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roosterforme · 1 year

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Stay on Your Knees | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley messes up again, he’s more than willing to beg.

Warnings: Angst and Smut

Length: 2300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for an anonymous request!

Check out my masterlist for more.

You loved your boyfriend, but you hated it when he was like this. You were a wallflower, and Bradley Bradshaw was the center of attention. The ringleader. The main event. Once again he had invited you to the Hard Deck to hang out with his friends, and an hour in, he'd all but forgotten you were even there. You sipped your cocktail and watched him circulate around the room with the other aviators, never even turning your way to check on you. You watched as a girl you had never seen before placed her hand on his shoulder as she laughed at something he said. He leaned a little closer, and she looked absolutely delighted. You knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end of his flirtation. It was exhilarating. But shouldn't he have been saving that for you?

A deep sigh escaped you as you finished your drink and set the glass down on the bar. You had given him so many opportunities, had so many conversations about this, but he didn't seem to care. When he was alone with you, he was sweet and attentive. But when you got him in a group, he was the opposite. He was naturally flirtatious and couldn't seem to reel it in for you. And now that he was enjoying the limelight, playing Great Balls of Fire on the piano, he wouldn't have known if you'd vanished an hour ago. You'd chatted more tonight with Phoenix and Bob than you had your own boyfriend. It wasn't that you didn't like Bradley's friends, because you really did. But it would have been nice to have a little attention from him, even if he just checked in once in a while. That's all you had asked him to do. Then suddenly you saw him hugging another girl, and when he released her, you recognized her immediately. It was his ex-girlfriend, Josie. You tried your best to chat with Bob about some new movie he had just seen, but you were getting more and more upset. Bradley had spent almost ten minutes talking to his ex. Just as you hopped up from your barstool and started to make your way over to him, he turned in your direction. He was making his way over to you. Finally. "You having fun?" he asked, brushing a kiss along your temple. "Yeah, I just missed you," you said, taking him by the hand. "I'm going to grab another drink and head over to play some pool. Come join me if you want, okay Josie?" He grabbed his fresh beer and turned away from you, heading off to play pool. He had just called you Josie. And he hadn't even noticed. You gaped at him from across the room as he took a pool cue from Josie and paired up with her to play. She leaned down to take a shot, and he smiled at her when she glanced up at him. "I'm leaving," you muttered to Bob, and you reminded Penny to put all of your drinks on Bradley's tab. Then you grabbed your jacket and walked out onto the beach. It was only about a mile back to Bradley's apartment where your car was parked. You decided to walk along the beach, and soon you felt tears overflowing from your eyes. Your trembling lips gave way to sobs as you started running down the hard packed sand along the surf. He was never going to change. You needed to grab your things from his place and get out now. ------------------------------------------------- Bradley shot some pool for a while. It seemed like everyone he knew was here tonight. His friends had gotten him to play piano for them, while they sang along. And now Josie was flirting with him, but nothing was going to happen there. His beer was empty again, and he was going to grab another one. "Hey, Bob, you need another?" he asked his friend, but Bob shook his head. "I'm gonna get one more and then head out." "Your girl already left, man," Bob told him with a frown. Bradley looked around frantically, trying to spot you. "She did? She never told me she was leaving. How long ago?" Bob shrugged. "Almost an hour?" Bradley felt his heart plummet. "An hour ago? Fuck!" He went to the bar and quickly paid his tab before rooting around in his pocket for the keys to his truck. When he got to the parking lot, he called your phone. No answer. He shot you a text asking where you were before calling you again. He couldn't reach you, and now he was panicking. Fuck. He'd done it again. He always got carried away and forgot to check in with you when you were out with him like this. He was so focused on you when it was just you two together, but after a few drinks he always got distracted by everyone else. He knew you just wanted a little bit of his attention, and he always seemed to fuck it up. "Wow, you're such an ass," he mumbled to himself as he climbed into the Bronco and started driving home. He knew your car was parked at his place, so he headed there. --------------------------------------------------- You were grabbing your things and shoving them into plastic shopping bags. You stuff was all over Bradley's apartment, and you wanted out before he got back. The run along the beach had made your head even clearer. No matter how many times you talked to him, he wasn't going to listen. When you stopped in the bathroom to collect your things, you rinsed your sandy feet off in the shower. Then you grabbed your shampoo and body wash and headed back into the bedroom. You really wanted to take Bradley's soft shirt that you liked sleeping in, but instead you balled it up and threw it viciously into the corner. "Fuck this," you announced to the bedroom, before turning back to the living room and grabbing your plastic bags full of stuff. Just as you were about to put your wet shoes back on, you heard a key in the door and froze. You thought you would have had more time. Bradley flung the door open and darted inside, his eyes immediately finding yours across the room. He looked at the bags in your hands and asked, "What are you doing?" You tossed your chin up in the air. "I'm leaving, asshole." Bradley closed the door and walked toward you. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry I was a dick to you tonight. Please stay. Please don't go." He sounded so sincere, and you could feel your lip trembling again, but you held it together as you tried to dodge around him to the door. "No, no, no," Bradley begged, backing up until he was fully blocking the only exit. "I'll be better, baby. I promise." "You promised me that last time. And tonight you called me Josie!" Bradley's eyes went wide and his mouth hung open, but no words came out. "Get out of the way," you told him, trying to get to the doorknob. "I didn't mean to call you Josie! I didn't even know I did that, baby! I'm sorry!" You stomped your foot when he wouldn't move for you. "Maybe if you paid me the tiniest bit of attention instead of hanging off your ex for the night, you wouldn't have called me by her name! Now get out of my way, Bradley!" You watched as he dropped to his knees in front of you. "Please. Baby, please stay. I'll do anything." His words sounded so sincere, and his brown eyes were clear and pleading with you. "I need you. I love you." Your heart squeezed in your chest. He was always like this when you were alone. This was when you always had his full attention. "How am I supposed to trust that you'll be better?" you asked. Bradley reached for your hips, pulling you closer to him, and you dropped the bags to the floor. You stepped into his grasp, and he looked up at you from his place on his knees. A gasp escaped your lips when he reached for the bottom of your shirt and inched it upwards, placing a soft kiss just below your belly button. "I'll be so much better, baby. I will." You bit your lip, and he started to push up from his kneeling position. "No. Stay on your knees." He froze before settling back onto both knees, looking up at you with burning desire as he sucked in a deep breath. "Okay, baby. You tell me what you want, and I'll do it." He squeezed your hips, and you felt powerful with his huge body in front of you like this. "I want you to say my name over and over and beg for me while I get undressed," you whispered, and Bradley's loud groan echoed throughout the living room. He watched your every movement and whispered your name along with a chorus of Please, baby as you pulled your shirt off. When he tried to help you by unbuttoning your denim skirt, you slapped his hands and moved them out of the way. Bradley bit his lip before whispering your name a dozen times as you slid your skirt down your legs and stepped out of it. Now he was practically panting as you towered over him in your matching bra and panties. "Next time we go out to the bar, what are you going to do?" you asked softly, reaching around to your bra clasp and undoing it. You let the straps slip down your arms, but you held the cups in place against your breasts, awaiting his answer. Bradley licked his lips. "I'll stay with you the whole time, baby. And if you don't want to go out, we'll stay in for the night. I just need you." He swore under his breath in that raspy voice as you let your bra fall to the floor. When he reached for you again, you slapped his hands again. He groaned and raked his fingers through his hair as he watched you start to shimmy your panties lower on your hips. You stopped when the fabric hit just above your slit and asked, "And what's my name?" Bradley chanted your name like an oath, his eyes roaming over your face and your breasts before falling lower as you let your underwear fall to the floor. He was licking his lips, and you could tell how badly he wanted to touch you. But you felt powerful now. You never usually did this kind of thing to him. Maybe he needed to see you in control for him to understand how serious you are about leaving him if he doesn't shape up. "Do you want to fuck me?" you asked him softly. He moaned and tipped his head back, his Adam's apple working against his neck. "Yeah, baby. Wanna fuck you so bad." "No. You're not fucking me tonight," you told him, glancing down to see his penis was so hard in his shorts. He swallowed and looked up at you, meeting your eyes and nodding, silently agreeing to his punishment. "You're going to give me everything I want, but you're not going to fuck me." He nodded again. "Okay, baby. Whatever you say." You took a small step closer to him until your pussy was right in front of his face. You had to commend him for keeping his focus mostly on your eyes, as you rubbed yourself against his mustache and his eyes fluttered closed. "Lick my pussy, and make me come," you told him. He was instantly licking up and down your slit as his hands wrapped around the backs of your thighs. You separated your legs a bit more for him, and he groaned against your core. Bradley grunted and pulled back to look up at you, and you could see your wetness on his lips and mustache. Then he circled your clit with his tongue a few times, causing your breath to catch in your throat before burying his mouth and nose in your pussy. "Bradley," you gasped, threading your fingers through his hair and holding him against you. "Baby," he whispered reverently before he licked your clit with his flattened tongue. He pulled your clit gently between his lips in a truly filthy kiss before guiding his mouth down lower and fucking his tongue inside you. He was doing a damn good job with his assignment. But you really wanted to make your point. "Bradley, if I'm not coming, hard, in the next two minutes, I'm leaving." He groaned and gently rubbed your clit with the tip of his nose. He knew you loved that. Then he licked you there before sealing his lips around your bud and sucking gently. You could feel yourself starting to buck against his face as his tongue connected with your clit. His soft swipes sent you over the edge as you ground yourself against his face. "Oh!" you gasped as he went a little harder, making you cry out a little louder. You grabbed his head for support, and he tightened his big hands around your thighs. He released your oversensitive pussy as you took a small step away from him, gasping for air and shaking your head. "Now, tell me again who I am, and what you're going to do," you managed to say as your breathing was starting to return to normal. Bradley looked up at you lovingly, not bothering to clean you off of his face. He whispered your name. "You're my sweet girl, baby. And I'm going to treat you so well. I promise." "Okay, I'll stay," you told him.

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Whew! Did anyone else notice there is absolutely no kissing in this fic?

Hope you liked it, nonny friend!

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun fanfiction

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skyward-floored · 11 months

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Hyrule Warriors Traitor Angst

This has been sitting around in my docs for ages, and I’m really tired of looking at it XD Hyrule Warriors traitor stuff is one of my weaknesses, I truly never get enough of it, and this was born from a stray thought I had awhile ago.

I’m pretty okay with how this turned out, even if it was originally going to be longer and have wayyyy more angst XD

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Link woke up with a hand pressed over his mouth and the cold steel of a dagger against his throat.

His eyes snapped open and it was only because of his training that he didn’t immediately sit up and inadvertently slit his throat, instead only jerking slightly as adrenaline flooded his system.

“Not a sound hero,” a low voice sneered.

Link glared towards the figure holding the knife, the light in the tent too dim to make out details, and felt the dagger tighten against his neck when he moved slightly.

“You try anything and the kid dies,” the voice continued, and Link’s heart shot into his throat.

He frantically cast his gaze across the room, feeling his worry only triple when he finally caught sight of Mask. Two men were holding tightly to him, a hand over his mouth as well, and though there wasn’t a dagger to his throat like Link’s, there was a third man standing close by also holding a knife.

The kid looked furious, but even in the low light Link could make out the worried tilt to his brows, the barely hidden panic in his eyes. They met gazes and as Mask struggled more frantically, Link felt the dagger tighten against his throat again.

“I said don’t try anything,” the voice repeated, and Link flicked his eyes up to the man who currently had him at his mercy.

His eyes had adjusted to the light a bit more, and now that he was all the way awake Link could make out the army uniform the man wore. He studied him closer, and felt his gut churn as he made out the familiar face of one of the army’s lieutenants, a man Link didn’t know personally but recognized in passing.

Traitor.

The dagger bit into his throat and Link flinched at the sting, feeling something warm start to trickle down his neck.

“Get up,” the lieutenant demanded, and Link complied, slowly getting to his feet as he slid off his cot. The dagger never left his throat, and he lifted his hands up in surrender, keeping his gaze focused on Mask. He tried to reassure him with a look, but it was a bit difficult to be calm when he could feel blood starting to stain his shirt collar.

One of the men holding Mask came over and grabbed Link’s arms, twisting his hands behind his back before securing them with a thick rope he’d somehow procured. Then the hand was finally lifted off of Link’s mouth.

“What do you want,” he said in a voice that he had to struggle to keep calm.

The man holding the dagger to his neck went to speak, but was cut off by one of the men holding Mask, who glared at Link with fire in his eyes.

“An end to this cursed war,” he spat, and Link rolled his eyes with a nonchalance he didn’t feel.

“And you think this is going to do it?” he said in an unimpressed voice, then felt his head snap to the side as the lieutenant hit him.

“We are going to walk out of this tent and you two will make no noise,” the lieutenant, obviously the ringleader instructed as blood trickled down Link’s lip. “You will not call for help, you will not try to signal anyone, you will do nothing but walk. And if you don’t follow our instructions to the letter...”

A dagger was pressed to Mask’s neck and he froze, Link’s heart shooting into his throat again.

“...we don’t need the kid.”

“Leave him out of this,” Link snapped, his calm facade broken as he started to struggle, “you have no quarrel with him, I’m the one you want!”

Then he hissed in pain as the dagger jabbed his throat.

“Shut up.”

And he was shoved towards the exit, only a few steps behind Mask.

They exited the tent out into the dark of the camp, a thin sliver of the moon the only thing lighting their path. The night was chilly, and Link found himself wishing he had his scarf around his neck, for both the warmth and the security it would bring.

He felt awfully exposed with nothing but a dagger pressed against his throat.

He glanced up ahead at Mask, who was half-walking half-being-carried by the other two men. He still squirmed in their grasp, but not quite as intensely since the dagger still hovered near his neck. Link could see the tense way he was holding his shoulders, and wished he could see his face.

They were quickly drawing closer to the edge of the army’s tents, and Link found himself looking desperately around for some way out of this predicament, knowing that if they were brought out of camp the possibility of escape or rescue would be significantly diminished.

He’d try and make an attempt at getting away, but he didn’t know how far these men were willing to go and he did not want to risk it with a knife so close to Mask’s throat.

