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malarkgirlypop · 4 months ago

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MEDIC! Part 38 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

Hey guys big tigger warning on this chapter! Please be very aware, I do not want anyone to feel triggered or uncomfortable by my writing. I write a lot of things from my own experience, and it does sound weird to say but writing this chapter helped me express a lot of feelings I didn't know I had. If you do not want to read this chapter I totally understand, I have tried to make the graphic scene less so. I hope anyone who has ever experienced SA or worse has been able to heal. Love you all truly, if you want to talk about anything my messages are always open, I am so happy to chat!!

TW- R*pe, SA, Violence, talks of assault, (please let me know if I missed any).

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, not hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @imusicaddict, @b00ks1ut , @mstiemountainhop, @awaterfalls, @lovememadly92 @lucyfromtheoldhouse @blueberry-ovaries anyone else please let me know.

The man had dragged me into the jeep, the cold barrel of the gun pressed into my side. The replacements didn’t get to me in time, I watched them stand over Grant’s body as the soldier pulled away from the scene. Tears streamed down my face as I tried to muffle my sobs, the man kept the gun pressed into my side.

I glanced over to him, the purple smudges under his eyes from when Don had struck him in the face. He drove erratically swerving from side to side on the road. I gripped the side of the car, nervous that I was going to fly out the side. I thought about hurling myself from the vehicle, but the thought of being crushed under the wheels and then losing the ability to get away made bile rise in my throat.

“What do you want?” I yelled over the whip of the wind.

The man looked towards me, the glare in his eyes made my chest clench, he looked as if he wanted to kill me. He raised his gun, I bit my lip regretting my words, squeezing my eyelids shut, I didn’t want him to be the last face I saw. The butt of the gun smashed down into my cheek, I yelped out in pain reaching up to cradle my now throbbing face. I flinched away from the man trying to crawl into the farthest reaches of the car. But it was no use, I was trapped.

With every passing second we were getting further away from the base, if we kept going any longer I wouldn’t be able to find my way back.

“I killed him.” The man uttered, I cautiously set my eyes back on the driver. “Your fucking boyfriend, I killed him. He got what he deserved y’know, no one fucking hits me and gets away with it.”

My eyes widened, he thought Grant was Don. I didn’t point out the fact that he had actually gotten the wrong man. I didn’t need to give him incentive to go back to base and hurt anymore people.

I sat as still as humanly possible, hoping that my silence would make me invisible. My hyperventilating made me feel faint. I dragged in deep breaths trying to stop the shake in my hands, but it was no use. The adrenaline that surged through my veins had me set on edge like a live wire.

The jeep slowed, my eyes frantically searched the surrounding area. I didn’t know where I was anymore. My brain had blacked out the drive we had taken, time had lost all meaning. I didn’t know how long I had been in the car, or if we had turned along the way.

But there didn’t seem to be anything of note for him to be stopping. So why were we?

Unfortunately my question had been answered all too quickly. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the man surging towards me, my arms came up to protect my face, but his hungry hands latched onto me.

“No, please.” I uttered terrified. But it was no use the man tugged me down, until I was laying flat against the car seat.

He hovered above me a sickening slimy grin shone in the dark. He eyed me like a wolf eyed its prey, I was a piece of meat and he hadn’t eaten in weeks.

“You’re so pretty.” He muttered into my ear. By this point I was gasping for air, nothing was making its way into my lungs. My eyes burned, the places his filthy hands touched felt like acid on my skin.

I swallowed, his gun was on the dash. I could reach out and grab it. But what if I wasn’t quick enough, or he won it off me before I could even shoot. I didn’t know where I was, if he shot me and left me out here I was surely going to die. But I didn’t want to be unconscious, not around him, I wanted to know my fate, even if it was dreadful. I couldn’t have the unknown, I didn’t want to wonder what he had done to my dead body.

His hand clamped around my chin forcing me to look him in the eye. I felt vomit rising in my mouth. His greasy hair hung down limp and lifeless as his bloodshot eyes roamed my body. I squirmed under him as he straddled my waist.

There was no way of getting out of this. If I wanted to live I would have to endure what was going to come.

His fingers dug into the open wound on my cheek, a cry of pain crawled from my throat.

“I said, you look so pretty.” The drunk man’s lips brushed my skin with every word.

Tears streamed down the sides of my face and into my ears muffling my surroundings. I choked back sobs. My body was pinned under his, my arms by my sides. I was stuck, his body weight didn’t even give me wiggle room.

He flashed me a wicked smile as he pulled back, his eyes were pitch black, the sound of his lips curling up around his teeth had me shaking.

“Thank you.” I uttered, my voice breaking.

I love you Don, please forgive me.

“Relax Emily. We’re just going to have some fun.” The man’s voice was hoarse and croaky, his breath smelt of stale liquor.

My name in his mouth made me want to scream, but we were so far away from anyone no one would hear my pleas for help.

His hands found the tops of my thighs dragging me down further so I lay more flat in the passenger seat. My heart hammered into my chest, so hard that it physically hurt.

The sound of his zip sliding down the track filled the silence of the night. It wasn’t long till his hands found mine, I felt his fingers brush down my crotch. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to wake up from this nightmare. I had fallen asleep on Don’s chest, I would wake up back in the room, the sound of the men’s voices would fill my senses along with the warm fire.

But reality hit me like a tonne of bricks as the man yanked my pants down exposing me to the cold night.

I know what I must do.

The man’s hot breath fanned across my face, making my eyes water more than they already were.

He pulled down my pants, to just above my knees. I forced myself to relax, I knew it would be more painful if I resisted.

I heard him grunt, the sound of my clothes ripping deafened my surroundings. I looked up to the night sky, just past his head. Thousands of tiny flickering lights filled the black void. This wasn’t my body anymore, the stars were my home. I felt myself floating up towards the sky, high above the scatter of thin clouds and into the atmosphere.

He forced himself into me, dragging me back down to earth. I plummeted back into my body, jolting in pain and gasping for air that never gave me the satisfaction of filling my lungs.

I focussed back on the sky, trying to not hear his moans and grunts.

The dark void of the night pulled me up again. So high I could see all of Austria. The lake shone in the pale moonlight, the thick forest was like a black hole pulling all of the light into its vacuum. The mountains stood like tall giants against the night, looking like they were watching over the small town, its yellow flickering lights glowed warm.

My body was a tiny spec down below, in a vacant street hidden in the trees. That body wasn’t mine, that wasn’t me down there being violated, I was up here in the heavens so far away from earth it was nothing but a crumb.

But I could still hear her, even from so far away. I could hear her stifling sobs and her ragged breath that misted in the cold night air. I could see the shimmer of tears sliding down her cheeks and into her hair that haloed around her head. I could see her blood stained hands curled into fists as she lay perfectly still.

The man hovered above her, the muscles of his back tensing, then shaking with release. I could see him pull back, leaving the young girl bare and lifeless as she stared up at me. Her cold eyes held no life, they glazed over not present with reality.

Suddenly I crashed back down to earth, back into the body that wasn’t mine. I gasped for air, the sensation of my skin prickled and tingeld, I wanted it off, I wanted out again. To not be here staring up at the bright moon that tauntingly hung in the night sky.

But my suffering wasn’t over, the man’s hands latched around my neck. I wasn’t even present enough to jump at his touch, my eyes bulged as he squeezed, cutting off my oxygen supply. I could feel the blood vessels bursting in my sclera, my temples throbbed from the pressure. I clawed at his hands as my vision started to blur. No, no, no! I needed to be conscious. I bucked against him trying to throw his weight, but the crushing sensation of my windpipe never ceased. His grip was strong.

So I gave up, my body grew slack and heavy. I let my eyes flutter shut and my head loll back.

I fought the urge to gulp in air as his hands released from my throat. I didn’t dare breathe until I knew I was safe.

The man’s weight fell from my body, my eyes clamped shut. I used my other senses to try and figure out what he was doing. I dragged in short shallow breaths as I heard his side door open and the jostle of the jeep as he got out of the car. Gravel crunched under his feet, I could hear him walk away and then closer again.

I stalled my breathing when the door behind me opened. I let my body tumble out of the car as he cursed wildly under his breath. His hands grasped under my armpits as he dragged me off the road. I could feel the texture of the ground change from small sharp rocks to soft grass.

He grunted as he tossed me, my body rolling down into the ditch on the side of the road. I kept my body as floppy as possible so that he wouldn't suspect I was still alive.

I lay face up, my arms thrown to the sides of my body as my legs had tangled with each other. I heard him walk back to the car but not get in. I begged silently for him to leave, but his footsteps arrived back to the edge of the bank again.

Time stood still as I heard the mechanical cock of the gun.

Five shots rang out in the silence.

I was surprised I was able to choke back the scream of pain, I clamped my lips shut and prayed. Prayed that he hadn’t seen the jerk of my body as one of the bullets drove into my shoulder.

I played dead, lying as still as possible, not knowing if he had left or not due to the ringing in my ears. I counted to 100 ten times before I cracked open my eyes. The jeep wasn’t on the side of the road anymore.

Whimpering in pain I dragged myself up the bank, staying low to the floor. Tire marks imprinted on the gravel road he had left. I finally let myself break down, sobbing hysterically until my voice grew hoarse and the pounding behind my eyes became unbearable.

Clutching my shoulder I rose to my feet, I fixed my pants and shirt. I gave a humourless laugh, unsure at why I was trying to make myself look presentable after all I had been through.

Hobbling down the road where we had come, I hoped I wouldn’t bleed out before I found someone.

Malarkey POV:

After losing miserably at poker, I had made my way back to the barracks. I didn’t check on Em, knowing she would be tucked up in bed fast asleep by now.

I had just drifted off to sleep when a pounding on my door caused me to sit bolt right up in bed. I lazily wandered to the door cursing under my breath at whoever it was making such a racket in the middle of the night.

Swinging open the door I found Bull, and the rest of Easy company half awake and half dressed flowing through the corridor with urgency.

“What’s going on?” I asked, peering out from my door.

“When need to go, grab your things.” Bull ushered me out of the room before I could ask anymore questions. “Replacement shot Grant in the head, Speirs has given orders to track him down.”

I looked at Bull horror on my face, he gave a grim nod confirming my question. This was real and not a sick joke.

Tab led the men down the hall giving orders to the men.

“Hey Lieb, he wants a noncom guarding each roadblock and at least two men watching every road out of town.” Tab strode down the hall.

Bull and I fell into stride behind him.

“Bull, Malark, you each take a squad and one of these witnesses on a house-to-house search.” Tab explained as we followed.

“Can we shoot this bastard on sight?” I asked. I was ready to beat the shit out of this no good son of a bitch. How dare he shoot Grant in the head. I was ready for a fight.

“Try and take him alive.” Tab said.

“Where’s Grant now?” Bull asked from behind me.

“They took him to a Kraut hospital to see if they could drum up any good doctors.” Tab replied to Bull.

We each took off to do our respective tasks. I wanted to be the one who found that fucker.

Maybe say my hand slipped and accidentally shot him in the leg.

But with all the men we had out searching my group didn’t find him first, just my luck.

They dragged him back to base, gathering in the main lounge. The same lounge we were all in hours before playing poker and laughing. Now the room made my head spin. By the time my men and I arrived the replacement was barely recognisable.

Tied to a chair in the middle of the room surrounded by angry men, the soldier took a beating. I watched the man’s head snap back as blood poured from his mouth. Easy men were pissed to say the least, they took charge of the beatings. Their fists collided with the man’s face, each with gruesome crunches, as they beat the ever loving shit out of the fucker.

I stood and watched, there was no need for me to step in, so I watched from the back of the ground with a sick satisfaction as each punch landed.

The man’s head hung low, too weak to hold it up on his own accord. He spat on the ground, clearing his mouth of the blood. The man only groaned in pain, he didn’t utter a word otherwise.

The men cheered with each hit.

The doors swung open, a stoic Captain Speirs stood in the doorway. Taking in the scene before him. I could see under his calm facade the man was raging like the rest of us. The room fell silent as his footfalls hit the soft rug.

“This him?” He asked, strolling in.

“That’s him.” Bull confirmed. The soldiers surrounding the man stepped back, letting Speirs have room to stand in front of him.

The man coughed and gagged on his own blood. The room collectively held their breath, unsure of what Speirs was going to do.

“Replacement. ‘I’ company.” Bull informed the Captain.

“Where’s the weapon?” Speirs asked calmly.

“What weapon?” The man replied in a snide tone. I scoffed, how could this person have so little respect.

Speirs didn’t hesitate, bringing down the butt of his gun and smashing it into the jaw of the man. The replacement's head whipped to the side as blood sprayed from his mouth.

“When you talk to an officer you say ‘sir’.” Speirs growled in a menacing tone.

The man chuckled, hanging his head. “Maybe I left it with that whore, Sir.”

Silence filled the room for a beat, I could feel the tension becoming thicker. I glanced at Martin who shrugged, sharing the same questioning look as me.

“What whore?” Speirs spat, picking up the man’s head by his hair, getting into his face. The man only flashed a bloodied grin at him.

“You know, that girl. The pretty medic. What was her name, ah, that’s right Lane. Emily Lane.” The replacement grinned sadistically.

The room swirled as the air left my lungs. I felt as if I had been slapped in the face.

That couldn’t be right. Emily was in bed, she was sleeping. Grant had walked her back to- hadn’t he? Or was she with him when it happened. Disbelief clouded my vision, I felt like I could barf. He was wrong, she was safe in bed.

My heart was pounding in my ears, surely he had to be mistaken. But he said her name, he knew who she was.

Martin’s hand clamped on my shoulder as he leaned into my vision. I shook with rage and fear. There was no way this was true. Martin’s gaze fixed with mine, he was mouthing something, or he was saying it, I couldn’t understand it either way. My white knuckles clamped at my sides. I waited for someone to speak.

“What did you do to Emily?” Speirs snarled, the room was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

“She just lay there and took it, like a good little slut.”

Another blow came from Speirs as he struck him again across the face this time with his fist. I hadn’t realised but I had surged forward, both Bull and Martin held me still.

“Wait boy, we don’t know it’s true yet.” Bull whispered beside me.

“What did you do to her?” Ron snapped in the man’s face. As he laughed.

“I had my way with her and then disposed of the evidence.”

What did he mean by disposing of the evidence? My skin felt like it was on fire, the only thing I could really hear was my erratic heart rate pounding in my ears. I only saw red. Rage shook my body.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” I roared, surging forward to get to the man. I was held back though, Johnny had a firm grip around me. I looked around the room, the men all looked horrified and disgusted. Their stares could kill. It was silent, as the man coughed up blood. I hoped he would choke on it. I was still trying to fight Martin’s grip. Why was no one doing anything!

“Get the replacements in here now!” Speirs demanded. Someone left the room and arrived back with two skinny looking men.

“Who was with you in the car?” Speirs boomed. The two boys shied away from the furious Captain.

“Answer me!”

“It was us, Sergeant Grant and-” The replacement stalled looking around the room.

“Who else, private?” Ron seethed with rage, “Who else?” Speirs' voice echoed around the room.

“The female medic, she said her name was Em.”

So it was true.

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Chapter 39

#band of brothers #hbo war #donald malarkey #easy company #band of brothers fanfic #ronald speirs #TW #Emily lane #Emarkey #if anyone wants to chat after this #please reach out to me #love you all #I hope you are all staying safe and are well

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pricescigar · 2 months ago

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Love Bites Pt4

Tw: Violence, gore

Summary: With the Vampire hunters banding together to rescue Elvira, little did they know they walked right into Price's trap where he wanted them to be.

“He really is an honourable man,” The maid said, talking about Price.

Honourable? What's so honourable about a monster?

Elvira stayed silent for a moment as the maid bathed her in the bathroom. The rumours weren't wrong when they said that Price was an intelligent man, many previous Vampire hunters said the Vampire King could teleport his Castle to wherever he wished, Price was a man of Science. A man of sorcery and Necromancy, an undead army of monsters and all sorts of creatures. He could transform into a bat, Wolf, whatever animal he desired.

Which made Elvira think…

“Don't you think so?” The maid cleared her throat, a little disappointed to the fact Elvira wasn't fully listening.

Elvira looked over to the maid realising that she was talking to her. “What is honourable about a man like him?” Elvira scoffed at what the maid said.

“You'll understand one day.” The maid dutifully said.

