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tkpuke · 2 years

Text

K.O.

Pairing: Steve/Dustin

Summary: in which Dustin doesn’t know when to stop bickering until he hits a nerve. Steve finally decides to put him in line as a fair warning.

Word count: 1,149

DO NOT tag as ship.

“All my quarters. Gone, just like that. For nothing.”

“Dude, I could’ve destroyed that guy if I was given another chance. I had a feeling.” Steve argued, closing the front door behind him.

“You said that like fifty times! You were stuck on round 3 for god knows how long.” Dustin yelled from across the living room, sliding down on the couch defeatedly.

Steve took a Orange Fanta soda can from the fridge, leaning against the kitchen counter while taking multiple sips. “Maybe Ryu just sucks. I should’ve picked a different character, huh?”

Dustin sighed. “Or maybe you just suck.”

Inviting Steve to the arcade to play the newly released game, Street Fighter, sounded like a nice idea to hangout this morning to Dustin, since Mike and Lucas weren’t free to get ahold of. If only Dustin knew Steve would blow off all his saved up quarters to be stuck on round 3, struggling to the core with every hard toggle on the joystick, he wouldn’t have a problem to go by himself instead.

“Don’t act like you weren’t struggling to get past round 3 either.” Steve shot back, eyeing him from the kitchen.

“How do you suck at fighting in real life and in video games?” Dustin muttered for him to only hear, but apparently it wasn’t quiet enough.

“What was that?” Steve set his soda aside, starting to make his way towards the boy. This caused Dustin to sit up straight, feeling a little alarmed but that didn’t stop his next bold response.

“You. Can’t. Fight.”

“Okay, y’know what? Get up.”

Dustin happily got on his feet, crossing his arms while giving Steve a wide smug smile to irritate him more. Dustin knows how easily Steve gets riled up, over the smallest comments than anything. Whether it’s about his hair, his slight ego, or his horrible pickup lines towards girls, he’ll give you the blowup reaction you were earning for.

“Me, you, let’s go.” Steve got himself into a pounce-like position, looking ridiculous to Dustin.

Dustin scoffs out a laugh, but wiped his smile away when Steve barely budged. “You’re serious?”

Steve’s next move answered Dustin’s question pretty quick.

Arms wrapped around the boy’s torso, attempting to knock him over on the couch. Dustin lets out a surprise shriek, not letting it happen by pushing back. They circled around, foreheads bumping every few seconds. The goal of this mini fight was obvious. Whoever lands on the ground first, has lost.

Dustin felt himself sliding on the wooden tile, knees almost touching the ground. Of course, he couldn’t let that happen. Especially if he’s up against Steve. The sort of pride that man would gain would be something he would never hear the end of.

In order to flip the tables, Dustin hooked his leg behind Steve’s left leg, making him lose footing in hopes he goes tumbling down on the ground. Unfortunately, the plan went south. They both landed on the ground with a thud, taking a few seconds to themselves to let out a few pained grunts.

Their stilled movements came to a end, both trying to stand up faster than the other. In the middle of it all, Steve’s hand were placed firmly on Dustin’s shoulder to give himself a little push in standing up. A squeak shoved away all the rumbling noises, Steve automatically knowing he accidentally brushed his fingers on the boy’s neck.

Getting up was suddenly Steve’s last priority as of right now.

Steve sat on top of Dustin’s flailing legs, fetching for a wrist in the process. Dustin isn’t stupid, he knows exactly where this is headed. The amount of times Steve tickled him senseless because he needed to “watch his tone”, Steve’s words, should’ve been enough for Dustin to start biting his tongue. Unfortunately, it didn’t. Some would blame Dustin’s secret mini enjoyment of tickling, but he would deny it until the day he dies.

“Get off! You’re heavy!” Dustin wailed while weakly hitting Steve’s chest with one free arm, but it immediately went down when there was a tweak of his side. The tweak instantly turned into fast scribbling, reveling in Dustin’s snorts that never fails to make the people around him laugh when hearing them.

“Three…” Steve began the countdown, the scribbling to Dustin’s sides never slowing their pace. Once Steve reaches to one with Dustin still on the floor, he will walk home tonight in victory. Of course, Dustin has the chance to worm a hand at Steve’s stomach which will result in the man crumbling down in a heap of giggles, leading Dustin in the path of winning this hilarious fight instead.

Although, would Steve play fair and let him have the strength to do that? No, no he would not.

“Two…” Steve slid his hands higher up, now playing his ribs like a piano. Ears picking up on soft thuds behind him, seeing Dustin digging his heels on the floor to try and buck Steve off. Took only a third attempt to realize that plan isn’t gonna work anytime soon.

Dustin tried to sneakily worm his hand towards Steve’s leg, aiming to pinch rapidly on the man’s thigh. It took Steve not even a second to catch on and immediately go in for the kill before Dustin managed to flip the tables successfully and go all merciless on his ass.

“One!” Steve’s last destination was Dustin’s stomach, the spot that nails in the coffin. Every scribble, squeeze, and digging got Dustin’s snort filled laughs come to an end. When silence filled the air, Steve halted his movements and took a stand.

“Your stomach never fails to shut you up.” Steve said while smiling down at Dustin’s breathless state. Targeting Dustin’s stomach doesn’t reward you giggles for three minutes, more like five seconds. Then, it goes straight to silent laughter. That little knowledge comes in handy, if you ask Steve.

“Yohou…cheated..” Dustin told between breaths, making his way to lay down on the couch to heal from the brutal attack. Steve rolled his eyes, but does know damn well he did, in fact, cheat. He would defend himself by saying if anybody found out their opponent is deathly ticklish, you couldn’t help but get your hands curious. Especially if it results in giving you an extra helping hand in winning.

“Hey Steve, can I tell you something?” Dustin asks, tugging Steve’s sleeve to get him to kneel down so he can whisper in his ear. Although it was just the two of them in the house, Steve complied.

“You still suck in fighting.”

Dustin will never learn. Steve’s aware, but why still tackle him down on the couch and tickle him to pieces yet again? Maybe because Steve is also aware that Dustin, despite the fact he likes to be a pain in the ass on purpose, enjoys the bonding affection he’ll never blatantly admit to.

#stranger things #stranger things tickle #stranger things tickle fic #tickle fic #ler!steve #ticklish!dustin #steve harrington #dustin henderson #tickle fluff #i luv their chaotic friendship #Steve my fav dad #tkpuke fics #requested

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

One Night🌙11

Warnings: noncon sexual acts and rape, angry Andy, hormones, awkward dinner, y’all know what it be.

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: One night changes your entire life.

for @kittykatlow‘s 200 Follower Celebration

Note: Okay, here’s an update.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You wore a black dress, barely loose enough to fit over your bump as the hem floated high in the front. Your forehead beaded with sweat as you took out the heavy glass pan from the oven and puffed. You set it down and removed the lid as steam clouded out. You heard your father’s voice from the living room and Andy’s baritone response.

The night was smooth so far. Your father was particularly impressed by the autographed baseballs on the mantle but never outspoken, the conversation didn’t stray much from sports or cars. Your mother’s posture and expression betrayed her discomfort but she masked it with a cordial tone. You were thankful for it as you didn’t need to deal with her attitude and Andy’s at once. You were too hormonal and tired for that.

You began to take down plates from the cupboard and your mother’s voice sounded from behind you. She neared and reached up next to you as she grabbed the next plate before you could. She stacked the four of them neatly and grasped them in her knobby hands.

“You’re too pregnant for that,” she said, “you grab the silverware.”

You gave a small smile and turned to open the drawer as she left you. You took out the utensils and followed her into the dining room. You set the table and she returned to the kitchen. You came after her and she used a dishcloth to lift the hot pan.

“Get the door, will ya?” she said as she angled around carefully.

She passed you as you held open the swinging door and she set the pan down on the mat in the middle of the table. She inhaled deeply and glanced over at you.

“Stuffed peppers?” she asked.

“Your recipe,” you said, “I’ve been craving them.”

“Next time, let me make them,” she smiled, “you still don’t know the special ingredient.”

“I’ll figure it out one day,” you rubbed your lower back.

“Sit,” she pulled out a chair, “I’ll go get the men.”

You neared her and leaned on the back of the chair, “mom,” you said quietly.

“I’m trying,” she said grimly, “I’m just… not happy yet.”

You nodded and hung your head, “yeah, you don’t have to be, but thank you.”

“I don’t like that man,” she hissed, “a wife in the hospital and he’s knocking up a stranger--”

“Mom,” you warned her, “please.”

“I know, I know,” she shook her head, “but you’re my daughter and he’s… I don’t know, who knows what really happened to the wife.”

You gave her a look and she pursed her lips. She retreated and you sat down heavily and cupped your cheeks. All you had to do was get through dinner. Then you could say you were tired and hide in your room.

You heard her voice in the next room and the impending footsteps before they appeared in the doorway. Your mother and father sat across from you and Andy took the seat to your right. You waited awkwardly and he cleared his throat.

“Well, sweetheart, aren’t you going to serve the guests?” he intoned.

“I can do it,” your mother offered, “don’t make her work any harder than she needs to. Not in her condition.”

You were slightly taken aback by her effort but you didn’t miss how the corner of her lip twitched as she eyed Andy. She didn’t like and didn’t trust him. You couldn’t say you did either and almost for the first time in your life, you felt a kindred connection to your mother.

She stood and scooped a pepper carefully onto each plate with a generous spoonful of sauce from the bottom of the dish. She set them back carefully before each diner and returned to her chair and sat. She smiled, a forced smile, and shifted her chair closer.

“So, you have some time but… once the baby’s here, I’m sure you’ll be back to work,” you mother began, your father always content to hide in his food, “me and your dad talked, we could watch the kid once and a while--”

“She’s not going back to work,” Andy interjected, “especially not at the diner.”

“Oh,” your mother’s lips pressed together in a firm line, “she isn’t?”

“Maybe after a year?” you began as you glance at Andy, “once I get the hand of things--”

“No,” Andy said, “you’re staying home with her.”

“I guess we haven’t decided,” you offered calmly, embarrassed by Andy’s attitude, “as you said, we still have time and we’re figuring stuff out.”

“Once the kiddo’s in school, you’ll have the time to get a job,” your dad offered, “that’s what your ma did. She kept on a few hours here and there when you were real small but once you hit kindergarten, she was back to full shifts.”

“We’ll talk,” Andy threw a hand up and grabbed his fork with his other, “it’s really not your business. It’s ours.”

“Andy,” you chided, “they’re just curious--”

“And where were they for the last couple months?” he snarled, “they weren’t so curious then.”

“Alright, calm down,” you hissed, “sorry, mom, dad--”

“Don’t apologise for me,” he snipped, “they should be apologising to you. That’s why I welcomed them into my home.”

“What?” you gulped, “Andy, they don’t need to--”

“No, no, my child is gonna have at least one set of grandparents and if it’s going to be them, they’re going to respect you and me,” Andy insisted, “so they can apologise or they can leave without dessert.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you uttered.

“Don’t you tell me how to act,” he cut into the pepper, “so…” he looked across the table at your parents, “she made this delicious meal and I think she deserves at least a little appreciation from the two of you.”

You dad looked angry for once in his life as your mother’s lips curled in mortification. You gave them both a shameful look and shook your head just slightly. You mouthed an apology as Andy huffed and tapped impatiently on the table.

“We’re sorry, honey,” your mother began, “we overreacted. Just like I said earlier, I was surprised.”

“Sorry,” your dad forced out as he glared at Andy, “you know I always love and support you, no matter what.”

“Thank you,” you said softly, “now,” you touched Andy’s arm gently, “we can move on. It’s all good.”

“Mhmm,” he grumbled as he leaned forward to take a bike, “we can… but this doesn’t happen again.”

You wanted to shrink down and hide under the table. The tension that rose was palpable and threatened to choke you. You had false hope in the beginning that this might feel normal, that you might end the night with a new standing between you and your mother.

You knew then that Andy’s goal had never been to bring you back together, it was only to gain another degree of control. He made it clear that no one could help you, not even your own parents.

🌙

You were almost thankful for the sink full of dishes. It kept you distracted and gave you a reason not to sit and stew with Andy. Your parents left shortly after you cut the cherry pie and you cleaned up as they bid their farewells. You were completely humiliated by Andy’s hubristic demands but you didn’t dare argue with him. Especially not in front of guests.

You scrubbed the dishes as your stomach pressed to the wet counter and placed each in the drying rack. Andy came in as you pulled the drain and you took the dish cloth from its hook.

“Here, I’ll dry,” he offered.

You stared at him and wiped the water from your hands and gave him the cloth. He went to the rack and opened a cupboard. You took out a container and began to pack up the leftovers from the pan and wrapped the top of the pie. The silence made every clink and clank louder as you moved around the kitchen.

You shut the fridge and sensed him behind you. You flinched as his hands settled on your hip and you gripped pressed your palm against the cool metal. He pulled you back against him and slid his hands around your bump as he hummed.

“Did I tell you this dress looks wonderful?” his fingers brushed the dishwater along the front.

“Andy,” you grasped his wrists, “what are you doing?”

He rocked you as one hand grazed beneath your bump and his fingers dangled over your vee. He bent and inhaled the scent of your scalp. You went rigid as he wiggled against your back, his arousal twitching tellingly.

“Andy, please--”

“Can’t knock you up a second time,” he purred.

“I… no, please, I’m tired--”

“Come on, honey, that night… wasn’t that amazing?” He turned you to face the island and you caught yourself against the edge, “that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“It was a mistake, alright? Look at us now--”

“Look at us, hmmm?” he pushed his hand down and cupped your cunt through your dress. You gasped and squeezed his wrist, “I lay in my bed thinking of you all night… and you’re just across the hall. Why are we playing this game still?”

“Get off of me, please,” you begged, “Andy--”

He pressed his fingers to your pants and pushed the cotton against your folds. You bit your lip as he found your clit and the chafing formed a pressure beneath his touch. You shook your head and leaned back into him, trying to shove him away.

“Let me go…” you breathed.

“Doesn’t that feel good?” he urged, “I can feel you getting wet already. You’re lying to yourself.” He pulled your panties aside and dipped two fingers between your lips, “why do you gotta be so damn stubborn?”

You sucked in air and tensed as he played with your bud so that your thighs quivered. You tucked your chin in and bit down as you tried not to let out a moan. Your nails sank into sleeve but he kept on. You felt how powerful he truly was, his chest pressed against you as his arm remained immoveable.

He bent you slightly as he snaked his hand further and poked a finger inside of you. You squeaked and he added another, curling them as he began to rock his hand. He buried his face into your neck and his hot breath permeated your skin.

“Mmm, isn’t that nice, honey? I just wanna help you relax?” his teeth grazed your neck, “I can be nice, you see?”

Those words turned your blood to ice. You closed your eyes as you returned to those hours ago when his fist crashed into the wall. When his voice was rigid and unloving, when you were certain he would do worse than just yell. Now he was all over you, coaxing you as if it never happened, as if there hadn’t been months of this precarious tug-of-war.

“Andy, really, I’m tired,” you pleaded, “that night… I told you--”

Your voice caught in your throat as he thrust his fingers deeper and moved his hand faster. The pressure throbbed inside of you, pulsing through your veins and you kept your hand tight on the counter as you gripped his arm with the other. Your ankles threatened to bend as you shuddered and came in a sudden rush.

“Tired?” he mocked as he led you through your climax, “I’ll do all the work, honey.”

You shook your head and whined through your teeth. He kept on until you were weak and clinging to his hand. He slowly drew his fingers out of you and slid his arm out from around you. You slumped against the counter as he let you go, the subtle tinkle of his belt gleaned in your ear.

You turned to him as his belt hung open and he caught you by surprise. He wrapped one arm around your back, his other hand across your ass as he lifted you with a grunt. You threw your hands back to keep from falling across the island as he put you down on the marble. You tried to slide forward as his hands grasped your hips and held you in place.

His blue eyes burned and dilated. He reached under your skirt and pulled your panties down. You whimpered as he tugged them down. He quickly pushed your legs apart and moved between them, your knees wide around his thighs. He grabbed your chin and tilted your head back, his lips covering yours hungrily.

You clawed at the front of his shirt as his other hand danced along your pelvis. His fingers crawled down your thigh and she shifted as he fumbled blindly with the front of his pants. You pushed against his shoulders as the panic erupted from your stomach and swelled in your throat.

He brought you closer to the edge and pulled his hand back to grip himself. You opened one eye as you tried to peek down but couldn’t see beneath your bump. He leaned on you until you fell over the marble and bent over you as he slipped his tip along your cunt. His lips strayed to your cheek and down to your throat.

“Andy,” you begged one last time as he pressed against your entrance.

He purred against your neck as his hand slid past your shoulder and stretched over your tit. He pushed into you slowly and you gulped as tears pricked in your eyes. You bent your legs so your heels pressed to the side of the counter and gritted your teeth as he got deeper.

As he bottomed out, he rasped against your skin. He stood up straight and dragged your ass over the edge of the counter. He puffed his chest as he thrust into you and his eyes rolled back. He growled as he did it again and your walls clenched around him. Your reached down and pressed on his open pants with your fingertips, trying to push him away pathetically.

