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ohraicodoll · 1 year

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I want more smut of joel and red🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

For all the people requesting a jealous!Joel fic companion to Territorial 💥

Dominant Joel Miller x Feral Reader The Last of Us 3.6k Words/ 3rd POV Feral Reader Masterlist Summary: Jealous and rational don't mix. Warning: Explicit sexual content. 18+ Minors DNI

Joel knew Red was trying hard to be a part of the community. And he was proud of her, proud of all the progress she had made, excluding a few setbacks but some of them weren’t her fault.

She was a different person when other people were around or when she was outside the walls of their house. She’d always been quick to argue with him, could easily chat with Ellie, and late at night they’d talk about whatever came to mind in hushed whispers between cooling sheets. Outside though, it was hard for her to speak a full sentence easily, much less a whole conversation. She growled more often than not, glared constantly, most of the time wouldn’t even respond at all. She talked clearest when she was angry. He never thought he’d be the more talkative person in a relationship, but here they were. So he was surprised to see her talking to someone else. Was even more surprised when he saw her talking to them multiple times. Noah worked at the wood mill some times and on the construction crew when they needed him. Joel had worked with him a few times, the most recent being the second water tower they were building, but he was more focused on the job than making friends. The guy was younger than him, brighter, sometimes a little cocky. Eager to please and overconfident. Which is why he was confused Red of all people was talking to him. She was quick to push people away that tried to approach her. It was something they were working on, but she had only a small, small circle of people that she was mildly comfortable with and only them. Noah was not in that circle. Noah didn’t work in the kennels or do patrol consistently, the two places Red would be around other people most. She didn’t go to the food halls, she didn’t go to the monthly Jackson get-togethers, and she wasn’t a part of the welcoming committee. But there she was, arms crossed, nodding to whatever Noah was saying outside one of the community scrap heaps. Joel chewed on his lip, brow furrowed, watching intently and trying to decipher what their lips were saying from a distance. The younger guy was talking a bit rapidly, head bobbing, with his eyes focused on her with a small smile. And she nodded back, twisting the rubber band around her wrist, before replying.

There was no stutter. He watched her mouth and the way they formed words. Joel had watched that mouth more times than he would care to admit and knew her patterns. No stutter.

Something in his gut tightened and his frown deepened.

When their conversation ended, Noah laughed at something and waved goodbye. Red turned and started to walk away, her eyes on the ground and lip between her teeth when she caught sight of him across the way. They always could feel when the other was around, a sense developed over the months traveling. Like two magnets.

Joel was leaning against one of the walls and didn’t look away as she headed over, his arms crossed tight across his chest. The weather was in that state where it didn’t know if it wanted to be cold or warm and the flannel shirt he had on was rolled up to the elbows, her own unbuttoned and hanging loose over an undershirt. He was sure that was his shirt as well.

“Hey,” she greeted him and he wanted to drink in the softness in her voice that was only for him and Ellie.

He nodded back and instantly the words were out of his mouth before he could process them, “What were you up to?” It didn’t sound accusatory, thankfully, it was luckily more curious in tone but for some reason it filled him with anxiety seeing her talking to another man easily. One that was younger and attractive.

Red’s eyes met his briefly then averted as she shrugged, “Just kennel stuff.” No further explanation. He knew when she was lying and the anxiety tightened.

But pushing Red was like moving an immovable wall sometimes and he wasn’t going to keep at it when there was no reason to push. It would piss her off and the last thing he needed was a faceoff after the long morning he had dealing with Tommy and the construction crew.

So he let it go, walking with her back home, his hand in her back pocket.

That night the thoughts surged back to life.

The anxiety and tiny hints of fear were on his tongue and he tried to bury them in her skin. Hands fisting in her hair as he pulled her head to the side and left a trail of bruises along her neck, sucking and licking his way to the stars tattooed on her collarbone. He remembered the first time he got to kiss that very spot, how he had been picturing it even when they snapped at each other. The memory twisted and turned into a need to show her exactly what he could do to her, how he could make her feel.

It wasn’t quite worshiping. He wasn’t a beggar at her altar. No, that wasn’t them.

She was his and it was a reminder, a hand on her neck to show her where she belonged. That they were blood and death and teeth and needed each other and the other men were too soft skinned for her. They’d try to tame her and he wanted her as she was.

His hands were large on her and he gripped her tightly, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs and pulling her wet core to his mouth. Joel devoted all his focus to making the rise of her breath hitch, to pulling a symphony of moans from her mouth as she squirmed against his tongue. He licked and sucked every ounce of fight from her, having her panting and thrusting into his mouth. She came hard and even then, he didn’t let up, growling at her when her hands tried to bat him away and only shoving his palm against her stomach to hold her down and in place.

The second orgasm exploded out of her and he watched as her back arched off the bed, memorizing the way the moon glistened on her sweat soaked body. He fucked her hard, his name spilling from her mouth in a chorus, urging him on. He relished in the sound of it. And when he came and spilled into her, both of them heaving and warm bodies clinging together, he hoped he was branded into her skin the way she was burned into him. It was a hiccup, a small moment of jealousy over nothing, and he drowned it out. She was his. It flared back to life after seeing Noah talking to her at the kennels. Maggie the mama dog was loose and trotting around at their feet happily, free from her needy pups, while Red talked to him. His hand would come down and pat the dog as he nodded along to whatever she was telling him. She seemed confident, focused, and it twisted something to see her interacting with someone else like that. Part of him argued that he should be proud of her, that this was what they wanted. The other part wanted to rip the guy’s eyes out for even looking at her. Something hot and tight flared in his chest, pressing against his lungs, and he couldn’t keep himself from heading over, footsteps heavy and brow pinched together. Her words faltered as she caught sight of him and that coil in his chest tightened a bit more. Maggie wagged her tail and hopped around him, excited to see someone she interacted with often. Joel wanted to seem casual, wanted to not seem like the jealous asshole boyfriend-partner-whatever he was. But seeing her next to Noah again with her hair up, neck a long naked slope, worn jeans clinging to her thighs, made him all too aware how good she looked. And he was sure others had noticed that as well. The soft, “Hey” she greeted him with was muffled in his head as he walked up to her and instead of greeting her normally, he pulled her into a hard kiss. His hand was on her cheek, tilting her head up, while his other found its spot in her back pocket, squeezing her backside through the jeans. He was never into PDA, had never kissed her in public, but this was less about them and more about the clear message he was sending to Noah. She was his. She bit down on his lower lip, not too hard, but clear in its own message. A warning. Joel pulled away and didn’t meet her eyes, could feel the suspicion burning into his face from her gaze as he turned and looked at Noah. “What’s going on here?” He tried to keep his voice calm and level, more interested than prying, but he knew he was scowling. Noah was hardly ever intimidated by him when they worked but knew what to avoid to keep from getting glared at. Now he looked nervous and Red’s gaze had swiveled back to look at him, trying to communicate something Joel wasn’t sure about. Lips pressed together tightly, the younger guy shook his head, hands slightly raised, “Nothin’ much! Just going over some uh…stuff here. Uh, I’ll catch you later, Red.” When he went to scurry off, Maggie tried to follow a bit as if curious as to where one of her friends was going. Red only let out a sharp whistle and the dog came back immediately to her feet. She had the dogs trained to a tee. Her brow was lowered and she pulled away from him, heading back inside the kennels without a word. Joel sighed, knowing he was heading into a fight and that tightness in his chest growing, and followed after while closing the large doors behind him. “You wanna tell me what that was about?” he asked roughly and watched as she let Maggie back into her pen, picking up the puppies that were trying to escape and gently pushing them back in.

“You first,” she grunted and headed to the back area where the supplies were kept, “That was new.” The statement was accusatory, questioning, almost mocking. The dogs hopped and whined as she passed, vying for her or Joel’s attention, and potentially sensing the growing tension in the room. Joel grit his teeth and shook his head, “I didn’t like how he was looking at you-” “So you shoved your tongue down my throat?” she scoffed and turned around to face him, lips twisted down in a frown. “You haven’t complained before,” he dryly commented as if to brush it off, closing in on her until they stood close together. She quirked a brow and let out an unamused laugh, “Miller, people are intimidated by you enough without you throwing your dick around. He’s just doing a job for me.” He wanted to believe her, but the tiny signs were still there that she wasn’t being completely truthful. And it burned deep into him because she hardly ever lied to him before. She was direct in what she would and wouldn’t talk about, would dodge around what she couldn’t answer truthfully. But lying wasn’t done often and it didn’t quell the tightening in his chest. He continued to walk forward, her own position unyielding and refusing to step back, until he was chest to chest with her, “Just a job, huh? One you haven’t mentioned before and won’t talk about? You hidin’ something, Starshine?” Her smile had an edge, teeth bared, and she raised her head chin to face him head on, “What do you want me to say? That I’m sucking his dick behind the back of the building in my spare time? That I let him fuck me when you aren’t looking? What, Tex?” Joel’s hand came up and gripped her chin tightly, the other finding its spot on her hip and squeezing the flesh bruisingly. It was so easy to slip back into being rough with each other, for their touches to turn hard and painful, but they never shied away from it. Her eyes had darkened, lust and fury in them, and he could feel it echoed back, “I know you’re not. But it doesn’t mean he’s not imagining it. He needed to know to keep his eyes to himself. Understand?” “Yes, sir,” she hissed out sarcastically. Memories of a darkened store out there in the wild, of those very words, hit him from months before and then his mouth was on hers again. She didn’t fight him, only kissed him back hard enough their teeth clacked and her tongue was instantly in his mouth. In a way, this was a different form of fight. Both of them trying to get the upper hand, dominating one another. He backed her up until she met the edge of the work table, items clattering all over the tabletop as her ass hit the wood. Breaking from her mouth, he spun her around and bent her over roughly, his hand spread out over the base of her spine and taking in the curve her body splayed out before him. Fingers moved her hair out of the way so he could press open mouth kisses along the back of her neck, pulling her shirt collar down to continue their exploration. His hips were firmly against her ass and she shifted, pressed back into him and his clothed erection. Joel groaned into her skin and bit off a curse, hands quickly moving around to find the buttons of her jeans.

It was all a rush, her jeans yanked down her thighs while he went to unbuckle his own. Sometimes he missed the dangerous hectic pace of being out beyond Jackson’s walls. The quick moments they’d find together in the dark, harsh and fast and so aware of the peril that could find them. It had been exciting and even if he liked the safety of Jackson, a part of him would always crave that danger. It was partially what drew him to her.

Her nails gripped the table and he grunted, freeing his cock from the confines of his pants and hand finding the soft folds between her legs. Fuck, she was already wet and he enjoyed the moans in her chest as his fingers slid around her clit, covering her in her own arousal. He was already so hard, rubbing his dick along her core and letting her coat him.

“Fuck,” she whispered into the tabletop, forehead pressing into it.

“Come on, darlin’, haven’t even gotten to that part yet,” he chuckled. His hands dug into the bare skin of her hips, feeling the small marks and scars there, savoring the texture. Sometimes in the mornings he’d skim his fingers over the bruises he would leave there, evidence of him left behind on her skin. He slid into her so easily, like she was welcoming him home. Warm and tight and Joel almost groaned at the feeling. She pushed her hips into him until he was fully seated in her, demanding, and he shook his head at her need to still be in control even when he had her bent over a table at his mercy. She felt like heaven every single time. Soft and hot on the inside, all teeth and armor on the outside. Fuck, if she wasn’t gorgeous. A well crafted blade, sharp but enticing. Something everyone wanted and couldn’t have for fear they’d be cut. But everyday he slid his finger along her edge and welcomed the blood she brought to the surface with a bare touch. He’d let her cut him a thousand times over just to have her. Joel gave her what she wanted- demanded in that silent way of hers. Fingers gripping, he slid in and out of her slowly before driving into her hard and rough. He branded her skin with his scent, his touch. She wouldn’t choose someone else, he knew that, but it was hard to see that clearly when so many things had been taken away. He’d let so many things slip away out of his fingers because he didn’t hold on tight enough. He wouldn’t do that with her. He would shackle himself to her and hold on with all his might because he wouldn’t lose her. All of his fears and desperations drove into her with each thrust and he was lost in the feeling. Bending down over her, he clasped one hand around hers as it gripped the table's edge, able to tell from the hitch in her breathing and the way she was tightening around him that she was close to her breaking point. “Come on, baby, let yourself go,” he hummed into her ear and felt her fall apart in answer, defiance gone. He pumped into her through her orgasm, coaxing her through its end and feeling the pressure build inside himself as she tightened around his cock. Release came soon after and he groaned into the space between her shoulders, their hair mingling together as his body draped over her. They were both panting, boneless and sweaty on top of the table as the world came back into focus. The smell of the hay and stables, the dirt on the floor, the whines of the dogs. The fact this was still a public spot. She cursed softly and with a more pained groan this time, he pulled out of her. It was hard to walk, but he managed to find a clean cloth and water not far away and cleaned her up carefully, listening to her hitch in breath when he slid the fabric along her sensitive center. He was the one to pull up her pants for her after tucking himself away and buckling his own. She stood up and leaned against the table, watching him as he set about silently fixing her jeans and righting her clothes. There was a nervousness in him that he wasn’t sure about. As if exposing that he’d been jealous was exposing a raw nerve. She wasn’t extremely younger than him, but he was aware of all his faults. His hearing, the way he was slowing down, his age. She’d never blinked an eye at any of it but there were other options now in Jackson. And as much as he tried to tell himself that she wasn’t the type to go looking, he still knew there was a 1% chance that she would.

“Feel better?” she asked huskily, hands resting on the edge of the table. “Not really,” Joel sighed, hip cocked out with his fingers in his belt loops, staring down at the dirt floor. They didn’t say anything for a second before she sighed and crossed her arms, “He’s building a craft table for you.” Well that certainly shocked him back into awareness, “What?” She scowled, obviously miffed about having to reveal it to him, and raised a brow, “Surprise.” “What do you mean he’s building a craft table for me?” Joel repeated with a heavy set brow. That feeling in his chest tightened, released as if letting out a deep sigh, before tightening back up. But she only shrugged, “Exactly what I said. That’s the job I asked him to do. He’s trading for one of the puppies when they’re big enough, but he’s collecting any spare tools he can find along with some books on woodworking and guitar building for you. I figured we could try and fix that broken guitar that we had come across a few miles south. Ta-da.” Joel could only stare as the words sank in, face frozen in a hard frown as he struggled to process her words. It was all said so monotone and he could tell she had wanted to wait to tell him about it. She was annoyed. All he could get out was, “You know those puppies technically aren’t yours?” She shrugged again with a roll of her eyes, “Community puppies. I’m trading with the community. Same thing. And please don’t scowl and run him off when he delivers the damn table to the house. I really don’t want to have to try and approach another new person anytime soon and start this whole process over again. Tommy had to help introduce me the first time and I’ve had to listen to Noah talk constantly. It’s honestly awful.” He almost laughed at the uncomfortable look that crossed her face and mentally noted that Tommy had known about this project and never told him. He’d have to have a word with his little brother about next time maybe finding her help that was a lot older and not good looking. Joel chewed on his lip, sighing, feeling the guilt start to take hold. She was watching him expectantly and he shook his head, avoiding her eye contact, “I guess I should say sorry.” “You guess?” “I am sorry,” he grunted, hands on his hips and kicking the dirt underneath his foot, “I might have overreacted.” She raised a brow at that again but said nothing, only looking skyward in silent prayer, “And just for your information, not that it matters, but Noah has a partner he won’t shut up about. He definitely likes to bark up a different kind of tree.” When the information sunk in, she finally did laugh at the look on his face and pushed herself off the table, looping her arm through his. He didn’t reply and only let himself sink deeper in the hole he had made. She seemed okay with letting that be his punishment. The table was delivered a week later and Joel forced a smile on his face and tried not to appear too guilty as Noah left, hearing Red laughing from behind the screen door as he did so.

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#Joel Miller x Feral Reader #Joel Miller x Reader #Joel Miller x f!Reader #joel miller x oc #Joel Miller Smut #Joel Miller fanfic #tlou #the last of us #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfic #feral reader #series: feral #Raicodoll writes

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thoughtsandbones · 11 months

Text

Between your hands, I open

I saw @tacticalanklebiter3000 do a repost about softdom and my mind went straight to our beloved masked menace, but with a twist..

Content: 18+, P in the V (use a rubber folks), Soft!dom, F!Dom, sex, established situationship/relationship on the DL... profanity.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x South Asian F!Reader ;)

(Although some OC mentioned from my on-going series)

The Anchor was thriving tonight. Laughter and the clinks of glasses hung within the air. The outside beer garden was prospering, buzzes of conversations, then a roaring laughter overruled the conversations.

Soap had just won another drinking game against you, he threw his head back and pointed towards you. You roll your eyes at him and grasp your pint in your hand and drain it of its contents. The sticky heat of the evening started getting to you, from the reflection of your phone screen you could see droplets of sweat on your forehead.

Pressing your empty, yet still cold, glass to your forehead, you feel a little relief from the heat.

Looking up you see Soap badgering Gaz and Price, Peyton laughs at them, not wanting to have a go at a drinking game with him when he asks her. To next to Soap was Ghost, his blue eyes glued to you. Nodding at him, he nods back averting his gaze down to his bourbon.

How could he wear a mask and a hoodie in this heat you think

Staring at your empty glass, and then at your watch you think it's time to go home.

Ghost gazed upon you, parts of your hair stuck to the glistening skin of your chest. It was the first time he'd seen you wear a dress, especially how the pink colour made your tanned skin glow, the mix of sweat, heat and the perfume you wore was his own personal elixir of... he lifted his mask slightly and took a soup of the icy bourbon.

He snaps out of that trail of thought. He couldn't go back to that memory now. Here of all places. He glances back over to you and your eyes flick to meet his. Like magnets. Suddenly, your face changed as you looked at him, holding his gaze; eyes glazed with a sudden lust, biting of the lower lip. His eyes drifted back to your eyes, you flickered your lashes, coated with mascara, the once sharp eyeliner now blurred on your eyelid. The sudden wink you gave him was all he needed to know what awaited him.

"Gonna head home now" You say aloud, placing the glass back down on the table. You get up and leave and say your final goodbyes to everyone as you slip your jacket over your arm.

Grabbing a taxi home, you take out your phone, like it was second nature, you text Mine in 30 mins? you hit send, and seconds later your phone vibrated, a flutter in your chest as you read.

Course :)

Letting yourself in your flat, you rush to the shower, turning it on, the both the heat of the sun and the heat from your loins were scorching your skin. You strip yourself of your dress, underwear and enter the tub, the cold water cooling your brown skin. A sense of slight relief overcomes you.

