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msgexymunson · 1 year ago

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Forbidden Fruit Part 2

Description: Saying it's been awkward after your experience with Eddie Munson is an understatement. How will you survive a trip together?

A/N: WELL, you liked the first part so much I had to write part 2! Potential for a part 3 and 4 if you guys want it. If you do y'all better reblog ;)

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI or I'll tell a teacher on you, a LOT of angst, hella smut, fluff if you squint, voyeurism, spit play, hair pulling, fem oral receiving, p in v unprotected sex (don't be a dumb dumb) rough sex

4k words

Masterlist Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

It has been two weeks. Two weeks since your sordid encounter with your Dad's best friend. You thought about it every day, every hour. It has embedded itself into your mind like steel wool, an unscratchable itch that you're almost certain will never go away.

You'd only seen Eddie twice in that whole time. That was odd in itself, he only lived across the road. He was usually around every couple of days, even if it was to just have a coffee and a chat with your father. It felt very much like he was trying to make himself scarce.

The first time was barely even a glimpse; he'd been leaving his house as you'd been heading to college, driving there since it was close enough for you to still stay at home. You'd sent him a shy wave which was not returned. He just got in his car and reversed like a demon, tires screeching as he drove down the road.

The second time you were in the kitchen on your tippy toes, trying to reach the cereal that someone had placed on the top shelf as if to spite you. Feeling eyes on you, you looked around and saw him standing in the doorway.

"Eddie."

He ignored it, strode in and grabbed the cereal box with ease, slamming it on the counter in front of you with too much force making you flinch.

You tried again, fingers lightly resting on his arm.

"Eddie, I-"

"Don't." Was all he said, pulling his arm away as if you'd burned him. Tears had stung the corners of your eyes as he left without a look back. You'd abandoned your snack and ran upstairs to your room, to cry in peace.

So it was no surprise at all when you overheard your Dad saying Eddie was coming over to watch the game and it felt like your stomach dropped out from under you. You hid in your room, not wanting to face another gruff encounter whilst your stomach rumbled its dissent.

This is fucking stupid. He'd said that was it, you need to get over it. You shouldn't be scared to go into your own damn kitchen.

Steeling your nerves you go downstairs and start to make yourself a sandwich. You could hear Eddie's laugh echo from the TV room and it twisted a knife in your gut.

Your dad's voice rang out over the noise of the TV.

"You free next weekend Eddie?"

Oh fucking shit. You knew what he was talking about. You pray that Eddie says he's busy.

"Free as a bird, why what's happening?"

"Mandy's invited us to her lake house for the long weekend. You fancy a trip?"

Even from here you can sense Eddie's hesitation.

"Oh, I'm not sure that's a good idea?"

"Why? It'll be fun! I'm sure Mandy's got a thing for you, you know."

"Yeah, sure, I suppose I could come."

Fuck.

********************

Cue the most uncomfortable car ride in your life, squashed in the back seat with Eddie and thankfully a duffel bag in between providing a slight buffer. He was hunched in his seat, barely making eye contact with you.

Your mom turned in the passenger seat to face you.

"You alright Hon? You've hardly said a word."

"I'm fine, mom."

"You know, Jake will probably be there, Mandy's boy?" She waggled her eyebrows at you.

Rolling your eyes, you reply, "he's a little, young for me."

"He's a year older than you! I thought you liked him?"

"He's fine, it's just… he's a boy." And I need a man. One particular man.

You couldn't fail to hear Eddie's snorting laugh that he tried to disguise as a cough.

As you arrive at the lake house, you rush out of the car to breathe air that wasn't laced with the scent of Eddie. Your thighs hurt from squeezing them together for the past two hours.

"Hey! Welcome!" Mandy's waving at you all as you get your bag from the car.

Your mom runs over and gives her a hug.

"Hey! So good to see you! Where's Jake?"

"Oh, he's come down with something, poor boy, he couldn't make it."

Well, there goes the plan you had wistfully thought of to make Eddie jealous.

Mandy shows everyone to their rooms. The lake house is gorgeous. Mandy must have gotten some huge settlement from her divorce. Your room is small but comfortable, a double bed, wardrobe and side tables all in a deep wood. The walls are wood panelled too, carvings of little animals and leaves all over. It puts you in mind of being in an enormous cuckoo clock.

Changing into your swimsuit, you grab a towel and head towards the lake for a swim.

This felt better. At least you could cool off, trying to escape the heat from the sun as well as the heat between your legs. The water is crisp and cold as you swim until you're shivering.

As you exit the water, arms tired, you look up to see Eddie on the deck, watching you.

You need to speak with him, try and clear the air. Moving towards him he stubs the cigarette he'd been smoking out and turns on his heel back to the house.

Anger started to bubble up, acidic in your throat. How dare he give you the most amazing sex of your life and just throw you away like some slut. You'd eaten in your room that night, feigning exhaustion.

Tip toeing out to grab a drink from downstairs thinking everyone had gone to bed, you hear the tinkle of laughter.

There he was, sitting on the couch with Mandy. She was fawning over him pathetically, her hand stroking his arm that rested on the back of the seat.

Great. Just great. Now he'll fuck Mandy and get married and live right opposite you with her. Fantastic.

Grabbing a water you flounced off to bed in a huff.

********************

Sitting up at the breakfast bar, you'd plastered your bravest face on and ate some pancakes, cutting them into little pieces and nibbling like a rabbit.

Eddie sauntered in, saying good morning to everyone, then he was taking a seat on the bar stool opposite you.

"Morning sweetheart."

You flashed angry eyes at him, and looked away, delivering a clipped "morning."

It was enough to shut him up. He filled a plate with pancakes and bacon, picking up a rasher and tearing into it with his teeth. Then he did the same with a pancake, ripping it into four and shoving a piece in his mouth.

He looked like a caveman. It was half amusing, and half a turn on. Watching him eat like an animal was doing something for you.

Mandy looked less amused.

"Um, there is cutlery, right there." She snipped.

"I know." He ignored the knives and forks, picking up the next piece of bacon and plunging it into his mouth. Your mom and dad shared an amused look.

He licked bacon grease off his fingers while looking straight at you, making your cheeks rapidly grow in heat. All you could think was that you wanted to wrestle that piece of bacon out of his mouth with your tongue, to smear your greasy lips together and have him throw you down on the counter top and fuck you until you see stars.

"Just going to get ready." You mumble, excusing yourself.

God damn why am I so wet? A shower, that'll help.

You stand under the stream of slightly too cold water and try to wrench the images away, but they are coming thick and fast.

Greasy fingers running over your skin. That tongue turning you into a whimpering mess. Plates smashing on the floor, food flying everywhere as he lifts you on the counter top and fucks you like an animal. The shower head was looking extremely tempting right now.

Right, get it out of your system, then face the day.

You unclip the shower head and turn the heat up slightly, moving the warm stream of water to your expectant lips. The water makes you gasp as you move the shower head around, finding your clit with a whimper.

And then the door flies open. Eddie stands there, frozen, face blushed the deepest pink.

You shout, "don't you know how to knock??" At the same time Eddie's rather hoarse voice yells "are you trying to kill me??"

Quickly exiting, he slams the door shut.

You hear your father call up to ask what's wrong. Eddie's muffled voice responds.

"Nothing, I just made your daughter jump."

The clipped emphasis on the word daughter rings in your head. You're unsure for whose benefit that was.

Am I trying to kill him? He's the one that barged in on me!! Why the fuck is he upset?

For the rest of the day you ignore him, opting to spend some quality time with your mom, attempting to push the weird encounter out of your head.

In the evening your parents announce they are going into town to a bar with Mandy.

"Eddie, you coming?" Your dad asks.

"No, I'm good, got a headache. Think I'll have an early night."

When everyone leaves you retire to your room, putting on some music and reading a book. You start to drift away, losing yourself in the words, feeling comfortable and less on edge.

There's a soft knock at the door. Ignoring it, you flick to the next page. Another, more insistent knock. Huffing and pulling your silk dressing gown around you, making sure everything important is covered, you shout out.

"Yeah?"

The door opens, and Eddie's standing there, looking very sorry for himself. He's only wearing a pair of sweatpants slung low on his hips, muscular frame and tattoos fully displayed.

"Can I come in?"

"So you can knock. What do you want?"

"Look, I want to apologise to you, I've been acting like an asshole."

You nod in agreement, eyes going back to your book, words a blur.

"You really have a headache?"

"No."

"Shame."

"Mandy kissed me last night, invited me back to her room."

Why the fuck is he telling you this?

"Oh yeah? how was she?" You spit back, venom lacing each word.

"I wouldn't know, I didn't go."

Speechless, you return his gaze. He comes into your room, shutting the door behind him, but doesn't move any further.

"Sweetheart, I can't stop thinking about you, about what we did. I've been fucking my fist like a teenager thinking about you. That's why I've been avoiding you. I smelled your perfume the other day and I got fuckin' hard. You weren't even there. It's pathetic."

A small smile creeps onto your face, smug to have had such an effect on him. You sit on the edge of the bed, leaning back on your hands as he explains further.

"I really want you, but we can't do this. It's so wrong. If your dad finds out I'm a dead man."

"Hey, he'll kill me too!" You respond.

"No sweetheart. He'd be disappointed in you. I'd be blamed for it. For- for defiling his daughter!"

You laugh out loud at that and his lips quirk into a nearly smile.

"You make it sound like you forced yourself on me. I kissed you first."

"True, but I asked. If I hadn't-"

"Eddie, trust me, sooner or later, I would have jumped your bones."

"Really?" He asks, surprised.

"Really. You're super hot." You admit.

His hand rubs the back of his neck compulsively. You see the nerves then, etched into his features, deepening the fine lines on his face.

Just his sheer presence is making your pussy pulse.

He walks over to you, standing over your form. Staring up at him, he looks like he wants to devour you whole.

"We can't do this, you know." He says again, but his hand is reaching to the tie of your dressing gown, pulling it undone. The flimsy fabric parts down your middle, showing a sliver of skin from your chest to your navel.

You nod back, breath hitching in your throat. "Yeah, we really shouldn't."

You let the dressing gown slip over your shoulder, exposing your left side, pert breast on display. Eddie groans.

"This is wrong." But his hand has other plans, sliding the other side off of your shoulder, so you're sitting there completely naked for him, gown pooling around your back.

"Yep. Super wrong. Naughty." You say, legs parting slightly. Eddie's smirk is debaucherous as he sinks to his knees in front of you, pulling your legs even wider.

Preamble forgotten, he forces his head between your legs and licks a fat stripe up your cunt. Throwing your head back at the onslaught of his tongue, you dig your heels into his back, forcing him closer if it were even possible.

"How the fuck," he says between dirty kisses to your clit, "do you taste so fucking good?"

He doesn't seem to want an answer, and you're entirely not in the position to provide one. You just mewl and buck into his face pathetically, lacing your fingers into his hair and gripping on.

His tongue is everywhere, devouring you. It's messy, messier than you ever thought getting head could be. You could feel his spit and your own juices dripping down the crevice of your ass.

Legs quivering, you moan wantonly, gripping onto him with everything you have. He's moaning into you, almost as loud as you were.

Then he's pressing the flat of his tongue against your clit, his firm hands gripping your ass, grinding your body against his face. The pure, unbridled need pouring from him had you toppling over that edge.

"Holy fucking shit, Eddie!"

The intensity and power of your orgasm shocks you to your core, spilling out in a slew of profanities, limbs twitching uncontrollably.

Eddie doesn't stop licking into you until you drag him away by his hair.

Eddie's face is a picture, dripping with slick; his smile is broad, lighting up his face as if he'd just been to heaven and tasted the finest ambrosia.

He leans over you, hooking one finger into your mouth, pulling at your jaw.

"Open."

Your jaw flops open at his command. He spits then, directly into your mouth. Eyes widening in surprise, you taste the savoury edge of his spit intermingled with the sweet tang of your cunt as it slides down your tongue.

"Swallow." He orders, eyes dark.

You close your lips around his finger, swallowing hard and sucking the tip of his finger.

"Fuck you are perfect, my dirty fucking girl." He says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You moan at his words, breath speeding up, feeling dizzy and hot all over.

"You like that don't you? Being a dirty girl?" He smirks.

"I like being yours." You admit, feeling slightly bashful.

He cups your face gently with his hand, a queer look in his eye, before leaning towards your ear and whispering, "mine."

Writhing under him, pinned by his body, you can only whimper as he sinks teeth into your neck.

Pushing a needy tongue in your mouth, he gives you an earth shattering kiss, of salt and cigarettes and sweetness. You reciprocate, hands running over naked flesh as you push your chest against him.

"I need you. Now." He says as he climbs off, frantically pulling his sweatpants off and flinging them to the side, his impressive member standing almost painfully to attention.

You give a startled yelp as he grabs you by the ankles and flips you over.

"Hands and knees for me, my good girl."

You scramble on all fours, waiting for the breach of his tip, when you feel his thumb press on your asshole.

"Fuck, Eddie!" You shout. It had made you jump, but you couldn't deny that you liked it.

"Bet you'd let me fuck you in the ass if I asked sweetheart." Entirely unprepared for that, you whip your head around. He just laughs.

"Don't worry, not tonight baby." He says as he rubs his tip over your folds, spreading your wetness even further.

Then he's pushing and pushing into you, balls deep. You both let out a groan of satisfaction as he starts ploughing into you hard and rough.

"This pussy is fuckin unreal," you hear him mutter behind you, gripping on your hips so tight its bordering on painful. You allow yourself to be used, pushing back into him as much as you can, but it's impossible keeping up with his brutal pace.

Feeling your hands stiff against the bed, your elbows are shaking, on the edge of giving up. You feel Eddie's hand gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail and twist it in his hand, pulling you upright. A lightning bolt shoots down your spine at the animalistic gesture.

He's now hitting that sweet spot inside you on each thrust, the slapping of skin and slick echoing through the room with your pornographic moans.

"Oh God, Eddie, I'm gonna come-"

"No, no please," he slows, letting go of your hair, making you fall to the bed.

"I need to see it, I need to see you. Turn around."

You turn, feeling him slip out of you, and shove him to the side, hard. It takes him entirely by surprise and he falls onto his back, hands up as if he's afraid he did something wrong.

Taking his shock as an opportunity you clamber on his lap, gripping his swollen cock hard at the base, lining him up with your entrance. Eddie's look of surprise turns into a lecherous grin, hands resting on your waist.

Sitting on him, sheathing him once again within your silky walls, you look him in the eye.

"How dare you mess with my orgasm again." Your words are hard, but you're smiling.

He laughs, rubbing at your hips.

"Oh I'm sorry, my poor sweetheart," words positively dripping sarcasm, complete with pouting lower lip. Clenching around his cock, you struggle to even register that him mocking you is such a turn on.

You push at his chest with one hand, and start grinding into him, firm and slow. Eddie looks like he's about to bust already at your movements, eyes darting from your own, to your tits, to your cunt.

"What- what were you thinking of? In the shower?" His words have a quiver to them, a flash of pride bursts across your chest at the fact you're doing this to him, getting him in such a state.

"I was thinking," you say breathlessly, "about tongue wrestling that bit of bacon out of your mouth and you fucking me on the kitchen counter."

"Fuuuck" He replies, eyes rolling back, "you are something else."

All of a sudden it's hitting just right. You don't feel like you'd moved but it's definitely different. Your whole body is buzzing with sensation as you roll your hips against him. Needing to grip onto something, anything, you don't risk changing the angle and instead twine your fingers into your own hair.

"Oh my God, oh fuckfuckfuck!"

Eddie's mouth hangs open as he watches you unravel. You feel your entire body pulse out what may be the best orgasm of your life. It rolls in waves around you, over you, through you. Grinding down hard, you keep it going. And going. Until it stops, or nearly stops. It's as if you are looking down at that edge yet again, on the brink of falling off.

"Fuck Eddie don't you dare move," you struggle out, rubbing over him, juices squelching obscenely with each thrust of your hips. He's beyond words, just biting his lip and nodding.

"Oh fuck I'm gonna come again, oh!"

