#but once i finish things will hOPEFULLY speed up too | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aphroditesmoon · 11 months ago

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lacrymosa [part 1]

clarisse la rue x fem!hecatecabin!reader [boarding school au]

PART 2

summary: you were sent to a prestigious boarding school to be rid from your father as a burden, but when strange things begins to happen upon your arrival, you wonder what truly lies behind the school walls. And as you attract attention from an infamous student, your plans to lie low is disrupted for the semester.

warnings: basically pjo plot in a different font, wlw relationships and what that entails, artist!reader. warnings will be according to the chapter.

wc: 5.2k

a/n: part 2 will hv more clarisse, also I've never been good at finishing series, but here's to an attempt! Comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

The violent wind coming from outside of the car window sent a sharp shiver down your spine. You readjust your sitting position, pushing your school bag further away from you.

"Would you like to close the window, miss?" The driver asked, sparing a glance to your way. "No, it's fine." You assured him.

You have always liked the cold, it calms your nerves in a way. And for a day like this, you need all the help you can get.

Your father hadn't even been home to see you off for the last time. But you were kind of grateful for that. Usually you'd find it upsetting. But it was a clear decision that he purposely wanted you out of his line of vision when he had registered you into this boarding school.

Prestigious and highly acclaimed, he called it. Those were just polite words for strict and overbearing.

You have stopped wasting time trying to figure out why he hates you. Your mother dying from your birth was only the tip of the iceberg. Your whole existence is a burden to him, no matter how hard you've tried to change it.

I wonder if I'll even miss the hostility he's always given me, or the empty white walls of his mansions that have seen me at my worst and at my best. Those thoughts shouldn't matter anymore, you told yourself.

You've never been happy in that house, but familiarity, sometimes, was better than nothing. You fiddled with your crimson red tie that came with the uniform. What you could tell from the way you're dressed along with the down payment your father had to pay for you is that this place is an exaggerated babysitting place for rich kids with attitude problems.

You've been sent to many places away from your father. Summer camp, Spring camp, summer school and all that. But nothing this far away.

As per your research, the school seemed to be located far from the city and near the mountains up north. There are two buildings divided by gender that stands a few meters away from each other. Not that it'd be a problem for you. You've never been interested in boys much.

It was sunny earlier on the road, but the nearer you are to your destination, the cloudier the sky gets. "Looks like it's about to rain." You mumbled to yourself.

"That's normal here, miss. The weather here's always cold." The driver spoke from the front. You hadn't realized that he heard what you said.

It was a few minutes later when you finally see a large building from a distance. The view lived up to it's reputation even from a far. You feel your heart sinking into a stomach, the anxiety worsening.

This was it. This will be your home for the next 2 or 3 years.

Your driver speeds up once drizzling rain begins to fall down from the sky. You allow him to close the window from his seat and lower down the ac.

Feeling your fingers pruning up, you rub your palms together for warmth after reaching for your bag, pulling it closer to you.

The weather wasn't going to be a problem, and hopefully the people here won't be too.

---

When the car slowed down in front of the entrance, you let yourself take in the view of it all, girls ranging from your ages to younger, walking past of sitting by the stairs. All of them wearing the same thing that you are.

You didn't mean to make the driver open the door for you, but he did anyways as you're too distracted to stop him.

He moves straight to the back to retrieve your other bags as you step out of the vehicle. Some of the girls stopped and stared at you, knowing how rare it is to have new students here.

You couldn't tell what lies behind their long glares and gazes, but you had a feeling that they were eyeing you up like a predator does to their prey. Focusing on the large cream and white colored building staring you down, your heart whispered out a hopeful wish that you could just get back in the car and drive off.

You fix up your plaited skirt and turn towards your driver. "Do you need help to bring these in?" He asks.

You shook your head, immediately taking them into your hands. "No, I got it. But thank you." He smiled warmly as he shut the car hood close. "Have a great year, miss." He tells you politely before walking back to the driver's seat.

And that was the last familiar face you'll ever see for the rest of the semester. You lift up your hand in a tiny wave as you watch him reverse and drive off from the school ground.

You see him wave back before he finally disappears for good.

The staircase made it harder for you and your bags, and if you were expecting any kind eyes to offer some help, none came to it. Instead they all looked at you like you were stupid.

You counted the steps under your breath, stopping when you reached number 5, and then starting back again from 1. It was also an effort to keep your anxiety together, but at certain times like these, you wondered if breathing exercises are all lies made up by a psychiatrist to worsen someone symptom and continue to drive them crazy.

After a couple series of 1 to 5s, you finally made it to the top of the stairwell and into the open doors of the school.

If the rain outside hadn't been freezing your toes, inside was much more brutal. The school is air conditioned, of course it is.

When you said you liked cold, you didn't mean the frozen kind. The strawberry pink socks you're wearing aren't doing you any favors either as you breath out a tired sigh, full hands dragging your bags with you until you reach a tiny counter with the label "office" above the glass.

A teacher, or a guardian, sits inside, working on some paperwork. She looked up when she heard the rolling sound of the wheels on your bag and offered a small smile.

"You're new here, I take it?" You nodded your head and pursed your lips tightly. "Can I have your name?"

You gave her the information needed, from yoir name to your birth certificate. And once she's done compiling the necessary paperworks into a file, she stacks it in the shelves behind her.

"Here's your class schedule, and here's your dorm key." You slid the key onto your pocket and slipped the paper under your arms as you listened to her explaining how the dorm building is in a complete other side of this place, and that you'd have to drag your bags back down the lengthy staircase and walk another 6 minutes towards the other building on the left of the school. Not to be mistaken with the boy's dorms on the right.

You ignored the continuous staring from the other student as you forced yourself down again, and into the left.

The road to the dorm was nicely designed, a straightly drawn black and white concrete pavement in squares with grass on its side. It made the place look more homely. But of course, it wasn’t really gonna fool anyone.

The dragging became easier on the ground. You thanked the gods once you got to the other building once you spotted an elevator. Your first thought was, oh thank fuck for these rich assholes. And your second thought was, oh these are some real rich assholes.

There are less staring here since mostly everyone is already in school. You took your time walking once you're out of the elevator, reading the large signs of the dorm level names.

There are 20 levels to be accurate. And yours, unfortunately, is level 20.

You stood up straight in that elevator for what felt like a whole 10 minutes until it dinged open. Finding your room was much easier, you didn't have to walk very far to find your door. You used the key given to you to unlock the doors and pushed your bags into the room first before you.

You halted for a minute when you met with two strange girls from the inside.

Your roommates apparently have not gone to their classes yet and are still here. They looked at you expectantly as you stared right back.

"Uh-" your daydreams broke. "I'm new here." You announced.

One of the two laughed slightly and shook their head. "We know, we were waiting for you. I'm Harper, and this is Olivia." They extended their hands and you shook them without question.

"So, where'd you come from?" Olivia asks. She had beautiful green eyes and wavy blonde hair. Harper on the other hand, had dark hair and bold blue eyes. Next to each other, the two looks quite the pair. You began rearranging your bags on your side and taking out important things needed for your classes as you answer their inquiries. "New York."

"A city girl, that's nice. The difference here must be jarring." You snorted whilst you hang your clothes on to your small closet. "Very."

They walked out with you once you were done unpacking, leading you back to the school.

"The teachers won't mind you being late, with you being new and all that. But make a habit out of it and you'll get a penalty for it." Harper explained. "Penalty?"

They both nodded and kept on walking up towards the entrance. "Attendance is very important, this isn't public school, lying about health problems to get out of class or skip and disappear for more than 3 times, you could get expelled."

That is insane, you thought. "I didn't know they're that strict." Harper smirked and shrugged at that. "Yeah, I mean unless you're a legacy student, or your parents donate a lot for the school, you won't get many benefits."

Of course, even among the rich, the most privileged still get to escape justice and fairness. "Are you both legacy students?"

"No." Olivia snorted. "What's your locker number?" She takes a peek at your papers and moved right to your locker, opening it with ease.

"Thanks." You tell her while shoving your books inside of it.

"There aren't many legacy students here." Harper spoke from your side, referring back to your question from earlier.

"There are only certain families with histories deeply rooted within the school walls, like Luke Castellan or Silena.”

Your brows raises at those names as the three of you leaned back on the lockers. "Let me guess, they're brats who can get you expelled?"

"Worse." Olivia corrected with a sarcastic smile. "They can do whatever shit they want to you, and will not get expelled for it."

"But don't worry, half of them are decent, just don't piss them off and they'll leave you alone." You nod in understanding, knowing that it was your plan anyways, even if they hadn't warned you.

"Luke's not even entitled or mean, he's actually pretty nice. He helped me take out a book from the library once." Olivia added, wiggling her brows.

"You're just saying that because you like him." Harper scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Even if I didn't, he's still not an ass." The bell rang the minute her sentence was finished. The two girls groaned and started saying their goodbyes before they parted ways to attend their classes.

"Meet up back for lunch?" Harper initiates. "Sure." You told her before following her directions to pre Calculus.

Your brain still hadn't fully registered what just happened. You just made two new friends, and that is a relief. Though you enjoy your alone time along with some quiet and peace, that doesn't mean you don't get lonely or feel isolated. Having bad social skills doesn't exactly equate to joy wanting a social life at all.

You walk into the half filled classroom and scan the space for an empty seat.

Some kids up front started whispering to themselves as they watched you from the corner of their eyes, but none of them tried speaking to you directly.

You flinch when you heard the teacher's voice, booming through the classroom as she enters right behind you. "You're the new girl?" She drops her bag onto her chair and looked you directly in your eyes.

"Yes." The teacher hummed to herself and turned towards her other students. "Do we have any empty seats at the back?" She asks loudly.

"There's one, but it's Chase's." A boy responded. "He's not in today, is he?" He shook his head at her.

"Alright, you can sit there temporarily, I'll ask the boys to bring in an extra table and chair for you tomorrow." You thanked her and walked right to your seat.

Grateful to be seated at the last row by the window, you slumped against the chair, relaxing your back.

The kids at the front stop wasting their time twisting their heads to stare at you, and as the class begins, you tell yourself that maybe this isn't as bad as you thought it'd be.

Your first class ever had been less exciting than expected. You had spent the last 20 minutes of the class trying not to doze off.

Barely any sleep came to you last night, considering how nervous you were for this day. All the worries you've had were for nothing, so far it's all been a bore, and all you wanted to do was to crawl back on to your bed at home and escape all of this strangeness.

Get your shit together, you scolded yourself. You've been all alone your whole life, how different is it now?

The girl on the seat next to yours had craned her neck in your direction, trying to peek through your notebook. Instinctively, you closed over it with your arm.

She did not need to see how there are zero equations in your notebook, all replaced with doodles of flowers and frogs.

When all is hopeless, your passion is where you turn to. Life is suffering in parts, but you find that being able to make it into art, makes the suffering less painful, or at least, more manageable.

Your father had never liked how you prefer to spend your time in art class over piano. In fact, when you were much younger, he even took the initiative to throw out all of your sketchbook. You had to find time to practice your drawing when you aren't at home, knowing his ignorance for your privacy.

But here, hopefully, you'll have ample time to draw and paint.

Once the class is dismissed, you make your way straight into the bathroom, trying to get into a booth before it gets crowded. You caught a glimpse of your reflection from the mirror and cringed at yourself. For some reason, even when you're not doing anything, the school air still finds a way to turn your hair frizzy.

You ran into the small space with open doors and knocked it shut as soon as you're in.

You could hear footsteps entering in right after you're done peeing. A cacophony of running sink water and empty chatter fills your ears as you stood up to fix your skirt and your socks.

The zip of your skirt seemed to have an issue getting stuck on a piece of string, holding it back from fully zipping up. You lifted it up higher and pulled the string out before using your teeth to rip it off of the zip and waving it onto the floor.

There was a moment of silence outside the door just before you were going to exit it. But a loud sound of slamming doors and laughter stops you at your place.

"Lock the doors." You hear another female voice command. She was not shouting, but she had a bold voice that seemed fit for a leader, straight to the point and confident.

Any noise of giggling or chatting immediately died down the moment the girl and her friends stepped in, and now you wonder if getting out would be a good idea at all. So you stayed quiet inside the bathroom.

Your palms are held against the door while you lean into it, trying to hear her clearer.

"What did I tell you last week?" The girl spoke again. She sounded upset or the second worst thing, disappointed.

Another voice rose up in response, meeker in comparison. "You said to have it by Monday."

"It's Wednesday today."

"But I have it now!" The other girl pleaded. "I don't care. I asked for it on Monday, you're two days late." The silence that came after her words was worrying. It was only when she spoke again that you felt your racing heart slowing down.

"You know what you're gonna do right now?" She asks. Silence. "You're going to hand me the money, and then you're going to give me 20 on the ground, right here."

20 what? You frowned in confusion. Money?

You expected resistance, begging, or even defiance from the other girl, but you only heard a resigned sigh from the other side of the door.

The door creaked slightly. You tried to balance yourself away from it when you accidentally slipped. Your fingers reach for the door handle to pull yourself up, and just when you thought it couldn't get worse, the door slams back on its hinges. You cursed yourself internally.

"What the fuck." The first girl snapped. "Booth number 2." She called out. "Get out of there right now or I'll break the door now."

Your breath hitches at the direct interaction and your hands hesitate to unlock the booth. But you'd rather get it over with than risk being taunted in a toilet.

You unlatch the lock with your fingers and slowly pull open the door. The first face you're met with is the one you assume who had addressed you seconds ago.

She had a naturally terrifying expression, with her brows knitted together and her hair pulled up in a ponytail. The bronze skinned girl connecting her gaze to yours.

The staring did not last as she soon started eyeing you up and down like she's analyzing every bad decision you've ever made.

But when she lifts her head back up to your face, you noticed that her frowning had lessened slightly. "You're new." She states aloud.

"How'd you know?" You ask her. "Anyone who's been here for more than a week would have the mind to run out of the bathroom as soon as they heard me." She answered coolly, taking a few steps nearer to you.

"What's your name?" She asks you. You tell her your first name.

She hums in acknowledgement before repeating your name, letting the syllables roll against her tongue. "I assume you haven't been making any friends yet, have you?"

You tried not to look to her side at the girl that was currently half squatting on the floor. "You're making her do push ups." You think aloud, ignoring her question.

"What? Oh, her? She's not important, and she's lucky i’m only making her do 25." The girl waved off like it's a silly joke. "I thought you said 20?" The other girl muttered under her breath.

She snapped her head at the younger girl and glared at her. "One more word and I'll make it 30."

Turning her head back to you, the anger she bore dissolved. "It's a good thing you've met me," she started. "In this place, it's all about making the right type of friends, just in case and not enemies."

"I don't plan on making enemies." You tell her. She was trying to intimidate you. Or at least, ruffle your feathers.

"No one does, but they just do it anyways without realizing." She answers with a shrug.

"And I suppose, if I'm with you, I won't fall down that road?" You didn't mean for it to sound insulting or sarcastic, but when she raised a brow in response, a ghost of smirk over her face, you realized that it was too late to take back your words.

"No, you won't. Because I am that enemy that you should be avoiding." You wondered if she is one of those people that's all talk and no bite, but the way she's folding her arms together as she stands inches away from you, radiated something much more sinister than you'd expect from a typical bully.

"I have to go." You say suddenly, a sense of urgency filled you when you remembered that Harper and Olivia would be waiting for you in the cafeteria. "I won't tell anyone about this." You added, trying to make sure there'd be no bad blood between the two of you.

"You can tell anyone you'd like, it wouldn't matter." She replies, stepping away from you to lean her back on the sink counter.

You clicked your heels away from her and made your way out, taking off the locks before you could swing the door open. You could feel her gaze on you as you left, but didn't twist your head back to confirm.

It didn't matter who she was. A few hours from now you'd forget you even met her, and just like always, you'll blend in with the crowd and be out of her sight.

---

"Where have you been?" Harper inquired once you sat next to her.

She had half a donut in her mouth as she asked this. "Don't talk with your mouth full." You chided her. She groans and mumbles something else you can't understand but chews the food until she's finished before she speaks again.

"We waited for like 10 minutes, you know recess isn't that long." You took a bite of your own sandwich and shrugged at her like nothing. "I was in the bathroom, there was a line." Harper nodded in understanding, but Olivia made a face of disgust as she toyed with her food.

"I hate the bathroom here, the dorm bathrooms are better." She said.

"What if you really need to pee?" You ask in disbelief. "I hold it in."

"What if you had explosive diarrhea?"

"Well, that would suck." Harper chokes out laugh, trying not to spit out her donut. You joined her with a chuckle, shaking your head at your friend.

"Your fear of public bathrooms will be the death of you." Harper quipped after taking a long sip of water. "I think it makes me stronger." Olivia argues.

"Well, I think it's gonna mess with your bladder." The brunette argues back. You listen to their back and forth until the bell rings again, indicating the end of recess.

You were a bit bummed that your classes aren't aligned with theirs, your nerves are much less triggered when they're around, a sense of familiarity of a sort.

Though, there was nothing you can do about it. You say your goodbyes at your lockers and parted ways again for your last 2 classes. The rest of school time was made bearable with the reminder that you at least shared rooms with your two new friends, and so there was nothing to worry about at all actually.

A part of you feels safer when you're around them. Though your mind is constantly bringing up the girl you've met in the bathroom. Her brown eyes and the way she looked at you.

She didn't strike you as someone admirable, but you had to admit, her features were remarkable. You had pulled out a pencil and a paper for a quick sketch of her eyes during Literature class.

It only hit you then, that you haven't even asked for her name. She knew yours, but you didn't know hers.

What would it matter? You asked yourself. If all goes well, you'll never see her for the whole semester at all. And she'd be nothing more than another face in your sketchbook.

You paid attention to the lesson, but your hands just needed something to work on while you were listening. Tapping your fingers repeatedly on the table was getting old, so you got productive and drew up a little something.

You had managed only half of her face on the paper by the time the class ended. Slipping the book into your tote bag, you follow the rush of students leaving class and heading back to your locker to switch your books for the last class.

It was 8pm when you were finally in the dorm elevator, back against the cold silver metal, relieving the warmth that radiated off of your body. The gym here is open all day and night, and even if the only equipment they had was a treadmill, you intended to utilise them fully.

Working out helps to take your mind off things, and it tires you out enough to help you sleep easier at night.

And so while everyone went back to their dorms, you stashed your bag by the gym entrance and tied your hair back up and went ahead for a good 40 minutes run.

You kept your eyes on the elevator level, watching the number get higher and higher until it eventually reached 20. It dinged open and allows you out with your poor tired feet and worn out expression.

It was quiet on the top floor, nothing like you’d predict what with the hour still being early. The small light bulbs above your head led you straight down the long corridor until you reached your room.

You took out your key and slashed it into the keyhole and heard your friends’ voices evolving from muffled noises into a clearer state as you pushed the door open.

You expected the girls to scold you over your absence again, as you do make it a habit of going places without letting them know, but what you didn't expect once you enter your dorm room, is for them to genuinely fret over your late arrival.

"You can't just disappear without telling anyone!" Olivia exclaimed, her large green eyes staring into your soul as you took your uniform off. "I was at the gym." You explained.

“In your school clothes?” Harper scrunches her nose in disagreement. “Hey, it's convenient.” You retorted.

