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lysenfeu · 10 months

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It's His Birthday

It's His Birthday

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 5.7k

Pairing: Adrian Chase x F!Reader

Summary: The 11th Street kids take Adrian out to celebrate for his birthday and try to set him up with the cute bartender.

Content: Alcohol Use, Flirting, Fluff, Smut (Slight Dub-con/Drunk Sex, Sex with Strangers, Facesitting, 69 Position, PIV, Safe Sex)

[Read on AO3]

A/N: This is a silly little smutty one-shot to celebrate Adrian's birthday (or belated cuz this is technically late whoops). I've written mostly mask-stays-on Vig so far, so I thought it would be fun to try and write a cute birthday boy Adrian piece with a civilian!reader. Best boy deserves some fluff and spice!

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Another evening, another evening shift. You sighed as you wiped down the countertop in the dive bar you were currently working in.

Three months ago you threw a dart at a map (okay, a GPS pin drop on your phone but whatever). You ended up dragging your tired and burnt-out self far away from your shitty hometown to Evergreen, Washington for a fresh start. Unfortunately, so far Evergreen was just as shitty as your hometown, albeit with a different landscape view.

You got the first job that accepted your application and now worked at a mediocre at best local bar downtown. It paid enough to live and your new apartment was nearby. You weren't sure how you felt about Evergreen yet but at least it was different.

"Hey, can we open up a tab?"

You snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of a customer and looked up at the impossibly large man in front of you. He looked like a marine and you wondered if there was a military base nearby. You shot him your best customer-service smile.

"Sure, I just need some ID and your card."

The man pulled out his wallet and handed over his license and credit card with the name Christopher Smith. You jotted down his info and handed it back.

"There you go, Chris. What can I get for you?"

"Five beers for the table." He gestured behind him at a booth across the room with four other people sitting down.

"And hey, can you make something special for my buddy?" He pointed out a brunette man with silver-rimmed glasses. "It's his birthday."

You nodded, this happened all the time with people out to celebrate.

"Sure. Does he like pineapple?"

Chris gave you a blank look. "I have no idea."

You filled a tall glass with ice, then poured in vodka, blue curaçao and pineapple juice. Grabbing a slice of pineapple chunk from the garnish bar, you hung it just right on the side of the glass then spun around, tossed a straw in and presented the bright-coloured drink.

"There you go! I hope he likes it."

Chris squinted at the teal cocktail and snorted before picking up the tray.

"He's gonna love it, thanks."

You watched carefully as the large man carried the tray over to the booth and dished out the drinks. He slid the cocktail in front of the cute guy with glasses and then pointed at you. The brunette glanced over at you, then took a sip and looked back up. He gave you a giant dopey grin and a double thumbs up. You returned his smile with a real one, genuinely thrilled he seemed to enjoy your choice.

You watched the group for a little while, there wasn't much else going on in the bar. A few regulars playing pool, what looked like a terrible date in the back corner and the full booth you were staring at were the only patrons tonight.

The group you were watching was new here, at least you didn't recognize them from the few months you'd been working the evening shift. You wondered how they knew each other, daydreaming about customers was a way to pass the time on slow nights like this. You watched them laugh and drink until another customer called your attention and you were forced to spend some time actually doing your job.

When you made your way back across the bar, Chris was leaning on the bar. You put down the empty glass in your hands and addressed him.

"Another round of beers for you guys?"

He nodded at you. "Yeah, thanks." He waited impatiently for you to open them and place them on the tray. "Also I should tell you my friend-" he jerked his head back at the guy with glasses sitting at the booth behind him. "-thinks you're really cute."

You raise an eyebrow at him. "Oh really?"

Chris nodded.

"Well if that's true, he can come tell me himself." You slid the tray towards him and then spun off to the other end of the bar where a patron was flagging you down.

You watched out of the corner of your eye as Chris went back to the booth and handed out the beers before whispering to the cute guy in glasses. The brunette flushed and started arguing with the larger man.

You quickly glanced away when they both turned to look at you and you focused intently on pulling the pint another patron had just ordered instead. Sliding the now-full glass across the bar to the customer, you wiped your hands with a cloth and walked back over to the register to ring it up.

"Hi."

You looked up and the dark-haired guy in glasses was standing right in front of you.

"Hi."

He gave you a little wave and an awkward, crooked smile. "I'm Adrian."

You couldn't help but giggle a bit at how nervous he seemed.

"Hi, Adrian. How'd you like your drink, birthday boy?"

A light blush formed on his cheeks as you grinned at him. He really was cute, especially when he was being so shy.

"Um, it was really good. Could I get another like that?"

You nodded and turned around to grab the ingredients. When you turned back around, Adrian was leaning on the bar watching you intently. You mixed the drink and handed it over to him. He took a big sip from the drink, smiled and fidgeted with the straw while he stared at you for a moment.

"Is that all? Or is there something else you want to say?" You gave him a small wink and a cheeky smile.

The blush returned to his cheeks, a deeper red than before. He coughed awkwardly and fidgeted more, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck.

"I…um."

He couldn't make eye contact as he blurted it out as fast as possible. "I think you're really pretty."

You leaned on the bar, propping yourself up on your elbows as you tilted your face closer to him.

"What a coincidence, I think you're really pretty too."

You were doing your best impression of a Cheshire cat, grinning madly at how flustered he was. He was still staring at you with wide eyes and it looked like he was about to say something but the magic of the moment was unfortunately shattered by Chris and one of his friends suddenly approaching the bar.

"Can I get a round of shots? Whiskey."

You nodded and walked back to the bar to pour the shots for him. Adrian looked a little miffed at his friends and you bit back another smile, hoping he would talk to you again later.

You quickly finished pouring the drinks and handed over the five shots on a tray and Chris grabbed it from you.

"Thanks, sweet-cheeks."

The woman next to Chris immediately scolded him. "We've been over this. That is not an okay thing to say!"

He turned towards you with a defensive look. "Can you settle this for us? It's totally about having a nice smile!"

"No, no. She's definitely right," You nodded at the woman in agreement. "That phrase is definitely about saying someone has a nice butt."

"I mean, either way, he's not wrong." Adrian gulped and ducked down to stare into his drink as all three of you whipped around to look at him.

"What was that, buddy?" Chris was looking at him in astonishment.

"Nothing." Adrian shook his head and all but ran back to their booth holding his cocktail, avoiding everyone's eye.

"Sorry about him." The woman apologised to you.

"I don't mind." You shrugged at her. "I think he's sweet."

Chris was giving you an incredulous look. "Him?"

"Yeah, him."

You were given a quick look of resignation by both of them before he walked back to the booth with their drinks.

You tried to keep an eye on the group, especially the adorable one, but a few more regulars came in and you were swept away to serve them. The evening progressed in a flash with back-to-back orders from the new tables. You were finally back at the register when a voice sounded out.

"Hey!"

You looked up and there he was again, the cutie in glasses. You couldn't help but smile.

"Hey, Adrian! What can I get for you?"

He gave you a goofy smile when he heard you say his name. "Another round of shots please?"

"Sure thing!" You made a big show of pouring the shots from high up without splashing and Adrian gave you an appropriately awed look at your bartending skills.

"So hey, maybe we could-" He was cut off by Chris interrupting again, he had stomped over to grab the tray of shots from the counter.

"I said I got it!" Adrian protested.

"You were taking too long." Chris snapped at his friend.

"I was trying to ask her to join us."

"She can't drink with us, dumbass. She's working."

Adrian turned towards you. "Is that true?"

You shrugged apologetically. "Yeah, he's right. It's policy."

His face fell. "Aw, man. That sucks."

As if on cue, your manager walked out from the back and came over to you.

"Hey if you wanna take off in fifteen or so, that's fine. It's a little slow tonight, I can handle close by myself."

You nodded, any excuse to take off early was a good one. Especially such a conveniently timed one.

Adrian perked up at the news. "Wait, you're almost done with your shift?"

"Yeah, I guess I get off early tonight. Lucky me!"

"Does that mean you can drink with me?"

"What about your friends?" You gestured towards the booth where the rest of his group was gathering their things.

"They want to leave soon, but I'll stay if I can buy you a drink." He looked at you with big pleading eyes and you noted how bright and green they were.

You thought about it for a moment. You usually never drank with customers but… maybe a one-time exception wouldn't be too bad? Spending the rest of the evening drinking with a nice stranger who thought you were pretty could be worse.

"Sure, why not?" You smiled at him and winked. "It is your birthday after all."

You finished cleaning up and clocked out. Adrian was waiting for you as you walked out from the back without your apron. His friends were in the process of closing out the tab with your manager and the booth they had been in was mostly empty, save for two shots waiting for you.

You slid onto the cushioned seat and watched as Adrian said goodbye to the others. Chris clapped him on the shoulder and said something low in his ear that made Adrian whip his head up and look at you with an expression you couldn't quite read.

Your attention was pulled away from the interaction as your manager walked over and placed several candy colour shots and two bright teal cocktails down in front of you.

"Uh, thanks?"

The older woman rolled her eyes. "They're from the big guy that's just leaving. Said something about celebrating properly with something sweet?" She gave you a pointed look and walked off as Adrian came back over.

"What are these?"

You shrugged. "Apparently I have some catching up to do."

The next hour or two passed in a blur after you'd downed the shots and were working on the cocktails in order to catch up with Adrian, who had been drinking all night. The conversation got loud, with the two of you ending up arguing passionately about Star Wars, much to the annoyance of the few other patrons nearby. By the time the bar closed, you had definitely caught up and Adrian had sobered up a bit, leaving the both of you still rather tipsy. Your manager shuffled the two of you to the curb and warned you to get home safely.

"Did you have a good night?"

He grinned at you. "I had a great night."

You grinned back, warm and fuzzy from the alcohol.

"So… I'm just headed that way." You pointed in the general direction of your apartment.

He nodded at you but didn't make any movements. You're not exactly sure that you wanted a strange guy to follow you home but you were still slightly disappointed at his lack of response.

You headed down the street you had pointed towards and got about a block away before you realized Adrian was hot on your heels.

"Do you…also live this way?"

He shook his head. "Not at all, but there's no way I'm letting you walk home alone while drunk."

"What? Why not?"

He frowned at you. "You need someone to protect you, it's kind of dangerous for women out here."

"Oh, so I can't protect myself? Just because I'm a girl?" You stopped in your tracks and put your hands on your hips in annoyance, wobbling a little on the sidewalk. Your indignance at his insinuation briefly overshadowed the fact that you kind of wanted him to come home with you.

"Yes? I mean, no! …Kind of? Wait, is that sexist? Fuck." He was scrambling to explain himself and failing miserably.

"You're just as drunk as me, what help are you gonna be?" You poked him in the chest to emphasise your point.

"Okay maybe, but I can still ki-" He cut himself off suddenly and shook his head. "Look, there's safety in numbers! I'm walking with you, end of story." He grabbed your hand that was still poking at him and tugged you further along the path behind him.

"Fine, but you don't even know where you're going!"

"Oh. Right." He sighed, stopped and dropped your hand, looking back at you. "Which way?"

You rolled your eyes but grabbed his hand again and directed him towards a side street in the opposite direction he had been headed.

"Just down here. It's not far so you don't have to waste too much of your time."

"It's not a waste if I'm spending it with you." He muttered, looking everywhere but directly at you.

It was your turn to blush, taken aback by his unexpectedly sweet words. You kept a firm grip on his hand as you approached your apartment building.

You were just nearing the building door when you tripped on an uneven chunk of sidewalk and suddenly you were headed straight for the ground.

You braced yourself for an impact that… never came. Instead, a pair of strong arms shot out, wrapped around your waist and pulled you backwards. Rather than hitting the cold cement, you were now pressed against a very warm and solid chest. You had no idea how but Adrian had managed to save you from a brutal face plant.

You spun around to face him in shock. He loosened his grip to allow you to move but didn't let you out of his arms as he stared down at you with concern etched onto his face.

"Holy shit, are you okay?"

"You caught me." You stared up at him as he held you tight. Have his eyes been this green all night?

"Yeah, of course I did." His nonchalant tone made you giggle again. Of course , he did. You were still staring up at him and he was getting more concerned.

"Are you sure you're okay? You're breathing really heavy."

"Just…don't move." Your voice was low and soft, you were entirely distracted by how shiny his lips looked in the streetlight.

You found yourself leaning in close without even meaning to, swayed by the warmth in your veins flooding from his hands around you. Your hand slipped behind his neck as you rose on your tiptoes, slowly invading his space and getting unbearably close to his face.

You could feel his breath on your face, tinged with the pineapple cocktails he'd been drinking all night. The sweet scent wasn't helping your impulse control and you were so close to those soft, pink lips…

Your eyes flicked up to his, finding those bright green spots behind his silver frames. He caught your gaze and you saw something flash across his eyes. His grip on your arms tightened as his breathing stuttered and he finally closed the gap between you.

He tasted like pineapple with a faint hint of whiskey, a combination you thoroughly enjoyed. A warmth spread through your lips and into your very bones as he pressed into you until you both broke away panting for air.

"Hey, Adrian?" You murmured, still trying to catch your breath from the kiss.

"Yeah?"

"Would…you like to come upstairs?"

He paused for a moment, glancing over at the apartment complex door then down at you, still being held tight in his arms.

"Do you want me to come upstairs?"

You giggled again. You couldn't help it, he was so silly. "Yes, that's why I'm asking."

He swallowed hard and you watched his Adam's apple bob up and down. With your lowered inhibitions and rising temperature, you gave in to temptation and leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his throat. He inhaled sharply, instinctively tugging you closer to him.

"Okay, yeah. Upstairs. We should do that." His breath was shaky as his hands slid down your back to rest on your waist. The warmth from his touch spread through your body and you smiled up at him.

You stepped into the lobby, made your way to the elevators and waited for the doors to open. You hit the number for your floor as Adrian stepped in behind you. When the doors closed, he spun towards you and reached up a hand to gently cup your jaw, before pulling you in for another kiss. You sighed against his lips and wrapped your arms around his neck to bring him in closer. You let out a small moan as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth, slowly getting lost in the kiss and forgetting where you were.

He braced his free hand on the wall beside you and pushed you slowly against it, pressing his entire body into you. You relished in the warmth and didn't want to let him go. He slid his hand from your jaw down to your neck and was reaching under the strap of your top when the elevator doors loudly dinged open.

You squeaked, suddenly very aware of the compromising position you were in. You quickly disentangled yourself from Adrian and tugged on his hand, pulling him into the hall as you both exited the elevator.

"Come on!"

You dragged him by the arm down the hall and around the corner to your apartment door. Fishing out your keys becomes an arduous task as Adrian comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you back into again.

The keys slipped from your grasp and hit the floor, but you barely even noticed through the haze of Adrian's lips on your neck.

"I didn't want to stop, is this okay?" He whispers in your ear.

You were left breathless as his hand slid further up your hip, under the hem of your shirt. His warm palm ran across your bare stomach and every muscle in your abdomen tensed at the sensation.

"Oh god, yes."

He pressed more kisses along your neck as he ran his fingers along your skin, gently stroking along the waistband of your pants.

"We should-" You can barely get the words out as your body slowly melted under his hands and mouth. "-go inside." You managed to finish your sentence and he pulled away from you. You nearly whined at the loss of his touch but he swiftly grabbed your keys off the ground and turned them into the lock for you.

You had barely let him through the threshold of your apartment before slamming the door and pushing him against it, pulling him down for another kiss.

You made your way through the apartment, not bothering to stop the make-out session to give him a tour. You practically shoved him into your bedroom and pushed him down to sit on the edge of your mattress.

You quickly stripped off your work pants and top, standing in front of him in nothing but a plain black bra and panty set. You had a small smirk on your face as he stared up at you with wide eyes, his gaze running all along your body.

"Your turn."

"Oh, right." He snapped out of his daze and quickly pulled his sweater over his head along with his shirt.

"Oh my god." You didn't mean to say that out loud but how could you not? He was deceptively well-built under his clothes.

You marvelled at the bulk of his chest, shoulders and arms. His impressive muscle definition had been entirely hidden by his cardigan and plain T-shirt, you never would have guessed he was this fit. Your gaze trailed along his well-defined abs and down to the sparse pattern of hair leading past his waistband. You bit your lip at how gorgeous he looked, so strong and solid.

"Do you work out a lot or something?"

He laughed at your stunned comment.

"Something like that, yeah."

You watched him slip open his belt buckle and tug off his jeans, leaving him in nothing but a pair of dark boxers. Before you could stare for even longer, he tugged you onto his lap and pulled you in for another kiss. You moved to straddle him and kissed him back feverishly.

His tongue swiped at your bottom lip and you opened your mouth to let him in. His hands swept over your thighs and up your spine as his tongue explored your mouth. Fiddling with the clasp behind you, he finally managed to undo your bra. You broke the kiss to lean back, tug the straps off your shoulders and fling it somewhere distant in your room.

He took the opportunity to run his hands up your ribs and along the underside of your now-exposed breasts, cupping them gently and making you gasp. You couldn't hold back the whimpers that flew out of your mouth as he brushed his thumbs against your nipples, teasing them into stiff peaks.

He leaned down and took a nipple in his mouth, clicking his tongue against the hard nub. You grabbed the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the dark curls at his nape as you pressed him further into your chest, desperate to keep his mouth on you. His lips travelled across your chest, nipping and sucking at every inch of flesh he found.

Once you'd caught your breath, you gently cupped his jaw with a hand and pulled him up to look into his sparkling eyes.

"So…is there anything you want to do? It is your birthday, you know." You couldn't resist giving him a teasing smile.

The tips of his ears turned pink and he stared up at you with wide eyes.

"Really? Anything?"

You smiled wider at his awestruck expression. "Got something special in mind, birthday boy?"

"Maybe? Could you…um…" The blush slowly crept down his ears and across his cheeks as he stammered.

You gently rolled your hips against him and the tips of his fingers flexed against your soft thighs as he let out a small groan at the movement.

"Just relax. Go ahead and ask me."

He took a deep breath and looked up at you with a serious expression.

"Can you sit on my face? …please."

A jolt surged through you at the request. You took in his eager expression, the pupils in his green eyes blown out with desire. He nervously licked his bottom lip and drew your eyes downwards to his soft, pink mouth.

"That's what you want?"

He nodded vigorously, glasses slipping down his nose at the rapid movement. You laughed a little at his enthusiasm before leaning forward and gently removing his glasses. You folded them and stood up to place them on your nightstand before turning back to him.

"I'm in. How do you want me?"

His tongue flicked out across his bottom lip again, but much more deliberately this time. He sat back on your bed and lay down with his head on the pillows.

"Come here and grab onto the headboard."

A shiver raced down your spine as you looked down at this gorgeous man spread out before you, all yours for the night. You shimmied out of your black undies and knelt on the mattress, climbing up beside him. He slid a hand under your knee and helped you lift it up and over, holding you to hover above him with your legs bracketing his face.

His hands wrapped around your thighs, firmly holding you in place right over his mouth. The first few licks were tentative and light against your dripping core, his tongue cautiously exploring you. He let out a soft moan as your taste hit his taste buds and gripped your thighs harder.

"You taste fantastic." He mumbled into your inner thigh before running his tongue back over your folds.

As his mouth worked over you, you began to gently rock your hips against him, increasing the friction in the most delicious way. Picking up on your cues, he started to increase his pace, lapping at you with more pressure.

You let out a loud gasp when his tongue flicked over your clit, a noise which quickly turned into a low moan as he did it again. And again.

"Right there, oh god ."

You wound your fingers through his dark curls and held him in place, right over the bundle of nerves currently sending shockwaves through your entire body.

You rode the waves along with his face, cresting every time he hit that one sweet spot. You looked down at him, those gorgeous green eyes were glassy with lust as you coat his face with your own desire. God, you needed more of him.

"Hey, hey." You gently tugged on his hair and sat up a bit, moving off his face. "If you let me turn around, I can touch you."

He glanced up at you, the lower half of his face glistening with your juices. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, this is incredibly fun but I'd love to taste you too."

"Fuck, okay." He didn't need much convincing. He braced your thighs and allowed you to swing one leg over, spin around and throw it back, bringing you to face the opposite direction. You settled yourself back over his face before turning your attention in front of you.

You could see how his cock was straining against the fabric of his boxers, begging to be released. You slowly slipped his boxers down and his hard cock snapped against his stomach, thick with tension. He was long and thick, a drop of precum already leaking from the swollen tip. Yeah, this was a good idea. A really good idea.

You wrapped a hand around the base and began to stroke him up and down with gentle pressure. His hips arched up into your grip and a moan vibrated from low in his throat, rippling through your soaked pussy still pressed right against his face.

You found a solid rhythm between rocking against his face and pumping his cock, getting used to his size. When you were confident enough, you leaned down and swirled your tongue around the head.

The salty taste hit the back of your throat as you slowly slid him further and further into your eager mouth. It took some work and concentration but you managed to work all of him down into your throat without gagging. The choked moans he released when your lips hit the base of his cock were well worth the strain.

Any prior concern you had about this position was quickly worn away as you picked up speed, grinding harder against him. Your thighs started to shake and he tightened his grip on you, holding you steady as you started to come undone above him.

You were still bobbing up and down on his cock, your moans being stifled with him deep in your throat. His fingers were pressing bruises into your skin with their grip and he couldn't stop his hips from jerking up, forcing himself deeper into your mouth, chasing his own release.

You were desperately trying to breathe through your nose and not choke as he fucked up into your throat, teetering on the edge of orgasm as he ran the tip of his tongue over your clit again and again.

You braced your hands on his thighs as the rubber band finally snapped, your pussy drenching his face as waves of pleasure crashed over you. You somehow managed to keep your throat open as he thrust up a few more times before spilling down your throat in return. You dutifully swallowed and slowly pulled back, releasing his softening cock.

You rolled your hips off his face and flopped onto the mattress, grateful for the change in position. Your thighs were going to burn tomorrow but god, that was worth it. You rested for a moment, waiting for the last waves of bliss to fade before moving again.

You crawled to the other side of the bed and lay next to him for a little while, lazily enjoying playing with his dark brown curls and counting his freckles as you both recovered from your climaxes.

His hands were idly dragging across your skin, tracing unknown patterns along your thighs and stomach.

"Hey."

You turned to face him and let out a small giggle at the dopey expression on his face.

"Hey."

" …Do you have any condoms?" He wouldn't look you in the eye as he asked.

"Round two already? I'm impressed."

He flushed immediately, turning pink and twitching his fingertips against your hip. Your cheeks were starting to hurt with how much this man made you grin like a maniac. It was so much fun to tease him, to make him blush. He was the cutest thing you'd ever seen.

"Uh, yes? Only if you want to." He quickly reassured you.

You smiled and hopped off the bed to rummage around on your nightstand. Oh, you definitely wanted to. You tossed a foil wrapper at him and climbed back on the mattress. You watched carefully as he sat up on his knees and pumped his rapidly hardening cock in his fist a few times before rolling on the condom.

He rolled over on top of you and nudged your thighs apart to make room. You held your breath with anticipation as he ran his fingers across you, smiling when he found you already wet. He gripped his cock at the base and ever so slowly slid the head against your core. He easily slipped through your folds, gathering the wetness along his cock in preparation.

"Ready?" He looked down at you, waiting for permission.

You cupped his face in your hands, drew him close and looked into his impossibly green eyes.

"Yes."

He leaned down to capture your lips as he lined up his aching cock with your entrance. He pushed inside you, slowly sinking in inch by inch. You felt the burn of the stretch for a moment as he finally bottomed out, and he paused for a second to let you adjust. The sensation quickly melted into bliss and you felt impossibly full with him buried completely inside you.

You rolled your hips against him, urging him to start moving. He placed his lips on your neck as he slowly began to thrust into you. You gripped his shoulders and arched against him as his teeth scraped along your neck and down your collarbone while he found a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of your soaking pussy. He bit down gently on your shoulder and snapped his hips, forcing a loud moan from you.

Sitting back on his heels, he slid his hands under your knees and pushed them down into the mattress, forcing his cock even deeper. The new angle allowed his sharp thrusts to hit that sweet spot right in your core, sending new waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You couldn't stop from crying out as the pleasure wound up, pulling tight in your lower abdomen. He groaned, the loud sound torn out of him in response to feeling you fluttering around him, squeezing his cock impossibly tight.

"I want to feel you cum," he practically growled in your ear. "Be a good girl and cum on my cock."

"Oh, fuck."

The unexpected dominance in his voice sent liquid fire through your veins and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your climax. His control was slowly slipping and his pace quickened, slamming his hips into yours and sending both of you hurtling towards the edge. You grabbed at his shoulders, your nails digging into him with each stroke.

A few more thrusts, perfectly angled to hammer into just the right spot making you whimper uncontrollably right in his ear, and both of you tumbled off the cliff together. The warmth you'd been feeling all evening spread to every atom of your body as you floated through your orgasm, leaving Adrian gasping for breath as you contracted tightly around him, your cunt desperately milking every drop out of him.

Once he'd caught his breath, he carefully pulled out and snapped the used condom off, tossing it in the small waste basket next to your bed. He climbed back into your bed and collapsed next to you, careful not to crush you with his body weight. He reached out an arm and snagged it around you, pulling you close. You cuddled into his side, fully content and boneless in his arms.

"Hey, Adrian?" You mumbled into his shoulder.

"Hmm?"

You leaned up and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before snuggling back into him and closing your eyes.

"Happy Birthday."

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A/N: You cannot tell me this boy is not shy af and so goofy around pretty girls without the mask on 😂 Civilian Adrian trying to be normal is the sweetest, this was so much fun. I hope you guys enjoyed it! Let me know what you think ~

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silkscreaming · 3 months

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I made a volume 10 trimax vash cosplay for MAGfest and I am SO proud of how it came out :) Some process stuff below! Warning for image and text heavy.

Truthfully this cos is only about 85% complete—I’d purchased a bunch of hardware to really go in on a volume accurate version of his undersuit and belts, but simply ran out of time before the con. It was the first cosplay I’ve sewn since 2017 and the first wig styling I’ve done since 2020, so I’m not gonna beat myself up too much!

(This is all purse hardware off Etsy and some buttons from M&J trim)

This was my first time ever making a muslin mock-up, but I knew it was going to be necessary to get the coat to lay the way I wanted it to. I really wanted to try and create proportions that elongated the legs/torso and widened the shoulders by placing the coat tail splits appropriately and raising up the shoulders with some padding. And of course arm and leg details that I’ll get to someday lol.

I created two mock-ups. One of basic muslin that helped me go from an existing pre-bought pattern to something more Vash-shaped, then a second one on a slightly sturdier scrap fabric with my finalized torso proportions with padding so I could accurately pattern out the sleeves and collar.

I was tracing my pattern pieces onto newsprint and vellum as I went, so once all of those were finalized, it was time to cut my fabric! I used a heavy cotton twill from B&J fabrics and two kinds of fusible interfacing from Mood (I’m spoiled by being local to the fashion district these days). A smarter person would have bought a thinner fabric to line the inner torso with, but I did not feel like getting that complicated with my first ever muslin-drafted AND lined project, so I simply cut double of every pattern piece in order to create a lining.

Sleeves were done by interfacing and cutting into a top panel, carefully snipping at the cutout portions, ironing and fabritacking in place, and then top stitching the whole piece to the main sleeve. I later added some leather backing squares and interfacing behind the larger eyelets for aesthetic while keeping the ventilation in tact. Ideally in the future I'll also add a strip of fabric to the gun arm that creates a slight bunching effect since that sleeve is a little more ruffled over the cuff. Photos below also include three shoulder pads pinned together on each shoulder, but I ended up forgetting not using them on my final wear.

Unfortunately at this point I was approaching con time, so I started cutting some corners that I made easily replaceable for future upgrades. The coat tabs are just painted craft foam cut to the size of the buttons, tacked in place where the button pierces through the tab and where it wraps around the edge of the front panel. The straps that attach to the lapel and wrap under the arms also were just decorated with some silver trim instead of hardware, and I skipped the side button panels at his hips for pattern-making simplicity and time. They'll be added later! I'd also love to do some weathering, but don't think I can quite bring myself to riddle the coat tails with bullet holes as some people do haha.

Gun arm attachment was also a quick and dirty addition, just some vinyl trim on eva foam attached with contact cement and a decorative button. First time working with contact cement somehow, but I look forward to also being able to upgrade this at a later date to a more accurate shape with the full belt attachments!

I was also hoping to update the shoes a bit by making some boot covers for them and rub-n-buffing the soles to disguise the platform a bit, but I love my pick for the cleat-look that Vash has! Some good ol' Demonias in classic vash fashion :)

Last but not least: The Wig. My pride and joy.

