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ohlovxr · 2 years

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distant lands and dungeon masters | eddie munson x fem!reader

you don’t know anything about that game your boyfriend loves to play, but that doesn’t mean you can’t indulge in it with him… even if it does feel a bit ridiculous.

words: 2k

c.w. fem!reader, p in v sex, roleplaying (ig? once the goofy shit’s over, it kinda just stops yk + the costume is literally just a slutty medieval dress thing that we’re gonna pretend associates with elf bc i suck with that kind of detail. k? k.), oral (fem receiving), fingering

masterlist

tina gets full credit for the “i love you” during the orgasm thing. her mind is literally gold and i wanna give her the biggest smooch all the time for it. oh! also the bodice of the dress is one that rests under the boobs yk (and this is important briefly lol). and also i suck at descriptions and titles and intros to fics lol so i apologize

Eddie’s laugh rang through the trailer.

The sight of his girlfriend sitting atop the kitchen counter, leaning back on your hands, and wearing a familiar looking, but very little, elf costume is what invoked it.

But it wasn’t real laughter, no. It was a laugh of disbelief. One that came out from a mouth so very dry because of the soft flesh that exposed itself as the short skirt you wore rode up when you crossed your legs in a painfully awkward way you weren’t used to and the way the brown bodice of your dress pushed your cleavage up and on display just for him.

One that came from a guy who believed he had to have been the luckiest fucker in the world to have a girl willing to indulge him like this.

“I happen to be lost, good sir,” your voice came out airy - nervous - and you would’ve felt increasingly ridiculous had your eyes not trailed down to see a very large tent in your boyfriend’s pants. “I’d been hoping to find the help of a skilled… of a, um…”

Eddie’s lips were quick to upturn into a wolfish grin before he whispered into your direction, “Dungeon master.”

You nodded slightly, giving him a shy smile in thanks, and straightened your back as you spoke again, this time more confidently, “I’d been hoping to find the help of a skilled dungeon master.”

Eddie hummed, his grin ever-so-present and his eyes gleaming with unbridled joy. “To?”

It has to be the first time in your entire relationship with him that he’s actually managed to keep his mouth from running - and it just had to be to torture you.

“To… To help me find my way back home.”

“Ah,” Eddie had begun to edge closer to you and your legs uncrossed without you even realizing, thighs now resting flat on the counter and feet swinging nervously. He gestured around dramatically, speaking in a grandiose manner, “You come from a distant land?”

“Yeah! Yes, um,” you cleared your throat, “And I’d… uh, I’d be willing to do-” your legs parted slowly for him “-anything to pay you for…” your brows furrowed slightly before you lit up again, “for safe passage!”

He fits between your legs like a missing puzzle piece and his rings burned against the skin of your thighs when he gripped onto them. “Anything?” his words came out low and playful, his eyes trailing shamelessly over your cleavage and back up to your face to meet your eyes. “I’m afraid a dungeon master such as myself is a little more technical than creative. You’re gonna have to get specific, little elf.”

The statement had laughter bubbling in your throat that you barely managed to restrain in order to get your words out straight, “Not creative? Eddie, you-” The expectant look he gave you made you stop mid sentence, your lips forming a silent ‘Oh’.

“Well,” you resume with a small smile, sliding your hands up his chest and locking them behind his neck, playing with the hairs there, “I’d let you have me any way you wanted.”

“Yeah?” Eddie’s voice came out low and quiet, his hands sliding up your thighs as yours had begun to scratch at the nape of his neck. His eyes drooped at the sensation.

“Mhm,” you continued, “I’d let you put me into whatever position you like ‘nd flip this skirt up,” you brushed soft curls back and brought your lips to his ear, “I’d let you fuck whichever hole you wanted ‘till you stuff me full of your cum,” you laughed softly when he groaned out a loud “Fuck” before you added on cheekily, “Oh, great one.”

The sound that came out of him next was strangled, sounding next to inhuman, as the fingers that trailed all the way up your skirt were met with your bare pussy, lips already wet and clit swollen with want.

His fingers ghosted through your folds before a rumble came from the back of his throat. You pulled back to meet his gaze and was greeted with yet another mischievous smirk. “Why, what a naughty elf!”

His voice sounded ridiculous - three pitches too high with what was his attempt at an overly dramatic British accent - and another spout of laughter bubbled in your throat. This time, your giggles echoed throughout the room - and Eddie’s laughs were quick to join yours.

You managed to laugh until you were both breathless, faces close and lips ghosting over one another. Eddie let out one last chuckle before whispering, still using that stupid accent, “And why, pray tell, do you still laugh, dear lady?” His hands hike up the soft rich green coloured fabric of your skirt for good measure. “I believe I still require payment for my services.”

“You do? Oh, you do, don’t you? Ah!” You yelped, giggles still following every sound that came from your mouth, when he pulled you to the edge of the counter by your hips, urging you to lie down when his hands pushed your legs up by the gripping at the backs of your thighs and leaving you open for him. Heat spread over your cheeks when you felt his breath hit your pussy and you told him breathlessly, yet cheekily all-the-same, “Y’should take your payment then, dungeon master.”

His voice still edged at the line of weird when responded, but your cunt still flooded with slick, “With a pretty pussy like this, how could I resist such an offer?”

It’s messy - like it always is. He eats you out like a man starved - his tongue gliding through your folds and fucking into your fluttering hole until a mixture of his spit and your slick are running down his chin and your ass, dripping onto the edge of the counter and the floor. His lips latched onto your clit and one hand left your thigh to fuck two thick finger into your cunt, forcing a cry from your lips.

His fingers curled up, rubbing incessantly over your g-spot, and your walls clenched around them. His mouth left your pussy and you pushed up onto your elbows to meet his gaze half way. Your cheeks flush in embarrassment when you’re met with the state of his face; his lips swollen shiny with slick and spit, his chin dripping with it too.

A devilish grin never looked more fitting on someone. His dark eyes gleamed dangerously as leant forward, his body casting a shadow over yours, and connected his forehead to yours. His lips met yours in a series of messy kisses, his tongue tasting of you, and you’re both moaning into each other’s mouths; you because of the fingers that continued to work your pussy and him because of the sight you were to behold. He pulled away and laughed lowly, “Beg for it.”

You were just at the brink, he felt it and his thumb hovered over your sensitive clit. You whined softly, “Eddie…”

“C’mon,” he singsonged before he leaned back into you, fingers stopping their movement and his thumb only pressing down onto your clit, tone suddenly turning desperate as he pressed his head to yours again, “c’mon, c’mon, c’mon, pretty girl, just beg for it. Beg for me to make you come and I’ll do it. I swear I’ll have you dripping down my fucking wrist ‘nd then I’ll stuff you full just how you like it.”

“Please, baby.” Tears pricked at your eyes when his fingers began to pump inside of you again, the wet squelch of your pussy taking the thick digits echoing throughout the room, and his thumb began to rub light circles into your clit that had you whimpering. “Please make me come!”

His other hand left your thigh and the sound of his fly being unzipped echoed through the room. The length of his cock slapped against your inner thigh and your eyes shot down to see him, the fat tip red and gleaming with precum.

“Want you to fuck me with that big fucking dick, Eddie,” you spoke through gritted teeth, walls clamping down around his fingers as you got impossibly close, “‘till I can’t fucking see straight.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie didn’t try to hide his awe with a whisper. He stared down at you with eyes full of wonderment and lust, committing the way your eyes fluttered closed and your nose scrunched up to memory for the thousandth time as you came around his fingers with a cry of his name. His voice was loud and needy - his cock jumped against your thigh. “God, I love you.”

He was impossibly quick to rip his fingers from you and guide his cock to your entrance, pushing in with ease. Your walls, swollen and spasming, molded and gripped onto his cock like a lock to a key.

His thrusts started up immediately, desperation guiding him, and the lewd sounds that were both your pussy gushing around him and his balls slapping against your ass echoed through the trailer.

His hands were back on the backs of your thighs once more, but this time pushing your legs further towards your chest. Still, they were separated enough for him to get his fill of your pussy swallowing his cock, watching as you painted a pretty white ring onto the base of him, and your breasts.

“Hold your leg up for me, baby, please.” Without a second thought, you listened. You brought your hand up to grip the thigh that Eddie released. Now, his hand was free to pull at the fabric that covered your breasts. He groaned in satisfaction, eyes widening in appreciation, “There my girls are.”

You whined as the cool air hit your nipples, but the warm hands that palmed at them quickly made up for it. His thrusts picked up just to watch as they moved against the force of them.

