of the chair. "I just feel like you worked so hard an' got nothin' out of your end of the bargain."
"It's sweet of you to be concerned about that, but don't take it personally, okay?" You assured him, "I do this because I enjoy it. The whole experience, not just the finale." The ropes around his chest sagged and Jack slid forward a bit in the seat, relaxing.Â
"Can I get that water again? Christ, I need a cigarette and a tumbler of the strong stuff after all that." He joked, clumsily tucking his cock back into his boxers. You pressed the bottle to his hands and he nearly dropped it, chuckling self-consciously. "Whups, sorry. I had my fists all bunched up so my fingers are stiff." Jack proceeded to down the rest of the bottle, wiping his mouth and mustache with the back of his hand after the fact. "So...what exactly is it you do for Tequila?" He queried nosily.
You laughed at him and God, God he loved the sound of your laugh. "That, Mr. Whiskey, is on a need-to-know basis. Just like this little soiree between the two of us." You chided, your eyes bright with good humor. "I would never violate a partner's trust in me."
Jack tipped the bottle in your direction, as if making a toast. "I'll drink to that, partner. What's next on the menu?"
"We'll talk out the scene and wind back down. Get cleaned up. I'll probablyâŠ" you paused, squinting at the clock over the sink. "You want some pizza? There's a joint not far from here that serves pies and chicken wings until midnight."
Jack groaned appreciatively, "I knew you were my kinda' gal. Lead the way to the debrief, ma'am."
It didn't really matter in the long run, he supposed. You obviously weren't interested in anything serious (if only because he figured that your flings with the stereotypical 'bad boy' Tequila would have become more regular in spite of the younger man's painful crush on Ginger Ale), and he could respect that. Still though, he couldn't help feeling a touch morose over the possibility of never engaging with you again.Â
He toyed with the idea of asking you for another 'appointment', but dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it arrived. Better to quit while he was ahead.
Or rather, he amended ruefully as he settled down across from you in the diner booth, his hair still damp and curling slightly beneath his hat from the quick wash he had indulged in at your cabin, better to quit now before I make even more of a fool of myself.
Part Two
#jack daniels#jack daniels x reader#agent whiskey#agent whiskey x reader#kingsman: the golden circle#Pedro Pascal#pedro pascal character#agent whiskey imagine#consensual noncon#whew where did this come from#enjoy!#working things out
346 notes
·
View notes
Text
The New World; Series, Pt 4.
okay this one is definitely longer than the others but I just kept writing. Things get a little more heated in this chapter ngl. I rushed through the first part a bit, Iâm kinda assuming weâve all seen season one so everyone gets the gist of this part.
TW, Shane is a dick in this and starts to get a little too close
Warnings: Swearing, Angst but it gets real fluffy.Â
Word Count; 3175 - sorry in advance, I skimmed through reading it so if there are any grammatical errors, my bad.
Okay so this is my first time writing a fic and obviously will be my first series but Iâve just rewatched TWD for like the 17th time and my obsession with Daryl has reached new levels. I hope that it isnât too shit and that you guys actually read/like it. Thank you in advance for baring with my average writing but I mean, how else will I learn? Anyway, enjoy!
Sonia x
pt 4 of ??Â
The events of the day that followed your night encounter with Daryl went by quickly. Between watching Andrea mourn the death of her sister while the rest of you grieved for the people you lost, you felt the day slipping away fast. Finding out about Jim being bitten broke your heart and before you knew it, you were packing your life away yet again and preparing to head to the CDC.
You crammed your camping gear in the back of Shaneâs car along with your bags, walking over to your group when you heard Morales say that he and his family were not going to the CDC with you, he had to do what was best for his family and you understood that. You all said your good byes as you headed towards your cars.
âY/N, you can ride with me if ya want.â You heard Shane say and you nodded. Your stuff was already in his car, you may as well.
âThanks, Shane.â
Daryl shot you a look that you couldnât quite comprehend as you jumped in the passenger side of Shaneâs car. He scoffed and rolled his eyes, stepping into his pick up truck and slamming the door shut as you all began driving away, towards what you hoped was safety.
The RV came to a halt in front of the convoy, smoke and steam spilling out of the front. Jacqui interrupted everyone with news about Jimâs state. Shane said he was going to head up to what he thought looked like a gas station while rick stepped inside the RV to see Jim. He came out soon after breaking the news to you all that Jim wanted to be left here to die.
âHe said he wanted to be with his family.â
Tears formed in your eyes as you thought about leaving the man who had become a dear friend.
The group decided to do what Jim had asked. Shane and Rick helped place him gently under a tree as you all stood around him and shared one final moment. You walked up to Jim and kissed him carefully on the forehead, caressing his hair one final time, forcing yourself to look into his eyes as you said good bye.
You watched as Daryl simply nodded to the man and you all made your way back to your cars, ready to continue the journey you had started.
After a while, the CDC finally came into view, you all slowly got out of your vehicles, hands on weapons as you hastily made your way to the entrance. Walkers were strewed across the ground, the smell of decaying bodies filling the air making you gag repeatedly. Shane and Rick began bashing on the front of the CDC roller door as walkers started approaching.
You began pacing, looking for ways to get in to the building when you looked up at the camera as it moved.
âThe camera, it moved.â You heard Rick say
Dale was quick to respond âYou imagined it.â
You backed Rick up âNo, I saw it move too. It moved.â
Walkers started approaching quickly, threatening the groups safety. While Shane attempted to convince Rick to leave the CDC you started bashing on the door, yelling at the camera.
âI know youâre in there, let us in!â
Rick joined in, bashing on the roller, âI know you can hear me, please, weâre desperate.â
More walkers began pacing towards you while there was still no answer.
Shane started dragging Rick away while he was yelling.
âYouâre killing us, youâre killing us!â
And then the light shone upon you. The doors opened emitting the brightest light you have ever seen. You all froze.
You followed Rickâs lead and stepped in cautiously, guns raised. A man rounded the corner, gun aimed at you all.
âAnybody infected?â
âOne of our group was, he didnât make it.â
âWhy are you here, what do you want?â
âA chance.â
The only thing the man asked of you was to submit to a blood test which made you feel sick. Walkers, they were scary but you could handle them. Needles, now thatâs where you drew the line. Rick looked at you when he remembered your fear. You locked eyes with him and then you looked around, it was the first time that you had walls surrounding you in a long time and if a needle was what would allow you to have that safety again, you would do it. You looked back at Rick and nodded.
âWe can do that.â
âYou got stuff to bring in you do it now, once that door closes it stays closed.â
You grabbed your bags from the cars and ran back inside, allowing yourself to finally take a breath. You heard the man say his name was Dr Jenner as you followed him into the main room. Rick asked the question that you were all thinking. Where were the other doctors? Jenner replied saying that he was the only one left.
Your leg started bouncing up and down while you sat and waited for your turn to have your blood test. You felt a wave of nausea over come you, your head became heavier and you felt like you were about to pass out. Jenner called you up and your knees became weak, you braced for your fall but Shane caught you.
âWoah there, donât go fallinâ for me.â
You chuckled, âAinât gonna be that easy, thanks for catching me.â
âYa still scared of needles?â He asked while linking his arm around your back and leading you towards Jenner.
âNever got over the fear, still scares the shit out of me.â
He gently placed you on the chair and asked Jenner if he had a smaller needle or something to help you calm down. You looked up at him in surprise at how kind he was being right now.
Jenner reached for the butterfly needles and proceeded to set it up, as he grabbed your arm, you subconsciously reached for Shaneâs hand and squeezed it slightly, looking into his eyes as Jenner pushed the needle into your arm.
âThanks, Shane.â
âDonât worry about it.â
Daryl was forced to sit there and watch the entire interaction between you and Shane, seething at every word that came out of Shaneâs mouth. His heart tightening when you were returning the affection towards him and when you grabbed Shaneâs hand his heart broke. That should have been him comforting you but no one knew about the night the two of you had, no one knew about the feelings you shared and now he wasnât sure if you were even telling the truth.
Jenner led you all to the dining area, food graced the table and Jenner even brought out a few bottles of wine and other alcohols. You all laughed like never before. Telling each other stories, relaxing more and more as the alcohol set in. You were on your third glass of wine, glancing occasionally at Daryl who was drinking straight from the bottle. You wondered why he hadnât spoken to you since last night and why he looked so angry every time your eyes crossed paths.
Shane brought everyones mood down instantly when he began questioning the doctor about where all the other staff had gone. You just sat and listened while Jenner explained everything, including the way that some of the doctors âopted out.â
Jenner began taking you through the halls as he explained that most of the rooms had couches but there were some beds available, all though some people may have to share rooms. There was also a rec room down the hall filled with books which made you extremely happy.
âIf you shower, go easy on the hot water.â
Those words were like music to your ears, shower, hot water. Things you always took for granted in the previous world.
You walked past a few of the rooms that were already taken, Glenn and T-dogg sharing one, Lori, Carl and Rick in another when suddenly Shane stopped you.