“Andy,” you whimpered as he hooked his arm around your thigh, “Andy--”

His other hand flipped up your skirt and he stretched his hand over your round stomach as he rocked into you. You shook your head and covered your face with one hand as you gripped the edge of the marble with your other. Your breaths grew shallow as you fought your own body and the pleasure blooming around his intrusion.

He sped up as the wet noise filled the kitchen and you bit the heel of your hand to keep from crying out. Another orgasm flowed over you and knotted your muscles around him. His groans and grunts grew louder as his flesh slapped against yours, his fingers drawing circles on your stomach.

“Oh fuck,” Andy hissed and jerked his hips harshly.

He sank into you as deep as he could go and wiggled his hips as he flooded you. He twitched as he leaned his head back and sighed, his fingers tight on your thighs as they painfully poked your tender flesh. You moaned and trembled as you felt his release hot inside of you.

He stilled and let your legs splay around him. You stared at the ceiling in shock as he shuddered. You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked between your legs as his cum dripped out around him. You pulled off of him and shoved him away. He seemed to awaken from a trance as you did and his lashes fluttered.

You dropped down carefully to your feet and stormed away. He called your name but the vomit was already halfway up your esophagus. You weren’t going to make it upstairs. You closed yourself in the half-bath under the stairs and wretched into the sink. You held yourself up weakly until the violent ripples quelled. You looked at yourself in the mirror and winced.

One night cost you the rest of your life. One night meant your body, your soul, your days were his. One night would be countless nights, your fate decided in a single careless act.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #fic #series #dark fic #dark!fic #one night #defending jacob

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years

Note

Please could you write one with Grealish where you’re a Chelsea fan so refuse to wear a Villa shirt with his name on, and for bants Mount gets you a Chelsea shirt with his name and Jack gets all pouty?

omg I love this idea!! gets very smutty at the end ;) enjoy!

Villa Boy

A love for Chelsea had been something you adapted and grew to into as a young girl. Your dad was never entirely sure how to bond with his only daughter and your mother told him just to include you in what he loved. And so came your season pass with a little lanyard that still hung proudly in your childhood room right next to a shirt mounted in a glass photo frame with Frank Lampard's signature scrawled along the eight on the back.

It was actually how you met Jack in the first place, which is the only one single reason that he has for liking your club affiliation. Otherwise, it was one of the most annoying things in his world. It was often a source of teasing and taunting, you saying your team was better than his and him swaggering home and gloating for weeks when Aston Villa take a win over Chelsea. It was the bane of his life that he couldn't get you into that claret and blue. Not even to sleep in or wear around the house, you just would not dare put it on.

"I would feel my dad's shame emanate through the walls, maybe it would kill him. And then I'd lose every morsel of self respect I have, so not a chance." You'd snort, not even giving him a window for more persuasion.

His England shirt? that was fair game. You'd wear that with pride, to the shops, round the house, walking the dog and especially at his games but there was just absolutely no chance of getting you into his Villa shirt.

Though Jack may never admit it, it was one of his biggest wants. Seeing you in his England short was nothing short revolutionary - he'd said. It only made him want to see you in the Villa shirt more. That was his childhood club, getting to captain that was one of his biggest achievements and while he knew you were absolutely proud of him. You were the most proud and encouraging person in his life and there were no ifs buts or maybes in that.

But my god he knew you'd look fit in that claret and blue.

No matter how much it annoyed him, he wouldn't get you out of the darker blue home jersey of your favourite club no matter what he did. It was something he had come to accept over the course of your relationship, it was by and large fine.

Until that jersey said someone else's name across the back.

"Awh come on!" He yelps, mouth dropped open as you emerge into the kitchen with your toothbrush hanging out your mouth and only one shoe on. Jack knows you slept in because he switched off your alarm last night in hopes you'd miss the game, but Jack dropped a bowl when he tripped over the dog and woke you up anyway.

You going to the Villa v Chelsea game in a Chelsea shirt was bad enough, but now he's just clocked something that's sent his mind firing a mile a minute.

MOUNT

Not a fucking chance.

"Oi, you!" He calls out, throwing himself off the chair at the kitchen island, his feet fumbling over one another to get after you as quickly as possible. "What's up, Jack?" You hum innocently, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you stand in the doorway shoving on your other shoe. "Is something the matter?"

Jack gawks, opening and closing his mouth awaiting words to find his frazzled brain. "Yes!" He squeaks, a tone you'd never heard from a man before, let along your very deep voiced man. "There's no way that you're- what are you doing? Come back." He groans, his feet shuffling after you as you walk back through the house to find your car keys. "We're going to be late if you don't hurry up." You note sweetly, Jack drops his jaw. "We're not going anywhere until-"

"Hi Mason, yeah I got it. Fits like glove actually. Yeah, we're just leaving now. I'll meet you in the car park."

Jack's face was literally priceless. His agape, eye's wild, brows furrowed. A pout settles itself firmly into his lips the second he sits in the car with his arms folded over his chest like a toddler. You have to physically stifle a laugh at him as you beam the entire drive to Villa Park.

"M' gonna burn that." He states. You cast him a glance out the corner of your eye as you pull into the players parking. A snigger escapes despite your very best efforts and Jack resumes his frontward glare at the dashboard with his lips in a firm line. "Gonna win this game, burn that shirt and knock Mount flat."

You know he's not being serious about Mason. He's very fond of the player when they're on the same side. But you had become very close friends with him through the mutual love for the club he plays at and Jack absolutely despised that. He wasn't the kind to be bothered by your friends even to a moderate degree and even here he trusted you, he just fucking hated the concept of another club and another mans name over your back. It ticked him right off.

You know this very well. You knew what you were getting into the second Mason handed you that dark blue shirt. It was all fun and games really. You loved the club but you only wore the Mount shirt to get under Jack's skin. You thought it might even throw off his game a little.

The second he stormed onto the pitch and scored a goal 5 minutes into the game, you figured that might not be the case.

Every opportunity, every goal, every opening and every single tackle, Jack turned to you. He turned to you with fire in those brown eyes, sending you a cheeky wink. His passion, the very serious look etched onto his features and the way he was looking at you was fuelling a very different kind of fire in you.

Jack played the whole 90 minutes and he took Mason Mount down at every single given opportunity in a careful way that just evaded him getting a yellow card. He finished hot, sweaty and with a man of the match trophy for 2 goals and one assist with a majority of the game spent with the ball at his feet.

The 3 nil win should have been a lot more disappointing that it was, but he just looked so fucking good. The sweat stuck his hair to his temples, his muscles tight and protruding through exertion as he walks off the field after shaking every hand.

You're standing just outside the tunnel with Mason and John McGinn standing with you, talking about the match mostly. John makes a joke about you wearing that top more often, seems to be a good luck charm for Villa even if it's the opposing team. Mason scoffs and says; "More like an angry boyfriend wants to murder me charm."

That's when Jack appears and John barely gets his mouth open to greet him before Jack shoulders through the two footballers. His mouth finds your immediately. Hot, passionate, fiery and filled with his dominance.

He pulls back and grabs onto your hand tightly with his back to the two midfielders. Jack twists his body round with a daggering glare.

"Nobody," Jack growls, "fucks around with girl."

His tone, deep and gravelly, only serves to dampen your panties further in a way that makes your clench your legs together.

Jack's done with pouting, the teasing can resume later. For now, he's dragging you by the hand to a darkened conference room. Hiking you up his body before setting you on the table that sits at a miraculously perfect height that places you right against his bulge.

He wastes no time whatsoever ripping down your leggings and panties, his fingers finding you immediately to swirl pressured motions around your sensitive clit. "Ahh, who's got you moaning like that baby?" He rumbles, words vibrating through your lips.

"You Jack, oh god, you!" You pant as his fingers leave you feeling empty and needy. Jack easily tugs down his shorts and pulls himself out of his boxers to line up with your entrance. His victory sex is hot always, but usually there was a dry spell after a Villa v Chelsea game, so it had never been this hot.

"And who am I?" He grunts, pushing himself into you to hear your shuddering squeak of pleasure. He lays you down over the table, hands following you under your shirt to carefully and tentatively swirl his fingers over your nipples from under your bra. "Oh god, Jack," you move your hands to the hem of the blue shirt to lift it over your head, but Jack's hands stop them before you have the chance.

"No, no, no," he chastises with a smirk, "Want to fuck you in their colours," He continues to thrust roughly into you with each heavy breath, mouth and squeak that escapes you only spurring him on. "Want to fuck you with his name on your back, baby. Remind you who you belong to."

You shudder in pleasure with the feeling of his lips attaching to your neck, letting out a shaky, heavy breath as he snakes a hand down between you to swirl those circles around your more pleasureful spot once again. He knows the intricate details of your body better than any man ever has and he always ensures he uses it to his advantage, but nothing like today. His lips on the sweet spot of your neck, hitting and stretching you perfect between your legs with masterful work of his fingers pushing you closer and closer with each second that passed.

"Fuck , I'm so close-"

"Who's making you feel so good, baby?" He pants, skin slapping and heavy breathing echoing around the room. "You, Jack. You!"

"Not a Chelsea boy eh?" He grunts, teeth nibbling down over your collarbone. "Not a Chelsea boy baby is it?" He reiterates, pairing the movements of his hand only until you snap open your eyes again, "No Jack, it's all you. not a- oh god!"

Jack breathes a chuckle into your ear with an appreciative hum to follow.

"Yeah, Villa Captain isn't it? You're screaming out for a Villa boy, ain't ya?" He coaxes, edging you further and further as he speeds up to a pace he's never quite hit you with before. The adrenaline of the match, the irritation of that blue jersey and the passion for the win colliding to give him an energy he's never yet had. Watching your eyes roll beneath him wearing that stupid blue entices him on, only makes him want to pleasure you more if even possible. "Yes! Yes, I am, oh god just don't stop."

"Go on then," he encourages, voice deep in your ear. "Come undone for the Villa Captain baby."

He didn't have to tell you twice, that was for sure. The sight of your eyes fluttering, the feeling of you clenching around him with a steam of, "Fuck yes Jack!" sends him tumbling over the edge of his orgasm right after you, a strangle cry out of your name as it wracks through him.

When he lays down beside you in the table that very surpassingly withstood the pace of your antics, you're both breathless and shining with sweat. Your legs feel like jelly as you still throb from the pleasure. Jack turns his head to you with a lazy smirk, brushing some hair off your forehead as you turn to look at him.

"Well, I certainly do love a Villa boy."

#jack grealish smut #jack grealish prompt #jack grealish imagines #jack grealish x reader #jack grealish imagine #england national team imagine #england national team #footballer fics #football fics #footie fics

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thesightstoshowyou · 4 years

Note

*leggy up and against the wall* henlo there , could maybe we get a taste of tommy boy when he needs to remind you and himself that you’re his and his alone ?

*Wiggles eyebrows* Henlo! Oh, happy day! I went crazy with this one <3

AFAB Reader (NSFW), Warnings: Kind of dubious consent, blood, gore, death of a minor character, creampie

Unforgiveable Texas heat beats down on you as you make your way to the corner store. Despite the thick layer of sweat that has accumulated between your palms, you continue to hold Tommy’s hand. Your other clutches a paper bag with lunch for Luda Mae.

Reaching the store, you find a truck parked out front. Travelers. Tommy motions toward the back door. Reluctantly, you release his hand and make your way to the front as he skirts around back.

The bell above the door rings as you enter. Luda Mae gives you a small smile, one which you return. Handing off her lunch, you stand in front of the fan, letting the lukewarm air dry your dewy skin.

“Well, shit, look at that,” you whip around when an obnoxious voice sounds behind you. A young man leans up against the counter as you turn. He’s tall, good looking, and fully aware of it. He bites his lip and lets his gaze drag down your body. Wrinkling your nose, you wrap your arms around yourself.

“Thought it was just inbred hicks in this shithole, but looks like you just proved me wrong. What’s your name, cutie?” You’re shocked, jaw dropping at his words. Never in your life have you met someone so rude. Over at a table, the man’s friend snickers under his breath.

Typically, you stay far removed from what Thomas and Hoyt did to the people who came through here, but today you might just make an exception.

Your skin prickles. Glancing over the asshole’s shoulder, you find Thomas standing in the doorway to the back room. He’s seething, shoulders heaving, a murderous look in his eyes that nearly makes you stumble back. You’ve never seen him so angry. You know he has a bit of a temper, but this is something else entirely; something dark and savage.

You clear your throat and respond, “Don’t have one,” before turning back to the fan.

“Ah, c’mon sweetheart, don’t be like that.”

“Think she wants to be left alone,” Luda Mae pipes up from behind the counter, frowning at the man over the top of her glasses.

“We’re having a conversation here,” he snarks, throwing his hands up as though he’s not the one at fault. If looks could kill, this asshole would be dead three times over with how Tommy looks at him. Minutely, you shake your head at Thomas, then nod toward the door.

“You know what? Yeah, let’s go outside so we can talk…privately,” you interrupt, giving the man your sweetest smile. His own lips quirk up in a self-satisfied grin. One last glance over your shoulder shows you Tommy has vanished.

You lead him outside toward his pick-up. The man barely makes it three steps out the door before Thomas in on him. He grips the front of the man’s shirt, reels back, and whacks him in the face with a fist. You hear his nose crunch, watch the blood splatter the front of Tommy’s shirt. He crumples to the ground in a heap.

His friend, watching through the window, is out the door in a flash, screaming obscenities, but like his friend, he proves to be no match for Thomas. Tommy grabs his face and twists, snapping his neck like one would a twig. Your eyes grow wide as saucers as you watch the friend tip over and land with a heavy thud, dry dirt billowing up around his still body.

You’ve never seen Tommy kill anyone before. You’ve heard it, heard the roar of the chainsaw, listened to the screams, but you’ve never seen him unleash his raw brutality first hand. You swallow, eyes glued to the sweaty shirt stuck to his massive back.

You shouldn’t be this turned on.

Thomas doesn’t acknowledge you. Instead, he slings the man over his shoulder and strides over to the truck, dropping the tailgate and tossing the body inside. He does the same with the other man. Fishing the keys out of one of their pockets, he moves to the driver’s seat. Only then does he look at you expectantly.

You have no choice but to follow.

“Tommy wants ter see ya’,” Hoyt calls as he saunters into the dining room. You set down the stack of plates in your hands, frowning.

“Right now?” you ask, nervous butterflies tumbling around in your gut. Your eyes flick to the darkened hallway leading to the cellar.

“Did I stutter?” he snarks, making his way over to the fridge and peering inside. Why would he want you now, mid butchering? You hadn’t communicated once since the incident at the corner store.

Hands trembling, you remove your apron before making your way toward the sliding metal door. You heave it open and descend the rickety stairs, the sharp tang of copper and musty damp meeting your nostrils the further you go. You pause on the bottom step, frown deepening.

“HELP! Help me PLEASE!” You’re surprised to find the rude man from earlier still alive and strung up on a meat hook. Deep purple bruises bloom under his eyes, dried blood crusting along his nose and mouth where Thomas had hit him. He sobs, crying out in pain when the movement jars the metal piercing his flesh. His friend hangs limply next to him, both legs and an arm missing.

You give Thomas a questioning look as he sloshes toward you through the water covering the floor. He’s still irritable, brow drawn down, blue eyes dark and dangerous. He retrieves you from the step and carries you to the blood drenched meat-cutting table.

“Tommy, what are you—

You yelp when Thomas slams your upper body down on the table so your legs hang over the side. Thick, gore covered hands lift your skirt and rip your underwear down to your knees. You squeak, cheeks heating up, looking anywhere but at the man suspended from the ceiling.

“Thomas—

You try again when the clink of a belt buckle meets your ears. Tommy pretends he doesn’t hear you, and you gasp when you feel his cock at your entrance. Gripping your shoulders, he slams home, burying every girthy inch inside your quivering cunt.

You shriek, fingers scrabbling for a hold on the slippery table as Thomas pounds you into the surface. One hand slides from your shoulder to your neck, smearing blood across your skin as he tips your head back until you’re arched. At this angle, he mercilessly assaults that glorious spot deep within you.

Your cunt responds, leaking until the slick noises of his cock popping in and out of you are almost louder than your unchecked moans. Normally, one of you would be covering your mouth so the rest of the family couldn’t hear, but, deliriously, you realize this is his goal. It dawns on you that he’s claiming you, proving you belong only to him in front of the man who had come onto you.

This thought is enough to shove you violently over the edge, cunt clamping down around Tommy’s cock until you’re screaming, powerful waves of euphoria wracking your body. Behind you, Thomas groans and digs his fingers into your shoulder, hips ramming against you once more until he’s painting your insides.

You gasp when he pulls out of you, flips you onto your back, tosses your legs over his shoulder and thrusts back into you, his length as hard as it had been at the start. You chant his name like a prayer when he resumes his frantic pace. Sweat drips down your brow as you arch, cumming on his cock a second time.

Thomas is able to pull two more orgasms from your trembling body before his hips stutter once more. You groan in appreciation when you feel sticky warmth flood your cunt until it overflows, dripping down your ass and onto the table. Your heaving chest mirrors Tommy’s and when you raise your hazy gaze to his face, you find the tense look gone, replaced with contentment.

