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just-jessie0 · 1 year ago

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Pip of a Raptor - The Death of the American Dream (Chapter 8)

The trio established a routine that they maintained throughout the remaining weeks of the summer. Every Friday, they would gather at Alfie’s to play video games and watch movies before Linda made homemade pizza for dinner. After a couple of weeks, Heather found her way into the kitchen, joining Linda in making the dough and putting together the pies while the boys played Smash in the living room. Heather couldn’t fathom how the boys never tired of the game; it was the same thing over and over again, yet they could play for hours. Occasionally, she would assist Linda in making cookies or other treats.

Initially, Linda resisted Heather’s help, thinking the girl felt obligated due to the considerable time spent at Alfie’s house. Linda once mentioned this to Heather early on, urging her to return to the living room with the boys. However, upon seeing Heather’s distressed expression, Linda swiftly realized that Heather’s desire to contribute ran deeper than mere politeness, though Linda never questioned Heather about it, and Heather never bothered to share.

On days other than Friday—and Mondays, given Linda’s diligence in ensuring Alfie stuck to his promise regarding summer school studies—the three would gather in the woods by the teepee. After a couple of days, they dismantled Heather’s original construction, and together they built a larger and far more impressive one. It took days and many arguments between the three on the best approach, but eventually, a teepee with a 15-foot diameter and almost 20 feet in height replaced Heather’s.

The old dog beds that lined the ground were replaced with air mattresses and sleeping bags—courtesy of Andrew—and Linda sewed plastic linings onto the old bed sheets for them to use as a cover so that even in the rain, the three would remain comfortable and dry. After insistence on Alfie’s part, Heather pinned up her drawings in the newer teepee model, though they now covered only a small fraction of the massive interior rather than the entire space.

Sometimes, they would play in the woods by the teepee, creating games that resembled an amalgamation of hide-and-seek, tag, and dodgeball. On other occasions, Alfie and Andrew would bring their paintball gear, along with Andrew’s extra gun, to shoot around Mr. Brown’s pond. Approximately once every other week, Alfie and Jon would take their bikes to pick up Heather, who typically rode on Alfie’s handlebars, and they would head down the 10 miles of Old Beth to the lake where they would spend the day playing in the tiny waterfall or catching crayfish.

Many times over the summer, Alfie suggested to Jon and Heather that they go to Jon’s house and swim in the pool, but neither Jon nor Heather seemed too thrilled by that idea. No one asked to go over to Heather’s house.

Every once in a while, Heather wouldn’t appear at the teepee. Jon and Alfie would wait for a couple of hours after their agreed-upon meeting time, but there would be no sign of Heather, and the two would return to Jon’s or Alfie’s house to decide on their plans for the rest of the day.

As the weeks passed, her initially guarded demeanor gave way, revealing an energetic, resourceful, and sometimes bossy personality. However, when Heather would reappear the following day after not showing up, her mood would undergo a complete transformation, reverting into her guarded shell. She stayed silent and kept mostly to herself, even when Alfie would try to coax her into joining whatever he and Jon had planned. No matter how many times Alfie or Jon asked what was wrong, she would only respond with a snide comment and a glare, telling them to mind their own business.

Her attitude towards Jon would also change after her return. Both Alfie and Jon still noticed her frequent glances in his direction, but her initial intensity appeared to shift to a more curious observation, much to Jon’s relief. However, upon her return, Heather’s early disdain and contempt became palpable once again, intensifying tenfold, catching both Alfie and Jon by surprise. Jon typically responded in kind with his own attitude, and it would take Alfie a couple of days acting as the mediator between the two until peace was reestablished within their little trio.

In early August, Heather didn’t show up for three days. The first day, they dismissed it as her usual disappearance. The second day, confusion set in. By the third day, concern took hold.

Alfie paced back and forth in the teepee between air mattresses, the drawings pinned on the fabric fluttering each time he disturbed the air around them. “We should go to her house and see if she’s alright,” he said. “She’s never been gone this long before.”

Jon sat, leaning up against the wall, his legs extended in front of him. “Alfie, she’s fine. Maybe she just forgot to tell us that she and her dad were going away or something.” Despite his cool tone, Jon’s brows scrunched in concern, as if he were trying to convince himself as much as Alfie that everything was okay.

Alfie sat down beside Jon, and they fell into a moment of silence, both lost in thought.

“It’s probably fine,” Jon whispered so low that Alfie almost didn’t catch it. Jon cleared his throat and continued, this time louder, “and I don’t think her dad will like us showing up uninvited.”

“Something doesn’t feel right, Jon,” Alfie said.

Jon didn’t respond. Another moment of silence passed before Jon turned to Alfie.

“If she doesn’t show tomorrow, we go and check the house,” he said, squaring his shoulders.

Alfie nodded in approval of the plan.

Both Alfie and Jon were tense on their walk to the teepee the following day, fearing that once again, Heather would be a no-show. To their surprise—and delight—a tiny figure in a maroon sweatshirt was sitting at the entrance of the teepee, head bowed, scratching at the dirt in front of her with a stick. Alfie stopped mid-stride and blew out an audible sigh of relief. Jon’s shoulders dropped, and the tension he didn’t even notice himself carrying eased.

“Heather!” Alfie bellowed. Heather’s head whipped up, seemingly startled out of a trance. Alfie trotted over to the teepee.

“Nice of you to show up,” Jon said sarcastically, swaggering up to the two. Alfie winced, and Jon bristled, both bracing for Heather’s usual snide remarks and biting attitude that typically surfaced after she spent some time away.

It took them both by surprise when Heather just stared blankly up at them, her eyes dull.

“Sorry,” she said softly. Her bony shoulders hunched as she continued to fiddle with the stick, drawing abstract shapes in the loose dirt in front of her.

Alfie readied a lighthearted response, but Jon wasn’t about to let it go.

“We meet here for you, you know,” Jon said, crossing his arms over his chest. “We don’t have to either. I get that you don’t have a phone, but I live across the street. You couldn’t bother to walk over and at least let me know that you don’t feel like hanging out.” Jon scrunched up his face and pitched his voice, mocking Heather’s, “‘Hi Jon, just came over to tell you that I’ve decided that I have better things to do today.’” Heather winced, but Jon continued. “Can’t go five minutes out of your way so we don’t spend hours waiting around just to see if you show up?”

“Jon,” Alfie warned, upset at Jon’s rude outburst.

“He’s right, Alfie,” Heather said, head bowed. “I’m sorry, I should have said something.”

Jon’s face blanked, her sudden acknowledgment and apology dissipating his frustration.

“Well, just don’t do it again,” he grumbled.

“What do you want to do today?” Alfie asked Heather, trying to lighten the mood. “We could go to the pond. Maybe we could ask Mr. Brown to borrow his fishing rod and try to catch something.”

Heather didn’t acknowledge Alfie, nor did she get up from where she was sitting. She remained silent for so long that Jon was ready to rear for another fight. Suddenly, she looked up at the two of them, her expression unintelligible.

“Actually, I was hoping to show you guys something,” she paused before adding, “If that’s okay.”

Both Alfie and Jon stilled. There was a heaviness in Heather’s voice that made Alfie’s chest tighten and Jon twitchy.

“Sure,” Alfie said, giving her a smile.

“Yeah,” Jon replied begrudgingly, but the venom from his outburst was gone.

“Sit,” Heather said, patting the ground next to her. The motion caused the boys’ eyes to move to her hand. The narrow tips of her fingers that normally stuck out of her sweatshirt were now covered in a thick wrapping of gauze, winding around the digits and disappearing under her sleeve, the normally loose fabric straining from the added bulk.

“What’s that?” Alfie asked, pointing to her hand as they sat down on either side of her.

Heather shrugged, “Fell and broke my wrist,” she responded, without meeting their eyes.

“What’s that?” Jon parroted, pointing to a smattering of green and yellow bruises dotting the small sliver of her neck that was visible from the zipped-up sweatshirt.

“It was a hard fall.” Though it was late August and sweltering, Heather lifted the hood of her sweatshirt over her head and tucked the fabric closer around her.

Alfie opened his mouth to ask another question, but Heather quickly shushed him.

“You need to stay quiet or they won’t come,” she said.

“Who won’t?” Alfie said, looking around nervously.

“What the hell is this?” Jon said, his nose scrunched in disgust as he pointed to a plastic Tupperware container next to Heather, filled with tiny silver fish floating in a foggy liquid.

“Anchovies. Be quiet.”

“Can I at least close it? It reeks.”

“No, now shut it.”

Jon hmphed in response.

At Heather’s request, the three sat cross-legged in front of the teepee in silence, Jon picking at his fingernails, Alfie scanning their surroundings for intruders, and Heather looking up at the tops of the trees. Not long after, a noisy flapping overhead had the three looking up, and when Jon went to stand, Heather held her arm out in front of him to keep him sitting on the ground.

Alfie gasped, “Are those hawks?” he whispered, not taking his wide eyes off the birds in the trees.

Heather smiled, “Yeah.” She leaned over Jon and grabbed the container, lifting it in the air over her head to try and get the birds’ attention.

Goldie and Shadow seemed unsure of the new company, but after a couple of minutes decided that the promise of a snack was worth the risk and glided down to stand in front of the three kids.

Jon yelped and started feeling around on the ground before his hands connected with a rock, flinging it at the nearest bird, causing them both to hop back, flapping their large wings in aggravation.

“What the hell, Jon!” Heather screamed, upset.

“They might have rabies or something!” Jon yelled back, grasping again for something to throw.

“They’re the surprise, you idiot!” she hissed, brushing away all the rocks and sticks within his reach with her good hand.

Jon looked at Heather like she was insane but didn’t try to grab anything else.

“They’re the ones from the drawings,” Alfie said, making the connection between Heather’s pictures and the birds in front of them.

“Yeah, I’ve been feeding them for the past couple of years now,” Heather said, once again grabbing the container of fish.

“Here,” she said, handing both Alfie and Jon one of the slimy silver specimens. “Dangle it from your fingers like this.” Heather grabbed one of the fish and held it at arm’s length in front of her body.

Alfie eagerly followed her lead, but Jon slowly lowered his fish back into the Tupperware.

Gradually, the birds hopped over until they were a couple of feet in front of the three, their heads cocking to eye the proffered specimens. Like always, Goldie waddled to Heather.

Jon slid back until his back was pressed against the teepee, desperately trying to distance himself from the bird.

“Heather,” he said, sounding uncomfortable.

“Don’t worry, they won’t hurt you. They’re really friendly… well, Goldie is anyway. She’s the female; they’re always larger than the males. The skittish one is Shadow.”

Goldie eyed Jon warily before reaching her neck out and taking the fish dangling from Heather’s hand.

“They’re massive,” Alfie whispered, doing his best not to scare the birds away.

Heather threw a couple more fish to Goldie, who happily tore through the silver flesh and gulped down the pieces. Shadow’s eyes locked onto the one in Alfie’s hand. Much to Heather’s surprise, Shadow cautiously stepped forward.

His black eyes scrutinized Alfie and his fishy offering. Keeping space between Heather and a wide berth from Jon, Shadow hopped to the side of Alfie, pausing only a moment before reaching his neck forward and gently taking the fish from Alfie’s fingers.

Heather gasped, causing Alfie to startle.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’ve never been able to get him to grab anything from my hand before.” She beamed at Alfie. “He likes you!”

Alfie gave her a wide smile in return. Both birds finished with their anchovies and hopped up to Alfie and Heather looking for another handout. As Heather fed Goldie and Alfie fed Shadow—and Jon looked at both of them like they had no sense of self-preservation—the three sat in companionable silence.

“They are beautiful,” Alfie breathed, hugging his legs close to his chest.

“They really are,” Heather agreed.

“You two would think vicious, flying dinosaurs would be pretty,” Jon muttered.

Upon hearing Jon’s voice, both Shadow and Goldie looked up before grabbing their final scraps of fish in their talons and bounding farther away from the triad to finish their meal in peace.

Alfie snickered, “I don’t think they like you, Jon.”

“The feeling is mutual,” he petulantly responded.

“Please be nice to them,” she said, quietly. “They’re special to me.” She curled her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around her knees.

“I found them on my ninth birthday,” Heather said, watching the birds preen their feathers in the distance. “It was the day after my mom left.”

“I thought your mom was de-” Jon started but quickly changed his wording when he saw Alfie’s look of horror. “divorced. I just assumed your mom was divorced from your dad.”

“Dead?” Heather said, finishing his initial statement. “No, she’s not. At least I don’t think so. I guess she might as well be.”

Neither Jon nor Alfie knew how to respond to that.

“And they were never married. She met my dad at the Ravens Nest, that sketchy bar off Old Hall. It’s where my dad spends most of his days when he’s not home. I guess that’s where he finds people that are just as messed up as him, since anytime he comes home, he’s always dragging along whoever is willing to go with him.

“Anyway, they met at the bar one day, and I guess she decided not to leave. Then I was born. I used to hear them arguing about me. I think my dad wanted her to get an abortion. He would blame her for waiting too long, and now he was stuck with the consequences of her laziness.” Heather scoffed. “Dad says that I’m the reason he’s still stuck in this town. But he was here long before I was and will probably be here long after I finally get out.”

“I’m sorry, Heather,” Alfie said, putting a chubby hand on her shoulder.

Heather shrugged, “I’m over it. People tend to say horrible things when they’re drunk or high. I’ve learned not to take anything to heart.” She covertly brushed under her eye with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

“After she gave birth to me, she pretty much stopped paying attention to me.” Heather smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I guess you could say that both of my parents are the hands-off type.”

“The truth is, I didn’t know her that well. We were about as close to strangers as possible for two people living in the same house. I don’t think we ever had a real conversation. Not the sit-down, ask you about your day kind, anyway. I couldn’t tell you one thing about her except that she looked like me. I don’t think that dad knew much else about her either.”

Heather hesitated, lost in thought before continuing. “My dad… he’s not very nice. He gets angry when he drinks, and he drinks all the time. He was nicer to me when she was still around, but I think that was mostly because he took out his bad mood on her. I would lock myself in my room when the fighting started. But now that she’s gone…”

Heather absentmindedly stroked her cast. “Sometimes I wish that she were still here. Maybe that makes me a horrible person.” She shook her head and whispered, “It probably does,” before continuing.

“They would get in these arguments and just start screaming at each other. That’s when he would start hitting her. It got pretty bad at times. Then he would leave with whatever friends were there for the bar, and she would sit in the corner of the living room, crying and bleeding.”

Heather was staring at something very far away. “I would try to help her. I would bring her a blanket or towels, band-aids if I could find them; not that they would be of much help. I just wanted to try and comfort her, let her know that I was still there, but when I would get close or try to talk to her, she would just scream at me until I went away.”

“A couple of months before she left, they both got drunk and ended up having a pretty big fight. After he left to go party with his buddies, she had to drive to the hospital and get some stitches on her head. I tried talking to her when she got home, but she didn’t want anything to do with me. She just curled up on the couch and started to smoke.”

“She looked worse than normal. I waited until she fell asleep and walked into town to go to Target. I got her some bandages and some antibacterial soap for her stitches. I was going to leave when I found these pair of earrings.”

Heather’s expression softened. “They were beautiful. Little gold hoops with tiny green gemstones in them. She had this bracelet that she used to wear that was the same color, so I thought that she would like them. I wanted to cheer her up, to show that even though she didn’t want to talk to me, I was still thinking about her. So I bought her the pair of earrings.”

Heather eyed the boys bashfully, “Well, I stole them actually. They were twenty dollars, and I only had enough money for the bandages.”

“She was still sleeping when I got back home, so I just set them on the coffee table with the rest of the supplies. When I came out of the room later, the earrings were gone from the coffee table, and she was wrapping up her head with the fresh gauze.”

“She never said anything to me about the earrings. I thought that maybe she hid them away someplace special. If Dad saw them, he might try to take them to sell for extra money.”

Heather went silent for some time, watching the hawks search the ground for any scraps of fish they may have missed. She cleared her throat and continued, “I don’t know why she finally decided to leave. I tried to think back and pinpoint something that was different. Something that was worse than usual. But it was always that bad. I guess she just got tired of dealing with it all, or maybe she got tired of constantly having to share her space with strangers all the time. Or maybe she got tired of sharing her drugs. Either way, she left. Just packed up all her stuff and left when I was at school without saying anything to me or him.”

“I didn’t even know that she was really gone until later that night when Dad started to go on a rampage, tearing up the house, knocking things over, throwing stuff at the walls, and screaming at the top of his lungs.”

She laughed humorlessly, a sharp cruel sound that caused Shadow to move closer to Goldie. “He wasn’t mad that she ditched us, just pissed because she apparently took his favorite glass pipe with her. I stayed in my room until late that night when I knew he was far too drunk and high to come after me. I asked him about Mom, if she actually left, and you know what he said?”

Heather shook her head miserably. “‘Which one?’ He asked me which one was my mom. Said he gets all the bitches mixed up.”

“The truth is I can’t blame her for leaving. I would too if I could. She never loved me, but I’m glad that she was able to leave. I didn’t even blame her for not taking me with her.”

“I imagined that she would get out of town and get clean. Maybe she would live with her parents for a while until she was able to get back on her feet. I imagined that maybe she would get a job as a waitress or a hairstylist or something. And that she would save up enough money to get a little apartment; nothing too fancy, but something that she could call hers.”

“I imagined that she would buy a little jewelry box,” Heather said, almost a whisper, “and she would put the earrings in there, and maybe she would think about me in that moment. Maybe she would feel guilty for leaving right before my birthday. Maybe she wished she said goodbye.”

A tear fell down Heather’s cheek, and her face twisted into a sneer. “I found them the next day. The earrings. They were wedged in between the couch cushions. They were all bent and had this sticky black tar on the backs of them. Turns out she used them to clear one of her pipes, probably the one that she took from Dad.”

“Dad came home with his junkie friends and told me to get lost, so I went to my room. I sat on my bed and tried to wash the black stuff off the earrings, but it wouldn’t come off. They started partying like they always do, but I wanted to clean the earrings. I normally don’t interrupt them; I hate the people that he brings over, but I went into the living room and asked him for something to help get it off.”

“He gave me this cleaning stuff, said that at least he didn’t have to buy me a present now that I’ve already taken care of it. And that’s when I realized. I stood there next to my dad and his junkie friends all nodding off, and realized that Mom probably didn’t even know it was my birthday to begin with.”

“Being unwanted was a feeling that I had gotten used to a long time ago. Dad doesn’t want me, but at least there’s some sort of acknowledgment to that. But being irrelevant? Completely inconspicuous? That was something way worse.”

More tears fell down Heather’s face, and this time she didn’t try to stop them, but she offered a tiny smile, genuine this time.

“After I cleaned the earrings, I came out here to bury them. I don’t have my ears pierced, and I didn’t want to have to keep looking at them. That’s when I first saw Goldie and Shadow. They were in the trees just watching me dig. I’ve never seen a hawk up close before, and from the way they were looking at me, I don’t think they ever saw a person that close before either.”

Heather smiled wide. “It was magical. The best birthday present ever. I never expected to see them again, but the next day, there they were. Just looking down at me again. The third day is when I tried to feed them.”

She laughed at herself, “It didn’t work; they were way too scared of me. But they kept coming back.”

She looked longingly at the birds. “They took away the pain. Just a little every day. To them, I wasn’t irrelevant or unwanted; I just was, and it was the nicest feeling that I’ve ever felt.”

Alfie tucked her casted arm around his. Hesitantly, Jon grabbed her other hand in his. The three sat silently watching the hawks, who were now nipping at each other’s tails.

“I guess they’re not so bad,” Jon said nonchalantly.

“Dude, are you serious?” Alfie balked.

