#like- have given up on our ankles and knees. if they get destroyed then like…. at least we still have working hands | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

asweetprologue · 4 years ago

Text

me lámh le do lámh - Part VIII

First | Previous | Next | Masterpost

They left the next day just after the sunrise broke watery through the clouds still lingering overhead, not wanting to overstay their welcome. The walk back to the nearby village was an easy one, the air still cool from the recent rain. The innkeeper hadn’t given their pre-paid room away to other guests despite the fact that they hadn’t used it for anything more than storage, which was a surprise. It was noon by the time they made it back, and they were easily able to secure the room for another evening so early in the day. Jaskier agreed to play at dinner, so they even managed to get a slightly reduced rate.

When they made it up to the room, Jaskier flopped immediately down on the bed, throwing an arm over his face. “Melitele, I could sleep for a week,” he groaned, slightly muffled. “I haven’t been this sore in years.”

“Good for you to finally get some exercise,” Geralt smirked as he checked on their belongings. Everything was where they’d left it, luckily. Geralt let out a breath of relief to see his potions all secure in their bag, the oathstone nestled amongst them.

Jaskier lifted his arm enough to glare at him. “As if walking day in and day out at your side isn’t work enough.”

“You’ve ridden Roach more than I have over the last week,” Geralt pointed out.

Jaskier put his arm down, head tilted to the side to look in Geralt’s direction. His hair spilled messily across the pale sheets. “I suppose I have,” he said, a small furrow appearing in his brow. The easy energy he’d had since they’d woken this morning was gone; now he seemed tense. His eyes lost their focus, his mind clearly going elsewhere.

Geralt didn’t know what to make of it. Clearing his throat, he said, “I’m going to go and see if they have any contracts for me. We won’t be stopping much over the next few weeks.”

At this Jaskier refocused, curious. “Where are we going next? We have all the pieces for the ritual, right?”

Geralt nodded. “The last piece is a location. We’re going back to Posada.”

The journey from the Brokilon to the Blue Mountains was one of weeks, rather than days. At this time of year the River Sodden and her many roads were wide open, and they were able to easily pass south under the Mohakams. This far south, spring was already giving way to summer, the warm vestiges of the Nilfgaardian desert winds finding their way to the pockets and hills of Angren and Rivia.

It should have been a pleasant journey. It was one they’d taken many times before, once Nilfgaard was no longer an issue, and they were both well familiar with the area. They kept the river to their south and traveled during the cooler parts of the day, stopping often. The wide river offered a constant source of beauty and convenience, and they were able to wash and fish regularly. Rivia, though not Geralt’s home by any stretch of the imagination, was friendly and offered plenty of places for them to stop and rest at the halfway point.

It should have been downright delightful, but instead it was… tense. Jaskier was quiet and contemplative much of the time, reserved in a way Geralt had rarely known him to be. He barely touched his lute, to the point where Geralt asked after it, only receiving a vague and unconvincing answer about saving the strings from the humidity. He spent the evening hours scribbling away in his journal, or simply lying and staring up at the stars. Sometimes, disconcertingly, he watched Geralt, especially when he seemed to think Geralt wasn’t paying attention. The furrow between his brow had grown to be near constant, and his shoulders had lost their easy swoop. When they spoke, something about Jaskier’s words felt needling, as if he was testing the waters for something. What, Geralt couldn’t even begin to guess.

He wanted to ask about it, but he found himself unable to find the words to do so. Jaskier didn’t seem mad at him—he knew what that looked like well enough, and this wasn’t it. He wanted to ask, but if he did it seemed possible, probably even likely, that Jaskier would admit that he’d figured out that Geralt was hiding something from him. He might even have realized the extent of Geralt’s feelings, or what the ritual really meant. Maybe Silvandrel had said too much, or Geralt had been too expressive, or too generous. Whatever it was, Jaskier was smart, maybe the smartest man Geralt had ever known; it wouldn’t take much for him to put two and two together. As he found Jaskier’s eyes lingering on him more and more frequently, it seemed also more and more likely that Jaskier was just trying to find a way to let him down easily.

Still, it wasn’t unbearable. Traveling with Jaskier in a mood was still better than traveling alone, and as always Geralt relished the chance to spend such uninterrupted time together. It was the best in the evenings, when their camp was already set up and the heat of the day had dispersed, and they had nothing better to do than sit and talk before both of them grew too tired to stay awake.

“What’s it like?” Jaskier asked one evening, lying on his bedroll with his ankle propped up on one raised knee. His lute was in his hands, a rare thing nowadays, but he wasn’t really playing it, just plucking a tune here or there. Testing the waters, it seemed.

Geralt was sitting with his back propped against a ragged tree stump, charred at the top where lightning had once struck. He looked up from where he was examining Roach’s tack, taking too long to reply as he was caught up in the image of Jaskier in the firelight. “What?”

Jaskier swiveled his head to look over at him, looking uncharacteristically pensive. “Being immortal. Or—not mortal. What do you even call a witcher, anyways. Semi-mortal? How long do you usually live? I’ve never gotten a straight answer about it.”

Geralt shrugged, the bridle dangling between his knees as he set his elbows to rest on them. “No one really knows,” he admitted. “Vesemir is… three hundred? We’re not sure, that’s based on references he makes, but Lambert swears sometimes he says things just to throw us off. Witchers don’t really… die of old age.”

“Surely some of you must retire,” Jaskier insisted. “Maybe not lately, but in years past…”

Geralt shook his head. “If they did, I haven’t heard of them. The Path is our life; we meet our end while on it. I know we can live for several human lifetimes, at least. I was older than you are now when we met.”

Jaskier’s mouth twisted in a smile that ached with bitter nostalgia. “I must have looked like a child to you.”

“You were a child,” Geralt laughed.

Jaskier threw something at him, and it bounced harmlessly off his knee. An acorn; the entire area was thick with oak trees. Clearing the ground beneath their bedrolls had been a pain. “Ass,” Jaskier chidded, but he was chuckling too. “I suppose we must all seem rather young to people like you though. Yennefer is the worst, she shouldn’t be allowed to poke fun at my very dignified salt and pepper and then turn around and call me an infant the next moment.”

Young man, Silvandrel had said, with that odd patronization that came only to those who would outlive most people they met. “It’s… not exactly like that,” Geralt allowed, studying Jaskier’s profile painted in orange and gold and dark dusky blue shadows. “Age isn’t the same as experience. There are eighty year olds who have done less in their lives than you had at twenty-three.” Jaskier looked over at him again, with a distinct expression of surprise and awe that Geralt was beginning to recognize as his reaction to Geralt giving him a compliment. He pushed on, turning his own gaze back to the tack in his hands. “I just mean, you don’t seem young, or inexperienced—at least not anymore,” he added, unable to resist throwing Jaskier a quick smirk.

“So Yennefer just calls me a toddler for her own enjoyment,” Jaskier said, squinting at him.

“Well, yes,” Geralt snorted. “But, it’s—you’ll understand. After. It’s not that you all seem young, necessarily, it’s just that you all seem sort of… I don’t know.” He shrugged. It was difficult to articulate the strange sense of fragility and youth that he associated with all humans, no matter their age.

“Temporary?” Jaskier offered, and Geralt grunted an affirmation. Of course Jaskier would be able to identify the feeling without ever experiencing it himself. Jaskier hummed in acknowledgement, and was quiet for a few moments, as if mulling that over. His fingers played over his lute strings, picking out a melancholy tune. After a while, he said, “It sounds a bit lonely. Knowing that almost everyone you meet will die a hundred years before you do. That they’ll never understand the way you view the world.” His eyebrows were knotted together as he contemplated the night sky.

Geralt bit his lip. “It… can be. Even amongst ourselves, we never know who’ll make it back after a year on the Path.”

Jaskier’s foot tapped the empty air where it hung over his knee. “Everyone I know, went to school with, taught with in Oxenfurt. They’ll all be gone before I will, if this works.”

Geralt felt dread unfurl within him, but this wasn’t something that he could deny Jaskier. This was the reality of Geralt’s offer, of what he was asking Jaskier to do. “Yes,” he said. But you’ll have me, he didn’t say, even though it burned at the tip of his tongue. You’ll have my brothers, and Ciri, and even Yennefer, and you’ll have me, always. That’s the point.

Jaskier looked over at him, eyes bright. He looked like he could hear Geralt’s thoughts, like maybe he was thinking the same thing. And then he grinned brightly and said, “I’ll outlast Valdo Marx by a century.”

Geralt couldn’t help the startled bark of laughter that left his throat. Jaskier launched into an excited diatribe against Valdo Marx, something about destroying his legacy after death, and Geralt allowed the babble to wash over him as he went back to fixing Roach’s tack.

After a while the conversation turned to other things, and they spent the rest of the evening in relative quiet. Eventually it was time to bed down for the night, and they banked the fire and crawled into their respective bedrolls. Just as Geralt was on the edge of sleep, Jaskier’s voice slipped through the quiet darkness around them.

“I don’t think I’m going to be.”

Geralt shook himself, turning to squint at Jaskier’s grey form, two aching feet away from him. His entire body itched to roll closer, but he focused instead on Jaskier’s words. “Hmm? You won’t be what?”

Jaskier let out a deep breath into the night air, soft like a secret. “Lonely.”

Posada was much the same.

Geralt didn’t know how long it had been since he’d been back. He knew he had been here post-Filavandrel incident, and he suspected Jaskier had as well, but they’d not returned together to the little valley at the edge of the world since the beginning. It had to have been at least ten years since he’d last been here on his own, but the small town was relatively familiar looking still. It had grown a bit since the war, likely as refugees from the south settled in the area, and there were new houses clustered around the outskirts. Still, the bones of it remained unchanged, and the inn was right where they’d left it.

They said nothing as they made their way into the town and headed in that direction. There was, so far as Geralt knew, no other place to find rooms for the night, so they didn’t have much of a choice. Stepping inside the small downstairs tavern should have been just like stepping into any other of the thousands like it that he’d been in, but it wasn’t. Things had been rearranged, of course; the furniture had been shuffled, and now a long table sat on the far side of the room before the fire. The small, cleared out space that Jaskier had stood in to sing was gone, filled with a cluster of tables and chairs. But the lone table in the back corner was, somehow, unmoved.

Geralt turned to Jaskier and found him staring at the spot as if entranced. He brushed his fingers against Jaskier’s forearm, and the bard blinked at him, startled back into the moment. “We should get a room,” Geralt said by way of explanation, and Jaskier nodded.

The man who arranged for their stay was not the one who had done so the first time, or the time after that, but his features were similar, so perhaps this was a son. He was amiable enough, and though Jaskier didn’t make any commitment to playing he offered them a fair rate.

Jaskier did end up playing, after they’d sat and eaten a quiet meal, avoiding the table in the corner in silent agreement. His fingers had worried at the edge of his lute case for a long moment, his eyes unfocused, and then something determined had steeled over his face and he’d stood.

There was a decent crowd this time around, bigger than the last time—the first time—that Jaskier had played here. Geralt remembered the stumbling notes, the ridiculous stories that spilled from the bard’s lips, unrefined. The way that the patrons of the bar had heckled him until he dipped sheepishly off the stage. He could understand why Jaskier might be nervous about playing here; even if no one remembered him, this had obviously been one of Jaskier’s first real performances for an honest audience.

It was like night and day. Jaskier had the entire room eating out of the palm of his hand in moments, as he always did, and his voice was clear and strong. Geralt recognized most of the songs, and almost all of them were about him, though he didn’t think any of the patrons put two and two together. Whereas Jaskier normally poked and prodded at Geralt throughout a performance to let everyone know that his muse was present, tonight he was subdued, letting Geralt watch quietly from a side table without dragging him into the proceedings. He might have thought that Jaskier had forgotten his presence entirely, if not for the occasional glance he caught Jaskier throwing his way, stealing his breath each time.

When he was finally done with his set and bowed his way out to the cheers of the audience, he made his way back to Geralt with his lute tucked under his arm. Jaskier leaned against the table in the space next to him, their knees just barely touching where Geralt’s was thrust out away from the chair. Jaskier looked down at him with almost a sheepish expression, giving him a quirked smile. “So. Three words or less?”

There were so many things he could say to that. So many things he wanted to say. You’re so beautiful, he thought, his eyes catching on the way Jaskier’s fingers wrapped around the neck of the lute, how his eyes shone in the low light of the inn. I loved it. Don’t leave me. I love you.

Instead, he said, a bit hoarsely, “Definitely more accurate.”

Jaskier laughed, some of that tension he’d been carrying for weeks breaking, and Geralt felt sweet relief at the sound. “Well I’d certainly hope so, after nearly thirty years of tailing you. At the very least I know my drowners from my nekkers.”

“At least there’s that,” Geralt chuckled, passing Jaskier a tankard of ale as he sat. “Glad to see you got something out of it.”

Jaskier took a sip of his drink, leaning his cheek on his fist. His eyes were bright when he looked at Geralt, and his expression was one Geralt recognized—he was bothered about something, but trying to keep his demeanor jovial. On anyone else, Geralt expected it would be an immaculate deception, but Geralt knew him. He wasn’t fooled by Jaskier’s court masks.

“Was it worth it?” Jaskier asked, taking another sip of his ale. His eyes left Geralt’s, flitting around the room.

Geralt frowned at him. “Was what worth it?”

Jaskier looked back at him, expression unreadable. “Letting an ambitious and no doubt obnoxious bard leave this tavern with you all those years ago.”

Geralt couldn’t help it; before he could think to stop himself, he had reached out to set his hand over Jaskier’s where it still held the handle of his cup. Jaskier jerked a bit at the touch, a drop of ale sliding down over their layered hands. “Of course it was,” Geralt said vehemently, not bothering to keep the earnestness out of his tone. Jaskier had to know. Even if he already suspected that something was afoot, even if this was some sort of test, Geralt couldn’t risk letting Jaskier think that he regretted a single moment of it. “You’re… Jask, you’re one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

Geralt could hear the sharp intake of breath at that, could see the way Jaskier looked down at their overlapped fingers and blinked rapidly. A small smile stole across his face, though there was a twist to it that seemed almost sad. “I’m glad, Geralt. Truly.”

Geralt wanted to ask, And for you? Was it worth it? But the tavern goers were quickly heading out now that Jaskier’s set was finished, and it was obvious that they would soon be the last ones remaining. And he found himself afraid, as he so often was nowadays, of the possibility that Jaskier would say no, that he should have spent the last thirty years playing in noble houses and courting beautiful women, rather than trekking endlessly after a surly witcher. He knew that it would make sense for Jaskier to have regrets, but he found that he didn’t think he was strong enough to hear them spoken aloud.

So instead he transferred his touch to Jaskier’s wrist, giving it a light tug. “We should head up,” he said, and Jaskier nodded. They pulled apart, and Jaskier finished his drink, and collected his lute. As they both turned to walk up the stairs, Geralt found his eyes catching once again on the little table in the corner. It had sat empty the entire night, as if waiting for something—or someone—to fill its seats once again.

Almost done folks! Just two more parts, and tomorrow’s includes the last piece of art for this story!

tags: @whereismymonsterlover

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geraltxjaskier #geralt/jaskier #the witcher #witcher #big bang #fic #fanfic #writing #my work #me lamh #geraskierbigbang #multichapter

62 notes · View notes

baldwin-montclair · 4 years ago

Text

The Unlikely Advocate

Roman Holiday Concluded

After bringing her to his home island of Ischia - off the coast of Naples - Baldwin introduces her to the customs of the island, as well as continuing their game of control.

Surprising confessions ensue.

FIRST PART

Tags: @adowbaldwin @butternuggets-blog @sylverdeclermont @lady-lazarus-declermont @ordinarymom1 @thereadersmuse @marirable @pleasereadmeok

“Bella!” The elderly matron appraised the work of her ��priestesses’.

Clad in a white, very light and gauzy fabric chiton pinched in by ribbons, with her hair up in flowers, Eileen barely recognised herself. It seemed like a waste to get so dressed up to stain with the grape juice.

“Liber Pater will be pleased.”

“Baldwin?”

The three young women overseeing her transformation giggled.

“Our patron,” the Priestess explained “the Free Father. He has guarded us for centuries yet has never changed. We tend the fruits he grants us.”

“You think he’s a god?”

“No Senora,” the woman chuckled, “the gods do not answer prayers but he does. When we need him, he has always protected us.”

“I’ve found that,” Eileen smiled, remembering each time he’d come to her aid, “thank you for inviting me to be part of the celebrations?”

“He did not tell you?”

The women exchanged amused glances.

“It is the festival of Proserpina, consort to Liber, we’ve never had one before.”

“A Festival?”

“A Proserpina.”

“Wait, I’m not Baldwin’s consort, I’m just...” she stopped, unsure how to even continue, “this is technically our first date, if it’s even that!”

She wondered for the first time what was actually happening between them.

Friends didn’t seem sufficient, roommates might be closer since she’d been staying in his home for a few days. Roommates with benefits would require them actually being intimate, which is what she’d thought he was suggesting before spiriting her away to his Italian villa.

“I manage an international consortium of wine suppliers and buyers,” the Priestess nodded to the girls, “those are my granddaughters, they are going to Padua University in the fall, we live in the modern world like you. These are traditions we keep because they bring us together, and they are fun. We know what dating is, and the fact that you are our first and only Proserpina should tell you this is not that.”

“So,” Eileen started after a moment of stunned silence, “what is my part in the ceremony?”

“You and your maidens tread the first grapes of the harvest. In your absence they would perform this ritual as your proxies.”

“I’m guessing it’s quite messy?”

“Oh yes it is,” she smiled, “at the end, you will be quite covered. But we have cleaning facilities nearby.”

“High priestess,” Baldwin called from outside the tent, “if I may speak with the lady?”

“Of course pater,” she ushered the excited girls out the other side of the tent “she is ready”.

Eileen felt his gaze wash over her, cool and careful as she continued to look in the mirror.

“See something you like?” She asked.

“What I see is a vision of Venus herself!”

“Not Venus, Proserpina, consort of Liber who is, apparently, you.”

“It’s ceremonial, these are sensible people, they know I’m not really a God.”

“But your consort?” She challenged, catching his eye in the mirror reflection.

The grin held a glint of wolffish amusement as he approached her.

“I thought I would have more time to explain,”

his touch was light over the fabric on her shoulder but the coolness still imprinted on her climate warmed skin, “but our dear matron is much more strict with timing than any that have come before.”

“Explain what?” She asked with a dreamy sigh as he moved his hands to her waist.

“I was born here, the first time, I mean. We were wealthy, maintained the vineyard. I come here on this day every year, it just so happened to coincide with you, being here, with me. Is that fate or coincidence?” He pondered.

“It’s verging on a fairytale is what it is,” she shook her head, “a beautiful meal, two costume changes, a villa on an Italian island AND the opportunity to take part in a centuries old festival. What’s next? Are you planning on stealing the Crown Jewels for me?”

“Those trinkets,” he rolled his eyes, “I could show you stones of such size and rarity that they would destroy the global economy if they were to leave my vault.”

“Is that what you have planned for our next date?”

“Date,” he frowned, “you believe this is a mere date?”

“Honestly, I have no idea, it definitely does not fit the usual definition of ‘let’s go for a meal and awkwardly get to know each other’, but my frame of reference is kinda narrow.”

“Alright, let’s simplify it,” he framed her face in his hands and kissed her deeply, causing her to sigh in contentment, “as per our agreement, you put control in my hands until sunrise, call that our date if you wish.”

“And then?”

“And then, tomorrow, we’ll discuss my plans going forward.”

“Your plans?”

“Yes,” he answered with a bemused look, “that apartment is not safe. You’ll both move into the most secure floor in my building.”

“I can’t,” she choked, “I work from my home office, it’s where I meet my clients.”

“It’s a simple enough matter to redirect correspondence to your new address, and there is office space in the building, away from the living quarters. You can see your clients there.”

“Baldwin, I-“

“It will be your own apartment and I would only cross the threshold if invited to do so.”

“What, like a vampire?” She grinned.

“No, like someone with manners and a healthy grasp of social boundaries.” He retorted.

“Senora,” the woman called, “you are needed.”

“We can discuss the details later, you have a ceremonial duty to perform as my consort.” He teased, leaving the tent and her to her thoughts.

Move into his building? It was too much, too soon under normal circumstances but this was not normal circumstances. She had to consider what was best for Isobel, and the apartment was not safe.

The considerations could be decided later, for that night she was going to have fun, drink wine and not let the spectre of her family ruin her good time.

As it turned out, getting messy and sticky whilst stamping many grapes directly to hell was a much more cathartic and euphoric experience than several rounds with a punching bag.

Luckily there were showers set up to remove the grape entrails, otherwise the rest of the night would be more uncomfortable than it was already likely to be.

Wine.

A simple solution to a complex problem, a nice warm buzz was the goal and she interspersed the wine with water.

Dancing.

The energy of the towns inhabitants was infectious and just as intoxicating as the alcohol. She learned several dances, all the while aware of his Baldwin’s watching over her intermittently as he spent much of the evening on his cellphone.

An attractive, blonde South African male spent some time talking to her, and, being polite, she indulged him in conversation. This abruptly stopped when he placed a hand on her arm in a manner apparently too familiar for the sensibilities of the vampire watching over her, judging by the ice cold focus of his gaze on the site of contact.

The man’s eyes flickered off to the side and he retrieved his hand quickly, excusing himself.

Upon turning, Eileen found Baldwin standing a few feet away, glass in hand.

The festivities showed no sign of abating and after several more dances, Eileen scanned the celebrations for Baldwin but with no immediate success she determined that he would find her, and, enchanted by the gentle sound of the waves lapping against the sand, she followed the shoreline to where it was quieter.

With not another person in sight, she leant against the large, heavy stones making up the beginning of a cave system and removed her shoes.

She wiggled her toes into the warm sand and sighed, then smiled a little at a whimsical desire. Deciding to follow through, she waded ankle deep into the tide and closed her eyes, completely lost in the sensation of peace.

That’s when she felt the focused chill of a vampire’s gaze quicken her pulse.

“Who was he?” Baldwin asked with a silken tone, a few feet behind her.

“No idea,” she turned to look at Baldwin.

There was something different about him and it took her a few seconds to realise he wasn’t wearing his tie, surprising as he didn’t seem like the type who relaxed. But, there he was, leaning against the large heavy rock she had just been using to remove her shoes.

“I was just being friendly.” She shrugged and received no answer.

“You’re not angry because I spoke with him?” She stepped towards him.

He didn’t answer but the look he was giving warned her not to push further.

“Oh you are!” She purred, placing her hands on his broad chest and tiptoed her fingers up to his shoulders playfully.

It was a childish impulse but she felt a tinge of satisfaction from his show of possessiveness.

“Don’t-“

“Don’t what?” She prodded, letting her fingers lace together on the nape of his neck.

“Don’t test me!” He stood completely still, but the evenness of his tone suggested his stature was closer to that of a coiled snake than a prey animal caught in headlights.

“Alright, I won’t,” she turned away from him to look out at the water, “I suppose I could catch up with him, Charlie. He’s handsome, right? Athletic, strong. Probably has quite high stamina.”

“That’s enough!” He warned in a low growl, simultaneously setting off every self-preserving alarm and, perversely, every ‘make-him-snap’ impulse.

“Well obviously it’s not my first choice but since I think you’ve tired of me already, a girl has needs!”

“Be very careful about your next words little witch!”

“You don’t agree with my choice,” she teased, “you can’t just picture him helping me out of this dress, taking me to his bed,” she glanced back for emphasis but found his expression impassive, unreadable, “or maybe he’d want me on my knees first.”

