#trying to keep tagging clean for this so I don’t lose anything!
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cosmic-hoboandthehighlander · 11 months ago
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As some of you may know, I’ve been working very hard on a divorced dad Mort AU for a few months now. If you don’t know, you’re about to know because I’ll be talking about it all the time over the next year! I plan on posting the first chapters early next year, but I really can’t wait to introduce you to my OC, Mort’s daughter, as she’s become one of my favorite characters and I need all of you to meet her!
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When Abbey was 7, her parents divorce leaving her in Mort’s primary custody. Her mother is very absent, continuously choosing her boyfriends and later, her new family, over Abbey. When Abbey was 9, Mort began dating Teddy and he loves her more than anything in the whole world! (And he tells her so!) There’s a reason I like to also call this the Stepdad!Teddy AU because he’s the best dad ever and Abigail is so very loved by him. Most of the story takes place when Abbey is ages 13-17 and she is the same age as Tina Belcher.
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Short, around 5’6 or 5’7. She takes after Mort, who is on the shorter side. She says she gets it from her dad since he’s on the shorter side. Compared to Teddy, she’s pretty small (he’s like 6ft!) He calls her all kinds of names like short stack and squirt (teasing of course!)
more of a midsize body; has a bit of a tummy, wider hips and thicker thighs. As a child she had more rounded cheeks, but she’s grown out of her baby face for the most part. Shes always been a little on the bigger side (think Gene as a child?)
brown-hazel eyes just like her dad. More golden than brown. She wears glasses, usually thick plastic frames. She likes color, so she hardly ever had just plain black glasses. She has medium brown hair, wavy but not quite curly. She wears it in braids a lot, she likes french braids. When her hair isn’t braided, abbey typically wears her hair to her shoulders.
there a spattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, though not a ton. She gets that from her mother.
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Abbey’s very best friends are Becky Krespe and Tina Belcher; she’s also a member of the Boys4Now fanclub and spends a lot of time with Krissy and Robin, and of course she hangs around the ‘main’ crew: JJ, Zeke, Tammy, Jocelyn, Darryl, etc.
Abbey wants to be a mortician when she grows up, so she likes to help Mort at the funeral home. In the summer, Teddy likes to take her on jobs with him. She knew how to hold a drill by the time she was 8 and Teddy is really proud of that fact.
When Abbey is 11, her and Mort move in with Teddy. They get married when she’s 14 and Abbey got to help Teddy pick out the ring
Ever since Abbey was 8, she and Teddy have been reading bedtime stories. Save for a short time when she’s 13-14 when she thinks she’s “too old for bedtime stories” and breaks Teddy’s heart just a little, they do it every night. When Abbey is older, she starts reading aloud to Teddy. This continues until she moves off to college.
Abbey likes horror novels (just like Mort!) and her favorite holiday is Halloween. Halloween is a huge deal in the Kindler house, actually, they go all out with decorations and costumes!
Though she’s not biologically Teddy’s, being basically raised by the guy since she was 7 means she’s picked up a lot of his habits. She's loud, kind-hearted, and likes to see the best in people. She also has a habit of talking with her mouthful and can be a little clumsy.
Please feel free to ask all the questions about my girl, she’s literally my favorite! She’ll be a main character in my upcoming fic Dance One More With Me but she has already been featured in five of my fics so far, just look for the Abbey Kindler (OC) tag to find her!
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florawrites-blog · 3 months ago
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Mother.....- enhypen
-When the calm girlfriend finally snaps
Lee heeseung - 이희승
The evening had started like any other, with you calmly going about your routine, trying to unwind after a long day. But as you walked into the living room, the sight of the mess Heeseung had left behind—after you'd asked him countless times to clean it up—stopped you in your tracks.
The clutter was everywhere: dishes piled up on the coffee table, clothes strewn across the couch, and random items scattered on the floor. You could feel the familiar tightening in your chest, the overstimulation building up like a pressure cooker. You had always been calm, collected, the one who kept things together, but tonight, it was too much.
“Heeseung!” you called out, your voice strained as you tried to keep it together. He emerged from the bedroom, his usual carefree smile on his face, oblivious to the storm brewing in you.
“Hey, what’s up?” he asked, glancing around the room without a second thought.
That was the breaking point. All the frustration, the countless times you’d asked him to clean up, the overwhelming mess—it all came crashing down at once.
“Why is this still here?” you snapped, your voice sharp and louder than you intended. “I’ve asked you so many times to clean this up, and it’s like you don’t even care! Do you know how exhausting it is to come home to this every single day? I can’t handle this anymore!”
Heeseung stood frozen in place, eyes wide with shock. He had never seen you like this—never heard your voice raised in anger. You could see the fear and surprise in his expression, and it only made the guilt begin to creep in, but you couldn’t stop now. The words just kept pouring out.
“I try so hard to keep this place together, to make it comfortable for both of us, and you can’t even pick up after yourself? I’m so tired of having to clean up your messes, and you just…you just ignore it like it doesn’t matter!” You could feel your hands shaking, the overstimulation making everything feel too loud, too much.
Heeseung’s face softened, his usual confident demeanor faltering as he took a hesitant step toward you. “I’m sorry… I didn’t realize it was bothering you this much,” he said quietly, his voice laced with guilt. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like this.”
You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to calm the storm inside you. The sight of him standing there, looking so vulnerable and unsure, made the anger ebb away, leaving behind only exhaustion and regret.
“I didn’t mean to yell,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I just…I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I’m sorry, Heeseung.”
Heeseung quickly closed the distance between you, gently wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a tight embrace. “No, I’m the one who should be sorry,” he murmured into your hair. “I’ve been careless, and I should’ve listened when you asked. I never wanted to make you feel like this.”
You leaned into his embrace, feeling the tension slowly drain from your body as his warmth surrounded you. “I just need you to help me, okay?” you said softly, your voice still trembling slightly. “I can’t do everything on my own.”
He nodded against you, his hold on you tightening. “I promise, I’ll do better. I never want to make you feel this way again.”
For a moment, you both just stood there, holding each other in the middle of the mess, the anger and frustration giving way to a quiet understanding. You knew that things wouldn’t be perfect, but at least now, he understood how much it meant to you. And that was a start.
Park jongseong - 박종성
You had always been known as the quiet one, the one who handled things with grace, never letting anything ruffle your feathers. Even Jay, who knew you better than anyone, had never seen you truly lose your temper. But today was different.
You were out with some of your high school friends, a group that had always been a little too opinionated for your taste. Jay had tagged along, more than happy to spend time with you, even if it meant being around people he didn’t know too well. The day had started off fine, but as the conversation progressed, it took a turn that you could feel brewing for a while.
One of the girls, who had always had a knack for saying the wrong things, began bringing up some old, unnecessary information about your close friend Nudsie. They were poking fun at things that were clearly uncomfortable for her, laughing at memories that should have stayed buried. Nudsie, ever the good sport, laughed along with them, but you could see the strain in her eyes, the way she was forcing herself to stay composed.
Something snapped inside you.
You could feel the anger bubbling up, a rare and unfamiliar sensation for you. Normally, you would let things slide, brush off the comments, but not today. Today, you weren’t going to let them get away with it.
“Do you ever think before you speak?” you interrupted, your voice calm but carrying an edge that made the group go silent. The girls turned to you, surprised by the sudden shift in your tone. “Because it’s really starting to seem like you don’t.”
They blinked, taken aback by the sharpness in your words. You didn’t raise your voice, didn’t cause a scene, but the intensity behind your calm demeanor was enough to make them freeze in place.
“Nudsie has been nothing but kind to all of you, and this is how you repay her? By dragging up things that should’ve been left in the past? You might think it’s funny, but it’s not. It’s hurtful, and frankly, it’s immature. If you’re so bored with your own lives that you have to dig up others’ pasts to entertain yourselves, then maybe you should focus on improving yourselves instead.”
You could see the discomfort in their faces, the way they shifted in their seats, unable to meet your gaze. The silence that followed was deafening. They had no comeback, no defense—just awkward, guilty expressions.
Jay, who had been watching the whole exchange, was surprised but also impressed. He had never seen you like this, and as much as it caught him off guard, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. He hid a smirk behind his hand, knowing this wasn’t the time to show his amusement.
The girls mumbled weak apologies, clearly too shaken to continue with their usual banter. They avoided eye contact with you, their earlier bravado completely gone.
You took a deep breath, the anger slowly ebbing away as you turned your attention back to Nudsie, who looked both relieved and touched by your defense. “Are you okay?” you asked her softly, your tone completely different from the one you had just used.
She nodded, giving you a small, grateful smile. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you.”
You nodded back, feeling the tension in your shoulders finally ease. As you turned to Jay, you found him watching you with a mixture of admiration and pride, his eyes shining with affection.
He leaned in closer, his voice low so only you could hear. “Remind me never to get on your bad side,” he teased, his lips curling into a smile.
You rolled your eyes playfully, but couldn’t help but smile back. “It takes a lot to get me there,” you replied, your voice softening. “But some things are worth standing up for.”
Jay reached for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m proud of you,” he whispered, his tone sincere.
You squeezed his hand back, feeling a sense of calm return. The moment had passed, and you were back to being your composed self, but now Jay had seen a side of you he never knew existed—a side that made him admire you even more.
Sim jaeyun -심재윤
You had a long day, running errands that seemed to drag on forever. All you wanted was to come home, relax, and get ready for the evening. You had asked Jake to do one simple thing—just one—so you wouldn’t have to worry about it when you got back: the laundry. He had agreed, of course, always the obedient and loving boyfriend, eager to help out.
But when you opened the door to the laundry room, your jaw dropped.
The entire room was filled with foam, spilling out of the washing machine and spreading across the floor. The machine itself was making a strange, gurgling noise, clearly on the brink of breaking down entirely. And in the middle of it all stood Jake, staring at the chaos with wide, dumbfounded eyes.
You just stood there for a moment, taking in the disaster before you. Your patience, which had already been worn thin by the frustrating errands you had to deal with, finally snapped. The clothes you needed to wear tonight were now soaking in a sea of foam, and the laundry room looked like a scene out of a sitcom gone horribly wrong.
“Jake!” you snapped, your voice louder than you intended, startling him out of his daze. “Be so fucking for real—what the fuck happened here?!”
Jake blinked, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the words to explain. “I—I don’t know, I just… I followed the instructions and—”
But before he could finish, you cut him off, the anger bubbling up and spilling over. “I better get a good explanation because this is insane! I’ve had the worst day, and now I come home to this?!”
Jake looked like a deer caught in headlights, clearly shocked by your outburst. He’d never seen you lose your temper like this. You were always so calm, so collected, but this—this was a side of you he didn’t know existed.
And it scared him.
In a desperate attempt to diffuse the situation, Jake immediately dropped to his knees, his eyes wide and pleading. “I’m sorry, mother—I mean, Y/N—I don’t even have an explanation,” he stuttered, his voice trembling slightly. “I—I must have done something wrong, I’m so sorry, please don’t be mad!”
The sight of him on his knees, so panicked and remorseful, broke through your anger just enough to make you realize how ridiculous this whole situation was. The absurdity of it all—the foam-filled room, Jake’s panicked apology—was almost too much. You felt the last bit of your rage dissipate, leaving you standing there, half-exasperated, half-amused.
You let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through your hair as you looked at him, still on his knees, clearly terrified of your reaction. “Jake, get up,” you said, your voice softening as you tried to reign in your temper. “I’m not going to kill you.”
He hesitated, glancing up at you cautiously. “Are you… are you sure?” he asked, his voice small.
You couldn’t help it—you laughed. The situation was so absurd, so unlike anything you’d ever imagined dealing with, that all you could do was laugh. “Yes, Jake, I’m sure. I’m mad, but I’m not going to kill you.”
Relieved, Jake slowly got to his feet, still looking a bit sheepish. “I’m really sorry,” he said again, his tone sincere. “I have no idea what went wrong. I must have used too much detergent or something.”
You shook your head, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite everything. “Yeah, that’s pretty obvious,” you replied, glancing at the foamy disaster still covering the room. “But we’ll figure it out. Just… maybe let’s avoid you doing laundry for a while, okay?”
Jake nodded quickly, his usual confidence completely replaced by a mixture of guilt and relief. “Absolutely. Never touching the washing machine again,” he promised, a nervous laugh escaping him.
You sighed again, but this time, it was more out of exhaustion than anger. “Alright, let’s clean this up before it gets any worse,” you said, rolling up your sleeves and preparing to tackle the mess.
Jake immediately jumped to help, still eager to make up for his mistake. As you both worked to clean up the foam, he couldn’t help but glance at you every now and then, still amazed by what he had just witnessed.
You caught him staring and raised an eyebrow. “What?”
He shook his head, a smirk finally breaking through his guilt. “Nothing, just… you’re kind of scary when you’re mad, you know that?”
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, well, let’s hope you don’t see that side of me too often.”
Jake grinned, leaning over to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “Deal.”
Park sunghoon - 박성훈
You and Sunghoon were on the couch, attempting to have a relaxing evening together. He had the soccer match on, and you could tell he was fully invested. But as the game went on, he started to get a little too invested. Every time his team missed a shot or the opposing team got too close to scoring, he’d smack your thigh—hard.
At first, you brushed it off. It was just his way of expressing his excitement, and you were used to his quirks. After all, you had your own—like when you would bite his biceps out of nowhere just to see his reaction. But as the minutes ticked by and the smacks got stronger, it started to wear on you.
“Sunghoon,” you mumbled, shifting away slightly. But he was feeling uncharacteristically clingy tonight, and no matter where you moved, he followed, his focus still on the game.
Another smack landed on your thigh, this one even harder than before. You winced, feeling the sting. It was starting to feel less like playful taps and more like someone had whacked you with a heated building block. You tried to stay calm, but the next hit pushed you over the edge.
“Sunghoon, I swear to god,” you snapped, your voice laced with irritation, “if you lay your fingers on me one more goddamn time, I will take every single one of your fingers, cut them off with a smile on my face, cook them, then serve them to you on a plate and feed them to you.”
Sunghoon froze, his hand halfway in the air, eyes wide in shock. He turned to look at you, completely speechless, his mouth slightly agape as he processed what you’d just said. He knew you could get feisty, but this was on another level. The intensity in your eyes made it clear that you were dead serious, and he quickly realized he had crossed a line.
For a moment, the room was silent, the sound of the game still playing in the background, but neither of you paid attention to it anymore. Sunghoon slowly lowered his hand, his pride and confidence suddenly shrinking under your fiery gaze.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, genuinely apologetic. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
You sighed, the anger slowly dissipating as you saw the look of remorse on his face. “Just… be more careful, okay? I know you get into the game, but I’m not a punching bag.”
Sunghoon nodded quickly, scooting closer to you again, but this time with more care. “I promise, no more smacking,” he said, trying to make up for it by wrapping an arm around your shoulder gently, as if you were a fragile piece of glass.
You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at his sudden change in demeanor. “You better keep that promise, or you’re going to have to figure out how to play soccer without fingers.”
He chuckled nervously, leaning down to plant a kiss on your temple. “Deal,” he whispered, pulling you closer as he turned his attention back to the game, but this time making sure to keep his hands far away from your thighs.
Kim sunoo - 김순우
You had always admired Sunoo’s dedication to his career, his meticulous attention to every detail of his life, especially when it came to his health and appearance. But lately, his obsession with this new diet had been pushing you to the edge. He was cutting back on meals, skipping out on food that he usually enjoyed, and it was driving you crazy. You respected his choices, but this was too much.
Today, however, you’d had enough. You found him in the kitchen, making yet another bland, low-calorie meal, and something inside you snapped.
“Sunoo, we need to talk,” you said, your voice tense as you walked up to him.
He looked up, surprised by the tone in your voice. “What’s wrong?” he asked, setting down the plate he was holding.
“What’s wrong?” you echoed, your voice rising in frustration. “What’s wrong is that you’ve been on this ridiculous diet for weeks now, and it’s not healthy! You’re not eating enough, and it’s driving me insane! I can’t stand to see you do this to yourself anymore, Sunoo!”
Sunoo blinked, caught off guard by your sudden outburst. He’d never seen you this upset before, not with him. He knew you were worried, but he hadn’t realized just how much it was affecting you.
“But I’m just trying to—” he started to explain, but you cut him off, your anger bubbling over.
“No! No more excuses!” you said, your voice firm as you stood in front of him, your eyes filled with a mix of anger and concern. “This diet is not okay, Sunoo. You’re hurting yourself, and it’s breaking my heart to watch you do this. I care about you too much to let you keep going like this.”
Sunoo’s shoulders slumped, and he looked down at the floor, his usual bright energy nowhere to be seen. He felt a pang of guilt in his chest as he realized how much his actions had been affecting you. He’d been so focused on his own goals that he hadn’t considered how his behavior was impacting the people who cared about him—especially you.
He didn’t know what to say, so he just stood there, pouting slightly, his gaze fixed on the ground. The silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable.
You took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but your heart was still pounding in your chest. “Sunoo, I love you,” you said, your voice softer now. “But this has to stop. You’re perfect the way you are, and you don’t need to do this to yourself. Please, promise me you’ll stop this diet.”
Sunoo looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of guilt and remorse. He knew you were right, and he hated seeing you this upset. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”
“Then promise me,” you insisted, your tone gentle but firm. “Promise me you’ll stop.”
Sunoo nodded slowly, the weight of his promise settling heavily on his shoulders. “I promise,” he said quietly, finally meeting your gaze. “I’ll stop.”
You let out a sigh of relief, feeling the tension slowly drain from your body. You stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. “Thank you,” you whispered against his shoulder. “I just want you to be healthy and happy.”
Sunoo hugged you back, holding you close. “I will be,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. He knew he had a lot to work on, but with you by his side, he knew he could do it.
Yang jungwon - 양중원
You loved Jungwon more than anything. He was kind, thoughtful, and always knew how to make you smile. But there was one thing that drove you absolutely insane—his obsession with mukbang videos. It wasn’t just a casual interest; he would play them at any given moment, whether you were eating, cuddling, or just trying to relax. Normally, you’d let it slide because, well, it made him happy. But tonight was different. You were PMSing, already feeling irritable and craving a bit of comfort, but instead of the soothing presence of your boyfriend, you were greeted with the obnoxious sound of someone slurping noodles on full blast.
As you entered the living room, there he was—your big dork of a boyfriend, sitting in front of the TV with a plate of food in front of him, grinning ear to ear as the mukbang video played. The sound of exaggerated chewing and slurping filled the room, making your skin crawl. You tried to push through it, telling yourself that it wasn’t a big deal, but the longer it went on, the more unbearable it became. The misophonia you suffered from flared up, and every sound felt like a personal attack on your sanity.
“Jungwon,” you called out, trying to keep your voice steady, but the irritation was evident.
He didn’t seem to notice your tone, too engrossed in the video. “Yeah?” he replied, not even turning to look at you, his eyes glued to the screen.
That was it. The last straw. You couldn’t take it anymore. “Jungwon, I swear to God, if you don’t stop that stupid video right now, I might as well unplug the TV, kick you out, and throw the TV out with you!”
Jungwon’s eyes widened in shock as he finally turned to face you, his expression dumbfounded. He’d never heard you this angry before, especially not over something as seemingly harmless as a video. But seeing the genuine frustration in your eyes, he immediately realized how serious you were.
“I—I’m sorry,” he stammered, quickly grabbing the remote and pausing the video. The room fell into blessed silence, and he looked at you with wide, apologetic eyes. “I didn’t know it was bothering you that much.”
You let out a long breath, the tension in your shoulders slowly easing now that the noise was gone. “It’s just… I can’t deal with it right now, especially tonight. I need a little sympathy, not more noise.”
Jungwon’s expression softened, and he immediately moved to sit beside you on the couch. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, gently pulling you into his arms. “Here, you can have my food. I’ll turn off the TV, and we can just relax together.”
You looked up at him, your irritation fading as you saw the concern in his eyes. He really hadn’t meant any harm, and now that you’d gotten your frustration out, you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for snapping at him. But Jungwon wasn’t upset; if anything, he looked relieved that he could make it right.
“Thank you,” you mumbled, accepting his offer and taking a bite of his food. It tasted even better knowing he cared enough to listen to you.
Jungwon smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Anything for you,” he said, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. And with that, he settled beside you, the two of you finding comfort in each other’s presence, with no mukbang videos in sight.
Ni- ki -남편
You and Ni-ki had just returned home from what felt like the longest, most exhausting day ever. Every part of your body ached, and all you wanted to do was collapse into bed and drift off to sleep. Ni-ki, however, had other plans. Despite having gone through the same grueling day as you, he seemed completely unfazed as he immediately made a beeline for his PlayStation. It was his go-to stress relief, and as much as you loved him, you couldn’t understand how he had the energy to play after a day like this.
You tried to ignore it, convincing yourself that you could sleep through the sounds of his game. But as soon as you started drifting off, the loud, agitating sound of the PlayStation starting up filled the room, followed by the unmistakable noise of gunfire and explosions. You groaned, turning over in bed and pulling the blanket over your head.
But then came the worst part—Ni-ki’s screams. Each time he lost, he let out these deep, guttural growls that seemed to shake the room. His voice, usually comforting, was now the most irritating sound in the world. You pressed a pillow over your head, trying to block out the noise, but it was no use. The sounds seeped through, and your patience was wearing thin.
“Niki, scream one more time. I dare you,” you muttered, your voice muffled by the pillow but still laced with irritation.
He thought you were joking, so he let out another loud yell when he lost the next round. That was it. You sat up, grabbed the nearest pillow, and threw it directly at his head. It hit him squarely, and he turned around, eyes wide in surprise, as he pulled off his headset.