Heather’s face went slack before she burst out laughing. After a moment, both Jon and Alfie joined in, and soon the three were cackling so loudly that both Goldie and Shadow flicked their heads in annoyance before taking off and leaving the three in the woods.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #america #fiction #novel #novel writing #pip of a raptor #writers and poets #creative writing

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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years ago

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A Pirate's Life for Me

Cover Art Done By: @fridaydev-draws and @friday-dsv (Dreamsmp x reader) Pirate Au! Love Interests: C!Wilbur, C!Techno, C!Dream, C!Sapnap, C!Quackity, and C!Schlatt

~~~

Salt burned your lungs as you tossed open your window with a loud bang, the seagulls perching on your flower boxes screeched in protest and flew from your window. “Fucking sky rats get the fuck out of here you heathens!” You snarled out the window shaking your fist at the bothersome birds, the sounds of the ocean crashing on the shore filled your ears as well as the chatter of the dock workers. You let the breeze blow back your hair and you heard someone calling your name from down below.

“Good morning (Y/n)!” You glanced below you and grinned,

“Morning Eret!” They waved back enthusiastically their dress spilling around their ankles, a basket of fruit was balanced on his hip. “Opening early today? I'm sure your patrons would be happy to start their drunken stupor early,” She held a hand to his mouth snickering and you shot them a look.

“If that gets more money in my pocket then so be it, I won't complain too much.” You shrugged, “Will I still see you later tonight?”

“Always do dove, how can I resist a drink from my favorite bartender.”

“You can’t it’s my charm.”

“Will the both of you shut the fuck up!” Another man’s voice growled from another open window, “It’s too early for your bullshit.” You saw Eret click his tongue but smiled up at you despite the man's protests,

“I’m heading to the market anyway. These fruits won’t sell themselves, I'll see you later.”

“See you soon!” You closed your windows once more, but not before urging your daisies to grow one last time. You tossed open the curtains allowing light to spill into your cozy home, a small carpet was in the middle of your room. It was a deep red and the pattern was made of gold yarn, aside from that everything in your residency was made of dark wood. Your shelves were littered with books and empty cups, and your old worn journal sat open on your desk. It was filled with childhood memories and you continued to write in it to this day, it was easier then, things were simple and everything was innocent and new to you. Now your days were filled with sea fairing idiots who liked to drink themselves stupid, but you could handle yourself, you always kept your father's dagger on your thigh at all times. Those who were frequent customers knew not to mess with you and those who were new learned their lesson within the first ten minutes of meeting you. You inherited the bar from your father, a kindhearted man who died a few years before today, leaving you with the bar and the dagger you had on your hip. You fished through your closet pulling out your clothes for the day, your dress was a gorgeous light coffee color and came down to your ankles. The bottom was flared and had dark brown panels on the sides, it faded inward to a light green then back to the coffee color. The corset around your waist was a dark brown with light green trim, you tied it tight with a small huff making sure your waist was sinched perfectly. The sleeves came down to your elbows allowing you to move your arms freely while making drinks. The top of the dress ended just below your collarbone, you strapped your dagger to your thigh before lacing up your knee-high black boots.

You thought back to your tavern downstairs, you were fortunate enough that you weren’t running this entire operation yourself. You ended up hiring help and they were like family and you knew they saw you as such as well. Most of the girls didn’t have a family of their own so you gave them room and board, also money, of course, you weren’t a terrible boss! You opened the door to your room, you watched Cecil, the tavern’s mascot trot out of Juniper’s room. The border collie liked to switch up which rooms he stayed in protecting every one of your girls when you couldn’t be there for them.

The first of your girls was Adelaide or Addie, she was one of the first to fall under your care. She was around your age, a motherly type, sheep hybrid, who cared for the girls, and always gave the drunk patrons with mommy issues a shoulder to cry on. Her long brown hair always hung down her back, she typically worked tables, served food and drinks, and always got a generous tip from patrons.

The next girl was Judas, a squid-enderman hybrid who was taller than you could ever wish to be, although intimidating you couldn’t meet a kinder woman. A jack of all trades the woman helped out wherever she could, black-ish purple hair curled around her shoulders and some people came specifically to hear her sing. Her voice was like rich velvet and lured men and women in like a siren.

Juniper was after Judas, a demon hybrid who was naive but you’d be a fool to underestimate her. She worked beside you at the bar, she can make some mean fruity drinks, Eret always preferred her drinks over yours. Freckles adorned her face and shoulders, her light brown hair curled down to her middle back, purple horns sprouted from the top of her head. You wanted to adorn it with gold jewelry and you were saving up to gift some to her.

Yeti was a human woman like yourself, she didn’t bother with those who were rude or obnoxious. She kept to herself only really talking when she was spoken to or when there was an opportunity to crack a rare joke. She typically stayed on the sidelines, out of the scenes and Yeti liked to help Judas decorate her sets.

Zig was a kind young adult, they got along with everyone who came inside the tavern. Soft emerald eyes drew people in, and they tried to make sure tensions within the bar didn’t rise and start a fight. There would always be one or two that’s just natural, but one look at Zig and his magic words and they seemed to disperse, not wanting to hurt the kid’s feelings.

Vendetta was the tallest member of the group you had taken in, she was stunningly beautiful and didn't take shit from anybody. She was a guard dog if you will, making sure no one fucked with any of the girls in your tavern. While Zig did their best to keep people under control sometimes they couldn’t win. That’s when Ven would step in and ‘kindly’ escort them off the premises with or without force.

The youngest member here was Luvena. She was a moo-bloom hybrid with soft brown hair that sprouted flowers, her cow ears would twitch when she was excited and followed Addie around like she was her daughter. Addie took her under her wing and was training her to be a perfect little waitress, absolutely warming customers’ hearts. Luvena also loved to give out flowers, she was a fan favorite bringing new life into the tavern.

Cecil barked seeing his mama and scampered over to you, you poured food into his bowl as Juniper wandered into the hallway. Her head rested on the doorframe as she gave you a tried wave, “Morning (Y/n).”

“Morning Juni, We’re opening a little early today. Take your time I’m not expecting a big rush of bar patrons this early.” You assured her and she gave a sleepy nod,

“I’ll be down as soon as Ven’s out of the shower.” She yawned, “This beauty doesn’t come naturally.”

“Hardly darling you’re gorgeous just the way you are.” You reassured with a wink, Juniper flushed a little, happily laughing beside you.

“Just go wake the others will you, you flirt!”

Tossing your head back you gave a happy laugh heading down the hallway to make sure everyone was awake and ready to go for later. Addie and Luvena shared a room so she was in charge of waking up the youngest member of the tavern. Judas was already awake making breakfast for everyone when you headed downstairs, Zig was sitting on the counter beside her, they were the designated taste tester.

“Good morning Miss (Y/n)!” Zig chirped, the young adult hummed fondly, “Sleep okay?”

“Absolutely. What about you both? Thank you for making breakfast Judas.” You hummed fondly and Judas had a shy smile on her face.

“I slept well thank you.” Judas hummed softly, “Also it’s my pleasure. Want to make sure everyone’s healthy and alright.” She let out a little squeak as you wrapped your arms around her body, you barely came up to her chest,

“Judas please marry me,” You complained, “Your breakfast is always heavenly and you care for everyone. Please be my wife.”

“(Y/n)! Please.” She sputtered face turning a dark purple, Zig made a noise of protest and held his hand in the air.

“If she won’t marry you I will!”

“Zig! I’d be honored!”

Their entire face lit up with excitement and they hopped off the table to hug you tightly, you hugged them back and pressed a fond kiss to the top of their head. “I got to open up the tavern, you mind setting the table for me Zig?”

“Sure Miss!”

You sent Judas a kiss in the air which her face burned at, quickly going back to her cooking. You smiled eagerly and unlocked the door to the tavern, you shoved a bucket in front of the door to keep it open. The salty ocean air wafted through your nostrils and your eyes sparkled wondrously.

Today is going to be a good day.

Almost immediately a particular bastard caught your eye,

“You’re here early.” You mused raising an eyebrow,

“Heard you were opening early today sweetcheeks,” His voice was a low baritone, rough from years of smoking and drinking. Horns curled around his fluffy ears that stood out against his gruff exterior, he was a ram hybrid at its finest. “Figured I’d take the opportunity to get a special drink from my special girl,” He mused looking you up and down drinking in your figure. You scoffed at the retired man, he dressed like he was cosplaying captain jack sparrow, the gun’s in his belt just added to his costume and so did his large ruffled shirt, he was never one to forget his gold jewelry.

“Where’s Quackity?” You ignored him sitting him at his usual table, he frowned but you knew he was taking it as an opportunity to stare at your ass. He slid into the stool and put his feet up on the table, his boots were muddy but you could only control him so much. He was too much of a regular to get scared off by your threats and scolding.

“He’ll be in at his normal time. He’s not much of a day drinker, although can’t say I’m complaining. Having all your attention on me and all, considering I’m the only one in here. That being said, I’ll have my usual sweetcheeks.”

“Stop calling me that,” You scolded with a certain fondness that was reserved for the man. “You’re lucky you’re my favorite regular Schlatt,” you gave his ears a fond pinch and he bleated. He sent you a scalding look as you walked away, although the look soon fell as he got a good look at your ass once again.

“I’m your only regular sugar tits!”

“Schlatt feet off the table.” Addie criticized whacking his boots with a rolled-up menu, he rolled his eyes but dropped his feet to the floor. “You should know this by now, we go through this every day.”

“Yeah, yeah little lamb I’m on it. Judas here?”

“She’s always here,” She huffed spreading the menu down on the table. “Do you want your usual or something different? Should I get Quackity’s drink ready too?”

“Nah just stick with mine, for now, tell Judas I’d like to see her.”

Addie clicked her tongue and placed her hand on her hip, “fine. But if you’re just going to grossly flirt with her as you do with (y/n), then keep it to yourself.”

“You’re not the boss of me. Just because you look like an old hag-” The way she glared at him sent a chill down his spine, “shit babe take a joke will you.”

Eventually, people began to file into the tavern, as the morning faded into the afternoon and then into the evening. The tavern was bustling with life, Judas’s elegant voice traveled through the crowds and her voices seemed to float above the voices. Quackity joined Schlatt by his side seemingly irritated by a conversation they were having, Schlatt was about five drinks in at this point, which was much less than his usual, and Quackity on his second.

“What are they talking about?” Luvena asked swinging her legs as she sat on the bar beside you. Her moobloom ears twitching every so often as she tried to eavesdrop on their conversation,

“Vena it’s impolite to eavesdrop.” You scolded bopping her on the head lightly, she whined and rubbed the top of her head.

“I wasn’t!” She argued as you rolled your eyes, you looked over at the two men to find Quackity looking over at you. His hand was raised in the air, one finger was up summoning you to get him another drink.

“I’ll be back, why don’t you talk to Ven while I’m gone. She’ll keep an eye on you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter!”

“Good thing she doesn’t want to babysit your ass either, now shoo.” You motioned her to hop off the bar and she did so with a long, dramatic sigh. You looked over at Ven who gave you a silent nod, letting you know she’d watch out for the youngest member of your band of misfits. Meanwhile, you grabbed Quackity another drink and walked over to the two men at the table, “Someone order a drink?”

“Aye! Mamacita! Fancy seeing you here.” Quackity purred a bright smile spreading across his face seeing that you were the one to deliver his drink,

“Hey Big Q,” You greeted placing the drink in front of him, “You doing okay?”

“Better now that an angel walked into my sight,” He flirted and you rolled your eyes. “What? It’s true! You always brighten my day you know? Ow!” Schlatt hit his ex-first mate over the head,

“Take a breath lover boy. Thanks for the drink sugar tits.”

“You’re welcome, what were the both of you talking about if I may ask.” You hummed grabbing some of Schlatt’s empty glasses, an uncharacteristic frown came over both their faces. “Oh? Touchy subject?”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Just dishing out some old problems, most of which are better left unsaid.” He aimed that statement at Quackity, his jaw seemed clenched and Quackity’s brow furrowed in annoyance.

“Well I just want to remind the both of you,” You passed the tray of empty glasses over to Addie as she walked by, she took them swiftly. You grabbed the side of both their heads and pressed them against your chest, not that you knew but both men’s flushed to the tips of their ears. “No physical fights are allowed in this tavern. If one starts I won’t hesitate to kick your fucking asses. Got it?” They looked over your chest and locked eyes with one another, after years on the sea they could read one another’s facial expressions rather easily and at that moment they shared the same thought,

‘They should fight more often.’

“I said, got it?”

“Yes ma’am,” The repeated simultaneously as you pulled away,

“That’s what I like to hear-”

“(Y/n)!” Vendetta’s velvety voice called out from behind you, you turned and saw a group of newcomers file into your bar. Your body tensed momentarily,

Pirates.

Schlatt turned his head to follow your gaze and he tensed from behind you, “fuck me.” He growled and Quackity raised an eyebrow at his captain, he turned to look over his shoulder and his face lit up.

“Sapnap!”

The pirate who had a white bandana tied around his forehead glanced over at him and a smile lit up across his features. “Quackity? Is that you?”

“My man!” He stood up from his chair heading over to wrap the man in a hug, “I haven’t seen you in years, man.” You zoned out of their conversation eyes locking with a few of the other pirates who walked into the tavern. Vendetta and Addie both greeted them, but everyone who was under your care knew to keep their guard up around pirates. From what you could gather there seemed to be two crews, a crew of what only seemed to be two, Sapnap was included. The fire demon was still talking with Quackity, while the other man took in the view of the tavern, he had shaggy blonde hair, and had a few scars across his face. A porcelain mask sat on top of his head, a forest green cloak was around his shoulders, his hood was lowered around his neck. A sword was strapped tight against his hip and there was another dagger that seemed to be tucked against his side. His eyes gazed towards you and he winked teasingly with a coy smile, you scoffed looking over at Addie.

“Seat those two gentlemen yeah? Be careful, I’ll tell Ven and Yeti to keep an eye.” Addie looked at you, concern written on her soft features but she nodded. While Addie departed, you noticed Ven talking with the other group. Luvena was hiding behind Vendetta’s long legs, although a tall blonde boy seemed very keen on talking to her. You smoothed out your dress and moved towards the group of three, you eyed them up casually. The blonde looked to be around Luvena’s age, he had a shit-eating grin on his face and his uniform matched that of the second tallest in the group. The second tallest was clad in a light blue jacket with large golden buttons on the red collar. He had a cream-frilled shirt underneath and a black belt holding up his brown slacks, those were tucked into black boots. On his back seemed to be a guitar and was the only one of them not holding a weapon, but you knew better than to assume with pirates. His curly brown hair seemed to bounce every time he talked, he seemed to be the ringleader but there was no doubt that the real ringleader was the hybrid standing beside him. He was taller, on par with Vendetta in height, he had long pink hair that was tied in a ponytail on top of his head. A few pieces framed his face elegantly, there was no doubt he was the captain of the little crew that was in your tavern. He had a white shirt on with a deep low cut ‘V’ it showed off a good portion of his scared chest, around his shoulders sat a deep red jacket but his arms were outside of it and crossed over his chest. He seemed content on letting his second in command do all the talking, his red eyes were the only ones to meet yours. His head tilted upwards and before Vendetta could stop him he walked over towards you,

“You own the tavern?” His voice was a low monotone and it sent an array of pleasant chills up your spine.

“I do,” You raised an eyebrow crossing your arms over your chest, “Names (Y/n). You are?”

“Captain Technoblade of the ship Odyssey, I was hoping you had a few rooms and a table available. My brothers and I are pretty exhausted, we’ve been sailing all night.”

Brothers, they certainly didn’t all look alike, but then again you certainly had a mix of girls in your care. Your tongue swiped against the top row of your teeth, “Why don’t you and your brothers take a seat at the bar for now. Juniper will be happy to serve you, I’ll see if we have some free rooms available.”

“Thank you, once you return I’ll introduce them to you if you’d like,” Technoblade bowed his head before turning back to get his brother’s attention.

“I’d like that thank you.” You gave a nod motioning for Vendetta to follow you as you slid behind the bar with Juniper, Judas had also taken a spot sitting on the bar. You figured you’d let her know as well, considering she was another adult figure in the group. You knew either Juniper or Judas would fill in Addie considering the three were close. “Ven, can they be trusted?”

“Not too sure about the masked man, the one Quackity seems to be familiar with seems decent enough. He’s a fire demon though, could smell him from miles away, we all just need to be cautious.”

“Agreed,” Juniper added tapping her finger on her chin. “We should just try to curb all fighting if at all possible, what did the captain of the other group ask you?”

“They want a room, I’m about to check to see if we have availability. Thoughts on that?”

Judas let out a low hum her eyes followed both sets of pirate groups around the tavern, “I say if we have availability let them stay. They seem harmless so long as we don’t mess with them, which we’d never do.”

“Plus I can always stay awake to keep an eye on them.” Vendetta tapped her nails against the table,

“You sure.”

“As if I’d let anything happen to any of you, you’re my family.”

You all smiled softly, and you noticed Judas’s eyes widen, “Zig! Get that out of your mouth this instant!” She shot up from her spot and over to the person in question. The three of you laughed fondly at the nonsense, meanwhile, Juniper saw the three brothers sit at her bar. She moved away from you to greet them, you immediately could tell she was taken with the second eldest brother.

He seemed to be an absolute lady killer.

Vendetta ruffled your hair before going back to stand at her place by the door to keep the peace. You headed up the stairs to the rafters to check on the extra rooms you had, “Excuse me?” You tensed visibly turning around to face the man in all green. His eyes were mesmerizing, a fierce jade green to contrast his cloak, “Do you happen to have two rooms available?” The man held up two fingers to clarify his request,

“Do you usually start introductions with a blatant request like that?”

He chuckled a smile spreading across his lips, “I’m Dream and you gorgeous?”

“(Y/n), it’s your lucky day I’m about to check and see if any are available. My tavern is a hot commodity tonight.”

“Well, I can see why,” he spoke and you raised an eyebrow and tilted your head to the side.

“Oh?”

“It has the hottest owner around. Word spreads fast.”

You couldn’t believe this man was making your cheeks burn, he chuckled softly taking a step towards your figure. “Oh really, word spreads that fast on the open sea, Captian?” It was his turn to turn light pink, but he covered it up quickly with a chuckle.

“Touché.”

“I’ll get on that room for you and your friend. Take a seat, for now, this part is for guests and staff only you know?”

“So I have you all to myself?” He cheekily mused, he stepped towards you and before you knew it you were pinned against a wall. His hand suddenly brushed against your cheek, it was cold in comparison to your warm cheek. You felt Dream’s thumb brush against your cheek slowly, “You know...being on the open sea alone does something to a person.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” You mused pushing your forehead back against Dream’s, “All alone with only your crew with you.” Taking his other hand within your own you slid it up to your hip, you saw his entire face turn red as he stared down at your chest. “You’re probably missing a little love in your life, aren’t you Dreamy?” He nodded dumbly, his eyes still not leaving your chest,

Perfect. You weren’t going to let some pirate boy get the better of you.

He let out a grunt of pain as you spun him around and pressed his head into the wall with your elbow, your other hand has his pinned behind his back. “This hallway is for staff and guests only,” You purred in his ear before letting him go and swinging your hips before heading up the stairs fully. From behind you, Dream’s face was a deep, dark red and he had to clear his throat. Dream wasn’t going to let you go after that, I mean look at you, tough and able to hold your own, it awakened something inside him.

After checking up on the rooms you headed back down into the main hall, three-room keys in your hand. Glancing over at the scene in front of you, you saw Juniper dancing in the middle of the tavern the flirtatious brother at her side. Judas was sitting beside Schatt and Quackity at the bar, Addie was tending to Technoblade and the blonde at their little table. Dream and Sapnap were whispering to one another in the corner but still seemed to be enjoying the show. Vendetta was smiling softly by the door, beside her were Luvena and Zig both playing various instruments. You noticed Eret was also amongst the crowd, she had a brilliant grin on his face, it was flushed pink with alcohol and you smiled to yourself.

It was peaceful, and for a moment you forget half the patrons were scoundrels or pirates.

That was until the man dancing with Juniper locked eyes with you, his eyes lit up and he spun Juniper off into Addie’s arms. She giggled snuggling into the mother sheep’s arms, you heard a distressed “Juni! I’m holding glasses!” Before your vision was overtaken by the handsome flirt.

“Hello love,” He hummed, “May I offer you a dance?”

You were about to refuse but you saw Yeti, who finally made her appearance as it was getting closer to Judas’s set, giving you a big thumbs up “I’d be honored.” You responded taking his hand within your own, he pulled you out onto the dance floor and you felt his other hand politely hover on the small of your back. He allowed you to lean into his touch as he began to elegantly spin you around the dance floor, you were almost embarrassed to say felt like a princess. “Maybe I could get your name?” You asked above the music, “Since it seems you’re my dance partner this evening?”

“Wilbur Soot my love.” He hummed proudly, “The first mate of the ship Odysseus at your service. Plus I play music on the side.”

“Well now you need to play for us,” Wilbur twirled you around in a circle,

“Maybe one day. If you give me your name?”

“(Y/n) (L/n).”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

“I was right.” You commented biting the bottom of your lip trying not to smile,

“About what?”

“You.”

“Ah? Already talking about me I see? Is my manliness and gentlemanly qualities that renowned?”

“Not exactly.” He picked you up slightly and pulled you into a low dip, “I was right in thinking you a nothing but a flirty playboy.” Wilbur almost dropped you, you squawked grabbing onto his neck. He began to laugh as you clung to his chest,

“Alright love. You caught me red-handed.”

Wilbur set you on your feet hands on your lower back, you were pulled close to his chest. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I get them for free hon. I own the place.”

“Oh...oh.” He paled a little, “I didn’t fuck up our chances of getting a room did I?”

“Nah lucky for you and your brothers, I have you covered, same with your buddies over there.” You motioned to Dream and Quackity’s friend, Wilbur’s face paled as he felt the chilled room key get placed in his palm. “What’s your little brother’s name?”

“Tommy.”

“Tell them both we serve breakfast free from 7 am to 10 am.” He nodded as you walked past, Wilbur meanwhile turned to look at Technoblade. It seemed he had his red eyes on the couple the entire time they were dancing. He held up a room key, it was labeled 205; Technoblade nodded his head before leaning back and talking to Addie once more. “Dream!” You called throwing a hand up into the air, instead of Dream, Sapnap looked up he nudged Dream with his elbow. The man was now wearing his mask, but at least you could tell he was looking at you,

“Well hello, darlin’ you must be (Y/n). Name's Sapnap. Dream told me about you, so you have good news for us I hope?”

“Pleasure, I'm sure he told you all about me,” He nodded, his eyes taking in your body especially your ass. “Got you both a room key, your neighbors. Across from the other crew of pirates. Just don’t fight and we won’t have any problems.”

“You mean those jackasses are staying?” Sapnap complained loudly, looking over your shoulder at the other crew members.

“You both didn’t think you were the only patrons, did you? This is a business after all.” You, tossed the keys their way, Dream caught it with ease and Sapnap fumbled it only a little bit. After they were in their hands, you waved them off with a flutter of your palm you turned around to go speak with Judas about her set but before you could take a step you saw Schlatt stumbling up from his seat. “Ah shit,” You knew what was about to happen, you weren’t paying attention to the ram hybrid so who knew how many drinks in he was. You felt responsible, for a while you and Judas had been trying to help Schlatt with his addiction. You couldn’t help but wonder what exactly set him off for him to get this drunk, Quackity caught him in his arms with a grumble. The man was a drunken mess, and as you approached you could hear his slurred speech and could practically smell the alcohol on his breath. “Schlatt,” You spoke carefully and as soon as you got close Schlatt detached himself from Quackity and lunged at you. His head was buried in his chest, he almost purred like he was very happy to be there, you rolled your eyes and ran your fingers through his hair. You were mindful of his horns but he seemed pretty eager for you to touch them,

