Tumgik
#like fucking fort knox
ghouljams · 8 months
Note
I was just stalking your fae au and was reading the moose-creature-mimic posts, and I saw you mention that witch can feel when the mimic is trying to break her wards.
Whenever I hear about Fae, my mind immediately goes to the magic system from one of my favourite book series in which people who make wards have to develop wards for specific creatures, and if a creature that they haven’t warded against tries to enter, they can break through, if not break the rest of the wards.
Let’s say for a moment that something like that happens in the Fae AU, where some kind of unfamiliar creature from a foreign civilization comes a knocking on witches doorstep, and is able to break through her wards.
What do you think would happen? If Witch is connected to them, would Witch ‘break’ too? How would Price react to the pure panic and pain shooting through the tethers as an unfamiliar creature breaks through his darling’s wards?
I feel like she would be absolutely broken afterwards (if she survives that is-) Her wards are her safe space, she had never had that happen, she didn’t know what happened.
Would price still trust her to be safe in her own home?
Would SHE still trust her to be safe in her own home??
Just some thoughts 🫣
Oooooooooh. Ok yeah I can do some horror with this. Love the concept. So the Canon answer is that warding in this magic system can be as broad or as narrow as the caster wants. Wards can be weak and they can be broken, but it isn't going to harm the caster, maybe it'll give then a bad feeling but not any actual harm. Not a very good ward if it harms the wrong target IMHO.
For the Witch's home these are wards that are basically generations of people enforcing and reinforcing an all purpose boundary. It's an iron wall that nothing(save humans) is getting through without a permit, and it's tied to Witch both through her magic and her blood. She can feel when things mess with it, but it's like getting asmr, it isn't actually affecting her. She's mentioned before that her wards are threats, so anything that isn't stopped by a simple denial of entry is going to have those threats enacted upon it.
But let's say something broke her wards, let's throw some rocks through the windows and bust shit up. I am going on record to say, this isnt canon:
You feel something crack in the air before you feel it break. The splintering spiderweb of intangible bonds being pushed too far hits you between the ribs and you have to clutch the kitchen counter to stay standing. Something is deeply, desperately, wrong. You don't know how or why(or what) but something is working very hard to get in to your space.
It shouldn't be possible in the first place, you have known this house, these wards, your whole life and you've never felt it give way. You've felt it change, felt it ripple, felt it pop and fizz when it doesn't like what you've let in, but never this. Never the creaking pressure of it bowing inwards and splitting under its own tension. Your fingers wrap tight around your athame as you go to check your back garden, peaking through the curtains. There's nothing.
But you can feel it, you can feel it splintering like a pain in your chest. Tight and radiating out from your sternum. It tingles down your arm, makes your grip feel looser than you know it is. You grab your back door's handle, take a few breathes to give yourself strength, and open it to shoo away whatever is pressing your wards. And very suddenly the splinters give way, like a hole punched through a window.
It feels like all the air has been forced out of your lungs. A cool breeze blows through your door, wrong so very, very, wrong. The smell of moss invades your nose, burdened with the scent of decay. Slime mold oozing against your desperate breaths. You tug your shirt to cover your nose and mouth as the battering ram that had been beating your barrier steps through.
The horns of it scrape your ceiling, actually that bothers you more than it should, you're the one that has to fix it later. Velvet hangs from its antlers, freshly scraped and red, gory and divine. It stands on two clover hooves, and looks at you with malice. If you can even discern an expression from the thing. It's face is completely smooth save for its eyes, or it was smooth. A crack forms along the bottom of its smooth surface, splintering and chipping as it rips its mouth open and screams at you.
The sound is overpowering, dizzying, you feel your ears pop and then the noise is gone, replaced by a persistent dull ringing. You truly wonder when your life got so interesting. You hate interesting. You blame Price.
You cough, gag. You have to drop your makeshift mask to retch against the stench of rotten decay on this thing. It smells like death, weeks old bodies left to fester where no one will find them. You gag again, fingers curling around your throat as you try to keep you athame raised.
Your wards are silent, you home is silent, and you realize that you've never actually experienced true silence. Something is always buzzing or humming with magic, you always have music playing or bottles clinking, you're always surrounded by sound. Now it's all stopped. Even the ringing in your ears has settled into a cottony muffle. You can't feel any of your magic. Your numbed to it.
You drop your hand from your throat to your chest. You can't even feel the tethers there. Your fingers move over the fabric of your shirt without catching, there's not tightness to pull, not warmth to catch. You feel cavernous, empty past empty. What the fuck is that thing.
Whatever it is it seems to have finished its evaluation of you. Finished working whatever spell it was weaving. It takes a step towards you. You don't wait for it to take another before running. Scrambling away from the broken seal of the door towards whatever is heavy and throw-able.
You do your best not to let blind panic take over, to not just run wherever feels safe. You've always thought it was silly when people in horror movies don't do the smart thing, but you've never been in a horror movie before. You bolt towards your bedroom. It's the best guarded room in the house. Even if you can't feel your magic it should still be there. Right?
You feel the swip of the things claws through the air as it tries to grab you. You run straight past your front door without a second thought, sure you don't want whatever that is to be unleashed on the general public. It's claws dig deep gouges into the plaster of your wall, and you pray it doesn't do the same to your bedroom door. You know it will, but it can't hurt to pray. You're not in the mood to be picky with magic right now.
You get your bedroom door closed just in time to hear it splinter as the creature throws itself against it. You don't bother with chalk, digging your athame into the door and scratching sigils and circles as quickly as you can. When you tap them they sit absolutely dead. You smack your hand against your messy circle, willing the magic to respond. You smack it again as the creature throws itself against your door. The circle stays as it was, motionless, silent, still as a drawing.
You are suddenly much more comfortable allowing panic to overtake you. If you're powerless there's really no reason to keep your emotions in check. Your breath heaves, short and quick as you back away from your door and look towards your window. No magic swirls, no books rip themselves from your shelves, your panic heightens and nothing happens. How mundane.
One of the creatures claws punches a hole through the center of your circle, then another, and another. You back towards your window as it grips the wood of the door and attempts to pull it from its hinges. Your fingers push at your window, try to find the seams of it, try to get it open. It doesn't budge, it feels like it's been painted on. You bang your fist against the glass without so much as a crack. The wood behind you splinters. The crunch of it deafening over the silence.
"Price, Price, fuck I am not fucking around Price please," You beg pressing yourself back against the window as the creature drops pieces of the door onto your floor. Even if your magic doesn't work his still must. You've never hear of a fae not responding to their name. Granted you don't know the full thing, you don't know if that's really his name and not just a nickname. It might hold no power without the tethers between you. That doesn't stop you from saying it like a prayer, hoping if you speak him into existence enough times he might come and save you.
Your shoulders are grabbed by an invisible force as you are physically shaken. Your ribs shake, muscles tensed too tight to even take a breath.
There is a wet ache spreading over your stomach, you begin to tilt your head down to see what's wrong and Price catches you. His hand holds the back of your head, pulls it back up and shoves it against his shoulder. "Don't look," he tells you just as quickly as he'd stopped you. You nod against his shoulder.
He pulls something from you, rips the proverbial bandaid off, and you bite him at the pain. It feels like your heart has been knocked out of place, like your ribs have been played as a xylophone. Your stomach twists on itself. Suddenly you are back in your kitchen staring at the cabinets, the space where the creatures antlers had scraped the ceiling. The scratches are still there.
Then the shaking starts. Every muscle in your body starting to unspool in a violent shudder that must quake the very earth you stand on. It's loud. The house is so loud. The wards are practically screaming at you, you threshold wails and sobs where it has been brutalized. Your back door is still swung open to red and orange leaves, a lovely autumn day that leaks the smell of wet earth into your home. Price turns to follow your shaking gaze and kicks the door shut behind him.
"What-" You can't get anything more out around the aftershocks of panic. You're sure your house must look like a war zone.
"Probably some American invention," Price mumbles, "You weren't under long, deep breaths."
You suck in a breath, press your know into his shirt to smell the cool tobacco. It helps. Price keeps a firm grip on the back of your head, keeps you looking where he wants you to while his other hand does something. He touches you in a way you can't explain. It's almost metaphysical the way he zips you up, just on the right side of freezing. You can almost feel his fingers moving muscle and viscera out of the way as he does whatever he's doing. Fixing whatever just happened.
"Fucking hell your wards shredded that thing, surprised it even had the strength to touch you," There's something at the edge of Price's voice, fear your think. You're not sure what he's scared of, it isn't a comforting sound.
"How're you-" You try to focus on the important questions, like why Price hasn't been shredded.
"You lit up like a damn Christmas tree, thought I was gonna have my own attack with the panic you shot my way," He draws his hand away from your stomach, apparently finished with his fussing, "wards were too busy to notice me slip in."
Makes sense, even now they're too busy with repairs to pay attention to your regular.
"It broke my door," It's funny what you latch onto once shock starts to set in. "What did it want?"
"Same thing we all want," Price tells you, and you hate hearing him say it(we), because he doesn't mean it kindly, "you."
206 notes · View notes
the-deadlock-south · 2 years
Note
Has your ass ever been on fire HOMIE 😤 You'd be say ow Ow OWW as well 😤 #cowgirl gang gang
SHE AIN'T EVEN ON FIRE SHE COULD GET GRAZED WITH A BULLET AN' SHE KEELIN' OVER AN' CLUTCHIN' HER ARM CALLIN' FOR BOB
4 notes · View notes
simp-lyzity · 2 years
Text
today i accidentally called someone non-binary code, frowned, and then said non-binaryism, squinted, and then said genderingism v.enby because i forgot how to say non-binary by itself
3 notes · View notes
westernsunshine · 1 year
Text
Why is it every time I go through someone’s FB page trying to gather intel & look at images I feel like Joe Goldberg
#like i’m not trying to do anything nefarious here. i just want to look at photos of cs in a suit#i was on his profile because a mutual friend shared something he posted and i looked at the reactions on one of his posts and his sister was#one of the people who reacted to it. so i was like ‘oh i wonder how she’s doing’ and it turns out she got married which is cool!#but the One photo she posted was like a big panorama of everybody (her and her husband and her family and her husband’s family)#and cs is standing behind ✨the only other tall person there✨ so you can see like. his unmistakable swoopy hair but basically nothing else#so of course i was like why.. why do you have to do him this way. the most beautiful man yorkshire has ever produced#SO i went back to his profile but he had posted no photos of the wedding so i ended up on like a scavenger hunt#his other sisters: no photos. his mom: no photos. his cousin: no photos#his brother though??? JACKPOT. well just about#tell me why this man posted THIRTY FOUR pictures of the wedding and cs is only in two of them#and in both of them he’s pushed off to the side and practically being cut out of the frame#my guy is literally mike wazowski. like what the hell is this#when i tell you cs’s brother took more photos of the fucking venue (which was an honest to god barn. like how many times do i need to see#a barn) than he did of cs#and then i amble over to his instagram and it’s private because of course it is#like sure; why not. this man’s fb profile is wide the fuck open but his insta is fort knox for some reason#cs is the exact opposite. it’s all so odd#i mean i guess i got what i wanted but i was hoping for more than three images of my guy#and why is he off to the side like he’s been forgotten about?? i mean he is the middle child i guess. 😶#anyway. if you wondered what i do on tuesday nights apparently the answer is brainrot#cs is one of those people who’s just going to live rent free in my brain and i’ve made my peace with that i suppose#personal#rant
0 notes
miniwheat77 · 2 months
Text
Watch it burn. (Ghost x Reader.)
!this is pure smut, you've been warned. absolutely no minors. age gap, sex pollen, unprotected p in v sex, violence!
Tumblr media
Ghost was hard headed and everyone knew that.
He didn't always communicate too well and sometimes he kept things to himself until it was unhealthy but that's who he was. He was a damaged person. He had walls up like fort knox. That was just Ghost. Not many knew about his past, but when you came along. Things started changing in weird ways that everyone on base never really seen coming.
Ghost seemed irritated by you at first. You were still pretty new to everything and needed some training but Laswell and Captain Price had both taken a liking to you and decided pretty quickly that you'd be a great addition to the team. It was an easy decision.
When you officially started on base, everyone fell in love with you immediately. Aside from Ghost obviously. You were still a little immature and Ghost didn't like that. The military wasn't meant for people like you and that caused a rift between you in the beginning. Slowly though, you started to prove yourself to him. When he was training you followed him around like a lost puppy asking him for tips and asking him to show you the best ways to stay in shape.
When he was in charge of you on missions, you always buckled down and followed everything he said to a T. You didn't act out or try to make light of any situations. You were mature when you needed to be and maybe that's where he started to grow soft for you. Ghost was always alone. He liked to work alone.
But once he'd gotten used to you being by his side all of the time, he almost hated it.
You followed him all over base. You ate each meal with him, even had a watch shift with him. You stuck by his side so often people started referring to you as his shadow.
At first, he didn't like it at all. Had even blown up on you for following him around so much which in turn got a taste of a side of you he had never seen.
"Why can't you just leave me alone? You're so bloody annoying. I'm not your fucking dad. Go away." He growled. You stopped in your tracks. Eyes narrowing.
"Is that an order, Lieutenant?" You had asked, which in turn made him roll his eyes at you.
"You're being ridiculous."
"No. I don't think so. Because unless you're giving me orders, you don't talk to me like that."
The hair on his body rose and he swore he'd never been so angry. But even as he stepped closer to you, you stood your ground. "Excuse me?" He asks. "You heard me. I'm not a kid, and you sure as shit aren't going to talk to me like that. I'm keeping you company and maybe I'm not doing that for you. Maybe I'm doing it for me." You step closer to him, his nose nearly touching yours. "And I know you're not my dad. But unless you're trying to meet him, lower your voice when you talk to me."
Your voice was quiet, but steady. Letting him know that you were not playing around.
He found out through Price the next day that your dad had passed away at some point in your childhood.
He'd never run to apologize to someone faster in his life.
From that point on, he'd gone easier on you.
---
It was a mistake.
A simple mistake that he knew he shouldn't have made as a Lieutenant.
You were the first to be infected.
Captain Price had sent the both of you on a mission. Meant to be a simple one of course. He sent his best he said.
You'd gotten a gash on you, but something was on the knife. Your veins started to glow. Pink almost as Ghost had described, which resulted in your eyes to roll back. He barely caught you as you passed out.
He quickly found a room and barricaded you inside. He needed answers.
After ambushing a man and dragging him inside with you, he started asking questions. "What was on the knife?"
"Was it poison?"
"How long does she have?"
But only seemed to get laughs from the man who he had tied up.
"It's not poison." He grits his teeth. Ghost is sure the knife in his leg is what's making him talk at this point.
"It's a drug."
Ghost grits his teeth. "What is it?" He slams him back into the wall. "So help me god if you don't start talking." He growls. Grasping the knife that's still in his leg, going to pull it out. "WAIT!" He yells, stopping Ghost. "It's..." He pauses. Looking down. "It's a reproductive drug."
Ghost looks at him confused. "What?"
"It's meant to increase your sex drive. Your body goes into overdrive." He hisses. "Reproductive organs work twice as hard and the hormones in the drug help induce pregnancy. It's.. still in the works." Ghost looks back at you. Still unconscious.
"What do you mean it's still in the works?" He asks.