After finishing the shower, you moisturise, fresh cotton lacy pale lilac underwear and a lilac lacy bra, grabbing your large t shirt and shorts.

There was a heavy knock on the door, you slip the shorts on and make way, opening it, revealing the lieutenant, his blue eyes, dart of your face. You smile and tilt your head

"Hey" slips out

"Hey again" Ghost replies, looking down at you, he was disappointed that the dress you wore was gone. You make way for him to enter.

"It's boilin' out there" He says walking in, taking off his hoodie, revealing his t-shirt, in black of course, patches soaked in sweat.

You walk over to him, lightly placing your hand in his shoulder, trailing your fingers to the skin of his upper arm, sweat coated between the blonde strands of hair.

"Want a cold shower?" You ask, lacing your fingers through his.

Ghost turns around and takes his mask off, revealing a sweaty red, yet clean shaven face, wreathed with various scars, you took little notice to those. His eyes coaxed yours.

"Cold bath?" He asks, widening his blue eyes coming closer to you, grabbing a strand of hair that was damp between his fingers "See you already had one withou' me" He smirks

You smile back "It was too hot out there" You reply, reaching for his hand that held the strand, and guiding him to the bathroom, he walks with no restraint.

Reaching over bath you seal it, and bring down the shower head. Turning the taps on so the cold water fills the tub. Simon strips down before you, and smiles as you check the water and place some bath soap in the tub, he marvelled at the way you instinctively grabbed the lotions of potions that will soothe him.

He then sits in the white porcelain tub, knees bent, his hands swaying in the water as the bubbles accumulate around him, he looks at you as you reach for your shampoo, and sinks his head back into your hands as your lather the shampoo in his hair with the shower head, closing his eyes so his senses can focus on the touch of your fingertips running between his hair, gently, massaging the flesh that forms a barrier to his own skull.

"Let me take care of you" You whisper in his ear, giving him a kiss on his cheek.

Simon hums as your fingers trail down his body, wiping away the built-up dirt and sweat, the cold water surrounding him bringing him comfort on this hot English day with a bamboo loofah.

He never knew someone could treat him with such care and tenderness. Your hands dance around his body, he follows your commands; just like you followed his.

When you ask him to get up, so you can dry him with a big towel you got just for him, he does so, there is no embarrassment or guilt, just comfort and trust for the first time in this exposed position.

You wrap the towel around his waist, he sits on the edge of the bath tub, he pulls you close and nips your neck, you smile as you look down at him, holding him close, arms draped over his broad muscular shoulders.

"Can you do the skin thing on my face" He mumbles, burying his head in your chest. You pull away slightly and lift his chin with your finger, and smile.

"What do you want me to do?" You ask, grinning slightly.

"I want you to put that fancy stuff on my face" He says, cheeks turning red. His arms wrapped around your waist, hands resting on your bum.

Smiling back, you nod and then start the same skincare routine you do on him, cleanse, tone and apply a sheet mask, a new look that makes you giggle.

"Think you should switch to this mask when in the field" You say, he scoffs slightly, and gives a light smack on your arse, the sensation moistening your clothed pudendum.

Once the routine was done, Simon drags you back to the bed, he tries to get you to go on the bed, but you spin round under his arms, and try and push him down. He smirks at the attempt and sits down, leaning back down on the bed, legs planted on the floor, all done willingly for you. He watches as your top and shorts are taken off and climb on top of him. He moans and takes in the sight of you, his hands grazing the edges of your lingerie, the lilac bra enhancing the golden brown skin. His rough hands linger across the flesh of your bum and down your thigh back, dragging his nails deeper into your tissue back up to the waistband of your underwear.

"Tell me what you want Simon" You say kissing his chest, making your way up to his lips, locking eyes.

Your hair is scattered around his face, you were millimetres apart. He wasn't sure what you meant, you were what he wants, he has you right now on top of him. You look deep into his ocean blue eyes, and then down his face, scattered are scars of all kinds, you kiss each one.

"You" He rasps, hoping that'll satisfy.

You move away, sitting up, but planting yourself on his crotch, where nothing but a towel covered him.

"Tell me specifically what you want me to do Simon" You say looking at him, smiling, running your fingers up and down his chest.

"Kiss me" He whispers, closing his eyes, longing for your lips on his mouth again.

You oblige, but you reach down where the towel was held together, untying it, moving down, and start kissing his inner thighs.

Simon groaned, his hands finding your head, now it was his chance to run his fingers through your hair, his nails grazing the scalp. His hardened cock twitches at your touch.

Kissing the flesh covering his pelvic bone, you start nibbling at the skin, leaving small little red marks in your path as you go across his body. Your hands trail the muscles of his torso, and his arms. He shudders beneath you as you run your tongue down the indents of his muscles and scars.

Making your way back to his mouth, you take off your underwear, now too wet, and sit on top of his heavy cock, the flesh and bone grinding against each other. Simon groans in pleasure.

You kiss the skin, the scars, the parts of him he hides. This was your way of telling him he shouldn't be ashamed.

"You're teasin' me" He groans, as he tried to move his hand to his cock to put it in you, but you grab his hand and pull it back near his head. You move up to his face, and grin whilst holding his arm down, you gaze at the tattoos adorned on his lower arm, skulls, bullets, bombs; chaotic remnants of war.

"Good" You say smugly and start kissing his cheeks, and down his neck, using your teeth gently as you bite away at him. Grinding harder against his hard member, lathered in your juices.

Simon groans louder, with his other free hand he gives you another light smack on the arse, you laugh into his chest and then move his nipples, biting down harder this time. In your procession of masticated flesh, the tiny capillaries burst in a deep red colour down Simon's waist and across his abs.

"Sit up for me" You say and Simon does so, you motion to the headboard of the bed. You climb on top, and position yourself, sliding onto his huge cock.

"Ahhhhhh fuck" Simon moans as you go down and up slowly. He watches you, his hands clasping the small of your back. He feels you clench his member, moving up and down slowly. He noticed you were still wearing that pretty lilac bra.

Bet it would look better on the floor he thinks to himself, kissing the skin of your chest. He watches as you moan softly, bouncing gently on him.

"Bite me harder" You say, moving closer to him, your breasts practically touching his cheeks. He removed the bra, freeing the breasts, he grasps them gently in his hands as he suckles on skin near the nipples. You moan deeply. He moves to bite your nipples, and leaves red marks around the flesh of your breasts.

Whilst on top, you change the motion of your hips, from up and down, to round in circles, clockwise and anti-clockwise, Simon moans against your chest and pulls you in tighter. He tries to move up and down into you but you tell him to stop, you're in charge this time.

He slowly let's himself go, your hands cradle his head, he looks up at you and then down to the breasts that begin to bounce as you slightly increase in speed, you kiss his forehead. Fingers running through his damp blonde hair, slicking it back.

Simon bites down on your neck, digging his finger nails into your flesh as your speed up.

"Feel good?" You moan softly

"Course love" Simon says against your skin, and looks up at you. You smile down at him. He turns his head back between your breasts.

He felt the pleasure build up within him, he felt like he was going to burst at the rate your were going. But suddenly, as though you sensed it, you stop. He looks up astonished.

You laugh and smile, kissing his lips, the salty sweat dancing on your tastebuds.

"Lay down for me Simon" You say, and he does so, you still on top, he shimmies down the bed. Sweat clings to his skin. You move your hips, back and forth, engaging your core as you slowly move. Simon rests his hands on your hips, the pleasure building again, he felt his body tremble with lust and desire, he watched as your abs flexed and breasts bounce.

"God you're so handsome" You say, tracing your hands over his body and to hip face, especially his Adonis belts, adorned with two long scars and a gun shot.

Simon scoffs and rolls his eyes, you take note, and slow down to stop, he watches as you lean over and kiss his lips again.

"You. Are. So. Handsome." You again, kissing him between each word. His blue eyes look back into yours, he grips on your hips tighten as he tried to make you start moving again, his hips thrusting into you.

"You're so handsome and cool" You say, smiling. Leaning back you start moving.

"Drivin' me insane here" He says massaging your breasts, tugging at your nipples. You moan aloud. He loves how you take your time, commanding both his and yours pleasure, your words and touch making him feel loved.

Suddenly, he cums, inside you, without warning, he feels an electric ripple go through him as his cock pulsates inside you.

"Finally came? You say kissing his cheeks and lips.

"Yeah" He says gasping, his body vibrating with satisfaction, you stroke his cheek and kiss him. Simon holds you in tight and looks up to you, words struggle to come out as he opens and closes his mouth.

"Simon, you are so amazing and desirable" You say beaming at him. With all his final strength he rolls you over and kisses you deeply as he thrusts his buzzing member deeper within your portal. Slowly coming out of you, he watches as you lay there stroking his arms.

"Let me clean you up love" He says, bring you close to him, you get up with him, legs feeling like jelly, stumbling slightly, Simon steadies you.

"You took out it me and you" He mumbles, kissing your neck, taking you to the bathroom, you laugh lightly. Although his legs, no, his body was tingling, and he wanted nothing more to lay back down, it was his turn to care for you. You finally opened him up.

Simon carried you back to the bed, fresh underwear, no bra under spare t-shirt of his, he laid beside you, wearing his boxers, the bare skin of his chest glowing from the sweat, he grabbed his phone and put some music on. You sit up, look down on him, he brings his hands to your face, grasping at the nape of your neck, pulling you in close.

He kisses you and strokes your lower back as you rest on top. After some time, you had fallen asleep across his chest. Simon ran his fingers through your hair. He felt his eyelids become heavy. Closing his eyes he allowed himself to drift off with you in this moment.

He didn't care if the world ended right now, because the only person he cared for in the entire world was here, resting on his chest. It was with you he finally bloomed.

#simon ghost riley #modern warfare fanfiction #fan fic ideas #simon ghost riley x reader #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #fluff #softdom #simon ghost riley x reader smut #modern warfare smut #ghost smut

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bratshaws · 1 year

Text

through the hourglass 87. brb x oc

a/n: i hate this man so much. Hope you guys like tonight's chapter <3

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: fluff with a smidge of suggestive

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

50/51/52/53/54/55/56/57/58/59/60/61/62/63/64/65/66/67/68/69/70/71/72/73/74/75/76/77/78/79/80/81/82/83/84/85/86

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @kulicny @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @dhwanishah09 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl @mygyn @chavivaelisheva

Beatrice occupied herself around the house after talking to Rooster, her smile never faltering and her body feeling light as a feather, almost feeling if the wind touched it she’d fly away. She places the phone in her pocket, turning around to see Nikki chewing one of the several rubber toys that surrounded her, there were no signs of her teeth showing up yet but Bea thought that Nikki actually liked the squeaky sound that happened because of her gums rubbing on the surface.

She smiles down at their daughter, seeing those light eyes move towards her and her cute grin appear, “Hi sweet girl! Are you enjoying yourself?” Nicole gurgles happily, kicking her onesie covered feet as her mother hovers above her, slowly falling to her knees next to Nicole, “You are so cute, you are so cute! What do you think about joining me for a quick supermarket run?”

Nicole vocalizes happily, chubby cheeks appearing fuller as her smile gets broader, “Then it’s settled, let’s go out for a bit.” Beatrice grabs Nicole from the baby mat, kissing her cheek as she pulls herself to her full height, walking towards the key magnet close to the wall, about to leave the house when her phone buzzes.

She sighed, the amount of times her phone stopped her from doing something should be investigated because it wasn’t normal. When she pulled out she was a bit surprised to see it was Michael calling, “Huh.” she answers it, “Hello?”

“Good morning my darling sister,” oh boy “What are you doing today?”

“I was about to go grocery shopping.” she explains, bouncing Nicole on her arm, “With Nikki…why?”

“Oh just curious…do you need some company?”

“...no?”

“I can help you carry the heavy stuff, come on.”

Beatrice blinked, then licked her lips while closing her eyes, “...Mikey, what was the reason for you to call me?” he doesn’t answer, “Because this is out of nowhere.”

“Ah,well, you know…just missed you,sis.” another pause “Okay, listen I’m–” she hears his footsteps walking away, “Gui is in my house still and I need, I need an excuse to get out of here. I’m going to go insane,Bea.”

“Ah…so that’s why.”

“Bea! Please, help me out.”

She sighed, chewing the inside of her cheek as she considered his request, then looked down at Nicole who’s watching her intently, “...fine.” she ignored his quiet ‘yes!’ “But I won’t be out for long. It’s just to get the essentials,Mike.”

“Sis I just need five minutes away from the colonel. That’s all”

Beatrice rolled her eyes but nodded while replying, “Okay, can you get here in ten minutes?”

“Hell,I’ll be there in five. Thank you so much sis,I love you!”

And he hangs up, leaving Beatrice just blinking and staring at the opposite wall completely unimpressed, “Your uncles.” she begins as she pockets her phone, turning to face Nikki,” Are a confusing bunch,Nikki. Especially your uncle Michael.”

If she knew her brother she knew he’d show up with his car so she just placed her keys aside and waited by the living room’s window, Nicole’s tiny hands touching the glass as she kept her vocalization, widening her eyes when her breath fogged the glass, “Yeah,Nikki, you can fog the glass,look!” Beatrice drew a smiley face with the tip of her finger, earning an excited sound from her daughter.

She however looked up when she saw her brother’s car park in front, rolling her eyes when he waved exaggeratedly out of his window, even almost climbing out of it to pop his head out and grin at her, “Well, let’s go Nikki.” she chuckles, telling the dogs goodbye as she grabs her bag and the house keys, “Your uncle already has a seat for you.”

It’s something her siblings did for every niece or nephew that was just born: have one handy in case they needed to take them somewhere. It was very useful and she also knew they were doing it even more now that Nicole was born. “Oh my God.” Michael grins, making his way over to the two and immediately picking Nicole from Beatrice’s arms, “There’s my little booger! Hi little booger!”

Beatrice just laughed while locking the door, knowing her brother was just going to bounce Nicole around a bit and hold her as ‘a machine gun’ just so he could shake her a bit and make her baby vocalizing stutter - he did that to everyone, including Bea and Leo - “Is Gui still in your house?”

“Yep.” Michael says, playfully moving his body back and forth as a giant dummy just so Nicole laughed, “I told him I had to help you now and he tried to come with me but I was out of the house already.”

“I thought he’d go back to New York after the weekend.”

“Nah,mom asked him to stay a bit more because she missed him.”

“But not Sabrina?”

“Sabrina always calls mom and videochat.” Michael says, cooing his niece, “And Gui is the tallest one of us, she wanted him to help with some stuff back at the house since dad’s back is acting up again.”

“Ah,of course.”

“But,” he turns to her, “What do you wanna do? What’s the itinerary?”

“Going to the supermarket, get some stuff and then come back home.”

Michael purses his lips with a nod, “Sounds good, jump in sis.I’ll buckle this little girl.” he tickles Nicole’s tummy to make her giggle and hold onto his watch while her mother enters the car just as Michael told her to. She does turn her body to check if Michael does it right, which he does, but she couldn’t help but stare at him like a hawk ready to pounce if he did something wrong.

She’s still looking at Nicole when Michael enters, her daughter gurgling happily and reaching towards her with her tiny hand “Hey,” he begins once he gets in the car, making her attention turn to him instead, “Can she eat solids yet?”

Beatrice blinks back towards Nicole, smiling at her daughter who now was focused on the Metallica sticker on the passenger door’s window, “We are going to start. That’s why I want to go to the supermarket, buy some stuff to make it.”

“Make it?” Michael repeats, putting on his sunglasses, “Why don’t you buy it?”

“You talk as if my mother isn’t the same as yours.”

“Ah.”

“You know mom is very against those baby foods, you know she always said it had poison and yadda yadda.” she waves her hand, “Plus, it’s going to be fun. Roos wants to make some too. He said his mom used to make a carrot purée or something and he wanted to try it with Nicole.”

Michael smirks as he turns the car, driving away from his sister’s house and onto the street, “Well, ain’t you guys just specially purdy.” he says with the heaviest - and the most awful – country accent she had ever heard but it did make her laugh a bit, “Nah, for real, it’s cute. You two are doing stuff together, for Nicole and having fun with it.”

Beatrice’s smile falters a bit at her brother’s tone, there’s a hint of melancholy in there…and hearing it from someone like Michael was really shocking. He was rarely upset or mad and when he was he hid it very well…something must’ve happened, something more than Guillermo’s stay at his house.

She chose to not ask him yet, chatting with him about casual topics just to take his mind out of things and then figuring out how to break onto the subject without making him shut down even more than he normally would.

But she could see something was off.

His eyes were dull and his smile didn’t reach them, even the way he was sitting was making her worried, he looked…like a shell of himself almost.

“And here we are.”

Beatrice barely noticed they arrived, looking at the large supermarket with her brows raised, “We got here fast.”

“Eh,I’m a good driver.”

“Is that supposed to mean I’m not?” her brother just unbuckled himself and smiled, tapping her cheek with his hand, leaving her glaring at his empty seat, “Jerk.” Beatrice opened the door herself and waited until Michael opened the passenger door for her to grab Nicole, her daughter just gurgled happily, vocalizing to her mother as she was picked up.

“Mikey,” her brother turns to her, “Can you get me a cart? The ones with the baby carrier on top, please.” he nodded after locking the car, walking to where the carts were as Beatrice followed. Yeah, he was acting strangely, even his shoulders appeared to be slumped as he walked.

He turns around after pushing his sunglasses to his forehead, grinning at his sister and niece, “There you go.” he says, “Put her down and we can go.”

Beatrice kept flicking her gaze to Michael as they walked through every aisle, he just stood by the cart, absently,pursing his lips as he turned a random product in his hand and put it back then turned to Nicole and made funny faces…only to repeat the pattern. Beatrice gently placed the bag of chips down, clearing her throat quietly, “So um…anything new?”

“Where?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know, in your life? Something that’s going on? How’s work at the gym?”

His face relaxes in recognition, letting out an ‘ohh’ as he supports himself on the back of the cart just above Nicole’s babbling self, “Oh well, everything is good. I am going to work at the gym Bradley and his buddies go to.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s my friend’s too, he owns both of those and he noticed a lot of people wanted boxing classes…more than the ones in the gym I’m at, so I’ll start there next week.”

“Oh,Mikey, that's amazing!” she’s genuinely happy for him, smiling brightly at her brother’s change…only to see that his smile was minimal, even if he was thankful for her support, “...you don’t look that happy.”

“Nah,I am.”

“Mikey.”

He sighs heavily, dropping his head forward as he thinks about how to reply, “...I just have a lot on my mind.”

“You can tell me.”

He chuckles softly, slowly lifting his head, “You are a sweet kid,Bea.” he didn’t say it in an offending way and Bea didn’t felt like correcting him, “I just…been feeling kinda alone lately.” he mutters, shrugging his broad shoulders, “I’m getting old,” he didn’t see his sister’s eyeroll and mutter of ‘you are in your forties’ “And…I don’t know,I guess I’m kinda trying to find myself again.”