“(Y/n).” He whined although it was muffled against your ample chest, “Why do pirates have to fuck everything up?”

“What are you on about Schlatt? No one likes pirates.”

“They’re gonna take you away from me, sugar. You’re my safe space, this tavern is my safe space.” You sighed listening to his drunken ramblings, you grabbed his horns and pulled him away from your chest.

“This is my life Schlatt, I’m not going anywhere trust me. Plus my family is here, they need me. So try not to worry okay?” You slicked back the hair on his forehead before planting a fond kiss there, everyone in the tavern narrowed their eyes at the scene. Even your girls were green with envy, at the sight of their lovely boss kissing someone who wasn’t them. He leaned against your lips eyes fluttering closed,

“Well, well, well if it isn’t Captian Schlatt? Or ex-captain if I remember correctly.”

“What?”

You turned your head and felt Schlatt’s arms wrap around your waist and held you close to his chest. The touch was protective and you felt your heart skip a beat, why was he protecting you, and why did you actually feel protected?

“Has the drinking finally caught up to you? Or was it the fact that you lost your so-”

Was that Dream's voice?

“Shut the fuck up.” He snarled and you were shoved behind him into Quackity’s arms, you felt less protected. “I’m not that person anymore and you fucking know that,” Vendetta came to stand beside the both of you a hand was placed on your shoulder protectively. You knew she was desperately wanted to step in and you held up a hand to stop her.

“This isn’t good…” Quackity murmured, “They’re going to fight. Schlatt’s going to get himself fucking killed.”

“Calm yourself. We won’t let it get that far.” Ven grumbled eyeing you waiting for your signal. But you were lost in the conversation or argument, the two were having, you couldn’t believe Schlatt was a pirate. He was so...he just didn’t...he was a drunk okay? That didn’t exactly shout feared pirate to you!

“Oh, are you sure? I remember that look, that’s the look you’d get before you stomped someone’s lights out. No wonder your son disappeared under mysterious circumstances-” Dream was shoved against one of the poles holding up the building. He grunted and Schlatt’s arm was pulled back ready to punch, but his arm was stopped by smaller hands,

“Pardon me Mr. Schlatt but you know how we feel about fighting in our tavern.” Addie bubbled, she had a smile on her face but it wasn’t kind, it was full of warning.

“Get the fuck off me, sheepie. This doesn’t fucking concern you.” Schlatt shoved her away and as soon as his skin made contact with her body he made a sound of distress.

“(Y/n)...” Addie murmured quietly, your father’s dagger was embedded in Schlatt’s arm,

“Fucking hell you bitch!” He snarled baring his teeth, you glared at him twisting the dagger he yelled in agony.

“Touch one of my girls again and next time this dagger is going right into your back.” You ripped the dagger out, splattering the floor with blood. He grabbed his arm tightly and looked at you with slight betrayal in his yellow eyes. “I mean it Schlatt, Quackity take him home.” The man nodded looking at you longingly, he muttered a quiet ‘Sorry’ before escorting him out of your tavern. “You,” You glared harshly over at Dream, “Go to your room.”

“You’re not my mother.”

“Then find another play to stay.” You spat, he turned away and you looked over at Addie, “Are you alright?” Your voice turned tender as you cupped her cheeks. She nuzzled against your palms and nodded her head,

“I’m fine. You didn’t need to-”

“Yes, I did. No one messes with you. With any of you on my watch.”

The sheep hybrid made a little sound as her bottom lip trembled, she wrapped you in a tight hug which you accepted without hesitance. Judas walked over next and wrapped you both in her arms, pretty soon you were surrounded by your girls and Zig.

All of them had the same mindset: comforting both you and Addie.

It was good to be loved.

Wilbur watched the scene curiously and glanced over at Technoblade who stood up from his chair.

“I think that’s our cue to leave for the night.” He looked over at his first mate, Wilbur nodded in agreement grabbing his guitar from the chair beside Technoblade.

“They...Techno were they talking about Tubbo.” Tommy whispered to his brother, his brow furrowing in concern as they all climbed the steps up to their room, “You don’t think-”

“It just might be Tommy.” Technoblade tilted his head to the side, “Guess that’ll be something we ask him when we get back to the ship tomorrow.”

“Well, this trip is going to be way more fun than I thought.” Wilbur snickered lighting a cigarette, taking a long drag, before letting the smoke curl out of his mouth and up into the rafters. ~~~

Tag List: @v01dw4lk3rz, @jam-bombs, @abovenyx, @glitterydigitalart, @phoenixaesthetic19, @luluwinchester, @boiled-onionrings, @pastelmoonwitche, @roxy3457, @alovestruck-fool, @victory-is-here, @mack4676, @fiorenc, @theoneandonlyyeti, @bloodrose0723, @sandyy-woo,

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tiesthatbind-tf · 4 years ago

Photo

A lad finally gets some of that coveted spotlight!

Benjamin Bane (just Ben or Benji, thanks) may be the youngest of the active Autobot team as their sprightly scout who’s got a chip on his shoulder he wants to hurl into the next Functionist or Decepticon picking on him for his size, and who’s been through quite a bit despite his age, if the burn on his left arm, the slide bite on his right hand and the multitude of old cigarette burns he’s reluctant to explain are anything to go by.

When not on the field, he’s an avid dancer (with a love for ballet, something he could only pursue in secret until recently, and something which forms the core of his offensive style) and a good enough artist that he, alongside Mirage, are the two assigned to decorate armor for the team.

His smiley, chirpy facade hides quite a couple of issues, including PSTD and self-esteem issues, anxiety attacks, and an urge to please those he trusts even if it comes at his detriment.

More to his story below. (TW for child abuse)

Benjamin Bane (Bumblebee) would be hard-pressed to come up with a single good memory concerning his biological family during his childhood, and not for the lack of trying.

Born to an upper middle-class family in New York comprising a bullish, hot-tempered police sergeant father and a housewife mother, he grew up in the shadow of the son his father, who came from a family of law enforcers, wanted him to be in order to carry on the family legacy.

That he was a gentle, bubbly, sensitive child who loved following his mother around in the kitchen and spending his free time drawing did not bode well for the image his father wished to portray, and it didn’t take long for the discipline intended to mold him into a ‘man’ to become horrifically physical when he was barely five.

His mother, already used to his old man’s temper and quick hand, would often step in to take the punishment meant for him whenever he did something undesirable, though she couldn’t save Ben from the man’s wrath completely, and by the time he was nine, he was never seen without a hoodie in school and had perfected every excuse he’d been told to repeat when asked why he could not take it off or why he would come in on some days with a split lip.

He was small for his size, quiet, and took great pains not to be noticed, which had the opposite effect of making him the target of every other larger child looking to blow off steam, and he became good at running.

Really good.

There was no running from home however, home where the walls were insulated so neighbours wouldn’t hear what was happening within, and while some days would be better than others, there wasn’t a moment that he didn’t break into a cold sweat whenever he heard his father’s footsteps approaching his room.

With his mother unable to bear more children due to an illness, his father furiously continued with the campaign (sometimes the carrot was used though mostly it was the stick) to mold him into the son the man wanted, so he could make the cut during the streaming process prior to high school where students would be sorted into their future occupational classes.

What support he might have had from his mother in his young years also evaporated, as she pushed him to be the son his father needed him to be to keep the peace, putting the weight of the household’s sanctity on his slight ��shoulders.

He was forced into marksmanship lessons (where his first attempt to fire a gun went awry and left him with a deep slide bite wound), multiple self-defence classes to toughen him up (helpful for bullies whenever they didn’t come in packs), and a series of workouts to encourage a growth spurt so he could catch up to other potential cadet candidates.

The little sliver of hope that he would be good enough to make the junior police cadets went up in smoke when he was assigned to the manual class instead, owing to his size and his visceral aversion to handling firearms.

Branded as worthless and only good for paying off the ‘debt’ accumulated from the classes his father had earlier forced him into, Ben entered high school with his self-esteem scrapping at topsoil and digging deeper, and had it not been for a chance encounter with another boy who was evading a group of military-classed students intending to instil a lesson about talking back to those higher in the hierarchy, it might have dug itself into a grave.

The boy, who introduced himself as Guillermo ‘Memo’ Gutierrez after Ben dutifully sent the bullies scattering, was also assigned to the manual class and both of them decided to stick together for safety in numbers.

Ben had ruefully accepted his lot in life after years of being broken and beaten down. Memo, however, had a loving and supportive family; this kept the spark of his defiance to the system alive and he kindled it in Ben’s by giving his friend a safe space to escape to whenever the situation at Ben’s home became too intense.

Among Memo and Memo’s family was the first time where Ben opened up about his interests, could speak freely and found acceptance for what he liked and who he was.

The desire to reclaim the things he loved pushed him to seek out part-time work, which he eventually found after befriending a girl, Charlie Watson, who had helped put an end to the harassment he and Memo endured at school by playing the hierarchy to their favour and wielding her Navy ‘prime-pick’ status.

That she actually wanted nothing to do with the class she was pushed into (Navy) and wished to pursue a career in automotives despite parental objections was something that she and Ben bonded over, and she brought him to the scrapyard her uncle ran where he found work sorting out car parts and helping perform repairs.

He began to pursue art and dance in secret with part of his pay (keeping his sketchbooks and supplies at Memo’s place and taking dance lessons under the guise of after-class study sessions), while saving up the rest and planning for the day he would eventually break free of his father, ‘debt’ or no ‘debt’.

During this time, he subtly packed away important items and was careful not to anger his old man more than his mere presence already did on a good day——something which would become increasingly hard when the Clampdown began.

He would hear his father rant over the dinner table about how ungrateful the protesters who were made up mostly of the Manual Class were, how they weren’t worth the safety net they were demanding for the job they were doing, how they needed to know their place.

He would hear, as time went by, about how his father would beat the ones who were arrested, and more than once, how he would be killed if he, as the man’s son, ever did something as stupid and insolent as that.

He bit his tongue through all this and reluctantly refused Memo’s offer to join a peaceful protest for better wages and workplace compensation.

The protest turned violent after police assaulted those taking part however, and as he watched the news hoping to see if Memo was alright, he saw his friend among those who were tossed into the dreaded black vans to be brought over to stations for interrogation.

His father, fielding a call from a colleague about the batch of protesters being brought in, told them to separate the adults from the teenagers, who would be easier to break, and it was at this point Ben’s spark turned into a bonfire.

As his father got dressed for work, he crept into the man’s study and managed to figure out the combination to the safe where the man’s gun was kept, retrieving it and aiming it at the police sergeant who came in and demanded for him to stand down.

Ben, in turn, demanded for his father to call the station and have Memo released, and when his father laughed at his audacity, mocked the way his hands shook while he was holding the gun and threatened to beat him senseless once this was all over, he shot the man close enough to the head to clip an ear to prove a point, before repeating his demand again.

This time, his father complied and called the station to order for Memo’s release; Ben’s relief however was all the momentary lapse of guard that his father needed to rush in and attempt to wrest the gun back, and in the struggle, he accidentally shot his father in the knee.

Under the hail of threats on how he was going to die once his father got hands on him, Ben flung the gun where the man could not reach, grabbed one of the bags he had secretly packed and ran out of the house to the screams of his mother.

He called Charlie and explained the situation to her, as both of them made their way to the station where his father worked to pick up Memo, who was confused about the state of affairs.

At 18 years, Ben was now a fugitive who could no longer go home; Memo brought him to the manual class district where Ben could hide among allies, and it was here that he spent a few months in hiding, disguised as a manual worker.

However, still fully terrified at the thought of his father eventually hunting him down within the confines of the city, he made plans to leave and head to the West Coast, far away from any chance that he would meet his old man by accident on the streets.

To his surprise, Charlie and Memo elected to join him in the move, and the three of them left together on a Greyhound bus; Him to escape his father, Charlie to escape her future with a military complex which her father died for and Memo to protect his family after he was named a person of interest in the protest.

However, they were forced to stop in Texas when police were inspecting passing buses for runaway Cold Constructs. Here, they met Ian Hart (Ironhide), a rancher secretly helping Cold Constructs escape ownership by crossing over into Mexico to start new lives.

Ian, seeing how they ran from the bus, assumed they were young Cold Constructs and immediately took them in and offered them shelter; when they explained their situation, he kept his offer, letting them stay until they had their plans sorted out and paying them for work done on his ranch in the meantime.

All three of them grew fond of him and spent a month working on his ranch, helping out equally between his longhorn cattle and the Cold Constructs who would come in scared, starving, and seeking refuge from bounty hunters looking to bring them back to the establishments they were assigned to.

Someone however, had gotten wind of Ian’s clandestine operation, and the man was arrested during a midnight raid, though not before he flung Ben, Charlie and Memo into a secret basement with three Cold Constructs who he told them to help cross the border the next day.

They did as they were told, but decided to return to the ranch to figure out how to help Ian, and when they came back there, it was to come face to face with two strangers who were also seeking Ian after seeing him on the news.

These strangers introduced themselves as Omar Parvez (Optimus Prime), Jace Zayden (Jazz) and Preston Wan (Prowl), members of a rebellion that had sprung up in the UK, and upon hearing that they had been with Ian for the past month, requested for their help in tracking the man down to save him from a terrible fate at the hands of government interrogators.

Realising that they were now caught up in something bigger than they ever imagined, Ben nonetheless accepted the request, unwilling to stand back and do nothing while a good man suffered.

Youth, size and a lifetime of abuse would not be an obstacle to him helping someone else, especially with his best friends by his side.

#Maccadam #Humanformers #Bumblebee #Optimus Prime #charlie watson #memo gutierrez #Character Art #tw: abuse #tw: child abuse #tw: gun mention

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zodiakuroo · 4 years ago

Text

Cupid’s Bullet

Dabi comes home with a very special Valentine’s Day surprise for you.

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Contains: dubcon/noncon, mentions of death, unhealthy relationship, gun play, fear play, forced orgasms, squirting, mindbreak, angst (if you squint?), quirk usage, one slap but it’s a hard one :3, overstimulation, creampie

Word count: 5.3k

Notes: pls this title is so cringe but it's like bullet instead of arrow cause... ya know but anyways happy valentine’s day from scumbag boyfie!dabi

Dating a villain meant that your relationship was unconventional to say the least. For one, public dates were out of the question, unless you wanted it to end in destruction of public property and some scorched heroes. You also always had to have some kind of flimsy excuse for your family and friends when they asked to meet your elusive boyfriend. In addition, you had to accept the fact that he would have to disappear sometimes for weeks on end to do his boss’ bidding.

There was also the small matter of arson, murder and theft and a multitude of other crimes that you’d prefer not to know about. And while you weren’t necessarily okay with a lot of what Dabi did, you loved him. You loved him so much that turning a blind eye was so easy it made you question your own morality. He didn’t scare you either. Not in the slightest, because you knew in his own special way, he loved you too.

In fact it ran much deeper than that. On his worst days, Dabi could set the world ablaze until nothing was left because in the end he didn’t care about anyone or anything, not even himself. Until he met you, he says. He tells you that in you, he’s found something to tether him to this existence.

Ok so maybe he didn’t use those words exactly, but he doesn’t have to. You know that’s what he means when he spoils you with expensive, stolen clothes and jewellery, when he offers to burn alive any person who makes you even the tiniest bit upset and when he comes home to you bloodied and beaten, trusting you to take care of him.

In summary, your relationship forced you to give up on having any “normal couple” experiences. That included, celebrating anniversaries and silly holidays like Valentine’s Day so you never bothered to keep track of them. It could hardly be considered a sacrifice when you compared those things to what you actually got from your relationship.

Dabi had been gone for close to a month now and you didn’t expect him back anytime soon, not knowing where he was or what he was doing. In fact the very last thing you expected was for him to creep into your bedroom in the middle of night and rouse you from your peaceful sleep with a soft kiss on your temple.

You don’t jump out of bed in a panic, like any sane person would. Instead you let out a satisfied hum, surrounded by the scent of burnt flesh, ash and menthol, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. It should be unpleasant but its Dabi’s scent and you’ve missed it. You’ve missed him. You pick your phone up from your night stand, squinting your eyes at the bright light that makes them sting.

Sunday 14 February, 2:43am

“Welcome home.” You mumble groggily, trying your best to fight off your tired body urging you to go back to sleep.

Instead of replying, he greets you by pressing his mouth to yours. You let out a quiet gasp, startled by the sudden display of affection. His lips are chapped but that doesn’t matter, your tongue darts out to moisten them before your lips lock into a gentle kiss.

You reach up, weaving your hands through his dark hair in an attempt to draw him closer but he retreats, opting instead to turn on the bedside lamp but keeping his other hand behind his back. “Sit up doll. Got a surprise for ya.”

Any thoughts of sleep were long forgotten as soon as his lips met yours but now he’s really piqued your interest. You push yourself up against the headboard and sit cross-legged. You look up at Dabi expectantly. Your boyfriend is smiling wide, skin pulled so taut you think one of his staples might give out. He reveals to you what he has hidden behind his back. A square black box, wrapped in a cobalt satin ribbon.

It’s so cliché you can’t help but let out a small snort. “What is it?”

“It’s a gift. You know… for Valentine’s Day?” He says as though it should be obvious to you.

Your heart swells at the gesture. It really was a surprise. Not in a bad way, you just knew he wasn’t your average boyfriend and that was okay. You didn’t want him to be.

“Well now I feel awful. I didn’t get you anything.” You pout as he props the box onto your lap.

“’S like a toy… so it’s technically for you but kinda for both of us.” It’s unusual to see Dabi this excited. The way he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes filled with mirth makes you all the more curious.

“Like a sex toy?” A giggle escapes you as you undo the bow.

“Are we playing fuckin’ 20 questions? Just open it.” He presses you.

You huff at his impatience but you don’t comment, not wanting to wait any longer either. You remove the lid of the box only to find something wildly unexpected.

A revolver?

You look up at your boyfriend with confusion etched on your face but his gleeful grin doesn’t falter. You’ve never seen a sex toy like this so you pick up the article to test its weight. It’s definitely the real deal.

“Dabi, this isn’t a toy.” You state matter-of-factly.

He merely rolls his eyes and says “Doll, when you can incinerate someone with a flick of your wrist, that little thing is definitely considered a toy?”

“O-okay? What do you want to do with it?” You ask, placing offending object onto your nightstand, not really wanting to hold on to it anymore, the metallic smell making you feel queasy.

“Ever heard of Russian Roulette?” Dabi, picks up the abandoned item, looking down at it with pride.

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows as nervousness starts to creep into your system and you instinctively move to back away from him but Dabi is quick to pull you back.

“It’s real easy doll. No need to look so scared.” He crawls on top of you, caging you in with his limbs. “6 chambers. 1 bullet. All you have to do is be a good girl for me. If not, I pull the trigger and we see what happens.”

The look on his face is positively demented. Azure eyes wide and bright, patchwork face contorted into a a sinister smile, white teeth and silver staples gleaming in the dim light.

“Baby,” you hope the pet name will placate him. It usually does. “I don’t know about thi-“

CLICK

You let out a shriek as your body jolts in fear but you’re unable to move with his weight pressing on top of you.

“You see now doll?” He clicks his tongue behind his teeth. “You’ve gone and wasted a shot.”

Dabi climbs off of you and you’re left lying there with your heart hammering violently in your chest, body trembling, still reeling from the shock of what just happened. Reeling from the shock of what is happening

“You gonna listen now? Gonna be good?” Dabi prompts, rolling the gun around in his hand.

All you can do is nod as your eyes being to water. The uneasy feeling in your stomach only grows worse as your mind races with the possible things Dabi has in store for you.

“Good. Now strip.” He command and like a good girl, you obey.

Your arms feel like they’re made of lead, moving rigidly to take off your shirt (one of Dabi’s old ones). You can’t stop the tears from falling as you pull down your panties, fat droplets roll down your cheeks, desperately trying to swallow the sounds of your sobbing.

This can’t be happening. It’s Dabi. He wouldn’t hurt you. He promised you that.

“Oh cut the fuckin’ waterworks.” He snaps. “As long as you listen, you’ll be fine.”

You try to calm yourself with deep breaths, not wanting to irritate him any further.

When you turn to face him, he’s leaning back on his haunches, one hand resting on his thigh, the other lazily gripping the revolver. “Fair warning, I’m more of a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ kinda guy. But you know that already.” He thumbs the cylinder, making it spin. “Now, touch yourself for me.”

Breathing is difficult. No matter how much you try, it’s like you can’t get enough air into your lungs. Thinking only of gun in your boyfriend’s hand, you still you bring your own hand between your legs, but you can’t concentrate, what with the dread taking over your body making it tough to have any control of your body. Your movements are stiff and apparently not up to Dabi’s standards.

He only scoffs before-

CLICK

You scream again, body nearly flying off the bed before you curl yourself up into a ball. The fright is enough to stop your heart. For a second you believe it has.

“Doll,” Dabi’s gruff voice brings you back to earth, reminding you that you’re very much alive and whether or not you stay that way is entirely up to him. “You’re ruining my surprise. Got it ‘specially for you and now you’re being a brat.” He quirks an eyebrow at you, almost like a challenge.

“So-sorry.-“ your voice breaks. “I’ll be good.”

You’re still struggling to comprehend how any of this is real. You thought you knew him. You thought he loved you. And here he is, treating your life like it’s a game. You can’t help but think that this is your own fault. You thought you were above everyone else, the exception to your boyfriend’s villain behaviour.

“Yeah?” His voice drops to a whisper. “Then show me.” He challenges you. Dabi slips off his t-shirt and moves between your legs to get a better view, pressing on your knees to split them apart.

Self-preservation kicks in. There is one way out of this alive and that’s doing what he says. You spread yourself even wider, showing him all of you. Your hands, glide over your smooth thighs, kneading the pudgy flesh as you get closer and closer your sex, teasing yourself the way he would. Your fingers find your clit and just a little pressure makes your eyes melt shut. Probably for best anyway. It makes it easier to imagine anything but this. You drag those fingers through your delicate folds, letting out breathy sighs as heat begins to bloom between your thighs.

You pretend, its Dabi’s touch. In your mind’s eye you see the two of you, limbs tangled with Dabi on top, resting his forehead against yours. It’s one of those nights where he wants to go slow. So slow that the sensation of his cock dragging in and out of is you bordering on torturous. It’s one of those nights where he wants to lay his head on your chest, mouthing at your breasts, laving your nipples with his wet tongue while you tell him, in that sensual voice that you love him, that he’s perfect, that he’s yours. Because it’s one of those nights, where everything feels like too much for him and the only person that he really has on his side is you.

