#what happened you ask. well (dial up tone noises)

[cflight]

drags myself onto the dash coughing up blood: im alive

[starmocha]

fly to you like birds do [Sylus/Reader ★ 2642 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Sylus can't sleep A/N: I have no idea what happened. It was supposed to be just smut, but I guess we’re sandwiching the smut between some fluff instead. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It was well past two in the morning when Sylus stepped out of the shower, water droplets still clinging to his hair. He dried himself and slipped on just a pair of simple burgundy pajamas bottom. There was a heat wave outside, and though the air conditioner was running inside his home, Sylus still felt restless. He returned to his room, still tensed, knowing sleep was not going to be in his favor tonight.

He stopped in his track when he heard his phone ringing. How peculiar, he thought, considering the time. Stepping closer to his bed, he saw your picture and name flashed up on the screen. Smiling, he answered, turning on the speaker:

“Is this my pretty little hunter calling me?”

There was a brief moment of awkward silence before he heard your voice: “I dialed by mistake.”

“I’m sure you did,” he responded cordially, humoring you in spite of seeing through the thinly-veiled fib. He placed the phone on the nightstand and climbed into bed under satin cover. The sound of your voice instantly calmed him, and he continued, “It’s two in the morning. Why are you still up?”

Silence followed his question again. Sylus frowned. “Hello?”

“I’m hanging up,” you declared, tone a pitch higher than intended, clearly embarrassed by this whole situation.

“Wait,” Sylus interrupted before you could end the call. He continued, “Don’t. Chat with me.”

“It’s two in the morning,” you echoed his earlier words back to him, “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“I can’t sleep,” he admitted, and then with a sly grin, he continued, “Maybe you could help me.”

There were slight shuffling noises on your end before you answered, confused, “How?”

“We can chat until we’re tired,” he said, turning to his side to face the phone. “We can start with why you called me in the first place, and don’t bother trying to lie to me again.”

You sighed, knowing you were never good at hiding things, especially from him. You admitted softly, “I can’t sleep either.”

“And your first thought was to call me? I’m touched.” He laughed when he heard your flustered voice on the other end. “Alright, alright, calm down, I was only teasing.”

“I don’t appreciate it,” you grumbled.

“My apologies then. Won’t you forgive me, Miss Hunter?”

“I think not.”

He hummed softly in amusement at your defiance. “Perhaps you would feel better if you punish me then.”

“Eh?”

“I have clearly wronged you,” he said, voice tinged with humor, “it is only right that I should be punished for my misdeed.”

Sylus could hear you talking quietly to yourself, clearly contemplating his words. He laughed softly to himself as he stared at his phone, picturing you in your apartment flabbergasted by the direction of this phone call. “Alright, time’s up,” he spoke up to your shocked gasp, “I gave you plenty of time to think, so unless…”

“Meow for me.”

“Pardon?”

“Meow for me and I’ll forgive you.”

Sylus chuckled, confused. “Are you serious?” he shook his head and questioned you again, “You are asking the leader of Onychinus to…meow?”

“Uh huh,” you answered, this time pleased with yourself for reducing this powerful man to a state of utter bewilderment. “Please?”

He sighed. “Well, since you asked so nicely,” he paused, and then he cleared his throat, “Meow.”

There was a pause. Sylus couldn’t hear anything other than the air conditioner running in his home, and just as he was about to check in on you, you spoke up with a squeal:

“You purred.”

“Is that not what cats do?”

“Well, yes. But. You purred.”

“We’ve established that already,” he said evenly, unsure of why this was making you so delighted. “Have I been forgiven?”

He smiled when he heard your giggle on the other end: “Yes, I’ve forgiven you.”

Sylus lay back down in bed, his eyes darting to the clock on his nightstand. He sighed. “It’s 2:35. Are you still restless?”

“Mm, yes,” you responded. “Are you tired? Do you want to go to sleep now?”

“I can’t sleep,” he reminded you again. “Then let’s continue. How was your day?”

Sylus lay there, listening to you describe your day, unbothered when you took too many tangents to get to a very anticlimactic ending of a very mundane story. He occasionally chimed in, but for the most part, he was more interested in just hearing your voice, listening to the subtle changes in tone and picturing your expression as you retold your day. He barely noticed you were done speaking until you called out to him, asking him about his own day.

“My day? Normal,” he answered vaguely.

“That’s cryptic.”

“Indeed,” he agreed, and you knew that was all you were going to get out of him.

“Sylus?”

“What is it?”

“What are you wearing?”

Sylus once again paused, surprised by the question that came out of left field. Once he composed himself, he smirked and answered, “Pajamas bottom. Should I also describe the color and material as well?”

“Please do.”

Sylus laughed and shook his head. “Burgundy and cotton.”

“Ah.”

Sylus raised a brow. “Not that I am complaining about this change in topic, but care to explain yourself, sweetheart?”

“I was curious,” you admitted in half-truth, “If I can picture what you are wearing, it would be like you are next to me right now.”

“How cute,” he cooed, unaware that he was making you blush with his voice, “Then may I ask what you are wearing, my dear?”

“An oversized shirt.”

“How unsexy,” he answered, disappointed.

“It’s yours.”

Oh. Well, that certainly changed everything, Sylus decided, intrigued now.

“My shirt?” The mental image of you in his shirt was definitely having an effect he didn’t realize it could. All wrapped up in his shirt, much too big for you, the sleeves too long, the length going down to your thighs—he was definitely appreciating the picture being painted in his mind. Sylus stifled back a groan, and continued in as even a voice as he could, “And how did you manage to obtain one of my shirts without my knowledge?”

“I took it from your place,” you confessed, “It was the one that I had accidentally spilled wine on, so I felt bad and tried to wash it out for you.”

“I appreciate the gesture, though I do have other shirts and it can easily be replaced.” He sensed your immediate quietness as a sign of embarrassment. He knew you did this as a sign of apology, and he quickly surmised his dismissive tone must have hurt your feelings, so he changed his phrasing: “Why haven’t you returned it to me then?”

“I haven’t had an opportunity,” you answered, tone dropping, a hint of sadness creeping through, “We haven’t seen each other lately.”

Ah. Sylus was catching on to the reason for this sudden late-night call. “And why are you wearing it now?”

Silence again.

“Sweetheart?”

That one word seemed to have broken a dam, and Sylus was surprised by the sudden quiet admission: “It feels like you.”

“You missed me,” he stated, and when he didn’t hear you respond, he wondered if his tone might have hurt you in some way again. He continued with a sigh, “I miss you, too.”

“Sylus…”

“I miss seeing you,” he added, knowing he was sounding a little more vulnerable than normal. “The sound of your voice…your smiles…the way…”

He paused, realizing the reason for his own restlessness. It wasn’t because of the heat wave happening throughout the city. Rather, it was the lack of a different kind of heat that was making him agitated.

“Sylus?”

“The way you feel in my arms,” he finished.

You didn’t respond, and Sylus laughed. “You’re blushing, aren’t you?”

“N-No!”

“Liar.”

He could hear you huffing in annoyance. Just as he was about to continue in his teasing, you hit him with another piece of information about your sleepwear:

“I’m not wearing anything underneath.”

“I-I see…” He paused, contemplating, before he questioned you, “Nothing? No—”

“No shorts. No panties.”

Well, that picture had unquestionably gotten even more interesting for Sylus. He held back another groan, as he pictured now just your bare body, caressed by nothing but just his shirt.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” you teased him, feeling triumphant for finally having the upper-hand in this phone conversation.

“Such arrogance,” he mumbled low, smirking, “Maybe you should take responsibility for making me so hard then.”

There was a surprised squeak.

He laughed low. “Come now, it’s only fair.”

“I-I don’t know…”

“Don’t know?”

“I…I don’t know how…I mean we’re just talking…”

Sylus leaned back against his pillows and laughed. “It’s because we’re talking that I am feeling this way now,” he answered low, his hands already tugging his bottoms down to discard to the side. He groaned softly at the sight of his erect penis. He continued, “Aren’t you feeling something from our conversation?”

“Y-yeah…” you admitted, “I…I think I am…”

He hummed softly, closing his eyes, the image of you in his shirt was once again before him.

“Need my pretty little cock-warmer,” he murmured, his hand wrapped around his hard member, a clear soft hiss escaped his lips. He lazily stroked himself as he continued to speak to you on the phone, his tone carrying shades of sensualness, “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

You flustered. “I-I have been…”

“No,” he interrupted you firmly, “Talk to me.”

“I…”

“Touch yourself,” he commanded.

You trembled at the sound of his firm voice, the dominating tone made you hesitantly slipped your hand inside the shirt you were wearing, your hand finding your breast. You toyed with your nipple, whimpering as it became firm.

“Where are you touching yourself?”

“M-my breast…”

Sylus hummed again, eyes still closed, but now he was picturing his large hand on your breast, massaging it gently, pinching your nipple until they were firm as you moan softly underneath him. He wanted to take that nipple in his mouth and sucked on it as he massaged your other breast, wanted to feel you squirm against him, your hands running through his hair as he ravaged you and keep you held down by the heavy weight of his body on yours.

“Sweetheart…”

“Sylus…”

“Take off my shirt.”

You immediately obeyed him. “It’s…it’s off.”

“Good girl,” he purred. “Lay back in bed, picture me with you.”

His voice sounded like it was an octave lower, soft pants escaped his lips as he continued to leisurely stroke himself. “Need you spread out beneath me.”

You felt a heat building up inside you as you listened to him speak, that devilishly deep voice always stirring something sinful within you. With each erotic word spoken by him, you parted your legs slightly and your hand moved lower to touch yourself somewhere much more intimate.

“Want to feel just how wet you can get for me.”

You let out a whimper, picturing his sharp ruby red eyes staring you down, his own fingers touching you. You rubbed your clit, tossing your head to the side with a moan, wishing it was his hand instead touching you, needing his lips on you, the feel of him against you.

“Want to taste you, sweetheart, eat you out until you come.”

You gasped at the picture, your legs trembling as you started to touch yourself more urgently. It wasn’t enough. You needed something more, something bigger…thicker—Sylus.

“Ohh, Sylus…”

“F-fuck…” he groaned at the sound of your moan. “Sweetheart, a man could get intoxicated hearing such sweet moaning…”

“Sylus…”

“Speak to me…what do you want?”

“You…”

Sylus let out a low moan, his pace increasing. “Sweetheart,” he gasped, feeling his arousal getting stronger at the sound of your voice growing needier, “need my cock buried inside you. Need my sweet little cock-warmer in my bed under me.”

He continued to mumble, “You always take me so well, always feel so good having you wrapped around my cock.”

That did something to you. You started to gasp into the phone as you writhed in bed, fingers sliding into your slick entrance as you so badly wished it really was his cock pounding into you. You curled up in bed face buried into your pillow, as you chased after the climax that was starting to build up inside. You couldn’t help the whines that came out of your mouth, knowing he was hearing every single incoherent word and noise you were making alone in your room through the phone. “Sy-Sylus…more…tell me more…please…”

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he was panting, sounding like, he, too, was losing himself in the image he was painting, “Want to hear more of your sweet moans, ah, want to see your face all flushed, all teary-eyed, as I fuck you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Want to feel my cock inside you?”

“Oh, god, yes!” Your hips buck against your hand. You were close, the way he described everything with that deep, rich, and sultry voice was having you clench around your own fingers. You rubbed your sensitive clit, but the mental image that it was him touching you instead had you crying out louder than expected.

“Need you now, sweetheart,” he gasped, “Need you so fucking bad, need you to cum on my cock, need to fill you up with my seed—such a good girl, such a pretty girl you are all flushed up as you take all of me—cum, cum for me, sweetheart—”

Sylus let out a groan at the same time he heard you screamed through the phone, the sound of your climax had him spilling into his hand. He lay panting hard in bed, his eyes shut, reliving the moment he heard you scream. The knowledge that he was able to bring you to orgasm through a mere phone call was a source of pride, especially when the two of you were so far away.

Still, he ached, wanting to feel your skin against his. He wanted to pull you into his embrace and let you relax in his arms as you both bask in the afterglow together. He wanted to feel your head resting on his chest, your soft hair brushing against his cheek, his lips on yours.

He sighed.

Several minutes passed as the two of you tried to even your breathing again. Sylus was the first to speak up, his voice soft and gentler than normal, “It’s late. You should get some rest.”

“No,” you protested this time in spite of your exhaustion.

“No?” There was amusement in his voice upon hearing your objection. “Why not?”

You were grateful he couldn’t see your blush. At his gentle coaxing, you admitted softly, “I don’t want to hang up.”

“It’s late,” he reminded you again.

Hearing silence, Sylus could sense your disappointment and he softened. “Alright,” he conceded, “Do you want to keep talking? Normally this time.”

He heard an indignant yelp for the latter comment before it was followed by weak mumbling: “I don’t know what to talk about…”

“What do you want then? Tell me.”

After a few beats, you confessed softly, “I just want to hear your voice.”

Sylus was both surprised and pleased. “My voice?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, then,” he started, a hint of mischievousness laced his voice, “If that is what my dear little hunter wants, then who am I to deny her this sweet request? Shall I lull you to sleep with my voice then?”

Your felt butterflies fluttering in your belly as he spoke. You knew he was relishing in this moment, but as embarrassing as it was for you, you were happy that he was so compliant.

“Close your eyes, sweetheart,” he said warmly, and you obediently followed his command, setting your phone close to you as you relaxed in bed. “And just listen to the sound of my voice…”

[irishmammonagenda]

How I Think The Obey Me Dateables + Co Would React to The Rumours™️

Summary: Rumours have been floating around the Devildom. Rumours about a certain Angel and Sorcerer...how will the demon brothers react? Word Count: funny joke! Content Warnings: nothing i dont think Disclaimer: This will probably not make a lot of sense unless you've read this fic here for context, but ykw life doesnt make sense you do you <3

[Brothers Version]

dividers by @cafekitsune

You had left the Sorcerers' Society feeling quite flustered, but also extremely pleased with yourself. Take that Solomon. You grin. In all the excitement of the following days, you'd forgotten about the rumour you had accidentally spread around the Devildom. Perhaps you shouldn't've pretended to be Archangel Michael to gain entry....

💙💚BARBATOS💚💙

Finds out about the rumours relatively quickly, Little D No.2 sees him nearly dropping a plate before catching it with his tail. He was sworn to secrecy.

Poor Little D No.2

His first thought is shock, his second thought is.

'What did you do MC?'

smiling he dials your number on his DDD.

You were in the middle of doing homework, or rather, sitting at your desk staring at your homework when Barbatos called. "Hiya Barbs!" You grin into your DDD. "Hello MC." You can hear the Butler's smile through the phone. "What's got you calling Barbie?" "There have been some rumours of a certian bastard sorcerer and Archangel in a romantic relationship...you wouldn't happen to know anything of it?" You laugh. "My assassination attempt went wrong." Barbatos lets out a small chuckle along with you. "I can't say Solomon doesn't deserve it." You pause. "Barbs?" "Yes, MC?" "Would you maybe wanna...go to the next Devildom Carnival with me?" You mumble into the phone, but he catches it. Thankfully, he was feeling nice, and did not teasingly ask you to repeat it. "Of course I would MC," Barbatos tone softens, smile visible in his voice. "Perhaps you can tell me more of this assassination attempt going aray?" "It'd be my pleasure Barbie."

❤️❤️DIAVOLO❤️❤️

Barbatos tells him.

Remember the sticker incident? Yeah. Diavolo laughs when he hears about it

This could be a great help in uniting the 3 realms!!!

And hey, if someone commissions Asmo to make stickers of Michael x Solomon, dont look at Diavolo who is very suspiciously whistling innocently.

"Hi Asmo!" Lord Diavolo steps out from the shadows. Asmodeus shrieks, loosing all colour in his face before gaining it back again and grinning excitedly." Diavolo! What are you doing in my room?~" Diavolo shooshes him, pale golden eyes widening as he looks around the Avatar of Lust's room. "Not so loud." After deeming it safe enough, the Demon Prince continues, "I snuck away from Barbatos" Asmo makes a noise of understanding, he looks up at the other through foxlike eyes. "So what can I do for you Dia? ~" The Prince smiles ear to ear. "Remember the stickers you made of me and Lucifer. Well, I'd like to commission something." Asmodeus gasps excitedly, moving a stray champagne coloured lock from his forehead, he grabs his bejeweled pen and journal. "Of course! We can discuss pricing later on! First things first! What would you like?~" "Well..." Diavolo lets out a booming laugh, "Maybe something quite similar to the stickers of me and Lucifer, except with Michael and Solomon?" Asmodeus sets his pen and sketchbook down, looking up at the Devildom's present goofball and future ruler. "Y'know what, Diavolo?" He smirks mischievously. "It's on the house." Diavolo pouts, "At least let me buy you Majolish's new line of clothes." "Awww!~ If I had a ring that I didn't want to keep for myself I'd propose to you!~" Diavolo laughs. These stickers were going to be amazing.

🩷🩷THIRTEEN 🩷🩷

Haha L Solomon

Knows it's fake from the moment she hears it.

Upset she didn't think to start it....but when she finds out from Satan you had a hand in it?

Damn bbg she's about to have your hand in marriage😏

You were just trying to walk home from RAD, having finally gotten a moment of peace from your idiots when an extremely loud 'VROOOM' startles you. A black motorcycle with pink accents traverses the streets of the Devildom like it's attempting to audition for Fast and Furious, before going rogue and coming straight towards you. Scared, you start to sprint, alas, even as an angel,you can't outrun motorcycles. You don't wanna die! The mystery rider drives beside your sprinting, catching up to you before reaching their leather gloved hands out and; YOINK! The motorcyclist pulls you flush against their chest, holding you there with one arm as they use the other to steer. You've been kidnapped by a motorcyclist who thinks they're in GTA. Great. Being kidnapped by a crazed motorcyclist before GTA 6....actually, maybe this was GTA 6. "As much as I'd love to hear your screams in a different context MC, can you stop screaming?" A voice asks through the Motorcycle helmet, you immediately stop squirming to get out of the Motorcyclist's arms. "Thirteen?!" She laughs, "Awww, I love it when you say my name!" You drive in relative silence for a while until she reaches a small cafe. She stops the bike and takes her helmet off, her long ombre hair is tied in a ponytail, she takes out the bauble and lets it fall down. Bloodied emerald eyes lock onto yours as she pulls you in for a kiss. "What's this about you dying and not giving me your soul...." She says in mock sadness before jumping off of the motorcycle, helping a dazed you to your feet. "No bother!" She flirts, tucking a stray hair away from your face, "You can just give me your soul, and your heart, and your body, and your mind!" You blush. "W-why are you in the Devildom Tee?" "Well a certain someone-" She pinches your cheek, "made up a fabulous rumour about that Rat-Bastard! So I'm here to give them a lovely little dinner date and my hand in marriage as a reward!" "Excuse me? Could you repeat that?!" You ask, heart racing. Thirteen just laughs and gives you a kiss that leaves you breathless, a soft blush of her own showing up on her porcelain skin. You walked out of your impromptu unofficial kidnapping dinner date a married MC. Time to go to Vegas to make it official!

💜💜MEPHISTOPHELES💜💜

The man found out because you told him.

He is not impressed. Couldn't you have made up a rumour about Lucifer dating someone?!

No MC, this is a serious newspaper! He is not posting gossip. Or advertising fanfictions. Especially ones with a name like that!

What do you mean Lord Diavolo would 'want you to do it, Mephisto!!' are you trying to emotionally blackmail him?!