Something shone in the corner of his vision, and Link flicked his gaze to the side of the path, his eyes widening as blue sparkles disappeared behind a tent. He felt a bloom of hope in his chest, and smiled to himself even though it was hard to do so with a busted lip.

They had nothing to worry about.

A faint hiss went through the air, and the man walking next to Link suddenly dropped to the ground like a puppet who’s strings had been cut. The lieutenant holding the dagger jolted in surprise, then snarled, grabbing Link as if to use him like a human shield.

“We’ve been exposed,” he hissed, and the other remaining men put the dagger back at Mask’s throat.

“Drop your weapons,” a voice demanded from the shadows, and Link mentally sighed in relief as he recognized it as Impa’s.

The lieutenant holding him laughed. “Sure, so your pretty little daggers can just hit us in the necks the minute we do. How stupid do you think we are? We’re not falling for that.”

The other two growled in assent, and Mask took the opportunity to jerk forward and bite the hand that held the dagger to his neck.

The man shouted in pain as he dropped the weapon, and Mask immediately swooped down and grabbed it, leveling it at the two. But he didn’t end up needing it, as two more daggers whipped out of the shadows, their solid handles knocking the two unconscious one right after the other.

Leaving only the lieutenant.

Link couldn’t do anything from his position, not with his hands literally tied and the dagger pressed to his neck, and despite her incredible aim, he knew if Impa were to throw one at his captor, the chance of Link’s neck being unintentionally slit was a rather high possibility.

They seemed to be in a bit of a stalemate.

“Release him,” Impa’s voice said from the shadows, the general still not revealing herself. Mask stood only a few feet away from Link, his face twisted in anger as Proxi flew to his side.

But they both stayed where they were. They all knew what could happen if they made a wrong move, and nobody was willing to risk Link’s neck.

The lieutenant gave a laugh, the sound tinged with hysteria. “You do realize who this is, right?” he said, giving Link a small shake. His fingers dug into Link’s shoulder as his voice grew in volume, and Link winced at the force of his grip. “He’s the hero. And he’s the key to stopping the war.”

Mask’s face darkened, expression turning to one of pure anger that made him look much older then he actually was.

“Which is why you should let him go,” the kid snapped back, and Link tried working the ropes a bit while he had the man’s focus, “if you want the war to end why would you kidnap one of our greatest assets?!”

The man laughed again, sounding rather unhinged now. Not good.

“He’s the key,” the lieutenant hissed, the dagger still tight against Link’s throat. “the sorceress wants him. One man for the lives of thousands. It’s so simple.”

Link felt a rock sink into his stomach and his fingers went slack.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Mask growled, and the lieutenant abruptly shifted his grip, the dagger cutting sharply against Link’s collarbone.

He couldn’t help but let out a small gasp at the abrupt pain at his neck, and Mask looked livid.

“Don’t be ridiculous?” the man repeated in a shout, “why don’t you all see?! The only way we’ll end this war is if we give her what she wants!” he nearly screamed, desperation in his voice, “she started it! She can end it! All we have to do is let her have the hero!”

A dagger whirled from behind them and hit the man over the head before he could say anything else.

The lieutenant’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell to the ground like a sack of rocks, completely limp. Link jerked back, nearly falling over as he took a couple steps backwards, mind still reeling with pain and what had happened. He gulped in a few deep breaths, but didn’t manage anything else before Mask leapt at him and flung his arms around Link, burying his head in his shoulder.

“I tried to warn you captain, I’m sorry, they grabbed me before I could even—”

“It’s okay Sprite, it’s fine, we’re both okay,” Link murmured as he sank to his knees, heart still thudding too fast. He got to work on finally getting out of his restraints as Proxi bobbed frantically around him, and Impa jogged up only seconds later, her eyes narrowed with concern.

“Captain, are you alright?” she asked, eyeing the blood staining his shirt.

Link merely nodded, a bit distracted by the fact that Mask still hadn’t let go. The kid wasn’t usually so keen on touch, and as of this moment this was the longest he’d ever clung to him.

“Captain,” Impa repeated, her eyes still on his neck, “you need medical attention.”

Link finally looked up at her, eyes firm but worried. “It’s not too bad,” he said quietly, putting a hand to his neck then pulling it away.

It came back much redder than he’d been expecting.

“...oh.”

Impa grabbed his arm as Mask leaned back, and they both pulled him to the ground, forcing him to sit.

“Do not move captain, I’ll be right back,” Impa commanded him, and Link gave a weak nod, the night’s events finally catching up to him. He let Mask press a cloth he’d somehow procured up against his throat, and let out a hiss of pain.

“Sorry,” Mask murmured, and Link grunted something that he hoped sounded reassuring.

They sat there in a tense silence for several minutes, Proxi worriedly studying his wrists. Link was trying not to focus on the blood rapidly coloring the cloth still held to his neck, but also the fact that several of his man had turned on and nearly succeeded in kidnapping him and Mask.

And had honestly good reasons for doing so.

“They weren’t right.”

Link flicked his exhausted gaze over at Mask, who was glaring at the ground and not meeting his gaze.

“Who weren’t right?” he asked softly, and Mask clenched his jaw.

“Those guys. Giving you to Cia wouldn’t fix anything, it wouldn’t stop the war. It’d make it worse,” he muttered venomously. “I saw you when he said all of that, and I can see you thinking. You think he’s right.”

Link closed his eyes.

“Giving me to Cia would fix a lot of problems,” he whispered, and felt Mask’s grip tighten. “She’s after me. Taking me out of the equation, giving... giving me up... It would save so many lives...”

“Oh Link,” Proxi said softly, and flew over to sit on his shoulder.

She brushed comfortingly against his cheek, and Mask moved so he was right in Link’s face, face rent with equal anger and disbelief.

“Do you really think she’d stop once she had you?” Mask snapped incredulously. “You’re an idiot. She’s on the warpath captain, this isn’t just about you, she wants the whole kingdom. I know her type, giving you up would only egg her on, show her we’re willing to roll over and give her what she wants, and I refuse to let you believe that’s the best course of action.”

He crossed his arms and continued to glare. “This war isn’t your fault. You aren’t responsible for the actions of others and I’ll say that as many times as I have to to get it through your stupid thick skull.”

Link blinked at him, then gave a tiny nod, ignoring how his throat stung at the movement.

“Good,” Mask sighed, and adjusted his grip. “And you have to promise to remember that if this ever happens again too. Got it? Other people’s choices aren’t your fault.”

“...okay kiddo,” Link said quietly.

Mask studied his face, then nodded, leaning against him. He pressed his head against Link’s as he nestled in, and Link felt his chest warm just a little as Proxi and Mask both sat with him, waiting for Impa to come back.

“I won’t forget.”

#hyrule warriors #loz hw #legend of zelda #lu mask #kinda lu??#I had warriors in mind anyway #lu warriors #legend of zelda fanfiction #linked universe fanfic #writing from the floor

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beastlycheese · 11 months

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Does Robert Carlyle, now 62, get his kit off in the new TV series of The Full Monty? ‘Nobody wants to see that,’ he says with a grin.

Photograph: Alana Paterson/The Observer

Interview

By Rebecca Nicholson, printed in Guardian/Observer

Robert Carlyle’s life has been defined by two remarkable characters: the explosively violent Begbie, and Gaz in The Full Monty. Here, he talks about his Glasgow childhood, Britpop hedonism – and playing the PM…

It was 1997, and Robert Carlyle was in his mid-30s, when he first played the stripping Sheffield steelworker Gaz in The Full Monty. Last year, to get ready to play him again – this time for an eight-part TV series – he sat himself down to watch the film. He seems slightly embarrassed to admit it – he’s not the kind of actor who likes to watch himself. “And I’m not about trawling back through something from 20-odd years ago,” he says. But The Full Monty was calling him to South Yorkshire, so trawl back he did. He decided that he would watch a few minutes, then he would move on. “And I sat there and watched the whole thing.” He was surprised to find that it still worked, even after 25 years. “I don’t know if I can say this, but I really enjoyed it. It really stands up.”

The original Full Monty told the story of six unemployed men from Sheffield who put on a DIY strip show at the working men’s club. It was an indie film, shot on a very small budget, and it almost went straight to video; a last-minute re-edit saved it from obscurity and it went on to be a staggering global success, making £200m at the box office. Carlyle’s Gaz is the ringleader, a schemer and a dreamer trying to keep enough money in his pocket to put the heating on when his son comes to stay.

I had misremembered it as a film about men getting their kit off, a bawdy hen night of British comedy. But rewatching it I was struck by how political it seems now. Three decades later, in the new series, people are still broke and Gaz is still scheming, but the working men’s club has shut down, the school is crumbling and children are going hungry.

‘I love it when I dive into a job. You’ve got a little family unit, you love each other to bits and you think you’re going to be friends forever’

“It’s easy to forget that the film is quite heavily political,” says Carlyle. “It makes a point. And I think the same applies to the TV show. These people have lived through what seems like 25 years of austerity.” He credits the writers, Simon Beaufoy and Alice Nutter, with its gallows humour. “But you see that the older people’s lives have been pretty tough for the past 25 years, and then there’s 20 years of what Simon calls the Young Montys, the younger characters, heading for the same shit. So it’s good that this has been made. It shows what people go through to survive the day to day.” Not just men getting their kit off, then. Does he strip this time? “Nobody wants to see that,” he says, with a grin.

Carlyle is a great talker, open and funny and relaxed. He admits he was not always this way, particularly when it came to the press, though he did have his reasons. He’s calmed down a lot since his wilder days, in part because he is, as he says, “125 years old” (he’s just turned 62, though he looks younger) and also because he now lives in Vancouver, on the west coast of Canada. “There’s a laid-back attitude and quality here I enjoy,” he says. He moved there to film a TV series, Once Upon a Time, in 2011, with his wife, Anastasia Shirley, and three children, and found that he liked the city, though he has kept a home in Glasgow, where he grew up, and the family splits its time between the two. His kids are 21, 19 and 17.

Do they have Canadian accents? “Aye, they do,” he laughs. “My eldest son’s got this strange – hang on, let me see if I can do it – this half-American thing with a bit of Scottish thrown in, you know?”

Carlyle is at his happiest when he’s at home. “I’m a homebody, there’s no doubt about that,” he says. “I’ve got loads of friends, particularly in London, and I enjoy it when I get to meet up with them. It’s brilliant. But I’ve always been a bit of a loner to be honest.” Carlyle was brought up by his father; his mother walked out when he was a child. He has spoken before about moving around a lot, living in communes. “I always think about it as darkness and light, my life, because the first part of it was pretty dark. My mother had left when I was a wee boy. I was brought up by my dad alone in Glasgow in the 60s, and the single- parent family, there was not a lot of that around, especially a single-parent family with a father. That made me instantly different from the rest of the people who were around me.” He seems surprised by his own candour. “Genuinely, I’ve never really spoken about this before. But I guess that’s probably where it started.”

I still love Begbie. It was such an explosion. An absolute avalanche

Did he feel like an outsider at school? “When I was very young, yeah, definitely. It’s the little things.” He has a teacher friend and he says he is pleased to hear that things are very different now. “But back in the day, if you had to get permission for something, the teachers would say, bring a note in from your mum. Stuff like that. Of course, when you don’t have that, that really hits home, even when you’re a wee boy.”

Carlyle left school at 16, became a painter and decorator, and worked with his dad. At 21, he came across a copy of Arthur Miller’s The Crucible, and it lit something up inside him. He went on to the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama, and set up his own theatre company. For a loner, he has picked a very sociable job.

“Yeah, but I’ve been doing it for so long that I’ve become very good at separating those things. I love it when I dive into a job, whether theatre, film, TV, whatever. You’ve got a little family unit, you love each other to bits and you think you’re going to be friends for ever. Then two months later you never see them again,” he laughs. Family means a lot to him. “I’d always wanted to have a good family unit, to be able to connect with each other and be pals with each other,” he says, talking about his three children. “Thankfully, we’re great friends.”

In 1991, he was cast as the lead in Ken Loach’s Riff-Raff, and worked steadily through the 90s, playing a serial killer in Cracker, which set the tone for more villainous roles to come. But nothing prepared him for the double whammy of playing the sadistic maniac Begbie in Trainspotting at the end of 1995 and Gaz in The Full Monty, 18 months later. “From that point on, they were massive shadows that then followed me around for the rest of my life, the rest of my career,” he says. “So it was something that I had to get used to, the whole fame thing. Because I am, as I’ve been saying, quite a homely guy, a family man, it took me a long time to get used to that.”

To say the films were hits is an understatement. Both were phenomena that travelled around the world. One of the strangest things about watching The Full Monty again, he says, is that it took him right back to that time. “It’s looking at yourself in another life, and all the things that were happening in my life back then. I mean, we can all look back in photographs, but I’ve got this living, breathing thing in front of me.”

What was happening in his life back then?

“Ha!” It was the height of the Britpop era, and because of those films, Carlyle was right at the heart of it. Back in the day, as he puts it, he was invited to everything and went to most of it. “I met all the personalities of the day, the Oasis lads, Damon Albarn, who’s still a great friend. I was right in the middle of that whole thing, enjoying that life.”

Was it as hedonistic as it seemed? He doesn’t pause for breath. “One thousand per cent,” he grins. “It was incredibly hedonistic, but it was exciting. If you think about it politically, we’d just come out of Tory rule. Blair was there, everything seemed to be on the up. And I can remember that feeling.” He appeared in an Oasis video, for the song Little By Little.

Was it easy to be friends with Blur and Oasis, given their famous rivalry? “Hahaha. To be honest with you, I was really good at not getting involved. But I remember when I did Little By Little, Damon was like, ‘Why the fuck did you do that? Come and do one for me!’ I said, ‘But you never asked,’ which was true! And that was the end of the conversation.”

“It doesn’t sound like you were a homebody in those days,” I say. He laughs again. “No,” he says. “There wasn’t so much homebody then. I certainly wasn’t shy in getting out the door.”

But there was a darker side to that era. His fame made him a person of interest to the tabloids. He says it’s nothing compared to what some people experienced, but still it sounds unpleasant.