It’s not long before you’re leaking. Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, there’s a voice chastising you for being so easy for him… even now. There’s almost no resistance as two of your fingers, press into your entrance. Your fingers are no match for Dabi’s, they never hit all those deep, hidden spots that make you see stars but still, you start to move them slowly, brushing your thumb over your clit every so often.

“Look at me.” You feel his breath waft over your pussy.

Eyelids fluttering open and you meet his gaze. It stuns you a little and your hands come to a standstill. He is handsome, breathtakingly so, even though he thinks you’re lying whenever you when you tell him that. The way he stares at you, with love and adoration in his eyes, it’s almost like the fantasy you were just imagining. Almost like the fantasy you’ve been living in this whole time. It’s enough to make you forget the situation you’re in. Then the muzzle of the gun is pressed to your clit, snapping you back to reality fast enough to give you whiplash.

“Fucking slut.” He growls and smacks your hand away from your pussy.

You jerk as he starts to move it the gun circles over your sensitive nub and then dipping down to your tight slit to gather up your juices.

“All those fuckin’ tears but look how wet you are.” He says more to himself than you as he admires the way your slick leaves a sheen on the barrel. With his eyes trained directly on yours, his perfectly pink tongue pokes out to lick it clean, groaning at the taste.

The next thing you know his arms are wrapped around your legs, guiding them over his broad shoulders. He kisses you on your mons before his tongue begins greedily lapping at your hole. “Tastes so good doll.” He mutters with his nose pressed against your clit. He slips the wet muscle inside of you making you whine. You reflexively grab onto his black hair, tugging on the stands and he lets out a groan of approval. He moves up to your clit, circling it with his tongue before suckling on it. While he brushes just the tip of a finger over your cunt, making it clench around nothing while you desperately buck your hips, in an attempt to have it inside you.

The way he’s eating you out is almost romantic?

Or it would be, if it weren’t for the metal digging into your flesh.

“Doll,” He places a sloppy kiss on your clit, lighting dragging his teeth over the hood. “Want you to squirt for me.”

A lump forms in your throat. You can count on one hand the amount of times that has happened. You’re not sure of the odds that you’d be able to right now and it’s not a gamble you’re willing to take. “Dabi, I don’t think I can….”

CLICK

You thrash, screaming so loud it makes your throat burn.

Dabi still holds you open, keeping you in place. “I wasn’t asking.” He makes sure to maintain eye contact as he drops a fat glob of spit right on to your clit before diving face first into your cunt once again.

He pushes 2 of his long, lithe fingers into your tight entrance. It’s unexpected and you wince. He drags his right hand (the one holding the gun) up your torso, resting the muzzle underneath your breast, right over your racing heart. A reminder of what’s at stake. He envelopes your sensitive clit with his lips, moving his fingers in tandem with the suction. You’re consumed by desire as Dabi brings you so close to the edge.

“Dee-Deeper please.” Your pant out.

He smiles against your mound before complying with your request. “Right here?” His fingers press against that squishy patch deep inside you and your eyes roll back.

“Nnnggg yeah.” You’re barely able to mewl out. You dig your heels into his back and grind against his face, chasing your high. Dabi keeps hitting that spot with astonishing precision but you hold off for as long as you can, letting the pleasurable sensation build until the pressure in your core becomes unbearable. When it finally snaps because you can’t hold it anymore, your eyes squeeze shut, hands flying to his biceps and you dig your nails into the sinewy muscle. You gush around his fingers and all over his face. Dabi doesn’t move though, flicking your clit with his tongue repeatedly until you’re trembling and whimpering, pushing him away from your pussy. He finally relents, a pop echoing around the room as he lets go of you.

He gives you a predatory look, scared face and chest wet with the remnants of your orgasm. “You made such a mess baby but I’m glad you’re finally having fun.” He’s just as out of breath as you are but far more composed.

Your head is still fuzzy and limbs are still twitching but your boyfriend doesn’t let you recover. “C’mon, doll. My turn.” He begins to undo his belt, silver buckle clinking as he rushes to drag it through the loops of his jeans

You pull yourself on to all fours, now eye level with his crotch. He pulls down his pants and boxers in one go, his erection almost hitting you in the face.

“You’ve been lucky so far.” He taps the bulbous head of his cock on your lips, smearing your lips with the pre that dribbles out of it. “But I wouldn’t test it if I were you. Open.”

Your mouth is already watering at the sight of him. So long, thick and veiny. It’s disgusting actually, this Pavlovian response. He fucks you deeper, stretches you wider and makes you feel better than anyone ever had. You wonder briefly, if anyone ever could fuck you as good as Dabi.

You stick out your tongue and he slides himself between your lips, groaning as he pushes into your mouth, slowly, inch by inch. He fills your mouth completely and you shut your eyes, savouring the salty taste of him but you feel the muzzle press against your temple and making them shoot open. “Atta girl. Lemme see those pretty eyes.” He grunts as he plunges into your throat. You bob your head up and down his shaft, the hand at the back of your head setting a brutal pace. The room is filled with the sounds of you gagging and his hefty sac smacking against your chin.

“So good to me baby.” He tilts his head back, losing himself in the pleasure. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding him while your saliva leaks out, dripping down his balls. Dabi is big and heavy, stretching you so wide and making you jaw ache from the weight of him. You’re already lightheaded from the lack of air, no matter how much you try breathing through your nose. You don’t dare to complain though.

He pulls out of your mouth slowly, stretching a string of saliva from the head of his dick to your tongue that’s hanging out of your mouth. You pant like a bitch attempting to catch your breath. He doesn’t give you much time before he’s in your throat again, back to fucking your face.

“I love you so much. You love me?” He sounds so sweet, totally blissed out.

He stops thrusting and tilts your head up to look at him, blinking tear-clumped lashes. You try utter a ‘Yes, I love you.’ but with his shaft gagging you, it comes out all garbled. The muscles in your throat convulse around the deep intrusion. “You’d do anything for me right?” He asks, jabbing the muzzle even harder into your temple, finger resting lightly on the trigger. You nod, watching Dabi lose his composure bit by bit. “Yeah. That’s why you’re my girl.” He pushes himself even deeper inside you, making you finally take all of him, until your nose meets his pubic hair and holding you there. “Fuck.”

CLICK

“Hmmhhhhngggh” You squeal around him but you can’t pull off because of the grip he has on your scalp. When he lets you go you’re choking and coughing up a lewd mixture of spit and pre-cum.

“Wh- Why” You blubber, voice hoarse. You don’t understand. You were doing exactly what he asked. You were being good.

“Sorry baby. Felt so good, my finger slipped.” He doesn’t even try to hide his mischievous smirk. The fucker is definitely not sorry.

You want to beg him to stop this ridiculous game because you see now there’s no way you can win because Dabi doesn’t play fair.

He doesn’t give you the chance though, already shuffling off his bottoms all the way and propping himself up against the headboard. “C’mon pretty baby.” He tugs on your ankle. Wanna see you bounce on my dick.”

You clumsily position yourself atop his lap quickly, before you can even think about it. You know he doesn’t need a reason to pull that trigger but still, you don’t want to give him one.

He grinds his tip along your heat, piercings dragging across your clit over and over again. It’s something he does whenever you have sex, to rile you up. And just like all those other times, it’s working. Circumstances be damned. “Needa feel this hot little pussy. Give it to me doll.” He murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You nod as you lift yourself off of him to hover your dripping wet hole over his hard dick. You slowly squat down on onto him, the fat head stretching you out, burning with every inch you take. You mewl, making futile attempts to blink away tears. You get halfway before you have to stop, resting your hands on his shoulders trying to gain leverage. You’re outright crying now, wet droplets landing on Dabi’s chest.

“’S matter doll.”

I’m terrified. You yell in your head but stay silent, choosing to focus on relaxing your ever-tightening hole in order to take more of him.

“Oh, I know.” He coos, voice dripping with condescension. “’S too big for your tiny cunny.” He leans forward to kiss away the salty tears. “But you can take it. I know you can.” He cups your jaw, stroking your cheek with a calloused thumb. “You can do it for me”

You start to move slowly up and down, using gravity to force more of his monstrous cock inside you with shallow movements. You really are trying your best but that’s apparently not good enough for Dabi and he lets you know that by pressing the barrel of the gun into your stomach. You freeze, horrified, more tears start falling from your eyes. You open your mouth to beg him to just give you a little time. You’re trying.

“Quit being a baby and just take it.” He says before you even get the chance.

“I’m trying Dabi, please just-“

CLICK

He cuts off your plea. He’s not interested in your excuses.

The rotation of the cylinder sends vibrations through your abdomen. Amidst the shock, you release your grip on his shoulders and impale yourself on his shaft by mistake. The combination of the searing stretch and the blunt head of his cock kissing your cervix is so overwhelming that you collapse forward, head falling on to your boyfriend’s chest. You feel the rumbles of his chuckles while he’s quite literally splitting you open.

“See? Knew you could. Just needed a little scare. Isn’t that right.” He rubs your back as if to comfort you. He lets out a low whistle. “But looks like you’re all out of chances doll. Now bounce.” He gives you a spank with an inhumanly warm hand, making you squeal and leaving your cheek tender.

Your hands find purchase on his shoulders again. Dabi’s sapphire eyes are practically glowing, daring you to be stupid enough to defy him one more time.

You pull off almost entirely, keeping just his tip inside of you, before spearing his shaft into you again.

“Good girl.” When he praises you with that raspy voice makes you keen and desperate for more of it.

His hand snakes its way up your torso to cup one of your breasts. Your back arches, pushing into his scorching hot touch, forgetting momentarily about his other hand and what he’s holding in it. He gropes your chest, tweaks and twists at your nipples, leaving red, inflamed hand prints in his wake. You’re practically delirious with pleasure, babbling out incoherent streams of his name along with “yes” and “more”. All the while, he murmurs praises about how good you are and how much he loves you. It’s confusing and you can’t process any of it.

“Who owns this perfect pussy?”

“Dabi. Fuck. Dabi.” Your tongue lolls out of your mouth in the most obscene way, drooling down your chin. Your plush walls pulse around him as he hits that sensitive spot every time you sink down on him.

“That’s right it’s all fuckin mine. My pretty baby.” Dabi’s eyes are focus on where your two bodies are connected watching the translucent ring of your cream appear and disappear as you ride him.

“Preeeettyyy.” You slur and he laughs at how fucked out you are, brain completely jumbled between the fear, the pain and the bliss all combined into ecstasy.

“Doll.” He groans. “I feel ya squeezin’ me. You gonna cum?”

He’s right. You nod as you feel that coil tightening again, threatening to snap at any second. The man finally starts putting in work, pounding into you every time you pull off of him. Dabi abandons the gun in favour of playing with your clit, rubbing quick sloppy circles. “Yeah? Gonna cream and gush around me? Want you to baby.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, sucking, biting and licking while he assaults your sopping wet pussy. “C’mon doll, please.”

With that you orgasm. He grabs your hips pulling you flush against his thighs, fucking you through your orgasm, rolling his hips up into you until your high finally subsides.

He doesn’t let you catch your breath before he’s got the revolver pressed hard underneath your chin. “Now make me cum.” You almost collapse but the harsh grip he has on your hair suspends you upright.

Your mind is so foggy and Dabi gives you a small smile, appreciating the perplexed look in your droopy eyes. But he’s not done with you yet.

“Hey.” You’re ripped from your daze, when he slaps you across the face, sending your head swinging to the side. “Don’t pass out on me now.”

“So-sorry! ‘M sorry!” You grovel as you slam your tired body down on his dick once again, trying to ignore the throbbing on your cheek, the ringing in your ears, and the ache in your battered cunt. You’re so sensitive from your last orgasm but you don’t have a choice and you don’t dare deny him anything. Your thighs are quaking and burning with every movement but your boyfriend is unimpressed.

“You can do better than that doll.” He lets out a bitter laugh, enjoying every second of tormenting you. “It’s like you want your brains splattered on the ceiling.”

You start crying again, shaking your head frantically. In the time that you’ve been with Dabi, you’ve learned certain tricks, you know he likes it, but in this panic/lust induced frenzy, you can’t remember any of them. Instead, you bounce, mindlessly on him while your gummy walls clench tighter around him every time he nudges at your a-spot. Your legs are going numb from all the effort and you plop down, limp onto his lap, taking him to the hilt.

Dabi tsks at you, reminding you that you can’t rest just yet. You swivel your hips, grinding your pelvis against his while he’s buried deep in your wet heat. You pray to whatever deity is listening that he’s getting close, you’re not sure how much more you can take.

“If I don’t bust in the next 5 seconds.” His hand finds your clit again, you grind across his fingers has you rock against him. ��Bang!” He emphasises the word by bringing a heated palm down on your ass.

A choked sob bubbles at the back of your throat, making him snicker

Hands pressed to his chest, you ride him like a woman possessed, the last bits of adrenaline kicking in. Your sloppy cunt squelches every time you drive yourself down on his cock just motivating you to fuck him harder.

“Five.” He grits out.

“Dabi, please!” But you’re met with icy, apathetic eyes staring back at you, feeling the terror that the rest of the city does when they so much as hear his name.

“Four.” He rubs your already raw clit, faster and you can feel another orgasm building, much quicker than your last two.

Your body feels so heavy but you can’t stop moving, not unless you want him to- “Please cum!” You beg. “Need your cum.”

“Three.”

He starts to fuck up into you again with unforgiving force.

“Wh-Why?!” is all you can manage as your mind starts to fog up again, the need to come becoming all the more urgent.

“Two.” He ignores your question, transfixed on your tits bounce in his face. You’re getting close to your third orgasm of the night and it seems Dabi is determined to get you there.

You still can’t believe this is real. You never thought that Dabi would treat you like this. You were supposed to be special.

Or at least that’s what he told you.

Moreover, you can’t believe how your own body is betraying you. You can’t believe you’re actually going to cum. Again.

“One.”

You cry out his name one last time, unsure if it’s out of fear or pleasure. You dig your nails into his arms again, in a feeble attempt to ground yourself as you cum around him. The orgasm that rips through you makes it difficult for you to be sure of anything.

What you are sure of is the fact that there was no bang or bullet.

Just one last CLICK (practically drowned out by your screaming) and the sensation of Dabi’s hot cum flooding your womb. He has a bruising grip on your hips, gun now discarded, and he ruts up into to making sure to stuff your cunt absolutely full of him. He begins to laugh as he softens inside you.

Your head is still spinning but once you’re able to push yourself off of him, you can finally make sense of what just happened.

He was fucking with you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You yell, using weak and quivering arms to throw pillows at him while you cry so hard it makes you dry heave.

Your asshole of a boyfriend starts cackling, clutching his abdomen as if he just pulled the world’s funniest prank while your heart is beating so hard and fast you think it might break through your ribcage.

“You should have seen your face. You were so fuckin’ scared.”

You become nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat as you come to a sickening realisation.

This is not your Dabi. This is the Dabi that the rest of the world gets to see.

Evil, sadistic, merciless. This is the real Dabi.

You attempt to scramble off of the bed to get away from him, feeling overwhelmed by the humiliation. But Dabi grabs your wrist and yanks you into his chest, wrapping you up in his arms. A gesture you used to treasure but now it just made your skin crawl. “C’mon Doll you didn’t think I was being serious did you?”

You writhe in his hold, hitting against his hard, toned chest with pathetic fists. “Don’t be such a crybaby. It was just a joke.” He strokes your hair oh so tenderly. But you won’t fall for that again. Dabi is a villain through and through. You know that now.

It’s no use fighting him off though, all the fight in you is used up. You don’t know what else to do. So you do the easy thing: nuzzle your head into his chest, tremors rocking your body as you hiccup, while he holds you. That way you can pretend that you feel safe with him, just like you used to.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, doll. I love you.”

#dabi is just the worst huh #sorry about the angst i honestly don’t know how that happened #dark content #dark fic #mha smut #tw dubcon #bnha imagines #bnha smut #dabi imagine #dabi smut #dabi x reader #mha x reader #tw slapping #tw noncon #tw unhealthy relationship #tw gunplay #tw death mention

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writemywaytoyourheart · 4 years ago

Text

Aim For The Heart | Chapter 3: Plan B

Pairing: hitman!jk x female reader

Genre: E2L, romance, drama, angst

WC: 5.1k

Warnings for this chapter: language (jk will continue to have a potty mouth), a gun, attempted murder

Tag list; @hopekookies @moonchild1 @barbellastyles98 @teresaisla @ggukkieland @mwitsmejk @scuzmunkie @sugaslittlekookies @jaebeomsblackgf @moon-asia

summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.

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"Excuse m-me, sir."

Jungkook turns and his heart stops in his chest when he sees the wide eyes of a horribly familiar girl staring up at him.

You're clutching a piece of paper in your hands as a smile spreads on your face when you look at him closer. Jungkook blinks a few times, the rest of him frozen in horror at being caught.

"Th-This is for you." You hold out the paper.

Jungkook takes it limply, his eyes never leaving yours.

When the initial shock leaves his body, he tears his eyes away from you and looks down at what you gave him. He squints in confusion at what he sees. Then he looks back up at his target.

What the hell is this?

"Uh-"

"I hope it isn't c-creepy. I j-just thought it might make you s-smile." You brighten when he looks back down at the picture.

Jungkook swallows thickly.

On the piece of notebook paper, is a terribly drawn picture. But that isn't what's gotten his attention. On it, is an image of what he can only guess to be himself, sitting on a bench.

He looks back up at you, "Um, I don't understand..." His voice gives out on him as he fights the urge to bolt. Everything about this situation is telling him to run. You know him. You've known he was following you.

But you aren't outright telling him that you know...

What the hell does he do now?

You smile shyly, a small blush creeping up your cheeks. "I know it m-must seem weird. But p-please let m-me explain."

He nods uncertainly, forcing his feet to stay planted where he is.

"Ok," You wring your hands together and he watches in confusion as you blink a few times. "O-Ok, I like to d-draw. And sometimes when I d-don't have anything else to draw, I draw p-people. Then I give them the p-picture as a present to make them h-happy!" You bounce a little on the balls of your feet.

"But-..." Jungkook scratches his neck. "When did you do this?" He's starting to think maybe he's out of the line of fire. Perhaps he jumped to conclusions and you don't suspect him of following you at all.

You put a finger to your chin as you think about that. Then you tap your cheek, blinking hard a few times. "Mmm, I think it was Wednesday? Maybe Thursday..." You start mumbling to yourself.

Jungkook raises a brow, watching you curiously.

He looks around, no one seems to be paying attention to the two of you. Good, he can't be seen as one of the last people to be with you.

You suddenly speak up again, drawing his attention back to you.

"W-Well, anyway. I decided to m-make it and give it to you b-because you looked sad. Are y-you lonely?" You look up at him with big eyes and he blinks, looking away for a second to regain his composure.

Damn, she's nosy.

Jungkook clears his throat and looks back at you, "I'm not lonely. And as much as I appreciate the thought, I don't need this." Then he shoves the picture into your chest, making you flinch and grab it.

"Have a good day." He says curtly, then he turns and walks as quickly as he can away from the situation.

After a minute of walking, Jungkook breathes a sigh of relief to be out of that. He messed up. Now he really needs to get this done quickly before the target figures anything out for real this time.

The relief is short-lived though. A second later, he flinches when he hears a voice calling out to him and the sound of feet running.

"Wait! Mister, p-please wait!"

Jungkook pulls his hat down further and picks up his pace, trying to find a crowd he can lose you in.

He's squeezing in-between people and pushing past others, ignoring their sounds of annoyance. Then a hand grabs the sleeve of his jacket and he internally groans.

Shit, she's fast.

Jungkook shakes you off of him and turns to glare at you.

"What?" He snaps.

You blink and cock your head to the side for a second before straightening it out, a crooked smile forming on your face.

"I w-wasn't able to introduce m-myself." You state simply.

Jungkook audibly sighs, "Look, I'm busy."

"Oh." Your face falls and he resists the urge to roll his eyes.

You look at the ground for a second, then you look back at him, your eyes bright again and the smile back on your face. "P-Please, take the picture. I have n-no room in my bag f-for it."

Jungkook sighs again and snatches the picture out of your hands, "Fine. Happy?" He waves it in the air before folding it and sticking it in his jacket pocket.

You nod happily, "My n-name is ____."

I know.

"Alright." He looks away, trying to give you the hint that he's done with the conversation.

"What's y-your name?"

Gosh, she never shuts up, does she?

"Jungkook."

...

...Fuck.

Why in the literal hell would he say his real name just now?

He wasn't thinking. He just wanted you to shut up.

You see the look of pure panic on his face and laugh to make him feel better, "Nice t-to meet you, J-Jungkook." He must have trouble talking with people, you think.

"Ok, well yeah, it was nice to meet you. Thank you for the picture. Goodbye." He turns and all but runs off, finally disappearing into a crowd.

You watch him go into the big crowd and you smile, he was so kind. Giggling and looking down at your fingers, you turn and start making your way home. _______________

Jungkook hauls ass all the way back to his place, constantly making sudden turns and glancing around to make sure you're not hot on his heels.

When he finally makes it up the stairs and into his apartment, he locks the door and yanks his shoes off, hurling them at the front door and flinching when they slam against it loudly.

There aren't enough curse words in his vocabulary for him to scream into his pillow that would satisfy him right now. He starts to shake, the adrenaline pumping through his veins as his brain goes into overdrive trying to figure out what to do now.

He's never been caught.

Not once.

He's never even been close to getting caught.

In and out, one and done.

That's how it's always been for him.

Jungkook takes his hat off and tosses it onto the tiny dining table, then he walks over to his bed and flops onto it, face down.

"I quit." He mumbles into the comforter forlornly.

Then he lays there for a minute, contemplating everything.

"I can't quit..." He mutters to himself a second later.

It's impossible.

He can't quit.

He just needs to get it over with tonight.

No more hesitating, no more distractions, no more overthinking. It doesn't matter that she saw his face and knows his name. She'll be dead by morning anyway, and it's not like her friend is here for her to tell anything about him to.

Once he's calmed himself down enough to think clearly, Jungkook gets up and moves to his closet to pull out the safe. He puts in the code and it swings open when he gives it a little tug. He takes out the gun that he failed to use the other night, then he unloads it, pouring the little bullets onto his bed. Jungkook counts them before reloading them, then he dumps them out again, counting them before once again reloading them.

He does this whenever he needs to think, it helps him concentrate. When he's unloaded and reloaded it four times, he's finally able to take a deep breath. He sits on the edge of his bed, his head hanging for a minute before he lifts it and stares at the wall. _______________

When you get home, you kick your shoes off and head straight to the kitchen to grab a snack. You grab a little drinkable yogurt and grin as you open it up and take a sip.

Then you move to sit on your couch, still gently sipping your yogurt. When you're almost halfway done with your snack, you pull out your phone and text Mina.

You 4:32- Mina, I met someone today ^-^

Then you toss your phone next to you and grab your TV remote, turning it on you quickly find the drama you're currently binging and you hit play.

After a few minutes, you hear your phone bling. You pause the show and grab it to see Mina has answered you.

Mina 4:40- YOU WHAT? WHO

You laugh quietly and you're typing a reply when a picture of you and Mina making silly faces pops up on the screen and the ringtone you made special for her starts ringing. You answer it quickly, laughing when she shouts through the phone immediately.

"WAS IT A BOY??" She shrieks, almost breaking your eardrums.

"Y-Yeah." You can feel the blush creeping up your neck at her next words.

"Is he cute? Is he single?"

"M-Mina!" You cry in embarrassment, "It isn't l-like that."

You hear a disappointed sigh leave her lips, "Well, what is it like then?" She asks in curiosity.

"I gave him a p-picture that I drew. He t-took it, Mina! He didn't say I was c-creepy like the other girl did." You're grinning from ear to ear.

She laughs quietly as she realizes what this is about. "Ohh, so you drew a picture of him and gifted it to him?"

"Yup!"

"That's so sweet of you, ____. And he actually took it?"

You nod, then remember she can't see you.

"Y-Yes, he took it. He said th-thank you, and he told m-me his name!"