Body aching, you slip your legs from his shoulders and sit up, gripping the front of his shirt to pull his lips down to yours. You whisper that you love him—only him—against his mouth and sigh when he wraps his arms around you, crushing you to his chest. You stay there, inhaling the scent of sweat and blood and sharp soap, the scent of him.

A pathetic whimper to your left startles you. You glance over to the wide-eyed man hanging from the hook. You’d forgotten he was even there.

Thomas releases you, cupping your face before retrieving the cleaver off the table next to you. In his eyes, you see a promise to pick this back up as soon as he ties up the loose end. Fondly, you smile.

#thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #leatherface #leatherface x reader #slashers #tcm #tcm the beginning #the texas chainsaw massacre #slasher x reader #reader insert #my writing #thank you for the ask #n sfw

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fruitcoops · 4 years

Note

for the jules stay with coops, would you be able to do something where jules kinda just messes around on the ice with a stick n puck n the team just kinda watch in adoration? 🤧

This is the final installment of Adventures in Babysitting! Thank you to everyone who stayed interested in this idea, which is the longest series I’ve ever written for SW fanfic (about 15k words total! Wow!). This is my favorite part so far, I think. Hope you enjoy!

Intro 1 2 3 4

Credit for Sweater Weather/ Jules goes to @lumosinlove!

“Can I watch again today?” Jules begged, tugging on the strap of Remus’ duffel bag as they walked to the car. “Please? Please please please please—”

“Yes, you can watch,” Remus groaned, hefting their gear into the trunk. It seemed extra heavy today. “Though keep asking like that and I’m going to say no.”

“The plane doesn’t leave until six thirty, so we’ll be able to hang out with the guys after practice, right?”

“Well, yeah, but we should be at the airport by five just in case,” Remus said. “And it’s an open practice, so the media will want to ask some questions afterward. You can probably hang out with them between interviews, though.”

Jules bit his lip. “Oh. Okay.”

“We’ll figure something out, don’t worry.” He watched Jules buckle in through the rearview mirror while Sirius turned the car on. Most of the snow had melted the previous day, leaving a clear and crisp morning that Remus could feel through the windows as they drove to the rink; he felt a little bad for everyone who wouldn’t be moving around to keep warm for the next few hours.

Moody wasn’t by the door when they arrived, nor was he in the PT room. Remus checked the clock quickly and frowned—they didn’t have a lot of time to spare before they needed to get ready to go. “Coach!” Sirius called, waving down the hallway.

Arthur looked up at them and smiled. “There you are! Got your skates, Lupin?”

Remus blinked. “Uh, yeah?”

“Not you. Little Loops, did you bring your skates?”

Jules and Remus turned to Sirius at the same time and he hid a smile behind his hand. “Got ‘em right here, Coach,” he said without looking at them, holding his bag up.

“What?” Jules whispered and turned to Remus, who shrugged. “What’s he talking about?”

“You’re number…24?” Arthur squinted at his clipboard and walked closer to them. Jules nodded silently. “Alright, I think we can figure something out. You play center, right?”

Jules squeaked out a ‘yes’; Remus could feel him trembling with excitement. “I get to play?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow and bent slightly to his level. “Your brother never stops talking about how you’re the best center Wisconsin has ever seen. I wanna know if it’s true.”

“Sirius, what did you do?” Remus murmured as Jules struggled to take a deep breath.

“I may have possibly told Coach it was his last day here. Perhaps,” Sirius whispered back.

Remus shook his head. “You are the most incredible person on the planet and I’m going to kiss the daylights out of you as soon as humanly possible.”

“Love you, too.”

“Re.” Jules yanked on his arm as he jumped up and down, ramping up with every passing second. “Re, I get to skate with the team! I get to skate! With the team!”

“Looks like it,” Remus laughed. “Come on, practice starts in twenty.”

Not only had Sirius packed Jules’ skates, but somehow he had snuck all his gear into their duffels without either of them noticing; all the guys brightened when they walked into the locker room and Kasey waved to him from his stall. “Hey, Little L—”

“I get to skate!” Jules blurted as he gripped Remus’ hand hard enough to hurt.

James shared a look with Sirius—so you were in on it, too, Remus thought as he led Jules to his stall. “That’s pretty exciting,” he said with a low whistle. “How’d you swing that?”

“Coach Weasley wants to see me play.” If Jules made it through the next three hours without fainting from happiness, Remus would be shocked.

“You must be pretty good, then.” Leo grinned as he buckled into his pads. “Think you can score a goal on me?”

Jules hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll give it a shot.”

“That’s the spirit,” Finn laughed, ruffling Jules’ hair. “You got a jersey yet?”

“Nope.”

“Hmm. What’s your number?”

“24.”

“Yo, Ringer, you got an extra?” Evander Bell dug around for a moment before tossing him a clean jersey. Finn grabbed some stick tape out of his bag and tore two pieces off; when he shook it back out, a decent ‘24’ had replaced the previous ‘21’. “There you go. You might have to tuck it in a bit.”

Jules threw his arms around Finn’s waist and squeezed him tight, mumbling ‘thank you’ over and over again. Finn rubbed his back and looked up at Remus with pleading eyes—can I keep him? he mouthed, pouting when Remus shook his head. Logan and Leo ‘aww’ed in the background.

“Okay, bud, let’s get your pads on so you can enjoy your last day here.” He put a slight emphasis on the final three words and the rest of the team perked up, trading glances between their stalls as Jules hurried to change into his gear.

Thankfully, he already knew what to do, and within ten minutes all three of them were on the ice. Several fans pointed to Jules and waved; he seemed surprised by the attention and shyly smiled back. Coach’s whistle snapped them all to attention and Remus laid a hand on Jules’ helmet to keep him close, just in case. “Cap, you know our drills for today. We start our scrimmage at 12:30 and you get twenty minutes for a lunch break.”

“Yes, Coach,” they chorused. Jules’ answer was a little delayed and Remus caught several half-hidden smiles beneath visors.

“Over here, 24,” Logan said, guiding Jules to the starting line with his stick on his back. “You wanna be on my team?”

“I want dibs!” Talker called as he skated past. “Jules, who’s your favorite? Me, or Shortie Pants over there?”

“Uhhhh…” Jules looked quickly to Remus. “I don’t have a favorite.”

“Sucks to be you guys, but he’s on my team.” Sirius held his hand out for a fist bump that Jules happily obliged. “Right, buddy?”

“Totally.”

“Hell yeah.”

The drills were far easier than usual, even for an open practice, which gave everyone a chance to show off. They went through the motions, adding little flourishes here and there that the slowly-gathering crowd ate up; even Jules started having fun with it, tapping pucks back and forth with Pots between rounds and shooting goal after goal toward Kasey and Leo. He shone with joy.

When the lunch whistle blew, Remus tapped the back of his helmet lightly. “Remember that trick I did to knock Harzy over?” he asked under his breath. Jules grinned. “Want me to show you how to do it?”

“Duh.”

“Alright, c’mere.” Remus skated over to the far end of the rink, keeping an eye out until Finn was safely out of sight. “Plant your leg like this, yeah?”

Jules frowned, but did as he was told. “I thought you went right.”

“I did. You have to fake him out with the left. He falls for it every time.”

“Really?”

“Dollars to donuts. Give it a shot.” Jules wobbled a little. “Keep your balance steady…there you go!”

“Cool!” he whispered, looking up with a bright smile. Remus leaned down so they could knock their helmets together. “Cool.”

“Okay, time for lunch. You can try it out in the scrimmage.”

Jules practiced the motions all the way back to the bench, muttering instructions under his breath as Remus kept him from knocking anyone over on accident. He scarfed down a sandwich and downed a few gulps of Gatorade, which Sirius confiscated in case he drank it too fast and made himself sick.

“We’ve got a game to win, buddy,” he said. “Take it slow.”

“Scrimmage list is up!” Coach called from the doorway, tacking a sheet of paper to the wall. Everyone immediately crowded it; Remus shouldered his way through Kasey and Logan to get a good look.

He laughed out loud when he saw it. “Jules, you better square up!” he shouted over his shoulder.

“Am I playing against you?”

“Yep. You’re up against Sirius for the face-off.”

Jules’ eyes got huge in his head. “No.”

“See for yourself, buddy.”

“Does that mean we’re on the same team for once?” Sirius murmured as he leaned against the side of Remus’ stall.

“Looks like it.” He tilted his chin up for a quick kiss and Sirius tugged the edge of his shoulder pad lightly.

“Love seeing you in these.” He tapped the wooden shelf above them and grinned before straightening. “Alright, boys, let’s go!”

It almost felt like family skate again, except for the overarching vibe of genuine competitive spirit that spread through the team. Jules and Sirius skated to the center and braced for the drop; Jules dug his blades in, and not for the first time Remus was struck by how much they looked alike.

Sirius tapped the front of his skate, but Jules didn’t flinch from his laser-focus on Dumo. “He’s got his head in the game, Cap,” Dumo said with a grin. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

The puck dropped. In a flash of movement, both lunged for it; Sirius won, but Jules was hot on his heels as he skated toward the opposite goal, his face lined with pure determination. “Twelve!” Remus called, tapping his stick against the ice.

Sirius passed it, but Jules didn’t falter from his tail, moving to shadow his every moment. Remus passed James easily, but Talker stole the puck and turned it around for a quick move toward Leo, who dropped into a lunge and blocked his shot. The pace picked up after that and Remus heard the telltale click of press cameras going off along with the whoops of fans who had come to watch.

And then Jules started tailing him, the little shit. Remus did a lazy loop around the outside, then darted in to shake him—Jules reappeared moments later, a bit out of breath but otherwise fine. Remus took the puck out from underneath Logan and raced for the goal as a beautiful line opened up for him, but he heard the familiar shush-hush of Jules’ skates and braked hard.

He should have known it wouldn’t work. Jules dodged sideways at the last second, just barely missing the puck with his stick, then spun back around and chased Remus in a sharp curve through the defense. He heard several people start laughing as he lowered his center of gravity and took a hard turn; the chill of the ice burned his cheeks, but Jules didn’t leave him alone.

“Come on, Little Loops,” he taunted, grinning over his shoulder. “Come and get it!”

Jules grumbled something under his breath and pushed off harder, skating right at Remus with single-minded intensity. He saw his left foot lift and internally shook his head.

With a couple quick taps, he was behind him again. “You can’t use my own tricks against me!”

“I can try!” Jules shouted back as they flew up the ice once more. Kasey caught his shot. “Nice one, Loops.”

“Better luck next time, eh?” Remus knocked on his helmet as he skated past, still panting. Arthur was laughing so hard he had to lean against the glass while Moody patted him on the back and winked at Remus.

“Eight more years,” Moody called with a grin. “Then we’ll have two Lupins out here.”

“Wouldn’t that be something,” Remus laughed.

They stayed on the ice for a while after the scrimmage ended, losing 2-1 to Sirius’ team. Jules shadowed anyone he came within five feet of and was harder to shake off than a piece of duct tape—Remus had never been prouder.

“Harzy! Harzy, I gotta show you something!” Jules waved to Finn, who looked over in amusement from Leo’s goal. “Skate toward me like we’re in a game.”

“Sure thing, bud.”

Jules kept his eyes on Finn’s feet as they grew closer, mouthing something under his breath. No, Remus thought. Is he going to…?

He did. In one perfect motion, he picked up his left skate and pushed hard in the other direction, zipping beneath Finn’s arm and sending him in the other direction. “No!” Finn shouted immediately as Jules burst into maniacal giggles. “Absolutely not! Remus Lupin, get your ass over here!”

“That was perfect!” Remus held his hands out for a double high-five and Jules jumped to reach his palms. “Excellent form.”

Shaved ice coated them both as Finn snowed them, still scowling. “I can’t believe you!”

“Have you tried saying ‘no’ to the puppy eyes?” Remus asked, turning Jules by the shoulders and sticking his own lower lip out.

Finn scoffed, but he could hardly hide his smile. “You’re both ridiculous.”

“Indeed.” He squeezed Jules’ arms briefly. “It’s about time to head out, J. Do you want to say goodbye to everyone while I check in with Marlene?”

The unbridled excitement on Jules’ face dimmed a bit. “Do I have to go?”

“You’ve got school in a couple days.”

“I could stay until it starts again.”

“Mom and Dad miss you a lot.”

“Remus!” Marlene flagged him down from the boards and he skated over with Jules in tow, pulling his helmet off and swiping sweaty hair out of his eyes.

“What’s up?”

Before she could speak, a skinny man with large glasses pushed to the front of the group; Remus disliked him instantly. “Mr. Lupin, can you tell us—”

“Excuse you, I think she was trying to talk,” he interrupted, giving the man a stony look. “Hey, Marley, how’re you doing?”

“I’m doing fine. This is Craig Stearns, from the Hockey Daily…magazine.” Her smile was slightly forced. Tabloid. “He has a couple questions for you.”

“Hi, Craig.”

“When were you going to tell the media about your secret child?”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “My what?”

Craig’s eyes flickered down to Jules, whose grip tightened on the hem of Remus’ jersey. “Your son.”

“You mean my little brother?”

“You’ve been seen with him an awful lot this week—”

“Because he’s my little brother.”

“—and he appears to be living in your house—”

“Because he’s my little brother.”

“—and several photos show you walking hand-in-hand—”

“Do you have siblings?” Remus cut in. “I’m going to assume you don’t. My parents visited for the holidays, during which time there was a death in the family and Jules stayed with Sirius and I for the week. He was living in our house because I’m not about to put my ten-year-old brother in a hotel, and I was holding his hand so that he didn’t run into the street. Are we done here?”

Craig paused. “Can we get a picture—”

“No.”

Jules tapped his elbow and Remus bent down. “Can we go home?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah, buddy, we can go home.” Remus gave him a gentle nudge toward the boards. “Go find Sirius, okay?”

“Okay.”

Remus watched him skate across the ice until Leo caught him and swung him into the air before turning back to Craig with the coldest glare he could muster. “You can say whatever the hell you want about me, but keep my little brother out of your fucking gossip column. He’s ten. I better not see his face on some tabloid, got it?”

“Crystal clear,” Craig said with a harsh gulp.

“Good.” Remus looked over to Marlene and smiled, giving her a fist bump. “See you tomorrow, Marley. Say hi to D for me.”

“Will do.”

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

After endless hugs and a standing offer to play from Coach, they finally made it to the car just before four pm. They practically had to crowbar Jules and Moody apart—Remus was half-expecting the grouchy old man to run out after their car waving adoption papers, and letting Kuny figure out Jules was ticklish may have been the worst mistake of Remus’ life.

It was cute, though, seeing the puppylike love on his teammates’ faces whenever Jules entered the room. Jules clearly had a good time; he passed out cold in the backseat within two minutes of leaving the parking lot, still damp from his shower.

“Is it bad that I don’t want to give him back yet?” Remus asked.

“I was just about to say that,” Sirius laughed, glancing into the rearview mirror. “We could tell your parents the flight was cancelled.”

“They miss him.”

Sirius sighed. “I’m sure they do.”

“I still don’t want to put him on a plane alone.”

“He’ll be safe.”

“One of us could fly with him…?” Remus shook his head. “Never mind, he’d think we were treating him like a kid. Ugh. I already miss him.”

“We’ve still got an hour or so to pack.” They turned into the driveway and Sirius parked, but neither of them moved to get out. “This was really, really fun. I’m glad we did it.”

“Me, too.” Remus sighed and twisted around to shake Jules’ knee. “Jules, we’re home. You can sleep on the plane, okay?”

Jules took a deep breath and blinked awake, scrunching his nose up. “I don’t wanna pack.”

“I’m not doing it for you, so you better get a wiggle on unless you want to go home in just your underwear.” Jules was out of the car in a flash and both of them dissolved into laughter. “Oh, fuck, I didn’t think that would work.”

“Come on, he’s about to break the door down.” Sirius snorted and got their bags out of the trunk, then tossed Jules his keys. “It’s the one in the middle, buddy.”

“The blue one?”

“No.”

“The yellow one?”

“Are either of those in the middle?”

“…is it the silver one?”

“There you go.”

Jules got it open after a moment of maneuvering and they tumbled inside in a heap of hockey gear, locking the door against the cold wind that was starting to blow. Packing wasn’t difficult—Remus had put Jules’ laundry into the dryer the previous night and threw it into his backpack as Jules collected his books and leftover socks.

They were in the car by five; Remus was a little nervous about getting to the airport on time, but traffic was light and they arrived with more than an hour to spare. Check-in was easy, they made it through security without any issues, and before he knew it, they were standing in front of the gate.

“You have everything, right?” he asked for the thousandth time as Jules rocked on the balls of his feet. “Books, clothes, everything you brought?”

“I’m fine, Re,” he said.

“You’re not hungry?”

“I had a sandwich before we left, remember?”

“It’s a four-hour flight.”

“I’ll be okay.” Jules looked up at him and smiled. “I’m ten, remember?”

I know, that’s why I’m worried. “Boarding for first-class passengers and unaccompanied minors,” a smooth voice called over the intercom. Remus’ heart leapt and he saw Sirius stiffen slightly.