Screaming into the night, it forces out of you again, almost as powerful as the last one. Your whole body is shaking like a leaf, completely stunned. Realising you're still gripping into your hair, you let go, feeling a sting on your scalp.

"Holy shit." You laugh out, limbs convulsing of their own accord.

"That was, fuck sweetheart, that's the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life."

You smile, fingers stroking up and down his chest.

"Think you can give me one more?" He asks, eyebrows raising.

"Eddie, I don't-"

"Shh, sweetheart, just one more, I'm gonna come, come with me."

You begin to grind, moving against his length once more, clit dragging across slickened hair making you whimper. Your legs are protesting but you want to give it to him.

He helps you, hands on your hips dragging you back and forth, praising every thrust.

"That's it baby."

"Just a little more."

"You can take it."

"My good sweet girl."

Until you release again, together, wetness squirting out of you, voice hoarse with a stuttered moan that seemed to bubble up from deep inside your chest cavity. Eddie groans out, hissing at the feeling as he releases his cum deep into your cunt.

Melting, a puddle of a woman, your body pours over his, bones a distant memory.

"I think my soul left my body for a minute there," you murmur into his sweaty neck. His laugh rumbles from his chest and vibrates into yours, hand resting sweetly on the back of your head.

Both laying there for a minute, you know what needs to happen, but you're loath to admit it. Reality is looming and neither of you want to look it in the eye.

Eddie breaks the spell.

"I need to go sweetheart," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"I know." You whisper back. Neither of you move.

"Did you mean it?" You ask, voice as small as you can muster.

"What?"

"That I'm yours?"

You feel Eddie's breath, the silence stretching just a little too much. You stop breathing in anticipation. Finally, he responds.

"Yes. Yes I meant it."

Masterlist

Tag List (If you want to stay on the list, please reblog!)

@hereforshmut @g4ys0n @winchester-angel @eddiemunson95 @corrodedcoffincumslut @shazzie33 @severusswife @daluamaia1 @callsignraver @lightvixxen @newlips @eddiethefreakkmunson @hollster88 @ali-r3n @bebe07011 @roanniom @eddiesprincess86 @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

#ms gexy writes #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff #older!eddie #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfic

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importantstudentbusinessspy-blog · 3 months ago

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Academia - The Gala

Masterlist

Pairing: Aged up Damian Wayne x f reader

Tags: NSFW, academic setting, rivals to lovers, friends with benefits, smut, blowjobs, possessiveness, jealousy, oral, p in v, semi-pibloc sex,

Side note: can y'all tell I've never been to a Gala before? I don't know how they donate in those things. Please bare with me.

The perp screamed as Damian flipped him onto the ground, making sure the way he landed would be impactful enough to knock him out for at least a minute.

"Fuck! You fucking brat!" The perp chocked out.

Squatting next to him, Damian flipped his staff to rest it against his shoulder blades, hanging both his arms on it. "You see the rest of your crew over there?" He nodded in the direction of four bodies lying down on the floor of the warehouse, then looked back at the perp currently struggling to take a breath. "Not big talkers, apparently. But you -" he grabbed the man by his collar and dragged him towards himself, the perp yelped, blood dripping from his nose as he struggled against Damian's unyielding grip. "You might still make it out of here alive." He finished.

The perp eyed his men nervously, stammering. "D-did you kill them?"

Damian ignored the question. "I'm gonna ask you one last time, Markus. Where is Roman's shipment arriving to?"

The man's eyes widened at the correct use of his name, and he began to shake.

Damian registered a new stench, his upper lip lifted in digust as he stared down a Marcus. "You better not have fucking pissed yourself. That's disgusting."

Marcus looked like he was about to cry. Damian would bet they were tears of shame rather than pain. He grasped the collar tighter, sneering. "Where did the shipment leave to, Marc? While I'm still in a good mood."

"Y-you fucking psycho!" Marcus was crying now. "Do you have any idea what he'll do to me if I tell you?"

"It can't be worse than what I'll do to you if you don't." Damian said before punching the crying man in the nose, making sure to crack something. Marcus cried out in pain.

"Talk." Damian prompted.

Bloody lips trembling, Marcus confessed the address.

Damian nodded, sure to memorize the location. "What time is it coming in?" He asked.

Marcus's features twisted pathetically as he slurred, "Come on, man. I already told you-"

"What time is it coming in?" Damian sneered. Hating to have to repeat himself.

"E-eleven-Thirty!" The criminam cried. "Pick up's at midnight."

Damian stood up then, kicking Marcus right in the nose, making sure to knock him out this time.

"Jesus christ, kid." Jason spoke in his ear. "Remind me to play bats this footage if ever gives me shit about how I do interrogations."

"That won't stop me from giving you shit." Batman's voice came on the line.

Withholding a retort about Jason calling him "kid." All Damian said was, "it's not like I killed him."

"Right, no, of course." The red hood laughed in his comm. "You just re-organized the order his face, much more merciful."

"Ugh, been on the receiving end of that." Dick's voice joined the line. "Now look at oir baby boy, all grown up and graduated from scratching to dislocation."

"Aww." Barbara's voice supplied helpfully.

Damian rolled his eyes. "I was dislocating men twice my size back when you were still running around in a leotard."

He was so grateful he got to work on his own suit, with a fabric that wasn't skin fucking tight had at fully covered him in bulletproof Kevlar yet still allowed for a full range of motion. If he were forced to wear the same suit as his eldest brother, Batman would have been his first victim.

"Oooh there are those claws!" Tim now joined the line, along with Stephanie, who supplied the helpful words: "scratchy scratchy" in the background.

Clearly, his family was having a much less fun night that he and were desperate for some entertainment. Ignoring them, Damian climbed up from the warehouse and onto the roof of a neighboring, taller building to get a better vantage point. The wind ruffled his hair as the sounds of gotham: sirens, choppers, and car horns, as well as the waves from the nearby river filled his ears. Inhaling the cool air and exhaling, the fog from his mouth traveling with the wind. He switched onto a different line. "Oracle, I need coordinates to the Conrad docks port hanger number 9."

"Roger that, Robin. Shall I send for back up?"

"No need." He said. "I can't handle this myself."

And he did. Carrying out a perfect stealth mission and stealing a crate of the new drug that Black Mask was trying to push on the city, along with the files that exposed every crooken cop currently on his payroll. The files found their way to commissioner Gordon's coffee table that night. The corrupt cops were behind bars by morning.

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Damian didn't know how to explain, but he was having a particularly good day. That is, until he heard your name being said by one of the guys from your program.

"There she is. What was her name again?"

"Y/n, I think?" The boy, a skinny eng student from your physics class, was talking to his friend.

Damian followed his gaze to you, sitting by yourself in a yellow checkered blazer and skinny jeans, with a neat ponytail tide by a yellow ribbon. You were sitting on one of the benches at the campus atrium, chewing on a cut-up apple as you read something on your computer, the screen illuminating your face.

"I got two tickets for the howling mystery this Thursday. I'm gonna ask her to go with me."

Like hell. Damian's nostrils flared, and he turned to walk in their direction.

Just as his friend replied sardonically. "She doesn't hit me as the type that listens to hard metal -"

"Hey," they both turned at the sound of Damian's voice. The boy who talked about asking you out straightening up. Unimpressed, Damian trampled him in size. "How are you guys doing?" He asked casually.

"Fine, thanks." The friend replied, looking at Damian in disbelief that he was used to by now. "You?"

"Listen, were you guys just in Atkinson's lecture?" He pointed his thumb in the direction of the room behind himself.

The two guys nodded.

"He's in there right now explaining the Pokhozhaev identity problem that was on the midterm." Damian lied.

Their eyes widened. And one of them asked. "Fuck really?"

Damian nodded. "Yeah. If you hurry, maybe you could still catch him."

"Dude, thanks!" One of them clapped him on the back, and Damian offered them one his signature easygoing smiles as they went down the hall and back into the lecture, none the wiser.

He himself made his way to sit beside you, leaning back on the bench. "Hey,"

You looked up at him, eyes widening when you realized it's him. You quickly collected yourself, offering a poline smile. "Damian, hi."

"What are you doing this Thursday?" He asked.

You thought about it for a moment, checked your calendar to see that your midterms were done by Wednesday. "Nothing, why?"

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You looked at yourself in the mirror, assessing the outfit. The dress you wore was a velvet, red form-fitting one that accentuated your silhouette, it reach the top of your knees with an asymmetrical hem that added an edgy touch, showcasing the velvet knee high black boots under it. A deep neckline showed the gold necklace that you never took off, with its matching earrings - gifts from your parents. You let your hair down, framing your face in subtle curls and draping over your shoukders. Your makeup was subtle with a focus on your eyes and red lipstick. The look you were going for was a combination of chic and classy.

A knock on your door caused you to open it, mouth dropping slightly when you did.

Damian Wayne stood at your doorstep wearing a suit. Confident posture and athletic physique. His tailored suit accentuated his broad shoulders and a trim waist. Sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and those green eyes of his sparkled over you with appreciation. You realized why he'd told you to wear red, a well-chosen tie hung from his neck, matching your dress in color.

"Hey, perfect girl," he gave you an appreciative look.

"Oh wow," you let the words out without thinking. Clearing your throat, you offered a shy smile. "You look really nice."

"Thanks," he put his hand in his pocket, eyes roaming your body, and he shook his head. "So do you. Very nice."

He offered you his hand, and you took it, letting him lead you to his Camaro.

"Will you not be drinking?" You asked, seated at the passenger seat.

"I dont drink." He said.

You nodded, thinking that if he wanted to elaborate, he would have. "I read up about that Gala. It's a charity event to raise money for the new wing in the children's hospital, right?"

"Right."

"I'd like to contribute, if that's still allowed." You said.

Damian smirked to himself, a dimple appearing as his perfect teeth came into view. "Do you know how much Wayne Ent. donated, y/n?"

"No," you confessed.

"You're welcome to contribute, but trust me, they're set for at least the next four years. And that's including construction."

"Wow," you couldn't bring yourself to even inagine the amount that entailed. Suddenly, your donation felt like barely anything. Your shoulders slumped slightly, and then you shook it off. "Well, it doesn't matter. I'd still like to."

He turned to give you a look, the meaning of which you couldn't decipher. "Have you ever donated at a gala before?"

You shookyour head.

He offered you his hand, and you took it.

At last, he spoke. "I'll show you how."

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The way he commanded attention in any room with mere silence should be studied, you thought.

His hand brushed your hip, leading you inside the massive banquet hall. You looked around, and massive chandeliers hung from the intricately painted fresco on the ceiling as the velvet carpet was rolled out under expensive shoes. The sound of chatter and clinging glasses was accompanied by classical music. This was an entirely different world than the one you were used to. Still, you looked around in fascination.

"Is that real Chanel?" Damian's question drew you from your thoughts. You turned to see him eyeing your dress.

You tensed. "... no." You looked down, blushing as you were painfully reminded that someone of his stature could tell the difference. Slightly embarrassed, you quietly confessed, "Mainstream brands can make good knock offs when they want to."

He nodded, gaze drifting back over the crowd. As did you, the sea of people in front of you was clad in high brand designer gowns, suits, and perfumes. Granted, your outfit was by no means cheap, and in fact, it took you a day of work to make up for it. But if he could see that your clothes were a high fashion copy, so could everyone here. In your clothes you felt like you didn't belong. For the first time in your life, you felt... cheap.

You just hoped his lack of a reaction meant a lack of judgment. Damian came both from old money and from new money, as the heir to the top weapons mogul in the world, he was used to a certain standard.

Either way, you may not have been rich but you weren't struggling. Per se.

You glanced at him, about to wonder if he felt embarrassed to be seen with you. But after thinking of it for too long, you realized... you don't care.

Very grateful to both of your parents who worked blue-collar jobs to raise you and your siblings, you learned the value of appearance from a young age. You didn't come from the best neighborhood, but you couldn't tell from the way your family presented itself. Your townhouse was always clean and well decorated. Your mother made sure to always have homemade food and put all of her kids through some kind of extracurricular activities. Which is how you go into maths and sciences. You relied on scholarships and the goodness of your teachers to make it where you did. And you never wished things were different; your life made you who you were today.

So what if you didn't wear designer brands? You had immaculate fashion sense even if it was affordable.

And suddenly, you caught yourself smiling. Suddenly, everyone's facial expressions didn't look so judgmental. Someone cleared their throat beside you, and you turned to face a beautiful couple.

The man was immediately recognizable. Matching in height with Damian, Bruce Wayne looked every bit the billionaire playboy in his classic black suit jacket, accessorized with golden cufflinks, crisp white shirt, and a black bow tie. His hair was stylized and polished. Sharp facial features, visibly similar to his son's, and a well-groomed stubble enhanced his masculine charm. He held a confident, charismatic expression that exuded mystery.

He held by the waist a woman in an elegant, form-fitting black evening gown with a daring cut at the front. Her hair was styled in an updo. A statement necklace hung around her neck. Her look complemented Bruce's style while showcasing her own elegance. She gave youband Damian a knowing smile.

"Y/n, this is my father." Damian introduced you.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Wayne." You smiled at his father and offered to shake his hand.

He took your hand in a firm grip. "Y/n," his deep voice, also similar to Damian's, greeted you. "You interned for Wayne Industries this summer, am I correct?"

"Yes," you nodded eagerly. "In R&D. It was an amazing opportunity, sir. You run a truly unique organization."

Bruce's grin widened. "Well, I'm glad to hear. Your team lead wrote a great review after you were done. When you graduate, we'd be lucky to have you."

Your cheeks certainly reddened by now, and you felt like you were out of breath as you stuttered out a "Thank you." Or at least you hoped you did. You were pretty sure you had blacked out for a moment.

You couldn't tell Damian how grateful you were for his hand on your lower back. The touch rooting you and making you feel less intimidated, or at least protected by him.

"Thank you, Father." Damian's tone was slow but menacing. "I know young, smart, and pretty are your type, but maybe try not to steal my date? Especially when you have your own..." He gave the woman a pointed look.

She and Bruce shared a knowing look before she turned to you and said in a soft, cat-like taunt. "Careful honey. The more territorial they are, the harder it is to tell if they wish to love you..." She eyed Damian in a way that, for some reason, upset you. "Or own you."

Damian's hand tightened around your waist. The woman caught the movement before her gaze returned to yours. It felt like the air around your was a hundred degrees golder. You felt goosebumps on the back of your neck when she said. "Soon enough, you'll be lucky if Damian lets any man near you."

"I think I see the mayor." Bruce spoke up, breaking the tension, and led the woman away. "We should say hello."

When they were gone, you took in a deep breath, turning to Damian, you wispered. "Was that your mother?"

He huffed out a laugh. "Thank God no." He smiled down at you, his hand rubbing circles on your back. "Did she scare you?"

"She did."

"Yeah, my father's always had a type." He spoke in disdain. For a moment, it almost looked like he was the parent who was dissappointnent in his child's choice in partners.

A small smile crept across your lips. "What's your mother like -"

He lifted your chin and placed a kiss on your lips. A polite way to shut down your question. He pulled back an inch to whisper. "I don't want to talk about my parents anymore." Against your lips.

Message received, you nodded against him. Throughout the night you met a lot of interesting people. Of course, all of them had already known Damian. And they seemed happy to interact with you both. Shy and inexperienced in small talk, you let Damian take the lead. He answered their eager questions with ease, and you noted the way men and women hung on to his every word.

The whole time, Damian's hands never let you go, visibly claiming you in front of whatever audience you had. You took up a rather interesting conversation with a man who word for the district attorney. You nodded eagerly, agreeing with every word as he said. "It's just a different way of thinking. A mathematical one."

"Those are the kinds of conversations I want to be a part of in my line of work." You admitted.

His smiled. "I'm sure you will. If you're eager enough to make it happen. Give me a call if you ever want to come see our unit at work." He handed you a business card, and you took it, nodding gratefully.

Suddenly, you felt Damian slide up from your hip to your neck, his fingers drawing circles on your collarbone. You turned to look at him, seeing his tongue poking his cheek as he eyed the man you were talking to.

