#something about the snake pants in part 6 makes me run around and chase my tail like a dog everytime i think about it
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#his part 3 look isn’t even my fav but I always find myself drawing him in it#4taro and 6taros look are tied as my fav tbh#something about the snake pants in part 6 makes me run around and chase my tail like a dog everytime i think about it#anyway this one’s another oldie just wanted to draw him standin around#queue#also been thinking about changing my username but I don’t even know to what#I’m lame#anyway here’s the tags#my art#versacebong art#digital art#artist on tumblr#character art#doodles#jojos bizarre adventure#jjba#jotaro kujo#jotaro kujo my beloved#stardust crusaders#jojo part 3#jjba jotaro#love you bye#tw smoking#smoking
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Leftovers - Part 6 - Nandor the Relentless x Reader Fanfic
Previous parts: Masterlist
Summary: In which the reader and Nandor engage in some smut. There are lingering effects after the attack by the unknown vampire. A fight breaks out! And Fucking Colin Robinson can’t help himself when it comes to Scrabble.
A/N: Yeah, hi. It’s me. I spent all day struggling with this unwieldy beast and trying to shape it into something the least bit consistent. I really hope this holds up with the rest of the fic. I am also thinking that a vampire orgy is on the horizon, lol.
Warnings: Smut, Female Reader-insert, Reader is described as short and a roller derby player, lingering trauma from vampire attack, memory loss due to hypnosis
---
The horrible, empty echo of erased memories is still with you when you wake, like a forgotten dream that nags at the back of your mind. Nandor sleeps like the literal dead beside you and the inside of the coffin is utterly dark. His presence wraps around you. His solid body is a comfort and his scent fills the enclosed space--earthy and spicy with an edge of coppery-blood-soaked menace. It should raise the hairs on the back of your neck. Your primitive instincts should be screaming at you to run. Instead you draw closer to him, resting your head beside his, close enough for your breath to warm his lips.
The moment is quiet and still, despite the frantic beat of your heart as you recall the softness of his lips on yours and the proud, possessive audacity of his hands on your body. You think Nandor’s kisses must be at least as addictive to you as your blood is to him. Ever since that frenzied, blood-drunk makeout session you’ve had the memory of it running on repeat in the undercurrent of your thoughts. But, Nandor? Does he...want that outside the context of blood letting?
There’s only one way to find out, chicky, Nadja would say.
You lean forward, pressing your mouth to his cool lips, marveling at the contrast with your sleep-warmed skin. For a long moment he remains unmoving... dead to the world. You dart out your tongue and stroke it along his full lower lip, thrilling when you brush the wicked point of a fang. Your hands cup over his bearded cheeks, and you drag your fingers along his jaw as he gradually stirs beneath your touch. He wakes with a deep groan that rumbles up his throat and into your kiss. His lips move with yours now, parting to admit your seeking tongue. He catches your bottom lip in his teeth and nibbles gently, eliciting a pleased squeak from you.
“Nandor...” you pant. He’s fully awake now. His hand roams down your side, into the dip of your waist and over the round curve of your hips.
“Mortal,” he answers you, dragging his fangs along your lips with a shudder that wracks his frame. He brings his other hand up between you and brushes the tips of his fingers over your lips, “I can feel your blood. Here, and…”
He reaches down and just barely presses his flattened palm over the aching heat between your legs.
“...here,” he finishes.
Your breath falls from your lips in a shaky gasp. His touch is frustratingly light but thrilling all the same. You roll your hips forward, seeking the friction your body craves and Nandor obliges you, snaking his hand between your thighs to cup your sex and rub you through the fabric of your shorts.
“I want you, Nandor,” you hiss in pleasure, peppering kisses to his lips, his cheeks, his nose. It’s a declaration and one you’re not sure he’ll accept.
His mouth curves in pleasure at your admission. He wants to plunge himself inside of you and tear into your neck, erasing the foul touch of that unknown vampire. You’re his human. A growl rips from his throat at the thought.
He lowers his lips to brush against the shell of your ear as he barely whispers, “When I am with you I feel like I did with 35 of my 37 wives…”
He captures your earlobe between his teeth, letting his fang break the skin with a stinging little pinch while at the same time increasing the pressure of his hand against the bundle of pulsing nerves between your legs.
“...I feel as though I could never set another peasant aflame and...still be happy…”
He closes his lips around the tiny wound and sucks, moaning with the heady ambrosia of your virgin blood as you ride his hand.
“You’re in the habit of lighting peasants on fire?” you laugh shakily, your breath coming in heaving gasps.
He laughs haughtily, “I’ve killed a thousand peasants and drunk a thousand virgins, my human.”
Okay, pillow talk could use some...work. It doesn’t matter anyway because you soon lose your power of speech and resort to burying your face in the crook of his neck, breaking his hold on your earlobe in the process.
When Guillermo throws open the lid of the coffin you’re clinging to Nandor’s body with his hand buried between your thighs and a completely obvious moan dying on your lips.
Guillermo’s mouth falls open in shock and you jump away from Nandor, scrambling over the side of the coffin and burning in mortification when you notice the camera crew lurking in the open doorway.
“Guillermo!” Nandor shouts. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”
---
“So...things are getting a little complicated with the human…”
Nandor is still seated in his coffin, one arm draped casually along the rim, and addressing the camera with an uncomfortable grimace.
“It’s like, do I want to drink her or do I want to do the sex with her?”
He looks off to the side, shaking his head in confusion. After a moment he finally climbs out of the coffin, standing and revealing the massive erection tenting his trousers.
“I wonder where Laszlo is…?”
---
There’s a saying in the derby world. “Roller derby will save your soul.” Sure, it might ruin your knees, break your nose, and deplete your bank account. But when you’re skating on the track with your league you can let go of everything else in your life for a little while.
The nagging black hole in your memories from the rave went away while Nandor touched you. But it returns with a vengeance soon after and you arrive at practice with a headache and a foul mood. Tonight is contact drills. Thank god. You really need to hit something.
You go through the motions of warming up, tossing greetings to your fellow skaters and letting yourself be in the moment. Your body knows these movements like the lyrics to a favorite song. You’re strong, fast and in control. Everything that you weren’t last night when...whoever it was attacked you and stole your memory. By the time you break a sweat you’re grinning with exhilaration.
You run through drills, losing yourself in muscle memory. The night ends with a short scrimmage and you on your ass after a truly impressive hit from one of the new skaters. The girl looks horrified that she’s hurt you but you just laugh it off, slapping your wrist guard to hers in congratulations.
By the time you step off the bus and make your way up to the front door of the house you’re feeling loose and pleasantly sore. And hardly frustrated at all after your interrupted moment with Nandor this evening.
Hardly at all.
As soon as you step inside Guillermo rushes up to you with a frantic look on his face.
“Nadja and Nandor are going to kill each other!” he cries.
Can you never have a nice, peaceful evening in this house? Maybe a game of Scrabble or a movie night?
All the vampires are assembled in the library and Nandor and Nadja are both floating in the air furiously hissing at one another like a couple of street cats.
“YOU BLOODY, SLUG-FACED ASSHOLE!” Nadja shouts, clawing out her arms and flying towards Nandor, who throws out a kick and sends her crashing into the opposite wall.
“Nandor!” you shout, disgusted. “What is going on!? I leave for a few hours and all hell breaks loose?”
“HUMAN! Tell your snake-ass boyfriend I am not to blame for what happened last night!” Nadja cries, breaking into a hiss as Nandor flies at her with murder in his eyes.
“Stop it, Nandor!” you shout, dropping your gear bag and reaching up to snag his ankle as he floats by. Rather than slowing him down as you intended, you end up getting dragged along the floor in his wake as he chases Nadja out into the hallway.
“Gaaah!” you shriek, hanging on to him and trying to dig your heels into the floor to slow him down. When that doesn’t work you forcibly pull yourself up his leg, grabbing onto the thick belt at his waist and climbing until you’re wrapped around him piggyback-style. You clamp your hands over his eyes and shout, “Stop!”
“Fu-cking human!” Nandor curses, reaching up and prying your hands off his eyes. “You stop it or I’ll drain you right now. I mean it!”
The threat falls flat, considering he’s currently in an apparent fight to the death over your safety and honor…
“If you kill Nadja I’ll never kiss you again...or any other stuff!” you growl, digging your fingers into his thick hair and giving it a yank. He hisses and swats at your hands.
Nandor actually pauses to consider your words, looking over his shoulder at you in hesitation before scoffing, “Psssk, you can’t resist my dark power, human. Now shut up and let me kill our roommate!”
Nadja has retreated up to the vaulted ceiling above the main entryway and Nandor surges upward after her.
You shriek in terror, “I’m afraid of heights, you jerk!”
“I’LL RIP OUT ALL OF YOUR DIRTY PUBIC HAIRS AND SHOVE THEM IN YOUR EYEBALLS YOU--!”
Just as Nandor is about to collide with your astonishingly imaginative vampire mama, Laszlo barrels out of nowhere and rams into him with a dramatic cry, “I say, keep your hands off my lady wife!”
Nandor launches backwards and crashes against the wall, crushing you and knocking the wind from your lungs in the impact. You both crumple onto the upstairs balcony. Nandor recovers at once, making ready to jump into the fray, but you’re lying on your back, coughing and wheezing as you try to get in a breath.
“Stupid...jerk...vampires! Knock it off!” you gasp.
Nadja flies down from her perch to land at your side with a moue of concern.
“Poor, baby,” Nadja coos over you before turning on Nandor. “Now look what you’ve done, donkey dick!”
Nandor kneels on your other side and whines, “I did nothing! It was Laszlo!”
You lift yourself up onto your elbows and eye both vampires with as much exasperation as you can summon.
“Enough! Nadja...I forgive you for leaving me on my own. I know how horny you are--”
“Thank you, human,” she sniffs.
“Nandor...stop trying to kill Nadja,” you order, trying to instill the tone of authority into your voice that comes so naturally to him.
He rolls his eyes and pouts but finally murmurs, “Fine.”
“Good…” you sigh, getting to your feet with a moan of pain. “I’m gonna go lay in bed with an ice pack on my ass. Try not to kill anyone--er, well...at least try not to kill each other…”
---
After a shower and some icing of the blossoming red and purple derby bruise on your right butt cheek, you make your way downstairs to find that Nadja, Laszlo and Nandor have all gone out hunting. Colin is sitting by himself in the library with his newspaper and Guillermo is tucked away in his room, talking to his mom on the phone.
“Hey,” you greet Colin as you gingerly drop down onto the couch. “Do we have any board games? Maybe Scrabble?”
A grin spreads across Colin’s lips and you miss the sheen of blue hunger in his eyes as he replies, “I think I’ve got an old Scrabble set around here somewhere…”
---
“...And then in 2017 it was David Eldar who took home the championship. But, of course, today the reigning champion is still Nigel Richards. But what’s really fascinating about competitive mind sports, like Scrabble--”
“What the fuck!” Nandor appears in the doorway of the library and you immediately turn to him and make grabby hands.
“Save me!” you implore dramatically.
Colin snickers under his breath, “Sorry, Nandor, I couldn’t help it. There’s just something about Scrabble that really gets me going…”
“Fucking Colin Robinson…” Nandor mutters darkly as he trails you up the stairs, following you right into your room and shutting the door on the camera crew behind him.
You plop down onto your bed, wincing a little with the pain of your massive bruise. When you glance up at Nandor you notice a splash of red blood on his chin.
“Have a nice...hunt?” you ask, trying and failing to sound nonchalant.
Nandor grins and perches beside you on the bed with a sweep of his cape.
“Jealous?” he questions with a smug smirk that bares his fangs.
Yes.
“No,” you insist. “I like my blood right where it is, thanks.”
Nandor narrows his eyes and needles, “Really...” His gaze falls to rest on the thrumming pulse of your throat. “Are you sure you don’t prefer it on my lips...or my tongue…?”
He crawls over you and the dark curtains of his long hair cascade down around your face as he bends to lay a kiss along your jaw.
“No biting!” you insist and he pulls back with a pout.
“Not even just to wash the taste of those joggers out of my mouth? They tasted like shit!” he complains.
You really shouldn’t be pleased that he prefers the taste of your blood over others but…
“You’re getting spoiled,” you grumble, reaching up and idly playing with his hair. “But you’re very pretty…”
Nandor settles down beside you and pulls you onto his chest, running his hands over your back and down to the curve of your backside with a lecherous leer.
“You’re the one who’s spoiled. I should have left you in the human cell to feed on when I choose…”
The threat is comically empty.
You roll your eyes at him and squirm up to press a kiss to his bearded chin, “Yeah, but then I’d probably be dead by now...and you wouldn’t have someone to smooch and cuddle in your coffin, so…”
He cups your face in his hands, drawing you back down and pressing his mouth to yours in a long, passionate kiss that erases the taste of jogger’s blood from his tongue.
“I suppose that there are certain benefits to mercy…”
Nandor picks up where you left off in his crypt. He kisses you senseless, until you’re a squirming bundle of need and then he finally reaches down between you and pushes his large hand down the front of your shorts and into your wet folds. His hands may have been made to hold a sword in battle, to bring pain and death, but they are also capable of the utmost tender and skilled care as he works you into a keening frenzy on top of him. You wail with the intensity of the orgasm that crashes through you and he keeps his hand on you, rubbing and stroking your oversensitive flesh until it almost hurts.
His erection juts between your bodies, obscenely obvious through the thick fabric of his trousers. You’re still breathless with the force of the pleasure he’s given you when you make your first shy, tentative advances. As soon as your warm hand presses against him through his pants Nandor let’s out a fierce growl and he grabs your wrist, directing you to apply more pressure, rutting himself against your little hand. You reach for the waist of his pants with your free hand, tugging at it and fiddling with the absurd number of buttons until he finally assists you, opening his fly and reaching in to free himself.
Nandor’s smile is goofy and pleased with himself as he watches your virgin eyes roam over the impressive length of him. You reach out to touch. He’s thick and heavy in your hand. Your touch is feather light, experimental, hesitant. You watch as his eyes fall closed and his lips part. Nandor the Relentless is at the mercy of his mortal pet. Your touch grows firm, more confident. He fists his hands into the sheets and pants out the faintest, needy cries of pleasure until he’s twitching and shaking in your hand with his own release. The cold spurt of his seed falls over your fist and stains the rich fabric of his tunic.
Now that it’s over you’re unaccountably shy. You tuck yourself into his side and hide your face in his shoulder as he recovers himself. You fall asleep like that, clinging to him. And for the first time in centuries Nandor sleeps outside his coffin, curled protectively around you.
---
You’re sitting cross-legged in the high-backed armchair across from the camera man. His question hangs in the air and you pull the hood of your sweatshirt up, tugging on the drawstrings to hide your face as you answer.
“Yeah...I’m still a virgin.”
Memories of the previous night swirl through your head and you tighten the drawstrings until only your eyes peer out from the hoodie.
“...for now.”
---
“Guillermo!” Nandor shouts from his crypt. “I have clothes for the washer woman!”
---
A/N: Ugh---please send me soft, nice things. I’m entirely unsure if I’m happy with this. The only part I know I love was the fight scene with Nadja and Nandor.
Tags:
@festering-queen @glitterportrait @kandomeresbitch @scuzmunkie @redwoodshadows
#nandor#nandor the relentless#nandor x reader#nandor the relentless x reader#nandor imagine#nandor the relentless imagine#nandor the relentless fanfic#what we do in the shadows#what we do in the shadows fanfic#wwdits fanfic#kayvan novak
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Song of the Pheonix Part 8
Hey guys, sorry this took so long to get out. It was super hard to find time to write this lately. Also I was having a hard time connecting plot points. I think I finally got this set up though. It's a little shorter than all the previous chapters, but it gets the important work done. The support for this fic is so uplifting! You can also find it on AO3, and any kudos and comments there are super helpful!
AO3 Link
Find the rest of the parts here:
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7
Enjoy!
(/Coriane/)
It’s surprisingly cold when the sun begins to rise. Doria snores softly in her chair, while I sit huddled in my mass of blankets. For two nights I’ve sat like this, watching my jailor nod off in the early morning. If I wanted to escape, that would be the time to do it. To combat the cold I could take a blanket, and I’d slowly been stashing away little bits of food that was brought to me. I had enough for maybe two days if I rationed it. I can’t leave without Mare though. At least, I feel like I shouldn’t leave without her. Would we even make it out of the hundreds of miles of plains to return to Ascendant? I don’t even know which direction the city is in, let alone how we’ll climb a mountain to get to it. And if she’s in the same state I remembered, I would have to carry her. I know for a fact that I’m not strong enough to do that. I’ll cross that bridge when I get there though.
Doria snorts and then shakes awake, drawing me out of my thoughts. Her bleary eyes blink into focus as she searches the tent wildly for me. When she finally sees me, almost hiding underneath my pile of blankets, she rubs at her eye with her palm. “Need coffee.” She grumbles before rising from the chair. I watch her pull her hair into a messy tie before asking, “Can I have some?”
Her eyes narrow until she says, “Get up.”
I push the blankets off of me and stand. She looks me over, and her lips curl as she takes in the same robe I’ve worn for three days now. Tapping her point finger to her thumb, she says, “Stay here.” She pushes the flap aside, only to pause and look over her shoulder once more. “Try to leave, and you won’t make it passed the third row of tents.”
