#this only took me less than an hour...woah...

[teakoodrawz]

Blind

[darnell-la]

Sub! Logan would be so fucking hot. And the way you write him is soo good! I'd love to see your ideas about how he would act as a sub.

note: we rushed this BUT we have more. better ones coming soon!

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

———

“Going to pearls,” a woman spoke as she got into his car. “What’s your name?” He asked to confirm. “Y/n,” she said. The man turned around, realizing that this young lady was alone.

Usually, he picks up a huge group. That’s why he has a limousine, but she’s alone and has no one on her guest list.

“You gonna drive, handsome?” Y/n asked. Logan quickly turned back around and began driving. He was surprised by the nickname, but he let it go. He’s been called everything by now.

Logan’s been driving for ten minutes, music low, and y/n looking out the window. He’s never felt this awkwardness because it wasn’t him and only one person in the car.

“So — Friends busy?” He asked. Y/n slowly turned her head, looking at the man in the mirror. “All canceled. As always,” she added before she looked back out of the window.

“Oh,” he said, feeling a bit bad. He could see she paid one hundred for every hour tonight, and he would be with her for six hours.

“I mean, I can talk to my job, probably give you a refund or somethin,” he said, feeling like he should help her in some way. Usually, the man couldn’t care less, but y/n’s a young woman going to a club alone.

“I’ll be fine — Guess all the drinks I bought will be for me,” she said in a low voice that pained Logan to hear. She seemed sweet, and her friends canceled out on her. All of them.

“What was this for? Like, tonight? What did you have planned for tonight?” He kept a conversation going which confused y/n. His profile says he preferred not to talk and that he wouldn’t talk first.

“Well, it’s kind of my birthday, so — Yeah,” y/n sighed. “Oh, well — Happy birthday?” He said, not knowing if it was appropriate. The woman giggled to herself at his attempt to make her feel better.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna drink? I’ve got plenty and I can’t leave with any bottles,” she said, pointing to the bottles on the table, all hard liquor and only one juice for a mixture.

“I kind of have to drive you back home,” Logan turned down her offer, which he’d never done before. “C’mon! It’s my birthday,” she smiled at the man as she raised a bottle for him to take.

Logan waved her off, wanting to be responsible and think about her life that could be at stake, but he still felt bad about the empty spaces on the couches.

“Fine, but only if you don’t report me,” he joked, making her laugh as she took a bottle herself. “Cheers to me and my only friend who showed up which is the bodyguard,” she raised her drink.

“Cheers,” the man chuckled before raising the drink to his lips. He watched the girl drink, thinking it would be a small amount like any young lady, but her — She had almost chugged half the bottle.

“Woah, bub — Don’t hurt yourself,” he said, making her roll her eyes playfully. “Oh, don’t be mad because I can drink more than you,” she said, wanting to have some kind of fun tonight. Getting her bodyguard drunk and then driving her home sounds like a fun story to tell.

“Trust me, y/n — You can’t,” he said, but y/n didn’t believe him. That was until he shrugged his shoulders and chugged the whole bottle. The expression across her face was stunned. She’s never seen anything like that before.

“What the fuck,” she whispered. “Yeah — Kinda my power,” he chuckled. The man turned around to start his job and stood outside of her closed section until she spoke.

“Wait! I-I’m kind of alone so I don’t mind if you — stay? Please, I kind of feel like shit,” she admitted. She told her friends she was completely fine about their cancellation, but she’s not. She lost a lot of money and her mood was talk.

Logan couldn’t turn the offer down just like the last, so he stayed. The two drank all night, finishing every last bottle. She even got him to dance with her which he wouldn’t have done with anyone else. He had no idea what’s gotten into him tonight.

“God, tonight was fun,” y/n said as the man turned the corner where her apartment was. “Yeah, it was,” Logan smiled as he took a quick look at the young lady who was now sitting in the passenger seat, body turned towards him.

“You don’t understand how much I appreciate you, Mister Logan. You were the best fun I’ve had in like years!” She admitted. He wasn’t scared to drink and dance like most of her friends were.

“You’re the most fun I’ve had in maybe forever,” Logan meant it, but she had no idea who this man was. She was too sad to notice when she first met him and now she’s too drunk to realize.

“Is there a way I can repay you? Maybe like a cup of tea? I don’t fuckin’ know,” y/n laughed with him. “I don’t know, hun, I kind of have to get back home,” he said.

“How far do you live from here?” She asked. “About thirty minutes,” he said. “Oh, no,” she gasped. He’d been drinking because of her, and now she was going to have him drive back and half an hour just to get him.

“Don’t worry, bub. I've been doin’ this a lot,” he said. “Yeah, but I’ll be stressed all night. Please, stay the night. I have a spare room? It’s the least I can do,” she said, sounding like a beg. “God, it’s hard to turn you down. Do you know that?” He said as y/n smiled.

Logan parked the car for the night before y/n got him situated in her spare room. “Still want tea?” She asked. “I think I’ll be fine, bub,” he said. “But a shot would due,” he added. He had seen the liquor drawer she had.

“Comin’ right up, handsome,” she said before walking off. As she did, he couldn’t help but watch her figure. He scanned her dress earlier, but she looked way better just now. Maybe it was the alcohol? He didn’t know.

“You always drink this much?” She asked. “Yeah, and you?” He asked as she handed him his shot before sitting next to him with hers. “As you can see,” she giggled.

“Cheers to a goodnight with a man I brought back from the club?” She couldn’t help herself. “Cheers,” the man downed the drink as he watched her. She’s looked so drinking…

“God, that it’s hard,” she shook her head. “Yeah,” he aimlessly said as he watched a drop of liquor roll down her lip. “Hey, c’mere,” the man said, softly turning her face before wiping the liquor from her mouth.

Y/n was shocked and silent, not knowing what to do after. That seemed so sweet, but at the same time, she was drunk out of her mind.

“They look pretty,” the man spoke, breaking the silence. His thumb grazed her bottom lip, loving the smooth feeling of them. “Really?” She asked low, feeling shy all of a sudden. She hasn’t been all night until now.

“Mhm hm,” he mumbled as he slowly leaned into her. She felt like she was in a trance the way she felt she needed to lean in. Her heart was raising until their lips touched.

At first, it was sweet and slow, maybe a little tongue but after they both opened and locked eyes, they couldn’t help it.

Y/n quickly hopped on top of Logan, now grinding on his hips as he held her up by her ass. The man was shocked at her aggression and dominance but couldn’t complain.

“You taste so good,” she said under her breath as she kissed him. “I’m glad I took you home,” she added before moving down to his neck. She felt this hard urge to mark the man she hardly knew.

“Fuck, y/n,” Logan moaned low. He knew his voice could go that high. Y/n hummed into his neck, sucking long and rough to make sure he was living here marked up.

“Can feel how hard you are. Bet you’ve been waiting for me to touch you all night, hm?” She asked, hands traveling down his stomach until she could palm his clothes cock.

“Mhm hm,” the man whined at her grip. “Words, baby,” she demanded in a soft voice. “Y-Yes, baby,” the man’s mouth went slack at her touch. “So good,” she said before pushing him down in the bed.

“Gonna be good for me tonight?” She asked as he nodded quickly. “Gonna be my birthday gift, baby?” Y/n had lifted her dress before fondling with his belt. “Yes, yes, I am,” he couldn’t hide his heavy breathing.

“Oh god — You’re a big boy, aren’t you?” Y/n pulled Logan’s cock out. He was heavy and huge. “Yes, I am,” he answered, wanting to be good for her. He wanted to make her proud. He wanted to make a woman he barely knew, proud.

“He looks hungry,” y/n stroked the man, watching his pre cum leak from the tip. Y/n spat on the man’s cock, making his eyes widen because no one has ever done that to him before. They’d just wrap their mouth around him or push him inside with no preparation.

“Gonna feel so good,” y/n lifted her hips before sliding all the way down in one go. “F-Fuck,” the man cried out, his already bucking up into her.

“Fuck — Could you be my bodyguard every night?” She jokingly asked but the man nodded back so quickly, she thought about it. Maybe he isn’t too bad. He was fun tonight. He could be fun every night.

“Gonna let me wet you every night, baby?” Y/n asked as she leaned down on his body. “Fuck, yes — I wanna be with you every night,” the man’s hips moved slightly up into y/n, causing her to clench around him from how deep he gets.

“How old are you again, baby?” Y/n asked. “Two hundred,” the man’s hands gripped y/n’s ass, not thinking about his response. “A man with a sense of humor — So hot,”

Y/n rolled her hips, grinding on the man to feel every thick and long inch in her. The way his skin rubbed her walls, made her squeeze around him. He was close but felt embarrassed about how short he was going to last.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” Y/n asked, seeing the man bite his lip, trying to focus on holding back. “C’mon — I want you to fill me,” y/n whispered in his ear before giving it a light slick.

“Fuck,” the man let out a shaky moan as his legs shook. “C’mon, baby — Cum in me,” y/n began bouncing in the man’s cock, feeling him twitch inside her. She just knew he was going to give her a big and well-needed load.

“C’mon,” y/n rode him harder, filling the room with their skin slapping against each other and her wet cunt coating his cock. “I’m cumming!” Logan warned through his teeth as his hips bucked upwards a few times.

Y/n kept riding him, mixing his seed inside of her until she felt like she had enough. “So fuckin’ good, baby. I wonder if you taste you,” y/n spoke, feeling the urge to suck him dry.

“Fuck, it’s too much,” the old man said, grilling her hips a bit tight so she could slow down, but she wouldn’t. “Oh, really?” She asked, feeling the knot grow in her stomach. She was so close.

“God- Fuck — I can’t take it, baby,” Logan tried begging her. “Yes, you can. Just a few more seconds, baby. You think you can do that?” She asked, looking into Logan’s eyes. They were glossy and full of lust.

The man nodded his head with a shaky hum, feeling the need to cum again. “Good boy,” she spoke as she leaned up, rocking her hips back and forth until she couldn’t anymore.

Y/n released on the man, earning a whine from him. After she came, he couldn’t hold himself in. He had come inside of her again. For the second time.

“Oh god,” y/n breathed out, feeling so full. “S-Sorry,” the man shook as she leaned in front of his face, hands rubbing his cheek. “Wanna feel more of you,” she said.

The man was shocked at how many times this woman could go, but he didn’t want to disappoint her. He wanted to pleasure her and make her happy. He tried to be good for her. And he was for the whole night and many more.

[ellastone-olsen]

hihihihi idk if youre accepting requests or not but if you are:

can you please do stripper!wanda x innocent!reader where reader's friend drags her to a nearby strip club to blow off steam. and reader is really innocent and is just sitting in the chair, slightly confused while watching the dancers do their thing on the pole. and reader is unknowingly eyeing one certain stripper (wanda) and wanda notices and comes over to reader. and reader's friend is teasing reader and telling wanda to give reader a lap dance when she comes over. and then wanda brings reader to like one of the private rooms in the back and like reader is realy inexperienced and awkward and tense. and then wandas there to like talk reader through it and reader's like REALLLY shy. okay woah thats a lot thank youuuuu take your time 💝

The art of eye contact - Wanda Maximoff

★Pairing: stripper!Wanda Maximoff x innocent!f!reader

Summary: your friend drags you to a strip club, what could happen there to such an innocent little thing like you?

★Warnings: little NSFW 18+, lap dance, grinding, pet names, a little fluff (sorry I can’t without fluff)

★Word count: 1.5k

★AN: hi anon! In general, my requests are closed, but I found this very interesting, so here we are. there was nothing about 18+ in the request and I decided to remove this part (well, almost). hope you’ll like it

The loud music and shining lights of the club were blinding as you sat shyly in your seat and looked somewhere at the floor. There was a can of soda on the table nearby. The people around are mostly men, but your eye notices some women who also came to watch the show. And only one question: what the hell are you doing here?

“Come on Y/N let’s go, I’ve been there more than once, maybe you’ll like it.” This is exactly what you heard from your friend half an hour ago, when you were sitting in her apartment and just playing online games. You came to her in a terrible mood because of a failed college exam and sought solace in this meeting. In the last couple of weeks, your nerves were on edge and all you need now was to let off steam after a series of failures. “Fucking shit, can’t you see they’re shooting at you!?” You told her angrily as she turned away from the laptop screen without following the game. You definitely needed another way to relax.

Despite your 21, you had never been to this kind of establishment and of all your friends, you were the most innocent person, not knowing what relationships and sex are. "Come on, let's go, don't be so boring." She insisted, "If you don't like it, then I give you permission to hit me." You took off your headphones and sighed. If you think so, then you were curious to visit the strip club. "okay." After that, within 10 minutes you were riding in a taxi to an address unknown to you.

Returning to the present time, you tried not to stare too much at all these people dancing at the poles, the clothes on them were becoming less and less every minute and your cheeks were flushed red. Your friend hit you with her elbow, signaling for you to look (she paid for the entrance and doesn’t want her money to disappear into the floor in which you are ready to make a hole with your gaze). You look up again and look at each dancer in turn until you reach her. To your right is dancing a woman with long red hair, which is pulled back into a messy bun with a shiny clip. Her top was already off, revealing a red fabric bra that did not hide the softness of her breasts. She was still wearing a long skirt that cut out to her hips, so you could see her legs, which seemed to be moving closer to you. Stop why is she coming to you.

While you watched as if under hypnosis, the stranger was already in front of you and grabbed the soda from your hand and put it on the table to put her hands on either side of you on the armrests. Her back arched and she made a small wave, so that her breasts were a few centimeters from your face, it seemed like you were ready to explode from what was happening. Her head tilted, her lips reached your ear so she could shout to you over the noise of the music, “I’m Wanda, nice to meet you.” In your opinion, people usually don’t get to know each other by sticking their almost bare breasts under the noses of strangers, but remember where you were and toss all the questions. In any case, all you did was nod and again direct your gaze somewhere to the side. It seemed that you had turned into a bundle of nerves and embarrassment.

Wanda took this as a sign that she needed to look for another client for the night, but your friend, who had been watching all this time from the side, took the redhead somewhere to the side and seemed to give her a bill and instructions on what to do.

"Where have you been?" You asked the girl as she approached with a sly grin, noticing how red you were. Why the hell did she bring you here and leave you to your fate? “I have another little gift for you that you’ve been eyeing so eagerly.” Was she teasing you? Defined. “What are you talking about, what kind of gift am I thinking enough for today.” Then your friend stepped aside and showed Wanda standing behind her. The girl leaned over so only you could hear, “I paid, so have fun.” You didn’t immediately understand what exactly she paid for, but Wanda’s sweet smile brought the idea to your brain and your eyes widened.

The redhead gently took your hand in hers and you obeyed (only out of curiosity) and followed her into the private rooms. When the red matte door closed and it became much quieter, you sat on the sofa with your hands on your knees and asked a question. “What exactly she told to do?” One of your knees is bouncing from the fact that you are shaking your leg trying not to be nervous. Your friend has already explained to the redhead what an innocent little thing you are, so the woman decided to first ask permission for some actions.

"She ordered a lap dance, but you're such a sweet girl that I was willing to do it for free just for you." She came up to you again and leaned in, so close that her breath was on your neck and you could smell the scent of her cherry perfume. “Can I sit on your lap honey?” Her soft sexy whisper drove you crazy and you squeaked in agreement. Immediately you felt the weight of her body on you, how her long legs in stockings wrapped around you and your core began to pulsate just from this. "What should I do? I…I never…” Wanda’s hips rocked and her core pressed against your stomach. “Oh I know baby, I can see it right away.” She giggled. “I’m sitting right on top of you, can you tell me your name?” Your head fell back and your hair fell into face, you really didn’t want to seem like what you were, namely the inexperienced mess right under her. “My name is Y/N.” Your hands grabbed the upholstery of the sofa, you didn’t know how to touch her, or whether it was possible at all.

Wanda's hands dropped to yours and placed them on her hips. “That’s it Y/N, you can touch me if you want.” Your head turned towards her and you finally looked into her big green eyes. It was so beautiful that no part of her body interested you as much as this. “Your eyes are so…lovely.” The woman seemed confused at these words. Her clients told her a lot, in particular something about her breasts or ass, but never before had anyone given her a compliment with such trepidation. “Oh, what a cute little thing you are Y/N.” She stood up on your knees, her hands reached for the clasp of her skirt, which she was still wearing, but you stopped her. “No, don't. I mean, you're so beautiful, you don't need to take your clothes off to prove it."

This was the third time you had confused her that night. Of course, your inexperience spoke to you, but you also didn’t want to do something so blatant with her, at least not right now. Although perhaps there was one thing that you wanted to get. “I...can you kiss me? That is, if you don’t want to or it’s forbidden, I don’t insist, but...” Her soft, full lips fell on yours without allowing you to finish, it seems that at these words the woman’s heart sank painfully. Her dark lipstick mixed with your cherry gloss and with every movement of your lips, your hands gripped her soft thighs tighter. “Wanda...” You wanted to ask, but she wasn’t done with you. When there was not enough air, she pulled away and turned her head away. “Sorry, it was not according to regulations.” You didn't understand why she was apologizing.

“No, no, everything is fine, at least... it sounds so stupid but... maybe you would like to get to know each other better and go on a date, for example?” You realized how naive it sounded, asking the girl from the strip club you had just met on a date. Surely everyone who was with her in this room made her such an offer.

Instead of words, the woman got up from you and you thought that the time that your friend had paid for was over, but after a few seconds she handed you a piece of paper with numbers. “Here, this is my number, text me in the morning if you don’t change your mind.” You took the small piece of paper from her hands and carefully placed it under your phone case.

For a minute you were in an awkward ringing silence. “Can I kiss you again?” You asked shyly. Even then, Wanda couldn’t refuse you.

When you left the private room and said goodbye, your friend immediately met you with questions about how everything went. You told her, not knowing that in this evening Wanda did not bring anyone else into the room where you were together.

[wakeup01]

Playing It Straight

“Roomieee. I need your help with something.” I hear the telltale high pitched cry from my twinky roommate Yuan’s bedroom. The last thing I need right now is his whiny ass distracting me.

“What it is? I have a date with this hot chick in half an hour. You better have clothes on this time dude.” My hand pushes the door to his room ajar and I see him laying down on the bed facing away from me. There was some upbeat trashy pop song playing on his sound system. Yuan begins to gyrate to the beat. “Don’t dance. No dancing.” I order bluntly, turning off his music.