"Well." The man cleared his throat. "It was nice meeting you."

"You too," you said before you were led away. Into the hall, away from the crowd.

"Where are you going?" You asked as Damian pulled you into what looked like a conference room, shutting the door behind you and pressing you against it. You looked up at him, squirming under his heated gaze. "Damian, is everything okay?"

"Leave it to you to make a two hundred dollar dress look like it was worth two thousand." He growled against your ear.

"Thank you?" You wimpered in question, unsure how to take the words.

"They were all looking at you like they wanted to take you home with them." He wispered, kissing you hard. "But they can't. You're mine."

You captured your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from moaning. The woman's words from earlier began playing in your mind. You saw Damian the way she described. Possessive, territorial. You couldn't understand why it both scared and excited you.

"Say it." He ordered. "Say you're mine."

"I'm yours." You don't know why you obeyed so quickly. But the words felt right on your tongue.

"Damn right." He wispered, before kissing you hard. "Fuck, you're so beautiful." He groaned against your mouth. "I win. Out of all those men. I win."

The flattering words made you smile. It was the first time someone said something like that to you. To have it be Damian Wayne, of all people.

Eager for more of his praise, you sunk down to your knees in front of him, looking up to meet his gaze as you unbuckled his belt, lowering his pants and boxers. You bit your lip when you saw his erection, tongue sneaking out to lick up his shaft. Damian was bigger than anyone you've been with. You ran your hands over the hard muscles of his stomach before taking him in your mouth and sucking eagerly.

"Fuck yes, baby." He groaned as his fingers pulled into your hair.

You whimpered around him.

"Finger yourself while you suck my dick. Get yourself ready." He ordered.

You obeyed, you index finger touching your clit through under your dress as you whined around his cock. You worked him for minutes on end, switching from sucking to licking his head, delighting in the way his hips trusted against you and his panting sped up above you.

Damian thought he won. But looking up into his glazed dark eyes, brows furrowed in pleasure as his mouth opened... all because of you. All at your mercy. You felt like you were the one who won. No one out of all those women in that room could see him like this except you.

His hand pulled you up by your hair, pining you between himself and the wall again. You felt so fragile in his arms. "Did you finger yourself like I ask, baby?" He asked, lifting the hem of your dress.

You nodded.

His finger dipped into your whole, feeling how wet you are. He grinned at you through a hooded gaze. "Good girl."

He made quick work of lining himself up and thrusting into you. You arched off the wall and into him as your arms flew to grasp onto him. Unable to hold back, you begged him. "Damian, please kiss me!"

His lips were on yours in an instant, silencing a string of uncontrollable moans as he thrust into you over and over again. Despit holding your weight and fucking you for a long time, he never got tired. Rather he sped up, panting against your lips. "Come for me, my perfect girl,"

You nodded absentmindedly, grasping onto him, needing him as close as possible as you whispered. "Please, please..."

He thrust into you hard, both of you moaning into each other as you reached your climax. Your limbs shook even as Damian lowered you and led you to a nearby door, letting you both into a bathroom.

He used a cloth to clean up your pussy, correcting your dress and hair, before adressing his own look. All while you were dazed and coming down from the high. He held your shaking body, kissing your lips and cheeks and forehead, telling you you did a good job. At last he asked, "Are you ready to go make your donation?"

You had nearly forgotten. You turned to him, still disoriented but determined to see your goal through. Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you saw that Damian did a good job of cleaning you up. Other than your flushed face, you wouldn't have been able to guess what you had just done. He offered his hand, and you took it, allowing yourself to be let out.

#smut #batman #batboys #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #dark academia

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chaos-in-deepspace · 7 months ago

Text

LNDS: Cursed Spice | 18+ NSFW

Aight homies, I almost ran over like four old ladies speeding home on my lunch break to write this. It's cursed. BUt only a little...I don't think it's that bad. This was born from being challenged not directly by @anxiousgoddest so if any of y'all read this at work or in a public place, that's on you and your bad decision making.

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Pegging mentioned, Zayne's Sanity™, Sounding mentioned, Biting, Alligator Death Rolls in bed, Xavier is too old for your shit, Simba, Rafayel wants to both laugh and cry, why are you like this situations, Oh SEX that happens a little in this, it's NSFW what did you expect?

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

Xavier was on top...again. One hand trapping both your wrists above your head while he ground his clothed cock against your heat. The only thing separating you two were his thin boxers and your skimpy underwear that you wore for the express purpose of him ripping them off you.

However, you wanted to be on top, and he knew it. You were pouting as you looked up at him and you could see the amused glimmer in his eyes as he continued teasing you.

"Something wrong?" He chuckled, his boyish laugh filling the room and you groaned as he managed to angle his hips just right. The bastard knew he was being unfair. He had been on top every single time this week. You just wanted to ride him, tease him a bit, maybe do a little edging for flavor. He decided otherwise as he continued taking control of your session.

"Lemme top for once, please?" You asked, batting your eyelashes at him, hoping that was all it would take for him to give in.

"If I'm not mistaken, last time you were on top you got tired halfway through and made me take over so you could lay down." He reminded you and you huffed.

"It was one time..." You tried arguing but he rose an eyebrow, "Okay it was a few times, but it's not my fault you have a surprising amount of stamina, okay?"

"Then perhaps we should work on your stamina next?" Xavier said it so nonchalantly and you bit back a remark as his hands snuck to your sides, snapping the elastic of your underwear, "We should start immediately."

He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, but you had another idea. You went in, biting down on his neck a bit harsher than you normally would. Xavier let out a gasp as his grip on your wrists loosened and you took the opportunity to wrap your limbs around him, your arms and legs locked into place around his neck and torso.

Then you rolled, mouth still clamped on his neck. Xavier let out a groan as he found himself on his back and you sat up triumphantly, looking at the angry bite mark you left on him. You ground your hips down on him and snickered.

"What was that for?" Xavier asked, his hand going to his neck to make sure he wasn't bleeding.

"Classic Alligator Fuckhouse. Gotta keep up, old man." You said, knowing that 99% of people probably wouldn't know what the hell that was.

"A what...that's a thing?"

"It is indeed, and I just did it...successfully might I add."

Xavier sighed before remembered what you said, "You called me an old man."

"You kinda are one, Xav."

"What does it mean if you like this old man?" Oh he was pouting now, how adorable. You just wanted to squish his cheeks...or fuck the shit out of him...perhaps both.

"It means I'm into Gilfs."

Xavier paused, thinking over what you said before sighing, "What am I going to do with you?"

"Love me and fuck me, babe."

Zayne

At this point Zayne was well aware that you had an obsession over his ass. It was unavoidable when you were always making a grab for it. He just never thought you would have...plans like these.

"Please Zayne, I am begging you. Just one time, and if you don't like it we never have to talk about it again." You were pleading, and normally it always worked on him. He had a soft spot for you, after all, and was almost a push over when you requested something. This, however, seemed to be something he wasn't prepared to do...at least not at first.

"I understand you like to be adventurous...but this?" Zayne said as he sat on the couch. His shirt was already tossed to the side and his pants unbuttoned. You had worked hard to get him in the mood before you popped this question. Your hand going teasingly over the bulge in his pants.

"I already have the stuff for it, if you'd let me..." You cooed, trying your hardest to make this seem like it was a good idea on his end. Zayne sighed as he leaned his head back onto the couch.

"Of course you've already bought the necessary items..." You don't know why Zayne seemed to surprised by this with your current track record.

"Lemme just grab them to show you. It won't be that bad, I swear." You said, getting up and running to your room and grabbing a bag filled with everything you'd need. Most items had to be ordered online, so you had literally been planning this for a while. You scurried back to the living room and took out the items.

Zayne paused as he took it all in before he finally spoke, "Why does it look like that?" He said as he pointed at the dildo that was very much not human.

"Oh, I got it off bad dragon. I think this one was called-" You got cut off before you could finish the sentence.

"You bought a large dragon shaped dildo...for me?" Zayne was already feeling the grays peaking through the dark locks of hair on his head.

"I actually measured and it's the same size as you, doctor. If I can handle taking your dick, you can handle taking mine." You said, placing the dildo next to the harness, "Now can I please peg you, I just wanna see that ass jiggle with every thrust. It'll be so hot." You whined.

"That is not going inside me." Zayne finally said.

"But consider if it did." He didn't seem like he wanted to consider the possibility.

You paused before looking back at more of your supplies, "Fine...then how about sounding?"

Zayne looked on in horror before zipping his pants up and standing up. You let out a small wail as you realized he was actually going to just leave you.

"No Zaaaaaayne, don't leave me! At least lemme suck your dick I've been so good."

"My love, I think we need to sign you up for a therapy session before we have sex again."

"I am mentally sound now lemme peg that ass!"

Rafayel

Your entire body was shaking from exertion as you came again, clamping down on Rafayel's bottom cock. You could hear the man underneath you groaning as well, clearly close to his own release. The waves lapped at your skin as you looked down, the soft glow of the moonlight illuminating his flushed face perfectly.

He was always a sight to behold, but especially like this. Completely open with you in his Lemurian form was something you two were still exploring together. Every time you found yourself tangled with him like this you swore you were the luckiest human being to ever grace this realm.

Your hand wrapped around his top cock, jerking the slick appendage against your stomach as you helped him. His clawed hands dug into your thighs as he bucked up into you, groaning as he came both inside of you and all over your stomach.

When he finally settled down you both just basked in the afterglow. The sea breeze helping to cool you off as you stared down at him.

"Normally I'd ask for another round, but I don't think I can feel my legs." You admitted with a small laugh. You could see Rafayel's grin as he sat up with you. The scales of his tail were soft under your ass as he pulled you a bit closer to him.

"Can't relate." He said and you chuckled before getting an idea. You looked down at your stomach and how his cum managed to glow a dim blue. It had fascinated you the first time you had seen it, and you recall how embarrassed he was when you asked if it was safe to eat. Now you had other plans.

"Ah, I can get us a bit cleaned up before we head back inside." Rafayel was already pushing you two back into the ocean, slowly taking his length out of you. Before your stomach could be submerged, you took your thumb and swiped at some of his release.

Rafayel gave you a curious look before he saw the wide smile spreading across your lips. Before he could question you, you swiped your thumb over his forehead.

"Simba." You said.

Rafayel was at a loss for words as he just stared at you. He was used to you being eccentric, but this was...something else. You were pretty damn proud of yourself as you looked at his glowing forehead. He took in a small breath before speaking.

"Might I ask what you're doing?" He said, his voice a little clipped. He didn't know whether he should laugh or cry.

"NAAAAAAAAAANTS ingonyama bagithi baba!" You shouted as you began singing. Rafayel's hand went over to cover your mouth from continuing your song.

"You little nightmare." He said, hearing your laughter from under his hand. He then got an idea and smirked. He stared at you for a moment and you wondered what he had planned. Until suddenly he fell backwards with you in his arms, submerging you both into the ocean water.

It was worth it.

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loveharlow · 9 months ago

Text

SEVEN - 007

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[9.6k] based on 1x07 and 1x08.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, violence, mentions of child abuse, mentions of su*cide, blackmail, breaking and entering, mentions of gun use/murder

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ hope y'all are excited for the next chapter as it is the end of season one, cheer or cry, it's up to you. also small heads up, the series masterlist will be updated with some small things that'll help me flow this series better in between seasons.

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“HELL OF A JOB MELTING THIS SHIT DOWN, DR. FRANKENSTEIN.” JJ directed the jab at Kiara, holding the solidified glob of gold in his hands as The Twinkie pulled up to a pawn shop on The Cut.

“Like you could’ve done better.” She retorted, being the first to exit the van as the rest of you followed.

“I could have.” The blonde boy sassed back. “You’re not the one who has to pawn off this piece of shit. How did I get this job anyway?” He muttered, hiking his backpack up his shoulder and walking off into the corner store.

“‘Cause you’re the best liar.” Pope chipped in. The bell above the door chimed as the six of you entered, an elderly black woman punching in numbers at the register turning her attention towards you all.

“Afternoon, ma’am.” JJ greeted.

“Afternoon.” She had a bit of sass in her voice, probably suspicious of six teenagers walking into a pawn shop mid-day.

“I see you buy gold.”

“That’s what the sign say, don’t it?” The shop owner clapped back, a hand on her hip as she pursed her lips.

“Well, I sure hope you buy a lot of it, ‘cause I’m about to blow your mind.” He told the older woman, swinging the backpack off and practically slamming it down on the counter-top.

“I ain’t got much mind left to blow, so have at it.” She challenged in her southern drawl. JJ pulled the gold from his bag, placing it in front of her. She simply laughed. “That ain’t real. It can’t be.”

“That ain’t real?” JJ raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter. “Feel how heavy it is.” The woman took him up on his offer, struggling just to lift the melted mess off of the counter. She eyed him and up and down before pulling out a magnifying glass with a light attached, examining the gold further.

“Hm. Spray-painted tungsten.” She claimed confidently.

“Spray-painted tungsten? Really? Okay.” JJ crossed his arms and stood to his full height. The rest of the pogues wandered around the small shop while you remained next to JJ. “Why don’t you see how soft it is?” The shop owner took a hammer and nail to the block, tapping it with enough force that if it were fake, it would’ve broken easily. “Wow. Would you look at that?” JJ taunted.

“Hold ya horses.” She reprimanded. “We ain’t got to the acid test, yet.” She eyed him, turning around to grab a dropper filled with liquid before returning to her stance in front of the two of you. She let two measly drops of the liquid hit the gold, nothing happening as she did so. “...Well, it ain’t plated, and it ain’t painted.” She muttered to herself. “It looks like somebody tried to melt it down.”

“My mom.” The blonde boy blurted. “She had all this jewelry laying around the house and she thought it was best to melt it down. To, uh, consolidate it.” You turned your head at the idea, struggling to hold in a small laugh. You wondered if JJ ever considered silence as a reply.

The dark-skinned woman placed the gold down on the scale behind the register, the object clanking as she let it go. “Seven pounds? That’s a lot of earrings.” She told the both of you.

“To be honest, ma’am, it’s really hard to see my mom fall apart with Alzheimer’s.” JJ fake pouted, sniffling as he looked down. You couldn’t help but look around, muttering ‘what the hell’ under your breath.

“Mhm.” Was all the woman offered in response. “I’ll be right back.” She dismissed herself, heading towards the backroom of the pawn shop. Once she was out of sight, you lightly backhanded JJ’s shoulder.

“Ouch! What was that for?”

“Alzheimer’s? Really?”

“I had to sell it. Shed a couple tears, y’know?” He tried to reason. You simply scoffed, calling the boy ridiculous as the woman returned to her place behind the counter.

“So, I talked to my boss,” she started, shifting awkwardly behind the register. “And this is what I can do.” She slid a piece of paper across the counter, a number written on it. JJ just peered up at her through lidded eyes.

“Fifty-thousand?” He questioned. “You think I walked in here not knowing the spot price? Ma’am, I know for a fact, this is worth one-hundred-forty. At least.”

“Well, sweetie, you in a pawn shop. This ain’t Zurich.” She told him.

“...Ninety, or I walk.” He insisted.

“Seventy. Half price and I don’t ask questions about where you got this.”

JJ chewed the inside of his lip, eyeing the five of you before looking back at the woman. “I’d like that in large denominations, please.”

“Well, the snag is, I don’t have that much denominated, not here anyway. I can write you a cashier’s check.” She offered, hand on her hip.

“No, ma’am.” JJ declined. “I want the cold hard. That’s what the sign says.” He pointed to the poster in question. “Cash for gold. And that’s what I expect.”

“...Well, I have to send you to the warehouse. I have the money there. Is that all right?”

JOHN B HAD THE DIRECTIONS TO THE WAREHOUSE, DRIVING ON A BACK STREET IN THE CUT. “So, the warehouse is out here?” Pope questioned, voice laced with worry.

“That’s what she said.” JJ said absentmindedly before chuckling to himself. “That’s what she said…”

“Stop.” Pope demanded, rolling his eyes.

“I’ve never even heard of Resurrection Drive.” Sarah piped up from the passenger seat.