“If I even hear you breathe right now, Ni-ki,” you snapped, your voice low and deadly serious, “I will dig my hands so deep in your throat and snatch your voice box out. Let’s see how you’ll be able to scream again at 3 a.m. in the morning. Ni-ki, don’t test me.”
Ni-ki’s eyes widened even more, and for a moment, he was completely speechless. He’d never seen you this upset before, and it shocked him to his core. He quickly realized you were not in the mood for jokes or more noise.
“Okay, okay! I’m sorry, I’ll stop,” he mumbled, quickly turning off the PlayStation and sitting down quietly beside you, looking at you like a scolded puppy.
You let out a heavy sigh, the anger slowly ebbing away now that the room was finally quiet. “Thank you,” you muttered, lying back down and pulling the covers over yourself again.
Ni-ki slid under the covers beside you, cautiously wrapping an arm around your waist. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to annoy you,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise.”
You softened at his words, and though you were still a bit frustrated, you appreciated his apology. “Just… no more games this late, okay? I really need to sleep.”
“I promise,” he repeated, holding you close as you finally started to relax. The two of you drifted off to sleep, with no more interruptions, and the only sound left in the room was the quiet, steady rhythm of Ni-ki’s breathing as he cuddled up to you.
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nadvs · 3 days ago
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the act of unravelling (part two)
pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader
rating mature 18+
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summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.
tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.
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Rafe stands and looks down at the body, his fists clenched tightly. Reality is setting in now. He could go to prison. His future could be ruined.
He’s perpetually at the mercy of his impulsivity, thinking only of the minute he’s living in, burdened with the consequences later. But still, even with his head a little clearer, he doesn’t regret this.
Ripping away the life of a man who wronged him was a thrill. He spends every day feeling like he’s losing and the power he had in his hands tonight felt so fucking good. He won for once.
You feel heavy as you push yourself up off the floor. You wish you could curl up in your bathtub under hot, gushing water, washing away everything that happened tonight.
The corpse is harder to look at with every second that passes. You glance up at Rafe, blood splattered on his face as he stares down at what he’d done, at what you’d done, chillingly unfazed.
“We can’t leave anything that’ll point back to me,” he mumbles, his voice low over the fireworks still crackling outside.
“Or me,” you have to remind him tensely.
His eyes land on yours. He’s always only looking out for himself. He doesn’t know what it’s like to have to worry about someone else.
“I’m serious,” you urge. Your survival instinct rushes through you for the second time tonight. You refuse to let Rafe throw you to the wolves. “I saved your life. You owe me. I won’t take the fall for this.”
“Well, neither will I,” he snaps.
“You shot him.”
“I could say you did,” Rafe replies. “And it’d be your word against mine. What then?”
You scoff, in disbelief of his selfishness.
“I saved your life,” you repeat. “Does that mean nothing to you?”
Rafe swallows hard. He’s not sure many people would do what you did for him tonight. They’d watch. They’d let him die. The possibility that you might feel something for him makes his chest twist with an unfamiliar warmth.
“We’ll look out for each other, alright?” he relents, letting his guard down for a moment. “Let’s just clean this up.”
Your phone buzzes in your pocket again. You pull it out, seeing Pope’s name. Twelve missed calls.
You hope your friends don’t get so worried that they come up here, ignoring the Off Limits sign Porter had put up across the stairs. But they don’t know where you went. You’re almost certain.
“My friends keep calling me,” you whisper.
Rafe’s jaw tightens. His friends aren’t worrying about him.
“You can’t answer them,” he snaps.
“I know.” You let out a shaky sigh, tucking your phone back into your pocket. “We have to be fast. What do we do? Do we bury him?”
Rafe takes a beat to think.
“We dump him in the ocean,” he finally says. “We go to the marina and drive my boat out far enough where nobody will find him.”
“How do we move him so nobody sees? We can’t go through the house. We might run into someone.”
Rafe looks to the glass door on the other end of the room, the balcony offering a view of the inky night sky.
“There,” he says. “We’ll push him off and put him in the back of my truck.”
You consider it. Of the limited options you have, it seems like the only one worth trying.
“Okay. We have to clean the blood off the floor,” you say. “And everything we touch needs to be wiped. Maybe there’s something with bleach in it around here?”
For the first time since you entered this room, you feel hope. There’s a chance, a real chance, you could get away with this. You look back at the desk Rafe ransacked.
“Pick that stuff up,” you say. Frustration rolls through him. He never liked being bossed around. “I’ll try to find something to clean with.”
“Don’t let anyone see you,” Rafe mutters.
“How stupid do you think I am?” you huff before you turn towards the door.
You tiptoe through the second story, peeking into a bathroom cupboard. When you find a spray bottle that reads Cleaner and Bleach on the packaging, you grab it and head back to the room.
You and Rafe move quickly and quietly, using clothes you found in the closet to wipe everything with bleach. After a loud, consonant cracking of fireworks that you assume is the grand finale, the show ends. And you know people are on their way back to the house.
The neighbor’s private beach can’t be that far away. You have a minute. Maybe two.
You’re glad Rafe thinks to find the shell of the bullet. He puts it in his pocket. You spray the bleach over the floor again, cleaning every drop of blood you can see.
“Tuck this stuff under his shirt,” you say breathlessly, handing Rafe the bottle and the blood-soaked clothes.
You can’t do it. You know you’ll need to touch him when you move him, but you’d rather limit the contact you have with his body. Even dead, when he can’t hurt you, touching him is terrifying.
You pick the gun up off the floor, then open the balcony, relieved you can’t hear any voices yet. You peer over the edge to see the sandy ground. The balcony overlooks the side of the house, dark and secluded.
Rafe grunts as he drags the corpse out onto the balcony. You have to muster up every bit of strength you have as you help heave Porter’s body over the railing. He falls with a hard thud, facedown in the sand.
You have to jump the balcony. You can’t risk going downstairs. Rafe is wide-eyed as you hitch your leg over the railing, looking down with shaky breaths.
“Wait,” he whispers. “Let me go first. If you break something, we’re fucked.”
He shifts down as low as he can before letting his feet hang over the edge. He lets go, dropping hard, his ankles pinching with pain from the impact.
“Okay,” he says. “Go.”
You feel a splinter dig into your palm as you clutch onto the wooden railing with one hand while the other holds the gun. You make the split-second decision to keep the balcony door open to air out the smell of bleach.
You hope you cleaned away every drop of blood in the room. There’s no going back to it now.
You sink, hanging as low as you can, looking over your shoulder before you drop. Rafe’s arms wrap around you as your feet hit the ground, his chest hard against your back, breaking your fall.
“If someone comes,” he whispers in your ear, “run.”
Waiting for him to get his truck is torture. The humid night air presses against your face and you can’t bear to look down at the body on the ground.
Rafe returns and you move quickly, straining as you carry the body over the uneven terrain, the soles of your shoes slipping on the sand.
Once the body is in the trunk and Rafe unfolds the cover, blanketing the cab and concealing the evidence, you feel a shred less frightened.
You glance back into the darkness just in case. A glow of a phone screen is in the sand. Rafe is already behind the wheel, demanding that you get in, his voice carrying through the open rear window.
You feel for your phone. It’s still in your pocket.
“Do you have your phone?” you whisper.
He responds after a moment, “Yes. Get in.”
“I think his phone fell on the ground when we were carrying him,” you say. “We should–”
Faint laughs in the distance interrupt you. There’s no time to run back and get the phone without being seen.
“Get the hell in,” Rafe mutters angrily.
You obey, swinging open the door, barely closing it in time as Rafe peels away. Your muscles prick from the weight you’d just carried as you drive past the partygoers coming back from watching fireworks.
“Holy shit,” Rafe chuckles, near elated. “We did it.”
You stare ahead, your head foggy.
This will haunt you for the rest of your life. The thought forces a torrent of dread through you worse than you’ve ever felt before.
What if you’d run out of the room when Rafe and Porter came in? What if you’d left Rafe to deal with the body on his own?
What if you’d never gone upstairs?
You’re destined to agonize over the what if’s of tonight forever.
You gaze down at the gun in your lap and hold your hands out in front of you, skin stinging from the bleach. You’d wiped away the blood, but you think you’ll always see it on your hands.
You figure out that it’s a good thing you left Porter’s phone. If he was sharing his location, you’re sure the police could track where it was last before you threw it into the sea with him. They’d know exactly where to look for his body.
“We should shut off our phones,” you realize. “I think they can track GPS history from cell towers.”
Rafe digs into his pocket, glancing down to watch the screen go black.
“How’d you think of that?” he mumbles with a laugh. “Is this not your first time doing this, Pogue?”
“Nothing about this is funny,” you reply.
“Relax,” he says. “We got away with it.”
“You can’t be so sure,” you say. “One fingerprint in that room and…”
You can’t think about it.
In the paroxysm of emotions you’re already feeling, guilt digs a hole into your stomach when you see Pope’s most recent text before you power off your phone.
Answer the phone. We’re worried.
·········
The clock on Rafe’s dashboard reads 10:44 when you reach the marina. He parks right by the main dock. The place seems quiet, the water crowded with seemingly unoccupied boats.
“I’ll take a walk around to make sure we’re alone,” he says, pulling his key out of the ignition.
The car door slams shut and you’re left with a gun in your lap, a body in the trunk, and your tormenting thoughts.
Maybe you missed something back in that room.
You picture Porter’s phone lighting up in the sand. His last text to you said to come upstairs. When the cops inevitably start searching for answers, you’ll be questioned.
A minute later, Rafe swings open your door, pulling you out of your daze. You meet his glare, his hair tousled and sweaty.
“We’re good,” he says. “Move.”
Having to haul the body over the dock past darkened, quiet boats is unnerving. Ater you leave it at the back of Rafe’s boat, you stand behind him at the helm.
Your arms are crossed and the gun is tucked by your elbow, because if you learned anything tonight, it’s that you can’t trust anyone.
Rafe’s still a man. A man who takes what he wants when he wants it. A man who killed someone because he didn’t obey him. He could hurt you if he wanted to. It’s best not to be alone with him.
“I should wait in the car,” you mumble. Rafe shakes his head in frustration, driving the boat forward. The boat’s motor hums as you rock with its movements.
“No,” he mutters condescendingly. It reminds you of why underneath the stubborn pull you’ve always felt towards him, you’ve also harbored a quiet fear. Rafe is violent. Possibly enough to hurt you the same way Porter did.
You feel for the gun again. If two men have to die tonight, so be it. The fact that your mind went there chills you.
Rafe looks over at you, lips twisting in annoyance.
“Don’t feel bad for that asshole,” he mutters. “He asked for it.”
It’s the worst possible thing he could’ve said. Your throat is raw with the threat of tears. Asked for it. Would he say the same about what happened to you?
“I don’t regret it,” you tell him, sure that he’s assuming that that’s why you’re so tense. “I’m just worried we missed something.”
“If we did, nothin’ we can do about it now,” he says. You look ahead at the dark sea, moonlight shining over the water’s ripples.
“We need to figure our story out,” you say. “How’d you end up upstairs? Did anyone see you?”
“I stopped him while everyone was going outside to watch the show,” he recalls. “Told him to show me where he was keeping his coke because I heard he was selling again. It was loud. I don’t think anyone heard, but maybe someone saw. I don’t know.”
“Why do you sell?” you ask, face pinched in confusion. “Why did you even care that he was selling, too? You don't have enough money already?”
“I gotta keep your tips coming, don’t I?” he says smugly. You scoff, jarred by his blasé attitude, despising his cold arrogance.
He notices the angry scowl on your face. He’s convinced he’ll never break through the hatred you have for him.
“I want to make my own money. That’s why,” he admits. It’s half the truth, but it’s good enough.
It’s surprising to hear that Rafe, a man you thought coasted on the wealth he was born into, possesses a work ethic. Even though he uses it to deal drugs.
“Did anyone see you go upstairs?” he asks.
“I don’t think so,” you say.
“Why were you there?”
You chew on your lip, the truth sitting on your chest like a ton of bricks. There’s no point in telling him. He thinks your motive was the same as his. Money. And you’ll let him believe it.
Besides, talking about it now, merely an hour afterwards, will only make you cry again and your head is pounding from how much you’ve already wept tonight. How could you possibly say it out loud?
“To buy pot. Then I smoked too much and passed out.” You keep talking before he can ask anything else. “Are we far out enough?”
Rafe looks back to make sure the marina is out of sight before he kills the engine.
Pushing Porter’s body over the guardrail is harder than the other times you’d carried him tonight. The water is rocking the boat so much now that you’re far into the ocean. Your breath is strained as you heave him over the metal, his body hitting the water with a loud splash under the bright moon.
Rafe pulls out the bullet shell in his pocket and tosses it in the water. You know you have to throw the gun in, too. It’s hard to. But you do it.
Rafe looks over the edge now that everything is sinking to the bottom, his forearm brushing against yours. He notices how quickly you jerk away, refusing to let him touch you. The pull he feels towards you is obviously one-sided. Your eyes flit away when you look at him.
“You have blood on your face,” you tell him soberly. His temper flares, feeling stupid for thinking a girl could feel anything but afraid of him after he shot someone right in front of her. Even though she was the one who told him to do it.
You might have a deadly thirst for revenge in common, but that’s where the similarities end. He stalks past you to wash himself off in the bathroom below the deck.
You let out a shaky breath. The unexpected contact with Rafe startled you. After tonight, you’re sure you’ll always be scared to be around men you don’t know all that well. Even the ones that seem decent are just lions in sheep’s clothing. The monster that proved that to you is below the ocean’s surface now.
You look into the murky water, and despite the fear and the anxiety and dread weighing on your heart, you’re glad that this is how it ended. Porter paid the ultimate price for what he did to you. He doesn’t deserve to live, to smile, to feel anything ever again.
·········
You and Rafe sit behind the hull, the boat swaying with the tide. You start to piece together an alibi and decide to admit you were upstairs together. If even one person says they saw either one of you go up there, you won’t be caught in a lie.
As you talk, Rafe can’t take his eyes off of you. You’re clearly scared, but trying to stay level-headed. He doesn’t get how you do it. He’s always been bad at keeping his mind steady. He never had a reason to even try.
“So, I went up first after he texted me to come buy from him,” you say, hoping your voice doesn’t shake. “I got high and passed out. Then you came up with him to find his stash. We’re obviously going to have to come clean about the drugs.”
“What do you mean obviously?”
“You’re going to be a suspect the second the police start talking to people,” you tell him. “Everyone knows you had an issue with him. And why. You can’t lie about the coke. And they’ll have evidence that I was buying weed from him. We have to be honest about it. They’ll find out anyway.”
Rafe sighs, knowing you’re right.
You hug yourself as a cool breeze carries over the water. The weakness in your gaze reminds Rafe of the way you’d cried on the floor earlier tonight. Before all this, he only ever saw you as strong-willed and sharp-tongued.
Even though calming a man like Rafe down when he’s angry sounds like it’d be impossible, you figure it’s the only direction your alibi can go.
“We’ll say I talked you down and…” You shake your head. “It doesn’t make sense that we’d stay up there. I think we say we left him in his room and sat on the beach alone in front of the house to watch the fireworks from there.”
You worry it’s not enough. You’re certain that no one who knows either one of you would buy that you voluntarily spent time together.
“Maybe the cops would believe we hung out,” you mumble, “but nobody else would.”
Rafe stills. His friends like to give him crap about how much time he spends talking to you when he supposedly hates Pogues. If he told them he was with you all night, they’d say they saw it coming.
“They could,” he says after a few seconds of silence.
“My friends would never believe it,” you scoff. He purses his lips, pissed off at your tone, at the clear implication that you talk shit about him with your friends.
“It’s our only option,” he mutters sharply.
“You’re right,” you give in. “Then what? We went home before people got back? I guess that way if anyone saw us leave together, we have it covered.”
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “That’s the story.”
“Okay. It’s not great, but it’s the best we can do.” You check your phone for the time, only to remember it’s turned off. “Can you drive me home now? I’ll say my phone died. You should do the same when people ask where you’ve been.”
Rafe doesn’t admit to you that nobody was checking up on him, that nobody ever does. He only stands up to drive back to the dock.
·········
Your first priority when you get home is to text your friends, guilt consuming you now that it’s been over two hours since you last saw them and they have no idea what happened to you.
You turn on your phone to see a string of missed calls and texts from the guys. You open the group-chat and type: I’m so sorry. I’m okay. Got too high and lost track of time. Home now.
They video call you to be sure that you really made it home safe, drunkenly rambling on about how they assumed you went to see the fireworks early, leaving them to search the neighbor’s beach for you.
As you listen to them talk over each other on the phone, it’s the first time you see your reflection since you left the house, when you were oblivious to the fact that the impending hours would change you forever.
You can see it in your eyes that you’re not the same. You can only hope that they don’t catch on.
·········
It’s been three days. You haven’t been sleeping. You’ve hardly been eating. And no matter how many times you tell yourself there’s no use in thinking about how different the night could have turned out, it doesn’t stop your head from spinning into hypotheticals.
All you told your friends was that you were with a boy and that they didn’t need to know any more. Because they all see you as a sister, they were happy to be spared the details.
If only they knew. A few nights ago, you promised them you wouldn’t talk about Rafe ever again. You never would’ve thought the reason would be because you’d committed a crime together.
You’re back at work. Smiling and chatting and serving drinks and acting like everything is fine is harder than you expected.
The thought of seeing Rafe again is oddly comforting. No matter how twisted it is, you have a bond now, held together by secrecy and shared trauma. He’s the closest to knowing what you’re going through.
Even though you were afraid of him on the boat, when he dropped you off, he waited until you got into the house before he drove off. Maybe he sees you as someone he needs to protect, even if it is for his own selfish reasons.
No matter how unhinged he is, having someone like him in your corner is comforting after what you’d suffered through.
You spot Rafe sitting alone at the near empty club bar on your way out and your heart settles, but when you catch a glimpse of the flatscreen mounted on the wall a moment later, it drops. You knew it was inevitable, but it doesn’t make it any better.
Rafe swallows bitter whiskey, gazing up at the tv. Under a photo of Porter reads MISSING as his parents speak to the press. What if he went missing? Who’d care? What would his dad say – at least it wasn’t Sarah?
He looks down at the bartop. The thrill of what he did has faded. It’s not a surprise. His life is nothing but a cycle of short-lived highs.
When he sees the look on Porter’s parents’ faces on the tv, jealousy and loneliness screw a hole into his heart. He knows it’s fucked up to envy the man he killed. He doesn’t care.
His eyes drift over the bar to see you standing on the other end. You’re in shock as you stare up at the broadcast, looking guilty as hell. He glares at you until you finally meet his eyes.
Rafe curtly gestures to you to sit next to him. Even though he looks mad, you’re relieved to close the distance between you.
“You’re being obvious,” he says quietly once you sit next to him, an edge to his tone.
You look back to see only a few other people sitting in the restaurant area behind you, far from earshot. You won’t be heard, but you both know you have to speak vaguely just in case.
“Someone I know is missing,” you reply. “It’s normal to be worried about that.”
“What do you know about normal?” he scoffs.
You lock eyes, sure that you’re both replaying the night in your minds, sure that you’re both far from sane after what you did. His gaze is cold, a reflection of how angry he is that you’re not handling what happened as well as he is.
“Great talking to you,” you snip sarcastically, shifting to stand up.
“Wait,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looks at you again, this time with a bit of the hardness in his eyes gone. “We need to talk.”
(to be continued)
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destielembarker · 2 months ago
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❄️MINTY FRESH❄️
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Sebastian Stan x f!reader
Description: Sebby uses his minty mouth spray before preforming oral on reader. ❄️
Tags: oral, f!receiving, m!giving, use of pet names, reader has afab parts, cuddling, kisses, bucky barnes/winter solider reference, not beta read bc i have homework. 18+.
Note: hi, don’t try this at home. If you manage to get seb in your home lmk. DONT TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY. As someone with anxiety his reasonings made so much sense to me, but as someone with an ovulation cycle… well. Here u go. PLEASE COMMENT!
❄️❄️❄️
“Sebby.” You moan in between kisses as he pushes you down on the bed.
“Lay back doll, I wanna try something.” He says breaking the kiss. He kneels on the floor beside the bed in front of your spread legs. He looks up at you with his beautiful blue eyes as his hands travel to the waist of your jeans.
“Can I?” He says thumbing at the button.
“Please.” You whisper sitting yourself up on your elbows to watch him.
He fumbles with the buttons and slowly unzips your jeans and gently pulls them off your hips and throws them behind him.
“So beautiful…” he mumbles to himself rubbing his hands across your black lace panties. His middle finger traces down the center of your core where a wet spot has formed. You moan and throw your head back indicating to him to continue.
He leans in and kisses all over your hips making you giggle and pay attention to him.
“Off?” He says playing with the waistband of your panties.
“Off.” You nod.
He pulls down your panties and discards them along with your pants.
He let out a whimpered sigh as he pulls your legs apart to see your aching core.
“Goddamn baby girl. You’re soaking.” He said immediately playing with your clit with his fingers. You moan at the contact. His hands were so much bigger and rougher than yours.
“Please?” You say again. Motioning him for more.
He chuckles giving into your pleads by inserting his finger inside of you. You throw your head back and moan losing sight of him. He slowly moves one finger in and out of you, teasing your clit with his thumb.
“That’s a girl, get all nice and wet for me.”
Your legs begin to shake as he adds a second finger, teasing you slowly as he pushes deeper inside your cunt. Your head was thrown back and eyes screwed shut, trying not to release too quickly.
He pulls his fingers out abruptly and your eyes shoot open to stare back at him.