"Were there other people there?" You shook your head no. "Well, maybe next time we'll go with you. I know you're not used to the unspoken rules here, but there are seriously more creeps than you can imagine in this place."

They were both sitting on their beds as they're talking to you, fully dressed in their matching pajamas like twins.

Harper had a face mask on as she rested her head on her pillows, her elbows used to help her sit up. They had music playing in the background, a song you recognized as Tourniquet by Evanescence. “I love this song.” You say randomly.

“Don’t change the subject.” You look over at them in confusion once you're finished changing.

"I didn't know it'd be such a big deal, I'm doing what everyone else does."

"I know, but I'm just saying, maybe we should all just play it safe for the semester. We don’t want another Samara accident." Harper reasoned.

You walked over to sit by the edge of her bed and asked her who's Samara.

"Samara Turner. She's a senior from last year. Some kid found her passed out by the back garden, her eyes were rolled back, and she was basically frothing from the mouth. When the ambulance came, it was too late. She was gone."

“Are you just making this up to scare me?” You ask them suspiciously. “No!” Olivia denies. “It's a real story, the teachers covered it up real good for future students, not even the news got a hold of Samara's fate.”

"Does anyone know what really happened?" You questioned them.

"The police ruled it as an overdose, but I can't imagine any type of drug running through her veins. And also, in the garden? That's just weird." Olivia says, shaking her head in disbelief.

"You guys think someone drugged her?" Harper shrugged and pursed her lips, inconclusive.

"Either way. It happened when she was alone. What was she even doing in the garden late at night? No one knows. But everyone will point their finger right back at her and say it's her own fault." You understood what they meant. This place isn't as picture perfect as it seemed, just like any other place, it has its holes and flaws.

"Okay, the next time I'm going anywhere other than my classes, I'll let one of you know." Harper and Olivia smiled and looked relieved. You could tell they were satisfied by your answer. "And if we're going anywhere, we'll tell you."

"Okay." You assured them.

You've never really known what it was like to have people worry over you this way. Most of the time, people were grateful when you minded your own business and hid away. And sure there is a little bit of annoyance that comes with being scolded like a child, but it also felt good to have someone care for you this way.

You folded your knees onto your chest, repositioning yourself on her bed. It is only after you move closer to her that you notice your sketchbook on her side table.

"Where'd you find that?" You jolted up, eyes widening..

"Oh, this is another thing we wanted to ask you about." Harper exclaimed, stretching her arm towards the book and passing it over to you. "Clarisse came over here like 15 minutes ago, said you dropped this."

"Who's Clarisse?" You frowned.

"Oh that's funny, you don't know who Clarisse is, and yet she's talking about you like you've been friends for ages." Harper says it like a mother hen catching her daughter red handed, but you're only further confused.

"No, seriously. Who's Clarisse?"

Olivia sighed from her bed and waved her hand exaggeratedly. "Curly hair, dark skin, looks like she can dropkick you in 6 different ways." Instantly, something in your brain clicked.

"Oh, her." Their expression changed into curiosity as they await for you to add more.

"I...met her in the bathroom. She was making a kid do pushups. But we barely talked, I just left."

"Yeah well, she asked where you were when she came by, and we told her we didn't know. And then she gave me this." You opened the book and found that the page with her face on has been ripped away.

Something eats away at your heart when you saw the torn pages, but you said nothing and instead just tossed the book onto your own bed. "What's her deal anyways." You huffed.

"Legacy students, they're all a little entitled like that, her more than others." Olivia answered.

"Oh, she's entitled alright." You muttered to yourself and rolled your eyes.

"I think I'm just gonna go catch up on homework now, unless there's anything else you two want to nag me on." Harper snorted and shoved you playfully but still smiled.

"No, no more nagging." Olivia concluded.

#clarisse pjo #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x reader #pjo series #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #dior goodjohn #dior goodjohn x reader

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eunbitchh · 1 year ago

Text

take a ride with me

*18+ MDNI*

word count: 2k

pairing: non!idol au, biker!ningning x fem!reader (she/her pronouns used, referred to as a girl)

warnings: fingering, clit slapping (like once), degradation, praise, orgasm denial, temp play? (cold ass rings, it’s cold outside ig), mild exhibitionism? (there’s nobody there but yall are fucking outside lol)

based off of a lyric from this song;

1 am gas station snack runs have become a pretty regular routine for you, the reason being so you’d hopefully get the chance to see the hot biker girl you’d seen the first time you went. you always did, she’d always pull into the parking lot when you were finishing checking out, diverting your attention from the cashier asking if you needed a receipt or not while you instead decided to check out something- someone- much more intriguing. there she was, as per usual. black denim clad legs and a leather jacket that made your head reel, removing her helmet with effortless grace that let her now helmet disheveled hair cascade over her shoulders.

the sound of the cashier clearing their throat snapped you out of your shameless staring.

“do you need a receipt or not?” the bored voice asked you dryly

“uh- no. thanks” you respond a little embarassed at having been so lost in your head while you stared at the girl outside. you grabbed your things and made your way to the door to leave, the cool night air immediately brushing over you skin causing you to shiver. you were starting to walk past the girl to go back in the direction of your house when you heard an unfamiliar voice speak to you.

“so when are you actually going to talk to me instead of ogling me from afar like a creep and i pretend i don’t notice?”

shit

“w-what?” you asked, stuttering in disbelief now turning to look at the source of the voice- it was her. of course it was. could your luck get any worse?

she crossed her arms over her chest and looked at you with a raised eyebrow. amusement? written all over her face. “you heard me” she said simply, a small smirk ok her lips now.

“i- i’m sorry for staring at you and making you uncomfortable.” you responded, white hot shame flowing through your veins while you apologized to her and turned around again to walk back home, but a hand wrapping around your wrist stopped your motions.

“i never said i was uncomfortable, you know. it’s not everyday when it’s a girl checking you out instead of some creepy old man” she was laughing a bit when she said that, amusement not made clear upon seeing your embarrassed response to her presence and her questioning.

“how about we start over, i’m ning yizhuo. you are?” she held her hand out for you to shake, you did after a moments hesitation. her skin was soft.

“y/n y/l/n.” you spoke shyly when you met her intimidating gaze.

“y/n, huh? well, how would you like to take a ride with me?” she asked reaching to pull a spare helmet from her bag and holding it out to you expectantly.

this couldn’t be happening right now

“i’d love to!” you answered all too quickly taking the helmet from her hands, holding it to close to your frame.

“great, hop on.” her tone was so husky and sultry, the invite hanging in the air while she got back onto her bike, legs straddling both sides of it while her feet were planted to the cement. oh how you wished you could be a bike right now. you blink back your thoughts and carefully get on behind her, trying not to touch her at all. she smelled so good, like strawberries.

a silence hung in the air for a few moments while you both slipped on your helmets.

“you better put your arms around me unless you wanna wipeout in the road” she warned you, you hesitated again before doing as she said feeling your face grow hot under your helmet. she drove out of the parking lot at a reasonable speed, you felt okay with the loose grip you had around her waist.. until she unexpectedly sped up, causing you to yelp in surprise and the grip your arms had on her became a lot tighter. she definitely did that on purpose.

something about riding with her was so exhilarating, the speed made it feel as though the world was dissipating into the background of the night before your very eyes. you felt a lot more comfortable the longer you rode, and the extreme tight grip you had on her loosened up a bit. you lost track of how long you were going for until she pulled into a seemingly abandoned lot and came to a stop. you both got off the bike and removed your helmets.

“where are we?” you asked her.

“my favorite spot, you can see the stars so clearly here. i’ve always wanted to bring someone to see it with me, and i’m very glad it got to be someone as pretty as you.” she said with a whisper of a smirk playing at her lips.

you could feel it was weird how you were just silently gawking at her, but who could blame you? that disheveled hair and ever so slightly smug face drove you insane.

“you still with me?” she asked playfully, pointing out your lack of response to her comment

“uh- yeah. yeah- im still here” you struggled out, trying to snap yourself out of the trance you were in staring at her.

the skin of her hand making contact with your cheek sent shockwaves through your body, the contrast of the softness and the rough callouses that littered them was a sensation you knew you could get addicted to.

“you’re always staring at me like i don’t know exactly what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours” her voice was smooth and sultry while she spoke ever so quietly to you, despite the absence of people present.

“..what do you mean?” you whispered back, despite knowing damn well exactly what she was referring to.

“oh don’t act clueless on me now, i’ve felt you eyefucking me every time i was at the gas station, or even when we were riding, and even now. if you want me all you need to do is say it” she challenged, leaning closer and closer to you with each word.

“i.. i want you.” you whispered.

she swiftly pinned you up against her motorcycle and laughed lightly at that.

“good girl.. see? that wasn’t so hard.” she spoke lowly, face merely centimetres away from yours, her eyes scanned your face like a predator watches its prey, before finally connecting your lips together.

your bones felt as if they melted from her touch, unable to stand on your own when she lifted you up a bit so you were now sat on her bike while you kissed at a feverish pace. her hands gently tracing the skin just under the hem of your shirt, brushing lightly against your waist. the feeling of the cool rings that adorned her fingers on your skin sent your head reeling.

“can i take this off?” she asked, lightly tugging at the hem of your shirt, you nodded, unable to respond as you felt her lift your top off.

“god, so pretty” she mumbled to herself, placing a soft kiss to the swell of your breasts. soft pleasured sighs falling from between your lips at the feeling of her gentle touch on your skin as you felt her lips move lower, taking a nipple into her mouth and sucking lightly, pinching the other between her fingers. your back arched into her touch, sighs now turning into moans. the way you fell apart from the simplest of touches fueling her ego evidently.

“mm such a good girl for me, wanna ruin you” she spoke lowly, peering up at you through hooded eyes. you could do nothing but moan in response to her, while her hands made quick work of roughly tugging your pants off. the cold air on your skin in contrast of the heat she was causing in your body made you feel like you were losing your mind.

“wanna eat this pretty pussy.. gonna let me?” she asked while placing gentle kisses and bites along your inner thighs, marking you up just for her.

“please-“ you whined, trying to buck your hips closer to her mouth which made her laugh breathlessly.

“so needy..” she mumbled, kissing your pussy over your panties before moving them to the side and out of her way. she hummed, satisfied at the wetness of you, the way your juices glistened faintly in the moonlight. all because of her. her fingers spread your lips apart while she licked a long stripe along your dripping hole, fighting back a smirk at the sound of your loud moan and how your body instinctively tried to move away from her but having no where to go. she hummed contentedly into your pussy, satisfied with how you tasted.

her lips wrapped around your clit, sucking it harshly. you felt almost embarrassed by how wet you were for her, dripping all over the leather seat of her bike making quite a mess for her. 1 of her hands laid on your thigh to hold you down and spread your legs apart for her while she buried her head between your thighs, the cool metal of her rings digging into your flesh. she lapped you up like you were the only food source left on earth, drinking in any drop of essence you gave her while she gingerly slipped a finger inside of your needy hole, instead of having it clenching around nothing it now clenched onto her finger.

“fuck, look at you sucking me right in” she groaned, releasing your clit from her mouth causing you to whine at the loss of contact. “is my pretty girl gonna cum on my fingers?” she asked in that cocky, teasing voice you were becoming obsessed with.

“please- wanna cum-“ you whined desperately, trying to convince her to fuck you with her fingers at a faster pace. you only whined in dissatisfaction when you felt her finger slide out of you while she laid a harsh slap to your clit that made you scream.

“not yet, not until i tell you that you can cum. understand?” she asked sternly.

“yes- i understand.. just please- please fuck me” you moaned like a needy bitch. to be fair, you were.

“good girl” she returned her finger back to its place, adding another in while she fucked your hole roughly, eyes glued to how your pussy would suck them in more and more with each thrust she made. she toyed around with the pacing a bit, knowing how close you were teetering over the edge of your orgasm. you were desperate for it, bucking your hips in attempt to make her make you cum, but she made it obvious that she was the 1 in control here, denying you of your orgasm over and over again. she kissed your clit and peered up at you again.

“you wanna cum?” she asked you, and you nodded desperately in response.

“no. beg. use your words. do you want to cum?” she asked you sternly

“yes! please yes i want to cum- please let me cum!” you pleaded with her desperately, and that smug smirk broke out across her face at your desperate pleas.

“cum for me, cum all over my fingers” she whispered, before sucking harshly on your clit again, and you did just that, cumming so hard you swore you were seeing stars.. but not those that were in the sky. she helped you ride out that orgasm as long as she could, before finally coming to a stop and carefully slipping her fingers out of your dripping hole, happily sucking the cum off of them with no hesitation.

“you okay?” she asked coming up from between your thighs to look at your face close up, cradling it gently in her hands as she assessed your current state.

“yeah.. i’m okay” you said, breathing heavily when you finally felt yourself coming back to reality, her thumbs gently brushing over the skin on your cheeks

“did so good for me, looked so pretty cumming on my hand” she praised you while gently comforting you, grabbing a clean old tee from her bag to wipe your skin and the seat clean of your cum, laying a gentle kiss to your lips.

“you should ride with me more often” she suggested, sending you a more playful smile.

“yeah.. i should” you said, imagining something like this happening again if you did.

not edited, if there’s any spelling mistakes etc lmk!

#ningning x reader #ningning x fem!reader #ningning x reader smut #ningning x fem!reader smut #aespa x reader #aespa x reader smut #ning yizhuo x reader #ning yizhuo x reader smut

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ozzgin · 1 year ago

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So @moonthundersoldier requested a Predator x Reader headcanon and I have to say, I took my time with it as an excuse to watch Prey and whip out my dusty old comics. I‘m a big fan of Alien and Predator and this was my chance to finally try my hand at it! Hopefully it turns out alright.

Various Predators x Predator! Reader Headcanons

Featuring various Yautja types that independently find and court a mysterious reader raised by humans.

Part 1: Meeting

Part 2: Courting

Part 3: Mating

Backstory

The earliest memory you have of your parents consists only of their wide backs as they hastily controlled the ship, looking for a new hunting ground. You were born to a pair of bad bloods that have been exiled by their clan. They were loudly typing in the parameters for the landing, which so far wasn’t looking gracious. Just as the ship brushed against Earth‘s atmosphere, a foreign vessel appeared behind. Judging by the angry growls of your parents, it wasn’t a good thing.

You of course don’t recall any of it, but what followed was a swift battle once the landing jets touched the ground. The second ship opened up without delay and several Predators in stark white armor marched their way out. They were enforcers, dispatched to hunt down criminals such as your parents. As they finished their gruesome task, they noticed the remaining heat radiating from the cockpit. Had they missed a member? Then again, the overall shape was too small for a regular man. One of the officers climbed into the collapsed remains of the ship and spotted you. Troublesome. He nonchalantly grabbed your carrier and walked out, showing the cause of mild concern to the others. The important things such as weapons were to be returned to Yautja Prime, anything else destroyed. So, what were they supposed to do with you?

The answer was found rather quickly, as their helmets notified them of approaching life forms. Most likely wild animals, in which case you would also be taken care of. The suckling of fugitives could hardly integrate back in the clan. This was for the best. So they quickly discarded the remaining wreckage and boarded their vessel once again.

“Oh God, what is that?” a tall man shouts as he approaches your abandoned carrier, holding tight onto the shotgun. “Some sort of creature…Be careful!”

The plump woman with a sunburned face that had followed behind was now just a few inches from you, bending over with genuine curiosity. “Are you serious right now? Put that shotgun down, it’s a baby!” Seemingly unperturbed by your unusual appearance, she picked you up and briefly analyzed your features before lifting your carrier and turning around. “Let’s go, I’m not leaving a child behind. We’ll figure it out.”

Reader’s countryside life

And so you were raised by honest, loving and - most importantly - human farmers. Since you’ve been equipped with proper, superior intelligence, it has been easy for you to acquire the human language. The clicks and growls were slowly replaced with fully articulated words. Save for your reptilian appearance, you are otherwise an authentic member of the family.

You might have the docile, caring behavior of a human, but your predator instincts have not been discarded. You’re taller and stronger than your “relatives”, and the more dangerous labor of guarding or hunting has been in your hands for many years now. The old shotgun now serves as a dusty wall decoration, it could never compete with your claws, speed and ferocity. Your heart remains that of a hunter.

Eventually it becomes a vague gossip within the cities of Yautja Prime that one of their own might be roaming Earth, completely unaware of their roots. A Predator woman, trained by humans. What would the outcome be? Curiosity peaks for certain Predators and they can’t help but wish to see you with their own eyes. Maybe the different backgrounds would provide future younglings with unknown exotic advantages.

Your peaceful life comes to an end when the first of many suitors descends onto the bizarre planet and manages to track you down. The first encounter leaves you speechless: are there more individuals like you out there? You feel relief flushing over you as the knowledge of similar creatures settles in. You weren’t alone, after all. And soon enough you even learn to describe what you’ve always questioned about yourself. You’re a Yautja, a Predator.

Predators meeting the reader

You’ve really caught the feral Predator’s eyes. He has parted ways with modern technology a long time ago and prefers to hunt with minimal tools. He finds your way of surviving very similar to his tribal lifestyle, relying more on strength and agility that have been polished in raw nature. He’s the one that teaches you the native language and tells you about the Homeworld, though he suspects you come from a different hemisphere. He likes to observe the tactics you’ve developed to hunt the animals of this world and shares his own experience and tips with you. He has grown fond of the wilderness on this planet and plans to propose that the two of you build a family away from the needless hassle of cities. If there’s such a thing as a soul mate, then Black Warrior has entrusted him to be yours.

The visit you receive from an elite Predator is not as cozy. He watches you from afar and notices your interactions with the humans. His guide marks them as targets, so why are you acting all chummy with boring prey? They don’t seem to have combat skills and yet you bring them game and offer protection. He refuses to believe that you’ve been in some way enslaved, bringing shame to your kind. He decides to confront you and demand answers. Having learned the language, you explain that this is your clan, the family that raised you. You’re a bit annoyed that this complete stranger is bringing in his hierarchies and social constructs as some sort of universal law. You do not care for his philosophy of power and warn him to be respectful of the customs here. Aha, there it is. Your imposing figure and assertive threats confirm to him you’re a proper Yautja despite the circumstances. His initial frown is replaced by a satisfied expression. Don’t worry, your potential won’t go to waste in this dump of weaklings. He’ll take you home with him and show you the true meaning of a Predator family. Even if he has to fight you a little for it.

This fugitive bad blood has finally found you. He’d known your parents for a long time and heard about their demise, but he never expected they’d leave an offspring behind. He scans your figure with a certain impertinence, pleased by what he sees. Should he kill the humans and capture you as his mate? It’s certainly the most entertaining option. He smugly shows you his trophy belt, bearing the skulls of defeated prey, and asks you if your little creatures deserve a spot. You assume a fighting stance and erratic clicking sounds erupt from his chest, most likely a laugh. You have no tools and you’ve only ever fought…what…little Earth piglets half the size of a Predator Hound? But it’s alright, he wants a feisty mother for his children. Give your best shot.