Suddenly, police sirens blared behind The Twinkie, a car with cop lights directing John B to pull the van over.

“Why are we getting pulled over?” John B inquired, pulling the van to stop and demanding JJ to stash the gold away. He hid the object under the seat in the back of the van where the remaining four of you sat. You couldn’t see what was happening in the front of the van completely but you swore you heard a gun cock as John B’s head whipped to the left.

“Why don’t I go ahead and see them hands in the air?” A brassy voice came from the driver’s side window and you swore you saw the end of a shotgun barrel just inches away from John B’s face. “All of y’all — hands in the air, now!” The guy commanded, all of your hands getting thrown up. The lower half of his face was covered with a skull-decorated mask but he looked so familiar...

“You get out of the car. Let’s go!” He urged John B, the boy in question slowly exiting the the van from his side. The masked man instructed your friend to let the rest of you out of the vehicle, following his every move with the end of the gun. John B slid the side door open, never taking his eyes off of the guy.

He yelled at all of you lay down in the ditch, basically shoving the fire arm in your faces as you all practically fell to the ground out of fear. The man backed away, telling you all to keep your heads down as he edged toward the van, jumping inside and beginning to rummage inside of it.

“That bitch set us up.” You sighed quietly, voice shaking from fear. There was no damn warehouse and Resurrection Drive didn’t exist.

“That old bat shanked us.” JJ said frustratedly. “Fuck!” He slammed his fist on the ground, right next to your head. You heard Sarah whimpering, the sound prompting to look to the side where you saw John B getting up from his crouched position.

You frantically waved one of your hands, trying to get him to lay back down. He simply put his fingers up to his lips, signaling you to ‘sh’ before booking it towards the blue sports car with red and blue lights still flashing in the window.

Just then, the guy hopped out of the van. You bit your lip out of anger when you eyed the gold clutched in his palm. He pointed at all of you still on the ground, not noticing John B’s absence. “Don’t move. Unless you want your goddamn brains blown all over the dirt, don’t move your fuckin’ heads!” Was the last thing he said before jumping back into his own vehicle where John B must’ve been hiding.

The five of you shot up when the sports car started to shake, some kind of altercation happening between the two guys.

“Guys, I got the gun!” JB shouted from inside the car, the rest of you rushing over with JJ at the forefront of the group. Pope grabbed the gold from the passenger seat, announcing his victory as the rest of you jumped the criminal. You managed a nasty kick to his chin after Kie got him on the ground, rendering him incapable as Sarah slammed the open car door against his head.

JJ gripped him by his shirt and sat his limp, breathless frame against his own car and you all circled around him. He didn’t waste time in snatching the mask down, revealing the thief’s identity.

“Barry?” You blurted out before you could think about your surroundings, all heads turning to you.

“Hey, Snoozie.” He dragged out breathlessly on the ground, gold grills glinting in the sun.

“You know this guy?” JJ asked, pure confusion in his eyes.

You stuttered to find a response that wouldn’t raise more questions. “I’ve... seen him around before…”

“He’s a basehead. Sells coke to my dad.” JJ’s mind left the topic alone in his rage.

“Probably knows my brother...” Sarah muttered. Barry tried to plead, saying he wasn’t gonna hurt any one of you but JJ was quick to shut him up with the butt of his own gun, hitting him in the face with it.

“JJ!” You all called out but he just pushed you all off of him, bending down to rummage the drugs dealer’s pockets and pulling out his wallet. He removed his ID, looking back and forth between the piece of plastic and it’s owner on the ground.

“We got one last stop.” He affirmed, stomping off towards the van. “Let’s go see where this son of a bitch lives.”

“I DON’T KNOW ABOUT THIS, MAN.” Pope voiced his worries from his seat in the van. JJ was driving, taking the group of you straight into ‘Crackhead Wasteland’ as Sarah called it. Pulling up in front of Barry’s trailer was something you never thought you’d be doing with the Pogues. Or at all, anymore.

The angry blonde didn’t say a word as he threw the driver’s side door open and got out, heading straight inside the trailer without looking back.

“Somebody should probably go-”

“I’ll do it.” You cut off Kiara, climbing over her and Pope to get out of the van, following JJ’s path. Entering the trailer, it smelled stale and it was so messy you could barely see the floor. Your eyes found JJ, scouring the cabinets and drawers and any place where you could store something — borderline ransacking the place.

“JJ, what are you doing?” You sighed, throwing your hands out as you made no moves to stop the blonde.

“Thou hath stealeth from us, we shall stealeth from ye.” You just scoffed, stepping towards him while he threw pillows around. “An eye for an eye, princess.”

“And then what? ‘Cause you know Barry isn’t going to just let this go. You can’t just a rob a drug dealer, JJ, he knows who we are!”

“And why is that exactly?” He stopped in his haste, approaching you with quickness, combats boots dragging across the floor. The blonde was inches, centimeters, away from you now — your noses almost brushing as he stared down at you. “I’m starting to realize that you have some secrets that you don’t want us to know about.”

“This isn't about me-”

“First, it’s the Sarah drama. Then it’s Rafe acting like he knows you and now? Now, you got a south-side drug dealer callin’ you nicknames like he has you written down in his book.” He listed. “I’m starting to think that we don’t really know you at all.” That statement hit you hard, almost physically recoiling at how bad it hurt your heart.

You didn’t even think JJ noticed half of those things, or were bothered by them. The last thing you wanted was for your friends to see you as some kind of liar. “I’m not scared of this guy.” He told you, making his way towards the back rooms as you leaned your forehead against the wall, knowing you weren’t gonna be able to stop him from whatever he’d set his mind to.

The boy retreated from the room, small duffel bag in hand and stomped right past you and out of the trailer. You eventually pushed yourself off of the wall, following him out of the house.

“Alright, so we’re looking at five-grand each as reparations for putting us through that bullshit.” He counted out bills in his hands as your feet touched the grass behind him, the remaining four of the group looking at him bewildered while you just stared irritatedly at his back with your arms crossed.

“So, that’s what we’re doing now? Robbing drug dealers?”

“This Barry guy’s going to find out.” Sarah told him. “And he’s gonna come after us.”

“Yes, he will.” Pope backed up the blonde girl. “This is not the time to start wildin’ out.”

“How’d you guys like having a gun pulled on you?” JJ semi-shouted, John B stepping into his bubble.

“Relax.”

“He had it right here on you, bro.” JJ continued ranting, pressing his finger into John B’s forehead.

“We’ve gotta go get the rest of the gold, okay?” John B reached for the duffel bag. “Just give me that shit, we’re putting it back-” The Routledge boy was cut off when JJ abruptly shoved him against the exterior of The Twinkie. He looked at his best friend, appalled for a moment. “You feel like a tough guy? What’re you gonna do when he comes for us?”

JJ put down the arm that was holding John B against the van before grabbing his backpack and hiking it up his shoulder. “I’m not putting it back.” He said with conviction in his tone before getting into the van, none of you following him inside. “You guys gettin’ in or what?”

When nobody moved, he looked around at all of you silently, meeting each of your eyes before throwing himself back out of the vehicle. He stood before the five of you now, shrugging his shoulders. “What?”

“We’re sick of your shit.” John B told the blonde, stepping up to him once again.

“Oh, my shit?”

“Yeah, your pulling guns on people shit.” Kiara backed up JB.

“You acting like a maniac-” Pope tried before he was cut off.

“Okay…Pope, I took the fall for you, man!” JJ tried to get through to him. “You know how much money I owe ‘cause of you?”

“I’m gonna pay you back and I didn’t even ask you to do that!”

“I just did pay it back!” JJ screamed at the boy. “Right here, right now, by myself.”

“JJ,” You spoke up for the first time in the last couple of minutes. “My mom has the restitution handled, okay? We’re not blaming you, alright?. But we're already in deep shit.” You tried gently, not wanting to upset the blonde more than he was already. “Just put it back, J.”

He simply bit his lip and shook his head, not meeting any of your eyes. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.” He spoke, grabbing his belongings out of the van. “You can tell mommy to keep her money.” Was all he said before turning his backs to all of you, walking off.

You sighed, taking wide steps in his direction. “JJ, come on-” You tried before you were being held back by John B.

“Just… let him go.”

You huffed, turning around to look at your group of friends. “Did you guys really have to say all of that?”

Looks of offense and confusion spread across their faces. “Are you seriously blaming us?” Kiara questioned your judgment.

“I’m not blaming anyone but you all just jumped on him as if we haven’t been in this together.” You clarified, eyes on Pope. “You may not have asked him to take the fall but he did it anyway.” Your eyes drifted towards Kie. "The gun is only an issue for you until you think we need it." Then you were looking at John B. “He’s been doing all of this for you. We all have.” You reprimanded finally.

“...JJ isn’t the most level-headed person but he’s not the root of our problems, either.” Was the last thing you told the remaining four of the group before getting into the van.

“I CAN FIGURE IT OUT TONIGHT, GET IT DONE, AND WE CAN GO BACK TO THE HOUSE TOMORROW MORNING.” Pope explained his plan to retrieve the rest of the gold. The boy thought it was best to get the rest of it and store it somewhere secure until you all could find someone who wouldn’t rip you off considering what happened this morning. You’d all gathered at The Wreck, sans JJ, who no one had heard from since he went off on his own a couple hours prior.

“All right, let’s do it.” John B slapped his thighs, ready to stand before Sarah spoke.

“What about that thing with my dad?”

Pope paused, looking between the couple and craning his neck forward. “What thing?”

“I…have to go fishing with Ward.” You couldn't help but chuckle from your place against the wall, the sound coming out as more of a snort as John B shot you a side-eye.

“You’re giving up four-hundred mil’ to go kill fish?” Kiara asked unbelievably.

“Blow it off. It’s four-hundred million in gold!” Pope tried to reason.

“Look, I have to, okay?” John B said finally. “He saved me. If it weren’t for Ward, I’d be in foster care. So, I have to go. Plus, it’d be better to go after the gold at night, anyway.” The empty restaurant went silent, all of you letting the topic go. You simply pushed yourself off of the wall.

“Well, while you have father-son time with Ward Cameron, I’m gonna go track down our friend.”

AFTER SEARCHING FOR JJ FOR HOURS WITH NO LUCK, you returned to The Chateau as night fell. You hadn’t heard from John B and Sarah in hours but had texted Pope and Kie to meet up. You had to return home, begrudgingly, considering your own car had been sitting there for weeks now, collecting dust, and you needed it to make the search for JJ easier.

Pulling up, wheels crunching on gravel as you did, you parked and cut the engine just as Kie and Pope pulled up next to you in his dad’s truck. He was the first to speak as all three of you got out of your seats.

“I didn’t know you still had that thing.” He told you, eyeing the Boxwood Green Ford Bronco.

“I don’t drive it often, especially since we’ve all been riding around in the van as of recently.”

“Isn’t it-”

“My dad’s old truck, yeah. It needs some TLC before I can drive it for real. I got passed by a family of squirrels on my way over here...” You breathed out, eliciting small laughs from the duo.

“...Any luck finding JJ?” Kiara asked you. You shook your head despondently, shrugging your shoulders as your smile fell.

“I checked everywhere except his house. I figured if he did stop there, it couldn’t have been for long. But he’ll turn up, I guess...” You spoke softly, disappointment lacing your tone as you fiddled with your nails. “He always does.”

Suddenly, the greenery surrounding The Chateau was lit up with fairly lights, all of your eyes scanning the twinkling objects with confusion.

“What the hell…” Pope muttered. You all gave each other cautious looks before following the lit path up to the backyard where the boy you’d been searching the island up and down for was sat in a hot-tub surrounded by champagne glasses, inflatables, and flamingo LED posts.

“JJ?” You asked, perplexity lacing your tone as you eyed the inflatable birds in the water.

“What did you do?” Pope was quick to ask.

“I got a jet going straight up my butt right now.” He ignored both of your questions. “Y’all should get in immediately. The water’s amazing.” He advised, pouring himself a glass of champagne and cheering with himself before downing it.

“Where have you been?”

“How much did this cost?” Kiara overshadowed your initial question.

“Uh… pretty much all of it.”

“All of it?” Pope was beyond appalled. He looked like he would blow any second. “You spent all the money in one day?”

“What? Can’t a man have a little luxury in life?” JJ threw out, slurring his words mildly. “I mean, like, guys — we only live once, right? ”

“Are you kidding me?” Pope yelled. “You could have helped us buy supplies to get the rest of the gold out of the well!”

“Or literally given it to any charity!” Kiara backed up while you just stared at the blonde as he got visibly more and more agitated as his friends tore into him. You felt just as bad as when they did it earlier but you couldn’t argue that it wasn’t more justified this time. That fact didn’t make your heart ache any less for your friend. Your best friend.

“Okay, well you know what? I didn’t do that!” JJ shouted, now standing in the hot-tub. His bare chest on display for you all to see the big patches of bruises that littered his skin. You felt your jaw drop so fast, eyes laser-focused on the injuries. “I got a hot tub. For my friends.” He continued as your eyes, that wouldn’t leave his torso, filled with tears.

They were so purple, so vivid, so huge. And you knew only person could’ve given JJ Maybank fresh bruises so quickly.

“No, you know what? Screw friends. I got a hot tub for my family.” He cried. “I got this for you,” He spoke as his eyes shifted in your direction and stayed there, watching as your own drifted slowly from his bruised body to his teary, blue eyes. “Look what I did for you! Look at this!” His voice was watery as he pleaded.

You forced your lips back together, suppressing the sob you could feel building in your chest as one lonely, burning tear ran from your eye. You didn’t waste a second in walking forward and stepping into the hot tub, standing right in front of the distressed blonde. His eyes were on you now and you could see everything behind them that you couldn’t from just five feet away.

You may have given the boy whiplash with the way your arms wound around his neck and pulled him down into the tightest hug in the world in the less than a millisecond, the action so fast it made the water splash around you both as he stabilized himself.

There was a pause before his own arms encircled your waist, so tight you could barely breathe but you didn’t care. You could hear his sobs in your ear, feel his tears trailing down your neck and you basically cradled him.

“I’m so sorry.” You cooed, one of your hands now soothing his hair down.

“I was gonna kill him…” The blonde wept into the crook of your neck. You couldn’t control the tears that fell from your eyes at that, leaning your head so that it was slightly on top of his as you chewed the inside of your bottom lip to control your own sobs.

“I won’t let anything happen to you ever again. I promise you that.”

THE MORNING AFTER WHAT HAPPENED WITH JJ, you’d spent the night with him at The Chateau, Kie and Pope being summoned back to their homes. You figured it was about time to return home as well, at least to feed Marley and what not. Lightly shaking JJ’s shoulder, who was in a deep sleep next to you on the guest room bed, the blonde groaned before stretching, almost punching you in the face as he did so.

Informing him of your plans to head home and come back, he assured you that he’d be fine and that he needed to shower anyway. With that green light, you got out of the bed and slipped your shoes on before leaning down to give his sleeping figure a half-hug and a hair-shuffle. You shouted that you’d be back as you slipped out into the backyard, heading for your parked car.

The drive back home wasn’t long but it was awfully dreaded. Between the hunt for gold and the constant discourse between you and your mother, it seemed as if a break was never in the cards for you.

The sun had come up not to long ago, reaching its peak in the sky as you pulled into your Figure Eight driveway, casting a orange hue over the Cul de sac. You immediately took note of your mother’s car parked in the driveway as well, internally groaning as you did.

Walking up to the front door, you could immediately hear the faint sound of your mother yelling from inside the house. Your hand hovered above the door knob for a moment, listening to her muffled protests until you snapped out of it and entered the house quietly, careful to close the door slowly behind you.

You could tell her voice was coming from upstairs, most likely her bedroom on the upper floor all the way at the end of the hall.

“You’re going to screw us!” She yelled as you edged your way up the stairs, careful not to make the wood creak or wake Marley’s sleeping figure on the couch, where she wasn’t really allowed to be. You stood at the top of the steps now, eyeing her bedroom door from feet away that was cracked open. “Oh, your plan? What exactly is your goddamn plan, Ward?”