“At the time, going through that was horrible, to be honest with you, because I didn’t understand it. I was suddenly in this world and I was very open. Probably too open, at times.” The papers responded by reporting on his private life and his family. “They got in touch with my mother and pulled her out the dark, and that was really upsetting. So I slammed the door shut for a long time, because I just hated it.” He was tight-lipped in interviews and wouldn’t do chatshows, though he will say he still regrets saying no to Michael Parkinson. “I think that was probably quite clever, because then you do keep a little bit of yourself. I mean, you see people on these chatshows and everything comes out and you go, ‘My God, I don’t know how you can live your life like that.’”

He does them these days, however. “Because I’m 125, I’m more used to it,” he jokes. “I can do it better now. Time and age is a great thing.”

Is it just time? Has he mellowed with age?

“It’s family, children. My children came in the 2000s, so all the stuff in the 90s, there were no kids then, but once children arrive in your life, everything changes overnight. So that becomes more important. That becomes your focus. And you begin to think, ‘Oh, the other stuff’s not actually worth bothering about.’”

Carlyle has had the chance to go back to two of his most iconic characters. He revisited Begbie for T2, the Trainspotting sequel, in 2017. A sequel was always planned, and Carlyle says he and Jonny Lee Miller, who plays Sickboy, wanted it to be sooner. “But Danny Boyle [the director] always said, we’ll do it, but when you’re older. He was obviously right, because it’s in the face. You can see that life has been lived.”

Even more so than Gaz, the terrifying Begbie is the character who has followed him around the longest. “The terrifying Begbie!” he laughs. “I love Begbie. I mean, who knew? Who knew what was going to happen with that character? It was such an explosion, Trainspotting. An absolute avalanche.” At the time, he knew that the film was going to be something special. “I thought this character is gonna be around for a while. But I thought, maybe a few years.” Yesterday, he says, he went to the butcher’s near his house, and the man in the shop, in his 20s, from Bilbao, recognised him and said he loved him in Trainspotting. “He said, ‘I’ve got a T-shirt of you, of Begbie with the glass.’ This thing I thought was going to last a few years, is still there, in people’s minds, 27 years later.” Wherever he goes now, people still recognise him as Begbie. “That mad character!” He’s not exactly a teddy bear, is he? “I mean, this is a line from the film – he’s a psycho, but he’s a mate, so what can you do? I do love him. And Gaz. Both these characters have given me a tremendous career and a tremendous life, and you’ve got to love him for that.”

Besides, Begbie’s not dead yet. There is a six-part TV series, The Blade Artist, in the planning, about Begbie’s post-prison life as an acclaimed artist in California. Carlyle is working on it with Irvine Welsh and Hex author Jenni Fagan.

“It’s been brilliant, this one. I mean, let’s face it, Begbie is me. So to be right in at the beginning of that and be able to go, well, actually, maybe change this, change that… that’s where we are at the moment.” He thinks they’ll start shooting in the next year or two.

For now, he’s off work, relaxing in Vancouver, travelling with his wife, spending time with his family. “Back in the day, it was all about the next job, next job, next job and I don’t think so much like that any more.”

Recently, he’s been playing the British prime minster, Robert Sutherland, in the political thriller Cobra. “Who would have thought? Begbie, Gaz, the prime minister…” he says. In the original Full Monty, Gaz explains that he can’t go shoplifting because “I’ve got serial killer written on my forehead.” Carlyle nods. “That’s right. That’s probably my issue with parts. Certainly with Sutherland, when he gets angry, I’ve got to really pull it down. Don’t get Begbie-angry,” he says. “Begbie as the prime minister!” I wouldn’t put it past him.

The Full Monty will be streaming on Disney+ from 14 June

#robert carlyle #full monty

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thegettingbyp2 · 2 years

Note

HI :D Reader and Knoxville. reader is a safe place for the Jackass guys before the pranks of Johnny.

Go Through Me

Whenever you were on the Jackass set, you knew that you weren’t going to get a break for the whole day. Despite going to set to visit your boyfriend, Johnny, it had pretty much become your job to protect the other guys from your boyfriend.

It wasn’t a secret that Johnny loved to pull pranks on everyone but he always drew the line when it would come to you; he would never let anyone pull anything on you, not even himself. As soon as the others figured this out, they would flock to you whenever a prank was being pulled.

You were currently sitting on the grass, flicking through your phone while you basked in the sun, enjoying a rare moment of piece while the boys were all filming. All of a sudden, you heard pained yells in the direction of where they were filming and, looking over in the same direction, you saw everyone running towards you still dressed as human skittles; only this time, you could see splashes of colour on them.

Before you realised how close they were, you were bodily pulled up and held against someone’s chest, a quick look up revealed it to be Pontius. You looked back around and saw Johnny getting closer, dressed in his black Jackass suit and holding a large, clunky-looking remote controller and you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh when you saw the pure happiness on his face.

‘Step any closer and you risk getting (Y/N).’ Chris warned, trying to hide the laughter in his voice, as he held you out to Johnny, almost as a peace offering.

‘That’s not fair! You can’t use my own girlfriend against me!’ Johnny protested, moving his thumbs off of the controls.

‘PJ, what are you doing?’ you called across the field, watching as the rest of the guys starting to file behind you and Chris, them all treating you like a shield against the ringleader of the group.

‘I think it’s pretty obvious, doll,’ he replied, gesturing to the gaggle of guys behind you. ‘I put paintball guns on these helicopters and while they were stuck on the lubed mat, I decided to fire,’ he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

‘Well I’m afraid your fun’s been cut short baby,’ you laughed. ‘You want to get them anymore, you’re going to have to go through me,’ you teased, knowing that he wouldn’t risk hitting you with the paintball.

‘Is that a challenge, sweetheart,’ he said darkly, moving his thumbs to hover over the controls once more. Your eyes widened when he saw his thumbs start moving and you squeezed them shut when you heart the paintball gun fire.

‘Fuck!’

When you realised that you hadn’t actually been hit, you opened your eyes and relaxed your body, still stuck in Chris’ hold. You looked to the side to see Dave curled up on the floor, him having been the easy target from where he was standing on the edge of the group, a safe distance from you that Johnny knew you wouldn’t get hit. A surprised laugh left your lips as Chris set you back down and you made your way over to Johnny, sliding your hand over his stomach as you tucked yourself into his side.

‘You could have hit me you know?’ you teased, hitting his stomach lightly.

‘I’d never get you, I’m too good,’ he grinned looking down at you. You raised your eyebrow at him before he corrected himself. ‘Okay, I’m a lousy shot but Dave was right on the edge, you weren’t even in the line of fire! Though maybe it’ll teach them to stop using you as a fucking shield all the time.’

#johnny knoxville #johnny knoxville x reader #johnny knoxville imagine #jackass

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captain-lessship · 1 year

Text

Creepy Pt. 9

The chorus of beeping was playing as you stared at the boy who was still asleep. You looked to Wednesday who was sitting beside you, “We’ve got to go, visiting hours are up in a hour.”

“It’s all my fault. I was the reason he was out in the woods.”

“Wednesday-“

“Don’t say it isn’t, we both know it is.”

You crossed your arms, “Well then shouldn’t we be out there finding the monster? Or did I only think that I knew who you were?”

Wednesday stated at you, she then stood up and grabbed her bag. “I hate when you are right.”

You grinned, “Sure you do.” You stood up, looking back at Eugene, you waved bye.

You and Wednesday began planning but there was one, huge, wrench that was going to be thrown in your plans:

Parents Weekend.

You where sitting at your workplace when got a call from your mother. And that was a rare occurrence.

“Sweetheart! It’s mummy!” She said, voice ringing out softly.

“Hi Mom, are you going to be here for Parents Weekend?”

You heard the clicking of her makeup bottles and the clanging of a glass being sat down. “Of course, sweetie! Wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

You lightly grinned, “You missed the last three.”

“Oh, that was out of my control. The spotlight stops for no actress.”

“Yeah.” You held back a few tears.

Your mother was a theater actress and she started out as magician’s assistant, the magician happened to be your father. They had gotten divorced so she went to New York and she was traveling all around the world and somewhere in there, she had you.

“I love you sweetheart! I will be there, will he be there?”

You thought before you answered, “Yeah, he said he might.” They always tried to one up the other, so you mentally prepared

“Oh,” she paused, “Alright! Hugs and kisses, buh-bye!”

She hung up. You just sat there for a minute. You hoped this went good.

You kept that thought as you watched your father walk in. A tall, built man with dark hair and eyes that twinkled with mischief. He was dressed in a nice suit, reminiscent of his ringleader uniform. His sharp eyes landed on you, he began to walk to you, “Well well,” his circus voice flowed, “My little man,”

He stopped right in front of you, looking down, “And how are we doing today?” His smile was wide.

“I’m great! So Pops I wa-“

“Is that you, sweetheart?”

You turned to see your mother. Her blood red makeup attention to her eyes, which seemed to be staring completely through you, her flowing dress hung off her like a liquid shadow. Her hair was the same color as yours and hung in ringlets. “Come to Mummy, sweetheart.” She opened her arms for a hug.

“Mom-“

“Thalia, it’s weird for a young to call his mother that.” Your father said, without skipping a beat.

“Well, Hudson, what you know about mothers?” She snapped back.

“Anyway,” you said, “It’s great to see both of you! I actually have someone I want you to meet.” You grinned.

“Of course, son. Who are they?”

“She’s my girlfriend.” You led them to where Wednesday stood, talking to her family. When she turned and saw you, she walked up to you.

“Mom, Pops, this is Wednesday.”

“Like that poem?” Your father asked.

“Yes. About the weekday children.” Your mother answered for him.

“It’s nice to meet you both.” She said,

voice monotone.

“So,” you mother wondered aloud, “how long have you two been dating?”

Wednesday answered and you looked at your father who was watching her with slight confusion.

“That’s wonderful!” You mother clapped her hands together, “I think you both look darling together.”

Your dad finally chimed in, “What’s your last name?”

“Addams.”

You saw your father’s eyes lighten, “Are you Fester Addams niece?”

“Yes.”

You dad began to laugh, it came deep from his chest. You looked at your mothers sour expression as she knew what the man was laughing about.

“Thalia, remember that time Ol’ Fezzy shocked you so bad we didn’t have to use the lion for the performance.” Your dad wiped a tear from his eye.

“Very vividly, Hudson. Just like that time you got shot out of the cannon directly into the side of a elephant.”

You looked at the ground at their bickering, Wednesday noticed. “I would like to borrow him for a minute. I would like for him to meet my family.”

“Oh!” You mother looked at you, “Well I can’t stay, I’m sorry sweetheart.” She hugged you. “I will see in the summer. Buh-bye!”

You waved bye to her, looking at your dad.

“Well bud, I gotta run too. Someone’s gotta make cotton candy dreams come true.” Your dad patted you on the shoulder as he left. You sighed, trying to not let the disappointment radiate.

“It’s alright.” Wednesday said, gently holding your hand. “If are up to meet my family, I think they will loathe you.”

You smiled slightly, “Thank you.” You walked hand in hand to a group of people and you immediately knew they were Wednesdays family. The entire family shared the same fashion sense and you noticed the calm demeanor of her mother and the cheerful one of her father, then the mixed blend in her brother.

“Mother, Father, this is my boyfriend.”

“You’re dating Wednesday?” Pugsley asked, genuine surprise.

“Shut it. I don’t have time to hang you from the rafters.” Wednesdays retorted.

“Ah! Young man,” Gomez put a hand on your shoulder, patting you, “So you’re the one our little nightmare is obsessed with?”

You smiled, “I think it’s mutual and yes, I am proud to say I am.”

a/n: I know it’s short but I need to post something and this mean you guys get two more to finish it up so it’s a blessing in disguise

#wednesday #wednesday imagine #netflix wednesday #wednesday x reader #wednesday x you #wednsday addams #wednesday addams x male!reader #Wednesday x male reader #fanfic #romance #male reader imagine #fanfic writing #meeting the family #meeting the parents

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nethhiri · 3 months

Text

Introducing: Ex-Cap’t Krait Shenron (like the sea snake and the OG Shenron)

Details below the cut (Murder and violence warnings).

I actually dreamt about her and had to make her real even though I didn’t want to make another One Piece OC. Her cape is actually a jacket but worn like that for convenience. It’s made from the ‘Justice’ insignia’s of marine captains’ jackets. After she kills a captain, she cuts out the symbol as her trophy and adds it to her collection. Her fake eye is a log pose (yeah that was in the dream and I thought it was badass so of course I included it). Her weapons are blade/gun fusions that she created. The bottom left corner is what she looked like when she was still a marine.

Her story is a story of revenge and will be the story I’m telling in Marooned, but I’ll give the short version. Shen joined the marines after living on an island that was run rampant by gangs, after having witnessed the murder of a girl around her own age and tired of the chaos (if that sounds familiar, it should). She did very well in the marines and became a captain. She thought she was on the ‘right side’, but learned there were some powerful people that had been corrupted. With the support of her crew, she confronted one of them, threatening to turn him in. It turned into an all out fight and ended with her sword straight through his belly. He revealed that it ran deeper than just him, just one crew. Of course she was right to try and stop him, but who could she trust if there were more like him hiding in the ranks. Rather than run the risk of being put in jail for the murder, or worse, she defected. There was no point in being part of an organization that she no longer believed in. There was no ‘good’ side anymore. She gave both their crews a chance to choose a side, a mistake in hindsight. She took whoever sided with her on a mission to cleanse the world of those corrupt marines. With every kill, she took her prize and soon had a coat made from captains’ jackets. She earned an astronomical bounty in a short amount of time: Marine Killer Krait “The Sea Snake”. For a time, she thought she was invincible. Until her crew sold her out. The ringleader of the entire operation that started her rampage captured her. Her crew never got to collect on the bounty though, since the man had no intention of letting her off ‘that easy’. She was beaten up, shot, and tortured. Until he finally decided to get rid of her, when he brought her on deck to make an example of her and pushed her head into a barrel filled with an alkaline substance. The entire right side of her head, and some of her shoulder was melted away. Thinking her as good as dead, he threw her into the sea. She was almost dead, but not quite, when she washed up on the shore of an uninhabited island. She survived there for a number of years with the company of Minerva ‘Mini’, her boar companion. She learned how to survive by watching what the boar ate and seeing which water it would drink from, and yes sometimes she stole food from it. It also helped that she stumbled upon a devil fruit. She didn’t know what it was when she ate it but it tasted terrible and she started noticing that she could mend things. She calls it the Fix-Fix Fruit, still not sure what all it can do. Killer and Kid find themselves washed up on the same island. Shenron helps heal Killer, who had obviously jumped in the water after his captain. From there, Shen strikes a deal with them to hitch a ride off the island in exchange for offering her healing skills during the time she was on their ship. Little did any of them know, she would end up staying a Kid Pirate, after she finished off the people that tortured her.