By far the most challenging admirer has been the Berserker. You can see the similarity between the two of you, but the blood red eyes are unlike all the other Predators you’ve encountered before. Merely seconds after discovering your presence, the creature attempted to dominate you and you had to trash your way out of its grasp. You try to assess the situation but have little time to contemplate before the next attack occurs. He’s heavier and larger than you or the other Predators and as much as you hate to admit, taking him down could prove difficult. What does he want? He thankfully hasn’t redirected his aim towards your family, and if he so desired he may have killed you by now. He retracts his claws and turns to face you once again. He’s mocking you, not even keeping his guard up. But there’s something else in his eyes, a primal urge that sends cold shivers down your spine. He’s going to make you his.

#predator #predator x reader #yautja #prey #monster x reader

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lottesreads · 3 months ago

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Why Me? - Part 12

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)

Warnings: Forbidden relationship, some angst, mentions of nightmares, mentions of PTSD, swearing, mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, therapy (we love), mentions of death/being sick, mentions of limb loss (it'll all make sense),

Word Count: 9500

Summary: Everyone prepares for the storm, and you're left with a lot to think about as some forgotten feelings come back.

A/N: Hiiii guys, I am so sorry this took SO LONG. For some reason it was so hard to write and school started so ya know how that goes. But hopefully this makes up for it?? I love all of you and as always I hope you enjoy. Reblogs and comments feed my life force just btw

p.s. you know I love to hear what you think, so fire away

Masterlist

Bob knows he messed up. He knows that, and as much as he wishes he never put you in this situation to begin with, he can’t undo what he said. Things have just gone completely downhill since he told you how he felt and it just…. feels like it’s all his fault. You’re quiet, secluding yourself, and almost scared at work now. But there’s not much he can do if you refuse to open up to him. He can’t help but worry for you, but it’s up to you now. If you want to talk to him, great. If not, he just hopes you talk to someone else.

The wind has slowly been gaining speed since early this morning when he took Sylvia out for a run. It was his last chance to get her out of the house before the shit hit the fan and he wasn’t gonna keep her cooped up anymore than she had to be. He’s been in a daze since yesterday. Can’t quite seem to focus on anything he puts before him, including the several garden gnomes and pieces of porch furniture belonging to his neighbors.

“You sure all of this will fit in the garage?”, he asks while carrying a chair down from the front steps.

“Oh I’m sure”, Rich replies. His eyes have been more focused on placing their gnome collection inside the house, but he’s been making room for everything else in the garage. He’s skeptical as he eyes the rest of the room, they’ve still got to fit their cars inside, too. He’s sure if he moved a couple of those storage bins to a higher shelf he’d be able to-

“You’ve already done enough for us, why don’t you come inside for some sweet tea, huh?”

“I’m ok”, he tries to brush him off.

“I’m not taking no for an answer Bob”, Rich offers with a raise of his thick eyebrow. Bob gives in, like he does most of the time with these two, and follows Rich inside. Harry sits at the table as he wraps up the rest of their pointy-hat clad lawn ornaments, but pauses at the sight of his husband.

“How’s everything going out there?”

“We’re just about done”, Rich responds from behind the fridge door, “I thought we deserved a water break.” Bob laughs to himself, he really hasn’t done much except move a couple pieces of furniture. He probably could have been finished by now if they didn’t keep offering him water or tea.

“Oh that reminds me”, Harry turns to his husband, “We need to bring the hose from the side of the house in. I forgot when I finished watering the garden yesterday.” Bob isn’t able to take one step in the direction of the door before Rich urges him into the seat across from Harry.

“Don’t you worry about that one young man, I got it.”

“It’s really no trouble-”

“I insist, you take a seat and drink your tea. You can take a turn listening to Harry complain for once.” Rich slides a glass of sweet tea in front of Bob before patting Harry on the shoulder and stepping outside.

“I just wish I could help you boys more”, Harry starts. “But ya know the leg starts acting up whenever a storm is coming.” He emphasizes his point by tapping his metal prosthetic onto the side of the table, shaking it the slightest bit. Bob’s never sure if he’s talking about the actual prosthetic hurting, or what’s left of his leg, but at this point he’s too scared to ask. All he knows is that whenever he gets a call from Harry early in the morning, there’s bound to be a storm before the day’s over. This time however, he got his weather from the news, like a normal person.

“So-”, Harry starts as Bob takes a swig from his glass, “Are we going to be seeing Miss Mitchell anytime soon?” The sweet tea halts in Bob’s throat, sliding down the wrong tube and causing him to choke on the beverage. He does his best to not drop the glass onto the table in order to stop himself from spraying the drink everywhere, but Harry looks like he could care less as his brow raises. Bob clearly was not expecting him to bring you up, and Harry’s squint gives into the fact he’s happy to catch him off guard.

“I’d make an assumption, but I’m not quite sure how to make one out of that kind of reaction.” Bob continues trying to clear his throat by coughing, but Harry waits.

“No”, he chokes, “She uh- she won’t be coming by anytime.” Harry hums to himself as he turns back to the bubble wrap.

“That’s too bad. She was quick, I liked her.” Me too, Bob thinks to himself. He just gives him a slight frown at the news. “Seemed like you were pretty fond of her, too.” Bob’s cheeks heat up at his insinuation, and he tries to make a run for it.

“Ok! I should probably go help-”

“Sit back down”, Harry groans. Bob begrudgingly does as the man says as he begins to toy with the condensation forming on his glass. “All I’m saying is, you both obviously like each other. What gives?” All he can do is shake his head at the thought. There’s too much, but maybe he’ll understand.

“There’s just a lot of other stuff involved.”

“Oh yeah, like what?”

“Well, for starters her title isn’t ‘Miss’... it’s Lieutenant.” Bob’s gaze flicks over to watch Harry’s eyes widen in realization.

“Shit. Is she a WSO, too?”

“Nah, she’s a pilot”, he smiles, “A damn good one.” Harry chuckles as he crosses his arms.

“I shoulda known.” Bob furrows his brows, silently asking him to explain. “She just had this look in her eye…Can’t really explain it.” Bob knows the one. The silent determination he sees whenever you climb into the cockpit. No matter what happens on the ground, once you ascend that ladder… you’re focused. And no one can take that away from you.

“So that’s it then? You're just gonna let her go?” Harry probes as Bob shakes his head. He focuses on a grain of wood in the table, avoiding the man’s gaze.

“It’s against strict rules”, Bob shrugs, “I don’t want to be the reason she gets into trouble. It’s better if we just leave it.”

“Is it?” Bob grabs his glass of sweet tea and takes a sip before Harry leans forward in his seat, “If I know anything about you Bob, it’s that you’ve got a level head on those shoulders. And from what I can tell about Lieutenant Mitchell, it’s that she does, too. But you can’t forget underneath all of that, you have hearts. You can’t leave that out of the equation.” Bob stills as he taps his finger on the rim of his glass. Yeah, Bob has a heart, but you do, too. And who knows if deep down this is what you really want? If he’s what you really want.

His thoughts are interrupted by Harry once again, this time as he finishes wrapping up the last gnome.

“Mitchell, huh?” Bob mindlessly nods. “You don’t happen to know if she’s got any family who served, do ya?”

“Yeah, actually. Her dad just happens to be our captain. Pete Mitchell-”

“Maverick?!”, Harry all but yells. “That cocky motherfucker’s still in service?” The front door slams shut as Rich makes his way back inside.

“What cocky motherfucker are we talking about?”, he asks as if this is a normal topic of conversation for the two of them.

“Pete Mitchell”, Harry tells him as he stares at Bob in awe.

“Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time”, Rich replies as he grabs himself and Harry their own drinks. Bob pivots in his seat as Rich brings both glasses to the counter, eyes wide in shock. “Don’t tell me-” He’s obviously already made the connection as Harry nods at him. He simply shrugs and continues to pour their drinks, brushing off the fact that Harry seems to be stuck on. Something he thought Rich of all people would want to talk about.

“Did you fly with him?” Bob directs the question at Harry. He rolls his eyes.

“For a very brief time. He’s a few years younger than me, but always acted like he was the best of the best. Didn’t even win the goddamn Top Gun trophy.”

“Well”, Rich chimes in as he sets the glass in front of Harry, “That wasn’t entirely his fault.” Bob’s eyes unintentionally squint as he tries to think back on what he actually knows about your dad. There’s very limited information he sought after Hangman revealed he flew with Rooster’s dad, and- then it hits him.

“Wait”, he stops the two men, “Were you guys here when they had the accident?”

“I wasn’t”, Harry responds, “But Rich was. He was actually one of the-” Rich’s hand claps down on his husband’s shoulder, effectively stopping him from finishing the story. He grants Bob a forced smile.

“I was. It was a… a very sad day.” Rich keeps moving, leaving his glass of tea untouched as he moves the box of packed up gnomes to the living room. Bob leaves it at that. If there was more to the story he wouldn’t want to probe where he’s not welcome to.

After helping move the small outdoor coffee table into the garage, he insists on parking their cars himself. Just to make sure he did leave enough room for everything to fit. And with his many years experience with Tetris, he’s able to pack anything that the wind might sweep away into safe hiding spaces for the night.

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

If the puffy eyes that greet you in the mirror are any indication that you’d been crying, the wad of tissues scattered around your trash can would certainly do the trick. It was an ugly cry, one that you realized was futile to resist against the snot dripping down your nose. You’d cried more in the past couple months than you had in the past five years. Not to mention you haven’t cried to the point where you kept a roll of toilet paper to use as tissues next to your bed since you were a teenager. But even then you had mastered to cry in silence, to not alert anyone or “bother” someone with the noise of your anguish.

It wasn’t a question that was the reason for your headache. You even forgot you got hit in the face until you tried wiping the sleep from your eyes, only to pull your hand away as soon as it brushed near the red and purple bruise.

“Son of a bitch”, you muttered as you made your way to the bathroom. The wind howls outside your room as you splash your face with cold water, hoping to reduce the swelling before inevitably seeing your father. Gently, you wipe your face with a towel, taking a good hard look at the aftermath from the night before. You huff out a breath before tearing your gaze away from the mirror, gathering the tissues you’d thrown half-heartedly in the direction of the trash can the night before.

Your father is already up and moving as you descend the stairs. Granted, you did allow yourself to sleep in today. He’s sitting on the couch, slipping his shoes on when you make eye contact. He immediately smiles with a grimace upon seeing your face.

“Hey sweetheart”, he greets you, “How you feeling this morning?” You simply scoff and turn to the kitchen. The coffee machine is still warm, your dad already having at least his second cup of the day.

“Like I got hit in the face”, you respond. The machine hums while you let it work, and you grab an emblazoned Navy mug from the cabinet. You turn to lean on the counter, watching him finish lacing up his boots. “Where are you going?”

“Well, Penny’s moving everything at the bar and I figured since I took care of our stuff yesterday, I’d go help out. Plus it’ll be my last chance to take the bike for a spin this weekend.”

“And they say chivalry is dead”, you comment as the coffee seeps into your cup. He chuckles and makes his way over to you. You turn, mug in hand as he walks up. He grimaces again at your face, but his shoulders slump as he notes your puffy eyelids. “How’d you sleep”

“Alright”, you mumble.

“I can stay here if-”

“Dad”, you groan as you roll your eyes, “What am I, five?”

“No- but I’m just saying, if you need me I’ll be here for you.”

“I know, but I’ll be fine.” He seems unsure as he glances between you and the front door. “Go”, you urge him, “Be a knight in shining armor.” He laughs again as he bids you goodbye and leaves. The rumble of his motorcycle tapering off as he exits the neighborhood.

Truly, you are fine. You’re not great, but you’ve been worse. In fact, this is probably the most down time you’ve had in a while. If you were still talking to Bob you would probably text him and see what he was up to, but alas. There’s not much to do except waste away for the rest of the day. Which is exactly what you do. You turn the t.v. on and throw your feet up. They almost hit the large box Bradley left yesterday. You guess you could see what’s in there for you, but you’re already so comfortable and it's just so… far away. And soon enough, your eyes are drooping shut again.

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

The day passes by painlessly as you switch from folding laundry, to eating whatever is left in the fridge. Your headache slowly dissipates with every bite of food and drink of water, but as it gets closer to evening, the noises from outside get louder and louder. A leaf from a palm tree being ripped from its home and hitting the side of the house, ran pattering, and thunder booming in the distance.

Deciding you’ve had enough of scrolling aimlessly through your phone, you move back to the living room and turn on something you can watch without much thought. The cardboard box Bradley brought over still sits on the coffee table, and huffing out a breath you decide to take the lid off. There’s a bundle of old photos, a couple of dirtied up baseballs, and an old envelope you move to look at, but your phone rings before you can inspect it further. Your dad’s face appears on the screen and you swipe to answer.

“Hey dad, what’s up?”

“Hey kiddo, listen, there was a lot that needed to be boarded up and taken care of at the bar, I just barely got back to Penny’s. I know everything’s taken care of at the house, but the wind and rain are picking up. I don’t want to leave you alone, but it might be safer just to spend the night here. Are you gonna be ok?”

“Dad, I'll be fine. I’d feel better knowing you’re at Penny’s rather than driving your bike in the storm.” You can hear him sigh on the other end. Even with your permission you know he still feels guilty leaving you.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“I swear. I’ll be fine.”

“Ok sweetheart. Promise you’ll call me if anything happens or you need me, ok?”

“I promise”, you can’t help but smile through your words at his protectiveness.

“Alright, well I love you, and hopefully things will slow down and I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Love you, too, dad. Bye.” He bids you goodnight, even if it isn’t 8 o’clock yet, it feels like much later with the storm clouds covering up any chance of dying sunlight.

Turning back to the box you pick up the envelope, there’s an unexpected weight to it and you hold your breath at the sight of Carole’s handwriting. There’s one word on the front and it’s simply labeled “Bug”. Your once steady hands shake as you trace the folded edge that has been sealed for almost two decades. You can’t open it fast enough, but at the same time you’re hesitant to see quite possibly what her last words to you could be. Slipping your finger under the seal, you try to minimize the damage as it rips open. As if it were an extension of the woman herself.

Inside sits a lined piece of journal paper, folded neatly into thirds. But your eyes linger on the item weighing it down as you huff out a breath in disbelief. Your fingers reach inside, and once completely taken out of its hiding place, a silver chain with a butterfly pendant hangs from your hand.

With the necklace still wrapped around your fingers, your eyes water as you reach for the note, unfolding it. The paper shakes as your heartbeat quickens. And her voice fills your head while you trace the all familiar cursive with a featherlight touch.

My Darling Bug,

Did you really think I wasn’t going to notice this found its way back into my possession? I don’t know why or when you did this, but I thought I told you it wasn’t mine anymore. I gave this to you for a reason, Bug. I wanted you to know that Bradley, your dad, and I will always be with you. I think you might need it now more than ever. It might be a little different, but I don’t want you to look at it and be sad I’m not with you. I want you to look at it and be happy that I still am, no matter what.

I know I made you promise me to be brave. And you have kept that promise, so if you think you haven’t, you’re wrong. But maybe I should have worded it differently, because you don’t need to be brave like anybody else. I want you to continue being brave like you. Because I know you are. Even so, I want you to remember how I got this necklace in the first place. It all happened because Goose was brave enough to ask. He taught me that being brave doesn’t mean you’re not scared anymore. It means that even though you are scared, you do it anyway. You don’t run from it, you face it head on. He always told me I wasn’t born with the fear part of my brain intact, but he was wrong. When we lost him, I knew for a fact that part of my brain was there. I was so scared, but I knew I had to keep going. If not for me, then for Bradley and your dad. Heaven knows your dad was scared out of his mind, but that’s what makes him one of the bravest people I know. He kept flying, and then soon enough, you came along and changed our lives completely. And I know I’m rambling, but I just need you to know how much you mean to me- to all of us.

So I don’t want you to live your life in fear or with regrets, wondering the same things, so please; continue to be the brave girl I know you are. It’s hard to take those first steps. But it is so worth the risk, because you deserve everything good this world has to offer.

And this may or may not make it easier, but I just ask that you take this back and wear it with pride. I will always be with you, bug. And I can’t stand another moment having this sitting in my jewelry box, collecting dust when you can wear it and put it to much better use. You deserve it. I love you very much, don’t forget that.

P.S. I know Bradley’s a big boy and he acts like he can take care of himself, but I know he’ll need you just as much as you need him. Same with your dad. Be there for each other.

-Love, Carole

You move the letter away from under your face as you feel the tears start to fall. You’re just quick enough as they hit your lap instead. The necklace is now safely encased in your grip as you take in a ragged breath. All this time- You can’t stomach the thought. This entire time, these past 16 years you’ve been separated from this last piece of Carole you never even knew existed. And the necklace you thought was lost to time now sits in your palm. You hold on to it. Tight.

You still don’t let go as you gingerly place the letter back in the envelope. Deciding you need to put these two things in a safer spot than your living room, you walk up to your room and go to the shoebox above your closet. Inside, you move the velvet box with your Academy ring to the side, making room for the letter. You almost place the necklace in with it, but you’re not going to disobey Carole by not putting it on the next chance you get.

With the silver chain still wrapped in your hand, you put the shoebox back, just about tripping over your flight suit in the process. In everything that happened yesterday after therapy you must have forgotten to put it in your laundry basket, or hang it up at least. As you pick the jumbled green fabric up, your ears prick up at the sound of something hitting the floor. The gleam of a copper coin catches your eye and you drop your uniform altogether, opting to pick it up instead.

Carole’s words swirl through your head as your heart rate picks up. You stare at the penny in one hand, and open your other to reveal the silver butterfly. The memory of Bob’s crooked smile fills your senses and your heart beats faster again. There’s a phantom ache of his hand cradling yours, gently placing that first penny into your palm on the tiled floor of the locker room. Even before you kissed there was this urge to want to get to know him from deep inside the dark recesses of your heart. From places you thought you blocked off and boarded up after your last boyfriend. You left no room for weakness, no room for anyone to have the upper hand, but yet, you feel safe around Bob. You still do, even after it tore you to shreds resisting that same urge to talk to him, to look at him. It scares you, how after only meeting him a few months ago, it feels like he knows the darkest parts of you, and still wants to learn more. To care for you in a way that you haven’t let someone in a long time. And you want to do the same for him.

That urge sends chills up your spine as thunder booms in the distance, the once small patter of rain picking up as it hails on your roof. Clenching the penny in your fist, you delicately hold the necklace in the other, and you swear the lightning reflects off the silver butterfly, almost winking at you. In the glint, you hear Carole’s voice from when she first gave it to you, and again through her writing. “Be brave”, her whisper echoes. And in that moment, your heart beats louder, anticipating what you know you’re going to do next before your brain has the time to catch up. Placing the necklace on your side table next to your bed, your feet sprint down the stairs the moment the chain leaves your fingers.

You can hardly differentiate the thud of your feet from the thunder that is somehow getting closer by the second. Throwing on the nearest jacket and lacing up your shoes, you grab your keys and head to the garage. Your old faithful Toyota lays dormant as you jump in, and start the engine. Or at least try to. It sputters a couple times as you turn the key again, and again.

“No, no, no. Please”, you plead as you take a deep breath, holding out hope as you try one last time, “C’mon!” With a final twist, the engine roars to life. “Yes! Thank you!” The garage opens and closes with the click of a button as you peel out of the driveway, probably a little too fast, but who would be crazy enough to be on the streets in these conditions?

The rain doesn’t stop on your account, and both hands are white knuckling the steering wheel as you attempt to maintain the little control you have of your vehicle over mother nature. Your windshield wipers are moving as fast as they can, but it’s little to no good as you traverse the streets. You might have been better off with a canoe.

