#but the shorter the back the faster the dog

[empressdrusilla]

‘Holy shit,’ you thought, ‘That’s a big fucking dog.’

KEE-RUNCH

You'd just gone around a blind curve maybe a little faster than you should've, and now you've immediately learned why you aren't supposed to do that, especially in the middle of the night.

You'd gotten about one second of time to process the canine form in the headlights of your Dodge Dakota, and recognize that it was, in fact, larger than most, before plowing into it and sending it skidding a few feet across the asphalt.

After a few seconds taken to make sure you weren't injured, you unbuckled your seatbelt and hopped out of the truck, crossing your fingers that whatever you'd just hit was somehow okay.

The creature that was laid out on the asphalt before you was, to your estimation, probably a wolf. You weren't an expert, and a couple things about it seemed... off, but mostly it looked like a wolf. It was massive, sure, and it sure looked like it was grinning at you, yeah, but it was grey and white and looked like pictures you'd seen of wolves, so. Probably. You didn't know any wolves lived here. Like. Anywhere near here. It must be lost. Oh boy.

It wasn't moving except for a little bit of breathing. It wasn't even whimpering or twitching or anything, so you probably had knocked it out cold. You check your phone, thinking you should probably call... somebody? A vet maybe? Animal control? You figured you'd look it up, but. No service. Okay. Shit. Well, you thought, I'll just bring it home, and put it in the garage or something, and give it some water, and then figure out what to do from there. Easy. Fine. It turns out, wolves that are larger than you are pretty heavy. Some part of you swears you almost hear it giggling at you as you struggle to lift it up, before resigning yourself to getting back in the truck (Which thankfully was still running seemingly fine enough), driving in front of it, putting a couple boards you had in the back down as a ramp, and sort of... rolling it up. You manage it, eventually, with some muscle, and some leverage from a third board.

There's something distinctly novel about the drive home. The circumstances aren't exactly fun, you're not happy about it, but you have to admit it's at least new to be driving home with a fucking wolf in the back of your truck. So at least a part of you is getting some entertainment from this. The sun is just starting to rise as you turn onto the road that leads to your place, lighting up the sky all pale orange. It was pretty, which only added to the odd ambiance. By the time you've pulled into your driveway, and put the truck in park, you've formulated a decently solid plan. You're gonna keep it in the back of your truck, since you're not gonna do all that again. You're gonna go inside, and get a bowl of water, and put it in with it. You don't expect it to wake up, but just in case. Then, once you've done that, you're gonna call an emergency vet that should be open at dawn, and ask what they can do about a wolf. Then, just do whatever they say. Easy. Simple. Everything was gonna be okay. What was distinctly not included in the plan was, upon exiting your truck and turning towards the back to check on your cargo, for there to be a naked middle-aged woman sitting there instead. She's leaning up against the side wall, with a mischievous grin on her face.

The woman has mostly-greyed hair, that'd maybe once been auburn, that falls around her shoulders. Weathered skin, like someone who spends a lot of time outside, deep brown eyes, and teeth that are just a little sharper-looking than most peoples'. For a second your heart skips a beat out of something other than surprise, seeing the gorgeous little crow's feet at the corners of her eyes as she grins at you. You open your mouth as if to speak, but nothing readily comes to mind. This is not helped when the woman vaults over the side of your truck, revealing to you her full body, landing solidly on her feet. She's very solidly built, a little shorter than you, but you'd wager a thousand times that she could beat you in any contest of strength you could think of. She also has a lot of body hair, all over. Chest, stomach, bush, leg, arm, a little facial, you name it. She was, in short, stunning. And your mind was going blank, because where the fuck did she come from?

"Well?" Says the woman, her voice warm and wonderfully deep, with a light Midwestern, maybe Minnesotan brogue to it. "You gonna invite your guest in? Could use a coat. You brought me home, after all." You are, quite frankly, too shocked to say no. There was no more wolf in the back of your truck. So you walked to your door, pushed in your keys, and opened.

werewolf who you hit with your pickup truck on a back road and you have no idea what the fuck they are but they seem pretty hurt so you get them into the truck bed to bring them home until you can figure out who the fuck you call in this situation

(they’re literally fine, they just think you’re cute and want to come home with you and pretending to be unconscious usually works when this happens)

[theborzoiarebackintown]

She sure is shaped

[lonelystarrs]

𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒀𝒐𝒖

𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟! 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Toji didn’t think he’d ever change for a woman again, turns out he did for a pretty little thing like you, he just wasn’t expecting it in this way —bet you really thought the joke about him being a werewolf was funny now.

Warnings 18+ MDNI seriously. Kinktober + extremely descriptive + monsterfucking + werewolf Toji + knots + breeding + size kinks + dubcon + mirror +

Tbh this was pretty rushed and basic, but let’s be honest only here for the smut when it’s kinktober 😂🫶🏻

It started over a year ago, all over a simple wound that Toji had from what he assumed was a curse at the time.

The claw marks had ran so deep across his back it exposed bone, the blood loss was life threatening but his ignorance took him towards his home, not towards help.

That’s when you came into the picture, pretty little you.

An off duty nurse who’s happened to be walking home to meet a stumbling Toji bleeding out near the building where he lived. Being ever so loyal to her duty as a nurse you helped. He remembered your eyes, your hair, how warm and soft your hands were and he remembered how you smelt. It stood out from the cold air, the smell of fresh rain and it was weirdly comforting, a clean yet sweet smell.

You’d stopped the bleeding, getting him to hospital for treatment and all you were was a memory, some pretty thing leaning over him slumped in a way that wasn’t dignifying what so ever and especially not how he usually met women.

He healed faster than expected, way faster than anything they’d ever seen before. Within two days he was healed with nothing but a large, clawed scar down his back, from his right shoulder to his left side under his ribs.

He took himself home, a bag of take out in hand as he stood in the elevator taking him up to his floor. The other hand shoved into his pocket staring mindlessly at the ceiling panel.

When it dinged and the doors opened he stepped out, colliding with someone much smaller than him and that someone was you.

Falling back into your ass from colliding with sheer force that was Toji Fushiguro, and in true Toji style he didn’t aid your fall he very much let it happen. Looking down at you and tilting his head, green eyes staring at your incredible legs long and toned leading straight up to those pretty black lace panties you had on under the shorter loose leather skirt that had rode up.

The little lace top you had on left little to the imagination, denim jacket a little ruffled from your fall, and nice black strappy heels on with red bottoms —which he didn’t expect.

Your hair framed you, thick and wavy, all done up for your little night out. Tits pushed up and face with light make up.

It was the second time he’d ever seen you and the first time he made contact with you, lazily reaching out a hand but not bending to you —he only done it because you helped him a few days ago.

You took it letting him pull you up with such force it thrusted you into his chest and he smirked, tilting his head giving you another once over because you really were such a pretty little thing.

“Oh! You’re uh- well you’re looking much better, it was only a few days ago and they’ve released you?”

“I left.”

“You’re moving well, what are you a werewolf?”

“A werewolf?”

Toji snorted a laugh at you and you laughed waving your hand around flippantly from your goofy joke. You thought he was one who those shitty dog looking things in classic old horror films?

“I was joking, y’know? It was a big claw mark and you’re out of hospital in days with a wound that went bone deep…”

“Just a real man doll, I ain’t howling at no moon.”

It turns out you lived in the same complex as him having rich parents but still studying as a nurse, once Toji found out the money he started taking an interest because even in his late thirties he wasn’t going to change.

He thought he wasn’t anyway but you made him feel something rare —and that was feeling a lil bad about taking advantage of you. He knew from past experience with his deceased wife that he maybe had a second chance of redemption, because that’s how he started feeling with her.

Your caring nature was a given, you were a nurse, so when Toji suddenly came down with a full blown fever you’d been there again, your hands feeling colder this time on his hot skin, your voice soothing him and that smell of you was lulling him. He’d pulled you in and buried his nose into you, inhaling like an animal as he started to grope every inch of you desperately, it gave him some relief.

Apparently he was changing in more ways than just seeing you as a source of money and sex, because it turned out that in fact, Toji was howling at full moons nearly four weeks later.

It started with restlessness and a mild fever, nothing too out of the ordinary in your line of work, but it wasn’t normal for Toji —he didn’t get sick. But something was crawling under his skin, his cock throbbing under his joggers and no matter how many times he fucked it into his fist he wasn’t cumming. His hand ran through his sweaty hair, pushing it out his face as he looked down at his far above average cock, an angry red and drooling precum with his hand curled around it.

It was throbbing, rock solid, he could feel the pulsing in it and he was burning from over stimulation, the rage in lack of release was only adding to the feral feeling biting across his skin as he felt his patience all but slipping.

Then his nose caught a whiff of something, something that made his cock flex in his hand and drive an instinct he didn’t know he had. Green eyes scanned the room, landing on a top of his you’d been wearing. When he lifted it to his face he moaned, eyes rolling back into his sockets and the pleasurable pulse sent to his cock was euphoric… that sweet smell of you was opening that door he was banging against.

His hips rolled into his fist, cock sliding into it smearing the overload of precum to make a wet hole to fuck into and his pace was feral, heaving in air between inhaling the scent you’d left over it. His mind too clouded to realise what exactly he was doing but chasing only a feeling.

You didn’t last a second when you returned home after your shift in work, he’d jumped on you and fucked you like you were his life line, a feral, blind pleasure that burned under his skin, only feeling it cool when you pressed against him. Burying his face into your neck and breathing you in like oxygen.

And he felt fucking incredible, fucking you felt unworldly.

Day two he’d been running such a high fever that wasn’t going down, reaching a temperature that was almost inhuman. He’d crashed into a sleep and you’d used the opportunity to shower. The towel was ripped from you as soon as your feet entered the bedroom and you were pressed against the wall, legs thrown over his shoulders as he lifted you.

But it wasn’t Toji.

His coat was so black he blended into the darkness of the room, silver teeth bared and green eyes illuminated like the full moon.

With your back pressed to the wall and werewolf! Toji lifting you on his shoulders as your thighs tightened around his head. Your hands gripping and pulling at his black fur as that long tongue worked its magic, so long it was fucking your dripping hole and rubbing against your clit at the same time. It didn’t take long for spit and cum to run down your ass and legs as he was edging you towards cumming on him again and you bucked wildly against him.

It should be wrong —holy shit this should be wrong.

But those glowing green eyes below you were feral, those jaws so large that you literally fit between them as he ate you out. His clawed hands under your thighs to prevent him from piercing you with those almost silver-white teeth.

You couldn’t breath as your body was driven into over stimulation and he wasn’t letting up on his restless attack with his tongue.

He was growling under you, something rumbling in his chest and you could feel it vibrating on his tongue. When you tried to pull away, tried to lift yourself from him his ears flattened, his lips curled and he bared his teeth with a snarl.

The only reason you calmed were his eyes and you knew it was him, even if you wanted to fight you couldn’t but you just needed a break to breathe. He looked silly in the apartment despite how big it was, Toji was a huge man regardless but this added to the huge form that he was.

“T-Toji I ca-fuck- I can’t anymore you gotta s-stop-“

Your body thrashed with each harsh lick of his tongue, drool dripping down his chin into his coat finding the taste of your cum irresistible, the smell of you was addicting. Toji was an asshole so it wasn’t hard to ignore you begging him to stop as you couldn’t handle it anymore, he was selfish and greedy naturally but when it came to eating you out like this?

Fuck-

The tip of his tongue buried in you felt you clenching again in little pulses as you got closer, he slanted your body to one claw keeping under your thigh, the other resting on his shoulder keeping you spread open against the wall. He reached down grabbing his cock, feeling the knot forming at the base —it felt different, besides the size difference.

He fisted himself and his hips started to move in time with it.

“M’gonna cum- fuck, hah, T-Toji s’good -holy shit-“ you were slurring words that meant nothing, weightless as your vision went white and stars appeared and with perfect timing he lifted from your clit and let his entire length of his tongue fill you roughly, he looked up to see your eyes roll back and your head rolled against the wall.

“Fu-Fucking hell,”

He stroked his dick steadily as you came around his tongue, hips stuttering as your body was slack against him and the wall. Withdrawing his tongue and head he pulled back, the taste of you filling his mouth, mouth watering again at the sweetness you gave.

He literally shrugged your thighs off his shoulders, his hands gripping your ass as you slid down the wall catching you with your legs falling over his thick forearms. He angled you so his hard, upright dick pressed against your entrance, your hands gripping his biceps, lacing under the black coat and your eyes widened as you realised he wasn’t letting you catch your breath.

Regretting looking down to see he wasn’t his body that had just change but the size of his already worthy dick had doubled, pre was drooling from the slit and it was flexing angrily.

“W-wait Toji that’s too big you-“

He pressed the tip to you and pushed, panting as his green eyes watched his cock start to stretch you out and it was tight. Toji bullied his way in, his forming knot pressing against your clit, your jaw slacked and no noise left you. The stretch was painful, but with how he was pressing against your spread open clit was just enough to distract you.

Toji growled when he eyed the bulge in your stomach and he flexed inside you watching it move. Clawed hands planted against the wall behind you, either side of your waist with your legs still over his forearms, the position was awkward being wedged between the wall him like this.

“T-Toji p-please g-go easy, it’s too big I’m-“

His hard thrust back into you cut you off as your breath hitched in your throat, nails digging into his chest and your toes curled. 

“You’ll take it how it comes,”

your eyes widened as you looked up at him with worry, finally hearing him speak, his own voice mixed with something else thrown in. Your body contradicting your worry, his words made you pulse around him and he chuckled, green eyes meeting yours.

Shifting an arm to snake around your waist to hold you in place as he pulled back his cock, watching the slick glistening on it and he slammed back into you, starting a pace that was cruel. Your arms wrapped around his long nose and jaws clamping them together, pulling him into your chest hugging him and pressing your forehead to his.

“Holy shi-hah, it’s too big, it’s too- I’m gonna cum, I’mgonnacum!”

You sounded panicked but all he focused on was the wet plap, plap, plap of his inhuman dick spreading you open cause it was fucking beautiful to watch. Slick and cum coating his knot as it formed a sticky link everytime it touched your clit.

And he lost it.

You only made whimpering and strangled noises as he fucked you hard, every other thrust trying to push his knot in to plug you, failing drew a pissed off snarl from him that made him pull away along with his cock.

He threw you across the room to your bed and you tried to crawl away, his grip on your ankle slid you back down the bed and in his desperation he pinned you to it, rutting clumsily against the back of your thighs and ass trying to find your pussy.

“Stay, brat-“

He snarled into your ear and you groaned into the bed as he snarled in your ear and arched your hips back, a dull ache in your cunt from being stretched so much but pulsing to have it again.

Unhappy with the position he shifted, green eyes catching himself in the huge floor length arch mirror, he gripped the backs of your thighs and pulled you up. Your back to him you reached back to grab him to balance yourself. His cock slapping against your exposed pussy as he walked to the large mirror, spreading you out. He nuzzled his nose into your neck.

“Put it in before I force it-“

You reached down pressing your fingers to the underside of his head, pressing it against yourself as he lifted you until he felt your swollen hole, impaling you on his cock, watching the bulge appear in your stomach again and he let you watch, let you see what he was seeing.

Green eyes flickering from your face to his knot bouncing against you, begging to plug you, he could feel it resisting less in this position and when he’d just had enough he paused and forced you down to take it.

Your pained whimper only spurred him on, his thrusts switching to short but hard, your body bouncing off each thrust as you went crossed eyed, drooling with only noises leaving you as he made you watch him fucking you dumb.

He gave no warning when he came, only some whine that left his throat. His hips jolting up into you as his knot swelled locking him in you.

“S’too much- m’full, no more -Toji I can’t-“

“Cum it out then,”

You were shaking against him, your whole body struggling to keep up with him like this, but it was so hot watching him plug you, fill you up and seeing that bulge in your stomach.

So you reached down, one finger rolling over your buzzing clit and your hips jolted in reaction to how sensitive it was, your nerves burning with each circle and swipe on your clit, watching your hole clenching and pulsing around him.

