#i slink back into recovery | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

notroosterbradshaw · 1 year ago

Text

slow dancing in a burning room - five.two

word count: 6.2k

warnings: nsfw 18+, smut, language, angst.

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

a/n: you made it! this chapter has been the hardest and most involved to write to date. I hope you enjoy it. thanks to those who read, reblogged and commented on previous chapters. you’re doing god’s work. I truly appreciate all the effort you make to show your support and if you like it... please comment and reblog it! x

five.one

“I love you,” he smiled against your lips as raised your hips to grind against his. “Fuck,” he breathed. “You feel amazing,” his hips moved so slowly but you kept his lips against yours in hopes if he was concentrating on your kiss, he would keep it measured, he could keep it safe.

You'd forgotten how deep his voice could be in moments just like this. And it was so difficult not to get lost with him. Intentions clear, you couldn't resist because you wanted him just as desperately.

"Tell me you need more, love," his tongue lapped at your pulse, his teeth sinking into your skin, the linger of your perfume spurring him on further and you lost your fingers into his unkempt curls, your thumbs padding the soft beard that was growing in on his jaw, denying him was futile.

"Yes..." you answered finally and could fell his smile as he moved to kiss you.

"Lemme show you what you've been missing," he crawled to his knees, his anxious fingers pressing against the flesh of your thighs, creeping to your waist and tenderly sinking under the soft cotton of your undies, dragging them down slowly. His lower lip pulled into his teeth as he failed to slick back his grin. “And you’re so… wet. Look at your glistening, love... Have you missed me too?" he pushed away his boxer briefs before lowering himself to cage his arms around you, his cock resting at your entrance and teasing himself with your slick heat.

And he kissed you, he kissed you so thoroughly you felt like a teenager again as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your nails gripping into the thick ropes of muscle, gagging to keep him in your space. He hummed, pleased, against your lips, his tongue soft and probing against yours.

"Let me feel you, love," he said, a hand slinking between your legs and he grinned as he padded at your clit, and you whispered a litany of curses, begging for his long fingers, unable to withstand writhing beneath him.

"Your cock..." you begged as he nodded, wrapping his palm around his dick, coating the head in your arousal, mixing with his pre-cum. “Let me ride you, sweetheart,” you told him breathlessly, but that nagging voice in your mind wanted to keep him safe, and protected, and not aggravate anything. “If you think that will be okay?”

Like the cat that got the cream, he smiled and without effort, rolled your body, eagerly guiding his cock in deep. He inhaled sharply, hoping to even out his breath as his head fell back against the soft pillows. "Ride away, love. I just don't know how I'll last so let’s get rid of this so I can see all of you..." he admitted, rolling his hips to hit that sweet, precious place inside and you tried in vain to bite back the illicit sounds that were escaping you as he whipped off your tee (an old Navy top that you had adopted as yours during own of his first sleepovers all those months ago). You felt feral under his gaze. You had denied him for so long and while you just wanted to do right for his recovery, even without his medical clearance, you were as pent up as he was.

You couldn't bite back the hiss as he held your waist and watched you move and roll like the waves above him.

“Look at you...” his palms reached up to tug the ends of your hair, and he traced down your shoulder, massaging your scorching skin. He traced its blemishes, committing your beautiful body to memory and how giddy it was only he who saw you like this.

One hand secured on your hip, and you ground above him, his other hand palming your breast, his thumb playing with your nipple, his gleaming teeth chewing his lower lip to blood... desperate not for this to be over before it began. "All mine," he reminded you with a growl. Maybe you weren't the only feral one...

It had been weeks since you'd been intimate. Since the night he left before -

Well frankly, before the night your lives turned on their heads.

You grasped his wrists, trusting him implicitly, forgetting all, his body proving it was under absolutely no duress and you couldn't hurt him tonight.

He knew your body like the lyrics of his favourite song, he was your keenest of student and always wanted to know what made you feel delirious. “You feel sooo goddamn good,” he drawled, the bliss in his rasp turning you on further - you were so drenched with desire for him, you'd missed how his powerful body could make you feel so fuckin' hot. “I’ve missed you, baby. Maybe holding back wasn’t such a bad idea…” he muttered incredulously, with a disbelieving huff as he raised his hips to meet yours. "Thatta girl, that's my beautiful girl."

You loved this man and were a team, even with all your faults, times just like reminded you just how perfect you fit together.

But there was no denying there were cracks in the foundations… and you both knew they couldn’t be fixed without more openness and honesty on both behalves. It scared you because you knew there was so much he was holding back from you and even though you were connected physically, you weren’t sure you’d ever felt so confused or distant from him.

You knew all the fear you were hiding from him too. In a few weeks, he'd be back at work. Even at his desk, but the gym was beckoning, his head was in the clouds, dreaming of when he could get back in the air.

And that terrified you most. Because if there was one thing that scared you above all else... it was the chance of losing him for good. Of never seeing him again. And knowing he was truly happiest when he was putting his body through the wringer with sustained force, speed and agility.

You didn't have that in you. It wasn't something you could pretend you were okay with anymore. You never thought you'd be scared for him. But he told you a million times he was safer in the air than he was with two feet planted on the ground.

But how was that true, when he came home to you batted, black and blue? He could have died!

Relinquishing a palm, he brought his long index and middle fingers to your mouth, groaning without abandon as you sucked without question, and he imagined your mouth wrapped around his cock, one of your immaculate specialities. How you could almost take every inch deep - “Get 'em nice and wet for me,” he instructed, as you did as you were told. With a pop, he took away his hand and tenderly opened you up to him, your slick and spit mixing against your thrumming clit. Desperate for friction… desperate to cum.

Every part of your body quaked from the tips of your toes to the ends of your hair. You couldn’t withhold the noises that seemed to be coming from the innermost primal part of you. The weight on your body was greedily welcomed and needed as your orgasm continued powering through you only to match the ferocity of the man under you, his dreamlike features gleaming in a fine sheen of sweat as his body pummelled into you.

But the way you came, the tremors of your body shuddering against his as he cursed, driving his hips rough into yours and he came undone, your pussy milking his pulsating cock was all you needed at that moment. He tried in vain to drag your orgasm out, wanting to take every ounce from you as he held back moan and fucking the last of his spend in you.

He held you tight, reaching to kiss your brow as you lowered your body down on his, burying your face in his chest. His breathing laboured, body sated and he kissed you so gently he was scared you'd break. "I love you," he whispered against your lips, his breath hot across your face.

"I love you, Bradley. I love you so much," you told him as he wrapped you against him tight, still buried deep. He wasn't in a rush to pull out and you weren't in a rush to make him.

"I know, love. I know..."

It was the best you had been together in the weeks since Bradley had returned home. He was fit, happy, and on your lunch break home for a quiet bite, he’d wrangled afternoon delight twice this week, and he honestly couldn’t be prouder of himself. Things were looking up for both of you. You’d confided to him you had been considering moving to the next step of your business, you wanted to add to the facilities. Maybe an infrared sauna, maybe put in a little cafe' arrangement which could mean more staff as well.

It was small but things cost money and you were a swim teacher by trade, it didn’t leave you bathing in gold by any stretch of the imagination. You wouldn’t claim in the slightest to know about loans, equipment purchases and the like, but you were keen to learn. You knew it would be a question of cash and possibly looking to get buy-in from a partner, but you had ideas, and Bradley was only too keen to hear them.

Bradley had been so encouraging for you to expand. He was so happy for you and knew how well you could bring this idea to life. He mentioned adding a studio to the big back room that was just taking up old, mouldy pool stuff that really needed to be disposed of. “Do up the floors, don’t quote me on this as I say it because I’m probably saying it wrong, but a barre?” he frowned. “You could get all the rosé-drinking moms in for a song. Or maybe just put in a bar and let the wasps get liquored up while their kids learn to swim?”

Standing in the midst of moving boxes, everything was so close now. Tomorrow, the removalists were going to come and pack up your little apartment for you to start your lives together in that old Bradshaw place. The apartment was a bit of a disaster and Bradley's need for neat starting to grate him a little. You'd dragged your feet a little, for a small apartment, and you had a lot of stuff, you protested - nik naks from travelling that you weren't quite ready to relinquish just yet but you'd be pushed tomorrow, whether either of you liked it or not.

Your laughter was interrupted by Bradley’s phone ringing. “That sounds incredibly unsafe, but I don’t hate it…” you admitted from behind your Mac. Pintrest was far more exciting than boxing up your shit, that was for sure! He winked and said it was work, he’d take it in the other room.

Grunting, before straightening and answering, “Cyclone, sir,” he said, meandering into the bedroom and closing the door after him. You were always a little turned on when he was suddenly Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw. Your goofy man had some distinctive personalities but that one you like... a lot.

With another slight setback with his recovery, while his body felt fine, CT scans still showed some minor trauma that doctors were concerned about but were monitoring but happy for him to head back for some solid desk duty. Not as exciting for Bradley, he hated paperwork as it was but he'd take what he could get.

“Love, can we talk for a moment?” Bradley asked, reappearing a while later. You had closed your Mac and were packing some books into one of the many, many-made boxes Bradley had put together with the greatest of ease.

“’Course,” you said and grinned. “Please distract me from packing any way you see fit,” you tossed a book without thought into the box you were concentrating on with a thud and wriggled your brows, hopefully, he’d take the subtle hint. You felt kind of insatiable and Bradley would never knock you back. He gave a weak chuckle and he sat next to you, taking your hand and not meeting your eyes.

“My leave was extended.”

You frowned and also kind of smiled, the confusion evident all over your face. “But you just got medical clearance to return to desk duties next week...”

“Yeah, that was the initial plan,” he nodded, a grim look shrouding his handsome features.

“Bradley,” it was a statement, not a question. “What’s going on?”

He looked at you, and for the first time in weeks, his face was open. “I’m being stood down.”

“What, why?” you sat up as he slumped a little. You watched him rub his jaw, a trait of when he was nervous. You’d seen it a lot lately.

“Technically, I'll be on disciplinary leave with pay. I need to sit before a panel of superiors to determine if I… fuck, I can’t believe I’m actually saying this,” he told you and chewed his lower lip. He inhaled sharply and you could see the confusion masking his features.

“Bradley.”

He looked up and prepared to tell you the whole story, knowing it could well hurt his career further… but his relationship more. “I haven’t told you the whole story of what happened.”

“No,” you agreed, he certainly had gone out of his way to deflect any time he could when it came to his unceremonious return. “You’ve been pretty good at leaving out the little details…”

“Problem is some details aren’t little. I need to tell you everything so you understand," he said softly.

“More than ‘uranium suicide mission’?” you asked him, timidly. "Because yeah. That was a bit fucking terrifying."

He nodded, swallowing hard. “Yes, baby,” he acknowledged, knowing the worst was to come. “All of this wasn’t from just a carrier crash. The injuries, I mean. There were landing gear issues, but not from my jet. I was shot down after I left the squad to go back for Mav. I disobeyed direct orders multiple times, including from Mav himself.”

You remained silent. This was absolutely nothing like you were expecting. "I don't get it."

He said your name stone cold sober. “I knew what I was doing when I went back to help Mav. I ran outta flares in the dogfight – ”

“Dogfight, what?” you shook your head, disbelief washing over you. He’d seen real action? “Bradley, can you please start from the beginning? None of this is making sense …”

He nodded solemnly. “Love, we had two minutes and 30 seconds to make it to target and destroy the facility. Low, we had to avoid SAMs. But I was in my head the whole time, I was letting the team down. I was thinking about how dad died, that I probably wasn’t coming back to you…” he raised his eyes. “I froze. I'm probably lucky I didn't get me, or Payback and Fanboy, blown outta the sky in those first moments because I was so distracted from the job.”

He let go of your hand to brush his longer waves through his sweaty palm, but you remained quiet, dumbstruck, words were no longer on your tongue.

“I snapped the fuck out of it, just trying to remember that I would come back to you at any cost. And when Maverick made the first drop on target, it was incredible. But Fanboy had a laser malfunction, so I had to go and thank fuckin’ Christ I made that shot because if you asked me to do it ever again? I know there is no way I’d ever be able to.”

“I don’t feel like I’m in my body right now…” you said, stone-cold sober, your heart was racing – or maybe your heart had slowed. You weren’t sure. “I can’t believe you’re telling me this.”

“I know, love and I should never have kept this from you.”

“But you’re not done…”

He shook his head. “Nope. 9.5G climb out of the canyons, we had to try and avoid G-lock, slamming into mountains and SAMs again.”

“This sounds like something you see in a movie, not something you’ve been through, Bradley. God, I wish I didn't understand any of this," the tears welling in your eyes telling him the story.

“There ain’t no budget for this, love. Enemy jets were scrambled and – ”

“It was a dogfight,” you whispered.

“It was a dogfight. I did all I could, and then I was outta flares. Mav put himself between my plane and the enemy… and he was shot down. I made a judgement call and went to find him. I went back to look for Mav. That’s about the only thing I can’t explain. My brain couldn’t compute what would happen."

You laughed incredulously. “Bradley, it wasn’t like you were going to just be able to land your plane, pick little Mav up and sit him on your lap to bring him back to the boat,” you laughed even louder. The story was so ridiclous in your mind, but when he remained sober, you stopped laughing. “What?”

"You’re right, I couldn’t land my jet, pick Mav up and just head back to the boat…” he swallowed. “In a way, I suppose I knew I was probably going to die that day. The rest is so strange, I can’t get my brain to...” he added softly. “I can’t process it.”

"Tell me everything," he heard the gentle demand in your voice and what could he do?

He nodded. “Dropping blind, target achieved, sustained G’s. Smoke in the air, I was defending as best I could. SAMs on my six. It was fuckin’ chaos. I ran out of flares and Dagger One – Mav – was hit. I was ordered not to engage. I was requested back to the carrier by Command… Phoenix, Bob screaming at me. And I still went back. I defied direct orders and flew further back into enemy territory to find Mav.

“He was in the middle of God-knows-where. A snow-covered forest. I shot down a chopper to try and save him… and my plane was hit by a SAM as a result,” And he was quiet for a moment as you watched the grief that shrouded his face and while it devastated you… it only made you feel empty and confused. “I knew what I was doing – going back for Mav – he’s my family."

“You found Mav behind enemy lines,” you mumbled. You were numb.

“Yes.”

He watched as you wiped away the tears that he caused, and another kind of devastation washed over him. “Then what?”

“Mav found me. He berated the fuck out of me for coming back for him. I wish I could say I was making it up, what happened next... We found an F-14 in a hangar, and I guess all the gods were on our side, because how that piece of shit could take off on a crated runway, even with Mav piloting, still keeps me up at night.”

He watched as your tired face tried to take in his words. He moved to crouch before you, his strong palms wrapping around your calves. Your eyes followed him, but they didn’t appear to see him. “This is the most bullshit I’ve ever heard. I’ve never heard a story go to such ridiculous lengths,” you bubbled up a laugh as he remained stoic.

Stoic but maybe hurt. “I’ve never been so scared in my life,” he confided quietly. “I honestly don’t know how I’m sitting here with you right now,” he said, his eyes welling. “I’ve never seen action like that in my entire time in the Navy. Mav said since he hadn’t either. These enemy jets, fifth-gen, they’re just unlike anything anyone has seen – ”

“So, the official story of you, singular, crashing onto the carrier was just some bullshit to get me to go to sleep each night?” you asked, voice flat. He nodded, numbly. “You crashed the F-14, with you as Mav’s passenger.”

“Yes.”

“You lied.”

“I lied because I had to. To protect you.”

The way you raised your eyes to him told him that it may have protected him before, but it sure as hell wasn’t going to protect him now. “You need to tell me everything. I don’t give a flying fuck if the CIA has this place bugged, but if you don’t start being honest with me… we have a real problem on our hands.”

“I will tell you everything, love and I’m sorry that I didn’t do it sooner… I just – I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“You left every piece of the puzzle out that made the difference. I thought your jet had a fucking landing gear failure! But now it all makes perfect sense…” your words stung to say aloud as you pushed his scalding palms off your skin.

“It’s not like that – ”

“It’s exactly like that,” you moved to stand, you needed to get away from him and he stood too.

He said your name. “Please.”

“Please what?” you sniped. “Please get my head around this immediately to make you feel better about thinking you’re protecting me? Do you not know who you’re talking to? This is my blood too, Bradley. I get how this bullshit works – trust me, I wish I didn’t… but I get it.”

“I know you do and that’s why I couldn’t tell you,” he said evenly. “I feel terrible that I’ve kept this from you.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry you feel bad that you had to keep this from me and it ended up hurting you," you voice was laced in childish sarcasm

He remained silent as you clipped him harshly. But you were just tired. Wholeheartedly could lay in your bed and sleep for a year and it wouldn't make you feel any less exhausted.

You took in the boxes around you, your small little apartment ready to be moved tomorrow into the big Bradshaw house and it dawned on you that you were nowhere near finished. There were mere hours left and you silently stood to start taking the photos off your wall. Finding the bubble wrap as your mute boyfriend watched.

Not a word was said but he sighed and started to help you.

"Just be careful with the photos, they mean something to me," you muttered as he nodded gently.