He approached slowly, quietly, and gently placed his hands on her arms before lightly trailing his fingers down.

Surprised by his gentle treatment, given her challenge, she hesitated, ready to apologise for her behaviour.

The tightening grip when he reached her elbows made the words catch in her throat

Suddenly, she was pulled tightly against him, the broad wall of his chest proving an impenetrable barrier against her back as her wrists were captured in one of his hands. The other clasped her throat, instantly making her freeze.

“You are a Percy,” he lightly brushed his lips over her jaw, “that means you have been well warned on the danger of stoking vampire jealousy. Would that be accurate?”

She took a breath to answer but he tsk-ed her with a shake of his head, tightening his grip

“Not a word, just nod if my assessment is accurate.”

She complied.

“Good girl,” he cooed, “I think that pretty little mouth of yours has gotten you into quite enough trouble.”

Her wrists were under his control but her fingers still had agency enough to seek out the front of his pants, lightly running her fingertips across his growing erection, making him groan quietly.

“Not yet.” She again picked up the challenge.

He was just as aroused by providing the rough treat as she was receiving it.

“You play a dangerous game little witch,” he rasped menacingly, releasing her throat momentarily to bind her wrists together with what felt to her like silk.

His tie.

Unable to move enough to touch him and with both of his hands free to do what he willed, she was in the game now.

“I assumed there would be consequences for my disrespect-“

She was cut off by a low chuckle.

“You do not decide what happens this evening, I do,” he warned, “did you think you could provoke me to anger so easily?”

“It’s like you said,” she stammered, not as sure as before, “vampire jealousy.”

“You noticed that I removed my tie before your little piece of theatre, there’s nothing you could have done to cause or prevent this.”

His hands moved to her shoulders and he gently slid the thin straps of her dress down her arm.

“Baldwin,” she protested sharply upon feeling the cool night air brush against her bare breasts, “someone might see!”

He snaked his arm around her waist, holding her tightly to him as he gently nipped at the side of her neck.

The sensation of being trapped was doing interesting things to her body and she willingly leant against him for support, softening into his control.

“There’s no-one even remotely near us,” he reached up with the hand not holding her to him to her chest, letting his index finger circle around the hardening bud of her nipple, “vampire senses come in very handy.”

“There’s no way you can hear,” she gasped at the delicious contact, “the music, the waves.”

“I can hear well enough,” he gave a gentle squeeze at her breast before placing the palm of his hand over her heart, the family signet ring on his pinkie finger somehow colder than him, “but if you’re worried about me being distracted, those are not the main contenders.”

“My heartbeat?”

“Obviously, I’m sure even you can feel it, but even that is a secondary rival for my attention.”

She didn’t reply, not verbally anyway. His words had an effect on her and like she feared he knew, they caused her to press her thighs together, an imperceptible amount to anyone else, but enough to cause him to huff slightly in satisfaction.

“Am I to guess?” She snapped, receiving a sharper nip at the side of her neck.

There was something deeply wrong with her danger senses, she feared, given the fact that she was not only putting her veins on display for a vampire, but that she was deriving pleasure from the activity.

Her trust was rewarded when he put his hand in hers, still tied behind her back.

“It is clear to me that your needs run more extreme than I thought,” his tone was gentle, calm and warm, “just know that if we continue and you push me, I will retaliate but no harder than the nip I just gave you. If you understand and accept then squeeze my hand once, if it goes too far then squeeze twice and we end the game here.”

She squeezed once and he removed his hand from her grasp to wrap it lightly around her throat. From there, he tipped her face up to look over her shoulder at him and captured her lips in a crushing kiss.

She melted against him, the kiss lighting her on fire whilst soothing something wild and afraid within.

She hadn’t even realised that he had undone the fasteners on the back of her dress until the meagre weight of the garment settled on her hips.

From the waist up, she was bare to him, the skirts of the dress still provided some modesty.

With the hand not curved around her throat, he trailed his fingers down her sternum and navel to slip suggestively into the gap between her dress and underwear.

“Good behaviour is rewarded,” he told her between kisses, “do you want to be good for me?”

She nodded, straining for him to kiss her more.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Touch me!”

He smiled a little, hand tightening around her throat as if in response.

“I already am,” he teased, brushing his lips so close to hers but still just out of her reach, “so I must assume...”

Baldwin’s fingers travelled back up towards her navel and she fidgeted in his grasp.

“Be still!” He warned and she somehow managed to contain her movements.

“Aren’t you well behaved!” He taunted before slipping his hand inside her panties, causing her to gasp at the sensation of his cool skin against her warmth.

“I think if I don’t take you soon you may combust!” He murmured, stroking a finger between her folds, slick with desire.

He touched, teased and tested her readiness until she was a writhing, flushed and pliable putty.

In what seemed like a flash, he removed the tie, freeing her arms and turning her to face him.

He kissed her deeply and lifted her with her legs around his waist to the rocks where he effortlessly pinned her between himself and the sun warmed stone.

Pulling her underwear aside, he freed himself from just enough of his own clothes as necessary, then, with a nod of consent, he pushed into her warm, welcoming depth.

“You feel exquisite,” he groaned, pulling back slightly to push back in.

She clutched her fingers in the material of his shirt with the delicious sensation of being filled to the point of almost discomfort.

It had been a long time.

Baldwin gripped her thighs as he took her, hard, seeming to know exactly what she needed and he had her there much faster than anyone before.

“Baldwin” she cried, desperately trying to stop herself tipping over the edge, it was too quick, “I can’t, can’t stop.”

“You needed this, take it,” he kissed her as she shuddered in his arms, “and worry not little witch, this evening is far from over!”

Eileen woke as the sun started it’s ascent higher, 11am, according to the watch on the bedside, the watch still there as it’s vampire wearer himself was still asleep.

His skin was cooling her body under the hot Mediterranean climate, as she rested her cheek against his shoulder. The light cover tested loosely around their waist.

His heart beneath her hand barely beat as his chest rose and fell with shallow breathing.

He smelled tremendous, the Roman style bath he treated her to after their various exertions still bore the scents of the oil he gently cleansed her with, taking care to massage it into shoulders, wrists, anywhere he had earlier bound.

He then masterfully scraped off the oil with the strigil. A very intimate action given they were both naked at the time. A situation that normally might have been a cause of self-consciousness, at that time, after having been so thoroughly worked by his god-like stamina, she could only enjoy his attention.

The last thing she wanted to do was get up, disturb their peace so she huddled closer, her leg rubbing gently against his own, then she felt it brush her thigh.

Hard and cool as the marble in his frigidarium was his proud erection, now free from the confines of the fabric due to her movement.

She knew he was large, intimately so, but the sheer light of day exposed his skill in helping her to take so much of it.

Arousal twisted in her stomach at the sight of his powerful body and, mesmerised, she moved down the bed.

The first few quiet moans from him were gained from taking just the head into her mouth.

He didn’t actually awaken until she was halfway down the shaft.

“I see you’re still getting into trouble with that pretty little mouth of yours!” He grinned sleepily, lightly brushing his fingers across her cheek.

She released him with a definitive pop.

“It’s past sunrise,” she gazed up at him wantonly, her hand grasping tighter on his shaft, eliciting a hiss of arousal, “You’re no longer in charge.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm-hm,” she nodded, licking the tip of his cock for emphasis, “you just have to lie there and let me take care of you.”

There was a clear war in his mind from the frown on his brows to the half closed lids of his eyes.

“That’s not happening,” he brushed the hair from her face, “this trip is about you!”

“Now it’s about me showing my appreciation.”

Before he could respond, she took him into her mouth again, one hand on the base of his shaft as the other trailed up his body to rest over his heart.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his heart beating more insistent than before and she felt his muscles start to flex in an attempt to sit upright.

The wide eyed look of surprise on his face when he found himself pinned beneath her was satisfying as she again let him pop from her mouth.

“How-“ he inhaled sharply.

“You’ve never been with an earth witch, have you?”

“I’ve never been with a witch,” he confessed, “how are you preventing me from moving?”

“I can stop, if you want,” she offered with sincerity, “you’re probably not used to not being in control?”

“It’s disconcerting,” he admitted, “but you trusted me, perhaps it’s only right that I submit myself into your capable hands.”

“Are you telling me, after all the experience you’ve had, and how much you give, no-one has wanted to do this?”

“They have,” he admitted, “but, as you say, I like being in control.”

“Then, do I have your consent to continue?”

She felt the tension that settled into his muscles relax as he relaxed back onto his pillow.

He tilted his head to the side in an exaggerated attempt to study her proposal and brushed his thumb over her bottom lip.

“It appears I am in your hands Madame,” he grinned, “but please, I ask only that you are gentle with me.” He teased with infuriatingly attractive confidence.

She responded by placing a timid kiss on the tip whilst staring up at him with the most doe-eyed expression she could manage.

“As beautiful as you were last night,” he combed his fingers through her hair, “I must tell you, right now, you’re easily the most radiant creature I have ever seen.”

“You’re only saying that because I have your cock in my hands!”

“I’m saying that because it’s the truth, and another thing,” he tipped her chin up with his finger to force her attention on his gaze, “I’m in love with you.”

Whatever grasp on her earth witch powers allowed her to anchor on top of him was evaporated by his revelation.

Taking the opportunity of the upper hand, he pulled her to him and under him.

“Baldwin, I-“

“Don’t say anything,” he smiled gently, “it was my time to say it, if you feel the same way and find the right time for you, I’ll be there to hear it.”

Eileen bit her bottom lip as a mixture of pleasure and emotion combined into a heady mixture in her veins whilst Baldwin tested her readiness to take him once again.

With a push he was sheathed inside but stayed his movement for a moment to slip his arms beneath hers and brace his forearms at either side of her head.

The close quarters allowed him the capability to kiss her cheeks gently, then her forehead, the tip of her nose and finally, her lips. His hand gently cradled the back of her head as he started to move.

Overwhelmed by his admission and the tenderness of his actions, she buried her face in the crook between his neck and shoulder and her obligingly held her there until he felt her tighten around him.

“Baldwin, I-“

“I know, you’re almost there,” he soothed when she grasped at his back, “I’ve got you.”

He felt her flutter around him and took his own pleasure when he heard her speak.

“I love you too.”

After lunch, with the table in front of them covered in various documents and arrangements, they planned their immediate future.

“I’m not looking forward to packing,” Eileen rolled her eyes, “but it’s a small price to pay.”

“About that?”

“What?”

“I already had your things moved to the apartment I told you about. I’ll feel better with you close by, even on a different floor.”

“And we need a family friendly story.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well,” she laughed, “when your sister asks to hear the grand tale of our confessing our feelings for each other I can hardly tell her that her brother said it whilst her friend had his cock in her hand-“

“And your friend said it when the aforementioned brother brought her to yet another satisfying conclusion.”

“We’ll say beach!” Both suggested in tandem.

#baldwin montclair #a discovery of witches #adow #baldwin de clermont #adow baldwin #adow baldwin fic #adow fic

41 notes · View notes

han-shinsuke · 4 years ago

Text

Lately, I noticed some changes in Nishinoya's behaviour towards my brother's friends. He seemed to discern whatsoever I can't figure out myself by just looking at them. Those kids, well, they weren't kids anymore to begin with, are like siblings to me. Basically watched them grow and had good times with them.

"What?!" as long as I can, I will keep my cool even though the mist on the corner of my eyes are already on the edge, "undress." Yuu repeated, forcing me to back away againsts the cold wall of the bathroom. He came unannounced in the training hub and dragged me back home. Luckily, my parents and brother are not around, so there would be no witness. My man had broken his own phone by smashing it in the garage.

"Your room fucking smell like them especially that San Catalina dude! He has his scent all over you." To my dismay, Noya spat and slammed his built against my small ones. Constantly squeezing my body with his fury.

Jealousy has taken over. He was blinded by it and I couldn't do anything to calm him unless, I wear the dress he bought and completely obliged to everything he would have to say.

"I told you, Yuu! They used my room for their final defense and there's nothing amiss with giving them congratulatory hugs!" I pushed him with my hands and he responded by blasting the shower on, drowning our bodies with heavy splashes. "don't make me tell you twice, Rei. You wouldn't like it." He wrecked my clothes from the outer down to the inner pieces, murmuring words meant for hell.

"Fuck. Fuck. You stinks of his scent. I swear I will fucking cut his throat for leaving his stench on my property!" I chose not to speak or drop a comeback or we will both burn each other with our fire. Nishinoya operated me like a doll and washed me thoroughly until the scent that pissed him go away.

"You fucking wear the lilac dress, Rei. I want your legs spread for me when I join you on the bed." I was pushed out of the shower and I just sighed. He's taking a bath and I need to prep myself for him. I blower dry my hair, put on his favorite perfume and wear the damn thin dress that would make his rage diminish.

I sat on my bed and sighed again. The last time I had sex with him was almost a month ago. I remembered joking him to find someone he could get laid on but he bantered expertly and had me sobbing due to his rough movements at his apartment. Damn. Yuu is devilishly good in bed.

"Hmm... pretty," Yuu commented as he walks towards my spot. He was wearing a greyish robe when he situated beside me. "I want you to ride a goddamn pillow for me, Rei. You can do it. I know you can."

Never imagined Yuu has this kind of fantasy in him. I have been a good girl for him and I have always do whatever he pleases to quench his thirst for sex. There were times when he urged me to watch an adult film with him and then, at the middle of it, he would attack and destroy me really bad. Nishinoya Yuu is an agressive one.

"Y-Yuu... I-I can't." And I'm really scared and it's kinda embarrassing to have a man watch me hump a pillow.

"Ssshh..." He shushed me with his lips and bit and tugged my red ones between his teeth, "obey me, babe or I will find San Catalina and kill him for real."

The terror and bloodlust portrayed on his face are telling me that I should follow and calamity would be avoided. To be the cause of someone's death was never in my wishlist. Fidgeting, I climbed on the bed and kneel in the middle. Noya, handed me a pillow and sat on the foot of the bed, smirking.

“Part your knees, Rei.” The room temperature increased and so my heartbeats. The pillow was shoved between my thighs and it’s not only my knees that gone separated. My mouth honed an ‘O’ when my cunt came in contact with the edge of the pillow that surprisingly has vibrator inside, “alexa, full speed.” Nishinoya smirked as I trembled. A smart sex toy!

“Aah, gosh!” my hands couldn’t find where to hold or who to hold and that made me, even though it is embarrassing, I ended up gripping my left thigh and right bosom as I rode with the toy’s rhythm, “gosh~ so fast, Yuu aah!” Lust. That’s what he can see in my eyes. Lust and thirst and excitement. Sex is scary. It could turn someone into a complete different person when fed with pleasures and desires.

My eyes were closed but my hands were hard and tight. I gripped the soft flesh and gave little attention to the small pear on the centre, “you are so fucking hot, babe~” I opened my eyes and met his beaming orbs. Nishinoya pointed a finger on the wall and I couldn’t agree more. There’s a full length mirror appended on it. I saw and watched myself in delight. I looked hot while bouncing my cunt and ass against the vibrating pillow and to make the fire go wild, I let go of my breast and let it bounce with the waves that my body is creating.

I was closed but the toy suddenly put on a halt. I sighed and pouted my lips. He removed the pillow between my thighs and thrown it somewhere in my room. Nishinoya discased himself and set down on the bed. His erection was as proud as him. It really looks hard and fat and I couldn’t help but wish to ride it as soon as possible. But the man had other plans in mind. He asked me to sit on his face and I did, “ooohhh~ hold on, Yuu aaahh~ don’t lick me so quick shit.” It was just his tongue that poked my clit but I’m already quivering and humping my core against his warm mouth.

“Cum in my mouth, babe and let me do the work in juicing you dry,” the time he have given wasn’t that enough to grasp the situation fully. He inserted his long tongue into my cunt and swirled and flicked the sensitive muscles that lies in there, stroking the part that had me desperately gasping for air as I squirt in his mouth and filled it with my orgasm. Knowing him, it will take exactly twenty minutes to put Yuu on his high but when it was me, that won’t take long because I don’t have control over it.

“Shit, Yuu~ it feels good~” down on the land, I still hump my cunt against his mouth and he didn’t mind. Instead, he wet my folds and everything in it with his saliva. Licked my labia and sucked the clitoral hood to help me pick up on the another level of heat we were bound to cross.

Nishinoya moaned between his dirty motions and I interpreted it as a ‘go’ to hump and bounce further. Reaching for his hot palms, I put those on my bouncing breast and he grabbed them with needs as he ate and slurped my essence in silence.

The times I moaned and gasped his name couldn’t be measured through counting numerically. It doesn’t matter at this hour and at this fiery moment. He had a grin on his lips when he stopped. I stood on my feet and offered him a hand. Nishinoya eyed me proudly as he watches the juice drips down my thighs down to my ankles. I received a spank from him and I yelped from the sharp pain.

“Spread your legs for me, good girl,” I was put atop of my working desk and he rolled the hem of the lilac dress above my chest and squeezed my other sensitivity with force. I bit the inside of my tongue and wailed in my mind.

“Aahhh goshh~ what the fuck, Yuu!” he spat thrice on my folds and drenched my entrance with it and I have to admit that for a second, I thought it would be a help me accommodate his size but I was wrong. He grown an inch and probably, it gotten fat also or it’s just me loosing the familiarity of his possession. My head bent backwards and the veins on my neck became visible when he goes all the way down to my cervix, bruising it with his thick and hard cap, “Yuuu hhnnggg~” I sobbed at first and then cried afterwards while struggling to push him through his toned abdomen.

But he grabbed my both hands and pinned them above my head while his other hand gripped my neck.

“Yuu... pleaseee aahnnggg~” I was tight and he’s huge and he’s half-choking, half-caressing my neck as he pulls slowly but push harder and deeper.

He seemed to lack of sympathy so he just chuckled over the pain I was feeling by having his length inside me.

“Please, drill deeper and faster? You don’t have to ask, babe~ I always go deeper and faster and harder to make a point and instill the fact that you’re fucking mine alone.” Another hard thrust entered my core and I let out a long wail of pleasure and pain. My legs were trembling really hard with each rough drill and Yuu just laughed it over. Resuming his merciless waves against my hips and there, I realised, I had no choice but to moan, cry and gasp his name. With those, he would reach his peak and I will get a break.

The shaking and moaning didn’t stop even after he reached his orgasm. He unloads his semen and injects his head deeper against my cervix. The first round ended with me crying and shaking and pushing him off.

“Yu–Yuu, pl–please pull out...” and he didn’t. He goes vastly in depth of the place he loves to ruin, “no way.” He says, smirking.

#love #haikyu #haikyuu #smut #imagines #imagine #anime #fluff #nishinoya x y/n #hq nishinoya #dirty imagines #nishinoya x you #nishinoya dom

15 notes · View notes

to-be-a-spartan · 4 years ago

Text

To Be A Spartan

Chapter 1: The Myth

18:38 Hours (Shipboard Time), July 20, 2557 (Military Calendar)

Slipstream Space

UNSC Infinity, S-Deck

Sarah Palmer wasn’t quite sure how her day had taken a turn to end up like this, and she damn sure didn’t like it.

The Infinity had picked up a distress call from the Forward Unto Dawn of all things. A ship that had been MIA, presumed destroyed since Operation: BLIND FAITH back in 2552 at the end of the Human-Covenant War. Well, it was a bit more complex than that but Sarah couldn’t be bothered to review the brief she was given on the ship in her head again.

Sarah rolled her eyes as she walked towards the First Officer’s Quarters. The entire ship was practically vibrating with excitement. It was ridiculous. She didn’t understand why they were so excited. The guy was probably dead anyway, because the distress call had been Cortana, his A.I., repeating a single phrase over and over. If you’d asked her prior to 2552 if she even thought the Spartans really existed, it would’ve been a resounding no. She figured the myths of Archangels of Death wreathed in invincible emerald green armor blazing through battlefields and slaughtering the Covenant were just from Shellshocked marines imagining things as reinforcements arrived and gunned down the perpetrators like dogs. She just assumed ONI Section II decided to highly publicize those few and far between victories and craft an immensely complex web of lies and stories to perpetuate the myth of the Spartans and raise morale among the ranks.

But then 2552 rolled around.

The Halo Campaigns, the Invasion of Earth, the Great Schism. So much happened, all centered around a Spartan. Not so much a Spartan, but the Spartan.

Sierra-117. The Master Chief.

One man almost singlehandedly saved the galaxy. That was when she started believing in the Spartans. Of course, Tom had told her stories of the Chief.

About the Covenant invasion of Circinius IV and the subsequent death of nearly all of his friends. Tom always said it was the Master Chief that had rescued them. Sarah loved her friend, she really did, but prior to 2552 she had remained skeptical that he really existed.

Setting those thoughts aside as she reached a bulkhead, she knocked twice.

“Come.”

The bulkhead slid open to reveal a relatively standard UNSC officer’s quarters. About a third larger than regular quarters, there was a steel desk on the far wall next to a wooden bookshelf that was definitely not standard-issue or within regulations, filled with actual paper books. The chair of the desk stood upon a single steel pole that rested in a grove on the deck. That groove contained a small track that let the chair slide along as it was needed and not fall or anything of the sort.

In that chair was Commander Thomas James Lasky, First Officer of the UNSC Infinity, and probably one of the only men who could call Sarah Palmer more than an acquaintance, commanding officer, or one-night stand (and those were very few and far between now).

The fair-skinned man span his chair around to face the door, reaching a hand up to smooth back his hair that was a few shades short of bark brown. He cocked his left leg at the knee and rested his left ankle on his right knee. Holding a datapad in his right hand and resting it in his lap next to the hand he lowered from his hair, he smiled. “I shouldn’t be surprised you’re here, Sarah. What is it?”

Sarah crossed her arms and leaned against the wall on her right side that the door she had entered from was up against. As she looked for the right words, she glanced around the room. Tracing her eyes along the wall, she passed over the small closet allotted to officers. Then along the wall to the door to the personal bathroom all officers were allowed (she also knew Tom despised that officers were given special privileges, so rarely used it for anything other than basic hygiene). From there she looked over to the wall that ran horizontal to the threshold of the door, and the immaculately made bunk pressed against the wall.

He’s nervous.... She thought, glancing back at him. She could see the abnormalities in the rise and fall of his armored chest. It wasn’t consistent. She could easily see the way he dug the tip of his right boot into the deck slightly.

“You’re nervous.” She stated finally, amber-brown eyes meeting his own chocolate-brown ones.

Tom’s brows furrowed ever so slightly, and after a second his smile switched from welcoming to bashful. She recognized the change instantly, she’d known him long enough that she knew every one of his mannerisms like the back of her hand. He lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck, letting out a soft laugh. “You got me.”

Sarah’s lips ticked upwards in a small smile. Tom never failed to make her smile at least once a day. She pushed off the wall and and moved over to sit on the edge of his desk. “Talk to me, Tom. I may not be very good at helping, but I’ll always listen.”

Lasky turned slightly in his chair so he was still facing her. “I know, Sarah. I know.” Then he blinked.

“We don’t have much time. Let’s go.” The armored behemoth that had killed the alien stated in a deep, gravely, but unmistakably human voice.

“Over thirty years ago, that man saved my life.”

“You’re the only survivors.”

“In the school....?”

“On the planet.”

“He risked his life for a bunch of kids.”

“Get to the ‘Hog, I’ll draw their fire!”

“I’ll never understand why.”

“Don’t stop for anything. Including me.”

“I thought I’d never see him again. Twice, in fact.”

“Lasky, no!”

“Axios!”