"Pleaseeeee!" "No." You try again. "Mephisto pleaseeeeeee?" He gives you a rather rude look. Damn, rich people really were good at looking at people like they were dirt on their shoes. "I won't ask for anything ever again!" "You will, and the answer is still no MC." He glares at you. Pear green eyes filled with annoyance. "The RAD newspaper is sacred! I'm not posting fanfiction on there! We are a serious organisation!" "You post popularity polls." You deadpan. "This is why I hate rich people." "Let me go wipe my tears with my various stacks of grimm lying around. Speaking of which, how did you get into my house, MC?" You grin sheepishly. "No comment!" "MC." "Your little brother let me in! He's very nice, unlike you! Now please I'm begging you!" Mephisto raises an eyebrow. "You don't look like you're begging." "I'm not getting down on my knees. I'm going to piss in your cereal." Mephistopheles scoffs. "I don't eat cereal. That's poor people behaviour." You sniffle, deciding that the best course of action would be to annoy him. "You know, you're acting like Lucifer right now! Not letting me post this in the Newspaper." Mephisto waggles his finger at you, "Send me a Devilmail of what you want included later." "Yay!" You cheer. Satan was going to be so happy when he found out you managed to get your fanfic mentioned in the RAD Newspaper!

🩵🩵SIMEON 🩵🩵

He finds out after you print out the published parts of the fanfiction you and Satan wrote.

He's an author after all! What better person to get constructive criticism from?!

Someone please save this poor man.

Solomon looked up at Michael with dull eyes devoid of emotion, just previously they had shone with tears, now they were just dead. A graveyard of feeling. "Take it back Michael." The sorcerer mutters, but Michael heard him clearly. "What you said about Humankind...take it back!" "It's the truth Solomon!" Michael raises his voice, the rain dropping like bullets against the windows of Cocytus Hall. "I can't do this anymore!" Solomon blurts out, before turning on his heel, cape flapping, as he runs out of the door, into the storm outside, his arms cover tear-stricken his face. "Solomon wait!" Michael races out after him braving the- "MC..." Simeon looks up at you, he takes his reading glasses off and gently sets the paper down, attempting to avoid looking at anything else written on it. "MC, what is this?" "Art." You nod seriously. "It is good writing MC, but, why?" "Why not?" You tilt your head. "With all the love in my heart, darling, I'm forcing myself to forget this story's existence." You pat Simeon's back. "That's probably for the best Simmy."

🤎🤎RAPHAEL 🤎🤎

Solomon? Michael was going out with Solomon?

This worked out great for him actually, this meant he could eat Solomon's food more often. How delicious!

Disappointed when he finds out the rumours aren't true.

"Raphael for the last time, do I look like the type of person that would date Solomon?!" Michael says exasperatedly, covering his face with his hands and fake sobbing. Drama king. "You are a bit odd. Are you sure you're not dating him? I won't judge you, Michael, I respect you a lot." Raphael nods seriously. "I am not dating Solomon." Raphael pouts, "I see. Have you considered dating Solomon?" Michael grabs a pillow and screams into it.

🖤🖤SOLOMON🖤🖤

Finds out through Asmo

Is that a fanficiton, MC?

Two can play at this game.

You enter your room when you feel a hand go over your mouth. You attempt to scream, but seeing as there's a hand over your mouth, it doesn't exactly go very well for you. "Relax Mc, It's just me." You turn your head around to see Solomon and that signature sneaky smile on his face. You scream louder. He chuckles and mutters a few words, all of a sudden you feel very sleepy.... Hours later, you wake up on your bed, now around 3 feet tall and with familiar pink wool, your hands and feet are now hooves, beside you Solomon had been oh so kind as to leave you a note. Cant write Fanfiction if you don't have hands. Jokes on him. You're a co-author.

🩵🤍LUKE🤍🩵

hears some demons talking about it at RAD while he´s in Devildom history

Michael are Solomon are DATING??!!!

LIKE THE THING PEOPLE DO BEFORE THEY GET MARRIED??!!

Michael and Solomon are getting MARRIED??!!

Is Solomon his dad now?

Luckily for Luke and Unluckily for Michael, Michael is still in the Devildom, so when Luke gets home, he goes to ask Michael about it.

Sounds of sizzling and chopping can be heard from the kitchen in Purgatory Hall, and thankfully, it's not Solomon. Michael hums as he expertly dices the onions up and puts them into the blender with the tomatoes, broccoli and cauliflower. His long golden hair had been haphazardly thrown into a plait, small curls that didn't feel like conforming popping out here and there, sauce stains found themselves a home on his dark skin, he stuck his tongue out in concentration. Frozen meatballs had been left out to thaw, and now the Archangel was making the vegetables in the sauce so they'd undetectable to a certain fussy young angel. "Michael?" The young angel in question calls out in the doorway resulting in Michael exclaiming something that sounded like 'GAH!' and attempting to hide Luke's view of the blender. "Hiya Lukey!" Michael grins awkwardly. "What's up with you today? Haha." Now long used to Michael's strangeness, Luke pays it no mind. "Michael, I have a question." The archangel turns the various pans on the stove to the lowest heat before sitting on a stool on the kitchen island and pulling Luke up to sit on his knee. "What's up Kiddo?" He grins, tilting his head at the boy. Luke fiddles with his thumbs, his blue eyes meeting Michael's red ones. "Is it true you and Solomon are getting married?" Michael's smile drops. He pats Luke's blond hair, "No Lukey, me and Solomon are not getting married, nor are we in a relationship." Luke's face flushes, he clenches his tiny fists. "Those demons! Making up lies!" Michael shakes the image of you from his mind. "Yeah. Demons. Yup!"

lads im gonna be honest here i havent met mephsitles or hwoever u spell it a lot in game (as well as thirteen and raphael) so apologies if theyre really ooc😰

[babyleostuff]

pool date | xu minghao

☾₊ ⊹ currently playing: tamed- dashed by enhypen

summary | pool date with Minghao in Macau (+ other members annoying you :>)

genre | fluff 

word count | 1.8k

author’s note | I’ll need at least a week to recover from Mingyu’s and Mingaho’s photos, they want us dead fr (thank you for the boyfriend pics tho)

“You want to go swimming?” Minghao suddenly asked you, lifting his head from your lap. After their concert yesterday he swore he would use this day to rest, but hearing the noise and laughs coming from the gigantic pool below, he couldn’t resist.

“Sure, why not,” you smiled at him, giving a nod of approval. You spent the whole day together laying around and talking, so finishing it off with a couple of hours at the pool would be the best way to end it. 

You excitedly got up from the couch and went straight to your bedroom to find your swimming suit, leaving Minghao alone in the living room. Grabbing your phone on the way, you immediately dialed your best friend’s number, in hopes that they would help you pick out the best one. 

“Okay, listen. We’re going to the pool and I need help with choosing my swimming suit,” you said straight away, opening your suitcase.

“Hello to you too,” you rolled your eyes, searching for the bottoms of one of your bikinis. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you earlier, but everything was so hectic yesterday that I totally forgot. Forgive me, please?” you picked up your phone from the bed and set it next to the suitcase. 

“It’s okay, I’m just joking,” your friend laughed. “Now show me what we can choose from,” they said, getting closer to the camera to see you better. 

“Okay, so we have this one, but I think it might be a bit too revealing.”

“You think? People might get a heart attack if they see you wearing this. Leave this one for when you two are alone, you dork,” you laughed at their comment, but agreed wholeheartedly. 

You didn’t even know why you packed this, it’s not like it was a private pool, where you could actually use this one to your advantage. 

“What about this? Is this one family friendly?” you showed them the next one, which was a much safer option. 

“Oh, it’s so pretty. You’re going to look great in this one. And Minghao is going to love it as well,” they wiggled their eyebrows in a suggestive tone, making you snort. 

“It’s a pool full of kids, nothing is going to happen,” you said with a straight face. 

“Well, maybe not in the pool, but who knows what might happen after.”

“You know what,” you sighed in a joking manner. “Thank you for your help, but I’ve got to go.”

“Okay, remember to stay safe though. And have fun!” 

You quickly changed into your swimming suit, putting on one of Minghao’s t-shirts as well. Making sure you had everything ready, you grabbed your and your boyfriend's books from the bedside table, sunglasses and a sun cream and put them in one of your bags. 

“Okay, I’m ready,” you said, entering the living room space. He quickly got up and disappeared in the bedroom, only to come  out a second later. 

“How come are you always so quick?” you laughed. 

He simply shrugged and grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers. Smiling at him, you put your hand at the back of his neck and gave him a sweet peck on his lips. 

“I love you,” you said. 

“I love you too, honey. Now come on, let’s go,” he exclaimed, kissing your lips once more. 

As the doors to the elevator started slowly closing, some loud noises came from the hallway. And it was a very distinctive noise that you would recognize anywhere. Just as you were about to ask Minghao whether the boys are coming as well, a yellow floaty appeared between the closing doors. 

“No way. You’re going to the pool too?” asked Mingyu, entering the elevator with a towel and two big floaties, wearing only black sunglasses and his swimming trunks. Now you were a hundred percent sure that the attention of the whole pool was going to be on him. 

“Yeah, what a coincidence, right?” Seungcheol came right behind him, carrying his own stuff. 

“How many more of you are there?” asked Minghao, slightly annoyed. You knew that he wanted to spend this day alone with you, especially since you wouldn't be able to see each other that often back in Korea because of his schedules. 

“Just us,” said Mingyu. “And them,” he added, as Jihoon, Chan and Soonyoung entered the elevator as well. 

“What? We just want to spend some quality time together,” spoke Chan, as he saw the irritated expression of your boyfriend. 

“We see each other literally everyday,” he sighed and looked up toward the ceiling. 

You sent an apologetic look towards the boys, asking them silently to understand Mingaho and not bother him too much. 

You put your other hand, the one that wasn’t held by your boyfriend, around his bicep, stroking it gently with your thumb. Squeezing his hand, you reassured him that no matter what, this day was going to be perfect, and nothing could destroy it, not even his annoying members. 

As Mingaho turned his gaze towards you, a smile playing upon his lips, you felt your heart flutter - you couldn't help but drink in the sight of him, captivated by the depth of his affection apparent in his eyes. You send him a small smile as well, leaning your head on his strong shoulder. 

The moment the elevator doors opened, Mingyu and Chan were out in a second, probably the most excited about the pool. The rest of the boys teased them of course, commenting on their childish behavior despite being in their 20s, but they looked almost as excited as them. 

You and Minghao were the last to leave, trailing slowly behind them. Not wanting to bring any attention to yourselves, you found two empty sun loungers in the less crowded part of the pool area. Setting all your stuff aside, you took off Minghao’s shirt and took a look around. 

The afternoon sun blazed high in the cloudless sky, casting a glow over the poolside. The air hummed with the sounds of laughter, splashing water, and the gentle rustling of palm trees in the breeze. The scent of sunscreen mingled with the sweet fragrance of nearby flowers, and anywhere you looked, there was an air of relaxation and pure bliss.

“Should we go in the water?” Minghao asked. 

“Yeah, sure,” you said softly, following his lead towards the shallow part of the pool. 

You took your first steps into the water, immersing yourselves in its cool embrace. The sensation enveloped you, sending shivers of delight through your bodies. You waded deeper, the water rising higher until it enveloped your torsos, providing a refreshing respite from the heat.

“It’s actually colder than I thought it would be,” you said, trying to get used to the cold sensation. 

“Oh, really?” you could hear Minghao’s mischievous tone, but didn’t expect him to do anything. It’s when you felt a cold splash of water on your back, you heard Mingahao laugh loudly. 

“You did not just splash me, Hao!” you exclaimed, though not annoyed in the slightest. 

“It seems like  I just did,” he said proudly with a smirk on his face and splashed you again, drenching you completely. 

“Ugh, you asshole,” you beamed and threw yourself at him, making him lose his balance and fall into the water. You couldn't help but to smile widely, and let out a joyous laugh upon seeing his confused state, while being under water. 

He quickly got up though and wrapped his long arms around you, trapping you in his embrace, not giving you a chance to run away. 

“Let me go, Hao!” you exclaimed, trying to wiggle out of his grip. 

“Not a chance,” he said, and just as he was about to throw you under the water, a familiar yellow floaty hit the back of his head. 

“Hey, I found them,” suddenly Mingyu appeared, waving towards the rest of the boys. 

Seeing the slight agitation on Mingahao’s face, you pulled him toward you. 

“Hey, why are you so annoyed with them hanging out with us?” you asked, your voice laced with concern. 

He hesitated a bit before answering, not wanting to be that bad friend. “I just wanted to spend this day with you, and only you,” he said, adjusting his sunglasses. 

“Look, I can just tell them that I want you all to myself. Then they’ll probably leave us alone,” you put your hand on his cheek, making him turn his face towards you. You pulled his glasses on top of his head, making sure he was looking you straight in the eye. 

“No, it’s okay. I don’t want to ruin everyones’ day, just because I’m in a bitchy mood. I’m sure we’ll have a lot of fun with them too,” he send you a reassuring smile, guiding you by your waist towards Seungcheol and Chan. 

“Yes, our favorite couple is back!” Mingyu cheered and pushed Soonyoung under the water at the same time. You were sure that someone would end up dead, if they wouldn’t stop acting like literal toddlers.  

Minghao joined Mingyu in his shenanigans, teaming up against the older ones. You couldn't help but laugh at the silliness of your boyfriend and his friends, and feeling extremely grateful that they finally got some time to unwind and relax. 

“What did they do to you to get you out here?” you asked, joining Jihoon by the pool’s edge. 

“I figured since I’ve never been to Macau before, I should get out of my room and see something at least. And I really didn’t want to go out to the city with Wonwoo and Jeonghan,” he explained with a hint of humor in his voice. 

“Well, that explains everything,” you laughed and turned your gaze back to Minghao. 

You spent some time chatting comfortably with Jihoon and observing your boyfriend, before they decided it was time for photos. 

“Okay, I’ll take yours and you'll take mine,” said Mingyu, giving Minghao his phone. 

During the next couple of minutes, the boys each took their turn to pose and take photos with the amazing pool and hotel as the background. You instructed them how they should pose when they were out of ideas, because not only as a girlfriend, but as a fan, you’d know what would make Carats go crazy. 

“I think they all look great. You’ll have a lot to choose from,” you said, approaching Minghao and putting your arm around his waist. 

He looked at you with a soft smile, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you further into his side. You nestled your head against Minghao's shoulder, finding solace in his proximity. 

“Thank you for today. It was perfect,” he whispered into your ear and kissed the side of your head. 

Feeling like words weren’t enough to express how grateful you were as well, you leaned in slightly, your lips brushing gently against Minghao’s. It was a sweet and innocent moment, a tender expression of your shared affection.

“By the way. Could I maybe see the other swimsuit I heard you talking about?”

“Xu Minghao!”

[theghostinyourwalls]

Run From Me

Stu Macher/Ghostface x F!Reader

Tags: dubcon, noncon, role playing, knife play, threats, stalking, happy ending, smut, glove kink, mask kink, fingering, choking, breath play, power play, fear play, unprotected sex, creampie, inappropriate use of photography, established relationships.

“Hello?” You answered the ringing phone, politely.

“Hello,” An unfamiliar, deeper voice echoed your greeting.

“Yes?” You prompted.

“Who is this?” The man inquired.

“Hm, who are you trying to reach?” You replied with a question of your own.

“What number is this?” He seemed content to ask questions back, in no rush to get off the phone.

“Well, what number are you trying to reach?” You asked again, trying to be helpful.

“I don't know,” he answered, but he didn’t sound confused or unsure.

“Well, I think you have the wrong number,” You tried wrapping up the call.

“Do I?” Again he sounded sure of himself.

“It happens, take it easy,” You excused and hung up, returning to your calm night in. Your focus returned to the horror movie on the small screen in the living room. Jamie Lee Curtis was anxiously looking out her window when the loud startling ring of the phone came again.

“Uhm, hello?” You answered again.

“I’m sorry I guess I dialed the wrong number,” The same voice filtered through the telephone.

“So why’d you dial it again?” You huffed a laugh at the oddity.

“To apologize,” he answered smoothly.

“You’re forgiven, bye now,” You moved to hang the phone up, when he called out.

“Wait--Wait, don’t hang up.” There was an almost irresistible plea in his voice that kept you on the line. He sounded cute.

“What?” you indulged.

“I wanna talk to you for a second,” he simply answered.

“They’ve got 900 numbers for that, see ya.” You hung up once again, finding his simple request not as entertaining as you had hoped.

But then the phone rang once again, and you couldn't stop yourself from picking up.

“Hello?”

“Why don’t you wanna talk to me?” He played hurt, but the theatrics in his tone gave him away.

“Who is this?” you grew curious.

“You tell you your name, I’ll tell you mine.” he said it as though it was a scandalous proposition.

“Hah, I don't think so,” you shook your head, blushing. Were you just simply imagining him flirting with you or was that a line?

“What’s that noise?” he asked, he must have heard the screaming coming from Halloween.

“A scary movie.”

“You like scary movies?”

“Uh-huh,” You nodded enthusiastically.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

“I don't know,” You shrugged.

“You have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”

“Halloween, you know the one with the guy in the white mask who walks around and stalks babysitters? What’s yours?”

“Guess,” he insisted playfully.

“Um, Nightmare on Elm Street?”

“Is that the one where the guy had knives for fingers?”

“Yeah, Freddy Krueger, that’s right,” You nodded, impressed with his taste.

“I like that movie. It was scary,” he lowered his voice for effect.

“Well, the first one was but the rest sucked,” You gave your opinion.

“So, you got a boyfriend?” he asked, and then you became sure. He was definitely flirting.

“Why? You wanna ask me out on a date?” you teased, trying to stop the grin from completely overtaking your face.

“Maybe,” he answered in a sing-song note before asking again, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No,” you lied, enjoying the stranger's attention.

“You never told me your name,” he pointed out.

“Why do you want to know my name?”

“Because I wanna know who I’m looking at,” his voice dropped once again and a chill ran up your spine.

“What did you say?” You felt out of balance, suddenly snapping your attention to the dark windows surrounding the living room. You couldn't see anything beyond what the dim pool lights illuminated.

“I said I wanna know who I’m talking to,” he corrected himself.

“That’s not what you said,” You shook your head, a little breathless as fight or flight began to kick in your brain.

“What do you think I said?”

“Um,” You tried to think back to mere seconds ago. Had you really misheard him?

“Hello?” he tried again.

“Look, I gotta go,” you apologized, now eager to get off the phone.

“Wait, I thought we were gonna go out?” He sounded overly hurt and upset.

“Oh, no, I don't think so,” you declined, hanging up as he called his last demand.

“Don’t hang up on me!”

You turned the volume up on the television to keep your mind from jumping at every creak. He was just some creep playing a prank, you figured. you weren't going to be intimidated by a loser with nothing better to do than call random numbers and try to scare them. The ringing came again and you had half a mind to tell him off. You were going to make him regret trying to make fun of you.

“I told you not to hang up on me,” the lighter tone had disappeared from the near growl of anger that rumbled through the speaker now.

“Listen, I am two seconds away from calling the cops, and I do have a boyfriend! He's big and strong and when he comes home he’s going to kick your ass!” you tried to scare the man on the phone.

“I’m getting scared. I’m shaking in my boots,” he mocked.

“What do you want?” you asked, turning around in your living room, looking out the window.

“To see what your insides look like,” The crude statement sent shivers down your spine.