Beatrice just looked back at him after a while, that was a good reason for his sudden demeanor. Her brother was a nice guy, he was sweet and considerate…and very funny, he deserved someone good, he deserved to have a good life with someone else, “...well,are you looking for someone?” she questions, “Going out? Maybe someone in the gym?”

“Listen the guys there are handsome as fuck but I’m not into dudes.” he laughs, his eyes shining for a brief second because at least she got that out of him, “Nah…I don’t know,I don’t really…I met some ladies but nothing serious.”

“Ah.”

“Guess I’m kinda jealous of everyone now.” he sounds even sadder when he says it, “I mean, hell, so much has happened ever since I moved back home, it’s crazy.”

Beatrice offers her brother a little smile, walking around the cart to hug his middle the best she could, “You’ll find someone amazing,Mikey.” he hums, not believing her and that only made Beatrice flick her finger on the back of his head, earning a quiet ‘ow!’ from him, “Can you keep an eye on Nikki really quick,though? I need to get some napkins on the aisle over.”

“Sure, meanwhile I’m going to show Nikki all the nice candies and how to get them.” he says,smirking down at his niece who just gurgled at him, “Butterfingers are the best and your uncle Leo will deny it, but he’s stupid.”

“Mikey.”

“It’s true.”

But she was glad he was joking more, “Be right back, don’t,” she points at him, “Move a muscle.” he just waved at her, telling her to move ahead and they wouldn’t leave and that she shouldn’t worry. Beatrice smiles while turning on her heel, walking towards the aisle and stopping when she sees a known redhead at the end.

“Hannah?” she calls and the other woman looks up from where she’s currently crouched, smiling at Beatrice.

“Hey! What a surprise!”

“Sure is!” Bea grins back, grabbing the napkins she wanted and holding in her arms, “I didn’t know you shopped here?”

“Oh,I didn’t but my son likes the um, pineapple cake they have here.” Hannah says, standing up straight and gesturing to her own cart, “And I found some nice prices and decided that there was time for a short supply run, you know?”

“Oh, yes sure.” Bea says, “Oh,um,so about the reunion thing…are you going?”

“Are you?”

“....maybe.” she confesses, turning the package in her hands for a little bit, “As long I can take Brad with me. We might leave our baby at my parents…or at his uncle, we don’t know yet,’ Mav would have a field day with that she could admit it…plus Penny would be there and Shells to, maybe even Amelia but she’s out for college now so she couldn’t be too sure.

“Fair, there’ll be a lot of drunk adults there.” Hannah says, tapping the railing on her cart, “I don’t know if I’m going.” she mumbles “I…I don’t know,I don’t really wanna see some people again and they will show up so I hope you know that too.”

Ever since they talked Hannah has been a very good friend, she often complained about her own ‘friends’ and let Bea know if there was anything off with them. So saying that actually meant ‘be one hundred percent certain you wanna go there.’

“That’s good to know.” Bea says softly, ‘I’ll have to think about it. I can just…show up,right?”

“Yep, it’ll be at the um…you know the Lagoon House,right?” a large beach house that only the rich and famous rented whenever they didn’t want to vomit in their own pools and break their own furniture??? Yes she knew “It’s going to be there, hell knows how they managed to get enough money to rent it.”

Beatrice hadn’t noticed that she and Hannah were walking back to her own cart, her brother and daughter still happily talking to each other, “I don’t know either.” Beatrice said, then looked back to where Michael was, “Oh wow I didn’t even see I was coming back.”

Michael stood a bit straighter against the cart, their eyes moving to Beatrice to Hannah, who just stood there with her own gaze wide and surprised, “...your friend,Bea?”

“Ah um, yeah, this is Hannah.” she gestured to the redhead, “I told you about her. How we’ve been talking a lot too.” she explains but her brother is just looking at Hannah still and she had never seen Michael get this silent. When she turned to Hannah, she was pretty much the same way with her cheeks…red?

Oh.

Beatrice looks between the two for a few more seconds, “...um so,” she clears her throat, “We need more things to buy Mikey.” she walks towards her brother and gently touches his arm, “See you Hannah!”

“O-Oh,see you!”

She couldn’t wait to tell Rooster.

By the time Rooster gets back home and he greets the dogs, he’s surprised to see Beatrice on the couch, long Iron Maiden shirt to her thighs, and her hair up in a messy bun. She turns her head when she hears the door opening with a brilliant smile taking over her face. “Hi.” she says, quickly turning around to sit on her knees, holding herself upright by her elbows.

“Hi.” he smirks, toeing off his boots and letting his eyes drop to her barely clothed self, “Where’s Nikki?”

“Asleep, I had her try some solid food today.”

“Did you?”

“Hmhm.” she follows his body as he gets closer, something about the obvious swagger in his walk only made her want for him to get higher, “And she liked it. She had some potatoes at first,I think it’s a good way to start,” he hums, she isn’t sure if he’s listening to her or not. Beatrice laughs softly as he’s right by the back of the couch, his large hands gliding down her shoulders towards her waist, “Are you even listening?”

“Nikki likes potatoes.” he says, brushing the pads of his fingers against her bare thighs, “Which is great because so do we…damn you looking sexy today.”

“Roos,it’s just my night shirt.”

“I know.” and he leaves it at that, wrapping a loose thread from the bottom of her shirt around his finger so he could tug it off “And yet, look at you.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes but did stand up taller as she straightened her back a bit more, wrapping her arms around his neck to kiss him. She giggled in surprise when his tongue immediately touched her lips, “You are relentless.” she whispers against his mouth, cupping his face with her hands, “But I love you for it.”

“Good.” he smirks, pecking her lips again, “Hey, so,funny story.” she tilted her head at him, “The guys, you remember the trio we met during that night we went out for tacos.” It takes a while but she smiles, nodding at him, “They wanted to give you and Nikki gifts.”

“Really? Aw they don’t have to. That’s so sweet.” she is still leaning on the back of the couch as Rooster removes his watch and runs his hand through his hair, chuckling almost in disbelief, “Your fanboys are very sweet.”

He just offered her an amused look, flicking his gaze down her body yet again, “Don’t start.” he says, placing the watch to the side, “Anyway, how did your day go?”

“Pretty good,Michael showed up and he helped me….and…we saw Hannah.” her husband no longer looked like he wanted to murder the redhead whenever her name was mentioned which she was more than happy with, “And…there was something.”

“Something?”

“I think I saw a spark.”

“Between your brother and Hannah?” she nods and he scoffs, “Shut up, no way.” but the cute smile on her face and the way she looked so pleased was enough of an answer for him. Rooster arches his brows with a subtle shake of his head, “Damn,gorgeous. What a wild day,huh?”

“It was…” she bites her lower lip, which makes her husband’s eyes drop to her mouth immediately, “And I missed you a lot.”

“Did you?” she nods, “Really?” she nods again, and he squints his eyes, “Really?”

“Yes,Rooster, really.” she says with her hands reaching for him. He wastes no time in letting her wrap her arms around his neck and then cupping his hands on her ass cheeks, picking her up from the couch so her legs wrapped around his waist, “I always miss you.”

He smirks, kissing that cute pout of hers and then touching their foreheads together, “I always miss you too…but hey,we gotta celebrate that Nikki tried baby food for the first time.” he says, walking the two of them to the staircase, slowly climbing it up so Beatrice wouldn’t fall.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader #tgm oc #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction

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swordsmans · 1 year

Photo

wip wednesday! the bitch who said they would be finished with this (zolu) thing by next week (today) was a liar. but! good news, it’s gonna be two or three chapters long because it’s getting that out of hand. i probably won’t post this until the whole thing is finished, then i’ll schedule the chapters out a week at a time. i’m still only at ~15k because i trashed the original 7k and restarted about a week+ ago, but it’s definitely much better than it was.

text under the cut! this is still a draft, so apologies if it’s rough--but it keeps making me laugh every time i edit it, so i thought it might be fun to post.

Nami waves the parchment through the air, and Zoro can see that it’s a stack of drawings—map drafts, probably. “Don't ask me! It's just faster this way,” she says, frustrated. “You're the only one who ever knows exactly where he is.”

Zoro rolls his eye. “Well, I haven't seen him yet, so—oh, no, wait,” he says, pausing just for a moment, and Enma almost bites him. Zoro adjusts his grip, frowning because that's not how this works, and changes to a closing stance. Discipline. If Enma will not cooperate, Zoro will not give it what it wants. As he moves, he tilts his head to the side a little and grunts, “Here he comes,” to Nami, who blinks at him.

“See?” She replies, exasperated, “It's ridiculous.”

Zoro almost shrugs. “It's just observation haki,” he says, and Nami just gives him a look he can't even begin to interpret.

She huffs, “It's really not,” and just sort of stares at him for a second before whipping her head to the side as the frantic slap! slap! slap! of familiar sandals comes within hearing range down the hall. “Wow, that was—”

“Straw Hat!” Law’s voice erupts from out of sight, followed by a manic shishishi!

Nami turns her gaze to the ceiling, and Zoro can’t help the snicker that escapes his own mouth as a second enraged yell echoes after them both—Kid, screaming, “Get back here! I’m going to fucking kill you!”

Nami rolls her eyes, and then turns to where Luffy has presumably turned the corner (still out of Zoro’s line of sight), and Zoro sees her eyes bulge. “Luffy, what are you—” As Luffy’s laughter gets louder and louder, more hysterical, and the screams behind him change in pitch from livid to unhinged.

Seconds later, a pale (and yellow? blue?) blur blasts past the doorway, narrowly missing Nami and moving so fast that her hair physically whips with the force, and Zoro hears his Captain shout, “Sorry, Nami!” between giggles.

Nami opens her mouth to say something, but he’s already gone—and then Kid and Law both appear, shoving each other out of the way, red-faced, wheezing, furious—and without pants. Kid has his devil fruit engaged and Law is yelling, Grab him, what are you even good for? At the same time Kid shouts, “Aren’t your powers fucking teleportation?” and then they’re off again, screaming at each other (“He’s fucking rubber, magnets don’t work!” He’s moving too fast to stay in my range!) and screaming at Luffy, whose howling laughter is already starting to fade in the distance.

Nami blinks at Zoro, expression completely bewildered, and Zoro blinks back—and almost doubles over with his own guffaws because only Luffy could steal clothes from two pirates powerful enough to take down an Emperor and then streak half-naked across a fucking castle, flapping their pants in the wind behind him like bait. Nami recovers as Zoro dissolves and she throws her hands in the air with a kind of incoherent noise of frustration, but Zoro can see that she is trying desperately not to burst out laughing herself.

He grins at her and exhales, “We’ll figure it out on the ship,” and she snorts, rolling her eyes a little.

“Yeah,” she replies, smiling fondly. “We’ll have to.” Then she waves a little and turns to go. “Don’t be late.”

#opfanfic #opfanfiction #what even is the tag anymore #i cant remember #zolu #gyro.odt

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moonbeam-dragon · 1 year

Text

Mourning Dove

Moonrise! So remember how Quackerjack sort of offs himself in the comics? Well I had an idea. AU where the rest of the Fearsome Four learn of it and how they react. This won't be entirely accurate but I haven't read all the comics. So here's my interpretation. Tw: Angst, swearing, mention of su!cide, giving Darkwing Duck a hard time, Megavolt crying, Bushroot crying, blood bending, Liquidator is angry af.

Megavolt sat alone in his cell. To prevent him from making any escape, they'd made a special cell for him. He was the only one to stay in St. Canard now. After the fight involving Taurus Bulba, they'd all been locked away. Quackerjack had been his cellmate for a while before he broke out. He'd promised to come back and release Megavolt, but he didn't have high hopes after months. Bushroot and Liquidator had been moved to remote prisons to keep them from being able to use their powers to escape. Megavolt was kept in the supervillain prison, with a new cell specially made. It was lined with rubber. No electricity. Just an insulated window. Even if he escaped through it, there was nothing but water underneath. But he'd kept his powers. He was laying on his back, letting small sparks fly between his thumb and index fingers. He'd be out soon. Quackerjack wouldn't really leave him here.

It was boring here without the others. All the times they'd been arrested together and thrown here. They'd had separate cells but spent the rest of their time together, in the gardens, and ate together. He hoped Quackerjack would abduct them again soon. He couldn't believe he missed them so much. He'd never used the word "friends" to describe the others. Only Bushroot and Quackerjack said it aloud. But it was true. And Megavolt missed his friends.

There was a dulled tapping sound on the wall of his cell. The bars were wrapped in rubber. There was no metal around the cell, to prevent him from electrifying or magnetizing anything. But he could talk to guards. There was no point eating in the cafeteria without his friends, so he had meals delivered here too. He looked up to see none other than Darkwing Duck standing there. Megavolt sat up, smirking. "Old pal, old enemy. Are you bailing me out or something?" he asked.

Darkwing solemnly shook his head. "Uh, no. I just came to talk to you." He rested a shoulder on the bars, crossing his arms. Megavolt noticed something white, like a piece of paper in his hand. "It's about your old cellmate."

Megavolt's ears perked up at the mention of his friend. He stood and went closer to the bars. "Did he finally get arrested? Is- Is he here?"

Darkwing sighed, shaking his head. "He's not. He's... Something happened during his most recent caper. He launched an attack on the Quackwerks company."

"Of course he did," Megavolt said, shaking his head.

"He turned the corporation into dolls," he explained.

"Yeah, he has an issue with authorities."

Darkwing sighed, biting his lip as he thought of how to explain the next part. "He did. Well he tried to do the same to everyone online the Whiffle Boy game."

Megavolt raised an eyebrow. "That's extreme."

"I stopped it. But... I didn't quite stop him," Darkwing told the rat. He sighed, taking off his hat and running his hand over his head. "I tried to talk him out of anything irrational. But it wasn't enough. He was upset and it didn't go over well."

Megavolt rolled his eyes. "Quackerjack's impossible to talk out of things. Why do you think I robbed a museum dressed as a pumpkin? He can be persuasive when he whines."

The hero groaned, shutting his eyes. "Just listen to me! Quackerjack was found on his ex's doorstep."

"He has an ex?" Megavolt asked.

"He did," the duck answered quickly. "He'd turned himself into a toy on her doorstep. But the ray he used to do it fell and was smashed. We can't really turn him back." Darkwing held the piece of paper he was holding to the bars, letting Megavolt take it. "This was next to him after he'd changed into a doll."

The rat forgot all about Quackerjack having a former lover when he took the paper. Megavolt looked at the note, seeing Quackerjack's handwriting. It wasn't written as a scribble like usual. It was slow, like he had seriously thought about his words. The words were written at the bottom of a fold.

THIS IS THE

BEST I'LL

EVER BE.

-JACKY

Megavolt stared at the note, uncomprehending for a moment. He was hit by shock and denial so fast, he didn't understand the meaning for a minute. Darkwing reached through the bars and slipped back the note. "I'm sorry, Megs."

That confirmed it. Megavolt felt his chest tighten and his eyes got hot. "What?""

I'm sorry. He's gone," Darkwing told him softly. He pulled back from the bars, pocketing the note. "The device he used was broken. The police can't save him."

Megavolt looked up at Darkwing, clenching his teeth. "And where were you when this happened?"

Darkwing looked him in the eye. "I was helping return the victims to normal."

"How?"

"There was a different ray that Quackerjack used on them-"

"Then turn him back with it, too."

"We tried. It worked differently and he-"

"Why didn't you stop him?!" Megavolt screamed, grabbing onto the bars and slamming himself into them. Darkwing had to step a few meters back to keep from being hit by the sparks of rage enveloping the villain. "Why didn't you help him?!"

Darkwing put up his hands. "I tried confronting and talking to him. It didn't work. He got upset with me and-"

"Bullshit!" Megavolt screamed. "Did you even try? Did you even-"

"I did everything I could, okay?!" Darkwing retorted. "That guy needed professional help and I wasn't it. There's only so much I could have done."

Megavolt groaned and teared up. "We all needed professional help. And did we get it? No. We got thrown in prison. At least we used to have each other but because of you, I don't anymore!"

Darkwing pointed a finger at Megavolt. "Don't blame me for splitting you up. Mayor Owlson chose to do that."

"I'm blaming you! I'm blaming you for Quackerjack dying!"

"That wasn't my fault," Darkwing informed him coldly. "I feel guilty enough for how my efforts failed. If I could go fix it-"

"You have his time top. Fix it," Megavolt demanded.Darkwing put his hands up. "I turned it in to S.H.U.S.H. and they dismantled it. They figured it was too dangerous to keep around. Quackerjack nearly unraveled St. Canard history with it."

"You've used it. I was there-"

"I shouldn't have," Darkwing told his enemy. "My best friend nearly lost his life using it."

Megavolt shook his hands on the bars. "And what about MY best friend? He IS dead!"

Darkwing watched and he hyperventilated, backing up. "I can't apologize enough-"

"Then get the fuck away from me!" the rodent shouted, sending a bolt through his fingers that Darkwing barely rolled out of the way of. "Get out! Unless you want me to fry you to a skeleton, just! Get! Out!!"

Darkwing obeyed, running out of the hallway and leaving the premises.

Several minutes passed of Megavolt just being silent and taking it in. His breathing slowed to a stop as the realization hit him again.

Quackerjack was gone.

Megavolt gripped the bars as tight as he could, the rubber absorbing all his energy as he blasted it with lightning. He doubled over, still holding onto them. "NOOO!!" He gasped, bringing his arms back and falling to his knees. He started sobbing, tears flooding his goggles. He tore off the goggles and threw them down so the tears could flow down his face. A burning, tingling sensation hit his face as miniature short-circuits hit the tears. The rat hugged himself, gasping for air and gripping his own arms. "NOO!!"Quackerjack was dead and gone. No more capers with him. No more creative ways to disguise themselves. No more designing machines together.

"Quackerjack..." Megavolt muttered to himself, shaking with a sob. Tears continued to stream down his face.

He remembered when the two had first met. Negaduck had them meet in his warehouse. He'd had his doubts when he first saw the jester. They shook hands as they agreed to cooperate on a task. When he'd static shocked Quackerjack, the other had just laughed it off. That night, as they'd placed the electro-slave device and fought Darkwing Duck, they just clicked. They'd been the two most dangerous criminals ever. They made an electrifying team. They did so much together. Both while working and just hanging out. They'd quickly gone from associates to partners. They were close friends. Best friends. Megavolt didn't care about people. He cared about electronics. He cared about his projects. But Quackerjack? He would've given his life for him. He wished he'd gotten a chance to do just that.

"Why? Quacky... Why?"