“First on Circinius during our escape. And again after that, onboard the ship that took us away. I don’t know why I’m so nervous.” Lasky sat the datapad on his desk and uncrossed his legs, resting both feet on the ground and both elbows on his knees.

Sarah didn’t say anything, just reached out a hand and rested it on Tom’s shoulder not covered by that odd piece of armor. She squeezed gently and rolled her lips together, still not saying anything. She didn’t have too.

Tom reached up a hand to rest on Sarah’s on his shoulder, looking up slightly and giving her a grateful nod.

She returned it, sque—

“XO requested bridge. XO requested bridge. Commander Palmer requested bridge. Commander Palmer requested bridge.” Came the voice of the ship’s artificial intelligence, Roland, over the ship-comm.

The pair sighed simultaneously, both standing up and smiling at each other before exiting Lasky’s quarters.

——————

Sarah Palmer walked onto the Command Bridge of the UNSC Infinity with a purpose in her step. It was time to work.

Now clad in her MJOLNIR GEN2 Scout Variant, Sarah felt much more at home than in her skivvies. She let her eyes take in the room, the outer circle of consoles on a slightly elevated platform that had small dips in three places leading down to the second tier where the main holotable of the bridge was sat in front of the viewport with Captain Andrew Del Rio and Tom standing next to it.

Sarah walked over, taking a place opposite of Del Rio and truly working to withhold the glare that tries to work its way out every damn time she looks at the worthless piece of shit. Judging by the look Tom gives her, he’s having the same problem.

“Commander Palmer, how nice of you to finally join us.” Del Rio says in his ever-condescending voice, somehow managing to look down at her even though she towered over the old man.

She bit back a sharp retort, instead sliding into parade-rest and nodding. “Of course, Sir.”

“Now, in two hours we will be leaving Slipspace at the location of the Forward Unto Dawn’s distress call. I want boarding teams ready to deploy the moment we clear the slip. Commander Lasky, you will deploy with them. The Spartan may react better to an officer than another team of Spartans. Understood?” Del Rio spoke slowly, still in that arrogant tone. He didn’t care about finding the Master Chief. He was just looking for another promotion.

Tom looked ready to call him out on his lack of using the Chief’s title, indirectly of course, but just under the edge of the table Sarah caught his wrist and almost imperceptibly shook her head. “Sir, it’s against protocols for any UNSC vessel to not have an Executive Officer aboard at all times. Commander Lasky-“

“Commander Lasky,” Del Rio cut her off, puffing out his chest in an unconscious (as if) attempt to assert dominance. “is no stranger to breaking a few protocols.... isn’t that right?” He looked at Lasky’s chest, exactly where his dog-tags hung under his officer’s BDU.

Sarah found yet another reason for wanting to throttle the Captain. She knew exactly what he was referring to. And she also wanted to throttle him for the look that flew across Tom’s face; She knew Tom well enough to understand he wouldn’t dare say anything, but it had hurt him.

“Of. Course. Sir.” She replied through gritted teeth.

Del Rio studied her for a moment, visibly debating whether to reprimand her or not for her sharpness, but decided against it. “Very well. You’re dismissed.”

—————

Sarah felt the deck rumble beneath her feet as the Infinity lurched out of the blue-black of Slipspace.

“Holy shit-!”

Sarah heard the exclamation from one of the flight technicians fueling up the Pelican and peaked her head out of the Blood-Tray to see what he—

Woah....

Staring back at her through the atmospheric shield of the main hanger bay was a gargantuan metal planet. It had millions upon millions of lights scattered across its surface in perfect geometric patterns, and a large hole in the surface of the planet.

“Oh my God...”

Sarah glanced to her left to see Lasky standing with one foot on the rear ramp of the pelican, the other on the Infinity’s deck. He looked just as mystified as everyone else.

“Now hear this, Now hear this:” Came Roland’s voice over the ship-comm. Then, something spectacular happened: “We have picked up a UNSC IFF tag in the core of the planet. According to all known data on Forerunner constructs, the planet is hollow. All hands, brace for atmospheric entry. We’re going inside.”

And then the deck lurched, and Sarah had to grab the pelican to keep from falling. Tom looked at her, and she shrugged. “Roland!” She barked. “What the hell was that?”

“The planet caught us in a gravity well, Commander!” The A.I. replied, his avatar appearing on a nearby comm pad. “Helm can’t get us out.”

At the same time, his voice came louder iver the ship-comm. “All hands! Brace, brace!” The deck rumbled again and crates went flying as Roland’s avatar vanished.

“Hostile Covenant contacts! All Pathfinder teams are to deploy immediately, we’ll cover you!” Del Rio’s voice snapped over the ship-comm.

“You heard him Commanders!” The voice of Spartan Vixen (Sarah did a double take when she first heard her name to), a member of Gypsy Company, called from the blood tray.

Sarah patted Tom’s shoulder, nodding as they both climbed into the pelican and the engines roared to life.

This is not a good idea.... She thought, but didn’t voice it. No turning back now. Taking a seat next to Tom as the harnesses lowered to keep them in place, she rolled her shoulders.

“Commander Lasky.”

Tom rolled his eyes as Del Rio’s voice sounded over the Pelican’s comm. “Go ahead Captain.”

“I’m assigning your team to locate the origin point of the gravity well that dragged us in-“ His voice got quieter as he turned away from the mic for a moment. “Ready Archer pods Alpha 7 through Bravo 6 and fire!”

“Understood, Captain. We’ll get it done.” Tom replied, then shut off the comm as the pelican arced into a steep dive to avoid a stream of plasma fire, throwing them against the hull.

Several minutes of rapid aerobatics later, Spartan Vixen decided to break the silence. Her deep blue visor turned towards Lasky and she spoke. “First time on a combat flight, Commander?”

The rest of the cabin laughed, Lasky included. He rocked in his harness a lot more than the marines or Spartans, but he seemed fine. He looked at Vixen, smiling good-naturedly. “Quite the opposite, Spartan. I used to be a naval aviator.”

Vixen whistled, nudging another Spartan, Spartan Tetran, with her elbow. “Hear that boys? The Commander here probably gave us fire support at some point.” A holler went around the bay, and everyone knew they were just distracting themselves.

“Commander Lasky, you might want to see this.” Came the voice of their pilot from the cockpit.

Lasky glanced at Sarah, who raised an eyebrow that he shrugged in response to. He raised his harness and stood up, stepping into the cockpit. They didn’t bother to be quiet, so Sarah could easily hear them discussing the gravity well they had apparently spotted.

“Incoming!” The Co-Pilot barked, followed by a flash of gold-orange light, and suddenly they were plummeting towards the surface with fire trailing from their port side wing.

Sarah watched as Tom was thrown from the cockpit and slammed into the ceiling with a pained exclamation before being buffeted into Tetran’s helmet. She unlatched her harness without thinking and grabbed Lasky, holding him against her armored chest. She could take more hits than he could.

“Brace for—“ CRASH

The pilot was cut off as the pelican slammed into the canopy of the alien trees below, the sound of metal being obliterated like wet tissue paper filling her ears as she and Tom were thrown about the cabin. The pelican slammed into something else, causing the rear ramp to fly open and Sarah to be thrown from the bay with Tom in her arms.

She flew through the air, doing her best to ensure she landed first instead of To—

CRACK

Then everything went black.

#To Be A Spartan #Chapter 1 #2.3 K words #Sarah Palmer #Thomas Lasky #Roland #Andrew Del Rio #Gypsy Company Spartan OCs #Marine OCs #Prometheans #John-117/Sarah Palmer

24 notes · View notes

my-own-oracle · 5 years ago

Text

Something Between Us Ratchet x Reader

You watched as Ratchet collaborated the ground bridge. The team had gone out to investigate a new entergon mine, to see what they could scavenge from the remains or outright take. The kids had gone home hours ago. Ratchet was supposed to take you back as well, but like most nights the medical bot had gotten caught up in his work. You knew there was a good reason, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

You had met the bots some time ago; you had been grabbed off the side of the road by Decepticon as leverage. And when Ratchet had been given the task of being your guardian, he let you know how much he disliked it and you.

You disliked him too, or at least you thought you did.

Slowly you had grown on each other. Ratchet and you shared a subtext; something was there, some bond. You both knew it and knew better than to say anything. He was millions of years old and a soldier in a war spanning longer than life had existed on your planet. You were a human; whose existence would come and go far to fast. You knew you both cared deeply for the other, but you both were smarter than to say anything.

You checked your phone; it was 7 pm, not too late. Perhaps you could see yourself out. You hated bothering Ratchet or any of the other bots; you knew the team would be tired and need Ratchet to patch them up. The medic did not have the time to worry about taking you home.

You quietly got up and began the trek home. You slipped on some earbuds while sneaking past the door and allowed the music to dictate your pace. The sky had begun to turn orange and red, stars slowly twinkling into sight. It was beautiful out, not too hot nor too cold. You lost yourself in the music, somewhat dancing as you walked.

It's just another night

And I'm staring at the moon

I saw a shooting star

And thought of you

I sang a lullaby

By the waterside and knew

If you were here,

I'd sing to you

Ah. Ed Sheeran, another endless love song for your emotionally confused mind. You swayed as you walked. Wishing you had someone to dance within the emptiness of the desert.

You're on the other side

As the skyline splits in two

I'm miles away from seeing you

I can see the stars

From America

I wonder, do you see them, too?

Yeah, a dance partner would be lovely. But you would never be able to convince anyone you know to dance with you in the middle of nowhere, even if it would be romantic.

So open your eyes and see

The way our horizons meet

And all of the lights will lead

Into the night with me

And I know these scars will bleed

But both of our hearts believe

All of these stars will guide us-

Pain flooded your system. Tires squealed, but the car never stopped. Your body hitting the ground didn't help, the impact on the rocky terrain sending lightning through you. Your legs felt off. Your body's in shock, blocking the pain from flooding your systems. Looking down you saw your knees where dislocated. Panic and anxiety took over.

You need a doctor.

You scrambled for your phone. You held down the speed dial, praying nurse Darby would answer.

Ratchet’s voice met your ears. “(Y/N), where are you, I realized I never took you home.”

“Sorry Ratchet, ” you tried to steady your breathing. “I was trying to call Mrs. Darby.” You shifted your body trying to pull yourself further off the road. The action caused your right knee to pop back into place. Pain flashed through your body, and an involuntary scream flew out of you.

“(Y/N) what's wrong, where are you?”

“No, no, no, I'm fine; I'm fine, no, no, no, I'm alright.”

“You're not alright. Your voice is wavering, and you're repeating yourself. Stay where you are; I'm coming to get you.”

“No-” the connection cut out. Moments later you heard sirens. They grew closer lighting up the area. Ratchet transformed when he saw you, kneeling over your form. The medic part of him came out.

“Do you still have feeling in your injured leg? Do you feel pain anywhere else?”

“Trust me Doc. I can still feel everything, and it all hurts.” You tried to sound firm, downplaying the feeling of fire flowing through your blood with terrible nicknames and sarcastic tones. But the initial rush of adrenaline was wearing off. Your arm was beginning to hurt along with both legs and your head. Ratchet scanned your body.

“You've broken your arm, have a potential concussion and dislocated your knee.” he steps back and transforms. His driver's side door opens, and his holoform hurries out. The middle-aged looking man takes your hand. “I know you hurt, but I need to put this back in place or else I won't be able to move you well.” Your breaths are short; Ratchet can tell you're doing your best to hold yourself together. His blue eyes flood with worry. “Look at me; don't look down. On three I'm going to put your knee back in place, ” he moves, one hand on your upper thigh right above where your knee should be — the other hand grasping around your ankle.

“Ok”

“Ready?” You nod and at that Ratchet pulls your lower leg down and twists it back into place. The pain in your leg eases to a dull ache.

“That's better; that's better.” Ratchet leaned over you again, placing his forehead against your own. “You didn't count Doc.”

“It was better that way. I'm going to lift you into the back, then take you to the hospital. I need you to stay awake the whole time.” The human-like mech carried you through his back doors. And as soon as his holoform was seated holding you close, he began driving. His arms were secure around your body, you could feel his worry seeping from his holoform and the vehicle all around you. Gently you run your hand across the bench next to you. You hope this action radiates calm and not fear.

You don't remember much of the drive. You were far too focused on Ratchets mental state and his holoforms tight grip on your form. Ratchet muttered a lot, asking questions you didn't want to answer. Most of them consisting of ‘what had you been thinking?’

The hospital had taken you back, and after an hour and some gentle persuasion, released you into Ratchets care. Ratchet decided on bringing you back to the base so he could watch over you. The ride started silent — the sound of Ratchet’s wheels and the road filling the cab.

“Why were you out here alone?” That was the 17th time he's asked. The answer still hasn't changed.

“You were busy, and the team would be back soon, I didn't want to bother-”

“Yip, yip, yip I don't want to hear it.” Silence lapped again. “You could have been killed, or kidnapped, I could have lost you, and I wouldn't have even known.”

“But you didn't lose me,” you looked at the empty driver seat. “None of my injuries were even close to fatal.” The base door opened to the empty main room of the base, Ratchet pulling in and stopping ever so slowly.

His holoform reactivated, walking around his front to open your door and help you out. He carries you up the stairs and to the couch, sitting on the floor next to you he places his head on your stomach.

“I'm not losing you (Y/N). I can't lose you.”

“What makes you think you'd lose me?” You run a hand over his holoform’s somewhat blond and grey hair.

“We've all lost so much to this Primus forsaken war; our home was destroyed, bonds shattered, comrades scattered to the wind.” He sounds more defeated then you've ever heard him sound. “I don't know what this is we have, but I'm not ready to lose it.”

You don't know how to respond, so you both lay there; Your hands endlessly running through Ratchets hair, his gently caressing your face.

#transformers #ratchet #ratchet tfp #ratchet x reader #tfp #re-post

99 notes · View notes

the-headbop-wraith · 4 years ago

Text

3 _ 40 _ The Land Time Forgot

Part 2

Before the Mystery Skulls could begin officially on their new assignment, they swung by headquarters office and met with security. Temporary passes went to each member, even the Mystery hound. Once the park was shut down fully and the cleaning crews made the final rounds, the crew took one assigned golf cart over to the Land that Time Forgot attraction. Arthur was issued the keys, and he was the one grumbling about coming out to do this gig.

“Just pretend we’ve been called off holiday for an emergency exorcism,” Lewis, once again, tried to appeal for optimism.

Arthur held the staff access open for his crew. The corridor extending within dark and though the emergency lamps buzzed active, only afforded so much light for them to navigate by. They had backpacks with essential supplies loaded up, flashlight torches among the essential gear, but for the time the trope worked with the shoddy light and let their eyes acclimate.

“I’m goin’ through with this, right?” Arthur snapped. “You go, I follow. Let me have my bitchin’ gripes, okay.”

Mystery set a paw on his knee and yipped.

Through the corridor Vivi led the way, with Mystery behind her, and Arthur with Lewis trailing. “We have maps,” she stated, “but we’ll take a patrol and get our orientation.” She swung around and pointed to Arthur. “Make sure walkies are on.”

Arthur placed a hand on his chest. “I, turn my walkie-talkie off? Never.” He pinched his thumb and forefinger together, and whispered to Lewis, “I turn it down super-duper, itty-bitty low.”

“Maybe don’t confess that.”

The entirety of the ride was inactive and still, like browsing through the clothing section of a store alone, while the mannequins judged your every move. Though the animatronic dinosaurs were not immediately visible, their watchful gaze was felt by the members of the Mystery crew. No draft skittered through the interior building, and despite the abundance of foliage, there was an unnatural ambiance in the dearth of nocturnal presence. Everything about the attraction became otherworldly, detached from an established norm prevalent in the former active day – wherein lights and sound ran rampant. The isolated world of the ride was by perception boundless, yet sterile and contained like an ordinary jelly jar fitted with twigs and a bit of soil to appease a small insect or lizard.

After making the rounds of the ride, the group placed themselves at the loading dock. The carts sat on their tracks within the suspended dividers, where guests could stand to climb in or out of the carts. The dull gleam of an emergency light draped its light over the collected members. Mystery leapt into one buggy and put his paws on the front handlebars.

Yap!

Arthur pulled out a folded page and slapped it to the hood of the buggy. “Okay, fifteen animatronics. All chillin’, save for one.”

“Allo,” Lewis presumed. “Won’t stop, can’t stop. Any idea where our dino-terror might be off to?” Vivi shifted at his side, digging around in her backpack.

“There’s no tellin’ how much truth there is to Mr. Klayton’s story.” She clicked on a torch, but quickly shut it off. “But he’ll likely respond to light or sound, and movement.”

“Like a real T-Rex,” Arthur groused.

“Precisely,” she whispered. “We’ll trust it responds strongly to light, over sound. So be very quiet. Arthur.”

Arthur glared. “Why’re you picking on me?”

Lewis poked his shoulder. “You scream. Very loud. Alerts our foes. Not good.”

Vivi came around to Arthur’s side and clicked on her light, though she kept a had capped to its side. “Our first order of business is determine how much control can be managed over this mechanical nuisance, wouldn’t you say?”

Arthur nodded. “Yeah. Good start.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’ll depend on what’s bugging Allo, or what’s controlling him. That’ll give us a foundation for what we’re dealing with.”

Lewis whistled, and Mystery gave a soft yip. The dog came over to his group and waltzed around them. “Let’s get a move on then. Get this thing flushed out, and see what it’ll do.”

“I’d rather not,” Arthur whimpered.

Vivi pointed to him. “You and Lewis then. You brave boys, see what you can figure out about the deactivated animatronics.” She turned away, studying the abyss of the ride interior. “You wanna start from the exit or entrance?”

“Exit,” Lewis vouched. “You and Mystery then? What’ll you two get up to?” Arthur was already folding up the page, and began rummaging through his own backpack.

“We’ll see about coercing Allo out.” She adjusted her backpack and moved her hand a little off the flashlight. “Don’t worry about us. We won’t get into any excitement without permission.”

Lewis started after her. “But Vii, that’s dangerous!”

From a considerable distance, she called back, “Turn on your walkie! We’ll meet you back here!”

Lewis sighed, and reached around to his backpack for the volume switch. “En un buen comienzo, no es así.” He clicked the transmitter. “Viiiii….” Arthur grabbed him by the sleeve and began dragging him.

“We’ll meet them middle way on the track. The sooner we start, the quicker we can finish.” He spoke, hushed. “But make too much noise, that dino will zero in on us.”

Once released, Lewis hopped off the end of the loading slab and followed. “You have no escrúpulos about this?”

Arthur grumbled under his breath. “Let’s set the record straight, she saved your butt today. Don’t forget that.”

When they moved beyond the range of walls and certified fortifications to guide them toward the world outside, the attraction became more unsettling as the artificial jungle scenery enclosed and thickened around them. High and in the distance, a red sign blazed faithfully above the gloomy fronds towering, but it seemed a mocking landmark, enticing misguided travelers. A lure on an angler fish, while unknown perils lurking like jagged teeth ready to ensnare the gullible.

Trekking within the thicket was monotonous, given that Arthur examined each and all of the inactive puppets dotted throughout the foliage. This task was made possible due to an interesting and terrifying feature of the animatronics; a mirror in the eyes reflected light, similarly to genuine nocturnal animals. By setting the flashlight to their face, it illuminated the eyes and singled out where each machine was if within the appropriate range.

“I’m getting jumpscared trying to find the chill pacifists,” Arthur muttered. He held a clipboard in both hands, while Lewis held a torch. The two sifted among the plastic and cloth replicated plants, working closer to the giant carnotaurus. The animatronic gazed into the endless black, a sentinel. “That thing is a ship with teeth.”

The two stood beneath it, dwarfed.

“Can you imagine if this ONE was running around?” Lewis whispered, but a little too loud. He capped his flashlight. “The damage it’d do.”

Arthur stumbled forward, but Lewis caught him before he could fall. He grumbled about the uneven floor, where fabricated vegetation lay tattered. “Damn. Yeh. Another tally for human interference.” They made the remainder of the way to the column legs. “I haven’t seen all the entrances or exits, but it’d be more practical for them to access a machine with mobility security.” Lewis moved away from him, taking the light with him.

“Here’s another penny for your thoughts.” Lewis aimed the torch down on the carnotaurus feet and prodded the claws with his sneaker. “Allo shredded those fences and bit a poll in two.”

Arthur knelt, the clipboard balanced on his thigh. “Yeah, I was there. Well, sorta. What’re you getting’ at?”

“The wood was reduced to toothpicks. Toothpicks.” Lewis applied more pressure to the claw. “Klayton said the animatronics were made nerfed, so they wouldn’t damage each other if they get into a ‘brawl’.” He did air quotes, momentarily redirecting the slice of light through the canopy. “And to prevent them from tearing up the set. But all the animatronics we’ve looked at, have pliable rubber claws. The toes here, too.”

Arthur wrote onto the notebook pinned to his clipboard. “Good catch. So, our feathered nightmare can’t be a part of this attraction. The question now, where did he come from?”

“Or when he arri—” Arthur leapt up and capped a hand over his mouth.

“Shh!” He went into alert mode, spiked hair standing on end and eyes dissecting the area over-and-over. “The light,” he hissed. Lewis shut the light off. In the blanket of null and sensory deprivation, Arthur uttered, “Yu hear that?”

Lewis wouldn’t dare move, aside from rove through the daunting gloom with his limited visual capacity. However, he trusted Arthur’s perception, there was good reason to be alarmed. Also, Arthur was rarely wrong. For a short time, nothing trickled through to suggest a presence or any direct threat. Then, a faint but ambiguous rustling – it was impossible to determine the direction. He tugged Arthur’s hand down.

“Vivi? Mystery?” he squeaked. The sounds ceased. Not good. “Let’s go this way.” He pushed Arthur sideways. “I hope that thing doesn’t see in infrared.”

“Don’t jinx it— ARGH!” Arthur twisted around, his legs became tangled with Lewis’ ankles and the two collapsed. This incident was to their benefit, when the allosaur launched its snout through the shrubbery and snapped on empty air. “RETREAT!” He took off running, but more shredded, decorative texture in the terrain sent Arthur crashing in a stringy-bean heap.

Lewis rolled aside and plucked up a rock. “You stop that right now!” He brought the suspiciously light rock down on Allo’s head, which succeeded in destroying the fake plaster prop between his palms. The Allosaur seemed to blink off the assault. “I pictured that going a lot differently in my head….”

The allosaur swung its head back and screamed a prehistoric yowl. Lewis grabbed the flashlight he dropped and staggered backwards, mind churning through the benefits of turning tail and running versus trying to face the machine. Bottom line, he needed something to slow it down with. The team studied the machine, it’s many malfunctions, and how to locate the thing….

But forgot to devise the certified way to incapacitate it! And it was going to require more than dropping an anvil on its head.

With a piercing snarl the allosaur thrust its jaws out, cutting the distance between it and Lewis in mere seconds. Its teeth clamped down on soft material and it began thrashing, hissing, and snorting.

Arthur released the chunk of fake palm trunk he swung into Allo’s teeth and back peddled. “I’m all for solving this case lickety-split, but we won’t do much of that in traction.” He snatched away Lewis’ flashlight and searched the ground, until he spied the notebook with the clipboard.

“Valid point.” Lewis began after Arthur, springing over a cracked log. “Vivi!”

“Viv-vi!” Arthur hollered. “Where’s the road?” He jammed the notebook in the backpack and fitted it safely to his spine. One more shield between him and teeth!

Lewis bolted between two close standing trees. “Keep running, the track winds around here. We’ll intercept with them, we gotta! Vivi!”