“Why would I try and run through hundreds of miles of plains dressed like this?” I grumble as I sit on the vanity stool. Doria’s brow raises at my tone, only for her lips to curl up in a smirk as she leaves the tent.
Outside of the tent, the sounds of the early risers preparing for the day begin. Guards grumble as they switch shifts, alerting each other to potential obstacles. I strain my ears, hoping to catch a hint of Mare’s location. No one discusses her though. Squeezing the loose fabric of my robe in my fists, I try to wait patiently. I doubt Doria will bring me anything back, but I can hope. Coffee does sound nice, regardless of where I’m getting it from.
The tent flap opens, startling me, and Doria enters before stepping aside to reveal Proteus. Raising my chin as he lets the flap close behind him, I say, “You are not coffee.”
He chuckles, completely in control of his expression now. He looks me over before saying, “They’re scouring the mountain for you and Barrow. I have half a mind to leave two animal carcasses for them to find.”
My blood runs cold, imagining what that could do. Blood would run down the mountain in waterfalls if he does that. Swallowing the bile in my throat, I whisper, “Don’t. You’ll have to send more men and women to die if you do that.”
His expression hardens, and he closes the space between us to say, “You don’t know the first thing about what my people would do for their goal.” “Show me, let me try to help you. My son—“
“Your son is a middle rung on a ladder. He forfeited his right to sway anyone’s decision when he abdicated.” Proteus waves my words away with his hand. “I can get more out of killing you and Barrow than I can from trading you.”
My stomach rolls, and I spot Doria finger the knife on her belt behind him. My fingers twitch in my lap and I breathe, “Please. You can achieve more than you think through negotiations.” I would sing if I could, but Proteus avoids my eyes contact expertly. I should have never told him how to prevent me from singing. Beating myself over that mistake won’t help me now though. Besides, if I sing him into a stupor, I’ll have to figure out some other way to handle Doria. I can’t sing to them both.
He keeps his eyes on the floor as he says, “There is no negotiating with Montfort.”
“They’ve been in negotiations with the Lakelands for years now… with Norta, with Piedmont. They can be negotiated with!” I shout as I rise to my feet. Doria takes a step forward and I glare at her, and the song comes before I even mean to release it. “Leave.”
She freezes, her expression going slack as her eyes glaze over. Raising my chin, I sing to her again. “Leave us, he can handle—“
Proteus’s hand closes over my mouth, while his arm wraps around my middle. His fist presses into my diaphragm until the air leaves my body is a pathetic wheeze. Doria stumbles backwards, reaching up to grab her temple as Proteus throws me into the corner of the tent. My head hits the ground so hard my teeth rattle. I try to rise to my hands a knees in a daze, certain that this is now the only chance I will have to escape.
A wave of water hits me though, and I choke as it surrounds my head in a cocoon. I reach up with desperate hands, and try to claw at it. It simply rushes past my fingers though. Through the swirling froth, I can make out Proteus, who sweeps his hand in small circles, controlling the orb of water.
He’s a nymph.
My vision begins to tunnel as I drop my hands. My lungs burn for air, and through the wisps of my hair ripped from their braid by the force of the water, I can see Doria urging Proteus on. Her eyes are murderous and I don’t need to guess why. I made her weak for a moment, and if Proteus doesn’t finish me here, she will do it.
I open my mouth when I can’t take it anymore. Water rushes in and I fall forward, my vision going dark. The cocoon collapses and I swallow gulps of air, coughing on the remnants of the water as I do so. Doria’s muffled cries of surprise and fury echo on the edge of my vision. When I crane my neck from the ground, I spot Proteus leaving the tent, his expression pale and his hands shaking. Doria chases after him, leaving me alone in a puddle of mud.
(///)
The blankets do little to warm me after my near brush with death. But Doria and Proteus do not come back. I’m sure they left a new guard outside my tent. I’m willing to risk it though. Scrambling to gather my food in a little makeshift bag I made from the blankets, I try to make a plan. I was never a strategist, but Tibe used to try to tell me about his battle plans when we were first married. I try to channel him in this moment, thinking about what he would think about.
I edge toward the tent flap and curling a finger around it, I lift it just enough to look out. There are no guards, only a few children playing with a ball outside. They giggle and shout as they chase after it, kicking up dirt as they do so.
My heart pounds in my chest and I step out into the sunlight. Already I can feel my hair drying under the burning sun. I waste no time scurrying past the children and toward the center of camp. Maybe that will surprise them. After all, who would be dumb enough to escape through the center of camp? I hope that I’m thinking this through correctly. I doubt it, but if this is my one shot at escaping, so be it.
My next step is to find Mare. The fact that no one has tried to stop me makes me bold, and I pause for longer periods of time to try and locate the Shed where they took her.
I’m listening in on two women washing sheets when a cold hand grabs my arm from behind.
“You do have a death wish.”
I try to throw a punch, but Proteus catches it easily. Spinning me so my back is to his chest, he pins my arms to my sides and says, “But you do have the makings of a decent spy.”
“Let me go!” I spit at him, trying to stamp my heel on his foot. He simply turns it out to side, avoiding easily. I throw my head back to catch his nose in response, but he tilts his head to the side, and ends up with his nose buried in my neck. I tense at the feeling as he breathes against my skin.
“Not a chance. You and I have things to discuss.”
He drags me out of the camp then, passed the tents until we’re standing under the shade of a dying tree. He finally releases me so that I can spin away. Panting for breath, I stalk around him in a circle, trying to look imposing. He raises a brow at my posturing and then chuckles at it.
That makes me pause, and choke, “are you laughing at me?”
“You’re worse than a child. Did no one teach you how to fight?” He laughs when my face falls slack, and steps forward to grab my wrist again. Pressing his thumb into the tiny bones of my wrist he drags me close to him so he can whisper to me. “You’re going to help me end this war with Montfort. Whether you like it or not.”
I struggle against his hold, fury boiling in my stomach. It’s iced over by fear though when he says, “Do as I say, or I’ll find a nice hole to bury Mare Barrow in.”
“Why not bury me and use her?” I spit. His brows draw together then, and his eyes look me over for a moment.
“The Premier of Montfort wants all the Living Dead she can get her hands on. Barrow may be important to a number of people, but she’s not important to that snake of a woman. You are.”
I strain against his hold, desperate to put some distance between the two of us. I had underestimated how handsome he was the first time I saw him. My traitorous eyes want to observe him, compare him to other men I remember. It doesn’t help that he smells like lavender and something else, something earthy and clean.
“Where is she?” I manage to get out when I stop pulling against him. He drops my wrist and I stumble backwards and land on my back in the dirt. He stands over me, blocking the sun for the most part. I glare until he huffs.
“Will you stop struggling if I take you to her?”
I squint, wondering if I should even trust him. He did cut my bonds, and instead of killing me like Doria obviously wanted him to, he dragged me out here. I definitely don’t trust him as far as I can throw him, not that that would be very far. But do I have any other choice?
“Show me her.”
(/////)
The shed truly is a shed. It’s made of a few beaten up pieces of tin, and stands alone in a field. It’s a lonely, horrible place. And Mare is locked up inside. The heat is enough out here to make me sweat walking the few steps from the transport. I can’t imagine the temperatures inside that metal box.
The guards standing outside it, straighten from their slumped positions as Proteus approaches. He waves away their respectful salutes. They share worried glances before one of them reports, “she’s been quiet all day. Not a peep from her.”
“Good.” He says before steps up to the lock. The guard closest to the door waves a hand over it. It clicks and falls open with a rusted creak that I can feel in my bones. I wouldn’t have been able to get her out if even if I had escaped from the village. I didn’t have the strength to deal with the guards, and I would have needed a magnetron to open the door. I would have done all the work to get here, just to hit a road block at the finish line.
As the door swings open, a wave of sweltering air washes over my face. It’s hot enough in there to cook an egg in the dirt. Ignoring it, I hurry past Proteus to do a quick sweep of the room. Are they giving her water? Has she already died of heat exhaustion? It's shadowy in here, but I can feel the heat pressing in on me from all sides. I imagine when the door closes it's very similar to suffocating.
Mare’s huddled form in the corner draws me like a beacon. I drop to her side, cringing at the silent stone net before throwing it off. Proteus doesn’t bother to stop me as I roll Mare onto her back and whisper to her. “Mare? Mare are you awake?” She doesn't respond, and my heart beats faster in response. "Wake up Mare, show me you're alive."
Her skin is flushed like she has a horrible sun burn, and she’s soaked in sweat. A low groan escapes her, and I glare at Proteus over my shoulder even though relief washes over me. “Get her some water.”
He shrugs at my demand. “Promise to help me end Montfort.”
“Get her some water.” I grind the words out through my teeth. I’ve never been so furious in my life. Even in Norta we had never treated political prisoners like this. This was barbaric and inhuman. “Get her water and cool towel.”
Proteus doesn’t move. It’s a stalemate then. Hissing under my breath, I turn back to Mare. Gently pulling her hair back from her face, I start to tame it into a ponytail of sorts to get it off her neck. “It’s alright,” I coo to her as she groans again. Her skin boils under my hands. Not good. I know a dangerous fever when I see it.
My robe is much thinner than the heavy duty clothes she is still wearing. I make up my mind quickly. Stripping her of her shirt I wring it out as best I can. Even though my entire body recoils at what I’m doing, I carefully exchange it for the top of my robe. The shirt immediately sticks to my skin, and I want to be sick.
I swallow the bile, before going for her pants. We’re roughly the same size, but I’ll need a belt to keep the pants on. “Relax,” I whisper to her as I put myself between her and Proteus, trying to give her a sense of privacy. She probably couldn’t care less about it right now, but I won’t let that happen. Underneath my hands her skin feels slick like butter. I can barely get her clothes off. They stick to her like a second skin. She was in here for days. How is she not dead yet? I can't imagine being put through this.
Once I’m wearing her clothes, and I’ve adjusted enough to the feeling of them on my skin, I slide my robe on her. “Everything’s going to be okay.” My words a pathetic and they probably dont come close to comforting. Does she know that I might have to leave her in here again?
She groans again, and grabs my wrist in a grip that is so weak my stomach flutters. I shush her softly before looking at Proteus again. “Get her water and I’ll do what you need.”
“Swear your loyalty to my cause.”
“Are you really going to split hairs right now? She’s dying.”
He shrugs. “It’s nothing she doesn’t deserve. She’s killed more of mine than her life could repay a hundred times over.”
“<em>Get her water now</em>.” I sing it this time. His eyes glaze over, and he snaps to attention to complete the order. But the song wears off quickly. I’m too close to the silent stone, and its effects are washing over me as they radiate out.
He stumbles back and grabs at his temple. With a glower in my direction, he says, “Stop doing that.” “<em>Get her water.</em>” I sing it again, determined to push beyond the nauseating effects of the silent stone. He turns his eyes away from me though and my words are just a pretty melody that bounces off him. The guards arrive at the entrance after hearing the commotion I'm causing.
I throw myself to my feet and rush him, repeating the song over and over again. He catches me and pins me to the wall by my throat, making the tin rattle. I wheeze and claw at his wrist in response. I feel like a feral cat that has been caught. I'll gouge his eyes out if have to if it means I can get Mare out of this place.
Grimacing at the headache I’ve probably given him by trying to hammer my will home over and over again, he catches my wrist with his other hand. “I’ll take her back to the camp if you swear your loyalty to me, right here, right now. Does that appease you?” He pants in my face. I can’t get a breath of air passed his fingers to reply with words. Can I agree to this? If I do, will I be betraying the people who took me in initially?
But Mare is going to die in this horrid place if I leave her here. I won’t put her blood on my hands.
Nodding, I crane my neck to gasp for air. “Get her out.”
He drops me to the floor and turns to the guards with an order to bring Mare to the transport. They blanch at him, and try to argue but his next words are sharp and biting. They leap to action, rushing for Mare who has fallen silent again.
On the ground, I massage my throat and try to get air to my aching lungs. I watch them pick Mare up though. Her eyes, which are finally open, fall to me. I can’t even muster a smile for her, or another reassuring word. I have a horrible feeling I’ve just tied myself to a group that will use me as a shield against the people I actually trust. Have I doomed her and me? Probably. But she's alive, and she's out of here. Maybe we can come up with a plan together now. Relief washes over me as they carry her out into the sunlight. Proteus looks down at me with a condescending eye as I glower up at him.
"There may be a soldier in you yet." He breathes before grabbing my arm and dragging me to my feet. I have no idea what he's talking about, but I'm exhausted from using my ability so much in such a short time and I willingly let him drag me out to the transport too.
#red queen#glass sword#kings cage#war storm#broken throne#post broken throne#mare barrow#coriane jacos#song of the phoenix#SotP#song of the phoenix has been on my mind a lot lately#my writing#my fanfics#(((:#all support/comments/likes/kudos/reblogs are appreciated!
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Vapor (Part 6)
Hey guys! Part Six and I’ve only gotten to episode 2 of the show. This one book might be a long one! Loving the feedback, would love even more! Thanks for being so supportive everyone!
WARNING: THIS FANFIC MIGHT CONTAIN CONTENT THAT CAN BE TRIGGERING TO SOME Mentions of child abductions and murder
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I sat in the back of the van, taking huge hits of JJ’s joint. It hit so much harder than the weed I had. I leaned my head back and felt my high consume me. This was exactly what I needed after the fiasco I had just witnessed. I laid my head down on JJ’s shoulder and handed him back the joint. He finished it off and threw the remains out the window. I could feel his hot breath on my hair as he whispered to me.
“Are you okay?” he asked. I could feel him playing with my hair. I glanced up to see his beautiful face. His ocean blue eyes were dilated and stared down at me. I was so high, I couldn’t control where my thoughts went.
“Mhm,” I said. I answered his question, but my mind was already drifting elsewhere. I closed my eyes and let my thoughts take over. I thought about JJ. I thought about his lips on mine. I couldn’t control them. My eyes shot open at the realization that I was crushing on JJ once again.
“Adelaide,” he said, worried. I turned to look at him and my eyes met his. He was so close to my face that my heart began beating out of my chest. I sat up and caught my breath. He reached out for me, but I stopped him.
“I’m fine,” I said. I felt the van stop moving and forced myself out. JJ never left my side which made it really hard to ignore my feelings right now. I watched as John B pointed at JJ and told him that he was going to post up and look for bogeys. JJ instantly protested asking why he had to do it. I smiled as Pope stepped in.
“Look JJ,” Pope started. “There are independent and dependent variables. You’re an independent variable.” I chuckled as JJ genuinely got upset. He looked at the boy and told him to shut up. He argued back and forth for a second.
“We don’t know what you’ll do,” Pope finished. JJ was telling the boy to shut up and pointing at him. I placed my hand on his chest and he calmed down. I heard JB speak up.
“Listen to me for a second,” he said. “Addie, stay with him. Pope, you stand look out with JJ, okay? If we split up, we meet back at JJ’s house.”
And with that Kie and JB were gone. It was just JJ, Pope, and I. I sat down in the van and pulled out my vape. I hit it hard, exhaling as my eyes closed. Then I decided to address the elephant in the room. I asked them what we were doing here and what was so important. Pope looked at JJ as if he was ready to lie, but JJ sat down next to me and explained everything, beginning to end. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I laid back and took another hit, trying to process everything that was going on. I felt JJ leave my side and go out to play hacky sack with Pope for a little bit. It was a very short game though. Within minutes, we could hear police sirens echoing through the trees. I looked out the window to see a blue and white police SUV speeding down towards us. The two boys ran towards the van and hopped in, JJ taking the driver seat. We sped away quickly, remembering to meet them back at JJ’s house.
We dropped the van off at chateau and I drove the guys back over to JJ’s. I contemplated heading out, but I honestly was curious to where this would go. I wanted to continue this journey with them. I got out at the house and looked around. There was no sign of Luke anywhere. Still, JJ would not enter the house. I let out a sigh and watched as he lit up a joint. As much as I had a problem with guns, he had a problem with being home.
We just chilled in the backyard until John B drove up. He looked like he had been through hell, but didn’t seem to want to talk about it. JJ sat in the passenger seat, leaving Pope and I in the back. I was a little disappointed in all honesty, but maybe some space between JJ and I was for the better. When we got to The Wreck, Pope hopped out and went in to get Kie, who informed him she wasn’t coming. We all looked at JB and waited for him to tell us why, but instead he just got out and said he'd handle it. He wasn’t in there super long. Then we walked Kie with John shortly behind her. I was hoping she would climb in the back with me. I was hoping we could have a quiet girl talk. However, she kicked JJ into the back and took the passenger seat.
The sun had set and we still weren’t at our destination. JJ was already asking to lay low for this one and I truly wanted the same thing. I felt myself yawn as the drive began to put me to sleep. I felt JJ shift to give me some more room and pulled me into his chest. I felt both his arms tighten around me as I cuddled into his chest. I was too tired to fight him. I drifted off a bit, staying the slightest bit awake.
When the car stopped, I could faintly hear voices whispering around me. I tried to focus on them, but my overwhelming drowsiness made it hard.
“When have you ever seen JJ so whipped by a girl?”
“That’s not just any girl, that's Addie.”
“She’s right, it’s always been A.”