I got lucky enough to nab an Arda sale, I think right before Halloween, and picked up the Morpheus lace front in black, along with some extra wefts in pale blonde. (I also bought a whole separate pale blonde Morpheus wig, boldly thinking I could swing a normal trimax vash wig lol. It made for a convenient Eriks wig in the mean time.)

Since I was aiming for the end of volume 10 post-Wolfwood death look, I started by trying on the wig, roughly tracing out my hairline, then gently unweaving that portion of black in order to re-ventilate it with blonde.

After I replaced that whole strip of plucked hair, I tried on again to finalize where I needed to ventilate to cover my own hairline, and completed my outline with both blonde and brown-black wefts (i had them on hand lol). All in all, I ventilated more than 4 square inches of blonde, and at least a solid centimeter extension of the black hairline across the whole front of the wig. Probably close to 30 hours of work in the ventilating alone, but I am a little slow since I haven't ventilated in a few years and didn't keep clear track of time.

If there's one thing I should be used to by now about Arda wigs, they are THICK. There is zero teasing in this wig. None. Just got2b, a blowdryer, and a prayer. And a good load of bobby pins. The wig was also sadly a last minute hotel room mad dash, and I do hope to restyle it under less duress, but I do think I successfully achieved the Trimax swoop and am very proud of it! It was unbelievably windy on the walk from our hotel room to MAGfest, so the photos in the start of this post show a bit more droop than my initial styling, but I think I'll be able to touch things up next wear.

And of course, shoutout to my partner for gifting me the official glasses for Christmas :) And thank you to my roommates who barely saw me for a month and a half except for when I needed help with a hem lol.

All in all, I am unbelievably proud of this cosplay, I can't wait to put some more love into it and wear it again!

#cosplay #trigun cosplay #magfest

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robntunney · 11 months

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I’ve been home for almost 24 hours now and I still can’t believe everything that happened this weekend....

In February, I had promised myself for my 30th birthday this year, I would do one thing just for me. No questions asked. No wondering if it was too expensive. No second guessing myself. No fear holding me back.

Flash forward to about a month ago, Robin was confirmed as a guest at the June Spookala convention in Ocala, Florida. I knew that this was the thing I was gonna do. As soon as I saw it, I knew. Like a light switch was instantly flipped in my brain.

I’m going to put all of the details under the cut because I don’t want to fill up your dash with a super long post BUT I will say she is even more sweet than you would think. The time she takes with every group, talking to them, listening to them, making them feel comfortable is just so heart warming. I saw it at the auto table and in the pro picture booth. It was just genuine care.

To say that my heart is full after this weekend would be an understatement.

OK so these are all the details, that even to me have a major plot twist ending (I mean I’m still not sure it actually happened)

FRIDAY: I had made a poster myself to get signed because you guys know I can be a lil extra :) Plus I just felt like for me it would be more special. It is a watercolor collage of a good portion of her works. This was a horror con so most people are here to see her because of the craft (great movie) but I think as soon as she saw the poster, she might of realized I was here as a fan of her/her work over all as opposed to a fan of her in that specific movie. She loved it and asked if she could take a picture of it, which was fine with me. As she was signing, I was going back in forth in my head whether or not to show her my tattoo. But I quickly realized that I would be going against the true meaning behind it if I didn’t say anything. So I explained it to her (tattoo here & inspo here) and she told me she loved it and that it was so sweet and asked if she could take a picture of that too, which again, no problem here. I also did my pro photo on Friday which comes with a long story of it’s own but I’m gonna keep that one private (if we’re moots and you wanna know just message me!)

SATURDAY: This was a very busy day so I was just wondering looking at all the amazing vendors the show had (I bought so many stickers and a few pins). I did this a bit all days but couldn’t do it for long because all I wanted to do was buy all the things!!! I also did a little local exploring.

SUNDAY: I decided to hold off and get the jersey dress replica signed (partly because I wasn’t sure if I was actually going to do it) but I decided that I wanted to do it. My plan from the beginning was that I would get it signed and framed to auction off for charity. It is not beyond me that me even having the opportunity to do this is a privilege that not everyone has, so this was the best way I knew how to honor that and give back. When I got there, she remembered me (ngl that threw me) and we just started talking again and we started talking about edits, since now she had signed 2 things that I made. I told her about tumblr and @tmsource and how there are still a lot of the mentalist fans out there that are active now on many platforms. She said how talented we all are, everyone who makes edits, because she does see them. And she does like them! I told her my plans for the jersey dress and if she just wanted to shout out a charity on insta, I would see it at some point and make sure all proceeds of the jersey go to that charity. There was some more talking that I’m gonna keep for me but at the end she got up and said I have to give you a hug, which was so sweet :)

Here comes the twist..... Sunday night after I got myself all packed up since I was hitting Magic Kingdom in the morning before my flight and needed to get on the road early, I decided to do the insta post. You know to mark the end of the weekend. I tagged her in it because of course I thought she might see it, and see that I was very grateful for her time this weekend. I’ve had a not so great relationship with instagram in the past so after a full year of not having it on my phone except for a few times where I literally downloaded it, made a post and deleted it again, I hadn’t been using it. Just a few months ago had I decided to leave it on my phone, but I kept notifications off. After a few min, I get a text from a friend that just said omg britt. Of course I was confused, and was just like ??? They said look at instagram. She had liked and commented on my post. Of course I was shocked because even though when you tag someone you hope they see it, you know that it’s not a high probability of it actually happening. I replied and thanked her again for her time this weekend, and dropped a lil reminder about the charity recommendation for the jersey. (bonus fact, I almost deleted the comment when I tried to pin it, not a good time for me) I just kept thinking about how sweet it was that she was interacting with people who had been at the con after giving 3 whole days to everyone. Got on twitter, freaked out it a lil, then went back to insta to close the app out and I had more notifications. AND THIS IS WHAT I SAW......

I still don’t have words if I’m being honest. (context for the comment is in the last video on the post) I’m just still so grateful for this whole weekend. I’m grateful for my friends that helped me through it even if they were miles and miles away. I’m grateful for the privilege to even be able to do something like this. I’m grateful for Robin’s generosity. Just so grateful.

If you’ve made it this far, I love you. You’re a real one :)

#robin tunney #britt.txt #spookala #tumblr girlies unite

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lameravigliadoro · 10 months

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French conversation starters…

if you like your coffee with lots of cream and sugar in it

est-ce que vous pouvez rajouter du lait s’il vous plaît ?

c’est possible de mettre plus de sucre ?

vous faites autre chose que des expressos ?

un café crème, merci

→ bonus point : your friend wants to make you coffee!

moi j’aime bien quand y a beaucoup de lait et de sucre

rajoute un peu de lait…

tu peux me passer du sucre s’il te plait

if you’re afraid of making mistakes in french

je parle pas super bien français (i don't speak French that well)

corrige-moi si je me trompe, mais… (correct me if i’m wrong, but)

je vais sûrement dire une connerie, mais… (i’ll probably say something dumb, but)

j’ai commencé le français y a pas longtemps (i started learning French not long ago)

… putain mais c’est dur aussi comme langue! (it is a hard language, for fuck’s sake!)

(note de la rédaction : never apologise for making mistakes, but if you really made a huge mistake, like if you misgendered bread, you can just say “désolé.e��)

if you want to impress your friends and order in french at the restaurant

alors du coup, euh, (-> gap fillers are important too) moi j’vais prendre (insert name of food on menu), avec juste de l’eau en carafe (tap water)

c’est quoi le plat du jour? (what’s the meal of the day?)

mon ami.e va prendre des tagliatelle (my friend is taking the tagliatelle, pronounce /ta-KLI-a-t-è-l/, sorry Italians)

le pain, il est gratuit? (is the bread free?)

le poisson, il est d’aujourd’hui? (is it the catch of the day?)

et vous le faites en végan? (do you have a vegan version?)

on peut r’avoir de l’eau ? (more water please)

le café gourmand, y a quoi avec? (what sort of mignardises/pastries/sweetmeats do you put with the expresso?)

ah bon… on va prendre le moelleux alors je pense… ah vous faites juste un fondant, bah va pour fondant alors… (so, uhm, I think we’re gonna take the spongy chocolate cake, ah you only do a chocolate fondant, well, we’ll go with the chocolate fondant then…)

on peut avoir l'addition ? (could we have the bill?)

(note de la rédaction : always say s’il vous plaît, it doesn’t hurt a fly to say it, so say it! even if the waitress/waiter doesn't seem very nice, they have to deal with French people on a daily basis, show some kindness…)

if you go to thrift shops

c’est quoi la taille ? (what’s the size?)

elles sont à combien les lunettes/bagues ? (how much for the glasses/rings)

ils sont à combien les bérets/bonnets/bijoux/foulards/pin’s ? (how much for the berets/beanies/jewelry/scarf/pin’s)

vous la/le faites à combien ? (how much for this?)

vous auriez des salopettes ? et des pattes d’eph ? et des dos nu ? (do you have dungarees? flared trousers? halterneck?)

regarde ce que j’ai chopé en fripe l’autre jour! (look what i got at the thrift shop the other day!)

if you like to talk about politics

t’as vu les infos ? (did you check the news?)

putain t’as vu ce qu’il a dit (insert name of Minister, President, MP, political figure) ? (did you see what they said?)

ce projet de loi c’est n’importe quoi de toute façon (this bill is nonsense anyway)

c’est qui les candidats aux :

Européennes (for the European Parliament)

Municipales (Local)

Régionales (Local too)

Sénatoriales (Parliament, but with the old white men)

Législatives (Parliament, but with the younger white men)

Présidentielles (also white men)

c’est quand la prochaine manif ? (when’s the next protest?)

c’est des polémiques à la con (these are bloody stupid controversies)

moi, je suis d’accord/pas d’accord avec :

les verts (green MPs, called EELV)

les insoumis (“the unsubmitted” from “La France Insoumise”, they’re a left/far-left leaning group, and the biggest left-wing group at the Parliament atm, called LFI)

les macronistes (Macron’s group, right-wing liberals)

les républicains (traditionally, they're the right-wing group, called LR)

les communistes (pretty transparent, they're call PCF)

les socialistes (same here, called PS)

le RN ("Rassemblement National", the far-right group, heirs of the French version of the Nazis and Vichy France)

les macronistes et républicains sont d’accord sur (insert typical right-wing policies)

les députés RN sont des fachos, t’es pas d’accord ? (the National Rally MPs are fascists, don’t you agree?)

j’ai écouté (insert name) à la télé/radio/sur twitch/au meeting, c’était pas bête quand elle/il a dit que…

if you want to chat in French with your cat

t'as déjà mangé tes croquettes toi ? (did you eat your kibble already?)

t'es trop mignon comme potichat (internet slang for "petit chat") toi ! (you're too cute a kitty)

il est où ce sale chat ?! (where's the bloody cat?!)

descends de là Félix/Biglouche/Garfield/Caramel/Noireau/Tigrou/Gribouille/Minette/Blanchette/Mistigri/Minou/add other typical French names for cats ! (get down from here!)

miaou (meow)

à la prochaine!

#french #langblr #language learning #french vocab #slang #colloquialism #french politics #french restaurants #coffee #cat #thrift shop #french fashion

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blockgamepirate · 3 years

Text

So we were talking on Discord about a DSMP superpowers AU, specifically Syndicate as an anarchist superhero team who are perceived as villains by pretty much everybody. (There were a bunch of people involved in the brainstorming but I wanna particularly credit @macachee for the idea for Techno’s superpowers, even though I ended up using a slightly different version than theirs.)

Anyway I know I don't really write fanfic anymore and I'm extremely rusty but uh... my hand slipped?

(CW: nothing major but there are repeated mentions of fire and some pretty tame violence)

×××

"Professor Underscore, I presume?"

The distinctive deep voice of an infamous supervillain was really not something anyone wanted to hear after 14 hours of last minute bug-fixing on a prototype superweapon in a secret laboratory. Especially when all your assistants had already called it a day and gone home.

Without even looking around, Tubbo reached for the gun in his desk drawer but before he could pull it out, a blade smashed into the wood right next to his hand.

"Nope", said the voice, "you don't get to have weapons, I get to have weapons. And speaking of weapons..."

Tubbo carefully turned around on his chair to face his attacker. As expected, it was a huge, hulking pigman dressed in flashy red and a golden mask.

"You are Protesilaus, aren't you? From the Syndicate?"

Protesilaus blinked at him. "You're a LOT younger than I expected, professor."

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

"I mean it's very impressive though, good for you."

"Thanks."

"So anyway, I'm here for the weapons."

"The weapons are kinda reserved already. You know, for the military."

"Don't give a shit", said a voice from the door. "Gib."

Protesilaus sighed. "Zephyrus, you're supposed to be the secret back-up."

The man hiding by the door frame laughed. "We already took care of the guards. There's nobody here but him, it's fiiine."

"But what if HE has his own secret back-up? What then? Well, it's too late now so just keep a look-out, alright?"

Zephyrus laughed again. "Sure."

"Alright." Protesilaus pointed his sword at Tubbo. "Show us to the weapons."

×××

There wasn't much he could think of doing to stall except try and tap in the pin codes on the doors as slowly as humanly possible. To be fair he didn't even really know what he was stalling for exactly. Secret back-up would have been nice but if they’d really taken out all the guards then none was likely to come.

Protesilaus was following him, sword in hand, making random small talk on the way as if he didn't know how to deal with the silence. Tubbo had only caught a few glimpses of Zephyrus, the winged man, in the background or in reflections. He seemed to be tampering with the security systems on the way, meaning that Tubbo really might be completely alone on this if the sabotage was successful. Zephyrus was also pulling along a big wheeled container of some sort that was probably intended for the weapons.

The two of them were the known members of the Syndicate, a team of anarchist terrorists who gave nightmares to the local police forces, the national guard and occasionally the military, but it was also widely theorized to have a secret third member with fire powers. Nobody had ever managed to catch them in the act, the only evidence of the secret member's existence was the trail of smoking ruins following the pair, their targets always burned down in a blaze of extremely memorable pink flames.

Tubbo had a theory that there were actually two secret members in the Syndicate, because if you're going to have one secret member you might as well have two, right? Maybe even three! It just made sense.

His assistants hadn't seemed convinced by this logic.

They arrived at the large hall leading up to the main vault where the prototypes were hidden and Tubbo finally had a plan. Somebody (probably him, honestly) had left the remote control of his battle bots lying around on a sidetable. He took advantage of his captors checking the space for surprise guards and inched slowly towards the remote.

"Everything good up there?" Protesilaus called out to Zephyrus who had flown up to the rafters.

"All good."

"Alright, seems safe enough", said Protesilaus. "Now, open the vault."

Tubbo just needed to stall a little bit longer until he could grab the remote undetected. "Actually, maybe I just won't be able to live with the fact that I let you guys get your hands on superweapons? What if I'd rather die than let you have them?"

Protesilaus sighed. "Look, don't worry, it's for a good cause, I promise."

"I mean, you guys are supervillains."

"Oh yeah sure, you're literally making weapons for an imperialist government but we're the villains?"

"What about that orphanage you burned down?" Tubbo kept moving towards the sidetable, trying to make it look like he was just pacing nervously.

"I have NEVER burned down any orphanages, I do NOT have an irrational hatred of small children, in fact I LOVE orphans in particular, you can ask anyone."

"You did, though! That was like two years ago, back when you were part of the Sleepy Bois Inc!"

Tubbo actually knew quite a lot about the Sleepy Bois, the infamous villain team who were particularly known for conning people into taking part in some sort of strange experiments, like that time they somehow transported a hundred people to the moon and told them to terraform a random area. The group had broken up a while back and two of the four had since reformed. Well, more or less reformed anyway. Actually not really reformed, but they were at least sticking to smaller crimes these days.

Anyway Mr. Business was now one of Tubbo's best friends, although nobody was supposed to know that. And Dirty Crime Boy seemed like a surprisingly nice guy. He was out there running what seemed to be some kind of a drug van but Tubbo had chosen not to worry about it too much.

The other two members, however...

"Sleepy Boys? Doesn't ring a bell." Protesilaus' face was suspiciously blank.

"You know, back when you called yourself the Blood God."

"Nah nah nah, I'm Protesilaus, not the Blood God."

"Come on, you're OBVIOUSLY the Blood God."

"I've never even heard of that guy."

"You're LITERALLY a pigman with superhealing powers and a shiny magical sword, you wear a crown AND you're hanging out with a blond guy with wings who looks just like the Angel of Death."

"Wow, wild coincidence", said Protesilaus

“Not gonna lie, the Angel of Death is a really cool name“, said Zephyrus.

Tubbo ignored them. "And you sound exactly like the Blood God."

"I don't hear it", said Protesilaus.

"You said you don't even know who he is!"

"Exactly."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'EXACTLY'??? THAT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE!!!"

"Well I can't hear it if I've never even heard him speak. That's just logic."

Up in the rafters Zephyrus was cackling like a madman.

"You annoy me so much", said Tubbo.

"Aaaanyways, just give us a little peek into the vault, alright? Just out of curiosity, you know."

Tubbo had made it to the remote, he just needed one more distraction to cover for him grabbing it. "Uh..." Then he had an idea: he just took a quick sudden glance at the exit, as if he'd seen something over there and sure enough both of the criminals immediately turned to check. It was just long enough. He got the remote. "Okay fine, you can see the vault."

"Nice, nice." Protesilaus was still glancing around suspiciously but he had no idea what he should have been suspicious of.

Tubbo was more than happy to open the vault now. It might be holding the prototypes but it was also filled with a small army of robots.

All of which came to life with the press of a button.

"Ah", said Protesilaus. "There's his secret back-up."

"Oh Jesus", said Zephyrus. "I think we fucked up."

"You could say that", said Tubbo. "If you just leave peacefully I might let you go", he added in a sudden fit of uncharacteristic levels of confidence.

Protesilaus raised his sword. "Well you see, I really want those weapons, though."

"I guess you'll just have to fight the robots for it then", said Tubbo, configuring the targetting system.

"Mate, they've got guns on them", Zephyrus called out from above.

"Take cover then", said Protesilaus, very much not taking any cover at all himself.

Tubbo, pretty sure the bots knew which people to fight, released them on the criminals.

Protesilaus immediately managed to dodge the first few lazer bolts from the bots, but the third hit him on the arm. He flinched a bit but didn't seem too bothered. "Ouch. Okay so they can actually aim."

Still dancing around the shots, he held his hand to the wound and once he took it off, only the singed hole on his sleeve remained. The Blood God had been known for some kind of healing powers and coincidentally Protesilaus of the Syndicate, who apparently definitely wasn't the Blood God, just happened to also have healing powers. This fight was going to be hard even for thirty robots.

The pigman finally took some cover, hiding behind a pillar. The robots would have to move closer and Tubbo could already tell that if he'd manage to single them out, Protesilaus would easily take them down one by one.

Even worse, Zephyrus had hidden behind a different pillar up near the ceiling and was sniping the bots from above. They were supposed to be bulletproof but the man was absolutely cracked and managed to keep hitting them in the joints and in the eyes.

But at least the bots had given Tubbo some room to work with. He bolted into the vault and headed straight for a very specific section.

"So I just wanna know, professor", Protesilaus called out from the hall, "how are you NOT the evil mastermind here? You have a LITERAL horde of robots in your control that you can just let loose on people!"

"What do you MEAN? They're for fighting people like you! In this exact kind of situation!" Tubbo found what he was looking for and quickly unbuckled the huge harnesses holding it in place. He had to get a stool to reach the highest ones and nearly tripped on it in his hurry.

"Oh and how many of these have you sold to the government? And what if they just decide that they'd be very convenient for taking care of dissenters?"

"Well if the dissenters are literal supervillains, that sounds great." He climbed the ladder on the wall up to the platform by the mech suit and jumped inside.

He couldn't hear what Protesilaus responded after he pulled down the dome of the suit over his body. The sounds of fighting and the bulletproof glass drowned it all out from this distance, and the sound system wasn’t turned on yet. Now the odds should be a lot more even, though. Let’s see how they deal with this, he thought. He settled in and launched the mech--

... and then maneuvered awkwardly through the mess of secret weapons and machines inside his vault. He was pretty sure he didn't break too many things on the way, it was fine. In the corner of his eye he thought he saw a flash of pink and for a second he worried that the pigman had followed him into the vault where it would be almost impossible for him to fight in the suit but luckily he could still hear the sound of sword clanging into metal from outside.

He moved over to the vault door as sneakily as he could while piloting a 12-foot-tall machine in a tight space and looked out into the hall. The floor was littered with broken robots, and there were several blinded ones aimlessly wandering around and getting in the way of the ones that still functioned properly. Protesilaus was towards the back of the hall, stabbing a bot in the armpit and tearing off its arm, Zephyrus on the other hand, still perching on the rafters, had moved around the pillar he had hidden behind, now aiming away from the vault. Neither of them were looking at Tubbo. He took aim and shot at one of the huge grey wings.

"Ah! Fuck!" Zephyrus spun around. "You little shit!"

"Zephyrus, are you okay??" Protesilaus immediately looked over to his ally and took another hit himself.

"I'm FINE, dude!" Zephyrus sounded exasperated but fond. "Look out yourself! Also the kid has a fucking mech."

"A what?"

Tubbo slammed the vault door shut. Good luck getting in there now, Syndicate. Then he tossed aside some robot carcasses to clear out the floor and threw one at Protesilaus who dodged it easily but in the process took another hit from a different robot. He was starting to look tired and he was obviously distracted by Zephyrus getting hurt. That was promising.

Tubbo started climbing the pillar up to the ceiling. Zephyrus cursed again and tried to hop around the pillar to run across to the other side but his hurt wing didn't open properly so he lost his balance, slipped up and fell. "Shit!"

"ZEPHYRUS!"

The man managed to open his wings and soften the fall but the injury made him veer dangerously to the left and crash into a pile of broken robots. Protesilaus leaped over to him, dropping his sword and laying his hands on his friend's wing and back. A faint red glow emitted from the touch points.

Tubbo jumped back down to the ground and stormed at them. He punched the pigman right in the chin, sending him flying across the room. He then tried to grab Zephyrus but the man had already slipped away and had apparently managed to pick up his friend's sword. "You motherfucker", the man said, "I'm going to take that fucking suit apart and then it's your turn."

"Zeph!" Protesilaus called from the side and Zephyrus tossed the sword to him without taking his eyes of off Tubbo. Then the man pulled up his sniper rifle again and Tubbo quickly covered his weak points with his armoured arms and jumped behind a pillar. He needed to disarm Zephyrus ASAP.

Behind them, Protesilaus was taking care of the last few robots. Tubbo didn't have much time, but he couldn't do anything until Zephyrus would have to reload, the guy was just too accurate...

"Oh fuck", said Zephyrus suddenly. "Prot, the door!"

They all turned to look at the exit.

There, at the door, was Ranboo, widened eyes flicking between Tubbo, the broken robots and the Syndicade. He was holding a bowl of biscuits and a cup of tea. "Uh... hello? Hi?"

Ranboo was actually NOT allowed in the vaults but how do you stop someone who can literally teleport anyway? Tubbo was glad to see him sneaking in, though.

"Ranboo! Help! They're trying to steal the weapons!"

"I..." Ranboo seemed frozen in place.

"Ranboo!" Tubbo was starting to get worried. His husband wasn't even taking any shelter. He drove the mech over to him to at least give him some protection.

"I just came to bring you cookies? Coz I thought maybe you were staying late to make the deadline and I thought--"

"Ranboo, I'm being attacked by supervillains right now!"

"Look, what if we just talked this through? I'm sure everybody here would rather not kill each other, right?" Ranboo was tall enough to lay a hand on Tubbo's shoulder even when he was wearing the mech suit which kind of pissed Tubbo off to be quite honest.

"Sure", said Protesilaus, "I love negotiating. Give us the weapons and their blueprints and we're more than happy to go."

"See? That's good, right? Tubbo, we can just let them have the weapons."

"Ranboo, sometimes you're a bit too quirky for my liking. Stop being quirky, help me fight them. You can use your... T-E-L-I-P-O-R-T-A-T-I-O-N powers."

Everybody just stared at him for a second.

"Shouldn't it be T-E-L-E?" said Protesilaus.

"Tubbo, you realise they can spell words too, you know, like most people who graduated elementary school?" said Ranboo.

"I'M SORRY! I'M TIRED, OKAY?"

“You could have just said ‘use your powers’, I mean, I know what my powers are.”

“IT'S BEEN A REALLY LONG DAY!“

"Zephyrus, I think this guy might be too much for us, I've never met such intimidating intellect", said Protesilaus. Zephyrus seemed to already be dying of laughter and his ally's words did not help.

"Now that's just rude," said Tubbo.

He'd barely finished his sentence when a horrible whistling sound hit them all like an invisible cargo train. After a second Tubbo managed to reassemble his braincells long enough to figure it out: "The fire alarm!"

Then he noticed the grin on his enemy's face. "Well, good job, everyone! Let's go home, Zephyrus", said Protesilaus cheerfully.

"Sure, mate."

The secret third member of the Syndicate, Tubbo suddenly remembered. The container they'd brought with them was gone too. Well, fuck. "This whole thing was a diversion??"

"Yep." The Protesilaus was already at the exit and Zephyrus was following right behind him. "See ya, losers!"

Something inside the vault exploded, making a muffled bang through the door, as if just to prove where exactly the fire had been lit.

"Oh man..." Tubbo flopped down on his seat. "I spent SO LONG building all those things!"

"Tubbo, we need to get out." Ranboo took him by the hand of his mech suit and pulled him along.

"No, we could still go in and save the--"

"No, Tubbo. Let's NOT run into the vault full of dangerous chemicals that's literally on fire, actually."

×××

By the time the fire department showed up, pink flames had enveloped the entire lab complex. The terrorists presumably had at least one of the prototypes now and all the remaining ones were a lost cause.

It's not like all the work was gone to waste, they'd made some backups at least, but it would be a pain to find a new lab and order all the extremely volatile chemicals again. So much paperwork. Tubbo was really not good at paperwork.

"Well, there goes my summer holidays I guess", he said.

"Yeah", said Ranboo. "There they go."

×××

"So... Lethe", said Techno at the next Syndicate meeting, "you never happened to mention you were friends with Professor Underscore."

Ranboo shifted nervously in his chair. "I mean... in my defence, you never said you were going to raid his lab?"

"True, true. It didn't seem like relevant information at the time I suppose. You know, because you're kinda more in the group just for the book club and Bake Off Fridays and not so much for the vigilante thing."

"How do you know Professor Underscore, Lethe?" asked Niki gently.

Ranboo looked around the table. He was fairly certain that the others wouldn't kill him for fraternizing with the enemy. He was pretty sure anyway. At least 70% sure.

Also they were all staring at him now.

"Uh... he's my... husband?"

The staring continued.

"Oh!" said Niki.

"Well", said Techno. "This is awkward."

"Uh huh?" Ranboo responded, his entire body tense and slightly wobbly.

"Techno", Phil said softly. Techno brushed him off.

"So uh, are you attached to him, Lethe?"

"Y-yes?" Ranboo straightened his back. "Yes." he said again, more firmly.

"Alright. I guess in the future we should try not to kill him then."

#dsmp fanfiction #technoblade fanfiction #im not tagging the others #i feel like im too much of a techno stan and it shows

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

Text

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 3

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Winter soldiers on, the cold and occasional snow giving way to the promise of spring. Her birthday comes and goes, celebrated at her mother’s with her family as it had been before there was someone else to lay claim to her time on special days. The vacant spaces in her apartment that had been occupied by Ethan’s books and clothes, his toiletries, and VHS collection, begin to be filled by evidence of her new, single life. Her solitary toothbrush in the cup by the sink starts to look normal, the indent on her finger where his ring lived begins to fade, and the silence she arrives home to at the end of her workday becomes mundane instead of painful. Though this change was initiated and welcomed by her, change is always hard. She goes through the motions of being okay until one day in early April, she realizes that she is. The budding crocuses bring with them the optimism of a new life, another chance. A third chance, as it were, to get it right. Now she only has to figure out what right is.

Though they’ve always been close, she and Missy become even closer, taking up the space in each other’s lives that would otherwise be consumed by boyfriends or lovers. They are each other’s better half, sharing the minutiae of their workdays and staying available for unexpected illness or the need to move heavy furniture. While every human needs other humans to thrive, the Scully sisters fill that need with each other, shunning the idea of casual dating simply for the sake of companionship. There is no companion more perfect than the one who has known you since before you could understand the need for such a partner in life, and who is by your side not out of obligation, but because their soul is stitched so firmly to your own. They have always pledged their dedication to each other through thick and thin, and the new year of 1997 proves that to be a sincere promise on both their parts.