You came with tears streaming down your cheeks, pushing so hard his softening cock pulled from you followed by the ridiculous amount of cum he’d fucked into you.

He nuzzled into you, gracing his teeth over your neck as you came back from seeing stars, tranced by the sight of the mess he’d made of you, holding you up like you were nothing as his green eyes glowed.

“We ain’t done, doll.”

©pharix/lonelystarrs 2023 permission is not given to repost, translate or post anywhere else.

Dividers all on my side blog for credits as per 🫶🏻

[minsh0e]

mini astrology observations 2/?

hi hi ! i am back with another mini astrology observations. I want to thank you all for such an amazing reaction to my “work”, and for all your positive/negative comments that you left for me. these opinions make me realize a lot and will definitely make me grow further in the future… before you move on to the reading, i want to say, that I am not a professional, so take everything lightly. as always, have fun reading <3

p.s. - photos are mine :)

...

☆ people with empty 1st house may lack life guidance or be less aggressive while voicing their opinions. on the contrary though, they might judge people based on their personality and manners, not appearance or first impressions.

☆ libra risings literally don’t have to wear makeup as they look/feel better without it

☆ in my first/last observations, i talked about the mars and/trine venus synastry and how it can be the first thing that pulls you in. in this case, mars represents the man and venus represents the woman. last time, i talked about how i got attracted to the men, who have mars in the same element as my venus but i haven´t mentioned, that all of them had virgo mars...

i have a theory of mine (that i observed on me and others) in which venus mostly gets attracted to the mars sign of same element that is positioned clockwise (e.g. scorpio -> cancer) and mars mostly gets attracted to the venus that is positioned anti-clockwise (cancer -> scorpio)…i have, however, observed this on people who are attracted to the opposite gender not the same gender, therefore, i can’t really tell you nothing about how this works for homosexuals.

-> please let me know what you think about this/what are your experiences if you have time :)

☆ this is a very random observation that you can skip if you want to…our dog it considered to be beautiful by most of the people we met/meet. he has shiny, colorful fur, symmetrical face and body color placements. i decided to check out his natal chart for fun and found out, that he has libra venus in 5th house…interpret this as you want, but i guess, that you can really apply astrology to anything :)

☆ people with sagittarius mars are the ones, who love the sports/movement the most. they are amazing at doing anything physical, so you can literally see them being great at any sport��even if they do it for the first time. they may be interested in a lot different kinds too.

☆ those with lilith in 8th house get sexualized/objectified a lot. if you have lilith (or any other lilith) in this house, you were most likely introduced to the “sexual” more early in your life and matured more faster then your other peers. also, you might be randomly called/shouted at by other disrespectful people on the streets…i was really surprised to find out, that this is not really talked about that much, so here i am…

☆ another observation i talked about in past were pisces/12th house placements. i talked about how sleepy and tired they can get without any specific reason but let me tell you…all the water signs/house placements get like this and it's mostly because of said no reason or when they get tired just by thinking about working on something/having to describe something to the other person. they treasure their energy and how they spend it.

☆ degrees are a very important part of reading an astrology…if you have time, please learn/read about them

…

the end.

these observations were slightly shorter, so i am sorry about that :(

again, feel free to leave your feedback :)

[atsulovee]

✧ ─ · · KINKTOBER DAY ONE !! · · ─ ✧

I'm a screamer, baby!

Wooden horse - Dazai x Fem!Reader x Chuuya ➻❥ content warnings: Soukoku is torturing the reader, but it's nothing particularly graphic or painful. Non-con to dub-con. no penetration (sorry folks). uhh Dazai is a MASSIVE jerk so slut shaming and degradation. oral (m! receiving), ruined (f!) orgasm ➻❥ word count: 3.4k ➻❥ notes: HOOOO BOY kinktober day one!! let's hope i can keep this going!

"Your body moves instinctively, trying to get away from the man who coiled himself around you only to make yourself bite back a whimper as pain shoots through the bundle of nerves between your legs. “God- Fuck.” You hiss, sight blurred with unshed tears. The wood rubbed so painfully against your cunt, but you just knew that Dazai was right, for better or for worse. You were getting wet."

“You know, I really didn’t want to torture someone so cute. Ah, but life is unfair, isn’t it?” His boyish laugh cut through the air, interweaving with the thick tension of the basement. He stood over you, blocking what little light there was from hitting your eyes. The man in front of you didn't look very old, maybe around eighteen, but his eyes sunk deep like that of a soldier who watched hundreds of men die. “Oh well. You know what to do, Chuuya.”

You couldn’t move. You had woken up deep in the bowels of some building unfamiliar to you. It’s warm, wherever you are. Uncomfortably so. The air is thick and hard to breathe, as if you were trapped in a room with a thousand other people. Your head ached and a deep, lethargic pain drummed through your limbs. Even through pulsing and blurring vision, you saw a soft orange light off in the distance. Then, the stench of old blood followed. The smell is wretched and it’s deep, as if corpses have been permeating in this room for centuries.

It's only then, at the call of his name, that your attention gets drawn to the third person in the room. Notably shorter than the one closest to you, he leans against the wall with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. Chuuya looks up as if only beginning to pay attention when spoken to.

“Chuuya!” Dazai- as he had introduced himself a few moments ago- chides with a laugh. A sharp and shrill noise more similar to the bark of a hyena or the sob of a child. “Don’t tell me you weren’t listening? Dogs are supposed to be loyal, you know!”

“Shut it, bastard!” Chuuya snaps as he yanks the lit cigarette from his lips, the smoke billowing out from the corners as it loops through the air. “For all your stupid talk about me being the dog, you sure do a lot of yapping yourself, Dazai!”

Chuuya pushes himself up from the wall, cigarette being dropped to the floor and snubbed out beneath his boot. Soon, Dazai isn't alone in towering over your bound form. In the momentary reprieve of their spat, your eyes fall downward to your binds. Only in your panties, the rope is free to gnaw into your exposed flesh as it holds your hands behind your back and your shins to the back of your thighs.

“Now, now…” Dazai coos, wagging his finger at Chuuya. “We have an interrogation to conduct, dear Chuuya! We can't leave a guest waiting, after all.” Faster than you can blink, their attention is back onto you. Nails dig into the fat of your cheeks as Dazai forces your head up so your eyes meet his. “You haven’t been very cooperative so far, so we’ll have to take more drastic means, okay?” His voice drawls, curling at the end into something sickeningly sweet. “Chuuya.”

This time, Chuuya moves without hesitation. Strong arms hoist you up, throwing you over his shoulder. It takes one nod from Dazai to send Chuuya walking in the correct direction. No longer blinded by the light seeping in from above, your eyes take a moment to adjust to the lingering darkness of the rest of the room. Blackness hid in the corners like ink spilled on parchment, thick and oppressive. Momentarily, all you could see were the vague shapes of whatever was in the room. As Chuuya stepped forward, you were able to see everything clearly. Nearby was a cart. Simple, sleek, and unassuming. But then you saw the glint of metal. On that cart were a large variety of knives and blades. From a small scalpel to a cleaver. Pliers, nail guns, and even drills. 

“No-!” You stumble over your words, voice gravelly and foreign to your ears as mindless pleads spill from your lips. Your head throbbed and ached like you had been beat over the head. The panic that had yet to come to you before started to ebb into your body. Slowly, it drew itself away like the ocean just prior to a tsunami before coming back tenfold, clawing and tearing its way through your body. “Don’t-!”

A quickened heart rate made the throbbing in your head worsen, pounding like the thrums of an earthquake. Limbs that trembled in the ropes that tried to hold them still. A cold sweat that made your pathetic form shine beneath the hazy light above as Chuuya effortlessly took you with him. Still, even through your adrenaline, your body remained too weak to do so much as squirm in his arms.

“Easy now.” Dazai’s once harsh expression fades into something similarly sinister, though it tries to mask itself. His toothy grin is just a little too sharp and just a little too wide. “Don’t make this any harder for yourself.” 

When Chuuya stopped walking, you couldn’t see what he had led you to at first. You weren’t sure you really wanted to. Though, as it always seemed to, your morbid curiosity won as you slowly lifted your head to look around Chuuya’s side. Dazai stood next to the device like a giddy child excited to present their arts and crafts project, as macabre as that image may be. Whatever it was, it didn’t look like it’d be a pleasant experience. A wooden contraption, meeting in the middle to form a point, through the tip had been rounded ever so slightly. 

“This beauty here is-!” Dazai starts, and though you can’t see Chuuya’s face, you are able to feel the irritation in his tense body. “A wooden horse! Made by the Spanish, likely to punish those who didn’t follow Christianity. They’d force the victim to sit on this bad boy, tie weights to their feet and have them just endure the pain of their genitals being crushed against the wood!” Dazai smiles, much similar to that of a gameshow host. At your increasingly petrified look, Dazai laughs once more. “Luckily for you, this one doesn’t have spikes! Chuuya, if you’d do the honor.”

Now that Dazai is done with his happy-go-lucky farce, Chuuya hauls you over his shoulder once more and settles you over the top of the wooden horse. Though not necessarily agonizing, the rub of the hardwood against your pelvis was deeply uncomfortable, especially as it had the entire weight of your body working against you with nothing but the thin material of your panties to protect your cunt. 

You shift awkwardly, wincing as your weight shifts away from your clit, instead letting the dulled tip rub awkwardly between your lips. “I-I don’t…” Sweat beads at your forehead. With your legs bound and your arms tied behind your back, every one of your limbs was useless to you. Each breath, each shudder kept shifting your weight, moving the pressure from your clit to your labia. 

It’s that slow type of pain, one that starts as a discomfort until it makes your heart race and you have to take in sharp gasps of air. Seconds pass, each one letting the discomfort bloom into something sharp and stabbing.

“Now, now…” Dazai slinks up to your side, his grin never falling from his face as his hands settle on your waist. “I’m sure a girl like you should be used to something hard rubbing up against you…” He snickers, degrading words falling from his lips like poison. “I mean, I’m just surprised you can still feel anything down there, with how many men I’m sure you’ve let bend you over…”

When Chuuya smacks him over the head, Dazai just whines, the hit not deterring him in the slightest as bandaged hands snake up your torso, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His hands are cold, letting your uncomfortably warm body jump at the sharp contrast as they cup your tits. “What? Come on, Chuuya…! She’s getting wet and she’s making cute noises! She likes it, don’t you, girl?”

A pitiful whine escapes your lips as his nimble fingers tug at your sensitive nipples. Your back arches, desperate to get away from him, but unable to escape his grasp. Dazai’s hot breath brushes against your ear as his eye trails from your chest to your face. Cold air brushed against your exposed skin, only to get wafted away with his warm breath. “That’s right… Good girl… Does it hurt? Good.” Dazai coos into your ear as frustrated tears well up in your eyes. 

Your body moves instinctively, trying to get away from the man who coiled himself around you only to make yourself bite back a whimper as pain shoots through the bundle of nerves between your legs. “God- Fuck.” You hiss, sight blurred with unshed tears. The wood rubbed so painfully against your cunt, but you just knew that Dazai was right, for better or for worse. You were getting wet.

“A masochist, huh?” Dazai purrs, sounding far too excited at the revelation. “Good… That makes things easier for us, then.” 

Chuuya stood off to the side, his eyes affixed to the ground as the scene played out before him. He wasn’t uncomfortable with torture, hasn’t been for some time at the very least. Chuuya had watched over Dazai’s interrogations dozens of times before- watched nails get ripped off, sinews torn, teeth pulled out. But, something about this specific situation felt…weird to him. Dazai’s a creep, Chuuya reasons in his head. He can’t really be surprised that Dazai’s taking the opportunity to assault a pretty girl. 

Still, Chuuya chose to watch until his eye caught Dazai’s once more. Often, the two of them didn’t need words to communicate, so Chuuya knew what Dazai wanted immediately.

When Chuuya’s hands rested on your waist, Dazai’s lecherous grin widened. He rested his chin on your shoulder as he tugged at your puffy nipples, watching Chuuya’s cheeks flush as he grinds your hips against the wooden horse harder.

This time, you couldn’t suppress your wail. It felt like your nerves were being electrocuted, a strong buzzing, burning feeling bullied its way up your spine, singeing every atom in its wake. 

“There we go, Chuuya. Usually, you’re more excited to take part in our interrogations.” Dazai sighs, making his partner grit his teeth.

“Shut it, fuckface. This isn’t shit.” Your clit feels like it’s getting rubbed raw, your pelvis hitting the wood painfully.

“Oh yeah? Chuuya isn’t getting all hot and bothered, watching a cute girl writhe and moan in pain?” His nails dig into your nipples, the overstimulating feelings making tears well up in your eyes. “ ‘Cause you know what I think? I think Chuuya is getting off on this just as much as this cutie is.”

Chuuya snarls like a rabid dog, though he doesn’t respond to the provocation further than sinking his nails into the fat of your hips- surely leaving crescent-shaped bruises for the next day. “Just- fuck.” The redhead hisses, meeting your eyes for the first time that night. “Just tell the fucker everything you know and this’ll all be over, okay?”

Your head swam, earlier with the drumming pain of being knocked unconscious and now with sharp agony as you gasp, desperate for any reprieve. “I-I don’t-!” Your breath comes to you in sharp strikes, lungs heaving as you try to inhale. Everything feels muddied as you try desperately to sort through your words. “I don’t know anything, really-!”

Dazai sighs, rough bandages scratching along your exposed flesh. “You want to extend this, huh?” He sighs. “Poor thing can’t think straight, even when she isn’t getting fucked. It’s a little pathetic, really. This is nothing, and you’re already blubbering like a child?” Your breath catches in your throat and your whole body is shaking pitifully, and his wide smirk borders on uncanny as his nails dig into your soft chest, threatening to draw blood. “Or maybe you’re crying because you like it? Is that it? Have you been fucked so much that even being tortured feels good to you?”

“No! God, fuck!” You hiss, whines and cries spilling from your lips uselessly as Chuuya continues working your hips against the wood. The worst, most humiliating part is that you can feel your core throb with each push and pull of your hips. Dazai is right, you hiccup. You’re being tortured by the Port Mafia for information you just don’t know and you like it.

Your pitiful noises are shut up by Dazai as he slides two of his fingers into your mouth, pressing down on the back of your tongue, making you gag around them. “There we go. Nice and quiet. Now, listen to me. Whether you know it or not, you’re privy to some sensitive information.” Still hovering over your shoulder, he nudges your cheek with his as he whispers into your ear. “You stumbled across one of our enemies' dealings last night and we just need to know exactly what you saw. It’s really not that hard, darling. Either you tell us what we want to know, or we hand you over to that ratty little street gang and who knows what they’d do to a pretty thing like you.”

Your tears threaten to fall as he takes his fingers out of your mouth, the spit connecting them to their lips with a thin string as the movement makes you gag. “Damn it!” You sob, the saliva slipping past your lips. “I don’t know! I didn’t see anything!” 

This time, Chuuya is the one to sigh- Dazai’s playful frustrations seemingly seeping over to the other man as well. Since the moment Dazai had ordered him, Chuuya’s hands had not stopped grinding your cunt against the wooden structure, making sure he aimed for the most sensitive area. “We don’t have all day, girl.” Chuuya hisses as you sputter.

“Now even Chuuya is getting fed up with you… He’s right, though. We could leave you here while we both go do more important things.” Dazai hums, keeping a watchful eye on Chuuya. “Leave your poor little clit swollen and needy, so desperate for relief for hours. All you have to do is remember just a few tiny details for us. It’s really not that hard, pretty girl.”

And then, the thought of being left alone with this stabbing pain that eats through your pelvis and vulva, is finally what makes the dam break. You wail, wrenching your head to the side as tears fall down your cheeks. Heart wrenching sobs echo through the Port Mafia’s basement not for the first time and certainly very far from the last. No matter how hard you try to formulate sentences, pleas and ‘I don’t know’s spill from you like a broken record.  Because you really don’t know. You didn’t go walking around at night, you didn’t walk across some shady drug dealing or arms exchange! From the moment you woke up here, you’ve had no clue what either of these men are talking about!