I felt a hand shake me and my head shot up. My eye twitched as I realized that we had stopped. My movement woke JJ as well who sat up quickly. He mumbled a curse word and we got out. My blood ran cold as I realized we were at a cemetery. John looked at me and told me I could wait in the van if I wanted too. I shook my head. I was going to be more afraid if I waited here alone. I hugged myself and walked with them to this huge mausoleum. I watched as the boys tried to move the stone that blocked the entrance. I screamed as a huge snake slithered out. JJ started to bark at it causing me to jump into the nearest set of arms. I felt John B awkward pat my back as Kie yelled at JJ to stop. I moved away from him and JJ grabbed me and pulled me towards him almost in a jealous manner. It made my flutter as he looked at me and apologized for scaring me. I bit my lip and nodded. JJ went to go help Kie get into the tomb and I let myself relax for a little bit. Nothing they were doing could shift my attention away from my budding feelings for JJ.
Just when I was deep into the contemplation of acting on my feelings or not, lights shined our way. Then there was shouting. Kie was out of the mausoleum and we all took off running towards the van. We got to the gate and I began to climb. I jumped down on the other side and got into the van, panting hard. Why were we always getting chased? I moved to the back of the van and sat next to the window. JJ sat by me and stared. I didn’t look though. I was overwhelmed by everything.
I didn’t speak the whole way back. I just sat and stared out the window. I realized my car was still at JJ’s so I asked JB if I could crash at the Chateau. JJ told me to take the spare bedroom and I nodded. I laid down and the sheets smelled like him. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.I couldn’t though. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that man. Finally, I slipped long enough for a dream to come through.
I was walking around the park. He was so nice, almost like my dad. He told me about his cute beagle. His name was Lucky and with my help he knew we could find him. I told him that JJ was really good at finding things. I told him a dog would really make JJ happy. I told him how JJ was lonely. Then he knelt down in front of me. He caressed my face like my daddy always did. He told how insightful I was and how beautiful I was. I smiled proudly as he praised me. He held my hand as we walked to the parking lot. He told me to hold out my hands and he would give me the toy. I held them out and he tied the leash around me. I screamed for JJ. I couldn’t see the playground, but maybe he could hear me.
I remember when he took me out of the trunk. I remember his house being across from a cemetery. I remember him telling me that there were a bunch of kids across the street and maybe I could play with them really soon. Julie. Scott. Lauren.
I woke up screaming. JJ was by my side as I panicked. I had never remembered that line. I had never remembered him saying those words to me. There were more victims than the ones in the trunk. I felt JJ’s hands cupping my cheeks as I muttered out gibberish. He was patient with me.
When I finally calmed down, JJ laid with me. He pulled me into his chest, just like when we were kids. The smell of weed and mint filled my lungs with every inhale. I knew falling for him was inevitable at this point, I was in too deep. I was so infatuated by him that I didn’t even remember Topper existed. He held me tightly and played with my hair, trying to do anything to get me to relax. I buried my face into his neck and just cuddled into him. As I was feeling myself become tired, I asked the question I’ve been dying to hear the answer to.
“Why did you not want to be my friend anymore?” I asked. He placed his lips against my forehead and gave me the easy answer.
“I don’t know, A.” he mumbled. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s more, JJ,” I mumbled. My voice was strained as I forced the words out. Their names haunted me now. “There’s more dead kids.”
A/N: Do you guys like this? Is the plot boring or is there something that doesn’t sit right? I’m trying to incorporate my own story into the one that already exists and don’t know if it’s working or now.... Let me know please!
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Tag List : @jjmaybangme @thebendslikebendover @justcallmesams @jellyfishbeansontoast @prejudic3 @jjtheangel @jiaraendgame @obxmxybxnk @waywardbarbie @talksoprettyjjx @obbx-tings @agirlwholovescoffee @thoughtsofthestars @outerbankslut @potterheadhollander @baby-pogue @lindzaylove @obxlife @queenofthebees003 @rockyyc77 @beth-winchester21 @outerbongs @sunwardsss @ilovejjmaybank @thesurfingsnail @animetiddi3s
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Thank you, again
300 followers, mostly comprised of non-porn robots, is really cool.
Thanks again for following my blog and gifting me with your likes, your comments, and your gorgeous gif reactions. I love to write, and you give me the encouragement to publish it. I love you ALL.
Now, here’s a fic about a dominant Rami coming home after an intense day of filming Mr. Robot (Rami x fem reader).
Special thanks to @sherlollydramoine for encouraging this idea. And a forever thanks to @alottanothing for being my writing buddy in this fandom.
Warning: Filthy smut, no under 18s, definitely NSFW
I shut my laptop, happy to be done with work for the day, and stood to take a lap around the apartment, stopping at the thermostat to turn the air conditioning down a little more; as it turned out, summer in New York City was no joke. I had no idea how Rami stood it, wrapped head to toe in black and in that thick hoodie.
As I thought about him, I realized I hadn’t heard from him all day. Rami’s involvement in each of his projects was admirable, and even more admirable was that despite his success, Mr. Robot was still such an important project to him that he was being credited as a producer this season.
Rami never opted to sit in a trailer or a van between takes because he always felt like he had more to learn. His successes only fueled his desire to become more involved in all aspects of filming, so while it wasn’t out of the ordinary for Rami to be too busy to text, he did normally send a message or two during lunch, especially if he needed me to remind him of an event or an upcoming interview. Granted, he had his people, but most of the time, if I wasn’t there to remind him to put pants on before he left, he’d just run out the door, half-naked, his mind already focused on the day’s work.
And this season of Mr. Robot was proving especially difficult for him. Rami didn’t talk about his Oscar often, but I knew he felt like the bar had been raised, like his normal level of perfection was not enough. He was putting an impossible amount of pressure on himself, and from what I gathered, the plot for this season was intense.
Rami, of course, refused to tell me anything, insisting that watching me watch the show on Sunday nights was one of his favorite things, especially if we were in LA and Sami was watching, too. He loved to take pictures of our reactions and then found it hilarious when we got mad at him because he wouldn’t tell us what was going to happen.
I wondered into the kitchen, resolving to talk to Rami when he got home, reminding him that he was free to vent to me. The thing about actors is that they like to keep emotion bottled up—it gives them fodder for their roles, but it can come at a cost to their mental health.
And speaking of mental health, despite working at home, I kept a strict routine to keep my own mind balanced. When Rami was shooting during the day, he was usually home by 6:00 or 7:00 and starving. I decided to get started on dinner, so I pulled my hair into a loose ponytail, careful not to completely mess up the waves I had styled in this morning.
I was leaning over the kitchen island, flicking through my cookbook when I heard the key in the lock. It was only 4:30, so I was surprised when Rami walked in, still clad in his Elliot hoodie and tight black jeans.
“How are you still wearing that thing? It’s so hot,” I said as I adjusted the strap of my tank top.
Rami completely ignored that I had spoken, and when he stopped in front of me on the opposite side of the island, I took a hard look at him. The make-up department hadn’t needed to work too hard to make him look tired; he was tired.
But there was something else—something underneath his tired eyes that I wasn’t sure I had seen before.
This wasn’t the first time Rami had trouble stepping out of character, especially Elliot or Robot. Looking at him now, I knew Rami was far away, struggling to slough off the skin of whoever he had to be. This embodiment of his characters was what made him such a brilliant actor, and while he refused to call himself a method actor, there were times when he couldn’t help it—when he got himself in so deep that he needed help to find his way back.
Unsure of what he needed, I sighed and returned to my cookbook, figuring he would speak when he was ready. Instead, I found the cookbook yanked out from under my gaze and thrown across the room.
“What the fu—” was all I managed before Rami had reached across the island and grabbed my face, roughly cutting me off with a bruising press of his lips to mine.
I brace myself on the island, my palms flat on the cool surface, a sharp contrast to the heat of his hands pressing into my cheeks and jaw.
When he released me, his eyes were already wide open and staring at me. My mouth was open and my breathing was uneven as I tried to read what he wanted. That kiss certainly gave me an idea, and this was not the first time Rami needed my body to bring him back, to ground him again. Visions of the last time he needed to fuck his way back to reality flew through my mind, and I felt the beginnings of arousal take hold.
By now, I knew what he was like when he struggled to balance Elliot’s soft distance with Robot’s hard awareness. But this, this was Rami struggling to balance . . . something else.
Fucking Sam, I thought.
I reached up, my fingers almost closing on the zipper of his hoodie before Rami’s hand shot to mine, squeezing my fingers while very subtly shaking his head no.
Sometimes, it was as easy as getting him out of his costume. Once the hoodie or the jacket or the make-up was gone, he would start to feel like himself again.
He still hadn’t let go of my fingers, and now he was pulling on them, on my hand, and pulling me further over the island. His other hand snaked around the back of my head and his fingers found the clip that was holding my hair back.
He pulled the clip out and tossed it across the room and I heard the plastic crack and ting across the wooden floor of the apartment.
Rami released me and I quickly stepped back, my ass hitting the countertop that encased the sink, but he hoisted himself up and over the counter, swinging his legs over the edge and landing with a thud directly in front of me.
My chest was rising and falling, and I could feel the tinge of pink burning in my cheeks. It was too hot in the apartment, maybe too hot on the planet, when he needed me like this. As my eyes darted over his face, reading his expression, I figured out that this was about regaining control. Despite the aggression of his actions and his dark silence, I knew he would never hurt me; he needed me too much to risk not having me in his life.
His big, polychromatic eyes, looking blue in this moment as the sunlight still streamed in from the windows, were fixed on mine, silently seeking permission to take back the control he had lost when he let his new character in.
I raised my chin and fixed him with an arrogant stare.
“I can take it.”
Rami’s expression remained unchanged as his voice, deeper and more raspy than usual, commanded, “On your knees.”
I lowered myself to the floor, my eyes perfectly level with the waistband of his jeans.
He reached down and popped open the snap before sliding his zipper down and his half-hard cock came tumbling out.
This was new—
But I didn’t have time to wonder if he simply forgot to put on underwear or if it was intentional, because he tapped the tip of his cock against my lips and I opened, my eyes sliding shut as he slid into my mouth. He grabbed my hair, pulling hard enough to make me open my eyes. When I looked up at him, he nodded.
He wanted me to watch him as he grew hard in my mouth.
I rolled my tongue around his cock before flattening it again so I could suck and enjoy this brief taste of him at mid-size.
Rami began to move his hips, his cock swelling and filling my mouth, but before he really started fucking my mouth in earnest, he stopped, letting go of my hair and pulling himself free.
“Get up,” he directed, absolutely nothing soft about his request as he tucked his hard cock back into his jeans.
I stood and he reversed our positions, pushing me back into the island of the kitchen, trapping me between the hard edge of the counter and his hard, tense body. His hands came up and wrapped around my neck, squeezing lightly as he tilted my head back, his eyes roaming over my face before settling on my gaze again. My lips were parted, still shiny from the spit of his too-short blowjob, and I knew I looked desperate. I shifted my hips and opened my legs slightly, inviting him to take what he needed.
I also wanted him to kiss me, but he saw that on written on my face and denied me.
Instead, he slid one hand into my hair to take a strong hold again, and the other, oh fuck, he slid his other strong, warm hand slowly down my neck and over the center of my chest, pressing into the middle of my cleavage before reversing his arm so that he slid the rest of the way down my body and into my shorts and my panties, his middle finger pushing between my outer lips, sliding roughly over my clit and straight between my inner lips.
I grunted, and he shifted his hand from my hair to my jaw to cup it while he pushed his thumb against my lips, silencing me. I tried to open my lips to pull his thumb into my mouth, but he held firm and shook his head no.
And then his middle finger was slipping into my wet heat, gathering all the moisture that had pooled there. He fucked me achingly slow with that single finger, occasionally pressing against my g-spot, but never with enough intent to get me off.
I couldn’t beg with his thumb pressing my mouth shut, by I could buck my hips against his hand, chasing some interaction between some part of him and my clit.
His eyes stayed on mine, watching my every reaction, watching my every thread of being come undone at his touch—only at his touch. And when my chest was flushed and my eyes were begging for more, he slid his soaking middle finger to my clit and rubbed, up and down and into tiny circles, the pressure just right.
He was still watching, and now, not even the pressure of his thumb could keep my mouth from opening and panting as my orgasm neared; my lips mumbled nonsense around his thumb as I openly begged to come, and just as my body started to release, pleasure flushing against the dam, ready to burst, he stopped.
A strangled sob of protest escaped my throat, and that was when he smiled, a small, supercilious smirk because he knew he had me, he owned me in that moment and he denied me again.
Rami released my face, and he reached down to undo the clasp on my shorts and to slide the zipper down. He yanked them and my underwear off, stepping on my discarded clothes as he moved to grip under my ass so he could lift me onto the island.
The cold feeling of the counter against my skin made me shiver, but Rami didn’t care as he opened my thighs, the skin of my legs sticking as he slid them over the granite. He pushed me to lie back and he hooked his arms, still clad in that damn hoodie, under my legs, opening me obnoxiously wide to his mouth.
He ate me like he’d been waiting his whole life for this particular meal, and not a part of my bared sex went untouched by his tongue. He sucked on my inner lips, my outer lips, and my over-sensitive clit. He flicked his tongue over my center, lapping at my arousal and I could hear him swallowing because I was so wet, too wet, and bordering on overstimulation.
My thighs were shaking against the restraint of his arms and I wanted to come so badly that there were tears pooling at the corners of my eyes.
I was free to beg while Rami held me down with his arms and while his head was buried between my thighs.
“Please.”
“Please.”
“Please.”
“I’ll give you anything you want.”
“Just let me come.”
“Please.”
“Rami—please,” I begged, emphasizing his name, hoping it would be enough.
I felt him wipe his lips and his chin on my thigh before he yanked me back to the edge of the counter, and when I sat up to look at him, I could still see my wetness smeared on his face.
“Who makes you feel like this,” he hissed, his voice still low and gravelly, his breath ghosting over my face.
“You, Rami. You make me a fucking mess,” I said, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes as my fingers clutched the edge of the counter, not daring to reach for him.
This time, when he smiled, I saw the ghost of my Rami in his eyes. He was coming back, but this other, he was still here, and he was not yet done with me.
Rami picked me up, my legs locking around his lithe, strong body; I grasped onto the fabric of his hoodie and I buried my face in the material, wiping away the tears of desperation as he carried me to our bedroom.
He tossed me on the bed, and I watched with wide eyes as he reached for the zipper on his hoodie, finally sliding it off his shoulders. He let it fall to the floor, and I was right. I saw more of my Rami emerge as he shed Elliot’s clothes.
When he was naked, his cock swollen and leaking, he reached down to take himself in his hand, pumping from base to tip as his eyes raked over my body. He let go of himself as he moved onto the bed and reached to pull my tank top off, deftly grasping behind me to also unhook my bra and toss it off.
I watched him, waiting to see his next move because this Rami was still unpredictable, still wild and still straddling the duality between this dark character and his normal self.
He ghosted his fingers over my body, lightly touching any expanse of skin that pleased his fancy, watching as goosebumps formed and I shivered. He lightly rolled his thumb over my nipple before he dipped his head to take the hard nub into his mouth, sucking with earnest before gently scraping his teeth over it.
I whimpered and he moved to repeat the action, and as he teased my nipple, he positioned his cock and slid into me with practiced ease.
A strangled version of Rami’s name clawed its way from my throat as I basked in the feeling of his cock finally inside of me, filling me up and threatening to finally give me my release.
He shook off my hands as I reached for him and he grabbed my wrists to hold them together over my head. From this angle, he ground into my body, his eyes locked on mine while he fucked me so deeply I could feel him bottoming out. I spread my legs and reached up to take hold of the headboard, showing him I could a good girl and do exactly what he wanted.
He smiled, a tiny crook of a smile and nodded his head once before he pulled back to sit up on his haunches. He hooked my legs under my knees and slammed into me. I gripped the headboard tightly and held on as he set a relentless pace, fucking whatever he needed to fuck out of himself.
I watched his face and he watched mine as I whimpered and praised him, repeating his name over and over again while he slammed into me, the sound of skin on skin harsh in the quiet of our bedroom.
My orgasm took me almost as roughly as Rami had, surprising us both and causing his thrusts to stutter as my walls contracted around him. He slowed a little, adjusting to my increased tightness, and I could tell he was close as he sucked in his bottom lip, biting it to hold back for as long as he could.
The duality of being an actor, a true actor who believed in the power of catharsis, of taking the audience on an emotional journey, is brutal, and as much as Rami would like to leave all of those characters behind, all of those pieces that didn’t belong to him behind, he couldn’t. And that’s what I was here for, here to give him what he needed so he could always find his way back.
“Oh god, Y/N,” Rami moaned out as he released his lower lip, teeth marks evident on the skin, and I knew his body was burning with the need to come.
I could hear him now, my Rami, completely returned as he reached his climax, shuddering and moaning, riding out his intense orgasm.
He stopped moving, his body flush against mine as his head was thrown back and I could do nothing other than admire the way the stubble was beginning to stand out on his chin and jaw, highlighting the absolutely godly design of his bone structure.
I relaxed my arms and shook them a little to get the blood flowing again, and the movement called his attention back to me.
Still inside of me, still holding my thighs, he looked at me with concern, the warmth and love back in his eyes, damn near radiating as he took in my mess of a state.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Ram—better than fine, actually,” I said with a grin.
“Fuck,” he growled, finally pulling out of my body and looking at my swollen pussy.
“Well, no. I’m good on that for a little bit,” I teased.