Elvira rolled her eyes slightly and mainly focused on the interior of the Bathroom. It was not like any bathroom, vastly different than all the others she had seen. She was quite privileged growing up, she had all kinds of facilities she needed. But this was much different.

After her bath, the maid dried her and took her to the dressing room to get Elvira ready for the evening. Time was of the essence, and Price wasn't a patient man at the moment.

Elvira allowed the maid to braid her hair, albeit she was a little rough but she didn't want to complain. After that she was then dressed in a beautiful linen red dress, the ends resting just by her feet. The fabric was out of this world. Richer than than all the dresses Elvira has ever worn, to match the look red shoes were placed upon her feet.

“All done.” The maid stood up. “The King would be most happy.

“Thank you,” Elvira mumbled. “And of course he would…”

The door opened and Price stepped in, although he had to bend down slightly to fight himself in the doorway. His eyes immediately went onto Elvira and smiled at the sight of her.

“You look amazing…” He complimented, taking her hand into his. Elvira couldn't get over how cold it was, alas she had no choice but to ignore it. “Let's go.” He said.

Elvira stood up and followed him out of the dress room. “So what's the occasion for tonight?” She asked again.

“You'll see.” He'd say, keeping everything vague once again.

Not saying anything Elvira continued to follow him, they walked through the corridor of the grand castle. Luckily Price was leading the way, otherwise Elvira would've gotten lost. They went down the stairs, he led her through many corridors before finally entering the dining room.

The dining room was large unlike any other, a long table stood out in the middle and many seats were placed near each other. The room itself could fit many people around the table, around 32 seats to be precise.

“Dinner? That's all?” Elvira crossed her arms looking up at him. “All of this keeping it a secret, and it's just dinner?”

“There's more to that… You ought to be patient. Seems your father has failed to teach you that.” Price mused, he pulled a chair out for her letting her sit down. Elvira sat at one end, while Price sat at the head of the table.

Elvira stayed silent and looked down to see all sorts of food was laid out for her, Price knew she would be hungry. Beside her was a large goblet of wine, all for her. Alas for Price? He would be drinking blood, as per usual.

Remaining silent, she got her cutlery and began to eat her food. Trying not to eat so fast as it would be rude, and also because she didn't want a stomach ache.

When he tasted her blood when he found her unconscious body in his bat form was magnificent, he saw how Elvira battled her father. Killing him in the process, risking her life. That's when he took the chance, he took the bite.

Though it was only a quick bite before he heard the large group of hunters rushing to Elvira's rescue. Price watched over her when she was taken back to the Hunters regime, knowing that they would send her to her death.

And now he wanted to taste her again, this blood that he was currently drinking did not suffice.

“The food is good, thank you.” Elvira spoke which made Price snap back into reality.

“Told you, it is not poisoned. Eat to your heart's content.” Price simply said.

He was nice, too nice. Which made Elvira suspicious, she knew he had something else planned but what was it?

“And the wine?” He asked.

“It's good, but what kind of wine is it? It has a strange after taste… Metallic almost.” Elvira said.

Price chuckled. “It's my own special kind of wine, if I told you what I put in it… I wouldn't be a secret. Most wines have a metallic taste.”

Elvira finished eating her dinner and drinking the goblet of wine, she placed it back onto the table.

“Sir.” Ghost walked into the dining room, looking at Elvira for a moment before looking at Price. “They're here, for her.” He said.

“Ah. It seems your little Hunter friends have arrived.” Price spoke as he stood up from his seat. “I will deal with them.”

“They're the best hunters out there, the kind that you shouldn't mess with.” Elvira stood up from her seat. “You're making a grave mistake messing with them.” She threatened him.

In a blink of an eye Price appeared beside her. “Oh really?” He chuckled at her statement.

“I'll see it for myself.” He grinned. “Keep an eye on her Ghost while we speak to them, I do not want her out of your sight, Ghost, till we feast.”

Ghost nodded, he observed the two closely as Price grabbed Elvira's hadn't gracefully to the Castle's entrance.

Elvira was beginning to become frustrated, she was tired of being trapped in this god forsaken Castle. The moonlight shone through the windows as they walked by, a thought crossed her mind… She knew the plan was risky. But it was a good one.

“Don't even think about doing what I think you're doing.” Price's grip on Elvira's arm became tight.

“I'm not staying in this Castle!” Elvira yelled at him.

“Yes. You will.” Price responded, his eyes glowing a crimson red colour. “You'll stay here for all eternity, no one shall ever take you away from me again.”

“You're insane.” Elvira spat at him.

“Maybe I am.” Price responded. He opened the door to show most of the Vampire hunters who had already been captured by Soap and Gaz. Many other vampires watched closely too, some eyeing Elvira and the others at the Hunters.

“My esteemed guests, how rude of you to walk around my land without a proper invitation. I did not invite you did I?” Price finally let go of Elvira as he stepped towards the Hunters.

“Let them go Dracula, you already have me. That should be enough.” Elvira said, but Price ignored her.

“You traitor Elvira, you're just like your father.” Jacob spoke. “We should've killed you when we had the chance.” He said in anger.

“You were the ones to send her to death.” Price stepped towards Jacob. “And now I have the love of my life back, I bid you thank you… Jacob.” He smiled before he used his claws, piercing a hole through his chest ripping out his beating heart.

Elvira's eyes widened witnessing what Price had done, she was at a loss for words.

“Now, let us feast.” Price gave the order to his men. With the last thirty nine hunters that were helpless, unable to do anything. The Vampires quickly attacked.

It became a blood bath quickly, men and women screaming in pain while the Vampires feasted upon their blood. Elvira felt her adrenaline kicked in while they were preoccupied, she quickly took her chance to escape. Grabbing one of the Hunter’s weapons, before she ran into the forest.

One of the Vampires that was not Price, nor his trusted men noticed this. With his hunger not satisfied enough. He stalked Elvira as she ran into the forest.

Elvira ran as fast as she could in the forest, she didn't know where she was going. Anything to get her away from the Castle.

Price noticed that she was no longer around. “Where the hell is Elvira?!” He looked around, all of his men were present, all except for one.

“Hm.” He mumbled, he sensed her in the forest, her heart beating fast.

Transforming into his Wolf form Price quickly ran into the forest, leaving the rest of his men at the Castle. Catching more of her scent as he ran.

“Finally I get to have you all to myself.” A voice spoke out loud.

Elvira stopped running as she heard the voice. She turned to see a Vampire she saw earlier in the courtyard. It wasn't Price, one of his minions.

“Elvira Wolff, the famous Hunter.” He stepped towards her. “You killed my brother.” The Vampire spoke.

“Well like most, Vampires are a plague in this world.” Elvira responded, she kept the crossbow close to her before aiming it at him.

The Vampire laughed. “I'm going to enjoy feasting on you.” He said as he stepped towards her.

Elvira shot the crossbow, which had a coating of holy water on it. The Vampire groaned in pain, holding onto his arms for a moment.

“You fucking bitch, You'll pay for that when I fucking kill you and feast on your blood.” He hissed, he quickly walked towards her using his claws to cut her arm.

Elvira groaned in pain slightly, dropping the crossbow from her hands. The Vampire pinned her down on the ground by her throat, almost squeezing the life out of her.

“When I finally kill you, the Wolff family will be finished.” He laughed mockingly. “You'll be my little pet when I'm done with you.”

Elvira gasped for breath as she tried to pull his hand away from her throat. His strength was too great, despite him being injured by the holy water.

The Vampire opened his mouth agape revealing his canine teeth, ready to rip out her jugular with his teeth.

She felt herself almost fading away, her eyes almost closing. She was losing oxygen quickly, the light in her eyes almost fading away

Price found the both of them, transforming back into his Vampiric form. He sped up towards him and grabbed the Vampire off of Elvira's body.

Elvira gasped for breath as she coughed, trying to regulate her breathing. Holding onto her throat gently.

“Your majesty-” The Vampire tried to speak, but Price didn't want to hear any of it.

“Your punishment will be death.” Price ripped out his jugular with his claws, blood pouring out of the man's throat all over Price and on the ground. With his strength he ripped the man's body apart, his intestines and organs falling down on the grass.

Price breathed heavily, dropping the man’s ripped half body on the ground, looking over to see Elvira on the floor. Quickly walking towards her, kneeling down as he placed his hands either side of her cave.

“Breathe gently,” He whispered.

Elvira took a few moments to compose herself, when she opened her eyes she saw Price. There was a hunt of worry in his eyes. She saw the blood all over his clothes, she quickly knew it wasn't his.

“Fuck…” Her voice was hoarse.

“You're fine, that Vampire won't bother you anymore.” Price sat her up gently, he brushed the strands of her hair away from her face.

Elvira cleared her throat slightly. “Thank you…” She whispered softly.

“Let's get you back.” Price spoke softly, he lifted her up bridal style and stood up. Keeping her close to his chest, holding onto her tightly as he began to walk back to the Castle.

#call of duty #cod #cod mw #call of duty modern warfare #cod modern warfare #captain price #john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon riley ghost #johnny soap mactavish #cod fanfic #cod oc #oc #ocs #elvira wolff #johnvira

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bladedhunter · 6 months ago

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Sometimes, being well-known is a liability. Sometimes, people go after you with plans they've spent years plotting. Sometimes, people go after you with swords drawn, traps ready, and justsu that have been developed to put you an inch from your life. And sometimes, it just happens to be one of those days where you're chased like a dog through the mountains.

Today it's a chase for some medical malpractise from ten years ago, and some child abductions, and minor eugenic experiments. That it was all for good reason, is absolutely lost on the mob and their specialized-assassins-for-hire.

Orochimaru pants with a rasp at every inhale. One rib is pressing dangerously against his lung. He stumbles, leans against a tree to stay upright, and grimaces. He is sure he must look like a porcupine, with so many kunais and shuriken and needles in his back.

If his chasers find him again, he will have to admit the battle has really gotten out of hand, and he might have to shed this skin. But that jutsu takes a lot of chakra, and hah! Interesting! He's absolutely exhausted.

The dogs are on his trail, and a trap snaps shut. It has blizzard properties, coating him in a net that oozes snow and ice. It covers him in sub-zero temperature. Orochimaru doesn't know what he could do to get out of this situation. The ice makes him slow. He has to admit, the attackers are exceptionally well prepared for this blood hunt.

He is heaving, and breathing in icy snow, and he doesn't know how he'll make it out of this dire situation.

Sasuke wasn't looking for Orochimaru; on the contrary, he was looking for a rare mountain herb, which the Konoha village apparently had run out of for the hospital. It was easier for Sasuke to get there than to send some shinobi to a far-away, grueling and dangerous journey through the icy mountain peaks.

It wasn't his typical mission, but he figured it shouldn't take long, so he didn't mind doing it. Little did he expect to sense Orochimaru nearby... and with dwindling chakra reserves, no less.

Sasuke wasn't prepared to stay here long, but at least he was dressed for the weather, and always prepared for battle. As much as he sprinted most of the remaining distance to Orochimaru (which ended up not being that long), Sasuke approached the sannin calmly.

His gaze, however, swept over Orochimaru with something akin to concern, but maybe not quite -- just checking his injuries, seeing his physical state.

"Who did this," he asked. But he didn't need an answer exactly, because pretty soon, he could sense them coming, could tell a genjutsu had been cast to welcome them.

Sharingan activated, Sasuke looked towards where the sannin's pursuers were. Many pursuers. His eyes returned to Orochimaru. He sighed. "Come on," the Uchiha muttered. He didn't want to fight people that may have been justified in trying to kill his former teacher and, besides, Orochimaru was pretty beat up. They would just have to escape.

His arm slipped around the sannin's waist just as a black portal swirled into existence in front of them. "Let's go."

#hope this is okay!#uchihacollector #c: sasuke

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nestasgalpal · 2 years ago

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Inspiration prompt for valentines week: Cassian having a nightmare about killing Nesta during the Rite so Nesta comforts him. Angst and fluff 😊

Terrors calling [Nessian]

Nesta’s Gal Pal masterlist | AO3

Summary: Cassian has a nightmare and Nesta comforts him (thanks for the idea, lovely anon!)

Written for Day 4 of @sjmromanceweek: Favorite Tropes

It was the cold sound of metal clashing, thundering in his ears when their blades met. It was the sweat running down his nape as he tried to resist the Queen's command —the unmistakable taste of blood in his mouth, what made him feel so there. His senses couldn't be fooled, and it was in fact his mind what had proven itself to be corruptible.

In such a dispute, Cassian knew the right thing to do was trust his instinct, his guts, that had never failed him. But he didn't listen this time. He was certain there was no way for a lie to feel so vivid.

The truth was he was about to kill Nesta.

Although she put up a fight, Nesta's exhausted body didn't stand a chance against his. He was a far more experienced soldier. He was the General, the best of them. So his mate fell on the ground, forgiveness in her eyes as she accepted what he was about to do.

It was the sight of her love, so clear in her face, what made him scream in fear of his own impotence. He was going to kill her, the one person he should be giving his life to protect.

Obeying a will that was not his own, Cassian raised his hand, knife firmly held above his mate's neck, and with a clean cut, he sliced her throat.

Then something cold and wet touched his face, blinding him, and Cassian realized he was free to move again. With all the strength he had left, he slapped it to get rid it.

Nesta's gasp had a tint of pain in it. That was the first thing Cassian heard when he woke up. The bed was moving beneath them, or maybe it was the whole room what was spinning. He couldn't focus his eyesight enough to tell.

He still chose to get up on his elbows, try to make sense of what was happening —where he was.

Sat on her legs, Nesta held with care her own hand against her chest, a wet cloth poking from it. With the other one she was covering the back of it, where he had hit her with the sudden movement.

"Nes, what-"

"You are burning, and you wouldn't wake up." Cassian touched his own forehead and realized how bad the fever had gotten since he went to sleep.

Nesta crawled in bed to get closer again. Cassian didn't complain this time when she put the cloth over his forehead, but he felt the cold and hissed. It didn't worsen the fever, but wasn't of much help either.

"I hurt you. In my nightmare." He explained when Nesta gave him a confused look.

He felt kind of lost as well. His mind hadn't set entirely, and a part of him feared he was still trapped in a fever dream. It had been so vivid. He had heard, felt, tasted the truth in it. The way the adrenaline rushed in his blood resembled the way it did in battle. Cassian was having a hard time focusing or even hearing whatever Nesta was saying now.

"I can't breathe, it's too hot in here." He mumbled, probably interrupting her, he didn't know.

Was the fire on? He had to look around, for a moment forgetting where the chimney was in their room. No, it wasn't. Cassian pulled the sheets and furs from him, needing more than the small piece of fabric Nesta held. He needed to cool faster. Now. His skin burned, his head didn't function as it should, and this fever was killing him —had been doing so for three days now.

Coming out of bed only made Nesta complain, it didn't help him. When his naked feet touched the floor, Cassian sought the reassurance of reality in there, but it didn't feel different from the ground on his nightmare. When he touched his nape, sweat was pooling under the hair.

Nesta was now on her feet as well, and he noticed the nightgown creased where her legs had been flexed. She took some steps towards him, but he extended an arm in the air to stop her.

Cassian rubbed his eyes, then covered his face with both hands, holding back the tears.

"I don't want to hurt you, Nes." He sobbed. "I keep having this nightmare where I kill you, and I am never strong enough to restrain myself. I might be losing my mind."

"You are just sick, Cassian. And I think being inside is only making it worse." Nesta didn't sound scared, only concerned for him and his sanity. "Tomorrow we could go out, to the porch, maybe, and we can sit there for a while."

But Cassian knew it couldn't wait until tomorrow. The morning sounded like a time too far in the future. His heartbeat rumbled in his ears, and it was at that rhythm that his feet moved when he stormed out of their bedroom.

The cottage had been built centuries ago, so the wood planks cracked under his weight with every step. He could feel more than hear Nesta running after him.

It was his anxiety leading the way, his body following without question. He was not thinking as he moved. In fact, Cassian did his best to keep his mind blank, keep those intrusive thoughts out, even if it required not reasoning at all. Hitting his shoulder against the door frame on his way out, Cassian briefly noticed he didn't remember opening the door. But he must had, for he was now running down the stairs from the porch.

"Stay away from me." He begged her. "I will only hurt you."

His mate musn't have heard him, because when his legs failed him and Cassian dropped to his knees, Nesta was there to stop him from falling face-first on the ground. The collapse wasn't softened by them, but layers and layers of yellow leaves got crushed beneath his weight. From behind, Nesta hugged him, and Cassian was somehow comforted by the fact that at least he wasn't the only one crying.