“Is this some kind of joke?”

“More of a game, really, can you handle that?”

“Please– No! I can’t--”

“Run, I’ll give you five seconds,”

You dropped the phone set at your feet. Your mind was moving faster than you could as you began locking the doors around the house. As you whipped around to the back door your racing heart dropped into your stomach. It was wide open. The man was already inside your house. You doubted you could outrun him if you shot out the door, and made the life dependent decision to hide in the house where you were more familiar than him and call the police. This was your one shot at survival. You turned and started to race to your room. As you passed by the kitchen you could hear the man laughing distantly over the phone, but it sounded off. It sounded as if it were two voices. One from over the phone and the other nearby. Out of the corner of your eye you saw the entryway closet door swing open, revealing a tall figure draped in black robes with a white mask that stretched into a scream.

Your lungs burned as you sprinted to your bedroom. His boots stomped right behind you as he closed in on you. As you reached the top of the stairs you noticed your bedroom door was closed. You knew it was going to take a couple more seconds to get it open and close it behind you, successfully locking yourself in. You just had to make it in time.

You grasped the cool metal of your door handle, but before you could turn it to push the door open, the masked intruder caught you. He grabbed your wrist, tearing it away from the door handle and pushed you up against the door. Air was forced out of your lungs as he crushed your body. His body firmly pressed against yours from behind until you couldn't move at all.

“Did you really think you could get away so easily?” He let out a soft hum as he drew a knife from his sleeve. “You should know, the only reason I didn't get you earlier was because I wanted to see you run from me. It just makes it all the more fun when I catch you.” He placed the knife to your throat.

“Please you don’t have to do this," you cried out a soft plea for mercy. “I’ll do anything you say please just don’t kill me,” you begged the masked man.

“Anything?” He asked and moved the blade away from your neck.

“Yes, please, just don’t hurt me.” your voice sounded shaky and more tears began trickling down your face.

“Now, now, that wasn’t part of the deal. I won't kill you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t make you suffer.” He pulls back his hand, knife tight in his grip, and thrusts it violently into the door right above your shoulder. You yelped and tried to flinch away only to find that you couldn't. The knife caught on your sweater, trapping you to the door.

Now that you couldn't escape from him he eased off of you ever so slightly, but his touch never left your body. You could feel his hands reach the hem of your sweater. His leather gloves cold on your bare skin as he began trailing them up your stomach. Goosebumps flared across your torso underneath his gloved fingertips. You gasped as he reached higher, touching the underside of your breasts.

“No, no please, you don’t have to do this!” You whimpered. He ignored your pleas as he roughly groped your breasts with his large hands. As he massaged your breasts, his fingers found your nipples. He would switch from rolling them between his fingers to harshly pulling them, creating a pulsing, twisting mixture of pleasure and pain. Your traitorous body reacted, shivering and shaking as the ache in your core craved more from your attacker. You still tried your best to hide the arousal, biting your tongue to stop any noises from spilling from your lips. The thought of him knowing you felt pleasure from this was mortifying and you were already overboiling from embarrassment. One of his hands left your breast as he moved it up to your head. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you to look at him, and you knew he would know by the look on your face.

“Oh don’t look so concerned, we’re just getting started.” His hand that was squeezing your breast began to travel down your body. He slipped past the waistband of your skirt and into your panties. The sensation of his gloved fingers brushing against your clit sent a jolt of pleasure throughout your body making you jump involuntarily. Your face burned with shame as he continued to move his hand further, sliding his fingers in between your slick folds. He circled them around gathering your arousal and bringing them back up to your clit. The obscenely wet sound it made was humiliating. you tried to hide your face from him which earned you a harsh tug on your hair. As he yanked your head back, exposing your neck to him, you let out a pitiful moan.

“You don’t have to keep lying to yourself. We both know how much you like this. I’ve barely touched you, yet you’re already soaking my fingers.” He started moving his fingers, circling your sensitive clit. You jumped at the sensation, still trying to get your body free from his touch. “What’s the matter? Are you embarrassed? Ashamed that you’re so wet for some random freak? Or maybe it’s guilt? Are you thinking about your boyfriend?”

“No! Stop it!” A violent sob ripped out of your throat. Even though you were trying to resist him, your pussy throbbed for more. As if on cue, fingers began moving further towards your entrance. His two fingers slid in with little resistance as they were coated with your arousal. A gasp left your lips as you felt his fingers sinking deeper into your cunt. Your wall’s clenched down on him as he reached a certain spot, his palm replacing the pressure on your clit.

“Speaking of your poor boyfriend, isn’t he supposed to be coming home soon? You know any second he could walk up here and see his perfect little girlfriend cumming around my fingers. Wouldn’t that be something?” He thrusted his long and dexterous fingers in and out of your pussy, curling his fingers to rub against your velvet walls. You could feel the pressure of your impending climax building in your abdomen. “But, I’m thinking of something much better.” He pulled his hand from your panties and brought his slick fingers to your face, dragging them along your cheek before pressing them to your lips. You reluctantly opened your mouth out of fear of what he would do if you didn't obey him. “Be a good girl and lick them clean.” He shoved his fingers into your mouth and you tasted your arousal on his leather gloves.

As you licked and sucked on his fingers you heard him groan in approval. Pushing his erection into you, he slowly grinded into the curve of your ass. He pressed down on your tongue before removing his hand from your face and trailing it down your body. Once he reached your thighs he began moving back up, lifting up your skirt in the process. The thin lace caught his eye, making him chuckle under his breath.

“Awe, did you wear these just for him? That’s so cute.”

You yelped as he yanked them down to your knees, leaving you completely exposed. The cool air hitting your core made you shudder. Then there was the soft clink of his belt followed by a deep sigh. His hard length slapped against your ass before he positioned himself between your legs. He rocked his hips against you, his cock sliding through your slick folds. The head of his cock brushed against your clit making you whine. He continued to repeat the lewd action until his length was completely covered in your arousal.

“C’mon honey, we both know you want this just as much as I do. Just look how you're drenching my cock. All you have to do is tell me how badly you need me to fuck you.”

“Please, just make me cum. Use your fingers, your mouth, your cock I don’t care anymore. Just stop toying with me,” you moaned.

“Oh, but it's so fun,” he teased, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. He pushed in slowly, still trying to push you past breaking point. The pain of his cock stretching you was oddly pleasurable. You took him inch by inch until he bottomed out. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix. The feeling of him that deep made your body feel weightless. Your thighs trembled at the sensation of being so full.

“Please, please fuck me. Make me scream,” you begged. With that he grabbed you firmly by the waist. His hips stirred as he began to slowly pull out of you before harshly slamming back into you.

“With a set of lungs like those, it would be a shame for me not to.” He kept the rhythm of his hips at a steady pace. Each thrust was harder than the last, pushing into you deeper and deeper. The blunt head of his cock rammed against your cervix, bruising it in the process. He never faltered keeping up his brutal pace. It was as if he was trying to split you open. The drag of his hard length in and out of you was animalistic. He enveloped all of your senses as you fully gave into the feel of him ravaging your body.

You didn’t notice his hand that had traveled up towards your neck until it was too late. He wrapped his large gloved hand around your throat. He rested it there, a reminder of the power he held over you. Slowly, as if to see if you would resist, he began to squeeze. It wasn’t a light squeeze, it was a possessive hold that he had on you. It made you lightheaded, but he never cut off your airflow. The lack of blood to your head heightened your sensitivity, making you distinctly aware of your throbbing clit. You tried to reach down to touch your neglected bundle of nerves, but your hand was smacked away.

“So desperate for release, but you don’t have any control here, do you sweetie?” He took his time sliding his free hand down to your core. He teasingly slapped your clit, making you cry out. “You look so pretty when you're in pain. It makes me wonder what you’d look like if I made you into a bloody mess.” His tone became darker, filled with a sick fascination. He groaned as you involuntarily clenched around him. You couldn’t lie to yourself, his perverted words only brought you closer to the edge. Finally, he brought his fingers to your needy clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud. Your stomach tightened as you felt your impending orgasm.

He was close too, you could tell by the way his cock twitched inside you. His breathing was heavy and every once in a while you could hear a small moan escape from him. He desperately rutted into you as your walls tightened around him. His cock pulsed deep inside of you as he reached his high. The sudden extra heat sent you over the edge as you came. Your pussy fluttered around his leaking cock, milking him dry. He released his hold on you allowing you to better catch your breath.

You whimpered as he pulled out of you. The sensation of his cum leaking out of your aching pussy and down your thighs made you shiver. You leaned against the door, both your mind and body exhausted.

As you began coming back to reality you noticed he wasn’t against you anymore. His touch was gone. you tried to get up and remove the knife from your sweater, but was gently pushed back against the door.

“I’m not done with you yet.” The wood floor creaked as he shuffled around behind you. Your body tensed as you anticipated his touch on your overstimulated body, but to your surprise he never made contact. You were going to try and free yourself again but froze as you heard the clicking of a camera lens. He was taking pictures of you. Then there was another click soon accompanied by more. Your face burned with shame as you squirmed, trying to at least save your dignity. He laughed at your pathetic attempt to cover yourself. “That’s cute, trying to hide.” he chuckled to himself.

He stood from where he was crouched behind you and pulled the knife out of the door, freeing you. He spun you around to face him and reached up to remove the mask hiding his identity, revealing your boyfriend, Stu Macher. His face had a warm glow from their intimate game as he grinned at you. He cupped your face and pulled you to look into his lovesick eyes. “Surprise, baby.”

[fantasticstoryteller]

Chance Meeting

Damian heard a noise as he left the shelter. He followed the sound behind the building, in the alley, where someone was leaning against the wall. His first thought was that the person was Drake.

They were the same height, had the same skin tone, same hair color, and there was—something—about the stranger that was eerily like Drake. “Are you a clone?” Damian demanded.

The stranger gave a weirdly wet laugh. “Trust me,” the stranger said, still leaning heavily against the brick of the building, “I am way too cursed to be a clone.”

Odd expression. Still, it was possible. Damian could think of no reason for someone to create a clone only to curse it.

The stranger coughed and Damian saw blood fly into the air. “You are bleeding,” he noted.

“Yeah. That happens when you get cut open.”

Damian frowned. “How did that happen?” he demanded.

Another wet laugh. Damian could now see that one of the stranger’s arms was wrapped around their middle. Blood seeped into the shirt around the arm. “Well, when someone holds a knife,” snarked the stranger. The stranger coughed again.

“You need medical attention,” said Damian firmly.

The stranger’s head whipped around abnormally fast, glowing green eyes pinning Damian where he stood. “I don’t trust hospitals.”

That was—fair, Damian supposed. Most of his family didn’t either. They almost exclusively when tot Pennyworth. “What about butlers?” asked Damian.

The green faded into ice blue. Even the shape of the eyes looked like Drake. “What?” asked the stranger.

“Do you trust butlers?” asked Damian patiently. The stranger was skittish like some of the strays brought to the shelter.

“I thought butlers only existed on TV,” said the stranger slowly.