There was being gay and then there was Yuan, who seemed to make it his whole identity. It was bad enough his room was colour coded in pastel purples to match his dusty lavender hair. But he had now painted the whole door too.

“It’s my big butt, I think there’s something wrong with it.” He announces with fake concern, rolling his hips on the bed sheet - revealing more of his smooth slim body than I ever dared wish to see. I make a internal note to ‘mace own eyes later’.

Yuan was not as innocent as he liked to make out and had on numerous occasions attempted to trick me into indulging in his fantasies. Gifting me a bright crop top and calling it a ‘fashionable tank top’ - it certainly turned heads at the gym the one day I wore it, or inviting me to a progressive club with the promise of scoring ‘lots of ass’. And the less said about ‘locktober’ the better, that was NOT a halloween costume. Only last week he had convinced me to listen to some gay as fuck audio tapes while I slept; obviously that crap didn’t work on a man like me. His justification always being ‘you’ll like it, I swear’. This one was a bit on the nose, even for him.

“Dude we talked about this, I’m flattered, really. I get it, I’m a gay bottoms wet dream. I can’t blame you for eying my superior meat.” I puff out my well built chest, barely contained in my tank top. “But fuck, it ain’t gonna happen.” I attempt to not make eye contact with him as he looks over his shoulder at me.

“No, like seriously. Something feels wrong, can you pleeease juth take a looksee. Pretty please.” He pulls down his shorts and moons me as I shield my eyes. It’s like the sun, you’re safe if you don’t look directly at it, right? Internal note: ‘buy more mace’.

“Serious like when you said we were in a ‘mandatory hand holding zone?” I hear muffled giggling coming from his pillow. “Bro it’s probably from all the things you shove up it.” I shudder, trying not to picture THAT in my head. “I’ll look but only if you promise me that you’ll drop that ‘I know you’re secretly gay bullshit.’ My friends at the gym heard that crap last time.”

“Hehe. Ooo thuch a manly jock. Geez, I pwromise. Meathead.” Yuan winks at me and I hated him for it. Hated the weird way it made me feel in my chest.

I sigh loudly for effect and bend down until the cleft of his…cheek is at eye level. I felt so self conscious, how on earth did he talk me into this? I look at my chiseled body just to remind myself, yes I am a man. A masculine man. God, here we go. My eyes briefly glance across his—ew—his raised butt before I quickly look away.

“Bruh I don’t see a thing. It’s a mans butt. Congratulations.” What the hell am I even looking for? I’m sat on the floor checking out a dude’s…posterior. And for what?

“Come on, look clother.” Yuan insists with a slight lisp, curving his back and pushing his rear higher.” Again, I look at my thick biceps, yes, still a man.

His hands pull at his buttocks and slowly part them, revealing his tight hole to me. Woah. One glimpse was all it took. I should have recoiled but instead I was fascinated. I’d never seen a man’s hole before, it was different…

I hear him say something to me but whatever it was, it didn’t seem too important. I couldn’t stop staring, it was like looking into a black hole, and the more I looked the more enraptured I became. It was distorting my worldview, it made me feel like I had been missing out on something all these years.

“Helloooo! See anything?”

“Uuhhh. Maybe.” I mumble, my head getting closer to his rear.

I pull away his hands and replace them with my own, laying my fingers across his round cheeks and spreading them wider. Wow, it was…dare I say, enticing? The rest of the room faded from my mind as my eyes fall deeper into his needy, winking hole. I lean in and my nose makes contact with his crack. I can’t help myself, I inhale and suck up his scent, it acts like an immediate aphrodisiac. My cock wakes up, poking against the edge of the bed.

“You have been lithening to your programming for me then. Good Meathead. Remember when you were the stuck-up clever one, going to college? That was thuch a bore.”

“Say what bro?” College? Did I…? Nah. That smart shit wasn’t for me bro, my head was like beef central. I haven’t a clue what he’s talking about but I was happy to be a good fucking meathead. Something in my mind told me I was supposed to be. It made me even more pumped about the gym session tomorrow, I gotta bulk up my pecs.

“Make sure to take lots of selfies tomorrow ‘bro’, I need to see your gains.” I continue to breathe in the sweet aroma emanating from his behind. What was I doing again? “So, anything there dummy? How about now?” giggle “Isn’t it likth so big.”

He wiggles his hips and pushes back into my face, my lips making contact with his boy pussy. My eyes go wide. Fuck, this was soo gay. I should be revolted, why am I still down here? I could get up and walk away whenever…whenever I wanted to. Suddenly my mouth felt parched, like I had spent a week in the desert. It became clear where this was going. I’m not sure if I could even stop myself at this point, one tiny thing could tip me over the edge and disintegrate my own self image. It was as If I was having an out of body experience, seeing myself pressed against him. I wouldn’t, I was stronger than this. I was straight. Straight as an arrow… straight as a…

“Eat up jock.”

F—fuck. My lips open and my tongue presses up against his rear, dragging up and down between his cheeks and then swirling around his inviting hole. It was like a dam breaking, once I started I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. He tasted too good. Ready for the main course, my tongue dives deep into him and begins to eat him out in earnest, my mouth sucking at his entrance like I’m slurping on a ice cream filling.

While giving him a very manly rimjob I think of a solution to our problem. I finish up indulging in his sweet cake and pull my face out, slapping his jiggly butt cheeks.

“So what’s the issue?” He asks impatiently.

“It’s empty for one. Huhuhu. But I can fix that bro.” I say confidently, rushing to remove my underwear so I can finally nut inside him.

I push his skinny back down against the bed and line up my monster cock with his lubricated hole. Yuan moans into his pillow like he should. I slide into him with ease and flex my arms, feeling proud at ‘conquering’ my roommates hole.

“Good Meathead.” He praises between loud panting. “Mmm. But I thought you were straight.”

“I am. Unff. Just helping a bro out. No homo. Though I do need to see if there’s anything wrong with your throat after I plant my seed in your hole.”

______________________________

The next day.

“Man that was a fucking lit workout.” I exclaim, marvelling at my bulging muscles. I tense my arms and see my veins pop, sweat dripping to the floor. “Though you losers sure focused a lot on your glutes today. Hey—aren’t you ‘queens’ gonna shower?” I turn as my gym bros stop behind me in the locker room.

“Well… we spoke to your roommate about your progress yesterday.” Xavier states, removing his damp muscle tee - his dark shiny skin reflecting the harsh lights from overhead.

Yesterday…for some reason my memories from the day before were a blur. For the life of me I can’t remember what happened. There was some strange taste lingering in my mouth that had been making my dick hard all day. My roommate was certainly in a suspiciously good mood this morning too and made some strange comments about me ‘being hungry for more’.

“About what bro? That Yuan can kiss my ass. Huhuh. Come on, stop checking out each others dicks and let’s go!”

“Uh see, he thinks you’re now ready to be our…” I’d never seen him so unsure of himself before, I roll my eyes at him and slam my locker closed.

“Y’all acting like a bunch of girls.” I swear if Yuan is back to spewing his gay bullshit again…

“Go on. Say it.” One of the others insists, nudging Xavier’s shoulder.

Xavier hesitates and then looks away from me, his cheeks flushing red. “There’s uh, there’s something wrong with my…butt…so could you?” The others fail to stifle a laugh.

I do a double take as Xavier turns and points his toned ass at me, his jockstrap framing it like a wrapped gift. “What the fuck? Bruh what are you doing? Put that shit away.”

“Be a good Meathead.”

I see a flash of my roommates butt cross my minds eye. Uhhh. My cock throbs at the image. Before I know it my legs are kneeling behind my friend, what am I doing? My body certainly seems to be one step ahead, my hands grab at his muscled legs for support. “What the actual fuck. Guys…” I’ve never felt so embarrassed, how am I ever gonna live this down?

A hand pulls on the strap hugging Xaviers left buttock and lets go, letting it snap back into place, a slight jiggle vibrates over his firm rear. Was it my hand? I couldn’t even tell.

“Holy shit. I can’t believe those tapes actually worked. He’s come a long way since he was that scrawny nerd, thinking he was above everyone. Now he’s dumber than all of us. We just need Yuan to join us next. Damn someone make sure to record this” It was hard to take in what they were saying, my mind was fixated…elsewhere. One of them leans down to my side and points their phone camera at my zoned out face. “Dude, we stink…I’m next after you.” Someone pats my back as another hand holds my shoulder in place. “Nothing more manly than licking the salty sweat off a bro’s butt.”

No….

Xavier bends forward, his pert dark cheeks pulling apart - sweat glistening on their surface. And then I see it. What my body craved. His hole. Everything falls into place, my mouth watering at the sight, my eyes entranced. I could no longer deny what I wanted, deny the inevitability of what I was about to do. The depravity would be immortalised on camera too, my dumb face shoved in a mans ass. Oh fuck.

The perfect black void nestled between his tight buttocks seems to suck away my shame as I lick my lips. “So manly.” I repeat to the crowd that had gathered around me. Mmm. Rimming a man’s ass was almost as good as fucking it. I wanted a taste of all the guys, their shiny sweaty bodies, their musk. It was my place in the group, I was their meathead after all. My cock was already throbbing at the thought. Maybe Yuan was onto something with this whole ‘gay’ thing. Yeah, let’s try going full homo. Huhuhuh. Anything for the bros, bro.

Looking down at me confidently, Xavier grips the back of my head.

“Clean my hole bruh.”

_____________________________

A few days later I check in on Yuan to see his progress after a few nights obliviously listening to his ‘jocking’ tapes. Dude, I’m going to enjoy watching him slowly bulk up and dumb down. He’s sat up in bed casually tugging at his cock, mouth agape. The heavy thumping bass of trap music is blaring from his speakers. His room is a complete mess.

“How’s it hanging lil bro?”

“Just…mm—wanking.”

“Can see, Meathead. Hung and dumb, nice. I think you’re about ready to join us at the gym.”

“Hmm. Roomie, I—I need your help with something. It’s my big dick…”

“Huhuhu, there’s something wrong with it, let me be a bro and give you a hand with that stick.” I climb over him and wrap my lips around his cock.

“Thuck…ahem. Fuck yeah brooo!”

[freyito]

hiii first of all i just love your drabbles 🫶🫶🫶 Can i request mk1 characters reactions when their partner is hurt? yk when they found out that their s/o is in the hospital or sth. You can write for whoever you want but I would love if you include Raiden, Johnny Cage, Kenshi and Syzoth in this ❤️❤️

✭ pairing(s): liu kang, bi-han [sub zero], kuai liang [scorpion], johnny cage, kenshi takahashi, kung lao, raiden, zeffeero [rain], tomas vrbada [smoke], baraka, syztoh [reptile], havik, general shao, shang tsung, reiko (seperate) x gn reader

✧ a/n: thank u smmmmmm anon!!! i hope this doesnt sound egotistical or anything, but i really cant get enough of people telling me they love my writing, it's really affirming and i will always appreciate it ! it's always like... woah.... really......

this is the perfect request, but i am gonna put my own little spin on this and make it pretty angsty, whoops :P super sorry this one took so long too.... ough i put my heart and soul into it. i hope i am not only tumblr user freyito to you, but an angst writer too... well most of these are angst. some are a little more fluffy and less dire... also just could not for the life of me figure out what to write for geras' so no geras in this one :(

🗒 cw: gn reader, certain character's deaths, gore/blood, depiction of death, angst, in some you are close to death, stitching without painkillers in havik's, kidnapping in shang tsung's/mention of kidnapping in rain's, not proofread

✎ wc: 6.3k

ᴛʜᴇ ᴋᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ ʙᴏʏꜱ + ᴀ ʜᴜʀᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

⎯Liu Kang

Not much evokes emotion in him. He is a god, he must been even with his feelings, and any shift in the balance could set so many things wrong. On the battlefield, there is no room for failure. With you, he's always been relatively neutral, he makes sure you know he loves you, and he's gentle with you. Yet, he keeps a distance. Liu Kang harbors a fear deep down, that his actions, his status, will bring you to your end. He's a sought out target, after all.

So, when those fears come true, Liu Kang can't help but feel his rage consume him. To watch Shang Tsung's claws dig deep into you, festering, plaguing your own strength. Ripping into you, decorating his hands in your warm blood. Shang Tsung had done this because of Liu Kang, he was so sure. Flames engulfed him, near incinerating the foot soldier he had been fighting. He approaches Shang Tsung, as you lay at his feet, struggling to breathe. Unforgivable. To do this to his starlight, Liu Kang will not make this mans death slow and savory, no. Within an instant, he pushes Shang Tsung's head through his own body, splitting the man in half, as well. Death is too merciful, but alas, that is not important, now.

Once the initial wave of anger washes off, adrenaline and logic set in. Liu Kang picks you up, he treats you as if you're porcelain. Just barely, as you struggle to stay conscious, you can hear him assuring you it's okay. That nothing else will happen. It is unclear whether he is saying this to you, or himself. Regardless, he leaves the battlefield quickly. He knows his comrades can handle the rest. But knowing that he is so close to losing you, as you bleed out within his arms, it is haunting. Every second counts, and he knows it. He entrusts your care to the medics at the Wu Shi academy, as much as he trusts them, he cannot bring himself to leave your side. For hours, he is still covered in your blood. His eyes do not leave your face, resting and peaceful, even with death knocking on your door.

Liu Kang is there every step of the way. When you are in recovery, he makes sure to attend every session. He brings you books, something to keep you occupied on the days where you are stuck in bed. Regrettably, he can't enjoy a lot of alone time with you, because duty calls. He'd love nothing more than to spend every waking moment with you, but he still has stuff to attend to. However, when you are cleared to leave the academy, he keeps you close. Liu Kang is afraid it will happen, the image of you bloodied and ripped up still fresh in his mind. He's only a little protective, the thought of you going back into Kombat a little rattling. But he does not stop you. Because it makes him feel better knowing that you are back on your feet.

⎯ Bi-Han

As the grandmaster's partner, Bi-Han knows that you could be caught in danger. But he does not lament this. He does not celebrate it, either. He admires that you can fight, and he loves fighting by your side. He always looks out for you, of course he does. But he cannot be by your side in a large fight, he knows you can hold your own.

It is a sharp cry that draws his attention towards you. That is all he needs. Bi-Han prides himself on being an even and logical man, but the minute he sees A Tengu assassin's knife dug deep into your ribs, he snaps. Within an instant the battlefield grows colder, and the second you blink, the assassin already has his spine ripped out and shattered. A little bit of a flashy display for a man like him, but he wastes no time in bathing in the glory of his kill. He was lucky enough that the fight was nearing an end, the last of the Tengu clan that was sent out were either retreating or being taken care of.

Off you go to the medics of the Lin Kuei, and he insists you are priority. The one thing Bi-Han was unfair with was you, near fighting with the medics to tend to your wounds. Your blood paints his hands and upper torso, and he refuses to wash it off. Not until he knows that you have priority. When the medics relent, he finally disappears to wash off. He cannot stay by your side as much as he'd like, but he's not only restricted by his title, but his emotions. He takes a couple minutes outside, to calm down his own nerves. Bi-Han does not cry, but a few shaky breaths escape him as he tries to calm himself down. His mind races with every possible outcome, ultimately landing on the worst.

But, Bi-Han's thoughts do not come to fruition. The medics have worked their magic, and you are on the path to recovery. As much as he'd love to be with you, he cannot. But, he does send you a bunch of gifts. Letters, mainly. Small incentives for you to recover quickly, but he sends in flowers frequently, as well. The days he does visit you, he is a softer man. He's especially gentle with you around your ribs. He keeps a very close eye on you during missions once you are out of recovery. He doesn't mean to seem overbearing, but his position alone paints a big ol' target on your head. This attack was the first that brought that to his attention.

⎯ Kuai Liang

Fighting alongside a pyromancer is tricky, to say the least. There's a lot of variables to account for, and aside from that, Kuai Liang can't really keep an eye on you in certain instances. This was one of them, a rather messy battle, one where he couldn't keep track of you. Not that it mattered, he knew you were strong enough to hold your own.

However, it is a stray spark that leads you to stumble back. You flinch, which drives you back into the sword of the enemy.  When Kuai sees this… the world goes silent. Water stills, flame fizzle out, swords clash and the dull clang of steel against steel quiets. Only for the water to suddenly form a raging tide, the flames to burn brighter, and the steel fades against the sound of a brilliant flame. In your fading vision, you see your partner's kusarigama impale your attacker's jaw, and pull it clean off. It is a sight he will regret later.

When the battle is over and the medics have taken you away, all Kuai Liang finds himself doing is worry. Pacing constantly, he messes up the mission report and has to have Tomas or someone else from the Shirai Ryu. He can recount things normally without a hitch, but knowing that it was him and his own ‘reckless’ use of his pyromancy with you in such close proximity makes him trip over his words, and even his thoughts. With what little free time he has, he’s pacing outside your cot, frequently checking in on the medics and the progress, until they ultimately have to push him away. Which calms him down, somewhat.

When the medics assure him that everything is fine, and that you are on the path to recovery, he’s much more relieved. He’s a lot less tense, and he’s a lot more coherent. He’s able to compose himself. Granted, he tends to sneak off (when appropriate) to check on you. He really just loves talking with you afterwards, he doesn’t want to bring up any unpleasant memories or thoughts (particularly what you saw before you blacked out), but there will always be a point where you have to talk about it. He’ll also ramp up his affection. The entire ordeal (while he knew what would come with forming the Shirai Ryu) made him realize that maybe he takes you for granted. Kuai Liang has been surrounded by death, sure, but for some reason, when it comes to those he loves… it is hard to understand that life is fleeting.

⎯ Johnny Cage

Johnny is used to deaths and his partner being hurt… on screen. He’s so used to the dramatized version, where his stage partner dies in his arms, and he wails real loud. He’s blissfully unaware that it could, in fact, happen to you in real life. He likes to think of himself as a great source of protection, believes no harm will come your way, not when you’ve got just a big, strong, handsome hunk around. And one of Earthrealm’s Defenders. As much as he’s grown, he still needs to learn a few lessons from the world.