As you can’t see his face, Dazai doesn’t even bother faking his facial expression as he does with his tone of voice. He looks overjoyed with the tears that run down your cheeks, smudging whatever makeup you may have been wearing the night prior. His dark eyes gleam with something sadistic- something so downright vile that even Chuuya pauses his movements for a second. 

“Fine. Chuuya, you know what to do.” He lets go of you, slinking around Chuuya’s side and grabbing onto his shoulders to whisper in the redhead’s ear. “If she doesn’t remember, we’ll have to make her remember. I know you like watching her squirm just as much as I do.” He smirks, his eyes falling to the tent in Chuuya’s pants. “Maybe she’ll decide to talk after you make her take care of the little problem she caused.” Dazai snickers to himself, making Chuuya fluster and growl at him. 

“Fucking bastard…” Chuuya mumbles to himself, finally letting go of your hips and allowing the momentary reprieve before his nails dig into your scalp instead. Using his hand, he forces you to bend at an awkward angle with your body still being supported by the wooden horse but your head being nearly eye level with his crotch. The aching of your spine is enough to muffle the noise of his belt coming undone until it’s far too late. 

His dick is pretty, maybe about five and a half inches, but God, is it thick. The tip is red and already weeping precum, letting it pearl and drip down the bottom. You’re given only a few seconds to gawk before Chuuya hooks his gloved thumb into your mouth and pulls your jaw open.

His length is just enough to prod at the back of your tongue each time he pulls your head toward him. Chapped lips wrap around the tip easily, though they begin to strain ever so slightly as you hit the thickest part of the spit slicked cock. Chuuya doesn't care much as his fingers dig into your hair, pushing his hips flush against your face and into your hot throat. Your hands, bound behind your back, strain and clench instinctively but are unable to break from the rope. Chuuya’s strong hands bring your head back and forth, mercilessly letting you sputter and choke on his cock. All the while, he stares down at your tear streaked cheeks, muttering and cursing Dazai beneath his breath.

“Hah…” Dazai puffs out, his own cheeks heating up at the sight. “What a brute Chuuya is, treating a lady like that…” His teasing words only serve to aggravate Chuuya further, making him fuck your throat even rougher. That, of course, is exactly what Dazai wanted to see. Slowly, his hand comes to wrap around your throat, squeezing just so he could feel the way Chuuya’s length forced you to choke. 

“Shit-” Chuuya takes in a sharp breath through his teeth. “Don’t you dare let go, jackass. That feels perfect.” He groans as he feels his balls tighten up, releasing a gushing load of cum into your throat. As you choke, you can only let out a muffled groan as you go dizzy at the pressure and deprivation of air. You swallow Chuuya’s thick cum, desperately trying to not heave as the white ropes fight their way down your esophagus. “Good… Good fuckin’ girl. You’re perfect, take it. Just like that…”

As he pulls away, leaving you to cough up everything Chuuya spilled down your throat, you’re pitifully aware of the longing ache between your legs left untouched and unsatisfied. It felt like all the veins in your head were pounding with such force that they were about to burst. All the air in your lungs seemed to evade you, leaving you breathless despite the oxygen that surrounds you. 

Your back aches and your clit has been rubbed raw against your underwear. Though, even that torment doesn’t seem enough for Dazai because the moment Chuuya lets go of your hair, Dazai swoops in like a vulture. He pulls your head back just enough that you’re able to meet his eyes once more.

“There we go… Wasn’t so bad, was it, darling? Even if you didn’t get to finish. Though, I’m sure-” He dabs the sweat off of your forehead. “You’d like for this to all be over. So I’ll say this one final time. What. Do. You. Know?” His voice drops, the echo of the dingy basement adding a certain inhuman quality to it, making his voice sound like it was ringing out of hell itself. 

“I don’t—” you hiccup. “I du-dunno what to tell you—I dunno what you want—” Your tired, bleary eyes blink at him, any indignant spirit you may have had long since disappeared.  “I really don’t know what you’re talking about!” Your voice cracks, thick with unshed tears. 

“Hmm. Maybe we really do have the wrong person after all.” Dazai considers it after a moment, voice painfully playful and nonchalant. Dazai drops your head as he turns to look at Chuuya, whose face is still flushed as he tucks his soft dick back into his pants. “I mean, if that’s the case… Then this whole interrogation has been a total bust, huh?”

Chuuya sighs when Dazai gives him another look. Briefly, Chuuya looks at you oddly, eyes brimming with a type of compassion that seemed impossible for someone who had just helped assault you. Even then, as he avoids your eyes, he picks you up and drops you back to the floor.

You grunt, relieved of the pain between your legs, even though the back of your head smacks against the concrete as a result. “Thank you, sweetheart.” Dazai starts, hovering over you like he had done just thirty minutes ago. “This has been fun, really. But we don't need anymore from you if you really don’t have anything to tell us.”

Two clicks of metal, a bang, and everything goes dark.

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[miguel-ohara-eater]

Practice

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(summary: Miguel was helping you practice capturing anomolies, but he was in his rut and could smell that you were ovulating.)

CW: no actual sex this time, dry humping, grinding, biting, play fighting, licking, cumming in clothes, a little bit of public stuff ig, sniffing.

——————————

Miguel swung his fist right in front of your face, his knuckle brushing across your nose as you ducked last second.

you and Miguel were practicing, and he was training you for the anomalies.

"hey! were training not trying to kill eachother!" you say, tackling him and putting him in a headlock.

"you think the anomalies are gonna give you slack??" he asks, throwing you over his shoulder and pinning you down.

you grumbled, lifting up your knee and trying to push him off.

the second you lifted your leg his pupils dilated, the scent of the slick in between your legs hit his nose.

you would be lying if you said him on top of you wasn't hot, but you were ovulating anyways and he was in heat.

his breath got weird, and he immediately got off of you and you sat up.

"Miguel?...you good?" you ask, looking at him and he shakes his head.

"You're ovulating aren't you." he says, staring into your soul.

your eyes widen and you sit on your knees. "I um-... yeah? why does that even matter?"

you were confused, and a little surprised how he'd guessed that.

he looked around at the two other recruits minding their business on the other side of the training room. he leaned over, grabbing your wrist and he stood up.

"let's go." he demanded, and you decided just to follow him.

he led you into Sector 4, down the hall of his lab and he pressed a couple buttons on his watch.

"LYLA! make sure nobody gets in here." he barked into his watch, dragging you onto his platform.

"yes Miguel." Lyla said, blocking the elevators and doors from others access.

he pushed you down onto the floor, getting on top of you in between your legs and he pinned you down

"I could SMELL you." he hissed, his eyes red.

you just looked up at him, more aroused than ever to be completely honest. he leaned his head down, burying his nose into the crook of your neck and he sniffed you.

after a couple seconds he pressed his obvious boner into your clothed pussy, looking at your flushed face.

"you like this don't you?" he teased, and you couldn't lie because you knew he'd be able to smell it on you.

you looked away, opening your mouth to say something but you just nodded.

"fine. maybe I do. but you can't blame me!" you say, side eyeing him.

"can I?" he asked, not really asking to he honest because either way he was going to.

you thought for a second, then nodded. "please?"

he slowly moved his hips, his growing boner underneath his suit rubbing against your pussy underneath yours.

he grunted, biting your neck and his hands grabbed at your breasts, rubbing over the fabric covering your nipples.

you held in your moans, feeling like it'd be pathetic to moan when all he was doing was dry-humping you.

he kept going, his crotch rubbing against yours and his pants and grunts filling your ears.

"k-keep going." you say, trying to keep your voice steady and he starts humping you faster, like a horny dog in heat.

his face was flushed, his cock twitching in his pants and his eyebrows scrunched together.

"is it bad I'm close?" you whimper, leaning your head back and closing your eyes.

he shakes his head, not even saying anything and focusing on your pussy.

your hole was clenching around nothing, desperate for penetration.

you slowly feel the knot build, and before you know it you both are cumming inside your spidersuits.

Miguel whimpers, biting down on your shoulder and your back arches off of the ground.

once the orgasm passes, your suit is drenched and so is his.

you look up at him as he gets one last sniff, before sitting up.

"next time can you just fuck me?" you ask boldly

he raises an eyebrow, thinks for a second, then shrugs.

"sure. tomorrow?"

"tomorrow."

——————————

this one's shorter idk

but idea from @miguel-ohara-lover I think.

I got kinda lazy on this one.

——————————

[wileys-russo]

puppy love II l.wienroither x reader

its criminal there isn't more fics for her so let me try to mend the gap. also i know that this timeline of laura and leah's ACL and recovery isn't accurate but we're gonna go with it for the sake of the plot!

puppy love II l.wienroither x reader

pulling up outside beth and vivs home you couldn't get out of the car fast enough, unbuckling yourself and quickly shooting out of your seat, locking your car up after you over your shoulder.

"um hello?" you paused at the front door and your eyes widened, looking back to see your older sister glaring at you through the open passenger window.

"sorry!" you breathed out with a wince, racing back and unlocking the car, grabbing her crutches from the back and helping her out of the car and to her feet.

"i told mum you'd be a shit carer." leah grumbled as she hobbled behind you toward the front door. "hey!" you scowled at her over your shoulder before knocking repeatedly on the front door. "you could always go back to mums leah, the options there." you threatened as the blonde held her hands up in apology but rolled her eyes the moment you turned around.

"you know it's not going to open any faster the more you knock on it woman!" beth pulled the door open with a teasing grin, opening her arms for a hug as you only darted inside and right past her. "get used to it she's useless." leah sighed, accepting beths hug as the shorter blonde chuckled.

"she's in love, what do you expect eh?" "she almost dropped me down the stairs this morning because her phone went off with a text from you know who!" leah recounted with a deeply annoyed frown as beth laughed and helped the taller girl inside.

"hey there is a speed limit in this house you know lieve." your taller team mate teased affectionately as you raced down the hallway, stopping in your tracks to smile at viv apologetically and give her a hug.

"oi why's she get a hug and i don't! you're not supposed to have favorites." beth protested as she and leah appeared, you rolling your eyes playfully and hugging the needy blonde who patted your back. "see? now was that so hard."

"none of you are my favorite. i'm actually trying to get to her now if you don't mind?" you stated bluntly, ignoring their teasing's as you headed down the hall toward your girlfriends temporary bedroom. laura having moved in while she recovered from her acl injury, her family all in austria she'd been somewhat adopted by the two older women she was now living with.

"you two behave and remember she is injured yes?" viv warned semi seriously at your retreating figure. "yeah no funny business, i mean it!" you heard leah yell sternly after you as you paused to flip her off, grateful she was injured as she blonde shot you a murderous glare, knowing if she had two good legs she'd be swiftly after you.

much as you loved one another fiercely you also fought like cat and dog growing up, your older sister relentlessly torturing you at times but if reminded of that she'd simply claim she was 'helping you toughen up'.

and thats not to say she wouldn't and didn't rain down hell on anyone else who dared mistreat you growing up.

now older the two of you got along much better and had played for the same club for years, but you still got on one anothers nerves every now and then as sisters do, especially now you were assigned as her primary carer while she recovered from her own acl.

distance really does make the heart grow fonder so when leah had needed to move in with you to assist with her rehab, the lack of personal space for either of you had meant the silly arguments increased.

then when your girlfriend had gone and done her acl and needed to move in with beth and viv, the lack of quality time the two of you now faced had worsened your mood.

the two of you were a relatively new pairing after crushing shamelessly on one another for months, sharing shy smiles and bashful glances, both assuming the other would never feel the same way.

eventually laura grew tired of wondering and made her move asking you out, much to the relief of your entire team who were fed up with the mutual pining. and now happily dating you were both still very much so in the honeymoon phase, positively obsessed with one another like giggly lovesick teenagers.

escaping the other three women you knocked on your girlfriends door, hearing her call to come in as you stepped inside, the blonde on the bed perking up as you quietly closed the door, ignoring viv and beth who yelled to keep it open.

"hi liebling." laura grinned, pulling herself to sit up as you dumped your bag on the end of her bed. "hello lover." you grinned back, the girl making grabby hands at you as you carefully settled yourself on the bed beside her, the two of you hugging tightly.

"i missed you." you mumbled into her shoulder as the blonde repeated the words back to you and you sat there in one anothers embrace for a moment before disconnecting.

"oh i have presents for you." you suddenly remembered, clapping happily as you shuffled down the bed and grabbed your bag. "but it is not my birthday?" the blonde frowned in confusion, thick accent you had fallen hard for prominent in her words.

"this, and these, and this, and this, and these and this." you unloaded snack after snack onto the duvet, your girlfriends face softening as she practically melted into a puddle seeing all of her childhood favorites spread out on the bed.

"where did you get them?" she breathed out, touching at the austrian treats and picking them up gently as if they could crumble at her touch. "an international sweets store online, they arrived yesterday." you explained, heart swooning at how much the blondes face lit up at each item she touched.

"oh lau." you cooed, leaning in to wipe a stray tear from the girls face as she again pulled you into a tight hug, burying her face into your shoulder as you gently rubbed her back.

"i love you." the blonde mumbled into your top, the three words making your heart skip a beat, the same way they did the first time you'd exchanged them just a couple of weeks ago. "i love you too." you beamed as she pulled away.

"i love you more." the blonde challenged as you settled into the bed beside her, careful not to knock her bandaged leg which was propped up on a pillow. "i love you most." you countered, grabbing her hands and messing around with her fingers as your head slumped to her shoulder.

"i lov-" "god please stop this is disgusting."

"leah! get out." your head swiveled to your older sister with a scowl as the girl leaned against the door frame with her arms crossed. "hi leah!" laura greeted happily, the older blonde unable to refrain from sharing her smile at the younger girls infectious enthusiasm.

"well you've said your hellos. now get out!" you ordered again, pointing behind her as your scowl deepened and lauras warm hand rested on your hip, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"viv said door open, have some manners i'm just the unfortunate messenger." your sister rolled her eyes before knocking on the now open door to prove her point and stepping out. "and you should be using your crutches!" you yelled out sternly after her, her middle finger popping back inside the door frame before she left again.

"hey-" your girlfriend squeezed your hip again to gain your attention, mumbling something in german as her thumbs smoothed out the deep frown embedded in your eyebrows. "hey i'm a beginner i don't know what that means." you pouted, the blonde having been slowly tutoring you to learn the language, however it was indeed a slow process.

"i said stop frowning or you will get wrinkles." she teased making you scoff and gently smack her chest. "excuse me? rude." you shook your head before glancing down to her leg.

"please do not ask, i am sick of everyone asking how it is feeling." the blonde spoke with a rare show of vulnerability before you could, her normally smiley exterior cracking for a second as her eyes glazed over.

you nodded wordlessly in understanding before leaning over to peck sweetly at her lips several times making her laugh. "proper one now meine liebe." she grinned, dipping her head slightly and pressing her mouth to yours eagerly.

"lau." you warned pulling away as she attempted to tug you to straddle her lap. "what? these are not my knee. these are strong!" she smacked at her thighs with a cheeky smile making you roll your eyes playfully at her insistence.

"no." you shook your head firmly, trying to resume the previous kiss as she craned her head back. "yes." she argued still with a smile, your top balled in her fists not allowing you to pull any further away. "no." you repeated with another shake of your head, flicking playfully at her ear.

"why not!" the defender pouted, just wanting your body as close to her own as she could get, the time the two of you were able to spend with just one another less and less since you had both adopted your new roommates and responsibilities.

"you know why." you stated a little more firmly this time, hands moving to rest on her cheeks with a soft smile. "i told you, these are strong! they do not call me tiny tank for no reason yes?" the girl beamed, her hands on your hips still trying to move you as you rolled your eyes and carefully swung one leg over her lap, hovering above her resting on your knees.

"hello!" she greeted happily as you sighed dramatically but leant in to reconnect your lips, your girlfriends hands roaming your body as yours rested on her shoulder.

"dinner!"

you squealed as you fell sideways on the bed, laura quickly shoving you off of her as footsteps sounded down the hall and viv poked her head in. "dinner is ready." the dutch woman announced, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at the two of you as you both sent her an innocent smile.

