#that said - i suppose you could print a copy for yourself?

[compressingsins]

Jjk Men x chubby reader honeymoon Pt. 1

ft. Sukuna , Gojo , Nanami , Toji , and Naoya

Minors, do not read this, it’s nothing but smut. Pretty much jjk men and how their wife celebrates their wedding during their honeymoon.

Please do not copy or rewrite my works without my permission. 🫥

Sukuna - Your husband Ryomen Sukuna never seemed like the romantic type, which he wasn't. But for you, he didn't mind bringing you to this waterfall picnic, in a secluded oasis in the woodlands that was owned by a rich family. You were sitting underneath the waterfall, just taking in the gorgeous view of it, holding a glass of wine in your left hand. The view was gorgeous, a swimming hole was being filled by the waterfall, the was filled with coy fish.

Sukuna was setting up the picnic table that was big enough for the two of you, and you still couldn't believe how romantic this was. Sukuna even dressed up for you, which was also such a rare thing for him to do. You enjoyed this, though, smiling due to him finishing setting up the table, now sitting across from you. He wasn't expressing it, but you knew he was enjoying this just as much as you were.

"Thank you so much for doing this, baby. It really means a lot to me, especially after the week we've had." You two just got married a week ago, and now this celebration was going to also last a week long. You've been waiting for this moment your entire relationship with your now husband, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't waiting for the same thing. "It's really gorgeous out here, especially the coy fish, birds, oasis, and waterfall—oh my god!"

He loved seeing you this happy, so he couldn't help himself as he reached over the table to grab your hand with your wedding band on it. That of course got your attention, romantic Sukuna, was one of the best versions he's ever displayed to you. You loved him no matter what, but this was amazing. "I never thought I'd be telling anyone that I loved them. Not on the extent to which I am loving you, ____. This day is all about us, nothing or no one will ruin it."

Your heart throbbed so much for your husband, especially after he leaned over the table to kiss your plump lips, your left hand placing the glass of wine down so you could interlace your fingers together. The kiss was full on tongue boxing, your lips meshing together as the wetness from your saliva's joining and coating the thickness of your lips. Sure enough, Sukuna needed way more of you.

Nsfw —

You found yourself bent over the picnic table, thick fingers tangled in the locks of your hair as another huge hand smacked red prints into your plump ass. "Look at your ass jiggling on my cock, ____. Fuck, you've always been so beautiful." His free hand went to your thick hips to harshly pull you against his abdomen, his cock always splitting you in two. "You don't know how majestic you fucking look right now."

You couldn't register his words, especially with the way his cock so delicious slide throughout the spongy soft and sensitive interior and your pussy. All you could hear was his deep groans and the wetness of your pussy when his dick pierced precisely against that tingly spot inside of you. Sukuna loved how your body reacted to him, especially when your body released fluids that only he could ever make your body release.

"Fuck, look at you creaming on my cock. The wine was supposed to get you drunk and groggy, but apparently my dick is even better, huh?" You were definitely drunk on his dick, but not from the wine, literally from how addicting his cock fucked your pulsing and dripping pussy just right. "You're fucking cumming for me already, ____? Come here." He chuckled, yanking you up to stand on your feet and against his chest, one arm wrapped in between your breasts, the other reaching around to place thick finger's against your throbbing clit.

This only drove him to fuck your harder, "I'm gonna cum inside this time, ____. It's our honeymoon, why not make it even more special?" Your body trembling against his only egged him to go faster and deeper, he knew you wanted the same thing. "Just a little more baby, come on. Fucking cum with me!" His rumbling voice was all it took to get you there, along with himself, his other arm securing a spot back around you so he could hold you tightly as you both released harshly against one another.

Him not pulling out was the best feeling in the world, his lips landing against the back of your neck, sinking his teeth in only to slightly pierce the flesh. Sukuna let you rest against the table, but he didn't pull out. Instead, he placed both hands on the sides of your body, leaning over the table to whisper to you, "Come on ____, you always take my dick so well. You're definitely insane, if you think we're done."

Toji - Laying in a cozy log cabin, you were currently enjoying a tv show. The smell of food engulfed your nostrils, the holes flaring up from how delightfully pleasant the smell was.  Your now husband, Toji Fushiguro, was putting his cooking skills to the test for you in the kitchen of the log cabin he rented for three whole days, for the both of you to enjoy.

Knowing that Toji was married before, you didn't think that he would've popped the big question on you so suddenly one day, but you did not regret it. Him getting down on one knee and saying those four magic words, "Will you marry me?" Is always the reoccurring memory in your head. You didn't think Toji loved you that much, up until that day where he finally asked you to marry him, the most special day of your life.

"I see you're still in a good mood, ____." A deep voice spoke from the doorway of your shared room, and of course it was your husband Toji. Standing with his arms crossed over his chest, shirtless with only pajama bottoms on, he smiled handsomely at you like he always do. It was his one way of teasing you, because he knew you loved every small thing about him. Walking up to the bed you were laying upon, Toji settled himself on top of you and in between your plus thighs, his arms wrapped around your waist as he stared up lovingly at your face.

Placing your hand on his head, you smiled at Toji and said, "This is the best moment of my life, Toji. I'm glad that we were able to spend this time together." You slowly stroked Toji's black locks, staring down at his handsome before bringing your other hand to his face, slowly tracing the scar permanently imbedded on the corner of his mouth. "Besides, the food that you're cooking smells really good too. I'm taking it as the food is done?" You asked.

With a groan and shrug Toji replied with, "Hm, well yeah. But you know what tastes as good as it smells?" Your husband asked with a sly smirk, and you already knew exactly what he was mentioning, especially when his arms tightened around you. "We been here ever since 8 o'clock this morning, and now it's what-" He asked and looked to the night stand with the clock on it displayed 8:41 at night. "8 p.m. How about we enjoy a special treat, then eat together?"

Nsfw —

"I love how you shake, when you're taking my cock, baby. Look at how sexy you are—fuck!" A deep grumble erupted from Toji as he slowly but surely drilled his thick girth against your velvety walls. Your body always reacted in such a over dramatic way, every drag and pull of his cock against your walls sending a tingling sensation throughout your abdomen, as if every thrust he delivered was an orgasm in itself.

He loved putting you in missionary, so your plush body could receive stimulation in deeper areas to where you could almost instantly cum on his cock. His hand was wrapped tightly around your throat, your wind pipe struggling to get air, though you and Toji both loved it, especially since the sensation made your walls tighten impossibly harder against the thick organ that was fucking itself in and out of your deliciously fat cunt.

Toji loved this kind of love making with you, one hand around your throat, the other against the mattress you two laid upon to hold himself up and watch every part of you. His eyes trailed to watch his cock that continued sinking into your heat, his tongue sticking out from how erratic your clit looked from swelling and twitching from the way he pumped himself into you.

Your arousal coated his cock every time he pulled out, a slick white sheen decorated the black hairs at the base of his cock and made him impossibly harder. Your hand went to his wrist, getting Toji's eyes back on your face and he smiled in victory as he heard you struggling trying to speak, "Toji— fu— fuck! I— ugh— Toji!" Was all you could produce, your eyes rolling back as your walls clenched uncontrollably until he hit the back of your cunt, your pussy basically trapping him inside as it creamed harshly from the strong orgasm. "Toji—!"

Your voice reached an octave that he has never heard before, but the hard clench from your cunt instantly made him shoot thick jets of hot cum into your tight walls. His eyes sealed shut and his body twitched, though he wasn't done, his arms wrapped around you and held you close to him. "I'm glad you're a Fushiguro now, baby." Toji continued to slowly fuck into you, hearing squeals from you everytime he thrusted into you. "It's our honeymoon baby, we gotta keep this up."

Naoya - You didn't know how to describe this feeling. Absolutely terrifying, shocking, downright frightening, you didn't know. Your husband Naoya Zenin thought that facing your fears would be an appropriate experience on one of the most important day of your entire life. You were so many feet in the air, on a private jet that Naoya purchased just for you two. You enjoyed the time you two were sharing, but this jet experience turned your stomach.

He was comforting you every second though, and you didn't know that private jets had dedicated 'bedrooms' with classic King-size beds for total rest and relaxation on board and master suites. That part was very nice to know, but you still found discomfort in it. You both layed together in bed, the night being young and beautiful as he continued trying to get you to look outside the window that was above your bed.

You, however, were just clinging tightly to his shirtless chest, his arms wrapped securely around you to try and get you to calm down but it just wasn't working. "Honey, why are you so afraid? Just look at how beautiful the city looks from here, it's almost, just almost as beautiful as you are." But you weren't going for that, this was the scariest thing you've ever had to do in your life, and doing it on your honeymoon just wasn't making it better.

"Baby, come on, please?" He sighed out as you snuggled up tighter to his muscular chest, not letting him go for a second. "Look, if anything happens while we're on this jet, you know that I could save us both. No matter how high we are, you and I both will be fine, I promise." Naoya assured, his large hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. "You have nothing to fear in the presence of me, ____, and you know this. I want to enjoy this, but with you."

He sounded so sad that you couldn't help but look up at him. "But Naoya, it's just so scary." You confessed once again.

Thinking to himself, Naoya sat himself up with you following. "Listen baby. You hear that?" He asked as a brow of yours raised in question. "Does it sound like our jet is going to malfunction any second?" You could hear nothing, but the sound of the jet blades spinning on the outside. "Now look—look at that." Naoya smiled, taking your hand and slowly lifting you both up to look out the window above your bed. He settled himself behind you, his arms around your waist, and his head on your shoulder. Your breathing and body instantly calmed, "Look at how beautiful the city is from above, baby. Almost as beautiful as you." He softly spoke, his hands wandering your body as his lips planted a gentle kiss against your temple.

Nsfw —

With one big hand on the back of your head, and the other wrapped tightly around your throat, your body was puzzled together with your husbands. The slow upward thrust of his cock battered precisely against your delicate spots that had your mind racing like a track full of horses. His grip on your throat was tight, his hand holding your head still as you were forced to look at the city that he found so beautiful and adored so much.

"You're enjoying this now, aren't you ___? City looks really beautiful, right?" He was so cocky, knowing that when he made love to you, it would always be the best that you've ever had and he took pride in that. So he felt as if he could talk to you in whatever way he wanted. "What if I got you pregnant, up here right now baby? That would make the night even more beautiful."

The way your walls clenched on him only egged him on more, "Shit—you want that, don't you? I wasn't planning on pulling out, anyway." He whispered against your ear, his hot breath causing your pussy to leak around his cock, so much so trying to flood him out of your gushing hole. Biting his lip with a deep grunt, Naoya pulled you off the window and against his chest completely, "You really want me to get you pregnant, huh, ____?"

He wrapped his strong muscular arms around your body, his left hand gripping your chin and turning your head so that he could capture your lips in a heated kiss, his eyes sealed shut just as yours were to embrace the impact of this intimate moment. His balls slapped softly and gently against your clit, your juices soaking him in a delicious sheen of your juices. "I love you so much, ____." He desperately pleaded, letting his hips roll into yours in the most intimate way that had you pretty much drooling.

"Come on baby." He smiled against the side of your face, his hands sliding down your body and going to your thighs to harshly pull you against his hips and help you piston his cock faster and harder inside you. "I feel your little pussy clenching on me so tightly." With a deep moan, Naoya placed fingers against your clit to harshly draw deep circles on your wet nub. "Cum on my cock so I can get you fucking pregnant."

Nanami - Being in a five star classy hotel was the best way you could've thought of spending your honeymoon with your newlywed husband, Kento Nanami. The two of you were cuddling on the bed you shared, laughter filled the room as you watched a movie that was categorized as comedy. Everything at this moment was perfect, your husband holding your hand with your wedding band, occasionally playing with the rock inside it.

This moment was so special for you two, all this effort you two put into loving one another finally turning into a successful accomplishment. Not that anything else wasn't an accomplishment, but this was the best feeling either of you could've asked for. Nanami was in heaven, which is why he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, before placing a kiss to the side of your forehead.

"I love you so much, ____." Nanami confessed, even though he reminded you of this every single day, and every single chance he got to say this. Even with those three words and you hearing them occasionally, you adored them every single time, because he knew that you loved the reassurance. And that he loved you with every fiber in his body, he couldn't keep his emotions to himself now that you're both married and together forever.

"You don't understand how much I love you more, Kento. More than you ever could imagine." You whispered back, your soft words sending a jolt of lightening to his heart. He couldn't help how much he loved you, you were literally the best woman a man could ever ask for. His main life goal was to literally grow old with you, going through life together no matter how hard it is.

His hands wrapped around your hips, pulling you on top of him to straddle his muscular thighs. You could feel him, and judging by that look on his face, you could tell he wanted to completely forget this movie and just ravage you. But you loved how he asked when engaging these kind of moments. "Can we—indulge in each other a little more than this, ____? Only if you want to."

Nsfw —

Slowly but surely, you rode Nanami's cock so heavenly it had his eyes closed and his mouth halfway agape. Nanami had his hands stationed on your thighs, letting you ride him at your own pace, getting your own rhythm and letting you take whatever your body desired. All he could do was moan your name, the deep rumbles of his chest making your walls suction strongly on his cock.

Given his size, Nanami never minded being patient with you, he let you take control only when if you asked otherwise. "Kento—you feel sooo... sooo good, babe." The way your arms wrapped around his neck and hugged his torso caused your body to lift up on him more, shifting your hips in an angle that made his cock curve and deliciously slide across the silky surface of your tight walls. He loved moments like this, only with you.

"I love you, baby." His voice choked out. Your body was so beautiful, he loved how it felt when you pushed yourself all the way down on his thick cock. The way your body jiggled added more sensation to his body, the dopamine boost to his brain boiling sweat across his body, his thick organ leaking pre-cum and adding a tingly sweet feeling to his abdomen. He could feel himself about to burst, "____, I'm about to—"

"Please Kento—just—cum inside please, I'm cumming." Your voice broke in a way that had Nanami's sack tightening in a way its never done before. He wrapped his arms around you, grounding you against his cock to thrust up into you, assisting your body to rush the delicious taste that you both could feel on the tip of your tongue's. Your orgasms were right there, the feeling approaching faster than it ever had before. "Baby—!" You practically screamed out.

Nanami couldn't help himself, holding you against him as he lifted you with one arm and pushed you onto your back, keeping up the momentum and continuing the onslaught of his thick cock inside your sopping wet pussy. He concealed you and his moans with his delicate lips, letting his dick stir your insides in the way that instantly made you clamp down on him, your pussy making his body stutter and splatter a thick load of cum inside of you, painting your insides white like a beautiful canvas. He kept his hips moving, however, the overstimulation making your eyes water and your hands shoot up to push at his chest. "We have to keep going baby, I need you to know I love you so much."

Gojo - It was the second day of your honeymoon with your husband, Satoru Gojo, and here you were trying your hardest to get comfortable in the heat of this spa bath. How your husband was able to rent the entire spa place to yourselves for a day, you had not even the slightest clue. You were currently sitting in the water, trying your hardest to accommodate to the hot sensation of the water, but it just wasn't working.

Trying to imagine the water being cold, that didn't work, trying to imagine yourself at home in your bath tub where the temperature was just right, and bubbles popped around your body but nothing worked. Gojo told you that he just wanted to have a relaxing day with you but if you're being honest, you've never been to a spa a single day in your life. So this is all new to you, you didn't know how people could get comfortable in the heat of this water.

You were standing halfway out of the water, only half of your body in the water with your hands covering your chest. It was just so hard to get comfortable to the point where you could sit back and relax, but apparently your husband loved spas. And hearing the deep chuckle from behind you, you could also tell that he was enjoying the view of your body sticking out of the water.

"I must say, your ass looks good as hell from this angle, baby. Mind if I join you?" You didn't even have to say anything because he was already dropping his towel and for you, he always removed his blindfold, placing them both to the side. Stepping into the water without a second of hesitation, your husband sat on the edge of the water, his arms propped up on the edge as his legs spread open wide, a spot that was only reserved for you. "Come here, babe."

"Babe, how the hell am I supposed to get comfortable in this water? I mean, it's not like my bath at home."

Without hesitation, your husband grabbed you and pulled you into his lap, his arms secured tightly underneath your breast, his head on your shoulder with a small smile. "You'll get used to it, ____, I promise it's not too bad depending on how long you stay in. And if you want—" Your husband chuckled, "I know a sure fire way to make you more comfortable."

Nsfw —

Water splashed alongside the spa bath, Gojo holding your legs against his chest with one hand and his other hand having a tight grip around your throat. He loved the way your throat bobbed up and down desperately trying to get air from how tight his hood was around your neck. He let his cock slowly sink deeply into your heat, though, the impact of his hips caused your body to move harshly back and forth against the spa edge.

He looked so angelic fucking into you, his crystal blue eyes piercing daggers into your face. He loved staring at your face, watching how your facial expressions morphed into different one's with each thrust he shook through your body. "I'm so glad I rented this place just for the two of us—fuck, you look so good." His hold on your throat tightened, the rosey tint that appeared on his being one of the signs that your pussy was gripping him just right.

You loved hearing your husband moan from the tightness of your walls, and it was pretty hard to tell your soaking juices from the actual water. "Your pussy is warmer than this water babe, fuck—you don't know how much I love you." With your legs still on his shoulders, Gojo decided to fold you completely in half with his body weight, his long cock thrusting languidly into your wet walls, his hands holding your wrists flat against the surface of the spa. "You know babe, I don't think you've ever been tighter for me."

Your head lolled back against the edge of the spa bath, Gojo taking the initiative to suckle deeply onto your throat. "Satoru—everything feels so... fuck—! I love you!" That only edged him on to continue his administration's on your pussy, the slow methodical thrusting of his hips touching every sensitive spot inside your velvet walls. "Please do it this time, babe!" And that stopped him, the white haired male sitting up to look upon your face. Trying to see if you were serious or not.

"Are you serious, babe? You want it now?" Your desperate whining moan was all he needed to reel his hips back and continue his onslaught, his mouth engulfing yours to swivel his tongue around with yours. If you thought this was the right time for it, then Gojo definitely didn't mind trying. He's never done this before, but he was ready to see how it felt. "If you think now is the right time to get you pregnant, let's put a baby in you."

This work was originally written by @compressingsins , if you see anything similar, please report it to me. 🫶🏾

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sukuna #jujutsu smut #jujutsu toji #jujutsu kaisen satoru #anime smut #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #gojo satoru #x chubby reader #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #naoya zenin #gojou satoru x reader #gojo saturo #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk ryomen #sukuna ryomen smut #jujutsu ryomen #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #ryomen x reader #lemon #smut

[niningtori]

let me into your world | chapter three: our world

pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, choi soobin x you

summary: you're single again and choi beomgyu is restless.

genre(s): romance, angst, angst with a happy ending (?), soulmate au

word count: 3.3k

notes: hi........ yeah i'm super fucking impatient and literally could not wait to post part 3 NENJWKWKDOE i'm sorry! anyway idk how i feel about this but i'm tired of looking at it so i hope it's likable! also, this chapter is extremely suggestive so be warned. there's nothing explicit, but i'm still freaked out. see ending for more notes!

you do nothing but think of him. you thought your heart was done breaking after beomgyu, but you realize even without the matching seal, your heart was still with soobin. 4 years of love and commitment over and done because of a fucking tattoo. you're tempted to continue wearing your ring to work because you dread the questions that will almost certainly follow. you haven't told a soul - not even sumin - about what happened. what were you supposed to say? the love of my life didn't want me... again?

you entertain the idea of keeping it on to maintain appearances, but the mere sight of it is enough to put a pit in your stomach, so you keep it in the drawer in your nightstand. it's close enough to your bed to take out at night just to do nothing but stare and fiddle with it between your fingers. you remember the night he put it on you. you remember him promising you forever and the sweet loving that followed. you remember every word, every touch, every feeling.

you wonder if he's happy with her, but you know he must be. you two were happy enough as it was - you can't even imagine how happy he must be with the person who was fated for him. you feel envious of a woman you don't even know. what you wouldn't give to have that green seal printed on your wrist. you feel sick just thinking about it.