A fearsome wail shot through the once silent theme ride. Despite the ground Arthur and Lewis covered, the noises of cracking timber and thumping footsteps propelled after them from the oppressive gloom. The thunder and rumble gained, growing intense and closing fast.

Arthur barely dodged a set of small standing dinosaurs, emotionless and motionless in the dark. “Help us, we’re gunna DAI!”

There was absolutely no way some hulking, mechanical nightmare could navigate the staged scenery without alerting her or her companion. The slightest movement issued rustling or crinkling, from the material used to fabricate soil and lush greenery, to the low hanging branches lumped by carefully sculpted cloth, and the canopy high above. Everything smelled artificial and tinged with dust, it reminded her of offices with the fake plants that hung around forever. Not the nice ones that looked real, but the very fake, obvious fake plants with plastic stems and ratty cloth soil with the green Styrofoam base. It was likely more impressive with the lights and sound ambiance of living things, even if artificial. She wished they had a chance to go through the ride and see what it was like.

“Hello!” Vivi called. “Rawr! Rawr-rawr!” Then, she paused and listened. Not an echo nor a snort. Would the animatronic snort? In all the excitement that day she didn’t see much of it in action, aside from its retreating tail end. “That’s ‘I love you’ in dinosaur!”

Bark. Mystery kept his tone low, while he slunk beneath some fern leaves.

“Machines need love too.” She swung her flashlight through the faux grove, a thick haze of dust swirled through the blue beam. “Echo!”

Mystery’s eyes glint as he rolled them. He trotted ahead, sniffing at the ground. It was spongy and soft, a layer of plant fiber set above sand or wood chips.

“Any leads?”

Woof. He toed at a fake collection of rocks – them being fake because they were glued together.

“Maybe the therma frost broke it for good.” She snuck around a tree trunk, the structure made of cement and rock hard. A lush green, petrified tree. “I hope not, I was looking forward to cracking this case.” The light she flashed through the depths of interwoven branches, and wiggled it swiftly like a strobe.

Mystery yipped.

“Therma, perma. What’s the differ—ENCE!” She froze, her light caught the burning glare of twin orbs suspended three meters above the floor. “Mystery….”

Mystery gave a noisy snort and inched forward, but wiht caution. His ears straight, eyes intense.

Vivi let the light trail down. “Hmm?” She swung the light down and up. “Oh, that one’s way too big.”

Borf. Mystery trotted the remainder of the way, with Vivi in tow.

“That looks like a mini-Rex. Baby T-Rex?” she posed. She went up and touched the underside of the belly. “The eyes glow. That’s nice to know.” She continued prodding the mini-Rex. “Squishy.”

Mystery yapped. When she turned a light on him, the hound nodded aside and resumed his trek.

“You gotta admit, they are cool. For cheesy attractions.” Vivi whistled, as loudly as she could muster. Sometimes she would give a hoop, or a holler. “Aside from the technicians, no one else is probably allowed this close to them. Except for Allo nuisance, he does his own thing.” She took a deep breath and gave her loudest yell yet.

Mystery stopped in his tracks and gave her the widest-eyed stare.

Vivi aimed the torch through the brush, listening. “Where could it be? We don’t have the time to search half the park this night.”

A few yards away, Mystery padded up a decorative slanted log and perched at the peak. Nothing to the right, nothing to the left. Yip! He leapt off and landed beside Vivi. He grumbled under his breath and barked.

“Let’s wait ‘til we meet up with them. We might cross paths on the way there.” It would be a while before they returned to the entrance of the ride, but somewhere they had to cross paths with the Allosaur. That is, if the machine was still within the attraction, or within sensory range to her dino-summons. She was beginning to doubt it remained inside the attraction, if like Mr. Klayton indicated, it was becoming more mobile. That was going to be a problem.

“If we can’t draw it out,” she began, “we can’t devise a way to coax it, or restrain it. It shredded a fence just fine, but maybe we can tangle it up in a good net?”

Yarf.

“Cliché. But effective.” A sound from the rear startled her. She whipped around with the flashlight, holding steady and listening. It wasn’t a sound, was it? The fake foliage settling as they passed, nothing ominous or pursuing. “A snare?” She flashed the light over the tree branches. “Hmm. But what sort of cable and how much tension?”

Mystery whined.

“I want to get with Arthur on that.” She turned her light and recoiled! An ominous and hulking shape crouched behind a flowering palm plant. A stegosaur, or something. It stood on four short, but column legs. “I don’t trust the owner, or Ms. Attorney Lady. But I wanna catch him in a lie, and try getting a read if he’s into something shady or….”

The walkie-talkie crackled against her backpack, squealing with a surge of static and muffled yammering, all of what might’ve been voices.

“Or if he’s not very bright,” she ended, in sigh. She unclipped the communicator and snapped the send button. “Lewis! That you?”

“AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“Lewis.” She snapped the device away when a roar ripped through.

Mystery sat down and gave his ear a well-deserved scratch.

“Talk to me, boys! What’s happened?” She picked up with a run, the beam of her torch bounded across the uneven terrain and across elephant ear leaves. “I think I know what’s going on, but are you okay?” Mystery caught up at her side, his collar rattling in rapid succession with his zipping stride.

In the background and distant, Arthur came through chattering up a panicked storm, “It found us! We’re bein’ chased— WeWereSoFuckingCarefulThisIsUtterBullShit!”

“Language Arthur!”

“My gods, Lewis! We’re gunna DAI!” The communicator gave a dramatic, electrical wail as Vivi toggled the relay switch.

“Okay! Okay! We’re on our way, don’t panic!”

Bark!

“Who’s panicking?” Arthur wailed. “We’re being chased! We’re so lost, and we’re being chased!”

Lewis hollered through, loud and clear, “Where are you!”

“Not at the entrance.” One of the animatronics was in her path, once again freaking her out – what with all the noises churning through the communicator. “Find your way to the backside! I don’t know where we are! Can you make it to the back? This place is a box, we can follow along the wall—”

A response was not forthcoming, not for her. Lewis gasped, speech labored, “Watch out!” Following came snippets of silence, with patches of Arthur screaming and the Allosaur shrieking. Some sort of distinctive weight thumped, almost vibrating the walkie-talkie in her palm. There was some cussing in there and harsh scuffling. The screech of the Dinosaur became intense, until it was right there in the communicator.

“What’s happening?” Vivi halted in her tracks and listened through the device, terse and powerless.

Mystery shot by, his barks fading as he tore through the pseudo jungle. Vivi resumed in a job, leaping logs and some sort of small animal puppet. The whole time, the communicator was treacherous and silent.

“Hang in there! Mystery and I got your trail!” When she snapped her finger off the transmitter, Arthur’s voice punched through:

“This was a bad idea! I told you guys, didn’t I say? I called it! One Hundred Percent CALLED IT! I’m a fucking seer! AYYYEEEEEE!”

RAAARRR!

“Just shut up and run!” Lewis snarled.

How far the Allosaur was behind them, this was hard to say. It followed with intense, single-minded focus, pronouncing the diminishing stretch by cavernous bellows. The duo was in some horrendous video game level with an instant game over, snapping at their heels.

The jittering beams of their flashlight flickered across the thick fibrous carpet, revealing snags and gleaming across sinister disasters hidden among the shadows. Though, neither Arthur or Lewis paid much mind to the ground beneath them – except to save them from colliding with a low branch – focus was averted high above, to the bright mocking glare of the EXIT sign. It was a beacon in the night, the easiest recognizable landmark in the abyss of the hellish attraction.

“Hang in there! Mystery and I got your trail!” crackled through the radio Lewis gripped, the plastic creaked under intense pressure.

He toggled the transmitter, “THANK YOU!” He was having a hard time keeping up with Arthur, despite inspiration being super motivating.

The Allosaur gave a peeling shriek, the noise of it vibrating in Lewis’ ears, growing louder and more deafening. It was right at his backside.

Lewis scrapped between two narrow trees, nearly getting wedged in the narrow space. A rebounding Thunk! echoed, and the Allosaur hissed. But the sound of it did drift away. However, he did not stop to look or spare a thought, he recovered his speed and tried to catch up with Arthur. He pinpointed him by the sporadic patches of yellow light flittering through the shrubs, and managed to catch his stride.

“Pepper!” he panted.

“Kingsman!” Lewis vaulted over a rock.

“Nice day at the office!”

“Marvelous! Absolutamente asombroso!”

“Technically, it’s nighttime.”

Lewis exhaled, “True!”

A thundering screech crashed through the plastic flora somewhere to the left. The Allosaur was gaining, due to the fact it was not a living animal. On the other hand, Lewis and Arthur ran on fumes.

“The Exit, there should be a door!” Lewis huffed. The red beacon was neigh ninety degrees airborne, a few more meters they should come to the boarders of the building.

The line of his light did hit a sheer and solid surface, which by the explanation of his light revealed a rugged boarder of stone standing at about ten or eleven feet. Well above his height clearance. But there was no clean cut wall, no slate, and no irrefutable explanation of exit. Nothing but a cliff face.

Being more spry and agile, Arthur flew up the wall like a squirrel. He chucked his light up, his hands caught grips with practiced ease and with a small bit of leverage propelled himself skyward.

That looked easy! Lewis jammed the flashlight between his teeth and felt for a handhold. His fingers easily found a knot, he braced his foot and—

Fell backwards. With a hunk of cheap plaster gripped in his hands.

“Lewis!” Arthur set his light down on his teammate, and hissed, “What the FACK?! Get up here!”

Lewis bit down on his flashlight and scrambled to his feet. From his safe perch, Arthur held the light steady while Lewis took another fixture of the coarse wall and shoved his toes into niche. He managed to ease himself up a foot or so, but applying too much weight and the crappy Styrofoam snapped. The outer layer was stiff and scrapped his knuckles when he came down. Lewis looked up at Arthur and they locked eyes.

“AAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

The Allosaur shrieked. Arthur turned his light up, catching the eye sheen of the animatronic as it barreled through the fake jungle. “Oh my god! Um, Don’t move! I’ll get help!”

Lewis spat out the flashlight. “Arthur?” The Allosaur expelled another echoing howl. He turned, angling his light through the thicket. “Arthur!” The soft yellow light that drenched him, was now gone. Lewis had never felt so alone, so utterly betrayed. “ARTHUR!”

The thundering parade of the Allosaur hurtled toward his focal point, everywhere it went the plants rustled and crashed. It snarled, the sounds of its violent procession closing in on him. It must have infrared vision!

Lewis pressed his back against the cold fake rock. The Allosaur bounded through the thicket, the frayed ends of his light brushed against its snout. It closed in with terrible swiftness, weaving around artificial plants, but never once detracting for more than a millisecond. Lewis began inching away, if he timed it right, it might just shatter its CPU. But his timing had to be impeccable.

A blissful light drenched his shoulders, along with a stringy long rope thing. Likely a vine prop. The tale end of Arthur’s hoot, “—Tight!” Came through, and Lewis had enough foresight to piece together the full phrase. Without delay he dropped his flashlight and grabbed the rope.

The Allosaur barreled forward, chewing through the remaining few feet, teeth glittering in the spotlight Arthur cast. Lewis braced himself, he wasn’t sure what for. A Tarzan themed holler peeled from above high, and Lewis shot up at rocket speed. The angle of the line zipped him across the upper edge of the plaster cliff face. He cleared it but barely, his jeans scrapped eliciting a sharp yelp. Out somewhere across the open air, the Tarzan yowl waned in its descent.

Then Arthur really started screaming.

Lewis had to release the vine thing, or he would have gotten skinned on the concrete surface of the floor he was on. He crawled to the edge, and peering down tried to make sense of the swaying murk below. A succession of snarling poured forth of the large, black heap; it thrashed and swept into a stray flash of the yellow beam Arthur held. He thought this was clear indication where Arthur wound up, but the light cut off. He heaved off his backpack and dug through the folders and tools, until his palms clasped the large cylinder camping lamp.

“I did NOT THINK THIS THROUGH!”

He clicked the light on and turned it down. There was Arthur, running around the erratic animatronic. The dinosaur roved in circles, shaking and snapping, not fully invested in chasing the yellow blur. After affording a brief examination, he recognized the actual issue. The other end of the rope was snagged between its teeth, and the animatronic was fighting to cut it free. The line was tangled somewhere, this provided by how every time the Allosaur went to turn on Arthur, it’s head snapped sideways.

“Arthur!” he hooted. “ArthurArthurArthurArthur!” He dashed along the edge of the cliff flailing the flashlight around. “Get over here ya dweeb!”

The rope at last snapped with a grueling CRACK! and the Allosaur swept its snout towards the tiptoeing figure. A peeling shriek, something like an EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE shot out of Arthur as he did a one-eighty and charged out into the jungle thicket.

A rumbling snarl thundered out as the Allosaur resumed its chase, it’s tail flashing out of sight within the shrubbery.

Lewis stamped his foot. “Damnit!”

Meanwhile, Arthur was running for his life. Several times he nearly stumbled or lost his footing. Though he had the advantage of choosing a tight pathway difficult for Allo to pursue, the animatronic was not distracted by a second target. It was able to lay full focus on him, and track him with crazed efficiency. Or frenzy. He managed to catch his second wind in the meager intermission, but his muscles were giving out. Running on the spongey floor was strenuous, and the Allosaur’s grating call was closing in. If it got a clean opening, it would have its jaws on his neck.

There! He took a sharp right, in the line of sight of Allo. The dinosaur lunged, but Arthur already tucked into a stunt roll. Its feet trounced the earth right behind his shoulders, but he kept going until he was back on his feet. At no more than two meters there was some shadow, and bent – what he guessed would be roots – the trees weren’t real. But that black, unmistakable, hollowed space – there was no mistake on what that was. He’d stake his life on it, as he was about to.

The roots were concrete, hard as stone, bent and arched around a gouged hollow beneath the fake tree. Arthur clambered through the wedge, with the Allosaur not more than a breath behind his feet. His immediate thought was, ‘How deep is this!’ He smacked his flashlight against the wall and the light doused, the space around him blacked out. His hands prodded the walls seeking space or drafts, he jammed his elbows and shoulders at every inch, pushing further away from the hissing hydraulics of the Allosaur as it snapped and worked its way after him.

He felt the walls and ceiling, using his legs to kick for any missed crease that might afford an exit. There was nothing but concrete on all sides – left, right, up, and down – solid, unyielding.

“SHIT!”

The Allosaur snapped its jaws inches from his knee. “Fuck you!” Arthur tried kicking its snout, however ineffective it was. The machine twisted its neck and squeezed in further, the servos in its jaws whirling. It wouldn’t help, even if he wasn’t exhausted. He had nowhere to go—

Something snagged his collar and yanked him upward. He gave a little sob.

“Gotcha! I got ya Artie!” Lewis heaved him out of the hollow between the knotted roots, and dropped him on the ground. “You okay?” He adjusted the camping light, checking Arthur over, making sure he was in one piece.

“Yes, fuck! That was too close!” Arthur gave his own body a full pat down. All there, except for the gash in his vest where he fell earlier. All the stuffing on that side fell out. “It almost turned me into bubblegum!” He got onto his feet and paced a bit, before stopping to hunch over and set his palms to his knees. He just needed to breathe a moment.

“Take it easy now, you’re fine.” Arthur took a noisy breath and gargled. “Smooth, climbing into that… what is this? A burrow?” Lewis turned his light onto the opening, where he hauled Arthur out.

“I don’t give a toot what it is.” Arthur rounded the side of the tree, but cautiously. The Allosaur was still being raucous, snarling and grunting. It sounded like they had some time to catch their breath. “Probably for those lil dinosaur thingies. Are they chickens? The small nuggets.”

Lewis quirked his brow and shined the light across his face. “Raptors?”

“Chicken tenders,” Arthur insisted. Lewis came over with the light and stood beside him, observing as the Allosaur persisted with its struggles. And failed to free itself.

“It’s… not getting loose, huh? It’s stuck.” He shined the light lower, against the backside and shoulders of the unruly thing. It was surreal, watching the rubber suit cover on the dinos backside jiggle, but not ripple like the way muscles should. As muscles would, if on a real animal. For most of the night they were running from this thing, and it felt very real, like a hunting predator. Not some deranged AI, or whatever went off with it. Nonetheless dangerous, but creepy and sinister.

“Y’know what,” Lewis went on, stunned, “I think you caught it!”

Arthur gasped. “NO!” He leaned a little closer, but wouldn’t get too close. “No! Really? I did it? I did it! The case is over!” He throws his arms up. “WHOO! I am a mastermind!”

“Don’t get too hyped,” Lewis warned. “We caught it, but we still don’t know what’s up with it, or if someone is controlling it.”

“CASE CLOSED!” Arthur hooted. “Our contract said we have only gotta catch it! Done deal!”

Lewis chuckled and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Por el amor de…” he sighed. “Y’know, lemme be honest, I thought you bailed back there. On that cliff.”

Arthur dropped his arms and gave Lewis a befuddled stare. He winced when Lewis shined the light his way. “What! What kind of loser do you take me for? Abandoning my best bro. Get outta here.” Lewis laughed.

“It was pretty stupid.” He turned the light back onto the Allo. “I have a habit of overestimating myself, getting in over my head. You guys… always come back, and keep me outta trouble.”

Arthur shrugged. “Eh, we’re even now. Right?”

“Right.” He held up his fist. Arthur smirked, and returned the fist bump.

The Allosaur gave a grating wail, gears grind in its neck as the body twisted, the rear legs shoved at the padded terrain. At the cement roots, they crackled and squealed. With another shriek, the Allosaur ripped its shoulders free – a flint of light ignited off the Allosaur’s neck.

“Shit!” Lewis backed up, and pulled Arthur with him.

“Fuck a balloon!”

The Allosaur hauled its arms and neck free, the cement barrier that once caged it snapped apart. Lewis swung his light on the dinosaur, the beam momentarily illuminated a space on its arm torn open, revealing foam and inner padding. It was fleeting, and before Arthur or Lewis could react to what would happen next, the dinosaur veered aside and charged off. Disappearing into the fake foliage of the eerily silent jungle. The thundering footfalls and rustling shrubbery diluted after seconds, until once more silence tormented the fabricated fauna sprawling abundant.

Arthur dropped, but Lewis caught him before he collapsed entirely. The taller figure held onto his friend, and used his other arm to pat his back. Arthur sniffled and shuddered.

“There-there. We knew it was way too easy.”

“We never get a freebee!”

Off somewhere, echoing yaps rebounded through the area. Lewis gave a holler, and reached down to take up the camping lamp. “Over here!” He swung the light around, flashing the vibrant rosy beam through the clutter of petri-timber. “We’re okay!”

“No we’re not!”

Lewis sighed. “We’re in one piece!”

“Yeah!”

Soon, the panting rasp of a dog threaded its way towards the two. Once Lewis was able to interpret the direction, he hauled Arthur with him toward his teammates. “Vivi?”

“Yeppers!” she called. She was not far from the dogy gasping. “You got away from it?” The swaying blue beam preceded the clopping footfalls as she raced to them, out of breath and hair frazzled. “What happened? You’re both okay?” Upon seeing Arthur hanging off Lewis, she handed her flashlight off to Mystery and knelt before him.

“He’s in a little shock.”

Arthur whimpered, “It got away.” Vivi scrunched up her face.

“That’s… not something I expected to hear from you.”

Arthur brought his hands to his head. “No! We managed to trap it—”

Vivi turned her eyes up to Lewis. “You caught it!”

“Eh,” Lewis shrugged. “Isn’t that past-tense?” He moved down the slope, guiding the path with his lamp. “Temporarily snared.”

Vivi groaned, “I miss all the fun stuff!” Arthur balked.

The group examined over the area, inside the warren and the arched cement tree roots, decorative fantasy décor for the ride-goers. Vivi took interest in the snapped root ends, where the rebar stuck out, warped and shattered.

Vivi poked the corrupt end of rebar. “Can we decide how much gauge of cable to use, when we need to catch it?”

Arthur stood nearby, gazing off into the thicket with Lewis’ lamp flittering through the grove. “Sure. I don’t think it’ll have that much tensile strength in its hydraulics.” He perked his lips and nodded his head. “But we’ll work on how to keep it from tearing loose later. We kinda fucked up figurin’ how we’ll get it into the trap, though.”

Lewis was crouched, giving Mystery’s shoulders a rub while the dog laid on the floor resting. “True. But we can vouch that Mr. Allo is on someone’s payroll.” He perked, and stood. “Did you see, Art? It did rip its skin cover, on its arm.”

Arthur didn’t answer immediately, vouching to listen and study the perimeter. “We can try shorting it, given if the interior wiring isn’t insulated. That’s no guarantee.” He patted his own arm. “Insulation takes time to incorporate, and costs extra. It would also bulk out the equipment. So, we can think of that as an alternative, if getting it to behave doesn’t work.”

Vivi stretched and gave a yawn. “Okay, we have some intel to work with. It seems like time to call it a night, sound good?”

“You won’t hear a complaint from me,” Arthur chimed. “Stick a fork in me.” He was already walking away, with Mystery hurrying after. Lewis grabbed up his backpack and followed.

“The Allo might need to recharge,” Lewis mentioned. He took Vivi’s hand, and helped her up a loose fitted slope. “Each animatronic has a battery life for a few days, but we don’t know how long our friend has been running amuck. That might be the reason it took off.”

Vivi adjusted the light between her hands. “We’ll snoop around the park in the morning, try and find where it went and build our game plan. Did you guys hear me, I was making a lot of noise. That thing didn’t give a truck about Mystery or me.”

Ruff!

“I didn’t hear ya, but I’ll take your word for it” Lewis affirmed. “Someone has access to the Allo controls.”

Vivi stroked her chin. “Someone that knows we’re investigating the park.”

Together, Lewis and Vivi did a dramatic, “Hmm….” Simultaneously.

Arthur yawned and rubbed his face. “Can you guys draw up accusations tomorrow? After we’ve slept on it.”

Woof.

Together, the Mystery Skulls navigated their way through the fabricated jungle, trading stories on the encounter with the Allosaur and their escape. At one point Arthur stopped midsentence and in his tracks, then turned the camping lamp around the area they were currently within.

“Where the fuck are we?”

#mystery skulls #Alive!Lewis #msa #mystery skulls fanfic #mystery skulls fanfiction #fanfiction #msa fanfic #msa fanfiction #msa arthur #msa vivi #msa mystery #mystery skulls ghost #mystery skulls animated

15 notes · View notes

tobin-heaths · 5 years ago

Text

Hips don’t lie (NSFW)

request: Where R has been gone for a month for work (she can be a soccer player or just a business woman) and has been missing Julie. R decides to do something she has never really done, Sext Julie/send her needy pics. After some fun with that it prompts her to return earlier to surprise Julie with some needy, hot ravenous sex. Of course top Julie is a must! She's daddy.

pairing: Julie Ertz x Reader

words: 2093

Your hands glide down your own sides, smoothly running over the soft fabric of your red lace lingerie until you reached your thighs.

You were a little nervous but excited.

It was a late evening, rain pouring down in Chicago at this time, creating a nice atmosphere inside. You felt like a stripper, a desperate and sexy one.

The best thing about this was Julie not knowing anything about the little surprise you had prepared, excited for her reaction once she'd be home.

You've been gone for some time, the last time you saw Julie was weeks back. You missed her, she missed you. One thing led to the other and the two of you decided to try out a few things.

Things like nudes, sexting or phone sex to keep you away from being overly bored or feeling lonely.

You enjoyed this so much, loving the reactions Julie gave you, that you returned home earlier than what Julie expected.

You never thought you could become this needy for sex, just for a little bit of skin contact with your girlfriend, the only one to really make you feel this good in bed.