All of this will be flushed out in Marooned, but of course made so anyone can enjoy.

#one piece oc #canon x oc #eustass kid #massacre soldier killer #Krait Shenron #oc art #my art #tw: torture #tw: violence #tw: murder #Shen

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lykegenia · 1 year

Text

Like Glitter And Gold Ch.8

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles Characters/Relationships: Nate Sewell x F!Detective Rating: T

Read on AO3

The rest of Unit Bravo have already arrived at the station by the time Leah pulls into the parking bay with Nate. Having waited for an Agency team to arrive to secure the boat and box up Russell’s stash of artefacts for cataloguing, a good chunk of the afternoon is now gone, the blustery sunshine of earlier in the day clouded over and spotting with rain as they bundle through the main doors.

“Detective,” Adam greets without preamble. “Did you have a successful morning?”

She shoots him a wry smile. “You could say that. Some answers, and a whole load of new questions.”

“We can start with the answers,” he says, but Nate interrupts.

“Where’s Mason?”

“He said he had a report to write,” Felix says from the borrowed chair he’s pulled up by Tina’s desk. “But we all know he’s using the excuse to spend time with the kittens where we can’t see him.”

“Who wouldn’t want to spend time with them?” Tina cries. “They’re so cute! Leah, have you seen these?”

“They have names now!” Felix adds helpfully.

Without waiting for a response, he jumps out of his seat and bounds across the room to hold up his phone. A muscle ticks in Adam’s jaw, disapproving of more than just the younger agent’s burst of preternatural speed, but does nothing to actively discourage the behaviour.

“We called the black and white one Lucky,” Felix informs them, swiping to a photo of the little runt asleep on his back with his front paws tucked up to his chin.

Beside Leah, Nate chuckles at the image, the sound a low rumble in her ear as he uses the excuse to lean close. She can feel his body light and electric against her back, one hand resting on the curve above her waist, and even if there’s no intent to the gesture she’s sure he can feel the way her heartbeat spikes. Luckily, Felix seems too absorbed in swiping through the dozens of photos crowding his phone to notice her distraction. After Lucky sleeping, sitting, loafing, and sleeping again, he swipes to a photo of the two splashed tabbies, their baby blue eyes wide with curiosity as they huddle together in a mess of blankets.

“These two are Strawberry and Shortcake,” he says, flicking through more pictures. “You can tell them apart because Strawberry has the patch above her eye. And then this is Van Helsing.”

Nate coughs. “Van Helsing?”

The little orange ringleader stares up from the phone screen, velvet paws planted on the carpet, intent on the end of string that dangles just out of shot.

“That’s an… interesting choice,” Leah says. Her gaze flashes to Tina, who holds her palms up in surrender and mouths it wasn’t me! before going back to her screen.

“My Insta followers thought of it,” Felix explains. “I asked them to come up with something vampire related – you know, for reasons. Adam doesn’t like it, obviously.”

“No, I do not,” the team leader agrees, and jerks his head towards Leah’s office. “If we could return to the case?”

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, Felix slips his phone into a pocket and obeys the directive, mollified only by the commiserating look Tina throws his way. Leah is about to follow when the far door squeaks open and Verda appears clutching a manilla folder to his chest. He looks like he hasn’t slept. His clothes areas put-together as ever, but the heavy bags beneath his eyes and the slump of his shoulders are easy enough for anyone to read.

“I thought I heard you back,” he says. “I have some new evidence for you, and the lab called back with a print match on the sports bag. They must be having a slow day.” His eyes dart to Nate, then to the silhouettes blocked against the interior windows of her office.

“Thanks, I’ll check it out.” She tilts her head. “You alright?”

He blinks. “Nothing to worry about. Do either of you want anything from Haley’s while I’m there?”

With a quick shake of her head, and an instruction to Tina to run a background check on both Harrises, Leah completes the party in her office and closes the door behind her. Nate is already making himself useful attaching printouts of the GPS history of Russell’s boat to the board, but he catches her gaze as she steps up beside him, passes her a smile she can’t help but return.

“You two are adorable,” Felix interrupts, holding his chin in his hands.

Her face heats. “Did you guys find anything on patrol?”

“No sign of Trappers, or rogues,” Adam says. “So far. It would be unwise to rule them out completely.”

“That’s fair, but it’s still a dead end for now.” She crosses to the desk and slaps Verda’s folder down over the keyboard. “We, on the other hand, have had more success. It looks likely that Walter Greene’s money was being used to fund a salvage operation for sunken treasure.”

“Really?” Felix asks. “Cool.”

“He would have done well to tell you that when you visited him yesterday,” Adam notes with a scowl.

She shrugs. “I’m not surprised he didn’t. Not sharing what he’s up to also means he doesn’t have to share any profits.”

“Maritime salvage law can have – ah – muddied waters, let’s say,” Nate adds. “The ownership of the cargo could be too easily disputed if people knew it was there.”

“I can’t believe you just made a pun!” Felix cries. “Do we know what the treasure is? Is it gold?”

“The equipment on Russell’s boat did look pretty heavy duty.”

Adam huffs. “This is all irrelevant unless it can be tied to a motive for murder.”

He’s right, though so far the sunken treasure is squatting in the middle of the case like a toad in a fairy tale, defying all attempts to get past it. As she gazes at the murder board, the possibilities nag at her, twisting this way and that to fit into the facts they have so far. Maybe Russell found what he was looking for, and Walter didn’t want to share his profits – or Russell didn’t find anything and didn’t want to pay back the loan – or did find something and decided he wanted a bigger cut. The problem with all of these ideas is squaring away the fact that the treasure is still missing, if it exists at all, and without it there’s no profit in Russell’s death. And then there’s the way the body was found, still with the murder weapon in place, out in the open where it was guaranteed to get the attention of the police. Walter Greene and his lackeys would never be so sloppy.

“We’ll table it,” she says. “Unless…”

Adam lifts an eyebrow. “What is it?”

Verda never fails to disappoint. The first thing to meet Leah’s gaze as she flips open the folder is a close-up photo of an uneven bruise on Russell’s torso. Next to it, a note in the examiner’s neat handwriting indicates that it was taken using a filter to enhance the details. Impression of a ring found on several contusions across subject’s body, concentrated around the midsection and one along the jaw. Minimal defensive wounds. Normal human rate of healing suggests injuries are at least two weeks old.

“How fast do selkies heal?” she asks.

“Faster than humans,” Nate supplies. “Not as fast as vampires.”

“They’re more resilient than humans too. It takes more to hurt them.”

Felix is the one who asks her why.

“Someone gave our victim a going over in the very recent past. Someone with a ring.” She holds the photo out to show them. “One of Walter Greene’s henchmen was wearing a ring yesterday.”

Nate moves closer, a frown knotted between his brows. “If you’re going to go back there, Leah, you should take one of us with you.”

“I’ll go,” Adam decides. “You need to help catalogue all those artefacts the Detective found, to see if they have any relevance.”

For a moment, it looks like there’ll be an argument, but with one last worried glance, Nate swallows back his reply and nods.

“You can’t keep our Detective to yourself all day, Natey,” Felix teases.

“I wasn’t trying to!”

Leah, still looking at the folder, ignores the banter as best she can. “We also have a name and address for the person who dumped the kittens. They’re still potentially our best witness.”

“Then that will be our first destination.” Adam is already moving. “You two should return to the warehouse.”

“Are you sure –”

“But I wanted to –”

“There will be no debate,” Adam snaps. “Detective, shall we?”

She’s glad she didn’t take her coat off. With an apologetic look back at the other two, she follows the commanding agent to the front of the building, already fishing in her pocket for Nessie’s keys.

He gives her a stern look. “I will drive.”

“You have something against my car?” she asks sweetly.

“It’s a death trap, and it’s tiny,” he retorts. “And it doesn’t have air conditioning.”

“Can I choose the music, at least?”

“Detective, please.”

With a loud and very obvious click of her tongue, she follows him out. “Worth a shot.”

After relaying the address for Adam to punch into the sat nav, the rest of the journey passes in silence, though that hardly counts as a bad thing. It’s refreshing not being expected to make conversation. When they finally pull up in front of a bland semi-detached house in what passes for Wayhaven’s suburbs a few miles from the old wharf, they share a look that says he’s as unimpressed with their environs as she is. A line of leggy, parched shrubs overgrown with grass line the wall beneath the front window, the PVC window frames in good enough repair but grimy with dirt.

Leah leads the way up the garden path, alert for any movement inside that might suggest an attempted escape.

“Bloody hell,” she complains as she knocks on the door, “could you try to look less like a government agent?”

“I’m not an agent for the government,” Adam replies, sullen, his folded arms bulging the fabric of his t-shirt.

“It’s not a distinction most people –”

“Hello?”

She turns a friendly smile on the man clutching the edge of the door. He looks to be in his mid-thirties, rather scrawny, a balding IT type with a trimmed brown beard and wire glasses that frame dark brown eyes.

“Martin Johnston?” she checks, and holds up her badge. “I’m Detective Kingston, this is Adam du Mortain.”

The man has already flinched away as if to shut the door, but she stamps her foot down across the threshold before he can follow through.

“We were hoping for a few minutes of your time?”

“Are you from the government?” he asks.

“No,” Adam answers with a pointed glance sideways. “We are not.”

Leah tilts a polite smile at him. “Why would you ask that?”

“No reason.”

“May we come in?” she asks, with yet another smile. “You’re not paying to heat the street, after all.”

Martin glances over his shoulder. “No, I’m… No.” He swallows. “I’m – I’m very busy – with work – I don’t have time to –”

With a chirp, a tabby-and-white cat dashes out from between his legs and runs straight to Adam, then halts and sniffs the air with a plaintive meow, tail lashing. He frowns as he crouches down to offer his hand in greeting, and when the creature butts its head against his knuckles, purring like an engine, he lets out a hum that positively radiates displeasure.

“This cat recently given birth,” he says as he picks her up.

Their witness flinches again. “It’s not my cat.”

“But she ran out of your house,” Adam points out. Somehow, having his arms full of a madly purring cat that’s enjoying a scratch on the chin only makes him more intimidating.

“Uh… A friend of mine left her here while she’s away.”

“Well, I’m sure that friend wouldn’t want her getting run over,” Leah says. “We can bring her back into the house for you.”

“No!” Martin yelps. “You can’t come in!”

He tries to shut the door again but Leah is quicker and jams her foot properly in the doorway, glad of the heavy-soled boots he wears for work.

“I don’t like being heavy-handed, Mr Johnston,” she warns, leaning closer, “but I have a sports bag of abandoned kittens with rocks in the bottom and your name and fingerprints all over it, and now a nursing cat associated with your property, all within spitting distance of a murder scene.” She looms in, lowers her voice to a pitch little more than a growl. “You saw something the night you went to drown them, and I want to know what it is, otherwise I will make sure you’re brought up on animal cruelty charges, obstructing an investigation, and anything else I can make stick. Do you understand?”

Martin’s gaze flickers between Leah and the burly, glaring figure at her back, the fear in his eyes a palpable thing. And then, at long last, his shoulders slump. “You won’t believe me.”

“What did you see?” she presses.

He breaks. He reels back, running one hand through his thinning hair as he holds open the door and leads them into the living room. Adam still has hold of the cat, who seems to find the curl of his massive arms a suitable cushion, and he takes a perch on the edge of the worn sofa as their witness flops into the mismatched armchair opposite.

“It was dark.” He falters. “I…”

“Tell us from the beginning,” Adam instructs.

There’s a momentary struggle, and a fearful glance at the cat. “I… like to go for walks at night, to clear my head, you know?” It’s an obvious, inelegant lie, but she lets it go. “Sometimes I go to the docks.”

“And two nights ago?” Adam prompts. “What time were you there?”

Martin shrugs. “About midnight, or slightly later maybe? I wasn’t thinking about checking my phone. I heard a door open, then someone spoke, and then… it sounded like a struggle, something got kicked over, and there was a – almost a scream, but gasping, you know?”

“The voice you heard,” Leah asks, “what did it sound like?”

“It was a man, or at least, I thought it was. God.” Here he stops, drags a hand down in his face. “When I got closer to see what was going on, the light from the door –” His eyes narrow. “You are from the government, aren’t you? You’re here as a cover up, to silence me!”

Before he can do more than stagger upright, Adam is across the room, laying a hand on his arm. “Please calm down, Mr Johnston,” he says, in the same slow, deliberate voice he used on Garrett Hayes’ mother. “Tell us what you saw.”

Martin’s voice flattens, the inflection gone. “It was a monster, there was smoke coming off it, and it was struggling with someone behind it but it couldn’t turn around.”

“Can you describe the other person?” Leah asks, biting back disapproval at the use of pheromones.

“All I saw were these huge black eyes and bared teeth – grey skin.” He shakes his head. “I got out of there as fast as I could.”

Leah and Adam share a glance as Martin drops his head into his hands.

“That’s useful information,” she says, cold. “Now about that sports bag…”

“Wait, don’t I get some sort of deal, or something?” he wails. “You said I helped!”

“You were going to toss that bag off the end of the dock,” she snarls. “Those kittens were zipped up, trapped. They never stood a chance.”

“I didn’t know what else to do!” His eyes go wide, pleading. “I’m sorry. My useless ex didn’t tell me the cat was pregnant when she dumped her here. What was I supposed to do with kittens?”

“Most people don’t choose drowning them as a first option,” she snaps. “Stand up.”

Still under the influence of the pheromones, he complies, says nothing as she recites his rights and places the handcuffs around his wrists. When she walks him out to the SUV she gives him a brief warning look before depositing him on the back seat and stepping up beside Adam, who for the lack of anything more suitable has secured the cat in the equipment store in the boot.

“If you swing by the station and drop me off, I can get him processed while you take mama back to her babies,” she suggests, then spies his phone. “Who are you calling?”