"I'll be gentle," he promised, reaching for the photo of you and his mother first. It meant the most to him, it was probably the most special photo he'd seen that didn't belong to him. He'd already earmarked a place in the bedroom where it would reside... right on his bedside table. He couldn't lob it in with the other frames and silently walked it to his keys and sunglasses. He'd take it with him personally. "Do you want some water or something?"

"No."

"Okay," he said softly. He didn't really want anything either and continued to help you considerately take the photos from the wall and wrap them, the box marked FRAMES in his scrawl in loud red marker.

Bradley had walked out about half an hour earlier. You couldn't blame him; the apartment was a war zone and he had enough PTSD for the both of you. It was a fight, destruction was all around you and you still had so much to say, but the fate of tomorrow wearing you down as you struggled to pack.

"I'm back," he said a while later, quiet and lethargic. And you'd normally ask what he'd been up to, but you just couldn't be bothered; and honestly, you simply didn't care. Your brain was working overtime, his confession had...

It had rattled you. It had destroyed you. You felt betrayed, alone, and lied to was the tip of the iceberg.

"I got some food," he sighed at your lack of reply, stepping into the kitchen and carefully taking the spoons from your palms and putting them on the bench. "Have some food, huh?" he offered, taking a seat beside you on the floor and pressing a kiss into your temple. You allowed it but showed absolutely no reciprocation.

And it hurt his heart because he knew what was happening here. He was witnessing you shut down before his eyes and it was terrifying.

"Do you want some pad thai?" he asked through the blood pumping through his ears. You barely shook your head, just stared before you. "I know I hurt you."

"Nope, I don't think you know how you've hurt me."

"I lied to you," he said simply.

"For weeks I've walked around on eggshells around you while you battled with whatever was going on in your head," you said so evenly it unnerved him. "The crash, Mav, not letting me be there for you. I feel like a no-one to you."

Dropping the container in his hand, Bradley moved to his knees and grasped your jaw softly in his rough palms. "You are everything, love."

"Bradley..."

"Love?"

You raised your eyes to him. "If you weren't going to trial, would you have told me any of this?" It was all you really needed to know and from his place before you in the cramped, messy kitchen, he dropped his gaze.

"Probably not, no."

It stung. It stung horribly. "Okay," was all you could say.

"I would have kept up the lie to protect you and I'd probably do it again if I needed to."

"You know my deal breakers since day one, Bradley," you were so small. You were so hurt.

He nodded, sitting back down on his heels. He didn't feel much like eating now either. He watched you put your head in your hands and God if you were crying, he would hate himself more than he already did.

So Bradley did all that felt right. He continued packing around you. He didn't know what else to give you at that moment. And he was sure as shit that if he laid a hand on you... you'd probably push him away further.

"I'm so angry at you," you said a little while later. Bradley had taken up a spot in the living room, collecting various ornaments and items and he could be the first to admit he was relieved to hear your voice for the first time in hours.

"I know, love. I'm angry at me too," he admitted, sitting on the armrest of the couch. Both were equally spent, it was like you'd gone 12 rounds and there was clearly no winner. “We’re not doing so well, kid."

"We're in a bad spot," it was the first time you'd agreed the whole night.

"What do you need for me to make this right?" he asked low.

"I dunno," you told him. "I never thought I could feel like this."

And what was worst for Bradley was that it was because of him.

You rubbed your face, you were so tired and struggling between the boxes in the kitchen - the place where you spent most of your time together. And you cursed the amount of shit you'd collated over the years to move into what Bradley probably had one of as well and threw a pot back in the cupboard with a crash. You'd been in relative silence since

“You chose Mav over us, Bradley. And it almost killed you,” the evenness in your voice, not the slightest waiver of emotion, scared you. The anger that was bubbling under the surface was all that was driving you and that scared you more.

He remained silent.

“You made me one promise, Rooster,” you reminded him and Jesus if he hated when you called him that. He was your Bradley. The way you had disconnected from him so quickly was frightening.

“I know, I don’t need reminding, from you, Mav, or the fucking Navy that I did the wrong thing,” Bradley muttered. “I saved his life.” But he said it was only him who needed convincing.

“You almost killed yourself in the process.”

Silence again. That pit that Bradley could have always done better was pulsating in your brain and it was clouding everything else.

“You don’t love me,” you accused quietly. “You were going to leave me. Willingly die for Mav.”

The way Bradley's face contorted as he bit back the venom on his tongue. He'd never felt so insulted. You could have said anything else to him, but questioning how he felt for you just seemed to go beyond the line. Especially when he'd never given you a reason to ever question his devotion to you.

“All I fucking thought about was you,” he hissed your name repeatedly until you met his gaze. “Don’t you get it? I know I fucked up. I know you’re betrayed and hurt. But I know if it was me, Mav would have done the same thing.”

“Of course, he’s got 20 years of grief to amend for,” you replied, sourly though pointed. "I'd expect it from him."

God, your whip of the tongue never seemed to amaze him. “Don’t you dare say another word,” Bradley told you in a tone you’d never heard of but froze you to your bones. He needed to shut you up.

He silenced you, and you were relieved, you finally got it all out. Said what had been on your chest since he told you what really happened in the air that day.

“You love doing that, being everyone’s saviour. Mine, Mav’s and anyone else that comes along.”

“Watch yourself.”

“You just can't help yourself.”

He was so close to exploding. “Yeah, and I fucking would do it all again,” Bradley almost yelled, his blood pressure rising. “Don’t you get it? This isn’t about you and me. You’ll never understand the history Mav and I have.”

“Well, no, I only know what you tell me and all of that seemed pretty fucking horrible. How else did you want me to react? This was your narrative, I just stupidly believed it.”

He crossed the maze of boxes steadfast and pulled you into his arms before you had another chance to recoil. “I love you, please understand that. I want to be with you,” he whispered in your ear.

"And?" you said, cold as ice.

“Please tell me you still love me," he said and you almost felt sorry for him. You looked up at him, his eyes telling the story. The fear of what he’d been through, what you were going through together, and what that could mean…

“That’s the problem. I think I love you too much.”

“That will never be a problem for me,” he confided. “Ever.”

“Maybe not... but I gotta love me too, Bradley.”

He kissed your hair. “Love…” he raised your eyes to his, kissing you. “I know you’re protecting yourself because you’re scared – ”

“I’m scared that you almost died, and it can happen every time you leave me. Not just deployments, every single time you get into your jet. I’ve never lost anyone the way you did… but I almost did and worse, because it was you. And that’s fucking terrifying.”

“I know, baby. But I’m here,” he tried to protest.

“You were reckless."

"I know - "

"I can’t trust you, Bradley."

He kissed you again, so softly. “Please do not question my loyalty. It’s the only thing I know for sure.”

You waited a bit but your final stand was so close. “Well, you got a father figure back out of it at least even if it was at my expense.”

Bradley only made a sound. The shock was palpable.

“Well, you don’t think this is a deal breaker for me?”

“What are you talking about, who are you? Do I even know you?”

“I am never going to be jealous of the Navy, it has pretty much destroyed any trust I have in men… and giving you a chance was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done,” you accused yourself, more so him. It was all coming so full circle and you knew Bradley was seeing the writing on the wall.

“You’re the dirtiest fucking fighter I’ve ever met,” he said quietly.

“No one else is going to protect me, Bradley, so I have to.”

“No, you want to be left at arm’s length and pick and choose when you want to be loved.”

“I’ve never been desperate for it.”

“No,” He agreed. “Definitely not,” he sniped. “Only when you choose.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you rolled your eyes.

"What? You can go below the belt, but am I just to stand here and take it? You're full of shit, baby. I ain't taking this without a fight."

"I don't have any fight left. I've been fighting with myself since you got home. Trying to figure out how to be all you need and want and it hasn't been enough. You've gone through a trauma that you wouldn't share with me and expected me to just be okay with it all as you pushed me away, and used me as you felt fair to you? And that I'd be fine because your job called you out on it and the truth had to come out sometime?"

"Please - " Bradley begged. “Don’t do this. Don't talk like this, love…”

“I’m going to take some time and see if this is really what is best for us… for me. I can't move in tomorrow. I'm sorry."

Standing and trying not to wince, he asked, “Who says you get the fucking choice?”

“You know why I do. You need me more than I’ll ever need you.”

He laughed incredulously, whipping his hand through his mussed curls. “That is the biggest pile of bullshit I’ve ever heard. I took care of myself just fine since everyone left me. In fact, you’re right, I was doing a fuckload better without you. Maybe I don’t need you.”

“But you do. And you’re getting angry because of how true that is.”

“You’re a real piece of work, huh?” he sniped, going to the liquor shelf and pouring himself a glass that he tossed back in a couple of gulps.

“Don’t do that, it’ll mess up your pain meds,” you warned.

“You don’t get a say on how badly I continue to fuck up my life, okay? Not tonight," he casually reminded you. "You've lost that privilege."

“I can’t bear to see you get hurt, why don’t you understand that?”

“All over it,” he muttered, pouring a second glass. “You’re articulating yourself incredibly well,” he enunciated. "You should be very proud of yourself."

“Bradley, please – ”

“Don’t fucking tell me what you think is best for me,” he hissed as you raised your hands, taking a step back. “You want to break us like that,” he snapped his fingers and slammed the thick-bottomed tumbler on the bench. “Not me. I came back, just like I always promised I would. I’m standing here before you, watching while you destroy us. Because you cannot be satisfied. Nothing makes you happy; it’s why you run. It’s no big secret.”

“Bradley, please.”

“Bradley, please, what?” he fired back incredulously. “I love you, I don’t want to break up. But I’ve learned more about you and how your fight tonight than I ever thought possible. If you don’t want to be with me, say it, so I can just go,” he added the last part sadly.

“I am scared I’m going to lose you anyway,” you said admitted.

“Well, you’ve pushed me so far away from you, I dunno what else you want now. You can’t go back on a lot that you’ve said.”

You nodded solemnly. He was right.

“And you certainly can’t take it back,” he said finally.

You met his eyes, and his rejection was palpable. But you didn’t want to take it back. “I’m sorry I can’t be what you need.”

He sighed, rubbing his tired, his oh so tired eyes. The problem was… you were everything he needed and it still wasn’t enough. “Is there any way we can get past this?” he asked finally, and you met his eyes.

“I don’t know,” and when you sighed. He knew. You both knew.

There wasn’t. Everything was irrevocably broken and to get back to a place you were side-by-side? Neither of you could see it.

"Okay," Bradley said in finality because honestly, he had nothing else to say and no one else would understand what a car crash tonight had turned into as he grabbed his car keys. The silence had swallowed you both and there was no coming back from it. “Well, I guess I’m gonna take off,” Bradley said, the words so strange on his lips and you nodded because what else was there now?

The box of Bradley's stuff you’d boxed up was gone about a week later with his apartment key was left in its place on the bench. It all seemed so final; you couldn’t believe how you’d let something so good slip away from you but you’d both broken your promises. You’d both seen to the end of this beautiful thing. You both deserved so much better… and maybe it was with someone else.

masterlist.

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

And the biggest thank you for @gretagerwigsmuse for taking the time to read, review and be the most best constructive friend assisting with this chap x

#notroosterbradshaw #rooster #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster fanfic #rooster imagine #rooster top gun #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster fluff #rooster smut #top gun rooster #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradsaw x reader

242 notes · View notes

brandyllyn · 6 months ago

Text

Silk from their soul (13)

The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Rated: T Words: 1.7k Summary: Daisy, Daisy

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

Sunlight wakes you up.

Your Cowboy isn’t nearby and he definitely didn’t wake you up for your watch. You stretch, noting the bandage wrapped around your arm. You can’t even imagine how tired you must have been to sleep through him removing the needle.

Then again, yesterday had been quite the day.

There’s a bottle next to you, filled with distinctive red and yellow pills. You swallow one down, figuring the lingering effects of the Rad-Away will stack well enough with the Rad-X. No sense in not being careful, and their presence is signal enough that your Cowboy has his mind on some things.

Good, so did you.

The fire is out and you slowly sit up, digging in your pack for breakfast. You’re halfway through a ration bar when he strides back in, all confidence and cocksure grin.

“Looks like we might make the foothills today if we hustle.”

You nod, swinging the pack on and climbing to your feet, mouth half full of dry oats. The sudden movement makes you wince and you try to shift your weight as inconspicuously as possible.

He notices, of course.

“You hurt?”

“Sore,” you mumble, trying not to meet his eye.

“Sore? From wha-?” He seems to suddenly realize and that cocksure grin of his gets even wider, if that’s possible. “Well now, can’t say there’s much I can do about that.”

“Well, I’m going to need some recovery time,” you tell him primly, trying to hide your smile when he laughs.

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he catches your hand and presses a kiss to your fingers, slipping one into his mouth briefly before letting you slide away, “plenty of other trouble we can get up to.”

Was it hot in here? You were suddenly sweating.

Thankfully - for your journey more than your sanity - he sets off for the day after that exchange, pace steady and sure. The ground is mostly dirt and you walk side by side down what’s left of an old road.

“Can I ask you a question?”

He glances your way from under the brim of his hat. “S’pose that depends on the question.”

“What do you do?” He blinks at you and you rephrase, “I mean, you’re obviously pretty good with a gun, you’re… what you are. I’m just wondering - what do you do? To earn caps? To pass the time.”

“Oh,” he turns from you to scan the horizon, drawing the word out, “bit of this, bit of that.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Never said I would.”

You huff, picking your way around some rubble. “Gigolo?”

It gives you a little too much satisfaction to see him stumble, head turned back to look incredulously at you. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’d be good at it,” you say blandly as you pass him. You don’t get far, his hand catching on the back of your skirt and pulling you back into his chest.

“They do say if you’re good at something, never do it for free.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have any caps on me,” you sigh theatrically, reaching back to slink a hand behind his neck, “do you take any other forms of payment?”

He bites you in retaliation, his tongue quickly soothing the flesh. You should be more concerned, you know that. He’s necrotic and by all accounts has been for a long time. The chance he’s eaten a person were pretty high - although you can hope they weren’t alive at the time and deserved it a little.

“I think we can make some arrangements,” he drawls into your ear and you giggle, twisting away from him. There’s a group of abandoned buildings ahead of you and you dart towards them, listening for his footfalls behind you. He’s quick to follow, a gruff laugh escaping him as he gives chase.

You turn to skip backwards, grinning at him. “C’mon, you can do better than that.”

He bares his teeth at you and starts to say something when his eyes dart over your shoulder and suddenly he’s next to you, pushing you behind him.

“Well howdy fellas, something we can do for you?”

You turn and see them - four men, each with guns, standing in the road ahead. There’s another on top of a building nearby.

“We’re after the girl.”

“Well I’m thinking you might have to find one of your own, this one here is mine.” He’s keeping himself between you and them and you have no problem letting him. He’ll heal up a heck of a lot quicker than you anyway.

“We ain’t lookin for trouble, ghoul. I imagine we’re all after the same thing.”

He cuts his eyes to you before turning back to them. “I thought you might say something stupid like that.”

The first gunshot takes you by surprise, his pistol jumping into his hand so quickly it looks like magic. One man goes down instantly as his compatriots scatter. Your Cowboy goes for the next but you lay a restraining hand on his arm, pulling him behind a wall.

“I thought we agreed on not shooting first and asking questions later?”

“I don’t intend to ask them questions, darlin’,” he responds, unholstering his rifle and casually taking aim around the corner. The shot makes you cover your ears but you still hear someone scream in the distance. The wall next to his head explodes and he jerks back, a piece of stone embedded just beneath his eye.

“You’re hurt!” you cry out, pulling his face towards yours. He shrugs you off, touching the area before refocusing.

“It’ll be fine.”

You pull at everything in you and force him to look at you. “Let me talk to them.”

He curses but doesn’t shoot again, glaring at you all the while. You wait a moment before calling out in your sweetest voice, “It seems we got off on the wrong foot.”

“That bastard killed Darryl!”

You glare at your Cowboy who looks entirely unrepentant. “Well, you were holding guns on us, it’s a dangerous place out here.”

A breeze caresses your face and you take a chance, stepping around the wall over your Cowboy’s spluttered protests. Your skirt whips around your knees and against the back of your neck as you hold your hands up. “I’m sure we can come to an amicable agreement!”

A head pops up, the scarred face staring back at you slack jawed. “Well hell you look just like her, Daisy Mae in the flesh.”

Groaning softly you try to keep your expression chipper. “Ain’t that something! May I ask what you’re here for?”

“You know what we’re here for.”

Well shit, you did. It was too much to hope that that asshole hadn’t sent people after you. But you really didn’t want them talking about that. “Well, then I think you also know that I’m not really interested in acquiescing.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“She ain’t going with you, numbnuts.”

You try not to roll your eyes at your Cowboy’s words. He gives you a look of wide-eyed innocence. “Want me to rephrase that as a question?”

There’s the sound of a shot, and suddenly pain blooms along your side. You clutch at it automatically, gasping softly, and then he’s there. Your Cowboy. One arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you out of the line of fire.

Distantly you hear yelling, hear the men arguing with each other. But all you can see is the burned face of the man above you.

“Ah shit,” he grunts, pressing a cloth to the wound, “you ain’t got enough blood to be losing this much.”

“Sorry,” you mumble in return, trying to give him a halfhearted smile, “I’d rather it be on the inside too.”

He gives you a quick smile, pressing your hands to the cloth. “Am I allowed to do some hurting now?”

You wave a hand weakly, “Have at it.”