They did so in silence. Not even night owls dared break the quietude of the forest now that he had finally stopped making a fuss.

"I don't want to hurt you." It sounded kind of like a confession, although it was a known truth for her.

"Right now, I only worry you will hurt yourself." She complained immediately in that voice that actually wanted to say I know better than you.

Still, there were also other thoughts tormenting his mind. He chose to let them out, maybe then Nesta would understand. "I also hate that you have to see me like this." What else could he say but the truth?

He was on his knees on the ground, pathetically sick, and only now cooling down from his outbreak.

"It's okay, I want to help."

"I shouldn't be dreaming about killing you when I go to sleep." Above anything else, he felt guilt, and shame.

"It wasn't a dream, Cassian, it was a nightmare."

Cassian didn't respond. He let himself drop back on the ground. This time Nesta allowed it. She sited by his side so he could rest his head on her legs, and her fingers quickly found their way into his hair, soothing him better than the autumn breeze could.

"Focus on the sound of the leaves breaking when you lay on top of them." Her voice became the only sound he could hear. "Feel the firmness of the earth beneath you."

Cassian took a fistful of the soil with his right hand, and the scent of the moist dirt immediately filled his nostrils. "Can you smell that?" Nesta asked him. "That's the real world around you."

Before they met, Cassian had a different way to cope. When angry and frustrated, he could always count on Rhys and Az to fight until their bodies gave up. By the time they were done, not only were they bruised and bleeding, but they were also too tired to be mad at anything.

When sick, he could always count on Madja giving him a medicine strong enough to palliate the pain, so when nightmares tormented his sleep, Cassian was feeling strong enough to wake Rhys or Az and dare them to a fight to forget the terrors calling.

"Now look up at the stars." Nesta's voice was honey coating his anxiety. "Let's count them."

In these past days he had sometimes had the urge to, on top of Madja's medicine, call one of his brothers and go back to the old habits. Deal with the problem in a way that had always worked.

But his woman deserved better.

"One, two, three, four..." The constellations didn't move like their room had. They stayed still so Cassian could number the stars in them. "Five, six..."

Nesta had made it clear years ago that she wouldn't allow violence or dangerous behaviour in their household. Not even her old coping techniques were permitted. If he wanted to raise kids with her one day, they both needed to do better.

"Twenty-six, twenty-seven..." She helped him. Apparently he had gotten stuck.

The kids would see enough violence in the camps, so their home must become a refuge. He had to find a way to keep these outbreaks in check so they could have children, lots of them. A huge family.

"Sixty three." Counting stars did help him. This wasn't their first time doing it. "Sixty four."

When he was particularly angry at something, Nesta would put him to knead bread dough to make the most out of his need for punching. She had found her comfortable relief in silently knitting.

"Sixty-five, sixty-six." Her counting meant he had been quiet for a while. She stopped as well, although tonight the skies were clear, and hundreds of silver dots were visible from their spot, waiting to be noticed. Nesta knew he had cooled down enough to think now.

"Nes." He called. "If I want a life with you, why do I keep seeing that in my sleep?"

He truly hoped she had an answer to appease his demons.

"Sickness makes us vulnerable, so the nightmares it causes take us to the times we were defenseless." Her fingers kept working their magic in between his hair. "I remember my world crumbling down that day when I thought you were gone. I thought you had died because of me."

"You didn't do anything to me." He argued.

"Neither did you. Not only did you not kill me, Cassian, but you saved my life." She leaned forward so their foreheads touched. Cassian closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy it. "If the nightmare ever comes back, remember that we both lived because we loved each other enough to survive it. It wouldn't be fair to have done so, only for us to not enjoy the life we fought for."

Raising his arm, he reached for her head and made sure to prolong their touch.

"You promised we would have time, and here we are, living our second chance together." He noticed his cheek being wet, but didn't know anymore if those tears belonged to him. "I'm not scared of you, but rather of you getting lost in your own fears."

Cassian swallowed hard, thankful to have a mate that did, in fact, know better than him. "I won't." He promised her. He would keep improving for their future's sake.

"Then we will be okay."

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hey-hey-its-magic · 2 years ago

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mayhaps Caeneth and The Devil for the tarot asks 👀

oh my god my heart

-- caeneth clay --

XV - The Devil : Entrapment, bondage, being stuck on the material plane, ignorance, hopelessness, depression, doubt, loss of hope.

Caeneth's whole life has surrounded feelings of entrapment, depression, and hopelessness.

Living with her abusive mother in Blumenthal, never feeling like she was good enough or having a direction. Moving a million miles south to join the Golden Chain simply changed the source of those feelings, being on the road where nobody knows you, and nobody cares for you, while she was still so young. The mercenaries at the Golden Chain beat bitterness and cynicism into her, and turned her into a killing machine. She missed the sweetgrass of Blumenthal.

With the Golden Chain she got her family, but they were more than rough around the edges, they were a crowd of sociopaths. Her first love was teasing and sinister and she loved them because they smiled at her. Before the war happened, the Golden Chain was contracted by the Dwendalian Empire in order to fight Xhorhas without their armies getting directly involved. She was muzzled then, ruining innocent lives without being able to talk about it. She was seeing war, but she couldn't call it that. Nobody knew it was happening outside of her little bubble. It crushed her.

And then she lost everyone. Everyone was either dead or missing in action. Her little crush, who said they'd never waste time trying to save her skin, died trying to haul her out of the battle. She'd lost her left arm, a lightning bolt spell shooting straight through her fingers. By the time she'd gotten out it had to be amputated above the elbow.

Which meant she was a cripple. After about eight weeks recovery, she got a notice saying she had been let go from the Golden Chain, given her pension, and set to wander aimlessly. Once again, lost, alone, depressed, hopeless.

Then she ends up under the care of a sweet old gnome who makes her a beautiful, magical arm. It's clunky and awkward and is nothing like the real thing, but it works well enough. She can knit again. She never thought she'd get to. Except, the old man is demented as hell, constantly calls her by the wrong names. He's overbearing, demanding, and his charity might have been for free but it came with a cost. Caeneth had thought she'd never be able to get up off of his couch again, that she was going to spend the rest of her life on his old couch in his home on the edge of Hupperdook, taking care of him while he took care of her like some prized pet or livestock. But she couldn't take it anymore, and got up off the couch, and wandered deeper into town.

Then she meets this far-too-comfortable drow elf with the night sky painted on her skin, and takes a caravan ride to take her anywhere but here. Anywhere but here takes her off of the material plane and into the mists of the Shadowfell. Trapped again, with a new partner, she kicks herself because she's not nearly as good of a fighter as she had been. But there's no time for self-loathing when your life is on the line, so caeneth packs up the nightmares and the frustration and the fear and does what she does best: survive, against all odds.

#ask game #thank u ash <3<3 #my ocs

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nervouslaughter05 · 2 years ago

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Of Monsters and Men Chapter 4: Saved by a Ghost

A/N: Here it is! Chapter 4!!!

Finally more Ghost appearances here! MAH BOIIIIIIIIII

As always CW: canon-typical violence, blood and injury, nothing is explicitly described, Grizzly and Co. kill people, language

Come yell at me on Twitter @vegas719 and my art insta @timetoart05

Masterlist

Grizzly sucks in a sharp breath, reacting almost instantly. Rifle still slung over her back from its position against the ground, she shoves the barrel up and away with enough force to make the man stumble. She scrambles from the hollow, dodging to the side to avoid a bullet to the gut and instead gets grazed. Ignoring the spike of pain, she keeps moving. She slings the rifle over her back to gain mobility and dives at his torso, sending them both toppling to the ground.

They wrestle in the dirt, each of them trying to subdue the other.

He was taller than her by almost four or so inches and built bigger as well, meaning if she got pinned it was basically a guaranteed game over. So she fights, and she fights with a passion to stop that from happening. When she knocked him over, the pistol had fallen from his grasp and was now lying menacingly in the grass just a couple feet away. He reaches for it and the moment of distraction while she has him pinned down with her knees against his arms is enough for their positions to switch.

He straddles her chest, trapping her legs beneath him while one arm is twisted behind her back and pressed against the ground while he holds her other wrist in his firm hold.

‘No!’ Grizzly thinks, struggling in his hold. ‘I can’t go out-not like this!’

A hand closes around her throat and she struggles to breathe through the increasing pressure against her windpipe. The edges of her vision are starting to go dark. She fights against the panic rising in her throat, trying to quickly think of a way to make it out of this alive. In her struggle, the arm pinned behind her back had been able to slip further out. Getting an idea, she gradually stops struggling, trying to make it seem like the lack of oxygen was making her pass out–not that she wasn’t close to that point. He buys the act, loosening his grip enough for her to move.

She grabs at the pistol strapped to her right thigh, pulling it out and not wasting a moment before she’s putting a bullet between his ribs.

He rolls off, clutching at his side while reaching for his own pistol. Grizzly fires a shot at his head, the bullet dropping him hunched over on the ground, dead. She breathes heavily, chest heaving up and down as she lowers the pistol. Now hyper aware of her surroundings, she puts the pistol away and grabs her rifle again, trudging further into the undergrowth.

She raises the hand not pressing against her side to her neck, fingers brushing against bare skin where her throat mic was supposed to be.

“Shit” Grizzly curses, glancing behind her while wondering when or how she had lost the com unit.

She realizes it must’ve been when that guy had grabbed her throat and then fallen over since he basically clawed into the skin there. He had probably yanked it off and she’d been too hyped up on adrenaline and the thought of survival to even think to check. Knowing the team had no way of contacting her and vice versa digs the pit of anxiety deeper in her gut, and she resolves to get to the safehouse as quickly as possible.

The sun was beginning to rise now, rays of light filtering through the treetops.

As the adrenaline wears off, the pain from the bullet graze on her leg and side and the bruises she’d gotten in the fight begins to surface. She ignores the pain, continuing to move with her rifle in hand since she didn’t know if there were any other hidden assailants. If she sat down to rest it would leave her a target as she dressed her wounds, so she deemed it not worth it for the time being.

Every rustling leaf and animal cry had her on edge, and it wasn’t long before the exhaustion began to get to her.

Despite knowing the danger of stopping, Grizzly also knew that if she didn’t stop soon, there was a higher risk of her falling or hurting herself from exhaustion. She finds a spot to hide herself in, tucked away in a bunch of rocks and overgrown tree roots so that if someone walked by they wouldn’t immediately see her. She sets about cleaning and doing some quick stitches on the grazes, finishing it off with a wad of cotton and some gauze to hold it in place. Handling the one on her side is much more difficult and she has to bite back a whine several times, but she still gets it done.

The whole time she remains alert, listening for anyone who could be a danger.

She hears the hushed voices of a couple of men, and by the sound of it they were heading right for her hiding spot. Cursing internally, Grizzly firmly grasps her rifle, dropping the used medical materials carelessly on the ground. The men keep heading her way, and she’s able to pick out what they were saying a little better than before.

“Gotta find the woman. You take the doc and those dumbasses are like little fawns just waiting to be shot.”

A chuckle. “Should make sure she pays kindly for taking out Tanem like she did.”

“Agreed.”

She holds her breath, shifting slowly into a more combat ready position so that when they came she was prepared. The movement must have revealed her position somehow, because a warning shot is fired in her direction, hitting a root just a few inches to the left of her face. It catches her off guard, but she stills, entire body tense. There’s a beat of silence as the footsteps suddenly still, and she tries to figure out where the men were.

Until one of them peeks right into the place she’d tucked herself into with a rifle.

Grizzly aims her own rifle up, but right before she has a chance to fire the man drops to the ground with a thump. There’s a sharp yell of alarm from his companion that’s suddenly cut off with a choked gurgle. She stills again, praying that this wasn’t someone she needed to be worried about.

“Grizzly?”

The Manchester accent alerts her to who it was immediately, and she quickly hurries from the spot she’d tucked herself into. The sight before her is one she takes in gratefully, trotting to her teammate. His eyes rake over her, likely taking in the bandages hastily wrapped around her thigh and the blood stain on her shirt.

“Injured?” he asks, watching as she zips up her med kit and slings it back over her front.

She looks up at him. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“And your throat?”

“Ah,” Grizzly replies, swallowing and feeling a spike of pain from the action. “Encountered a hostile while hiding out. Thought it’d be a good idea to try and choke me out. That’s how I lost my mic. What about you? Encounter anything?”

He hesitates a moment, seeming to deliberate whether or not he should answer her. When she fixes him with a hard stare, he simply huffs and nods once–likely because he knew she wouldn’t stop pestering him until she got the chance to look it over.

“How serious?” she asks, already unzipping her pack and checking over the remaining materials she had.

“Not enough to stop.”

Grizzly’s head snaps up so her eyes meet his. “Ghost-”

He cuts her off. “We need to move.”

“Lieutenant,” she insists, watching him collect his knives and any spare ammo from the men. “If you are seriously injured I need to treat you. Price is gonna have my head if I bring you to him dead.”

He makes that scoffing huff noise. “And he’d ‘ave mine if it was reversed for ya. Now tha’ we’ve established this, let's move.”

Grizzly sighs, zipping up her pack as he radioes in to Price to confirm he’d found her and they were heading to the safehouse. She can’t hear any of the other’s responses, but based on the way Ghost rolls his eyes while they walk she can assume Soap is talking. She watches their surroundings, rifle grasped firmly in her hands. He falls silent after signing off, and they trot along in silence after that.

It reminds her of when the two of them first met back when she was still with the Raiders–how he was dead silent save for when giving orders and she was the only one who didn’t try to engage in a conversation with him. At the time, she’d recognized he wasn’t a small talk kind of person and thus hadn’t tried. As they continued to work together, she gradually began to try to interact in small ways. Eventually, they were able to hold entire conversations, but that only came about as the result of a near death experience in which she had just torn into a corporal for not watching their backs as he needed to.

Part of her misses those days when she was a marine, not having to worry about anything more pressing than ensuring her soldiers stayed alive long enough to fight another day and be able to return home to their families in one piece. When she was still bright-eyed and hopeful, thinking that enlisting right out of high school was the best idea one could ever have. When she hadn’t yet known the feeling of taking someone else’s life or having them bleed out in her grasp as she tried desperately to save them.

She wonders faintly if she’ll die in the field someday, laid out in the middle of nowhere with a bullet or a knife lodged in her skin.

She gets tugged back by the bitch strap of her vest, not harshly but firm enough to make her stumble a bit. As she turns to Ghost to ask what the hell he was doing, he simply tugs her more firmly as he picks up his pace, veering away from the normal path and onto a more rough one. Grizzly follows as quickly as she can, forcing through the pain in her leg from the sudden change in pace.

Just as she’s getting used to the pace and direction they’re heading, she gets tugged by her bitch strap again and this time is also shoved down. Before she can react in a violent manner, she catches sight of the skull mask and stills. He squeezes into the hollow, his back to her as they settle in.

“You better have a good excuse for this,” she whispers, trying not to squirm in the uncomfortable spot he’d forced them both into. “Otherwise I’m gonna have to assume my charm was too much for you to keep your composure.”

“Hush” Ghost hisses back, sliding a gloved hand over her mouth right as she opens it to give a snappy reply.

She listens to him, ears perked intently for any noise. If he had decided to shove them both down into this hiding spot instead of fighting then there must have been something dangerous nearby. Grizzly leans back as far as she can in the cramped space, pulling him back with her. His hand falls from over her mouth, bracing against the dirt above their heads.

As she’s controlling her breathing, that’s when she realizes just how <i>close</i> they are to one another. She was tucked against his side, beneath the arm with the hand braced to the ceiling. His legs were over her own while one arm was in a position similar to the one he was holding and the other was curled over her rifle. Subconsciously she found herself matching his breathing, calming the fierce racing of her heart.

The silence eats at her little by little, the urge to squirm–to run away from whatever the threat was–increasing with each passing minute. Ghost must have sensed her rising worry, because she feels a gloved hand press gentle against her nape. She chances a quick look at him, catching him with his eyes still trained straight ahead.

“Ghost-”

A branch snaps, and she tightens the grip on her rifle. Footsteps follow, a low voice grumbling irritably. Grizzly fights the urge to jump out and face the approaching individual just to get the interaction over with.

“Easy now,” Ghost murmurs just barely loud enough for her to hear, so close she could faintly feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke.