“The Agency has a unit to take care of this,” he replies, features set.

“What do you mean, ‘take care’?”

“They will extract the memories of Russell Seakirk and erase them.” As if it’s obvious. As if it’s normal.

She folds her arms. “What if he’s needed to testify?”

“It is clear that whoever the murderer is, they are a supernatural or are aware that supernaturals exist.” He stares her down. “Ordinary measures will not work here, Detective. Will you still have enough evidence to press charges for the kittens?”

Trying to ignore the familiar feeling of having a case wrenched from her grasp, she turns and leans against the car. “I can ask the vet to do a DNA test to confirm the kittens belong to this cat, and if it comes back positive, combined with his prints on the bag and the fact that we found her in his house, it’s a solid case.”

“Good.” He nods, but his brow furrows as if he’s struggling with something. “I understand your hesitation in this, but this is the cost of keeping both supernaturals and humans safe.”

She scowls. “Let’s just get on with it. The sooner we drop him off, the sooner we can go piss off Walter Greene.”

Walter Greene is not in his office.

Expecting him to be there was probably a longshot, given that it’s past five and the Agency SUV is about as subtle as a brick through a window, but even though his secretary has clearly had practice dodging investigators for the big man, the combination of Leah’s badge and Adam’s sheer size flusters him enough to mention that his boss is out to dinner with the mayor. From there, it’s just a quick phone call to Douglas to find out his father’s schedule, and they’re off along the darkening country roads to the fancy golf club patronised by all the big city’s biggest fish.

By the time they get there night has truly fallen, though the spotlights beaming up beneath the immaculate topiary do their best to compensate. The whole place reeks of elitism – not the self-assured disdain of old money, but the neurotic overbearance of those fighting for a seat at the same table. From the purse in Adam’s lips, he doesn’t think much of the gilt wood panelling or the beige tartan carpet either, though the server at the front desk is polite enough and leads them through to the clubhouse’s dining room with little fuss.

Perhaps she just knows a losing battle when she sees one.

“Ah, Detective Kingston – and Commanding Agent du Mortain!” The mayor waves them over from the far corner, the broad, genuine smile on his aged face. “How wonderful to see you both – and how is your mother? I mean Agent Kingston, of course,” he adds, with a self-deprecating chuckle. “I hope she’s aware of all the fine work you do for our town.”

“Work is why we’re here, I’m afraid,” Leah answers, declining the chair the server pulls out for her.

“Ah, the murder, no doubt.” The mayor eyes the manilla folder in her hands. “Dreadful business. Well, anything I can do to help, I’m at your disposal.”

“We’re grateful,” Adam bites out. “Agent Kingston appreciates the accommodations you have made for the Agency.”

The mayor’s smile falters at the brusque tone, but he recovers valiantly. “And I’m sure you know Walter Greene, one of our foremost backers for the new development on Briars Lane.”

“We were actually hoping to borrow Mr Greene for a moment or two,” Leah says.

The businessman narrows his gaze at her. “I’m not sure what use I could possibly be to you, Detective.”

“Walter, be reasonable,” the mayor scolds, like his business partner is a misbehaving toddler. “It’s not like our young detective is here to arrest you – is it?”

“Not at all,” she tells him, her smile forced.

“We have some follow up questions about the statement he gave us yesterday,” Adam supplies. The deflection comes with surprising ease, the formal language like a soundbite from some crime show.

She shakes the thought away. “It should only take a few moments.”

“Well, I see no reason not to cooperate,” the mayor decides. “It’s not like your crab salad will scuttle off your plate if you leave it unattended for a few minutes, eh?”

With a terse smile Walter Greene sets his napkin on the tablecloth and rises from his chair. He’s about two inches shorter than Adam, but stretches himself outwards like a bullfrog as he leads them to a quiet corner of the lobby.

“I see you brought a bodyguard this time, Detective,” he notes. “I do hope our last interview didn’t leave you too rattled?”

“Do you have a problem with my colleague?” she replies.

Said colleague is probably flexing his muscles behind her back, given the flicker in Walter’s regard.

He snorts, bull-like. “What is this about?”

“Your goons beat up Russell Seakirk shortly before his death, and I want to know why.”

“What fanciful –”

But she’s ready for him, slips one of Verda’s photos out of the folder and shoves it under his nose.

“Seakirk was a supernatural,” she bites out. “No ordinary human could have made these marks, especially not when the symbol in the middle of that bruise is so unusual.”

“Did he ask for more money?” Adam presses, when the only response is a clench of the jaw.

“Maybe he refused to share the findings of his little expeditions with you,” she suggests. “I know he was looking for something in the lake, and that he either found it or was very close.”

“And we also know that whoever killed him knew what he was.”

The last nudge from Adam does it. With a roll of his eyes, Walter steps closer so his voice won’t carry. “As I already informed Detective Kingston, I am a businessman. It does not do to destroy the things that make me money.” He swallows. “There were rumours that Seakirk had found… what he was looking for, and others that he was planning to abscond with it, without providing me with what was contracted. If – when my associates went to remind him of his obligations – he got aggressive, they were perfectly within their rights to defend themselves.”

“By beating him half to death?” Leah checks.

“My associates cannot help it if a selkie isn’t built to take the same hits as a minotaur,” he retorts.

She decides to change tack. “Did he ever show signs of reneging before this?”

“No,” comes the answer, as if it’s mildly interesting. “This was a recent change in attitude. I couldn’t say why. And if you want more proof that I am not the murderer you seek, you should know I had a meeting scheduled with him for the morning after he was killed – you can check with my secretary.”

“What was the meeting about?” Adam asks.

“The return on my investment.” He leans back, tugs on his suit jacket to straighten it. “You guessed correctly, Detective. He found what he was looking for. And now, I think you’ve trespassed on my patience long enough. If you have any more questions, you’ll have to ask my lawyer. Good evening.”

He pushes past them, though carefully enough to avoid making a scene, and as he rounds the corner back into the dining room Leah blows a breath through her cheeks and sinks against the wall. There’s a raised eyebrow from Adam. She wafts it away with the case folder and pushes herself back up, eager to get away from this stuffy place with its pretentious lack of taste.

“I guess that officially makes that a dead end,” she says when they finally step outside.

“It confirms that something changed just before Seakirk’s death,” he replies.

“True.” She shrugs her coat tighter to keep out the chill. “You’re getting better at this, you know. Investigating. It’s almost like you’re a different person to when we first met.”

“Your praise is touching.”

She answers the stubborn quirk of his mouth with a grin, but it falls quickly as her mind turns back to the case.

“What is it?” he asks.

“There’s something about this treasure that’s not adding up. There’s nothing except that journal to say there’s anything valuable down there.” She shrugs. “Maybe he found out it wasn’t real after all and tried to escape, or maybe he knew it already and this whole thing was a con from the start, and that’s what got him killed.”

“Perhaps,” Adam allows. “Perhaps the treasure means nothing to the case.”

They reach the SUV, parked just beyond the reach of the clubhouse lights.

“It means something,” she insists. “Too many things keep coming back to it.”

Or perhaps it’s just her. As she sinks into the passenger seat and clips the seatbelt into place, doubt winds in like ivy to smother the certainty of her assumptions. At the first mention of sunken treasure, she tried to ignore the spark of excitement that lit in the pit of her stomach, the hope that the case would turn out like one of the adventure stories she read as a kid, even though every part of it – the journal, the legend, the mob boss, fucking selkies – seemed too perfect to be real. The sceptical, calculating, adult part of her brain should be keeping a tighter grip on reality.

And yet, between moonlighting for a supernatural Agency and having weird, mutated blood that makes her extra delicious, any standard definition of reality is so far out of sight that a mysterious sunken treasure at the bottom of a perfectly ordinary lake seems the least outlandish feature of the last few days.

“Will you drop me off at the station?” she asks, to stop the chase of her thoughts. “My car’s still there and I have to write up the interviews from today while they’re still fresh.”

Adam doesn’t take his eyes off the road. “Of course. Will you be coming to the warehouse when you’re done?”

“Mm – If I don’t finish too late.”

Really, there’s a headache starting behind her eyes, and it’s joining battle with the leaden, drowsy feeling that always steals across her when she’s in a car at night and someone else is driving. The steady pulse of the road markings as they’re eaten up by the windshield has a hypnotic effect, the drone of the tyres and the engine a low vibration beneath her skin. She shifts in the seat and blinks hard to banish the itch in her eyes, but it doesn’t get her far. The yawn still comes. It looks like dinner with Nate will have to be put off yet another night.

#the wayhaven chronicles #unit bravo #nate sewell #nate x detective #nate sewell x detective #adam du mortain #felix hauville #detective leah kingston #wayhaven fic #murder mystery

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ogsherlockholmes · 2 years

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20th October

The Mazarin Stone is one of the few Holmes stories which isn’t told through Watson’s perspective- it’s actually written through third person, which is important for today’s antagonists (yes, plural): Count Sylvius and Sam Merton.

Sylvius and Merton are exact opposites of each other in basically every way possible. Essentially, Sylvius is the ringleader, who is rich and has power and influence over people, whilst Merton is a lower class boxer who isn’t too bright and is sort of being coerced into the crime. Sherlock sums it up well:

“[Watson] Is this Count Sylvius one of your fish?” “Yes, and he’s a shark. He bites. The other is Sam Merton, the boxer. Not a bad fellow, Sam, but the Count has used him. Sam’s not a shark. He is a great big silly bull-headed gudgeon. But he is flopping about in my net all the same.”

To add some context, Sherlock is accusing Sylvius of stealing the mazarin stone, and Merton for helping.

The reason why the story being written in third person is important is because it allows us to see what the characters are doing when Watson isn’t there to see it, so it’s (supposedly) less biased and (supposedly) more reliable (this is still ACD we’re talking about though). So, when Sylvius enters Baker Street and neither Sherlock or Watson are not there to report it, we get a good idea about what his intentions are.

‘The famous game-shot, sportsman, and manabout-town was a big, swarthy fellow, with a formidable dark moustache shading a cruel, thinlipped mouth, and surmounted by a long, curved nose like the beak of an eagle. He was well dressed, but his brilliant necktie, shining pin, and glittering rings were flamboyant in their effect... he looked round him with fierce, startled eyes, like one who suspects a trap at every turn.’

After he enters, Sylvius is about to hit a wax bust of Sherlock (honestly, this bust must be state of the art because multiple people have fallen for it) before Sherlock stops him.

Then, some of the greatest villain-against-Sherlock dialogue follows, which I’m not going to quote down here because it’s basically the entire story (it’s all online though, and the other stories in the Holmes canon). It does involve Sherlock saying “Now, Count, if you will be reasonable we can do business. If not, you will get hurt.” which, if the occasion calls for it, is a powerful line in an argument.

Also, this speech as well:

“[Sylvius] You won’t die in your bed, Holmes.” “I have often had the same idea. Does it matter very much? After all, Count, your own exit is more likely to be perpendicular than horizontal. But these anticipations of the future are morbid. Why not give ourselves up to the unrestrained enjoyment of the present?”

[I know I said I’m not going to quote the entire thing but I can’t help myself.]

Sam Merton enters here.

‘The prize-fighter, a heavily built young man with a stupid, obstinate, slab-sided face, stood awkwardly at the door, looking about him with a puzzled expression. Holmes’s debonair manner was a new experience, and though he vaguely felt that it was hostile, he did not know how to counter it.’

Sherlock leaves so Sylvius and Merton have the chance to discuss if they’re going to give up the mazarin stone, and we get a glimpse of ACD’s impression of how working-class people spoke (note to all upper-class writers of that era attempting to write in a different dialect: please don’t. That’s aimed at Bram Stoker). Merton is highly suspicious of everything, thinking the bust is actually Sherlock listening in on them. He’s right to be suspicious, because the bust is actually Sherlock, but Sylvius says the Victorian equivalent of ‘Shut up’ to him, then continues to explain the entire plan. So, Sylvius basically gives them away and confesses.

Sylvius has a very low opinion of Merton, and won’t even let him touch the stone, which he carries around with him.

“[Sylvius] Here is the stone.” “I wonder you dare carry it...Let’s have a look at it.” Count Sylvius cast a somewhat unflattering glance at his associate and disregarded the unwashed hand which was extended towards him. “What–d’ye think I’m going to snatch it off you? See here, mister, I’m getting a bit tired of your ways.” “Well, well, no offence, Sam. We can’t afford to quarrel. Come over to the window if you want to see the beauty properly.”

And, if Sylvius can’t get careless enough, he gives the perfect opportunity for Sherlock to snatch the stone out of his hands.

‘The Count gave a gesture of resignation. “We give you best, Holmes. I believe you are the devil himself.” “Not far from him, at any rate,” Holmes answered with a polite smile. Sam Merton’s slow intellect had only gradually appreciated the situation.’

I included the last bit because, although Merton is presented as the ‘stupid’ one, he did actually figure out that Sherlock was listening in on them. Unsurprisingly, though, Merton is turned into another stereotypical working-class Victorian man

The police arrive, and both men are led away, where prison waits for them.

#the return of sherlock's bust #do you reckon he's named it #william maybe #acd #acd books #acd canon #sherlockholmes #Sherlock Holmes

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sluttywonwoo · 3 years

Text

the bet || j.ww x reader

Summary: you help your boyfriend’s best friend win a bet against your better judgement

Warnings: swearing, lil bit of jealousy, light smut (18+)

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

“Hey, can I ask a huge favor?”

You hoisted yourself up from your beach towel onto your elbows and pulled down your sunglasses to glare at the boy in front of you. You narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion. What could Kim Mingyu possibly want from you?

“What is it?”

He ran a hand through his still-wet hair awkwardly. “Um, the boys and I are about to play a game of volleyball, and we’ve bet some money on it…”

“Okay?”

“And, well, it’s me and Hansol against Wonwoo, Soonyoung, and Seungkwan. Wonwoo’s their best player and I was wondering if you could distract him? So that we have a better chance of winning?”

“Distract him… how?” you asked, not fully understanding.

“You know… whatever it is you do that drives Wonwoo crazy. He’s your boyfriend, I’m sure you know how to wind him up.”

“You mean you want me to get him hard during your game?”

Mingyu nearly choked at that. “Um, I mean pretty much, yeah. Just do something that will throw him off his game.”