It’s efficient, whatever it is. Seven shots over the course of less than a minute. All of them from him as far as you can tell. None of them sound far enough away to be anyone else. You poke at the wound as he does it, grimacing at the ragged edges. Hopefully it wasn’t organic - you could probably heal up from a bit of metal if you were careful - but organic stuff had a tendency to fester.

Boots crunch on rock and you barely glance up as your Cowboy drops into a crouch next to you. He’s got a pack in his hand, a bandage in the other. You try to wave him off but he bats your hands away.

“It ain’t much, but it’ll set you up til we can find somewhere safe.”

“I’m fine,” you try to tell him even as he presses the somewhat clean gauze to your wound. “I don’t need-”

He cuts you off with a hand around your wrist, pulling you to your feet and throwing your arm over his shoulder. You cry out in pain and he freezes for a moment before wrapping an arm around your waist.

“You’ve been shot, so unless you and I got a fair bit more in common than you’ve been letting on, we need to get it treated.”

You nod, biting your lip. It hurts like a son of a bitch and you do your best to keep quiet as he leads you off in a different direction, towards what looks like a decently preserved building. Inside there are bedrolls and the remains of a fire - even a cot in one corner which he leads you near before leaning you against a wall. A moment later he reappears with a blanket from your pack, throwing it over the stained mattress and guiding you to lay down.

“Wait here, don’t move. I’m going to go roll the bodies, see if they have anything on them.”

“Roger that,” you say weakly, trying to give him a halfhearted salute. He snorts a laugh before heading out.

You close your eyes, just for a moment. Just to keep your head from spinning.

☢ ☢ ☢

For updates follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

#the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout series

70 notes · View notes

monsterfuckerconfessions · 1 year ago

Note

I have one fantasy that I will always fall back on if I have a hard time… enjoying myself. Picture this.

You live in a village tucked far away in the mountains. Your home is surrounded by a dense forest filled with dangerous and ravenous beasts, phantoms used to fill children’s nightmares and offer caution to rebellion. There are very few defenses in place against this threat, but one manages to be the most efficient. Whenever someone comes of age, they must leave an offering for the woodland monsters in order to secure their safety for another year. And it must be valuable.

So you wait, watching as time moves up until your 21st year when you are considered an adult. And you are terrified. You barely manage to make ends meet with work produced by your hands and the generosity of other townsfolk. But you can’t rely on them for this. It has to be your offering. But what can you give when you have nothing?

With no more time to spare, you come to a disheartening conclusion. The most valuable thing you have to offer is yourself. So you take the gamble. After all, the worst outcome is death and without protection, it would happen anyway. You spend the day making yourself presentable, dressing in something to highlight your tasty features and dowsing yourself in some sweet fragrances. Of course you don’t know what forest dwelling beings like, but you do your best.

Finally, the hour is upon you. Not wanting people to look into you too closely, you bundle up and bunch up a blanket to act as your “gift” and make your way out of down and into the darkness of the woods.

You jump at every chirp and crackle that echoes around you. You know your imagination is rather active, but you could swear there are a host of eyes tracking you as you follow the dirt path towards where the “alter” lies. You see the trees part in an unusual circular clearing with the massive stump of an ancient tree at the center. You can feel your legs shaking beneath you as you approach. Unfurling the blanket, you lay it down across the smooth wood as your (potential) last bed. With another breath, you unclasp the cloak and let it fall to the ground before crawling onto the platform and settle on your back.

You don’t know how long you lie there, staring at then canopy of leaves framing the starlit sky. It’s anxiety inducing to imagine what will happen to you and how stupid this whole plan is. But it’s better than locking yourself away in fear and shame. Might as well look at your death head on. Despite the nerves in your veins, you manage to close your eyes and drift to sleep.

Somewhere in your slumbering consciousness, your imagination steers your dreams. You see tall shadows emerging from the tree line to approach you. They examine you curiously, sniffing and prodding you with long taloned fingers. Slowly their curiosity gives way to boldness while they nuzzle against your skin. Tongues and hands covered in fur and rough scales caress every inch of you, marveling at your body.

You jolt as you feel something wet and firm press between your legs. The shock pulls you out of your sleep and you look around to see multiple creatures surrounding the stump. Muzzled mouths lick your fingers and an unidentified face nuzzles against your sex, devouring you with hungry fervor. You gasp, leaning back into strong arms that cradle you through the pleasure.

The night continues and one after another, new hands and appendages exploring you in ways no man ever can. They are at least merciful, allowing you to breathe in between intense orgasms for a few minutes before the next round begins.

When the sun finally rises, your body has been wrung dry and you are left a trembling mess atop the stump. A few of the friendly beings remain behind, assisting in your recovery before slinking back into the woods.

More than happy and satisfied yourself, you tidy yourself up and walk back to the village, waving to the eyes watching you. You know what your gift will be next year.

#monsterfucker confessions

151 notes · View notes

kirbybecomesastarwarrior · 1 year ago

Text

Kni-Kni Lullaby Part 1

Had they all listened to Kirby... they would've figured it what it was... They will soon enough... (to be continued)

Kirby just wanted his lullaby from his papa~

Meta Knight has an incredible singing voice but is extremely shy about it (he doesn't think his voice is that good) and Kirby wants nothing less than his papa's singing voice.

(Lore/ backstory)

Dragato and Meta Knight were captured during the siege of N.M.E's Labe (which I will explain later because of spoilers), and Team Halberd had to go and save MK. The rescue was led by non-other Sir Arthur... needless to say, they all came in clutch.

To make a long story short, Jerca & Garlude were sent out to scout ahead for Meta Knight. They found him within an inch of his life... with him cradling the tiniest baby in his arms... they instantly knew, "We need to protect this baby..."

However, they're not out of the woods yet: while escaping, they spot none other than... SIR UTHER?! He was slinking around the containment unit where Kirby was... They knew something was up, so they hid away with Meta Knight's cape.

~Dialouge

Sir Uther: Keep quiet! I don't want anyone to know I'm here...

Uther's Subordinate: They're all in the outer building... Sir Uther, why didn't you inform Sir Arthur that you were coming-

Sir Uther: BECAUSE I DON'T NEED THAT USELESS BLOODY FOOL TO INTERFERE SAVE ANOTHER MISTAKE OF NATURE!...

Sir Uther: (Makes a horrific reveal-and intentions for Kirby)

And the trio finds out something... something they shouldn't have...Something awful. All three were frozen in horror... and at that moment, Kirby was clutching onto Meta Knight for dear life. As if he knew of Uther's dangerous intention. Swiftly, Sir Uther leaves in search of Kirby...

In response to this:

Jerca: AW, HELL NAW... NOT THIS BABY!

Garlude: Oh that MOTHERF*CKER...

MK: We go... we have to go now... we have to hide him..."

When the trio finally returns to the safety of their ship, Meta Knight reveals the newest little member of their family to the rest of the team, hiding away under his cape... (they all fell in love with Kirby instantly and swore to protect him)

That was 3 weeks ago~

Since then Meta Knight has been on recovery leave, and the higher-ups (Sir Uther) wanted to interview (integrate) him on his capture and what he had possibly found.

In MK's thoughts POV: (Nothing, just an astral baby that I plan to keep hidden from you & your filthy hands... You f*cking piece of- )

So while Meta Knight was at this B.S. interview, the crew thought wanted give MK a break tonight with Kirby, and everything was going great... that is until bedtime rolled around.

Putting Kirby to sleep was always a daunting task: he would cry non-stop and refused to sleep. Until Meta Knight would come in to soothe him... and whisk him away in private ... making him the only one able to put him to sleep.

Kirby always favored Meta Knight, so no one really questioned it... Jecra, however, was the only one starting to notice the pattern...

The crew managed to distract him (from the fact MK wasn't there) by playing with him and feeding him (they lost half the fridge), but when Kirby realized Meta Knight wasn't going to be the one to put him to bed... he lost it! He runs to find Meta Knight.

Kirby just wanted his lullaby from his papa~ He just has high standards for nap time and for good reason...

Meta Knight has an incredible singing voice but is extremely shy about it (he doesn't think his voice is that good) and Kirby wants nothing less than his papa's singing voice.

This is a good time to introduce two members of M.K's crew:

Sir Perry (Peridot Fleur De Lis) Non binary - They/ them

-The youngest & precious been of the group

-former thief/ indentured servant

-forced to join the GSA, family and sold them to pay off their debt

Sir Avery (Avery Lohengrin) Female - She/ her

-She is basically like Pearl from Steven Universe, but a more laid-back version

-peacekeeper/ mother hen of the team

-choose to join the GSA to run away from an arranged marriage

I have more on them later...

Garlude and Sir Gregory (another crew member I named) will be making an appearance in part 2, as well as a maskless Jecra (a little tease for now~)

There's also a reason why Meta Knight is so in-tuned with Kirby... I tried to hint at it while Meta Knight was holding Kirby... but that will be revealed later in the comic.

Look forward to it!

#kirby #meta knight #metadad #kbasw #kirby anime #kirby right back at ya #jecra #hoshi no kaabii #knuckle joe's father #sir perry #sir Avery #krbay #sir uther #kirby oc

124 notes · View notes

reminiscingtonight · 2 years ago

Text

Get Got

Rose Lavelle x Morgan!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: The way Alex’s Snacks episode instantly inspired a couple fics...

[WOSO Masterlist]

Rose has been squirrely since you got up this morning.

After your late night in LA you decided you deserved to sleep in a bit, given your practice had been moved to the afternoon. This meant that Rose, ever the morning person she is, was already up and running around the house by the time you graced her with your presence.

Blinking owlishly, you yawn out a “good morning” and give her a kiss when she presses a warm mug of coffee into your hands.

“Sleep well?” she asks, fingers toying with the ends of your hair.

You hum in response, not missing the way her feet are tapping at the ground around you. The last time she was this full of energy she kept you in bed for nearly an entire day, only letting you out of the room when you finally tapped out, body fully cramped out by all of the pleasure she was happily giving you. But given that you had to be at training in less than an hour, you knew neither of you had time to work out all of her energy.

Rose hasn’t seen much of the field after returning from camp with a bit of a leg problem, so it made sense that she seemed to have so much energy. What didn’t make sense is the way she keeps switching through the songs on your brief drive over to training. Or the way she can’t seem to sit still in the locker room.

Even Megan seems to be taken off guard, throwing her sock at Rose’s forehead the third time your girlfriend runs a lap around everyone as you all change into your workout gear.

“Have you listened to Sammy’s podcast yet?”

Her comment comes just as you trudge onto the field, lightly jogging your warm up.

You shake your head, laughing at the crinkle between her eyebrows. “Babe, I’ve been with you all morning.” You briefly remember your sister telling you something about finally being invited onto your friends’ podcast, but to be honest you hadn’t really planned on listening to her episode until later in the week during your free time. Obviously you wouldn’t plan on skipping it, but the two of you had your own lives, not everything you did had to revolve around each other.

Before you can ask Rose about her question, Sonnett’s crashing your solitude, throwing an arm around each of your shoulders. “How are my favorite midfielders on this fine April day?”

“Don’t let Lindsey hear you say that,” you snort, shrugging the blonde’s arm off of you.

Sonnett looks like she’s about to say something else, but a quick elbow into her gut by Rose quickly shuts her up. You frown, tilting your head in question at your girlfriend, but she pretends not to notice, starting on a random tangent.

You don’t have a chance to question either of them, as Laura’s quick to call in the team and start doling out exercises.

By the time someone else brings up Sam and Lynn’s podcast, you had already forgotten about Rose’s weird behavior.

It’s near the end of practice. Half of the girls were already back inside, getting iced and doing a quick recovery session. You and some of the others had stuck around to help clean up the field before heading their way.

Sofia slinks up next to you, handing you one of the cones on the ground. You give her a nod in thanks, quick to move onto the next cone.

“Did you know you’re dating an evil mastermind?” Sofia chuckles.

You’re not really sure what prompted her to say that, but you can’t help but laugh and give her a grin. “Tell me something I don’t know. Rose is an evil mastermind but at least she’s an evil mastermind who loves me and wouldn’t dare to prank me lest I make her sleep on the couch.”

You love Rose for so many reasons. Like almost too many to count. But that girl was a bit of a monster when it comes to pulling pranks on all of your friends. The couple of years before you officially began dating was a bit rough, you not ever knowing if you would be met with “friend” Rose or “in a pranking mood” Rose every time you saw each other. It’s been three years since, and “girlfriend” Rose was much more likely to treat you to chocolates and flowers than try to pull a quick one on you.

“What a shame her leniency doesn’t extend to the rest of your family.”

When you look at her with a confused face, Sofia’s quick to meet your expression with one of her own. “I’m assuming you haven’t listened to Alex’s Snacks episode yet?”

When you shake your head, she’s quick to pull out her phone. You’re a bit amused to see the episode sitting paused in her Spotify, but she must’ve been listening to it before coming to practice.

Sofia rewinds a little bit, having nearly finished the episode already.

You’re greeted with your sister’s raspy voice as she presses play.

It’s all the typical stuff you were expecting. Some talk about Taylor Swift, Alex’s favorite songs from her album, Rose’s obsession with Taylor Swift conspiracies--

And that’s when you hear it.

“Yeah, but you can’t ever trust what she says. Like do you think she’s telling the truth?”

“Hot take, you can’t trust Rose.”

By the time Alex’s done detailing her run-in with Rose and Sonnett during camp, you’re laughing so hard that you have to wipe tears from your eyes.

It’s often a rarity for you to not be in camp, but you had missed this past one due to a slight injury that’s been healed since. Everyone’s been home for a couple of days now, but this is the first time you’re hearing about any pranks being pulled against Alex.

“Did she actually--” you question, still trying to catch your breath.

Sofia nods, still grinning like crazy. “Alex got a little pouty when she realized they were playing her.”

Sometimes Rose and Alex’s relationship made you want to laugh. When Rose first met your sister she was terrified. Not even dating yet at that point, you had to reassure Rose time and time again that Alex didn’t hate her. And look at them now. Now most times you have to reassure Alex that Rose didn’t have it out to get her.

It’s all done in good spirit, but it looks like you’re going to have to convince Alex not to eye your girlfriend with distrust again the next time you’re all in the same room.

The two of you are still joking about it when you roll into the recovery room.

It’s a bit cute how Rose perks up when she sees you, hands instantly making a grabby motion. Sofia takes one look at the brunette before breaking out into laughter again, pushing you towards your girlfriend before going to the other side of the room.

Rose frowns after the defender, unfortunately still stuck in her compression boots. She opens her mouth to question Sofia, but you press a kiss to her forehead before she can say anything.

Your kiss does its job, pulling Rose’s attention back to you.

Although she looks up at you lovingly, she’s quick to narrow her eyes at the amusement dancing around your face. “Okay, what did Sof tell you.”

“Babe, you and Sonny need to stop tormenting Al.”

“Alex needs tougher skin,” she snorts in response, instantly knowing what you’re referring to.

“She got got!” Sonnett adds, throwing her arms up in celebration.

You roll your eyes in amusement. “Go away, Son.” You turn back to Rose. She’s looking a little smug at successfully fooling your sister again. “Don’t go acting like you weren’t terrified of her when I was introducing you as my girlfriend for the first time.”

“Alex is scary,” Rose nods. But the smirk is quick to come back. “Until she isn’t.”

Sonnett lets out a hoot in agreement, giving Rose a fist bump.

Sometimes you wonder why you’re friends with literal children.

And then you remember that children are fun to fool with too, and it makes everything so much better.

“You know, she’s not wholly convinced that you aren’t dating me as some way to prank her.”

It takes a second for your words to sink in, but when they finally do, Rose is sitting up in alarm. “Wait, what.”

You let out a hum as you stand up to go to your own table.

“That’s a joke, right?” she nervously chuckles, unable to go after you while she still has the boots on.

With your back to her, you don’t have to worry about hiding your grin. All she can see is your shoulders as you shrug, making your way to the other side of the room.

“Babe! That’s a joke, right?!” Rose’s half terrified voice follows after you.

Alex is going to have a field day when you tell her about this later.

#rose lavelle x reader #rose lavelle imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #Ace writes

390 notes · View notes

jamiesfootball · 7 months ago

Note

Ted taking Beard to his friend who is a dentist? It's not just helping Beard not be in pain. It's helping him get his life back.

I was (for almost a decade) missing a tooth. I did realise how much it held my life back until I came into enough money to have it replaced.

(I actually had an idea in one of my fics that the first thing Beard does after getting like Money is teeth stuff because I have a friend who is in long term recovery that did that. He got implants to replace his partial)

This, yes. I’ve known a lot of people over the years (including myself) who’ve just dealt with long term tooth pain because the amount of money it would take to fix whatever problems they had.

With Beard, who I’ve always headcanoned as coming from a low income background, I can definitely see a combination of factors leading to him putting off doing anything for a long time.

Then with Beard staying with Ted when he got out of prison-

“Can’t help but notice that after dinner your plate’s looking a little closer to half full than half empty. Now I’m certainly no Emeril, but then I also don’t remember you being a real picky eater back in college either. It’s not an allergy is it?”

“No. It’s fine. Just a little tooth sensitivity. Got worse in prison.”

“Uh-huh. And how long you had that?”

“About twenty years.”