As such, they sit at their favorite local coffee shop on Sunday afternoon when Missy finally dares to ask her sister the question she’s avoided for the past four months. Not because she was afraid of her reaction, but because she knew Dana wasn’t ready to talk about it.

“Have you heard from Mulder at all?” she asks so casually that Dana flicks her eyes up and stares in disbelief, not sure that she heard her right.

“What?” Dana asks, her heart having lept for one single beat at the mention of his name.

“Mulder. Have you had any contact with him, or seen him?” Missy is misleadingly casual, acting as though this is not a question she’s been waiting months to ask.

“No,” Dana says flatly, her eyes dropping down to her coffee cup. “I wouldn’t expect to.”

“Does he know that you and Ethan split?” Missy asks next, her feet folded underneath her in the oversized armchair.

“I don’t see how he would,” Dana posits.

“Have you considered reaching out to him?” Missy tries, watching her sister for signs that she is going to shut the conversation down.

Dana shakes her head glumly. “After what I put him through, I’m sure I’m the last person he wants to hear from. That was nearly nine months ago, he’s probably long since moved on.”

“Have you? Moved on?”

Dana pulls in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I don’t know how to answer that. What does it mean, to move on?”

“Do you still think about him?” No assertions, just gentle questions, leading her sister to the conclusion she knows she needs to come to.

Dana nods softly. “All the time. Every day.”

“Then I think your answer would be no. You should contact him, Dana. It feels like unfinished business.” Missy has a thing about unfinished business. She believes it prevents you from achieving your full potential in life.

“Missy...what would I even say? ‘Sorry I broke your heart, good news is it didn’t even work out so it was all for nothing’? I don’t want to cause him more pain than I already have.” Her tone is resigned and defeated. Another regret she will come to live with, pinned to her lapel with a collection of other mistakes that she can never quite atone for.

Missy shrugs. “You know what I think. The rest is up to you.”

Missy is right. The trouble is, she doesn't trust herself to make these decisions anymore. She’s proven to herself that she doesn’t know how to make the right one.

———

“Excuse me,” a rough, nasally voice calls from behind her. She turns to see a red nosed young man in the doorway of the pathologist’s office, slumped against the doorframe with watery eyes. “I’m here to pick up an autopsy report, for, um...I think it’s Richards or something.”

Scully has worked with this courier before, and compared to his typical demeanor it’s easy to tell that he’s unwell.

“Are you alright?” she asks as she uses her feet to push her rolling chair over to the file cabinet, retrieving the report in question.

“Uh, not really, no. But if I call out sick one more time I’m gonna get canned.” He leans his head against the cool metal of the doorframe. She suspects he’s feverish.

“You don’t look well enough to work. Where is this headed?” she asks, still holding the file in her hand.

The young man blows out a stream of air and she holds her breath for a moment, not wanting to inhale whatever he’s infected with. He pulls a slip of paper from his pocket. “Hoover Building, Behavioral Science Unit. Agent Kissop.” He stuffs the paper back in his pocket and looks around, taking refuge in the extra chair near the end of her desk.

She feels a little flutter in her belly; what are the odds?

“I’ll tell you what,” she begins, “I was just about to head out for the day and I live in Georgetown, so I’m going that way anyway. Can I drop this off for you? You don’t look well enough to drive and I’d hate to see you on the news in the morning if you cause an accident.”

He sighs deeply, the biggest display of excitement he can muster. “Are you sure? I’d really appreciate it,” he says, his eyelids barely maintaining half-mast.

“No problem at all,” she replies, gathering her coat and purse. “You get home and take some Tylenol, okay? And get some rest.”

He nods weakly and she leaves him there, climbing into her car with the file and a pounding heart. She can’t help but feel like this is a sign. She’s been thinking about signs a lot lately, and she’s recently resolved to start paying attention to them.

———

Mulder stands beside the copy machine, doing his Wednesday afternoon ritual of fighting with the toner cartridge and cursing profusely. From around the corner, he can hear AD Kirkbride drumming up his own song of profanity, which is more of a daily ritual than a weekly one.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Kirkbride is shouting. “Now that dipshit is conning goddamn doctors into doing his pathetic job?”

Another much softer voice answers him, but Mulder can’t quite make out the words. He moves closer to the open door, bored enough to bother eavesdropping and seeing which of his colleagues is going to get their ass handed to them today.

“Yeah, I’m sure he is sick, that fucking lowlife. He’s sick every fucking week, it’s always something with him!”

“Sir, I don’t know what the history is between you and the courier,” answers the other voice, and it’s familiar in a way that makes him stop in his tracks, his stomach clutching in a mix of nervousness and excitement. “Can you direct me to Agent Kissop, please? Then I’ll be on my way and you can work it out with the courier service.”

It’s Scully. It’s her, he’s sure. He’s been dreaming of that voice for months, the soft sibilant S’s and the way her plush lips rest against her adorable overbite. Without thinking, he enters Kirkbride’s office and sees her standing in front of his desk with a file in her hand and an exasperated look on her face.

“Scully?” he asks, and she turns to him. Her hair is a bit longer, now just past her shoulders, and she’s wearing black slacks and a white blouse. She’s as beautiful as ever, maybe even more than he remembered. She doesn’t look all that surprised to see him. If anything, she looks relieved. Emotion boils up in his chest immediately and he feels his throat constrict.

“You know her?” Kirkbride asks, gesturing to Scully, and Mulder nods. “Great, then show her where Kissop sits so I can call the fucking courier service and tell them to fire that lazy asshat before I strangle him.”

Scully walks towards him and he turns wordlessly to show her out of Kirkbride’s office and down the hall to where Kissop sits. His heart is beating slowly but firmly, his pulse resounding in his ears. What is she doing here? Did she come here to see him? And if so, why? When they arrive at Kissop’s desk, Scully hands her the file and they exchange words that Mulder doesn’t bother to listen to. Then Scully looks at him hesitantly and slowly turns to walk away, towards the exit. He feels suspended, unsure if he can believe his own eyes that she is really here, and entirely conflicted over what to do about it if she is. He’s spent nine months trying to forget her, but she’s as real and alive as ever, standing before him. His self-protective instinct says to let her go, but his heart says to run after her.

“Quit standing here like a dumbass and go talk to her,” Kissop orders him, clearly picking up on some tension though she doesn’t have the faintest idea what’s causing it.

Shaken from his daze, Mulder follows Scully into the hallway.

“Scully,” he calls out, and she stops walking but doesn’t turn around. When he catches up to her, he touches her shoulder and she turns to face him with wet eyes.

They stand there for a moment, looking at one another, an expectant feeling hanging over them. He wants to touch her, to feel the press of her body against his again, but he doesn’t dare. That would seem like a relapse, of sorts.

“Would you have coffee with me?” she finally speaks, her voice small and unsure. It’s an invitation she is not at all confident he will accept.

“Okay,” he answers, and they walk out of the building side by side, silently.

They seem to understand without saying so that Mulder will lead them to where they ought to go, which is a little cafe called Burial Grounds just a block from the front doors of the Hoover Building. They stand in line stoically, tension crackling between them like static as they order something that will occupy their hands and give them a safe place to avert their eyes while they talk. They sit at a small table near the door and wait, glimpsing at each other’s faces and then away, summoning courage. Because this was at Scully’s invitation, it seems like she should have the floor.

“Ethan and I aren’t together anymore,” she finally blurts out, and his first instinct is to look at her hand, which is indeed bare of any jewelry. Next he looks at her face, considering her expression and whether she takes this to be good news or bad. She looks pained, but not about what she’s just said. She’s had this look on her face since he first spotted her in Kirkbride’s office. He’s unsure if he should be offering congratulations or condolences, and irritated that he’s being put in the position to figure it out, so he says nothing.

“I’m sure that I’m just about the last person you want to see,” she continues, her ocean irises tracing the logo printed on her cup. It wasn’t a question, but if it were he’d tell her that she’s the only person he wants to see, the only one he ever thinks about. The reason he can’t sleep and, when he does, the only thing he dreams about. “If it’s okay, there are some things I’d like to say to you. I understand if you don’t want to hear them.”

She flicks her eyes up to meet his for a moment and he nods softly, keeping his expression neutral. She returns her gaze to the skull and crossbones bearing the name of the coffee shop.

“I have always believed that life is about making the right choices. That we are presented with an ongoing series of options, opportunities and situations, and that we are tasked with determining the right choice that will put us on the path towards the best possible life. But as of late,” she pauses to take a sip of her coffee, stealing a glance at him before she continues, “I’ve come to believe that there is actually only one choice. One path we’re supposed to be on, and there are signs along the way to pay attention to. The choices might not always make sense at the time, but in the grand scheme of things, they are the ones you need to make in order to have the best possible life. Or the right life, the one you’re supposed to have.”

She pauses and slides her hand across the table, covering his with her own. The soft warmth of her skin electrifies him a little, sending a flush to his belly. She brings her eyes up to meet his, her brows knit with emotion as her chin gently puckers. She’s so beautiful it physically hurts.

“I ignored the signs,” she says tightly. “I made the wrong choice, Mulder. I thought I was doing the right thing, the best thing, but I was wrong. I’m so sorry that I hurt you.”

He feels his chest tighten, a telltale precursor to tears, and he looks away from her. Why is she doing this? To make herself feel better? She pulls her hand back and sniffs, then stands and slings her purse over her shoulder.

“Thank you for having coffee with me,” she says, and then he watches her leave. He sits there, staring at the pink lipstick that stains the rim of her cup, wishing she’d given him some more time to absorb it all. Wishing she’d never made the wrong choice.

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files #x files fanfic #alternate universe

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sherrybaby14 · 5 years

Text

I Do

Prompt: Can I request a millionaire!Steve Rogers x reader. Where he had his eyes on the reader for quite some time and uses her drunk state one night in a bar/ nightclub to marry her. And the next morning he refuses to let her go, she's his wife now after all and he's gonna take extra good care of her, starting that morning with fucking every thought of ever leaving him out of her? 🙈

Warnings: Non-con (please do not read if this offends you) (also turns into dubcon) alcohol, smut

Words: 2300

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

A/N: This is an AU.

The bar at this restaurant was your favorite place to eat dinner when you were in town. You hated traveling alone, looking at all the happy couples enjoying their fine dining experiences. But your job had you coming to Vegas once a month the past year.

At least you had your phone to play with.

“How was the food?” A voice made you look up from your device.

You readied to tell the man to fuck off, but fuck…he was gorgeous.

“It was good.” Smooth…real smooth.

“That’s what I like to hear.” He pulled out the empty seat next to you. “What brings you to Vegas?”

“Work.” You turned toward him. “What about you?”

“Oh, I live here.” He sat down.

“I thought none of the locals came to the strip.” You’d been here enough and never ran into someone who lived here.

“There’s a few of us.” The bartender came over and dropped off a drink, you noticed he hadn’t ordered one. “Keep the lady’s full.”

The bartender nodded and went to make another martini.

“Are you someone important?” You were more intrigued than you wanted to let on.

“Who me?” He laughed. “I’m nobody. Tell me about you? Most people in this place don’t look so sad.”

“I hate traveling alone.” You looked down. “Tonight is my last night and work is exhausting. I want to get home and fall into my bed for the next two days until it’s back to the office.”

“Is there someone who couldn’t join you?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh no.” You laughed. “Cliché single New Yorker. I don’t own a cat though, yet.”

“Married to the job?”

“Something like that.” A fresh martini was set in front of you.

“Well if it’s your last night, how about we have some fun?” He raised his glass. “What do you have to lose?”

“I don’t even know your name.” You gave a nervous laugh. “And I’m sort of a light weight.”

“Alright.” He set his glass down. “I can take a hint.”

Guilt. He was trying to be nice.

“I mean, my name is Y/N.” You held out your hand.

“Steve.” He shook yours. “Are you sure you want a night of fun with a complete stranger?”

“Maybe by the end of the night you won’t be a stranger any more.” Were you flirting? This was not like you. Did that sound as corny out loud as it had in your head?

“Well Miss Y/L/N, I think that is a promise I can make.” He winked.

“I didn’t say my last name.” The way it had rolled off his tongue made you raise an eyebrow.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t snoop.” He slid your credit card over to you.

“Oh.” You felt silly, ruining the night already.

“It’s quite alright.” He raised his glass again. “Did you think I was some sort of stalker?”

“For a minute.” You put your hand to your forehead. “I’m sorry. I tend to think the worst sometimes.”

“Are you going to leave me hanging again?” He held his drink out.

“Sorry.” You raised your glass.

Hoping the booze would make you a little less awkward.

Your head ached as you blinked your eyes open. The fluffy white comforter wasn’t familiar. The bed softer than the one at your hotel. The sheets heaven against your skin. Skin. It was bare. Your eyes popped open all the way and the headache vanished as you sat up.

The room was gigantic, the bed a king sized modern look. It was a house, not a hotel room. Based off the way the bedroom looked you thought it may have been closer to a mansion than a home.

You looked down at the bed, seeing an empty spot where another body had been. This was embarrassing. A one night stand. You shut your eyes and tried to think of that last thing you could remember. Steve. You were at a roulette table. Your lucky number hit. You made out in front of everyone.

You cringed at the PDA. You tried to remember an Uber or a cab and came up with nothing. You reached between your legs, feeling nothing sticky or any soreness from sex. Maybe you just got naked and passed out. Your clothes.

You scanned the floor for anything, but didn’t see a single item. But something did catch you eye. Something BIG and shiny. Something on the ring finger of your left hand. You held it out in front of you. The rock was gigantic.

“What the fuck?” You whispered the question to nobody.

Then the door to the room opened, you stuck your hand under the comforter as Steve walked in with a grin on his face.

“Good morning Princess.” He had a robe on. “I was wondering when you were going to wake up.”

“What time is it?” You kept the comforter close. “I drank too much, I don’t really remember last night. This is so embarrassing. I need to get back to my hotel. I have a flight at noon. Do you know where my clothes are?”

Steve frowned as he sat on the bed.

“You canceled your flight.” He set his hand on your knee and you went to scoot away.

“What?” You struggled to piece together any bit of your memory.

“And I sent your dress to the cleaners, to have it preserved.” He squeezed down on your leg and started to slide his hand up. “Later today I’ll take you shopping. We have to get you some clothing for the honeymoon.”

“For the what?” Your eyes about budged out of your head.

“You’re so adorable.” Steve leaned over you to the night stand and picked up his phone. “I had the jet gassed up. Wheels up in six hours. That should be plenty of time.”

“I know I’m a little hungover, but you’re not making any sense.” You pressed your hand to your head.

“I’ve never seen you have more than one martini with dinner. It was fun to be there when you finally let go. We won’t be making that a regular occurrence though.” He laughed and then handed you his phone.

You saw the first picture and your stomach dropped. It was a chapel, you grinning ear to ear as you held Steve’s hands. You flipped through them and about threw up when you got to the kissing photo.

“This is real?” You held out your shaky hand with the diamond.

“Custom made. For you.” He grabbed your fingers. “A princess cut for my princess.”

“What? I just met you last night.” You shook your head.

“I explained everything last night.” Steve brought your hand to his lips and kissed. “You started showing up at my place once a month, caught my eye. I knew right away you were the one. I figured out your ring size last April. I’d been working up the courage to talk to you.”

“You are a stalker.” You tried to tug your hand away.

“No.” He gripped down harder. “Last night you thought it was cute. You were the one who demanded we get married right away, and how could I ever say no to you?”

“You’re lying.” You tried to move away, but memories were being triggered.

Him telling you how he’d been watching you. How he owned the restaurant, no the hotel! Him getting down on one knee and you peppering his face with kisses. Horror spread over you.

“We have to get an annulment.” You tugged harder, but his other hand came to the back of your head and he held you still.

“Never.” He placed a kiss on your forehead. “Don’t you remember? I carried you through the threshold. You stripped and begged me to consummate?”

You cringed and tears stung your eyes.

“You were so tempting, but I didn’t want out first time when you were drunk.” He started to kiss down your cheek. “Technically we were married after midnight, so today is our wedding date, and now we’re both sober and ready.”

He moved back and his hand went to his robe to undo the tie.

“Wait. What?” How was this happening?

You tried to look away, but he stripped down to show an amazing chiseled form. Then you saw his cock, hard and angry. You shut your eyes and the blanket was ripped away.

“No.” You moved your arms to cover yourself.

“None of that.” He grabbed your wrists and moved them to your side as he laid you down. “You’re my wife. I want to enjoy all of you.”

You opened your mouth to object, but found his lips on yours. A squeak left your lips and he used the chance to slide his tongue in. Your head was swimming as he kissed you hard, your wrists pinned to the bed as he settled between your legs.

You tried to wiggle away into the mattress, get away from him, from this bizarre situation. His cock pressed against your pussy and he started to grind his body. Kissing you as his cut ran up and down your clit.

This was wrong. He was crazy. You whipped your head to the side, forcing him to break the kiss. His lips went right for your neck and he started kissing and sucking while still sliding up and down your form.

“Stop.” You tried to close your legs wiggle away, anything to give you a chance to think. “We can’t.”

“Of course we can.” He pushed harder, making your body come alive, you nipples hardening as his chest barely grazed them with his pace. “You’re mine. My wife.”

“I…I…” You wanted to say you didn’t remember, it couldn’t be true, but memories of the night came pouring back.

You at the alter, giddy as you said the vows.

“I do.” You didn’t mean to say it out loud.

“Mmmm.” Steve bit down on your neck making you moan. “Happiest day of my life Baby.”

He pulled back and before you could think his cock was at your entrance. Your clit was teased enough your body was ready for him.

“I’m going to take such good care of you.” He pressed inside.

You wanted to scream and fight him, but you were limp. Too confused to focus a single thought that your body had taken over and there was no denying it craved him.

“Give you the life you’ve always wanted.” He slid with ease, how were your so wet? “So tight for me. The only girl I’ll have for the rest of forever.”

A moan left your throat. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fight, beg him to stop. Do anything to make sense of this. He lessened the grip on your wrists, but you didn’t even try to lift your hands as he filled you.

“You’re mine. All mine. Forever.” He bottomed out and your body shook to accommodate him.

Steve was the largest you’d ever taken and he felt amazing. The physicalness started to drown out your mental hang ups.

“A lifetime of fucking you.” He pulled out slow before pushing back in with a quick thrust, grinding you into the mattress. “I’ve waited so long for you Princess. Perfect for me.”

His little love notes made you gasp.

“That’s it.” He kissed up your chin. “What a good wife you are already. Taking me this way.”

Hearing his praise messed with you even more.

When he drove against you he started to rock his pelvis against your clit, not pulling out and all, teasing your ecstasy even further.

“I’m going to spoil the fuck out of you.” He continued to move in a way that sent electricity through you. “Whatever you want it’s yours.”

You were turning into a breathy mess under him. Wanting what he was saying.

“And I know what you want right now Princess.” His cock was hitting your spots in the right way as his body drove your clit crazy. “Say it and it’s yours.”

“I want to cum.” You didn’t think when you spit the words out.

“Oh what a good girl I have.” He started to move faster.

His body was inhuman. Making short little thrusts while still grinding against your clit. He let go of your wrists and you brought your hands to his back, needing something to hold on to as your orgasm approached.

Your head lulled and he brought a hand to your chin, turning it to face him. He kissed you, demanding and consuming while his body owned yours. You couldn’t handle it any longer and passion flooded you.

You became a willing participant kissing him, moving with him, taking what your body craved. Not just your body, your mind, your soul. It hit hard and fast an earthquake couldn’t compare to the way you convulsed around him.

When your vision and reality came back he was above you, watching your face.

“The first of many.” His blue eyes flashed.

Your body didn’t have time to recover before he was railing into you. A second orgasm already forming underneath him. You needed it. You needed him. Forever.

It never occurred to you that a person could have such stamina. By the time Steve came you were a mess. Sweaty and over pleasured. You found yourself curled against his chest, your finger with the diamond tracing up and down his muscles as he held you.

“We should get ready for the flight.” He kissed your head.

“Uh-huh.”

Married life looked good.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #marvel #marvel fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #Steve rogers au #steve rogers fanfiction

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ilovemesomekillianjones · 4 years

Text

Good Things Come to Those Who Talk

It’s been a long time since I’ve written, but the muse visited this week, so here is a fluffy and smutty Captain Swan one shot. I’m sure this trope has been written one millions ways, here is one million and one. Hope you like it. Although I am not around as much as I used to be, CS still remains my OTP and always will.

ao3 ffnet rated M 8.9K

Summary: Emma Swan is so over her brother, he warns every cop he knows to stay away from her. She's pined for so long though, she wants Killian Jones, it's just double bad luck that he's a cop and he happens to be David's partner. She decides her brother's wrath is worth the risk to find out if there's something more for her and Killian. Now all she needs is a new dress and a plan.

“Emma Swan, you little slut! What has gotten into you?” Ruby screeched as Emma pulled the door to her home open.

“Is it too much?” Emma asked with just a touch of hysteria coloring her voice. She hurried back to her bedroom to give herself the once over… again. Running her hands down the newly purchased, skin tight, black mini dress, she followed each and every curve that was on full display.

“Girl, I would do you if I didn’t already have a girlfriend.”

“Not helping, Ruby!”

“Emma, you look fucking hot, there is not a man on earth that could turn you down in that.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for,” she mumbled under her breath. Tonight was the night. She’d danced around the longing and heat between her and Killian Jones for long enough. She’d been pining for this man for longer than she could remember, half the time they spent together felt like they were a couple anyway. She already knew her stupid brother, David, had warned Killian Jones to stay away from her, but there was nothing stopping her from putting the moves on Killian Jones. She just hoped Ruby was right, that no man would be able to resist her, including the one who’d been threatened with death if he so much as laid one finger on her. Emma was undeniably hoping for far more than one finger. A shiver jolted through her and she was brought back to the present.

“Someone’s got it baaaad,” Ruby teased. “You gonna make your move tonight?”

“That’s the plan,” Emma said as she grabbed her knee length black leather jacket and tied it closed. She pulled her flowing, golden tresses from the jacket and tossed them over her shoulders.

“Well then let’s get this party started!” With that, Ruby grabbed Emma’s hand and pulled her back to the front of the house and out the door.

The Rabbit Hole was their favorite local pub, and the only place to celebrate the hot shot detectives who’d made the biggest bust this city had ever seen. Of course it was the hot shot team of Detectives Nolan and Jones to bring down the infamous Robert “The Deal Maker” Gold and his outfit of miscreants. Earlier this morning, both men had received the Medal of Valor, for extraordinary acts of bravery and heroism, performed in the line of duty at extreme life-threatening, personal risk, their Captain had said.

Emma remembered that day three weeks ago, when she’d received the call from her sister-in-law. The baby had been wailing in the background as Mary Margaret had tried to tell Emma, through choked sobs that David was in the hospital. No doubt the little guy had been so upset because his mama was having a justified meltdown.

When Emma had arrived, Killian was in the waiting room, a little bloodied, bruised, and banged up, but he’d insisted on waiting for her before letting the doctors examine him. He’d wanted to let her know that David was in surgery, but he’d be okay, and Mary Margaret had just left to drop her two year old off at Belle’s so he didn’t have to wait in the ER. It wasn’t until Killian’s body had slumped against hers that Emma realized he wasn’t doing as well as he’d pretended. She’d found out later, Killian had been hit by Gold’s car as the fiend had tried to make a run for it.

Emma doesn’t like to think about the panic she’d felt as he was hauled behind the swinging doors of the ER. She doesn’t like to remember the tears that had fallen when the thought that she’d never gotten to tell him how she felt for him, crossed her mind. She especially doesn’t like to think about how he’d been out of the hospital for three weeks now, and she’d still been too chicken shit to even ask him out on a date, let alone tell him that she’s crazy about him.

Once Killian’s internal bleeding had stopped and he was cleared to go home, she’d helped him convalesce through a dislocated shoulder and severely bruised ribs. He’d gotten remarkably lucky considering he was hit by a car. Hours of flirting and bantering, movies on his couch, meals together, and she hadn’t scraped together the courage to tell him how she felt. She’d picked him up and attended the medal pinning with him today, and still she couldn’t find any words to tell him how she felt. When he’d come down off the stage, walked toward her and scooped her up into a bear hug, all she’d come up with was how proud she was of him. Even though it was true, there was so much more she wanted to say. And she’d known long before any of this had happened, she’d just never considered moving past her fear of rejection or risking their friendship for a chance at something more until she’d felt like she might lose him.

That thought made her feel pretty shitty. But that’s when she’d decided a few things. Emma Swan was shit with words. Actions speak louder than words. Tonight was the night. And she needed a new dress.

Taking a deep breath as the car pulled into the parking lot, to center her thoughts, fortify her determination, and get her collective shit together, Emma stepped out of Ruby’s car with something akin to hope.

Upon entering the noisy bar, she searched for the woman who’d be lending her an assist tonight. Regina and her husband Robin, a retired police officer, now owned this bar. They were close personal friends with Emma’s brother’s family, as David’s former partner, and by extension, with the whole group. Regina would be the one taking care of their party tonight. Emma needed to square some drinking details away with the woman and then she’d be mission ready. After talking to Regina, she glanced around the crowded bar, searching for the man of the hour. Whatever confidence or hope had been building, promptly deflated as she located Killian, only to find him sitting at the bar with some handsy redhead whispering in his ear.

“Emma!” She heard Mary Margaret’s voice call out from across the bar, but she couldn’t turn, she was transfixed, watching as the woman ran a finger along Killian’s jawline. It gave her just an ounce of pleasure when he removed her hand from his vicinity and placed it on the bar. The mystery woman was undeterred though as she placed her hand on his chest next.

Mary Margaret called her name again, louder this time, and Emma noticed it caught Killian’s attention as he began to scan the bar. When his eyes met hers, they immediately lit up and he mouthed the word help, with desperation in his every feature. Emma’s confidence restored, she sashayed toward him with renewed determination.

Goddamn, she thought as she appreciated how Killian’s royal blue button down shirt and black slacks were tailored to his body. She bit down on her lip when she noted that he definitely had his customary one too many buttons undone and was displaying that magically delicious thatch of chest hair she’d imagined running her hands through just a couple times. Sauntering right in between the two, she settled in the spot of his perpetually manspread legs and placed her palms on his thighs, leaving her back to the other woman.

“Hey Sexy, where’ve you been all my life?” she asked in the sexiest tone she could muster while also trying not to crack up as she laid it on thick for the woman trying to steal her man. What?

“Right here, waiting for you, love,” Killian answered, wrapping an arm around her waist. The man didn’t miss a beat.

Emma couldn’t be bothered to feel bad as she rubbed her palms over his muscular thighs which currently rested on her hips. She had a mission tonight, and this floozy behind her had been throwing herself at Killian.

“I’m so lucky someone didn’t come and scoop you up before I got here.”

Emma almost melted when he came right back with, “No one else is you.”

She knew this man, had known him for several years. She knew when he was playing a long con, when he was bullshitting, when he was joking, when he was serious, and when he was sincere. Her heartbeat stuttered as his earnest expression dared her to believe him. Just at that moment, the drinks Killian had ordered arrived. “Come on,” she said, grabbing the three beer bottles in one hand and taking his hand in her other.

“Let me order a couple more, now that the rest of you are here.”

Emma leaned in to whisper in his ear, “And leave you at the mercy of Hands, I don’t think so.” If she wasn’t mistaken, Killian actually shivered, and she wondered how bad it had gotten before she’d arrived. When she stepped back though, she noticed a bright flush along Killian’s cheeks, and she wondered if she wasn’t causing that shiver and blush. “I’ll order when the server comes around.”

Emma was positively rippling with anticipation of what Killian would think of her dress as they walked over to the private room Mary Margaret had reserved for tonight. The bar had several private rooms off each corner of the bar, they were a little less noisy, and perfect for celebratory drinks. This one had a large round booth and table in it, so Emma slid in next to her brother, pulling Killian in behind her. Strategically speaking, she was hoping David couldn’t stare daggers at Killian from this angle, like he always did when Emma and Killian were hanging out and getting too close for his comfort. She didn’t need her stupid brother ruining her plans.

“Here love, you can have this beer,” Killian offered as they sat down.

“That’s okay, I can wait for the server.” Emma was not in the mood to get drunk, at least not drunk for real. “Are Will and Belle still coming tonight?” Emma asked as she untied her jacket and leaned forward to take it off while still seated in the confines of the booth.

Killian audibly choked on the swig of beer he’d been taking when he caught a glimpse of all the skin Emma was now showing. One false move and there could be a nip slip, really.

