#and other such thing came to light you all were defending this man...based on what? his smile??his official statement? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

decks-writing-blog · 5 months ago

Text

Gordon Swap Chapter Two: Weird Thing to Say

Previous/First Chapter

The halls were long and empty. Every so often distant gunfire was audible but for now at least, didn’t seem to be getting closer. So other than the occasional headcrab, easily killed with the crowbar he’d found stuffed in a trashcan – it looked oddly like his old one except its head wasn’t bent from how hard he’d smashed a military goon’s head in – Gordon wasn’t in immediate danger. Given how things had been going that wasn’t likely to last long.

Comforting as it was the have the crowbar and thus not be completely defenseless, a gun would be far better. Preferably he’d find all his guns again and thus have a whole small arsenal to defend himself with. For now though all he could do was keep going.

Whether he was going in the right direction to be headed towards the Lambda Lab or not was still impossible to say. But as long as he was moving he was making progress, right? He’d find a way point eventually that would get him headed in the right direction if he wasn’t already. And when he arrived at Lambda… who knows? They were apparently working on a way to fix this though thus that’s where Gordon was going to help with whatever they came up with. He’d caused this so it was his responsibility to…

Turning a corner, he froze. Down towards the end of this hallway was another person, heading down this way. The distance and dim light – caused by many of the overhead lights having been broken – made it hard to determine who it was but the security guard uniform with its rounded metal helmet and bulky bulletproof vest gave it a distinct silhouette. Good, it wasn’t the military. Even better, it might be Barney. Probably not, with how big the facility was, there were a ton of security guards about. But Gordon could hope because it’d be real damn nice to see him again and know he was okay.

Resting the crowbar on his shoulder, Gordon started down that way. About a quarter of the way there, the fellow seemed to spot him based off the way they accelerated out of their meandering stroll. No called greeting though meaning it probably wasn’t Barney. Damn. Oh well. They might still be able to point Gordon in the right direction and/or be able to get him into a security office to get a proper gun or two.

As they closed in, the guard’s face became easier to see, confirming it wasn’t Barney. As they got even closer to each other though something seemed off about him, he didn’t look quite right. Probably that was just Gordon’s imagination. This was a rather stressful situation after all and the dim light was probably just making the shadows on his face look odd.

“Yo,” the guard said as they reached each other. “Why you here all alone? Seems awfully… Oh, wow, your hand grew back already? I thought uh… it’d take longer for a human, you know?” What a weird thing to say, especially as a greeting.

After attaching the crowbar to his front, Gordon lifted his hands to ask, “Do you know where I might find a gun? I lost mine. Also, do you know the way to the Lambda Lab?”

The guard stared at his hands as he signed. “You making gang signs now? Didn’t know you were part of a gang, man. Guess that’s why you’re trying to steal stuff all the time, huh?” Great, in addition to not making sense, he didn’t know sign language. That was fine though, many didn’t, Gordon was used to it.

Normally he’d have pulled out his notepad to write down what he wanted to say but he didn’t have it with him. He’d left it outside the test chamber and had been a bit too distracted to look for it afterwards. There wasn’t time to stop and have a drawn out conversation anyway though. So he made a ‘follow me’ gesture – there should be a security station nearby he could let Gordon into – before continuing past the guard, trusting him to follow or not as he chose.

“You giving me the silent treatment?”

With a sigh, Gordon paused and turned back to face him. Why he was choosing to be difficult about this now with so much else going on was a mystery but people were weird like that sometimes. Gordon shook his head, “No,” as he gestured to his mouth.

The guard blinked at him. “You uh… lost your voice or something?”

Close enough. Gordon nodded before turning and starting down the hall again.

The guard followed. “Ah, okay. I guess you did do a lot of screaming when they cut off your hand, huh?” Another mention of Gordon having lost a hand. What was that about?

Probably he was having some kind of psychotic break. He’d watched a buddy of his get their hand cut off and probably die a horrid death afterwards. Now he was confusing Gordon for them as some kind of extreme stress response. He seemed calm and collected but that didn’t have to mean anything; different people responded to high stress situations in different ways. If the poor guy was having some kind of episode, it was a good thing Gordon had found him. Keeping him safe until they came a good area to leave him in, preferably with somebody who could keep an eye on him, wasn’t going to be easy but nothing ever was. Gordon had caused this mess, granting him the power to cheat death in the process, so he was doubly obligated to fix it and save as many as he could.

***

The halls were long and empty. Every so often distant gunfire was audible but for now at least, didn’t seem to be getting closer. So other than the occasional headcrab encounter, easily avoided, Gordon wasn’t in immediate danger. Given how things had been going that wasn’t likely to last long.

A crowbar, its head slightly bent, he’d found in a trashcan was the closest thing he had to a weapon should he encounter anything properly dangerous. It was awkward to hold in his left hand though and thus there was no way he could wield it effectively. Gripping it did make him feel a little better, just barely enough to hold back the need to scream.

How the hell was he going to get out of this alive? It had seemed barely possible when traveling with a group but alone… he was just delaying the inevitable, wasn’t he? That had been true from the start though, hadn’t it? He wasn’t cut out for stuff like this. He’d only survived as long as he had because there was safety in numbers. Even with them though, his chances of making it out alive had always been the lowest of the group. Their betrayal, resulting in a lost hand, sealed his fate.

This was where he was going to die, alone and forgotten. No one would care or even so much as miss him. Maybe Benrey or Bubby might find his rotting corpse and feel a little guilty but probably not. Tommy would perhaps feel a bit sad. Dr. Coomer… who really knew with him? He was impossible to read. But that was the best he could hope for, them maybe happening upon his corpse after he’d been killed by the military, an alien, or heck, maybe just falling down the stairs like a moron – he wouldn’t put it past himself to stumble into the most ignoble end possible. Probably they weren’t looking for him though so it was doubtful that…

Turning a corner, he froze. Down towards the end of the hallway was another person. The distance and dim light – caused by many of the overhead lights having been broken – made it hard to determine who it was but the security guard uniform with its rounded metal helmet and bulky bulletproof vest gave it a distinct silhouette. Good, it wasn’t the military. Not so good, it might be Benrey. With Gordon’s luck lately, it probably was.

Benrey and Bubby had been the main ones behind the betrayal, right? They’d certainly been scheming leading up to it and had been the most insistent on getting Gordon to go into that room. So perhaps he should turn and run, avoid the confrontation entirely. It was too late though, he’d been spotted, the guard was headed towards him. So in hopes of them being a normal security guard and thus also hopefully someone who could help him, Gordon started down towards them too.

As they neared, the other guy raised a hand in a wave. “Gordon! Holy cow, man, I didn’t expect to run into you here.”

It wasn’t Benrey, thank goodness! Who was it though? He clearly recognized Gordon but… as they got closer, he was more familiar. Gordon had seen him around; he was one of the guards that was assigned to the to the area of the facility that included the Anomalous Materials department. They hadn’t had a single conversation that Gordon could remember though, not even in passing, making the familiarity of his words odd.

“Last I saw you,” the guy continued, his tone still that of someone talking to a good friend – was Gordon messing up big time in not remembering ever even speaking to him? – “you were getting dragged away by some military guys. I wanted to help but I had some sort of temporal something or other going on thanks to a portal I went through that was acting up. It was vanishing me all over the place before finally dropping me off down that way a bit.” He gestured down the direction he’d come from. “I’ve been trying to get my bearings ever since. But boy am I glad to see that you’re…” He cut off as his eyes finally caught on Gordon’s stump. “What the hell happened to your hand?”

Well, even if Gordon didn’t remember his name or ever having had a conversation with the guy, he wasn’t about to say so and possibly ruin his final chance of getting out of here alive. He’d play along and pretend they were friends, how hard could that be? “Those uh, military guys you saw dragging me away, they cut it off when they jumped me. Sucks real hard.” Understatement of the century.

The fellow’s face darkened as he took a step back. His hand lowered towards his gun. Damn it. Even if he was only now realizing he had the wrong guy, he didn’t need to get hostile about it, did he? “Gordon Freeman?”

“Uh… yeah, that’s me.”

“I don’t think you are him actually.” Taking another step back, the guard drew his gun and pointed it at Gordon’s head.

“Whoa hey man!” The crowbar fell to to the ground with a loud echoing clatter as Gordon dropped it so he could raise his hands. More like hand and stump. “I thought we were cool. I am Gordon Freeman. I… I work in the Anomalous Materials department. I was there when the thing happened and uh…” Saying it was maybe his fault probably wasn’t wise. “Look, I’m just trying to not die now, man. So can we maybe not point a fucking gun at me anymore, please.”

The guard’s expression didn’t soften but he did lower the gun, pointing it towards the floor but still held it ready. “The Gordon Freeman I know can’t talk. You look exactly like him and he works in the same department as you. Wanna explain that?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about! I don’t know any other Gordon Freemans in my department or anywhere else. And I don’t know anyone who looks exactly like me either.” Gordon’s arms were starting to ache from holding them up but he didn’t quite dare lower them yet. He’d been through enough today without adding getting shot in the face over a case of mistaken identity to the list.

The guard’s studied him. “If you’re some kind of alien mimic thingy, you’re doing a real poor job of it.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m not a mimic!”

“Hmm…” Finally, with a sigh, the guard holstered his gun. “I suppose, whatever you are, you don’t seem be a threat.”

With a wave of relief, Gordon let his arms drop to his side once more before he sagged against the the wall. If one more bad thing happened he was going to lose whatever little of his mind remained intact.

“You a clone? I heard Black Mesa dabbled in cloning before but the clones got violent so they stopped. Maybe they were trying again when the cascade thingy happened, freeing you and your clone buddies.”

Gordon took a breath to say there was no way that was the case but… with all the other crazy shit happening did he know that for an absolute fact? Did any of Dr. Coomer’s clones know they were clones? Or did they all think they were the original? Maybe he was a clone. He had memories reaching back to childhood but what if they were fake? Memory was reported to be quite fallible after all, easy to implant false ones. … Even if he was a clone though, “Why would I be able to talk if the Gordon you know can’t? ‘Cause like, if I’m his clone, I should be like him in basically every way, right? Maybe he’s my clone instead, huh? And he got messed up so he can’t speak or something.” Yeah, that made more sense, right?

“Nah, I’ve known him years before we started working here or even knew of Black Mesa. As for you not being like him though, I’m not sure. The rumors say that the clones got weird and violent. Supposedly one ripped one of the researcher’s throats out with its bare teeth. A lot of it’s probably exaggerated, you know how the rumor mill goes, but they certainly weren’t exactly like the original. So maybe this batch of Gordon clones can talk. I feel like he would’ve told me if they were cloning him though so maybe he didn’t know either. Which might also be why you think you’re him.”

Gordon groaned. Just what he needed right now, an existential crisis. What if all his memories prior to the Resonance Cascade were false and he was one of Black Mesa’s experiments that had been inadvertently freed during it? That would certainly explain why his prior companions had been so okay with betraying him. They’d known the whole time he was a clone and thus didn’t consider him a real person. With how fucked up and weird everything had become there wasn’t anything around he could look to that would tell him for sure one way or the other.

“Anyway, I’m Barney Calhoun.” He lifted his right hand in offer to shake before quickly realizing his mistake and switching.

With a sigh, Gordon shook it. Awkward and clumsy, he hated only having his left hand. How the hell was he going to survive this hell with only his non-dominant hand? Couldn’t they have cut off his left instead?

“Sorry about the scare with the gun. Just you speaking really threw me for a loop. Gordon’s a good pal of mine and I’m a bit worried ‘bout him. But I’m sure he can take care of himself… hopefully. Especially since uh, it was you I saw getting dragged by the military goons?”

“Probably yeah. They jumped me, cut off my hand and then dragged me somewhere.” No need to explain the obvious trap he’d fallen for that lead to that or the betrayal. He didn’t want to talk about that, not with a stranger.

“All right. Gordon’s definitely still okay then. Supposedly he’s on his way to fix this mess. If anyone can do it, I suppose it’s him. I on the other hand was trying to get out with a guy named Dr. Rosenberg. He and a couple of pals made it but like I said, the teleporter malfunctioned for me so I guess I gotta go with Plan B; find another way out. I can’t exactly leave you here like that, even if you are a clone, so… wanna come with?” As he spoke Barney bent down and collected the crowbar. Straightening he held it out for Gordon to take once more.

He accepted it because what else was he going to do? It was better than being completely weaponless. “Yes, please, yes.” He didn’t even need to ask, what luck.

“Awesome. Let’s get a move on then before something nasty finds us.”

Next Chapter

#hlvrai #half life #hlvrai gordon #benrey #gordon freeman #barney calhoun

16 notes · View notes

starrydixon · 2 years ago

Text

Needles and Pins

*Requested from this ask :)

Era: Pre-Apocalypse Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Pronouns: Non-Specified Word Count: 2.4k Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, slight violence/gore, getting into fist fights

Summary: When you and Daryl’s laid-back night out takes a turn, you both aren’t afraid to show off the damage that your strong personalities can cause.

A/N: I’ve never written a fic that is based off of a song/lyrics or Pre-Apocalypse!Daryl before, so apologies if the flow seems a bit choppy or if the content doesn’t match the song, this was just how I interpreted it (Needles and Pins - The Deftones). Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy reading!!

All of your life, you have always been a force to be reckoned with. Strong, fierce, stubborn, and unforgettable are just a few words to further describe you. Sometimes, it was either your way or the highway, while other times you didn’t care which way it was. Although you thrived in the comfort of staying out of the spotlight as much as possible, you never had an issue being in it if it so happened to shine on you. Whether that be from kicking your elementary school bully’s ass at recess, or telling a previous boss where they could shove it after wrongfully commending you. You knew your worth, and possessed just enough respect for yourself to let others know it as well.

Although a man of few words, Daryl Dixon didn’t let anyone or anything change the way he did things; it was admirable (though most viewed it as infuriating at times) how he stuck to his morals no matter what. As much as he tried to avoid it, he never shied away from a fight if it came its way, especially if it involved defending someone he valued or giving someone what they deserved.

Since the day you two met, you and Daryl have been able to admire each other's strengths and ambitions; despite having two very strong personalities that often resulted in the two of you butting heads. After bringing in your nearly broken down car to the shop Daryl was working at, you had begun to loudly commend the mechanic who was trying to hustle you into getting more expensive repairs done to your car than actually needed. Daryl had seen (and heard) your act of defense and found himself quickly rushing to your aid in heckling the amateur swindler.

Ever since that day, you and Daryl had become inseparable; drawn to each other's unique flame. It happened subtlety, and then all at once, when you two fell in love with each other.

You’re pins, Daryl’s needles.

Now, after suffering from another grueling work week that left your muscles aching and having caused your brain to practically turn to mush, you started the weekend right by spending the night out with Daryl at a sleazy bar that smelt of stale cigarettes and pungent alcohol. You both didn’t care for the amount of intoxicated bustling people that filled the small confined space of the hazy bar; you instead enjoyed being able to hide out in one of the corners of the bar, concealed by the dim light fixtures that casted shadows over you when sat in one of the wooden booths.

When you were together, it was easy to tune out everyone in the crowd.

“So, what are we betting on this week’s game of darts?” You asked while setting down the glass that held your Shirley temple.

Blinking his mystified gaze away from your fruit garnish cocktail, Daryl shrugged his shoulders loosely. He could never fully understand you at times, seeing you as much of an enigma as you saw him. You had no problem getting your hands dirty when accompanying him on his hunting trips in the springtime, or standing up for yourself when a customer at work started to become a little too entitled. But at the same time, you preferred drinking fruity cocktails over liquor and enjoyed going to the mall to window-shop at clothes, shoes and accessories that fit your unique style.

You amazed him in every way possible, like a blazing star falling from the sky.

“Losers gotta pick up the tab.” Daryl suggested from over the rim of his beer bottle.

Groaning, you let your head fall into your hands as your elbows sat perched on top of the scratched up wooden table. “We always do that…it has to be more interesting this time.”