"It's deadly in higher doses. It started out as a drug but it made it into the wrong hands and now it's a weapon." He breathes. "So.. she's going to die?" Ghost asks.
"Well.. Technically yes." He sighs. "Unless." He trails off. "Unless what?"
"How long ago was she infected."
Ghost looks down at his watch. "37 minutes ago." He looks at the man. "So.. In about.. 10 minutes. She'll wake up. Her body will feel hot and she'll probably be more aroused than she's ever been. And if you can stimulate her enough.. Her body might come down from it."
"If you can survive that long." The man laughs.
"We're gonna be just fine."
Ghost grabs hold of the knife and draws it back, where he had stabbed into the mans femoral artery starts to spurt blood out and in seconds the man is no longer alive. Ghost knows he needs to clear out the rest of the compound and come back for you.
He sets a timer on his watch and starts possibly the most stressful mission he's ever been on.
He's moving quietly but quickly, taking everyone he crosses by surprise.
But unfortunately, he gets infected.
Knife wound to the arm, just like you. He watches his veins change and knows he doesn't have long.
He doesn't know what to do yet and Ghost hates himself. You shouldn't be here. You're too new.
When everything is clear and he's sure of it. He's rushing back to you.
He pushes the desk away from the door and gets back inside, barricading it from the inside. "Ghost? What's going on?" You ask. He feels sick to his stomach. He sighs as he turns around, nervous to face you again. "I... I'm sorry Y/N." He breathes. "What?"
"Your wound.. It's infected with a drug."
"Please tell me you aren't gonna say sex drug?" You breathe. Making him narrow your eyes. "I must've heard him in my sleep." You nod to the man who's leaning over now. Ghost kneels down next to you. "I'm sorry Y/N. I never should've let you come here with me." He sighs.
"That wasn't your decision Ghost. It's not your fault."
He shakes his head. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what to do."
"Are you infected too?" You ask.
He nods his head. You sit up. "I think you know what we have to do Ghost." You look at him. Your face is deathly still. Letting him know just how serious you are.
"No. Absolutely not Y/N." He shakes his head. Standing up. He starts to pace the room. He's scared. "You'd rather die?" You ask. "No. No of course not. I just... Y/N. I can't do that to you." He shakes his head.
Ghost knows that you trust him. He trusts you too. You even opened up to him about how you were still a virgin because you'd only been in one serious relationship.
That one person who abused you and hurt you in ways that Ghost could kill for. Ghost never looked at you like this and he hates that this is his only choice. "I can't do that to you. I'm not gonna hurt you like you've been hurt. You deserve way better than this Y/N." Ghost feels like he's got an open wound in his chest at the thought of forcing you into something like this. He hates himself for allowing Captain Price to send you along on this mission with him. He didn't want to take you down with him like this. Before he realizes it, you're standing right in front of him. His racing heart steadies in his chest as you reach for his hand.
"Ghost. If we don't..." You trail off, looking down at the ground before taking a deep breath and raising your eyes up to look at him. "If we don't do something, we're going to die. You heard what he said. You and I both saw it. Saw the paperwork, the smoke bombs. This... it'll kill us if we don't." You look up at him. "And.. I don't know about you, but I don't want to die like this." You laugh.
"I can't do this to you Y/N." He hisses, clenching his eyes closed. "Come on, lets go somewhere without. You know." You glance toward the man slumped over at the other side of the room. Grasping his hand and dragging him into another room down the hall, conveniently, one with a bed. He sighs. "Sit down." You force him back onto the edge of the made bed. Luckily this was an upkept building. You take his hands in yours, moving between his legs, feeling him stiffen up immediately. "I trust you, Ghost."
He goes to speak up, but you stop him.
"You are honestly my best friend, and I know you probably don't see it the same way I do. But I trust you. You've shown me so much. Taught me so much. You protect me and you always put me first. I trust you to do this Ghost."
He clenches his eyes closed again. "I am your friend Y/N, of course I am. But.. I'm so much older than you. I thought you looked at me like a father figure, not like this."
A hiss leaves your lips, and Ghost can Physically see your veins turning pink under your skin. It seems unreal. Like something out of a movie. He knows if anything is going to happen, it has to happen now.
"Are you okay?" He asks. "Yeah, yes." You take in a deep breath. Knees feeling weak. "It's... Intense." You breathe. He grasps your hips, sitting you down next to him. "Fuck.. Lay back okay? It's gonna be alright." He breathes. "He.. He said stimulate. He didn't say sex." He breathes. Seeing you nod your head.
He helps you remove your cargo pants. Pushing you further up the bed. He swallows hard. He wants to curse himself, feeling himself get more aroused at the sight of you. It's just he drugs, yeah.
Just the drugs.
He lowers himself into you. Wrapping his arms around your thighs. "I'm sorry Y/N." He breathes.
His tongue dipping into you has you gasping out, clutching at the sheets. His eyes feel heavy as you react to him. You taste sweet and he wants to savor it. He wants to ask for forgiveness and take even more. It's just he drugs. It's just the drugs.
Your back arches and you cry out. Tears streaming down your face. It's just not enough.
"Ghost." You sob, making him look up at you.
"It's not enough."
Any of your veins that were visible under your skin are no longer blue in color, but pink. Your skin is beat red and hot. He grits his teeth as he reaches for his waistband. Once he'd gotten himself free, pants down at his mid thigh, there's no going back now.
He moves himself over you, taking a deep breath. He presses his forehead to yours. "I'm so sorry."
Feeling him penetrate you, piercing into you. You can't help but cry out. He grits his teeth, eyes clenched shut tight. He loves this and he hates this. This isn't how he would've wanted this to happen. He rocks his hips into you, body swallowing him up so perfectly. He forces you to look at him, pushing your hair out of your face. You're sweaty and it's sticking to you. "Are you okay?" He asks. You nod your head. "Yes, yes." You whine. You're out of breath. "I didn't hurt you did I?" He asks. "No, please." You claw at him. "Don't stop." You're nearly sobbing when you say it.
"Harder." You whine. "Y/N.. I'm gonna hurt you."
"Ghost." You grasp his face, forcing his mask off. You're surprised when he lets you. "You're not going to hurt me. I don't want you to be sorry." You breathe. "I want this, I've wanted this. And it's not the goddamn drugs talking." You breathe, staring him in the eyes as you say it. It's like a pin dropping in a silent room when those words leave your lips.
"What?" He asks.
"I've felt this way for a long time. Thought about it all the time. How you treat me so well and protect me. How you always come to my defense, you care about me."
"I do, I do care about you Y/N. But I'm no good for you." He grits his teeth, eyes filling with tears as he rocks into you harder. "That's bullshit and you know it." You claw at the sheets, tilting your head back as he drives himself into you harder. "I wanted you to. Wanted you to be the one to take it- I was going to ask when this mission was over."
You're choked up.
"I love you, Simon."
He loses it, chest tight. Tears stream from his eyes and he doesn't want you to see. Burying his face into the crook of your neck. You using his name, his real name. It's raw.
"Goddamnit I love you too." He sobs, drawing his hips back and burying himself inside of you again. Biting down on your neck. You look up at the ceiling, feeling his weight on you. Everything finally starts to sink in. Tears spill over the corners of your eyes as he works you to a high you're sure you'll never come down from. You clench your eyes closed once more, allowing yourself to feel everything. His pants and sobs in your ear, knowing that he feels this way too. They're getting unsteady and you know by how sloppy his thrusts are getting that he's getting close.
Feeling him, every inch of him. Sliding inside of you, drawing you closer and closer to the brink of pure bliss.
You're gone when he mumbles into your ear.
"I love you Y/N."
You cry out, the sounds leave your lips uncontrollably. He lowers his hand, rubbing circles over your clit. Pushing you through your high. The first time you've ever cum at the hands of someone else. He groans out, drawing away. He stares down at you. His eyes are bloodshot and his eyes are still watery. "I love you Simon, I trust you." You cup his cheeks with your hands again. "Give yourself to me." His body shakes as he reaches his high. Groaning out. He rests his forehead on your chest, trying to calm himself down. Relishing in the pleasure he feels. He knows he needs to calm down now, he's too worked up still. His heart pounds in his chest, but as he relaxes into you, it settles. He stays like that for a while. Calming himself down. When he finally pulls away, sliding out of you. He lies next to you. Pulling you into his side. You rest your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around you. It's silent for a while, but he finally breaks the silence. "I'm so sorry Y/N." He breathes. Hearing you laugh lightly. "Simon..." you trail off. "Why do you keep saying that? What do you have to be sorry for?" You look up at him, eyes piercing his. "Because you deserved so much better than this." He breathes. "Yeah? Like what? An uncomfortable barracks bed?" Your lips raise in a smile and he laughs. "You're such a brat." His chest shakes as he laughs. "It's my best quality, thank you very much." You sit up, climbing over him. Straddling his hips. "I wouldn't have wanted this to go any different. Listen." You tilt your head back. "Hm?" He asks. "Nothing but silence." Your eyes flutter closed and he breathes out, resting his hands on your thighs. Thumb gliding up the inside. "Did I hurt you?" He asks. You shake your head. "No. Not even a little." You breathe, laying your head on his chest. He covers you with a blanket. Wrapping his arms around you and holding you right. "Simon?" You mumble. "Yeah darling?" He asks, pushing your hair out of your face.
"I want to be with you."
He takes a deep breath. "I'm serious. I want everything with you. I want the good days. The bad ones too. I want a life with you, and it's okay if you don't want that with me. But I think you should know." You sigh, relaxing into him. You're completely relaxed. You're always relaxed even in dangerous situations with him. He keeps you safe. "We'll talk more about it when we're out of here.. okay?" He trails off. You nod your head against him.
The fire reflects in your eyes, they're glossy. Simon stands next to you. Arms crossed over his chest. His mask is on again, but pulled down around his neck.
The building is nothing but burning flames now. Everything that happened inside is a memory now. It's gone. "It's pretty huh?" You turn to look at him. He laughs. "Yeah, it is." He smiles. "You think it'll be all gone? The drug and everything inside?" You ask. He wraps an arm around your back, pulling you into him. "I'd like to hope so. But.. I don't think this is our last time crossing paths with this." He looks back at the flames. The warmth on your skin feels nice. "Let's get to exfil, yeah?" He looks down at you. "Wait-" you stop him as he goes to walk off. "Simon?" You ask. He turns his head to you. Taking him off guard by pressing your lips to his. He's frozen for a second, but relaxes into you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. You cup his face again.
When you pull away, you grasp his balaclava. Raising it over his nose once more. "Let's get out of here." You smile. He grasps your hand, pulling you along with him. Picking up all of your gear and returning it to where it belongs.
597 notes · View notes
lagomoz · 4 months
Text
Proseka headcanons
-as rui’s childhood friend, nene has extensive fire safety knowledge
-shizuku is adopted, hence why she looks so different from shiho. she was adopted shortly before the moon rabbit event and it contributed to her clinginess
-shiho forgets this fact sometimes. she’ll casually mention something like shizuku got all mom’s good genes so unfair and ichika has to be. um. shiho
-kanade is mildly nearsighted/myopic but spends so much time at her computer she hasn’t noticed
-emu is buff. she climbs multiple stories without breaking a sweat and is canonically part of the swimming, handball and rhythmic gymnastic clubs, you can’t tell me she doesn’t have some muscle
-saki helps out as a human notepad for tsukasa, reminding of him things he would otherwise forget within 5 minutes
-the vocaloids also help. at first it was unnerving to have hatsune miku be an extension of his psyche that knows his darkest secret (stole saki’s candy when he was 6) but now his phone has a more reliable catgirl themed reminder system
-you know that classic nightmare of leaving the house without pants? tsukasa has legitimately done that as a kid. he forgor. (saki will never let him live it down)
-in the kamiyama student council/hall monitor room, an has put up at sign saying “_ days since last kamishiro incident”
-the shinonome siblings both figured out the other one was gay before they figured it out about themselves
-airi’s great at trivia from her time as a variety show star. she still can’t beat minori at idol trivia, though
-ena keeps a diary with fort knox level security. try to read it and you’ll lose a finger
-saki learned to crochet from the old ladies in the hospital
-shiho’s most treasured phenny is a somewhat lumpy crocheted phenny holding a very lumpy crocheted bass guitar
-tsukasa snores. he falls asleep in 10 seconds and sounds like a dying lawnmower
-mizuki has learned a small bit of french from their sister and uses it exclusively to teach rui and an how to swear in french
-emu still celebrates her grandfather’s birthday, even if he’s not there to celebrate with her
-ena is allergic to dogs, the middle point to airi’s cat allergy and akito’s dog phobia
-rui has various small scars from his experiments over the years, but nobody ever believes the real causes (rocket launcher, robot bite, exploding balloon animal, etc.) so he just makes up a new cause every time someone asks
-mmj! has had repeated incidents of minori and airi’s little siblings walking into frame when streaming at their houses. shiho understands the concept of a livestream but has still been caught failing at creeping past like that one new broadcast of the guy crawling along the floor
-kanade has pots & eds, this one I have a reason for look at her symptoms. chronic exhaustion, heat and cold intolerance, comorbid sleep issues and depression, dizziness when standing up, fainting after standing up, very pale skin, family history of medical issues, pain at normal physical activities, exercise intolerance, vertigo at mild exertion, she just fucking dies during the entire baseball event, I could go on. she canonically gets pain in her hands from opening a jar girl that is not just being out of shape that is physical disability. this one I will go conspiracy board on listen to me I’m right
-kohane ate bugs as a kid. an is horrified, toya is confused, akito is impressed
-ena and airi got in trouble in middle school because they’d keep starting fist fights in defense of the others honor. if they saw the other in a fight they’d jump in guns blazing no hesitation no questions ask ready to throw the fuck down
-vbs!rin and len were given a skateboard by an and then promptly had the skateboard confiscated by meiko for property destruction
-haruka is horrible with slang. she asks the stream chat what poggers means and immediately uses it completely wrong, killing all viewers on impact
-minori is torn between thinking it’s cute and wanting to die
-toya has been banned from arcades before because he made them lose too much money/they suspected he was cheating
-ena brought kanade over for girls night and nearly scared akito half to death because he went down to get a late night snack and there was some Ghastly Creature looming in his kitchen
-kohane's parents stick out like a sore thumb when going to her live shows. it mortifies her that everyone on vivid street can recognize them as the only milquetoast middle aged couple dressed in normal clothes loudly going YOU'RE DOING GREAT SWEETIE that don't know the first thing about music
-minori knows basic programming. she mostly uses it for forums, blogs, html, other web design things usually related to idols as a hobby, but she's become the groups designated anti-shizuku tech support
-mafuyu has always been able to see ghosts but after adults figured she was just playing pretend as a kid so she shrugged and figured it was normal and not worth bringing up again
-honami has one of those massive extended families and somehow keeps track of them all. at any given time cousin #57 can crawl out of the woodwork and she remembers their new job, favorite food, past three romantic relationships and list of allergic reactions
-mizuki does doll customizing as a hobby. they prefer making human sized clothes, but it's fun to make them miniature too. they've introduced shizuku to it and she loves it, but doesn't have the heart to do anything that would hurt the doll (sawing limbs off, dunking them in boiling water, shoving wires in them, etc.)