She doesn’t look at him, giving a simple nod of her head and waiting.

He shifts slowly, and it’s only after a solid twenty seconds that she realizes he’s getting one of his knives. The footsteps grow closer, the grumbling becoming more clear. The accent is American, sounding like whoever was talking had a horrible cold–probably from somewhere on the East Coast–and she tenses up.

The current position they had gotten themselves into wasn’t ideal for facing a threat, but considering Ghost could practically throw his knives blind, this wasn't a concern for her. A pair of boots come into view about two feet from her face, stopping for a moment and speaking into the open air–talking in some com system maybe?-before moving on. The breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding is released slowly, tension bleeding slightly from her shoulders.

They wait a few more minutes, listening for any other noise before even considering crawling out. Ghost clambers out first, ready to fight anything that may be outside while she slowly uncurls herself from the cramped position she had taken while he was inside the hollow with her. When he doesn’t drop down injured or make any sudden moves to indicate an enemy being present, she climbs out. Ghost offers a hand, something she’s grateful for considering her thigh and side were burning now, and she takes it.

Once she’s out, he starts leading them back in the direction of the safehouse, staying away from the path. He radios in to Price again, alerting him there were potential hostiles in the area and to keep an eye out. Grizzly stays alert the entire walk, trying to keep pace with her lieutenant and ignoring the pain she was in.

They reach the metal fence when the sun was nearly fully risen in the sky, Grizzly needing some assistance to clear it because of her injuries. Ghost didn’t seem to have any trouble getting over, but then again he also was a behemoth of a man who was used to going days without getting medical care besides however he treated himself.

By the time they were around a quarter of the way to the safehouse, that’s when she really notices her adrenaline running out and the pain fully setting in. By half she was nearly limping and just barely managing to keep pace with Ghost. By three quarters of the way, Grizzly was gritting her teeth against the pain. For the final quarter, she was ready to collapse, about to do so right as the safehouse came into view.

“Thank fuck,” she says, pausing for a moment to gather herself before proceeding further.

“Don’t thank anything yet,” Ghost tells her, looking even more on edge than he did before the safehouse came into sight. “We ‘ave no way o’ knowin’ who or what’s in there.”

She’s reminded of the fact none of the others had radioed in to confirm arriving at the safehouse, mostly because Price had declared them to go basically dark unless deemed absolutely necessary once she and Ghost had joined up. It could be anyone inside those walls. The thought of what the two of them might find inside is enough to inspire her fight instinct.

Ghost leads the way in, body partially shielding her own as she watches the back.

They make their way through the safehouse, thoroughly searching every hiding spot they could think of. They make it back to the front door, and Grizzly finally lets her guard down a little. There’s a noise to their left. She and Ghost spin with rifles raised just to see a raccoon had gotten in and knocked something over.

The creature stares at them with bored, beady, black eyes and then runs away to another part of the safehouse.

“It’s clear,” Ghost says, going to the door and locking it.

She sits down on a chair, settling with a wince as the movement aggravates the graze on her thigh and the bruises to her sides. “What about the others?” she asks, motioning to the now locked door. “What if they need in?”

“They’ll figure something out. For now, we prioritize ourselves,” the lieutenant replies, fixing her with a hard look. “Understood?”

Grizzly nods. “Understood.”

#original work #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x female oc #ghost call of duty #i love simon riley #call of duty #original character

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fluffallamaful · 2 years ago

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Another Time Travel AU: Sapnap’s Manhunt

So in the previous TT AUs, Dream was basically put under the care of the other server members. This is what happens when that DOESN’T happen. He’s out and about and — still in is canonical deterioration process, but also a threat. He’s still running, hiding, plotting, and continuing through with his plan even though he’s forgotten why he’s doing it in the first place because at this point he’s come so far and he’s been abandoned and humiliated and tortured and this plan is all he has left to keep him going ooowwwwwww —

Well, while he’s out being quick and clever, everyone else has come back from a hypothetical future where they had time and therapy and distance and were able to look back and see everything that went wrong and wish to make amends with everyone they lost along the way. And they’ve gotten their wishes! Tommy is trying to be a better friend to Tubbo, Tubbo is trying to not be such an enabler, Quackity is looking at Las Nevadas and trying to strike a balance between love and safety (and is still kind of at a loss on how to do it), Sam is — still kind of the same, but he’s recognized that he’s not infallible and that’s a step, the wall has cracked, and that’s huge for him. He’s reached out to Ponk already — and Ponk missed him, too, even if he’s wary due to the whole lost-an-arm thing. (They’re not together again yet, but they’re talking. Quietly, carefully, testing the waters.) Dream, as per usual, did not have this revelation. He doesn’t need it: he already wants his family back, even if he’s forgotten that that’s his reason for doing everything he’s doing.

And right now, Dream is out for blood.

Well, maybe not blood. Daedalus happened: he and Sam are even, they’ve put it behind them, they have. He and Quackity aren’t there yet but he has plans, even if he’s not — not sure what he wants yet. How do you get even with torture? An eye for an eye — what could he take? What does he want to take? (Mostly he just wants to take that control back. He was tortured daily. He screamed, he cried, he begged. He was forced to lick his boots, to say things he didn’t want to say, to call him “Sir”. He wants to stop feeling so wracked with humiliation, to stop feeling sick. He wants to feel like he can look people in the eye again.) Either way, he’s out for something. He’s restless and angry and frightened. And everyone is on the lookout right now because even if they don’t quite get what he’s after, they DO understand that there’s nothing more dangerous than an animal that feels as though it’s been caught in a trap. (The prison destroyed Dream. They all remember this, even if many of them don’t know why.)

Sapnap is still on the hunt, but now he’s replaced his initial goal of Murder with one to Imprison. Dream is dangerous, but Sapnap missed him so, so badly and if there’s any chance that he can get his brother back now that he’s been given this gift — he’s gonna take it. And he’s assertive enough to recruit others into his plot.

ohhhhhh interesting!!! sapnap gets some time in the spotlight!!!! i’ve seen your other asks about your amendments to this AU. but for specifically this one we’d have the same thing as time travel au but with the travel back in time being less far? to the point where dream has already found sam back in prison,, but hasn’t had his revenge on quackity yet

(discussion below, despite the changes)

🦙🦙🦙…

it’s interesting to have an AU were dream is more mentally scarred than physically. like he’s escaped prison and managed to find his way to punz i assume? who has patched him up and helped him heal. and then the plot would continue as normal with the canon stuff,, with sam being chucked into prison and dream finding him, talking to him, killing him, getting the prison to himself. only it’s then at some point after sam is released that the time skip happens? and instead of all of them straight away worrying about dream, they worry about their relationships with other server members first

… except for sapnap. sapnap’s newfound perspective has inspired him to extend the olive branch out to dream, and the nature of his once murderous manhunt flips to a far more friendly one. he realises that dream needs help, not isolation. he wants to be that help

dream of course is unaware of his change of heart, and is still actively planning out ways to get back at quackity (sapnap’s fiancé) with punz (sapnap’s brother). interesting dynamics here :O i know your other ask has amendments but i thought i’d still discuss this one anyway

🦙🦙🦙…

#llama asks #soup the destroyer #Soups Demolition AU

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mysterythief · 27 days ago

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Anakin’s brain was trying to break through his eyes. He could feel the pressure pounding against his skin with each step he took away from his barracks.

His latest campaign at Akiva had been brutal. He and Rex had been awake for 82 hours, trying to stay on top of the constant flood of droids coming from the factory while they waited for Ahsoka and her team to shut it down.

Anakin hated to admit it, but he had taken some nasty blows throughout the campaign. A droideka had gotten a lucky shot in when Anakin was surrounded and blasted him in the back of his left leg (which consequently lead to him falling on his face and breaking his nose), a tactical droid managed to get the company into a trap where droids dropped boulders onto them (Anakin did manage to stop most of them, so the company came out alright, but he missed the one that hit him and Rex on the head. He did sleep for about 10 minutes after that, so that was a plus), and a stupid commando droid managed to shoot through his right arm, killing some of the wires connected to his nerves. He could feel jolts of electricity run up his arm whenever the dead ends accidentally hit each other, and he was unable to fully open or close his hand. And forget about his ring and pinky finger, they were absolutely fried. The surgery would take a day to repair the damage. Time Anakin didn’t have.

Kix was arguing with him even now as he and Anakin walked out of the barracks after they had carried Ahsoka and Rex into the bunks to rest and recover. Poor Snips had taken a nasty cut on her arm from Ventress and had inhaled far too much smoke from being caught in the factory after setting it on fire. It should have been him. He was her master after all. He should be able to protector her. And Rex was barely conscious after being awake for so long and taking that boulder to the head…and breaking his arm after tackling the droideka that had shot Anakin. They both deserved a couples days rest and some time in the bacta tank.

Anakin began removed the bandages from his head, right arm, and leg as Kix continued to scold him.

“Sir, this is insane! You’re clearly injured! Now is when you go to the med bay, NOT A COUNCIL MEETING!!”

“Relax Kix. I’m standing up and moving around. Which, in my book, is a win.” Anakin tried to give Kix his most convincing swagger smile. The one that typically managed to hide of all his pain.

Unfortunately, Kix knew him too well. And he had been there when the boulder had dropped on Anakin.

“Sir… with all due respect, you are a KRIFFIN IDIOT! You have a concussion, your right arm is in shambles and can’t hold a thing, you’ve lost a lot of blood from your left leg, which you are STILL limping on. And I’m fairly certain you have multiple broken ribs as well, but you woln’t sit still long enough to allow me to examine you!” Kix listed off with big dramatic gestures as he screamed whispered to Anakin.

“Yes. Yes. Yes. And probably true, but I don’t have time to figure that out right now Kix. If I’m late for one more council meeting, Mace is going to have my head. And if I walk fast enough, I’ll be there right on time! More or less…” Anakin whispered argued back.

“Sir, I’m sure you being in the med bay is a very valid reason to not be at the council meeting.” Kix had stopped and was looking at Anakin with concern.

Normally Kix, as the company medic, could overrule Anakin’s command. However, Anakin wasn’t in command at this moment. He was just a soldier reporting in, so Kix technically couldn’t stop him.

“Somebody has to inform the council of what happened on Akiva, and Ahsoka and Rex are both down. That leaves me.” Anakin hesitated a moment, looking at Kix’s concerned face, and knowing that Rex would yell at him the moment he woke up and found out Anakin hadn’t gone right to the med bay. He did have good men who cared about him. “But I promise that I’ll go to med bay immediately after the council meeting.” Anakin conceded.

Kix nodded his head, agreeing to the terms. “If you’re not there by 0300, I’m sending a squad to find you sir.”

“Fair enough.” Anakin held his left hand out in fairwell as he walked (limped) towards the council chambers.

***

Skywalker was late. Again.

True, his company had just arrived back from Akiva the hour before, but where other Jedi would immediately report in after a mission, Skywalker had a tendency to dillydally with his men afterwards.

Mace had hopped that after his last talk with Anakin that he would take these council meetings more seriously. Clearly that hope was in vain.

Mace turned to his friend and head of the Jedi Council, “We should begin the meeting Master Yoda. There are many important things to discuss with or without Skywalker’s report.”

“Indeed. Start, we should. Much to discuss, there is. Master Kenobi, faith, in Skywalker, you have?”

“I promise you, Anakin will be here Master,” Obi Wan said reassuringly, though he looked ready to sigh at his old apprentices antics.

“Very well. Begin, you will Master Mundi. Anxious, to hear about the Wookiees, I am.”

Anakin Skywalker quite literally stumbled into the council chambers partway through Master Mundi’s report. His shirt was rumpled, and his right arm was stained by some liquid.

“Apopoligies Masters,” he stated as he attempted an awkward bow with his left hand, his right hanging limply, and hobbled to side of the chambers.

Great, Mace thought, not only was Skywalker late, but he was drunk and had wine on his sleeves. It would have been better for him to not report at all, than to come in this state. Mace would have to have another talk with him later.

***

Obi Wan raised a quizzical eyebrow at Anakin and directed his gaze to his right arm, which was clearly leaking fluid. ‘Are you alright? Shouldn’t you be in med bay?’ His gaze asked.

‘I’m fine.’ Anakin’s glance replied, as he attempted to hide his right hand. Though he jolted slightly upon moving it.

‘If you’re fine, then why are you late? And why is your arm clearly broken? And you’ve done something to your leg that you’re limping. Kix really let you go like this?’ Obi Wan’s worry frown settled on his brow as his glaze slide over his old Padawan, checking if anything else was wrong or broken. He really should have had something stronger to drink before dealing with this.

‘I’m here aren’t I?’ Anakin’s shrug was his only response as he began purposefully ignoring his Master’s concerned gaze.

Definitely should have had something stronger to drink, Obi Wan thought.

***

Stay awake Anakin. You can do this, just STAY AWAKE!

His head was pounding through his skull with full force. He had managed to deflect Kix and Obi Wan, but Anakin was seriously ready to topple over. It was taking every ounce of his willpower just to stay upright. He hadn’t even noticed that his arm was leaking fluid again until Obi Wan had pointed it out. Hopefully he had moved his arm soon enough that no one else had notice the stain. Or that his whole body was jittering every now and again as random wires connected and sent jolts through his nervous system.

He just had to stay awake through this meeting, then he would make good on his promise to Kix and go to med bay.

Just stay awake.

***

“Skywalker, we’re ready for your report now” Mace stated. It was now 0400. The council had gone through 5 other reports that had taken 2 hours (though there was a little commotion outside the halls at 0300 that the temple guards had handled) and were ready to hear about the campaign on Akiva.

“Skywalker?” he questioned again when there was no response from the young knight.

“Anakin,” Obi Wan’s anxiety caught in his normally calm tone.

“Yes Masder. Sorri Masder,” the young man jolted at the sound of Obi Wan’s voice, though his whole body shook. “I was…loss in thougd.”

“Anakin… maybe you should,” Obi Wan began as he started to stand.

“Give my repord. Yes, yes I sould,” Anakin interjected. Glaring at Obi Wan as he wobbled to the center of the floor, even though it was clear as day to Mace that Anakin was drunk and Obi Wan was just trying to save some face.

Anakin shuttered as he began speaking, trying to hide his right arm behind him:

“The campin on Akia dook a few durnds, bud in the ened, we manade do brind don de droid faccori. Dis will allo…” Anakin’s left leg suddenly gave out from under him as his whole body shuttered again, flinging him forward.

“Anakin!” Obi Wan yelled, as he flung himself from his chair, barely managing to catch Anakin before his face hit into the marbled floor.

“Medic! I need a Medic NOW!!” Obi Wan uncharacteristically shouted out the doors of the council chamber.

“YOU SEE!!! THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU DON’T LISTEN TO THE DAMN MEDIC!!!” A clone medic wearing the colors of the 501 burst into the council chamber a stretcher, bandages, and some bacta patches at the ready, the temple guards standing in shock behind him.

“General Fisto, please hold General Skywalkers left leg steady. General Kenobi, please wrap this bandaged around his leg before it starts bleeding through again. I need to wrap these wires around his hand so he stops shocking his whole system until we can get him into surgery,” Kix said jumping into action.

“Kix?! Kix?! What happened? Why did he come here instead of med bay? How badly injured is he?” Obi Wan rapidly questioned as he wrapped Anakin’s leg. He could see that he had reopened a blaster wound and it was starting to bleed again.

“General Skywalker insisted that he had to be to the council meeting to report on the mission since Commander Tano and Captain Rex are both badly injured as well General Kenobi. You know how the General gets when he sets his mind to something.

I told him he had to be at med bay by 0300 or I’d send a squad after him. Well, he wasn’t in med bay at 0300 so the boys and I came looking for him, but these guards would let us in.” Kix talked fast as he wrapped Anakin’s right hand which had wires sticking out from every angle and fluid leaking from the gaping hole in his arm.

Mace finally noticed the 3 other clone troopers in 501 armor helping get supplies and the stretcher in place and immediately felt overwhelming guilty.

He had assumed the worst of Skywalker, believing him to be drunk, when in reality he was seriously injured. Enough so that it was amazing he had stay standing as long as he had.

“Rest, you should Skywalker. Your health, more important than the report, it is.” Master Yoda said as he walked over to the commotion, where a barely awake Skywalker lay.

“Yes, Masder.”

“Give the report, one of your men can, I’m sure.” Yoda continued. “Heal, you will.”