“What could be more interestin’ than almost goin’ broke?” Daryl frowned in disbelief, which caused a shadow to cast over his eyes due to his furrowed brows.

“It’s not interesting—its just sad.” You defended while crossing your arms over your chest. A pout began to jut your lips when you thought back to all the times you’d check your bank account the following morning whenever you’d lose to the precise archer.

Daryl just hummed in acknowledgment as he leaned back in the practically disintegrated cushions of the booth. With the neck of the glass beer bottle hanging loosely between his fingers, Daryl pondered over a more enticing bet that was interesting and didn’t pack a painful blow to either of your bank accounts.

With two strong personalities going head to head, it was no surprise that you and Daryl began to bicker back and forth for the next few minutes, trying to agree upon a suitable wager. When it was finally settled, and you were both content with the risks, you slipped out of the confining booth and waltzed over to the dart board that hung in the corner you were occupying. When close enough, you began to pluck the handful of darts from off the board that was made up of cork.

Spinning around on the heels of your shoes, you refaced Daryl, who had brought your drinks over to one of the tall bar tables and was looking at you as if you were the only person left in the world. Despite the years of having been together, you still felt heat rush up your face at his wordless declaration of affection.

You’re pins, he’s needles, let’s play.

“So, who gets to go first?” You proposed as you silently prayed that the dim lights that lit up the bar was enough to conceal your rather juvenile flustering.

“After you.” Daryl mused while outstretching his arm and gesturing his hand towards the dart board.

With a nod of your head, and a confident smile gracing your lips, you started the first round. You tried not to let your sudden adrenaline rush get the best of you, or the look of adoration Daryl kept gazing at you with distract you. With each precise throw of your hand, you tried to make each dart count. Although not scoring any bullseyes (or even getting near it), you didn’t let it deter your confidence.

When you were half-way through the game, after having just finished the fourth round, the score was neck and neck. Although Daryl was leading, your throws were becoming more precise and consistent with landing near the center of the target. Setting the stub of a pencil down on the table beside the scoring sheet, you glanced over at Daryl, who was gulping down the last drops of his beer.

“Ooh, is someone getting nervous?” You teased with a light lilt in your voice. With a jut of your chin, you motioned towards the now empty beer bottle that Daryl held loosely in his hand.

Rolling his eyes and letting out a scoff, Daryl motioned towards your empty cocktail glass. “Says you.” Unable to stop the broadening grin from stretching across your face, you let your chin fall in your hands as Daryl stood up from the table. “You want a refill?”

After nodding your head, you watched as Daryl began to depart from you. Before he had the chance to completely disappear amongst the crowd of hazy and intoxicated people, your light voice beckoned him back. “You’re gonna leave without giving me a kiss first?”

Spinning around on the heels of his worn work boots, Daryl raised an eyebrow at you while the corner of his mouth quirked upwards in a smirk. Without having to say anything, Daryl sauntered back over to you, his concealed smirk only broadening the closer he got, and leaned down to give your soft lips a quick, but sweet, kiss. “I’ll be right back.” Daryl murmured just a few inches away from your lips as he slowly pulled away.

“I better get another one of those when you get back.” You looked at Daryl with hooded eyes as a rather love-struck smile fitted your face.

Letting out a light chuckle, Daryl nodded his head in agreement as he backed away from you. Before you knew it, his prominent broad frame disappeared into the crowd. Having so much of your attention focused on the game of darts and Daryl, you hadn’t noticed how pact the bar had begun. Despite the intimidating confinement, you tried not to let it deter your mood.

Your eyes flickered from person to person as they passed, waiting to land on Daryl’s handsome face when he would eventually emerge through the crowd again. As the seconds began to turn to minutes, and those minutes became more prominent, your worry increased. You knew the bar was busy, just by judging from the bouts of people alone, but you figured Daryl would’ve come back by now.

Just as you were ready to investigate what was taking your boyfriend so long, you quickly received your answer when a sudden boom of rowdy drunks began to cheer and chant.

Your gut was telling you that Daryl was somehow involved.

With a new wave of adrenaline spiking your nerves, you departed from your table and pushed through the mass of people who had begun to crowd around the main floor of the bar. When you emerged from between two particularly enthusiastic men, your eyes fell on the back of Daryl’s head, just as he was in the middle of swinging a right hook into someone’s jaw. Cursing under your breath, you flinched when the crowd’s instigating cheers became louder.

“Daryl!?” You shouted once you regained your bearings. Although you knew Daryl was fully capable of handling himself in a fight, that didn’t mean your worry lessened. He was still getting hurt, even if he was currently winning.

When your wavering concerned voice reached his ringing ears, Daryl instinctively looked for your face in the crowd when his opponent was momentarily stunted. His erratic eyes finally met your widened ones, and he was only able to throw a hand up in a stop gesture towards your inching closer body before getting punched in the face with unrelenting force by the now recovered drunk.

You watched in horror as Daryl stumbled backwards, his body falling onto a table as his eyes glistened in a daze. Wooden chairs tipped over and glass mugs and plates crashed to the floor due to the impact of Daryl’s body against the wobbly table. Your ears rang as you watched the smug drunk throw a punch to Daryl’s exposed abdomen; since Daryl was using his arms to block his face. You didn’t care what had caused the fight, or about any of the people who were too busy enjoying the entertainment that the fight brought them instead of attempting to stop it. All you could see was red.

Your boyfriend, your Daryl, was getting hurt. There was no way in hell you were going to allow yourself to stand there and do nothing.

With your hands clenched in tightly bound fists, you marched over to the two men. Although the opponent had a good foot over you in height, and god only knew how much in weight, you weren’t scared of his size in the least. In fact, it only spurred you on; encouraging you to take down the man who was twice the size of you and humiliating him in front of a bar full of people.

He didn’t know it, yet, but he had fucked with the wrong couple.

“Hey!” Gaining the attention of the opponent, you swung your fist directly into his nose. You could feel the bone structure crack under the impact of your knuckles, and could feel your skin tearing from the collision.

You didn’t let the pain deter the upper hand you now held. Grabbing a handful of the man’s stained shirt, you pushed him down onto the bar counter and swung relentlessly at his already bruising face. After you had landed a hard hook to the man’s jaw, you felt your body stumbling backwards as all the air left your lungs. In an attempt to get you off of him, the drunk had kneed you in the gut and shoved your shoulders back with all the might he could muster.

You’re pins, Daryl’s needles.

“Sumbitch!” Daryl growled as you struggled to regain your lost balance.

Placing a hand on your wheezing chest, you watched as Daryl grabbed a half-full beer mug from off the bar counter and smash it over the man’s bald head. Despite having stumbled a safe distance away, you still shielded your face with your arms as sharp pieces of shattered glass and droplets of toxic malted barley flew everywhere.

When you were able to regain your breath, you shouted for Daryl when the shade of red that had been blinding you ceased, and the reality of the scene you were staring in had begun to set in. Thanks to you and Daryl’s tag-team fighting style, the man was practically unconscious and bleeding from every orifice that was on his head. The crowd’s once enthusiastic chants had quieted down dramatically, making the sound of Daryl’s fist colliding with the man’s broken face the only sound that filled the bar.

Who wants to fuck with us now?

Quickly, you pulled Daryl’s tense body off of the man and shoved his heaving body towards the exit. You feared that authorities were finally being called, and you didn’t want to get caught in the center of it. As you made your way back to your booth in order to grab your belongings and leave a few bills on the table for the drinks you had ordered, the dismantled crowd parted and made a path for you and Daryl to walk through.

The cool night air hit your flushed face once you exited the sleazy bar. If you strained your hearing enough, you could make out the distant sounds of sirens that seemed to get louder the longer you stayed put in the parking lot. “C’mon.” Daryl grunted as he grabbed your hand and tugged you towards his parked truck.

You and Daryl would do anything to protect the other, and weren’t afraid to do so whenever and wherever the occasion arose. It was an unspoken promise the two of you had made, having each other's backs no matter what. No questions asked, and no judgment. For times like these, both of your strong personalities never ceased to give you an advantage.

You’re pins, he’s needles.

Make a pact with each other.

Who wants to fuck with us now?

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction

161 notes · View notes

znerac · 2 years ago

Note

Hey (I never know how to start asking stuff)

Could I have a fic base on this cover version I think it make a great Pedro pascal fic (or one of his characters)(I think the cover sound more heartbreaking)

https://youtu.be/aQ-vU28uPb0

(King of Leon-dancing on my own)

Thank u

From abby

Got a good angst idea from this!! Hope it was what you were going for!

No pronouns except they/them were used for a reader-friendly Experience :)

Song cover

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Reader. Warning: heavy angst, abandoning, abandonment issues, crying, hurt/comfort, mutual pining. Summary: Pedro invites his best friend to a bar, who has had a thing for him for years. Pedro inevitably forgets about the readers existance as he talk to a girl on the other side of the club. Where the reader gets feels and breaks down. A/N: i LOVE me some good angst! Hopefully the little spark of romance at the end fits nicely :) I've been conjuring up this idea since the ping!

Dancing On My Own

You and Pedro have been friends for ages, early in your teen years you guys had met. Secretly, you had always had a bit of a crush on your guy-friend. But in fear of rejection, you had kept those feelings for over twenty years. And he never made a move on you so you assumed he didn't feel like you did.

You sat on the island stool as Pedro shrugged on a jacket, smiling over at you. "Excited? We haven't been out in a few weeks." he chimed, planting his palms on the island counter. You gave him a warm smile, nodding. "Oh, yeah. I've been looking forward to some Pedrito time" you hummed, hopping off the stool. He snickered at the name, brushing his hands on his jeans before heading to the door. "Think we'll need to get an uber tonight?" you ask, and he shook his head. "Nahh, I'm not plannin on getting that drunk. Just loose and dancy" he said with a grin. Those beautiful brown eyes staring into yours. You were glad to have such an opportunity to have him look at you so often.

Walking to his car, you called dibs on the aux. Knowing he would of handed it to you anyways, but you liked the spunk in your step. Hopping into the passenger seat, and snatching the aux. Giddily changing it to your favorite playlist and looking over at Pedro with a smile as he did with you. Sinking his foot on the pedal and getting out of the driveway.

"Jesus, you've been playing this song since we were teenagers" Pedro said, chuckling softly. "Oh please, says the man who puts on the same chilean song on repeat for hours" you teased, making him bat his hand at you playfully. "Its a good song!!" he defended, ultimately accepting the defeat and stopping at a red light. "Wanna grab a bite to eat before we hit the club?" he asks, and you nod. "I could definitely eat some five guys right now" you said with a knowing glare, Pedro let out a fake moan, "God you know me so welll.." he said with a smile, the thought of his favorite fast food restaurant filling his senses. "Alright. Five guys and then the club. On it" you say with a tap to the dash.

Dinner was great, you laughed as Pedro took his sweet time eating his burger and drinking that strawberry milkshake of his. While you were done and snacking on the complimentary peanuts. You didn't mind though, soaking up every second with your best friend. After all, his work is busy and you were missing having time with him.

Once you both were happy and full, Pedro drove the two of you to the bar he had in mind. One that was usually not so crowded, but tonight was apparently different, there was a good crowd.

You and pedro sat at the bar and ordered a couple drinks, sipping at them and chatting, like the good old days when you first turned 20. The memories planting a sweet smile on your face. Pedro furrowed his brows, "what are you smiling about?" he teases, nudging your shoulder. Snapping from your trance, you hummed "thinkin about when we first turned twenty and came to a bar like this" you said, sipping on the bitter drink you had. Pedro nodded "reminicing? Jesus your old" he joked, making you roll your eyes and sip on your drink.

There was a good hour where you two sat, chatted and drank. Occasionally speaking with the occasional stranger. Until a song that came on that made you both spring up to your feet. "Shit, Pedro, this is our song!!" you yipped, dragging him to the dance floor. He laughs, "Our song? You mean the song that-" you interrupted "-That was playing when i crashed into you during the valentines day dance! Yes! The day we met" you said with a playful wink, taking his hands and twirling the man in front of you. "Right, the night you ultimately ruined my life with your presence" he joked back, shaking his hips and pulling from your grip.

You laughed, "oh shut up! I made your life better you little ass" you yelled, the music and chatter making it hard to hear each other. Pedro chuckled, "sure you did" he retorts, then looks over as a pretty woman taps his shoulder. "Hey, can i dance with ya?" she asks, Pedro looking over at you to make sure you were alright with it. You gave him a simple nod, "I'll grab another drink, check in when your done dancing" you said, giving Pedro an honest smile before walking off the dance floor and getting to the bar. It was nice seeing Pedro get along with people, and he was good with checking in on you. So you weren't worried. Ordering another drink as you sat on a stool and chatted up the bar tender.

Well, Half an hour went on and Pedro hadn't come to say anything. But you brushed it off, ordering another drink. And then another when he didn't show an hour later. You bit your lip, anxious that he'd maybe gotton kidnapped or something. But with a simple turn of your stool you saw the opposite. Pedro was in the corner with the same chick, Talking her up with a grand smile, even gently touching her arm in an attempt to flirt. You held your breath, you weren't against him meeting some new girl or whatever. But it just itched at you that maybe he forgot about you.

You glanced at the bartender, asking for a few shots to loosen yourself up more. And when you glanced back at pedro, your stomach dropped seeing him all over her. Kissing and touching one another like they were the only ones in the room. Your gut made your voice crack as you asked for a few more shots. Downing them all at once. Sure, it was dumb to drink your feelings out. But it just hurt seeing him so interested in somebody like that. Especially after hiding your feelings for him for so long. You sat on your stool, fighting back the burning of tears threatening to fall. And you looked at the bartender, sliding your card over to pay for your drinks. Pedro wasn't going to come back, you knew that.

It felt like a sharp object impaled your stomach, taking your card back and getting to your feet, feeling your stomach twist as you saw pedro in the corner booth with that woman. You swallowed the lump in your throat and left the bar, unsure of where you were exactly going, but you couldn't be in there. Knowing that he forgot about you, knowing he wouldn't come back and likely take that chick to bed. You felt like throwing up. Holding your stomach as you walked down the sidewalk, tears streaming down your cheeks and falling to the cement.

The alcohol quickly rutted into your system, making you dizzy. You needed to sit somewhere, finding a bench and sitting as you held your stomach. You felt alone, sad, and heartbroken. A sob catching in your throat, erupting as tears fell out of your eyes. Eventually you saw a cop car pull up, and a male officer stepped out. Anxiety crept through your throat as you wiped your tears away and looked up at the officer now standing above you. "You alright there bud?" he asked, full well knowing you weren't. You shook your head. "I'm drunk, sad, and i just, i don't know what i want" you shuddered. The officer nodded, putting a hand out. "I'll give you a ride home. Its dangerous bein out this late." he said, and you deliberately took his hand, uncaring if this was unsafe. Stepping into a cops car. It was likely to turn out fine, but you still had to play the 'what if' game.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you sniffed as you buckled yourself in. The officer taking the drivers seat. "Alright, where do ya live? I'll take you home nice and safe" he said, looking over at you. For some reason the officers caring eyes made you break a small smile, telling him your address. Thanking the universe for an easy way home.

"Whats got you all upset?" he asked, eyes keen on the road, "boy problems?" he joked softly, trying to up the mood. You frowned and let out a small sob, to which he frowned at. "Sorry." he mumbled out. The rest of the ride silent, but comfortable. You sincerely thanked him before stumbling inside of your house, kicking your shoes off and heading upstairs. Falling into your bed and letting your tears take over. Sobbing as you felt broken, being forgotton was a fear of yours. And when it came to life, with your best friend.. You couldn't help but feel worse.

At some point you fell asleep, but woke up around three in the morning to hear your phone dinging and vibrating. Deliriously picking it up and answering the phone call. Humming to indicate you were there.

"Fuck, finally! Where did you go? I've been trying to call you for ages!"

You knew that voice. Pedro's concerned tone made you choke out a sob, remembering how he left you alone for hours. "I- are you okay? Whats wrong?" he asked, but you couldn't get yourself to answer, croaking out an 'im sorry' before hanging up.