850 notes · View notes
beatrixstonehill2 · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
"Hey, Daddy, just a heads up, but mom wanted to know if you were interested in joining our little bet...." Amanda said.
"Oh, what's that, darling?"
"Welllll.... my friends convinced my to take Femruptarin, as you guys can probably tell...."
"Of course, sweetie, you just gave birth a few months ago."
"So, I told mom that my friends are placing bets on when I'll pop! Mom thought the idea was super cute so she asked to join. The winner gets all my savings from my OnlyFans, just as long as you promise if anyone films me popping that you upload it to my OF! You can keep the money it makes, naturally." Amanda giggled.
"Of course! That money could help me with building a new deck, and then some, I'd imagine."
"Ohhh yeah. You bet, Daddy! I make a whole lot flaunting this pregnant body of mine, these huge breasts I've developed from constantly being pregnant since forever ago! And playing with myself all day long......"
"The house will feel quiet without all the little chimes from your stream donations and you moaning like a proper porn star as you masturbate four hours on end for all those fans of yours. It will be kind of nice not needing to clean off all those tarps you line your floor with to catch your orgasms. Never seen a girl squirt so much in my life, over and over, you absolutely drench your room, and yourself...."
Amanda giggled. "What can I say? I'm a very talented girl, Daddy... So! Any estimation how long I'll last?"
"That womb of yours is like Fort Knox, you carried octuplets to ten months a couple years ago. I say you'll make it to nine months!"
"Daddy, are you crazy? I've got like thirty kids in my womb, I'm only two and a half months or so along....."
"I meant what I said. Your belly'll have no trouble getting twice the size of a yoga ball before you finally burst! I have faith in you, darling. If you're good at one thing.... other than coming like a geyser a dozen times in a row, it's carrying a school bus of kids in that womb of yours."
"OK, I'll mark you down for nine months on the dot! Mom only guessed seven and a half..... My oh-so-supportive brother only guessed six."
"He's out of his mind as usual! I know you're gonna last at least to eight months, you'll see. Mark my words!"
"I hope you're right." Amanda rubbed her belly. "I wouldn't want to disappoint Erica...."
"That sister of yours is already obsessed with pushing out as many kids as she can. She really looks up to you, you know?"
"And she looks amazing carrying quints! Can't believe she's already nineteen.... Time flies...."
"But you're twenty-five so you might as well blow up like a big balloon?"
"Exactly! I think this is the perfect send off for me, I love breeding and pumping out dozens of kids, but I just love putting on a show, knowing as many people as possible are getting their rocks off to me."
"That's my girl. And wow, think this is the longest I've seen you go without making that pussy cum like a fire hydrant in years. I better not keep you much longer, wouldn't want you to have an accident--I see you rubbing those chubby thighs together, baby!"
"Is it that obvious? Mmmm, well how about you join me? My fans love it when you guys join in, especially you, daddy. Who doesn't love seeing a hugely pregnant girl with giant udders like these getting fucked by her daddy? Plus, all those donations we make together might just go to you anyway...."
"You know, you've got a point, darling."
259 notes · View notes
kingkatsuki · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
— when he almost gets caught
Tumblr media
Masterlist.
Bakugou is a bit of a creep in this one, but I promise it’s just because he’s so obsessed with reader okay?
Warnings: 18+, dubconish, pervy photographs, male masturbation.
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.
Word Count: 1.5k.
Tumblr media
One of the first things Bakugou did once he started to like you was search for your social media profiles. He knew he shouldn’t have done it, that it was wrong. As your boss he should’ve granted you the privacy that you deserve in your personal life, a side of you that he really had no right to see. But this is what you do to him, he just can’t seem to help himself around you. And your internet footprint wasn’t exactly Fort Knox. 
With a few clicks Bakugou could easily access your entire social media footprint, no passwords or accounts required to satiate the itch of missing you when he’s in his large studio apartment late at night, painfully alone. After discovering your extremely public Instagram (he’d have to talk to you about internet security, any pervert could find them!) he’d spent hours scrolling through and admiring each photograph of you. Trying to ignore the ache in his chest whenever he’d see you a little too close to one of your friends, clicking into their profiles to ensure you weren’t actually dating them.
Bakugou had given himself a heart attack on more than one occassion when he thought he’d accidentally double clicked one of your photos to like it, or followed you by mistake. Something he’d foolishly done before, and something he did not want to repeat. One morning he’d been so tired after a grueling night patrol, collapsing into his bed at four in the morning he’d accidentally done the unthinkable and liked his favourite photograph of you. Feeling so lethargic, his fingers had double tapped the screen instead of pinched to enlarge it. Quickly unliking it as he tried to reason with himself that you wouldn’t see it. Not wanting to seem like the shameless creep he was acting like, stalking his employees like this.
But it did leave him wondering sometimes whether you’d mind if he followed you on your social media. You didn’t seem to mind his company, and you’d given him your personal phone number to talk to him about work matters so you couldn’t have been that adverse to it… But there was no way he’d be asking you, instead he was content to scroll through and get these little insights to your life, enjoying the aesthetic food photographs or the scenic ones he probably would have made fun of anyone else for posting— but it was different when it was you, because he loves everything about you.
Bakugou had an entire album in his cellphone dedicated to you now, screenshots of his favourite photographs from your social media so he could shamelessly admire you without the fear of an accidental follow. Pictures that he would be ashamed to admit to anyone that he’d spent many nights fucking his fist to the sight of. It didn’t matter that the pictures were sweet and innocent, it didn’t make him want you any less. The thought of what lay beneath the cosy sweaters and tight jeans had his mind reeling, the curiosity sending a rush of blood direct to his throbbing cock.
But these photographs weren’t enough, not when there are plenty of other eyes that get to admire them whenever and wherever they want. There’s something personal about having photographs of the people you love that are for your eyes only, photos that no one else gets to see.
Oh, Bakugou definitely knew it was wrong. But is it really his fault when you’re so damn beautiful?
It was early one afternoon when he took the chance to get his own candid photograph of you, the office floor deserted for lunch besides the both of you as you stood facing the copier. Bakugou was about to tell you that he was heading out on his patrol and that he probably wouldn’t be back in the office tonight. But that’s the exact moment that the printer decided to jam, a frustrated groan spilled from your lips as you hit the side of the machine roughly.
Bakugou couldn’t help but smirk at your reaction, sending your frustration a mile away as he took a step closer to come to your aid— but that’s when it happened.
You bent over to pull the small drawer out of the side of the machine, peering into the drawer as the fabric of your skirt began to stretch around your ass. Revealing more of your gorgeous thighs as he stopped dead in his tracks to revel at the sight of you.
“Stupid fucking report,” You growled as you began to tug at the papers that were stuck inside the machine, only causing your ass to shake as Bakugou had to bite back a groan.
Bakugou’s cock began to throb beneath his hero suit as he took the opportunity, ignoring the little voice at the back of his head that told him not to do it— aiming his phone camera towards you as he snapped a few photographs of your ass in quick succession.
He should’ve walked over to help you after that, but he couldn’t bring himself to approach you when his cock was painfully hard beneath his pants. Instead turning on booted heels as he made his way back towards his office, his phone clutched tight to his chest.
He was no better than Denki, no better than Mineta as he unlocked the phone to take a look at his bounty. Turning his screens brightness up as high as it would go as he zoomed in on the perfect curve of your ass. Groaning at the way the slit at the back of your pencil skirt rode up so he could see your bare thighs where your stockings ended, trying to see whether there was the print of a panty line against the material as he tried to guess what underwear lay beneath. But the fact that Bakugou couldn’t even see a line only had him speculating even more, wondering exactly what style of panties you were wearing, if you were even wearing any at all.
And god, now the thought of you completely bare inside his office, working so innocently beside him, had his head racing and his cock begging for attention. Palming himself with a soft groan as he pictured sliding the fabric of your skirt up your thighs himself to find out, calloused fingers warm against your skin as you spread those gorgeous thighs for him.
Bakugou couldn’t help it, forgetting about his patrol as he unbuckled his utility belt. Sitting himself down in his plush desk chair as he tugged his pants down just enough to free his aching cock. The head already an angry pink colour as pre oozed from the slit, his thumb smoothing over it to smear the moisture along his length as he hissed sharply through his teeth. Picturing you bent over in the same position as in the photograph across the width of his desk. Giving him the perfect position to slide his throbbing cock inside your tight, wet cunt as he wrapped his fist around his girth tightly. A feeble attempt at mimicking how you’d feel wrapped around him as he began to lazily stroke his cock, sitting back in his chair as half-lidded eyes gazed down at the photograph on his phone.
The photograph that was all for him, for his eyes only.
Gnawing on his lower lip to bite back a groan as he swiped his thumb across his leaky slit, his chest heaving as he continued to think of the most debauched positions with you. Feeling himself edging closer and closer to his release before there was a swift knock on the door.
Bakugou scrambled to fix himself, his phone now laying flat on his desk as he tugged his pants back up over his hips, sliding forward in his chair to hide his throbbing cock beneath the desk as you stepped inside the office. The sultry scent of your perfume immediately wafting into the air and making it difficult to think, his length twitched in response as you continued closer. Laying the hundred page report down onto his desk with a bright smile.
“‘m sorry it took so long, Dynamight.” You murmured sheepishly, “I had some problems with the copier.”
I know, Bakugou was already thinking of a hundred new ways to jam the copier just to have you like that again all for himself.
“S’fine.” Bakugou muttered, trying to push his depraved thoughts to the side, all too aware of his problem beneath the desk.
“Oh, are you heading out on your patrol now?” You surmised as you noticed his outfit, “I’m not keeping you, am I?”
“Nah,” He shook his head, trying to play it cool as though he wasn’t touching himself to an illicit picture of you seconds earlier, “Gonna head out now.”
“Well stay safe, and wrap up warm. I heard there might be snow tonight.”
“I’ll be fine,” Bakugou scoffed, but inside his heart was performing somersaults at the idea that you cared about him.
“I know, I just know you hate the cold.” You smiled as you turned to leave the room, and of course you had to sway that perfect fucking ass again. Bakugou tried to look anywhere else, but his eyes were completely transfixed, biting back a moan of pleasure as you finally shut the door. Leaving him completely alone in his office, late for patrol, with a raging hard on.
Tumblr media
If you hadn’t of been so quick to dismiss your Instagram notifications one drunken night after work, as you’d climbed into your bed at four in the morning. Fighting with your charger as you tried to jab it into the port at the base of your phone, you would’ve noticed one of the banners that showed up said “DynamightOfficial liked your photo.”
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
cordeliawhohung · 2 months
Text
Headache
mafia!Gaz x fem!Reader | no major warnings: minor descriptions of wounds and blood, both you and gaz have a lot of sass |
mafia!141 consider this a part 2 to Siren
maybe one day you'll learn how to keep your mouth shut
Tumblr media
Things were never quite silent in Kyle’s apartment, but they weren’t exactly loud, either. Well, apartment was a bit of a misleading term considering he had an entire penthouse in one of the most expensive buildings in the city all to himself. Still, it didn’t change the fact that he always kept quiet music playing through the speakers in the living room or turned on a white noise machine in order to sleep. Kyle had never had a quiet life as a kid, and finding himself as an adult surrounded by nothing but silence was more than enough to drive him mad. 
However, the only thing more irritating than silence was the grating sound of someone trying to buzz up into his apartment. It was as if they took the world’s most annoying sound and turned it into a doorbell, and it was so blaring he could hear it all the way from the bathroom in which he attempted to shower. He had just finished his workout and he wanted to wash the sweat and stink off of himself, but it didn’t seem like he would get the opportunity. Whoever it was trying to get in was certainly adamant, because the buzzer sounded at least four different times before he was able to reach the door. 
“Hello?” Kyle greeted as he jammed his finger against the intercom button. If this was Soap, he was going to be pissed. 
“Mr. Garrick.” 
It was your voice, he was sure of it. Even through the crackling speaker of the intercom and your heavy panting it was easy to make out that confident snark that exuded from every word you spoke. The way you soaked his name in it had him huffing in annoyance already. 
“How did you find me?” he questioned as he rubbed his face with his free hand. 
“Let me in and I’ll tell you,” you teased.
“Not happening,” he retorted. 
Your groan came through all too clearly on the intercom and Kyle had an easy time imagining the way you most likely rolled your eyes. So far, his only interaction with you had been that night a few weeks ago when he failed to get that USB off of that politician in the strip club. After all that blew over, he had a hard time getting you out of his mind. You knew about his mother, and more importantly that he was her bastard child, and that knowledge seemed to haunt his thoughts night and day. You appearing on his doorstep didn’t help to quell his worries, either. 
“Come on, Garrick,” you urged. “I just need a place to crash for the night, I’ll be out of your hair by morning. You wouldn’t leave a girl out on the streets all by herself, would you?” 
“Do you not have your own friends you could bother with this?” Kyle asked. 
“Awe, are we not friends?” you patronized. “Besides, none of them live in what I can only assume is Fort fucking Knox with this security system.” Your voice paused, and something in your tone changed when you next spoke. “I’ll be gone by morning. Promise.” 
And he wanted to say no. To turn you away and leave you to your own devices. You were plenty capable of taking care of yourself, you had proved as much all those nights ago when you stole the data from under his nose. But there was something pleading in your tone, almost tired, even. He wanted to say no, but he couldn’t. Kyle wasn’t known for having a cold heart. 
Without so much as a single word, Kyle pressed the button that would unlock the lobby door for you and wandered off into the living room to sit and wait for you. Surely it was a mistake to let you in. Riley didn’t seem to trust you nearly as far as he could throw you, and while the man didn’t trust many people, there was something different with the way he acted about you. It was like you were some feral creature, or a ticking time bomb. Perhaps you were something to be handled with care. Or just to be kept very far away from. 
A few minutes later a knock sounded at his door, announcing your arrival, and Kyle couldn’t help but groan as he pushed himself up from the couch. His sweat from his workout had caused an odd, damp feeling to coat his body, one that he wasn’t all too fond of. Still, he did his best to ignore it as he opened the door to greet you. 
It was strange seeing you without the makeup, wig, and skimpy outfit, as it was the only outfit he had seen you wear before. The woman who stood in front of him was completely unrecognizable, and you nearly looked… shattered. Your clothes were bulky and much too big for your body, and there was an obvious and odd tatter that tore the bottom of your jeans. A fair layer of sweat coated your forehead, and it looked as if you had escaped a prison rather than gone for a nice night stroll. 
“The hell happened to you?” Kyle asked as he took a step back to give you space to enter. 
“You don’t talk to women very often, do you?” you retorted, half annoyed. 
“Most women I talk to don’t look like they were just dragged through the bin.” 
The door closed shut behind you with a click and Kyle was quick to engage the lock while you strolled into his apartment. Quiet music continued to hum through the surround sound speakers, and your eyes seemed transfixed on the dim lighting and his impeccable interior decorating. A small black backpack rested on your shoulders, and you adjusted the straps as you took your time meandering throughout his living room. Despite your apparent desperate need for a place to stay, you didn’t seem all too intent on divulging why you showed up at his door of all places. 
“Seriously,” Kyle continued, “what happened?” 