Nonetheless, you’re so close. Your destination is only a couple blocks away, practically in sight as your car lurches forward, sputtering, before ultimately slowing as you pull to the side of the road.

“No, no, no, are you kidding me?!”, you scream as you hit the steering wheel. She was doing so good! What happened? Placing the car in park, you remove the key and try again, but nothing. Squinting through the rain pattered window, you make out the street sign up ahead as it sways in the wind. This is ok. You can do this. Clenching your jaw and ensuring your phone is buried deep in one of your pockets along with your keys, you push against the gusts of wind and open the car door.

Your face is immediately pelted with ice-like bullets, raining down on you without mercy. Even with the hood of your jacket on, it does no good as you run across the sidewalk and turn down the street. A few house lights are on, but you can barely see as the rain washes over you in sheets. A gust of wind almost gets the better of you as you try your hardest to hold the hood to your head, creating any kind of cover you can. You are so close to throwing in the towel. So close to going back to your car and hiding away until the storm is over. But you didn’t come this far just to turn back. You will not give up.

Shining just a bit brighter than every other house on the street, your destination is in sight. Just one block and your feet make the decision for you to move faster. To run like you never have before, because this time you’re not running from anything. You’re running towards something. The rain hits you quicker, but it’s hard to feel it soak through your clothes as your feet pound against the pavement.

Your shoes slip on the step to the front door, and your fist meets the entrance much sooner than you were expecting. It creates a loud knock, but there’s no sign of life behind the door. Gaining your footing back, you knock once more. Nothing. You knock twice again. Damn it. He must not be able to hear you through the storm’s havoc. You don’t care anymore, you weren’t thinking when you hopped in your car, and you aren’t trying to stay out in the rain all night. Your knuckles are knocking repeatedly on the door, and that’s when you hear Sylvia bark. She’s getting louder as she moves closer to the door and you continue your knocking, hoping he’ll hear you over her.

“Please, c’mon”, you mutter to yourself as your teeth chatter against the words. Your knuckles are going raw from the sheer cold and the fact that you’ve been hitting them against the door for what feels like 20 minutes. The door opens with a rush of warm air and you’re greeted with the halo wrapped face of someone who only feels like warmness and comfort. The light shines around his features as they contort at what stands in front of him.

“Mantis, what the hell?!”, he yells through the wind while reaching forward to pull you inside. “Oh my god, are you crazy?!”, he exclaims as he holds your arms in place. Your teeth are chattering as he tells you to stay put before coming back with a towel that he promptly throws over your shoulders. It doesn’t do much good as you’re soaked to the bone, but he’s frantically looking for more before you reach out for him.

“Bob-”

“What are you doing here?!”

“I- I’m being brave”, you explain through the pounding rain and thunder. He pauses just for a moment, then shakes his head as he stares at you in utter confusion.

“Did you.. run here? Mantis, are you ok?”

“Bob I’m fine-”

“Do you know where you are? How did you get here?”

“Bob!”, you finally raise your voice and he meets your gaze instead of your rain-drenched form. “I will explain everything, but please just let me say what I came here to say”, you breathlessly supply. He looks back to you, hesitant, but nodding to let you continue.

“Ok”, he whispers. You can barely feel your fingers, or your toes for that matter, but your shaky hand reaches into your pocket and grasps onto the single penny you came here with. The only thing that you made sure to bring.

“What did you mean by this?”, you ask as you hold it out in front of him. “When you gave this to Phoenix, what did you want me to make of this?” His eyelashes flutter in a series of blinks as he silently takes in a breath. Without meaning to, the coin shakes in your hand, and he rushes an answer before you have to stand there any longer.

“It means what it’s always meant. I know I messed everything up, but I still want you to feel like you can trust me, and talk to me. Because you can. I know how scary it can be, and it’s…rare to find someone you feel so comfortable to be around and talk to about the nitty gritty parts of your life. And I like to believe I was that for you for a little bit, ‘cause… you were that for me.” Your heart melts at his sentiment as you continue to drench the walkway of his home.

“Now can you please tell me why you drove here in the middle of a hurricane?” You swallow, hoping whatever fears you have fall to the back of your throat to make room for what you need to tell him. Because, here you are: Soaking wet, standing in Bob’s home, with nothing but a penny and the knowledge that even if you’re scared, you can do this anyway.

“Bob”, you sigh, “You have not messed anything up. In fact, you did something I was too afraid to do.” Taking another deep breath, you ignore the lines riddled in his forehead and continue.

“I have been scared for most of my life. I know sometimes I act like I’m invincible, but I’m not. But I am also sick of being scared. I am sick of pretending. Life is too damn short, and for once instead of just acting like I am, I am trying to be brave. I can’t let this be another ‘what if’. I won’t let you be that. You deserve to at least know how I feel.”

“Mantis, you don’t have to-”

“No, but I want to”, you nod with authority, solidifying to Bob that this is a risk you want to take. You take in another deep breath as it fills you with courage. “Bob, it’s hard to explain, but- you make me feel brave. But at the same time you also scare the shit out of me”, you can’t help but laugh as the crease in his forward melts a little bit. “You scare me because you care so deeply for the people around you, and you’re so generous, and kind, and I can’t help but want to be around you all the time. And- and I’m rambling aren’t I?”, you ask as he breathes out a miniscule laugh. And then you’re gifted with the slightest uptick of his mouth. Just enough for you to know that he’s still listening. But when is he not?

“Anyway. I just- it kills me that you think so lowly of yourself, and I need you to know that I care about you. A lot. And if it hasn’t been blatantly obvious by how I’ve kissed you”, he blushes and looks down at his feet as if he didn’t kiss you with just as much passion, “I like you beyond the point of being friends. And- I feel like you see me. Not just as an aviator, not just as a woman, but as a person. But that’s also scary in itself because you’ve seen my flaws, and each time you didn’t look away. You stayed. You stayed and made sure I didn’t stay down.”

“You didn’t need me for that”, he shakes his head. And you smile through your shaky breath. “You don’t stay down long.”

“Maybe not, but it’s easier to get up when someone lends you a hand.” He stills at your words and your mind tracks back to find the courage you came here with. It’s not hard when Bob’s standing right in front of you with Carole’s voice running through the back of your mind.

“I’ve tried brushing these feelings off, and staying away from you, thinking I was doing what was best for the both of us. And… I don’t know about you, but it’s only been like two days without talking to you- and I miss being around you.” The tell you’re about to cry starts with your throat straining, and at this point you’re trying everything to talk through it. “I don’t want to mourn you while you’re still here-”, you choke out as you clench your jaw to stop your teeth from chattering any louder than they already are.

“Hey”, Bob whispers as he moves closer to you, “It’s ok-”

“I don’t want to lose you when I’ve never even had you”, you breathe a shaky breath as he places his hands on your shoulders, the warmth permeating through your jacket and towel.

“Whoa, where is all this coming from?” Your breathing is rapidly increasing, as he stares down into your eyes, concern painted through the way he looks at you. That and something else you’re too hyped up on adrenaline to identify at this moment.

“It’s ok, just breathe for me. Can you do that?” You nod as you stare back at him, his hands reaching out to grasp your own, placing one on his chest. Just like he did in the locker room. God, it feels like it was ages ago.

“Jesus Christ, you’re freezing”, he mutters as he puts both of his hands atop your own. Your fingers thrum over the soft cotton of his shirt, and you’re almost certain his heart is beating just as fast as your own.

“Your heart’s beating really fast”, you comment as you watch your fingers underneath his.

“Are you sure that’s not your own?” You exhale a laugh, but continue to feel that familiar thump from his chest.

“No, that’s definitely you.”

“Yeah”, he manages a nervous smile, “That usually happens when I’m around you.” Your hand is slowly gaining feeling back under the protection of his own, and your eyes meet his. He whispers your name softly, and this time you don’t flinch. You don’t break away, you don’t blink. Your teeth are still chattering, the noise distracting him from whatever he was going to say.

“Let’s get you into some dry clothes, yeah?” Silently you nod as he gives you a brief smile. He’s seemingly already accustomed to the idea of you staying the night, something you didn’t think of before running out of your own house. Taking your hand in his own, he leads you to the bottom of his stairs before jogging up to what you presume to be his bedroom. You wait as you attempt to clench your jaw to stop chattering your teeth, but that’s when you spot a shiny black nose poking out from the corner of the living room.

“Hey Syl”, you whisper while bending down. She retreats almost immediately at the sight of you, but reappears at the familiar voice. You realize you must look kind of scary with your jacket hood plastered to your face. In an attempt to get her to come closer, you peel your hood off of your head and tempt her again with your outreached hand. “It’s just me sweet girl”, you whisper as she moves forward to sniff your hand. Her tail starts a wag at the appearance of your face and you smile as she gets close enough for you to pet her head.

You’re scratching her ears as Bob returns from upstairs, now carrying clothes for you to change into.

“Ok, I’ve got some sweat pants and a t-shirt”, he explains as he sorts through them, “But I do have a sweatshirt in case you’re still cold.” He shifts his attention back to you as you stand and accept the clothes with a quiet ‘thank you’. Without the hood obstructing his view of your entire face, his brow immediately furrows at the shadow just to the side of your eye. He doesn’t get a good look at it before you’re turning to change in the bathroom. He must be seeing things. A shadow from your hair, the dim lighting, it just can’t be what he thinks it is.

Peeling your wet clothes off your body was something you didn’t think about while sprinting full speed down Bob’s street. But here you are, in his downstairs bathroom, admiring the softness of both the shirt and sweatpants he’s offered you. You’re soaked right down to your underwear, and rather than sitting uncomfortably in a wet bra and underpants, you decide to go commando. If you get cold enough Bob did offer you a sweatshirt. Tossing your wet clothes over the shower curtain, you slowly walk out of the bathroom. It’s quiet. Other than the occasional rumble of thunder, or whip of wind and rain against the windows, the only thing you’re aware of is your own breathing. Until you get into the living room and find Bob picking at his thumbs on the couch. He doesn’t notice you, and for the first time tonight, you hesitate. You run your fingers over the bottom of Bob’s shirt, holding it out slightly in front of your body. Just admiring how quickly he offered his own clothes to you. Your hair is slightly damp, but not dripping like it was moments ago, thanks to the towel he gave you when you first came in.

He must hear you shift on your feet, because soon enough his eyes follow your form in his clothes, the pants tight in some places, loose in others, but the large t-shirt does its job. He stops on your face as you give him a nervous smile and make your way over to the other end of the couch.

“Oh my god, what happened?”, he all but rushes out as you sit. His eyes are frantic with worry as you trace his concerned gaze to your cheek.

“Oh that”, you try to laugh, “It was an accident.” He swallows while he stiffens in his seat. Bridging the gap you left between the two of you, he catches your gaze as you look down at his hand.

“Mantis”, his voice darkens, “I need you to be completely honest with me.” He’s staring so intently into your eyes you feel like you’re center stage in a show you weren’t given the lines to. A kind of intensity you’ve never seen directed toward you from the man. “Did somebody hurt you?” You’re stuck in your spot, and without hesitating you answer him.

“No”, you breathe as you softly shake your head, “Bob, I promise you it was a complete accident. I was playing catch and wasn’t paying attention.” He eyes it one more time, and you see his hand twitch in his lap before it slowly makes its way to cup your face, turning it to take a better look. You hold your breath at the movement, but once his thumb strokes lightly over your skin you melt into his warmth.

“Well whoever you were playing catch with knows how to throw a pretty wicked fastball”, he mutters as he takes in the bruising along with the indent of the stitching.

“Yeah”, you sigh, not able to say much as he holds the weight of your face and much more in his gentle hand. “Rooster was a pitcher on his high school team.”

“You were playing catch with Rooster?” You let out a breathy laugh, knowing how confusing this must be.

“It’s a long story”, you tell him. “I just wasn’t paying attention.”

“And he still threw it at you?”

“I try not to make sense of Rooster’s actions anymore.”

“Next time you wanna play catch, you come to me. Ok?” His eyes are still on the bruise, analyzing it from every angle.

“Are you saying you won’t throw the ball at my face?”

“No. I’ll make sure you’re ready first.” His smile fades the tiniest bit, but his hand has yet to move. It’s quiet again until a particularly loud burst of thunder has him dropping his hold on you.

“Um, let me get you some ice.”

“I’m fine. My face, feet, and hands are pretty much still numb.”

“May I?”, he asks, reaching for your hands. You’re facing him now, and he turns to mirror your own crossed legs as his hands clasp your own. Slowly, without looking back at you, he brings them closer to his face and before you have the good sense to realize what’s going on, his warm breath fans over your dead fingers. Something flips in your stomach as he starts rubbing his thumbs over the back of your palms after each slow and agonizing breath.

The contrast in temperature hurts your fingers down to the bone, but you can’t seem to take them away from Bob. He stops the breaths just for a second as he rubs your hands in contemplation.

“Mantis… Why are you here?” You’re almost certain your swallow is audible as you stare down at your joint hands. He doesn’t push you when you don’t immediately answer. He only continues to soothe your aching extremities. But when he starts breathing on them again and his glasses fog up slightly, that’s when you truly start to feel the discomfort seep from your fingers. And that’s when you know you have your answer for him. Because he will truly put your needs before his own. His clothes on your back, his sight for your warmth, his happiness for your own. But he doesn’t quite know the true extent of your own unhappiness without him in your every day.

Your answer sits on the tip of your tongue, but truly, your brain speaks before you can formulate the words you need him to hear.

“I went to therapy”, you blurt out as you stare at him. God, why can’t your mouth just say what it needs to? Why is this so hard? Bob looks at your face at your admission, blinking away his shock at the volume at which you spoke them.

“That’s- that’s great.” He goes back to rubbing your fingers, ruminating on your words, then stopping suddenly. “It wasn’t ‘cause of me, was it?”

“No!”, you’re quick to correct him. “Not at all.. I mean it wasn’t your fault, but I did talk about you a little bit”, you admit bashfully. He nods, seemingly drawing his own conclusions. “It wasn’t anything bad. Just-”. You’re hesitant to tell him about your dreams, about why your dad called him that day. Why you were so fidgety and couldn’t even look him in the eye. But then you look back at him, and you know everything will be ok. He won’t run, or look at you with pity. He might be concerned, sure, but he’ll still be there for you.

“After Nat’s party, I had a nightmare. I haven’t had one in years, and it kind of rattled me. And then I had another one. They usually happen after I feel like I’ve done something I shouldn’t have. Something that would- make my mother mad at me.” He stiffens at your words, brows drawing up once more. He knows. And you don’t want him to blame himself. “But yeah, I got back in touch with my therapist. Gonna make it a regular thing now… but after my session she asked me to list three people who make me feel wanted. And it was very clear to me you’re on that list. And I hope I make you feel important, too. I know I haven’t this past week- and I’m sorry-”

“Hey”, he tugs your hands toward him just enough to get your attention, “You had enough going on, you don’t need to worry about me.”

“But I do. I can’t help it.” He whispers your name and averts his gaze from your face like he can't even bear to look at you right now. You didn’t think this was news, last time you were here he told you essentially the same thing.

“What?”, you whisper back.

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

Bob did not imagine even in his wildest dreams you would run to him in the middle of a storm. But here you are, pouring your heart out to him, your hands in his, his old t-shirt draped over your shivering body, but there’s still that tiny part of his brain telling him it’s too good to be true. And in reality, it is. Because what is he supposed to do now? What did you hope to achieve by coming over here? Your feelings don’t change the fact that this is still wildly against rules in place.

It might have been easier for him to deal with it on his own not knowing exactly how you felt, but now? He can’t put you in a position for someone to take your dream away from you. Especially after how much you’ve had to sacrifice to get to where you are. And there’s still so much for you to do.

“What do you want me to do with these feelings?” He finally asks and you’re caught off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean- a few days ago when you came to me you were so sure this wasn’t a good idea. And now?” He searches your face for an answer in your silence. “What changed?”

“I found a letter from Carole. It was meant for 12-year-old me, " you can’t help but release a watery laugh, “but she just reminded me that some things are worth the risk.” You pause for a moment, squeezing his hands for reassurance before continuing.

“Our jobs are dangerous, and even if they weren’t, life is so precious. And I don’t want to continue breathing if I’m only half-living. I already did that, and I refuse to do it again. And I’m not asking you to do anything with what I’ve told you, I just had to let you know. And that might be selfish, but I know running from what I’m feeling isn’t fair. To you or me.”

It’s quiet again, you’re not sure if Bob is looking at you anymore, but your eyes are drawn back to his hands. One of the single greatest comforts you can’t help but indulge yourself in. A flash of lighting pierces the corner of your eye and the boom of thunder follows shortly after. It almost bleeds into the rasp in his voice as he speaks.

“Is it selfish if we both want it?”. Your eyes snap to meet his and you’re hit with that intensity again. It’s slightly masked by insecurity, but you can see how much this means to him. You’re so sure he can hear you release a sharp breath.

“What do you want-” Your thought is cut off by a deep rumble of thunder, almost shaking the structure of the house. You flinch as if the roof were about to collapse on the two of you, but you’re not catching a break as the remaining kitchen lights click off.

“Damn it”, he mutters under his breath. Bathing you and Bob in total darkness, you instinctively squeeze his hands and he squeezes right back.

“It’s ok”, his voice echoes as he tries to see anything around the darkened room. Sylvia whines from beneath her hiding spot as he blindly searches the coffee table for his phone, petting her in the process to calm her nerves. With his phone located, he turns the flashlight on and you wince at the harsh white light. Sylvia continues to whine even as she scurries out from under the table and runs up the stairs. He runs a hand through his hair as he stands and you’re left in his absence. Goosebumps crawling up your arms and legs force you to shiver and Bob sees it out of the corner of his eye.

“Here- you can take my bed. It’ll be way too cold down here.”

“Bob, no. I’ll crash on the couch”, his mouth opens to protest but you stop him before he even starts, “Plus, I think your daughter might need you up there.” He moves his hands to his hips, deliberating his choices until he eyes you.

“I mean- we could always, ya know…”

“What?”

“We could share my bed. It’s not like we haven’t already slept in the same bed together- Not that I’m assuming you want to! But it’ll keep you extra warm if we’re both there, and that way we’re in the same room and-” With a soft smile you cut off his rambling.

“I think that’s a great idea.” That crooked smile graces his face for the first time in what feels like forever, and your nerves are put at ease. You want to be the reason he smiles like that for as long as you’re able.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He silently leads you up the stairs and offers to let you use the bathroom first while he tries to tidy up the mess you hopefully didn’t see through the lens of your phone’s flashlight.

There’s not much, just a couple of dirty shirts he didn’t have the time or energy to throw into his laundry basket. And then there’s the laundry basket of clothes he was going to fold today, but got distracted at Rich and Harry’s. Shoving the basket in the corner of the room, his eyes catch on the rain-pattered window. Palm trees sway in the wind, and thanks to a flash of lightning, he watches the street run like a river. He squints, trying to find where you parked your car, hoping the damage won’t be too bad.

The click of the door opening has him turning to you, brows still furrowed.

“Hey, where’d you park your car?”

“Oh, that. Funny story”, you laugh, “It stopped running about a block that way-”, you point up the street, “And I kinda ran the rest of the way.” His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as you stand there chuckling.