And he’s in for a reality check. There are some unsavory characters out there, ones that aren’t too happy about his status as a whole. All he gets is a call from the hospital and a nice little greeting from officers. The only things he can make out in his newfound panic is ‘attempted murder’, and he’s REELING. He wasn’t there, he reminds himself. He doesn’t know what went down. Officers are still trying to figure it out. In his hazy and reckless state, he goes to his best friend.

Kenshi helps ease his nerves, and gives him a couple of LOGICAL ideas. Considering Shang Tsung had wormed his way into Kenshi’s life to steal Sento (and ultimately got his ass beat), he brings it up. Which leads to a whole meeting with Liu Kang, Raiden, and Kung Lao. To discuss the possible threats, and the future. Johnny cannot sit still that meeting, he’s practically bouncing off the walls, asking what this means for you. Every single question is about you, and you alone. Liu Kang dismisses him, and he practically speeds off to the hospital.

Johnny relaxes when he’s able to finally enter your room,– after a lot of arguing with the doctors about visiting hours– but his mind still spins. How could he let this slide? He should’ve been there, right? Regardless of how much blame he puts on himself, (which it was never his fault to begin with) he’s sat by your bed, sulking. From the police report, it’s clear that it was AT LEAST linked to Shang Tsung, but that’s no longer his problem. He gets you anything from the cafeteria if you ask, and he brings you flowers every. damn. day. He’s got so many gifts coming your way, that when you get discharged, you’re practically smothered by all the gifts he got you as an ‘apology’. When you ask him what he means by an apology, he doesn’t say a single word. Johnny’s very on top of your medication, he’s soooo very delicate with you, he almost condemns you to bedrest. But with enough pushback, you’re able to be up and about; but that doesn’t mean he won’t be worrying over you for quite a while. Even if Liu Kang assures him that it won’t happen again.

⎯ Kenshi Takahashi

Kenshi is aware of the danger that surrounds him and his existence in general. He’s protective of you, of course. And he knows full well that you could be swept up into the mix of the Yakuza, and his work with Liu Kang and the OIA. But, you yourself had fought hard for the relationship and made it clear that you could care less about the potential dangers; even if he felt a little frazzled at all the dangers out there. All the hands that could be grabbing at you, the guns, the knives, the weapons that would be pointed at you the minute you were spotted next to him. You didn’t care.

Yet, when he gets the call that you were involved in some crime, landing you in the hospital, his mind omits all the other details. Aside from the hospital you’re at. He even skips over the fact that it was Jax calling him. Part of him wants to cry. And he probably would, if he could. But he tries to keep himself composed. Whatever he’s been occupied with is now a distant memory, other agents can take over. As calm as he looks on the outside, there’s a war raging within him. He knew this would happen. Ever since he felt feelings for you, he knew.

When he finds you at the hospital, Sento left behind, he’s scared. He doesn’t know if he should be grateful that he can’t see you, or if he should lament over it. While the doctors had described your injuries as non-fatal, and that you’d recover in no time, Kenshi’s mind has already spun a horrifying image, but once the doctors have left, he can hear your soft breathing underneath all the bustle of the machines. And it soothes him. Only then does he find some peace of mind, you are safe, and the danger has passed. Somewhat. When his worry starts to dissipate, he remembers that Jax had actually called him first, not the hospital. When he calls Jax back, the first thing he says is that he’s taking time off, and Jax doesn’t protest. They discuss what happened and that it is now a government matter, and something that expands past OIA boundaries. The short version of the conversation is that someone from a different timeline had managed to worm their way into this one, and harm you. Someone with striking similarity to himself. 

Now that Kenshi has calmed down and knows you’re safe, he understands why the nurses and the law enforcement seemed tense around him. It unnerves him, to say the least. That another version of himself would hurt you. His heart, his guiding light. It’s also an entirely new threat that he hadn’t accounted for. Once discharged from the hospital, you have all of his attention. He’s oh so gentle with you, like any little touch and you’ll crack. He does every chore around the house for weeks, until you’ve fully healed. He cooks a lot (with the help of Sento), even bathes you (despite your protests). It’s his way of an apology for what happened, and not just that, but an apology for being with him. He holds immense regret over this, knowing that– even if it was another him from another timeline– he did this.

⎯ Kung Lao

Kung Lao is… protective, alright. And that often gets swept up within his cockiness. Of course, you do feel pretty safe with him. Maybe not around the hat, but you do feel safe around him. Aside from his interesting choice of weapon, he’s a great martial artist. And also just someone who’s really nice to cuddle with. He’s a Shaolin Master, of course he’s going to be a horrifying opponent.

And, there would be hell to pay if anyone hurt his love. He isn’t just all bark. Even the thought of you being hurt has him seething, he tends to overthink. There’s a lot of things that have made him realize that he may be a high value target– even if he can’t help but think he’s done nothing to get to that point. But, under Liu Kang, and just the title ‘Defender of Earthrealm’, there’s some sort of pride that lingers. Something that makes him want to challenge anyone and everyone he can, tell them to ‘bring it on’.

But not at the expense of you. The one thing bigger than his ego? His heart. So, when you stride into Wu Shi Academy,– though, limp is the better term– all cut up and bruised, barely able to speak or see, there’s a rage that burns within Lao. One that even Raiden hasn’t seen. He can’t help but run his mouth about how he’ll teach whoever the hell got to you a lesson. But he’s also despondent, he barely touches his food, he barely shows up to Madame Bo’s… and that makes her worried, until she learns about what happened to you from Raiden. Now not only does the culprit have a bastard with a really sharp hat after them, but the most badass little old lady after them, too. Madame Bo loves you like one of her own, really. She dotes on you, where she’ll normally scold the boys. You are her golden child.

Ultimately, their shared hunt leads to a dead end. Your mind is too hazy to remember anything aside from a silhouette, before getting beaten senseless. As much as Lao seems hellbent on tracking the culprit down, he ultimately gives up when you ask him. But, as you recover, he seems to be in much better spirits. He likes to curl up next to you at night (despite the monks telling him not to), just to reassure him that you’re safe. And Madame Bo arguably puts on more of a show than Lao does. She treats you with free food every day of your recovery, and when you’ve got clearance to be walking around without supervision again, she’s made a FEAST for you. While it feels all sunshine and rainbows once you’ve recovered, Kung Lao works tirelessly to get better. He blames himself, mainly for the fact that no matter what he did, he couldn’t find the one who did this to you. Even if you tell him outright that it is okay. It’s another mark on his list of failures, to him.

⎯ Raiden

When he got the amulet, Raiden didn’t exactly have it down. It took a great deal of focus and strength to hone it, more than he’s known. Sure, there have been some points where it feels like he’s got it down, like he can actually control the lightning. But before the tournament, he had a hard time controlling it, and spent many days doing his best to hone this new power. It was exhausting, and took a toll on him, both physically and mentally. He might have been trained nearly his whole life in martial arts, but that doesn’t necessarily correlate to any sort of magic.

However, it is his connections that ground him. Kung Lao, yes. But you, mainly. Normally, his training sessions with the amulet consist of him trying not to fry Lao, while you sit by and encourage him. A positive environment encourages progress, right? That’s what Raiden thinks, anyway. And all things considered, he’s doing well today. The lightning had been easily tamed, Lao hadn’t been zapped, and all was well.

While training with a staff, however, one wrong move sends a strike horrifyingly close to you. You barely register what happened, the loud bang by your right is followed by a popping feeling, like you’ve been in high altitude, a sharp pain through your eardrum, and then a dull ringing in your right ear. Raiden comes running up to you near immediately, checking over you. Your mind spins at how fast things happened, so you can’t necessarily explain clearly to him what you felt. Before you can collect yourself, Raiden is suddenly set on high-alert, and hauling you away to the medics at Wu Shi. Even Lao is a little confused as he follows after the two of you.

At the medics, you’re able to piece everything together. Ruptured eardrum, and Raiden can’t help but blame himself for it. When you’re getting checked over, Raiden is pacing outside, and Lao is trying desperately to calm him down. It had been a fear of his since the very start of his training. But as time went on and you went unharmed… it started to slip into the back of his mind. He feels horrible for letting go of that worry, for letting it happen. And when the medics let you go and tell you that it’ll heal in a couple weeks, you do your best to comfort him next to Lao. When it’s just you two, however, Raiden is a lot more calm. The adrenaline of the moment got to him earlier. Still, all he feels he can do is apologize, as much as you assure him it’s fine. Over the next couple of weeks, he’s very, very mindful of himself. He’s practically banned you from his training sessions, he makes sure to approach you from your left side or make his presence known if he’s coming up from behind you.

⎯ Zeffeero

There’s not much Rain has to worry about in his day-to-day life, even with his status as High Mage. He knows his title holds weight, but he believes that if he spends all his time worrying, something will happen sooner or later, and he’ll be more of a mess if it comes true. He’s more worried about his actual duties, coming home to you (almost) every night, and what books he will read on his days off.

That being said, he isn’t able to spend all his time with you. Which is a bummer, really. His job isn’t necessarily ‘remote’. He doesn’t worry over you too much, he knows you’re strong enough to cover for yourself. And those who are against him and the royalty should be smarter and focus their attention towards him and Sindel. Keyword, should.

So, when Zeffeero is met by the couriers during his duties, he’s confused. The only words he can make out in their frantic speech is your name, and hostage. Which snaps him out of his normally calm demeanor. But, regardless, he does his best to stay collected. He gets the couriers to explain the situation clearly, that Sindel’s detractors had chosen you out of all people to make an example. The good news is that it was dealt with just as quickly as you had been taken away, criminals don’t really get their way so easily in Sun Do, especially.

But that doesn’t mean they didn’t do a number on you. Rain immediately puts his work to the side and meets you at the infirmary. You’re pretty beat up, a couple bruises on your arms and a gash on your forehead, and the medics inform him that you’ll need to stay here for at least another week, you’ve gotten a couple of bruised ribs, as well. For the next couple of days, he is by your bedside, perfectly on time when the medics open up visiting hours. He’ll even do his work by your side, filling countless journals and going through way too many reports as he does.

⎯ Tomas Vrbada

Stealth missions require the utmost focus, especially ones of this caliber. Tomas is confident in your ability, so he doesn’t worry unnecessarily over you. But his mind can tend to wander sometimes. Still, he does his best to remain on track, stalking through the rampart. It was a simple recon mission, keep an eye on the territory. It had been left abandoned after the events of Armageddon, but there had been indications that Bi-Han was looking to start something there again. Considering the cyberization of the Lin Kuei, Kuai Liang and Tomas agreed to simply check it out, make sure nothing was being done.

And they were right to be suspicious. Either out of paranoia, or a hunch, Bi-Han had sent scouts as well. This makes the operation a lot more high-risk, both parties may be aware of each other, but have no idea where the other is. It looks as if there’s a rather hefty amount of spies in the rampart as well. As Tomas stalks through the tops of the wall, searching for anything slightly out of place, he gets the sudden feeling that he’s being watched.

Just as he raises his head, he hears the thwip of a bow string, causing him to jerk away from his position. An arrow flies past his head, a few centimeters from it, and as he follows it’s trajectory, he sees you, across the rampart. Fighting with two ninjas, doing your best to, well, stay alive. Realizing that you two are horribly outnumbered, he completely ignores the archer behind him. Utilizing his practical magic, he wastes no time disappearing and taking off. It’s not as easy as it sounds, practically throwing himself off the wall and doing what he can to make it across the rampart. As adrenaline rushes through him, his actions are near mindless, reckless, jumping over stray ballistas and rubble.  Does he know that this could put his life at risk? That it puts the mission at risk? Yes. But there’s a tiny voice inside of him that screams at him, tells him you are much more important than the mission. He got the intel anyways.

Things blur together for Tomas after that. He can’t remember exactly how he reached you, he can’t remember what he did with the two ninjas, the only thing that brings him back to the present moment is the pained breaths of yours and heaved gasps. He’d been singing some lullaby that he couldn’t remember the name of, his voice cracking here and there. His throat is raw, blood pouring from a head wound, and he can’t tell if the blood coating his arms is from you, who lay motionless (but thankfully breathing) in his arms, the ninjas, or his own. He’s barely noticed that he’s made his way to Harumi’s house. Not to Kuai Liang– to Harumi. Which, eventually, the knowledge that you’ve been hurt and that the Lin Kuei are pushing to claim territory over the Rampart. When Harumi guides the two of you to a room while she calls for the medics, all Tomas can do is blame himself. He’s spaced out the entire time, the only thing that snaps him out of his catatonic state is when they try to separate the two of you. He doesn’t let them. He doesn’t let anyone separate you from him. He’s too scared that he will lose you.

⎯ Baraka

While the restrictions on those inflicted with Tarkat have been lifted slightly, there is still some public animosity towards Tarkattens. And some of those people tend to direct their anger at those who support this decision, or those close to those afflicted with Tarkat. And unfortunately, you just so happen to be one of those people.

You aren’t entirely vocal about your relationship with Baraka, but you aren’t entirely quiet about it, either. The only reason Baraka doesn’t talk about you two is because he is afraid of what could happen to you. It doesn’t matter if the public’s opinion will turn, if there will ever be a cure, he has always been distant. He loves you, and good god, he’d do anything to even hold your hand. But he is afraid. He can’t help but be afraid of what will happen to you.

And rightfully so, when you are visiting Sun Do with Baraka. It’s a routine visit, to talk about how to integrate precautions for those with Tarkat, and how the vaccine progress is coming along. It feels like hours in a stuffy room, talking with Mileena. Eventually, you step out for a moment, to get some fresh air, and to clear your head. Unfortunately, one of the people against the aid for Tarkattens takes this as an opportunity to attack you in broad daylight.

Luckily, you don’t have to suffer much. A couple of kicks and hits that have left a couple of bruises, but the Constabulary was able to pull them off you quickly. The commotion brings Mileena and Baraka out, which leaves you feeling a little flustered. Needless to say, the talks for that day are cut short, and Baraka spends his time worrying about you. He asks you to stay in Sun Do for a while, that he can handle the talks himself now.

⎯ Syzoth

Syzoth’s biggest fear is Shang Tsung. Even after all is said and done, the fear still lingers. With his past, he can’t help but worry, especially about you. He wants to imagine a future with you, and he’s more than content with the days you two spend together, but he will never be able to shake the idea of his happiness being ripped from him again. While he is still all cuddly with you, there is something always gnawing at him. An eternal dread.

And his fears come true, in some way. He had to leave home for a couple of days, out on official business. It was nothing major, nothing that would pull him from you for longer than a week. Integrating yourself along with Zatterans was a challenge alright, something you didn’t mind facing. Syzoth had said it was a good way to get them used to humans, to earthrealmers.

However, when he comes back home, he is greeted by you, with a black eye, and multiple, bandaged, gashes down your arms. You smile at him warmly, despite your injuries, which have had at least two days to heal. He’s stunned, and after a moment of silence, he’s all over you, asking question after question. Despite what he asks, he knows what the Zatterans have done to you.

He tells himself he should’ve known, as they had killed those with his mutation, he should’ve known that they would’ve treated you the same. You can’t give him exact details, you can’t even give him a description. It happened all too fast, and you were helpless in the moment. He spends the next week by your side, never leaving, unless it was for food, or necessities. When you two are out, he’s very diligent about his surroundings, and those around them. Most of the Zaterrans express their apologies to you, even if it wasn’t them, which makes Syzoth even more wary about who he should be keeping an eye on.  

⎯ Havik

Danger comes with the territory of dating Havik. Yeah, he keeps you close, but he’s wanted. And he’s well aware, he tends to get himself in fights quite often. If you wanna participate? Hells yeah, he’s all in. But if you’d rather sit back, hide away, anything like that, he doesn’t mind. Even if he prefers a more active partner on the battlefield. Just because he’s got his anarchic ways and enjoys a little bloodbath every now and then, doesn’t mean he’s thrown care and (at least) sympathy into the wind. Granted, it’s hard to coax that reaction out of him.

But, it’s different with you. His heart; quite literally. He’d do anything for you, he’s (almost) as obedient as a dog. But when he gets to watch you in kombat… it’s a treat. He’s like actually drooling. He’s got a twisted sort of smile on his face when you slash through enemies. Sometimes just the thought of it makes him blush. He’s a little fucked up, actually! But for a being who thrives on chaos, that’s the norm.

When it comes to you being injured, if it’s just a little nick, (which is categorized very loosely; can be deep cuts, slashes, not just a scrape) he doesn’t find any reason to retaliate against your assailant. Havik is proud to have a lover that can take care of things themselves, but that doesn’t mean he won’t leap at the chance to tear someone limb from limb. Especially if you’re wounded near fatally. That’s when any semblance of humanity leaves him. He’s brutal, horribly so, and for once, you have to turn your head away.

When the fight’s done, Havik returns to you, covered in blood and viscera. He made it quick, as much as he would’ve enjoyed making it slow and painful, he knows that time is of the essence. Given his situation, he can’t really take you anywhere. So a little impromptu ‘healing’ session is underway. Some alcohol (that’s 100% not stolen) and some pressure to make sure the bleeding stops and that you don’t get an infection. After, he’s got to stitch up the wound. As he does so, he’s murmuring praises,– a rare thing from him, really– doing his best to make this as painless as possible.

⎯ General Shao

There is no greater place than the battlefield to Shao. It is something he grew up on, and to be fighting side by side with his beloved, it fills him with pride. Of course, he knows the dangers, he knows there’s a target on his back, but he could care less. He almost revels in it. Yes, he’ll worry about you, but he also knows that you can handle yourself.

But that doesn’t mean he isn’t above teaching those who choose to hurt you a lesson. He’s sensible, he’s strong, and he’s just a little, teensy weensy bit protective of you. Of course, you can handle fights on your own. But it’s when the enemies got you in a tough spot, managed to daze you, anything like that. That’s when Shao lets hell break loose.

A sword pierces through your arm, and while it’s not fatal, the minute Shao sees it, he’s raging. A bloody warpath follows him as he marches towards the assailant, the opponent he had been fighting long forgotten. He can’t gloss over an injury like that, he is unsure if they had cut through the brachial artery. So he makes it quick, practically splitting them in two as you watch. The battle continues to rage on, but all Shao can do is huff and encourage you to make an escape,– mainly because he’s afraid you might bleed to death– even if you don’t want to.

