#the ear cuff/cartilage earring -- END ME | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dragonmuse · 2 years ago

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(Is this more 'I may be bad, but I'm prefectly good at it'. Yes! Is it one of the waiting asks...no. Because while there was clear concern about what Lucius would do if Izzy was injured, no one has yet thought to ask...what would Lucius do if something happened to Jim?

CW: Violence. So much violence. Also works as a summary! )

“Mail call,” Read tapped on the open office door. Lucius and Jim rarely closed it, but they both appreciated a little courtesy.

“Anything look interesting?” Lucius set down his tablet.

“Mm, bills and things. Sorted those out to take home to Izzy already, but there was a FedEx envelope addressed directly to you.”

Lucius frowned and held out his hand. She gave it over, hovering as he sliced it open with one of Jim’s older knives. He’d always been fond of it with its jeweled inset hilt. They’d given it up as unbalanced and now he kept it on his desk.

From the envelope, he pulled another envelope.

“Wasteful,” he tutted, then sliced that one open too, pulling free a folded bit of notebook paper and a small ziplock bag.

The bag was dotted in blood. The earring inside gleamed. He had put that in Jim’s ear himself for their thirtieth birthday, a cuff for their cartilage piercing, a snake coiled high on their ear. The stainless steel of it landed on his desk with on the quietest ‘tink’.

“Fuck,” Read said under her breath.

Lucius opened the letter, keeping his breathing deep and even.

“Mr. Spriggs,” he read off, “your incursion on our territory has gone on long enough. We have attempted to make that clear to you several times. The time for polite discussion is over. Call the following number and we will discuss our terms.”

“The Piper family?” Read guessed. She had gone pale, her eyes on the bag. “They don’t actually have Jim, do they?”

Lucius grabbed his phone and hit Oluwande’s name. It rang a few times and Lucius mind was blank, a white fuzz. He could not allow thought or feeling in.

“Luc?” Oluwande picked up. “It’s Jim’s day off, you know.”

“Are they with you?” He demanded.

“No, they were going to run a few errands, then go for a run.”

“How long have they been gone?”

“Shit,” Read whispered behind him.

“Couple of hours, maybe? I was half-asleep when they left. What’s-”

“If they walk through the door, you call me immediately, understood?”

“Why don’t you call them?” Oluwande was catching on, tension rising.

“Because if they’re not on the other end, I’m not interested in alerting whoever is that I’m looking already,” Lucius got to his feet.

“What’s going on? Should I be worried?”

“No. Because I’m going to take care of it,” Lucius hung up. “Read, bring the car around and have it running. I’ll be down as soon as I have an address.”

“Yes, Lucius,” she took off.

He crossed into Charlie’s office. Charlie had massive headphones on, concentration narrowed to his work. As soon as Lucius darkened the doorway, the spacebar was hit and the headphones came off.

“What’s up?”

“The Pipers have Jim,” Lucius growled. “I want the list of every property they’ve ever used for elicit shit and I want eyes in the sky.”

“On it!” Charlie didn’t hesitate, hands flying onto the keyboard. “Details?”

“Narrow perimeter to what can be reached by car in two hours. They had to incapacitate them entirely to make this work, they wouldn’t fuck around with planes or helicopters,” Lucius forced himself to think. “They’d need time to get the package to me, it looks legitimately FedEx’ed, so even rush, that’s an hour...two hours max by car. Maybe less. Probably within the city, but keep it open just in case.”

“I have the list of most of their spots already,” Charlie started pulling things up. “After the last ‘conversation’ seemed prudent.”

“Knock off any of the ones we’ve put on eyes on. I’d assume with this level of pettiness, they’ve figured out we’re scoping them out.”

“Got it.”

Lucius turned on his heels and went back into his office. With gritted teeth, he unbuttoned his shirt. This was not a day for Gucci. Halfway down, he ripped a button off in frustration and watched it ping across the room. Fine. He’d fix it later or throw it out. Shirt flung at the chair, he took off his marroned tassel shoes. Then he went to Jim’s side of the office, slid open the panel and took out a shapeless black hoodie, drawing it on. Steeled toed boots went on his feet, laces tied like he was trying to garotte his feet. The keycoded locker at the bottom opened to his stabbing finger and yielded up a few old friends.

“I got something!” Charlie yelled.

“Just one?” Lucius tightened a buckle.

“It’s got to be it, come see!”

Lucius crossed back into Charlie’s office and this time went around the desk. The monitor had a bland grouping of rectanglular buildings dotted with painfully even greenery.

“Corporate park,” Charlie explained. “There’s a whole suite of offices owned by one their shell companies and the warehouse behind it. Far as I can tell they do actually run a dry good distribution business out of it. I used satellite to track the morning traffic.”

He clicked into another window and showed a lone dark car pulling up to the back in the wee hours.

“No closer view?”

“Once you get close, I can maybe kite into the security cameras systems, but not from here.”

“Keep looking for other locations while we’re on route.” Lucius decides. “How far?

“Forty minutes.”

Lucius thread a hand into Charlie’s hair, yanked his head back and gave him a wet biting kiss, then released him.

“Stay in my ear.”

“Always,” Charlie handed him a comm. “Get them back.”

He store out of the office. When the elevator closed behind him, Lucius took out his phone again. He could do this on his own if he had to, but he wanted to bring every weapon he had. He hesitated only for an instant than made the call.

“What’s wrong?”

“Hi,” Lucius knew he sounded wrong it couldn’t bring himself to fix it. He had slid backwards in time. “I won’t be home for dinner, but I thought I could make it up to you. Want to go out dancing?”

One quick inhalation came over the phone. The voice that replied was not vague, not sleepy or checked out, “Send me the address.”

“On it.” Lucius' heart gave a betraying flutter. “I love you.”

He hung before there could be an answering reply. He texted the address as he walked out of the building into the passenger seat of the burner car.

“Where?” Read shot him a look.

“Get on the highway, I’ll give you directions.”

She gunned the engine. But he shook his head, “If we get pulled over, it’s precious time. Charlie is looking at the building, not the radar.”

“But-”

“We’d save seconds, unless we get pulled over and then we lose minutes.”

Read didn’t argue with that. She did stay in the left lane, but he was hardly going to argue the details. Now that most of what he could do was done and he was left just to sit there, he had to fight hard not to spiral. No one touched Jim. Mostly because Jim was faster and cleverer than most idiots put together. If they’d gotten the drop on them, it would’ve been either an ugly fight or something truly underhanded. Given that Jim hadn’t had time to send an alert, underhanded it was.

Turning through his mind was a list of Jim’s errand locations, their neighbors, and all the other incidental people that everyone had to deal with everyday. There was no perfect vacuum, but they had gone a long time being able to pretend they were both untouchable. Not that they’d ever gotten relaxed, but they had maybe gotten accustomed.

When this was done, Lucius was going to figure out where the leak had sprung from and close it up so hard and fast that someone’s head would spin off their neck.

“Boss?” Read prompted. “Exit?”

“Twenty-two,” he muttered.

“You going to be okay? You look kind of...”

“Kind of what?” he glanced at her. Didn’t yell. Read was solid. You don’t alienate solid people. Even if he wanted her to wither to dust just then.

“You know what? Nothing,” she decided. “I would be worse if it was Anne. I’ll just get us there.”

“Thank you,” he said and rested his forehead against the glass.

Pushing the edges of what would gain notice, Read got them there in thirty-seven minutes. At his direction, they parked several buildings away.

“Luc, there’s been some activity,” Charlie chimed before he could ask for an update. “Two more cars have showed, none have left. Cars that came in are both black, long. Maybe town cars? I can’t see. Are you close enough to pick up the WiFi?”

Lucius handed Read the phone. “Teenage dirtbag time.”

“On it.” She got out of the car and popped in her comm. From the back seat, she yanked out skateboard and pulled a beanie over her hair. With a rounding of her shoulders, she still sold the part.

She skateboarded out of sight. A minute later, Lucius heard the roar of a bike. He waited, watched as it pulled up alongside the car. The driver’s side door opened and a man in black slid in.

“Sit rep?”

“Read is trying to get Charlie patched into the building,” Lucius grimaced “Pipers have gotten big. Not dumb enough for my taste, but they love a movie moment. My bet is they’ve got Jim in the warehouse. If I make the phonecall, they’ll want to meet at some tacky ass resturant and then do some fucking trade skanky back alley. Two cars came in late, probably head of house.”

“That still Terry?”

“Yeah. The other one is probably his son, you remember him?”

Lucius turned Izzy at last. He was in his old tried and true, leather vest still laying perfectly over the black button down. They had done so many jobs like this: Lucius learning in the passenger seat, Izzy giving his terse lessons, really teaching more by doing. An echo of a different time. It made his chest ache which he couldn’t afford.

“Weaselly guy, skinny as a rail,” Izzy nodded. “...Philip.”

“That’s him.”

“Where do you want me?”

Because Lucius didn’t need to learn much anymore. And if he did, it wasn’t Izzy teaching him. This was his show and they both knew it.

“Distraction and penetration,” Lucius said without a hint of innuendo. “As lowkey as you can. Read is more blunt force, but you’ll have her if you want her.”

“I’ll take her,” Izzy nodded shortly. “We can go faster operating together. Comm?”

Lucius opened the glove compartment and pulled out the extra.

“Charlie, we’re adding a line.”

“What?” Charlie chirped in. “Who?”

“Hey sweetheart,” Izzy said gently as he popped in the earpiece.

“Oh shit,” Charlie’s voice pitched upwards in excitement. “Read had better get me in, I want to watch you work.”

“Not at the top of my game anymore,” Izzy huffed.

“Whatever, I bet your low bar is my high jump. I wanna watch.....hell yeah! I’ve got eyes and ears, gents. Fucking-A, they have a bad IT guy. Thanks, Read.”

“There’s a few guys out here,” Read put in. “I make four walking the grounds. One of ‘em used to work for the Lazarus Group. Is my cover still good with them, C?”

“Uh....checking......yeah, yeah, you came out of that operation clean. You went by Tina, you want more details?”

“Still pretty clear,” she assured him. “Want me to do a friendly, boss?”

“Perfect. I’m sending in backup for you. Listen to him, got it?”

“I always listen to him,” Read snorted. “Who else is going to save me from myself?”

“Damn right,” Izzy barked a laugh. None of them sounded particularly amused and Lucius was grateful that he didn’t have to be the tone police right now. Genuine humor would’ve made him rabid.

“C,” Lucius closed his eyes, “Where’s my entrance?”

“Grand or subtle?”

“Subtle.”

A tense silence.

“Got it, the offices next store are empty, but one of the fire doors leads into their warehouse. Probably a safety violation, but works in our favor. The line is dead from the back payments, nothing should go off, but the emergency bar should still work. Alternative-”

“Tell me the alternate only if the first one doesn’t work,” Lucius bit off. “No time for plan Bs. They know I haven’t called yet, they’ll get antsy. Any questions?”

Silence.

Lucius exhaled and opened his door, “Go,”

It was still broad daylight, but Izzy was remarkably good at melting into the few shadows left to him. Lucius didn’t bother trying, he just walked unassuming around the building and waited his three minutes pretending to be lost and looking at his phone as he wandered closer.

“They’ve got all the perimeter guards down,” Charlie said in his ear. “The back right window of the abandoned office is cracked open.”

Lucius tapped the comm rather than reply, a signal that he was going quiet, but was fine. He moved across the lawn separating the two buildings. The cracked window was there, a little higher than he could’ve asked for. This kind of gymnastics was Jim’s specialty, but he did keep in shape in his own way.

With a running leap, he got hold, scrambled and got enough purchase. It was a sweaty, awkward maneuver to get the window to open wider, but he made it and slid gracelessly to the floor. The office was as empty as Charlie had promised.

“Door?”

“Down the hall and on the left.”

“Anyone on the other side?”

“The hall is clear.”

Lucius bolted and went through the door heedlessly. On the other side, he drew out his gun and attached the silencer.

“Get me to the warehouse.”

“Go right, there’s a guy pacing back and forth, I can time you to get by him. Or do you want a run in?”

“Time me.”

Charlie got him through two more doors and then he was in the warehouse. It wasn’t large as those things went, but it was clearly a working business, the shelves groaning with inventory and desks and the debris of life in the way. There were no people immediately visible.

“Sorry, Luc, no cameras in here.”

That figured. Annoying, but meant that if they had Jim, it was likely here. No cameras in the dirtiest spots. He kept quiet and moved slowly. Jim had always told him if he wasn’t able to be quiet to at least move slow. Too quick was a recipe for disaster.

The sound of voices whispered down through the back right corner. Lucius ducked around and there was Jim. They had wisely tied them down to a chair, each ankle to a rung and wrists separately zip tied to the back. The lighting was bad, but Lucius could see blood trickling from one ear and a rising bruise around one eye. They were breathing. That mattered more than anything else. Other things were fixable.

If Jim died…no. No.

No.

He wouldn’t think about that.

There were three men around the chair. Foolish. An underestimation of Jim’s skills. Lucius inhaled, exhaled. Waited for one to come close to his hiding place. Then he lashed out and buried the knife into the man’s neck, drawing him close as a shield, got out his gun and shot the other two. It took four bullets, but they fell before they drew their own weapons. A fifth ended the guy in his arms as Lucius pushed him to the floor.

He kept his gun out, even as he went to Jim, crouching in front of them.

“Jim?” He asked as he pulled out his smaller knife.

“Luc,” they groaned, eyes flickering open. “Left ankle. Think they broke it while I was out.”

He clipped that restraint first, careful as he could. “You ear?”

“They ripped the earring out,” they sighed. “Going to have to pierce the other one.”

“I’ll get it done with you this time.,” he promised. “Make a night of it.”

He reached into his pocket as he got their wrists and pulled out the comm, fitting it to their ear.

“Hey,” they said gruffly.

“Jim!” Charlie fire out happily.

“C. There’s at least fifteen grunts doing donuts around the place. Maybe more.”

“Team got six already.”

The radio next to Lucius’ foot crackled.

“Intel team, report in,” someone demanded.

“I want the duo hacking towards father and son,” Lucius kicked the radio away, then got Jim free. “They don’t get to leave.”

“Relaying,” Charlie said.

“Not sure I can stand,” Jim admitted as Lucius faced them.

“Then we’ll make it work,” Lucius slid his arms under their armpits and heaved them up into a tight embrace. Jim held him back. For a single beat they cling to each other. Then Jim’s hand found it’s way into his waistband, seizing on the weight there.

“Sentimental,” they smiled against his neck.

“Just for you,” he agreed and raised his gun, taking most of their weight. “I’ve got your back if you’ve got mine.”

“Always. Ready, my hyena?”

“If you are, dear coyote.”

The doors banged open, bodies streamed in. Jim raised their arm, their old favorite gun in hand. They’d kept it in the weapons storage locker and Lucius had grabbed it partially because he knew it was loaded, partially because as Jim had accused, he had some sentiment left in his heart. He balanced over their right shoulder, and then it was a shootout.

“Fuck,” Jim hopped a little trying to get a better angle.

Lucius picked off another man, “Jump.”

Jim skipped upward and he grabbed them under the thighs with his free hand. Their legs went around his waist, rebalanced and they didn’t miss a beat. Groans and grunts filled the space and Lucius started back the way he’d come, Jim keeping an eye on his back, legs locked until they were in hall that Charlie pronounced,

“Clear.”

Jim slid down, grabbing Lucius’ shoulder for balance. “I can hop.”

“You tell me if you need to stop,” he slid his left arm around their waist. “I can carry you if I need to.”

“For how long?”

“For as long as it fucking takes.”

For a brief second, Jim rested their cheek against his shoulder, then nodded.

“Fine,” they said tightly. “Charlie, sit rep.”

“Team is closing in. Hostiles are down to targets and their bodyguards.

“Team,” Lucius went a little looser. He had Jim. The rest was point proving, “hold. Find positions. We’re coming in.”

“Hell yeah,” Read whispered into the comms, “I saw a good spot...and he’s gone. Wow. That’s so fucking cool.”

“Right?” Charlie said over comms, his giddiness matching Lucius' own rising dark glee.

“Fan club later.”

“Fan club over who?” Jim frowned.

“You’ll see,” Lucius was laughing now, the rising tide of a laugh that had earned him his codename from Jim long ago.

It always made them burst a little too.

Which was how they came into the office of the Pipers, four beefy bodyguards holding them down the sights of their gun as they laughed their way inside. Terry Piper sat behind a big desk, two guest chairs laid out on the other side. Philip, who was indeed quite the weasley type, stood just behind him.

“Do you usually laugh at your own execution?” Terry eyed them warily. “What is wrong with you, Spriggs? We could’ve worked this out like reasonable men.”

“Oh could we have?” Lucius smiled wide at him. “Was it reasonable to take my partner from under my nose? Jim, did it feel reasonable?”

“It fucking well didn’t.”

“Mm.”

“We tried other ways. But clearly you are a mad dog,” Terry went on, “and mad dogs should be put down.”

“Why are you only talking to me?” Lucius sighed. “Is it sexism or racism? What do you think, Jim?”

“Why not both?” They asked dryly. “It’s usually both.”

“We’re not doing PC bullshit right now,” Terry got to his feet, turning red. “I am threatening your fucking life with the odds very much against you.”

“Are they?” Jim blinked. “I don’t see a threat.”

“I mean the one on the right can probably throw a hell of a punch,” Lucius allowed. “The guy behind him....did I suck your dick in Nirvana once?”

“Shut up!” the guy twitched.

“Yeah. It was eh, honestly. C, why does no one ever wash their fucking balls enough?”

“Oh my god,” Charlie was snickering into the comms. “I ask myself that once a week.”

“You listen to me, you jumped up fairy-”

“Now would be good,” Lucius decided.

Shots rang out. The bodyguards went down. Izzy and Read came from oppisote sides of the room until their guns kissed the backs of Terry and Phillip’s necks respectively.

“You brought him in?” Jim clung to Lucius’ tighter. “Luc.”

“For you, I’d bring in the moon,” he kissed their cheek, just missing the rising bruise. “C’mon, you should sit down.”

“Yeah, all right.”

Lucius got them settled in one of the chairs that had been setup for them and then slumped down into another.

“C, how are we sitting on outside attention?”

“No dispatches,” Charlie hummed, “no one looky-looing in the parking lot. It’s isolated. Building is big, you’re through about five walls right now in the front, backs out onto the river. I’ll keep out an ear, but I think you’re golden.”

“Beautiful,” Lucius stretched his legs out in front of him. “Your play.”

“Mm,” Jim hissed a little as they shifted, then rolled their neck until something clicked. When their eyes rose up to meet Terry’s they were as cold as the arctic. “Seems to me we have a few options here, Terry. I know you’ve got a few layers beneath you. Probably already signaled to them that things were going south. But I’ll guess they aren’t close.

“You got the drop on me, congru-fucking-lations. Here’s your courtesy prize: I will give you some say in the outcome of all this.”

“Even if you kill us both, our organization is ten times the size of yours.”

“Is it?” Jim nodded slowly. “Good for you. So. Options. We can leave you alive, you pack up your shit and you take your operations back to the city you came from. You could live a good life there, still be rich and operate so far out of our reach that we won’t even think of your name again.”

“Fuck you,” Terry spat. “We’ve put down deep roots here. For longer than you’ve been alive.”

“Mm, you might want to hear all the options,” Jim went on. “Because option two, is we kill you and Phillip here agrees to do the same.”

“Never!” Philip’s lips said. ‘I’m listening’, said the eyes. Point to Jim.

Terry went silent, nostrils flaring, “Option three is you take me out and everyone in my org hunts for your blood until your smears on the ground.”

“Charlie, speaker,” Jim ordered.

“Sure thing,” his voice rang out from the comms, coming from every direction.

“Tell the man how loyal his org is.”

“Okay, so our plant has only been in for...mm, let’s round up to a month. They’ve reported high dissatisfaction. I alerted him while you guys were driving and he picked off a few of the malcontents pretty easily, then offered some serious cash to the ones on the fence. Offered jobs to the two that you picked out earlier, Jim....so...mm. That’s thirty or so men?”

Lucius whistled low, “What’s that bring them down to size-wise versus us?”

“Seven times,” Charlie went on. “Which would be a problem, but half of those are background staffers, not gunmen. I suppose you could arm them, but it’s a little late in the game for that. So let’s cut it down to three times.”

“And C,” Jim tipped their head back to study the ceiling. “How many of those remaining men were here today?”

“Twenty.”

“How many are left alive?”

“Four.”

“My math isn’t strong,” Jim said to the ceiling. “But I think that makes us nearly even.”

“Close enough,” Lucius agreed.

“So,” Jim went on, “let’s say this. I’m not fucking impressed by your numbers or your threats. What I have is you and a gun to your head. Your actual option three is....no option three. Either you do what we ask or we kill down the line of command until someone does.”