“Mantis”, he sighs, “Why did you think any of this was a good idea?”

“I wasn’t really thinking, I just knew I had to talk to you”, you bashfully admit. A flash of lightning reflects in his glasses, and you’re brought back to your conversation downstairs. Your unfinished conversation. The hairs on your arms raise before Sylvia whines from underneath Bob’s bed.

The two of you glance back and spot her nose peeking out from under the frame. You’re on your knees, petting her head as Bob stands at the window.

“It’s ok sweet girl”, you coo. With the two of you distracted, he takes a minute to finish getting ready for bed. God, he just can’t believe you’re actually here. Granted, he wishes it was under better circumstances, but still. Stepping back into his bedroom, he’s pleased to find you already underneath the covers, your back facing him. His heart speeds up at you already so comfortable in his bed, but he gathers himself quickly before turning to close the door to the room. The bedroom the two of you are currently sharing… with his dog lying on his side of the bed.

“Before you say anything”, you rush out as you sit up, “She got up here all by herself, and I don’t have the heart to tell her to get down. So you’re just gonna have to look into those big brown eyes and be the bad guy here.” He bites down a smile as he pretends to deliberate on what he should do. Not giving in and telling you that she normally sleeps on the bed with him.

“Plus, I don’t think she’ll be as scared if she’s up here with us”, you add. With us. Yes, that word just came out of your mouth. And it might not be a big deal, but you just used that word and Bob is having a hard time not pinching himself to make sure this is all real and not another dream. Clearing his throat, he manages to cough out a “yeah”. Or something akin to agreement.

He starts to settle onto his side of the bed, and you scooch as far away from the middle as you can. Sylvia moves down the bed in between the two of you and you finally lie back on your respective pillows. You can hear his glasses hit his bedside table as his hand falls to Sylvia. There’s an unspoken tension in the room, and you’re not sure if you can wait until morning to break through it. But neither of you say anything. You just lie there like a lifeless body whose heart is also about to burst through her chest.

Another flash of lightning slices through the curtain, followed almost immediately by a horribly loud boom. Sylvia whines again and your hand falls to her. You knew his hand was there, but it doesn’t stop the shock at the feeling of your fingers brushing his. As your hand swoops over Sylvia’s fur he almost moves back as you stop. But that single touch in the dark makes you want more. So with a clear mission, you bring your hand back over her fur and start to slowly trace his knuckles and fingers. His hand turns over, inviting you to do the same to his palm before he halts your motions and instead intertwines your fingers. He’s still so much warmer than you are, and your hand melts in his. It makes you feel safe.

You don’t say anything as his thumb rubs your hand. The two of you lay in the backdrop of rain and thunder, staring at the ceiling as if it had some kind of hidden message you have to decode. Bob must find what his side says because he clears his throat before speaking.

“What you asked earlier, about what I want- I want you to be happy. Above anything else.” Your heart turns over as you face him.

“I want that for you, too… But you should know you make me really happy”, you whisper into the night. His hand flexes as his pillow rustles to your right.

“You mean that?”, his voice is clearer as he turns his head, and although you’re having a hard time seeing through the dark, you can imagine the look of fear and insecurity in his eyes.

“Of course I do.”

“Cause you make me happy, too”, he rasps, his voice somehow even deeper. And you just can’t help the way you move closer to him. Reaching with your free hand, you hold onto his bicep and rest your head on his shoulder. He welcomes it with a relaxed sigh as you get comfortable. Sylvia doesn’t seem to mind being squished in between your legs, and you’re happy for the warmth these two provide you.

There’s still a lot to talk about. A lot to figure out as to what happens next, but right now? You can’t seem to care what happens tomorrow because you’re content to hold onto Bob tonight. And as you feel him kiss the top of your head, you get that deep butterfly feeling in your stomach. The good kind this time. No overwhelming urge of anxiety or doom washes over you and you know everything is going to be ok. It has to be.

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

Hey Siri, play Fearless by Taylor Swift

Taglist:

@lemmons1998

@itsmytimetoodream

@theamuz

@harrysgothicbitch

@mygyn

@luckyladycreator2

@marve2014

@wretchedmo

@callsignwidow

@finnydraws

@melsunshine

@jostan456

@okiegirl24

@beebeechaos

@eclecticfashionbookszipper

@hunbomb

@nerdgirljen

@knight-of-the-doctor

@smoothdogsgirl

@planetaryempire-blog

@dumblani

#why me?#top gun maverick #bob floyd fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader #mavdad #robert bob floyd x female reader

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m00nymonster · 27 days ago

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Aaaand we're back! I really like this one :)

Yellow

Prompt: survive

"Place your bets," the foreman said as he painted my armor yellow. I was given a large projectile weapon, as was the other SecUnit, who was currently being painted blue. Humans gathered around the foreman, betting credits or meal packets. (I never understood the human need to gamble, but I particularly never understood why they would bet meal packets. Credits were one thing, but humans needed food to survive. But hey, I was just going to do the shooting, not the eating.)

I'd won the previous two fights, so the odds were better on me. It wasn't because I was better at fighting than the other SecUnits. It was mostly because I could ignore my governor module when it said stupid things like saving ammo or not damaging company property. I had to be careful to not act too independent, but a little ability to actually defend myself for once (SecUnit fights are usually just shooting at each other until one of us is disabled) came in handy.

The foreman finished painting me. I stepped forward into the arena cleared out for us. It was a tunnel used for transport, but the humans had moved all the shuttles out of the way. On one side was a short barricade in front of a sheer drop. Great.

The other SecUnit stepped forward, as did I. We separated and walked to opposite sides of the arena as the humans cheered.

"Hey Yellow!" a particularly loud human yelled. "You'd better lose, I bet three meal packets on Blue!"

I rolled my eyes behind my opaqued helmet. It wasn't my problem if the human starved.

(Well, it would be if he became too weak to work and I was ordered to force him to work anyway, but that was a future problem.) (The current problem was the SecUnit in front of me.)

"And...go!" the foreman yelled. I jumped to the side and rolled as the other SecUnit fired at me. I managed to fire a few shots, aiming for its knee joint. If we were lucky I could just disable it and hopefully that would satisfy my audience.

The other SecUnit wasn't so scrupulous.

It fired directly at my head. (Rude.) I managed to dodge and ran across the arena, firing again and again, trying to avoid the sheer drop behind me. The SecUnit fired back and hit me in the knee. I fell, leaking fluid and blood, and the crowd cheered.

"Finish it!" the same human yelled. The SecUnit fired at me, but I rolled out of the way, my knee joint clicking loudly. The SecUnit ran forward, but I turned down my pain sensors and swiveled, blasting at the SecUnit as it darted behind me.

Unfortunately, behind me was the sheer drop. I shot it in the chest and it broke the barricade.

I had a few seconds before it fell. If I ran at top speed, I could catch it. And if I hadn't had a crowd of humans behind me, cheering and hooting and booing, I might have. But a governed SecUnit doesn't go out of its way to save another SecUnit.

I could have saved it.

I didn't.

It fell and a few pregnant seconds went by before we heard the crash. The crowd screamed in glee and despair. The foreman ran up and looked over the barrier.

"Yellow wins," he said "Someone get down there and collect the pieces. I think there's enough to throw back in a cubicle."

He looked at me. I stood still and leaked.

"Get this one to a cubicle too," he said. "We'll get it ready for tomorrow."

I limped away, my knee joint clicking, and played episode 206 of Sanctuary Moon.

#murderbot #the murderbot diaries #tmbd #murderbot diaries #murderbot fanfic #murderbot drabbles #pre-ASR #secunit

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its-in-the-woods · 6 months ago

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Coyote Head - Part 7 - Bloodied Kiss

master list

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Pairing: Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean

Includes many other characters from Fallout

Synopsis: The nightmares are finally catching up to Lucy.

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning: Animal/people death, Blood, Gore, Body Horror,Violence, Nightmares, Monsters, Alternative Universe, Slow Burn, Death, Aging, Family Feuding, Older Man/Younger Woman

Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. So you have been warned. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.

*Mind the tags

*This had been clawing at my mind for dayssssss I needed to post it early or I was going to explode

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As the dust of the car faded, Lucy felt her shoulders drop, it was barely past mid-day and she was already feeling worn out. She was proud of herself, for not backing down and holding her ground. Max had been the first boy she’d really fallen for, and it sucked it had ended the way it did. It was time for her to move forward, to let that part of her life go. Move onto what was coming next for her, hopefully, something that won’t end as tragic.

Lucy turned to her two companions as they started to move, happy that they had stood at her back despite having no idea what was going on. She gave a weak smile at the two, trying to shake off the lingering feeling of dread.

“Ya’doing okay?” Cooper asks as he moves towards her, the way the afternoon sun shone on his skin making her heart speed up. Her eyes unabashedly went over his body, the man was well-toned. The day-to-day work is evident on the hard lines of his muscles covering him; a crooked grin on his face when Lucy finally catches her eyes.

Lucy glances away, as Dane grins at her, “Yeah, just, wasn’t expecting him to show up. Ever.”

“Well, shirtless. Could I get a hand movin’ some stuff around to get the mower.” Dane chuckles, Cooper smirking at the comment, the tips of his ears going pink. Lucy smiling at the two ribbing each other.

“Yeah, I can help the greasemonkey,” Cooper throws back, with raised eyebrows. “Shirt got wet. But pipes should be fine.” He said just loud enough for them to hear.

“Sure it did,” Dane rolls their eyes as turning to head to the other shed. Cooper gives them a sideways glance before following, a smile on his lips as he looks back at Lucy.

“I will go turn the water back on for the house,” Lucy chirps, her face was going to be stained beet red at this point. She was feeling happy that she had friends like these.

***

Lucy is once again sitting on the counter, the pipes are now running without leaks. Cooper had actually laid in water, which had given Lucy an excuse to toss his shirt into the dryer. She’d take any excuse to see the man move around her home and property shirtless. Dane had teased him endlessly about it much to Lucy’s amusement. Dane had taken off about an hour ago with the promise to come back on Monday to continue the work. Lucy had half a mind to figure out how to keep them on a more permanent basis. Something she’d run by Harris, see if it was worth doing, and if Dane wanted to stay of course.

Cooper walks in, putting the caulking gun down beside the sink. He’d decide after finishing the pipe to fix up several issues around the sink. Lucy was positive she could have figured it out but Cooper was insistent. Really who was she to refuse the offer from a shirtless cowboy in her kitchen. She hands him a beer, he pops the top off with a ring on his middle finger. Lucy adds that to the list of things she found way too hot.

“I can make up some dinner?” Lucy offers, she was pretty sure she could find something worth eating in the freezer. She also needed to make sure that she got Cooper some tallow too.

Cooper leans against the counter right beside her, taking a sip of the beer. Lucy can’t help but watch how he drinks it. “If ya don’t mind. Grandparents are taking the kidlets to d’pool and pizza after. Figured, we’re going to have a long day. ”

Lucy couldn’t help the smile that crosses her face, liking the idea of the two of them having an evening just for them. “Were you planning something, Cooper?”

Cooper’s sliding over so that he was leaning against Lucy, “Well, I was goin’ to ask ya out Ms. MacLean, but ya kinda jumped me.”

Lucy's head tipping back in a laugh, taking another sip of her beer. The two of them looked the other over, her eyes trying to memorize the way he looked out of his shirt. “I don’t seem to remember you complaining,”

The man puts his beer down shifting so he is standing in front of Lucy, she swallows under his gaze. He leans forward putting a bare arm on either side of her, eyes wandering up her body, their face just inches from each other. Lucy’s breath catches in her chest as his hazel eyes stare into hers.

“M’no, I certainly didn’t.” Cooper hushes, leaning forward to kiss her again. Lucy can’t help the little whine that escapes as she pushes back against him. Her hands ran up his arms, feeling his muscles twitch under the attention. He tastes so good, their tongues finding the other as they pull each other closer.

Her hands come up to cup his face, his hands resting on her thighs, fingers gripping against the flesh there. Lucy lets her legs open so that Cooper can move closer to her. He breaks the kiss, moving down along her jaw, small kisses down her neck. Lucy whimpers as he licks down her neck, his large hands rucking up her shirt. The callous on his fingers makes her body vibrate as he touches over her skin.

“Cooper,” Lucy whimpers, her hands running up into his hair, as his hands cup her breast through her bra. “M’maybe we should-” His head ducks down, mouth going along her stomach. It feels so good, but it’s so fast. “Cooper, we shouldn’t-”

His teeth sink into her flesh, “Fuck- Ow- Cooper-” Lucy tries to pull him away but he bites in deeper, Lucy can feel her skin tearing. The sound of teeth in flesh, the wet sticky pop, her face twisting in a grimace.

Lucy is scrambling, a scream finally leaving her throat at the pain, trying to get him off of her. “Stop. Stop-p it.” Lucy cries out, her hands finally pushing him off of her. The skin is not skin anymore, but rough and lizard-like under her hands. Cutting into her palm as she does her best to get it off of her.

It’s not Cooper. Looking up at her, with blood painting its chin like a crimson river, is something that looks like Max. Its features are the same, but eyes instead of brown glow like orange flames, skin darker than shadows. Skin Covered in layers and layers of never-ending shifting scales that move in the light. A bloody grin spreads across its face. There are too many teeth, so sharp, in neverending rows, the pink spit glistening as it grinned up at her. Stomach oozing blood over her pants and dripping on the floor.

“Just wanted a taste.” It growls at her, suddenly lunging forward to latch onto her neck.

Lucy is howling and fighting to get it off her struggling, as she falls to the floor. Her body protested as she hit the ground with a thud, the whole room going dark. She is pushing and struggling, but it’s soft now. Her hands are not grabbing at scales but material, eyes adjusting to the new surroundings. She was on the floor of her bedroom; chest heaving as she tries to make sense of where she was, and how she got there.

Pushing the blanket off of her, she takes in the room around her. Her bedroom, she had fallen off the bed and landed on the floor. Lucy flips on the light and looks down, pulling up her shirt to look at her stomach. Hands running over where there should be torn tissue, before going up to her neck. Nothing.

It had felt real, she could still feel the way it’s teeth had dug into her, the pain that had shot through her body. Looking at the bed Lucy expected to see blood, expected to see something. Throwing off the sheets there was nothing but sweat stains.

Lucy collapsed onto the floor, her body trembling at the memory. It looked so much like Max, but it was all wrong. His face had been too round, eyes too far apart, hair too spiky, so many teeth. The eyes, orange fire-filled eyes, glowing like embers burning into her soul like hot ash on ice. Her hands scramble to the side of her table gabbing for her phone.

For the first time, she doesn’t hesitate, hitting Cooper’s number. Pressing the phone to her ear, she hadn’t even looked at the time.

***

Cooper was there in a matter of minutes, Lucy opening the door for him, still in a state of shock. He had immediately gathered her up into his arms, hugging her tight against his chest, refusing to let her go until he got her over to the couch. He had her sit, covering her with several blankets, before moving into the kitchen. A hot cup of coffee with hot chocolate was put in front of her, along with some toast. He slid in beside her, bundling her up and tucking Lucy into his side. Her hands wrapping around him as she shivers, her whole body felt like it was frozen.

“You doing okay, sweetheart,” Cooper murmurs, his voice rumbling against the side of her head. Lucy could feel herself melting into his side, wanting to find some way to stay there forever.

Lucy swallows, nodding, “Just-” She wasn’t even sure how to put it all into words. It wasn’t exactly normal to have eighties horror movie dreams every night. “Nightmares have been really bad.”

Cooper rubs his hand down her arm, Lucy lets her eyes close for a moment and enjoy the comfort.“How often have you been having them?”

Lucy snuggled in closer, reaching for the coffee mug and taking a sip. The warm caffeine and chocolate drink heating her insides. “Since the house got ransacked, it’s been nightly.”

Cooper’s chest grumbles at the words, arms somehow pulling her closer to him. “What was it about?”

“I don’t, I-” Lucy takes a sip of more coffee, before telling him what she’d dreamt about. Not skipping any details, the warmth of the coffee and his body made it easier to get it off her chest.

Cooper hums, he takes his hat off, setting it beside him on the couch, hand running into his hair. He scratches at the stubble for a second. “Well, that wasn’t the dreams I’d hope you’d have of me.”

Lucy smacks his stomach at the joke, a small smile passing on her lips at the jest, “You think I like this? I’d much prefer no dreams, or well other dreams.”

Cooper grins, Lucy pouting a little, as he chuckles, “No, I don’t think that, I do worry about the nightmares. Can’t ‘member the last time I had a night-terror. Why you’re tired all the time?”

She nods, her eyelids weighing heavy despite the coffee and mind-bending visions.“I feel like I am losing my mind, Cooper.”

“You’re not goin’ crazy, I think ya need sleep. Maybe some time away.” Cooper mumbles into her ear, pushing hair out of her face. “Why don’t ya let me take ya to my home.”

Lucy’s brows furrow, she didn’t want him to leave, but she also felt like she should stay. Why did she want to stay? The nightmares never stopped her, the shadows, the taping, the knocking? Yet the thought of leaving made her stomach turn, but when Lucy left she felt lighter.

“You promise you don’t think I am going crazy?” Lucy whispers, wondering how much he would believe. How much did she even believe? None of this made sense, not really.

He shifts so he can look right at her, eyebrows making his forehead wrinkle.“I promise I don’t think’ya’re goin’ crazy. Anymore than am goin’ crazy.”

“I feel like I am supposed to be here, even with all the nightmares, the shadows, the house being tossed. I keep comin’ back.” Lucy states, her fingers fiddling with the edge of the blanket. Saying it out loud made it seem even more ridiculous than it had in the confines of her mind.

Cooper nods, placing the mug on the coffee table, hand running up and down her arm more. “It’s not surprisin’, this place is your home. It’s where ya grew up.”

“It’s not just that,” Lucy said, sitting up a bit, clutching at the mug, trying to hold onto some shred of reality. “It’s like something is pulling me here. Like I can’t leave.”

“So, leavin’ would probably be wise,” Cooper replies, his hand finding hers. “You’re sleep-deprived, runnin’ on fumes, Lucy. We have a spare room ya can stay in. Until ya can catch up on sleep, have a better view on thin’s with a clear head.”

Lucy sat back, the thought of being off the farm made her stomach twist, but she also needed sleep. Actual sleep sounded amazing, to not feel like she was burning at both ends.

She nods her head finally. “Yeah, maybe I do need to leave.”

***

Lucy was sitting at her family's dinner table, watching the kids outside to play on the deck. She had slept most of the day away, her exhaustion not feeling nearly as pressing as it usually did. The spring air was warm today, the hints of summer shifting in the air. She’d slept most of the day, Cooper had brought her to his place at about three am, the two tiptoeing upstairs. Initially, he’d offered her the spare bedroom, but after opening the door and seeing a pile of laundry, his room was the next best. Cooper had insisted on sleeping downstairs, despite Lucy’s best attempt to get him to stay. Traumatizing the children wasn’t high on her list. She was a little peeved he hadn’t woken her up, but she was also grateful for the extended rest.

Stephanie sat down across from her, glancing out at the kids. They were running back and forth across the deck, possibly paying tag. “How’s it going, Lucy.”

“I am doing okay,” Lucy lies, there was no reason anyone needed to know any more about her problems. “Did you ever talk to Betty?”