As if annoyed with his question, you turned to face him fully while you gave him a careful look up and down. It had been a long while since Kyle had last felt like a specimen, as if someone tore apart every single piece of his appearance with just their look alone, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it coming from you or not. Luckily, you decided to be kinder than he had been and you kept quiet about his disheveled appearance. 
“Had a little run in with Makarov’s men. Nothing I couldn’t handle, but I just need a place to lay low for a bit. Persistent bastards,” you explained simply.
Makarov. Kyle tried not to concern himself too much with the inner workings of the mafia world. The only reason he was involved with that mess in the first place was because John Price wasn’t a bad friend to have, and his mothers job and status made it easy to bend the rules a little in which he would receive good payment in return. But Makarov was a name that even he grew to fear. A ruthless man, his schemes often seemed to be more terroristic in nature rather than selfish like most other syndicates. 
The fact that you took on his men alone and came out unscathed was a miracle. 
“Oh,” Kyle said as if the answer was obvious. “So you just brought them straight to my front door then?” 
“Don’t be rude,” you said with a glare. “I’m not stupid enough to have someone follow me. I know when I’m being tailed. Trust me, you and your penthouse Fort Knox are fine.” 
Frustrated, Kyle ran a hand over his hair before he gave you the most unamused expression he could muster which only had you rolling your eyes, an action you seemed to do quite often. It was as if his confusion and concern was below you, like you expected him to just blindly go along with whatever you said. 
“Anyway,” you continued as you turned your attention to his apartment once more, “can I borrow your shower? You know, since it looks like I’ve been dragged through the bin and all.” 
As much as Kyle wanted to say no because he had planned on showering, he didn’t want to be a bad host. And really, you looked like you needed it more anyway, especially after running into Makarov. So he showed you to his stupidly large bathroom, complete with a garden tub and tiled shower. The vanity was large enough that three people could fit comfortably side by side, and the mirror casted a beautiful glow along the marble flooring with its backlit LED lights. 
“Fancy,” you commented as Kyle handed you a fresh towel. 
“Do you need a fresh change of clothes?” he asked while he ignored the way you gawked at the room. 
Smirking, you looked at him with a raised brow as you tugged on the straps of your backpack. “Cute, but I’ve got it covered.” 
“Alright, just… don’t take all the hot water. I’ve gotta shower, too,” he said as he stepped out of the room. 
“Yeah, I can tell.” 
Once the door closed behind him, everything started to hurt, and you could no longer keep up that snarky facade. Your backpack slipped off your shoulders and landed on the floor with a dull thud, and you wasted no more time stripping your bulky sweater off. Blood soaked through the side of your shirt, causing the tattered mess to cling to your skin with its coagulated stickiness, and you were unable to hold back your grimace. The large rip in the side clearly showed the gash that plagued your waist, and while the blood flow had managed to slow, a steady trickle still continued to seep into your shirt. 
You could already hear Shepherd’s voice calling you a failure. Not only did you fail to steal the laptop he ordered you to grab, you had gotten yourself injured in the process like an amateur. There wasn’t any room for failure in his business. Least of all from his daughter. You wouldn’t be able to show your face for a while, not without punishment. 
Everything you did to clean yourself up was meticulous. You couldn’t afford to seek proper care, and you certainly didn’t want Kyle Garrick of all people figuring out what exactly you had gotten yourself into. So your bloodied shirt was shoved into your bag as you pulled out your first aid kit. Cleaning the wound was near agonizing, and having to twist your body to the side just to reach it didn’t really help, but you wouldn’t be able to superglue it with scabs crusting over your skin. Any materials that you used to patch yourself up were also thrown back into your bag for disposal at a later time. 
Leave no trace. 
Never let them see you bleed. 
That night you slept out on Kyle’s couch, much to his protesting. Despite the fact that you were probably the least pleasant person he had to deal with, second only to his mother, he still insisted on being kind and trying to take care of you and offered you his room instead. While the notion was noble, it honestly made you a little sick, so you burrowed into the couch with a borrowed pillow and blanket and slept the best you had for a long while. 
When morning came, a hand on your shoulder shook you awake and your arm reached out with a jolt. As your body and mind began to wake up, you quickly realized it was Kyle who attempted to wake you, and your hand gripped the collar of his shirt like you were ready to fight. He looked down at you with a raised brow as he slowly removed his hand from your shoulder. 
“Gonna kill the man who made you breakfast?” he asked in an attempt to tease you. 
Sighing, you relinquished your grip on his shirt and rubbed at your face. “Depends on if it’s a good breakfast or not.” 
Once you had the chance to wake up a little more, you followed Kyle into the kitchen where you were painfully reminded of everything that had happened to you the previous night. Your wound had the time to grow sore, and even the simple act of standing or sitting was near agonizing, yet you kept quiet as you sat down on the opposite side of the island from him. Everything about his apartment was impressive, from the full unit kitchen with a gas stove, to the floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the city. Even you had to admit you were a little jealous. 
Kyle had cooked up a few light and fluffy pancakes, complete with fresh cut fruit and other sides for you to add to your heart's content. Really, it was quite good, and you were able to momentarily forget about your unfortunate predicament. Though, the fact that you were in Kyle Garrick’s apartment was still something on your mind, and his too apparently, as he hadn’t let your omission from last night go fully unpunished. 
“So, you never did explain how you found me.” 
There it was. You knew this conversation was going to happen sooner or later. Your vast knowledge often unsettled and even intimidated people, and it seemed like Kyle was no exception. Of course you could have done the smart thing and stayed quiet. Opening that can of worms would only get him to ask more questions, ones he wouldn’t like the answers to, and yet you owed him at least a bit of an explanation. 
“Your mother’s financial assets go to different places every month, but there are a few that are always split the same way. First goes to the mortgage on her rather extravagant mansion in some bullshit gated community. Next is a direct route to a bank account, which I can only assume is yours. Ten thousand a month is a rather generous allowance, honestly. Especially since none of it has to go towards rent or bills, because the other place her monthly payments goes towards is the rent on this penthouse.” You paused to shove a rather large bite of food into your mouth before you looked up at him with a smile. “And before you ask, I found this out due to a data breach in her bank. Stuff happens all the time, really. Can’t trust anything electronic these days.” 
Kyle wasn’t sure if he should laugh or yell at you. Not only had you gotten every single detail right, but you were much too smug about it. While your banter always seemed lighthearted and friendly, there was something more insidious about it; or maybe he just felt threatened by you. Difficult to tell, but he knew being wary of Shepherd’s daughter wasn’t a bad idea. 
“Alright, that still doesn’t explain how you knew who my mother is,” he said, the irritation already beginning to show in his voice. “You mentioned it the first time we met like you were holding it over my head. Care to explain that?” 
Humming, you swallowed the food in your mouth before you leaned against the counter. “Not sure if you want me to explain that one.” 
“Cut the bullshit,” Kyle snapped. “Does it make you feel strong? Holding personal information above people’s heads like this?”
“No,” you corrected with a slight bite in your tone, “it makes me feel safe.” 
With a short pause, you set your fork down on your plate before you crossed your arms in your seat and stared up at Kyle. Without a chair for him to sit in on the other side of the island, he stood much taller than you, almost intimidatingly so, yet you didn’t falter. 
“I’m very confident in my ability to kick someone’s ass, but the real weapon lies in knowing shit. It gives you the upper hand, keeps you from getting hurt,” you explained. 
“Could’ve fooled me,” he retorted. “You flaunt it around like some all knowing being and then laugh in my face when I try to ask questions.” 
“Oh, is it knowledge that you want?” you challenged. “Because I could tell you anything you wanna know. Like how your friend Soap would have certainly gotten himself killed if he didn’t join up with Price because the people he worked for previously never intended to let him get any information and live because they don’t like loose ends. I also happen to know that the girl Riley keeps hanging around is a hot fucking mess, and he’s gonna find himself in a world of hurt if he keeps trying to pursue her. It’s always the quiet ones who have the most baggage, after all. Or that Mrs. Price’s dad wasn’t killed in a fucking accident like the papers would have you believe.” 
Eventually the adrenaline in your body built up too much for you to stay sitting. There was just something so infuriating about Kyle Garrick. Maybe it was the way he looked at you while you spoke, jaw tense and eyes refusing to tear from you. Maybe it was just that despite how terrible of a person you were being, he still showed you more kindness than you deserved. 
“Your dad is sick. Very sick, and has been for a long while,” you continued. 
“Don’t you fucking talk about him,” Kyle snapped as he took a step closer to you, and yet you ignored him. 
“Despite his illness, he works as a janitor five days a week for one of the elementary schools here in the city, but can only afford to go part time, so he doesn’t have a lot of disposable income. You love him. With your rent paid for, and more money than you know what to do with, you give a lot of your income to him instead so he doesn’t lose his home. You visit with him every Sunday for dinner, probably to also watch football. He’s the only reason you even work for Price. You’ll take any extra income you can get if it means expediting his treatment and keeping him comfortable and alive because he’s the only person in your life who ever actually gave a damn about you.” 
The silence that followed was the most uncomfortable one that you ever had to endure. You had read Kyle like a book, and all he could do was stare at you with some twisted look of understanding and betrayal. Finally, his eyes tore away from your face for the first time in what felt like ages, but you didn’t like where he looked next. 
“Is that blood?” he asked as if the conversation the two of you had was completely forgotten. 
And it was. That deep red color seeped out of your poorly patched wound and soaked into the fresh cotton of your shirt. Superglue was able to hold it together throughout the night, and yet the moment your heart rate went up from that petty display of power, you paid dearly for it. You weren’t sure what hurt more. The unhealed gash on your side, or the fact that Kyle still showed you such softness despite everything you had said to him. 
“I should go,” you excused yourself as you turned to march off towards the living room. “Shepherd will start to worry if I’m gone too long, and it should be safe for me to travel now that it’s light out.” 
Without hesitation, Kyle followed close behind you as you made a beeline for your backpack. It didn’t take you long to fish your bulky sweater out, and you tried not to think about all the bloody items that you had shoved in with it the previous night. Really, even if you showed your face around him that morning, you still weren’t safe. You failed, and yet facing Shepherd seemed more favorable to you than spending another moment with Kyle. 
“Hey, wait a minute,” he tried to reason, “if you’re hurt I know someone who can help. Soap’s girl patches up people all the time.”
“She’s an ER nurse who works day shift,” you said as you shoved the sweater over your body with a restrained grunt. “She’s got people in real need to worry about.” 
It all happened too fast. You had spent a night under his roof and Kyle didn’t even realize the pain you were in, and that felt wrong. Yet, you were leaving. And some terrible part of him didn’t want you to, so when you turned to march towards the door with your bag slung over your shoulder, he grabbed your wrist in some last attempt to get you to stay. Instead, he got nothing out of you but a pained squeak, and the moment you turned to face him with wide eyes, he let go of your wrist with the word sorry written all over his face. 
He was pretty. He really was. It was annoying. 
“I lied,” you suddenly admitted. “There was no way I could have known that you give a lot of your money to your dad. I don’t have access to your banking records, and never really had the need to. I only mentioned it because it fit you. It just seemed like something you would do.” You paused to swallow as you reached a hand up to your side. You could already feel the way the blood caused your shirt to stick to your skin, yet you forced yourself to endure. “You’re a kind person, Garrick. It’s a shame you ever got caught up in this kind of life.” 
There was nothing either of you could say as you turned your back to him. Nothing would change the fact that you were the bleeding enigma walking out of his penthouse, and all Kyle could do was stand there and watch as the door closed behind you. Maybe some other time he would be able to coax your history out of you. For the time being, you were still just Shepherd’s daughter, the woman whose name he didn’t even know, and yet the woman who turned to him when you needed it most. Maybe one day you would let someone care for your wounds. 
That day just wasn’t it. 
226 notes · View notes
luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 months
Text
The Princess & The Playboy (Part 5)
Tumblr media
Summary: While meeting Dean's parents went smoothly, the reader's may be a different story. Meanwhile, Dean confides in Eric he knows a secret of his that sheds light on Eric's past actions and the boys set their plan in action...
Masterlist
Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader
Word Count: 6,500ish
Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping
A/N: 👀
_________
Dean POV
I woke with a jerk, eyes flashing open as a small surge of adrenaline coursed through my veins. I sighed, closing my eyes as glimpses of a nightmare ran through my mind. I was honestly surprised at how long I’d gone without one.
I wondered if Y/N ever had that recurring dream about not being able to get to Max in time like I did with Sam. I turned in bed, scooting closer, searching for her warm body to curl up against. When my arm reached out to find her though, all I discovered were cold sheets. My eyes popped open again, the clock on her nightstand showing it was almost six in the morning.
I was due to get up in half an hour but Y/N could sleep in. Given how she’d told me just last week she was a night owl, my thoughts wandered to not so great places.
Either she was missing or she was so stressed about her parents visit she was losing sleep over it. The fact she lived in fucking Fort Knox led me to believe it was the later.
I stretched in bed before wandering over to the closet, smiling at the previously empty side. I stayed over most every night, even if the most intimate thing we did was a cuddle. We hadn’t officially said I had a drawer or anything like that but I had a space in the closet for some personal items. Mostly it was fresh underwear and socks but Y/N had hung up a few things that hadn’t belonged to me. Just things she thought it’d be “nice to have” around.
Including a dope ass robe that looked way too freaking comfy on the chilly morning. I threw it on and wrapped my arms around myself, humming as the fleece warmed my cool skin. I wasn’t exactly a robe guy and suspected this thing cost more than some people’s rent, but it did feel damn good.
I trudged through the dark house, ears perking up as I made my way towards her home gym. Piano notes filled the air and I saw light spilling through a cracked door, a soft melody breaking through the quiet.
“Endless,” breathed out Y/N, smashing her fingers against the keys, her eyes closed, face contorting like she didn’t like that sound. “Endless,” she sang softly again, moving her fingers to a lower note, her face less critical. 
I didn’t want to disturb her and tried to close the door. Unfortunately, it was enough to prick her spidey senses because next thing I knew, a hardcover notebook was smacking me in the forehead.
“Oh my god!” she gasped, covering her hands with her face as she shot up. I rubbed my temple and picked up her papers, Y/N moving my hand away before I even straightened up. “You’re bleeding.”
“I’m fine, sweetheart.” She guided me to the couch in what looked like a studio, taking off quickly and returning in less then thirty seconds with a small first aid kit. “I’m fine, I swear.”
She ignored me, dabbing a cotton ball with alcohol before lighting pressing it against the cut. I winced, Y/N frowning as she found a butterfly bandage and stuck it on. 
“I am fine,” I said again, taking hold of her cheeks, smiling sleepily before pecking a light kiss on her lips. “I promise.”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. I shook my head, pulling her to sit in my lap.
“I’m not. You’re kind of a badass. Plus with an arm like that I’m thinking we get you in as backup QB. If you ever got sick of singing, I got a job lined up for ya.” She didn’t smile like she usually did when I teased her though. “What’s wrong? It’s one little bump is all. No biggie.”
“I woke you up early and you need your sleep and now I’m sure you have a headache on top of that and I have my stupid parents coming in this afternoon and you’re not going to be to stay over like normal because god knows what they’ll say and I’m so behind on the next album already and-”
I put my hand over her mouth to stop her, Y/N blinking as tears welled up in her eyes. Fuck, she ripped my heart out when I saw her like that. 