“That’s you, bud,” he said around the lump in his throat, crouching to give him a proper hug. He buried his face in the side of Jules’ neck and gave him a tight squeeze. “Love you.”

“Love you more,” Jules mumbled. Remus let go after a moment and Jules moved to Sirius. “I’ll miss you.”

“Oh, buddy.” Sirius kissed the top of his head. “I’ll miss you, too.”

“Say hi to mom and dad for me, yeah?” Remus added as Jules walked over to a stewardess in a blue dress.

“I love you!” he called again. Just before they reached the gate, he stopped in his tracks. “Wait!”

“What?” Remus’ stomach dropped to his feet as Jules shrugged his backpack off and ran back to them, flinging himself into Sirius’ arms.

“I didn’t think of a nickname for you!”

“That’s okay,” Sirius assured him. “I don’t need one.”

“Nicknames are for people we care about, and I care about you,” Jules insisted. He narrowed his eyes in thought before breaking into a wide grin. “Siri.”

“Like the phone app?”

“Exactly. Might need some workshopping, though.”

“Go catch your plane,” Sirius laughed, setting him down after a final hug. Jules ran back to the stewardess, who gave them a quick smile while she helped him get his backpack on again. They stayed in their spot, hand-in-hand, until the plane was nothing but a speck among the clouds and their feet started to ache.

“They’ll come visit soon, right?” Remus leaned his head against Sirius’ shoulder as they headed for the exit.

“They will.”

“How much do you want to bet Jules left at least three things behind?”

“He probably left half his clothes under the bed, but there are so many other things we’re going to be doing tonight that don’t include tracking down a kid’s lost sock.”

“Oh, really?” Remus raised an eyebrow at him and kissed his knuckles. “I like the way you think.”

“We already earned our Oreos, mon loup. I think we deserve a reward for surviving three weeks of constant family time.”

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mammonshuman92 · 3 years

Text

- Watched -

Mammon & GN!MC

** TW: Stalking, cussing, religion (ish? I guess?)

| part two | | part three |

It’s been nearly 6 months since you left the Devildom. You picked up where you had left off in the human world: college, work, home, repeat. Sure, you missed your family while you were away, but now your heart aches almost constantly for the new family you loved so much, that you had to leave behind. (Not that you really had a choice in the matter.)

As much as it hurt to leave the brothers, Diavolo was right. Establishing harmony and unity with the three realms won’t go over too well if one of the human representatives doesn’t go back to the human world, now will it? Still, it sucks. Life is so boring without all of them.

And quiet.

It’s not like you don’t talk though. Yeah, Diavolo has that rule in place where they have to take turns talking to you because “human’s lives are short” and they were “taking up too much of your time”, but that’s not really going to stop them, is it?

Well kinda, actually.

You can’t really argue with a direct order from the demon lord, after all.

Is it Asmo's day to call? You thought to yourself, trying to remember (not that you ever could) the schedule Lucifer came up with. Your own schedule was hard enough to remember.

You had been picking up extra shifts at work and staying late to study at school when you could. Finding any reason to stay busy or get out of the house. The deafening silence was too much to bear.

"I wonder when I can go visit? I should call Diavolo.." you said to yourself quietly.

You were walking home from your shift at the coffee shop near campus. The sun was just starting to set and the air was slightly crisp, causing you to pull your jacket a little tighter.

If it weren't for the brilliant pinks and warm oranges cast on the sky by the setting sun, it would've felt like a regular night in the Devildom. Memories of your last few days spent there came flooding back, bringing the sadness along with them.

In just one year, you had gotten so close to everyone, but you had gotten especially close to Mammon. He was responsible for you in the beginning of course, but the connection was undeniable (no matter how much he did deny it). He was a total simp for you, and you for him. It was rather cringey to everyone else. He could be a handful at times, but that tsundere really is a great boyfriend. Leaving him behind was... well, there's no words for it.

Rounding the corner, you could see your house perfectly. Now that the sun had gone down a bit more, it was getting darker and you were suddenly thankful that you remembered to turn on the porch light before you left.

You pulled your keys from your jacket pocket while climbing the few steps to your front door, and something caught your eye. Your stomach dropped.

Not again..

You plucked the folded piece of paper that was stuck in the screen door and quickly made your way inside, locking the door behind you.With a heavy sigh, you tossed your keys on the table by the door and dropped your bag on the floor beside you. You immediately went to shower and change not giving the paper a second thought.

Not everyone in the human world agreed with the Devildom exchange student program. After you and Solomon had arrived in the Devildom, there were numerous protests by a group much like the Westboro lunatics. They were without a doubt against the program and called for it’s immediate termination. Thankfully, their personal hatred was no match for the opportunity for the realms to find peace.

When you had returned, you noticed people whispering about you, calling you names and giving you dirty looks. You've even received quite a few pieces of hate mail. Granted, the people opposed to the program were very small in numbers, even if it didn’t seem that way. It didn't bother you though. Demons ended up being some of the most important people to you. Not to mention you were kinda in love with one of them. People could say what they wanted about the Devildom and about you, their words didn't bother you.

You were still towel drying your hair when your phone rang. Tossing the towel, you rushed to the living room to fish it out of your bag, Asmo's face popping up on the caller ID. You were right, it was Asmo’s night. You were secretly hoping it was a certain greedy demon’s turn to call (not that he doesn’t text you almost constantly.)

Asmo was the same as usual. Talking animatedly about this and that, gushing over new beauty products and outfits, filling you in on all the gossip you were missing. While he was rambling, your eyes fell onto the paper that was in your door. Might as well look at the newest piece of hate mail, right?

You began unfolding the paper, quickly giving Asmo an “omg!” about the gossip he was dishing (even though you hadn’t been paying attention.)

Upon seeing the contents, all the color drained from your face. You were sure your heart sank into your stomach, but you could hear the rapid beating in your ears. You suddenly felt hot, and the air around you seemed thick.

Then the adrenaline kicked in.

With shaky hands, you quickly checked the front door making sure it was locked, and headed to the back door to do the same. You rushed around checking the windows and pulling all the curtains closed. Everything seemed fine, nothing out of the ordinary. Still, that didn’t settle your nerves any.

“MC, dear? Did you hear me?” The sound of Asmo’s voice brought you out of your frantic state.

“Huh? S-sorry Asmo. I guess I s-spaced out.” You tried your best to keep your tone normal and steady your breathing, as to not alert him to anything. You really should give him more credit, though.

“MC? Is everything alright?” His tone was different, no longer playful and flirty. You could hear the concern.

Shit.

“Yeah, I’m fine. More hate mail is all. No biggie.” You lied. Maybe he would believe it..

There was a pause on his end, “You’re STILL getting it? Don’t they have anything better to do?” Good, he bought it. For now, anyway.

After about 10 more minutes Asmo said his goodbyes, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

This piece hate mail turned out to be something much worse than the run of the mill stuff you usually received. Inside there were pictures. Of you. At work, at school, the grocery store, ...outside your house. There was also a newspaper clipping that had a picture of you and your family, from when your parents first opened their bakery a few years back. There were red ‘Xs’ marked through everyone’s faces...

The only words scrawled inside read, “I’ve been watching you. You will pay for what you’ve done, whore. And don’t even think about telling your demon fuck buddies. I know everything about you and your family. It’d be a shame if anything happened to poor old Mom and Dad because their child is an unholy slut.”

You read it over and over, tears streaking your cheeks. Hate mail was nothing new, but now this? A stalker?

Maybe I’m just over thinking it. The other hate mail was spicy too. But these pictures... There is NO way I’m over thinking this..

“Regardless, I can’t tell the brothers.” You shuddered at what their reaction would be like. It would definitely make all of Diavolo’s hard work on the exchange program obsolete. It wouldn’t be good for any of the three realms. There was still a long way to go, but the program was a giant step in the right direction to obtaining peace and understanding. If dealing with some backlash and hate mail could help get closer to that goal, then for the sake of the greater could, you could handle it.

“For now, I will bear this burden myself.”

- {3 weeks later} -

“Are you okay?”

The simple question nearly made you squeak and nearly jump out of your skin. You turn and meet the worried gaze of your lab partner. You weren’t super close with her, so you knew your current state had to be bad if she was picking up on it.

God, do I really look that bad? You got a good look at yourself this morning, and yeah, you absolutely look that bad. But then again, you haven’t really slept in a few weeks. You had gigantic purple eye bags, your hair looked like a family of birds took up residence in it. Your skin was pale and lifeless, and you began skin picking at your nails due to the anxiety. You’d even lost about twenty pounds.

“Sorry, I guess I was spacing out.”

“It’s alright. It’s just- no offense, but you look awful. Have you been sleeping?” She asked, eyes scanning your face.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine. Promise.” You lied. She nodded and gave you a weak smile, dropping the subject for now.

You hadn’t really been paying attention to class today. Well, for the last several days, really. You’ve been putting in less effort for a lot of things lately. You’ve been slacking off bad at school and barely keeping up at work. Not to mention you never sleep anymore. How can you though?

You left class early and although it was still early in the day, you decided to skip the rest of your lectures for the day. You’ve always been a fantastic student, so taking a day off wouldn’t really hurt anything. And seeing as today was Thursday, you didn’t even have work today. Same as every week.

Upon arriving home, you were relieved to see that there weren’t any notes left for you. Yet, anyway.

Ever since the first letter a few weeks ago, they’ve been showing up constantly. Only a few times the first week or so, but now you get at least one every single day. They’re also increasing in severity. The sender seems to be becoming more and more unhinged with every passing day.

“Dirty demon whore!!”

“You’re a HUMAN!! How dare you taint your body with demons!”

“I will cleanse you and make you pure again.”

There was so, so much more. All of it growing more and more explicit with each letter.

The whole thing was taking a huge tool on you, but what could you do? Your family’s safety was on the line. You so badly wanted to tell Mammon of even the cops, but you couldn’t live with yourself if anything bad were to happen. Whatever this psycho had planned, you would gladly put yourself in the line of fire to save those closest to you.

The whole situation has also affected your relationship with Mammon and the rest of the brothers as well. At first, you tried to hide what was happening, but they started getting suspicious and asking questions. Always wondering why you sounded so tired and why you kept cutting their phone calls super short. You always rejected their face time requests, knowing that your drastic change in appearance would be alarming and alert them that something was wrong. Lately, you’ve barely talked to any of them. Especially Mammon. He’d be the first to figure out something was wrong with you and come here ready to fight.

That honestly didn’t sound too bad. You wanted nothing more than for him to hold you while you ugly cried. Breathing in his scent while he rubbed soothing circles on your back.

Your heart started to ache.

When you got home you decided to take a nice, hot shower to hopefully help ease some of your tension and possibly begin to get a handle on your quickly deteriorating self care status.

Once you felt somewhat normal again, you put on your comfiest pj’s (which included one of Mammon’s shirts) and plopped yourself on your bed in the fetal position. It was the only thing that kinda helped ease a tiny bit of the feeling that everything was spiraling out of control. The warm scent of your most favorite demon helped calm you.

*bzzz* *bzzz* *bzzz*

Damn. I almost fell asleep..

You sat up, rubbing your eyes and reached for your D.D.D. on your nightstand. The called ID made your heart rate accelerate and your palms sweaty.

It’s him.

“Mammon..? I thought it was Beel’s turn to call?”

“I don’t care about Lucifer’s stupid schedule. I need to talk to ya.” His tone made him sound like he was on edge.

“Oh, ok. What’s up?”

He scoffed, “Really? You’ve barely messaged me back in three days. The last time I called, ya hung up after five minutes.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I’ve just been busy.” Every lie helps break your heart just a little more.

“You’ve never been too busy before. Besides, shouldn’t ya be in a class right now or somethin’? It ain’t even noon.”

“I left class early and I’m skipping the rest of the day.” You explained.

“..Hmm.” He replied, you could detect suspicion in his response.

It was quiet on his end for a moment.

“MC?”

“Yeah?”

“..Do ya got another boyfriend? Cause The Great Mammon is definitely better! And-and, I’ll kick their ass!”

“What? Mammon, no. One boyfriend is almost more than I can handle.”

“Wha- hey!”

For the first time in who knows when, you actually giggled. It felt so good.

“So, you swear nothin’ is wrong? You’ve been actin’ so weird.” His voice was heavy with concern.

“Yeah, I swear.” Lie.

As good as it felt to talk to him, you needed to end the call before he ended up dragging the truth out of you. If any one could figure out what was wrong with you, it’d be him. The two of you had spent so much time together, that you can practically read each other like a book.

“I gotta go, ok? I have work later and I need to get ready.” Lie. But, you needed to get off the phone with him before he suspects anything.

“Yeah, sure.” He sounded so defeated. You could almost hear him pouting.

After a quicker goodbye than you usually have when getting off the phone with Mammon, you fell back onto your bed with a heavy sigh.

That was a little rough, but he seemed to believe it. I hope this will all be over soon.

With that, you quickly fell asleep, lulled by the memory of your demon’s voice. Although you wouldn’t sleep long, at least you got to fall asleep to the thought of him.

*bzzz* *bzzz* *bzzz*

Geez, are ya gonna answer or not? Ya always pick up on the second ring when I call ya.., Mammon thought.

Finally, on the sixth ring, “Mammon..? I thought it was Beel’s turn to call?”

Man, hearing your voice is like music.

“I don’t care about Lucifer’s stupid schedule. I need to talk to ya.” His tone made him sound a little rougher than intended, but it was all the same. He needed to hear you voice.

“Oh, ok. What’s up?”

He scoffed, “Really? You’ve barely messaged me back in three days. The last time I called, ya hung up after five minutes.”

I miss ya like crazy. Ya keep avoiding me..

“Oh. I’m sorry, I’ve just been busy.”

Huh? But, MC is always busy doing somethin’ and it never stopped em’ before..

He started getting an uneasy feeling deep in his stomach. He could tell something was off, but he just didn’t know what it was.

Is it ...someone else? Nah, MC wouldn’t do that. ...Right??

“You’ve never been too busy before. Besides, shouldn’t ya be in a class right now or somethin’? It ain’t even noon.” He didn’t try to hide the pout, that he knew you could hear, in his voice. His own thoughts were beginning to hurt his feelings.

“I left class early and I’m skipping the rest of the day.” MC explained.

“..Hmm.” He hummed. Thoughts started swirling around in his head.

MC never skips school, not even at RAD. Somethin’ is definitely going on. And what’s with the short answers? MC always talks like crazy. Maybe they’re mad at me?

It was quiet for a moment while he tried to sort through his thoughts.

“MC?” He asked, finally breaking the silence.

“Yeah?”

“..D-do ya got another boyfriend? Cause The Great Mammon is definitely better! And-and, I’ll kick their ass!”

“What? Mammon, no. One boyfriend is almost more than I can handle.”

“Wha- hey!” You giggled at his response. It was small, but he heard it. It made his heart swim.

All joking aside, he did believe you. Something was definitely not right with you though.

“So, you swear nothin’ is wrong? You’ve been actin’ so weird.” His voice was heavy with concern.

“Yeah, I swear.” Those three words caused his heart to sink.

That was a lie.. MC only says ‘I swear’ while tryin’ to act like somethin’ ain’t wrong..

He pushed his thoughts aside for the time being and continued the conversation. It only lasted a few more minutes before you started saying your goodbyes. Again, cutting the call short.

“I gotta go, ok? I have work later and I need to get ready.”

Hmm. Why does that seem weird?

“Yeah, sure.” He sounded so defeated.

There was, without a doubt in his mind, something going on. Something that would make you lie to him..

One way or another, he was going to find out.

“Mammon? Are you alright?”

Mammon was sprawled out on the couch in the common room. After talking to you, he was lost in his thoughts and feeling rather down. Beel passed by the common room on his was back from the kitchen when he saw his older brother. Noticing that he looked sad, Beel went to investigate.

Mammon looked up to meet Bee’s concerned gaze and with a sigh, he sat up.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Mammon said, as he stood up to leave. Beel could tell he was obviously lying, but decided not to press the issue.

Mammon stopped a few paces away from Beel, and turned back around to face him.

“Hey, Beel. Was MC actin’, I don’t know, “off”, the last time ya talked to em’?” He asked the sixth born, thinking maybe you had accidentally let something slip.

Beel’s face seemed to twist up a little bit, and he nodded.

“Yeah, kind of. MC used to sound excited when I called, but now they hardly talk at all. And they used to send me pictures of the food they were eating and new recipes, at least twice a day, but it’s been about two weeks since the last one they sent.” He explained, sadness in his voice. While in the Devildom, you were his favorite person to eat with.

Mammon nodded at his brother, getting lost in his thoughts again.

So, it’s not just me. MC is actin’ strange with Beel too..

Neither of them had paid been paying enough attention to see Asmo enter the room.

“Mammon, there you are. I’m going out, and I need my new bag from Majolish. The one I let you borrow. And i swear, if you sold it-” Asmo stopped mid sentence when he noticed the sad state two of his brothers.

“Is it about MC?” He asked, nonchalaunt.

Mammon’s head snapped toward his brother.