“No one operates like this anymore!” Terry gritted out. “This is how people get caught, don’t you understand that? You can plow through people in this day and age. No one will work with you, your tainted goods!”

“Oof,” Lucius rubbed his chest. “Hurtful.”

Jim lifted their head, and then reached into their pocket pulling out the knife that Lucius had been carrying. “So option two then.”

They threw it with precision and Izzy let the body slump over the desk. All eyes went to Phillip.

“I think we’ve seen enough blood today,” Phillip swallowed thickly. “Really. I’ve always hated this city anyway. We’ll go.”

“Do you have the support for that?” Jim wondered.

“Good question,” Lucius said.

Read and Izzy were still looking a little twitchy. Phillip nodded rapidly, “If I don’t, then I’ll uproot as much as I can and tell you what’s staying behind, how about that?”

“That counts on us having a lot of trust and good will, Phillip,” Lucius tsked. “Might be out of that today.”

“We know about vengeance,” Jim said solemnly, leaning over to pull their knife back out. “And how ruthless it can be.”

“I hated the old man,” Phillip looked at the body with distaste. “Ask anyone.”

“It’s true,” Charlie was back in just their ears. “Our plant says they fight all the time. Bitter stuff. Threatening to be disowned, yada yada.”

“Leave him then,” Jim decided, then glanced at Lucius.

“Yes,” Lucius agreed. “All right. We leave our plant, you don’t fucking look for them. If we hear you are, then we take that as an act of war. Understood?”

“Understood,” Phililp said readily.

“We’ll withdraw them on the day the last of the Pipers leave the city. If we hear of anyone tipping off other families. War. If we find out you’re lying to us. War. If you ask one nosy question we don’t like. War. And if you’re fucking stupid enough to try law enforcement. War.” Jim reached for Lucius’ forearm, standing up carefully. “We will be watching you, Phillip Piper. Luc?”

“Yes?”

“I’d like to go home.”

“Then home we go.” He got to his feet, got his shoulder under their arm and led them out the door with perfect confidence that Izzy and Read were covering them.

None of them spoke as they passed through the halls and back out into the cloudless sunny day. Even Charlie was quiet. When they got to the car, Read helped Jim into the backseat. While Izzy bent over their ankle, inspecting without touching.

“You can’t fuck around with this,” he declared. “Above my pay grade.”

“We don’t pay you to heal us,” Jim grunted.

No one offered a response to that, least of all Izzy.

“Hospital outing!” Lucius clapped his hands together. “But first clean change for everyone and maybe we all wash our hands, huh?”

There was a cache not far from corporate and Lucius kicked Read out of the car to carefully help Jim change their pants. The sock on their broken foot had to be left, but blood there could be explained away.

“Don’t need shoes,” they decided. “I got jumped coming home from the grocery store. File a police report when we get there.”

“Is that what happened?” He asked, hand on their knee.

“My arms were full,” they grimaced. “And it was broad daylight. Crowded street. Someone had a brain. Kicked me in the ankle first, hard. Probably at least started the break then. I went down and before could get up, they faked a Good Samaritan ‘helping’ picking up the groceries and clocked me on the head. I didn’t go out, but everything went gray for a second. Long enough.”

“Head wound?”

“Probably,” they closed their eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“How dare you be infallible,” he said lightly.

“Luc. I know, okay? You can joke, but you’re pissed.”

“I’m not,” he squeezed their knee. “I’m not. We’ve been so lucky. And maybe we needed the reminder.”

“Could’ve done without it.”

“Same.”

“You think Izzy will go back home after this?”

“Where else would he go?”

“You know what I mean.”

Lucius rested his forehead on Jim’s knee. Their hand went into his hair, scratching gently at his scalp.

“I think so. He only came out for you.”

“He’s still fast as hell.”

“Mm.”

“You sleep next to him.”

“I do.”

“Don’t hold groceries in both hands, hyena.”

“I won’t,” he promised. “Let’s get you seen too.”

“Oluwande?” they asked, voice a little small.

“Of course. I’ll send a service for him.”

When they went into surgery, Izzy turned to Lucius, eyes bright and sharp.

“It was good to see you work,” he said simply.

“Thanks, darling,” Lucius smiled at him. Izzy leaned in and brushed a kiss over Lucius’ cheek.

“Do you want Jim and Oluwande to stay with us tonight?”

“Oh yes,” relief rushed through him. He hadn’t even considered it, but yes obviously he wanted them close.

“I’ll make oxtail soup,” Izzy nodded.

“Their favorite,” Lucius summoned a smile for him. “You’re too good to us, you know that, right?”

“Just doing what needs doing.”

Izzy went back home once Jim’s was out, a little dopey, but relaxed and with a good prognosis. He made soup that they all ate, including Read and Charlie, at the big dining room table. The downstairs guest room was made up for Jim, who couldn’t tackle the stairs to their usual set aside room.

Lucius slept easily, one hand resting over Izzy’s heart. His other hand he kept under the pillow. Ready. Just in case.

A month later, the last of the Pipers fled the city. A few of the older, more dedicated members needed a little persuasion, but in the end it was mostly painless. The new recruits, who had defected, were given the territory to run with the understanding they answered to Jim ultimately. No one argued.

Jim had a cast for six weeks, then went into intense physical therapy, relentless with themselves. The day came when no one would know anything had ever happened. Lucius and Jim went to their favorite tattoo parlor and got fresh piercings. Jim’s torn out earring went into his ear and he gave them a new one, very similar with two bright emeralds in the snake’s eyes.

“Why did you take theirs?” Charlie asked when Lucius ducked back into the office to fetch him.

“A reminder,” Lucius leaned in the doorway. He was tired today, too much anticipation over the appointment wearing him thin. Ridiculous that he was more worried about a needle in his ear than a gun pointed at his head, but these things never did make sense.

“Of what?” Charlie approached, sliding an arm around Lucius’ waist.

“That everyone bleeds,” Lucius pulled Charlie hard against him, kissed whatever questions might have followed away. “Come one. We’ll be late for dinner.”

#leda house and the kraken verse #ficlet #i may be bad but i'm perfectly good at it

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lovecorepatton · 2 years ago

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[id: a drawing of patton sanders, a thin white person. he has shoulder length brown hair that is dyed teal underneath. patton has pink square framed glasses, two cartilage piercings, a septum piercing, braces, leg hair and a star and heart earring. she wears a light cyan polo and khaki cargo shorts with a pink plastic waist chain. he has rainbow crew socks, nonbinary arm cuffs, and nails painted in the aspec flag colors. she has an aromantic flag tied around his shoulders. he grins and makes a heart with her hands, and there is a glowing white diamond shape in the heart. the background is light teal. the lineart is slightly offset to give the drawing a slight glitch effect. end id]

this was. for pride month anyways. patton's aromantic and nonbinary (canon) she told me herself!!!

#patton sanders

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lenle-g · 4 years ago

Photo

Oh absolutely! <3333

Scott, making his way up to their Father's desk ready to slide his completed mission report into the holo-records, has no idea that his astronaut brother is even home until he discovers a pale, John-shaped lump sprawled limply in the middle of their circle of sofas.

“What the…?” Scott’s breath catches, his eyes blow wide. His heart does a funny, sharp twisting thing in the middle of his chest that it's probably really not supposed to, and there's a beat or two of pure, unacceptable shock in which Scott's world just tunnels in on the presence of what is clearly blood smeared across John's lax, waxy face.

Big brother's chest attempts a hitched, stunted thing that can only be called breathing in the barest sense before Scott is sprinting across their living space and bellowing into the Comm watch at his wrist for help.

“virGIL?!?” Scott trips down the step and into the circle and, in an action his patella will regret later, crashes hard to his knees at his unconscious brother's side, yelling his head off for the most experienced medic in the family as he does so. “VIRGIL! GET IN HERE, NOW!"

The ‘on my way’ is instantaneous - Scott’s tone had clearly sparked a need for speed. No time to do anything but pull up the GPS location and run because there's a messy line of blood leaking from the astronaut’s nose, similar splotches of red pooling in his ears and an awful jagged slash scabbing across his forehead. John's breathing is light and shallow, his skin tone verging on grey and, perhaps most worryingly, he hasn’t responded at all to all the shouting Scott’s been doing and that’s just strikingly wrong. John's always first awake, first to respond - the young man has to be up and about in an instant if any of Thunderbird Five's alarms sound and so he’s trained to spring awake and into action at the slightest thing. They have to be careful not to walk past his room at night, for goodness sake, in case the sound of feet in the corridor wakes him.

This is not right.

Scott takes a sharp breath, the air like glass and his heart racing with terror as he reaches a fearful hand toward his sibling.

"John?" He tries, his fingers bumping against a hard chest. He lays his palm flat over his brother's heart and gives him a shake. "Hey Johnny, come on, wake up." John’s head lolls limply with the motion, and Scott feels a little sick at it, but gets no other obvious results.

"Ok.” He says aloud to himself, trying to think past the rising gorge of panic in his throat. He feels like a deer in headlights in a way he never would on a rescue. "Think Scott!" He slaps a palm against his own forehead, starting to get angry with himself now. "Patient non-responsive. What do you do?" Try and wake them up seems like the obvious answer, though that's failing so far.

Should he roll him into the recovery position, or should he not move him at all? Should he pinch his nose shut or might he choke? Should he...

"Come on John." Scott taps his brother's cheek softly, then a little harder, getting desperate to stir some kind of response now. Scott has to make a conscious effort to avoid getting blood on his fingers from the sheer amount of it that’s smeared across his brother’s face, still leaking sluggishly from John’s nose and spotted on the cushion that's supporting his head from where it's dripped from his ears. There's blood on the astronaut’s fingertips like he'd been trying to stem the flow before he'd passed out.

Hell. That’s not a sign of anything good.

A hundred horrifying scenarios come to mind. There’s so much that can go wrong living in space, and it can go wrong so quickly that you don’t even know you’re in danger until you’re dead. John could be dying right now in front of him and Scott doesn’t know what to...

"Scott! What's going…?" Virgil, skidding into the room with slippery socks against polished wood, trails off as he goes through a similar process of discovery shock to Scott’s, his eyes wide as saucers. “Jesus.” He says before he can stop himself. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Scott can barely breathe around the anxiety. His whole mouth tastes like it's crammed full of fizzy static terror. He scoots around the back of the sofa, leaning over it to give Virgil, who's had the sense to grab a medkit from the wall, more room to work. “I just found him like this.” Scott explains, “How can I help?” He's kept his palm against his brother’s chest the whole time - the feeling of John's heart fluttering beneath his fingertips is the only thing keeping him from freaking out right now.

Virgil’s knelt at John’s side, his fingers pressed to the pulse at his brother’s wrist. There's a deep, worried furrow between his thick eyebrow.

"Oxygen?" Scott suggests, loitering nervously, but Virgil shakes his head.

"Wait till the bleed stops. His BMP is a little fast. Help me roll him on his side so he's less likely to choke." Scott, complying, nearly kicks himself for not doing that earlier. It's hard to ignore how limp and silent their brother is as they do so - there's something incredibly unsettling about just how floppy he is - like a dead thing washed up on the beach.

Virgil distracts Scott by handing him a pair of latex gloves, snapping a pair on over his own fingers to match. He guides his brother's hand to pinch John's nose hard around the cartilage, clearly hoping it'll stem the bleed. Scott grimaces like he's just been asked to chop the man's leg off, but, to his credit, he holds on tight.

"What's brought this on then, hmm John?" Virgil asks, busy wrapping a pressure cuff around a limp forearm. "Some kind of sudden onset space-related injury?" He muses, inflating the cuff, honey brown eyes glued to the numbers, "Something must have gone wrong with re-entry.”

He guesses, “A change in pressure in his head from being back on the planet could have ruptured something."

And John's just been up here bleeding, alone, for who knows how long.

“Ah, his blood pressure is sky high.” Virgil reports the result grimly, noting them and his other readings down holographically at his wrist. "Barotrauma makes sense." It also means that this isn’t going to be a quick fix, John could be out of action for weeks. But what’s happened has happened and all they can do now is treat the symptoms.

“Right. Let’s get him patched up. Astronauts typically lose ten to fourteen percent of their blood volume while up in space,” Virgil explains, ripping open a packet of steri-stips with his teeth and fumbling to peel one from its backing with his big fingers. “It usually takes a day or two home to regain it, so keep holding his nose while I patch up this cut. John can’t afford to lose much extra right now.”

Virgil pinches the gash together and works on sticking a neat, clean line of steri strips along it to try and keep it from bleeding.

"He's had long enough to get changed out of his spacesuit." Scott points out, he's been thinking about this while he watches his brother work. "But he didn’t flag anything up with us. It must have happened pretty suddenly." Only that doesn't quite add up because the angry red scrape at his temple that Virgil’s precautionarily sticking back together suggests some kind of earlier accident that they should have known about. “The way he’s hit his head looks like he collapsed, but there’s nothing hard to hit it on here.” There's anxious sweat, sticky around Scott's collar at the puzzle of it all. “Why wouldn’t he have called us?” His fingers ball into tight fists, his nails digging hard into his palms. Both rows of perfect teeth press hard against each other, grinding on his rising anger.

"I don't kn…" Virgil starts, but then stops, abruptly. Scott nearly drowns in a wave of terror that John's just died or something, but then he notices the same flutter of ginger lashes that his brother clearly has.

John’s coming round.

"John?" Scott prompts carefully, leaning further over the back of the sofa in a way that has Virgil worried that he's going to end up on top of them. "Hey, can you hear me, bro?" There's a pinched, pained scrunch appearing on their sibling’s forehead, tugging at the new plastic stitches. Slowly, the fluttering turns into blinking, but it takes a minute or two for hazy blue-green eyes to work out what focus is.

“John.” The relief in Virgil’s voice is almost palpable. “Do you know where you are? Do you remember what happened?”

It seems a bit early for interrogation. John is blinking glassily at Virgil, his breathing a little hitched. He’s clearly just as confused to be there as the rest of them are. Scott lets up on pinching his nose and both hovering brothers are relieved to find the bleeding seems to have stopped.

“H-Happened?” John eventually asks, blearily. He’s... not sure. All John knows for sure is that he hurts very badly, all over. His head is pounding and the world seems distant and fuzzy like he’s viewing it through a veil of gauze. His brother’s voice sounds muffled and warped, like he’s listening from underwater. "I... I don’t know…" John's mouth shapes the words, though they taste coppery and strange and the vowels sound wet. One of his brother’s presses the hard plastic of an oxygen mask over his mouth and throbbing nose and that doesn't much help his comprehensibility either.

"It’s ok, I should have expected you’d be confused." Virgil smoothes a calming hand the size of a dinner plate gently over his brother's hair, the fine ginger strands slippery between his fingers. "Give it a minute or two, ok? It looks like you hit your head.”

While he waits, Virgil finds a sterile wipe and begins ever so gently cleaning rusty red from John’s skin. A horrific amount of colour leeches out into the fabric as he does so, the stain spreading through the wet fibres and creeping up toward his fingers. John sinks into silence again - staring blankly to the side, blinking lots like he's dizzy even though he’s lying down.

Last thing John really remembers clearly he’d been in the Space Elevator, making his way down from Thunderbird Five. It’d been a rougher ride than usual, but nothing that had screamed imminent danger. Though… if he thinks harder about it, he realises his head had started feeling floaty around halfway down, and there’d been that warning bleep on the 02 readings that he couldn’t explain. He remembers a brief, strange spill of red pressure readings onto his holoscreens, a warning error message, or several, but he would swear they hadn’t felt significant at the time. He’d just felt… floaty and distant. Which should have been a warning sign all of its own.

From the way his head is pounding now, John realises that the craft must have been depressuring around him without him even noticing. It’s a lucky thing that the Elevator is so fast from orbit to Earth. A cold, horrible realisation slithers up John’s spine that, had it been any slower at it, he probably would have died.

"I… the readings were wrong." John manages, though as he does so Virgil notices flecks of blood on his lips and teeth from where it's trickled down the back of his throat. “I think the Elevator was venting atmosphere and I didn’t…” He blinks again, slow and sluggish. “It felt off, but not… I didn’t think anything of it.” He adds. “I… My head hurts.” He squeezes both eyes shut again, his face noticeably growing paler.

“Hang in there J, I’ll give you something for the pain and to lower that BP in a sec,” Virgil promises, his voice considerately much quieter. He lays a palm against his brother’s forehead to feel the heat of it, and is relieved to find it warm but dry. No fever. “We’ll get Brains to check the Elevator over before anyone goes near it again,” Virgil promises, from somewhere above him. “Do you remember hitting your head?”

“I think… uh, I think I fell down the stairs.” The astronaut decides promptly without even opening his eyes, surprising neither of them. “I remember being at the top after getting changed in my room... but I’ve got no memory of anything after that…”

Scott’s got an awful mental image of his brother dragging himself semi-consciously to the sofa before he passed out and feels sick about it.

“Jesus John...” Big brother echoes Virgil’s sentiment from earlier, then trails off, not knowing what else to say. Virgil clearly sees right through him, recognising Scott’s indecision and wallowing fear as something that really won’t help John right now, and shifts into his all-business-get-things-done-mode.

“Right.” The bigger man says, clear cut, “I want to get a brain scan to check everything’s all right in there.” He imagines there’ll be some cerebral swelling and he’ll have to go through all the cognitive and hearing tests, but John seems much more lucid now than he’d anticipated and that’s a good sign. “And we’re having a talk about your platelet count when you're conscious enough to process it." Virgil promises, narrowing his eyes at John, who, to his credit, at least has the decency to look sheepish about it. “If you’re feeling ill from re-entry… more ill than usual,” He corrects himself, “You need to let us know.” There’s a sigh and then Virgil’s voice goes a lot softer. “You shouldn’t feel like the world has to end before you stop working, John. You shouldn’t be working like this at all. If you’re going to live up in space for such long stints you need to…”

“Take the proper precautions. I know, I know.” John rubs a weak hand over his throbbing eyes. He clearly thinks now isn’t the time for a lecture either. “NASA trained, remember?”

“Oh, I remember.” Virgil isn’t letting this one go. “Sometimes you need to remember it too.” He adds, pointedly. “Right, let's get you to bed for now. I'll have to do some scans and a blood test and monitor your pulse and breathing, but I don't see any reason that can't happen in your own room - clean sheets, blackout blinds, the works." He knows the signs that John’s got a space-induced headache from a mile off, and this must be a particular cracker of one, no pun intended. “I'll have to get some saline and glucose in you to bring your levels up to something acceptable." He adds, apologetically, because that means an IV, which John hates, but really it can't be helped. “We'll have to sit with him in shifts.” His focus shifts to Scott. “If he throws up, check for blood and let me know.”

“I’m not gonna throw up.” John tells him, but he doesn’t sound convinced. “Let’s go...” He shifts his bodyweight, his head wobbly and weak and, with both his brother’s diving to provide support, he makes to sit up. The world shutters abruptly into black and white static but, somehow, John remains sitting, waiting for it to pass.

“Hey Virg…” After a few moments, a weak hand curls its long fingers around his wrist, and Virgil finds his bloodied brother looking guiltily up at him. “I… Sorry about this.” There’re flecks of paint at his brother’s cuffs like he’d been interrupted while painting. He turns to his older brother and makes a note of the fear still there. “Scott, I… thankyou.” John breathes, in a rare, awkward moment of vulnerability. “I don’t…” He can’t actually imagine what might have happened if they’d not been there - if he’d been alone like he usually is.

“I’m just glad you’re ok.” Scott presses a warm hand to the back of his brother’s neck, “You sure scared me there, little bro, I thought...” He trails off, leaving Virgil to hum something agreeable in his place as he scoops a thick arm around John’s back.

“Right.” Virgil says again, focusing himself and his brother’s firmly away from the what-ifs, “Time to get you to bed.”

#Thunderbirds #TAG #Thunderbirds Are Go #Thunderbirds 2015 #John Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #yeaHHHH this is my JAM #thanks for the ask omg XDDD #here's... a thing????#yes it's reMARablY similar to the christmas john i did #which is bc i used the line art bc ive been wanting to add blood to it for months XDDDD #yEET I GUESS #tw:blood #tw: injury #just in case <333 #hope this is ok AAAA

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obae-me · 4 years ago

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Tainted Reflections CH 2

Start the story from the beginning!

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Budding Fissures

Warning: Brief mentions of self doubt, negative self talk, murder, violence, and disturbing imagery.