"mmm." she hummed and motioned for the two of you to get up before she left the room. "babe you almost pushed me off the bed!" you glared at the blonde beside you who smiled charmingly, mumbling an apology as she pressed kiss after kiss to your lips.

"stop the kissing and come and eat before it gets cold!" viv yelled out sternly again from down the hall as the two of you pulled away and paused before breaking out into laughter.

"come on." you rolled off the bed and stood, motioning for your girlfriend to get on your back as she swung her body to face yours. "i worry one day i will snap these chicken legs of yours." your girlfriend tutted but carefully climbed up onto your back.

"hey they're genetic!" you defended, both your siblings also sporting the classic williamson noodle legs. "just you wait, some more time and i will be back to carrying you around again with my strong legs liebling." the austrian patted your head mockingly.

"would you like me to drop you?" "that is my worry yes." "oh shut up!"

~

"and where are you two off to? you don't want to watch a movie?" beth questioned as laura draped her arm over your shoulder and you both began to head back to her room.

"we do want to watch a movie, just not with you." laura answered with a teasing smile and beth gasped, clutching a hand to her chest in mock offence. "did you hear that? i think my heart just broke!" she sobbed, burying her face in vivs shoulder who rolled her eyes at the theatrics and shoved her away.

"vivianne!" "what? you are annoying sometimes, i don't blame them."

"come get me whenever you're ready to leave." you spoke up angling the comment to your sister who raised her drink in understanding, mouth full of popcorn. "door open please!" viv called out as the two of you slowly made your way back down the hallway.

"we're adults!" you and laura yelled back in sync before bursting out into laughter and sharing a kiss, a small smile forming on the dutch womans face at the sight before the pair of you disappeared into laura's room, half closing the door.

after a prolonged argument over which movie to put on you'd settled on something neither one of you particularly wanted to watch, both with the same activity in mind you'd rather be doing instead.

which is how it came to be you peeked your head down the hallway, seeing the other three engrossed in their own movie, and ever so gently closed laura's door.

with a grin you bounded back to the bed, laying down beside your blonde lover and leaning in to press your lips against hers, her arms flushing your bodies closer together as you pulled her hair out of its messy bun and tangled your fingers in the silver strands.

you withheld a moan as her mouth moved toward your neck, the defender nudging your chin up with her pointer finger to give her more space to access.

"we said door open! laura you need to put your leg up!" the two of you jumped apart as the door flew open and viv flew in, crossing her arms and motioning for the two of you to separate. laura muttering in annoyance under her breath in german, sitting up slightly with a huff as you gently moved her leg to prop up on the pillow at the end of the bed.

"behave, i do not care if you are in love you need to be careful!"

and with that she was gone again, laura collapsing into you with a pained sigh, her silver blonde hair tickling at your nose as you pressed an affectionate kiss to her warm forehead.

with either viv or beth popping their head in every ten or so minutes to 'check up on the two of you' it burst the bubble of warm kisses and sweet giggles you tried to let consume you, and so you'd settled for trying the selection of austrian treats you'd bought for the blonde, laura giving a running commentary on each one.

"hey!" you gasped as she held out a piece of chocolate for you but right as you reached out to take it she popped it into her own mouth with a smirk. "want to taste it?" she teased, puckering her lips as you couldn't help but grin and lean in.

"jesus please do not taste it."

"leah!" you scowled at your sister who was once again leaning in the door frame with a look of disgust. "viv said i have to stand here while she and beth do the dishes." leah mumbled with a deep seeded frown, folding her arms over her chest.

"oh my god lee please go away!" you whined, throwing a cushion toward her which bounced lamely across the floor. "oh believe me i want to! but beth took my phone and won't give it back unless i stand here." the older blonde huffed, eyes dropping to the array of food laid out on the bed.

"want some?" laura offered kindly as you smacked her leg unimpressed. "oh fine! come on." you sighed and made room for your older sister to sit with the two of you on the bed, laura's running commentary now repeated toward leah as she handed her various different treats to try.

~

"come on juliet you can kiss romeo at training tomorrow, lets go!" leah yelled out and clapped impatiently from where she was leaning against your car waiting as you exchanged kiss after kiss with the blonde in the doorway.

"i love you." "i love you more." "i love you most." "i love you-"

"we get it you're both sickeningly in love now lets go!" leah yelled out again with a groan, dragging her hands down her face as you placed one more sweet kiss to the austrians lips and turned away.

"honestly you're both so obsessed with one another its disgusting-" leah started as she carefully slid into the car and you placed her crutches in the back, closing the door after you and clicking in your belt.

"-but it's nice to see you so happy." your sister sent you a sincere smile which you returned gratefully as you started up the engine.

"oh look, it has a heart." you wiped a fake tear from your eye, dampening the sweet moment. "leah!" you yelped as she landed a firm punch to your arm at the comment.

"you just couldn't let us have a nice sisterly moment could you." "you just assaulted me and it's my fault we can't have nice moments?" "oh toughen up don't be such a wuss." "when my girlfriend has two good knees again...i'm gonna get her to kick your ass."

[uhhlifeig]

Mask - October 21 - word count: 975 - @wolfstarmicrofic (TW: references to abuse)

Remus Lupin sat on the edge of his bed, his hands gripping a book. His chest felt hollow- after all, a few weeks ago, his then-boyfriend had sold him out to Snape. 

The werewolf hadn’t seen Sirius anywhere near their room since- until today.

The door creaked open, and Remus glanced up to see Sirius standing there, eyes darting around as if unsure whether he should step in or retreat. 

He looked thinner, more ragged, and his normally confident and bright mask had been replaced by a kind of skittishness that made Remus feel sick.

The dog animagus avoided Remus’s gaze as he crossed the threshold, heading straight for his bed. He kept his movements quick, eyes focused only on the task of gathering up his things. 

The tension in the room thickened with every passing second.

Remus could feel the anger inside him, the same rage that had been festering since that night. He had kept it buried, but seeing his ex-lover awakened the rage all over again. 

“Sirius,” Remus said sharply. 

Sirius froze, back to Remus, shoulders tensing. He didn’t turn around.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Remus continued, his voice tight. “For weeks. And now you just come in here like nothing happened?”

Sirius’s hands stilled as he clutched one of his books, his knuckles white. He still didn’t turn around.

“I just needed to grab some things,” Sirius mumbled, his voice so quiet it was barely audible, even to the werewolf.

“Just some things?” Remus repeated, standing up from his bed. “Is that it? After everything that happened, after what you did, you’re just going to pretend it didn’t matter?”

Sirius remained silent, still facing the wall, but Remus could see the way his body had gone rigid.

“Why did you do it?” Remus demanded, stepping closer, the anger surging now, spilling out. “You thought it’d be funny? To use me, to use what I am?”

Sirius’s breath hitched. He continued packing, faster now, his hands trembling as he shoved his clothes into his bag.

The scarred boy snapped.

“Look at me!” Remus shouted, anger blazing out. Sirius flinched at the sound, his body recoiling. “I could have killed him! Do you understand that? I could have killed Snape because of you!”

Sirius’s hand froze again, but he still didn’t turn around.

“You don’t get it, do you? I already feel like a monster half the time, and you- you- turned me into one! You’re just like your parents!”

Sirius spun around, his face pale, his eyes wide with panic. “Remus, I—”

The younger boy didn’t stop. “What if I had killed him, Sirius? What if your stupid prank had cost me everything?”

The words hung in the air. Remus took a slow step toward Sirius, and the noiret’s eyes flicked to the door, panic flashing across his face.

“I didn’t mean-” Sirius started, his voice shaky, but Remus cut him off.

“You didn’t think! You never think! You just do whatever you want, without any care for the consequences. You’ve always been reckless, but this- this was-”

Remus moved closer. The sudden motion made the gray-eyed boy step back instinctively, and his heel caught on the edge of his bedframe. 

Before either of them knew what was happening, Sirius lost his balance, falling backward. With a sharp gasp, the shorter boy hit the floor hard, his back slamming against the wooden floorboards. 

His bag spilled its contents, books and clothes scattering around him. The impact definitely knocked the breath from his lungs. 

For a split second, he lay there, dazed, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Sirius!” Remus’s voice came out strangled. He rushed forward, his hand outstretched, but the moment he moved closer, the noiret scrambled away.

It was pure panic. Sirius’s eyes were wide, wild, his breathing fast and shallow. He pushed himself back, his hands slipping on the floor as he moved away from Remus like a cornered animal. 

His back hit the wall with a dull thud, but he didn’t stop, his hands gripping the floor as if he needed to anchor himself.

“Sirius, wait,” Remus said, guilt flooding him, but the older boy wasn’t listening. His chest heaved with each breath, his face pale, his eyes filled with a fear Remus hadn’t seen before.

“I’m fine,” Sirius muttered, though his voice shook. His hands were trembling, his back pressed hard against the wall as if he could sink into it and go somewhere else.

Remus took a step forward, reaching out again. “Sirius, I didn’t mean-”

But Sirius flinched, pressing himself further against the wall. 

“I’m fine,” he repeated, his breath coming in sharp gasps, his teary, fear-filled eyes watching the taller boy with a certain terror.

Remus felt a wave of nausea crash over him. 

“Sirius-” the werewolf tried again, but it was too late.

The dog animagus scrambled to his feet, moving with such desperation that he knocked over the chair by his bed. 

His hands fumbled as he grabbed his bag, stuffing the scattered clothes inside, not even bothering to fold them properly.

“I need to go,” Sirius mumbled, his voice tight with panic. He shoved the last of his things into his bag, his movements frantic. 

His back was still hunched, as if he was bracing for something else.

Before Remus could say anything else, Sirius was gone- the door slammed shut behind him, leaving nothing but a wisp of a scent.

Remus stood frozen in place, his chest aching, his mind racing. The anger had faded completely, replaced by the crushing weight of guilt. He hadn’t meant to scare Sirius. He hadn’t meant to make things worse.

But he had.

And now Sirius was gone again, running from him- terrified of him. The thought made Remus’s stomach churn.

He was missing his star- and what is a moon without its light?

@estellethewriter

pt 2, pt 3, pt 4

[telekineticseance]

POOLSIDE

kinktober day twenty-eight: cockbulge

pairing: joe cooper x gn!reader

summary: you and coop spend some time by the pool while nobodies home

genre: smut

word count: 819

cw: handjob?

author's note: two smut fics in one day? crazzzzyyy. this ones shorter though and didn't take as long obvi.

You laid back on the beach towel, looking at Coop and Remer as they continued splashing around the pool, occasionally tossing Squeak around like he was some kind of pool toy. You had just gotten out and decided to lay out in the sun to dry off before going inside to change.

The guys had just put a pool in for the Summer and like children, the two of them insisted on swimming in it every single day, at any given free time they had. Not that you minded, you enjoyed hanging out with Coop when you had the time, especially during off game season since he’s usually busy focusing on the team during the other part of the year.

Your relaxation was cut off by the sun being suddenly blocked as you looked up and saw Coop hovering over you with a big, playful, grin on his face. “Don’t you look comfy..” He chuckled as he looked down at you.

You rolled your eyes playfully as you giggled up at him before he shook himself almost like  a dog, causing the water on him to splash onto you as you let out a gasp, followed by a series of giggles, “Coop stop! I’m trying to dry off to go inside!”

Coop chuckled as he leaned down, putting his lips to your neck as he kissed your skin softly, sending a chill down your spine before you put your hands on his shoulders. “Remer and Squeak are right over there.” Your tone was harsh and quiet with him.

You glanced over his shoulder to see the empty pool as you looked back at him with confusion, “Oh those two? I made them go on a beer run we have like 15 minutes.” His voice was low as he continued kissing on your neck as you bit your bottom lip.

“And what’s got you all worked up?” Your breathing was already beginning to grow ragged as Coop’s lips stayed fixated on your neck, hitting all the spots you liked as he shrugged.

“Well how good you look in that bathing suit first off. Always makes me so distracted.”

He pulled away looking into your eyes, “You always leave me distracted.”

You never knew why or what you did to him, but Coop always seemed so lovesick around you. Showering you with compliments or keeping his hands on you any chance he got. He was almost addicted to you and needed you at all times.

You reached your hand down, feeling the hardened bulge in his swim trunks as he let out a small groan, already almost falling apart in your hands as you looked into his eyes.

“How long have you been like this?” You cooed at him as you stroked him through his trunks, enabling another groan from him.

“Probably since you got out to dry off,” He chuckled lightly through the increase of his breathing as you continued stroking him through his trunks.

You took the time to tease him, letting your fingers lightly graze the outline before you’d continue palming him, “That feels so so good..”

You smirked to yourself, feeling himself bury his head into your neck as he continued groaning against your neck, his groans deep and low, causing you to get turned on yourself. His lips reattached themselves to your neck once again as he sucked lightly just below your ear, being sure to leave marks for later.

The pacing of your hand only moved faster as you continued stroking him, wanting to feel him finish in his trunks before anything moved further so you could feel him come undone in your hands which had grown to be one of your favorite things over the months of you being together.

He moved his hips with your hands as you continued rubbing him, your pacing increasing with each movement against your palm as he continued moaning against your neck. His hands held onto your hips, his thumbs digging into your hip bones as his breath was hot against your skin.

“Mm’baby I’m so close..” His voice was soft, almost like a breath as he continued rutting against your hand.

You let out a small hum in response, using your other hand to caress his head, stroking his hair as he came hard in his trunk, a loud groan escaping from him, “Fuck…”

His arms were shaking to hold him up over you as he looked down at you with that same love and affection, mixed with a hint of lust. “Did you do that on purpose?”

You shrugged playfully in response looking at him with that same look in your own eyes, “Maybe.”

He chuckled softly, giving you a small kiss on the lips before the back door swung open as Squeak and Remer came charging out with two 12 packs in their hands as Coop let out a groan of annoyance, “Alone times over.”

[all-mirth-no-matter]

Time After Time | Chapter Fifteen

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Summary: You and Tommy head to the races.

Warning: language, assault (again, nothing explicit just not fun), death, ethnic slur

ao3 link | catch up on tumblr here

Chapter 15: Left Hand Free

Well, your left hand’s free, and your right’s in grip, with another left hand, watch his right hand slip towards his gun. Oh, no.  – Left Hand Free, alt-J

What you knew about horse racing could be counted on exactly one hand. You knew there were horses. That their riders were jockeys. That rich people owned and trained the horses. That the fastest horse won. And that most of the horses had really weird names. 

That was it.  

You’d never been to a race. Hell, you weren’t even sure you’d even seen a real race on tv outside of movies or shows. 

The drive to the racetrack wasn’t long. You knew you were still in Birmingham, but that was the extent of your whereabouts. You pretty much stuck to Tommy’s side as the two of you entered the track, your eyes taking in all of your surroundings. 

“So,” you’d started as you made your way inside, “this is a Kimber track, yeah?” 

Tommy nodded, looking around slightly at the people around you. 

“And you said someone was giving him trouble?” you asked, this time a little softer. 

“Aye, the Lees,” he replied, more comfortable with your volume level. “They run Kimbers chalkers.” 

Your brow creased, “And that means?” 

“The men taking the bets. They gang up on them in the rouse of selling them chalk. Steal their money and leave them with a stick.” 

You hummed in understanding. Before you could ask any more, he distracted you by leading you through a side door and approached a man. He shook his hand and gave you both a tight nod as he opened the gate and let you through. Your feet met a floor of gravel and hay, and you realized you must be down in the stables. A row of stalls lined with horses caught your eye. 

“What do you think?” 

You turned back toward Tommy, brow knitted confused at his question. “Of the horses? They’re beautiful,” you replied. 

He looked down with an amused huff, the action reminding you of the black horse in front of you. “Yes, they are. But which do you think will win?” 

You nearly scoffed, “Pff, how should I know?” 

“Take your time.” 

You rose your brow, but he nodded toward the line up, the smirk on his face not yet convincing you that he was serious. But you took his challenge, starting from the end closest to you and moving slowly down the lineup. 