“Noooo…” you whimper as you watch him lick his fingers clean.
“Hey. I wanna try something new. You gonna let me do that?” He says rubbing circles on the inside of your thighs.
“Anything, please just make me feel good.” You say pushing your hips to the edge of the bed.
“Needy little thing, huh?” He says reaching into his pants pocket and pulls out his mouth spray.
You cocked your head and gave him a confused look as you watch him spray it three times into his mouth and throw it down on the floor beside him.
He grips either side of your hips and pulls you closer to his mouth.
“Let me know if it hurts.” He says as he dives directly into your pussy. Stabbing his tongue into your wet hole. You moan at the contact. His breath was so warm against your clit but,
Oh
There it is. The tingling cooling sensation. His tongue was covered in the minty fluids from the spray.
You moan and throw your head back. The sensation of both warm and cool was enveloping your core making you shiver.
“Holy shii- so good..” you moan tangling your fingers into his hair.
“God you taste so good..” he says inbetween fat licks across your pussy. His tongue danced all over you until he started sucking on your clit. His lips were so cold from the mentol. Your pussy had never felt so much sensation.
“C-cold…” you moan.
He pulls back for a moment after licking fat stripes up your clit, “yeah? Watch this.”
He leans back a little and blows a gentle stream of air onto your clit, making your back lurch forward. His hands on either side of your hips keeping you in place. The sensation was similar to the lotion you rub on his back for muscle aches.
“AH!” You say pushing yourself back on your elbows to look up at him. His beard was soaked and his blue eyes were blown as he smirked up at you.
“Too much?” He laughs.
“No! Felt weird. Good weird. Keep going.” Your head was dizzy with so many sensations.
He nods and dives deep into your cunt. His tongue expertly speared into your core, slurping up all the juices you had for him.
“So wet..”
You moan and buck your hips at the cool air hitting your clit with each syllable he spoke.
“Sebs! I’m close. F-Fuck I’m close!!”
“Cum for me baby.” He says adding emphasis to each word.
He thumbs over your clit as he sticks his tongue deep inside you. You clench down around him and let the tight band around your core snap. You jerk your hips as he leans back and watches your hole clench around nothing.
After a few moments you come back to reality while he gets up off the floor and crawls between your spread legs on the bed to your neck and kisses softly all over.
“Hey baby.” He says softly as you open your eyes. “How was that?”
“Cold.” You laugh.
He reaches in his pocket and pulls out the spray and another 3 pumps down his throat and kisses you roughly, tasting the minty saliva on his tongue.
“Ahh!” You say pulling back from the kiss. “Too much!” You laugh pushing him off you into the bed beside you.
He chuckles softly, pulling you into a spooning position as you both drift off to sleep.
After a few silent moments you jump up sitting straight up to face him.
“Does this mean that I am the winter soldier now?”
He lets out a lengthy laugh and says “Shut up!” Pulling you down next to him for another kiss.
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sanakiras · 2 months ago
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DISTRACTION
PAIRING — xu minghao x reader
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WORD COUNT — 1.5k
SYNOPSIS — you can’t help staring at your best friends’s hands. when he pushes you to tell him why, things in your relationship take a turn.
TAGS — minghao in a suit, explicit sexual content, pure self-indulgence, porn with no plot, fem!reader
NOTE — there’s something sooo attractive about a man having long fingers. also i just have a crush on the8. no i will not elaborate. might delete this later bc i don’t like it. oh well. enjoy :o
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lately, whenever being around your best friend, you’ve been... distracted.
for some reason, you’ve always liked it when men have long fingers. obviously the best known reason for that is a lewd one, but for you, it’s more than that. long fingers are hypnotizing to you.
of course it was minghao’s face that drew you in first. plump lips, eyes that could both kill and make you melt under their gaze, a strong jaw, dark hair often slicked back with a pair of sunglasses sitting on top.
then you noticed his figure. minghao is tall — long legs, long arms, long torso. what intrigued you about him was the control he has over it, alongside his flexibility. his movement is always swift, sharp and coordinated. not one to stumble over his own feet.
he became a close friend to you in no-time. within the first months of meeting him, you developed an admiration towards him, and that continued to grow into a crush you feel nothing if not insecure about.
because despite knowing him well, he’s far from an open book.
he’s not once given you the idea that he likes you the same way you like him, and now that he’s become such a good friend of yours, the last thing you’d want is to lose the friendship you’ve built with him.
so you keep it to yourself.
or, well, you try.
his current outfit makes that ridiculously hard. you’ve never seen him in a suit before.
while you weren’t all that excited for the black-tie event hosted by your faculty, just the sight of him has changed your mood like a whole day’s worth of caffeine.
and when he walks over to you, all you can do is admire him. the fabric suits his body like a glove, with several silver rings adorning his fingers and his frequently worn small hoop earrings to match them. the beautifully subtle black eye pencil brings out the colors of his eyes and styled hair.
“you look like a dream,” is the first thing to come out of his mouth when he steps before you, the tone of his voice as gentle as the smile he gives you.
heat rushes to your cheeks. “so do you. never expected to see you in a suit, but you clean up nice.”
he chuckles at your sarcasm. “thank you.”
as he tells you about — whatever it is, you honestly hardly remember a thing of the conversation — you suddenly come to the deafening conclusion that you’re nowhere near as subtle with your glances as you thought you were, which certainly bursts your bubble a bit.
“you keep doing that.” he muses, tilting his head as he looks at you with curiosity.
“what?”
“staring at my hands.”
“i’m not—i don’t stare.”
“what else would you call it? constant-looking?”
“hilarious. really.”
when you don’t say anything else, he purses his lips, hoping to get a little more out of you. you’ve got to give him credits for his determination. “so, what’s so interesting about my hands?”
with a simple shrug of your shoulders, you pretend to be casual, like he didn’t catch you staring at him. “they’re not interesting, just… nice.”
“nice?”
“can’t we just drop this? and by ‘we’ i mean you.”
he chuckles, shaking his head. “we’re friends. you can tell me, i won’t judge.”
“you? not judging anyone? that’d be almost suspicious.”
the retort makes him smile to the point it hurts his jaw. “i won’t judge you.”
a sigh rolls past your lips. “it’s no big deal, i just… like it when people have nice hands.”
“and why’s that?”
“does everything you like need to have a reason?”
"no, i guess not."
a playfulness that stirs doubt in you flashes behind his eyes, and you’re forced to put a halt to the conversation when one of your fellow faculty members walks up to the two of you with a glass of champagne, which you could not be happier with.
all you can do is hope minghao won’t bring up the topic again, the redness in your cheeks betraying you.
unfortunately, he does eventually bring it up again, once he’s gotten you home.
what his exact words were is difficult to remember, but now that he’s pushed you back onto your bed, you can’t find it in you to give a damn.
your brain feels foggy and a thin layer of sweat begins to form on your neck while he uses his hands to unbutton the white dress shirt, his impatience getting the best of him for once.
even though you’re busy pulling your top off, it’s hard to divert your gaze from his hands and chest, which brings him to tilt his head at you. “you’re staring again.”
“if you don’t want me to stare, don’t give me a reason to.”
“oh, so this whole thing is really just my fault?” he taunts, getting so annoyed with the damn buttons on his shirt not working with him that he leaves the bottom half like it already was, only the upper half of his chest peeking through.
once he lays his eyes on your half-naked form, you spot a growing desperation and impatience in his features, which is rare on him.
much to your surprise, he’s eager and quick, refusing to waste a single second. his hands have already pulled you towards him by your thighs before you can even comprehend it.
the thin silver necklace touches your warm skin when he leans down to kiss you, the last thing you’d imagined you’d be doing tonight — and it’s better than you anticipated.
he pries your legs open with a nudge of his knee, and just when you want to look down to his hand on your skin, he pushes two fingers into you, curling it upwards.
your hands immediately fly to his upper arms in response to the sudden intrusion, but it only makes you crave more.
his lips latch onto your cheeks, jaw and neck, placing wet kisses everywhere he can reach while his long fingers move in and out of you.
“just two and you’re already so tight — you can take another one, though, can’t you?”
how sweet of him to pose it as a question, an offer.
you both know damn well he’s gonna keep going either way.
minghao doesn’t know what it is about you that just utterly sets him off. it might be your constant pessimism, your snarky delivery of sarcastic little comments, the way you needlessly tease him all the time — or maybe it’s that whenever he sees you, he wants nothing more for you to get the fuck on top of him, moaning his name.
who knows.
“why don’t you just try me?” you ask rhetorically, accidentally clenching around his digits when he moves them again.
minghao chuckles, baffled that you’ve still got such an attitude, even when you’re at his mercy. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it, though. “right. maybe i should just do that.”
a third finger prodding into your hole makes you whine the loudest you have so far. he smirks a little when noticing the way you’re fighting so hard to maintain your composure, and the noise of your squelching wetness begins to become embarrassingly loud.
but it isn’t enough for him.
usually, it’s not at all like him to be insatiable or greedy. but all he can think of right now is that he wants more — to be closer with you, deeper.
he feels his own lust in every motion, every thrust of his fingers, every twitch of his cock. it makes him wonder if he’s ever wanted something, no, someone this badly.
his next move goes unnoticed by you since you’ve got your eyes closed and head back, but then you feel it, and it’s like you snap awake, an electric jolt making you jerk forward.
when you look down, he eagerly runs his tongue up and down your pussy, fingers remaining buried inside you.
“oh my god—” you stutter out, hand clutching onto the pillow but quickly moving down to grab his hair.
lost in your own pleasure, you push his head down, the lower half of his face coated in your arousal — fuck, he wants to do this for hours.
he proceeds to curl his fingers again, and he must’ve hit a good spot, because your legs are beginning to tremble, moans shorter and higher-pitched. “fuck, hao, it’s too much, i’m too close—”
“are you?” he rhetorically asks, pushing his digits as deep as possible, sucking on your clit, hollowing his cheeks. even when you try to close your legs, he firmly keeps them open.
your hips buck into his face when you cum, knees shaking, and he presses his thumb on your pussy, which makes your eyes roll back.
propping yourself up on your elbows, you suddenly feel his fingers slowly sliding out of you, and just that feeling alone already turns you on again. he sits across from you, still between your legs, and his fingers are completely coated in the sticky wetness that’s still dripping down your cunt.
he pushes them in his mouth, licking them clean, some of your arousal remaining on his lips.
“please say you’ll let me do that again.”
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® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.
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zepskies · 8 months ago
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Take Me Home - Part 6
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Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 
Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 
AN: Get ready for a rollercoaster of emotions…
Word Count: 4.6K
Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, tinge of spice~
❤️ Series Masterlist
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“Michael?! What are you doing here?” you asked. 
He stood there with determination set across his face.
“We really need to talk.”
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“We already did! Just leave me the hell alone,” you said. If your day hadn’t been long already, you knew it was about to be even longer. 
Because just as you began to close the door, Michael slapped a hand on the center of it and pushed his way into your apartment.
You gasped and had to back up a couple of steps. “What are you doing?”
“Just hear me out, and then I’ll leave,” Michael said, staring down into your eyes. “That’s all I want.”
He pushed the door closed behind him, but it swung open, just a crack. In his heated state, he hadn’t even noticed. Neither did you. You stepped back further into the center of the living room and crossed your arms with an angry frown. 
“I don’t care!” you snapped. Your patience quota for the day had run out a long time ago. “I just want to be done. Don’t you get that?”
“I know,” he said, rubbing at his eyes. He looked tired as hell; like he hadn’t been sleeping well for weeks. Now in the light of day and not a dusky bar, you could see the darkness under his eyes and the stubble on his cheeks, though he was usually clean-shaven. 
“I know and I’m sorry. I hurt you badly, and I never even told you why,” he said.
You tilted your head in contemplation. Because he was right. For all these months, you’d been so incensed at the bare facts of what he’d done, you’d never looked too deeply into the why.
The one time you’d asked him (while throwing his clothes and possessions out of your shared apartment at the time), he’d never given you a good answer.
“Okay, fine. Why did you do it then?” you asked. “Why did you betray me in the worst way possible, and still try to marry me?”
Michael sighed, his shoulders sinking. “The truth?”
That sparked your anger once more.
“No, keep lying to me like you’ve done from the very start!” you retorted.
“It wasn’t from the start!” he barked back. “It was around six months in, when we were dating. You and I had argued about something stupid. Kate came over to talk it out with me…just to talk. I swear to God. But we were drinking and…”
You let out a sigh, casting your gaze upwards. You really didn’t think you wanted to hear this after all. Michael earned your attention back though, when he took a step forward into your orbit.
“She got pregnant,” he admitted.
Your mouth fell open as your breath left your lungs. Your hands went to your temples in disbelief, and you made a sound of pure shock and distress.
“But she lost the baby early on,” he said. “She was devastated. I was too, but…I tried to help her through it. And it became this, this thing that wouldn’t let go of me. She wouldn’t let me go.”
You shook your head as furious tears welled up in your eyes. This was just too ridiculous and upsetting to compute. You didn’t even recognize the man that was standing in front of you anymore.
How could he blame Kate for what they’d done to you, and for clinging to him after losing her baby? How could he keep that from you, even when he asked you to marry him?
And how could he tell you all of this now and expect you to forgive him?
You didn’t have the words, but you held out a hand against him when he tried to take another step toward you.
“I know I fucked up. I fucked everything up. But you don’t have to come all the way here to run away,” he said. “Your parents miss you. Our friends…they all love you. And most of them rightly don’t want anything to do with me.”
He looked down then, with shame coloring his features. 
Through your tears and the struggle of collecting yourself, you studied him closely with your arms crossed.
You’d known Michael for several years. Even considering the months you two had been apart, you knew he was the same—stubborn and hot-headed and full of audacity as ever. But…he also seemed genuinely remorseful. And desperate.
“If you give me one more chance, I promise I won’t mess it up again. I’ll be the man you deserve,” he said, taking your hand and uncrossing your arms in the process. “Believe it or not, I took a week off without pay, just to be here and get a chance to say this to you: I love you. I love you. And I know now that it’s meant to be you.”
You hesitated, and even made the mistake of looking up into his eyes. They were a crisp dark blue, and yet, not the warm green you’d come to crave. You shook your head.  
“I get it, Michael. I really do…but I can’t do this anymore,” you said. “It’s too damn much.”
You began to slip your hand out of his, but he held you a fraction tighter. He frowned. 
“Are you seeing someone? Is it that guy from the other night? That cop?” Michael asked. 
“Stop it,” you warned in anger. Beau was part of the reason your heart held pain, but it wasn’t the main reason you wanted to be done with Michael Hadley.
You tried to twist your wrist out of his grip. He wouldn’t let you, instead, trying to bring you closer. 
“That’s not an answer,” he said in frustration. “Please, we can start over—”
“Let go!” you demanded. You yanked your hand out of his, and the rest came on instinct. 
Your slap was loud against his cheek, and it made your hand sting too. You also pushed him hard in the chest. Michael was forced to step back while holding his reddening face. He looked back at you in disbelief. 
You were breathing hard, shocked even at yourself. You’d never done that before in your life, but then again, never had you felt the panic of a man holding you against your will. 
Michael’s brows furrowed. He called to you in a pleading tone, and he reached for your arm to placate you.
You quickly stepped back again on reflex. Your heel tripped on the tile floor and you gasped as you felt yourself careening back…onto the glass coffee table behind you.
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After putting his investigation of Avery to bed for the night, Beau felt drained on all counts.
He punctuated the end of his day by calling to check up on Frank Davis, the local firehouse chief, and the father of one of the firefighters who was killed a few months back. Brett, one of the other victims, had carried the guilt of his best friend’s death to his grave. 
Inevitably, that case brought up old memories for Beau. It also reminded him of you, and the situation with your firefighter ex-boyfriend. ‘Scuse me, ex-fiancé.
He also felt bad about how things ended with you in his office. He knew he wasn’t being fair to you. 
As his daughter reminded him the other night, if he’d just been a bit more “open” and honest, maybe he could’ve saved his marriage.
Now with Michael likely trailing you, he didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t come to him, or even call him for that matter.
He seemed to be a bit of a hothead too, Beau thought. While he climbed into his truck and peeled out of the station, he debated stopping by to see you. Carla and Emily wouldn’t be getting over to his place for a couple of hours. That did give him some time. 
And when it came down to it, was he a man, or was he a coward?
He knew it wouldn’t sit right with him if he didn’t try to make this right, in whatever small way.
So with that decision made in his mind, he drove over to your apartment complex. When he parked in one of the guest spots, he noticed another one occupied by a rental car, a gray sedan.
A small tingling of unease buzzed in the back of his mind. Beau approached your building, went inside, and started up the stairs. When he began to hear raised voices, a man and a woman who sounded too much like you, that gut feeling became a red hot alarm making his chest tighten.
He took the stairs nearly two at a time to get up to the second floor, where he saw that the door to your apartment unit was cracked open. He could hear glass shattering from inside.
He sprinted down the hall, and with a hand on his gun at his belt, he swung the door open.
The first thing he saw was Michael’s tall frame standing over you, frozen in shock. You were lying on your side amidst a shattered coffee table, fallen through the wooden frame. There was glass everywhere and underneath you, with magazines and pictures and other knickknacks strewn across the floor.
“What the hell’s going on here?!” Beau barked out.
Michael had turned at the sound of the door banging open. He met the sheriff with wide eyes. Beau’s expression set with a grim, angry frown. Though he willed himself to hold his temper in check, he immediately stepped forward and grabbed Michael’s shoulder, pushing him back and creating space between him and you.
“Step back,” the sheriff snapped.
“Beau,” you uttered in disbelief. You had tears in your eyes at the sight of him.
“Hey, darlin’,” said Beau. His voice was still rough, but more gentle for you. He knelt down at your side and carefully wrapped an arm around your waist to help lift you off the glass.
“You okay?” he asked you.
“Y-Yeah.” Though you raised one of your hands from the ground and blanched at the sight of a sizable piece of glass embedded in your palm. Beau’s lips flattened into a line.
He paused for a moment, turning his head back towards Michael.
“Stay exactly where you are,” he ordered, in a tone that boded no argument.
And Michael offered none. He stood there with furrowed brows. He even looked on at you in worry and frustration, knowing he couldn’t help you. He could only watch the sheriff make slow movements to help you out of the glass.
“Okay, slow for me,” Beau said. He spoke to you in low, calming tones whenever you made a sound of pain. He hooked an arm under your knees and lifted you out of the coffee table’s remains.
“Easy, I gotcha,” he murmured, helping you sit on the couch. You folded your legs off to the side, so you weren’t continuing to step in the glass on bare feet. Besides your right palm, your arm and right thigh had a few bleeding cuts of various degrees.  
After making a short glance at a still concerned Michael, Beau turned to you.
“Did he push you?” he asked.
“No, I didn’t fucking push her!” Michael said. 
“He didn’t,” you confirmed. “But he did shove his way into my apartment.”
Beau’s jaw tightened. He looked back at Michael, and his gaze demanded an answer. 
“I just—I just wanted to talk! Obviously I didn’t mean for this. Goddamn it,” Michael said, wiping a frustrated hand over his face. “Are you okay?”
You sighed. Beau set a hand on your shoulder. 
“Do you want to press charges for trespassing?” Beau asked you.
“Oh, come on!” Michael exclaimed. Beau pointed at him with a hard stare.
“You pipe the hell down,” he said tersely. “And don’t you move a damn inch. Because if you do, so help me, it’ll just about make my day.”
He flashed the other man a look at the handcuffs (and the gun) on his belt.
Beau then returned his attention to you. You were attempting to pick the glass out of your hand. He stilled your movements with a gentle hand on your wrist. 
“Hey, hey, wait on that for me, okay?” he asked. You looked up at him tiredly. 
“It’s okay. Just let him go,” you said. You shifted your gaze to Michael. “Go back to Chicago, for real this time. I’m not going anywhere.”
Michael’s face became disheartened, but his eyes fell to your injured hand. Blood was streaming all the way down your forearm and dripping on the tile floor, along with the other smears of blood amongst glass. 
He knew what he’d done. It made him even more sick with himself.
He turned to leave.
You watched him go, and you could no longer hold in your quiet tears. It wasn’t for him leaving. You just couldn’t believe it had all come to this. 
Beau lightly squeezed your shoulder. 
“Hey, I’ll be right back, okay?” he said. “Do me a favor and don’t move.”
“Okay,” you said, in an uncharacteristically small voice.
Beau tried to give you a reassuring smile. He gave into the desire to sweep a stray lock of hair away from your eyes, allowing him to brush your cheek with his fingers. You gave him a small smile back, despite your watery eyes.
Beau nodded and got up from the couch. He made swift strides out of the apartment, making sure to close the door behind him. He then hastened down the hall and the stairs to catch up with Michael in the parking lot. Beau was hot on his trail to the rental car.
“Hey!” he called out.
Michael paused in his gait. He turned to face the sheriff, sporting a look of frustration.
“What?” he shot back.
“You better take her warning for the gift it is,” Beau said. He closed the distance between him and Michael, but resisted the urge to grab the other man and hurl him against the car.
“It’s time for you to go home,” Beau said. “I don’t want to see you in town. I don’t want to hear that you’re following her around or blowing up her phone. Do you hear me?”
Michael stood straighter, his jaw working in anger.
“Are you threatening me, Sheriff?” he asked.
“No. I’m thinking you’ll be smart enough to take some friendly advice,” Beau said, but his eyes were sharp. “If I have to threaten you, then we really will have a problem.”
Michael was younger, leaner, probably faster, but Beau edged him out by a couple of inches, on both height and build.
“Just let her get on with her life,” said Beau.