Blood-red hair spilled out from atop their head, the length falling just short of their shoulders. It was wild hair, spiky, but instead of seemingly chaotic, it gave you the intention that it had been styled that way. A long single strand of hair dangled between their eyes, brushing against their nose, and you wondered how it didn’t drive them absolutely crazy. Their horns were crimson as well, albeit quite a few shades darker. If their hair reminded you of blood, their horns resembled the hue of the vital fluid that had been left to dry. Unlike the demons you knew, your company’s horns were a lot smaller, less poignant and intimidating than the horns you were used to seeing. Horns are a representative of power down here, you remembered Diavolo explaining to you your first week starting here. Starting at the side of their head, they curled up at the top of their skull before stopping abruptly, hardly sticking out through their spiky hair. Both of their slightly pointed ears were covered in piercings, black and silver spikes and cuffs penetrating through nearly every part of their cartilage. Their eyes reminded you a lot of Belphie’s at first, striking you with their purple irises, an eye color mostly devoid in the human realm, apart from a few genetic miracles. Mauve swirling into sangria, an ombre from light to dark, like lilacs soaked in wine. It nearly took your breath away.

As you drank up their image, they grinned, revealing two thin sharp fangs where their canines should be. “I’m so so excited to be meeting you, you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment!” They decided to not rush into a hug like earlier, and instead opted for a simple handshake. Their nails were long and sharp, painted over with a black base and white spider-web design. You hesitated to take their hand for a moment, the front courtyard to RAD was now empty, the two of you the only individuals left to loiter. Their eyebrows scrunched together at your pause. “This is a form of connection in the human world, no? A uh...hand swing?”

“Hand shake?” You corrected, watching them light up at your proper phrasing.

“Yes! A hand shake.” Despite the lower timbre of their voice, they could shrill rather high, reminding you of Asmo’s silky vocals. Their eyes, voice, and even cheesy Mammon-like smile reminded you enough of the brothers to put you a little at ease. Only slightly. You brushed your palm against theirs, and they shook it vigorously, a little too enthusiastic for such a simple gesture.

“So...Ikito.” You waited until they let go of your hand before continuing your train of thought. They were looking for you? They’d been waiting to meet you? You couldn’t help but feel a little bit of pride that someone was this hyped over you for once, but then again, you knew the dangers of catching a demon’s attention. “Oh, uh, first off, I always like to ask, do you have specific pronouns?” They were unbelievably androginess, and the last thing you needed was to be killed over misgendering. Plus, just because they were demons, it didn’t mean you had to have a complete disregard for manners.

They pressed their hands against their chest, almost withering to the pavement. “Oh, you are such a precious thing, just like I’ve heard.” They twirled around on the soles of their shoes. “Gender is such a human centric idea.” They pressed a finger to the tip of your nose, looking down at you with a grin. “Although I do enjoy changing up my form every century or so, I suppose in these years, for the sake of identification, you can call me sir, mister, man, monsieur!” Ikito let their volume rise with each word, ending in almost a shout, before calming down with a sigh, letting their theatrics die down. He let a low giggle escape from his mouth. “Although Ikito suits me just fine.” If you hadn’t lived with someone as flamboyant as Asmo already, you would’ve been drained of energy just by being around this demon.

“Ah, thank you, I suppose that was a silly question, thank you for answering it.” Polite words and shy eyes made Ikito grin ever wider, their fangs glistening in the light of the Devildom moon. You made your best attempt to smile, although it might’ve been obvious that the line of your lips wavered with discomfort. You weren’t sure you could be so easily trusting, and how many times had you already been thoroughly scolded by fraternizing with other demons? The best thing you could do was attempt to expose their intentions before moving further. “But, what I was originally planning to ask was, why have you been searching for me?” A simple human? Harsh winds kicked up, swaying crooked trees, pushing dead leaves across the stone floor, but you hardly noticed these details. Ikito was now on their knees, clutching the fabric of your uniform as you staggered backwards in shock.

“Please, I need you!” They begged, their voice trembling, those violet eyes shimmering with hope, like you were their last chance, the last light in their dreary life. Your face felt hot as he made a scene, and you were briefly thankful the front yard of RAD was abandoned. “If there’s anyone who can help me, you can, MC.”

No one ever asked for your help, especially not here in the Devildom, not in a way you felt mattered. Magic, spells, curses, flying, fighting, you could accomplish none of those. As a human, there was only so much you could do, and even then Solomon could handle tasks you couldn’t even dream of. In the human realm, surrounded by creatures that should’ve been at your level, you still felt...dare you say drab and inconsequential. You felt that feeling even more so around demons and angels, fantastical beings people in your world claimed only existed in fiction. So, with this unfolding before you, having someone--a demon-- before you on their knees, claiming that in all three realms, you, only you could fulfill what they desired, you were almost coerced to help Ikito before he even told you what he wanted.

“What can I possibly help you with?” You asked, the line almost coming out like a scoff.

The tears welling up in his eyes were pushed away by his hands as he got to his feet. He then hugged his own torso, grabbing his uniform so tightly, the knuckles of his fingers turned whiter. His countenance and behavior changed all in an instant. The color of his eyes glowed as his features went serious, his cheeks turned red. “I want...no...I need you to introduce me to the Student Council.”

Lunch was as busy as it always was. Clinking of utensils against plates. Endless chittering and chattering of demons busy leasuring. There were two popular hotspots to eat when the time came to it. First was the busy RAD cafe, the popular but crowded dining area. It was a large hall, filled with sturdy and luxurious marble tables. Each one was accompanied with grand chairs decorated in silver motifs and covered in black velvet. Each table seating was separated by dividers with Gothic latticework, occasional skulls and bat wings popping up in the wooden design. Crystal covered chandeliers lined the ceiling, the flames of the candles burning a haunting blue, casting the cafe in an eerie light. The walls were mostly covered in large windows, the only stone the structured pillars that separated them. Demonic plants and strange flora could be seen through the glass, mesmerizing in their otherworldly and deadly beauty. You’d never seen this level of ostentatiousness and quality in a restaurant much less a school cafe, which is why it was always packed with people. Nothing less than the best for RAD. If you didn’t get there right when the large haunting church-like bell echoed through the halls to signal lunch, hell would freeze over before you would find a seat.

So that’s why you weren’t located in the cafe, you were inside the second place RAD students obtained their sustenance. Hell’s Kitchen. The eatery might’ve not been top notch in design, but the meals were to die for--pun not intended. It was also the place you were most often dragged to by the twins, Belphie and Beel. Beel adored this place due to their ever popular Endless Torment meal deal, intending you to give into gluttony until it physically hurt. With one purchase, Beel could eat as much as he wanted, which ended up being more torment for the chefs than the patrons. Today Beel was already on his twelfth plate, getting more than his money’s worth with a satisfying grin on his face. Belphie was leaning against you, doing his best not to fall asleep to better enjoy your company. Their presence was welcoming, but you were stuck in your own head. The line was still repeating in your mind, it distracted you in your classes, it caused your mind to feel foggy, and it made you lose your appetite. I need you to introduce me to the Student Council.

“Mmm, MC, is something wrong?” Belphie yawned as he pushed his body further into yours, gently knocking you around to snap you out of your daze. He leaned forward to look at your bowed face, tugging at the sleeve of your uniform. His messy hair covered his eyes, and all you wanted was to run your fingers through it and fix it, but you resisted. His eyelashes, like his hair, occasionally featured a faded milky white mixed into the black, drawing you into his gaze. They slowly fluttered as he stared at you, boring holes into your soul.

Beel cleaned off the rest of his plate, piling it onto the rest of the others, the stack getting dangerously close to his eye level. He frowned at you, a little bit of sauce dripping out of the corner of his mouth before he licked it away. “You haven’t even touched your food yet.” He glanced at it for a second, the muscles in his body twitching in temptation as his gut instinct was to gulp your food down, but he kept himself under control. Making sure you ate properly was more important to him right now than satisfying his own sin. That was how much he cared for you.

“Yeah...I...I’m okay, just thinking.” It wasn’t a complete lie, the events of this morning repeated in your head like a broken record. Ikito had pleaded to meet with the brothers, the members of the student council. He had informed you that, without you in the picture, they would never bother giving him the time of day, which was probable. The brothers did seem to keep mostly to themselves, other than perhaps Asmo, who even then kept his standards high. You supposed you never really noticed how much time they spent with each other, how the only real people the brothers talked to was between themselves, you, and then now and again, the other exchange students. The thing was, you had never given Ikito a proper answer. Sure, there was very little that could go so far as to harm the members of the student council, but you couldn’t find the courage to say yes outright. Were you...being possessive? Clingy? Jealous? Why did you hate the idea of bringing someone like Ikito and the brothers together? He told you he would give you time to think about it, giving you his D.D.D. contact before he stepped behind you, vanishing in thin air as the breeze swirled around your body. Even at this moment in time, if it hadn’t been for Ikito’s texts, you would’ve believed you imagined the whole thing.

“Thinking about what? Did Lucifer yell at you this morning?” Belphie wondered, straightening his posture as he now looked at you in worry. His body tensed in a bit of anger at the thought of his older brother making you distressed. Shaking your head, you pushed your food around more on your plate as you debated how much to tell them.

“Hey, MC, food is to be eaten,” Beel scolded you, sounding frighteningly like Lucifer as he squinted at you. You knew from previous experiences that he wouldn’t let it go, you would be eating one way or another. Figuring it would give you more time to think, you lifted your fork and chewed on a mouthful of your lunch. Beel’s expression lightened, the worry lines on his forehead melting away as you ate. “Good.” Being scolding you like a child filled you with embarrassment, but you couldn’t help but truly enjoy Beel’s praise.

Once you swallowed, you settled on a question. “Why do you guys never really hang out with other demons?” As the meal settled in your stomach, you suddenly realized how hungry you had been. You noticed Beel beaming, and for a second you wondered if he used his influence on you to keep you eating. Either way, you needed to satiate your curiosity and your hunger, so after your query, you scooped up another serving of lunch. Both the twins blinked, a little confused at first, but then just shrugged.

“People are too tiring,” Belphie droned, resting his head on your shoulder, tucking his arm under your free one, hugging your limb against his body. You felt his steady heartbeat against your skin. Simply being around him made you want to fall asleep, tempting you to settle your head against his own and rest. “My dumb brothers are too.” His answer was not surprising, you saw that one coming if you were honest with yourself. If you thought about it, there were logical explanations for all seven brothers. Lucifer was too prideful to hang out with anyone he figured was lesser than himself, which was most of the Devildom. Mammon was always too busy making money or making people mad at him in the process, steadily burning up his contact list. Levi was...Levi. Satan would rather have the company of a book than a person, they were less infuriating. Asmo liked to hang out with people, but often was too focused on himself than others to make friends. Belphie had just explained his reasons, and for Beel.

“When I’m not eating I’m working out, and when I’m not working out, I like to be with family.” He looked you straight in the eyes, waves of appreciation and love from him rolling off onto you as he watched Belphie snuggle against you while you ate. “Like for example, my two favorite people are in front of me now, why would I need anyone else?” His words hit you in the heart like a hot arrow, the uneasiness melted away from you like butter. Demon? Please, someone needed to explain to you how it was possible. Consolation, it was one of Beel’s powers, you swore it was. Possessing the talent to alleviate all your worries with ease, and you knew he meant every word. But then he had to ask. “Why?”

The unnerving events came crawling back up your back. As much as you wanted to help people, to make Diavolo and the student council proud, you wanted to say no. “No real reason.” You showed off your best nonchalant shrug, the movement disturbing your new living attire. Belphie let out a whiny groan, tugging your arm back into a death grip as he nestled his head back against your body, his breathing tickling your skin. He was too tired to push you further, and he was making you experience the same. If only you could just forget about all this and take a nap. Your lie got away smoothly, though, as Beel’s fresh plate got delivered in front of him. Instantly distracted and immersed in his temptation, Beel dropped the subject. You sighed as you settled down your fork, feeling your D.D.D. buzz in your pocket. The text message formed a little knot in your stomach as you read off the notification. One new message from Ikito.

Hey, hey! I have an idea, how about you meet me by Majolish after classes today so we can brainstorm?

You kept the visibility of your screen under the table, biting your lip as you replied. He assumed you would say yes, you never bothered giving him an answer. Why couldn’t you just say no. Say it! Say no!

I have plans with Lucifer after, sorry.

They replied immediately, the response coming through faster than you’d ever seen anyone type.

Oh that changes things! What I would give to be in your shoes. How about we speed things up and meet in the courtyard right after the last bell rings, just so you can give me your ideas?

You were already attempting to reply, ready to blurt out another excuse, but they sent another message too quickly.

It’ll just be for a second! A simple thought! I want to hear it in person! Then you can go on your date.

You almost choked on plain air as your chest hitched, your eyes scanning over the words. The defiance flared up in your nose as you felt the stubbornness humans so often possessed seep all the way down to your fingertips. You wanted to force your face through the table. Why were you so bothered about it? It’s not like he was threatening you, making you do something extremely stupid. You had been asked so much more by the brothers on a daily basis. What they had asked for was simple. All they wanted was to talk to the Student Council, like they were celebrities or something. They mostly were...you knew that. They were held in high regard, hard to talk to. The only ones besides you and the other exchange students to get to talk to the Demon Lord himself. Actual royalty. Actual pillars of demon nobility. Self doubt seeped in through your bones. Compared to them, you were a commoner. You were nothing...You had met them and formed relationships with them simply by chance. Would they have liked you if you hadn’t been assigned to live with them? Would you have wanted to talk to them if you were in Ikito’s position? You already knew that answer. Without a doubt. You knew what being looked over was like, you knew the pain of one-sided pining. All Ikito wanted was to see them, and you could easily make all their dreams come true. Fine, you thought.

I can meet you after classes for a moment, but I can’t keep him waiting. And it’s not a date...

Great! See you then!

You knew you shouldn’t have been looking forward to whatever Lucifer had planned, you were being punished, but it was actually bringing you some comfort. Knowing Lucifer was expecting you, knowing he would be planning your arrival, keeping tabs on you. It made you feel protected. You made sure to emphasize this to Ikito. No funny business. Lucifer would be keeping an eye out for you. You couldn’t be messed with, not on RAD grounds. You would meet up, make plans with Ikito to meet the brothers, and then safely make your way to Lucifer for whatever he had planned for you. You almost laughed, you should be more worried of the demon of pride, the second most powerful demon in the Devildom. Why had you been so flustered towards Ikito? If you could tackle the members of the Student Council, you could handle a lesser demon. You had nothing to worry about. You were safe.

Inside RAD

Diavolo’s office could be described as obnoxiously large, but for him, it fit perfectly. A single desk was located at the far end of the room, right in front of an enormous raging fireplace. The mantle wasn’t too far from the ceiling, and the flames--should they hunger for it--could engulf anyone the Lord so desired. Trophies lined the walls, and not the typical shiny award kind. Skulls from creatures devoid from human knowledge. Teeth as big as swords and twice as sharp. Tomes and scrolls from ages past. It was objects like those that served as the office’s decor. The desk the room was focused on stretched wide enough to have five people work on each side and still retain elbow room. The chair behind it was basically a sculpted throne. Dusted gold with mystical jewels interlaced throughout the curving frame, it was immaculate in every way. Even in his human form, it suited him, further pounding down the fact that he was a prince no matter how you looked at it. Even though it seemed too big to be natural, his broad shoulders and perfect posture were a fitting size.

“It’s happened again. Closer this time.” Diavolo, the normally chipper happy-go-lucky prince, was frightening in his seriousness. His royal status radiated off of him in droves, the flames from the fireplace behind him further exaggerated his aura. His eyes glowed brighter than the embers. He was not one to be messed with, yet despite this, someone in his kingdom dared to fool with him. He was motioning towards the grizzly pictures on his desk, each depicting a different angle of a scene that could only be defined in one word. Slaughter. His sudden meeting was accompanied by two people, Lucifer and Barbatos. The butler kept his composure, his expression unwavering. Lucifer, despite his best efforts, was scowling, his eyes narrow as he scanned over the images. Legs crossed, he shifted in the chair he was seated in across from Diavolo. His hands were busy sorting through files, scanning over detailed reports on the dismal massacre that was discovered late last night.

“This must come to an end,” Lucifer remarked, letting the file fall from his hands, sending the papers fluttering. This was the fifth time this had happened. All in the same manner, each one even more disturbing than the last. Their identity, concealed. Their motive, unknown. For all they knew, it was killing simply for the sake of it, the thrill of murder. Thirty two demons were now dead, torn apart, practically unidentifiable. The victims now included the people Diavolo had previously sent to resolve this issue. There was no one left Diavolo could rely on, and when he was pushed, he sent his Student Council members to sort things out. It was a last stand, of sorts. When all else failed he could depend on the brothers, the seven pillars upon which he and his kingdom stood, to set things right.

“Tomorrow I want you and your siblings to have this be your main priority. Classes for all of you will be excused until this is sorted,” Diavolo commanded. While Lucifer despised being told what to do, in this case he found it didn’t bother him. Much.

The quiet Barbatos spoke up, a gloved hand curving around his chin as he thought. “I assume, whoever they are, they are using magic to cover their tracks. Ancient relics may be involved. It’s clever. The magic is too raw and unstable for it to leave a trace. It will be difficult to follow.” The nagging thought lingering in Lucifer’s brain continued to pester him, trying to convince him that if Barbatos simply used his powers to peer through time, this would be resolved in an instant, done before dinner. It surely would save him this persistent headache that was now cropping up in his temples. But he knew it could never be that simple. If Diavolo used Barbatos for every major issue that popped up in his kingdom, what would that say about his skills, his leadership? It was wise to have a card up your sleeve but foolish to play it every turn. No...he and his family would have to fix this. But he still had an issue.

“What about MC?” Had it been months before, he would’ve been asking simply for the sake of the exchange program, but now, their safety was the only thing on his mind. Falsified images conjured up by his own imagination showed MC’s body ripped apart and discarded like the corpses depicted on the table. The thought stung at his eyes. He could not let that happen. He would not let that happen. He cared too much, he worried too much. They were too important. Not only to him, but to his family. MC was his family. Becoming so attached to such a fragile creature was ludicrous, and yet it happened anyway.

“They’ll be excused from classes as well. I’d have you encourage them to pack tonight. Starting tomorrow morning, I’ll send my best guards to pick them up. They’ll be a formal guest at my castle. Safe in every sense of the word.” Diavolo watched Lucifer’s face fall, his throat swallowing the growing lump forming in his neck. If this weren’t a weighty discussion, he would’ve smiled at it. Such a prideful demon fretting over a human, it was unprecedented, only made possible though this program, through MC’s efforts. Rarely had he ever needed to cheer Lucifer up, typically it was the other way around. “It’s rushed, I know, but with the proximity and speed of these attacks, whoever is behind this is on the move. They will strike again, Lucifer, and soon, so it’s best to do all this as quickly as possible. We have to be one step ahead of them. I want MC to remain unharmed as much as you do.”

“I know…” Lucifer took in a deep inhale, his breath shuddering. “I know.” He had planned a special punishment tonight for MC. Mopping the RAD hallways. All of them. But now, he let it go. Those impudent words this morning meant nothing to him anymore. Holding onto them would be childish. As soon as the bell rang, he’d find MC and take them home. He’d not let himself feel comfortable till they were sheltered under his protection. He was holding himself back even now by not scouring the halls and having them at his side immediately. “I’ll inform my brothers tonight. We will not let this be tolerated any longer. This perpetrator will be found. We will keep the people safe.” He was speaking in terms of the kingdom, but MC’s image was the first thing on his mind. We will keep MC safe.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #trigger warning #tw: self deprecation #tw: murder #tw: violence #Tainted Reflections

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todoiidoriya · 4 years ago

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*slaps the roof of this drawing* This bad boy can hold so many personal headcanons in it!

Here’s university-aged Jon, on his way to a pride event, picture courtesy of Georgie :) @jonsimsbipride

(There is lore under the ID because I’m autistic and can’t help myself, but I’ll add a read more because I have So Much to say.)

[ID: A full-body drawing of a younger Jon Sims from The Magnus Archives. Jon is short and chubby, with dark brown skin and black hair that reaches to right above his chin. He has brown eyes, and wears square glasses and blue stud earrings. He is wearing a pink t-shirt, dark blue cuffed jeans, and gray Velcro tennis shoes. He is wearing a necklace with a bi flag on a heart at the end, a bead bracelet with the asexual flag colors on his left wrist, and a black ring on the middle finger of his right hand, which is holding a cane. He is smiling toward the viewer and making a peace sign with his left hand. End ID.]

First of all: Chubby Jon !! Do not fight me on this!! I’m all for canon-era Jon being scrawny (he’s under a lot of stress and I can’t imagine that leads to very good self-care) but 18/19yo Jon, who has been living on Grandma Food his entire life?? He’s chubby!! I will die on this hill!!

He and Georgie went to get their ears pierced together! He’s still pretty new to it, I imagine the earrings in the drawing are still his piercing studs. I think he tries to get a second one/cartilage piercing at a party or something in his third year, but it gets infected and he ends up having to give it up. Georgie teases him about it when she’s done being concerned.