But here you were, back home in your shared apartment, a nice city view, the rain hitting the windows while you stood half naked clad in some fancy lingerie you bought days before to surprise your girlfriend with a lap dance.

To be honest, you've never given anyone a lap dance before, the only thing coming close to it was riding Julie's strap, but that wouldn't be helping you right now.

Nonetheless you wanted to pull through for the sake of getting a good fuck and making your girlfriend happy to have you back in her arms.

Your bedroom was equipped with some nice LED lights, you made them shine in a cool red light, matching your underwear. There was music playing in the background, your sex playlist on shuffle.

You went back into the living room and grabbed one of the chairs from the dining table and positioned it in front of the king size bed and sat down.

Crossing your legs you looked over to the clock on your nightstand and prepared for Julie to arrive any minute.

True to those words you heard the key in the door and it being pushed open. Your heart rate started picking up a mile, warmth rushing to your cheeks, your hands sliding up and down your thighs. Now or never.

Julie shuffled around the apartment, keys clinking and shoes being thrown off. Her footsteps came closer to the bedroom and you took one last deep breath before straightening your back, putting on a sexy grin.

Your girlfriend rounded the corner and came to an abrupt halt once her eyes settled on your form in the chair.

"Hey, love." You purred and remained seated.

Julie's jaw hit the ground as she shamelessly checked you out, eyes looking you up and down, hungrily taking in every part of naked skin.

"Y/N, what are you doing here? I thought you had like a week left? Wow– I mean this is a nice surprise." She rambled, stepping closer.

"I needed to see you after our last phone call." You replied and stood up, meeting her half way.

Your arms reached out touching her biceps, gently sliding upwards until you reached her neck while her hands grabbed your hips, pulling you into her body.

You almost let a moan slip at the contact; it had been so long, so terribly long since the last time those hands laid on you.

"Oh, I remember clearly. Those pictures you sent were the only thing on my mind the last few weeks." Her mouth met your ear, kissing around the outer shell, her hot tongue tracing all over it, finishing off with a teasing bite to your earlobe.

The control and dominance you started with faltered for only a second until you remembered what you came for today.

You leaned away from her and grabbed her hand, dragging her over to the chair you sat in not long ago and pushed her down on it.

Now it was you towering over her as her hands wanted to return back to your hips. "Oh no. No touching until I allow it." You teased and wiggled your eyebrows, batting her hands away from you.

She raised an eyebrow, silently testing you. "Do not make me tie you up, JJ." She raised her hands in surrender and you smirked triumphantly.

You stepped back, your eyes never leaving the blonde woman sitting comfortably in the chair, a smirk on her face as her eyes never left your body either.

Julie looked delicious in her tight jeans and shirt, the right amount of muscles poking through the fabrics. The sight only made your knees grow weaker as this strong woman was completely at your mercy now, just waiting for you to start your dance.

It was hard to not just give in to the fire burning behind her eyes and let her straight up fuck you as if it was the last time to do so.

Instead you let the music take over your body, swaying your hips to the beat of the music as if invisible hands moved them from side to side.

Julie's jaw clenched taking in the sight in front of her, you dancing so willingly and teasingly. It was impossible to rip her eyes away from you, afraid that if she would blink she'd miss a second.

You turned around, the music now taking over you completely, giving her a perfect view of your ass clad in beautiful red panties, panties she'd love to rip off.

Julie's hands clawed into the sides of the chair, the only thing able to hold her back from standing up and taking you to bed.

Facing her once again your eyes widened just a tad. Julie, eyes wide open, pupils blown and cheeks flushed, looked ready to go to war on a soccer pitch and destroy some ankles. Now that made you smirk even more.

"You like it, baby?" You lowered yourself onto her muscular thighs.

"You have no idea." Her voice was slightly shaking as you started grinding on her lap, your hands coming to rest on her shoulders.

If Julie looked closely she would be able to notice the wet patch along your panties.

At no other time had she ever been teased like this, the sheer willpower to place her hands on your body was overwhelming. She was starting to grow desperate, ready to beg any minute now.

Placing your hands on your tits you made sure to slowly rub over your erect nipples as your hips drew circles back and forth over her lap.

Julie's quiet moan made your grin widen, almost enjoying this more than you should, your hands stopping their movement as you leaned down towards her ear. "I want you to touch me." You whispered and nibbled on her earlobe.

Her hands were on you in an instant, exploring everything, not missing an inch of your heated skin. Excited hands slithered along your stomach up to your tits, roughly palming them, her thumbs circling your hard nipples, making you throw your head back and suppress a whimper.

The music long forgotten you poured all your emotion into the movement of your hips, making sure Julie could feel your excitement.

"Oh fuck." You moaned, her hands roughly grabbing your ass, your dominance faltering bit by bit, as she was now guiding your movement.

Licking her lips her eyes landed on your chest going lower and lower until she reached your waist where she stayed watching her hands move your hips back and forth.

The way your chest was heaving and sinking with every shaky breath you took, the way your stomach muscles clenched or the way her hands were leaving red marks along your goosebump littered skin, hopefully leaning a few bruises behind.

She was in complete awe of you, taking in everything you had to offer. Wetting her lips one last time she tugged you down by your neck until your lips met hers in a feverish kiss.

It was far from gentle, teeth clashing, tongues fighting a battle for dominance, her teeth biting down on your lip, obviously drawing a small amount of blood. It was everything you wanted and more.

Your hand grabbed a handful of her blonde hair and tugged, making her moan into your open mouth.

Julie's thigh flexed against your clothed pussy and you cried out in ecstasy, just the right amount of pressure to get you close to an orgasm but not enough to push you over.

Your hips moved at an even faster pace trying to chase a high that might never come if Julie doesn't say so. "Oh god– no, don't stop!" Your eyes snapped open to see her smirking at you, whining as said hands stopped your clit from rubbing against her thigh.

"You thought I'd let you cum that easily after giving me a show like that? Seems like you forgot who's in charge here, hm?"

Your hips tried moving again, feeling your own wetness in between your thighs, but her strong hands kept you in place. "Please," You begged, desperate for any sort of friction on your clit. "I need this, please, Julie. I'll do anything."

"Look who's begging now. Did you honestly think sending me those flirty pictures of your naked body wouldn't trigger a reaction from me once you'd be back? I'll enjoy this properly." Shivers ran down your spine.

"Look at me and answer me." Fingers grabbed your chin, raising it so her eyes could meet yours, the fire burning behind them making you gasp.

"I guess–" The rest of your sentence died in your throat as cold fingertips pressed against the wet patch on your panties. "You guess what, babygirl? Common, give daddy your filthiest moans. So so wet, how cute."

Your mouth parted, extra careful to not drool onto her even though she wouldn't mind, you weren't exactly sure.

With your hips moving back and forth against her hand that was rubbing you over your panties you desperately grabbed onto her shoulders and squeezed. "More! Harder!"

Her fingers brushed your panties to the side, smirking as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, her fingers roughly pushing through your folds and into your wet hole. "Like that?" She teased.

Unable to reply your mouth stayed open as a particularly hard thrust made you cry out.

There was no time to think about anything or feel ashamed for how easily this woman could make you go putty in her lap, how easy it was to take her dominance back from you with the snap of her fingers.

She set a rough and unforgiving pace, the tips of her fingers repeatedly hitting your sweet spot, her thumb adding extra flavor by circling your needy clit. All this added pleasure made you forget where you came from, her name the only thing on your mind.

Her free hand slapped your ass harshly, no doubt leaving a red hand print behind, her ears taking in your bitter sweet screams and moans like sweet jazz playing in the background.

"Oh what a sight for sore eyes you are, getting fucked by my fingers, looking so helpless as you try to chase your release. You look so hot, babygirl. Fuck." Her words only pushed you further towards an orgasm, the knot in your stomach growing tighter.

"Daddy! Can I please, please cum?" You begged, your hips moving franticly.

Julie looked up at you and nodded. "Yes, do it for me. Such a good girl. Cum for me, baby."

You felt helpless and totally overwhelmed as she seemed to be everywhere at once, all over your body, her hand picking up on speed, her mouth nipping and sucking along your neck, coaxing the sweetest sounds out of you.

And finally you came, with a loud scream and stars exploding behind your closed eyelids, your body slumping against her chest, your skin hot with sweat as she kept rubbing you through the orgasm.

Julie could've orgasmed from the sight alone, never in her life had she seen anything hotter and sweeter.

Her lips return to yours, swallowing the last bits of exhausted whines and moans, and you swear you could've gone up in flames any minute with how hot you felt.

"Let's take this to the bed, I'm far from done with you, Y/N."

#julie ertz imagines #uswnt imagines #julie ertz x reader #julie ertz #uswnt

254 notes · View notes

aethelflaedladyofmercia · 5 years ago

Text

In Control

5 Times Aziraphale Was Blindsided by Panic Attacks (+1 Time Crowley Helped Him Through It)

Today marks the 1-year anniversary of my first AO3 fic! Thank you SO MUCH to all my readers who have come with me on this long, strange, largely angsty Good Omens journey. This fic is my first 5+1, written a few months ago when the stress was getting me pretty bad. As always, I cope by abusing my favorite angel. Full fic available on AO3.

CW: Detailed panic attack descriptions

I. Dubrovnik

The first time it happened, Aziraphale had just arrived in Dubrovnik, ship sliding between the enormous cliffs that sheltered the bright red roofs of the port city. A towering stone castle stood atop the cliff to the west; it hadn’t been there last time Aziraphale visited, but was at least a century old already.

It was just a quick stop over, in and out, on his way to more pressing matters up north; low-profile work, protecting a few travelers, blessing a few churches.

But all during the journey, he had heard whispers, rumors that something evil lurked in the city.

What he should do was contact his superiors, asking for orders and recommendations. He had never failed to do so before.

Evidence of demonic work, he would say. Sometimes he would be given instructions on how to counteract the most likely lines of infernal influence; more often, he would be detoured, given a new path to his destination that avoided any confrontation. A few times, reinforcements had been sent, though always they were dedicated soldiers who were quick to smite. If any of Michael’s legions showed up – or worse, Sandalphon’s – well, that would be the end of any low-profile work for at least a century.

But it wasn’t fear of destroying his cover that kept him from calling Head Office. In fact, for once, it hadn’t even crossed his mind.

Instead, he stood at the prow of the ship, hands tapping at the rail, excitement mixed with nerves. Yes, he could sense the agent of Hell, even from here, like a faint scent on the breeze, and he knew Crowley could sense him, too. Five thousand years on Earth grants you a certain…familiarity.

Crowley would be waiting. Not a doubt in his mind. And woven all through his usual what ifs and be carefuls was the simple, buzzing happiness of seeing the demon again.

Docking took an eternity; Aziraphale had to resist the urge to simply miracle himself ashore. Why not? His charges had all been marked so that he could easily find them again, conveniently bump into them in the marketplace in time to join them on the next leg of his journey. He wasn’t carrying much baggage of note, nothing he couldn’t replace easily. Just a small teleportation, Heaven probably wouldn’t even notice…

With a thud, the plank was lowered, and the small group of travelers began making their way to the pier. Aziraphale joined the throng, moving slowly, slowly ashore…

By the time his feet reached solid ground – which seemed to tip for a moment but a quick miracle cured him of any lingering motion sickness – Aziraphale was already scanning the crowd and there – there – brilliant red hair barely contained by a black veil, deep red dress down to his ankles covered by an impossibly black overgown, covered in onyx and red coral, sleeves scandalously short. Tall and narrow and gliding through the crowd like a fish through water, like a shark, predatory smile that nevertheless made Aziraphale’s heart speed up and his stomach twist. He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t breathe.

Suddenly, all thoughts of Crowley were shoved aside by the doubts, the endless worries, surging to the surface: his assignment, his next report, the dinners, the lies, what he would say to Gabriel next month? What would he say if Gabriel showed up right now? He never should have come – should have reported in hours ago – should have never invited Crowley for oysters – should have – should have – should have –

His eyes were wet, but he wasn’t sad or happy or any of the things that usually brought tears, they were just there, in the corners. His fingers shook uncontrollably as he reached to wipe them away.

No, there wasn’t time for this, he needed to push the thoughts aside – make a list – deal with all of them, yes, start with – start with – start with – Breathe.

The first gasping, wheezing breath felt strangely voluntary, as if he were simply trying something new. What happens if I do this with my lungs instead? Then came another normal breath. See? Just experimenting. Now another wheeze.

But someone would notice. He should stop.

At which point he realized, all at once, that he had no control over anything. His body was simply doing what it would. He staggered, bending over, gasping, searching for breath. Tears began to run down his face and he sucked in one high, shrieking breath after another.

“Angel! Aziraphale! Are you – what’s wrong?”

This was absurd. He was drawing attention, making a scene right here by the water. The crowd was pushing away – people would notice – this wasn’t low-profile at all!

He needed to explain – needed to stop – but the world tilted dangerously, worse than the ship ever had.

“Can you hear me?” Two hands gripped at his shoulders, long fingers digging in. “Aziraphale!”

“Of…” he started, but was interrupted by another wheeze. It was strange. His mind could take everything in, perfectly logically, but his thoughts were spinning so fast they had become blank. It seemed that he was standing slightly apart from the body, watching it fall apart, watching the shaking hands fumble weakly for Crowley’s gown, tugging at the fabric, pulling him closer.

No, no, that wouldn’t do. He ordered the hands to let go, the legs to step back from the demon’s grip. They obeyed, but the brain immediately got worse, dizzy, nauseated, and Aziraphale felt himself drifting even farther away from the body as it fell, crouching, hugging its own knees.

“Fine.” He forced the lips to say. “Just. Air.”

“You aren’t fine!” Again those gentle narrow fingers reached for him, brushed across his cheeks, which were now coated with a stream of tears Aziraphale couldn’t control. “Aziraphale, look at me!”

His eyes finally moved to fully take in Crowley, crouching before him in that lovely dress, curls breaking free of the veil to dance in the sea breeze around golden eyes, wide with fear.

It made his chest hurt, worse than anything, as if his heart were trying to escape entirely.

“Heaven,” Crowley said suddenly. “You need to go to Heaven. Now. There’s – your body is dying.”

“No—” Aziraphale’s head shook frantically, partly just from the tremors. “Don’t – what do I say? You’re here—”

And then Crowley was gone, leaving no trace except a wave of demonic energy that would surely be felt by any angel on Earth and many in Heaven besides.

Enough of this. He tried to breathe normally, to stand up, to let go of his legs – anything to return to some semblance of normalcy. His body refused to listen.

When the angels arrived – one of Uriel’s units, thank goodness, at least they had some idea of how to act like they belonged – he was still crouched in the street, breathing barely under control.

(He could stop the tears, he could stop the gasping, he could stop all of it. Aziraphale was in control.)

He spent two days in Heaven, being poked and prodded as experts attempted to determine the nature of the demonic attack that had left one of their best agents helpless in the street.

(Aziraphale felt the usual mix of pride and shame at that – he only ever seemed to be called one of our best agents when he’d failed to live up to the title.)

But in the end, there was nothing – no sign of any attack, damage or illness – some heightened hormone levels, but that could easily be an aftereffect of the stress on the body. There was some discussion of replacing the body with another one, better functioning, better suited to Earthly combat.

(No one asked Aziraphale’s opinion on that. It was just a piece of equipment, after all, even if he’d become rather attached to it.)

In the end, Aziraphale was sent back to Earth, almost too late to reconnect with his charges, with strict instructions to contact Head Office if the demon attempted another strike.

(Crowley would never. It was a terrifying thought, to be so confident in one’s nemesis. But Crowley would never.)

Read the rest on AO3!

#good omens prime #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #asexual ineffable husbands #aziraphale and crowley #aziraphale #pov aziraphale #cw: panic attack #crowley #protective crowley #anxious aziraphale #coping strategies #happy ending #my writing #ao3 #ao3 link #happy wordiversary to me

38 notes · View notes

hateswifi · 5 years ago

Text

Rising from the Ashes: Of Decisions and Old Friends

So this is Part Nine here is to my Master List and Part Eight. Just a short little chapter, not even 2k words. Sorry my dudes.

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

"Ladybug, my name is Superboy," he says as he sits beside her.

"What's up? I'm Ladybug heroine of Paris, who decided in a need for a change of scenery," she greets, her eyes never leaving the skyline.

"Nothing much just ruined my brother's relationship," he shrugs dejectedly. "What's got you down in the dumps?"

"I have to leave again. The life I've been building is going to be destroyed," she says practically emotionless.

"Why is that? If you like it shouldn't you try and fix it?" Superboy asks, looking at the poor girl.

"As guardian of the miraculous and holder of the miraculous of creation and the ladybug, anyone who isn't a miraculous holder is not allowed to know my identity. Somehow my boyfriend figured it out not even a week into our relationship. I don't want to put him in danger because I'm pretty sure I love him," Ladybug explains, standing, she heard more footsteps.

"There you are Superboy," Nightwing says, walking towards him. "Robin has calmed down and doesn't want to kill you. So you can come back to the Batcave."

"I didn't realize that Hood was going to post that," he groans, standing as well.

"You live you learn," Nightwing shrugs. "How are you doing, Spot?"

"Tired," she replies with a yawn.

"Yeah me too. By the way LB you might want to get your injuries checked out," Superboy pointed out.

"What injuries?" she asks, confused.

"Ya know the stab wound, burns, and multiple broken bones. There are so many you shouldn't be alive," he answered.

"How can you see those?" she asks, looking to where the stab wound had been weeks ago.

"X-ray vision," he said, tapping his temple. "How are you not dead though?"

"How can you still be walking with a healing stab wound and broken bones?" Nightwing asked, sitting on the ledge, patting the area around him telling them to sit too.

"Part of my miraculous' power is Lucky Charm which is what is given to me to solve a problem. Back when I was fighting akumas I would use the Lucky Charm after the fight to fix Paris. I didn't realize my injuries would still show up, not gonna lie. During the last battle, I took a hit for my partner, Chat Noir, because he was protecting Ryuko. I got stabbed with Hawkmoth's cane, sword combo thing," she explained. "I guess the injuries are held together by magic until my body naturally heals them."

"Well, I gotta start packing, bye you guys! I wish you the best of luck with Gotham's criminals," She said, jumping off the building her yo-yo twirling.

"Packing? What did she mean by that?" Nightwing asked, standing. Jon then explained everything she had told him before he had arrived. "You know he's going to kill you."

"I figured, but I have a plan to help fix this," he said, standing before flying back to Metropolis.

"Telling me would be helpful and you know give me and probably Robin piece of mind," Nightwing shouted after him. "Or not that's fine too." He ran back to the manor after finishing his patrol.

Marinette decides not to pack tonight and also decides to go see Chloe tomorrow. She falls asleep fast after showering. When she wakes up the next morning she texts Chloe asking if Ann can come to see her. After a positive response, she packs an overnight bag including her pajamas, an olive green light jacket, a white shirt, blue skinny jeans, and gray ankle boots. The second outfit she packed is for Christmas day, which is a red off the shoulder v-neck dress, the bottom part is flowy and reaches the knee, black tights and would wear the grey boots from her last outfit. She packed her hairbrush, toothbrush, her charger, her sketchbook, and the miracle box. After she gets dressed as Ann in her outfit Luka inspired, she transforms and teleports to Chloe's room. She continues to wear the horse miraculous as glasses so she didn't have to put them away.

"Hey, Marinette, what's up? I just saw you a couple of days ago, not that I'm complaining," Chloe said, hugging her.

"Damian found out about me being Ladybug, now I have to move again, because no one can no," Marinette said, setting her bag down. "I'm just going to stay until tomorrow night. I hope you don't mind. For Christmas Master Fu said I could stay with him."

"That's fine, but what's the matter with Damian knowing? It's a different time from when you were a hero during Hawkmoth's reign. Have you talked to him about it?" Chloe asked, rubbing her back.

"No, I was asked to spend Christmas with him, but I don't think he will want to after the exit I made," Marinette said, rubbing her eyes.

"I don't think you should make any rash decisions before you talk with him," Chloe said, standing. "Want to go for a walk? I heard André's is nearby," Chloe said, leading them out of her room. They walk to the lock bridge where André's cart was set up.

"Hello girls," André greets. "I see almond for his lips and skin, mint for his piercing green eyes, and dark chocolate for his dark past and black hair, but it seems you've met him. For the young blonde--"

"No, I don't want to know," Chloe interrupts. "Can I just have dark chocolate?"

"That I can do," André says, scooping the ice-cream as they pay. "Have a good day you two."

"Let's take a selfie," Chloe says, pulling out her phone. They hold up their ice-cream with the Seine and lock on the bridge in the background. Chloe posts the picture with this caption:

'I'm here with my girl, Ann. <3. Miss her, so glad we can spend a couple of days before Christmas. #Blessed #MakingMemories #Andrés'icecream'

@adrienagrestebrand

‘Why didn’t you tell me that she was coming! And you guys got ice cream without me and @Kagami.Ts and @luka.coufaine! I’m hurt’

"You didn't tag me in that right?" Marinette asks, licking her ice-cream cone.

"Nah, you're dead remember?" Chloe says, brushing off her concerns.

Marinette giggles, but that is interrupted by Marinette's phone. She sees Damian's number. "I'm going to take this," shes says, answering the phone. "Hi, Damian."

"Hi, Marinette, can we talk in person?" he asked, his voice being cracked by the distance.

"I... I.. can't at the moment," Marinette said, crossing her phoneless hand in front of her.

"Ann! It's so good to see you!" came a voice.

"Marinette, who was that?" he asks.

"Ummm... that was Luke, but this isn't the best time right now," she responds, waving at Luka.

"Luka? Isn't he in Paris? Where are you?" Damian asked she could hear stuff shuffling in the background.

"I'm in Paris," she said, slowly.

"Please, Angel I'm--" the line crackled and hung up before he could say anything.

"I love you, Prince," she said, bringing the phone down from her ear with a tear forming in her eyes. She walks back to the group because Luka, Adrien, and Kagami had joined them while she was on the phone. "Hey, guys, I think I'm going to visit my parents. Luka may I borrow your hoodie, I want to be able to cover my face."

"Ya sure Bug," he said, pulling off the Jagged Stone sweatshirt. "I love the outfit you made by the way. I heard I inspired it."

"Yes, your guitar solo inspired me," She explained, the hoodie over her head. "Thank you, guys. Will I see you for dinner?"

"Yes, we decided to eat together at a small cafe called, KB Café," Chloe says, hugging her goodbye.

"See you later," She said, waving bye.

She walks in silence to the graveyard where her parents are buried. She kneels in between her parents' grave. That is until a tap on her shoulder. Alya.

"Hi, your name is Ann, right?" Alya asked, kneeling beside her.

"Yes," She responds politely in her practiced British accent. Even though Marinette and Alya weren't friends anymore doesn't mean she didn't feel the loss of her or maybe she just wanted to hear what Alya thought of her. "What is your name?"

"I'm Alya. I was Marinette's best friend for a long time," she answers, looking at Marinette's grave. "You're friends with Chloe, Adrien, Luka, and Kagami, right?"

"Uhh... yes. I used to be friends with her when Chloe and Marinette used to be friends as children. I miss the girl, she helped me with my bullying problem by showing me my worth," Ann explained, trying to make her feel a bit guilty.

"She was so nice to everyone, I think I lost sight of it," Alya said, a tear rolling down her cheek.