Damian pulled out his phone and began dialing. Besides, having family see to the stranger’s injuries would allow them to definitively determine if the stranger was a clone.

~~~

I don't know if I'm going anywhere with this, honestly. Feel free to pick it up and play with it.

[juleswritesstuff]

Girl got a gun

What happens when a particularly dangerous situation forces you to face your feelings for the man that was only supposed to be your arranged husband?

MafiaBoss!RegulusBlack x MafiaBoss!Reader

Warnings: blood, slightly descriptive murder, gun violence.

Nothing is really described in too much detail, but I thought best to put some warnings anyway. Enjoy 💗

Clink.

Clink.

Clink.

That was the only noise resonating in the air. The heels of your shoes making contact with the marble floor of your house. 

Your shoulders slouched just the tiniest bit as you stepped foot in the living room.

You were tired of dealing with stupid men all day. Men that didn’t recognize your position in the business. 

‘I'm really sorry Mrs Black, but we were told that your husband would be the one hosting the meeting.’

‘Well, it’s my properties we are discussing here. And Mr Black was busy’

‘But Mrs Black-’

‘It’s Miss Y/l/n, Mr Malfoy. I didn't take my husband's name, and I never will.’ you said coldly.

Silence fell in the room.

‘It doesn’t matter Miss, you’re part of the Black family now, therefore all your belongings are now in the hands of Mr Black’

You were starting to get pissed, your expression hard.

You took out your phone with a sigh and started dialing a number that became very familiar in the span of the past two years.

Behind you James and Remus exchanged a knowing glance. 

One ring.

They had been with you for the past seven years and they knew you like the back of their hand. They knew shit was about to go down.

Two rings.

Three rings.

‘Yes, darling ?’

That voice made everyone freeze, sitting straight like he was there with them. 

Their eyes now held a veil of worry and fear.

The corners of your mouth perked up a little, but, at the same time, a feeling of anger settled in the pit of your stomach. 

Why couldn’t they respect you like they respected your husband ?

You quickly let the feeling fade. It wasn’t the time.

‘Sorry to bother, Regulus dear. These gentlemen here are asking why you’re not the one hosting the meeting. They’re saying that since I'm married to you all my properties and belongings are now yours.’

You said looking straight at Lucius Malfoy. You were too kind to tell him the exact names of the people that were making your day very difficult, otherwise you knew Regulus would’ve done something about it. But you needed all of them to be alive and with all four limbs so that the business would run smoothly.

‘Well, love, even if you’re married to me your family businesses and properties are still yours. I don't have any desire to steal your righteous spot as the head of the Y/l/n family. Everything is and will remain under your name. That is why you are the one hosting the meeting, as you righteously should’

The smirk on your lips turned into a pleased smile.

Before you could add something else and say goodbye his voice filled the vast room again.

‘Why ? Do these gentlemen have a problem with that ?’ he asked in a firm tone, sharp at the edges.

Your smile grew seeing the panic in their eyes.

They started to vehemently shake their heads.

‘No, honey. Don’t worry. Just a quick explanation to clear any doubt.’

Their shoulders relaxed a bit after the words left your mouth, but the look of anxiety never fully disappeared from their eyes.

‘Sorry if I bothered you, I’ll go now. Let you focus on your work’

A light chuckle could be heard from the other line.

‘You could never bother me, love’ he said warmly. You could hear the soft smile on his lips.

The curve on your mouth was now a little timid, but you made sure not to let the men in front of you see that.

‘I'll leave you to it now. See you at home, dear’ you said, your tone a bit softer despite yourself.

‘See you later, baby’

The pet name made your stomach churn, but, again, you pretended like nothing happened.

You were about to hang up when he spoke again.

‘Oh, before I forget, I suggest to all the gentlemen present in the room not to question my wife ever again. Or I promise there will be consequences‘ his voice now completely firm and intimidating.

And with that he hung up.

Mr Malfoy visibly swallowed.

But he clearly wasn’t the only one being affected by Regulus’ words.

No one dared to utter a word after the call, and the meeting went on smoothly.

Two years ago you would’ve never thought of getting married.

You were only twenty, the only thing on your mind was to finish college and then enter the family business.

But being part of one of the most powerful families in England was a tough job.

You were the youngest child, so, technically, you weren’t expected to run the business, but life, as you were about to learn, never went as you planned to.

In the span of two years you lost both your brother and your father.

Your mother had died when you were five. You didn’t remember a lot of it, but there was an image stuck in your brain of a bullet being shot in her head right in front of you and blood everywhere. At least it was a recurring dream, but you could swear you remembered the sensation of your skin and clothes being covered in the red, metallic liquid.

Your father had always tried to convince you that it was just a dream, a nightmare, but you could see the pain in your brother’s face every time you talked about it. 

You were young but you weren’t stupid.

Your father spoiled you growing up, he gave you everything you wanted, you just had to mention it. But toys, clothes and jewelry weren't things you really wanted.

You wanted to be part of the family business and not be just a spoiled, little girl who came from a rich and powerful family.

Your brother trained you for this. You had asked him the day of your 14th birthday. Surprisingly he agreed. He thought you needed to know how to defend yourself, and he also knew that your brain could be a wonderful weapon. 

What you didn’t expect was your brother being taken away from you when you were eighteen. 

His body was found in the back of one of the casinos your family owned, his head split in two by a bullet and his throat slit. An execution.

At that time the world collapsed on you, your main firm point had been killed and you were lost. He had always been by your side, no matter what. And now he just wasn’t here anymore.

Getting back up wasn’t an easy task, but you were a Y/l/n and you needed to pull your shit back together.

Luckily, James and Remus were there for you. They had been your bodyguards for four years, and they became a constant in your life. Even though they were so young, the same age as you really, they were the best at their job.

They helped you with your training when your brother died, just like your father had instructed them. You spent so much time with them that you considered them your friends more than your bodyguards.

Things started to get better after some time, but just as you thought you were finally doing fine, the news of your father's illness made all of your hopes crumble.

A few months before he passed away he had called you in his room and to give you the news.

He wanted you to get married.

To the youngest of the Blacks.

You had refused, at first. Marriage wasn’t on your mind at that moment, especially not an arranged one.

You knew about the Ancient and most Noble House of Black, everyone knew who they were. One of the most influential and powerful families in England, if not in the whole United Kingdom.

But your father had begged you.

‘Y/n, please think about it. I am dying, this is the reality and everything will be in your hands when the day comes’

‘So you don’t think that I could make it on my own ?’

‘Oh, sweetie, I'm more than sure of it’ 

He said with a proud but tired smile.

‘Then why ?’

‘I want you to be safe, and he could be a big help with that’

‘I know how to defend myself, dad. And I also have Remus and James’

‘I don’t mean safe in that way’

A confused frown appeared in your face

‘Y/n, this…business is dangerous. I didn't expect you to be in the middle of it at all. Your brother was meant to take over one day, but unfortunately the day never came and it will never come, so it’s your turn now. And I know that you will do a wonderful job, but I can't let you do it alone. You need someone on your side, someone who you can trust blindly when I cannot be there anymore.’

‘And you think Regulus Black could be that person ?’

Saying that you were skeptical was an understatement.

‘Yes, I firmly believe that. He’s been one of my most trusted collaborators, I am sure he will treat you right. He promised me.’

Your head snapped up, eyes on him.

‘You talked to him before talking to me ?’

Your father sighed.

‘I had to. I had to make sure he would accept and that he would be the right choice’

You stared at him in disbelief.

‘And he agreed ?’ you asked bewildered.

‘He did. Without hesitation’

‘So this is already decided’ you sighed, defeated.

‘I am sorry, sweetheart. I must make sure that you are safe and protected under all aspects’

So that's how you found yourself betrothed to Regulus Black.

At the beginning you hated the idea, but then you gave it some thought. 

You knew how the mafia world worked. Everything was about respect and power. Regulus Black had both, while you were just a spoiled little girl who had just inherited all of her father's businesses. 

In the end, you decided, you could’ve used his help.

The first time you met was a week after your talk with your father.

You knew Regulus by fame. He was the youngest of his family, being only 23 years old, but he was the one ruling it, taking Sirius Black's, his older brother, place as he,  apparently, had a very smart brain and an inclination to persuasion. He was clever, ambitious and incredibly resourceful. He was a rouler, a king. 

You had also heard about his looks, his appearance being the center of a lot of the  gossip you heard in the clubs. Voices of ebony black curls and eyes that resembled the coldest and grayest of storms.

So you had expected someone good looking.

What you had not expected was that he was more than good looking.

The man in front of you was handsome, gorgeous even. 

He looked like he could’ve been part of the most majestic of frescos if he hadn’t been right in front of your eyes in flesh and bones at that moment.

But you didn’t let his appearance deceive you. It didn’t matter if you found the man beautiful, you needed to trust him above all.

‘Miss Y/l/n it’s a pleasure to meet you’

His voice was smooth and almost honey-like, very calm and composed. 

‘Please, you can drop the formalities Mr Black, we’re gonna be married soon anyway. You can call me Y/n’ you said, extending your hand for him to shake. A formal greeting.

‘I believe this is the reason you wanted to meet. Oh, and, please, call me Regulus’

He took your hand in his, shaking gently. The smile on his face could only be described as sincere.

His hands were delicate and smooth with slender fingers adorned by several rings.

Certainly not what you expected from the hands of a mafia leader.

‘Yes, there are certain things that I would like to discuss with you before the wedding. If i am allowed’

A curious expression appeared on his face as he tilted his head slightly to the side.

‘You are always allowed to say whatever is on your mind Miss Y/l/n’

Your eyebrows lifted the slightest bit in surprise. You hadn’t expected the youngest of the Blacks to be this…polite.

You had expected a young, spoiled brat who had too much power and liked to play with it. You thought he would tell you to follow his rules and nothing more.

You certainly didn’t expect him to be this condescending.

‘I accept to become your bride…’ you started, but he sensed that you probably weren’t finished.

‘But…’ he added.

He definitely understood that there was something more.

So you went on.

‘But...there are conditions’ 

You met his eyes and you were surprised to find them already focused on you. 

They were calm, collected, if not a little warm. A stark contrast with their gray hue.

‘Please tell me. I’ll do whatever is in my power to make sure your needs are met’

For a moment you just stared at him, studying him. And you were surprised to find nothing but honesty in his eyes.

So you went back to talking.

‘I want to keep my family name’

That was important for you. You were about to become the head of the family, and you didn’t want anyone else's name on the properties. It was also the only thing that would keep you connected to your family after the wedding. Officially you would’ve become part of Noble house of Black, but you still wanted to have power over what was yours. Which brought you the second point.

‘And I will maintain the power over my businesses’

Another important thing was maintaining your position as the boss. The main reason you accepted to get married was because he would help you maintain your status, not to give your title to him. That was not negotiable.

After that you remained silent. You wanted to let him think, but not even ten seconds later he spoke.

‘Is that all ?’ 

He asked calmly, with genuine curiosity in his voice. His hand propped under his chin supporting his head, elbow on the table. The stance made him look even more attractive than he already was.

Then his eyes landed on yours and he gave a tiny nod.

‘I agree to both’

Your eyes widened a little as the words left his mouth. Of course you hadn’t expected him to just refuse on the spot, but those were requests that could cost him some of his power and possibly the loyalty of some of his collaborators, especially as the head of the family, and a loss of properties. And yet he didn’t hesitate to agree.

Maybe your father was right. Regulus Black could be trusted.

You could see the faces of the men accompanying Regulus behind him, and they seemed rather amused by the whole thing.

Suddenly a phone started ringing.

Only when his gaze landed on your figure they softened the tiniest bit.

Regulus patted the left side of his jacket to fish out a phone from the inner pocket. Looking at the contact name his face changed radically. His soft and gentle features hardened, jaw tense and eyes suddenly cold.

‘Excuse me Miss Y/l/n, apparently my brother needs me’ 

You nodded and he brought the phone to his ear.

‘Sirius. Yes. Ok. Then find a solution. Fine, I'll be there in twenty. Try to handle it while I’m on the way’

And then he hung up.

‘I’m really sorry Y/n, but there is an important matter that suddenly came up’

‘Of course, I understand’

You both stood up and with a handshake you said your goodbyes.

But before he could walk out of the room you called his name.

‘Regulus ?’

He turned around.

‘Yes ?’

‘I am putting my trust in you. Don’t make me regret it’

A small smile appeared on his lips. His eyes held a warm look. 

‘I promise you won’t, Y/n’

And with that he left.

The day of your wedding wasn’t how you had expected it. Just a small ceremony with the Black family and the Y/L/N family, or what remained of it, united. No vows, no kissing the bride, no big ceremony.

Just a formula pronounced by the priest and then the blood oath. A union that could not be broken. Both you and Regulus cut the palm of your hands with a sacred knife, then shook hands so that your blood could mix together and form a bond stronger than any ring.

That was the day your life changed.

For the better or for the worse you couldn’t tell.

You started taking care of the family business, attending meetings, keeping everything on track, lots of travels to go and meet all of your father’s international collaborators and, apart from the occasional fights that happened at the clubs and people (men) constantly questioning your position as boss just because you were a young woman, you were handling it well.

What you weren’t handling the best way was your role as a wife.

You and Regulus started to get to know one another by force of things. Living in the same house you couldn’t ignore each other for too long, and it sure wasn’t your intention. You were married to him, you couldn't ignore each other till the end of your days.

And so thought he.

At the beginning it was a bit awkward. 

Sharing space with a person you didn’t really know was less than pleasing, but with the passing of time it became easier. You slowly learned each other’s habits and routines, likes and dislikes, for example how he loved his coffee black with two spoons of sugar, because despite being a cold hearted mafia boss he had a huge sweet tooth, or how when he was stressed he started rubbing his left temple. Never the right, always the left. 

Or how he fidgeted with his rings when he was thinking.

For you, sleeping was especially uncomfortable. You had always slept alone, so suddenly sharing a bed with another person made you feel slightly uneasy. You didn’t sleep much during the first month, only being able to fall asleep out of exhaustion after a week of staying up every night.

But then you got used to his presence beside you, almost turning the tables because after nine months of living together the only nights you couldn’t sleep were the one where he was out dealing with his business.

During those nights you missed the feeling of having him by your side, telling you how his day had been, or when your arms would brush by mistake, sending shivers down your spine.

Your relationship was peculiar, to say the least.

At the beginning of your marriage you decided to adopt a strategy so that anyone would believe that you were a close-knit couple. And that’s how the pet names started.

What better way to show somebody that you were in love ?

At the top of the list there would’ve been physical touch, but neither you nor Regulus were fans of PDA, so pet names would do.

You used them especially during calls. It was rare for you to be both at the same meeting, but when you needed each other's opinion a call was more than welcome.

At the beginning they didn't affect you, it was just a strategy to show that you were close and powerful together, that now you were one.

But when you started to get to know Regulus things changed. 

Your feelings changed.

Because he was the first to actually take your thoughts and opinions to consideration, he was the first one to ask for your ideas. You discussed things together, you were equals.

Your view of him started to change.

He was kind to you, he always made sure that you were comfortable and understood, he had the kind of sarcasm that would make you laugh so hard that you couldn’t even feel your cheeks.

So it wasn't a surprise to you when you started to feel a certain warmth when he called you ‘baby’ or ‘love’ or any other endearment, or when you were in the kitchen and he lightly put his hand on the small of your back to pass behind you, or when you stared at each other for a little too long, or when his hand found yours during dinner and galas to make sure that you were always by his side.

Small touches became ordinary, an everyday thing, a sign that you were more than comfortable with the other's presence.

One thing you never did in two years of marriage, though, was kissing.

Your lips never touched, not even at the altar.

Both of you knew that what was between you two wasn't a marriage of convenience anymore. The things you both felt for the other were definitely something more than that, the little touches, the longing stares, the need to protect each other. It was more than what it used to be.

But, no matter what, you had never kissed. It felt like crossing a line of some sort, and, apparently, neither of you was ready for that.

The leaders of two of the most powerful mafia families of the United Kingdom acted like middle schoolers around each other because they were both cowards.

Funny, wasn’t it ?

The good thing was that now, you considered the house you shared together your home.

At first it was hard. It was a new place for you, and you had to share it with a person  you didn't really know. It felt more like hell on earth. But after two years you could finally consider the place your home.

The same home you had just returned to. With your shoulders slightly slouched because of the anger and tension of your meeting with all those shitty businessmen that couldn't seem to respect you, you took off your heels, feeling the cold floor beneath your feet. You headed to your bedroom to take off the dress you were wearing, and to put on something more comfortable.

Looking at the clock on your nightstand you noticed it was way past eight. Regulus’ meeting was supposed to end at seven forty. You furrowed your eyebrows.

He must have stayed a little bit longer to talk with the Prewett siblings who were close friends of yours.

You walked to the kitchen, deciding to cook something.

You were starving and you were sure Regulus was too.

As soon as you started chopping the vegetables you heard the door open.

Regulus was home.

"Hey Y/n" he said. His voice was unusually breathless and almost pained.

You turned around still chopping the carrot on your tray.

"Hi, I'm making something to eat so-"

The words died in your throat when you took in his figure and noticed his state.

He was covered in blood.

It was on his shirt, his pants, jacket and shoes.

Even his face hadn’t been spared as the little stains and smudges of red blood contrasted with the fair complection of his skin.

Your heart stopped beating for a second.

"Oh fuck, Reggie" you didn’t even notice the nickname leaving your lips, breath knocked out of your lungs as you dropped the knife and ran to him.

"What happened ? Are you hurt ?" 

You didn't even let him speak, you started analyzing his body looking for wounds, scratches, bullet holes, even the smallest of paper cuts would’ve sent you spiraling in that moment.

You hoped to find none of those.

"Hey, hey" he stopped your hands from roaming his chest, taking them in his.

"Hey, look at me"

His voice was rather calm for the situation you were in.

You locked eyes with him, saying nothing and everything at the same time.

"I’m fine" he assured you, keeping eye contact.

"But, the blood-"

"The blood is not mine, love. Don’t worry" 

The endearment would've made you blush if he hadn't been dripping blood on your floor.

But that was not the main focus at that moment.

"Did someone attack you ?" you asked.

It wasn't uncommon for some rival families to organize attacks to the clubs you owned or to some of your minor collaborators, but no one ever tried to attack the head of the clan. It would’ve been too risky, too reckless. Basically a suicide.

Apparently things were changing.

He nodded to your question.

"An ambush" 

You sighed.

"Where ?" 

"We were on the road, no specific place"

"Any pattern that could lead to a specific clan ?" 

"None that i noticed" 

"Did they follow you ?"

"Almost certainly" 

"Are you hurt ?" you asked, blood pumping fast in your veins. You knew there were people on their way to come and kill both of you probably, but you needed to make sure that he was alright.

"Y/n that's not-"

"Are you hurt ?" you asked again a little louder. Your tone firm and steady.

"No, I am not hurt" he answered, looking straight into your eyes, hands on your cheeks as his thumbs started stroking gently.

"Ok, we need to hide before-"

Regulus never managed to finish his sentence because bullets started flying right into your kitchen.

You both ducked under the furniture, hoping it would protect you just long enough to get your weapons out.

"Third drawer on the left !” you shouted.

Regulus stood a little bit, just enough to move his feet and drag himself near the drawer, taking out your only chance of survival.

"Baby !" he shouted above the sound of bullets flying above your heads, throwing you a gun.

You didn't pay too much attention to the pet name, your lives were at risk.

He took a gun as well and put two loaders in the pockets of his pants, throwing you two more.

You both loaded your guns and then all hell broke loose.

You shot two men right in the head, wounded another one on the shoulder while Regulus finished him, then killed two other men.

But they were too many for just two people, even if the people were as skilled as you and your husband.

"We need cover !" Regulus screamed.

He was right, you would've never come out alive if it was just you two.

You hoped James and Remus had their phones with them.

Lucky for you James answered immediately.

"Miss Y/l/n, is everything alright ?" he asked. 

Jesus, how many times did you have to tell him to drop the formalities ? 

"Not really, James. They’re shooting us."

"Hang in there, Y/n. Remus and I are coming" 

"Hurry up, please. We're running out of ammos" 

"Give us five minutes"

"You have three" 

And then you hung up.

You turned to Regulus who had just dodged a bullet and had planted another two in one of the man's head.

This wasn't exactly how you imagined your day would end, covered in blood and with bullets risking to kill you every five seconds.

You were so lost in your thoughts for a moment that you hadn't noticed a gun pointed directly at you from afar. 

The only thing you heard was the sound of a bullet being fired, but it never came.

Regulus’ inhumanly fast reflexes prevented you from being hit.

He launched himself onto you, tackling you on the floor right behind the island of the kitchen.

As soon as you understood what had happened, you turned to your husband who was now sitting beside you.

"Shit, Reggie, are you hurt ? Did he get you ?" you asked frantically, panic in your eyes and voice as you cradled his face in your hands, tracing his cheeks with your thumb in a frenzy.