This is the longest he’s ever had his hair so far! His grandma is the only person that he’s ever had cut his hair, and he’s too anxious to have anyone else do it, so he just leaves it alone. He ends up growing it a lot longer, though. (He cuts it when he and Georgie eventually break up, and it feels like a fresh start.)

The pink shirt is one of his first experiments with his gender. He’s really nervous about dressing “less masculine” so it’s basically the most subtle thing he could think of. He gets more comfortable as time goes on, and he spends most of his twenties in skirts/dresses, but he’s not quite there yet. (Also!! GTCU has just made me associate Jon with pink now lol)

He doesn’t usually cuff his jeans- it just gives him Bad Autism Feelings- but Georgie made a joke about cuffed-jeans bisexuals and he decided to try it this once. He will un-cuff them before they even get to the event.

He bought all of his pride gear at Spencer’s (or the equivalent) when he was like sixteen. He never really wore it at the time, because high school was rough and, while his grandmother had no way of recognizing pride flags, he didn’t want to risk it. He brought all of it with him to uni, though. This is the first time he’s had the opportunity to wear it.

He has to use the cane because of a childhood injury! He was a very adventurous kid, and very understimulated about 99% of the time, so one day he just started climbing on things. It was fun for a long time, but when his grandma finally caught him, she surprised him and he lost his grip. He hurt his hip and leg really badly when he fell. He can walk without it, but it’s uncomfortable and he can’t do it for long periods of time. When he’s young, I imagine him mostly using it when he’s out, and not as often when he’s at home. As he gets older/gets injured via various monsters, he shifts to using it all the time. The accident made a sort of rift between him and his grandmother, though. They both feel really guilty about it, and it could probably be fixed by actually talking about it, but neither of them are too good at that.

The Velcro shoes !!! I got so excited when I thought of this!! Jon is autistic, and when he was a kid, he had a really hard time learning how to tie his shoes. Like, for whatever reason, it just would not click for him. And when his grandma tied them for him, they would always be too tight, or too loose, and it was just Bad Autism Feelings all around. It got to the point where they were both just absolutely fed up with it- he was crying/having meltdowns every morning before school because of it, and she was so frustrated with all of it, so she just gave in and bought him Velcro, and he’s worn them ever since.

#tma #my art #I'm sure I will think of more headcanons but I have school in six hours so those will have to wait while I get some damn sleep #might post another drawing for the gender prompt if I have the spoons #(also for the sake of clarity I am autistic and trans/nb so like. no one come for me about the headcanons sujhbsdvfbsdhgdcb)

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satanickpanick · 4 years ago

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my hand slipped....... [holds him close]

fucking massive ID + close-ups under the cut

image description: a photo of a bullet journal with off-white paper opened flat. both exposed pages are covered by seven different portraits of jonathan sims from the magnus archives. he is a tall, lanky brown-skinned man with chest-length, curly silver-black hair. he has several round, dark scars on his skin, a long, thin nose and bushy eyebrows. he wears a pair of cartilage cuff earrings (unsure of technical term) on his left ear. several stylized green eyes, simplistic spiders, and a quill pen and ink bottle dot the page as accents, as well as the words “no thoughts head jon <3” in cursive in the top right corner. first close-up:

positioned in the bottom left corner of the second page, this black-and-white drawing shows jon in a pile of several mismatched blankets. only the top half of his face is visible. his hair is in a bun, and he says, “‘m not leavin’ til the worms are gone.” a steaming cup of coffee and a tape recorder poke out of the blankets on either side of him. second close-up:

positioned at the lower right of the second page, jon is pictured from the chest up in a purple ac/dc t-shirt. his hair is in a loose ponytail that falls over his left shoulder. several stylized eyes appear on his skin- his forehead, his cheek, his neck and his upper arm. he also has a halo of green starbursts and more of the eyes, colored green. next to him is an analog clock reading three a.m. his mouth is opened wide in a yawn as he says, “okay. be honest. who set off the fire alarm”. somone off-screen says, “AUGH! jon, what the hell”. jon replies, “i was sleeping, tim.” and after a pause, “is that a toaster?” third close-up:

at the middle left of the second page, jon is shown in a rusty red turtleneck and a pair of rectangular pince-nez. his hair appears to have once been in a neat bun, but it is loose. to his left, a crudely drawn cat’s face holds a length of ribbon in its mouth, which is labeled “”jon’s” hair tie” with an arrow. with a bemused expression, jon says, “admiral, that is mine.” fourth close-up:

in the top left of the second page, a square, open book is pictured. the right page says, “fuck jeurgen lietner. all da homies hate jeurgen leitner”. on the other side, jon is pictured in a turtleneck, pince-nez and a neat bun. someone off-screen says, “good god! jon???” with a tired expression, jon says, “yep.” fifth close-up:

covering the bottom of the first page and stretching slightly to the second, jon sits at a long table, wearing a baggy blue sweater with a bee on it (which is labeled “martin’s sweater” with an arrow), pince-nez and a loose, off-center bun. eyes half-closed, he says, “statement of... of... zzz....” in front of him is a tape recorder, labeled “still recording” with an arrow. to either side of him are stacks of brown cardboard boxes, labeled “unfiled statements” with an arrow. some have white paper labels on them, such as “69-420”, “this side up” with an arrow, upside down, “magnus ❤️” in cursive, and “disproved” which is slightly cut off. atop the taller stack of boxes, to jon’s left, are some short, squiggly lines, labeled “worms :)” with an arrow. next to this stack hangs a round lamp. to the left of the boxes is a jar of thin black pens. sixth close-up:

on the middle left of the first page, jon is pictured wearing a dark pink sweater, baggy light blue cardigan, black boots, and striped green pants, as well as a dark green scarf that covers the lower half of his face. his hair is in a neat bun. three of the green eyes give him a halo. he says, “venti black coffee, there’s a dear.” seventh close-up:

at the top right of the first page, jon is pictured i a turtleneck and pince-nez. his hair is half in a bun and half down. a stylized eye sits in the center of his forehead. someone off-screen says “[batshit paranormal encounter]”. looking unamused, he says, “run that by me again chief”

end image description]

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serotonin-supply · 3 years ago

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So this fanart sketch is inspired by @ayosupremacy 's headcanon about sam wearing dangly earrings- I haven't been able to get it out of my head since! Got carried away and accidentally wrote out a mini ficlet about his journey with piercings, idk I'm deranged!😅 But please enjoy! It's my first time writing stuff like this so any advice/ comments will be greatly appreciated!💕💕

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

The jewels that hold my stories

He had his ears pierced somehow at a party during his senior year of high school. It was chaotic, involving a sewing needle and lots of vodka. His parents didn't mind one bit, albeit they were just as confused as he was. "Crazy school kids." Paul Wilson would chuckle as he heated up a bowl of gumbo to nurse Sam's tender hangover. Sarah took liberties making fun of how lopsided the piercings were. His mother simply laughed as she danced around her husband in their kitchen to the tunes of Creedance Clearwater Revival. Later that evening she handed him a simple pair of gold studs. "I believe these belong to you Sammy." He went to bed that night with stars on his ears.

He was often gifted earrings of many shapes and sizes at school too. The trinkets were almost always accompanied by small pieces of paper containing a phone number-being the school sweetheart brought with it many admirers. He tried as many as he could but his favourites were a pair of daisy studs Sarah bought for him once for prom. He won prom king that night and came home with a plastic crown lopsided on his head and a dazzling smile plastered on his face. He was assured that the daisies were a lucky charm but his family and his community knew Sunny Sammy never needed lucky charms- he was one.

Then the family business took a nosedive following the death of his father. The Wilson siblings grew up too quickly after that. Everyone could tell, Sam didn't wear his studs anymore and Sarah put away her colourful beads she would ask her mother to braid her hair with.

Sam threw himself into pararescue, partly to relieve their piling debt and partly to roam the clouds, hoping to spot his old man there somehow. He wasn't expecting much but he could never in a million years expect the crash landing that was Riley.

They were opposites that worked in harmony. Where Sam was energetic and dynamic, Riley was meek and soft spoken. Though they both roamed the skies, Riley was a grounding force in Sam's life, keeping him from flying too far.

Riley was also observant. He spotted the piercings that remained uninhabited and smuggled small silver studs to keep them from closing up. It was a small gesture, nothing too grand but it had meant the world to Sam- one of the many reasons why he fell for the star freckled man.

Then heaven took his love away from him.

He searches the skies for two souls now.

Eventually time wore parts of the grief away. Thrust in the dangerous world of the Avengers and being on the run reawakened the adrenaline chasing teen Sam shut away years ago. Hero escapades, espionage and tracking down a certain winter soldier thawed his frozen inner child. He began to fall in love with living again.

Experiencing cultures around the world, seeing how they carried stories on their skin made him want to indulge his own for the first time. After adhering to the strict codes of uniformity for so long, reclaiming his self expression felt like a breath of fresh air. He could start with new piercings- it wasn't much but it was a start.

He shocked Nat one evening by asking her to go with him to get his cartilages pierced. That night marked Riley's death and grief settled in his bones much quicker than the evening chill. Normally he would cover it up with jokes and jabs but this vulnerability was new, Nat had never heard Sam stumble over his words.

By means of Widow's wiles and Wilson's charm, they managed to convince a rugged local to keep his shop open a little past closing time. He remembers Nat haggling the owner in broken Lettish- apparently they were being ripped off for double the price. Nonetheless, they walked out of that antique shop, arm in arm, laughing with matching golden cuffs twinkling in the cold Latvian night.

That night was the closest he felt to flying without his wings.

5 years later, Sam finds himself back on Earth after The Blip. He had little recollection of what transpired but the final battle with Thanos' army and the weight of a new legacy gave him different things to worry about.

All he wanted was to see Sarah again, to see little AJ and Cass. Without hesitation, he headed back to Delacroix, overjoyed at seeing the two kids again, although much bigger than when he first held them.

"They saw a picture of Uncle Sam wearing their grandmothers pearl studs and begged me to buy these in case you came back- you gotta admit, even captain america will have a hard time going up against these two." Sarah jokingly teases as she hands him a small pouch.

They were the most beautiful things he had ever seen. He wore those earrings for special occasions, the gold half crescent moon made his skin glow, the little cuts of sapphire danced in the sunlight and the pearls at the end simply looked amazing on him.

They bought it during The Blip Sam realises one evening with a feeling that hit him in the gut. Despite 5 years of hardship his family went through, they still kept a lamp shining in the night for him. They believed that no matter what, Sunshine Sam, their lucky charm would return home.

He cherished each bit of jewellery he came across, storing it away in neat compartments of his little earring box.

They were bits of metal and coloured stone, but to him, each one carried stories and memories he could silently wear on his skin.

#This started as a headcanon and now my heart hurts lmao #tfatws #fanart #sam wilson #sam wilson my beloved #captain america #fanfic drabble #marvel #Sorry for any grammar errors I dont make sense half the time😅#sam x riley #My Samriley feels #natasha romanov #bucky barnes #i'm gonna reattempt the drawing with colour later #wip i guess

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almost-jack · 4 years ago

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Sex, Drugs,&Space Chaos Ch. 2 (A Smutty Handsome Jack Adventure)

FInd more chapters on my AO3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/27921886/chapters/68380147

P.S. I friggen love comments, indulge me y’all

Chapter 2: A Push, a Pull, and a Twist

Rei arrived at Jack’s office promptly at 5. The room was enormous, with Jack’s desk at the far end on a raised platform in front of three massive windows overlooking a vast expanse of black space speckled with shimmering stars. Rei couldn’t help but smile to herself upon seeing the room; of course Jack would rule Hyperion from a stage.

Jack was lounging, feet up on his desk and a cigarette dangling between his fingers. A pair of unfamiliar people, clearly not Hyperion employees, were seated in front of him, drinks in hand. Jack was talking animatedly to a tall, lanky young man with slicked back hair and a cybernetic arm who was hovering at his side. This looked like less of a company meeting and more of small soiree, but Rei wasn’t complaining. Jack called out to her as she approached.

“Ah, good! Tiny cartel boss, meet the vault hunters. Vault hunters, tiny cartel boss,” he said cheerfully.

Rei decided to ignore the jab about her height and flashed him a crooked smile, relieved that he seemed to be in a very good mood.

“Is that my new title? I dig it,” she mused. Jack winked at her appreciatively.

“Have a seat. Rhys, pour our friend here a drink. What are you drinking, sweetheart?”

“Uhh whiskey neat, I guess,” she said, lowering herself into a chair. The tall man nodded and descended the steps of the platform to rummage around in Jack’s mini bar.

“This is your ace-in-the-hole, Jack? Really? She’s gonna get killed real quick down on Pandora,” growled a huge, muscular, bearded man with excessive cybernetics seated next to her. A tall, regal looking black woman dressed in a white fur lined coat leaned against his chair, eyeing Rei with equal skepticism.

“That’s why, Wilhelm, my dear, she’s not going down there to clean up that bandit filth. You are. You’re the brawn, she’s the brains. You clear the way and Rei will do the rest,” said Jack.

“You know, uh, I grew up on Pandora. I’ve held my own in more than a few fights,” Rei said with a hint of indignation in her voice. Her hand subconsciously drifted under her lab coat to the holster on her hip. She had decided not to take any chances and come armed with a pistol.

Jack’s eyebrows shot up.

“Hmm, is that so? There was nothing in your file about Pandora…”

“I’m sure you realize there’s a lot about me that’s not in Hyperion’s database. Besides, it’s not exactly something I advertise around Helios. People seem to have a lot of… misconceptions about Pandora. Thanks,” she said, taking the drink that Rhys handed her. “So what exactly is it that you want me to do for you?”

Jack grinned and took a drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out in a crystal ashtray.

“So-ho-ho much, cupcake,” he said with a chuckle. “Let’s start with mining the hell out of that shithole planet Pandora. We’re going to gut it and pull out all the Eridium until it collapses in on it’s stupid little self, and you’re going to oversee it. Then you’re going to take all that sweet, sweet Eridium and figure out a way to charge me a vault key. And all those little bandits your lab buddies drugged and tortured until they became psychos? I want some of those, too. But obedient. I swear I’ll shoot them right between the friggin’ eyes if any of those little monsters so much as looks at me wrong. But that comes later.”

“And what about the moral implications of, you know, torture and destroying a planet and all that…?” asked Rei, peering at him over rim of her glass.

Jack looked at her blankly for a moment, then broke into peels of laughter.

“Really? Really? The ex-Pandoran drug lord is questioning my moral integrity? Or are you getting cold feet, here?” he said, cackling.

Rei wasn’t questioning Jack’s moral compass so much as trying to discern if he actually had one. She concluded that…well she still had no idea, not that it mattered much. Over the years Rei had learnt and re-learnt the same lesson; survival first, power second, morality…whenever it was convenient. It was how the Borderlands worked.

“So I’ll take that as permission to do whatever I need to do.”

“You’ve got a free pass, run wild! And kitten, I really can’t wait to what happens when I set you loose. All you have to do is sign-” he motioned towards Rhys, who pulled a piece of paper from a folder under his arm. “Here,” said Jack, pointing to a blank line at the bottom of the page.

She liked the sound of that…complete freedom to do whatever questionable project her heart desired was all she had ever wanted. She took a sip of her drink feeling more at ease with Jack, optimistic that this situation might actually turn out well for her. Rei picked up the contract and began to skim it.

“Don’t bother reading it, cupcake. You either sign, or I give you a ten second head start before I start shooting,” said Jack, reaching for his own drink.

“Jack, darling, are you quite sure she’s trustworthy? Wilhelm and I have already proved our merit. Don’t you feel compelled to test our new comrade?” asked the expensive looking woman.

“Aurelia, your concern is adorable, really, it is,” Jack said, flashing her a charming, well-practiced smile. “But you don’t need to concern yourself with anything other than getting paid.”

“I don’t know about that,” she said, frowning.

“Speak for yourself,” grunted Wilhelm.

“So,” said Jack, pushing a pen towards Rei, “what’s it gonna be, darlin’? Are we going to be buddies, or do I need to blow your brains out?”

Rei couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Oh wow, thanks for the ultimatum. I’ll need a minute to think about that one,” she said sarcastically, picking up the pen.

“Ooh, mouthy. Very, cute, kitten,” he said, sneering down at Rei as she signed the contract. “Ok kiddos, now that you’re all acquainted, you’ve got work to do. Off you go,” said Jack, waving a hand towards the door.

Aurelia reached out and straightened Jack’s collar before giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Do be careful, dear. I would hate for anything else to happen to that handsome face,” she cooed. She turned and followed Wilhelm out. Rei put her glass down and turned to leave as well.

“Ah-ah-ah. Not you, Rei. We’ve got a couple more things to discuss,” Jack said, eyeing her with a wolfish, almost hungry expression.

“Yes sir,” she said, taking a seat in Wilhelm’s recently vacated chair. She noticed that Rhys remained quietly behind Jack, watching her with a hint of concern.

“Rhysie, go get me a sandwich,” Jack said, without turning to look at him.

Rhys paused a moment, looking at Jack wonderingly, then shrugged and left.

As soon as the metal doors slid shut behind Rhys, Jack stood and rounded the desk. He perched on the edge directly in front of Rei, legs spread wide and arms folded over his puffed out chest, obviously trying to intimidate her.

“Aurelia’s got a point, kitten. How do I know you’re trustworthy?”

“Well I did just sign a binding contract under threat of death, so there’s that.”

“Is it really enough, though? Don’t think I didn’t notice that you showed up armed, today.”

“But sir, you’re always armed. Can you really blame me?”

Jack leaned in, his face less than a foot from her own.

“So what, you were going to shoot me if I scared ya? Nah. You wouldn’t dare,” he said, reaching out to cup her chin. He tilted her head up, exposing her neck to him. Rei didn’t resist, partially out of fear…but more so because something hot and dangerous was brewing deep in her stomach.

“No, sir. I wouldn’t shoot you. I don’t think that would be in my best interest,” she said softly.

“Good,” he said with a chuckle. Jack grabbed her by the lapels of her lab coat and pulled her out of her chair, forcing her to stand between his legs. He lowered his head to her neck and brushed his lips against her jaw, making her shiver slightly. Rei could have sworn he was inhaling her scent like some sort of animal.

“I like you, Rei. I don’t want to have to get rid of you. Don’t make me do that, ok?” he murmured in her ear.

“You like what I can do for you. You barely know me,” corrected Rei, putting a hand on his chest and trying to push gently away from his grasp, but Jack didn’t yield.

“Do you always get so hands-on with your employees, or am I just lucky?” she quipped sharply, pushing against his chest in earnest. Jack let go and sat back, leaning on his hands.

“Sorry pumpkin, did I misread the situation? I thought we had a fun little thing going. I’m attractive…you’re attractive…You seem kinda into me. Your little neck would fit so perfectly in my hand,” Jack extended a large hand towards her neck, but paused, letting it fall back onto the desk. He began to drum his fingers impatiently against the dark, polished wood, clearly displeased with being forced to practice some self control.

“But we can keep this strictly professional if you want,” he said, a hint of irritation in his voice.

“Hmm. Not sure, boss. First you don’t trust me, then you want to fuck me…I think you need to make up your mind,” Rei said, dropping her hand from Jack’s chest to his thigh. She slid her hand slowly up his leg, inching closer to the subtle bulge growing under his zipper.

“Since when are those two things mutually exclusive?” Jack purred, tucking her long, chestnut hair behind her ear to reveal a thick, silver cuff in her cartilage. He grinned and tugged gently on the loop of metal, leaning in so his face was inches from hers.

There was a sudden thunder of gunshots outside Jack’s door, followed by screams. Jack jerked back, looking around wildly, then reached for the intercom next to his computer, slamming his fist down on the call button.

“RHYS! What the goddamn hell was that?!” he growled.

“Jack, you better get out here…we’ve got a situation,” Rhys’ panicked voice crackled over the intercom.

“Wait here, kitten,” he said, standing and attempting to adjust himself to hide his growing erection. Rei took a step back to let him pass, snickering to herself.

“I promise this is going to be far less funny to you later,” Jack said menacingly, towering over her, nearly a foot taller.

“Sure. Go get ‘em tiger.”

Jack glared at her for a moment, then turned on his heel, sprinting across the enormous room and through the great metal doors. Rei waited a moment, then quietly followed, stopping at the doorframe to peer at the commotion outside. There, in the middle of the hallway, stood a burly man in a Hyperion guard uniform, an enormous machine gun in one hand and Rhys’ neck in the other.

Rei’s stomach sank; the shooter was one of her plugs, specifically Ian Lynch, who she had instructed to watch her back since discovering Jack’s intense interest in her. But what the hell had happened? Some of her distributers were thugs, sure, but they knew better than to get violent inside Hyperion headquarters.