Ted answers with his eyebrows. Beard hardly notices it; he told Michelle he’d do the dishes, and that supersedes whatever personal lore of his has caught Ted’s interest this time. He doesn’t see how Ted’s eyes soften, the way he sighs with his shoulders, the gears rattling into territory where good men should fear to tread, less they get their boots dirty on the low-level grime Beard’s been trailing behind him his whole life like Linus with his blanket.

He doesn’t know yet that Ted’s never turned over a stone without wanting to shine it up and take it home.

Standing in Ted’s house, under the weight of Ted’s generosity, with one singular task to focus on, Beard doesn’t even wonder to himself what Teddy might be up to, digging a leather phone book out of the junk drawer and slinking off with the receiver of the cordless phone in hand.

Rookie mistake.

#ted lasso #coach beard #cw dentist #ask box is always open

31 notes · View notes

jumpywhumpywriter · 5 months ago

Text

Assassin Rescues Prisoner from Target's house part 4

TW: blood, intense torture, recovery, pain, death, assassination, severe whump, etc.

FLASHBACK:::

Jax was out on a job, working alongside his apprentice, Kieran. His flippant, reckless, and only companion. Jax always feared that his carelessness would get him killed one day... and that's exactly what happened. His apprentice and him had been tracking an elusive target for several days, a corrupt politician, and finally believed they had cornered them. But it turned out to be a trap.

They were slinking soundlessly through the city streets, no more than twin shadows in the night, cloaked in darkness, their greatest ally. Their target had fled there to hide. But the two of them made a great team, and were the best hunters in existence. No one could ever escape them. The two of them moved with predatory grace and silent stealth as they navigated their way through the streets undetected. Invisible to the world.

They came upon a large building with lights out, and split up to case it, meeting back in front.

"All clear," Kieran whispered, his voice no more than a quiet breath of air. "No guards posted."

That alone set off dozens of red flags for Jax. Too easy. His sense for danger was going off like crazy. "Stay vigilant," he warned, turning to face Kieran... only to find him already in motion.

That blasted kid--- Jax cursed silently to himself, and lunged forward to intercept his eager apprentice as he darted toward the building, taking a running leap at it.

"Kieran!" he hissed urgently, reaching out a hand to stop him.

With ninja-like agility, Kieran dodged him and sprung up to grab a high windowsill, pulling himself up so that he perched there like a cat on the ledge. He stared down at Jax with a mischievous smirk.

"Come on old man," he teased good-naturedly. "Learn to live a little." Kieran pried open the window and slipped inside the building without hesitation. Jax felt a wave of frustrated anger wash over him. Why couldn't that kid ever listen to his wisdom? Rolling his eyes with exasperation, he calculated the distance and made the jump himself, easily heaving himself through the window into the dark building.

"Something's not right," Jax growled quietly, as he caught up with Kieran's silent shadow in a dark hall. But Kieran kept on moving, tossing him a troublesome grin that was visible in the dark only by the flash of white teeth, followed by a wink.

"Something's always wrong when it comes to you," he breathed an airy laugh. "Relax, we'll be fine. We always are."

"Just because we are winning does not mean we have won," Jax said pointedly. "Your cockiness in the face of danger worries me. Have you no sense of caution?"

"Thou speaketh wise words," Kieran teased, amused. "But alas, we are on a mission that cannot wait."

"I think we should wait for reinforcements to arrive," Jax suggested, specifically referring to the only other ally he had, a female ninja assassin by the name of Ella.

"Pfft, don't be such a worrier. Since when have we ever needed backup? The more people who get involved, the more divided the reward amongst them. I'm not sharing my prize with anyone but you," Kieran said stubbornly.

Jax trailed uneasily after his apprentice as they walked further into the building. But then, they reached the center of it, emerging into a large room, and that's when all chaos was let loose.

All the lights turned on at once, chasing away the darkness they were using for cover. They had been expected. A group of five men armed with knives and guns came jumping out of hiding to surround them.

"It's a trap!" Jax shouted with realization. He drew his dagger in a heartbeat, fanning out a handful of throwing knives in his free hand that he sent whizzing through the air with deadly accuracy. "Believe me now, Kieran?" He snapped, voice coming out in a snarl.

They stood back-to-back as danger closed in from all sides in the giant room, taking on the opponents that outnumbered them. But Jax and Kieran were the best fighters out there, and they held their own well, tearing through the group with deadly precision, Jax taking on three, and Kieran battling with the remaining two. Their movements were fluid and perfectly in-sync, covering each other's blindspots.

Soon all the guards lay strewn across the floor in varying states of consciousness, moans of pain ringing through the air. Jax surveyed the carnage, panting hard from exertion, before something hard and solid suddenly slammed into him, sending him staggering to the side.

"WATCH OUT!" A warning shouted before a sharp cry of pain followed. Jax whirled around to see Kieran clutching his chest... where red spilled out the front of his black suit from a hole in his chest, having taken the bullet that had been meant for his mentor.

Kieran's eyes were wide with shock as he touched his chest, staring numbly at the hand that came away smeared with blood.

"Uh... J-Jax?" He said, his voice shaky with fear. His gaze flicked up to meet his mentor's, and then... he crumpled to the floor, spitting blood that filled his lungs.

Jax immediately spotted the man that had fired the shot, the politician himself standing in the doorway they'd come through, and sent a throwing knife whistling his way, quickly dispatching him before dropping down next to his apprentice, putting pressure on the wound with one hand while ripping off a piece of his cloak to wrap around it. He needed to get Kieran to a medic, fast. Or Ella. She would know how to save him.

"What were you thinking?! WERE you even thinking?" Jax barked, a little harsher than he meant it.

Kieran offered a shaky smile, despite the situation. "Hey... someone has to watch your back... right?" He coughed, blood beading in the corners of his mouth.

"How can you still be making jokes right now?!" Jax snapped angrily, frustration spiking.

Kieran's smile wobbled, and fell away. "I figured it would... kff... ease your conscience a little... make it easier for you--"

"--Don't talk like that," Jax sharply cut him off, voice catching in his throat. "Don't even go there. You're going to be fine, there's still time to save you--"

"I think we both know that's not true," Kieran wheezed weakly, fixing Jax with a knowing gaze. "You were right... I should've... listened to you... and now... I'm simply paying the price... for my mistake... it's not your fault... I'm so reckless..."

"No, you can't leave me here alone. I won't allow it," Jax growled firmly, but couldn't help the rising panic that seeped into his voice, destroying the last few threads of his usual stoic composure.

Kieran's eyes glittered, a trembling smile warping his lips, still full of that inner fire. "Fight the good fight... old man... for both of us..." a gurgling cough escaped him... and then his body shuddered once, before going limp with a raspy breath, eyes rolling back.

Jax was in total shock, staring down at Kieran in utter disbelief. Part of him expected Kieran to open his eyes again, say it was just a funny prank to pull on him. A minute passed. Then another. Still nothing.

"Come on kid... please don't do this to me--" Jax's voice cracked helplessly as he stared down at the lifeless form in his lap, scarlet blood snaking from his chest and mouth, staining the marbled floor red. His vision blurred, the world spinning.

"Kieran... you have to come back... you always... come back..." But something told him this time was different. Jax's face twisted with anguish and grief, horrified and now more alone than ever before. Something permanently broke inside him, his soul shattering into a thousand razor-sharp pieces. His apprentice... the boy who had cheated death alongside him so many times... gone, just like that. All in an instant. Forever.

He held Kieran close and let his mask fall apart completely, body-racking sobs soon overtaking him as he mourned. He had thought he'd prepared himself for such possibilities, being the tough fighter he was--knowing every mission could be the last for either of them--but he hadn't expected this.

"You did so well," Jax whispered as he kissed his forehead, hugging him tighter. He wished he'd said it more often during their intense sparring and training sessions. "I'm so, so proud of you, kid--more than you'll ever know. I am honored to have... to have been your friend."

An anguished wail tore loose from him, roaring his rage to the world, his pain and anger. He'd failed his apprentice. He should have seen the politician coming-- should've anticipated-- maybe he could have stopped them-- he bowed his head low, shutting out the guilt.

Jax slowly rose to trembling feet, pulling Kieran up with him, and slung his limp body over a shoulder with so much care and gentleness as he escaped the wretched building. He could hear sirens in the distance, no doubt police had been called after hearing gunshots.

He slipped into the familiar, welcoming darkness of the alleyways, making his way back to his underground hideout, his feet heavy as stone with each step, grief shredding him apart from the inside out as he felt Kieran's still-warm blood slide down his skin, soaking through his cloak. Gone. His closest friend, his apprentice and companion, was gone.

From that day on he resolved never to let anyone get close again, lest he experience the pain of losing them again. He worked all his jobs alone, risking his life and his alone.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

#whump fic #whump inspiration #whump list #whump prompt #whump writing #whumpee #whumper #whumper and whumpee #writing prompt #writing #whumplr #whump community #whump #prisoner #captive whumpee #cruel whumper #pain

15 notes · View notes

trash----panda · 4 months ago

Text

I dreamed again for the first time in awhile, and it was like a space rangers thing, and the main character was a human (imma call her Pip cause it's easier)

Imma say injury, near death, and some scary stuff ahead, just as a trigger warning

Pip was responding to a destress signal from a crashed ship. Pip encountered a native alien who was pretty friendly and started insisting they should be friends. He is rather pushy about friends and his facial language being different makes Pip uncomfortable. So she tried to ask what friend means and he claimed "i get dibs to eat you if you die" she's just kinda more disturbed and says no, trying to leave him behind. Cause she said no he kinda slinks around but keeps out of sight now. She finds the distressed ship on a beach, it's super quiet and empty which isnt a good sign cause there's not even native birds out there, like feels like the sea is even being quiet. She goes into the ship and finds ample blood, the only survivor being a shivering child in the dark. They try to coax him out but he just screams and resists, saying something about a monster. Pip turned around to check only seeing some claws breifly before they tore into her cheek, whatever it was tackled by the dude that was following her earlier (I'll call him.... Harper i can redesign Harper). Harper is holding it's arm down with his teeth but what she can make out he's telling her to run, so she grabs the kid and sprints for it, as soon as they get out there's a crash and snarl. The thing ran after them but this time she had time to activate a shield, it was focusing it's attacks on her so she at least got the child out of the situation, trying to fight back without injuring it further. It looked like Harper but smaller, they probably stumbled on a nest so she didnt want to kill it. She didnt get a chance to think of solutions as it smashed the shield, grabbing her leg in it's teeth using it's other arm to pin her chest, trying to rip it off. Harper stumbled out, getting it in a head lock, asking her to spike it (ig stab in the head) but she kept saying it's a baby she cant kill it, and he told her she should cause babies are born with more muscle mass they burn off later from lack of food to sustain it so they cant kill it, but she insisted spike it without the spike. Harper still insisted on being friends so he did as he was told and knocked it out, needing to carry her back to her ship cause her leg was mangled. He insisted on coming with so she agreed and he got elected her temporary partner. They ended up in another rescue in a collapsing mine shaft but ended up getting trapped in seperate pockets. Harper eventually found Pip but Pip was impaled through the lower abdomen, he broke down crying, i vaugely remember what he said

"do you know why i wanted to be your friend?"

Pip mumbled "cause i was the only human there?"

"no, there was the child, but he would've died sooner, you could live, i thought maybe you would be around long enough for me to know what a friend is in other's culture, so i could not be alone anymore... i thought it was a new purpose when your friends died but i dont want you to die!"

Pip kinda laughed at him, urging him closer, giving him a hug "well the indomitable human spirit wont let me"

He had no idea what that meant and kept trying to stop her from talking so she'd last longer. They some how lasted 3 days until they were found, the medics dumbfounded someone was alive with rock in their body until they found out it was a human. Harper was too panicked to help them keep her awake while they sealed the wound so they removed him. He was basically in shock and dehydrated but otherwise ok. They ended up walking him to see Pip when she was in recovery. When he asked if she was ok the reply he got was

"we get osmosians, we get glekarites, and we get heckates, but they all have a higher mortality rate then humans, the humans keep calling it the indomitable human spirit and just NOT dying, it's the weirdest thing, so if that human dies i'll give you 500 units"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Then i woke up, but im assuming Pip was ok

#oc #my ocs #oc roleplay #oc rp #funky critters #weird #my writing #writing #size difference #my art #writers on tumblr #i dreamt #gt writing #i love them so much #self indulgent

8 notes · View notes

tmwcs · 2 years ago

Text

HHP - Chapter 4

Peeps! I'm so sorry it took me so long, just as I had time away from work, I had gotten the flu and was out for a week trying to recuperate. Fortunately, i did! :) Still am healing but am feeling so much better compared to Monday. Anywho, chapter 4 of HHP is up! It's getting to the good parts, by now, you're able to see the perspectives of Heeseung and Ethan, but there is more to come. :) Also, Mermaids tale next chapter is in the works so that will be posted shortly as well.

PS: Because I am finally starting to make a recovery and was wanting to push this out asap, this isn't proof read so please ignore the grammar errors or any mispellings, i'll fix that later on and adjust it.

Pairing: Heeseung/Ethan X You

Warnings: yes, this is strictly for 18+, so minors please pass this over and do not read. Nothing too bad, just sexual public display of affection, fingering, kissing, total dominance and possessiveness of you (reader) from Ethan.

Summary: Naaaaah.

The break ended shortly after the trip to the valley; going back to a full schedule of classes felt overwhelming as you became entrenched with the constant workload of pushing assignments to meet scheduled deadlines. Spending time with Heeseung was shared with the amount of homework you both had, mainly in his room. Aside from weekends, every day was routine, both your noses deep in books, sitting next to one another as you typed up assignment after assignment.

You sat on his bed, back against the wall as your legs extended out, feet hanging off the edge. Heeseung abruptly stood up from his desk chair, and walked over to the edge of the bed, kneeling, and resting his chin on his arms as they laid crossed beside your legs. His fingers perform a spider crawl up your thigh, causing you to suddenly break eye contact from the screen and look his way, seeing the handsome smirk he displayed under his cap.

“Take a break.”

The calmness of his deep voice and his nurturing demand made you smile and nod as you hit the save button and closed your laptop, leaning over and setting it aside. Before you could reset back to your original position, you felt the dip on the bed as he crawled over to you, hovering over your legs. His hands grab your arms just above the elbow, pinning them against your sides as he pulls you over, laying your head on the pillow against the headboard.

His grip on your arms remained firm, squeezing them against your torso as he leans his head in and starts leaving you soft kisses beginning at your jawline, your neck, down to your collarbone, and on to your subtly exposed cleavage, where he remained the longest, repeatedly tenderizing your skin with those softpecks. The baseball cap gently comes off his grape as the bill pushes against the pillow next to your face during his exhibition.

“Hungry?” He mutters out in between kisses, which have become less soft and more wet as he incorporates his tongue into the act, while his hand slip under your shirt and grabs on to your ribcage, his thumbs massage you, making him melt at the softness of your skin and the slight feeling of your bones while he gently presses down with each stroke.

“Uhm…a little.” Was all you could speak out; your answer would have been more solid had you not began to feel the tingles of ecstasy rising beneath your chest and your pelvis.

He didn’t’ immediately say anything back, instead, he kept kissing your collarbones and cleavage, the pinning of your arms to your sides enhanced the suppleness of your breast to plump and rise from your v-neck shirt. The thin white material was only sheer enough to show the form of your nipples protruding but covered the coloring and shadow of the areolas. Your black athletic shorts were already short enough, but the lift of your legs as you rubbed your feet on the back of his while he laid atop of you caused the waist band to rise and slink passed your belly button, also exposing the undercarriage of your buttocks.

After a few seconds and still no response from him, you added on to your answer to see if he was going to converse back.

“What about you?” Your voice was soft and shaky, the kisses and his rubbing of your ribcage was already providing enough stimulation, but once you felt his groin pressing against you in between your thighs, a gasp nearly busted through your mouth. Biting down on your bottom lip, you fought the natural reaction of tilting your head back and exposing your throat at his triggering act, instead, you murmured your question as you slightly burrowed your nose into his hair, which had created the vibrating waves in your voice to come out unsteadily.

Still, no answer.

It was normal for Heeseung to delay in answering, he was a man of few words, yet this time it was a bit unusual for him to not answer at all, regardless that he was glazing your entire chest with saliva through the repeated licks and smacks of his lips against your skin. Without breaking from his routine, he continues. You were well on your way to staying up for another late evening, it would so appear.

The next morning after Heeseung kissed and dropped you off at the other side of the campus building for your morning classes, you walked in through the main double doors and made your way through the hall. A girl approaches your way. Since she made eye contact with you, it was only polite that you smiled and nod your head at her presence as you both continued to walked towards one another.

Reminding you of how Vicky used to dress, the girl had attire that was overly flirtatious and flamboyant. Standing around your height, she swung her medium length hair off to the side, brushing against her shoulder in a sinful manner. Carrying a flare of brazen attitude, which you had no idea was directed towards you until the moment she hummed in a belittling manner as she walked right passed you, eyeing you down with a look of displeasure and harshness as her lips released a hiss the moment her body nearly became parallel to yours.

“Good Morning.” You greeted her softly as she was abreast from you.

Feeling slightly shocked and offended that the girl didn’t respond or greeted back in the same notion, instead you noted her sour posture as she continues to walk past you, squinting her eyes in a haughty glare.