“Listen, listen,” I shushed her, Y/N wearily watching me. “I am fine and I’ll tell you if I’m not. You are exhausted, honey. You have not caught up from when you were on tour for half the freaking year. I want you to go back to bed and I’ll talk to Eric, make sure your morning gets cleared. All I want you to do is get some sleep. Someone from your team can grab your parents and entertain them until tonight where I will come over to have dinner with you and then I will stay over like always. You’re not going to worry about any other shit. Promise?”
She closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around me in a deep hug. “My parents stress me out whenever they visit. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, don’t say sorry,” I said, pressing my lips to her ear. “I just want you to get some sleep. Now do you promise?”
“Promise,” she mumbled, burying her face in my neck. She sighed softly and it was only a few beats later I realized her breathing had evened out, fast asleep. My girl really was at the end of her rope. As gently as I could, I carried her out and upstairs, tucking her into bed before changing. Downstairs, I filled up my thermos with coffee and made Y/N some pancakes she could reheat for lunch later.
“Good morning,” said Eric quietly. I glanced left, his body drenched in sweat, most likely from the gym. “You’re up early a lot.”
“My day starts at eight on the dot, sometimes sooner. I get fined if I’m late,” I said, taking a mug from beside the sink and filling it up for him.
“Thank you,” he said, taking a long sip. “You guys get Tuesdays off, right?”
“Yeah but I normally work it and review game film. Gotta set a good example for the team.” I wrapped up the pancakes on a plate, putting a sticky note on top. “I turned off Y/N’s phone. She needs to catch up on sleep. I know she’s busy but please let her sleep late today and cancel any morning meetings she has. And make sure her parents stay away until this evening. She’s worried about them and I told her I’d be here when they get here.”
“Can do.” I nodded, washing up the pan and taking another sip of coffee. “Dean.”
I turned around from the sink, Eric leaned back against the counter. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry again for how I treated you before. Y/N’s always deserved someone good. I’m glad she finally has that with you.” 
“Thank you,” I said, holding out my hand to him. Eric shook it, a quiet beat passing. “Do you think you and Sloane have a chance of working things out?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t even want her forgiveness. I just want her to know my reasoning and that I regret it. I just need her to know that I never thought she was weak or incapable and especially that I didn’t string her along. I always loved her. Even if I fucked it up for good.”
“I’m no relationship expert but why didn’t you go to her in the hospital?” I asked, Eric taking a seat at the island with a sigh. “Like, is there any possible reason you could tell Sloane about why you left?”
“You blamed yourself for your brother’s abduction when there logically was no reason to. For years you did.” He stared me down and nodded. “Now imagine that feeling of guilt but you know you fucked up. The intel was bad and you were distracted and imagine Sam or Y/N were taken, beat to hell, every inch of skin battered. And it was 100% your fault. Your job was to protect them and you screwed up. Would you be able to walk in that room and sit there, your mistake staring right back at you?”
“Were you abused as a kid?” Eric’s eyebrows shot up fast before his jaw clenched. 
“What the fuck kind of question is that?” he snapped. 
“Survivors often blame things out of their control on themselves because they’ve been conditioned to,” I said, raising my chin. Eric closed his eyes, rubbing his temples.
“You did a background check on me,” he mumbled.
“I didn’t use Sloane for it if it makes you feel better. No one knows except me and I plan on it staying that way. I wanted to know who the fuck you were was all.” Eric nodded, inhaling sharply. “Does Sloane know about your dad?”
“No and it doesn’t matter. I screwed up-”
“You probably ran away because you’re conditioned-”
“I’m a fucking solider, Winchester. My sack of shit father has been dead and gone for a very long time. I did not run away from Sloane because of some childhood trauma crap. I was a shitty person. Case closed.”
I stepped closer, looking down at him with a hard face. “Y/N and I were barely adults when we got our trauma and it’s still inside us. Don’t you fucking dare try and say it had no effect because it did. It made you a protector. It also made you expect Sloane to do or say awful things to you when you did go in that room. You’re smart enough to know I’m right.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Eric grit out, shooting daggers at me. “I wasn’t there when she needed me and that’s that.”
“Do you know why Y/N let me in? Because I talked to her, because I was vulnerable. Big bad bodyguard and you’re too scared to tell the girl you love all your secrets.”
“So what? I tell her and nothing changes so what’s the fucking point? I still hurt her.” I grasped his shoulder, shaking my head at him.
“Buddy, we both love two badass strong women. You’re right, Sloane could tell you to fuck off. Or she can finally understand and maybe forgive you. A guy like you isn’t the bad guy, no matter how much you tell yourself.”
Eric lowered his head, his shoulders rising when he breathed deeply. “I can’t. I’ve never told anyone. Shit, my own sister doesn’t even know.”
“Well you can practice with me if you ever decide you do want to,” I said, patting his back. “Take care of Y/N for me today.”
He hummed, Sloane waiting out front by my SUV when I left.
“What are you doing here so early?” I asked. Sloane rubbed her eye, opening the car door.
“I was working on understanding Y/N’s security protocols,” she said, still rubbing her eye.
“At six in the morning?”
“I wake up early. Is that a crime?” she snapped, her eyes red rimmed. I glanced back at the house, Sloane glaring at me. “What?”
“You overheard me talking to him, didn’t you.” She kept my gaze, only a slight tick of her jaw giving her away. “You’re in jeans and a t-shirt today.”
“So what?”
“So maybe your outfit choice doesn’t have to be the only change you make. You could talk to him-“
Sloane held up a hand. “I am not talking about this with anyone, including you. Understand?”
“And the world thinks I’m the emotionally immature one around here,” I mumbled, sliding into the passenger seat. Sloane slammed the door shut and I winced. I could only hope the rest of the day turned around.
Late Afternoon
“Winchester.” I blinked my eyes, noticing the conference room was mostly cleared out. Benny waited by the door as I grabbed my playbook and quickly followed after. “You alright, man?”
“Yeah. Just need to get some sleep,” I yawned, my phone buzzing in my pocket. My agent was having a field day today, fending off offers left and right from companies wanting to capitalize on my recent popularity. Thankfully Brad was a good guy and he knew what I was and wasn’t willing to endorse. 
And any mention of Y/N meant they got an automatic rejection. No questions asked. I wasn’t about to profit off the fact people knew she was my girlfriend.
My phone buzzed again and I reached into my pocket, surprised to see Eric calling. “Uh, hey. What’s up?”
“What time do you get done with work?” Eric asked. I shrugged, waving for Benny to go on ahead of me back to the locker room.
“About an hour. Why?” Eric sighed. “What’s wrong?”
“Listen.” The phone got quiet for a moment, faint footsteps in the background. But then I heard it. Heard it loud and clear.
“Liars and cheats and oh you dirty, dirty sneaks! Like I’m the stain on your perfect life making it bleak!” Y/N sang loudly through the phone, her voice raw while her fingers slammed piano keys.
The noise dissipated, Eric clearing his throat. “Good news, she wrote a song for her record this morning. Bad news, her parents showed up early on their own and they had a massive blowout. I guess they saw the cake you guys made for Max and freaked.”
“...You wouldn’t call me with this unless you were concerned, would you.” 
“Girl’s always used music to process her feelings. But she’s sort of bawling in there and I’ve promised in the past to not interfere when it comes to her parents.” I ran my hand through my hair and sighed. “She’d rip my head off and probably yours if we went in there and talked to her. She’ll either be calmer in an hour or be halfway through another song.”
“I’ll be there in forty five,” I said, heading for the locker room. “Don’t tell her.”
I could feel his hesitancy on the other end. “Did you say not to tell her you’re coming over?”
“Yeah. Let her stay in her studio. I need to talk to her parents. Alone.” Eric was silent for a beat and then another. “Tell me the truth, buddy. Does Y/N exaggerate about her folks or do they say some fucked up shit to her sometimes?”
Eric breathed heavy, a door closing, the sounds of the outdoors surrounding him. “They already don’t like you. Her mom called you a man whore and her dad flipped that she wore your jersey the other night. So I guess you got nothing to lose.”
“I don’t give a fuck if they like me. But they will change their act if they want to be part of their daughter’s life. They can’t hurt her like that everytime she sees them.”
“I knew there was a reason I liked you, kid,” said Eric, opening a car door. “I’ll pick you up at the stadium.”
“I distinctly recall you hating my guts.” Eric scoffed, a sliver of a smile on my face. “Oh, I forgot. You loved me from the start, right?”
“Don’t push it, Winchester,” he said. “Get back to work. I’ll see you in a few.”
One hour later I was bouncing my knee in the passenger seat of my truck, Eric pulling into Y/N’s driveway. If my conversation with him over the past twenty minutes was anything to go by, Y/N had been far too kind regarding her parents.
They’d blamed her for Max’s kidnapping. Said it straight to her fucking face when she was eighteen years old. She was a kid and they told her it was her fault. Seven years later they told her they wished she was the one that was dead and they were burying. Called her a brat and diva for being upset on the day of Max’s funeral. Blamed her for paparazzi invading their moment. Blamed her when she tried to talk about Max or hear stories from when they were kids, told her not to speak his name, not when she screwed up his life. The day they “buried” her brother, their relationship had been done for good. They had no problem taking her money though, playing the warm set of parents when they needed to. 
Y/N was not about to be forced to hide in her own home just to get away from people who clearly didn’t give a rats ass about her.
A strong hand gripped my shirt collar as Eric parked, my gaze shooting over my shoulder.
“Hey. I fucked up because I was too protective of Sloane. I don’t want that to happen to you,” he said. I nodded, Eric still leery. “She still loves them, Dean.”
“I know. And if she hates me for what I’m about to do, then she hates me. But her parents need a wake up call and I’ll be the bad guy. Like you said, they already hate me so no harm no foul.” 
“They’ve been by the pool,” said Eric, dropping his hand. I slid out and gave a nod to a few of the security guys in the shack I recognized. I walked around the side of the house, nerves flaring up like this was a freaking super bowl for some reason. Sure, I’d like it if Y/N’s parents were friendly and she had a good relationship. 
But she didn’t deserve their shit. I just hoped it didn’t turn into a screaming match immediately.
I inhaled slowly as I found the older couple relaxing under the umbrella on the patio. 
“Hi, I’m Dean Winchester,” I said as I approached, both their heads turning toward me. “Y/N’s boyfriend. I think the three of us need to talk.”
“Excuse me son but I don’t think we have anything to discuss aside from the fact you're not the kind of man we want dating our daughter,” said her father. I sat down in an open chair at the table, leaning forward with a smile.
“See that’s funny. You think you have a right to have any say in your daughter’s love life. Regardless of the fact the media portrays me as someone I’m not or that your daughter is thirty two years old, you think you have the right based on what? That she’s your flesh and blood? As if you gave an actual shit about her. It’s just us, no need to pretend.”
“What the fuck is your problem?” said her mom, voice on the edge of something dangerous I didn’t like. “Who the fuck are you to say that crap? Of course we love Y/N-”
“There you go being funny again,” I said, narrowing my eyes, looking between them both. “I would never blame my daughter for something that wasn’t her motherfucking fault. I wouldn’t wish her fucking dead or call her names or forbid her from speaking of her missing brother. I certainly wouldn’t snap at her for making a cake to celebrate her brother. If you two really hate Y/N that much, just stay the fuck away. I’m sure she’ll keep giving you as much money as you ask for.”
To my surprise, they didn’t get angry. Y/N’s mom simply stood and wandered off towards the pool, holding a hand over her mouth. Meanwhile, her father closed his eyes, lowering his head.
“At least you have the decency to not lie about it,” I said. “You people are fucking disgusting to come into your daughter’s life like nothing’s wrong when you’ve hurt her as much as those kidnappers did. He was her little brother. She knows she was late to pick him up. You have no idea how hard she’s working to start to feel like it was simply something out of her control.”
They were both silent, still not looking at me.
“Where the hell were you two? Why wasn’t it your responsibility? Why not the parents of Max’s friend? The police? The damn kidnappers? Why’d it fall on the shoulders of an eighteen year old girl? Because you’re weak people, that’s why. It’s why you keep blaming her. You have no idea how lucky you are she’s strong. Telling her you wished it was her in the ground? She might have followed up on that, you morons. She deserves to be able to remember Max openly. She deserves to believe he’s still out there somewhere, even if you don’t. She deserves parents better than you two. I’m only sorry I wasn’t here sooner to say it to your faces.”
I stood up and headed for the back door, her mom making a sort of hiccup sound.
“We never forgave her for not picking Max up on time,” she whispered, lowering her head. “When she gets…I get so angry at her when she wants to bring him up.”
“So much of our lives changed because she wanted to sing. Our privacy. People always offering fake tips about Max. It hurts so much and we keep blaming Y/N for that pain,” said her dad. “We know we shouldn’t but we don’t know how to stop.”
“Try some fucking therapy,” said Eric, walking around the near side of the house, my eyes darting to his. “This is your official notice. You are both banned from this property and contacting Y/N until further notice. Pack up your things and you will be escorted to your hotel.”
I stared at him wide eyed, Eric raising his chin, ignoring me. 
“Now!” he barked. Y/N’s father rose slowly, something steely about him.
“My daughter ask you to do that? Because I’m not leaving without her wanting me gone,” he said. Eric stepped closer, getting in his face.
“My job is to protect Y/N from threats and I am sick of you two coming in here every year and fucking breaking her heart. Get some damn therapy and deal with your shit or never, I mean never, fucking contact her again. You want something, you deal with me. Now get the fuck out.”
Roughly five minutes later Eric and I watched them both be driven down the driveway, my eyes still stuck on him. 
“Keep staring like that Winchester and I’ll think you have a crush,” said Eric, giving a satisfied nod when the gate closed again.
“You said you’re not supposed to interfere with her parents.” Eric shrugged, giving me a smirk.
“She wants to fire me, she can. But those assholes send her spiraling and I’m sick of standing there and watching it. Kiddo was a fucking shell for months after what happened the day of the funeral.”
“I thought I said I had it handled.” Eric spun around and headed back for the house. “Eric.”
“Just cause you can do something on your own doesn’t mean you have to,” he said, opening the door, holding it open. I slid past him into the foyer, Eric patting my shoulder. “Go take care of her. I’ll face the music later.”
“Doesn’t seem your style to hide,” I said, Eric spinning back around to head out, pausing in the doorway. 
“I have an appointment…therapy,” he said quietly. “Probably going to be a waste of time.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Eric shrugged. “I’ll put in a good word with the boss for you.”
“Just focus on taking care of her. I can wait,” he said, leaving and pulling the door shut. I closed my eyes and ditched my bag by the base of the stairs, walking quietly down to the studio.
I knocked once, poking my head inside, frowning as I found the room silent.
And Y/N nowhere in sight.
I flinched when a pair of arms wrapped around my waist, a small body hugging me tight. “Y/N, we should-”
“The team in the shack texted I should watch the security video in the back. I heard the whole thing.” Her head burrowed between my shoulder blades, squeezing me hard. Soft, mumbled cries filled the air, my heart aching for her. Slowly, I turned in her embrace, her face hiding away in my chest when I came to face her. I gently shushed her, one arm around her back, one around her shoulders as I tucked her head under my chin.