Another grin found its way to his lips as his eyes trailed over your body before he had to pull his bottom lip between teeth to stop the sudden ‘Fuck!’ that was bound to escape him after your pussy clamped down around him with a finality he knew all too well.

Eddie looked up to find your eyes, noting with pride at how glassy and hooded they were because of him, and his hand moved down from your breasts to thrum at your clit - your vision blurred, the knot in your belly snapping with a pitiful cry from your lips.

“That’s it,” his voice broke with the second word - the way your pussy spasmed around him and attempted to milk every drop of cum he had yet to give impossible to ignore - and he had to clear his throat, his voice more desperate than ever, “you like coming on my cock, baby? You look so fucking pretty when you-” he moaned “do.”

“Yea-” your breath caught in your throat when he gave a deep thrust. A triumphant laugh escaped his lips but that didn’t stop you, fucked out, words slurred, and all, “Well, I think I look prettier plugged up with your cum, Eddie.”

A breathless laugh came from him, though his face conveyed nothing but him attempting restraint. “Stop, or-”

“Always feel prettier walking around with you dripping down my thighs.”

That did it.

He gave a strangled shout as he thrusted into you for the last time, a dragged out “fuck” leaving his lips in a lazy drawl.

You both moaned as his cum pumped into you; you because of the fullness and warmth that spreads through your core and him because of the walls that clamp down around him to bleed him dry for real this time around. You bit your lip to fight off a small giggle when you felt his balls twitching against your ass.

He let his body fall over yours as you both caught your breaths. With a grumble, you fought off the messy curls that crowded you, a smile rising to your face when you felt Eddie laughing into your neck.

When Eddie finally got his breath back, he lifted his head and offered you a weaker version of that devilish grin with a hum. “We should invest in some elf ears for the next time, cutie.”

#eddie munson x reader #notsfw #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things

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lake-archive · 2 months

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Me? I'm His Fiancée

AO3 Link - Fling Posse Selfship / Yumeship Masterlist

Fandom: Hypnosis Mic

Characters: Dice Arisugawa, Ann Wolff (OC)

Pairing: Diceann (Dice/Ann)

Summary: Just when Dice thought that he could forget the time where he put Ann on the spot with a choice - To give him money or to marry him - they have to remind him in the worst way possible!

Words: 1,304

Sometimes one thinks that it cannot get worse, it just can't. However, someone would always make sure to give you the appropriate lesson, one way or another, and there is nothing you could do about it. Because it technically happened and you cannot deny it. So all you could do was stand there in shock, growing pale while having to take it in. Because even if you protest, the past will come haunting you. No, it already did just that. And for Dice it took shape in one sentence.

“Ah, me? I'm Dice's fiancée. I apologize for any trouble he has caused you.“

That sentence hit harder than it should. It may as well be a punch right into the guts. Especially since Ann themself had said it with no shame, no hesitation, no stuttering. None of that. In fact, their smile shortly after had only made it worse. They were saying it with no issues. All so he relived the following conversation.

“ Ya gotta choose! Either you give me some money or you marry me! ”

“ Alright, I’ll accept. Let’s get married. ”

He had been left speechless at the time, only staring for a good moment when they had agreed on this. And how this conversation ended… It was something he could never live down.

“Who knew being a finacée is so much fun~ You know, I actually can’t wait to get married now!”

And he firmly believed that they were just teaching him a lesson, to not pull this shit on them when asking for money. The direct approach never worked yet at worst Ann just told him “No”. However, maybe they had been angry when Dice was asking like that, at least he assumed. So he promised not to do that anymore, knowing how this would end. And he thought that was just a lesson. However, some time passed, he nearly forgot and they started to introduce themself as his ‘future spouse’. And it had him always speechless. And yet, things would only become worse…

“Fiancée!?” One of the guys said out loud, said ‘guys’ being some gambling friends Dice had made over time. All of them meet up by chance to hit the machines or play a match of poker and hope to win big eventually. Well, one of them borrowed more money than the others, usually Dice. So they were all in disbelief when hearing that he of all people had a fiancée. “Wh… When did that–”

“Oh, not too long ago. Don't worry~” Ann responded, not even giving anyone else a chance to have a word in this nor protest it. No chance in the slightest. “Not many people know yet.”

“Woha… Didn't know you already found someone. Nor did I think that anyone would take you.“ One of the guys said, facing Dice directly. “Why didn't you say somethin’?“

The self–proclaimed professional gambler was still somewhat processing the situation. Firstly, ow! That hurt deeply! No, it really did. He wasn't that unattractive… Right? But the other thing, which was way more important, was that… Well that… Isn't super wrong. The two are a couple, dating in fact. But this– “Hold on, ya seriously believe that they're–”

“Haha, Dice doesn't like making a big fuss out of it.” His partner interrupted, suddenly clinging onto one of his arms with both of their own to drag him closer, his own arm pressed right against them. A quick glance over to them and he saw that ever so carefree smile. One he was slowly getting used to as more time passed yet always at least somewhat caught off guard by. “Besides, you know how he is, don't you? When it comes to gambling, anything can slip his mind!”

Was that how they thought about him sometimes!? For real now!? … Ok maybe that's not completely wrong… But…

“Fair ‘nough.” The guy said in response before continuing: “So future Arisugawa–San, care to join us for a bit?” Hold on, future Arisugawa!? Why is everyone taking five steps ahead here!? Ah great… And yet, maybe for a second Dice did not exactly dislike the thought… A future Arisugawa… Arisugawa Ann… Huh. It didn't sound half bad to be ho– Hold on he shouldn't think that! It's not the time! He had to sort this mess out somehow! After all, Ann was just pulling everyone's leg here!

“Huh? Me? Gambling with you guys?” They asked however, as if having to make sure. Oh they came along for a reason though, didn’t they? And he could almost feel that the reason was– “I mean if it’s ok. Someone has to look after Dicey’s gambling expenses. Right?” Yeah, that’s wh—

“Wait, Dicey!?” Hearing and repeating that out loud made Dice a literal mess, his cheeks – no, face – all red and his entire body feeling warmer. He wasn’t sure how to feel about this, how to react. But they may as well got him on a leash now, trapped, no escape. And all he could do now was take it all in. Whether he liked it or not. Just as a spouse probably would. Was that how this worked actually? Hard to say, not like he ever experienced it nor had he thought he ever would. He was really questioning it now… Was Ann serious? Dead serious? Super serious!? Actually serious!? That… All of that… Well… No way, right? They gotta be shitting everyone here. He can’t buy into this! He can’t!

And yet, they turned to him once he had repeated it, looking at him ever so innocently. It was obvious that they were pretending and yet… How could he fight back at their smile honestly? It was impossible to do. No matter the intentions behind it, he just got weak. At least a little. “Yeah. Is that a problem?” They asked with that chuckle before tightening their grip a little on him. “My little Dicey~ Don’t tell me you’re still not used to it.”

“I… That…” Still not used to it!? They never called him that before until now! What the—

“Ok lovebirds. Ya want a room?” One of the guys laughed out of nowhere when taking in the scene, making the both of them turn their heads. Needless to say, the gambler was all embarrassed, wanting to hide his own face at this point, maybe even storming out of the casino for once. This was a mistake, a big one! Ann was talking nonsense and everyone was believing it! All because he was too flustered to say a thing or they would get ahead of him! Was this what he was going to be known for now!? An engaged man in his twenties!? Wasn’t that a little too early actually!? He was too young for this! The two barely even—

“Sorry, force of habit.” They responded however, finally letting go of him. “I just can’t help myself sometimes, right?” As if awaiting a reply they were looking at him again, the smile… That damned smile! They were having their fun and they knew it all too well! Everyone just ate the shit up in the end and there was nothing he could do about it… He had to play along until finding the right time to sort out this mess, didn’t he? Great…

“R… Right…” He responded, at the brink of mumbling though only because it was just… A lot. It was a lot. A lot to take in. Talk about inconvenience.

Then again, maybe deep down Dice wasn’t entirely against the idea… But it’s way too early to think about that, isn’t it!? He’s too young for it, they’re too young for it! ‘sides, not like the two could ever get married anyway! … And yet, the idea doesn’t sound too bad…

Maybe– Ah no, what was he thinking? Of course not! Nevermind…

#Nimue's Lake #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #selfship fanfiction #self ship fanfic #selfship fic #dice arisugawa #arisugawa dice #hypmic dice #hypnosis mic oc #hypmic oc #self ship fanfiction #Hit The Jackpot #Diceann #selfshipping community #self ship community #s/i x f/o

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naturallyexcessive · 1 year

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Revue Starlight’s universe is so wild to me. At least in the anime, if you don’t write off the revues as symbolic or metaphorical representations of their conflicts of ideals, I mean.