Quackerjack was almost too pure for this world. He may have lost his marbles ages ago. But he was happy and sweet. He was friendly and bubbly. The public only saw the vengeful, destructive side of him. And he was all those things. But it was a good thing for Megavolt. They were equally as nuts as the other. That's why they hit it off.

And Quackerjack was gone. Megavolt was left alone in the prison cell. Even if he ever got out, he didn't have his Quacky to return to. He had no idea how to get to Bushroot or Liquidator. His bulbs had likely been confiscated by the police. There were none down here. He was all alone in this world.

He was alone. Megavolt felt his breath return to him in a painful sob. "WHY!?" He hugged himself tightly again, leaning over and sobbing. His sides ached. His face had mild burns from his short-circuiting tears. It wasn't enough. He had so much pain now and no good way to get rid of it. So he just screamed and banged his fists on the rubberized floor. Every volt coming from him was absorbed harmlessly. Harmlessly. He hated being useless and harmless in here.

"AHH!!"

He'd kill the next guard that came to bring him a meal. Just to do something destructive.

Megavolt already missed his playmate.

___

Bushroot supposed this place wasn't awful.He told himself that every time the sun rose. At least he wasn't being starved. He was kept in a cell with a glass door on the outside. Everything else was stone and steel. Solid stone walls and floors. A solid steel door. And a solid glass wall. All of it was thick to ensure he wouldn't escape. He didn't enjoy it. But the guards that brought him water were friendly. He got a large water bottle every morning. It occurred to him that the guards didn't understand how he functioned. He shyly brought up his use for roots to one of the guards. At some point, she had just given him a metal dish to pour it into and left him to his own devices.

He'd forgotten what solitude was like. Even before his mutation, plants were his friends. He wasn't allowed near them anymore. The police station had decided he was too dangerous with flora. His greenhouse was being taken care of by a small organization in the city. His favorite guard, who he'd never gotten the name of, brought him news as often as he could. He just wanted to know that all his friends were well taken care off.

Bushroot was well taken care of, too. He'd been provided with books and other ways to entertain himself. He was never quite bored, except when his mind insisted he should be bored. But that wasn't as often as it could have been. His favorite guard always made sure to keep him from getting too stressed. Many guard let him sit and exist. She tried to keep him living.

He even got news on the criminal activity in St. Canard. Liquidator and Megavolt were still in prison. Megavolt and Quackerjack were the only ones still in the city. But Quackerjack had broken out again, working on some grand experiment. Bushroot was eager to hear how it turned out. He hoped it went well for him. Sure, Bushroot had strayed from villainy recently. He was planning to serve his life sentence and return to his greenhouse to turn over a new leaf.

Until then, he was left out in the desert. It was a solitary prison without many other inmates. He wasn't sure who else was here. He wasn't allowed to know that. He was sure it was just some F.O.W.L. agents. He didn't care. None of his friends were locked away here. It had been decided too risky to allow them to stay in the same prison. That was fair. They had a tendency to collaborate and break out. The first few times, they'd waited for Negaduck to break them out or rescue each other. But they didn't know where each other were, except for Quackerjack and Megavolt.

Bushroot's pondering was interrupted by the creaking of a door. He looked up at the steel door, seeing it opened. "Bushroot?" his favorite guard asked. She stood there, holding it. "You have a guest. May he come in?"

"A guest? This must be my lucky day. Though I don't see any four-leaf clovers growing in here," Bushroot joked with a smile. The guard gave him a solemn, saddened look. That must have been a really bad joke. No plants grew here. The groundskeepers made sure of that. He shook his head. "Forget I said that. Let him in."

The guard gave him another look before stepping out of the room. The door shut behind his visitor. "Hey, Reggie." A short duck in all purple stood there, smiling gently at him.

"Darkwing!" the plant-duck exclaimed, grinning. "Take a seat!" he offered his single bed to his guest, backing over to the window wall. He sat on the floor in the corner to bask in the sunlight. There was lots of it beating down on the sandy land. "What brings you here?"

Darkwing took the seat he was offered and sighed quietly. "What have you heard about St. Canard since you were taken here?" he asked to start.

Bushroot hummed in thought. "A lot of news about my greenhouse. Ammonia Pine's most recent attempt to wipe down the town. Mostly small crimes. And I heard Quackerjack was at it again." He chuckled. "Something having to do with Whiffle Boy again. Is he going to burn down a new store or something?"

Darkwing rubbed the back of his neck. "That's part of why I came to you. He already committed the crime and he did not get away with it," he said. He looked firmly at something outside the window. "You see, he tried turning people at the Quackwerks into stuffed dolls. And then he attempted to attack all the people playing Whiffle Boy online. I managed to prevent the worst of it. But that wasn't the end of it."

Bushroot raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? What did he do?"

Darkwing ducked his head to rub his eyes under the cover of his hat. "I- Well you see he paid a final visit to an ex of his."

"What? Quackerjack was dating someone?" Bushroot interrupted. "Who?"

Darkwing looked up, hands gripping the edge of the bed. "A woman he knew while everyone was working at the Quackwerks company. But that's not-"

"That's great for him. Do you know why it ended?" Bushroot asked, curious what had happened with his dear friend.

Darkwing groaned. "Personal issues. Look, I'm trying to tell you something and it's not easy. Just listen and stop asking questions."

Bushroot shut his beak, taken aback by the tense tone of the hero's voice. He stared at him for a moment. Darkwing took his hand off and wrung it in his hands to fidget. "That turning people into a doll thing I mentioned. Quackerjack had another version of the machine with him. He went to his ex girlfriend's house and turned himself into a doll on her doorstep. The device he used was smashed. And we can't figure out how to turn him back. He... he wrote something and left it by himself." Darkwing pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket and stood to hand it to Bushroot.

The mutant stared at him in utter disbelief. Turned himself into a doll? He couldn't be turned back? Was he hearing all that right? Darkwing's eyes flickered to the paper, and Bushroot realized he'd just been staring at him the whole time. The villain looked down at the note, and the truth, which had been bubbling up, burst.

THIS IS THE

BEST I'LL

EVER BE.

-JACKY

Bushroot stared at the note for several minutes. The writing was legible. That was unexpected. He must have thought it out. "Sweet Gaia..." Bushroot muttered. This was a suicide note. From Quackerjack. Quackerjack-

"He killed himself?" the mutant asked, his words coming out in a sad whisper. It was broken, weak, and helpless.

Darkwing stumbled on his words. "No- Well- I... Not exactly. He just..." Darkwing never bothered to finish that sentence. He trailed off. Quackerjack wasn't quite dead. But he wasn't alive anymore either.

"Why?" Bushroot dropped the note by his feet, his leafy fingers trembling. His chest felt tight and his brain was swirling. "Why would he... What happened?"

Darkwing bent to pick up the note. He stayed knelt by the plant as he pocketed it. "I'm sure when you four united against Quackwerks, you noticed he was off."

Bushroot thought back, tucking his knees to his chest and hugging them. "I knew he was more easily provoked. He was more assertive. I thought it was weird. But he was always functioning with a few screws loose."

Darkwing sighed. "He experienced some things while working and kinda snapped. Between distrust, loneliness, and depression, he had a lot weighing on him."

"What about that girlfriend? What did she do to him?"

"She loved him," Darkwing assured the mutant. "She reached out to me to try and get me to help, okay? She was looking out for him. They broke up because he was struggling to cope. But she never stopped believing in him."

Bushroot felt tears start running down his face. "He- We- We didn't even realize. If we'd known he was, that he would... Megavolt, Liquidator, and I- Oh how did they take it?"

Darkwing sat against the wall and set his hat next to him. "Megavolt didn't take it well. He blamed me for not saving him."

"Why didn't you?" Bushroot spat bitterly. "Huh? How come?"

Darkwing put his hands up gently. "I tried. I tried talking to him. To his inner child or whatever. I don't know that it was so inner," he chuckled dryly. It didn't cheer up the villain. "It didn't go over well. He got mad. There was fighting. I wanted to-"

"Well, you didn't!" Bushroot retorted. "You didn't save him! I don't care if you 'tried!'" Tears ran down his face. He wiped them violently, rubbing at his face with unnecessary force. He sniffed loudly and turned his face to look out the window. "Maybe if you'd sent him to a mental hospital instead of arresting him, he'd be alive and well."

Darkwing groaned. "I don't need two of you blaming me for this."

"I'm not going to blame Tuskernini or something," Bushroot snipped. "When you tell Liquidator, you'll be lucky if you don't get a custom ass-kicking."

The short hero grabbed his hat and put it back on his head. "Trust me. I'm not looking forward to it. But I swore to tell each of you personally. It just seems wrong letting you find out through a literal grape vine."

"At least a grape vine has more empathy than you!" Bushroot shouted, standing up. He leaned against the wall. "Leave me alone! Just leave-"

"I have plenty of empathy, thank you very much," Darkwing said, standing with him. But he didn't nearly match the plant's height. "Look, Reggie. I'm sorry for your lo-"

Darkwing was slammed against the stone wall by a strong vine. The wind was knocked out of him. He fell on his hands and knees, trying to force his breath to work again. He was picked up by the throat, making this worse. He could feel the vines burning his skin and rubbing away feathers. "Don't call me Reggie! Never call me Reggie again!" Tears streamed down his face. "My friends get to call me that. That means Liquidator, Megavolt, and Quackerjack. NOT a pathetic excuse for a hero who couldn't save one person from himself!" He tightened his vine on Darkwing's neck. "You're no hero! One of my only friends is GONE because you couldn't save him! I had friends. Human friends. Good ones. And because of you, one of them is gone."

"Bushroot!" a female voice shouted. "Leaves off Darkwing and on the floor!"

Bushroot recognized his favorite guard and withdrew his appendages. He dropped to his knees obediently and held his hands behind his head. He didn't want to have to hurt his only companion out here. His companions were hurt as it was. Darkwing was pulled out of the cell, the guard asking questions about his condition. Bushroot heard as Darkwing started gasping again, muttering an assurance. The steel door slammed shut and Bushroot turned to look. The guard was locking him up. He couldn't even feel guilty for assaulting the hero. He deserved it.

As he heard the two leave the section, Bushroot broke down.

No more being pestered by that jester. No more getting his plants trampled by toys. No more zany laughter. No more animated antics. No more Fearsome Four. No more Quackerjack.

"Quackerjack..." Bushroot whispered the name like it was sacred. It was sacred to him. The mutant leaned against the window again and slid down it. He felt his heart twist. "NO!" He held his head in his hands, trying to block out the pain. Why couldn't it come on more slowly?? "I'M SORRY!" If only he would have noticed the signs. If only he would have helped him. If only he could have stopped him. If only he could have hugged him goodbye. The plant-duck dipped his head and whispered, "I'm so sorry!" Reggie just curled up in a shaft of sunlight and sobbed for his fallen playmate.

___

Liquidator knew he must be in a desert. There was no water around most of the time. Therefore, it would be harder for him to use his powers against his captors should he escape. But his cell was waterproof. No holes. No bars. The door was sealed glass that could only be opened from the outside. And it was extremely tolerable to temperature. He'd tried boiling and freezing himself to damage it, to no avail. He couldn't slip through the cracks. There was a sealed circle on the front that the guards used to give him food. But it didn't work from his side. Frustrating as it was, the villain appreciated the ingenuity of the patented product. Seeing as he couldn't escape, he was waiting.

Waiting for what? He wasn't sure. Bushroot, Megavolt, or Quackerjack to get him, he supposed. He missed them badly.

Bud Flud wasn't a kind person. He had few friends growing up, and none since he inherited his father's company. But working with the Fearsome Five was different. He'd expected a simple business partnership, with financial benefits and allies. Though they'd never enjoyed Negaduck's company, the others had found some comfort in each other. They were all a little lonely. They all needed support, and they all gave it. Liquidator hadn't been keen on hanging out after capers. It was Quackerjack's idea. He was always the one trying to make the team get along. Liquidator appreciated the effort.

He'd found it hard to empathize with the group. He had less in common with them. He was the one neurotypical friend. The others functioned so differently from him. And over time, he'd developed a strong protectiveness over them. They were kind to him in their own odd ways. And, being the only member that could not die, he felt that he had a duty to keep them safe.

He couldn't do that from here. The Liquidator was useless. And if he could find a way his container was imperfect, he would escape faster than you could say "Liquidator protection, 100% safety guarantee!"

His captors were not friendly. They never spoke to him. They gave him a bit of food every day. He'd eat in silence. Actually, he wasn't entirely certain what he did could be called "eating." He ate food, but it dissolved in his body rather fast. He wasn't even sure he needed to eat. But the food here wasn't awful. So he wasn't going to turn down the opportunity to eat. He knew he differed from Bushroot in that way. He rarely ate. Sometimes, when they were all free, they'd hold up a pizza joint, or steal takeout. Bushroot would eat if the rest of the group was. Liquidator, however, kept eating so regularly, he couldn't tell if he really needed it to survive.

As the canine was lost in his swirling thoughts, he heard a door open at the end of the hall. A few guards entered, escorting someone short down the hall. They stopped in front of his containment cell. Standing there, in front of the sealed door, was none other than-"

Darkwing Duck," Liquidator said. He'd been laying in a plastic tub, his body halfway in puddle form. He rose up, flowing over to the door and raising what would be an eyebrow. "To what do I owe this great displeasure?"

Darkwing sighed, twiddling his thumbs. His voice came through muffled from the thickness of the glass. "News. There's something you should know. I wish I could've told you this in private, but after my last meeting with a supervillain, I couldn't take the risks." He gestured to the guards on either side of him.

Liquidator didn't like the sound of it. A meeting with another supervillain? And it made him paranoid about having bodyguards? Liquidator burst into rude, deep laughter. "How about that? Darkwing Duck is suddenly afraid of a supervillain. One explanation is that he's losing his cool and his touch!"

Darkwing groaned, rubbing a hand down his bill. "Hoo, boy. I'm not in the mood for banter, buddy. This isn't going to be easy for you to hear. I'd rather get it over with."

Liquidator crossed his arms. "You come to my prison cell and refuse to entertain a conversation with me? That sounds like-"

"Please don't be difficult," Darkwing insisted. "You're the sane one. You are perfectly capable of shutting your snout and cooperating." He looked the villain in his bottomless eyes.

The Liquidator had to stop and think. Did he want to seek entertainment in upsetting Darkwing? Or did he want to know what this was about. He noticed how tired Darkwing was. What time was it? How had he gotten here from St. Canard? Why was he worried about security? What did he have to say? Why did he refer to Liquidator as "the sane one?" Did this have to do with the Fearsome Five?

"Hold on. Let me guess," he said jokingly. "You need my assistance to help defeat Negaduck?"

"Liquidator, please-"

"I'm not taking any part in the affairs of heroism in St. Canard," the canine said stubbornly. "I care nothing for you or what you have to say. The Liquidator inquires why he should listen to you after you locked him away from my team." He crossed his arms, a soft sloshing sound as he did so. "I owe you nothing."

"No, you don't," Darkwing said, starting to raise the volume of his voice. "But for pretty much killing you, I owe you something. So let me-"

"Oh, now you apologize for that," Liquidator said with an eye roll. "You should have apologized when you knocked me into a vat of toxic water and melted my body!"

Darkwing's pride overcame him. "Hey, hey, hey! The water was only toxic because you poisoned it!"

"It was supposed to be gross, not poisonous. If you hadn't startled me-"

"If you hadn't been committing a crime in the first- I didn't come here to talk about this!" Darkwing said, gripping his fists and holding them at his sides.

"Your exact words, I believe, were-" He shifted his form to be short and clothed like Darkwing. "'Cases are so much easier when the bad guy offs himself like that!'"

The guards gave weird looks to Darkwing, who pulled his collar and chuckled nervously. "Now, don't go mincing my words-"

"I'm not mincing them. That was a direct quote by Darkwing Duck in 1991," Liquidator mocked. "You enjoyed the thought that I'd personally jumped into the vat to off myself."

Darkwing's eyes widened. "No, I did not-"

"I bet you took credit for the defeat. As if you yourself had forced me to the point of suicide. Like that would be so heroic. Well I have a hot take for you, Darkwing Duck. It's not."

Darkwing groaned, rubbing between his eyes. "That's not what I meant. Would you believe I felt guilty for that and didn't know what else to say?"

"Of course."

Darkwing's face lit up a bit as he looked up. "Really?"

"Ha! No," Liquidator told him with a smirk. "You have no sense of empathy. And therefore, you do not posses the true qualities we're looking for in a superhero. Not to mention your lack of superpowers. Unfortunately-"

"Quackerjack is dead!"

Both of them fell to silence. The guards looked between Darkwing and Liquidator, frowning. Darkwing was breathing heavily, clearly distressed by the topic.

Liquidator felt himself go entirely still. Had he heard Darkwing right? Had he meant that? Quackerjack was dead? As if his throat had gone dry, Liquidator swallowed. "I may need you to repeat your previous statement due to a misunderstanding."

Darkwing took a deep breath. "Quackerjack. He's dead. He- He snapped and when his last caper failed, he... Well he actually..." The hero pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and offered it to the Liquidator. Since he couldn't take it, Liquidator just stared as it was pressed against the glass for him to read.

THIS IS THE

BEST I'LL

EVER BE.

-JACKY

Darkwing's voice wavered as he spoke. "He tried to hurt a lot of people in his last caper. I tried talking him out of it. I tried to calm him down and find a way to help, I did." He teared up. "It backfired horribly. I stopped him from hurting all but one person. He- He turned himself into a doll like he'd intended for..." The hero swallowed and looked up at the other. "I worked with the police department to change him back but it didn't work. He's as good as dead."

Liquidator felt his water run cold. In his horror, he didn't notice his legs frosting over. "So he offed himself?"

Darkwing nodded, withdrawing the note. Liquidator almost reached to grab it, but his hand just pressed against the glass. "Please believe me when I say I'm sorry for your loss. If only I could-"

"Save the pity," Liquidator said coldly. "And leave the premises immediately." He glared at the so-called "hero." Quackerjack was gone and no amount of apologizing would bring him back. The canine was glad he couldn't exactly cry. He refused to let Darkwing see him that way. "Congratulations on defeating another bad guy."

"Don't pull that crap on me," Darkwing said defensively. "I'm not proud of it. Despite what you and the others seem to think."

Liquidator's interest peaked. "Who else have you told this information to?"

"Megavolt and Bushroot-"

"How are you alive after facing them?" Liquidator asked. "Because if I wasn't behind this wall, I'd force my fist down your trachea and give you a patented death by drowning!" He pounded a hand against the glass, a loud thud echoing but no damage being done. His body went from frosting over to starting to boil. "You're a dead duck!"