At the end of it all, you oblige, retreating and making it to the field medics. You are glad to hear that they did not cut through your brachial artery, and that you won’t bleed to death. But the gash in your arm still needs treatment. You’re stuck in that tent for quite a bit, mourning the loss of a good fight. That is, until Shao interrupts. He’s barely pulled back the tarp of the entrance, and he’s already looking for you. And when he spots you, lying down with a defeated look, bored as hell, he’s at your side within an instant. He needs to know the damage, if it’ll take you out of combat, etc etc. He quietly worries over you, which is quite charming in its own way.

⎯ Shang Tsung

Shang Tsung is no pushover. He may be despised, he may have been outcast, but that doesn’t mean he’ll stand there and take it. Especially when it comes to you. He’s a bit of a drama queen, sure, but he’s charming. Even after everything, it seems like people won’t forgive him. They aren’t wrong to leave him unforgiven, either.

But, their anger should be pointed towards him. So when he receives a letter for ransom via courier, he’s rightfully pissed. How dare they take his sunshine away from him, all because of what he’s done. What he’s done. And to try and rip him off, as well. You aren’t worth a mere 50,000 koins! You’re worth at least 5mil! Needless to say, he’s fuming.

What’s he going to do? Ask the Constabulary to help? No! He’s more than capable of handling it himself. A little dirt on his hands never hurt anybody. Time is short, so he rushes over the details. A couple sleepless nights spent scouting, collecting any sort of information, and he’s off to a shabby little shack in the wastes. The audacity of these people to not only take you from him, demand 50k koins, but also keep you in some run-down place! As much as he’s nitpicking what they’ve done to you, he’s doing it to calm himself down. Yeah, he’s got this in the bag, but any one taking his love from him, especially with malicious intent, makes him scarier than his most evil counterparts.

It is there where Shang Tsung finds out the kidnappers haven’t necessarily… prepared. Only two captors, and they’re dealt with easily. Torn into like meat, left to rot. He disregards their state, food for the vultures and whichever desperate soul wanders past. You’re a mess, head down, mind hazy, legs weak. He treats you like a knight saving his darling, picking you up bridal style. He coos at you, whispering things like ‘you’re alright’, and ‘I’m here now’ as he takes you away.

⎯ Reiko

It’s a calm evening, paired with a little sparring. As Reiko watches you train an over-ambitious rookie, he seems lost in thought. Why? It’s unsure. It feels like he’s simply lost his grip lately, he feels that he hasn’t been doing well in combat, and has actually regressed with his progress. Seeing you humble the soldier over and over again somehow reminds him of this, telling himself he needs to catch up on his training, build on his weaknesses.

It’s a subtle snap that brings him back to reality. It seems the trainee had enough of your teaching, and didn’t quite enjoy the lessons you were drilling– punching– into them. They’ve managed to pin you down, thanks to a very direct, very heated punch to the face. They’ve got you in a headlock, spouting nonsense at you like you’ve greatly offended them. You groan, so close to yelling out uncle. But, you’ve gotta admit, you like their fire. Even if it severely clouds their judgment.

Reiko is quick to pull them off of you, grabbing them by the nape as if they were a dog. It’s a little bit of a struggle, mainly the trainee squirming and protesting like a child who’s been denied candy. It’s shameful for him, but the very thought of the runt taking advantage of the moment to hurt you makes him believe they are unbefitting of a soldier. And it makes him a little pissed. He’s lecturing them, doing his best to hold back some very choice words. All the while you’re nursing your possibly broken nose, trying to get Reiko to let up on them. Eventually, you just shoo them away, and then give Reiko his own lecture. They’re your student, so they’ll get your discipline.

He’s not the best at consoling you, especially over something that he’s deemed ‘minor’. A quick ‘are you okay?’ and a nod is all he really gives you. But, after you’ve ended the training session early, and confirmed that your nose isn’t broken, Reiko picks up the opportunity to hone in his skills. Given the fact that you still had time left in your schedule, you take up his offer.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices

DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[tracybirds]

Started this a wee while ago because @astranite and I were excitedly discussing astronomy textbooks and in particular BOB which is a real astronomy textbook for the undergraduate level, written by Carroll and Ostie as mentioned in the fic. We started joking about Lucille being an academic and writing the second BOB and then well... this happened :P

Many thanks both to @astranite and @gumnut-logic who have both read bits of this at some point - I hope you enjoy the finished fic!

---

"Imagine a world with no stars."

John reached down, brushing his fingers across the familiar preface, the uncomfortable weight of his mother's textbook feeling like home.

"Hi Mom," he whispered, his heart aching as he turned the pages.

Her orange highlighter was everywhere, notes in her clear, rounded hand scattered across every paragraph as month by month, year by year, she read yet another paper that strengthened the collective understanding of the universe. He knew that some of these notes made it into the second, third, and even fourth editions of BOBv2, but others lay dormant, waiting for a fifth edition that would never come.

Until now.

John took a steadying breath. He hadn’t dared to touch his mom’s personal copy of the astrophysics textbook that had redefined a generation in years. The Tracy text, with its dry wit and clear conceptual language, voiced with an undeniable love for the heavens above, similarly ignited a passion in everyone who read it. John was too young to know exactly when BOBv2 – the Big Orange Book – had become the standard text, but in doing so, Lucille Tracy had cemented her name as one of the great educationalists of modern astronomy. A companion to the original Carroll & Ostie, a text that delved with enthusiasm into every branch of space science, his mom had inspired a generation of astronomers.

His mom had inspired him.

And, as it turned out, there were people who wanted to see that legacy continued.

John scanned the email that had arrived without fanfare in his inbox that morning, though he already knew every word.

“Dear Mr. Tracy…” it began, and John knew they hadn’t meant him. Scott had forwarded the email himself, not reading beyond the subject line that mentioned only the title of the astronomy textbook he held in his hands.

This was how John learnt that his mom’s old publishing company were seeking permission to engage a new author to perform the necessary revisions for a new edition. John had never thought of Scott as being the executor of their parents’ estate, had never given much thought to any of the legalities of what their parents had created.

He glanced up as TB5 rounded the dark side of the Earth, the familiar patch of ocean his family called home slowly moving towards sunset.

His brother had gotten home less than an hour ago and it was for this reason, John told himself, that he hadn’t drawn attention to Scott’s error.

In truth, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say.

Well.

That wasn’t quite true.

John’s grip tightened around the book as he steadied himself once more.

This text had belonged to everyone, that’s how his mom had wanted it, and that’s what John would want too.

He connected to Scott’s line.

With each ring, his heart sank further and further.

“Hey John, wha–”

“Don’t do it,” blurted John.

Scott’s blue face scrunched up as he peered at him through the holo. “Don’t do what?” he asked.

“Mom’s book, let me instead,” said John, his words beginning to stumble across themselves in his hurry to make Scott understand. “I can do it, just don’t let someone else take it away from her.”

“Woah, woah,” said Scott, looking more alarmed with every second. “Nobody’s going to take Mom away from you, what are you talking about.”

“They want to revise BOB,” said John desperately.

Scott’s silence rang between them, a pause that filled the distance between them before John huffed and thrust the book into the holocam.

“BOB,” he said impatiently, “Mom’s textbook, the Big Orange Book the Second.”

“Can you.. can you start from the beginning, John,” said Scott weakly.

John’s fingers twitched, struggling to steady his shaky inhalations.

“Mom’s publishing company sent you an email. You sent it to me so I read it, but it was for you.”

With every word, John willed Scott to hear him, to understand what he was asking. It wasn’t the revision that was troubling him, John had worked alongside academics too long to question the need for an updated edition as new evidence emerged and new lines of reasoning developed into discoveries.

“It’s the only link to her that’s just mine,” he said quietly. “I have to share everything else, and maybe that’s selfish of me to ask, Scott, but I want this one. I don’t want someone to overwrite her words, her passion, her memory with a fake. Someone who’s just pretending they could ever know what she would have said.”

“I can say no,” suggested Scott, but every fibre of John’s being rebelled at the thought.

What was worse, he wondered, to remain true to her memory and thus condemn his mother’s greatest achievement to history? Or to give up his claim to her and allow her work to shine anew, albeit polished with a varnish he’d never known.

Obscurity or lies?

John knew which he’d choose.

It felt like burying her all over.

“John,” said Scott hesitantly. “Would you want to do it?”

John’s eyes widened. At once a thousand reasons to say no erupted, his mind running through emergency scenarios and the intensive workload that revising a beast like BOBv2 would take, not to mention remembering the half a dozen other projects he’d made promises to look at when he got a chance.

There was no chance he would ever be able to agree to what Scott was suggesting.

There was no chance he’d ever say no.

“How?” he asked breathlessly.

“We’d make it work for you, John, you know we would,” said Scott. “We’d do it for Mom, but we’d also do it for you.”

John’s smile was wobbly, and he rapidly blinked back the tears that welled in his eyes as warmth flooded and swelled in his chest.

“Then let’s do it,” he said hoarsely.

***

“John!” shouted Alan, racing up the stairs two at a time. “You’ve got a package, Grandma picked it up on the mainland, it’s here – it’s here!”

John leapt up from the sofa, his quiet conversation with Brains and Virgil forgotten in a heartbeat as he reached out with eager hands.

“Scott, Gordon!” bellowed Alan, running outside and leaning over the balcony’s edge. “Hurry up, John’s book is here.”

There was a mad scramble, water splashing all over, but John hardly heard it, his hands turning the brown paper over and over. He could feel the bio-bubble packing material, its gentle give beneath his fingers making him doubt the reality of what he was about to find.

Alan slammed into his side, legs bouncing with excitement. John could see the amused glances traded between Virgil and Gordon out of the corner of his eye, but he ignored them, suddenly terrified that he’d ruined his Mom’s book forever.

“We all know you gave it everything,” said Scott, dripping water all across the floor as he gripped John’s shoulder with firm encouragement. “She’d be proud too. Let’s see it.”

The spine was orange, the dusky colour of sunsets as the night gave way to twilight and the field of astronomy arose. Tracy & Tracy stood out, stark white and magical. Each leaf was glossy and vibrant, full of excitement and wonder.

He glanced down at Alan, whose eyes were wide in awe, and smiled, opening the book to the dedication page.

To Jeff, who travelled my stars and inspired my heart. – L.T. 1st edition To Scott, John, and Virgil, who helped me to dream. – L.T. 2nd edition To Gordon, who gave me new adventures. – L.T. 3rd edition To Alan, for all the skies we’ve seen together  – J.T. 5th edition

John wrapped an arm around Alan, who had gone still as he read.

“It was time you were added to the Tracy text,” he said quietly.

Alan only hugged him back.

“It looks incredible, John,” said Virgil. “It’s all paid off.”

One by one, everyone gave their congratulations and wandered off, the novelty soon wearing thin. Even Alan slipped away, his video games beginning to call, but not before making John promise to get him his own copy.

Eventually, only Scott remained and he fell down on the sofa next to John, watching him quietly as he flipped through the pages one by one.

Soon enough John paused, running his fingers over the familiar foreword, every letter of Lucille’s passion immortalised once again. His foreword came second in deference to the original and, sandwiched between his mother’s words and the contents page, John had allowed himself more sentiment than he usually considered wise in a public sphere, comfortable in the knowledge that only the few who were truly inspired by what he and his mom had made would ever read them.

“She would be proud,” he said with certainty. “Of this, of what we’ve done without her.”

“She would,” Scott agreed. “They both would.”

John nodded, and closed the text, laying it carefully on the coffee table.

His green eyes shimmered earnestly, a mirror of their mother.

“Thank you, Scott,” he said. “For giving me this.”

“It’s yours, John,” said Scott. “Always.”

[serene-destruction]

Oh! Listen I love Husk and I need him to have more love! Maybe a Fem!Reader x Husk x Angel. Angel Dust and Reader would be a qpr quite obviously, just besties who want to give love to a grumpy cat. Other than that I give you creative freedom!

The first request! Just for future reference, my stories are gender neutral unless otherwise plot relevant. Anyways, enjoy!

I Could Get Used To You

(GN) Reader x Husker x (Queer Platonic)Angel Dust

TW: drunkenness, vague mentions of past trauma.

Work count: 5.6k

Summary: Life in hell isn't an easy one, but it's a lot easier to get through it when you find people to care about.

You and Angel had known of each other for quite some time, given that he had often attended the bar you worked at in his early years in hell. Despite how aggressively flirtatious he was you didn't mind him as much as some of the other regulars. He at least had the restraint to make those comments in between sets or after the show. You spent the first few months mostly ignoring him, as you did with all the other patrons. That became harder, though, when he had decided to see you after the show.

“Heya sweetheart!” he called out to you as you left the bar. You rolled your eyes and held your coat a little tighter, hoping that hiding your body might get him to leave you the hell alone. You had a rough night filled with drunken idiots disrupting your show with their shameless attempts to touch you and you certainly didn't need his comments to top it all off.

“Say what you want then leave me the hell alone” you nearly growled out your words. It was hard to stay composed after having spent hours keeping that fake smile for the crowd.

“Woah! Got it, bad night” he held his hands up in a show of surrender.

“Just wanna talk” he explained, his smile a little less cocky than when he made his usual comments at the bar. Truthfully it had caught you a little off guard, considering how you had ascribed total arrogant confidence to him. So you let out a sigh, motioning him to walk with you. You just simply didn't feel like arguing and you were pretty confident that he was mostly talk. Something you could easily placate until you made it back home.

“Just to be clear, if you lay a single one of those hands on me I'm cutting all of them off” you warn and he flashes a bright, teasing smile.

“Kinky~” his voice was sing-songy as he spoke. You crossed your arms, glared, and hoped he got the point.

“Right, right. I won't touch ya” he agreed and you were able to grow a little more comfortable. Still, you remained on guard.

“Names Angel by the way” he sounded so sure of himself as he spoke, a set of hands held on his hips in a show of confidence. He had only just started his career back then, his fame in its early stages. It wasn't a surprise when you didn't recognize it.

“Y/n. Though I'm sure you already knew that” your words held an edge, your tense posture clear. But he simply nodded along.

“Yeah. Still a nice name though” his smile widened a little and, despite the minor disdain you had started with, you could see him already growing on you.

“Right…any particular reason you decided to talk to me tonight of all nights? I've seen you around the bar for a while now” you questioned him, rather curious about why exactly now of all times he wanted to suddenly meet you.

“I just wanted to let ya know you did good tonight. I get how much of a bummer pricks messin’ with your show can be.” the genuine compliment surprised you so much that you're silent for a moment. A moment too long apparently as he speaks again.

“If it means anything it was one’a my favorites so far” At that you turned and searched for some sort of humor in his eyes, maybe something that said he was lying. But when there wasn't anything you finally returned his smile with a weary one.

“Glad you enjoyed it” you took the compliment, though you still didn’t fully believe that he was being truthful. It was rare someone ever complimented you to start with, but you had yet to have someone do so without an ulterior motive.

“And y’know, that happens again tomorrow and I'll personally knock ‘em around for you, yeah?” his smile turned into a grin and you couldn't help the short laugh that left at his expression.

“If you feel so inclined. Though if anyone asks, I told you to leave the poor sods alone” you tried to make it clear that you definitely weren't supposed to be harming the clientele with how dramatic the last part of the sentence was. Luckily he seemed to get the point.

“Course. They've been gettin’ on my nerves anyway” you couldn't help but agree.

The two of you continue on with your conversation, getting to know a bit about each other's lives on the short walk. Despite his behavior at the bar, he was actually surprisingly personable one-on-one. He had a kind of natural charisma with a bit of faint genuine kindness. It was, frankly, one of the better conversations you had since you fell into hell. But all good things always come to an end. This time it was because you stopped your feet outside your residence.

“It was nice getting to actually meet you Angel” he stopped with you and you could have sworn you caught the faintest glimpse of his smile falling.

“It was nice meetin’ you too. You workin’ tomorrow?” His question surprises you a bit, but you answer anyway.

“When am I not working” you rolled your eyes, your exhaustion now easy to see. His look turned sympathetic.

“If that ain't the truth. See you tomorrow then?” He begins to walk away but stays turned to you for a response with his hand held in a finger gun motion. You can't help the bit of genuine smile that peeks through.

“As always” you answer before finally tucking into your apartment building.

You and Angel only got closer over the coming years. He would walk you home from your shows from time to time and you would entertain him with whatever story you had of the nights when he was too busy to show up. You too bonded over work and he even offered to be a dancer a few times just to rake in some more attention and get you enough to finally move up from that shit hole. But you always kindly refused, not looking for the increasing fame he carried with him.

Eventually you two even started hanging out in other places. Granted they were always other run-down shit holes given he didn't particularly want the paparazzi and fans that came from his job, but you two always seemed to make the most of it, keeping your friendship on the down low.

Until, one night, he stopped showing up.

You had become increasingly concerned after a month of him just up and disappearing. You were worried something had happened or maybe that his psychotic boss was pulling away even more of his already limited freedom. But then he showed up after one of your shows, face guilt-ridden when you went near frantic.

You were already yelling out question after question at him. Where has he gone? Was he okay? Did something happen? He had to calm you down before explaining that he had moved. You were so incredibly proud knowing that he was finally removing even just a part of himself from the work that had begun to be his entire life, though you were still a bit upset that he hadn't told you sooner.

But then he made you an offer you weren't expecting.

“You know, the hotel has an open doors rule and uh…well I was hopin’ you might…”

“Join you?” You finish the sentence for him. He turned to you with a look more nervous than you've ever seen from him.

“Look I know the place ain't exactly the best- the whole redemption thing’s a joke- but y'know I think you could get a job down there! Get away from all…all of this. Plus, y’know, I'd get to see you more often and-”

“Sounds like a plan” you stop his rambling with your answer and he turns to you with an almost bewildered look.

“Really? You sure?” He couldn't believe you would agree so quickly. You laughed at that.

“A chance to leave this shitty life behind and live with my best friend? Why would I say no? Especially if you like the place enough to recommend it” You lightheartedly shoved him and he almost gleamed with joy, his prior nervousness nothing but a thought now.

“Well shit. I thought I was gonna have ta try a lot harder than that. Had a whole pitch and everything!” he spoke with a laugh and you couldn't help but join in the joy.