"you alright?" a voice snaps you back into reality. your coworker, minjun. he's cute, very cute, but you've always been committed to soobin so you've never really noticed before now. you had eyes, of course, but you've kept them trained on soobin for years now. you suppose that dedication was futile.

"uh, yeah. i'm good," you reply while hastily shoving your ringless hand under your desk. he eyes you suspiciously before dropping the subject.

"are you planning on going to the company retreat?"

"what? oh, yeah. i guess," you say, still somewhat distracted. your company is planning a retreat to celebrate the success of combining branches. you don't really want to go, but you can't stand the thought of sitting at home and waiting around for someone who will never come back. "are you going?" you ask, trying to actually engage in the conversation for fear of coming across as rude, but you don't quite catch his next words.

"i'm going if you're going," he says.

"what? sorry, i'm a little out of it," you smile.

"i said i —"

"can someone help me?" beomgyu cuts in from out of nowhere. "the copy machine isn't working for some reason."

"can it wait? we're having a conversation," minjun replies irritatedly.

"it can't. i really need to make some copies," beomgyu says urgently.

"fine, i'll help you," minjun grumbles. you're relieved that he's stepping up because you certainly don't want to.

"actually, i just remembered that sooyoung wants to see you in her office."

"what?"

"yeah, so i guess you can't help me after all," beomgyu says with a smirk you don't understand.

"i'll help you," you sigh, resigning yourself to your fate. beomgyu smiles triumphantly, but you don't see it because you're already heading towards the copy room.

"what's the issue here? everything looks fine to me," you say confusedly.

"where's your ring?" he asks, seemingly harmlessly, but it stings just to hear. you immediately forget about your question to him as you shut the machine and defensively cross your arms, feeling incredibly vulnerable.

"i'm getting it resized," you cough.

"ah, okay," he says, and it's like he sees right through you. "you have lost weight recently. are you eating enough?" your eyebrows furrow at this. yeah, you've lost weight only because you're so fucking depressed eating genuinely seems like a chore. more importantly, why does he know that? and more importantly than that, why does he care?

"why do you —"

"turns out sooyoung didn't need me," minjun cuts in, nearly bursting from the door.

"mmm, i must've been mistaken," beomgyu shrugs nonchalantly. you sense tension, but you can't fathom why.

"did you get the copier fixed?" minjun asks, completely ignoring beomgyu.

"we fixed it, yes," beomgyu says before you can even open your mouth.

"oh. good."

"yeah, she really helped me out," beomgyu says, not without snark. why is he lying? never mind, actually. you don't have the energy to care.

-

beomgyu can't feel your joy for once, which should make him feel relieved, in theory, but instead there's an incessant gnawing at his heart. all he wants to ask is why, why, why. and what can he do to help? he doesn't have to wonder why for much longer when he sees you walk into work without your ring on. he doesn't mean to notice it, but his eyes always gravitate to the rock on your ring finger, almost like it's taunting him with what he can't have.

he'd be an even bigger liar than he already is if he said he didn't feel some sick sense of satisfaction knowing it didn't work out with you and soobin. this is what happens when you go against fate, he thinks. the thought alone used to scare him, but he's felt what it's like to try to be with people other than you and he knows going against fate just isn't in the cards for him anymore. he tried pretty much everything after you, from casual flings to would-be serious relationships, but nothing panned out the way he wished it would.

he continues to try to worm his way into your life in the little ways. he gives you updates on bands you used to bond over and he mentions jokes you two used to share. he brings you coffee when you're tired and tries to make you laugh. he slowly but surely chips away at your indifference until you unconsciously become dependent on him. he wants his presence to be felt by you, just for him to become a little bit meaningful to you, is that really too much to ask?

the first time you actually smile for him, really smile, for the first time since he hurt you, he almost cries. as cheesy as it may seem, he honestly was unsure you'd ever show it to him again. the smile is over almost as soon as it begins, but he'll take it. he thought he'd take anything you'd give him at this point, but the hunger he has is insatiable. he starts from wanting a smile to wanting every smile. he wants to monopolize your joy, your time, you. maybe he's moving too fast, but he decides he'll tell you just how lonely he's been without you during your company retreat. it hasn't been very long since your breakup with soobin, but he won't sit idly by waiting for you to get snatched up again. no way in hell is he gonna let that happen in front of his nose again. not this time.

-

the company retreat is full of icebreakers, which is to be expected, but the cool thing is that the bar is open, though it's not an "open bar". either way, you're going to try your best to get plastered as soon as humanly possible. you want to, but beomgyu is constantly on your ass, monitoring every move you make, so it's hard to even get to the point of almost tipsy. you give up after two drinks and you're not even buzzed.

you want to hang around danbi, but she's currently zeroed in on beomgyu, which is a good thing because it means he can't hang around you as much. minjun makes for really good company, though, and before long, you two are off in your own world. you didn't realize how funny he is before tonight. he hints at maybe taking you out some time, but you can't say yes without knowing about his soulmate first. he tugs on the collar of his shirt and reveals an ornate golden seal on his collarbone. it's a beautiful contrast on his gorgeous skin, and your breath catches for a second when he shows it to you.

"pretty, right? i thought so too. my soulmate doesn't want me, though," he laughs softly.

"i understand how you feel," you say.

"so soobin...?"

"is not my soulmate, but he doesn't want me anymore, either." you don't know why you're telling him this, but he's being vulnerable with you and you feel a sense of camaraderie you haven't felt in a long while.

"i'm sorry. i know it's hard, but i can't imagine anyone not wanting you."

"really?"

"i'm serious, if i were your soulmate i'd never let go."

"that's sweet of you," you blush.

"even if you weren't my soulmate, i still wouldn't let go." you still at that. you honestly didn't think you'd ever hear those words again, much less believe them, but he seems to be incredibly sincere. so when his lips come closer and closer, you're prepared to let it happen. you don't know minjun that well, but who's to say you can't? here's a beautiful man who says he wouldn't let you go. it feels nice to be wanted for once, and by someone who's already tried and failed with their soulmate. who knows what could happen? you close your eyes and wait for his plush lips to meet yours, but they never do.

"minjun! sooyoung wants you!" beomgyu shouts while hustling over to you.

"shit. some other time, maybe?" minjun says, face flushed.

"definitely," you giggle. minjun gets up as if it's the last thing he wants to do, and you smile as he stretches his hand out and helps you up. none of these actions escape beomgyu. you watch as his silhouette gradually gets smaller and smaller as he heads over to sooyoung.

"what did sooyoung want with minjun?" you ask beomgyu, trying to break the silence. you still feel a little high off of your almost kiss with minjun and you're not thinking 100% clearly.

"nothing, i just pulled that out of my ass," he shrugs.

"... so that was total bullshit? what the hell is wrong with you, beomgyu?"

"what's wrong with me? what's wrong with you?"

"what do you mean?"

"i mean, if i see you two flirting again, i'm reporting you both."

"you wouldn't."

"try me," he challenges, eyebrows raised with that godforsaken shit-eating grin you've come to loathe.

"beomgyu," you struggle to muster up a shred of composure, "can you stop trying to lord over my life?"

"is that what you think this is?" he scoffs. "you think I'm trying to control you?"

"what i think," you sigh while pinching the bridge of your nose, "is that you're being a dick and i can't deal with you right now."

"alright, if i'm not a dick, how else will i get you to talk to me?"

"i do," you begin incredulously, "i talk to you every day!"

"not in any way that matters."

"has it ever occurred to you that i don't want to talk about anything else?" you inhale and exhale shakily. "please stop before i get angry."

"i wish you would!"

"what?" you question and you can physically feel the frustration rising like steam in your chest, begging to be released. as if he's in a position to be making demands. as if you should listen to a single word that comes out of his fucking mouth.

"i wish you would get angry! swear at me, yell at me, hit me — i don't care! just give me something!" you stare. you're tempted to relent and release all of your anger. your face scrunches in irritation at the implication that you owe him a goddamn thing, but just as you're about to let go and let him have it, you remember who and where you are and think better of it.

"that's enough, beomgyu," you turn to make your way back to your room. you don't have time for this. "i really don't want to—" he grabs your hand and spins your retreating figure back towards him.

"just say something!" his eyebrows are knitted in concern and his words are riddled with desperation. your patience snaps.

"you want me to say something?! fine! i hate you! i hate you, i hate you, i hate you!" you stamp your feet. your eyes begin to feel sour and the corners of your lips tense into a frown. his eyes widen and his mouth hangs open as he searches your eyes for the something he's wishing so ardently for. it feels like he's looking straight through you, just like he always does, so you break away from his gaze and your eyes focus on some fixed point behind him.

"i hate you! you... i wish you'd leave me alone!"

your words are teeming with emotion, just not the ones you're trying so hard to convince him (and maybe yourself?) they are. you look so vulnerable, so small, and so very afraid. he doesn't flinch at your biting words. his hand, so big and warm, still holds yours. his eyebrows are no longer furrowed and his dark eyes seem to lose the urgency within them. instead, they're filled with something that feels like patience, understanding, and tenderness all at once. you don't dare to put a name to the feeling, but you know it when you see it. love. 

"don't you fucking look at me like that! you don't deserve to look at me like that! i hate you," you choke out with a sob. hot and angry tears begin to trickle down your cheeks and his eyes widen. gently, purposefully, he pulls you into his chest with one hand and cradles your head with the other.

"shh... don't cry. please don't cry. it's all my fault," he coos as you half-heartedly hit his chest in frustration.

"you're an asshole. you treated me like shit and now you're forcing me to talk about it. why are you making me do this?"

each point is punctuated with a "smack" against his chest.

"because i love you," he whispers into the top of your head as his fingers begin to soothingly stroke your hair. "even if i don't deserve to... even if you wish i didn't, i do. so much. and i think i always have, i just didn't know it."

"that's not fair," you strain between sobs. "y-you broke my heart."

tentatively, like he's handling glass so fragile it could break with the slightest hint of force, he unwraps his arms from your shivering frame and cups your reddened face in his hands, gently wiping away your tears. his head cranes down as he touches his forehead against yours. you look up with your misty eyes and see his gaze trained on you.

"i know, i know... i'm an asshole... it's all my fault. please don't cry. hit me harder, if you want. smack me. punch me. kill me if it makes you feel better. just don't cry anymore, okay? i can't stand to see you cry."

he sounds like he's bargaining with a child throwing a tantrum with the way his words are hushed and hurried, but pacifying all the same. in any other circumstance, you'd roll your eyes at his theatrics, but he seems so desperate to get you to calm down that you can't bring yourself to point it out. he pulls you back into his arms and you burrow your head into his chest as he rubs circles into your back. with every sob he shushes you softly and drowns you with affirmations.

i know, i'm sorry, i love you.

it's my fault, don't cry, i love you.

you stay like that for an indeterminable amount of time.

"i know i was wrong for treating you the way i did; i was young and stupid and i had no idea what i'd be missing. i know i'm being unfair, but i promise i'll make it up to you every day. i'm not going to hurt you and i won't leave unless you want me to. you're my soulmate, and i wouldn't have it any other way. i can't have it any other way. if it's not you, i don't want anyone else." 

you're softening now and you hate it; you want to run away and continue to be angry. the betrayal you felt was indelible. you can still see him with a girl on his arm and you feel nauseous. you remember him telling you just how indifferent he was to you, to your feelings, to your pain. but none of that seems to matter anymore as he gently cups your face and runs the pads of his thumbs under your eyes to stop your tears. "okay," you say softly, and you don't have to explain, because he already knows.

-

when he takes you back to his hotel room, he promises he won't touch you unless you want him to. you want him to. you stand on your tip toes and pull him down towards your lips and his breath catches behind his teeth. he raises his hands up to your face, reminiscent of the way he held it as you cried a mere hour ago, and you giggle at the parallel. he seizes the opportunity to gently glide his tongue on your lips before entering your mouth. he groans into your lips as your tongues tease each other. you're even sweeter than he imagined you'd be, and he can feel his effect on you as he breaks the kiss and trails hot, opened-mouth kisses on your neck. this is what he's been missing, he thinks, as you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him even closer.

that night, beomgyu takes you again and again. it's more than sex - it's as if the stars aligned for the sole purpose of bringing you two together for this exact moment. you feel connected to him in a way so profound, you previously thought it was impossible. it feels like the universe put him on this planet just for you, and you for him. you suppose, in a way, it did. especially when you two are finally finished as you lay your head on his chest and feel every breath enter and exit his warm body. he cradles you in his arms and you look up at him, locking eyes. you both smile while he reaches up and tucks your hair behind your ears, revealing your seal.

"so beautiful," he whispers.

"who? me or the seal?"

"the seal, of course," he says nonchalantly, "but looking at you now, you're not too bad." you playfully smack his chest and he reacts with a comically childish yell. you hurriedly cover his mouth and shush him, but he takes the opportunity to grab your hand and kiss your fingers with an overdramatic "mwah!"

"you're so fucking loud, you know?" you tease, poking his side.

"says the one who was screaming out my name the entire night."

"i hate you," you say embarrassedly, blush overwhelming your already flushed cheeks as you hide your face in his chest.

"maybe, but you're still stuck with me," he replies.

"mhmm," you mumble into his skin - already falling asleep.

"stuck with me forever, right?" he asks, and if you weren't so intent on burying yourself into his chest, you'd see the look of insecurity on his face - his long eyelashes trembling ever so slightly.

"forever," you say as you drift off to sleep, and you're so happy, so content, he finally feels safe enough to sleep without fear of waking up in the morning to an empty bed. he grasps you even tighter and mumbles "i love you" into your hair until he eventually drifts off himself.

notes pt. 2: not the best thing i've ever written i fear... anyway do y'all wanna read the extremely corny fluff that i originally wrote for this or no? it's sooo corny but sweet i think. as always, feedback is always appreciated :)

[taglist]

@my313 @woncheecks @superbbananananana @zzhyuu @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @defnotleee @everythingvirgoes

#niningtori #let me into your world #txt angst #beomgyu angst #beomgyu #txt beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu fic #soobin #txt soobin #soobin x reader #soobin x you #soobin fic #txt #txt fic #tomorrow x together #toxic!beomgyu #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt headcanons #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu headcanons #soobin imagines #soobin scenarios #soobin headcanons

[tinypixl]

Inspired by Vrelnir saying that Harper was originally supposed to track down asylum escapee PC's on the blogspot a while ago, so here's a lil scene for how I imagine this could have gone (with a tiny sprinkle of wish fulfillment✨)

@pip-n-chips come get yo food, this was motivated by you digging up that old-ass ask 👀

Warnings/Additional Info: m!Harper, no smut sry, Harper being Harper, stalking, vomit mention, wobbly writing, implied past/future SA, traumatized PC, drugs, kidnapping, a tiny sprinkle of yandere

"...And remember, ladies and gentlemen," Harper said sternly, his hands folded behind his back: "You are dealing with a very disturbed and possibly confused individual that is quite capable of harming others as well as themselves."

Harper now finally turned to face the group of orderlies behind him with an unreadable expression. He paused for a few seconds, letting his words set in before continuing: "That being said, it is of upmost importance that you do not underestimate the patients intellectual capacity," Harpers expression remained unreadable but he visibly clenched his teeth, remembering how he himself had so stupidly miscalculated that sharp wit of yours.

"...Especially not after the incident that they caused a few days ago, which started this whole situation in the first place. The ones of you working in the asylum will know the full extend."

Some of the orderlies exchanged confused glances, the others knew better.

Harper turned around again and took a few steps forward. He stopped infront of a desk and picked up a piece of paper. It was a poster. A poster of you, with glazed, terror-stricken eyes. It had been taken when you first came to the asylum, now printed out as a warning to the townfolk (at least, that's the excuse he used in this case all the time: the safety of the townfolk...)

He inspected it incrediously, before swiftly fetching it as he spoke up once more: "I not only want you to be on the lookout for anyone entering and leaving the Nightingale hospital, I want you to keep an eye on the whole town, especially on Domus street. We've talked about the benefits those who'll retrieve this patient will recieve."

Harper looked upon that beautiful poster of yours once more before turning his head towards the orderlies one last time, the soft smile he usually wears had returned to his features.

"That was all, don't forget it," he remarked mannerly but one would've been reckless to ignore the discreet undertone of his voice.

"You are dismissed."

Orderlies began to shuffle out of the room. Harper made sure to wait until the last one left, the door slamming close before he returned his attention to the poster.

The dark room was dead quiet now with the only light peaking in through the thin lines of the shut blinds.

Harpers thumb gently brushed over the cheek of your image as he only took in your haunted expression for a moment. Then, he moved his arm to put it back on the desk again but stopped short of it's surface. Instead, he folded it three times and put it in the right pocket of his doctor's coat for later. It's not the first copy he lended for personal use but it's okay, he made enough for it not to make a difference.

To his suprise, he actually found himself feeling quite giddy today. It was certainly a big improvement from last weeks mood.

That being said, he still chastised himself for his embarrassing underestimation of your character. After all, it was extremely significant for his profession to be wary and watchful. But you were always so unassuming. Harper had carelessly mistaken your quietness as flustered shyness, maybe even submission. A mistake, that had made him want to rip his hair out when it finally hit him.

Your mind's stubborn refusal of his hypnosis attempts should've been a major red flag for that but then again, you'd never made the impression of an unruly patient who was plotting something. You weren't really popular with the other patients, mostly keeping to yourself and studying. You never resisted the rest of the treatment, never attacked him, always looking at him with those big innocent doe eyes-

Harper slammed his hands on the desk in front of him, some of his irritation returning accompanied by an odd fluttering in his stomach.

That little plan of yours had set into motion about two months ago, he reckoned. He recalled the view in front of him, of the flimsy hospital gown barely covering your supple body and how you'd obeyed his command to sit on his lap without any protests. The way your plush thighs had pressed against his own...

He could still feel the shivers go right into his crotch thinking about it... And how you'd kissed him then... Your soft lips hungrily bruising his, wet little tongue peaking into his mouth. So eager, so devoted... He really thought then that you'd lusted for him in the same vain that he had for you for so, so long.

A shaky breath came through Harper's slightly parted mouth. He wasn't entirely sure if you'd taken his keycard then or after he had you bend over his desk but it was gone in the evening. He'd spend the entirety of that day flushed with his heart pumping, he hadn't thought much of it going missing, as he'd also visited the farm not too long after. There was a spare he'd kept after all so it didn't matter much to him, thinking it just fell out in his lust-filled stupor...

Imagine his horror when he'd gotten all the patients back under control during that incident and you were suddenly missing. He'd even been worried at first that you'd gotten attacked and were lying somewhere, hurt. The security footage disproved that rather quickly. None of the orderlies had been able to find, let alone retrieve you from the surrounding area.

He'd spend that whole evening looking for you, and the entire night looking through hours upon hours of security footage. You'd entered the security room the same evening you'd stolen his keycard. That had also been when your frequent studying habit started. Every single damn textbook you'd used had been looked through by him that night. Oh you smart, slippery little thing. You'd been trying to figure out how to manipulate the control panel all this time...

A uncharacteristic grin formed on Harper's lips, his giddiness returning. Right, you were smart and you'd tricked him. He gave you that. But you were also all alone. Sure, he couldn't really waltz into Bailey's territory to get you back, you were still his ward which he hated, he should be the one in control, it wasn't enough to desperately pull on your delicate strings-

But you also wouldn't be able to hide in the orphanage forever. Eventually, you would have to resume your everyday life and then it would only be a matter of time.

Harper glanced into the asylum's yard through the cracks of the blinds, watching all the small moving figures.

It would only be a matter of time before he got you back.

~

A few small knocks rang against your door. The noise didn't startle you too much anymore, you'd gotten used to it pretty quickly after coming back. Despite this, it seemed a bit different today. With how early it was you first thought that it had been Bailey but the softness of the knocks contradicted that assumption.