âYou can share a room with me if youâd like.â You looked up as Daryl walked past and saw the sudden look of hurt flash across his eyes.
âThatâs okay Shane, thanks for the offer.â
You chased quickly after Daryl after he had turned into a room that had a double bed, he threw his bag on top and then threw himself next to it. You knocked on the door quietly and he shot up.
âThe hell do ya want?â
The sudden burst of anger had your chest aching.
âExcuse me?â
âYa heard me, what the hell are ya doinâ in here?â
âI was coming to ask if you wanted to share a room, you know, after last night and all.â
He scoffed at you âLast night was a mistake.â
And there it was, you felt yourself grow angry at his words but you knew this was what he did, he pushed people away to make himself feel less attached.
âWhat did you just say?â
He stood up from the bed now, stomping over to you, his face inches away from yours. âI said, last night was a fuckinâ mistake.â
âThats bullshit Daryl Dixon and you know it.â
âI meant what I said.â
âFuck you.â It came out as barely a whisper but it was enough for him to hear it, tears started uncontrollably streaming down your face as you wiped them away quickly but they fell too fast for your sleeves to stop them.
Daryl looked at you crying and felt his heart break even more. To think that he was the reason for your crying broke him. âMâ sorry.â
âNo, fuck you, you donât get to apologise just like that. You donât get to say that last night was a mistake when you know it wasnât. You told me how you felt, you expect me to think that just went away over night.â
He went to reach for your arm but you smacked his hand away. âAre you kidding me, donât try and touch me, donât try and comfort me, just tell me why youâre fucking acting like this.â
âYa should be with Shane, not me.â He couldnât stop himself from blurting it out.
âWhat?â
âYa deserve someone better, like Shane. Heâd treat ya better than I ever could.â
âWhat in the world makes you think that?â
âI saw the way he was helpinâ ya before, I didnât even know ya were scared of needles.â
âDaryl, I donât like Shane, I like you.â
âNaw, ya just sayinâ that, just like ya said all that shit last night, ya didnât mean it.â You could see the pain in his eyes when he forced himself to speak his worries.
âI meant every word and Iâll say it again. I like you Daryl, Iâve liked you since the day I met you. Seeing you walk into our camp with your brother, I knew you would be a pain in my ass and I was right but God, I wouldnât change that for the world. I know you like me too, I know youâre scared to admit how much you like me, but I know you do.â
He just stared at you, his eyes flicking between your eyes and your lips until slowly he reached up and pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. âYa know Iâm not good with words but can I, uhâŠâ
âYes.â
With your permission he leant down and kissed your lips, so gently that you could hardly feel him, your hands reached behind his head, entangling in his hair and pulling him in closer, deepening the kiss.
After a short while of staying in that moment you pulled away from him to look in his eyes, your hands staying in his hair.
âDo you believe me now?â
He just nodded and leaned his forehead against yours.
âWill ya stay with me tonight? Iâll take the couch. Ya can have the bed.â
You chuckled slightly pressing another gentle kiss to his lips before completely stepping back. He watched in confusion as you walked away into the hall, leaving him standing there alone, only to return with your bag in your hand, putting it down on the couch. His eyes grew brighter when he understood that you were staying.
âWe can both stay in the bed but God I need a showerâŠAnd so do you.â
âNah, ya heard what Jenner said, there ainât much hot water, ya go and have a shower, Iâll wait here.â
âDaryl Dixon, I am not sleeping in a bed with you if youâre dirty, youâre just gonna have to shower with me.â
His heart raced at your words, his cheeks flushing red and then he remembered his scars and you saw the panic set into his face.
âYou can face me the whole time, I promise I wonât make you do anything youâre not comfortable with.â You walked closer to him, grabbing his hands and slowly pulling him towards the bathroom. He allowed you to lead him.
You turned the water on and let out a small squeal of joy when you felt the hot water hit your hand, this earned a small smile from Daryl. You slowly removed your shirt, then your pants as you watched Daryl struggle to figure out where he should be looking. You laughed softly at the awkwardness of this man which drew his eyes back to you, the tips of his ears turning red. He began chewing his thumb as you pulled off the rest of your clothes and stepped into the shower, relishing in the hot water, something you didnât realise you had been craving for so long.
âWhenever youâre ready, only if youâre comfortable.â
You heard him undo his belt and a minute later he was stepping into the shower with you. You pulled him carefully under the water and watched as the dirt began to discolour the floor beneath you. You placed your hands gently on the sides of his face, pulling him into a slow kiss, breaking away moments later. You reached for the shampoo behind you and put some in your hands as you reached up to his dirty hair and began to wash the dirt away, watching as Darylâs face softened and his eyes closed at the feeling.
âHold your head up while I rinse, I donât want to get it in your eyes.â
He tilted his head up and let the water wash the soap out of his hair, you couldnât help but smile at how relaxed he was in this moment, because of you. No one had ever cared for him this much.
He slowly put his head back down, looking at you before he placed his hands on your waist and pulled you into him, burying his head in the crook of your neck, letting the water wash over the both of you. Your hands found his hair as you played with his wet locks until you were both ready to get out.
You got out first so you could pass him a towel to cover his back. He took it from you nodding as you dried yourself off and began to dress in some clean pyjamas. He pulled on some loose pants and one of his tanks before making his way into the room that you were both sharing. He laid down on one side of the bed, covering his eyes with his arm.
âIâm gonna go and check out the book collection, Iâll be back.â
âMâkay.â
You felt like you were on cloud nine as you made your way just down the hall into the rec room, Carl and Lori had just walked out as you walked in, you ruffled Carlâs head on his way out and he gave you a cheeky look.
As you shuffled through the books you heard a door shut and you jumped slightly at the sound. âJesus Christ Shane, you scared the shit out of me.â
âYa with the redneck now? That how it is?â
Your eyes snapped to him quickly as you heard his words, you could hear they were slurring slightly from the amount of drinks heâd had.
âHe has a name, ya dick.â
Shane began pacing towards you, forcing you to put your hands against him when he slammed his body against yours, pushing you both into a wall.
âYa know he ainât gonna treat you right, girl. Ya know I can.â
âShane, get off me, now.â
âYa know Iâll protect ya better than he ever can.â
âShane Iâm warning you, get off of me.â
âWhat are you gonna do girl.â He dropped the bottle that was in his hands to pin your arms above your head, holding you in place against the wall as his lips found your neck.
âShane please, stop, please.â
âBeg for me, I like it when ya beg.â
You twisted beneath him trying to get out of his grip but it was no use, he had you pinned and you couldnât move.
âDARYL!â You yelled as loud as you could.
âShut up, god damn it.â Shane slammed you into the wall again, winding you. You couldnât find your voice to yell again so you prayed that Daryl had heard you.
Within moments, Daryl came barreling into the room ripping Shane off you and throwing him to the floor.
âAh shitâ was all you head Shane muster before he copped punch after punch, Darylâs weight completely holding him down. You reached for Darylâs hand as he was about to swing yet again.
âDaryl stop, please.â
He looked at you, you had never seen him this angry but when his eyes found yours, the anger melted away.
He stood up, climbing off of Shane, looking down at him again.
âYa ever touch her again, Iâll fucking kill you.â
Daryl grabbed your hand and quickly led you back to the room where he checked you over for any injuries, lightly tracing his fingers over your neck sending shivers down your spine. You wrapped your arms around his middle and he felt your tears start to soak his shirt. He caressed your hair as you stood there for a good five minutes until you finally let go of him and looked up.
âI didnât think you heard when I yelled. I thought he was gonnaâŠâ
âStop. Iâll always protect ya, ya hear me. Always.â
You felt the effects of the long day start to take a toll on you as you led Daryl towards the bed, pulling the covers back you climbed in on one side and Daryl climbed in on the other. Something about being with him made you feel calm, made you feel like everything was going to be okay. You turned over on your side, your back facing Daryl as you felt his arm snake around your waist, pulling you into him. You fell asleep within minutes of being in his arms. It was the best sleep you both had in a long time.
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixion imagine#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x grimes reader#you x daryl dixon#y/n grimes x daryl dixon#y/n x daryl#y/n x daryl dixon#twd#twd fic#twd series#twd fic series#the walking dead#the walking dead fic
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
No clue what to call this one...
Itâs PunkRock!Michael and Emo!Alex AU that pretty much no one asked for. That being said, itâs for @litwitlady per our previous conversation about the subtle difference with punk and emo kids. As a warning, it fluff n smut.
       The ground vibrated under Alex Manes bright red converse and he wondered if heâd be able to hear anything once this night was over. Heâd found the furthest wall and decided to hold it up for the evening as he waited for Maria to get done with her one-woman-mission to fuck SOMEONE in this derelict house that operated as a âmusic venueâ. All the rooms were lit with harsh yellow lighting, bereft of all but the most untrustworthy looking furniture, and there were dents and holes in walls all over the place. Alex was a little afraid the second floor would cave in at some point and heâd have to find out that people actually lived here.