“Oh! Yes, Betty.” Stephanie smiled, digging through her phone. “I sent her the photos.” She lets out a sigh, “Unfortunately no dice. Seems like it’s still a mystery.”

“Dang was hopin’ we’d get somethin’ more,” Cooper said, sitting beside Lucy. She desperately wants to crawl onto his lap and fall asleep, but instead, she shuffles a little closer. Steph watching the two of them closely, one eyebrow up.

“Yeah. probably something diggin’ like you said.” Steph says, shutting her phone off and leaning back into her chair. “Had any more weird stuff happen?”

Lucy shook her head, not wanting to get into the details, “Nope, hoping it stays that way really.”

Bert sat down beside Steph leaning in to give her a quick kiss, “Y’all heard about the Roths.”

Cooper and Lucy looking at each other, shaking their heads. It wasn’t like they had had a free moment lately.

“Last night something came and killed two calves. Did some damage to some of the cows too.” Bert sighs, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “Like we needed more loss this year.”

Lucy's mind ran over the property map. The Roth's had a section leased from her that was back half on parkland and half onto her farm. There was also the nightmare last night.

“Which section was it?” Lucy asks, already knowing the answer.

“The section southwest of your place, actually,” Reg's brows furrowing. “Weird huh.”

“Do you know what time?” Cooper asks, his hands taping at the table.

Lucy realizing that Cooper was also putting two and two together.

“Not sure, I know it was overnight.” Reg replied, “Why? Something happened with you guys too?”

Lucy swallowed, her hands going to cover her stomach. The feeling of her flesh ripping out, the haunting image of its eyes, the sound of its voice.

“Nothing of note, we did have a mummified calf. But Barry figures it was just a bad pregnancy.” Cooper shrugs, the action supposed to be of disinterest, but his shoulders stay tight. Lucy is happy that he didn't bring up her nightmares until she got some more sleep it wasn’t worth mentioning. Right?

“Maybe it's the weird spring. Warming up too fast. Animals reacting to it,” Steph adds, her hand covering Reg's. Her eyes looking between the two of them.

Cooper is up and moving as the sliding door opens, Mathias holding a frog in his hand. The little boy had a grin from ear to ear as he holds it up to show his Dad the little critter he'd found.

“Can't bring it in here, buddy. Why don't we go take it to the pond,” Cooper tells him with a smile, petting the little creature his son held up. Lucy smiling as the two wander out of sight.

“So how long you two-” Steph raises an eyebrow, with a cheshire smile,

“Been a thing?”

Lucy’s cheeks burn at the words, not realizing how obvious she had been. “No. Well. Yes. But not that long. Didn’t realize I was that transparent..”

The couple chuckle, Steph smiling at her cousin, as she squeezes Reg’s hand. Free hand waving at Lucy as if it was nothing.

“You both need a little light in your lives,” Reg states smiling at Lucy, before looking at his wife.

“Keeping things quiet for now. Haven't really talked about it much.” Lusy confesses, Marge coming over to sit at the table.

“Keeping what quiet hon?” Marge questions, holding a cup of tea in her hands. Cooper comes back in through the sliding door, walking over and kissing Lucy on the cheek. Marge chuckles and makes an ahh sound, Lucy doing her damndest not to slide under the table.

“As long as you're both happy,” Harris says, patting Lucy on the shoulder. Lucy having a hard time keeping her cool, it wasn’t as if they’d put a label on things. They’d kissed once for crying out loud.

“Could I speak to you for a moment, Lucy?” Harris asks, kissing Marge on the top of her head before moving towards the hallway.

“Absolutely,” Lucy smiles, looking back at Coope who nods before following her Uncle into the big house.

Down past the bedrooms a door leads into a well-lit office, the far wall has three large windows that face out into the backyard and forest line. A large old desk sat in the middle, along with several large filing cabinets and bookshelves. The room was bright against the dark wood, space big enough for two large overstuffed chairs beside the bookcases. On a well-worn stool were three faded bankers' boxes. Lucy recognizes her Grandpa's handwriting on the front. Harris puts a big hand on top of one rotating so he is facing Lucy.

“Me and Margie have,” He pauses looking out the large windows towards the forest. “Debated about whether we should give you these. Tim asked me to burn them. But it didn't feel right.”

Lucy crossed her arms, hugging herself a little as she looked at her Uncle. His usual nonchalant demeanor now scrunched together in tight lines across his face. Pacing back and forth in front of the window as he spoke.

“These are Tim’s journals. Going back to a month after your Dad and Uncle went missing.” Harris replies, Lucy, feels a wave of dread wash over her as he moves over to his filing cabinet.

“They didn't go missing- '' Lucy goes to reply, Harris placing a newspaper in front of her. Headline read Two men killed in farm accident. “Yeah, this is what Tim showed me.”

“Flip to page four,” Harris said, Lucy did as he asked, unable to get a read on his emotions. Page four has a smaller blurb, Search for brothers ends. Lucy reads through the blurb, a cold pool of dread weighing in her guts.

“They went missing in the forest. In the forest around my house.” Lucy whispers, her hands shaking as she rereads the words. “They never found the bodies.”

Harris meets her eyes as she looks up at him, “What is going on?” Lucy demands dropping the paper on top of the boxes. “Why? Why? Did no one tell me?”

“Tim made us promise,” Harris said, placing his big bear paw-sized hands on her shoulder, it felt like the weight of the news pressing down on her. “He didn’t want you or Norm to know. He figured that if you thought they were dead you could move on. In ways he never let himself move on.”

Lucy moves away from Harris, a deep sense of betrayal washing over her. “You’re telling me he didn’t think they were dead? It’s been decades since they went missing.”

Harris had sat himself down in one of the overstuffed chairs. “We searched and searched for weeks. Even after search and rescue stopped, stuf-,” He rubs one of his big mitts across a day's worth of stubble. “Stuff happened during the search. Stuff that doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

Lucy sighs, flopping into the chair beside her Uncle, “Could we not be vague, please? I can handle whatever happened then.”

“While we were searching, people heard things.” Harris’s face went pale.

“They kept hearing Hank call out, or Shaun. It sounded like they were close, but we could never find them. It would go quiet for days, then Me and Tim would go out and hear them again.”

Lucy swallows, “Like it was calling you there.”

Harris looks at her, a knowing look passing over his face. “It scared some of the volunteers. Hearing them, but never finding them. Then a week before your Mom checked out it stopped. These journals are the first time I even had any idea that it had continued after you both got there.”

“We spent our entire childhood in and out of those woods.” Lucy’s voice was raised, her heart thudding in her chest. “Why would he let us in there if he thought it was dangerous?”

Harris looking older than his year. “Lucy. If I thought you were in any danger I would have taken you and Norm out of there.” Lucy stands there staring at him, anger subsiding at the honesty in his words. “No one. Not one of us. Thought you were in any danger there.”

Lucy swallows, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. “Once you kids arrived, Tim didn’t share anything. I thought. I thought he was dealing with the loss of his sons. In his own way, never finding the bodies made him want to hold on to hope. So I let him. Then when he got the cancer diagnosis he brought me these boxes. Telling me to burn them once he was dead. That it would all be over, I didn’t know what he meant. But it was like a weight had finally been lifted off of him. ” Lucy shifts in her chair, unsure how to feel. “When your place got tossed I pulled them out, I read a few.” Harris shifts in his chair, staring at the boxes. “I don’t know what I was expecting but you should read them.”

“What is in them?” Lucy pushes, feeling like she is waiting for a bomb to go off. Her hold on the world was sliding, and she wasn’t sure if she would make it.

“Memories, stuff about your childhood. But also. Other stuff. Stuff I don’t know if I can believe.” Harris’s voice going soft. “I should have told you a long time ago and I am sorry for that. But maybe this will help, maybe put things to rest finally.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

PART EIGHT

Tag list: @toogaytofunctiondangit , @hiddlebatchedloki , @whatsorceressisthis @dichromaniac @autumncryptids

*I am gonna say we are onto act 2... it's only gonna get darker from here < 3

**As always likes, comments, shares are soooo appreciated, you can find me Ao3 as well

** Want to be on the tag list let me know

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specialagentlokitty · 2 years ago

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Derek Hale x reader - protect you

i was wondering if i could request a derek hale x reader where he’s hurt or having a bad day, and the reader is there to comfort him and help him through it. - @directioner5life 💜

Derek didn’t know where to go, he couldn’t go to the loft, he couldn’t go to Scott or Deacon, nowhere seemed safe for him, not with the alphas trying to run him down.

As he limped through the streets, he stopped at a corner and held a hand around his abdomen, letting out a small breath.

That’s when he remembered there was one place he could go to, one place no supernatural could get into without invite, couldn’t even find without being shown.

He’d only been there a few times, and he wasn’t sure he was welcome but he had no choice, he was bleeding too much and it was the closest and safest place he could go.

Your apartment.

He made his way to the old run down looking building and hauled himself up the stairs.

He reached out door and leant against the wall, knocking on the door lightly as he looked around nervously.

Not even a second had passed and you opened it, ushering him inside before closing and locking the door, laying down mountain ash once more.

“That was quick..” he mumbled.

“Could sense you nearby. Had a feeling you were coming here.”

You took his arm and led him to the table and helped him sit up on it and walked across the room to a cabinet.

“Take your shirt off and lay down.”

“If you wanted me shirtless you didn’t have to ask.” He chuckled.

You didn’t say anything, you simply grabbed everything you were looking for and set them on the table as you looked at the wounds he had.

First you carefully cleaned around them, making sure not to do anything that could agitate them.

“What happened Derek…?” you asked softly.

“Alpha pack.”

You nodded your head and started to clean the gashes, then slowly starting to stitch them up very slowly and gently.

When you finished and you moved everything away and walked back over, peering down at him while he gazed softly up at you.

“You need to be more careful…”

“I know, I know I’m sorry. But they were going after Scott’s mom, what other choice did I have?” He sighed.

“To be more careful that’s what choice Derek. Or at least let me help you.”

“No, it’s too dangerous.”

You rolled your eyes at him and flexed your fingers, showing small flames and sparks before turning your attention back towards the werewolf laying on your table.

“Right, I’m a powerful druid love, I can help you.”

“And I’m not willing to risk you getting hurt. And if you’re a powerful witch you could at least heal this.”

He gestured to his wounds and you shook your head, gently patting his chest.

“You know I can’t, not yet it’ll be too dangerous. There’s always an effect to these kinds of magics.”

Derek sighed and went to sit up but you pushed him back down, hand over his face as you held him to the table.

“Don’t, if you rip those it’ll take longer before I can heal them.”

Derek huffed a little and you smiled, moving your hand away you leant down and softly kissed the top of his head.

“Just stay here for about ten minutes okay, I’ll make something that can hopefully speed that process up.”

Derek nodded and you walked away.

Derek knew you didn’t go far, he could hear you humming under your breath in the next room as you gathered things together.

He could smell the Alphas outside and he started to grow worried, thinking he had made a mistake coming here.

You walked into the room and handed him something.

“Drink.”

Then you walked to the window and pushed it open, leaning on the edge as you peered down at the red eyes that stared up.

“Do not start a war you know you cannot finish Deucalion.”

“I don’t want to start a war with you Druid. I simply want the werewolf you’re hiding.”

You hummed a little.

“If you come anywhere near this building, threaten any more humans I swear to you and your so called pack I will make you all the most cursed, hunted, screwed up werewolves to have ever walked this earth. You will be haunted for your whole lives and you next lives to come.”

Deucalion smiled a little and raised his hand, gesturing for everyone to back off and they did.

“I know not to cross you, I have heard the stories. You have my word that we won’t hurt anymore humans, or your mate.”

With that he walked away with his pack and you turned to Derek who was now sitting up, blood seeping from his wounds.

“Derek!”

Storming over you gently pushed him back down and placed your hand on his forehead, running your fingers through his hair as you looked at him.

As a Druid, you didn’t really care much about anyone, you kept yourself to yourself, but you would do anything for this werewolf, anything

#teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf x you #teen wolf imagine #Derek hale #Derek hale x reader #Derek hale x you #Derek hale imagine

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infamous-if · 1 year ago

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dev update (august 9th 2023)

I'm really bad at doing these, I apologize. I find I prefer just dropping things without much notice haha but since chapter 2 is out I do want to do better at these sort of weekly log things.

Anyway, with the Patreon out I've been having a lot of fun dropping stuff. I have a whole folder of deleted scenes and extra bits that I kept aside collecting dust so that's been fun. I've done a lot with August so far so I'm determined to keep up that momentum, especially since I'm deep in G's POV right now.

I started picking away at Part II. Luckily, I feel it may be shorter than Part I so it won't be too long until I'm dropping it. I'm going to make sure not to change any variables until after it's published so people can just play from where they finished off. Hopefully...if I can avoid it. If I speed run through Part II I feel like I can drop it next month or late this month. I'm not making any promises but if I do, I'll be giving myself a huge pat on the back lmfao.

Since Part I dropped, I've been getting a lot more asks and suggestions. Many people have been suggesting certain choices and reactions and dialogues which is great. People tend to catch things that I don't catch or have ideas that don't come to me so it helps when I go back to rewrite. I can't promise I'll add it but so far I've been getting a lot of good suggestions. I don't respond to them just so I can keep them in one place, so don't think I'm ignoring you! I do read all my questions I just tend to be picky with answering them so as not to flood the dash. I was having a wild idea to make a side account just to answer questions because I wake up to so many that I can hardly handle it and my inbox gives me a bit of a fright every morning lololol I currently have 3.5k questions and I feel terrible every time because I feel like I'm ignoring people.

As I said before, once Part 2 is out I'm going to go through the entire demo with a fine tooth comb and pick it up bit by bit. Improve on it, add dialogue, choices and just fix it up. It won't be a rewrite lol since I like what I have but I think I can improve the prose and the overall...cleanliness? of my writing!

I'm always taking suggestions or anything that may make the game better. I can't do everything but I do try. I'm also always taking song suggestions for the master playlist. I do listen to it when I write so that's fun lol

This was a non update but I do like keeping everyone up to date on what I'm doing! If anyone has suggestions for something August related to do this month, I'm all ears!

#Update #Amy speaks Nonsense

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hi-imlilac · 3 months ago

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Five nights at the mansion (fnaf inspired)

Warning: if you dislike or are uncomfortable with fnaf related stuff, wouldn't suggest continuing from this point. Might get unsettling along the way

Welcome to the mansion!

After receiving an invitation to have a one week stay at a mansion, you decided to give it a try and go for it. You were greeted by a few of the residents before heading to your room to settle in. The time is now 18:30. You feel something unsettling. There's a computer in your room, along with a tape recorder right next to it. One of the residents said your room was the only one in the mansion with access to the cameras, also adding something around the lines of "you're gonna need it." Originally, you had no intentions of using it, but now something within you is screaming at you to do it.

You make your way to the desk and turn it on. Instant regret. You can see blue eyes- or- one blue eye gazing at the camera. The figure itself is motionless. You try remembering who it was. You look at the tape recorder and just as your gut feeling told you to check the cameras, it told you to play it. You hit the play button and hear a feminine voice on the other end.

Hello? For Alan's sake- how do you operate this thing?! I should've just asked Solum to- oh wait is it on? The red light is blinking so maybe... I'll just assume it is.

Hello dear guest! This is Armia ( @armiaochima ) You're probably listening to this because you feel... unsafe, yes? Well, it'sa good thing you are listening to it. Hopefully it's not too late by the time you do.

Listen, this mansion is dangerous. More specifically, four of it's residents. The invitation was a trick to lure you in, and unfortunately it seems to have worked. I promise it's nothing personal, they were just getting restless and needed someone- ANYONE to help satisfy their needs.

Fortunately for you, I'm here to assist you in your survival. It's the least i can do for allowing them to trick you. Follow my instructions and you should make it through the night. They start the hunt at 19:00 and will stop at 06:00

First up is Killer.

Amongst the four dangerous residents, killer is the only girl. And like all girls, she likes her privacy. She will remain in the living room area for the night, pacing around. Her footsteps will be an indicator of this. If her footsteps stop,check the living room camera. She should be standing still for a few moments.

After some time she'll look at the camera. Turn it off as quick as possible and wait 15 seconds. Her footsteps should be heard once again in the same rhythm and area as before. Don't look at her for too long, otherwise she'll get angry.

You'll know you've looked for too long if her footsteps speed up and get louder. This means she's coming to the room. Hide under the desk and wait for her to enter. Once she's in, she'll look for a brief moment before leaving and returning to the living room.

This is all the help I can give you for tonight. If you're still alive by tomorrow, another friend will place a new tape. Good luck.

You were frozen in shock as the tape finished. Dangerous residents? The hunt? Killer? It was a lot to take in at once and you were still processing it. Your attention goes to the clock. 18:45. You have 15 minutes left. You wonder if leaving is still optional, but you feel as though the figure in the camera wouldn't take lightly to such. Fortunately, they stopped staring at the camera. You turn it off. Alright then... if you'll have to do this, might as well prepare yourself. 15 minutes flies by. It's time.

After several close calls, the clock finally strikes 06:00. You see her return to her room. Thank Becker. You were so drowsy and nearly slipped up a couple of times, even making the mistake of dozing off while looking at her. Boy, you've never felt so scared to have someone else come to your room, especially a pissed off girl. You were so tired you fell asleep throughout the most of the day.

You woke up at around 16:25. Enough time to go greet everyone and get something to eat. SurprisingSurprisingly enough, lilac looked a bit annoyed and displeased to see you. Perhaps she remembers what she attempted last night and was mad you survived? Whatever. You were about to leave but a storm rolled in. It was too heavy to risk it and you were practically blinded by the lightening. Another night, you guess. Another night and then you'll leave.

You return to the room to find a new tape. It's 18:25, so you got a good amount of time to prepare. You play the tape, your eyebrows raising when you here a new voice. This one is male.

Hey buddy. Glad you survived night one of your nightmare. You pissed off killer real good! Anyways, this is Duck ( @louistheduck ) and you're stuck with me for your guide. Aren't you just blessed, huh?

Anyways, tonight you'll be dealing with TG. By the way, I'm referring to Tea Green. @alexartink

They're a plush sized grinch who likes blowing up stuff. He's not a problem if you're not a problem, so pay attention.

TG spends his time in the garden. If you hear an explosion, look out the window. Is he still there? If so, be at ease. He's just playing around. If he's not, look through the cameras until you see him. Do this quickly, he's not gonna wait for you.

once you find him he should stop moving. He'll stay still for a bit before leaving to go back to the garden. For TG, getting caught ruins the fun. However, if you hear his footsteps near, hide under the desk. You took too long to find him and he's arrived at your room. He's not as patient as killer and will probably leave as soon as he sees you're not there.

That's all for tonight. Don't let the bed bugs bite. See ya.... if ya survive that is, haha.

Something about how nonchalant he was about the possibility of not making through the night sent shivers down your spine. Like he didn't care if you survived or not. The thought leaves you feeling somewhat insignificant, but you brush it off. Time to focus.

06:00, at last! TG was a force to be reckoned with, and killer still being there made it no easier. But you made it. And you fell asleep again the next day. Not surprising. TAO seems a bit tired herself. So does Lilac. I guess they technically didn't sleep, since they were too busy hunting me down. It's still raining hard. Strange that TG stayed out there even in this weather. You know by now what happens. You go to your room, the new tape is already there. You play it. Another voice, feminine, but not Armia.