Obviously there’s the whole deal where almost none of the girls ever question the absurdity of their situation. “Ah yes, of course we must duel each other in hand-to-hand combat to become the leads in a production.” Of course Claudine is mildly annoyed when she’s unable to completely MURDER Hikari in the Revue of Fate.

But there’s also the other supernatural happenings that surround the revues.

Like, how do you explain Hikari’s disappearance to normal people? “Oh, Hikari’s period of absence? Sorry Ms. Sakuragi basically she won an underground theatre fight club and sentenced herself to an eternity of Sisyphus allegory in a Starlight-based pocket dimension to save us from losing everything.” And that’s the funny part, they can’t even talk about what happens in the fight club because that’s the number one rule of the fight club.

Then there’s the whole deal regarding their “brilliance” (which, yes, is technically just a metaphorical representation of their passion and drive, but we’re taking everything at face value here) which is established to be an outright tangible thing that can be measured. More importantly it’s something that can be taken.

It’s already wild enough in the anime. The implication that these theatre kid death games are just happening in random production schools around the world and leaving a trail of chronically burnt out kids behind without explanation is pretty much just glossed over since it’s mostly not relevant to the story our main characters are facing.

Then you think about the game, and how at the beginning of the main story they were essentially taking this a step further by saying “compete with the other schools and take their brilliance” which would leave at least three entire classes from three separate schools with chronic burnout had things not worked out in the end.

It’s a good thing that Hikari’s backstory proves that you can still strive to get that brilliance back instead of being completely horrified of the stage, that’s for sure, but that just brings in the issue of, well, damn! You can go back to the theatre kid death game! Why not subject yourself to this more than once and risk getting worse burnout than you did before?

That’s not even mentioning that most of the stage girls are literally willing to die for the stage. Metaphorically? Probably, but honestly? At least 80% of the girls are unhinged enough to be talking literally.

Oh, and we haven’t even started on the time travel fuckery that goes on.

Thankfully, this is ultimately a franchise about friendship and competition and gay swordfighting and growth of self and how to move on from what you love and not about what happens when you get stuck in a time loop for the equivalent of sixty-ish years!

#revue starlight #you could write a solid scp article about the stage and giraffe honestly #also i know the stageplays do acknowledge some of this #but they're a separate universe(?) and a whole different can of worms #oh yeah there's the korosu too! damn stage monsters!#'kill the stage creatures' my giraffe in christ we are high school students

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razorsharpteeth · 6 months

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TIMING: A few days after the recent full moon PARTIES: Monty @howdy-cowpoke and Samir @razorsharpteeth LOCATION: Prickly Pears SUMMARY: Samir shows up at the farm for some per diem work. Monty immediately guesses the other is a werewolf and still lets him work. Farmwork is fun, but why is it only the animals that have heartbeats? CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A

If he had a dollar for every man that turned up on his farm looking worse for wear, he'd have two dollars, which wasn't a lot but it was weird that it had happened twice. Three times, technically, if you counted both times Gael had shown up during a full moon.

At least this one hadn't killed and eaten anything. Nor was he naked or disoriented, actually—he seemed perfectly cognizant and was here about the paying work, he just also looked a bit like he'd been put through the ringer. Which… was far closer to the truth than Monty realized as he gave the man a once-over, not particularly discreet about it though it seemed to come from a place of worry.

He knew what time of the month it was. He also knew what a magnet he was for werewolves, so—

"Sí, you can have the per diem position," he agreed, hugging one arm to his midsection and letting the other elbow rest atop it, hand pressed gently to his own face. Concern etched lines in his features as he frowned, disliking the sight of some familiar would upon yet another undeserving visage. "But… are you… all right? Have the last two nights been, ah, unkind to you?" There was a beat. "I do not mean to pry, señor Zidan, I just… I am a worrier." He offered a small smile. "Humor me?"

—

Some fights were more lucrative than others. Some fights were easier on the body and soul. But not this full moon, this full moon Samir had woken in his cage aching and more tired than usual. His usual envelope had not held a lot of money. He’d huffed, but said no more, and gone home to seek an odd job. It wasn’t like he’d not done this before: he used to hold down jobs before, albeit never for long, and at those he returned to work after the full moons as well. He did not permit himself a break.

And sure, he looked worse for wear. There was a nasty stitch in his side. A bruise forming on his jaw. But it wasn’t too bad — he could open both his eyes, and there was no taste of iron in his mouth. He was capable enough, and besides, idle hands had to be avoided. He let the other watch, despite the crawling sensation it brought. Samir didn’t like to be witnessed. He hoped Razor didn’t mind as much.

“Great. I’ll be here tomorrow again? Whatever I can help with today …” He trailed off. He would be amused by being called señor Zidan if it wasn’t all so discomforting in the first place. There was an insinuation here, sat right between them. He clicked his tongue, shrugged. “I understand. I have the worrier gene too.” It was more of a learned trait, admittedly, unless it was something he’d gained from his late father. His mother didn’t have it, though, that was for certain. “I’m fine. If … what you are trying to hint at is an issue, I’d understand. I’ll get out of your hair right away.” Workplace discrimination was, perhaps, warranted in the case of shapeshifting monsters, right? “And you can call me Samir, please.”

—

He never knew if someone else knew what they were. He hadn’t, after all, not for a long time… and Gael didn’t, despite the circumstances. So he couldn’t assume much, but to someone who had befriended a number of werewolves, the signs were pretty obvious.

“Oh!” Monty exclaimed, evidently horrified at the idea of having given the man—Samir—the wrong impression about his concern. “No, no, nothing like that! I—we—” He took a breath (that he didn’t need), stabilizing his thoughts after a beat and then shaking his head. “It’s no issue. I just want to make sure you are okay, that’s all. I have friends who are…” He let the sentence hang in the air before dropping to the dirt beneath their feet, figuring that some things could go unsaid, at least for now. If he was a werewolf, or a were… something else, there was a decent chance he’d realize that everyone on the farm lacked a heartbeat sooner rather than later. That is to say, once they were around other people. “Please. Follow me, we’ll need to speak with Daisy. I am sure she’ll have a list of chores that need doing—I can walk you through them.”

As the pair moved deeper into the property, the animals milling about their paddocks and creating a lovely ambient backdrop of bleats and whinnies, more and more hands seemed to crawl out of the woodwork. Perhaps they’d been there all along, or perhaps they’d simply been waiting for a signal from their boss that it was okay to resume work—he never wanted to compromise their safety, after all.

—

There was a look of confusion on Samir’s face, as if the simple act of consideration was enough to make him question things. In a sense, it was — it was a strange and unbecoming thing to be faced with. He didn’t talk to many fellow supernaturals, let alone werewolves, and felt like there was something stained about them. He held judgment for his own nature: so why shouldn’t this farmer?

Instead, he questioned if he was okay. “Ah. No, I can assure you I’m fine. It might not … look exactly fine,” he said, gesturing at his face, the discoloration at his jaw in particular, “But I have taken care of it. I can assure you that I’ll still be capable of whatever you throw at me.” Painkillers helped. As did his masochistic tendency to bite through the pain and just do it, but such details were not really job-interview material. Or any kind of conversation, maybe — it wasn’t like Samir was self-aware enough to verbalize them. “The others you know, are they also in town? You don’t have to … tell me who they are, or anything, I’m not asking that. This all takes a certain level of confidentiality. I just don’t meet a lot of people like me.” He smiled, despite himself. He’d met the two other wolves at the Pit, but they hadn’t even exchanged their human names. Part of that was his own design.

He moved in tandem with Monty, not sure if he liked that the other knew of his predicament. But he needed the cash, he’d made the drive and so he might as well stick it out for today. Besides, the other seemed kind, rather than disgusted. Still confusing, that. “Sounds all good. You’ve got a nice array of animals here.” Their scents mingled into one overwhelming thing and Samir let himself be distracted by it, the noise and smell of farm. That, too, was promising: if it was a lot on the mind as well as the body, he’d be tired enough to sleep at the end of a day.

—

Nodding in understanding as Samir insisted that he was fine, Monty figured he’d let it drop. For now, at least. But if the man came back looking for more work and with an even rougher appearance than he had now, there would be more questions, born purely of concern. “They are,” Monty said gently, offering a small smile of his own. “One of them has had many years to acclimate himself, the other… well. He is new to it. Learning. Accepting. It is a slow process.”