“What do you mean? Did they say somethin’ to ya?” Mammon asked quickly, taking a few steps closer to his brother.

MC and Asmo always gossip with each other, so maybe they’d tell him somethin’..

“Calm down. MC really hasn’t talked to me much in the last month. I’m so hurt! Who else am I going to talk beauty products with? Lucifer? Goodness, no.”

“Asmo!” Mammon said loudly, trying to get the fifth born back on track.

“Oh, right. Let’s see.” He put a finger to his chin and thought about it. “Hmm. The only thing I can think of was during the last normal conversation I had with them. They said something about receiving a piece of hate mail. They said it was no big deal, but I distinctly remember MC seemed flustered by it. Which I thought was weird, considering it’s definitely not the first one they’d received..” Asmo explained.

Hate mail? MC has only mentioned it to me a couple times. Do they really get it that often..?

“How long ago was that?” Mammon asked. He felt like he was on the brink of something. Just a few more puzzle pieces..

“Hmm, it was right before MC started acting distant toward me. So, about three or four weeks, maybe.” Asmo explained. That’s around the time you had started acting weird with Mammon too.

“So, maybe something happened to MC.” Beel suggested.

“No, MC would tell us. ..Right?” Asmo questioned.

Mammon was so confused.

What is goin’ on with you, MC?

After talking with his brothers, Mammon holed himself up in his room. He didn’t really want to be around anyone at the moment. His thoughts were driving him crazy and giving him a headache. What was he not seeing? What piece of the puzzle was he missing?

He started going over your last conversation again, for the millionth time, looking for any kind of clue. But, you seemed normal. Well, your new normal, anyway. Distant, short answers, not giving too much to the conversation. What were you hiding?

It was something about the end of your conversation, but what was it?

He remembered your small giggle. The memory caused a smile to break out across his face. It gave him a tiny bit of hope that you were still there. That you still loved him. That whatever was troubling you, wasn’t making you forget them completely.

It was after that though. You had said “I swear”, which was a red flag, considering you only say it when you’re trying to convince him you’re ok when you’re really not.

He sighed, and rolled over on his bed. He looked at the alarm clock on his night stand, numbers glowing an angry red.

MC is probably at work right now..

Something caught his eye.

Today is Thursday... MC never works on Thursday. I guess the schedule coulda changed. No, cause MC specifically requested to always have that day off for some reason. Delivery day at their family’s bakery, I think. ...MC lied, again..

Then it hit him.

The small little lies. Avoiding all of them, even him for weeks now. Barely talking when you do answer the phone. The way you always sounded so tired and out of it.

It had something to do with what Asmo said about the hate mail.

“Hmm. The only thing I can think of was during the last normal conversation I had with them. They said something about receiving a piece of hate mail. They said it was no big deal, but I distinctly remember MC seemed flustered by it. Which I thought was weird, considering it’s definitely not the first one they’d received..”

Mammon didn’t even know that you’d been receiving that much hate mail. Sure, you’d told him about it a couple times, but he didn’t think it was that bad. Maybe it was actually pretty serious. Is that why you’d been so distant.

Mammon got up from his bed, and began pacing around the room. He almost had it figured out, he could feel it.

Asmo said MC seemed flustered, so it had to have somethin’ to do with the hate mail they received that day, since after that is when MC started actin’ weird.What if it’s somethin’ bad. Like, bad bad.

He stopped pacing.

The thought of MC being in danger was...

Mammon grabbed his jacket, where it was thrown onto the pool table and left his room in a hurry. He was on his way to Lucifer’s study, mentally preparing himself on the way. He was sure he knew what his brother’s answer would be, but he wasn’t going to just sit here. He needed to know that you were, in fact alright, with his own eyes.

I’m going to the human world. Whether Lucifer allows it or not.

| part two | | part three |

#obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me #mammon x mc

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writinggarbage007 · 4 years

Text

The Captain’s Assistant

Chapter 5

Steve Rogers x dark! reader, Avengers x dark! Reader

Summary: After 3 years as Cap's assistant and being treated like nothing, you are captured by Hydra and everything changes.

Warnings: Swearing, dark themes, abduction, torture, cannon level violence, threats of sexual assault. Murder. Mayhem.

Will update warnings on each chapter.

Slight AU

3 months, 5 days and roughly 18 hours after abduction

The steady drip, drip, drip from the leak in your cell told you it was raining again. The last few months have been a nightmare of injections that made you sick and torture that the doctor keeps saying will unlock powers. You didn’t know if that was true but they had better pray to whatever vicious god made them that you didn’t get anything similar to Wanda. You'd level this place.

You heard the door squeak open. You wanted to laugh because they finally oiled the door. You wouldn’t though. After 6 injections of the dark red solution the doctor had moved on. Glowing blue followed. Then a toxic looking green.

When none of them had seemed to work they began the torture. Brock seemed to take pleasure in the beatings. You were pretty sure you were going to kill that piece of shit first.

The guy with the sandy blond hair enjoyed knives. You called him Astor the dickless. He had littered you with little slices trying to get you to scream. When you refused to comply he beat you until you couldn't stand. He would definitely be second to die.

They had tried heat, cold and electricity. They had been threatening to rape you daily for the last few weeks, but after whispered arguments with the doctor it had become clear he had other plans.

The last test subject had died. You were told that while the doctor handed you pills he said were vitamins. They barely fed you or gave you water. The only time they let you shower was when you were covered in blood.

As the team of assholes walked down the stone steps you felt something shift inside you. You moved to the back corner of your cell into the shadows and instinctively closed your eyes. It was as if your fear and rage were coming together to protect you.

"Come on pretty lady", Brock said putting the key in the lock." Or intel says the superhero squad is heading this way so we have to move.'

Looking in the cell he cursed."Where the hell is she?" He asked his men.

You stood confused for a moment the realized they couldn't see you. You moved cautiously toward the cell door. Still no one reacted as they searched the cells, calling the doctor on their comms.

When you were standing right next to Astor you eased a knife from his thigh holster. He didn't react. Slinking along the cell doors you got to where Brock was barking orders. Plunging the knife into his stomach felt so good you took it out and did it again. You whispered to him as he fell to the floor. "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Stab in and thrust up."

They men rushed to him as he fell but your goal was standing back looking confused. Astor the dickless never saw you coming as you slit his throat and left him in your cell to bleed out.

Taking his gun you shot the other guards twice each. Taking another gun and a few clips you headed for the stairs. At the top you turned left and headed to the heart of the castle. The doctor was talking rapidly in a language you didn't understand on his phone.

The shot to the head seemed to etch permanent surprise on his face. You almost laughed as you began to search for supplies. You needed to get out of here before The Avengers showed up. You needed time to figure out the power and how you were going to get revenge on them.

Revenge was sweet. As you slipped out a side door you looked at the phone you'd stolen. You were in the mountains of Virginia. In a castle? People were weird.

When The Avengers arrived at a transported castle in the Appalachian mountains they went in quietly. They searched and found no one alive. They took the hard drives and security footage. All the doctor's notes.

They were concerned when they got to the dungeon. You weren't here and the men were dead.

"Who got the drop on them?" Natasha asked looking around. "It doesn't even look like any of them tried to defend himself. Could she have done this?."

Wanda was standing in the doorway of your cell, eyes glowing red. She let out a breath and stepped back.

"There is so much rage in this room." She said looking at Steve with a frown.

"Let's hope she escaped." He replied trying to sound confident. Inside he knew there was no way you could have done this if the doctor's experiments hadn't worked.

"Capcicle I've scanned the doctor. He's been dead less than 2 hours."Tony's voice cut into his thoughts.

"Let's search the area. She may be hiding nearby after she escaped." Sam's voice came through the comms.

"Ok team. Our rescue mission rescued her self. Let's find her and get her home." Steve said heading for the stairs. "Nat, call Fury and give him an update. We're going to need more boots on the ground. For now, Tony get Friday to scan the area. Bucky searches the grounds of the castle. Wanda and Nat after talking to Fury search everything in this place. We don't know that she ran out. Sam fly over the area to see if you find anything that can help. I'll head back to the jet and see if Bruce can make heads or tails of these formulas"

As everyone took off in different directions to search Steve Rogers couldn't shake the feeling there was something bad following him.

#steve x reader #captain america #avengers x reader #the avengers #the darkness

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johnnycranes · 3 years

Note

Also, Norman & Kennedy?

Thank you, Amanda! More love for marvel otps <3

General:

How long will they last? - Til death do they part and even then they get a second chance sksksk

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - It takes a few months of getting to know each other but once they fell, they fell hard

How was their first kiss? - Their first real kiss was fiery and passionate

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Norman

Who is the best man/men? - Harry Osborn

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - Kennedy's sister and Charlie

Who did the most planning? - Equal, I'd like to say.

Who stressed the most? - Norman! He wanted it to be perfect for Kenny

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Spider-Man but because Peter and Harry are friends........

Sex:

Who is on top? - Norman usually

Who is the one to instigate things? - They both do but mostly Norman

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - They do fine

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - Norman likes to give more

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - Two

How many children will they adopt? - none, but Norman has Harry from his first wife and Kennedy has Dia from her ex

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Kennedy

Who is the stricter parent? - Norman!

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Norman

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Kennedy

Who is the more loved parent? - It's equal!

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? Kennedy because Norman will forget when fighting Spider-Man!!!

Who cried the most at graduation? - They both do!

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Norman. And let them try arresting Norman Osborn's children

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - Kennedy

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Norman

Who does the grocery shopping? - They have someone do that for them skskks

How often do they bake desserts? - A lot because Kennedy loves sweets

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Meat lovers for sure

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Norman

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Norman

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? - Norman

Chores: Skipping this completely because they got people to do that for them lmao

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Norman!!!

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - The butler. Sometimes the whole family

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Always decorate for the holidays

What are their goals for the relationship? - To keep their family happy and safe, balance managing a huge company alongside being a supervillain family

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Norman especially after a long night of fighting Spider-Man

Who plays the most pranks? - Neither tbh

#we love villains who love their families here #norman x kennedy #ship: every last atom

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years

Text

Four Times Nathan Proposed and One Time He Meant it

Hi! This is my humble contribution to @nolypats and @hockeyboysiguess campaign for Nathan MacKinnon for Hockey Boy of the Month. Please see their blogs for more info, also just because they’re amazing writers. This is my first time trying a 4+1, I thought it would be nice to put something out before the next chapter of Flatbush & Atlantic. It was genuinely so much fun writing this, so please let me know what you think!

Wine pairing: Rotari rosé. @hockeyboysiguess and I have started to pair all of our writings with their own wine, bearing in mind that neither of us knows anything about wine. It’s all about the VIBES.

4 times Nathan proposed and 1 time he meant it

The first time (February)

Jordan knocked on the door, a glass dish balanced precariously on her hip. She and Nathan tried to have a standing date night every week, something that wasn’t grabbing lunch when they were both free or meeting for coffee before she had to head to work and he went to practice. That was, unless there was a game. Or a roadie. Or a team event. So needless to say, the two had been a little strapped for “couple time” recently, and they were both feeling it. She had an article due the next day, a co-write about the use of illegal dark money in a recently-elected congressman’s campaign. Nathan had a long practice that morning and wasn’t feeling too up to anything that would require him to move too far from his couch.

He opened the door, giving her a quick kiss. “I pulled up a few movies I thought you might be into, but didn’t want to pick anything until you got here.”

“You’re so considerate, I think I’m going to swoon,” Jordan said.

Nathan shrugged. “I’ll catch you if you fall.” Deep down, he really was a romantic, though the boys would chirp him endlessly if they knew.

Jordan padded into the kitchen, setting the dish onto the counter and opening up the cabinet right above the toaster oven, grabbing two plates. Even apart from date night, it wasn’t uncommon for them to eat in; partly due to the fact that there were few things in this world Nathan loved more than being able to fly under the radar, something that was a little bit difficult to do when you wore the A for the Colorado Avalanche, but partly because in his own way, it was letting Jordan into his life. “What movies were you looking at?”

“Depends what you’re feeling,” Nathan replied. “We’ve got...Star Wars, Captain Marvel, and 10 Things I Hate About You.”

Her ears perked up. “The one with Heath Ledger?”

“That’s the one. Sound good to you?”

Jordan had always had a penchant for movies of the late-90s and early 2000s, especially if they were romcoms, and especially if said romcoms starred Julia Stiles. As a little girl, there was definitely more than once where she had herself entirely convinced that her life would turn out exactly like The Prince and Me. Minus, of course, the fact that the beginning of Paige and Edvard’s entire relationship was built on lies. Mainly, she was just really into crowns and big poofy dresses as a little girl. “Sounds good to me!” She said brightly. “You want a brownie?”

Nate craned his neck to look at her in the kitchen, looking expectantly at him with one hand holding a spatula. “You made brownies?”

Jordan giggled. “I did. I take it that’s a yes?”

“That’s a definitely, please, my God give me one right this second or I might combust.” She slid the plate onto the side table a minute later, grabbing two napkins. “Are these normal brownies?” Nathan asked, picking one up and inspecting it with a semi-confused look on his face.

“They’re triple-layer, it’s an old recipe for slutty brownies from when I was in college. Bottom’s cookie dough, then Oreos, then fudge brownie on top of that.”

Nate raised an eyebrow. “Slutty brownies?”

Jordan swatted at his shoulder. “I know it’s a weird name, just give them a chance. I know you’ve been feeling a little down with the losing streak, and thought you could use a pick-me-up. They were my go-to for breakups, always seemed to help the girls feel better, so I thought it might work for you too.”

He wouldn’t admit it, but Nathan’s heart skipped a beat with Jordan’s words. “Guess I’ll have to see,” he said, taking a bite out the corner. His face melted. “This is...literally the best thing I’ve ever tasted. Seriously, it’s so good. So good. Oh my God, marry me.”

Jordan flushed, turning to take a sip of water so he wouldn’t see. “I’m glad you like them.”

The second time (May)

It was 11:38 on a Friday night, and Jordan and Nathan were at a bar. To be precise, Jordan, Nathan, and pretty much the whole team were at a bar, plus what seemed like the entire population of Denver. Springtime meant playoff season for the NHL, and winning a series meant going out. Jordan normally had to pass whenever the team decided to hit up a bar or club after a win; as much as she would have liked to go, she was a journalist who kept a 9-5 job, which meant that she had to at least get some modicum of sleep if she was going to be able to function in the newsroom without an injection of caffeine straight into her veins. But it was the weekend, and she’d be damned if she was going to miss out on this.

For the most part, the fans weren’t making a fuss; there was the occasional picture taken or pat on the back for winning the conference semifinals for the first time in twenty years, but nothing out of hand. Sipping her Dark & Stormy, she looked fondly over at Nate, who was having what looked to be a very animated conversation with Burky. Already two and a half drinks in, Nathan was starting to act a little tipsy; while he was normally more reserved about public displays of affection, he kissed Jordan more than one as the night went on. Not like she was complaining. Picking up a refill from the bar, she scooted back into the booth next to Nate. He planted a messy kiss on her cheek. “Where’d you go, Jo?”

Jordan rolled her eyes. “Unlike some of us, I can’t just snap my fingers and have alcohol appear at will. I had to actually go to the bar for another drink,” she teased.

Nathan threw his head back laughing. “‘S’pose you’ve got a point there, babe.” He slung one arm over her shoulders. Jordan unconsciously leaned into his touch. “What’d you think of the game?” She wasn’t able to make it to every game, but was lucky that she could get down to the Pepsi Center more often than not. The Avalanche had beaten the Flames in 6, after dropping the first two games in Calgary and being pegged as another likely sweep, they had come back to win the next four and the series.

“Just trying to stroke your own ego, eh, MacKinnon?”

“Picking up some Canadian slang, eh, Murphy?”

She tilted her head. “Maybe, maybe not. But the game was amazing. You know that. You did amazing, Nate.” In the 3-1 win, Nathan had scored two points, an assist and an absolute beauty of a power-play goal that just barely squeaked into the top left corner above Rittich’s shoulder.

“Sure, maybe I do know,” Nathan admitted, “but it’s one thing hearing it from fans and the media and even my teammates. It’s another hearing it from you.” Jordan loved Nathan, but he wasn’t always the best at expressing his feelings out loud. She was the first one to say “I love you, to introduce him to her parents, to take just about any step forward in their relationship. It was something he was getting better at, slowly but surely, and it meant the world to Jordan that he was trying so hard. Maybe it was the liquor, or the atmosphere, or the excitement of the night, but it meant just as much to her to hear it as it probably did for him to say it.

Half an hour and several drinks later, the last few people left were trickling out. Most had carpooled to the bar, leaving their cars back at the arena to get the next day. Jordan would have ordered Nate an Uber and then just hitched a ride with someone else back towards her apartment west of downtown, but Nate was pretty far gone. And he was a cute drunk, all things considered, but she was on her way to sobering up and felt an obligation to at least get him in bed safe. Their car pulled up, Nathan clumsily ducking in ahead of her as she shut the door behind him, buckling first his seat belt then her own. They walked through his front door fifteen minutes later, Jordan dropping him off in his bedroom to get undressed before grabbing a glass of water and a bottle of Advil. Nathan was in his boxers when she walked in, struggling to pull a t-shirt over his head. Jordan laughed, walking to his side of the bed before gently tugging it, handing him the water and two Advil. “If you take it now, it’ll help with the hangover later.” Kissing his forehead gently, she turned to leave.