For another moment, you just laid there, staring up at the ceiling before exhaling and dragging yourself to your dingy bedroom door.

Through the little gap, the flickering light of the hallway as well as two big, round, sympathetic eyes greeted you. Robin. She wore that small apologetic smile, with her brows softly knitted over her eyes. You adored that expression as much as you loathed it sometimes, it made you feel so pitied...

"Hey, how are you feeling?", Robin inquired carefully.

Stuttering, you could only give her a rather vague answer: "Umm I... I d-don't know I... think I'm okay...?"

"Do you think that... Maybe you'll be able to go to school again? No pressure of course! I'm just... A bit worried that you'll maybe miss too many hours. Don't want you to get written up or anything.."

Sweat collected on your hands that you tried to wipe on your pyjama pants. Robin was right but... You were still a bit... skeptical about assuming that you're in the clear just because you escaped but you couldn't tell her that.

Robin noticed your inner tutmoil and chimed in once more: "Of course, I'd walk with you to and from school! Just like you did when I was...", she trailed off.

Your mouth felt dry, trying to force out an answer.

"... Okay. I'll get ready."

Robin beamed at you before telling you to come to her room when you were done. It's fine you figured, you couldn't hide in the orphanage forever.

~

It was, in fact, not fine. But you didn't figure that out soon enough, the days after you'd gone to school again running just too smoothly. Despite looking over your shoulder, you never saw anyone watching. On the third day you even felt save enough to start to go to work on your own again.

Now, hiding in an alleyway beside two dumpsters in the dead of night, you noticed your slip-up.

Your hands were clutching a poster that you had ripped off the wall behind you minutes prior and probably the reason why you were in this situation in the first place. Your face was plastered on top. On the bottom it read: 'Warning! Dangerous asylum escapee; Caution is advised' along with a number to call about your last whereabouts. You had never been a danger to other people and still weren't but you knew the truth didn't matter in this town. Not when it was so easy for someone sneaky and powerful enough to just twist it to their advantage.

It was now abundantly clear to you where the orderlies you'd ran from earlier came from. Why didn't any of those posters catch your attention before?

Quietly, you huddled further into yourself beside the two dumpsters, trying to keep it together.

The alley lead into a dead-end but maybe, just maybe you were lucky and they hadn't seen you go in. You assumed they were still searching the surrounding area, so if you were quiet enough-

"Are you certain they went this way? You haven't found any trace of them yet."

You almost choked on the air that you were trying to inhale, hands instantly clasping over your mouth as you tried to keep yourself from hyperventilating. Of course, you'd recognize that smooth almost plummy voice instantly. You briefly wondered why he'd make such a big effort of showing up himself to bring you back but then again, the poster clutched in your hands over your mouth should've been enough prove to you that he was very serious about this.

A group of footsteps ripped you out of your thoughts and made your heart jump in terror. They were still rather distant but... definitely in the alleyway you were hiding in.

"100% sure Doctor, 'seen them go in this direction myself. We've searched any possible place they might've went. They have to be in here."

Oh god, you felt like you were going to throw up. The footsteps came closer, you could hear it. The ones closest to you sounded calm as they could be. Unrushed, taking their sweet time before they suddenly stopped.

"Alright. Let me handle this.", Harper's voice rang out once more. Now you could only hear those calm, slow footsteps coming closer and closer. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes.

Your name being called out gingerly sent a cold shiver down your spine. Harper's voice had taken on a soothing tone, the same one he used to play-pretend a normal doctor, the same one he used to hypnotise people:"... You don't have to be afraid any longer. I'm here to help you!"

At this point, you had completely given up on trying to control your breathing. Instead trying to hold you breath as much as could to prevent a full-blown panic attack. Prey, you felt like cornered prey.

"Please don't make this so hard on the both of us. I can help you. You'll feel so much better with regular treatment, I promise..."

Tears now ran down your cheeks freely as it took everything in you not to sob in pure horror. Despite your heartbeat pounding in your ears you heard clearly that his voice had started to shake slightly; giddy with anticipation. You needed to get out of here... You needed to get out of here!

"Someone in your predicament shouldn't be without help for so long...", his voice became more breathy as he closed in on your hiding spot.

"We both know that I know what's best for you..", the edge of lust in it was now unmistakeable. He was getting off on this.

You bit down on your tongue, trying to still your quivering form. You'd captivated the dear doctor, so much more than you could have known that you did and now, you'd pay gravely for your mistake-

"Got you."

A bloodcurdling scream tore out of your throat when his flushed, panting face was suddenly inches away from yours. It was instantly muffled by a chloroform-drenched rag. In your adrenaline-fueled desperation, you tore on his arm and pulled him down with you.

It took Harper by suprise and he crashed down on his knees, which gave you the chance to draw in a last-minute breath before wasting no more time to get to your feet to bolt out of the alley.

Something brushed over the hood of your jacket, trying to grasp ahold of it but failing as you ran, ran, ran

right into the arms of the two orderlies, to your unfortune.

"Not so fast!", one of them commanded. You tugged against them but they have you held tightly by both arms.

The clicking sound of dress shoes against concrete rang in your ears. You lifted your head to Doctor Harper's approaching figure.

Finally, the loud sob you'd been holding in slipped from you. You started struggling even harder against the two orderlies, nauseous with pure dread.

"Easy there kid.", one of the oderlies told you but you couldn't hear them, your mind preoccupied with primal fear.

Harper steps in front of you, with his usual soft, creepy smile.

"Sshhh..." Harper gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before firmly grasping your chin. His thumb lightly stroking it.

"Don't worry, I know what you need. I know that you need me."

With that, he held the rag to your face tightly as he continued to shush your muffled cries.

His thumb never leaving the softness of your cheek until your lights went out.

#degrees of lewdity #harper the doctor #i have offically escaped from the adhd beast #ok post of the year now on to post nothing for the next six months or so

[film-in-my-soul]

okay trying again !

icemav and only one bed < 3

Sorry this took a million years!

.⋆｡°✩ Ice and Maverick decide to share a room at a mutual friend's wedding. What could go wrong? ✩°｡⋆.

"No."

"C'mon Ice, it's not that bad."

Ice quirks his brow, mouth pulled in a low, tight frown. He looks between Maverick, hip cocked and spine pressed easily against the line of the doorframe and the single bed right in the middle of the room. He doesn't bother to gift Maverick with a response, instead choosing to scoff hard and budge past the other man, back to the front desk where they'd checked in for what was supposed to be a single room with decidedly two beds.

He doesn't know if Maverick doesn't follow because he's being an ass or because, somehow, he already knows that Ice won't have any luck getting the issue sorted out. 

Even with his most charming smile (pinched at the edges as it is) and prepared with a printed-out copy of his emailed reservation confirmation, there's nothing the concierge can do. She looks apologetic, at least, and processes him a partial refund, but Ice is forced back to his and Maverick's room with his metaphorical tail between his legs and a headache brewing behind his eyes.

If one of their mutual friends decides to get married again, Ice is going to decline. It's late into the night, their flight had been hell, and he's tired. He's going to fake the plague if someone has the gall to send him an invite for anything ever again.

When he stomps back into the room, he comes up short as the door clicks closed behind him. Maverick is in the process of pulling two of the four pills off the bed, the too-small, decorative quilt blanket previously on the foot of the mattress over his shoulder.

They stare at one another, blinking, silent, until Ice sighs heavily, some of the frustration melting off of him at the image Maverick makes.

"What the hell are you doing, Mav?"

"Uh," Maverick looks between Ice and the bathroom, once, then twice, before shrugging. "Was gonna sleep in the tub since I figured there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell they had an extra room to spare."

There's another moment where neither of them moves, and then Ice is helpless to do anything but heave another sigh, stepping into the room proper and grabbing the pillows from Maverick's slightly slack fingers.

"Ice-"

Ice throws them back onto the bed and whips the blanket off Maverick's shoulder for good measure.

"C'mon man-"

"No." The second time he's said it, now for entirely different reasons. "Short as you might be, you're gonna fuck up your back in that tub, and then you're gonna make it my problem. You keep your icicle feet to yourself and drool on your own pillows. Anything other than that, we'll manage."

Another staring match ensues, Ice affecting a look of total apathy and Maverick, by the set of his jaw, waiting for Ice to crack. It doesn't happen, and when a minute passes, Maverick's shoulders drop in obvious defeat.

"Just don't hog the covers." He mutters, shaking his head as he goes to where he dumped his duffle.

Ice takes his, still on his shoulder, into the bathroom.

"And fuck you, I'm not that short!"

He waits until the bathroom door is closed before smothering the exhausted laughter Maverick's managed to pull from him.

.⋆｡°✩⋆✩°｡⋆.

The process of falling asleep is actually easier than Ice had thought it would be. The ever-present heat of another body next to his, Maverick's body next to his, had shot his pulse up high into his throat, but even then, the mix of post-commercial flight fatigue and the knowledge of an early start had had Ice's eyelids drooping too quickly for any flustered anxiousness to take hold.

Of course, when something wakes him up only three hours later, he's not as lucky a second time. However, Ice thinks that has more to do with what exactly pulled him out of his admittedly light doze in the first place.

Of course, that is, because why would it be anything else, Maverick. Specifically, it's Maverick having rolled over right into the middle of the bed, well into Ice's slice of mattress, the cowlicks of his short, soft hair brushing uncaring against Ice's cheek with how close he is. Maverick's pressed all along Ice's side, shuffling his limbs in the sleepy way people who are prone to movement in their sleep do. Little sounds of displeasure at not being able to find a comfortable spot make Ice's chest tight, and then promptly stops his heart as the shorter man slides a leg over Ice's, his knee nestling easily between Ice's slightly parted thighs, his nose pressing right against Ice's throat, warm and light, gentle puffs of air sending shivers all across Ice's skin when Maverick finally settles.

A minute passes, Ice as still as stone, and then another. There's no change; Maverick doesn't magically decide he'd rather be on the other side of the bed. In fact, one of his hands finds the bottom hem of Ice's shirt and holds on, clinging like Ice might be the one to roll away. With what room, Ice doesn't know, but it keeps him in place, along with the distant fear that Maverick might actually wake up and do it for him.

Three days. They're here, sharing this room, this bed, for three days.

Ice gives up on the urge not to look down at Maverick's sleep-slack face. His heart kicks back to life and thuds double time against the back of his ribs. Something soft and molten rolls in his stomach, sickeningly fond.

Three fucking days.

He's not going to make it.

Ficlet Bingo!

#icemav #icemav ficlet #top gun ficlet #ficlet bingo

[flamingo-writes]

Hi flamingo how are you? How are you with your leg pain since the move? Have you been resting? I hope so!

Well as always I leave you a mini request before starting the week ;)

What do you think that, reader is a not so well known singer ,who is starting out in the world of music and meets Hobie in one of their own performances when they are singing on stage.

hope you have a wonderful week tysm <3!

I’m not going to lie to you, I’ve had a bit of a writer’s block. I powered through it though. I thought of a million ways this could’ve played out and went for the one I liked the most. I hope you like it too, and I’m sorry for the late reply 😢 I rewrote this like three times help 😭 whenever I wanted to sit and write I ended up doing a lot of other things.

With A Little Help — Hobie x Reader

Title inspired by the song by the Beatles With A Little Help From My Friends. The bicycle thing is inspired after a real accident I had once, except I don’t play the guitar and but I did get hit on a freshly made tattoo 🥲

Warnings: cursing,

The moment you decided to start a band with your friends, you knew from the beginning it would go one of two ways.

You could either sign with a producer and basically sell yourself like whores. Somehow gaining a debt just by signing a piece of paper, and working an ungodly amount of hours just to pay your debt, and hope the fame you’ve gained actually helps you make money after the percentage the producing house gets. Becoming puppets for the producer to move around the way they want.

Or you could do everything yourself working with what you had. Recording wherever you found available –sometimes that place being your own room–, asking friends if you could borrow equipment or instruments. Asking for favours. Gathering coins your couch has been swallowing and hoarding for years to print a few hundred copies of posters announcing your next gig.

And out of the two, you knew perfectly well which one you wanted. One of them helped you maintain your freedom, which was exactly what your music spoke about. Gathering a small and loyal fanbase was relatively easy in the low underground bars. The punk scene, the alternatives, and the rock fans soon spread the word around their friends. Eventually, these same people started offering their help with equipment, a few bills for copies, even instruments. It was still a small fanbase, but it was more than enough and they were all somehow more helpful than most people

One day in particular, your guitar player gave you a call. To your nerves, you picked up your phone, furious.

“Where the hell are you?! You’re so late! We’re supposed to start playing in ten minutes!” You barked.

“Ye-yeah…About that…” Your guitar player said with an awkward chuckle. “You see, it’s a funny story…”

“Oh god, no…” You groaned.

“Listen. First of all I’m fine–”

“What the fuck does that even mean? Wait, shit, bruv, did something happen to you?”

“You see, this is where the story gets funny…” They said with an awkward giggle. “I was minding my own business, on my way to the bar. I was on my bike. Riding it, you know. When an old lady and a tiny ass dog appeared out of nowhere, from the corner. In an attempt to not run over either of them, I turned and there was a tree–”

“You can’t be serious…” You gasped, “you alright?”

“In the greater scheme of things, yes I am…But…I kinda hurt my wrist very badly…”

“God, I’m scared to ask…how badly…?”

“Uh, I don’t think my skin is supposed to look purple…And the lady I almost ran over is offering to drive me to the emergency room?”

“Shit. What do we do? Do we cancel—“

“No! Don’t! I don’t know. Improvise?”

“How? You’re our guitar player!”

“Go wild on the bass?”

“Fuck off!” You groaned, annoyed.

Hobie Brown was not far from there, hearing to actually both sides of the conversation through his enhanced hearing. Helping your drummer setting everything up.

“I think something happened to your guitar player, mate?”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m hearing…” Your drummer said nervously.

“If you guys need help, I know how to play the guitar…I can sight read too, but if you give me a couple of minutes to look through your songs, it would be better…” Hobie said as your drummer’s face widened in surprise.

“Dude, seriously?”

“Yeah,” Hobie said, smirking confidently.

“The motherfucker broke–”

“We found a guitar player!” Your drummer interrupted, raising both arms in the air happily.

Hobie giggled and looked over at you. Your eyes remained wide and confused, wondering when the roller coaster of emotions was going to end. You knew him. You didn’t really, but you’d seen him around enough to recognize his face.

“Seriously?”

“Sure, why not?” He said, shrugging.

“Oh god, thank you! Thank you so much, mate!” You said happily, running your hands through your hair in relief, making Hobie chuckle.

“Call me Hobie,” He said with a cheeky smirk.

You introduced yourself, as well the rest of your band. As you discussed what t do for the set list, you insisted Hobie didn’t improve and sight read all of your songs, and instead settled for a set list made out of mostly covers from famous songs, and just leaving a few of your original songs distributed for Hobie to take a break from a hyper concentrated state.

As the anxiety was rising in your belly, about to make you puke a minute away from starting your gig, Hobie grabbed your shoulder, catching your attention.

“Hey, it’s going to be alright,” He said, trying to comfort you. “And if it blows, then what the hell? It’s not going to be the last time you play. That way you could always make a dramatic comeback and look even cooler,”

His words while making you feel less scared about it all, it did nothing for your nerves.

Although as soon as you started playing, the music consumed you. Playing with Hobie instead of your guitar player was simply different. Not that any of them was better or worse than the other, but the dynamics changed drastically. Despite not really knowing Hobie that well, the interactions on stage were fun, spontaneous, even comfortable, like you’d known him for way longer than just the last hour.

Hobie not only exchanged glances with you and walked over to you while playing his guitar, he also went over to your drummer. Sometimes jointing you for the choruses of the covers, or adding spontaneous riffs to guitar solos.

By the end of the gig, people were crazy, screaming, jumping around. As you grabbed the mic, covered in sweat and breathless you thanked them.

“We’d love to stay, but we actually have to go check out on our friend…” You chuckled. “Our guitar player had Ana vidente earlier today, and couldn’t play. We had the magnificent Hobie, here, helping us out!” You sighed. “Let me hear it for Hobie for being a real one!” The crown screamed and clapped, as Hobie smiled at you.

“Thank you for letting me help,” Hobie said, walking over to the mic and grabbing it. “Thank you guys as well!”

“Oh yeah. You guys made this very fun!” You said going back to the mic, your face bearing Hobie’s as he glanced at you with a smirk, “Have a good night, everybody!”

As you walked behind the stage, you grabbed a towel you had nearby and dried your face and hair.

“Good job out there,” Hobie said walking behind you.

“Thank you! It was all possible thanks to you!” You said looking up from your towel. “I’d love to stay and talk but…”

“Yeah, go check on your friend. You can buy me a beer some other time to return the favour,” He said with a cheeky smirk.

“Just one? An entire gig for just one beer?” You joked.

“Well, at least three,”

“Sounds like a deal,” you sighed, meeting his stare and biting your lower lip softly. Seriously, thank you…”

“My pleasure,” He said confidently, meeting your stare, as you noticed something in them sparking.

“See you around?”

“I hang out here an awful lot so, yeah,” He shrugged, putting his hands in the pockets of his vest.

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #hobie x you #hobie x reader #hobie brown x female reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #hobie x y/n

[vashsmunch]

Medusa

Millions Knives x GN Reader

Synopsis: you get a tattoo from the sexy blonde bitch

Warnings: mentions of sexual assault

A/N: i think medusa tattoos are really sick ngl

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───  

His hand tightened on your thigh, stopping you from squirming around. "Stay still."

Easier said than done. Your spine tingled as he finished peeling back the paper with your design. Why were his hands so soft? Wait.

Maybe a hip tattoo wasn't the best idea, not only for the pain level but also for your sanity. You weren't thinking straight when you decided on this for your first-ever tattoo. Depressive nights with glasses of alcohol will do that to you. But a hot tattoo artist, that's the dream, right? Platinum blonde hair, snake bite piercings, and a deadpan stare as he inspected the example pattern he had copied onto your skin. However, you had conveniently forgotten how awkward you were when it came to talking to attractive people, so the fact that he was touching you (on your hip)? You wanted to die. His face was so close to your leg, and you could feel his breath on your skin. Trying to distract yourself, you examined his name tag. "Nai" was printed in neat handwriting, but you were reading it as if you hadn't stalked his social media before the appointment. 

After he was satisfied with the placement of the design, he walked over to a rolling cabinet, took out a fine liner and a bottle of black ink, and then came to sit back down on the stool next to you. "Are you uncomfortable? Do you require anything before we get started?"

You shook your head no, and he gave you an affirmative nod before he motioned you to get into position again. You laid back and gripped the sides of the chair, shuddering as you heard the electric buzz of the tattoo gun. God, this was going to hurt, wasn't it? You winced as the needle made contact with your skin, but it wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. There was silence for the first few minutes of the process because you were too anxious to even speak. You were worried that you would either say something dumb or mess up the tattoo by suddenly fidgeting; both scenarios caused by this idiotic mini-crush you had on this man. 

"This tattoo design..." You tried your best not to jump as Nai suddenly spoke. "I trust you know the common reason why people get it, right?" Your chest closed in on itself, and you felt your body go frigid. Out of all the conversation starters he could've picked, he chose this one? 

A weighty sigh left your mouth, and you tried your best to continue without creating more awkward tension. "If you're talking about what I think you are, then yes, that's why I got it," His hand started to grip the side of your hip to stretch the skin slightly, making your head fuzzy. "It's not something I like to discuss, but that could be said for anyone. More than anything, I want to try and move past it. I thought that if I got something permanent that reminded me of my healing process, then every time I looked at it, I would find the strength to keep going." 

The tattoo gun buzzing suddenly stopped, and you glanced down to see Nai looking at you with a somewhat sympathetic expression. It was hard to tell with his cold eyes. A few moments passed before he continued working, his gaze leaving yours. "I see. I'm sorry to hear that happened to you, but I admire your resilience. Not many people dare to confront their trauma the way you are."