“Ah, thank you! I am sure you will get to know them quite well, if you decide to come back,” Monty chuckled, leading the man up to the main house where a tall, dark-haired woman was standing on the porch, looking over a clipboard. Monty and Samir approached the steps and she looked up, flashing them both a bright grin.

And, just like Monty, she distinctly lacked a heartbeat.

“Howdy there, friend!” she greeted Samir in a friendly, thick Southern accent, adjusting the hat on her brow before reaching out a hand to shake. “Name’s Daisy, but you can call me Dais if you’re feelin’ so inclined! Now, I hear you’re here for some work, huh? Just so happens, I got a nice long list of things I need done today while I go see a man about some sheep.” Monty smirked, giving Samir a look that said didn’t I tell you? before accepting the folded up piece of paper that Daisy pulled from her pocket.

“Now, just get done what you can, and don’t forget to take your breaks! Monty here can show you the ropes, and make sure he doesn’t forget to write down your hours, okay? Gotta make sure ya’ll get paid.” She beamed. “Sound good?”

—

Acclimation, what did that look like? Samir had to wonder. Had he become an acclimated werewolf over the past years? It hardly felt like it — he only managed to cope now through ignorance and violence. Monetizing his monstrosity. It worked, in a sense, but it wasn’t honorable, nor pretty. “It is a slow process,” he said, “One I’m not sure ever ends. I hope he has good people to help him?” He definitely couldn’t offer his services on that front. Half a decade of transformations hadn’t made him any better at it.

He gave a nod and a smile at that statement, letting his heightened senses adjust to the pace of this place. All the animalistic scents, that earthy musk. The heartbeats that differed per animal. The lack of a human pace besides his own — but Samir chalked that up to fatigue, for now.

Lips spread in a polite smile at the sight of Daisy. “Hi Daisy.” There was a gesture to himself. “Samir. Good to hear. Don’t like any empty days, myself. Best to keep busy.” The list was handed from one farmer to another, and he nodded at Monty, wondering about the relative quiet in the air between the three of them. There were people like that at the Pit sometimes, but he never stayed around long enough to really question it. He shook off the thoughts for now. “Sure, all sounds good. Just give a shout if there’s anything I gotta know.”

He turned to Monty, eyeing the list. “Alright. What’s on our to do list first?”

—

“He does, I think. I am doing what I can for him, but of course I’m not… like him, so my perspective is not especially helpful. My friends, though, they are trying to help support, yes.” The conversation about the mystery friend died down as they approached Daisy, and once their list of tasks was given, Monty took a moment to read it over before giving Samir a nod.

“Well, there are the daily things, firstly… the sheep need lunch.” There were other hands tending to the cows and goats and horses, but it was their task to make sure the herd of curly-haired sweethearts had their afternoon meal. “We’ve got roughage and hay for them in storage—come, I’ll show you.”

The afternoon continued without a hitch, the pair fixing several stretches of fencing together after feeding the sheep. After that, it was bathtime for a few of the horses, and Jicama needed to be re-shod. They were of course surrounded by other farm hands doing other farm hand tasks, and if Samir chose to pay particular attention to any of it, he’d find that not a single one of them carried a heartbeat. The only living things on this farm were the animals.

“Say, you must be getting hungry,” Monty remarked as he rolled up his farrier’s tools, setting them back on their shelf and unhooking Jicama’s lead to take her back out to pasture. He motioned for Samir to follow, flashing him a small grin as they fell into step beside one another. “If you are, I’m sure we can throw something together, unless you’d rather eat at home. But… I think we have gotten through the better part of Daisy’s list!” Just in time, too, because the sun was starting to sink very close to the horizon.

—

Those wondering thoughts he’d tried to shake off before – about the silence, the lack of human heartbeats – returned to Samir throughout the day. The sheep’s hearts were busy things, pumping around blood through those fuzzy bodies of theirs, and the horses were steadier, but present all the same. It made sense, maybe. Why else would the farmer have known of his affliction? Perhaps he had something going on himself.

Samir did his work, though, without complaining. When his aching body shot a dagger of pain through him, he winced — but never long enough to draw attention, moving through the pains as if it was his own kind of penance. There was ample distraction. Working with ones hands had always been his preference, anyway.

To ask your newfound employer pressing questions seemed like a bad idea anyway, especially in this town. Samir chose relative ignorance and took what he saw and heard at face value and with that, came to the conclusion that Monty was, if anything, a kind man. He gave a grunt in response, followed it with a, “Yeah,” as he caught up to the farmer and his horse.

“Sure thing. Am not a bad cook myself, but if you want to, you can just keep whatever we use from my pay.” Grit Pit rules. Samir missed the family meals at former workplaces. “And hey, good to know. If there’s more stuff to be done tomorrow, though…” He shrugged, leaving the suggestion hanging in the air. He looked at the horse and her steady heartbeat as she moved back into the pasture. “They’ve got it good here, the animals.” He thought of the creatures in cages at his actual job. How his wolf-side would have devoured all those sheep rather than fed them. He blinked, looked back at Monty, “Can I ask you something?” He’d rather have it out, if he were to return.

—

Monty threw him a confused look, cocking his head to the side. “What? Oh, no... do not worry about that, mi amigo. The food is on us,” the cowboy assured him, waving away the idea of having Samir pay for it. “If you wish to cook, though, by all means! I am certainly not an expert when it comes to food,” Monty laughed. “Daisy will be able to help you more than I can.” The human food was all for guests anyway, it wasn't like anyone on the farm had a need for it. But they still kept it stocked, just in case. And now, judging by the man's offer to come back again the next day, they might finally have someone to regularly enjoy it. “Tomorrow? Well sure! There is always more to be done, and we will always happily accept help.” He smiled brightly at Samir. “You are welcome to come by for work any time!”

Gaze fixed on Jicama as she trotted back into the pasture, hands deftly locking the gate after her, Monty hummed. “Thank you,” he glanced back at Samir, giving a small shrug. “We do all we can to make sure they're well taken care of.” And then, there was a question.

“Of course! What is it?”

—

He was kind, in an effortless way that made Samir feel jealous, which in turn made him dislike himself just a bit more. “Alright, alright, if you’re sure. I’ll lend a hand, then,” he said, conceding. He’d bring something along as a thanks, then, next time. As the other ensured him that he could come back any time for work, he felt himself grow a little more slack with relief. He’d like to come back, he thought. Maybe not forever, but at least for a few days the coming week. It was a good distraction. Even if his body ached from the work and the fights. “Alright. I’ll be here same time tomorrow, then. Thanks.” He frowned, but decided not to linger too long on that slip-up.

The other was thanking him too, after all. If that meant anything. “It shows.” He gave a small smile in return, and then struggled to get to his question. The other had been forward about his own nature, had pointed out his lycanthropy easily and without much hesitation — so wasn’t he in a position to return the favor?

“I’ve noticed …” He swallowed. “Well, that your heart doesn’t beat. I’m — I’ve encountered it before, I know it’s something that exists.” Samir frowned, his shortcomings self-made. He didn’t ask questions at the Grit Pit, but Monty seemed like a better person to ask things of. “The animals, they all have heartbeats, but the people don’t. I guess my question is — how?” Though what the fuck? would also be fitting.

—

The gentle, easy smile that always seemed to be present on Monty’s face turned into something a little more pointed, corners of his eyes crinkling as he let out a breathy laugh. “Ah. I was wondering when you’d bring it up. All my werewolf friends eventually do.” Pleased to have it more out in the open now, the cowboy gave a quick glance around them—not to see if they were alone, but just as a way of generally taking in the space fondly.

“We’re all dead—the hands and I. All… zombies.” The word still felt silly to say, but he wasn’t aware of a better alternative. Gesturing toward the cattle, goat, and sheep pastures in turn, he gave a nod. “That’s our main food source here. The goal of this place is not really selling dairy, though that is a happy byproduct of the work we do, but… it is more about keeping us fed.” He glanced back at Samir, brows furrowing. “Obviously the media has gotten many things about zombies, ah… what’s the word… miscon… misconstrued? But there is one fact they all seem to agree on, and that’s the brains of it all.” He shrugged. “Human, unfortunately, is the most nutritious we can get our hands on. But I’m doing my best to support these undead so they do not have to rely on that, to help keep them—and the people of this town—a little safer.” He clasped his hands, wringing them together for a moment before continuing. “I understand if this makes you feel wary about returning. No hard feelings. It is a shocking thing to realize.”