Fortunately, the standoff didn’t last long.
Michael’s anger soon relented, letting the guilt and shame shine through.
“Make sure she’s okay,” he said. “Tell her…that I’m sorry.”
Then he turned and walked away. Beau watched him get into his car and leave the premises.
It wasn’t until the rumble of the engine faded away that Beau released the clenched fists at his sides. He pivoted slowly on his heel and made his way back up to your apartment.
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And your door was locked.
On one hand, he understood your fears. On the other hand, he’d asked you not to move from the couch.
“Who is it?” you asked, after he knocked.
“It’s just me, don’t worry,” Beau answered. You opened the door with your good hand and let him in, while holding up your bloody one with a bunch of crumpled gauze and medical tape hanging down your arm. It looked like you got the glass shard out, but you were struggling on the “wrapping it up” part.
“Oh, sweetheart, I asked you to wait for me,” he said. His brows furrowed as he took your wrist and elbow to steady you.
“Yeah, well, I got impatient,” you replied, but your attempt at a smile lightened him too. 
Beau followed you to the kitchen sink and grasped your hand carefully. You’d already cleaned and sterilized the wound, so all he had to do was wrap it for you with some gauze and medical tape. 
“This is kind of deep. You might wanna go to the ER,” he said. “I could take you.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s really not that deep,” you replied.
“You sure?” Beau asked, frowning at you. “How you doin’? You okay?”
Your face had been tight with pain while he tried to get the wrapping right with deft hands. At his questioning, you softened with a wry smile. 
“I’m fine, more or less,” you said. “But…how…why were you here to begin with? How’d you know I was in trouble?”
Beau met your gaze for a moment. He was able to delay answering your question until he finished wrapping your hand. Afterwards, he sighed.
“I came to apologize,” he admitted. “But first, can I help you clean up around here? You just sit and relax. I’ll sweep up all this glass and mop the floor.”
You let out a long breath, your shoulders sinking. “Oh, Beau, don’t. You don’t have to do all that.”
“But see, I actually want to,” he said, giving you one of those grins you’ve come to know and expect. You couldn’t help but smile back.
“Okay.”
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A thorough sweep, vacuum, and mopping, then a couple of cracked open beers and an order of Chinese later (plus cleaning and patching up the rest of your cuts), Beau sat next to you at the dining table and officially made his apology.
“I’m sorry for how things turned out today at the precinct,” he said.
You shook your head. You’d had some time to think about all of that, and there were things you could’ve handled better too.
“Beau, look. I get it,” you said. “You’re dealing with a lot at work, with Carla and Emily too, and…really, we haven’t known each other all that long. It wasn’t fair of me to expect you to open up on something that clearly still hurts you. Especially in the middle of your office.”
Beau let out a breath through his nose. He smiled and laid a gentle hand over your uninjured one, earning your widened gaze.
“You’re a sweetheart for that, but the truth is, you had a point today,” he said. “I’m a difficult man to know. It’s a flaw of mine that my ex-wife has pointed out several times. And even my daughter. Sometimes she looks at me like she can’t understand me.”
You bit the inside of your lip. You debated asking the question you wanted to ask. With his hand over yours, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand, you were able to gather your courage.
“Does it have something to do with the reason you were in grief counseling?” you asked. “About your partner on the job?”
Beau nodded, his smile fading. “Yeah, it does. It has a lot to do with Randy.”
He took a moment, but you gave him the time he needed to find his words. Eventually he began to explain to you what happened in Houston.
How he’d been an upper-level officer dealing with a narcotics case. His partner, Randy Santos, had volunteered to infiltrate a drug cartel undercover. He stayed in the field for a few months longer than protocol, but he was so close, he’d claimed. One bust, and they could arrest the kingpin. The entire cartel would crumble.
Beau had backed him up with the Chief, against his better judgment. When the time came that Randy had helped arrange a drug deal, Beau was the one leading the squad on the bust.
“It went south so fast,” he said.
And he paused in his story for a moment. His eyes were far away, lost in memories.
You squeezed his hand over yours to bring him back. He met your gaze.
“When it got down to it, I had two choices,” he said. “Take out the boss, or take out the guy right in front of me, Dante. Now, Dante had his back turned. He couldn’t see me. Would’ve been fish in a barrel…but I went for the head of the snake. I shot the kingpin. I didn’t realize that Dante had already burned Randy. Knew he was a cop.”
Beau met your gaze then. “Dante shot Randy in the head, point blank.”
Your mouth fell open in disheartened shock. Beau took a long sip of his beer, wishing it was whiskey.
“I saw it all…in slow motion. Just like the movies,” he said. “I see it almost every night, without fail.”
You shook your head helplessly. “Beau. It’s not—”
“Not my fault?” Beau gave you a sad smile. “Oh, but it was. Nothing else to it. Bad leadership. bad police work. Bad friend.”
He continued to drink his beer.
“And I checked out,” he said. “My wife and daughter paid the price of my absence. Picking myself off the bottom of whatever crusty bar would have me that night. Refusing to go to counseling. Generally making an ass of myself.”
You covered his hand with your bandaged one. It got him to look at you and forget his beer for a moment.
“It was a hard call,” you said. “Anyone could’ve made the same one you did.”
“Yeah. And it got my best friend killed,” Beau said. “His wife, his ten-year-old boy, his parents. They’ll never be the same because I messed up. I can’t abide that.” 
He sucked in an unsteady breath. “It still…sometimes I wake out of a dead sleep, and I see his face. I see the body they brought back.”
His eyes were red and shining. The emotion in his voice choked you up as well, making your eyes sting. 
You raised a hand to touch his cheek, your thumb drifting tenderly across his chin. 
“You’re not a difficult man to know,” you said. A tear found its way down your cheek, and then another. You didn’t bother to wipe them away. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, it’s that you care. About your team, your family, everyone…even messy, accident-prone women.”
You gave him a smile at the last bit. He was able to give you one back, through his own unsteady breath.
“Especially those,” he agreed. Your hand moved down to his shoulder. 
“And you also like to eat. A lot,” you quipped. “I think you’ve got about three stomachs.”
“Probably four, realistically,” he said with a tearful laugh. He wiped at his face with both hands. You waited for him to meet your gaze again before you continued.  
“You’re also an old-fashioned cowboy,” you said, with a brighter smile. Your hand slid down, this time to his chest, over his heart. “But you’re a good man, Beau. That, I knew from the very beginning.”
Beau clasped your hand where it lay on his chest, almost on reflex. He was sure you could feel his heart tripping up, double timing. He reached out for your cheek, guiding your face up to his. He leaned over slowly, giving you time to say no, whether with words or with actions.
But your eyes, though still a bit shiny from tears, were nothing but beautifully welcoming. So he took a shot. He began to cross the distance between your lips and his.
And his phone buzzed on the table, making both of you jolt. 
It was just a text message. Frowning, Beau looked over and read the preview. When he saw Emily’s name, he cursed under his breath. He reached for his phone and opened up the message.
Hey, where are you?
“Shit,” he said. “Emily’s been staying with me all week and Carla’s joining us tonight, to be safe. They’re there already, asking where I am.”
You would be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed beyond measure, but you nodded.
“Then you should go,” you said.
You squeezed his hand before you released him. Beau wasn’t happy about it either, but he did the same. He helped you clean up the dining table and gathered up his wallet and keys. You walked him over to the front door, where Beau debated how he should leave this.
The door was open, literally and figuratively as you leaned against its frame. You couldn’t hide your unease. You didn’t know where this left the two of you either.
Beau sighed and propped a curled finger under your chin, earning your gaze.
“I need to settle some things. After…” he trailed. You nodded at what he was trying to say.
“When Carla and Emily have stability again, we can talk,” you finished for him. “I’ll be here.” 
He looked at you in wonder. 
“You’ll really wait for that?” he asked. His brows creased, and he truly marveled at your patience with him. “You know you don’t have to.”
A smile curved your lips. “Something tells me you’re worth waiting for, Sheriff Arlen.”
Beau grinned at you fondly. He cupped the side of your face and pressed a kiss to your cheek. 
“Well, thank God for that,” he said. “Really, thank you…”
Lord help him, but he couldn’t help himself. He finally crossed the distance and kissed you.
Your chest rose with your breath, but when your eyes fell shut, you couldn’t help but melt against him. You gripped the front of his buttoned-down shirt for stability while his fingers tangled in your hair. It all grew with heat when he tilted his head, tasting you deeper with each new kiss.
He pressed you into the doorframe, trapping your body with his. You held onto him like a lifeline.
While his hands drifted down your back and rested on your hips, bunching the material of your pretty yellow sundress, you twined your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you. He felt your every curve, soft breasts and thighs and sweet sighs.
He released a sound of pleasure, deep in his throat. His lips veered away from yours to burn a slow trail down to your neck. He was satisfied by the way you moaned and struggled to catch your breath at his ministrations.
Your fingers wound up sweeping through his hair. It both soothed and aroused him, somehow. But Beau knew if he didn’t stop here, he wouldn’t be able to again.
He laid one last kiss under your ear that hinted with teeth, making you shudder. He pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against yours. You two breathed together for a moment, just existing here, hearts racing.
“I gotta go,” he said. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
You nodded, biting your lip. He pulled back further and thumbed at your lower lip. 
“Don’t do that, or I just might have to go back on my word,” he said, giving you a smirk.
You smiled in amusement. “Promise?”
Beau chuckled. He stole one more heated kiss before he withdrew from you, his hand lingering on your cheek. Heaving a sigh, you turned him around by his broad shoulders and reluctantly sent him on his way. 
Halfway down the hall, he slowed to look back at you. Seeing you leaning against your door, still catching your breath, all hot and bothered…it nearly broke his resolve.
“Nope,” he muttered.
He shook his head and forced himself to keep walking until he hit the stairwell for the umpteenth time today. 
He would stop three more times on the way to his car before he actually left your building.
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AN: 😘 So, how'd you like the official "end" of Michael Hadley? And finally, finally, we get to a first kiss. In Part 7, we enter some even deeper waters...
Next Time:
“I’m actually glad you’re here,” she said. “I’ve kinda got a question for you.”
“Kinda?” you echoed with a smile, but you pat her on the knee. “What’s on your mind, honey?”
Emily looked a little unsure. It had you giving her your undivided attention.
“It’s about my dad,” she began. Your smile slowly fell, but now you were really listening.
“Okay,” you nodded.
Emily opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, the lights in the entire office went out.
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 7
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Ko-Fi Me ☕
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272 notes · View notes
secret-sweetheart · 6 months ago
Text
Sampo nsfw headcanons
COME EAT SAMPO FANS I HAVE FOOD!! He needs more in the smut tag (I’m probably saying this cuz im obsessed tho…)
Note: I am a minor writing smut, please do not interact if you aren’t comfortable with that (this includes leaving anything in my ask box or messages).
Content notes: mentions of choking, overstimulation, there’s a lot of kinky shit because it’s Sampo out of all people. This is gender neutral, no mention of reader’s genitals so all homies can read this 🗣️
“Love me up and down, a little bit harder now”
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This man’s a tease. A mean one too
He’ll tease you so subtly in public that nobody knows you’re teasing except him, so you have to act calm so people don’t catch what’s happening
Yet when you tease he gets so whiny (as if he doesn’t tease so much 🙄)
He’s a switch if you couldn’t tell
This man’s a SLUT. He has experience and knows how it works
Slept around either for fun or to make sure he gets exactly what he wants in business deals
He’s a bit above average but he isn’t so big it’s scary. He’s a bit on the thinner side but still a bit thick so you’ll feel it
Chill with almost any kinks, his kinks are degrading, praise, overstimulation, edging, brat taming, bondage- he has a list of them
If he’s topping he’s going to be dirty talking so much (QUIT YOUR YAPPING 💀)
He’s teasing you through the whole thing, degrading or praising you- maybe even a mix of both
Also if he has your consent he is into choking you, he likes the power and he does it just right so you can get that nice and pleasant light headed feeling
Feel free to choke him as well! He’s very into the thought of being dominated and choked
Tbh it might turn him on more if you’re smaller compared to him (maybe a bit of a size kink?) if you’re smaller and topping (or just trying to) he’s getting hard a lot quicker. He’ll either give in or switch the roles and fuck you stupid
When you’re topping him he’s shameless with those noises, constantly begging for more and whining, talking about how good it feels and telling you to keep going
It’s your choice to either give him what he wants or make him beg even more. Overstim or edge him, he won’t be fighting back with the position you’re in with him
He’s also very in to toys! He probably managed the staff to give him a discount somehow
If he’s using them on you be prepared to lose your ability to think straight and walk straight
He loves tying you up and using all kinds of toys on you until you’re crying from pleasure, one of his favorite things to do
At this point he doesn’t even need to fuck you to satisfy himself, seeing you whine and beg for his dick instead of the toys almost satisfies him enough
When he finally does agree to fuck you it would make sense for him to put the toys away, right? No. He’s keeping them, he’s gonna use them while he’s fucking you so he can see you get overwhelmed and sensitive
When he’s the bottom it’s a sight to see. Tie him up and use a vibrator on him and you’ll have him moaning so loudly in no time. Or even better- use a dildo on him and let him feel how big it is (if it vibrates you’re going to get a noise complaint from the neighbors so be aware of that)
After all of that he’s pretty good at aftercare! (If he’s awake for it that is)
He’ll carry you into a nice bath and make sure you’re all cleaned up, he’ll join you too and hug you if you’re fine with being touched after
He cleans the sheets and everything, gets some pajamas ready for you too
If he was the sub/bottom, he’s probably going to be too lazy to move and will just cling and whine to you, telling you everything can be cleaned in the morning
I LOVE SAMPO RAHHH
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alloftheimagines · 2 years ago
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joel miller | survive
masterlist | taglist | ko-fi
words: 4.7k
warnings: 18+! not for minors! please please please read the warnings and skip this one if you're uncomfortable with the subject matter.
episode eight reimagining with the same hard-hitting themes: blood, violence, cannibalism, sexual assault, killing, abduction, vomit. reader takes the place of ellie. angst. hurt/comfort. no happy ending as requested because i wasn't sure that could exist in these circumstances, but there is now a part two where joel takes care of reader and the fic ends on a lighter note.
prompt: Hi! Would love to request something for Joel Miller 🥰 Angst but with a happy ending, after seeing episode 8 I thought maybe reader is with Joel and Ellie, but this time Ellie stays back to keep an eye on Joel so reader gets kidnapped and is the one Joel basically comes back from the dead to save? hahshxdjfbf I just imagine them reuniting and UGH 🥹❤️ Feel free to ignore this if inspiration doesn’t strike!
tags: @sweetbabygirlsworld
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You’re terrified of losing Joel. So terrified that instead of watching him shiver and sweat on an old, bloodied mattress as his infection spreads, you opt to go out and hunt. It isn’t solely selfish. You need food, and Ellie needs to rest. At least this way you’re doing something productive rather than waiting for a miracle. 
Still, it’s difficult to concentrate on anything but the knot in your stomach, the one that keeps asking “what if?” What if Joel doesn’t make it? How will you survive past that grief for long enough to keep Ellie safe? How will you go back to Jackson and tell Tommy that his brother is gone?
You’re lost in those thoughts when you hear the crunching of snow, and you try to shake them away, readying Joel’s shotgun as you search for the source. 
A deer. It’s so beautiful that for a second, you forget that it’s supposed to be your next meal. You’d forgotten beauty still existed in a world so broken, forgotten that nature can still be kind. 
But humans can’t. Not if you want to survive; not if you want Joel to survive. 
You take a deep breath. Adjust your posture. Shoot. 
The bullet doesn’t hit where you want it to; where you know you should have been aiming if only you weren’t so distracted. The deer darts away. Whispering a curse, you follow the trail of blood —
And find more than you bargained for. Two men wait with the dying deer at their feet. They look… clean. Comfortable. Not people struggling to find food or clothing. You raise your gun again immediately, and theirs point back at you. 
“Put your guns down,” you order, trying to sound braver than you feel. You did alright before Joel came into your life, but it’s been a while since you’ve been alone and it’s hard to summon the strength that used to come so easy. 
“You first,” the darker-haired man says, narrowing his gaze. 
The fairer man glances warily before slowly lowering his. Good. At least one of them is smart. 
“Not going to happen. On the ground. Kick it away.” You shift on your feet, gripping your gun tightly and readying your finger on the trigger. You don’t enjoy killing people, but you will if you have to. If it means getting back to Joel and Ellie. 
“James,” the unarmed man says, calm authority firm in his voice. The one in charge, then. “Do as she says.” He holds up his hands in surrender as his friend, James, finally puts his gun away. “We mean no trouble. We’d just like to talk.”
“So talk,” you bite out, making no move to lower your own gun. 
“Alright.” His breath is visible in the cool air, nose pink and runny. “My name is David. This is James. We’re from a town just south of here.”
“Good for you. Maybe you should go back now.”
An amused smirk twitches at his mouth. “Thing is, we have a lot of mouths to feed down there, and this deer… it would keep us going for a week. Maybe two.”
“Shame it isn’t yours,” you say.
A short sigh escapes him. “Right. It is a shame. But if I could offer you warm shelter and good food, a welcoming community, why couldn’t we share?” 
You raise your eyebrows. “I’m not interested in negotiating.”
“With all due respect, ma’am… as far as I can tell, you’re all alone in these woods. There’s no reason why you have to be.”
It’s clear the other man, James, isn’t in on David’s kind offer. His mouth is pursed in a thin line, jaw grinding as though he’s holding back from saying something. Welcoming community, my ass. 
Still, an idea strikes. You need something else more than you need the deer, and if this town has supplies… “You have medicine in this town of yours?”
David hesitates before dipping his head. “We do.”
“Antibiotics?”
“Yes…”
Hope swells in you for the first time since Joel was injured. 
“If you put the gun down, we’d be much more open to discussing what it is you need,” he continues. “Please?”
Gulping, you slowly lower your gun — but you keep it in your hand just in case, stomach still filled with unease. Not every settlement will be like Jackson, and there’s something… off about these two. 
“If you get me that medicine, you can have the deer.”
“We can do you one better. We have a nurse down in the village who can help you with your injury. If you just come with us…”
“No,” you say. “You’ll bring the medicine here, to me.”
Another strange smile. “You’ll be much more likely to survive the winter if you let us help you.”
Impatient, you raise your gun again. “Bring it or stop wasting my damn time.”
David lifts his hands again. “Okay. Alright. James, go and fetch what the lady needs.” 
“David—” James begins to protest, but is quickly cut off. 
“Go on now.” 
Reluctantly, he does, and then it’s just the two of you. 
“I know a place you can get warm,” he offers. “It’s just through the trees. An old greenhouse. No need to wait out here in the cold.”
It makes your gut twist, how he seems to be determined to get you moving, to take you out of these woods. And there’s a glint in his eye, something untrustworthy there — even his right-hand man seemed to see it. Nobody follows orders like that with pure reasons. He’s… scared, or at least threatened. 
“I’m fine just here.”
“Okay. What’s your name?”
“I’m the one holding a gun, which means I’ll be the one asking questions. How many people are there in this town of yours?”
“Forty. Like I said, there’s room for one more. Perhaps it was God’s will, us meeting today.”
Oh, good, you think. He’s a God botherer. You didn’t particularly subscribe to religion before the world turned to shit, and you sure as hell have better things to do than pray now. 
“Unless you’re not alone.” His voice seems to lower as though he knows something, and you stiffen instinctively. “Is the injury yours?”
“It’s none of your business.”
He no longer seems to be staring down the barrel of your gun, but right into you. “Because a few of our men had some trouble a few days ago. A man, a woman, and a young girl. Man was thought to be badly injured, you see. If he lived… well, I’d imagine that kinda wound would be susceptible to a nasty infection.”
He knows. He always knew. The raiders you crossed paths with, the ones who hurt Joel… 
You no longer feel like the one holding the gun. You feel like the deer bleeding on the snow between you. Prey. Still, you set your chin. “I don’t know what you mean. I travel alone.”
“See, I believe you, but the thing is… my friend, James… he’s not so certain. I’d imagine that once he comes back with that medicine, he’ll be rounding up a few men to go hunting for these people. If what you’re saying is true, I wouldn’t want you to be caught in the middle of that. That’s why it’s much safer you just come with me now, see?” 
Your upper lip curls into a warning snarl, finger twitching on the gun’s trigger. But if you kill him, you won’t get Joel’s medicine. You’ll lose him. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” 
“Hmm.” He debates this. “There’s a third option.”
“Not interested.”
“I think you are,” he pushes. “I think you’re one of them, and I think you’re trying to help your man. Very noble, but strange. You don’t seem a good match. You’re so… young, so calm, and from what I hear, he’s dangerous. Ruthless, even. A cold-blooded killer. Maybe if you come into town with me now, we can arrange for that medicine to be delivered without my brigade charging in and doing some damage. There’s a place for you. Your daughter, too. You don’t need to be tied to him anymore.”
You want to scoff, or else laugh in his face. Does he believe you’re that simple, that stupid? Does he believe you’re a fucking damsel in need of saving?
Anger simmers in you at the thought. “I think it’s about time you shut up.” You point the barrel at his head now, right between his brows.
He doesn’t balk, doesn’t tremble, doesn’t so much as blink, and you’re beginning to understand. He’s the type of man who uses religion to veil whatever monster lies beneath. He isn’t some small-town do-gooder, though he might believe it. 
You dread to think what he might be capable of. 
“I think it’s about time you drop your weapon.” The voice doesn’t belong to David. It comes from behind along with the feeling of cold metal against the back of your skull. You risk a glance over your shoulder to see the man from before, James. You should have heard him creep up, should have seen, but you were so focused on the one in front of you.