Around half an hour went by before you heard your front door swing open. You didn't care to get up, laying helplessly in bed as your thoughts took over you. But moments later, Pedro stood in your doorframe, soft eyes looking over at you. "Oh honey-" he said softly, walking to your side and sitting on the bed, hand coming to rest on your leg. "What happened? Did some guy hurt ya? Whats wrong-"

"Pedro" you mumbled out, not even bothering to wipe your tears this time. "You left me for hours.. Didn't say anything to me" you said weakly, "then you were all over that chick.. Obviously you wanted nothing to do with me.. So i left" you whispered, catching a sob in your throat. Pedro looked down at you, his eyes saddening. "I'm sorry.. I- just got distracted-" he said, noticing how his excused meant nothing. "I.. Really am sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel forgotten. Please forgive me" he said, feeling his own gut drop and swirl around.

You whimpered, covering yourself more with the blanket you had covering yourself. "Pedro.. Have you ever.. Like, Liked me?" you asked, avoiding his gaze. When he said nothing, you let out a shaky sigh. "I-i've been in love with you for years.. Pedro.. But you never seemed interested so i didn't say anything" you started, "but you always made sure i was there, made sure you had time for me. Maybe thats why i stuck to you"

You bit your lip, looking over at his soft face. Pedro sighed, "look i.. I didn't know. I should of though about you." he says, "if I'm being completely honest i thought you were never interested in me, so i never tried to say something.. But your on my mind every single day. I promise." he admitted, laying down next to you and pulling you into his chest. "I love you, so much. And i.. Want to make it up to you. What i did was shitty. I don't know why i was so blind." he stated, running his fingers through your hair.

You sobbed quietly, "do you really mean it?" you croaked, looking up at him. Pedro nodded, hand caressing and resting on your cheek. "I love you. I have been in love with you for so long.. Hearing you say how you feel just makes me realize how dumb i was for not taking my chances with such an amazing and gorgeous person like you" he said with a soft smile.

You couldn't help but crack a smile, "i-i love you to" you said softly, then eyes shifting to his lips. He chuckled, "I'm not going to make another mistake like that. I'm gonna treat you right.." he said, brushing your bottom lip with his thumb. "Starting now.." he mumbles, leaning down and connecting your lips in a soft and loving kiss.

*****

A/N: okay i might of been half asleep writing this but i hope you enjoyed at least! I know i enjoyed writing this! Not proofread because im tired and want this out ××

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #zaddy pedro #big angst #angst prompt #pedro pascal x reader #x reader #tlou show #fanfic #fanfiction #angsty fanfic #oneshot #Angsty oneshot #Sad crap :(#Pedro needs to be nicer bruv #tumblr fic #idk how to tag this #daddy pedro #pascalispunk

104 notes · View notes

shocktrooper262-blog · 3 months ago

Text

August 9th 1989 Plateau d'Albion, some 6,700m above the base. Time: 12:00

Final checks were being made. The BMD crews sat and waited. Squad Leaders went over the plans in one final detail. Outside the IL-76s, MiG-31s covered the force as they finally snaked their way though the Alps. The 76th Guards Airborne Division had trained months for this operation, their pilots and their troops talents being worth it more here than any future invasion of Iceland.

French ICBMs were being prepared for launch, and this could not be allowed to happen while the Soviet Army was clearing out Germany for their final drive to the Dutch-Belgian Border. With the French army bloodied yet standing, the Dutch-German corps still standing and the US Air Force still fighting- this was the time for bold plans.

For the 152nd Infantry Division, this day was another routine exercise. EBR Armored Car drove around on recon missions and garrison duty. French Commandos walked about the perimeter and regular troops did their best to pass another boring day. However, one of the more peculiar things popped up on early warning radar. A single dot. Then another, and another- before long the blob was sighted and the base went to short alert- then full alert as the first IL-76s crested in.

Crotale SAMs fired, their systems being jammed but some missiles still hit targets.

Time now, 12:08- the countdown began.

"Green light, go go go go!" Shouted the jumpmaster, dragging the first paras out of the plane. Anti-air bursts met the first man as he fell assisted. BMD-2s and 3s followed on their rocket assisted parachutes.

A flash message was thrown to Paris, the Soviets were in France. ---------

The reply came quick, "what do you mean" which was answered as the Base Commandant informed his bosses back in Paris he had BMD-2s and -3s sniffing out his recon on a head long charge to the perimeter of his base. He wanted the launch codes, and they told him he would get them soon.

The first BMD-2s and -3s broke the outer fence. Time 12:13. Desants poured out as the French Commandos opened fire with rifles and rifle grenades.

Two BMDs blew up, three others continued the charge- infantry in step assaulting towards the base. The French Platoon Leader yelled to his men falling back into the outer doorway-

"Twenty minutes, twenty minutes is all the time we have to hold them back for."

The Soviets knew this too. He was getting into his command BTR as he checked his watch.

"12:18! Get fucking moving! Double time!"

It was 12:20 when the Soviets got to the door. 12:22 when the RPO blasted the French troops defending it. 12:25 when the second set of VDV Sappers had to be brought up and fight their way closer to the command room.

12:26, the codes were passed to the Commandant

12:27- when the blast doors opened

and as the twenty minutes homed in- the first S3 missile launched from the base, as the VDV broke into the command room.

It ascended rapidly, outpacing everything minus the screams over the radio about a successful launch of one missile.

It target was unknown, but it was likely somewhere in Central Germany. It may have ruined the conventional war- had the MiG-31 on CAP not spotted it and burned its engines out insuring the missile was damaged beyond proper detonation.

The Gunfight at the Albion Plateau likely ended World War Three. Everyone had understood the scale of what happened, and just how close it was to ending the planet.

The VDV unit was trapped but as an offer- still was a good chip for peace terms, and most of NATO could accept knowing they forced the Soviets to the table first. Just with more strength than hoped for.

#worldbuilding #cold war era #one shot #writing #shock's writing

6 notes · View notes

toonqueen · 2 months ago

Text

Duckvember Day 9: Placid Duck

No beta again. Mighty Ducks story with some OCs in it I’ll just give a quick review lolol

Duluna L’Orange: My main OC that I ship with Nosedive. Duke’s younger sister. So far she has the least speaking lines this story ain’t about her. Lol

Chrono Dekeson: Leader of a group that came a year after the main team. He has his own mask that is more focused on giving strength than being able to scan things for info (aka Drake Ducaine’s mask.) Military background like Mal. Sweet guy, good tactician. He has smart battle strategy but I am not smart so pretend how I write him is smart please. Shipped with Mallory. @fluxchix character.

Nina: From a different Team of ducks that came from the planet Cheribu, a magical based planet where the ducks are brightly colored. Shipped with Grin. This is who the story is about. @fluxchix character.

—-------------------------------------------

“Oh this is great, it’ll be like a triple date!” Nosedive announced over the coms. From the other side Mallory made an annoyed grunt.

“Of course we’re always the closest to the trouble on every call,” Duluna grumbled as she looked up at the strange lights coming out of the warehouse they were standing near. Nosedive gave a shrug to Duluna’s question. Some lights outside the warehouse on the street started to flicker on and off.

Grin drove up on one of the duckcycles, Nina was sat right behind him. Despite her noticeable pink feathers, she did not stand out until she hopped off the motorcycle.

“Nina, almost didn’t see you behind Grin,” Nosedive teased. She shyly stayed by the bike, waiting for Grin to also get off the vehicle.

“Do we know why we got called here? Not just because someone was having an electrical issue?” Duluna asked Grin since Nosedive didn’t get any details from Mallory.

Nina stood straight, proud to know the answer, “Chrono mentioned a Dr. Droid?”

“Ah, that makes sense,” Nosedive then added, “Well it will be technology versus magic. You can just throw a few magic blasts at them and we can all go back to our dates!”

“It’s not that easy,” Nina quietly stated. Before she could explain in more detail, Mallory and Chrono came up on separate duckcycles.

“Well, this is a team combination we haven’t had before,” Mallory stated.

“We’ll work it out,” said Chrono with his mask already on and activated.

“I haven’t fought without at least one other member of my team with me,” Nina piped up quietly.

“Oh it’ll be FINE. Big Ol’ Grin will keep you safe while you do your magic blasts and healie spells,” Nosedive was quick to try to ease Nina’s concerns.

“I see,” Nina blushed at how Nosedive had said that. She cleared her throat, “Should I do a group energy buff?”

“What is that?,” Mallory was very uncertain about this.

“Man, it’s like downing an energy drink. Man, I can use it. It is getting kinda late,” Nosedive explained.

“Eh, I’ll pass,” Mallory replied.

“It also makes it easier for her to heal us from a distance. But I understand why it sounds a little off putting,” Chrono replied.

“Anyone else?” Nina asked. The others gave a nod agreeing. She waved her gold staff in a half circle and the other party members were energized.

“Oh, wow. That is a boost. Well, if I can’t fall asleep tonight I’ll know why,” Duluna sighed.

“Alright with the plan, Mallory and I will take point. We don’t have a tech with us to disarm any electronic security. So, Grin. Smash any machine that looks like it may start trouble. Nosedive, have his back when he’s doing that,” Chrono gave Grin and Nosedive a nod that the ducks returned, “Duluna, I want you to hold back some with Nina. She needs to not be interrupted if she is casting. Her attacks need more distance but you need to defend off anything that comes close to her.”

Duluna gave a nod to that, “Sounds good boss.”

“Wait, how come you get to stay with your date but you gotta split up the rest of us?” Nosedive complained.

“Nosedive. Shut it,” was the only response Mallory gave. Chrono decided to act like he didn’t hear Nosedive’s complaint. His choices had been completely based on everyone’s skills. He really wasn’t playing favorites.

“Let’s go around back while it seems like we still have the element of surprise,” Chrono suggested. He then led the rest of the team around the outside of the warehouse. There was a smaller door in the back. After checking the closest window, Chrono went in first. Mallory went in after him with her puckblaster out, ready to fire. They stepped a little further ahead before Grin and Nosedive snuck in after.

There were many machines buzzing around, but nothing that was attacking yet. There was something clearly being manufactured though. Moving assembly lines that were constructing many sphere shape machines. There was no sign of Dr. Droid or any security bots. Duluna stepped in next with Nina right behind her.

Duluna gave the room a quick once-over look from where she stood. She noticed a strange seam on the floor. The metal paneling was raised in a way that made the former art thief suspicious. It covered a large space almost from one wall to another. Nina tried to step beside Duluna but she held up her arm to prevent the pink duck from moving forward.

Before Duluna could vocalize to the rest of the group that there may be a trap, a large portion of the floor dropped. It was a huge trap door that instantly dropped the first four ducks that had entered. Duluna had been right on the edge and slide down below before Nina could snatch her arm.

Nina had been right on the edge, just enough space to still stand her feet on the edge. It happened so fast she did not have a chance to catch Duluna before she fell. Without thinking, she released her wings. She lifted in the air a bit before going to fly down to follow her teammates. Before she could follow, the large trap door slammed shut. She ended up crashing into the now solid floor. It was at a hard enough force it made her dizzy for a moment. She also got a mouthful of her blonde hair in the dive which she spit out of her bill.

She stayed down on the floor and glanced around from where she was at. Since the door did not drop again, she assumed maybe this ‘Droid’ assumed she had dropped too and was not free? Nina was never a team strategist and was now lost without any other team mates.

The pink duck stayed low and crawled over to a shadowed corner. Nina kept her eyes open for any other way to go downward to where her team went. She did find a grate where she was. Lifting it out, she found a small vent tunnel that went slightly downward at an angle. It wouldn’t drop her instantly down but it looked like the best option for now. With a simple whisper of a spell, she was able to hide her wings again so she could fit in the vent.

Luckily Nina wasn’t claustrophobic, or else this adventure would have bothered her. What was bothering her was that she had no idea where to go next. This was a tight maze where it was hard to turn and back up. Maybe she would be a little claustrophobic after this. She felt like she was going in circles forever. There was a realization that repeatedly doing the same thing was not getting her forward.

She closed her eyes and cleared out all her thoughts and worries. The state was a combination of the meditation she learned from Grin and what her mentor Bleu had taught her. Clearing her mind, Nina remembered she had done a buff on the group. That magic was still connected to her. Like a string, flowing like water. With her eyes closed she could visualize a line of light blue energy that went through the vents that would lead her to her team. Opening her eyes, she could still see the line of light. Staying as silent as possible she began to follow it.

—----

Part 2 coming on another prompt ahhhhh!

#duckvember #duckvember 2024 #mighty ducks the animated series #mdtas #Grin #nosedive flashblade #mallory mcmallard

5 notes · View notes

bright-tatters · 28 days ago

Text

Tatters #14

“Sir?” said Piper to Guard-Captain Minerva Dashden.

“Oh,” said Dashden, staring at Piper to the total exclusion of the big room where most of the officers kept their desks. “Do tell.”

Piper slid all the way into Dashden’s office and closed the door. “You know I visited Fortune at the observatory last night.”

“Yes. Yes, I do know that. I ordered you suspended without pay until you explained yourself.”

“Fortune, we had things to discuss, about…the Ward. I’m trying to understand why he doesn’t do some things. He’s not nearly as straight...talking, as I assumed he would be.”

“No doubt. You are un-suspended, actually. Central tells me you’re back on the force. You’ve got Councilor Reinaldo’s eye. Good luck to you.”

“I just want to do my job, sir.” And keep some things off the books. Some strange, pleasant things. There were things he would never tell the Reinaldos again.

“I’m not telling the entire department what you did and how you got out of it. I don’t see that going good places so long as you’re under the Council’s protection. But I am not impressed with your wining, dining, and bedding a crime lord all over this town. And I will be watching you.”

“Fair, sir. Sir, there is something I found out.”

“Regale me,” Dashden said in grade-A sarcasm.

Practicalities, betraying nothing but his tactical disposition. “He wants apprentices for the people installing electric light in the Ward. That was the only breath of current events, and I started it. He had a sniper. He signaled him or her with his hand.” Long hands tracing Piper’s hair, clusters of crimson teardrops banging at a corner of his vision, pale pearl circles at the other. “His cufflinks were mismatched, it’s possible that had significance when he waved.” The teardrop clusters were on his bed at home now, having snapped off in his hands. Maybe they had powers of summoning. He could think of a couple of types of cuffs that could get involved.

Minerva Dashden gave him her heavy-browed stare without holding back. “My, what a romantic evening that must have been.” Perfect sarcasm, not a hint of real understanding. “Get out, Piper. Do not put me in the position of defending your nocturnal activities again.”

Piper didn’t technically agree to that. He thought of a dozen places he could sneak with a discreet individual. Taking Fortune from the theoretical subject of ignored letters to someone real and solid and present had done a number on his ability to focus. He wanted to go back to those moments, any one would do, all together would be better. The man's surprise, just at the edge of his thoughtful silences. The way Piper could surprise him.

The Tatters precinct house wasn’t even in Tatters, technically. It huddled in the base of the mountain between Tatters and Lamps. At night you would see no sign of it but a pair of orange ember eyes from the great gargoyle sconces to either side of the fortification. The regular garrison could hold the building against well-equipped attackers for weeks. Some joked that they might have to, if the Trash ever got the material.

Piper had applied to the glittering headquarters in Central, but his real goal had been this, here. Tatters. It was no secret that the policemen of Tatters did not have control of their domain. People came here as a punishment for screwing up in more affluent districts. Piper served with enthusiasm and dedication. Plunging into his Ward was a homecoming, every time. It wasn’t beautiful and it wasn’t safe. But he belonged to it at a level he didn’t want to dismiss. Someday Tatters would need him—not a crime lord, not an interested bystander, him—and he would be there with a song on his lips.

“Piper?” It was the man at the front desk. “Telegram for you.”

“From who?”

“Fourth Station on Cameron Street.”

Near Fortune’s headquarters, for what that was worth. “Give it here.”

MISSING CUFFLINKS WATCH BOOK STOP RETURN TO VIC AT CAMERON AND DELTA STOP LET US STAY FRIENDLY STOP.