He looked at you with a look that you couldn't read, he was staring directly at your soul. 

He didn't say anything, didn’t talk.

He just took your hands in his and placed them on his chest, right above his heart.

A confused look adorned your features.

“No” he breathed simply “no, they didn’t”

And it felt like you could breathe again.

You let out a long exhale, and you could feel your eyes start to water, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks at the mere thought of losing Regulus.

But he was fine.

He was in front of you, and he was fine. 

He was alive.

And then, like he was hit by a sudden epiphany, he lifted his arms to gently stroke your cheeks, before crashing your lips together in the most urgent, earth shattering kiss you had ever had.

Your brain didn’t have time to process what was happening because your body responded first, and what could you do if not kiss him back, just as strongly, just as fiercely, like it could be your last kiss ever.

You couldn’t hear guns shooting anymore, there were no more bullets flying around, everything was suddenly muted, just white noise surrounding the two of you. 

When you pulled back the world started spinning again, the noise and the battle surrounding you filling your ears, but his hands never left your face.

It could’ve been the end of the world and wouldn’t have given less than a shit.  There were just his lips on yours, his hand on your cheek and your hearts beating together.

"I’m sorry, I had to do it. Even just once, before I died" he said, eyes still glued to yours.

“Don’t you even dare say that word Regulus, don’t you even fucking think about it” you said through gritted teeth, voice shaking.

The hand on your cheek went to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as his thumb stroked your cheekbone softly.

“You have nothing to worry about, my love" he whispered with a smile on his face "I can't die before I get to taste your lips again”

You let out an incredulous chuckle, your shoulders shaking despite yourself.

“I hate you” you said, not an ounce of hatred in your voice.

“And i love you” he said, like it was the easiest thing in the world, like you weren’t surrounded by people who wanted you dead, like the place you had started to consider your home wasn’t being destroyed by bullets and guns.

You were almost sure you heard James and Remus shout your name, a clear sign that they had arrived.

And yet you couldn’t focus on anything else that wasn’t the man in front of you, a man you never expected to fall in love with. He hadn’t been part of your perfectly programmed life before everything went to shit. He was brought into your exitence when you needed him the most, and now you weren’t sure if there was even a life without him in it.

You liked to think that your father knew what he was doing when he chose him to be your future husband. He had always had a talent for reading people.

“I love you, too” you said, just like that. As simple as a breath of fresh air.

Such a mob boss thing to do, confessing your feelings in the middle of flying bullets and blood.

But it didn’t matter, because Regulus' eyes became the softest you had ever witnessed, and the smile on his face was genuine. Just for you.

It died down quickly when you heard the gunfire getting closer to you.

His face lost every trace of softness, becoming cold, calculating and focused.

“Stay here and give me cover. Don’t let them see you” he said, kissing your cheek before sliding smoothly on the other side of the kitchen island.

You nodded.

“I swear, if you die I'm gonna kill you” you told him, looking him directly in the eyes.

“Doesn’t sound very logical, baby. But I'll try my best not to” he said as the corner of his lips lifted up in a smirk, before firing his gun and diving back into the battle.

A man appeared next to you, and, before he could even breathe, you put a bullet through his head. 

You located another one aming right at Regulus with his weapon. You took the knife you had been using to cut the vegetables mere minutes earlier and shoved it right in his throat before he could pull the trigger.

You preferred bladed weapons over anything, but they weren’t really useful when your opponent had a gun.

You could see Remus and James taking out eight men at once, joined by Regulus’ bodyguards Barty and Evan.

You threw the knife right at a man’s heart, and shot two others right in their skull.

And then everything turned quiet.

No more shooting, no more screaming.

Just silence broke by your ragged breathing, and a bunch of bodies covered in blood on your floor.

For a heartbeat or two everything was silent, except for the ring in your ears and the furious thumping of your heart in your chest.

Suddenly you heard the bang of a gun.

Regulus-

You could see James and Remus in front of you, alive and breathing. Barty and Evan were a few steps away.

Regulus.

Your blood ran cold.

Your world stopped.

No.

No no no no no no no no.

“Next time you try to kill my wife think twice about it”

You turned around so fast that your neck might've as well snapped. But you didn't care because you had to see, you had to make sure that-

Regulus was alive.

He was alive.

And he wasn't bleeding.

He wasn't injured.

He was fine.

He was breathing.

Only then air filled your lungs again.

He was standing next to a man, hovering above him in all his height.

His gun was smoking and pointing at the man's arm which was now bleeding on the floor and stretched in your direction. He had tried to shoot you.

Regulus’ foot was right on his throat, expensive black shoe covered in red and pushing mercilessly down, making all the little bones crack.

His face was stone cold, not a sign of emotion in his features.

“Actually, how about you never think again at all”

With a swift motion Regulus directed the gun to the man's head, then pulled the trigger.

And, finally, everything was over.

There was blood everywhere, corpses on the floor, and you would clearly have to move from that house seeing the wreckage that was left of it.

But for now you didn't care.

For now everything that mattered was that Regulus was in front of you, just a few feet away.

Alive and breathing.

And that was enough.

You immediately dropped the gun you had been holding.

It fell with a loud ‘tunk’ as you ran towards the man that had stolen your heart without even trying to.

Your body collided with his in a desperate hug. Your arms flying to circle his neck, hands diving in his soft, ebony locks.

His arms were around your waist, holding you tight, like he never wanted to let you go.

And, well, neither did you.

You let go just enough to step back a little, to look into his eyes that were a color as cold as ice, but held so much warmth for you.

Your hands caressed his face, his found home on your hips, and in a flash, your lips collided.

And it was everything.

It was fireworks. The bloom of spring. The first summer rain. The taste of happiness.

The feeling of love.

All in a mouth so soft and sweet, and, at the same time, so urgent and needy.

Regulus’ mouth.

You wanted to melt, and maybe you did a little.

When your lips parted and your head tilted back a little, you were met with the most love-struck gaze you ever had the pleasure to witness.

A gaze you were sure matched with yours.

“Are you ok ?” he asked, running his eyes all over your face, and stepping back to check your body too.

“I'm fine, Reg, don't worry. Just some little scratches here and there” you reassured him, taking his hand into yours and slotting your fingers together “how about you ?”

“Me too, nothing to worry about” he said as he tightened the hold on your hand just the slightest bit.

‘I'm fine’ the gesture is meant to say ‘we are fine’.

And that was all you needed .

“I meant that” he suddenly spoke up, stopping in front of you.

Your eyebrow slightly furrowed in confusion.

Your hands were still laced together when your foreheads met with a gentle touch.

“When I told you that I love you. I mean that, I really do” his voice was barely a whisper, and it made you smile how vulnerable he sounded.

“I do, too. So much” you told him with the most sincere expression on your face.

He broke into a tiny smile.

You did, too.

And then you were kissing again.

And it got better every time.

“I can't believe it took you a near death experience to confess your love for each other” you heard Barty mumble from across the room.

“I suggest you shut up if you wanna keep your job, Crouch” Regulus warned him, but his voice lacked the bite completely.

Barty just rolled his eyes, as both you and your husband dived right back into a kiss.

“I need a raise” you heard Remus sigh, defeated, before everything tuned out.

Everything, except Regulus’ lips on yours.

[saintmurd0ck]

kiss and don't tell

masterlist

pairing: elektra natchios x f!reader + matt murdock and frank castle

summary: when frank and matt tap elektra's phone to figure out what she's up to, the last person they'd expect her to call is you

warnings: phone sex, matt and frank arguing like husbands, f!masturbation, elektra making everyone in her vicinity whimper, m!masturbation, exhibitionism

a/n: credits to my lovely @chvoswxtch for inspiration with elektra's phone background and @mikeymurdock for confirming darling matthew's birthday! this is my first time writing for elektra so be kind pls & HAPPY FUCKIN PRIDE !!!

“Thought you said she was always on that thing,” Frank grumbles, tapping on a flat-screen monitor displaying the layout of a phone lockscreen. He stares intently at the red supernova background, scrunitising on the halo of stars ringed around the edges of the phone. 

“She is,” Matt murmurs, furrowing his brows until they almost disappear beneath his glasses.

Frank sighs, leaning back in his chair, interlacing his hands behind his head. “It’s been four hours, Red. Why don’t ‘ya get some shut-eye, and I’ll stay up.” It wasn’t a question.

“Can’t be,” Matt breathes, mussing his hair. “It’s happening”–he pauses, fingers flitting over his watch–”tonight.” 

Disconcertion settles over Frank’s face as he wonders if this really is the way he’s spending his Friday night. His mouth quirks to the side. “First I’m gonna ask you how you know that, and second I wanna know exactly what we’re doing.”

“I know her, Frank. I just… know.”

“The fuck kinda answer’s that?” Frank glares, incredulous. “What, so you can listen to people breathing five blocks away, anticipate a bullet’s exact trajectory and now you can predict the future?”

Matt loosens his tie, looking more offended at the implication of being a fortune teller than at any other of Frank’s digs tonight. ”Of course not! S’just that… all of a sudden, she’s back in my life again. I wanna know what she’s doing, why she’s here, and what she has planned. You don’t know her like I do, Frank. Elektra isn’t good news.”

Frank yawns. “So? Ask her.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Hmm.” 

A muscle feathers in Matt’s jaw, the tension more palpable than ever, especially with the time ticking idly by. He adjusts the earbuds connected to the laptop in front of him, straining for a single sound, or any hint of activity, but he picks up on nothing. 

They’ve got all her communications tapped, thanks to Micro and his–as Foggy so aptly put it–technological wizardry, but this inactivity is well beyond her arrhythmic patterns. Matt glides his fingertips over her activity logs; every record of data painstakingly collated by Micro throughout the last two weeks. If there’s one thing about Elektra, it’s that Matt could count on her being out on a Friday night. 

Matt’s aware of Frank’s narrowing eyes, in similar concentration on the monitor ahead. “You think she’s really gonna leave us hangin’?”

“No, no, it’s just– she’s smart, okay? She’s smart, but I don’t think she knows. She’d make it obvious otherwise.”

“I dunno Red,” Frank shrugs, “Baitin’ your ex like this? That’s ballsy. Even for you.”

Matt’s head whips to the side at the mention of that word, ears pricking at the sudden dilation of Frank’s pupils, and the acceleration of his heartbeat. He’s readying himself for a fight. “I’m not giving you the satisfaction of a response, Frank.”

Frank tsks. “Ah, but ‘ya just did.”

Click.

It’s the unmistakable noise of Elektra’s phone being unlocked.

2-1-1-0-8-7

Matt straightens up in his chair, pushing his earbuds further in. “Frank!” he hisses. “Screen!” 

“Ain’t that your birthday? October 21?” Frank smirks.

Reddening, Matt pushes the grating thought aside. He’d discuss her passcode later, when time wasn’t of the essence. “Keep an eye on that screen–”

“She’s calling someone,” Frank interjects. He squints at the display. “Who’s… ‘Darling’?”

“Darling?” Matt stumbles over his words as the dial tone rings a little too loudly in his ears. “I-I don’t know.” 

There’s a hint of amusement in Frank’s voice. “She ever call you that?” 

But Matt’s response comes out quick. Too quick. “No!”

Frank’s mouth curves into a smile. “S’what I thought.”

Matt goes to retort, but the purpose of this mission embeds itself in his mind. “We have full access to her calls, her internet history, all her devices…If she’s planning anything, it’s gonna be tonight.”

“Can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but I trust ‘ya,” Frank nods. “We got her.”

“Alright. I’m taking these out.” Unceremoniously, Matt yanks the earbuds out of his ears, wincing as the dial tone plays over the loudspeakers wired to the entire setup. 

Frank cocks his ear towards the speaker in the corner, glancing at the call logs laid out on his lap. He counts softly to himself. “I’m seein’ this Darling a lot. At least twice a day.”

Before they can deliberate further, Elektra’s ambient voice fills the tiny space. “Hello, Darling.” She pauses, hinting a smile. “Ready for me?”

Frank arches an eyebrow. “The fuck?”

“What took you so long?”

Matt stands up so abruptly that his chair falls to the ground, dizzy with the clang of metal on concrete. “That’s–”

Out of all the people they’d unassumingly characterised as the mysterious Darling, they would never, not in a million years, expect to hear you. 

“Did you look at the package I had delivered to you?” Elektra purrs, honeyed in a way that prickles the hairs on the back of Matt’s neck. “I would’ve sent it myself, but duty calls.”

“Shit, Red,” Frank chuckles. “You’re in deep shit.”

“It’s beautiful,” you say, “and it fits perfectly. You know me so well, Ellie.”

“Ellie?!” Matt mouths. “What?”

“I knew it’d fit, Darling. Now be a good girl and spread those legs for me.”

In complete disregard of Matt choking on his own spit, Frank’s eyes fly open. “This part of your mission?”

“N-no. Definitely not. But–” Matt hesitates, swallowing dryly. “We need to keep listening. For all we know, our friend here could be a contact.”

“Fuckin’ perv.”

Feeling his temper rise, Matt takes a deep breath, willing his urge to fight dissipate. “S’there a way to turn the volume down?”

“Beats me,” Frank replies, nonchalant. “But small world, huh? Our friend–”Frank emphasises–“and your ex. A girl you’re into and a girl you used to be into.”

“I’m not into her.”

Frank snorts. “Yeah, you are.”

“Hmm,” Matt says, nodding, “so explain why your heart beats faster around her.”

There’s more than a hint of annoyance in Frank’s reply. “What?”

“I know you heard me correctly, Castle. You can’t hide shit from me.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Frank growls, kicking his chair away, sending the call logs scattering to the floor. 

“I’m so wet for you,” you gasp, unknowingly diffusing yet another fight, your breathy moans barely audible over the speakers. 

Frank stiffens, his fists unfurling from his sides. “Wait, wait, wait. Did I just–”

The tips of Matt’s ears go pink. 

“Mm,” Elektra muses. “I can still taste you, you know.”

“And how do I taste, Ellie?”

Elektra laughs, the sound crystalline. “Delicious.”

All of a sudden, it feels as if the labyrinthine, constricting nature of Micro’s lab seals off from the outside world, trapping both men and their paramours inside. 

“Please,” you whimper, every stuttered breath punctuating the words that come to mind. 

“Use your words, Darling. Please what?”

“Tell me how to touch myself.”

Frank shifts uncomfortably in his chair, wringing his hands as his eyes search for a distraction. “Feels like we’ve crossed a line, Red.”

“Since when have you ever cared about crossing lines?” Matt asks, scowling. “It’s pertinent. To…the mission.”

“Cut the shit. We’re not in Catholic school. You can just admit you’re horny.”

“Jesus, Frank! I’m not…”

“Of course,” Elektra hums, but the inflection in her voice indicates the kind of coyness that tells Matt she’s in complete control, physically present or not. 

Strained nostalgia sends him into overdrive, even more so as he contemplates just how she knows you. 

You, of all people, he knows, would be better off without someone like Elektra. 

Yet here you are. 

“Use one finger, Darling,” she continues, “and touch your clit for me. Up and down, just the way you like it.”

“Fuck,” you murmur, squirming as Elektra conducts your pleasure. “I want more.”

“Greedy, aren’t you? You’re lucky I feel generous tonight. Do you think you could handle two fingers?”

Matt exhales softly, licking his lips as he falters back to his seat. “Maybe you’re right.

“Yes,” you whisper. “Anything you ask for, Ellie. I can handle it.”

“Good girl. Let me hear how wet you are.”

Tipping his chin towards the ceiling, Matt reaches forward, fumbling for the cable connecting the speakers to their set up. “We’ll try again tomorr–”

“No,” Frank murmurs, holding his hand out reflexively.  He hesitates swatting Matt’s hand away from the wire, but he still follows through, however unconvincing the gesture seems to be. It’s true; his stance was different just moments ago, but he thinks about it carefully now. Maybe Matt’s right, and the outcome of the call will be more useful than not, but maybe, buried deep down amongst the feelings he harbours for you…

“Why?”

Saying nothing further, Frank turns his attention back to you, still conflicted about whether or not he should listen in.

Positioning the phone between your legs, you lean down to rub your clit, alternating between featherlight strokes and deep-pressure circles. As you begin to splinter with the thought of your impending orgasm, you dip two fingers into your pussy, hoping the mic picks up on the slickness pooling between your legs. 

Slowly, you stretch yourself out, picturing her there, watching you. Savouring you. “God, Ellie, it feels so–”

“Mm,” Elektra moans, pausing to praise you as she ruffles around her nightstand. “Can you guess what I’m doing?”

You slide a pillow under your hips, groaning as you rock against your fingers. “I’m picturing you and your legs spread, your red silk robe draped over the side of the bed, and you’re– fuck! Fuck, Ellie–”

“Cum for me, pretty girl.”

Crying out, you arch your back into your own touch, riding your hand until your body recovers just enough to go again. “I know you’re… you’re grabbing your favourite dildo, so you can fuck yourself while you fuck me.”

“Hm, has anyone told you how clever you are?” 

“You’re picturing it, aren’t you?” Matt asks, his face indiscernible. “The two of ‘em, together.”

Frank nods, pressing his lips together. “Yeah.”

“I guess we finally agree about something,” Matt says, chuckling.

“Yeah? And what’s that, exactly?”

“Do I really need to spell it out for you, Castle?”

Elektra huffs into the receiver, a faint buzzing emitting from her end of the call. “Put the phone down, Darling.”

“But–”

She continues, humoured and unfazed. “I can still hear you, don’t worry. I want you to use one finger on your clit, and hm… Three fingers in your pussy.” She poses her next words as a question. “Although, I know from the way you moaned my name that you added a third without asking?”

“Mm, Ellie–”

“I’ll let you off, just once.”

With every noise he picks up, Matt feels himself growing flustered. With all his tells laying out in the open–the flush in his cheeks, to his staggered breathing–he’s a dead giveaway. He pulls his tie over his head, unable to form a single coherent thought, the pretense of the mission long gone. Clearing his throat, Matt sits upright, draping his arm across his lap in an effort to conceal his growing erection. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but one of Elektra’s moans punctuates his focus, catching him off guard. 

Warmth singes Matt’s spine as he notices Frank’s gaze sliding to his lap.

“Shit, Red,” Frank murmurs, shaking his head, “I’m just… gonna leave you be. Okay? Call out when you’re… done.” He stands up promptly, stalking to the bedrolls in the other room.

“Wait–” Matt calls out, wanting to communicate that being left alone to act on his impulses is the last thing he needs…

But Frank makes a good point. Especially when he’s off to do the same thing.

“You know I can hear you jerking off, right?!” Matt yells. 

Frank’s retort bounces off the walls. “Mind your own damn business, Red!” 

“Whatever,” Matt mutters. Grateful for the privacy, he takes a moment to unbuckle his belt, tuning out the clinking of the metal in favour of the conversation overhead.

“Will you do me a favour, Ellie?” you gasp, pumping your fingers in and out of you with increasing speed.

“That depends on what you want.”

Desperation limns your voice, but you’re past the point of caring. “I want to hear you fuck yourself. Let me hear you cum.”

There’s a shuffle of fabric on the other end of the phone as Elektra makes a small noise of approval. 

Matt doesn’t need to be told that she’s moved in favour of a better position. 

Cowgirl was always her favourite.

He groans, still fully clothed, bucking into his hand as he concentrates on Elektra’s rhythmic breathing and hisses of pleasure. He palms himself, knowing she’s riding her dildo the same way she’d ride him, knowing just from the way she sounds that she’s getting close.

But she’s not the object of his attention tonight.

Not when you’re right there, unbelievably tangible yet barely within his grasp.

He wants you, affirming the thought as he pushes his underwear down; just enough to wrap his fist around his cock. He doesn’t have time to take it slow, so this will have to do.

In the other room, the noises you make echo in Frank’s mind, playing and replaying until he’s forced to hold onto the concrete wall to maintain any semblance of sanity. He squeezes his eyes shut as he fucks his hand, picturing you all stretched out, taking him until he has no more left to give.  

As if they both hadn’t just spilled into their hands, unable to shake the relief that gave way into yearning, they remember that there is still the matter of the mission at hand.

“I… I think they’re finishing up,” Matt rasps, rolling his chair up to the laptop on the main desk. 

Frank replies with a curt nod, taking his place on Matt’s left. 

“Better?” Elektra exhales, satisfaction now evident in her tone. 

“Always.”

“Same time tomorrow, Darling?” she asks, cheerful. 

“Why don’t I come over to yours, Ellie? We can leave the curtains open again, give New York a little show.”

Elektra clicks her tongue. “Ah, like the one we put on tonight?” 

Frank shoots a sideways glance at Matt. 

She continues, more resolute than before. “I think an in-person show might be better. Don’t you think so, boys?” 

“No goddamn way,” he mouths.

Elektra pouts. “You both came awfully fast, didn’t you?”

Frank was right; they’d listened far too long. To something far too personal. 

Matt swears, searching for a way to end the call. 

“You really think I wouldn’t find out? Amateurs.”

Frank sighs as the dial tone rings in their ears, clapping Matt on the back. “Well, I think our cover’s blown.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Nice knowin’ you, Red. Nice knowin’ you.”

tags {x} for everyone who interacted with the original post/people who might like this 💗 @v4leoftears @devils-dares @chvoswxtch @itwasthereaminuteago @castlesnchurches @reborn-rekall @qu1etwolf @marvelswh0re @munsonownsmyass @murdock-and-the-sea @fxlsealarm @hailey-murdock

[luddlestons]

Can I ask what you think bells hells sound like in bed? Like who’s loud, who’s quiet? Who likes dirty talk and who prefers to just moan?

-cracks knuckles- oh you ABSOLUTELY can ask.

I think a LOT about character voices, especially when I listen to them talk for so long, so this is giving me leeway to ramble for a loooong time.

Below a cut because NSFW, long, etc.

Ashton: Capable of being very quiet, because all of their teenage fooling-around happened in shared rooms. Obviously swearing constantly. I think he's more likely to cut off in the middle of a sentence and gasp or straight up growl than he is to moan. The dirty talk is 70% the word 'fuck'. Sounds dangerously similar to how they sound when they get their ass kicked. Which is hot af. Like ragged and low and out of breath. And, uh. Whatever they were doing when Orym gave them a massage. That exactly.

Braius: We don't know him that well yet so I'm not sure? I think he'd be fairly loud and exuberant, with a lot of praise for his partner. Lots of talking, not concerned with whoever tf might hear him. He's a slippery one, voice-wise, it's hard to place him.

Chet: .......guys I don't know if I wanna picture all the weird old gnome noises. I think probably it's half weird old gnome noises and half werewolf howling. Probably very bad at dirty talk but in a charming way. He's silly with it, and silly sex is important! I do also like the idea of him dropping into the werewolf voice too <3 werewolf transformation during sex is also important. He is talking JUST as loud as he always does. That man cannot whisper.