Looking back up towards the corner of what was once considered the dining room of the house, he was happy to see that he couldnât see Maria anymore. Maybe sheâd gotten lucky faster than heâd figured she would and soon theyâd be able to get out of here. But that might still take a while, so Alex slid down the wall and took out the book heâd been reading about the perks of being a wallflower. He noted someone coming to stand next to him in this periphery but didnât look up. He didnât want to engage anyone here and the bouncing of their leg by his shoulder made him sure they werenât looking to engage him either since they seemed to be enjoying the band.
        When the band finally wound down, the figure that had been standing next to him practically fell onto the floor in a heap of legs and elbows. He turned to look and saw it was Michael Guerin, probably the most serious, mysterious, hard core punk kid at his school. His blonde curly hair had been streaked with green and slicked back from his face. He didnât wear any make-up like some of the punk kids did or Alex himself for that matter. He had on a D.A.R.E. shirt with the sides and sleeves ripped off which showed off his lithe, strong body when he slumped forward. The shirt was tucked into tight black jeans with safety pinned holes up and down the legs. He wore the rattiest shit-kicker boots Alex had ever seen which were covered with patches, pins, and spikes. Heâd left his spiked bracelets and collar that heâd worn at school at home for the evening and Alex felt like he was almost seeing him naked. Which wasnât unwelcome because for all Michael Guerinâs faults, being unattractive was not among them.
       âHaving fun?â Michael asked, looking over at him in between nodding and slapping hands with various people milling around in the crowd. The band was breaking down their gear and everyone was moving to other parts of the house or out into the yard between acts. Alex pursed his lips at him and went back to his book. He was sure he was just fucking with him. Michael Guerin didnât make small talk. He mostly just stalked the halls and kept his head down in classes. Alex couldnât look at him without rolling his eyes sometimes, he was such a clichĂ©.
       âI, uh, donât think Iâve seen you at many of these. Thought you liked fuckinâ Panic! At the Disco and shitâŠâ he continued, sneaking looks over at Alex. Alex sighed through his nose loudly. Apparently, they were going to do this tonight.
       âIâm here with Maria,â Alex finally responded, still not looking up from the book he was frankly only pretending to read at this point.
       âOh? I saw her leave with one of the guitarists from the first band. Was she your ride?â Michael asked, sounding nervous. Alex did look at him then, trying to see if he was just fucking with him or if he was being sincere. When he decided he couldnât tell, he dug his phone out of his back pocket and saw a missed call and a text from Maria.
>Found something strange and hopefully wonderful. Wonât be back tonight.
       âGod fucking damnit, Maria,â Alex exclaimed, almost throwing his phone in frustration.
       âSo I guess thatâs a yes?â Michael asked a little sheepishly.
       âThis is why you never see me at these things. I donât have a fucking car and my ride likes to fuck strangers and ends up deserting me. I fucking know better. Ugh, fucking Maria,â he raged. Michael watched him at it for a while. Meanwhile the other band had finished setting up and people were starting to filter back into the room. Alex looked around at the people and groaned, just wanting to leave and get out of here.
       âHey, come on. Letâs go outside. Itâs about to get loud,â Michael suggested, standing up and offering Alex his hand. Alex absently noted that his fingernails were painted, though the polish was cheap and had already chipped off in several places. At the first screech of feedback from the amps, Alex grabbed his hand and let Michael pull him up. He shoved the paperback into his back pocket and looked Guerin in the eyes, feeling a fluttery feeling in his chest when their eyes met. He was a bit surprised when Michael didnât immediately drop his hand, but instead held it while leading him through the dingy kitchen and out to the backyard area. A group of smokers hung around the door chatting and they called âHey-o!â in excitement when they saw Michael. He waved and grinned at them but kept tugging Alex with him until they were past the property line. Apparently, someone had found a couch on the side of the road and had moved it out into the undeveloped desert behind the house to stare out at the dark nothing beyond. When they reached the front of the couch Michael finally let go of his hand and flopped down on the cushions at one end with a sigh.
       âUh, what are we doing?â Alex asked, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone had followed them. He shuffled a little and stared down at the orange and white plaid couch dubiously.
       âWeâre hanging out. Chill, sit down, enjoy the night with me. Weâll still be able to hear the band from here,â he added, patting the spot next to him.
       âOh, goody,â Alex remarked sarcastically before sitting himself down on the cushion farthest from Michaelâs. He still didnât quite trust his intentions, but he was glad to be out of the house. They could, in fact, here the band still, but the lyrics were muffled and it almost sounded like the songs had a melody this far out.
       âSo, whatâs up with the finger bruises on your arm?â Michael asked, pointing towards where Alexâs shirt sleeves had ridden up when heâd finally sat down. âGirlfriend like to get a little rough?â
       âUhhâŠ. That would be pretty remarkable since Iâm totally gay and you know it. Like, everyone knows it,â Alex accused, deflecting his question about the bruises. He didnât want to talk about his problems with strangers. As hot as this guy was, he was still a stranger. Michael smiled widely at him.
       âI didnât know if that was a rumor or what, man,â he replied easily, seeming to take Alexâs correction in stride. For some reason that threw Alex off. Heâd been waiting for an attack.
       âOh,â Alex said, feeling a little deflated, âWell, itâs not. Iâm gay. Does that make you want to run back to the party? Afraid someone will see you out here with the emo faggot?â
       Michaelâs smile fell and he looked a little insulted. Alex almost apologized, but he didnât owe this punk anything and he kind of wanted to see how he reacted to some pushing. His tone was less congenial when he finally answered.
       âI donât give a fuck who youâre into. Love is love. What I do want to know is who the fuck keeps bruising you up all the time? Those arenât love taps I saw on your ribs the other day in the locker room and you donât skate or play sports. Whoâs fucking you up?â
       He sounded mad, indignant on behalf of a stranger. On behalf of Alex, who was not used anyone giving a shit about him. It was a new feeling for Alex to have someone pay that much attention to him and care that he was being hurt. But he couldnât just say âMy dad knocks me around because I crave cock and hate the militaryâ so he kept his mouth shut and Michael watched him stay silent, watched him tense up with his shoulders closer to his ears and wrap his arms around his body. He obviously wasnât going to say anything so Michael tried a different tactic.
       âThe foster family Iâm with right now⊠theyâre alright. But the family I was with before them? Fucking meth heads. And meth heads get mean when theyâre coming down,â Michael said, turning and pulling his shirt over his head to show Alex his back. There were long thin grooves over the middle of his back and little round scars like burns. âNot all that is the meth heads. The long scars were from the religious zealots I got put with a couple years ago. Being exorcised isnât fun, but the lead up was worse.â
       Alex stared at the skin in horrified fascination, moving closer to see them better in the faint light of the moon. Before he knew what he was doing, he was reaching out to trace along one of the scars with his fingers, but at the last minute came to his senses and brought his hand back.
       âThatâs awful, Michael,â Alex whispered. Michael pulled his shirt back down and turned to him, a bittersweet smile on his face.
       âWell, itâs all healed over now. Right now, no ones hurting me. So, whoâs hurting you? Are you getting bullied? I know that Valenti kid is a fucking homophobic piece of shit jock bully, but if heâs literally beating you up I will get my boys and weâll tear his ass in two,â Michael threatened with passion. Alex looked at him, feeling his face soften at how serious Michael was.
       âYou canât defend me like that. Kyleâs a fucking jerk, but heâs not doing this. Itâs..uh⊠Itâs my dad. Heâs the one hitting me,â Alex admitted quietly. Somewhere in the middle of his confession, he had started to find his own hands fascinating. So fascinating he couldnât look up to see Michaelâs expression over his confession, but instead just kept watching the way his skin pulled taut when he interlaced them and twisted one way or the other. One of Michaelâs hands came into his view then and covered his own, stopping their anxious twisting. Alex froze and waited.  He didnât know what reaction he was hoping for but he felt himself bracing for it.
       âDo you have somewhere to go to get away from him?â Michael asked, his voice now quiet next to Alexâs ear. The hand not on Alexâs came to rest between his shoulder blades, thumb rubbing soothing circles through the cotton of his shirt. Alex felt his body relax a fraction, slumping a little as he realized he wasnât about to be attacked.
       âYeah, yeah. I have friends who will let me stay with them,â Alex managed to get out through the thickness in his throat.
       âAdd me to that list,â Michael said. Alexâs head jerked up to look at him and he realized he was only a couple breaths away from him. âIâm serious. Add me to the list of people you can call if you need an out. Iâve got a truck, Iâll come get you. No questions asked, nothing owed.â
       âYou donât know me, Guerin,â Alex said in the stillness between them. He couldnât stop his gaze from moving from his perfect hazel eyes down to his lips. He suddenly knew he wanted to kiss this guy. Whatever happened after was fine, but he wanted to do something reckless. Michael was pushing a long piece of hair back behind Alexâs ear and looking at him fondly and it made Alexâs gut clench with want.