“So you want me to help you guys cheat?”

“It’s not technically cheating.”

“I think your definition of cheating is much looser than mine.”

“So is that a no?” he asked.

You thought about it for a second. “Is there anything in it for me?”

“We’ll give you a cut of the winnings.”

You found yourself grinning. “How much did you guys bet?”

“Two hundred if they win, three hundred if we win. Basically whoever’s on the losing team has to cough up a hundred bucks.”

“Jeez, I can’t believe Wonwoo is risking that much on a stupid game.”

“Are you upset?”

“No, it’s his money he can do whatever he wants with it. I just think he’s a dumbass.”

“Not arguing with that.”

“Do you need me to remind you that you’re betting the same amount?”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled. “So you’ll do it? For a hundred?”

“Yeah, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Pleasure doing business.” Mingyu smirked and held out his hand for you to shake. You rolled your eyes at the formality but shook his hand anyway, just as Wonwoo came up to the both of you and clapped Mingyu on the shoulder.

“What are my best mate and my best girl talking about?” he asked, leaning down to kiss you.

“I wanted to go swimming, but Mingyu said you guys are about to play volleyball?” You piped up before Mingyu could say anything. Maybe you should’ve felt guiltier than you did about lying to your boyfriend and for what you were about to do, but hey, a hundred dollars was a hundred dollars . And if everything went according to plan, you’d be getting some good dick too. A win win.

Wonwoo frowned a little bit. “Oh yeah, sorry. Wanna play, love?” he offered. “There’s still some room on Mingyu’s team.”

You made a face. “What about your team? Can’t you make one of your other team members switch?”

He winced. “I love you, y/n, but you’re shit at sports.”

Any trace of remorse left over what you’d agreed to do dissolved in that moment. He fucking deserved what he was about to get.

“The stupid game is that important to you? Asshole,” you scoffed, and put your sunglasses back on before laying back down on the towel.

“Y/n,” Wonwoo whined, and crouched down next to you. “I-”

“Go play your fucking game.”

He stood back up, but lingered for a moment. You could tell he felt bad, but you weren’t having it. “Wanna go swimming after?” he asked in a quiet voice.

“Sure, whatever.”

You could tell he’d walked away when the shadow over you disappeared. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, you were a little pissed about the comment he’d made. Were you shit at sports? Yes, definitely, but could he have at least pretended to love you enough to be on the same team as you? Also yes. He should’ve known you were going to say no anyway.

While you were still fuming you hadn’t even realized the boys had started the game. Not even a minute in and you were already slacking on your end of the bet. You propped yourself back up for a moment to watch. You could see why Mingyu had asked for your help. Wonwoo and his team were dominating so far, and you couldn’t help but admire how fit your boyfriend looked as he served the ball to the other side of the court. You licked your lips absentmindedly, ready to pull him back to the car right fucking then.

You forced yourself to stop watching the game stood up from your towel, brushed yourself off, and began walking towards the water. You made sure to pull your bikini bottoms as far up your ass as you could in the process just to get Wonwoo’s attention as you walked past the volleyball net. Sure, you’d agreed to go swimming with him after the match, but you’d never promised to wait for him.

As you made your way down to the shore, you noted that not only Wonwoo’s head turned to watch you walk, but all five of the boys cast their attention away from the game and towards you. You glanced behind your shoulder for a second, and caught Mingyu’s smirk. He took advantage of Wonwoo’s lapse in concentration to spike the ball back over to their side and score a point.

You heard some yelling and protestation, but pretended to ignore it and continued to wade into the water.

It was warmer than you thought it would be, and deeper. There was a steep drop a few feet in that you might have tripped over if you weren’t careful. You only ended up staying in the ocean for a few minutes; Wonwoo couldn’t really get distracted by you if your whole body was submerged underwater. You weren’t there to swim around anyway, just to get your bathing suit wet so it would stick to your body.

You’d worn one that didn’t have pads in it so you knew that once you got out of the water the whole beach would be able to see your nipples poking through the fabric. You didn’t have a problem with that. Wonwoo might.

While you were down there you got your hair wet too, just for good measure. Might as well pull out all the stops since a hundred dollars were on the line.

You weren’t sure what the score was by the time you made your way back up to your towel, but you didn’t make an effort to ask. What you did know, though, was that Wonwoo was getting frustrated. Even from where you were you could see that his jaw was clenched and his brows were furrowed.

The opposing team seemed to be doing just fine though, and you stopped to watch them high-five each other after Mingyu scored another point by slamming the ball over the net onto Wonwoo side of the court.

“Damn, nice one, Gyu!” you called out from where you were standing, giving him a big smile and thumbs up. It was sort of dorky, not to mention a cheap shot, but if you knew Wonwoo as well as you thought you did, it’d be the perfect thing to rile him up.

“Thanks, y/n!” he shouted back and winked, ignoring the weird look Hansol gave him. “It’s about time you started rooting for the winning team!”

You struggled not to laugh when you looked back over to the other side of the court and saw all three boys scowling at Mingyu. You didn’t even know why he needed you in the first place, he knew how to push their buttons so well already.

Wonwoo’s fists were clenched now, and he looked this close to tackling his best friend to the ground. The two of you weren’t even flirting with each other, not really, but Wonwoo was the most competitive person you knew and it wasn’t always the best color on him. For you to be cheering for the team that he’s not on, and for that team to be winning- there was no doubt in your mind that he was royally pissed. Not to mention, that you just so happened to be cheering for his attractive best friend who may or may not have mentioned having sex dreams about you once or twice in passing.

It was good, but it wasn’t enough. Soonyoung made some offhand comment about how close the scores were so you knew you needed to keep going. You turned your attention away from the game again and lowered yourself down on your stomach on top of your towel and casually undid the strings of your bikini top to “sunbathe”.

If anyone asked it was so you didn’t get tan lines on your back, it was something that a lot of women did. In reality, however, you didn’t give a shit about tan lines, you just wanted to see how Wonwoo would react.

You pulled out your book to read while you tanned, tuning back into the game every once and a while to see how it was going. You could hear Soonyoung and Seungkwan yelling at Wonwoo to ‘pay attention’ or ‘snap the fuck out of it’ and smiled to yourself, excited for what was to come.

After several more minutes, your bathing suit was almost dry and you were starting to fall asleep on your towel. The volleyball game was taking way longer than you anticipated and you just wanted Mingyu and Hansol to win already. You didn’t have any other ideas to distract your boyfriend so you hoped they could pull it off.

Then, what you would call a fucking miracle happened. You were still nearly dozing off on top of your book when a pink Frisbee landed on the sand right in front of your face.

“Sorry about that!” called the voice of its owner and you squinted to see him jogging over to you. A few of his friends weren’t far behind and they all congregated in a little group in front of your towel. They looked to be about your age, maybe a little older. “Sorry to wake you up,” the ringleader apologized again, but smiled like he wasn’t really that sorry.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, one hand holding your loose bikini to your chest, while the other handed the Frisbee back to smiling guy. “No worries, I didn’t mean to fall asleep anyway.”

“What’s your name?” Ringleader asked. “I’m Jeonghan, and these are some of my fraternity brothers.”

Of course. You should’ve guessed. They were all jacked, tan, and had an air of privilege about them that you couldn’t miss. They were objectively cute, sure, but nothing in comparison to your boyfriend playing volleyball behind you. Not to mention their pack mentality freaked you out a little.

“I’m y/n,” you said and held your free hand out to them to shake, still keeping your other hand on your bikini top so you wouldn’t flash them. “Are you guys on a holiday break or something?”

“Yeah, just trying to make the most out of our last few days.”

“You from around here?” another boy asked, not being subtle at all in the way he was eyeing you.

“No, we just took a little day trip,” you explained and cleared your throat, wondering how long they’d stick around and when Wonwoo was going to come over and dick you down out of jealousy.

“We?” Ringlea- Jeonghan asked, cocking his head to the side. “Are you here with your friends?”

“Her boyfriend, actually,” Wonwoo piped up calmly from behind you. You looked back and saw him standing a few feet behind your towel with his arms crossed. He could be annoying, but fuck if he didn’t have good timing.

“Oh-uh, well I was nice to meet you.” Jeonghan mumbled abruptly and nodded to his friends to get back to their Frisbee game. They were gone before you could even say goodbye back.

“Attracting all sorts of attention today, aren’t you, love?” Wonwoo sneered and knelt down beside you.

His words went straight to the heat between your legs and you turned over onto your back to get a better look at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, daring him to challenge you.

“I think you do, y/n,” he continued. The way he whispered your name sent a shiver down your spine. “I mean, you’re practically naked in front of the whole beach right now.”

“I’m wearing a swimsuit.”

“You know what I mean. And all for what? To make me jealous? So I’d fuck you? Because you could’ve just asked, baby.”

You whimpered, but didn’t say anything and leaned up to kiss him, desperately wanting to feel his lips against yours. He leaned in too, but stopped just short of your mouth, pulling back a bit to look into your eyes. “I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one will notice.”

You moaned softly, wanting nothing more than for him to do exactly that. You weren’t even sure if you could wait to get home at this point, you wanted him inside of you now. He put a hand on each knee and spread your legs apart, whistling in awe at the wet spot on your bathing suit. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment. “I haven’t even touched you and you’re already this wet.”

“All because of you,” you panted, reaching out for him, but he pulled back.

“You know all of your teasing made me lose the game, right? I couldn’t focus because I was so distracted.” You nodded. “I was so fucking hard the whole match because of what you were doing”

And then your dumbass had to open your big mouth. “So Mingyu told you?”

Wonwoo pulled back, and gave you a confused look, clearly caught off guard. “Told me what?”

“Y/n, that was incredible, you were perfect!” Mingyu exclaimed as he ran up to you and Wonwoo, holding out a hundred dollar bill to you.

You winced as you took it, wishing you hadn’t said anything.

“Y/n, what the fuck?” Wonwoo demanded, even more frustrated than he had been a minute ago. “What were you incredible at?”

“Fucking distracting you, dude. I asked her if she’d be in on the bet with me for a cut of the winnings since you guys had more team members.”

Your boyfriend glared at you. “Is that true?”

“I mean, it’s just a game… and I thought it’d be fun,” you said quietly.

“That’s what you guys were talking about earlier, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, she didn’t need any convincing she was totally down-”

“Mingyu,” you interrupted, pinching the bridge of your nose, “please, if you have any mercy for my pussy please shut the fuck up.”

His face went scarlet and he shut his mouth without further comment.

“So that’s it?” Wonwoo asked, obviously not ready to drop the subject yet. “You’re just gonna sell out your own boyfriend that easy?”

“You said you didn’t want to be on a team with me!”

“Don’t turn this around on me! You’re the one who helped them cheat!”

“Oh I don’t know if I’d call it cheating,” Mingyu interjected again.

“Shut up, Mingyu!” you and Wonwoo both shouted.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Mingyu said quietly. “If I had known it was going to be this big of a deal I wouldn’t have asked her. I just thought I was being clever, that it’d be a fun way to beat you guys, but I’m sorry I went too far.”

Wonwoo sighed and ran a hand through his wet curls. “It’s fine. I’m sorry I overreacted.”

“So… we’re good?” Mingyu asked, holding out a hand to help Wonwoo up.

“Yeah, we’re good. Next time, though, we’re playing fair.”

“Deal.”

“Y/n, you still want to go swimming, love?” Wonwoo asked, turning back to you.

“We’re not- we’re not going home?” Despite everything you were still incredibly horny, and you’d been patiently waiting for Wonwoo to rail you for what felt like hours now.

“Not yet,” he said and helped you to your feet. “Let’s make the most of our beach day.”

“I think the rest of us are going to find an ice cream shop,” Mingyu added. “Winners are buying. Do either of you want anything?”

“No thanks, we’ll hang out here by ourselves for a while.” Wonwoo answered for the both of you.

He wrapped an arm around your waist as you walked down to the water together and you relaxed, enjoying the feeling of his warm skin on yours. Only once you were out of Mingyu’s earshot did he lean down and whisper “your ass is going to be seven shades of red for that little stunt once we get home,” in your ear. Now it was your turn to be distracted.

lmk what you thought; i always appreciate feedback)

wonwoo tags: @wonw00t

shoot me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist

#the bet #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader #wonu x reader #wonwoo x you #wonwoo x y/n #wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo smut #seventeen smut

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voidfcllen · 3 years

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FROM THE INBOX: “ please don’t look at me like that. ” / @quinzeltm Harley & Dick

“Look at you like what?” Nightwing has to avert his eyes, because he had been staring and he knew it. But it was hard not to stare at the sheer amount of destruction that Harley had caused. He’d been out of town long enough to have completely lost track of what was going on in Gotham, and maybe if he’d paid more attention he’d have been able to step in sooner. It was nice to think he could have helped, anyway.

What a way to ruinite with and old friend, huh?

“You’re lucky I got here before the big bad bat did. We should scram while he’s busy with the rioting down in crime alley. I don’t want to see you end up like them.”

#quinzeltm #❅ [ Dick Grayson // Ver.3 ] i’m like the RINGLEADER i call the SHOTS.#❅ [ Dick Grayson ] you’ll always be a CIRCUS KID.#❅ [ ANSWERED ] i make NO APOLOGIES for my muses.#❅ [ QUEUE ] am i HERE? probably NOT.