At first glance, they all looked the same to you aside from the color of their coats. They were big, intimidating creatures. But as you took a closer look, you began to see some differences. You began to weigh the pros and cons of size and muscle mass, whether that would make them faster or weigh them down. If taller horses could go farther distances than those with shorter legs. Soon you were even wondering if their hair ever got in their faces while they raced, and if that would eventually cause a problem. 

And yet still, you had absolutely no idea. 

When you reached the black horse again, he pushed his head over the railing and huffed, stomping his foot. You chuckled, reaching out to give him a pet. 

“I don’t know, Tommy. Does it even matter?” 

Tommy, who’d been watching you quietly at the end of the line, furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?” 

You shrugged, running your hands along the horse’s hair. “Aren’t all the races rigged?” 

He breathed out another amused scoff. “Not all of ‘em, love.” 

“That’s not fair, is it?” You asked the horse in the same voice you used on dogs. As if understanding you, the horse shook his head. “See, he agrees.” 

“These horses are up for sale. One of the dealers owes me, so he’s given me early access to take one off the lot.” He walked a few stalls down until he stood in front of a speckled beast, one on the larger end of the spectrum. “I was considering this one. He comes from good breeding and has a good chance to rank.” 

You hummed in acknowledgement, looking up at your horse. He blinked at you and leaned his head against your shoulder, causing you to stumble a little and laugh. “I like this one. He’s got a little attitude.” 

Tommy made his way back to you, his hands in his pockets as he reexamined your horse. “Attitude doesn’t make for good competitors. We want a winner.” 

“Well, you’ve got attitude,” you teased while keeping your focus on the horse. 

“And what does that mean?” He asked, turning all his attention now on you. 

As you met his eyes, you could tell his cheeks were fighting off the smile that his eyes conveyed as he peered down at you. The sight of it made you smirk as you turned your body toward him. “Are you planning to lose?” 

You watched those pale blues move between each of your eyes before dropping to your lips. “Not today.” 

You pulled your lip between your teeth before you replied with, “Neither will he.”

“Hmm,” the battle against his cheek muscles finally lost as he matched your smirk with one of his own, looking back finally toward the horse. “Well, he won’t be racing today, anyhow. None of these horses here will. They’re just prepping for the auction.” Tommy clicked his tongue and the horse turned his attention toward him. He reached out and pet him, “You are a beautiful beast.” 

You smiled as you watched him press his forehead against the horse’s, his voice low as he talked kindly to him. 

“How about a bet?” He asked, this time to you. “We go upstairs and watch the races. We each place a bet. If your horse wins, I’ll buy this boy here. If yours doesn’t win, I’ll buy my first choice.”

“So it’s me against everyone else? That hardly seems fair,” you said with a chuckle before pausing. “Hold on, you said we both place a bet. What if your horse does win?” 

Tommy rose a challenging brow, “You’ll have to wait and see.”

“Again, not fair,” you pressed. 

“That’s the weight of gambling, love. You want the horse?” He nodded to the black horse who was nudging you for attention again. “That’s the cost of your faith.”

“Should we do it?” You asked the horse, giving it your most serious face. He neighed playfully, causing you to giggle. “I may not know a thing about horses, but I know a keeper when I see one. Deal.” 

You shook Tommy’s hand, very reminiscent of that first night in the Garrison when you played your first game. He smiled as he squeezed your hand, telling you to say goodbye to the beast before pulling you back toward the crowds of people. 

——

Tommy’s horse won. 

“You knew,” you demanded, nudging a laughing Tommy as he led you down the corridor with the rest of the drone of people. “I’m never gambling again.”

“I did say I wasn’t going to lose today, didn’t I?” He countered. 

You rolled your eyes and he chuckled again, leading you to the bar and grabbing two champagne flutes. 

“Maybe that’s what you should do,” you quipped, taking a sip of your drink, “fix races.” 

“Now, now — that would be illegal.” 

You chuckled, the drink calming you slightly as the room began to fill with dancing. Ever since you and Tommy left the stables and joined the rest of the crowd, you’d begun to feel uneasy. 

At first you thought it was the crowd itself. Even in your own time, you hadn’t been the biggest fan of high-traffic places. The chaos of it all caused you anxiety, especially when it was a place you weren’t familiar with. And while this place wasn’t anything like some concerts or sporting events you’d attended, it was still a whole group of strangers who knew what they were doing far better than you did. 

On top of that, you felt yourself revert slightly back to how you felt when you first arrived at Small Heath. Like everyone could tell you didn’t belong, that you were different. You could feel yourself trying to hide, much like you had in the first few months of being here. 

Though this time, you had Tommy. 

That reassurance for some reason made you feel a little more comfortable. And yet, here again, as you stood on the outskirts of the dance floor, an anxious chill ran down your spine. 

“Remember what I taught you?” 

Tommy’s question pulled you back to yourself. You met his eyes, sparkling uncharacteristically as he gestured toward the dance floor, offering his hand to you. 

You smiled, forgetting your uneasiness for a moment and letting him pull you. This time, when he wrapped his arm around you, you didn’t take your eyes away from his as he took the lead. And surprisingly, you did remember a good bit of what he (and Johnny Dogs) had taught you that night with the Delphi. 

“A bit different than a gypsy camp, eh?” He jested. 

You shrugged, “I mean, besides the attempted assault, I kind of preferred it. This all feels a little, I don’t know… staged. There it felt,” you met his eyes, “real.” 

His eyes moved down to your lips again as you felt his grip at your back tighten. 

You heard someone call for him, demanding his attention behind you. 

He huffed slightly before turning back toward you. “Will you be alright without me for a moment? It’s time for me to go collect my horse.” 

You nodded as he promised not to be long and found yourself on the outskirts of the room, grabbing another flute. 

The band wrapped up their song as the MC took the mic and introduced the players. With all eyes forward, you gasped as you felt a hand wrap around your arm. 

“Not a sound,” a gravelly voice whispered against your ear, “or this blade goes in all the way.” 

You suppressed a whimper at the sharp tip pressed against your waist, the hand around you tightening. The band roared to life again as the room jumped back into formation, giving the stranger behind you an opportunity to pull you backwards and through the back doorway. 

Squinting into the daylight, the man who’d grabbed you pushed you forward, causing you to stumble into the empty alleyway. 

“Tsk tsk, Tommy should have known better.” 

Your eyes adjusted to see another man walking toward you, gasping slightly when you recognized him. “Benji–”

“Shut up!” He smacked you across the face, sending you backwards. You caught yourself on the ground, chancing to look back up and clutching your bag. 

The door flew open with a frantic Tommy. He ran toward you, lifting you up. “Y/N, you alright?”

Benji chuckled darkly, “The great Thomas Shelby,” he taunted. “Did you think I was going to let that bitch get away with stitching me up? After everything I did for you— for your family! I was a Peaky fucking Blinder!” 

“You tried to steal from us, and you got caught. You know what we do to those who double cross us, Hancock,” Tommy said calmly, trying to subtly position his body between you and the two other men.

“Well, now you’ll get to see what I do to those who threaten me!”

Tommy pushed you backwards just as he grabbed for his gun. You hit the wall as you heard a shot, then the sound of one of the men running toward Tommy, tackling him to the ground and knocking his gun away. Quickly, you reached within your purse and grabbed Polly’s handgun. In an instance, all the training your father had instilled in you came back as you turned, your gun ready. 

The man who had grabbed you was lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood. Benji had Tommy by the hair and a blade to his throat, Tommy’s gun kicked to the side. 

“Drop it, Benji!”

He pressed it harder, enough for blood to begin to trickle down his skin. “The only thing this bastard understands is blood and money. You think he cares about you? Nah, love. You’re just another pawn in his payroll, just like the rest of us.” 

Tommy snarled, struggling against his hold.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for years,” Benji said, emphasizing the word in Tommy’s ears. “First I’m going to finish you, then I’m going to take my time with her.” 

“Let him go!” 

Benji laughed, “What do you think, Tommy boy? Think she has the guts?”

You shared a look with Tommy, who barely nodded before pushing away from Benji’s grasp. Not a second to waste, you pulled the trigger. 

—-

Your hands were still shaking by the time you and Tommy returned to Small Heath. You attempted to calm them by playing with the tattered hem of your dress, but it was just another reminder of the horrible events that’d just occurred. You looked over toward Tommy, the strip of your dress wrapped around his neck to stop the bleeding from Benji’s blade when he’d pushed him away. 

“This is why.” 

Aside from some reassurances that each other were okay (physically), the two of you had been relatively silent for most of the evening. So Tommy’s words made your brow furrow as you questioned him. 

“You wanted to know why I pushed you away— what was the phrase you used?” 

“Ghost. I said you ghosted me,” you replied, slightly amused despite your seriousness to the conversation. 

“This is why. I was worried about putting you in this exact situation. When I couldn’t find you in the hall tonight, I–” he shook his head. “Death seems to come for everyone but me, and I can’t bare to think of you dying because of me–” 

“What happened back there wasn’t because of you,” you rationalized. “He was coming after me. If it hadn’t been for me, you’d be safe–” 

“But you were only in that situation because of us. As long as you work for us, you’ll never be safe.” He took a deep breath and met your eyes. “Though I’m a little less worried about you being able to protect yourself now. Where did you get the gun?” 

“Polly.” 

He scoffed, “Figures.” 

You looked down at the gun, sitting on top of your bag in between you and Tommy on the seat.

You’d killed someone. It’d felt like an almost out of body experience, watching yourself pull the trigger, and the bullet flying through into another man’s chest, ending his life.

Shaking, you took the gun and shoved it back into your bag. 

Tommy pulled over and moved your bag, pulling you across the bench and wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry you had to do that. It’s never easy, deciding to take a life.” 

Despite the tears that’d begun to fall as soon as Tommy pulled you in, you sniffed and shook your head. “I’m not sorry,” you surprised yourself. He let go of you enough to see your face as you continued. “He wasn’t going to stop. He was going to hurt me, he was going to hurt you.” You swallowed hard, nearly afraid to say your next thoughts out loud. “I would do it again to protect you, or your family.” 

Tommy watched you as you said your words carefully. Instead of responding, he lifted your chin to meet him and kissed you. 

It was dark when you returned to town. Tommy said he had a couple more items to take care of that night and asked if you wanted him to drop you off. You declined, asking if you could accompany him. Truthfully, you didn’t want to be alone after the events of the day. He seemed to understand and agreed, telling you that he needed to drop the car off at the Yard and check on an expected delivery.

“Evening, Miss,” Charlie greeted you, with Curly offering a big smile as you and Tommy drove into the Yard. 

“My delivery?” Tommy asked as he helped you down from the car. 

“Aye, this way.” 

You followed the trio through the yard as the rain began to fall lightly. Luckily, Ada had forced you to purchase a hat to go along with your outfit tonight, keeping the rain away from your face. You were wrapping Tommy’s jacket around you tighter as they approached a huge crate. 

“Geeze, what’s in there?” 

Tommy didn’t answer you as he examined the crate, his brow creased. “This isn’t right. Crowbar?” 

Curly and Charlie opened the crate and pulled out one of the many smaller crates inside. He lifted the item inside and your mouth involuntarily fell. 

“Tommy, that’s—”

“A machine gun.” 

The three men looked at each other, equally as dumbfounded as you felt. 

“Thought you said these were supposed to be motor bikes and petrol?” Charlie asked Tommy. 

“They were. Must have picked up the wrong fuckin’ crate.” He looked at the crate for a moment as you watched, curious what was going through his mind. 

“Tom,” Charlie said cautiously. “This says it’s destined for Lybia. This is– what are we going to do?”

Tommy took a deep breath and finally turned back toward his men. “Get it out of the rain. Put it in the stables for now.” 

“In the stables– you can’t be serious–” 

“That’s what we’re going to do for now. You, me, and Y/N are going to inventory the crate. Curly, prepare for a new horse.” 

—-

A week went by, and you hadn’t said a peep about the crate sitting in Charlie Strong’s Yard. The crate bound for Lybia that contained 25 Lewis machine guns, 10,000 rounds of ammunition, 50 semiautomatic rifles, and 200 pistols with shells. Tommy had sworn you all to secrecy, even from Polly. 

So when Tommy invited you to the Yard after an early shift, you were slightly nervous. 

“Thought you’d want to meet the newest Shelby racehorse,” Tommy finally said when you got to the stables. 

Honestly, you’d completely forgotten all about the horse Tommy had purchased at the races with all the other stuff going on. Between the sleepless nights dreaming of a gun in your hands, and the looming sword of those rifles hanging over your head, you felt like you’d collapse if one more disaster struck. 

But instead, you were pleasantly surprised when you walked through the arch to see the black horse you’d befriended at the track. 

“Hey,” you greeted sweetly as you began to pet him. He neighed a greeting to you before pushing his nose against your shoulder. “What is this, Tommy? You won the bet.” 

He shrugged. “I changed my mind. He has his first race Monday. I’m going to take him down to Garrison Lane tomorrow.” 

“Why?” 

“Gonna have a Chinese woman do the powder trick. Apparently she’s a fortune teller as well,” he smirked at you, causing you to roll your eyes. “Whether it’s true or not, it’ll convince everyone to place bets on him.” 

You still didn’t completely understand, but you went with it. “Will he win?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good,” you smiled up at the horse. “What did you decide to name him?” 

“Monaghan Boy.” 

>> next chapter << chapter masterlist

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[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 63 (The Old Man at the Museum)

The Brindleton Light circled from Deadgrass Isle across the bay as a drizzling rain added moisture to the air.

Conrad hadn't forgotten about the ghostly growl he'd heard on his last visit with Heather, and now, more than ever, he needed a distraction.

He hopped on the ferry and made it to the isle just in time for the museum to close, but he hadn't come to the isle for the artefacts.

An old man walked down the museum steps and offered a friendly wave. Conrad froze. He looked strikingly like his own father, though the closer he walked, the resemblance faded.

His eyes were darker, hair straighter, nose too thin, and maybe he was shorter, too. But for a split second, he swore the man could have been Stephen Gordon himself.

"Detective Gordon! You just missed last entry." He leaned down to give friendly Gord a welcome greeting, too.

"Y-you know me?"

"I know everyone! Lived in Brindleton all my life, and when a new copper moves from the big city to our sleepy town, word travels faster than a greyhound."

Conrad smiled at the kindly old man. In the distance, he thought he saw a light flicker through one of the lighthouse's ground floor windows. "I was hoping to check out the Brindleton Light tonight, anyway."

"You like investigating ghost stories in your spare time?"

"Can ghosts turn the lights on?"

The old man's gaze followed Conrad's toward the base of the tower, but all the windows were dark. "No one's lived in there for close to 150 years, but ghosts are crafty souls!"

He chuckled warmly, and Conrad felt at ease in his presence. "Tonight I just needed something to keep my mind off...something else."

The old man nodded, understanding enough from Conrad's stance not to press for more. "Well, if it's a ghost you want, the cemetery is the place, but some say the ghost of the old lightkeeper's dog still stands guard over the tower, long after his master's death. The bulb runs on electricity now, but they say his old dog's ghost still watches the bay for passing ships and barks to warn them of the rocks."

"Sounds like a very good dog," Conrad mused, ruffling Gord's fur. His dog barked happily.

"I could show you around if you like. I've got to lock the stairwell door, anyway."

Conrad smiled. The old lightkeeper and his dog knew the importance of spending time with those they loved. "You know, I'll definitely be back to take you up on the offer another time, but I shouldn't be here. Not tonight."

The old man tipped his cap with a genial wave. Conrad and Gord circled the lighthouse once, but he couldn't find any sign of someone who might've turned the lights on.

He pet Gord on the head. "All these local ghost stories, talk of Grim Reapers and ambrosia... They must have me seeing things at the lighthouse."

Gord offered a friendly bark before they returned to the pier and boarded the ferry to the mainland. Rain misted against his face as the boat carried them toward the faint lights dotting the shoreline. He walked back up the hill from the wharf to Sable Square, taking his time and collecting himself.

Heather was quiet when he walked through the door.

"You waited up for me. I'm sorry."