Confused, you broke eye contact and increased your pace to the classroom without looking back. Unsure of the odd vibe she was giving off, this was the first time anyone had ever disrespected you in such a manner. Ever since high school, you were always well liked, remarked for how kind and helpful you were, no one had ever displayed aggression towards you like that. What was even stranger was the fact that you had never seen her in your life, yet she stared you down as if you had done something awful and offended her. Paying no mind, you reached the classroom and carried on with your set schedule.

Taking a seat next to Emily, you felt better already as you engaged in conversation with your cute and petite bosom buddy.

The day felt long, finally after the last class of the day you met up with the girls as they grouped up outside the building, waiting for their boyfriends.

“Hey y/n! What are you doing this weekend? There’s an event at one of the frat houses, we’re all going. Come with and bring Ethan.”

You tilted your head wondering if you felt up for going out, you had already felt exhausted from the workload and it was early in the week, who knows how you’d feel come Friday. Remaining neutral in your answer, you explained that you would let them know once you run it through with your man to make sure he had no plans or prior commitments.

Pulling up immediately after you gave your response, Heeseung parks his car along the curb and gets out to open the door for you as you walk over and wave goodbye to the girls. Jake pulls up in his vehicle behind to pick up Emily, playfully honking the horn at the car before him recognizing Heeseung’s plates. You chuckle as Heeseung nonchalantly ignores Jake, letting him honk away vying for his attention, no doubt to tease him. Seeing that his honking wasn’t getting the reaction he was hoping for, Jake dials in as Heeseung shuts the door for you, walks over and seats himself in the driver seat. Answering, Heeseung proceeds to display the dry comical side of himself as you watched feeling entertained by the interaction of the duo.

“Hello?” Heeseung answers the phone, monotone and ever so aloof with his expression as always, with the help of his cap hiding his eyes of course.

“Bro why didn’t you wave? I was honking at you?”

“Who is this?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the first sighting of Heeseung displaying his “playful” side if you would call it that. It was, in his own way, yet even though he really wasn’t trying to be, you found it hilarious as he continued to give out the pretense of not recognizing Jakes voice on the line.

“Heeseung bro, what are you doing?”

“How do you know my name?”

“Really?” Jake’s voice peaked at a high pitch as you hear him laugh on the phone as Heeseung held it against his ear.

“Who are you?”

“I’m the handsome man that’s behind your car. Who are you?”

“Can’t tell you. There’s a beautiful lady present, I’ll be more than happy to text it to you instead.”

As the conversation continued, you cover your mouth as you began laughing harder and louder, wrapping an arm around your stomach as you leaned against the seat, watching Heeseung text Jake a picture of Spiderman.

He glanced over to you with a smirk, happily watching you smile and laughing to near tears at his and Jake’s expense.

“Bro for real though, are you taking y/n out Friday night with the rest of the crew? Emily and I are going.”

“I don’t go out with strangers.”

“Heeseung for real man.”

“Refresh my memory on who you are? How do you know my name?”

“Dude this is annoying. Let’s go out Friday, yeah?”

“We’ll see.”

“We’ll see? What do you have going on?”

“I have the pretty thing next to me going on.”

“Bro, we’re all going, to include y/n.”

“We’ll see.”

“Dude!! Hahaha come on!”

“Let me ask my other half and see what she wants to do, and I’ll hit you back up later.”

Hanging up as Jake was in mid-sentence, Heeseung sent a playful emoji to him while asking how you felt about the event on Friday.

“Do you want to go out Friday?” He asks as he sends off the text and places his phone down on the center cupholder, looking up at you while he tilts his head back against the headrest. Lifting his hand and gently moves a piece of hair off to the side, softly sighing as he enjoyed the sight of your face.

You still weren’t sure if you felt up to going, yet the eagerness of everyone desiring for you and Heeseung to tag along gave you a bit of motivation to consider it.

“I guess we can go for a little bit since everyone wants us to join. I don’t think I would be up to staying out too late though, this week is going to be busy and exhausting.” Thoroughly answering, you gave your answer as you enjoyed the feeling of his hand moving your hair.

Staying silent and impartial to the topic, Heeseung continued to admire your face as the iris of his eyes shift all around, signifying him studying of your features as his pupils shrink. He looked as if he was in a trance and would have probably remained in that state had it not been for you to lean into his hand, kissing it before facing forward. A soft and deep chuckle emerges before he rests his hand on your thigh and drives smoothly with one hand, displaying his ambidexterity as he effortlessly controlling the steering wheel the whole way through.

The week, just as you had surmised, had been a tiring one, yet it went by so fast as Friday was already here.

Everyone dolled themselves up for the party, of course you remained true to your usual fashion in keeping things simplistic but with a flare of sex appeal as the cocktail dress graced your body with its soft material. Feeling glad that you agreed to go out, it was nice for everyone to dress up and get ready to let lose after such a hard week.

The party was overcrowded; however, you didn’t mind finding yourself pinned up against Heeseung as you both shimmied your way through the large house to meet with the group, giggling and lustfully exchanging glances as your bodies rubbed up against each other amidst the shuffle. Coming to a standstill, your movements were paused as you both reached the center of the main room where majority of the guests were drunk and disorderly, dancing around ritually, completely unaware of their surroundings.

The constant jumping and push pull from the people around you only furthered Heeseung’s will to pull you closer, and that’s when you suddenly felt his hands grab on to you right above your elbows, squeezing your arms against your sides as he brings you close. He leans his groin against your pelvis and does it in an inconspicuous manner, taking advantage of the severely darkened room. Everyone that surround’s you remain blissfully unaware of your public display of sexual tension while you surrendered to a sensation that took your breath away as you looked up wide eyed.

Of course, he had his cap on, and you couldn’t see his eyes as usual, although this time you were somewhat grateful, considering you were too flushed to even imagine how his gaze would look now. Through the slinky thin fabric of your dress and his jeans, his body remained tight against yours, initially you had thought it was uncontrolled and just a reaction of the grinding you both were forced to commit due to the lack of space, that was until you realized he was indeed doing it deliberately.

Judging by the way he wouldn’t release his grasp, even at the slightest bit of pull and tug you conducted out of sudden shock to create a small bit of distance between yourselves, furthered convinced you that he was doing it on purpose, causing you to shake your head and whisper soft pleas for him to not continue out of the fear of being noticed. Yet, the feeling was too good, and deep down you wished that everyone in the room had disappeared so that you could comfortably allow him to continue. The moans that you were biting your tongue down on, desperately trying to keep them suppressed in your throat became harder to do as you started to release small panting whines. The frustration of holding them back became overbearing as you did your best to suppress them in your throat, unable to even cover your mouth with your hand since his hold was firm, like glue. Panting, slightly moaning, and feeling your body becoming loose and undone at his will, you feel your weight dropping, only for him to sense it and hold you up so he could continue.

With his large hands and fingers nearly wrapped fully around each arm, squeezing you in between them he uses his core strength to slightly lift you, just enough where your heels were an inch or two off the ground, leaving your tip toes to barely sustain whatever weight you could hold. His groin remains harshly pressed against you; he commences small, subtle grinding thrusts at the feel of your body, with the connection remaining strong, you were at his mercy when you felt his member hardened and repeatedly twitch against the softness of your clothed flesh between your thighs.

The materials of your dress and his jeans did nothing to decrease the flick of his cock as it remained hard and snapped against your core. Looking up slightly dazed from being dry fucked, it took every ounce of your mental strength to remain calm and steadied your facial expression to prevent attracting any attention to you both. But it was hard to do, your mouth wanted to remain slightly open, the saliva collecting on the outer corners of your mouth made it obvious that even though it couldn’t be heard through the loud music, you were letting out long and drawn-out moans. Your lids became heavy, shutting all but just a sliver of your vision as you became a lifeless doll, repeatedly getting beaten down by the flicking muscle.

It wasn’t your intention to signal for him to continue, but when summoned the last bit of your strength to whisper out, urging him to stop, the hint of your voice in your careless whisper came off yearning for more and he diligently noticed, and therefore responded. Feeling the grip around your arms tighten, and the force lifting your body upwards, he pulls your body closer, mashing it against his. Panting and whining, you looked up, able to see a pair of eyes this time under the bill of the cap at the angle you were positioned, and there you saw, Ethan staring back at you. The cap did well to cover his face, until he raised his chin up and gleamed at you under heavy lids, there was no smirk or the look of sinister playfulness that he typically displayed in his persona. Instead, it was all lust, desire, and a hint of amusement in his demeanor. One raised eyebrow to your reaction enhanced the pleasure he was feeling in his gut, especially noticing your mouth open slightly huffing out harsh breaths, your eyes staring down at his crotch, chest heaving, and the saliva building up on the bed of your tongue as your browns sternly furrowed. His expression turned devilishly sweet, it was pure evil in the most desiring manner possible.

The repeated elevation of your breast from the deep breathing promoted him to do more, you were so thankful that the loud music and dim lighting obscured all of Ethan’s subtle movements and your reaction to it. With his own rhythm, he slightly thrusts against your pelvis with his groin, his body was so hard and firm, the immediate contact of each hit caused you to become dumb out of ecstasy as you began to moan in sync each time you felt his hard member slap against your core. The soft material of your dress begins to collect to the center between your legs from the momentum, while your favorite lace panties ride up and become snug in between your folds as you grow damp, causing the material to brunch up in the center.

Remaining a firm grab of his forearms and elbows as his hands stay wrapped around your arms, you cave into his strength as he continues to hold you up, repeatedly, causing your upper body to lean back away and one of your legs to raise up and wrap around his calf muscle. Between his grasping strength and your stance, your mind shatters as you suddenly realized you had no control over your body, because the moment you felt your body being moved up and down by sheer force that was not your own, you now see how he was being so relentless in his grasp. You gasp in shock as he begins to bounce you up and down against his pelvis as the lighting in the room grew dimmer and began to flash flicker as the tempo of the music increased.

Panting and moaning in sync, your voice grows airy as you yelp each time your core tapping against his hard frame at his control, the sensation of his member flicking up against you each moment your bodies made contact rendered you to become ridden with pure sexual desire. Your voice emerges out of you harshly, almost as if you were coughing out your moans. Losing the steadiness of your breathing, you nearly felt lightheaded from the sensation, tilting your head back as your hair drapes further down your back, flamboyantly bouncing off your body, all of which made him enjoy the act even more.

Sensing his enjoyment at seeing you so weak and vulnerable, you attempted one last time to break contact by shifting your hands from his forearms to his chest and lower abdominal region, wherever you could reach seeing as your extension was limited since he had your arms remained pinned against your sides. With your palms flatly placed on whatever surface of his body you could rest them on, you pushed, but found that due to the position you were forced in, you had no strength or leverage to do any more than just to apply pressure against his ab muscles. Your measly attempt in defying his actions only amused him, so he bounces you harder and faster.

The slight bit of suffering in your expression at being powerless to stop him delighted him, the faint tears collecting in the outer corners of your eyes from the immense buildup of sexual tension and pleasure exposed a different side of your beauty that he loved seeing.

With the DJ shouting to the crowd for everyone to party up like animals, the over consumption of alcohol beverages, the flicker of the strobe lighting, and the bass of the music becoming louder, no one around batted an eye or even noticed, yet at that very moment, you didn’t even care as you began feeling so good that the knot in your lower gut stained your better judgement. All you wanted now was to feel that tightness to release, and Ethan continued to enjoy view the painfully pleasurable expression on your face.

As the crowd around you screamed at the chorus of the music and ritually danced all around, rubbing their own bodies up against each other, the final pelting of his groin muscles slapping against your covered nub did you in. Releasing one harsh moan followed by a series of struggling pants as you tried to minimalize the noise you were making, the harshness of your breathing escalated as your abdominal muscles repeatedly twitched as you came undone and felt the overload of moisture soaking your undergarment. So much, you could even smell it, it was sweet and warm. You knew he could sense it as well, the way he kept the physical contact and used his grip to control your body, making you grind against the bulk of his jeans as you felt the disbursing of warm fluid smear all over your panties.

Never once releasing his grasp on you the entire time, Ethan holds you steady as you remained leaned back, completely relying on his core strength in holding you up as your body became entirely unstable and weak to stand on its own. The raised leg that was wrapped around his calf muscle rubs up and down his long leg and there, at that moment, was when Ethan formed his infamous smirk, satisfied with the way your eyes were barely shut, looking downwards to the floor yet your mind was blank, and your panting slows down. Your breathing slowly goes back to normal, as evident by the loss of depth in the rising of your chest, all noticed by his eyes glazing over you, appreciating the pure image of euphoria as you emulated the perfect image of the goddess of sex and lust. Pulling you back in from your leaned state, your face remained slightly turned to the side as you continued to recover from your high, a hard and compassionate kiss is placed on your cheek, amongst the hair that framed your face.

Hearing him take a deep inhale from the scent of your strands, his hands finally release your arms and, embraces you. With your arms remaining pinned against your sides, he traps you in and nuzzles his face into your neck as he satisfyingly moans into your skin, placing soft and ginger kisses. Feeling the loss of strength all over, to include your neck, your head leans back, as you took advantage of his hold on you since you still were not strong enough to stand on your own. A chill travels up your spine as you felt his smirk growing sinisterly wider, you could tell as you felt his lips stretch and his teeth lay against your throat. A deep and low chuckle comes out from that smirk, through his teeth and vibrates against your skin. That’s when you started to realize that Ethan’s presence has changed since you first met that side of him, he has become bolder and daring. Compared to Heeseung he was twisted and sinisterly vile, however, these traits were becoming more magnified and intense. Before, it almost seemed like Ethan was only willing to show off those traits subtly behind closed doors, but now, it was nearly risky to be anywhere in public with him, considering he has not only fucked you in close proximity of sleeping friends during the trip to the valley, but now there’s the act of what had just transpired. You couldn’t tell if you had liked it or feared it; this dangerous and edgy side of him that was becoming more fluent was thrilling and yet, that smirk of his, which only formulated whenever you became vulnerable, the flash image of his face comes to your mind the moment you caught a speedy glance at his expression. That smirk, that look, and that expression on his face, there was something different about it, almost as if he was…

“Oh my God Ethan! Is that you?”

A woman’s voice pierces from behind Ethan, snapping you out of your thought process as you barely peeked over his shoulder while feeling his head turn to look behind. Noticing that his persona hadn’t changed back to Heeseung, you looked up and observed Ethan’s face as he made eye contact with the girl that called out to him. He looked unimpressed, in fact, he almost looked somewhat annoyed or bothered by the way his expression went from displaying an amused smirk to an aloof one. Breaking your view from his face, you look over to see and noticed that the girl that greeted him was the same one you saw in the hallway earlier in the week, the one that had glared at you. Remaining composed, you stayed quiet and unexpressive as you continued to look at the girl, who stood looking dolled up, standing with her hip sticking out, both hands placed firmly on each side as she smiles at him.

“I knew it was you, your height and broad shoulders gave it away.” She laughs out loud as she seemingly gave off subtle compliments to Ethan, which didn’t faze him one bit. Though it was typical for him to say few words, it was a bit unusual to watch as he didn’t greet or verbally acknowledged the girl’s presence, instead he only looked at her with tiresome eyes.

The girl kept her smile intact as she switches her gaze over to you, displaying enthusiasm she extends her arm as if she was presenting you as an award, while gasping as she spoke out.

“Oh! Is this the new one? Oh my gosh so sorry, that came out rude, I meant new girlfriend, since I heard about you and the other young girl. What was her name again?”

Clearly the girl was just as brazen as she was the day you saw her on campus, her attitude as she feigned being pleasantly surprised by “meeting” his girlfriend, knowing full well that she remembers you. Despite it all, Ethan finally spoke to the girl, in his usual calm and low voice, although this time there was a hint of disinterest in his tone.

“Vicky.”

“Ah! Right, Vicky, she was a freshman when we were seniors right? Now it’s all coming back to me.” She shyly laughs off as she turns to you and begins to introduce herself.

“Hi, I’m Tiffany, but people call me Tiff. What’s yours?”

You slowly opened your mouth to answer, but the sudden tug around your waist from Ethan’s pull clashed your body to his as he reaches up and cradles his hand over your head, gently pressing your head to lay against his chest. You hear his heart beating as you stood there, taking note that he didn’t feel it necessary for you to interact with Tiff.

“We have to go meet up with some friends. I’ll introduce you some other time.”

And just like that, Ethan pulls you away while mainlining your body close to his, leading you to the area where Emily, Jake, and the group were all mingling and drinking. Tiff didn’t seem like a pleasing person to interact with, obvious and overdramatic with her feigning personality, yet you were curious as to why Ethan, or rather, Heeseung, or maybe both were so adamant about you not responding to her. His posture and lack of eye contact gave off the vibe that it wasn’t the best time to ask about it, especially seeing as how Ethan’s persona remained, not switching back over to Heeseung’s side. Regardless of being the two sides of the same coin, you had spent more time, in general, with Heeseung’s personality over his Ethan side. Only experiencing him every other time you had intercourse, you really didn’t know much about the Ethan face. Although, from how he displayed himself so far, he was very different from Heeseung’s soft side. Ethan was domineering, possessive, aggressive, and almost controlling.