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levisbrainrot · 2 years

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AOT boys as older brothers— BRAINROT EVENT

EREN

having a brother like eren would be like CHAOTIC.

like he gives me “I can teach you how to sneak past mum and dad’s bedroom without making a sound but i’m definitely going to the party with you as payment” . which you’re like “fuck no, all my friends think you’re hot and that’s gross”

he would be the major teasing sort of brother. like bothering you to the point you’ve got him in a headlock in the kitchen, screaming “TAKE IT BACK RIGHT NOW!”

eren: “I SAID WHAT I SAID. NOT MY FAULT YOU’RE UGLY!”

has a habit of just opening your door and standing there without a word then walking away.

y/n: “can you at least shut my door?”

eren: “hm.. no”

he’s kinda protective but he would rather die than tell you straight forwardly. like he’s noticing you’ve been texting someone on your phone lately and he’s all up in your business being like,

“Who is he? where does he live? does he have a job? what does he look like? he better not be ugly cause you’ll be letting the jaeger genes down”

him, zeke and you together on a night out are your parents biggest stress ball . eren mainly being the ringleader, zeke being the dotting older brother to his siblings and going along and you just being the youngest and tagging along to their troublemaking.

rip tho cause one time eren got into a bar fight when you first went out with them and mama Carla was not happy to having to pick you three up from the police station @ 1am.

all three of you literally BEGGED the police officer to call anyone BUT mama Carla knowing she’s about to whoop your ass when you get home. got you arguing with your brothers like,

you: “this is all of your fault, you’re so stupid when you drink”

eren, who’s very offended at the accusation, : “ME??? YOU’RE THE ONE DOWNING SHOTS LIKE IT’S YOUR LAST DAY TO LIVE, THEN PICKING A FIGHT WITH SOMEONE YOU CAN’T WIN AGAINST???”

zeke who’s stressing about mama carla: “I’m never going out with you two again”

you: “zeke… stfu—”

overall though, eren’s a good older brother. he makes a lot of banter but he cares for you and makes sure you’re safe at the end of the day.

JEAN

jean is an overprotective brother with the tendency to irk you (intentionally or not)

like he gives me “no stay away from boys ESPECIALLY boys likes eren, don’t even look at a man, they’re all tool-heads” basically he’s your second dad.

when you were little you use to follow him EVERYWHERE and he use to pretend to hate it but secretly adored it. sometimes he gets a little sad whenever he thinks back on it and how you’ve grown up and no longer follow him like a little puppy.

also whenever you fell over when you were younger, instead of running to your mother or father you use to run to jean and he would hold you when you cried. in someway you still do the same presently,

you finished work and had a rough shift and you’d sit next to him on the couch like,

y/n: “…life sucks”

jean, looks at you from his phone: “yeah it does but what’s up?”

BIG LISTENER!!! always has his ears ready to listen to you rant.

however he makes these remarks that like piss you off. e.g. it’ll be 8 in the morning and you just rolled out of bed and he’ll be at the table eating breakfast and look up at you like,

jean: “wow you look like you’re on the brink of death”

got you glaring at him like, “bruh”.

calls you kiddo or mini (cause he likes to think you’re a mini version of himself).

he is a very good and protective brother. in some ways you view him more like your dad, he’s very understanding.

ARMIN

dude Armin would be such a sweet older brother. in similar ways to jean he’s protective but also he gives me like “secondary-parent” vibes.

like when you were little you would only listen to Armin whenever you got into trouble. your parents even said you were more dotting towards Armin than themselves.

armin would always read you books and even taught you how to read some of them before you could go to school.

at one point you were very shy and attached to armin, when he went to drop you off to your kindergarten class once (while he had to head off to high-school) you become like glue and glued yourself against his legs.

armin, trying to pry your strangely strong arms off of his legs: “cmon (y/n) i need to go to school”

you pulled the old tear-stained-face card on him and his heart melted. so he sat for half and hour with you in his lap on the floor, with other curious little kids approaching him, reading you your favourite book until you settled. (he never lets go of this memory now).

he would be the one taking care of you whenever you got sick. making you soup and checking your temperature.

he gets a little bit nervous whenever you meet annie. at this stage you only know her as a “really good friend” of Armins (deep down tho you already know she’s his gf but he’s just antsy to tell you, in a way you like keeping him nervous and on his toes about it, you find it funny).

CONNIE

Connie is a chill asf older brother, usually joining you in trouble.

like Connie does not give af if you’re seeing people, sneaking out or anything. he does however get antsy around eren and you just bc he knows eren’s a player and he’s like,

Connie: “not my baby sister. pick anyone else”

probably introduces you to smoking weed for the first time.

Connie: “JUST INHALE IT, IT’S NOT THAT HARD”

Y/n, on the verge of tears: “YELLING AT ME WON’T HELP”

Connie is like super chill and cool older brother. like if you wanted to hang out with him and his friends he’s laid back with it, letting you join in.

he’ll def buy you and your friends alcohol if you asked. but he’d give you a lecture in the process like,

“don’t let anyone take you away alone, if you start feeling sick just call for me, don’t overdo it okay?”.

but he is such a menace when you get into trouble with your parents and they’re giving you a lecture in the kitchen and he’s egging them on in the background like,

“Ooo ‘get her ma, ground her, make her stack the dishes every day this month—here use my shoe to throw at her”

Sasha always comes over and her and connie both annoy you like normal siblings. like sasha would be snooping through your bedroom while Connie’s on your bed, both of them high off their heads, bugging you. (lowkey they do it because you’re always a ‘warm’ person, they claim, to be around when high).

connie probably introduces you to his one-night-stands he brings home.

connie: “and that was lady 5 this week”

y/n, disgusted: “you’re such a whore”

#aot x reader #aot #attack on titan #eren x reader #eren jeager x y/n #jean kirschtein x reader #jean krischtein #headcanon aot #connie springer #connie x y/n #armin arlet x you #armin arlert #armin arlet headcanons

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makethatelevenrings · 3 years

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Flight, Fight, Freeze // Shangqi x gn!reader

requested? yes!

warnings: SPOILERS, mentions of guns

summary: Hanging out with your best friends proves to be dangerous when some men come for the rings.

Fight, flight, or freeze.

Those were the three reactions to traumatic situations. And you were currently experiencing freeze.

It had started off as the best night. Shangqi picked you up from your apartment and the two of you grabbed some hybrid Mexican-Korean tacos before walking through some of San Francisco's parks. It was here that you were confronted by eight men wielding guns.

Your best friend shielded you instantly and you gripped his forearm, feeling the steady press of the metal rings through his sweatshirt sleeve. He normally never wore them out, but today he mentioned feeling antsy and decided to wear them. You were glad he did because even with years of martial arts under his belt, there was no way he could take on eight guys with guns.

“We don’t want any trouble,” he snarled, his hand pressing against your hip as he blocked you with his body.

“Good, that’s real good. You give us the rings and we’ll leave you and your little toy alone,” the man in front chuckled.

“Shangqi,” you whispered in panic. His fingers dug into your skin, not painfully, and you inhaled sharply. After the fall of Wenwu and the passing of the rings, low level threats had plagued Shangqi ever since.

But never this large. And never when you were with him.

You were a witness to his power at the battle of Ta Lo, but fear still clutched your body at the thought of losing him. You could imagine that he was thinking the same about you.

One finger tapped against your skin over the fabric of your shorts.

Two fingers.

Three.

You shoved yourself back and hit the ground, scrambling away as the rings emerged from under his sweatshirt and cut a swath of power through the ground. It was all so terrible and everything happened so quickly, you could barely keep up with all the movement.

But what you did see was Shangqi taking a particularly nasty punch straight to the gut that had him flat on his back, the rings tumbling from his grasp.

You don’t know why you did it. Was it fear? Rage? Genuine fucking stupidity? One second your ass is on the ground and the next, you’re standing in front of your best friend and stretching out your hands. Honestly, it was so stupid.

But then the rings clasped themselves over your forearms. With a surprised blink, you looked down to find the ten metal circles decorating your arms. Raising your hands at the men, a blast of energy shot out and sent the ringleader flying thirty feet backwards and into a tree. You winced but recovered quickly to pull yourself into the fighting stance Ying Nan taught you months before in Ta Lo.

“Little fun fact,” you announced. “He’s a lot nicer than me.”

The men watched you carefully, unsure as to what to do. Do they take the risk of calling your bluff and potentially get their asses handed to them? Or do they back off?

A foot nudged your ankle and you quickly dropped your arms, letting the rings slide off and onto the arms of their rightful owner. Shangqi pushed himself into a standing position with some flip thing that you made a mental note to ask him to teach you later.

He dispatched the remaining men with ease, leaving you to finally comprehend the weight of what just happened. You just handled rings that were thousands of years old and spat energy out like a pissed off llama. Did that really just happen?

“Hey, hey.” Hands covered your shoulders, pulling you out of your racing mind. You raised your head to meet warm brown eyes that raked over your body in search of some kind of mark or injury. “Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you, right?”

“‘M fine,” you mumbled out. “You? Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay. Shit, that was a lot. Shit. Are you sure?” Fear laced his words and he cupped your cheeks with his larger hands, his calloused thumbs stroking along your cheekbones.

“I’m fine. I swear, I’m fine. That was a hell of a rush,” you joked. A surprised laugh spilled out of your mouth that was swallowed by the insistent press of his lips against yours. You gasped into the kiss and then instantly softened, your arms coming up to twine around his neck as his hands settled on your waist.

Your lungs burned for air and you finally pulled yourself away, the taste of him still on your lips. He immediately stepped back, his eyebrows furrowed. You immediately felt the loss of his touch and let out a soft noise of discontent.

“I’m sorry, I...I should have asked,” he stammered out.

“Did you hit your head?” you asked, curling your fingers around the collar of his hoodie and pulling him in for another kiss. He laughed against your touch and you savored every bit of his presence.

“By the way,” he murmured when you broke apart once more. “That was really hot.”

a/n: hi yeah, this isn’t my best work and i’m frustrated by that but i felt like i needed to get something out. grrrr. college sucks. i wish i could just make money doing this lol.

tag list: @laamaking @dreamingsmile @katlucas10 @whitelotusfighter @wintrrrsoldier @songbirdcannabe @elleclairez @ellie-luna26 @sweaterstripes999 @xiaolingchi @wild-rose-35 @spideysimpossiblegirl @sweetheartliz07

#shang chi imagine #shang chi x reader #shang chi and the legend of the ten rings #shangqi x reader #shangqi imagine #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #mine #requested

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stayatiny · 2 years

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Thorny Vines~ Vampire! BTS Rap Line

(Gif made by me and for now using a gif of Hobi :)

Vampire! Rapline (BTS) x fem reader

Warnings – Human auction, mentions of murder and human trafficking

A/N – I’m slowly getting back into the swing of things. I’ve had writers block for the longest time until I wrote this and I’m working on another chapter for Little Dolly and Run and Hide

Forever Tags- @joti17

“Sold to Kim Namjoon!” the auctioneer slammed the gavel on the podium. I shuttered at the slam. It’s been a week since I was taken on my way home from work. I woke up dizzy and surrounded by red eyes. I knew that vampires were around us but didn’t know they would kidnap innocent people off the street. A man walked onto the stage jerking me up by my arm. He pulled me close to his body. I started to shiver some as it is winter now and I barely had any clothes on or shoes for that matter.

“Thank you for your contribution, Mr. Kim.” The man holding my arm didn’t say anything but nodded his head. I soon see 6 other men get on the stage as well. One man with a heavily tattooed arm pulled out a gun pointing it to the auctioneer’s head.

“Kill them all,” Namjoon said to the others they nodded, and all pulled out guns. Namjoon took his jacket off putting it on my head to muffle the sound of gun shots and screams. I squeezed my eyes shut trying to block out the sounds. He picked me up as we reached outside. He kept my bare feet from touching the cold, snowy ground. Namjoon pulled me into a limo holding me close.

“What’s your name?” I stared at him. He covered my legs with a blanket that was in the seat next to us.

“I won’t hurt you.” The limo drove slowly through the streets.

“Y/N.” He smiled as we stopped as a small restaurant. Namjoon put some UGGs on my feet. They actually fit me. The thin dress I wore gave little barrier to the cold wind. I pull Namjoon’s jacket tighter.

“Let’s get you some food. It looks like you haven’t eaten in a while,” he says helping me out of the car. We sat at a table in the back of the restaurant as he ordered us some ramen.

“I got you beef. You need the protein.” I nod and look down at the table. He sat back in his chair arms crossed his chest. His chest and arms bulging. I slightly blush as I was probably staring to long.

“You’re awfully quiet,” he says. I look at him then.

“I’m not really sure what to say,” I say messing with my hands in my lap. He nodded in agreement.

“Well, I’m sure that you do have some questions about what you saw tonight,” he says leaning forward.

“I do but I didn’t want to question too much. It’s not really my place to ask questions about it. I’m not a vampire nor do I come from a vampire family. I’ve only known a few in my life,” I say.

“You’re smart. I will tell you that you were needlessly brought into our world because of the recklessness of others. The men that you saw tonight were my colleagues. We are what you call the police of the vampire world. We had been tracking a group of human traffickers kidnapping and selling humans for any vampire wanting to have their own personal blood bag. The auctioneer was the ringleader that we killed. I’m sorry that you had to deal with them.” Before I could say anything, the food was being delivered to the table. I smiled seeing the steaming bowl. Namjoon smiled as well. He had cute dimples.

“So, what happens now?” Namjoon finished his bite before speaking.

“Well, first we get you warmed and cleaned up then report to the elders what happened tonight. After that you will more than likely be returned to your home and family,” he says before grabbing another bite.

“What if they chose not to let me go home?” He paused like it’s the first time anyone has asked that question.

“They will decide what happens to you then. But trust me they have no interest in killing humans. They want to keep the peace with your kind.” We continue to eat making small talk like what I did for a living or my favorite book rather boring stuff really. We finish eating and Namjoon pays for dinner.

“Thank you for the food,” I say fidgeting with my hands again. He smiled a little taking a break from the stoic expressions.

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” I sat back in the seat feeling warmer than before eating dinner. I don’t remember dozing off until I feel Namjoon shaking me awake.

“Y/N, we’re home. Come on I need you to wake up and then you can get a shower,” I hear him say. I nod following him to the bathroom. He gave me a pair of his sleep pants and a t-shirt to sleep in.

"When you get out meet me in the living room." I nodded again as he left the bathroom. There was already a towel and washcloth on the counter. I started the water letting it heat up before starting to undress. I hop in letting the hot water warm my body. I sigh washing my hair then body. I reluctantly get out and dry off. I quickly get dressed and opening the door. I hear Namjoon talking to others. I assume he's talking to the elders by the way he's speaking. I took a deep breath before entering the room. Before me I see four older men sitting at the dining room. Namjoon stood in front of them. They see me instantly.

“Oh, Y/N, just in time. The council wants to have a talk with you." I swallowed hard. I stood next to him.

"Miss Y/N, we will not hurt you. We just want to speak with you about the events the night you were kidnapped." I sat at the table in front of them. They smiled warmly. I didn’t know where to begin.