“I’m sorry I upset you but I’m not sorry I set them straight. You don’t have to put up with people that won’t take accountability for their actions. So be mad with me and Eric but we saw how much it hurt you. We don’t regret it. The only-”
“You think I’m mad at you guys?” she whispered, raising her head, puffy, red rimmed eyes staring back. A quiet laugh slipped past her delicious lips, her head shaking as she laughed harder. “You’re such a goof, Winchester. That was…that was what they needed to hear. Thank you for saying it when I couldn’t.”
“Maybe they’ll get some help for themselves and things can get better,” I said, even if I didn’t believe they would. I’d happily be proven wrong but I wasn’t counting on it. Y/N shrugged, not seeming to have faith in the idea herself. “Can you play me something?”
“I just wrote two new ones,” she said, catching my head shake. “What’d you have in mind?”
“Nothing particular. Just want to sit and listen to you poke around if that’s alright.” She smiled, taking my hand and leading me inside. She left me at the couch and wandered to the piano bench, rolling her shoulders with a heavy inhale. 
“You like rock and grunge,” she said, tapping a key, her head cocked as she did it over and over. “Think I could pull off a few alt rock songs?”
“You can do whatever the hell you want to, sweetheart. Pretty sure you could throw bagpipes in a song and make it go number one.” I caught her smile as her fingers started to dance, hips starting to sway in her seat.
“Normally I come up with music before the lyrics,” she said, something rhythmic and heavy in the air. “You know people think because I’m the pop princess that’s all I listen to. Never would think Metallica inspired a good number of songs on the last album.”
“You partial to Zeppelin?” I asked, her smirk stronger, the puffiness around her eyes going down.
“Everyone loves Stairway and for good reason but I’m a Kashmir girl,” she said, my eyebrows raising. “Surprised?”
“No. Think I fell in love with you a little more is all,” I chuckled, getting up and taking a seat on the edge of the piano bench, watching her fingers move quickly, a hint of both songs coming through. “I am sorry about your parents, sweetheart. I wish things were different.”
“Me too,” she said, flurrying her fingers before abruptly pulling back. “But I won’t ever completely forgive myself for Max as long as they’re in my life. At least how they are right now. S’like Sloane said, even if you're strong, sometimes you want someone else to be strong for you.”
She bumped my shoulder, a coy smile sneaking onto her face. My hand found hers, clasping them together. “We take turns and it’ll work out how it’s supposed to.”
Her head rested on my shoulder, nodding once. “I don’t want to be sad anymore today. Do you want to go out to dinner?”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” I said, kissing her temple. “People will probably take pictures of us though.”
“I really don’t care anymore,” she said, squeezing my hand. “If I want to go out with my boyfriend, that’s what I’m going to do.”
“That’s my girl.”
Sam POV
“Eek! Y/N and Dean went out! In public!” squealed Cecilia from the kitchen island, showing her phone to Sebastian’s event planner. The woman in her mid-thirties gave the phone a passing glance, probably wishing she could plan a party for one of them instead of fucking Seb. 
He was even more of a dick whenever it got to close to him hosting one of his stupid ass parties at the house.
But the piece of shit’s desire to mingle with the rich and famous on a regular basis meant Max and I had a real shot at our plan working. I worked at the end of the island, near the open planner with a tentative guest list, my back blocking the camera.
All I had to do was slip the piece of paper from my pocket into the planner and hope the event planner added Y/N and Dean to the list without too much thought. 
Without getting caught of course.
And assume that the super detailed planner lady would just go ahead and invite two of the most popular people on the planet right now willy nilly.
That was all assuming Max didn’t get caught in his part of the plan. Or too hurt. Or dead.
Shit, we really were laying it on the line for this one.
A few moments later, we all heard the loud thud, our heads snapping towards the front of the house. I moved fast, taking the split second opportunity to place the paper in the planner. Then I was off the second Max groaned, playing the role of concerned friend. 
Sebastian knew how close we were, that we considered ourselves brothers. Even if we were both scared shitless about the consequences of breaking a rule, he knew I’d abandon my “job” duties to go to him if he was hurt. So I rushed through the front hall to where a few security guys were already surrounding a grunting Max on the floor.
“I’m fine,” grit out Max, even though we could all see the growing bruise on his cheek. Shit. He wasn’t supposed to hit his head. He tried to sit up, a few of the security guys urging him to stay down. Ironic considering they were the ones they’d kill us if we ever got caught.
“What the fuck…” said Seb, coming out of his office, staring at the scene before him.
“He fell down the stairs, boss,” said a guard, Max brushing the guy off and sitting up, wincing a bit. 
“I said I’m fine,” said Max, his movements proving that was a lie. He was hurt. Hopefully just bumps and bruises. But that was key.
If we wanted a believable story, one of us had to get fucked up in the process. And unfortunately for Max, he was beyond shitty at rock papers scissors and had to take the fall. Literally.
“He needs to rest,” I said, forcing my way into the crowd, helping Max to his feet with another wince. I didn’t wait for a response and started taking him towards our room, Seb’s tsk making us both freeze.
“Andy, make sure he’s alright and then Max should rest the remainder of the day. Sam, I trust you can complete all unfinished chores yourself?” he asked.
“Yes sir,” I said, reluctantly letting Andy take my place and help support Max. I watched them disappear down the hall, Seb turning to another guard, Frankie.
“Explain yourself.” The guard stared at Sebastian, his thick swallow heard loud and clear. Sebastian stepped closer, until his nose was jammed right against the young guard’s. “Why the fuck did you punch my house staff in the face after he fell?”
I stared at Frankie, Sebastian smirking when he saw my face. 
“His knuckles are scrapped, Sam,” he said, turning back to Sebastian. “Question is why the fuck do you think you can touch my fucking property?”
“The guy doesn’t respect me,” said Frankie, finding his voice. “Doesn’t laugh at my jokes, don’t call me sir.”
“He knows his role and abides by it. You on the other hand need a reminder,” snapped Seb. “Sam, dismissed.”
I quickly went back to the kitchen to finish my vegetable prep. On the one hand, Frankie was about to have a world of shit thrown his way which normally I’d feel bad about. On the other, I hated his guts and he’d hit Max for no damn reason so he deserved what was coming to him.
“Take a tylenol in six hours and ice that ankle,” said Andy, patting Max’s shoulder from where he looked him over. We shared a quick look before Max headed for our quarters, the event planner shaking her head.
“That’s why I always say you need a stair runner on those grand staircases, be damned the design.” 
“Yeah, I’ll get right on that,” said Andy with a role of his eyes. Cecilia eyed me up and down before looking at her phone.
Weird…
“What do you think about maroon?” asked the planner to her just as I caught Seb storming across the hall to his office.
Yeah, today was not about to be Frankie’s day.
It was late when I finally finished with the chores. I was a better cook than Max so I normally handled dinner and prepping snacks and lunches. But doing all of Max’s cleaning on top of all of mine meant I was exhausted and starving for my own dinner.
“Sam.” I turned my head in the dim hallway, Sebastian sitting in his office, sipping on a glass of what I guessed was very expensive whiskey. “Come in here, please.”
I swallowed. The last time I had a late night conversation in that office, I was being branded by the poker in the fire place. God, if he was going to kill me hopefully it’d be fast.
I entered the room, pulling the door shut when he waved his hand. “Yes, sir?”
“How’s Max?” I clasped my hands behind my back, lowering my gaze. 
“I haven’t seen him yet. I’d assume he’s resting.” 
“You’re a hard worker, Sam. Always appreciated that about you. Max too,” he said, standing with his glass. He spun slowly, taking a sip. “You know what I like most about you boys though?”
Oh God. I was so dead.
“You’re loyal,” he said with a grin. “Sure, it took us a little bit to get there but you were young men. I made plenty of mistakes when I was twenty too. Now…now you boys know your place and I haven’t done a single thing to either one of you since. That’s the kind of trust I know we have. It’s loyalty. Something I seem to be lacking with some of my men.”
I raised my head, Sebastian finishing off his drink. 
“Frankie’s…no longer with the operation. That kind of boy wants my head. All he sees is how to get rid of me. And I won’t say I liked the way he looked at my daughter.”
Okay. Good news, Frankie was dead and buried out in the woods out back. Bad news, Sebastian was in one of his killing moods which normally didn’t stop at one body. Mob bosses were like that.
“It’s too bad you and Max aren’t suited for this kind of work. You’re the kind of boys I could trust to be successor,” said Seb, refilling his glass from the bottle on the desk.
“That’s very flattering of you sir,” I said, his chin raising.
“Those are my issues to deal with though. You and Max on the other hand, I can promise that even when I step down and am long gone, you’ll always have your places in this organization. You were a big investment and it’s paying off. I don’t want all that effort to go to waste,” he said, clasping my shoulder. Fuck, I could literally taste the bile pooling up from my gut.
“Thank you sir,” I said quietly, fighting back a shake when he ruffled my hair.
“If only Cecilia were a man. This kind of work doesn’t lend itself to women…although she does have enough rage inside her to handle it,” he said, walking over to his desk, my eyes widening for only a split second when I saw the planner there. “She fucking slipped that singer and Dean Winchester’s names on the guest list. Can you believe that? The balls on that kid.”
Fuck. It didn’t work. It didn’t-
“I guess it’ll make her happy though,” he sighed, cracking a smile when he looked at me. “And I wouldn’t mind meeting Dean Winchester. I bet I could get him to sign my jersey in the game room.”
“I know how much you enjoy the LA Wolves. I know your work is…stressful,” I said carefully, Seb allowing it. “Perhaps Miss Cecilia wouldn’t be the only one to get some happiness out of the guests.”
“This is why I like you, Sam. Always looking out for the big guy,” he chuckled, nodding his head. “She practically begged when I asked her about it earlier so I suppose if I get a benefit out of it too that’s a happy accident.”
I forced a smile, Seb humming to himself. 
“Alright. Go and tend to your friend. I have work to do.”
“Yes sir,” I said. I was quiet in the house as I made my way to our room, closing our door with a quiet thud. Max sat up from the twin mattress, a shiner on his eye and some bruises covering his arms and legs but otherwise in one piece. “It worked.”
“It worked?” asked Max, a smile growing on his face as I nodded. “It fucking worked!”
“Yup. Now we just got to hope they accept,” I said, kicking off my shoes. “Although…we may have a problem with Cecilia. Dickface confronted her about the names, thought she slipped them in. She covered for us. The way she looked at me in the kitchen earlier, I think she knows I did it.”
“The kid is smart and knows her dad’s in the fucking mob. Maybe she’s got a gut feeling something’s not right. Let’s just hope she keeps her mouth shut until after the party,” said Max. I tried not to worry about her right now. I think she knew enough to not say anything.
“So now we just wait for them to accept a random ass invitation to a party for a guy they’ve never heard of.” I sat down beside him, Max still all smiles.
“Have a little faith, Sammy. We made it this far. Who knows? Two weeks from now we could be free men.”
Free or dead. One way or the other, I had a feeling our stay at the Sebastian household would be coming to an end very soon.
_______
A/N: Read Part 6 here!
217 notes · View notes
charliemwrites · 4 months
Note
Your keeper/kept AU has wormed it’s way so deep into my brain, I don’t think I’ll ever have sane thoughts about the 141 men again they were never sane to begin with
Speaking of Thoughts™️ lol how would a sort of “bring your pet to work day” go for Feral, Shy Thing and Good Girl where everyone goes on base? Kinda like family days or air shows :) OR maybe the safe house is compromised and it’s the safest place to bring them until the threat is taken care of? After all, there’s nowhere safer than at their keepers side on a heavily guarded base.
Hi! None of us have sane thoughts that’s why we’re all here, you’re in good company 😌 and thank you from bringing this brilliant Thought™️ to the table!!
Feral spends all day trailing after Simon. He sends her after recruits during training, and lets her climb all over him while barking orders. She’s utterly obsessed with his mask, cooing over it and clinging to his arm. People stare at the huge, terrifying 141 lieutenant with this little woman they’ve never seen (didn’t even know he was in a relationship) who does whatever she wants to him. And he allows it! Though if they stare too much she hisses and snaps - almost scarier than the LT, geez.
Shy thing spends the first half of the day in Johnny’s barrack, but she gets lonely and feels left out. So at lunch she ventures out and tucks into his side, stays close by. Thankfully most military personnel ignore her or only briefly acknowledge her. Seeing Johnny saunter around base barking orders and being so competent, only to turn around and dote on her…? Does things to her. Things that make her climb into his lap whining snd clinging at the end of the day. She really likes the way his uniform pants fit him.
Good Girl spends most of the day with Price in his office, sitting in his lap or cockwarming him beneath his desk. Shes quiet when he’s on the phone and takes her for walks around the base when she starts getting reckless. He takes her all over, giving her a tour, letting her bask in the tangential authority of being the captain’s. Total power couple. And he loves the number of people that look at her with yearning when she has eyes for no one but him.
Towards the end of the day, when all (or most) of the work is done, the three keepers (and Gaz) meet up to let the girls play. They take over one of the obstacle courses, giggling and helping each other through it, shrieking whenever one of them almost falls off. The boys keep up with them (it’s slow going) to make sure there aren’t any injuries or actual tumbles.
When they’ve finished, they all gleefully go to the communal showers, laughing and chattering and telling each other about their respective day. The boys guard the showers like its fort fucking Knox.
They also start whining and pleading when their keepers try to collect them to go home. They want to have a sleep over!! Please?! There’s a big tv in the rec room for movies and Johnny has a stash of popcorn… pleeeeease?
Yeah, not even price stands a chance against those big eyes.
185 notes · View notes
cod-dump · 1 year
Text
If Ghost and Soap lived together (as roommates or whatever) they would be driving each other up the walls.
Ghost creeps around the house/apartment with absolutely no lights on and scares the shit out of Soap. Soap hoards all the dishes in his studio and every once in a blue moon he brings them out when Ghost is doing the dishes and sets them beside the sink (Ghost absolutely makes him clean them because he was on the last fucking spoon and Soap pulls that shit on him). They have a whiteboard that they use to give messages to each other (they're both terrible about answering texts) and Soap draws on the damn thing at any given opportunity.
Ghost has 1-13 shampoo while Soap has twenty different hair products taking up all the shelves in the shower. Ghost definitely blasts music at odd hours when Soap is in his studio or trying to sleep. Ghost set up a shooting range in the backyard and just goes crazy on a target (again when Soap is most likely in his Studio). If Ghost makes dinner Soap has to supervise him because that man only knows salt and black pepper. If they have guests over Soap locks up his Studio like Fort Knox. Ghost steals the key and likes to watch Soap freak out over the key being gone before slipping it into his back pocket and then asking him "Did you check your pocket?".
Soap feeds the stray cats in the neighborhood and Ghost has to fight him tooth and nail to keep him from bringing them inside. Ghost has woken up to Soap sitting in the corner of his room sketching him like a psychopath. Soap and Ghost both do research on bad jokes and randomly attack each other with them until they're both wheezing on the floor. Soap has put hair dye in place of one Ghost's 1-13 shampoo and because Ghost's hair is so light it takes like a charm. This happens so frequently that Ghost keeps color remover on hand (he has to hide it because Soap WILL take it so Ghost is forced to go out and buy more and show the world his hair).