Mina laughs again at your excitement, "What's his name?"

"Jungkook."

"Ohhh," There's a teasing hint to her tone, "Sounds like a name fit for a cute guy. So, was he cute?"

You bite your lip then whisper, "Uh, yes. He was c-cute."

"Awww! ____ has her first cruuuush!" Mina shrieks again and you shake your head.

"No, Mina. I d-don't have a crush on h-him! I just thought he was n-nice. He seemed like he would m-make a good friend." You pull at the hem of your skirt, your knees tucked up to your chin.

You hear her giggle on the other side, then her tone turns serious. "Ok, you're right ____. No man is good enough to date my sweet best friend. Don't you dare pursue him until I get there and give my approval!"

You roll your eyes, "I'm not going to p-pursue him at all, silly."

You two chat for a couple of minutes, then you let her go because you both need to figure something out for dinner soon.

You decide to finish the episode of the drama, but you can't resist and watch a few more after it. By the time you're able to peel your eyes away from the TV, the sun is starting to go down. You rub your eyes in confusion, I didn't realize how many episodes I watched.

You stretch your arms above your head and yawn, "Ah, I should g-get some d-dinner," You stand up to go to your kitchen and scrounge around. You come up with a few pieces of celery, half a jar of kimchi, and one hard-boiled egg.

You scrunch your nose at the emptiness of the fridge. You'll just have to go to the grocery store tomorrow. But until then, you decide to just go out and get something to eat for dinner and maybe find something for your lunch tomorrow.

You pull your tennis shoes on and grab your bucket hat, plopping it onto your head. It doesn't go with the rest of your pastel outfit, but you don't really care. If it's comfy, then it's a win for you.

Then you take your bag and sling it over your shoulder. Remembering to lock the door, you leave and head down the stairs. _______________

Jungkook thanks the man at the food stand as he takes the fishcake skewer and hands his money to the man. Then he bows and turns to make his way through the crowds of people that always come out at night in Seoul.

He finds a bench in a park a little ways from the hustle and bustle of the city, so he sits there and takes a deep breath of the crisp evening air. Jungkook takes a bite of his fishcake, chewing it thoughtfully as he goes over the new plan of action in his head.

A few people pass by while he sits there, one of them is a small girl with her mother. She reminds Jungkook of that little girl, Mi-Rah, from the other day. His throat constricts when he remembers the child's words to him. Then he scoffs and takes another bite of fishcake, chewing it aggressively. If that annoying kid hadn't distracted him, he wouldn't be sitting out here right now trying to come up with a new plan...stupid.

Jungkook finishes his food, then he stretches his long limbs out, grunting from exhaustion. This hit is really taking a mental toll on him for literally no reason at all. He can't wait to be done with it.

He rubs his hands together and stands up, stretching a bit more before heading in the direction of the target's home.

He's going to finish this.

Tonight.

When Jungkook is a few blocks from her apartment, he slows down and glances around before slipping into the dark alleyway from the other night. Once he's in the dark, he slips the gun from his pocket and checks the bullets. It's an obsessive thing at this point, but it makes him feel more secure.

He slides the last bullet back in, then-

"Jungkook?"

The gun clatters to the ground with a loud sound as Jungkook whips around to see the one person he doesn't want to see at this moment.

Gosh fucking damn it all to hell.

You're standing there, looking up at him from under your bucket hat. Jungkook scans you quickly, noticing you're still in your light yellow skirt and pink blouse from earlier. You have some bags in your hands as you smile at him.

You don't seem to have taken notice of the fact that he literally just dropped the gun he was going to shoot you with. So, Jungkook quickly kicks it to the side, relieved when it slides behind a bag of trash.

"Uhm, hi...____, right?" It takes all his willpower not to fumble over his words after being caught for the second time on the same day.

You nod happily at the fact that he remembered your name, "Yes! F-Funny to run into y-you again!"

Jungkook chuckles dryly, "Yeah, what a coincidence."

You gesture to him with one of the bags in your hands, "D-Do you live n-near here?"

Jungkook's nose twitches, but he keeps a straight face. "No, I just...I was out for a walk."

"Ohh! Night walks are th-the best."

"Mhm.." Jungkook looks around, trying to figure out what he should do. Maybe he should just do it now...yeah, that's the best idea.

"So, what did you buy?" Jungkook asks suddenly, gesturing towards your bags. You take the bait instantly and brighten, bending down to place your bags on the ground so you can show him.

The second you aren't looking, Jungkook crouches and grabs the gun from behind the trash bag he kicked it towards.

"Well, now. L-Let me see." You're crouched on your heels, looking through the bags. Jungkook cocks the gun and raises it, his finger on the trigger.

"I've g-got an apple, that was from the k-kind old woman at the fruit s-stand-"

He's about to pull it when another voice rings out in the alley.

"Miss ___! Is that you?"

Jungkook quickly brings the gun down, switching it to safety and stuffing it into the front of his pants. Clearly, he isn't thinking straight right now.

You look up at that moment and glance behind Jungkook before a smile of recognition lights up your face. "Ohh! Mr. Ch-Chang! What are y-you doing out this l-late at night?"

Jungkook bites his lip in pure frustration and turns to see an older man smiling at the pair of you. "I was taking my trash out, and I thought I'd heard your voice coming from over here."

You grab your bags and scoot past Jungkook to greet the older man properly, "It's s-so nice to see you. It's b-been a l-long time!"

Mr. Chang smiles and nods, "It has indeed. And who is this handsome young fellow?"

He looks around you at Jungkook, who screams internally, not knowing anything that could make this situation worse.

"That's m-my new friend, Jungkook."

Oh, ok. So, that makes it worse. Good.

Not only was his plan foiled, but this old man now has a visual and a name to put to someone should anything happen to you.

Great, just great.

"Ah, it's very nice to meet you, Jungkook." Mr. Chang holds out a shaky hand and Jungkook takes it and gives it a shake. "Oh, this one's got a good shake." The old man winks at you and you laugh.

Jungkook forces a smile onto his face.

He's always been good at charming people, that's what makes him so good at his job.

"It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Chang." He says politely.

"Well, very good. Very good. What do you say we all get out of this creepy old alley? Let's get into the light." Mr. Chang leads you and Jungkook out until the street lamps pour golden artificial light onto the three of you. Jungkook wants to flinch away, it feels like the light is exposing all the dirty little secrets he's got hidden away.

But he remains stoic.

You and the man exchange a few words before Mr. Chang clears his throat, "Alright dear, I really am an old man, I must be heading to bed. Jungkook," Jungkook looks up from where he was staring at the ground, "Hm?"

"Be a good lad and walk my young friend home?" He looks at Jungkook with such kind and trusting eyes that Jungkook finds himself looking away.

"Of course." He mumbles.

This man doesn't suspect a thing. He has no idea that the guy he's asking to protect his friend is the one that was about to kill her for a hefty price, and would have if he hadn't been interrupted.

"Thank you. You two stay safe and I'll see you again, ___."

"Goodnight, M-Mr. Chang!" You wave to him as he slowly makes his way around the corner. Then you turn to Jungkook and smile.

Jungkook briefly wonders if your cheeks ever get sore from smiling all the time.

"I l-live this way." You raise an arm to the right, the bag hanging from it dangles. Jungkook nods, then he starts to walk. You need to jog to catch up to him, his long legs take huge strides as he hurries down the street.

The walk is silent, you sensing that Jungkook isn't really in the mood to talk. But it takes a lot of willpower for you not to start asking him different questions to get to know him more.

When you've finally reached the stairs that lead up to your apartment, you huff in a breath.

"Hoo, I'm so t-tired." You laugh.

Jungkook looks at you, his face unchanging.

You hold up a bag, "Would y-you mind carrying th-this up for me? I'm sorry, it's gotten so h-heavy during the walk. And I n-never walk that f-fast."

Jungkook takes the bag with a sigh, then he turns and hurries up the stairs, leaving you to huff and puff up them slowly behind him.

When you reach your door, Jungkook sets the bag down on the ground and turns to leave, "Have a good night." He mumbles.

"W-Wait!"

He turns back to you, biting back another sigh.

"Th-Thank you...for today." You say softly, a hint of a smile on your lips.

"No problem." He says quickly before hurrying down the stairs and disappearing around a corner.

You unlock your door and bring in the bags, lugging them to the kitchen to start unpacking them. As you put the stuff you bought where it belongs in the kitchen, you think back on your day.

It's so crazy that when you were so lonely without Mina, you were able to talk to someone new! A spark of hope comes alive in your chest that maybe you've just made a new friend. Hopefully, you'll see him again and you can learn more about him.

You're so curious to know more about this dark and lonely stranger. _______________

Jungkook opens the door to his apartment, walking in slowly.

He shuts the door and locks it, then he pulls off his shoes and drops them by the front door. After that, he walks over to his bed, pulls his pants and shirt off, then climbs into bed.

Wrapped up in his covers, Jungkook stares straight ahead into the darkness.

"How the hell am I going to do this?" He whispers numbly.

His head is spinning with new plans and everything that's happened today, but he can't grasp a single one of those thoughts as they race by.

Hours pass by as Jungkook tries desperately to get his head clear enough for him to focus. Eventually, he passes out from pure exhaustion, falling into a fitful sleep.

The next morning, the sun slips through the blinds. The birds are just starting to sing their morning songs, their pretty little voices waking up the rest of the world.

Jungkook shoots straight up in bed, "That's it!" He shouts, then he claps his hand over his mouth, remembering how thin the walls are in this apartment complex.

A smirk spreads across his face as he takes his hand down, "Ah, thank goodness." Jungkook almost laughs out loud in relief at finding another solution.

He jumps out of bed and runs to the shower. It ends up being the shortest shower he's ever taken, he doesn't have any time to waste.

When he gets out, Jungkook grabs a bottle of chocolate milk and a banana before hurrying to get dressed and out the door. _______________

Jungkook arrives at the school before you, so he gets a paper and sits on the bench, as usual, waiting for you to appear.

It only takes ten minutes of waiting until he spots you across the street. Jungkook smiles to himself and waits patiently. Sure enough, you glance across the street and see him looking at you.

You feel a warm spark in your chest when you see your new friend sitting on the bench across the street from the school. You wave happily, delighted when he smiles and waves back. Then, he stands up and jogs across the street until he's standing right in front of you.

"Good morning, ____."

"Hi, J-Jungkook!" The smile on his face makes your cheeks warm as you look down at your feet.

Then you look back at him, "H-Hey, would you l-like to hang out t-today?" You ask suddenly, but hopefully, afraid he might turn you down instantly.

Instead, Jungkook's smile grows and he nods, "Sure. I'll meet you out here when you're off work."

"O-Ok." You grin at him, not expecting him to agree so fast. Then you look at the time, "I have t-to go. I'll see you l-later."

He waves as you turn and hurry into the school.

Jungkook can't stop the smirk from coming as he watches you disappear into the doors of the school. If you insist on talking to him and making him your friend, then he'll just have to go along with it. _______________

"Alright, m-my little ducklings! Time t-to pack up!" You clap your hands to get their attention. They all listen immediately, moving to get their bags put together and ready for home.

A few minutes later, the school bell rings, signaling the end of the day.

The kids squeal with happiness and you feel your own rush of excitement, remembering that you have a new friend to spend the rest of your day with. The kids get into line quickly and you give them each a punch in their reward cards as they file out the door.

The second you step out of the school, leading the line of little ducklings behind you, you glance across the street, but you don't see Jungkook sitting there.

You try not to think too much about it and focus on getting the kids into the correct lines for the busses.

You wave to Joon Woo as he climbs into his father's car. He and his dad wave to you and smile before driving away.

Then you look across the street again, but there still isn't any sign of Jungkook.

You bite your lip before turning and walking into the school.

Gathering your things, you think about all the things you and Jungkook might be able to do to pass the time. You're so consumed in your thoughts that you don't notice the knock on your door. The second time the person knocks, louder this time, you hear it.

"C-Come in!" You call out, sorting the last bits of the worksheets that the kids did today. The door opens and Mr. Baek from class A walks in.

You look up and smile at him, "Good afternoon, Mr. B-Baek. How can I h-help you?"

He glares down his long nose at you, "Did you give any thought to what I said last week?"

"Um..."

What did he say last week...?

Oh...

"Oh, uhm. Mr. Baek, I still d-don't understand."

"What do you not understand about it?" He snaps.

You flinch, then set down the stack of papers and stand up while grabbing your bag. "I th-thought maybe you'd had a b-bad day-"

Mr. Baek scoffs loudly, cutting you off.

"You aren't that dense, sweetheart."

The way he says that makes your stomach turn, "Ok, I'm s-sorry that you're upset. I h-have s-somewhere to be. If y-you'll excuse me."

You move around him and hurry out of the room before he can say anything else. You really aren't sure what's gotten into him, but you're going to avoid him until he's over it.

When you walk down the steps to the school, you look around, but Jungkook isn't anywhere to be seen. You try not to let it get to you, this has happened before.

The only person who has ever followed through on plans with you is Mina.

You blink a few times, then you start making your way home.

"Going home so soon?"

You turn to see Jungkook standing behind you.

A smile spreads on your face at the sight of him. "I thought y-you'd left." You say slowly.

He shakes his head and steps closer to you, " I always keep my promises."

You feel your chest lift at his words, finally someone that isn't going to leave you hanging. Then you readjust the bag on your shoulder, "W-What would you like t-to do?"

Jungkook frowns when he notices something off about you. He knows it's none of his business and he doesn't really care, but he's curious.

"Did something happen?" He asks, taking you by surprise, "You look kind of upset."

At that, you smile bigger, "N-Nothing happened! I'm f-fine."

"Ok." Jungkook doesn't buy it, but he doesn't push you any further. He doesn't care enough to.

"So, w-what did you w-want to do?" You ask again, relieved he doesn't continue to ask you what's wrong.

"You pick." Jungkook gives you a small smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

You decide to ignore that and clap your hands together, "W-Well, I'm hungry! How about we g-get some food?"

Jungkook nods, "Food sounds great, do you know any good places?"

You laugh and try to send him a wink, though it's the worst wink he's ever seen. "Oh boy, I know e-exactly what we c-can eat."

Jungkook gestures forward, "Lead the way."

The two of you talk about the weather as you stroll through the city, making your way to one of your favorite food carts. You don't have much to talk about besides that. You're trying to come up with some questions to ask him once you've got your food.

Once you arrive at the steamed bun cart, you break into a little run. Jungkook watches you skip over and jump in place once you're in line.

She acts like a kid.

He shakes his head but hurries over to you anyway.

You tell him all your favorite kinds and he suggests you get them because they sound good to him too. When you take your card out to pay, Jungkook beats you to it. He hands the man some cash before you can even blink.

"Oh, y-you don't have to do th-that."

"I know." He says simply, thanking the man once he hands him the bag of buns and his change.

You two walk to the park that he had followed you to the other day and find a spot on the green grass. You plop down and pat the spot next to you, indicating that he should sit as well. Jungkook sits down and hands you the bag.

"Th-Thank you for b-buying it." You whisper shyly.

Jungkook shrugs, "No problem. Which one should we try first?"

"Um, the pork ones a-are really g-good." You say, taking out the two pork buns. You hand one to him and he immediately takes a big bite, making you chuckle a little.

"Mm, you're right. It's delicious." Jungkook says around a mouthful of food.

You nod, glad that he likes it. Then you start to eat yours, thinking about which question you should ask him first.

"So, how long have you been a teacher?" Jungkook asks you suddenly.

You swallow the bite you were chewing, "I j-just started at the b-beginning of the school year in A-August. I graduated from c-college last year."

Jungkook nods knowingly, "That's good. So, you must be around twenty-two?"

You nod, "I am t-twenty-two, yes. How o-old are you?"

"I turned twenty-three in September," Jungkook says before taking another bite.

"Oh, n-nice. And what d-do you do f-for work?" You ask politely.

Jungkook swallows the bite that feels like it's stuck in his throat at your question. "I work for a small business. I just take care of client's needs and stuff."

You smile, "That's a g-good job."

He nods, finishing off his last bite.

"It pays the bills."

Why is he suddenly uncomfortable? There's something about you that makes him nervous, but he can't tell what it is.

No, this is on his terms. This is all part of the plan, he just needs to play along. He needs you to trust him.

Jungkook glances over at you as you stuff more food into your mouth.

This is gonna be easier than I thought.

______________________________

a/n: thank you so much for all the support so far! I hope y’all liked this one

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neon-junkie · 4 years ago

Text

It Takes Two To Tango

Summary: Stuck in a failing marriage where both you and your husband are having affairs, you enjoy another night with the man that you literally bumped into at the Saloon.

Pairing: Javier Escuella x f!Reader

Word Count: 2227

Rating: NSFW

Tags: Cheating/Affairs, Degrading, Humiliation, Praise, Squirting, Cum eating, Creampies, Face slapping, Knife kink, Choking, Smut without a plot.

Notes: I had RDR1 Javier in mind for this seeing as he's low honour, and the dialogue/actions in this are very low honour Javier based, buuuuut you're welcome to picture any Javier you want <3

To put things politely, you hate your husband. When you two first met, he was sweet, kind, wonderful, everything you'd expect in a partner; the first few years of your marriage were flawless, but something within him changed, and he began spiralling off the rails, crashing into the man that he is today.

A divorce is hard to come by, especially in this time. However, you two seem to have somewhat of an unspoken agreement that you're no longer together. Well, you still share a house, still sleep in the same bed, still ask how each other's day went; but you know exactly where he goes to every night, leaving you all alone in your comfortable home, and sometimes, the nights can get so cold without anybody to hold.

The new man that keeps you warm every night bumped into you at a bar, quite literally, and apologized profusely, then offered to buy you a replacement drink. You happily accepted, taking an instant fancy to his mysterious yet welcoming aura, and spent the rest of the night blatantly flirting. You eventually asked him to help clean the liquor he'd spilt off you, and he did so by licking a stripe from your collar bone, along your neck, settling just below your ear. "It always tastes so much better when you know you shouldn't be doing it, eh?" he huskily whispered, and you agreed by grabbing his hand and pulling him across town, straight into your bed.

Javier knew who you were when he bumped into you, he knew you were a married woman, and he mentioned that he'd seen your husband spending his time with other women, so it's only fair you do the same, right? At first, you felt guilty, until that one night where your husband came home with obvious hickeys on his neck, and you got your own back by asking Javier to mark you ten times worse.

And yet again, Javier's now climbing up the same path to your balcony, swinging his leg over the railing, and finding his way into your bed once he watches your husband leave. You're practically starving every single day, desperate for a way out of this marriage, but even more desperate to spend time with your lover. It's crystal clear how much he enjoys playing this sinful game with you, and often reassures you during pillow talk that he's seen your husband do far worse. It's only a matter of time before the tower falls.

"Javier," you mutter, wrists tied to the bed posts, legs spread, and said man lapping away between them.

"Mhmm?" he hums, his mouth far too occupied as he continues wrapping his lips around your cunt.

"T-too much, come on," you beg.

"Not yet," he quickly blurts out, and returns to lapping at your clit, sliding two fingers into you and curling them perfectly. Thank the lord that you live on the outskirts of town with no attached neighbours; you can be as loud as you want, moaning to your hearts content as Javier mutters sweet praise against your lips. "Good girl," he mutters against your cunt, his fingers continuing to work you open.

"C-come on," you beg yet again, only this time you hear Javier chuckle against you.

"Alright," he sighs. Javier removes his fingers, and licks his lips as his head raises, meeting yours. "Always so impatient, aren't you?" he laughs, but he's also the one lining his cock up to your entrance, cutting your reply short as he slides in. "I don't blame you for being impatient, you know," Javier begins to mutter, jumping straight in to a quick pace. "You must be so deprived, all thanks to that shitty husband of yours. But I'm here now, I'm here to make sure you tire yourself out every night. If your husbands not going to use this pussy, then I might as well use it," Javier shrugs.

It's never slow and steady with Javier, always quick and heated, in a rush just in case your husband does come early, even on the nights where he doesn't come home at all. Your head is rolling back against the pillow, eyes falling shut, but Javier draws your attention back to him with a slap across your cheek. "Look at me when I'm fucking you," he orders, making your eyes go wide. "That's better."

Javier moves his hand to your throat, squeezing lightly between your jawline, enough to be pleasurable, but not enough to make your mind go hazy. "Open up," he orders, and your mouth falls open instantly, tongue sticking out. "That's a good girl," Javier praises, before dipping his head down and spitting directly into your mouth. "Swallow."

He's grinning as you swallow his spit, licking your lips afterward; your cheeks then begin turning red as Javier returns to choking you, a dark glisten in his eyes as he continues to pound you, thrusting into you like his life depends on it. "I fuck you good, don't I?" he asks.

"Uh-huh," you manage to sigh, nodding your head at the same time.

"Then why do you keep closing your eyes, hm? I want you to look at me whilst I'm fucking you," Javier barks, and lands another slap across your cheek. Instead of wrapping his hand around your neck, he places his fingertips on either side of your cheeks, squishing them slightly together and ordering you to order your mouth once more. You watch as he spits into your mouth again, but much slower this time, letting his spit drool off his tongue, slowly into your mouth, before dipping his head down and sealing the deal with a hungry kiss.

"Good girl," he praises again, his lips still pressed against yours. Javier's thrusts come to a halt, his cock sheathed deep inside you, and he props himself upright with a somewhat serious look on his face. "Are you going to let me do it tonight?" he questions, and you know exactly what he's on about.

"Yeah," you nod. You go to reach out, but you're quickly reminded about your wrists being tied to the bed posts, as if you've somehow forgotten.

"I guess you could say this is a punishment, huh?" Javier asks as he shifts his weight over to the edge of the bed, reaching down to pick up his gun belt, his cock still inside you. "I mean, naughty girls like you deserve to be roughed up," he continues, unsheathing his knife and twiddling it between his fingers. "Of course, I'm not going to hurt you, but I suggest you be a good girl and stay still," he smirks.

Javier's knife disappears from your sight, only for the cool metal to be pressed against your throat. The blade is barely touching your skin, hovering over you. However, it's close enough to send a chill down your spine, one that you attempt to contain in fear of the blade making contact with your throat. Javier picks up his pace again, starting with slow thrusts, ensuring the knife is at an angle where it's not going to hurt you. For a man who you met at the Saloon, you trust him, not just with keeping your affair a secret, but with hot and heavy situations like this.

"I'd say hold still, but I've already made sure you'll hold still," he laughs, gesturing with his blade to your bound wrists.

Within time, the roll to Javier's hips becomes quicker, his eyes flicking from yours to the knife at your throat. You know by now not to close your eyes, no matter how many times he hits those perfect spots inside you, your body urging to let your eyes fall shut as your head rolls back.

Javier moves the blade across your skin, trailing up your neck and jawline, and presses the flat part to your cheek. He urges you to tilt your head, and keeps the blade there as his lips meet your neck, marking you loud proud, clear enough for your husband to notice, not that he hasn't before.

"How many do you think I can leave before he says something?" Javier comments, chuckling between kisses.

"Javier, not whilst we're fucking," you sigh. The last person you want to think about right now is your husband, and Javier replies with a laugh, moving his head back up, his eyes meeting yours.

"Alright, alright," he replies. "Say, could you hold this for me? I need both my hands free if I'm going to fill you up."

Before you can verbally accept, Javier's already pressing his knife against your mouth; he's kind enough to slip the handle into your mouth, rather than the blade. Instead, the blade tickles your cheek, pointing to your side, whilst your lips are wrapped around the handle.

"That's very kind of you," Javier laughs. He wraps his hands around your thighs, pulling them up to his waist, and puts all his focus into chasing his orgasm, using you like some kind of cheap street whore, not that you mind.