You smiled sadly as you looked back up at the ceiling. "I suppose so. But I wish it never happened at all." Your mind flashed back to that night, and you felt a chill settle in your chest. Sometimes, you thought it was bound to happen one way or another, even though you knew that you did nothing to warrant what that person put you through. Maybe it was a way for you to cope; if you tried to apply reason to the assault, it would be easier to heal. Wouldn't it? But if that was the case, how come you still wanted to cry every time you thought about it? There was a wetness on your cheek, and you realized that you were tearing up. Great.

"Do you find you've lost hope in people after it? One could imagine that that kind of experience would leave a rather poor taste in the mouth." 

"Sometimes. But one variable doesn't represent the entirety. I think that there are still good people out there. I was just unfortunate enough to have met the wrong one."

The rest of the session went on in relative silence, only exchanging words when you had to take breaks in between. After a few more hours, he stopped again and tapped the flesh of your hip with his finger. "All done. Have a look."

You sat up, stretching as you took the mirror he gave you to examine your tattoo. A huge smile came on your face as you saw the detailed Medusa design on the side of your body, and you looked back at him with glee. "It's perfect, exactly like how I imagined."

Nai chuckled quietly as he leaned down to your hip again, seemingly examining his work. "It's simply the linework. We'll finish the coloring in another session to give you a rest." His hand ran across your skin, and you shivered at the touch. 

Okay, now he's just teasing me. 

He sat back up and took his gloves off with a loud snap, looking at you with an unreadable expression. You turned away, trying to avoid his eyes as you collected your stuff and pulled out your wallet. "Here's the first payment, can I DM you on your account to set up the next appointment?" 

"Instead of that, I'll give you this," He gave you a slip of paper, and you glanced over it to see a phone number printed. You looked up, absolutely baffled, and he smirked. "My phone number. You can reach me there. You interest me, and I'd like to get to know you more... if that's fine with you." 

#millions knives #millions knives x you #nai x reader #nai x you #trigun stampede

[liennka]

Fromage - part II

Hannibal Lecter x Will's daughter/teen patient reader

Summary : When Y/n for once arrives early for her therapy, she ends up in a life-or-death situation... And she has to fight too (s1 e08)

-> Feel free to insert yourself instead :) This is my first story and I am open to any criticism (be nice pls).

I just wanted to say that I am not the owner of this show, but I did make this story, so don't copy it without my knowledge, thank you.

"And where do you think you are going?" he took a couple of steps to her side of the room. 

Hannibal couldn't stop him, feeling dizzy himself. Y/n opened the door, almost out of danger, but he had long legs and great range.

One second he was stretching out his hand, the next she was on the floor. His cord cutting across her cheek and neck. Y/n felt a searing pain, as if ten people slapped her at once, throwing her to the ground.

Tobias swung the wire again, aiming for her head. She dodged at the last second by ducking under the table, her blood stuck to her hair. Her sob was low, but Hannibal heard it. In a matter of heartbeats, he picked up a small sculpture and threw it at him. It hit Tobias's back and he crashed into the wooden door.

Hannibal had time to compose himself as he walked up to him and punched him in the face. Tobias got his jaw dislocated, but he still managed to boot Hannibal, swinging his string once more. It wrapped around Hannibal's hand, making a terrible sound similar to breaking bones.

----☆----☆----☆----

She wiped the blood from her cheek with her sleeve, feeling the deep gash every time she moved her facial muscles. Meanwhile, Tobias threw a tea table at Hannibal, destroying his favourite glass furniture. Enraged, Hannibal threw him over his other table in return. Y/n covered herself with her hands and curled up.

Tobias got hold of Hannibal's decorative knife and tried to stab him. Y/n crawled out the other side, picking up a shard of glass. And as he was about to stab Hannibal, she crept from his side and stabbed him in the shoulder. 

Tobias screamed, letting go of Hannibal and grabbing the back of her head, slamming her into a wooden cabinet.  Her vision went black and she passed out. Tobias stomped on her, but was stabbed by a pencil.

Focusing on Hannibal again, they made their way back to the ladder.

"You two are really annoying. When I kill you, I may use her guts, she seems to be a tough one," he grinned. 

Hannibal saw red, such rudeness was too much. He let Tobias punch him through the ladder and grabbed his arm, breaking it. Tobias could only scream and wave a knife, but a clean blow to the neck sent him to the ground. Hannibal pulled out a handkerchief so as not to leave any prints on the stag statue and proceeded to beat the shit out of him. 

----☆----☆----☆----

Y/n regained her consciousness as she felt Hannibal's hand cupping her face. 

"You were so reckless Mažasis, but you saved my life," He gently stroked her hair.

"You killed him," she breathed out in relief, "was that mercy?"

“Tobias?”

“Franklin.” 

“And what if it was not?” Hannibal cocked his head, clearly testing her.

----☆----☆----☆----

"If he was killed simply for living, may his death be kinder than man," she whispered, glancing to where his body was lying lazily. 

As she slowly pulled herself together, Hannibal called the FBI. 

"They're going to ask questions."

"So we answer them, from the bottom of our hearts," Y/n knew what he meant, she would have to lie. 

"Is my dad gone? "Y/n remembered what Tobias had said.

"I suppose so, but I hope not."

She began to cry, not caring that her blood mixed with her tears and made her face look like a painting of a wild berry cake. Hannibal's warm embrace lulled her to sleep, and when she awoke, her father was standing over her. Hannibal was patched up, only his bloody face remained. 

"We were worried you were dead," Hannibal said lovingly to Will, still holding her in his arms.

"Dad!" was the first word of Y/n.

Will took her from Hannibal and kissed her bruised forehead.

“If I had got here sooner I would have killed him myself, I am glad you are all right, though you are still injured. I am so sorry Y/n/n," Will whispered, his brows furrowed with worry. 

"She saved me, you have a fierce child, Will. I admire her, although she shouldn't have been here in the first place," Hannibal smiled, then raised his eyebrow.

“Yeah, that was mainly my fault, I couldn't take her here today,” Will scratched his neck, obviously feeling guilty.

----☆----☆----☆----

After that, Jack had interrogated both of them, but for the most part she had not even had to lie as she had been face first into the ground. Her face was bandaged, the blood was washed off and ice was put on her forehead.

Y/n made a mental note to never come early to her sessions again, and to always carry a knife.

#child reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter #will graham #teen reader #original character #hurt/comfort #traumatic experience #y/n #hannibal

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere King of Hearts x Reader (AMWP)

Context

“Ohhhh (Y/n)! I dropped my favorite rose-pen in the fountain, would you be a dear and get it for me?”

Your eyebrow twitched in annoyance as you heard the unceremonious plop of the object slap the water before sinking below. You debated pretending as though you didn’t hear him; the current King of Hearts was an absolute pain. 

“YYYYYYYYYYY/NNNNNNNNNNNN!” “ALRIGHT I GOT IT I’m coming.”

You stomped into the pristine card-themed courtyard where the King of Hearts or Hammond sat in his portable throne smugly grinning. The cards surrounding him in their newly evolved forms stood dutifully in their suite’s maid dress. You pass them daring not to look any of them in the eye in light of your first day– you casually looked a guard in their eyes in front of him and he ordered for them to be beheaded. 

Huffing once more you leaned over the rim of the fountain, expecting to see the shimmering heart-patterned floor. Instead being greeted with the deep and unclear waters of something deep enough to be a well. 

“What the–?” “Hehe~”  

Thwack!!! 

“Ahhh!” 

You splashed into the water head first, thanks to some prickly force hitting your back. ‘Screw this pen! I’ve got better things to do.' You gained your bearings before righting yourself back up and swimming to the surface. You hardly caught your breath as you heaved yourself onto the rim hearing the sound of a camera clicking. 

Click~Klack

“Yes! Yes! Take it from a lower angle, yes! ARE YOU DAFT?! I SAID LOW DIDN’T I !?”

You realize exactly what this was and internally kick yourself for falling for this once again. Crossing your arms and putting your scolding glare on, you started. 

“Hearts, did you purposely make the fountain deep and not actually throw anything in there?”

“Oh please, are you accusing me of also playing a sporadic game of golf with a hedgehog right here in my courtyard? Of course not.”  He smirked as he was handed the already printed photos of your fall shaking them to develop them faster.

He totally did.

“Hearts-”

“Hammond.”

“Ugh, Hammond, why would you do this? Did you just want to embarrass me?”

He chuckled with a naughty grin. “Don’t think so low of me Darling. I’m only satisfying my desire to admire your (c/s) skin pressed against those wet stiffy work-clothes of yours~” 

You tightened your hold around yourself as though he didn’t already have photographs. 

“I’m embracing a hobby that doesn’t include violence of any kind. Just like therapist Alice would say: ‘healthy activities are better than not’ or something idiotic like that.” He flicked his hand disgusted at the thought of the prying therapist. 

When the descendant of Alice decided to stay confined with the rest of Wonderland’s inhabitants they were given a job that would help them and others cope better with the trippy, disorienting experience that was this adventure. Being a therapist was their ultimate decision for employment.

You left quickly after that; you had way too much work to waste on his antics. You stomped past his cards and off his castle-grounds making your way to the next demanding task.

_____________________________________________

“These pictures are marvelous.”

“I know, it's only a matter of time before they send them to meet you.”

“Even so I doubt I could ever let them leave.”

Hammonds’ crimson eyes captured the delighted smile on the nearly identical face to his. Those same colored eyes glazed and the gloved fingers holding the photos trembled with their owner.

“Was their glare angry or was it disappointed?”

That was what differentiated him from his borderline copy. 

“It was an angry exasperated kind-” “Ohhhhh♥️~that suits them just perfectly~!”

Hammond excused himself both ruing the day that they would eventually have to switch. How on Earth was he supposed to rely on this broken clone to act all carefree and cool like he was. The woes of the nearlt perfect king. At least they had one thing in common other than their face and it was an intense fixation on the uptight assistant manager, who was practically begging to be taken at this point. 

♥️♥️“I honestly don’t care if you don’t love me…but if you don’t say it I’ll behead that hatter you're so fond of.”♥️♥️

♥️♥️♥️♥️“I command that any assistant manager with the last name of (L/n) be forced to insult the King of Hearts upon greeting.”♥️♥️♥️♥️

Next Part: Coming Soon

#yanderes x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yanderexrea #yandere harem #yandere alice in wonderland #yandere AMWP #yanderecore #yandere king of hearts #yandere genderbend disney #yandere disney #yandere masochist #yandere genderbend

[sinsiriuslyemo]

Title: Perfect

Pairing: Jim Gordon/Reader

Rating: PG-13 (language)

Summary: You should've known that Valentine's Day with Jim would be perfect, even when you hated Valentine's Day.

Notes: Happy Valentine's Day!

Warning: fluff and cheese incoming.

You had never been a fan of Valentine’s Day. Even when you were in a relationship, it had always seemed to you like a day that only benefitted corporate America. Not that you hated the excuse to be romantic with Jim, but the point was that you never really needed an excuse. The two of you were romantic with each other all the time. Part of you wanted to insist that you skip any silly Valentine’s Day celebration or grand gestures and just spend it the way you would spend any other Wednesday, but the look on his face when he proudly proclaimed over breakfast a few days before that he had thought of the perfect Valentine's Day activity kept your cynicism at bay. He seemed so excited. Who were you to yuck his yum?

“So, listen, what I was thinking was that we could recreate our first date,” he said as the two of you got into his car to head home on Monday.

You furrowed your brows. “Uh… are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Yeah, I thought it’d be cute and romantic.”

Your brows shot up over your eyes, but apparently he hadn’t noticed.

“We can go to that little Italian place, and then go for a walk in the theatre district,” he said, and your expression returned to one of bewilderment. “Maybe even stop at that same little street cart off of Monroe and get some —”

“That was our second date,” you said.

He narrowed his eyes, looking over at you as you came to a stop at a red light. “Wait a minute, are you saying you count what was supposed to be our first date as our actual first date?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“Because we got called into a murder scene before we even got to the restaurant and then spent practically the entire night going over casefiles of similar MOs and waiting on DNA evidence,” he replied.

“Yeah, so? It was still our first date,” you insisted.

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “I say it stopped being our first date the moment we were interrupted and had to go to work.”

“Are you kidding? We got to spend the whole night together,” you argued with a smile.

“The whole night looking over other murders instead of eating at a restaurant. Yeah, some date. I didn’t even kiss you at the end of the night.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have kissed at the end of the first date anyway,” you teased.

“Oh really? Cause I seem to remember your hands wandering a bit on our do-over date,” he teased.

“I told you, you had dust on your pants,” you answered, trying to contain a smile.

“Oh, that’s right,” he conceded. “Anyway, that night was our first date. Not the one where we didn’t even get to go to dinner.”

“We did have dinner, it was just shitty takeout at the precinct. We still talked, we still got to know each other more. And we danced to the copy machine!”

Jim smiled at the memory.

“Why would you wanna erase that? That was romantic and cute in it’s own special way. I mean, okay, I agree, the murder was a bit too much blood for a first date —”

“You think?”

“Okay, but I don’t focus on the moments that weren’t ideal first date scenarios. I think about the conversation we had while we were waiting on the DNA to come back, and the shitty take out while we were going through old case files looking for similar MOs, and dancing to the copy machine! Seriously, who can say that they’ve danced to a copy machine?”

“Probably not that many people,” he mumbled, sighing after a moment, but apparently refusing to concede. “I still don’t count that as our first date. At best it was maybe a dress rehearsal.”

“A dress rehearsal?”

“Yeah, dress rehearsal,” he answered, the corner of his lips curling after a moment. “You wore that little black dress with the feather prints on it that buttoned down the front.”

You smiled to yourself as you remembered the look on his face when he first saw you in that dress. “I like that dress.”

“Me too,” he replied, pulling up to the curb in front of your building. “Hugged you in all the right places and showed just enough to make me want to undo all those buttons. It drove me crazy.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.”

“I mean, I knew you liked it, I didn’t realize you liked it that much,” you said, getting out of the car and waiting for him to reach you on the sidewalk before you walked into the building together.

“I still think about you in it sometimes,” he murmured in your ear while the two of you made your way to the elevator.

Your cheeks warmed and you bit down on your bottom lip, slinking your arm around his. “You looked really good that night too. You should roll up your sleeves to your elbows more often.”

Smirking to himself, he followed you into the elevator and pushed the button for your floor, turning to you when the doors closed. “So you concede that was a dress rehearsal and not actually our first date?”

“No way,” you answered, smiling when he groaned.

“You’re telling me you had more fun that night than on our real first date?”

“Second date.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “You had more fun that night than on our next date?”

“Well played,” you replied. “It’s not about whether I had more fun, it’s that it was so memorable that I don’t want to let it go just because there was a little blood and a couple dead bodies.”

“A little blood?”

“Okay, a lot of blood. That night is still special to me,” you answered. “Even though it wasn’t what we planned, even though it wasn’t ideal, it’s ours.”

He sighed softly, but it wasn’t until the elevator stopped on your floor and you were standing at your front door, waiting for him to unlock it that he turned to you, opening the door to let you in and said, “Okay, you’ve convinced me.”

“Yes,” you whispered, grinning as he locked the door behind you both.

“That doesn't exactly help me though,” he said, tossing his keys on the foyer table. “I can’t recreate that night.”

“You don’t have to, we can recreate our second date like you wanted —”

“Yeah, but the whole romance of it was that I was recreating our first date,” he answered.

“Oh Jim, I don't care about that. I don’t care what we do as long as we’re together. I don’t need anything fancy, I just need you.” You took off your gun and badge and set them on the counter.

“I know, but we didn’t get to spend Valentine’s Day together last year,” he said.

“That’s cause Ramirez got the flu,” you replied.

“Well, still, it’s gonna be our first Valentine’s Day that we spend together. I just want it to be special.”

Smiling at him, you wrapped your arms around his trunk, resting your chin on his chest to look up at him. “It’ll be special no matter what we do because I’ll be spending the night with you.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” he replied, seeming to let it go.

Jim had arranged the schedule so that he would be off while you only worked one shift on Valentine’s Day, which was nice enough for you. You didn’t need anything extravagant to make the day special and you certainly didn’t need the entire day. Still, Jim would not be deterred; from the moment you got home at five thirty, you were greeted with white and red rose petals that led from the front door down the hallway. Instinctively, you smiled at the gesture, but when you looked up to find Jim, he was nowhere to be seen.

The cop in you kicked in for a moment after you called out to him, but got no answer. That was unusual — even when Jim was busy doing something, he would always answer when you called out to him after getting home, and you always did the same. There was a faint sound coming from the bedroom and you instinctively pulled out your gun, following the rose petals down the hall.

“Jim?”

Still no answer, but the noise was a bit clearer as you neared the bedroom. Music. And it was a song you vaguely recognized, but still couldn’t quite make out. Using your foot, you pushed the bedroom door open and scanned the room. Everything looked normal except for the music, which you now realized was coming from the adjoining bathroom. The lights were dimmed, but you didn’t see or hear any sign of Jim, and you started to think the worst. Raising your gun, you slowly made your way toward the bathroom, using your foot again to push the door open.

“Whoa!” Jim exclaimed, instinctively putting his hands up. “Hi. Can you put the gun down please, sweetheart?”

With a sigh, you lowered your weapon. “You didn’t answer, you scared the tits off me. I started to think something terrible happened.”

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to surprise you,” he said, coming up to you. It was at that point that you realized he was wearing a bathrobe. Looking around, you saw tea candles all around the bathroom, a bucket of ice with a bottle of champagne chilling inside it and a bowl of strawberries. The tub was filled with a steaming bubble bath, and the music that played made you grin to yourself as you began to recognize it.

“Wow,” you said.

“Yeah, wow. Let’s put the gun down,” he suggested, gently taking the gun from your hand and setting it on the vanity. “And let’s get your clothes off.”

“That song…” you said as he unbuttoned your flannel shirt.

Jim smirked at you. “It’s the one that was on the radio when we were coming back from the docks the day we met.”

“I can’t believe you even remember that,” you said.

He pushed your shirt over your shoulders, kissing one while he lowered your bra strap off the other. “Of course I remember that,” he whispered against your skin, one hand going to unhook your bra to pull that off as well. “I remember everything that has anything at all to do with you.”

You shivered as he lay kisses along the side of your neck, his hands busying themselves with unbuckling your belt before he unbuttoned and unzipped your pants. He pushed them down, waiting for you to toe out of your shoes before he helped you step out of your khakis and looked you over.

“Christ, you are so beautiful,” he purred, pulling you against him.

You hummed at the feel of his soft robe against your nipples, your hands moving to the sash on the front, untying it and pushing it open to expose his bare chest.

“This is really beautiful,” you said as you pushed the robe off of him.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties. “I may have ordered dinner from that shitty take out place.”

“The one from our first date?” you teased, taking your underwear off the rest of the way before doing the same with your socks.

“Don’t start that again,” he replied, gesturing to the tub with his head. “Go on, hop in.”

The two of you sat on opposite ends of the tub, your legs intertwined while he reached for a champagne flute, handing it to you before he picked up the bottle from the ice bucket.

“How was first shift?” he asked playfully.

“Not bad. Actually pretty quiet, criminals must’ve thought to take the day off or something.”

“There’s a first,” he mumbled, pouring some of the bubbly drink into your glass before he poured himself one. Putting the bottle back into the ice bucket, he toasted with you. “Well, we have the rest of the night all to ourselves.”

“What’s on the docket?” you asked, lifting yourself a bit to pick out a strawberry for you to eat.

“I thought we could relax in the bath for a bit, and then have dinner while we watch a movie. You choose whichever film you want.”

“You’re gonna hate me,” you said with a wince, taking a bite of your strawberry.

“I could never hate you,” he replied.

“I kinda wanna binge-watch Dance Moms.”

He nodded and lowered his eyes. “Okay, I hate you a little bit.”

You laughed with the back of your hand over your mouth. “We can watching something else if —”

“No, no, it’s okay,” he assured you.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I said you could choose. I meant it.” He picked up a strawberry for himself and took a bite.