In fact, Ethan stuck around nearly the entire time you both were out. There were some things you noticed about him, some traits that he shares with his Heeseung side, yet there were some additions to those traits, like how he not only stayed by your side as his other persona would, he would also have a firm hold around your waist, your wrist, or at one point, he even had his hand gently wrapped around your neck, pulling you in to him whenever you were within one arm’s distance, which according to his discretion, was too far for you to be away from him. The man always wanted you up close and within hand’s reach it had seemed like.

There was also the tendency he had whenever he would glare or stare down at whomever tried to interact with you or bump into you. You started to wonder what his reaction would have been had anyone looked at you in a suggestive manner or attempted to touch you, he was so territorial and abrasive, that even Jake, Emily, the girl’s, and their partners glanced over at you at some point during the evening with a concerning look whenever he wasn’t looking. It was a side that you had never seen him display towards Vicky and was entirely new to you. A flashback of a previous conversation between you and Heeseung emerged. The situation had reminded you of the time when you were genuinely curious about his choice in dictating what name he would want you to call him by whenever you both became intimate, a conversation you initiated right after the incident with Samuel.

“Heeseung?”

“Mmhm?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

Smirking and slightly scoffing at your politeness of asking a question to just ask one, he reaches over and gently held your chin, reaching up with his thumb as he pressed your lips and gently rubbed them.

“You know you don’t need to ask; you can feel free to speak your mind whenever you want, pretty baby.” He kisses the air, towards you, while staring into your eyes.

Feeling comfortable, you smile shyly and looked down before turning to face him and began asking about the name switch. You inquired and hinted that it almost felt like he had a dual personality or an alter ego, in which he responded affirmatively.

“Yeah, its…I don’t know. That side of me has been around, since I was a kid really.” He sighed and stretched as he answered, preparing to explain in more detail to help you better understand him.

“All my life, I had to deal with having two sides of me. But since I realized it as a kid, I was able to develop a balance, like a medium in between the two, but most times I like being this way. “He” only comes out partially here and there from time to time whenever there is tension or, I don’t know, when I’m over excited or maybe angry.” At the last bit of his sentence, he turned his face towards you as he smiled, almost shyly, it was the first time you saw him somewhat flustered although it was just a hint of it in his expression. He was so good at maintaining composure that this very little bit of him being flush was probably the only time you’ll ever see it.

“Has…that side of you ever came out in full…like have you ever found yourself completely switched over?” You asked, obviously inquiring with the image of him in mind during the time when he confronted Samuel, administered rough sex with you in front of him, but most notably, was when he put you in your place that moment when he re-iterated sternly to trust him, all while glaring at you in a manner that he’s never done before. The moment right before he strapped your ex down on that chair, rendered him immobile, stripping and bringing out a side of you that you’re still trying to figure out.

Looking down at his crossed arms as he sat still next to you, his knee bouncing up and down, he answers your question while gazing at the wall before him, sometimes shifting his sight to the ceiling.

“Not yet, but I feel like it will happen.”

You were legitimately surprised, the way he was in front of Samuel surely made you think that that was Ethan one hundred percent. Voicing that, Heeseung shook his head slightly and further elaborated.

“Nah…I was still there. But that was the most my other side ever came out, but I wouldn’t say it was near a full switch. I made sure to still have some control over that.” His last bit of the sentence drifted off, along with his gaze as he became pensive, almost as if he had more to say but refrained, like he was keeping a secret.

“You seem like you’re afraid of that side, or maybe I’m misreading you right now.” You followed suit in drifting off and becoming pensive, the conversation led you both into a spiral of shared moments where the truth of your minds was spoken out, with no shame or fear of saying too much.

“No, not afraid, not of him. More like, scared of what he would do if I let him take over. I’ll feel him, whenever he does want to come out, and when that happens-“ Heeseung paused as he squinted his eyes shut and rubbed the temples of his hand while his other arm remained crossed over his chest, looking as if he was developing a headache. You were about to tell him that it was okay to not say any more than he wanted but he willfully continued.

“Depending on the situation, if I start to feel angry that’s when I must really focus and be careful to not give him full reign. To be honest, that’s something I haven’t ever experienced so it can be a struggle trying to master that balance, normally I’ve only had a little bit of him come out. It’s never been like this before.”

Intrigued, you asked him if he knew why or had any thoughts as to why the change. His eyes re-open, he stops rubbing his temples as he goes back to crossing his arms fully and looks over to you with heavy lids, and softly answers, taking your breath away.

“You. It all started after I met you.”

You looked at him wide eyed, his answer caused your breath to hitch as you displayed a look of slight guilt, to which he was quick to ease and reassure you by reach a hand over and grabbing yours.

“It’s not a bad thing y/n.”

He paused and looked down at the ground, a very subtle, faint, smirk appeared on his lips, at least you think it was. It was so faint, that it was hard to tell. Yet, you remained quiet and allowed him to continue, this being the only conversation since knowing him where so much has been said, and he was fully opening without being vague or quiet like he normally would.

“I became a madman the day I saw you. You know that? You didn’t see me, but I saw you, before I came by the dorm that day and met you through Vicky. I don’t know why, but a lot of things were going through my head, and urges. Some good and some bad.”

The moment he said “bad”, you felt his grip around your hand tighten.

“I had this urge to be with you, protect you, love you, and shelter you. I kept thinking and asking myself how it was possible for two normal people to come together, just like the rest of our parents, and yet they were able to make something that was nothing like us. You are really something, you know that? I don’t know if they should make a monument of you, or name a worldly feature after you, but something should be done because you’re out of this world; your face, voice, hair, eyes, and your personality, just everything. I couldn’t stop thinking y/n, I could not stop thinking about you, for days.” His eyes widened as he recounted his memory of seeing you, all while still looking down at the floor beneath his feet. You felt the rush of heat and blood floored through your cheeks and the tips of your fingers as you witness the man before you express how enamored he was just at the sight of you. Just as you felt overwhelmingly flustered, he continued.

“The other urges I felt, the bad ones, are a lot different though. I’ll never hurt you, I’ll never let anything happen to you. But I can’t sit here and lie, after seeing you, I thought you were so beautiful to begin with, but wondered how much more gorgeous you would look when crying. How much more beautiful your face would look if it was sad, I had this urge to break you, and ruin you. I wanted to do a lot of things to you, just to see you cry and hear you scream out of frustration, pain, and pleasure, and from time to time, I still do. That’s when I know, that’s him talking. It wasn’t just me who fell in love with you, my other half did too, but I already know, he understands, and expresses love in a different way. It would scare you, and that’s why I suppress him from ever taking full control. Even though he and I both live for your happiness, we both have a different approach to the same goal.”

Shocked and silent, for the first time you felt scared of Heeseung, even though he was speaking of his other mindset, it still was uneasy for you to hear him say all those things.

He softened his grip on your hand, raised it up and gently kissed it as he looked over to you and smiled.

“Scared?” he nonchalantly asks.

You didn’t answer, not immediately, you tried to refrain from your eyes to get any glossier than they already had become, and you subtly shook your head with a silent “no” coming out as your eyes looked over somewhere else, it was nearly impossible for you to make eye contact that moment.

But he knew you were, of course you were. Anyone would be after hearing a confession like that, but he didn’t take back his confession, it was purely honest, and he knew it was going to have to come out eventually. This was a conversation he was waiting to happen; he was just patient in waiting for whenever you were ready to have it. You recalled that night ending peacefully as he embraced you, kissed you gently, and laid with you until you both fell asleep, waking the next morning acting as if the conversation never happened, you did more so than him, considering you felt uneasy every time you thought of it. Yet, tonight was no exception as you recalled his detailing of Ethan’s mindset, observing and noticing what he was speaking of as it was displayed before your very eyes tonight.

Ethan did want to ruin you, he wanted to break you, and he enjoyed seeing you weakened, in tortuous pleasure and pain, because the entire night a lot more happened aside from his possessive nature and the act he displayed when you both were stuck in the middle of the crowd.

At any point when you and Ethan were left somewhat alone, or isolated in an area that was secluded and ridden with more privacy away from the crowd, his hands would roam. He was forceful and rough as he groped your breasts, slipped his hand under your dress, and insert two of his fingers inside you, kissing you, sucking on your neck, and kissing your ears. The way he rubbed his nose on the side of your head and deeply inhaled your scent, pumping you with his fingers, causing you to drip excessively from the squelching of his thrusts, all of it made you weak in the knees. Yet, you weren’t mad about it, nor were you disgusted by it. You were shocked, but the thrill of his bold behavior and the pleasure he could give to you was too good, both him and Heeseung, were men of magic as they both had their own unique way of bringing immense pleasure to a girl. With Ethan, the pleasure was fast, intense, and not at all systematic like Heeseung, not to mention painful and full of tension. He came off hungry, and almost angry with the way he displayed his ferocity on to your body, only becoming appeased the moment he had you in tears from pure ecstasy and had your legs shaking. A side of a man that is so evil, it was sinfully delicious.

The moment you had both dreaded, and looked forward to finally came when he trapped you in his arms and nuzzled his face into your ear, and with a low growl, he tells you as one hand grabs your center core, fingers pinching the material of your dress against it while his other hand squeezes your hip, fingers digging into you…

“Time to go home, babydoll.”

The smirk on his lips can be felt forming against your ear, and you had a sudden gut feeling that regardless of your desire to either stay or leave, you wouldn’t have a choice.

#heeseung hard hours #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung scenarios #enha x reader #heeseung smut #enha heeseung #heeseung x reader

119 notes · View notes

the-whumpening · 9 months ago

Text

The Freed Tiger | (Ash's Recovery Arc, Part 2)

Prev | Masterpost | Next

CW: mention of knives, potential noncon drugging

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

Ash sits patiently at the rough wooden table in the kitchen, too dazed to think and too tired to protest. Behind him, Krumgus bustles about, chattering absentmindedly as he cooks. In almost no time, a spread of meats, cheeses, and bread are laid out before Ash. He flinches at the abrupt sound of scraping chairs against the hard stone floor; Krumgus and Evius each take a seat at the table as well.

“Yeah, I was a little peckish too, so I made enough for everyone,” Krumgus admits. From around the corner, a nest of pink curls peeks in.

“Did someone make food? Oh!” Mouse’s eyes meet Ash, and she smiles almost apologetically. “Hey, bud—are you . . . Are you doing okay? I thought you were getting a bath?” She slinks into a chair next to him, reaching out but not quite touching his arm.

Evius distracts her with the plate of cheese. “It was . . . a little much for him,” he mutters in explanation. As Ash picks at his food, he catches Evius’ eyes flickering between himself and Mouse. “I thought maybe some food would help.” His brow pinches at the sight of Ash only pushing the food on his plate. “It’s okay, Ash. You can have as much as you want; just . . . please eat something.”

Instructions. He can work with that. If he just does as he’s told, maybe things will be okay. That’s what Faye always said, anyway. His stomach twists at the thought of her—should they have left her behind? Why should he be freed but not her? But then again . . . did she deserve to be free? Did she even want it?

Ash shovels a handful of bread into his mouth, drowning out the thought. It doesn’t matter . . . It’s not like this will be forever, he reminds himself. I can’t let my guard down so quickly.

A glint of silver catches his eye beneath the plate of bread: a knife? He never had the chance to arm himself when he was Ozmund’s prisoner; a part of him wonders if he should take the opportunity. With the exhaustion finally crashing around him, he knows he won’t have enough energy to fight fully-raged. As soon as he has a moment without eyes on him, he swipes the knife and tucks it beneath him in one swift motion. Just in case.

With no immediate threats and his belly finally full, Ash fights to maintain his tight concentration. He was used to long periods of boredom, but Ozmund’s most recent experiment in sleep deprivation left him drained and hesitant to even attempt to doze. Of course, he wonders if he’s not asleep right now—is this the latest vivid dream Ozmund has cooked up to torture him? Ash dreads the mocking he’ll endure when he finally wakes.

He snaps his eyelids back open from where they’d drifted closed against his will. He’s held on so far; he’s certain he can wait this out.

Evius frowns and stands from the table. “Why don’t I make some tea? I still have some of Kane’s herbal mix.”

Ash’s heart aches at the name. In all the time he’d been gone, the memories of Kane helped keep him from sinking under; how he’d regretted letting his mind wander to those comfortable places, allowing Ozmund access to his most cherished thoughts.

When the steaming cup is placed before him, his nose twitches at the smell. Mild, citrusy, distinctly green—it has all the notes he remembers. It’s not perfectly the same, but even Kane’s had variation. He takes a deep sip, trying to enjoy the scent and taste without permitting it to conjure memories. But something is . . . off.

Beneath the familiar honey-and-lemon is a bitterness he recalls all too well. He leaps to his feet, dropping the mug and snagging the knife from beneath his leg.

“Ash! What’s wrong?” Evius throws his hands up defensively. “What are you doing?” Behind him, Mouse scurries backwards, holding her chair in front of her.

Krumgus, as always, is unperturbed. “Why are you threatening Evius with a butter knife?”

Ash glances down at the knife in his hand. In his haste, he’d failed to realize his impromptu weapon was little more than paltry cutlery; he could’ve sworn it was more impressive.

“Just–just stay put, okay?” Evius bargains. “You’re gonna get hurt stepping on the shards. Just put down the knife and let me clean them up, okay?”

Ash’s hands shake with rage and fear as he juts the dull blade forward. He won’t be made a fool of again. Not again. Even as he grows drowsy and begins to sway, his rough voice croaks out, “You . . . You put something in, in my drink! Devil’s herb!”

Evius’ face crumples. “It was just–just coriander and chamomile!” he insists. “I just wanted to help you sleep. No one is trying to hurt you, love. I swear!”

The image of Evius in front of him grows blurry, and he struggles to keep his head aloft. For just a moment, he nearly feels clear and lucid.

“Don’t,” Ash begs, his voice finally breaking. “Don’t do this to me.”

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

#dnd whump #the caged tiger #whump #whump writing #recovery whump #tw knives #tw drugging #the freed tiger #krumgus my beloved #he's just...like that #whumpblr #rublewriting

7 notes · View notes

goodlucktai · 2 years ago

Text

give me something that’ll haunt me when you’re not around

chapter seven: i swear that i would pull you from the tide

rise of the tmnt pairing: leoichi (leonardo / usagi yuichi) word count: 3k title borrowed from line without a hook by ricky montgomery post-movie

(previous) (next)

read on ao3

Yuichi is pissed off.

It’s been most of a week since the incident at the farmhouse, and Leonardo hasn’t answered a single text.

At first, it was alarming. Yuichi’s brain went running in circles around it. Was he okay? Was he in a position where he couldn’t reply? Maybe that flashback had set back his recovery. Maybe Yuichi was the worst person in the entire universe for allowing it to happen.

Then at work Sunita told him she’d been to the lair recently and that Leonardo seemed fine. A little subdued, but not so much so that he couldn’t partake in her surprise birthday party.

Which told Yuichi two things: one, that he’d missed Sunita’s birthday, which he was going to remedy at their favorite boba place in the near future. And two, that Leonardo was avoiding him.

The absolute nerve of that guy!

First, he completely vanishes from the Hidden City after a horrifying invasion of the mortal world and leaves Yuichi wondering what the hell happened to him. Then he returns and unceremoniously takes up every single available square inch of space in Yuichi’s brain and heart, and soul, probably. And now he thinks he can just? Disappear again? And let Yuichi waste his days wondering about him again??

Well, he can go to hell.

Usagi: Hey so

Usagi: I understand that this is a difficult time for your family. And I want to be respectful of that.

Usagi: But Leonardo’s my friend and I need to see him and I am 100% willing to just walk through every tunnel in the NYC underground until I find his house.

Usagi: Or buy a spell from Witch Town to find him for me. I’m not actually allowed to go there but I will.

Yuichi is braced for a fight, or an argument at the very least. He’s pretty sure Leonardo’s family doesn’t like him very much, but he doesn’t take it personally. It really is a difficult time for them, and when he tries to imagine Botan or Sonoko in Leonardo’s position, his hackles go up immediately at the idea of some stranger waltzing in during the aftermath and taking up his precious time with them.

Still. He’s ready to do this. And he really will go to Witch Town if he has to.

But Leonardo’s sister surprises him by not only responding immediately, but enthusiastically. She even seems relieved.

April (Hamato?): oh thank GOD this boy has been driving me up the damn wall

April (Hamato?) has shared a location

April (Hamato?): here. wait topside tho the tunnels can be really confusing at first and if i let you get lost i will literally never hear the end of it for as long as i live

April (Hamato?): i’ll send angie to meet you there. when are you coming?

Usagi: Now. Thank you, April.

April (Hamato?): just get your fluffy butt down there. there’s only so much moping a girl can take

April (Hamato?): 💛

Yuichi owes her a drink. Coffee of her choice. Also, he needs her to change her contact ID.

When he pulls his bike into the sidestreet her location pin indicated and pulls his helmet off, his ears swivel immediately toward a shadowed corner of the alley, so he turns his head in that direction, too.

“Oh, wow,” a vaguely familiar voice says, “you sussed me out that fast?”

The youngest Hamato comes slinking soundlessly out of the dark, all his bright colors incongruent with the way he can seemingly disappear into thin air at free will. His arms are bandaged up to the elbows, crisp white gauze where the stark black wrappings usually sit.