“Hey, Jones, you okay there buddy? Emma, quick, give him mouth to mouth, he’s choking,” she harassed.

Emma shot her a look before slapping Killian on the back a couple times. “My ribs,” he croaked once he’d finished hacking and coughing.

Emma preened as she noticed he still hadn’t taken his eyes off her. “You gonna be okay?” she asked, turning fully toward Killian as she soothingly rubbed her hand along his rib cage.

“Love your new dress, Ems,” Ruby exclaimed, adding fuel to multiple fires.

“New dress? Are you sure you got the whole thing?” David fumed. “Looks more like a tank top to me. And yes, to answer your question from before, Will and Belle are coming, their Lyft was running late.”

Emma looked over her shoulder to scowl at her brother, and he scowled right back. “I happen to like this dress, David,” she said, saying his name as pettily as any sister could, “what about you Killian. Do you like my new dress?”

Killian’s hand immediately shot up to scratch behind his ear, but before he could even speak a word, David leaned forward, peered around Emma and stared those oh so familiar daggers at Killian.

“Oh stop it, David,” Mary Margaret chided her husband.

“Oi mates, hope you didn’t start the party without me,” Will shouted as he and Belle entered the room. He and Belle scooted into the booth next to Ruby and Mulan, and Emma was thankful they’d arrived before David could start ranting about not wanting his sister to date a cop.

Emma, Mary Margaret, Belle, and Ruby had all been promised a play by play of the Gold bust now that the case was finalized, Gold had been sentenced, and everyone was healed. Will and Mulan hadn’t been injured, but they’d been part of the task force, and instrumental in the take down. Emma tried not to concentrate too hard on the fact that she was the only female here who wasn’t technically a significant other. Besides, maybe that would change after tonight.

A round of shots was ordered to start the evening and Regina brought them to the table, handing a shot of rum to each guest. They toasted to the takedown of the felon who had run rampant like a virus, for far too long. The story was intense to be sure, and a second round of shots was ordered to toast the health and safety of David, Killian, Mulan, and Will.

When the live band started, they headed for the dance floor and Emma was thankful to have a bit of privacy, albeit in the middle of a crowded dance floor, with Killian. “You cut quite the figure in that dress,” he whispered into her ear.

The band was covering a latin number and Emma melted as Killian pulled her in close. His left hand was on the small of her back and the other held her free hand. Her free hand rested on his chest, right at the juncture of his too unbuttoned shirt.

“I don’t know exactly how to do this… dance,” Emma mumbled as Killian began to move his feet. They were connected at their hips as they swayed with the beat.

“It’s called a mambo; there’s only one rule, pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

She’d danced with him before and it never ceased to amaze her how well the man could move his body. If he was this fluid and skilled while dancing, what could he do in bed?

“I can see your mind working, Swan. What are you thinking about?”

Emma tried to stop the blush, but she’d definitely been caught ogling him. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Perhaps I would,” he admitted while sweeping a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You are blushing,” he added as he trailed the finger down her cheek.

“I was just thinking, if you’re this good on the-” Emma’s breath was knocked from her as David and Mary Margaret careened into them.

“Hey guys,” David shouted over the music, “time for shots.”

Emma just barely stopped herself from yelling at her brother to stop being a cockblock. Instead, she settled for stomping on his foot as she led Killian off the dancefloor. They all lined up at the bar and Regina doled out more shots.

“I’m ready to go home,” Emma slurred into Killian’s shoulder several hours later. “Take me home?”

“Aye, love.”

“I thought Ruby was your ride,” David interrupted.

“No can do, Davey,” Ruby mumbled. “Me and my baby are staying at the hotel across the street so we don’t have to drive and we don’t have to come back for the car tomorrow.

“We will take you home,” David proclaimed, as if someone had died and made him king.

“That’s ridiculous, we’re already taking Belle and Will home,” Mary Margaret told her husband. “Killian hasn’t been drinking for the last two hours, he can take Emma home.”

“Bu-” David started.

“I know we have five seats, but we don’t need to squish five adults into them, when Killian can give Emma a ride.”

Emma snickered at the way Mary Margaret effortlessly handled David.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” David muttered.

After the group said their goodbyes, Emma let Killian lead her to his truck. She pretended to need much more help getting in than she really did. Under the guise of being drunk, Emma found she was much braver. If he turned her down, she could always pretend she was so drunk she didn’t remember, and if he was a gentleman, which he was, he’d never mention it.

Reaching across the space between them, Emma brushed the hair away from his forehead. “I was so worried about you when you were in the hospital,” she whispered, making sure to slur a word here and there.

“I’m sorry I worried you, lass, but you needn’t worry about me.”

“I do worry about you, Killian. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well, in your inebriated state, I’m sure it’s hard to imagine, but I am sure you’d manage.”

“What a horrible thing to say! I would not be okay if I lost you, I would never be okay.”

Killian clasped his hand over hers, which had been idly stroking his cheek. “Shhh, love, there’s no need to discuss this topic anyway. If there is one thing I am good at, it’s surviving.”

Killian pulled into her driveway and hastily exited to help her down from the truck. She definitely put more weight on him than was strictly necessary and sloppily handed him the keys to unlock her door.

“Someone is going to be feeling like shite in the morning,” Killian laughed.

Emma played it up, and allowed Killian to get Tylenol and water for her as she stripped out of her dress and hopped into her bed.

“Call me if you need anything, yeah?” he checked as he set her hangover supplies on her nightstand.

Emma caught his hand as he went to put it in his pocket. “Stay with me?”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Please,” Emma asked sweetly, looking up at him with all the hope she felt inside written clearly on her face.

Killian exhaled a long sigh as only a man who knows he’s lost can. Circling around the bed, he started to climb in behind her.

“You’re not going to sleep in jeans, are you?”

“I don’t exactly have sleepwear at my disposal, Swan. And you’re sleeping in your dress.”

Emma laughed at that, that’s what he thinks. “Take off your jeans, boxer briefs are just like shorts.” She grinned triumphantly as she heard the metal of his belt and the rustling of pants being dropped.

Once he was settled in her bed, she turned over and snuggled against him. The groan he emitted when she did so shot a bolt of heat straight to her core. She knew he was just as affected as she was, and that was hot.

“Emma, please, you’re making it very hard fo-”

“That’s kinda the point,” she giggled, pressing her body against his and snaking her free hand into the opening of his shirt to rake it through his chest hair.

“Fuck me,” he muttered.

“Yeah?”

“Poor choice of words,” he corrected as he scooted away from her advances. “We can’t do this.”

Emma immediately felt the sting of his words in her chest, like someone was gripping her heart, or worse, like someone had taken it and she was hollow. A flurry of emotions ran through her as she tried to assure herself she still had her failsafe of “being drunk”. She searched for words. “Why? Because of my stupid brother?” she demanded, her voice a little more watery than angry.

“This has nothing to do with your brother, Swan.”

“Then… why?” Emma sat up in bed and pulled the blankets tightly around her body, as if they’d protect her from whatever hurtful reason he had for not wanting her.

“Because you’re drunk and-”

“Well-” Emma interrupted.

“No, wait, let me finish. Before I lose my nerve.”

Emma frowned at him, but complied by sitting quietly.

“You’ve been drinking all night love, and I would never forgive myself if I took advantage of you in this state and then you regretted it in the morning, if you regretted me. I… I’m crazy about you Emma, I have been for a long time. I don’t want a drunken one night stand with you, hell, I don’t want any kind of one night stand with you. I want… more.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” she asked softly.

“Short answer? I’m a coward.”

“What if I want to know the extended version?” she asked as she patted the seat next to her and offered him part of the blankets so he could join her.

Killian got back into the bed and sat up against the headboard as Emma was. “I guess I’ve hid behind your brother’s warning to stay away from you. I mean, he’s not wrong, it can be a hard life being with a cop. Look what happened with Gold. I also worried about jeopardizing our friendship, especially if you didn’t feel the same way about me.”

“Why now?”

Killian chuckled before answering her. “You being drunk gives me the courage to say how I feel, because you might not even remember this in the morning.”

Emma dropped all pretense of being inebriated and leaned forward so she was looking straight into the depths of the eyes she dreamed about almost nightly. “Let’s get something straight, okay? I could never regret you, Killian Jones.” Placing a hand softly on his cheek, she smiled at the awestruck look on his face. “And also, I haven’t had a drink all night. I paid Regina to fill my shots with apple juice. I just needed the cover of liquid courage to try and seduce you because I am shit with words. And I figured if you didn’t feel the same, I could always pretend that I didn’t remember the next day.”

Killian’s warm laughter startled her a bit, but then she was laughing with him. “I usually have a flair with words, Swan, you just do something to me that brings me to my basest form. I’m a goner for you, and I wish I’d have told you sooner.”

“Well, get used to me not being great with words. I’m sort of caveman-like. I mean, I’m not gonna point and grunt, but I definitely use action over words. But if I can paraphrase a great wordsmith, ‘I’m crazy about you, Killian, I have been for a long time’.”

The smile that lit up Killian’s face, dimples and all, was worth the hell she was going to go through with David.

“In the spirit of full disclosure, I never got a chance to answer you at the bar. I love your new dress, may I see it again,” he asked, gently tugging at the blankets she’d wrapped around herself for protection a few moments ago.

“Hmmm, sorry, not right now...” Killian immediately dropped his hand from the blanket and began to tell her it’s okay, when she peeled away the blanket, and continued, “because I’m not wearing it anymore.”

“Fuck me,” he murmured before biting down on his lip hungrily.

“Still the plan.”

♡~♥~♡~♥~♡

“Stand up, love, let me see you.”

Emma complied, standing up and bearing herself to him. She was clad in nothing more than lacy, black panties and a matching bra. Watching as he perused every inch of her body, from the swell of her breasts, to her lean torso and soft belly, then down to the apex of her thighs, she could see his length swelling under his boxer briefs, and every part of her wanted him. Crooking her finger, she beckoned him to her, and it was his turn to comply.

Once Killian stood before her, Emma unbuttoned the remainder of his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, to the floor. Then she did something that shocked her a little bit, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him close and just held him; he immediately reciprocated, both arms encircling her and bringing her close. The feelings they’d just spoken floated around them and flowed between them.

Threading her fingers into his hair, she guided his mouth to hers and kissed him, softly and exploratorily at first. But as lips gave way to caressing tongues, and roaming hands, heat built and Emma found herself panting and breathless.

Killian unclasped her bra and pulled it away and she was never more grateful for that barrier to be gone, as his chest hair delicately tightened her nipples and sent sparks shooting to her core. She wanted more and made it known by grabbing his ass with both hands and hauling him firmly to her. Killian glided his hands down her back and over her firm ass while sucking a nipple into his mouth. She moaned his name at the sensation of his wet mouth laving at her breasts, and his fingers and palms caressing the smooth expanse of her ass. Emma wanted that last barrier gone, she reached between them to remove first her panties and then finally his boxer briefs.

She was not disappointed when she finally got a look at what her Detective was packing. Emma licked her lips as his cock stood at full attention, straining with the need to be touched.

“See something you like, darling?”

There was that hint of cockiness that she loved so much. “Yeah,” she breathed as she dropped to her knees. Wrapping her hand around the base of his cock, Emma stroked up and down a few times, relishing in the hiss that left Killian’s mouth. When his head dropped back, she pounced, taking him deep and swallowing once, before pulling back and then setting a slow rhythmic pace.

Killian lifted her from her knees and attacked her mouth with kisses, between trying to speak, “You don’t have to do that.”

Emma pulled her head back to stare at this man in front of her. What guy turns down head? “I know I don’t have to, I was enjoying myself,” she said, then she pushed into his frame, guiding him backwards until he could sit at the edge of the bed. She dropped to her knees again, and smirked before descending on him once more, but before she could even set a rhythm, he was halting her ministrations again.

“Okay, that’s twice. What’s up, Jones? Do you not enjoy getting head? Do I suck at it, and not in the good way?” Emma sat back on her calves, folding her arms around herself.

“On the contrary, you are magnificent at sucking my cock, Emma.”

She grinned mischievously at the compliment, a swarm of relief flooding her mind. “Then what gives?”

“I haven’t...” Killian trailed off, and an actual blush colored his cheeks as he tried to find the words he was looking for.

Emma put her hands on his knees and gently squeezed. “What is it? You can tell me.”

“I haven’t been with anyone in a while, I’ve kind of been saving myself for this brilliant lass I know. Plus, I’ve been hard since you took your jacket off at the bar and I don’t wish to finish before you,” he admitted. He rubbed nervously behind his ear as he waited for her reaction.

Emma was a little speechless. At no point in her life had she ever been with a man who was so dedicated to her gratification, he would deny his own. She’d definitely never been halted in the middle of a blow job so that her needs could be met. She stood up, taking Killian with her and then turned them around so that she could lie down on the bed. Holding her hand out to him, she pulled him down next to her and then scooted so that they were laying face to face. “Make me come, Killian.”

Needing no further guidance, Killian captured her lips in a fiery kiss while situating her on her back. Their tongues slid together effortlessly until he broke the kiss to blaze a trail down her body. She would definitely have marks, but he was careful to leave them where only they would see. As he paid special attention to her breasts again, delighting way too much in the noises she made, Emma finally caved, begging for more.

Scooting down between her legs, Killian took stock of the pretty picture splayed out for him. “Absolutely gorgeous,” he murmured. Ever so gently, he ran the tip of his finger along her glistening folds, parting them as his finger ran further down, exposing her clit to the cool air.

“Please Killian, touch me.”

“As you wish.”

Emma keened in half relief and half need as his tongue finally made contact with her clit. She thrust her hips, needing nothing short of penetration, and again, she was obviously hoping for more than just one finger. She wasn’t disappointed when Killian filled her with two digits as he worked her clit with his tongue.

Emma fisted a handful of Killian’s dark hair as he brought her a pleasure like none she’d experienced before. It was hot as hell to have him watching her with those devilish blue eyes gazing up from between her thighs as she fucked his fingers.

Emma had never been much of a talker in bed, but she found it easy with Killian to ask for more, to ask for it harder, and because of that, he had her falling over the edge of oblivion quickly.

“Get up here, now,” she panted, once her mind came back from the haze of post orgasmic delight.

“Gods, you taste divine,” he praised as he moved over her body, settling between her legs so they were face to face.

“You are really good at that, better than I could ever have imagined.”

“Oh, Emma,” he began as he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and bit down gently before letting it go, “do elaborate on ‘imagined’,” he smirked before grinding his hips down so his thick length slid through her folds and over her clit.

A breathy moan rushed past her lips as he teased her. “Yeah? You want to hear all about how I get myself off while thinking of you?”

“Aye, lass, tell me.”

“Mmmmm, sometimes it’s quick and dirty, fucking my fingers, wishing they were yours. Other times I imagine you bend me over your desk at the precinct and take me roughly. But the best is edging while wondering if you’re lying in bed thinking about me, stroking your hard cock. I always finally make myself come, pleading your name as I picture you making yourself come all over your chest, calling out my name.”

“Christ, Emma, I’m going to come all over your chest if you tell me any more.”

In a flash of motion, Emma flipped them so she was on top, staring down at Killian. “We can’t have that.” Leaning down, she kissed him roughly, demanding his tongue, while situating his cock so she could sink down on it. “Oh… fuck you feel so good,” she gasped as his full length hit a depth she’d never felt without toys. Her hands found purchase on his chest as she adjusted to his size.

She let Killian set the pace after he grasped both her hips and guided her along. He was mesmerized by the way his cock slid in and out of her wet heat. “You feel so good wrapped around me,” he praised.

Killian pulled her down for a kiss again, and flipped them so he was on top. Emma whined as he withdrew from her completely and sat back on his haunches. “I’ve just realized I don’t have a condom,” he said defeatedly.

“That’s okay, I’m on the pill and I’m clean. You clean?”

“Aye, lass. On my honor.”

“Then put every inch of that cock back inside me,” she demanded as she pulled him back into the cradle of her thighs.

Emma laughed lightly as Killian groaned loudly while pushing back into her. “Just so you know, love, this feels so much better than any time I’ve ever taken myself in hand while thinking of you. And I always come with your name on my lips.”

Her answering smile turned into a low moan as Killian pulled out and then thrust back home. He changed the tempo, long deep passes, quick pounding thrusts, grinding his hips into her sometimes, and pumping shallowly others. She made sure to let him know what felt good and what felt better, and especially what was, “Oh fuck, yes, right there!”

Despite never having been together before, the combination of Emma knowing what she liked, being comfortable enough to ask for it, and Killian listening to her and taking care of her, had them riding the same wave, feeling, exploring, loving.

In the end, Killian had both her legs pulled up high around his waist, arms under her shoulders, and his face buried in the crook of her neck as he methodically drove into her, determined to make her come again.

Emma had her legs wrapped tightly around his torso, her arms around his neck, and her head thrown back into the pillow. They were a hot sweaty mess, and she was sure she’d never been wound this tight, she’d never been this turned on,maybe there was something to sex with feelings. His hot breath against her neck caused a tightness in her nipples and a tingling in her clit. Killian’s thrusts were punishing, hitting her deep, and she was so close and she knew he was close and she really wanted to come again.

“Touch yourself, Emma, I want to feel you come all over my cock.”

An errant bit of relief flooded her as she realized Killian was not intimidated in asking for what he wanted either and he wasn’t too macho to ask her to help get them there. Now was not the time for reflection though, and so she pushed those delightful thoughts to an area for later. Reaching down between them, Emma gathered the arousal that coated her thighs and started rubbing her fingers over her clit. “Almost, Killian, almo- Oh, Ooooh,” Emma cried.

It was almost ridiculous how in sync they were, each gracing the edge of ecstasy before plummeting off one after the other, calling the other’s name like a benediction. She’d been right, his moves on the dance floor had definitely foreshadowed his performance in bed. And just like the attentive gentleman he was day-to-day, he was the same in bed, making sure to guide her through every aftershock, and hold her as she came down from on high.

“Bloody Hell, why did we wait so long to do this?” Killian panted against her neck, before rolling off of her. “Come here,” he said, pulling Emma against his side.

Instead of nestling into him, Emma stood up and stretched deliciously. “So, I guess, I’ll umm... see you around?” A mixture of shock, disappointment, and embarrassment crossed his face before he quickly jumped out of bed. The look was priceless, she really did feel heartless, but she couldn’t resist teasing him a little.

“Right, love,” he mumbled as he turned from her and grabbed his slacks off the floor.

Emma tiptoed behind him and circled her arms around his waist, his whole body was taught. “I’m fucking with you, Jones,” she said gently, pressing her cheek to his back. “Join me for a shower?” As his body relaxed, she placed a few kisses between his shoulder blades causing him to shiver.

He turned in her arms and took her mouth in a hungry kiss. “You are a devilish little minx, aren’t you?”

“I couldn’t resist,” she mumbled into his mouth. “Come on, let’s go get clean… and dirty.”

“Do you promise to tell me more dirty little fantasies?”

A blush ran up her body as she remembered telling Killian her favorite fantasy about him.

“Don’t get shy now. For someone who says they’re shite with words, you were certainly very chatty in bed.

“Oh my gosh, Killian.” She rolled her eyes and smacked his chest as mortification coursed through her. She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the shower, but found herself being swung back into his chest.

Killian wrapped his arms around her middle and pressed his front to her back in a sensual embrace. “Don’t you dare ever feel ashamed to tell me exactly what you want, love. If you want it harder,” he thrust his hips against her ass to elaborate, “if you want it deeper,” he growled, sucking at the lobe of her ear, “if you want my mouth between your thighs…”

Emma moaned as Killian continued rutting his hips against her ass and caressing her with his strong hands. She hung on his every word.

“If you want to watch me stroke my cock,” he said huskily, “just say the words.”

“Fuck, Killian. I want you to fuck me again,” she responded breathily. Taking his hand and pulling him toward the shower again, she met no resistance this time.

Reaching into the shower she turned the water on full blast and then turned around and jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist to kiss him while they waited for it to warm up.

He took her again, against the wall of her shower, then they made out until the water began to cool, before they both fell into bed, sated and exhausted.

♡~♥~♡~♥~♡

Emma hummed happily as she stood at the stove making pancakes. Killian was still sound asleep in her bed, the hint of a smile playing at his lips, and a hard case of morning wood if the slight tent of the sheets was anything to judge by. As much as she’d wanted to wake him up with salacious activities, she’d also wanted to let him sleep in. So she’d silently slipped into her black silk robe and headed to the kitchen to make coffee and breakfast. Her mind kept jumping to different parts of their evening together, and how much she hoped for a repeat performance.

An unadulterated smile broke out across her face when Killian’s husky voice broke through her morning musings. “Something smells delicious.”

The way he nuzzled into her made her weak in the knees as she protested the compliment. “It’s just from a box.”

“Mmm,” he hummed against her ear, “I’m not talking about the pancakes.”

Emma spun in his arms and leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss him. Her mind was spinning, it was a little shocking to her that she wasn’t panicking at all about how much they’d discussed last night and how deep their feelings ran for each other. She realized she wasn’t afraid because what they had was worth taking the risk for. Breaking the kiss, she peered into his beautiful blue eyes. Eyes full of emotions that she knew mirrored her own. And the absolutely boyish grin gracing his face made her heart soar.

“What?” he asked as she continued gazing at him.

“Nothing, I’m just... happy.”

“Aye, love, me too.”

Emma leaned in to kiss him again, this time parting her mouth and begging entrance to his as she stroked the seam of his lips with her tongue. “To hell with the pancakes,” she muttered when he opened to her, tongues tangling together. Carding her fingers through his hair, only their breathing and wet kisses filled the air as she pushed him back toward the table until he was sitting with her nestled between his legs.

Untying her robe, Killian caressed his hands up and down the lush skin of her torso before greedily pulling her against him, showing her how ready she had him, not that it was hard to tell through his boxer briefs.

“I smell pancakes. I thought we were eating on the way to the zoo?” a masculine voice said, cutting through the moment.

“David!” Emma gasped.

“Your brother has a key, good to know,” Killian muttered. Emma dropped her head into Killian’s shoulder, willing this to be a dream. That was quickly shattered when she heard Mary Margaret’s voice.

“Are we interrupting something,” Mary Margaret asked, eyes wide as saucers and a smirk begging to be let out.

“EmEm! Killy!” little Leo cooed.

David’s hands had immediately found his hips, as they quite often did before interrogating a suspect. Although the look on his face looked more like he was preparing to beat a perp. “What the… I mean… What’s go- Why the hell is he- Goddammit!” he roared, throwing his hands up in the air, and the toddler snuggled in Mary Margaret’s arms immediately started crying at his father’s outburst. “I thought I said she was off limits?”

“Hey!” Mary Margaret and Emma both yelled. As Emma stepped away from Killian to give her brother a piece of her mind, Killian quickly grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. Neither missed the huff of exasperation from David, but both ignored it. Killian quickly folded Emma’s robe over and tied it closed before giving her an attempted wink.

She smiled that happy smile at him before returning a scowl to her brother. “I am not a possession, David. You’re not my father, you’re not my husband, and you’re not my keeper! You don’t get to tell me who I can and cannot be with.” She was outright yelling as she finished.

“I’m not,” he boomed. “I’m telling Killian he can’t be with you. I don’t want you with a cop, Emma!”

“Why is being with a cop good enough for your wife, the one you share a love so pure with and would lay down your life for, but being with a cop isn’t okay for me?”

“It’s not like that, Emma,” David argued.

“Oh yeah? Then what’s it like? I’m dying to understand,” she retorted.

“I’m just trying to protect you.”

“From what?” When David made no move to answer, she shouted her question louder at him. “From what!?”

“Daddy, EmEm, no fight,” Leo cried.

“Emma,” Killian called softly and she turned to look at his calming blue eyes. He was quite the site, clad only in his skivvies, both hands strategically placed over his package. “Let’s get dressed. You both could use a minute to calm down.”

“That’s a great idea,” Mary Margaret piped in. “Take five, we’ll finish making breakfast. You still have that leftover ham from the other night?”

Emma nodded at her sister-in-law, then she and Killian headed toward her bedroom.

“Where are you going, Jones,” David seethed.

“Where the fuck do you think his clothes are, David,” Emma cursed.

Once in the bedroom, Killian pulled Emma into his arms. “Hey, we are going to make him understand, okay. There’s no reason to fight with him. Let’s make him understand. Hear him out, whatever his reasons, and then show him why he’s wrong.”

“No, Killian. He’s being an absolute dick. He has no right to tell me what to do. And I hate whatever his reasons are. I don’t care.”

Killian placed a hand on each of her cheeks and looked into her eyes, before planting a soft kiss to her lips. “Yes you do, love. And we can figure this out.”

Admittedly, some of her anger faded as Killian talked of understanding and explaining and communication. She walked to her dresser and pulled out one of his old t-shirts she’d borrowed at a party at his place.

“You still have this?” he chuckled.

“It smelled like you for a long time after I borrowed it, I like sleeping in it.”

“That party was over a year ago,” he mused.

“I told you, I’ve wanted…,” she paused, trying to find a better word for how she’d felt for so long. “I’ve really liked you for a long time, Killian.”

He slipped the t-shirt over his head before descending on her and kissing her fully. “Maybe almost for as long as I’ve fancied you.”

She just giggled at that, hugging him for fortification before taking his hand and heading back out into the battle zone.

“Wait, I still don’t have pants.”

Emma led him to the guest room.“David and Mary Margaret keep extra clothes here for when they don’t decide early enough who is going to be designated driver.”

“I don’t think Mary Margaret’s pants will fit me, darling.”

“Shut up you goofball,” she laughed as she threw him a pair of David’s sweatpants.

“Let’s sit down and eat, and discuss this like adults,” Mary Margaret, always the mother, ordered everyone when Emma and Killian emerged.

She’d finished cooking the pancakes, whipped up a batch of scrambled eggs, and was just finishing frying up the leftover ham. David was pouring a round of coffee for everyone and holding Leo who was happily babbling now that he had a pancake in his hand and no one was yelling.

After strapping the baby into the portable high chair they kept at Emma’s place, everyone sat down at the table and dug into breakfast.

“Can you just tell me what you think you’re protecting me from?” Emma asked. “I mean you trust Killian with your life, literally. Why don’t you trust him with my heart?”

David’s stoic expression lightened at that. “Does he have your heart, Emma?”

Killian glanced toward Emma and smiled knowingly. They didn’t need to call it love right this instant, but they were definitely invested in each other.

“Answer the question, dear,” Mary Margaret prodded. “Otherwise they don’t have the truth, because trusting Killian has nothing to do with it, and you know it.”

“Fine,” David sighed. “You dealt with abandonment by your own parents, by every subsequent foster parent, by the only friend you made as a child, who turned out to be a fraud, and then with Neal’s betrayal, which almost broke you. I don’t want you to ever experience that abandonment again.” David’s voice broke as he finished explaining. Tears rimmed his eyes as he contemplated even trying to understand what she’d been through. And he would be damned before it happened again, especially by someone who he’d introduced into her life.

“What?” Emma asked incredulously. “That has everything to do with trusting Killian,” she argued. “Why do you assume he’d abandon me.”

Leo quieted as the tension between siblings started to grow again and Mary Margaret looked around the table, jaw clenched and a warning in her eyes to every adult at the table to not upset her baby again.

Killian placed his hand over Emma’s white knuckles where her fist lay balled up on the table. “I don’t think he means I would intentionally leave you, Swan.”

Emma looked between her brother and Killian, a confused furrow cocking her brows.

David chuckled, “See, he gets it.”

“Explain, David. Make her understand where you’re coming from,” his wife urged him.

Wait, Emma thought, it was supposed to be the other way around. She was supposed to be making him understand why she and Killian were a good, no great, thing. Before she could speak though, David started up again.

“Emma, you really think no one sees how much you two are into each other? You really think for almost two years, no one has watched the way you pine for each other, flirt off the charts, tease each other like kids on a playground? You’re like an old married couple half the time, we’d have to be blind not to see it. Killian is a good man, I understand he’d never purposefully hurt you, he’d have to deal with me if he did. But you have to understand that officers die in the line of duty all the time. Being with one means you accept that risk. I couldn’t bear the thought of you losing one more person you loved, especially if it was someone I brought into your life.”

A tear or two trailed down Emma’s cheeks as she listened to her brother. As she really heard what he was saying. For the first time, she understood where he was coming from. It finally made sense why he didn’t want her being with a cop. And it relieved her mind that it had nothing to do with Killian personally, especially because she wasn’t giving him up.

“EmEm, you sad?” Leo asked.

A small laugh turned cry-hiccup escaped Emma’s mouth. “No baby, I’m happy,” she smiled.