—

Zombies. It was almost laughable, but Samir had long ago lost the ability to see the humor in things. Even as his mind flashed to the video games he’d played and movies he’d watched with zombies, he understood Monty’s point not to go off them for reference. Eyebrows furrowed, staring at the dead man walking across from him, wondering what to make of it all. There was some trepidation, a natural response, but he knew above all that there was no space for him to judge. The wolf inside had chewed off limbs and devoured other bits of humans. Who was he to now grow distasteful of people who had to do the same to survive? Besides, Monty said they ate mostly animals. “Alright.” He shook his head at the offer that he’d might not want to return. “No, it’s — I understand, in a sense. Or at least, am not in any position to judge. It’s a good thing, I guess, what you’re doing. Keeping ‘em fed.” He supposed there was something about control in play there, which he related to more than he might like to admit. “We all have to find our ways of dealing with these things, right?” He, with his position at the Grit Pit. Monty, with the thing he had going on here. “But I appreciate you sharing. Best to have it all out in the open, huh?” Samir shrugged, clasped his hands together. “Dinner?”

#monty.#threads.#lend you a hand.#i love monty sfm :pleading:

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ser-rctslcyer · 2 years

Text

And To Be Loved || Rydal Keener

Pairing: Rydal Keener x Gender-neutral! Reader

Word Count: 3.0k+

Synopsis: You want nothing more than to invite your best friend on vacation with you but it seems he needs a little encouragement– and maybe something more.

Warnings: Fluff, Romance, Banter, Love Confessions

A/N: some fluff for my dear @mccnknightstcrdst @einno-arko because we deserve nice things!

Translations: ανόητος - silly | Γαμημένη κόλαση - fucking hell | Αγάπη - Love |Σε αγαπώ - I love you

A cool breeze blows by, softening the hot gaze of the sun. The shade from the tree keeps the two of you cool enough as you sit on the bench. The two of you are finally off for the day, tours finished early as tourists had other places to be– mostly the bar. Rydal’s eyes are glued to the page, his pen scratching the paper as the words flow out of him like a running stream. You don’t want to be nosy, but you steal sparing glances, catching only parts of phrases and trying not to piece together what it all meant; admiring how beautifully neat his handwriting is. He had read some of his poems to you and you had treasured every single one. His talent, his passion for his art; he poured his soul into and you appreciated it. There are sometimes you wished you could have the tiniest bit of his talents just to tell him how you felt– but for now, baby steps.

Starting with a simple question.

You nudge him lightly, not enough to make his pen jump across the paper but enough to drag a bit of his focus out of writing. Or so you thought, yet he stayed quiet; head still down and eyes fixed as he filled the page. You did it again– pressing your elbow a little longer to his arms. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch his pen finally coming to a halt.

“I hope you know you are disturbing the process,” he chuckles; reading over his sentence, quietly mouthing the words.

“I sure hope I am.” you hum, delighted; kicking your feet back and forth. He shakes his head, sliding his pen into his shirt pocket, closing his notebook, and holding it against his stomach. He turns to you, giving you his signature sly smile— the one he uses on you the most when he’s about to be a little shit.

“Do you need something, ανόητος?” you glare at him, yet his smile still remains. He only calls you that when you’re being a “slight annoyance” (his words), and whilst he meant it affectionately, he teased you too often with it. You shoved him playfully again, shaking your head before you spoke again.

“Well, we’re not going to be receiving as many tourists soon, which perfectly arrives around that time for a vacation.”

“Oh, so you’re going back home?”

“What? No, no, no,” you quickly got up off the bench, moving to stand in front of him, “I was going to ask if you wanted to go on vacation with me!” you opened your arms out, basically inviting him to say yes.

“A vacation where?” his head cocked, slightly to the side, a small wave of anguish running through you; he was always so technical.

“I don’t know, yet but depending on your answer I’m sure we can figure it out.”

“Are you sure?” he inquires, a look of pure concern bleeding through his eyes; different from the looks he gives when your about to do something stupid.

“Yeah, why?”

“Because you’ve been away from your family quite a while; won’t they miss you if you don’t take the chance to see them?” he pries, an unusual sadness in his tone.

“Probably, but they’d be more disappointed if I missed the bigger holidays and some birthdays.” you shrug, trying to not sound desperate. Your family could wait truthfully, so long as you gave them a call at some point.

All you wanted was to take him on this trip– just you and him

“I guess that’s fair– what are they celebrating in the states right now anyway?”

“It’s October,” you answered, and Rydal still had the puzzled look on his face; the gears in his head still turning, “Halloween, remember?”

“Ah, I forgot.”

“Been in Greece too long, my dear rhapsodist; you’re forgetting your roots,” his smile twitches; exhaling harshly like he’d just been hit in the gut. He knows it’s unintentional, he knows that you’re unaware– but the looming thought of family shreds through him like an eagle catching its prey.

“And here I thought you didn’t know words that big.” he jests, shifting in his seat as he tried to peel away the awful feeling.

“Ouch, low blow man,” you stepped back clutching your heart, “not all of us can be master lyricists.”

“I don’t make songs,” he snorted, running his fingers through his hair.

“Oh but you do! Songs of pure devotion and sonnets of passion,” you serenade, raising your hand up in an elegant motion.

“Now who’s being rude now?”

“It’s not rude, it’s true! Tourist fawn over your flowery sultry syllables about Oedipus and his dear ol’ hot mom.”

“Γαμημένη κόλαση,” he drags his palms down his face, trying to repress the grin that starts to cling to his lips, “please never say that again.”

“But it’s true– the women practically were wanting to be your hot mom,” you tack on, a loud groan leaves his lips.

“Shut up.”

“I was explaining my point.”

“Back to your suggestion, where could we even go?”

“We could do Itay, Spain,” you pause for a moment, “perhaps France and visit The City of Love,” you shimmy suggestively which brings out a chuckle from him.

“Yeah, but how would we pay for that? We don’t make that much to be staying anywhere for too long.”

“Well, my dear, depending on where we choose, we can just take buses; but also I do have a good bit of reserve cash left, so all I have to do is exchange it and the fun is ours.” you bow dramatically, but there was no laugh that followed.

“I wouldn’t want you to spend everything just to invite me on your trip,” he admits solemnly; his words, yet sincere, shred your heart. You stand upright, brows furrowed as your eyes meet his again; the playfulness already long forgotten.

“You make it sound like your bad company to have around?” you questioned, watching the subtle emotions flutter through his eyes and lips.

“I just don’t think it’s worth wasting money on me,” he answered softly, eyes falling down to his feet. A sickly cool breeze blew by, while your heart ached as you stared at him. He was always pretty candid about not accepting much from you; even gifts you had to convince him, he was allowed to take it.

“Wasting mon– alright, that’s it, mister.” you stomp your foot, stepping up to Rydal and extending your hand out.

“What?”

“We’re going on a walk and you're going to be mostly silent as I explain something very important to you.”

“Okay.” his hand clasps yours and with a little tug, he pushes himself up off the bench.

“Where exactly are we walking to?”

“I told you, you’re listening right now.” you wiggle your other finger in front of him, before starting off away from the benches.

The sun was thankfully going down and so Greece was finally settling. He tried to keep his eyes on the things around you and yet they kept dipping back down to your hand holding his. You’ve held his hands' plenty of times over the last year and yet this one, this one makes his heart sing. His mind drifts to how perfect your palm fit against his, how the warmth between them feels almost like a soothing hug– how you clasp his hand tight enough, it feels like a promise.

He feels like a little kid again, freaking out over his crush showing him any bit of attention.

You walk toward the edge of the town, ending up on a beaten dirt road right before the coast. The water glimmers in bright yellows, deep oranges, and muddled reds as the sun takes its seat above the sea. He walks beside you, his hand tugged closer to your thigh as he stares ahead, lost in his own panicked thoughts.

“You know,” you begin softly, nudging him lightly with your shoulder, “for as much as I tease you, you’re not just my hot coworker, right?”

“Thanks?” he assumes, his confusion evident in just his tone alone. Your giggle calms him for a moment, as you come to a halt and he follows.

“Relax hon, I promise this isn’t anything truly serious,” he mourns the loss of your hand as you squeeze his shoulder. He nods his head curtly, trying to keep your gaze, the one he’s familiar with.

“I just want you to know, you mean a lot, okay? You were my first friend when I got here and I could never be more grateful for that,” his chest flutters, heart shaking as he digests your words. This was the first time, in a long dreadful time, someone had ever said something truly sincere to him– and he believed it.

“So when I want to indulge a little, especially on you; it’s not a bother! I am more than happy to spend extra so we can go fuck around The Colosseum,” your addition brings a laugh out of him, his first full one all day. He knows you’re still inviting him, he knows you’re being more than genuine when you say you’d spend extra for him, he knows it comes from an honest place of care– and it’s overwhelming.