Dorian: Obviously his voice is beautiful, and I imagine that if you do things right, you can get him up into that really high-pitched voice he does sometimes, usually actually when he's nervous. Dorian's such a proper lad so he doesn't swear very much (it's hard to write from his pov bc I don't think he even swears much in his own head) but I think you can get him rambling if you try. It's not that dirty, per se? But if he's very plain about what he's feeling it can be unintentionally filthy. The air genasi unending breath thing is of course something I use a lot in fics, and I like to think of it as an emotional response, like a gasp that doesn't end, but you can't vocalize much unless you're breathing in or out, so he's quiet when he does that. And he's a romantic! Very likely to just say "I love you" when he comes.

FCG: you might've thought I wasn't putting FCG on this list but THINK AGAIN, I want them and Frida to have at least one night of robot passion! Now. Do I think robot sex noises sound like dial-up? Yeah. Yeah I do. Actually, Letters probably sounds like dial-up, Frida probably sounds like..... like the haptic noises on the PS4 home screen. Listen I know that's a weird pull but that's the closest thing I've got. I think there would be a lot of talking and communication, probably a lot more of that than there is of sex. However robot sex happens. I've read some fanfiction for them and it's cute!

Fearne: oh fearnie <3 she probably sounds SO beautiful, her voice is already so breathy and sweet! I think (and often write) that the tone of sickeningly sweet condescension she pulls on people sometimes, especially when she's laying it on thick while lying to someone, comes out when she's domming. Generally more soft and gentle with her voice but she can get loud too, especially if she's trying to be noisy on purpose. Moans a TON and sounds good doing it. She can get a little theatrical if she knows her partner's into it, not in a way where she's faking it, but letting herself put more oomph into it than she needs to.

Imogen: I can see her doing a lot more low, gentle talking that gets interrupted by little gasps. Definitely the type who puts her hands over her face when she gets too overwhelmed, so she muffles herself a little bit. Not very loud, but tends to get kind of startled into making noises. It would also be cute as hell if she goes completely quiet sometimes but just sends out a BARRAGE of horny emotions telepathically.

Laudna: Very loud and has no idea she's doing it. Will say Imogen's name 30 times in one minute. I feel like she rotates between soft, whispery sort of talking and extremely loud crying out. Her higher register when she talks tends to be very loud and clear (think how she calls out a name when she's sending a Message to someone) so you can hear her anywhere in the building.

Orym: Somewhat similar to how I picture Imogen, I think Orym is big into praising his partner in that kind of low, gentle voice he has when he's explaining something (the scene I'm picturing is when he's describing his and Will's family as they're coming into Zephrah). Unexpectedly filthy, though (Orym is pretty good at keeping it professional but does swear in a way that sounds natural and probably dirty talks like that, too). Very calmly tells his partner exactly what he wants to do to them--let's not forget that Orym makes a LOT of sex jokes, like only slightly less than Fearne and Chet. If he bottoms he's probably less verbal, but still kind of quiet, little moans and gasps separated by half-sentences.

[makethatelevenrings]

Angel By the Wings - TWENTY

Chapter Warnings: discussion of abortion, small mention of domestic violence, pregnancy

Series Masterlist AND Mobile Masterlist

Bradley pressed the name in his contacts and waited for the phone to dial before he let himself think and further. His feet carried him a mile away from Hangman’s house to some 24-hour diner where the waitress called him baby and he could order a stack of pancakes larger than Jake’s ego.

Pregnant. Fuck. It could easily be his kid. Four weeks ago, he was pulling delicious noises from you as he fucked you like it was his goddamn job. And then when you said the words, it felt like ice water had been poured over his head. 

Because he had just gotten back from a mission where he nearly died and all he could think about was the fact that he could have easily left his kid behind like his dad did. He didn’t remember much of his dad, just bits and pieces that he learned mostly through absorbing it from other people, namely his mom and Maverick. But he was keenly aware of the grief that consumed his mom. She might have died from cancer, but he still believed a broken heart played a role in that.

He couldn’t do that to you. He wouldn’t. He saw what losing his dad did to his mom. He wouldn’t let that happen to you or Jake.

But it could be your kid, that traitorous voice in the back of his mind whispered. Do you really want to give up that opportunity? To be a dad? To be in a kid’s life? To impact them the way you were impacted, even if it had just been the legacy Goose left behind?

“Hello?” Maverick sounded confused when he answered Bradley’s call. They had seen each other only two hours earlier and now Bradley was calling him out of the blue.

“How did my dad react when he found out my mom was pregnant?” He figured he didn’t really have time for pleasantries when it felt like the walls were shrinking around him.

“I…well, he was excited. I think he was honestly more excited than your mother. Carole told him over the phone because we were deployed on a carrier for three months and he damn near hit the roof.” A soft laugh escaped Maverick. “He spent the next few months constantly talking to any parent on the boat asking for advice. And the moment he saw her at the baggage claim, he just started crying. I’d never seen him cry so much.”

Bradley looked out the window and saw his reflection stare back at him, a smile lifted on his face. His mom always spoke of Goose as though he hung the moon, but it was different hearing about their love from an outsider perspective.

“And did he ever…was he ever scared?”

“Oh, he was scared shitless. Carole told me he fainted during labor and I swear he had, like, six parenting books at all times.”

“But was he ever scared about…leaving me?”

Something rustled on the other end of the line before Maverick finally replied, his voice quiet. “What’s this about, kid?”

How do you explain to the guy who basically raised you after your dad died that you might have knocked up a girl and the other potential father was Hangman?

“Just curious,” he replied.

“Bradley.” Yeah, he knew that tone. That was Mav’s “you can’t out bullshit the bullshitter” tone. Bradley ran his hand over his face and then rested his forehead on his palm, eyes squeezed shut. The encompassing scent of black coffee curled around his shoulders and he was grateful for Doris’ continued refills.

“She’s four weeks pregnant, Mav, and the kid could be mine and the minute I found out, I just…”

“Ran,” Maverick sighed. “Because you thought about your mom. And you got scared.”

Damnit. Years of not speaking and he still had Bradley figured out in seconds. Bradley shouldn’t have called. He just dumped this on the man he was yelling at a week ago and nearly died with three days prior.

“Goose never regretted having you. The opposite, actually. He told me that he was grateful Carole had you around because he saw that she was an amazing mother. Of course, he wanted more time with you, but I can say for certain that he never, ever regretted having you.”

Bradley hated the sudden burn of tears that pressed against the back of his eyes and he focused his attention outside again where dark, heavy clouds were rolling in on the horizon. Huh, maybe a storm was coming in.

“Bradley,” Maverick got his attention again. “Any kid would be lucky to have you as a dad. You can’t let the past keep holding you back from your future. You’ll never give yourself a chance to live.”

“But what if I die and leave this kid and her behind?”

“And what if you don’t? Are you really just going to up and leave this kid? The mom? Carole Bradshaw didn’t raise you to be like this.”

That sent a shockwave of realization across his spine. Holy shit. His mom would kill him if she could see him right now. His mom who sacrificed so much and tried to keep a smile on her face even when she was in her deepest pits of grief. His mom who would have absolutely adored you and would have teased Jake endlessly.

“Thanks, Mav. I gotta go.”

“Hey, listen. You should come by my place sometime soon. We still need to have that talk, I recall. Bring your girl along, I’d love to meet her.”

Bradley grinned. “Yeah, that would be great.”

He hung up and tossed a twenty onto the table before he jogged out into the humid air outside. Shit, yeah, it really was about to storm. Even with busted ribs and his body feeling like it got hit by a freight train, he could probably outrun the storm.

Probably.

San Diego rarely got thunderstorms, but it was fitting that the silence in Jake’s apartment was shattered with a low rumble of thunder off in the distance. The sun was obscured by the thick clouds that swallowed the sky and you pushed off the bed you were curled up on. Hopefully, Jake would be in his room or napping on the couch or not paying attention to the fact that you were creeping out to stand on the porch and watch the storm roll in.

The moment you settled yourself on his cement porch, a blanket draped over your shoulders and you sighed. Of course he heard you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured once he sat next to you. Jake pulled the other edge of the blanket around his own shoulder, sealing the heat between the two of you. Lightning flashed across the sky and you tensed minutely, relaxing when you remembered the warm, steady form next to you.

“There’s no excuse for what I said, I was angry and I took it out on you and I’m sorry,” you added. He still said nothing and you took that as a moment to glance over at him. He was studying the clouds with the same cool indifference he looked at the pool table at the Hard Deck. You were about to beg him to say something when he began to speak.

“After my mom had Liz, she realized she couldn’t keep having kids if she wanted to run from my dad sooner than later. When she got pregnant again, she was able to make an appointment at the local clinic. She was only gone a few hours while the neighbor watched us, but when she came back, she seemed…I don’t know. She was sad but also there was this weight off of her shoulders. She had the chance to protect herself and protect us and save any future kid from that bastard.”

He spoke about his father with such venom that you had to reach out and cup his cheek, your thumb brushing along his hairline. Jake inhaled against your touch and then turned to face you, his bright eyes clouded by memories.

“Whatever you choose, I’ll be there. I’ll drive you to the clinic and take care of you afterwards. If you keep this kid, I’m all in. I never considered being a father before and I’m scared out of my fucking mind, but I swear to you that I would never, ever treat you or them like my father did.”

“Oh, Jake,” your voice broke at his promise. “I know you would never hurt me. I don’t think you’re even capable of hurting a fly. You’re all bark and no bite, Tex.” You bumped your shoulder against his and he leaned into you, his lips coming up to press against your temple.

“I’m terrified, but there’s this part of me that keeps saying what if? What if I keep it? What if I give this kid the best damn life? What if I have the life I always wanted but never thought I could have?”

“Whatever you need, you’ll have. Money, clothes, a house, furniture, I’ll handle it. If you want me around, I’ll be there. If you want me gone, I’ll disappear.”

You pressed your forehead against his shoulder and smiled against the growing tears in your eyes. Rain was starting to patter down onto the ground, filling the air with the rich smell of soil.

But above the noise of the rain came another pounding.

You raised your head just in time to see Rooster jog around the side of Hangman’s truck and stop directly in front of you two in the pouring rain. Jake sat ramrod straight, his gaze darting all over Bradley as the brunet bent over to catch his breath.

“Jesus, Bradshaw, you have cracked ribs and you ran?” Jake exclaimed.

“You have what?!” you yelped. Bradley waved both of your concerns off and then straightened up.

“My dad died when I was two,” he rushed out. “And it wrecked my mother. And I can’t let that happen to you, but Mav basically told me I’m being an idiot and he’s right. I can’t let the past continue to make my decisions. I can’t let that fear hold me back.”

You stared at him, wide eyed, as you took in his words. You pushed the blanket off of your shoulders and stood. The cool rain poured down on your head, but you didn’t care. You needed to hear this straight.

“And if the baby isn’t yours?” you directed the question to both of them. “I can’t get a paternity test for five more weeks.”

“Fuck the what ifs! If anyone has questions or judgment, they can fuck off,” Bradley shouted. He raised his arms from his sides and extended them out, welcoming the incoming storm. Jake stood as well, a wild grin on his lips that made you breathless.

“I agree with the chicken for once, darlin’. Fuck ‘em. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out when we get there.”

You could feel your own smile blossom and you glanced between the two men. “So if I told you right now that I wanted to keep this baby, you would be okay with that?”

Bradley swooped in, his chilled hands enclosing around your cheeks as he laid a kiss on your lips before retracting so he could do the same to Jake. Your heart was beating quickly, not from anxiety but from exhilaration. Holy shit, the three of you were doing this.

You grabbed one of each man’s arms and tugged them further down the driveway. The rain soaked you to the bone, but you didn’t care. You threw your hands up in the air and let out a burst of laughter. Jake wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around. The three of you were like little kids. You jumped into puddles, danced in the rain, and laughed harder than you had in days.

“Alright,” Jake surprisingly was the one who ended the fun. “Back inside you two. Can’t have our angel catching a cold and you need to rest, Roo.”

You rolled your eyes but acquiesced. Of course they were going to become incredibly protective. Jake wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you headed back into the apartment.

“Miss,” Bradley said with an air of elegance. He bowed as you stepped across the threshold and you snorted at his theatrics. 

“Thank you, sir.” You curtsied and accepted the towel he offered you.

“You should take a shower, angel. To warm up,” Jake said as he shut the door behind him and locked it. You considered his words for a second and took a step backwards into the apartment. Your soaking wet shirt was plastered to your skin but you tugged it off and chucked it in the direction of the laundry room.

“I’d hate for you boys to miss out on all the warm water,” you taunted. You spun on your heel and dashed off towards the bathroom with two pairs of footsteps following close behind.

As the warm water trickled down on their heads, you found yourself shielded from the brunt of the spray as the men sandwiched you between them. Jake stood at your back, his left hand splayed across your torso and his lips pressed under your ear. Bradley delicately slid the loofah across your skin, watching in awe as the suds traveled across your skin and disappeared in the water. You gently slid your fingers through Bradley’s curls and let your nails scratch across his scalp, eliciting a delicious moan from him.

You helped the soap wash out of Bradley’s hair before you grabbed his hand just as he swiped the rough fabric against your thigh. You grasped his left hand and Jake’s right, settling them both over the slight rounding of your stomach.

“That’s her?” Bradley whispered.

“How do you know it’s a she?” Jake hummed. He stroked his hand down the tiny curve of your barely-there bump. “It could be a he.”

“Angel isn’t that cursed. Three of us?” Bradley shot back. You chuckled and rested your head back on Jake’s shoulder.

“As small as a poppy seed,” you murmured. Fuck, how on earth could you care for something so small? How could you protect this little thing from the world? What about when it came out of you?

“Don’t you worry, baby,” Jake whispered into your hair. He sensed your trepidation and instantly set about soothing away your worries. “Roo and I would never let anything happen to you two.”

The brunet’s handsome face earned a fierce glare and he nodded, head jerking sharply before he moved in closer. “Promise.”

A million questions swirled around in your head and you were plagued with even more worries. But here, in this moment, supported by these two men, you felt safer than you had ever felt before.

Tag List: @mizzzpink​ @xoxabs88xox​ @dreaminglandsworld​ @khaylin27​ @loveforaugust​ @phoenixssugarbaby​ @atarmychick007​ @mak-32​ @itsmytimetoodream​ @krismdavis​ @emma8895eb​ @startrekfangirl​ @hangmandruigandmav​ @lunamoonbby​ @startrekfangirl2233​

[myocsfanfictions]

South Side Story

Shameless Fanfiction Season 1

Desna Hills has come living in the Southside of Chicago four years before. Taken in by Kev and V, Desna is close friends with the Gallaghers. Let's see how this Southside story unfolds.

MASTERLIST

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Chapter 4

“What the fuck happened?” Fiona exclaimed as they entered in the Gallagher’s home. Ian went to lock the door as Lip fell on the ground coursing as he held his right foot.

“Shit, Lip!” Desna exclaimed kneeling next to him.

“Oh! It fucking hurts!” He said as she put herself behind his so that he could lean on her, as Fiona kneeled next to him.

“Lip are you alright?” She asked as Lip rested the back of his head on Desna shoulder shaking his head.

“No!” He exclaimed, soon Carl and Debbie hearing the noises ran down.

“What happened?” Debbie asked.

“I don’t fucking know,” Fiona said gripping Lip’s foot, making him cry out in pain.

“Shit, Fiona!”

“Jeez!” She said raising her hands as Desna folded in her pocked to take her phone.

“I’mma calling V,” she decided and she saw Fiona nod her head.

“Thanks,” then she looked over Ian, “Help me bring him up.”

Desna got up as Ian helped Lip on his feet, who as he saw her going toward the door asked “Where are you going?”

“Ho upstairs,” she exclaimed, “I’ll be right there” then she opened the door as she dialed V’s number. She really hoped that Lip’s foot was not broken. He threw himself out of a fucking house.

“Come on, pick it up, pick it up,” she muttered as the phone rang, then finally she heard V’s voice.

“Hey, babe, what’s up?”

“Could you happen to be free?” Desna asked nervously as she looked up the front of the Gallagher house, to stop her gaze where the boys room was.

“Yeah I can make it in five? What’s wrong?”

“Lip hurt his foot,” Desna said biting her lips, she could not tell how, they didn’t talked about a how!

“Can you make it here in four?” She asked hearing a shocked V telling a yes, but before she could ask anything Desna cut off the call.

“Thank you,” she said “I love you!”

Then she rushed inside the house, to run in the boys room. Lip was laying on Carl’s bed, where Fiona was taking a look at her foot. From behind her sitting on the chair of the desk there was Carl, while Debbie was sitting on the buck bad and Ian was explaining a story sitting on his own bed.

“Really?” Fiona asked pissed off, clearing not believing Ian’s story, “An old lady from the train?”

Desna gave a look at Ian as he tried to explain “Yeah, yeah,” he said “The um… the doors were closing on her walker and Lip barely got his foot in time to stop them from-"

"Ow! Jeasus Fiona!" Lip thankfully shouted looking at his sister in diesbelif. Desna moved to stand next to Carl, observing the older Gallagher as she took another look at her brother's foot.

"I can't remember whatever that's good or bad," Fiona said with a frown, then she took a deep breath before glaring at her brothers, "More likely, you two jumped the turnstiles again and he twisted it trying to outrun the transit cops," she said pointing at Lip. That would have made much more sense, actually.

"And you? Des?" Fiona's question made her eyes widen, unable to forn words. She knew they were lieing. What could she say?

"I-"

"We meet her outside," Lip said with a graunt as Ian nodded his head.

"It's true, she saw us running and freaked out," Ian explained, "She paniced as well."

Fiona nodded her head looking in Desna's direction, "At least they didn't drag you in their troubles."

"No, of course not," Lip said with pain in his voice.

"Stop talking" Desna said moving to kneel next to him, just before V opened the door, and as she looked at the scene she took a defeated breath "No, no!" She said, "Always elevate extremities! Move before you give him a fucking embolism!' V's words made Lip and Desna exchange a dread look, as she made Fiona stand up to take her place. She took a pillow changing her voice to a sweet tone, "You okay Lip? Sweetheart?" She asked putting the pillow under his foot.

"Yeah," he said clearly feeling pain, "Just don't... don't touch it," he pleaded as V sit to take a look.

"Wiggle your toes," she asked, but as soon as he tried he groaned moving his hand to take Desna's, who immediately hold it with both hers.

"Des!" V called, "Go home, top of the freezer, two ice packs."

Desna looked at Lip, still holding her hand, "I..." she muttered, when Ian stood up.

"I go!" Desna looked towards the boy giving him a smile, which he reciprocated before V started to give him orders to what he had to take.

"Thanks," Lip whispered, making her turn to look at him affectionately.

"Shouldn't we get it X-rayed?" Fiona asked to V who looked at her as if she was crazy.

"Fuck no. He'll be in the E.R. forever, and for what?" Then V tried to imitate a doctor, "'Submetatarsal hematoma' Thanks. Tell us something we didn't know five hours ago. Fuck off."

"That doesn't sound too good," Lip said, making Desna smile at him.

"I'm sure is nothing serious," she tried to reassured him as V told Ian a few more things to bring her. But suddenly a knock on the door, make the boys panic.

Lip hid himself under the cover, while Ian ran back hiding under the desk screaming "You don't know us, Fiona!"

Everyone looked at them with wide eyes as Desna closed her eyes shaking her head. At that point Fiona knew that was that something was going on.

"What. Have. You. Done?! What have you done?!" She exclaimed as she ran down the stairs followed by Carl.

"Calm the fuck down," Desna said with gritted teeth, "Ian get out from the desk, he will find you anyway."

"Who will find them?" V asked glaring at Desna, whose eyes went wide.

"Who...ever is looking for these two," she said as a nervous chuckle came out of her mouth, a chuckle that only made V glare at her more.

Luckly it was not Mr. Jackson, so Ian could go take what V needed to take care of Lip's foot.

"You good?" V asked him who nodded his head muttering a 'Thank you'

"Alright," she said, "Desna, can you help me get him down?"

"Sure," the girl answered getting up, reaching a hand to Lip to help him do the same. He flinced when he put his foot down, and Desna was quickly there to put an arm behind his back and the other on his chest.

"You okay?" She asked as they looked at each other for a moment. Lip observed her before smiling nodding his head.

"Try not put your weight on it too much," from her tone Desna knew she had noticed something, so she desided not to look at V as she helped Lip down the stairs.

"Ice and Advil" V repeated as they made their way in the kitchen, "And, again, take your weight off of it," then all of their gazes when to the new washing machine that was being installed.

"I thought you were broke!" V said, as Desna helped Lip to sit down on the stairs.

"You good?" She asked again sitting next to him, who looked at her eyes, smiling.

"I'm good," he said, "Thanks," Desna smiled as well, looking down, "Don't metion it." She could still feel his eyes on her, before he muttered "Look at that.."

Fiona was showing V a bouquet of red roses.

"Who Steve?" She heard V ask at Fiona who had a giant smile across her face.

"The other night," she said and V's eyes grew in realization.

"No!" She exclaimed to which Fiona answered with a happy nod.

"Oh shit," Desna said with a giggle, "He is really trying to win her over," She felt Lip move closer to her, which made her turn curiously towards him.

"Can it work?" he asked searching for her eyes, which she locke with his.

"Well, it depens," she shrugged her shoulders, "How much was the washing machine needed?" Lip chuckled, scratching his nose.

"Umm... yeah," he said nodding his head, "Very needed," Desna let out a laugh as the two kept looking at each other. Lip was acting strange lately, but in a good way, she liked it. She liked him.

"Des," V's voice made her turn, noticing that the woman was observing her and Lip, "Come on, let's go home."

Desna nodded before turning to Lip for a moment whispering a 'Bye' and then following Veronica out of the door.

They didn't have to walk long, but V was strangely quiet as they made their way towards their home. And Desna was feeling every second of that silence.

"What a day, uh?" Desna spoke, trying to be as natural as possible. She noticed V nodding her head in silence, watching at anything but Desna's way, before speaking.