A guard turned and nudged Darkwing to move out. As the group started leaving, Liquidator slammed his fist on the wall again. "I guarantee your doom once I get out of here, Darkwing!" he shouted. "Mark my words!!"

The door slammed shut and Liquidator only waited a moment before he broke down. "GAH!" He looked down. If he could breathe, he'd be gasping to keep himself together. But instead, he just pounded on the wall uselessly.

Quackerjack was gone. Megavolt and Bushroot must be crushed. Megavolt was the closest to the jester. Bushroot was so attached to him, all of them, really. And he could get so emotional. They were both probably so hurt. Liquidator was hurting, too. He hurt because he knew they were the only three people in the world who cared. Because he knew Darkwing wasn't capable of mourning a villain.

But Quackerjack was no villain to them. He was a teammate. He was a friend. He was company, a source of laughter, and the heart of the team. He always brought them together, up until a few months ago when he reunited them. He freed them from a living hell and they had fun together. Sure, they got arrested soon after, but oh, how Bud had missed the action. He'd missed them all so much. And now he was feeling that longing tenfold. He longed for Quackerjack to lighten the mood but he was gone! He longed to find Bushroot and Megavolt so he could hold them close and keep them safe.

He couldn't keep Quackerjack safe from here. He couldn't keep the others safe. Knowing how wildly unpredictable and unstable they were- Oh god, he had to get to them.

___

Liquidator stood and faced his guard. She was going to shove a tray of food through the sealed hole like normal. But Liquidator had other plans. He focused in on himself and then on her, feeling the movement of blood through her veins. He held his arms out and seized that movement. She cried out in shock and tried to pull her arms back. It didn't work. Liquidator bent his arms and started moving them both up and down. Her arms moved in sync with him.

"Ah!" She struggled against him but it didn't work. "What are you doing?"

Liquidator moved his legs and she walked to the seal of the door. He didn't answer, just struggling to grab onto it with the opposite movements. When he moved right, she moved left. He saw her fingers graze the lock and then reached to his hip. She pulled the keys off her belt and started meticulously using each one on the lock. The fourth one made the padlock click and fall. He dropped the keys and grabbed onto the latch.

"To answer your question," he said quietly. His voice was full of venom. "I am getting the hell out of here, and you shall be my unwilling accomplice."

Silent tears fell down the guards face as she felt her blood controlled by a supervillain. Once she'd undone the latch and swung the door open, he released her. The villain flowed out of the cell, swirling and spraying everywhere. "I apologize for any inconvenience. My intention was not to harm you, but unfortunately you came down to give me my rations while I was not at my best. I wish you well."

With that, he splashed down and out of the hall. The villain found a window and leapt out of it. He was right. He was in a desert. The alarm was raised as he sped from the prison.

Now to return to St. Canard and find the other two.

So that didn't go well on Darkwing's end. Now that the rest of the Fearsome Four know about the tragedy, what will they do? What is Liquidator planning? If you're interested, comment. I might continue this story if people show interest in it. Farewell, best of luck, avoid roasted cabbages, don't eat earwax, and look on the bright side of life! Moonset!

#darkwing duck #darkwing duck 1991 #mourning dove #megavolt #quackerjack #liquidator #bushroot #fearsome five #fearsome four #quackervolt #playthyme #bushjack #quackerroot #elmo sputterspark #reginald bushroot #bud flud #waterway #the poly four #dwd

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aidanchaser · 6 months

Text

This fic is owed to @valiantlyjollynightmare for the original and @ladyofthenoodle for a full 3 rounds of beta reading. I haven't had so much redrafting of a fic or intensive beta reader work since I was writing the HP AU. She was truly a phenomenal help, and her work paid off. Please drop her a thank you for organizing the @mlsquaredance event and all her incredible hard work on this one-shot.

Read the original work here.

Read the remix on Ao3 or below.

Marinette left her phone on her bedside table as she trudged downstairs. She was done checking messages and pictures, and she was done with tears.

Luka had made his choice. He was on tour again, probably having a great time without her, and there was no sense scrolling through his posts for any signs that he missed her. She certainly didn’t miss him. She’d spent too much of their relationship missing him. Just because she was a bit horny didn’t mean she had to be sad about it.

But the apartment sure was quiet without him.

The refrigerator’s magnetic rubber seal broke that silence with a reluctant pop, and brilliant white light flooded the kitchen. Marinette squinted at her recently filled shelves.

Alya, Nino, and Adrien had been lifesavers after the breakup. Nino had filled her fridge with fresh vegetables; Alya had stocked her cabinets with bottles of wine. Adrien, whose finances were still a legal mess in the wake of his father’s passing, gave her his time.

She’d seen more of Adrien in the past two weeks since the breakup than she had seen of him in the past year while she had been dating Luka. He’d sat with her through her BBC Pride and Prejudice marathon, through three watches of Pride and Prejudice (2005), and through one watch of Pride, Prejudice, and Zombies. He’d even offered to stay overnight, to keep her company, as if he knew that company was the way she coped, but she’d turned him down.

One of the challenges of being newly single was waking up at midnight with a very strong urge to be dicked down. She appreciated that Adrien was willing to hold her while she cried through romantic movies; she did not need Adrien to see her wrestling with the urge to roll her hips against his thigh, especially when she couldn’t even be sure that it was Adrien that she wanted. Adrien was a friend, and she wasn’t going to use him just to get some temporary fix. Yes, maybe she had liked Adrien once upon a time, but it was all too complicated now. Just creating a friendship with Adrien had been so much work. She didn’t want to mess it up and lose him.

Neither the vegetables nor the wine held any appeal, so she closed the fridge with a sigh. Marinette leaned against the cool silver door while her eyes readjusted to the dark of her kitchen. Maybe a cold shower was what she needed. She usually had no objections to a steamier shower, but she didn’t want to end up crying her way through an orgasm. She was done crying over Luka, she told herself. She was done feeling sorry for herself.

She opened up a cabinet and pulled down a bottle of olive oil and a jar of popcorn kernels. She’d just make herself a greasy, salty snack before setting into Emma (2020).

The stove clicked and sparked until the gas caught and the fire ignited with a woosh. Marinette poured in the olive oil and waited impatiently for it to sizzle with heat. As she picked up the jar of popcorn kernels, a thud on the small balcony patio of the apartment caught her attention, more muffled than the sparks of her stove, but just as sharp and sudden.

Through her gauzy curtains, silhouetted in the dim streetlight, she saw the shape of a person perched on her balcony. She might have been terrified, or at least startled, if it weren’t for the cat ears on the shadow’s head.

Marinette dumped the kernels into the sizzling oil then unlatched the patio doors.

“What are you doing here?” she said by way of greeting.

Ladybug saw Chat Noir for patrol regularly, of course. But Marinette had hardly seen him in the past year. When Luka had gone on his first tour, Chat Noir had held her while she’d cried, but once Luka had come home, he’d disappeared. Did he know Luka was gone again? Did he know that she and Luka were properly done?

“Making the midnight rounds,” he said easily. His voice was low, like a cat’s purr. “A hero’s work is never done.”

Marinette shifted the weight on her feet, unconsciously pressing her thighs against each other. It was irritating that even just the sound of Chat Noir’s voice was enough to warm her core. Maybe Emma would have to wait until Chat Noir was gone and she’d rubbed out the memory of his purr.

Chat Noir paused and his nose twitched. “Are you cooking in the middle of the night?”

“Just popcorn.”

“Midnight movie?” he asked.

Marinette crossed her arms over her chest and used her ankle to surreptitiously scratch an innocent itch on her calf. She tried not to think about Chat Noir on her couch with the low light of a movie and the weight of a blanket draped over them both. She tried not to think about scratching a different itch.

“Maybe,” she said. “Maybe I just wanted a snack.”

Beneath his mask, his green eyes glinted with a familiar mischief. One eyebrow quirked. “All for yourself?”

She wondered if he was simply asking if she was alone or if he was implying that he wanted to join her. She couldn’t help the icy edge in her reply as she said, “I don’t have a boyfriend anymore, if that’s what you’re asking.”

His perky ears seemed to flatten. It was his turn to shift his stance uncomfortably. He leaned against her patio table, but it wobbled uncertainly and he straightened. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Do you want company?”

There was something delicate in the question. Something in it nagged at her brain, and she recalled the text that Adrien had sent her that morning.

Do you want company today?

Of course she had said yes. She needed noise, she needed distraction, she needed to not be alone with her thoughts. And then she’d sent him home after dinner, because Adrien didn’t deserve to see her like this—sleepless, lonely, and horny.

But Chat Noir wasn’t Adrien.

She pursed her lips and quirked an eyebrow. “I’m certainly in the mood for company.”

His ears perked up again, as if they were perfectly attuned to the purr in her voice. He stepped closer. “And just what sort of snack are you in the mood for?”

“Something simple,” she said as the first kernel of popcorn popped.

The corner of his mouth twitched with a smile, but she thought—maybe she was just projecting her own heartache, but she thought—something in his eyes grew sad.

“I can keep things simple,” he whispered.

She pulled him into a kiss. It was sloppy and wet and she ran her hands through his hair to pull him against her as if she could consume all of him.

It wasn’t her first kiss with Chat Noir by any measure, not as Ladybug, certainly, nor even as Marinette. There’d been kisses done to break curses, kisses done under the weight of curses, kisses done and rejected—and one very wary, delicate kiss on Marinette’s balcony. Chat Noir had told her that he was in love with Ladybug, but, somehow, in the midst of his heartache and her longing, they had kissed. She’d apologized, promised him that it didn’t mean anything, that she was in love with Luka anyway. And a week later, she and Luka had started dating, and Chat Noir had stopped coming by Marinette’s balcony—at least until Luka’s first tour.

He seemed to have an uncanny sense for when she was lonely.

She rolled her hips against his thigh and moaned into his mouth as the popcorn on the stove began to rattle in earnest. His hand trailed down to her waist, but he hesitated as he reached her hip. That wouldn’t do.

Marinette grabbed his wrist and, without breaking their kiss, yanked him into her apartment. She backed into the kitchen counter and guided his padded leather gloves to the elastic waistband of her pajamas.

He took her invitation readily, slipping his fingers inside the soft satin of her underwear and into her damp folds. She hissed like the fire on her stove and moaned with a heat just as warm as his fingers pressed into her clit. She rolled her hips again, but he dropped his other hand back to her waist and held her in place. She whined as he set the pace of her pleasure and whined again as he broke their kiss.

He pressed his lips to her cheek and then to her ear. His hand continued to pump her as he whispered, “You’re letting your popcorn burn.”

She hadn’t noticed that the sound of popping kernels had ceased. She hadn’t caught the whiff of charred popcorn yet. And now that he pointed it out, she didn’t care.

“If you stop, I will kill you,” she hissed into his ear.

His laugh was deep in his throat, another purr of pleasure as he picked up his pace. She gasped and tipped her head back. He responded by pressing his lips against her throat. The sharp canines scraped her neck and she shivered. She was so familiar with those teeth, familiar with the way they scratched her tongue and now her exposed skin. It was those teeth that assured her that she had never met Chat Noir outside of their masks. She would know the shape of those fangs on sight.

If his claws had not chosen that moment to catch on her clit, sharp and poignant, it might have occurred to her that the canines were as conjured as his expressive ears.

Her entire body trembled and she bit down on her lip to hold in her moan, not because she was afraid to be loud but because she was afraid that her pleasure would break her if she indulged it too heavily.

Chat Noir, however, didn’t seem to notice her attempt at restraint. He flicked the tip of his thumb against her clit again and she choked on another moan. One of her hands tightened in his hair, and her other squeezed his waist like she was afraid he would evaporate. He sucked gently on her neck and curled his fingers up into her.

“Chat,” she whined and gasped as her fluids soaked his hand, as her orgasm rippled through her until she was boneless, pinned between him and the kitchen counter, and still he didn’t stop. “Chat,” she cried again, breath hitching as his thumb drew her up suddenly into another tight coil and release. “Chat, please—”

He dragged his lips back up to her ear, and his teeth nipped at her lobe. “I thought you’d kill me if I stopped,” he murmured.

“I think I’ll die if you don’t,” she gasped.

She felt the shape of his grin against her jaw. He pulled his hand out from her shorts and pulled her back into another soft, delicate kiss, just as wary and gentle as the kiss they had exchanged a year ago. Her first epiphany of the evening sparked without warning and she pulled away from him with a start.

He didn’t love Ladybug. He never had.

“You lied to me.”

“I would never lie to you,” he murmured, and moved his kiss down her chin, back to her neck. He nosed against the underside of her jaw like a cat insisting on affection.

“You told me that you were in love with Ladybug.”

His lips went still against her throat. “You said you wanted this to be simple.”

“I want you to be honest.”

He still hesitated. The sizzle of the oil hissed in the kitchen, but its delicate scent was overwhelmed with burned popcorn. If they weren’t careful, the smoke detector would force their kiss apart, but Marinette wasn’t going to let him go without an answer.

Finally, he admitted, “I was in love with Ladybug. Until we kissed.”

She swallowed, painfully aware of the way her throat bobbed against his lips. “And so this past year?”

“I’ve waited.”

“Chat…”

“You’re about to burn your kitchen down,” he murmured, and pulled away.

Reluctantly, Marinette turned off her stove and scraped the black scraps of charcoal that had once been popcorn into the garbage. Chat Noir scrubbed his gloved hands clean.

Hot tears, fueled by frustration as much as embarrassment burned behind Marinette’s eyes as she scraped the blackened mess into the pan. She’d sent Adrien away because she didn’t want to risk her friendship with him, didn’t want to need him in a way he didn’t need her. Now here she was, doing to Chat Noir exactly what she had never wanted to do with Adrien. As much as she might want to give back, as much as she might want to meet him where he was, she couldn’t, and that knowledge hurt.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked. She was glad that her voice was hardly audible over the running water; maybe he wouldn’t hear the bitter anger. It wasn’t meant for him, anyway. It was directed at herself.

She tried to nudge him aside so she could clean the pan, but he wouldn’t budge. Instead, he took the pan from her and picked up a towel. She was forced to watch as he scoured the blackened pan. He looked so intent on the task, she wondered if he had heard her question at all.

Then he turned off the water and said, “You told me that it didn’t matter.”

Her hand was on the pan, ready to take it from him and dry it off, but she froze. Though a protest sat on the tip of her tongue, she couldn’t give it voice. She was the one who had said that their kiss a year ago hadn’t mattered.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said, unsure what else she could say.

He shrugged, as if indicating carelessness, but as she took the pan, he anxiously twisted the ring on his finger. Though the green, glowing paw print was dim, it seemed brilliant in the dark kitchen.

“I’m no stranger to rejection.”

Her heart lurched as it occurred to her that his familiarity with rejection was her fault on two counts. But she never knew what she was supposed to do with Chat Noir’s feelings. Somehow she always managed to misunderstand him when he did nothing but lay things bare for her.

“I guess I should make more popcorn,” she murmured.

As she set the pan back on the stove, Chat Noir grabbed her wrist. “Marinette—”

She looked at him—truly looked—at the flat shape of his ears and the slump in his shoulders, haloed by the streetlight flooding through her open balcony. Despite the darkness, his green eyes glinted like his ring and his jaw worked as he worked through his thoughts. He was always so quick with his wit in a fight, but in the quiet spaces like this, when he was with Marinette, when he was asked to be vulnerable, he was always so cautious and careful.

“It’s okay with me,” he finally said, “if this is all it is. I just want to be with you, and I don’t mind if—”

“Chat, I can’t—that’s not fair to you.”

“I don’t care.”

“But I do.”

The irony that she cared too much to do this to him, that she cared but not in the way that he wanted, was not lost on her.

He let her go and turned toward the balcony.

“Chat…” She didn’t mean to call him back, but she didn’t know how she was supposed to let him go like this. “I am sorry,” she finally said.

His hand lingered against her kitchen counter, and his claws clicked delicately against the tile. “Would you trust me if I said that it hurts less to be with you, even if I can’t have all of you, compared with the agony of being apart from you?”

If she was just Marinette, maybe she would have accepted his offer. Maybe she could have trusted him when he said that he would let it be simple, that he’d allow her to use him as she needed without ache or bitterness. But she was also Ladybug, and she knew the way her partner threw himself on swords for others. She could not fight beside him each day while also destroying him each night.

But Marinette couldn’t tell him that.

As he took her silence for denial, his hands flexed and contracted with his unspoken frustration. He managed a rather tight, “Good night, Marinette,” before disappearing into the night.

She swallowed as he left, waited a moment in her dark kitchen as the silence filtered back in, as the quiet settled into her bones and the ache settled back into her heart.

Maybe she did know what he meant about the agony of being apart.

In search of noise and company, she went back upstairs to her phone. Her thumb hovered over Luka’s icon for only a moment before she swiped away. Instead, she snapped a picture of her laptop screen with the streaming page for Emma open and sent it to Adrien. Then she left her phone on her bed and went to take a cold shower.

Adrien would get the picture in the morning. He’d offer to watch it with her again during the day, and she’d accept his offer of company and distraction. Maybe they would watch Clueless after, or even branch out their romantic film subgenres beyond Austen films and try 10 Things I Hate About You.

But when she got out of the shower, there was already a text from Adrien.

I’ll bring snacks.

She was still reading the text, still trying to make sense of it, as she stood in her room wrapped in naught but a towel and her hair still dripping wet, when a gentle knock sounded from downstairs.

A key jiggled in the lock—she forgot that he had kept the key she’d given him to water her plants when she’d gone with Luka on his second tour—and her door creaked open.

Adrien’s voice broke into her dark, quiet apartment. “Marinette? I brought cheesecake.”

She shrieked, “Adrien, I’m not dressed!” and slammed her bedroom door closed.

His laugh was a snort, muffled and distant. Hastily, she toweled and combed her hair and yanked on a fresh, dry pair of underwear and shorts. She didn’t know where her bra was and she didn’t have the time to look, so she simply threw on a t-shirt.

When she came downstairs, Adrien was standing in her kitchen with two forks in hand. She knew she must look a mess, but he beamed at her, despite her own scowl.

“I thought the picture was an invitation,” he said, head tipped to one side.

“I didn’t think you were awake! I thought—I didn’t know—”

He cut her fumbling protests off with another laugh. Adrien settled onto the edge of her couch and opened up a pale pink cake box to reveal a cake with red raspberry swirled into the cream. She wondered where he had gotten a raspberry cheesecake at this hour.

“I’ll go if you want me to,” he offered, “and leave the cake.”

“No—stay.”

The words were hardly out of her mouth before Adrien was already pulling off his coat and collapsing into her couch. Beneath his neat black peacoat, he was dressed in his own pajamas, like he had seen her text and merely rolled out of bed and into a jacket.