“Well, one thing I know for sure is you’d be a terrifying gladiator.” he chimes in on your joke, earning a light ‘tsk’ from you.

“I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.”

“You should, your strength would be celebrated and favored amongst the people and especially the emperors,” he hummed, enjoying the grin that graced your lips.

“Oh, they would love my crazy.”

“Unless it was Commodus– then he might’ve jumped in and beat you to death,” another laugh leaves him as you put on your most exaggerated shocked face.

“Well shit, it’s a lose-lose either way then? He kills me or I kill him and get killed for treason.”

“A tough life, fit for only the best of the best.”

“Glad, you think I’m so cool then,” you bump your head against your shoulder, letting it rest there as the two of you watched and listened to the soft crashes of the waves. Your hand finds its way back to his, interlocking your pinkies and he wishes this moment could last forever– but at last, dreams are only meant for the sleeping.

“Thank you though, I just didn’t want to be a burden on you,” he answers, tilting his head down to look at you; greeted by the sight of your beautiful eyes.

“Hon, you could never be. You’re my friend, and if anything I am more than happy to do things for you– to help you. Truly, meeting you and getting to know you have been one of the best experiences of my life; I’m so happy I met you, Rydal.” you confessed and he tenses. Never in his life did he think such words would be directed at him. A life alone is what he believe he deserved, that loneliness he let burn into his heart– and now it all fell apart.

“Why are you crying, hon?” your voice is soft as you turn towards him, chest to chest; your hands gently caressing your face.

“Because you’re too nice to me,” he sniffled, a small whine leaving him as you brushed the tears away with your thumbs. He clutches his notebook tighter, his other hand pressed against his pant leg; fingers digging into the fabric. Feeling nothing more like that little kid who failed again; it’s embarrassing to him.

“As if you don’t deserve it, you’ve been nothing but kind to me since too; let me give it back for a change.” you squeeze his face gently; a small smile tugging on his lips.

“Okay,” he nods; you pull him into you, squeezing him into a reassuring hug. He lets himself finally relax, all of his wound-up emotions leaving him in one breath. He closes his eyes, taking in the salty air as he tucks his face into your neck.

“Better?”

“Better.” he answers and you smile, taking his hand again before you turn to start off down the path again.

“Actually, there’s something I want to tell you,” he stops again, your hands jerking a small bit as you came to a halt, “or well I think I need to,” his voice grows quiet and you stand in front of him again; still holding his hand.

“Yeah?”

“It might ruin things,” he warns, so unsure of what outcome he might get but he swallows down his fears.

“I doubt.”

“Αγάπη, it isn’t some joke,” he stresses, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“And I’m not joking,” you squeeze his hand, “I doubt it’ll ruin anything.”

“Are you sure?” the uncertainty is there again and you remain firm.

“I promise,” and with those two words, he proceeds. He lets go of your hand and opens up his notebook, flipping through a chunk of full pages till he found the one he was looking for. He scanned over the words before looking back at you, taking in a deep breath.

“This might not be as eloquent as I usually am, but for some reason, the words tend to evade me when it’s you.” he glances back at the page, lips quivering the longer he stared at the dark scribbles. So much thought, so many emotions, here across these pages he spent hours obsessing over; trying to get right and yet it doesn’t feel enough– it doesn’t feel like him. His eyes close as he shuts his notebook again and when he looks back at you, he lets the feeling he’s let stew for the last two years, flow-through, “Σε αγαπώ.”

“Σε αγαπώ and there are not enough words, in any language, for me to properly tell you the feeling that burns beneath my heart for you. I know for a poet, that sounds awfully pathetic but everything just seems to blur, and my emotions– wound so deep, everything breaths in just one rhythm– you. I know this is sudden, I know it's awkward, I know you might not feel the same but I need you to know–” he catches his breath, feeling the tears prick his eyes again but he ignores them for the ones shining in your own.

“I need you to know, I love you.” he admits, the weight that had been holding down his chest evaporated as your lips, find their resting place– right against his own. The kiss is sweeter than any chocolate he’s ever tasted and softer than any of the round puffy white clouds in the sky. One of your hands find his jaw, as the other rests over his chest; etching small circles into his heart. His notebook rest against your lower back while he holds the back of your neck. This moment already starts sinking into memory, the gentle sound of an ocean full of you.

“I love you too,” you rasps softly, pecking his lips again, “I love you and if I was half as good with words as you, I’d tell you a million times over in just one simple sentence.”

“Now who’s being a lyricist.” he grins, kissing the corners of your lips.

“I’d write thousands and thousands of songs if it meant kissing you like that again.” you hum cheerfully, brushing your nose against his as you nip his bottom lip.

“Perhaps you should get on it.” he huskily whispers, only to be met with a small surprised chuckle. He raised his eyebrow at you curiously, struggling to contain yourself when it all finally made sense.

“I’m sorry, I–” you try to excuse but it’s too late, and you laugh hysterically into his chest. He tries to keep his own composure but the joy is contagious and he ends up laughing just as hard. It’s dark now and nothing but your amusement echoes.

“It was such a nice moment.” he sighs, trying to catch his breath after a moment.

“You have to watch your words, my little poet,” the pet name makes his heart soar and his legs feel wobbly, “I have no self-control.” you chuckle one last time before sealing your lips over his. The kiss is almost about the same, passionate and hungry but neither of you drive to speed through the moment.

“I’m very thankful for that.” he pants, pressing his forehead against yours as the two of you sway gently.

“I saw you look at your notebook– did you write that down all for this moment?”

“I was going for a flowery romantic confession, truthfully. I tried to write it out, but most of the words never came, so I improvised some lines,” he smiled, looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes.

“I’m glad you did, sweetheart,” you congratulate with another sweet kiss, “you’ve done the one thing that makes poets, great.”

“And what’s that?”

“Spoke from your heart,” you muse, the compliment brings forth another rise out of him; he kisses you again.

“So, when can I take you out on a date?” he murmurs against your lips.

“If you do one thing for me.”

“Which is?” you hook a finger under his chin, making sure he keeps his eyes on you.

“Pick a place and go on vacation with me.” you smile and he licks over his lips.

“Italy.”

“Are you still trying to get me to be your gladiator?” you tease, earning another bright beatuiful laugh out of him– something only you can do.

“You already are; the warrior of my heavy heart,” he confesses and you awe quietly.

“Ah, my little poet strikes again.”

“My place?” he inquires, as the two of you look up at the dark sky, littered with little white specs of starlight.

“Yes, there’s still a bunch I must do to mollify my emperor’s, heavy heart.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Then c’mon! There’s no time to waste!” your hand instantly finds his, and you take off. Rydal struggles to keep pace but once he does the two of you are giggling down the road and onto the next chapter of your lives; together at last.

#rct fic #rydal keener x reader #rydal keener x genderneutral! reafer #rydal keener x gn! reader

74 notes · View notes

misosick · 2 years

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dirty little secret - don't tell anyone | bang chan

pairing: bang chan x reader, ??? x reader genre: uni!au, predebut/idol!au, manager!reader, slow burn chapter warnings: the first sentence is technically smut, toxic relationships, swearing word count: 730ish

author notes: i'll be completely honest i have the first seven chapter written. this does not go the way you expect it to go besties. pls enjoy this short first chapter, i've made the first couple of chapters shorter to make it easier to read, and they're more about setting the scene for the rest of the story. enjoy regardless!

taglist: @idunnomanmynamewastaken (send me an ask if you want to be added!)

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

“Ah, fuck!” With a couple of sloppy thrusts, Chris fell to your side in a heap, immediately curling around your side. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, the two of you would hang out, one thing led to another, he was in your bed. You thought it was going to end as it did normally, with him helping you clean up before staying the night and cooking breakfast in the morning, until his phone started ringing in the other room. Chris chucked whatever clothes of his he could find on as quickly as possible before dashing to get it, lest it woke your flatmate. You could hear some muffled speech from the other room, and you thought you heard him say ‘I’m just at a friend’s place, what’s up?’ as if the last two hours hadn’t happened.

What were you two? It was easy enough to say friends with benefits, but there was more to it than that. Friends with benefits don’t stay the night, right? Or cook breakfast the next morning? Or have you saved as ‘beautiful’ with two hearts next to it? Your train of thought stopped on its tracks as Chris walked back in, phone in hand. He put it on its charging pad and climbed back into bed with you, pulling you into his chest.

“Sorry babe, Liam needed to borrow my mic.” And your train of thought is back on track.