Leo clapped his hands, his innocent celebration of an adult human being happy, bringing a smile to everyone’s face.

Emma unfurled her balled up fist under Killian’s comforting hand and interlaced their fingers, giving him a strong smile. “David, while I am thankful that you explained your reason for not wanting me with Killian and I even understand where you’re coming from, I could walk outside tomorrow and get hit by a bus. There are no guarantees in this life.”

David nodded his head as he glanced between her face and her and Killian’s intertwined fingers.

“He has my heart, David, would you deny us that?”

David sat back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest as he often did when contemplating something. After a full minute, at least, he exhaled a breath bespeaking acceptance, albeit reluctantly. “I’m beginning to see that. And I could never deny you happiness, Emma.”

Emma beamed at her brother, understanding that while his actions may have been off kilter the reasoning behind them was fueled by brotherly love.

Mary Margaret leaned over and kissed her husband on the cheek before flashing Emma and Killian a smile. “Glad we got this settled,” she giggled.

“So, just what are your intentions toward my sister, Jones?”

Emma scoffed loudly, rolling her eyes at David’s attempt at big brother intimidation tactics. But when she heard Killian’s answer, she was kinda thankful to her brother.

“Well Dave, whatever happens between me and Emma is as much up to her as it is me. But I’m in this for the long haul if she’ll have me.”

“Good answer, partner,” David laughed as he threw his hand out across the table in an offer to shake Killian’s. “Two rules,” he added as he squeezed Killian’s hand tighter, “you are never allowed to kiss and tell around me, and if you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

Killian let David have his moment of brotherly protection, because he understood how important it was to cherish Emma. He was the one who’d fancied her for almost two years after all.

“All right, enough of that,” Mary Margaret sighed as she wiped Leo’s hands and face. “Let’s get everything cleaned up, and then we are headed to the zoo as planned. Emma you are free to bail, you and Killian probably have a lot of catching up to do for the last year and a half.”

Emma waggled her eyebrows at her sister-in-law and Killian had the good sense to not dispense with his usual abundance of innuendos, while David just cast the evil eye at his wife.

“What,” Mary Margaret asked, holding her hands up in mock innocence and confusion, “what’d I say?”

“Ga-dammen!” Leo shouted and every head whipped around to look at the little boy as he tugged helplessly at the lap belt of the high chair. “Up, up,” he pleaded.

“Way to go, dear, looks like he’ll have your charming vocabulary,” Mary Margaret scolded her husband.

Not having any kids of their own had Emma and Killian struggling not to bellow out loud at the little guys antics.

“No, no, Leo,” David told his son as he unbuckled the lap belt and picked him up. “That’s a… that’s a daddy word.”

“David! What kind of lesson is that?”

Emma and Killian just looked at each other and started cracking up. “So what do you say? Stay in or join these crazy kids at the zoo?” Emma asked Killian.

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I am doing,” Emma deadpanned. “I’m asking you out on a date with me, my brother, his wife and kid, and the monkeys too.”

“Sounds delightful as long as you’ll be there,” Killian answered as he pulled her into his embrace and pecked her lips.

“Hey, let’s just take it slow,” David interrupted, “I’m not quite there yet.”

“Oh relax, she’s 28, not 16, they’ve obviously already done the deed, how are you going to get squirmy over a hug?”

“Not helping!” David pleaded with his wife, rubbing his temples in a soothing motion.

“He’s such a baby,” Mary Margaret cracked up. “How about you guys meet us there? No rush,” she added conspiratorially.

“For fuck’s sake, do you want to lay out a trail of rose petals to the bed for them?”

“He’s too easy,” she continued laughing.

“Fuhfuh sake!!” Leo shouted.

Mary Margaret’s laughter cut off immediately as she stared daggers at her husband. “Watch your mouth, he’s a parrot these days!”

“Gonna be a fun day,” Emma said, once the Nolans had departed. She was most definitely trying to convince herself more than anyone else.

“It’ll be brilliant, love. You and me, that is the only requisite for my enjoyment.”

“I bet you say that to all the other girls.”

“There are no other girls. Only you, milady.”

“Good,” Emma whispered before pulling him in for a kiss.

“Mmm, let’s practice mating like the animals, Swan.”

Emma laughed so hard her stomach hurt. “I have no doubt David is now timing the drive to the zoo and adding it to the time he thinks it should take us to be ready.”

“I can be quick,” Killian purred as he thrust his hardening length against her stomach.

“Or we could take our time and really freak him out?”

“Your heart’s desire, Swan, I promise, that’s all I want you to have.”

Emma stared into the intense gaze of Killian’s eyes, the blue shining with truth and sincerity. “The long haul, Killian, that’s what my heart desires. You and me.”

The End

Tagging @laschatzi @xhookswenchx @kmomof4 @hookedonapirate @hollyethecurious @jennjenn615 @teamhook @winterbaby89 @apromisednightcap @ultraluckycatnd @wordsmith-storyweaver @darkcolinodonorgasm @nikkiemms @deathbycaptainswan @gingerchangeling @thisonesatellite @resident-of-storybrooke @whimsicallyenchantedrose @tiganasummertree @cocohook38 @snowbellewells @andiirivera @searchingwardrobes @timeless-love-story @artistic-writer @kday426 @imagnifika

#cs fan fic #cs ff #cs smut #captain swan #cs au

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365daysofsasuhina · 4 years

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[ @sasuhinabigflash2020 || Day Twenty-Three: They’re Better Than That ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uzumaki Naruto ] [ SasuHina, vulgarity ] [ Verse: Of Monsters and Men ] [ AO3 Link ]

[ Previous ] [ Next ] [ This piece is a sequel to Days Fourteen and Eighteen ]

Well...Sasuke can say this is certainly a first. And hopefully a last, as far as his career is concerned. Because as a hunter of monsters...working with one is the last thing he should be doing.

Though if he thinks about it...this isn’t the first partnership between himself and this soft-spoken harpy. When he’d targeted her as a potential trophy to prove himself as a Hunter, he’d instead ended up saving her life, teaming up with her against a far more dangerous threat: a vampire.

That, of course, wasn’t exactly planned on either of their parts. Sasuke never intended to spare a monster, and Hinata the harpy never expected to be allowed to live by a Hunter. But the most irritating thing - from Sasuke’s stance, at least - was Hinata’s insistence in her debt to him.

As it turns out...her kind take debt very, very seriously. ‘To the grave’ sort of serious. And now, she owed him her life.

Or so she claimed.

And Sasuke was not happy about that. It was bad enough he let her go, worse still that he lied to his family and clan of Hunters about it. He’d planned on simply avoiding her from then on, but Fate had another idea: to put her in the range of his first official case, looking into an illegal gambling ring run by a kitsune...or werefox, as they’re more technically called.

As it so happens, Hinata seems to know the man in question: one named Naruto, according to her. He’s already had a run-in with monster law, or Nightwalkers as they all call themselves. You’d think that would be enough to send him running him with his tail tucked between his legs. But just in case...Sasuke decides to pay him a visit. See if he can end this without violence.

Oh, if his father could see him now...he’s likely exile him.

But Hinata has pleaded on this Naruto’s behalf. Sure, he’s been swindling humans and risking an exposure of the worlds to one another, but apparently he’s really not a bad guy.

Sasuke will believe that when he sees it. But he promised Hinata he’d do what he could to avoid bloodshed.

Why? He’s not even sure anymore. Maybe he’s too soft to be a Hunter as his father feared. But...too late now.

“How much further?”

“His scent is getting pretty strong,” Hinata assures him softly. “Likely within a block.”

“You can really smell him?”

She glances to him curiously. “Yes…?”

“...sorry. Guess it’s just...weird to realize. I mean I know you can. Just...weird to see it in practice.”

Staring at him for a moment, Hinata dares to ask, “Because you kill us before you can do so?”

In spite of himself, he flinches with a grimace. “...yeah.”

“...I understand. I’ve never seen one of you up close before. It’s...still a little unsettling, if...if I can be honest.”

“It’s a lot less insulting than us talking about me killing you,” Sasuke rebukes, expression still torn.

She doesn’t have a reply for that, and in fact motions for him to pause as she takes a lungful of air at a crossroads of alleyways. “...I think -”

“Whoa!”

Hinata shrinks back with an eep and a flurry of feathers, Sasuke squawking gracelessly as she hides behind him.

In front of them, leaning back and looking ready to bolt, is a man fitting Sasuke’s given description of the werefox: blond, blue-eyed, tanned...this has to be their guy.

“N...Naruto-kun!” Hinata then offers, her bird-like traits vanishing as she realizes who very nearly bumped into her.

“...oh! Uh...Hinata, right? Man, you almost gave me a heart attack!”

“S-sorry! I...I didn’t realize you were that close.”

The blond blinks. “You lookin’ for me?”

“Yes! Well...sort of…?” She gives Sasuke a wary, indicative glance. “I...I have someone here who needs to - to talk to you.”

“Uh...okay. Lookin’ to make some cash there, my dude? I’ve got a couple of really good -!”

“I’m not looking to gamble, let alone illegally,” Sasuke cuts in, already a bit annoyed by the man’s ‘too-cool’ attitude and slick way of speaking. The word ‘illegal’ makes Naruto shift his gears to a defensive posture. “I’ve been sent out by a local clan of Hunters to investigate your dealings and make sure they stop. Permanently.”

Panic laces Naruto’s face as he realizes just who and what Sasuke is. “W-whoa, wait - what? You’re a -? Aw shit, I already got lectured by that old wolf the other day, I don’t need this now, too!”

“Naruto-kun,” Hinata cuts in gently. “We...that is to say, I’m just w-worried about you. If both the Enforcers and the Hunters know about what you’ve been doing...you’re putting yourself in real danger by -!”

“No one’s seen me!” Naruto then cuts in, looking jittery. Sasuke subtly adjusts his posture, ready to give chase if he bolts. “I swear! Yeah I swindled a few Daywalkers but they’re dumb as a box of rocks! No one knows what I am, guarantee it!”

“Anyone come back angry after you swindled them?” Sasuke growls.

“No! Uh, well...okay, a few. But I can talk my way outta anything! Honest! They have no idea!”

“Your luck can’t last forever,” the Uchiha counters. “One of these days, you’re going to slip up and get caught. And if a human realizes what you are and their illusion is shattered, that’s going to make a really big mess. For me, and for your Enforcer friends. Surely you don’t want to piss us both off, right?”

Unbidden as his stress rises, a pair of golden, ink-tipped ears spring out of the man’s hair, pinned in worry. “Look, I-I don’t want any trouble, ‘ttebayo! I was just tryin’ to make a living! You know how hard it is to get a job around here?”

“I have some idea.”

“I got thrown out of the last three I had. They accused me of stealing! It wasn’t stealing, I just…” He gestures vaguely. “...it’s in my nature!”

“Wily foxes. Believe me, I know,” Sasuke mutters, arms crossing. “No-good thieves, swindlers, and con artists.”

“Hey!” Stepping between the two, Hinata puffs up, and despite them not being visible, Sasuke can still picture her feathers ruffling. “Naruto-kun isn’t a bad person - he’s better than that! Stereotypes like that hurt us a l-lot more than you know.”

“Yeah. Like birds being easily spooked and flighty?” Sasuke counters, seeing her wince. “He’s literally running an illegal gambling ring and ripping people off. He’s doing exactly what I said he’d do. And if he keeps doing it, he’s gonna lose a lot more than a job.”

“Please...there has to be s-something we can do…?”

“You, uh…” Naruto takes half a step back, hands lifted. “You’re not gonna kill me, are ya?”

“That depends entirely on what you do, fox,” Sasuke rebukes. “Because right now, I have orders to do just that to ensure you don’t stir up more trouble than you can handle and cause a major incident between humans and monsters.”

The blond pales, eyes widening.

After a pause, Sasuke sighs. “...but I’d rather not kill you. And the only way I can let that happen is if you swear that your swindling days are over. That you’re not gonna keep pulling these stunts and risk you, and a lot of other people, getting hurt because of the panic at a monster being seen. Quit the game altogether, go clean...and I can let you go.” He then steps forward, grabbing the front of the blond’s jacket and ignoring his yip of surprise. “But if I hear about any more werefoxes around here getting their paws dirty...I won’t be so merciful next time. Got it?”

Blanching, Naruto just gives several rapid nods, stumbling back as Sasuke releases his hold. “You...y-you got it, man. I-I’ll go clean! Never touch any cards or dice again, I s-swear it!”

“I’ll be holding you to that. Now get out of here and find something else to do than lurking around alleyways, huh?”

Not needing to be told twice, Naruto spins on a heel and - in a blink - shifts into a huge, two-tailed fox that bolts down the road and out of sight.

Sighing, Sasuke pinches the bridge of his nose. “...I’m gonna be in so much shit if anyone finds out about this…”

“You did the right thing,” Hinata murmurs, hands folded at her front. “I think you s-scared him straight. I’ll check in on him later and...make sure.”

He gives her an unreadable glance. “...thanks.”

Considering him, Hinata then hesitantly admits, “You’re...nothing like I thought you would be.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re...not just a killer. You think, and...you reason. I’ve always heard that Hunters are ruthless...heartless.”

Thinking of his family and their records, Sasuke barely withholds a grimace. “...I might just be an exception to the rule.”

“Well...I’m glad you are. We’re really not bad people, you know. We’re just...t-trying to survive, like everyone else. Sure, some of us stir up trouble...a-and hurt people. But then again...so do Daywalkers. Humans, I mean,” she adds after a pause. “I think maybe...you see that.”

“All I see is me failing to do my job twice now,” he sighs.

“Well...that failure meant two people are still alive,” Hinata replies softly. “...doesn’t that mean something?”

Contradictions running through his mind and giving him a headache, Sasuke waves her off. “...I dunno. But you better get home, and...I better get out of here. And you,” he adds, pointing at her, “are no longer indebted to me. You repaid me with your help tonight, so let it go.”

“But you helped my friend! If anything, I -!”

“Look, I told you: being in debt to me is dangerous for you! If anyone I know were to see me talking to you and not cutting off your head, we’d both be good as dead. You need to stay the hell away from me from now on.”

Not expecting his sharp tone, she retreats a step, eyes wide and tinged with fright. “...b-but...it was you who came looking for me -?”

“This time. And the last time. I thought this would get that debt idea out of your head, but it seems I was wrong.” Stepping up, he rests his finger against her collarbone, trying to look intimidating. “...for your own sake...never see me again.”

Unreadable flickers of emotions dart across her face. “...a-as you wish.”

Hoping he’s made his point, Sasuke stares at her a moment longer before backing away and heading back toward the main road. Why he bothered trying to warn her, he doesn’t understand. She’s a monster. His mortal enemy. What should he care if her actions get herself killed? It would just be one less of them to worry about!

...and yet...it’s getting awfully hard to draw a line between himself, and any other human he knows...and her. Sure, she can burst into feathers, but...her mannerisms, her behavior, her emotions...they’re all exactly like anyone else.

...they’re human.

Buried in his thoughts as he walks, Sasuke stands beside his bike for a long moment, not wanting to drive with his head in the clouds. Everything he’s been taught about monsters - about Nightwalkers - seems to be less and less meaningful the more he interacts with them. Decades, centuries of tradition...are they...wrong…?

Scowling to himself, Sasuke forces the dilemma aside - he needs to report back. He doesn’t have Naruto’s head to present them...and admitting he let the guy go isn’t an option. He can claim the fox escaped...but that won’t stop the hunt for him. Naruto will have to lay low for a good long while for his kin to give up the chase.

But hopefully he realizes that much.

Hoping astride his bike and kicking up the stand, Sasuke veers from the curb and turns around back toward home. He’s too tired and too frustrated to be thinking about all of this. It’s far too large a topic...and he doesn’t have all the answers. Nor can he ask anyone - questioning their oath to rid the world of monsters will surely just get him in trouble. He doesn’t even dare ask Itachi.

...so for now, he’ll just...try not to think about it.

Woo, another piece done today! No idea if there’ll be a third, but we’ll see lol Anywho, more of the new-plot monster verse! This one is growing on me, I’ll admit it. I wasn’t sure it would since I had another multi-part story in this verse with an alternate plot - I thought it’d bore me. But I’m pleasantly surprised lol - and hopefully you guys are enjoying it! I always feel like I can’t write Naruto well. So hopefully I did a passable job with him, eh heh~ Otherwise, I...guess there’s not much to say? I’ve gotta run and get some irl things done, but we’ll see about another part today. We’re still five days behind, but...better than nothing xD Hope y’all enjoyed and I’ll see you in the next one!

#sasuhinabigflash2020 #shbf2020 #sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #uzumaki naruto #vulgarity //#of monsters and men [ au ]

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cr0wprince · 3 years

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Now I’m afraid my name might be brought up though. I did some shitty things with her when we were friends. It’s been five to almost seven years (five since the last time I spoke to her and almost seven since I met her). I was 17-18 in the time I knew her and I’m very easily influenced by the people around me, but I’m ultimately responsible for my actions. I saw another ex-friend of hers brought up (not by name) and now I’m kind of scared.

I’m gonna be a little vague and my memory isn’t the best (I try to block things out as a defense mechanism), but I’m going to try to recount it, just for my own benefit. I’m not even going to name her, but will refer to her as LR. I don’t think anyone cares tbh lmao

I met her in 2014. It was probably February or March, so I was 17. We were both cosplaying Attack on Titan, very big at the time. Someone posted in a con Facebook group that they made a cosplay group for the area/con for Attack on Titan. I only had my jeans, shirt, jacket (that I made), wig, and glasses for Hanji at that time and I posted a picture, “I’m not too confident in how I look, but here’s my cosplay.” and she commented that it was a good cosplay. We went from there, started chatting, and made plans to meet at the con. She was 19 at the time, of it really matters, but we were still age appropriate friends.

The con comes by. I didn’t wear Attack on Titan the first day, felt kind of left out when we started meeting other people from the group. She’s always been a social butterfly (I think it’s an attention thing more than she actually enjoys it tbh, but I might be biased??) and I’ve been really shy about approaching people after being bullied in middle school. The next two days I wore my unfinished SNK cosplay, didn’t have the belts, but had a fun time.

She ran a panel and promised that I could be Hanji in it and let someone else be Hanji as well, and this person got more attention because she was more outgoing, which kind of bummed me out, but at 17, I was a very jealous cosplayer and would get jealous about people cosplaying the same thing as me. Not a healthy mindset, but it is what it is and you grow from it.

She had told me she was in pre-med (I’m going to remind you she’s 19 at this point, not unusual but it’s what she tells me next which is the questionable part) and that she’s going to start on the medical stuff the next year. I’m 17 and naive and don’t question it. I know now pre-med takes four years. This is an example of her lying to me/holding things in.

We continued being friends with the SNK group, had meetups at a local park, and whatever. She lamented to me about not being able to go to Colossalcon because she couldn’t afford it or something and my parents pay for cons, so I talked them into letting her stay with us. I had started cosplaying Ymir to her Christa and I did have a cry privately to LR when another girl cosplayed Ymir to another girl’s Christa because the other Christa felt left out by me being LR’s Ymir. I felt jealous they got more attention, again, not a healthy mindset, but I was 17 and convinced I was going to be a professional cosplayer. I know now it’s a bad mindset. LR took my meltdown the wrong way, which I’ll get to later.

It wasn’t long after, maybe a couple months. She had stopped hanging out with the friend I had met her with at the con, which I realize now is kind of sus, but I didn’t think anything of it at the time. But anyway, a couple months later at most, she makes a post in the Facebook group that she’s been feeling left out of the SNK group. A few people from it got together to talk about it, she finds out, and I get pissed. I make a big post in the group about how they’re purposely leaving her out. I’m loyal to a fault, and sometimes it blinds me. It splits the group, they still keep together, but LR and I separate from them.

We move on to different series and start doing cosplay photos. It’s something I wanted to do for a while. She’s a little hesitant, but I hype it up and she eventually gets into it. At Otakon, she asks mentions if I’d be okay with her cosplaying Juvia (a big comfort character of mine, and one I’d failed to finish a cosplay of that con, but I’d gotten Levy done, which still worked with her Lucy) and I’m thrown off guard. I tell her no lmao. I mean really though, what would I do? But it’s important later.

I have big plans. I don’t always finish my big plans. I want to do a ton of different cosplays and she feeds into me. She finishes things while I normally don’t. I realize I shouldn’t have agreed to do so many, but also, the one’s she made aren’t unwearable? She can cosplay without me matching? But it’s something she internalizes.

We book lots of shoots. It’s fun! We don’t get the most expensive photographers (we’re 18 and 20 at the time) but it’s fun. There’s a particular photographer I wanted to work with and she books her since she’s dealing with it at this point since I have a lot of anxiety talking to people. By the time the con rolls around, my costume didn’t work out the way I wanted and my skirt is held up with safety pins. It shows in the photos, so does her back acne. She goes on a tangent on her Facebook cosplay page about how unprofessional the photographer is, how she doesn’t edit photos for anyone but her friends. I, unfortunately, share it. At that time, neither of us have a big following (I still don’t, she doesn’t really either, only 3,700 after she remade, but did have almost 10k at one point), so it doesn’t go far. The photographer and friends stick up for the photographer and it doesn’t go anywhere luckily.

I’m falling deeper into depression at this point. I’m not finishing projects I’m supposed to do with her, messages are spotty on my end. We still do a couple of cons together. The next con of the first we met at comes around, I don’t have anything done, I’m mortified. I skip a whole day. It’s in driving distance so it’s not like I was wasting a whole hotel day. She gets photos solo. It seems fine.

She messages me one day that her parents kicked her out. Something about a fight over her mom saying minimum wage workers don’t work as hard and LR snapping back. Her parents were really nice the couple of times I met them, which isn’t always indicative of how someone really is, but now I feel in my gut that there had to be something more. It feels like petty reason. She moves into her grandparents (and further selfies match that, so it seems like it had to be bad if she never went back). She messages me this and I’m thrown so off guard. Yeah, we called each other best friends. We didn’t talk to many other people as far as I knew at that point, but I had no idea what to say. It’s bad on my part, but I didn’t answer her for a week.

She didn’t message me or anything, didn’t delete me off Facebook, but vague posted me there about being there for people when they won’t be there for you, and people were hyping her up. I realized it might’ve been about me. I called her crying, terrified. Sent her messages. I don’t exactly remember what transpired, but did make up.

There was a point she told me she was dropping pre-med to become an accountant because it took a year and she wanted to focus on cosplay. Again, stupid 18yo me believed that that made sense and was like, “Oh okay!”

We went to a couple more cons, I’m pretty sure she was using me. We make plans for Youmacon, but I don’t message her for like a week in September of 2015. She asks if I’m okay (the only time) I tell her I’m doing really bad. We don’t talk until close to the con. I admit to her that I was thinking of admitting myself to the psych ward it was that bad, but though I didn’t tell her that, it’s ultimately a very hard, very personal choice. (I made it in May and it’s not an easy choice.) She tears me a new one, saying I should’ve went, that I was using her for companionship. She said she had plans to go to another con?? So the way I see it, she cared more about going to a con than anything else. She never checked in on me after I told her I was doing bad, just to take my time.

She has a new bff at this point. This is going to be so cruel, but her new friend isn’t as put together, which is fine! Cosplay is for fun! But I mention this because they get photos together. After my obsession with becoming a professional cosplayer, LR got into that mindset too. I’m so fucking sure that she used this other girl in photos to look better next to. The difference is so obvious in photos.

I make a cosplay that LR cosplayed when we were friends. I’m so proud. I haven’t finished anything in months. I cosplay a couple of things she did, but we were friends at one point, we like the same series, and there are a lot of big series. It’s bound to happen.

She vagues me on Instagram. She continues to stalk me on there (and I did her, not proud of it, but I’ll admit it). She posts things about how an ex friend had a breakdown over her having other friends (when I confided in her my jealousy over the Ymir/Christa duo), how I wouldn’t let her cosplay Juvia lmao (this still gets me. What would I do? Break your arm? You asked me on the spot and I was uncomfortable.). There was one Juvia cosplay post that I mentioned I had lost weight because while my uncle was dying, I wasn’t eating. I was helping with cleaning his house and I just wasn’t fucking eating. She took that as a jab about her because she has self image issues. There was also a big post she made how she KNEW I was cosplaying all the same things as her to make her jealous and to make her insecure, mentioning me by name even. I reported it and it got taken down.

I’d heard things through the grapevine. How she started shit in the Fate community and she was afraid of being beat up at Katsucon’s public photoshoot. How she tried to make a Love Live group, but when two girls couldn’t afford it and they would no longer have all nine, she threw a fit and cancelled the whole group. I’d also heard about her making a fuss over photos she got back when a cosplayer’s grandparent was dying. I stayed away after like a year, but a couple of people who knew me that knew I was friends with her would tell me things.

I wasn’t the best person, either. I’ll take responsibility for that. I wish I could apologize to the people I hurt while friends with her, but I no longer remember their names. I was a dumb teenager. I still get swept up in the people around me and get carried away when the people I are about are hurt. Maybe it’s something I need to work on. But, I ultimately don’t think she’s grown. I don’t think she’s gotten better. I think she’s only gotten worse over the year.

I’m not proofreading. There might be more, but it was a lot to go through, but I wanted to get it out. I hope the read more works, but I’m gonna throw on a long post warning too. If you read this, thank you, by the way. I just felt like I had to get it out.

#rachel’s rambling #long post

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masked-mallards · 4 years

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Masked Mallards, The Multiverse, and Everything Else

ch. 8 Whatever happened to Elmo Sputterspark

Sanitatemverse

45 years ago

Posi – St. Canard

Abandon Electrical Plant.

Ma Beagle was used to disappointment. The Beagle Boys were all her children and were a constant failure. She had hoped that their father’s knack for criminal activity would rub off on them and he could lead them to greatness. However, Thick’s influence can only go so far. She was the brains and Thick was the leader, the only one big enough to stop them was Scrooge Mcduck. So, they decided to set up shop in St. Canard, way from the old billionaire’s influence. The Beagle Boys were only successful when Thick led the mission, but Thick couldn’t go on every mission with them. So, Ma Beagle mainly sent him on jobs given by their biggest patron F.O.W.L.

The small beagle had sent her boys to the local Cirque to collect protection money for the organization, and to teach them a lesson of meeting their quota. The Cirque Du Duck have been lacking in recent years, and F.O.W.L wasn’t too happy about it. They do not take kindly to failure and would have dropped the Beagle Boys from their payroll, but F.O.W.L never let anything go to waste. The Fiendish Organization of World Larceny sent one their agents to ensure the Beagle Boys dealt with the problem. He was a hound known as Agent Sneaky Luiseno. Luiseno had accompanied Thick to the Cirque to collect.

The head agent of F.O.W.L had come to check on his progress. Ma looked to the rooster who sat in the dark. He had made himself comfortable on the couch and had surrounded himself with the female members of the Beagle Boys. “Your boys are late,” he said. “That doesn’t look good on you.” Ma Beagle addressed him. “My apologies Agent Talon,” she responded. “Thick had said he let them have a little fun at the circus. Didn’t expect him to actually take them to a show.” In truth Thick had wanted to find Elmo before they attacked the Cirque. Thick and Ma had fought this morning about the loyalties of Elmo Sputterspark and where they lie. Ma Beagle never trusted the grandson of Bart T. Ratcliff.

The old rat had always run the Cirque Du Duck, even when her grandfather Blackheart was a child. You can’t be in business that long and not break a few eggs. Mcduck might beg a differ, but then again he had conned Blackheart out of the deed to Duckburg. Sputterspark had come to live with Ratcliff after his parent were sent to jail. The boy became an excellent pickpocket since he came to live him. Ma only agreed to let Elmo be a part of the attack on Cirque Du Duck, only if Thick contacted Sputterspark after they got there. That way, if Elmo was a spy for Ratcliff, he has no way to warn anyone. Ma had turned on the radio to contact Thick and check his progress. When the iron doors flung open.

Her eldest son Big Time, came running in followed by Bouncer who chased after him. Elmo and Burger were the last to enter carrying Thick. Thick was still unresponsive, and was missing an arm. Burger cleared a nearby table and Elmo laid the large beagle on top of it. Talon got up from the couch to investigate. Ma beagle rushed over Thick, the only beagle aside from Blackheart she cared about, pushing Elmo out of the way. The blood around Thick’s arm was dry, so it had already started to heal and grow back. Agent Talon looked around; Luiseno was not among to party that came back. Ma Beagle shot daggers at Elmo. The fact that Thick was hurt today of all days sent her paranoia in to overdrive.