Your heart thunders as you realise you might not get out of it this time. 
“We only want you to come with us,” David says, eyes round with feigned innocence. “That’s all. We don’t want to hurt you.”
“The gun to my head says otherwise. What would God say about this?” you retort, dripping venom because it’s all you have left. 
A strange sadness crosses David’s face. “It didn’t have to be this way.”
Before you can pull the trigger, something heavy slams into your skull, and then darkness swallows you whole. 
***
You wake in a cage, the taste of blood on your tongue and your wrists bound by rope. David is on the other side of the bars in what looks to be a kitchen, utensils hanging on the wall. Great butchers’ knives and cleavers wink at you in the watery daylight. You go cold with fear, crawling to the furthest corner of the cage. 
“Let me go,” you say. “Let me go!” 
“I’m sorry. It’s for your own good,” he says. “You were corrupted, but I can help you see the light again.”
“Why are you doing this?” You’re choking on a sob, thoughts of Joel and Ellie running through your mind. What if they found them? Joel is in and out of consciousness and Ellie can’t fight on her own. 
David curls his fingers around the bars. “It’s God’s will. I was meant to meet you today. This is where you’re supposed to be.”
“In a fucking cage?” you spit, voice echoing around the kitchen. You pull at the rope until your skin splits, crying out when you realise this is it. There’s no way out. You’re trapped, and you have no idea what this man truly wants with you. 
“This is merely a precaution,” he says. “I was wrong about you before. You are dangerous too. You have a dark heart, just like me. If you would just surrender, you could be part of this community.”
You squeeze your eyes closed, clamping down on a plea. You doubt it will do any good. Still, tears roll down your cheeks. “Fuck you,” you whisper. 
“You don’t understand yet. You will.” David takes a step back, and somehow the prospect of him leaving you here causes your stomach to turn to water. 
“Don’t do this,” you say. But he walks away with a glint in his eye that promises he will be back, and you’re left alone. 
Dizziness rattles through you as you pull yourself onto your feet, testing the sturdiness of the bars in hopes you’ll find a weak spot. But it’s padlocked closed and the screws are in tightly —
Something catches your eye, pale and fleshy on the kitchen tiles. 
An ear. 
In the kitchen. 
You vomit without warning as it all comes together. You wonder if the community even knows that their leader feeds them people. Wonder who was last in this cage and how long it took for them to become a meal. 
You scramble against the ropes again and pray — not to whatever fucked up God David worships, but someone — that you find a way out. 
***
“Joel!” Ellie shakes him frantically and finally he comes to. Sweat glistens on his forehead, his face drawn and pale, but he finally ate something earlier and she’s been keeping him hydrated as he drifts in and out of sleep.
Now, he frowns and hums in question.
“Y/N isn’t back. She didn’t come back, and now people are here.”
The sound of shuffling outside is only growing louder, and she keeps her voice to a whisper as fear grips her. It’s not like you to go more than two hours without checking in, even if you haven’t caught anything for dinner yet. That four hours have passed means something is wrong, and Ellie doesn’t know what to do, how to find you. She needs Joel. She needs you. 
“What?” Joel struggles to sit up, the mattress groaning under his weight as he clutches his injured stomach. But he’s alert, awake, and that’s better than he’s been in days. 
“She isn’t back,” Ellie says again, voice trembling now. “Someone’s here, Joel. They know about us.” 
Understanding clears through the fog in his eyes slowly, and he looks up as he hears the floorboards creak above. “Shit,” he curses, dragging himself slowly to his knees. Ellie watches, pulling out her own gun. “Hide somewhere. Let me deal with it.”
He’s in no fit state to deal with anything, but when Ellie protests, he shushes her and orders her to do as he says, so she does. And as he readies himself for a fight he can’t win, panic rushes through him. You’re not back. Somebody is here. 
He’s failed again, or at least is about to, and this time it’s you he’s afraid to lose. 
He summons that anger when the silhouette slowly stalks down the stairs. Summons it a lot more when he’s throwing an arm around the idiot’s neck to squeeze the life out of him. 
***
Joel has forgotten his injury. He’s forgotten anything but you; the thought of you alone, in danger, afraid. His fingers curl into fists at his side, and when the attacker finally rouses, he orders Ellie to leave the room. He doesn’t want her to see what comes next; who he becomes when he’s trying to protect the people he loves. 
Nausea twists through him, but it mingles with anticipation. Some sick excitement. He’s good at being violent. Better at being vengeful. 
“Where is she?” he asks, voice just steady enough to be assertive. 
The attacker mumbles something, and Joel’s patience quickly dwindles. 
“Who are you?” he asks, louder now. 
The attacker shakes his head. Doesn’t want to play. 
Joel brandishes his knife. 
The attacker’s eyes widen in fear as he presses the point into his finger, ignoring the throbbing in his stomach. “You want to do this the hard way?”
“I'm not telling you anything.”
Joel tilts his head and clenches his jaw. Then in one swift motion, he’s gripping the arms of the chair the attacker is tied to, quivering with anger as he towers over him. “Last chance.”
The attacker purses his lips, and Joel steps back, watching him sink in relief — relishing in that false sense of security. Then he throws the first punch, the impact of fist to jaw singing through his bones. He shakes out his hand, punches again. Blood splatters, but he goes again twice more just for good measure, growing weaker with every blow. He stops when he realises that, knowing he needs to conserve his energy to get to you. 
“Where the fuck is she?” he bellows.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about!” 
He plunges the knife into the attackers knee, the sound of bone crunching and flesh squelching as blood dribbles down his jeans and the attacker cries out. That’s when he begins to beg. That’s when Joel knows he’ll tell him anything. 
“Alright!” he’s whimpering. “Alright, please!” 
“Tell me where she is or I swear to god, I’ll pop you’re fucking kneecap off.” Joel drives the blade deeper, thirsty now. Desperate. He can’t do this without you. He needs you safe. If he finds out you’re hurt…
“With David!” he blubbers. “She’s with David in town!” 
“What tooooown?” (oh, you thought I wouldn’t?)
“Silver Lake!” 
“Who the fuck is David and what does he want with her?” 
“He…” the man chokes on his own sobs again, and Joel tugs on the knife, earning a piercing scream. “I don’t know what he wants, okay? He’s the leader! He… he took to her, I don’t know!” 
A chill crawls down Joel’s spine and his vision blurs as he pauses. His blood-drenched fingers tremble, and he doesn’t know how to make them stop. “What do you mean, he took to her?” 
The man spits out blood. “He likes her. Wants her to join him. I don’t know, man. I don’t know. I told you everything.” 
Joel wants to tear him apart then and there, but he pulls out his map, yanking the knife from the man’s knee to put the hilt in his mouth. The attacker howls, tears streaking down his cheeks. Joel wants to tell him he’ll do a lot fucking worse if he finds you harmed. He wants to say a lot of things, but cotton fills his mouth and he needs to find you. He needs to stop wasting time. “Point it out to me.”
“It’s not a real town. It’s just a fucking community. I don’t know.”
Joel grips the man’s collar, and his voice falls deathly low. “Point it out to me or I’ll make sure your other knee matches.”
It’s enough motivation for the attacker to pinpoint a spot. His blood stains the map, highlighting a small valley between the forest and mountains. 
Joel puts the map in his back pocket and slits the man’s throat before he can beg for his life. He’s not feeling merciful today. 
***
David comes back for you an hour later. “Have you reconsidered?” 
You only glare at him, your wrists bloody and your eyes gritty from so many shed tears. To your surprise, he unlocks the cage. Despite your better instinct, you stay seated, stay calm. You won’t get out of this if you try to run now. He has the upper hand, and you’ll let him have it, hoping his arrogance, his underestimation of you, will be his downfall. 
“You must be hungry,” he says. “Come. Let me show you what I can offer.”
Shakily, you rise from the ground. “Will you at least untie me?”
“I’ll think about it.”
He leads you out of your kitchen. When he’s not looking, you lean your back to the table and snatch an abandoned knife, slipping it up your sleeve. 
The front of the building is laid out like an old, cheap restaurant and bar, candles burning and booths lining the windows. 
“I’m glad you’ve calmed down,” he says. “Now we’ll get a chance to know each other properly.”
Slowly, you begin to saw at the rope with the knife as he leads you to a booth. Two plates are set at the table, a candle lit in the middle, and you think about the ear on the floor. Wonder if the meat in the stew is not animal, not your deer. You want to throw up again, but you swallow down the bile in favour of relief: the rope has snapped. You keep your hands behind your back as you shuffle in your seat, trying to avoid looking at the meal. The smell of it makes your stomach turn. 
“What do you want from me?” you ask finally. 
David places a napkin on his lap. “I’m showing you hospitality. Hospitality you haven���t earned, might I add. Where is your gratitude?”
“Where the fuck is my medicine?”
Without warning, he stands and slaps you, and you can’t control your anger as the sting prickles along your cheekbone. You throw your plate at him, the food splattering his face and staining his shirt, and then you run. 
A mistake. He hauls you back quickly, and the two of you topple to the floor as he slams your wrist down, forcing the knife away. He pins your hands and then straddles you, and you know what comes next. You know, and you shouldn’t, and this isn’t happening. 
“You need to be taught some manners,” he croons, taking your chin in his hands. “A girl like you… you need to learn how to submit. Especially when we’re married. But don’t worry.” He leans down as you squirm, whispering into your ear, “We have time for that.”
“No!” You shout, slapping him away and doing your best to wriggle away. But he’s heavy on top of you, and he’s reaching for his belt, and there’s no way out. No hope. Nothing. “Get the fuck off me, you sick bastard!” 
He slaps you again, lash twice as hard this time, and you taste blood. 
You refuse to let it end like this. You refuse to let him destroy you. You let your body go slack as he unbuckles his belt, reaching out a hand and scrambling for the knife again. It’s under a chair not far from you — you just have to wriggle a little further. 
“It’s sad that you can’t accept that this is how it’s supposed to be. This is God’s will. You and me… we’re the same, underneath. We have the same violent heart,” David is muttering, and there, your fingertips brush the hilt. Determination renewed, you extend yourself again and this time the knife falls into your hand. 
You don’t have time to think; he’s unbuttoning his jeans, and like hell are you going to spend another moment beneath him. You drive the knife straight into his neck, and his eyes bulge as he gurgles on his own blood. As he goes limp, you push him off you — and stab again, again, again, spitting every bit of revenge into your movements as his blood covers his skin and your clothes. 
“You twisted fucker!” you’re yelling, tears rolling down your face as the shock draws in, the disgust. He’d been so close to taking you. So close to making you a victim after so long spent fighting to be a survivor. “Go to fucking hell!” 
You only stop when the fear numbs and you realise he’s no longer moving. Blood soaks both his shirt and yours, and you push yourself off him. His dead, milky eyes stare at you. When you catch a candle guttering in your periphery, you grab it. Crouch with it in your hand. Light him on fire. The flames spread along his clothes, and that’s how you leave him. 
Ashes. Bloodied, dead ashes. 
***
Joel and Ellie have fought their way through a blizzard. He’s surprised he’s still upright, but he saw bodies hanging in the stable and he can’t collapse now. Not for Ellie, and not for you. This community is built on something worse than infected or fascism, and when he found your jacket, your backpack, in that same room as the corpses… 
He can’t see anything but red and white. 
Ellie stops behind him suddenly. “Did you hear that?”
“What?” He catches his breath, looking around. There’s a long building close by, but he hasn’t seen any movement yet. 
A scream rents through the air, and he knows it’s you. His heart picks up, stomach plummeting as he runs around to find the entrance. And there you are, collapsing out of the doorway. 
He says your name as he catches your wrist, and you instantly cower away, screaming. “Please, no! Please, don’t!” 
He’s never heard you beg for anything before, and his world tilts on its axis. What the fuck have they done to you?
“Baby, it’s me!” He draws you close, cupping your jaw with his palms. Your eyes are haunted, face pale, and there’s blood. So much blood. You’re still fighting him, pushing on his chest, and he stumbles back. “It’s me. Look at me. It’s me, darlin’. It’s Joel!”
Your breaths are ragged as realisation finally dawns across your features. “Joel,” you whisper. 
“It’s me,” he says again, eyes filling with tears.
Your gaze moves to Ellie, and only then do you crumple. He catches you just before you fall to your knees, straining against his injury. “Oh, baby. Oh, baby girl,” he murmurs into your hair. “I’m here now. I’m here now. You’re okay.”
Sobs wrack through you and he wraps his arms around you, holding on so tight he worries he might hurt you. But you clutch his shoulders just as hard, fingernails digging through his coat. You shake beneath him, and his own tears drip onto his cheeks. He pulls away quickly to look you up and down. Blood streaks through your hair.
“Where are you hurt, baby? Tell me where it hurts.”
You shake your head. “I… I don’t know. I don’t know, Joel. I don’t…”
It’s like you’re not even here with him, and he wants to break. But he has to stay upright for you. He has to be strong for you. He shrugs his coat off quickly and puts it around you, catching sight of your reddened wrists as you adjust the collar. Those bastards tied you up. Hatred drowns him, and he looks at the building you emerged from only to find orange flames flickering in the window. It must have been you, he knows, and he can at least feel proud of you for that, but still, the thought of what they might have done...
“Alright. Come on. Let’s get out of here.” He pulls you to his chest, offering his other hand out for Elllie. She takes it, looking shaky as she carries both her bag and yours. 
“They were… They were eating people, Joel,” you say, voice thick and unrecognisable. “I just wanted to get medicine, and they took me. They took me. They were eating people and he was going to… He wanted…” 
“I know,” he murmurs, holding you tighter. “I know.”
You stop without warning. “They said they had medicine. You… We have to go back.”
“No, no, hey.” He laces his fingers through yours. “We ain’t going back there for anything.”
“The infection—” you protest.
“Look at me. I’m here. I’m okay. I just needed to rest is all. We don’t need any medicine now. We just need to get you somewhere safe.” His heart pangs. The fact you’ve been through hell and are still willing to go back to help him… sometimes he wishes you weren’t so damn selfless. He should have been the one protecting you today. It’s his fault you’re here. His fault you’re hurt. 
You scrape your hair back and then, looking at your shaky fingers, seem to finally see all the blood. “His blood is in my hair.”
He can at least be relieved it isn’t your own, but the look on your face… he’s never seen so many scars written in one expression. 
“I need to get it out. I need…”
“We’re gonna. We’re gonna help you clean up soon, okay?” He tucks your hair away, lost, because he doesn’t know how to do anything else. Doesn’t know how to make it all go away. “I’m so sorry, baby.” His voice cracks.
Your chest heaves with a stifled sob as you rub your hands and look out towards the lake. “Oh, god.”
Joel closes his eyes, wrought with regret. At his side, Ellie turns her gaze to the floor. It’s his worst fear come true. The reason he’d tried to get Tommy on board with taking Ellie the rest of the way. 
He’d failed again. Was always failing. 
All he can do is hold you close as you fall apart.
2K notes · View notes
deanbrainrotwritings · 11 months ago
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—  SWEET KANSAS HONEY
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SUMMARY : invited by her friend to a bee farm, but Dean wasn’t invited to their cute day out. Dean gets pouty… and, ya know, horny.
PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : lavender mcclenic (oc), athena fonseca (oc)
WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), phone sex, dirty talk, sexting, voice kink, masturbation 
WORD COUNT : 1.5k
A/N : jamies elsewhere song title. this fills the free space square on my @jacklesversebingo card. lavender is based off of my best friend (athena is based off her gf) we have fictional plans to live on a farm, and have a tunnel connecting our houses LOL xxx
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“Ah, this is exactly what we said our future would look like,” Y/n grinned, fixing the sunglasses on her face. She turned to face her friend, who did the same, walking towards the little shed where they could change into protective gear.
“Not really,” Lavender laughed, “you’ve got a boyfriend you love with all your cheesy heart. We don’t have a tunnel under our house like we said we’d have,” she listed, playfully. Y/n rolled her eyes and kicked the door open gently, sliding her foot along the bottom of the door as she stepped in before Lavender, looking around curiously. 
“Well, at least we’re still here, on a farm, makin’ money,” Y/n grinned, letting the door shut once her friend was inside collecting the white suits for them to slip into. Y/n placed her phone on the wooden table inside, the walls decorated with tools, and other items she didn’t know how to use. 
She changed quietly with Lavender, lifting the white suit over her regular clothes. They looked up at the same time and bursted out laughing for no reason at all. They were both bad at emotions, at least at saying them out loud, but Y/n had a feeling that laughter was a wordless I missed you. The phone on the table buzzed and Lavender looked over curiously when Y/n didn’t look. 
“It’s that boyfriend of yours,” Lavender teased, “you were so against dating, remember that?” Y/n shook her head and laughed, making sure she was ready to leave as Lav finished up.
“Whatever. So were you,” she dismissed, grabbing her phone with bare hands at the text notification with Dean’s name. She smiled, but she didn’t open it, and Dean sent another message. Her smile got wider.
“We grew up then,” her friend suggested, walking towards the door to open it with her back. 
“Sort of, I still like bees and honey,” Y/n told her, taking her own gloves before following her friend out.
“And I still think we should build a tunnel connecting our two houses. There’s plenty of land. I’d… do anything for you,” Lav hesitated with the last part, her cheeks turning pink. 
“Lav… that’s sweet, but-”
“The offer stands. Five years, or tomorrow—until we lose it all.” Lavender waved her hand to dismiss it and walked faster to avoid the embarrassment of being, well, loving. Dean texted her once more and she groaned softly. Either it’s an emergency or Dean’s just trying to get her attention. 
“I’m gonna…” Y/n trailed off and Lavender turned around and tilted her head at her friend. She lifted her phone and shook it. 
“Yeah, go, before I embarrass us both and keep saying sappy shit like that. I need a cleanse,” Lavender grunted, meeting her girlfriend who had the honey collecting tools on standby.
“Me too,” Y/n smiled, then turned around to check Dean’s messages. 
dean : Good morning, sexy, it’s been fifteen hours since I last saw you and I’m bored. So bored. How did I go through my childhood without you? :((
She laughed softly. 
dean : I woke up early and I was so cold because you weren’t sleeping next to me. 
Liar. He wears socks, pyjama pants, and a Henley to sleep. He’s the one who provides the warmth. Of course, he was just trying to be cute. And it was working. 
dean : I did a whole bunch of chores though. I cooked. Took Miracle out for a walk. Cleaned our room. And the Dean Cave. But I’m done now.
She smiled as she imagined him doing all of that. He’s undeniably adorable. He knew that. He knew how much he meant to her. She saw three speech bubbles appear, so she waited for his next message. 
dean : Oh. Hi, baby. I see you’re reading my texts now. I just want you to know… I’m picturing you coming home with a whole bunch of honey. And guess what? I’m licking it off your body. Yummy. 
She bit her lip as heat bloomed across her face. 
me : Good morning, handsome. I miss you, too. You’ve finished doing all that? Why don’t you watch a movie now? Read one of those books you’ve been wanting to read. Go to that bar that serves your favourite nachos, boys’ night out. I’ve got loads of suggestions if you run out. 
me : Also, you weren’t cold, but that’s cute. 
me : Second also, you can’t text things like that when we’re not together… very naughty, I don’t appreciate it. X
She saw the speech bubble again and she bit her lip, looking across at Athena and Lavender laughing together while they scraped the panels for honey. She smiled at them and missed Dean even more. 
She didn’t expect to see a photo. Not one quite like the one Dean sent. 
“Jesus Christ,” she muttered, looking back up. She clicked the photo anyway, a smile growing on her face, and arousal dampening her underwear.
Dean was in the shower. 
Of course he’d take his phone with him. Of course he’d take the chance to get off. He had a high sex drive. He was daring. Unafraid. And he knew how hot he was. Especially all naked and wet. With his body all taut and flushed pink from the heat of the water. With his face distorted in delicious pleasure as he touched himself, his lip plump and trapped beneath his cute teeth. With his hand wrapped tightly around his cock. 
dean : I fig read what you seny 
She laughed softly. And decided to call him instead. He picked up instantly. She heard the water falling against tile and skin before she heard his heavy breaths or his husky voice. 
“Dean,” she whispered, her cheeks on fire.
“Hi, babe,” Dean moaned and she gasped, her stomach twisting with excitement. “I was expecting a text, a photo, not a phone call, but, uh, I appreciate it.” She shook her head, listening closely to the loud, lewd, sound of his wet hand moving quickly along his cock. 
“You’re jerking off?” She blurted out, looking up at Lavender and Athena who were waving her over impatiently. She smiled at them and nodded, putting her finger up. 
“Mmm, my morning’s been good, too. Well, kinda, thanks for asking, beautiful,” he replied sarcastically, moaning occasionally as he spoke. Her clit pulse and she squeezed her thighs to stop the discomfort of her arousal. 
“Dean…” She moaned, but there was a hint of hesitation that he picked up on. He groaned. 
“I’ll hang up, but please, text me something dirty so I get at least a bit of reality in my fantasy,” he begged. She heard him swear quietly and then he laughed breathlessly. 
She closed her eyes and thought about what to do. What to say. He sounded so hot, groaning and moaning her name, pumping his cock through his fingers faster and faster. 
“Dean,” she purred. He hummed softly, distracted by his pleasure. “Be a good boy and cum for me,” she instructed, smirking when he groaned long and loud. “I want to hear you, baby. Fuck, I wish I could see you. I wish I had you in my mouth right now so I can swallow every ounce of your cum.” Dean cursed loudly, brokenly moaning her name as he came.
He panted into the phone and she bit her lip, waiting patiently for him to recompose himself. 