“I have no idea what this is talking about,” said Piper. Well, he knew the cufflinks. Maybe the other things had dropped from that lovely expensive best-when-removed coat. “Send this back: CUFFLINKS SAFE STOP OTHER ITEMS UNKNOWN STOP SORRY STOP. He may not like it but it’ll have to do.”

And then he walked out of the front door into the chill embrace of dusk. Orange sunlight still showed on the towers of Central and Forges, but the stars were out above. Another turn of the hours. Another day in Tatterdemalion.

His lips almost hummed on their own. That daydream, that question, that look, that stupid idea, close to two decades of boyish false starts—everything in him told him desire had to be met with decisiveness, no matter the risk. Maybe he’d come on a little strong, but Fortune had kissed him first.

#this tatterdemalion #oc: piper

4 notes · View notes

drama-rebellion · 9 months ago

Text

The Royal

(A short story about the vanity of life)

The club was run down, ironically called “the royal”. Only the most lost and poor souls came here to find some kind of oblivion. The walls were covered in graffiti and stamps from a decade ago, at the entrance no one asked your name or your age, you didn’t come here if you were looking for a party. You came here to forget.

Dark music with deep base hovered through the wide rooms that seemed like they hadn’t seen cleaning staff in ages.

Siza made her way across the room, pushed herself through the dancing pairs that were either drunk or on drugs, but definitely at a place far away from this world. She sat down at the dirty bar, let her head rest into one of her palms. A guy, blind on one eye with thin black hair and the age of centuries written in his face, answered her order. She knew him.

“Hi Rowan”, she greeted him with a wink of her fingers.

“The usual?”, he asked. She nodded, while her look went over the other passengers, that were only passing through here tonight, trying to get away from whatever shit was going on in their lives.

Even the lights that strayed over the dance floor seemed kind of grey and worn out. Nobody gave a shit about this club. The health department gave up a long time ago and the police officers were half of the customers. That’s what this city did to people.

They functioned, they worked, but in the end they just wanted to get away from all the miserable crap going on and escape to places like this. Off the grid, no worries here except for who paid for the next drink. Not only poor workers showed up here, no, even the once prestigious elite wanted to get away from everything for a while and the royal was just the right place to lose your mind.

“Is Dara here?”, Siza asked the bartender.

“Haven’t seen her”, he said, as he put the glass of cheap whiskey in front of her.

Siza was meant to meet her here tonight, but it was still early so she’d probably show up. While she was sipping at her drink, she watched the other people and wondered what their story was. You could never tell their age, as the main company in the city had altered a lot of DNA in their years. Some of the young girls could be over a century old; the senile man in the corner could only be forty as far as looks went. Nobody knew. That was the curse of this city. A lot of experimenting went wrong. Now misery could last five lifetimes or just a heartbeat of it. Although the company had been shut down two decades ago, the repercussions were visible at all times. Siza herself looked like in her late twenties, although she just passed her first century. And in no way it was a blessing, it was a curse for everyone. One reason why this city had been confined by a impenetrable wall to prevent any further spreading of the unwanted side effects. What their actual goal had been? Nobody knew. Only rumors made their rounds. Genetic editing? Super soldiers? Immortality? It didn’t matter anymore, things were as they were.

Finally Dara arrived. She squeezed herself through the dancing lunatics.

“Hi!”she greeted her out of breath. They exchanged a hug and a long kiss.

“Thought you wouldn’t come”, Siza said against the loud music.

“Of course I would. Just was delayed in the streets”.

First now Siza saw her bleeding lip and bruising cheek.

“Again?”

A nod as an answer.

It happened a lot that people, who got the gene of a prolonged life were attacked by not so lucky ones. Siza sighed. She had experienced it enough herself. They were jealous of something that everyone who possessed it would gladly give away.

“Here, have a drink”

With a wink of her hand she ordered two more, which appeared within thirty seconds in front of them

“But you’re alright?”

“Naah, nothing I can’t handle”, Dara said, took a deep sip and grinned. Siza knew that woman could defend herself, so she wasn’t all that concerned.

The music got deafening and for a while they both listened to the deep base, the yelling, the screams, the crying.

“Back to work tomorrow?”, Dara asked.

Siza nodded sadly. She hated her work. It basically consisted of cleaning up the old company buildings which were still after all that time, contaminated through and through.

“And you?”

Dara lifted her glass and drank it in one sip.

“Same”.

They didn’t get much time off. The outside world had stopped caring about what happened in this city. They were only the fucked up guinea pigs that survived, but weren’t allowed to go back to their kin again. And yet again it was on them to clean up the mess.

No week passed by without a riot of the workers, but what were they supposed to do? The government didn’t give a shit if they put down their work. They could just stop send the crappy rations and they would all die like flies. So they didn’t have much leverage. Work and live, however long that would be, or starve and solve the governments problems for once and for all.

They only reason they let them live in the first place was, that they had plans for the area and also raiding out an entire city didn’t make a good look on their image. So basically the government waited until everyone in this improvised cage of theirs died, of raids, radiation, old age, whatever happened the most quickly.

Siza and Dara had often had conversations about how to get out, how to overthrow this inhuman safekeeping. But there just was none. Rioting against them would only play right into their hands because then they had reason to just shoot them down like sheep in an alley.

So they lived day by day, working their asses off for the purpose of their own destruction. The irony couldn’t be more precise. But well, sometimes life didn’t work out the way you wanted it to. They both realized that pretty quickly and made the best of it. So they loved each other, because it was the only love they could get and one that was allowed. The kissed and had sex and got drunk on cheap whiskey. They made the best out of it, although it was the worst of it all. Sometimes you just didn’t get to choose.

“Happy birthday by the way”, Siza said to her girlfriend and raised her glass.

The other woman grinned sadly, tears sparkling in her eyes.

“Really?”

Siza just hugged her and whispered in her ear.

“One day this will all be over. So celebrate this day for one step in direction of absolution”.

“Do you think we will get absolution? After all that happened?”

Siza shrugged her shoulders. How would she know?

“I just think that every step out of this hell is a step to a better place. Even if it’s only death. Who knows what comes after.”

Dara starred into her glass. The music around them changed into a deep base sequence that vibrated through their bodies.

“You believe there is an ‘after’?”

Now Siza smiled.

“No. But it’s easier to believe in something that never will be than accept the inevitable reality”.

There was nothing to be said against that. So Dara only rested her head on her girlfriends shoulder, they drank their whiskey, listened to the crappy music and thought about all the “what if”s. Something came to Siza’s mind and she took Dara by the shoulders and looked her directly in the eyes.

“Life”, she said with a strong voice, “by all its anguish, is ours. It belongs to no other”, she said determined, “as long as we breathe, they haven’t won”.

Dara bend over for a kiss, gently, and it lasted for some long seconds, and they both grasped that little glimpse of luck they had.

Maybe it was a horrible place to live. But they lived nonetheless.

#dark #writing #short stories #melancholy #sad #depressing #mine #fictional #literature #drama rebellion stories

1 note · View note

musingsofabookworm1 · 1 year ago

Text

My Last 10 Reads

Here are my last 10!

Black Sheep by Rachel Harrison - 3 stars - This one was... a lot. It wasn't what I expected, and things really went off the rails, in my opinion, as the plot progressed. Vesper Wright, protagonist, left home at 18 and has tried to remove herself from her mother (famous actress) and everything else from her formative years. Then a wedding invitation from her cousin arrives causing Vesper to head home. The secrets she unburies make for quite a wild ride. Well written: good mix of prose and dialog.

Let Us Descend by Jesmyn Ward - 4 stars - I'd been waiting for this one! Protagonist Annis is a slave in the Civil-War-era South who has been sold. She endures a march, with other female slaves, to her new owner. This march leads her on a journey within herself thanks to the earth and water and spirits. Descended from an African warrior, Annis has been bred to survive the toughest of conditions. And this march is the toughest condition of them all. Beautifully written.

I'm Glad My Mom Died by Jeanette McCurdy - 5 stars - You could've asked me prior to reading this to pick McCurdy out of a lineup or tell you why she was famous, and I'd be unable to on both accounts. But this came from the hands of a trusted co-worker and fellow reader, so I had to give it a shot. And wow! I was immediately engaged. Short chapters showing bits and pieces of a relationship with her toxic mother kept me engaged throughout. I’m not sure who exactly I’d recommend this to, but I recommend it highly!

Lights Out by Elise Hart Kipness - 2 stars - This is a pretty generic murder mystery that had nothing that brought it above average for me. Former-Olympian-turned-sports-reporter finds herself in the middle of a career “scandal” when her best friend’s NBA-star husband is found dead. Said best friend is the main suspect. A simple read at best, and if you want a good mystery, you can find something better than this.

The Last Girls Standing by Jennifer Dugan - 4 stars - I got this YA horror confused with another YA horror I read last month: You’re Not Supposed to Die Tonight. Similar covers, plots, and character similarities. Sloan and her girlfriend, Cherry, are the sole survivors of a ritual killing at a summer camp. Sloan trying to uncover said ritual makes this one a solid effort. Solid YA!

The Witch of Maracoor by Gergory Maguire - 4 stars - This marks the third and last installment of the Another Day series. The title character is Rainary Ko - the granddaughter of the infamous Elphaba Thropp of Maguire’s Wicked series. As this is book three, no details. I wasn’t satisfied enough to give it five stars, but I was rapidly turning pages to get to the end. And consequently sad to get to the end as it was over. It’s always hard to say goodbye to a good series. But I thought that Out of Oz (Wicked #4) was then end, and then this trilogy arrived. Maybe Maguire will miss Oz enough to bring it back once again!

The Reformatory by Tananarive Due - 4 stars - My only beef with this one was that it was too long at nearly 600 pages. This book was getting a lot of hype in the literary podcasts and social media pages I follow, so I was excited to read it. It is a historical horror. Robert Stephens, 12, is sent to Gracetown School for Boys (the more formal name of the title place) in 1950 Jim Crow Florida after kicking a white man to defend his older sister. While his sister does everything in her power to get him out, Robbie quickly starts enduring the trials of life at Gracetown. The upper level staff there soon learn Robbie can see haints, or ghosts, and want to use this to their advantage. Based on a real reformatory in the South where a relative of the author spent time, this is a difficult read knowing that the real horrors of Gracetown were not the ghosts but the things that the residents endured in real life.

Elatsoe by Darcie Little Badger - 3 stars - I don’t quite know what to write about this one. I couldn’t get into it. I maybe should have saved it for another time. But here’s what the plot summary on the flap said: Imagine an America very similar to our own. It's got homework, best friends, and pistachio ice cream.There are some differences. This America has been shaped dramatically by the magic, monsters, knowledge, and legends of its peoples, those Indigenous and those not. Some of these forces are charmingly everyday, like the ability to make an orb of light appear or travel across the world through rings of fungi. But other forces are less charming and should never see the light of day. Elatsoe lives in this slightly stranger America. She can raise the ghosts of dead animals, a skill passed down through generations of her Lipan Apache family. Her beloved cousin has just been murdered in a town that wants no prying eyes. But she is going to do more than pry. The picture-perfect facade of Willowbee masks gruesome secrets, and she will rely on her wits, skills, and friends to tear off the mask and protect her family.

Good Girls Don’t Die by Christina Henry - 4 stars - I’m not sure when I pre-ordered this as Henry is an auto-buy for me. For some reason, our library doesn’t carry her books. I like that her books are so different from one another. You never know what you’ll get, but you can assure it’ll be good. This one has four parts. The first is about Celia who wakes up one day and does not remember at all the life she is living. She doesn’t recognize her daughter or husband despite seeing family pictures on the wall. She gathers what her job is and heads there to live a day in the life of whomever she seems to be. Next, Allie’s birthday trip turns into a disaster when her best friend’s boyfriend bring their group to a secluded cabin and finds the utmost trouble. Finally, Maggie finds herself in a most dangerous situation trying to get home to her daughter. Part four brings the four women together in a most unpredictable way!

The Princess by Wendy Holden - 4 stars - I’m not a know-it-all when it comes to the British royals. I didn’t know much about Diana before her life as the Princess of Wales. This fictionalization of Diana is told through different third-person perspectives of Diana and those she came in frequent contact with from when she went to college up until she married Charles. Though fiction, it is based on fact, and I learned some sad details about her pre-royal existence.

0 notes

moonflowerchanniesgirl · 2 years ago

Text

My Beautiful Mistake

Pairing: idol chan x ex idol reader

Genre: angst, pure angst,

Warning: break up, less than ideal idol company, overthinking, anxiety, reader does not communicate

Summary: He was never one to break a promise and you couldn’t help but wonder if that was the reason he stayed with you.

Word Count: 1.5k

Part 2 My Breautiful Choice

Authors note: this is not an accurate representation of stray kids but an interpretation based on an idea that stems from them.

This kinda stemmed mostly from my anxiety lol, I tend to overthink a lot, like a lot a lot. It’s a little bit based on what happened with Hyuna and Dawn. I love Chan but sometimes the way he says and does things give me so much anxiety.

We all make mistakes, that's part of human nature. Sometimes we just don’t know that we’ve made a mistake or we don’t want to think that we’ve made one at all. How were you supposed to admit that your mistake was that you fell in love with a man that had the greatest sense of responsibility you’ve ever seen?

The thought didn’t pop into your head until recently. It started innocently enough with Changbin asking you a simple question.

“Do you think you would ever want to perform on stage again?” He asked as you were cuddled against Chan on the sofa in their dorm watching Show Music Core to support Lee Know. The second he asked the question you felt Chan physically tense up as he waited for your answer.

“No, not really, I like being behind the scenes,” you answered honestly and Chan relaxed but you could tell that his mind was still tensed up. He barely responded to you when you tried to talk to him that night, so caught in his own head. It was at that moment that you started to wonder about everything in the relationship.

You met Chan when you were still an idol, your two groups debuted around the same time so you often saw each other around. You were from a much smaller agency and were never on the same level of popularity as Stray Kids but they always greeted you guys nicely and sometimes the two groups would chat in the downtime while waiting to go on stage. You made the music for your group and you would chat with Chan about producing. He listened to a few of your group's songs in Chan’s room as he praised your producing skills and many Stays became a fan of your group as well. You were thankful so you offered to treat him to a meal and over the meal you guys bonded over your love of music and food. It was a tiny flame of a crush that grew bigger and bigger over time. There came a point where you couldn’t imagine not hearing his voice on the phone as you both worked on songs in your individual studios. You cherished his laughter as you made a lame joke, the way he smiled softly when you face timed him to complain about writer's block, the way that he would send you a “fighting” paired with a wolf emoji before you would go on stage. You really liked him and hoped that he felt the same.

After two years of pining for him and holding in your feelings, you finally confessed. You were over the moon when he said he felt the same. It was a dream come true and even though there wasn’t much that changed between the two of you, it felt wonderful to be able to call him your boyfriend…to a very select few people of course. The two of you kept the info to only his and your members. His dating ban was up but it wasn’t wisest to be dating openly as an idol and your company didn’t have a ban but your CEO did have a weird fixation on how “pure” the girls were supposed to be. A fact you learned the hard way when a photo of you and Chan hugging backstage leaked. The two of you should have been more careful but your group had won your first major award and you just couldn’t keep it in.

Your company immediately terminated your contract for ‘immoral conduct’ and you were kicked out of your group without even a chance to defend yourself. Compared to you, Chan got a light scolding for being so careless in a public place and some angry comments from fans that faded away after Stays mass reported a few accounts. You literally went from the top of the world to rock bottom and you couldn’t even talk to Chan for a few days as all you did was cry. Why were you being punished for being in love? When you finally felt stable enough to see Chan again, he held you close as if he was scared that you would just drift away.

“No matter what happens, I will always be here for you,” he said as he cradled your head against his chest. “I will always be by your side loving you.”