“I hope I didn’t hurt you. If I ever—”
“Don’t,” I said sitting up and crawling onto his thigh, taking him into my arms as he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly to his flushed body.
“I love you so much,” he whispered into my tangled hair.
“You know how you’re always asking me if there is ever something you could do for me?”
“Anything—god, love. You know that I’d do anything for you,” he said as he pulled away from the hug and searched my face with his eyes.
“Are those new leather pants of yours here or in LA? I never did get to see them in person,” I said, biting my lip to hide my smile.
“Fuck. I’ll buy ten more pairs and take them with me everywhere we go if that’s what you want.”
“Satan’s pants,” I said unable to stifle my giggle. “Can you imagine the devilish things they may prompt us to do?”
“I love you so fucking much, Y/N,” Rami said with a grin as he kissed every part of my face that he could reach until I was laughing so hard I had to push him away.
“I love you, Rami,” I said, my laughter faltering as I looked in his eyes, a happiness settling over me unlike anything I’d ever known.
#rami malek#rami malek smut#rami malek x reader#female reader#rami x reader#rami malek fanfiction#Rami Malek mr robot#rami malek imagine
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Enraptured Writer ch 5
Chapter 4 <-- Masterlist --> Chapter 6
Pairing: Tom Holland/Reader
Summary: Writing fanfiction was your guilty pleasure, but it was definitely not meant to be shared with certain people -- specifically, people named Tom Holland.
Word Count: 1,348
Warnings: Language and smut, my usual go-tos.
A/N: The random number generator decided this would be my next update, so here it is!
You discarded your dress on the floor, bra and panties quickly joining it, before you could overthink it. If he wasn’t actually into you, he wouldn’t have let things progress as far as they had, right?
Tom was still lying there, obviously checking you out and liking what he saw, which was a major relief. His lips were slightly parted, and he ran his tongue over them subconsciously.
Your heart beat faster in your chest at his stare.
“I think you’re overdressed for the occasion,” you eventually commented, a bit shyly.
“Oh, yeah,” he agreed, glancing down at himself as if he’d forgotten he was wearing clothes at all.
You wondered if you’d had that effect on him, if you were making him as deeply aroused as he was making you. You questioned for the hundredth time how this was even your life.
He stood to quickly strip off his shirt, pants, and boxers, not making a show of it.
It was your turn to check him out. He had muscle, and lots of it. You definitely didn’t need that to find a guy attractive, but it was a good look on him. There was so much smooth skin that you think would look pretty marked up by your mouth, if he let you. You hoped he’d let you.
He wasn’t hard again yet, but you intended to change that soon.
You crawled across the bed toward him as seductively as you could, grabbing him by the hips and tugging him close to the edge.
“What are you-” he started asking, before you mouthed at his soft dick wetly. “Oh, you’re doing that.”
He didn’t sound displeased, so you continued to lick and suck on him, hand reaching down to gently play with his balls. You followed your hand down with your mouth.
“Fuck,” he moaned, tangling his fingers in your hair.
You were pleased to discover he was hardening back up nicely and took his dick back in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head and sucking on him. It didn’t take a lot for him to reach full hardness again.
He wasn’t huge, and you were glad for that. It definitely gave you more options to work with.
Pulling back from him, you glanced up through your lashes and told him, “you can fuck my mouth, if you want.”
“Fuck yes,” he agreed and tightened his fingers in your hair to work your mouth over his dick, gradually going deeper as he got more into it.
You moved your hand between your legs, finding your already slick clit and rubbing it, groaning in pleasure around his dick.
“What?” he asked, looking down to see what you were doing. “I’m getting close. I want to wait until you cum before I do.”
You sped up the motion of your fingers, trying desperately to get there before he did. When your climax hit, you pushed your head forward to take him into your throat, swallowing around him to encourage him to chase his own completion.
He cried out your name, among a steady stream of profanity in that delicious accent of his, as he spilled down your throat. You swallowed again, the salty and slightly bitter taste on the back of your tongue.
The lack of oxygen made the experience particularly heady, your vision eventually going swimmy.
After his orgasm subsided, he pulled back, and you took in several deep gulps of air, grateful to have access to oxygen again.
“Thank you,” he said, affectionately running a thumb over your cheek and down to trace your swollen lips.
“Anytime,” you responded, but your voice was completely wrecked.
He winced. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s all good,” you reassured him. “No regrets here.”
“Let me make it up to you, love,” he offered, moving you around on the bed like you weighed nothing, and god, was that a turn on.
He put your legs over his shoulders and got between your thighs. His tongue slipped between your folds, and then he pulled back. “Fuck, you’re soaked. Is all this for me?”
“Definitely all for you. You don’t seem to know how hot you are, and I’ve been fantasizing about this for years,” you admitted quietly.
He chuckled. “Well, I hope I don’t disappoint.”
Before you could respond, he dived in and circled your clit with his tongue. Two fingers pushed into you. He thrust them in and out wetly, your slick making it embarrassingly easy.
“Oh my god, Tom,” you moaned, unable to help rolling your hips against his face as you chased after another orgasm.
He pulled back again. “Love the way you say my name, darling.”
“I’m so close. Please don’t stop,” you begged.
His tongue and fingers started working you again, quicker this time, and he flicked his tongue against your clit several times.
That was it for you.
“Tom, Tom, oh my fucking god, Tom,” you cried out, toes curling and gently tugging his curls.
As your climax subsided, he slowed down, eventually stopping when it was too much. He wiped his face off on his arm and crawled up on top of you.
His lips met yours in a surprisingly heated kiss that he deepened almost immediately. You could taste yourself on his lips and tongue, bittersweet, but you didn’t mind.
Your tongues started to fight for dominance, but you acquiesced and let him take over the kiss.
You made out unhurriedly until you felt his erection rubbing against your stomach.
He broke the kiss, breathing heavily.
“Can we?” you asked, not finishing the sentence.
“Yeah, I want to fuck you,” he responded and climbed off of you and the bed. “Just need to grab a rubber.”
He pulled one out of his duffel bag, tearing open the package and rolling it down his length.
You spread your legs, reaching out to invite him to settle between them again.
He took you up on your invitation and lined himself up with your entrance. “Ready, love?”
“Whenever you are,” you responded, heart racing in your chest.
He pushed forward and sunk into you in one long thrust, filling you up nicely.
“You feel so good inside me,” you told him.
“You feel amazing. So tight, and hot, and wet,” he commented as he started moving. “I could fuck you forever.”
“And I wouldn’t stop you.” You groaned as he hit a particularly good spot with his dick, and he made a point of hitting that spot every time he could.
His hips smacked against yours in quick thrusts, and soon neither one of you could talk.
You moaned into each other’s mouths in something that you could barely call a kiss, all tongues, and teeth, and desperation.
He snaked a hand between your bodies to find your clit and started rubbing around it with two fingers, teasing, then giving you what you needed, and frustrating the hell out of you by just teasing again.
You pulled your mouth back from his. “Please, Tom,” you whimpered.
“Shhh, I’ve got you, darling,” he reassured you, and finally completely stopped teasing.
Your climax hit you gradually, waves of pleasure emanating from your core as he fucked you through it, hard and fast. You rolled your hips against him and raked your fingers down his back.
His orgasm hit as yours was at its peak, and his thrusts grew rougher and more erratic as he filled the condom.
You reached up to wipe the sweat off your brow. Both of you were damp with sweat, his curls disheveled and sticking to his forehead.
“You know, you really look gorgeous like this,” you said.
“You don’t look half bad yourself. Thoroughly fucked is a good look on you,” he teased. “Did I live up to your expectations?”
“Oh yeah,” you responded. “I don’t even remember how many times I’ve cum tonight.”
“Four,” he answered. “I was aiming for five, but we still have time tonight. Maybe an even half dozen would be better.”
“Do you think you could get it up again?” you asked.
“For you? Most definitely.” He grinned.
Taglist: @adayasgeorgia @moorehollandplz @thollandss @dasexydevitt13 @imagine-lovebug @relise-thefury @strang-ersclub @hollandisapuppy @goldenpeaxh
#tom holland#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland fanfic#Tom Holland Fan Fiction#tom holland imagine#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland x y/n#tom holland scenarios#tom holland smut#tom holland reader insert#tom holland reader#tom holland you
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6. Empty Kiss - When one of you don’t kiss back, just the stoic feeling of their lips on yours, it’s empty, like no one even cares anymore. - Andreil fight, mayhaps???
Andrew knew something had shifted when feelings started to break through his drug fueled haze. At first, it was weak, just fleeting impressions sneaking through when he approached sobriety. There was fear, the urge to run, and, most improbably, every once in awhile he actually cared about Exy. The anger, the stubbornness, those he recognised, those could almost be his own, but the longing to be a part of the family, that was something that he had stomped out long ago.
Again, he blames the drugs because it took him far too long to realise the feelings were not his own. They belonged to this boy, the rabbit, scarred and terrified, but strong and full of words like knives, Neil Josten, the runaway, soulmate to the monster.
He wonders if Neil knows. He mustn’t. Would the longing to belong be this strong if he knew his soul had found a home? He wonders sometimes if Neil can feel anything from his side of the bond and if the drugs would let him care, he would rail at the injustice.
It takes months for the mark to even begin to show. It’s a fox paw because of course it is. Neil’s obsessed. And Andrew thinks it fits somehow because maybe if there was nothing standing in the way and he could let Neil be his everything, he would be drawn into everything else he was missing, the home and family that the Palmetto Foxes provided.
He traced the lines over and over in bed at night, pressing hard, trying to feel what he knew it should mean but he usually fell asleep without an answer.
Thanksgiving arrived and everything changed again. Drake happened and Andrew was separated from everyone, separated from Neil, and he was getting clean. He would trace the mark every time he couldn’t sleep, when the pain from withdrawal grew too much. He wished he could feel Neil, that he could draw strength from his feelings, from a Christmas celebrated with friends, and a new year full of possibility. But he was also happy that the bond hadn’t darkened yet and Neil wouldn’t have his Christmas ruined by Andrew’s pain.
And then he comes back, and Neil is bruised and broken, and Andrew never really believed this was real. But sometimes now, Neil lets him pin him to the ground and kiss him slowly and the fox paw on his forearm is red as scarlet. Neil blushes as red as the mark when he finally pulls up the hem of his shorts to let Andrew see the outline of the key traced on his inner thigh. Andrew kisses Neil like his life depends on it and waits for the other shoe to drop.
The away game in Binghamton is an exercise in restraint. He sits beside Neil in the bus and can feel every thought and feeling as Neil remembers their kisses the night before. Neil is dangerous. Andrew makes promises.
He feels a spike of fear from Neil as he waits for him outside the showers. He almost barges in to demand an explanation but Neil calms almost immediately. Neil exits the showers, his hair wet and his shirt clinging to his skin as if he hadn’t properly dried off before putting it on. He looks around, able to hide his hint of surprise from everyone but Andrew. He comes and stands directly in front of Andrew and smiles. It isn’t a smile that Andrew recognizes.
“Thank you. You were amazing,” Neil said, and Andrew was overwhelmed. Neil was leaving the stadium, right behind the security guard before Andrew could even begin to sort out what Neil had just given him. There was pride, and something Andrew thought might be love, but there was fear too, and bitter determination, and Andrew ran to catch up to Neil when he realised the sour thread running through everything was goodbye.
Then the riot began and he was too late. He could feel fear and pain from Neil, enough to drive him mad. He barely felt the elbow driving into his eye.
And then the riot ended and the fear and pain went on. Andrew found Neil’s duffle, phone tucked inside, and his Exy racquet a few feet away, handle broken and splintered. Neil was nowhere.
And no one else seemed worried. Dan was preoccupied with Matt’s injuries. Wymack and Abby were perfectly calm and said they would call around to the other hospitals once they had had time to get organised. There was no reason to panic now. Everyone he knew was sitting, laughing, relieved to be alive and safe, and his own world was imploding. Pain was fluttering up and down his hands and arms. Andrew knew intimately what a razor to the forearm felt like. Fire licked at his inner thigh and his soulmark exploded in pain. Andrew screamed hoarsely and doubled over, collapsing to the floor.
Abby was there a moment later, frantically patting him down for injuries. Andrew couldn’t speak because it was suddenly much too quiet. The place in his mind that Neil had occupied since they met was empty and echoing. Even the residual ache from Neil’s pain had disappeared entirely.
“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,” Andrew whispered as he tore off his right armband. “It’s not black, he’s alive.” But the mark had changed to a deep purple and Andrew didn’t know what that meant.
“Neil’s…” Dan choked. “He’s your soulmate?”
Nicky deflated, pulled a wad of cash out of his wallet, and handed it to Allison. Dan shot them a venomous glare.
“We’ll get him back, Andrew,” Wymack started but Andrew was done, he pushed past them all and locked himself in the bathroom. He didn’t emerge until Wymack knocked on the door hours later.
“He’s been found. The FBI has him,” he said simply.
Andrew stood and strode out into the main room. Two men in suits stood there, falsely sympathetic. Andrew marched right up to the taller of the two men, grabbed his black tie, and yanked the man’s face down to his level. “Where is Neil? I want to see him.”
The man fought and Andrew lost himself to a haze of rage until he feels metal around his wrist and recognizes Wymack’s face. “You can’t do anything for Neil if they lock you up,” Wymack said.
Andrew listens. But he doesn’t settle until he comes back from parking the bus and Neil is there in front of him again. It feels wrong. Neil is on his knees and Andrew is front of him. He’s close enough to touch, so why can’t he feel him? Andrew gently peels the bandages off Neil’s face and the wrongness intensifies. The burns, the cuts, those would have been agonizing, and Andrew hadn’t felt them at all.
Andrew leans forward, grasps the back of Neil’s neck, and pulls him into a desperate kiss, heedless of the people watching. And it’s just empty, it’s nothing, Neil isn’t kissing back. Andrew pushes closer, frantic, trying to find the fire of their kisses from only days before. But nothing changes. It’s like Neil doesn’t even care.
Neil pulls back first. Andrew tries to chase his lips but Neil’s hand is firm on his chest and it so clearly is shouting no. Neil clutches at his inner thigh, the place his soulmark had formed, and Andrew could see the bulk of bandages under his pants.
“I’m sorry,” Neil said hollowly. “I thought I was going to die. I couldn’t let you feel my death. I…I broke it.”
For the first time, Andrew could understand why Neil ran. All he wanted to do was run until he couldn’t feel anymore. He missed the oblivion of the drugs. But he didn’t run. Neil still had to be questioned by the FBI and, even if Neil would never feel the same way about him again, he had to make sure Neil returned, that Neil could keep his found family, his Foxes.
Returning to Palmetto was probably the hardest thing he had ever done. Reminders of what he had lost were everywhere. He couldn’t go to his rooftop refuge, he wanted to tear the beanbag chairs in their living room apart. Mere hours after returning, he found himself sitting on his bed, armbands on the pillow beside him, his sharpest knife resting in his hand, poised over the fox paw on his forearm. One quick slice and he could stop feeling all of this.
A soft knock interrupted his musing. He shoved the knife under the pillow with a promise of later and answered the door. Neil stood there, black garbage bags and duct tape cradled in his bandaged arms.
“I’m sorry,” Neil said. “I need to shower but I can’t cover…my hands…” He shrugged. “I didn’t want Matt to see my scars.”
And Andrew nodded and followed Neil to the bathroom because he doesn’t know what he’s asking. There’s so much weight to this moment, seeing Neil completely naked for the first time. The soulmark is hardly visible. The outline of the key is broken by white jagged lines as if Neil had torn it open with his fingernails. It’s the only wound that has already healed and scarred. Andrew wants to touch it but Neil’s answer is no longer yes.
He helps Neil cover his wounds and turns on the shower. He should leave but this might be his last moment to let himself feel and he’s not ready for it to end. He follows Neil into the shower, fully clothed, and starts to shampoo his hair. Neil faces him. Andrew almost wishes he would turn away. He can feel the water running down his neck and Neil is so close. Neil bends for a moment, chasing a rivulet of water as it snakes down Andrew’s neck. Andrew moans and Neil pulls back, blushing.
Andrew finishes Neil’s hair and kneels down to wash his legs and feet. He’s eye level with Neil’s cock and this is not how he imagined being in this position.
“I wanted this so much,” Neil speaks hoarsely from above him. “I would dream about this. I remember the want, everything I felt about you. But it’s like there is a wall between me now and me then. I wish I could go back.”
Andrew is suddenly glad that the water pouring down his face disguises his tears. He blinks up at Neil. “Yes or no?” He holds his breath.
Neil face twists but he nods and Andrew leans forward and sucks him down. Neil cries out brokenly and Andrew tries to pour everything he had ever received through the bond from Neil into this one encounter that would never be repeated. Neil sobs when he comes. Andrew crowds him into the wall of the shower, keeping him on his feet. He grips one hand around the back of Neil’s neck and holds eye contact and his other hand slips down into his pants tugging and stroking, completely silent as he finds his own orgasm.
“Goodbye, Neil,” he says and he leaves the shower, dripping water back into his own room. The soulmark on his forearm has faded into a light gray and Andrew knows it is over. He scratched absentmindedly at the side of his neck where Neil’s lips had been mere minutes before. He looked in the mirror and saw the faintest outline of a fox paw where before had been unmarked skin.