“All of this is amazing, Jim. Thank you so much.”

He smiled back at you, seemingly satisfied with himself. The hand not holding his flute grazed along your calf, his thumb gently stroking your skin as he swallowed what was in his mouth. “Look, I know you’re not one for Valentine's Day celebrations —”

“I never said that,” you answered.

“I heard you talking to Stephens about it last week,” he said. “And you’re right about one thing, we don’t need a special day to be romantic. We never have. But if there’s an occasion that gives me an excuse to pull out all the big guns, I’m gonna take it every single time. Because you deserve it.”

You smiled at him, taking a sip from your flute. “That’s fair. And you really do romance so well, it’d be a shame for those skills to go to waste.”

He winked at you. “My thoughts exactly. And I’m even willing to overlook that you’re a Valentine’s Scrooge —”

You gasped playfully, using your heels to slide yourself closer to him. “I am not a Scrooge.”

“You snarled at the Valentine’s decorations in the lobby of the precinct just yesterday,” he reminded you with a smirk. “And rolled your eyes at the guy selling flowers off of seventh the day before. Face it, honey, you hate Valentine’s Day.”

There was a brief moment of silence as you let his words linger in the air, relieved that he didn’t seem to be taking your aversion to the holiday personally.

“Okay, so I do, a little bit “ you conceded. “You know it’s just an excuse for corporate America to cash in. If you love someone you shouldn’t need capitalism to tell you when to be romantic.”

“That’s true, and I’ll admit that chocolates are always way overpriced around Valentine’s Day.”

“Yes! They know. They know people will buy them, so they mark up the prices and then sit in their gaudy mansions and laugh their asses off because not only have they just made bank off of the hopeless romantics and the saps, but also people praise them for it. And don’t even get me started on the damn teddy bears.”

“Okay, no. Please do not talk about the teddy bears,” he begged, picking up a strawberry and stuffing it between your lips. “I want us to enjoy the night together, and as much as I love watching you get all riled up, I do not want to listen to you rant all night.”

You bit into the strawberry and turned to slide your bottom between his legs, your back to his chest. “Just so you know, if I ever find myself enjoying Valentine’s Day, it’s because I’m spending it with you. Everybody else can eat a dick.”

He snorted into his champagne flute as he took a drink, trying not to spit it out. Swallowing, he pressed his nose against your hair.

“All this though,” you continued, looking around the room with a lazy smile. “All this is amazing.”

“You like it?” he mumbled into your ear.

“Mhm,” you hummed, snuggling back against him. “It’s making me think maybe Dance Moms isn’t exactly the right tone.”

“I didn’t wanna say anything, but yeah, Dance Moms — however fascinating — isn’t exactly the most romantic,” he answered. He set down his flute and gently began to massage your shoulders.

“You’re right,” you said, relaxing against his touch. “How about Breathless? You said you’ve never seen it.”

“Yeah, I could go for that.” He dropped a kiss on your shoulder as his arms wrapped around your waist. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jim,” you answered, turning your head to kiss his lips. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this, but you’re an amazing boyfriend. I’ve never been so happy.”

You felt his mustache twitch and just knew he was smiling.

“That makes two of us,” he whispered into your ear.

The two of you stayed in the bathtub a while longer, leisurely washing each other and taking small breaks to share a series of kisses every now and again. Eventually the water began to cool past the point of being comfortable, and Jim helped you out of the tub and into the shower to warm back up and rinse the bubbles off you. All the while, Jim doted on you with praises, kisses and sensual touches. Afterwards, he wrapped you in a fluffy robe that matched the one he’d had on when you came in.

He brought the bucket that held the bottle of champagne and both your flutes while you took your gun into the bedroom, setting it on the dresser. The two of you got dressed — you in a oversized t shirt and him in a pair of soft flannel pants — and went into the living room. Jim stopped off in the kitchen to reheat the takeout and bring it over to the couch before you played the movie.

After you finished eating, Jim excused himself to the bathroom while you picked up all the garbage from dinner, and poured you both some more champagne. When he came back out, he snuggled up with you on the couch, spooning you from behind and finished the movie with you.

All in all it had been one of the best Valentine’s Days you’d ever had, your feelings on the actual holiday notwithstanding. Though you had no idea that there was one surprise left.

When you walked into the bedroom later that night, there were rose petals and hershey kisses scattered on the bed, a full box of your favorite chocolates leaning against your pillow. He must have set it all up when he’d gone to the bathroom earlier. And even though you had already known it all along, you realized just how lucky you were to be with Jim Gordon.

#jim gordon fanfic #jim gordon x reader #jim gordan #gary oldman #valentines day #fluff

[justplainwhump]

Just A Fling: Invite

Written for the Peyton / Dany "Just A Fling"-AU. Peyton belongs to @wildfaewhump.

References this and this.

[Just A Fling Masterlist]

Content warnings: implied past assault (partly within a relationship), gaslighting, victim blaming; Peyton is an asshole.

The invitation card Dany can't stop staring at is settled right on top of a stack of other mail.

Business correspondence, all of that, she's sifted through it already; a signed copy of their collaboration agreement with a major freight airline, offerings from consultancies, the preprint of the upcoming issue of a logistics magazine featuring her in its cover story about their new automated container terminal. All items that should demand her attention.

All items that have ceased to exist in the instant she pulled the card from it's heavy white envelope, and all she can feel is dread pooling in her stomach.

It's a carefully designed layout, maritime imagery, golden letters in an elegant yet fancy font, all set around a photo of Peyton Montgomery looking casually stunning.

Just like Peyton had looked casually stunning leaning in the doorway of his house the last time she'd seen him, when he had shrugged and rolled his eyes at her and told her nothing she remembered was real. I think you need to take some time to figure yourself out, he'd said, and closed the door.

She hasn't even managed to get herself to hate him.

If anything, she hates herself. For accepting her defeaf, for allowing him, them, to be in control. Control of the narrative. Control of her.

It takes all of her effort to reach out for the card. It trembles slightly in her hand, as she turns it around to read its back.

The details are printed in golden letters. Party of the year. Peyton Montgomery's 30th birthday. His yacht, Davenport Marina. Next month.

It's not even a clerical error that she's receive one, not his office sending out a bunch of impersonal invites to an anonymous mailing list. No. It's personal. Dany, is handwritten on top of the card with an undoubtedly expensive fountain pen, and it makes her stomach turn how easily she recognises Peyton's handwriting from dozens of notes he's sneaked into her pockets during the few months of their affair.

Dany,. Nothing else.

It's a punch in the gut.

As if nothing happened.

No. As if what happened didn't matter.

The number next to the RSVP isn't his. She knows it from one glance, easily, because she knows too horribly much about that man.

Before she can think it through, she hits call on her phone, and his intitals light up on the display, over a photo of his hand holding a drink. Just a guy with no face. Just a casual fling. That's what they were always supposed to be. Not more.

Not less.

"Dany," Peyton answers, almost cheerfully. Dany. Just like on the fucking card. Just like she hears his voice say in her nightmares.

"What the actual fuck, Peyton?"

She hears someone talk in the background, and his voice muffled when he replies something, about wine coolers and ice cubes and tables, before he's back with her.

"Sorry, Party stuff. Event planner keeping me on my toes. You know how it is. So, what's up? Did you get the invite?"

She focuses on her hands, forces herself to stay steady. "Peyton," she presses through clenched teeth. "Are you even fucking aware of what happened at the last party we went to together? Hint, that was the one where you let your best friend spike my drink so that the two of you could have your way with me, and I wouldn't even remember."

His tone sounds like he's rolling his eyes. "Please, that didn't happen. Don't come if you're going to be a bad sport, but i thought you'd be over that ridiculous story by now, c'mon."

"Oh yeah?" Dany's fingers clench the phone, while she tries to control her breathing. To let the anger win, not whatever else it is she's feeling. "Pretty sure even Geoff remembers that different from you. Or Valerian. They - I -" She closes her eyes, trying to ban the images from her memory. Tears are stinging in the corners of her eyes. "That night," she starts again, "the two of you shattered me to fucking pieces. Nothing, nothing's been the same. I can't sleep. I can't feel safe. You took that from me. And now you expect me to rsvp to your fucking birthday party?"

The other end of the line goes quiet, the event planner shooed away.

"Fine." Peyton's voice is chilling, suddenly. "Consider your invitation rescinded. And I'll let my security know, so please don't show up and cause a scene. I really thought you'd be more mature about this, Dany. We had fun that night. You got drunk and high and scared yourself, and you've been on a crusade to blame me ever since. Don't call me again."

"Fuck you," she hisses. "I've kept fucking quiet about this everywhere, Peyton, because Geoff and you made sure your fucking lies are airtight. A crusade? That's the fucking opposite of this."

"You're lucky you're so fuckable," he sneers. "Because I certainly wasn't seeing you for your personality. Goodbye, Dany. You'll hear from my lawyers if you try to contact me again."

Dany stares at the phone for minutes, after he disconnected.

Slowly, there's something icy settling inside her and she allows it to grow; a cold rage gathering under her skin, a barrier settling over the dread and heartbreak and self loathing.

She's going to call her own lawyers, too.

But before that, she's going to make another call.

Her gaze flicks to the birthday card again. His yacht. Peyton's fucking proud of that thing, as proud as he is of his mind blowing parties.

She won't ever go on a crusade against him publicly, they both know that.

But there's one thing he doesn't know.

Her company doesn't just own commercial harbours.

She presses the button that connects her to her assistant. "I need to talk to the head of operations of Davenport Marina. About an event next month. The matter is confidential."

She'll never get back what Peyton took from her that night. He's won. But at least, she can take something of his, something that signifies more to him than she ever did.

She's going to take his party.

#past noncon cw #abuse cw #Dany Hammond #Peyton Montgomery #Dany peyton au #just a fling au

[tojivu]

what once was

a/n please PLS PLS listen to the song while reading its so good. especially the bridge. the bridge is what made me write this…. made me sit and think for a hot min. also thank you althea for proofreading again (*^▽^*) my lifesaver…. also i am finally back to my angst arc hellooooeo

warnings/tags childe x reader, angst, f!reader implied

as the wind blows against your face, you meet eyes with childe. the atmosphere is loud, with large groups of people around you chatting away and enjoying the event.

you think he looks so handsome. he is. he definitely is.

a glass of red wine sits between your middle and ring finger, as you swirl it around and take a sip.

you’re leaning against the balcony, admiring the setting sun, a reminder that the night is only starting. childe looks the happiest he’s ever been, especially considering the things you’ve gone through together in the past.

you finally initiate conversation after a long period of silence.

“you look happy,” you spoke. childe doesn’t say anything, but simply leans against the railing as well.

it’s not until you sigh that he replies to you, “i am”, that your heart gets crushed all over again.

something in you wishes he said otherwise; that he was miserable, and then he’d take your hand and run away like how you both had always done.

..but you can’t blame childe, you can’t grab his wrist and take him with you like how you did years ago—because all he’d do is shove you right off. you can’t force him to wait for you and be miserable, that would be selfish.

you’re not really happy that it’s legal to invite your exes to your wedding. it feels like a crime, just to sit and watch and eat cake, seeing his beautiful wife-to-be walk down the aisle, then watch her kiss him.

in your head, you’re still holding his hand, travelling the world and running away from responsibility. yet, your heart gets crushed every single time he says her name.

you know he’s not yours, that you’re not the girl he thinks about night and day, and definitely not the one he got on one knee for—and that’s something you had to swallow ever since he told you he found someone new. a cold realisation you can never face.

is this a cruel punishment?

“i am happy.” childe smiles, taking a sip from his own glass.

you can’t think of anything appropriate to reply to that, so you say, “shouldn’t you be with everyone else?”

“the guests? oh, no. my wife is entertaining them right now.”

you realised a long time ago that you and him were never going to work out. two young adults who knew nothing, who only wanted to have fun and never knew stability.

yet, you took his hand and ignored the fact that one day, everything would stop and you’d have to let go of these nonsensical adventures with him.

you want to slap him, or kiss him, or grab his hand and run away–but he looks so happy.

he looks so happy it makes you sick, how he could even bring himself to print a copy of the invitation and even think of sending it to you, better yet write your address and mail it.

“you guys thought of a honeymoon destination?” you try to make small talk, but the look in childe’s eyes tells you that he knows.

“you should go home, you sound really tired.”

“oh.” you smile, or at least try to, “i suppose i do have something to do tomorrow morning.”

“i’ll call you a cab?” he offers, taking out his phone from the pocket in his suit pants—and then it crosses your mind again how handsome he is.

his ginger locks swaying to the wind, blue orbs that reflected in the soft moonlight, his rough yet tender hands you once held in yours. all these things you've missed, but were never going to be yours forever.

you always caught yourself staring for far too long at him, even now, he’s all you can look at.

“yeah, that’d be good.”

you can’t bring yourself to even speak more than 5 words, and he can’t bring himself to even reply to you.

and as you both wait for the cab to arrive, he’s drinking wine and the air is empty. no one speaks and it’s as if he’s waiting for you to say something, anything.

your cab arrives minutes later, and when you get in the car, it’s like you’re forgetting something. a sinking feeling, like you left something important behind.

you’re startled by a knock on the window, and you see a familiar outline.

the window rolls down and it’s childe, with a rushed expression on his face, his hair sticking to his forehead from how he ran all the way to the car.

he says nothing, so you purse your lips—then smiling softly at him.

“take care of yourself, ajax.”

he didn’t want a goodbye.

“you too.”

yet in the end, that’s all it could ever be between you both; a goodbye, even if it was once something more.

if you reblog raiden shogun will appear in ur room REAL!!!! — 030722

#Spotify #genshin x reader #genshin impact #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader #childe fluff #genshin fluff #kaeya x reader #childe x reader #childe angst #genshin angst #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia angst #tartaglia fluff

[lost-betweenthe-pages]

Friend or Foe?

Poly!Ghostface x Deaf/HoH & Mute GN!Reader

Word count: 1,929 This is a ficlet at best but I might continue it.

Warning: Being bullied is mentioned, comfort given, being alienated/treated differently occurs, jealousy happens, anxiety attacks, found family dynamic, and Scream-related typical violence is touched on. Nothing explicit is mentioned in detail.

You’ve been a part of the group for a long time, growing up in cozy Woodsboro since you moved there during elementary school. In the beginning, you were treated like an outcast. Little kids can be so rude in that regard. Especially since you didn’t know how to act around others yet, and they didn’t know how to accept someone new. Mean nicknames flew around the school and it was hard to not cave into yourself. It came as no surprise that the friend you managed to make back then was equally a misfit.

It started with Billy Loomis. Who, as expected, took no shit from anyone. Even standing up to a group of bullies that had cornered you on the playground one day. The others followed suit when entering middle school. The second one was Stu. Who, as anyone could tell by glances alone, seemed to not care how his ‘higher stance’ in society was supposed to dictate who he hung out with. Sure, he still flaunted his money when getting the newest toy on the market, but he always shared in the excitement. The others came as followed; Randy, Sydney, and Tatum. Randy because he too enjoyed scary things and was a tad awkward. Sydney and Tatum came as a pair, best pals that seemed to not mind hanging out with the growing group. And, over time, became an essential part of the odd set.

Your hearing and voice started going by the age of twelve after getting very sick. Bacterial meningitis they said. The doctors predicted that it would only become worse as time went on, especially when your parents couldn’t afford the expensive surgery, and they were right. By the age of seventeen, you couldn’t hear or remember what you even sounded like at all. Despite this, you had your close friends to lean on. They evolved with you, learning things alongside you. It was sweet of them, honestly. Who could have asked for better friends?

Out of the entire group, Billy learned the most sign language with you. You gathered it was due to him being your longest friend — your closest bud. Stu wasn’t far behind and neither was Randy. Although Randy struggled with remembering all the ‘vocabulary’. Often mixing signs up or accidentally forgetting a word. Sydney and Tatum only knew the basics but you didn’t hold it against them. They were often busy and, especially after Sydney’s mom was murdered, you didn’t want to make it a big thing. She needed time to recover and that was okay.

Maybe it was the lack of hearing and having to focus more on sight, smell, and touch, but it was easy to notice Billy and Stu’s growing attraction to Sydney and Tatum. Hell, even Randy couldn’t hide those lingering glances at Sydney, even when Billy swept her up. Jealousy nestled in your chest but you fanned it away. You had no place to stake claim to your best friend. It did, however, come as a surprise that Stu continued to be so close with you despite dating Tatum. It felt wrong sometimes. How his hands would linger and the looks he’d send your way. Yet, deep down, you clung to those moments — cherishing the little things. It was hard to feel normal when there was no one else like you at school.

Although the bullying had stopped back in elementary school, the looks never did. The rumors only spread faster and faster as everyone aged. If kids could be rude then teenagers can be absolute devils. You could no longer count on your hands the number of times someone mocked you from behind, out of your sight. How the jocks would yell at you, knowing full well you couldn’t hear them. How the teachers gave you pitying looks while lecturing class — going the extra mile to give you a bullet printed note style copy of the discussion or writing extra on the chalkboard.

You couldn’t go anywhere without someone thinking you needed a guide, some form of assistance. Life could not be like this for eternity. You knew that and your parents knew that. All this fuss about your safety and comfort was growing weary. Sometimes you didn’t mind it but most of the time you grew aggravated by it. No one wants to be treated like a child forever.

The fact Billy and Stu didn’t treat you as a baby to coddle was refreshing. Sure, they looked out for you when it called for it. Bitching out people who mocked and yelled at you. Preventing you from becoming roadkill when you forgot to double-check before crossing the road. Making life a little easier when they order drinks and food for you while out and about — never expecting the working staff to know sign language and writing it all out took too much time. Despite all that, they goofed around and treated you like any other equal.

So, when the killings started you couldn’t help but notice a shift in their demeanor. It was hard to place exactly what it was. Excitement? Nervousness? Sure, everyone seemed on edge and constantly shifting blame to who it could be. But there was this twinkle in their eye as if they had a secret — a plan. Although you didn’t want to assume anything, or perhaps you felt a sense of fear of being right, you couldn’t help but bring it up one night. You had just finished watching a horror movie at Stu’s place, one that you’ve probably seen a hundred times now, and grabbed Stu’s sleeve before he could get up to rewind the VHS.

With a tilted head and furrowed brows, the teen signed ‘What?’

You swallowed, trying to push down the steadily growing anxiety while letting his sleeve go. ‘I want to ask a question,’ You start before looking to Billy so he knows this is directed to him too. The burnet motions for you to continue with an air of ease. You bit into your lower lips while lifting your hands again, the motion bowing and drooping with a slowness you don’t normally use. As if to exaggerate just how uncertain you are. ‘You both have something to do with the murders?’ It was meant to be a question but even you knew your expression didn't come off that way.

They both look at one another, lips moving. They don’t normally talk like this around you. Always going out of their way to include you in the loop. Seeing this display of… well, secrecy made you further uneasy. You stood up, leaving Stu on the sofa, and put your back to the tv still rolling the credits.

‘Wait, wait —’ you fan your hands, catching their gaze again. Successfully breaking the heated discussion. Billy’s eyes felt colder, distant, as they land on you. While Stu seemed fidgety, leg jittering to an unsteady beat. ‘You’re shitting me, right?’ You pause, hoping they would say something — anything. It never came. ‘Holy shit.’ Your hands stall before combing fingers through your hair. They weren’t denying the accusation. They weren’t doing anything but sitting there.

That was an answer all on its own.

You started to pace. Killers… my best friends are killers. They killed people — Casey and Steve. They killed someone they knew! Someone Stu dated! The thoughts kept coming in waves, building up the dread and fear with each new moment of clarity. You didn’t know how to handle this and started to berate yourself for even bringing it up — knowledge is key but ignorance was bliss. Then a hand landed on your shoulder and you about fell over, breathing uneven and eyes wide.

‘Calm down,’ Stu motioned to the sofa, now empty. ‘Sit. We’re not going to hurt you.’