“Chris, honestly, what are we?” You remove yourself from his grip, sitting up to face him. You pull the blanket forward to grant yourself some modesty; you can’t have Chris ogling your tits while you try to sort out your situationship.

“Y/N, not tonight. You already know the answer. We’re a secret. My friends don’t like you.” He huffs and tries to pull you back to him. You know his tricks, but you don’t fall for them this time. Blocking his arms, you cross your own.

“I already told you I don’t care about that! I have my own friends, just because yours’ think I’m not worth your time, doesn’t mean you do, right?” You look at him partially in disbelief, partially in curiosity. In all honesty, while you’ve made plenty of good friends on your exchange to Australia, it sucks that his friends don’t like you. A silence falls over the room. Chris drops his head in… shame?

“I… don’t think you are. I just wanted to have fun, you know, but you… you got attached. I’m not ready for a relationship right now, I mean, we’re still young right? We’ve got our whole lives in front of us, I don’t want to be held back by a relationship.” His face twists into shapes you’ve never seen before. He looks… ugly. Maybe that’s what saying ugly things does to someone. You feel heat spread across your face in anger and embarrassment. That’s all you are to him? Someone to ‘have fun’ with? You feel the tears well in your eyes, and Chris can see it.

“Y/N… I’m not doing this anymore. It’s not healthy. I’m going home.” Chris looks like he’s about to cry too, but his voice is certain. You can only assume he’s already thought about this, that he decided a while ago that it had to happen sooner rather than later. You stare blankly at him. You hear words but nothing registers. It’s not until he starts packing his things that it finally clicks.

“Seriously? Are you for real? Chris, what the fuck?! Have the last 5 months meant nothing to you?!? You’ve got some real fucking nerve, Chris, how the fuck did I not see this coming, huh? Fuck you, get the fuck out of my house.” He endures your shouting. Perhaps he deserves it, but it’s for the best, he thinks. You keep shouting at him while you dress yourself. He continues to pack his things – ALL his things, you make sure – all the way until he leaves your flat and drives off.

It’s only then you shed tears. A lot of tears. Almost on cue, and despite it being the middle of the Australian summer, it starts raining. You feel sorry for your flatmate who definitely heard everything, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You just lost one of the most important people in your life, and all you were to him was a dirty little secret.

#chris bang #skz #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids angst #skz fluff #skz angst #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #dirty little secret

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leleamo · 23 days

Text

a while later... everyone was in front of the city hall again (the Hero team, Help team, Swat kats + Foll and Michelle) gathered and ready to leave...

"yes.. you can bring the citizens back... our problem is over... and we will check the city in case something worse has happened..." Feral spoke to his soldiers on the radio, a little sad because of T-bone

T-bone was still crying a little, but Razor was still by his side, as was Callie.

"do you think he'll be okay...?" asked Letícia, next to Felina who were looking from afar "I hope so... well... I think it's time for you to leave, right...?" Felina said, still quite discouraged, "oh really! Wow, is there any paper there? I wanted to get your uncle's autograph!" Letícia's sentence made Felina laugh, and then blush when she also heard that Letícia wanted her autograph too

Manx and Garlie, on the other hand, talked quite 'intimately' as if they were long-time friends, well, at least the mayor made it seem like that

"I thank you for giving me so much confidence, Garlie!" he said, shaking her hand, while she blushed a lot, being thanked by the mayor, how cool

"ah mayor, it was totally your merit, you don't need to thank me! hehe.." oh the white owl suddenly turned red

Michelle, on the other hand, was preparing to send U-Bone, Blaze and Foll to his dimensions, or the future of their dimension, in the case of U-Bone and Blaze

"Wait a minute, Michelle!" said Foll as he ran to Feral, for a big hug "goodbye dad!"

"I am not your dad!" Feral said blushing, while Felina approached "technically, you are her dad, uncle, hehe"

"bye cousin! bye guys!" Foll gave Felina a hug, and ran to the portal, before giving U-Bone a hug, "give my future self a big hug for me, okay?" and with a big smile, she left

now, U-Bone and Blaze both run to give their dads a hug

"be careful, okay?" Razor said, while Blaze just smiled a lot "okay dad..." Blaze ran to the portal, just waiting for his partner

"dad..." U-Bone hugged him slowly, while T-bone didn't hug him too tightly, until the hug ended "good luck to you, little one, wherever you go..." the hug may not have been much strong, but T-bone's smile was more than genuine, so, U-Bone ran to the portal... and left...

"Well, our turn" Garlie and Letícia approached the rest of the kats

"ahh.. no one has a paper or a pen..." said Letícia, still wanting an autograph

"Letícia, you can ask for an autograph from Feral and Felina from our dimension."

"But I wanted autographs of the originals..."

"Ah, let's go Letícia!"

"bye!"

Garlie and Letícia waved as they entered the portal, and now only Michelle was missing.

"sorry for the mess I made"

"the only thing I hope is that you are arrested in your dimension, Michelle " Feral spoke angrily, this makes the Swat kats laugh a little

"I doubt it, bye bye~" and then, Michelle left...

and now, everything can go back to normal, in Mega Kat City...

some years later...

everything remained the same in Mega Kat City, the bandits arrived, the Swat Kats fought and won, Feral's bravery fell a little in question to the vigilantes, and T-bone slowly got over his violent act

and even Manx became a much more decent mayor, surprising everyone, except Callie, of course, she was more proud of him than surprised, hehe..

"but today the city will succumb... and not even the Swat kats could stop us! isn't it..."

From what appeared to be a hiding place, Dark Kat spoke to himself... until... a Kat, purple skin, black hair, with a blonde streak, ponytail, completely black and gold eyes, a navy blue coat covered her clothing, she had a brave and cute smile...

"daughter...?"

END...(?)

#swat kats #swat kats au #fankid #fanfic

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thelazyhermits · 1 year

Text

Welcome to Twisted Wonderland!

After falling down the Twst rabbit hole and dealing with Twst brainrot for the last few months, I finally decided to give writing for this fandom a try. I’m not the most confident, but hopefully, what I wrote is not too bad lol

I made this a Reader Insert since that’s what I’m used to writing, but it’s written with my Yuu OC in mind. She’s from the BNHA world which is why Quirks, which are basically super powers, are mentioned. You don’t really need to be familiar with BNHA to understand this.

Also, while my Yuu is female, her pronouns aren’t ever mentioned here, so the Reader is technically GN.

Where am I?

When you open your eyes, you find yourself standing in a dark room, facing a large mirror that has many coffins hovering ominously around it.

You’re immediately on your guard once you realize you have no recognition of the room you’ve found yourself in, especially since you can’t even remember how you ended up here in the first place.

Your mind frantically races as you try to think back to the last thing you remember. I remember winning the cage fight that was scheduled for tonight, but after that, my memory gets hazy. Did someone use their Quirk on me and kidnap me?

But that doesn’t make sense. Who would dare lay a hand on you and risk incurring your manager’s wrath? Everyone in the underworld knows how well connected Mumei is, which is why they avoid doing anything to get on his bad side.

A sudden chill runs down your spine. Unless this kidnapper is even more well off than Mumei. Could it be that someone has a grudge against him and is going after me because I’m his largest source of income?

That’s the only explanation that makes sense. After all, why else would someone go after the likes of you?

As your heart rate drastically increases, you frantically start looking around in hopes of finding an exit. For some reason, you haven’t been tied up, so you need to make the best use of this freedom to escape whatever your captor has planned for you.

Unfortunately, despite all your efforts, you’re unable to find any doors or windows, which only increases your unease. Just what kind of place have you been brought to?

It’s at that moment the mirror before you suddenly lights up as green fire appears in its reflection. “Ah…My dear beloved.”

With a gasp, you quickly try to find the owner of the unfamiliar voice you just heard, only for your search to come up empty. There must be some kind of intercom system in this room. That would explain why I can’t identify where exactly the voice came from.

Your hands clench into tight fists. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”

As if not hearing your questions, the strangely jovial voice continues, “A lovely and noble flower of evil. Truly, you are the most beautiful of all.”

Could it be that the intercom system only allows your captor to speak into the room? They can’t hear you? Or are you just being ignored?

You can’t decide if you should feel annoyed about the prospect of being ignored or creeped out by what your kidnapper is saying. Am I actually dealing with some kind of stalker rather than an enemy of Mumei’s?

If so, you might be in even more trouble than you originally feared since a stalker can be extremely dangerous, especially one that sounds as delusional as this one.

You scrunch your nose. “Noble flower of evil? What the hell does that even mean?”

Once again, your question goes unanswered. “Mirror, mirror on the wall, please tell me. Who is the…?”