While Adrien plated two generous slices of cheesecake, Marinette dug through the couch cushions for the remote. She found it wedged between Adrien and the back of the couch, yanked it out, and clicked on the T.V. The pale blue light flooded over the two of them, and when she turned to get cheesecake from Adrien, she found him staring at her with an unfamiliar expression.

He was smiling, eyebrows lifted in his usual fashion, like something between expectation and excitement, but she thought—and maybe she was just projecting her own heartache, but she thought—there was something sad in his green eyes.

Then those strangely sad eyes dropped to her collar and his hand drifted to her neck. His fingers brushed against her skin and lightning lanced through her lungs. A dozen protests bubbled to the surface, all the arguments she had just used with Chat Noir—she only wanted something simple; she wasn’t ready for anything truly intimate after this breakup; things were always complicated with Adrien—but they all died on her tongue, as her words so often did when it came to Adrien.

But instead of pulling her against him like she thought he might, he asked, “What happened here?”

In her haste to dress, she hadn’t bothered to check herself in the mirror, but her heart pounded with the memory of Chat Noir’s lips latched to her neck. Was it only a bruise of blood drawn to the surface, or were there also scratch marks from his canines? Her face was hot with blush, but she hoped in the dim light of the T.V., he wouldn’t be able to tell.

“It—” Her throat lurched against Adrien’s fingers as she tried to swallow down a lie, but she wasn’t sure how to tell him the truth. “I don’t—I mean, it’s only—”

And then Adrien’s fingers curled around the back of her neck and his thumb brushed the underside of her chin so gently, so carefully. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Her heart stuttered with a familiar agony. She had promised herself that she was not going to cry about Luka tonight, that she was done with tears, but they welled up anyway.

She and Luka had tried so hard; they really had. But he always wanted more of her than she had to give. He wanted everything, and Marinette could never give her partner everything—she had too many secrets that she had to keep. She had too many bits of herself that even she was still processing, that were still too raw and rough to share.

She’d tried giving Luka everything that she could. She’d even left Scarabella in charge while she went on tour with Luka once, but nothing had ever made it better. She’d wanted time—they’d needed time—and there had never been enough.

But here was Adrien, offering her the two things Luka never could: her secrets and his time.

The tears she had been fighting all evening finally burst out, and Adrien pulled her against his chest, as he had so many times before. She didn’t want to know how many tears she had soaked into his T-shirts in the last few weeks, how many wrinkles she had worn into his clothes by clutching at them with tight fists, how much of her snot he’d had to wash out of his laundry.

With Herculean strength, Marinette rubbed her eyes dry and pulled away. She fumbled for a tissue, but the box on her coffee table was just inches out of reach. Adrien pressed a handkerchief into her hand, like he had come prepared. It wasn’t fair to him to take so much, but it was so easy when he gave so readily.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

Marinette wiped her cheeks and blew her nose. “What on earth are you apologizing for?”

Without her to hold onto, his hands found each other. His thumb rubbed into his palm like he might be able to push his explanation out. Even in the dim light from the T.V. and the street, she could see his jaw working through his words, like he was turning the pages of a dictionary in his head to make sure he picked the right ones.

“I…” He paused again and swallowed. “I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he finally said, which felt like so small of an apology when weighed against the length of the pause.

“It’s not your fault,” she assured him. “I just…” She didn’t need to explain how lonely she was to Adrien. He’d heard it all before, and of course he must know it, or he wouldn’t have shown up to her apartment in the middle of the night with cheesecake in tow. “I just really appreciate that you’re always there for me,” she finally said, and even though it felt small, it was earnest.

“I would rather be with you than not.”

Her heart fully stopped, and she searched for something in Adrien’s eyes, some clue that the connection between his plea and Chat Noir’s question was more than coincidence, but he was no longer looking at her. His eyes were on his hands as he twisted his ring around his finger. The dull silver still glinted in the dim light from outside.

She felt like she was looking at her Lucky Charm at the moment it fell into her hands, knowing the answer was right in front of her but unable to put all the pieces together. She followed her lucky instinct, though, and placed one hand over Adrien’s hands, forcing them still. The other lifted to the back of his neck and pulled him closer into a kiss.

It was soft, delicate, gentle. It made sense for Adrien in a way Chat Noir’s kisses had never quite made sense for him.

Adrien, who was so willing to give her his time, and Chat Noir, who was always there when the people Marinette wanted weren’t.

Adrien pulled away rather suddenly, like something had yanked him away from her. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I shouldn’t—you don’t want—this isn’t fair—”

It was unusual to watch Adrien flounder for words. Marinette, though, didn’t have it in her to be amused, not with the weight of this secret dawning. She waited a moment for Bunnyx to appear or time to reset, but Adrien continued to struggle his way through an apology, and the T.V. continued to hum its bright blue static glare.

There was no undoing what had been done, and she couldn’t exactly avoid it.

“I think,” she murmured, “that unfair is showing up on my balcony after I told you that I was ready to be alone.”

The panic in Adrien’s eyes was brief as he realized he’d been found out, but he crumpled into himself almost immediately. His hands raked through his hair and Marinette’s first thought was that she could be running her hands through his hair, but her second thought was how utterly broken he looked.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I didn’t want it to—I didn’t mean for it to turn out like it did. I just—I was worried about you. You know what it’s like at my house and—I know you think I don’t want to see you sad or something, but Marinette, being with you like this is a hundred times better than being without you.” He kept his eyes on his hands as he twisted his ring around his finger. “Please don’t tell anyone,” he whispered.

Marinette frowned. “I wouldn’t.”

“I mean it—I-I can’t let Ladybug know I’ve broken her trust.”

Marinette bit down on her lip. She wasn’t sure how to say the thing she knew she had to say next. Her throat felt tight with the secret she had kept for so long, that she had finally choked out to Alya after one terrible day.

But he looked so genuinely terrified to think he might hurt Ladybug, and Marinette had the power to assuage that fear. For once, she could offer him some comfort.

Marinette unhooked Adrien’s hands from his neck and pulled them into her lap. Then, she unfastened her earrings and placed them into his palm.

Though he did not move, did not look up at her, she watched the tension in his shoulders shift. His hand closed around the earrings and he felt the shape of them, the warmth from being fastened in her ears and from the magic that pulsed within them.

Finally, Adrien looked up at her. His eyes were still sad, but the longing was so much more prominent. His voice was tight as he said, “Are you… truly?”

She nodded.

Then his shoulders sagged and he looked away. “No wonder you keep turning me down. We have a job to do, and I suppose the job comes first. No sense complicating things, right?”

But Marinette’s need for simple had nothing to do with complicating Ladybug and Chat Noir’s relationship. It had always been about protecting her partner and protecting her own heart. But knowing that the boy she had fallen for long before Luka, the boy who was always there for her, and her loyal partner were one and the same? She was no longer interested in simple.

In fact, she felt like an idiot for thinking she could get away with only displaying the palatable parts of herself to Adrien. He knew her better than anyone, and she knew him, and it was never going to be simple when there were that many fractured pieces stacked together between the two of them.

“Adrien,” she whispered, “I think… maybe without so many secrets, it isn’t all that complicated.”

He met her eyes again and something in his posture perked; she could almost see the cat ears on his head lifting to attention.

“Marinette,” he said, so softly, so tenderly that Marinette could not help but lean in.

She leaned in until their lips were pressed together. The wariness, the gentleness, the tenderness—all of it was cast aside. This kiss transformed into nothing but want and need, as if she could draw all of him up into all of her.

Adrien’s softness and wariness evaporated suddenly. He turned his kiss against the corner of her mouth then to the underside of her jaw. “My lady,” he murmured into her neck, and his voice seemed to reverberate in her chest and curl into her stomach. He pressed her lips against the mark on her neck in a grateful, needy kiss and adjusted to sit on top of her, pinning her back against the couch as Chat Noir had pinned her against her kitchen counter.

Marinette fumbled for the remote and clicked the T.V. off. They didn’t need a movie to carry them through the evening, and they certainly didn’t need the glare of the empty screen. The dark was enough; each other was enough. The cheesecake would wait. Marinette had a much better midnight snack to get to.

#miraculous square dance 2023 #marichat #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfic #ml fic #ml

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seacee16 · 7 months

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when petals fall | bangchan

bang chan x original female character

NSFW WARNING: This chapter contains sexual content and is not safe for young readers, so please skip if you are not part of the mature audience. No plot will be missed if you skip this chapter, its pretty much just some spice between the angst and fluff.

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!! FULL STORY ON AO3 !!

ch. 15 ~ when you are most unique in all the world

“Can I draw you?”

Chan looked at her with wide eyes. “You want to draw me?”

“Well, since we’re just passing time here, why not?” She responded with a shrug. A small grin fell upon his face as he nodded, watching her face light up when given permission. Sakura motioned for him to stay seated where he was and pulled a leather-bound book out of a nearby drawer. She leaned back against the row of waist-high cupboards and flipped through the book in a blur of white and charcoal grey. When she finally reached a crisp blank page, he saw her lift her pencil toward him for a moment before getting to work.

A comfortable silence fell over the pair, the hum of an unknown playlist playing faintly in the background. It had been three weeks since Jeju. Neither of them had brought up the happenings of the trip, but anyone could tell that something had changed. The pair seemed closer, touchier even. Sakura could feel it when Chan was close. A strong pull that could only be described as magnetic. A tension that hadn’t been there before.

“Is this pose okay? Don’t models usually look more…provocative?” Chan saw her eyes flutter up to watch him over the edge of her book.

“Just because some of them pose nude, doesn’t mean it’s provocative.”

Chan nodded his head, as if to say ‘really?’. Her eyes followed his hands as they lifted to loosen the buttons at the top of his dark polo shirt, opening the collar. Then he shifted, spreading his legs and leaning further back into the chair. “Feel free to look, petal, but touching will cost you,” he said lightly. Sakura just rolled her eyes.

“Stop moving,” she stated bluntly. Sakura tried to focus, but suddenly every minute detail of his being seemed to be screaming at her. The muscles in his neck when his head tilted to the right ever so slightly. The dual sparkle in his eyes as he stared back at her. The smooth bumps in the material of his shirt, hugging his torso in an almost illegal manner. His hands rested on his thighs, but every once-in-a-while one would lift to push his hair back.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “You alright there, petal?”

He knew she was staring. It was obvious. Still, she let her eyes fall back to her incomplete drawing and said, “if you’re trying to seduce me, Christopher, it’s not going to work.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to keep trying.”

Sakura ignored his comment, forcing herself to continue with what she had started. She had been excited to draw him, but now she wanted nothing more than to be done. The pencil felt too heavy between her fingers. Her skin too hot.

He wasn’t joking when he said that he would keep trying. The male continued to move around in his seat, but earned nothing more than an annoyed huff from Sakura as her fingers danced between pencil and rubber. When a few moments passed without any word from the girl, Chan stood from his chair and walked up to her. Another frustrated huff was heard.

In one quick motion, Chan picked her up by the waist and set Sakura down onto the counter behind her. He stood comfortably in the empty space between her knees, hands moving to her thighs. Her jeans was rough under his hands, but he could feel the heat of her skin in the areas where the material had been purposefully ripped. He let his thumb slide over the skin of her leg, feeling the tiny bumps that he sensed he had caused. His grip tightened, kneading the flesh beneath his hands in a slow rhythm.

Despite the claps of thunder beneath her ribcage, Sakura managed to keep her voice steady as she said, “You’re lucky I wasn’t drawing with pen.”

Determined to get a proper reaction out of the girl, Chan tried to think of a new approach. That was when his eyes landed on the palette of still-wet paint within arms-reach. Slowly, he dragged it along the countertop until it was close enough that he could dip his fingers into the purple hue. He lifted the single paint-covered finger and pressed it just under Sakura’s jaw. There was a noticeable hitch in her breath, but it wasn’t enough for him. He could do better than that. The lone finger trailed down the span of her neck, creating delicate swirls over the soft skin. It was then that the girl’s movement began to falter, slowing to a halt. Her hands dropped to her sides. That’s more like it, he thought to himself. He let himself continue after his finger returned with more paint. Down the dip at the base of her neck and along the exposed collarbone. Chan hadn’t noticed before, but the old button-up seemed to hang looser on her frame than usual, and it was almost fully buttoned. It was a little skew, covering one shoulder entirely while the other was left open. He shifted between her legs, moving closer just an inch.

It was that moment that Sakura dropped her book onto the counter besides her, immediately pushing her free hands against his chest. “Fucking tease,” she mumbled in frustration as she hopped off the counter.

Chan had expected her to walk off, to pack up her things and leave. Instead, she stood her ground before him. “Did you really think I would break that easily?” The loose band that had been holding her hair together in a limp bun had fallen in her haste, leaving her waves to frame her face, partially hiding her. Her hands begun to move, fiddling with the buttons of her own shirt until two of them came free, exposing her collar bones and the slightest hint of-

“Okay, okay, you win, I’m sorry,” Chan rushed as his eyes shot up to the ceiling, admiring the paper snowflakes that swayed with the breeze.

“Oh, so you’re allowed to tease but I’m not? That doesn’t seem very fair to me, Christopher.”

He felt an open palm press to his chest. Without looking, Chan started to back away. Only he didn’t make it far before he felt himself hit the very counter she had been seated on minutes before. When he tried to escape a second time, Sakura did something that really surprised him. She reached forward him, slipping delicate fingers through the belt loops of his pants before pulling him into her.

Sakura giggled internally at the way his eyes blew up at the unexpected act, enjoying the little bit of power she suddenly had over him. So, she continued, leaning until her nose brushed up against his Adam’s apple. Her hands, ever so timid, moved up to his torso. Her fingers spread out, memorising every bump and dip felt through the thin material of his polo while he stayed still. His breathing had become ragged and uneven. He was trying, and she could tell.

When his hands reached for her, she knocked them away cheekily. “Ah, ah, touching will cost you,” she whispered against the skin of his neck before placing a sweet kiss where her words had grazed.

Chan’s fists curled around the edge of the countertop behind him, gripping it until his knuckles went white.

“Sakura,” he sighed contently. The sound made her stomach clench nervously. There was something about the way he whispered, almost whimpered, her name. He murmured the three syllables like a silent prayer. As if the Lord he believed in was right in from of him. Like the final lyric of a ballad, fading with the melody.

When she noticed the placement of his hands, she grinned. Sakura placed another kiss to his skin, right on his jaw. “Look at you keeping your hands to yourself. You listen so well, Chris.” He let out a strangled noise, the plea of a tortured man. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his fingers tighten at her words. She found pleasure in seeing the boy squirm.

Maybe next time.

Sakura gripped both of his hands in her own, thumbing over his tense knuckles as she guided them to her waist. She watched as Chan finally let his eyes slip open, brown eyes watching her every move. Feeling confidence surged through her body, she held the eye contact as she lifted his hands a little higher until they passed under the hem of her shirt. His fingers flexed instinctively under her own.

With one final reassuring squeeze of her hands, she let go. His hands moved as if they had a mind of their own, finding a comfortable place as the smallest point of her waist as she moved closer.

And then she was kissing him.

Chan couldn’t help himself. He felt as every one of his senses clouded over with lust, oblivious to anything that wasn’t the girl under his touch. His eyelids slid closed, and he let himself get lost in the kiss. It was deeper this time, stronger, hotter. Every inch of her cosmic being was pressed up against him. His fingers drifted higher, skimming over the bottom of her bra. At the same time, a soft hum sounded from Sakura. A sound of approval. He had her back on top of the counter in a heartbeat, his body pressing against her own. Her shirt had ridden up, exposing a band of skin just above her jeans. It was getting in the way.

As if reading his mind, Sakura reached up to loosen the remaining buttons on her shirt. But before any progress could be made, her hands were slapped away and replaced by his own. They worked swiftly, undoing each one without removing his lips from her own. He felt her tongue against his, taunting and teasing. She moaned into his mouth, her skin vibrating with every graze of his fingertips down her chest. When the final button was pushed through its hole, Chan's hands wasted no time and slipped between the folds of her shirt and down her abdomen. Her skin was warm beneath his touch.

Her own hands were at the hem of his polo not long after, tugging it free from his pants and up. Chan reluctantly untangled himself from her, just enough that he could slip the material over his head. He paused when we saw the look on her face. Sakura's eyes had drifted down the span of his chest, tracing over every swell of muscle with a hungry gaze. Her hair was a mess and her lips were a brighter shade of red than when he had arrived, swollen with lust. His eyes lowered, pausing at the sight of the blue lace covering her breasts. The skin of her stomach was smooth, her lower ribs signed with beauty spots and faint freckles. One side of her shirt hung low around her elbow, exposing paint-free skin to his eyes. She looked mesmerising. A work of art.

"You're staring again," she teased, staring up at him through thick lashes.

Chan smirked, repositioning himself in the open space between her legs as his hands slid up her thighs, his lips hovering painfully over hers. "You're nice to stare at." He grazed the back of his hand along her cheek, relishing in the way she smiled up at him. "Is this okay?" He whispered.

Sakura nodded, shifting to sit up straighter on the counter. She looped her arms around his torso, shivering at the feeling his heated skin against her bare chest. Then, with a tint to her cheeks, she asked, "I don’t suppose you have a condom on you?"

The male seemed to suddenly choke on air, turning a scarlet shade of red from his neck right up to the top of his ears. He stuttered, trying to figure out what to say. In the end, all he managed to do was shake his head shyly.

She giggled, gifting him a quick kiss before telling him where her purse was, and where he could find one.

"Should I be worried that you just happen to have this on you?" Chan asked when he pulled the foil square out of her bag's inner pocket.

"It was a gag gift from my friends before I left Japan," she responded from behind him. "Akio slipped a box into my bag when okaasan wasn't looking."

Turning towards her, Chan found himself frozen in place. In the time he had taken to locate the item in her bag, Sakura had rid herself of her jeans. His eyes trailed up her body. He could spend forever lusting over the infinite span of her legs alone. Fair and speckled. And when he found that the underwear that had been hidden beneath her denim honed the same blue tone as its upper pairing, he winced in discomfort. He felt himself ache at the sight of her alone. She was stunning.

"Akio?" Chan asked, approaching her slowly like a cat upon its prey. "A guy?"

Sakura rolled her eyes, folding one long leg over the other and leaning forward. "Yes, Christopher. A male. One who happens to be a very good friend of mine, along with his girlfriend."

"Fair enough," he laughed. Gripping both knees, Chan pushed her legs apart, finding himself back between her thick thighs. Chan let his hands feel their way up her legs, grinning at the goosebumps that followed his fingers up to the dips of her hips. "Are there any other good male friends I need to know about?"

Sakura's head lulled to the side, eyes daunting as she grabbed onto the waist of his jeans and pulled him closer. Once he was close enough, she wrapped both legs around him, her arms following suit around his shoulders. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she looked at him. "Several, actually."