After awhile Ann broke the silence. "Ya know, Kagami, Luka, Chloe, and Adrien, they aren't bad people. They protect people, who are family to them. Their blood family might not be the best, but who's family is, they have each other's backs. They face things together head-on," Ann explained, standing. "I wish you the best in life. I hope you can forgive yourself and move forward. I hope you find a family bond like mine someday. Goodbye." She heard Alya crying as she left.

When she arrived at the cafe they agreed on, she took off the hoodie Luka gave her to borrow, The group arrived not too long after. They ordered the food and ate happily they talked about what they're doing tomorrow and on Christmas. Kagami and Adrien's families are spending Christmas together. Luka was leaving tomorrow to see his grandparents with his sister and mom. Chloe's mom is flying in tonight to be in Paris till New Year's. She decided to text Master Fu about staying tomorrow and Christmas so Chloe could spend more time with her family.

"You guys want to come back to the hotel to watch animes," Chloe asks, splitting the check with Adrien.

"Sounds like a plan," Adrien agrees, standing and pushing in his chair.

Once they get back to Chloe's room, Marinette takes out her contacts and takes off her wig. She wears a hoodie to bed just in case someone, like Chloe’s mother, comes in her room. They all watch anime for a while until Luka and Adrien have to leave, then put on cliche Hallmark movies. The girls fall asleep together on Chloe's couch.

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

Tag list (Open):

@northernbluetongue @melhuney @ladysblackcat @sturchling @otaku4312 @g-arya @smolplantmum @bluefyoto94 @echpr @moonlightstar64 @thesunanditsangel @cutechip @heaven428 @elmokingkong @kass-is-weird @niza13149 @urbanpineapplefarmer @ginamarie1512 @chocolatecatstheron @iggy-of-fans @crazylittlemunchkin @komatsuna-yuki @weird-pale-blonde-person @ellerahs @sinnamonroill @daminett4life @queenmj10 @indecisive-mess-named-me @reyna-avila-ramirez-alreanaldo

#miraculous ladybug au #alya salt #ml new life au #ml salt fic #damimari #damian x marinette #damian wayne #batfam #marinette x batfam #maribat #light angst #marinette dupain cheng #lila salt #ml x dc #wifiwrites

281 notes · View notes

a-solitary-marshmallow · 5 years ago

Text

Do No Harm Take No Shit Chapter 7: Fox Trap

Adrien cursed and grabbed Marinette’s wrist, ready to yank her away. They had to transform, to catch Lila before she did too much damage. The akuma fluttered through the agape classroom window in a flurry of black wings. It swooped down towards the still spitting Chloe, onto to be blown away as Sabrina swung her folder at it in panic. Ms. Bustier cried out, “Students, please, stay calm! Everyone needs to leave the classroom immediately!”

Way ahead of you. Adrien and Marinette were already darting for the door. Adrien glanced over his shoulder just in time to see the akuma dart towards a grinning Lila, then flutter past her to land in Alya’s phone.

He froze. Lila let out a squawk of indignation.

A magenta haze lit up Alya’s face and sent students spilling away from her with frightened yelps. Alya’s eyebrows furrowed. She glared at something that wasn’t there.

“Yes, of course I wanna kill her. But I won’t hurt Marinette more by becoming a – hey, don’t take that tone with me, old man – get out of my head!” Alya clutched at her phone with white fingers. “Fuck off!”

She threw her phone to the ground and stomped on it, cracking it in half and sending the akuma fluttering free. It darted around the crowd of confused students before being snatched up in an all too familiar hand. Marinette cursed and now she was dragging Adrien into the hallway as Lila was engulfed by black smoke.

“Well.” Adrien panted as they dashed down the stairs, hand in hand. “I didn’t see that coming.”

They bolted into an empty classroom and slammed the door shut. Plagg wriggled out of Adrien’s pocket with a snicker.

“Oh, is it time to beat up the liar already?”

“We just have to de-akumatise her, Plagg.” Marinette said crossly. “Did anyone see where the akuma went?”

“No, I didn’t.” Adrien shot Plagg a considering look that he hoped communicated, ‘maybe a cataclysm to the face will help de-akumatise her’. Plagg grinned back at him with wicked fangs.

Marinette nodded determinedly. “We don’t know what she could be doing to everyone! Tikki, spots-”

The door exploded inwards with a percussive boom.

Adrien went tumbling, banging his elbows on the hard floor as he rolled to a stop. He groaned and picked himself up on his throbbing elbows, hearing Marinette sitting up somewhere behind him.

“Ow.” Adrien mumbled.

“There you are~” A saccharine voice sounded. Adrien looked up in irritation to see an akuma in the doorway. She might have resembled Volpina, once. If not for the extra bulk in her suit, and the fur rippling down her back and arms like that of a demented werewolf. Her hair bristled bright red and was bunched up with black ribbons that matched the black claw marks streaking her suit. Her mouth was a wide red slit as she cooed, “Oh, poor baby, did you hurt yourself? Well, you’ll be hurting a lot more when Vulpine’s done with you!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake-”

Vulpine snatched Adrien’s wrist in a deathly tight grip, claws pricking through his sleeve. She leered at him. “Language. Wouldn’t want to upset our fans, would we? I’ll have time to punish Maribrat later, for now we can have some fun together!”

Adrien yelped as Vulpine wrenched him to his feet. Marinette shouted but the akuma had already dragged him down the halls. She was strong. Did Volpina get bitten by a radioactive fox and become fox villain squared? Adrien’s feet dragged on the ground as he uselessly tried to regain his footing.

“Let me go!”

Vulpine tittered. She was heading for the front gates. Where was she planning on taking him? The students they passed shrieked and darted back into their classrooms. Adrien yelped as Vulpine cheerily hopped down the stairway and strode out into the busy Parisian street. A bystander screamed, “Akuma!”

“What do you say we go somewhere more public?” Vulpine cooed. Adrien tried and failed to wrench his arm away from her. Where was Plagg? Adrien had lost him in the explosion. “Hmm, I’m thinking the Eiffel tower? Everyone will have a good view of us there! Come one, come all, to Paris’s first of many public executions!”

Vulpine sprang into the sky, dragging Adrien along with her, only to be knocked out of the air. Adrien screeched as Vulpine lost her grip on his arm, but he was only in free-fall for a few moments. He slammed into a pair of familiar red arms. Ladybug landed lightly on the school roof.

“Are you okay?” She demanded. Adrien nodded mutely. God, was Marinette always this beautiful? She placed him down with a quick call of, “Get to safety,” and then she sprang forward towards the cursing Vulpine.

He had to go and help her. But first things first, find his kwami. Adrien bolted down the stairwell and followed the trail of destruction back to the half-crumbling room. His shoes crunched in rubble as he skidded through the empty doorframe.

“Plagg! Where are you?”

No answer. Adrien spun in a wide circle. Where could Plagg have gone? Where would he be? Maybe he would follow after Ladybug, or go off to try and find Adrien himself, or-

“Adrien!”

Adrien spun to catch the flying kwami and cuddle him close. Plagg purred against his chest.

“I was so worried.” Adrien confessed. “Plagg, I’m so sorry I lost you. I promise I’ll make it up to you but right now we have to help Ladybug.”

“Fine.” Plagg grumbled, but his rumbling purrs betrayed him.

“Plagg, claws out!”

When Chat Noir bounded into the school courtyard, there was no sign of Ladybug or Vulpine. A boy huddled near the gate pointed, and Chat Noir nodded in thanks before leaping to the next building in that direction – headed straight towards the Eiffel tower. Vulpine was a fox on a mission, and she had said ‘the first of many public executions’. Ladybug would probably be just as good as Adrien Agreste in her eyes. Which meant he had to hurry.

It didn’t take an expert eye to spot them (hehe, spot) next to the Eiffel tower. Vulpine wasn’t the subtlest of akumas – she’d seemed to have given up on nuance and stealth in favour of possessing the brute strength to fling cars. Chat Noir dodged a grey Sedan mid-air and slammed his baton down on Vulpine’s head from behind. She roared and spun on him only to have Ladybug’s yo-yo wrap around her neck. Vulpine grabbed at the wire and pulled. Chat Noir’s eyes widened.

Ladybug was yanked forward with a cry and slammed into him, sending them tumbling. Pain flashed through his midsection. Aaaaaaand she’d landed knee-first on his stomach. Great.

“Ow!”

Ladybug was all elbows and knees, but she jumped up quickly. Chat Noir wheezed on the ground. Her eyes widened. “Chat, are you okay?”

“My pancreas has seen better days,” he muttered, “But I’m good.”

A cackle drew their attention. Vulpine had already scaled the Eiffel tower, and she hung tauntingly from its top platform. She shouted something but she was too far away for Chat Noir to hear. He sat up, wincing, and shouted back.

“WHAT?”

Vulpine’s yelled reply was too quiet to him to understand. Ladybug pulled Chat Noir to his feet.

“She knows we can’t hear her, right?”

“Let her have her moment.” Ladybug shrugged. “Look at it this way – we don’t have to hear her monologue.”

“Excellent point. Shall we?”

“After you.” Ladybug smiled and spun her yo-yo menacingly. “Let’s go catch us a fox.”

For someone who was supposedly working with Hawkmoth, Vulpine was surprisingly easy to defeat.

Her power as Volpina had come from her illusions and craftiness. This new form might have been physically stronger, but it didn’t nearly compare to the might of Stoneheart or Gorizilla, and right now she had the battle strategy of a drunk lizard. Too caught up in her raging to care about anything else, she screeched and swung at the heroes wildly. It was all too easy for Chat Noir to trip her over the side of the tower; for Ladybug to lash her yo-yo around the villain’s ankle and stop her mid-fall; for them to reel her up and restrain her. Not even a lucky charm or cataclysm needed. Chat Noir grunted as the furious akuma thrashed in his grip.

“Where’s her akuma?” He shouted. Ladybug dodged a swinging claw.

“I don’t know!” Ladybug darted forward to yank Vulpine’s orange bracelet from her wrist. It cracked, but nothing came out of it. “Damn.”

“YOU’LL NEVER FIND IT!” Vulpine yowled. “I’ll destroy you and then I’ll destroy those idiots in my class and I’ll deliver your Miraculouses to Hawkmoth-” Vulpine tore free of Chat’s grip and lunged towards Ladybug. He yelped. Ladybug was faster in her reaction.

“Oh my god shut up!”

She decked the liar across the face.

Vulpine shrieked in shock and clapped a hand to her bleeding nose, giving Ladybug enough time to snatch the ribbons from her hair and tear them in two. The akuma fluttered free.

“No!” Vulpine lunged at it. Ladybug’s yo-yo snatched the akuma from her fingertips and snapped back into the heroine’s hand. Vulpine screamed in frustration. “No! Give that back! I will DESTROY you, you lemon-faced mother fucking insect-” The smoke engulfed her, leaving Lila Rossi to continue her threats and stamp her foot. “-two-faced goody-two-shoes bitch!”

Ladybug released the purified akuma. Lila grabbed for it with frustrated tears in her eyes, but Ladybug caught her wrist in an iron grip. Lila cursed her out again.

“Miss Rossi, I am putting you in police custody.” Ladybug said coolly. Lila shrieked and tried to tear free but Ladybug’s grip was immovable. “If you resist, I will incapacitate you. Do you understand? Today you have knowingly abetted a terrorist-”

“Oh FUCK YOU!”

Ladybug hummed and twisted Lila’s arm, spinning the girl to lock her wrists behind her back. “I did warn you. Chat?”

“My pleasure, Milady.” Chat Noir stepped forward to take hold of Lila’s wrists while Ladybug cast her miraculous cure. He took malicious pleasure in holding her tighter than necessary, ignoring her furious shouts. A few claw marks weren’t such a big deal. Not compared to the complete and utter shitshow she was about to face.

Chat Noir probably shouldn’t have taken so much pleasure from Lila’s suffering. Well – maybe Marinette was just a better person than him. She was gracious and forgiving enough for the both of them, even if she had earned more than her fair share of wrath and revenge.

Speaking of revenge and payback and what have you, a company had gathered at the bottom of the Eiffel tower. Chat Noir’s keen vision picked out a few police officers, Chloe – was that Sabrina nearby, talking to her father? – and an unfamiliar woman who was radiating bad vibes even from here. Chat Noir hadn’t had a mum for a while now, but he could vividly remember the horror that was a mother’s scorn. Probably Lila’s mother, the diplomat, from the official suit she was wearing and the cropped-short brown hair.

They took the elevator down. Chat Noir would have preferred just dropping down to ground level (and catching Lila once he’d landed, of course, Plagg may have whispered the opposite in her ear but he wasn’t totally heartless) but Ladybug thought it best to take the slower way. Which made sense – Lila could twist a quick descent into stories of superhero brutality. Chat Noir did not need more legal trouble after that debacle with Copycat. So the elevator it was. Lila had finally run out of insults and stood glowering the whole time.

When they stepped out onto solid land, the brown-haired woman was there to meet them. Lila let out a gasp and her face instantly crumpled into a teary expression of fear. Chat Noir was impressed by how quickly she’d adapted.

“Mama! I promise it’s not what it looks like-”

“Is it true?” Ms. Rossi demanded at the heroes, ignoring her daughter’s cry. “The stealing and tripping a girl down the stairs and lying about schools being closed?”

“I’m afraid so, Ma’am.” Ladybug replied evenly. It was only through years of knowing her that Chat Noir noticed the twitching of her lips and realized she was carefully hiding a smirk. Ms. Rossi ran a hand through her hair.

“And – the akuma attacks, how long do they last for? I thought – it’s barely been half an hour, I just got here, and she’s already…”

“A couple hours at most.” Chat Noir slid in smoothly. He glanced over the diplomat’s shoulder to where Officer Raincomprix was hurriedly approaching. “Like always. Has someone told you differently?”

“You could say that.” Ms. Rossi said faintly. Lila tried again.

“Mama, you have to help me, Ladybug is lying about me and-”

“Hush.” Ms. Rossi silenced her with a lifted hand and a quickly-recovering glare. “I’ve had enough of your tales, young lady. There are policemen here to talk to you. My job is in question. So you can hold your tongue!”

Lila’s face flushed red with indignation. “Mama-”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Ms. Rossi yelled. At that moment Officer Raincomprix arrived and Chat Noir happily handed Lila over to police custody. She howled the whole time, of course, while Ms. Rossi looked on tiredly. Chat Noir wasn’t very well versed in law but he did recognise words like ‘truancy’ and ‘assault’ and ‘defamation of character’. Damn, Marinette had even got Jagged in on this, and boy did the rockstar have a bone to pick with Lila – at least, judging from the length of the list of charges. Maybe claiming a forty-year-old man had written songs about a fourteen-year-old girl wasn’t the best idea Miss Rossi had come up with.

He and Ladybug watched, mostly out of spite but also a little bit to make sure there were no issues, as Lila was arrested. Ladybug slipped her hand into his and he squeezed back. After another moment Chat Noir leaned in to whisper, “We should probably get back. Everyone will be worried.”

Ladybug nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go.” She turned to the small assembly and sent a cursory wave before flinging out her yoyo and zinging away. Chat Noir sent a two-fingered salute and followed.

#writing #my writing #dnhtns #ladybug #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #fic #chat noir

50 notes · View notes

get-your-fics · 5 years ago

Text

Suburbia - Part Four

Man in Black

Summary: You have the seemingly perfect life, with the perfect house and the perfect husband. But the illusion threatens to be unraveled when you start to have strange but familiar nightmares.

Pairing: Albert Wesker x reader

Series warnings: Smut, dub-con/non-con, breeding kink, sex pollen, blood, violence

PART THREE

“You've been a very bad girl while I was away.”

His heavy boot made a solid thud as he took a step towards you. “Don’t move!” you shouted, pressing yourself against the edge of the desk behind you as much as you could. “Don’t come any closer!”

“Or what? What are you going to do?” he chuckled, but didn’t move. “You wouldn’t want to do anything rash now, dear. You’ll over exert yourself-”

“Don’t talk to me like that,” you cut him off through gritted teeth. “What the fuck is going on?” He didn’t say anything, merely stared at you. You felt like your blood was boiling in your veins. “Answer me!” You slammed your fist down on the desk, your voice bouncing off of the white walls. “I deserve answers!”

“Didn’t you find all your precious answers in those files?” He gestured to the manila folders scattered across the desk. It looked like a hurricane had blown through it. “I have to say, I’m surprised you caught on. But, you always were too smart for your own good.”

“Where are we?” you asked.

“We’re in an underground testing facility. Umbrella ran simulations here in order to sell the T-virus to government agencies worldwide,” he said. “Right now, we’re in a simulation of a suburban neighborhood. I thought it would be effective to replace your memory with artificial memories we concocted and place you here, that it would make you more compliant with the project.” He shrugged. “Unfortunately, the memory erasure had some unforeseen side effects. Hence the nightmares.”

“So you were just going to treat me like a pet?” you spat. “You thought it was okay to keep me locked up in this cage and breed me like a dog? That you could turn me into your little trophy housewife, have me cook and clean for you with the wool pulled over my eyes and get away with it?”

“Cage?” He laughed as if you had meant what you had said to be amusing. “Look around you, (Y/N).” He spun around in a circle, his arms spread wide. “This is hardly a cage. I was going to let you live obliviously in domestic bliss. I was offering you another chance at a good life, the kind of life that’s been extinct since the world ended.”

“You’re the one who ripped that chance away from me, from everyone, in the first place!” You pointed your finger accusingly at him.

“You act like I’m some kind of monster.” He pressed his gloved hand to his chest in mock offense. “Tell me, was I ever mean to you? Did I ever hurt you? Didn’t I always keep you fed and happy and content? Was I ever anything but the nice, dutiful, caring husband to you?”

You shook your head. “None of that matters. I was living a lie.”

“You can choose to see it that way, if you wish,” he said. “I was doing you a favor, (Y/N). Things for you could’ve been much worse.” He gestured to the computer, the paused video still displayed on its screen. “Well, you’ve seen the footage.”

You glanced at the video over your shoulder before looking back at him. “Was any of it real?” Your mind conjured up memories of coffee dates, of fancy restaurant dinners, of him getting down on one knee and popping the question, of him kissing you on your wedding day as you stared at him. But they were all fake, artificial memories implanted into your brain. They were hazy and lackluster, but all the emotion was still there. And even with all this new information, that didn’t make it just disappear. “Was it all pretend?”

“You mean do I love you?” You stared down at your bare feet. The fact that part of you still hoped this man loved you revolted you to the core. “I have respect for you, (Y/N). Love is trivial in comparison. You are the future - the superior evolution of mankind. You are the only one worthy of carrying my child.” His words made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. “With our combined genetics, we could improve upon the human race. Think of the things we could accomplish if we worked together.”

“I will never work with you.” You shook your head. “You just want to create monsters. You destroyed humanity out of greed. You kill people.”

He quirked a brow. “And you don’t?”

“I kill people because I have to,” you argued.

“You kill because it’s in your blood,” he said. “You see the weak and you eradicate them, making way for the exceptional species.”

“You’re sick,” you sneered. “You’re so obsessed with your perverted, demented version of saving the world, you don’t realize you’re ruining it. You don’t care about me or anyone else. You only care about yourself.”

He tutted disapprovingly. “Such harsh words, little bird.”

In an instant, you smacked his cheek with a resounding slap. His face fell to the side, his sunglasses sliding off his nose and breaking on impact with the tile. You could already see a red handprint spreading across his cheek. “Don’t call me that,” you hissed.

He looked back at you, and you gasped. His eyes - they were a bright, violent red. Every other time you had seen them, they were a clear, sky blue. But now, his pupils were black slits in the middle of each eyeball like a snake’s.

“You don’t want to do this, (Y/N),” he threatened. A golden tendril of hair had escaped his perfectly coiffed hairdo and now hung loose down his forehead. “We can forget this ever happened. We can go on living a perfect, normal life, and you can pretend like you’re none the wiser.”

“I would never agree to live in this house with you, Wesker.” You gripped the edge of the desk. You couldn’t trust him. The second you were no longer of use to him, he would throw you away like a worn-out toy.

“Then I will be forced to take you in. We’ll wipe your memory again and start fresh. And this time we’ll make sure to flesh out the details.” His lips curled into a sinister smirk. “Or maybe it’ll be back to the holding cell. Now why don’t you make it as easy as possible for yourself and come willingly?”

You readied yourself. “I’m not going down without a fight.”

He rose to his full height and cracked his knuckles. “Suit yourself.”

You threw a punch at him. He dodged your fist and latched onto your arm. He used your momentum against you and flipped you over his shoulder onto the metal table behind him. You slid off of it and landed on the ground, the wind knocked out of you.

He walked around the table and strode towards you effortlessly. Once he was within reach, you kicked at his kneecaps. He stumbled back, giving you enough time to leap to your feet. You swung at him again. He moved out of the way, but you learned from your mistake and brought your other hand up to connect with his jaw. He recovered quickly and pushed his heavy boot into your stomach.

You were knocked backwards, sending several test tubes crashing to the floor. You picked up a shard of a flask and stabbed it into his neck as he came towards you. He barely batted an eye. He plucked it out as if he was brushing off dust, unfazed by the blood dribbling out of the puncture wound in his neck.

He charged at you again, this time armed with the broken piece of glass. You ducked just in time as he thrust it at you, narrowly avoiding his hit. You retaliated with a blow to his side. He jabbed the glass into your hand as you did so. You let out a blood curdling scream as it sunk through your flesh. You gripped it and ripped it out with a yelp, discarding the fragmented pieces to the floor. You watched as the wound ceased leaking blood and closed itself up all on its own.

Wesker swiped at your ankles, and you dropped to the ground. You cried out as bits of glass scratched at and protruded from your skin. They crunched under his boots as he stopped in front of you. He buried a hand in your hair and dragged you off the floor. He hauled you off of the ground, your toes barely brushing the tile. You wrapped your hands around his in an attempt to lessen the pressure on your scalp and flailed your legs to kick at him desperately.

“Maybe we should have some fun first.” He pressed you back against the wall and slipped his hand under your nightgown. “One last go around for old times sake.”

His hand crept closer towards your clothed core, and you brought your leg up to knee him in the crotch. He let go of you with a grunt. You landed on your feet and regained your balance enough to kick him in the chest. He flew backwards, ending up on the other side of the room. You came at him with fists flying and teeth bared. You landed a few successful punches before he grabbed both your arms and pushed you back.

He wrapped his fingers around your throat and lifted you up. He slammed your back against the wall and tightened his hold on you. He stared at you with pure rage and fury in his glowing, red eyes. He squeezed until gray dots started to form over your vision, and you felt your lungs start to deflate as the oxygen left them.

“Just... do it...” you choked out.

His unwavering stare faltered, and his expression softened. His eyes faded to a warm amber, and the hard, straight line of his mouth twisted into a frown. He loosened his grip on you and slowly set you back down on the ground.

You spat out blood and looked up at him. “You do love me.” You flashed him a lopsided smirk.

He blinked, and his eyes turned red again. “Don’t be foolish,” he scoffed. “You’re more valuable to us alive.”

But something in the way he had looked at you told you otherwise. “Well, the only way you’ll take me in is if you kill me.”

You broke from his grip and roundhouse kicked him in the face. He staggered back, and you approached him again, fists raised. You threw a punch, but he caught your arm, twisting it. “Have you given up yet?” He threw you to the ground. His expression was stone cold and stoic. “We can do this forever, and you’ll never get anywhere.”

You slowly started to push yourself up again, but he stepped his boot-clad foot in the middle of your back, keeping you down. You knew you were both equally matched and could go at this for hours to no avail. But you also knew that he had a weakness you didn’t.