She grabbed Elmo by the scuff of his shirt and pulled him to her eye level. “Start talking,” she growled. “This was supposed to be a simple smash and go. So why are you back empty handed and with Thick worst for the ware?” Posi- Talon cut in. “Where is Luiseno? Why isn’t he with you?” he asked coolly. Elmo went silent, he knew Ma Beagle never trusted him. Before Elmo could speak, Bouncer came back with Big Time under his arm. The small beagle ran his mouth to save his own skin. “The Cirque knew we were coming,” He said. “They hired some merc with a chainsaw to protect them. He sliced off Pa’s arm and cut Luiseno into ribbons. He called himself Negan. Elmo can tell you; he was with the merc before he attacked us.” Ma beagle tighten her grip on Elmo in rage. “Is this true?” she demanded.

“Yes, I was with him,” Elmo said in a panic. “But I had no idea who he was. I was told he...” Elmo stopped himself from saying anymore. He might be Ratcliff’s spy; didn’t mean he was a good one. “Go on” Posi-Talon said a mock encouraging tone. Elmo didn’t want to tell them the truth, they wouldn’t believe him and not to mention what Magica would do if he threw Drake Mallard under the bus. Besides, Drake had lost enough because of the Beagle Boys. He doesn’t need to lose another family member, even it is Negan. Elmo knew no matter what he said, once Thick woke up and told them that he refused to join the attack, The Beagle Boys would know that he was a spy.

“Never mind,” the rat said defeated not looking Ma Beagle in the eye. “You were right, I am a spy, however I didn’t know about Negan.” Ma Beagle tossed Elmo to the ground. “Damn it!” she raged. Bouncer released Big Time; he was no longer anger at him. He set his sights on the traitor. The broad Beagle lifted Sputterspark off the floor and tossed him into a nearby workbench. Elmo’s weight on the old table was too much and it broke, the table collapsed on top of him. Bouncer picked the rat up with one hand and pinned him against a wall. Elmo’s feet dangled off the ground as he tried to free himself from the beagle’s death grip. Bouncer began to pound Sputterspark’s face in with his free hand. The rest of the Beagle Boys watched smiling and laughing at Elmo’ punishment. However, it was far from over.

”Bouncer that is enough.” Talon said in a professional tone. Bouncer growled at the rooster, but released Elmo. The rat dropped to the floor with a thud. His face was battered, bruised, and swollen. He could barely see. Talon approached him. “Don’t think you are out of the woods yet,” he said. “I do not take kindly to spies in my mist and because of you, F.O.W.L lost a valued agent.” Talon snatched up Elmo by the fur of shoulder. He dug his fingers into the rat’s nervous system. The agent was known to have knowledge of pressure points in the body and use it as a weapon. Elmo’s body went limp and he was at the mercy of Reid Talon.

Talon pulled Sputterspark to his feet. “My superiors will not like to hear about how we had a rat in our operation. I am going to have to deal with the Cirque personally, if they stand up against F.O.W.L. others will follow. They must be made an example of.” He paused and pulled Elmo up to his eye level and forced him to look at the rooster. “But first,” he continued. “I’m going to have to deal with you and send your dear grandfather a message.” Talon eyes darted to his side. “Burger!” he barked. “Get the chair!” Burger disappeared down the hall on his task. Talon turned his attention back to Elmo. The rooster had an unsettling smirk on his face. “I heard you’re a brilliant scientist in the making,” Talon said almost sounding impressed. “To bad you chose the wrong side.”

Elmo’s eyes widen in fear when Burger came back. He was carting an old electric chair. Reid could read his thoughts. “Don’t worry” he said. “I do not intend to kill you with this.” The rooster walked over the device. “This is a special model designed by the engineers at F.O.W.L.” he continued as if he were marketing it. “The amount of electricity can be more easily controlled by a remote.” He procured a small grey machine from his jacket pocket and waved it around. Elmo looked around. Every exit was blocked off by the Beagle Boys. Ma Beagle smirked; she had been looking forward to this for a long time. She looked at Thick. His arm was beginning to grow back. She turned her attention back to Sputterspark. “Get him boys” she commanded.

Elmo tried in vain to escape, but he was overwhelmed by his former colleagues. Three beagles nabbed him and forced him to the chair. He pleaded for mercy as they strapped him in and hooked him up with wires on his head. “PLEASE....HAVE MERCY....I’LL DO ANYTHING!” he begged. He was noticeably shaking. The beagle took pleasure in Elmo’s despair. Talon said coolly. “I sure you would, but the thing is, I don’t want anything you could provide.” Burger handed Talon a large textbook and whispered in his ear. Talon’s face light up and he took the book and sat in a chair across from Elmo. “Burger tells me that you were gonna graduate high school soon and start your college career to become an electrical engineer. How sweet.” The rooster said with fake sincerity. “The college you what to enroll in is a major one, you have to past the entrance exam in order to enter.

“The wires attached to your head are hooked up to the part of your brain that manages your long- and short-term memory.” Talon explained. “One zap and who knows what happens. Even the Sanitatem Trance can’t restore memories.” He opened the textbook and thumbed through the pages. “I am in a generous mood,” the roosted continued.” Ill help you prepare for your test. For every answer you get correct, Ill think about letting you go.” He paused. “However, if get the answer wrong....” Talon press one of the buttons of his remote. The electricity crack and popped. Elmo screamed as the electricity coursed through his body. Talon pressed the button again and the chair went dead, but Elmo’s body was still shaking with the voltage.

Talon tapped the grey textbook. “This is a collection of research done by F.O.W.L’s own electrical engineers.” he said. “If you can correctly answer what is in this book, you are a shoe into that school.” He flipped the book open. “Now Let’s begin, shall we?” the rooster said. “Wait wait wait!” Elmo panicked. Talon replied. “Sorry, a pop quiz waits for no one.” Talon made himself comfortable in his chair. “What is your name?” He asked. “Elmo Sputterspark” Elmo replied. A large amount of electricity hit Elmo like a bullet and he yelled in pain. “Wrong,” Talon said waving his finger. “Honestly, how could you forget you your own name?” Talon turned the page of the book. “But it is my name,” Elmo wheezed. Talon raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Maybe a couple of more zaps will refresh your memory.”

“No...wait....please...” Elmo begged. His pleas fell upon deaf ears. Talon turned on the power to the chair again. Elmo’s body shook violently as the power coursed through his body. The fur around his wrists began to smoke and sizzle with heat. After two minute of pumping Elmo with electricity, Talon shut off the power again. Elmo’s mind became hazy. He could feel himself passing out and the Sanitatem Trance trying to take hold. Burger stuck a needle in the rat’s arm, forcing him awake. “Now, now,” Talon tsked. “We can’t have you pass out just yet, can’t have you undoing all the work we’ve done so far.” Talon turned back on the power to the chair. The Beagles snickered in glee as Elmo screamed in agony.

Elmo began to feel the effects of the electrocution to his brain by the time Talon turned of the power again. “Ma Beagle what is going on?” Elmo asked, already forgetting how he got here. “How did I get here? Why am I strapped to this chair?” Ma Beagle shrugged, she delighted in Elmo’s confusion. Elmo looked around and his eyes locked on Thick. Flashes of Cirque Du Duck crossed his head. He could see everything but couldn’t hear what was going on. Drake introduced him to his look-alike relative. The relative attacked Thick and sliced off his arm, or was it Drake? Elmo couldn’t remember. Talon spoke up and snapped Elmo back to reality. “Do you know who Bart. T Ratcliff is?” the rooster asked.

“He is the owner of Cirque Du Duck and my grandfather on my mother’s side” Elmo answered. Talon didn’t electrocute him this time. “Do you know, why you are here?” Talon questioned. “It is because Ratcliff sold you out. It was to prove his loyalty to us.” he lied. Elmo shook his head. “No, I don’t believe you.” the rat said. “Oh, really?” Talon asked smugly. “Tell me how come we found you out then?” Elmo went quiet, he didn’t have the answer for that. The only people who knew about him being a spy was Ratcliff, Magica, and the Mallards. Magica didn’t fear the Beagle Boys or F.O.W.L, no one messed with the old witch. Shera has had no contact them, and Drake was too proud to even consider to get the good gracious of his father’s killer.

Ratcliff was the only one who dealt with the criminal groups on a regular basis. However, it wasn’t enough of a reason for Ratcliff to betray him. “I don’t know.” Elmo said. Electricity ran through Elmo’s body again. “Wrong answer.” Talon replied as he turned off the chair. The electricity pumped through Elmo’s body. His head tilted as he wailed from the pain. When it finally stopped, Elmo looked around confused. His gazed fell upon Talon and Ma Beagle. “Why am I here?” he asked her. “Is this some sort of gang initiation?” Ma Beagle leaned in and whispered into Talon’s ear. “Looks like his long-term memory is damaged,” she said. “He joined us a year ago.” Talon smiled. “Good,” he replied. “At this rate, we can rewrite his memories and send him back to Ratcliff.” Talon turned his attention back to a confused Elmo and zapped him again.

The pattern of questions and electrocution went on for hours. Thick had woken up and had a new arm. A jagged scar formed a ring around near his shoulder were Negaduck had severed the limb. He confirmed Big Times testimony of the events at Cirque Du Duck. Elmo at this point couldn’t even remember Thick or Ma Beagle by name. Only that they had kidnapped him when he was little to get Ratcliff to do their bidding. Anything that happened after that, Elmo could not remember, and Talon could miniplate his memory as he pleased. Talon took note that Elmo’s fur began to spark with electricity, even when the power to the chair was cut off. He pushed it from his mind.” Must be seeing things.” he thought.

Talon filled Elmo’s head with lies. He told Elmo, that Ratcliff had sold him to the Beagle Boys to pay them off. What happen in the years between then Talon said he didn’t know, but give Elmo’s current battered state he had a good idea. The Cirque Du Duck had prospered since then, and all Ratcliff had to do was sacrifice his grandson to the dogs. The more Talon electrocuted him; the more Elmo began to believe that Ratcliff abandon him. Elmo began to show signs of aggression toward the mention of Bart. T Ratcliff. Burger gave him another needle of modafinil, when Elmo’s consciousness began to fade. The rat was made alert and the torture continued.

Eventually, Elmo couldn’t remember anyone from the cirque, not even his own name. However, knowledge about electrical science remain and how to take care of himself. That information was stored in a different part of the brain. Talon never zapped him when he asked about technical things. Talon got up from his chair and walked over to Elmo, who was slumped in the electric chair. Elmo’s eyes darted around. “What is your name?” the rooster asked. After a minute Elmo look at him. “ My....name...is...I...I don’t know.” Elmo stuttered. “Do you know who I am?” he asked in a dazed tone. Talon put his hand on his beak and mused. Elmo’s fur was charged with electricity and had turned black from being burned. “Hmm... I think your name is Megawatt.”

The rooster answered. An unnamed beagle shouted. “That is the name of my favorite band, try something else.” Talon raised an eyebrow. “Dim Bulb?” Talon said trying another name. Another Beagle shouted from the crowd. “That’s my name,” he said. Ma beagle was beginning get annoyed with her children’s interruptions. “Shut up Dim Bulb,” she growled. She walked to Talon’s side and gave Elmo a look over. “Your name is Megavolt and that is final,” she said then turned to the rest of the Beagle Boys. “Right...?” She inquired. Every Beagle Boy in the room answered in unison as if they were soldiers. “Yes Ma!”

Talon rolled his eyes, with the exception of Thick and Ma, the Beagle Boys were idiots in his book. The rooster handed the remote to Burger. “I want you to stay with Megavolt and continue to reeducate him until we comeback.” He turned to the rest of the gang. “In the mean time I want you all to prepare to mount another attack. This time we are not going to collect a debt. The Cirque Du Duck needs to be made an example of, we gonna kill everyone there and burn it to the ground!” Ma Beagle spoke up to rile up her sons. “Do this to avenge Luiseno, to protect the honor of your Pa, do it for dear old Ma!” The Beagle Boys roared and hollered. They were ready and willing. “That’s the spirit, boys!” Thick shouted over them. “Be ready to attack tomorrow at dusk, and teach the world a lesson that they won’t forget.”

The Beagle Boys departed leaving Talon, Ma and Thick Beagle, Burger, and Elmo. “Oversee the preparations for the next attack.” Talon instructed Ma and Thick. he grabbed his coat and retrieved a radio from it. “I am going to see what I can find out about this “Negan” and hopefully dispose of him. He shall rue the day he interfered in F.O.W.L business!” Talon started up the radio, and it cracked to life. “I need you to snoop around the camp.” He talked into the radio. “I want you find out what can about Negan, I will meet you at the cirque tomorrow.” A voice came from the other end of the line. “Roger boss,” it said. Talon placed the radio on the couch. The three left the electrical plant. The only ones left were Burger and Megavolt. Burger turned on the electric chair and watched as Elmo squirmed. After a few minutes he turned it off and placed the remote on the table. He picked up the Talon’s textbook and disappeared down the hall to put it away. Elmo was alone. His fur cracked and popped with electricity.

Bang. The sound of the explosion caused Burger to fall to the ground. He looked in the direction it came from. Smoke rose from the main room Elmo was being held. Burger rushed back to check the prisoner, only to find the electric chain was nothing more than a warped piece of metal and wood. Elmo was nowhere in sight. The power to the building went out, yet Burger could see lights from other buildings. Something scurried across the room. Burger was immediately alert. “Elmo is that you?’ He asked weakly. He didn’t know why he was afraid. There was no way Elmo could hurt him. The was no reply. Burger made his way to the exit. He had to report that Elmo had escaped. A blue volt of lightning struck the beagle in back. Burger’s body hit the floor with a thud. He couldn’t move and feel anything past his ribs.

Burger cried in pain until he heard footsteps and the sound electricity approaching. “Elmo?” Burger said not believing his eyes. The rat stood up with a slouch, and had no expression on his face. His fur sparked, and popped like clothes that you get out of the dryer, his clothes were torn, and his fur had turned as black as coal. Elmo looked down at Burger. “Who are you?” he asked. “Why do you call me Elmo? My name is Megavolt.” Elmo’s eyes lock on the grey book Burger had tucked in his arm. “You know what,” he continued. “Never mind, you have something I want.” The last thing Burger saw was Megavolt lift his hand and produce a massive lightning volt. Burger’s screams were drowned out by the electrical pulse.

Megavolt pried the book from Burger’s charred remains and flipped through it. “Interesting,” he mused. “I have to run experiments to prove these theories, but first I have to pay a visit to my dear old grandfather Ratcliff. Can’t exactly remember way, but I want him dead.” The memory of Elmo Sputterspark was gone, all that remained was Megavolt. Megavolt left the old electrical plant taking the book with him. He began to feel weak. “Hmm...” He thought. “Must have used to much juice on that beagle, I guess my power does have its limits.” He wandered around the back alleyway and found a place to sleep. “My biological structure is different now, the Sanitatem Trance should restore me like an electrical battery. I need to learn the limits of my capabilities and what I can do to improve upon them.” Megavolt climbed into a dumpster as the sun set and dozed off. Tomorrow, he’d go see Ratcliff.

Hours earlier at Cirque Du Duck.

Nega – Magica De Spell walked to a nearby window. She sighed, “So let me get this straight,” she said in both angry and annoyed tone. She addressed Drake first. “You went off by yourself to practice forming portals...without my permission or supervision. I was right to send Poe out to look for when you didn’t come home right away. Also, it seems you were planning to confront the Beagle Boys.” She walked to the other end of her caravan, and picked up a picture frame and signed. Drake had seen it so many times he knew what it was. It was a photo of Magica and the Macawbers sharing a meal together. Magica and the Macawbers became fast friends since she joined the Cirque. Within the few years she knew them, they made her an honorary family member. That is why she was the first one in line to adopt Morgana after the family was exterminated by the Beagle Boys.

She put down the picture. “Look,” she continued. “I know it hurts, but you are going to have to move on. Picking a fight with the Beagle Boys won’t bring Sergei back or the others. What it does is put a large target on your back.” She paused and turned stern. “Your actions today had put our operation at risk! If you hadn’t created that portal, Negaduck would be in the Negaverse right now where he should be! Not to mention what the Beagle boys will do once they regroup! As punishment, Morgana will replace you as my assistant during shows for 6 months, and you will be running extra laps for a week! That’s not even covering what your aunt is going to do to you when I tell her.”

Drake was in protest. “Your giving my position to a 7-year-old!?” he exclaimed. “Look, I know I screwed up big time, but this going too far!” Magica rolled her eyes. “Oh, give it a rest Drake,” she responded in annoyed tone. “Your ego could use a reality check anyways.” Negaduck snickered. However, with one look from Nega – Magica, he quickly changed his tune and went silent. Drake clenched his fist. “Be that as it may.” He countered. “I can’t sit here and do nothing. The Cirque can’t even pay rent much less the Beagle Boys. They came here today to do harm. I had to do something!” He looked Magica in the eye. “How am I going to be the Guardian of St. Canard, like you say I ‘m destined to be, if you keep me from protecting my home?” Drake’s voice was thick with sarcasm. He still didn’t believe in destiny.

Magica started at the duckling. Her mouth moved as if she wanted to say something, but decided against it. “It is not time for you take that role yet,” she answered in a calm voice. “All you need to do is trust that I know what I am doing.” Magica could see that Drake still had a hard time believing in magic. He had convinced himself, that his quadworth ability was a mutation. The witch didn’t care wither how he came to terms with it, all that matter is that able and willing to act as her champion. However, it seems that Drake was losing fate in her. He had no motive to go against Nega- Scrooge McDuck.

Magica turned her gaze to Negaduck. Negaduck stood attention and had a slightly worried look on his face. He knew he done it. Unlike Drake, Negaduck had motivation to act as her champion. His father had driven him over the edge and he wanted revenge. Sergei Starling is the current spymaster of Nega- Scrooge McDuck himself. Unfortunately, both Drake and Negaduck shared a stubborn personality and a complete disregard for the rules. Magica put her hand up to her head and rubbed the bridge of her beak. “I am honestly not surprised by you at this point,” Magica started, this was a normal conversation with Negaduck. “You were in trouble again because you were careless. 1st you lose your talisman. Then, when you get caught thieving, you led one of Nega-McDuck’s men to the Posi-Sanitatem.”

“It is not like I had much of a choice.” Negaduck argued. “It was the portal or the guard.” Magica didn’t miss a beat. “Don’t act like this couldn’t be avoided boy,” she barked. “This wouldn’t have happened if you haven’t stolen in the first place!” Magica eyed the bloodied chain saw that Negaduck had in his hands. “Also, you have done a pretty bang up job of keeping a low profile since you arrived in Posiverse.” She continued. “You angered the Beagle Boys by killing one of their own. Again, why do you risk discovery?” Negaduck looked her in the eye, slightly annoyed. “Because I am not going to live my life hiding from everyone! I like my freedom and I want to keep it.” The witch glowered at him “You won’t have free if you’re dead.” Magica retorted.

Magica walked back to the window and put her arms behind her back. “When we get back to the Negaverse, you will be confined to the Muddlefoot residence for half a year, and I will personally see that you stay there. The only time you are allowed to leave is with me. Just like Drake you will be running extra laps for a week. I have to create a new talisman for you and it will take a day to do so. So, you will be doing chores around the Cirque in addition to your punishment.” Negaduck didn’t protest. Yes, he hated the idea of beginning in “prison” for half a year, but he wanted to stay on the witch’s good side. His eyes went wide in surprise. “Wait,” he exclaimed. “I’m stuck in this world!? Douglass is going to flip!”

De Spell made her way to the center of the caravan and sighed. “Now that I have that out of the way,” she said. “I can make a new talisman, but there is a slight complication.” She paused. “Do any of you remember my lesson in how the Multiverse remains balanced and how it keeps quadworths from traveling around without limitation?” Both boys answered. “yes.” Negaduck answered shrugging. “No” Drake responded. Magica sighed. “You’re gonna get a lecture when this is over,” Magica said slightly annoyed. She recomposed herself and addressed Negaduck. “Negaduck, please explain the harmony between worlds.” Negaduck went quiet for a minute. “Actually,” he responded. “I lied; I don’t know how it works. I was hoping Drake had the answer.” De spell did a facepalm and ran her hand down her beak in annoyance. Drake snickered. “Kids.” Magica thought.

She swatted the both of them atop their heads. “Every migraine I get comes from the both of you.” she growled. “Anyways,” Magica continued. “The Harmony between Worlds is what keeps the multiverse stable and quadworths like you in check. If quadworths travel around the multiverse freely, it would tear up The Void causing a massive blackhole that would suck everything in around it. In short, the multiverse, and everything in it would end via being squished into a pebble.” She tapped her staff on the ground. It was her way of making sure she had their attention, especially Negaduck.

“So, to prevent its total destruction, the Multiverse limits the number of organisms traveling through the Void. It does so by not allowing any anyone to stay without someone taking their place. Same number in, same number out.” Negaduck gave her a confused look. “What does that have to do with getting back to Negaverse?” He asked. Poe flew over to Negaduck, “You didn’t come here alone.” The raven said. Poe reached under his wing and produced a Doberman puppy. Negaduck snatched up the small dog. The tiny hound opened his eyes and the first thing it saw was Negaduck. “I guess I need to name you, don’t I?” Negaduck asked. He had completely forgotten about it since he came to Posiverse. The pup gave him a confused look. Negaduck thought for a moment. “Killjoy.” He said. “From now on your name is Killjoy.” Killjoy didn’t have a clue as to what his name meant. He stuck out his tongue and kissed his “parent.” This caught Negaduck off guard, he even smiled a little. He quickly frowned. “We are going to have a talk about your cuteness.” Negaduck said sternly.

The duckling’s heart almost skipped a beat. “The soldier back in the alley!” he exclaimed. Magica nodded “Reid Talon must be sent back to the Negaverse with you.” she replied. Negaduck frowned “Wouldn’t it be safer to just kill him and you go in his stead?” he asked Magica. Drake interjected. “Is you first answer to every problem to kill it?” Negaduck faced Drake. “Hey, I might not have the greatest track record with thinking things through, but I am not stupid,” Negaduck shot back. “Powerful people in the Negaverse want me dead, and Nega - Talon works for them.” Drake still looked unconvinced. “Look, do you have a better idea?” Negaduck said in a slightly annoyed tone. He was getting tired of Drake’s biased mightier- than- thou- attitude. “Well,” Drake started. “Since, according to you, Talon doesn’t know what a quadworth is or that the Multiverse exist. I have practiced hypnotism; we can make him think the was dreaming or the like and he never left Negaverse.”

“We could do that,” Negaduck answered. “Provided the chicken hadn’t gotten himself arrested for being armed. You said it yourself. The possession of arms is not permitted in St. Canard.” Magica listened to the ducklings go back and forth on how to get Nega – Reid Talon back to Negaverse without him being the wiser. Each plan became less unintelligible than the last. Magica eventually interjected, when they had come up with a plan involving a kangaroo, a Viking helmet, and a jar of peanut butter. “Unfortunately, boys” the witch said, trying not to laugh at them. “Poe has already gone back to the alley and Talon was gone. We have to find him first before we even think about going back to the Negaverse. Finding Nega- Reid is our top priority right now.”

Magica walked over to her desk and went to work. She placed a blue saucer on top of it and open the drawers of her desk. From it, from it she retrieved a vile, claw clippings from some animal, and lastly a newt. The witch mixed the ingredients together and whispered incantations. She opened a box on the table contain various objects. Magic pulled out a green feather from the box and dropped it into the saucer. Orange smoke rose from the saucer and took form of St. Canard. It lingered for a minute before changing into a rooster then it dissipated back into the saucer. Drake watched as Magica peered into the dish. De Spell had often tutored him in the science of Alchemy. She picked up a scrap of paper off her desk and jotted down an address.

“Negaduck,” She said, handing the note to him. “Tomorrow you and Drake will go to this location. Talon should be here.” Negaduck took the note read it over, then showed it to Drake. Magica tapped her staff again and the boys looked at her in attention. “I know this bird’s path,” she said, tapping the note. “If you do not seem him at this spot tomorrow, come back to the Cirque immediately. He will come here.” Negaduck spoke up. “How do you do know that he will come here?” he asked. “Because I am a fortune teller.” Magica answered as if she had been waiting for the question. The curtain, that acted as Magica’s front door to her caravan, was flung to the side. A lanky female duck marched in, she had long grey hair and thin limbs. Morgana hid behind the entrance.

“Aunt Shera!” Drake exclaimed. “What are you doing here!?” he asked. Shera rushed him and gave him a hug like a frightened mother, nearly knocking Negaduck over in the process. However, she quickly released Drake and scowled at him. “Where have you been?!” Shera demanded. “You know to check in with me when you get home. Especially on the day the Beagle Boys come!” her expression turned back to fear. “When you didn’t come home, I drove to the school to see if you were there and Instructed Elmo to have you go wait for me at our trailer until I came back. When I did return. I found the trailer empty and your crossbow gone, and I knew what you planned to do.” Shera became angry again. “What were you thinking?! They could have killed you!” Shera pulled in Drake in for another hug.” Hell, if you scare me like that again, I’ll kill you myself!” she said in tears.

Negaduck watch the little family moment. He hadn’t had that kind of closeness with his own. The only family he had left was trying to kill him. Negaduck shook of a feeling of envy, he had to remind himself that he wanted nothing to do with Nega – Sergei. Drake got off luckier than he did. Shera broke herself away from Drake. “Who are you, and why do you look like Drake?” she asked Negaduck. “This is Negaduck,” Magica responded. “He is Drake’s counterpart from the Negaverse.” Shera gave him a look of concern. “I’d ask what happen, but news travels fast through the grapevine in Cirque Du Duck.” Shera Anyway, Morgana said you were here, Ratcliff is holding an emergency meeting at the fire pick regarding the Beagle Boy attack. He wants everyone there.” Magica escorted everyone out of her caravan. “Very well,” she said. “We shall finish this discussion later.

”The fire pit was filled with people, everyone looked scared. They had buried Luiseno, well what was left of him. There was no sign of Elmo Sputterspark. The crowd was a buzz, frantic stages hands muttered about possibly leaving town. Others thought to beg for forgiveness. Negaduck never understood why these people didn’t finned for themselves like they did in the Negaverse. Come to think of it, there wasn’t even a Cirque Du Duck in the Negaverse. “Did something happen to it during the Anasian War?” Negaduck thought. It was certainly a place to check out after he got back. Negaduck to notice of Drake slipping away as if he didn’t want to be follow. So naturally, Negaduck tailed his counterpart out of the crowd.

Drake was sure he was alone. He reached into his pocket and retrieve raw beef he had bought from the market earlier that day. The duckling made his way to the open field at the back end of the Cirque’s property. Hidden amongst the grass, was a trapdoor. It led to a cellar the cirque used in case of a tornado. Drake opened the door. “What are you doing?” a voice aske behind him. Drake nearly jumped out of his skin. He whirled around to see Negaduck standing on the other side of the trapdoor. Killjoy poked his head out from Negaduck’s coat and let out a small yip. Negaduck pushed his head back him in. Something down in the cellar barked. “No, stay!” Drake said in a command voice. “What’s down there?” Negaduck asked. Drake shut the wooden trapdoor with a slam. “Nothing.” he replied.

“You were just talking to a door; you are a terrible liar.” Negaduck deadpanned. Negaduck walked to the other side of the trap door and opened it up. A flurry of white fur jumped out of the cellar and forced Negaduck to the ground. Negaduck was met by the snarling teeth of a large white wolf. A low growl came from Negaduck’s coat. Killjoy crawled from beneath it and put himself between the wolf and Negaduck. The tenacious pup stared down his elder. “Snow,” Drake said raising his voice. “Heel!”. The wolf calmed and walked over to drake. “I am sorry,” Drake apologized. “She’s about to have a litter, and is a little territorial. She picked the cellar as her den.” Negaduck pulled himself up. Killjoy was still glaring at Snow. “Killjoy!” Negaduck hissed. “Unless you want to become her dinner, stop challenging her.” The pup bowed his head and went back under Negaduck’s coat.

Drake unwrapped the raw beef and tossed it in the cellar. Snow went after it, knocking Negaduck down again, and disappeared into the cellar. Drake closed the trapdoor and locked. “So, why do you have a wolf in there.” Negaduck asked, getting up and dusting the dirt off himself again. “I suppose, someone would have found out about her eventually,” Drake said. “Just please don’t tell Shera. She’s –“ Negaduck cut in in a deadpan. “Is an overprotective parent.” Drake sighed. “Yes,” he answered. “She’ll have a cow.” Negaduck could somewhat relate to Drake on this. Douglass would always flip out anytime Negaduck would not come home for days, though he knew the duckling could take care of himself. The old goose is going to have a heart attack when finds out that Negaduck got stuck Posiverse for a day and half. Negaduck will never hear the end of it.