He dashes back over to Neil’s room. Neil is scratching the back of his neck and craning to get a look at it in the mirror. Andrew looks and rests his forehead on the back of Neil’s neck. It’s a key. Andrew is feeling again. He’s not sure if it’s from his own heart or that of the boy in front of him, but he knows what the feeling is, it’s hope.
#i'm sorry#but you gave me a very angsty prompt#how much do you hate me right now?#soulmate au#andreil#aftg#i wrote this
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Heavy Rain Ch.6 (Shalaska/Katlaska) - Insomnidelic
AN: Wow. Life has me so shook right now. I’m sorry this took so long, but you wouldn’t believe the month I’ve had. Caution: things get a little angsty- but don’t worry. Its not over just yet.
“So then I threw his fuckin’ phone at him and peaced out.” Justin slurs before taking another lingering swig of Maker’s Mark. The bottle had somehow made its way into his hot little hands during his retelling of the day’s earlier events.
“Wait, you just left? C’mon, I know Sharon must have had something to say about it.” Adore attempts to pry more information out of the inebriated queen, knowing he was leaving holes in his story. He’d spent nearly an hour going over his lunch date with Katya and the run in with fans, but when it came to the confrontation with his ex, he glossed over a few details.
“Just a bunch of bullshit about me and Brian…” He trails off. His mind lingers to the older queen’s last words to him before leaving him and his ex in the hotel suite.
“Please, don’t…”
Don’t what? Don’t believe everything Aaron says? Easy enough. But Brian had admitted to it.
"You and Brian what?” Violet pipes up, glancing at Adore excitedly while awaiting Justin to spill the T. Neither of the younger queens ever expected that Alaska and Katya had anything going on behind closed doors, but the way Justin eluded to it now had them thinking otherwise.
"That we fucked. I mean, it’s probably true. I had a pretty intense dream about it…” He trails off once again, his mind wandering to the sexy memory of the two of them in bed together. If he wasn’t so angry at his “friend”, he’d probably be fucking Brian right now just to get over Aaron.
“Holy shit, are you serious? Tell us more!” Adore urges.
“No, no I hardly remember any of it.” He protests, throwing back the glass bottle and draining it of its contents. “And now I’m all out of juice.” He whines and slams the bottle back onto the counter.
The crowd cheers as lights begin to flicker on throughout the venue. As the backup generator kicks in, Violet’s familiar burlesque music fills the air, the track picking up where it would have left off had the set gone as planned.
“Fuck, I didn’t think the lights would come back on so soon. I drank too much! I don’t know if I can get up there and give them what they want.” Violet moans in response to the roaring crowd of bar patrons that clearly expected the show to go on now that power was restored.
“I got it!” Justin exclaims, pushing through the crowd before clambering onto the stage and immediately ripping his shirt off. The audience goes insane at the sight, every phone out and pointed toward the topless queen. He kicks off his shoes next without hesitation.
“Alaska, no! You just chugged half a bottle of whiskey. Fuck, take it easy man.” Adore reaches up to pull him down. Violet extends her arms to bat the other queen’s hands away.
“Aww, come on. He’s had a rough day, let him have a little fun.” She insists. More than part of her really just wanted to watch Justin strip.
He continues his dancing around the stage, camping it up a bit of course- his goofy facial expressions not matching his sexual movements. His pants were next to go; he unbuttons them and lets them sink to the floor, a cellphone he’d long forgotten was in his back pocket slides out to the back of the stage as he kicks his jeans off to the crowd of squealing fans. He drops to his knees and allows a few lucky audience members to rub his naked chest and underwear-clad lower half.
“Ok, that’s enough.” Adore pushes through to the edge of the stage. She had to stop this before it got out of hand. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into and the audience didn’t know what they were taking advantage of.
“C’mon, buddy. Let’s get you into some dry clothes and you can sleep this off in the back, huh?” She nods with a strained smile, reaching up to the half-naked man.
“Oh honey, I’m just getting started!” He croons before wiggling away and getting back to his feet. Without warning, he pulls his underwear down and begins to helicopter his dick with wild abandon. The mob goes nuts, not a camera in the entire venue was failing to record this glorious moment. Violet wraps her arms around Adore’s shoulders and gives her an ecstatic shake.
“Oh. My. God. I can’t tell if this is amazing or horrifying!” She yells over the thunderous cheers and applause from the audience, her mouth hanging wide open as she gaped at the sight before her. The stories about Alaska’s package certainly didn’t do it justice. Adore shakes her head and silently prays that this wouldn’t get back to Michelle.
Fat fucking chance.
~~
“God damn it!” Michelle huffs in aggravation.
“What? What’s going on?” Brian probes, looking back at her through the rearview mirror. She was making him drive while she navigated the car full of queens toward Justin’s location. The rain was hitting the windshield so hard that the wipers struggled to keep up. His vision of the road in front of him was extremely limited.
“My fucking phone died. We’re never going to find him.” She groans, burying her face in her palms. It had taken them nearly an hour to get to this point thanks to the continuously flooding streets and traffic jams. Just exiting the hotel parking garage had proven to be a real challenge.
“Alright, well let’s not panic. We have to be getting close. Let’s just think about which one of these places he could have gone into.” Brian tries his best to calm Michelle as he pulls over to park along the side of the road, straining to make out the names of the buildings lining the strip.
“Useless.” Aaron mutters from the passenger seat. He sat with his arms cross against his chest and had hardly said anything since they left the hotel.
“Instead of being pessimistic, you could try helping us.” Brian fumes, frustrated with Aaron’s demeanor.
“He doesn’t want to be found. He left for a reason and he doesn’t want to see either of us again so I don’t know why we’re wasting our time out here. I should have just booked it back to Pittsburgh instead of joining you on this goose chase… ” Aaron trails off. He’d gone back and forth between wanting to find Justin and wanting to escape. He knew that it wouldn’t matter either way, Justin would still hate him for what he did.
“Don’t pull that bullshit with me, Aaron. I know you still care about him and you owe it to him to show it.” Brian says sternly, locking eyes with the queen next to him.
“Don’t ever accuse me of not caring. Justin was the love of my life. But what’s done is done.” He defends himself. “He only acts like a baby because you two treat him like one. He’s a grown man. He can take care of himself. I say we just stay here and wait for this fucking storm to blow over.” He finishes before tightening his arms across his chest and leaning back in his seat.
“Fuck that.” Brian spits, ripping the keys out of the ignition and throwing them at a silent Michelle in the back seat before exiting the car.
“Katya, no! We need to stick together!” She shouts, reaching out to him. He’s drenched from head to toe in a matter of seconds, turning to respond to the oldest queen.
“I can’t just sit here! I know he’s okay… but I need to find him, for me!” He shouts over the sound of the pouring rain before slamming the door and making his way on foot in the direction they had been driving. As he rounds the corner, he bumps into another wet figure heading the opposite way.
“Oh, sorry man. Wait, Katya?! I can’t believe I’ve met this many Ru girls in one day!” The young man squeals excitedly. Brian sighs in disbelief that he could be recognized even while soaking wet.
Wait. Ru girls?
“What did you say? Something about other Ru girls?” He presses, urging the fan to elaborate.
“Yeah! Adore and Violet had a gig going on at Sparky’s. I was just there but the power went out and I didn’t want to be stranded so I went ahead and left ‘cuz I live so close, you know? Kind of annoyed with myself for leaving. I just got a text from my Judy back at the bar that Alaska showed up and I’ve wanted to meet her since-“ He’s cut off from his rambling as Brian reaches across to grasp his shoulders, his eyes wide with an almost feral quality.
“Where is this bar?” He asks coldly, his eyes boring into the startled twink’s.
“R-right down there, a few blocks.” The boy stutters nervously, pointing over his shoulder.
Brian pushes past him without another word and continues his brisk walk in the direction his new little friend had sent him in. He starts to run as the bar comes into view, its once dark windows now lit up as he neared. The power must have been restored. He pulls open the door without hesitation and is met with a crowd of people stuffed like sardines in the small venue. More enter behind him, excited whispers of “Alaska” on their lips. Even during a tropical storm, the Queen of Snakes drew an impressive audience. The familiar burlesque music of a certain queen fills the air, but Brian is stunned as Justin makes his way onto the stage, quickly ridding himself of his wet t-shirt. He panics slightly and keeps his head down while making his way toward the back of the venue to get better access to the aforementioned queen.
He glances back up as the crowd cheers with joy, only to see Justin’s swinging cock out for the audience to gawk at. He’s filled with anger and dread. Thunderfuck had obviously been hitting the bottle. He scans the room and quickly finds Adore and Violet at the edge of the stage, neither queen making a move to stop what was happening before them. He makes strides to confront them, bumping into one of the bar goers, causing her to spill her drink on herself and the person in front of her.
“Hey, watch where the fuck- Katya?!” She shouts excitedly, successfully garnering the attention of the surrounding audience members.
“Shit! It’s Katya. She’s probably here for Michelle! We need to get him off the stage now- grab his shit!” Adore whisper’s harshly to Violet.
She picks up his discarded pants off the floor as Violet snatches his damp t-shirt from the hands of a fan. The two make their way on stage, Violet pulling Justin aside and wrapping his lower half with his shirt. Adore grabs a microphone off a stand to address the crowd.
“Cut the music! Alright guys, that’s all for tonight. Help yourself to the open bar!” She exclaims, rolling her eyes as the crowd boos in disappointment with the abrupt ending to Alaska’s strip tease. Justin wiggles himself out of Violet’s arms and makes his way over to Adore, shoving her slightly and pulling the microphone from her grip.
“How’s everyone doing tonight?” He slurs with a goofy grin across his face. “The show’s not over till the sun comes up, who’s with me?!” He screams, the crowd roaring in agreement.
“Gimme your drink, would ya? Lasky need’s her juice.” He asks a fan in the front row, who in turn happily hands over her full beer to the naked queen on stage.
Adore reaches over his shoulder as he’s bent over in an attempt to take the microphone back, but the drunk man easily nudges her away with his elbow, nearly knocking her on her ass. It was almost as if whiskey gave Justin superhuman strength. He snaps his head back up and scans the crowd, his eyes locking on Brian who continued to edge his way along the bar toward the stage, brushing off every fan that attempted to come up to him.
“Well, looky-here. It’s our old pal, Katya!” He belches into the microphone, pointing toward the Russian queen. The audience cheers, happily surprised with the appearance of yet another Ru girl. Brian freezes and looks to Justin, pleading with his eyes.
Please don’t say anything stupid.
“Me and Katya fucked, you know? I don’t remember much of it ‘cuz I hit my head.” Justin points with his beer bottle to the soggy bandages hanging haphazardly across his forehead. “But from what I recall, his dick was huuuuuge!” He finishes with a giggle as the crowd reacts with whistles and laughter, many unsure if Alaska was joking or not.
Brian remained frozen in place and gawks toward the stage in disbelief at what the naked queen had just revealed to a crowd of over a hundred people. He’s startled as a heavy hand is laid on his shoulder and whips his head around to come face to face with an infuriated Aaron.
“What the fuck is going on here?” He seethes.
“What- how did you-?” Brian stammers, astonished to see the blonde queen.
“I followed you, duh.” Aaron says, rolling his eyes.
“I thought you were giving up?” Brian asks, shaking Aaron’s hand off his shoulder.
“It’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind.” Aaron replies in his Caitlyn Jenner impression.
“Really? Jokes at a time like this? Help me get to the edge of the stage; we need to get him down since Adore and Violet obviously aren’t having any luck.” Brian grasps the queen’s arm and drags him along the wall.
“Ohohoooo, this just keeps getting better and better! Look everybody! It’s my ghoul-friend, Sharon Needles!” Justin screams into the microphone, calling the audience’s attention to the blonde, who’d until then gone successfully unnoticed. They roar excitedly for the Queen of Halloween.
“Well, ex ghoul-friend. We’ve been apart for four years now, can you believe it?” He sighs sorrowfully, eliciting an “aww” from the crowd at the subtle tone of heartbreak in his voice. “I know, I can’t either. Especially since he had his tongue shoved down my throat last night.” He chuckles before throwing back his beer, draining it impressively in just a few gulps.
Aaron goes rigid, gaping at Justin in total shock. The naked queen’s laughter quickly subsides. He turns his empty beer bottle over in his palm a few times before reeling his arm back and chucking it in Aaron’s direction. Luckily, his aim was off due to his drunkenness and the bottle went crashing into the wall behind his former lover.
"Ok, we’re not doing this shit again!” Aaron yells, finally losing his temper. He wasn’t going to allow himself to be the target of any more projectiles thrown by his infuriated ex.
Without hesitation, he runs full force toward the stage, shoving past the crowd and jumping onto the platform before tackling Justin and pinning him to the floor with his arms and legs. Justin’s microphone rolls out from his palm toward the edge of the stage. The audience gasps in horror as the scene unfolds.
“Get off me!” Justin shouts, struggling to free himself from the weight of his ex.
“No! Not until you promise to shut your mouth and get off the stage- peacefully!” Aaron replies, tightening his grip on the wiggling queen beneath him.
“Why would I do that? I have a lot more to say. I don’t like keeping secrets like you!” Justin spits back angrily, reaching desperately for the microphone just over a foot away. Aaron swings his arm to bat it over the edge.
“Are you fucking crazy!? You’re really starting to piss me off!” Aaron whispers coldly, bringing his face closer to Justin’s, eyes ablaze with fury. He couldn’t believe how far gone he was.
“Oh, am I? Well what are you going to do about it, baby? Hit me? Go ahead, hit me! I know you want to! Just like you did that night- that night when you…” Justin trails off, his eyes brimming with tears as a memory comes flooding back to him.
He laid bleeding across from Aaron on the living room floor. Broken glass littered the carpet, his eyes drifting to the shallow holes in the wall where missed punches had landed. It rarely ever got physical between the two of them, but alcohol had the power to escalate any argument. He grazes his fingertips along his bruised ribs. Aaron had won this round. Though he’d gotten a few good swipes in, the older man had more experience with his fists. He struggles to keep his eyes open, craning his neck to face his lover.
“I can’t do this anymore.” He finally croaks after a prolonged moment of silence. Aaron slowly turns to face him, blood dribbling from his nose onto the dirty carpet.
“Neither can I.” Aaron sighs, silent tears rolling down his cheek has he caressed his bruising knuckles.
“What are you even saying?” Aaron demands, snapping Justin out of the haze of his memory.
“That night you beat the shit out of me!” Justin roars, pulling his knees up to Aaron’s chest and shoving him off with all the strength he could muster.
The two queens pull themselves up on their feet without breaking eye contact. Justin wipes away the tears that rolled uncontrollably down his face. He couldn’t stand it. He was engulfed with rage toward the man standing just inches before him. Without thinking, he swings his fist around to collide with Aaron’s cheekbone, an audible crack reverberating throughout the venue as the crowd looked on in stunned silence before collectively gasping in horror.
The rational part of Aaron told himself to brush it off and walk away.
But the little, weird gay boy inside of him that relied on his fists to survive in rural Iowa wouldn’t take this laying down.
One swing sends Justin flying back to the floor. Suddenly he was on top of him once again, his knuckles colliding with the side of his head. He saw red, unable to control his own movements. Another swing. Another. Justin brings his arms up to protect his face but a good amount of damage was already done.
Suddenly Brian was between the two of them. With strength that seemed impossible for a man his size, he grips Aaron by the shoulders and hurls him to the back of the stage.
“Enough!!” He exclaims. The crowd had broken out in full blown hysterics at this point. Some continued to record the scene on their phones while others looked for any way out that they could find. Adore runs over to Justin and struggles to pull him up off the floor.
“Fuck! Violet, help me!” She screams over her shoulder, snapping the young queen out of her own stunned stupor. She runs over to assist Adore in dragging Justin behind a velvet curtain on the right side of the stage.
Aaron remains on his back at the opposite end of the stage, his palms digging into his eye sockets. Dread washes over him at the realization of what just happened. He wanted nothing more than to be sucked into a black hole at this very moment. There was no going back from this. He mentally cursed himself for his foolishness. He’s broken out of his self-loathing from the sound of vibrations near his head. He frees his eyes from his palms to look over, a cell phone coming into view. He was sure that he’d seen its red case somewhere before, his suspicions confirmed as his eyes narrow in on the hammer and sickle symbol emblazoned on the back. He reaches over to grasp it, turning it over in his palm to view the caller ID before swiping to answer.
“Hey mama.” He croaks into the cell.
“Sharon? You found Alaska!” Michelle’s voice exclaims on the other end of the line.
“What makes you say that?” Aaron inquires, propping himself up against the back wall before pulling out his cigarettes from his pocket. He lights one up, not giving a care about the “No Smoking” sign right above him. The entire bar had gone to shit anyway. He laughs bitterly at the total chaos displayed before him. The crowd had broken into a complete frenzy.
“Well Alaska had Katya’s phone and here you are answering Katya’s phone, so cut the bullshit and tell me where you are.” Michelle replies sternly, nowhere near in the mood to play games.
“I thought your phone was dead.” Aaron says in a pathetic attempt to change the subject. He takes another drag from his cigarette and his eyes drift over across the stage to the gaggle of queens behind the curtain. Adore hovers over Justin and examines the damage done to his face. Violet sits next to him, rubbing his back while Brian stands at his side. Justin’s eyes were pleading with Adore as he said something that Aaron couldn’t quite make out by reading lips.