It could be a lie, you immediately think but did as told. Billy was gone from the chair he once preoccupied and your gaze shifted around the room, but instantly fell on Stu as he crouched down in front of you. Although you wanted to jerk your hands away you didn’t as he took them in his own. His thumb rubbed over your knuckles as he exaggerated the action of breathing. In. Out. In. Out. The exhale was long and slow as you mimicked him.

Billy’s leg came into sight and your gaze redirected upward, taking him in as he held out a bottle of water and wash rag. You didn’t know what the latter was for until he started to dab at your neck. The coolness offered another solid thing to concentrate on. The bottle had been sealed, you consciously noticed, as you twist it off and down more than half of its contents.

After a few solid minutes passed you rubbed your chest, ‘Sorry.’

Stu instantly shook his head with a small smile on his lips. It didn’t suit him well. He was meant to be grinning, joking, nudging you, and dishing out all the antics.

This Stu looked sad.

Billy gently took the bottle and placed it on the end table before sitting down next to you. This was your closest, longest friend and yet you had to stop the urge from scooting away as his thigh touched yours.

‘You are right,’ Stu signed in a much slower way than he usually did. ‘But,’ he drew his fingers out long and wide, ‘We didn’t want… didn’t plan…’ he struggled to find the right word before his lips moved in what you predict to be a curse word, frustration building up on his face and how his shoulder grew taunt. You waited patiently for him to continue — not wanting to interrupt or cause further aggravation. ‘You are not involved, okay?’

Billy's finger fanned on the outskirts of your sight and you turned to face him. He quickly signed what Stu was trying to get across. ‘We don’t want to hurt you. Not the plan. You finding out, not the plan. But,’ You watched as his gaze turned to Stu's and so did yours. You caught the other nodding to the silent question. Turning back to Billy, he continued. ‘Now you know and we… we have to think on what comes next.’

Your brows furrowed as you copied the last sign, ‘Next?’ What did they mean by that? Are you now on their killing list? Was this it? Another anxiety attack was building. You could feel it in your muscles — your chest. Am I going to have to fight my friends for my life?

Billy took notice and gently grabbed your shoulder. Your wide eyes fell on him as your body jolted. Fight or flight, it didn’t matter. You were already cornered. If they wanted to kill you, Billy could easily drive a knife right into you at this very moment. A part of you envisioned how that would feel. The sharp pain, the wetness. With shaky hands you asked the heaviest question on your mind, ‘You planning to kill me?’

‘That is up to you,’ Billy answered truthfully, still calm.

Your index finger hit your chest a little harder than you wanted, ‘Me?’

Stu must have stood at some point because he was now walking into your frame of sight, taking up post behind Billy. With a casual sense of ease, his arm draped over Billy as he signed yes followed by pointing right at you.

Me… up to me…

‘What do I have to do?’

Billy’s lips quirked into a familiar grin. Although it now held a sense of eerieness to it. ‘You are with us or against us. What will it be?’

#poly!ghostface x gn!reader #poly!ghostface x reader #(my first ghostface ficlet - how did I do?) #scream (1996) #scream fanfic #lost in a story

[natashasfilms]

Chapter Two - Intimidating

Summary: While having to deal with personal issues in her life, Aria Kaul has to fight off monsters from another dimension after one of the kids she babysits goes missing.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Original Female Character

Warnings: This story contains mature themes such as sexual content, strong language, violence, mentions of alcohol and drugs, blood, gore, and death.

Note: I imagine Aria Kaul as South Asian but I have decided to let you, the reader, imagine her appearance, hence the reason why I have not given her a face claim. However, her race does not affect the story, whatsoever. You, as the reader, are free to imagine her however you want. If you don’t see her as South Asian, then that’s fine. It won’t affect the storyline.

Series Masterlist

Aria went home after the cops left, ensuring the Byers’ that she would be back tomorrow morning to help with the posters for Will. She was unable to sleep all night, constantly worrying over the little boy she loved dearly. If anything happened to him, she wouldn’t forgive herself. She was his babysitter, and although she wasn’t there that night, she’s supposed to protect the kids from any sort of danger.

She jumped out of bed early in the morning and got ready to go to the Byers’ house. She didn’t get any sleep last night and she didn’t plan on getting any until she made sure Will was safe and sound.

Her mom was in the kitchen making breakfast when Aria walked in. “Hey, mom, I’m going to Jonathan’s and we’re going to make copies of the posters.”

Yasmin looked up and smiled softly. “I made waffles if you want some on the way?” She said, “I don’t want you pushing too hard on yourself, alright? Please be careful.”

She hugged her mom tight. “Don’t worry about me, I can handle myself.” She told her, a small smile reassuring her.

“I know you can.”

Aria and Jonathan were at Xerox to print copies of the missing posters. “I think I should go to Lonnie’s. Maybe there is a chance Will’s there.”

Aria turned to him as if he’d grown another head. “No you’re not. I doubt Will is there, Jonathan. There’s no reason for him to be there.”

“Yeah but, isn’t it best to check it off the box?” Jonathan said. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’ll come with you,” Aria insisted.

“No, Ari, I should go alone. You’re already missing school and I don’t want you coming with me to…that place.”

Aria sighed. “Fine. But after we finish putting up the posters in school, okay?”

Jonathan nodded his head and the two headed towards her car, carrying the posters with them. They drove in silence on the way to their school. Aria knew everyone would be whispering and saying horrible things about the Byers. People were just terrible like that. They didn’t deserve any of that. No one did.

The two arrived and walked in. There weren’t many people yet and Aria was relieved because if she had to deal with any of the idiots she went to school with, she was sure she would slam someone into a locker.

Aria and Jonathan split up to hang up the posters. Aria went to one side of the school while Jonathan went to the other. This would be faster and it would mean they could get out of school quicker without having to deal with anyone. No one had a problem with Aria in school but they always talked shit about Jonathan and Aria would have none of that, always defending her best friend through thick and thin.

She finished putting up the last poster when she heard the familiar voice of the person she hated the most. “My dad has left town for a conference and my mom’s gone with him, ’cause, you know, she doesn’t trust him…”

Steve Harrington.

Now, Aria didn’t always hate the guy. In fact, they used to be best friends since eighth grade, up until he decided he was too good for her in the tenth grade and started hanging out with the “popular” group. Aria never understood how a good friendship of two years could go down the drain just for some popularity. She made sure to never forgive him for what he’d done. Not like he’d ever apologize for his actions, anyway.

Shaking her head, Aria walked past the group, feeling their eyes on her, and walked over to Jonathan, telling him that she was done.

“I don’t get how Kaul even hangs out with that punk,” Tommy said. “I mean, she’s too hot to even be around him.”

“Hey,” Steve said, shoving Tommy slightly into a locker. “You have a girlfriend.”

“Relax, I’m just pointing out the obvious,” Tommy said, making Carol roll her eyes. Nancy looked over at the two and decided to give her condolences to the older Byers’ boy and walked over to them.

“Hey.”

Aria widened her eyes and looked at the boy next to her.

“Oh, hey.” Jonathan spoke slowly, making eye contact with Aria.

“I just... I wanted to say, you know, um…” Nancy started saying. “I’m sorry about everything. Everyone’s thinking about you.”

Aria looked back at the group, knowing damn well they didn’t give a shit about him, and she instantly made eye contact with Steve. He was staring at her but she looked away first, not being able to look at his face.

“It sucks.”

“Yeah.”

Oh Lord, why are they so awkward? Aria thought to herself. Nancy made eye contact with the girl, wanting to say something to her before closing her mouth again. It was no secret that the Wheeler girl was intimidated by Aria. Aria was a year older than both Jonathan and Nancy and in the same year as Steve. She met Jonathan and Nancy through babysitting the boys, soon becoming best friends with Jonathan. There was no actual reason as to why Nancy was afraid of her. Aria would’ve liked to have gotten to know Nancy but it was quite impossible when she was scared of her.

“Um,” Nancy stuttered. “I’m sure he’s fine. He’s a smart kid.” Suddenly the bell rang, making everyone rush to their first class. “I have to go, Chemistry test.” Nancy spoke. “I’ll see you two around…”

Jonathan and Aria waved and watched her leave with her new group of ‘friends.’ She accidentally made eye contact with Steve again. This time, however, he was the first one to break eye contact. Aria couldn’t believe Nancy was dating Steve. He’s a literal douchebag. How could anyone be with him?

While Jonathan and Aria were in the car, Jonathan going to drop Aria off at his house so she could get her car, he started speaking. “Someone called us last night.”

Aria turned her head towards him. “Who was it?”

“I don’t know,” said Jonathan. “Mom picked up the phone and the other end was silent the entire time. She kept saying hello but no one said anything. But…”

“But…?”

“But…Mom said she heard breathing,” he said finally. “Will’s breathing. And a creature of some sort.”

“What…?” Aria softly gasped. “What happened after?”

“Then the storm fried the phone really badly. But, mom keeps saying that what she heard was definitely Will.” Jonathan breathed out. “I think this whole thing is starting to take a toll on her. I’m getting really worried about her.”

Aria turned her head to face forward, trying to make sense of what she just heard. Someone called the Byers’ home last night, Joyce picked up, she kept saying hello but no one answered, she heard breathing and insisted it was Will, and then the storm somehow destroyed the phone? Something wasn’t adding up and she had a feeling Joyce was somewhat right but without any actual evidence and with everyone so intent on not believing her, she couldn’t say anything.

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x original character #steve harrington x fem!oc #steve harrington series #reticent series #steve harrington x aria kaul #fluff #angst

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The White Dove Pt 44 - Mr Moomalade

@devilishminx328​. @theincaprincess​, @lilith15000​, @jesevans​, @jiminapickle

The White Dove Masterlist

.

“This Jenner again,” you muttered to yourself tearing open the latest of the series of letters that had been arriving in your mailbox since you had signed the deal with Stark for your jets.

The same woman who claimed her children had died in the Goblin jet attack and only had her grandson from one daughter as she was currently suing her other daughter’s husband for the money he inherited due to a lack of an updated will to say otherwise.

All of the money you would get from the jets she claimed to be hers and should be put into a fund in her family name to honor the legacy of her children out of the goodness of your heart as you were profiting off their deaths as they were the most notable of the victims within the crash. A claim that had your blood boiling as she assumed her blood to be worth more than anyone else’s involved.

At your last thread of patience you brought out your phone and took a picture of the five page photocopied hand written letter posting it on Twitter tagging the one woman who had a moniker to match that name asking simply, ‘Are you the one who keeps sending me these letters?!’ Brushing your again dyed mint hair from your face.

By the thousands the responses kicked up of people, namely the supposed hive of fans for Beyoncé, who had also died, lead by her husband and family members, who begged to differ more sensibly saying every life lost was precious, the former who were simply out for blood. Of course Beliebers and Jonas Brothers fans were enough to almost leave the streets loaded with ample shouts from the younger generations joined by older ones still mourning Madonna as well. Churning and churning the common tags and feeds from the second she posted rotated between which team of fans were on top. Until half an hour later you got followed by her so that she could reply in both a private message and a public one, ‘We should discuss this privately.’

Already your name had been circulated by the incident with the boxer and now people were referring to you as the girl who knocked him out to clarify if you were the same person. Surely jolting that video back into circulation on the trending list with joking comments on how this Kris didn’t stand a chance and chose the wrong girl to mess with.

Publicly you tagged her again and replied, ‘No, I will say this once. I’ve been publicly stalked/ harassed by fans of the man who has been charged for assault against me. I don’t need this. I don’t know who you or your children are, nor do I care to. If you contact me one more time in any form I will press charges for harassment and possibly extortion if my lawyer agrees the verbiage in your 73 letters you have sent me so far is up to par.’

You wanted to throw in a selfish money grubbing fame whore to be spiteful but a string of comments on her post to discuss it privately had already gained that. You hadn’t talked to Mr Murdock yet, but it seemed you didn’t have to as your notable connections from overseas had sent their own legal vultures into this race and had contacted you to send them copies of the letters. Through your bees the letters were scanned and sent in an email to them. While Stark in his tower by himself had his own legal team in a flurry to see how they could help out. Hourly updates from lawyers both on Twitter and YouTube had dissected the letter to give their opinions on what could be basis of terms of charges with varying opinion while the flailing grandmother who hoped to save face suddenly went quiet in her typing tirade.

.

“Okay, tickets are printed, pack a bag, we are going to Busch Gardens.” Eddie said excitedly in his pop in through your front door with a bag in hand of his own things.

“Bush Gardens?” you asked in a rise up off your belly atop your cloud couch closing the notebook of your mysterious transporter ring in a means to figure out the core workings as you were too irritated to work on your sail for fear of ruining it. “Why the trip?” you asked, sensing something was up to spring a trip on you so suddenly.

Deeply he sighed and dropped his bag on the green couch in a move to sit by you, “Riot is beyond pissed, and you need an alibi.”

Your lips parted and you asked, “He’s telling Carnage to go after her?”

“No,” he said with a wry chuckle, “He’s sending Sleeper’s Other, she’s not gonna be hurt, or the grandson, but they’re,”

“Empire toppling?”

He nodded, “Oh ya, but, good thing is no one will expect to see us there and they’ll be curious for a few moments then be left to, ‘nah, couldn’t be them’ and we can come back late Sunday, you have the weekend off. Made a list of what’s in town, not much but we can raid the wooden cubby stand of tourist traps when we get there.” He said smiling widely in a try to calm you to this change of plans.

“I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about the message.” You said and he shook his head.

“You don’t owe me an apology, not in the least.” He said taking your hand, “I know it’s your mom’s birthday.”

“Idun and Epli just left a message on a dinner they have,” you gestured to a potted plant that had arrived the day before, “Sent me something living instead of a bouquet.” And into his chest you leaned, “Thengel said he’d try to get a flight out to visit, some boat building convention in Florida,”

“Well we’re headed to Virginia, sure he wouldn’t mind the place I got for us, Scream told Venom where his Other keeps the spare key to his place out there. Apparently it’s a bit noisy, place next door is being remodeled, but it’s got land and the pictures look nice. Tons of spare space he can come too if he can make it.”

You nodded and said, “Okay, I’ll pack. How long is the flight?”

“Just an hour, could get there and at the park by noon.”

“Okay, I’ll bring my new OWLS and emergency kit in case something pops up.” Off the couch you rose brushing hands across the legs of your shorts that were visible underneath the ends of your black t shirt that read, ‘Pretty Cute For A Monster’ that matched the one you saw Eddie had on under his partly buttoned blue flannel he’d gifted you a week ago. Neon tights to go under your torn black jeans matched the yellow and black flannel you pulled on to pair with tall yellow socks mostly hidden by your knee high boots.

When your suitcase and leather tassled bag were packed you added your leather jacket, ensuring with a pat of your hand that the chunk of hive you were bringing wasn’t too bulky for the bag. Once the place was locked up the pair of you, with sandwiches in hand of the last of your deli meat, cheese and tomato that went bad by next week were snacked on. All the way to the subway you talked and kept focus away from people who recognized you. Straight shot all the way to the airport he led you and picked a self ticket kiosk to print the reserved tickets off the code in his email you carried to security.

Domestic flights at least didn’t have much security hurdles compared to international ones, especially ones lasting just over an hour. Right in time you made it to the gate and were able to take place in line to load onto the flight for the seats in the far back of the plane. Up until liftoff you kept hold of his hand. Keeping track of his racing pulse not helped to lower as he heard chatter of the Hive through Venom. “What type of car did you rent?” you asked hoping to distract him.

“Beetle,” he said making you grin, “Figured you could drive it too if I get too nauseous after roller coasters.”

“Won’t be too cold?”

“Nah, only, 48 degrees tomorrow at the lowest.” He said making you giggle and press your forehead into his arm as he chuckled to himself. “They have great deals though on winter themed stops before they shut down for Turkey day till spring.”

“Long as it lasts it’ll be fun.” Down to the safety booklet your eyes shifted at the move of an attendant into view for the back of the plane for the safety video. Barely any time was needed for the snack to be enjoyed by the time everyone got served before anxiety seemed to spike at news of arrival over Virginia.

“Maybe we could buy our own old plane to fly ourselves around,” he said making you smirk.

“Where would we park it? Have to keep it somewhere.”

“Just find you a place with room for a landing strip in the back.” Making you giggle.

“Would have to be enormous to fit a landing strip. Have to look in the Hamptons for that.”

“One day, we’re gonna have enough money to afford it. Just need a few dozen casino trips and maybe a couple years of us both online and we will be rolling in it.”

.

Baggage claim to the rental car place you kept at his side quietly reading the posters put up. Yet with keys in hand following the map your bees projected he drove the way to a gated neighborhood.

Long uneven square and rectangular stones formed the long driveway up to the square U shaped mansion of a home beyond two tarp and rubble pile surrounded homes. Red brick contrasted the white pillars and balcony to the second story with four tall domed windows around a huge window topped double front door to make it reach the ceiling to surely flood the two story entryway with light on the other side of it. Double garages were on the right with a blank wall on the left hiding what it contained to fill the space mirroring the garage space.

“Oh wow,” you said as he parked in front of the home after turning around to park facing the road. “Hopefully it’s not modern inside.”

“Oh it’s not.” He said leading the climb out of the car. Over to the lantern light mounted on the wall beside the garage doors he unscrewed the top to remove the lid that had a rotating number dial lock to a hidden pocket he rotated to bring out the keys then twisted the numbers to obscure the true code so he could assemble the lantern again.

Atop the roof over the garage stood an orange and white cat spotted like a fluffy cow who meowed and gave a butt wiggle before leaping off the roof to spring off a bush to your left. Awkwardly it bounced to the ground and you hurried over. “You okay, little guy?”

“Hey, must be a neighbor’s. Didn’t mention a cat.” Eddie said coming closer as you crouched to look at the cat.

“There you are,” the cat said making you lift up at its oddly ominous tone, “You should not be here.”

“What?” you asked stepping back to Eddie’s side instantly making him ready an arm to pull you behind him.

“What’d it say?”

“It said, there I am, I shouldn’t be here.” You said and his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Venom, that some kind of shifter?”

“Doom awaits you.” The cat said and you barely had time to translate before his arms engulfed you as the jaws split open to reveal tentacle like tendrils coated in fangs that shot out to suck you both inside the unnamed Flerken who contently trotted off.

Venom was fast to coat Eddie while back first atop a desk the pair of you slammed in the middle of a ramshackle war office jolting the men inside of it away from the desks and waft of papers into the air as Eddie’s desk split to drop him heavily to the floor. More than your back the sting in your right arm had you look to grumble at the end of the pen inside a pen holder sticking out of your bicep.

“Get up now!” was shouted by several men who had various blunt objects and scattered clearly empty pistols drawn from holsters on hips. Painfully off your back as a hand grabbed your tassled bag that had fallen to the floor beside the desk to jerk away in case it held weapons and another took hold of your shoulder. “Who are you?!” was shouted to you as a pistol was lined up at your face to another man behind him shouting at Venom who sprung up to hiss at the floor of men, “What the hell are you?!”

“Chickadee,” the pistol holding man in front of you said as you were pushed off the desk and guided to a side room leaving all pushed off the desk with you to fall to the dirty carpeted floor. Awe in his tone, like you were sent from the heavens, rippled through the room. “You do just fall out of the sky. Now you’re gonna help us!”

“Howard Stark wouldn’t happen to be here, would he?” you asked as a set of hands gripped your arms to cuff your wrists behind your back causing you to grit your teeth.

“Careful of the arm, nitwit!” you growled as Venom was nudged with sticks and clubs to another room beside yours listening closely for your warning to know when and if to attack these men.

“No one gives a damn about Stark. We got bigger fish to fry, and you are gonna get us out of this mess!” into a chair you were shoved to glare up at the man who pulled a wallet out of your bag. Camera in hand he captured an image of you, the bag, wallet and then your ID in the clear sleeve.

“You’re gonna tell me who you are, right now.”