Obi Wan and Kit Fisto helped Kix and one of the clones lift Anakin carefully onto the stretcher.

“Appo and Fives, can you deliver the report to the council in Anakin’s place?” Obi Wan requested.

“Yes, sir!” The two clones saluted. Then both gently touched to stretcher where Anakin was laying. “Take care of yourself sir.”

��Master, I’d like to request permission to accompany Anakin to med bay.” Obi Wan asked Master Yoda.

“Go, you may. Run away from the medic, ensure he doesn’t,” Yoda gently laughed.

Mace grabbed Anakin’s left hand before Kix and Kenobi pulled him away on the stretcher. “Next time young Skywalker, go to med bay,” he counseled.

Anakin attempted to laugh as he was carted away. “If you insisd.”

Maybe it was alright for Skywalker to miss council meeting sometimes after all.

How many times do you think Anakin arrived a meeting, a call, or honestly anything important for his job swinging and stumbling and speaking weirdly, so everyone would just glare at him like "Showing up drunk is worse than not showing up at all", only for it to be that he's actually with a severe concussion; or dizzy from blood loss, or oxygen isn't reaching his brain or literally anything but drunk; in fact , Obi-Wan wishes he was drunk.

#did someone ask for whump?#ask and I will deliver #sometimes #maybe #if I feel like it #star wars #star wars the clone wars #anakin skywalker #anakin and obi wan #whump #star wars fanfiction #mysterythief writes #I didn’t really edit this so please forgive any dumb errors #help me come up with a title and I’ll put it on A03

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the-friendliest-freak · 2 years ago

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Adding onto this post (the one where The Narrator, instead of initiating a rivalry with Monika, ends up taking the DDLC girls under his wing so he can help them come to terms with being trapped in a game):

(Also disclaimer I haven’t been into DDLC in a while this may or may not be accurate pls don’t kill me)

(Second disclaimer cuz I’m gonna be paranoid if I don’t say it: these are all strictly PLATONIC. No romance here.)

They all mostly stay in the Apartment or The Memory Zone since they’re the closest things The Narrator has to domestic settings on-hand

The Narrator eventually learns about each of the girls’ personal issues and takes to trying his best to help (not bc he cares or anything. No he hasn’t gotten attached. No he absolutely doesn’t catch himself nearly calling them his kids)

Monika and him tend to have “training sessions” where they’ll see how far Monika’s powers go. It starts with simple stuff, like changing the texture file of an objet.

(TW SELF HARM) He teaches Yuri this technique he heard of where you write on your arms instead of cutting, and while it does take a while, along with some additional help, they do start seeing improvements. He encourages her to perhaps write any ideas she has for poems on there if she’s ever feeling the urge.

Sayori, Monika, and The Narrator usually have a few chats about how to deal with Sayori’s possible and growing awareness of the fourth wall. They have these conversations in calmer areas of the office, like the Memory Zone or the Zending room (with the door leading to the stair room closed).

Natsuki, for obvious reasons (cough cough shitty dad cough), distances herself from The Narrator quite a bit. Eventually, concerned about her getting lost in the office, he finds her reading manga alone in the Employee Lounge. He has an idea, and asks her what she’s reading, and “why are the speech bubbles the wrong way around?”. Natsuki - appropriately shocked, stunned, absolutely bamboozled - that he has never been blessed with the knowledge and experience of manga, proceeds to excitedly tell him about it.

The Narrator knows what manga is. Yes, he’s very proud of himself for being so conniving and tricking her into sharing her interests so that she may grow comfortable in this stressful new environment. How utterly mischievous.

Sayori wrote a poem about the Memory Zone once and The Narrator did not cry about it, he swears, how could you ever reach that conclusion-

Monika plays the piano in the Boss’ Office, usually after the aforementioned training sessions.

Yuri really enjoys hearing about the more surreal and scary aspects of the office, and The Narrator’s usually on the lookout for new weird shit to show her.

Yuri: “I wrote a poem about a man who realises he murdered his wife by examining a gas station puddle too closely.” The Narrator, with genuine joy: “Amazing. Tell me everything about it.”

Sayori really likes the more humorous moments. She likes the Line™️ the most. The Narrator doesn’t get it but he’ll allow her to play with It™️ since it makes her happy (not that he cares, don’t get the wrong impression)

The Narrator and Yuri bond a bit over their shared intense desire to be liked by others. They have a lot of talks about it, usually on the shores of The Memory Zone, since she finds the water calming.

Running out of things to keep them occupied with, The Narrator once hid the Figleys around the office again and challenged Natsuki to find em all (since he figured she’d be unable to say no to such a challenge). When she did, he said he was proud of her. Natsuki may or may not have cried.

It was either Sayori or Monika to first call him dad - in Monika’s case it was probably sarcastic, and in Sayori’s it was an accident. Either way the Narrator nearly had a heart attack.

Natsuki once sarcastically called him “gramps” and he choked on his tea

During a moment of combined stress, frustration, and confusion, Monika may have altered one of The Narrator’s personality files, as she did with the rest. She changed it back shortly after once she’d realised what she’d done. He assured her he wasn’t mad, told her to not leave the room, then went to the Starry Room to recover for half an hour. (If you’re wondering which file - it was derealisation).

Whilst he feels more impacted by Yuri’s darker poems or Monika’s due to them covering experiences he gets, he does still like Sayori’s and Natsuki’s (he really enjoys reading their poems and sharing them. He loves this shit, man. He showed Natsuki his poem about the little dogs and little frogs from the DOTA 2 Announcer pack and she liked it)

All The Narrator has to do is speak in one of his sillier voices and Sayori’s in stitches. He likes how easy it is to make her laugh.

The Curator is incredibly critical of The Narrator’s choice. “How can you protect them if you can barely protect yourself?” Is a question she asks him very often.

Long story short The Narrator loves appreciates the company of his weird new daughters acquaintances

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evilminji · 2 years ago

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It takes a few days for the thought to crystallize, past the unsteadiness of shock. For his normally brilliant mind to start making connections again. Chaotic. Fae-like. His... His Father was unchanged. A man forever trapped in time, yet free from that terrible alleyway in a way Bruce still isn't. But the CHILD?

It brings to mind the old tales of changeling. Fae children left where human children were taken from. Or perhaps, like cuckoo birds, fae children who steal a human child's place. It was... It was seeing himself replaced. His father laughing, playing, unknowing in his adoration of what he believed was his son. The child in Bruce had screamed in horror.

The man in Bruce knows his Father is not unknowing.

At least... he desperately hopes so. It is impossible to tell yet what the ghost of Thomas Wayne is actually SEEING. The world as it is? As it was? Something else, beyond Bruce's human sight? He'll need Constantine's help. Everything in him is trying to fight calling him.

It takes all his strength just to say the words out loud. To ask Clark for help, all the way over in Metropolis City, but Bruce... he can't. He can't. He searches the city for signs of his Mother. Like everyone else looking finds nothing. Was she not worthy of a return? Did she not earn some impossible goodbye?

What God would separate his parents? Would cruelly tear them from each other's arms? Is his Father looking for her? For him? He found him. Is it now his wife he searches the streets for? Imagining her around the next street corner, some function or charity, a dear friends house for a chat?

Or was he pulled back by the Fae Child. Yanked from his rightful sleep, to play house, by the willful demands of a magically powerful child? Did he stand above his grave and wonder where he was? One moment trying desperately to protect his family, the next a graveyard? The world changed. The endless questions haunt Bruce.

Ha. "Haunt". He's begun to hate that word. Trapped. His Father isn't "haunting" anything. His Father has been TRAPPED by this city and a child that Shape-shifts like water flows. Has Gotham not asked enough from his parents? Did they not already pay, for the crime of caring, in blood? Behind him Damian is less practicing his stances, as he is wrathfully hacking away at a training dummy.

Bruce continues to type at the bat-computer, gives him his privacy as he works through his emotions. The disrespect to his grandfather's spirit. The lose and hurt he is feeling. Damian has never gotten to even meet Thomas Wayne. Known him only as stories and other people's memories. Paintings upon walls. Old journals.

Beautiful but empty things.

The spaces outlining where a man once stood. A great man. A kind one. One who would have loved him fiercely and been endlessly proud to call him his grandson. One he now sees played a puppet along the filthy streets he died on. Sees at the mercy of forces unknown, to ends unknowable.

Who sees it hurting his family.

Alfred is nearly a ghost himself these days. He has caught him staring at his parent's portrait so many times. A truly lost expression on the man's face. When he had thought it a hoax he had been offended but now that it... it is likely REAL? There were so many things left unsaid. Things they wished they could share with his parents.

It is grief ripped anew.

His Father... He had told him he had done a good job. The look on his face excited and melancholy like he was remembering the escapades of Bruce's youth. When mastering something meant then turning around to show off to his parent's. Was he proud? Is he?

Bruce is afraid to ask. Afraid to know.

But he will not let his Father be trapped in the city that killed him. Cursed to wander the city of curses. For all he loved this city, Thomas Wayne earned a peaceful rest. Deserved to sleep along side the wife who he loves and loves him more than anything but their son. To dream of dancing and stars and peaceful afternoons, in whatever comes after. Not this. His Father does not deserve this. And Bruce?

He is going to make this right.

@joaniejustwokeup @little-pondhead @stealingyourbones @cyrwrites

After moving to Gotham and having to deal with a stressful job, Danny has started taking walks around the city as a way to destress.

Since he knows that he could get mugged, he just becomes intangible and invisible while listening to some loud music on his phone.

Unfortunately for him, his control on his Invisibility keeps slipping when he gets lost in his music, and the people of Gotham keep seeing a semi-translucent ghost man walking around at night aimlessly.

Some thugs think it’s just a meta with invisibility and try to mug him, but pass right through and he disappears completely. This convinces them that he is a ghost, since having both invisibility, and intangibility would be too big a coincidence. Not to mention he never reacts to them whatsoever.

The Bat’s get word that a Ghost has been stalking the streets of Gotham, and he looks scarily like Bruce Wayne from the little they have been able to see from him. Now Batman thinks his dad may have come back as a ghost.

Danny is oblivious to all of this. He just likes his nightly strolls.

#danny phantom #DPxDC #dc x dp prompt #dc x dp

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queen-of-deans-booty · 2 years ago

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We Need To Talk About Kevin: Part Two

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, smut

Author’s Note: Welcome to the first episode of season 8! I can’t believe I’ve been doing this for almost eight years 😭 I hope you all enjoy ♥️

I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated.

Eight Months Into Purgatory

How long has it been? You lost count how many times the sun has risen, and even if you were keeping count, you knew it would be a long time since you first arrived. You still haven't found Castiel; it's almost like he is actively avoiding you because of some reason you don't know. Still, that doesn't stop you from looking for him because he deserves to come home as much as you and Dean do.

You've been searching day in and day out, but you're tired from it all. All you want to do is stop and rest for the night. You've been fighting off every single monster you could find, but where does a monster go when you kill it in Purgatory? Does it die and come right back a few moments later? You never stick around long enough to find out, but you know you need to stop for the night or else you'll go crazy.

"Okay, I am stopping for the night," you pant and rest against the trunk of a tree.

"We need to keep moving," Benny argues.

"We haven't stopped for weeks, Benny. You might have super stamina, but we're human. We need a break. Now, you two can go off and be fucking heroes but I'm staying here."

"She's right, man," Dean backs you up.

"Fine, I guess we're stopping."

You two walk a few more yards when you see a clearing. In this clearing is a small cave enough to fit a few people. Benny doesn't want to rest, but he will give the cave to you and Dean to sleep in.

"I'll stay out here, I guess. Keep watch," Benny says, not sure what else he can do.

"Benny, I'm grateful for everything you have done for Dean and I, but this is the first time in months that I am getting a moment alone with my husband. I am taking it whether you're here or not."

"There are monsters everywhere, Y/N, with a more sensitive nose than I have. They will smell you and hear you. They will come for you."

"They can try," you smirk, flashing your eyes blue.

You take your husband into the cave and turn to the outside of it, putting your hands up. Your magic stems from your palms and forms a forcefield around the entrance so that nothing can penetrate it. It's thick enough so that Benny can't see inside, and it's also soundproof so that no one will be able to hear you. With this protection in place, you turn to Dean with a slight frown.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"I'm just worried about Joanna. It's been so long since I've held her. I'm worried about what she and Sam have gotten up to back home."

Dean takes you into his arms as he takes a seat on a chair-shaped rock. It's not exactly in the shape of a chair, but there is a long smooth side that is big enough for you to comfortably sit on it.

"I have to believe that she is okay because if I'm being honest, you and her are the only things keeping me going right now."

You look up and stare into his bright green eyes. Even in Purgatory, they look as green as they did from the moment you first laid your eyes on them.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

It was supposed to be a simple kiss. It was supposed to be a comfort kiss. However, the second your lips touched his, all rational thought flew out the window. You swing your left leg over his lap, settling over his hardening cock that's trapped in its denim prison. He slides his hands over your hips and up your shirt, wanting to feel your skin now rather than later. You slip off your shirt and unhook your bra, throwing both articles of clothing off to the side.

Dean moves his lips from your own down to your jaw and then to your neck, pulling you in close. His lips tug and bite at your already heated skin, and you throw your head back in ecstasy.

"It's been too damn long since we've done this," you breathe heavily.

Dean moans and presses kisses down to your chest, taking one bud into his mouth.

"Fuck," you whisper.

It's been too long since you've had him like this, you don't want to waste any more time than you have to. It's been so long that you don't need foreplay. You feel like you're ready to come just with his mouth over your right nipple.

"Please, Dean, it's been too long," you beg.

Clothes peel off like old skin trying to shed from its new body. Two hearts beat as one the longer you spend pressed against his bare body. His lips are cool against your heated skin, yet they ignite the fire within you.

"Fuck, I'm not going to last long."

Much like the last time it happened, you didn't see his mouth move when he spoke. You're hearing his thoughts as your bodies connect as one.

"I can hear your thoughts, Dean," you pant, holding onto his body so you don't fall back and ruin this moment.

"What?"

"I can hear what you're thinking. I guess it's a new side to my magic."

"That's so fucking hot."

You grin and kiss him as you begin to move, sliding your pussy further down onto him. He holds your hips in a tight grip as he plants his feet on the ground, and he starts fucking up into you like his life depends on it. You toss your head back and let out a louder moan than you hoped to let you. You were confident about your forcefield that you put at the entrance to the cave, but you don't really know that it's soundproof. Poor Benny if he has to hear this, but you don't care at the moment.

"Shit! Dean! You're going to make me come!" you warn.

He pounds into you at a fast rate, and your mouth forms a perfect 'o' but no noise comes out. The pleasure is too great to even think about. His pace is relentless, and he shows no sign of slowing down.

"Fuck! Dean!" you cry.

"That's right, are you close, baby?"

"So fucking close," you whimper.

"You want me to fill you up? Put a baby in you?" You're shocked at his words, but you couldn't care less in this moment whether he comes in you or not. It's not like you have condoms here. He may have said this in the moment too, but you love it. "Come for me, sweetheart."

It's as if your body is his own, and you crash down on him in a fit of moans. Your release covers his cock, and that initiates his own orgasm. You milk him for everything he's worth until there is nothing else to take. You go limp against his body, and he happily holds you there until you decide that you want to move. You love that after sex, you can hold him inside your pussy for as long as you'd like. You like the feeling of holding him there, and it keeps your mixed orgasms from leaking out of you.

"Fuck, I miss this," you sigh happily.

"Can you really read thoughts?" he asks, his mind finally catching up to what you said earlier.

"Yeah, you think it's hot."

"Damn right I do," he chuckles.

I love you.

"I love you too, Dean," you smile, closing your eyes in content.

Ten Months Into Purgatory

You didn't know this was going to happen, but at the same time, you knew it would. Ever since your passionate night with Dean in that cave, you've been throwing up every single day at the same exact time. At first, you thought you were sick from the disease and filth that this place has to offer, but when it went on for another week, and then another three weeks, you knew it was something else entirely.

"Wait, I need to stop," you say and pause in your step.

Benny, Dean, and Castiel all stop to look at you. Benny knows what's coming, and before Dean could think about it some more, you bent over and threw up everything you ate. Ever since you found Castiel, there have been more and more monsters after you. It's like they know there is an angel here, so all they want to do is kill you.