This time, Javier is the one to close his eyes, his breaths becoming quick and short as he slams down into you. You're a whimpering mess, most of your moans muffled by his knife, but he soaks up every noise you make like sweet music to his ears.

"Shit-" Javier grunts, his cock coming to a halt inside you as he fills you up; you can feel his cock twitching, complimented by the heavy moans Javier's letting out. There's a thin layer of sweat forming on his forehead, which he accidentally presses to your shoulder as he rests against it, catching his breath as he comes down from his high. "Your turn," Javier softly mutters.

He slips out of you, and shuffles to rest beside you, propping himself up on his elbow. Javier's other hand goes straight to work, not wanting to leave you empty for too long; he slips two fingers inside you, accidentally pushing out some of his load, the white mess oozing out of your cunt. Javier's fingers curl, and he begins moving his wrist, hitting that spot inside you at a vibrating speed.

You let out a cry, muffled by the handle still locked between your lips. Javier smirks at your reaction, but he doesn't let up, keeping his pace fast, eager to see how quickly he can make you cum. As always, your body begins to shake, uncontrollably squirming in Javier's grasp. He's letting out sweet words of praise, "good girl," and "that's it, soak the bed for me."

"Javier, I-"

"What?" he questions, his fingers not losing their pace.

"We'll make a mess!"

"Not we, you. You'll make a mess," Javier chuckles. "And what's wrong with a little mess, huh? just make your husband sleep on the damp side."

For some unknown reason, Javier's comment catches you off guard; maybe it's the way he whispered it directly into your ear, or the thought of letting your husband suffer whilst you sleep peacefully, but either way, your orgasm hits like a train.

"That's it," Javier cheers, watching in awe as you squirt. He doesn't let up, his fingers still hitting that spot inside you, his palm brushing against your clit with every flick of his wrist.

Javier's milking you, and it's rapidly becoming too much, only you're still bound to the bed, unable to push him off, and the knife handle in your mouth is keeping you from calling out your protests. He's smart, Javier knows exactly what he's doing, or what he's done.

But eventually, you run dry, your body still shaking from an intense and drawn out orgasm. "That's my good girl," Javier praises, placing a kiss to your temple as he pulls his fingers from you. Javier sits up on his knees, using his dry hand to remove the knife and places it on your bedside table. "Here. Open. Clean me up," Javier orders.

Javier presents his fingers, and like the well trained slut that you are, you open your mouth, allowing him to slip his fingers inside. The taste is exactly what you'd expect, a mixture of squirt and cum, but you let your eyes shut as you clean his fingers, licking them dry, enjoying the soft moans and sighs he lets out as he watches in lustful amazement.

You're just about finished when you hear the front door slam. Javier and you share a look of pure horror, his fingers still between your lips, both of your eyes wide and visibly nervous. Javier quickly pulls his fingers from your mouth, rushing to grab his knife and cut you free from your binds, with caution.

As soon as you're free, there's a mad rush, both of you hurrying to pull your clothes on, followed by dumping all of your bedding into the laundry basket. There's almost no time for a kiss goodbye, but you manage to fit one in, sharing the taste of your regular encounter before Javier scurries out onto your balcony and hops the railing, disappearing into the night.

Thankfully, your husband doesn't trail upstairs straight away, giving you enough time to organize your laundry properly and put some fresh bedding on. And by the time he does, you're already sound asleep, worn out from yet another illicit encounter.

Isn't it about time you start looking into your divorce?

#rdrwriting #it takes two to tango #smut #nsft #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella x female reader #f!reader #female reader #rdr2 #rdr1 #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #cheating #affair

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angelwheat · 3 years ago

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Call of Duty Zombies

»»————-　★　————-««

2.0; Edward Richtofen X Reader (One-Shot)

From Wattpad

»»————-　★　————-««

Location: Zetsubou No Shima

The withered tress stood dormant. A breeze not dared to blow across the element-ridden land. Wild flowers and vines climbed and ate away at every structure still remaining, though most lied in a crumbled heap. A dark shadow cast over the island, the sun was setting. The stickiness in the air grew each passing day, making zombie slaughtering a chore.

A lone Doctor traipsed across the muddy plains aimlessly. Much like his very own plan, the German remained a mystery to all. Typically, his demeanour was rather collected and reserved, however, upon recent confrontation with the man, his manners changed drastically. Specifically, when his female counterpart were present.

“Edward!” A female voice bellowed in the distance.

Frightening the man, Richtofen spun on his heel swiftly, frantically trying to locate the girl. He squinted, seeing her skipping towards him with a bright smile adorning her face. An item she gripped in one hand, though Edward was unable to decipher what it was.

The girl stopped before him and in a cheery voice she spoke.

“Hey.” She giggled.

Edward felt his breath hitch and nervously wiped his hands on his shirt. Seemingly charmed by her bold grin, he became unable to return a small greeting. Instead, he smiled.

(Y/n) hid her hands and said item behind her back, rocking on her heels, baring a cheeky grin all the while.

“I have something for you.” The girl declared, averting her gaze almost sheepishly.

Edward felt intrigued to know what she held behind her. He cocked a brow, staring at the girl intently. “What is it?” He quizzed.

With words unspoken, (Y/n) revealed a rare piece of weaponry. It glowed under the beams of the basking sun. The dials on the gun reflected streaks of light onto the tattered flowers surrounding them. Lying the gun on both her hands, she urged the man to take it by shoving it towards him.

Edward lead a hesitant hand, reaching out the take the weapon, though quickly he retreated on the idea.

“(Y/n), my dear, you worked extremely hard for this weaponry. I can’t accept this.” He protested.

In the blink of an eye, (Y/n)’s expression had changed. Her brows furrowed as her eyes became saddened.

With a frown on her face the girl spoke. “You haven’t been yourself lately. I thought this might cheer you up.”

“I’m quite alright, (Y/n).” He perked up, speaking quickly.

“I still want you to have this gun. I’m telling you to take it.” Her tone sounded commanding, as her gaze sharpened. “I won’t take no for an answer.” She added.

Edward sighed, giving in to her persuasive attitude. After finally taking the weapon into his very hands, he twirled it, watching the scarlet-red metal shimmer and glisten under the rays of the ever-darkening ombre sunset.

With a smile present on his face, Edward said, “Thank you, (Y/n).”

Returning a grin, the girl replied. “You’re very welcome.”

With a spring in her step, (Y/n) sauntered away from the man, teasingly swinging her hips as she stepped.

Edward turned, eyeing the girl as she gradually sauntered out of sight. His gaze fell onto her swaying hips. Little effort was made to tear his eyes from her being. Soon enough his face flourished in a bold cherry-red fluster. To clear his thoughts, he shook his head, and carried on traipsing across the land.

--X--

Hordes or the undead flooded across the island. Gunfire rang through the air, never ceasing. Shrieking screams pierced the ears of anyone nearby as another zombie fell lifeless to the floor.

(Y/n) fought side-by-side with her fellow German friend. Bullets from the girl’s heavy machine gun sprayed at every undead creature in sight. Edward popped off multiple zombie heads with his ray gun, smirking as he watched their bodies sink onto the mud.

Unbeknownst to Edward himself, (Y/n) happened to be sneaking glances at him. Never would she let a zombie close to him, and if such a thing were to occur, she took it upon herself to slaughter the being right where it stood.

A pained yelp caused the girl to whip around in a panic. Seeing a large gash on Edward’s forearm made (Y/n) fill with rage. She lunged at the zombie, slicing her blade across its throat, and throwing the corpse to the ground. Thankfully, that was the last of them.

The pair panted heavily. (Y/n) wiped away beads of sweat that collected on her forehead, eyeing the man in front of her. She observed as he grabbed his forearm with a force, hissing in pain, and trying to contain as much blood as possible. Edward scurried away fast, leaving (Y/n) to watch him in worry.

--X--

The skies turned to black long ago. Stars littered the blank space; clouds dared not to cover them. After traipsing the island for some time, the crew had found a perfect spot to make a fire. Now, they sit before the roaring flames, perched atop some scattered logs they managed to gather.

With some bandage he had salvaged, Edward wrapped his wound. Though, in (Y/n)’s eyes, it seemed like he was fumbling with the material, trying to make the procedure longer than needed. She watched as he would slowly wrap the material around his arm, sometimes even restarting with patching the gash.

“Edward.” (Y/n) called out, seemingly causing the man to jump back to reality.

His face blossomed in red as he stared at the girl, now also ceasing his task. Edward knew that her voice had caught the attention of his friends. He glanced at each of them, feeling their gaze upon him. Seeing Dempsey smirking at him made his gaze sharpen.

“Need some help there?” She giggled.

Utterly speechless, Edward shook his head in response. However, (Y/n) ignored that and stood from the log, soon coming to sit by Edward’s side.

With a soft hand, she grasped his own, making Edward stare with wide eyes. (Y/n) took the bandage and proceeded to finish what he started. The man observed her actions intently, though he felt himself in a daze.

After (Y/n) had finished wrapping his wound, Edward felt as though her touch lingered. Truth be told, the girl enjoyed the closeness they shared in the moment. The girl glanced at Dempsey, having a knowing feeling that the man would be smirking at the pair.

Startling Edward, (Y/n) leaned against his shoulder, feeling tiredness sweep her up. Hesitantly, he wrapped his bandaged arm around her, letting his hand rest gently on her waist.

Little conversation was passed around the fire for some time, until eventually, the flames had dulled to a smokey orange glow upon scattered ashes.

One-by-one, Nikolai, Takeo, and Dempsey had wandered off to their makeshift beds, in desperate need of sleep. Now, (Y/n) and Edward sit comfortably in a gentle embrace, keeping a single hand intertwined with one another. They exchanged jokes about anything, making the other giggle. Tomorrow’s plans were spoken of, though neither of them took much notice. It seemed their only focus was the person next to them.

“I wish you would smile more, Edward.” The girl spoke softly.

The Doctor sighed. “I know, my dear.”

Wriggling out of his arms, (Y/n) faced Edward. She noticed that his smile had fallen, and now setting a look of concern upon her face.

An idea soon came to mind, and in one quick motion, (Y/n) had planted a sweet kiss to Edward’s cheek. Immediate heat rose to his face once more, earning a giggle from the girl, and a smile from the German, despite how flustered he was.

“You’re blushing!” (Y/n) teased, poking at his face playfully.

Quickly, Edward concealed his face with both hands, however the girl refused to let him hide. She pulled his arms down, catching Edward of guard, and smashed her lips onto his. Once they pulled apart, Edward merely stared at the girl in bewilderment.

“New, I assume?” (Y/n) smirked upon seeing Edward nod meekly.

The girl had swung her legs across Edward’s lap, sitting contently by his side. Both her hands clutched his body, drawing herself closer to the warmth he radiated. The German held her tightly, wanting to savour the moment as much as he could.

Breaking the silence, in a luscious and seductive whisper, (Y/n) spoke, “Is there any way I may be able to tempt you into telling me about your plan?”

The girl moved to sit on the dampened soil, taking Edward by the hand and urging him to do the same. Hastily, he followed her.

(Y/n) sat straddling him in an instant. Upon seeing an awestruck expression on Edward’s face, it only encouraged her wicked smile to grow more. She bit her lip, as her eyes fell half-lidded and brimmed with lust. Her hands crawled over his chest, occasionally toying with the buttons on his shirt. (Y/n) let a single hand run through his jet black hair, all the while placing wet, open-mouthed kisses along his neck and collarbones.

Unbeknownst to Edward himself, his hands were ghosting over (Y/n)’s curves. Edward watched as he tightened his hold on the girl, it would only fuel her actions more.

Upon feeling Edward shudder beneath her after nibbling a certain spot on his neck, she drew away from him playfully, a smirk adorning her face.

“You’re such a tease.” Edward whispered with a grin.

(Y/n) giggled and soon came to whisper in his ear. “Well then, if you don’t want me to tease you, find me somewhere a little more secluded.”

With those words spoken, Edward stood before scooping the girl up into his arms. “If you wish.”

#edward richtofen #call of duty zombies #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod zombies #codz x reader #codz #one shot #edward richtofen x reader

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salut-imsyuka · 4 years ago

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Kono Hanasakuya-Hime - 𝓣h𝓮 𝓢𝓾𝓬𝓬𝓾𝓫𝓾𝓼

So here’s my entry for @ladykendalsims BC ! Again thank you so much for the extra time darling ♥ I’m sorry that I couldn’t send it on time !

Outdoor Enthusiast - Kleptomaniac, Loves Outdoor, Materialistic

My bachelorette's name is Kono, she's a 41 years old sim !

Kono is omnisexual, her pronouns are she/her

She may seem rather cold and cynical at first, but Kono has very little confidence in herself, she is trying to protect herself !

She has a rather sharp and very dry sens of humour

The gang she was in called her « The Succubus »

She’s a former prostitute

Kono has an immeasurable passion for flora, she is a pro when it comes to making concoctions, poisons and filters of all kinds, she would be very helpful in Crimson's shelter has she also masters gardening

Kono is not gifted in combat. To be honest, since the virus she focuses on improving her botanical abilities, she barely knows how to use a gun ! (but she always hides a pretty dagger in her boots)

She travels with a female doberman called Ba, she is her faithful companion

Born in the pale and frozen flanks of Mount Komorebi, Kono grew up in the very essence of the traditions. Yet she did not want to lock herself in the archaic straitjacket of custom. Indeed, she could not curb her inextinguishable thirst for adventure and left as soon as possible her home to discover the extent of the world that was open to her. So she landed in the dazzling town of San Myshuno, far too big and vicious for this little, naive woman who thought she could put the world at her feet. (more in depth story below)

Her pumps, far too high for her, slammed the lino's floor in the hotel room. It occasionally annoyed her neighbors of rooms, young women, who, like her, were tempted by the lure of gain ; each had their reasons : to make money easily, to pay food for their children, or to pay for their education, as Kono's case. She often oscillated between college classes and passing with clients, an unhealthy rhythm that allowed her, in spite of everything, to perhaps one day, after all the efforts and work that she provided -- especially hope -- finish her degree in botanic. But she ended up in a shabby hotel room, like all those girls who, like her, had their head full of dreams. Kono was caught in a vicious circle. She robbed her clients on the orders of her pimps, when she realized that she could earn much more than she imagined, she could no longer resist stealing, not without scruples.

In the mirror riddled with blinding white LEDs, she often looked at herself to touch up her gloss, her eyeshadow that sometimes flowed ; and with a stroke of a brush she became again the pretty doll adored by her customers. In a whisper comming from the hollow of her lips she repeated to herself, in a loud voice and standing proud in front of her reflection, that she was the best, that she was strong, powerful and beautiful, that one day her dreams would be within her reach. Only, she could not look at herself very long in the mirror, her atrocious reflection reminded her of the biggest mistake of her life, she embodied this mistake. She could see her younger self in her disguting reflection : a joyful little girl like the others, running through the frozen and arduous forests of Mount Komorebi. Each plant, each flower, she tried to gather them all in a small notebook with pages that were twisted by the snow. It was decorated with drawings of children and coloured with paint. It was as if she had never existed, or worse, as if Kono had slaughtered her childhood dreams with a backhand.

Kono has never had particular problems with romantic relationships : sure of herself and very enterprising, she was not afraid to trigger discussions, she even liked contact rather well. But it was over. Erased by prostitution, she thought, sincerely and from the depths of her heart not to deserve a single ounce of love, if not the one that her clients gave her : false, livid, she was the loved toy, but the one that you didn't want to take care of, because it was dirty and worn out ; instead, it was the doll that was passed from hand to hand for a limited time, a session of pleasure that did not exceed twenty minutes. She had wasted herself all her chances of one day meeting love, she was convinced. Still stuck in her tight dresses and lingerie, she thought she was worthless to anyone, to herself. As a result, Kono has a rather dismal relationship with her body, she has difficulty in taking into consideration her fleshly envelope, seeing herself only as a way of satisfying the urges of men. She therefore had little confidence in herself, and hid herself badly behind her make-up and her style, which, as she hopes, discourage anyone from approaching her.

In the misfortune of others she thought she could find a way out with the zombie virus spreading. She could leave the gang that had held her on a leash for many years, she was now the mistress of her own destiny. In the occasional panic sown by the hordes of zombies, she had, during a fiery afternoon, taken advantage of the surrounding panic to flee, bringing with her women who, like her, were alienated to the gang. They had become her sisters, her friends, her daughters, her family. For about fifteen years Kono took care of these girls as a mother would have done, each with her skills participated in the life and prosperity of the shelter. But Kono realized that she had never lived for herself. She, of such an independent and adventurous nature, had never taken care of herself. She left the shelter under the protection of Jolynn, a young woman who had followed her when she ran away from her gang. Jolynn, like all these girls, was a former prostitute, unlike Kono, she had warm blood, but Konno was sure that it would serve the protection of the shelter, she had blind confidence in the young woman ; and for good reason, they had a truly merging relationship. That’s how she went out on the roads to discover herself. Deep down, Kono was just a human, but she was about 40 years old, it was now or never. (btw I’d like to add that I am aware that sex workers aren’t always forced to do their jobs (there isn’t always a pimp behind), it was only the turn I wanted Kono’s story to take. I fully support sex workers ♥)

#crimson's post apocalyptic bachelor challenge #syuka #ts4 bachelor challenge #ts4 edit #ts4 #tw prostitution

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tahitianmangoes · 4 years ago

Text

Snow Falls

Pairing: Charles x Arthur Summary: After Charles had found Arthur unconscious on that mountain and he vowed that he'd never leave him again. Now he’d broken that vow. Words:3018 Chapter 1/1

Not cannon compliant | NSF W

And the snow falls, the wind calls The year turns round again 'Til then put your trust in tomorrow my friend For yesterday's over and done

****

The cabin was the best way up a mountain, far from prying eyes. They were safe here. Arthur could rest here. Charles could almost rest too but he would be lying if he said that he didn’t spend the moments that he wasn’t caring for Arthur looking over his shoulder for bounty hunters, Pinkertons or worse, Dutch and Micah.

Arthur was awake before Charles, he had gotten out of bed and was stoking the fire. “I can do that,” Charles said huskily, still half asleep and half dressed, getting out of bed and going over to Arthur.

Arthur's frame was slimmer than it had been a few months ago, a few months ago when Arthur had been well enough to eat. At that time, Charles had been able to see Arthur's spine through his paper white skin when the older outlaw let Charles bathe him. No matter how hard Charles tried to get Arthur to eat more, he didn't. He couldn't. Some days, he had no appetite. Some days, it was all he could do to get out of bed and sit by the cabin window. His brilliant blue eyes were less blood shot now though, perhaps because the stillness of the mountains allowed him to sleep compared to their tiny but noisy room in Saint Denis. The colour had returned to his sallow cheeks and he was beginning to grow stronger day by day.

But Charles could still hear Arthur's breaths sometimes, laboured and shaky. He tried to hide how breathless he became doing simple things like even brushing the horses, tried to stifle his coughs from Charles perhaps because he was embarrassed but of course, nothing escaped Charles.

“I know,” Arthur replied, “but I want to. Maybe you can let me chop the firewood from now on - you always do it.” “Oh Arthur…” Charles started. “Don’t oh Arthur me, “ Arthur said quickly. “Charles, I know you’re just trying to help but… I’m bored! I’m so damned bored, stuck in a little cabin in the middle of nowhere like… Like Little Red Riding Hood!” Charles chuckled at this. “It ain’t funny, Charles.” Arthur said huffily, continuing to stoke the fire doggedly. “You said we’d be across the border soon and I’m... I'm feeling better. We could go soon.”

Charles sighed, he reached for Arthur’s face. Arthur let Charles stroke the soft downy hair out of his eyes and caress his cheek tenderly. “I just want to take care of you, my love. You’re… well, you’re still healing.” “I’m fine…” Arthur started but Charles brushed his thumb over Arthur’s lips in a bid to silence him. They held each other’s gaze, it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Charles thart Arthur's shimmering blue eyes were more tired these days. But he was still the man Charles had fallen in love with, loved like no other. “We're lucky we've made it this far. I don't want to push the limits. We’ll go as soon as you’re ready, I promise.” Charles said gently, moving his head closer to Arthur's, “you know what the doctor said, you must rest.” “Charles-” “Arthur…”

They didn’t say it often. Arthur would flush and look away and Charles found himself getting tongue tied. So he kissed Arthur and Arthur kissed back. Arthur was always so strong but at the feel of Charles's lips to his own, he softened. He sighed into Charles’s mouth.

“You've spent your whole life taking care of other people,” Charles said to him in earnest, “let me take care of you. Just this one time.” Arthur was powerless to argue.

****

Charles chopped firewood in the morning, made sure Arthur took the medicine the doctor had prescribed for him for his pneumonia with his breakfast of eggs and potatoes. After that, Charles cleaned his guns, crafted some arrows and mended some of his clothes that seemed to miraculously sprout holes faster than he could stitch them. Arthur dozed, the medicine made him drowsy and the warmth from the fireplace only exacerbated things. Charles was glad to see Arthur resting, though. Once he was better, they would head further north into Canada and start a new life. Get some land. Maybe some animals, too. Maybe change their names. Spend every day together. Grow old together. Forget what happened out east. Love each other until they stopped drawing breath… But Arthur wasn’t well enough yet. Charles had waited this long, he could wait a while longer.

Charles’s cough started that evening after dinner. Arthur’s eyes widened, “d-did I..?” Charles shook his head and laughed softly, “it’s not contagious. I must have caught the cold, that’s all.” By the next morning, the cough had worsened and Charles's chest hurt; it felt like he was tearing through him with each swing of his axe while he chopped the firewood as usual. He fixed breakfast while Arthur slept in - he hadn’t slept well during the night, he'd woken wheezing a few times and sweating. Charles had feared it was a fever but he seemed better by the time he awoke the next day.

Charles didn’t tell Arthur that it hurt when he moved, that his head felt stuffy and the blood pounded like he’d been running. But he didn’t need to. Arthur noticed that Charles seemed groggy and tired. “It’s just a cold. I’ll be fine.” Charles said dismissively.

But Arthur saw how he shivered as he tried to stitch the clothes he hadn’t managed to finish yesterday.

“Come to bed.” “Arthur, I’m hardly in the mood-” Charles was cut off by Arthur’s rasping laugh. “I ain’t propositioning you, Mr Smith.” Charles looked over at Arthur who was still lying down and felt his cheeks burn hot with embarrassment. “It’s warm here. We can keep each other warm, pair o’ invalids together.” Arthur said, patting the bed beside him. Charles smirked. “How can I resist?”

So the pair of them spent the rest of the day in bed together, huddling under the blankets, Charles's head aching and his chest tight, dozing in each other's arms in a contended way that they’d never really been able to when they had been living a life on the run.

They spent the next few days like that until the worst of Charles's cold passed. Arthur seemed to enjoy this role reversal of taking care of Charles. He made him hot herbal tea that he said Hosea had taught him to brew. Better than that stuff you buy in the store. Whether the tea really helped or not, Charles was able to get up and back to his usual self (or near enough,) after a couple of days. But by this time, there was almost no food left in the cabin. “I’m going hunting,” Charles told Arthur that morning. “Charles… you’re not well.” Arthur said sleepily, holding his hand as he went to leave the bed to get dressed. Charles tugged away reluctantly, fingers slipping through Arthur's like water. “I’m well enough. Besides, we’ll both starve if I don’t go. I’ll be back before nightfall, I promise you.”

But he wasn’t.

The snow came down heavy and thick. Charles cursed himself for being so careless, so stupid. He’d been tracking a mountain ram, perhaps a little too far. He should have known when to give up and turn back, maybe ride into town the next day and get supplies from the general store but as much as Charles would never admit it, it was his pride that kept him out longer than he should have been. He didn’t want to return to Arthur empty handed, though he knew Arthur wouldn’t be disappointed. It was stupid, male pride. It was that pride that found him unable to get back across the mountain to the cabin, to Arthur. Taima had always been a strong horse but this had proven to be her limit. The snowstorm rolled across the hills and Charles was lucky in that he found a cave that looked like it had once been home to animals of some sort - wolves he suspected - but now seemed empty. He did his best to light a fire for them both but the wood he managed to gather in the boisterous wind was too wet and the embers soon died out.