“It was- until I remembered that I had a car charger. Now tell me where you are before I lose my shit.” Michelle responds, her voice laced with ice.
Aaron continues to gaze at the group of queens. Justin stands and Adore looks to Violet, the two nodding at one another before each giving a glance back to Aaron. The last thing he sees is Brian stepping forward to take Justin’s hand into his own before Violet shifts to stand in his line of vision. He turns his attention back to his unpleasant phone conversation.
“Sparky’s.” He says before dropping the call.
The rain had shockingly slowed to a drizzle and many of the bar patrons took advantage of the suddenly clearer weather to make their escape from the hellish venue. His smoke dangles from his lips as he looks down at the phone in his lap. He swipes the screen once more, relieved that it didn’t have a password. He’s caught off guard when he comes into view of the home screen’s wallpaper.
Katya is sitting on Alaska’s lap. The photo was obviously a few years old considering that the two queens’ styles had evolved since it was taken. Something about it caused a smile to tug at the corner of Aaron’s lips. Maybe it was Alaska’s goofy grin or even how comfortable Katya looked on her lap. He shifts his eyes back across the stage to find Brian standing alone now, his cheeks stained with tears.
No one wins.
A wave of exhaustion washes over his entire body. The past two days had sucked what ever soul he had left clear out of him. He opens Safari and searches the number for LAX. His phone call is brief. It was just his luck that a delayed flight to Pittsburgh had a seat available and would leave in a little over an hour if the weather permitted.
He books the ticket.
He snuffs out his cigarette and pulls himself up to make his way over to Brian, who remained standing alone behind the velvet curtain.
“I’m sorry.” He murmurs hesitantly to the Russian queen.
“For?” Brian asks quietly, not quite meeting the other man’s eyes.
“For ever doubting that you cared about him.” Aaron replies, handing the cellphone back to Brian. He looks down at it in his palm, a single tear falling and splattering on the glass.
“You were right. He doesn’t want anything to do with me.” Brian sighs and bites his lip, his voice shrouded with pain. Aaron leans in to grip his shoulder.
“If I’ve learned anything after this whole situation, it’s that I’m wrong. A lot.” Aaron whispers, looking into his eyes. “Don’t give up… but give it some time. I’m going home now. I suggest you do the same.” He finishes, patting Brian on the back before brushing past him to make his exit.
“Home?” Brian calls after him.
“Yeah. To my fiancé. My heart… Home is where the heart is, you know?” Aaron says over his shoulder. He didn’t care if he was making any sense or not. He was tired and wanted nothing more than to crawl into his own bed and sleep this off the best he could.
Brian stands at the center of the stage, watching as Aaron leaves. He shifts his gaze back to his phone, his eyes fixated on his home screen wallpaper.
How can I go home if my heart doesn’t want me?
~~
"Just tell me what happened, baby. I want to hear it from you.” Michelle coos quietly to Justin. They sat next to each other on the couch in the back lounge of the bar. He was wrapped in an old blanket Violet found in one of the dressing rooms.
Adore had explained for the most part that he’d gotten into a fight with someone at the bar. It wasn’t a total lie. Justin asked her not to mention that it was with Aaron.
The four queens hid behind the heavy curtain as Adore wipes away at the blood pooling around Justin’s nostrils and bottom lip.
“Just say it was some random. Please? I feel so stupid. It’s all my fault. I was pushing his buttons.” Justin pleads to Adore softly. A few punches to the face had really sobered him up. He was beginning to feel more than a little embarrassed of how far he took things.
Adore and Violet look to one another before nodding an agreement. They knew it would get back to Michelle eventually that Aaron was involved, but snitching wasn’t their style. However, Brian felt differently.
“I think you should tell her the truth.” He says, stepping forward to take Justin’s hand into his own. The younger queen lets his hand go limp in his grip before pulling away from him.
“What do you know about telling the truth?” He sneers, pushing past Brian.
“Justin, wait…” Brian follows after him.
“No. You didn’t go after me the first time. Don’t start now.” Justin says over his shoulder. He turns away quickly but doesn’t fail to catch a glimpse of heartbreak behind Brian’s eyes. He instantly regrets his words.
But it was too late.
“It’s just like Adore said. I swear.” Justin murmurs, putting his head to Michelle’s shoulder to keep her from looking into his eyes. She could always tell when he was lying.
“I just want to go home. I know that’s not with Aaron now… but I’m ok with that.” He continues with a whisper.
Michelle was still unsure if it was wise to take Justin back to his house so soon after the accident, but reluctantly agrees. Out of all of her “kids”, she had the hardest time saying no to him.
If home was where he wanted to go, then that’s where she would take him.
~~~
Michelle unlocks the door to Justin’s house before pushing it open, allowing him to enter first. It was a stark change to the crappy one bedroom he remembered owning the first time he’d lived in LA after college. The spacious two story was decorated unlike anything he imagined, but he felt that it suited him perfectly.
“Why don’t you grab a shower while I make you something to eat?” Michelle asks softly, nudging Justin gingerly toward the hall leading to his bedroom. He nods without a word and meanders slowly down the corridor.
His bedroom door was open, but the one across the hall from it was ajar, peeking his attention. He tightens his blanket around his shoulders before pushing it open to take a look inside.
He flips on a light switch, a wall of drawings coming into view first. In front of it was a desk littered but more drawings, papers, and notebooks.
This must be my office.
He steps further into the small space, taking in his surroundings. A glimmer catches the corner of his eye. He turns to find a glass case lining the adjacent wall. Inside was a jewel encrusted crown with an equally flashy scepter along-side it. For the first time since that morning, he smiles widely. His grand win was all so real to him now.
He turns his attention back to his drawings on the wall, many of which he recognized from years ago in his college days. He chuckled, surprised at himself that he was able to keep up with them with how disorganized he tended to be. Most of them were of Alaska of course, in all her Glamazonion glory. But a few were of another queen…
His eyes narrow in on a portrait of non-other than Sharon Needles. Her signature dimpled chin was a dead giveaway. He scanned the wall, surprised that more than a few of his art pieces were of Sharon and Alaska together, the dates at the bottom corners of the page spanning anywhere between 2010 to just a few weeks prior to now.
He shifts his gaze to opposite wall. It was lined with large portraits of queens from seasons passed. The largest photo, aside from his own, was also of Sharon. He leaned in to read the inscription stenciled below it.
“For inspiration.” It read.
He turns to graze over the contents of his desk. He recognizes his journals and various sketch books. A black photo album catches his eye under a stack of documents. He brushes the papers off and opens the book to a random page.
The picture was obviously from Halloween. Alaska was dressed as a cat and Sharon as Lady Dracula. Justin chuckles to himself at how basic his costume was compared to Sharon’s. She’d always be one to go over the top for Halloween while he opted for the minimal. He flips the photo over, a date scribbled in black ink at the bottom corner.
10-31-15 (Brighton, UK Halloween tour)
A tour with Sharon two years after breaking up?
He flips a few more pages. This time the photo was of the two of them in what looked like a meet and greet set up. Sharon had obviously said something to make Alaska cackle, her mouth in a wide open smile and her eyes crinkling at the corners. Sharon always made her laugh harder than anyone else on the planet. He flips it over for a date.
2-17-17 (SOBE Houston)
Just a few months ago…
He closes the book carefully, shaking his head as a smile crept onto his lips.
He and Aaron were friends.
“You doing ok in there?” Michelle hollers from the kitchen, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“Yeah. I’m alright.” He responds, quickly exiting his office and running across the hall to his bedroom. He shuffles into his bathroom and throws his blanket off before peeling his damp bandages off his head and hopping into the shower. The hot water cascades along his body and he allows all of his sorrow and pain from the day to wash down the drain along with the grit and grime.
He steps out and wraps a towel around his waist and goes into the bedroom for a change of clothes. A large black duffle and small purple bag next to it at the foot of his bed grabs his attention. He unzips the larger one first to find his drag pads and other undergarments before tossing it aside and reaching for the second. He shakes out its contents onto the bed, various makeup products and jewelry tumbling out. With a final shake, a black rectangle comes plopping onto the mattress. He picks up the device and taps the screen, cursing mentally as his apparent phone was password protected, but takes a crack at it. He unlocks it on the first try.
Who could forget Cerrone’s birthday?
As expected, a few missed calls and messages from mom and Cory. Another few from his management team and friends. He was happy to see that he still worked and kept in touch with the same people all these years. He scrolls through his conversations before hitting a few that had already been read.
Katya being the most recent.
K: Tonight?
A: When everyone goes out to dinner after rehearsal.
K: What if I’m hungry after rehearsal?
A: Eat me.
K: My favorite meal.
Justin flushes with embarrassment over the corny sexts. He can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face. He scrolls further to read through older messages.
K: What are you doing tonight after the show?
A: Probably just heading back to the hotel and ordering room service. Care to join? :)
K: Absolutely.
“Stop it!” Justin squeals, desperately trying to escape Brian’s fingers. The older queen had been attempting to tickle him throughout the night just to hear his panicked laughter.
“Ok, ok.” Brian chuckles, giving Justin room to breathe.
They’d smoked a blunt and gorged on desserts from the hotel kitchen before settling comfortably beside each other on the bed to watch Golden Girls re-runs. This wasn’t a new occurrence; they’ve hung out in hotel rooms to wind down after a show numerous times before. But something about tonight felt different. It was the first one on one interaction between the two of them since All Stars. Perhaps there was a hint of sexual tension in the air, or at least Brian was imagining so.
He decides to put his theory to the test.
He reaches over to Justin- who flinches and scoots away in response, afraid that he was about to be tickled again.
“No, no. I swear I won’t. Come back.” Brian assures with a laugh, wrapping his arms around Justin’s waste to pull him close, their hips now flush against one another. Justin’s giggles falter and his eyes drift to Brian’s lips, now just inches away.
“This is nice.” Brian whispers hotly, a smirk gracing his features. He brushes his fingers along Justin’s spine, the younger man stifling a shiver from his touch.
“Yeah, it is.” Justin murmurs, leaning in to close the gap between their lips.
The kiss was warm and inviting. There was no sense of urgency behind it. It was passionate, yet gentle and sweet. They could have laid there for eternity just kissing. It was almost as if time stopped for this very moment.
Twenty minutes later they were screwing each other’s brains out.
Justin floats back to the surface from his lustful memory. It was amazing what could be recovered just by reading a few simple texts. He was starting to believe that maybe his relationship with Brian wasn’t purely sexual. There was more to it than he ever imagined. A deeper connection. He taps on Katya’s name in his messages to pull up her contact information.
He remembered having Brian’s cell in his pocket at the bar, but had lost track of it by the time he was on stage.
What are the odds that it made its way back into Brian’s hands?
He carefully shuts and locks his bedroom door and returns to sit on his bed before pressing the call button. It rings endlessly. He pretty much gives up on anyone answering and moves to end the call.
Until suddenly.
“Hello?”
#alaska thunderfuck#katya zamolodchikova#sharon needles#katlaska#angst#tw blood#tw violence#insomnidelic#rpdr fanfiction#heavy rain#canon compliant
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The Rotten life of Pets part 1-6. (You wanna find part 6 you gotta earn it)
The Secret Life of Rotten Pets.
~swirlswift
RATED M FOR MATURE
NOTE: All the animals talk in their animal forms, but it’s only to each other. Once in Human form they can talk to everyone.
~~~~~~~~
It was a peaceful day in Robbies lair. The man had left for the week to go visit his mom two hours ago and had left the pets at home, hoping for more personal time with his beloved mother. The lair was quiet save for the snores of the resident grizzly, settled down for a much needed nap with his beloved teddy bear. The setting was calm, serene, rejuvenati-
“WHO THE BLOODY FUCKIN’ HELL TOOK ME SOCKS?” Ringo screeched from the walls, breaking the silence of the lair. All at once heads jerked up to see where the disruption had come from. “WHERE IS THAT TWAT JUNIOR?”
Junior popped his head up from the top of his cat tree where he had been snuggling up to a specific foxes socks. Across the room Berry began stirring from his nap, agitated and annoyed by such a rude awakening. Chuffing the bear rose to his feet and approached the carpeted cat toy.
“Junior, if you got Ringo’s socks again we’re gonna have a big problem.” The grizzly warned in his deep gruff voice. He could only get so much sleep with all the other pets fussing and carrying on, if those socks were going to be a problem he’d be happy to take care of them permanently. “Just give them back already Junior!”
“Get out of my face Berry.” Junior ordered, standing to full height. He tucked the socks under himself in a neat motion before pushing the bears face away with his paws. “This has absolutely NOTHING to do with you!”
“BORK!” Sportabork was beside the cat now,having teleported there curious about what was taking place with his fellow pets. “BORK BORK BORK?”
”Stop being a dickhead Junior and give me back my damn socks!” Ringo rested his front paws on top of a low platform on the tree and started working his way up. “My paws are cold!”
Awoken by the racket around her Cupcake poked her head out the highest hiding hole of the tree.“Will you guys can it, the princess needs her beauty sleep!” She whined.
“All the sleep in the world won’t make you even the slightest bit pretty, you violet dust pile with legs.” Icy purred, batting her head with a blue paw. He was standing on top of her cubicle, smirking like a criminal as she retreated back into her hole.
“Don’t you two dare start, we have enough to deal with without you two dishing it out!” Berry warned, gently swatting Icy off the tree with his massive paw. The cat didn’t get too far, just to the base of the tree, but he still glowered up at the bear with disdain. The blue cat dashed to the safety of Robbies chair, where he glared at the others.
“You will regret that Bernard, REGRET IT!” The cat hissed angrily.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU LOUSY, GOOD FOR NOTHING PIECE OF BLACK AND BLUE SHIT, THERE ARE MORE IMPORTANT MATTERS AT HAND.” Ringo barked before jumping up and snapping his jaws at Junior. “I WANT MY DAMN SOCKS AND I WANT THEM NOW!”
The structure began to rock as Ringo shifted more and more of his weight on to it. Under the combined weight of Junior, Cupcake, Sportabork, and Ringo the structure collapsed with a loud ‘CLACK’.
In the commotion, as the fallen pets processed what had happened, Junior snatched the socks and ran. “They are mine RINGO, MINE!”
“OVER MY DEAD BODY YOU, GIT!” The fox gave chase, closely followed by Berry and the two other cats. Around the lair the animals ran, trampling; shoving; and nipping until they had Junior cornered under one of Robbies prototype inventions.
The machine was large, at least the size of three Berries. Its design was similar to that of a microscope with a circular computer camera on the end where the lense would be. On the side were three large circles, one red; the middle blue; and the last black. The middle of the microscope-like device was replaced with a large metal sphere with wire protruding out of it, held in place by two large spiraling pieces of metal. At the top of the machine was a large piece of glass suspended over the spheres core by a tube. Trevor, who chose not to meddle in the legged animals affairs, was relaxing on the dangling sphere of it, where it was warm, but unfortunately for him, happened to be near the others scuffle.
“Will you pleaSSSe keep it down, I am trying to SSSleep!” The ball python hissed, lowering his head between the group and Junior. He flipped his tail and started to make his way down when something clicked against him. Trevor ignored it, figuring it was probably a loose piece of metal on the sphere and continued working his way to the ground. “What iSSS all the fighting about?”
“N-Nothing Trevor, please go back to sleep Trevor.” Cupcake whimpered, hiding under Berry. That snake troubled her, leaving her feeling uneasy when he was around.
“Fucking hell this is nothin’ Cupcake!” Ringo jerked his head to face the cowering cat. “Junior stole my fucking socks again and you call it nothin’, YOU COWARD!”
“I’M SORRY!” Cupcake wailed, ducking behind Berrys leg.
“The fuck she is, look at her, still cowering under the big guy!” Junior pointed out accusingly.
“Don’t you try distracting us Junior, you are in enough hot water as it is!” Berry growled. The bear took a step towards him, careful not to tread on the shaking feline under him. “We are tired of you stealin’ Ringos socks!”
Trevor got to the ground and slithered towards the purple cat in the suit, flicking his tongue out as he got closer. “You cauSSSe a lot of problemSSS with thoSSSe SSSocks.”
Suddenly, a loud hum filled the air. The pets froze as they tried to identify where such an odd noise was coming from, had someone turned on the massager and forgotten about it? Only Sportabork looked up at the tip of the machine that was aimed down at them where Trevor had once sat. He didn’t have time to so much as ‘Boof’ before a bright purple tinted light filled the space around them.
The light felt tingly and warm at first, but then came pins and needles, followed by nausea. The group of pets struggled to move, only to find it impossible as the light shined brighter and brighter. They clamped their eyes shut and gritted their teeth until it dimmed, shivering from such a horrifying experience. Someone cried out in agony as their eyes felt a sharp burning sensation.
Junior was the first to open his eyes, and was met with a rather strange sight. Standing before him was a young man with a toddler between his legs. Off to the right, was an older man lying on the ground and rubbing his head. To left of the teen and toddler were two more men, each staring at the other in shock. One teen was eating a jar of peanut butter in the back.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” Screams of terror filled the air as the humans frantically began to push and hit the other humans, confused by what was happening. Only the man lying on the ground remained still as the others fought and rushed to different sections of the lair, trying to recollect their thoughts and figure out what had happened to the fellow pets.
The teen that had had the toddler between his legs was a tall fellow with tanned skin, brown eyes, and dark brown hair. He was wearing a navy tank top, black leggings, and blue knee high boots. There was a scarf long red and green around his neck that ended at his waist. He was muscular, but revealed himself gentle even as he pushed others away from him.