"Why do you keep throwing up?" Dean asks. He's so clueless sometimes. "You should really get checked out."

"Yeah, Dean, let me just stop at the Urgent Care right around the corner," you say sarcastically and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

"I'm serious. Cas, do something."

"My powers are diminished here."

"The last time this happened, I was pregnant," you reveal, standing up straight and placing a hand over your stomach.

"Are you kidding me?" Dean asks. "I got you pregnant in fucking Purgatory?"

"We did say if it happens, it happens," you shrug.

"Yeah, but in Purgatory?"

"Well, we can't know for sure, but if my stomach tightens and I start growing in a few months, I guess we'll know. Though, I know we have to escape as soon as possible. There's no way I'm giving birth here."

"Let's go before more monsters show up," Benny says, leading the group once more.

Wanna get tagged? Add yourself to this document! If your tag doesn’t work, find out why! Follow my library blog @queenofdeansbooty-writes where I reblog all my stories, so you can follow that if you can’t be tagged!

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aetheternity · 3 years ago

Text

My wifey, my best friend

Synopsis: Draken knew two things in his life for sure. One, that his best friend was a virgin and two, that he had a thing for his best girl. So he decides to kill two birds with one stone.

Disclaimer: Fem reader, Unprotected sex, kinda not really a threesome, Oral sex (m recieving), and voyeurism are all present in this. (Minors dni)

It wasn’t hard to see. Draken’s girl had always been a sight for every man’s eyes. Even before they’d gotten together. She got attention for the way she presented herself, her face, her body and overall just how chill of a person she was. Because while she looked mean (and honestly she could be at times). She was always ready to defend anyone in her squad.

And very often that meant Mikey. Which Draken had always been thankful for seeing as once he had the help he didn’t know how he’d done it by himself for so long. But he didn’t miss how much quicker his girlfriend got violent when it came to Mikey and vise versa. Didn't miss the prolonged smiling between them or the way they were somehow always touching.

Didn’t matter how much she’d deny it when he’d call her out. Her eye roll adorable despite the clear deception behind her words. The flush of her cheeks, dilated pupils and nervous laughter all giving her away. She wasn’t just into Draken.

She was into Mikey too. She just didn’t seem to see what he saw.

At first it had been a bit of a sore subject filling his brain. His girl and his friend had the same feelings for each other? Well he knew you wouldn’t cheat on him, you’d always been such a sappy romantic. Crying over love stories you’d read online and forcing him to watch movies that were far too long for just a stupid kiss at the end.

And he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Mikey wasn’t a concern. But every time he saw you two together it seemed as though you’d gotten even closer than the last time. Which eventually became the basis for a plan.

“Hey.” Draken’s braid hung down the back of your couch as he called to you where you stood in the kitchen filling a big bowl with an assortment of chips and popcorn.

“Hey.” You mimic his deep voice with a giggle coming over and setting the bowl in his lap.

“Did you have fun with Mikey today?” He asked pressing a light kiss to your forehead.

“Yup. Me, Mikey, and Emma had a lovely day out today.” You tossed a kernel of popcorn into your mouth with a snicker.

“Don’t be like that. You know I’m not asking because I'm jealous.” His hair tickled the side of your face as he leaned in closer brushing stray strands of hair back from your cheeks.

“No no, I know Ken Ken.”

His breath flushed over your cheeks and nose when you met his eyes. You brushed your fingertips up the side of his head to trace his tattoo. His hands meeting your waist, fingers threading over the small of your back while he kissed you. And you returned the affection with every bit of eagerness that flooded your body.

“What do you have going on Saturday?” He asked as he pulled away

Your smile was warm, eyes practically twinkling as you said, “I don’t know whatever you’re doing I guess.”

“You, me, Mikey, Mario Kart.” He suggests

“That sounds so fun.” You place a kernel of popcorn on his tongue before turning to flip on the movie pulled up on the DVD player.

“What is this?” Draken grumbled over the snack in his mouth. His demeanor quickly shifting.