Jack advanced on the man slowly, gun drawn, face twisted with rage.

“Don’t do anything stupid, asshole… That’s Hyperion property you’re screwing with.” he snarled.

“Hah! You’re not as ruthless as they say, Jackie boy, otherwise you would have just shot me already and let this twerp take a bullet to the head. You’re all talk, ain’t ya?” said the assailant.

Jack looked like he was seriously considering doing just that, gun aimed at the man’s head, but his finger was absent from the trigger.

Rei stepped out of the office, striding quickly down the hall.

“LYNCH. Drop him. Now,” she commanded, drawing her own gun from it’s holster.

“There you are, Barrett, you fucking weasel. I’ve been waiting for you,” he hissed.

“You know this guy? And Jesus fucking Christ kid, didn’t I say to wait in my office? You’re gonna get sh-“

“If it’s me you’re after, then what the fuck are you doing, Lynch?” asked Rei, cutting Jack off.

“I caught him eavesdropping, he was recording near your door” choked Rhys. Lynch gave him a hard shake.

“Shut up. Yeah, I was listening in on your little meeting. Sorry to interrupt just as you were about to let Handsome Jack bend you over his desk, bitch, but this little shit came along and blew my cover. Wasn’t gonna shoot anyone today, but he kinda gave me no choice. Little shit came at me with a stun baton.”

“So let him go and tell me what you fucking want already,” huffed Rei.

“I want the two of you,” he said, jerking his head toward Jack and Rei, “to stay the fuck away from Pandora. I don’t give a fuck what you do to your Hyperion lackeys- drug ‘em, torture ‘em, I don’t care- but you’re not getting anywhere near my people and you sure as hell aren’t taking over my planet. So I guess what I’m really saying is that I want you both dead.”

“A small time drug pusher with a hero complex. Cute,” said Rei smarmily. Jack stared at her, eyes wide with surprise.

“He’s one of yours?”

“Not my best and definitely not my brightest, but yeah. He seems to be forgetting that he agreed to sell some pretty dangerous shit to people on Helios just so I would get him off Pandora. Ease up on Rhys’ neck, or you’re gonna kill your only bargaining chip, Lynch,” Rei said, noticing Rhys squirming and struggling for breath as Lynch’s grip tightened in irritation.

“Alright, enough of this,” said Jack impatiently. He flipped on his cloaking device and vanished.

“STAY BACK! I’M FUCKING WARNING YOU, JACK!” Lynch shouted, looking around wildly. Rei took advantage of the distraction and hurled herself at Lynch, knocking both him and Rhys to the floor, just barely keeping her own footing by landing in a cat-like crouch. There was a sickening crack as an invisible force came smashing down on Lynch’s wrist, forcing him to release the gun. He howled in pain as Jack reappeared above him, kicking his gun across the hall. Jack aimed his own weapon at Lynch’s groin, a manic gleam in his eye.

“That’s better. Now let Rhysie go or I’ll shoot your fucking dick off.”

Lynch stared venomously at Jack for a moment, then loosened his grip on Rhys, allowing him to pull away and scramble to his feet.

“Good. Hand over that recording and I won’t torture you to death. I don’t really care if your little bandit friends know we’re coming for them, but I’m not ready to make that announcement just yet. I wanted it to be special,” Jack said with a mock pout.

“Why the fuck would I do that? Let’s be honest, Jack, you’re just going to kill me anyway,” spat Lynch, attempting to sit up on his elbows.

“You’re wrong,” said Rei, planting a boot on either side of his hips and crouching down so their faces were level. She placed the muzzle of her pistol gently between his eyes and leaned closer to whisper in his ear.

“I am going to kill you.” Rei pulled the trigger. The crack of gunfire resonated through the empty hall and a spray of crimson droplets spattered Rei’s face and lab coat. Lynch slumped back in a pool of his own blood and brain matter.

Jack stood motionless, mouth slightly agape, staring at Rei.

“That was…oh my god…so fuckin’ hot, I mean, I can’t even-“

“He’s wearing a wire. It’s still transmitting to somewhere…somewhere nearby,” interrupted Rhys.

He had pressed himself as flat as possible against a nearby wall, as if trying to make his lanky form disappear into the metal. He took a shaky step forward, gingerly rubbing a blossoming bruise around his neck.

“I picked it up with my Echo eye. Couldn’t figure out why that guy was lurking around Jack’s door, so I gave him a scan. Where are you going?” Rhys said, noticing Rei slowly backing away.

His Echo eye sparked to life and raked over her, his mouth falling open in surprise. The receiver for the wire was nestled in Rei’s pocket.

“Oh. Oh shit. You? Why?”

“WHAT DID YOU DO?” snarled Jack, stomping over to her so he could make the vast difference in their sizes all the more evident as he loomed over her. She looked up at him wearily, realizing the jig was up.

“I…gave it to him. I told him to tail you and try to get something… to blackmail you with… in case I didn’t like the terms of your deal,” she mumbled sheepishly.

“So why was he here now? Couldn’t you just record me yourself?” asked Jack in a low, dangerous hiss, his eyes narrowed to slits.

“I asked him to watch my back. Like I said before, it really wouldn’t be in my best interest to shoot you. But…Lynch could have easily done it and left Helios for a while, if need be.”

“You really are a fuckin’ weasel, you know that? Give me one good reason not to shoot you right now.”

“Jack, she just helped you save my life…” muttered Rhys.

“She’s also the one who almost got you killed.”

“Look, I’m not sorry for protecting myself, but I honestly didn’t mean for Lynch to do a damn thing at all unless- SHIT, OW!”

Rei cried out as he roughly grabbed both of her wrists with one large hand, hoisting her arms above her head, forcing her to drop her gun. He pulled her up until the steel toes of her boots barely brushed the floor and gently placed the barrel of his gun under her chin, tipping her head up to look at him, all the while crushing her wrists in his powerful grip.

“JACK! Knock it off! Come on, you need her, remember?” Rhys protested, loudly and firmly this time.

“Yeah, you need me,” Rei hissed.

Jack glared at her furiously as he gave her wrists a twist that made her whimper, then lowered her slowly.

“Congrats, sweetheart, that’s strike three. First you use my company to run your little drug ring, then you try to blackmail me, then you try to kill me? Looks like you just earned yourself an early ticket to Pandora. Normally I’d toss you in a holding cell and let you rot there until I need ya, but I don’t trust that you’ll be a good girl if I let you out of my sight. So you’re taking Rhysie’s place and coming with me to help take care of some business. So glad you’re not shy about murder. Hopefully you don’t have to kill anyone you know, but… I wouldn’t count on it,” he purred, his voice dripping with honey and poison as he gave her wrists another twist.

Rei shoved a knee into his groin, not hard enough to hurt him, but with enough force to serve as a warning. Much to her surprise, she felt him half hard inside his jeans. He was clearly enjoying menacing her. Rei pressed a little harder and his cock gave an interested twitch under her knee, sparking a twisted pang of lust in her stomach.

“You want a mountain of dead bandits? You got it boss. Nice rage boner, by the way,” she snickered. Jack released her and stepped back, adjusting himself once again to hide the bulge in his pants.

“Don’t push me, cupcake, I think it’s evident how much I want to break you right now. You’re on the next shuttle with me to Pandora, pack your shit and be at the departure terminal in two hours. Rhys, you keep an eye on her, I’ve got shit to do. Oh, and give me that,” he snarled, thrusting a large hand roughly into the pocket of her lab coat and rifling through it. He pulled out the receiver and a small joint, inspecting them both, then dropped the receiver and smashed it under the heel of his shoe.

“What’s this?” he said, waving the joint in Rei’s face.

“Just plain old weed. Take it, on the house. I can’t think of anyone who needs to chill the fuck out more than you, right now,” she said brazenly.

“So help me god, I am going to…” Jack mimed strangling the air in front of him.

“My point exactly.”

He made an aggravated noise in the back of his throat and stomped back down the hall, leaving Rei eyeing Rhys suspiciously while he uncomfortably shifted his weight from foot to foot.

“Sorry about him. It’s really hard to calm him down when he gets like that,” Rhys said with a weary sigh.

“Nah, I would be pissed, too, if I were him. I would have kept monitoring him if I hadn’t been caught, and maybe not entirely for safety’s sake. If I have to destroy my home planet, I want to make sure I’m getting my fair share of the reward,” she said shrewdly.

“Well he shouldn’t have put his hands on you, at least. He can really do some damage if he’s not careful.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” said Rei, examining the angry red fingerprints around her wrists. “You seem to know him pretty well. What exactly are you to Jack? Personal assistant? Babysitter?”

Rhys laughed weakly. “Technically I was a middle management coder, but Jack took a special interest in me because…well, not to brag, but I’m a pretty great hacker,” he said with a hint of smugness. “So now I’m kind of…his protégé, I guess? But lately he’s been using me as an assistant because he freaking killed so many that no one wants the job anymore. He’s such a big, murderous baby sometimes.”

“Volatile psychopath is more like it.”

“Hah, yeah. You know…and don’t quote me on this because he’s pretty hard to read… but I think Jack was really disappointed about the whole blackmail thing. He seemed to really like you, kept talking about plans for his promising new “lab nerd”, and uh… something about bending you over his desk and uh…Well he was pretty excited that you weren’t a dude. And that you’re one of us,” Rhys said with a wink.

“What do you mean?”

“You know, attractive. In the 8 and up club. Grade A, Hyperion made.”

“God, you really are his protégé,” Rei said, picking up her gun and returning it to her holster.

“Hey, those are his words, not mine. You got a little something right here,” Rhys said, pointing to his cheek. Rei dragged her already bloodstained sleeve across her face, adding more crimson to it.

“Better?”

“You kinda just smeared it around…here.” Rhys wiped her cheek with the back of his hand, pausing just a moment too long before breaking contact. Rei raised an eyebrow and he blushed slightly.

“So, uh, we better get going,” he said, avoiding her gaze.

“Yep. Clearly I need a shower. Come on, Jack junior, let’s roll,” she said, taking off down the hall, Rhys hurrying after her.

#handsome jack #borderlands #borderlands 2 #fanfic #fan fiction #ao3 #ao3 writer #rhys #smut #adventure #video games #writing #rhys strongfork #handsome jack x oc #handsome jack x rhys #rhack #hyperion #sex drugs & space chaos

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motleymoose · 4 years ago

Text

Homecoming, Part 2: Bosph, Ch 2

Chapter 2: New Friends, Found & Lost

Fandom: The Mandalorian, Star Wars Characters: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin), Gender-Neutral Reader, Mihcas (OC), Nameless dozens Words: 5.1k+ Warnings: Canon-appropriate violence, Injuries, Death & Destruction, Angst adjacent, Fluff if you squint

Summary:

I make friends where I can. But apparently, I don't get to keep them long when the bounty hunter's around.

Fraggin' buckethead.

Homecoming Masterlist

Just before the rusty pink dawn broke, we made it to the bottom of the ravine. My hands were bound once more, but this time the cuffs were loose, giving me room to wiggle out of them. The hunters’s blaster was still in its holster and the rifle slung across his back. He didn’t draw the pistol until we were out of the ditch, picking our way around craters and abandoned mech. A pile of service droids marked the gate into the compound, and my guts wrenched at the sight of them. There were many out there that didn’t see the sentient robots as living things, no matter what personality or skills they developed outside of their programming, and it hurt to think of the terror and confusion the service droids must have experienced before being destroyed.

Repressing the urge to vomit, I stood silently beside the bounty hunter as the merc at the gate scanned the ID fob and took the puck containing my arrest warrant. While the scan was processing, another guard stepped forward and ripped the goggles and respimask from my face, chucking them behind her. I scowled as menacingly as I could, but she just laughed, waving her hand dismissively at me. The scanner beeped an all-clear, and the merc triggered the gate, ushering us into the yard. The Mandalorian’s blaster barrel pressed into my side as we followed the merc through a low tunnel and into the building itself.

Once inside, we were greeted by several more mercs, each carrying weapons in plain view. Flanked on both sides and the back, the mercs guided us into a short hallway that contained a single door.

“Oh, no. After you,” I replied to the prod from the Mandalorian’s gun. I was rewarded with a slap upside the head that left my ears ringing. The merc who administered the blow grinned humorlessly at me with very sharp pointy teeth. Sighing in exasperation, I held my bound hands up. “I don’t know the code to open the door.” I wiggled my fingers emphatically and received another smack to the head. A pale orange Twi’lek shouldered her way forward, tapping a string of digits into the control panel. With a hiss, the door slid open.

The room was smaller compared to some of Mihcas’s other boltholes, but it was still elegantly furnished, and expensively. Carpets and furs decorated the floors and walls, and richly cushioned couches and chairs were spaced evenly around the center of the room facing the extravagantly massive fireplace. Servants, of varying ages, mods and species, lined up against the wall on either side of the fireplace, eyes downcast and arms politely tucked behind them. In the midst of it all stood Mihcas, dressed in a well-tailored formal tunic belted at the waist and Sullustan leather pants that ended inside tall black shock boots, his shoulder-length silver-blonde hair tied neatly at the back of his neck. He turned as we entered, a wolfish grin on his otherwise averagely-handsome pale features.

Acknowledging me with a curt nod, he greeted the Mandalorian with wide arms. “Welcome, fierce beroya! I do hope the journey was not too wearisome.” A sharp glance to one of the attendants procured a tray of cups and cold tea and Imperial delicacies.

I eyed the tray longingly before forcing myself to look away. My eyes met Mihcas’s, and his humorless grin widened, showing off his perfect teeth. The Mandalorian stepped around me, blocking my view of my ex-boss.

“Do you have the credits,” he stated in his not-a-question way, fingers tightening imperceptibly on the blaster’s grip.

“Ah. Yes,” Mihcas replied, voice hardening. “If you would be so kind as to hand my errant employee over to my guards, I will get you your payment.” He walked to a table standing in the corner of the room and unlocked it with a finger scan.

The Mandalorian turned to me, cloak blocking all but my view of his hands as they tested the cuffs and slipped the blaster into the pocket at my hip, hidden by my baggy tunic. With a helmet tilt to the guards at the door, he stepped back and watched as two of the mercs flanked me. I was lifted up by large hands clenching my upper arms and swiftly dragged from the room.

The door closed behind us as my two brutish companions, a mountainous blue-green Twi’lek male with a mean looking modified disrupter slung across his back and a rough-looking tawny Wookiee carrying a heavy reconfigurable blaster and a long knife strapped to its belt, hauled me bodily down the hall for one long droid-operated freight elevator ride and tour of the underground tunnels before depositing me into a barred holding cell. The Twi’lek bastard gave me a hard kick to the knee, sending me tumbling to the cold stone floor. I yelped in surprise and pain, feeling the cartilage pop in protest. The Wookiee barked a guttural laugh and slammed the barred door closed after the Twi’lek exited the cell. I waited until I heard their heavy footfalls disappear into the darkness, praying to the Maker that there was no one else down here with me, and sat up.

Holding my breath, I slipped out of the cuffs, tucking them into the pocket at my thigh. Mother of Moons, was I thankful for my jumpsuit. There was no other piece of clothing as versatile as this in the galaxy, nor any with as many pockets. Touching every pocket in turn, I let my fingers trace their way to my left knee. It was throbbing dully, and the heat from the rapidly swelling flesh only mildly concerned me at the moment. There was a secret pouch at the back of the knee, hidden in the baggy folds of the tough fabric, and I needed to get at it before the pain intensified. I unbuttoned the leg of the jumpsuit to just below my thigh and fished out the tiny set of tools I’d hidden.

Unrolling the palm-sized piece of leather on my aching knee, I selected a thin, pointed hook pick and a flat length of metal with a zigzag end I liked to call a squiggle, more colloquially known as a worm rake. I carefully folded the other tools back into the leather and returned it to the secret pouch, buttoning only three buttons at the bottom of the leg out of convenience and the need for speed. Rising painfully to my feet, I limped over to the metal door to inspect the lock close-up.

It was a simple deadbolt-type lock. Smirking mirthlessly, I knelt on my right knee, letting my left leg splay out sideways to avoid being bumped. Snaking my arms through the bars, I closed my eyes and let the tools become natural extensions of my hands. I could see the mechanism clear as day without actually looking at it, my body attuned to the scrapes and taps of the tools.

A gentle push here, a light rake there, and the lock clicked. I retrieved the little tool set from the knee pouch and replaced the pick and rake, returning the now-complete set to its home once more.

I allowed a small groan as I stood up. White-hot pain stabbed at the tendons at the inside of my knee when I put weight on my left leg, and I cursed the skug of a Twi’lek who'd kicked me. The Mandalorian had told me nothing of a rendezvous, let alone an escape plan, but I took the borrowed pistol as a good sign he wasn’t leaving me as sarlacc fodder. However, the knee was going to slow me up quite a bit if there happened to be an end goal I wasn't aware of.

The space between the tunnel wall and the holding cell wasn’t all that wide, and I made it in two one-legged hops, landing heavily against the wall. Using the tunnel as support, I limped awkwardly back the way I’d been carried. Landmarks were few and far between down at this depth, and it took a few attempts before I found the first freight elevator.

Relief flooded my senses as I stumbled over the gap and onto the steel platform. The tiny cylindrical service droid meeped in surprise when I entered, but quickly returned to its base programming to ask what floor I required.

“Ground level,” I replied dryly.

The droid beeped a confirmation, several small lights flashing brightly across its face. The guardrail swung down as the cage doors slid shut, and we began our ascent to the surface. The trip up was going to take a while, so I slid against the wire-paneled wall and sat companionably on the platform next to the droid.

“Do you like working down here?” I asked sincerely. Other than this one, the droids I’d seen so far were all non-functioning piles of metal.

A whir and a set of clicks confirmed my suspicions. I didn’t have the more delicate tools needed to give the elevator droid a proper diagnostics test, but I had a small dropper of oil and a few slim-handled stiff bristle brushes.

I emptied my pockets, setting each item neatly in front of the service droid. It meeped and whirred.

“It looks like your vents are stiff and your utility arm could use some grease. I’d like to clean them for you, if you’ll let me.”

A lone light blinked as the droid processed the information. A few seconds later, it clicked excitedly.

“No problem! I like doing this kinda stuff.” I smiled, adding offhandedly, “I’m a mech.”

With mindful fingers, I popped off the droid’s front access panel and loosened larger bits of caked-on gunk from its bolts and heftier gears. Taking up one of the smaller brushes, I swept away the rest of the debris and pinched the stiff bristles together to work out a little bit of rotted oil gumming up its more delicate gears. Leaning back, I took one satisfied look at my handiwork before picking up the small oil dropper.

“A little lube, and you’ll be as good as new, burc’ya,” I said, dusting off the top of its domed head.

I finished oiling the droid’s joints and other recalcitrant parts by the time we arrived at the ground floor. The elevator juttered to a stop, and the little service droid whirred happily, moving its arm in a smooth back and forth motion that showed off my mech skills. I couldn't help but smile at the droid. Knowing that my work was being appreciated was the best thanks I could ask for.

"Looks like this is where I get off," I said, pulling myself stiffly to my feet. "Don't let those kung-breathed dosh-heads get you down, friend."

The droid beeped in a succession of trills and tweets, and I patted its dome in a friendly parting. The droid pulled the door lever, and I stood back as the guardrail raised and the cage door slid open. It took a moment for the outer facade to recognize the command, but when it did, I found myself in utter chaos.

At the end of the tunnel, oily smoke curled languidly out of a Twi'lek sized hole in the sliding metal doors. One of Mihcas's elegant chairs lay broken halfway down the tunnel, and the body of the Wookiee guard was crumpled against the wall. Wide eyed but not naive, I slipped the blaster from my hip pocket and edged out of the elevator.

"Get out of here, if you can," I whispered to the little service droid. It meeped worriedly, and I reached back into the freight elevator to tap its domed top in comfort. "Don't worry about me, the goons can't hurt me; the boss reserves the right to kill me himself."

The droid trilled frantically, lights firing circles around its small head.

“Um, no. You are not coming with me. It’s too dangerous.”

Another set of trills and lights, but this time with a short honk.

“Fine. But don’t come crying to me when some fraghead takes a potshot at you and fries your servers,” I replied. Glad as I was to have company, and friendly company at that, I worried about the little droid coming to harm.

It beeped solemnly at me, disengaged from its dock, and whirred happily ahead of me.

"You, too, little friend," I murmured.

Limping as quietly as I could, I followed my new droid friend. It stopped a few feet short of the merc laying in the hall. I slowly approached the prostrate Wookiee, blaster drawn, taking a position in front of the service droid. The merc wasn't moving, which was good news for us. But by the size of the hole in its chest, it didn't look like it took that news very well. Stooping cautiously, I reached out a hand and poked it in its glassy, half-opened eye.