The storm swirled and the wind howled. He was reminded of the time after the Blackwater fiasco, when the gang had been stuck in a storm at Colter. It seemed like a lifetime ago now. He had shared his first kiss with Arthur not long after that, just before the gang had moved from Horseshoe Overlook to Clemens Point. He remembered that night, when they’d camped under the stars in Big Valley, how Charles had felt so comfortable with Arthur in a way he’d never felt with anyone else. He’d never foreseen this future for himself, falling for a man, a white man, a murderer and outlaw… but Charles knew he couldn't question the way the world turns. All he knew was that he cared for Arthur in a way that set his heart on ablaze like nothing before.

Rains Fall had looked him deeply in the eyes that night when Arthur returned to Beaver Hollow and said, “go to him.” Charles had opened his mouth to protest but Rains Fall shook his head steadfastly, He had wore a sorrowful smile but the look in his eyes was as resolute as ever. “I have lost too many people I love, Mr Smith. You have too.” He lay his hand gently on Charles’s shoulder. “Mr Morgan can be saved. He needs you more than we do, now go.”

So Charles had rode into the night, the sky had gone from deepest navy to a blanket of obsidian above him. No stars shone. Charles rode desperately to Arthur, each beat of his heart was Arthur’s name as he flattened his body to Taima’s and urged her faster and faster, please, girl. Please just this once, please.

He had found Arthur unconscious on that mountain and he vowed that he'd never leave him again. Now he’d broken that vow.

As the snow came down harder and faster than ever, Charles paced the cave, flooded with images of Arthur alone in the cabin and endless “what ifs?” Eventually the night rolled in, the moon reflecting off of the snow as if it were the ocean and Charles knew he he could do nothing but wait.

Two days passed. Charles managed to start a fire and kept himself and Taima warm. It was a comfort to have her there, she'd been through a lot with him and turned out to be the most loyal of everyone in the end. On the third morning, the snow had all but stopped and it was so serene on the mountain now, as if the storm had never happened. Charles mounted up and urged Taima back to the cabin, fearing the worst with every beat of his heart.

****

It was dark by the time Charles burst through the door of the cabin, Arthur was already on his feet. Neither said anything as they embraced, Charles holding Arthur so tight to his chest, tighter than he should be he didn’t care. Needed to feel the warmth of the other man, to feel his breath on his neck as they stood like that while time seemed to stand still and all that could be heard was the crackling from the fire. He wouldn’t let Arthur go ever again.

And then they were kissing. Kissing without care nor hesitation nor complexity. Just two people so fiercely in love.

“I’ve missed you,” Charles breathed, kissing Arthur so hard it almost knocked the air from his lungs. “I love you,” came Arthur’s reply, his lips soft and warm against Charles’s cold ones.

He’d missed Arthur desperately, that feeling that he might not see him again, just like the night he went to the mountain had flooded him Every doubt he’d ever had, every time he had wondered if he had made the right decision was erased.

He kissed Arthur hard, bruisingly so. Arthur sighed into the kiss, lacing his arms around Charles’s neck and pressing their bodies together.

Charles had never loved anyone like this, never felt the branches grow, felt it take root in him until it was at his very centre. All consuming. The reason he woke up in the morning and the reason he didn't just give up when things looked bleak. The reason the sunsets looked beautiful and the reason why food tasted good.

Charles didn't know which one of them had started to the bed or maybe it was both but suddenly, he was lying Arthur down and Arthur was kissing his neck and unbuttoning his shirt.

Charles hesitated, “Arthur… Are you sure?” He asked gently.

They’d only done this a handful of times, Arthur inexperienced and shy about his body, Charles not wanting to press the issue because of Arthur’s inexperience but also because Arthur was still frail. But he’d make love to Arthur every day if he could just to see the way the older man’s eyes seemed to shine when he lay beneath Charles and how his face lost all tension when it was enraptured by bliss.

Since Arthur got sick, they hadn’t been able to be intimate. Arthur’s health was more important. And then they were moving from place to place, Charles paranoid that someone had recognised them from their bounty posters even though he would slip out at night sometimes while Arthur slept and tear them down, burning them in the fire.

This was the first time in months that they were truly alone. Arthur leaned up to kiss Charles’s lips, before pulling away, their eyes meeting in a rich gaze, “it’s ok… I want to do this.” he told him

Charles brushed Arthur’s hair from his face, the love he felt overpowering him, hands working away at Arthur’s shirt and union suit until he was bare. Charles kissed his lover’s pale, flushed skin, ran his lips tenderly over the gunshot wound at his shoulder, let his tongue flick teasingly around Arthur's nipples and softly nibble at his stomach, delighting in how Arthur quaked beneath him and gasped.

Arthur’s hands reached for Charles, too, slipping his shirt off of him, fingers working at buttons and fastenings until Charles was freed of his clothes. Arthur continued, caressing the wide expanse of Charles’s back, down his flank and kneading his ass. Charles chuckled softly. “I want you,” Arthur whispered. “You’re sure?” “Y-yeah.”

Charles rolled them both over so that Arthur was now astride him. His feet remained planted on the floor, his hips supported by the bed, Arthur straddled him. Both were panting and flushed, both achingly hard.

Arthur looked away hesitantly, arms moving up instinctively to cover himself but Charles held his wrists gently, “I want to see you, all of you.” Still not meeting Charles’s gaze, Arthur positioned himself over Charles’s length and, not able to wait any longer, after quickly slicking it with hair pomade (that tore a shiver down Charles’s spine but he managed to stop himself from bucking up into Arthur), he sunk down, swallowing Charles inch by inch.

Both of them gasped and moaned softly. Arthur’s dazzling eyes closed now as he adjusted to the length buried deep inside him to the hilt..

Arthur moved, he groaned as he did so. Charles filled him, felt so big inside. He reached down, steading himself by placing his palms on Charles's broad chest and then began to find a pace that he could enjoy. Charles watched with adoration as Arthur rode him, slow and sensual at first. He saw the flush deepening, saw his brow furrow as he found a rhythm, Charles placed his hands on Arthur’s hips to steady him Charles reached up to caress Arthur torso, his hips, the swell of his ass. The older outlaw’s weight bared down on him, engulfing him. Everything from the past few days, the past awful months felt like white noise. All Charles could focus on was his hard cock inside Arthur, his breathing, Arthur’s moans, their bodies rubbing against each other's, the feel of Arthur’s erection on his stomach as he slid in and out out of him, him becoming part of Arthur and Arthur becoming part of him.

It didn’t take long for Arthur's moans to grow louder and for him to bring himself down harder, passage squeezing Charles, making Charles growl in response. Arthur’s eyes rolled back and his body stiffened, he juddered almost collapsing if Charles hadn’t been holding him. He came without touching himself the first time. Charles saw the ecstasy clouding Arthur’s vision and as he barely came down from his first orgasm, he began to chase a second, raising his hips, grinding down on Charles with a force that Charles hadn't been certain Arthur wasn't capable of. Arthur huffed and cursed, he chanted Charles's name between low, careless moans. Charles groaned, doing his best not to spill himself in Arthur just yet and fill him up as much as would love to, Arthur’s heat was hypnotising but so was the way he moved, so was the way he looked above him, fawn coloured hair framing his handsome face, biting down on his lip, unable to hide how good this made him feel, how much he loved this,

Charles’s cock wrung orgasm after orgasm out of Arthur until he was left breathless and exhausted and finally collapsed into Charles’s arms. Charles thrust up into Arthur now, shivering and chest rumbling as he came, foreheads pressed together, breath hot on his face, Arthur’s lips trailing lazy kisses over his skin until they both stilled and lay in each others arms.

They lay like that until it began to grow light again outside and Charles could hear birdsong. "I love you," Charles murmured. Arthur slipped his hand in Charles's and whispered it back before he began to snore softly.

#charthur #rdr2 #writing #charles x arthur #arthur morgan #charles smith

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forever-rogue · 5 years ago

Note

Javi or Din: You are getting propositioned by someone, but you've never been good with conflict when people get pushy with you. So our man steps in.

I had to go with Javi because...well, it’s Javi. So here we are. Enjoy some...protective Javi.

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was the sticky warmth of the Colombian morning that had prompted you to wear a dress to work. Normally, you wouldn’t opting for either a pant or skirt suit, which had been dubbed as much more professional by the ambassador. Of course, it didn’t matter to her; she had proper heating and cooling in her office. You were resigned to the sometimes working, hardly circulating monstrosity of an air conditioner that served the back of the embassy.

Working with the crime investigation team was not glamorous work by any means. It was a load of hours, early mornings that stretched into late evenings, but you liked your job. Most women would not; hell, most people would not. It was dirty work, work that often pulled at your heartstrings, but someone had to do it. You figured it might as well be you.

But you often found solace in one of the few people you considered a friend, a true friend, not just a work friend: one Javier Peña. He’d come to Colombia at the same time as you, and despite his sometimes off putting personality, and gruff world view, he was nice...kind. He didn’t treat you like just another woman like many of the others did. He treated you like an equal, and despite working your ass off every day, for years, proving yourself over and over again, he was one of the people that did. Him, and his partner Murphy. They were good men, despite their flaws.

A few beads of sweat dripping down the valley of your breasts pulled you back into reality as you grabbed a few papers and started fanning yourself. The cooling system must have gone completely rogue and decided to quit working. You were half tempted to do the same. Instead, you slumped in your chair and pulled a stack of paperwork towards, opting to do whatever required the minimal effort. It was Friday, and you were hoping, at this rate anyway, that you could maybe try and sneak out early and head to the lake to go for a swim and cool off.

Tapping your pen thoughtfully against your lip, you were so lost in thought that you didn’t even notice Javi walked in and setting something down in front of you. He waved his hand in front of your face, clearing his throat before almost snorting with laughter, “buenos días, senorita.”

“Javi,” you jumped a little bit as you turned to him; he was watching you with a bemused expression and you couldn’t fight the smile that crossed your features. If you were going to be startled and pulled out of your daydreams, it might as well be at the hands of handsome man. And Javi was no exception especially today - he’d opted for a snug fitting black button up and what were probably his tightest jeans. It was a lot to be sure and you tried not let your eyes lingers anywhere for too long. He’d catch on in a heartbeat and never let you live it down, “good morning.”

“Peso for your thoughts?” he pushed a cup of coffee and a muffin closer to you. It was a Friday tradition that you both relished; he’d come into your office at the end of the week to bring you a sweet treat. To start the weekend properly he liked to insist with a wink.

“Hmm,” you grabbed the muffin and took a bite. It was filled with poppy seeds and fresh blueberries, “just thinking about how I can sneak out early today. I was thinking about going to the lake for a swim. It’s stiffling.”

“Good luck with that,” he snorted and you shrugged, “you can always come and work in our office today. It’s much cooler...I could use the company. Murphy’s off in his own little world today.”

“As tempting as that is, I should stay here. I actually need to focus and get work done,” you insisted. If you went with Javi, you’d both end up goofing off and get little else accomplished, “but I appreciate the offer.”

“Suit yourself,” he gave your desk a small knock before turning to leave and start his down day, “you know where to find me if you change your mind.”

“Thank you, Javi,” you called after him as you grabbed the coffee and took a sip, immediately regretting your decision. It was almost scalding hot still, and didn’t help to cool you down. Maybe you could let it sit for a while before chugging it to get the little buzz that caffeine afforded you.

“Hey...ugh,” Javi turned back to you just before he stepped out. You turned to him and raised and eyebrow, urging him to go on, “do you...we’re going for a drink after work, do you want to come with us?”

“Who is we?”

“Me, Murph...some of the other guys,” he volunteered and you cringed a little bit. You’d easily have said yes if it was only going to be him and Murphy...but the rest of the crowd? That gave you a moment of hesitation; just because Javi and his partner would be decent, it didn’t mean that the rest of them would be.

“I dunno,” you shrugged, gnawing on your bottom lip, “it’s just...”

“I know,” he finished for you, “but it’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll talk to the guys...and if anything, you’ll have me and Murph.”

“Okay,” you agreed with a small nod. If nothing else, you’d be able to sneak out and head off on your own. Most of the men would probably be drunk enough after a few drinks and they probably wouldn’t even notice you sneaking away. Who knows...maybe they would even be tolerable.

“Great!” his eyes lit up as he grinned at you, “I’ll see you after work then...and in the meantime, the offer still stands.”

“Bye Javi,” you shook your head at him, turning back to your own work, a vain attempt at focusing. You knew this would be on your mind for the rest of the day; you always did love spending any time with him that you could, “get going and do some work.”

“On a Friday?!”

“Javier-”

“Fine mija,” he sighed dramatically; his use of his little pet name for you did not fall on deaf ears, “see you later....nice dress by the way. It looks good.”

“It was just so hot, the idea of pants almost killed me...”

“Either way, it’s nice,” he insisted. Was that a light blush creeping into his cheeks? You didn’t notice, too busy trying to keep the flush on your own face from being too apparent, “I mean you always look nice...pretty...it’s just different. But not in a bad way - not that I stare...it doesn’t matter what you wear, you’re always-”

“Javi?”

“Hmm?”

“Get to work,” you kept your face trained on your papers, biting the inside of your cheek so hard you were surely drawing blood. Was he nervous? Had you actually caused serial womanizer Javier Peña to get anxious and nervous around you? Cherish the thought. He nodded before disappearing for real this time, leaving just you to remain in the stuffy office. The words in front of you quickly became a blur as your attention was anywhere on work. How were you supposed to focus when the only thought in your brain was Javi, Javi, Javi?

»»————-　♡　————-««

Your evening out with the crew from work had proven to be...not nearly as unpleasant as you’d anticipated. Maybe your worries had been for nothing? Maybe it was because you remained more or less silent, offering only a few words here and there throughout the conversation. Maybe it was the fact that you were nestled between Javi and Steve, almost as if they were some of sort of buffer, silently protecting you from any unpleasantness. Maybe it was because everyone was in a decent mood and just wanted a nice evening out.

Whatever the reason was, you weren’t going to question it; instead you found yourself having a decent time, nursing a few cool beers in the balmy evening as the men around you chattered away. they were worse than women sometimes, you were sure of it, but they would never agree with you.

Eventually, after throwing back your fair share of alcohol, you’d decided it was time to make your way back home. You didn’t want to stay and risk getting too drunk; you’d hate yourself in the morning as it took the whole weekend to recover. You’d hate yourself even more if you continued to drink, lost your inhibitions and inadvertently confessed your feelings to Javi. You could live with a lot...but that? You weren’t so sure.

“Hey,” you leaned into Javi’s warm body, desperately not trying to get too lost in his scent as you clambered for his attention, “I’m going to head home, okay?”

“I’ll go with you,” it was an immediate, insistent statement. But you gave his forearm a squeeze and shook your head, “mija, let me come with you, it’s late and it’s dark.”

“I’m a big girl,” you promised, but the tension in his shoulders didn’t relent, “besides, I’m almost completely sober by now. I just want to get home to bed so I can up early and go on a run and to the lake-”

“Who the fuck does that on a weekend-”

“Good night, Javi,” you grabbed your purse and stood up, giving him a soft smile, and offering Steve the same. You wanted to stay, hells, half of you was tempting to remain anyway, but you knew the responsible thing was to leave and stay in the clear. You turned to the rest of the table and gave them a small wave, “goodnight everyone. Have a good weekend.”

You received a few replies and waves in response before heading out of the crowded bar. It was stuffy and warm again, and you were glad that the fresh air of the outside would provide some sort of relieve.

Letting out a long sigh as you reached the street, you quickly oriented yourself before starting to walk in the direction of the apartment complex you shared with Steve and Javi. You’d walked to work that morning, hoping it would somehow be cooler than driving (you had been sorely mistaken), and then gotten a ride from Javi after work. Maybe you should have let him take you home...but a quiet walk alone might be nice too. The streets were almost empty, and if worst came to absolute worst, you had a gun on you. You were a surprisingly good shot, despite how little the men you worked with thought of you.

You’d made it about halfway down the block when you heard a pair of heavy footsteps behind you, followed up a shout of your name. You stopped, turning around curiously but relaxed when you noticed that it was just Williams, one of the many men that had been on your little outing. You wondered what he could want - maybe you’d just forgotten something?

“Hey...what’s up?” you immediately regretting your decision as he closed the distance between your bodies and had you trapped between him and the dirty stone wall of the bar. Trying to remain calm, you swallowed the lump in your throat, “w-what are you doing?”

“Just came to make sure you were okay to go home,” his words were slurred as he brought his face closer to yours. His breath was laced with alcohol and he brought a hand to your face, touching your cheek, “looks like you could use a little company.”

Glancing around the street, you were annoyed now that there was no one around. Perhaps then someone would help you. You tried to square your shoulders, making yourself appear more confident, “you need to stop. I am okay to go home. But you need to get back inside and get a ride home.”

“Come on, little one,” he was so close that you turned your face, keeping your eyes squeezed shut and hoping he would go away, “you can’t come dressed like that and not want it. Look at you, you look like one of the whores that Peña’s so fond of fucking.”

“You need to stop,” you repeated firmly, trying to push him away. But he was large, and could easily overpower you if need be. He just laughed at your weak attempt, “Williams, let me go and go back inside.You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Come on,” he slurred, trying to kiss, but you were able to dodge his lips, “just give us a kiss. Just a little one.”

“Stop.”

“Why? Don’t you want some fun?” he was getting angrier and your heart was racing rapidly. You were afraid it might leap out of your chest at this rate.

“No.”

“Why not? You fuck Peña all the time, might as well share with everyone else,” you were as angry as you were scared. You’d always figured that people might have that notion, but it had never really bothered you; you knew the truth and that was what mattered.

Before you could say anything else, he was pulled back and you were free from his entrapment. Opening your eyes, you quickly saw Javier standing there, a livid expression on his face as his chest rose and fell rapidly.

“You better get the fuck back inside before I go something you will not like,” he was glowering daggers at the man on the ground. Before he could respond, Javi quickly bent down and punched him a few times, and a sickening crack ran through the night air. The man groaned lightly but Javi didn’t care, “if I ever, ever, see you near her again, I will not hesitate to kill you. Do I make myself clear?”

The man let out a string of unintelligible sounds before dragging himself away and stumbling to his feet. He looked a sight, but you didn’t care. You were just glad to be safe.

“J-Javi,” you turned to him, noticing that his hand was already turning a few shades of blue and purple, “you’re hurt.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he insisted quietly, wiping his bloody hand on his pants, “are you okay? Did he touch you? Hurt you?”

“No,” you hadn’t realized that a few tears had run down your cheeks. Javi didn’t hesitate to wipe them away, his touch gentle as ever. You gave him a small, weak little smile before he pulled you into his arms, “thank you, Javi. But how did you know...”

“I just had a feeling,” he wrapped his arms around you gently kissed the crown of your head, “I’m glad I did. Mija...don’t listen to him. I know you won’t but...you don’t look anything like he said. You look gorgeous, and I’d never...”

“I know,” you promised, pulling back and giving him a small nod, “he’s an idiot and he’s drunk, and I don’t know what I’d have done without you. I just...panicked.”

“It’s okay,” he promised, “you’re safe. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Thank you,” it was an almost pathetic sound, but you were glad to have him there. Who knows what would have happened if he hadn’t shown up in time, “can you...take me home? That is, unless you want to stay...”

“No,” he promised gently, reaching for his keys and leading you back towards his car, “let me take you home. I want you safe and sound.”

“Thank you, Javi,” he opened the door to the passenger and helped you inside, despite you not needing the help. In the moment you appreciated it. He got into the driver’s side and started the car, letting it roar to life. You sat there in comfortable silence for a few moments, both of you coming down from the adrenaline of the moment.

“You still planning on that run and swim tomorrow?” he asked suddenly and you shrugged. It somehow...had lost its appeal in the moment. He turned to you, putting his hand on your leg and giving it a reassuring squeeze, “if you’d like the company, I’d be happy to go with you.”

“Really?” you asked quietly, and despite everything you were feeling, a small smile worked its way onto your face, “you don’t have to come just because you’re worried and think I’m going to be this scared little girl now...”

“I want to come,” he promised. He’d be happy to watch paint dry or grass grow if it meant he got to spend time with you, “if you’ll have me.”

“Yes,” you put your hand on top of his and gave it a light squeeze. He let out a small, content exhale before lacing his fingers through yours, “I’ll always have you, Javi.”

“I don’t know how much of this rise and shine and morning run bullshit I can do,” he chuckled as he started to drive, one hand on the steering well and the other with yours, “but I figure if it’s with you, it’s worth a try.”

“Yeah?”

“Always.”

#javier pena #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javier peña #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #narcos

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years ago

Text

HASO, “Telling Tales.”

This story came as a suggestion from someone on the discord server, so I hope you all enjoy a break from some of the heavier stuff I have been doing lately.

The room was large and filled with noise, mostly the clinking of glasses and the clattering of voices, but on occasion the comm systems echoed with a cool female voice broadcasting announcements across the entirety of the station.

There were at least forty tables inside the room packed in close together, with a long bar at one end where men and women alike stood standing and chatting to each other as they took their drinks. Below that was the low rumble of music, and up on all four walls, large projection screens broadcasted earth sports in delayed time.

At the far end of the room a large viewing window looked out on a wide view of space and the rest of the station. The station itself was huge, stretching out for what could have been miles and miles of tightly packed corridors and branching rooms. The station itself was a mesh of Tesraki and human technology and had been built right here in orbit….. In orbit of the thing staring at them from out in the darkness.

A supermassive black hole ringed by a disk of bright light and a halo that cut across the middle.

Honestly as McCaster stepped into the room, he found the view very disconcerting, and had the sudden worry that…. Inexplicably they would start slowly drifting towards the black hole until they succumbed to a horrendous and terrifying death. Looking around though, it seemed that no one else seemed to think so, and he ushered himself inside and over to the bar hoping that a drink might calm him down.

He sidled up to the bar leading against the metal countertop and motion for the bartender with a hand.

She slid over to where he was. She was dressed casually, though the bearing of her chin told him that she was one of the soldiers working on the station and not just a civilian. He ordered something to drink, and he came back a moment later with a metal tankard. He took it surprised to find that he missed the bright amber liquid inside cool glass covered in a layer of condensation, but he supposed having breakable drinking vessels wasn’t going to do for a ship like this.

Still, the liquid inside his mug looked a sort of muddy brown rather than a pleasant amber.

He took another sip.

Still tasted fine though.

He turned to look around the bar watching as groups of people chatted to each other , drank and ate.

Not all of them worked here, some of them, like the crew of the Omen, had stopped by for supplies and to give their men and women some time to relax and have a little fun before they had to ship out again. McCaster felt this was really his only chance for a while, to meet people off the ship.