“Shut up! We give the orders here, not you!” behind your back the snap of the cuffs were heard as you burst out to leap up and kick the man through the wall in the start of knocking out the three around you so you could collect your bag and wallet. Just a dip of a hand in the bag later and you brought out a pellet you threw in the other room. That exploded to fill the space with colorful mist knocking those men out in a matter of seconds while you held your breath.

“Venom, Eddie?” you asked exiting the room when the mist dissipated to find Venom smacking his lips having eaten the three men with hold of the empty pistol one of them had.

Closer to you he moved and you accepted hold of the gun as Eddie said, “Prop gun. Too light for an old Magnum.”

“Oh that’s nice,” you said tossing it away and accepted a folding badge Venom coughed up to read, “MI-5,” off the body of another man nearby you found an FBI badge with more sporting police badges. “What the hell is this?” They were discarded onto a nearby desk after an inspection of each.

Eddie said in lifting a calendar off a desk, “1963.” Turning your head to him across the desks between you, curiously Venom had crept out of Eddie towards you at the drip of blood on the carpet he noticed from your arm near the cuffs you had torn off. “What did the cat say?”

“Doom awaits us.”

Venom atop a desk tilted his head while an arm reached out to tap your injured arm beneath the wound. “Venom knows a Doom. They do not speak to the Hive often. Very reclusive.” His eyes narrowed, “What is this in your arm, Sister?”

“Another pen.” You said and painfully he helped to pull it out and ooze into you to help it heal faster, closing the wound and repairing the torn muscles to just leave a tolerable bruise. “Figures, guess I can start a collection.”

“Think I got one to add,” Eddie said luring Venom back to him as he pulled a pen from his thigh.

Around the desks you walked gathering papers to see if any had addresses on them you discarded after reading. “These say Belfast.” And to the windows that were covered by newspapers and layers of tape you walked to peel back an overlapping section big enough to allow a single eye to peek out.

“63, we got dropped in the Troubles then.”

“Eddie, there’s Nazis outside,”

“Oh you got to be kidding me,” he said crossing to get to your side, peeking out as you did to see the Nazi regalia decorated streets and marching forces on patrol. “So much for our No Nazi November.” As he offered you his pen he’d wiped his blood off of he said, “Now it certainly earned the name the Troubles.”

“So, fake guns, mixed forces in an office building,” against a wall crates of supplies were seen as you looked around, “No phones. Take it these are the last holdouts.”

Eddie nodded and Venom said in a loop around Eddie’s head to peer up at the ceiling of removable panels around lights that clearly had been taking turns burning out since they holed up here littered with pencils and pens on makeshift targets for sport to keep from being bored. “Doom is not here.”

“Well, might as well head down, say hello. They did want to try and employ us.” Down your back in braids down the sides of your head your hair was woven back on the creep down the steps as your bees crawled out of your bag to latch onto your hair and coat, “Should have brought my armor too,” you sighed to yourself.

.

Shifting the barricades along the entrances to the lobby, which was boarded up, was rather simple. Out into clear winter air sprinkling snow you walked, flare gun sized launcher in hand drawn from your bag to fire at the panzer on the end of the street. Hard and fast it burrowed into the side of the panzer hungrily eating its way to the warheads inside that once detonated inside the OWL you fired at it a gale force wind shattered every window on the street.

Screams from inside and from the Nazi’s now turned to look at the source of the blast warned of the brief break you had. One you used well to leap over as Venom did. To grab the closest Nazi, you to disarm and gather as much ammo as possible to start picking those far off easier to use those closer to gather more firepower and weapons.

“Chickadee!” the name was shouted by a familiar voice. Howard Stark, who was being held back by others he fought to get away from to speak to his friend.

Shouts of clearly Irish men who sprung in a fury of their own, wielding bats and metal bars, joined in to empty the street of any more threats. Bullets off the barrier your bees cast up flattened and littered the street between whips of the grappler chords used to help bend and break the clone army into brittle bloody heaps on the street. Several minutes of direct tactical moves to lessen their numbers until Venom’s victory screech that had the Irish men left standing take a few steps away.

“Chickadee,” was whispered again as you turned your head. A trickle of blood from a glass shard that cut your forehead finally reached your cheek in its bent and jagged path there. Howard Stark and Peggy Carter beside him came to a stop, eyeing the orbiting rings of bees around your body that caved inwards to coat your jacket. Every bee taking turns to crawl into your bag to power down in groups to rest while others remained on guard. “You’re not, Chickadee, she can’t do that.” He muttered to himself still moving closer as Peggy kept her eyes fixed on Venom.

“Who are you? Because,” she pointed at you, “You look like Chickadee. Except for the hair.”

“Pluto, this is Venom. Anyone care to explain the Nazis?”

Howard with his brows furrowed asked, “Do you not know? Chickadee always seems to know what’s going on when she drops in on me.”

“Okay, I’ve heard from Chickadee and she never knows what’s going on. So, Nazi’s, anybody or do I have to wait another 40 plus years and dig into SHIELD records to find out what you’re not telling me?”

That had Peggy ask, “Why would you have to wait over 40 years?”

Venom answered as you laid a hand over your face, muttering in Swedish to yourself, “We were taken from then and brought here by a Flerken one of my kin sent to fetch us.”

Howard stepped closer, clearly with hold of your yellow bolero hat and bag you had left behind in Poland held at his side, “You’re from the future?”

“And the trouble in the split of Ireland didn’t mention anything about Nazis, so are you going to tell me or do I have to beat it out of one of them?”

Peggy said, “That isn’t a very comforting notion, sending someone so ignorant on the times.”

“For fuck’s sake,” you muttered and turned as her mouth dropped open to say to the nearest Irish man, “Hey, you got any clue where the Nazis came from?”

“Aye,” the burly man said as he looked between you and Venom who turned to eye him and his buddies. “Came from England not three weeks ago. Royal family, Palace, even the ruddy Parliament has been taken over. Last we heard they invaded Australia and were being blasted best managed, then the landlines got cut and radio waves is nothing but Kraut central.”

“Okay, so we need a phone booth,” you said turning around to eye the street.

“Lass, did you not hear me?” the man asked eyeing your back.

“Nazi’s tend to be on the dumb side, good sir, haven’t met one smarter than me yet.” You said, starting to walk to a shattered booth. The warped red metal frame barely upright after apparently being rammed with something to break inside.

Howard asked, “Chickadee?” hurrying after you making the men turn to eye the familiarly named figure who came to help them out. “What could you possibly do with a busted phone booth?”

“Even the oldest models have to dig more then most are willing to dig up to cut the connection.”

Peggy, behind him, adjusted her worn trousers to get a piece of glass shaken free from above her knee, said, “Even still, the phone is clearly broken. There is no use.”

“And here I thought you were the fun one from your file, nothing but a fuddy duddy so far.” She scoffed to Howard’s chuckle.

Lowly Howard asked, as you stepped through the empty door frame to crouch at the mount where the wires had clearly been cut, settling down the pack, speaking so only you’d hear him, “How do you know Chickadee? You related?”

“You know what’s annoying? Having the face of someone who’s saved the world and the disappointment of not being the one to blow yourself up to save the world to everyone who wants to not be the one to save the day.”

“You related?”

“Different dimensions have similar people.”

“I am not a fuddy duddy,” Peggy said making you glance her way as you removed a trio of bees from your hair to settle into the wires.

“Well you certainly are gonna have to prove that one to me, now aren’t you?” you joked, then looked to Howard pointing at the hat and bag, “Kept that on ice, have you?”

“This is the last stockpile of ammunition we could get out hands on. Kept it for you. Or,” he glanced down a moment at the hat he turned in his hand to offer to you, “Tell me you’re gonna be able to help us in this? You got more to throw than a big wind and that guy.” Gesturing to Venom as you smirked taking hold of the hat.

“I’m the new Howard Stark, just haven’t broken a million bucks yet.” You said then looked at the bees that sparked up shining a key pad off their backs you dialed a number you knew well mid sound of a dial tone that had the men and Peggy crowd in disbelieving of what they had heard to be true.

“Happy Trails Caretaker cottage,” sounded through the connection widening your smile as Howard’s lips parted and the men behind you chuckled in amusement to Carter Slade’s voice coming through the line.

“Hey Caretaker,” you said widening a smile across Carter’s face, “I’m out in Belfast, you wouldn’t happen to know where Boggs is?”

Lowly he chuckled and asked, “If you got an address for me Banshee can get me out there, he’s a bit of a sour puss lately. But he’ll cave for you I’m certain.” A man outside the booth gave the address, and Carter said, “I’ll grab my things. Never did feel I got my fill of Nazis after clearing those camps. On my way.”

The bees let go and flew back to your hair and you stood, adding the hat to your head to split the crowd to get back onto the street. “Alright, so we got Nazis, all we know British Empire is, well, they’ve always been linked to Nazi’s, but at least now they’re donning the uniform. Any word on if the Queen is dead or not?”

Peggy, the one your eyes fell on answered in a turn back to face her, “Our last contact the week before last she was being held captive, same as the rest of the ruling family.”

“So we got Nazis keeping Nazis hostage. Fair enough,” Venom said for Eddie making you smirk. A burst of flames in the middle of the street turned your head to see Banshee and Carter leap out of a giant portal.

Howard behind you asked lowly, “You know him too?”

“Oh ya, best buddies.”

Rather easily once dismounted Carter took the hint of you being known as Pluto but posing as Chickadee, especially after Howard said to him, “You got to call her Chickadee, we need Chickadee.”

Only making Carter smirk and lean in to rumble back, “Howard, you don’t know the first thing ‘bout the little lady. A name is a name.” Patting him on the shoulder while more of the SHIELD allies brought maps down to help you come up with a battle plan.

The Irish called for reinforcements as you tossed a handful of expanding hornet drones who took your order and shot off into the distance. Each of them glowing furiously with the glowing substance from Ghidorah they would use to destroy any more tanks, faster than light they vanished into every direction to clear the way of at least those they could see in the open freeing up weapons and ammunition for those willing to grab them.

“Alright then, off to England it is,” you said. Leaving the table of maps inside the building you had been led into, vanishing before anyone could stop you with Venom right behind.

Peggy just had to say, “We have no way-,” in the turn of her head she asked, “Where did she go to now?” and huffed storming off to where she guessed you had gone, only to be confused on the empty street.

An engine firing up turned her head to a blocked off garage. Suddenly an army jeep littered with Nazi regalia drove through the wooden door into the street to be parked in front of her wide eyed self. “I’m sorry, you were saying, we can’t what?” Her brow arched up and you eyed Howard who had your ammo bag in hand.

“I’m coming too!” tossing your bag in the back as Carter smirked and readied to climb atop Banshee’s back to Venom adding armfuls of ammunition he had found as well into the back he’d gathered in a large sheet. More cars hidden away had been fired up and filled to the brim with Irish men hoping to help clear more of their homeland.

.

Hours you would drive only showing that it was stunningly clear until at a gas station you parked to fuel up only being stopped by a burly man who said, “And just what ya might be doing in this jeep here Lass?”

“We’re headed to the ferry to England.” You answered plainly, “Foot to your right will suit nicely.”

“Sir, we just need to fill up our tank.” Peggy said plainly only making him glare at her.

“We don’t take kindly to orders from the likes of you!” Only making Venom pop up widening his eyes that then turned to Banshee, who appeared in flames on his left giving off a frightening whinny that had him stagger away from between you and the pump.

“Thank you,” you said lifting the nozzle to add to the tank.

“Ay!” he barked and tried to take a stomp back to you only to have Venom burst out with sharpened spear like tendrils out his back screeching at the man.

“You will not harm our Sister!”

At the man while you slid the nozzle into the pump you looked to say, “Terence MacSwiney wrote, ‘It is not those who can inflict the most, but those who can suffer the most who will conquer.’ My British traveling companion is not here to enslave your people, that I know of, and will be gone as soon as we fill our tanks.”

“Tanks?” he asked then turned as you nodded your head to have him gawk at the Irish flag donning train of vehicles that had more and more joining along the way. Payment was excused and one by one the train of vehicles were leaving the station aimed for the distant ferry.

Along the way your hornet drones caught up to you and lined your hat to help your bees take up guard until the barren ferry grounds littered with dead clones was between you and the unmanned ship.

Once parked you climbed out and Howard asked, “Do you know how to drive a ferry?”

“Of course I can drive a ferry, anyone could drive a ferry, it’s big, slow and usually only goes one way till it reaches its goal. The real question is if they’ve tried to seize up the engine or left it running for the dandy SS to tote themselves and their uniform obsessed selves across the pond to meet with the Queen Mum’s shores.”

Venom was right behind you all the way up to the engine room to check the vitals of the craft while cars and bodies loaded the ship. The man who tried to stop you at the pumps asked loudly as you were neck deep inside the engine hold on the back end of confirming with your pop up lantern the engine was good. “Little Lass, just why would any of us agree to let you try and free that British Queen after what her lot have done to my kin?”

Softly you chuckled and shut off the lantern, taking hold of the sides of the hatch to pop out using a foot to close the hatch widening his eyes a moment at the quick motion that came from you with such ease. “You know, if I imagine myself a young Queen, children and family taken hostage, most likely far away from me, and someone came to take the keys to my cage from my captors. I’d be very warm to any sort of alliance with them.” Making him and others smirk as you said, “And if niceties and claims you did it out of the goodness of your hearts at the thought of a young mother and her children locked up by such heartless monsters doesn’t work, tear her husband limb from limb and mount his head on a spike. See if that loosens her up to talks of independence, her life for your lands.”

To himself the man chuckled and another asked, “Not too fond of the Princey, there, are you, Lass?”

“The man disgraced himself before his God, his wife and the world in breaking his marriage vows. Any man who lies to his Gods, his word is worthless. I wouldn’t trust a word he said to me in bartering for his life. How Liz hasn’t acted upon her lineage to King Henry the eighth and cut the whore’s head off I haven’t the faintest clue. Other way round you know he’d have her dumped off the face of the earth while she has to live with the shame of such a spineless slug on her arm. After all,” you said as Peggy’s brow lifted to Howard’s impressed chuckle, “She might just be grateful for the excuse to don widow’s smocks.”

“Now I know you’ve got to have some Irish blood in you,” another man said.

“My ancestors were Vikings, we both hail from Pagans and battled the Brits. Something close to cousins I would imagine,” making more of the men smirk as you cranked up the engine, “We’re off to invade England. All aboard that’s going ashore.” A phrase echoed down the ship to the latch of the ramp to start the path ahead while the men shared your thoughts on ways to possibly work this to the favor of their people’s independence. Piling as many bodies and supplies onto the ferry as possible to have the best odds in their favor.

.

“Where are your parents Pluto?” Peggy asked from along the wall of the control room.

“I’m an orphan.”

Howard said in a check that you were alone to just your group, “Oh come on, you can think up more fun questions than that. I have a family to pass my name and empire down through?”

“Stark Industries is still alive and kicking in the 2000’s,” you said making him grin and lift his brows to Peggy who shook her head.

“What can you tell me about my kids?” he asked with a curious grin.

“You should tell any children you have that you love them.”

“Why is that?” he asked a bit lower making you look his way.

“Because you can never say it enough.” You said making him nod understandably.

Peggy asked something he’d nearly forgot about, “And yet with his heirs to keep the name alive you are the new Howard Stark?”

Howard said, “No, no, that’s good.” He said gesturing your way, “Good that my kids have some competition. Keep them from growing complacent. Competition can be the mother of invention.”

Venom said, “For now, best we find Sister something to eat once we make landfall. She is always hungry.”

Peggy stated, “Chickadee said the very same thing.”

“We have the very same metabolism, burn nine times what we should.”

Peggy asked, “Why would anyone send you here, clearly you are a child still. You have no powers.”

“You seem to be under the impression that I am not magnificently terrifying,” you said making her brow arch up as shouts sounded to the sight of land was growing closer. “Because if anything to those men out there between the two of us they’re more pleased to have me here than you. Someone with this face is known for blowing themselves up to save the world, remember?”

“That is a highly illogical mode of thinking. One’s reckless urge to sacrifice themselves is a moot point. My country is lost.”

“Ya and how’s that feel?” you asked dropping her jaw, “Kingdom of colonizers? Doesn’t mean it can’t be won back, but it does mean this should never be forgotten. To know something and experience it yourself are two completely different things.” Patting a hand on her arm you passed her by, “For now, I have a dock to clear.” Howard was told how to shut the ferry down and how best not to crash it beyond further use if he didn’t stop smoothly at the dock.

Running leap didn’t come close. Ten feet from the dock with Venom at your side you sprung off the ferry with metal grappler chords wrapped around two of your daggers to make wide swings and easy clearance of the guards of the waterway who were not warned of the arrival of a ship from Ireland.

Blood soaked and wiping the daggers off with a torn bit of uniform from the dead, the gate by you was opened to signal the drop of the ramp on the ferry to let the cars and men loose while your hornet drones were off again to clear this new country.

In lines they drove off the ramp to fill the street beyond the dock in wait for Peggy and Howard in your stolen Jeep to lead the way. Up into the window frame as they drove by you hopped to sit sideways in the open air atop the metal opening. Enabling easy use of the rifle Howard had hidden for you to knock off stragglers all the way to Buckingham Palace. Bullets and flaming blasts from Carter’s gun cleared the way, ensuring each and every Nazi flag and banner were left smoldering in your wake and town after town of frightened but curious bodies that crept out of their hiding places to see what was going on.

London, while mostly clear only added to trouble and had Venom spring out to clear road blocks so that you wouldn’t have to so much as slow down or swerve. And soon enough inside the body filled courtyard the cars were parked to let everyone out to peer up at the Palace. Low and quick to the door you and Venom rushed to both pick the lock and snap the necks of more guards to be hurled through the open doors clearing out the last of the stragglers. Waves of all clear then had the others file inside the grand estate.

.

“Now lads, all nice like we will be watching this castle for our benevolent monarch.” The man who you’d spoken to earlier spoke with a smirk to your back as you strolled to join others in search of the castle for hint of where the Royal Family might be. “Not so much as a boot print on the couches. Keep it nice and tidy for her till we come to terms.”

“If I had a Queen hostage, where would I keep her?” you asked yourself in a walk through an empty hallway, or at least so you thought. Inside the wall a panicked heartbeat had you tap a knuckle on the decorative wood panel on the lower half of it stirring up a gasp terribly muffled behind hands. “Whoever is in the wall, we’re American. Do you know where the Queen is being kept?”

That had a latch sound after a few calming breaths and through the crack of a secret door to a tunnel a young teenage girl who had been kept to keep up with the fireplaces locked her eyes on your blood splattered face. “I heard the officers mention Balmoral a few times.”

“Scotland, another castle, figures.” You said and Venom offered her a hand she looked at. “He won’t eat you, he’s a big softie.” You said nudging his side luring a flinch of a grin on her lips and her hand to come out. “Live nearby?”

She nodded and said, “Two squares over, the officers, were killed by exploding balls of light, exploding fireflies is how I can describe it.”

“That’s alright, it’s magic. I go by Chickadee, and I promise we’ll get you home safe, what’s your name?”

“Lillian, Portsmouth.”

“There’s a good deal of men here but we’ll get you home safe.” She nodded and back through the palace she was shown and kept close to you and Venom at the crowds of eyes on the men who had also rounded up a few other male workers who seemed to not know a thing. “Lillian here heard the officers say Balmoral. We can check that next on the way to take her home.”

The leader of the men nodded and said, “Young Lass, none of my men will lay a hand on ye, and anyone gives you a cross glance give us a shout and we’ll show them straight. Just minding the throne while Her Highness is hidden away.”

“Now where is a bathroom,” you sighed to yourself and found the nearest guest bath where Eddie in Venom’s ease back helped to gather towels to soak and help you clean up. In the silence you eyed your blood stained leather jacket and bag far beyond use after this if not cleaned by a specialist who would know how to get blood out of them. Sure to cost hundreds and enough to have you draw back the top half of your rinsed and mostly towel dried hair into a braid to help keep it in order. Turns for the toilet were stolen and like the others the expansive kitchen was the next stop while others outside had taken turns in each vehicle to refill their tanks.