It was a promise he kept as you started working as a full-time producer instead of an idol. It let you keep working with music while also giving you a schedule that let you be around Chan more often. He really barely let you leave his side as he whined and aegyoed his way into getting you to join them on their hectic tours. You would work in the hotel room while they rehearsed, watch them on stage, and then go back to the hotel to cuddle with your tired yet somehow energetic boyfriend. The boys were used to you being around and Stays even made a game where they tried to spot you in the back of SKZ talker videos. You were happy in your current situation, happier than you thought you would ever be but then the doubt crept in.

It started with the question Changbin asked and then you caught Chan watching an old fancam of you at a music show. You came to their dorm after a meeting and saw Chan watching the fancam on his TV as you quietly pushed open the door to his room in hopes of surprising him. He didn’t notice you come in and you stared at the complicated expression on his face. You didn’t know that he watched your old fancams and you couldn’t imagine why he did. You probably should have talked to him about it but instead, you backed away, closed the door, and sent him a text that you were about to enter their dorm. You pushed open the door 5 minutes later to see Chan smile up at you as the tv only displayed his computer background.

You couldn't help but overthink about the things you noticed and then you combined that with your understanding of your boyfriend. He was sweet, caring, warm, hardworking, and responsible. Almost too responsible, never breaking his promise of doing Chan’s room weekly even if he was dead tired or busy. The more you dwelled upon it the more it festered in your brain. Bangchan never broke a promise, even if that promise didn’t make him happy. How many times did you watch him work himself to death or suffer because of a promise he made? The late nights helping the boys with their music when he should have been sleeping. How many times did you notice him feel responsible for something that was out of his control? The way he cried in your arms about Hyunjin having to take a hiatus. Each promise was a weight on his shoulder and you had unknowingly been adding to that.

The words that reassured you when you were at your lowest chained him to you. Did he want that or did he just feel responsible for the aftermath? The easiest thing you could do was just ask him but… how could you? You mulled over how to bring it up but every time you tried it was like your brain fried itself. How were you supposed to ask him if he actually wanted to be with you or if he just felt responsible to have to keep being with you? You thought back to every little argument between the two of you, every instance where you might have gotten on his nerve, every time he took you on a date instead of resting like he needed because he promised to take you out.

The final straw was when you were out with the boys at a bar. They were having a bit of a drink and celebrating before they started preparing for the next album. Most of the boys were tipsy while you had chosen to remain pretty sober in case you spilled the thoughts that had been plaguing your mind all these days.

“Hyung do you think you and noona will get married someday?” Hyunjin asked with a giggle while the other boys cooed in anticipation of Chan’s answer. How they got to this topic, you had no idea.

“Of courseeee I promised I would always be by their side!” Chan answered, the alcohol making him bolder in front of the boys than usual. He gave you a kiss and he was so tipsy that he didn’t notice how you had both your hands clenched tight. He would marry you because he promised you, not because he loved you.

That night you made a decision. While he slept the alcohol off in bed, you packed everything of yours up from his dorm. Running away was easier than having to sit him down and have him tell you directly that your worst fears were confirmed. You knew that you couldn’t leave him with no explanation though, knowing him, he would panic and think that he did something wrong to make you leave. He didn’t, you just finally woke up from your perfect fantasy. You left him a simple note before you took your suitcase and left their dorm.

I love you so much Chan, but I realized that I’ve been chaining you down this whole time. Don’t worry about the promises you made to me anymore, I just want you to be happy now. Goodbye Chan.

#Chan #bangchan #chan angst #skz angst #skz imagine #stray kids imagine #stray kids angst #chan imagines #chan x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic #stray kids #skz #skz fanfic #moonflower writings

197 notes · View notes

sugarylawliet · 4 years ago

Text

no good for me (light yagami x reader)

i’m back lol

> warnings: smut, degradation, spit kink, inappropriate use of the death note, VERY toxic relationship, song fic kinda, lyrics are in bold and italics, based off of diet mountain dew by lana del ray

> tag list: @ygm1slt @cradiot28

❛ you’re no good for me, baby you’re no good for me ❜

Nothing on this earth scared you more than the man you were about to see; the pretty boy brunette flaunting good grades and a picturesque family life whose facade of ambitious, respectful young man was a mask almost no one could see through. Some people felt dread at the thought of spiders or snakes, felt fear in their stomach imagining the paranormal, shadow ghosts or criminal stalkers invading their comfort zones. None of these perfectly rational fears scared you the way Light Yagami scared you. There was no fear to be had at the thought of something undesirable creeping its way into your privacy or comfort zone, because Light had manipulated his way into your comfort and trust long ago. He was scarier than a murderer ready to kill at an urge’s call, his blood lust hid in shadows behind his golden boy facade, his words were tools and his touches were negotiations. You couldn’t trust a single thing that came from his mouth, you often questioned your own sanity. Light Yagami had a terrifying grip on you, and it was exactly what he wanted.

Your eyes scan over the text Light had sent you for the millionth time, the words almost ingrained in your head at this point.

Come to my house. We need to talk.

You were sure he kept his words vague on purpose, yet another tactic to keep you at his disposal out of pure fear. You weren’t exactly sure if you loved Light anymore; what was your definition of love at this point? You loved him, yes, but was it out of obligation? Was it survival instinct?

It was true, in the beginning you had loved Light purely and truly. You believed his ambition was justice, to make the world a better and safer place for you. But as time went on, “Kira doesn’t kill innocents” began racking up more and more exceptions, and as the twisted justifications spilled from his mouth, so did the gaslighting. Over and over, his sweet words convinced you to keep coming back. His empty promises were a drug and you were addicted.

His text, you were sure, was a reference to this fizzling out of your love for him. He could sense it, and surely he must have found out you were planning on leaving. You weren’t planning on revealing that he’s Kira- that would cause more commotion you were not interested in being a part of- no, you simply wanted to move states, get away and forget about Light Yagami, forget about Kira and Ryuzaki and Ryuk and everything that has overtaken your life. However, if he did find out your plans to skip town, you may just have to reveal that he’s Kira for safety measures.

❛ you’re no good for me, but baby i want you ❜

Hestiently, you opened the door you had been staring at blankly for what felt like hours. Light had been staying in an upscale hotel during the investigation, so maybe the other tenants could hear you if you screamed for help; the overdramatic thought brought you comfort.

You walk in the room, closing the door behind you. You’re met with the sight of Light’s back as he sits in the rolling chair across the room. In the absence of any words, without even seeing his face, you know he’s mad. Every slight change of Light’s emotions could strangle a whole room by tension alone; his aura manipulated the feeling in the air, which served as a helpful alarm to know when he is upset. And man, is he upset.

You open your mouth to greet him, but he cuts you off, spinning around in his chair to face you, “Don’t talk.” You nod and close your mouth. Why do you even listen to what he says?

“I knew I couldn’t trust you. From the very beginning I knew you would run that pretty little mouth of yours. I know you’re planning on leaving. And then what? Telling the first news outlet you see that I’m Kira?”

“No Light,”

“I said don’t talk.” He stands up from his chair, “If you tell everyone, you’ll also have to tell on yourself. Imagine what everyone would think of you if they knew...You knew I was Kira and you still dated me, you defended me, you kept my secret, you even got on your knees for me. Are you gonna tell that to the media? That you let Kira fuck you?”

You purse your lips, restraining yourself from talking back. You knew it would only make things worse, but you couldn’t stand the way he talked down on you and expected you to take it.

“Come here.” He motioned to his desk and you followed, sitting on his lap per his instruction. He placed the death note open on the desk, handing you the pen. With one hand gripping yours and the other on your hip, he began to guide your hand, the pen spilling out the first letter of your name on the pages.

❛ do you think we’ll be in love forever? ❜

“N-No, Light, you can’t do this, please.” You begged, your heart rate quickening as you realize what he was doing. It can’t end like this, it just can’t.

“Shhh, just write. That’s it, baby. This is what bad girls get, you see?” His death grip tightened on your hand as he spelled out your name, the last letters leering closer and closer before you could register the implications of what he was doing. This was it, this was really it.

Light lets his free hand wander up to your jawline, pulling your face closer to yours and enveloping you in a kiss as he wrote the last letter of your name. You shake your head with a whine, however he disregards your concerns and runs his hand on your upper thigh.

“What’s the matter, Y/n? Don’t wanna spend your last moments with me?~” His nose kisses your neck, and the soft, sensual gestures almost make you forget your life was quite literally slipping away at every second that ticked by. 40 seconds. You had 40 seconds to do something.

You jump off of Light’s lap, reality rushing to your lungs as you felt your world closing in. Your pants become heavier, harsh air ripping through your throat as if they were the last breaths you would ever take because, well- they were.

Your head felt buzzing and dizzy as you fell to your knees, crawling towards Light who had spun around in his chair so his back was facing you; completely apathetic. After all you’ve been through together, after all you’ve done for him, nothing. Nothing at all.

You crawl closer, grasping towards the notebook Light held in his hands, your weakness limiting your reach as anxiety stole your clearness of mind. He only chuckles at your meek attempts to save your own life. Your head was racing as your nervousness blacked out everything in the room except for the little black notebook your boyfriend had a death grip on; ‘I’m running out of time, I’m going to die, I need the death note, I need to cross my name out, I need it I need it I need it I-’

“Goodbye, Y/N. You were fun to play with for a while.” Light kisses your nose with an arrogant smirk, peeling your hands off from his lap and wrists before checking his watch, signaling your last few seconds.

You quit your pitiful attempts to grab the notebook and instead push yourself further and further away from Light until your back hit the wall, lacing your fingers tightly in your hair as you cried your last moments away.

“5, 4, 3 2...” Light spoke.

“No no no no no, please god,” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut in preparation for the pangs you would soon feel in your chest.

“1...”

And

Nothing.

You breathe. You let the air flood your lungs; it shouldn’t be possible. You dare to open your eyes, revealing the same scene. You, pathetically on the floor with tears down your face, Light before you in his chair with his head thrown back in a maniacal laugh.

He tossed the death note down to you, like a dog being thrown a bone. You frantically grab it and flip to the newest page, your name scratched out with two thick lines.

You were alive- no, he let you live.

❛ hit me my darling tonight, i don’t know why but i like it

“Well?” Light asks expectingly, standing up from his chair and kicking it to the side of the room. You look up at him questioningly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as tears still brimmed your eyes from the just-curved anxiety attack.

“No ‘thank you’? I spared your life even after you betrayed me- lied to me. You’re so ungrateful.”

“I, I-” You found it difficult to shape your words with your hitching breath. You inhale deeply, eyes closed, calming down, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Light.”

Why were you even apologizing?

“I’m so sorry, please, just take me back. I’m sorry.” The words spilled from your mouth so quickly simply because they felt right. You needed to apologize, you did wrong, you need to be good. You wanted him back more than anything so you can be good.

❛ scary, my god, you’re divine ❜

“That’s right,” Light smiled, his voice softening unnaturally, “Now, how about you come over here and show me just how sorry you are.”

You hesitate for a second before crawling over to him. You sit obediently with your legs beneath your thighs on the floor in front of him.

“Mm, that’s my babygirl.” He pets your head affectionately, coherencing a smile from you. Despite everything he’s done, he always knew how to reel you back in. You needed the approval. You needed his approval.

You look up at him with puppydog eyes, to which he cocks his head to the side. “You know what I want.”

Nodding, you slowly unzipper his khaki pants and pull out his cock. You run your hand up and down, pumping it slowly.

“Don’t be a fucking tease” Light scoffs, raking his fingers through your hair and forcing your mouth down onto him. That sweet, caring demeanor was gone in barley a second- of course it was. What were you expecting? It was a thinly veiled facade and you fell for it everytime without exception.

Light groans, pushing your head further onto him as you try not to gag. You feel the tip of him hit the back of your throat as he thrusts into your mouth faster. “God, Y/N, you take my cock so well. Hah, if only the media could see you now. Poor little Y/N wants to run away from big bad Kira, meanwhile here she is on her knees for him, sucking him off like the dirty slut she is.”

He lets out a deep sigh before pulling out of your mouth. “Be useful for once and get on the bed.” He commands, bringing you to your feet with his strong grip on your hair and pushing you in the direction of the bed. You obey, sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for his next instruction.

Light slinks over to you, standing over your figure as his delicate fingers dance up your inner thigh. He takes off your skirt and slowly rubs your clit through the fabric of your panties.

“Mmm, Light, more...” You buck your hips up to meet his touch, his movements were agonizingly slow and you needed more friction.

“More?” At once he removes his hand from between your legs and grabs your face, your jaw in between the tight hold of his thumb and forefingers. “You want more, huh? You don’t get to make demands of me. You really think i’m gonna give you what you want after that stunt you pulled? Hah, I’m not letting you off that easy.”

You let out a whine, bucking your hips again asking to be touched.

“Aww, poor baby...” Light cooed, “Open up.” You obeyed, opening your mouth before Light brought your face closer to his, spitting in your mouth. “Now swallow.”

You do, earning a smirk from Light. “Mm, good girl. Good girls get rewarded.”

He pulls your panties aside before dipping two slender fingers inside you; wasting no time, he pumps them in and out frantically.

“Oh god Light, fuck,”

“You’re so wet for me Y/N, you like this, don’t you? I knew you would, such a dirty whore. You like when I treat you like this? You like being treated for the slut you are? God, you probably got wet when I almost killed you. It makes me hard, having you under my thumb like this, under my control...”

“Fuck Light, it feels so good, I’m close...”

Quickly, he removes his fingers from you once again, earning a cry from you at the loss of heat. “Please Light, I need you so bad,” You beg.

“What did I say? You’re still not forgiven for that stunt you pulled. Don’t whine.” He wraps his hand around your throat, pushing you down onto your back.

He fully pulls his boxers down, aligning himself with your entrance.

“Beg for it.”

“Please, please light, god, I need it so badly. I want you.”

“Hmm, yeah? You’re so desperate for my cock? I’m not convinced.”

“Please, Light, I’ll never be bad again, I’ll never mess up again. I need your cock so badly, I need you to use me. Do anything you want.”

“Mm, that’s more like it,” Light remarks before pushing into you, earning a loud moan. HIs thrusts were slow, no doubt teasing you.

“Oh, Light, please, faster...”

“More demands? God, you’re such a needy slut. Fine.” His grip on your throat tightens, pushing you further into the bed as he snaps his hips into you without mercy. His pace is relentless, quickly finding your g-spot.

“Fuck, Light. It... it feels- fuck,”

“Hah, stupid slut, what’s wrong? Cat’s got your tongue? Or is it me fucking you so hard you can’t even think straight, can’t form sentences?”

His words only egg on your approaching orgasam, “Hmmph, it- it feels so good. I’m gonna...”

With that, Light pulls you up slightly by your neck before slamming you roughly back into the bed, thrusting into you with speed. “Cum, show me how sorry you are.”

You obey, releasing with a loud moan of his name. He finishes soon after, roughly letting go of your throat. “Clean yourself up. You look like a fucking mess.”

You slip your panties and skirt back on as Light sits apathetically at his desk, his focus buried in paperwork. You heart skinks to your stomach.

Once you finish dressing, Light allows you to leave, informing you of the Kira case work he had to finish and opening the door for you.

“And Y/N,” He catches your attention before you step into the hallway of the hotel, “Let this be a lesson. Don’t ever try to leave me again. You’re mine.” He grabs your jaw and kisses you tenderly- but you weren’t stupid. You knew the motivation behind it, and let you still kissed his soft lips back and let yourself melt into him.

“Goodbye,” He remarks after pulling away, “Behave yourself.”. The door slams in your face.

You can still feel his cum dripping from your heat daring to spill out of your panties. The hallway was empty, allowing reality to rush to you at once. Your senses only seem clear when you were alone- with Light, you didn’t see with your own eyes or hear with your own ears.

You let your back touch the door of Light’s hotel room, slowly sliding down until you were sitting on the carpeted floor. Your life was broken pieces and you cut yourself picking up the glass shards, relishing in the fact that your boyfriend liked the way the blood looked on your pricked fingers.

❛ hurt me and tell me you’re mine, i don’t know why but i like it. ❜

#i did not proof read this lol sorry for mistakes #Light Yagami #light yagami x reader #light yagami x reader smut #light yagami smut #toxic! light yagami #death note #death note smut #anime #death note x reader

2K notes · View notes

luvliewriting · 2 years ago

Note

could you turn the Jacob Custos first kiss headcanons into a fic pls?