Ok good,it's on. Hey buddy. I'm surprised to see you're still alive. Good job though. This is Solum ( @s0lie )and by now you get the idea. Tonight will be Red @mar-doce0

Red is not one to faf around with. He wants to catch you, and he wants to do it now. He does, however, demand your attention for the night's. It's strange but oh well.

There should be the sound of silverware or just metal downstairs in the kitchen. He's looking for something. Now, you don't have tp keep an eye on him like the other two. But you do need to listen for him a lot, especially if the sound of metal stops. His footsteps are heavier and louder than TG and Killer, don't mix them!

That desk is your best friend, because you'll be hiding under it when he enters. He's somewhat not patient with such, but he'll he'll willing to wait five seconds before leaving. Hopefully this is enough to help you. Fortunately he only comes around 3-4 times. See ya. Don't die.

Hm. That was actually both helpful yet terrifying. Red sounds scarier since I can't rely on visual aid with him, but as long as what solum said is true I should be fine. And so the night begins.

Finally... 06:00... last night was hectic. Solum never said he was fast! That muthfuqa nearly caught you twice! The routine stays the same as the past two nights, fall asleep during the day, wake up and exist, the three hunters from last night are either angry or tired, blah blah blah. It's still raining. By now you've accepted that you're not getting out of this that easily. Just play their games and you may live. By 18:00 you're in the room. New tape, new voice. Feminine again.

Woah... You survived three nights... congrats man. But they all grow restless and more infuriated. For this, you have my guidance. I'm Luna ( @thesecondlight-luna ) for the record

Tonight you'll be dealing with Black @thewhiteguy

Black is not easy to read. He's cold to some, nice to others. But to you, he's gonna be ruthless. Usually he spends his time writing in the garden, but the rain stops such. So he's in the library. Don't look through another camera unless it's to look for TG or watch killer.

Watch him at all times. If you need to change the camera, always go back to check. Is he still there? If not, hide. You can't depend on sound when it comes to him. Fortunately he's just as impatient as the others. He'll leave after 5 seconds as well.

I wish you the best of luck

Why were they just getting harder and harder?! I mean, yeah, I wasn't expecting us to hold hands and sing khumbaya, but I also wasn't expecting this!!! Ugh, whatever. Suck it up, we've got a long night ahead of us.

Aaaaaaand 06:00!!! FINALLY! Last night was absolute chaos! The amount of times i nearly got caught- DANG! I just wanna leave this place! It always the same routine even today! But hey, the rain is simmering down. Maybe I can leave by tomorrow morning. Once again it's a new tape.

Armia:you did it.... You survived till night five... as impressed as I am, I've never seen them this angry before Duck: I'm surprised you made it so far. They're all absolutely pissed too. It'd Ite funny, if I didn't have to deal with whatever the aftermath May be. Solum: you're interesting, y'know? Accepting the invitation here was a guarantee, but staying? Why would you wish to stay in a place like this? Cuz of some rain? Luna: this is probably the last time you hear us. I'm sorry you had to be the unfortunate victim in this. We can't save you. Not tonight.

Strange. No new hunter? They were all on the tape to... tonight will be difficult, but I've made it too far to quit now. I have to survive. I WILL survive!

06:00... it's finally 06:00.... but why haven't they moved?.... they're still there, frozen... what's going on?... am I ok now?... wait... wait wait wait- NO! They're all coming! Why are they all coming?! You hide under the desk. You see them all enter. A squeak escapes your mouth when they lift it up with ease. You're cornered.

"Finally, we meet dear."

"After so long of chasing you... we finally got you."

"You were persistent, I'll give you that."

"But in the end it was all inevitable, pointless even"

That was the last time you heard or saw anyone before they-

-System disconnected-

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gabessquishytum · 1 year ago

Note

I was thinking about rich bitch Hob, so now, here:

Hob the widower, being “framed” for his husband murder.

Ofc he kill him!!!!!

The old man was boring, he was a pervert, always chasing young men and women, even thought he had an amazing specimen (Hob) as his husband, besides, that man was already going to kick the bucket, so why not speed up that process?

As per usual, Hob contacted his favorite lawyer (and friend) for cases like this.

Not like he had already “lost” four husbands before the “current” one in a span of 10 years, of course, it´s only a coincidence Hob always widows rich old men!!!

Desire tells him that they are tight busy atm, but they will send an equally (if not a little less ◀ Desire´s words) qualified lawyer to help Hob.

Before the first meeting Hob was very anxious, he trusts Desire, but not having them as partner in crime (heh) is already making him feel ill and overall, very down (which, tbh, being in that state of mind helps A LOT in the pictures for the media and maintaining the façade of “sorrowful widower that has been wrongfully pointed as the sole culprit of his husband death”)

But once the gorgeous, regal and very professional Dream enters the picture all worries go away…and panties too.

From Dream´s side, he immediately knew from all evidence that Hob was indeed guilty of his husband murder, but somehow, in between his commitment to his job and the feelings developing towards Hob he let it pass…after all he has a job to do, and he plans to do it as his life depends on it….

(he wants to bang Hob sooooooooooooooooooo bad and that won´t happen if Hob is in jail)

At the end of the trial (in which Hob comes out as innocent) only a week has passed, and Hob has already a new (and hopefully) long lasting, loving, faithful husband 🥰

And if Hob ever finds himself bored of Dream (that case being totally bonkers, both are so into the other in a not healthy way) Dream built an archive of all Hob previous trials.

(maybe he went into Desire´s place to search for those…putting into use his old lock-picking skills when he was a private investigator…)

Just in case he needs to use that info to keep Hob close to him (threats) forever (Hob looooooooves that about Dream👌 "YES YES!! YES MY DREAM BE MEAN, BE POSSESSIVE, MANIPULATE MEEE"◀ Hob mind )

Black widow Hob!!!! Fuck yeah!!!!

I love that he found the perfect husband in Dream, of course....... and I can't help but think that these kinky bastards probably use Hob’s criminal history as dirty talk.

When Hob is riding on Dream’s cock, circling his hips and moving with torturous precision, he likes to lean down and wrap his lovely tanned hand around Dream’s slim throat. He'll just rub against his pulse point and grin, and squeeze his hole tight around Dream’s dick. "You know, this is how I finished off number 2. I didn't strangle him, I just put a little pressure right here... and it was too much. His poor old heart just gave out. With his cock right up inside me."

And Dream can't help but moan and cum right there and then.

Or sometimes Hob will be on all fours, having his arse heartily spanked while Dream simultaneously fucks him. He'll whine and plead for mercy, but Dream will lean in and whisper in his ear. "No mercy, darling. Be a good boy for me, otherwise I might start letting things slip..... just like number 3 "slipped" in the shower and cracked his skull open. Let me fill you up, and I will keep quiet about how you pushed him over."

Hob nearly collapses face down on the mattress, he's so turned on. He knows and loves that deep down, Dream is just as dark and awful as he is. He's absolutely keeping Dream forever and ever, even in hell <3

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw murder #cw death

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decks-writing-blog · 5 months ago

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Gordon Swap Chapter Three: Mirrored

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

Time was of the essence. There was little of it to spare when every minute that passed was another that the current disaster was allowed to continue, undoubtedly resulting in more death. At the same time though, preparedness was the thing that had reduced Gordon’s death count the most. So he moved fast, checking every room and breaking any boxes that looked like they might have something useful in them.

Blessedly only a few rooms after having settled back into this pattern of movement they walked into the aftermath of a battle. Who won didn’t matter because it meant the room was littered with dead aliens and more importantly, dead military. Guns of various sorts, ammo, grenades, and ooh, more trip mines and C4, Gordon gathered it all. He was armed and armored again at last.

Halfway through he was brought to a pause by a melodic tone, not immediately recognizable as any instrument he knew of. Straightening from the corpse he’d just finished looting, he looked for its source. … His guard companion was looking down at the bodies that been been brutalized particularly badly. A string of colourful light came from his mouth as did the sound. Seemingly anyway, it wasn’t the kind of sound a human should be able to make but the colorful lights orbs also shouldn’t be of human origin.

As the note ended, the light ceased flowing – confirming both were from him – and he looked up at Gordon. Did he expect a response? Gordon would’ve loved to ask him what that was and how he’d done it but had no easy way to communicate with him. It was cool though, whatever it was, so Gordon lifted a hand to give him a quick thumbs up before turning his attention to back to looting.

A beat of silence before the guard spoke. “You lost you’re voice, huh? From screaming too loud. Real dumb thing to do. Shouldn’t have screamed so loud, dummy.” Poor guy was still delusional. Though maybe that was for the best if it kept him from going catatonic instead. “Bet you regret that. Not being able to talk must suck real hard.”

It didn’t suck at all actually. Inconvenient at times, sure, but mostly it was a fine way of being. But if there was any way to help the poor guy, Gordon didn’t know how. So he didn’t even bother to look up as he continued his resource gathering.

Once he had everything he could carry of all that was available, he exited, trusting his companion to follow as he’d been doing. This time he fell in step with Gordon. “How long this no voice thing going to last?”

Even if Gordon’s hands weren’t clinging to his newly acquired shotgun, he wouldn’t have bothered with an answer. He didn’t have time to try to figure out how to convey to this guy that he was having a stress-induced delusion of some sort.

“I mean, your hand grew back real fast so why isn’t your voice healing fast too? Doesn’t make sense.”

Gordon kept walking. They had to be near the end of this lab soon. Perhaps he should leave this guy here. It seemed fairly safe.

“You not being able to talk is boring.”

The company was nice though. Gordon had been alone for most of this journey so far with only the occasional companion guided to a hopefully safe spot. So he’d let this guy follow him for a little while longer. He could reset if he had to so he didn’t have to stress too much about preventing anything.

“You’re not even making faces at me anymore. It’s like talking to a wall. … We should go back and find the others. All the way back to the beginning, sounds fun, huh?”

Ah, he had other friends. Or had, they might be dead too. For his sake, hopefully not, Gordon wasn’t going to hold his breath though. He could reset to try to save them but had no idea where or when they might’ve died.

The guard stayed silent for a while, clearly waiting for some kind of response. When he didn’t get one, he dropped back to resume trailing along at his own inconsistent speed once more.

If only Gordon could reset to before the Resonance Cascade. That would save everyone, the only way to do so. He’d already tried though, twice. Presumably it was the cause of his power and thus he couldn’t go back to before it. So with nothing else to do, he just kept going forward.

Up ahead around the next bend the familiar crackle of portals opening was followed by shouts and gunfire. More of the military. Gordon slowed as he reached that corner. Popping the helmet up, he pressed himself to the wall and peeked around.

Ah, the tram platform. The opposite side was where many of the aliens had teleported in. On this side, were the military. They were firing at each other, bullets and lightening streaks ripping across the divide. Good. They’d kill each other and then Gordon would…

The guard had slowed with him but now started around the bend as if unconcerned about the possibility of death. Or maybe his delusion extended into not recognizing this situation as dangerous. Which it was didn’t matter, Gordon grabbed his elbow and pulled him back.

He let out a small sound of surprise. “Hey man, what the…”

Pressing him against the wall, Gordon pressed his other hand over his mouth, cutting him off. Instead of struggling as would’ve been expected, he stuck his tongue out, slipping it between Gordon’s fingers. It looked almost purple in the dim light of hall and was certainly quite long to snake all the way across his palm and between his fingers like that. If it was meant to gross Gordon out into removing his hand, it failed; he couldn’t feel it through the HEV suit’s glove.

He held him there for the few seconds it took for the sounds of violence around the bend to cease. Letting go, Gordon lifted a finger to his lips – the one not covered in the guard’s spit – in a request for silence.

“Why we being sneaky all of the sudden?” He at least had the decency to whisper.

Ignoring him, Gordon peeked back around the corner. … The military side had won, leaving a handful of their number still alive. Pulling back, he crouched down to sit up a trip wire, placed so it shouldn’t be visible until rounding the corner at which point it should be too late to stop running to avoid it. Careful of it, he drew his revolver and leaned back around the corner.

One of the military goons was turned his way and seemed to be heading to guard this direction. He opened his mouth but before he could get a word out, Gordon shot him in the head. Yes! Bullseye! His aim was getting better.

Not waiting for the body to finish dropping to the floor, Gordon jerked back. Hooking his companion by the elbow – he no longer entirely trusted the guy to be keep himself safe – Gordon quickly backpedaled away from the trip mine, angling himself so that he was in front of the guard. They were just barely clear of its blast radius when the military squad rounded the corner and ran right into it, setting it off with a deafening explosion. One goon round the corner a bit late, skidding to a hall at the sight and sound of his companions’ death. Still ready with the revolver, Gordon shot him in the head. He crumpled to the floor, dead.

Other than the ringing in Gordon’s ears silence settled on the gory scene. He stood waiting to see if anyone else would arrive around the corner. … Seemingly his trap had got all of them though.

“Wow,” his companion said, seemingly unbothered by how close he’d just been to an explosion. “You got good at killing stuff.”

It was either get good at killing the military goons or continue to die to them over and over again until he lost whatever was left of his sanity. Even if he’d had a way to convey that thought, he probably wouldn’t have as who could possibly believe that time reset when he died? It sounded like utter nonsense. So he only shrugged his shoulders before unhooking his arm from his companion – perhaps he should try to get his name – before walking forward to look for anything useful among the goons’ remains.

More ammo which was nice. Around the bend, they had had some med-kits that allowed him to top off the suit’s reserve medical gel. He handed one to his companion as well as he’d might’ve been inflicted with hearing damage from the explosion. And maybe it might help with his shock or whatever it was making him act strange.

Not accepting it, he stared at Gordon. “You steal that?” Clearly whatever was wrong with him was affecting his priorities.

Gordon didn’t have time to deal with it, not that he even knew how to. So instead he pressed the med-kit against the guard’s vest and let go, expecting him to catch it. He didn’t, instead letting it fall to the floor in front of him. Whatever. If he didn’t think he needed it, Gordon wasn’t going to make him.

He turned away and started for the tram’s computer system. Even if taking it wasn’t an option, he should be able to figure out where he was and more important where to go to get to the Lambda Lab.

“Off to steal more stuff, huh? Can’t um, can’t let you do that.” The guard followed. He tried to step in front of Gordon before he could reach the tram’s office. A quick left-right juke got Gordon past though.

Inside, the computer was already on, depicting the map of the tram system, spanning almost the whole facility. It was wrong. … Or no, not wrong but mirrored. Not the writing but everything else was. What an odd glitch. Perhaps it was a prank that someone had been trying to pull before hell broke loose. Whatever. It still told Gordon where he was and thus where he had to go in order to reach the Lambda Lab.

As he turned to exit, the guard was blocking his way again. “You’re not supposed to be in here without your passport.” Wow, poor guy must be really going through it to have lost his place in reality so thoroughly.

Gordon patted him tenderly on the shoulder before pushing past him with as little force as he could.

“Hey man, you can’t do that. At least say something, huh? Your voice has got be better by now, right? What the hell man?”

Gordon would have to find somewhere safe to leave this befuddled fellow sometime soon probably. As nice as more permanent company would be it just wasn’t safe with him. The military wanted him specifically after all, and maybe it was just his imagination but the aliens had been appearing right next to him more and more until recently. Whether or not that pattern would resume, if it was even real, remained to be seen. But regardless he wasn’t running away from the danger but instead towards trying to fix it. Having to watch out for his pal who barely even knew what was happening as well as keeping himself alive was a tall order even with his reset ability. For now though, as long as the guy wanted to keep following, Gordon would let him.

***

Barney moved fast. Which made sense, perfectly logical in fact. The faster they moved the sooner they could get out or at least not be so out in the open. But being knocked unconscious didn’t count as sleep, it kind of felt like the opposite actually. Gordon was weary in mind and body, going fast was the last thing he wanted to do.

He wasn’t going to complain… yet. Eventually he would but if he made too much of nuisance of himself Barney might abandon him too. He’d be justified in doing so, wouldn’t he? Gordon would be little to no help in keeping either of them alive. In fact he’d be an active burden. And he’d already been betrayed and abandoned once so what if…

“Yo, clone-Gordon,” Barney said as he stepped into one of the lab. “Looks like some military guys died in here.”

Gordon of course followed him into the room if for no other reason than to stop walking for a little bit. “And that’s relevant to me, why?”

“Guns. Specifically handguns because you only have the one hand.” Barney took one such gun off the nearest corpse. A small pistol but when it came to firearms, size didn’t really matter that much.

“It’s my left though and I’m not left-handed so not exactly helpful. I wouldn’t be able to hit anything.” He’d once had the thought of training himself to be ambidextrous but had only practiced writing with his left hand a grand total of twice before giving up. If only he’d kept with it.

Holding the pistol by the barrel, Barney offered it to him anyway. “Better than just a crowbar though. And if you’re up against a human, all you might need to do is point it and pretend like you can use it and they might back off.”

With a sigh, Gordon took it. It felt weird and wrong in his hand. Though really it was odd that a gun had ever felt natural hold.

“Practice with it a bit, there’s plenty of ammo in this room.”

Gordon couldn’t exactly pretend that arming himself was a bad idea even if it was much harder now. Especially since he’d just been thinking about how much dead weight he was to Barney. So as Barney moved aside, he awkwardly popped up the HEV suit’s helmet to act as ear protection before aiming at the alien corpse in the corner.

He took his time on the shot, lining it up with the head. It was close enough that he would’ve trusted himself to hit if it were his right hand. Before he could hesitate too long he pulled the trigger. … The head didn’t explode – not that they actually did that when shot by normal pistols anyway, movies lied. Instead the bullet went way to the left and too far up. Worse than the first time he’d ever shot a gun.

“You were kinda close… maybe,” Barney said. “I don’t really know what you were aiming for though.”

“The head.”

“Ooh, yeah, uh… I’ve seen worse. Keep trying while I loot the rest of them.” He lightly patted Gordon on the shoulder before moving on to do so.

With nothing else to do, Gordon obeyed. By the time the clip was empty his hand hurt from the recoil but he had hit the corpse in the chest. It would take a lot longer to really get the hang of aiming with his left hand but it was possible. A new problem presented itself though… “I can’t reload it.”

Barney returned to his side to take it from him and reload it for him. “Lucky you got me then. Hopefully you won’t need to use it too often anyway. It’s mostly a just in case thing, you know? Anyway, I’m done here so let’s go.” He handed the gun back. “We should be nearing the end of the lab and then we can get a read on where we are and should go next.”

“Do you think we could walk a bit slower? I’m uh…” He gestured vaguely with his stump. A valid excuse to be exhausted, right?

“Oh uh, yeah, of course.” True to his word, he went a bit slower as he lead the way back out into the hall. Which allowed Gordon to easily fall into pace with him. Which he apparently took as an invitation to chat. “So… you sure you don’t know anything about my buddy Gordon?

“I’m sure.”

Barney nodded as if he’d expected that answer. “I’m sure he’s probably all right. Maybe we’ll even run into him eventually and then we can ask him if he knows he’s been cloned.”