“I told you I was finally gonna show you The Notebook tonight.” You replied and Draken resisted his urge to groan as you cuddled up to his side fishing a couple chips out of the bowl still in his lap.

~~~~

Saturday morning Draken had arrived at your house at eleven am. He’d set everything up. You thought Mikey was coming at one but Draken had told him eleven knowing that he probably wouldn’t actually get there till twelve.

He’d helped you carry the bulky consoles and teased you all morning just so he could get you here. Right now at 11:45 am, your ass pressed between his bare thighs, socked feet tickling his bare knees, with your panties hanging off one foot as you worked your body up and down his length. The steady claps of your skin meeting creating a beautiful noise that bounced off the drab paint job in your living room.

His name left your lips with a chorus of pleas. Pleas for his attention to your clit. Pleas for his thrusts to be harder. All greedy and messy while you gripped his shoulders tight for some form of stability.

“Come on Darling, you can do it.” He replies thickly, the fingers he has sinking into the smooth flesh of your back hurt but the tighter it gets the more he’s enjoying it. “You’re doing so well.” He groans

He slips a hand under your tee shirt looking for a better angle. His thighs spread and just for a couple seconds he indulges his good girl a little more. Feeds into your anxious cries as you whine about needing your orgasm so bad. Cock brushing against your cervix while you greedily weep for more.

“Take it then.” He tells you breathily, head tilted back to show off the bob of his adam’s apple. His groans a little deeper as you work him up so close. Cunt squeezing so perfectly around him. Strands of his hair stuck to his forehead from the accumulation of sweat. “I want you to make yourself cum, Darling.”

Your fingers twist into his shirt at every slam of his hips. Wandering hands drifting up to cup your breasts through your bra before coming back down to your hips.

You clearly can’t hear it. Too lost in bliss but the subtle click of the door opening and closing isn’t lost on Draken at all. He never stops feeding you his cock though. Not as the taps of footsteps get louder, not as the pounding in his chest gets a little harder and not even when Mikey is standing right in front of the two of you.

“Name, Ken ch-”

Mikey freezes and your eyes fly open thrashing around to grab the blanket at the end of the couch to cover your lower half. “Oh my god Mikey!” Mikey stays quiet though his eyes grow dark, lips parted as he stares at the two of you. “Mikey, I thought you weren’t coming till one..” You huff, hand over your forehead and eyelids as you clutch the blanket a little tighter with one hand.

“Are you saying you’re upset that he’s here early?” Two sets of eyes fall on Draken. He has yet to let go of your hips as you sit in his lap still fully seated on his dick with his best friend standing only a couple feet away.

“Not this again Ken..” Your words drift away as the palm of his thumb slips beneath the blanket to slide smoothly over your swollen clit. Surprisingly Mikey doesn’t make a move to leave. Feet seemingly stuck in their current position.

He leans toward your ear though it's still loud enough for Mikey to hear. “Are you trying to tell me you didn’t squeeze my cock when Mikey walked in? Are you saying you don't like his eyes on you while I make you a mess?”

“Wha.. Ke-” A breathy gasp leaves your lips.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Mikey finally finds his voice though it lacks the malice he usual manages to possess.

"You might as well stay while we finish. She's almost done."

Draken spreads your thighs with one arm pulling one of your ankles up till it’s resting partially against his shoulder and partially against the back of the couch. Slowly but surely the blanket begins to slip off your lower half exposing you slightly to Mikey. With your other leg resting against his; he thrust into you so deep that it creates a noticeable bulge in your stomach for just a split second.

A couple whimpers flutter off your lips and you try to slightly steady yourself as Draken guides his length into you without even the slightest hesitation. The couch shudders with loud creaks as if it's protesting the rough pace Draken has set never taking his eyes off a still shocked Mikey.

"Have you ever thought of fucking her like this?" Draken asks his voice husky and thick over your moans.

You're almost unabashed in the way you look over to Mikey with tears welling against the corners of your eyes. Thigh tensing with every rough pound of Draken's hips.

"K-ken.." You try only to gasp. It makes Mikey's hand fly to his tee shirt trying his best to cover what was so obviously growing right before you and Draken's eyes.

"I want to watch as Mikey fucks you." Draken finally admits. "Would you want that darling? Want Mikey to pound your pretty pussy like I always do?"

"Mm close.." You cry, lips trembling and wet as you throw your head back. Your fingers twist in Draken's shirt, leg twitching awkwardly by his head.

Mikey's lips hang open. His breathing raspy as your whole body tremors. You lean forward in Draken's grasp pushing him even deeper inside you as you cry over and over, "M' cumming K-ken.."

Draken lets his head fall back against the couch as you milk him while you're trapped in your own euphoria. His dick twitching through the intense groans you pull from his chest. When he's finished he places a gentle hand on your stomach.

"Will you take care of Mikey now?" He lifts your body off of him, placing you next to him.

"You want me to fuck your girlfriend? Have you lost it?" Mikey asks, cheeks stained a bright pink.

"Yeah, I'm giving you permission to show, Name a good time while I watch."

Mikey looks over to you. Slowly but surely you extend your hand to him looking at Draken for any bit of hesitation on his part. He hesitants and then his sandals are clicking against the hardwood as Draken motions for him to get between your legs. Mikey's eyes wide with attention as he stares down at you, hands stiff at his sides.

You look to Draken again who's pulled off his shirt by this point; laying back against the couch to rub his softened cock back to life. "Kiss him." Draken nods to Mikey who's basically stone at this point.

"C-can I?" You sit up pressing your hands to his cheeks immediately delighted by the strands of hair delicately brushing against the knuckles of your fingers.

When you lean into him, he presses forward. Hands reaching for the back of the couch for support. His lips are cold. Not at all what you'd thought they'd be. Hesitant, a little shaky and over all cute.

You couldn't help but trace the shape with your tongue. They were smaller than Draken's that part was obvious and more gentle too as though he was scared he could hurt you from just a small kiss. When you pushed him a little further coaxing his lips apart he conceded for you. With a heavy breath he slid one hand down to your face, Adam's apple bobbing where you could see it through your peripherals.

When your tongue slid into his mouth he took a deep breath cautious as you prodded forward with your tongue. And just as soon you were pulling away.

Draken added pressure to his tip with his thumb before sliding his hand back down his shaft in a smooth motion. "Take her shirt off." He instructed

Not only were Mikey's lips cold but his fingertips were also slightly cold as they slipped under your shirt with shaky hands. When you reached for Mikey's shirt Draken tsked,

"Be careful with him. He's still a virgin."

Mikey gritted his teeth in Draken's direction but ultimately said nothing. Weirdly enough that information broke the tension still present in your shoulders.

"Aw Mikey that's ok." He raised his arms as you slipped his dark blue shirt over his elbows, allowing it to join your already discarded clothes in the growing pile.

Though a part of you was slightly curious about whether or not it was by his own choice. With a bit more confidence now you slid your back up the couch a bit pulling Mikey in by the hem of his shorts. Without a second thought you reached behind your back to discard your bra bringing Mikey's free hands up to massage your breasts.

The little gasp he let out was so endearing, eyes clouded with tenderness and lust. Draken snickered at his end of the couch, "How's it feel to touch boobs for the first time?"

"Shut up." Mikey grunted

With your guidance he gingerly twisted and pulled at your taut nipples earning a sweet gasp as a reward. Meanwhile your hands curved up and down his physique, enamored by the touch his abs had just beneath your finger tips. So rough yet smooth and soft as they expanded and contracted for each of his breaths.

Not wanting to waste a second more you gestured to the band of Mikey's shorts, "Is this ok?" And once he nodded you pulled the string loose letting them fall to the ground with his boxers soon following.

Unsurprisingly he was smaller than Draken but he was thicker than you'd imagined. Pretty in both size and color with a much more rounded tip than Draken.

You looked up to Mikey's face. His attention elsewhere as you wrapped a warm hand around the base of his cock. "It's so pretty." You mumbled with a giggle when that gorgeous pink took full color against his cheeks. "I want to put it in my mouth. Can I?"

The bob of Mikey's Adam's apple didn't go unnoticed by you. The way sweat was already starting to appear on his forehead making you smile as he silently moved his hips closer to your mouth.

The hiss that slipped past his lips when you pressed your tongue to his tip and circled it gathering the precum sliding down was precious. And it dawned on you as if you hadn't remembered before that this was Mikey's first blow job.

The famous Mikey was getting his first right here and now. It pushed you further, you left wet open mouthed kisses all over his shaft before letting every sweet inch of him into your mouth. Delicately and steadily over his shaft till you were kissing his pelvic bone.

Never in all the years you had known Mikey had you ever seen him be so cute. His mouth was open for every panting breath he could muster trying and failing to catch his breath. His cheeks an even deeper pink than before and his eyes shut impossibly tight.

He reached out for the back of the sofa as you slowly pulled your mouth back before edging him all the way down your throat again.

"Oh God.." He choked out

Draken's laugh was boisterous the hand that was on his cock now slapped over his mouth as he tried to contain himself. "Darling you can't see from this angle but his face is perfect." He grins

You know it's bad when the only response Mikey gives to this is a loud gasp. His nails digging into the cushions behind you with a heavy grunt.

Draken leaned forward twisting his fingers into your hair gently to guide your head back and forth a little faster. "You look gorgeous, keep going."

Mikey's whimpers fill your ears and spit trickles over your lips. Your tongue swirling over the prominent veins at the base of his cock as you work him up with just your mouth. Curses flying off his lips at an exponentially higher rate.

"Doesn't she have such an amazing mouth?" Draken groaned hand resuming its earlier work.

Mikey could only hum lost in bliss with each thrust of his hips. He managed to angle himself deeper down your throat, reaching out to card strands of your hair back as well as he pushes his cock as far as it could go.

"Shit.. sh-it I think I'm gonna.."

Draken pulled your lips off surprisingly harshly. Fingers still deep in your hair as he guided your thighs open for Mikey. Cum from Draken's earlier orgasm still stained your thighs as Draken pushed Mikey forward by the small of his back.

The angle was kind of weird, especially for a first time but it did help Mikey align better and slowly but surely he was pushing inside. The fill of his cock pressing inside of you left you feeling a bit dazed and your eyes fluttered close. Nails finding purchase on his shoulder blades.

His forehead soon met yours, hitched breaths from his lips flush against your face. "Shit.." He heaved almost breathless.

"Yeah she'll do that to you." Draken grinned. You couldn't tell if it was your heartbeat or his pounding in your ear but you soon regained enough consciousness to wrap your legs around his waist.

"You ok?" He asked, eyelids fluttering open.

"Yeah. Feels good." You reply with a concentrated breath.

Mikey's hand slammed down against the couch cushion as he slowly began to move sucked in by your warm cunt. Every inch of his dick snug inside you. In a way that was so different from the earlier feeling of your mouth.

"Mikey.." You huffed trying not to lose it completely whenever he bottomed out. He wasn't long enough to touch your cervix but every inch of him was so obviously present inside you. Grazing your walls like they were built just for his cock.

"Angle your hips to the right a little." You could hear Draken's voice. All deep and husky like it always got when he was in the mood.

Mikey did as he was told, adjusting his hips till his dick perfectly pressed into your g-spot. You couldn't help it now your head falling back and your thighs shaking when he thrusted right into that spot.

"God.. f-uck.." Mikey grunted

"You're doing so well.." You mewled brushing his blond hair back where it was starting to stick to his face. "It feels.. s'good.."

Your thighs tensed as he started to speed up a tremble setting in his shoulders. You already knew what that meant. Bringing a hand under his chin to pull his lips into yours. The sounds of both Mikey and Draken settling in your ears as you felt the beginnings of the coil tightening in your stomach.

"Mm gonna cum.." Mikey moaned

The feeling of his cock twitching inside of you had you gripping him like a lifeline and he did the same. His arms wrapped around your waist as he emptied himself inside your fluttering walls.

"Oh God.." You sighed

His body continued to tremble, eyes far gone as you held his face to look at him. "You ok?" You giggled, still attempting to catch your breath.

"Draken was right about your pussy." Mikey grins

"Oh my God you told the guys?!" You pick up a pillow next to you chucking it at your boyfriend.

"I only told Mikey that part." Draken replies catching the flying projectile. "Hurry up and finish. This shits getting painful."

"Finish?" You're cut off by Mikey slowly pressing all the way back inside you. "You didn't get to cum." He whispers into your ear. His knee slides onto the couch next to you, guiding your hips against his cock.

Your head banging against the cushions behind you with each of his rough thrusts. Breaths short where they're falling off your lips. You don't miss the way Mikey's eyes clench shut, the way his teeth ungrit trying and failing to keep his noises quiet.

Your once messy and now unruly and missmanaged hair slips from the tie you'd once used to hold it. Strands falling over your face and into your eyes and collecting with the sweat present on every inch of your face.

Draken's groan came from the pits of his throat as he squeezed the tip of his cock in his fist. "I'm gonna cum." He warned, warmth spread through your stomach as you watched the tensing of his body soon followed by his thick cum shooting up only to return to earth. Coating his fists in liquid.

His dark eyes shut as he breathed through his orgasm with a deep sigh.

You cursed under your breath issuing your own word of warning as your thighs clenched around Mikey's waist. "Don't stop.." You pleaded, hands heavy on Mikey's shoulders as you pulled his body closer.

"I won't."

The coil in your stomach soon settled as your release coated Mikey's pelvic region slicking his cock as you cried out. A sense of familiarity soon falling over you as you watched the same build of intensity forming in Mikey.

The roll of Mikey's eyes utterly intoxicating as his hips stuttered forward with a breathy moan for the first bit of his orgasm. Sweat trickled down his forehead, his own hair a complete mess as he released deep inside of you completely losing control of his hips.

"Fuck Mikey.."

Mikey finally pulled out leaving his cum to ooze out of your used pussy as Draken stood from the end of the couch, heading for the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" You asked

"We need chips right? For Mario kart?" Draken called

"Yay we're still playing!" Mikey bounces like he's not still completely naked and didn't just finish fucking you.

"Of course we're still playing. That was the whole point of today." Draken replies

"You don't want to shower first?" You gesture to his cum covered chest and thighs.

"Like all together?" Mikey asks

"Nevermind let's just play."

#tokyo revengers smut #mikey x reader smut #draken x reader smut #draken smut #mikey smut #draken x reader x mikey

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starshipsofstarlord · 4 years ago

Note

Can I request a Kai Parker smut

stuck in 1903

kai parker x reader / masterlist

summary; being trapped in the prison world after sacrificing yourself to protect your friends, leads to some very embarrassing and frustrating situations / warnings; kai being an annoying lil shit, mentions of death, smut, possessiveness, imprisonment,

the prison world, perhaps it would have been slightly peaceful if an entrapped witch was not following your every move like an obsessed ghost. he was relentless, stalking his threatening footsteps after your own, prowling for a manner of attention.

“if you stop this whole, ‘let’s walk in y/n’s shadow’ charade, i will have sex with you. can we pursue a deal concerning the matter?” instantly, the witch muted his movements, gripping onto the side of the aisle shelf as he studied you, searching to see if your prospectus contained serious regard.

once he had come to a conclusion, he raised his eyebrows. kai had tried his darnest to keep you contained in that house that he likened to call a home. there was something he didn’t wish for you to discover, he was keeping you isolated from everything within the empty world that his family had banished him to.

that made you think, that it was possible, that perhaps other souls had entered the enclosure of this world, and that was why you were seeking, in the hopes of providing yourself with the comfort that you weren’t alone in this cursed nation with the one, and the only, to your misfortune, kai parker.

there wasn’t much that you knew about him, he was a practical talker, rather than a personal one. he had stocks of questions about the modern world, so that he could relish in the imagery of how much it had evolved without him. a part of you pitied him, but another worried that there was a wisp of darkness that he was hiding.

you didn’t know him, he was a stranger, and that truth made him potentially dangerous. it was safe to always remain on your toes, even if he had a habit of trailing huskily after. it gave him no chance of envisioning you as a sitting duck, every day was the same, but he was the one thing that could change that.

one tip of his mindset, and he could remember that he preferred being alone. and he could kill you, piking you on a stake, despite being human, or using his siphoning hands to drain all life out of your body. this wasn’t your first rodeo with the aftermath of death; bonnie had found a way to bring you back, her power flowed through you, keeping you logically alive, to a fault that was.

parker licked his pork rind exploited lips, collecting the dust from the treat, and bringing it into the cauldron of his mouth. the man was thinking, and that idea alone scared you. however you waited for him to persevere with whatever was unravelling in his mind, although you could have easily passed him by, finding elsewhere to seek salvation.

“is there a due date for that offer, because i’d like to take you up on it right now?” a smirk curved his mouth. perhaps not every day was the same, this was certainly going to be different, that was one thing that was for sure.

he noticed how your shoulders withered from the thought; sex in a grocery store, you had never been so filthy, and despite there being nobody around to bare witness to the sin, it still had your skin crawling. hugging your arms across your chest, you sighed, giving into his slick prompt, leaning your head down out of self disrespect.

kai couldn’t be trusted, you knew that. not for the fact that his own family had sent him here, to wallow in nothing more than the loneliness of his own company. there had to be a reason! nobody’s mother nor father would do such an act for no resolving purpose.

gulping, you finally grew the guts to adjust your gaze on him, and how he tapped his foot, silently demanding a response. “i mean it kai, we have sex, and you stop trailing after me like some stray. you got that?”

he got it. his footsteps came closer to you as he backed you into a shelf along the outer wall, enclosing you against the packets of rustling pork rinds, accidentally crushing their interior contents, as you raised your chin up, obscenely glaring at the mysterious man.

“oh, i heard every word.” he held out his pinkie finger to make a promise, and sickeningly you reached your own out, shaking on it, before he rasped his hand around your wrist, pressing a kiss upon the thin flesh. leaning down, kai attached your lips, humming contently, it had been so long since he had endured the contact of another person.

with his unoccupied hand, he slithered it down your chest, dragging his knuckles down your stomach, before he reached the tender edge of your trousers. he toyed with the band, the action making you stifle any sounds of admitted likening to his teasing; if you did, then he would only continue to do so more.

it felt like forever since you had gotten laid, a large portion of you wanted kai to take you on the spot, which it looked as though that was his intent, and that he definitely would do so. but another felt sick of yourself, these were the extents that you would go to to be left alone, and there was not exactly a plan b if he didn’t.

you wanted to obtain a way out of this place, and possibly the only chance that you had of doing so was to wander away from his ever watching eyes, and strive on your own, trying to discover any evidence of life throughout this semi detached world. you felt like a cattle, being guarded by their herder, he was protecting you from anything that could daunt your mind with realisation.

it wasn’t the fact he was protective, it was more in the terms of possessiveness. though he wanted to leave, he claimed that there was no way out, he was intent on descending your hope of uncovering an escape, from not only the ghost town of your home, but from him also.

“what to first? should i just fuck you or make you blow me?” his teeth toyed with a sly smile, as though he were trying to convince you into a conflict regarding the answer. but instead of growing a fuzzy brain, you simply glared at him, pushing his fingers out from where they had slipped under the top of your bottoms, leaving the man to be a confused mess; it was kinda cute, but for all you knew, his often sublime attitude.

“i didn’t say foreplay parker, only sex was on the table. and that will be all you’re getting, unless you want me to leave you high and dry, and find another resolve to rid myself of your attached escapades of following after me like there’s a wire attached from me to you.”

“fine.” he raised his hands in a motion of surrender, chuckling lightly to himself. “i was just testing my luck, which is clear that i don’t have.” he turned, his brows going up higher on his face as he saw a variety of boxes stacked on one of the shelves. he picked one up, reading over the scripture as you scoffed.

“i don’t think your gonna need xxl, unless you’re going to cum that much since nobody has had their hands on you for a long time. you’ve had to suffice and please yourself for how long again?”

“spicy, i like it. eh, you’re right anyways.” he tossed the box down the aisle, grasping for another like a kid in the candy store, this time it was for the variety of average sized men. kai aggressively ripped the box open, causing the contents of packets to spill all over the ground.

“are you incapable of doing anything like a grown ass man?” it was irritating just watching him fail to do ordinary everyday tasks. he was destructive, and it seemed to be a large part of his personality.

“you won’t be asking that in a minute y/n/n.” he sent you a gruelling wink, making you inherently gulp, watching as he plucked a singular condom off the ground, holding it between his teeth as he began to unbuckle his belt, starting towards you.

“whatever you say kai.” rolling your eyes at his constant cockiness, you pried open your jeans, dropping your panties to the ground, as you caught kai frozen, with a slight swab of drool bathing his bottom lip. “come on, i am waiting, so hurry your ass up before i get bored of doing so.”

“you want this as much as i do, you just won’t admit it.” he lightly sneered towards you, and you felt your body flush with composed embarrassment. perhaps you had thought about the ordeal a little during the time you had been there, but there had to be some excuse! he was the only guy in a worldwide radius, that was a reasonable enough purpose.

when he was rid of apparel on his lower half, he rolled the protection onto his length, as he pinned you completely flush against the shelves of the aisle, one of his hands cupping your ass, before he helped you clamber into his arms, as he held your weight up.

you wrapped your legs expertly around his waist, biting your lip as he ran the tip of his cock against your clit, and then pushed into your walls, his moans reverberating erotically along the column of your throat, as he trailed his lips against your tender flesh.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” he uttered as he began to thrust. it had been a long time since kai had endured any physical contact, let alone like this. the siphon was relishing in it, slipping his cock in and out of your folds as though that was his lifelong purpose.

for the first time in many years, he no longer felt trapped, he had inched into a small paving of freedom, all because he was inherent not to leave you to abandon alone. you too were also caught up in the web of pleasure, you didn’t here two specific sets of footsteps enter the store, searching for the witch that had claimed that he knew of a route out of this subordinate hell.

they had survived the enduring loss of their own freedom, being sucked from the force of a collapsing vacuum into this lonesome reality. the other side had fallen, and so had their jaws, as they saw kai not only having sex, but with you, their lost friend whom had given her life to previously save them from complicated doom.

bonnie felt borderline disgusted as she watched you shut your eyes and try to bounce yourself on the man’s cock, whilst damon was specifically disappointed. your hands rasped around his shoulders, though their grip tightened as your name was called.

as you turned and saw your friends, it all suddenly made sense. from kai’s behaviour, to his lack of inclination to leave you alone, it was clear that he was hiding you from them and vice versa. “bonnie, damon!” you gasped, unsure of how you were supposed to compose yourself throughout this predicament.