"There's something between you and Lip?" her question made Desna stop on her track.

"What?" the girl asked in a whisper. Veronica turned to look at her with studying eyes.

"You went out early today," she said stepping towards Desna, who frowned.

"What are you spying on me right now?"

"We are quite defensive," V answered putting her hands on her hips, "Should I spy on you, right now?" Desna's eyes grew wide.

"Why should you?" the girl asked.

"Because you are too young to have sex," V exclaimed, making Desna crossed her arms.

"My god," she said keep walking towards their porch, "I can't believe we are having this conversation."

"Me neither," V said following her, "I wanted to talk about what we are going to eat or watch tonight."

"Then ask that," Desna argued as she took her keys to open the door.

"I would have gladely," V answered strongly, "But now that I saw you two I can't stop thinking about it."

"Me having sex?" Desna exclaimed, as the door opened by Kev, who was wearing only his pans.

"Who's having sex?" Kev asked with wide eyes.

"Probably you," Desna said heading towards the stairs, "I might be too young to have sex but I can hear it alright. Like every morning, and evening and everytime you meet in this house," she said before running into her room, closing the door.

"That's not why we are worried, and you know it!" she could hear V say, but Desna locked her door.

God, that was so humiliating. She was old enough to do everything that she wanted. She was being careful, they both had been. She really didn't want to talk about something that private with Kev and V. Not after they came to know what happened. She simply couldn't.

***********

Tag list: @th3h0nkz @aunicornmademedoit

[mlmdarkfiction]

Hi, number one fan here😩. Can I please request an absolutely fucked up Billy Loomis fic for my birthday. Go crazy with it and surprise me with the contents

Here you go! I hope you like it! I originally planned to have a mini ghost face attack happen but I couldn't make it work in a way I liked and I felt bad that I kept you waiting so long! I do think billy would mansplain manipulate his way into getting what he wanted.

“What do you mean I can’t come over?” 

You hold in the urge to roll your eyes, not that Billy would be able to see it through the phone anyway. 

“I meant exactly what I said. There’s a killer on the loose, and a curfew. My party’s canceled.” The bitterness in your tone is clear, it’s not like you wanted to cancel your Birthday Party, but you’ve seen horror movies. 

Having a party when there’s a killer on the loose like this is just asking to become a victim, especially since it’s your birthday. 

You can practically see the movie they’d make about it, Birthday Massacre.

“Well how about I come over, bring popcorn, and a movie. I can rent the exorcist-” 

“Nope. No way.” You’re quick to cut off your boyfriend. “I don’t plan on dying tonight, sorry.” 

You hear the way he huffs indignantly on the other side of the phone, and it only makes you feel a little guilty. 

“Anyone can be a killer and anyone can be a victim.”

There’s a pause. 

“You really think I’m the killer?” 

“Well no,” You answer honestly, “But that doesn’t mean one of us couldn’t be a target, especially if we’re together.” 

Billy sighs on the other end of the line, and you know you’ve won. 

“Alright, fine.”

“Fine,” You repeat back, unbothered by his newfound attitude. “I love you.”

He doesn’t say it back, just hanging up the phone and you have to pout. 

“What a bitch.” You sigh. 

Banter aside, you hope Billy isn’t actually angry at you, that would be shitty, after all it is your birthday. 

Your birthday that you’re spending alone because the police have called a curfew and there’s a killer on the loose. 

Cake. You might as well eat your cake if you’re going to be alone, make some popcorn, and watch a scary movie like Billy had wanted. 

It’s about twenty minutes into a movie with cake and popcorn when your phone rings. 

You pause the movie as you answer, assuming it’s Billy calling to apologize, “Hello?” 

“Hello ____.” 

You blink. The voice on the other end isn’t anyone you recognize. 

“Who is this?” 

“That’s the question isn’t it.” Once again you hold the urge to roll your eyes. 

“This isn’t funny.” 

“All alone on your birthday. Isn’t that sad?”

“Shut up.” It’s not a witty response, but it’s all you’ve got. 

A loud sudden bang has you jumping, barely keeping in a scream. 

Something slammed against your front door. 

You don’t have to wonder what it was as very quickly the voice on the other end confirms, “Did I scare you?”

“Billy, is this you? It’s not fucking funny.”

“Billy? Who’s Billy? That your boyfriend?” 

You feel a chill run down your spine. This whole thing is too creepy now. You hang up the phone quickly and dial Billy.

Sure you told him not to come, but now you don’t want to be alone. 

It rings only twice, before Billy picks up. 

“Hey-” You don’t let him get the words out. 

“I changed my mind. Can you come over?”

He makes a noise of confusion on the other line, before “Yeah of course.” You can practically hear the smile in his voice. 

“I’ll be right over.”

[say-hwaet]

Here’s the next chapter for my au fanfiction:

HIGH SIERRA: A RED DEAD REDEMPTION STORY

Chapter Two: Into the Woods

On his way to work, Arthur thumbs through his contacts on his phone. Soon, he hears the dial tone and a short pause.

"Hi, son."

"Hi, Dad."

"Bessie! It's Arthur!"

Arthur hears a background noise and a soft voice that has always comforted him ever since they adopted him as a teen. "It's Arthur? Hi, sweetheart!"

Hosea’s voice softens as he talks to his wife on the other side. "I'm going to put him on speaker."

BING

Then Arthur hears his mother correct her husband. "No, Hosea, you're doing it wrong."

BING

"It looks like a microphone, Dad," Arthur interjects, hoping they can hear him.

"Oh, wait, I think I got it."

There is a scratching sound. And another pause before Hosea speaks again. "There. Arthur, can you hear me?"

"Yeah, I can hear you," he chuckles.

"Ah. Good. So how are you, son?"

"Fine. Just thought I'd update you both on Isaac."

"Oh, that poor baby. How is that boy?" Bessie's voice grows louder, Arthur pictures her leaning close to the phone and almost laughs.

"As of now, they say he's stable and that the worst part is over. He's even been back to school."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Bessie praises. "I was hoping he could finish the school year out. It being second grade and all."

Arthur smiles softly, nodding his head. "I'm glad, too. He seems to be doing fine."

"How's Eliza?"

Arthur swallows, not sure if he was ready to talk about it. Hosea was also at the party but didn't see what had happened. He didn't know why Eliza stormed off and left Arthur behind that night. Bessie stayed at home and watched her grandbaby, so she wasn't aware, either. "She's alright."

Hosea’s voice comes confidently through the phone. "Still mad at you, huh?"

"How'd you figure?"

"Well, put two and two together, and an old man with experience can figure things out."

Arthur was hoping that it wouldn’t be so obvious, but he knows there’s no point in trying to convince his father otherwise. He’s too smart for that. "Sure.”

"So, are you gonna tell us what actually happened?"

"It isn't good."

"I doubt that."

Arthur becomes expressive as he drives, flitting his fingers on the steering wheel after making a turn. "You haven't heard what it is yet, but I don't know if I should say it over the phone."

"What is it, honey?" Bessie pleads.

They remain silent. It seems that he won't be able to talk his way out of this one. The tall redwoods guard both sides of the road and the solitude in his vehicle helps him to feel freer to talk about the topic of Eliza.

"Eliza saw Mary kissing me."

"Oh gosh. Your ex-girlfriend?" Hosea asks.

"Yeah."

"Oh, Arthur, why did you go on and do that?" Bessie wis not happy to hear it but sounds more sad than angry. Truth be told, she really likes Eliza, and she vividly remembers that day when Arthur came over, so young, sad, and upset when Mary told him she would never marry him. All those plans shattered.

So when Eliza came into the picture, and after seeing her grand baby for the first time at the hospital, she was rooting for them to be a family. But of course, she kept most of this to herself. Mary was a nice girl, all things considered, but she was not a perfect match for her son.

Arthur grimaces, but not from the sunlight as it flashes in his eyes. He lowers the visor and blinks. "I didn't kiss her back, but it didn't look good. I...I didn't stop her."

"Do you wish you had?"

"Yes, Dad, but I don't know how I feel about all this. I'm confused."

Hosea clicks his tongue. "Well, you need to figure out what it is that you want."

"That's what Eliza said."

"Smart girl." It was clear who Hosea preferred. "Take some time away from both of them and see who you miss. Think about who really matters."

"I can't just not spend time with Isaac."

"No, of course not, so just...pick him up."

Arthur sighs, that is an option. "Okay."

"It'll be alright, honey," Bessie's comforting tone makes Arthur smile. "It's better to be honest with yourself."

"You're right."

Arthur makes a final turn on a road and approaches the employee side of the district office. Showing his badge to an officer at security, he is waved on through. "Look, I gotta go. I am at the office."

"Alright, son. The next time you have Isaac, bring him on by, would you?"

"I sure will. Eliza wanted me to tell you both hello, by the way."

"I knew I liked her."

Arthur grits his teeth. "Not helping, Dad."

"Sorry. Bye, son."

"Bye, Dad. Bye, Mom."

"Love you!" she sings and he hangs up.

He parks in his reserved spot at the Department of Fish and Wildlife, which he and the other wardens claim as their base. He looks at the time, and sees he is only five minutes late, and is sure that his superiors will forgive him.

He steps out of the vehicle and locks it, then makes his way inside.

He is greeted by the summer student at the front desk, Mary-Beth, who just recently came back to help their clerk for the summer. “Hiya, Arthur!"

"Well, Mary-Beth, it's about time you came back!" Arthur stops on his way in and leans on the counter. He rests his right arm on its surface and tucks his left hand in his pocket.

Mary Beth chuckles playfully. "And you're lucky I did. I have a lot of planning to do."

"And why's that?"

She beams, holding out her hand. On her ring finger, is a simple silver band with a solitary diamond.

Arthur’s mouth goes agape and he looks closely at the ring with a happy interest. "Why, congratulations!"

She brings back her hand to tuck hair behind her ear bashfully. "When I graduate next year, we will be going to Ireland for our honeymoon, that is where my fiancé is from. Well, kinda."

"Okay, so who is the lucky feller?"

"His name is Kieran Duffy. We met in my first year in college."

"Is he going into journalism too, then?"

She shakes her head and goes to a stack of papers to go through. "Oh no. He actually works as a groundskeeper. He has quite a career at keeping the university clean and beautiful, inside and out. Plus, he works with troubled kids over the summer and teaches them fishing, so I will get to see him when I help at the park sometimes. He rather enjoys it."

Arthur steps away from the counter, his eyes softening. He’s glad that at least someone is having a successful relationship. It seems that he always finds a way to mess his up. "Well, I am happy for you."

"Thanks, Arthur."

He waves as he walks on, heading into the conference room where there is usually a morning briefing and assignments.

Other than the tension in his personal life, everything else has been going well. Having been a game warden for almost ten years, he has worked hard and diligently up the ranks. Reaching the level of Corporal, he hopes to be able to work with the Special Operations Unit, if he can only prove himself.

Though he does not worry about being late this time, he knows he doesn't want to risk it again, lest the captain finds him unloyal and uncommitted to the tasks that the SOU would require of him.

He sees that the meeting has not started yet, and sighs a breath of relief. He finds a seat next to his friend Charles, who has only been with the department for a few months. He’s young, built like a bison, and speaks with a calm and thoughtful air. He has been helping Arthur implement a full-fledged K-9 program in the department, and Charles has shown great promise in his field. And above all, Arthur trusts him, which speaks volumes.

"Hey, Charles."

Charles nods, his voice soft and calm. "Morning, Arthur.”

Arthur pulls out the chair next to his companion and takes a quick look around. “Captain Monroe here, yet?"

Charles shakes his head, smiling. "Nope. You're lucky."

"Am I?" Arthur laughs as he sits down. He lurches forward and the chair makes a warbled screech on the tiled floor.

Charles returns to face forward and rests his arms on the table in front of him. "I wouldn't want to get on his bad side."

"Sure, If he has one,” Arthur snorts.

"The nice ones usually do, when you least expect it."

Arthur can see his point, but decides to humor him. "I'll take your word for it." As their conversation settles, he looks over on Charles's left and sees Copper, his Chesapeake Bay Retriever, lying down. He pats Charles’s shoulder, and gestures to the canine. "Hey, thanks for taking him home for a few days."

Charles nods. "No problem, Arthur. If he and I are going to be working together, we might as well get used to one another, right?"

"Sure." Arthur was grateful to Charles for taking him for a few days. Even though Copper belonged to Arthur, ever since he was a pup, he needed to be able to not worry about him while he figured things out. Charles could see it anyway, the change in Arthur's demeanor, without even knowing about the incident at the party, but didn't think it was his place to ask. So, when Arthur suggested Charles take Copper for a couple of days, he gladly agreed. "Since we have this K-9 unit starting up, you will be getting a dog soon, I think."

"I was wondering about that. I overheard Captain Monroe asking someone about it yesterday."

"Well, good."

Before anything else could be said, Captain Monroe enters the room.

"Good morning," he formally greets. All in attendance make sure to rise in respect. He waves them down and they sit. "Just to make you all aware, although some of you may already be, school ends in three weeks, which means we will have more people active in parks, forests, and wild reserves." Captain Monroe fingers through some papers after setting them down on the table.

Finding one, he takes it and glances over it. He continues, "If you recall last year, we had some teenage arsonists who thought it amusing to start some wildfires, so be diligent in your patrols if you see unoccupied vehicles near dry grass and on the outskirts of our National parks. We also have a rising issue of drug trafficking this year. With that being said, Corporal Morgan and Warden Smith, you will be taking your K-9 unit and patrolling the northwestern region of our district. Try to avoid detection on the roads, and enter through the northern part of the woods."

"Understood," answers Charles.

"And before you ask, Morgan, the unit will be getting a new K-9 Monday, so Smith, it will be assigned to you. Sounds good, gentlemen?"

"Yes, sir," they answer in unison. Arthur turns to see a small smile on Charles's face.

"Very good. Let's continue with the remaining assignments."

Captain Monroe begins to go through each group and unit, reiterating the cautionary tales and places to keep an eye on. Arthur and Charles listen, though they don't need to. Arthur was only responsible for his unit and was to check in on other wardens as needed. He loved the freedom to be outdoors while also manning a gun and taking his dog along. To him, it has been the perfect job.

But knowing that some don't feel that way has bothered him in the past. He didn't appreciate the doubt that some had in his career choice.

Hosea and Bessie always told him he was intelligent and could have been a doctor or pursued a career in the exploratory sciences. But he preferred to help his folks work their ranch raising horses and hold riding classes. So, when he decided to go to college, it came as a surprise, as they were unsure of what he would pursue. But when they found out the reason why he even decided to go to college, they vocalized their concerns that his relationship with Mary wasn't healthy at the time. Arthur was convinced that being college educated would earn her parents' approval and they could get married, despite Hosea's assurances that it wouldn't. He didn't listen, had his heart broken, and they were certain that he would quit college, despite being close to graduation.

But he stuck with it. Earning two degrees in Biology and Conservation Law, it wasn't long before they were sitting in an auditorium watching him receive his badge after excelling in the Warden Academy.

Captain Monroe dismisses everyone and leaves the room. Charles and Arthur stand up, alerting Copper. Copper rises and comes to Arthur, tail furiously wagging.

"Hey, boy!" Arthur greets, patting his dog on the head. "Did ya miss me?"

"Do you wanna drive?" Charles asks, pushing his chair in.

"Naw, I see the look on your face. You take the reins for today. You oughta learn the routes, anyway."

"I know where we're going."

Arthur raises his hands in a playfully defensive gesture, smiling.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

Charles chortles and Arthur takes Copper's leash.

"Let's go."

***

After being on the road for a few minutes, a silence fell in the cab of the department truck. Arthur takes out a small leather sketchbook he uses as a journal and starts to write some thoughts down. He writes about this morning and the confusion he feels and hopes to figure things out. After writing, he looks out the window at the scenery and begins to sketch it.

"I didn't know you drew, Arthur."

Arthur turns and sees Charles glance his way before turning back to look at the road. "Oh. Yeah, I've been doing it since I was a boy. Not really good at it, it's just a hobby. It has been a while though, so I thought I'd get back into it."

"Oh really? I am into woodworking myself. I make bows."

Arthur lifts his chin, interested. "Really? Who taught you?"

"My mom. When we lived out at the reservation, it was important to keep our history alive. Making a hunter's bow was an honorary task. She also does some featherwork."

"So you're Native American? I thought that you're..."

"My father is black and my mother's Native American."

Arthur feels embarrassed, worried that he has offended him. "Oh. I hope I didn't offend you by..."

Charles lifts his hand in a passive gesture, putting Arthur at ease. "No, it's okay. I know you didn't mean anything by it. Most people are fine, but that doesn't mean everyone is. Even amongst my people, there were some."

"Huh."

"Yeah."

A small silence falls between them, the scenery changing slightly as they head more north. After another moment, Arthur clears his throat. "When did you move off the reservation, then?"

"I was almost eighteen. I guess my father wanted a different life for us. It was hard for my mom, but we adjusted eventually. I still go out to visit my family that's still there. I wish things could have been different for them."

Arthur doesn’t know if he should say anymore. There isn’t much to say. He looks to the back of the cab into the bed of the truck and sees Copper's head sticking up in his secured crate. He smiles. Turning back around he opens the page in his journal and begins to sketch a mountainous landscape.

***

Finally approaching the woods from the northern side, they pull off under some trees to hide the truck. They both jump out and Arthur immediately goes to the bed of the truck to let Copper out, who begins to whine quietly. He knows he is about to start working and it excites him every time. Arthur grins. "Just hang in there, boy. You'll be out soon enough."

Charles grabs their packs and pulls out a pump action rifle. Though they prefer to avoid shooting anything, there was always a chance to encounter something dangerous in the woods.

Arthur leaps into the bed and lets Copper out, who bypasses him, and jumps down onto the ground, sniffing eagerly. Leaping over the side, Arthur meets Charles and takes his pack from him. "Thanks, Charles.”

"Sure, Arthur.” Charles rests his hands on his hips and regards the forest before them, taking a deep breath of the pine-scented air. “Where do you want to start?"

Considering their options, Arthur points east. "Let's check out the spots where folks tend to camp. We might pick something up there. If Copper gets anything, we will follow him then."

"Of course."

Locking up the truck, they begin to trek in the woods, heading to a secluded spot where people tend to camp at. The woods are thick and the fresh air circulates through the leaves, causing a rustling sound. Looking up through the trees into the sky, Arthur regards the clouds and wonders if it might rain. He pulls out his GPS and looks at their location. The campsite is a mile into the woods.

"Arthur, look."

Arthur immediately stops and looks to Charles, who points into the trees. Following the line of sight, Arthur spots it: a young buck, gently eating at a small bush. Arthur looks at Copper, who remains still and does not bark.

"Good dog," Arthur whispers.

They remain still for a moment and wait for the deer to trot gracefully in between some aspens.

"Let's hope he lives a long life.”

Arthur replies with conviction and solemnity. "That's what we are here for, Charles. Let's keep going."

They move onward. As they continue, the light penetrates through the trees less and less. Arthur takes note of the health of the trees, indicating the dryness of the foliage in his Game Warden's logbook.

"Hopefully it will rain soon. It isn't good how early in the summer it is to have it dry like this."

"Yeah," Charles agrees.

It has been almost twenty minutes, and they approach the campsite. Pushing away at some low branches, Copper runs ahead and sniffs the site. Arthur holds back the branches for Charles who nods in thanks and they walk around the space. Charles immediately goes to the fireplace and checks the coals.

"Still warm. There is still a glow. So irresponsible."

Arthur regards the trash. Thankfully, it was all in a bag, but it was still left behind.

"Do you think they could still be around?" Charles asks.

"I don't think so. There's no tent."

"Maybe they're day hikers."

"Could be." Arthur notices a bunch of sunflower seed shells strewn all over the ground. "Don't people know they can burn half of the trash they bring in?"

"I guess not. Look at the sky." They both look up and see an opening in the trees. A line of smoke shoots straight up. Fire.

"The other camp?"

"Let's go, Arthur."

Arthur kicks dirt on the coals, stifling any that desire to burn. "Okay. Let's remember to come back and pick up the trash later."

"Sure thing."

Arthur whistles sharply. "Copper, heel!"

Copper comes quickly to Arthur's side and they move on to another common campsite.

"Who normally camps out here?" Charles grunts as he ducks under a tree.

"Teenagers and young adults who want to be alone," Arthur answers matter-of-factly. Copper leaves Arthur's side and trots ahead, keeping his head low to the ground.

"I can imagine," Charles scoffs, disgusted.

"C'mon. Don't tell me you never had a wild streak?" Arthur laughs, remembering the days when he would sneak out to meet Mary at the diner in town during its late hours. They'd share a milkshake and a few sweet nothings, and he'd come back home before Hosea and Bessie would even notice he was ever gone. Sure, he'd be exhausted in the morning, but it was typical for high school sweethearts to do things like that.

"Nope.”

Arthur’s smile falls, but after thinking about it, it doesn’t really surprise him. "Oh."

"I am guessing you did?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I condone trashing up a camp and leaving an unattended fire."

"Sure," Charles laughs.

Suddenly, Copper stops ahead of them and lifts his head. He sniffs the air and signals that he has found something of interest. Charles and Arthur stop laughing and watch. "Find, boy," Arthur commands, and Copper takes off.

Right in the direction of the camp.

"Something's not right," Charles says thoughtfully.

Arthur can’t help but agree. "Let's go see."

They walk briskly through the woods, carefully watching their steps, and see Copper sniffing at something large on the ground. It takes a moment to realize what it is.

It is a partially charred body.

Let me know if you want the next chapter! 😊

@photo1030

[chaos-grimlin]

Intro: No one truly knows what happened that night in Woodsboro, California. All the public knows was that two teenage boys, Billy Loomis and Stu Macher, went crazy. That the boys killed with no motive, that it was a case of crazy and peer pressure. Sidney Prescott, the "girlfriend" of Billy Loomis,Y/n L/n, the girl both boys were deeply obsessed with, and Gale weathers, a news reporter, where 3 of 5 witnesses that were willing to talk and tell their sides of the story to the public while Dewy Riley, the deputy sheriff of woodsboro, and tennager Randy Meeks refused to talk to law enforcements at the time. All the stories told to law enforcement seem to differ from person to person, but...in this tale, we will focus on Y/n, the obsessions, side of the story...

Marked (Poly! Billy Loomis and Stu macher x reader)

Word count:958

Chapter 4- Somethings not right