You spotted a green test tube that had rolled under the desk. You reached for it, stretching your arm as much as you possibly could. Your fingertips just barely brushed the glass. Wesker got out a syringe and uncapped it. He bent down so he was at your level as you got the tube within your grasp. Just as he was about to sedate you, you reached behind yourself and injected it into his neck before he could do anything.

He let out an angered growl and backed away from you. The syringe slipped from his grip and clattered to the ground. He grappled for the metal table to steady himself, pressing a hand against where you had injected him. He panted and fell to his knees, his skin turning sallow and pale as his T-virus levels fluctuated.

You rolled onto your back and noticed a handgun duct taped to the bottom of the desk. You tore it off and rose from the ground. You cocked the gun and aimed it at him.

He looked up at you and cracked a grin. “You won’t make it out of here alive. Even if you do, there’s nowhere to go.”

“It’s worth a shot,” you replied, and then you pulled the trigger.

The blast echoed as the gun went off. He looked down as blood seeped out of the bullet hole right where his heart was. He clutched his chest, blood running through the gaps in his fingers, and slumped back against the wall. His ragged breaths grew soft and shallow with each passing second. His arm dropped to his side, and his head lolled as he went silent.

You lowered the gun and stood still. Your heart pounding against your rib cage and your blood rushing in your veins were the only sounds in the now quiet room. You hesitantly padded across the tile towards him. You stopped right in front of him and poked at him with your toe. His body remained limp. His eyes were once again amber, blank and void with nothing behind them as he stared off into space. And this time he wouldn’t be getting up.

You felt something wet hit your cheek and swiped at it. You couldn’t stop the onslaught of tears from coming, and before you knew it, you were full on sobbing. You fell to your knees in front of him and lowered your head, clawing at your chest as if your heart wanted to burst out. You blamed it on the fake memories, that you were designed to react this way, but you knew deep down part of you had wanted to continue to live with him in ignorant bliss.

You wiped away your tears with the back of your hand. Your face was red and splotchy, your eyes bloodshot and swollen from crying. Your nightgown was tattered and practically hung off of your body in shreds. Every bone and muscle in your body ached. You imagined you resembled the way you had appeared in the video, tortured and battle-worn.

Suddenly, there was a sharp prick in your neck. You furrowed your brows as a buzzing filled your ears and something foreign pumped through your veins. The world spun around you, and everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. You teetered forward and collapsed on top of Wesker’s cold, dead corpse. The position you were in allowed you to see behind you, and the last thing you saw were men wearing thick, plated armor and gas masks moving towards you with their guns raised before everything went black.

You slowly came to. You were lying on an examination table in a room with beige walls that smelled like bleach. You were wearing a hospital gown and hooked up to some sort of machine with a screen.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you heard a voice whisper to you. You looked up to see a face hovering above you, and when you focused in on it, you recognized it as your husband’s. “You passed out once you got on the table. Don’t worry, the doc says it’s perfectly normal,” he placated you.

You looked down at your body and noticed something off: there was, barely perceivable but visible none the less, the start of a growing bump along your abdomen. You must be about two or three months along. No, in fact, you knew you were - you could remember the day you had told him about the two little lines that had shown up on the test and how he had smiled at you with all the love in the world.

“Congratulations, little bird. It’s a girl.” He placed a protective hand over your stomach. A wide grin spread across his face, bordering on wolfish. “The first of many.”

EPILOGUE

#resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil fanfic #albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker x you #albert wesker fanfic #albert wesker fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #dark!fic

215 notes · View notes

theoriginalladya · 4 years ago

Note

December Challenge #13 Confessions for Lachlen/Kaidan

from this prompt list

On AO3 here

Thank you so much for this!!! This one is set post-War and they’re still in Scotland. Enjoy!!!