❦Hopelessly Devoted❦

Pairing: Jacob Custos x GN!Reader

Warnings: wouldn't be a Luvlie Fic if there wasn't some angst

Note: If you couldn't tell this was based off the song Hopelessly Devoted from Grease. I may have changed somethings from the headcannon but hey it still works

❦❦❦

Stupid summer fling, that's all it was. Jacob always said that him and Emma was just a fling, something to pass the time. Yet when the words 'girlfriend' left his lips at that stupid party what were you to think? No one just calls a summer fling their girlfriend! It felt wrong almost to be walking to the docks but he seemed pretty upset when he stormed off. You felt like it was your obligation to go check if he was okay as his bestfriend.

Ah bestfriend, what an interesting phrase you know. Last time you checked, bestfriends don't see each other naked, don't cuddle at night when the other has a nightmare or is sad etc. There was that one time on August 9th that you and Jacob may have had too much to drink one night and woke up beside each other bare as the day you were both born. Of course you two don't remember a single thing that happened that night and promised to never talk about it.

Of course you never forgot that morning and a part of you wished you weren't too drunk to forget. You had woken up long before Jacob did that morning but wanted to enjoy the moment while it lasted so when he woke up you pretended to still be asleep so he would wake you up. You remembered how beautiful he looked that night, his hair tossed in different places on his head, his lips parted slightly, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath.

You heard the dock wood creak under your feet as you walked under the dim light towards the crying man who sat on the dock edge, feet hanging over the edge. You heard him, he was crying. You sighed rolling your eyes sitting down beside the boy, it was like you weren't even there, he didn't even greet you so you took the burden, "you know Emma isn't your girlfriend right? You took broke up."

He didn't say anything but as you glanced at his fist, you saw it tighten at his sides. You looked at his teary eyes, puffy and red. You wanted to hug him but at the same time you just wanted to knock him out.

"No means no Jacob," you tried to explain, his fist tightened a little more but you kept going, "Emma doesn't want you. It was a summer fling, that's all she wanted."

His fist tightened more.

"I mean why can't you just see that? Why do you keep pining over something that isn't there?"

He snapped, getting up from the dock edge towering over you as he shouted, "it was there!" You stood as well, standing toe to toe with Jacob as he vented, "I loved her Y/N! I thought as my bestfriend you would understand that."

"And I thought as well that maybe you could see something so obvious?" You argued back at the man in the green jumper, he ignored your words going to walk away as you grabbed him harshly, not letting him leave as he tried to tug you away, "Jacob Antonio Castos don't you fucking walk away."

He tried to tug himself free as you tightened your hold on him, "what not like you care? Emma is the only one that's ever cared!"

"You fucking idiot," you felt anger rushing through your blood as you wiped Jacob around, jabbing your finger into his chest making him move back ever so slightly with each jab, "who the fuck has been there? Who has been the one to let you stay at their house on bad days? Who has defended you when you were being bullied? Who came to each one of your games? Who fucking loved you despite you going to make out with Emma every five seconds!?"

Eventually Jacob reached the end of the dock, one more jab would send him over and that's exactly happened. With one more swift jab, he tumbled going to grab you for support but pulling you down under the water with him.

When you two surfaced, you gasped for air while Jacob stared at you shocked. You swam back to the dock, going to pull yourself out but Jacob stayed in the water as he stared at you, "you love me?"

You froze, half in the water and half out. Your hair was drenched, your clothes heavy and soaked, you looked at him from the corner of your eyes as you pulled yourself up on the dock, "not like it matters. Emma, remember?"

You went to leave the dock, water dripping down your body before you were grabbed and turned around by Jacob. You went to ask him what he was doing but he just cupped your face in his palms, placing your lips against his. You were shocked at first but than melted into it.

You wrapped your arms around his neck feeling his on your waist. You felt him smile into the kiss before he pulled away, resting your forehead against yours, speaking softly, "I'm so sorry."

You looked at him, a small frown on your face, "but what about Emma?"

Jacob leaned away from you, tilting your chin to look at him, "trust me, I got it."

❦❦❦

Thank you for reading, sorry it kinda ended weird. Please like and please reblog as it really does help me out

Taglist:

❦❦❦

#jacob custos #jacob custos x reader #the quarry #the quarry x reader

66 notes · View notes

sturchling · 4 years ago

Note

Can I get a very salt story where Marinette leaves her school for a better one. No one is the class notices. Bustier assumes she is sick but time goes by and she see Marinette eating lunch with her new friends and thinks she is skipping calls the trutant people,on her. Only it back fires on her and the class

Marinette had finally had enough. Things had gotten so much worse at the school lately. The whole class had turned against her. Not even Adrien was trying to defend her anymore. He had tried in the beginning, but his father made it clear that Adrien was not to have any conflict with Lila or he would be pulled out of school. When he noticed that the class had also started to turn against him the longer he defended Marinette, he immediately stopped and started to ignore her. It hurt Marinette deeply that not even Adrien, who knew about Lila’s lies, would stick by her. The school faculty had also turned against Marinette. Despite Lila’s “lying disease” being known by the school, they still believed every awful thing that Lila accused her of. She was given multiple detentions, and was even suspended a few times. Marinette’s parents stuck by her through it all, but even with their support, Marinette couldn’t stay at Dupont. Enough was enough.

-----------------------

Marinette started applying to new schools as soon as she made up her mind. There were many fantastic schools in Paris, and several of them had an amazing art program, which would be essential for her future design career. Marinette had really hesitated to leave her class, but after the most recent unwarranted suspension and how the class had been treating her, Marinette was done. Tikki also approved of the decision, as she had been worried that the negative energy of the akuma class was going to get her holder akumatized before much longer. It would be immeasurably better for Marinette to get away from that class. Soon, Marinette received dozens of acceptance letters from the schools she applied to. They all took one look at her portfolio and application and wanted her to attend their school. Marinette is, after all, a very impressive and accomplished teen.

-------------------------

Marinette decided which school she was going to and sent all her enrollment paper work with her parent’s help. She was out of Dupont and at her new school by Monday. She hadn’t given any notice at Dupont, but she doubted that they would even notice she was missing. They hadn’t cared about her presence lately, unless Lila had made up some story about her. While she was apprehensive, Marinette quickly grew accustomed to her new school, and made a lot of friends. She loved her new school and all her new friends. She was really happy.

-----------------------

Marinette was right. The class didn’t notice that Marinette was no longer attending class. But Mrs. Bustier did. She did think it was odd, Marinette hardly ever missed school. But Mrs. Bustier just assumed that Marinette was sick or something and would be back soon. After all, Mrs. Bustier hadn’t heard anything about Marinette not being in class, so it couldn’t be too serious. Probably just a bad cold.

-----------------------

But weeks went by and Marinette still didn’t come back. Mrs. Bustier was growing less confident as the days went by. Where could Marinette be? It didn’t make any sense. Surely if Marinette was sick enough to miss weeks of school, her parents would have called to explain. Mrs. Bustier was walking through the park on her lunch break, when she saw her. Marinette was sitting at a small café, surrounded by a bunch of kids that Mrs. Bustier didn’t recognize. They were laughing and having a great time, eating lunch. Mrs. Bustier was shocked. Marinette must be skipping school! Mrs. Bustier couldn’t believe how far her former star student had fallen. It was time to teach Marinette a lesson. So, Mrs. Bustier called the truant officer for the school district.

-----------------------

Officer Garnier arrived at the bakery later that day, just before close. He had been sent to inquire about Miss Dupain-Cheng and why she hadn’t been attending classes. When he was invited in to the apartment, he was expecting the parents and student to deny being truant or make up some excuse, like an illness. Instead, he was told that Marinette actually wasn’t a Dupont student. And that Marinette had been attending classes, but at her new school. He was also interested to hear that the school hadn’t contacted the family regarding their daughter’s attendance before calling him. It was clear to Officer Garnier, as he was leaving, that he would need to make some calls.

-----------------------

The next day, Mrs. Bustier was called into Mr. Damocles’ office. When she arrived, she saw Mr. Damocles’ looking nervously at the people sitting in front of him. The man was obviously the truant officer for their district, based on his uniform. And Mrs. Bustier recognized the woman as the head of the board of education. The woman turned to Mrs. Bustier as she came in and fixed her with a cold glare. “Mrs. Bustier, when you noticed that Miss Dupain-Cheng hadn’t been to class lately, why didn’t you contact her family before calling Officer Garnier?” Mrs. Bustier stammered for a moment, before answering. “Well, at first I assumed Marinette was simply ill, but then I saw her at a café so I knew she had to be skipping.” Officer Garnier rolled his eyes. “For your information Mrs. Bustier, I spoke with the family last night and Marinette was not skipping. She was simply on her lunch break at her new school. She transferred weeks ago and neither you nor Mr. Damocles had any idea.”

-------------------------

Needless to say, things didn’t get better from there. Both Mr. Damocles and Mrs. Bustier tried to defend themselves and their actions, but it was to no avail. They were both immediately suspended, pending an investigation into their behavior. Of course, the investigation revealed their blatant pattern of favoritism, their handling of bullying, and how Miss Dupain-Cheng had been treated. Once everything came to light, the two educators were immediately fired. The school went through major changes in how they handle bullying, and other problem areas that were revealed by the investigation. Lila was also expelled after Officer Garnier looked into her absences and found out that she had actually been truant for months and lying to her mother and the school the whole time. The board of education also reached out to the Dupain-Cheng family and apologized for what their daughter went through. They also offered to accept Marinette back if she ever wanted to return to Dupont. But Marinette was happy at her new school and never went back to Dupont. She continued to enjoy life at her new school, with her new friends, and never thought about the akuma class or Lila again.

#ml #ml fic #ml fanfic #ml salt #ml salt fic #ml salt fanfic #lila rossi #lila salt #bustier salt #damocles salt #class salt #ml class salt #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fic #miraculous fanfic #miraculous salt #miraculous salt fic #miraculous salt fanfic #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir

1K notes · View notes

donutloverxo · 3 years ago

Text

A Royal Scandal 2

Modern royalty au

(Image from Pinterest)

Cowritten with @lizzygal

I'm so sorry! I made a mistake while posting this yesterday so I'm reposting it now. Hope y'all enjoy💖

Note - Since y'all liked it so much we've decided to post this fic on both ao3 and my tumblr! There will be no taglists for this however💖 You can subscribe to the ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, Mentions of previous domestic abuse.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 8k

To be fair, Steven could understand why his mother was so upset after watching the entire footage from the royal steam rooms. He had a far better understanding after having seen the footage in question. The one that had led to his mother’s reaction that very morning.

Seated beside Carol on the ride back, he slipped in his wireless earbuds and pulled up the first video he found online on his phone.

A separate car had been sent for you for whenever your meeting completed. However, he had a whole series of his own back at the palace before his day could be considered over in the administrative offices. Days were never really over for him. Should anything happen somewhere in his nation, he would be informed. As was expected for a ruler.

Until then, he had fifteen or so minutes to kill till he arrived back at the royal palace, depending on city traffic.

Which was how he found himself watching what was obviously some sort of hidden camera. As the royal banya did not have CCTV cameras. Steve found himself making a mental note to himself to ask Carol about it.

After he watched the video.

He had the feeling that this would not be going away anytime soon. Therefore, he needed to know what was on there if he was going to have to defend his actions, or even speak about it.

It was somewhat surreal watching himself walk into view wearing nothing. Not even a towel. Talking with someone who was obviously you.

Based on where the camera was located, Steve could tell it was somewhere in the hallway that led from the steam rooms into either the showers or locker room. Thank all the saints above your back was to the camera. Half of it anyway. You were standing at a turn in the hallway, leaning against the wall. Half of you hidden. A towel wrapped around your body.

Thanking those saints above still that there was no sound, Steve watched on as a voice narrated the video, some celebrity blogger dissecting the footage as if it were a pivotal moment in some sporting event.

Steve watched himself turn to face you, facing the camera too and exposing his entire self to the world.

Not that he was ashamed. He had nothing to be ashamed about. Steve was built tall and powerful like his father and mother’s father. He kept himself in shape and as for the manhood that hung heavy between his thighs, he refused to be embarrassed by that either. The blogger however did have several opinions about what she referred to as, the royal sword.

She also seemed to be very opinionated when Steve watched himself kneel down in front of you. He’d never watched himself go down on you before and found himself transfixed, easily able to ignore the blogger’s excited rambling.

For once, Steve watched your hands sink into his hair as he sank between your legs. He watched your pleasure grow and grow, he watched you sag back into the wall and reach up, grabbing at it like a cat stretching out in the hot sun.

Seeing it happen like this? Steve felt like a voyeur. He felt like he was doing something wrong. And then, he watched you climax on his face. He watched your hands tighten up against the corner of the walls meeting. He watched himself stand and no longer noticed the commentary as he sheathed himself between your legs and proceeded to pound you into the wall without mercy.

His attention caught on one little inconsequential thing. Watching one of your legs that wound over his thigh bounce wildly each time.

Quickly he exited out of the video and blog. Unwilling to watch more. Pulling a bud from his ear, he glanced over at Carol who was watching the city fly by her window.

“Have you inquired as to if the palace guard has looked into how the video was taken in the royal banya?”

Blonde hair dusted her shoulders as she looked at her king. Carol answered without a second of hesitation. “Already done Your Majesty. The camera was found this morning. A webcam of some type. It’s been sent away for fingerprints and I have the best IT professional I know looking into it, to determine if we can track down who it belongs to. The royal guard has also launched an investigation into all palace employees.”

“Thank you,” he answered her with complete sincerity.

Captain Danvers had been at his side since he assumed the throne and had proven herself hundreds of times over. She was his confidant. She was his bodyguard. She was his closest thing to a friend, if Steve could say he had such a thing. He could tell Carol anything. He had told Carol about you. Carol had told him about her sick mother and in return, Steve have given her a cottage on palace grounds while providing a nurse. So that Carol would be able to spend as much time as possible with her mother in her final days. Carol still lived on the palace grounds in that cottage down by the gardens.

“I’ll let you know when I know something,” she assured him.

***

Your return to the palace felt like it took forever. Mostly because your panties were very obviously damp from leakage and you were greatly concerned about a wet stain. The modern equivalent of a scarlet letter. Letting everyone know what you’d done.

Twice you’d checked in a bathroom along with every mirrored surface you came across.

Alas, it seemed you were in luck.

No one would know that you’d had inappropriate contact on a workday, or think you’d had an accident. Granted if someone would have noticed you planned on blaming your monthlies.

By the grace of the many women who came before you, you managed to get back to the palace without being caught and were about to go change your panties when a familiar face popped into your office.

“Hey! You’re coming! I’m not taking no for an answer!”

Wanda.

Bright red hair and a brighter red dress that was far from office appropriate appeared in your office, leaping in like an acrobat leaping onto a stage. Making you look up from where you stood behind your desk, digging through your handbag.

A bunch of different thoughts buzzed through your head.

What was Wanda talking about? Where did she want you to go? Did Wanda wear that mini-dress to work? Cause it was about five inches too short and did downright sinful things to the girls. Wanda could always pull off anything. She looked amazing in clubwear, sweats and those tea-party dresses that Jackie O was always wearing.

“Coming?” Fell from your lips in a valiant attempt to stall till you could make sense of what was happening. “What are you not taking no for an answer for this time?”

In your roommate swept like a hurricane.

“It’s practically six!” She declared, as if that was supposed to mean something to you. It had you staring at her and waiting for more information. Hands paused in their hunt for clean panties and a pantyliner in your bag’o’stuff. “No more talk of this fake boyfriend. You and me are going to go have dinner. We’re going to hit the bars to pre-game and then to the clubs! Everyone is going so you are too!”

Such news had you freezing in your patent leather pumps.

Pre-gaming? Dinner? Clubs? Everyone?

How?

It was only Thursday and then you remembered.