"I got called in to work for an emergency tum-readjustment, but I would've been up anyway. What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry I just took off. I wasn't trying to scare you, but I had to get my thoughts together. Losing my mother so young was really devastating. I always thought I wouldn't have kids because I didn't want to leave open the possibility they could lose me before they're ready, like I lost her. I love Ash, but it's not the same. He still has you and Malcolm."

Heather sympathized and tried to comfort him. "If you're not ready to be a father, I understand. But when you walked out tonight, I knew more than ever I want a family with you, Conrad. Not just Ash and me, plus you. I love you so much, but if you're never going to be ready..."

"Remember what you said the night I first brought up moving in together? I'm not ready tonight, but I've got months, right? I feel unprepared and totally unready for anyone to call me 'Dad', but you are my family, Heather. And Ash. And this little one, too."

"Conrad, are you sure? This is a bigger commitment than moving in together."

He tried to comfort her fears with a smile. "When Gord and I were out tonight, I spent a lot of time thinking about what my Dad would say if he was here. After we lost my mom, my dad and I leaned on each other for a lot, but I spent years trying to navigate my grief without burdening him further, and I was angry."

"Conrad, I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. He worked a lot and we didn't get to talk much. He didn't like to talk about her, and all I wanted to do was keep remembering her out loud to keep her with us. After he died, I just bottled everything, and when Gord came along I thought that would be it. Me, my dog, and my career."

"But then you met me..."

He took her by the hand and stood from the sofa. "Meeting you changed everything. On my way home, I realized my father showed me until the day he died what family meant to him through the life he gave me. It's not that I don't want this. I love you, I'm just scared. But I'd jump through flame portals to keep you and Ash safe, and I'd do it to protect our baby, too."

He crouched down speak to her small bump. "I promise I'll be ready to be the father to you that my dad was to me."

Heather looked at Conrad with a loving gaze. "We'll always be a team, and you can talk to me about anything, including your parents. You never say much about them, and I never want to pry."

He stood. "I think I know the first thing I need to un-bottle. I only had a few boxes worth of stuff to move when I got here, but I left my parents in a box under the bed in the guest room. You have so many photos of your family and friends all over the house and I told myself there was no need to clutter the walls with more... But I think I need to take my parents out of the box."

With this turn of events, the Nesbitt-Gordon household began planning for a new family member, and Conrad took an important step facing his past. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

[fandomshifter]

Can I get general headcanons for the proxies? (Or basically Tim,Brian,And toby?)

Okay, I'm back with creepypasta things!! So send me more asks 🙏 🙏🙏

These headcannons are based on my au "Don't go into the woods." There are general all-around headcannons & personal headcannons for each Tim, Brian & Toby. Hope you enjoy!! Again, these are my personal headcannons. Yes, the mansion exists. Yes, it's found family. Yes, it's also horror. I have also watched Marble Hornets and hate twinkified versions of the proxies. Also, would anyone be interested in OC stuff ?

⦻ THE PROXIES ⦻

⦻ The proxies are the top dogs and have a lot of respect from members of the mansion. They are directly under Slenderman in terms of rank. When Slenderman is away on business with his brothers or 'recruiting', the proxies are in charge of the missions and the mansion.

⦻ All proxies have a scar of the symbol [⦻] located somewhere on their body, that's personal to them. Slenderman can use it as a homing beacon to find their location or sense if they have died, which he can choose to bring them back or keep them dead. Tim is on the base of his neck, Brian's is on the middle of his back, and Tobys is on the right side of his neck.

⦻ Proxies get given heightened senses. They can run faster and are stronger. However, they have to train to be able to deal with the new changes to their body. Ontop of these injuries can heal quicker, but they will still need to see nurse Ann or Eyeless Jack to get it bandaged and checked on. Small injuries take a short time to heal & and bigger injuries take longer to heal. Missing limbs take a shorter amount of time only because they are kinda important to be able to do their jobs.

⦻ Very frequent visits to many different states. For recruitment, proxies have a list of people they have to visit and get close to, basically infiltrating their life to see if they would be fit to work. Then Slenderman would give them "Slender Sickness," which would then result in said person either dying before going to the mansion or living to become a proxie, which is highly rare.

💊 TIM WRIGHT [MASKY] 💊

💊 Drives a red truck everywhere. He stole it from a victims house and changed the licence plate. He doesn't let anyone else drive it unless he really really needs too and it's usually Brian or Liu.

💊 He chainsmokes when he is stressed. People can usually find him smoking outside on the porch, or he is in his room smoking while watching a movie or a TV show. If he isn't smoking, he's eating sweets or chewing gum. He always has both on him.

💊 Considering the proxies' clothes get ripped all the time, for the first few months of living in the mansion, he learned to sew clothes back up. When people started to find out, they would always ask him, especially Jeff & Nina. So he would make people pay him depending on how long it would take him.

💊 Due to being from the South, his accent tends to slip out during heated arguments. People found it funny at first. Now they take as a warning not to make him ANY angrier. The last time that happened, Jeff ended up getting tied to a tree for 5 hours.

💊 He is the leader of the proxies, having know of Slendermans' existence longer than anyone in the mansion, so they have a close "bond" of sorts. However, he feels alone because, in a way, he has no one to relate to since Brian & Toby only knew of his existence for a few years before joining, but him...He's know Slenderman his whole life and feels like there is no life worth living without Slenderman because everytime he runs, it always comes back.

💊 He has: Depression, insomnia, suffers nicotine addiction & Slender-sickness.

🔫 BRIAN THOMAS [HOODIE] 🔫

🔫 Brian has a motorbike that he uses on solo missions or just to have a drive during the night. Most nights, he can't sleep, so him and Tim would race each other. Tim in his truck, Brian on his bike. They would race down empty & quiet roads.

🔫 He has a pair of reading glasses that he only wears in the comfort of his own room or Tim's room. He wears them to read [ obviously ], but also when he uses a computer and knows he is going to be on his phone for a long period of time.

🔫 He can understand & write in Binary [ code like 1s & 0s ]. He uses it to fuck with his victims because it freaks them out. He also uses it as a party trick during get-togethers or as a game.

🔫 Brian isn't mute like many others headcannon him as. It's more like he doesn't like talking to people he doesn't have, too. He has too much going on physically and mentally to the point where he doesn't care what people think of him just as long as he gets his job done.

🔫 Brian is in charge of locating targets. He sometimes works with BEN, but more often than not, he does it by himself, having been a computer nerd back in his younger days.

🔫 He has: Depression, PTSD, OCD & Slender-sickness

🪓 TOBY ERIN RODGERS [TICCI TOBY] 🪓

🪓 Toby grew up in a religious household, his father being a Christian man, so he grew up very sheltered on things such as 'self expression'. So now, being at the mansion, he expresses himself more. This being with clothing styles, makeup, gender, Sexuality. Ontop of this, he doesn't mask his personality or hide his mental issues behind a wall.

🪓 You can find him drawing in his notebook during his free time. If the weather's nice, he sits outside in the forest, and if it's raining, he sits in his room smoking a joint while he doodles away. Nobody knows what he draws or what they look like. It's like a diary to him.

🪓 Out of the 3, he is more hands-on. He doesn't think before he kills, he let's Tim & Brian do that. He also doesn't like using guns and things such as, like I said hands on, so blunt force trauma and mutilation are his go-to. Especially if the target is an abuser and so on and so forth, then their body parts will be found all over the state.

🪓 He hates being inside for too long, so he has a set time every day where he goes on an hour long walk in the forest. He doesn't do anything he just walks and takes in the scenery because each walk he takes is never the same.

🪓 He is not allowed to drive. Tim & Brian taught him how to, but he has a habit of speeding or panicking before he can turn the engine on. He stole Tim's truck once and drove around with Jeff & BEN. ALMOST crashed the car, Tim was fucking pissed, which is why he created the truck ban.

🪓 He has: CIPA, Tourette syndrome, ADHD, amnesia caused by slenderman & Slender-sickness.

[silentglassbreak]

(photo cred to @lilyhella's post)

Fragmented

Noah Sebastian x OFC

Chapters are shorter because I want to get this story out faster. Just means more chapters than the original. The love I am getting from this story, and from Anonymous, has me absolutely dying. You all are the best. Thank you so much for taking the time to follow this! 🖤

Warnings: Desperate, sad, heartbroken smut.

+It goes without saying. This is a work of fiction. My words are mine. Plagiarism is a crime.

Taglist: @flowery-mess @lma1986 @myownthoughts12 @poisongirl616 @missduffsblog @reidsblessing @malerieee @jilliemiw86 @thisbicc

Also, @diabolicdiatonics, your kind words and feedback earned you a spot on the tag list. 😉

Part 5 - Blurry

‘Having your heart ripped out of your chest’ is a grotesque, yet extremely accurate metaphor to use when you’re dealing with heartbreak. The pain, the depression, the perspective it gives, I can imagine resembles that of someone tearing through your flesh, muscle, and bone, ripping your beating heart out, and throwing it on the floor like it means nothing.

Ironic, because I’d prefer that to what I was currently feeling.

Two days had gone by since Mileena ended us. Two slow, long, painful days. One of the best parts about being a parent, that no one forewarns you of, is that you don’t get to break down. Not when you have kids.

After that phone call, all I wanted was to crawl in a hole. If anything, just to keep myself from crawling into a bar or a bottle. I wanted to lay in bed and never wake up. Stay in the safe bubble of my room forever, where the pillows and sheets and blanket smelled like her.

Is that what I did? No. I promptly took my daughter home, and kept her for the following forty-eight hours.

She didn’t deserve to see the pain that this had caused, that I somehow managed to conjure. She deserved her Daddy’s full attention, and that is exactly what she got.

The first night was hard. I had to text Leena several times to ask questions. Had her bedtime changed? Why did she keep throwing her favorite stuffed lion out of the crib? Where was the rash cream? What the hell did ‘handle’ mean?!

Leena: We go to bed at 8:30 now.

Leena: She’ll do that over and over. She’s messing with you. She’ll stop after a few times.

Leena: Medicine cabinet, Addie’s bathroom, top shelf.

Leena: Angel. She misses the dog.

Her responses were robotic. Cold. No emotion at all.

After Addison finally fell asleep, I had no time to sulk. The tour exhaustion creeping in and the weight of the entire day pulled me into bed, narrowly managing to click the baby monitor on before I fell into a slumber. In my dreams, Mileena was with me, curling her arm around my waist like she did, pressing her ice cold feet to the back of my legs, and all was right with the world.

But that reprieve didn’t last nearly long enough, as Addison was awake, bright and early at 6:30AM, ready to eat and be changed.

How did Mileena do this for months alone? I was twelve hours in and felt like dying already.

That day, I called and begged for help, prompting Nick to come hang with Addison and I for most of the day. He also, thankfully, brought Angel to stay with us until Addison went back to Mileena.

We didn’t talk about it. I couldn’t. It felt too real already.

The day passed easier, but I still had to ask too many questions.

Me: She wont eat her puffs. Is there something else she eats now?

Leena: Cereal.

Me: What’s the wifi password?

Leena: Addison1031!

Me: What size diapers does she wear?

Leena: It’s on the front of the diaper.

By the final day, I had vowed not to ask any more questions. I was a father, a grown man, I could handle my own daughter. I could make decisions and figure out how to keep her happy and fed. I wasn’t an invalid.

So that’s exactly what I did. I didn’t ask a single question the entire day. Each time I managed to figure out what Addison needed or wanted, I cheered for myself, proud that I could manage.

But by midday, my phone had chimed on the counter while I fed Addie lunch.

Leena: Everything okay?

I scrunched my eyebrows.

Me: Yeah, why?

Leena: Haven’t heard from you all day.

This made me roll my eyes.

Me: I am an adult. I can handle an 18-month old.

Leena: Okay. Is 7 a good time to come by and get her?

My heart sunk, a regular feeling for me these days.

Me: Sure.

I pursed my lips, typing again.

Me: Are you sending someone else to come get her?

Leena: Do you want me to?

I thought about this. Did I want to see her? Feel the hurt even more than I already could? Have her so close that I could touch her, but not be allowed to? Rip that wound, that had only barely begun to scab, back open wide to bleed all over?

Me: No.

Yes. Yes I did.

I was frazzled, Addison in stage four meltdown mode. She was extra tired, having refused to go down for a nap today. It was 6PM, and I hadn’t had the opportunity to pick up the living room or kitchen yet like I planned, intending to not look like a total mess in front of Leena.

My sweats were covered in what could only be described as mystery goo, crusted and a foul color. Was it food? Crap? Boogers? What a time to be alive.

“Lady, I don’t know where your lion is!” I was currently ripping my living room apart, sweat coating my forehead and neck, while my daughter sat in her walker, screaming bloody murder for her toy over and over.

“Where did you put him, mama?!” The couch cushions were askew, the coffee table pushed off to the side, and all of the cabinets in the entertainment center wide open.

The constant screaming burned a hole in my brain. I stood up, and took a calculated breath before my head exploded. It hurt so God damn bad, and the ibuprofen was just not cutting it.

It was at that exact moment I saw a flash of yellow fuzz fly by my peripheral, and I whipped my head around to see Angel, lion between his teeth, standing at attention at the edge of the living room.

I let out all of the air in my lungs, nearly collapsing in relief when he trotted over to the baby, dropping the stuffed toy on her tray and licking away her drying tears.

My body fell back onto the remaining intact cushion, and I dropped my head into my hands.

Who was I kidding? I can’t do this.

Like some kind of cosmic joke, the doorbell rang just as the thought crossed my mind, and I heavily lifted myself up, stalking to the door.

I pulled it open, any stress and anxiety melting, and an overwhelming calm overtaking me. As it sunk in, the tinge of dread at the end kept me from smiling at the sight.

Mileena stood on the other side, black tank top cut low, jean’s hugging her hips, flip-flops showing off black painted toe nails. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun on top of her head where her sunglasses were perched.

“Hey.”

I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. I just wanted to fall, let her catch me. I wanted to break down like a small child, and cry. Listen to her tell me it was okay. She was done punishing me, and she would come home. That life would go back to the way it was supposed to. That she loved me, and forgave me, and that we’d never be apart again.

But I knew better.

“Hey. Come in.” I stood aside, letting her step inside, watching as her eyes surveyed the scene in front of her. She looked amused.

I began twirling around, putting cushions back and straightening the table. Picking up toys and tossing them in the bin, closing cabinets.

I looked back at her, frozen in the same spot, a grin on her face. My chest lurched for a second, until she lifted her finger and pointed behind me.

Confused, I looked back, seeing Addison now laying her head down atop her lion, eyes closed and snoozing comfortably. Still bent over, completely defeated, I fell back onto the floor, knees bent, and rested my arms on them, shaking my head and chest trembling with quiet laughter. Leena took a step into the living room, chuckling herself.

"Long day?"

I just looked at her, and shrugged. "Maybe a little."

Her eyes were sympathetic. Her smile was tight.

"Uhm," She shifted, and it was then I noticed the tote bag on her shoulder. "do you mind if I run upstairs for a minute? I just need to grab a few things."

I waved toward the staircase lazily. "Go for it. Looks worse up there though."

My tone was dismissive, which wasn't exactly on purpose, but I couldn't muster anything else in that moment. She just nodded, trotting up the steps. I just stared at Addie, breathing evenly, thinking about how simple life seemed when she was sleeping.

"Noah?" I looked up to see her, hanging slightly over the banister. "Have you seen my flat iron?"

"Under the bathroom sink."

She shook her head. "It's not."

I grunted, standing back up. "Angel." I snapped and grabbed his attention, pointing at Addison. He promptly jumped up from his bed in the corner of the room, and curled up in front of the walker, always keeping watch.

I jogged up the stairs, brushing past Mileena, making a conscious effort not to notice that she smelled like fresh soap. Recently showered.

I swung into the bathroom, bending down to look under the sink, and dug around the miscellaneous items that lived under there. I finally located it, beneath a stack of towels, and pulled it out. She was stood in the doorway to the bathroom, and I handed it to her, stopping just short of a foot in front of her.

She grabbed it gratefully. "Thanks."