Yep. Definitely dead.

Tugging at its belt, I spun the leather strap around its waist until the forearm length blade came into view, still in its sheath. The knife was more like a sword in my hands, but it was better than a gun. Shoving the Mandalorian’s blaster back into its pocket, I straightened and glanced towards Mihcas's sanctum. I began to limp towards the door, the small robot rolling closely behind. We were almost to the broken door when something caught my eye.

I froze, and the droid followed suit. A shadow flickered in the haze of smoke, masking whether it was friend or foe. Fingers tightening on the grip, I shuffled forward leaning heavily to the right. If I had to fight my way out of here, I couldn't count on my knife skills alone. My knee was too badly damaged to be of any use in hand-to-hand combat, and I cursed the Twi’lek once more before steeling myself for a possible attack.

Someone grunted angrily on the other side of the smoky room. Inching towards the door, it was impossible to see more than two feet inside. Frustrated, I patted my pockets with my free hand, searching for something to cover my face.

Bingo.

Unwadding the crusty oil rag, I tucked the knife under my arm and tied the rag around my nose and mouth. It wasn’t as good as a respimask, but at least I wasn’t going to immediately fill my lungs with soot. I got a surer grip on the large knife, and leaned up against the wall beside the door. The hole was large, all jagged edges and fused metal, and I knew that no amount of finagling was going to get the control panel to open it. By this time, I was well aware of my knee; the sharp, throbbing sensation that traveled up and down my leg every time I took a step made it kinda hard to forget about the damage. I couldn’t put much weight on it, which made the idea of stepping over the bottom of the damaged door all the more unpleasant.

The acrid smoke roiled, disturbed by movement farther into the room. I wasn’t sure if this was the only exit, but seeing as I didn’t have any other ideas, I was going to have to try my luck with whoever was occupying the space.

“Think you could get me one of those rugs if I set you over the door?” I asked the droid blinking beside me.

It beeped a response, and I nodded.

With as much ease and grace that I could muster, I hefted the droid through the hole and onto the other side of the door. Its fans whirred faster as it encountered the dense smoke, and I could see its squat shape rolling further into the room. Silence fell for a brief moment, and the worry began to eat its way back into my chest.

Just as I was about to force my way over the broken door, a set of colorful blinking lights greeted me through the dimness.

Leaning into the hole, I snagged the edge of the fur my little droid pal had retrieved. I laid it over the lip of the hole, taking care to not fall over. I was frustrated and scared, and it took more than I had to bite my tongue from shouting in pain. Gingerly, I sat down on the edge of the door and tipped over backwards, landing with a healthy whuff on the other side in a pile of discarded carpets. The droid blinked silently in concern, and I patted its head before flopping over onto my belly. Pushing to my knees, I hissed out a string of curses in as many languages as I could muster. My knee was shrieking in agony, but I had to keep going if I wanted to get out of the compound alive. Flinging potential tripping hazards away from me, I used a broken chair leg to rise wobbly to my feet. The room was eerily quiet, but I could still feel the presence of someone else.

I was rewarded for my paranoia by a clatter in the center of the room. I stopped and held my breath. Another grunt sounded from the same direction

Instead of running in the direction I thought the door was, I decided to try my luck with the being at the center of the room. The droid flashed red in alarm, but I ignored its warnings. I may have been hoping that it was Mihcas making that noise, slowly dying in a puddle of his own bodily fluids. It would have made a fitting death for a skug who caused untold amounts of despair in others.

Picking my way carefully through the wreckage, I held the blade at the ready. If anyone was going to pop out of the smoke at me, they were going to be met with a very big knife. The droid stayed as quiet as it could, leaving plenty of space between us as a precaution. It wouldn't do anyone any favors if it got underfoot in a fight.

A noise nearby made me jump. Boots scuffed up ahead, followed by another groan. I couldn’t see over to the other side of the couch, the smoke being too thick and stinging my eyes to tears. Everything had taken on a blurry, hazed look, and it was a miracle I didn’t trip over the leg that came sweeping across the floor at me.

“Frag!” I yelped, arms instinctively coming to a defensive position.

I heard my name rasped through a vocoder. "You're alive."

"No thanks to you, buckethead," I replied, squinting down at the Mandalorian. "You're lucky I've got skills. What happened to you?" He was propped up in a scrunchingly uncomfortable way against the couch, an unfamiliar pistol in his hand and his rifle at his side. I tried again, waving the knife at the smoke. “This your handiwork?”

Ignoring me, his visor focused on a point just over my left shoulder. "Let's go."

With effort, I help him unsteadily to his feet, looping an arm around his torso. He leaned heavily into me, favoring his right side. From the looks of it, his arm was useless, dislocated maybe. A dark wet splotch had bloomed underneath his armor, and there was a strain on the floor to match.

Adding his weight to mine caused my knee to buckle ever so slightly in the wrong direction. The searing pain brought bile up the back of my throat. The sourness mixed with the metallic taste of the smoke already residing there, making me gag a little in response. Anxiety emerged from underneath my guts, clawing its way to my chest.

I swallowed in an attempt to keep the panic from setting in, and immediately regretted the decision. It dropped like a stone back into my stomach. Now I was queasy on top of the pain and the panic. Things weren’t looking good, and I could feel my heart begin to race at the thought of being smothered by all the smoke in Mihcas’s compound. Just as I was getting lost in the tangle of panicked thoughts and feelings, the Mandalorian muttered something.

“What?” I gasped, brought rudely out of my waking nightmares into reality.

“Amban. Need it,” he breathed.

Oh, right. The rifle.

Inhaling as deeply as I could, I ignored the nausea and the ever present pain and reached down for the discarded rifle. When I came back up, lightheaded and not a little dizzy, the bounty hunter wrapped the strap once around his good wrist and slung it over his helmet and shoulder. Blinking a few times, I exhaled explosively. Taking his weight back on, I guided him in a stumbling, winding path across the room.

"Fragging sake, you way as much as a bluurg!"

The Mandalorian grunted under his breath, gloves fingers digging into my shoulder. "Blaster," he muttered.

"Hold on. " I stopped, letting go of his arm and fishing for the gun in my pocket. "Here, " I said, showing it to him. "But how are you gonna-"

An excited trill of beeps sounded off to my right. With a heave, the hunter dropped his arm from my shoulders, taking the pistol in his good hand. Without looking at where he was aiming, the Mandalorian fired off two succinct rounds in the direction of the noise.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” I cried, lunging toward the crumpled droid. It meeped weakly, its blinking lights slowly fading one by one.

“It was helping me.” I held the droid’s small, blocky body in my arms as more of its functions began to shut down. My knee was screaming, but I didn’t care; my new friend was dying, and there was nothing I could do for it.

The Mandalorian stood sentinel behind me, blaster at his side. “We should go.”

“I can’t leave it alone!” I snarled back at him. “Why did you shoot?” My voice wavered, the fight draining out of me as fast as the droid’s little lights winked out. It didn’t take long for my little friend to beep its last.

I stood up from the remains of the droid, wiped my face on my sleeve and limped back toward the Mandalorian. “Ready when you are,” I said coolly.

He checked the charge on his blaster, powered it back up, and collapsed against the wall. “Exit. There,” he said with a tilt of his helmet. Squinting against the smoke and the tears, I couldn’t tell how far it was, but I could feel a breeze that stank of the outside.

Huffing, the Mandalorian pushed off of the wall and onto my awaiting shoulder. I may have been carrying most of his weight, but he was still in total control. He steered us the short distance to the smashed door and into the short, low tunnel.

“Not sure how we’re gonna get over that ravine,” I said conversationally.

“You worry about getting us there, I’ll worry about what comes after.”

“Got some magical flying Tauntauns up your sleeve, do you?”

“Shut up and walk.”

More than a little irked, I shuffled along under him until we got to the mouth of the tunnel. The body of the guard who’d laughed at me lay twisted against the curved wall of the tunnel, eyes open in astonishment. The merc was nowhere to be seen. Stopping a few steps from the outside, I helped the Mandalorian sit down against the curve of the tunnel wall, his breath coming out in rough, painful gasps over the vocoder. I glanced nervously at the dead guard. “What’d you do with the other one?”

“Do you... really... want to know.”

“Just making sure I’m not gonna get blasted once we step outside.”

“I took... care of... them.”

Nodding again, I look out across the compound’s yard to the gate, still closed but unmanned as far as I could tell. The Mandalorian’s breath began to slow from ragged gasps to mostly even puffs. He shifted against the wall, and I reached down to help him stand.

Synchronized, we stepped cautiously out into the muddy sunlight. The warmth felt good on my face and neck, and my shoulders relaxed fractionally. Mother of Moons, I never thought I’d see daylight again.

"I think you've seen better days, Mando."

The bounty hunter was fast. As I was turning my head around to see who had spoken, the Mandalorian had his blaster trained on the interloper.

Mihcas

Surprised as I was to see that the Mandalorian was standing in front of me… was he trying to protect me?... I was more so by the appearance of Mihcas who, I’d falsely assumed, had been killed with the rest of them.

Serves me right for not asking the correct questions.

Mihcas strode forward, the Twi’lek’s disruptor drawing a bead on the bounty hunter. His clothes were torn and singed and he was covered in blood, some of it drying darkly in his loose, silvery hair. Somehow I knew that it wasn’t his blood, and the thought of whose it could be made me sick. “I’m willing to let you carry on your merry way in exchange for my employee. We have business to discuss, and I would hate to bore you with all of the gruesome details.” The wolfish smile pulled at his lips again. He looked absolutely mad.

“I don’t negotiate,” the bounty hunter replied. A slight tremor in his right arm told me he wouldn’t be able to stand for much longer. I was going to have to do something, something incredible stupid in order to save the buckethead who got me into this mess, and I was going to have to do it fast.

“But I do!” I said brightly, stepping around the shocked Mandalorian.

On Mihcas’s lips, my name sounded like a curse. His long, thin hands tightened on the rifle, bringing it to bear on my chest. I could hear the power buzzing through it from twenty paces away.

“What are you doing?” the hunter whispered urgently.

“Shut up. I’ve got a plan to plan.” It had sounded so much smarter in my head, but I couldn’t take it back now.

Refocusing on Mihcas, I held up my hands and dropped the purloined knife. It landed, extremely pointy point down, in the semi-soft soil between my feet. “If I assume correctly, this scruffy-looking buckethead took out all of your hired goons while I was down below. Right?”

Mihcas’s head tipped imperceptibly, eyes darting to my helmeted shadow then back to me.

“‘Kay. Even knowing that, you’re willing to bet your life that he’s not gonna turn right around and kick your doshing ass once you’ve shot me? That doesn’t seem remotely smart or calculating, Mr. Bossman.”

Face reddening, Mihcas hissed, “I’ll take my chances.”

“Really? ‘Cuz from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re half a dozen charges away from an empty rifle. No, don’t check,” I bluffed reasonably. “Take your eyes off me, and who knows where this crazy Mando’s gonna go.”

I could practically see the steam rolling off of my boss, his temper getting the better of him the longer I pointed out the obvious. With any luck, I’d get his focus entirely hazed by anger, and hopefully that would be enough for one of us to take him out.

The Mandalorian huffed behind me, and I shook my head. If only he could be patient for a moment longer.

“So, with all this stuff not in your favor, I can see only one real option for you.” I paused for effect, holding my breath as I watched Mihcas shift uncomfortably. Then I waited a little bit longer.

“Well?” Mihcas snapped. The gun’s barrel dipped a fraction lower, and I inwardly congratulated myself on pissing him off enough to lose focus. If he was interested in what I was saying, there was an even better chance of making it off this rock alive.

“You die.”

Shoving me roughly to the dirt, the Mandalorian rushed forward, guns blazing. With his right side useless and probably in considerable pain, the shots were a little off-centered, hitting the other man in the hip and shoulder. Mihcas went down with an angry scream, returning erratic fire from where he lay. A burning sensation bit at my side as I rose from the dust, and I doubled over. Must’ve landed wrong when the hunter pushed me. The Mandalorian yelled something in my direction, but I didn’t catch what it was as I straightened up. The adrenaline surged once more through my veins, and I ducked, pulling what I now considered my knife from the ground. From the corner of my eye, I could see the bounty hunter flat on his belly behind the pile of dead droids, returning fire with Mihcas. For the heck of it, I picked up a decent sized rock as well.

Stumbling forward, I switched the large blade to my dominant hand, the silvery sharp edge slicing into my palm. From my vantage point, both the Mandalorian and Mihcas were highly visible to me, but not each other. I tested the weight of the rock in the other, finding the best grip I could at such short notice. I only had one shot, and I needed to make it count, otherwise...

Well, I didn't want to think about that.

With an underhanded swing, I lobbed the rock inexpertly at Mihcas's head. It shattered against the gatepost, showering him with mean, gritty pebbles and dirt.

A string of swears erupted from Mihcas as he dropped the barrel of his gun and wiped frantically at his face one-handedly. Those bits of debris had to sting; the air on this planet wasn't the cleanest, and it undoubtedly had leeched into the soil.

Steeling myself, I straightened to my full height, filling my lungs with the dry, tangy air.

“HEY MIHCAS,” I screamed, the words tearing my throat raw. “CATCH!” I flicked my wrist, sending the large dagger singing through the air. Mihcas’s eyes went wide when the knife appeared, sticking out of his chest. He immediately slumped over, cradling the hilt in his death throes.

Taking one last look at Mihcas’s body, I limped hurriedly toward the dead drones.

The Mandalorian’s helm gleamed violently in the sunlight, and I shielded my eyes, coming to a stuttering stop in front of his cover.

“Got ‘im,” I said with a smile.

I may not have been able to tell what his face looked like under that visor of his, but I could feel an air of disapproving astonishment coming from him. I relished in it.

“I… have… so many questions,” he replied, frustratedly flabbergasted.

“So do I, but I’m sure we can get that sorted once we get back to the Crest. That is, unless…” I stopped, scrutinizing the tilt of his helmet and the grip on the blaster. “Unless you’re leaving me here?”

A violent huff sizzled over his vocoder. “There’s speedbikes in an alcove inside that tunnel,” he said tersely, pointing back the way we came. “They should get us back to the ship before midday.”

“Thank you, Mother of Moons,” I mumbled, rolling my eyes. I was going to voluntarily stay at the compound if it meant not walking all the way back to the ship at his speedy pace.

_______________________

Notes:

beroya - bounty hunter burc’ya - friend

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thornbolts · 5 years ago

Text

Market Report: Untamed Night

(A big thank you to the folks over at @howlingowl-wra for hosting such a great event and letting us come sell stuff! Love all of you. Keep doing what you’re doing <3 )

Remington smirked to her steel-jawed self as she tightened the bow tie at her neck. Remington fit her gangly arms through her black silk vest and buttoned it up. One had to be fancy for an Owl event, after all. Just as she was about to open the door to her wagon, she halted. The caravan master turned on her heels, swiping the gold-chained pocket watch from her desk. She stuffed it into her vest’s pocket, letting the chain hang out.

Assumed currency conversion (Headcanon):

1c = 1 cent 1s = $1 1g = $100

Remington’s Sales:

x4 Pendants of Longing [Set of two] (1g): The enchantment on these pendants was originally intended to help locate missing persons. But with this Love is in the Air, these necklaces have been repurposed for couples. One half of an enchanted ruby heart hangs on each of these necklaces. When the users are far, the hearts dim. When the users draw closer, the hearts shimmer with a deep red light.

x5 Ring of Infertility (25s): This silver ring does exactly what one expects; the ring renders a user infertile so long as they wear the ring. The ring may be removed at any time, and the user will return to being fertile without any ill or lingering effects. We both know what its intended purpose is.

x1 Ear Cuff of Apparent Signals (2g): Stop missing all those signals! This gold piece of jewelry wraps around the cartilage of one’s ear. The cuff automatically resizes relative to its owner’s ear. When worn, the ear cuff warms whenever the wearer is being observed or flirted with by someone with romantic intent. The degree of the warmth increases proportionally the degree of romantic interest, but the ear cuff will never heat to uncomfortable temperatures.

x3 Dream Linking Rings [Set of two] (1g): The enchantment on this pair of shimmering silver rings was originally created by a homesick Silvermoon magistrix who missed her sister dearly. When worn, these rings link the minds of two people, allowing them to visit one another when they both dream. The length of the visit is dependent on how long each person sleeps, up to a maximum of ten hours. Regardless of the environment created by the pair's dreams, an empty doorway will always be present. Either person may willingly exit and return to a dreamless sleep by walking through the doorway.

x1 Seduce Me! Saxophone (5g): Fusing together magical and musical technique, this saxophone glimmers with a pink sheen as light reflects off of it. A dial is fit around the instrument’s crook. When rotated, a user may cycle through various romantic musical scores, such as the titular “Seduce Me.” When the dial is pressed, the saxophone will begin to play itself. The saxophone will begin to play slower songs as the night goes on.

Total Coin Earned: 16.25g

Loira’s ( @ms-winford ) Sales:

x7 Star Walk Brew (1s 5c each): After drinking this serene potion, your spirit leaves your body and soars upward, allowing you to freely stargaze for one hour. You are conscious and in control of your spirit as this happens. You may otherwise return your spirit to your body whenever you wish to.

x2 Shadow’s Embrace: (9c each): This wispy black potion is dotted with flecks of silver, resembling the night’s dark sky. Best taken before bed, this potion tricks the brain into thinking someone is there, holding them close. If organic cuddles are not available, potion provided is fine. Each vial contains one dose.

x1 The Heart Goes On (5s/set): Near, far… these miniature anatomically correct hearts are sold in round potion bottles, suspended in clear liquid. They are startlingly accurate in depiction. Did it just beat? Best not to ask. Each set contains two hearts packaged in a small black jewelry box. Small enough to be worn as a pendant or charm. Glows when the bearer of its partner is in danger.

x1 Frozen Flowers (3s each): Premade corsages and boutonnieres, simple and elegant, the flowers glisten in their frozen beauty. The magic will last until the festival’s end. Specialty blossoms grown in Loira’s gardens. (Jasmine and Pink Carnation: A promise to remember, modesty, sensuality, elegance, grace.)

Total Coin Earned: 15.53s

#market reports #untamed night #howling owl #succulent tart #fence macabre #ooc

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tabithacarlisle · 5 years ago

Photo

*OFF THE RECORD : Part 9

.......

by jo ( @tabithacarlisle ;)

*Catch up on OFF THE RECORD’s previous chapters Parts 1-8 at the OTR MASTERLIST

Word count: 5757

OTR Part 9 Notes & Disclaimers: Pixelberry Studios owns these characters, not me! I just have fun playing with them :)

Pairings: Liam x MC (Tabitha) (mentions: Maxwell x MC | Liam x Drake | discussions of Liam x Drake x MC x Maxwell)

*Author’s Note: any time you see text underlined, it’s a link to screenshots from Pixelberry’s Choices TRR scenes, or other chapters referenced from *OTR- click them!! :)

Warnings: 18+ NS*W, !, erotica, polyamory, marital angst, discussions of group sex, brief mention of recreational drug use, sex-play bondage If you click ‘Keep Reading’ you are acknowledging that you are 18+

…..

OTR Part 9

:::Security sweep, check.::::

::::North end, all clear, check.:::

::::Perimeter, secure. Check::::

...

The King & Queen of Cordonia sat waiting in their motorcade vehicle that had picked them up only a half an hour or so earlier from the jet tarmac on Sardinia. Tabitha rolled her window down to get a better look of the private costal beach view that they’d be enjoying for the next few days on their scheduled mini-break. The sun was setting, creating the most gorgeous purple and orange sky, and the only sounds they could hear apart from the shorebirds, and the waves crashing against the rocks were the faint sounds from inside the villa of Bastien & Mara’s security team communicating on their radios.

Tabitha sighed, enchanted at the sight. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Isn’t it?”

She looked back at Liam, who was looking straight at her, rather than at the sunset at the horizon. Groaning she rolled her eyes at him and slapped his shoulder, then laughed, “will you ever stop doing that?”

“What? Stop thinking you’re the most beautiful sight I’ve ever laid eyes upon? Doubtful.” He winked and laced his fingers through hers, bringing her hand up to his lips to kiss the back of it. She blushed, turning to rub his shoulder as she returned her gaze back out the window, both touched and embarrassed by his flattery.

Bastien opened the door the villa and Mara followed with the rest of the team, signaling for the Royal couple to make their way out of the vehicle.

“All clear. Enjoy yourselves tonight, your Majesties.” Bastien winked at Liam and the security team bowed towards the newlyweds before leaving to man their posts outside the building.

Liam moved to lock the door behind Bastien and Mara as they left. He spun Tabitha around an pinned her wrists together above her head against the door, almost too eagerly.

“Liam?!”

He groaned “I’ve been aching for you, my love. I can’t wait any longer.”