It was a long weekend. The winning of some great victory over the Germans from the big war that you only kinda remembered hearing about. Mostly because you’d been busy with the border issue and the education overhaul. You’d known that it was coming up and the entire four-day weekend would be spent celebrating.

Wanda saw your face. She saw what you were thinking. She was practically a mind reader. Which led her to pointing at you scoldingly. “No! No no no! No checking emails or messages. No more work. No! We’re going out tonight and we are going to have fun! You remember what fun is? Right?”

But…you really did have emails and messages to check. You actually did have a ton of work to do. Granted you always had emails and messages to check, plus work piling up. It was the nature of your job. Helping in the running of a country was a 24/7 gig.

“Wanda…”

“Nope!” She declared, marching on into your office and behind your desk to chase you out. Shooing you. Literally making you hop away and grab your handbag because you just knew Wanda wasn’t letting you back near your desk. That much was for sure.

Like a sheepdog, she herded you around your messy desk as you attempted to protest, to get her to listen, to inform her that you really really did have a good bit of work to do.

“Wait…hold on…wait, Wanda…just one second…gah!”

“No more protests! I’m not going to hear it anymore! I refuse to let you hide behind work or the fake boyfriend.”

More protests came from you. You tried. You really really did. But Wanda was shoving and pushing and hip bumping you out into a hallway that did not look like an office building, instead, it was very obviously a palace.

Your heels clicked on polished white marble that shone. Walls were cream and had priceless art hung around, gold gilded borders ran up along where the ceiling met the walls. Light fixtures were old, bronze and cut glass. Furniture that belonged in Sotheby’s was sparsely decorated around the halls.

Door were old and creaky up and down the halls, wooden with locks that required big iron keys.

It was unlike any other place you’d ever worked.

You could feel and see and even smell the smokey history oozing from the walls.

A few people were hurrying out of their offices and locking the doors behind them, which Wanda didn’t even let you do as she went on indignantly. “No! Nope! Clint from Tinder will not wait forever! He digs foreigners and he has a job and he loves to dance!”

At mention of Tinder, your gut lurched.

Dear god not this again.

Why had you ever agreed to let Wanda make you a Tinder profile? At the time it seemed so reasonable. Let her make the profile and she’d get off your ass about your alleged imaginary boyfriend. Problem solved! How on earth were you to know she’d be on the damn app making matches for you?

“Why don’t you go out with Clint from Tinder,” you wanted to know, earning yourself a roll of Wanda’s eyes as you were dragged down along the hallway to the massive marble stairs. Looking as if they’d been carved from one piece, smoothly curling down a floor to the ground floor. Large chandeliers hung with cut glass that threw light everywhere. A massive painting hung up on the large wall of a long dead large royal family in the palace of past.

“He’s not my type. But he is absolutely your type.”

Somehow you doubted that.

Sighing deeply and focusing on not snapping your ankle on the stairs and in your heels, you followed Wanda down, mixing in with the few stragglers who were leaving work and making mental notes to text Steve and let him know you’d be late coming back to the palace that night. You were then planning when you could check your work emails and work-phone messages. That had to be done in a quiet place where no one could overhear. Maybe you could go out to the club and feign a tummy ache? Then sneak away from Clint? It’d probably be much easily to sneak away from Clint than Wanda.

Click. Click. Click.

With every step you maneuvered down your heels were noisy. You’d managed to fling your sizable bag over your shoulder and just knew Steve was going to be annoyed with you. But he was an adult. Being adults meant the two of you would have to do things that you didn’t want.

“So help me, if it kills the both of us, you and I will be going out tonight and having a fun time! This is a celebratory weekend! There are festivities going on all over the city!” Wanda went on, yanking you along behind her upon reaching the bottom step and heading in the general direction of the ground floor exits.

Hurrying along behind her, you followed but you weren’t happy about it.

God did you have so much work to do and you really really wanted to spend the night with Steve. And maybe if you gave in to Wanda, she’d get off your ass about your fake boyfriend? Wait, no, your secret boyfriend, because Steve was very real, you just didn’t want to be eviscerated all over the internet and tabloids for dating a king.

You’d seen what happened when a pretty actress had dated then married a prince who didn’t rule his country. The only thing you had going for you was Steve’s country was still looked at with some serious side-eye from the world, due to past events and rulers. Plus, he wasn’t a young prince that had grown up before the eyes of the world. He was a son of a tyrant, a citizen of a sizable nation the world still viewed suspiciously with a questionable human rights record.

“You’re going to love the club! It’s totally new and they open at ten. Meaning we can have plenty of time with the girls!”

Girls?

As in plural?

Because of course this would be a group event. Wanda never half-assed anything.

“Wanda…” you began.

Before Wanda could turn her attention on you, loud shrill lady screams came and you were greeted to the sight of Maria, Okoye and Pepper. All three threw up their arms and grabbed Wanda in a big hug, yanking her away from you and freeing you from her grip.

Loud girl screeches followed.

There was group hopping and hugs and laughter.

It should have made you realize that it’d been so long since you had a fun girls night. It should have reminded you that you were young and your life shouldn’t be all about work and sneaking off with your boyfriend whenever the two of you were able to.

Your heart should have been warmed by the sight of your palace coworkers who were clearly part of the aforementioned Girls.

How long had it been since you had fun?

How long had it been since you’d had a night out on the town?

What were you doing?

Were you jumping and screeching and hugging too?

No.

You were digging into your handbag so you could text Steve real quick. To let him know about your change in plans before he began to think you’d bailed because you were a coward and got cold feet.

Just as your fingers touched the smooth surface of your iPhone…

A noise caught your attention.

Movement.

Peering up to the side at the wall, or what you’d assumed was a hallway wall since you were in another hallway nearly identical to the one upstairs. All while the hugfest continued. You noticed that the wall was at a weird angle. As if it were opening up on a hinge and by the time you realized that the wall was actually an opening to a hidden passageway, a hand grabbed your elbow and yanked you in.

No more than a soft squeak came from you.

In you tumbled.

Into a dimly lit hallway that was actually a passageway you found yourself. With a metal sounding click the wall slid back into place and a big hand fell over your mouth. Making you immediately panic, immediately reach up to grab the hand that was silencing you. Making an arm band around your chest and pull you flush back against a broad muscular body.

“Did you honestly think for one moment that I would allow you to go get drunk with Wanda? Or go to a club with a man that she met for you on Tinder?”

Steve.

It was Steve.

His faint aftershave still burnt your nose but paired with the masculine scent that was him, you relaxed only a little bit, just a smidge.

How the hell did he know all of that? Had he bugged your office? Was he following you?

Deep in your chest your heart pounded wildly. Your skin was on fire. Even though it was dimly lit, you swore you could see each nail and groove in the wooden walls of the hidden passage.

Steve’s shoes were soft on the carpeted floor. Yours however never reached. Your legs dangled. Desperately you stretched out to try and reach your toes down, but alas, Steve was holding you up and was simply that much taller than you. Easily holding you up as he carried you.

His voice an angry snarl, a seething whisp against your ear. “That is so disappointing my love. A failure on both our parts,” came his angry voice. Walking with sure footing and a quick pace through the only barely lit halls.

Turning here and there, quickly and suddenly, until you were very much lost.

A protest came from behind his palm that was crushed against your mouth. Your blood heating with every passing second till it felt as if it were boiling. All that sudden fear was turning into anger at this treatment.

“I’ve clearly failed you if you’re unable to announce with nothing but the utmost certainty that you’re both in a relationship and have no desire to go out clubbing with whomever Clint from Tinder is.” The word clubbing was spat out, as if Steve found it vile on his tongue. “As for you? Yesterday we were discussing where to go for your birthday and today, you refused to answer one of my calls! You have work to do tonight to make up to me your behavior today!”

Further down the hidden passageway you were unceremoniously carried pulled to his front. Your brain racing at warp speed.

You had work to do? You had to make up for your behavior?

Had he lost his damn mind?

Had he not seen the video of his naked nether-regions all over the internet? Or the sex that made the footage a sex tape? The two of you were now amateur porn stars and he was mad that you? Because you were trying to be lowkey until the entire situation blew over? Steve was mad because you were being reasonable?

A most valiant attempt was made to free yourself.

You struggled. You kicked. You flailed and shrilled behind the hand over your mouth. No longer taken by surprise or frightened. Now you were growing angry.

On top of being terrified of being found out in that footage and ridiculed by the world, or worse, chased out of this country by a horde of angry people who didn’t agree with you being the kings choice as not only a foreigner, but one from pretty humble roots. You were upset that the world saw such an intimate moment between the two of you and even if Steve didn’t care that his junk was all over the internet, you cared. You cared a great deal. The royal junk was your junk. It was bad enough you had to know he’d dated women before you who’d seen him nude and were intimate with him, but now the world? It was simply too much for you to comprehend.

Steve slowed and turned, using his elbow he made something pop and a slight crack of light where there was obviously another hidden door in the wall appeared.

Using his broad shoulder, Steve pushed the door open and stepped out into a hallway that led down to the royal chambers and split off.

With his knee, he shoved the hidden panel shut and tightening his grip on you, Steve hurried down that hallway.

A completely different one from where the administrative offices were located.

Rich wooden paneling covered the walls. Making everything appear warmer, lusher. An amber haze hung in the air.

Thick carpet was underfoot. Furniture spoke to its age but had been made with a quality that endured. Like this palace. Built when his land was called something else but had stood through time in proof of his claim to the throne.

Generations before him had ruled, claimed spouses and lovers in these halls, grown old and made history and now it was his turn.

Merely that knowledge had him growing excited in his slacks for a second time that day. All of your thrashing and struggling didn’t help. If anything, it sparked a part of his brain that insisted he ravish and conquer you in his royal bed.

Mouth pressed to your ear, till he felt amber and diamonds press against his lips. “I swear, I will spend the rest of tonight inside of you until things are as they were yesterday. Until you remember that when I speak to you in any manner, you answer. Considering how thoroughly you’ve consumed every last part of me, it is only fair.”

And then, in his slowed pace down the hall ever closer to the door that would lead into Steve’s Royal Apartment, he saw a portrait up on the wall that made him pause.

It was him.

Or his portrait from when he’d turned thirty.

There he stood looking down at you both. Dressed ceremonially in his crown, holding the traditional ruling scepter and wearing the robes from kings of past. Fur, jeweled toned fabric that he’d easily filled out with gold adornments, amber buttons and pipping on his shoulders.

What was most striking about this portrait compared to all the others of Steven throughout the palace, was he was alone in it and unlike all the others, at the time, he’d not been single.

Further making that internal fire burn hotter.

Making him stop and force you to look up at it with him. Framed in a gilded bronze heirloom. Up where he had to look at it to be reminded of what could have been.

“Look! Look!”

You stopped struggling and looked, were well aware of his mouth against your hair.

“See? See it? You could have been there with me. At my side. Wearing my crown. Wearing the robes and jewels of my grandmothers. My queen.”

And indeed you saw.

When you’d seen the finished portrait, you had been blown away at how your body reacted to the sight of your lover in his traditional uniform he only pulled out for big special events. How powerful he looked. How sexy he was wearing a crown, holding a golden scepter with an eagle on the end clutching a piece of amber the size of an egg.

The arm around your chest fell so he could point at the empty space in the picture beside him. “Look. Right there. That is where you would have been. Right there. At my side.”

His hand over your mouth still held you flush against him. Pulled tight against him.

That thought, that entire notion of you painted on a portrait, up there with Steve at his side. It was so surreal to you.

When it was just you and Steve it was fire and gold and everything was amazing. When it was King Steve and his Chief of Staff it was stimulating and exciting. You still weren’t sure about being queen. A queen! That wasn’t like being a princess or a duchess. A queen was different. Even the word felt different.

It made your heart start to pound wildly in your chest again. It made you breathe hard against the back of his hand. It made you have a physiological reaction.

***

This was not how Carol intended to spend her night.

It was not how she wished to start her off-time. Having given Val the update on all things that had transpired for the day as she handed off command of the Royal Guard to her fellow captain.

No sooner had she told Val everything, did one of the messengers from communications come hurrying in. A slip of paper in her hand. A note that changed everything for that night, that week and even that month.

It had left Carol walking through the royal apartments towards the Queen Mother’s rooms.

As she knew exactly what King Steven was doing and quite frankly, she wanted no part in disturbing that unless she absolutely had to.

Besides. The message that had been sent to the palace via royal envoy was meant for Her Majesty. It was best Her Majesty the Queen Mother figured out how best to deal with this coming…situation.

Compared to His Majesty’s Private Rooms, Sarah’s were all light and brightness. White marble and ornate touches. Colorful priceless paintings and large bouquets of fresh flowers in crystal vases. Soft plush furniture held little personal touches. A white chenille throw draped over her couch by a fireplace. Pink slippers sat on the floor. Books both new and ancient with various markers holding her place were scattered about. Fresh flowers. She loved fresh flowers. They were everywhere.

As expected, the door to the Queen Mother’s apartments were open.

Carol still paused outside of it to knock gently.

“Your Majesty?” She called out, looking at her watch to see that it was nearing seven. Around seven was when the queen took her dinner meal privately. Of course she’d leave the door open for kitchen staff to bring up food as usual. It wasn’t one of the nights that was reserved for Steve and his mother to have their dinners together.

After the death of her husband the former king, Sarah had effectively thrown open all the doors that he had imprisoned her with.

Her soft voice drifted out.

Delicate and gentle.

The Queen Mother sat in a large chair by a big window overlooking the city. Her pale hair pulled back at the nape of her neck. A string of pearls tightened and loosened around her fingers as she lowered the book she’d been reading. A pleasant smile came over her soft features.

Upon seeing the stone of Carol’s face, the queen frowned. “What is it? What is wrong?”

Only confirming that something was wrong, Carol shut the door and locked it.

Dinner had been brought up. Smells emanated from the queens private dining room off to the left. It reminded Carol that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning. It had been that kind of a day.

Clasping her hands before her, she rocked back on her heels. “A message was sent by Her Highness Janet Van Dyne. She and her daughter will be at the palace tomorrow…”

Janet and Hope Van Dyne?

Steven’s former fiancée and her mother?

Two golden eyebrows rose, making Carol press on. “Her Highness is under the impression that they’ll be staying here? In the palace?”

All of this was new to Sarah.

She had not heard from Janet since Steve’s coronation. When she and her husband had been in attendance. Earlier that particular year, Hope had broken her engagement with Steven to run away with a Maharaja.

It’d been all over the tabloids.

A young princess of the Netherlands had broken her engagement to the crown prince of an incredibly traditional nation to follow her heart. Hope had spent many years splashed across tabloids and blogs with a handsome charismatic Asian Prince. She’d lost her royal title and gave tell-all interviews about how her family had forbade her from running away and how she’d never marry a man from infamous Rogers Royal Line. And then, oddly, she was back home with her family this year.

Sarah had found it unusual. Alas, she was a busy woman with a life of her own to keep her busy.

“Was anything else in the message,” Sarah wanted to know.

Carol shook her head.

It had been a simple message that was very to the point.

Sighing in a most un-Sarah-like sort of way. She set her book down on the arm of her chair and rose. Tall. Willowy. Pursing her lips. Her dress fell around her in a gauzy cloud.

“Do you want me to tell His Majesty?”

Pausing, the older women considered the question. Dare she tell her son? He deserved to know. Nothing good would come from this visit.

If it were Janet alone? Sarah would not be so suspicious. But Janet and Hope? And that they would come so last minute? After the release of this video footage from the royal sauna?

“Is my son with her?”

Silence.

Carol was quiet.

A noise came from the Queen Mother. A clicking of her tongue. Stepping into her slippers, she pulled the hem of her dress up. “I suppose I should not be surprised that you would keep this from me.”

More quiet came.

“I won’t ask. I’ll find out my own way and leave him be for now. Janet and Hope won’t be here tonight. This can be a problem for tomorrow, today has been difficult enough for us all. Let tomorrow be tomorrow.”

Let tomorrow be tomorrow.

On her other hand was her wedding band. A treasure itself. Now on the widow’s finger. It was so symbolic of the cage she’d lived in for the duration of her marriage.