Peggy already had one of the ovens under her use and seemed rather proud of her mushroom sauce she dolled out to many who asked for some. Though several times at her warning of overcooking the meat you found to go with the supply of warmed veggies from a mountain of empty cans and fresh baskets of produce everyone took ample of her frustration seemed to bubble as you ignored her. A matter of preference to not pink meat that Howard took notice of as another similarity, yet Carter and Venom gladly doubled the preference with their own bits of meat they had chosen.

Cross legged in a corner inside the hall to let others cook their own food you sat down with the two men, daringly refusing her offered sauce that led to her new glare cast your way from the other end of the hall. Mid discussion with her fellow agents mentally she raged at the blatant refusal of her help and special sauce that tapped on a deeper frustration she had for the one whose likeness you bore.

.

Like others you washed up your dishes and guided Lillian to your vehicle dropping her off with a smaller group of male workers while a hoard remained behind to keep guard on the Palace. “Where is Boggs again?” you asked Carter as she hurried inside and he nodded his head leading the way to the city the Rider had been keeping contained himself.

In the middle of the street a colorful bright yellow Symbiote screeched and bounded to take hold of the jeep to join in with three more that would join in along the way.

Peggy finally breaking her un-verbalized irritation said, “Somehow Chickadee has the impression Steve is the reason James Barnes is dead.”

Looking at her you asked, “That’s what the whole frustration with me is? Seriously? Here I thought it was because I was stepping on SHIELD’s toes by tackling the Nazis.”

“Steven is not responsible for Barnes’ death.”

With a brow arched up your hand shifted on the wheel to look at her pointedly using the bees to help you keep the jeep straight on the road. “Bucky’s not dead,” you said dropping her jaw, “And I’ve seen the memories he has of how he fell off that train. He taught me how to protect myself. Just because you want to think the best of Steve since you have the hots for him,”

“I do not,” she said and you rolled your eyes. “Steve is a hero!”

“Steve has almost killed me personally with his shield three times while he tried to save the day. Not to mention him knocking a bomb into a subway station loaded with children and myself for a staggering fourth.” Wide open her jaw fell, “Your hero has tunnel vision and doesn’t care how many civilians he kills in the process of saving the day or how ruined the city is left when he says job well done. Had Bucky not been guinea pig to Dr Erksine’s Super Soldier Serum while held captive as a POW he would have died from that fall. And to this day Steve since I told him Bucky isn’t dead he’s been using me as a sort of life raft and only concerned about my safety because I’m the only one who has the guts and the common sense to be able to find where he’s being held. So don’t you go spouting off that you know who the man is when he was aiming to put a ring on your finger while he’s Dr Jeckel to everyone else he isn’t remotely romantically attracted to or finds useful.”

Howard leaned forward as you looked forward again with lips pursed a moment after that outburst to ask you, “Steve’s alive?”

“Stark Industries has his codename in their system as Capsicle. If you look it up there’s actual research on dropping people’s temperature that preserves bodily function that when warmed up gradually and safely there can be little side effects.”

“Why would Barnes teach you to protect yourself?” Peggy asked still reeling at your words.

“Have you seen my face?” you asked, “You know who I look like.”

“Why are you so hostile about Steve?” she asked.

“He’s almost killed me four times, and, still, hasn’t apologized. The last time knocked a bomb at me and other children. Honestly, are you kidding me? Not everyone falls for his pathetic tries to bat his blue eyes your way like a giant puppy begging for affection.”

“He does not bat his eyes,” she tried to say but Howard cut her off.

“Ya he does. Seen it myself.”

“He does not!” she said to Peggy.

“You’re married.” You said to Peggy dropping her jaw again, “With children, you no longer have the right to defend your ex to me when you don’t have the faintest clue who he is now. You are married, you chose your team and your loyalty you can’t bat both sides over a ghost of a man you knew two decades ago.”

“You can’t tell me-,”

You cut her off, “Your brother is alive by the way.” You said making her voice crack. “You should shift your focus on finding him instead for his child’s sake.”

“Michael’s alive? Where is he?” She asked softly.

“Now that would spoil the process, eyes on your own paper.”

“And what is your issue with mushrooms? First you ruin your meat by over cooking it and then you refuse the mushroom sauce I made.” She asked defensively after a deep breath.

“I get ill when I eat mushrooms, and I don’t eat meat that is bleeding. The supposed love of rare meat is a preference and if you marinate the meat it isn’t dry no matter how cooked you eat it.”

“Still, I made the sauce.”

“I prefer to not die, you know, while eating. I already had to grow up in a facility where they incorporated toxins and poisons into our meals to build up our tolerance, so when I say I don’t eat something, I would rather go hungry than eat something I know will possibly kill me.”

“Who fed you toxins and poisons?! Your parents?!” she asked making you glare at her.

“My parents wouldn’t ever hurt me. You don’t need to worry about the rest of it. Too late to jump in and save me, Venom keeps an eye on me now.” You said hearing another body bound onto hold of the jeep to talk to your brother on top of it in conference to see if they knew where Doom was hiding out.

Howard asked, “What’s the deal with Venom? He’s missing a nose, and ears, and eyes.”

“He’s a bit like a snake, tongue helps with smell and his ears are hidden. His eyes are the white patches on his face, he’s let me take scans they’re like bee and fly eyes, it’s all his eye.”

“He eats people, and has those, things that shoot out of his back.” He stated.

“His body morphs to shape how he needs it, and, well there’s always been cannibalism in various cultures throughout history. He needs a great deal of food to power him and Nazis are a rather calm compromise for people to be able to eat. He doesn’t just snatch people off the street, but if a criminal happens to come across him causing trouble or harming people he’s a great person to run into for help.”

Howard chuckled saying, “Just happens to eat people occasionally.”

“Exactly,” you said cheerfully then had to ask, “Gotta ask, that huge glowing sign outside the Stark Expo lot who chose the red pulsing lights?”

“Contractor said it would be the brightest ones they had, why?” he asked curiously.

“Twenty birds die a year trying to nest on that sign, you really should change them to have domes around the lights or something if you want to keep the red. They produce too much heat and especially rarer bird breeds love the location and they should be protected.” You said and his brows raised a moment.

“I will remember that,” he said watching the Symbiotes leap off the roof to spring into action at the road block ahead, uncertain exactly why that would be important for him to know about the future.

.

On the cusp of your second sunset through a town without sight of any Nazis at all people on either side of the convoy of vehicles and Banshee’s casual flame free trot down the street a pub was found. Needing to stretch your legs and use the bathroom you parked and hopped out to take Carter’s side making him smirk and rest a hand on your back. “See you calmed Mrs Peggy down.” Making you giggle to yourself.

“Oh she’s fine, old flames are hard to put out.” At the door he took hold of the handle to open it for you and guided you through into the pub where heads turned in the exception of one at the bar to whom the bartender looked. Between the bodies and tables you passed to get to the bar to lean on it facing the stoic man who eased his eyes off his shot glass to land on your grinning mint haired self. A bit to the side he shifted, straightening up to look you over.

“You’re the one behind the flaming bugs,” behind you his eyes darted up to Carter then back to you as you lifted a hand he raised a hand to accept yours.

“Heard a lot about you, Mr Coinen.”

“You as well.”

“Well Carter can fill you in, have to use the bath, be right back.” Hands were released and you trotted away towards the clearly marked hall for the toilets that had a crowd of heads turn to follow you then look back to the two men.

“Brought Chickadee, I see you’ve kept your city fairly clear. We’re headed to Scotland and she wanted to meet you and no hard feelings if you’re not up to taking on some Nazis to rescue the Queen and her rugrats.”

That had Boggs’ brow arch up, “You and her are going after the Royal Family?”

Carter chuckled, “Chickadee might have encouraged to use the family as a bargaining chip to gain freedom for Ireland.”

That had Boggs chuckle and lift his glass in a mock toast, “Oh that is certainly just how you described her,” drinking from his glass he lowered mid swallow to keep their chat going on how the country on the way here looked outside of Boggs’ territory to know what he might be facing.

Falling silent as you came back into view to lean into Carter’s side, then Boggs said to you, “Heard you’re after the Queen.”

“Yes, it seems Venom’s friend Doom sent a Flerken to fetch us.” He lifted a finger and you said, “Venom’s outside, never met Doom myself yet, and a Flerken apparently looks like a cat but its mouth sort of explodes with teeth covered tentacles.”

“Ah, Rider knows that one.” He finished off his drink and patted the bar, “Be back Bernard, shouldn’t take long. Keep an eye on town for me.” Outside the pub he took Venom’s hand as he was on his way to check on you, the latter who named the other Symbiotes. A whistle called a second horse from its phantom phase and they both mounted up to lead the way to Scotland as you let Peggy drive to give you a rest.

Seated in the window frame however the closer you got, rifle in hand, you cleared the guard stations for the riders to blast the arms blocking the road. Off the hood of the jeep your hornet drones shot off again as you angled to shoot another body in the distance patrolling a panzer one of your OWLS rounds blew up in handling the explosives inside.

.

Towns finally came into view, and out on guard at a gas station a smile split across your lips as the men from other vehicles scavenged the town for food the Nazis had hoarded from the locals who were frightful of who was now invading their town, passing the clone bodies by that littered the city.

“Look at you!” you said and were seen by a smiling Shepard who was guiding his herd of sheep back from the pen the Nazis had taken them to. One of which was pregnant you neared shouldering your rifle to stroke the curious sheep’s face. “Aren’t you just magnificently ready for sheering come spring time!” contently the sheep grunted and sighed while other sheep turned their heads to smile and proudly listen to your compliments to each of them. “I bet this is the finest of wools you are growing here. So magnificent, and I bet your little ones are going to be just as strong and capable to such a fine task of growing the finest of wool.”

“Chickadee,” Howard said, having come to check on you after noticing you were gone. “Found some food. You can leave the little guy be.”

“This is a female actually.”

“Got horns, only boys have horns.”

“He also happens to pregnant then.” You said making his brow arch up as the Shepard chuckled at your parting compliments to the herd who turned to follow him again. “My dad said he’d buy me a sheep one day when I was older before he passed. I am getting me a sheep one day. What’d you find?”

“Mainly fish and potatoes. Little old lady is frying them up for us. Peggy is cracking the radio box we found to let the town know Nazis are gone and they can come to ration the food we don’t eat.”

“Just make sure we don’t eat more than our share. Don’t think this town has much to spread across new dozens.”

.

“Psst, hey,” you said and were seen hopping out a window to go to a fence with a line of birds on it who turned to look at you as you collapsed, tangling your foot in a hidden dip in the ground. Up again you popped to hurry to the fence.

Howard muttered, “First the sheep, now birds.” Then he said louder, “Chickadee.”

Venom leaning forward down the side of the jeep dangled his head in view of the window to tell him, “Sister can speak to animals. She is bartering for information for our battle plan.”

Peggy asked, “She talks to animals?”

Back from the fence you turned as the riders became solid again after their own sleuthing ride beyond the gates, tripping once again to hop up and come back to the car. “Guard stations are clear, but there’s still bodies patrolling on the west side. Birds say horses have seen their riders wave from higher windows overlooking the stalls recently.”

.

The outside was easy to clear and down a hall you walked, having cleared that wing of any sign of the Royals, while Symbiotes cleared wings and floors around where you were tasked to clear. By chance out a window you looked and said, “Venom, it’s the same cat!” Right behind you he morphed and turned as you did to dart around corners and bodies.

“Chickadee!” Howard shouted, “Where are you going?!”

“Flerken outside!” you called back.

Darting back into the early morning air of your fifth day in the past aimed towards the stables where the cat was aimed making the inventor huff feeling a familiar feeling. Pastures and stalls found the both of you bounding and racing about looking in the tall grass and hay alike while Banshee and Boggs’ steed mingled with the horses who said they hadn’t seen the cat you were searching for.

Boggs turned your head as he peered up at the barn, “Pluto? We have another sibling of yours.”

Bright turquoise with white markings and what looked like bunny ears and paws like a giant squishy Easter Bunny the Symbiote smiled flashing his teeth to you and Venom looking up at him. “You wouldn’t happen to be Doom, would you?”

“We would.” He said hopping down to stand up on his back legs peering down at you and Venom showing off his more slender toned figure proving to resemble a bunny even more.

At your feet the orange and white cow patterned Flerken meowed circling your feet urging you to bend and lift it up to peer at you with another meow. “You just tearing us away like that was not very nice.”

It meowed again and Doom reached out to scoop his feline shaped friend into his front paws for you to let him go. The Symbiote stated, “We apologize, another Flerken freed the invading forces here from another dimension. Only Venom’s Sister could aid in their destruction.”

Carter asked, “Are you able to send them back?”

“Oh yes,” Doom said with a wide smile. “Mr Moomalade?”

“What?” you asked at the Flerken opened his jaws freeing the tentacles that had Venom latch onto you again.

“We’ll mind the Queen for you,” Carter assured you before in a goopy mess of tentacles you were sucked into the creature’s jaws.

Pt 45

#Escaped Child Assassin #Extortion #Goblin Attack Backlash #Matt Murdock #Eddie Brock #Venom #Alibi #Flerken #The Troubles #No Nazi November #Pen collection #Howard Stark #Peggy Carter #Doom #Carter Slade #Ghost Riders #Marvel

[the-lincyclopedia]

8, 13, and 15 for the book asks?

8. what is the first book you remember reading yourself?

Yes! I was hoping someone would ask this! I did not learn to read in kindergarten; I was late to the party and learned in first grade. I knew the alphabet and could sound stuff out, more or less, in kindergarten, but actually reading a book? Nope. And I went to a Montessori kindergarten, so no one forced me to read when I said I'd rather do math or draw or stack blocks or wash the tiny little child-sized aprons we had in the classroom or do literally anything other than reading.

It might be normal at a lot of schools for kids to show up in first grade not really knowing how to read, but I went to a magnet school for gifted kids for first through eighth grades, and I was very much the odd one out, in a bad way, for not knowing how to read when I arrived. (If you're wondering how I tested into the school, the test was all visual pattern matching.) I was placed in the second-lowest reading group in my class, and I struggled for much of the year because it was hard for me to understand instructions when teachers wrote them on the board, or to copy down things we were supposed to copy down from the overhead. It sucked.

And then, in February of first grade, it was like a switch flipped in my brain. I could read! All year I'd been struggling through Dr. Seuss books and other picture books without much success, but that February, I read the first Boxcar Children book in three days. It was glorious, and for the next several years I read in almost every spare minute. Once I figured out how, I loved reading.

13. do you have a goodreads?

Nope! I've barely even visited the site, and honestly I'm not planning on changing that anytime soon. I want to be an author, and I think it would be too easy for me to look up my own books on Goodreads (someday, if I ever get published) if it was a place I frequented. I believe fervently that authors should stay far, far away from their own books' Goodreads pages, so.

15. recommend and review a book.

Okay, I just read I Kissed Shara Wheeler like a week ago, so here goes: I've had a lot of trouble reading print books for the past several years due to school-related burnout, to the point where the number of books I was reading was in the low single digits for the past few years, until I got into audibooks. And those have been great! But they still haven't made print books much easier for me--they haven't magically gotten me back into reading with my eyeballs, haven't re-flipped that switch from first grade.

So when I say I read I Kissed Shara Wheeler in print, nearly all of it in one day, I want you to understand how much that means.

Most of the books I do read are YA, and I've often been frustrated with the number of YA books that treat the academic side of high school like it's a.) an afterthought and b.) easy. I firmly believe I did the best academic work of my life in high school, for a lot of reasons, despite the fact that I went to college, and academics completely dominated my life the entire time I was in school. It was so refreshing to see characters like Chloe and Shara who were super smart and being genuinely challenged by their high school curricula and doing genuinely high-caliber academic work that was shown, on the page, with a decent amount of depth.

But it's not just that. It's so many other things. It's how incredibly queer the book is, including in ways that are surprising and that Chloe definitely doesn't see coming. It's how there's something surprising about basically all of the characters. It's the sheer number of characters and the way the author handles the ensemble cast. It's the way that Georgia feels like a realistic best friend and has her role honored as such even though there are at least four characters who get more screen time. It's the theater nerdery. It's how everyone has to change their mind about something, or realize something important. It's the unlikely alliances across the high school social structure, some of which blossom into amazing friendships or romances.

Most of all, it's the way the author pulled off what I was very convinced, two-thirds of the way through book, would be impossible. See, by two-thirds of the way in, I was pretty sure I knew the basic outline of how the book would end, and I felt like that ending wouldn't be earned, and I would hate it, and I was so disappointed in the author for shoving these characters into that plot, when I'd liked their previous two books so much. And then the plot did go in that direction, more or less, but with a bunch more revelations that I hadn't counted on, which together were more than enough to change my mind, and by the time I got to the end, I was very convinced that the ending I'd seen coming was earned in ways I hadn't anticipated.

Also: Smith Parker has my whole entire heart.

Get in on the ask game!

#a lin original #ask game #books

[theladyinwhite13]

hello i am here to rant sorry your inbox is my personal diary btw

so you remember the business thing my school is having us do? well my teacher said no fries and no food(?) so we thought maybe we could make keychains and i was like i have a resin printer and one kid suggested we make moai keychain but with little hats and i was like ?? but sure, so they make the 3d model which was shit so they had to keep remaking it (i couldve fixed it but honeslty i was already doing all the work and i didnt want to) but fine it was ugly as fuck but whatever so i start to print it and the fucking thing was gonna last 4 hours so i went to a party while it printed (obvs) and i didnt check until today morning and i found that nothing was printed!!! so i started crying and no one would help me and everyone ignored me and they were just like and i and ahhhh and i had to deal with it alone but then i had to go to church so i couldnt do anything and everyone was furiously texting and calling me but i was at church!!! my mom got mad at me!!! so finally i get home and my dad starts helping me and my parents try to tell me everythings gonna be fine and its not my fault and i should be the only one dealing with it and theyre right but uwehuvuiqaeqfvhfj and we fucking realize my printer is fucked for some reason so we had to change it last minute and we remembered the teacher had said we could sell water bottles with stuff on it so we thought hey maybe thats it so we looked for someone who sold wholesale on the same day and we found a guy and he just wouldnt reply like sir are you running a bussiness or not, and then since i live nearby the fucking guy i had to pick them up but he never did reply so i didnt, and someone in my team ended up buying a random one at the store, so then i said i had a cricut and we could do something on it and i thought well i only have red and black vinyl we could do an I ❤️ BLANK (i wanted to put ur mom on it) thing but every ignored me!!!!! and instead they made the ugliest moai design ive ever seen in my life!!!! and they made it wrong!! and they wouldnt believe me they were like its fine!! but its not and im telling you i know how this works!! and everyone ignored me so by the time i had to cut it it obviously ripped and it wouldnt work and i told them their design was shit so i made the design i wanted and then one has the guts to say oh i figured out the problem its this and that but NOOO IT WASNT THAT I ALREADY TOLD YOU WHAT THE PROBLEM WAS AND YOU IGNORED ME!!! and then it seemed like he finally undertood (partially) so he tried to fix it but its the ugliest thing i have ever seen in my entire life and they had me all this time ignoring my ideas and making everything but only if they came up with it of course cause my ideas are shit obviously and everyone is so smart but me and and and im so tired of being ignored and looked down upon and being their bitch and me just taking it and these guys are supposed to be my friends and and im not crying to summer child by the way im just so so tired of being ignored

sorry i just anyway i love you

fuck. I’m sorry, you don’t deserve that and it’s messed up that anyone would ever think you weren’t smart, bc I swear to god you are SO SMART!!!! I’m trying to think of something more comforting to say but honestly it’s just really shitty that they think any of this is okay and not to copy your parents but IT IS GOING TO BE OKAY AND IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT!!! i wanna hug you so much! please just remember to be nice to yourself 💜

#you’re always welcome to rant to me k? #you never have to apologize for it