”Anyway,” Drake continued. “A few months back, she escaped from her transport confinement on a train. Snow was on her way to join some rich guy’s private zoo in Rio De Squawk. However, the train had an accident, causing Snow’s cage to fall out of its boxcar. She was injured in the process. Long story short, I found her, treated her wounds, found out she was pregnant, and set her up here.” Negaduck frowned. “So, it didn’t occur to you to call to call the local zoo?” he asked. “It did at first,” Drake responded. “But they don’t have the greatest track record. They have been caught red handed smuggling diamonds in animals for the Beagle Boys.” Drake went quiet for a moment. “That gang has their hand in everything in St. Canard, even the police, you have to be careful who you trust.”

“It wouldn’t be so bad if you eliminated the problem” Negaduck retorted. Drake turned to Negaduck; he was still upset over Negaduck’s brutal attack on the Beagle Boys. “Because,” Drake growled. “I not about to kill someone, even it would make me no better than the Beagle Boys.” Negaduck knew he hit a nerve. “So.” Negaduck responded. “They only speak one language, best to learn it, otherwise they will continue to terrorized St. Canard, because they can. Trust me, I would know.” Negaduck paused. “I’m not a stranger to people like them.” Drake started to make his way back to the fire pit. “I just can’t determine someone’s fate like that.” Drake said before he turned around back to Negaduck. “Why should you?” Negaduck thought for a moment. “Honestly, I haven’t thought about it much,” Negaduck responded. “I guess it’s just instinct to hack a guy to pieces when he threatens you with a machete.”

Drake,” a voice called from across the field. “We are about to start, who is that with you?” An elderly rat came into view. “Mr. Ratcliff,” Drake said. “This is Negan, my cousin.” Drake grabbed Negaduck’s arm and dragged him in the direction of the camp. Drake didn’t want the old man to discover Snow. “Sorry,” he said. “We will see you at the fire pit.” Ratcliff put his hand on Drake’s shoulder. “Hold it young man,” Ratcliff instructed. Ratcliff handed a dog bag to Drake. “Your friend in the cellar is eating for more than one.” Ratcliff continued. “Be sure to give this to her.” Drake and Negaduck looked dumbfounded. “How did you know Snow was down there?!” Negaduck asked. “My boy, there is not much around here that I don’t know about.” Ratcliff answered. Ratcliff approached Negaduck and looked him over.

“Magica had told me that everyone had a counterpart in the Negaverse,” He said. “Just didn’t expect the them to look exactly like us.” Negaduck didn’t know what to make of the old man. He was close enough to Magica for her to tell him about the Multiverse, and knew exactly who he was. “But where are my manners,” Ratcliff continued. He took off his hat and bowed. “As already well know, my name is Bart T. Ratcliff, owner and proprietor of Cirque Du Duck.” Ratcliff stood up again and put his hat back on his head. “Come now boys,” he said. “Everyone is waiting, go find Shera at the fire pit.” Ratcliff escorted the pair back to the crowd were Shera was waiting.

“Where did you two go?” she asked. “We went to let Killjoy go do his business.” Negaduck lied. Drake gave a sigh of relief, he was afraid Negaduck would rat him out after Snow jumped him, or that he was just as bad as liar as he was. Then again, Negaduck was his opposite. He wasn’t a bad person, at least Drake had no reason to believe he was, but his “act – first- ask – questions - later” way of thinking was definitely going to be a problem in the long run. Drake thought it best to be wary of his yellow-clad counterpart for the time being. However, Negaduck right about one thing. The Beagle Boys will never learn until someone says no more to their bullshit. If nobody did, things won’t get better for anyone.

The crowd grew quiet when Ratcliff appeared near the center of the fire pit. “I assume we all know why know why I have called this gathering” Ratcliff began. No one said a word, but Negaduck could feel the eyes of the camp peer into him. Negaduck could recognize some of the faces from the crowd, they were present when he had attacked the Beagle Boys. His mind began to race, Negaduck had killed may times before, but only benefited from it until now. “Earlier today,” Ratcliff continued. “The Beagle Boys came to Cirque Du Duck. However, as I was told, they left in a hurry after one of their own was killed. This place seems to be a beacon for death isn’t it?” A voice shouted from the crowd. It was Goose Lee. “It was that Negan kid,” he said pointing out Negaduck from the crowd.

Ratcliff stopped his speech and eyed Lee. “If you ask me, we should give the little monster to the Beagle Boys, maybe they will forgive us.” Lee continued. Negaduck slide his hand on to his chainsaw, he wasn’t going down without a fight. “Now, now Lee,” Ratcliff said as if Lee was a child. “We can’t make any rash decisions here. We don’t even know if the Beagle Boy think we are responsible for this.” Ratcliff scanned the crowd before continuing. “It seems that Elmo has yet to return, until then we cannot say for certain what the Beagle Boys plan to do.” Lee glowered at the ringmaster. “Even so,” Lee shot back “This kid killed someone without reason, he is dangerous we need to get rid of him.” The crowd began to murmur in agreement. Several people surround Negaduck, he wrapped his hand around starter.

Shera grabbed Negaduck's shoulder and pulled him close to her protectively. “Lee don’t you dare lay a hand on him!” she barked. This took Negaduck aback, Shera barely knew him and yet she was ready to face a potential mob to defend him. “Besides,” she continued. “Everyone knows you have been pining after Ratcliff’s job for years. This is just another stunt to make him look bad.” The murmuring continued and Lee turned his menace to Shera, who had called him out. Ratcliff chuckled. “It’s true that the child did kill one of them,” Ratcliff said. “However, the Beagle Boys came to do more than just pick up protection money.” Ratcliff gestured to the crowbars, bats, and other weapons on the ground. “According to witnesses, Thick threaten to harm the boy, so this is a matter of self-defense.”

Goose Lee didn’t miss a beat. “You may be right,” he said. “But there is a difference between self-defense and hacking a guy to pieces.” Ratcliff rolled his eyes at the old goose. “Negan, is member of the Mallards family,” Ratcliff said. “The Mallards have been a part of Cirque Du Duck for generations and we protect our own.” Ratcliff’s tone turned serious. “Besides, if Negan and Drake didn’t act and the Beagle Boys attacked, it would have been a lot worst.” The crowd grew quiet again. “Elmo is not here,” Ratcliff continued. “It is most likely that he is with the Beagle Boys.” He paused. “Though Elmo is a member of their gang, he works as my spy.” The murmuring started again, very few knew of Elmo Sputterspark’s involvement with Beagle Boys.

“We will wait until his return figure out a course of action.” Ratcliff instructed. “Until then we stay put. However, I would advise that we lock all our doors tonight and travel in groups.” Silence fell among the cirque troop again. “This concludes our meeting,” Ratcliff said calmly. “Have a nice evening.” After a few minutes the crowd began to disperse. Negaduck, The Mallards, Magica, Morgana, and Ratcliff remained. Ratcliff’s eyes fell upon Negaduck. “Magica had filled me in on your predicament.” He said. “Since you are stuck here, do you know where you will be staying the night?” Morgana chimed in. “We have the guest tents; he could stay there.” Ratcliff shook his head. “No,” he said. “I might have said that the troupe couldn’t lay a hand on him, doesn’t me they will listen.”

“He will stay with us,” Shera said. “We have the extra room.” Magica spoke up, “Than it’s settled. Negaduck will stay with Shera. In the meantime, I will begin working on a new talisman.” The witch’s gaze fell upon Drake and Negaduck. “This doesn’t change anything,” she said. “The both of you will go into town tomorrow, find Reid Talon, and bring him back to the cirque.” The boys nodded and followed Shera back to her trailer. Morgan skipped back to Magica’s caravan. Ratcliff waited until the trio was out of sight. “Do you think it wise to lie to them like that?” he asked Magica. “When they learn the truth of Nega- Reid Talon, you might lose their trust, at least Negaduck’s.”

Magica sighed. “I need to see how they work as a team,” she answered. “They won’t have a choice down the line, and I need to know if they can do it. Counterparts are notorious for fighting one another.” Magica went quiet. “It won’t matter in the long run. At some point down the line, they will be on their own. Certain events will happen, and both ducks will want to bring down Nega-Scrooge McDuck.” Magica began to walk back to her caravan. She turned to face Ratcliff. “The Cirque is lost and you know it.” She said. “Why do you stay?” Ratcliff sat on a nearby log and pulled out a pipe to smoke it. “I have hope that the cirque will pull through,” he answered. “It has for so many years. However, I am not about to put everyone in danger if that is what you’re thinking. If Elmo is not back by tomorrow evening, I’ll have everyone pack up and leave.”

Magica left. Ratcliff was alone smoking his pipe and watching the fire die out. Unknown to him, he was being watched. Goose Lee hid behind a nearby stand and had heard Ratcliff’s backup plan. “Sorry, Ratcliff, he said barely above a whisper. “Elmo will not be returning, not after I report this to F.O.W.L.” The criminal organization had paid Lee handsomely to keep an eye on Ratcliff and the Cirque Du Duck. Posi – Talon had already radioed to him that Elmo was taken care of, and ordered Lee to make sure nobody left the Cirque. By the time Ratcliff realizes that his grandson is not coming back it will be too late. Lee had hoped to get in touch with Talon regarding Negan. However, the radio wasn’t able to pick up his line. Lee thought it was weird, the line they used usually worked. The goose figured he try again in the morning. He snuck away and left Ratcliff alone at the fire pit.

Meanwhile

Negaduck instantly felt sick when he entered the trailer. There was nothing wrong about the home, in fact it was completely normal, and that was the problem. Negaduck was used to living in war torn St. Canard, and was reminded that the Anasian War never happen in Posi – Sanitatem. The dwelling was covered in family photos, some were of Sergei Mallard, a duck that actually cared for his family. Negaduck shift his gaze back to Drake. A feeling of envy surged in his mind. He wondered, that if Sergei Starling was a good man, and didn’t take Nega – McDuck offer’s, would his mother still be alive? Would he actually be happy? Negaduck shook the thought from his mind. What could have been didn’t matter. “I need to focus on my main goal” he reminded himself. Sergei Starling was going to die by his hand for his crimes, and nothing was going to change that.

Shera went to the far side of the trailer and opened a cabinet. She proceeded to unloaded several bowls and a large pot. “We are having beef stew tonight,” she said. Shera opened the small fridge next to the cabinets and frowned. “Looks like I forgot the milk again.” She continued. “I will need to run to the store and get some.” Shera grabbed her purse and headed to the door. The parent eyed her charges as she put her hand on the knob. “Don’t leave the trailer under any circumstances.” She said sternly. “I mean it.” Shera took the key on the hook next to the door and left. Drake and Negaduck were alone in the trailer. Killjoy wiggled his way out of Negaduck’s jacket and hopped to the floor. He sniffed around his new surroundings. The pup eventually made himself comfortable in a pile of laundry on the floor.

Negaduck could hear Shera start the car, and listened. Once he was sure she was gone, he bolted to the door and looked out its window. He grabbed Drake’s crossbow and shoved into Drake’s hands. “Come on,” Negaduck said making his way to the exit. Drake looked a little confused and annoyed. “Where are we going?” Drake asked in a concern tone. “Why do I need to bring my bow?” Negaduck checked the windows, he had a paranoid looked his face. “I might be under Ratcliff’s protection, but that can only go so far.” Negaduck replied. Drake placed his crossbow on the floor. “Don’t you think that maybe you're taking this a little too far?” He asked. Negaduck stood by the door with his hand grasped around its handle. “I’ve got a way of reading people,” Negaduck said. “I don’t trust Goose Lee; he was way too quick to go against Ratcliff.” Drake interjected. “Lee is always like that.” he said with a hint of annoyance.

“It is not the fact that he went against Ratcliff that worries me.” Negaduck said in a serious tone for once. “It’s that people were ready and will to follow him. It seems he has been persuading some of the cirque.” Drake crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow. “Look,” Negaduck “You said it yourself, the Beagle Boys have their hand in everything, even the police. If they are that organized, then they probably have eyes and ears everywhere. Including the Cirque.” At this point Drake was getting fed up with Negaduck’s paranoid behavior. However, he wasn’t wrong. Lee was constantly running against Ratcliff, and came close to taking control of Cirque Du Duck. The only reason he wasn’t able to was because Posi - Scrooge McDuck owned the land it was on and would have kicked the Cirque Du Duck from the property if Lee took over.

“We can’t trust him or anyone other than your aunt, Magica, Poe and, Radcliff.” Negaduck said. Drake approached his uneasy counterpart. He slowly reached for Negaduck's chainsaw, and relieved it from him of his blade. “True, we can’t trust most people,” Drake responded. “We can’t just sit here hold the fort all night.” Negaduck slammed his hand into his fist. “Your right,” he said. Negaduck grabbed his chainsaw from Drake. “It’d be much simpler to get rid of the problem permanently.” Drake moved between Negaduck and the exit. “No!” Drake exclaimed. “If you do that, it will warrant Lee’s point, and Ratcliff won’t be able to stop him.” Negaduck groaned in defeat. “I hope I don’t regret listening to you.” he said. Negaduck went to over to the nearby couch and slumped right in.

Drake gave a sigh of relief. He grabbed a chair, placed it front of Negaduck, and sat in it backwards. “While we are on the subject of who can and can’t trust.” Drake said, his tone turning serious like Negaduck’s. “We both know we can’t trust Goose Lee, that is a given. It’d be wise to keep an eye on him for the time being. However, there is another person we should be wary about, and probably investigate.” He paused. “Nega - Sanitatem Magica De Spell.” Negaduck sat up from the couch. It was his turn to be skeptical. “Why do you suspect her of foul play?” he asked. “Doesn’t she need us to fulfill some prophecy?” Then again, she is very reluctant to share any information, regarding the supposed dooms day. Any time he or Drake asked about it her reply is always the same. All you need to do is trust that I know what I am doing.

“You might be able to read people, but I can see the environment and facts.” Drake responded. He got up from his chair and picked a book from the bookshelf. Drake return to his seat and showed it to Negaduck. It was an old leather-bound book filled with loose papers and sealed shut with a leather buckle. On the books cover was a silhouette of a raven and a female duck. At the bottom of the illustration was “Property of Clan De Spell”. “Magica lent it to me,” Drake started to explain. “Said I could use it to study alchemy.” Negaduck took the book from Drake and flipped through the pages. “What does this have to do with Magica?” he asked. “Why are you even studying alchemy? I thought you didn’t believe in magic.”

Drake took a slight offense to Negaduck's remark and took the book back. “Alchemy is not magic!” he said. “It is a science of changing matter from on stage to the other. To answer your other question, I’m only learn the science because I think it can add a certain flare to my act.” Negaduck wanted to argue that alchemy was a form of magic, but decided to agree to disagree. Drake thumbed through the old book. Once he found the page he was looking for, he showed Negaduck. “This is what worries me.” Drake said pointing at the page’s title. “Tracker’s Potion”. Drake handed the book back to Negaduck. “Earlier, back at her caravan, De Spell made this potion to track down Reid Talon.” Drake explained. “However, in order for it to work, you need something that belonged to the thing you’re trying to track.”

Negaduck read the page that listed the ingredients needed to create the potion. Magica had followed the recipe to the letter. The only thing she used that was not listed was a green feather. “Do, you see the problem?” Drake asked. Negaduck shook his head. “I assume that it is green feather she used,” he replied. “And the feather belonged to Nega – Reid Talon.” Drake took the book from Negaduck and put it back on the shelf. “Don’t you find it odd that she had it in the first place?” Drake pressed. “Or that she knew his name before you told her?” Negaduck got up from the couch. “Come to think of it,” he said. “That’s true, and once more she was quick to answer as to how she knew where he be. “I am a fortune teller,” she says.” Negaduck said, imitating her voice.

“Yet there was nothing in her book that could explain how she knew where he was going, and going to be.” Drake continued. “Negaduck looked to the floor. “Who even is Reid Talon anyway?” Negaduck asked. “Why is Magica so sure he will come back here if we don’t find him first?” Drake shrugged. “I don’t know,” Drake said sadly. “What I do know is that there is more to this than she is telling us.” Both ducklings grew quiet. Negaduck went to the couch and sat back down. He thought he knew the witch, but now with what Drake has revealed, he began to wonder if he knew at all. “Now what?” Negaduck asked his host. Drake produced a cardboard box from a compartment underneath the table, and placed it on top. “Now,” Drake answered. “All we can do is wait until morning.” Negaduck read the name on the box “SORRY”

1 hour later

Drake and Negaduck were on their 3rd round of the game of sweet revenge. It was a nice distraction from the day’s events. It was also used as an opportunity to learn about each other’s world. Drake got a real prospective of just how bad it is over in the Negaverse. Magica wasn’t kidding when she said Nega -Scrooge McDuck was a vile man. Negaduck seemed very interested in the technological advancement of Posi-Sanitatem. He said the Negaverse was behind because of Anasian War, and any that were made, were used by Nega – McDuck’s forces or the rich. Drake pondered if the mysterious patron of the Beagle Boys were to continue with their corruption, would Posiverse head the same way as the Negaverse? Drake shook the thought from his head. He told himself he was over thinking it.

Shera entered the trailer with groceries and set them on top of one the counter. “O.K.,” she said, washing her hands. “I will start cooking, while you two clean yourselves up. You reek.” Drake cringed; it was the first time he realized since the fight with the Beagle Boys, that he was covered in dirt and grim. The Duckling cared very much for his appearance. “Dibbs on the first bath!” he exclaimed and ran down the bathroom. “It’s just a little dirt Drake,” Shera said annoyed. “It’s not like you preforming anytime soon anyway, your grounded remember?” Drake stopped in his tracks. “I still have to work the concessions stand during the next show,” Drake replied. “I still represent Cirque Du Duck, and I doubt costumers want dirt in their food.”

Shera frowned. “You might have a point there,” she said. “However, tonight’s show is cancelled due to the Beagle Boy attack. We are not about to endanger costumers if they decide to attack again.” Drake went silent. “I see,” he said. Then disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Negaduck alone with Shera. “Take your coat off and I wash it for you. Just put in that bin by the couch.” She instructed. Negaduck did as she asked, it was nice to for someone to do something for you without wanting something in return. That kind of generosity, or any generosity in general, was rare in the Negaverse. Negaduck placed his yellow coat in the bin, and a bag with two syringes a smaller bag of powder fell out the pocket. Negaduck had completely forgotten he had drugs on him.

Shera’s eyes flickered. She snatched up the bag before Negaduck could react. Negaduck was used to getting a chewed out by Douglass anytime he caught him with the drugs. Yet one looked at Shera’s furious face and he knew she was going to be worst. The exit was blocked off by Shera. Negaduck braced for what was to come. The yelling, the screaming, and what- the-were-you-thinking. “What is this?” Shera asked in an inquisitive tone as she waved the bag in front of his bill. “It depends on how bad it looks.” Negaduck replied trying to play coy. “Negaduck,” Shera said in a warning tone. Killjoy emerged from his nest to see what was going on. “Drugs,” he replied not even trying to cover it. Negaduck might like the idea of getting pinched, but if he was gonna it caught, he was going to own it.

“Heroin?” she asked, examining the bag in the light. “Yes.” Negaduck answered. Shera walked over to a chair adjacent to the couch. “I haven’t seen this in ages.” She said sniffing the bag. “Well not since Sergei cut me off.” Shera eyed Negaduck who hadn’t moved. “Why do you have this anyway?” she asked. Negaduck was prepared to answer that. “Because it is an addictive chemical,” He deadpanned knowing a lecture was coming. He was used to the same song and dance from Douglass Muddlefoot. “It is bad, I know but I don’t care.” Shera gave a hurt and confused look. “That’s why you refuse to stop.” She responded in calm tone. “I asked why you took it in the first place.” Negaduck couldn’t understand it. He was prepared for a shouting match. Not to be quizzed on his life’s choices.

“Back when I was beginning high school; Sergei and I were in a car accident that killed our parents.” Shera continued. “Sergei got off with a few bruises, I however, suffered broken bones, and cuts from the windshield. They kept me in the hospital under a lot of morphine until the Sanitatem Trance did its job. Unfortunately, the trance can’t heal the mind, and I got hooked on morphine.” Shera looked at the small bag as if she was tempted. She put the bag on the table. “I wanted more,” she said. “When the hospital didn’t give it to me, I found heroin as the alternative. The only way I could get the drugs was through the only people that would deal the drug with the cirque.” She sighed. “The Sputtersparks.”

“I spent my life savings up that point on the White China, and thought I kept a well-guarded secret.” Shera started to cringe of the thought the subject, but pressed forward. “Naturally, Sergei found out and he confronted me.” Shera continued. Negaduck wondered why she was telling him her sob story, but didn’t interrupt. Anything to avoid a lecture. It was unusual to hear of Sergei in a good light. “He pleaded with me to stop, I was a mess and in deep with the Sputtersparks. When I refused, he took matters into his own hands.” Shera pick up a framed photo of the wall. It depicted a younger Shera and Sergei; they look old enough to be teenagers. “Sergei reported the Sputterspark’s underground business to the authorities, before the they came under the Beagle Boy’s influence.” Shera continued.

“He didn’t tell them that I was buying their product.” Her tone turned somber. “My brother also waited until after the Sputterspark’s had their son Elmo, so the child wouldn’t be born in jail. It was at Elmo’s mother’s request. Even in the end, Sergei Mallard wanted to help people, even criminals.” Shera put the picture back and wandered back to the counter, picking up the bag. “The whole experience was enough to for me to learn to hate the vile drug. I haven’t touched it since then. Serge on the other hand, wanted to help people like me, so he decided to become a doctor.” Shera picked up the bag then looked at Negaduck. “However,” she carried on. “You and I both know that Nega – Sergei would never have done that. Magica told me all about what kind of man he is.” Her voice turning to disgust.

Magica had been sharing information about him with her, he wondered if Douglass knew anything about Drake. “He abandoned you,” She said. Negaduck could feel his blood boil at the mention of his name. “I never needed my fath- that man.” Negaduck said angerly, he was trembling. Shera raised an eyebrow. “Of course not,” Shera responded. “He does seem to scare you though.” Negaduck’s face went red. “I-I m not scared of him” Negaduck said in a foul tone, but he couldn’t look her in the eye when he did. “Oh, really?” Shera replied. “You still wear a mask, yet you know his quadworth capabilities can’t take him out of Nega Sentitatem, you ran from a guard because he could have exposed you to Nega- Sergei.” Shera stood up. “You have been uneasy since you set foot in this trailer. Is because you see the face of the man who took everything from you, upsets you?”

Tears began to burn down the duckling’s face. For the first time in years, he was going to have to relive the day his mother was taken from him and he was powerless to do anything. Had nothing really changed since then? Was he still the weak boy he was before? “I’m going to ask you again, and this time I want a straight answer.” She said sternly. “Why do you have this!” Negaduck wiped away his tears. “It started out as way to easy the pain after I got into street fights and illegal boxing rings.” Negaduck began, it was the first time he had been honest with himself. “Medical supplies, is hard to come by in Nega – St. Canard.” He explained. “At first, I took it as need, but then...” his voice trailed off. Shera urged him to continued. “Go on.”

“It became an escape,” Negaduck went on. “Magica’s Prediction has everyone in the Muddlefoot Syndicate watching my every move. Douglass wants me take over when I older. They think I’m some born leader, but I’m not! I am just scared kid, who wants nothing to do with it!” At that point Negaduck was shouting. “My greatest fear is that, despite how hard I train, or no matter what I do. I’m still the same weak child that should have died in the Void!” Negaduck was breathing heavily. Shera tossed the bag to the floor and knelt down. She wrapped her arms around him. “Its O.K.” she said. “It is not weakness to remember or to have doubt.

”Negaduck fell silent. He didn’t know how to react. He used to being treated like the trouble maker he was. He mostly had to fend for himself in the Nega – St. Canard after N.S took over. Sure, he had Douglass, but the goose only cares about N. M’s prophecy and keeping Negaduck alive to do it. Herb was his best friend, but even he began to distance himself from him. No one had really cared about him in years until now. Negaduck held on to Shera, slumped to the floor, and cried. He hadn’t done so since he lost his mother. After several minutes, Shera brought Negaduck to his feet and wiped his face. “Sometimes a little catharsis can go a long way,” She said. “Feel better?” Negaduck nodded and even cracked a smile.

Shera picked up the bag of white powder. “Do you still want this?” She asked. Negaduck stared at it for a moment and took the bag. “No,” he answered. “but Douglass is going to want it back. Besides, I don’t need a crutch.” He shrugged and looked off in a different direction. “Negaduck...” Shera said in a warning tone. Negaduck told the truth. “Fine, I was going to use it to drug Reid Talon, and drag him back to Negaverse.” Shera rolled her eyes. She didn’t approve of Drake and Negaduck going to look for this man tomorrow, nor the fact that Negaduck wanted to drug him. At least it was better than the boys’ idea of a kangaroo in a Viking helmet. However, if getting this Reid Talon into Negaverse was the only way to get Negaduck home she was onboard with it.

“You know,” she said. “You and Drake have a tell when you lie. You shrug and avoid eye contact.” Negaduck look surprised. “Really?” he asked. “I’ll have to remember that the next time I talk to Douglass.” Shera changed the subject. “Let’s get back to making dinner.” She said. “I assume you know how cook meat?” Negaduck caught himself before he shrugged again. “No,” he answered. Shera however, wasn’t fooled. “Then there is no time like the present to learn.” She replied grabbing the ingredients and a large pot and made her way to the door. “Come on.” She instructed. Negaduck followed and opened the door for her. Killjoy could sense that everything was going to be ok and went back to sleep.

15 minutes later.

Drake exited the trailer. Negaduck and Shera were talking as the stew cooked. They greeted him as he made his way to the small fire they had started. Drake noticed that Negaduck wasn’t in a hurry to get back to the Negaverse anymore, and he had was in better spirits. Negaduck went inside the camper to take his shower. He had told them this the first time he’s had hot water in years. Killjoy came outside as Negaduck came in, the Doberman smelled the pleasant aroma of dinner. “Ratcliff came by.” Shera said. Her tone changed to that of worry. “Elmo has still not come back yet. He is worried about him.” Drake was also concerned by this. It wasn’t like Elmo to not check in with him. The rat loved Shera’s cooking and never miss out on dinner with them.

Negaduck returned 10 minutes later. Drake scooped him a bowl and handed it to him. “Really!?” Negaduck exclaimed. “I can have this much?!” Drake was taken aback. He had briefly forgotten that Nega – St. Canard was a war-torn area. “Negaduck must find first world problem really annoying” Drake thought to himself. Once they had finished their food and fed the scraps to Killjoy, they return to the camper for the night. There was still no sign of Elmo Sputterspark. Drake wondered what could have happened to him. He shook his head. There was valid reason for Elmo not have made contact, given current events, he might be trying to be extra cautious, so he would get found out. Drake had known Elmo for years, he was fine.

Back at the Electrical Plant.

Posi- Reid Talon couldn’t comprehend it. He sat across an empty lot at café, smoking an overpriced cigar. The empty lot was once the electrical plant. The Electrical Plant had caught fire had burned down in the afternoon. Agents he had in the force said it was caused by an electrical discharge, but it wasn’t the electric chair. That was destroyed before the fire. Megavolt and Burger Beagle were missing to. Ma Beagle had reported that Burger hadn’t returned to the junkyard and Thick hadn’t seen him either. Talon didn’t know if Megavolt was alive or dead, which concerned him. The rooster might have brainwashed him, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t still loyal to Ratcliff. Sure, it was obvious that Megavolt hated the old rat, but Talon didn’t deal with maybes. Talon couldn’t contact his agent in the Cirque Du Duck either. The radio that they used to keep in touch was lost in the fire. Talon blew out smoke. “I guess it can’t be helped.” he thought. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.

Chapter 7

https://masked-mallards.tumblr.com/post/190919389774/masked-mallards-the-multiverse-and-everything

Chapter1

https://masked-mallards.tumblr.com/post/190578269234/masked-mallards-the-multiverse-and-everything

#Negaduck #negaverse #darkwing duck #megavolt #nega steelbeak #Steelbeak #oc #fanfic #Beagle Boys #ma beagle #negawing duck #nega magica de spell #morgana macawber #Goose lee

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venusxxlangdon · 5 years

Text

Dance With the Devil. Part Two — The Great Ball

Summary: Michael gives a ball at his castle, but it’s actually the after party he is looking forward to. Reader just wishes for one thing: to make it out alive. Buckle up, it’s gonna be one hell of a night.