Michelangelo smiles and offers a little wave, approaching at an energetic trot. He’s tiny, but his personality is huge. It’s better suited someone six times his size. Somehow, Yuichi is more intimidated by him than anyone else in Leonardo’s family.

And he’s clearly holding back from him. Even this lively greeting is restrained compared to his usual demeanor, when Yuichi would watch him clown with his brothers at Run of the Mill.

“Hi, Usagi!” Michelangelo says cheerfully enough. “April told me you needed an escort.”

“Thank you,” Yuichi replies carefully.

“She said you weren’t mad about the robot,” Michelangelo goes on. His tone is still bright, but doggedly so, like he’s doing his damnedest to be nice but he’s also ready to drop the act at a moment’s notice and square up. “Is that true? You’re not allowed to come if you’re mad.”

That’s surprising enough that Yuichi blurts, “What? Of course not. If anything, Leonardo should be mad at me.” He plucks at the strap of his helmet, mouth twisting. “I wanted him to have a good day and it turned out horrible.”

Michelangelo stares up at him for what feels like a short eternity. Then he piles forward without warning for a hug. Whatever happened to his arms, they’re still strong enough that they feel like iron bands wrapped around Yuichi’s middle.

Yuichi lets out an involuntary “oof” and stands there stupidly for a second. People aren’t exactly lining up to hug him, given how unapproachable he comes off as. But Yuichi has plenty of practice with his little cousins, and Kitsune when she’s drunk, and Michelangelo is completely little-brother-shaped in a disarming way.

So he tosses his helmet to the ground and lets his arms rest around the top of Michelangelo’s carapace. It feels strange for a second, and then that second passes.

“He likes you so much,” Michelangelo muffles against Yuichi’s shirt. “I’m glad you’re nice.”

Yuichi wants to say He likes me?? but he ignores the dangerous impulse because if he actually asked that he would have no choice but to flee the country. Instead, he says, “‘Nice’?” because that’s equally as baffling.

The spotted turtle leans back to look up at him. His eyes are a little shiny, but his smile is back in full-force. “Yeah, the kind of nice that actually matters. Anyway, come on! Let’s go! We didn’t tell Leon you were coming. That’s what he gets for trying to self-sabotage.”

Yuichi admits, “I am a little mad about that.”

“Ugh, dude, tell me about it! I was like two hours away from staging an intervention.” Those bright brown eyes dart past him to his bike. “Hey, let’s take your bike. I can show you were the garage entrance is, so you don’t have to leave it up here.”

Deciding the best thing he can do in this whirlwind is just hang on for the ride, Yuichi smiles back. “That’d be great, thanks.”

“Can I drive?” Michelangelo asks innocently.

Yuichi squints at him. “No.”

It takes all of three minutes for Michelangelo to wear him down. Yuichi resigns himself to the passenger seat and decides Leonardo actually wasn’t exaggerating about those baby brother privileges.

By the time they get to the repurposed subway station that seems to serve as the Hamato clan’s home, Yuichi is hopelessly lost somewhere in the Manhattan underground. Michelangelo did his best to point out helpful markers, but it will definitely take a few trips before Yuichi is at all comfortable managing the route on his own.

“This way, this way,” Michelangelo says eagerly. “He’s probably still in his room. He won’t come out unless Raph, like, physically carries him out.”

So—moping, according to April, and holed up, according to Michelangelo. It sounds like exactly the same way Yuichi has been spending the last several days, minus the interludes of forced productivity at work.

On one hand, Yuichi is sort of inappropriately relieved he’s not the only miserable party here. On the other hand, Leonardo is miserable over something he had absolutely no control over, something that was in no conceivable way his fault. That’s nothing to feel relieved about.

Michelangelo leads him across the cozy, lived-in station to one of the subway cars sitting stationary on the tracks. The cars must serve as their respective bedrooms, because Michelangelo lifts a finger to his mouth in the universal gesture of be quiet, and creeps with exaggerated stealth toward the open doors.

Yuichi peeks through the long window, eager to get a glimpse of his friend’s life. There are string lights up on the walls, illuminating movie posters and colorful artwork all signed with a stylized M and a smiley. The shelves are stocked full of action figures and trophies and an even mix of medical textbooks and comic books. In one corner, propped up next to a big cabinet arcade game, sits a bright pink and blue skateboard and a battered guitar case.

Leonardo himself is on the bed, cross-legged with his back resting against the wall. There’s a human boy sitting with him. Maybe the one from the videos of the invasion, the one who fought alongside April. He’s leaning comfortably against Leonardo’s good side and holding a Switch so they both can see the screen. Leonardo is using the hand of the arm draped around the human’s shoulders to point something out.

“Shake the trees. Sometimes they drop furniture or bells. Just look out for—oops. Okay, those are wasps.”

“Sensei,” the human says, totally aggrieved.

They both look up at the same time when Michelangelo’s shadow crosses the doorway, before he makes so much as a whisper of sound. Their mannerisms are a perfect mirror of each other, which is sort of an odd thing to see in action.

Even stranger, the human goes still with surprise when he sees Yuichi. Then his whole face lights up.

“Uncle Yui!”

“Eughh boy,” Michelangelo and Leonardo say at the same time.

“Sorry, what’s happening?” Yuichi says blankly.

The human looks mortified a second later, but Leonardo tightens his arm around the boy’s shoulders and doesn’t let the silence settle into something awkward.

“Yeah, so I guess I’m a dad?” he says in a blithe tone. “Only my son is the same age as me, and from a future that no longer exists. You know how it is.”

Yuichi stares at him. This is the last thing he was expecting when he walked into the room.

“I refuse to let you distract me from why I’m here,” he finally says. “But we’re definitely circling back to—that whole situation.”

Michelangelo laughs out loud, bright and clear as a bell.

“This is Casey!” he announces. Then, as if it isn’t at all weird, or maybe because of how weird it is, he adds delightedly, “My nephew!”

Yuichi would be inclined to believe that this was just a joke the brothers were pulling, except that Casey looks earnest and genuinely happy to see him.

He’s heard stories about time gateways. Only real masters of the mystic arts can attempt those, and only with the collaboration of a Time Lord.

Casey doesn’t seem like a mystic master. He’s way too young, for starters. Yuichi wonders who opened the door to send him back. It would have had to have been someone incredible.

“Nice to meet you,” Yuichi says plainly, for lack of better thing to say.

So Leonardo’s—son??—from the future (??) knows him. And seems to think highly of him. The implications of that are doing something squirmy to Yuichi’s stomach. It’s a mostly good feeling.

“You, too,” Casey says. Since his pseudo-siblings are absolutely unwilling to let him feel embarrassed, he musters up a shy smile. “I always wondered how you and sensei met. You guys would make up a different story every time I asked.”

“Oh?” Michelangelo asks with a menacing amount of real interest.

“ANYway,” Leonardo says loudly, then unceremoniously throws the human under the bus. “Casey was just saying he was hungry. Miguel, didn’t you make him some—”

“Ohmigosh, the chocolate-banana muffins!” Michelangelo squares his shoulders and folds his arms, the playfulness bleeding from him. “Hey. Casey, when you’re hungry, you tell somebody. That was the deal.”

Leonardo interjects, “He told me, Doc. That counts.”

“Come on, Mas—Mikey.” Casey sets the Switch down and swings his legs over the side of the bed, hopping to his feet with a level of grace Yuichi doesn’t usually observe in humans. “Can you show me where they are?”

He smiles at Yuichi as he passes him, then grabs Mikey by the shoulders and carts him out of the room. He goes with a lot of unspoken trust in Yuichi’s character, like if there’s anyone Leonardo is safe with, it’s him.

The doors close behind them, and then it’s just Leonardo and Yuichi and the destroyed-farmbotto-shaped elephant in the room.

Leonardo starts to pluck anxiously at his cast. One of the glittery stickers is peeling. His golden eyes dart up, trying to read what’s on Yuichi’s mind from studying his face. Yuichi finds himself thinking, with equal parts exasperation and fondness, that he could just ask.

“I, uh,” Leonardo says, “I should—I want to apologize for the—”

“Finish that thought and I’m going to fight you,” Yuichi cuts him off plainly. “I’ve already explained this in every possible way I can think of, but I’ll try again anyway. The robot does not matter. I break them all the time and no one has ever disowned me.”

He can feel himself relenting in face of the striped turtle’s obvious discomfort. He takes a few steps into the room and sinks into a beanbag chair. Leonardo’s eyes follow him, and when Yuichi nudges their feet together, the hint of a smile touches the corners of his mouth.

“I just hate that it happened,” he admits very quietly.

Either he means the robot, or the invasion, or what happened after the invasion, or all of it all at once. Yuichi doesn’t dare interrupt, not when Leonardo has just taken this brave step forward into seemingly uncharted territory. He just nods to show he’s listening.

“And it feels like. I should, um.” Leonardo’s face twists darkly, anger and hurt and frustration, and he breathes in sharply through his nose, trying to temper it before he even has a chance to really feel it. Yuichi can still hear it in his voice when he says, “I should be better by now. I should be over it. It’s not about me.”

“What the fuck?” Yuichi blurts, sitting forward. “Yes it is.”

Leonardo couldn’t have looked more startled if someone dumped a bucket of ice-water over his head. Yuichi points right at Leonardo’s cracked plastron—that proof of his survival, the most beautiful gods-damned thing in the entire world as far as Yuichi is concerned.

“This,” he says firmly, “is yours.”

For awhile, neither of them speak. There’s music and noise happening somewhere else, Leonardo’s lively siblings hard at work breaching the peace of the otherwise silent underground.

Then Leonardo says, “I don’t like talking about it. But Mikey keeps saying I need to tell somebody. And I guess you’re volunteering.”

As if it isn’t painfully obvious that that’s what Yuichi is doing, when he’s all but begging on his knees for Leonardo to just talk to him. He heroically refrains from rolling his eyes. “I guess so.”

So Leonardo tells him:

“In the prison dimension. The—” He struggles to choke this word out, then finally manages, “The Krang. The general. He was holding me down. I was, uh. I was pretty scared. He was so mad. I don’t even know what he was saying, it was like sliding around in my brain, I couldn’t hold onto anything.”

Yuichi understands that. Those latent animal instincts overriding rational thought, simplifying everything until all that remains is the powerful urge to keep existing. To survive at all costs.

“Um. He leaned in and like—I don’t know, sneered at me—and his teeth were so close and I was so—I wasn’t thinking. I couldn’t breathe, I—” He lifts his hands, helplessly, then lowers them again. “There was rubble underneath me. Sharp metal, all in pieces, from one of his old ships. One of the pieces fit into my hand, and as soon as I had it, I just—I used it.” His voice is so small. “I gouged his eyes out. And then I found a place to hide.”

Oh. It feels like his heart is being ripped clean apart. Yuichi gets up and moves to the bed, sitting close enough to Leonardo that their shoulders bump. His pulse is flying. His stomach feels sour.

“I blinded him. His blood was oily and cold and got all over me. He screamed and rampaged for—hours? Days? I don’t.” Leonardo blinks, far away. “I don’t know. I spent most of my time there hiding. Tucked all the way inside my shell, like a—like a hurt animal. Not much of a hero, huh?”

Somehow, Leonardo is ashamed of himself for this. As if it was cowardly. As if he should have managed to incapacitate a warrior ten times his size and strength in a more honorable way. Like he wanted a nicer truth to give his family.

Yuichi closes his eyes and tries to imagine the prison dimension. Raphael described it haltingly, the glimpse he saw of it through Michelangelo’s portal. Dull grays and ghost ships and an Arctic chill, this horrible place the sun has never touched.

Now he tries to imagine Leonardo there, injured and frightened, all alone with a monster.

He wonders if he would have had the strength of heart and mind to throw himself into hell to protect his friends and family, to save that nebulous concept of “the whole world.” He likes to think he would, but he doesn’t know. How could anybody know until they were there, with the choice in front of them?

Yuichi thinks Leonardo is amazing. He has no idea how Leonardo can think of himself as anything less than amazing. He’s glad the Krang is blind. He would be even more glad if the Krang was dead.

“I don’t like to talk about it,” Leonardo says again, hushed and haunted. “I’m afraid they’ll hate me for it someday. When they’re done being relieved I’m alive.”

I’m in love with an idiot, Yuichi thinks.

Oh, wait.

He’s in love with this idiot.

It isn’t even a surprise. The truth goes down easily, because somewhere along the line he knew that already. Now he’s just—sinking into it. Looking at Leonardo and realizing what this fullness in his chest actually means.

Yuichi was pulled into Leonardo’s orbit from almost day one—the sun and the moon. Months of passing by each other, never speaking, their lives never overlapping. Wanting so badly to approach that full, lively table, second-guessing it every time, always backing out at the last second. The hours and hours he spent agonizing over it. Finally taking the leap. Rewarded impossibly by Leonardo’s interest and curiosity and his smile.

Those precious afternoons in the dining room of the restaraunt, arguing hotly from opposite sides of the same booth, leaning in to put their heads together to watch videos on Leonardo’s phone. Yuichi clinging to Leonardo’s attention, hoarding gold like a miser, because he only ever wanted Leonardo to look at him.

Of course he’d end up here. Where the hell else was he gonna go?

“They would do anything for you,” he hears himself saying. “Do you have any idea how much you mean to them?”

“I do!” Leonardo says quickly. “I just. I’m scared anyway.”

“Tell them that,” Yuichi implores urgently. “Let’s go tell them right now.”

Leonardo stares at him like he’s gone crazy. Yuichi loves him.

“I’ll go with you,” he says, offering his hand. He thinks he’s trembling. His body feels too small to contain the monumental reality he’s just discovered. “You’re not alone, Leo.”

That gets him a choked laugh. Leonardo grabs his hand and holds it almost desperately, as if Yuichi is too good to be true. As if he might do something crazy and impossible if Leonardo lets go, like walk away.

Not in this lifetime. Yuichi never wants to do anything but walk towards Leonardo for all the rest of his days.

They go find his siblings. It isn’t hard, they just have to follow all the noise.

Something chaotic is happening in the kitchen. Michelangelo is perched on Raphael’s carapace, elbows parked on his big brother’s shoulder and chin propped in his hands to watch the show. Raphael is trying to gently extract a hot pot of coffee from Donatello’s hands and Donatello is trying to drink from it directly. Casey is sitting on the counter, eating a huge lopsided muffin with an expression of doe-eyed wonder on his face.

They all look up when Leonardo and Yuichi come in. Leonardo’s step falters under the sudden scrutiny. He clutches Yuichi’s hand tighter, his grip bruising. Like somehow—somehow—Yuichi’s presence beside him makes him feel brave.

It’s okay, Yuichi tries to tell him, squeezing back. I’m not going anywhere.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #leoichi #usagi yuichi #hamato leonardo #hamato michelangelo #bushido boyfriends #my writing #tmnt fic #these bright blue city lights

39 notes · View notes

koolkat9 · 1 year ago

Text

GerEng Week 2023 - Day 4

@gereng-week

Prompt: Secret Agents || Overworking

Rating: T

Pairing: GerEng

Word Count: 1560

Read on AO3

You and Me

Ludwig had always known what he was putting on the line when he got into the spy business. The danger, the secrecy, all work no play. And he had been happy with that. Work always had come first in his life anyway, and he was being useful keeping people safe, not to mention the adrenaline high that came with every mission.

But then he was paired with a top British spy. Then he fell in love with that British spy. Then he confessed to said spy because he thought they were going to die. And in the biggest turn of events, the British spy–Arthur–returned his feelings.

Suddenly there was something more than work, something more exhilarating than adrenaline. Life was fuller, and Ludwig was happier than he thought possible.

Until everything came crashing down, literally.

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Some mid-tier art thief. Ludwig had been taking a lot of these kinds of low-risk assignments. Perhaps it was that brush with death that put things into perspective, or maybe now he had a future to be thinking about beyond work.

Ludwig had done many missions like that in his early years in the field. Perhaps that had lulled into a false sense of security. Perhaps that’s why he didn’t hear the beeping of the bomb until it was too late.

His legs were never the same after that. He was lucky to be able to walk at all, but he could only go a short distance before his legs started to lock up. He could never return to the world of espionage.

It was hard at first, but now that he wasn’t a German super spy, he could move in with his lover in England. If it wasn’t for Arthur and the three dogs they got together, Ludwig couldn’t imagine how that period of recovery would have gone otherwise.

Ludwig settled into the role of house husband as Arthur continued his spy work. It was surprisingly fulfilling, though Ludwig always enjoyed cleaning and baking. Now he had more time for his hobbies, to have pets, things he didn’t know he longed for.

It was close to perfect except…

“Are you sure you’re okay staying home? Are you sure you’re okay alone here for weeks?”

Even Ludwig knew what Arthur meant: “Do you miss it? Are you unhappy without spy work?”

Ludwig wasn’t. In the beginning, yes he missed it, and it was a hard pill to swallow knowing he could never go back. But once he started, it grew on him. And this way, he could ensure he would always be there for Arthur, their future was less uncertain. Yet Arthur failed to see it all.

But still, they were happy.

Until Ludwig started to realize the heaviness in Arthur’s shoulders, the bags under his eyes. They were going out less and less during the periods Arthur was off, but the worst of it was the bruises and marks Ludwig began to spot. Sure minor injuries were to be expected, but not this often. Whenever he caught a glimpse of one it made him sick. Who knew what kind of danger Arthur was narrowly escaping?