His hands skimmed over her waist, pulling playfully at the elastic of her underwear. "Any worthy competition?"

Her eyes flickered down to Chan's lips as he leaned in to kiss her. Without hesitation, she replied honestly, "Not at all." But before he reached her, she paused.

"Wait," she told him, pushing his frame back enough to look him in the eye. They were clouded, but she knew that he had heard her. He stopped immediately, ready to pull away as soon as she said the word. But it never came. Instead, Sakura cupped his face in her gentle hands and whispered, "are you sure?"

A choked laugh slipped from his lips before he could cover it up. Chan pressed his forehead to hers, a wide grin on his face. "I don’t think it’s possible for me to ever be more sure about something, petal."

Her face broke out in a bright smile before leaning up to kiss him. Her arms wrapped around his neck as he held her waist, inching her hips closer to the edge of the counter. Her jeans were now laying forgotten on the floor, and Chan was able to feel all of her against him. With her legs wrapped around him, he could feel her pressed up against the tightness in his jeans. He hissed against her lips, feeling her hips move against him. It was painfully slow and sensual, her body moving against him like a wave.

In a breathy voice deep enough to have him throbbing, Sakura asked, "You gonna do something about that issue in your pants, or should I?"

Chan pressed into her harder, silencing her. "Patience, petal." He pressed another kiss to her lips. With one hand holding onto the curve of her hip, the other lowered to the only gap between them.

She gasped. Sakura felt his hand thumb over the front of her underwear, purposefully putting pressure where he knew she needed it. She couldn't help it. A whimper fell from her lips as she bucked into his hand pathetically. She felt him chuckle against her mouth, but he too was tired of the wait. He needed her. He ached. Chan watched as his finger trailed up the skin of her bare thigh before pulling her underwear to the side, exposing her to his eyes. His other hand rushed to loosen the last button and pull himself free of the dark jeans clinging to his legs, letting out a groan at the loss of pressure against his cock. With one last glance, he pushed into her, and watched as the golden eyes he loved so much rolled back. Chan felt his chest clench tightly, all air squeezing out of his lungs. God, she felt incredible around him.

Sakura had her head leaning back against the wall, eyes closed and chest heaving. In her haze, she felt Chan's hand on the back of her neck, pulling her up to meet his lips tenderly. Her body reacted immediately to his kiss, every cell of her being tightening.

Chan watched her eyes open lazily as he pulled away, pressing soft reassuring pecks to the skin of her cheeks and neck, trying to avoid the long forgotten drying paint. His eyes searched hers. "You okay, petal?" His voice was shaky, trying his hardest to focus on her response instead of the way she was pulsing around him. He felt himself relax when she let out a small hum, a green light. Chan wrapped an arm around her waist, using the other to support their weight.

He moved slowly, pulling out until the very tip before plunging back into her. Sakura cried out, clamping a hand over her mouth halfway. So, he did it again. This time her voice was selfishly muffled by the flesh of her palm. Buried deep inside of her warmth, Chan pressed a kiss to the skin just below her ear.

"Let me hear you, Sakura," he demanded as he rocked into her deeper than before.

"Chris," she whimpered. The girl had called him plenty of names before, but they never sounded like this. This was different. Seductive. Raw. It sounded like a deep bass and sex. The way his name dripped from her lips was enough to drive him over the edge.

"That's it, petal. Say my name," he praised, licking his way down her throat with each thrust until he reached the swell of her breasts. Chan sucked on the skin of her chest, relishing on the mew that left her parted lips. “Let them know whose fucking you so good.”

Chan drove into her again, picking up his pace with each passing moment. He couldn’t bring himself to part from her, lips locked onto her sweet skin as they rocked. Another moan was heard from Sakura.

"Just like that."

"Fuck, petal. How am I supposed to control myself when you sound like that?" He whispered. "You sound so pretty when you're moaning my name, so pretty when you're coming around me. You're so good."

Sakura would be lying if she said she wasn't high on his praise, every word going straight to the tightening pressure in her core.

“Fuck, Chris, more. Please, I need more.”

The man obliged happily, grabbing onto her thighs to lift them higher around his waist. The action was rewarded with the sweetest mew, the sound going straight to where they connected. Chan dropped his mouth to her neck, ignoring the paint that would no doubt be smearing on his chin. He placed open-mouthed kisses to her skin, feeling the thrum of her pulse under his tongue as he branded her. The digging of nails into his shoulder blades only edged him on. His teeth dented the tissue that clothed her carotid artery. Sakura rolled up against him, one hand finding the curls at the back of his neck as she pulled him closer. Her sounds were softer now, watered down by her desperation.

“Chan, I’m c-“

“Me too. Wait for me, okay? Can you do that for me, petal? Wait for me.”

Before a sound could leave her mouth, Chan’s lips descended on her own right as his tip hit the deepest part of her, ripping her orgasm from the source. Her scream was muffled, but he could feel how hard she was panting as she rode out her wave. Her legs tightened around his waist, forcing him deeper, and bringing Chan to a peak of his own. He buried his face in her neck, sinking his teeth into the skin as he let go.

Only their synchronized breathing could be heard as they came down from their highs, limbs tangled and eyes closed. They stayed that way for a while, basking in the feeling of one another. Sakura felt a shiver run through her body as he pulled out. She slumped back against the classroom wall, every cell of her being tired. She had barely noticed when Chan walked away. His jeans were loose on his hips, the dark denim still open at the front. When he came back, he smiled. Maybe it was for what just happened. Maybe it was for her. No, it was definitely for her. His eyes said it all. Chan reclaimed his position between her thighs, cupping her face in delicate hands as he kissed her. If she wasn’t already out of breath, she was now. This kiss felt different. It pulled every ounce of air from her lungs. Her very spirit. It burned in her chest. A new warmth spread through her at the feeling of his soft lips moving against hers. He was breathing life back into her. Reviving her. She lived for the feeling.

When he pulled away, Chan leaned his forehead against hers. His breath was faint against her lips, a mere ghost. “You, my petal, are most unique in all the world.” And just like that, everything felt real. More real than it had in the months they had known one another.

Without hesitation, she pulled him back in, putting every word her heart sang into the shared kiss. His reciprocation was immediate; it always was. But before things could go further, Chan felt a pinch in his side. He jumped, immediately seeing the mischievous glint in her eyes and she poked him in the chest. “Never tease me again.”

Before she could get too far, Chan reached out and spun her toward him. He was flustered and, frankly, still turned on. His hand grabbed her neck gently, pulling her back in until their lips were but a breath apart. Her eyes still held an excited shine, focused entirely on him. He loved it.

“You will be my downfall, Sakura,” he whispered against the corner of her mouth.

"Promise?" She whispered back, eyes lit with lust.

A faint gasp drifted from her lips as she felt the hand on her neck tighten slightly, but it was gone after a quick kiss. And so was the hand that held her. She packed her things away swiftly, a dark red hue to her cheeks the entire time.

#angst #bang chan #changbin #comfort #fluff #han jisung #hyunjin #i.n #lee felix #lee know #hwang hyunjin #seo changbin #kim seungmin #seungmin #fanfic #you make stray kids stay #skz stay #stray kids #Spotify

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bravecmatthews · 4 days

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CROSSROADS - A MEMORY

i went down to the crossroads, fell down on my knees asked the lord for mercy, said help me if you please

📍 REDACTED

months had passed, each one dragging on with the weight of duty and the toll of war. cole found himself entrenched in a relentless rhythm – brief moments of chaos punctuated by long stretches of monotony. each day brought new challenges, each night a haunting reminder of the fragility of life. most deployments lasted no longer than seven or nine months, yet they were staring down the eleventh.

he woke up to the same unforgiving landscape every morning, a desolate expanse of dust and rublle that seemed to stretch on endlessly. not until they were on the move did the distant horizon seem to suddenly blur with the haze of uncertainty, air thick with the acrid scent of burning rubber as cole’s convoy rumbled forward. each bump in the road a jarring reminder of the dangers that lurked just beyond the safety of their vehicle.

the sun cast long shadows across the barren landscape and cole's heart raced with a mixture of anticipation and fear as they approached the next checkpoint – a feeling he had become all too familiar with in recent years.

suddenly, the crackle of gunfire pierced the air. instinct kicked in as he navigated the treacherous roads, his hands moving with practiced precision as he scanned the horizon for any signs of danger. and then, in an instant, everything changed.

the deafening roar of an explosion filled the air as shrapnel tore through the metal shell of the humvee. pain seared through cole's body as he was thrown against the dashboard, the world spinning wildly out of control. darkness closed in around him as consciousness slipped away, leaving behind a resounding silence.

📍 HELLTOWN, OHIO

even after all these years, the remnants of a former life lay scattered throughout the car. the ashtray overflowed with loose change and on the passenger seat lay a worn pack of marlboros. a half-empty bottle of gatorade rolled on the floorboard, its contents warm and stale – a relic of a simpler time, when thirst was quenched with reckless abandon.

on the dashboard sat a dirty beavers cap, its brim frayed and faded from years of use, and dog tags hung from the rearview mirror, their metal cool to the touch. this was the same truck he’d been driving since he first learned how to, it burned through gas like crazy but it was as close to an extension of himself as any, why rid himself of something useful.

as he passed the city limit sign, the familiar sights and sounds of home greeted him. despite his best efforts to break free, the magnetic pull of the town had drawn him back once more. it was as if helltown had a hold on him, refusing to let go – a constant reminder that some ties were stronger than others.

dusty roads stretched out before him, each pothole a jarring reminder of the town's decaying infrastructure, when suddenly his gaze caught on a familiar figure standing by the side of the road.

"kayla," he called out, the name feeling foreign on his tongue after so many years. she turned, her eyes widening in recognition as a hesitant smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "cole?" her voice was tinged with disbelief, as if she couldn't quite believe her eyes.

"the one and only," cole replied, his own smile mirroring hers as he leaned out the window. he could think of worse things and people to welcome him back home. “need a ride somewhere?" after all these years he wasn’t sure whether he should ask, but felt that he needed to do something, anything, to soon bridge the gap that had formed between them over the years.

kayla hesitated for a moment before nodding, her expression one of gratitude mixed with a hint of something he couldn’t quite dechipher. "yeah, actually. i'm meeting up with some … friends," she explained, her words hesitant as if she was unsure whether to accept his offer. “could you drop me by the bowling alley?”

"sure, hop in," cole replied, gesturing to the passenger seat beside him. as kayla climbed into the truck, cole couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu wash over him. it was as if no time had passed at all, and yet everything had changed. the years had changed them and molded them all into different people, but the bond once shared lingered in the air.

if he’d known then what would unfold after, would he have said or done something differently?

#▸ M E M O R I E S || braver than you think.

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karltface · 1 year

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Time for another mail-exchange interlude, ladies and germs.

The box portends great things. What sort of fellow orders toys by the case?

The sort who takes requests, actually: we both wanted this guy. The Snizzard (it gets a "The" all through the Wiki, so you know it's serious) apparently menaced the Power Rangers on several occasions (and was initially voiced by Bryan Cranston of all people). But I never watched that show for some reason, so I'm going by what Bogleech tells me: apparently this thing was originally Dora Ladon, based on the serpent that guards the golden apples of the Hesperides. Jealous of the many youthful women on Earth, Bandora (Rita) summoned this horror to suck the youth out of them. It does so with the magical apple crown on its head, which generates parasitic apples on its victims that rapidly age them. You can see why that part was cut.

Anyway, this thing will blend right in on my burgeoning Demons and Things that Look Like Them table. It's like a hundred snakes swarmed together into a humanoid form, and then put on a possessed tsuchinoku costume.

Speaking of, a surprise. I was after a minotaur, any minotaur, and this one didn't disappoint. A quick dark wash will make this pop; this is good, because he's not much of a character. Just a Worf Barrage magnet that served as an early reason to get the Power Weapons into play. He has double-arm swinging action, a sweet shield, and a classic design. I was not expecting Rhinoblaster, who I initially took to be a bat. He's full of sports puns and lives to disrupt football teams. Gotta say, he's lucky he looks so cool.

Another specific pick, the Barracuda! It's not much of a vehicle, with a troop capacity of one, but compensated with a good strong missile launcher and an honest-to-gods baking powder dive mechanism. This one needs a cleaning, and perhaps some sealant on the stickers, but it really does spice up an ocean display.

Critters! Leading the charge is Major Legger Mutton of the Barnyard Commandos BK promotion. Like the rest of this shot, he's actually spare parts, missing the pontoons that folded into a bracelet. Honestly looks better without. There's a few Battle Beasts, all disarmed. I like the chunky rubber spider, and the Boreal Toad is kind of adorable.

Most intriguing are the Toad Air Marshall from Bucky O'Hare, another line I slept on and now feel I need to explore, and that Kronosaur. Looks familiar...

Could've been classic Schleich again; got a species name (in German where applicable), slight marbling in the plastic. But it's ABS, and has no makers' mark or country of origin. Some prominent mold lines, too. Gotta be a knockoff. Nice that they included an average size on the tail, there.

Bits and bobs are a Sectaurs harness (Pinsor, I believe; I've written about him before, but that may have been on Figurerealm....), two Galaxy Warriors shields, Soundwave's rifle, and the Double Duty Mace, an improbable weapon hailing from Tonka's Rock Lords. Well, the weapons are stupid rare, so I guess this is my cue to pick up another childhood favorite.

Yeah.

Rounding out the haul are an early Stephen King movie I actually haven't seen - Time to break out the bingo cards! Or the booze- and an IFC horror that looks like it might not be half bad. That's a couple nights' entertainment already. Also a red drawstring pouch, which will live in the Red Pouches Drawer. Yes, I have two, for light and dark red. Shut up, I can quit when I want to.

Anyhoo, that's another exchange with one of my out-of-state contacts. I guess I mostly do haul breakdowns now. I guess I'll roll with that.

#toys #vintage toys #monsters #mystery box #haul #power rangers

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cassieuncaged · 1 year

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Ship Songs

List 5-10 songs that relate to your OTP

Tagged by @roofgeese and @aceghosts.

No pressure tags: @emotionalcadaver, @emilynightshade89, @areyenotfondofmelobster, @poisonedtruth, @confidentandgood, @unholymilf, @voidika @captastra and anyone I might have missed

OTP: Dog Tags and Flower Crowns - Maggie x Elias

I'd Have You Anytime - George Harrison

All I have is yours All you see is mine And I'm glad to hold you in my arms I'd have you anytime

Strange Powers - Magnetic Fields

The Sun falls down like honey The Moon pours down like mercury The stars fall down like money And you come back to me And I can't sleep 'Cause you got strange powers You're in my dreams Strange powers And I can't sleep 'Cause you got strange powers You're in my dreams Strange powers

Our House - Crosby, Stills, and Nash

I'll light the fire, while you place the flowers In the vase that you bought today. Staring at the fire for hours and hours, While I listen to you play your love songs All night long for me, only for me. Come to me now, and rest your head for just five minutes, Everything is done. Such a cozy room, the windows are illuminated By the evening sunshine through them, Fiery gems for you, only for you.

Moonlight Mile - The Rolling Stones

Oh, I'm sleeping under strange, strange skies Just another mad, mad day on the road My dreams is fading down the railway line I'm just about a moonlight mile down the road, yeah, yeah

I'm hiding, sister and I'm dreaming I'm riding down your moonlight mile I'm hiding, baby and I'm dreaming I'm riding down your moonlight mile I'm riding down your moonlight mile

He's My Baby - Noire

He's my baby Ain't it something I'm a mess all for you Walking home, just to hear you say "Hey baby how's your day?"

Don't go changing, I will believe in you Don't know if you'd stay, it's all good if you do

OTP: Dancing in the Flames - Wren x Rick

Chinatown - Bleachers

But a girl like you Could rip me out of my head Black tears on your cheek I want them in my bed I'll take you out of the city Honey, right into the shadow 'Cause I wanna find tomorrow Yeah, I wanna find tomorrow

Self Control - Laura Branigan

Oh, the night is my world City light painted girl In the day nothing matters It's the night time that flatters

In the night, no control Through the wall something's breaking Wearing white as you're walkin' Down the street of my soul

Only You - Yazoo

This is going to take a long time And I wonder what's mine Can't take no more Wonder if you'll understand It's just the touch of your hand Behind a closed door

So Alive - Love and Rockets

I don't know what color your eyes are, baby But your hair is long and brown Your legs are strong, and you're so, so long And you don't come from this town

My head is full of magic, baby And I can't share this with you The feel I'm on a cross again, lately But there's nothing to do with you

I'm on Fire - Bruce Springsteen

Sometimes it's like someone took a knife, baby Edgy and dull and cut a six inch valley Through the middle of my skull

At night I wake up with the sheets soaking wet And a freight train running through the middle of my head Only you can cool my desire

OTP: Bullets, Bombs and Baggage - Reggie x John

John Wayne - Lady Gaga

3 a.m., Mustang speedin' Two lovers, headed for a dead end Too fast, hold tight, he laughs Runnin' through the red lights Hollerin' over, rubber spinnin' Big swig, toss another beer can Too lit, tonight, prayin' on the moonlight

Every John is just the same I'm sick of their city games I crave a real wild man I'm strung out on John Wayne

Disorder - Joy Division

What means to you, what means to me And we will meet again I'm watching you, I'm watching Oh I'll take no pity from your friends Who is right? Who can tell? And who gives a damn right now? Until the spirit new sensation takes hold Then you know Until the spirit new sensation takes hold Then you know Until the spirit new sensation takes hold Then you know

I Can Change - LCD Sound System

Oh, this is the time, the very best time So give me a line and take me home Take me over But dashing the hopes, dashing the hopes And smashing the pride The morning's got you on the ropes, oh

Cigarette Daydreams - Cage the Elephant

Did you stand there all alone? Oh, I cannot explain what's goin' down I can see you standin' next to me In and out somewhere else right now You sigh, look away I can see it clear as day Close your eyes, so afraid Hide behind that baby face

Heavenly - Cigarettes After Sex

Needing you now to come into me Feeling it slow, over this dream Touch me with a kiss, feel me on your lips

When you're above feeling it still Tell me it's love, tell me it's real Touch me with a kiss, touch me with a kiss

#ship songs #long post #otp: dog tags and flower crowns #otp: dancing in the flames #otp: bullets bombs and baggage

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mpcomagnetics · 21 days

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Introduce Exploration of Rubber Magnets

Introduce Exploration of Rubber Magnets Rubber magnets, also known as flexible magnets, are a type of magnetic material made from a mixture of ferrite powder and rubber (usually a polymer such as polyvinyl chloride or polyurethane). They are characterized by their flexibility, which allows them to be easily bent, twisted, and cut into various shapes without losing their magnetic properties.…

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#Adhesive magnets #buy magnets #China magnets #flexible magnets #Flexible Rubber Magnets #fridge magnets #Inkjet magnet #magnet purchasing #magnetic car signs #plain magnets #Rolled Rubber Magnets #rubber magnets #vinyl flexible magnet #vinyl magnetic sheeting

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giuliadrawsstuff · 2 years

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Ain’t No Mountain High Enough

Drawing and song drabble for @elmundodeflor

I combined our two tweets into one, hope you like them. Thank you for being an inspiration.