       âSometimes people do nice things without an expectations. Itâs been known to happen,â he replied. Alex nodded and swallowed, suddenly filled with nerves again, though for a very different reason than before.
He saw Michael watching him, watching the way his eyes kept darting down to look at his lips, watching the way he mirrored licking them with his own. Slowly Michael leaned forward, closing the distance between them and pressed his lips against Alexâs. Alex was cupping his jaw and keeping him close before Michael could back away and end the kiss. Alex opened his lips, his tongue lickeding over Michaelâs in a request and a question. This wasnât Alexâs first kiss, but it was the first one he was adamant about pursuing further. Michael hummed deep in his throat and opened to Alexâs advances, letting him explore his mouth with his tongue before doing the same with his own. Alex felt breathless and elated. He didnât care that the music in the background was hardcore punk being played so badly Syd Vicious would be rolling over in his grave. He didnât care that he was kissing Michael on a dirty, half rotten couch out in the desert where anyone could see them and tell his father what heâd been doing with another boy. He didnât care that Maria had left him to fend for himself so she could chase boys. This half-crazed make out session with Michael Guerin was making it the best night of his life so far.
       Maybe it was the lack of oxygen or the adrenaline of being seen by someone heâd never admitted to himself that heâd always been hyperaware of, but Alex couldnât stop his hands from falling from Michaelâs jaw and starting to grope at the skin exposed by the open sides of Michaelâs shirt. In response, Michael turned his body and started to pull Alex until he was sitting straddled across his lap. Then it was Michaelâs turn to slip his hands under the hem of Alexâs shirt and let his hands slide over the muscles of his back and waist. When it became too much, Alex finally broke their never-ending kiss to gasp air into his lungs. Michael didnât miss a beat, his mouth attaching itself to Alexâs neck with sucking, stinging kisses that made Alex want to go crazy.
       âFuck,â Alex groaned when he felt Michaelâs fingers start to slip past the waist band of his jeans. It was so hot to feel him against his skin. It was too much, though, just too much with someone heâd really just been introduced to. âWait, wait, wait! We gotta slow downâŠâ
       Michael groaned and buried his head against Alexâs shoulder, hands immediately coming out from under his shirt and wrapping him up in a hug. Alex slowly withdrew his own hands, resting them on Michaelâs shoulders while they both calmed down and regained their breath.
       âSorry,â Michael murmured against his shirt before lifting his head and giving him a quick, close-mouthed kiss. âSorry.â
       Alex smiled and laughed a little, rubbing his hands up and down Michaelâs upper arms while he gathered himself. He was nervous about having stopped them, but he was still so fucking happy about what had happened.
       âItâs okay. All of that was okay, I just⊠Where did this come from? You donât even know me, youâve never talked to me at school or even, like, acknowledged my presenceâŠâ Alex said, eyes flickering over Michaelâs face. He saw the way his expression went soft and slightly incredulous.
       âI may not know your favorite color, but Iâve wanted to kiss your emo eyeliner wearing ass since my first day at Roswell High. Youâre always being so snarky and bratty to everyone and then when youâre with your friends? Your smile lights up the place and itâs so rare to see, but so fucking beautiful. Itâs just⊠man, fuck school. Fuck those people. Fuck the kids, fuck the adults, fuck the institution. Theyâre answering just enough of the questions to keep us from asking more. Itâs a fucking joke. Iâm not in the right headspace at school. Youâre about the only good thing about showing up every day. Just seeing you makes me hate humanity a little less.â
       Alex felt the heat of a blush infusing his face, but he also couldnât stop smiling. This guy. This fucking guy.
       âYour,uh⊠your smile is pretty great too. I think tonightâs the first time Iâve even ever seen you smile,â Alex commented, his arms wrapping comfortably around Michaelâs neck. Michaelâs lips widened into a cheesy approximation of a smile that really just showed all his teeth with his lips pulled back while he crossed his eyes.
       âOh my God, staaahhhp,â Alex said laughing at the stupid face. When Michael let his features relax back to normal, Alex darted in and kissed him. He meant for it to be one kiss, but it quickly turned into more as the heat which had been banked earlier, now came back to life with more energy.
       âCan we lay down? My legs are going to sleep,â Michael mumbled between kisses against Alexâs lips. Alex jumped and was about to scramble back and off his legs when he felt Michaelâs hands under his butt and then he was being tilted backwards until his back rested against the cushions.
       âI shudder to think whatâs on these pillows,â Alex grumbled even as he widened his legs and let Michael sink between them to rest his body against Alexâs. The weight and friction felt amazing. He suddenly didnât care about the scratchy upholstery where his shirt at ridden up his back. He just wanted Michaelâs mouth back on his and to keep feeling his body writhing on top of him.
       âYou want to add to the mess?â Michael asked after breaking their kiss, raising an eyebrow and smiling mischievously. Alex looked at him confused for a moment and then his eyes followed Michaelâs hand as it slid down to his own jeans, flicking the button open and leaving his hand on the zipper tongue. Alexâs eyes widened and he shot up to meet Michael in a kiss before glancing back down between them. It was so hot. He could tell Michael wasnât wearing any underwear and his pants were almost painfully tight against his own body. âAlex?â
       âFuck, yes. So much yes. All the yes. Enthusiastic conset given,â Alex babbled between kisses, his hands sliding down to start undoing his own jeans. Michaelâs hand followed his, pushing his away so he could cup Alex through the black cotton of his boxer briefs. Alex felt like he could come just from that. His body was vibrating, breath caught in his throat as he gasped at the feeling of someone elseâs hand so close to his own dick. He wanted to reciprocate. He wanted to touch Michael back so with shaky hands, he slowly pulled down Michaelâs zipper and pushed aside the fabric of his pants. He felt the velvety skin against the back of his hand and then he pulled it out. Michael was uncircumcised. Alex felt like he knew this somewhere in his hind brain from talk or the locker room showers or something, but it was different when it was something you glanced while trying to hide as much of your own body as possible. Now it was thick and heavy in his hand. The foreskin moved in such a hypnotic way as Alex pulled and then pushed gently until he could see the wet, spongey head of Michaelâs cock. It was giving him all sorts of scary, wonderful ideas of things he wanted to do and try that was definitely way too fast for a random hook up on a murder couch.
       âDoes it freak you out?â Michael asked, voice a little breathy as he held still and let Alex play with him. Alex shook his head slowly, still watching his own hand as he jacked Michaelâs cock, thumb swiping and spreading the precome over the head. Finally, Alexâs brain came back online and he looked up into Michael face. His eyes had closed and his mouth hung slightly slack. He looked like he was in pain, but he was enjoying every second of it. Alex didnât stop his hand movements as he raised himself up enough to capture Michaelâs bottom lip between his own. Immediately Michael responded, returning the kiss hungrily. His hand had stayed over Alexâs underwear, but now he pulled and tugged at the offending garment until he could get it far enough down to sit under Alexâs balls.
       âOOhhhhh my God,â Alex cried out as Michaelâs hand finally grasped flesh and he was overwhelmed by the heat of his hand and the roughness of his skin.
       âYou alright?â Michael asked, keeping his hand still to make sure Alex was still game. Alex nodded and sank back down against the sofa cushions. Michael was giving him a curious look from where he was holding himself up on one arm. Alex laughed a little and moved his hand to grip the back of Michaelâs neck fondly.
       âThat feels so much better when someone else is doing it,â Alex admitted a little shyly. Alex was afraid this was going to become a Conversation, but thankfully Michael just smiled softly at him and moved back down onto his forearm so he could kiss Alex while still having enough room between their bodies for their hands. Michaelâs hand was a little dry on him, but he didnât care. It still felt amazing and everytime their knuckles bumped against each other a zing of pleasure rocketed up his spine. He was doing this to someone else. Someone else was touching him. It was a-fucking-mazing. He started to feel a familiar tightness beginning in his core, his body winding itself tighter before it let go. He broke away from Michaelâs mouth, panting and making pained little âAhâ sounds against his cheek.
       âFuck, Michael, Iâm about toâIâm going toââ he was trying to get out, even as his vision narrowed and his body became a singular being of exquisite pleasure. He felt Michaelâs mouth cover his and then his own hand was wet as well. When it was over they laid there, panting against each other and then Michael tipped sideways to wall onto his side between Alex and the back of the couch.
       âShit,â Michael said succinctly, cheek against Alexâs shoulder and breath still short. Alex just nodded and looked down at himself. There was come all over his shirt. His come, Michaelâs come, marring the black in white, viscous stripes.
       âShit,â he repeated after Michael, his voice less in awe now that it was time for clean up. Michael looked down at his shirt and honest to god giggled a little. He brought his come covered hand up and wiped it over a clean expanse of Alexâs tee.
       âHey! I gotta wear this home!â Alex exclaimed, battling Michaelâs hand away.