You had to say the first few months at the hotel had been rough. For one, your boss didn't like the idea of you quitting very much. You were half the reason he made any money to begin with and he wasn't about to let you go so easily. So for a while you had been harassed and once nearly even killed before Alastor went and ‘dealt with this little problem of yours’. Though you suspected it was only because your boss had sent people to attack the hotel itself and less that he cared about you in any capacity.

You had managed to get a job at the hotel like Angel had said, though you felt more like a resident since there weren't ever enough people to warrant a show. But it had been more than once you were able to lift spirits with a performance, so you did still get paid. It was nice not having to work as much.

Though you would have to say, out of all the other strange people and events here, the bartender was the one that caught your eye the most. A right asshole he was, but there was still a charm he had. You two mostly only had some idle chit-chat, but Angel seemed to be getting pretty close to him, especially after he had one of his rougher nights that you hadn't been around for. Which meant you talked to the cat demon more. Never really one on one, but still you grew to see why your friend seemed so comfortable around him. He was easy to talk to. You mostly saw him as a friend of a friend though. Maybe even a good acquaintance if you wanted to push it.

But then there was that night…

Two in the morning and you still couldn't get a single wink of sleep. Tossing and turning and general frustration simply wouldn't allow you.

You couldn't get it out of your head. It had been so long since the memories had been allowed to invade your mind like they did tonight. Your skin crawled as if it wanted to escape you and if you could you would let it. You felt utterly trapped as it clung to you. Like the only escape from it was to dissolve into nothing.

You knew why the memories had come back swinging, all too aware that it was such a stupid thing to have opened that old wound. All Charlie had done was pull you to the new activity she was so excited to share. But her hands dragged you and made it impossible to pull away and when you made it to that room all the eyes fell on you. It was horrifyingly familiar in a way that it shouldn't have been. You had wanted to disappear right then.

Yet you didn't speak up and instead let her do as she pleased, knowing that it was such a mundane thing that you shouldn't have let upset you like it did. You felt childish at having let the event ruin your night, at letting the entire situation dig itself into old scars. But still, you just couldn't stop the dread it built within you. You couldn't stop that clawing feeling of trying to escape your own body. Of escaping the phantom feeling of drag and pull and the expecting eyes that felt almost as if they'd burn you alive.

It didn't take long before the feeling began to sting your eyes with tears. It was at that point you knew there would be no sleeping tonight. So you finally gave up trying, sitting up in your bed as you wiped away the tears that hadn't been given the chance to fall. You quickly composed yourself, as you were just so great at doing by this point, and tossed on a warm robe before leaving your room. You glance at Angel's door when you do.

You contemplate for a brief moment if you should wake him, though you quickly decide against it. He was tired enough as it was with the shit he had to deal with on the daily, he didn't need you keeping him up on top of that. So you turned down the hall, making sure to remain quiet so as not to disturb anyone.

You needed a distraction, something to get your mind off everything. To numb that horrible feeling. You find that nothing calls your name quite like the sound of a drink and so you navigate the many halls until you find yourself at the hotel bar.

As you suspected, the place was barren and silent. You have no problem getting behind the bar and making your own drink as it most certainly wasn't your first time. You note that you should probably try to keep the place tidy while you're at it, but decide that you'll do so after you enjoy the sweet relief at the bottom of a glass.

And, for a few short moments, you do. The warm, burning feeling spreads through your chest and purges the shivers right on out of you. But it doesn't last after the drink is finished and the silence truly sets in. So you pour yourself another, trying to chase any semblance of peace.

“Can't sleep?” A voice asks from behind you, nearly scaring you off of the barstool as you whip around to see who it was. You're surprised to see Husk of all people, even more surprised to see something that might resemble concern show on him. But you soon calm, giving a nod to him before turning back around.

“Nope…you too?” You ask, catching him rounding his way to the other side of the bar as you do.

“I prefer nights. A lot more peaceful, especially in this place” you acknowledge his comment with a hum before turning back to nursing your drink.

There is a silence between the two of you for a good few minutes. He cleans around for a while and you try to let your emotions leave you with every sip. It isn't long before you poor a third and you try to ignore the fact that this isn't helping.

It's when you go to pour your fourth drink that he stops what he's doing. You try to ignore him and whatever he's deciding to do with his time, but it becomes harder when he leans on the bar in front of you.

“That’s not gonna help you” He states plainly, your eyes turning to glance at him. There's a brief moment where you attempt to pull your facade back up. Where you try to tug your lips into a smile and choke out any words that would deter his potential questions. But it is exhausting and you are already beyond tired. So instead you hang your head.

“I know…was just hoping I'd be wrong” your words are quiet and mumbled, a far cry from your usually quite loud and charismatic self. It makes your insides twist to have let yourself be seen like this.

“Do you wanna talk about why you're up so late?” His question makes you swallow thickly, hands gripping tighter on the glass in your hand. Another few moments of silence pass that seem almost like an eternity under his stare. It takes a while for you to find any words in this state.

“It’s not worth your time” you manage the sentence, eyes fixated on the honey color of your chosen liquor. You hear him sigh, taking a step back as he pours his own drink.

“I'm the one who's askin’. If I waste my time that's my own damn fault” you don't like how hard it is for you to find the meaning in his tone. You can't tell if he's being dismissive or trying to comfort you. So you settled on answering with silence once more. You hear him sigh before he rounds the bar again.

“Look, tell me or don't tell me, but I at least want to hear you say something” this time you do hear an attempt to be genuine. He takes a seat beside you and you finally turn to look at him again. His eyes expect nothing, a rare sight for you. It's…comforting. You aren't sure if it was you or the alcohol talking, but you could have even been able to delude yourself into thinking that he cared. You look away again when you feel that false comfort begins to wrap you. You find your tongue beginning to slip.

“I…” you start and suddenly it's like your insides churn. You put nearly everything into stopping the pull of tears.

“It's just a bad night for me, is all. I…I’m not really used to this” you finally let the words fall and you can't bring yourself to look at him. You don't want to know how he's reacting to your words. You don't want to see just how little he actually cares.

“Used to what, exactly?” he pries further, asking for more. The flood gates were already open and there was no use in trying to shut them now.

“The way everyone is just so comfortable with each other- the way that I almost feel comfortable. It was easy with Angel; both of us in the same shit situation with no one else to lean on but each other. But nobody needs something from me here, nobody's trying to take anything- they don't want anything! And it- I just-...” your hands shake, your breath becoming unsteady. It's been so long since you felt this pathetic.

“I don't think I'm supposed to be here” you admit as your voice wavers. You try to steady your breath and calm yourself. It wasn't safe to be this vulnerable, it was stupid.

“I get it” his words stop your thoughts immediately. You're left reeling from the whiplash and expecting that he must have grown a second head that speaks only lies. But it's just him as he stares down at his now half-empty drink, no second head in sight. There's a look of contemplation on his face that you can see even as he keeps his eyes on the glass. A moment later he speaks again.

“When you've spent so long getting used to people treating you like shit it can be hard to accept when someone doesn't. Makes it feel like they're lyin’, like they're just waitin’ for the moment to hurt you the worst” his words quickly hit a deep part of you, knocking at known insecurities you had long since buried as deep as you could.

“Makes you paranoid too, always checking your back for snakes. Gets harder to believe anyone; harder to care about anyone a lot of the time. And so you stop caring, and suddenly it stops hurting as much” his continued words only dug deeper, tugging away at your walls like they were wet paper. When his eyes finally meet yours again you are surprised to see them soften. There isn't pity in them, nor a look that makes you feel as childish as you felt before talking to him. Instead, you are met with a knowing stare, one that says he understands this feeling all too well.

“But the thing is that doesn't mean you feel any better. Makes the suffering pointless if you don't try to let the good in too. You gotta make it mean something” he doesn't look away from you as he says those words and you can't bring yourself to turn away either. You don't want to. Because he's saying everything you needed to hear and you can't find any reason not to trust that he doesn't know exactly how this feels. That he isn't speaking directly from the heart. Your dread turns to a sinking sort of comfort. The kind only broken people could give when they reach out and pull each other from the dark. It's the most seen you've ever felt.

You feel the tears finally well in your eyes but you can't help but smile at him, a sad laugh escaping you.

“Of all the people I expected to give me a pep talk I gotta say, you weren't even on the list” you finally speak again and there is no hiding that he's hit something deep within you.

“Of all the fucked up people here, I didn't expect you would need anyone to talk to” He offers the same smile as he hand you a napkin. You take it without complaint and quickly calm your tears with deep breaths, wiping away the strays that fell. There's a short moment of silence, but it doesn't feel as suffocating anymore. In fact you almost feel a strange comfort in it now that it doesn't feel so empty. Still, you knew you should probably say something.

“You know, uh…” you break the silence as you once again turn to your drink, this time far less focused on ignoring him as much as you were trying to compose yourself enough to speak. At the very least you're able to steady your voice.

“Angel and I were going to head out tomorrow. I don't think he'd mind if you came…if you're free, of course” you invited him but didn't catch the way his smile widened at the request.

“I can't guarantee anything, but I’m not declining” his maybe is better than a no, so you don't particularly mind his answer. In fact you can feel your own smile soften at it.

Since then the three of you have been near inseparable. At any given part of the day at least two of you are off doing something with each other. It's nice, you think, to have people this close to you, to have a reason to care again. The three of you look out for each other and It's the closest you've ever gotten to stability in your life. At this point, you don't think you'd trade it for anything.

Which is why when you start to develop feelings for Husk, you are utterly horrified.

You know him and Angel have…something going on. You know they're not together as you know you would have been the first to know, but you've also never seen Angel smile the way he does when he's around the winged demon. You would say the same for Husk, but you've caught him sending the same soft smile to you once or twice and you honestly can't tell if it's your lovestruck daze or if those smiles are what you think they are.

Your emotions are a spiraling mess within you. You care so much for both of them. You'd live through a thousand hells if it meant you'd have them around. The absolute last thing you want is to fuck this up.

So you choose to say nothing. You bottle your feelings and throw them in the garbage. As far as you were concerned being in their afterlives at all was good enough. You wouldn't risk it.

However, it became hard during nights like these. When you all were giddy off alcohol, conversation flowing through wide smiles and every touch as gentle as it could ever be. It was the definition of home, a place where you were the most comfortable you could possibly be. Your tongue loose and your actions anything but hidden. Your care poured from you openly and only so much could be blamed on the alcohol.

“I fucking love you guys” the words fell shamelessly from you. Granted you were pretty fucked up by this point as you tried to keep up with them, but it wasn't more than you could reasonably handle without blacking out. They both turned to you, inebriated smiles sending themselves your way.

“Love you too, sweetheart” Angel returned, one of his hands patting your head, a wider smile spreading on your face as he did. You leaned against the bar, your head propped up by one of your hands as you turned to Husk. You just barely notice the way he leaned ever so slightly closer. But he says nothing and you can't help but feel like you deserve at least an acknowledgement of your words from him.

“I'd be happy to show you if you don't believe me” the words slipped and once more you didn't notice what you were saying. You do, however, catch his eyes widen, pupils dilating a bit. When he continues to say nothing you roll your eyes and pull back just slightly. You don't catch the way he almost follows you before he pulls himself back, nor the stare Angel is giving from beside you.

“One of these days I'll get you to say it back” you speak before downing yet another shot. You miss the quick glance they give to each other.

“It’s getting late. We should probably head to bed” Angel suggests as he stands.

“Really?” You whine mostly to yourself.

“You two go ahead. I have to clean up anyway” Husk gives his excuse and you groan but ultimately agree to the end of your night. You take one of Angel's hands as the both of you begin your stumble down the halls. The two of you are a giggling mess against each other, nearly falling about twenty separate times, but you do eventually make it to your room. You quickly notice that he hesitates on his goodbyes though.

“Hey uh, can we…talk?” He asks and, though you are a bit surprised it doesn't show.

“Of course!” You agree, opening your door and allowing him inside your room. You make it to your bed where you both quickly sit, unable to stand unsupported for long.

“What's up?” You ask, bleary eyes turning to him. You have to admit you're a little worried, but you hope that whatever he wants to talk about isn't too serious.

“You and Husk are gettin’ pretty close” his words don't strike you at first, so you give him a smile.

“Yeah. Same for you” you comment and watch a wave of confusion hit him.

“What?” He seems to almost not Believe the words that have left you and it takes you a moment to realize why.

“Oh come on Angel, don't tell me you haven't noticed how he looks at you! With that little smile of his- and don't you think I've missed you staring either! You two are absolutely thirsty for each other” Your voice is louder than you notice. When he quickly tries to quiet you down you fall back onto your bed with a laugh, trying to escape his hands. He continues to reach out anyway and so you pull him down with you, eventually sending the both of you into another giggle fit.

“Could say the same for you” Angel speaks through his laugh, though there is a hesitance to it. You can't hide the way the implication catches you.

“You think so?” You ask cautiously, almost worried as you turn to look at him, his body beside yours.

“Yeah…Yeah I do” he replies just as slowly, the air in the room becoming tense in the sudden silence. It was a longer silence than you would have liked, both of you turning your eyes to the ceiling in contemplation of the words you both had spoken.

After a moment Angel sits up a bit, just enough to lean his head against his hand and look down at you.

“I love him. Like a whole fuckin’ lot and…I love you too. You’re the best friend I could’a eva asked for in this shithole” he admits and you can't tear your eyes from him. He, however, can't bear to look at you.

“And I was hopin', maybe, if you'd like ta…well if you'd wanna share him with me. If he even does feel that way about us” the words leave his lips ever so carefully and you can't help the wide smile that breaks across your face, all your previous worry disappearing. You reach a gentle hand out, his eyes finally turning back to yours when it lands on his face.

“I'd love that” you let the words leave and watch as he lights up, smile soft and worry dissipating by the second. Then suddenly an idea pops into your head, a mischievous smile crawling to your lips.

“Oh no, I know that look. What are you plannin’?” He asks, amusement overtaking any attempts to look worried. You quickly sat up, pulling him along with you.

“Well Mr. Grouchy Pants likes to walk by my door whenever he needs extra cleaning rags and personally I think he should be going to bed” you explain as you stand on still shaky legs. Angel doesn't seem to catch on for a moment before suddenly realizing what you mean.

“You ain't gonna do that” Angel says oh so confidently. He must have failed to account for how much bolder you are when drunk, because you most definitely plan to. In fact you hear stumbling feet making their way right about now. So you open the door, catching the attention of a certain winged cat almost immediately.

“Still working?” you ask. He has to blink a few times to catch up with the situation and you know then that drank a bit more after you guys left.

“Yeah” he answers simply. A moment later Angel is behind you, peaking out as well. He leans two arms against you for balance and Husk gives both of you a look.

“You ain't makin’ it down the hall like that. You look like you're about ta pass out” Angel points out and Husk turns back to him, almost offended.

“I'm not that drunk, sweetheart” the nickname catches you off guard and Husk seems just as surprised at what just came out of his own mouth.

“Oh? We’re doing pet names now kitty?” you tease a little and he looks utterly floored by the nickname. It sends a grin across Angel's face.

“Yeah kitten, since when did that happen?” Angel's voice is even more teasing than yours and Husk seems completely out of his depth. Every word he tries to speak dies before it leaves his lips. Eventually, he tips his hat down and tries to leave.

“I gotta go to bed-” before he gets too far you manage to snag one of his suspender straps, gently pulling him back a bit. He follows, knowing he would probably fall if he didn't.

“You should stay with us for the night” you offer and watch as his eyes shoot wider than you've ever seen them. He goes to speak but you cut him off before he can say a word.

“Mind out of the gutter. We’re just going to sleep’” you clarify and hear Angel whine a bit. You quickly nudge him and he stops, accepting that there would be nothing else tonight. But, while Husk's face seems a little less horrified, he still hesitates.

“Please?” You ask in as sweet a tone as you can manage. You watch as he uses the last of his resolve to attempt to answer no, but when Angel leans down near you and offers the same pleading look, he simply can't.

“Fine” he mumbles out with his arms crossed. Without a word you tug him inside, the door shutting as the three of you stumble your way back. Each one of you managed to bump or knock the others at least once as you all did your best to make it into bed.

At some point you and Angel are on the bed and Husk is still hesitating to follow. He's only allowed a moment before Angel reaches out and pulls him, his body landing heavily on the two of you with the strings of curses that follow. You all struggled to find your spots, moving and squirming to get comfortable. Your blankets are tossed and tugged to cover the three of you until, finally, you all seem to all be covered. It's then that idle talk arrives, slurred attempts at conversation that distract long enough for you all to get comfortable.

It wasn't a surprise Husk ended up in the middle, the two of you shamelessly cuddling up to him on either side. He's a bit tense for a while, but when he does allow himself to calm down and relax he is a purring mess; a sound that is only intensified when you absentmindedly pet the fluff on his head. Eventually all of you become quiet, eyes heavy with a need for sleep and the most comfortable you all have ever been. It's during this, moments away from drifting off, that husk manages two words.

“Love you” he slurs out, but to who neither you are Angel are sure. So instead you take it as a sentiment meant for both of you. You lay a soft kiss against his head before snuggling closer and Angel does the same.

You could definitely get used to this.

[phattiepheeder]

I was so constipated

there's so much trapped gas that I can feel it in my shoulder. I keep trying to push it out but the pain is excruciating. I would get on my hands and knees and just push, not worried about how loud I was straining. at some point I was borderline screaming. until my boyfriend decided he couldn't stand me trying to manually push it out any longer. he gave me an enema which stretched my already packed to the brim stomach to the max. I cried out in agony but he kept filling me. he then made me sit there with the water inside for a while. I could feel my stomach sloshing and grumbling as if the water had offended it. by the time he let me release I was crying and fingering myself. the pressure pressed on my stomach made me so horny I couldn't take it. I went to go sit on the toilet but he stopped me. he told me to get in the tub to let it out. my pants were already off so I got on my knees in the tub and I pushed. at first only water was trickling out so I pushed harder. I am a very vocal strainer which got my boyfriend off. I could feel the shit coming closer to my hole. my boyfriend then pushed on my stomach and all the trapped waste finally released.

sorry I'm so high and I stuffed myself on a constipated belly. I wanted to write a story while incredibly horny

This^

“You couldn’t stand the pressure anymore. All that heavy eating had packed on a few pounds, but had also packed your guts. Today was your fourth day without going to the bathroom and your belly was massively bloated, it ballooned over the top of the jeans that you just managed to squeeze on.