I’ve decided my drabble Modern AU Hange has tattooed sleeves inked with Titans, cause I love tattoos too much.

Also Erwin is a musical fan cause I am and I HAD to add some musical songs to the repertoir.

Slight Mobwin in sight too hehe @littlelasagne I’m looking at you hahah

Listen, baby, ain't no mountain high

Ain't no valley low, ain't no river wide enough, baby

If you need me, call me, no matter where you are

No matter how far, don't worry, baby

Just call my name, I'll be there in a hurry

You don't have to worry

'Cause baby, there ain't no mountain high enough

Ain't no valley low enough, ain't no river wide enough

To keep me from getting to you, baby

The lyrics rolled on their lips like they were the most natural thing in the world.

Levi hated karaoke, he hated his voice, he hated the attention. Yet, somehow, when he was with Hange he always ended up doing it. No matter which song it was, he always had fun with them. They had a magnetic field around them that attracted him so strongly he was unable to say no to them. And he loved their voice so damn much (and the puppy eyes when they begged him to sing with them) that he always complied.

The first time it was Don't Stop Me Now at Miche and Nana's wedding. Levi had been sitting lonely on a table, legs dangling from its edge. He didn't dance, he couldn't. His legs froze each time he tried or wanted to. But then Queen's song started booming and Hange came had come rushing to him. They had pulled him into the crowd to sing with them and he had just melted into it, voice and body moving in sync with Hange's as if they were a whole.

After the wedding it was Hooked on a Feeling in Levi's car while he was driving them home. And from that moment on every car ride was like a karaoke, they turned on the music and started singing together, voices higher than the singer's, mimicking the lyrics.

That's when everything changed.

From cars they extended their singing to house cleaning, one of Levi's favourite past times. Hange was always the lazy one when it came to house chores, but Levi soon discovered that singing helped them being productive, so any excuse was good enough to make them sing in order to clean their house or his together.

Any tool was useful as a microphone, be it the broom, the cleaning detergent's bottle or the mop. They'd swirl together around the house singing like crazies. When using the vacuum cleaner they'd swing their hips in tune to I Want to Break Free, taking turns with it, the other laughing their guts out at the scene.

They found out one of the pubs near their houses held a karaoke night once a week, so upon Hange's insistence they attended every once in a while, often joined by Erwin, Miche, Nanaba, Moblit and the others.

They'd all sing in turn, on their own or in couples. Moblit drunkenly sang Total Eclipse of the Heart each time they went, ending up crying like a baby at the lyrics. Erwin would hand him a whole packet of handkerchiefs and he'd blow his nose in them sobbing until the next singer came on stage. Miche and Nana sang A Whole New World dueting every Disney song they knew by heart and finishing it with a passionate kiss to seal the happy ending.

They both would sing with Hange too, Miche songs like Hakuna Matata or Rubber Biscuit, Nanaba sharing the lyrics of I'll Make a Man Out of You or I Need a Hero.

Erwin would often join on stage in choruses when needed, all the while singing from his spot at the table, uselessly trying to involve Levi. He went for songs like Aquarius or Greased Lightning, the latter dueting with Moblit. He had a not so secret thing for musicals and he had spread it around all of them, irreparably infecting them with that passion.

On his part, Levi sulked in a corner, arms crossed over his chest, scowl always in place. Each time Erwin or Miche tried to make him engage he'd grumble an angry no, almost biting their fingers off if they insisted too much.

He fucking hated that loud place, he hated the voices singing out of tune, he hated his voice. That's why he didn't like to sing in public. Yet each time Hange asked him to join them on stage he said yes. He just couldn't say no to them. If he tried, their hazel eyes would widen, lower lip slightly trembling and an annoying "pleeeeeeaaaaase" would come out of their mouth, until he accepted with a theatrical groan. Hange always answered with a happy squeak hugging him tightly and sometimes kissing him on the cheek.

Maybe that was why he couldn't resist them. Their puppy eyes, their laugh, their cries of joy, their arms around him, the way they grabbed him when they sang together at home, their hand in his when they walked in town, their ice cream stained face when they licked it with too much greediness, their enthusiasm when talking about their job or the last movie they watched. The list was endless. And it was only growing longer by the day.

That night the pub was only theirs.

Erwin had rented the room to celebrate his birthday and he had requested karaoke as a fundamental requirement. Purple and blue lights darted on the stage as Hange and Miche sang Dancing with myself, Crocodile Rock and Don't You Forget About Me.

Petra, Oluo, Nifa and the others danced in a corner, singing together.

Then it was Moblit's turn with Heartbreak Hotel (Erwin providing him tissues once more when he slipped off stage drunkenly wobbling his way to the table) and again Hange with Nana, singing I Won't Say I'm in Love, Miche and Erwin behind them doing the Muses' chorus.

This time, Miche and Nana dueted with Don't Go Breaking My Heart.

Off stage, Hange fixed themselves a drink and brought one to Levi too. They sat on his lap cooing at how adorable Miche and Nana were together. They clinked their glasses together, then each took a sip of their gin tonic. As the duet ended Hange jumped off of his legs and darted to Miche's side to sing Crazy Little Thing Called Love.

Damn, they didn't get a moment's rest. And paired with Miche they were unstoppable. One arm slunged over his shoulder, shouting the songs.

He felt a pang of jealousy at all the times Miche got to sing with Hange instead of him. He did sing with them every day while cleaning or in the car but somehow it wasn't the same as sharing a stage. Again, he hated the attention, but he'd do anything to stay a bit more with Hange, to make them laugh that way. Even karaoke.

As if they'd heard his thoughts, Hange ran to him once again. "Leviiiiiiiiiiii" and he knew his moment had arrived. He feigned indifference at their cry, let them approach and sit again on his lap. They circled his neck with their arms, pleading for him to sing with them and Miche let out an amused snicker.

"C'mon Levi it's our turn, you can't stay here scowling all night, it's Erwin's birthday you can't refuse. Erwin and Miche chose our song. Plus you have the most beautiful voice, it's a shame not use it. Pleeeeeeaaaaase."

He turned Hange down a couple of times but then they fished out that damn pout he liked so much and he gave up, letting them take his hand and drag him up on stage.

As soon as the music began he regretted it. This fucking song. He should have known. He never should have let Miche or Erwin choose. Those morons. They knew. He didn't know how, but they knew. And they took pleasure in torturing him. Making fun of him. Fuck them. He'd give them what they wanted, he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of refusing.

They started singing together, even though it was a duet they both liked singing everything as one, they'd always done that with every song.

Remember the day I set you free

I told you, you could always count on me, girl

And from that day on I made a vow

I'll be there when you want me some way, some how

'Cause baby, there ain't no mountain high enough

Ain't no valley low enough, ain't no river wide enough

To keep me from getting to you, baby

As soon as they picked up the pace everything changed. It was just the two of them, singing. The others disappeared, the stage, the pub, everything. It was just him and Hange and their voices singing together as one.

Oh no darling, no wind, no rain

Or winters cold can stop me baby

No, no baby, 'cause you are my love

If you ever in trouble, I'll be there on the double

Just send for me, oh baby

They both started dancing too, leaning into eachother, intertwining their free hands together, looking into eachother's eyes. Hange smiled the widest smile ever and it seemed to get wider with each word, he could see their eyes beaming. They were happy, they were having fun and he was a part of it. In fact, he was one of the causes. And he couldn't be more pleased about it.

My love is alive, way down in my heart

Although we are miles apart

If you ever need a helping hand

I'll be there on the double just as fast as I can

Suddenly he realised how close they were to eachother. Their faces were inches from one another, noses almost touching. He could smell the gin tonic in their breath. And as it always happened with Hange, the things that usually disgusted him (like the sticky smell of alcohol breath), didn't. He felt his face grow hot, in fact he was probably purple at the moment.

Reality slammed back on him, he could hear Miche and Erwin snickering loudly from one of the tables, and Nanaba slapping Miche on the back telling him to let them be, a soft knowing smile on their lips.

Face burning, he turned his attention back to Hange, they were still looking at him, a nice bright pink spreading on their cheeks too. He wondered if it was the gin tonic's work or the singing. He was pretty sure his wasn't. And the blush didn't seem to want to go away, no matter how much he tried. Instead he kept turning redder, blush soon reaching his ears.

Don't you know that there ain't no mountain high enough

Ain't no valley low enough, ain't no river wide enough

To keep me from getting to you, baby

This fucking song was going on forever. And the funny thing was that he didn't want it to end. He wished they could just keep singing, even if it meant staying pepper red forever.

Hange swirled away from him, pirouetting on the stage. Their tie flapped around them, rolled up sleeves showed the Titan tattoos inked on their arms. Their hair was still in the usual half ponytail but was getting looser with each song, sticking in every direction. Their glasses kept slipping down their hooked nose, often fogging up because of their rising body heat.

They were a fucking mess.

And they were fucking handsome.

Don't you know that there ain't no mountain high enough

Ain't no valley low enough, ain't no river wide enough

Ain't no mountain high enough, ain't no valley low enough

With the final verse they took his hand again and pulled him towards them, embracing him.

His arms naturally curled themselves around their neck, his face once again brushing theirs. He could feel his cheeks and ears on fire, burning with a nice tomato red tint.

His heart was threatening to burst out of his chest.

He could hear Hange's heartbeat too, pounding against him, their hot breath tickling him.

He glanced up at Hange and that was it.

His lips crashed onto theirs, he grabbed their ponytail to pull them closer, throwing the microphone away and hugging their neck tightly.

After a split second of pure surprise, Hange answered his hungry kiss, hands fumbling at his hair. Their microphone fell to the floor too and they embraced his neck, scraping at his undercut.

A loud cheer came up from the audience. Miche and Erwin shouted a super loud "Go for it", Nanaba screamed an "About time you two", while Moblit gaped at them. The rest of the guys whistled repeatedly their approval.

When they finally parted, they were both scarlet red, panting.

#my art #levihan #attack on titan #karaoke #drabble #levi ackerman #hange zoe

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only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are · 2 years

Text

Touch Starved - Operation Valkyrie (Part 4)

MASTERLIST - PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3

I'm so sorry for the long pause in posting, I've experienced two deaths in the last few weeks and felt really low. Finally got back my motivation to post, as I have plenty of writing to share. This is dedicated to those two people who passed away in my life, for supporting my passions and interests.

CWs: female whumpee (not sexual), female whumper, dehumanisation, syringes/needles, human experimentation, noncon drugging, touch starved whumpee, hopelessness, IV bag, central venous line

Valkyrie awoke and lifted her head, only to experience an intense throbbing from behind her temples. A groan escaped her, and she rolled over and slipped off the bed, rolling over onto her stomach to press her aching forehead to the cool floor. She hissed at the sudden sensation of the cold surface, but quickly released a sigh of relief as the pang of the headache began to ease. She took slow, deep breaths through her nose. The creak of the cell door startled her, but she didn’t respond, even as she heard footsteps clomp ever closer to her. When gloved hands grasped her biceps and tried to lift her to her feet, she finally reacted, crying out in protest and attempting to wrench her arms away.

“Stop!” She whimpered.

The guards didn’t answer her. They pulled her out of the room, dragging her down the now-familiar, winding white halls. She didn’t stop thrashing as they brought her in front of a room labelled with a panel on the door as ‘Experimentation Laboratory 23’.

:readmore

The guards punched in a series of numbers onto the keypad and the door swung open. Inside the room, a series of cabinets and shelves lined the walls, the counters and other surfaces were covered in vials and instruments. In the centre of the room sat a familiar metal table with a lamp overhead. Several doctors stood around the table, with Doctor Clarke in their midst. The bright whites of their doctors’ coats and the stark cleanliness of the room were piercing to Valkyrie’s eyes and made her head ache more intensely. The guards, not caring for her sensitivity to the environment, marched her to the table and pinned her down so that Doctor Clarke could press the button on the remote which triggered the magnetism in Valkyrie’s handcuffs and ankle cuffs, and once she was remotely attached to the table and immobile, the guards stepped back.

Doctor Clarke smirked as she observed Val’s stiff position and irritated expression. “You can’t fight us. You can’t stop us, no matter what you do. But I won’t give you a lecture - you’ll learn for yourself soon enough.”

Valkyrie gritted her teeth in anger. “You can’t just do this to me! I’m a human BEING!” She roared, as tears began to spill down her cheeks. “Please, I.. please, just let me go!” Her voice had dropped to a pathetic whimper with this final sentence.

“I can’t do that.” Doctor Clarke said, her features void of pity.

A white-clad doctor passed Doctor Clarke a pair of nitrile gloves. She slipped them on and accepted a syringe and a small vial, which she used to draw a quantity of the contents of the vial into the syringe.

“What is that?” Valkyrie asked in a tiny voice, straining her neck against the restraints in order to see better.

A gloved hand clamped her neck, pressed it back down onto the table and tightened the strap around her neck. Val let out a frightened growl, like that of a wounded animal.

Another pair of gloved hands tied a rubber tourniquet tightly around her upper arm, and fingers prodded the skin, making the veins more prominent. A small alcohol swab was wiped across her pale skin. Valkyrie watched, wide-eyed as Doctor Clarke put down the vial and lined the syringe up with a vein in Valkyrie’s arm, then slid the needle into it and pressed down on the plunger.

“There.” Doctor Clarke murmured as she withdrew the syringe and wiped up the trickle of blood that had pooled in the crook of Valkyrie’s elbow. “Prepare the equipment, and then we can begin the observational period.”

The doctors standing above her began equipping her with a heart monitor, pulse oximeter and blood pressure cuff. Then one of them pushed a metal tray closer to the table, from which he picked up several tubes in his gloved hands. He passed them to Doctor Clarke.

Valkyrie paled. What are those for?

She soon found out.

Doctor Clarke began attaching the tubes to the device in Valkyrie’s neck. Each one seemed to connect at a different spot to the object, and from there each one was connected to a different lumen, as Doctor Clarke called them. Valkyrie’s body was tense as she watched the tubes being attached to different IV bags.

Doctor Clarke removed her gloves and straightened up. “Of course, we have noted how averse to being touched you have been. With some time, this serum should make you crave any touch. Perfectly useful for pets who have been resistant to owners who wish to receive affection. You’re going to be monitored by cameras,” she pointed up to a small camera in the corner of the room, “and at regular intervals, someone will be sent in to touch you and observe your reaction.”

Doctor Clarke turned on her heel and left the room, followed by the group of white coats, and the door shut behind them. Valkyrie looked around the room, assessing her present situation. She was alone, but observed, and still restrained to the table. There were sharp metal tools, but they were out of reach. She knew it was no use, but she tried struggling against her bonds anyway. She soon got tired of that and instead turned her attention to rattling the table, It was sturdy, but maybe she could somehow dislodge the restraints that way. When that proved to be useless, she resorted to staring angrily at the door, as if that would somehow magically make it open and get her to safety.

Spoiler alert. It did not.

She didn’t struggle anymore. She knew by now it was useless, and she finally accepted that. Besides, she was so, so exhausted from fighting them. Perhaps this was all just a bad dream. She would wake up, she just had to fall asleep here in order to do so. She let her limbs go limp and took a few deep breaths, listening to her heart beat slower and slower on the heart monitor. She felt herself slipping away, felt the loss of her home and her friends and her freedom and her LIFE crashing over her in a massive wave of hopeless and then, there was silent. She felt cold. She just wanted someone to be friendly. She sank against the restraints and fell still. She was staring up at the ceiling in silence when she heard someone returning to the room. Her head slowly lolled to the side and she gazed over at the doorway. It was a tall figure with dark brown hair, deeply wrinkled skin, small, wire-framed glasses and a white lab coat with a pen in the pocket. She knew this man- he was one of the doctors that had been beside Doctor Clarke earlier. Valkyrie didn’t protest as the scientist stepped closer to her on the table. The man raised his hand, and slowly placed it on her shoulder. She flinched, but didn’t protest when she realised he was only touching her to gauge her response, and not to hurt her. Her reaction suprised even herself, deep down. She wasn’t entirely sure why her body and heart weren’t reacting the way her heart knew she wanted them to. She didn’t move as he lifted his hand away, either. She couldn’t seem to find it in her to fight being touched any longer. He left her in silence. Val felt there was something inside of her that was missing the minute the scientist left the room, and she wasn’t quite sure why. She was left to stare at the cieling once more until sometime later, when she received her next guest. This time, Doctor Clarke was the one who stepped through the door into the room.

“Hello, 0492. How are you feeling?” She asked.

Valkyrie found her mouth opening to reply before she could stop herself. “A little.. Out of sorts, I guess.”

Doctor Clarke pursed her lips. “Hmm, that’s an expected effect of the serum.”

She bent down over Valkyrie, and gently placed a hand in her hair. Deep down, Valkyrie knew she did not want the touch, but she couldn’t bring herself to fight it. The longer the doctor kept her hand there, the more Valkyrie found she enjoyed it, and the more that resistant voice in her head grew quiet.

“How does that feel?” Clarke inquired.

“Nice.” Valkyrie whispered.

Immediately, Doctor Clarke withdrew her hand. Valkyrie whimpered softly. The Doctor brought her hand back, and once again withdrew it quickly. Valkyrie found herself craving the touch immensely. Doctor Clarke brought her hand back once more, and slowly carded it through Valkyrie’s hair. Valkyrie sighed softly, and relaxed into the touch. Carefully and slowly, Clarke removed the restraints off of Valkyrie, and wrapped her arms around the subject, holding her in place with her embrace. Tears began to trickle from the corners of Valkyrie’s eyes. She found herself torn in two, and the half that wanted freedom was quickly losing control. It made her frightened, and confused at the same time.

“Shh, sh..” Doctor Clarke murmured.

She began to grip tighter and tighter, and tears flowed freely from Valkyrie’s eyes. Valkyrie knew in that instant, she could fight all she wanted, and nothing she did would make a difference. And from then on, everything was different.

~~~

PART 5

Taglist:

@whumppsychology @inky-whump @whumpnoire

#whump community #whumpblr #lab whump #noncon drugging #medical whump #noncon drugging whump #touch starved whumpee #female whumper #female whumpee #dehumanisation whump #needles tw #whump drabble #lab rat whump #whump fics #operation valkyrie #iv drip whump #iv bag #central venous line

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