He sidled forward eyes scanning over the room and falling on a woman. She was pretty, young about his age with blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail.

Couldn’t hurt right?

Unfortunately, just as he was sidling up, some other gus seemed to have the same Idea, and he sat down at her table just as two others did pausing to stare at each other across the table.

McCaster looked at the young woman, “This seat isn’t taken, is it?”

She tilted her head at him in near amusement, “I can’t control where you sit.”

“Then I suppose you don’t mind if we join you.” The other man added receiving a glower from McCaster across the table.

“You work here.” The other man asked her

“Yes.”

“Well me and the boys here are just off from The UNSC Pioneer, finest ship this side of the quadrant.”

McCaster snorted into his glass, not trying to be a dick this time, but he knew THAT was a lie.

The other man glared at him, “What, you disagree.”

“Frankly, yes. Our ship is Objectively the best and that’s not even me bragging.”

“Oh really, and what ship is this.”

McCaster smirked, “The UNSC Omen, but I bet you’ve heard of it.”

There was a chorus of disbelief up from the other men.

“Right, and I bet you are personal friends with Admiral Vir too, right.”

McCaster frowned, “Maybe not personal friends, but I did fly with him once.”

More disbelieving booing.

He crossed his arms, “Don’t believe me huh well what about this.” he reached into his pocket to snag his ID card and then pulled it out, holding it up for the entire table to see, “See Lt McCaster of the UNSC Omen. I fly a Thunderhawk, and sometimes the shuttles.” This time the men could hardly argue, his iD said as much, at least as much about which ship he worked on and what he did.

THere was a light murmuring around the table.

“That’s right, so like ninety precent of my friends are aliens.” He was exaggerating just a little bit, he didn’t really interact with the aliens on the ship all that much accept for the Celzex that fixed the weapons on his jet, and the Drev he liked to play" pool with.

But the blond was looking at him with interest, so its not like he could squander this opportunity

He nodded glancing sidelong at the girl.

“Yeah, like I said, its not like the Admiral and I take lunch together or anything, ‘but’ the ship is small enough that I do run into him on a daily basis, cool guy, a bit weird though. I actually flew with him during the burg war on the Gromm home planet.”

A chorus of disbelief.

Behind him someone chimed in, “Bullshit.”

He turned to see that another table behind them had overheard his claims. There was a pretty redhead sitting there, and so he wasn’t likely to let go of his momentum. He raised his ID badge for all to see, “Not lying.” He raised his mug to his lips and took a long satisfied sip, “Disbelieve me all you wan’t but it’s true.”

“Well don’t just sit there all smug, tell us about it then.” Someone urged, and he was more than happy to oblige.

“Well, we had just been informed of the eminent Burg attack on the Gromm capital city below. I had been being debriefed by the Commander, at the time, and went with him to the bridge as we were debriefed. The Nexus was down and Burg ships were descending in swarms. They were unprotected on the planet below, and it was clearly up to our crew to stop the attack.”

His little crowd was drawing even more eyes, and he found himself with a small crowd of skeptics sitting around him listening to his every word.

He found himself speaking faster with excitement and nerves.

“I was on the bridge and watched him survey the scene, when out of nowhere he hands the captain chair over to one of his lieutenants and orders me out with him. They had orbital defences, but he knew that they had no chance in atmosphere since they didn’ have any fighter jets to push back the invasion.” he puffed out his chest, “Admiral Vir handpicked me to accompany him as his copilot and gunner.”

Another chorus of disbelief.

He shook his head, “Disbelieve me all you want, but it’s true. He knew my talents, and he knew I could keep up with him. And I tell you I have never seen a man or woman that could fly like he does.”

He had them now leaning forward in their chairs.

The best part is all of this was true…. Mostly.

“Of course, I was ready, solid as a rock, I have been training for just such situations for the entirety of my career, and I had no hesitations about what I was going to do. The Admiral was relying on me to be his copilot and damn straight I wasn’t going to let him down.” He grinned in a self satisfactory way, “He gave me charge of all the important stuff while he was flying combat…. And he made it sure in no unclear terms that if he couldn’t handle the flying, I was going to take over for him.”

Ok that was sort of a lie, but only a little one.

“I knew as soon as we were coming in that Admiral vir had an idea brewing. We didn’t go for an angled entry but instead piloted our jet straight down. I thought that the re entry was going to rattle my teeth out of my head. But as I said before I had no doubts about the Admiral. I knew we were going in, and I had inklings of what the admiral was about to do. I never questioned him.”

Also kind of a lie, but it's not like it mattered.

“We were plunging from the sky, fire spitting off our wings, going so fast it makes your insides feel like they are on your outsides. Picture the sky fading to blue behind you, fire is benign thrown off your wings like water from a waterfall, the G force is so powerful that it compresses your chest and makes it hard to breathe,” he was standing now gesturing wildly, “We plummet from the sky, and fire our guns exploding a burg ship just before it takes out one of our other fighters. We pull up right before the ground, must have been nine ten maybe even fifteen Gs.” Okay he was exaggerating, “But I stayed conscious through the whole thing.” That was also kind of a lie.

“We broke into combat with the burg drones, and I shot down at least three of them as the Admiral piloted. He said afterwards that he had never seen someone take the shots I did and make it.” Okay yes he had been passed out for half of this, but again its not like any of them were going to know.

What harm was a little exaggeration.

“I caught one burg as we were coming out of a sharp dive, my hand felt nine times heavier than it should have, but I nailed it in the engine compartment and it exploded into a ball of fire. I was still shooting them down when the Admiral orders me to take control of the ship. Of course I wanted to ask what was going on, but there was no time, I grab the stick and manuver us into a tight barrel roll. A ship explodes behind us. I have control of the jet now complete control and I pull us up into tight pursuit of another. I avoid two missiles and in a moment of genius, I drop all of our flares, which collide with at least four burg ships exploding on impact. What I hadn’t known is that the Admiral’s hand had cramped from all that earlier flying, and if I hadn’t been there he would have died. But at that moment I had no idea and proceeded to clear enemy skies over the capital city. I dived so close to the ground that we might have crashed if I hadn’t pulled us into an inverted upwards pull for the last few seconds”

He continued to speak and as he did the fight grew even more excessive and heroic. He detailed in exquisite and colorful imagery as he single handedly flew them to safety pulling off near impossible maneuvers, crack shots and many more outlandish happenings as he and Admiral Vir valiantly switched back and forth on the controls, equals in every way.

He was just describing their great and climactic fight scene where, he had to take command of the ship once again, when he finally noticed no one was really paying attention to him. He saw their eyes, looking past him.

His voice slowed, as he looked around eyebrows furrowed.

He turned where he stood and cut off mid sentence as his eyes fell on a familiar face in the crowd.

Admiral Vir sat behind him in a chair balancing on two legs, head tilted to the side. His eyepatch covered one of his eyes, but the expression on his face was one of great and abiding amusement.

He leaned forward in his seat, “Don’t let me interrupt you lieutenant. I believe you were just getting the the part where you pull an inverted double helix back loop and I pass out drooling in the front, you just manage to pull us out of that dive, and the two burg ships are so confused by the manuver that they crash into each other and explode catching the attention of all the other stunned burg in the area and allowing the other pilots a final push in clearing the sky?”

McCaster’s mouth opened and then closed and then opened again .

Admiral Vir continued to smile as McCaster stammered and gurgled like an idiot.

“So…. what actually happened.” Someone asked

McCaster plopped shamefacedly down in his seat. Admiral Vir paused tilting his head in the other direction as if thinking. A good portion of the room had gone quiet as they shuffled closer to hear the stroy. He stood after a moment and walked over to where McCaster was sitting placing his hands on the back of the chair.

“Well The first part of the story wasn’t wrong. I had been debriefing McCaster and the other recruits on a few aspects of my ship when we got the call in that the Gromm homeworld was being attacked. I DID give up command to the ship of one of my lieutenants, and I DID as McCaster to fly with me as copilot.” he smiled and easy smile that seemed to light up the room around him.

Everyone within a twenty foot radius shifted forward in an effort to be closer to the man and the magnetic nature of his personality and charming smile.

“McCaster was top of his class in flight school, and I wanted an extra pair of eyes, that is true. We did take a vertical dive into the atmosphere instead of an angled entry. Yes there was fire spitting off the wings, and yes we did pull out of a vertical dive after saving one of the other fighter jets. All of that is pretty accurate.”

HE smiled and McCaster wilted.

“He did embellish a few things.” he rested a hand on McCaster’s shoulders, “But what is a good story without a little bit of embellishment? I’ve certainly never told a story that didn’t sound about ten times better than it actually was.” There was a small laugh from the crowd, “Point being that I would certainly fly with McCaster again, he is a brave, talented, and honorable member of my crew even if he is a colorful storyteller.”

McCaster looked up at the Admiral, still leaning on the back of his chair, and watched as the man made subtle eye contact with the blond girl just a few feet away.

McCaster blushed As Admiral Vir pushed his chair forward across the ground to sit next to her.

She was smiling in some measure of amusement, and Admiral Vir winked at him as he backed away. Either that or he just blinked, it was hard to tell with the eyepatch.

He turned back to look at the woman who was looking at him in some measure of amusement.

He rubbed the back of his head.

“He seems to be one hell of a wing man, in and out of a jet.” She commented

He stammered stupidly glancing over his shoulder to where Admiral Vir had retreated to the bar, ignoring the eyes on him, hungry expressions from both men and women as he ordered a drink and sat down.

Bless the Admiral, number one for being a good wingman for sure, and two…. For not totally calling him out on all his bullshit.

Granted everyone probably guessed, but at least he could keep some of his dignity with plausible deniability.

He was able to work himself back into a state of cool suave composure, enough to learn that the woman’s name was Emily, and that she worked as a data analyst for the big black hole thing. It had a lot to do with math and physics which he totally didn’t understand, but certainly tried to because he knew she liked it.

Across the room, Admiral vir attracted ebbing and flowing waves of people coming to listen to his own stories which were mostly modest and self deprecating depictions of what really happened. Being the first person to fall flat on his face on an alien planet, how he had scared the shit out of the bran the first time he met them, how he ended up in a Rundi prison because he was being a dumbass.

There were a few times where he too tended to embellish the stories, only to preface later by saying, but what actually happened was this.

As soon as the man stepped into the room he seemed to change the whole gravity of it like a wandering star collecting satellites.

He supposed that’s what happened when you were famous.

Thanks to him though, it turned out he got along really well with Emily, and despite knowing he was a complete moron, she seemed to like him too, and he scored her number and a surreptitious invitation to accompany her on a walk to somewhere quieter.

As he was leaving, he turned back to look at the Admiral, making surprise eye contact with him as he did.

He raised his glass minutely to McCaster before turning around and continuing his story.

He grinned as Emily took his hand,.

“So….. tell me really, how many times did you pass out when flying with him.”

He snorted, “Please, I spent more than half of it passed out, like I can’t remember shit. I don’t even remember where the sky or ground was relative to each other for most of the time. The man can fly…. Like all that stuff I was telling you, just replace my name with his and you might have yourself a believable story.”

She laughed at his expense and he laughed too

Thank you Admiral Vir.

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ghost-in-the-hella · 4 years ago

Note

If you are still taking prompts, and were so inclined, 47 for Gideon the Ninth!

I am always so inclined. Enjoy this... this thing. Gets a bit rude because, well, Gideon.

47. “You look like hell.”

---

“You look like hell.”

Gideon startles at the sound of Coronabeth Tridentarius actually speaking to her. She sounds more intrigued than judgemental, as if hell were an exotic travel destination she’s not yet been to but is eager to learn more about. Gideon is, not for the first time, grateful for her affected vow of silence as all possibility of coherent thought abandons her tongue. She would surely be a stuttering gay mess if she tried to speak to a woman as beautiful as this particular princess of Ida. With her feigned vow, she can still pull off the “strong but silent” affect and at least somewhat salvage the impression of being a suave badass who’s great with the ladies.

Or she could if she weren’t currently a panting, heaving, sweat drenched, bone dust coated, blood smeared, tattered mess.

It figures that Harrow doesn’t even have to be in the same room with Gideon to have completely ruined her game. Gideon draws herself up to her full height and squares her shoulders - fighting the urge to slump into an exhausted heap on the floor - and straightens her crooked aviators. She hopes that her face paint is still a badass skull and not a runny mess of gray; they’re not big on mirrors down in the facility. Her spine stiffens as Coronabeth steps toward her, smiling like they’re sharing a secret, and brushes one perfect hand lightly at each of Gideon’s shoulders, scattering fine chips of bone onto the floor.

“Poor thing,” Coronabeth purrs, locking Gideon in place with intense eye contact even through her shades. “Your necro’s really running you ragged, isn’t she?”

The last thing Gideon wants to talk about while a beautiful woman is touching her - actually touching her! Okay, touching the shoulders of her robes, but still! - is her screeching ferret of a necromancer. Her distaste must show in her expression even through the caked on layers of sweaty paint because Coronabeth chuckles prettily and squeezes her shoulder - Gideon tenses her sick delts reflexively, desperate to please - and gives her a conspiratorial smirk. “That’s alright. I won’t ask you to divulge any forbidden secrets about the Ninth House or the trials.” She runs clever fingers around the hem of Gideon’s hood - a rumpled heap around her neck, having fallen down as she heaved herself up the ladder from the facility in a hurry to get herself to a sonic - and winks suggestively enough that Gideon swallows hard. “She really must be putting you through the ringer. You know, I feel quite sorry for you cavs sometimes. So much is asked of you, and you get so little in return…”

Gideon has passed out. Surely, this must be what has happened. She’ll wake up in her nest of black blankets with a dirty magazine glued to her face by skull paint and drool, completely covered in sticky notes blackened with Harrowhark’s vitriol. Because it sure as hell feels like Coronabeth - Coronabeth Tridentarius, crown Princess of Ida, hottest necromancer this side of the funny books - is flirting with her. With her. Gideon Nav, indentured servant of the Ninth, perpetually demeaned cavalier primary to her lifelong nemesis, hottest cavalier in history to never touch a boob that wasn’t her own. With her stupid, itchy black robes that still smell faintly of Ortus Nigenad’s flop sweat no matter how many times they’re laundered, with her overgrown and uncombed hair all full of cobwebs and bone dust, with her half-melted face paint of a creepy fucking skull not quite concealing her latest acne outbreak. So there’s no fucking way that this isn’t some delightful dream inspired by too many titty mags before bedtime.

Coronabeth’s hand slides down from Gideon’s shoulder, gliding down the length of her arm - trailing over the firm roundness of her deltoid, the jaw-dropping perfection of her biceps, the corded extensor muscles of her forearms - down to seize her calloused hand with her own surprisingly strong one. “I think you deserve something in return. Don’t you?”

Okay. New thought. Maybe Gideon hasn’t passed out, but she’s probably going to if Coronabeth keeps touching her like this.

Gideon nods very carefully, trying not to let any drool drop from her mouth.

Coronabeth’s smile is as bright as Dominicus. She tugs Gideon’s hand and leads her down an unfamiliar hallway. Gideon follows obediently despite her necromancer’s warnings ringing in her head, shrieking at her to trust no one. Well, Gideon figures, if she’s a lamb being led to the slaughter, at least she’ll die happy. A girl’s holding her hand! Flirting with her! Smiling at her! Touching her muscles!

Much to Gideon’s surprise, she is not promptly jumped and flesh magicked to death upon entry to the Third’s quarters. In fact, as far as she can tell, she’s alone in them with Coronabeth. Sure, she had to offer up a bit of blood to the gross ward on the door, but she’s already bleeding a little bit from her adventures in the facility anyway so that’s no biggie.

She’s relieved to note that there are two big, ostentatious beds in addition to the smaller (but no less ostentatious) cavalier bed at the foot of one. If by some miracle she does get laid today, she’d really rather it not be in a bed that Ianthe Tridentarius has also slept or - God forbid - boned in. Coronabeth hustles her past the beds (dang) toward a large and opulent bathroom. “Here, get washed up.”

A fluffy purple towel is thrust into Gideon’s hands, there’s a gentle shove at her shoulders and the click of a door shutting, and suddenly Gideon is alone in the fanciest bathroom she’s ever seen. It’s even more ridiculous than the one in the Ninth’s quarters. She catches her own reflection in the mirror and finds that she looks every inch as confused as she is. “What the fuck?” she mouths to herself.

“I don’t hear washing happening!” comes Coronabeth’s mellifluous voice sing-songing through the door.

Gideon Nav fancies herself a remarkably strong person, the kind of person who could move mountains barehanded if she set her mind to it. Apparently, she has one fatal weakness: a beautiful woman telling her to do, well, literally anything. So Gideon obligingly scours the paint off her face - Harrow’ll be furious, but Harrow’s always furious and her paint’s a mess anyway - and inspects herself once more in the mirror. Sexy. Hot. Gorgeous. Little bit of acne at the hairline and around the left nostril, bit ruddy-cheeked from over-scrubbing, but still a flawless masterpiece of hotness.

She sniffs her armpits. Pretty sweaty. Are chicks into that? If they’re going to bone (please, please, please) then won’t she get sweaty again anyway?

Wait, are they going to bone? They are, right? They’re alone in Corona’s quarters, her terrifying sister and their insufferable cav have clearly been sent away, and Corona’s super hot and bossing her around and dragging her into her bedroom (well, through her bedroom to her bathroom, but still). If this were one of Gideon’s magazines she'd already be up to her wrist, or at least majorly winning at tonsil hockey. This is literally a textbook scenario for boning.

Okay, then. It’s on. So now what? Should she brush her teeth or something? Her breath’s probably pretty rank after the morning she’s had. Should she, like… shave stuff?

“You may draw a bath, if you like,” Corona calls through the door again. “Ianthe and Babs will be gone for hours. And something tells me that you have never been pampered.”

And so Gideon ends up taking the first ever bath of her life in the gilded bathtub of the Third. She can’t bring herself to fill the tub more than a couple of inches, even though from her skin mags and her comics she knows a bath is usually filled until the person in it is all but drowning, or at least until the bubbles are tastefully covering the good bits (comics) or just barely not covering them (skin mags). She does throw in several of the weird perfumy things hanging out around the tub at Corona’s urging. By the end of it, she’s pretty sure she’s dirtier than when she stepped in except that now she’s filthy with scented soaps and salts and glittery “bath bombs” (surprisingly not that violent but also surprisingly messy) instead of sweat and blood. She scrapes and scrubs at herself and then gives her body and her clothes a good shake out in the sonic for good measure. She borrows some toothpaste and uses her finger as a toothbrush, then rinses with borrowed mouthwash.

There’s a fluffy purple and gold robe that smells a bit like Corona’s perfume and seems the right size, so even though it’s a million miles off from her usual aesthetic she consents to shrug it on. It’s impossibly soft and warm and smooth. Stops a bit short on her thighs, but presumably that won’t get any complaints.

When she steps back out into the Third’s quarters, Gideon feels strangely vulnerable without her protective layer of filth. She smells like a stranger, and her fingertips and toes are wrinkled in a weird way that she assumes has to do with the bath bombs or maybe with how hard she was scrubbing. That, or she’s picked up some freaky skin disease from the Third’s bathtub. She hopes she’s not about to die or something.

Corona looks beyond delighted to see her emerge, ruddy and steaming, from the bathing chamber in her ludicrous little bathrobe. It’s a shame that it’s short on the leg coverage and heavy on the arm coverage, since Gideon’s legs are fucking awesome but not nearly as impressive as her guns. She wants to ask what Corona has planned for her now, but her stupid oath to Harrow stays her tongue. If all goes well, Coronabeth might have a better use for her tongue than words, anyway. So instead she stands there trying to look impressive rather than panicky and overstimulated.

“Come here,” Corona beckons with an elegant finger, her eyes glittering like shards of polished amethyst. Gideon’s pretty sure that Corona’s not using any necromantic tricks on her - she knows what that shit feels like by now, and it’s vastly unpleasant - but she follows her gesture as inexorably as if Corona were looping a leash of thanergy around her throat and dragging her closer.

And then Coronabeth Tridentarius is touching her. Like, pretty much everywhere. “Hmmm, let’s see,” she murmurs thoughtfully as she palpates what feels like every trembling inch of Gideon’s being (apart from the good bits, but maybe this is what foreplay is? she’s heard of it, but her magazines usually skip straight to the main event). Instead of trying to think, Gideon focuses on feeling, which is much more in her wheelhouse.

Corona’s nimble fingers carding through her damp red locks (they could stand a trim), fingernails sending tingles through her scalp as they scratch gently against skin that’s never been touched in kindness before. Fingertips trailing down the strong line of her jaw, gently seizing her square chin and turning her face to every possible angle, her gaze as palpable as her fingers. Strong hands (how does the Princess of Ida have actual calluses on her fingers?) testing her muscles, examining her hands and paying particular attention to her fingernails (they could also stand a trim).

“You look good in my robe,” Corona announces, taking a step back and allowing Gideon to breathe for what feels like the first time since she set foot in her quarters. “Gold suits you.” She locks eyes with Gideon and quirks her lips into a subtle smirk. “Gold suits you very well.”

Gideon swallows hard, trying not to gulp audibly and concentrating on not sweating through her borrowed robe.

“Much better than black. Not that you look bad in black, mind you, but there are other colors that would be much more flattering for your lovely complexion.”

She takes Gideon by the hand and leads her over to an over-decorated table that Gideon observes is overflowing with cosmetics. “For example… Hmmm… Plum?” Corona holds up a tube of something that’s a deep, bruised purple, examining its contrast with Gideon’s skin. “Or perhaps mauve…”

Coronabeth is insatiable. Gideon is left exhausted. When she finally emerges from the Third House’s quarters (very much not laid), hours have passed and she feels as if she has run a marathon. Not from any outward exertion, but from the effort of holding still and keeping silent throughout the whole ordeal.

She is perhaps the most sexually frustrated she has ever been in her life, having never been touched by a woman (and what a woman!) so much before, or really at all before unless she counts herself or the shriveled crones of the Ninth.

She is also… well. Made over. Her hair has been combed and styled, and it reeks of hair gel almost as badly as Naberius Tern’s does on an average day. Her nails have been trimmed, filed, and buffed smooth before being painted a soft lilac and accented with shimmering gold. Her face has been rendered utterly unrecognizable; Harrowhark would likely envy the sheer amount of makeup on it if only it were in the design of a skull rather than whatever peacocky nonsense Coronabeth’s done to it. She is, at least, in her own black robes despite Coronabeth’s best efforts to get her to borrow some of Babs’s gaudy frippery.

She suspects she has, in fact, been fucked by the Third after all.

She slinks down the hall as stealthily as she can manage, thanking her lucky stars that her necro is probably half-dead in a bone or buried up to her pointy little goblin ears in ancient books or possibly both rather than being a normal, decent human being who might give a fuck where her cavalier has vanished off to for hours on end with one of her greatest rivals. She’s hoping that everyone else in Canaan House will be equally preoccupied and that she’ll be able to return to the safety of her chambers with her dignity at least partially intact when she rounds a corner and nearly faceplants directly into the solid mass of Camilla the Sixth.

Gideon draws herself up to her fullest and most imposing posture and tries to mask her humiliation as best she can. Camilla observes her cooly, but Gideon swears her fellow cav is just barely holding back a laugh.

After a small but excruciating eternity in limbo, Camilla steps aside to let Gideon dart gratefully past. Camilla casts a few words over her shoulder as Gideon passes, and they follow her burning ears all the way down the hall and back to her quarters: “You look like hell, Nav.”

#prompt fill #prompt fic #ghost writes #prompt ghost #postfuguestate #gideon the ninth #GtN #gideon nav #coronabeth tridentarius #fanfic

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