       âNo you donât. Follow me to my truck, Iâll let you borrow a shirt. This one is fucking toast,â Michael snickered. Alex looked down again and had to agree. Soon after, they tucked themselves back up into their jeans and got off the couch. Alex found himself a little wobbly after the high of an orgasm. Michael caught him with a hand on waist and kissed his cheek.
       âYou get a little come drunk. Noted for next time.â
       âSo there will be a next time?â Alex asked, suddenly finding he was nervous to hear the answer.
       âIf you want there to be a next time, then yeah,â Michael said, holding out his hand to take Alexâs. Alex looked at it for a second and then up at Michaelâs guileless face. He smiled then and reached his hand out to hold onto Michaelâs. They slowly made their way around the outside of the house where the music was still rattling the glass panes left in the windows and out to the street where Michael had parked his truck. Alex stripped off his shirt and handed it off to Michael as Michael pawed through a backpack of clothes he kept under the passengerâs seat. Finally, he passed over a black Misfits shirt. When Alex put it on he noticed it smelled like rain, dust, and sage brush. It wasnât a bad smell and in fact made him want to bury his nose in the collar to train it to memory. It was how Michael smelled and that wasnât a bad thing.
       âWant a ride home?â Michael asked a little shyly as he tugged the bottom of his shirt on Alexâs body in some attempt to âstraighten itâ.
       âSure,â Alex agreed, climbing in the passengerâs seat and buckling in. Michael closed his door for him and ran over to the driverâs side, climbing in and starting up the car. As soon as they were on the road, Alex slid his hand over the seat between them in a silent request for Michael to hold his hand. With a quick smile, Michael did.
#malex#malex fic#malex au#roswell nm#barely edited#no name#punkrock!michael querin and emo!alex manes#michael guerin#alex manes#high school au
76 notes
·
View notes
Text
~Whiskey Lullaby~
--Chapter 12--
Image credit: Myself @badwolf-in-the-impalaâ. None of the images are mine, only the editing.
Previous Chapters:Â ((Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11))
Rating: Mature/18+
Warnings: Alcohol and drug use/abuse, violence, suggested physical/sexual abuse, kidnapping, sexual content, angst...So much angst.
Chapter Warnings: Angst, language, alcohol use, suggested kidnapping/being drugged.Â
Word Count:Â 4,184
-------------------------------------------------
Tears streamed down Teaganâs face as she sped down the Highway, away from the only true home sheâd ever known, and the safety of Charming, the roar of the engine drowning out her sobs as she grabbed another gear. Not even bothering to look down at the speedometer to see how fast she was going. Teagan no longer cared. She would allow herself this one final moment of weakness -- as everything replayed over in her head like a broken record -- and then she would shut it down. Every last fucking feeling, and Godforsaken memory she had made since her return to Charming; she was gonna bury it all. Just like she always did. Putting her cold, bitchy exterior back in itâs rightful place...And she would be damned if she ever let anyone break through it again. Ever.
Teaganâs heart was shattered into a million pieces, and the worst part? Was that it was her own stupid fault. She had known better than to fall for another fucking member of Samcro, and yet here she was; Hammer down, doing an excess of 90 miles an hour down a fucking highway, sobbing her heart out over the Scotsman who wasnât even hers to be crying over to begin with! She knew better, and yet she still let it happen.
How could she have been so stupid?
It was like she was reliving her fucking past all over again, minus the fact she hadnât gotten anyone killed this go around. At least not yet. Teaganâs heart pounded hard inside her chest, feeling as though it were about to break through her ribs, as images of Chibsâ accident suddenly flashed through her mind. The explosion, seeing him in the hospital, the fights with Tawni. His Wife.Â
It was all so overwhelming that it caused her to nearly crash her bike. Her vision blurred so badly because of the endless stream of tears, that she could no longer see the road clearly, forcing her to downshift quickly as she veered towards the edge of the road. Thankful that she was going slow enough when the front tire of her bike clipped the gravel, causing her to lay the bike over.Â
Teagan gasped for air as she skidded to a stop, yanking her helmet free and throwing it with a significant amount of force, into the bushes, after she had managed to crawl out from underneath her bike, clutching her sides as she curled in on herself, her forehead pressed into the dirt as the sobs fell from her lips. Unabashedly, she allowed her tears to fall, alone on the side of the highway, until she had no more left to cry; Finally consumed by the deep seated, familiar, numbness that she had been praying to take over.Â
So with a final deep breath, Teagan pushed herself up onto her feet, grabbing her discarded helmet from the bushes and tugging it back on firmly before fastening the strap securely beneath her chin and picked her bike up out of the dirt; Climbing on and restarting it the engine roaring back to life aggressively beneath her, as she sped back off down the highway. Headed for Lodi. Â
~
Tig came screeching back into the lot at warp speed a few hours after all the shit that had gone down between his sister and Tawni. He had taken off right after in hopes of catching up to Teagan, in order to attempt to bring her back to the Club House -- or at the very least, calm her down and find out what exactly in the fuck was going on. But she had torn out of the lot like a banshee. Hammer down and no plans on slowing down enough any time soon for him to come even close to catching up to her.Â
Tig having lost sight of her before he even managed to reach the county line. But that didnât stop him from speeding on pursuit for another ten miles --silently hoping she might eventually slow down-- before finally giving up on the chase entirely...He knew his sister better than that. Because once Teagan found herself in the frame of mind she was currently in now, she was done...Ties cut, bridges burned, she was gone. And even in her current situation, there would likely be little chance of her coming back. Even if it meant risking her ass.
âSon of a bitch!â Tig yelled as he slammed his helmet down onto the handlebars, the outburst catching the attention of everyone who was sitting outside; Unser included. Which wasnât a good sign.
âAny luck?â Jax questioned as Tig approached the group. A frown graced his lips as he watched Tig shake his head and run a frustrated hand through his already unruly dark hair.Â
âNah...And no thanks to the help of Chibs Jr. over there, sheâs probably halfway to Timbuktu by fucking now!â Tig snapped as he turned his attention on Tawni, who was now on her feet, face red and looking like she was about ready to knock his lights out when Unser finally stepped in.
ââFore everyone goes gettinâ their panties in a wad,â He started. âHow about we take a moment to think, huh? Just where exactly would Teagan have go...Havinâ nowhere else to go?â
âWhy should it even matter?â Tawni snapped, her accent slipping through the cracks as her temper flared. âSo she took the fuck off, jusâ like she always does! Big fuckinâ deal! Sheâs a Goddamn coward -- Anâ if you want my personal opinion, good fuckinâ riddance.âÂ
âWell you can take that opinion of yours and shove it up your uptight little ass!â Tig sneered, his eyes narrowed at Tawni as he moved to step around Unser, stopping as Gemma stepped out of the club house, the shrill sound of her voice putting an abrupt, but brief halt to whatever argument was about to erupt between the two.
âThatâs about enough outta the both of you!â Gemma scolded, pointing her finger between the both of them as though they were little more than children who had just gotten into a serious amount of trouble, both of them, bravely, ignoring Gemma as they continued.
âSheâs my sister! Only I get to say that shit about her!â Tig shouted at her. Tawni rolled her eyes and waved him off as he took a step away from her, beginning a slight pace and rubbing a hand over his chin roughly, trying to calm himself and think at the same time. They could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.
âYeah? Well, itâs my uncle, you fuckinâ egg!â Tawni yelled right back at him. Tig looked at her, confused for a split second, then he scrunched up his face and scoffed.
âOh, come on, Tawn. Are you on that shit? They didnât fucking sleep together! Sheâs not fucking your goddamn uncle!â Tig shouting, waving his arm toward her, before continuing his pace.
âJesus Christ...Did you hear that from her? Or did Chibs tell you?â Tawni asked, crossing her arms. Tig turned to her and said, âWhy would she lie? What reason does she fuckinâ have, Tawni?!â
âCause she didnât want to be fuckinâ caught, yeah?! The same reason she did everything!â Tawni screamed at him. Tigâs lips twitched and he stepped up to Tawni, too heated to care about hitting a female, but Jax wrapped a strong arm around Tawniâs waist to pick her up, as if she was nothing, and took a few steps back with her before setting her down, all with his phone pressed to his ear.