When would Arthur’s luck run out like Ludwig’s did?

So after a month-long mission, Ludwig prepared one a roast, a recipe Arthur’s mother had taught him early on in the relationship alongside a homemade angel food cake for dessert.

“Lud? I’m home,” Arthur called.

“In the kitchen.”

Arms slinked around Ludwig’s waist as he put the last touches on the cake. Arthur tried to swipe some of the icing, only for Ludwig to hit his hand.

“Dinner first,” Ludwig tisked.

“Fine…”

With dinner eaten and moving on to cake, Ludwig finally spoke up. He had been rehearsing it in his head all day. Taking a breath he began:

“Have you…ever considered…maybe giving up espionage and finally settling down?”

Arthur’s fork clattered to the table. “What?”

“Give up espionage and–”

“No.”

“But–”

“How could you even ask that? You know how much I love this job.”

“And I loved it too, but Arthur, I should know better than anyone how dangerous this is. We’re starting to build a life together but–”

“This has been my dream since I was young. I can’t just throw it all away?”

“So I’m not worth it?” The words were leaving Ludwig’s mouth before he could even process it.

“That’s not what I–”

“It was my dream too, and you know it. But is it really worth the risk? I’m happy now. Knowing that I have something beyond work. That I actually have a set future. No more uncertainty. And I want to marry you someday, but I can’t do that when--”

Ludwig wouldn’t remember the words exchanged, but they both had said things that hurt, things they didn’t mean, and in their anger, it only made it hurt more.

“It was just a suggestion,” Ludwig whispered sharply, putting an end to the conversation. “Do what you want. I’m going to bed.”

Arthur didn’t argue or protest, he just huffed off to his study.

— — —

Arthur didn’t go to bed that night. He decided to camp out on the couch so both he and Ludwig could cool off.

As he stared at the ceiling, Ludwig's words echoed in his mind.

Ludwig wasn’t meant to live.

After the explosion, doctors said he had a slim chance of ever coming off life support. Those days, waiting, praying, were all a blur, but Arthur would never forget the day Ludwig had opened his eyes, finally squeezing his hand back. Arthur couldn’t remember the last time he had been that happy.

Ludwig wasn’t meant to walk again. But with a great physio team and his unwavering desire to keep himself moving, he had beaten the odds. He couldn’t travel long distances now without a cane or a wheelchair, but he could walk. He could do housework. He could even go for short jogs around the block.

Ludwig was lucky. Arthur would probably not be as lucky.

Being a spy had been Arthur’s dream since he first saw them in movies. It was everything he wanted to be: charming, cunning, clever, a true gentleman who also helped keep people safe. But now there was Ludwig. Someone who loved him. Someone who cared for him. Someone afraid of losing him. And the more Arthur thought about it, he didn’t want to lose Ludwig either.

How could they ever start to build a life together while Arthur was gallivanting about the world, no contact with loved ones for weeks, even months, not knowing if he’d get home alive?

How would Ludwig have felt if Arthur was the one who ended up in the hospital, a hair from death?

Arthur didn’t get much sleep that night.

— — —

The smell of bacon grease seeped into his nostrils, waking him up with a comforting warmth. Arthur’s stomach growled as he stretched.

Cautiously, he approached the kitchen. Even after all these years and all his spy training, he couldn’t read Ludwig. He often looked troubled even when he wasn’t, with furrowed brows, and lips drawn in a thin line. But he could at least sense Ludwig was still upset.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur murmured, “I didn’t mean anything I said yesterday. I know you aren’t trying to crush my dream. I–”

“I’m sorry for losing my temper.”

“You had every right to.”

Ludwig shrugged. “It didn’t help the situation. And it’s not my place to stop you from continuing to pursue your dream.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Arthur went on, arms wrapping around Ludwig’s waist, chin just barely reaching to rest on Ludwig’s shoulder. “I’ve been in this field for almost a decade. Many would say I’ve already reached my dream of being a spy. And I think they’re right. I can’t really climb any higher without getting taken out of field work, which was the only position I could see myself in. I think I need a new dream.”

Hands trailed along Ludwig’s abdomen. Ludwig took in a sharp breath.

Arthur smirked. Such a sensitive spot. He must have gotten soft in his years at home or perhaps it was a show of trust. “As I was saying. My new dream is you, me, a little cottage in the countryside, safe and sound. No running around the world, no brushes with death, just you and me, the dogs. We can get married. Whatever we want. Together.”

“Maybe you should be a romance writer,” Ludwig teased though he leaned back into the hold. “With all those sappy lines.”

Arthur pursed his lips. He knew Ludwig meant to taunt him, but becoming an author didn’t sound half bad. He had always liked writing as a hobby. Perhaps now he could use that.

“That can be decided at a later time. Right now, I have a lot to make up to you.”

Arthur nuzzled Ludwig’s neck before nipping at it lightly.

Ludwig steeled himself, suddenly pulling away to set up Arthur’s plate. “Breakfast first.”

“Then all day in bed,” Arthur smirked.

Ludwig let out a dramatic groan. “I guess.” But Arthur knew better. The small curl of Ludwig’s lip, the faint blush. The glint in his eye. How could he ever leave this for months on end?

“I love you,” Arthur whispered.

“I love you too. Now eat.”

#hetalia #hws #gereng week #gereng week 2023 #gereng #geruk #engger #hws england #hws germany #spy au #fanfiction #hetalia fanfiction #my writing

9 notes · View notes

ourflaghashands · 1 year ago

Text

just wip things

a spicy scene from Pitch Black that I was too impatient to wait for 😂 (don't worry, I'm still working on chapter 4)

Read under the cut!

(I don't write spicy stuff very often so I'm sorry if it's wonky :'D)

Izzy paces back and forth across the captain’s cabin. It’s well past the point when Stede said he would be joining him, and Izzy is dying for an explanation. He hadn’t done anything wrong. At least, not really. But Izzy can still see Stede’s face, pinched and anxious, and the authoritative voice pouring out of him still rings in Izzy’s ears. He doesn’t know what to expect when Stede finally joins him.

He manages to get in a few more laps before the door opens with a gentle click and Stede walks inside, looking pale and drawn.

“How’s Frenchie?” Izzy asks, before anything else can be said. Stede puts up a hand momentarily before divesting himself of his coat. He sinks into one of the armchairs with a sigh. “He’ll be fine. Might need stitches, but Roach assured me he’d make a full recovery.”

Something in Izzy’s chest unclenches. He knows that it wasn’t his fault, but he had a sense of responsibility for the crew. He was supposed to make sure they were prepared for everything, and Frenchie’s sword work had never been his strength. Perhaps Izzy would have to fix that.

“Good.” Izzy murmurs, just loud enough for Stede to hear. He doesn’t want anyone to think he’s gone soft, so he adds, “It’d be a shame to lose the only bard on the ship.”

Stede snorts, slightly undignified, and the response says more about how exhausted he is than his looks. Izzy slinks over to him. “What was it you wanted to speak to me about?” He can’t just sit here and wonder any longer – the unknown is driving him insane.

“I’m under no illusion about your abilities with a sword, Israel, but even you have to realize you were way in over your head. Why did you put yourself in that position?” Bonnet’s words strike something in Izzy, drawing up memories of the night of The Incident with Edward.

Izzy swallows, looking down at his feet. “I couldn’t let anything happen to my Captain.” He responds easily, because it’s true – even if he and Edward still aren’t entirely in good standing with each other, Izzy still can’t bear the thought of losing him. He’s been the one constant in Izzy’s life. The single port in a storm for as long as he can remember.

“I understand. And I do thank you for helping him. But next time you shouldn’t go in alone like that.” And Izzy knows Bonnet is right, loath as he is to admit it. Izzy has always been Edward’s attack dog, his sword, an extension of the legend himself, but Blackbeard’s reputation isn’t unfounded. Ed probably would have been okay if Izzy hadn’t jumped in like that, but taking the risk of finding out was too terrifying to give thought to.

Izzy finally crosses the room to Stede and sinks to the floor, resting his forehead against one of the Alpha’s knees. “I’m sorry for making you worry.” He bites the words out, because this sort of vulnerability is still new to him. Bonnet makes a noise, somewhat like a scoff but too gentle, and cards his fingers through Izzy’s hair.

“You’re okay, darling. I’m just glad nothing happened.” As calm as Stede sounds, the memory of his furious gaze is still Fresh in Izzy’s mind, and it draws a submissive whine from the omega’s throat.

“None of that, now.” Bonnet murmurs, reaching down and forcing Izzy’s face up. He leans down and presses their lips together, all gentle. Izzy lets himself melt into it, lets Bonnet deepen the kiss and explore his mouth with his tongue. He takes what he’s given and nothing more, until Bonnet breaks the kiss. Izzy’s tongue darts out to wet his own lips.

He’s still tense, despite the fact that Stede seems to have forgiven him. There’s always been a balance to Izzy’s experiences, and right now the scales feel tipped. He had upset Stede, he knows he had, but there’s no follow up. No retribution. It leaves something in him unsettled, and Izzy doesn’t like it.

“What if I…” He trails off, before he realizes how messed up that thought process is, and he feels his face go warm.

“What if you what?” Bonnet prompts. His hand is still in Izzy’s hair, scratching soothing circles into his scalp. It’s almost distracting enough to make the omega lose his train of thought. He feels his face pinching together like he’s just eaten a lemon. How does he voice the problem without sounding absolutely mental?

He’s never been good with words. That’s always been one of his shortcomings.

“I…you can’t just forgive me, Stede. I saw how angry you were.” Izzy doesn’t look Stede in the eyes, focusing his attention on a fold in the Alpha’s shirt.

“I just did.” Stede says, nonplussed. Izzy fights down a groan, shaking his head and nearly dislodging Stede’s hand.

“I don’t want you to.” Izzy clarifies, feeling his face grow hotter. “I need you to follow through.”

There’s a long moment of silence, before Stede makes a soft noise of understanding. “You…want to be punished.” It isn’t a question, but Izzy nods a confirmation all the same. Shame wells up in the pit of his stomach because he knows it’s not normal of him, but he can’t help the way he is. A lifetime of conditioning, quid-pro-quo, an eye for an eye – whatever you want to call it – has made it impossible for Izzy to leave things feeling unfinished, especially when it comes to those who have earned his respect.

And, despite everything, Stede has earned it.

Stede hums thoughtfully, his hand leaving Izzy’s hair. Izzy fights down a soft noise of disappointment – he hasn’t earned that affection yet. There’s a lingering silence, and Izzy’s nerves fray just a little more as time stretches on between them. He feels like he’s about to burst when Stede finally addresses him.

“What if you made it up to me?” Stede asks, and Izzy finally raises his eyes to look the Alpha in the face. It’s a decent proposal – Stede seems hesitant to actually punish him, never seems to really want to unless he’s truly angry, but his eyes are bright, and Izzy thinks he can work with this.

“…Yeah, alright.” He concedes, the tension in his shoulders receding a bit. He will earn his forgiveness. That’s acceptable.

“Come here, darling.” Stede urges Izzy up with his hands, and Izzy rises from the floor, clambering into Stede’s lap and straddling his thighs, his feet hanging over the edge of the seat. Stede pulls him into a heated kiss, and Izzy can feel that the Alpha is already half-hard in his trousers. Something in Izzy’s stomach squirms pleasantly at the thought. It could have been the excitement of the raid, but Izzy likes the thought that their proximity is what’s doing it.

Stede kisses Izzy until he’s breathless, delirious and pliant under the Alpha’s hands. The hard line of Stede’s cock is pressing into the space between them, and Izzy’s hips roll forward into the bulk of it, making Stede hiss into his mouth.

“Strip for me, Darling.” Stede’s voice is rough, and tinged with the steel of command that Izzy is helpless to disobey. He carefully extricates himself from Stede, removing his clothing one piece at a time. His cravat and ring are first, and he places them carefully on the nearby table. His vest, shirt, and pants are quick to follow, before Izzy peels off his smalls. They’re damp, and he knows he won’t be putting them back on until they’ve been washed.

Stede rises from the chair, grabbing a cushion off of the nearby chaise and depositing it onto the floor. “Kneel there, and wait for me.” He says, no-nonsense. Izzy sinks to his knees on the cushion, glad of the padding. He’s not as young as he used to be, after all.

Stede busies himself, grabbing a few things from around the room before going into the washroom for several minutes. Izzy remains where he is, letting the calm warmth of obeying the orders given to him wash over him. He’s drifting, mind pleasantly fuzzy, and the burning need between his thighs is only a distant bother.

He loses track of time, and nearly jolts out of that fuzzy space when Stede returns, carrying a basin and wearing a robe that does absolutely nothing to hide his straining erection. He places the basin and a cloth down on the table, before turning his attention back to Izzy. He pets a hand through his hair, humming pleasantly.

“Good boy, Izzy. So patient for me.” He rumbles, and it’s enough to make Izzy’s legs shake where they’re still holding him up. Stede reaches down and presses the pad of his thumb against Izzy’s lower lip, and Izzy’s mouth falls open obediently. Stede presses the digit flat to Izzy’s tongue, holding his mouth open.

“Will this be alright for you? If I use your mouth?” Stede asks, and Izzy whines at the promise of it, nodding his head just slightly so as not to dislodge the Alpha’s hand. The consent seems enthusiastic enough for Stede, because he removes his thumb and tugs his robe open. His cock is standing at attention, rock-hard and glistening at the tip. Izzy feels his mouth water, but doesn’t close it.

Stede shifts closer, letting just the tip rest against Izzy’s tongue. He shifts his hips, dragging it back and forth against the plain of it, before slowly pushing in. His thrusts are shallow at first, presumably to let Izzy get used to the feel of it, before he pushes deeper. Izzy can feel the tip of it hitting the back of his throat before long, and subtly tilts his head to give the Alpha a better angle, breathing through his nose.

Stede sets up a slow, lazy rhythm, giving Izzy time to pull in little puffs of breath between each thrust. It’s a torturously slow pace, but the repetitiveness of it drives Izzy to heights he didn’t know he could reach. The weight of Stede on his tongue, the control of it, and the knowledge that he’s being used by Stede to chase his own pleasure tugs him into that fuzzy space once more, and he’s only mildly aware of saliva leaking from the corners of his mouth.

He’s painfully hard himself, and he can feel slick drooling out of him, down between his thighs and onto the cushion below him. He reaches up to hold onto Stede’s hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He doesn’t control the pace – Stede is doing that, but he needs contact, and this is the best way to get it.

Stede seems to read his mind, and one of his hands goes to Izzy’s hair, fingers carding through it and pressing against the base of his skull. Izzy’s eyes slip closed and he loses himself in the sensation of it. The alpha keeps up his carefully controlled pace, and Izzy can feel warmth and pressure building between his thighs; he’s close to coming, his hips twitching slightly against empty air.

It goes on like this, Izzy quickly losing track of time, his own arousal building. Stede’s thrusts are getting a little faster, cutting Izzy’s breathing off at quicker intervals. He’s swallowing around Stede’s cock, willing the Alpha to go deeper. Stede complies, and soon enough he’s fucking into Izzy’s mouth with abandon.

The intensity of it is too much, and Izzy feels the tension between his legs build at a dizzying rate. His thighs flex as he tries to stave it off, but there’s nothing he can do. Heat blooms low in his belly and his hips jerk forwards as he comes, untouched, his cunt clenching rhythmically on absolutely nothing.

He distantly hears Stede swear above him, a choked-off ‘Did you just—’ spilling out of his lips before his hips stutter and he comes down the back of Izzy’s throat. Izzy swallows him down with purpose, sucking gently until Bonnet’s softened cock slides back out of his mouth, leaving him empty. He whines, bereft, and suddenly Stede is on the ground with him, pulling him into a filthy kiss. Izzy doesn’t doubt he can taste himself, his tongue is so far back in the omega’s mouth.

The aftershocks and shaking in his thighs are too much, and Izzy sinks the rest of the way down, a grimace pulling at his lips as he lands in the cold puddle of his own slick. Stede chuckles gently above him, pressing his face down to nuzzle into Izzy’s hair. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He murmurs, before carefully rising to his feet. “Get on the bed.” He says, crossing over to the table to fetch the basin and cloth.

Izzy rises on unsteady legs, making it over to the bed and sitting down heavily. Stede sets the basin down next to the bed and pushes on Izzy’s chest until he’s lying back. Stede goes to work on him, using the damp cloth to clean the slick from his thighs and cunt. The drag of it on his oversensitive nub draws a whimper from him, but he’s too far gone to feel shame for it. Stede makes a soothing sound in the back of his throat, finishing up his work before climbing into the bed next to him.

He pulls Izzy against him and Izzy immediately shoves his nose into the crook of Stede’s neck, scenting him thoroughly. A stuttering purr rumbles up from his chest, unfamiliar but comfortable. He curls up against the Alpha, hoping the noise will be enough to convey his thanks. He no longer feels off-kilter, and he can feel the tug of sleep softening his edges until it pulls him under. He’s vaguely aware of Stede pulling the blanket over both of them, but he’s out like a snuffed candle before much else can register.

#Pitch Black #SteddyHands #Stizzy #technically this is just Stizzy for now #but eventually....#im steddyhands trash so #u know #ABO dynamics #up in this bitch #so beware of that if you haven't ready Pitch Black

2 notes · View notes