Your boyfriend insisted that he stuff you again, and not wanting to disappoint, you started eating the food he gave you, but you thought he could tell something was wrong as you ate less enthusiastically than usual. He didn’t say anything but later on in the evening as you sat down to digest, the button on your jeans finally popped off, leading your newly developed rolls to spill out.

“Seems like those stuffings are really working wonders,” he said, jiggling my gut. But when he moved my fat, he noticed how taught my belly was. “Woah, your belly is so tight,” he said.

“I know ,” you groaned. “ I-er…I haven’t been able to go to the bathroom…” you said.

He furrowed his brow, thinking about how he hadn’t heard your usually thick farts in a while. “How long has it been like this?”

“Four days,” you admitted, rubbing your belly. Your boyfriend seemed concerned, thinking of just how much you’d eaten and how days worth of that food was stuck in you.

“Your belly must feel so full and heavy,” he said.

“You have no idea how bad my stomach hurts. I’m so full. I can’t even fart and the trapped gas is killing me.”

“Well, let’s see if you go tonight after you’re done digesting that last big stuffing.”

But hours passed and whereas you’d have usually emptied yourself by now, you sat on the toilet straining as hard as you could but not even a puff of air came out. You moved onto your hands and knees trying desperately to force anything out. Your boyfriend, hearing your strains, took pity on you and got out an enema bag.

He inserted the tube into your packed rectum, having to force through the compacted dense turd. Then he began pumping you with water, filling your already full bowels even more. You groaned as your belly expanded, fat hanging closer to the ground now. When he pulled the tube out, he instructed me to hold the water in as long as I could.

The pressure in my belly led my fingers to begin playing with myself. My belly aches so bad and my hole had started puckering, as the weight behind it grew. Once the pressure became too much, I moved to sit on the toilet , desperate for some relief. Just as you went to relax your sweaty hole, your boyfriend stopped you.

“No, I don’t need to deal with another clogged toilet. You empty in the tub”

Reclenching your pucker, you got up off the toilet and waddled to the bathtub, getting on your hands and knees. You began pushing as hard as you can, crying out in pain , but only a little water trickled out. Whatever had been clogging you was moving painfully slow towards your exit. Your boyfriend recognizing how much pain you were in, came over and began pressing on your belly, squeezing in a downwards motion to coax your blockage out.

You felt a huge shift and everything glugging down to your hole. With one solid strain push, you tight asshole exploded, sending the thick plug of shit flying with all that water.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your tongue lolled out as days worth of constipation flowed from you leaving a pile so big that you couldn’t even sit back with feeling it on your cheeks.

Cries and moans were heard as you finally emptied the consequences of your gluttony.

[bagopucks]

T. Zegras - Getcha Back

✄————————————

Trevor Zegras x Reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning(s): General angst

Woah what’s this?? New content??

—————————————

The tenth time in a week. The tenth time.

“A Romantic Night In Anaheim”

Trevor Zegras spotted out with blonde model. Certainly not his girlfriend, but maybe more his type?

“I’m so fucking sick!” Trevor hadn’t cheated on me. We already clarified that with one another, but I couldn’t don’t do it any more. I was so sick of hearing people talking about Trevor and other girls. I was supposed to be his girl. Not every blonde bimbo that hung off of him in every photo he took.

My heart was physically pained by the decision to leave, but I knew it was going to help me in the end. It would be far more beneficial than sticking around.

“It’s not my fault!”

“I don’t care, Trevor!” I was exhausted. Completely exhausted with my situation. “I don’t care that it’s not your fault! I don’t care that you’re not to blame! I don’t care! What I care about, is constantly being compared to people! Constantly feeling like I have to fight for you! To compete for you! With girls that you don’t even fucking know!”

“That doesn’t mean you have to leave! You can’t just leave!” Trevor was helpless. We were both helpless. He was crying, I was sobbing. We didn’t know how to handle our situation, and in stead of figuring it out together, I simply chose to leave. I chose to take the easy way out.

“I can, Trevor. I can. And I am.”

——————

It had been weeks. I couldn’t exactly avoid Trevor, seeing as I worked at the arena in one of the offices, but I also had a lock on the door that I found beneficial. Despite the fact that at times, guys would stop in and see me after getting out of other meetings.

I was restless for the first week without Trevor. I could barely sleep, I cried through the days and often felt numb in the evenings. Then I’d fall asleep during my lunch hours at work and occasionally when I didn’t have much work to be done during my time at the arena.

Nobody talked to me about Trevor. I didn’t know how he was doing, but I could only assume he was as miserable as I was. Or maybe he’d already moved on.

Certain players would ask how I was doing or what I was up to. Jamie stopped in one day to ask if I was seeing anybody. I didn’t question his motive before answering. It was Jamie after all.

Perhaps I should have questioned his motive. Because if I knew he was asking for Trevor, I wouldn’t have been sitting at my desk with a huge bouquet of flowers in front of my computer. And a sweetly written note on them about how much Trevor missed me.

“Ooh la la,” a sing song voice called from my doorway. My head snapped up to look at the secretary, Gen, as she stepped into my office. “Who’s sending you flowers?”

I was swift to pull the tag off the vase, tucking it under my thigh.

“Nobody important. Just someone trying to get into my pants.” I lied with a shrug. I slowly moved the vase aside.

“Must be some extensive lengths they’re going to. You’re all the rage in Anaheim.”

“I wish,” I scoffed out. Maybe then I wouldn’t have been so hung up on Trevor still.

I loved him. I feared I always would. Leaving him had been hard, and working in the same building was even harder. But still being in love with him after everything was the worst.

“You should see it through. The guy might be looking for more than just what’s in your pants.” She suggested, smiling from ear to ear. “I just came in to let you know we’re getting off early today. Supposed to be severe thunder storms.” I was quick to nod at her words before she left. I stuffed the tag in a bottom drawer of my desk and left it. I assumed it would be the only one.

It certainly wasn’t.

Less than three days later, I had a box of chocolates on my desk with another tag. Another apology from Trevor that I knew was meaningless. I’m sure Trevor meant it when he said sorry, but he had nothing to say sorry for. I simply couldn’t handle all of the bad publicity on social media. I was sick of it. If anybody should have been apologizing, it was me. But I couldn’t give him an inch, because he’d run with it and end up taking a mile. I needed to be disinterested. I needed to convince him and myself, that I was disinterested.

So I took that tag and tossed it into my desk too. I did eat the chocolate though. It was another week before I heard from Trevor. In the form of Jamie.

He waltzed into my office with a bright smile and two left feet, stumbling right into the leg of the couch I had in my office- hurting himself in the process.

He flushed when I laughed at him, but he was swift to distract me from his own clumsiness.

“Trevor sent me up here to talk to you?”

“Uh uh.” I shook my head, my interest immediately dying. I looked back at my laptop.

“Please?”

“We broke up, Jamie.” I found Trevor’s persistence endearing and frustrating at the same time. I was hurting myself more by denying myself the luxury of him.

I looked down at my computer, continuing my work while Jamie stood there. I assumed he’d leave. I hoped he’d leave. When he didn’t. I looked back up at him.

“Trevor and I broke up, Jamie.” I repeated much more slowly.

“I know but-“

“Close my door on the way out, Drysdale.”

He flinched at the use of his last name, but he left nonetheless.

I was hopeful that I had finally stopped Trevor in his tracks. Hopeful that I could start moving on without being harassed. Until I got a message from one of the secretaries one night. An SOS message, calling me into the office for a piece of missing paperwork I had to send her. I was swift to throw on a sweatshirt and leggings in hopes of looking somewhat decent before I left.

When I got to the arena, I slipped in one of the back doors, and almost had a heart attack when I spotted a figure standing by the elevator in the dark. I jumped and gasped.

“It’s okay! It’s okay!” Trevor turned on his phone flashlight, shining it on the floor to light up the area. There were very few lights on. Other than a few over the ice and some in the locker room halls.

“Trevor, oh my god.” I breathed out. Of all people, I never would have expected myself to be relieved to see him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologized as he walked closer. I took notice of his abnormal height, and when I looked down I spotted his skates.

“What are you doing here?” I looked back up. Trevor’s hair was a hot mess, and even in the dark, I could see the circles beneath his eyes.

“I was waiting for you.”

My brow furrowed in confusion. “Huh?”

“I asked Gen to text you.. the secretary. I thought you wouldn’t come if I asked.” Trevor’s soft words made me want to rip my own heart out and stomp on it.

I wanted to scream at him. To remind him we broke up. To remind him I wasn’t strong enough to see him. Instead, I nodded slowly.

“What did you need me for?” I couldn’t turn him down. Who knew? It might have been an emergency.

“Can you come skate with me?”

Not an emergency.

“Trevor I didn’t even bring my skates.” I mumbled, somewhat annoyed by this whole situation. Annoyed by my feelings. Annoyed by the fact that my heart was beating obnoxiously fast.

“You left them at our place when you left. I brought them with me.”

I frowned. I couldn’t just tell him no. I wanted to. I really did. But I couldn’t.

“Trevor. I don’t know.” I stared down at the skates, afraid if I looked up at him, I’d give in.

“Please? I’m tired. You know I’m clumsy when I’m tired.”

Impulsively, I looked up at him with a suspicious glare. It was my breaking point.

“A quick skate. A quick one.”

That was against my initial plan. I was supposed to ignore his existence. Forget about him. Stop crying about him. This was the opposite of so many plans I had.

I followed Trevor down the hall and into the locker room, where I found his old book bag that held my skates inside.

“Do you need help?”

“I can manage. I’ll meet you out on the ice.”

I could tell Trevor was anxious about leaving my side, especially when he lingered near the tunnel, looking on the verge of speaking. Eventually though, he left the room.

We were both alone again. And after that small bit of contact, it felt like I was back at square one. Choked up and miserable over losing someone I loved so much.

I pulled the skates out and slipped them on as my vision grew bleary with tears. I tightened the laces, stopping only momentarily to consider leaving.

When did I get to this point? The point of questioning whether or not I wanted to be with Trevor? The question of whether he was worth it or not?

When had I decided he wasn’t worth it? The struggle, tension, sadness?

I finished tying my skates and pulled the guards off before I made my way down the tunnel and out to the ice. The arena was dimly lit, but Trevor still looked good whether it was under a million spotlights or a few low lights.

I stood by the open door, watching Trevor skate lazy circles while he surfed through an app on his phone. It was only when I cleared my throat that he looked up to spot me. He skidded to a stop and waited.

I stepped out onto the ice, finding myself meeting him somewhere near the center. Trevor nervously reached for my hand. I gave him a warning look but I slipped my hand into his own nonetheless. He led me to the edge of the ice to skate along the wall, side by side.

“Did you get my flowers?”

Shit.

“Yeah. They smelled nice.”

“And the chocolates?”

Double shit.

“Yes, Trevor.”

“Did you get my Jamie-gram?” I had to stifle a laugh at that.

“I told him to leave my office,” I admitted guiltily.

“Oh.” I looked up at Trevor, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Trevor, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” If I started, I feared I might never stop.

“Yeah.. I know.” He lifted his head, but he still didn’t look at me.

“Please understand it wasn’t my intention. But everybody was constantly talking about the girls you took pictures with. And these girls- god..” I paused. “When I’m out with you? And they just completely ignore my existence?” I shook my head. “I’m not asking for recognition. That’s not what I want. I just wanted people to respect me.”

Trevor’s head finally turned in my direction.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t fix that.” I shook my head at his words. It was never his fault. I never expected an apology.

“Don’t apologize, T. I shouldn’t have been so hard on you for something you couldn’t have fixed. I should have been harder on myself for letting it get between us.”

Our conversation felt messy and misguided. We were both dancing around a subject we didn’t know how to address.

“It doesn’t have to be between us.” Our eyes met. Could it be that simple? If I just took a step back from everything and stopped listening so much. Maybe it could be fixed.

“After everything I did? After how I walked out?” Trevor cut in front of me, and I bumped right into his body. He reached out to hold me upright.

“Just promise me you’ll open up next time instead of blowing up. Promise me you won’t just walk out.”

The first would take some work, but the second promise I could make with certainty.

I missed Trevor. Every single part of him. Even the parts that annoyed me.

“Trevor, I don’t think I could ever stand the guilt of leaving you that way again.” I spoke softly, my hands slowly resting on his chest before I slid them up to clasp around his shoulders.

“So we’ve solved that problem?” Trevor asked quietly, but hopefully. I nodded, flashing a nervous smile.

“You trust me?” I asked.

“I do. I’ve always trusted you.” I nodded once again at his response.

“Can I kiss you then?” His question made my heart melt.

“Thought you’d never ask, Trev.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[svt-reneko]

📁 — 𖥔 maybe change is a good thing . masterlist

previous next word count: 1.03k timeline: january 2014 authors note: this took me way longer than it should've cause i kept getting distracted 😭 i literally sat down and told myself i’d get this finished asap but i ended up watching youtube for 4 hours then fell asleep… (also forgot about it for 3 days)

The flight was anything but comfortable—homesickness gripped Reneko the moment she stepped onto the plane and the constant cries of the baby in the row behind her echoed in her ears. Closer to the end of the flight, the cries had faded into the background, unlike her initial doubts.

She started to wonder if this had been a foolish decision. She wasn’t even a full day into her move—hadnt even stepped off the plane— and yet regret was already clawing at her.

Now, crammed in the back of a car with Pledis staff, the discomfort seemed to multiply. The nervousness that had begun to bubble inside her at the airport was now rising in full force, and her stomach twisted just from her thoughts. What if she met them and they decided she wasn’t good enough? What if they were all mean? What if none of this worked out? She knew they’d all have different opinions, most being alot more positive than others, but her mind continued to overthink. Would she be a distraction? What if they couldn’t get past the fact that the groups balance was being thrown off by a girl with little to no experience for the kpop industry?

Her thoughts were cut off by the engine of the car coming to a stop and her name being called.

“Reneko, we’re here,” the staff member said, her voice gentle but firm. “The boys are waiting in the practice room. I’ll take you there, don’t worry.”

She blinked, startled, as if she hadn’t realised how fast this was all happening. The reality of the moment settled in and once again, she could feel her heart starting to race.

For a brief second, she considered telling them she wasn’t ready, that maybe she needed more time to prepare. But the words stuck in her throat—she couldn’t give up just like that. Anxiety was normal for something like this, she couldn’t turn back and run away.

Reneko let the staff member knock and enter the practice room first, too scared that her legs might have turned to jelly and the boys’ first impression of her would be watching her face-plant onto the floor.

She swore her heart almost stopped the second she walked through the door. All thirteen members were lined up, facing her way as if they had been rehearsing, and as soon as she stepped inside they immediately greeted her with polite smiles and choruses of “hello.”

Of course, she introduced herself, telling them her name and where she’s from.

She heard a gasp from somewhere in the middle of the line, followed by one of the boys stepping forward with a bright smile. “You’re from Japan!? Woah!” he exclaimed, his enthusiasm breaking through the tension in the room.

“Yes.” She smiled back, her body feeling less tense.

At that moment, she silently cursed herself for only knowing an ounce of korean. She doubted that she would be able to fully converse with any of them, unless one of them knew some amount of Japanese or the few english phrases she knew.

They began to introduce themselves from the start to end of the line, and Reneko tried her best to memorize their names.

She didn’t even realise that the staff had left until she glanced around the room, not knowing what else to say.

Jeonghan immediately sat Reneko down in a corner with Seungkwan, starting a conversation.

“Hyungggg~ thats not fair! Youre stealing her away!” Dino whined, his lips forming an exaggerated pout before chasing after Jeonghan, Seungkwan and Reneko.

Somehow, Reneko felt so comfortable already, even if she had caught Woozi glaring at her a few times.

They all shot multiple questions at her, startling her at first but she was having fun anyways.

“How old are you?”

“Dance, vocals or rap?”

“What made you join Pledis?”

“Do you cheat in games? Serious question, by the way.” Jeonghan questioned last with a smirk on his face. Seungkwan and Dino immediately started to let out dramatic sighs, scolding him.

All Reneko could do was laugh, finding their way of questioning entertaining. “I don’t think I should call myself out like that.” She joked.

The group had split off into different places around the room, doing things on their own or messing around with one another and Reneko watched from the same spot she had been in for almost an hour.

“You don’t seem as nervous as you were before.” She heard a voice from infront of her, and she looked up to see Minghao.

He was the only member, except from Seungcheol, who she hadn’t had a full conversation with, and Woozi, that Reneko hadn’t spoken to. She figured he was one of the quiter members, so she decided to let him come talk to her when he was ready.

“Not anymore,” She replied with a light laugh. “I was more worried about how well I’d be able to communicate in Korean than about meeting you guys.”

She watched as Minghao gave her a faint smile and sat down beside her. “My Korean still isn’t the best, I only joined a month ago. But if it makes you feel better, Jeonghan speaks a bit of Japanese. I’m not so sure how well, but I know he can speak a small amount.”

Reneko was relieved to say the least. “That does help.” she said with a small smile. “I just hope I get used to things as quick as I can.”

“Take your time, we won’t rush you.” Minghao started. “Some members might be a little awkward, but they’ll get used to it soon enough. All of them will understand and be patient, dont worry—even if Woozi acts like hes against the idea.”

i dont like this but i better post it before i go crazy

[auxcordlawd]

Part One: Wandering Thoughts of a Ravenclaw

Summary: 18 year old Ravenclaw student is dating Miles Bletchley (Slytherin), and gets on Professor Snape’s bad side

Warnings: French Kissing, Heavy Petting

Side Note: I prefer long drawn out stories, and this has been a fantasy of mine for quite some time. This is my first time writing fanfic, so lmk any comments, suggestions, feel free.

The snow was finally melting outside the castle, a sign that Easter break was near. After Easter break you only have one more term at Hogwarts, which gives you mixed emotions. You’re excited to start your career, debating between teaching at Hogwarts for Potions or working at St. Mungos as a healer. Both are realistic options due to receiving O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s in Potions, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, and Charms.