Leena turned around and disappeared into the closet, coming back out with some clothes she had left, and other random items that I didn't take note of. I leaned against the frame of the bathroom door, just watching her move. It made it worse, seeing her empty her things out of the bedroom, but maybe it would help me accept the situation? I definitely didn't have the energy to fight.

She finally zipped the bag, and looked up at me. "I think that's good for now. I can always grab more when I drop her off again."

"Mm." Was all I could say.

She shrugged, and sat down on the bed, her large, deep brown eyes staring at me.

"Do you hate me?"

She's joking, right? She had to be.

"What?"

"You look like you hate me."

This made me laugh from somewhere deep in my chest, a twisted, sadistic cackle. "Wow."

She crinkled her nose. So fucking cute. "Wow, what?"

I grabbed the back of my neck and looked down at the floor, trying to find the strength.

"No, Mileena. I don't hate you." I pulled at the hairs that grew at the base of my skull, begging for a sensation other than this fucking misery. "Quite the opposite, actually."

Her face looked...sad. So fucking sad. I could relate.

"I hate this." I pointed to the bag next to her on the bed. "But not you."

Her hand tapped the mattress, beckoning me to sit. I knew I should give her a wide enough berth, fearing I may lose control at any given moment. I wasn't good at that in general, but around Mileena? Fucking hell.

I didn't budge.

She rolled her eyes. "Noah. Come sit with me."

Well, I mean, when she put it that way.

I walked over to the bed, and sat. I kept at least six inches of space between us, and looked at her.

Her eyes were shiny; wet. This was hard for her, and I knew that, but I couldn't see how she could be hurting as much as me.

I was worth losing. She wasn't.

"I just," Her voice was crackling, as if it was almost gone. "I miss you."

"You know how to fix that." My words were so matter-of-fact, and I knew it wasn't that easy, but I wanted it to be.

"I told you. I can't."

"Can't, or won't?"

She was just gazing at me. There was something behind her eyes, that I was sure she didn't want me to see, something vulnerable and broken. Her soul. It hurt.

Maybe that's why she grabbed me, wrapped her arms around me, and buried her head in my chest. It startled me, but my arms still circled her, and my chin came to rest on her head. Her body was trembling hard, soft cries coming out of her.

I pressed my lips in to the top of her head, my own tears beginning to spill over, soaking into her hair.

"It's alright, baby. I got you." I tried my damndest to keep my voice even, hugging her tighter the harder she sobbed.

"Noah, I love you so fucking much."

I began rocking us gently. "I love you too, Mileena. More than you could ever understand."

Her fingers were gripping the shirt on my back like her life depended on it. "I'm so fucking sorry. I'm so sorry."

Her words were so quiet that I almost missed them.

I pulled back, looking down at her reddened face. "Don't."

Her eyes widened, her lip shaking.

"Don't apologize."

I don't know why. I didn't even think. I just leaned down, and brushed a soft kiss against her lips, as if it was nothing. Like a reflex.

But when I tried to pull away, her hand had me, the back of my neck locked into place, and her mouth pressing against me hastily, as if she was starving. Like she would never get the chance again.

A spark ignited inside of me, a roaring fire building in my chest, and for the first time in days, I finally felt alive. The blood shooting through my veins was hot as sulfuric acid, needing to be put to use or it may burn through my skin.

Pressing my tongue into her mouth, she let a gasping moan come out of her mouth.

That was it. She was done for. Even if only in this moment, she was mine.

I dug my fingers into her waist, and flipped her around, pushing her back onto the bed, without disconnecting our lips. I sucked her bottom lip into my mouth, letting my teeth dig in hard enough to make her whimper.

Trailing wet kisses down the side of her neck, I let my left hand trail down the center of her body, and pop the button of her jeans open effortlessly, pulling the zipper down.

"Noah."

She was trying to get my attention, as if she didn't have every shred of my mind on her at all times. I didn't stop, my hand sliding down into the front of her jeans, fingers slipping into her panties.

"You tell me to stop, and it's done." I spoke against her neck, making her shiver.

I paused, waiting, but heard no sounds of protest. Just hot, ragged breathing.

Mercilessly, my hand slipped down between her lips, my index finger penetrating her smoothly, making her back arch clean off the bed.

"That's it, baby." I pressed my lips to her cheek, slipping my middle finger in, curling both digits to graze her sweet spot. "Just let it all go."

It was as if a rubber band snapped in her, her body loosening, relaxing beneath my touch. Her eyes had fluttered closed, her lashes dancing on her cheekbones. I watched her, mouth open, drinking in the sight of her coming undone. Her hips bucked, fucking herself harder on my hand.

Her hands pulled at my arm, grounding herself. "I'm going to fucking come." Her words were broken, fighting for breath.

"Yeah baby, come for me." I pressed against the soft spot inside of her, applying more steady pressure as I fingered her savagely.

I saw her eyes rolling back, and felt her spasm around my hand, a flood of moisture soaking her panties.

She reached her face up, connecting our lips again, and we laid there, making out for longer than necessary, arms and legs tangled together. How long we stayed like this, I just couldn't say. I would've stayed there forever if I could.

Eventually her hand snaked down to my sweats, palming the hard erection I had been trying to ignore. I grunted, pushing up into her hand. I would take any touch, any attention, from her.

"Noah?"

I pressed my forehead to hers, noses bumping as I continued to press light kisses on her lips. "Hmm?"

"I need you."

I am not one to deny someone their needs.

It took a fraction of a second before I had her jeans off, panties going along with, and was sliding my sweats down, letting my cock free. Her eyes stared at me, half-masked. Waiting.

I had no time to waste, for fear at any moment she may just disappear, so I lined myself up to her, and pressed in hard. She let out a noise that could only be described as guttural. I took a moment to adjust, trying not to explode right then and there. Once I had gotten a grip on myself, I began sliding slowly in and out of her.

Her hands grabbed me, fisting the hair on the back of my head, and pulled my face down to hers, locking us again in a warm, wet kiss. The emotion that poured between us was an ebb and flow of want and regret, not knowing what was coming after this was over.

Leena’s hips shifted to meet my thrusts, our bodies pressed together in a rhythmic dance. We parted to breathe, panting together, each growing closer to our respective climaxes.

“Noah,” She was staring up at me. “I love you.” She grit her teeth. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

I had to close my eyes, focusing on the feel of her around me, her pussy tighter and tighter with each thrust.

“Fuck, Mileena. I fucking love you.”

Her hands were now holding my shoulders, her face desperate. Her eyes begged me to come as I felt her begin to spasm again.

That’s all it took. I let go, the waves rushing over me all at once, my skin burning white hot.

We stared at each other for a long time, pain being shared between the small space of our bodies. It was almost suffocating, but I preferred it over feeling like I would never be here again. That single fact was enough to keep me locked onto her, silently begging her not to leave me.

However, she broke our connection, shifting underneath me, a sign that this was done. The moment had gone, and it was time to let reality back into the room.

-

Two weeks. Two weeks without my better half. The side of my soul that held anything good and sane. Two weeks I had felt like the shell of a human, a suit of skin hung over a skeleton like some kind of elaborate Halloween decoration. Two weeks I had felt like I was going to die at any given moment, or wished I would.

Somehow, I was still breathing.

Today was going to be different, though. I had received a call from Alec, our representative from Sumerian, saying that the meeting was set and we all needed to be there.

I anticipated this meeting every second since that moment in the hotel. It was finally time to make things right, to at least some degree. I was nothing if not ecstatic.

My truck parked neatly next to Jolly's Audi in the parking lot, I met the guys, who all stood outside the building, chatting.

"Afternoon, gents." The smile across my face nearly broke my jaw.

"Hey, he's alive!" Folio's arm came up to shove me, making me shove back playfully.

"Shut up, dude. I'm going through shit."

He responded with an eye roll. "Can't even check in, dick."

"Cut the man some slack, he's adjusting." Nick snickered.

"Yep. I'm adjusting." I laughed.

A woman, nearly as tall as me, clean-cut and wildly intimidating, opened the door to the building and addressed us.

"Guys? We're about to get started."

We all straightened up, walking into the office and following her to a conference room.

"Ah, guys!" Alec stood from the long meeting table, a warm smile on his face. He was dressed casually, jeans and a plain blue t-shirt, coming around to give each of us a hard hug. "Good to see you."

We all said our greetings before taking seats on the same side of the table as Alec. The woman, who I had not met yet, was sat on the other side, a folder in front of her and a pen in her hands.

"This is Elizabeth Jones, our attorney." She nodded.

"Wish we were meeting under better circumstances." We all nodded in approval. She sighed, looking at the time on her watch. "She should be here shortly."

My heart began thumping when I could hear the door handle turning, and the heavy wooden door swinging open. I leaned back in my seat, my hands folded over my stomach. I caught Alec's face, giving me a knowing glance to keep my mouth shut.

"Rachel. Come in."

Rachel walked in, dressed more professional than I think I had ever seen. She wore black slacks, a grey, sleeveless blouse, and her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her lipstick was bright red. Likely due to the demon living inside of her attempting to escape. I only allowed myself a fleeting glance before I stared down at the table.

"What can I do for you all?"

Elizabeth stood to greet her.

"Rachel, I'm Elizabeth, nice to meet you." Her smile was fake, snake-like. I loved it. Deception. Rachel's exact game being played against her.

The blonde sat directly across from me, and I could feel her eyes on me. I didn't even bother looking back at her. She didn't deserve that. Not from me.

"Rachel, we brought you here to discuss the events that took place in Manhattan, and San Diego." Alec's voice was calm.

I heard her sigh. "I assumed as much."

"Okay. Well," I looked over to see him gesturing with his hands. "you see, it's come to our attention that there is some hostile tension between you, and some of the members of the band."

I looked over to my brothers, noticing they all glared directly at her.

"Tension?" She scoffed. "You mean the way Noah nearly attacked me at the hotel?"

My jaw tightened. Shut up. Don't say a word.

"The story we heard had to do with you causing a scene in the hallway of the hotel, making advances toward Noah, and spreading some rather salacious rumors about him at a club in New York."

Her hand slapped down on the table, causing a loud, sharp sound to echo in the room. I didn't move an inch.

"That's bullshit! He came to my fucking room late at night, misconstrued me asking to hang out, and then nearly pounced on me three days later when his girlfriend fucking left him!"

Don't fucking speak, Noah. It's not fucking worth it.

My hands were nearly ripping the skin off each other, my nails digging in to keep from letting my rage spill over.

"Ms. Hollis," Elizabeth's voice came in, unnaturally soothing. "the details of the events are unimportant." She sent a stare at me, to which I did not return.

"So why am I here?" Rachel's voice was irritated. Yes, what an inconvenience this must be...for her.

"Due to the aforementioned tension, and lack of cohesion with this working relationship, we would like to make you an offer."

I finally snuck a glance at Rachel, who had an eyebrow raised at Elizabeth in apprehension.

"What kind of offer?"

Elizabeth slid the folder over to her, setting a manicured hand down on the table.

"Six months pay, up front. All vacation days paid out, and several letters of recommendation from Sumerian."

Her mouth fell open, and her eyes narrowed. "You're firing me?!"

She turned her attention back to Alec, her voice becoming shrill.

"It's a separation." Alec was cold.

Rachel stood up, shoving the folder back at Elizabeth.

"Oh fuck that, you can't fire me over this!"

"Again, this is not a termination, Rachel. It's an amicable separation."

Elizabeth, however, was met with the end of Rachel's pointer finger.

"How dare you!" She turned to us next, her lips sneer and teeth bared. "And you!" She looked directly at me. I challenged her gaze, and couldn't help but let slip the slightest smirk.

"Oh, you fucking bastards." She backed away from the table. "You'll be hearing from my fucking lawyer."

The last of her I saw was a flash of her hair before the door slammed shut.

"Guys?" Jolly looked at Alec and Elizabeth. "Do we need to be worried?"

Elizabeth just stood, sighing heavily.

"I hope not."

[beeanca-writing]

New WIP snippets

Hello! As I mentioned previously, I'm currently working on a new WIP. It'll be shorter than my previous projects (about 6 chapters), and you'll likely get the first 3 chapters in a batch, before getting the second half a few months later. No release date yet for the first half, but I'd love late September, near my birthday.

I'd rather not talk too much yet since I'm still working things out, but I thought you'd might be interested in two little sneak peeks. :) Roxie is the main character, while Toni and Annie are the ROs (it's a romance-focused game, so you'll be able to romance them either separately or together). Enjoy!

I don't know why I say that. Why I help light a fire that never should've been created in the first place.

I think about the regret I'll feel later, on the shift this will bring our group, on Annie's disappointed face, on the regret I'll feel when my head hits the pillow at night.

I think about all that, but it's brief. It's brief because, soon, Toni's hands are on my neck, pulling me toward her while her lips finally find mine.

She's warm, her lips slightly dry, her tongue tasting like vodka. As I sit on her lap, I feel her body close to mine, her hands already traveling, going down to my skirt, easily lifting it up. I feel her moan inside my mouth when she touches my underwear, her quick fingers already ready.

The rest happens fast, maybe even too fast. Night passes with Toni's kisses and nibbles — Annie doesn't like nibbling, she never has — and her warm body on mine.

The understanding of what we did only hits us an hour later, when we're covered by a blanket that's too small, Toni's hand on my hair while I listen to her heartbeat.

"What now?" she whispers, as if that would diminish what just happened.

*********

She smiles, her teeth crooked, kind of pointy, and slightly yellowed, and I involuntarily smile back.

"I've always liked your smile," I admit, because it's true, and also because I know her question was a confession and I wanted to make one too.

I gain another smile in response; this time, it's an embarrassed one.

When I lay down on her chest again, I feel her heart beat faster when my hand touches her arm, drawing imaginary circles with my thumb. I feel like a dog sleeping on a brand-new pillow for the first time.

For the first time in a long while, sleep comes quick, Toni's cafuné rocking me until I fall asleep with a deep, quick, almost boring sleep, with no dreams nor nightmares.

[evenmoreofadisaster]

One looks smaller then usagi in some of these pics

Lore dump ahead letsgo

One and Usagi's height difference is sort of funky. If you've seen my (Teaa's) Usagi drawings you may notice I draw him standing on his toes (that's the best way I can describe it, kinda like the shape of a dog's back legs) even though he stands on his feet like a human in the show. I think both are good, since I wanted him to have the same sort of spring in his step that rabbits do. So Usagi technically has two heights: his full height, and normal/relaxed height. He usually stays on his toes when he's in combat so he can run faster, so all the time in the Battle Nexus. (behold conceptual sketches below)

A while ago we were discussing One an Usagi's heights and thought it would be funny if Usagi was taller and shorter than One. So normally, Usagi's a few inches shorter than One, but when his fight or flight response is activated or is otherwise on edge, he's suddenly a couple inches or so taller (measurements are not exact the math makes my brain hurt). It intimidates One all the time + is a great indicator to look out something is coming.

Also, I figure One doesn't stop growing when he reaches adulthood so he gets a lot taller than Usagi by the apocalypse. This was going to be because some turtles don't stop growing as they age, but apparently that does not apply to red eared sliders, so now it's just bc he's a genetically engineered mutant of war and Usagi is not <3

[littlemisspascal]

Rockford & Roan Pt. 5

Pairing: Tim Rockford x Female Reader/OFC ‘Roan’

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary:  There’s no escape. You’re prey in a spider’s web.

Rating: T. Heed the warnings y'all!

Warnings: Language, Reader has a dog, Reader has military background, Superpower AU, They Were Roommates AU, self-esteem issues, soulmates-ish, original characters, worldbuilding, references of dead bodies + suicide, police, trauma, ptsd flashback including non-con touching, fear

- Reader has no first name and no physical traits described in detail except for being shorter than Rockford. Reader is mentioned to have hair

Author Note: Thank you always for the kind support💗

Special thanks to @beecastle for beta reading and encouraging me 💜💜💜

Series Masterlist

The Body

The warehouse is bone-chilling. 

It’s your first observation when you follow Rockford inside, body temperature dropping as the frozen air slices through your jacket like the blade of a knife. The windows are all busted, jagged shards of glass litter the grimy concrete floor beneath your feet. Various metallic beams covered in rust criss-cross overhead. It’s a hauntingly eerie place, even with the multitude of policemen and CSIs meandering about.