“Where are you going, Jo?”

She stopped at the door. “Home?”

“I want you to stay.”

She sighed gently, smiling at him. “Okay, I’ll spend the night.”

“No,” Nathan interrupted, grabbing her wrist lightly as she turned to grab one of his old World Cup shirts to sleep in. “Forever. I want you to stay forever.”

The third time (August)

It was the middle of August, and Jordan and Nathan were in Canada. He had invited her earlier in the summer to visit for a few weeks, and as soon as she got the time off approved, she booked her flight. Getting to Springhill wasn’t the easiest — she flew to Toronto, had a layover, flew to Halifax, then got picked up by Nate for the two hour drive to his hometown. He had flown out in June, about a month after the Avs lost to the Kings in the conference finals, so the couple hadn’t seen each other in nearly two months. Jordan wasn’t about to complain about a few more hours. His parents had been so generous letting her stay for two weeks, and hadn’t batted an eye when Nathan had moved her into his old room. “Just don’t wake us up,” his mom had said, causing Nathan’s cheeks to turn scarlet.

Jordan had met them a few times before; they had flown out for the All-Star game the previous January and had gotten together during the team Moms’ and Dads’ trips. And if she was around when Nathan was FaceTiming them, she always popped in for a few minutes to say hi. But she still hadn’t quite expected the ceaseless hospitality she had been offered over the past week. Maybe Canadians really were just that nice.

Halfway through Jordan’s trip, they decided to throw a barbeque. And by they, that meant it was Nate’s idea and he roped them all into helping. Jordan had already been introduced to a few of his old friends, they had gone out for drinks to the one bar in town on her second night, but she was excited to meet everyone else. His dad Graham was keeping an eye on the grill, Nathan had filled the cooler with drinks, and Jordan was helping his mom carry out the fruit bowl and salad to the backyard. Nathan ran up to his room to change right as people started trickling in, and came back to a yard full of family and friends. He craned his neck, trying to figure out where Jordan had wandered off too, before his sister pointed to where she sat with a few of his cousins.

Nathan opened his mouth, about to ask her something, when Jordan quietly brought a finger up to her lips. “She’s sleeping,” she whispered, gesturing to her arms, where a tiny baby was nestled, eyes firmly shut.

He remembered that his cousin Rachel had had a baby not too long ago, but didn’t realize she’d be old enough to travel yet. “Is this Natalie?” he asked quietly, sitting in the chair next to Jordan. Rachel nodded. For a few moments, Nathan was lost in the scene, lost in how damn perfect Jordan looked with a baby in her arms. They had spoken about those sorts of things — future things — enough to know that marriage and kids were something they both wanted, but this was the first time it had hit him, like really hit him, that that could be them down the line. Over by the fire pit, his mom watched, a soft smile on her face.

Nathan stood in the kitchen with his mom a few hours later, drying off dishes from the party. Handing a plate to him, Kathy shot a curious glance at her son, as if a thought had just popped into her mind that hadn’t been there before. Nate looked back at her, confused. “What is it, mom?

Kathy nodded out the window, where Jordan was laughing at a joke his dad had just made, balancing the last round of dirty plates to bring in on her arm. “When are you going to put a ring on it, Nathan?

Nathan wasn’t particularly prone to blushing, but he had been doing a lot of it lately. “I—uh—” His mom rested a hand on his shoulder with a knowing smile. “Okay, I’ll admit that I’ve been thinking about it.”

Kathy was beaming. “I knew it. When?”

“When am I going to propose?” She nodded. He shrugged. “I don’t know when it’s going to happen, Mom, but it’s going to. I’m going to marry that girl.”

The fourth time (November)

Jordan grimaced, breathing in sharply as she braced her elbows on her desk. Elisa, her friend who worked in the cubicle beside her, looked over, a concerned expression on her face. “You good, hun?”

Jordan nodded mechanically, opening a drawer and pulling out a bottle of ibuprofen, swallowing three with a gulp of water. “Yeah, I should be fine. I should be starting my period in the next day or two, so I’m pretty sure it’s just cramps.”

“Are they usually this bad though?” Elisa had always been a worrier.

She shook her head. “No, not since I went on birth control a few years ago, but who knows. The ibuprofen will help, and it’s probably normal anyways. I’m sure it’ll go away.”

It didn’t go away. Two hours later, when Elisa was finishing up the last paragraph of her analysis of the Broncos’ new coaching hire, Jordan suddenly shot up from her desk, running at breakneck speed towards the women’s bathroom with a queasy look on her face. Elisa followed, bursting through the door to the unmistakable sharpness of vomit. She knelt down next to Jordan, pulling her hair back with the spare scrunchie she kept on her wrist. “Jordan? Are you okay?”

Jordan shook her head. “I feel awful, El.”

Eliss touched the back of her hand to Jordan’s forehead. “You’re warm. Have the cramps gotten better.”

“Worse,” Jordan admitted, wiping at the beads of sweat that had started to accumulate on her forehead.

Elisa pulled out her phone from her back pocket. “I’m calling an ambulance. I don’t think this is cramps, Jo.”

Jordan didn’t have the strength to argue, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to anyways. The ambulance arrived ten minutes later, carting Jordan off to Denver Health Medical Center. “Any chance you could be pregnant?” one EMT asked.

“I could be, but I shouldn’t. I’m on birth control and my boyfriend always uses protection,” Jordan said weakly. The EMT made a scribble on her paper. She barely registered pulling into the hospital, nurses pulling her into the ER, or a doctor wheeling in an ultrasound machine. She was conscious enough to recite her name, date of birth, and insurance number before being taken into the operating room, and then a mask was placed over her nose and her world went dark.

The first thing Jordan did when she woke up was check the clock in her room. It was 3; from what little she remembered, she had been taken to the hospital sometime a little after noon. “Oh, thank God,” she heard from her left side. She recognized that voice. It was Nathan’s voice. He grabbed her hand — the one that didn’t have an IV drip in it — and kissed it quickly, smoothing back the pieces of her hair that had come out of the hair tie. “Elisa called during practice, and she told me what happened, but she didn’t even know what happened, and then I left and drove over here, but then—”

Jordan laughed softly, feeling a dull pain in her lower abdomen. “It’s fine, Nate, I’m fine. What happened, anyways? I don’t remember anything after I went into surgery, I have no idea what it was even for.”

“You had appendicitis, your appendix was about two seconds away from bursting.”

Jordan let out a low whistle. “Glad that didn’t happen. Hey,” she added as an afterthought, “I thought visiting hours here didn’t start until 4?” Jordan had visited a college friend of hers who had had a baby a few weeks prior, and could have sworn that she wasn’t let in until later.

Nate smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, they do. I couldn’t even figure out what room you were in at first. They wouldn’t tell me anything, so I told them I was your fiancé.”

“Oh, did you now?”

Nathan rubbed his thumb over her finger. Her ring finger. “I mean, it’s pretty much true. All I’ve got left to do now is ask you.”

“And get the ring,” Jordan added.

“Nope.”

+1 (January)

Family skates had quickly grown to be one of Jordan’s favorite parts of the season. She had loved the first one, but had felt just a tiny bit out of place; her and Nathan had only been dating for a little over six months, and it seemed like almost everyone else had known each other for years. But she’d forged some amazing friendships with other WAGs over the past year, trading babysitting duties for pies and meeting to watch the game while the boys were on a road trip, sharing new Spotify playlists and learning how to support each other along the way. The team had become her second family, even though her parents only lived an hour and a half away.

Jordan had been a competitive figure skater throughout high school and into college, so she was no stranger to the ice. She obviously couldn’t get out nearly as often as she had before, but her skates still fit and she could still land a triple salchow after warming up. She and Nate had been skating around for an hour or so, taking a break after some “friendly competition” where Josty had made the mistake of challenging Jordan to a race around the rink. She beat him by two seconds.

Jordan unscrewed the top of her water bottle, taking a few grateful sips before putting it back in her bag. “Babe!” Nate called from a few rows away, where some of the younger kids were gathered next to what looked like pastels. “Want to face paint?”

She smiled, raising her eyes playfully as she popped on her blade guards and walked over towards the bench. “You sure about that one, MacKinnon? I’m not much of an artist.”

He nodded enthusiastically. “It’s okay, I bet you’ll be great!” He was so sweet for believing in her.

“Alright,” Jordan said, straddling the bench and picking up the box. “What would his highness like for the design? Bear in mind you’re working with a beginner here.”

“Butterfly!” He chirped excitedly. “There’s been a whole bird and insect theme going on here,” he pointed at the kids’ cheeks, covered in bees, ladybugs, and one demonic-looking...crow? Was it a crow? Did they even get crows at this time of year? “and I wouldn’t want to break the trend.”

“We couldn’t have that,” Jordan agreed. Ten minutes later Nathan had a very blue, barely-acceptable-looking butterfly on his right cheek, but he was beaming like the sun as soon as he pulled up his camera to look at it. “I love it, Jo. Thank you,” Nate said, giving her a quick kiss.

Activities wrapped up not too long after, and Jordan and Nathan walked out of the rink hand-in-hand towards his car. They had moved in together two months earlier, and Jordan had been more than happy to move out of her tiny studio into Nate’s giant apartment, where you could see the Rockies from the rooftop on clear days. Plus, his building allowed dogs. As Nathan drove home, one hand on the steering wheel and the other tangled with hers by the center console, Jordan looked over at him, with the little blue butterfly on his cheek, and she suddenly felt so unbelievably happy. So unbelievably full. It went without saying that she loved Nate. She loved him like she had never loved anyone before, and never would again.

At the same time, Nate’s heart was beating faster than it ever had in his life. He wasn’t scared, he wasn’t surprised, but he had just realized something. He already knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Jordan. Nathan had realized that months ago. And he hadn’t been lying at the hospital, he had already bought the ring. But Nathan wanted everything to be perfect when he proposed; it couldn’t be rainy outside, because what if she wanted pictures? It couldn’t be too soon after her older brother’s wedding, because then she might think that was the reason why. It couldn’t be in the summer, because then he’d go back to Nova Scotia for the summer and his mom might scalp him for leaving his fiancée in another country. But, Nathan realized as they pulled into the underground lot, there never was going to be a perfect time. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wanted to be Jordan’s husband. There shouldn’t be anything stopping him. There wasn’t anything stopping him.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom,” Nate said as Jordan slipped off her shoes. She nodded. Nathan went up the stairs, but past the bathroom. He walked into their bedroom, into his closet, to the shoebox that had his old atom league medals. He grabbed the velvet box, opening it and taking one last look before taking a deep breath and putting it in his pocket.

“You want to watch SVU reruns?” Jordan asked as he ambled back into the living room.

His mouth opened and closed like a fish. “Uh—can I say something?”

Jordan looked over. “Yeah, go ahead? We can totally watch something else if you’re not feeling Law & Order, I think I saw Chopped on the Food Network, or Jurassic Park is halfway through…” She trailed off.

Nathan shoved his hands in his pockets, turning the ring box over and over. He bit his lip. “You know how much you mean to me, right?” Jordan nodded slowly. “When I met you, I wasn’t looking for anything. I had just had my heart broken by someone who I thought would be my forever, but then you came into my life and suddenly...suddenly, it all made sense. I thought I knew love, I thought I knew what it was to be in love, but I didn’t, really. Not until you. You bring me down to earth, Jordan, when I’m too far in my head. I know you’re on my team even when we’re losing, even when it seems like nothing in my life is going right I know you’ll always be there to pick me up when I fall. And I don’t ever want to take that for granted. You challenge me in the best way, you always push me to be a better partner, a better teammate, and a better man. I wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for you.” Jordan was tearing up, starting to figure out where his whole speech was going and hoping beyond hope that she was right.

“I know I’m not always physically here, but I promise to always be there for you, Jordan. I’ll hold you when you’re crying, I’ll buy your favorite chips when we’re out, I’ll pay the utility bills because I know you’re terrible with remembering dates. It was eight months in when I realized you were the one.” Nathan bent down on one knee. One of Jordan’s hands was over her mouth, the remote having long since been abandoned on the couch. “I can’t wait to see where we go, Jordan. I can’t wait to get a nice house with a big backyard, go down to the animal shelter saying we’re only going to adopt one dog but come back with three. I can’t wait for the day you tell me you’re pregnant, and we get to hold our child for the first time and I get to see you be a mother. I can’t wait for us to start our lives together. I can’t wait for you to be Jordan MacKinnon.” He opened up the ring box. “Will you marry me?”

Jordan fell on her knees, hands on both sides of Nathan’s face. “Yes.”

#hockey imagine #hockey smut #nhl imagine #nhl smut #nathan mackinnon #hockey #hockey imagines #hockey writing #nhl #nhl imagines #nhl writing

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hawks-is-kinda-chicken-little · 4 years

Text

Voicemail: Part 3

Hawks x reader

A/n: I swear I am alive, I'm just getting my shit together for college. Anyways have my half-assed attempt at a story plot. I stopped here because I'm going through sad hours and that was really going to affect the rest of the story if I continued, I mean it still might be i’m not sure. No clue how gently I feel like being to everyone's feelings for the last chapter (don’t worry I make myself suffer too).

Part 1

Part 2

-Part 3-

Part 4

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“Not alive at least. They never come back alive.”

Hawks may not have been in the facility anymore, but he could still hear the words through the speaker. After all feathers weren’t the only thing he inherited from the avian species. In-fact, a lot of predatory bird-like qualities were passed down to him, none of which were proving to be any aid.

Endeavor exited the facility talking to some of the other heroes who were caring for the two children. He looked towards the clouds watching the desperate hero who was barely able to flap his wings in a steady momentum to keep him airborne. Twitching here and there causing his flow to stutter. Feathers puffed up clearly agitated, but some others sharpened to a dangerous level. It was truly a pitiful sight. From the looks of it, Hawks was nowhere near ready to calm down. Hands were shaking while switching from clenching to unclenching, desperately wanting to hold on to something. Nail marks were indented in the palms of his gloves. Anxiety and agony evidently overriding every morsel of reason that survived up to this point. His eyes never stopped searching, gaze switching from place to place as light-speed. Endeavor could practically taste the burning red rage sourly seething through Hawks every movement. But, nothing Endeavor could say would bring Hawks from his agitated state. He had to let it fly its course. Only then would Endeavor be able to pull him back to one of the agencies where they could recuperate.

Lucky for the heroes, they had detained all the henchmen left to guard the facility. They might be able to strangle some information out of them. But, it was kinda strange that the main man would leave them there knowing that the heroes were en-route. However, as Rumi noted, leaving those men there perfectly diverted their attention from the escaping vehicle. A smart move on the abductors part.

The League was pretty pissed about the whole shebang. Torturing the earlier captured men in a more gruesome manner out of pure rage. In doing so, one of them squeaked about some sort of airport. Oh, now those two were in even deeper shit. Dabi was nice enough to inform Hawks about this new information though. Calling him over for a nice group beating.

“That’s all I know swea- ack”

Smack!

Blood splattered the ground, painting over old splotches littering the place.

Crack!

One of many bones to be shattered but the blunt head of the bat.

“I’ll ask this one for time- What fucking airport?”

Silence.

Crack!

“Hawks, the guys’ gonna be dead before you get an answer, or at least a feasible one,” Dabi grunted.

“Fucking hell,” Hawks cursed, slinging the blood dripping bat to the side of the room with an echoing thud as the wood teetered from end to end until it settled. Hands shooting to clench his golden locks in an iron grip. He squatted to the floor, head hanging low, trying to fight the urges of a predator whose prey sits before them utterly helpless.

A scarred hand grabbed Hawks’ shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. Hawks shifted his head slightly, just enough so that he could eye Dabi's own eyes from the side. So many emotions swirled within those baby blue pools of fire. Remorse, agitation, worry, and so much more, all together forming a dangerous poison. A poison which would make poor souls scream in agony for death. Something Keigo would be glad to provide.

Now the two might now get along most of the time, but when facing a common goal, they are not a pair to be trifled with.

The men in the chairs started struggles in the ropes that tied them to the splintering chair. Pulling hopelessly with all their might, but to no avail. Dabi and Hawks shifted their eyes to the bastards in front of them.

The hand, not on Hawks’ shoulder, was raised to the man's face level, resting inches away. Smoke began flaring from Dabi’s scared palm, small blue flames flickered around the heel as it heated up. The heat alone was enough to singe the man’s facial hair. Terror welled in the man’s expression as the hand was brought closer, making him whimper.

“Let's try this again.”

Horrid fumes of burnt flesh swirled throughout the air. The man was a tough one to crack, Dabi knew he would come around, he just needed a little encouragement. They got the information they wanted him. Hawks had pity on the bastard, taking a feather, slitting his throat with one quick slash. The other man could do nothing but watch as his comrade bleed out.

“Don’t worry pal, my boss has plans for you.”

No matter how much he tried to scream all that would come out was muffled sludge blocked by the gag. Dabi, patted his ashy hand on the man’s head before walking towards the door with Hawks following on his heels. The man’s thrashing only increased as he door slammed closed, leaving him with the freshly fried corpse of the other one.