~~~time skip this is were it becomes strongly accurate to the actual movie! The top part is just ya know… intro to Y/n and stuff~~~

^^^3rd person P.O.V^^^

Casey stood in her kitchen, popping popcorn for herself and Y/n and Steve when they got here.

Then… Casey heard the phone ring.

Casey walked from the kitchen and picked up the phone from the hook and pressed it to her ear. 

“Hello?” she asked as she kept her eyes on the popcorn that was on the oven.

 “Hello” a deep male voice said on the other side. “Yes?” Casey asked. “Who is this?” the deep voice asked back. “Hmm… who you trying to reach?” Casey muttered. “What number is this?” “What number are you trying to reach?” the two went back and forth with each other.

"I dont know" the male voice responded.

Casey smiled softly "Well... I think you have the wrong number" she said with a small giggle.

"Do i?" The voice asked in a snarky tone.

"It happens! Take it easy" Casey said as she laid the phone back down on the hook, hanging up the call.

Casey went to walk off but she didnt make 4 steps before the phone started to ring again.

She looked back at it with a puzzled look on her face.

She went over and picked the phone up again "Hello?" She asked. Her voice stayed in a sweet tone.

"I'm sorry, i guess i dialed the wrong number" the same male voice said.

Although Casey couldn't see their face, she could tell whoever it was, was slightly messing around with her

"Ugh so why did you call it again?" Casey said with a amused smile.

"To... Apologize" the voice said.

"Well your forgiven, bye now" "wait wait! Dont hang up"

The voice sounded desperate to talk to her, and that made Casey smirk.

"Why?" Casey asked.

"I wanna talk to you for a second" the voice said in a flirty tone.

"They got 900- numbers for that.. See ya" Casey said and hung up the phone for the second time.

Casey then walked out of the living room and took the first tin of popcorn off the stove and put the other one on.

As soon as Casey pulled the paper off the top of the tin, Casey's phone rung again.

Casey let out a sigh as she walked over to the phone and picked it up, thinking it was Y/n or Steve.

"Hello? Y/n? Steve?" Casey said as she put the phone to her ear.

"Why don't you want to talk to me?" The deep, raspy, male voice that had called before spoke through the line.

"Who is this" Casey asked, slowly getting concerned

"You tell me your name ill tell you mine" he said.

Casey slowly walked back to the stove, keeping the phone to her ear.

"Oh! I don't think so" Casey said as she walked to the stove, picked up the popcorn tin? And shook it slightly.

"Whats that noise?" The male asked.

"Popcorn!" Casey said with a smile.

"Your making popcorn?" The male asked, trying to keep Casey on the phone.

"Uh-huh!" Casey said, nodding her head although the man couldnt see her... Or so she thought..

"I only eat popcorn when im watching a movie" The man scoffed out.

"Wellll... Im getting ready to watch a video" Casey said, sitting the popcorn back on the burner.

"Oooo really? What?" The man asked curiosity building in his voice.

"Oh just some... Scary movie" Casey said as she recalled it was Y/ns and hers favorite type of movie.

"You like scary movies?" The voice asked, his voice going deeper.

"Uh-huh!" Casey said with a toothy grin.

(Iconic lineeeee)

"What's your favorite scary movie?" The voice asked.

"Uhhh i dont know" Casey said as she scanned her mind, thinking of her favorite movie.

"Oh you got to have a favorite! What comes to mind?" He asked.

"Um... Halloween! Ya know..the one with the guy in the white mask who goes around stalking babysitters" Casey said as she pulled one of the kitchen knifes from its wooden holsters.

"Yeahh" he said.

Casey looked over to the stove and saw the tinfoil on the popcorn start to rise slightly.

"What's yours?" Casey asked.

"Guess" he said.

"Umm.. "Night mare on elm street"!" She said.

"Is that the one where the guy had knifes for fingers?" He asked

Casey put the knife back and started walking "yeah Freddy Krueger" she said.

"Freddy! Yeah that's right.. I liked that one.. It was scaryy" he said in a way that made Casey feel like he was lying.

"Yeah, well the first one was but the rest sucked" Casey muttered .

Casey remembered watching that movie with Y/n when they were younger and she remembers Y/n getting so scared by it to the point she wouldn't sleep and when she did she wanted Casey to look after her...the memory brought a smile onto her face.

The conversation went quiet after that as Casey walked through her parents house.

"So... You got a boyfriend?" The man asked, breaking the silence.

"Why? You wanna ask me out on a date?" Casey asked, not telling the man that she did infact have a boyfriend

"Maybee..do you have a boyfriend?" The man asked again.

"Mhmm.. No" Casey lied

"You never told me your name" the voice said in a flirty tone.

"Why do you wanna know my name?" Casey said, playing into the flirtyness.

"Because...i wanna know who im looking at.."

With that...

Casey froze.

She felt every muscle in her body tense up... And at that moment..she knew...someone was watching her..

[karlrose]

I've been working really hard to write the second chapter to the thing I started writing and I was hoping to have Chapter 2 done by the 30th. That is not happening because I'm, at best, halfway through and stuck in a Ladynoir scene I'm struggling to finish. I didn't realize how hard writing them would be for me until I had to do it. Ladynoir, in my opinion, is the most complex corner of the love square and I overthink every interaction they have. My husband read what I have so far and said that I get poetic and metaphysical when I write Ladynoir, making it harder to keep the scene moving fluidly. And then the special melted the rest of my brain so... Here's a preview of what I have finished so far

-Chapter 2- PREVIEW

Adrien was floating on air as he left the bakery, a bag of chouquettes in one arm and a baguette nestled in the crook of his other arm. Part of him couldn't believe it had gone so well and was convinced that he must have dreamed it.

He stopped walking as the thought settled in his mind like a sinking ship... then spun on his heel and started back towards the bakery.

“Kid,” Plagg flew out of his pocket to rest on his shoulder. “Where ya going?”

“I have to go back.”

Plagg sighed out of exasperation and annoyance, “You already asked her.”

Adrien stopped walking again. “And she-”

“She said yes,” Plagg responded with a whine. “Can we go home now? I want time to digest my food before you run off to see Ladybug.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” he sighed in relief as he spun back around to head towards his home. “Because I thought I might have-”

“Blacked out, made up an entire conversation in your head, and left... like a crazy person?” Adrien glared at Plagg who retorted with, “Yeah, you've been known to do that.”

“What would I do without your overwhelming understanding, sensitivity and tact?” he laughed, giving the top of Plagg's head a little scratch.

“Well, you'd make a fool out of yourself way more often. I know that!”

“Thanks, Plagg. You're the best,” he genuinely meant the words, but delivered them with sarcasm, the way Plagg would prefer the exchange of emotions he deemed 'sappy'.

He was an interesting and complex being of pure, concentrated destruction.

“And we have plenty of time for you to eat before patrol. It's only...” Adrien pulled his phone out of his pocket to glance at the screen. “... a bit later than I thought... and I have a missed call, but still... plenty of time.” He pushed the call back button and waited as it rang out the other end.

“Hello, Sunshine,” Luka's voice rang out from the receiver. “How's Marinette?”

“How did you know-”

“It's a Sunday afternoon, you weren't home, and you're a creature of habit,” he recounted casually with a pleasant laugh. “So, how is she?”

“I can hear you laughing,” Adrien started with mock annoyance. “What did Felix say to you?”

“He said I would find you drowning down by the Seine,” Luka answered, letting the giggles out freely now.

“I'll have you know that I am an excellent swimmer,” he retorted with confidence. “And I am in no way drowning. Because of my incredible swimming capabilities.”

“Uh-huh,” he could hear the smile in his voice. “It sounds like you're drowning now, pretty boy.”

“Why don't you say that to my pretty face, music man?” he challenged, a lopsided smirk spreading across his face. It was replaced with a look of confusion when the dial tone met his ear. Plagg burst out laughing in his other ear as he held his phone in front of him, staring in disbelief at the screen.

Then a very familiar bike bell rang behind him, causing him to jump and release a noise somewhere between a scream and a squeal as he whipped around to face him, scrambling to keep hold of his bags of baked goods.

Luka leaned on the handlebars, a knowing smirk curling his lip as he held Adrien's eyes in his own. Luka had a thing for eye contact and the intensity of his stare almost seemed to demand it of him. Everything about Luka was a contradictory blend of intensity and tranquility.

He realized that he had once again been captivated when Luka started to giggle at him and stated with more than a little sass, “You're drowning, pretty boy.”

He sputtered, grasping for sounds that might string together to form words as he felt the bridge of his nose turn pink. Failing to speak, he pouted indignantly, turning his head to avoid being captured in his gaze again.

“Can't handle someone sneaking up on you, huh, big cat?”

“Well, no one's ever prepared for a snake in the grass, are they?”

“Spicy,” Luka quipped, pulling his bike forward, offering the bike basket for his bags. “Need a ride?”

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?” Adrien returned with his own sass, leaning himself under his face.

Luka caught his eyes in his own again and leaned down until, close enough to feel their breath mix, he whispered, “You're going to be late.”

“I remember when you were fun,” Adrien glared at him with a pout before closing the distance between them with a quick peck, placing his shopping in the basket, and sitting on the bike. “And I have plenty of time.”

“You had plenty of time,” Luka stated as he began to pedal the bike. “Now, by the time we get to the Liberty and Plagg finishes his meal, you'll be about five minutes late.”

“I'm not late until m'lady calls and asks why I'm not there yet,” he responded. “So I'll actually have ten minutes to spare.”

“I remember when you took your job seriously,” Luka said with a smirk, glancing back at him. “Honestly, I'm kind of disappointed in you.”

“Don't you come for me, blue jay,” Adrien shot back playfully. “I've got your number, too.”

“Are you ever going to answer my question?” he asked with a voice laced with mirth.

“Um... I missed it,” Adrien admitted with some embarrassment. “What was the question?”

“How is Marinette?” Luka enunciated to be sure he wouldn't miss the question a third time.

He felt him lean his face into his back and take a deep breath before speaking, “She's good. Working herself into an early grave while pretending she has plenty of free time, as usual.” He lifted his head to continue with a livelier tone, “But that all changes soon. She agreed to move in with me. Now Felix can work into an early grave which, while also sad, I'm less upset about.”

“Congratulations,” he praised genuinely before following up with a jovial tone, “How'd you manage to get that to happen?”

“With your amazing advice; Open and honest communication,” Adrien said with pride before Plagg laughed hard at his statement. “Ignore the demon in my pocket. He thrives on chaos and lives to destroy my ego.”

“Well, someone has to chip away at that monstrosity,” Luka responded with a lighthearted chuckle. “It's starting to get in the way of your sparkling personality.”

“You're extra snarky today.”

“I'm simply returning the energy you're giving me, sunshine.”

“I'm gonna tell Marinette you were mean to me,” Adrien whined, placing his chin on his shoulder to be sure he'd hear him over the wind rushing past them. “She'll be so disappointed. She thought you were so nice. She was deceived by the kindness in your eyes, unaware that under that facade lives a venomous serpent. She deserves to know the truth.”

“Well, we can't leave the princess in the dark, can we?” Luka responded teasingly. “For the sake of honesty, I should tell her that you're a vindictive drama queen and an incorrigible flirt.”

“She is already very aware of both of those things,” he stated as a matter of fact. “You're losing your edge, snakebite.”

“Get off my bike before I bite you, kit-cat.”

“Really?” Adrien asked with a drawl. He couldn't see it, but Luka could tell by the lilt of his tone that he had a Chat smile stretched across his face.

“No, Adrien. We're here,” he said with an eye roll as he stopped the bike and gestured towards the water where the Liberty floated. “Now get off my bike, feed your pocket demon, and get to work before you orchestrate more distractions for yourself.”

He stuck his tongue out at him, hopped off the bike, and ran down the dock onto the ship to toast some cheese on baguette slices for Plagg while Luka carried the bike in behind him, humming a tune as he went.

Everything was so easy with Luka. He didn't have to pretend to be something he wasn't or lie about half of who he was.

Where Marinette was exciting, managing to constantly surprise him with how amazing she was, Luka represented safety and security, being someone he could confide in without fear.

When he had started noticing feelings for him, he had felt horrible about it, seeing it as a betrayal of Marinette, but when he talked to her about it, she repeated the words he had once heard from her mother, that he should never apologize for his feelings, and then she asked him two questions; Did his feelings for Luka change his feelings for her and did he promise to always be honest with her about his feelings. Since the answer to the first question was no and the answer to the second was yes, she said there was no problem, that it would only be cheating if he lied about it or tried to hide it. Then she went on a bit of a speech about love and it's complexities and lack of limits. It was actually really cute and reassuring until she confided in him her feelings for Chat Noir. That was when things got awkward, mostly because he had just promised to be honest about his feelings to her and now had to pretend that this information was news to him.

Sometimes being a superhero sucked. Most of the time, it was absolutely amazing, but when it came to talking about Chat Noir with Marinette, it sucked.

[overturie]

It's been months since the last time Yuhui has spoken to his father, and the way it ended still leaves a metallic taste in his mouth. But he can’t lie to himself. He suspects maybe he’s built it all up in his head over these past few years - his mounting dislike for the person he’d disappointed the most in his life, emphasizing every monstrous detail until he’s become a caricature. It’s been easier to just ignore him and pretend there aren’t things that he misses. Maybe even delude yourself into believing they were never there at all.

But he still remembers every digit of his father’s phone number. It lives inside his head despite the number of times he’s deleted and blocked and deleted and blocked again, again, again.

Maybe some part of him is still that kid whose first instinct in important situations is to call their parents. But another part of him is utterly convinced he’ll hear nothing but terrible things. If he thinks about it too long, he’ll start equating the olive branch of communication as an act of self-flagellation and chastise himself for even going this far - you’ve been happy, why fuck it up now?

So, he centers his thoughts on his fiance. May had told him do it for you, but if he were thinking solely of himself he would have never reached this point. Getting close with May’s family comes with a measure of guilt, knowing that there’s never a guarantee he can offer the same. But he wants him to be able to cross that line badly. He wants to show him those parts of himself, the people and places that have shaped him, he wants to see them welcome him, see what May’s face might look like, if he’d be smiling, if he’d like the landmarks of his childhood, if he’d like the food.

It’s with that in the forefront of his mind that he finally dials the number and puts the phone to his ear. Disarmingly, it hardly rings once before somebody picks up.

喂？Hello?

It’s his father’s voice on the other side of the line, which means it’s too late to go back now. Yuhui sucks in a breath, trying not to let his voice shake.

爸… 是我。Dad, it’s me.

There’s a crackle of noise on the other end — and then recognition. 阿恢？A’Hui? 打电话干嘛？什么事发生了？Why did you call? Did something happen? …

… 是不是你缺钱？Are you low on money?

He flinches. 啊… 不像那样… Ah… no, it’s not like that…

那干嘛？我也是好忙。Then what is it? You know I’m busy.

Yuhui’s grip on the phone is slick and his hand feels encased in ice. Then it tumbles out of his mouth like the blade of a guillotine, quick and heavy.

爸，我要结婚了。Dad, I’m going to get married.

There’s silence on the other end. It strikes him that he has no idea whether or not his father has seen the articles, the photos, which still make him uncomfortable. He’s regained his footing since then, but sometimes he shivers wondering how far everything has reached. Thankfully, there’s distance between them, and his father is - as he’d said - busy. Maybe too busy to keep up with celebrity gossip and tabloids, which he’d never really given a shit about, either.

Yuhui wonders if he’ll ask who the girl is… no, he braces for the real possibility of the question, wondering wildly with a hint of fear if he’d even be able to correct him.

Silence. Silence. Silence. Something burns behind his eyes.

可以… 说些什么？It bursts from him; suddenly he doesn’t care if what comes out of his father’s mouth is a lecture, a tirade, or something worse. He can’t stand waiting any longer. He’s been waiting for months. Can you.. say something? Yuhui closes his eyes. 你忍不了的话，你… 你不用... If -- if you can’t bear it then you don’t have to --

Then finally comes his voice.

你高兴么？Are you happy? 那个人。他对你好么？

It’s Yuhui’s turn to be stunned quiet. There’s no gendered pronoun in spoken Chinese, just one ta that encompasses everything and everyone. But he’s sure his father is talking about a he, written in the dangerously level tone of his voice. That person - he says. Does he treat you well?

He swallows, the hard lump in his throat refusing to give way.

你… 看见了… You… saw the…

知道好久了。 我是你的爸。I’ve known about it for a long time. I’m your father.

Yuhui can’t help it. There’s a rush in his head and he sobs quietly, trying to stifle it before it can be heard over the phone; probably unsuccessful. But those words batter down his dam, and for a moment he clasps a hand over his mouth and doesn’t dare to breathe, afraid to be berated.

But his father just listens to the tinny sounds of his son crying over the phone, months of anxiety and a sort of grief poured out all at once - he’s won this exchange in a way, prodded Yuhui with the least amount of speech to crumble his composure the most. Then Yuhui takes a gasping breath, feels his heart slow down enough to answer. Yes, yes, 我高兴… 我真的爱他… 人特好，对我特别好，爸，真的... yes, I love him, and he’s a very good person - he’s very good to me.

那祝你幸福。Then I wish you happiness.

There’s a beat. Enough time for Yuhui to say something - enough time for his father to add another thought. For a moment, the phone call hangs suspended in purgatory.

爸…

Then the line goes dead.

Yuhui lingers there for a while longer, phone still pressed to his ear. When he finally lets himself sit down again, he finds himself exhausted, but despite everything - the drying tears on his cheeks, his racing heart, the dull pain in his thumb where he’d pressed his index nail in too hard - his shoulders feel a little lighter.

Three hours later, he emails his father the invitation.