Liam pressed into her, his body urging her legs apart. She could feel his erection insistent against her, separated only by their thin layers of clothing.

“Liam...”

He dipped down his head to suck at the side of her neck, his free hand roving over her every curve. Liam pulled down her neckline to free her left breast, tweaking the nipple until it peaked before he took it in his mouth. Her breath caught in her throat and she bit her lip to suppress the pain.

*gRrrrrrrrrdddddNnnnn...*

“What was that?” Startled at the sound pulled away from each other, both panting with ragged breaths.

“Was that... you?”

“Omigod, so embarrassing. I guess I’m hungrier than I thought?”

Liam chuckled softly. Effortlessly switching modes, he helped Tabitha straighten her dress. With the doting care of a man who truly adored his wife, he smoothed down her hair and kissed her forehead, “well then we must feed you. Both of you.” His eyes twinkled and he let his hand rest on her stomach. For a second, it seemed as if a cloud passed over his gaze making his expression momentarily unreadable, but his face softened again quickly afterwards “Our dinner reservations aren’t until 7:30, but... I could pull some strings to make it earlier—“ He reached for the cellphone in his back pocket and started to dial.

“No, darling. I’m not really in the mood for dinner, but I could go for some gelato.”

“I know the perfect place. I’ll have them deliver to our room.”

“Liam, it’s ok. We can walk there. Like normal people.”

“But we aren’t normal people, Tabitha. I hate to be the one to remind you. We won’t be able to get the security clearances out there this late. Please, trust me on this one, my love. I do have ideas for how we can spend that time while we wait here to make it worth your while.” His hands moved down from her shoulders, slowly over her arms, and grazing over her hands before reaching behind to cup her ass.

“Oh? Like?”

“A foot rub? You asked for one awhile back and I do feel per my duties as your husband that one is long overdue.“ His eyebrows cocked suggestively as he pulled her flush against him again, toying further with the back hem of her skirt.

“That sounds heavenly” she purred, closing her eyes and inhaling the scent of his cologne and enjoying the pressure of his body against hers. “But what about you? Suppose we book some professionals for a couple’s massage in the room? Like we did for our honeymoon?”

“Perhaps, another time. Sometimes...”

He bent down to growl low at her ear, his hand cradled her throat

“Sometimes, I want to be the only one who gets to touch you.”

His lips kissed and softly sucked at the cartilage rimming her ear down to the lobe.

“Okay...mmm... you are very convincing.”

“I’ve learned from the best.” he murmured with his lips against her skin. “Go, sit down on the couch. I’ll be right there.” He hung up his blazer and unbuttoned his shirtsleeves, rolling up the cuffs before he dialed a number on his cell, where he could be heard speaking to the person at the other end of the line in fluent Italian.

“Now, where were we?”

Liam joined Tabitha on the couch and patted his lap.

“Up, feet, now.”

“Yes, your Majesty.” Tabitha obliged, giggling. He carefully removed her sling back pumps and placed them on the floor. Then lifting her heel, he began to knead the soles of her foot.

Tabitha closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the upholstered cushions.

“Ohhh... How do you know just what I need before I even know it?”

Liam tutted at her, a sideways smirk creeping across smile, “I’ve told you, it’s something I pride myself on; knowing you, what you need.”

His expert hands worked their way stroking up her toes.

“Omigod... that feels phenomenal...”

Her hips ground slowly from side to side as Liam increased the pressure. Tabitha moaned and arched her back off the couch

“mmmm... Liam How are you so good at this? Your hands are magic!”

He pressed in a tantalizing circular motion at the pressure point under her left arch, causing a jolt of electricity to pulse a current that shot straight up to her core. She inhaled sharply and bucked at the sensation, causing the hem of her dress to fall backwards revealing her thin lace underwear. He could see the physical results of his efforts by the small damp spot forming at the crotch. It made him ache for her.

“Tabitha...”

Liam let her foot down to dip his torso towards her and leaned down to kiss her lips. He groaned into the kiss as she deepened it, cupping his jaw as his lips moved feverishly against hers. His hand reached down, pushing her dress up more, skimming her bare, pregnant belly and traveling lower still to toy below the waistband of her panties.

“Oh, Liam—“

A sharp knock at the door interrupted their moment.

Liam sighed, smiling sheepishly, pulling her dress back down. “...That, would be the gelato.”

“Fuuuck.” Tabitha bit the back of her knuckles in an attempt to sober up for company, wincing. “Damn my stupid cravings.”

“Indeed.” He kissed her cheek softly and rubbed her shoulder, “we’ll pick this up later.” before gently patting her rear end and getting up to answer the door.

The handsome Italian Gelateria owner who came to their door had closed his shop and wheeled a refrigerated cart on foot to their vacation villa. They had a multitude of flavors to choose from. Tabitha’s mouth watered, overwhelmed at the prospect of having to make a decision out of so many options.

Liam, ever practical, knew exactly what he wanted.

“Vorrei un gelato stracciatella, per favore.”

Tabitha wrinkled her nose “Just chocolate chip? You’re only going to get one flavor? When there’s so many to choose from? That’s no fun.”

“Why not?” He shrugged. “I know what I want. It’s chocolate, it’s Vanilla, I get the best of both worlds in one flavor.”

“Liam, live a little! Let’s try something... *ahem* Vorrei un gelato con tre gusti, per favore.”

The Gelateria owner smiled at her, “Quali gusti vorrebbe?”

“cioccolato all ‘Azteca, stracciatella, y Nocciola, per favore.”

Liam smirked at her boldness, “That’s an awful lot of gelato.”

“Hush, you. Just trust me on this one.”

He chuckled, shaking his head

“Ok, you’re the boss.”

Liam thanked and generously tipped the gelato store owner, and dimmed the lights before rejoining Tabitha at the table.

“Now how, on earth, do you suppose we‘re going to eat all of this?”

“Patience, grasshopper. Watch & learn.”

“I’m listening.”

Tabitha spoke as she poked at the scoops of gelato in the bowl with the sharp end of her spoon.

“Liam, Stracciatella is a perfectly good flavor, by itself. But add some Noccicola, some Cioccolato all ‘Azteca, dip your spoon in all three, let their flavors meld and mix on your tongue, and it makes for a bite that becomes an experience, something you’ll never forget. Something you’ll find yourself craving to recreate that sensational combination, when one flavor just won’t do.”

He halfheartedly clapped, voice dripping with sarcasm “My Queen, I think you’ve missed your calling as a marketing executive. That was positively Don-Draperesque.”

“High praise, and a Mad Men reference on top of everything? I’m impressed!” she smiled. “But it means nothing if I can’t convince you that I’m right. So go on then, try it.”

Tabitha dipped her spoon again into each of the three flavors. She held it up to him, her eager anticipation awaiting his response making her eyes go wide and bright. Liam bent down tentatively, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he let her feed him. His eyelids closed once he took the full spoon in his mouth, and his hands drew up against his lips to hold it in as she pulled out, trying to keep it all in.

“Well...?”

“It’s....”

“‘It’s...’ what?”

Liam put his hand up to shield his mouthful of gelato as he spoke

“It’s bloody amazing.”

“Right? That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! Three is better than one.”

He dabbed a napkin at his mouth and finished swallowing his bite. “You’re not still talking about gelato... are you?”

“Please, Liam. I know you’re not that dense.”

Liam gathered his breath and drew a large sigh, taking another spoonful

“I signed off... on the plans.”

“What?”

“Drake’s plans. And yours, I gathered? Since you two seem to be tag teaming me to cave to your will.. For the cottage on your open estate lands in Valtoria.”

“Does that mean... you’re on board?”

Liam sighed.

“I, want to make you happy, Tabitha. More than anything. But I still can’t help but feel apprehensive about this idea. I know you and Drake are both bullish about it but, I...”

Liam looked down, trying to gather his thoughts. Tabitha could see the agony on his face, though he was trying to hide it.

Tabitha gave him a conspiratorial smirk

“That’s what the pot is for, darling. You boys are going to have so much fun, I’m actually quite jealous”

“Jealousy… interesting word choice. That’s another concern of mine...”

“Wait, you mean jealous of each other while we’re… Liam, if you’re worried about jealousy, you won’t find any from me. Max isn’t a jealous person at all, he’s done this before, and—"

Liam sighed

“Wait a minute. This isn’t just about the foursome is it? You’re still trying to work through the-“

She lowered her voice in a hushed tone,

“You, and Maxwell... the baby?”

Liam didn’t say anything, but looked down, his face couldn’t conceal his troubled feelings any longer with her.

Tabitha broke the silence again

“Are you still upset with me?”

“No. I was at first. Though, you didn’t deserve any of my ire. That was when I let my primal brain take over. Drake calmed me down, a lot. And I don’t blame you Tabitha, or Maxwell. I’ve made my peace with it. I am going to love this child and raise them as my own, regardless of whom the biological father turns out to be. But I can’t help but feel I should blame myself, for putting us all in this situation in the first place. I... wish I had been able to give you a simpler life.”

“Liam, what do you mean?”

“Part of me bears this unshakeable guilt...”

“Guilt? About what? Us?”

“No. Yes. No, it’s— it’s guilt that this, us, that we couldn’t just be simple. That we couldn’t just be enough for each other. I’ve told you before, Tabitha. You were the only one of my suitors who didn’t want to run away, or didn’t demand that I remove Drake from my life, when you found out about my complicated relationship with him. Drake even sensed that about you before you made it clear to me that you would accept me with all of the strings attached. It’s why he tried to suppress his own feelings for you, because we both knew what a gem you were, Tabitha...” Liam reached across the table and held her hands in his, with tears in his eyes, “you’re my ‘once in a lifetime.’ When I found you, I finally found the one I was searching for. I realized in you that I could fulfill my duties as King, to marry such a beautiful, marvelous woman. To have the heirs demanded of me, to have your love and also be able to keep the love of my best friend, it’s more than I ever dreamed possible. It’s why I’ve wanted to give you everything you could ever want, including that night with Maxwell....”

He swallowed back tears.

“When, you told me that the baby might be his, my biggest fear wasn’t that I might not be the father. I mostly feared that if he was, that you would leave me for Maxwell, and that I could never find another woman as remarkable or incredible as you, who’d let me be myself. I don’t want to lose you, Tabitha. I literally don’t know what I would do without you. I just worry that this experiment of yours will cause tensions that will end up with people I love getting hurt, and cause you think that you don’t need or want me, and-"

“Liam, stop. That would never happen. I married you. And you’re stuck with me now. For better, or for worse. And the parts with you, have all been ‘for better.’ I love you.”

“I still wish I could give you all of me.”

“You wouldn’t be the man you are today without Drake in your life. I see how he calms and grounds you. I know how much you need each other”

“But why do we have to all be together? Like... that? I honestly don’t understand the appeal. Sex has always been such an intimate act for me. I have never understood exhibitionism because for most of my life I always had to hide my feelings, until I met you...” he smiled with love in his eyes as he squeezed her hand across the table, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to— perform, with others around, and I don’t know how we’ll handle the fallout if it doesn’t go well. To be honest, I’ve always gotten a thrill out of being intimate away from prying eyes, the spontaneity of it—“

“Liam, is that why you get off so much on having sex outdoors, or anywhere else that’s not on a bed?”

“Well I’ve never analyzed my motivations so thoroughly before, Dr. Freud, but perhaps you might be on to something there.”

They both laughed, breaking the tension some, before Tabitha spoke again,

“Look Liam, I like a naughty fuck behind locked doors with a lover as much as the next person, it’s hot, sexy, dangerous, I get that. But sometimes, damnit, sometimes I just want to shout from the rooftops how much I love my three favorite men. And I want to be able to show you all that, physically! I get tired of all of this behind closed doors, off-the-record business all the time. I love you, I love Max, and I love Drake, I love what you and Drake share, and I don’t think any of us should be ashamed to admit it to ourselves! We should embrace it, celebrate it even. Don’t you think so too? You keep thinking of all of the possible ways this could go wrong, but what if, what if it goes right? What if making love to your wife and your best friend and her lover at the same time is the most amazing, earth shattering, mind blowing experience you’ve ever had, Liam? Just think of how good the sex could be if we put it all out on the line and can finally be fully honest with each other. Give it a shot. Give us a shot.”

“You make it all sound so goddamn reasonable. How on earth do you do that, Tabitha?”

“Because it is reasonable, and deep down, you know it too. Because we aren’t like other married couples. We never will be. Our many layers, our lovers, they’re what makes our love so extraordinary.”

Liam relaxed his shoulders with a stoic acceptance. “All right. You’ve convinced me. I’ll try it, for you.”

“You will? Oh Liam!”

She threw her arms around his neck as he tucked a finger underneath her chin to bring her lips to his and kiss her deeply. The passion in the kiss burst from Tabitha’s mouth hot like fire. Liam let a low moan escape from his throat, echoing at the back of hers. She pulled back from his lips just enough to rest her forehead against his, as his strong arms easily braced her frame pulled flush against him.

“God, I’d do anything to make you smile like that at me, my love.”

“I am so, so happy right now! Aren’t you?”

“It’s difficult to not catch that sentiment from you, my queen. Your energy is infectious. But honestly, I’m still-”

He let out a low exhale.

“- a bit, nervous. I’ve never...”

“Had group sex before?”

“No! Of course not. Have you?”

“No, I almost had a threesome once. There was this one time, in college...”

Liam chuckled. “I should have known. You and Drake had all of these ‘forbidden experiences’ that I missed out on 'in college.' What is it about Americans throwing caution to the wind when they attend University?”

“Yeah well, I kinda had a crush on my best friend Mark, and I think he felt the same about me, but we were always dating other people. Anyway, one time his girlfriend Amy, whom I couldn’t stand, said they wanted to have a threesome with me.”

“I gather, you turned them down then?”

“I couldn’t go through with it. I had feelings for Mark but I hated her so much. She could be a real monster. I knew it wouldn’t work out.”

“And... this tale of yours is supposed to make me feel better about our plans?”

“No! I mean, yes? That was different. I had no respect for Amy. But you, and me, and Max and Drake, we all know each other and genuinely care for one another. It’s a totally different situation.”

Liam scratched at the stubble on his chin deep in thought. “I see... so what ever happened to this ‘Mark’ - What was his last name again?”

Tabitha could see Liam’s brows furrowed with a tinge of mock jealousy as he started typing on his cellphone.

“LIAM! oh my god - Don’t!” Tabitha laughed as she swatted the phone away from him.

“No, I insist! I need to know about all of the many men in my wife’s past.”

“It’s a funny story, you know after we graduated, I hadn’t heard from him in years, until I got a FaceSpace Message from him, just a few months before I met you. He told me he found a job listing he thought would be perfect for me out in San Francisco, writing a dating advice column for a web publication.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and he even found a place for me to live, some of his friends in the city who were looking for a new roommate.”

“I’m, guessing you turned it down?”

“I did. I told him I wasn’t quite ready to make that big of a move yet, Daniel and I were still locked into a couple more months on our apartment lease, there would have been huge fines if we broke it. And little did I know then how just a few months later that my life would change when a literal handsome prince and his two best friends would all come into my dive bar and sweep me off my feet, and turn my world upside down, in the best way possible.”

“Well, I feel like I should write this ‘Mark’ chap a thank you letter then, for not sweeping you off your feet.”

“You’re crazy, Liam.”

He winked at her. “I only kid. Did you ever hear back from him?”

“Not much after I turned him down, no. I did check out his FaceSpace profile several months ago, just out of curiosity. He’s in Seattle now. He made millions selling an app he developed to a big software company there. Crazy, right?”

“Do you ever think about, how much simpler your life might have been if you had taken him up on the offer?”

“What? For the threesome? Gross, not with him and Amy, never.”

“No, I mean moving to San Francisco. Rekindling an uncomplicated romance with an uncomplicated man with no obligations to ruling a sovereign nation, no strings attached...”

“No, Liam, no. Never. I thank my lucky stars every day that I turned him down. I don’t even want to think about what my life would be like if I hadn’t met you, and Maxwell, and Drake. Coming to Cordonia was the best thing that ever happened to me. And for all of the good and the bad, I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

He clasped her hands together and kissed her soundly.

“I’m so glad you feel that way. I love you, Tabitha. I feel like the luckiest man on earth that you chose to let us into your life. To love me, all of me. You are such a gift, and I could never properly put into words just how much you mean to me.”

“I love all of you Liam, every part.”

He pulled her into an embrace with his arms wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in tight until their bodies melded together

She leaned back, beaming up at him, as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear..

“Liam, I really appreciate you agreeing to get out of your comfort zone and agreeing to give this a go. I know how hard it is for you.”

“It’s hard for, selfish reasons, really... but it’s definitely not hard to agree to fulfill the desires of the two people I love most in the world.”

“And I feel so lucky to make it onto that exclusive list of yours.”

Tabitha took his hand and led him over towards the bedroom.

“I want to show you my appreciation. Tell me what your biggest sexual fantasy is that you’ve never done before.”

“You are my fantasy, my love. I don’t need anything else.”

“Ok, that’s romantic as hell, but. I call bullshit”

“What?! You would doubt me?”

“I know you, Liam. I know there’s some wild erotic fantasy knocking around inside that insanely beautiful brain of yours that you’ve been too timid to tell anyone about before. Tell me. I want to make it happen for you.”

“Well...”

“Yes! I knew it. Tell me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absofuckin’lutely.”

Liam chuckled, “You sound just like Drake.”

“He does rub off on you, but... I probably don’t need to tell you that.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him suggestively.

He blushed keenly with a knowing glint in his eye. “There you go again,”

They laughed until Liam’s shoulders eased and taking a long breath and a solid sip of wine, he dared himself to open up to her.

“Bondage. That I could do, to you. Light bondage anyway. Nothing that would hurt you, I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you, but the idea has, intrigued me...”

Tabitha’s mouth fell open with shock, her lips drawing up into a smile as she reacted to his suggestion.

“Wow, Liam, that’s so hot! I’m into it.”

Liam was taken aback by her eagerness,

“You’re... serious? Because if you’re not, don’t tease me, just forget I said anything and I’ll—“

As if to prove her point, Tabitha began undressing immediately.

“Totally serious. I’ve never been with someone before who’d be into it who I’ve trusted as much as I do you.”

Her hands went for his belt buckle and she smirked up at him,

“Let’s do it.”

“As you wish.”

Liam wrapped her in his arms, crushing his lips against hers with newfound ferocity. Their clothes were quickly discarded on the floor, leaving Tabitha naked, and Liam in nothing but his black briefs. He threw her down on the bed, and made moves to bring closer a small duffle bag with his belongings.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes, with my whole life.”

“Put this on,”

She secured the familiar blue silk eye mask over her head, pulling out her hair from the ties in the back to make a tighter fit.

“Can you see?”

“Nope! Not a thing.”

“Good. Now, if you’ll humor me, lie down here on the bed, my love, and listen while I give you a short civics lesson in Cordonian crime and punishment.”

She giggled “Your Historian Nerd-foreplay is absolutely adorable, Liam. I—”

:::Rip::: :::Rip::: :::Rip:::

“Liam? Are you ripping the sheets?”

“The Cordonian Royal coffers paid good money for this villa. I intend to get our money’s worth. Will you allow me to continue?”

“...yes”

“Good.”

The sound of ripping fabric continued in the background of Liam’s monologue. Tabitha peeked beneath the blue silk blindfold, focusing intently at his biceps and pectoral muscles flexing and contracting beneath his taut skin as he methodically stripped the flat sheet into inch wide strips and continued to speak.

“Did you know that under Cordonia’s high treason laws, our Lord Chancellor barrister could legally try and execute upon conviction and my orders, anyone who binds the Queen?”

“Really?”

“Yes, it’s an ancient law that never became modernized, so it’s technically still in effect. One of those things we’ve been meaning to update, but it hardly ever comes up, so it gets pushed aside.”

He held her wrists together, kissing the inside of them before he began to wrap her arms further with the white strips of bedding.

“But because it’s still law, that means if either Maxwell, or Drake, or anyone else, Noble or not, decided to have a ‘romp’ with you and some rope or handcuffs in the bedroom, I could... legally, have them executed.

“...my god.”

“There’s only one person who is immune to this law.”

“...Who?”

Liam cocked an eyebrow at her, smirking at her as he tightened the binds at her wrists,

“The King.”

Tabitha moaned in her gasp of breath.

“Liam...”

“Now, just so you know, upon my honor, I would never do such a thing. That’s why Anton and his bastard cronies are going to spend the rest of their lives rotting away in prison cells, rather than lose their heads. Still, it would please me, greatly, in this... complicated arrangement of ours with our lovers, to have something, intimate, that only you and I could share, as husband & wife. Don’t you agree?”

“Liam...”

“Is that a yes?

“...Yes. That’s so hot.”