Ward? Why would your mother be on the phone with Ward, screaming at him in the early hours of the morning? You crept closer and closer to the door until you were at least a good ten feet away, just enough to hear her clearly.

“Peterkin and Shoupe already found Big John’s glasses on that damn island, it’s only a matter of time. And you taking a dead man’s son out to fish is not a good plan!” She mocked angrily, shuffling around her room. The unpredictable slam of objects causing you to flinch and press yourself against the wall, heart pounding in your chest as you continued to eavesdrop.

“That boy won’t tell you a damn thing about the gold. I risked my career to cover up what you did and now you’re going to screw us both over because you’re getting greedy. And I refuse to go down with you. I have everything I need to put you behind bars, don’t you forget that.” What the hell was she talking about? Your mind was running a mile minute trying to put the pieces together, if they’re even were any. “I will get in my car right now and take those files down to Peterkin if need be. Do not fuck with me, Cameron.”

Whatever was going on sounded too sinister to be any good. Your mother and Ward Cameron were the world’s most unlikely duo and you were sure that the nature of their discussion wasn’t property development or criminal justice. And by the sounds of it, they were talking about Big John and John B.

And if John B was staying at Tannyhill and Ward, as well as your mother, knew about the gold, then everything just took a very wrong, dark turn. Suddenly, something in your gut shifted and you had to get out of the house. Now. You descended the steps as quickly and quietly as possible, pausing when you got to the bottom of the steps.

“...I have everything I need to put you behind bars…I will get in my car right now and take those files down to Peterkin…”

...Files. If you wanted to know anything about whatever your mom knew, it had to be in whatever files she had that allegedly had the capability to take down a neighborhood king such as Ward Cameron himself.

But she didn’t keep work stuff at the house.

It was all at her law office.

Whipping your head side to side, scanning the kitchen-slash-living area, your eyes landed on the table next to the front door where her purse stood next to the bowl where she would drop her keys. Rushing over to it, you leaned over it, relief filling you when your guess was confirmed, the keys to her office sitting lonely in the bowl. You snatched up the keychain, looking back at your sleeping dog before exiting the house and practically sprinting towards your car.

YOUR CAR SKIRTED TO A STOP OUTSIDE OF THE OFFICE, killing the engine as you practically flew out of the driver’s seat and up the short steps that led up to the front door of ‘R.R. Law Firm’. The keys rattled as you shoved them into the keyhole, letting yourself into the workspace. You power walked through the waiting area, making a b-line for your mother’s main office.

The door was closed, her name printed in big, gold letters across the frosted window. You knew this had to be an in-and-out operation, considering the office opened in the next couple of hours and your mother had a knack for showing up early.

Walking into her office, you didn’t know where to start. The wooden desk, the drawers, the cabinets, her desktop. On a whim, you immediately went for the computer in the center of the desk, waking it up as you were immediately greeted with a password screen.

You smacked your teeth, taking a guess — her birthday? Wrong. Your birthday? Wrong. Her wedding date? Wrong. You decided to give up, knowing you didn’t have the time to play guessing games and potentially miss anything that could tell you what the hell has been going on under your nose for who knows how long.

You spotted a file cabinet in the corner of the office, unlike the others. It had key holes for each cabinet. Looking down at the stolen keys in your hand, there were only three on the metal ring — her house key, the office key, a smaller key that you hadn’t taken notice of before.

Pinching the silver object between your fingers, you walked up to the tall cabinet, sticking it in the highest drawer and twisting before pulling the receptacle open. But it was empty. And so was the next drawer. Your eyebrows pinched together, why have a locked cabinet with nothing to hide away?

So, with a passing thought, you skipped the third and fourth drawers, aiming straight for the fifth and last drawer, inserting the key and pulling it open. Almost struggling to do so with how full it was. Of course it’d be hidden in the very last drawer of a locked cabinet — hide and hide again.

It was folders on top of folders but one thing caught your eye — a manila folder with the word ‘POGUES’ written across it in bold, black letters. It was the first thing you reached for, despite it being smushed under other files and hard to get out. Once you had it between both of you hands, free from the cabinet, you just stared at it before sitting down on the floor.

Flipping it open, you felt your heart drop as your face twisted.

There were pictures. Of you and your friends that you didn’t know had been taken. Photos of you all boarding the boat the day before you found the Royal Merchant out in the storm, the photo of you and Pope sinking Topper’s boat, of you all gathered at The Wreck. Someone had been following you all for days, weeks. But why?

You soon had your answer when you went further into the photos, uncovering others underneath — a picture of Big John’s compass, photocopies of the maps you’d found and a picture of you all gathered outside of the Crain house, a note written on it. ‘They found it?’ was all it read. More importantly, you recognized pictures of pages out of your journal, pages that detailed the events of your gold hunt. Journals you always kept in your room.

You didn’t even take notice of the tears welling in your eyes until one dropped onto the pictures laid out on the hardwood floors. You quickly wiped the tears away, shuffling all of the photos back into the safety of the folder and going back into the storage bin to retrieve the next thing that caught your eye — a folded up piece of paper tucked into the corner. Unfolding the paper, you were immediately perplexed.

It was a list of payments. A bank statement. A log keeping track of monthly payments made out to R.R. from W.C. and it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together — your mother was keeping track of payments that she’d been receiving from Ward for eight months straight.

Just weeks after your dad was found.

There was an initial payment of five-hundred thousand dollars and then monthly deposits of fifty-thousand dollars from seven months ago up until the beginning of…this month. Something about it made you want to throw up. Ward Cameron had been paying your mother large sums of money ever since your dad passed and nothing about that sat right with you.

Going into to the drawer you pulled out the last two items remaining — two FedEx Packages individually labeled B.J. and O.C.. You made moves to open the B.J. labeled package first with it being the lighter of the two, the other package nearly bursting at the seam.

There was only one thing inside. An cassette tape, labeled Big John. Your hands shook. You had no idea what could possibly be on this tape or why your mother would have anything about Big John stashed in her office. She wasn’t involved in his case, so what the hell was recorded on this tape that she had to hide it away. And using the little bit of brain power you had left, you figured if B.J. stood for Big John, then O.C. could only represent one thing.

A name. Owen Carter. Your father. And suddenly, opening that second package became less appealing and you needed to get the pogues together to piece this all together. Because you had a very bad feeling that this gold wasn’t as off the radar as you all had initially assumed. And maybe those square groupers weren’t the only ones after it.

Or willing to kill for it.

“What’re you doing in here?” Your eyes shot up from you place on the floor, landing on your mother’s figure standing next to the open office door. When did she get here? Her own eyes drifted to the documents laid out in front of your frame sat on the floor, and then to the open cabinet.

You could hear your heart in your ears, your hands braced behind you. The first thing your mind told you to do was run but for some reason, you went against all caution. Snatching up the document that’d been pressing in your mind since you read it, you questioned her. “What is this?” You asked, slowly standing up and presenting the bank statement to her. You wouldn’t dare step closer.

You didn’t feel safe.

“Why were you going through my things-”

“Just answer the question.” You demanded, shaking the paper. “You’ve been getting money from Ward Cameron ever since my dad died. I want to know why.”

“Ward is... he's a donor for the law firm-”

“Don’t lie to me.” You cut off the woman as she started to take steps towards you. “These were made out to you. To your personal bank account, not the firm.” You informed. “I have a right to know.”

“There are things you don’t understand. Just put all that stuff back, it’s work related-”

“Stop lying to me!” You broke down, throwing the paper to the floor. “You have pictures of me and my friends, recent pictures. You have information on the Royal Merchant, the payments from Ward, and information on Big John and my dad.” You listed off, tears streaming as you snatched up the cassette tape. “What’s on here? Huh?” You held the object between your fingers, watching her eyes go wide.

“Put that down.”

“What’s on it?” You pressed, an expression of pure anger spreading across your mother’s face that you’d never seen before. “And the other package?” You motioned for the parcel that you’d had yet to open. “What’s in there? What are you hiding-”

“Do you ever think that I don’t have to tell you everything?!” Your mother snapped. “I am the adult here. What I do is none of your goddamn concern. So, when I tell you to put that stuff back,” She trailed, taking quick steps towards you until she was just inches away. “You put it back. Give that to me.” She spat before reaching for the tape in your hands, but you threw your arms out of her reach.

“No! Stop!” You screamed as the woman gripped your arms. “Let go of me!”

“Give me the damn tape, Y/n!”

The dispute went on for a few moments until you took the opportunity to push her away from you, her cell phone falling from her pocket as she stumbled back. A message coming through just as the device hit the floor, screen side up.

W.C.

The kid got away. He knows.

You both looked at the message, then back at each other. That’s when you knew. Your mother knew a lot more than she ever let on and she wasn’t the only one. If she knew about the gold then there was no doubt that Ward knew, but the compass. If she had photos of the compass, and John B gave it to Peterkin, then that was one more person on the list of people not to trust.

And now, by the looks of that message, John B found out something and he could be in just as much danger as you. You immediately turned to grab the files, you couldn’t leave them. You had to take everything. No matter what.

Your mother practically tackled you to the floor from behind, dragging you both down onto the hardwood. Your chin thumped against the wood, causing you to bite down on your lip, yelling out in pain. You managed to flip onto your back underneath the woman she attempted to pin your swinging arms.

“Get the hell off of me!”

“I can’t let you leave!” She hollered in your face, one of your hands successfully grabbing a hold of her hair and using it to yank your mother off of you, rolling onto your stomach to push yourself up. You went for the papers again, only to be grabbed once more by the back of your neck. You screamed out in pain as her fingers dug into the back of your neck.

You managed to kick her in the kneecap, causing the woman to fold in pain as you attempted to create distance. Failing to do so, however, as she quickly recovered and slapped you across the face, so hard, you were sure that the rings on her fingers left a series of scratch marks across your cheek.

In your stunned state, she took the opportunity to pin you against the wall with her forearm pressing painfully up against your throat, cutting off most of your air supply. “You can’t tell anyone. Do you hear me?” She sneered, her face inches from yours. “Why couldn’t you just leave it alone?” Her words were jumbling together in your ears, the only clear sound being a ringing noise.

Was your own mother really so lost in her own rage that she’d kill you to keep whatever happened a secret?

You were losing air by the second, your vision going blurry and cross-eyed. Fight-or-flight kicking in your, you used whatever strength you could muster to bring one hand up enough to claw viciously at her eye, your mother crying out in agony as she released you to hold her eye. You took in a big gasp of air and used your foot to kick her down as hard as possible while she now clutched her abdomen with one hand and held her eye with the other.

Wasting little time, you bolted towards the documents and gathered them all in your arms before making a b-line to the front door and out of the office. You almost tripped down the steps trying to make it to your car. Throwing the pile of papers and parcels into the passenger seat, you threw yourself into the driver’s seat and sped off, leaving a cloud of smoke behind you.

YOUR TRUCK KICKED UP DUST AS YOU PULLED INTO THE FRONT YARD OF THE CHATEAU, JJ, Pope, and Kie already standing starstruck outside. “Where’s John B?” You asked breathlessly, frantically, as they all turned their looks of shock to you. JJ was the first speak, taking steps towards you.

“What the hell happened to your face?” He questioned, eyes on your busted lip and the claw marks decorating your cheek.

“Where’s John B?” You ignored the blonde in your hectic state, breathing heavily and eyes roaming.

“He just left...” Pope told you.

“He said something about Ward knowing about the gold.” Kiara cut in. “...He thinks that Ward killed his dad.” You sighed, looking down at the items clutched in your arms, the pogues noticing them now, too. “What is all that?”

“We’re about to find out.” You told them. “Where’s the tape player we found in the tomb?”

“SO, YOU STOLE ALL OF THIS FROM YOUR MOM’S OFFICE? AND SHE’S THE ONE WHO SCRATCHED UP YOUR FACE LIKE THAT?” JJ questioned as you splayed the stolen documents out on the coffee table inside The Chateau.

“Yes,” You spoke, opening the tape player and inserting the cassette. “I heard her talking to Ward on the phone and, I don't know, something didn’t feel right, she was threatening him with information she had, so I broke into her law office.” You explained as they all crowded around your sitting figure on the couch. “She had pictures of us, pictures of my journal pages, of the Royal Merchant research we found…I think she had something to do with what happened to John B’s dad.” You told them solemnly. “And mine.”

“I thought they ruled your dad’s death as…” Pope started, looking for the words to approach the sensitive topic. “As a suicide.”

You sighed. “They did but I never believed that. He wasn’t depressed or anything, or at least there were no signs. I know him, if it were true he would’ve left a note or something. A man as happy as my father doesn’t slit his wrists and walk into the ocean without saying goodbye. But I didn’t want to believe that the truth was any darker than that, honestly. So, I accepted what I was told.”

“What do you think the tape will prove?” Kiara piped up, leaning against the couch. You simply shrugged.

“I don’t know. But better to know than be left in the dark, right?” You concluded before pressing play on the tape record, the cassette whirling inside before a voice came through. It was Ward’s.

“Why am I doing this again?”

“You want my help?” Your mother’s voice replied, digital and static-like. “This is collateral. I help you cover up what you did and this is insurance that you won’t screw me over in the end. If I go down, so do you.” She said. “Start from the beginning, don’t leave anything out. What happened the day you killed Big John Routledge?”

You could Ward’s sigh before his voice came through once more.

“...It was a mistake, a stupid accident. It was that morning before he was pronounced missing, Owen, Big John and I were out on the water.” He explained, your heart racing. You weren’t aware that your dad was working with Ward. Or even knew him outside of a general context. “Big John, he brought us out there to talk. He told us that he’d found it, he’d found the gold. We were happy but he was focused on other things, said he need assurances. Legal assurances. I tried to tell him that we were all partners, that it would be split evenly. But he didn’t like that…”

He continued. “...He said he never agreed to it. He felt like the twenty-years he’d spent looking for the gold entitled him to a bigger share than Owen and I. He wanted to give Owen and I ten percent each, twenty percent total while he took eighty. I couldn’t do it. I tried to tell him that I’d supplied the boats and money and that Owen got the diving equipment, we both tried to tell him that it wasn’t fair. But things got heated, spiraled out of control. He grabbed me, I hit him, and Owen tried to break it up but we didn’t care. Big John, he tripped. I pushed him back and he tripped over a loose piece in the boat floor and hit his head on the edge…”

“...He started bleeding everywhere. It wouldn’t stop. I tried to console him, to fix what I’d done. But Owen was freaking out and Big John was losing consciousness. And Owen, God, he tried to call someone on the radio but I wouldn’t let him. I was scared. He kept saying we needed call someone, over and over but I ignored him and… I decided to throw Big John overboard. I thought he was dead. Owen… he was spiraling. He started calling me a monster, saying that Big John was our friend. I tried to calm him down and get on the same page but it was impossible. And when he and I got into it, he managed to get away on the emergency lifeboat we’d taken with us. Do you want me to tell you what happened to Owen?”

“No,” Your mother’s voice broke through after Ward’s monologue. “That will be recorded separately. For now, I just need to know if you’ve told anyone else, any of this, besides me.”

“Yes. Scooter Grubbs. He knows everything. I enlisted him as my new partner after what happened.”

“And what happened to Big John’s boat?”

“I sunk it. I didn’t want anyone to find it.”

“...That’s all I need for now. End of Confession Tape One.”

…The room was silent for a while, all four of you taking in the heap of information at once. Kiara was the first to break the silence, voice full of sad rage. “So, Ward actually killed John B’s dad.”

“This is so fucked.” Pope huffed, one hand on his head.

“What did she mean by tape one? Are there other tapes?” JJ spoke up, eyes on you before his next question left his lips. “Are you okay?”

You were biting your lip, holding back tears as you shook your head side to side slowly, your watery eyes meeting his. “No. I’m not.” None of them knew how to react, Kiara giving you a side hug while JJ and Pope sat in silence.

“...Should we open the other one?” Pope questioned after a moment of silence, referring to the parcel with your father’s initial on it. But you weren’t ready for that. You would open it eventually. You had to. But you had all the information to help John B right now. So, that was the goal.

You shook your head, wiping your palms against your thighs. “No. Not right now.”