Gordon still didn’t want to believe that but he also still couldn’t come up with anything that would prove even to just himself he wasn’t a clone. But if they were talking about people they knew though… “You know a guy name Benrey? He’s a security guard in the uh… lab I work in. Or at least, he pretends to be one.” The other guard present hadn’t been bothered by Benrey’s presence but maybe he’d been in on the prank.

“Uh, nope. Odd name though. It short for something?”

“Maybe, I don’t know, didn’t ask him.” He’d been a bit too distracted by how annoyed he’d been with Benrey most of the time he’d been around for to even think to ask such a question. “What about Dr. Bubby, you know him?”

“Is there really someone named Dr. … Bubby? No problem if that’s really the guy’s name or whatever, lots of folk got weird names but… Bubby, really?”

“That’s what he said his name was when I asked. What about Tommy uh… actually I don’t think I know his last name.”

“My pal Gordon used to have a cat name Tommie but don’t think I ever knew a person called that.”

Gordon really shouldn’t have expected anything different. Big facility and all. But it would’ve been nice if Barney knew them to make it easier to complain to him about how weird his prior companions were. Though Gordon might fit in with their weirdness more than he’d thought since he was apparently maybe a clone. Speaking of clones though… “What about a Dr. Coomer?”

“Ah! Him I do know. Or I guess ‘know’ isn’t the right word. I heard of him. He’s one of the guys who were involved in that other cloning thing I told you about earlier. I remember ‘cause he’s got a funny name. Some of the uh… other guards used to make some not polite jokes about it. Not me of course. I would never.”

As far as Gordon could tell Barney was telling the truth but what the hell did he knew about reading people? There were more important things to worry about right now anyway. “You mean the clone thing that you said failed?”

“Yep.”

“Well uh… it didn’t fail then. I was traveling with him before this happened,” he indicated his stump, “and we kept running into his clones. He had to kill them because… actually I don’t know why, he just said he had to kill them so I figured he probably had a good reason.” And if clones had a good reason to be killed then their betrayal definitely made sense. Maybe they hadn’t suspected he was one at first so they stuck with him for a while and then felt too bad to kill him themselves once they found out so tried to get the military to do it. But joke’s on them, Gordon was still alive and mostly intact.

Barney shrugged. “Maybe, I don’t know. They were certainly supposed to be dangerous so killing them if they got out makes sense. I’d heard the guy died to his clones though and after that they got violent towards everyone and had to be put down. But, you know, like most of what anyone hears about what goes on ‘round here, that’s just a rumor. Who knows how much if any of it is actually true, huh?”

“Yeah.” Gordon had certainly heard some weird rumors about stuff that went on around other parts of the facility before. Very little of it was actually allowed to be talked about and thus only of rumors and hearsay went around whenever something big happened. In hindsight maybe he should’ve paid more attention and gotten out of here before such a disaster could occur. It had basically been inevitable with how much fucked up shit supposedly happened in the building, right?

They walked in silence for a while after that. Blessed, sweet silence of people who knew how to shut the fuck up because things were serious. … Except it didn’t feel particularity blessed. After so much chatter for so long, it felt wrong. The weight of the facility seemed to hang heavier over Gordon’s head without the distraction of his prior companions’ antics. He wasn’t going to be the one who talked endlessly though. Doing so would not only make him a hypocrite but also a nuisance.

Eventually, finally, noise came from up ahead, around a bend. Gunfire and shouting. Damn it. More military just what they needed.

By the time they reached it, silence had returned. Clutching his shotgun, Barney peeked around the corner. He pulled back after a few seconds. “Aliens killed a squad of military guys. You stay here, I’ll take them out.”

“Uh… yeah, good idea,” Gordon whispered back even though Barney was already moving again. He sounded like he knew what he was doing though so Gordon was more than happy to stay here and not try to help. Losing a hand, especially one’s dominant hand, was a perfectly valid excuse to do so, right? He’d just get in the way if he tried. No need to feel bad or like a coward or whatever.

More gunfire came from around the corner as well as some alien lightening sounds. Soon after it had that stopped, Barney poked his head back around the corner. “Got ‘em. And we found our way to a tram station. Obviously they don’t work but their computer should have a map of the facility so we can maybe find a way out of here.”

“Uh… great. Let’s go.” He followed Barney around the bend, quickly finding himself in what was indeed a tram station littered with corpses.

The office was on the other side so they had to lower the bridge over the gap, using a lever. Its gears ground against against each other and whirred loudly the whole way down but if anything or anyone heard they didn’t come to investigate. The silence had an ominous vibe after it finally settled but Gordon ignored it as he followed Barney across.

In the office, the computer was already on. Barney stepped to one side of the monitor so Gordon could see it too. On screen was a map of the tram system, spanning almost the entire facility. It was wrong though. … Or no, not wrong. … “It’s mirrored.”

Barney looked up at him. “Huh?”

“The map. It’s mirrored. Like, not the words but everything else is.”

“Uh… the stress must be getting to you pal ‘cause nothing’s odd about the map. Don’t worry, it’s quite the situation we got here so it makes sense, to be a bit out of it.”

“I swear to god if you’re pulling some shit to mess with me I’m gonna… I don’t know. Nothing, I’m gonna do nothing because I can’t do anything. They cut off my fucking hand so I’m useless now. It’s mirrored. The map is mirrored. Don’t lie and say it’s not.”

Barney stared at him in shocked silence for several seconds before turning his attention back on the computer. “Whatever you say pal. The map’s mirrored. I know where we are though. Not too, too far from the old lab with that machine I told you about. It malfunctioned once but it seemed to work just fine for everyone else who used it. So it might be worth it to head down that way and see if we can’t try again. I know you’re a clone but you’re still a scientist, right? So do you thing you might be able to figure out how it works? Enough to operate it anyway.”

Snapping at him had been a mistake. He’d been the most normal person Gordon had interacted with since arriving at work – which, coupled with everything else he’d gone through was why he’d been so ready to snap but that didn’t make it okay. Assuming he’d actually arrived at all. Maybe he thought the map was flipped because he was a clone with nothing but implanted memories and that one had gotten flipped somehow. Or maybe he was just going crazy. Heck, maybe he was dead and this was hell or perhaps purgatory. Before figuring any of that nonsense out though came not dying so…

“Yeah, I’m a scientist. I could probably figure it out.” He put more confidence in his voice than he actually felt. It would depend a lot on what kind of machine it was. But to make up for being rude, he should make himself useful. Plus if it could indeed get them the hell out of here, it’d be worth it to at least try. Let the others continue the journey to the Lambda Lab to fix this, not that he trusted them to be able to. Or heck, didn’t Barney say that that was what the Gordon Freeman he knew intended to do? So it wasn’t something Gordon had to concern himself with anymore… even if it did feel cowardly to just run away especially after he’s the one who caused it. What else could he do though? They’d cut off his hand!

“Great. Let’s go.” Transgression apparently forgotten for now, Barney turned and marched out. Gordon followed. He was apparently the annoying sometimes rude follower now.

Next Chapter

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

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dragon-creates · 1 year ago

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bowuigi werewolf fic premise

"Help...get help..."

That was the last thing Luigi heard Mario say, watching his brother's complexion fade from pale beige to translucent white, a pained scream escaping the red plumber's throat before his human form was replaced with a terrifying boo instead.

It had been a while since Luigi had seen King Boo, hoping that he was finished with the poltergeist's schemes. But it seems that the undead monarch had other plans.

At first it started out the same, E. Gadd requested for his help at a new mansion, Mario had been captured as well and Luigi spent most of his adventure sucking up ghosts while collecting any money he found along the way.

Expect it wasn't E. Gadd who was asking for him to come, and Mario was only bait for a trap laid out by King Boo. Soon, the brothers were trapped in separate cages, the older trying to comfort the younger as best he could until King Boo came back holding two potions.

Luigi was first, being levitated out of the cage by two other boos holding onto his arms as the king forced the liquid down his throat, making sure he downed every last drop. Once the bottle was empty, Luigi was thrown to the floor as a sharp pain pierced threw his spine.

His bones cracked as his clothes began to tear and his body shifted and molded into something totally inhuman. The green human watched in horror as fur protruded from his skin and his mouth stretched and twisted into a snout. Luigi wanted to scream, but he was in so much pain that he barely has any energy to make no more than a whine. When it was done, he looked down to see that his hands were now paws and a tail was poking through his overalls. His stomach churned when he realized that King Boo and managed to accomplish turning him into a werewolf.

He all but collapsed on the floor, helpless to do anything but watch King Boo take the other potion and repeat everything with his brother. He knew he couldn't just lay here, he had to do something!

When he successfully managed to stand on all fours for the first time, he turned to his brother, who had unfortunately drank his potion as well, leading to Mario turning into a boo and whispering his last sentence to Luigi.

Adrenaline kicked in, his new nose twitched, his fur stood on end, everything felt alive! Once King Boo turned back to face the younger brother, the new wolf was already bolting out the door, his new form giving his an unimaginable speed he never felt or saw before.

He ran through each hallway, past each ghost and boo, not bothering to look back as he managed to escape through the mansion doors and into the nearest pipe he could find, ignoring King Boo's shrieks of anger.

On the other side, the adrenaline was finally fading away, leaving Luigi to hobble throughout wherever he landed upon. His bleary eyes took in their surroundings as best as they could, lit up by the bright moon, there was something familiar about the rock and lava he passed but he was too tired to let himself remember.

Finally, he came across a huge fortress, hopefully whoever was in there could help him. He lifted a paw to pitifully scratch at the door, pleading interally that someone would answer, every second he could feel himself wasting away.

As though his prayers were answered, the doors opened, revealing an extremely large and confused koopa. Only it wasn't any koopa, the last of his lucidity kicked in when he realized that it was none other than King Bowser who answered the door.

"Wha?- What is the meaning of this?!" he demanded, "Why the hell is there a mutt at my castle?!"

He tried to give a response, but the sun began to rise and he let out a pained whine as his bones cracked and clicked back into his human form, ready to repeat the process for every morning and evening to come.

"Luigi?" the koopa's harsh gaze was gone, replaced with confusion and a lace of worry?

"Please," Luigi whimpered, "I have nowhere else to go."

He stumbled, slumber catching up to him as he fainted, only for Bowser to catch him and hold the human in his arms.

"Easy there greenie," Bowser murmured as Luigi drifted into sleep. Bowser's heart plummeted at the state the plumber was in, "Oh Luigi, what happened to you?"

Feel free to use this as inspiration for any fics you want to write!!! <3<3<3

#tw: body horror #tw: body disfigurement #I wanted to write something for the spoopy season #how about some good old fashion angst and the 'i had nowhere else to go' trope #bowuigi #luigi #bowser #mario #mario bros #mario movie #super mario bros #luigi brain rot #luigi my beloved #dragon rambles #my writing #fanfic #fanfiction #werewolf!luigi #boo!mario

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saltofmercury · 2 years ago

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Realistic

Pairing: John Price x f!reader

Author's note: I wanted to write a little bit for Price, but jfc I think I'm a König girl till I die and I don't see what y'all see in Price. Also I will not be writing a part 2 to this. >:) unless..

tags: @sofasoap, @bunky101, (sorry bunky I know you're a guy) the main thirsty people for Price on my dash.

"Realistic"

Heat crept up in your ears. His cheeks flushed with pink. There's a mesh of bodies between you two, not sure who belongs to who. Large hands come to cup your face, smoothing your lip with their thumb. He holds your face, sighing into complete bliss. You’ve got your hair matted behind you, but your breathing normal again.

“I’m not sure I’ve experienced that before, pet,” he sighs again, smiling softly into your face, fanning you with some of his breath.

You feel some heat rise into your tummy, and your cheeks, thankfully it won’t give away. The pet names were something you needed to get used to, so you offer him a small smile, and roll your eyes shut.

He groans as he gets up, but it’s not due to age, but because of pliability. He’s not used to such strange positions. He’s used to jumping out of planes, crawling around sketchy places, and being in extreme temperatures.

At Price’s age, everything is different.

So when he’s tangled in bed with you, the positions you're yelling at him, come at a rapid speed you’re begging him to move into. He’s on his knees, on his back, towering over you, pulling your legs up, and the temperature in his body is the only one that rises.

Because of his wise years, he’s learned to take his time, really be in the moment with you — his bird. He relishes his time with you, glad that he was able to meet you right after his previous mission.

You had stumbled upon him at a pub, visiting a friend. Sat in the middle of the bar, you sipped on your pint, when an older gentleman sat four stools down — could not keep his eyes away from you. You felt his gaze on you for the past 30 minutes, you were sick of it. You snapped your head his way, giving him a death glare.

He laughed, continued to sip on his drink,

“Whoa there pet did not mean to trouble you.”

Pet. The small name made you soften up a bit, realizing he was just innocently sitting by himself sipping on his drink, he hadn’t even said one word to you to disrupt you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, “My friends have been running late, it's already been 30 minutes.”

He grumbled, “Any of my men caught coming in late, I would assume they’re being insubordinate.”

“Your men?” You questioned. Who was this guy?

“Military…we’re used to being on time if not early.”

“Ah…” you said quietly, then turned to the door once more. Great some fucking patriotic old man was trying to hit on you.

“Don’t tell me I’ve lost ya, pet.”

You blush again, the goddamn name, filling your head with softness. You did not want any part of that. First he was clearly older than you, you weren’t sure as to why he would see anything in you, and now he had just revealed he was in the military. Next thing you know he’s going to admit he’s married while blatantly hitting on you.

“Didn’t lose me,” you lie. “Just wondering where my friend is.” You purse your lips and make eye contact with his paperwork then back at him.

“You just look busy.” You address the files he’s got on the bar, hopefully giving him a nudge towards his paperwork and to leave you alone.

“Nothing I can’t finish tomorrow,” he states, closing the file and packing it away.

Your friend didn’t end up showing, and before you knew it you were about one stool away from him now, chatting up about weekend plans.

You stare at him— he’s got an impressive watch, his clothes– mundane, basic, and patternless. You stared at his shoes for too long wondering how on Earth he would walk in those hiking boots around here.

However, aside from judging him on outer exteriors,

His conversation is fun and light. You assumed it would be him talking down to you, but surprisingly he’s not one to make you feel smaller, or younger than him, he’s lovely and charming, and loves to ask you questions on your boring little life.

Yes, he’s got a weird mustache that blends into his beard, but his hair is combed nicely to the side, and he’s ordering one of the most expensive bourbons this bar owns. He’s just mature, is the way you want to convince yourself about him. He probably invests in stocks and has cash flow for a rainy day. While you barely scrape by and have moved to a different company twice this year.

It doesn’t matter because you’re not going to see him ever again.

Or not.

By the end of the night it’s you who ends up giving him your phone number, worried that he might call instead of text you.

Five dates later, you’re in your apartment now pinned beneath him. He’s a big softie, but when it comes to making love his military ego comes out making sure you’re following his every order.

“Say it, pet”

“I….”

He takes a hold of your two hands with one of his, rubs down your neck, breasts, and stomach until he’s at the top of your clit, he puts his thumb in his mouth to wet it, then back on you. He plays with you, making you gush with fireworks inside your stomach, and warm colors in your head.

You groan, your eyebrows push together as you bite your bottom lip. You’re unsure of what’s about to happen next, and you don’t, won’t cave so easy to this man. Even though he’s making you feel so so so good.

“Say it, pet” he’s removed his thumb from you and moved it to your mouth now, playing delicately with your bottom lip. He’s thrusting so slowly, tenderly inside you, slipping in and out making you squirm even more. How gentle he is with each stroke.

Your emotions are being played with, which only ignites a harsher warmth in the pit of your stomach, staring at the man on top of you, biting your bottom lip, smiling, and happy you’ve met him. You’re grinning from ear to ear, when you close your eyes and say what he wants to hear.

“I love feeling you inside me.”

He’s smiling now. But that’s not going to make him stop. You didn’t say the word cock, which is what’s inside you.

“What do you like feeling, pet?”

Fuck. He’s onto you, he knows he won’t stop teasing you until you feed his ego.

“My fingers pet? Is that what you want inside you?”

You groan knowing that even if he did replace his cock with his fingers, he knows every curve and every nerve on you, begging you to bend at his will.

“I– uh..I love feeling your cock inside me.”

And there it is.

He is relishing in the fact that he’s got a cute little bird like you, that he’s still got the touch to make you squirm and moan beneath him. He wasn’t a man of one night stands, which explains his current company for the past few weeks, and he’s willing to make it official.

You both finish, and you’re back where you started, him complimenting you on how vibrant and alluring you are in bed. You love to hold onto this small euphoria between you two.

That is, until you mention his job.

It’s an innocent question, you ask him one night while you’re curled on the couch, trying to peek at him at your dinner table filling out reports.

"What are you working on?"

“That’s classified, pet.” He dismisses you as he has before.

Then one night you’re at his place and you see the tactical vest he’s got in the closet.

“What’s this?” You ask innocently, touching one of the pockets, until he’s shoved you aside and closed the closet door.

“I don’t want you touching my things. Is that clear?” He’s got a different tone to his voice and it bothers you because you’re not one of his men for him to be speaking to you like that.

“Don’t talk to me like that. I’m just asking a question.” You spit back.

“I’ve told you not to pry into my job, it’s classified business.”

He pushes you further away.

You chew on your lip, unsure of what to say, the man acts like he’s the fucking president when you ask about a vest.

The third and final time it sends you over the edge.

You hear his cell phone ring, and it’s one of those old phones that probably uses the numbers on the pad to text.

It rings and rings, he’s in the kitchen grabbing water, you pick up the phone and bring it to him until you see the name “Laswell” on it and it brings uncertainty.

He’s sighing when you hand over the phone, answering it outside on the balcony.

When he enters the room again, the name, it eats you alive.

“Is Laswell a friend?” You ask, curiosity piercing your head.

“That’s classified, pet. I don’t want you touching my phone.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You should’ve let it ring.”

He turns his back, pulling a shirt on.

“Fuck John, can’t you just answer a simple —“

“I already told you I'm not answering any bloody damn questions.”

He stalks over to you, towering over you, making you feel smaller, wishing you could’ve just kept your mouth shut.

“I’ve asked you already to stop peering into my work life, and you insist on doing it. It’s like dating a goddamn child.”

It stings. In the back of your head you always assumed he saw you as an equal, but now the mention of comic books, Disney movies, and your favorite cartoons brings embarrassment and shame to your stomach.

“I’m sorry” is all you can really say. You don’t want him to talk down to you anymore.

“I think it’s best you just go now.” He says.

And it hurts you, getting tossed out like this, you never expected it from him. But were you really going to expect anything less from someone who kept his job so secret?

You leave your things there, and show yourself out. Hoping it was just a bad day. Hoping you can get them tomorrow. Tomorrow.

A toothbrush, some hair ties, some lotion, pajama pants, and socks. All things Price has stored away at the bottom of his closet.

Regret still floods him for talking to you harshly that night—but pragmatically, he knows that he took this job and his job always comes first.

He keeps the picture he took of you with the camera you brought. He snapped away at you holding a sandwich he made you. Your face is happy and glowing, you’re sitting on his couch.

There are times he misses you, he misses you so much that he dreams about you, but he’s not going to drag another one of his birds into this mess he’s dealing with. He’s going to stay on top, stay hidden away, and keep you safe.

Tomorrow never comes for you.

#captain john price #john price #captain john price x f!reader #call of duty mwii #call of duty mw2 #call of duty

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