âYo! Ho! Wait a minute!â Jax called out, trying to listen to whoever was on the other end of the line. He uttered a quick âGot itâ before snapping his phone shut and turning to Tawni and the rest of the gang. He gave a small smile and said, âChibs is awake.â
~
Teagan let out a soft sigh as she ran her finger around the edge of her whiskey glass. Her opposite thumb and forefinger pinched the bridge of her nose as she closed her eyes for a moment before knocking back the amber liquid, and motioning for the bartender to top it off once more. The older gentleman gave her a skeptical look, but didnât ask questions as he grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels off the shelf, and refilled her glass, opting to leave the bottle behind this time. After all, she had been sitting in the same spot for a good four-ish or so hours now, with no intentions of leaving anytime soon.Â
Stuffing her hand into the pocket of her leather jacket, Teagan pulled out her phone and flipped it open, seeing yet another text from Tig. Teagan hit ignore and snapped the phone shut before dropping it haphazardly onto the bar, pushing it aside. He had been attempting to reach out to her since she jetted from Charming earlier that morning. But as usual, Teagan ignored him. Not really in the mood to argue with her brother about what had gone down between her and Tawni. The only thing Teagan wanted to do right now was forget...Even if only for a little while. She just wanted to forget about Charming and everything in it that she had just left behind; Possibly for good this time.Â
Another buzz from her phone sounded, followed by another, and another, but they all went ignored as Teagan focused on the bottle in front of her. Allowing the growing chatter amidst the barâs patrons to drown out the vibrations of her phone as she tried to keep her thoughts at bay. But it didnât seem to matter.Â
Shot after shot, he was still there in the back of her mind, lying broken and unconscious in that hospital bed, and it broke Teaganâs heart to think of how he would probably never know why she really left, if and when he ever did wake up. Teaganâs jaw clenched as she ground her teeth together at the thought, briefly, squeezing her eyes shut tightly to stop the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks as her lip quivered, her heart heavy in her chest as she knocked back another shot. Â
The hours ticked on slowly as the amber liquid drained from the bottle in front of her. Customers came and went -- most leaving as the hour started to grow late -- but Teagan remained rooted to the exact same spot she had been in since arriving, until the bottle of Jack in front of her sat completely empty, the bartender finally sounding off last call before he started closing up shop for the night.Â
âYou gonna need anything else, love?âÂ
Teagan glanced up through blurry eyes, pushing her hair away from her face as she blinked a few times, momentarily expecting to see Chibâs standing in front of her; A frown taking hold of her features when she was greeted by the face of a stranger. Teagan shook her head slowly as she pushed herself off the barstool and onto unsteady legs. Stuffing her phone back into her pocket before pulling some cash out of her wallet and tossing it onto the bar, motioning that she didnât want her change as she spoke, âMâalright.â
âYou sure?â The bartender frowned. âI can call you a cab if you want?âÂ
âIâll be fine.â Teagan waved it off as she stepped away from the bar, swaying lightly. âHotels jusâ right around the corner.â She muttered as she skulked off drunkenly towards the door of the bar. Not waiting for the bartender's reply of protest as she pushed it open and stepped out into the cool night air, pulling the almost empty pack of smokes from her pocket and shoving one of the cancer sticks between her lips.Â
Teagan exhaled a frustrated sigh as she leaned against the building's brick wall, pausing to fish around in her pockets for her lighter, sparking up the end of her cigarette and taking a long drag before snapping the lighter closed and returning it back into the pocket of her coat. She fished out her phone as the smoke trailed past her lips and up into the night air, flipping it open to find several more missed texts from Tig, one from Jax, and another from Gemma. Instinctively, Teagan opened the message from Gemma, first.
âHeâs awake.âÂ
Teaganâs chest tightened as she read the message, and then read it again, and again, and again...Her hand moving up to cover her mouth, muffling a sob as her vision blurred with tears. Suddenly flooded by the drunken realization of how stupid she actually was to catch feelings for a man she knew she could never have. And how stupid she was being right now for wanting to rush straight back to Charming after everything that had happened. Wanting to rush straight back to Chibâs, so she could profess her idiotic feelings while he was conscious this time, and tell Tawni just exactly where she could shove it. But that was more or less the alcohol in her system talking...Any and all of her rationality having gone out the window hours ago when she stepped foot into the bar she now stood outside of.
Pressing the phone to her forehead briefly, Teagan tried to steady herself by drawing in a deep breath. Using her sleeve to dry the tears that had managed to escape before she shoved her phone back into her pocket and pushed herself away from the wall and started walking. Hoping that the brisk walk back to her motel in the cool, late night air, might help sober her enough to actually make a rational enough decision about the situation at hand. But that was unlikely. Because her first instinct as she cut through the alley just down from the bar, was to fish her bike keys out of her coat pocket. Her pace quickening alongside her own heartbeat, as she made the split second decision that she was going back; Even if it was just to give Chibâs a proper goodbye before she disappeared for good. A decision she would most likely come to instantly regret. But nevertheless, her mind was made up as her bike came into view and she began to fish around in the pocket of her jeans for her room card so that she could grab her bag and haul ass back towards Charming.Â
She had almost reached the end of the alleyway, just a few more steps, when something that sounded a lot like footsteps caught her attention and caused her to pause. Teagan turned to glance over her shoulder, searching for the source of the sound but only finding darkness. She shook her head, blaming her foggy drink clouded mind for playing tricks on her as she turned her back to the darkness, bringing a foot forward to take a step, and that was when it happened. The sharp, searing, pinch of a needle being jammed into her neck.
Panic surged through every fiber of Teaganâs being as her vision began to blur rapidly, her first instinct to run, only her body --now paralyzed-- betrayed her. Sending her plummeting towards the ground instead. Saved only by a strong set of arms, from what wouldâve surely been a brutal impact with the pavement beneath her. Her panic quickly turned to fear as her vision began to darken, and an all too familiar, twisted, laugh filled her ear. A laugh that she thought had been long forgotten. Â
âCome now my little Raven. Weâve got so much to catch up on.â The voice cooed sickly as Teaganâs weight was shifted and she was lifted off the ground completely. One last chill ran down her spine as the dark clutches of unconsciousness closed in around her, turning her vision black and claiming her only seconds later.
~
The steady beeping of hospital machines greeted Chibs for a second time that day as he was gently roused from his sleep by the familiar soft murmur of voices in his room. Shifting with a soft groan, he opened his eyes slowly, blinking a few times to try and clear his vision before taking in the familiar faces of Jax, Gemma, and his niece, Tawni.
âWell itâs about damn time.â Gemma quirked a soft smile at him as she turned her attention away from the conversation she had been having with Jax.Â
âHow are you feelinâ?â Tawni cut in, shifting in the chair beside his bed as she perked up out of her own half asleep daze. A faint smile tugging at her lips as Chibs gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.Â
âLike absolute shiteâŠâ Chibs admitted truthfully, wincing slightly as he shifted in the hospital bed. His voice was hoarse and the dryness in his throat from a lack of water made him cough slightly, sending Tawni into overdrive as she started to fuss over him and what he needed.
âIâm fine, Lass.â Chibs assured as he grabbed Tawniâs hand to keep her from running out of the room to fetch Tara or the nearest nurse. Nodding his thanks to Gemma who helped prop him up with another pillow before she offered him a cup of water. âOne of ye goinâ to tell me exactly what the hell is goinâ on?âÂ
âWell, in short, you got blown up.â Gemma replied sarcastically, earning a scowl from Tawni who didnât find it nearly as lighthearted or funny as it was intended to be.
âCouldâve fooled me.â Chibs snorted. âAt leasâ tell me ye caught the bastard responsible, Jacky?â There was a round of wearily exchanged glances between everyone in the room. Something that made Chibs uneasy as he awaited an explanation from someone. Anyone.Â
Jax stepped forward towards the foot of Chibsâ bed and cleared his throat. âWe donât exactly know for sure yet who planted the bomb...But weâve got a pretty good idea that it was most likely that bastard, Zobelle. Thereâs been a lot of shit gone down the last few days man.âÂ
âChrist.â Chibs closed his eyes for a moment as a wave of pain radiated through his skull. Forcing him to draw in a deep breath before he tried to speak again. But Tawni spoke up before he had the chance.
âMaybe we should just let him rest before we start bombarding him with the shitshow thatâs been going on the last few days.â It was more of a demand than a question. One that had Gemma fixing her with a hard stare, which Tawni was quick to ignore. âBesides, thereâs someone come a long way to see Uncle Filip--â
If yâer referringâ to who I think ye are -- Already seen her...Donâ care to do it again anytime soon.â Chibs grit out as he spoke of his estranged wife, Fiona; Who had just so happened to have been there when he woke up the first time. Needless to say, she could have come harboring better news in a time like this.
âBut--âÂ
âI donât wanna hear any butâs, Tawn.â Chibs sighed, bringing up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose lightly between his thumb and forefinger. His eyes snapping back open suddenly upon a realization that he hadnât heard, nor seen, anything from Teagan since he first woke up. As a matter of fact, it seemed like the few people he had asked seemed to be avoiding the subject of her entirely. âWhereâs Teagan?â He blurted out suddenly, a flash of memory. The exact moment before the explosion when they had locked eyes. It caught everyone but Gemma off guard. âIs the lass alrighâ?! The explosion -- Is she--â
âAside from a concussion due to a pretty nasty bump on the head, alongside some other minor injuries none explosion related,â Gemma paused to cast a glance in Tawniâs direction, briefly, before continuing, âTeageâs alright.âÂ
Tawni let out an audible scoff as she sat back in her chair, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as she looked away. âBet she knew it was cominâ.â She muttered bitterly, a little louder than intended. All eyes suddenly on her.