You were now sitting in Defense Against the Dark Arts which is now taught by none other than Severus Snape. An ornery, greasy haired, hooked nose professor whom most students either feared or despised. Thankfully you never saw his worst as you followed the rules, yet he seemed annoyed by you. Maybe it was because I’ve typically done well in his courses. That is until this term.

You, a Ravenclaw, recently started dating Miles Bletchley, a Slytherin in your same year. He’s been walking you to classes, and just kissed you for the first time while dropping you off at Defense Against the Dark Arts. You can’t quit thinking of it, and are having trouble paying attention. It’s not until Professor Snape drops books heavily in front of you that you realize you completely zoned out.

“Miss (y/l/n)?”

Snape says looking down at me with a scowl.

“Yes Professor?”

You say while blushing, feeling uncomfortable under his harsh gaze.

“I asked you to repeat the spell you would use to lure a dragon to sleep. The one I mentioned not ten minutes ago.”

“Umm.”

Is all you can get out. You completely missed that part of the lesson.

“Detention with me after class. Perhaps you should concern yourself less with boys and focus on your studies Miss (y/l/n).”

Snape said while lowering his voice for the second sentence.

His concern gave you an odd rush.

After class was over you stayed sitting in your seat, holding you breath for what was about to come.

After the last student left he slammed the door, and briskly walked to your desk, his dark cape flowing behind him.

“Miss (y/l/n), I expect this behavior from the hormonal 4th year girls, but you, an 18 year old young woman, should not be daydreaming about a boy during my lecture. I truly could care less about your personal life, but since you have applied to teach Potions next year, I must question your competence.”

“Professor-“

He cuts me off before you can try to defend myself.

“You will be assisting me to grade papers for the 3rd and 4th year students for the next week starting tomorrow. You will arrive directly after dinner in my office ready to work. If you can get though this simple task I will not immediately remove your application from our files.”

“But-“

“All you need to say is ‘Yes, sir’.” He says in a commanding tone telling you the conversation is over.

“Yes, sir.” You say before grabbing your belongings and heading the Ravenclaw common room to process what just happened.

Your career now hanging on a thread by the most temperamental professor at Hogwarts. It took this for you to realize how badly you wanted to teach as opposed to being a healer. As you process this you start to feel angered by the entire evening.

You feel your stomach growl and realize you've almost missed dinner. You run down the spiral staircase and fall into Miles, who catches you with a smile.

“Woah there (y/n), where are you off too so fast?”

Miles states with a smile, still holding your waist. His blue eyes twinkle in a sexy way as he looks at you. You can’t help but admire his short blonde hair and athletic build, no doubt from all those hours on the quidditch field.

“I am starving, ravenous even.”

You say with flirty grin, liking the feel of his hands your waist.

“Come with me.”

He says pulling your hand away from the Great Hall. You follow without question excited for the distraction from the earlier encounter.

He leads you down the grand staircase and whispers the current password to the Slytherin common room. As the door opens you see a delicious looking spread of food being brought by disgruntled looking house elves. You feel a pang of guilt for the elves, but your grumbling stomach wins.

Miles gestures to a green tufted loveseat, and begins filling up a plate for you. He plops down next to you, handing you the full plate. You start scarfing down the delicious meal as Miles watches with amusement.

“Do they starve you over there at Ravenclaw?” He says with a smirk.

You laugh with a full mouth and elbow him in the ribs.

You finish your meal and start chatting with Miles. Your legs draped over his, his hand on your thigh. You start feeling the building desire to kiss him as the common room empties. You climb onto his lap and start to lightly kiss him as he pulls you closer. His tongue slipping into your mouth, your tongue lightly pushing against his as the heat between you builds. One of his hands slides to your ass under your skirt, the other on your ribs just below your breast under your uniform shirt.

“Ahem.”

You jolt up causing Miles to quickly remove his hands. You turn towards the common room door to see a tall dark figure standing there watching you.

“50 points from Ravenclaw, and Miles you will be reporting to Professor Sprout for detention for two weeks directly after your classes.” Professor Snape said with a smirk seemingly directed at you. “Miss (y/l/n), go straight to your dormitory.”

[natslildove]

gif not mine

Bring you back

natasha romanoff x reader

summary: since vormir, you haven’t been in touch with any avenger, you went missing. no one knew where you were or if you were even still alive. until one day, you hear a knock on the door and a familiar face awakes something inside of you, you thought was long gone. hope.

warnings: swearing, panic attack

authors note: sorry it took me like 2 weeks.. i kind of forgot what the story was supposed to be lol. anyways !!!! hope you enjoy it ! <3

you can find the previous chapter here.

11:07 AM

You’ve been in the compound for less than an hour and you’re at Tony and Bruce’s lab, being overwhelmed with theories of how and why they think they can bring Natasha back.

But the thing is, they only have about 2 days. To be precise, 56 hours. Natasha died at 7:13 PM. That’s why is always so hard to sleep when every night around that time, your mind goes back to Vormir.

“We think that, if we find a way to get to Vormir in time, we might have a chance to stop her”, Tony said.

“Stop her? Won’t that reverse the whole ‘saving the world’ thing?”, you say while looking at the place. It’s a mess. Natasha would’ve hated.

“No, you see, time doesn’t work that way. We can’t go back in time and undo something. It would just create a different timeline, but not change ours. If we go back in time and kill Thanos, everything he’s done will still be done but, the second we kill him, another string of time would be created.”

“Says who?”

“Someone who knows about this stuff, trust me”, Bruce tries to convince you without revealing his source. You look at Tony who just makes a gesture suggesting you to ignore this part.

“So you’re saying that, basically, all we have to do is… Go to Vormir?”

“At the right time, yes”, Stark seems hopeful.

“And why don’t you just get a quinjet or something and go?”

“Because, and that’s the problem, Vormir is about 15.000 light years… We can’t get there.”

You knew it. All of this was just bullshit and suddenly you hated yourself even more for believing there might actually be a way of bringing her back. You try processing what Bruce just said and it’s like the whole universe is laughing at you for being so stupid. How could you. You were fine. Or at least you tried to believe you were. She’s dead. She is dead. Natasha is dead. Your girlfriend is dead. Girlfriend. God, you couldn’t even propose to her, the ring long forgotten somewhere in the locked room. This is all so stupid. You’re so stupid and your girlfriend is dead and you never even get to call her your fiancé or wife or nothing. Nothing. She was nothing now. You’re not even a widow, you’re just nothing. You’re no one and you have no one. You’re alone. It should’ve been you. Not her. She was perfect, she deserved to live. She deserved to win. She should be here.

“Woah, hey! Y/N! Hey, what happened?” Tony is holding your face between his hands and you just now realize you were crying. Bawling. You heart was beating so fast you felt like throwing up.

Fucking panic attacks.

You couldn’t speak, your eyes going back and forth but never really looking at the man in front of you. You shake your head and dries your tears with the back of your hands with a certain strength. You whole face is red and Tony and Bruce are giving you pitiful looks.

God, you hated this. So much.

“I’m fine, it’s fine” you take a deep breath, “Just keep going… How- Is there a way to get there or not?”

“Are you sure you’re okay? We can-“

“I’m fine!”, you cut Bruce, “I’m fine, okay? Just answer me”

“Uhm, there might be a way”

“Stop with this might this might that. Just fucking say it already”

“You know Carol? Captain Marvel, Space chick, blonde and tall?”

“I know of her”

“She got her powers from the Tesseract”, Tony continues, “And now, she can fly trough galaxies like, super fast!“

“So we need her?”

“Not exactly”, this time, Bruce says, “Carol is really, really far away, not even with all her powers she could get there in time. We can’t even reach her”, the scientist looks at you, “We need the Tesseract”

“To create a machine?”

“To hit someone with it”, Tony says while cleaning his throat. You barely even listened.

“What? Are you- Are you serious?”

“It could work”

“It could kill someone! This Carol chick only survived because she was half Kratos or something!”

“Kree, and yeah, maybe, but”, the sortear guy keeps trying to convince you, “It worked! All we need is someone willing to do it. Without risk tests and all the regular procedures we are legally required to do”

Oh. A lab rat. They needed a lab rat dumb enough to sacrifice their life’s for a maybe.

Maybe the person will die. Maybe the whole compound would explode. Maybe it wouldn’t even do nothing.

Maybe they’d get Natasha back.

“I’ll do it”

“Yeah, we know Romeo”, Tony smiles. Bruce walks fast to a closet, opening and grabbing a suit.

“We made from your old measures but…”, Banner looks at you up and down and you feel embarrassed and exposed, “We might need to tighten a little bit”

Ouch, what a way to call you malnourished.

12:33 - 55 hours and 20 minutes until Vormir

Bruce was still measuring you in the lab and it was quiet. You knew he had questions but you were grateful he didn’t asked them.

Yelena enters the place holding a bag os chips and a bottle of water. She doesn’t say anything just gives it to you.

“Eat. And drink it”

“I’m not really hungry”

“I literally did not asked anything”, she opens the bag while still in your hands and grabs some chips, “Natasha will hate to see you like this”, she smiles, “I can picture her complaining about your habits”’ now she laughs, “I mean, when she sees your house she will freak out! You killed all her plants! The place is a mess”

“You’ve only seen the outside”

“Sure”

“What do you mean, ‘sure’?”

“I mean…”, she steals more chips, “Sure”

You get this weird feeling that she’s been visiting you without you realizing it. It says a lot about you.

When Yelena stops rambling about her sister, that’s when you realize you’ve eaten some chips. Basically the whole bag, per se.

“You talk as if you’re sure this will work”, now you’re drinking the water. Yelena is smiling not only because of the conversation.

“Someone has to, right?”

Yeah. Someone has to.

1049 words.

taglist: @fxckmiup @janashstorm @smromanoff @natsxwife @makkaroni221 @marvelogic @thelonewriter247 @lizzeolsenismommy @g-athenaathens ( tumblr just won’t let me tag u idk why i’m sorry :(( )

[staylovesmiley]

Connected~ Teaser

It was late, far too late for the two of them to be awake, and yet here they were.

The sound of rain was loud against the roof of the old building belonging to the company. Chris was sitting on the floor with his back pressed to the couch in the corner of the room, working diligently on his laptop with a pair of headphones sat atop his head.

Lumi stood in the middle of the room, chest heaving as she finished running through the routine for that month’s evaluation for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. Frustration coursed through her as she stripped off the loose tshirt she wore and threw it at the mirrored wall with a groan.

The noise caused the Aussie teen to pause his music program and slip the headphones off his head to rest around his neck. “Woah there- maybe put that back on before someone walks in and gets the wrong idea, yeah?” Lumi raised a hand to flip him off, while also walking to pick up the discarded shirt and slip it back on. “S’not like I was naked or anything I had a sports bra on-“ she grumbled, huffing as she leaned against the wall before slowly sliding down to sit against the cool hardwood floor.

Chris sat his laptop down beside him and fully took the headphones out to join her where she sat across the room from him. “Come on….what’s got you so worked up. You usually don’t stress about monthly evaluations like this. Especially dance- spill it.” Lumi sighed, hating how well the older teen could read her.

She ran her hands across her face, shaking her head hoping that it would clear her overthinking like an etchesketch. “It’s been so long, Christopher- what if they never plan to debut me? What if the second I misstep they use that as a reason to drop me all together?” She said, eyes stinging with tears as she glared defiantly at the floor in front of them.

Chris shook his head, letting out a soft chuckle. “Geez this must be seriously bothering you to call me Christopher-“ without a second thought he grabbed hold of the girl’s ankle and pulled her so she was sat in front of him. “Chris what the-“ her eyes were wide, looking at him as her cheeks began to heat up at the way he handled her so effortlessly.

The older placed his hands on her shoulders, locking eyes and leaning in so that Lumi could practically feel his breath fanning over her face as he spoke. “You aren’t going anywhere. You’re gonna do fine, you’ll be placed in a group any day now I just know it. You are too talented not to.” His words seemed to go over her head, her heartbeat racing and her mind only able to process how close he was to her face like this. “PD-nim would be absolutely idiotic not to debut you. We’ve been over this so many times before, Lumi.”

Nodding slowly, his words began to sink in as the shock of the close proximity wore off and her nerves began to settle in once more. “You’re one to talk…you’re pretty much set to debut. You’ve got it all, Chris- you can sing, dance, rap, and you’re one of the best producers here. You always ace all of your evaluations, JYP thinks you’re special.” Just as Chris was about to deny her words, she sat up on her knees in front of him and became defensive. “I’ve heard him say it! Don’t even try with me, Christopher.” The boy winced and let out an awkward laugh. “Two Christophers in less than an hour- you wound me.” He teased, poking at her chest lightly though it caused her to sit back on her heels and stare at him blankly.

The older sighed, reaching out and pulling her into a warm embrace. “Chris I’m all sweaty from practice-“ she squealed, struggling to get away though it made him hold tighter and laugh maniacally. “As if that’s bothered either of us before? Let me looovveee you~” he sing-songed the last bit, rubbing her back in soothing circles until she relaxed against his chest.

The two teenagers stayed like that for a while, just listening to each others breathe, Lumi seeming to be focused on committing the older’s heartbeat to memory. Eventually she pulled away, looking at him with a bitter sweet expression. “Thank you for trying to cheer me up…I just- this uncertainty is killing me.” He nodded, pulling his knees to his chest. “Me too, Lumi….trust me you aren’t alone. I know everyone around here thinks so highly of me but-“ “that just makes the possible failure that much scarier.” She finished for him, taking one of his hands into hers and giving it a soft squeeze.

author’s note: this is just a sneak peek I still won’t be posting this fully until Collision is completed but I got this done (and more but only sharing this for now) and wanted to give a little teaser since I got a decent amount of notes already on just the master list for this series- ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ ᯓᡣ𐭩

[kaydreamer]

Hell and Heaven

“You can’t be serious,” said Fahrenheit, leaning against the wall of the tiny apartment, arms crossed and a scowl covering her face. “Hot piece of ass in a vault suit walks through the door and you lose your fucking mind.”

“I haven’t lost my fuckin’ mind,” Hancock parroted back as he pulled old food and rubbish from a pantry, throwing everything inedible into a basket. “And it’s not because she’s hot. It’s for a good cause. Figure this place doesn’t see much action, the Minutemen can put it to better use than I can.”

“You use it every other week, Hancock.”

“Yeah, and I can use my own digs upstairs at the Statehouse just as well. Less soundproof, but hey. I ain't shy.”

“So it’s for the Minutemen,” said Fahrenheit, her voice laced with skepticism. “Which is why you’re cleaning it, filling it full of new food, and cooking a fucking stew for when she gets back from Pickmin's. If she gets back from Pickmin's.”

“Okay, so maybe I’m goin’ a little further than I would if she wasn’t the prettiest fuckin’ woman I ever saw,” Hancock admitted, taking a rag and wetting it in a small bucket of Abraxo-soaped water. “And she’ll be back. I only asked her to scout.”

“She’s a vault dweller, Hancock,” said Fahrenheit, exasperated. “She’s greener than a super mutant’s asscheek, still wearing the fucking suit. You think she’ll last long down East Boston way?”

“Quit ya pessimism. She got herself here, didn’t she?”

“With Valentine’s help.”

“...Look, she’ll be fine, okay?” said Hancock, firmly. “I ain’t in the habit of sendin’ people off to their deaths, and she wouldn’t be with the Minutemen if she couldn’t hold her own.”

“Right. Because the Minutemen are flush with recruits after Quincy,” muttered Fahrenheit, but she dropped the subject. “Want me to check on that stew before you burn down the Statehouse with it?”

“Should be good for another half-hour,” said Hancock. “But if you’re offerin’, chuck in a cup of water and a half-cup of brahmin milk. Should keep it goin’ ‘till I get back there.”

“On it,” said Fahrenheit. “Have fun cleaning.”

---

Hope returned to the Statehouse at sundown, ashen-faced and bloodied, with a haunted look in her eyes. Hancock had just kicked his feet up on his favourite couch with Fahrenheit, ready to settle in for the evening with some Jet and a bottle of moonshine, but he was on his feet as soon as he saw her, concern etched in the twisted grooves of his face.

“How’s my little scout doin’?” he asked, steadying her elbow with his hand when she swayed slightly. “You find out what’s happenin’ at the Pickmin Gallery?”

Hope shuddered, visions of gore and dark red paintings flashing through her mind, accompanied by the overwhelming metallic cloy of fresh blood and butchered flesh.

“How do I even start,” she said, through clenched teeth. “You know why they called it the Pickmin Gallery?”

“No, that was the point of the whole job, remember?” said Hancock, his tone teasing but not unkind. “What are you trying to say?”

“Oh God, it was awful.” Hope swallowed before continuing. “Pickmin was a serial killer and… he was using dead bodies for his… art.”

“Woah, seriously?” Hancock recoiled, his face twisted in horror. “That’s messed up, even for this town. I’ll put the word out to avoid that place.”

“Should be safe enough now, he’s dead,” said Hope. “So are all the raiders. Though I wouldn’t recommend a gallery tour.” A small, haunted laugh escaped her. “Doubt Pickmin’s ‘art’ will have much resale value once those bodies start decaying.”

“You took ‘em out?” Hancock looked impressed. “Good work. You ended up in the abyss, but ya crawled back in one piece.” He dug around in his pockets and withdrew a pouch. “Here’s your money.”

She took it soundlessly.

“Got somethin’ else for ya too,” said Hancock, beckoning her through the doorway. “Follow me.” 

Hope followed without a word, glancing back at Fahrenheit as she stepped through the threshold. The red-haired woman just stared, her face impassive and unreadable.

Hancock led Hope across town and down a little alley beside the Memory Den to a door concealing a cramped elevator. It was sealed with a code lock, his fingers finding the right buttons easily in the gloom. He ushered her through first, squeezing himself into the opposite corner as Dogmeat wove his way in to sit between their legs.

“Where are we going?” she asked, as the doors groaned shut.

“It’s a surprise,” said Hancock, with a cheeky wink. “Nothin’ nefarious, don’t worry.”

“You have a reputation for the nefarious?” said Hope, a bit of her own spark returning to her eyes.