Gaz has compared them to an old married couple who still think they're teenagers because of the way they bicker and pull pranks of each other. Soap's parents stay over and Soap gives them his room and stays with Ghost in his. They do cuddle because they're not afraid of intimacy between two friends who so happen to be both men. They have cuddled before while watching movies on the living room couch. Soap's mother catches them cuddling (woman has no boundaries and just walked into Ghost's room) and immediately starts planning their wedding. She's all over Ghost, asking him questions about his family and Ghost just bluntly goes "They're dead. You want pancakes for breakfast?". Soap never heard his mother shut up so quick before.
Needless to say I would want a reality tv show based on these two living together.
541 notes · View notes
yandere-daydreams · 3 months
Note
are there 2 gojos? a human and a worm version? did gojo just go outside (did he use the worm sounding method?) and get a worm and name it gojo to date worm you?
i did kinda just mean it in two alternative scenario way but. oh my god. just imagine letting gojo drag you back to his apartment for the first time and there's just a giant fucking terrarium taking up a whole corner of his living room and it has nothing in it but two very spoiled earth worms. you're like 'hey man wtf' and he just excitedly explains that this one is worm you and that one is worm him and they're deeply and passionately in love :) you can't really argue so you just have to sit there and let him explain the whole worm soap opera he's been role-playing while waiting for not-worm you to date him. maybe, if you're lucky, you can smuggle out worm-you and release it in a nice plot of grass, but he's probably got that thing locked up tighter than fort knox. he's just kinda weird like that.
137 notes · View notes
gigglingtiggerv2 · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Crossfire - Chapter Two
Pairing: Jaguar Villain Tom Hiddleston + OFC
Warnings: Smut adjacent / Kink undertones / threats / coercion / bad language
Length: 2.7k
Summary: Having made their escape, there is little Cross and Verity can do but wait to see if their attempts at infiltration are discovered. However will they pass the time?
Chapter List
Full Master List of all works
Tumblr media
Back in the safety of the airbnb they’d rented under an assumed name, Cross slammed the door and paced the tiny flat, irritation crackling from him.
“That was a shit show,” he said, glaring across the room at her.
Verity leaned back against the door, folded her arms and returned his scowl.  “Hey, I did what was needed.  The camera is in place, what more do you want?”
“I’d like you to stick to the fucking plan, for once.”
She raised an eyebrow.  Cross  swore so rarely, it was always more shocking when he did. Like seeing your primary school teacher turning up to class drunk.  But she wasn’t in the mood to pander to him, just because he was feeling pissy.  Jamming her fists onto her hips she stepped forward and  raised her chin.
“You weren’t the one in there.  I had to make a call and I made it.”
“All you had to do was get in and out without anyone noticing.  Now the entire hotel will be on high alert.”
Throwing her arms wide she raised her voice.  “It already was!  I don’t imagine the higher echelon of the Eighth Circle choose their hotels based on their easy going ambience.  That place was locked down tighter than Fort Knox, I was lucky to get in there at all, let alone out in one piece!”
He glared at her in silence, clearly wanting to refute her statement, but unable to deny the truth in what she said.  Finally he took a deep breath and turned away, moving across to where the small receiving device had been set up.
Verity felt the fight go out of her as he fiddled with the buttons and the screen flared into life.  He was right and she knew it.  She’d been over confident and had ended up in a situation she couldn’t talk her way out of.
“What do you think will happen now?” she asked in a quieter tone.
He shrugged.  “I assume they have standard procedures to follow.  They’ll check any rooms you accessed and seeing as you only accessed one, that shouldn’t take very long.  All they have to do is work out which key card is missing and check the log.”
Teeth worrying her lower lip, Verity moved closer.  “We might be alright,” she said, but the hopeful note in her voice sounded forced, even to her.  “They might not find it.  I hid it well.”
He nodded and gave her a tired smile.  “Keep your fingers crossed.”
The screen glowed into life and Verity winced as the picture sharpened to reveal half a dozen members of the hotel staff carefully checking the hotel room, their expressions grim.  Pillows were patted and smoothed back into the place, light fixtures and fittings, carefully examined.  
Holding her breath, she watched as one young girl moved to the shelves where the tiny camera, set into a fountain pen, was placed.  For a moment her cleavage filled the screen as she stretched up on tiptoe to check the top shelf.  The image from the device jostled and jumped as it was moved and then replaced, the angle slightly different now, but still capturing most of the room.
Then the girl moved away and Verity heard Cross release his breath with a hiss.
“They missed it,” she whispered, clutching at his shoulder, barely able to believe their luck.
Cross waited, his eyes never leaving the screen until the staff completed their sweep of the room and closed the door quietly behind them.
“So it would seem,” he replied, the relief heavy in his tone.
Verity flopped into a chair.  “So what now?”
“Now we wait and see if the hotel chooses to confess its sins or if it decides not to inform its guests of the unfortunate infiltration suffered.”
“How will we know?”
Cross shrugged.  “Under those circumstances, standard Eighth Circle protocol would be to switch hotels, so we’d see staff packing up belongings.”
“He could be gone for hours!  Are we just going to sit here and wait?”
Cross glanced round the tiny two room flat and Verity followed his gaze.  Despite the fact they were both travelling light, there was still clutter from their presence scattered over every conceivable surface.  
He grimaced at the mess.  “You could tidy up a bit.”
Verity snorted at that suggestion.  “I’ve done my stint as ‘housekeeping’ for today.  You want it clean, you do it.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” he said, leaning forward.  “If you can point out one item that I have left out of place, I’ll clean the entire flat,” he paused, “and cook dinner.”
Frowning, Verity followed his gaze.  He wasn’t exaggerating, the flat looked like a bomb had been detonated in its midst.  Empty coke cans and crisp packets littered the coffee table while empty mugs and bowls sat congealing in the sink.  It couldn’t all be hers, could it?   Joy flashed through her as she spotted a t-shirt in a crumpled heap by the bathroom door, and then she remembered she’d nicked it from his bag when she got up to make coffee that morning.
“Fine,” she muttered, getting to her feet, “but isn’t it painful to be that anally retentive?”
“And yet, somehow, I survive.”  Picking up the carefully folded newspaper he shook it out and settled back in the chair, his expression so smug she wanted to slap him.
It actually didn’t take as long as she was expecting and she was relieved that Cross chose not to comment on her technique as she filled the sink with soapy water, leaving the crockery to soak while she swept the rubbish from the surfaces into a bin bag.
Humming to herself, she scoured the mugs and bowls clean and set them on the draining board.  Then she ran a clean dishcloth under the tap and began to wipe down the counter.
As she moved into the living area and bent over the coffee table to remove the crumbs and water rings, she heard a rustle from behind her.  Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed that Cross had set down his paper and was watching her work with a wicked smirk on his face.
He shifted in his seat, making no attempt to hide the outline of his very obvious erection, straining at the confining denim.
Verity rolled her eyes.  “Please god, tell me it’s the outfit that’s turning you on, and not the fact that I’m tidying up!”
“Well, watching you clean up after yourself is a novelty and therefore contains a certain frisson of excitement, but no, I can assure you, it is definitely the outfit,”  he shifted slightly in his seat, “or at least, the arse that it’s barely covering.”
Verity wiggled her hips, enjoying the way he needed to shift again in response.  “What is it about french maids,” she said, musing aloud, “is it the feather dusters that reach the spots other sex toys can’t?  Or ze outrageous French accent?  Oh, wait, should I get one of those frilly outfits with the tiny, pointless aprons?”
He laughed at this suggestion.  “And true to form, you’re immediately imagining the character you’re going to play.”
Annoyed, Verity snapped the cleaning cloth at him, catching him mid thigh and prompting a wince. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.
“Ow,” he said, rubbing his leg.  “Careful, I will retaliate.”
She pouted, and put on her best little girl lost voice, twisting the cloth between her fingers.   “Oh, was I a bad girl?”
Cross sighed, “That is exactly what I mean.  You lean into the whole kink dynamic for effect but I’m never sure how much is genuine, and how much is simply a game to you.”
Wrong-footed by the direction the conversation had suddenly taken, Verity stiffened and muttered, “Never heard you complain.”
“It was what I expected.  You’re a grifter, so for you it’s always about assuming a character and playing a role.” He raised a hand.  “It’s not a criticism, you’re very good at it.  But for the record, it’s not the outfit that’s important or the accent,” he paused, considering, “Although I do like the french accent, you can do that again sometime.  It’s the implied ‘service’ element that’s hot.”
“Really?” she cocked her head, “Aww, are you missing the good old days when I was your employee and had to do everything you said?”
“Like that ever happened!”
“Hey!  I was a model employee!  I wore what you wanted, went where you pointed and put up with no end of shit from you and your colleagues!”
“You lied, cheated, stole and on one occasion pulled a gun on my associate!”
Aware that she was edging perilously close to uttering the ‘she started it’ defence, Verity shrugged and attempted to downplay the accusation.  “Well you’re going to get picky….”
Without warning, Cross got to his feet and Verity trailed off into silence as she was reminded, once again, of how very tall he was.
“The way I remember events, you went out of your way to do the very opposite of everything I asked.  It almost felt like a reflex or perhaps a protection instinct.  But I’m forced to ask -  protection from what… or whom?”  He took a step closer and Verity had to fight the urge to back away.  He leaned forward so his next words were whispered directly into her ear.  “You’re bright enough to know that deliberate disobedience in a place like the Eighth Circle would have only made things more difficult for you, so I don’t think it was me you felt you needed protection from.”  He straightened, adding, “Was it protection against yourself you needed?  Fear of what might happen if you surrendered a little of that control?”
Maintaining eye contact now meant her head was tilted back at an almost painful angle and some primitive instinct was quick to remind her that exposing her throat to him was unwise.  Without thinking, she dropped her chin.  She was now staring at his shirt front, and the slightly open vee at the neck and was nearly overwhelmed by the urge to run her tongue from the hollow in the centre of collar bone right up to the straight line of his jaw.
Cross hummed softly and then asked, “Do you even know what you’re afraid of?”
Barely able to hear him over her accelerated pulse, thundering in her ears, Verity shook her head and swallowed hard, trying to force some moisture back into her mouth.  Eventually she managed to croak, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
One finger tapped against his chin and then he stepped closer.  “Call me Sir, again.”
Overwhelmed by the sheer size of him, Verity cast about for a diversion, but couldn’t summon anything more than a weak, “What?”
“Earlier, in the hotel room, you called me Sir. Do it again.”
Verity blinked.  He’d never asked her to do that before.  Normally she called him Cross, or occasionally, ‘Mr Cross’ with just enough dumb insolence to take away any kind of reverence from the title, and once he’d insisted she use his first name.  Her thoughts wandered back to that moment… that had been kinda hot… but was it the demand, or the situation?  She wasn’t sure.
His voice broke through her thoughts.  “I’m waiting.”
“That was a joke, I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I know that, but this is different.  Look me in the eye and say it again.”
“What’s that going to prove?” she asked, playing for time.
“It’s a very loaded term.  And even you are not that good an actor.”  He tilted his head to one side, his eyes never leaving her face.  “If you can use that word, standing right in front of me, without reaction, then we know that this is not your kink, and the subject is dropped.”
Verity’s eyes narrowed.  “And if I can’t, what happens then?”
The grin stretching across his face was positively sinful as he said, “Oh in that case, the game gets considerably  more interesting.”
“What does that mean?”
“Turn around and I’ll show you.”
Unwilling to turn her back on him, clenched her jaw and held her ground.  “Why?”
He leaned forward and took the damp cloth from her fingers.  “I told you there would be retaliation.”
Verity realised he was deadly serious and that she’d need to talk her way out of this situation or it would escalate very quickly.  But the words wouldn’t form.  Breath now coming in short gasps, her mind felt oddly blank as her thoughts slowed to a crawl.
She’d never felt less equipped to handle a confrontation.  Or more turned on, she realised with horror.  Sparks of white hot desire were streaking along her nerve endings.  Of their own volition, her feet moved, turning her back on the dangerous man looming behind her.
“Bend over and hold onto the counter top.”
Good sense and arousal waged a brief but heated war within her, before arousal comprehensively kicked the butt of good sense.  Verity leaned forward, placing her hands on the formica surface and silently cursing Cross beneath her breath.
Before she could gather her scattered, jittering thoughts enough to brace herself, there was a sharp crack and a line of fire raced across the back of her thigh.
“Ow! Fuck!” she yelped, her fingers flying to the livid mark now blooming on her skin.  Trying to rub away the sting she spun round.  “All right.  Now we’re even!”
Cross chuckled, “Oh, we’ve barely started.  Turn around.”
Verity glared at him in mutiny.  “No.”
He cocked his head.  “No?”
Chin raised, she set her jaw.  “No.”
“Fine then.”  With a shrug he dropped the cloth onto the coffee table and resumed his seat.
For a few seconds Verity stared at him.  Was that it?  Had she won the argument?  If so… shouldn’t she feel victorious?  Or at the very least, relieved?  But she was feeling something else entirely.  A warm glow was extending from the point of impact, and her skin prickled with arousal.
Cross picked up his newspaper, ignoring her as he returned his attention to the lead article.
Verity realised she was panting softly, each breath fanning the flames that were licking through her system.  He was just going to leave her in this state!  And there was nothing she could do about it.  The damn flat was too small to even have a wank in private.  Even if she locked herself in the tiny shower room, he’d know.  For a moment, she was tempted to do just that, but the thought of his mocking smirk on her return, kept her feet rooted in place.
Cross glanced up, his gaze slowly running the length of her legs, over her short skirt and up to her heaving cleavage.  Eventually he met her eyes.  “Did you want something?”
Verity ground her teeth.  She’d managed to make everything so much worse.  If she’d just gone along with his suggestion in the first place, it would probably be over by now and he’d be…. 
She realised she was staring at his fingers as they tapped lightly against the worn denim of his jeans.  Too many memories of those talented fingers slammed through her head and she bit back a moan of frustration.
He was just going to leave her standing there, dripping on the carpet until she… She screwed her eyes closed.  The insufferable prick wanted her to beg!
There was silence apart from her accelerated heart rate, pounding through her head as pride wrestled with arousal and Verity was horribly aware that arousal was winning when Cross spoke again.
“Have you changed your mind?”
Determined not to capitulate without some kind of fight, Verity gathered the last shreds of self control and managed to ask.  “How many?”
Cross returned his attention to the newspaper.  “I haven’t decided.”  His grin grew wider as he added, “but the number is increasing the longer I sit here.”  He carefully turned a page, smoothing out the sheet and then asked, “Did you want to continue?”
“Yes.”  The word escaped her lips before she could stop it.
His hand stilled on the newsprint and he turned his head in her direction.  “Yes… what?”
Tumblr media
Next Chapter
95 notes · View notes
violetganache42 · 2 months
Text
Here are my highlights from the Valentine's Day watch party, all in chronological order and categorized this time around:
"Mr. Duck Steps Out":
Just everyone's reactions to Daisy's voice when she made her debut
"Till Nephews Do Us Part":
The thirst counts for Missy and Mina overloading
The return of Bohemian Quacksody
Scrooge having paintings and a statue of Goldie EVERYWHERE (He is a fucking SIMP)
Corporate Cupcake, Money Muffins, Sweet Stocks …You know what? Just the pet names in general.