(under cut because, as usual, it got looooooooooong! lol)

~~~

“I have a confession to make.”

The rug in front of the fireplace has become their evening ritual. Every night for the three months they have been in Scotland, Lachlan lies with his head pillowed on his good arm, staring into the burning blaze in the fireplace while Kaidan works the kinks out of the aching and still healing muscles and scar tissue of his hips and shoulders. He knows full well he could be suffering from worse things, has in the past at times, but like most nights, he is nearly asleep, the last bit of consciousness hanging by a thread. Still, Kaidan’s words are enough to startle him back to full awareness.

Blinking sleep from his eyes, Lachlan pushes himself up enough to glance back over his shoulder. Around a yawn and in a raspy voice, he asks, “What?”

Whiskey-amber eyes meet blue with a hint of mischief. A flutter of unease works through him, and in that moment, Lachlan knows he’s been had. “You bloody eejit!” he hisses, then flops to the floor once more, muttering beneath his breath.

“What?” Kaidan leans forward and presses a kiss to the tattoo between his shoulder blades, murmuring, “I do, you know.”

Lachlan huffs. “Like hell! That glint in your eyes says otherwise.”

“You don’t believe me?”

Another yawn sneaks in, encouraged as Kaidan’s hands still work around his bad hip. “I believe,” Lachlan says after the yawn passes, “you’re attempting to … what’s the expression? Pull my leg?”

Kaidan snorts softly and sits back. “Now there’s an idea.”

Lachlan rolls his eyes, cautiously using his prosthetic hand to scratch the side of his nose. It’s … strange to get used to and an even bigger challenge to get used to when playing his cello; but given the widespread destruction as a result of the war, even he, the Savior of the Galaxy, has to wait his turn for a cloned limb to be grown as a replacement. This, at least, is something to help him get by. Thankfully, the fingers have some semblance of individual mobility, but he learned early on not to take things too quickly lest he poke his eye out in the process.

His thoughts get interrupted when Kaidan’s hand wraps around his left ankle and tugs. Hard. “What the …?” He rolls onto his hip, sitting up fully this time as he bats the prosthetic arm at the man. “What is with you, tonight?”

“I told you; I have a confession to make.” Kaidan sits beside him again as he uses a towel to clean off his hands. His tone becomes more somber as he adds, “Kind of an important one, too.”

A flutter in Lachlan’s chest reminds him of a swarm of butterflies and his breath hitches. Gulping, he stares at Kaidan. “You … this isn’t going to be like that time on Arcturus, is it?” he asks, the hint of worry and hesitation clear in his tone.

Kaidan frowns. “Which time?”

“When you made me think you wanted nothing more to do with me and then you turned around and proposed instead.”

Kaidan sighs heavily and leans forward until their foreheads touch lightly. “No, this isn’t anything like that.” Before pulling back, he ghosts a quick, reassuring kiss across Lachlan’s lips. “I promise. Now lie down so I can finish, hmm?”

The kiss doesn’t last long enough as far as Lachlan is concerned, but he lies back on the floor without protest. As Kaidan’s hands move to his lower back, gently massaging up his spine, he asks, “Well, what is it?”

“What is what?”

Lachlan groans. “You really enjoy this, don’t you?”

Kaidan laughs at the accusation, taking the opportunity to work a particularly tight section of Lachlan’s shoulder area with a bit more enthusiasm than is strictly necessary. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“What?” He starts to sit up again, but gets pushed right back down before he can even prop his elbows beneath him and gain leverage.

“I’m never going to finish this if you don’t hold still.”

Lachlan mutters some more beneath his breath, settles back down, and finishes with, “Don’t think for one moment I don’t know that you’re doing this on purpose!”

“Doing what?”

“That!”

Kaidan’s lips twitch. “What exactly do you mean by ‘that?’”

Instead of sitting up this time, Lachlan rolls onto his right shoulder and uses his good left arm to grab the collar of his husband’s shirt and tug him down close. “Acting all cagey like.” Since he has him close and Kaidan isn’t fighting to break away, Lachlan kisses him thoroughly before he releases him. There are times when Kaidan likes to tease him; Lachlan knows this well, and in all honestly enjoys it as much as the other man does. But tonight, it’s bordering on the nonsensical, and it’s driving him insane.

“Okay,” he murmurs, rolling over so he can slide both arms around Kaidan’s shoulders, “so, this confession?”

“Mmmm.” The laughter is still there, but gets lost between them for several minutes. “Confession?” he mumbles as he breaks the kiss. “What confession?”

Sighing, Lachlan’s head falls back to the rug with a soft thump. “You, sir, are a menace.”

Kaidan swoops back in for another kiss; Lachlan ducks to the side to avoid it, but Kaidan ends up connecting with his cheek instead before shifting to lie on the floor beside him. He loops an arm around Lachlan’s waist, laughing softly as he snuggles against his back, bringing his chin up on his shoulder. “So, do you remember how last year for our anniversary, I told you the gift I had for you would have to wait?”

Lachlan freezes a moment in panic, calming once he realizes they aren’t anywhere near their anniversary on the calendar. As it then bleeds out, leaving him just a bit weak in the knees, he replies, “You said you left it at the apartment?” Which, realistically means it was destroyed when Arcturus Station was destroyed at the beginning of the war.

“Mmm,” Kaidan agrees. “Well, I think I’ve found a replacement gift for you.”

Lachlan’s chest tightens; every time he turns around, especially of late, he finds yet another reason to love this man even more than he does after all these years. Last year was their tenth anniversary, unless you didn’t count the two years he was dead, and Kaidan had been disappointed how things had played out. Lachlan, of course, reassured him at the time, just as he does now. “I have you, I don’t need anything else.”

“Not true, and you know it,” Kaidan insists. He pushes to his feet, grabs the towel and takes a moment to wipe off remnants of the lotion he’d used on Lachlan’s shoulders before handing his partner his shirt.

Lachlan manages to tug the t-shirt on with minimal effort now – it’s taken time to learn how to do that, but with Kaidan’s help and practice over the past ten months, it comes easier each time. He accepts the hand Kaidan offers to help him to his feet. “Kaid, what’s going on?”

“You’ll see in a minute – .” A soft beep at Kaidan’s wrist cuts him off. “Or, right now, I guess.” The twinkle returns to his eyes as he grins and squeezes Lachlan’s hand. “Trust me?”

Lachlan squeezes back, even though he is thoroughly confused. “Haven’t I always?”

“Stay here.” Kaidan heads over to the door to their rented house and opens it. The chill of the winter air gusts inside almost immediately, and Lachlan cannot stop a soft giggle when the blast is accompanied by a burst of snowflakes that settle over Kaidan’s dark hair. “Going a bit grey there, don’t you think, Alenko?”

Kaidan chuckles. “No thanks to you!”

It takes a few minutes for the chill to start actively fighting against the warmth in the room, but even Lachlan notices the temperature dropping after a bit. While Kaidan continues to wait, his attention focused beyond the door, Lachlan nabs his N7 hoodie and tugs it on, complaining, “Just remember, you’re the only Canadian of the group, all right?”

“What’s the matter, Shepard? Can’t stand the cold?”

“Not without my armor, no.”

The door creaks a little as Kaidan pushes it open further just as Lachlan turns back toward him. Lachlan opens his mouth to add onto that comment but finds he has no voice nor breath as a familiar towheaded face steps inside the house. Unable to move, eyes widening with each second that passes, Lachlan’s heart lurches inside his chest. “Iain?” he croaks.

The younger Shepard is thinner than he recalls, perhaps a bit frailer than the last time they saw one another well over a year before, but Iain still manages to lunge toward his brother. Lachlan grasps him tightly, holding him in a fierce hug. Only when he releases him some moments later, wiping a few tears from his eyes, does he notice the other new arrival. “Coats? You … you found him?”

The dark haired man nods. “Took a while,” he admits with a rueful smile, “searched damn near every hospital in England for him, but … yeah.” Coats’ gaze drifts back and forth between the two brothers. “You Shepards are a stubborn lot, I’ll give you that much.”

Iain grins back at the man. “Just gives you a long term goal, Paddington.” He turns back to his brother, eyeing him a bit more closely now. Cautiously, he reaches out and touches the prosthetic hand. “Can you … can you play, Lach?”

Using his good arm, Lachlan pulls Iain back in for another hug. “Aye. It’s a bit complicated at the moment, but it works for now, don’t you worry.” This time when he releases the younger man, Kaidan and Coats have joined them. “So,” he says to his husband, “this is your confession, is it?”

Kaidan grins. “The confession was that I found a replacement present,” he corrects. “Think it’s worth it?”

Lachlan smiles. “Most definitely worth it.”

#December Writing Challenge #ladya writes #Lachlan Shepard #mshenko #Kaidan Alenko #OTP: The Music Lives On #Iain Shepard #Major Coats #mass effect fanfiction #when the muses attack #thank you so much!#mallaidhsomo

6 notes · View notes

meli-productions · 4 years ago

Text

A Dragon’s Hoard

Another day, another prompt for the #ineffablehusbandsauweek by @ineffablehusbandsweek.

Read and comment on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26651497

When her sister, Michael, became queen, Aziraphale knew it was just a matter of time before something went wrong.

It wasn’t that her sister wasn’t smart or capable of taking care of the kingdom - no, Michael led like a lioness - it was the strong opposition to her that made her rule difficult. Their mother had been well loved - but it was Michael’s strictness and her refusal to marry someone that didn’t love her had made her be seen as a difficult woman not fit to rule.

So it came as no surprise when the first cry of a dragon overhead was quickly blamed on the anger of a sorcerer towards Queen Michael.

“What can we do?” Michael asked her closest staff, her most trusted advisors. “We must send someone to slay the dragon.”

“The dragon will not be slayed,” her seer, Uriel said with a shake of her braided head. “It needs to be appeased - a tribute must be given.”

“Who? I will not put our people at risk,” said Michael, then squared her shoulders and declared. “I shall do it.”

“Send Aziraphale,” came the wheezy voice of Sandalphon. “No harm done there - she is a princess of low standing - one that not even her fiance wants. Give her to the dragon.”

Michael was hesitant, not liking the words of her advisors, but when she pitched the idea to Aziraphale, the younger woman gracefully accepted.

“You are needed here - mother wanted you to take over and care for the kingdom,” she said, a soft smile on her softer face. “Besides, what is there for me here? A husband that is more interested in status than my heart? Children given that will be ignored by their father? Let me make this sacrifice for our people.”

This is how Aziraphale and her horse Angel found themselves riding towards the craignish mouth of the cave that the dragon had been seen entering.

Aziraphale arrived at the village at the foot of the mountain in rags and with Angel being led along. The people all looked at the woman who looked so out of place with the softness and angelic light of her hazel eyes. Lecherous looks were thrown her way, but she made her way straight to the inn and to the woman in charge.

“Madame Tracy, correct?” she asked, looking at the woman with her red-orange puffy curls pinned back.

The woman beamed, “Yes, love, that is I. How can I help? Need a room?”

She shook her head, “My groundsman told me to look for you, I have a horse that I won’t be needing anytime soon - said to give her to you.”

Tracy frowned, “And why’s that, love? Giving all your earthly possessions - you’re not becoming a nun, are you? Not such a lovely thing like you.”

A little smile lit up Aziraphale’s face, “No, I’m - I’m being given as tribute to the dragon. I don’t want to put Angel in danger. Please, will you take her?”

“Oh, Princess Aziraphale - ” Tracy begun, curtsying low until her skirts were pooling around her feet.

Aziraphale tutted and got down at her side, “No, please, don’t. I won’t be a princess for much longer - there’s no need for all this fuss. Plus, I’d like to keep quiet about what I’m doing.”

Tracy pouted, straightening up, “I don’t like that you’re being sacrificed, duckie. But I’ll take your horse - at least until you come back.”

“Madame, I won’t be returning - it’s a dragon we’re talking about.”

She laughed, “Oh, dear little duckie - I have a feeling that we’ll see you back soon. An angel such as you will have no problem with a dragon like that. Take this,” she said, reaching around and handing her a little bottle of gold liquid, “It’s an old family recipe. Can undo any injury or curse. Trust me, love. It’ll come in handy either for you or that dragon.”

Doubt clouding her light eyes, Aziraphale took the elixir and tucked it into her bosom, “Thank you, Madame. Take care of my girl.”

A crowd had formed at the door as everyone tried to catch a glimpse of the newcomer and they split in the middle when she came out. The young men of the village were quick to flock to her side, offering to carry her pack, inviting her for a meal or drink, and she frowned at them trying to turn them down as politely as she could. When one got a little too handsy, she pulled out the dagger tied to her waist and pointed it at his jugular.

“I suggest,” she said, nose flaring, “that you take a step back.”

Hands held aloft before him, the man backed away - taking the rest of her followers with him and Aziraphale, now alone, squared her shoulders and made her way up the mountain.

The cave was large and Aziraphale could hear a low rumble from within, the dragon’s quiet snoring. Her own breath was coming in shaky inhales as she entered the dark cavern on wobbly knees - looking for the creature. Part of her felt bad for waking it up - speeding up her own death - but she’d rather just get it over with. She came across the smoke curling out of large nostrils and swallowed her nerves down.

“Dragon, awake,” she said, voice stronger than she expected it to be. “I am Princess Aziraphale of Eastgate and I am here as tribute for my kingdom. Take me as - as meal or prize - and leave my home alone.”

An eye of gold opened and peered at her, blinking once before the dragon unfolded itself. A puff of fire lit the nearby torches and revealed the massive being to Aziraphale. If she weren’t so terrified she’d think the creature was beautiful.

Black scales trailed into red on its underbelly and its slender form that gave it more of a serpentine look than draconic, the gold eyes looked at her from above before lowering down til its snout was right in front of Aziraphale.

“Brave little morsel,” the dragon said, its deep, rumbling voice vibrated through Aziraphale’s bones. “Willing to give herself up for her people. Tell me, what made you think that I will stop if given a snack?”

Aziraphale tensed, “I don’t know. But better me than my sister - and better a snack than sending champion after champion to attempt slaying you.”

He laughed, “You think I’d be impossible to slay.”

“I think it would be difficult and not worth the effort and death.”

A little hum escaped the dragon and his tail came up to curl around her feet, “Smart words, little princess. But a waste of time. I shan’t eat you - but I will take you as a prize.”

Aziraphale relaxed, if only a little, “Thank you. And - and you’ll leave my kingdom alone?”

Another hum, “I was just sent here, really. Don’t know what my life was before I was sent here. ‘Go East and cause some trouble, ‘s all the instructions I had. I had no intention of harming a kingdom - really just to sleep here - until you came along.”

“Then,” said Aziraphale, frowning. “What’s the point of keeping me here?”

If the dragon could shrug, he would’ve, but instead his tail tightened around Aziraphale’s ankles, “Gets boring around here - now I have someone to talk to…and you came to me, dove.”

She rolled her eyes, “Alright. But what do I call you now that we’re - roommates?”

The dragon chuckled, “My name is Crowley, your highness. And I look forward to getting to know you.”

That first night, Aziraphale and Crowley kept a wary distance. Aziraphale unfolded her pack’s worth of food and her bedroll. She offered the dragon a piece of her meal - if only due to the manners she’d been taught - but he gave a little shake of his massive head, thanking her, but refusing.

Crowley watched her as she ate, daintily and making obscene little noises that forced his eyes closed lest they show the dilation of his pupils. He didn’t remember much before his orders to come to this kingdom - but he knew that there was something wrong about ogling a woman in such a way.

Aziraphale for her part studied each scale of the dragon and wondered if they were as soft to touch as they looked. But more than that, she wondered what Crowley had meant when he said he didn’t remember much before getting orders. Questions swarmed her mind - but she kept them to the journal she brought with her.

As she curled into the warmth of her bedroll, she took a final look at the slumbering beast and smiled.

One prison to another - but at least no bothersome fiance to worry about.

The next morning, Aziraphale awoke alone.

Panic spread to every cell of her body and broke her out into a cold sweat as she scrambled to her feet. She felt stupid for trusting a dragon - a monster - and risking the lives of her people. Dagger in hand, she ventured out of the cave and, when she didn’t find any trace of the beast, nor the sight of destruction in the village below, stormed deeper within the cave.

She found Crowley curled around a fire, scorch marks around the pile of firewood, and a stack of cooked meat in a pile to his side.

“Good morning, dove,” said Crowley. “I went ahead and caught you some food. Figured beings like you have to eat every day. Also, there are some things hidden in here that you can turn into - a home for the time being.”

Taking a look around, Aziraphale noticed the old furniture that were scattered around - from a lounging chaise and mirrored vanity to the frame of an old canopy bed and dresser - it seemed that there was an old hoard lying around.

“You - you didn’t attack the town.”

Crowley did the equivalent of a scoff, “Said I wouldn’t. Won’t go against my word. Besides, I’m curious and you’re curious and the only way we’ll get answers is through one another. So we’ll make the most of our time together. Deal?”

Aziraphale lowered her dagger, studying the expression on the dragon, “Deal.”

One morning turned into a few more and the two found themselves easing into a comfortable routine and friendship. Amidst their conversations, Aziraphale found out that Crowley didn’t remember anything about what his life was like before the old witch sent him to Eastgate - couldn’t even remember if he’d always been a dragon or a snake or anything else, that he didn’t want to destroy towns because he was curious of human life. And Crowley found out about Aziraphale’s pompous former betrothed that would dismiss her in conversation - about her mother who loved her and had wanted her to be free to explore before tying her down to this man who despised her.

And as the two learned more about each other, they found themselves growing fonder - curling up on colder nights, Crowley nuzzling against Aziraphale to rouse her in the morning, and cohabiting comfortably for the weeks that came to be.

It was on one of the days that were chillier than most that found Aziraphale curled against Crowley’s warm stomach while he prodded her with his snout.

“Are you going to sleep all day?” he asked her with a laugh. “C’mon, dove. Up and at ‘em.”

She gave a little whine and patted his snout, “Just a couple more minutes, dear. You’re just so comfortable.”

“You’ve grown soft. You’re in the perfect position for me to eat you up,” said Crowley, tongue flicking out to scent her, tickling her thighs where her nightgown had ridden up.

Aziraphale turned, nuzzling against the soft underbelly and making the muscle twitch, “Mmm, you won’t eat me - you love me too much. ‘N I’m not soft - you’re the soft one. You let me live.”

The words settled heavy over them and woke Aziraphale up with a start. She pulled away from him, blushing, “Sorry, my dear - I didn’t mean.”

“You’re not wrong,” he said, head coming to rest at her side. “I did spare you and I do - I do care about you deeply. You’re the only friend I have - maybe ever had but - I can’t keep you here forever.”

She frowned, sleepy eyes coming into focus, “Crowley, I made a promise. My life for the life of my people. I can’t return now.”

“Then don’t return. Go explore the world like your mother would’ve wanted for you,” Crowley said, voice getting rougher. “I’ll keep my promise - won’t lay a claw on your kingdom and you - go live your dream.”

“That dream was of a child,” she said, curls flying with her intensity. “That hasn’t been my dream since my betrothal. I wanted to collect books,” an incredulous laugh escaped her, “a hoard of books. A little library to share with others - teach little village kids to read, but not if I can’t have a friend like you.”

Crowley was quiet, the trail of smoke curling around her until he got up, looking away from her, “Tomorrow, I want you to pack your things and go back to the village. There’s gold in the old hoard - use it to build your library.”

“But - ”

“When I return, I don’t want you here,” he said, unfurling his wings. He turned to her, gold eyes covered in a cloudy film, “Make your dream come true, dove.”

Without heeding her cries of his name, Crowley took off and left Aziraphale alone in the cavernous, echoing darkness. Tears welled in her eyes as she turned to her pack long forgotten in the corner underneath the bed frame.

She didn’t want to pack. She didn’t want to leave Crowley alone in this cold cave when all he wanted was answers. She loved him and she couldn’t just leave him.

“Well that settles it,” she said to the darkness around him. “I am not moving and he’s just going to have to deal with it.”

Crowley returned to a fire-lit cavern, Aziraphale sitting cross-legged in front of the fire with her journal in her lap. Part of him felt exasperated at the sight of her, the stubborn set of her chin and sharpness in her hazel eyes. The other part was relieved that she hadn’t left.

“I thought I told you to leave,” he said, voice rough from lack of use.

Aziraphale scoffed, “I’m not gonna leave because you throw a fit. You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

With a huff, Crowley curled around her, snout pushing until her arm rested over it, “You just have to make my life difficult, don’t you?”

“What’s the point of traveling the world by myself when the two of us could go together?” said Aziraphale, stroking the smooth scales between his eyes.

“Oh? Now I’m your noble steed?”

“Nothing noble about you, you wily thing,” she laughed, pressing a kiss along the path her hands were taking. “We’ll talk about it in the morning, alright? For now, I’d like to get warm - and I’m sure you would too.”

Crowley hummed his affirmation, tucking her in tight against him and settled in for the night.

The next morning, Aziraphale found herself in the tight coils of Crowley’s tail as he poised to strike - not towards her, but at something at the mouth of the cave.

“Leave my cave now and I won’t be picking you out of my teeth,” he said, a rumbling deep from his stomach that Aziraphale felt down to her bones.

As she tried to get a better look at the intruder, a familiar voice halted her movements.

“Foul beast. You have killed my beloved and for that you must die,” the boisterous voice echoed through the cave, followed by the sound of metal against rock. “It’s time to rid you that way her sacrifice was not in vain.”

Crowley let out a low hiss that rolled into laughter. He turned enough so he could see Aziraphale behind him and the exasperated roll of her eyes.

“Dove, you know this meathead?”

He released her at the tap of her hand on his scales, “Unfortunately. This is the betrothed I spoke to you about - Sir Gabriel.”

At the sound of her voice, Gabriel’s expression shifted into confusion, then anger, “Aziraphale? You’re still alive? The beast hasn’t eaten you?”

Aziraphale pulled the dagger out from underneath her blanket and stood at Crowley’s side, “The beast has a name - and no, he’s been nothing but hospitable. But I’m going to ask you to leave now, Gabriel, return to your manor and forget you ever saw us.”

A little incredulous scoff escaped his mouth, “Sunshine, you’re being held hostage. Let me do this for you - let me save you from your imprisonment.”

Another eyeroll and Aziraphale leaned against Crowley, making him puff proudly. At the sight, Gabriel’s nose scrunched up and he took a step back.

“He’s done something- hypnotized you or bewitched you,” he said, readying his sword. “But never fear, sunshine, I’ll save you.”

He lunged forward, sword aloft, and Aziraphale took a step forward to meet the blow. Crowley, quicker than she was, pulled her back into the safety of his tail, snapping at his assailant and taking the brunt of the attack.

“Crowley,” she said, ignoring the man now laying at their feet, impaled by teeth and the metal of his armor. “Dearest, you can’t leave me - you said we’d go explore together.”

A huff of laughter and smoke escaped Crowley’s mouth as he pressed his snout against Aziraphale’s stomach, “Sorry, dove. He was just a little quicker than me. Don’t cry - I’ll be alright and you’ll be alright, too. You’ll see.”

Tears rolled down Aziraphale’s face and fell upon her chest, rolling down the crevice between them and landing on - on a vial. She sobered up for a second and pulled out the little forgotten vial of elixir Madame Tracy had given her.

“Crowley, I’m gonna fix this - I am,” she said, popping open the vial. “Open your mouth for me, love, there you go - this should make it all better.”

The gold liquid dripped down his teeth and he swallowed thick around it. A relieved purr vibrated Aziraphale’s body and then the wound at his neck started glowing gold - then the rest of him started glowing the same gold color.

As the light disappeared, the weight on Aziraphale’s lap lessened and instead of the massive body of the dragon there was a lighter pressure of a human head - of a man’s head in her lap. He shifted, wincing in pain before opening his eyes and glancing at her, eyes wide and gold and hauntingly familiar.

“Crowley?”

“Dove? You look different, definitely bigger, what was in that drink you gave me?”

Aziraphale thought of the Madame’s words, “An elixir that can - that can heal any wound and undo any curse - my love, you were cursed, that’s why you couldn’t remember anything.”

A spark of realization blinked into his eyes and he sprung up, cupping Aziraphale’s face in his long-fingered grasp, “Cursed - dove, you’re right - I - that witch had something against my father and cursed me. I remember now. I - I’m human - wait, I’m human again and you’re here and - ”

She couldn’t fight the huge smile that spread across her face and lit up her light eyes, “Oh, Crowley. I’m so happy for you. I guess now it’s not that weird to say that I love you.”

He smiled, wide and as dangerous as his dragon’s smile had been, and leaned in to pepper kisses across her cheeks.

“You love me? Dove, I adore you,” he said, pressing kisses to her nose and brushing her lips. “Let me show you the world - let me get that library for you. The castle need not see you again - the dragon is slayed by love, just - just allow me the pleasure of being at your side.”

Aziraphale pressed a kiss of her own to the thumb sweeping across her lip, “Of course, my dear. Anything.”

Aziraphale and Crowley returned to the village and it was Madame Tracy, one hand on her hip and the other on Angel’s reins that greeted them.

“Took you long enough,” she said, handing the reins over to Aziraphale. “Come now you two lovebirds. Let's get you settled in the inn until you can settle. You will be staying in town with us, right duckies?”

And how could they argue with such a wise madame?

10 notes · View notes

suffering-and-happy-about-it · 5 years ago

Text

Mount Everest Ain't Got Shit On Us, Part 20. (Fezco x fem!reader) - The Aftermath, Part 3. (Ending)

Description: You were always told that your life will be as you wish it to be if you’ll study enough. That it will pay off if you work hard. And some people were given you like a scary example of what will happen when you don’t obey. But sometimes it feels good to disobey.

A/N: Inspired by Cinderella by the man of the greatest, Mac Miller for two reasons (and Talk by Khalid slightly in the end).

He truly is a great rapper in my opinion (and not because his life ended up so soon, sadly). I like the beats of his songs, the energy, they have thoughts in them (like Cinderella or Self Care).

Cinderella is a break-up song, but also, Mac says that he’s waiting for that girl no matter what.

Also, it should end up way different, but I was too sad, so I made it a bit sweeter. Still sad tho.

Warnings: Angst, ending of the series. You're gonna hate me, folks. Also a lot of Khalid mentions. And ma being right once again.

Word count: 4.1 K

Read the rest here, babe: PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7 PART 8 PART 9 PART 10 PART 11 PART 12 PART 13 PART 14 PART 15 PART 16 PART 17 PART 18 PART 19

Masterlist and declaration: H E R E

Tagging: @charmed-asylum, @jeyramarie, @pantherxrogers, @analia-analia-analia

There's no such freedom as letting the bike ride down from the hill on its own, nothing is better than riding down with your ass up just as your hair flies around you and you close your eyes, smiling to the sun as songs rush through your earbuds.

For the first time in forever, you could feel happy and calm, a smile appearing on your lips basically on its own. The last few months were a fucking ride, you couldn't put it in other words. Your heart broke many times as you broke down in tears, sliding down leaning into the wall. There was a lot of screaming at your home, a lot of curse words falling down; from you and Fran, not from your parents.

She needs to go on rehab, your ma said when she saw you for the first time in hospital. There was no such terrible news for Christian parents than knowing that their child is a drug addict. Or a lesbian. They could somehow handle Fran like that problem kid, at least for the first time she got into a rehab, but when you ended up on a hospital bed for the first time as well, they were so disappointed.

Also at that moment, Fran was on the same hospital floor with recovering from cuttings under her neck, her ankles, and her palms. She was out. Sleeping. Fighting for her life. In the end, you couldn't blame your parents for their reactions. One of their kids ended up in the hospital, drugged and almost dead, and when the kid had finally woken up, the other one tried to kill themselves. It was just too much to take in.

Of course, you were forbidden to see Fezco when they learned what actually happened, or what occurred according to the witnesses. If they knew that the man with a red beard just appeared in the same room as you did, they would kill you both. Regardless of what happened, they made Fezco the bad guy, even if the police found him completely innocent. For further restricting the contact between you two, they even took your phone away.

Your man almost couldn't handle that shit - and he didn't even hear the worst part at that time. He sat by your side almost every evening since you were in a coma, holding your hand, sometimes even sleeping by your side - and when his little angel had finally woken up, he was restricted to see her.

Thank God, the teen-agers who were saving his ass have done a really good job - part of that was that Nate had got a good record with manipulating crimes and he was from a well-respected family. And the other part was done thanks to Jules, who took all his drug-dealing junk into her room until the situation got quiet. They were working to save him a good time and they knew that they would be able to manipulate a murder - which didn't mean that they would like to kill for business from that moment on (even if Rue persuaded that idea many times).

But in the end, Fezco wasn't arrested or rotting in jail, which made you happy. But even if he was legally cleansed, that didn't make a difference for your parents at all. He was a criminal - and he could damage your life and well-being.

Of course that as soon as they released you our of the hospital, and they also told that there's no need for rehab since you're not a junkie, you ran off in the night. It was a cold January night, it was snowing and the roads and pavements were covered in a thin layer of ice.

As soon as your lips touched his, your body started to undress before you even realized any of it. There was no need for words. You only needed him and his dick. You slowly realized that you're naked when his warm skin pressed on yours and started to heat it. The truth was that you only barely realized what you were doing as you felt all those things after a few months. You wished for his taste never leaving your lips, for his skin to warm you until the day was over and to smell him when you close your eyes.

Fezco wanted to make you feel love and to make you feel like a princess, yet it didn't end up like that at all. It was passionate, it was almost violent at whiles. You started on the bed and when he was finally naked, you somehow ended up on all fours, ass up for him, yelling to the floor as you felt the skin on your knees burning.

He always told you that you look like a beautiful, tender angel. That night was somehow different - you wanted and needed to be broken by him. Fez basically destroyed you that night - just as you mesmerized him by slow, tender lovemaking - you rode him like he loved to and to feel you after such a long time was like a dream coming true. Unreal.

When it was all done, you laid down in his bed, holding him just as if he belonged to you - your hand around his hips, your leg entwined between his thighs with your forehead on his chest. You felt safe. But you know that it wasn't for too long.

"I heard rumors." - Fez started slowly, drawing circles on your naked shoulder, kissing the top of your head.

"Oh yeah?" - You wondered with a low chuckle, kissing the small sweet spot between his flat breasts. - "What did you hear? Do you want to share with the class?" - You mumbled as you continued up to below the line of his beard, your hand slowly traveling down, thinking of round three.

"About you movin' out of da town." - Fezco whispered, watching you with his blue eyes. He was... Hurt. And about to cry. Which mad you inclined to crying as well. It was like an instant connection.

"I am afraid... That those aren't only rumors, Fez." - You sighed. The man under your body just shifted for a second before he closed his eyes as he smoothed his face with his fingers. - "I need to. My parents want me to. And they wouldn't leave me alone."

"When ya leavin'?" - Fezco gently pushed you on his body, leaning his head down to kiss you.

"On Monday." - You mumbled to his lips and felt, how he tensed. And practically pushed his lips off yours. - "I have already packed everything."

"And when you planned on tellin' me? Huh? A short call at a gas station?" - He got up from the bed, taking some underwear on, leaving you naked between the blankets. Everything inside you strangely hurt, it felt like if you let your man down, because he wasn't even able to look in your direction.

At that moment, he didn't think about loving you like anybody else on the whole planet, he just thought about you being gone from his day-to-day life in just two days from that night. That just wasn't fair - how could someone love somebody else so much only to let them go?

“Fezco, you know that it's not like that.” - You sat, covering your own body with a blanket. You felt as tears slowly crept into your eyes. - “You know how complicated my life is right now. You do.”

“Whatever, man.” - He leaned his palms into one of the cabinets in his room, looking into the mirror as you dressed up. You felt the need to leave immediately. Before knocking on his door, you were willing to give him both the nights that were remaining to you in the town. Now, you just wanted to get away from that place.

And so you did. And didn't come back after that, not hearing a single word from Fez again. You took it as a break-up. He hadn't tried to contact you after that one last passionate night. It felt cold. So you acted cold as well, you didn't stealthy left your room or went to his and Ash’s gas station. And it hurt like hell; it hurt so much that you only laid in your bed and cried until you fell asleep, not leaving your room for food or toilette.

And this time, you hadn't got Fran by your side to tell you that you will do just fine - with Fez or without him.

Rue and Jules came to visit you just before it was your time to leave, both of them were crying like hell. Rue held you for a ridiculous amount of time, so tightly that you giggled. Then you sat at your room, a rap song playing from Jules’ phone.

“We’ll miss ya, idiot.” - Rue said and nuzzled her head into your upper thigh so you could massage her scalp.

“If you can behave and you will stay clean, you can come to visit me to Minnesota on spring break.” - You smoothed her cheek with a small smile. - “Granny has a place for all of us there. It will be fun because Minnesota is beautiful.”

“Yeah, I heard somewhere that its wilderness is great. We can go hiking.” - Jules exclaimed happily, holding your other hand.

“Only if missy here on my lap will stay clean. Can you promise that?” - You asked the beauty on your lap and she nodded lazily with her eyes closed and a sad face, she was smelling you, so she remembered your favorite perfume or antiperspirant.

“Anything new about Fez?” - You mumbled with a sigh.

“He’s still refusing to speak with us. He tries to get me clean again and I think that we are remindin’ his ass of ya. You know that it still means that he loves ya?” - Rue played with your fingers childishly. Of course, he was in love with you - because you still couldn't get him out of your head or heart as well.

The question was if you will be ever able to forgive him. Everything was screaming his name to you - like the small things on your bedside table, an empty frame where your photo used to be, weird hoodies that reminded you of his style, that tone of his voice whispering you dirty little jokes whispered to your ear, him making you laugh whenever he felt you're stressed that you could hear in any song you’ve listened to, his smile and blue eyes in the color of the sky. No. No, you knew you could hardly move on from that intense relationship. And even if you eventually do, there will be a part of you still in love with that man.

No other boy will ever take your panties off, damped as hell, the way Fezco did. Nobody brews coffee the way he did and nobody else will watch you perform concerts only in your lacy bra and bathrobe.

“He will be fine. He always is. Let him take his time.” - You nodded, crying again, but smiling at Rue sadly.

“And about ya?” - Rue asked seriously and you just looked away. After that, Jules changed the topic fast, because she knew that you're about to scream in frustration.

One thing was crossing your mind again and again - why people who are the closest to be actual angels are the most corrupted ones? You took a good look at Rue, the girl with heart of gold - a drug addict, irresponsible woman with OCD, ADD and so many shits to add to the stock. Jules, such an incredible sweet - also a kind of slut for older men. Fezco, literally the best boy you have ever met and basically the love of your life - a dropout highschooler and a dealer who killed a person.

The people around you were the literal angels - and the most fucked up of all people youve ever met and you knew that you will never meet anyone like them in your life.

So naturally, when it came to saying goodbye, there were so many tears that it couldn't be counted. Rue was telling you dumb jokes and promised to send you letters every once a while, Cal couldn't even speak in his terms because he was sobbing so much and Jules... She was just sadly smiling at you and even if she wasn't crying at all, you could feel that she is sad.

But you only laughed when your ma started the engine and Jules and Rue followed you on their bikes until the Hope you'll come to visit you again and you only could laugh because they were yelling stuff at you the whole way while you were leaning from the window and looking at them.

When you left the town, you closed the window, seeing those two still watching your car disappear. You sighed and started to play with the few rings you had on both hands.

“How you're doing?” - Your ma asked silently. You disappointed her really bad, but you were still her daughter and you knew that sooner or later, she will start trusting you again. But you also knew that you needed to take small steps at a time. Same with dad. You fucked up, that was for sure - but there was still a comparison to Fran, so your fucking-up bar wasn't as high, you thought to yourself.

“I'm doing just fine.” - You said quietly, not looking at her. - “Thanks for your concern.”

“Y/N, stop acting like Fran. This is...-” - Your ma gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter. - “For the sake of my own health and well being, I know, I know. How I said, thanks for your concern.”

“Look, I know that this whole attitude thing is about Fez. And I get it, totally.” - She started quietly. That was when you turned off the radio and turned your face to her a bit.

“He isn't a bad person and you know that.” - You mumbled with the breaking of your heart being pressed into every letter of that sentence.

“And if I remember correctly, I and neither your father ever told that. Never. Not even once.” - She sighed and after a long time, she started speaking again. - “He is a wonderful man when we are speaking about his character only. All I needed to know is that he makes my daughter happy and that he is honest and serious with her. And I swear to God that I've never seen anyone looking at someone else like when he watched every move you ever made. I liked having him over for dinner or movie marathons. He was kind to me and nice under any circumstances. Fezco is a good, loyal and loving person.” - She told you. You were sitting there like a hot pile of shit, looking in front of you without any word coming to your tongue.

“And I know you left your room on Friday and I am not dumb. But you two needed to talk to each other for the last time. I needed you to do it, because it doesn't matter if he is a nice guy or not when he shot a guy with a gun, regardless it was self-defense or not. A mother doesn't want to see her child with a man like that.” - She stopped the car on the right side of the road and she watched as your cheeks have filled with tears. But she didn't stop the engine.

“And I know that if you want, you can just be with him again when you are an adult. But I think that now it just isn't your time to be together - things happened to him, thing happened to you and... I know it hurts, baby. I know. But give it some time. Let both your lives settle down, grow up a bit, grow as a person and someday, maybe, if you want, you can save the man you're so blatantly in love with now.” - Your ma took your hand to her palm and kissed it slowly, letting you cry.

She was right, just as always. You’ve done wrong - but just as you did, he did too. And she did even know that if you would want to continue the relationship in the future, you could and she couldn't stop. But this was her way of making you stop for a while, so you could get out of Fezcos drug world she didn't even know about.

“We have broken up... The night I have sneaked out of my window.” - You confessed quietly and she just closed her eyes and exhaled out loud. Your ma was the wisest woman you have ever met. She did antagonize Fezco - but on the other hand, she was able to tell that he has a kind heart and that the relationship you had was an unusually strong one for the first one in your romantical life, at least openly.

She even liked that boy. He helped with the dishes, laughed at her dumb jokes and brought her some nice pieces of dishes and flowers when he had an opportunity. Naturally, she was a little sad that you called your romance off. Or, more likely, he called it off.

“You will be fine, baby. You will do just great.” - She promised and kissed your forehead. She was mad at you most of the time - but the mother does nurse their children when something happens. Plus, you already showed the will to turn the things around.

Even if it was without an internet connection and extremely far away from your own home, you loved your granny’s big house in Minnesota. It was a big and old one and you loved spending time there since you were small. It was kind of a bummer to start school all over again without anybody, but you managed.

Your mom got you a new phone number and made sure to give it to Leslie and to Jules’ dad, so they could call you from time to time when you weren’t doing anything at the moment. The town was pretty small and you knew most of the people - but nobody knew the true reason why you moved there. They were glad for you nonetheless.

You found new friends sooner or later and one day, while you’ve been sitting at a coffee, waiting for your studying partner, you’ve hidden all the photos and stories you had with Fezco on Instagram. It felt strange, yet the memories in photos of you and Rue, Leslie, Gia, Jules, and other girls made you genuinely laugh.

In this town, you had a good reputation - you were a pretty good student, the nice person helping on local events for children. To say at least, you’ve been good.

And just as Rue promised, she wrote you letter every two weeks. She bragged herself about being clean so she could visit you with Jules - she also wrote the number big and colorful, so you couldn't miss it at all.

Over time, small notes were delivered in the letter for you - for example, a polaroid of your and Fezco’s favorite restaurant and when you turned it, there was Do ya remember? written in big letters.

For the first few times, you thought of Rue doing weird Rue shit - but over the time, the photos got more and more intimate - the place where you sat and made love under the stars, the pool where it all has started, a small spot on the counter in his shop which you marked as yours with a heart drawn with a glitter pen. Later, you started a small collection and you were smiling every time youve opened up the book to save another polaroid there. It was like he was speaking to you with small sentences like I remember everything or This place ain't da same without ya singin’ Talk (*by Kalid, author’s notes) and the sweetest was when you received a photo of his bed with This space empty without ya, just like ma heart.

And that’s what got you to that one April afternoon where you drove the hill on your bike, listening to some good old Khalid, as you did with Rue. Thanks to her, you knew a few of his songs by your heart. Rue loved him.

Just as you entered the house, you kissed your grandma on her cheeks and went to your room to clean up your things. The phone was laying on your bed and still playing songs when it started to vibrate and play the ring bell tone.

You were surprised - it was neither Rue or Jules, Fran was calling from rehab every Wednesday, ma called on Friday. When you read the number, your brain recognized it as if someone snapped next to your ear. You got anxious and you almost threw up - you never tried calling him, you weren't seeking photos of him or exactly threw up yourself in self-pity and melancholy, only the first week you’ve been in Minnesota was like that.

Did you want to hear Fezco actually? Wouldn’t it just hurt you more? You knew how cold he was when you told him that you’re leaving... Three months ago. But since then, he was slowly making you fond of those memories you had with him. He was apologizing in his very own way.

But the true question was if you were ready to hear him again. You were nervous, sweaty, shaking like hell. The first call fell into a black screen and you exhaled slowly. No, you weren’t. You definitely weren’t.

Just as you threw the phone back on your bed so you could continue with the stuff you had to have done, it started to ring again. You closed your eyes, leaning into the wall. So Fezco was serious with the call? It made you only more anxious and angry. He was acting like such a douche the last time you’ve seen him and even if he took you cute polaroids, he didn't even apologize.

That evening was mostly Fran’s fault, yes, but he technically shot Mouse down. And he did so for a good reason - Mouse was scared that you will disclose their location to the police. You could be the corpse. But exactly was also a reason why you had to leave. And he didn't exactly have the decency to neither explain himself or say sorry.

You were basically sure that you are done with him - backing up all those photos you had so you still had them, but not in your gallery, archiving every post on socials you had with him. You guessed that you weren't simply a thing anymore.

And you even tried to date a guy in Minnesota. But just the way he held your hand didn't feel right. Fezco always held it like if you were a princess, gently playing with all the ring it had, kissing your knuckles or fingertips while he was bored or listening to what you were saying. And the way Minnesota boy was kissing? N O W A Y. It wasn't right at all. His clothes weren't as cozy as Fezco’s, he didn't smell as good as your former boyfriend did. He didn't touch you so you would feel like a goddess - that was a no-no situation for you.

And you realized that Fez might have set the standard bar for other boys who tried to win you for themselves too high. He truly was spoiling you with every look and every touch.

But that didn't mean you would just run to him when he calls you like a dog. He was doing some fucked-up things and you acknowledged that especially since you weren't mesmerized by him every day.

So you told yourself that if he calls you for the third time in a row, you will pick the phone up no matter what. No matter how angry or nervous you would be. The second ringtone ended and you watched the screen with anticipation. The phone was silent for a minute, then for two, three... You sighed and shook your head.

“Y/N! Dear! Can you come and help me out here with something?” - Your granny screamed at you from the first floor. You slowly went to the door, still glued to the screen of your phone as you held the door in your hand. You almost closed it, but it rang again - and to your surprise, a big smile grew on your lips as you went to pick it up.

“Gimme five minutes, grandma!” - You yelled back at her and sat down on your bed.

And you picked up.

FIN

#mount everest ain't got shit on us #hbo euphoria #rehab #rue bennett #fezco euphoria #fezco x reader #fezco x fem!reader #here we go again #the last part #I will miss it tbh #jules vaughn #drug addition

168 notes · View notes