And there, in the center of it all, a woman lies dead wearing a bright yellow duffle coat and matching yellow rain boots.

You inhale a sharp breath upon seeing her. Banjo whines softly, laying down with his head on his paws, and your hand fidgets with the urge to pet him, empathy twinging in response to his fear. 

“Victim is Carmin Carrillo, thirty-eight years old from Toven with a gift of claw extension according to her driver license,” Inspector Dorrance informs you and Rockford, his voice a low rumble as he recites information from his pocket notebook. “We’re in the process now of determining contact details. Couple of kids screwing around found her, but it doesn't look like she’s been here long. Suicide by cyanide ingestion, just like the others.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Rockford mutters under his breath, snapping on a spare pair of latex gloves Dorrance provides.

Your match wastes no time in striding forward to carefully analyze the body, staring down for a long beat at her hands stained scarlet with blood. He moves onto her coat next without saying a word, crouching down and running a gloved hand over the yellow material, flexing his fingers afterwards almost clinically. An umbrella is pulled out from the coat pocket, scrutinized by his brown eyes as if it were an explosive device. He actually reminds you a bit of bomb-sniffer dogs at airports and train stations, unflinchingly calm and dedicated to their task at hand.

Unlike the canines who usually sit upon making a discovery though, Rockford stands to full height and swivels around. “Miss Roan, what do you feel?”

“From who?” you ask with a quick, confused look over at Dorrance. The inspector merely crosses his arms over his chest with a quiet sigh, radiating something akin to resignation.

“Our victim here,” Rockford says.

Your eyebrows lift so high up your forehead you’re surprised they don’t fly off. What Rockford’s suggesting—feeling the emotions of the dead—is a delicate process involving empathic echoes. Emotional imprints left behind in the wake of traumatic events which empaths can tap into and experience for themselves. During your service, you’d been instructed to focus your mind-gift on the living souls rather than the deceased, but that didn’t stop the echoes from setting off a series of ominous clicks in your eardrums like a Geiger counter when you brushed too close.

“If it’ll solve this case faster, go ahead,” Dorrance says, noticing your hesitation. He eyes Banjo, a note of firmness slipping into his tone when he adds, “But the pup stays back.”

You glance over at Rockford, finding him rapidly scrolling on his phone, oblivious beyond the screen. “O-okay,” you reply, and hand over Banjo’s leash in exchange for your own pair of latex gloves.

The concrete is cold under your knees as you kneel beside the body. Carmin’s lying on her left side with her eyes closed, raven locks framing her head, long and frizzy. She could almost be mistaken for sleeping, if not for her unnatural stillness and the dry blood coating her hands. 

Dorrance had mentioned the victim left behind a note. What he’d failed to say was that she’d cut the message into her own palm with her fingernails—no, with her claws.

Naranja.

The Spanish word for orange. You mouth it to yourself, baffled. Was it a side effect of the cyanide resulting in the self-mutilation or is there another, more meaningful reason for its existence? It’s gruesome either way.

Rockford’s leather shoes shuffle out of the corner of your eye, reminding you of the task at hand. Empathic echo. Right. Your match is counting on you to be helpful. You mustn’t let him down.

You stretch out your empathy, the emotions of those in the room overlapping and ricocheting off of one another like rain pattering on a metal roof, but they aren’t what you’re searching for. Focus. You sidestep them, feeling your mind-gift sharpen, scraping along the walls, the floors, no corner left unchecked. Focus.

A distinct clicking sound sends a little spark down your spine, growing in frequency as your empathy zeroes in further, and you have no idea what you’re engaging with, but it’s–

The change from individual clicks to a shrill whine is explosive, silencing all other sounds, vision whiting out as if a spotlight’s been aimed directly at your eyes.  

Fear starts pooling in your gut, slow at first, ignorable. But it keeps building, bubbling up your throat, wrapping around your heart. The desire to scream burns worse than acid. Can’t. Your mouth is sewn shut. Muscles paralyzed. Everything’s on fire. There’s no escape. You’re prey in a spider’s web. 

Trapped. Poisoned. Dying.

You hear it then. Somewhere as close as it is far away, muffled and distorted by time—the quiet hiss of laughter. 

Shuddering, it reminds you of—

Oh, dear God no.

“Miss Roan?”

Hands tear at your clothes, grimy fingers grazing skin as a heavy weight pins you to the ground. Acrid breath floods your nostrils. And lust, so much vile, thirsting lust it sours your stomach, gagging at the deluge. Get off, you think hysterically, get off get off get off.

“Miss Roan!”

You blink, sucking in a shaky lungful of air. You’re in the warehouse still, on the floor, but you’d been moved away from Carmin several feet. How long were you ensnared by the echo? By the…rest of it? You blink again, struggling to focus. Rockford’s crouched in front of you, brown eyes full of concern. 

“It’s alright, Roan. You’re okay.”

His hand squeezes your shoulder, and it grounds you back in reality the same way an asteroid crashes to the earth, sudden and violent. Uncaring of the destruction upon impact.

You flinch, and there’s a collective groan from the entire room’s occupants as they press their hands to their heads, teeth gritting and eyes scrunching. Even Banjo’s afflicted, pawing helplessly at his ears. 

It’s your fault they’re in pain. Empathy taking root in their minds, holding them hostage, applying pressure until it hurts. You force yourself to take another breath, trying to reign it in, box it up, but it’s not–it won’t–fuck, what the hell is wrong with you?

“Kez.” Rockford’s gaze remains steadily locked with yours, expressing nothing, an impenetrable mask, though his voice is a little rougher than normal. “Take her outside.”

“Tim,” Dorrance starts.

“Now, Keziah,” Rockford cuts him off, not quite snapping but close enough.

Too rattled to speak, you feel like you’re watching yourself be pulled clumsily onto your feet by Rockford and passed over to Dorrance. The inspector holds onto Banjo’s leash in one hand and your bicep in the other, leading you both towards the rear exit of the warehouse, away from the lights and cameras still swarming at the front.

Even while functioning on autopilot, it’s hard to ignore the stares of the CSIs, their silent judgment palpable even without your triggered mind-gift achingly aware of their distrustfulness like individual bug bites. It’s even harder to ignore how Rockford’s emotions have never felt so distant from your reach before, guarded and indecipherable. A door once freely open now barred shut.

And it’s funny, you think, how someone who’s the most important person in your life can so suddenly change into an unrecognizable stranger in a mere matter of minutes. As if you never really knew them at all.

My fault. I caused this.

It’s all so fucking hysterical.

The Discussion

Inspector Dorrance guides you to a bench outside, releasing his hold once you sink down heavily. Banjo hops up on the seat next to you, snuffling at your jacket sleeve before curling closer, and the man seems to realize the dog is trained enough to remain put, letting go of the leash so it hangs limply next to your leg.

You try again to wrestle control of your empathy, but it continues slipping free and bleeding out into the atmosphere, drawn to the laid-back stillness of Dorrance’s mood. Unshaken by your episode. Unbothered by your nearness.

Just…clockwork calm.

Maybe it’s due to his training that he keeps a cool head, or maybe the sucker he digs free from his inner suit pocket is infused with some kind of mood-numbing ingredient. Either way, after unwrapping the candy, you barely catch a glimpse of its bright green coloring before it’s shoved into his mouth, rolled around on his tongue.

Dorrance looks over across the wharf, out at the docked boats and to the nightly horizon beyond. You follow his gaze, absently stroking a hand over Banjo’s ears, the mutt’s affection a low hum taking some of the sting out of your mind-gift, and there’s a moment where the whole world feels hushed.

The moon hangs above the sea, cascading streaks of silver light upon the waves. Shining brightly even in the darkest of hours. A rebel against the encroaching, ravenous shadows.

“I used to smoke like a damn chimney. My boyfriend hated it,” Dorrance says, out of nowhere. He holds the sucker’s stick between his fingertips, gesticulating as he talks. “It was Tim’s idea, substituting candy for cigarettes. Loathed the suggestion at first, thought he was taking the piss out of me, but now…” He shrugs, wedges the sucker back into the corner of his scarred mouth.

You stare at him, the details of his face highlighted by the moon. Standing out as a beacon in the void. He shouldn’t be here–there’s a dead body literally right behind you, far more important than your pathetic issues–but he shows no signs of impatience, outward or internal. No blame either, but its absence doesn’t loosen the weight on your chest. Doesn’t mean you didn’t royally fuck everything up.

Banjo presses impossibly closer, wet nose against your wrist disrupting your spiraling thoughts. 

“Tim Rockford is a very perceptive man, Miss Roan,” Dorrance says, blunt and to the point now. Your eyes snap back to him, subconsciously sitting up straighter in response to the tone shift. “But even he has his blind spots. Things—and people—he takes for granted, expecting them to do whatever he wants them to regardless of the consequences. Especially when there’s a case to be solved. Do yourself a favor and don't let yourself become one. Talk to him, alright?”

When Rockford had said–

You belong anywhere I am.

We’re stuck with each other.

–he’d meant every word. 

At the time, at least. Before your lapse of self-control proved your empathy can’t be trusted under pressure, not even with your match within close reach. You used to face down enemies bigger than mountains, teeth bared and blood under your fingernails. You used to be fearless. 

You’re not that person anymore. And you’re not who Rockford deserves as his match either.

You need to be better. You have to be.

“...Alright,” you repeat quietly, thinking back to the icy certainty you’d felt back at the apartment. How you’d known there was another side of your match you’d never encountered before. And this is it, so it would seem, a side passionately dedicated to his work that shouldn’t have to be burdened with your mistakes and triggers. “I–I’m sorry for losing control the way I did. It shouldn’t’ve happened. It was unprofessional and–”

“At ease, soldier.” It should be irritating to hear, a reminder of a life you’re no longer living, but the words strike a chord deep within, shoulders reflexively dropping. “Headaches are common amongst the force, each of us trying to understand why people do the things they do.”

A burning sensation lingers in the back of your throat. Hand trembling even as it runs through Banjo’s fur. “She was scared. Carmin, I mean. Absolutely terrified during her final moments. And I swear…I know how this sounds, but I swear, inspector, I heard somebody laughing at her. She wasn’t alone.”

Dorrance’s eyes widen slightly at that, and you can feel the ticking of his mind speeding up, realization striking. “Fuck,” he breathes, half turning to glare back at the warehouse as if he could see through to the interior. His jaw clenches so harshly around the candy stick you’re surprised it doesn’t cut in half. “Fuck, Tim’s been right all along, hasn’t he? These suicides—somebody’s been pulling the strings. But how? Why?”

You don’t have the answers he wants. You’re not Rockford. Can’t produce calculations and explanations out of the tiniest of observations. The only thing you can do is offer Dorrance’s own advice back to the man.

“Talk to Rockford,” you say, because he’s the best chance of making sense out of any of this bloody mess. And together, Dorrance and him will get Carmin and the other victims the justice they deserve. “Tell him what I felt.”

Dorrance is silent for a moment, just watching your face, and to his credit he doesn’t ask why you don’t tell Rockford yourself, doesn’t dig his fingers into the proverbial wound you’re struggling to stitch back up. It hurts to wonder what you must look like in his eyes, fidgety and unstable. A far cry from the woman he met earlier. 

“I will,” he finally nods. “Take your time out here. Come in when you’re ready.”

And then he’s walking past you, turning his back on the moonlight and returning to the warehouse of metal and death. Not once does the steady tempo of his mind falter.

You’re not sure if you’re more comforted by his strict self-control or envious of it.

You’re not sure of much right now, actually.

The Woman

Time has a strange way of moving when you’re lost in your thoughts. Could be five minutes you sit there, could be forty. You don’t know, don’t care much either—it’s just you, the moon, and Banjo.

The little mutt nudges at your hand when it’s still too long, and then when that doesn’t achieve the ear-scratches he craves he goes one step further and stands with his two front paws on top of your thigh. He looks at you squarely in the eye. You stare back. 

“I was back there for a moment,” you tell him, a hollow, emptiness in your voice. “In camp during the raid when that man…when he tried to…” You take a slow, trembling breath, swallowing harshly against the lump in your throat. “Well, you don’t need to hear about that. We’ve all got our bad days, yeah? Just the way the cards are dealt.”

Banjo sneezes. Maybe that’s all it is, but part of you like to think he’s agreeing bad days are a total pain in the ass.

“Finding you was a good day though.” You boop him on the nose. “One of my very best.”

Banjo’s tail starts to wag, but then his ears perk, hearing something. He turns immediately, a low warning growl building in his chest. And that’s the thing about your scrappy dog—he’s a friendly, easily pleased ball of fur at his core. He doesn’t growl at anything or anyone unless there’s a damn good reason to.

And that’s when you feel it.

A shard of curiosity deliberately pricks your mind-gift, sparkling and bright. Attention-seeking. It doesn’t stem from the direction of the warehouse, but closer. Alarmingly so. 

You turn your head so fast your neck aches, squinting against the darkness. 

There, several feet in front of you, a woman stands on the concrete dropoff separating land from water. She waves when she catches your wide-eyed gaze, a cheeky gesture, curiosity morphing into satisfaction. A glimmering diamond which might have mesmerized your mind-gift if not for its sharp edges promising a painful cut. Whoever this stranger is, not only has she snuck up on the backside of a crime scene, she’s also been trained to fend off empaths.

Alarm bells ring loudly in your mind. You’re torn between shouting for backup–if anyone will even listen to you–and going down there and confronting her yourself. The woman stares you down, practically daring you to make a choice.

It’s Banjo who makes your decision for you. He leaps off the bench before you can even think of grabbing him or the leash. The second his paws connect with the ground he’s off like a rocket with his sight set on the woman, ignoring your cry of his name as you chase after him.

The distance to the dropoff is short, but with the amount of panic pumping through your nervous system it might as well be miles. You’ve got to catch Banjo, stop him before he causes harm. Growling is a rarity for him. Outright charging at somebody though? It’s as if he’s been possessed or replaced with an entirely different dog. 

You don’t think things can get any worse. 

The woman falls backwards over the edge into the water.

What the–

Banjo doesn’t stop, committed to his hunt, and jumps after her.

FUCK.

If your heartbeat wasn’t throbbing in your ears, maybe you would’ve heard the lack of splashing after their dives.

As it is, you make the leap, your little mutt dog the only thing on your mind. Your body instinctively braces for the cold water to hit, but it never comes. You just keep falling and falling, the colors of your vision warping into a blurry haze. 

Of course, you think, mentally kicking and cursing yourself for forgetting every lesson instilled in you during recruit training, including the most important one of all. Determine the enemy’s gift before engaging. Of fucking course she had to be a portal maker.

When reality finally settles again, you find yourself rolling across a wooden tile floor, stopping just before your head collides with the edge of a leather sofa. For a second you merely lie there, taking stock of your body, the aches from your limbs of being unceremoniously dropped out of the portal. 

A familiar bark has you sitting up in a rush. You spot the woman first, dark haired and stylishly dressed. She’s reclining comfortably in a plush chair next to a marble fireplace with a massive piece of artwork worthy of being displayed in the Louvre hanging above. You’re in someone’s house, you realize, another stone of dread dropping into your stomach. The woman smiles at you, perfectly pleasant, but her glittering amusement makes you grit your teeth in irritation. 

Banjo barks again, yanking your attention to the other half of the room where the largest book case you’ve ever seen takes up almost an entire wall. He isn’t growling anymore, but his hackles remain raised, tail held stiff. Once you notice the man crouched in front of Banjo, offering his hand for the dog to smell, you cannot believe what you’re seeing.

Because the man he…

Brown eyes lift over Banjo’s figure to lock with yours, a dimpled smile curling on a mouth outlined in dark, bristly hair.

The man has Rockford’s face. Identical to the very last detail.

“So, you’re the unfortunate soul who matched with my brother.” He stands to full height, dressed in formal wear with an untied floral robe swishing with every movement. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you face to face, Miss Roan. You and I have got quite a lot to talk about.”