âThe hell is that supposedâta mean, Tawn?â Chibs snapped as he pushed himself up the best he could into a sitting position, wincing as another wave of pain washed over him. Jax immediately tried to step in and defuse the situation.
âMaybe this isnât the best time to be airing out all the shit thatâs been goinâ down between you and Teage--â Jax tried, but his words fell on deaf ears as Tawni shot out of her chair; Full blown raging Irish, as she began questioning her uncle.
âThe hell is thaâ supposedâta mean?! Why donâ ye just tell me! Huh, Uncle Filip? Whaâ âxactly has been goinâ on between ye and thaâ Crow Eatinâ skank--â Tawni was all but bright red and screaming when Chibs cut her off, having heard enough as he leveled her with a stern glare and an even sterner tone.
âChibs--â Gemma spoke softly, a small scoff leaving her own lips as she threw her hands up quietly in frustration as Chibs silenced her with a finger of his own. His dark eyes never once left his niecesâ as he turned that finger on her.
âWhat goes on in my life in none of yâer business, and I will not be spoken to like a fuckinâ child, Tawni Rose! Nor will I have ye referrinâ to yâer own best friend as if sheâs some goddamn Crow Eater!â Chibs scolded, his voice rising steadily with each beep of the EKG machine. Tawni scoffed.
âRight. Well, yehâve given me the rule of not fuckinâ yer pals? Well, ye canât fuck mine either!â Tawni screamed at him. Jax tossed his hands in the air and sighed, in defeat, as the door opened and Tara shot in, glaring around the room.
âOkay, I think weâre going to suspend his visitation for the night. Heâs only just woken up. Getting him riled up will only do more damage.â Tara said, staring at each of the three in turn, before turning to look at Jax. âI need you all to leave. Now.â
Tears slowly began sliding down Tawniâs cheeks and she let out a final huff at her uncle, before grabbing her bag at the end of Taraâs little tirade and storming out of the room. Gemma quickly gathered her jacket and purse, standing to follow, but Jax caught her by the arm and shook his head.
âIâve got her. Go home, Mom.â Jax said, softly, before hustling out the door and down the hall, breaking into a sprint as the elevator doors opened in front of her. âTawni, come onâŠâ
Though she saw him running at her, she didnât hold the doors for him, but she also wasnât in a rush. âLetâs see if you can catch me.â She thought. But Jax was too fast, barely catching the doors on either side of his shoulder, though the bump was gentle. He gave Tawni a look as she rolled her eyes and stepped back. The doors opened again and Jax stared her down as he stepped inside and let the doors close behind him. Tawni still refused to meet his gaze, leaning against the walls as the car began to move. Shifting his feet and sliding his hands into his pockets, Jax said, âYou wanna tell me what that was all about?â
âNot particularly, no.â Tawni shot at him, swiveling her head up to look at him. A brief smirk passed over his lips as a soft scoff escaped from them.
âRight. So, is there a reason you brought up fucking his pals?â Jax asked, raising an eyebrow at her. âSomething he ought to know too?â
Tawni rolled her eyes and groaned. âOh, please. He made that rule after he found out about me and Kozik. Iâm simply reminding him and adding an amendment.â She said. Jax laughed.
ââAmendmentâ? What, are you our new lawyer?â He teased.
âShut up, Jax.â Tawni said, pushing him out of the way as the doors opened at her floor and strode out. Jax was quick to keep up with her, taking a few big steps to catch up with her once she left the elevator.
âAlright, fine. But seriously, Tawn. What was that? So, what if they fucked? Theyâre both grown ass adults. Teagan knows what sheâs doing, so does Chibs.â Jax said. Tawni scoffed as she slipped her bag over her head once she spotted her ride through the window.
âExactly. They knew what they were doing.â She spat. âTawni knew she was fucking around with my uncle and Chibs knew he was fucking around with my best friend. That, Jackson, is what that was.â
Jax scoffed and rolled his eyes, stopping just outside the doors and watched as Tawni crossed the lot and took a helmet from Juiceâs outstretched hand, then swung onto the back of his Harley; The pair speeding away a few moments later.
----------------------------------------------
Sorry itâs been a while since I updated! Quarantine depression is a bitch...Anywho, if you would like to be added to the taglist for future chapters/update, please let me know! ^-^
TAGLIST:Â @jacksonroserothâ @cole-winchesterâ @stacie-marie-bloomâ @journeyroseâ @penny4yourthotâ @xbreezymeadowsxâ @miss-nori85
#Chibs Telford#Sons of Anarchy#Filip Telford#Filip Chibs Telford#SOA#SOA fanfiction#SOA fanfic#Chibs Telford x OC#Chibs x OC#Fanfiction#Writing#Tommy Flanagan#Whiskey Lullaby#Original Female Character
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
the sugar bowl
authorâs note: hello friends! the wonderful @guaxinimraccoon has let me use their equally wonderful characters, Brad, Toby, and Siri, to write a fic! please go check them out-- their art is super awesome. i ended up writing a lot more than i expected, but i still love it! this was super fun to make and iâm excited to see what you guys think :). enjoy!
warnings: mild panic & mild swearing but thatâs about it
word count: 2.4k
part one | part twoÂ
 âTOBY? ARE YOU READY?â
   After a fitful sleep, Tobias could barely stand to listen to the noise around him. It wasnât much: the water rushing through the pipes, the skitter of the mice outside his home in the walls. And now, Siri tugging on his leg as he struggled to relax on his hacky-sack chair.Â
   âCâmon, man,â she said, huffing a laugh. âYou promised youâd grab some more paper and bread like, yesterday. And that you would get sugar.â Toby didnât know why she even had the time to pick up a hobby as boring as drawing. There wasnât much to draw in their little home. Heâd rather just try and continue his eventful dream instead of getting dressed just for some scraps.
   But he had to. It was his duty as a borrower and as Siriâs best friend.Â
   âAlright, alright.â He got to his feet and ran his hand through his sleep-tousled hair. âBut this means youâre making dinner tonight, right?â Before she could protest, he added, âBetter start cooking that soup now.â
   Siri put on a pouty glare, but her pointed ears twitched with amusement. âYeah. Whatever,â she mumbled. But she couldnât keep her face up long. Soon, it disappeared into a grin. He wasnât prepared when she threw her arms around his neck in an excited hug. âYouâre the best, Toby.â
   Tobias couldnât stop himself from smiling, too. âYeah. I know.â
   She waved as he disappeared down the corridor. Neither of them couldâve known what was waiting for him.
***
   Ever since Brad moved out of his parentsâ place, he knew only one thing: solitary. Not that he necessarily minded â he wasnât the most extroverted person. Even in college, he would stay in his dorm with a pizza and Netflix while his roommate hit frat parties. In the two years they lived together, they mustâve only spoken a total of eleven words to each other.Â
   But what he did mind was the endless, repetitive schedule. Wake up, check his phone. Have breakfast, take a shower, brush his teeth, pop an aspirin for his morning headache. Head to work and return to boxed mac-n-cheese dinner (or, if he was feeling adventurous, spaghetti). He wanted something exciting, even if excitement, for him, meant taking a different route to work. But he was too afraid of change.
   What he found on Saturday evening really threw a wrench into the gears of his brain.
   He got home to an empty apartment. Nothing special: a hand-me-down couch next in front of a 90s TV. He contemplated just napping on the couch for a bit before dinner, but he never did that. So instead, Brad took off his shoes, hung up his coat, and headed to the kitchen. There was some leftover tuna salad that he could munch on if he didnât feel like cooking.
   Nothing special.Â
   That is, until he stood up.Â
   He probably wouldnât have heard it if he was distracted, but it was real and oh-so-soft. A rustle from deep inside his cabinet. Brad could feel his heart stop. Did he have mice? No, that couldnât be. He cleaned out his cupboard pretty frequently. Bugs? That would be even worse.Â
   Shff. There it was again. It sounded too⊠heavy to be a roach. Whatever the little thing was, it rattled his cereal boxes. And then, the telltale clatter of the sugar bowl top falling onto the shelf.Â
   Wait, what? Okay. That was weird. Brad took a deep breath. His interest had piqued. He had to see what this thing was.
   With a silent prayer, he opened the cabinet.Â
***
   Paper? Check. Bread? Check. Toby was still dusting his knees off as he remembered that he was still missing something: sugar. With a groan, he got to his feet and shuffled over to his hook. âDamn Siri and her sweet tooth,â he muttered (though heâd never admit to her that he enjoyed something sweet every now and then).
   He didnât notice the front door open and the giant enter. He was distracted by the looming jar in front of him. It was difficult getting the lid off, but with a sharp tug and a grunt, it fell to the floor of the cabinet and he prepared to dive in to get a cube.Â
   But before he could get very far, the cabinet door swung open, and light invaded.Â
   And Toby was face-to-face with the human of the apartment.