“Oh, you got no idea,” Hancock rumbled, leaning a little closer just as the elevator jerked to a stop. He stepped through the door as it opened with a chime, throwing his arms wide as he walked into a tiny but neatly-furnished apartment. “Tada!” he sang. “Welcome to your new home in Goodneighbor.”

Hope stood in the elevator door, staring around as every coherent thought abandoned her.

“This… is for me?” she said.

“For the Minutemen, technically,” Hancock said with a small shrug of his shoulders.

Hope walked forward, taking in the little space. It was tidy and surprisingly nice, softly lit by a warm ceiling light. More light spilled in from the streetlamps outside through a large wrought iron window looking over Goodneighbor. A double bed was tucked into one corner, a red velvet curtain separating it from the rest of the space. Dogmeat sniffed around a small but well-equipped kitchenette, with a stove, a pantry and a fridge. A few shelves and a work desk with a terminal had been squeezed in as well. To her right, a glass door concealed a little bathroom within which she saw, with a shiver of excitement, what looked like a shower.

It was pleasant. Truly, refreshingly pleasant. She could scarcely believe it was real.

“Did this belong to Finn?” she asked, thinking that perhaps his death was the reason Hancock could offer her such a space. Hancock laughed.

“Oh, hell no! Finn didn’t have the friends ya need to score a place like this. No, it’s mine, but I got my own digs upstairs at the Statehouse. This place only ever got used for entertainin’, uh…” he cleared his throat, a devious expression on his face. “…special guests. Figure I can make do without it.”

Hope was floored. It was Hancock’s love nest?

“Wow, Hancock, are you sure?”

“Told ya I believe in what you’re doin’, sister,” he said, patting her shoulder. “Commonwealth was a better place with the Minutemen around. Consider this my contribution to the cause. Somewhere for you and yours to sleep safe and freshen up when you’re passin’ by this way.”

“Oh my God, I…” Hope struggled to find the words to express her bewildered gratitude. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Hope carried on, doing her best through shock and exhaustion to give voice to how much his generosity meant. “This is the nicest little space I’ve been in since I woke up to this hell, I don’t know what to say, its…” She wandered over to the bed and pressed down on the mattress, startled by how deliciously soft it was. “Oh God, it’s a real bed.”

Hancock chuckled warmly from behind her, the sound sending an unexpected tingle down her spine. “Well, I’ll leave ya to get acquainted with it,” he said, before turning back toward the door. “Oh yeah, check the fridge tomorrow mornin’. Left a little somethin’ there for ya.”

“Hey, Hancock?” Hope asked, a nervous quiver in her voice.

“Yeah?”

Hope had spoken before she could stop herself. She certainly didn’t want the kind of ‘entertaining’ he usually used this apartment for, but she also didn’t want to be alone with her rather vivid imagination after everything she’d just seen. Nor did she want him to know that, reluctant to be perceived as weak. She froze for a moment, then chose to play it safe.

“Thanks again,” she said, with a tired smile.

Hancock shot her another wink. “You’re welcome. Again.” He fished around in a pocket, withdrawing a cigarette box and leaving it on the coffee table. “Sleep well.”

“That was fast,” said Fahrenheit, in a deadpan tone, when Hancock returned to the Statehouse.

“Damn, feelin’ brutal tonight, are we?” Hancock laughed and put a hand to his chest, mock-wounded. “Have a little faith Fahrenheit, that ain’t what why I went with her. She don’t strike me as a tourin’ kinda woman, and I ain’t gonna jeopardise a potential alliance with the Minutemen by thinkin’ with my dick. Not with the Brotherhood loomin’ over us.”

“Fair,” said Fahrenheit. She took an inhaler of Jet from the table as Hancock sprawled out on the couch opposite hers, grabbing his own hit on the way. As the fumes dissipated, she spoke again. “So, when she said Pickmin and the raiders were all dead… how many do you reckon she took out?”

“Didn’t ask,” said Hancock. “She looked pretty fuckin’ spooked.”

“Well, she survived,” said Fahrenheit. “That’s more than I expected. You give her some Med-X or something for the shock?”

“Nah,” said Hancock. “Vault dwellers can be weird about that shit, didn’t wanna overstep. Left some nice cigarettes up there though. The good stuff the caravans bring from the South.”

Fahrenheit hummed a small sound of assent before they both fell into a familiar, companionable silence, their night stretching pleasantly through an assortment of chems, booze and a wordless game of chess.

Hope felt exhaustion crash over her in a wave as soon as Hancock left. She unclipped her combat armour piece and stripped out of her bloodied vault suit, stained with the nightmarish butchery she’d waded through, and opened the glass door to the little bathroom. A cold shower would only add to the bone-deep chill she’d felt since walking out of Pickmin’s, but she was covered in dirt and blood, and desperate to be clean. She turned on the shower and a weak but steady spray sputtered from it. Thankful for the sheer convenience of running water, she disrobed from her underthings. She was prepared to brace herself for a quick and frantic duck and scrub under the cold stream when she noticed steam rising.

“Oh my God, warm water?” she said in disbelief, slipping into it with a blissful moan. Never before had a warm shower seemed so absurdly luxurious. She grabbed a bar of soap and took her time scrubbing herself cleaner than she had been in weeks, blood and dirt swirling down the drain and out of sight. Then she pulled the vault suit in with her, rubbing soap into every stain and wringing the gore from it. The fancy, high-tech fabric dried quickly, and she knew it should be good by morning. By the time she was done, the water had begun to cool a little. Probably for the best, she figured, or she’d never leave the shower.

Hope was barely awake as she dried herself. By the time she crawled into the soft bed, Dogmeat already stretched out and snoring along the end of it, she had no energy left for the horrors of the day to play out in her mind.

She fell gently and immediately into a dreamless slumber.

---

Hope awoke the next morning having forgotten the apocalypse. She was clean, warm and dry, snuggled in a soft bed with the dawn light falling gently on her face.

Then a gunshot rang out, and she remembered.

She opened her eyes, realised there was no way for the gunshot to be in the room, grabbed a pillow from beside her, shoved it over her head, and went back to sleep.

When Hope woke again an hour later, the dawn sun had grown brighter with the morning, and the communal babble of the voices on the street below rose gently to rouse her. She lay there, drifting in and out of slumber for a few more minutes, before standing with a slow stretch and pulling on a robe she found hanging by the door. The cigarette box Hancock had left her caught her eye. She picked it up, noticing an unfamiliar logo stamped on the front. ‘Tato Hills Tobacco.’

She pulled one out and lit it, taking a deep draw and breathing out with a long, indulgent sigh. These weren’t two-hundred year old scavenged packets of cigarettes, turned half-dust with time. These were fresh. They also tasted of more than just tobacco - a floral, earthier flavour going straight to her head with a mellow haze. She melted into the couch and wondered if this was a blend or if, like the tato, some mutant hybrid of tobacco and marijuana was the dominant surviving strain of smokable plant.

She realised, too, why Hancock had left them there for her last night, given what she’d just walked out of.

Another little gesture of kindness.

After enjoying her not-quite-a-cigarette, Hope opened the fridge door and was surprised to be met by a puff of cold air. A slight antiseptic smell told her it had been recently scrubbed clean. The middle shelf held an assortment of re-usable screw-top tins and preserving jars, with labels tied around their middles. The top shelf had been removed in favour of hooks holding strips of dried meat. But what drew her eye first was a bright purple hubflower sitting atop one of the tins, a folded note propped against its side. Hope took it with a smile. It was written in a somewhat clumsy yet flamboyant script.

Morning sunshine, The food in the tins and jars is all preserved stuff. Pickles, soups, potted meats. They should keep for about a year in the fridge, maybe a few months on the road. Take them with you, or leave them for when you or yours are passing through. The tin with the flower holds a little something I made for you to start the day with. Hope you enjoy. Hancock

Hope smiled. The man couldn’t help but flirt even when he wasn’t there. Perhaps she’d completely taken leave of her senses - he was definitely a playboy - and heaven only knew she’d had her share of those before the war, each tryst ending in disaster. But wise or not, she had to admit the attention made her slightly giddy. Nothing she couldn’t ignore, but nice nevertheless.

She took the tin and opened it carefully. It was a stewed mix of a few different boiled grains and slices of root vegetables in a light purplish sauce, with strips of meat Hope figured she probably didn’t want to know the origin of. She gave it a careful sniff. It smelled decent enough - savoury, with sweeter notes of spices she didn’t recognise.

‘At least it won’t be poisonous’, she thought, as she emptied it into a saucepan and tried the gas cooker. That worked as well, and soon the little apartment was filled with the scent of whatever it was Hancock had cooked up.

Once she had it bubbling she took it from the stove, emptied it into a bowl, and tried a careful spoonful.

A primal groan escaped her at the taste. It was by far the nicest food she’d eaten since she’d left the vault. Perfectly balanced between savoury and sweet, and spiced to mouthwatering effect. She began to shovel it down like a starving woman before catching herself and deliberately slowing her pace. Something as delicious as this deserved to be savoured.

Far too soon, she was scraping the bottom of the bowl. She put it down for Dogmeat to lick before scanning the room for anything else he could eat. There was a pantry to the side, filled with more jars and little sacks of grains and lentils. A few tins of pre-war dog food were set toward the back. She cracked one open for him and emptied it out into the bowl he had just finished licking.

With Dogmeat taken care of, Hope showered again, enjoying every decadent drop of warm water to hit her skin. Once she was dried and dressed in her newly-clean vault suit, she whistled for Dogmeat to follow and pressed the button for the elevator. She didn’t want to leave this little slice of heaven, but Hancock had given it to her for a reason. She had to find work so she could make the caps she needed… both for the Minutemen, and for Shaun.

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

It takes a mob pt. 7

Previous

First

Ao3

Bill thought the kid’s first introduction went pretty well all things considered.

“Well aren’t you a littl’ dumpling? Yes, yes you are. Oh you’re going to be so distracting! I need to call in Gabe. Bill! Who’s his mother? Why is he here!?”

With a grunt he placed another bag on the rack,

“Why do you assume it’s mine?!”

“Well, he ain’t Marv’s, that’s dam for sure! And he better not be Kenny’s! I taught him better than that and I am too dam young to be a Great-granny!”

Bill smacked a snickering Marv as he exited the pantry.

Me-mah was gently swaying to an invisible beat as she worked around the baby on her hip. Danny giggled as he watched the old woman make a roux. Earning himself a peck on the head.

Contrary to what she claimed, Me-mah wasn’t hindered in the slightest, she may have been twirling around but she still held the kitchen with the same iron grip.

Even if said grip was one arm less than usual.

Bill sighed as wiped his brow,

“It ain’t like that Me-mah..”

“Oh did a saucy littl’ minx run out on you? Do in need my boomstick?”

“No No! Ain’t like that! No need for the stick!”

The lady huffed as she went to check on the stock.

“So, then what’s it like? Information is important sonny!”

Marv joined Bill on a stool before butting in,

“There ain’t a lot of information to go around mad’m.”

“Oh?”

Me-mah shifted Danny onto her other hip as she turned,

“How’s that?”

The two men shared an awkward glance as Marv continued on,

“Me-Mah I-, there’s really no easy way to put this. You see-“

“We found him in a garage can.”

Bill decided to take over,

“Had nothing on him but crusty cape.”

Me-mah stopped swaying, much to the displeasure of Danny, and with a gentle ease switched the heat to low.

“Me-mah?”

“Bill, do you mind taking back your son now?”

Bill hesitated for a second,

“He’s not really- “

“Now. William.”

Bill took back the kid.

With a deep breath Me-mah reached under her table,

“Woah Me-mah! There wasn’t shit in the alley way!”

Marv stated as he raised his hands in placating manner,

“They were long gone by the time we walked by and that was hours ago-“

“I’m well aware Marven.”

The lady loaded the auto shotgun in a precise manner,

“Like how I’m well ware I am not a bat. That being said-.”

She cocked the gun,

“If I do not work my frustrations out somewhere then I can’t exactly put my all into the cooking. The soup can simmer.The gun range will do.”

~~~~~~~~~

Ken made his way over to the other guys as they once again wrapped Danny back up in the corner. Marv stood in front of Bill, blocking sight.

“So how was every thing in the kitchen?”

“THAT GODDAM MOTHER FUCKIN’ FLOOZY!!”

Several goons flinched as buckshot could be heard making target.

A quiet muttering of Jesus Christ.. being came from the closest goon to the trio.

“WE’VE BEEN WORKING THESE STREETS FOR TO GODDAM LONG FOR DAT!!”

Bang

“WE AND THE WAYNES”

Bang

“HAVE NOT POURED OUR SWEAT AND TEARS INTO POLISHING UP THIS HELL HOLE!”

The sound of a heavy knife meeting its mark joined the fray,

“TO HAVE SUCH SHIT HAPPEN AGAIN!”

Another shot,

“Jesus fuckin’ crisis, what the fuck did you two do?!”

Ken hissed,

“What did you expect us to do? Hide something from her?”

“When it makes her this angry? Yes!”

“How could we know that she would react this way to the kid’s backstory? Marv isn’t psychic last time I checked.”

Bill finally zipped up the coat and stepped into the open.

“WE GOT BOXES FOR THIS SHIT! INSULATED!”

Bang

“BOXES!”

Bang

“WITH ALARMS!”

One last shot rang out as the old woman finally lost steam. The only thing that could be be heard was her exhausted breaths as she hobbled out of the range.

“As... interesting as that was to hear.”

A voice piped up,

“I didn’t expect such a welcome back.”

Eyes turned up to the warehouse window as the boss made his entrance.

“Everything alright Me-mah?”

The cook let out an embarrassed huff before calling back

“Nothing I can’t handle sonny. Sorry about that.”

“No problem granny, but whoever was the two idiots helping tonight, I expect you in to be in my office with a good reason.”

Fist wave of hoodlums:

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[timechange]

MCFLY JULY ‘24 — on the radio.

JULY 15, 1989

Marty sighs, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. He flexes his hands, rolling his shoulders, trying to work the kink out of his back before getting back to work. That’s pretty much the only downside of tinkering around with various unfinished projects of Doc’s; way too many hours spent hunched over. 

“That was Tom Petty with ‘I Won’t Back Down’ here on KWHV 108.3 and I’m your host, Jamie Lee.” The deejay’s voice is sweet and smooth, and he remembers, warmth creeping across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, that Jamie Lee was his first crush. As if it wasn’t enough she was the coolest girl inside the halls of Hill Valley High, outside of school she was the best basketball player and had the best music taste. A triple threat for sure. 

“Next up we’ve got something kinda special: a new group that’s been soaring through the charts and sent the music world spinning with their electrifying debut.” 

Marty feels his heart quicken in his chest and tries to tell himself to calm down, the radio static buzzing in his head. He drops the screwdriver, which clatters to the table clumsily. There’s no way. There’s absolutely no way in hell she could be talking about–

“So, without further ado, with their lead single ‘Strangerland’ off their album 88, give it up for Hill Valley’s very own hometown boys, McFly and the Flyaways!’ 

His stomach drops. He’d recognize that opening riff anywhere.

“Future sight can’t help me tonight, tired of waitin’ for time to restart–”

“Holy shit,” he breathes. “Holy shit!” he exclaims, leaping to his feet and not even caring that he hits his head on the way up. “Doc! DOC!” 

He only feels a little bad when the door gets kicked open and his best friend bursts into the room like he’s goddamn Batman, clad in safety goggles instead of a cape and wielding a fire extinguisher instead of a Batarang. 

“MARTY!” Doc cries, looking around like a man possessed, frantic in his search for some threat. “What is it? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

He runs to the scientist, grasping his upper arms. His face hurts from smiling so much. 

“Doc! Doc, listen!”

“—ghosts in my head, there’s a ghost in the mirror that I see instead—" comes his own voice a moment later. 

Marty bows his head, grip momentarily tightening. There’s a lump in his throat and when he looks up at Doc again, his blue eyes are watery.

“My song, Doc,” he whispers. An awestruck, dumbstruck, disbelieving smile on his face makes him look all of thirteen again and he couldn’t care less. He lets out a laugh that’s a little too close to a sob for comfort. “They’re playing my song.” 

The fire extinguisher falls to the ground with a thud as Doc returns the embrace, holding Marty at arm’s length so tightly he thinks he’ll wake up with bruises in the morning. If Marty thought his own smile was big and stupid, it had nothing on Doc’s. 

“Do you know what this means?” he murmurs. 

“You were right,” Marty replies. “All the stuff you said to me.” 

“If you put your mind to it…” Doc starts, gently.

“…You can accomplish anything,” Marty finishes. 

The chorus starts, crackly over the radio, but it’s the greatest thing he’s ever heard. 

“Oh, I’m lost in my dreams, fallin' apart at the seams, and time is slippin' through my hand

But I got somethin' to prove, so what have I got to lose?

I'm gonna make it outta this

Strangerland!

I gotta make it outta this

Strangerland!” 

“Woah,” Marty laughs, tears sliding down his face. “This is heavy.” 

Doc pulls him into a bone-crushing hug which he eagerly returns, the instrumentation that took them weeks to nail blaring in the background.

“You did it, Marty. You made it.”

“I made it,” Marty repeats, as if it’ll make it feel more real. He feels lighter than air and like he’s buzzing with electricity, like he’s flying over a thundercloud. “Holy shit, I made it.” A sudden realization shocks him and his eyes widen. “I-I gotta tell the guys!”

“Go on, go on!” Doc encourages, letting him go, watching him fondly as he almost trips over his feet and the rug trying to make it to the phone in Doc and Clara’s library and study. 

However, it’s already ringing when he gets there. 

“Yo!” he greets, out of force of habit.

“Marty!” his dad’s warm voice responds. 

“Marty, honey, turn on the radio, quick!” his mom jumps in. “They’re playing it! Your, um, your Stranger in a Strange Land song!” 

“It’s your song, kiddo!” His dad sounds full to bursting with joy. “And boy, does it sound great!” 

He laughs, using his thumb and forefinger in a fruitless attempt to try to stem the flow of tears.

“Thanks, guys.”

“Oh, sweetheart, we’re so happy for you. And so proud of you, too, so proud.” His mom sounds like she’s about to cry, too. “Linda’s taping it and everything and Dave has it playing at the office!”

“We love you, son,” his dad reminds him, “and you’ll be home for dinner, right?”

“Yeah, Dad. I will. Love you too.”