"KILL HER, BEAKLEY! GET HER ASS!"
WriteBackAtYa: "Spaceballs Ass Luggage"
Us when Millionara falls in the river:
Tumblr media
Jamie: "PULL THE LEVER KRONK" Me: "WRONG LEVERRRRR" Tokuvivor: "Why do we even have that lever?!"
Magica cameo?!
And a Sixpence in Your Shoes
Goldie Shotgun!
Tumblr media
"Fungus Amongus":
Godfrey and I sharing the same brain
Melody: "WHY ARE YOU BUYING CLOTHES AT THE DUCK SOUP STORE?!" Me: "FUCK YOU!"
Everyone going crazy over Morgana
hueberryshortcake: "Save me Scrooge McDuck" Me: "Scrooge McDuck" Godfrey: "Scrooge McDuck save me"
"Prissy is pissy"
DW not denying the girlfriend part
A sax play in the BG whenever Morgana is onscreen, just like Rouge in Sonic X
"NOOOO, NOT LAUNCHPAD!"
"The Golden Lagoon of White Agony Plains!":
RAID THE BUFFET!
Us going FERAL over Goldie
puffywuffy8904: "MY EX WIFE STILL MISSES ME" Me: "BUT HER AIM IS GETTIN' BETTER"
Let the lady lead
Jamie mentioning the "between the legs" joke from Life and Times (No filter, Don Rosa. lol)
THE FUCKING ELEVATOR JOKE
Bisexual waterfalls
Rexx shouting at Missy via an audio message
Foghorn Leghorn
"You loved gold more than you loved me."/"And that's why you loved me."
Jamie's storyboard project
Discord buffering during the FUCKING TANGO SCENE
"The Adorable Couple":
Me: "Piss on the moon, you cloud!" Godfrey: "YESSS PISS ON LUNARIS"
Rainbow connections
"The Duck Who Knew Too Much":
Us @ Fenton, M'ma, and Gandra's OG versions:
Tumblr media
GONDRA
Learning OG Fenton was voiced by Hamilton Camp, thus bringing DT17 Fenton being voiced by Lin-Manuel Miranda full circle
Oppenheimer mention (Stop stealing from the ducks, Nolan!)
Goid
Missy: "cant believe they whitewashed daffy guys"
"SCROOGE, YOU DUMBASS"
Brunette Fenton
QUACKERJACK MENTION???
This whole fucking episode being worthy of the DT17 adaptation fic treatment *cough* Jamie *cough*
"Ghoul of My Dreams":
DRAKEPAD KISS
Archie being a hater
"WHERE IS GOSALYN?"
Jealous Launchpad
DEEEAM WORLD
Morgana needing better lipstick because of how fast it disappears in between scenes
WriteBackAtYa having so many jokes in his head about… goofy ass noises
"And now, with the city asleep, I can FINALLY STEAL ENOUGH MONEY TO PAY OFF MY STUDENT LOANS!"
Lottie pointing out how Archie looked like—
Tumblr media
Me: "Goldie Shotgun sequel when?"
puffywuffy8904: "HOW IS THIS MF SLEEPIN IN THE DREAM WORLD" Us: "*Louie voice* I just am."
"The Dangerous Chemistry of Gandra Dee!":
DOOFENSHMIRTZ
puffywuffy8904: "Webby we need to get Fenton rizzed up"/"Please never say that again"
POWERPUFF GIRLS NARRATOR
Fenton's little growl
*seeing Fenton's hand-me-down suit from his dad* Goofy?
Prego
"YOU WILL RUE THE DAY!"
Gandra obliterating the wrong twink
"What kind of monster doesn't like glazed donuts?"
"Do you feel that spark?" ⚡️ZAP⚡️
The Beaks dab
"What? No signal? Boo!"
"TWO BAD THINGS COULD HAPPEN!"
"I've got your kids! Maybe. I'm not sure how this family works."
ANCHOR ARMS
Coach Dad
🎶IT'S A DAAATE🎶
"Two Can't Play":
Mullet Donald
AIRHORNS
"THEY'RE IN FUCKING TRON"
"A DuckTales Valentine":
DT87's love for mentioning Fort Knox for some reason
puffywuffy8904: *mentions the "DuckTales Apology Video" ranking* Me: "*Miles voice* I made a mistake."
Webby on Scrooge's desk like: She likes to be tall.
Me: "GOLDIE SHOTGUN THREEQUEL WHEN?!"
US IN UTTER DISMAY UPON SEEING WEBBY CRYING 😭😭😭
Sunglasses swag
GOLD FEVER REAL
"A swift kick in the ribs!"/"A what?"/"Aagh!"/"Aah! My ribs!"
Webby running up to Scrooge and hugging him! 💖
"Aww, he does love his family!"
"My Valentine Ghoul":
Gosalyn FINALLY appearing in today's watch party!
Negaduck appearance!
puffywuffy8904: "he's just darkwing after some cigarettes"
"TIME TO GO A COURTIN'"
Missy getting double whammied with emotes of Prissy and Scrooge getting sprayed with water
Tumblr media Tumblr media
(Screenshot edit by @tealottie)
Missy's thirst levels reaching CRITICAL MASS
Quackrinomicon being voiced by KING CANDY
Archie still being a fucking hater
"Keen gear!"
Godfrey and I still being on the same wavelength
NEGMEISTER
THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTINGGGG
Rexx reviving the Missy thirsy count
Missy: "I NEED HIM JESUS" WriteBackAtYa: "No, you just need Jesus"
RED FLAGS! 🚩🚩🚩
"New Gods on the Block!":
Della using party cannons like Pinkie Pie
Scrooge's transition from wallowing to anger and his tail shake
"Why don't you turn into a swan and FUCK OFF?!"
THE FRAMES
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"IT CONSUMES ME!"
"What are your intentions with my Donald?"
Megamind (literally) Huey
Pig couple: DESTROYED
Chris Diamantopoulos having the ✨RANGE✨
Greek God Groupchat
Webby being utterly TERRIFYING with god powers
Dewey having the best handling of his god powers through sick dance moves
"My Don-Don"
"You killed my boyfriend!"/"Boyfriend? Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!"
The immediate failure parallels
Just how much Della has improved as a mother
AND THEN ALONG CAME ZEUS
41 notes · View notes
thelaundrybitch · 7 months
Text
A New Beginning
TURTLE DOVES!!!
I found something in my drafts, and I decided to share it.
I wrote this FOREVER ago - So I'm unsure if I will continue with it.
@leosgirl82 was there when it happened. 😁😎🤩🫶🏽💃🏽
And @drowninghell made some fanart for it - Which I will be posting if it's alright with her 🥰😍💖
Tee hee
Anyways. It was something somewhere between "write what you know" and "wicked fucking self-indulgent."
Also
IT'S NINJA FUCKING TURTLES
SO
Without further ado...
I give you...
Some Cowabunga 💙❤️💜🧡
Tumblr media
18+ content - for mature audiences only!
THESE ARE AGED-UP NINJA TURTLES. THEY ARE GROWN ASSED ADULTS. DON'T BE A <FILL IN THE BLANK>. 😘
Or at least that’s what I tell everyone.
My name is Liz, and I work for OSHA.
You see, after I graduated with an Associate’s in Science for Occupational and Environmental Safety Management, I was offered a job with FED OSHA - Occupational Safety and Health Administration through the federal government - The job of my dreams. So, you can imagine how ecstatic I was when they hired me. 
Everything was great for the first few months - until they brought me in on a top-secret project in New York. They told me they needed a Safety Technician who specialized in humanitarian issues and loved animals. Apparently, they thought I was their girl.
Weird, right?
So, they brought me to this gargantuan underground facility, where I was given my own office with all the latest and greatest technology and safety gadgets - even ones that hadn’t been put on the market yet; It was a fucking dream. One of those ‘too good to be true’ scenarios.
And indeed. It was too good to be true. 
They moved me to Manhattan to be closer to the facility because it was necessary for me to be on call 24/7 - which was totally fine because it was just me. 
And because they paid me WELL.
So, after a few months of puttering around, fixing compliance issues, they decided it was time for me to start in my REAL job position.
“Ms. Bueno, we will be bringing you in today, to help with the major issue we hired you for, initially.”
“Great! I can’t wait to get to work!” I said to the director.
“Good. I’ll be waiting in Section K22. Please meet me down there.”
“The high-security clearance sector?” I asked, a bit confused.
“Yes,” he replied.
I nodded, and he went to walk away but stopped at my office door. “ Oh, and Ms. Bueno?”
“Yes, sir?” I asked.
“Do make sure you use the restroom before you head down. Some of the things you see may be… Shocking,” he told me.
“Certainly, sir,” I said as he turned and left completely this time.
What the actual fuck are they doing down there. 
I met the director at the entrance to K22 - which turned out to be more secure than Fort Knox - and I was handed a white lab coat and some safety glasses by his security detail, which consisted of like seven huge dudes.
“Why are you guys all wearing bullet-proof vests, and I get this?” I asked, shaking the flimsy lab coat between my index finger and thumb.
“They seem to have a soft spot for females,” said ‘Bruce’, according to his name tag.
“Well, Bruce,” I said, unimpressed by his explanation, “OSHA clearly states that whatever PPE or other safety-related articles are donned by personnel going into an area of safety concern, those same articles need to be worn by EVERYONE that enters. Not just the men,” I stated, giving him my best OSHA inspector face. 
“She’s not wrong. Give her a vest for under her lab coat,” said the director.
That’s right. Fuck you, Bruce.
After all of my safety gear was on, they walked me down a long, brightly lit corridor that led to another door. This door could only be opened using iris recognition. 
“Ms. Bueno, what you are about to see, is one of the World’s most highly classified projects. If you tell anyone about this, you and said people will be eliminated.”
“Eliminated?” I choked out through a slightly embarrassing squeak.
“Eliminated. As in loss of life. Death. And you will be expunged - completely erased so no one knows you ever existed. Do you agree to these terms?”
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. What in the HELL have I gotten myself into…
“Uh, yes?” I said, making my response sound more like a question.
“I’m not convinced, Ms. Bueno. I need to be very convinced before we go through these doors. It’s a matter of national security.”
“100%, sir. I am absolutely, 100% positive. I swear to these terms, sir,” I told him, feeling my backbone reappear.
“Good. Samuel, we’re ready for entry,” he told the biggest security staff member.
Samuel cocked his gun and stood in front of the door, in the ready position, pointing the gun at it like the zombie apocalypse was about to ensue.
I swallowed nervously.
That’s a fucking lie. I’m about to shit my pants. No wonder he had me go to the bathroom before I came down here.
Anyway, as I’m wishing I had a diaper on, the director leaned in and initiated the iris recognition scan, successfully opening the sealed door. The security detail filed in first.
I followed the director into what looked like a giant laboratory. As we got ready to turn the corner, his security detail fanned out in front of us.
“LET US OUT!” Boomed a deep, raspy voice.
*Adrenaline rush*
“Just sit down. It’s not gonna help,” said another.
“HE NEEDS HELP!” yelled the first voice.
“I know, but they aren’t gonna let us out. And honestly, I don’t even know who could, or would, help him.” came a third voice.
I saw the director from the corner of my eye, turn and look at me as I stood stock-still, looking forward, and waiting to be told that I could proceed.   
He didn’t say anything, so I turned and looked at him, my eyes the size of Jupiter. All pupil.
He nodded once, and I stepped around the corner.
May God strike me dead where I stand, if I’m lying. 
There was a giant reinforced cage, resembling jail cells, holding the fucking Ninja Turtles in them.
I shit you not.
Albeit they were a bit older than we’d seen them in movies, and they looked slightly different, but they were definitely THE Ninja Turtles.
I gathered myself and turned to the director. “What is my job here, sir?” I asked him, completely composed with a straight face.
“Health and Safety,” He said, sadness flashing across his eyes for less than a moment. “We will leave you and let you do what you need to do,” he said, leaving me alone with the caged turtle-men. 
Once I was sure I was alone, I looked around for security cameras. When I'd decided there were none - probably for top-secret and national security reasons - I took off the stupid lab coat, safety glasses, and bulletproof vest and ran to the cages.
“Oh my god, what happened to him?” I asked, squatting down and reaching an arm through the bars to check Donatello’s pulse.
The other three turned and looked at me, confused. 
“Don’t touch him,” Growled the red-banded bara.
“Who are you?” asked Leonardo, putting a hand up in a placating manner, in an attempt to get his brother to back down.
“I’m the lead Health and Safety technician for this project. They hired me six months ago for this project, but this is the first time hearing about all of this,” I said, slightly alarmed by the faintness of Donnie's heartbeat. “Now, please tell me, what happened to him,” I said to Leo, looking him directly in the eyes.
“We don’t know. They sedated him. Heavily. And took him out of the lab. He was gone for two days. He’s been like this since they brought him back,” said Leo, now kneeling in the corner of the cell so he was next to me and his unconscious brother.
“And how long ago did they bring him back?” I asked.
“Maybe three to four hours ago? It’s hard to tell. We’ve been stuck in here forever.”
“Oh God… Is he allergic to anything? Does he have any health issues?” I prodded, my eyebrows furrowed, and my face twisted in clear heartache.
“Uh, no, no. None of us do. I mean, unless you count the fact that we’re overgrown, mutated, humanoid turtles…” He said.
I couldn't help but smirk at him, “No. That’s actually quite normal. This is New York, after all.” 
Mikey huffed a stifled giggle from beside me, now standing the closest he could get to us, in his own cage.
As I started to stand up, Leo stuck his hand through the bars and grabbed my wrist. I looked into his gorgeous blue eyes, which were filled with sorrow and hope. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t even done anything,” I told him softly.
“Yea, but you’re going to - I can see the genuine worry on your face,” he said, my face heating up as he pulled me closer to his cage to get a better look at me.
“I need to go look through the files over by the entry door,” I whispered to him. “I need to see what they were doing to him, so I can help him.”
Leo released my wrist and wiped a tear from my cheek. I didn’t even realize I was crying. 
“I’m Leo,” he introduced himself.
“I know who you guys are. You’re kinda my childhood heroes,” I confessed, looking down.
“Thank God,” huffed Raphael, visibly relaxing.
“You’re actually gonna help us then?” asked Mikey from behind me.
I turned and looked at the orange-clad turtle, “Yes, of course.”
I turned back to Leo and leaned in closer to him so he could hear me whisper...
“I don’t know how, but I promise, I’ll help you get out of here.” 
Enjoying my work? Find my Master list HERE
Tumblr media
~Tags~
@leosgirl82 @sharpwindow @post-apocalyptic-daydream @eveandtheturtles @m1dnyt3-w0lf @raphsmuneca @tmnt-tychou @snackugaki @scholastic-dragon @miss-andromeda @happymoonangel @drowninghell @raphslovemuffin80 @chicchanmooshy @xanadu-702 @pheradream-15 @jurikyu-blog @raphielover @zombiesnips-blog @meowph-132 @shakeyourtrees @iheartchv @fluffytriceratops @fyreball66 @memes-in-a-half-shell @t-annuki @waterstar2016 @symmetricalkazekage @androidships007 @tinkabelle19
*If you aren’t on this list, please let me know if you want me to tag you in my other work or if you prefer me to not tag you 😘
58 notes · View notes