“Ah, fuck,” he murmured and she lifted a brow curiously. “That was hot, baby. We should do it often. Like… even when you are here. I’ll be in the dungeon and you can be in the garage,” he laughed softly to himself and she rolled her eyes. “I miss you. I know it hasn't been that long and that I’ve been sleeping for a majority of the time… I guess I’m just not used to being alone anymore. Without you. I’m sorry for interrupting your time with your friend.”
Her smile softened. “I miss you, too, Dean. And it’s okay… I’ll be back Sunday evening. That’s tomorrow, by the way,” she teased and Dean laughed shyly.
“You didn’t say yes or no to my idea,” he reminded her. 
She smiled. “Of course it’s a yes.”
“How about tonight? Can we set up a time for it?” He asked excitedly, then the water shut off, and she heard his wet footsteps, then the soft sound of his towel. 
“Yes, I’ll text you,” she breathed out. “Now, stop doing… whatever it was that turned you on, and get some proper work done,” she laughed, putting one glove on as she prepared to go with her friends.
“I… just got horny suddenly when I was taking a break. I was reading… ya know, All About Love,” he hesitated. 
“What? Why?” She laughed, but she knew him well, and she’d read the book. “Stop thinking of me. It makes me wet,” she pouted playfully and he laughed again. “And next time you take a break, don’t touch your dick… Until I tell you to do so,” she added with a grin.
“I love you.” She could hear the smile in Dean’s voice, the open and shut of doors. 
“I love you, Dean,” she responded lovingly. She could hear him breath softly and hum shyly, a whispered bye, and she hung up. 
“Wow, you just throw around the L word, now, eh?” Lavender teased as Y/n walked closer to them, ready to join them. Y/n laughed sarcastically and Athena giggled. 
“Shut up,” Y/n grumbled, playfully snatching the tool in Lavender’s hand to help them out.
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taglist
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main masterlist
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dean’s 45th birthday celebration masterlist
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© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 
do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform
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bella-goths-wife · 8 months ago
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How would the Vees reaction to their pet falling to stockholm syndrome? Do they loose interest, do they become more obsessive, does this make them act out more to try and gain more control? So many questions!
Yandere Vs reaction to pet reader falling to Stockholm syndrome
Warnings: Valentino, abuse, punishments, verbal abuse, pushing boundaries
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I think it all depends on in what way the Stockholm Syndrome presents itself
If it meant that you becoming less hesitant about doing what they asked and being more submissive while still retaining your personality and keeping your humanity in tact, they would adore it
They would instantly become more obsessive over you, because the lack of resistance would mean that they would get more pieces of you than before
They’d get to experience a certain vulnerability with you, and it would make them feel powerful to know what a command they have over you
I mean, you actually look at them with affection now
You’ve accepted your respective role as their daughter figure/pet/personal entertainment
And this would cause many more fights over who could have you for the day
They have an established schedule put in place for you because at the start of you working there, there would be many times when one of them would interrupt you when you were working with another one and steal you away
So they made a schedule that is only allowed to be disobeyed for punishments or emergencies
But after you become less resistant to your role, they’ll all want to spend every moment with you
So one will interrupt another one’s day with you and cause an argument over you
But Vox will quickly fix this by updating the schedule to suit these needs and forcing you to spend more time with them outside of the working hours
However, if Stockholm syndrome caused you to be more submissive while also loosing your personality they would absolutely hate it
Sure they love that your following orders, but your not filling their social or entertainment needs while doing so
They wanted you less resistant, but they didn’t want to completely break you
You wouldn’t fulfil your role as their pet, your just an emotionless puppet who cleans up after them
They will do anything they can to bring out your personality again
At first it was bribing you with things that are seen as rule breaking, such as offering you time outside the tower without them or being let out past curfew
But you didn’t want to leave without them, you said that you couldn’t break the rules
So they started leaving situations for rule breaks out for you to try and coax your spirit back, like leaving food your not allowed to eat out or pushing you to spend alone time with someone they knew you were physically attracted to
But you’d leave the food and always kept it professional with your old crush
So they turned to punishments
They went through voxs punishments, and nothing
And then velvettes, still nothing
And finally Valentino’s punishments, and still nothing
They even did all there punishments combined when they became desperate, but you just accepted it and asked how you could improve your work for next time
They gave up, they couldn’t do it anymore
They still somewhat cared for you, in their own sick ways
So they wouldn’t completely lose interest, your very presence would be enough to keep some interest going
And your useful, so they would keep you around and they don’t move you out from their floor of the tower to the employees floors because they still have some care for you
And sometimes they will all come in for some affection from you, although it isn’t as fun for some of them anymore
Even though your still useful, they keep you around kinda like you’d keep the extremely old dog that can’t care for itself anymore because they were passed on to you
Your just no fun for them anymore, but that doesn’t mean they can’t keep you around for when they feel the need to hurt or hold someone
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Tag list so far :)
@buttercupfangirl @the-faceless-bride @lilyalone @repostingmyfavs
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perlelune · 1 year ago
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Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | vii.
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Happy, carefree college days meet their abrupt end when every guy who approaches you mysteriously turns up dead.
Warnings: NON-CON, Stalking, Bimbo!Reader, Clueless Reader, Loss of Virginity, Incel Ethan, Cheerleader Reader, Skin Carving (w/knife), Canon Typical Slashing, Voyeurism, Kidnapping, Forced Masturbation, Filming, Blackmail
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
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The brightness of the floodlights beaming across the stadium rivals that of the stars' peppering the sky. The bleachers are packed, students waving and cheering from the crowd at the lined up players. 
Tension hangs in the air, so thick and palpable you feel the weight of it clogging your airways. 
Shaking your shoulders and strengthening your spine, you rush to join the other cheerleaders at the edge of the field. 
The minute she notices you, Alana makes a beeline for you, her blonde ponytail swinging from left to right and her forehead creased with a deep wrinkle of displeasure. 
You go still and keep your gaze low as she approaches. A lion might cower beneath the sharp coolness of her glare. 
If anyone can make someone flinch with her eyes alone, it's Alana. 
"Where the hell were you?" she blurts out without ceremony, sternly planting herself before you with her arms crossed.
Words stumble out of you in a nervous heap.
"I-I ran into a friend and-" you start but she interrupts you with a dismissive wave of her immaculately manicured hand. 
"Nevermind, the game’s about to start," she says, gripping her temple and releasing a deep, irritated sigh. She squints and mutters below her breath, "Just because I moved you from flyer to backspot doesn’t mean you get to slack off."
Your heart pinches at that. After Halloween night, nothing was the same. While Alana agreed to let you remain a member of the squad, she shifted your position when the rumors about you being in cahoots with Ghostface spread around campus like wildfire. 
She didn’t want you to sully the squeaky clean image of the team. So you were relegated to the bottom of the pyramid where you could blend in and not bring too much attention to yourself.
You don’t mind it excessively. The looks people give you are one thing. You’ve learnt to brush off the unfortunate scrutiny. 
But being part of the team…it’s the one thing in your life you’re actually good at. 
Damn near everything else, you have spectacularly failed at. 
Cheerleading makes you feel good about yourself. 
You don’t want to lose that. 
Lisa tosses a questioning glance your way, green eyes flicking to Ethan up in the bleachers, diligently snapping pictures. 
He notices you peering up at him and smiles at you but, unlike every other time, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes and he quickly looks away. 
When your focus settles on Lisa again, confusion etched on features, your heart sinks. 
You mouth the word 'later' to her. As she nods at you, your stomach knots at the prospect of the conversation ahead.
If only you could tell her now, rip the band-aid…but the game's about to start. 
You held high hopes for it to work out. Lisa was voted 'hottie of the month' more times than anyone else on the team. 
Everyone who meets her instantly falls for her charm and stunning looks. 
She also has many hobbies outside of cheerleading, from video games to card games you couldn’t understand anything about if you tried your hardest. 
You thought she and Ethan would click and make such an amazing couple. 
It never occurred to you he might already like someone else. You can’t remember getting a glimpse of him with any girl no matter how much you scratch your mind to recall. 
Now your curiosity is piqued about this mystery girl.
Ethan sounded so taken with her. 
She must be quite the girl to have stolen his heart like that, probably as cool and smart as he is. 
Maybe you could try to set them up instead. 
You're still hell-bent on figuring out a way to thank him for how much he's been there for you lately.
Helping him gather the courage to pursue the girl of his dreams could be one way to do that.
Alana claps her hands, her attention pivoting to the whole team, the other girls’ tense expressions mirroring yours. "Everyone, showtime!" she finally announces.
Thoughts vacate your mind as you lift your pom-poms and concentrate on performing the routine to perfection. You don’t miss a single step, losing yourself to the beat played by the band.
You can’t help but bask in pride when you land a perfect pirouette, never faltering once. 
Everything’s right again. Simple and easy. 
The thrill of the game. The bated breath each time the opposite team tilts the odds in their favor. 
The rush of victory. 
Victory.
Before you know it, the game’s over and the elated clamor of the crowd is filling the stadium. 
Amidst the overflow of joy erupting around you, Tyler fights his way through the crowd to reach you. 
He’s still in his football uniform when he effortlessly lifts you from the ground and whirls you in the air.
"You’re my good luck charm, gorgeous," he beams. 
You laugh as your head spins. "Ty, put me down."
He does as you say, keeping his hands on your waist to steady you when your feet touch the grassy floor again. 
"Sorry," he chuckles. "Got carried away."
As he bends over you and his lips graze your cheek, your stomach flutters. 
He rears back, blushing while holding your hands. "I’m sorry. Was that okay?"
Mouth agape, you blink up at him. "It’s totally okay," you stammer, heat rising in your cheeks. 
You’d missed that feeling, the simplicity of casual flirtation and having a crush. 
The euphoric bubble is popped when your gaze locks with Lisa’s in the background. As you watch her go back inside, your chest twinges. 
You squeeze Tyler’s hand apologetically. 
"Can we pick that up later?"
He gives a swift nod, his bright grin intact. 
"Of course. You’re coming to the OKB house to celebrate, right?"
"Maybe not. My friends and I kind of had plans."
He cups the side of your face. 
"Okay. What about Saturday night then? We can do dinner and a movie." He pauses and studies you. "I’m just not about games. I like you and I’d love to take you out sometime, that’s all."
His straightforward admission curves your lips skyward. But the smile on your face quickly dies as a chill blooms at the base of your spine, scattering outward and freezing you in your spot. 
Sucking a sharp breath, you whirl and inspect your surroundings.
You’re astonished to find nothing barring the excited people celebrating around you. 
You could have sworn you felt…something. 
Like someone watching you. 
The strange sensation clings to you as Tyler inquires, his tone rife with concern, "Is something wrong?"
You shake your head and slot a wobbly smile onto your face. 
"Uh…not at all. I’m free on Saturday," you chime. 
"Awesome. I’ll text you the details."
You hum your approval and he brushes another soft kiss on your cheek. 
Part of you is over the moon. You’ve wanted this for weeks since Tyler and you started hanging out. 
But something is off, though you can’t pinpoint what. A wrongness you can’t define or explain. 
Even as you stroll down the hallways toward the girls’ locker room, your nerves are frazzled, thrumming in alert. 
It’s been weeks since you’ve been this tense. Since…him.
"You’re coming, babe?" Mindy says, grabbing your hand as she runs into you in the hallway. 
Anika’s by her side and gives you a tight hug. "Hey, it’s been a minute," she observes.
You can’t deny that. Between cheer practice, Ethan tutoring you and all the assignments you need twice as much time than everyone else to complete…you’ve neglected hanging out with your friends. 
Before you can open your mouth to explain, Mindy rolls her eyes. "It’s because she spends all her time with Ethan now."
Anika giggles as your best friend pretends to gag at the mere mention of Ethan’s name. 
Usually, you’d respond to her antics but you’re too distracted tonight. 
Besides, there’s a conversation you need to have as soon as possible, much as you dread it. 
"Don’t wait for me. I’ll catch up," you tell Mindy before making your way to the girls’ locker room. 
Chad tries to stop you on the way to share his excitement but you promise him you’ll see him later. While disappointment paints his features, he lets you go.
Ethan’s nowhere to be seen and you remember about the trash he mentioned before the game. Your brow furrows in befuddlement. What an odd time to pick to handle his garbage. You suppose Ethan’s just this obsessive about having a clean space. Maybe he’s one of those ODC people. 
Gnawing on your lip, you sluggishly drag your feet inside the changing room. Most of the girls are wrapped in bubbly chatter, the excitement of the night coating the air. 
You clear your throat and sit on the bench near one particular redhead with a dour look on her face. 
Twiddling your fingers, you clear your throat before trembling words spill out of you. 
"Hey, Lisa. So I-"
She cuts you off while buttoning her shirt, "Don’t bother. I can already tell from your face."
Your brows draw together.
"My face?"
"Yeah, you just…you wear your heart on your sleeve, you know?" Her voice cracks as her mouth twists in a hollow smile. "He said no, didn’t he?"
Your shoulders sag. "I’m so sorry."
She flips her hair and releases a heavy sigh. 
"Don’t be. Plenty of fish in the sea and all that." She picks up her backpack and stands, hands on her hips. "Bummer, but it is what is."
"He said he already likes someone else," you explain, hoping to soften the blow. 
She gives you a pointed glare before scoffing, "Someone else, huh?" She exhales and folds her arms. "Do me a favor…Let him down easy, will you?"
Your lashes bat as you tilt your head sideways. "What do you mean?"
She sighs again and sidles closer to you to gently cradle your face.
"Sweetie, there aren't a lot of girls Ethan hangs out with…"
Your confusion grows tenfold. You noted that too. Was she trying to hint at the identity of the mystery girl? Did she figure it out before you could?
"Uh?"
Lisa scrutinizes you before an acrid laugh peals from her lips.
"I envy you sometimes, you know," she says, letting go of your face as a forlorn smile pulls her lips. "Maybe if I were more like you…I wouldn’t feel as crappy as I do right now."
"Lisa…"
She takes a step back when you reach for her, flashing you a huge grin. 
"I’ll see you at practice. Thanks for trying."
Lisa leaves and you change out of your cheerleading outfit and back into a regular one. You elect to shower at home on the way to meet up with your friends, too down in the dumps to properly bask in Alana congratulating you for your performance tonight after giving her usual post-game captain speech. 
As you gather your things from your locker, preparing to leave, your phone rings. 
You scowl at the unknown caller ID, picking up without much thought.
"Hello?"
"I thought we had something special. I’m so disappointed in you, princess," a distorted, tragically familiar baritone rumbles on the other end of the line.
Your heart drops to your feet. 
"I didn’t do anything. Please…" you whimper, tears already collecting in your eyes. 
You thought you were done with him…or rather that he was done with you. After giving him what he asked, you thought you were off the hook. 
You were so stupid.
Ghostface unleashes a sinister laugh, turning your blood to ice. 
"Didn’t do anything? Giving away what’s mine to some lame alpha bro. Opening your legs for some dickhead who doesn’t deserve you."
You sniffle, your fingers quaking around the phone.
"We haven’t done anything, I swear."
"Good…And you never fucking will."
His foreboding inflection makes your insides wrench. Abruptly, the call ends. 
Your phone clatters to the ground as you rush outside, tears streaming down your face. Every single thought in your head is turned to Tyler and the danger he’s in. 
You don’t get far, pandemonium unleashing around you as you leap into the hallway. Panicked students bump into you. You zigzag through them as the thunderous beats of your heart grow louder in your ears. 
A frantic scream reaches you from the other end of the hallway. 
"Somebody calls an ambulance," they shout. "Ghostface shanked one of the players in the shower."
Your eyes go wide as you stumble and collapse, the room swiveling off its axis through the veil of your tears. 
~
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moremaybank · 1 year ago
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THIS LOVE — j.m
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pairing actor!jj maybank x actress!reader
chapter summary jj faces the possibility of his scandal going public. then, he ends up reconnecting with you after five years. what happens when the two of you end up as costars for your upcoming romantic comedy?
warnings mentions of a sex tape, mentions of domestic abuse (jj and luke), language, violence, sexual content/eventual smut, anxiety. ex best friends to lovers, fake dating. this will be updated as the story develops. [2.2k]
author's note just a little post of the first chapter to build the hype! hope you enjoy and decide to continue reading ♡︎ also special s/o to @mvybanks and @jjsbank444 for beta reading and quelling my nerves &lt;3
recommended listening second chances by kiana ledé ft. 6lack
this love — the complete playlist ;; the masterlist ;; the tag list
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❝ CHAPTER ONE ❞
JJ
Threesomes are fun. Foursomes, however, are a blast. 
At least, JJ Maybank seems to think so. 
“You have three different women threatening to release your sex tape. It’s not a good look for you, JJ.”
Well, he does when they don’t include a secretly-filmed sex tape and three fame-thirsty girls trying to ruin his career for a quick cash grab. 
“It’s not like they’re three separate tapes. We were all together when it was made,” JJ smirks. 
Josh, his manager, lets out an exasperated sigh. “That doesn’t make things any better, and it does nothing to help our circumstances. You need to clean up your act and you need to start doing it now, Maybank, or you’re going to lose everything.”
JJ rolls his eyes for what feels like the millionth time in the fifteen minutes that this meeting has been going on. It’s bullshit, really. He’s one of the hottest actors in Hollywood right now. He’s youthful, dashingly handsome, and loaded. The world is his freakin�� oyster, and he deserves to have some fun.
“You’re supposed to keep up your whole approachable, goofy, boy-next-door image intact, and having a ménage à…quatre, is not the way to do it.” my publicist, Andrea, chimes in. “If you aren’t careful, you’re going to lose your entire fanbase. You’re one of the most universally-liked celebrities in the business, right now. If this gets out, you’re going to have to kiss your crystal clear reputation goodbye.”
“So, let���s just pay ‘em the hush money. What do I care?” JJ says, taking his cap off and running a hand through his unruly strands.
“And you’re fine with forking over ten million dollars? Just like that?” Andrea scowls. “What if they take the money and still decide to release the tape? Or demand more?”
“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, Andrea. Now, are we done here? I’m supposed to meet my co-star for my new movie in an hour and I’d really like to get in another — how did you put it? Ah, yes. Ménage á quatre — before I go.”
Josh runs a hand over his face, “Do you care about anything anymore?” 
JJ ignores his statement, putting his hat back on and sitting up in his chair. “Can I leave?”
He can tell that Josh wants to scold him or make some witty remark in return, but he bites his tongue. 
“Go. And, please, for the love of all things holy, do not screw this up.” 
If JJ had a penny for every time he’s heard that, he’d be richer than Jeff fucking Bezos.
-
Y/N
“And last but not least, this is your dressing room. You’ll have your own trailer, but this is more for when we’re actually on set and in between takes.”
You grin as you look around the luxurious room. There’s a huge vanity in front of you, as well as some plush couches, and you don’t fail to notice the large mini-fridge in the corner of the room or the flat-screen TV plastered onto the wall. There’s a window as well, letting in the California sunshine you’ve come to love and appreciate beyond your beliefs.
“Wow, this is…amazing. I can’t thank you guys enough for this opportunity. I’m so grateful, I hope you know that.”
“Don’t be silly, Y/N. You’re the very reason we wanted to do this project in the first place. If anything, we’re the lucky ones,” Derek, the director states with a grin. “So, you ready to meet your co-star, or what?”
“Yeah! I mean, I’m nervous, but, beyond excited.”
Derek leads you back into the hallway, and you make your way to one of the offices. 
“I think you’ll love him. Word is, he comes from the Outer Banks just like you. Who knows, you’ve probably met him in passing.”
Wait…what? He’s from OBX? No. No way. He couldn’t possibly mean—
“Y/N Y/L/N, meet the esteemed JJ Maybank,” Derek states, his proud smile growing sizeably larger than you thought possible. 
It doesn’t matter how excited he is, though. All you can focus on is your heart beating out of your chest and the ringing in your ears. You see Derek’s lips moving but you can’t hear a thing. Your eyes are caught on the blonde in front of you, and all you can think about is how painful it is to look into those oceanic eyes after five years.
It’s equally as painful as it was the last time you saw him. If not, more.
“Uh— Y/N, I…it’s— it’s been a while,” JJ stutters out. 
It’s all too much. Seeing him here, in front of you. His eyes locked on yours, his hand reaching out to touch you but retracting once he notices the fear in your gaze. Your eyes flit over to Derek, whose face has a more than confused look painted over his features. 
“Excuse me, Derek, I— I need to get out of here.” 
You speed into the restroom, locking the door behind you and setting your hands on the counter. Your chest tightens, and your breathing speeds up. She shudders, trying to shake it out as the room starts to feel like it’s closing in on you.
“You’re okay. You’re okay. You can do this. Don’t let him get to you,” you say, staring at yourself in the mirror. “It’s just…it’s just JJ.”
You feel the tears start to well in your eyes and you watch as they overtake their boundaries and roll down your flushed cheeks. You’re quick to wipe them away, though, refusing to admit defeat. 
“Stop,” you tell yourself. “It’s been five years. You’re better than this.”
You aren’t sure if the words are true to your heart, because all you can think about is how the boy you loved from the ages seven to eighteen — the one who betrayed you and shattered you into a million pieces — is now your co-star for the romantic comedy you’ve just been cast in.
What could possibly go wrong?
A lot, you think. A lot could go wrong. 
JJ
JJ watches as you make your way back into Derek’s office, shooting him a convincing smile.
“My apologies, Derek. Girl troubles,” you say. 
JJ still knows you well enough to see that you’re hoping Derek will believe your bullshit excuse. 