The toddler was mostly covered by a large black jacket with white fur along the hood and cat ears on top, that dragged on the floor as it walked. The hood of the jacket constantly fell in their eyes as they moved, resulting in it falling more times than they could count. When they lifted up their hood their amber eyes flickered for a second before the toddler rushed to find a safe place.
The man lying down was a darker man with green eyes, and a short brown mohawk. He wore a camouflage tank top with cargo shorts and hiking boots. He had many tattoos, different symbols and designs that snaked up his arms to his shoulders before meeting on his back in a diamond pattern. His lips were slightly parted to reveal his forked tongue and fanged teeth.
A short ginger with eyes as green as grass dressed in a light brown jacket and a white dress shirt and tan pants, darted past on his way to the disguise tubes. His hair was short and curly. His glasses bounced on his nose as he moved. He paused only for a moment to pick up the toddler and carry it with him.
A chubby boy, older than the toddler but younger than the muscular teen, was dressed in Robbies clothes and holding a pair of socks in his hands. His hair was purple and styled into a pompadour. He had shoved the toddler down as he ran past, knocking them to their butt. Not stopping, he climbed on top of the refrigerator.
The only other person not running was the teenage boy with his tongue in the peanut butter jar. He wore all blue, from his jacket to his shirt and pants he wore blue. The only exception to the blue outfit were his shoes, which were a dark black. He had bright blue eyes that shined like diamonds and short hair that looked a bit like chicken ramen. The teen was far more invested in his nutty treat than the discord around him.
Above them in the rafters was another man. His eyes were as blue as the tips of his hair, an electric shade that clashed with the dark black of his normal hair color. He wore a black leather jacket and skinny jeans, with black converse. His skin was dark, not as dark as the man on the floor in camouflage, but darker than the one in the scarf. Beard stubble made his face rough to the touch, but he couldn’t stop feeling it.
“What the Hell happened to me?” He demanded, observing the chaos taking place below him. “Who on Earth are you people?”
“I want to ask you lot the same question!” The ginger leaned against a machine with the struggling toddler pressed against his chest. It hadn’t seemed right to leave them out there wandering around such dangerous machinery with those people out there, possibly with ill intentions. “And what have you done with my fellow pets?”
The teen in the blue boots poked his head from behind the work table, “Ringo, Trevor, Icy? Where are you guys?”
“I’m over here,” The tattooed man spoke up, his fangs giving him a lisp. “My head hurtth…”
“I’m over here chum, that is you I hear Berry, right?” The ginger scanned his eyes around the room for the sight of his old friend. “Where are you?”
“Ringo, where are you?” The teen stepped out of his hiding spot and moved to the center of the room.
“Right here, I’m watching a human move around the room.”
“Ringo, I think that human is me, I think we all turned into humans.”
“Well, that explainth why I have armth and legth.” The fanged man sat up and raked his nails up the ink on his arm. He was awed by the sight and feel of them, so unfamiliar to him yet so enthralling. “They feel tho warm and thoft!”
“Rollcall guys and gal, come out when you hear your name.” Berry ordered, helping the peanut butter teen off the floor. “Icy!”
The man jumped down from the rafters, landing neatly on his feet. “Right here.”
“Ringo?”
The ginger stepped out from behind the machine and raised his hand. “Cheerio!”
“Sportabork?”
The teen in all blue jumped up and down excitedly before removing the jar from his face. “Hi guys!”
“Junior?”
“Over here!” The chubby boy called from the fridge.
“Trevor?”
The man still on the floor stood to his feet and raised his hand in recognition. It became obvious how tall Trevor was in his human form, taller than Berry by an entire foot. Intimidated, Berry involuntary took a step away from him and called the final name.
“Cupcake?”
There was a long silence as the female’s name echoed through the lair. The group looked at each other nervously as the proud feline didn’t respond to her name. The toddler babbled incoherently from within its jacket, flailing its tiny arms in the oversized sleeves. Ringo gently lifted up its hood to reveal the small childs face for a brief second. In a flash it had pulled the hood back over its face, chittering angrily as it did.
“Cupcake, is that you love?” Ringo asked. He pulled the hood back again, this time reaching for the zipper to remove the toddlers oversized jacket. “Lets have a peek at you.”
The toddler stopped fussing long enough to look at the group that now gathered around them. The grin on Icy’s face, the concerned expressions on Berry and Ringos, bored expression on Trevor’s face, and the confused Sportabork and Junior. It wasn’t until Berry was holding the toddlers beloved jacket that they began fussing again.
The toddler was a light skinned girl with dark black hair with the very tips being purple, similar to the style of Icy’s. Her cheeks were rosy from the fussing and struggling to get away from Ringo. There was a colorful cupcake necklace around her neck, similar to the one that she used to wear on her collar. She wore a black and white striped shirt with a cartoonish cat skull on it and a purple skirt. Her legs were covered by white tights and her feet by black Mary Janes. A blue bow fashioned around her waist served as a holder for a stuffed black cat with button eyes and mismatched feet.
“Pfft-!” Icy burst out laughing as Ringo set Cupcake down and watched as she tried to retrieve her beloved jacket from Berry. Heads turned to face the blue haired man as he doubled over in laughter. “She turned into a baby!”
“What happened to us?” Junior asked, ignoring the obnoxious laughter of Icy. He gestured to the group with his right hand while picking at a wedgie with his left. “Does anyone remember what happened?”
“I-I remember hearing a loud hum, like master Robbies old massager.” Berry closed his brown eyes as he remembered the wretched feeling that had followed the usually pleasant sound. “Then I saw light, light that shone as bright as the sun.”
“God, it felt like a warm hug for a moment but then it felt like a thousand needles jabbing me at once. I could’ve sworn that I threw up at some point.” Ringo interjected, cutting off the buff teen. “Then when I opened my eyes, I saw you and Cupcake.”
“Ouchies!” The toddler offered, referring to the pins and needles feeling.
“Ouchies indeed, Cupcake.” Ringo agreed, shivering at the memory. He bent down to pick her back up only for his hands to be swatted away. She took refuge in the arms of Trevor, who was more than happy to hold the small child.
“When I wath getting off that machine I could have thworn I heard thome thort of click.” Trevor admitted, pointing to the circular part of the device where he had once been laying. It now dangled by a single copper wire as thick as a pencil, gently rocking back and forth.
“It’s quite possible that yeh activated it, and there might be a way to reverse the effects and return us back to our normal loveable state before master Robbie returns.” Ringo said quickly as he walked over to the broken contraption. He inspected it for a few moments before shaking his head and facing to the group, “Maybe Peepo knows what to do, does anyone know his number?”
“The only one that ever bothered to memorize the contact book was Cupcake, and she’s not exactly in the state to recite it.” Junior pointed out, referring to the girl now in Trevor’s arms licking one of his tattoos. “And a proper SOMEONE had to send the contact book to Hell!”
“Now lets not be rash here Juney bloom, I didn’t mean to send the book itself to Hell.” Sportabork argued, setting his beloved jar to the side. “Just the phone to make it stop ringing.”
“But you missed!”
“Irrelavent!”
“What about Peepos sidekick, what was her name, Swift?” Ringo looked at Icy, who was now sitting in Robbies chair. “Do you know her number?”
“Do I look like the kind of guy that memorizes contact books?” Icy replied. “Even if I had what could she do?’
“Lose the attitude!” Ringo ordered. “You were a gift from her, we just thought you had some information about her!”
“I only knew her for a few days before she gave me to Robbie.”
“Well then ladth, loo-”
“AAA!” Cupcake interrupted as she used her small hand to smack his left cheek.
“And lady,” Trevor corrected himself, looking down at her for approval before continuing. “Lookth we’ll be taking care of ourthelveth for the next few dayth.”
“We’re going to need to make a plan, I highly doubt Master Robbie would like to return from his trip and have a lair full of humans.” Ringo held the jar that Sportabork had been eating from. “Now our first priority should be securing a decent diet, we can’t eat our pet food anymore and we can’t live on simply junk food.”
“N-Not even peanut butter?” Sportabork looked horrified at the thought of not having his favorite treat.
“No Sportabork, you may still have your peanut butter.” Ringo returned the jar to the blue clad teen, who gave it a tight hug. “But you must eat it in moderation, no more eating entire jars.”
“Moderation, where on Earth is that?” The teen held up the peanut butter. “Can we go there now, I want to finish off this jar by tonight!”
“It’s not a where it’s a what, it means don’t over do something like eat too much peanut butter, or use an entire roll of toilet paper to wipe yeh bum.” The ginger explained.
“Ringo, we’re altho going to need diaperth.”
“Please tell me she didn’t.”
“Not yet, but we’ll need them thoon.”
“I’ll get started on a list, Berry can you see what sort of food Master Robbie has in the cabinets?” Ringo went to the kitchen space and pulled a notepad out a drawer. “Icy, I need you to see what we do have in the fridge.”
“I can already tell you it’s nothing too healthy.” Icy warned, making his way to the fridge.
“I know, but could you please go check and see what we do have?”
“What can I do, I wanna help!” Junior exclaimed, tugging at Ringos coat. The young man chuckled and ruffled the boys hair before gesturing to Cupcake in Trevor’s arms. “It would be a big help if you kept an eye on Lil’ Cakesie over there, because I need Trevor and Sportabork to see if they can’t find any money lying around here, can you do that for me?”
“Yeah, I can do that, I’ll be the best watcher in the whole world!” Junior rushed to grab Cupcake from Trevor and took her to the bed where she had slept during her time as a feline.
Ringo took a seat in the kitchen area and began writing down the essentials they’d need to make it through the week. Every now and again he’d look over at the two children playing with cat toys, or take a side glance at Berry and Icy rummaging through the kitchen cabinets and fridge. Trevor and Sportabork came in every now and again to deposit spare change and crinkled up bills in front of the notepad. Nowhere near enough to cover even half of the expenses on the list.
“We got a few apples, half a thing of milk, some leftover cake, an old looking porkchop, and…a pineapple?” The blue-haired man reported from the fridge. He held up the large spiky fruit and tossed it around in his hands a few times before nearly dropping it at the sight now standing before him.
There was a little frog puppet floating inches from his face, and in its hands was a large sum of cash. In a quick motion the puppet flung the money at Ringo, knocking him out of his chair before running over to the kids. The frog snatched the cupcake shaped cat toy from the toddler and ran away, leaving her with a stack of money. For his final act the green puppet raced to Icy, headbutted him in the crotch, and stole his precious pineapple. As the man fell to the floor holding himself, the frog rose to the lairs roof with all eyes on it as it spread its arms and smiled up to the sky before disappearing in a puff of green smoke.
“Good Heavens, Icy are you alright?” Ringo got up and moved over to the fallen Icy. “On a scale of one to ten what are you?”
“Look wise I’m a thousand baby, but pain wise it’s a million….” Icy whimpered, raising his head to look at the ginger. “Kiss it better for me?”
Annoyed, Ringo pushed the leather clad mans head down and stood back up. “He’s alright everyone, just a bit hurt otherwise unscathed.” He dusted himself off and went to take the money that had been given to Cupcake. It took a valiant effort to take the bills from the toddler’s death grip tight but once he did he quickly distracted her with a ball. “I do hope this money was obtained, legally.”
“Thereth gotta be at leatht a thouthand dollarth over here!” Trevor exclaimed, picking up some of the money that had gotten thrown. “Who wath that guy?”
“He comes by when Robbies here, I think he’s connected to that pineapple or something.” Berry shrugged, reaching down and pulling Icy to his feet. “I guess it doesn’t really matter what we have now let’s just take a stack of bills and go to the store, Ringo you done with that list?”
“Yeah we need diapers, vegetables, fruits, oatmeal.” Ringo paused to wipe a drop of grape juice off the page, only for three more to take its place. “Bloody He-” He looked up to find the puppet above him, throwing up grape juice onto his list. “BLOODY HELL YOU PRICK!”
The puppet disappeared once again, just as Berry swung down the broom hitting Ringo on top of the head. Both men looked at one another for a long second before Berry backed away with his hands up, dropping the broom and retreating to near the chair.
“Someone grab the kids, we’re going without the list.” Ringo ordered, rubbing his head.
“Can we handle not having a list Ringo?” Berry went to the children and picked them each up in one arm. Junior gladfully wrapped his arms around Berries neck and blew a raspberry in his face. Cupcake was more interested in the teens scarf, which she began tugging and pulling on.
“We only get the necessities.” Ringo reached into the drawer where he had gotten the notepad and pulled out a key. “Now, we mustn’t use some of the wilder names among us.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Asked Sportabork, wiping his face with his sleeve.
“We can’t use names like Sportabork, Cupcake, or Icy.” Ringo explained. “I’m not sure whether or not names like Berry or Ringo will pass either, so we’re going to need different names.”
“Can I be Ringo?” Sportabork asked excitedly. Before the ginger could answer Sportabork was already talking in a fake british accent, “Pip pip, Let’s get to it then, I like tea!”
“I do not sound like that, and no you may not be Ringo!” The real Ringo snapped, pushing the teen away. He pressed a palm to his chest, “In public call me Go.”
“In public I’ll call you baby, sweetcheeks~” Icy purred, putting an arm around the shorter man. He was met with an elbow in his gut, which caused him to double over holding his stomach. “ACK!”
“Bugger off!” Ringo barked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Can I be Skipper?” Sportabork asked, resting his hands on the blue haired mans back and leaning on him until both nearly collapsed. “I wanna be Skipper!”
“I’ll keep Berry, I mean, most of those kids have weird names out there.”
“Icy, pick out a name and if it’s stupid I’ll pick one out for you.” Ringo turned his attention to the man in question. “You get one chance.”
“Azul, it’s spanish for blue.” Icy stood upright, knocking the teen off his back.
“Fine, and Cupcake will be Alice.” Ringo said firmly. The girl began to fuss in Berries arms, flailing her arms and kicking her tiny legs. “Here, let me have her Berry.” He graciously took the toddler and slipped her in his coat, holding her in his right arm inside the coat. At once Cupcake stopped and stared at Ringo with wide eyes. He couldn’t help but smile down at her as she stuck her thumb in her mouth and rested her head against his chest. “Pip pip, lets get to it now!”
Sportabork snickered to himself as the gingers face turned a bright red. “OH BUGGER OFF SPORTABORK!”
“Bugger off!” Junior chirped from Berrys arm, throwing his fist in the air.
“No, don’t say that Junior, it’s a bad word.” Ringo covered the boy’s mouth as the group made their way to the lair’s entrance. “Best behavior all around.”
It was sunny outside, but that didn’t necessarily mean it was warm. The sounds of children playing in the distance could be heard the second the group left the lair, much to the displeasure of Ringo. Based off everything he’d heard from his beloved Master Robbie he knew those children were nosy, and at least one had a penchant for theft. Taking a deep breath the young adult held the child in his arm close and began walking down the street to the crosswalk.
Ziggy had been on his way to the park when he noticed a crowd of unfamiliar people walking on the opposite side of the street. Were they new in town, tourists perhaps? Either way he wanted to tell Stephanie immediately, maybe she would give them candy and they wouldn’t want it! His mouth practically watered at the thought as he took off running to the park, shouting Stephanies name.
“That little twerp iSSS SSSummoning hiSSS evil preadoleSSSCent army of bratSSS!” Trevor hissed, starting across the street to chase him, a fist raised and at the ready. Ringo grabbed him by the shoulder and stopped him. “No No Trevor, we must be civilized and tell them we are in much too big of a hurry to stay for a gab. There is no need for violence.”
“I don’t want to talk to any of them, eSSSpecially that girl SSStephanie!” Trevor hissed back, returning to the group. “LaSSSt time I SSSaw her SSShe put a bow on my head!”
“It could be worse I suppose, we could deal with that MINE MINE MINE kid.” Icy interjected, slipping his hands in his pockets. “Just be cool, like me.” He tripped over a fire hydrant.
“Yeah, like you.” Ringo taunted, crossing straight across the street towards the shopping district. “Here they come, be polite!”
“SSScrew that I’m running!” and with that Trevor was already running ahead of the gang, not even caring that they were yelling for him to come back. “I’LL MEET YOU AT THE SSSTORE!”
The gang of kids watched as the dark skinned man with the brown mohawk took off running. Maybe he was shy or late to something, but not one of them thought that there was some sort of hatred and fear rooted within his speedy departure. Stephanie, with her bubbly smile and skip-walk was the first to approach the group.
“Hi, I’m Stephanie!” She chirped, beaming at them excitedly. “Are you new to Lazytown?”
“Ello Stephanie, I’m Go.” Ringo offered her his free hand, but didn’t return the smile. “Well, er, yes we’re new to Lazytown, but we are having a grand time finding our way around.”
“I’m Junior!” Junior chimed in, waving from Berries arms. Stephanie frowned at the outfit he was wearing, it looked a lot like Robbie’s, only smaller.
“Are you guys related to Robbie?” She asked, pointing to Junior.
“No, he just…er…he just…” His mind hit a bump, unable to think of a selling lie.
“What he means to say,” Icy stepped forward, “Is that Junior had an accident and Mr. Rotten was kind enough to lend him a spare suit, darling. My name is Azul, it is quite lovely to meet you Miss Stephanie~”
Ringo stood there shocked, his green orbs focused on the side of Icy’s head. He knew the cat was sleazy, but the speed at which he could make up lies amazed him. Stephanie seemed to buy it, and as the rest of the kids gathered around they all greeted the group and said their names.