“Don’t you want to know what happened to your dad? Who was involved?”

“I’m pretty sure we have those bases covered, Pope.” You laughed out sadly. “The only thing that package could have is the gorey details that I didn’t know. If, and when, I open that, I won’t be any use to you all, no matter how bad it is. Or isn’t. I’m just…not ready.”

THE THREE POGUES LEFT YOU ALONE AT THE CHATEAU, they figured it was good to keep an eye on Ward. They advised you to hang back, rest a little. But sleep wasn’t coming easy to you. You figured John B would return at some point from wherever he went. It was the early hours of the morning, close to one, when you heard the door slam shut, his voice echoing around the house.

“Pope? Kie?” He called out in the dark of the shack, you sat up from where you were laid out on the guest bed. Coming out of the room, you leaned tiredly against the door frame..

“They’ve gone Ward-watching.” You yawned, crossing your arms.

He smiled smally at your presence before basically charging towards you and sweeping you into a bear hug. “You have no idea how much I needed to see you.” He mumbled into your hair as your face was buried into his chest. When he pulled back, his hands were on your shoulders as he stared into your eyes, his smile dropping. “I have to tell you about Ward. He tried to kill me, Y/n. And I went to see Ms. Lana, she told me-”

“I know.” You cut him off. “I know everything. About Ward and the gold…about your dad. My mom is involved somehow, she had all this stuff in her office. She documented everything…” You explained, eye drifting to where the heap of evidence laid on the coffee table still.

“...What about your dad?” His hands dropped from your shoulders. “The story I got from Lana, she said that when Ward left, he said he had loose ends to tie up. She said Scooter was positive he was talking about your dad.” Your eyes were focused on the last unopened package as John B spoke.

“I’m pretty sure I can find that out but I don’t want to. Not now.” You spoke, tone firm. You didn’t have many more tears left to cry. Turning your sights back to JB, you continued. “Right now, we get some sleep and get the gold out of the well first thing in the morning. We can deal with everything else later. We can’t let him win, John B.”

WHEN YOU WOKE UP THE NEXT DAY, John B was gone. You had no clue where he went until he came back hours later, saying we needed to get everyone together, excluding Pope who had his scholarship interview today. When the missing two arrived at The Chateau, meeting you and John B on the pier behind the shack, he explained everything.

The gold was gone. When he’d woken that morning, he rushed to The Crain House, the estate littered with ‘for sale’ signs and Cameron Development construction equipment. He’d managed to get into the well himself, only to discover that the gold was gone. Every trace of it. Ward Cameron had the gold and no one knew where he or it was.

“You’re sure he got everything?” Kie questioned once he was done as she sat next to John B, who was splayed out on the wood.

“Every bar.” He sighed despondently, snatching the cast off of his arm after minutes of fiddling with it. “Look, it’s not like I expected a happy ending or some shit.”

Suddenly, Pope came running down the landing, dressed down in his professional attire. “Guys!” He stopped in the middle of the four of you, hands on his knees and a sweat stain in the middle of his powder blue button up. “Oh, God. I ran all the way down here.”

“You all right?”

“How was the interview, Pope?”

“Don’t ask.” He panted, standing up straight. “JB, Look dude, I’m sorry. About everything.”

“It’s fine–”

Pope cut him off. “But I don’t have a lot time but I have information that is tactically relevant.” He started, looking around at all of you. “So, before I had my interview, my dad said he was going down to the private airstrip to cut palms for Cameron’s big plane.” All of you perked up at this, John B showing the most expression he had in hours. “Because it was too heavy, it needed a longer landing strip to take off. So, I’m there sitting in my interview thinking to myself, hm, why would Cameron need a longer airstrip to take off?” He spoke enthusiastically, hands moving every which way as he paced the dock.

“What could be so heavy to weigh it down?”

“...Gold.” JJ realized, staring down at John B.

“Exactly.” Pope pointed excitedly. “Guys, this is our chance, but it leaves tonight, and we have to go.”

“Guys, we can’t give up now.” Kiara smiled.

“What’s the plan, big man?” JJ asked, leaning against the wooden pillar holding up the structure. But John B was looking at you.

“We’re gonna steal that shit back.” He half-smiled, sitting up now. “He doesn’t get to win.”

PARKING THE VAN BEHIND THE WIRE FENCE THAT ENCLOSED THE AIRSTRIP, you all ran towards it, grabbing a hold of the gate. Pope had a pair of binoculars, using them to get a better view of the interactions taking place.

“They’re loading up the gold.” He informed before JB snatched the binoculars away, using them for himself. Without the optical assistance, you could still get a vague view of what was happening through the trees, watching as a familiar blue Range Rover pulled up.

“There’s Ward.” John B said. Two people exited the car, John B’s face falling as they did so.

“What?” Kiara asked, noting his solemn expression. “John B, what?”

“...It’s Sarah.”

“She’s with him?” Pope whispered as if anyone could really hear the five of you.

You all continued observing, watching Sarah pace up and down the airstrip, approaching the workers who loaded the gold. Even from your distance, she looked frantic. Worried. Then Ward was grabbing her by the arm walking her to the plane but she resisted.

Within seconds, her father had picked her up by the waist and basically dragged her into the plane, her screams echoing throughout the open space.

“He’s hurting her.” John B said aloud before rushing towards the van, hopping in and starting the engine, catching all of your attention.

“Hey. What’re you doing?” Pope asked, throwing his hands up while John B reversed the van. You all started yelling and running towards the van but he started driving before you could pile in. Then it became clear when he drove the The Twinkie, straight and clean, through the wire fence and onto the airstrip, heading straight for the plane.

You all yelled after him, running thorough the break he’d made in the fence before deciding collectively to not assume you could catch up to motor vehicle in time to stop him. All the four of you could do was watch as the plane propeller’s whirled, the aircraft making a u-turn to face the correct direction of the landing strip.

John B’s van came up right beside, keeping speed with the larger vehicle. It wasn’t long before the smaller of the two was in front, John B driving the van right in front of the plane now. He brought it to a stop, parking it sideways in front of the oncoming aircraft.

You really thought that it was over. Your heart dropping in a way that made your knees weak, preparing yourself to see one of your best friends get rammed by an airplane. But at the very last second, the plane came to an abrupt halt. Shaking on its wheels just inches from the van.

The four you were relieved but only for a second before you were standing up straighter at the sound of police sirens. Pope practically flinching out of his shoes.

“Guys, I can’t arrested.”

“We’re on probation.” JJ added, referring to the two of you.

“Look, we’re no good if we’re all in jail.” Kiara reminded, guiding the three of you to follow her into the mess of palm trees and bushes, away from the private airstrip. You all ran for what felt like hours, making a good distance between yourselves and whatever was going down between the three left behind.

Mid-marathon, you all ducked when you heard a gunshot reverberate throughout the woods.

“What was that?” You inquired, fear coursing through your veins. “Did that come from the airstrip?” You worried, making moves to walk back in the direction you ran from until a hand was gripping your forearm, eyes trailing up to land on Kiara.

“We can’t go back.”

“What if something happened?” JJ sided with you.

“If something happened, we’re too late to do anything now. And we’re too far. Guys, we have to go.” Pope assured. With you and JJ taking one last glance back, you continued following the opposing two further into the woods, carrying hope that John B was okay.

next chapter>

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

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#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #svn #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank x you #obx jj #jj maybank x y/n #obx jj x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank smut #jj maybank angst #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank recs #SoundCloud

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stitched-mouth-vs-the-world · 1 year ago

Text

In The Dark Of The Night

Pairing: Valak / The Nun x Fem! Nun! Reader.

Summary: After arriving and joining the Covent you so didn't wish to join, Valak takes a liking to you.

Warnings: Smut, Oral sex (fem receiving), Tongue fucking, Fingering, Intercourse (P in V), Masturbation, Voyeurism, Unprotected sex, Overstimulation. Mention of reader possibly catching an STI from Valak and his ashy lips. Reader smokes weed.

Writing Time: 3 hours.

Word Count: 2251.

Format: Kinktober Fic, Day 6.

A/N:

Had a ball figuring this shit out. Started writing this at 1am, it's now nearly 4am and I have to be up in 2 hours 😁🔫 Think about that when the reader is crying about not getting enough sleep. I love this fic but I think Valak is very OOC, this is my first time writing him so hopefully I'll get better at it. Valak is referred to as 'The Nun' and with they/them pronouns (until they whip out their dick 😁) since I was semi writing fron the reader's perspective and they have no idea what Valak's name is or what they identify as. But I do write Valak as male, so they are male here it's just doesn't know until near the end.I'm tired so I didn't research Nuns and Covents before writing this, which I probably should of done but who cares since the movies do a poor job of explaining them? I'm sure y'all only came for the smut. I'll fix it when if I feel like it. Valak has ashy lips cause I said so.

Here is the masterlist for all my Kinktober 2023 works.

---///---

Something felt off, to say the least. You felt more uneasy in this new unfamiliar place than any other place.

When your father announced you'd be attending this new place, you were furious. Well, furious and heartbroken. He had written you off to become a nun because it was the easiest way to send you away. And all for wait? Because you had recently been having issues with your mental health and he couldn't deal with it? Or did he need you needed Jesus?

Either way, you started hating him on the drive here. And once you stepped foot in this place and felt the almost sicken bad vibes.

The teachers had been just as you expected. Strict, never smiling and so obviously loved having power over others. Others being the new not yet devoted Nuns or freshly devoted Nuns.

You was gonna hate it here.

You had met your new sisters and to be honest, none of them mattered to you. You weren't in any kind of mood to make friends, but you hoped that would change. You didn't want to be alone here.

The only Sister that seemed like friend material was Sister Irene. She had that kind and friendly spirit that you thought all Nuns should have.

But seriously, something wasn't right around here. You couldn't place your finger on it and honestly, you hoped you never could.

—-///—-

You tried to get comfortable in your new bed, but it seemed impossible. Like the Devil was purposely making the springs press into your back and then laughing at your discomfort.

You huffed as you gave up and got out of bed. You grabbed your carefully stashed away blunts and lighter and headed for your window. Unlocking the old window proved to be a little bit of a challenge but you managed.

You started at the sky as you smoked, the affect of the weed slowly crawled into you and eased you. You leaned against the wall of the window and slowly looked around your room. The atmosphere suddenly changed back to uneasy and even more so.

Something...or maybe someone caught your eye. You had spotted a figure in your room, in front of your bedroom door. It was so dark, you couldn't make out any features. Just the outline of a body.

It freaked you out to say the least and you knew you wasn't that high so this was real. It had to one of your Sisters right? Here to snitch on you for smoking a joint...right?

"If you're here to catch me up to something, well, you caught me. So what are you waiting for now? Go ahead and snitch." You called out.

No response. You were quiet for a few seconds, just staring at the figure. You then sighed a bit before drawing another drag and offering it up to the mysterious figure.

"Or do you want some?"

The figure suddenly disappeared and you couldn't see where it went. You stood up properly in fear and looked around again, you saw nothing. The room looked completely normal even in the dark but certainly didn't feel normal.

You nervously put out the blunt and crawling back into bed. You told yourself it had to have been the pot, even if you didn't feel that high it must of been that. Maybe your dealer gave you something different this time, some pot laced with something. God you hope it was just that. It has to be just a bad trip.

Fortunately, you managed to fall asleep fairly quickly after that. Bud seemed to be just what you needed to fall asleep. You would get you was asleep for maybe a little over an hour before you stirred awake.

Wonderful, awake again, and it only just turned 1am and you were gonna be woken up at 6am. Delicious, this is gonna be a night full of broken up sleep. You looked up to face the ceiling and hopefully fall asleep again, just get those much needed extra hours.

But you couldn't. And you didn't feel like smoking again, so you did the next best thing. Placed both feet against the bed with your knees bent and pushed a hand past your underwear. You carefully fingered yourselves with two fingers. As your pleasure built up, you closed your eyes and focused simply on your own pleasure. A few moaned slipped out of your mouth and when you felt although you was ready, you added another finger.

You lost yourself in your pleasure and smiled as you neared yourself closer to the edge. It didn't take too long, considering how sleepy you already was. But right as you felt your orgasm building, you opened you eyes. And boy did you regret it.

When you opened your eyes, your attention quickly went to the foot of your bed where another figure appeared. And this time, you could see their features. It was Nun, with a terrifying face say the least. You knew it wasn't another Sister because of their lovely face which was smirking down at you, giving you a lovely view of their sharp fangs. Their eyes glowing a piercing yellow.

'Hell no, not today Satan. Please no.' Is what you thought as you, now fully wide awake, threw your covers off, ripped all fingers out of your pussy and made a beeline for the door. You were stopped by a force that only could of been supernatural and air yeeted back onto your bed. You screamed as loud as you could and the creepy looking Nun inched closer and closer to you.

"Oh Baby, don't scream. Don't cry." The Nun pouted down at you and touched your right cheek.

Obviously, you screamed even louder. The Nun's soft expression disappeared almost as soon as it came and they clamped a hand down across your mouth and squeezed.

"Shut up, now." It's tone now gruff and aggressive.

You looked up at them in fear whilst noticing some strange beauty in their face and soon started crying, "Please don't hurt me."

"Oh Dear," Their soft tone suddenly back, "I'm not here to hurt you... I just wanted to help."

"H-Help?" You whispered.

The Nun gave you a smile and headed down south. You thought the smile was supposed to be comforting but it felt so evil and unsettling, it had the opposite the affect. You felt your heart beat faster in fear, the way your heart starts beating when your about to have a panic attack. It definitely didn't help that you still couldn't move and was completely immobilised by this supernatural force.

The Nun pulled your panties down to your knees, not bothering pulling them down all the way and quickly got to work. Their tongue was... something you had experienced before.

It was wet, messy and far too big to be normal. It was driving you insane. If you had to guess from just the feeling, this monster's tongue was almost the same size as the average dick. It quickly turned you into a moaning mess. Your cries became cries of pleasure and you orgasmed almost immediately. Either you was still worked up from fingering yourself, which was unlikely considering the brief heart attack you just had, or this Nun was unstoppable with their tongue.

The Nun gave you two more orgasms with their tongue before coming up. They looked down at you and smirked again. You could see now, their black lips and tongue were black from ash. It was all over their mouth and chin and you was now consumed with worry, hopefully now of that ash got caught in your pussy. Which STI would you get from that?

You hadn't noticed but the Nun had started pulling up their skirt and pulling at something underneath it. Out sprang the biggest dick you had ever seen.

Nope, that wasn't normal, if you saw that monster on any human man you'd tell them to see a Doctor. Cause 12.5 inches (you're estimating based on looks) is not normal. The Nun grinned and stared down at your terrified face as he pumped himself.

You looked up at him, "That's not going inside me."

"Yes it is." He stated matter of factly still smiling at you.

"It will kill me." You responded with a glare.

Whilst you was still a little iffy about the penis size, your fear was starting to melt away and you was no longer afraid to talk to this creature. It could be the dizziness from the multiple orgasms you just had but this was starting to feel like a normal not scary sexual encounter.

"I'll make it work." The Nun shrugged.

"Ok, but I need to know your name first." You told him.

The demon was silent for a few seconds, "I don't usually give my name... but I suppose you will need something to scream so. It's Valak."

Valak thrusted into you immediately after that, not giving you much time to adjust. You screamed in pain but Valak placed a hand over your mouth again and tsked at your vocals, as if you was the problem. He then pulled off your panties completely and shoved them in your mouth without warning, you choked a little and Valak moaned at the sound.

Fortunately Valak hadn't pushed all of himself inside of you, only the first few inches (which is still a whole dick, Valak, but ok) and didn't go any further than that. He moved in and out at normal pace, not seeming to care at all about your cervix which he was currently beating up with his monster cock.

But despite all the complaints, you was starting to love it. Once you had adjusted, you was moaning and crying again. Tears ruining your vision and making Valak more aroused therefore making him move faster.

He groaned as he fucked up and glared down at you, completely focused on your face. Deciding this wasn't enough, he bent your legs back as far as they could go, up to your head and leaving you in a mating press. This gave him more opportunity to add a couple more inches without hurting you as much.