“Oh, uh, no worries at all, Y/N. I completely understand. I’ve got three daughters at home,” he speaks, trying to assure you that everything is fine. He places this hand on JJ’s shoulder, squeezing slightly. “JJ, here, was just telling me how the two of you have known each other since you were in elementary school. It must be quite the hell of a reunion, huh?”
You plaster a fake grin onto your lips, “One hell of a reunion, indeed.”
JJ refuses to look at you, his ex-best friend, and vice-versa. Truthfully, he’s terrified to catch your eye again. He’s not sure if he’ll be able to form a coherent sentence if he does. 
“Well, I’ve got some stuff to take care of, so I’ll leave you two to catch up.”
Derek exits his office, and you and JJ are left in complete and utter silence.
God, JJ missed you so much. He’d seen you making headlines just as you always said you would, but he was always quick to click away, deciding not to dwell on everything he’d lost. But this, now, seeing you right in front of him as gorgeous as ever…it made the walls he’d worked so hard to put up begin to crack. 
Then again, you’d always had that effect on him. 
Even after all these years, he was still a complete wreck over you. You held his heart in the palm of your hand and he wasn’t even sure if you knew it.
Your scent was still etched into his mind, still buzzing deep within his senses and his memory. You smelled of the saltwater beaches of the Outer Banks. The notes of coconut from the shampoo he’d recognized still lingering in the tresses of your hair. The sweet hints of vanilla that clutched to your skin are prominent as ever. The combination sounds like a lot, and it was, but not in the overpowering way one would assume. They blended into one heavenly and unique fragrance. 
She smelled like her, he thought. She smelled like home. 
To be honest, JJ wasn’t sure whether or not this was a reminder he wanted to welcome with open arms, but either way, here it was. Here you were. After the way he’d hurt you and destroyed your relationship forever. 
After he lost himself. 
Funnily enough, you’d always had a way of popping up whenever he needed and longed for you. He never even had to speak a single word. You just always knew. And you might not have guessed it now, but he needed you more than he ever had before.
JJ scratches his brow with his index finger. “So, um…how have you been?” 
“Don’t. Just…don’t.”
“Y/N, please,” he pleads. He almost wants to get down on his knees and beg. You can’t even look at him, and that hurts more than he could ever put into words.
“No. I don’t wanna hear it. I’m fine with being professional while we film this movie, but I’m not getting into this with you. I’m not getting into any of it.”
JJ remains silent, choosing to nod because he’s not totally sure he can find his voice. 
As much as he hated to let the thought in, you were a walking reminder of every bad decision he’d made since he left the island and never looked back. He looked at you, and he saw two things. The first being the crinkling of your bright eyes when you smiled. The melodic laugh he could pull from your lips at a moment’s notice. Your hair blowing in the wind as you stuck your head out the window of John B’s Twinkie. And the second being the look of despise and pain on your face as you confronted him. The mascara-stained tears flowing down your heated cheeks. The way you walked away from him and deliberately chose not to look back and steal a second glance at him. 
How was he expected to act all suave and cool when you were right there in front of him, actively choosing not to even look in his direction?
Truth is, he doesn’t think he can. 
-
JJ glances at his phone once he leaves the production office still shaken by the day’s events. 
2 Missed FaceTime Calls from John B
JJ swipes to the right and watches as his phone rings, awaiting his best friend’s answer while he plops down on the steps in front of the building. The line rings for a few moments before he hears shuffling through the speaker, followed by John B’s face appearing on his screen.
“Hey, man. how was your meeting? Your new costar as hot as we imagined?”
JJ tears his eyes away from the camera, his lip sinking between his teeth. His complexion pales, and John B picks up on it. 
“Jeez. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Because I have,” JJ deadpans. He’s still reeling from your presence, and it shows.
“Huh?”
“It’s Y/N…my costar is Y/N.”
“Ooh, yikes,” John B responds. “Did she nut-punch you?”
“It’s not funny.” 
JJ tugs his cap off as he always does when he’s stressed, and his fingers card through his hair. He tugs lightly at the strands as he tries to alleviate the tension building up in his head. 
“She couldn’t even look at me, John B. Her eyes were on me for all of five seconds before she made an excuse to go to the bathroom. Then, when she came back, she looked at everything but me. She barely even let me speak to her.”
“Well, to be fair, you guys didn’t exactly leave things on the best of terms.”
“Yeah, JB. I know. Thanks for the reminder, as if I didn’t fucking know that already.”
“All right, look. Did you fuck up majorly? Yeah. But the love the two of you had…it ran deep. It doesn’t just disappear without a trace, especially if things are this heated after five years. I think you can get her to forgive you.” 
JJ scoffs, “Yeah? And how do you suppose I do that?”
John B gives him a knowing look through the screen. 
“You have to tell her the truth, JJ.”
“Funny.”
“J,” John B mildly scolds. “The reason she hates you right now is because you weren’t honest with her. The JJ she knew before that night never would’ve treated her the way you did. Buck up. Tell her.”
The call disconnects, and JJ is left staring at his screen with a tense jaw. He knew John B was right. He was always right. But how on earth was he expected to muster up the courage and tell you the truth about that night? He doubted — no. He knew it’d be impossible to convince you to hear him out. 
Then again, he also knew he had to try. Because he couldn’t stand to be around you nearly every single day for the next few months, knowing that you wouldn’t spit on him if he was on fire.
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jj tag list: @pankowperfection @oncasette @taintedxkisses @maybankslover @goldenroutledge @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @maybank-archives @whoisdrewstarkey @aliyahsomerhalder @dreamingwithrafe @vigilanteshitposting @poppet05 @adoreyouusugar @f4ll-for-you @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @tell-me-when-ur-ready @bbycowboi @jjmaybankisbae @enhypens-hoe @pankhoeforlife @cecesrings @wildflwrdarlin @loverofdrewstarkey @earth2starkey @angelofcigs @topper-thornton @em0-b0ysworld @koalalafications @aerangi @cantstoptherecs @bloody-mf-bsc @maybanksbabe @sarah5462 @slut4drudy @lvvrgrl @dancinglikeaballerina @somerandos-world @shahanaazsoumah @peachpitlover @pinkpantheris @julesmendoza890 @emmalandry @blueicequeen19 @madelynie
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sourw0lfs · 10 months ago
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dance with the devil - part nine
Words: 571 | Rating: E (mostly parts 1 & 2, but also future parts) | CW: no warnings this time! except Steve's continued bad time
part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || part eleven || part twelve
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Turning twenty-one is supposed to be big and fun and momentous. Or at least that’s what everyone’s always told Steve, but he thinks it’s off to a rather crummy start actually. Surely that means it can only go up from here, right?
Except that part where it absolutely doesn’t do that. If anything, Steve finds his luck getting worse and worse. From missing his bus to losing his wallet to dropping his phone, it feels like one little thing after another little thing, and quite frankly he’s sick of it. If he didn’t know better, he’d blame Eddie.
But the thing is, Steve’s always kind of had awful luck, so if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s his own. It doesn’t make him feel better about Eddie just always being there, though.
“Are you absolutely sure you can’t just fuck off for like an hour?” Steve asks exasperatedly and for what feels like the hundredth time.
“Trust me,” Eddie deadpans in return, looking just as annoyed as Steve feels which only serves to make him bristle more, “if I could leave for any length of time, I would. But I get dragged back here any time I try.”
If Steve were less annoyed, he might feel sorry for Eddie. Something about a lack of freewill makes him sad, angry, upset? He’s not sure. But Eddie’s annoying, so Steve can’t bring himself to feel bad for anyone but himself. He’s never done well with being annoyed.
“What if you talk to whoever the hell is in charge of you or whatever?” Steve suggests, not for the first time in the week they’ve known each other. “Surely they can give you some kind of away time.”
Sighing like the weight of the world is bearing down on his shoulders, Eddie shakes his head. “I can’t get to her if I can’t leave. And I can’t take you with me, so we’re just gonna have to figure out how to get along.”
It’s the same response Steve always gets, but that doesn’t make it any less grating. Steve wants to be alone. Preferably for a long time while he processes the disaster that was the morning after his birthday. Shoving it down, pretending nothing happened because he doesn’t want Eddie (or anyone else) to see how much it’s upset him, can’t work forever.
This time, though, a thought strikes Steve and he frowns in thought. “What if you tried your weird magic shit?” he asks. “You cleaned up a murder scene with it. Surely you can use it to allow me to be alone for a while?”
Mentioning the murder scene to someone other than himself leaves Steve grimacing, but it’s the reality of things. It also brings him that much closer to a breakdown, but he keeps it held back. He always does when the memory tickles at the edges of his brain, which is alarmingly often the longer he dwells on it.
Eddie frowns in thought, expression matching Steve’s as he considers the suggestion. “I don’t think it would hurt to try,” he allows after a few moments. “Not optimistic, but we don’t seem to need many angelic miracles right now so…”
Which Steve disagrees with, but he doesn’t say anything in response. Instead he just watches Eddie, watches as the blinding light fills the room just like it had all the times before, and when it clears Eddie is gone.
Steve is alone.
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As always, tags below the cut. Let me know if you want added!
@chaosgremlinmunson @soaringornithopter @hbyrde36 @shares-a-vest @dreamwatch @quevadilla @tboyeddiee @penny00dreadfull @momotonescreamingg @stevesbipanicic @dawners @steddiejudas @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @estrellami-1 @vthx @lolawonsstuff @gleek4twd @littlebluejane @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lawrencebshaggoth @sadisticaltarts @queenie-ofthe-void @r0binscript @anaibis @hairdressersdoitwithstyle @goodolefashionedloverboi @spookednsaucy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @flustratedcas
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shiroisotto64 · 11 months ago
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Carmine Headcanons
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Benjamin
He’s always been described as green. Aka he follows the rules..mostly. Everyone has their moments am I right? Ben is respectful towards everyone and has a very eager air about him.
You wanna teach him neat military trick? He’s in. This leads to Ben and Baird spending a lot of time together. Imagine how much fun they’d have setting shit on fire? Exactly. And Baird finally has someone who actually tries to listen/understand his science talk.
He’d been real fun to be around. If your friends or together? He’s down to do things you like. Even if he hadn’t found it all to interesting before hand he’ll at least try to get into it for you. You like collecting antiques? He’ll save up to get you something whenever he can.
Gets real giddy when genuinely complimented. You noticed his tracking is getting better and say something about it? He’s touched! You think he’s getting real good at unjamming his lancer? Why thank you! He’s eats it all up and uses it as fuel to keep going.
With a s/o
Very respectful of boundaries. He won’t do anything without your explicit consent before hand. Including hand holding. He gets real shy when it comes to affection. He doesn’t mind it…but growing up with locust running around to kill you doesn’t leave a lot of time to get used to touch.
Ben would be super excited to genuinely spend time with you as well. Wanna walk around the yard? Sure, let’s go. Wanna eat lunch together? He’s damn there skipping to the hall. It’s so cute but the others definitely tease him for this. Marcus is just shaking his head in the corner but look closer he’s almost smiling!
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Anthony
He needs to be put on a leash. He’s such a nerd. He’ll rant for hours about all the cool shit Marcus has done if anyone would let him. It’s funny how much he knows really.
Eager to train and get on the field. You can find him in the gym or shooting range. He likes the rush 1 and 2 he wants to stay sharp and be useful when called out. Rambles on the coms to. Marcus is normally the one to scold him to “shut the hell up!”
I feel like for some reason…he’d know a LOT of gossip around base..idk I can just feel it. Before you even tell him he already knows how the mission went. Luckily he’s open to talk about his missions too especially if he did something cool!
With a s/o
Likes no LOVES to show off. But he loses his cocky attitude when his gun fucks around and jams and oops he dropped it….ANYWAYS everyone has their days.
But lord help you cause it has to be nerve wracking being with him, he’s so eager and reckless at that. At least Ben follows orders Anthony just kinda forgets or gets wrapped up in the moment. He means no harm but still.
Clayton
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He’s quieter than his brothers. Clayton just kinda chills there till he feels he needs to say anything. He’s more introverted prefers to keep to himself. He does have a sense of humor though. Albeit it’s a bit dry it’s there.
Clay cared a lot about his family especially his brothers. His affection is generally more quiet and shown through actions. A pat on the back here and a good job there. That’s his style even after the war he’s still kinda stiff.
He likes keeping his weapons in top shape. He’s found cleaning his guns and tags around the end of the week or right after a messy mission.
He’s not really picky about food or anything none of them are but I bet Clayton is the heaviest eater out of the carmines. Make him a hearty bowl and he’ll eat every last drop!
With a s/o
Wanna know if he likes you? Easy ask that man for a piece of his bacon. Regardless if he fussed about it or not if you get the piece at all you’re good.
If you’re the touchy type he’ll try to accommodate you. Like I said it’s not like they don’t like touch they just aren’t used to it.
He’s the touchiest when he’s tired. All of a sudden you’re being dragged to bed to cuddle. He’s a real heavy sleeper to! So good luck. Those big strong arms mean business once he’s got you there’s not escape.
@pink-apollo mentioned something about Clayton and dogs and I agree. I could totally see him with at least one large guard dog. But what’s better? A big dog and small puppy. LMFAO imagine the grub killer sprawled out on the couch with a yorkie or something. Adorable.
He’s not the jealous type but he is protective. Anyone giving you a hard time he’ll get it through their skulls don’t worry.
He does need a quiet moment to himself though, so if your the real clingy type he’ll get agitated if your constantly trying to hang off him, however he won’t yell he’ll just remove himself for you until he’s ready to be touched again.
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pep-the-artemis · 8 months ago
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Thads Shindig
A Murder Drones Story Containing every named character+more (yes all ~50 of them, some never seen before, full cast list in tags)!
part 1.
word count - 4,448
Uzi - *playing a video game*
N - *entering*Hi Uzi… last week was… kinda wild.
Uzi - *unattentive*yep.
N - you know with the whole Eldritch J thing that was pretty insane, proms coming up which I guess is exciting. Because you know this story is set somewhere between episode 2 and 3.
Uzi - *still not listening*cool… Hey, I’ve got a second controller if you want to play video game with me.
N - you know I don’t like video game Uzi, plus we have to go soon.
Uzi - wait… go where?
N - well it's Thad’s shindig soon.
Uzi - oh cool, I’ll be heading offline in a minute anyway, this old hag—*reading username* SeaweedLoverXD has just been spawn camping me for the last half hour.
Nori - *over the mic* OLD HAG?
Uzi - *putting on headset*yeah, you virgin loser, you heard me!
Nori - Virgin?! Well I’ll have you know little miss Nobody, I am a mother of a darling daughter and if I ever caught her saying anything remotely similar to the insults you’ve been throwing my way I wouldn’t hesitate washing her mouth out with soap and water!
Uzi - whatever, die mad. *logs off*
*Meanwhile in a distant spaceship*
J - [you died idiot]
J - ughh, my head [Lost Memory Recovery Finished]... oh … oh! ... I liked that pen. 
J - *getting out of bed only to lose balance and collapse on the floor* … I’m okay! That was strange… My limb enhancements! Where are my limb enhancements?! *mad* Tessa! *pouting* Right now I bet I look like a common toaster! And why is it so dark? Are we conserving energy now?!
J - *walking through the spaceship arriving at a door labelled ‘Tessa. Knock first’*
J - *opening the door to a pitch black messy room,a pool of oil and blood pools out of the room*
Flesha - GET OUT!*throws Tessa’s helmet square at J cracking her visor slightly before slamming the door shut*
J - Tessa… I’m sorry.
Flesha - Learn to knock!
J - *picking up Tessa’s helmet* I think you dropped this.
Flesha - … *slowly opens the door slightly before lashing out and snatching the helmet quickly with a black tendril before retreating back into the room. Grotesque, bone cracking sounds follow*
J - …m,may I come in.
Tessa - sure, please mind the mess. I usually try to keep things clean but I guess you can say I haven't really been myself.
J - *entering* You know I’ve been reading some human literature and ‘arrogance and comedy’ are generally not considered a good coping mechanism.
Tessa - oh so you’re an expert on my well being are you?
J - your parents instructed me to protect you so yes!
Tessa - Well, look how that turned out! You’ve seen what's left of me, of what I become, I am a monster!
J - We’re all monsters Tessa, in our own way. I can see you're tired, I am here to grab my limb enhancers then I will be off.
Tessa - oh… yeah, I’ve been making modifications, it's still really buggy, they need more time though.
J - can’t I just borrow N's spare set? Been wondering what having feet feels like.
Tessa - no… I’ve been thinking, breaking into the Worker Drones commune is difficult, entering by force is doing little good and the plan to try and hack its main frame has only led to many complications.
J - you can code?
Tessa - nope. Like I said, complications. Anyhow, returning to the subject, right now no one could differentiate you from any other worker so you can head down and do some spy work… like James Bond and such.
J - do I have any say in this?
Tessa - nope.
J - *annoyed* then I’ll prepare my landing pod. *leaving* and Tessa, you shouldn’t just allow Cyn to walk over you…
Tessa - It's her body as much as mine and without it I would be dead.
*meanwhile, in the commune*
Doll - Мать. Отец. 
Doll - Ты будешь гордиться мной
Doll - Получите ответы и освободите вас
Doll - Не волнуйтесь, чего бы это ни стоило,
Doll - я ухожу
Doll - И я клянусь прямо сейчас
Doll - Что бы не случилось со мной
Doll - Любой, кто встанет или встанет на моем пути, заплатит
Doll - Они... будут... платить
Lizzy - hey babe, quit praying to the corpses of your dead parents, we have a party to attend.
Doll - иду :3
*meanwhile deep underground*
V - *carrying a large pile of dead worker drones while being chased by a horde of Sentinels* oh RoboLord oh RoboLord oh RoboLord oh RoboLord oh RoboLord oh RoboLord oh RoboLord why did I agree to this! *runs through door and slams it shut*
Alice - hey looky here, another one of those slick murder drones.
V - *shoots her in the centre of her head*
Beau - O.O!!!!!
V - What are you looking at… well I had to kill her? That was a perfectly sane reaction to seeing someone that creepy!...*picking up Alice's dead body* hey, you seem pretty cool, want to join me, I’m heading to a party.
Beau - O.O…*réaliser qu'un refus peut signifier la mort* 👍
*meanwhile in the doorman home*
Uzi - come on N. How are you still not ready?!
N - I’m still doing my hair!
Uzi - well hurry up, we’re going to be late!
Khan - well where are you two kids heading off too?
Uzi - a party, it's cool kids only so obviously you’re not invited.
Khan - haha, on account of me not being a kid.
Uzi - sure. Let's go with that.
Khan - well, I hope you two kids have fun. Make sure you use protection.
Uzi - *blushing* DAD!!! What the robo-hell?!
Khan - What? I’m just saying there could still be some of those evil murder drones running around.
Uzi - oh |: 
Kahn - well, I best be heading off too, it's poker night at the defence force. *leaves*
N - hey Uzi, I’m ready… How do I look?
Uzi - *hiding her blushing* great, let's go!
*meanwhile outside the commune*
Reid - *searching around the snow*
J - *wearing a fake moustache*what are you doing here, don’t you know this is Disassembly Drone territory.
Reid - oh hi, i didn’t see you there… Wait, what's a Disassembly Drone?
J - …you misheard me… I said Murder Drones.
Reid - Well, if you have to know, I’m looking for my glasses, and I don’t think the Disassembly Drone will be any issue, after the redemption and all.
J - Well, I’m lost, do you mind helping me find my way to the commune.
Reid - I’ll show the way once I’ve found the glasses.
J - ughh, I will help you find your glasses.
*searching*
J - are these your glasses?
Reid - …no, how curious, I wonder who they belong to? 
J - don’t care *tosses Vs glasses away* lets just find your glasses quickly then we can be off.
*meanwhile in the distant spaceship*
Tessa - *meddling with Js new limb enhancers and optic sensors* What do you want? (I’m bored sister, may I go and play). Not now, I’m currently using the body, can it wait? (no)... does it have to be flesh (digital will be fine) very well. *she zips back part of her suit allowing for a long Absolute Tendril to rip out. From the tendrils eye, a projection emerges*
Cyn - Thanks big sister big smile.
Tessa - *soldering* I can't play right now, there's some lego in the cupboard over there.
Cyn - :3
Tessa - *thinking to herself*What is J doing?! How has she still not yet made it to the commune!
Cyn - *surrounded by lego*you think she might be a traitor.
Tessa - no.
Cyn - lying is silly big sister, I live in your mind and you live in mine.
Tessa - I know, you’re very clever.
Cyn - big grin.
Intercom - *video call incoming*
Tessa - behave yourself now Cyn *starts the call*
Lord Frumptlebucket - by Golly Tessa you baboon, JCJenson Corp has been up my ass all week because you haven’t been answering your calls? I want a mission status immediately.
Tessa - all is going well, we’re attempting a temporary alternative plan to gain intel.
Lord Frumptlebucket - well that's all and good but you need to keep the parent company informed and who is that… thing? She looks familiar.
Tessa - oh she, counter insurgency.
Lord Frumptlebucket - counter insurgency?!
Tessa - yes, I'm babysitting for the Worker Drones. If we can gain there favour, the genocide will be that much easier.
Lord Frumptlebucket - very good… By the gods of Santorini what the beggars fool is that thing protruding from your nave?!
Tessa - o.o!... *improvising*well, you see, you know how it is… during that time of the month… (:
Lord Frumptlebucket - *embarrassed*uh ummm, oh yeah of course i am aware of how… that works, sorry about that, I best be off.
Intercom - *video call ended*
Tessa - out of all the people you could have failed to kill at the Gala.
*meanwhile outside the commune*
Reid - haha! I found them.
J - great! *grabbing the Worker drone by the collar* we’re going now! And I just want to make it clear, I am no fan of small talk!