   Brad wasnât sure what he was looking at. A little manâŠ? A four-inch-tall person, not much bigger than his finger, was standing by his sugar bowl. Pointed ears, wild, electric blue hair, and even wilder eyes stared him down. A patchy bag sat at his feet, and patchy clothing hung off of his thin frame. Was he drunk? High? Did someone roofie his coffee?
   Whatever composure Brad had left him. âWow,â he whispered. Just a breath seemed like enough to knock the little guy over. âHey, there, duââ
   Toby didnât hesitate to whip his needle out. âBack!â he tried to snap, though it was more like a squeak. God, he mustâve looked pathetic. His legs were jelly. Every bit of him trembled. âSt-stay back!â
   The giant blinked. He shook his head of shaggy black hair, rubbed his eyes with unfathomably huge fists. Toby did his best to suppress a lame whimper when those hands appeared. âSo Iâm not dreaming,â he said, more to himself than to Toby. It took every ounce of courage not to cry.Â
   The bean, however, seemed to notice his fear. âWait, little dude, heyâŠâ He eyed the needle warily. âYou donât hafta be afraid.â Toby didnât believe him for a second.Â
   The borrower looked suspicious. âBack up,â the little guy growled, and surprisingly, Brad obliged. He took a step away so he didnât tower over him (and so he didnât suffer the wrath of his needle).Â
   How did Brad look right now? He wasnât the biggest person around, but he certainly wasnât the smallest in his family. Even so, he wouldnât hurt a fly. He couldnât even bring himself to squish spiders. Heâd always trap them in a cup and usher them onto the balcony. This little person, though, didnât know that. He held his needle-sword up high, his toothpick arms shaking all the while. It practically broke Bradâs heart.
   Whatâs this guy doing? Toby thought. Nothing was stopping him from snatching him up in a fist and stuffing him in a jar or a shoebox. Was he luring him into a false sense of safety just so his experiments would hurt more? Was he pâ
   âHey, man, you okay?â The beanâs thick brows were knit together with concern. âYouâre looking a little pale.â
   âWouldnât y-you be?â Toby scoffed before he could stop himself. Man, Iâm so dead. âI-I-I mean, someone as big as you is a little Goddamn terrifying! God knows what the hell youâre gonna do to me! â He snapped his mouth shut. Heâs gonna fucking kill me for real now.Â
   âWhat Iâm gonna dâ No, buddy, I swear Iâm nââ
   âStay. Back.â Holy fuck, what am I doing?! Toby thought. The most he could do was poke the beanâs finger with his needle, but that would only make him angry. He contemplated running, but his thought dissipated when he realized the giant would have plenty of time to stop him.
   Bradâs jaw went slack. For such a little guy, he sure was brave. But after a beat, his words finally sunk in. âWait. Câmon, man. Iâm notâ Iâm not gonna do anything to you. Iâm just. Iâm just surprised. I mean, itâs not every day you find a little man in your cabinet.â With a chuckle, he asked, âSo are you gonna start paying me rent, or what?â It didnât immediately dawn on him that this tiny person probably didnât know what rent even was.
   Toby frowned. What the hell is this guy talking about? More to the point, what game is he playing?Â
  With a frown, Brad took another small step back so he didnât smother the little guy and held up his palms. âOkay, okay, look. I promise Iâm not gonna hurt you. Cool?â He didnât respond, but his shaking arm did lower the needle a bit. Thatâs a start.Â
   Brad heaved a sigh that ruffled Tobyâs wild hair. âRight. Uhm. Iâm⊠Iâm sorry for scaring you, dude. I didnât mean it. I swear.â He fiddled with his thumbs. A shy look crept over his face. âI think we got off on the wrong foot. Iâm Brad. Whatâs your name?â
   For a moment, Brad was afraid that the guy was too terrified to answer. But then came the timid voice, so quiet compared to the manâs earlier jab. âToby.âÂ
   Just play it cool, Toby thought. Do what he wants and maybe heâll let you live.
   âToby. Thatâs a cool name.â A set of teeth that could snap Toby in half without a second thought were bared at him in a wide smile. Toby could barely hold his ground without flinching. âWait⊠You were here for food, right?âÂ
   Tobyâs heart skipped a beat. âYou⊠Youâre not mad, a-are you?â
   âNo!â Brad said, maybe a little too quickly, because the little guyâ Toby â flinched. âI promise Iâm not mad,â he added. âYâknow, I was, uh. I was gonna have dinner, anyway. How âbout you eat with me? You look like you could use a hot meal.â
   âOh,â Toby said lamely. His head was going a million miles an hour. Was this Brad guy serious? He just found a tiny creature going through his food, and heâs offering him dinner? Itâs gotta be a joke, right? Some weird, fucked-up joke. But instead, what came out of his mouth was, âUh. S-sure.âÂ
   Brad couldnât stop a grin from crossing his face. âCool. Cool, cool cool. How does pasta sound?â
   âP-pasta sounds great.â My God, Siriâs gonna kill me if this guy doesnât.
   âAwesome. Wait here.â The bean ducked out of sight, his footsteps rattling Tobyâs entire world.Â
   Is this a trick? Is he gonna put something in the pasta? Why, why did I say yes?! God, Toby, you fuckinââ It took him a while, but Toby finally came to his senses: the giant was gone.Â
   The giant was gone!
   Heâd left him to his own devices. Never, in all of his years, had Toby heard of a human who would do that. His parents had always told him that humans were malevolent giants that wouldnât let you go the minute they got their hands on you. Clearly, they were wrong. At least Brad wasnât like that.
   In spite of that, Toby was scared shitless. Every cell in his body begged him to leave, but his feet were rooted to the spot. But did he want to leave? After all, the giant did just offer him a free meal. And he was nice. He didnât grab Toby, or even talk too loud. And he listened.Â
   One thought trumped all of that: Siri. God, she was probably terrified, wondering where her friend was. On the other hand, she mightâve been ready to jump him when he returned after a talk with a human. Should he go home, or risk it all for some pasta and the chance that he might not die?
   Toby was at a crossroads.
***
   Brad was over-the-moon. Who wouldâve thought that heâd be making dinner for a little, blue-haired guy? An unknown roommate, a potential friend? This was the kind of change he needed.
   With a triumphant hiss, he pulled exactly what he needed from his desk drawer: a spool of stiff art wire from his more creative days. He could bend together a little set of utensils so the guy didnât have to eat with his hands.Â
   âAlright, buddy!â he called as he returned to his kitchen. âIt wonât be much, but I promise itâll be taâ Oh.âÂ
   The cupboard was empty. All that was left was the tiny patchwork bag near the sugar bowl. Somewhere, deep inside his chest, Bradâs heart broke just a little bit. Why am I feeling like this? For some tiny dude I met ten minutes ago?
   He let out a defeated sigh. Not that he could blame him. Brad couldnât imagine how terrifying he mustâve seemed to a four inch tall man. Toby wasnât even the size of his hand. Itâs not your fault. With that in mind, he grabbed a pot from under the sink and started boiling water for his dinner. A pasta dinner just for him. Not for two.
   At least he knew he wasnât dreaming.
***
   Toby was out of breath when he finally reached his door.Â
   It was late, but Siri was definitely still up and waiting impatiently. How was he going to explain his borrowing run to her? If he told her he was spotted, they would without a doubt have to pack up and leave, which was tedious. That, and they probably would have to live with a human that didnât have good snacks.
   He took a deep breath. He would be honest. Yeah, honest. Brad wasnât murderous or enraged when he found Toby looting for sugar. He was good, and nice. Siri would understand. He pushed the door aside and entered his home.Â
   Sure enough, Siri was waiting on his hacky-sack chair. But when she spotted him, she looked relieved, not angry. âGood grief!â she cried, charging into him. Her hands shook from where they rested on his arms. âShit, Toby, were you gone a long time. I thought you were dead!â Toby didnât have the energy to respond as she looked him up and down. âWhereâs your bag?â
   Fuck. My bag. He mustâve left it by the sugar bowl in his desperation to leave. âRats,â he said blankly. What happened to being honest?  âI ran into a couple of extra territorial ones on my way back. I gave them my bag to distract them so I could get away.â He feigned an apologetic look. âIâm sorry, Siri. Iâll go again tomorrow. Promise.âÂ
   He prayed and prayed that Siri would believe him. With a sigh, she shook her head.
   âNo, Toby, itâs okay.â His friend patted him on the shoulder. âYouâve had quite a day already. Go on and sit down, Iâll fix you a bowl.â As she turned away, every muscle in his body relaxed. He couldâve died twice today and still he managed to come out unhurt.
   Still. He flopped down in his hacky-sack chair and blew his bangs out of his face. There was something missing, and it wasnât his borrowing bag.
   Why did he feel so bad?
#giant/tiny#g/t#g/t writing#brad#toby#siri#not my characters#fluff#i am definitely gonna make a part 2#this is so fun!!!#:)#mustard writes
89 notes
·
View notes