“And for now, since you’re carrying our child, I’ll remain extra delicate with my methods.”

“What about after the baby’s born?”

“... then all of my restraints, in regards to gentleness with you, are lifted.”

“I... anxiously await that day.”

Liam finished tightening the remainder of her restraints. He looked at her so vulnerable and at his mercy, feeling both aroused and overwrought with pangs of guilt at what he was planning to do to her

“Is this ok?”

“You don’t need to keep asking me if something’s ‘OK.’ I trust you completely Liam, and I just want you to have your way with me.”

“...Noted.”

“When I submit to you, it means everything is ok. If it makes you feel more comfortable letting loose, we can have a safe word in case anything ever goes too far.”

“A safe word? What should it be?”

“Your safe Gelato flavor would be the ideal word. ‘Stracciatella.’”

“I’ll remember that one.”

.......

He felt the excitement of a man about to experience something he had long craved but was just now about to taste.

Liam secured her wrists to her ankles with the strips of bedding. His mouth watered at the sight of her skin covered in goose pimples from the anticipation.

Tabitha’s hands strained against her restraints, her body’s automatic response and reflex to wanting to remove the blue silk blindfold.

“Are you sure you trust me, my love?” The deep cadence of his voice relaxed her struggling.

“Yes, my King” she purred. Of course she trusted him.

Liam’s cock twitched in his tight briefs at her words. He bit his lip and continued, hardly believing this was all happening.

She could hear him step away from the bed and the sound of a long metal zipper being pulled open. Sounds of rummaging around in a bag followed, before she heard and felt the sounds of his steps returning to her. Her pussy was spread open and aching to be filled

“Liam I need you.”

“Not... just... yet.” He playfully slapped her asscheek and she gasped, smiling. “You must be patient.”

She heard the sound of a switch flipping and a deep electronic vibrating pulse that seemed to be causing ripples in the air around them.

Tabitha bit back a laugh and shook her head He brought my ‘Magic Wand’ on holiday?? So presumptuous...

Just then she felt the pressure of it on her mound, pressing her lips open and vibrating against her clit. She tried to angle herself so the stimulation wasn’t so direct, but her restraints prevented her from achieving that goal. Tabitha’s insides seem to convulse in both protest and excitement. It felt so good it hurt. She mewled, reveling in her arousal, but in the back of her mind she worried if this much stimulation would be harmful for the baby. No matter, she was having too much fun to stop Liam now.

Liam watched her expressions fascinated, trying to interpret what was going through her mind. He kept the vibrator at her groin and leaned forward to suck and knead her breasts.

“Liam please!”

His hand roved downward, tracing her landing strip before he inserted a finger in her. She was soaking wet, so ready, but he wasn’t quite finished with tormenting her yet.

“You’re doing beautifully, my love. Stay focused.”

Though legs quaked with longing she nodded her head, committed to submission.

Liam liked being in control. He was born and bred for a life of public service to his kingdom, a Constitutional Monarchy but a monarchy no less, but there was something primeval and deeply engrained into the fiber of his muscles, this rush and natural high of being the one fully in control over her capacity to feel sensations of both pleasure and pain, that awoke his passions anew in him much like nothing else had in quite some time. The charge he got from discovering that she was as into it as he was both a surprising and thrilling discovery for him.

“Tell me when you’re about to come.”

Tabitha whimpered. She wanted him to ravage her right then. Biting her lip, she stayed focused on the smells of his cologne that wafted from him as he hovered over her, the sound of the vibrator pulsing electronic waves against her sex, the slight metallic taste of blood on her lips for biting back her screams. It suddenly became too much to hold in.

“Liam, I...”

The Magic Wand shut off. She cried out

“No Liam, please!”

"Are you ready for me to fuck you now?" He said untying her.

Once her hands were freed, she hungrily pushed up her blindfold, overly anxious to see him again.

The site that greeted her was his face in the candlelight, glistening with sweat and flushed with arousal. He was completely naked now, hovering above her, staring deep into her eyes.

“God, Liam, you are so gorgeous, take me now.”

“Tonight, I’m all yours.”

He moved over her gripping her wrists tighter, locking her into place, and crushed his mouth to hers. “God, Tabitha, I love the way you taste,” he moaned into her mouth whilst his knee nudged her thighs apart and his swollen cock hovered at her entrance. Ripping his mouth from hers, he gazed down at her flushed face. Her swollen, just bitten lips still beckoned, and the precum glistening at his tip gave away his eagerness to penetrate her and give in to that ultimate release, yet he resolved to stretched her patience just one more time. “Tell me, my love, tell me again.” With conviction and deep sincerity, she looked deep into the sapphire blue of his irises ringing the deep black pupils dilated with lust and she moaned. “Take me, please.”

He plunged his cock deep within her and their bodies moved together, finally, as one. Tabitha’s hands now freed, raked her nails up and down his back. He shivered and groaned as she lifted her head to softly bite at his neck. All the build up from the evening’s events came crashing down like lightning and Liam came long and hard inside her. Her walls pulsed around his shaft as she screamed his name.

They lay tangled up in each other for what seemed like an eternity, the night air cooling their sweat, their bodies strewn over the leftover scraps of fabric. They were both was almost asleep when Tabitha felt something, like a small hammer from inside her womb.

“Liam!”

“What’s wrong?”

She took his hand and placed it deliberately on her belly, holding it there, before she felt the flutter again

“That’s the baby?”

“I think so?”

“Our baby.”

“Yes! These are the first movements I’ve felt”

“Wow, that’s so incredible, it’s… you don’t think I hurt—”

“I think if we had, there’d be no kicking at all.”

Liam kissed her temples and held her, cradling her abdomen as the baby’s flutters continued. He fell asleep like that before she did, and she laid in his arms, feeling happy, though her heart ached suddenly when she found herself missing Maxwell.

---

Thanks so much for continuing to read and for all of the feedback, likes reblogs and support!! :)

*OTR Tag List:

@bobasheebaby @indiacater @ritachacha @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @kate-mckenzie @brightpinkpeppercorn @queen-among-writers @itsbrindleybinch @ao719 @cosigottahavefaith @choiceslife @alj4890 @jovialyouthmusic @be-still-my-aching-heart @basiclatinagirl @sirbeepsalot @emichelle @brightpinkpeppercorn @average-sunflower @furiousherringoperatortoad @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @thegingerwithcurlyfries @dianalend @broxanneq @rhymesmenagerie @carabeth @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @writinghereandthere @majesticegg @donutsgirl36 @beaumontypython @lauraj217 @sofiakenobi @rainbowsinthestorm @dcbbw @fumikechu

#off the record #otr part 9 #trr fanfic #choices fanfiction #king liam #liam x mc #liam x drake #liam x drake x mc x maxwell #choices fanfic #ns*w #lemon #maxwell beaumont #drake walker #the royal romance #the royal heir

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daebakinc · 6 years ago

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Pairing: Hoseok x Female Reader Genre: Smut, Bondage, Edging, Fluff Word Count: 2.8K Summary: You have your way with Hoseok completely at your mercy. A/N: In addition to this being a request, it is also partially dedicated to @moonofmirrors, my Wonho convert, and @loveshackbaby, who I may have had a conversation or two about this with.

The salt lamp’s flickering imitates that of an open flame, consuming and carnal. The scene it lights is equally as ancient and natural. Two bodies apart and opposite each other with relaxed limbs, but fingers trembling with the need to caress and eyes in danger of devouring.

You know patience, its virtue that lies in the heavy rewards reaped upon a long task’s completion. You have been patient, taking care in each wrap and knot. Even though your work is only half done, the promise of the awaiting prize dances before your eyes. That hungry desire slams into your gut all over again.

“You look really beautiful like this, Hoseok,” you murmur.

Hoseok is always beautiful, but now that word seems paltry, completely unworthy of him. Shadows stretch and shrink as they tease across the black rope binding him to the chair and strapping his arms to his sides. His pale skin glows with health and heat against the rope that crisscrosses over it. As you watch, he adjusts his seat as best he can, the muscles in his shoulders and thighs tensing and relaxing. You can almost feel them beneath your palms. Soon, you’ll have those muscles quivering beneath your touch.

“Thanks.” Hoseok smiles at the compliment. His smile is easy, as if he’s not completely naked and incapable of moving more than a few centimeters. “Do you really think we needed both though?”

You hold in a laugh when he twists his wrists to rattle the short length of chain connecting the cuffs on his wrists beneath the chair. “I can afford a new chair, not another bed. I’m not taking a chance of you breaking my headboard again.”

“Wasn’t my fault those bars were so weak. I told you I’d buy a new one.” His bottom lip pushes out in a pout.

“Nope.” Approaching him, you check the rope around his ankles, then the cuffs at his wrists, slipping a finger between the padding and Hoseok’s skin. “You’re sure everything feels alright?”

“Mmm,” he answers, stretching his neck to nuzzle your ear. His teeth graze the cartilage, the pressure just enough to ensure a shiver down your spine.

“Hey,” you look at him from the corner of your eye. “I’m supposed to be tormenting you, not the other way around.”

“Sorry. I can’t help it when you smell so good. I love that perfume.”

You chuckle when you notice his gaze slide down your neck to where your scarlet silk robe crosses your chest, the shadow it creates hiding more than it reveals. “Among other things.”

Hoseok shrugs with a wicked smile, knowing full well he’s been caught.

Stepping back, you settle a hand on your hip and drag your fingers towards your palm, bringing the fabric with you. It glides across your skin, letting him see a flash of clinging lace before you let it fall again. “Ready to see your gift?” you ask, twirling the robe’s string of a belt around a finger until the knot is ready to give.

Hoseok doesn’t answer right away. Starting from your feet, his eyes loiter along the curves of your body. He knows every spot to exploit to render you pliant and weak with pleasure beneath him. His sultry gaze lights a heat your skin as effectively as his expert hands. You fight to hide the hitch in your breath.

Time to end the game before he gains the advantage. With one tug at the belt and a shrug of your shoulders, your robe flutters to the floor. A very female satisfaction floods your body at Hoseok’s dropped jaw and twitch of his cock.

“Bad choice?” you tease, tracing a finger down the barely-there strap of your bra, along the wavy line of its cup, right to the tiny, delicate bow at the valley between your breasts.

“Very bad,” he breathes, eyes following your other hand that toys with the band of your matching panties. He bites his lip and you know he’s imaging his mouth in place of your fingers skimming the soft skin of your stomach and hips.

You step closer. The chair legs scratch on the floor and the chains rattle as he tries to reach for you.

“Damnit,” Hoseok mutters, dropping his head back.

“Hey, you agreed to this.” You shrug. You take your time turning around and bending at the waist to pick up your robe to put on the dresser, stifling a giggle at the frustrated sound from him. “Last week you had me all trussed up. Equal opportunity between the genders, you know.”

“That was before I knew you were going to wear that!”

“Not letting you know was part of the surprise. Besides,” Returning to him, you sink down onto his lap, sitting on his knees to keep distance between you. You kiss the corners of his mouth and pull away when he tries for a full kiss. “If you’re good, maybe I’ll let you touch after.”

“Like you’re not going to drain me dry,” Hoseok replies with a short laugh.

“Oh? I thought you were Mr. Stamina.”

He sucks in a breath when your fingers brush a line from his throat all the way down to the apex of his hips. Commanding his gaze with yours, you lean down to grab the bottle of lube you’d placed beneath the chair. A flick opens the lid. After pouring a generous amount across your palm, you toss the bottle onto the bed behind Hoseok.

Your fingers loosely close around his cock. He holds his breath, waiting. Tightening your grip, you leisurely slide your hand up his sensitive skin to spread the slickness. You focus on Hoseok’s face. His eyes flutter shut at first contact, but he forces them open to watch you stroke him from base to just before his head. Each unrushed pass and deliberate twist of your hand fully brings him to life. Thick, velvet-clad iron warm in your hand and begging for you.

He bites his lip, muffling his rumbles of appreciation. Beneath you, the chains jangle as he squirms. The sound makes your heart beat faster and liquid heat pool between your legs. His hips begin rocking into your hand, wordlessly pleading. Hearing the telltale climbing pitch of his voice, your hands increase their pace. You clench your thighs around his legs to stay steady.

“Hoseok,” you whisper when pants mix with his moans. Scooting up his lap so the rising heat of your core is closer to his growing need, you lean in.

With dark eyes that betray the depth of his arousal, he glances at you, searching your face. He’s unsure if the words you utter next will bring him gratification or exasperation.

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

Hoseok’s gaze falls to your lips. He nods.

“Close your eyes then.”

“Why?” he asks in a rough voice. His peak is almost within reach and you can tell he wants nothing more than to tumble over it with the taste of you on his lips.

“It’s a surprise.”

“I’m starting to dislike surprises.” He closes his eyes.

Hoseok’s skin is salty with the beginnings of sweat as you press a kiss to the center of his chest. The muscles of his chest tighten beneath your tongue as it drags across his skin to flick one nipple, then the other. The sensitive buds harden at the first lick, making him cry out. Your hands drop away from his cock to crawl up his chest, fanning out to curve around his shoulders. You knead the muscles there, happier than a cat in sunlight. The day you tire of worshiping every bit of this man is the day you die.

“Sweetheart,” Hoseok says through gritted teeth when you bite the deliciously curved, firm muscle of his bicep.

“I’m coming,” you reply, nipping him one more time before kissing up his neck. You rock your hips against him as reassurance. His cock jumps at the temptation, so close but unachievable. “Promise. I’ll make you feel even better.”

His lips part at the feeling of your mouth on his jaw. You let your breath hit his cheek, then slip from his lap, depriving him of all touch.

Hoseok’s eyes fly open as his climax fades. “What the f—”

Your fingers pause on the front clasp of your bra. With faux innocence, you ask, “Oh, should I leave this on? Or no?”

At his silence, you discard the bra. Hoseok licks his lips. His own disappointment is clearly forgotten in the face of his hunger for you. For a heartbeat, the intensity of his gaze flusters you. Before Hoseok, no one had looked at you in this way. Like you’re simultaneously the most precious and most desirable being to ever breathe. Like every second he isn’t not touching you, tasting you, loving you, is time completely wasted.

Even if you make love to him every day, you can never repay his devotion. But you can try.

Instead of settling in his lap again, you drop to your knees between his legs. Hoseok’s eyes widen.

“What?” you purr. You trail your fingernails up the tops of his thighs, then down the insides. “I didn’t say where I was going to kiss you.”

Whatever his retort was going to be is lost in a groan when you take his head in your mouth. Your tongue laps at it, drawing in the taste of him along with the sweet flavored lube. Hoseok’s head falls to his shaking chest. You know it’s killing him not to have his hands buried in your hair to guide your mouth. Hoseok never tugs to the point of hurting you, but the man knows what he wants and how. His tongue snakes out to lick his lips again. He’s fighting to relax, submit, to recover the high you tore away from him.

“Fuck, babe. Please, more,” he whimpers. The rope presses against his skin as he strains to move closer. “More.”

You release his cock and press a light kiss to its leaking tip. “Of course, love.”

Hoseok’s sighs in relief as your lips wrap around his cock again and slowly slide downward. Sucking, swirling, licking, humming, groaning. One of your hands reclaims its earlier grip to aid his stimulation. Moans stifled by his swollen from biting lips break free when your palm cups his balls.

Your eyes rove over the man above you. His glistening pink lips parted in honeyed song you alone get to hear. His flushed face with sweat trickling down it. His abdomen frantically chasing his next breath in the mounting inevitability of his climax.

The reality of the situation clouts your senses like a shot of pure alcohol. Hoseok is massive. He’s someone who could easily break you in half without trying. Yet for all his strength, he’s held powerless. The ropes and cuffs are insignificant. He’s held powerless by you. By little, insignificant you.

You alone can grant what he wants most. Without your consent, he’s unable to lose himself in ecstasy. If you weren’t kneeling, the thought would have brought you to the floor. The rush of power makes you rub your thighs together for some kind of sensation, anything. As Hoseok approaches the point of insanity, so do you.

Hoseok’s eyes lock onto yours. You nearly come right there and then. That’s how you know it’s time.

He lets out a high-pitched whine when you abruptly abandon him for a second time. “Fuck. Sweetheart, you trying to kill me?” he pants.

You take in the heated tint of his skin, the desperate darkness of his eyes, the way his bangs stick to his forehead with the sweat of his finish’s denial. You were wrong before. Hoseok is even more beautiful now.

“I couldn’t do this if I was where I was.” Hooking your thumbs in the waistband of your panties, you pull them down at a tormenting pace. You quiver as the air hits the stickiness between your legs.

As you straddle his lap again, the cuff’s chains rattle as if Hoseok wants to anchor his hands on your hips. “This time, you better finish what you start,” he growls, but his words have no strength. His voice is thin, weak from being brought to the edge without reward.

“I will.”

Guiding his cock to your entrance, you take a deep breath, letting the anticipation of being filled by him rack your body.

“Easy there,” Hoseok hisses as his head pushes into your warmth, your hands already digging into his shoulders. “I won’t last long if you go quick.”

“Like this?”

You slam down so your thighs rest on his, his cock sliding in like scorching silk. He bites back a choked breath. Your own breath is unsteady, shuddering in satisfaction at the empty ache in your core being filled. The impossibly perfect fit of Hoseok inside you.

Rocking, grinding your hips, you ride him, use him. Your chests rub against each other, slippery and hot. Fever fills your body, spilling over into your blood. You change the angle of your hips. Hoseok’s cock hits a spot that makes the rising coil of tension in the pit of your stomach spike. Sliding your hands up through his hair, you drag your nails back down his scalp. You pull at his hair to look in his eyes. They’re dazed, lost in the pleasure and heat.

You kiss him. Denying yourself the wonder that is his mouth was worth it. It pulls you, sends you tumbling further into the sinful sensations enveloping you. Hoseok’s lips are warm and wet and more luscious than Eden’s apple. Kissing him is heaven on earth. You slow your hips to savor his addicting flavor.

Metal snaps. Hoseok’s hands seize your thighs right below your bottom. He thrusts up, simultaneously pulling you down. You scream at the stretch, clinging to him as new level of ecstasy steals your senses. The cold, broken chains dangling from his cuffs smack against your thighs as he snaps into you.

White flashes across your vision as bliss overwhelms your mind, body, and soul. Consumes them. Dizzy with rapture, you let your forehead flop onto Hoseok’s shoulder.

“Come on, baby,” you whisper. Gathering the strength to lift your head, you nibble at his earlobe. “Cum.”

Hoseok’s hips stutter as you feel his hot release shoot against your walls. He turns his head and you meet his searching mouth with yours. This kiss is sloppier, breathless as you both spiral down from your highs. Your body tingles with the aftershocks of warmth and boneless contentment.

“Babe.” Hoseok waits until you pull away enough to look in his eyes.

“Yeah? Oh, right, sorry.” You wince when he slips out of you as you rise on wobbly legs. Your hands are only slightly steadier as you undo the rope’s knots.

Hoseok gets to his feet, shuffles to the bed, and falls onto it face-first with a moan.

Taking a washcloth from the bedside table, you sit beside him on the comforter and rub his back. The subtle shiver of his skin at your touch makes you smile. “Hey, can you roll over for me.”

“Haven’t you taken enough from me tonight?” he groans, but he does as you ask.

“I can never have enough of you.” You dab the sweat away from his face, then kiss his forehead. “Here, drink this.”

Hoseok accepts the bottle of water, pushing himself up on the pillows to take a drink. He smiles as you rub him down, kissing the few rope burn marks on his skin.

“That website’s a fucking liar,” you mutter when you get to his wrists. You unstrap the cuffs and toss them to the floor. “The chain’s working load limit should’ve been enough. I even checked the weights you used before I ordered these.”

“When’d you order them?”

“Like a month ago?”

Hoseok laughs and sits up to grab your shoulders. He pulls you to your back beside him. Snagging the washcloth from you, he quickly wipes the cum on your thighs away and tosses the washcloth. Then, he wraps his arms around you so you’re cushioned on his chest. With his heartbeat beneath your ear, it feels like the safest place in the world.

Hoseok’s fingers graze your back in rhythmic strokes. “I added like 25 kilograms since then. Those chains didn’t stand a chance.”

“Damn it. You muscle brain.” You playfully punch his shoulder. The jerk doesn’t even flinch.

He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. “I’m sorry?”

Sighing, you shake your head and kiss just below his jaw. “No, don’t be. I love your muscles.”

“You love biting them for sure.”

“I can’t help it. They look really yummy.”

He smirks. “And I’m guessing they taste yummy too?”

“Very.” You wink. Slinking your arms around his neck, you nuzzle his neck, your heart fluttering at his consequent happy sigh. “But I like your lips better.”

Humming, Hoseok’s lips brush the top of your head. “I like you better.”

You tilt your head to look in his eyes as you smile. “And I like you best.”

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