“yes, bon bon, damey.” kai mocked with a roll of his eyes, as he remained still to his own dismay. “could you maybe give us five minutes, we kinda weren’t done here. just let us finish, and- ow!” you slapped the side of his face, scrambling to situate yourself out of his menacing grip.

with downturned eyes, you hastily pulled your clothes back up into place, glaring at the siphon. “you knew didn’t you? you knew that these were my friends and you purposely made sure i was distanced from them!” you growled at kai, your eyes fluttering with disregard for the imprisoned magician.

“well if i had, then you’d be less inclined to spend time with me, and this, would never have happened.” his fingers pried at pointing between the pair of you, amusedly he would say, though you would think otherwise. “welcome to 1903 baby! the world of lies and disgrace.”

“you’re the disgrace, you killed your own family, your younger siblings.” bonnie spoke, and her words made you feel physically sick. “get away from him y/n.” you followed her command, rushing over to her and damon, with shock established in your eyes. you had just fucked a sociopath.

“well, i guess that the jig is up.” he shrugged as he conformed his own clothes to be put in place. the fact that you still felt a rouse to finish what you started made you feel disgusted with yourself, though he deserved to rot here. why did the bad guys always have to be so hot? it just was not fair.

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slasherbaby · 3 years ago

Text

Call Me [read on ao3 or under the cut! ♡]

Pairing: Danny Johnson x Trans Masc reader (he/him pronouns)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: smut, very mild breeding kink, knifeplay, cock/cunt used to describe the reader’s junk

Length: 4676 words

“Fuck,” Danny grunted into the phone, his voice low and forced. From sound alone, you can tell how he’s holding himself. It doesn’t take much imagination to envision the way his jaw strained, his eyebrows pulled down in the middle. “Wanna slide right into that cunt, fuck. Know you’d be so wet, such a fucking slut for me.”

Historically speaking, you’ve never been into dirty talk. It always sounded stiff, the guy talking to you usually too unsure of himself to sound even remotely sexy. But god, did it feel different with Danny. His deep voice, the rough edge around each syllable, and the naturally monotone way he spoke has always been enough to drive you crazy, ever since the first ‘hello.’

“Maybe I’d suck on that pretty fucking cock too, gotta make sure my baby’s nice and hard before I fuck him, right?”

It’s easy to picture how he’d look, looking up at you with his dark, dilated eyes. Holding your gaze as he worked your cock in his mouth. You bite down on your lower lip, stifling a groan at the sparks of pain that follow.

The laugh that comes through the receiver is rough and hoarse, sending a shiver of delight up your spine. “Don’t hide from me, angel. I already know how much of a whore you are,” Another laugh rasps through. “Everyone knows how you act at the bar after a few drinks, fucking brat. Drooling for attention, dancing around like you’re asking for it. Giving a show to everyone.”

“Yours,” You gasp, your voice just a touch away from sounding desperate. It’s the truth, afterall, but Danny already knows it. You both know that he’s the only one you’d let touch you, the only one you want to touch you. “Just yours.”

“And don’t fucking forget it.” Danny’s voice drops into a growl, making you whimper. “I’m the only one who gets you like this. You’re fucking mine, baby. Mine and mine alone.”

Another gasp falls from your lips, nodding your head even though you know he can’t see. Your cock is hard and aching, but you move your fingers away from where you’ve been circling it, going lower and lower until you reach your entrance.

“Danny…” You groan, squeezing your eyes shut as you wait for him to keep talking, to keep bringing you closer to the edge.

“You’ve got no idea how crazy it makes me to see how people look at you. Makes me wanna put a collar on you, fucking let everyone know who you belong to.” There’s a grunt from the other side of the phone, slick noises punctuating every breath Danny takes. “Or maybe the next time you wanna act like a whore, I’ll make you wear that little red dress in your closet. You know the one, don’t you?”

You groan out a noise of confirmation, chest swelling up when he hums in approval.

“I’ll bring you out to Walleyes with me after work, and I’ll fuck you in the bathroom. I know how dirty sluts like you want it, don’t worry. I’ll make sure to fill you up real good before sending you off to dance. Without your panties, of course. Gotta see if you can keep my come in without it dripping out. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I know I would. Letting everyone know how fucking good I breed my baby.”

Your hole clenches around nothing, desperately seeking out something to fill it as Danny spews filth into your ear. Pretending it’s Danny, you slowly push in a single digit. It’s not nearly enough to satisfy, but that’s nothing you aren’t used to.

Adding another finger gives you a bit of a stretch, but it pales in comparison to how Danny’s fingers would feel. His hand dwarfs yours, his fingers long and thick and perfect for curling up at just the right angle.

“S’not enough.” You groan as you thrust into yourself, but it’s hardly a groan of pleasure.

“What’s not enough?”

“My fingers, it’s-” Another groan comes from your lips, but this time it’s filled with frustration. You’ve been pent up all day, even though you just saw Danny the night before. And yet you still can’t satisfy yourself. Not by yourself, anyway.

You know you could come in a matter of minutes if you really wanted to. From your fingers pressed against your cock. It’s how you usually get off, rubbing one out quickly. Rarely do you try and fuck yourself, only dipping down to collect some of your wet and use it to make your cock nice and slick to finish yourself off.

But those orgasms are bland. Fun, of course, but not what you really want. You want the thigh shaking, eye rolling, screaming orgasm that you know can only come from being properly fucked.

Little tears of frustration well up in your eyes as you adjust your hips, trying and failing to find a better angle. “It’s just not enough.”

“Baby,” Danny coos mockingly, his deep voice vibrating through the phone. “You don’t have anything else to fill you up? No toys?”

Your first instinct is to snap back at him, but you refrain, biting down on your tongue instead. It’s embarrassing, how needy you feel. But your desire’s rolling off of you in waves of heat, and it’s a thirst you can’t quench on your own.

“Don’t make fun of me,” You mumble, pressing the side of your face into your pillow. “S’not my fault…”

“Are you pouting?” Danny’s voice is a shade away from being more condescending than you can bear, his tone unlawfully sweet. You can tell he’s talking through a grin. “Fucking yourself while pouting? Fuck, angel. You’re too much.”

“You’re so mean to me,” Your voice cracks halfway through the sentence, but it’s not from the way you're grinding your hips. The lump in your throat and the tears in your eyes don’t do anything but make you feel stupid, so fucking stupid that a part of you wants to hang up right then and there. As delicious as his voice is, you crave your boyfriend’s touch more than phone sex.

“Darling, are you crying?”

You sniffle, shaking your head. You’re too far gone, too lost in your head to realize he won’t be able to see you. After a moment, you hear Danny chuckle. It’s too much, your face is burning something fierce and you can’t handle anymore embarrassment. With a click, you hang up the phone, pulling your fingers out of yourself and cramming your face properly into the pillow.

A minute passes in silence, before you hear the sound of your phone trilling next to you. You pick it up before it can get to the second ring, fully ready to apologize for acting like such a baby. It was supposed to be a sexy thing, not something so dramatic.

“Danny?”

“You’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

You roll over, facing the ceiling with a pinched expression. “I-“

“I’ll be over in thirty.”

“Minutes?” You sit completely upright, clutching onto your phone like a vice.

“Be ready for me, Angel. ”

Your heart jolts in your chest when the line cuts out, and you immediately drop your phone back onto the receiver. You slap your hand over your face, covering up the grin that’s started to grow.

You didn’t expect Danny to be so… down? Especially so late at night, when he has work in the morning, nonetheless. Jumping off the bed, you rush to your dresser, grabbing the folded robe on top of it.

You slip your arms through the sleeves before turning to face the mirror, eyes darting across your body. It’s a simple little thing, something vintage and pretty that caught your eye when you were shopping for clothes a while back. It’s light blue, made from silky satin that hardly reaches your upper thighs and delicate white lace that kisses the hem of the fabric. You tie the robe shut at the small of your waist, looping the sash into a messy bow at the front.

There’s a knock at your door the second you finish looking yourself over, making you nearly jump out of your skin in surprise. You leave your bedroom in a rush, but as you pass by the living room to get to the front door, you pause. Licking your lips, you shoot a glance towards the grandfather clock. Hardly five minutes had passed since he called you.

There was no way Danny could’ve gotten to your place that fast. The excitement in your chest pops, deflating like a sad balloon as you approach the front door, leaning forward with your hands against the wood. When you look through the keyhole, you frown. There’s no one in sight.

“Probably just kids messing around…” You murmur, fiddling with sash at your waist.

But before you can turn away from the door, something leather slams over your mouth, and your cheek is being shoved up against the wood. You try to kick back at whoever grabbed you, but it’s no use. They have an iron grip, and all fighting back gets you is their front shoved against your back, holding you tight against the front door.

You can’t move your hands with the way they’ve been trapped between your body and the door, no matter how hard you struggle against it. They release your mouth, but you’re still too stunned to speak. It’s only then, when you feel the sharp end of a blade press against your thigh, that you realize how vulnerable you are.

“My boyfriend’s gonna be home any minute now.” You grit out as they put the tip of their knife against your sensitive inner thigh. They press hard, hard enough to break skin if you don’t open your legs wider, so you’re forced to move with it. “He’s big and tall and he’ll-“ You’re breath hitches as the person behind you trails the knife up, getting closer and closer to the space between your legs. “He’s a scary motherfucker and he’ll fucking kill you if you touch me!” Your voice breaks as you shout, and to your surprise, the person actually pulls the knife away.

The chuckle that comes next, low and familiar, surprises you as well.

“A ‘scary motherfucker’?” It’s Danny’s voice that greets you, his lips kissing the shell of your ear as he speaks. “Hmm. I guess I am.”

“Danny,” You breathe out, the fear leaving your body like a tidal wave. “What the fuck are you-“

One of his gloved hands cuts you off again before you can finish your sentence, pressing tight against your mouth. His other hand slides eagerly between your legs, slipping inside you without warning.

“You know I don’t like being hung up on.” His voice was far from what you were familiar with, low and grating in your ear. The laugh that follows it equally as foreign. “Ha… should’ve know that you’d get wet from that, fucking slut.”

Like you’re any better, you try to growl, but the leather trapping your mouth makes it impossible to speak, your words coming out in muffled irritation instead.

He laughs, kicking your legs further apart with one of his heavy boots. With a slick sound that makes you blush, he removes his fingers from your slit.

The zipper on his pants hardly makes a noise as he frees himself, but it’s enough to make you press back against him by instinct alone. He moves his hand away from your mouth, pressing his palm against your upper back instead, keeping you pinned to the wall.

You gasp out- something warm and hard pressing up against your entrance. He laughs as he slots his cock between your thighs, right up against your sex, dragging the head along your hardness.

“Danny,” You moan, arching your back and wiggling your hips, hoping to angle it just enough so that he slips inside of you. He’s never taken you like this before, even though you know he’s wanted to, and the rush of it nearly makes your head spin.

“Hmm?” He asks, voice terribly calm for the situation. “What is it? Do you wanna stop?” And just as easily as he started, he pulls back. Grunting a bit before the zipper on his pants is pulled back up. “C’mere.”

You want to cry all over again, so desperately close to getting what you need and yet so far all the same.

“I didn’t mean sto-“

You cut yourself off with a noise of surprise as he grabs you by the hair, pulling you around harshly and forcing you to face him. After he lets go, he takes a few steps back, leather boots thudding heavy against the wooden floor.

You open your mouth, but whatever words you want to say die on your tongue as he reaches out, touching your cheek. The back of his knuckles brush delicately against your cheekbone.

Your stomach does somersaults as he looks you over, taking your body in full. His hand moves down, tracing the outline of your waist through the robe. You can hardly feel his touch, but it makes you shiver all the same.

“I must be the luckiest guy,” Danny murmurs as he takes hold of the end of the bow tying your robe together, slowly pulling it until it comes undone. He lets your robe fall open, the night air cool on your front, and slips his hand inside the fabric to stroke your hip. “To have such a pretty baby.”

Your eyes flutter shut at the praise, but Danny doesn’t let it slide. He takes you by the chin, the pad of his gloved thumb stroking the skin under your lower lip.

“You know that, right?” He nods your head for you, gently tilting your head up and down. You open your eyes, brows slightly furrowed, only to meet his smile. “There we go, pretty thing. Always so ready for me… Always so good…”

You push up on your tiptoes, pressing yourself further into Danny’s touch. You don’t say a word as you slip your hands under his leather jacket, running along the fabric of his shirt before going under it as well. Your lips quirk up when you feel his abdomen tighten, straining with the muscle you already know is there. You trail one of your hands down, letting a stray finger hook into his belt loop.

“Rode all this way,” You murmur, ignoring the way your gut squirms with confusion. There’s no way Danny could’ve gotten to your place so fast, not even if he was speeding the whole way. “And you won’t even kiss me…”

Danny snorts, his hand turning tight on your hip, gripping you hard. “That’s all you want?” He leans down to press his lips against yours, so soft it makes your heart ache.

It’s the contrast with him. The push and pull. So hot and eager one minute, yet so cold and distant the next. But his lips are sweet and kind against yours, and you can’t bring yourself to pick at the scabs of question that litter your relationship with him.

When he pulls back, his voice is rough against your mouth, lips moving like butterfly kisses against yours. “Just one kiss?”

You unzip his jeans in response, nipping at his lower lip when he chuckles.

“Mmhm. That’s what I thought.”

In a quick motion, Danny wraps one arm under your thigh and the other tight around your waist, hoisting you up like you weigh nothing. You nearly yelp at him, your hands slipping out from under his shirt. Before you have the chance to respond, he has your back pressed up against the door once again.

He kisses you with ferocity you’ve never felt from another. Licking into your open mouth, he waits for you to moan before biting down on your lower lip. You grab a fistful of his hair, yanking down when he sinks his teeth down into it again.

Danny works his way down from your lips, sucking dark bruises on your neck and jawline. You gasp and let go of his hair, grabbing onto the back of his neck instead.

“Danny,” You try to speak but the second you start, he’s biting down hard. Right under your jawline, where he knows you’re most sensitive, making you melt into a gasping mess.

He pulls back by a fraction, leaving his lips to rest against the mark he’s made. You can feel the smile on his lips when he speaks, low and so gravely that you swear you can feel it thrumming through your throat. “What was that?”

You laugh, something that starts out soft but turns breathless once he replaces his lips with his tongue. “Choke me,” You rush, as if you’re worried you might forget if he keeps going. The tongue on your neck disappears, and doubt flashes in your mind. “If you want.” You clarify, just as fast. “You can if you want, I mean. I… I don’t mind.”

“Is that right, baby? You don’t mind?”

You nod your head as he adjusts his hips, keeping you stable against the wall so he can pull away from your neck. The look on his face is diabolical, and if you weren’t being held up you’re sure it would be enough to send you to your knees.

“Wanna know what I think?”

You lick over your kiss-bitten lips and nod.

“I think my baby’s a fucking freak.” His hand goes around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure. You press into the touch, exhaling through your nose. Your cheeks are on fire, butterflies batting their wings in your stomach.

“I just... I-” Your stammer is cut off by the hand on your throat tightening, stopping the words before they can fall from your tongue.

Your eyes widen as Danny leans in, propping up his thigh to keep you up against the wall. His hand slides down then, squeezing the inner of your upper thigh. You know where he’s going, and let out a shaky exhale, wrapping your legs tighter around him in anticipation. When he touches you, you bite your lower lip.

“You’re still dripping,” Danny sing-songs, dragging two fingers through your folds. He avoids your cock, but just him touching you is enough for you to groan. “I’d say you’re even more wet now.”

Your eyes bulge as he flexes his arm muscles, the veins on his forearm straining from the pressure. The ease at which he can cut off your breath should scare you, but all you can process is the heavy, humid heat that’s filling up your mind. You don’t struggle for breath, you don’t need to yet, but you do open your mouth when he squeezes even tighter.

“It’s so hot,” He groans, pressing forward until his arm is trapped between both of your chests, and his mouth is panting against your ear. “Feeling how bad you need me,”

If his fist wasn’t wrapped around your throat, you would’ve whined. You can feel his heavy puffs of air on the side of your face, and how his chest moves with every ragged breath. You tilt your hips up, trying to get him to move his fingers down. You’ve been waiting so long, and all you want is to feel him inside you. But he just chuckles, presses closer, stilling your hips.

“Desperate,” Danny rasps. “Fucking slut, can’t come unless I’m inside you?”

Your cheeks burn, mouth opening and closing like a fish. You’re nearly spaced out, your head beginning to spin from the lack of oxygen.

“So fucking wet for it, so wet for me,” He inhales shakily, like he’s trying to pull himself together, before letting you breathe again.

You suck in a deep breath, head spinning from the sudden rush of oxygen. He keeps his hand on your throat, not tight enough to choke, but just enough to serve as a reminder of what he could do. Danny presses further up against you, crushing you into the door as he slips a digit inside your heat.

“Oh,” You groan as he adds another, curling them upwards as his thumb starts to massage your cock. “Danny,”

He doesn’t respond, too far gone to speak as he watches you. His eyes are dark and open wide, with an unfamiliar, wild glint in them. The way he works you feels the same, rough and fast, almost in time with his heavy pants.

“You’re driving me crazy,” He grunts, squeezing your neck. “Having you like this-” he cuts himself off with a deep inhale before pulling out completely.

Before you have the time to complain, he’s grabbing you by the hips again, walking a few feet over to the kitchen table, and slamming you down onto it. Your back thuds when it hits the old wood, your eyes wide with shock. He shoves your legs apart, grabbing you by the thighs so he can drag you closer to him.

The skillful way he unbuckles and unzips his pants could almost seem calm if it wasn’t betrayed by the near frantic look in his eyes. He only gets his jeans undone enough to pull his cock out before grabbing you again, pulling until your ass is almost hanging over the table, and thrusting into you.

You can’t be embarrassed by the noise he drags from your throat, something high and strangled and fuck, you know that if it wasn’t for him stretching you out before, he’s big enough that it would’ve hurt. He doesn’t speak as he thrusts, fucking you as you’ve never been fucked before. He’s like a man on the brink, his hands gripping you hard enough to leave bruises.

There’s a moan stuck in your throat, some words too. An assortment of garbled sentences, but each thrust punches them right out until you’re being pounded into a whining, half-crying mess. He’s hitting all the right places, angling his hips just right, and slamming into you until you see stars.

It’s only after you get close, your thighs shaking and straining with the effort, that Danny grabs your throat, squeezing hard as he slows down his thrusts. “If I had my way, I’d keep you like this all the time.”

You swallow back another moan, your eyes still wide when they meet his.

“So wet and open, like you were fucking made for me.” Each word is punctuated by a thrust, hard and slow. His hand turns to a fist, cutting off your airflow. “Gonna give you what you need, gonna take good care of my baby,” Danny moves his hand from your thigh to your waist, ghosting over your stomach. “And if you’re good, I might even fuck one into you.”

Your back arches as you come, his words are all you need to go right over the edge. Black ebbs away at your vision as Danny fucks you through it, hard and fast, choking you as you writhe on his cock. He’s set the pace now, and keeps it steady even as you come back down into your body. It’s nearly too much, but you can’t find the strength to articulate your words.

His hand leaves your throat, but only to trail down your chest, moving to your navel. His fingers find your cock easily, and you yelp in some sort of mix between pain and pleasure. It’s too much, and you arch your back off the table, shimming your hips, doing anything to escape his touch. It’s fire, his touch. Blinding, painful, but so damn hot you can’t help but crave more.

It lasts for years, the constant mix between pain and pleasure. The digit on your cock only lets up once Danny’s breathing turns to pants, sweat beading on his forehead. His hips stutter, slowing down for a moment before gripping your hips with a sudden, newfound intensity. Your skin pales where he’s applied pressure, slamming you down hard onto his cock.

“Angel,” Danny groans, fucking into you once, twice, three times. He comes with a growl, his eyes never shutting as he rides out his pleasure.

There’s a whine in your throat, spilling from your lips just as he fills you up. You’ve never done this without a condom before, but now that you have, you don’t know how you could ever go back to wrapping it up. He leans back, still inside you, catching his breath. Sucking in greedy lungfuls as you watch, your chest heaving with the same intensity.

When he moves to pull out, you grab both of his wrists, not giving him the option of letting go of your hips.

“Wait,” You murmur, pulling him in closer. There’s no real strength behind it, but Danny humors you all the same. You bring one of his hands up to your cheek and nuzzle into it, peppering a few light kisses on his knuckles.

He leans forward, and you kiss him softly, both of you smiling into it. You free his hands, having gotten what you wanted, and he moves them to trail down your chest, caressing your sides. He leaves one to rest on your belly, the other one moving to the side of your neck.

“You really liked that, huh?” Danny asks quietly, his voice a low whisper against your skin.

“Shut up.”

He huffs, kissing the side of your head in what you can tell is exasperation.

A part of you wishes you could stay like this forever. It makes you feel safe, having Danny surrounding you so fully. It makes you feel loved. But the smarter part of you knows that he has to be up at six tomorrow morning, and you don’t know if he’ll stay once you fall asleep. If you’re already in the bedroom, clinging to him under the covers, he’ll stay the night. But if you doze off on the kitchen table, you know he’ll only tuck you into bed before leaving.

“Bed?” You ask, looking up at Danny with half lidded eyes. You can feel the fondness in his gaze as he stares down at you, waiting a few seconds before nodding.

“Yeah baby. C’mere.”

His hands are gentle as they slide over your body, and you have to stop him before he can try and carry you himself.

“I can walk, you know. I’m not gonna break.” You try to chastise, but a smile breaks through your facade. He grins back, lips spreading to reveal teeth, sharp and as deadly as ever. But his lips are soft, plush against your skin and gentle in a way that is too hard for your muddled mind to try and describe. “You know that first hand.”

Danny slips his arms around you once more, chuckling softly against your skin. “I sure do.” He leans up, taking you into his arms as he straightens out his body. “It’ll take a lot more to break you, darling. I know that first hand.”

He carries you to bed with your face tucked into the crook of his neck and your arms slung loosely around his shoulders, and he only needs one arm to pull back the sheets, keeping the other around your waist, before laying you down and tucking you in.

“Stay?” The space between your thighs is sore, and your voice is hoarse from his hand wrapped around your neck. But you amplify it just a bit, making your voice a bit more gravely than it ought to. You have to stay. you’re trying to convey. Look what you’ve done to me, you can’t just leave me like this.

He shucks off his jeans and jacket before slipping in beside you. Warming your bed like he has all the times before, with his arms around you and his face buried in your hair.

You shut your eyes to the sound of him murmuring, and even though you can’t quite hear what he’s saying, you repeat the words back on instinct.

“Love you too, Danny. Love you forever.”

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