“I’m Pixel, I like video games!”
“My names Ziggy and I like Superheroes!”
“My names Trixie, I LOVE soccer!”
“My names Stingy and I like my car.”
“This is Berry, Skippy, and the man that ran ahead was Trevor.” Ringo pointed to the guys as he said their names. He opened his coat to reveal Cupcake. “And this little poppet is Alice.”
At the sound of her new name the toddler turned around and took a swat at Stingy’s face. “Buggah oof, BUGGAH OOF!”
Ringo reclosed his coat, “I’m so sorry, she hasn’t taken her nap today and it’s late…”
“Mister Go it’s noon, it isn’t late at all!” Trixie informed him.
“Well is that so, then no wonder she’s fussy she hasn’t eaten her lunch!” Ringo exclaimed, hoping the kids would take the hint.
“Mister Go, Alice can have some of my candy.” Ziggy offered a handful of sweets, some of them unwrapped and covered in lint.
“She can’t eat candy, she’s much too young Ziggy, but I appreciate your offer. Now, we simply MUST get going!” Ringo bid them farewell before watching the kids run back towards the park talking and squealing. “Now that wasn’t to hard now was it?”
“That Ziggy kid got my hand all sticky and I didn’t even touch the kid.” Icy observed, opening and shutting his hand a few times.
“I didn’t like how Stingy stared at me, it gave me the heebie-jeebies.” Berry admitted, shivering.
“Yeah, I couldn’t stand them either.” Ringo turned and continued walking down the street soon followed by the others. “Now, which way did Trevor go?”
Trevor was standing outside Lazymart with his back to the doors. A group of girls stood nearby giggling and talking among themselves, some facing away from the group and turning to look at the man nearby. By the time Ringo and the group approached him, a few girls had broken away from their gaggle and rushed into the store.
“Trevor, how dare you leave us behind like that!” Ringo scolded, smacking him upside the head. The action jostled the girl in his coat and she poked her head out the top. “What if yeh had gotten lost?”
Trevor didn’t reply and allowed the ginger to drag him into Lazymart by his arm. “Now, two people to a group.” Ringo pointed to Berry and Trevor, “You two go find some vegetables and fruits.”
“You got it Go!” Berry grabbed a basket and took off to find the produce section with Trevor.
“Skipper, you and Icy go-” He was cut off by the insistent tugging on his coat.
“I wanna go with Skipper!” Junior whined as he stomped his foot on the ground.
Not wanting to cause a scene Ringo quickly gave in, instructing the two to find the oatmeal. He handed them a basket and watched as they disappeared down aisle three. Now Ringo walked to the shopping carts and took the toddler out his coat. He buckled her into the carts seat and kissed her forehead before looking at Icy, “We need to find diapers.”
“You go do that, I’ll try to do something about the sleeping arrangements.” Icy stated, watching as the ginger pulled the buggy from the small lane and directed it to the section marked baby. Midstep Ringo stopped and shook his head, “What’s wrong with the current sleeping situation?”
“Well for one we’re human, we shouldn’t sleep on the floor and we all can’t fit on the chair. I just want to see if they have air mattresses or something.” Icy explained, looking at the listings above each aisle. “Or at least blankets.”
“Fine, but don’t leave without us.” Ringo continued walking.
“I wouldn’t leave without you, Sweetcheeks!” Icy called after him, chuckling as he walked towards aisle ten.
Cupcake liked riding in the cart better than she liked riding in Ringo’s jacket, she was able to see a lot more out here. For one, she could see Ringo’s face and her reflection his the lenses of his glasses. When he caught her staring he used a hand to rub her cheek. It was soft and smelled of vanilla and mint, unable to resist the toddler buried her face in his palm. She grinned as they passed a particularly bright colored display, reaching for it then stopping as something else caught her attention.
Ringo was looking at the diapers when he saw something approaching from his right. He turned his head to see one of the girls from earlier approaching him. She was a bit taller than him and had eyes the color of chocolate. She wore a mint colored dress that stopped at her knees and white high heels. She also had a white purse in the shape of a bunny, which the toddler was desperately reaching for.
“Hi, is this like, your baby?” She batted her long eyelashes at him and ran a hand through her straight brown hair. “What’s it’s name?”
“Uh, yes her name is Alice.” He replied, pulling the child up and using an arm to prevent her from grabbing at the bunny bag again.
“That’s my name as well, but you can call me Ally~” She twirled a lock of hair around a long manicured finger. Ringo couldn’t help but notice that her nails matched her dress. “What’s your name?”
“Go.”
“Well Go,” She leaned in close. “I haven’t seen you around here before, are you new?”
“Yes actually, er, we j-just got in today.”
“I like your accent, where are you from?”
“…Eggland, ENGLAND!” He corrected himself quickly, finding himself flustered as he caught whiff of her cinnamon gum. “Can you please get yourself out of my personal space?”
In a flash the toddler had her hand on the purse and gave it a sharp pull, trying to secure her white prize. The sudden jerk caused the girl to nearly fall as she lost balance on her heels, but Ringo caught her and helped pull her to her feet.
“I am so sorry about that.” He apologized in a breath. He turned back to Cupcake and pointed a finger in her face. “That was very, very naughty young lady and you should be ashamed of yourself!”
“Ahhh!” The toddler responded, nipping at his finger. She missed and he flicked her nose, not hurting her but causing her to start to fuss. Ringo sighed and gave her the handkerchief to keep her preoccupied.
“It’s alright, I should have stood farther back.” Alice insisted, holding his arm. “So, do you have any like, plans tonight?”
“Well, Um-”
“Yeah actually, he does have plans with me.” Out of nowhere was Icy, wrapping an arm around Ringo’s shoulders. “Don’t we sweetums?”
Shocked Ringo let out a wheeze before breathlessly replying, “Y-Yes.”
“And just who are you?” Alice demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I senorita, am Azul, and Go here is my boyfriend.” He grinned, kissing the top of the younger mans head. “Isn’t that right baby?”
“….Yes….he is my….boy…friend…”
“UGH, why are all the cute ones GAY?” She whined, stomping down the aisle.
Ringo waited until she was out of earshot before whirling around and shoving Icy away. “What the Hell was that you absolute prick?” He hissed through clenched teeth. He put his hands over Cupcakes ears. “I’m not your fucking boyfriend and you damn well know that.”
Icy stumbled back at the rough contact, a frown on his face. “Dude, that girl was hitting on you and you needed an easy way out of it. YOU SHOULD BE THANKING ME.”
“For what, thank you for calling me your boyfriend when I’m not?” The ginger demanded, grabbing a package of diapers off the shelf. “You had no right to do what you did!”
Icy stood there in silence, allowing himself to be yelled at without a fight. “..I’m sorry…”
Ringo was shocked. Icy apologizing when he could gain nothing in return, that was new? Both remained quiet, silently staring at the other waiting for them to speak. Somewhere in the store glass broke, and a voice over the intercom alerted staff. They stayed that way, staring in silence until Cupcake began fussing once again. She flung the cloth she had been given on the floor and began kicking her legs furiously.
Ringo pulled her out the cart and put her on his shoulders. As he bent down to pick his handkerchief off the floor he took the time to change the topic, “So, what did you find out about the air mattresses?”
“Huh, oh yeah, they have them in king; queen; and twin size.” Icy explained, putting his hands in his pockets. “We could also use inflatable pools, which I would recommend for pipsqueak here.”
‘Pipsqueak’ was currently drooling in Ringoes hair. He let out a loud breath but didn’t dare remove her in fear of upsetting her. “Can you do me a favor and get two queen mattresses and the largest inflatable they have?” He asked, putting a thing of pacifiers in the cart, which was soon followed by three jars of baby food. “I’m going to go check on Junior and Sportabork, I could have sworn I heard glass breaking.”
“You got it dude.” Icy turned and headed towards the aisle he had come from.”
“Icy wait!”
“Y-eah?” He stopped and looked back.
“D-Don’t forget the cart, you’re gonna need it,” Ringo pushed the cart towards him. “S-so you don’t have to carry all that around.”
“Oh thanks!” Icy pulled it towards him then began pushing it towards the bedding.
In produce, Trevor and Berry were doing quite well selecting a variety of fruits and vegetables. They had filled two hand baskets and were now working on filling a third when a girl approached them. Trevor, the introvert, had quickly taken shelter behind a cucumber display covered in bright colors. He watched as Berry and the girl talked about something then she left, making her way to the checkout lines.
“What did Blondie want?” He asked, stepping beside the scarfed teen.
“Just asking about my scarf, she liked the colors and wanted to know if I made it myself.” Berry replied, lifting the end of his red and green accessory. “She was nice.”
“Yeah, thure the wath, now leth go find Ringo cauthe I wanna go.” Trevor mumbled. He was tired and this was enough social interaction for the day. Sure he hadn’t spoken to anyone except a few words to Berry, but it had left him feeling exhausted.
~~~~ part 6 here ~~~~
“Well, it looks like we have enough, can you carry that basket and I get these ones?” Berry asked picking up the filled baskets. “He didn’t exactly give us a designated meeting point so we can wander around for a bit.”
“I bet Thportabork broke glaSSS.” Trevor picked up the remaining basket and followed after the muscular teen. He couldn’t help but notice the buns Berry was thoroughly rocking, so perfect and round. He was unable to look away from them and after a few moments of walking he spoke up. “Hey Berry.”
“Yes Trevor?”
“Don’t know when we got the rollSSS but can we put them in my baSSSket becauSSSe they look like they’ll fall out of yourSSS and get ruined.”
“Oh yeah, I got them from the rack near the bakery when we were collecting the potatoes.” Berry turned around and dropped the bread into Trevor’s basket. “Good thinking man.”
“Of course it iSSS, I’m a fricking geniuSSS.”
Meanwhile, in the cereal aisle there was a heated discussion going on between Sportabork and Junior, which the latter seemed to be losing.
“Skipper we shouldn’t just get dinosaur egg oatmeal, Ringo’s boring and he’ll want a boring flavor of oatmeal, like plain or cheese and bacon.” Junior sighed, holding up a box of grits. In the older teens hand was a basket overflowing with Dinosaur oatmeal. It was obvious that Sportabork could not be trusted without proper adult supervision.
“Oh hush Junie-Bloomy, even Ringo can’t resist the brilliance of this amazing science!” Sportabork used his free hand to take one of the oatmeals out. “It makes the dinosaurs when you put hot water in it, how cool is that? I could have my own pterodactyl!”
“OBVIOUSLY, you haven’t seen Jurassic Park because that can go horribly wrong in so many ways.” Junior rolled his eyes and looked to the figure walking down the aisle. A wave of relief passed through the child as he saw the familiar face of Ringo approaching them. “Go, so glad you’re here!” The young boy pointed a finger at Sportabork. “He has like a hundred boxes of dinosaur egg oatmeal in the basket, tell him to knock it off.”
“Wrong!” The teen exclaimed, holding the basket in front of him. “There are exactly twenty-seven boxes in here!”
“Skipper, we do not need twenty-seven boxes of oatmeal!” The ginger huffed. “We’ll probably only be like this for a week tops. You may get one box of the dinosaur oatmeal, but I’d prefer if you got the fruit of cream variety pack here.”
“I’d prefer it if you’d stop judging my life choices and let me have the damn oatmeal.” The blonde grumbled. He did put twenty-six boxes back and grab a variety pack of oatmeal, all while angrily glaring at Ringo. “This is highly unfair.”
“Well fine then, since I’m so unfair you can’t get anymore peanut butter.” The ginger said plainly. Ignoring the dismayed look on Sportaborks face, Ringo picked up the basket of two items and walked past them. “Now, we must find Berry and Trevor, and wait for Azul to come back with the shopping cart.”
“N-No peanut butter?”
“You should have had better control of your mouth.”
“Alice is drooling!” Junior chimed in, pointing at the toddler.
“I am well aware Junior, but thank you for telling me.” Ringo pulled his handkerchief out his pocket and began wiping loose saliva from his forehead. He reached up and took her off of his shoulders and began wiping at her face as well, much to her objection. “Calm down!”
“Yeah, yelling for her to calm down will TOTALLY work.” The teen criticized as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“This is why you aren’t getting anymore peanut butter!”
“FORGET YOU, I’D SAY I WAS GOING TO HELL BUT I AM ALREADY THERE!” Sportabork shouted. He snapped his fingers and in a puff of red smoke he had disappeared. The smell of sulfur hit Ringos nose causing him to gag, without thinking he grabbed Juniors hand and rushed him out the aisle.
“Dude, what happened?” In a flash Icy appeared with the buggy, now containing two queen sized air mattresses and a box advertising a large inflatable pool. “Why does it smell like rotting eggs?”
“Skipper had a tantrum and went to Hell I guess.” Ringo shook his head. “Have you seen Berry and Trevor, I am quite ready to leave.”
“I think I see them standing near a ball bin, unless there are more than one muscular teen in a long as scarf and mohawked guy in ugly shorts.” Icy smirked. “They couldn’t be anymore different, but opposites attract I guess.”
“Oh hush it, I still haven’t forgiven you for that boyfriend bit by the way, so don’t try to get all chummy on me.” The ginger snarled accusingly.
“OH MY GOSH, SO HE ISN’T YOUR BOYFRIEND?” An unholy shriek came from around the corner, clack-clack-clacking in her heels as Alice reappeared with her phone in hand. “I knew it, all the cute ones try to hide!”
“Dammit.” Ringo whimpered to himself, pulling Junior to the side of the cart. “Ally, was it?”
“That’s right, Gingy~”
“I am NOT interested in you, please leave me alone!”
“Well good thing I’m not interested in you either,” She stepped towards Icy and grabbed hold of the collar of his unzipped leather jacket. Pulling him down to her height she leaned in close to his mouth, giving him a big whiff of the spicy gum she was chewing. “Azul is SOOOOO much hotter.”
Ringo’s face turned bright red, almost as red as his hair. Why was his mouth so dry and his body shaking, why was he clenching his jaw? He had no feelings for that sleazy scumbag or Icy, so why was his heart racing so fast? Was it hot in here or was it just him, either way he felt something wet rolling down his forehead, perhaps even stray drool left by the toddler he was setting on the floor.
For probably the first time in his life Icy froze, unsure of how to respond and react to the girls pushiness. His heart pounded in his chest as she came in closer and closer, her mouth almost touching his. Well Ringo surely didn’t want him, and she was kind of cute. The blue haired man puckered up his lips and closed his eyes.
The lips that met his soft, it was like he was kissing a marshmallow. He started to push away only for a hand to work its way in the back of his head and keep him there for an extra second. God, was kissing girls always this grand? He’d have to do it more often. Her lips tasted like vanilla, a taste Icy was going to love forever.
“EEK! GET OFF OF ME YOU LITTLE FUCKING URCHIN!” A shriek cut through the moment and Icy’s eyes shot open as the kiss broke. He was shocked to see the grass green eyes of Ringo staring back at him. “SOMEONE GET THIS GREMLIN OFF OF ME!”
Ringo didn’t say a word as he rushed to get the squirming toddler off of the fallen Alice. He didn’t know what had come over him, he just plowed down Alice and took the kiss that was rightfully meant for her. Now, as he desperately tried to pry the small hands off the strap of her bunny purse he felt rather silly. He didn’t like Icy, did he?
Icy was rendered speechless, standing there frozen as he stared hopelessly at the fighting between the toddler and the young man he had just kissed. He didn’t even notice when Berry and Trevor ran past trying to help Ringo now get both the toddler and the chubby Junior off of Alice. It wasn’t until someone shoved the screeching toddler in his arms that he snapped back to reality.
“Ummm….” He held her at arm’s length, staring into her amber eyes. “Uhhhhh….”
“YOU AND YOUR UGLY GREMLINS ATTACKED ME!” Berry helped the still screeching Alice to her feet, his face bright red from an accidental glance of her upper thighs when Ringo had pried Cupcake off of her. “I AM TELLING MY DADDY ABOUT THIS AND WE WILL SUE!”
“And we’ll tell him how you stalked my boyfriend around the store and then viciously tried to assault me with your cinnamon scented lips.” Icy found his voice and pushed his way in front of her. “Now get your face spray tanned self out of here before you find out what this toddler here is capable of.”
On cue Cupcake lunged for her purse, missing and nearly falling out of Icy’s arms. Taking the hint, Alice ran out the door screaming. It was only then that it became obvious people were staring, and the group quickly got into the checkout line with their heads down. Ringo took Cupcake back and pretended to be tending to a fake injury she had gotten during Alice’s attempts to get her off.
There were butterflies in his stomach the ginger side glanced at Icy, who was looking at magazines. It had felt amazing kissing him, but he didn’t like him. Icy was a jerk, a liar, a bully! Ringo sighed and licked his lips, narrowly having time to put it back in his mouth before the toddler in his arms had grabbed it.
The cashier was a man with green hair and black eyes. He was wearing an all green suit, from his tuxedo to his dress pants it was green. He had no name tag and he just took the stack of cash from Ringo and waved them through without bothering to check any of it. As they left he took a sip of Lipton tea, who they were and the events that had taken place in aisle three was none of his business, was it?
// oml that creepy ass ending X’D well done once again, mon ami!
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