Absentmindedly, she twisted the rings. “Have you eaten yet?” Pulling them up and down her hand. “I had hoped you would come. I had the kitchen bring up extra.” Off slipped the rings that she had to wear in public. In her hand they jingled until she set them down on a smoothly polished table.

With two heavy clicks, they bounced on the wood by a vase full of peonies. Freeing her for the time being.

“I missed you while you were away.”

A blush bloomed over her porcelain complexion at Carol’s words.

As she watched Carol lock the door to her chambers, a warmth bloomed within her chest. Such words were so simple. So honest. They were words she had not heard before in her life. In this new chapter however, in this new time in her life, she had become accustomed to kind words and compassion.

“I missed you as well.” She confessed, stepping closer and still keeping space between them. As some habits died hard. “Stay with me? Tonight?”

“There is nothing I want more, Sarah.”

***

As it turned out, now you were ready to talk.

However.

Unfortunately.

Steve was now past that point and was on a whole other page.

You found yourself protesting when he carried you into his bedroom like some manner of caveman would carry a slab of meat. Shrilling out when he yanked and ripped and tore at your dress, forcing it over your head after ripping fabric and popping buttons, till it was an unsalvageable heap of material and threads.

Which was an absolute tragedy.

You loved that dress.

You even pointed out that fact to him somewhere between the threshold of his bedroom and his massive bed that really was fit for a king.

It was so big!

A headboard wider than Wanda’s itty-bitty car was long. An elaborate collection of regal flourishes and shapes. Dark sheets so soft they were slippery awaited you as you screeched and hollered, letting out an outraged sound when your bra was popped then yanked roughly from you.

“Steven!” You admonished your king, toes digging deep into the thick carpet as you’d lost your shoes back in the hallway leading to his quarters.

This whole evening was going off the rails for you. There was no other way to put it.

Dim sconces on the wall lit the way. Highly effective mood lighting if you ever saw it. Allowing you to see the set in Steve’s face, the firm line of his mouth.

His fingers wrapped around the back of your neck so he could hold you close, ground out for your benefit. “All day long I tried. Calls. Messages. Texts. Did you want to talk? No. You ignored me. Now I do not wish to talk either.”

Pushing you forward, you found yourself stumbling but knew if you didn’t walk on your own, Steve would merely toss you up on his bed. Up on the sea of pillows. Framed by gilded silver and dark curtains that came down from above to allow for privacy.

“All day long you denied me. I’ll remind you what is mine until you’re thinking clearly again. Until we’re back where we were yesterday!”

“I’m ready to talk now! I’m in a place where I can discuss this with you! I am thinking clearly!”

Words were not needed.

Oh no.

Not when the king grabbed your hand, pulled your arm back and pressed your palm against his straining erection. Hot to the touch. Shockingly hard. Painfully so even you were willing to bet.

Your knees hit the bed and you were pushed forward till you fell over, till you wound up on the expanse of bedding in a tangle of hands and knees and that silky smooth material.

A big explosion came from Steve. Feeling like and you were flailing on your stomach, trapped beneath his oppressive weight and the bed. Fighting. Wiggling. Trying to get free from beneath him but bigger stronger arms had your wrists.

Something was being wrapped around your wrists that you couldn’t see, as your vision was impeded by the broad chest in your face. Right there. Blocking your line of sight. Pinning you down to the sea of grey until finally, finally, he was up and you were once more struggling, wiggling, jerking and finding that you were tied to the headboard.

You were tied to the headboard. You were naked and bound to his bed.

Silky fabric that was Steve’s tie bound your wrists snugly together and wove into the headboard, securing you there most soundly.

It was outrageous! It was absurd!

You were tied to his headboard!

It was a first for you.

When your gaze returned to your boyfriend and even that was now a bit questionable, you were greeted to the sight of Steve shedding his suit. Yanking off each garment without pause or care. A few tears were heard and he was far rougher than need be. A button or two may have flown off.

“You cannot be serious! That’s your plan? You’re going to take what’s yours? Are you serious? This is not the dark ages!”

Ignoring you, Steve shoved his slacks down his long legs. Allowing his rigid cock to bob obscenely. Causing an eyeroll to immediately come from you. A hint of something dark on his hip caught your eye. But it was only a flash and as he was moving, yanking off his suit jacket and fiercely ripping open buttons on his shirt, you couldn’t get a good look.

Was it a bruise? A tattoo?

Somehow you doubted kings were even allowed to have tattoos. Or that Steve even had the time to get himself permanently inked. When the hell did he get that bruise?

Momentarily distracted by him climbing up on the bed, you looked up to give your bindings a good hard yank.

No luck.

Steve’s weight was pushing you down. Shoving you into the bed. Pinning you down as you protested, implored and began to plea. Which was exactly what he wanted. After everything you had put him through today? You would beg. You would plead. You would forget all about that video.

“Open your mouth.”

It was an order.

It could be nothing less.

An absolute command that had your lips slowly parting as your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden treatment, this roughness. Steve held his painful erection in hand and pushed his tip to your lips. Pushed the red end of his cock sticky with precum past your lips. Till you were forced to open your mouth wider and wider for him. To take him deeper and deeper into your mouth.

Steve held your gaze and pushed his member in further. Straddling your chest and gripping his headboard in one hand, till it dug into his fingers. While his other hand grabbed your face to hold it tight.

You’d never be able to take all of him. He knew this. You’d never been able to no matter how much you’d tried. But he wanted to see how much he could fit in your mouth tonight.

“Don’t swallow. Don’t let me down again.”

Your mouth was so warm closing around him. Wet. Sacred. It made him want to close his eyes to sink in deep but Steve would not. He would do that soon enough. He would lose himself in your cunt soon enough.

A few small movements from his hips sank his cock deeper into your mouth. Filling your cheeks as you struggled. Until you found a motion of moving up and down his length, running your tongue along his sides. Wetting up his shaft till sloppy noises started to fill his ears and a small little dribble began to moisten the corners of your mouth.

Those blue eyes remained set on your own. Never once showing you mercy.

“Tomorrow. In the future. If I call or text, you will answer.”

There was no follow-up. Nor was it a question.

Long fingers that belonged on an artist or musician sank into your hair tightly.

All you could do was nod as drool rolled down your chin and you suckled his cock like you would a popsicle, without swallowing, sucking on his sensitive flesh as he liked and without the aid of your own hands to steady his member.

It was glorious and Steve could only slightly appreciate it. As the words that fell from his mouth were more important, more vital.

Feeling how wet your mouth was getting was fantastic. Absolutely. Your nimble tongue was a gift. No one had ever sucked his cock like you.

However…he was still frustrated, still angry, still hurt even.

He’d not worked his way through those feelings as of yet.

Perhaps? In your body?

Those feelings teased and taunted him with his unworthiness. Of how you hadn’t been firmer with your roommate. How you had allowed her to drag you down the stairs for a night out with possibly another man? It infuriated him. It sent his hips rocking into your mouth. It had his cock rubbing up along the back of your throat and made your eyes water.

No.

Steve would not lose you. He loved you too much to even entertain such a notion. No. Infact, he would make sure that he ruined you. By the end of the night, he would make certain that you’d never even amused the notion of being set up. He would be completely sure that when you left his chambers come morning, you would never be doubted when you told Wanda or anyone that you had a partner.

“I want to start publicly courting you. I want to be engaged this year. I do not want to hide any longer. When people look at you, I want them to know that you belong to me.”

Noises came around his cock that Steve knew were words and he did not care.

“Look at yourself.” Steve stilled, his words harsh, bitter even. “You have my cock in your mouth and I am completely at your mercy. Tied to the bed of kings because I cannot go one night without dreaming of you, fantasizing about your tight cunt and smooth skin. I would give you the world and all you want is nothing. You are the worst type of infuriating.”

As if to prove his point, he steadily pumped his pelvis up into your mouth. Each slide in pushed saliva and pre-ejaculate out, making it ooze from the seal of your lips around his erection. Against your throat his wet balls bounced. His ass rested on your chest and he could not get enough. More. He wanted more. He needed more. Craved more.

The urge to go harder was strong.

Steve wanted so badly to fuck you. To make you feel how much you drove him mad. How you caused him physical pain from longing alone.

With drool smeared down your chin and neck, never looking more beautiful in his opinion, Steve pulled his dick out. Done with your mouth for now. Needing more. Needing to grab your tits and to be closer to your face, looking closer into your eyes.

In a familiar sort of way, your throat bobbed.

“Did you just swallow when I specifically told you not to?”

A moment of hesitation followed from you that had Steve gripping your face, easing his body down yours but holding your slippery chin tight in his grip. Your eyes were wide. Again, probably without even realizing, you swallowed in nervousness.

“I’m…I’m sorry…”

“I’m sorry what,” he demanded, leaning down closer, licking the wetness from your chin and earning from you a most satisfying shiver that wracked your body.

“S-s-sorry, Your Majesty.”

His tongue was hot and wet on your chin. His body was heavy and hot on your own. Skin on skin contact made your brain short circuit. It was a miracle you could string those syllables together. With your hands bound so snugly to the bed. All you could do was take it. Take what he gave you.

Feeling him push your thighs open and position himself between your hips made you gasp. Words failed you.

And then words didn’t even matter because he was pushing into you. Claiming you. Taking what was his because you did belong to him. You belonged to him in every possible way.

A scream exploded out of you when he dove right in. Sank in till his crown was pressed up against the wall of your cervix. Deeper than anyone had ever been before. Hands were grabbing your ankles and spreading you wide. Spearing you on his cock. Stretching your body taut.

“So wet. You were made to take me. Made to take your king.” He whispered more to himself even though you heard. You would have heard a pin drop. You could hear your heart pound and blood rush through your ears, each gasp your lungs took. You could feel every last inch of him deep inside your core. Painfully stretching you open like this. Burning. Tingling. Twisting.

Hands tightened on your ankles till you looked up at Steve. Hovering over you like a pillaging warlord about to ravish his prize.

“You have till Monday to decide how you wish us to become public. I will not wait a day longer.”

Seeing you like this before him. Splayed out. Your pussy curled around his member, plump from being filled with your breasts round puddles up on your chest. It set his hips into a frenzy. Powerful thrusts were sent into your tight walls that made Steve grunt every time from the power behind his motions, from the sight of his cock vanishing up into you. Watching your pussy take him so hungrily as you cried out beneath him each time. Breasts swaying. Skin slapping on skin with the contact. Your hips jiggled, his headboard creaked, his balls slapped soundly against you both.

“Say it. Say the words to me. Say them!” Steve commanded you. Pieces of his hair falling and sticking to his sweaty forehead as he sank in to the very depths of you then pulled out, revealing a glistening shaft before slamming his member right back in where it belonged.

“Yes…yes…yes…yes…” you chanted, over and over, again and again with every thrust in, every withdraw that was like heaven and hell, your body needing him to complete this circuit only the two of you could create. “…yes…yes…my king…yes my king…”

Those words. They were a song to his ears and had your ankles slapped together. Those words had the backs of your thighs slapped wetly against his chest, your feet touching his shoulder as Steve continued to pound into you.

Pumping into your now closed thighs, into your tighter walls at this angle.

“Look!”

Dimly your eyes fluttered, you looked into his burning blue eyes.

“Look. Here.”

You followed his gaze to where he pointed, looking down at his pelvis, where his hip met his abdomen in that hard cut of muscle that was visible above his beltline. The one you loved to lick.

He did have a tattoo.

It took you a second to realize what you were looking at and focus, as his thrusts continued without mercy, pounding away, slamming into you without mercy. Shaking and pushing you into his bed.

Your writing was inked into his skin. Your very own signature.

Your name was forever scrawled into Steve’s skin and then, it hit you. Your climax took you by complete surprise. Your entire body went stiff. A pained noise came from you and you shattered all around his cock. Fingernails dug into your palm and you stared at your name in cruel ecstasy.

Steve fell too. You could tell from his thrusts getting wild, falling out of sync. You could tell because he swore out, clenched his face and held your thighs tight to his chest.

Pumping deeply into you while your body milked him for everything he had to give.

Making him merely a man in that moment with you.

Up on his headboard, you were tightly secured and would soon have bruises from arching up against the silk tie restraining you. Unable to do anything but feel and accept what your king was giving you. On your back. In a bed that past kings had slept in.

None of which was lost on you.

Not as your body felt leaden, filled with molten hot lava. Limp. Your secret garden continued to suck him in, clench around him and spasm, making your eyes roll up in your head, your body dig into his bed and words fall from your mouth.

In a most dignified sort of manner, your king humped into your body like a jack rabbit, chasing the last vestiges of his climax with coral wet lips and dark honey hair now damp with sweat.

A sight for your satiated eyes.

“Let me call my mother in the morning.” You breathed out slowly, as if figuring out how your lungs worked once more after a marathon. Your words making Steve still above you. Though your cunt did not. It twitched around his royal girth and you met his gaze from on his pillows. “Tomorrow you can have Maria release a statement saying whatever you want. Just let me tell my parents myself. They should hear from me that I’m not coming home.”

Whatever wind that may have held up his sails had clearly been withdrawn.

Almost tenderly now, Steve leaned forward to quickly loosen the silk around your wrists and free your hands from his headboard. Stretching out his long powerful body above you. Flushed red now. Glistening. Though he left his tie there. He remained inside of you too. Filling you and stretching you full.

Gently, he pushed your legs down until they wrapped around him and he was able to rest his weight most carefully on top of you. Pressing wet kisses to your nose, your cheeks and chin. Worshipping your face with delicate touches and caresses.

“I’ll fly them out here whenever you want. When we get back from Switzerland, I’ll have them waiting for you.”

Softly you answered, reveling in his softness now that your body had been given her reward, her treat, her pleasure from his roughness. Smelling the musk of his sweat and feeling the wet glide between your bodies.

Leisurely, your hands found their way up his muscular arms to his shoulders. “You know what I mean. I won’t ever be their daughter again. I won’t ever be Wanda’s roommate. I’ll have to quit my job. Nothing will ever be the same.”

Those words, well, they settled uncomfortably in him.

All of them were true.

You would be giving up so much. He would have to make sure to take care of you even more so, keep a closer eye on you. He would need to have a talk with his mother come morning.

“That’s true,” Steve softly conceded, rubbing his nose along your own. Barely grazing his lips over yours. A hint of a tongue touched you before his breath danced over your mouth. “We would be together though. Finally together. You. Me. Not hiding anymore.”

Speaking of hiding.

That word alone had you pulling away from his mouth to lean to the side, to get a look down at his Adonis belt. At the alluring groove that led down to his pubes where your name was now in black.

Nay, your signature.

As if sensing what you were after, your boyfriend tilted up a smidge. Enough for you to see but not enough for him to leave your body. Pray tell that couldn’t happen.

“When did you do this?”

“Do you like it,” Steve asked, as if your opinion mattered. Which was laughable considering how permanent it was.

He’d literally took your signature and had it tattooed on his body.

“Of course I love it. Now you have a part of me on you all the time.” An incredibly modern take on Steve’s royal jewel gift thing, but in reverse you thought. Then grinned as it sank in. “I can’t believe you did it though.”

Why wouldn’t he have done it?

Steve hadn’t thought twice when Maria had gone on about getting her late mother’s writing tattooed on her side, in a lasting forever tribute. Having your writing on him at all times had been an idea that hadn’t left him. Not until he’d had a tattoo artist praised for their work brought to the palace late the other night.

He wasn’t even going to lie, king or not, there was something downright satisfying about having something like this hidden on his body from all. Known only by you and him. A secret only for you two.

Bringing him right back to the thought that the biggest secret the two of you shared would soon be out.

Soon it would be public knowledge and that had Steve brushing his fingertips over your cheeks, kissing the swell of your cheekbone and moving ever just so to make a small moan come from you. “You’ll never regret this. I’ll love you for the rest of my life. I’ll devote myself to making you happy. You’ll never regret becoming my queen.”

#steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #king!steve x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #king!steve rogers

443 notes · View notes