“What’s the plan from here?” Dabi asked.

“If they wanted to sneak on the plane unnoticed, they would have to do it at night, when no one else could potentially spot them.”

“It's a private jet though.”

“Yes, but the guys said it was being held with other private jets.”

“Whatever, your dumbass logic gives me a headache sometimes.”

Twice popped out around the corner where they were talking.

“Please don’t screw each other in the lobby.”

“Twice, what the hell. I would rather set myself on fire.”

Hawks gave Dabi an offended glare. Dabi in return rolled his eyes, walking away from Hawks.

“Just hurry up. Go get your boy scout in line and save her already”

“Who said I was doing this as a hero?”

Dabi halted, back facing Hawks. A smirk tugged at the corners of his charred lips as his eyes darkened.

“You don’t have the balls to fly that far from the nest bud. Your stupid heroes commission the only things you truly value in society.”

Hawks glared, but held his tongue. Dabi glared back with just as much hatred taking a couple of steps back towards the winged hero.

“That damned heroes commission seems to be the only thing you seem to stay faithful to.”

“What the Hell does that mean?” Hawks squawked.

“It means you are more likely to leave her for the vultures before ignoring your duties to those shitholes. Oh, wait a second, that's exactly what you did.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Really now? So let me get this straight, you didn’t push her away, become a complete asshole to her because of them. Hawks at the end of the day all that matters in that brainwashed head of yours is that shitty organisation.”

“Shut up.”

“Fine, let's pretend that it wasn’t the commission pulling the strings. In that case, you are a really shitty person. I mean, you ARE the reason they're in this mess to begin with.” Hawks’ blood ran cold, Dabi gave an exasperated chuckle “What makes you think she even wants YOUR help?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Oh how you harm me with your words.” Dabi mocked

“Who’s fucking side are you on? Where the hell is this coming from?”

“Let’s be clear about one thing, birdbrain, just because I want her safe doesn’t mean i’m on your side. You fucked up. And that guilt is only because you feel responsible for her kidnapping, it isn’t because you’re disgusted with all the shit you put her through. So listen when I say-”

“No, you listen here, asshole. Do you honestly think I can't see the damage I did? I am not making an excuse for my behavior, looking back I can see how fucked up I was towards her. I was blessed with an angel, I had never in my life been genuinely cared about. I had never been so committed to someone, so attached to another person. Someone who felt the exact way as I did. It was terrifying.” Hawks paused face falling downwards, scrunching up to fight away the tears building up. “I didn’t have the balls to face her as time went on, so I did what I did best, I put up a front and moved forward. Avoiding our relationship, avoiding her, just because I was scared of commitment. I never bothered to think about the effects it might have had on her. I’m a real douche for doing it and I know it.”

“Shame what it took for you to figure that out.”

There was nothing sympathetic in Dabi’s tone, no, it was as sour as biting into a ripe bitter melon. Hawks said nothing, he was right after all.

“Go home Keigo. You're not welcome here right now.”

Dabi watched as Hawks turned and walked to the door. Waiting till he was about to close the door on his way out to let out one final stab.

“Oh and Keigo,” Hawks paused “when she’s safe, hope she realizes you’re not worth it.”

SLAM!

Dabi was pretty sure Hawks broke some of the hinges when he shut it behind him.

“Bastard,” He muttered, clearly not into Hawks’ delinquent behavior. Dabi stomped off to the bar to talk to the others about what to do next.

What the actual fuck, Hawks thought as he took off into the dusk set skies. Yes, he knows he screwed this up, Dabi didn’t need to rub it in anymore.

Taking out his phone, Hawks shot a text to Rumi informing her of the newly found information. It was always kind of surprising that no other hero ever questioned where all his exclusive information came from, but oh well. Hawks went straight for the place, not giving anyone time to regroup and set out a plan. It didn’t do much good last time and he wasn’t willing to risk it again. He had an hour or so before the moon set in place, if he was lucky he would make it there before anyone else did.

Wings soared through the clouds as he scanned the area below, searching for the facility. His sights locked onto a large gated perimeter, surrounding multiple runways connected to a couple of buildings housing the aircrafts. It was one of the many private airports in Tokyo, a place where the rich kept their collection of aircrafts. Hawks descended to a large window in the center of the middle building in the facility. The place seemed to be more of a showcase then anything, some of the jets looked like there were fresh out of manufacturing.

The place looked empty, no sign of any life in the facility. If it wasn’t for his abnormal vision he would be able to see anything in the pitch black room. No gates or doors were open, no runway lights shined behind him, no unusual vehicles were in sight. So either he beat everyone here, or he’s got the wrong place.

He was about to take back off into the sky when he spotted a jet that matched the description the man gave him. A sleek black metal covering, twelve square windows spaced evenly on each side of the jet’s middle, matte silver nose, blood red paint rimming the edges of the wings. It was big enough to carry a small army. The jet seemed a little out of place next to all the smaller, more compact aircraft.

It was clear the jet had yet to be tampered with. They must be waiting till the moon was at its highest to hide their escape. If that was the case they would be there for another hour or so meaning Hawks could have a look around the place. Maybe sabotage the plane enough that it might not function properly.

Using a feather Hawks carves out a circle into the glass, just big enough that he could fight through and not get stuck. The tricky part was putting the glass back into place so that the bastards weren’t suspicious of the giant whole in the window. But, he managed to do it with only a couple of close calls.

Though he was alone, Hawks still had to be careful nonetheless. Fingers felt around the side of his goggles in search of the night vision button. However, a glowing group of infrared blobs that only grew bigger by the second appeared in his sights. With great haste Hawks hide in the cramped empty space behind one of the two stairwells one either side of the balcony of the window. The tight squeeze forced his wings to fold into uncomfortable positions against the base of his back.

It stopped right outside the giant corridors leading out to the building runway. While his the blurriness of the image made it hard to fully make out he counted seven or nine of the now van sized blobs. The one in the middle was to first to make any sort of move, a panel sliding to the side as figures exited the vehicle. Others to the right and left followed suit. All filing out into the open, crowding to the center one. Though all the bodies it was he could barely make out a body hauled out onto the ground next to boxes gathered for the other vans. His attention was so zeroed in on the limp body that he didn’t notice the dozen or so figures heading for the corridor.

CREEEEAAAAK!!

The heavy metal scraped against the asphalt as it was forcefully pried open by the figures. They didn’t fully peel the doors back though, only enough so that a couple of men could head in. About six men entered the dark area, flashlights swinging around in search of anything intruder. Hawks scrunched farther into the wall, missing the beams of the one of them by millimetres allowing him to go unnoticed by the men. The continued their inspection, not very thoroughly Hawks noted, until they each gave a thumbs up signally to the others nothing was out of place.

“All clear,” One of them yelled out behind.

All six men then approach the designated aircraft. Hawks wanted to bang his head on the wall from his own stupidity, since he chose the staircase opposite of the plane.

He let out a quiet hiss of frustration; “dammit.”

Biting the inside of his cheek he started trying to devise a plan. Maybe, just maybe, he could sneak some feathers inside to take them out. So he did just that, sending one feather for each man and one extra just in case.

The men had clearly let their guard drop as they focused on their tasks. He had no problem maneuvering the feathers around them as they worked. Two men were in the cockpit, two in the carriage, one taking storage in the backroom, and the last of the six was making his way to the single bathroom of the aircraft.

The man made his way to the bathroom, stripping off his pants before pulling out a phone and doing some unspeakable things that made Hawks want to vomit in his tiny corner. The poor guy had no clue that he was going to be the first to go, Hawks literally caught the bastard with his pants down. A mental note was made to just leave the dagger in his chest, after everything he just witnessed with that feather there was no way he wanted it back in his plumage.

One down, five to go and next up was the storage guy. A feather hovered right above the back of the guy as he checked off boxes on his clipboard. Moving forward, but still sticking to the wall in order to give the feather a better angle to slash his neck. However, the bright colors contrasted with the white wall, catching the attention of the man.

“What the fuc-”

Swish

It sliced through the air, not giving the man any time to process the situation. Hands instinctively flew to his throat in a pathetic attempt to stop the life escaping him. Bright red blood seeped through the cracks between his fingers, leaking down his front as he wobbled on his feet. The harsh thud of a body crashing to the floor never sounded through the air as the feather slipped down the back of his shirt to guide him quietly to the ground. Once he was laid out noiselessly on the now red stained ground the feather took off to regroup.

They all stayed as flat as paper against the slick interior of the plane, making sure never to be in the line of sight. Three feathers arrived at their next destination, the passenger section. The two men were just goofing off. Neglecting their assigned duties in favor of gossiping like highschool girls. Hawks could help the twitching of his upper lip, sharp canines baring each time the muscles spasmed. Sexist comments were slurred back and forth between them as they talked about his dove. Feral instincts screamed at him torture them till they were pleading for death. But, he needed to keep his composure or else risk getting caught and that was not something he could really afford right now.

The feathers slithered down the aisle when the assholes turned their backs to one another. One feather took off to lock the cockpit hatch from the outside, making the two on the inside unable to interrupt Hawks. Both the men were facing the side wall of the aircraft making it easy to string two feathers into position to swoop up and dispose of them just like like the now rotting corpse in the storage compartment.

Swish

Hawks really wished he could have prolonged their suffering, but he had more important matters to worry about, unlike those sexist bastards. Oh well, he would just have to be sure to spit on their corpses later.

The last two in the cockpit worked to get the carrier up and running. Hawks could hear them from the two feathers locking inside with them as they ran their diagnostics. Just as the feathers were about to capture their lives the roaring of an engine coming to life sounded throughout the facility. Blinding bright headlights buzzed on pointing to the corridors as if asking to be let out.

CREEEEAAAAK

Hawks peered over the corner of the wall hiding him, he saw more men pulling the door fully apart to make way for the giant aircraft. With all the new lighting Hawks had to turn off the night vision mode on his goggles so he could see. Through the orange tint of his lenses he could spot [y/n]’s limp body laying on her side facing him through the legs of the surrounding guards. Her whole body looked as though they just threw her to the asphalt from the van door. A grimy brown sack covered her head that hung to the floor slightly supported by the shoulder on the ground unnaturally scrunched up by her neck. He could see the raw skin surrounding the bonds tightly wired around her bare wrists. What really unnerved him was the slow unsteady half-rise of her chest every so often. He doesn’t know if it was due to the bag covering her airway or the utterly traumatized state of her body, but it wasn’t hard to tell her lungs were starting to give way. There was no way in Hell she would make it through the plane ride. She needed medical attention and she needed it fast.

The shifting of wheels brought Hawks out of his panic as the aircraft propellers spun around in place, making the plane go forward ever so slightly. It stopped one it was centered with the doors in the front of the facility. If he slashed his feathers upon them it would surely arm the onlookers. Eyes once again shifted to the body of his dove.

Helpless. He couldn’t make a move without stirring up their attention. And if they threatened her, there wasn’t even a sliver of a chance he would make it in time.

TING

The sound echoed out from his pocket. The phone vibrated letting out another sound to alert him of a notification.

Hawks’ heart dropped to the ground as everything around him moved in slow motion. Heads took their time spinning in his direction when in reality they snapped his way in milliseconds.

He didn’t have time to look at his phone as bullets flew his way. Faster than ever, he took to the air, dodging the oncoming hellfire. Since all was turning to shit, the two cockpit feathers slashed the hell out of the men inside with zero mercy whatsoever. Using some spare feathers he sent them lashing at the tires preventing their second escape. He’d rather be plucked for everything he was worth before letting them get away again, especially not when they were so close.

His earpiece rang to life as he wound through the air.

“What the fuck is happening” a harsh feminine voice that sounded like Rumi screamed from the other side.

“Shit hit the fan, send help.”

That was all he could say before getting nailed in the right shoulder. Wings stuttered in shock, but adrenaline pushed them to keep flapping.

“Hawks!” She called.

He could barely hear her through the blazing bullets piercing through the air.

“Heading….. Minutes…… Endeavor…… Way.”

Static cut out sentences leaving him with only a couple of words from the other line. He didn’t have time to decode the meaning though.

In the midst of frantic maneuvering a blast of fire hit the window behind him sending him flying forward as a bullet lodged itself in his right thigh.

“Friendly fire!” He screamed behind him.

Now shit was really hitting the fan, Hawks thought to himself as he looped through the new hole created by none other than Endeavor. He made his way to the top of the building, the roof partially deflecting some of the ammunition flying at light speed. A new wave of confidence gassed his system with the brigade of heroes quickly approaching from behind.

“I know I annoy you, but do ya really need to fry me right now?”

Endeavor only grunted as he landed next to the winged hero, Rumi was soon to join them. The bullets had ceased to pierce the air for a moment, Hawks could hear the head guy yelling at his underlines like an abusive dog owner. Naturally they tried to retreat to their vehicles, but found the tires were lacerated enough that they were rendered useless. The yell turned into hushed whispers.

All heroes crowded up onto the roof, hastily devising a plan that would hopefully let them safely extract the beaten girl. Time was ticking fast as two beautiful lives were draining from the mother's body every wasted second. They needed to make a move and they needed to do it now.

“Fuck plans”

“Hawks don’t be rash”

Endeavor could get fucked by fire for all Hawks cared. He was going in sending flocks of lethal feathers to shred them while he used the remaining feathers to take to the sky.

It only escalated from there on. Quirks were activated from both ends, but the heroes had to be careful, they may have the upper hand power wise, but the enemies had a hostage. Hawks could see his dove start to stir among all the commotion, but his attention was quickly redirected as a first sent him flying into a wall.

In the midst of the battle one of the lackey’s managed to discreetly snag [y/n] and a couple of the packages into a small aircraft. All which were messily tossed into the back of the cargo compartment before jumping in the control seat. All engines were a go and it was off to the runway from there, splattering some of his comrades into the pavement on the way. Hawks wasn’t having it though, redirecting all of the feathers slashing around to chase the jet as it wobbled in the sky.

“Your feathers are going to do jackshit, GO!” Rumi encouraged, no longer holding back.

That was all he needed to hear, as he darted to the air, targeting with pinpoint accuracy. The door of the storage holder on the side of the jet cracked open. Opening more and more as the pilot tried to steady the plane in the sky. The jet lagged in the sky as it swerved to the side making package after package plummet out. Hawks was tailing the jet, but the pilot kept taking sharp turns to try and lose him.

Hawks spotted [y/n’s body starting to slip to the edge of the open door. One final turn from the unsteady jet was all it took to send her descending into the air. Hawks immediately dove after her, wings tucking flat to increase his speed, arms stretching out towards her, hands ready to snatch her at the first given chance.

The ground was approaching uncomfortable fast. [Y/n] was just out of his reach, fingertips brushing against her own.

His wings gave one last flutter against his back, pushing him just far enough to reach her forearm. Hawks latch his hand onto her arm hauling her into his arms before spreading his scarlet wings in an attempt to catch in the air. A hiss passed his lips as the opposing velocity strained the muscles at the base of his wings.

Just before the hit the ground Hawks caught his bearings, letting them at least land somewhat safely. He stumbled on the turf, the hand that wasn’t holding [y/n] shot out to the ground where he keeled making sure to not fall over onto her. They landed a mile or so from the gates of the airport.

BOOM!

Hawks watched as sparks erupted from an explosion a little ways from them. Looks like the poor bastard couldn’t fly after all.

His breath was heaving, the adrenaline of the situation still pumping through his body. Lifting his hand from the ground he untied the rope holding the sack over her head, pulling it off, freeing her beaten face. Scarce breaths passed through her cracked lips.

Hawks was quick to let the rest know he had her. Endeavor let out a sigh of relief through the otherside of the line. Rumi yelled with happiness. When asking about her condition, he was hesitant to say anything, only saying that he was rushing her to urgent care immediately.

Weakly she stirred in his arms, whimpering as her bound wrist rubbed the harsh unforgiving rope peeling her already raw skin. Hawks plucked a feather, slashing her wrist and ankle constraints, finally setting her aching limbs free. Tears welled in his eyes, partly because she was now in his arms once again and partly because she was suffering in his arms.

“Shhhhh, baby bird, I’m gonna get you some help okay?”

He couldn’t tell if she heard him, but he wasn’t going to bother waiting for a reply. Wings spread behind him once more, screaming at him from pure agonizing torture they had already suffered. Limbs burned, fire setting every vein ablaze with even the slightest of moments.

All it took once one more heart wrenching soft cry passing her lips to get the adrenaline rushing again. No wound or pain could hold him down as he flapped his wings aggressively through the thin air. He kept staggering up to the clouds and low to the ground. It was definitely not his smoothest flight, but it was doing the job. She was held securely in a tight embrace against his chest. One of his hands gently caressed her cheek with the thumb in an attempt to pass her his wordless love.

Some of the feathers started to give from those once giant eyes. Every feather lost was another piece of [y/n] drifting to the light of eternal rest. She was a rose that was slowly shedding its abused petals, wilting from the mortal world.

Hawks could see the hospital in his sights, in his moment of overwhelming relief he almost hit the ground, but luckily he was able to bring them both up just in time.