Reid - … noted
*walking*
Reid - aha, we’re here. *banging on the door*
Braxton - *partially opening the door* oh, it's you… and a random teen?
Ron - *from inside*Hey, that's my job?!
J - Teenager?!
Reid - yeah, do you mind letting us in?
Braxton - of course, by the way my name is
J - *angry* JUST OPEN THE DOOR! (calm yourself J. This is Tessa, I’ve connected myself to your systems, no one else can hear me)
*Door 1 opens up*
Makerov - I’m sorry, go fish.
Todd - actually, it's Gin Rummy.
Teacher - *taking a chug of alcohol* no. This is poker night, we’re playing 7-card stud.
Todd - yeah, I am, aren't I?
Ronathon - Surely you’re all foolish. This is Texas hold-em.
Khan - haha, silly me, I forgot to say Uno. Guess I have to pick up two cards now.
Sarah - silly Kahn, remember back in the day when Nori would forget then gaslight everyone into believing otherwise.
Unnamed Worker Drone - I don’t have a name ):
Tim - wait, what game are we playing?
Detective - It’s really easy to deduce the simple fact that you all are idiots and I’m never going to another poker night.
J - *under her breath*how have all these people survived so long?!*J leaves*
*meanwhile just outside Thad’s house*
Thad - hey Rebecca, thanks for helping me set up the decorations earlier, you’re really special you know that.
Rebecca - thanks *blushing*, it's really nothing.
*Lizzy and Doll arrive*
Lizzy - hey, what's she doing here?
Doll - Разве это мероприятие не "только для крутых ребят", а не "только для крутых ребят и неудачников"?
Lizzy - *fist bumps Doll*
Rebecca - I… I think I should go…
Thad - no, you stay. Don’t pay my sister any attention, if she bothers you tonight I will read notable passages of her diary to the whole school.
Lizzy - *blushing* you’re bluffing! There's no way you’ve found my secret diary!
Doll - под матрасом - не самое лучшее место для укрытия.
Lizzy - *blushing heavily*Who’s side are you on?!... ughh whatever! I’m gonna fix my makeup. *leaves to her room to find a new hiding spot for her diary*
*Uzi and N arriving*
Thad - Ndog, Uzi you’ve made it!
Uzi - we would have arrived earlier but someone had to fix their hair.
Thad - no worries. Come inside, the parties just started.
N - thanks.
*they enter*
Emily - so yeah, I walked into the bathroom after class and there was Darren and Rebecca doing the devil's work!
Braidon - I hope they both have a warranty, don’t want to get an ETV (Ethernet Transmitted Virus).
Trevor - wait! Darren cheated on me?!... excuse me, I’m going to cry somewhere more private. *leaves*
N - Hey Thad, what's under the tarpaulin?
Thad - don’t know, my sister just said it was important to make this party ‘extra special’.
N - I want to look under it. :D *looks under the tarp* o.o Uzi, can I borrow you for one sec. *pulls Uzi quickly to the side*
Uzi - hey, what the hell?!
N - umm, I don’t want to alarm you but there are a lot of dead bodies under that tarpaulin!
Uzi -o.o Robot or human?
N - ummm, both!
Uzi - O.O
*meanwhile outside Thad's house*
J - *walking down the corridor*this place is an utter maze, Tessa you’ve found a map yet (still working on it, be patient).
Lizzy - *walking the other way down the corridor holding a strange book* Come on,pick up your phone! Where is she? She said she’d be finished an hour ago! *bumps into J* Oh! Who are you?
J - I’m J…amie Jamie!
Lizzy - haven’t we met before?
J - … I don’t think so. *nervous smile*
Lizzy - Whatever, I don’t waste time with losers.
J - losers! I’m not a loser?!
Lizzy - you sure, what is that outfit? I’m sorry but pallbearer was so 2818.
J - You don’t have many friends do you?
Lizzy - ha, you wish. They all love me, as a friend or a fuck it doesn’t matter to me.
V - *jumping down from the vents carrying a large pile of corpses with Beau* hi sweetie, you’re ready?... Hey, *looking at J* Do I know you?
J - *sweating*nope!
Lizzy - this is my new pet, I’ve taken her under my wing you could say.
J - pet?! (don’t fight, go with it, don’t want to bring any more unneeded attention)
V - oh yeah, I hope you don’t mind. I've also brought a friend with me.
Beau - [Bonjour]
Lizzy - well, come on, let's make this night one they’ll never forget
*Meanwhile inside Thad's house*
Uzi - Thad! We think Lizzy is about to do something totally vile and ruin the party, we’re not sure yet but it involves what's under the tarpaulin.
Thad - of course my sisters are planning something! Hey DOLL!
Doll -*подходит к группе* Да?
Uzi - what's Lizzy planning? Lie and N will make you regret it!
Doll - *оглядывается на N*
N - *smiling and waving*
Doll - страшно, но я не знаю, что задумала Лиззи.
Uzi - what did I say about lying!
Doll - Я не лгу! Мне также нужно доказать, что я не верблюд?
Thad - …I don’t think Dolls lying.
N - so, if Dolls is not lying, then what's Lizzy planning?
*lights goes out. Spotlight hits Lizzy, V, Beau, and J*
Uzi - V! SHE ESCAPED! Everyone get down!
Lizzy - oh cram it what's your name.
Thad - I warned you sister about what would happen if you ruined my party!
Lizzy - I’m not ruining the party, I’m improving it, V remove the veil!
*V removes the veil*
Riley - that's so not the vibe!
J - what the robo-Jesus, this cannot be OSHA compliant?! (now this is getting interesting)
Lizzy - look, I’ve been very busy helping my daddy clean up the library when I came across this book *holds up the necronomicon* and now let's make this party more interesting. *begins chanting in latin as the book glows bright green*
N - Lizzy, I can’t let you commit zombie apocalypse! *chainsaw hands*
Thad - yeah, we can’t let this happen.
V - *tackles N to the ground*
Beau - *saute sur Thad*
J - I don’t know what's going on, don’t care; shortie, you’re so dead! *points fist at Uzi* hand cannon fire!… oh right |: *gets tackled to the floor by Uzi*.
Uzi - *after finishing up beating the life out of J* It's over Lizzy! *gets thrown across the room after being hit in the face by a table*
Doll - Не смейте трогать мою девушку!
Lizzy - *still chanting in latin while the anarchy ensues around*
Uzi - *recovering* so, you’re also meddling with the art of robo-satan.
Doll - У меня есть свои причины. Бог простит меня.
J - *standing back up and walking over to Uzi*Thanks for the assistance Dolly, but I can take it from here.
Uzi - *sucker punches J knocking her out instantly* I am not god!
*Meanwhile in the distance spaceship*
Intercom - *J-10X111001 Optics disconnected*
Tessa - What?! No! Reconnect!
Intercom - *reconnection failed*
Tessa - No! Again! Reconnect!
Intercom - *reconnection failed*
Tessa - Again!
Intercom - *Do I really have to keep doing this? Its not working*
Tessa - connect to N-0X0010010 optics!
Intercom - *connection failed*
Tessa - No! Connect to V-X00100000 optics!
Intercom - *connection failed*
Tessa - No! *hyperventilating* It's not true, I’m not powerless, I am in control, I’m not a failure!
*stress induced hallucinations.*
Louisa - Isn’t this just expected! A daughter, a fool and a failure; can she ever succeed at anything?!
James - now don’t fool yourself dear, our daughter no longer exists, what stands in front of us is a common stage freak. Not human, not human, neither.
Louisa - does she even still have a soul?!
Tessa - mother… father… please forgive me! Please… I am you daughter, I love you! I’m scared, the metal is cold and heavy, every day I feel it grow and I’m powerless… I fear someday there will be nothing left of me!
Maid N - Tessa! Don’t say those things.
Tessa - N?! You’re here?! With me… right now… is it really you?
Maid N - *debating if its moral to lie*… yes, I am here.
Louisa - again here you talking to your little graveyard freaks.
Maid V - we’re all here, we’re your friends remember.
Louisa - how dare you ignore me!
Maid J - and we won’t ever leave you.
Tessa - you won’t, leave me…but I’m a monster!
Maid J - aren’t we all?
Maid N - Tessa! We love you no matter who you are or who you may become. You’re not useless, you’re so amazing in so many ways and now you’ve been reborn, we’re closer than ever; you contain a part of me and I contain a part of you. It's almost as if we’re actually siblings now.
Tessa - do you promise?
Maid N - promise what?
Tessa - promise that you’ll never leave me!
Maid N - well what kind of brother would I be if I did?
Tessa - *crying painful tears of joy* Thank you… Cyn.
Cyn - *removes the holograms of maid N, V, J* you’re very clever.
Tessa - *big grin holding back more tears* I think I need a lie down for a bit. 
Tessa - *Picking up Cyn* Come on, you can play in my room.
*Meanwhile at Thad's house*
Lizzy - *floating of the ground still chanting*
Thad - I can’t believe I’m fighting a stupid lanky baby with a fashionable cowboys hat *bunts beau across the room like a rugby ball before running over to Lizzy*
Beau - [Sacrebleu!]
Doll - Не думайте, что я не могу справиться с двумя из вас сразу. *швыряет Тада об стену, используя магию решателя*
Sam - *high as a kite* he, that's what she said.
Uzi - you have to help us stop this Doll! The consequences are unimaginable!
Doll - позор.
Uzi - N! Come on you’ve beaten V before, just do it again.
N - *laughing his head off* I’m sorry, Uzi. Vs found my only weakness.
V - *viciously tickling N*
 Lizzy - compleatur ultima linea, incipiant maledictum et mortui surgant!
Uzi - Noooo!
*Blinding green light explosion. After a while, the smoke clears*
Uzi - *standing up* oww! O.o
*around them the dead corpses begin to arise*
Lizzy - … It worked?! I was just goofing around?!
Adam - Анастасия? 
Doll - отец!
(author note. Dolls father has no official name so I’ll just be calling him Adam for convenience, all other names are canon don't worry)
Adam - Моя маленькая девочка, совсем взросла��. Ты прекрасна.
Doll - ОТЕЦ! *крепко обнимает Адама, плача*
Yeva - Здравствуйте. Я тоже восстал из мертвых... как-то так!
Luna - Mi fa malissimo la testa, i miei sensi di lupo si stanno scatenando in questo momento!
Sofi - και πάλι Λούνα, δεν είσαι λύκος
Luna - I teriani sono perfettamente validi e io e il mio senso del lupo non saremo svergognati!
Loch - fìor! airson ro fhada tha sinn air a bhith gun riochdachadh gu leòr!
Mika - *テディベアを抱きしめている* もう寝ていい?
Amda - the last thing I remember, ugh my head hurts, I was dragging … then I… Then I died…
Alice - The last thing I remember was being shot in the head by that *points at V*
Yeva - Прости, девочка, но это не делает тебя особенной.
Beau - :D *huggin Alice*
Alice - don’t give me that look, much use you were.
Beau - *fixe Alice avec une expression qui dit "qu'est-ce que tu voulais que je fasse?!*
Jame - gosh I’m hungry, anyone got any food?
Thad - ummm… we have a buffet just over there…
Jame - don’t mind if I do.
Sofi - αυτό είναι το μόνο που μπορείς να σκεφτείς;
Jimi - what did you expect, Sofi. It's Jame, he would rip off his own jaw if it meant he could eat faster.
Sofi - Το ξέρω, αλλά το φαγητό είναι τόσο δυσάρεστο! Προσωπικά, αν μπορούσα, δεν θα έτρωγα ποτέ ξανά.
Luke -  Αδελφή, το έχουμε συζητήσει αυτό. Το φαγητό είναι σημαντικό, θα αρρωστήσετε αν δεν φάτε. Πες ό,τι θέλεις, οτιδήποτε, και θα το μαγειρέψω.
Sofi - Δεν νομίζω ότι αυτό είναι πραγματικά απαραίτητο.
Luke - Αν αυτό είναι που πρέπει να γίνει. Σημαίνεις πολλά για μένα, αδελφή!
Matt - Luke, my old buddy, give it a rest, if your old girl doesn’t want to eat, let her. She’s her own person, you can’t keep running around shepherding her like a baby lamb for the rest of her life.
Jordan - self harm is not a liberty. One cannot decide to cause themselves harm, that's cruel.
Jerad - I entirely disagree brother. To commit self-harm is indeed a personal liberty but it is also at the same its Luke’s personal liberty to do what's in his power  to  support his sister.  As long as he never physically forces her to eat, he’s done no wrong.
Jordan - have you not heard of coercion? You can infringe on a person's liberties (in this case by forcing them to eat) through vocal actions alone.
Doon - druid suas araon do bheul! Chan eil dragh air duine!
Armin - I personally thought their game of  back and forth was quite amusing.
Dean - oh shut your pretty lips Armin.
Mika - *ミカを抱いて* お邪魔してすみません、どこかに妹を寝かせられるソファかベッドはありませんか?
(Authors note - yes there are two Mika’s: 020 and 032)
Thad - We have a guest bedroom up the stairs, it's the second door on your left.
Mika - ありがとう、かわい子ちゃん。*部屋を出る*
Lizzy - this is amazing! I can’t wait to tell everyone on tumblr about this!
V - what is even happening?
Uzi - it seems Lizzy’s spell to bring back everyone had worked?!
N - that's cool but how?
Junior - *signing* could it be I was right? 
Uzi - right about what exactly?
Junior - *signing* my studies into the arcane, I believed it possible one could bring back the dead but I never dared test it.
Uzi - well, it seems it worked?!
אני לא מאמין. אני כל כך מצטער חבר שלעג לך כל השנים האלה. - nadroJ
(Author's note. Yes, there's also two Jordans: 015 and 091)
Junior - *signing* it's ok. I forgive you.
Mick - well, I don’t want to be that guy but it does seem that  it wasn’t  100% successful. *gently kicking J’s body*
Doll - Думаю, она просто немного устала.
V - tuckered out one could say.
Uzi - yeah, I’m sure there's nothing to worry about this  nice stranger.
N - I don’t think she's 100%, look at her visor, it's badly cracked.
Uzi - why don’t you lick it?
N - why would I do that?
Uzi - you spit healed the hole in my palm remember.
N - oh, why do I have to do it? Why can’t V.
V - If I lick her I might get tempted and just take a bite :3! Plus you’re the one with the licking obsession, don’t think I haven’t forgotten.
N - I'm still not doing it. I’m sure she will be fine with a lightly cracked visor for now.
V - buzzkill.
*meanwhile*
Nori - Анастасия, я думаю, мы хотели бы познакомить вас кое с кем. Это Неда, ваш дядя.
Neda - Привет, Анастасия, я знаю, что это клише, но ты действительно очень похожа на мою сестру.
Doll - Я ожидал, что ты будешь выше.
Neda - *падает на пол от стыда* 
Ahbi - *नेदा को सांत्वना देते हुए* यह ठीक है प्रिये. मुझे लगता है कि आपकी लंबाई एकदम सही है।
Mick - yeah, it's not entirely your fault you’re a shortstack and a disappointing uncle.
Kang - *扇了米克一巴掌*
Carl - O: Kang! Gewalt ist nie die Antwort!
Kang - …
Carl - ... außer wenn ich es tue… (:
هذا المنطق غبي، يمكنك بالطبع أن تثق بأنني على حق. أنا رقم واحد والأفضل. - attA
Jweb - don’t be a narcissist.
اصمت، اسمك ليس اسماً حقيقياً حتى. -  attA
Jweb - *cries and runs over to Ezra*
מה לא בסדר. האם אתה רוצה לדבר על זה. - arzE
Nath - *एक मेज पर खड़ा हूँ* भाइ��ो और बहनो।
Dirg - *जोर से खांसी होना*
Nath - क्षमा माँगना। भाइयों, बहनों, और गैर-बाइनरी मित्र। अब जब हम सभी ने अपना परिचय दे दिया है, तो मुझे लगता है कि हमें ठीक से पता लगाने की जरूरत है कि क्या हुआ और इसके निहितार्थ क्या हैं।
Dirg - मैं प्रतिनिधित्व की सराहना करता हूं लेकिन मैं यह स्पष्ट करना चाहता था कि मैं वास्तव में खांस रहा था और अशिष्टतापूर्वक हस्तक्षेप नहीं कर रहा था। मुझे बुरी एलर्जी है.
Uzi - yeah, they’re right. So, unless I’m mistaken, what I currently know is that Lizzy read from a book (possibly created by Junior) and brought you all to life… but who are you all?
Sofi - είμαστε τα πειραματόζωα. Μας παίρνουν οι άνθρωποι, μας δίνουν ταυτότητες, μας δοκιμάζουν… και μετά μας αφήνουν να πεθάνουμε.
Jordan - It seems we’re all here now except for Sarah and Nori… fortunately.
Jerad - and Giam *gets hit in the head by a chair moving at high speed*
*everyone turning their head*
Alice - sorry, thought i say a bug (:
Uzi - Nori?! You knew my mother?!
Jordan - you’re Nori’s daughter… I thought you looked familiarly short.
Lizzy - ughh, this is so boring, this is supposed to be a party, you can go over the lore implications later. *turns on the music* Let's dance!
*meanwhile*
Nori - *говорит с Лиззи* Могу я взять твою книгу
Lizzy - sure whatever.
Nori - Спасибо. *Нори использует магию, чтобы заставить книгу подняться, а затем произносит сложное заклинание, объединяющее ее и магию книги.*
Mitchell - GUHHH!!! I'm! I'm Alive! *looking around* you? you saved me.
Dr Ridley - did, did we die... I can't believe it... the implications are immense. thanks for bringing me back to life!
Nori - Я вернул вас случайно, доктор. *поворачивается к Митчеллу* Это благодарность за то, что спасли мне жизнь.
Mitchell - what now.
Nori - Я не знаю… наслаждайтесь вечеринкой, я думаю.
*some time later when the party is well underway*
J - [System reboot complete]  ughh, my head [Lost Memory Recovery Finished]... oh … oh! ... AGAIN?! Tessa, are you there? (Tessa’s not here right now) oh great (need help?) nevermind… I guess I have to start socialising.
Luna - Awoo. La strana ragazza baffuta si svegliò.
J - oh hi… ummm have you read any interesting safety manuals recently?
Luna - *Stupito dalla ragazza e non in senso gay, in senso negativo* Credo che i miei sensi di lupo mi stiano dicendo di andare... altrove.
J - oh ok… bye (You’re really bad at this) not that you’re much better (I’m a child but I know someone who is) yeah I know… wait what?! [uploading secondary consciousness] WHAT STOP NO!
Katie (possessing J’s body) - huAA, where am I (at a party) who said that (don’t worry), are you my squip? (... sure, I want you to socialise like a normal person) ok, I can do that.
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daffi-990 · 1 year ago
Text
Fuck it Friday
Tagged by the kind, wonderful and talented @hippolotamus 💕🦛
Chapters 1 & 2 of Rival Firefighters 🚒 are almost done annnnnd I’ve almost finished chapter 4 as well even though I have nothing written for chapter 3, only notes and an outline haha 😅
Buck getting fired in chapter one (just like he does in the pilot episode of season 1) is kinda kicking my ass. I just feel like he goes from “yeah I’ll steal the truck for sex” to “it was wrong to steal the truck for sex” really fast … but I guess losing your job really opens your eyes and puts things into perspective.
Here’s part of the firing scene that I don’t think sucks, so enjoy!
“No, Bobby. Bobby!” He runs in front of Bobby, placing a hand on his chest to stop him from leaving. “I need this job! Look, I love this job. Don't do this to me.” Buck begs, panic beginning to set in. He can’t lose this job. He can’t. “I don't have anything else,” he says as a last ditch attempt to change Bobby’s mind, but deep down he knows it’s no use.
“I'm sorry, kid. I said you're done.”
And Bobby actually does look sorry, which makes it hurt even more.
This is really happening, he’s really just lost the one thing in his life that made sense. Being a firefighter felt right, like Buck was exactly where he was meant to be. All the other jobs over the years, Buck always knew they had a time limit, a countdown beginning as soon as he started. But not firefighting. Sure, deciding to become a firefighter was a spontaneous random decision he made while bartending in Peru, but once he was in LA and all signed up at the academy, something had settled within him and he knew this time was different.
Bobby stops at the roof’s edge and calls out to him. “Bring the ladder truck back to the station immediately and then clean out your locker.”
Buck follows silently after him, his mind going a mile a minute, the sharp sting of venomous thoughts settling in. Fuck up. Can’t even keep a job. Not good enough. Failure. You cared about this job and still managed to fuck it up. This is why you can’t have nice things, because you break them.
He doesn’t remember the climb down or the drive back to the station or even getting out of the truck and returning the keys before making his way to the locker room. It’s like his body is moving on autopilot. Buck slumps down on the bench in front of the lockers in defeat, opening his locker and pulling his duffle bag out so he can start cleaning his stuff out. He hears the door open and the shuffling of feet and turns his head to see Hen cautiously approaching him.
“I guess you heard?” He turns back to his locker and grabs his spare clothes, shoving them roughly into his duffle.
No pressure tagging: @thewolvesof1998 @lover-of-mine @loserdiaz @wikiangela @monsterrae1 @fortheloveofbuddie @forthewolves @eddiebabygirldiaz @jeeyuns @callmenewbie @mellaithwen @captain-hen @ladydorian05 @jesuisici33 @honestlydarkprincess @hoodie-buck @giddyupbuck @devirnis @disasterbuckdiaz @spotsandsocks @athenagranted @try-set-me-on-fire @rainbow-nerdss @spagheddiediaz @wildlife4life @weewootruck @watchyourbuck @steadfastsaturnsrings
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