You cried, screamed and whined as the creature defiled you. You felt filthy, absolutely disgusting. But also alive. Something you hadn't felt before. You were squirming and whimpered from a dick too big for your little pussy to comprehend and you loved it. It was now you realised there was no chance you could married to God, you was enjoying such a lewd act, letting a demon fuck you dumb, way too much.

"Please! More!" You whined against your panties.

Valak heard you loud and clear and pressed a thumb on your clit. He would of preferred to sink his whole dick into you but knew it would be too much.

He then leaned down and spat on your mouth. Most of it was immediately soaked up by your panties, which irritated the shapeshifter. So he pulled your panties out of your mouth and spat again.

"Swallow whore." He hissed at you.

You eagerly did as you was told, hoping there would be a reward. And there was, the demon grinned down at you again when he saw you followed orders well, and then shoved his whole tongue in your mouth.

He tasted just as you expected, like ash and death.

As you noticed before when he was eating you out, his tongue was not normal either. It was way too big and long, just like his dick. It filled up your mouth and made you choke slightly. But soon like before, once you adjusted to the size, you was moaning like a slut again.

You came again, you didn't know which number this one but it was definitely better than the last. But you were feeling drained now, overstimulated. You had no idea when Valak would cum though and it made you nervous, surely he would stop once he came you thought. But then, when would he cum? A demon's limit must be far greater than a human's.

And you was right, Valak could fuck for hours without cumming. And that's what he planned to do. He wanted to know what you looked like, excessively overstimulated.

You really wished you hadn't found out what made this place so off.

#stitched #stitched mouth #stitched talks #stitched’s kinktober #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #stitched writes #the nun #the nun ii #the nun x reader #the nun smut #valak x reader #valak #valak the nun #valak smut

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miloformula123fan · 4 months ago

Note

I absolutely want part 2 of the love language fic!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

ohhh of course, but warning, it's gonna hurt!

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

peter bonnington x wife!reader

“You, okay darling?”

“Yes” she croaked, laughing at her own ruined voice

“Who’s going on the podium, darling?”

“Fred. I think Toto wished that the overtake had worked so he could be on the podium for Lewis’ final race. Are you ready to be coaching a child next year? Bit of a step down from your 7 time world champions.”

“He seems like a nice kid, y’know. Good championship this year. And next year is about rebuilding and then the year after going for the trophy.”

“With the kid? God, trying to break Seb’s record are we?”

Bono snorted but the laughing fell off his face as he grabbed Y/N’s hands.

“Take care of him, okay? I don’t trust him with a lot of people, so I’m trusting you with him.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Y/N laughed as she threw Carlos in after Lewis. There were a few sad faces mainly from Carlos’ side of the garage and Williams. Maybe they were thinking about Sauber’s pit stops from this year. And how that was them next year.

And Williams. She would miss Logan. She’d taken him under her wing after seeing the way James was treating him. And while she was happy he’d managed to get a seat at Prema’s Indycar project, she would miss seeing him week in week out.

---

“OH FUCK NO NO NO LEWIS.” Y/N wanted to cry as she watched Lewis slip down the order as the pit stop was screwed up, as they tried to take the wheel off for the third time.

“Shit, Lewis I’m so sorry.” Y/N raised her head from her hands to make sure Lewis could hear her properly as she mumbled into her mic as the scarlet ferrari rejoined the race.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. We’ll come back stronger next race.” Lewis tried to reassure her as he fought with the Haas cars.

Y/N wanted to believe it. She really did. But she could sense the glares coming from the Mercedes garage next to her as she sat at the pit wall, cursing herself, her head still in her hands. Watching through her fingers as Lewis fought for position with Haas. The Ferrari was so good. He should be breezing past them. Scratch that, he should be miles ahead of them and not even in contention to see them unless he was lapping them.

Y/N couldn’t stop rewatching the interview, the way Toto mocked Ferrari and appeared angry at them for what had happened in the race. She could still feel the anger from the race mistake, she could almost hear all the critics, all those who hadn’t wanted her anyway, now utilising the current mishap to further mock her, further their arguments.

Their arguments that she did not belong.

And maybe she didn’t. Her entire career she had felt like she was the model, she was the goal for little girls who weren’t into karting. She was the trophy that got paraded out any time any time there was an argument about inclusion or a situation where someone was being cancelled and they needed her to confirm that the paddock was a good place to work.

“Darling, you promised you’d protect Lewis.”

“Yeah, well y’know” she barked out a dry laugh “it’s like a coming of age when you race for Ferrari.”

“Well, okay then, but I mean you told me…”

“THE FUCK DOES IT MATTER ANYWAY?” Y/N outburst. She saw the shocked look on her husband’s face and tried to lower her volume as he spoke.

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter? Yes it matters, you’re Lewis’ race engineer, if it doesn’t matter to you, who does it matter to?”

“Not me. I’m leaving next year anyway.” Y/N couldn’t look her husband in the eyes as she said it.

“You’re what…”

“I’m leaving. I’m going to red bull if it matters.”

“What do you mean you’re going to red bull? You’re ferrari’s best engineer.”

“Yeah, well, red bull had a better offer. Y’know? You’re working on the future and red bull are bringing up Liam, so. New experience for me. I’m older y’know, last hurrah, bringing Liam a championship.”

“But Ferrari have Lewis, Adrian, Charles, Fred…”

“So? It’s my fucking life Peter, you don’t own me. I can make my own decisions and I can make my own choices in my life. And this is my choice. And if you can’t respect that, then maybe I should leave here too.”

Y/N didn’t even wait for a response, but simply turned and left, needing to calm down.

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @pear-1206

#f1 x reader #miloformula123fan #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #peter bonnington x reader #bono x reader #peter bonnington fic #peter bonnington #peter bonnington x female reader #peter bonnington x you #peter bonnington x y/n #bono fic #bono #bono x female reader #bono x you #bono x y/n

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herejusttosufferalong · 5 months ago

Note

Y'all, I've been glued to this saga because L and R are so similar to what I went thru with my ex, like down to the sleeping on the couch thing, only reversed, that I don't know whether to laugh or cry. A and S don't know what they're in for.

Storytime: My ex's Rory is called Mike and they met playing a sport in college when X was a freshman and M was a super senior, so he's ~4 years older. M took X under his wing and they became bros for life I guess. M is super nice and goofy but a hot mess as a person, can't be trusted with the simplest of tasks but gets by by being beloved by everyone. X has consistently thrown him bones, brought him on to projects and recommended him for gigs at the expense of his own career and reputation. You can't make this shit up.

X and I were long distance for the first ~year of the relationship, I moved out to him to a small ass town an hour away from anywhere because of his job and because it was cheap. We were in a 1bd apartment and the first little while was bliss, hot and heavy, amazing. It was my first time living with a partner. Maybe a few months in, M calls X - he got a job in the city an hour away and he's moving down. X gets the brilliant idea to invite him to stay on our couch until he finds a place. I was fine with it at first because he was a super nice guy but I had no idea what I was getting into. Ladies, when I tell you I became the 3rd wheel in my own relationship and a ghost in my own home, I'm not being dramatic.

I was working from home so I was alone all day in a town where I knew no one who wasn't connected to X in some way and when the two of them would get home, they'd bro out with each other and I basically had to compete for my bf's attention. We stopped doing anything that didn't include him and constantly had to be mindful about how loud we were in the bedroom because he was on the fucking couch. I couldn't relax in my own home that I was paying rent and bills for. Mind you, M at this point was further along in his career than X and making way more money. Two months pass, he still hasn't found a place and instead commutes an hour each way to work. Then the fucking pandemic hits. I was the only one working initially and I was at home with the two of them playing video games, working out, watching TV, yelling, laughing, on TT, on Zoom with their other buddies 24/7 while I was trying to work. We'd constantly end up doing whatever they wanted to do. Dude stayed on our couch for like 10 1/2 months, only paying for groceries, takeout and activities here and there. I kinda snapped during the holidays, I drove across the country alone to be with my family and didn't go back, my dad then made a round trip to go get my stuff because I just couldn't even look at X. Only then did it occur to X and M that maybe M should move out. But you know what the narrative in his friend group is about me? That I'm a cold bitch who broke his heart.

I look back on it now and I'm angry at myself for being such a dummy, I was a total pushover. My X wasn't a bad dude, he was just too much of a bro to know how to be a bf. He always felt a need to include everyone but that cut into the little time we had together. In my defense, he was really hot lol.

It's crazy to think how different my life is now with my fiance, we just bought a house earlier this spring, which wouldn't have been possible with my X because he spends all his money on his hobbies. X literally did the same HBS thing L did after I dumped him, hit the gym like crazy, he follows like a thousand half naked girls on IG, likes all their posts and thirsts in the comments, it's beyond cringe. This is also on his fully public IG account that he also uses for work. He hasn't been in a serious relationship since, I'm told he's become quite the fboy, but he's collected a seemingly infinite amount of new bros judging by his posts. M is still in the picture, of course, although he has his own place and a serious gf now, while my ex has a new roommate who he plays an expensive, niche equipment sport with that he spends every penny he earns on. My ex was a Leo, so I'm not surprised L has it prominently in his chart.

This stuff is not uncommon among younger Millennial men. My now fiance is 5 years older and he is a Man. He shows up for me the way I show up for him, he doesn't make plans without considering me and he's on top of his finances. He's a serious person. I never knew I could be at peace like this. I know what I'm building towards with him. A and S are just sidepieces to the main love story that is L and R and if/when one of them gets dumped, the other one will as well. They're there because they go along with what L and R want. It'll come back to bite them in the ass but they'll learn an invaluable lesson the way that I did - don't date a manchild who won't prioritize you over his friends.

some good advice for the youngins

thank you for sharing 💜🥃

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obx-pogue4life · 10 months ago

Note

GURLLLL URRR BACKKK!! Missed seein u on my dash! Idk if ur taking requests but I got this idea I can't get out the head

Friends to lovers

Beach party kegger

Kook likes u but ya shoot em down

Pulls gun and is really bad

Jj saves u, screams/beats the hell out the kook like a mad man

Y'all confess ur feelings

And maybe uses the words "all in" and sappy happy ending 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Oh my gosh I love this idea and I hope you like what I came up with. This is SO JJ 👀😂

All In

Warnings: fluffy with implied smut, kissing, guns, violence, swearing, feeling uneasy, drug use, fighting, protective JJ, crying, friends to lovers, happy ending, prolly more so let me know if I forgot any 💚

I couldn't believe what was happening. My best friend defending my honor, all because of some stupid kook who decided to crash this kegger with his friends. Everything was harmless enough at the start, just cat calling and some whistling, you know the kind; just your general disgusting, neanderthal behavior. It was bothering me for sure but I wasn't gonna let it get to me and ruin my good time with my friends. As the night went on I could see JJ getting more and more irritated with them and the second that kook put his hands on me, his fists were flying. "DON'T YOU FUCKING TOUCH HER, ASSHOLE," JJ screamed at the kook who was trying to manhandle me into dancing with him and shoved him away from me. The kook comes right back at us and JJ immediately makes contact with his jaw, knocking him on his ass. He quickly recovers, gets back up and spits out a small mouthful of blood.

"Oh you know you like it baby," he says to me with a wink. "You know you want a piece of this," he cockily smirks, lifting up the bottom of his shirt to show off his barely visible muscles.

"And just what am I supposed to be looking at here," I say squinting and laughing as I brush him off. I hold my hand up to silently signal JJ not to charge at this guy and beat the living shit out of him.

We begin to walk away and JJ snickers at his weak attempt to entice me. I sigh and roll my eyes but feel a rough hand reach out for me again, this time harshly yanking me back and hurting my arm.

"Ouch, you asshole! What the hell," you say, a little shocked this guy was being so forward, especially with JJ right at my side. Usually the kooks just wanted to mess with me and my friends, hook up, be jerks and and occasionally get into the random fight over stupid shit. But this? This felt different, almost scary.

"Now that wasn't very nice now, was it baby doll," he says to me in a creepy monotone voice. His eyes look frighteningly dark, like there is nothing but emptiness behind them. He sniffs loudly and wipes the underside of his nose with his thumb and it all clicks for me. I can see some white residue still under his nose. He must have just gotten high. "Greaaatttt," I think to myself as I try to shake his grip off my arm. The look on JJ's face right now was one I've seen far too many times. He was ready to kill this kid but I prayed he'd take notice of me shaking my head discouragingly and trying to make him realize that this dude was totally coked out. I pointed to my own nose and tried to get my message across to him, which thankfully he understood. The last thing I want is for him to get into a crazy brawl with a maniac, especially over me. A minute passed by and we all were just kind of standing there, unsure what he was going to do. He still had his hand around my arm and he was really beginning to hurt me but I didn't wanna say anything to make JJ lunge at him, so I just kind of took it the best I could. He could tell I was wincing though and mentally, I was preparing myself for the fight of the year. Surprisingly though JJ very calmly came towards us and apologized.

"Hey, I'm sorry man," he said trying hard to sound earnest. "Sometimes I just get crazy over y/n getting attention from other guys, you know. That was my bad. I'm just very protective over her. I'm sure you can understand that," he says sincerely. I could feel my heart swelling inside my chest at his sweet words about me and had to snap myself back into the reality of the situation that was before me.

"What I understand, is that your bitch, needs to learn some fucking manners. It's not nice to laugh at someone whose just trying to show you a good time," he slowly drawls out, his grip on me becoming so tight, I nearly cry.

He looks at me whimpering and laughs. JJ clenches his fists and takes a step forward but stops himself when he sees this kook force me onto my knees and notices a gun sticking out of the back of his pants. I start to talk back but JJ puts his finger to his lips, signaling me to be quiet. I give him a funny look but he pleads to me with his eyes to just stay still and stop making noise. I catch on and quickly and stop but it's too late. The kook pulls out his gun and points it directly at my head. "I think someone needs to learn their place and say they're sorry," he says in that same creepy monotone voice.

"YOU STUPID BITCH," he screams towards me. "I'M FUCKING TALKING TO YOU Y/N," he yells, tapping the gun repeatedly on to my head.

I start crying immediately and I can't seem to make my mouth move. My entire life is flashing before me and all I can keep thinking about is "I can't believe this is how I'm going to die."

I can hear JJ saying my name and he pulls me out of my spiraling thoughts but only long enough to hear that crazy coked out kook screaming again. "SHUT UP AND STOP TALKING TO HER," he yells at JJ.

"No problem man, sorry about that," he says and slowly walks towards him. The kook is pacing in small circles and waving the gun around and all I can do is watch in horror.

"Yeah she can definitely be a bitch sometimes," JJ chuckles, trying to defuse the situation. He winks at me and nods his head, making a full circle around the kook. JJ is standing in front of me now and immediately, I feel so much better. Even though I've never been so scared in my life, I almost feel safe now. Almost.

The kook continues to pace back and forth as he and JJ talk about what a bitch I can be, laughing and making fun of me. Their words hurt but they seemed to calm the kook down. A few minutes later he plopped down in the sand and sighed loudly, dropping his gun next to him. He put his head in his hands and took a deep breath, starting at the sand. JJ looked at me and to the gun and I nodded as he immediately springs into action, knocking the kook backwards while I quick grabbed the gun and threw it into the water. JJ was on top of him, punching him over and over again, him now the one screaming. "IF YOU EVER COME AROUND HERE AGAIN! IF YOU EVER FUCKING LAY A HAND ON THAT PRECIOUS BODY! I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL KILL YOU! DON'T FOR A SECOND THINK I WON'T. I SHOULD KILL YOU RIGHT NOW YOU ASSHOLE FOR PUTTING HER THROUGH THAT! FOR PUTTING ME THROUGH THAT! FOR TRYING TO TAKE THE BEST THING I HAVE IN MY LIFE AWAY FROM ME! TRY THAT AGAIN AND I GUARANTEE YOU WILL NOT SURVIVE," he says punching him one last time, knocking him out cold. He was still alive but barely breathing. JJ saw the horror on my face and finally gets up off of him and rushes to my side. "Y/n! Are you ok? Are you hurt? Talk to me, please! Are you ok?," he begs me to answer him. I'm just kneeling in the sand beside this whole bloody scene and thinking about what just happened and I can't seem to talk or move. "Y/n? JJ gently shakes my shoulder and smooths out my hair. Y/N? He says a little louder, trying to get my attention," this time succeeding.