White doors slammed over as a body crashed onto the hospital lobby tile. The receptionist rushed over to the counter spotting the hero, wings clings around his front to cushion their landing. Looking at the lady in scrubs he lifted one of his wings revealing the beaten woman he cradled to his chest. The lady screamed for help as doctors and nurses flooded the room. A stretcher was brought in as [y/n] was carted into one of the back rooms, nurses flocking the stretcher trying to assess her state.

A separate stretcher was brought in for him. A light smile graced his face as he watched them take care of her while they hauled him onto the cart. One of the nurses was trying to ask him questions, but he paid them no mind, only watching his dove.

The smile quickly faded as he saw more doctors dash to her room, panicked expressions present on each of their faces. He tried to stay awake, he tried to hear what was going on, but the last thing he heard was a doctor yelling one word that echoed in his ears even as he lost touch with reality.

“CLEAR!”

Then everything went black.

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

Also I want to thank you all for reading this, it makes me so happy. I literally cried at all the love you all gave the first chapter. I wish I was kidding I actually cried.

TAGS:

@assassinslittlesister @anxiousgoddest @moonpawss @regularkacchan @austriasmariazelle @murkyrosewrite @hawksexual @imuziawi

#bnha fanfiction #my hero academia #hawks x reader #bnha keigo takami #boku no hero academia #mha #hawks #keigo takami

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angst-fairygodmother · 4 years

Note

Ultimate ship meme for Ryne & Derek?

General:

How long will they last? - forever (they are the couple I am most determined to give a happily ever after)

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - sloooooow burn, with added fighting against the feeling on Ryne’s part.

How was their first kiss? - Aggressive. Ryne doesn’t like losing so she problem-solves. By grabbing him by the front of the shirt and kissing him so he shuts up and stops arguing with her. And once she’s started it, who is he not to give the lady what she wants?

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Derek. In a big, dramatic, embarrasses the hell out of her but is also super romantic, way.

Who is the best man/men? - They fight over who gets Sean. Ultimately Derek wins, and Ryne asks a friend from college to be her Maid-of-honor instead

Who is the bride's maid(s)? - I have no idea. If I decide to have her survive too, Derek’s sister would definitely be one.

Who did the most planning? - Ryne

Who stressed the most? - Ryne

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - no one comes to mind

Sex:

Who is on top? - probably about 50/50

Who is the one to instigate things? - Definitely Derek.

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now *It takes them a while to get to this point though (for angsty, will be explored reasons)*

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - probably around ½ an hour

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - if Ryne had her way, yes. But she tends to get more than Derek does in reality, because one of his favorite things to do is to tease and/or spoil her.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - Twins. Completely unplanned.

How many children will they adopt? - None, officially. But they kind of act like second parents to basically all of their kids friends/the neighborhood kids, especially if someone’s having a rough time at home

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - it’s pretty equal since they’re dealing with double trouble

Who is the stricter parent? - surprisingly, Derek

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Ryne

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Ryne

Who is the more loved parent? - both. I can’t decide.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - I don’t really see either of them doing that

Who cried the most at graduation? - Derek bawls. Before and during.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Well, Mom’s a lawyer and Dad’s an ex-thief so...these kids are too smart to ever get caught.

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - Derek

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Neither. They’ll both eat pretty much anything

Who does the grocery shopping? - they take turns (Ryne probably ends up at the shops a little more often, because she’ll stop on her way home for things they forgot or ran out of)

How often do they bake desserts? - only on special occasions. More often once they have the kids

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - They try to keep it balanced, but Ryne especially would skip vegetables before meat

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - they are planning parallel romantic dinners. It gets messy

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Ryne

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - RYNE. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t try to cook anyway.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - Both, in tandem, or making it a competition

Who is really against chores? - They each have one. Ryne passionately hates cleaning the floors. Derek would sooner throw a plate with food residue out than scrub.

Who cleans up after the pets? - Ryne (and later the kids)

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Ryne

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Neither

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? -

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Ryne

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - they don’t have one

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - They go all out for Halloween and sort of decorate for Christmas

What are their goals for the relationship? - to always support and take care of each other, no matter what; to make sure the other person always knows how much they are loved/how important they are; to never take each other for granted

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Both, whenever possible

Who plays the most pranks? - I don’t really see either of them as pranksters. Their child on the other hand...

#that took a lot longer to actually fill out than I thought...#thanks for asking #I just am full of warm fuzzy feelings for them #(also look how quickly a little thought changed my mind from 'no kids'. But like I feel like they both deserve a big-ish family)#Derek Sandoval x Ryne Cassidy #OTP ship meme questions

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dumbwaystodeviate · 5 years

Note

Could you do a reed900 where Nines’s deviation is slow and gradual, with a lot of “software instability ^^^” Essentially, his first software instability happens when he notices just how small Gavin is compared to him and thinks ‘cute’. Software instibilies keep piling up with each cute thing Gavin does (example: kitten-like sneezes, can’t reach a high shelf and needs help, blushing like the damn tsundere he is). Stuff like that. He ends up deviating so he can kiss Gavin. Fluff please :3!

Nines assignment to Gavin had started fairly rough, the man was a fireball with a bit of a temper and a great distaste for the fact that Nines had been made his partner. Thankfully due to Androids getting their own freedoms and the harsh glare Fowler gave him he accepted this with a gruff ‘whatever’ and went about his day, regardless if the RK had followed him or not.

The android, for the most part, had kept a distance from the man to keep from irritating him too much, a suggestion given to him by Connor after the two’s last confrontation. Still, as work partners he couldn’t keep his distance too long, needing to converse and look over evidence as Gavin went though the tablet he had been meandering with while out at a scene.

It was the first time Nines had been as close as he was to the man, almost looming over him to look at what Gavin was pointing out on the screen. It was when the detective started talking with his hands that Nines finally looked down at him. He followed for half a second before he took in the sight. While Gavin wasn’t short, average really, he looked so small in front of him. Perhaps it was just that the RK himself was built big but that didn’t change much of his perspective. He could so easily pick the man up if he had a want to, look over his shoulder or even his head to see if needed.

His staring and looming didn’t go unoticed, snapping back to the case the second the man spun around.

“Hey! Are you even listening to me?! Fucking hell, back up a step. Shit that’s creepy.” The RK nodded, though hesitated on stepping back for half a second.

“Sorry, detective. I was just looking at what you were pointing out.” He really hadn’t meant to be overbearing.

Huffing, Gavin went back to talking though this time kept facing Nines, clearly not letting him get behind him again.

By human definitions, small things were considered ‘cute’. And to him Gavin was small. So that meant he was cute. A flicker of software instability ^ lit up his hud as a note of ‘cute’ was pinned to Gavin’s profile, Nines believed it was a correct assessment. Such a strange thought to have during an investigation, though he doubted that the man would take very kindly to this observation. But he had already noticed and it was a thought that presented itself every time he stood near the man, causing a warning every time he got too close. He would scan the warnings later that night.

Nines hadn’t put much thought into this note, nor the software warning, until a few days later when it happened again.

Doing what he always did when the detective wandered off for a break he followed, keeping with his predecessor’s trend of not staying put. Gavin had muttered a complaint of ‘lost puppy’ once, but after the first few tries had stopped trying to get him to stay at his desk. Some things just couldn’t be removed from the Rk’s programming it seemed.

Letting Gavin and Tina have their space to converse, Nines loitered around the counters until his partner was ready to get back to work. The talking had only lasted a few moments before the man moved to make himself a coffee. The conversation lulled as Nines watched him look for a cup, checking the counters before looking up to the ones above. A grimace marred his face as he opened the door, noticing there were in fact cups but with a dawning irritation that he wouldn’t quite reach them.

Nines watched as he jumped a bit, fingers barely touching the surface of his goal and muttering curses.

“WHY in the fucking hell did they put them all up there!? They don’t need to be there!” The RK could hear Tina giggling at him, causing him to curse again.

He gave him a few moments to keep trying, wondering quietly to himself how this human had been getting his coffee this whole time. It pinged another warning of instabilities, another note tacking to his to-do list simply stating ‘keep things in reach’.

Seeing as he wasn’t getting anywhere in getting what he wanted, Nines decided it would be best to help Gavin. Taking a few strides to stand by him, he easily managed to get the cup and hand it over to the detective. So close to the man again he could see how he might have trouble getting up there. He could tell Gavin was fustrated at needing the help as he snatched the cup, red burning from his cheeks to his neck, Nines could only swipe at the man instability warnings he got. Again, his systems prompted the definition of ‘cute’ at him, programming humming in approval and helping him out.

Perhaps he should go to cyberlife for a checkup. Perhaps he should put the cups higher.

As things got colder more and more people got sick, it was almost a given and certainly one in the DPD. It was often enough that they had gotten mostly good at fighting it off, though some still from time to time got it pretty bad and it was hard to keep it from spreading sometimes. Harder still was trying to not catch a cold while out in the snow, trying to find evidence buried below what Gavin had muttered as ‘Cold ass white bullshit’.

“Man, Nines, you better be glad you can’t get sick or feel this shit.” He whined, leaving Nines to wonder how he wasn’t used to it.

“Perhaps you should keep extra jackets in your car for such occasions.”

Mimicking Nines with a ridiculous mumbling noise, Gavin shook his head and marched onward, the RK taking his time to try and find any disturbances in the snow. It was going to be quite the annoying taste but thankfully he could stay out all day doing this if need be, what mattered was finding clues.

It was twenty minuets in when Nines heard a squeaking noise, and he stopped to see what could have made the noise. It sounded like an animal, a cat maybe, and if that was the case he needed to find it and make sure it didn’t disturb anything. Though for some reason he couldn’t find any sign of one during his scans even after a second pass.

Perhaps it was just a bird in the distance. Catching back up with Gavin Nines continued his work.

“Alright, I don’t think we are going to be doing much out here like this so lets get back. Tired of freezing my ass off.” Gavin was rubbing his arms at this point, prompting Nines to agree.

But as he was about to tell him so, Gavin sneezed and Nines Led went red. It was that same noise from before, not a bird but his partner sneezing. Nines’ systems informed him that such a noise was called a ‘kitten sneeze’ and as he sneezed again the RK’s instabilities shot though the roof.

“Fuck, there went my chances of not getting sick.” When he got no response, Gavin looked back to Nines. “Whats up with you? Looking like a dead xbox.”

Nines didn’t get it, how could a man that was so crass and temperamental man constantly be ‘cute’ like that? It was starting to dawn on him that the things Gavin did alone were not cute, but he himself was cute. Nines found this small bundle of grump cute. He wanted to tell him so but every red fiber holding him like a tiger told him to be professional, that this action was unreasonable.

Well what if I want to be unreasonable? He thought.

Coming closer, Gavin peered up at him -so small, so wonderfully cute- and tapped his LED with a frown. “Earth to Nines, did you bluescreen or something?”

It was such a cute look on his fact that Nines wanted nothing more than to touch it, his programming buzzing with a want and with a fight to hold him back. He was a android, one that should be better than to get such corruptions. But yet, here he was, banging on a red wall to reach the human that had been causing the impossible in his systems.

It didn’t take a great deal of struggle, with all the advancements he had it made quick work of the red coding holding him back. Gavin had been about to shake him when he blinked away the red in both vision and led, a small smile tugging his lips.

“No, detective. Simply finding new understanding of clues I had found.”

That seemed to calm the man down, crossing his arms for warmth. “Well spit it out, what did you find?”

Leaning down, Nines cupped both of Gavin’s cheeks in his hands and pressed a soft kiss on that pout he liked so much. “My clues have brought me to the conclusion that you are very cute, and that I wanted to kiss you all month.”

Sputtering, Nines got to enjoy the sight of Gavin’s face burning redder than he ever saw before, a muttered “I’m not cute.” quickly stammering out. Nines couldn’t help his grin, for he knew that was a lie.

#reed900 #Dbh Nines #dbh gavin #dumb ways to deviate #prompt fill #Ninegeddon

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dhampiravidi · 3 years

Note

Ship meme Chase and Caleb

General:

How long will they last? - sexually? Fairly long. Until Chase tries to kill a Son.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - Caleb did a lil bit after the Sons made a truce with Chase.

How was their first kiss? - On a bathroom floor, lasting 2 seconds. Not great.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Caleb

Who is the best man/men? - the Sons, regretfully

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - n/a (*cough* my OC? haha idk)

Who did the most planning? - Caleb

Who stressed the most? - Caleb

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Pogue almost wasn’t.

Sex:

Who is on top? - depends. Caleb usually does, though.

Who is the one to instigate things? - Verbally or physically? ;)

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - Are they Using??

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - yep, though Caleb’s more of a giver than a taker.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - um they can’t.

How many children will they adopt? - 1

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - it’s equal

Who is the stricter parent? - Caleb

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Caleb

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? -

Who is the more loved parent? - Chase

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - Caleb

Who cried the most at graduation? - Caleb

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Caleb (he’s a lawyer)

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - Caleb

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Caleb

Who does the grocery shopping? - Chase

How often do they bake desserts? - They buy them

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Chase; Caleb

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Caleb

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Caleb

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - Chase, but barely. He’s pretty smart.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - Chase

Who is really against chores? - neither

Who cleans up after the pets? - Caleb

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Chase’ll Use to clean, but he wouldn’t hide trash.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Caleb lol

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Chase

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Chase

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - Both

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Pretty often.

What are their goals for the relationship? - Keep the peace. Stay alive. Have sex.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - CHASE

Who plays the most pranks? - Chase plays a few.

#caleb: headcanon #caleb danvers/chase collins

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hikayat · 3 years

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ULTIMATE SHIP MEME! for jae and jong!

ULTIMATE SHIP MEME! // @clairdclunc

General:

How long will they last? Not subtly until death do them apart TT TT

How quickly did/will they fall in love? Past!Jae had fallen in love with Jonghoon as cliche as love at the first sight but modern!Jae actually fell in love with first glance too but freaking denial until he had his oh moment. So in conclusion, as quick as a second went by

How was their first kiss? Past!Jae: it is after he skipped evening poetry session just to go out of his way to declare his love for Jonghoon and so so eagerly smooches Jonghoon after declaration, needless to say the smooch was innocent and tender like his young age is--- Modern!Jae would share their first kiss softly, in Jonghoon's lab and affirming 'I choose you, you are more than good enough for me'

Wedding:

Who proposed? Jonghoon? Jaemin is too coward for his own good to get down on his knees (read: what if... Jonghoon says no? I know he won't but wHAT IF?!)

Who is the best man/men? Jaejin, the head of the department that he is close with and a childhood friend?

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? .... I have no clue on this

Who did the most planning? Believe it or not, Jaemin doesn't mind they get married as spontaneously as asking a priest to bless them without planning because he doesn't like stress

Who stressed the most? Between them.... who?

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? Bet their exes are not in the list.

Sex:

Who is on top? As much as Jaemin is a switch... he lets Jonghoon take the wheel?

Who is the one to instigate things? Just to rile up Jonghoon? Just to tease Jonghoon? Sign Modern!Jaemin up -- Past!Jae could never (he would self-destruct at his own attempt)

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? TBA? /SWEATS FACE/

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? Yes and Modern!Jae would demand for it (because he can)

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? Jaemin doesn't imagine himself having kids but if Jonghoon wants it? He could try

How many children will they adopt? Same as above; He still hasn't see the parenthood in him yet

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? He would take turns with Jonghoon

Who is the stricter parent? … He could never be. He pulls outs the rebellion card growing up so he might sympathize with his kids

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? If it gets too dangerous, it's him.

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? ... Coming from someone he eats bread for lunch for Jonghoon walks into his life... Good luck Jonghoon.

Who is the more loved parent? Loved = Spoiling them probably Jaemin.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? Both of them

Who cried the most at graduation? Maybe... none of them?

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? Jaemin without doubt.

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? Jaemin relies solely on Jonghoon, he once set his microwave on fire and had the firefighter came to his aid

Who is the most picky in their food choice? Not so... sure

Who does the grocery shopping? Could see them doing grocery shopping after-work

How often do they bake desserts? Tiramisu almost every other day Or whenever they just crave for it?

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? Maybe mixture of both

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? Jaemin because Surprise is something he likes to do every now and ten

Who is more likely to suggest going out? The two of them; Equally because walking their dogs is good time spent together

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? Jaemin.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? Jonghoon? Jaemin likes a little bit of mess.. sadly.

Who is really against chores? None of them is not against chores but for Jaemin he can start a gear late before getting into it.

Who cleans up after the pets? Equally divided!

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - None of them

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? HMMM if over-bearing guest I can see the two of them getting stressed

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? Why do I see it is the two of them doing this.

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? Equal time for the two of them sometimes Jaemin can take a very short shower.

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - Two of them. With their Pomeranian and Shiba

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? If the holidays are their favourite then always!

What are their goals for the relationship? - Making every day count and there is no such thing as weak hearts and illness. Just the days that count until the last breath

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - On lazy day? Both of them!!

Who plays the most pranks? - Jaemin: deleted internet.... and sleeping Jonghoon as dekstop wallpapers

#clairdclunc #( answer: shin jaemin )#;;;; imho this is it;;;;

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