“I was on my home from my job at a florist when I was approached by a younger man that looked closer to my age. He said that he needed help finding his little sister. It was day so I didn't think anything of it. Next thing I know, I feel a sharp pain in the back of my head. I then wake up in a cage with a few female vampires around me. They didn’t say anything to me and that was all until the auction started.” The took notes and spoke amongst themselves. One finally looked at me.

“Thank you, Miss Y/N. Could you please leave the room while we speak with Mister Kim?” I nodded and left the room. I end up in a library/study. I was nervous as to what would happen next.

“Don’t be nervous.” I hear a soft voice behind me. I jump around to see a man with soft brown hair and beautiful red eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you. I could hear your thoughts. You don’t have to be afraid of us.” He approached me slowly his chest and shoulders wide. He was taller than me but there again most people were. His height the soft features remained me of a kitten. The man smiles. Oh, shit yeah, he can read thoughts.

“A kitten huh? That’s a new one.” I wanted to melt into the floor. His hand caressed my cheek.

“It’s alright. I’ve been called many things in my life, but a kitten is a new one.” I let out a nervous chuckle.

“Yoongi, are you bullying this poor girl,” I hear another voice call out. I look behind Suga to see a taller male with a sunshiny smile. His body built like a dancer. Seeing him smile was enough to make my legs weak. I watch as the taller man enters the room. Suga looked to him.

“No Hoseok. I’m just talking to her about the Elders. I didn’t want her to be afraid of us.” Hoseok nodded in agreement. That’s when Namjoon came back into the room.

“I finished speaking with the Elders. They seem to think that there are others out there. They even seem to think that the auctioneer wasn’t the only leader. In correlation with the other kidnappings that have been happening in the area, there seems to be more than one leader,” he says sitting on the velvet couch next to some shelves. I bite my lip. Namjoon sighed before speaking again.

“The Elders believe that having Y/N would be safer here than at home since she has been exposed to our world and since the fact that she knows who some of the culprits are." I frowned.

"So, what do we do now," I asked. Namjoon stood up and walked towards me. He didn't say anything other than putting his hands on my shoulders.

"You will stay here so we can protect you. I know that you must be scared but we need to protect your kind and you from getting hurt." I nodded, not fully understanding what's going on.

"But what about my job? I can't just freeload off of you.” The three men laughed at me.

"Don't worry about it. We can make sure that you get everything you need,” Yoongi says.

“But what about money,” I say. Namjoon smiled.

“I don’t think you get that we are old, Y/N. Trust us we can afford to keep you clothed and fed,” he says. I again nod.

“But for now, lets get you to bed. I know that you must be tired.” Namjoon led me to a luxurious bedroom. The bed had silk sheets and big open windows looking out over the city.

“Wow Namjoon this room is beautiful.” He lets out a chuckle.

“Thanks. It’s my room.” I twisted around looking at the man.

“I can’t take your room from you.” Namjoon’s eyes widen. He put his hands on his waist.

“It’s alright, Y/N. I don’t get to sleep that often. I sleep every four days or so,” he explained. I frowned. He then grabs me and carries me to the bed. I grip onto his neck thinking that he would drop me. Namjoon held me tight to his body. I finally get a good look at the man’s face. His eyes a beautiful shade of red.

“What are you looking at?” I blushed.

“Um nothing. I thought something was on your face,” I lie. He smirks then placing me on the bed.

“Get some sleep. Yoongi will take you to get some clothes in the morning.”

“Good night, Y/N,” he says then shutting the door. I whisper a good night laying back on the bed. I stare at the ceiling for a while before falling asleep under the fluffy blankets.

I check on the girl in my bed, before going back to my office. I cracked the door to see the girl snuggled down into the sheets lightly snoring. I sighed, then shutting the door leaving her alone. I see Yoongi and Hoseok sitting in the two armchairs in my office.

“What are you two doing here still?” They never stayed here this late.

“We need to talk to about this girl. We all have the mark show up on our arms. What about you?” They both showed me the thorny vine mark on their wrists. I look down at mine seeing theirs matched. This was nothing new.

“The mark’s gotten darker since she’s shown up. We need to see if she has this same mark,” Yoongi says, heading to my bedroom to see the girl. We follow after him. Yoongi gently opened the door going over to see Y/N. She was still sound asleep not having moved. Yoongi pulled the blankets back softly grabbing Y/N’s right wrist. Along her small wrist was the thorny vine wrapped around it. The three of us look at her then to each other. We finally found our soulmate.

#vampire bts #bts rap line #bts fanfic #bts

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wpdarlingpan · 3 years

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I have a suggestion! What about pan or jerome valeska kiddnaping the reader/oc? Ik its pretty basic, but maybe pan kidnapps her to obress Emma and Jerome kiddnapps her because he is fond of her appearance yk? Maybe a little bit yandere style.

Thank u I hope you like my suggestions!

Thanks for my first suggestion! I hope it’s good :)

Please let me know if there is something I should fix for later suggestions. Be it my writing style, or if you’d prefer me to make an OC for the story.

Also TW with just a mention of how Greenwood is charged with Rape and Murder. It’s only the mention and will not be brought up further.

Now on with the story.

Background information: Y/N is the daughter of Jim Gordon and Barbara. She isn’t associated with Barbra since she went slightly crazy. She considers Lee like her mom. Her dad is very over protective since he’s seen the dark side of Gotham. She is 18 years old and somewhat shy/innocent from being protected by her dad.

“Bye dad! Love you!” Y/N yelled out as she approached the front door of their apartment. She was hoping to leave before her dad could give her the talk she always got before leaving the house but luck wasn’t on her side. She also felt the teeniest bit of guilt for rushing out so quickly as she and her dad had a good relationship and she knew he was just trying to protect her.

“Wait.” He spoke coming down the hallway into the room. He knew she didn’t like the fact she had to go over rules before she left the house but he’d been even more nervous since there was a breakout at Arkham.

“Yes?” Y/N questioned.

“Got your phone?”

“Yep.”

“Charged?”

“100%.”

“House key?”

“Definitely.”

“Emergency money?”

“Right in my pocket.”

“Pepper spray?”

“Yep and with the safety on so I don’t accidentally spray myself... again.” She spoke while looking down sheepishly.

“All right love you kiddo. Remember what I said about those people who broke out yesterday.”

Jim spoke while lightly kissing the side of her head and let her go to school.

“I remember. Also love you Always and forever dad. Don’t forget you have a date with Lee later!” Y/N reminded before closing the door to make her way to the Gotham High school. Her dad had bought her a car so she would be more safe getting to and from school as he didn’t trust city busses or taxis. She didn’t mind though it was nice and she was able to play some music while she drove.

Once she arrived at the school she saw the cheerleaders loading onto the bus. She was a photographer for the yearbook and it was one of their first football games for the year so they send her to photograph for the team. She was way to shy to actually try out for it. Once double checking if her car was locked she put the keys in her pocket and made her way to the bus with her camera looped around her neck.

She got on first as the rest of the cheerleads were talking outside the bus with the coach. Y/N sat in the very back with her feet up next to her as a sign of ‘do not sit by me’ she was rather short so it was comfortable as well. She then pulled out her phone and began to text her dad that she was safely on the bus. He replied with a quick ‘ok’ and ‘be safe’ then she started to play a game on her phone as the cheerleaders began to load onto the bus. Once everyone was on the bus they drove away from the school at the cheerleaders were practice their cheers. The. Whole. Ride. It was beginning to get on her nerves as she preferred the peace and quiet but she knew that being on a bus with cheerleaders would be anything but. She grabbed one side of her headphones and began to play music. She lightly tapped her fingers to it and looked out the window.

They drove for about 20 more mins before they were stopped. A red truck had pulled in front of them and people approached the truck. She spotted guns in their hands. She quickly dialed her dads phone and begged for him to pick up.

“Y/N? What is it?” He could tell by her erratic breathing that something was wrong.

“There are people with guns on the bus! They just shot the driver. We are on (random Gotham street) please hurry!”

“I’m on my way! Try and stay on the line.” She said a quiet okay she a boy with red hair entered the bus. Jim quickly ordered police officers to make their way towards the scene.

“I want you all to know... this was a very difficult decision for us.” The boy spoke as he waved around his guns as if it was a toy. Y/N had already ducked down in her seat after a different person had handcuffed them to the seats. She wanted to stay out of of the seemingly ringleaders point of view as she watching her phone continue to hold the call with her dad and her headphone was in on low in order for him not to hear the phone. She still listened from her other ear to be aware.

“It was between you and a senior citizen bingo party.

In the end, we decided to skew a little younger.” He spoke while putting the gun to one of the girls heads. He walked towards the back of the bus as he continued his speech. She heard him coming and quickly tucked her phone into her pocket along with the headphones.

“Youth won the day. Sorry.”

He had reached the back to the bus and was about to turn around when he saw her tucked into the seat. She was very small and if he didn’t know this was a high school bus he would have thought she was a kid. She looked up at him with terrified doe eyes and he looked at her with a smile. He liked her. The innocence in her eyes that made him swoon. She clearly wasn’t like his whore of a mother. She would make a good partner.

“And who might you be.” He spoke while he used his charm. He lifted her chin up lightly with his unoccupied hand as the gun still rested in the other. She scooted as far away as she could with the handcuffs keeping her in place.

“Y-Y/N.” She stuttered out in fear. She was trying to hide not stand out. He moved her hand away from the start of the handcuffs and brought up his gun to which she began squirming at as it was raised.

“Shh, just going to get these off.” He attempted to comfort but it was honestly more frighting what was he going to do.

He shot the handcuffs and the bullet got lodged into the seat as she was detached from the seat but still had the cuffs around her wrist.

“You’ll be coming with me Doll.” He spoke while tugging her up from the seat as the cheerleaders continued to cry at the situation.

“No!” She attempted to struggle but she was too small to get away. But he held onto her. He tugged her out of the bus before giving her to Aaron. Since he didn’t trust Greenwood with his girl. Not like he trusted Aaron any more but he wasn’t charged for rape.

Aaron obeyed and tightly held her as Jerome put back on his crazy face and went back onto the bus.

“Give me an "O"!” He shouted to make fun of them.

“I said, give me a "O".” He shot the roof of the bus making the cry harder.

“O!” The cried out through their tears.

“ Give me an "N".” He spoke again with enthusiasm

“N!”

“Give me another "O"!”

“O!”

“What does that spell?” He questioned while greenwood handed him a hose that would spray gasoline out from the truck they had stolen.

"Oh, no!"

He walked up and down the isles of the bus and sprayed each and everyone one of them with gasoline while they all screamed in fear.

He finished and walked out of the bus and grabbed a lighter from his pocket.

“Ready? Okay!” Jerome said as he attempted to make the lighter work. The flame wouldn’t appear and Y/N continued to struggle in Aaron’s arms but for the man it was nothing. Dobkins was bouncing in his place with anticipation.

But it never lit.

“This is so embarrassing.” Jerome spoke harshly. He was making a fool out of himself in front of his girl.

“Anyone got a light?” He requested from the group of cheerleaders. Y/N was questioning if he really expected them to give him one since he was trying to kill them. He walked off after they all cried out a ‘No’ and winked at Y/N as she looked at him making her glance away hoping for her dad to hurry.

“I do. I got...” Dobkins replied while reaching into his own pocket to grab a lighter.

As Dobkins went to hand Jerome the lighter sirens sounded and police pulled onto the scene. She began struggling more as Aaron held her with one hand and shot with the other with little to no aim.

She saw as her dad got out of the car and quickly held up his gun. His heart stopped as he saw his daughter in the hands of one of the Maniax.

“Stand your ground, boys. They can't shoot at a bus.” Jerome smugly told the crew. He glanced at his doll to see her struggling still while eyeing one of the officers.

“Hold your fire! Hold your fire!” Jim quickly yelled in fear one something hitting his daughter or the bus.

“Dad!” She yelled out as she attempted to kick Aaron but did little to no damage.

Jeromes eyes widened with surprise. Jim Gordon had a daughter? This would be two birds with one stone. He smirked as Jim looked panicked.

“Aaron, Greenwood, get the truck started. And pass me my girl.” Jerome demanded. Y/N was shoved towards Jerome who caught her with a arm wrapped around her waist. He spotted her phone in her pocket and tossed it onto the pavement so they couldn’t be tracked nor could she call.

The officers had ducked behind their cars as Jerome shot at them.

“We're gonna blow this barbecue stand, huh Doll?” He told her as he tugged her towards the truck as her dad tried to follow before he was shot at again.

Greenwood sat on the outside holding onto the bus with the hose.

“Light 'em up!” Jerome spoke as he turned around and made a round motion with his arm to Dobkins who struggled with a lighter as well.

Jerome laughed manically as he got into the truck with her on his lap to which she blushed making him smirk and they began to drive off leaving Dobkins with the police.

Soon they were out of view and Jim quickly drove the bus away from the flames that had fought when the lighter was dropped. He needed to get his daughter back.

Y/N had a blind fold put on her as they left the scene to head back to Galivants building. Once they arrived Jerome picked her up bridal style and carried her into the building. He was stopped by the man himself as he headed to his room.

“And whose this?” He questioned quite poshly. She couldn’t recognize the voice but it seemed familiar.

“My girl.” He replied looking Galivant in the eye with a murderous look, daring him to say she couldn’t stay.

“Fine. But she stays in your room. Wouldn’t suggest having her out here with Greenwood.” He spoke before walking away to his office. Jerome laughed at even the thought of letting Greenwood anywhere near her. He brought her into his room and sat her on the bed. He quickly locked the door with a key to which he placed in his pocket before removing the blindfold.

Y/N blinked to adjust to the light and when she did she quickly scrambled back on the bed, away from the boy in front of her.

“Oh Y/N your never getting away from me. Not now, not ever.” He spoke before laughing crazily making her whimper and her eyes water. She curled up in a ball in an attempt to shield herself away from the boy.

“Well Doll, welcome to your new home. By the way, the names Jerome. Jerome Valeska.”

Y/N began to shake, her dad had told her about his interview. She should have for the hint from the fact of his unsettling laughter.

She was utterly screwed.

Let me know if you’d like a quick part 2

Also, please suggest things to write 😁

#jerome valeska #gotham #story prompt #oneshots #jerome valeska x reader #jim gordon #male yandere #love at first sight #writing

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