Warnings: dark outpost! Michael, fem!reader, smut, blasphemy, graphic descriptions of hell and demons, language, oral (male receiving), humiliation, degradation, overall violence, blood, darkfic, non-con

Words: 6.4k

A/N: I have no idea how my soft dom Michael ass has come up with it. This is something completely out of my style, but I like the thrill (maybe I am just a local Lars von Trier lmao). Part 3 (the final one) is coming soon!

A freezing breath of the wind brushed off the bare skin of her thighs that were no longer covered with the nightgown. It was shredded into pieces; the delicate silk was left to nothing but dirty rags. She slowly tried to open her eyes, but the painful impulses of a headache shot through her temples made her wince quietly and close them again. The dull pain in her whole body was so intense as if she was run over by a train; someone collected her piece by piece and carelessly glued them together. She felt like a broken doll. Her arms were bent outward in an unnatural way, and she cautiously tried to move her fingers in order to check her reflexes. The tips of her digits brushed against the ground. God, why was it so cold? Where was she?

Ignoring the blinding pain in her head, she forced her eyes open and gasped at the view: an enormous lake was spread out before her. Immense, balky silvery trees grew around it with the canopy of frost above them. She slowly sat up and a broken cry rolled off her tongue — her wounded ankle covered in clotted blood hurt like hell. Having remembered who caused her the injury, she fearfully looked around looking for the weird nasty creatures, but there was no one in sight. She was all alone in this bizarre place, freezing to death. The feeling of frightening horror washed over her in convulsive waves making her tremble violently.

Suddenly she heard a whisper. The girl turned her head and narrowed her eyes, trying to listen carefully, but she couldn’t identify the source of the sound. The wind brought another wave of shiver, she hurried to wrapped her arms around herself and started rubbing her hands up and down her shoulders in an attempt to warm up a bit. Incoherent whispering continued, and she curiously looked at the frozen surface of the lake realizing that the sound was coming from there. Enchanted, she crawled closer, hissing at the intense pain in her muscles. She gasped at the sight of the silhouettes of figures trapped under the surface. They were beating their heads against the thick layer of ice trying to break free. Their faces were grimaced in agony, but all she could hear was an audible whisper. She reached up her hand, and right when she was about to touch the surface of the lake, an unknown deep voice interrupted her:

“If I were you I wouldn’t do that”

She quickly pulled her hand back and lifted her gaze up at the man standing several feet away from her. He was tall, dressed in a green velvet jacket, a white dress shirt with a thick silk ribbon wrapped around his neck and tied in a lush bow, and jacquard slacks. She caught the sight of a big emerald brooch pinned under the collar. He looked posh. The smooth locks of his hair were coming down his shoulders in loose waves.

“Who are you?” she mumbled hoarsely and scrunched up at the sharp pain in her throat.

The man was shamelessly staring at her, and she felt uncomfortable under his heavy gaze that traveled down her half-naked body. His eyes were like fire in water: the lake behind him hued them in the implacable shade of grey. The devilish twinkles sparked in his pupils when she tried to cover her breasts.

“I am the keeper of this land”, he said in a singsong tone and spread out his hands showing off the endless parts of the Ninth circles spawned for many miles away from them.

She didn’t understand anything. A new panic attack started creeping up inside her, and she hugged herself tighter as if it would help her to stay grounded. Her chin started trembling, and she tried to blink off the salty tears welled up in her eyes.

“What is this place?” she sobbed and pulled her knees against her chest, covering her freezing feet with her palms. Her toes started turning blue, and she secretly hoped the man in front of her could help her, but his overall aura was so threatening that she wished he didn’t hurt her, to say the least.

Michael was watching her with a disgusted look on his face. The second question in a row and he was already annoyed. He couldn’t believe that it was someone Purson desired so much he had crawled into his house like a beaten dog and offered the deal. No way someone so mediocre could possess the soul that literally burned his hand when he had first touched it. The girl looked miserable and totally out of the place. He scoffed at her question thinking that the stupid bitch was going to get on his nerves with her useless rumbling and pathetic pleas. And the worst thing was the fact that he couldn’t kill her since he needed her for a greater purpose.

“Hell,” he said and with a sadistic satisfaction enjoyed the girl’s reaction to his response. She gasped and hurriedly looked around as if after Michael’s words all the demons of the underworld would craw out of the icy borrows. They would have if Michael hadn’t ordered everyone to stay in the castle and wait for his arrival. Besides, if he hadn’t come to pick the girl from the lake by himself she would have already been ravished by the demons. Sexually and spiritually. “Thank your grandmother”

At the name of her precious granny, the girl shivered and gave Michael a sidelong glance.

“What...wait, how do you know my grandma?” she tried to crawl away when Michael took a step forward with a furious look on his face. He rolled his eyes and squatted in front of her bringing his face so close to hers, that she felt his hot breath across her cheek. His long fingers grabbed her by the chin and she shivered at the cool of his chunky rings.

“Let me introduce you to the first rule: asking stupid questions leads to the consequences, so you better keep your mouth shut if you don’t want me to seal it” his thumb slid across her bottom lip and the girl froze in fear. The tears burst forth like the water from a damn, spilling down her face. She squeezed her eyes tightly fitting them back, but she felt the muscles of her chin, Michael was still keeping a steel grip of, started trembling again like a small child and let out an ugly sob.

"God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble… she started reciting the words in her head without looking at Michael. He could read her thoughts, and as the girl started praying, his face distorted in a presumptuous grin. His hysterical laughter ringed in the air mixing with the whispers of the suffering souls in the lake.

“Rule number two: no need for prayers, sweetheart” he stood up and adjusted his jacket, brushing imaginary dust off the lapels. “Your God is too far from here”

He ran the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip and tilted his head as he watched the girl curl up on the ice. She was freezing, and he could sense the blood in her veins started to pump slower.

“I have to admit that I am very disappointed how you treated my gift and my servants” she looked up at him and the thought that maybe she must have needed to pray for a peaceful death crossed her mind.

“What gift?” she mouthed, her voice barely above the whisper.

“You are oblivious indeed” Michael noted mockingly and touched her wounded ankle with his leather shoe, indifferently examining it. “The blueberry pie you didn’t seem to enjoy was my way to convey to you the sentiments of respect”

Every word was poisoned with travesty.

“And my subjects? They came to invite you to my ball, and how did you treat them? Hitting guests with a lamp is not a proper way to welcome them, darling” he giggled in a child-like manner.

She didn’t even have to reply. Michael was definitely enjoying himself and feeding off the view of the girl helplessly laying before him. Suddenly a loud raucous roar busted out in the grey sky.

Michael lifted his head and grinned at the sight of Astraroth, a great duke in the shape of a foul angel, sitting upon an infernal dragon. The demon was on his way to Michael’s castle, and, if Langdon remembered correctly, the duke was the last one from the guest list, which meant that he and the girl needed to hurry up.

He scooped her up from the ground ignoring her whimpers and pressed her weak body against his broad chest. Her arms hanged loosely around his torso, as she refused to hold on to him.

“Don’t you dare ruin my jacket,” he told her.

She felt dizzy and as if she was about to throw up when unexpectedly she was lifted off the ground and pure darkness warped around her like a thick blanket. The only things she could feel was the lean body of the man pressed against her. The muscles were still hurting her and she bit her bottom lip roughly in order to suppress the deep cry. Nothing made sense to her: who exactly the man was, why he took her, what he wanted from her, and how her grandmother was connected to all of these. If she really was in hell, could the man be....could it be Satan? Was there any chance for her to make it out alive?

xxx

She didn’t expect him to release her in a couple of minutes, and when she felt solid ground under her feet, she stumbled and fell down, twisting the injured ankle. She cried out and shot a resentful glare at Michael. But he didn’t really care, as he turned around without looking at her and made his way into a spacious room. It looked like a living room and a bedroom combined: with a king-sized bed in the center of it and a huge fireplace installed in the opposite wall. The head of a creature she had never seen before in her life was hanging right above it. She shivered at the thought of how this thing got found in possession of the man.

“What can I call you?” she dared to ask, addressing Michael’s back. He went across the room towards a wooden wardrobe, opened it and looked at the numerous pieces of fine clothes. Fashion was probably the only thing he missed the most of all things of Earth. Nobody in hell cared to wear at least something to cover themselves up thus couldn’t appreciate Michael’s outfits.

“My name is Michael Langdon” he answered, “but you must address me Master or Sir”

The stern tone of his voice he spoke with made her believe that it was useless to argue. She closed her eyes tiredly and slid down the wall not being able to stand on her feet anymore.

“Are you going to tell me why I am here?” she absentmindedly stared at the fireplace. The blue flames sparkled, sending the showers of white and blue onto a thick carpet but never radiating any sort of warmth. She was still cold.

Michael hummed and continued skimming through his closet looking for one particular piece his servants should have left for her. There it was. With a triumphant smirk on his face, he took a long red dress out of the wardrobe and carefully hanged it on the opened door.

“I’m going to explain it to you once, and you will shut up until I address you with a question, am I being clear?” he asked, and waited for her to give him a hesitant nod.

But instead of giving her the explanation Michael spit out:

“Now take off these rags” he pointed at her distorted nightgown. She looked at him in disbelief. What? Instinctively she crossed her arms protecting the remains of her dignity.

Michael rolled his eyes

“You better not make me repeat twice.” He could use his powers to undress her, but it would have been too easy. He enjoyed the scarlet blush on her pale cheeks and the way she bit her dry lips, as she looked down shamefully and with shaking fingers started sliding the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders. Her back was pressing against the wall so hard as if she was going to dissolve into it.

“As for your concern”, he paused and flicked his wrist discarding the fabric off her body because he quickly got annoyed with her slow pace. The girl didn’t expect that and a surprised “ah” slipped off her parted lips.

She curled up in the corner feeling so small and miserable. “You are here because your grandmother made a deal with my Father, but didn’t keep the promise. She framed you without even realizing it. She was more interested in saving her own ass than the prosperity of her family”, the corners of his mouth twitched in a humiliating smirk.

The girl couldn’t believe her ears. She wanted him to shut up and stop slandering her family. He was dishonoring the woman who had always been the closest relative to her. No way she was going to believe him.

“Yes, darling” Michael continued pushing her buttons, “who knew she’d turned out to be just one thirsty bitch....”

She covered her ears with her palms not being able to hear it anymore and howled in despair. An inhuman cry was drowned out form her throat and bounced off the walls of the room. The mental pain was insufferable, she dug her nails into her shoulders hoping to tear off the skin and let the feeling of shame and helplessness drown in physical suffering.

Michael closed his eyes and hummed happily enjoying the sound of her whimpers. He snapped his fingers calling over one of the creatures hiding under his bed. It appeared with a big box in its hands. The girl noticed the demon and sniveled quietly, covering her mouth to silence the scream.

“Now let’s get back to business” no matter how bad Michael wanted to continue his torture, there were things he needed to care of. The guests, for example, that were already waiting for him in the Great Hall. “Get dressed”, he took the dress off the wardrobe door and threw it at the girl. Red silk fabric covered her body like a river of blood. “And don’t forget the shoes”.

He opened the box and took out a pair of silver pumps with blackthorn straps that were supposed to go around the girl’s ankles.

She didn’t remember how she put the dress on and moreover didn’t understand what for. Everything seemed surreal. Maybe he compelled her to do it, or maybe she was so shocked that did it herself automatically. All she knew was that she found herself standing in front of the big wooden door decorated with live cobras. Nonstop crying got her feeling dazed, but in a way, she stopped being aware of her surroundings. All her feelings were reduced to the sensations: the inability to breathe properly because the dress was too tight, the unbearable headache, the crushing pain just on one side of her head that came and went in a pattern; the feeling of the thorns hurting her ankles and making them bleed out, the smell of Sulphur behind the door.

Michael took her hand in his, and with a flick of his wrist, the door opened.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” he purred in her ears when she whined after taking the first step and a shot of burning pain went down her spine. She gritted her teeth but didn’t say anything.

The Great Hall looked different this time. It was transformed into a ballroom with columns propping up the ceiling. The walls were decorated with hundreds of dead roses that were weaving the surface like spider webs. Between the walls, fountains of blood spurted up, hissing and bubbling, with large snakes wrapped around them. Making her way to the center of the room with Michael by her side, she couldn’t take her eyes off the guests. Her heart was about to beat out of her chest from a terrifying horror that rushed through her. There were headless creatures, the ones with horns, half-humans, and half-animals, and all of them reeked with a stench. When they saw her and Michael the Great Hall exploded with applause and whistling.

Michael bowed to the lords, waved at the dukes, and gave condescending nods do the demons of the lowest rank. Tonight he was feeling generous because it was his moment to shine.

“Good evening, my dear friends!” he proclaimed taking his place on the platform before the throne. Purson was there too. He was standing not far from Michael keeping his eyes on the girl. She shivered and immediately looked away biting her trembling lips. Her face was red and puffy. “It’s my honor to welcome you all here, in the Great Hall. Tonight you will witness the greatest event in the history of the Ninth Circle as this young innocent soul”, he pointed at the girl and all eyes got focused on her, “will pay her ancestor’s debt.”

Tiny creatures were serving drinks caring them on their backs. The liquid was red, but she didn’t know whether it was blood or wine.

“But before I trap her under the ice of Cocytus, let’s enjoy ourselves and dance this night away. And make sure” his eyes sparkled mischievously, “that our guest remembers it forever.”

It was a long night for her. Michael took particular joy in making her dance with the nastiest creatures of Hell. Her face turned white with fear when they put their hands on her waist and started twirling her around at inhuman pace making her head spin. They were whispering insults in her ear, calling her names and threatening her with all the things they were planning to do to her once they found her in the lake. She looked at Michael with pleading eyes hoping that he would stop this torture, but all he did was a smirk and ask another demon to join them on the dance floor.

“Please...” she mouthed at him with her eyes full of tears. Michael raised his glass as if he was drinking in her honor. He smiled baring his perfect teeth now covered with blood.

“Enjoying the evening, My Lord?” Purson wondered, approaching Michael who was sitting on his throne and watching everyone like a hawk. No matter how hard the demon had been trying to tame his mane it still looked messy. Despite the fact he was addressing Michael, his yellow eyes were glued to the girl who was on the verge of fainting by that time. Her legs were covered in blood, and she almost slipped when Furfur who was dancing with her pushed her too hard.

“Absolutely”, Michael cooed taking another sip of his drink, “but I’m looking forward to the after party” he grinned devilishly.

Purson suspiciously narrowed his eyes.

“Pardon me, My Lord. I’m afraid I don’t quite understand you.”

Of course it didn’t go unnoticed from Michael how desperately Purson wanted his prey, so he started thinking how he could play on the demon’s nerves for the sake of the revenge for all this time Purson had been humiliating him.

“Well, I think it would be an omission if I missed the opportunity to have some fun with our lady” he tapped his chin with the tips of his fingers as if he was deeply concerned with this idea.

Purson’s eyes flashed with anger. He knew Langdon would do something like that.

“We didn’t agree to that” he clenched the glass in his claws so hard, it nearly got crashed.

“And it wasn’t prohibited either”, noted Michael. He remembered the details of the deal perfectly clear. “I’ve brought the girl and by the end of the night, she’ll be trapped in the lake, see? I’m doing my part”, he winked at the demon. Purson growled, crashing the wineglass with his bare hands, but none of the muscles on Michael’s face twisted. “Now, have you told my Father?”

Two could play this game.

“I have, but he didn’t seem impressed” Purson sneered. Michael pressed his lips in a tight line. “Our Highness doubts your ability to do anything besides whipping your pathetic servants for minor disobedience”.

Michael smirked. There was no guarantee that the demon wasn’t lying, but he couldn’t hide the fact that he had informed Satan about Michael’s plans. That fact alone was enough for Langdon to feel satisfied.

“Good”, he placed his empty glass on the back of the creature that stopped by and turned his gaze back at Purson, “if you excuse me, I’ll join our guest on the dance floor”. He stood up, adjusted his jacket and flipped his hair ignoring Purson’s threatening glare.

“Don’t you dare do anything to her soul” he wrapped his claws around Michael’s wrist pulling him close.

“Get your hands off me, or I’ll demolish you right now without any second thought about our deal” Michael spat in his face.

Purson had to let him go, otherwise, everyone would have started staring. He kicked one of the servants angrily, watching Michael’s back disappear in the crowd of demons.

The girl felt numb as if someone turned off her feelings leaving only absolute emptiness inside of her. She stopped recognizing faces if one could use this term to describe horrible grimaces of the creatures that surrounded her, and she couldn’t feel her legs anymore from dancing. Her ribcage must have turned blue from how tight the corset of her dress was — she was on the verge of being suffocated all this time, and no matter how hard she tried to adjust it, she couldn’t loosen it. She gasped when Michael wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his chest.

“Seems like you are not enjoying the night” he pouted mockingly. He paused for a second to snap his fingers. The sound of a classic melody filled in the Great Hall. She did not believe her ears because it was the music for Waltz, one of the softest and the most delicate dances, which seemed totally out of this place. Michael was a sick psychopath, she thought to herself.

He placed one hand on her waist, took her other hand in his, and made the first step forward. The “rise and fall” technique gave her the feeling of elevation, as the two of them moved onto the toes and then relaxed through the knees and ankles, ending on flat feet. It would have looked mesmerizing if it hadn’t been for the grimace of pure agony on the girl’s face, as they were gliding around the floor. She felt nauseous and clang to the sleeves of Michael’s emerald jacket for some leverage. And it wasn’t because of his smell, in fact, he smelled wonderful: a mix of bergamot and labdanum; she just couldn’t bear the overall feeling of tiredness and exhaustion.

His grey eyes were watching her closely as if he was trying to see her soul as if he was looking for something in her subconscious. He twirled her around and bend her over in his hands, putting her pale breast squeezed in the tight corset on full display. He watched Purson turn red with jealousy and for the sake of pissing him off, brushed his lips against the girl’s neck. She gasped, and when he pulled her back, a self-satisfied smirk was painted across his face.

“Please, I can’t take it anymore” she whispered, her head rolled into the crook of his neck.

He chuckled and brought her face up with his fingers.

“Oh darling, you will take more than this tonight”

Every move he made was gracious, it seemed like Michael’s feet weren’t even touching the floor. He was holding the girl so tight, his fingers must have left blueprints through the fabric of her dress. She whimpered when his knuckles brushed against her ribs.

“Sir, it hurts” she whispered brokenly barely moving her feet. Michael was almost dragging her around the dance floor. He twirled her around, and she stumbled, twisting her ankle. Her hands slipped off his shoulders, as she bend over to wrap her fingers around the aching ankles. Her shoulders were shaking with uncontrollable cry.

“Stop that and stand up” he ordered annoyingly, the music was still playing. The girl sobbed in response. She sighed and took his hand.

But as they resumed dancing everything around her started spinning. The ground vanished beneath her feet, and she shut her eyes tightly clinging to Michael’s torso with all her might.

“You are pathetic” his low voice brought her back from her dazed state a moment later. She opened her eyes and to her surprise found herself back in Michael’s suite. She let go of her grip and stepped backward.

“Why are doing this to me?” she wiped off the tears smearing them with sweat and blood across her face. She bowed her head and slowly sank to her knees before Michael. “Please, just kill me, please, sir, I can’t take it anymore”. She repeated the same words once again.

He was watching her with a smirk ghosting across his full lips. He took a step forward to the girl and slowly put his hand on her head, petting her like a dog. Almost lovingly.

“Why would you want such a silly thing?” He cooed twisting messy strands of her hair with his fingers. She was looking down at her hands rested on her thighs. As he spoke, the green snake crawled out under the bed. The girl’s eyes widened, but when she wanted to pull away, Michael held her in place. She gulped heavily and looked up at him. His eyes were on her, examining her swollen face conceitedly.

“I remember you were complaining about your dress,” he said tasting every word on the tip of his tongue. She nodded hesitantly “Well, take it off then”

The girl froze. She couldn’t take her eyes off of the snake that made its way to the fireplace. The scaly skin of it blinked in the blue light. Suddenly Michael’s palm met the skin of her cheek giving her one harsh slap.

“Are you deaf?” He hissed and wrapped his fingers around her neck bringing her up from the kneeling position, so her face was on the same level with his. She gasped for air covering his hands with her palms in attempt to loosen his grip.

Holding her like that, Michael snaked his hand behind her back and untied her corset in one swift motion. The red fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her naked before him. She tried to say something, but her protest remained inaudible. Her bear breasts were purple indeed. She looked like she had been beaten for hours in the most brutal way: lilac bruises bloomed across her ribcage and stomach like irises. The cool of Michael’s rings against the sensitive skin made her whimper from his touch. He moved his hand from her throat down to her waist.

“Please, don’t...” she knew that her pleas wouldn’t stop him, but kept begging him for mercy anyway.

Another harsh slap. Her hands flew to her face trying to sooth the tingling sensation.

“Rule number two” he reminded her. Michael grabbed her by the hair and she winced painfully at the hard tug.

“You know what’s the most pathetic thing about human nature?” he asked, his lips were inches away from her ear, and as he spoke he slowly started numbing on her earlobe. Large palms covered her breast and squeezed tightly drawing another sob from her throat. His fingers flickered the pink nipple and pulled hard. “It’s the overall weakness” he continued whispering. The tip of his tongue licked a wet stripe from her ear to the pulsing point on her neck. “Your body is going to react to me”

She couldn’t move. Too terrified, too scared to make him even angrier. She felt him moving his knee up to her crotch and slowly pushing it against her core.

“You are one filthy bitch” every word was dripping with poison. Her lips found hers in a furious kiss, it was all teeth and tongues, him exploring her mouth. As she refused to kiss him back, Michael growled and bit on her bottom lips, painfully pulling it between his teeth until he could sense a copper taste of blood. He yanked her head, exposing her neck and moved his lips there, leaving purple bruises on the tender skin. He was biting and licking at the same time, ravishing her into a whimpering mess. His fingers found their way to her folds and spread them in order to check whether she was wet or not. Michael’s eyes darkened, as the tips of his fingers brushed against the dry heat. The girl wasn’t moving, her arms were hanging loosely on the sides of her body, her head was bowed lowly as if she had given up. But he wasn’t going to fuck a corpse. She needed to react.

“On your knees” he commanded. “Now”

The girl obliged and obediently sank down on her knees, the thick carpet painfully rubbed against her skin. She heard the sound of Michael unbuckling his belt. Adrenaline flooded her system. The heart in her chest started pumping blood so fast like it was about to explode. Every cell of her body wanted to either run fast for the safety or fight until the last breath, but in reality, she remained where she was. On her knees before Michael Langdon. She felt the touch of his fingers under her chin.

“Open your mouth,” he said, his voice low and intimidating. She looked up and a slow mewl rolled off her lips at the sight of his cock in from of her face: long and thick, with bright pink head glistening with arousal. His grey eyes turned coal black, as he wrapped his fingers around his shaft and brought it closer to her parted lips. She held her breath when he slid the tip of it along her bottom lip, smearing the drops of precum. In one quick movement of his hips, he thrust deep in her mouth without any warning, making her choke on his length. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to pull away, but he was holding her tight, forcing her to relax her throat and take all of him.

He hummed contentedly when the tip of his cock hit the back of her throat and her nose brushed against his pubic bone. Salvia was dripping down her chin to her breasts, as Michael’s cock went in and out of her mouth with wet, sloppy sound. His hands grabbed a fistful of her hair and wrapped it around his palm, tagging forcefully.

“Look at you” he purred, pulling out his throbbing shaft. “Pathetic”, he slapped her cheek with the head of his cock dragging it higher to her cheekbone, “useless”, another slap, “whore”. Her swollen lips were scarlet red from Michael’s ruthless attitude, cheeks stained with tears were now glistening with the traces of his precum. He enjoined the control he had over her, using her mouth to his pleasure while Purson could only dream about it. Michael closed his eyes doing a particularly deep thrust and then holding the girl’s head in place to prolong the pressure on her throat. She was nearly suffocating. When he finally released her from his grip, she was panting heavily.

Michael’s tongue ran across his bottom lip:

“Get on the bed. Ass up”

She wasn’t able to stand up. The carpet literally burned the skin of her knees that were now bright red and soar. Her legs were still bleeding from the heels Michael didn’t let her take off, so she started crawling on her knees towards the bed whining under the breath with every move.

Somehow, she managed to get onto the mattress, immediately soaking the sheets with her blood. She buried her face into the pillow and let out a loud scream that was muffled by the thick jacquard pillowcase. Michael’s smell from the bedding filled in her nostrils.

Meanwhile, he discarded his slacks, jacket and dress shirt and turned to the snake that was peacefully laying on the floor beneath him. He whispered something to her only two of them could understand and it made its familiar way up to his thigh, but this time instead of settling on his shoulders, it wrapped itself around his wrist like a bracelet.

The girl heard the mattress creak under his weight and shifted uncomfortably. She felt exposed being on all fourth with her ass up in the air for him. He hummed approvingly at the sight and gave her a hard slap.

“Much better” he grabbed her hands and crossed them behind her back. She lifted her head form the pillow and fearfully looked back when she felt the snake being wrapped around her bruised wrists. “Don’t worry” he answered her silent question. “It’s harmless if you don’t move. However, if you are unable to keep still, it will bite you and you will die in a very ugly way” he laughed and mockingly petted the girl’s cheek.

He moved down to her abused legs and carefully touched the straps of her pumps. It had been so long since she had put them on, that the spikes went deep under her skin and it was impossible to remove them without causing an agonizing pain to the girl. Her blood-curdling scream could be heard in the farthest corners of the castle, as Michael ripped the blackthorns out.

“Oh, c’mon, it’s not that bad” he scoffed rolling his eyes. She howled, and the snake around her wrists tightened as if it was about to attack.

Michael’s hands traveled from the small of the back up to her spine until the settled at the nape of her neck and squeezed brutally. She felt the tip of his cock brushing between her ass cheeks and tried to pull away, but it was impossible. He ran the head along her folds and simultaneously pressed the tips of his fingers against her clit.

“See?” he laughed when he felt silk wetness spread out between the pink, puffy lips. “I told you that your body would surrender.” She cried out in disbelief. She didn’t want that, she felt used and humiliated, broken mentally and physically, yet her body betrayed her and responded to the slightest attention to the most intimate part of it. She shook her head, and if it hadn’t been Michael’s hands on her neck she would have hidden it shamefully under the pillow. Good Lord.

He fucked the living shit out of her. She gripped onto the sheets so tightly, her knuckles turned white. Michael’s cock was reaching the deepest spots inside her, and at some moment she thought that he could have ripped her apart. He growled when she accidentally squeezed him and sped up the pace.

With every thrust he expressed his anger and devastation: he was mad at her for being a human being; for belonging to the race of those who had used and betrayed him when he was on Earth; he hated her for appearing at the wrong place and at the wrong hour; he wished he hadn’t had to do all of this in order to win his father’s condescension and prove everyone in hell that he was worth reigning them. His black eyes sparkled with fury when he remembered the sensation of the girl’s soul when it first touched him: it reminded him of the light and love he felt towards Ms. Mead, his only ally on Earth, the woman whom he considered his mother. The same woman who didn’t care about him, but his Antichrist mission. After he got “trapped” in his castle he had a lot of time to reflect on his experience in the human world, analyze his mistakes, and learn the true nature of everyone he met along. It could have been anyone in his place. It didn’t make any difference to her.

Because all people, if given the right pressures or stimulus, are evil mortherfuckers.

He hated the girl under him with all his guts, and he wanted her to suffer not only for her grandmother’s debt but for the sufferings he had to go through because he found all his affronters in her.

He continued thrusting into her mercilessly. The obscene sound of his balls slapping against her bare ass echoed in the room. He was close to his release, but his anger only intensified. Michael groaned and pulled out in order to push right back in making the girl scream so loud, he had to press her face into the mattress. Her pleasure was the last thing that mattered to him.

She felt his cock pulsing deep inside and moaned brokenly when the hot load spilled inside her, creaming the walls of her throbbing core in white stripes. She felt defeated and totally broken down. It seemed like there were no tears left to cry — the only thing she could do was to whimper quietly, as he pulled out and his cum leaked out of her entrance, staining her trembling thighs.

Suddenly a loud knock on the door interrupted the silence. Michael frowned, and leaving the girl in her embarrassing position, jumped off the bed to pick up his robe from the armchair and open the door.

The intruder turned out to be Furfur. Michael was about to shout at him, but the look on the demon’s face was dreadful.

“My Lord”, he murmured worryingly, “Our Highness”, he cleared his throat, “Your Father is here”

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