I let out a broken shriek and lunge into his arms, so happy to be comforted by the man kneeling before me. "J.. I...," I sob, tears streaming down my face. "I thought I was going to die," I say hysterically. "I thought we were going to die."

"I know darlin', I know" he coos into my ear as I continue to cry. "You know I'd never let that happen, y/n. You're safe with me, always," he says softly, stroking my hair and still hugging me tight.

"Oh my God," I start to say through my sobs. "And you... you stepped right in front of me...," you try to finish your thought but can't get out the words.

"I told you y/n, you're safe with me. I will never let anything bad happen to you," he says in a reassuringly soft voice. "I will always protect you."

I nuzzle into his chest and move further into his lap and cling to him for dear life. I never wanna let him go and even though I'm still shaken, I feel truly safe now. With him. Just like this.

"Now probably isn't the right time to tell you this," he says into the top of my head. He leans back a little and pushes me away slightly so I can look at him.

"Y/n?," he says, gently brushing his hand over my cheek and resting it there. "I'm in love with you," he says shakily.

My eyes go wide and I just stare at him as he leans his forehead against mine, sighing. "I've felt this way for so long y/n. Please? Say something? I thought I was going to lose you tonight. I can't stand to keep this from you another second. I'm sorry if this seems weird or out of the blue but I think I've honestly been in love with you since the moment I met you, I just didn't realize it until we were older. And then after everything that just happened, I know in my heart I had to tell you as soon as possible how I-," his words suddenly cut off and he's completely taken aback.

I can't stop myself from crashing my lips onto his and finally getting to kiss my best friend. I have been waiting for him to say something and act on his feelings for years. It just figures that a near death experience is what would finally give him the push he needed to finally tell me how he feels. I pull away and let him cup my face again, his grin giving me butterflies throughout my entire body. "So does that mean....," he starts to say before I cut him off again.

"I love you, too J. I've been waiting for you to say something for so long," I say to him, putting my head on his shoulder and hugging him again.

"So you knew?," he asks me seriously.

"I had a pretty good idea," I say leaning back up and facing him.

"Why didn't you say anything?," he groans, throwing his head back and running his hand through his hair, chuckling.

"Well...," I ponder aloud. "I just figured that you weren't ready for me to know yet and that you'd tell me once you were," I shrugged. "I didn't want to force your hand and try to start something you weren't ready for or sure about," I say genuinely.

"I've always been sure, y/n. I guess I was just scared how you'd react...I didn't want ruin our friendship. I couldn't stand the thought of you rejecting me and not having you in my life so I guess I just took the safe route all this time," he says sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders.

"Well there's no turning back now, Maybank," I smile at him.

"All in?," he asks, cocking his brow at me.

"All in," I agree nodding my head and grinning.

He leans in to kiss me and the feeling of his lips against mine almost make me forget the events of tonight until we start to hear a rustling in the sand besides us.

"Shit y/n! We better get out of here before that lunatic wakes up," JJ says helping me to my feet. He grabs my hand in his and we start to run towards the car. Never in all my life have I ever been in such a scary situation but at the same time, never in my life have I felt so safe and settled. Once we get to the car, he opens the door for me and asks me once again if I'm sure I'm alright. I say yes and he reluctantly takes my word for it and closes my door. He quickly runs around the back of the car and hops in, peeling out as fast as he can. "Where to, y/n?," he asks me.

"Can I spend the night with you J?, I ask quietly. "I'm a little scared to go home to an empty house. Just for tonight?," I plead.

"You can spend every night with me y/n," he says, taking my hand in his. "Scared or not," he says bringing my hand up to his lips and kissing it sweetly.

I smile happily to myself and tell him that sounds perfect, snuggling up into his side, still holding his hand, as he drives us home.

"Thank you," I say to him quietly. "For everything."

"I'm just glad you're ok," he says, sighing as we turn onto his street.

We pull up to his empty house and sit in comfortable but heavy silence for a minute, digesting everything that's happened tonight.

"All in?," he asks me once again, staring straight forward out the windshield.

I smile at him and lift my head off his shoulder, turning so I can see his face. He turns towards me slightly and l lean my head on to his gently.

"All in," I repeat, smiling.

He slowly places his lips on mine, brushing my cheek with his thumb and sighs contently into the kiss. "You have no idea how long I've waited to do that y/n," he says pulling away and staring into my eyes. I blush at his love filled gaze and smile sweetly, his words instantly bringing back all those butterflies.

"And you have no idea how long I'VE been waiting for you to do that," I giggle, looking longingly from his beautiful eyes to his luscious lips.

"Oh yeah," he questions flirtatiously, running his free hand through his hair. "Wanna know what else I've been waiting to do with you all this time," he smirks, wiggling his eyebrow at me.

"I thought you'd never ask," I say laughing as he rushes to get out of the car and runs to my door to open it for me.

He holds out his hand and helps me step out of the car and closes the door. Still holding my hand m, he leads me towards the door but stops just short of opening it.

"I'm really glad you're ok, y/n... I don't know what I would have done if something had happened to you," he says to the ground before turning around to face me.

"And I'm really glad you're ok, J. The way you just leapt into action and stayed so calm. That was really smart thinking. You were so brave, that could have ended so badly for both of us. I don't know what I would have done either if something bad happened to you," I say and start to tear up again.

"Hey now, don't cry y/n," he says brushing the tears from my eyes. "We're both safe and sound, nothing to worry about now," he says hugging me.

"Now!," he says, sternly but silly, poking my side trying to make me smile. "TO THE LOVEMAKING," he playfully yells and hoists me over his shoulder. I giggle and roll my eyes as he quickly lets us into the house and runs us both up the stairs to his room, throwing me onto the bed and smiling at me like a love sick fool.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked it! Let me know if you want a part 2! 💚

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bow-of-aros · 1 month ago

Text

Come Back For Me

Summary:

They're on the staircase, guns pointed at each other, but it goes a little differently this time around. (Or - I wanted them to yell at each other more. I'm an Owen Carvour apologist first and foremost)

This musical has taken over my entire life. One Step Ahead is the only song that exists to me right now. I wanted more of a confrontation that what we got BUT I also wanted Owen to not die so this is what resulted from that. Hope that y'all enjoy <33

There they were. After years of grief and rage and praying to God for the chance to go back and change that night, Owen Carvour and Curt Mega stood on a staircase, pistols loaded, pointed directly at each other.

It was familiar, in a way. If they shifted their aim a few scant inches to the side, they were back in Italy, Japan, Finland, Guatemala, working as a team. Watching each others backs.

Owen hasn’t had anyone watching his back for a long time.

Let’s just say that it didn’t work out very well for him in the past.

“Owen,” Curt started, and Owen had to will his hands to remain steady, for his aim to stay true. Four years and it was still the same goddamn voice.

The same voice he’d argued with on their first assigned mission together, the one he’d found so arrogant and grating coming from the brash American he’d been stuck with. The same voice Owen had started to grow fond of, as time went on and the arguing shifted to bickering, light-hearted jabs as they tore through everything in their paths. The same voice that had whispered sweet nothings in his ear on the rare quiet morning where they could play at a domestic life.

He’d trusted that voice.

He’d loved that voice.

Owen was falling again, slipping on that damn banana peel and staring up at his partner as he crashed to the ground. Curt had called his name, he could remember that much.

That voice was the last thing Owen Carvour ever heard before everything inside him that mattered died.

“Please. You don’t have to do this.” And suddenly he was back in the present, Curt on the steps below him, staring up pleadingly. As he spoke, Curt’s target moved from Owen’s head to his heart and, well, wasn’t that just fitting?

He wanted to cry. Owen wanted to fall to his knees and weep about how unfair it all was, to let the rot that had been festering inside him spill out and infect everything around him.

Instead, he opted for a sneer, “Oh, don’t I? Humour me, love, what would you have me do instead?”

The old pet name found its mark with brutal accuracy and Curt flinched as though he’d been struck. Normally, this is when he would explode, when he’d close his eyes and start swinging without any regard for the consequences.

That didn’t happen. Curt took a deep breath and looked right back at Owen, eyes alight with an old fire.

Owen found himself slightly unnerved.

“You could come back with me,” Curt inched forward, freezing as Owen refocused his gun at the movement, “We could take down Chimera together. We could make things right.”

One of the fine threads holding Owens composure snapped.

“Come with you? Why on Earth would I come with you?! You left me.” Owen’s shoulders heaved and his eyes were bright, but his voice continued to hold that cold, calm fury. “Do you have any idea what they did to me? How long I was down there thinking Curt will save me. Curt will come back for me?”

“They asked me about you, you know. The great Curt Mega,” He spat out Curt’s name like poison. “I didn’t tell them shit. I knew how proud of me you’d be for not breaking but you never showed up.”

Curt’s face had gone pale, all bravado leaking out of his voice as he stammered out, “Why— Why didn’t you, uh…”

“What? Why didn’t I sell you out?” A sharp, humourless laugh escaped him, “Maybe because we were fucking partners, Curt. Maybe because, no matter what, we were supposed to have each others’ backs. Maybe it was because I was foolish enough to believe that you were only moments away from breaking down that door right up until I managed to claw myself out of there.”

Despite all Owen’s efforts, his voice hitches and he can feel the tears he’d been willing away start to roll down his cheeks.

He can count the amount of times he’d cried in front of Curt on one hand. Mostly from when Curt had to stitch up something that Owen couldn’t reach, once from a few too many drinks and the crushing weight of the lives he hadn’t been able to save.

Never because of Curt.

Not until that night, at least.

Curt’s voice comes out fractured, “Owe, I—”

“Don’t call me that.”

The shaking anger in Owen’s voice must shock Curt into silence, because he freezes with his mouth half-formed around some empty platitude. As if mere words could fix the agony that consumes Owen’s every waking moment, the lingering ache where bones had broken and never set properly.

As if words could fill the gaping chasm in his chest where love used to keep him warm and chase away the cold that had settled into his bones.

“Only people who don’t leave me to die get to call me that. Only people who stand by me no matter what get to call me that.” Owen pauses, ensuring that what he says really sinks in, “You don’t get to call me that.”

The anymore echoes unsaid between them.

Once, hearing that name fall from Curt’s lips had filled Owen with what could only be described as starlight. Something bright and beautiful, but unlike the sun where it burned if you looked for too long. He’d always adored the stars, would’ve watched them every night if given the opportunity, tracing the constellations and sitting in awe of the stories that surrounded them.

That’s how Curt had made him feel, something to be in awe of, something that could be gazed at forever without every getting tired.

Now, that name burned. It prodded at tender bruises and reopened festering wounds, dangling everything Owen had lost in front of him and then snatching it away before he could even begin to reach for it.

“Owen,” Curt corrected himself, and Owen felt that sense of loss all over again, “I swear that I wanted to come back for you, but mission protocol dictates—”

“Mission protocol?” The words were drenched in disbelief, “You know what else mission protocol dictates?”

Owen started numbering things on his fingers, angry enough to take one hand off his pistol, “Mission protocol dictates that you don’t drink on the job. It dictates that you don’t leave anything with DNA evidence behind, like a banana peel. It dictates that we set the detonation time with enough space for us to make our escape. It dictates that we keep each other safe.”

“Now, tell me again about mission fucking protocol.”

Instead of answering, Curt takes advantage of Owen’s loose grip on the gun and shoots it out of his hand. He’d always been a better shot than Owen, even though he was loathe to admit it, but he couldn’t argue that it had helped them out of tight scrapes before.

The bullet didn’t even graze his hand, hitting exactly where it had intended and leaving Owen unarmed.

Leaving him vulnerable.

“I can’t let you do this,” Curt’s voice shook, but his hands remained steady, every angle lined with determination. “I loved you. I still love you, Owen. I love you so much that I spent every night drinking myself to sleep and hoping that I wouldn’t wake up the next morning. The only time I was ever actually happy was for that brief moment after waking up and I didn’t remember that I had killed you.”

Owen opened his mouth to speak, but it snapped shut when Curt cut him a sharp look, “No. It’s my turn. I need to say this. I need you to hear this.”

And, well, what else could Owen do but nod? This is what he’d dreamt of every since he’d realized that Curt had left him behind, the knowledge that it had destroyed him as much as it had destroyed Owen.

“I was a coward. Is that what you want to hear? I was a fucking coward when I left you behind. I made a mistake and it cost me everything that mattered, and I couldn’t face it. You died, and I died with you.”

They were both crying now, years of emotions finally rising to the surface.

Curt wasn’t done. “But you’re here and you’re alive, and it’s everything I’ve been dreaming of for years. You lost everything, your beliefs were shattered, and I know it’s all my fault, but it’s not too late.”

The pistol lowered, not pointed away, but no longer aimed at his heart.

“Come with me, Owen. Please.”

And he wanted to. Despite everything, Owen ached to return to Curt, to let him fight for Owen’s trust, to fall into his arms and try to believe him when he said that everything was going to be alright.

“I can’t.”

The mask that Owen had so carefully cultivated had surely crumbled to dust by now, leaving the desperation and heartbreak he was feeling on prominent display for anyone to see.

“I’m too far gone, Curt.” He had to make Curt understand, he had to, “I’m broken. They took me apart and put me back together wrong. I have nothing to go back to, I’m a traitor to my country and dead to everyone else. You left me.”

He felt like a broken record, but when something turns your life to ash and is the foundation upon which you rebuild everything you are, it’s hard to let go of it.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you. You were everything, and then you took everything.” Owen flung his arms out to the darkness around him, “This is all I have left! I have to do this.”

Curt’s face shuttered, and Owen knows what comes next. It’s what this whole thing was leading up to, no matter how much he pretended that he could change the story.

“You know that I can’t let you do this, Owen.” Curt tightened his grip around the pistol, and something like relief washed through Owen.

Finally.

“Shoot me then,” What was meant as a taunt came out more like a plea, “Finish the job you started four years ago and just fucking kill me.”

As Curt raised the gun up higher, Owen couldn’t help but laugh.

“I always did say that you were going to be the death of me, love. Can’t say I imagined it turning out quite like this.”

And of all things, that is what made Curt falter. Maybe it was the reminder of Owen’s last words before he fell, maybe it was what Curt had said after.

I’d never let you down.

The click of the safety being engaged sounded throughout the room, and Owen watched in an odd combination of wonder and despair as it was placed back in its holster.

“What are you—”

“I won’t do it again.” Curt wouldn’t even allow Owen the decency of confusion, the fire in his voice burning through everything he thought he knew, “I will not kill you again, Owe.”

There it was. That damn name.

Owen didn’t say anything.

“I know you. I know that you are good. I know that, buried under all the hurt and the betrayal, you still want to make the world a better, safer place. And I know that you just need to remember that.” Curt stepped out of his way, tucking his hands in his pockets and leaving Owen a clear path to leave, “I know that you’ll make the right decision. You always do.”

Cautiously, bracing for an attack that never came, Owen walks past Curt, making it down the stairs and walking towards the door.

“Oh, and Owen?” Curt calls after him.

He stalls, not turning around, he’s not willing to cede that yet, but also cocking his head to the side ever so slightly to show that he was listening.

“I’ll come back for you this time. I’m never going to stop coming back for you until we’re back on the same side again, I promise.”

There were a million things Owen could say to that, from scorn to despair to turning around right then and laying all his broken pieces at Curt’s feet.

In the end, he didn’t say anything and pushed through the door, leaving Curt to his decision.

But, as Owen heard footsteps echo behind him, he finally let himself hope.

#fanfic #spies are forever #owen carvour #curtwen #agent curt mega #hurt #fix it fic #sorta #hopeful ending #but with more yelling at each other #emotional AND physical hurt #aka my take on what happened to owen after the fall #god they love each other so much #it hurts #smallest bit of comfort #i love them so much #akjdfkljskla

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