For some reason, the voice cuts off before that last sentence can be finished. You patiently wait for the speaker to pick up where they left off, but they never do.

As silence permeates the air, you raise an eyebrow. Ooookay. Sounds like I’m dealing with a real weirdo here.

A sigh escapes you as you tiredly drag a hand down your face. Great, just great. Just what I needed.

Your weary gaze focuses on the mirror, which is still glowing an ominous green. Soon after, recognition dawns your features. Wait a minute. I’ve seen that mirror somewhere else before, but where?

After racking your brain for a moment, you remember what your captor last said, and your eyes widen. Mirror, mirror on the wall…That's from the movie, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. That’s where I’ve seen this mirror!

Which means my stalker-slash-kidnapper must have an obsession with that movie for some reason. They were talking about beauty earlier, much like the queen does in that movie. You think to yourself. I just have no idea how this all applies to me. After all, I am no Snow White. If this creep is looking for a pretty princess, he went after the wrong person.

Just as you’re considering saying as much out loud to see if that would garner a response from your kidnapper, you suddenly hear what sounds like a horse approaching with a carriage.

Bewildered, you once again examine your surroundings, and of course, find nothing that would explain where the sounds came from. The only explanation you can think of is that the sounds came from the intercom system, which you have yet to find.

Filled with unease, you swallow nervously. This stalker is getting weirder and creepier by the second. I seriously need to get out of here.

Since the only part of the room you haven’t checked out is what’s behind the mirror and floating coffins, you decide that’s where you should head, even though going near those eerie coffins is the last thing you want to do.

Right after you start slowly moving forward, the unfamiliar voice from before finally breaks its silence. “Those who are guided by the dark mirror, as long as your heart desires, take the hand that appears in the mirror.”

Wide-eyed, all you can do is gape as a literal hand appears amongst the green flames in the mirror’s reflection and proceeds to extend outwards until it completely protrudes through the glass.

With a yelp, you scuttle backwards. “What the hell?! What kinda Quirk is this?!”

A Quirk has to be behind this. After all, hands can’t just magically appear through mirrors.

It’s either that, or this is all just a very creepy dream. There’s no other plausible explanation.

When the possibility of this being a dream crosses your mind, you find yourself wondering if that is what’s going on here since that would explain how you suddenly found yourself here and why you can’t remember the events leading up to your arrival in this strange place.

Quickly, you pinch yourself as hard as you can and promptly wince. Either this is a very realistic dream, or I really am awake.

After trying a few more times to wake yourself up and failing, you sigh. Guess I’ll just return to my plan of escaping this room and hope I’ll either wake up soon or find a way out.

The only thing you do know for sure is that you will not be going near that hand in the mirror. There’s no telling what would happen if you do, and you have no interest in finding out.

That said, you unfortunately have no choice but to head in the general direction of the mirror since that’s the only part of the room you haven’t examined.

Warily, you slowly start walking forward, making sure to keep your eyes on the mirror at all times, just in case any other developments happen with it. You also keep an ear out for any suspicious sounds, not wanting to risk someone sneaking up on you while you’re distracted.

For some reason, your kidnapper hasn’t said anything since instructing you to take the hand that appeared in the mirror. As a result, the room has gotten very quiet, so quiet that the only things you can hear are your footsteps against the dark marble floor and your breathing.

You fight the urge to shiver. This place is so creepy. Why are there coffins just floating around? And what is up with that crazy mirror?

From what you can recall, the mirror from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs didn’t do anything like this. All you remember it ever doing was talking to the Evil Queen via the green face that would appear behind the glass.

What’s really eerie about this situation is how the hand in the mirror hasn’t moved since emerging from behind the glass. It just continues to remain perfectly still, like it’s a part of a statue.

If you hadn’t seen it move earlier, you would’ve thought it was a fake arm since there’s nothing about its appearance that suggests it belongs to a living being.

Doing your best to ignore the creepy arm, you move past the mirror, so you can examine what’s in the area of the room located behind it.

Regrettably, no matter how thoroughly you search, you fail to find any kind of exit. There really is nothing in this room aside from the mirror and the coffins.

Your brow furrows. But that’s impossible. There’s no such thing as a room without some kind of entrance and exit. Otherwise, there’s no way to explain how I got here.

Sure, a teleportation Quirk could’ve been used on you, but that would mean someone used their Quirk to put these coffins and mirror in this room, which makes absolutely no sense.

When the mirror returns to the forefront of your thoughts, a theory comes to mind. What if that mirror is the only way to get in and out of this room? I just witnessed that hand come through it, so it obviously can be used to bring things into this place. And that hand came out expecting me to take it, which makes me assume it intends to take me somewhere else.

Of course, that begs the question of why you were even brought to this room in the first place if your captor wants you to go elsewhere. Did they just want to toy with you first, or is there another reason for why you were brought here?

You frown. Does this mean I really have no choice in the matter? It’s either I stay here trapped forever, or I go wherever that hand will take me?

Neither of those options are the least bit appealing to you, but unfortunately, it doesn’t look like you have much say in the matter.

Honestly, you really shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like you ever have a say in anything anyway. Why should this situation be any different from everything else that goes on in your life?

With a scowl, you reluctantly move back toward the mirror and come to a stop in front of it, making sure to put some distance between you and the still extended hand, which looks as lifeless as ever.

Just as you open your mouth, intending to chew out the bastard who put you in this horrible position, you hear a voice coming from the mirror, a voice that’s completely different from the one you heard earlier.

“There you are, Yuu. I’ve been waiting for you. What kept you so long? You know how I feel about tardiness. Don’t tell me you found yourself caught up in trouble again thanks to those card soldiers of mine, not after I had just warned them that it’d be off with their heads the next time they caused another disturbance.”

Your earlier anger immediately vanishes due to the confusion those strange words evoke. “Huh? Card soldiers? What are you-?”

Before you can finish that question, another unexpected voice addresses you. “You’ve got a lot of nerve keeping me waiting, Herbivore. Just because you’ve become comfortable in the lion’s den doesn’t mean you can just do as you please. Don’t get cocky.”

All you can do is stare, your confusion steadily growing. “Herbivore? Lion’s den?”

“My, my, Yuu-san, it seems you’ve once again found yourself in a predicament. Shall I lend you my services? Since you’re such a valuable employee, I’ll even offer you a discount.”

When another voice joins the fray, you take a nervous step backwards. There are multiple people involved in this kidnapping?

Your face pales. Don’t tell me all these strange people are a part of some crazy cult. That’s even worse than a stalker!

While it might seem like a bit of a stretch to go from delusional stalker to crazy cult, you can’t deny that it’s a possibility. After all, that would explain all the oddities of this room and all the weird statements you’ve been hearing since waking up.

Thankfully, before your wild imagination can get the better of you, you get distracted by another voice.

“Yuu? Are you alright? If you’re feeling down, you should come over to Scarabia! I’ll throw a big party for you! That should cheer you right up!”

This new voice sounds completely different from the others. It’s so friendly and warm, so unlike the voices you’re used to hearing at home.

While you’ve dealt with people who pretended to be nice, who used a cloyingly sweet tone in order to get what they wanted, before, you know that’s not the kind of person you’re dealing with right now.

No, this person’s voice is completely genuine. You can tell just from listening to them that this is not the kind of person who’s capable of deceit.

They remind you a lot of All Might, the pro hero whom you admire more than anyone, and for that reason, you find yourself unconsciously relaxing. This isn’t the kind of person who hurts others. Either they’re someone who has been brainwashed into helping people they wouldn’t otherwise associate with, or…

Or there’s more going on with this strange group of people than you first thought.

You take a deep breath and slowly release it. I need to keep my cool. Getting worked up by all this craziness will only hurt me. I need to keep my wits about me if I hope to figure out what the hell is going on.

“That’s a good potato. If you stress yourself out unnecessarily, you’ll only give yourself wrinkles, and we can’t have that, can we? I won’t allow you to ruin all my efforts to bring out that potential of yours.”

You raise an eyebrow when you hear how this new voice addressed you. “Potato? What kind of nickname is that? If it wasn’t for the rest of what you just said, I’d think you were insulting me.”

It’s at that moment you realize something very important, something you can’t believe you took this long to notice. Hey, wait a minute. Most of the people that just spoke referred to me by my actual name. How the hell did they know my name was Yuu? No one knows that except for Tokumei and Mumei.

Normally, people always call you by your stage name “Prophet”, your manager included. The only one who refers to you as Yuu is Tokumei who was the person who gave you that name once you came to live with him and his twin brother, Mumei, since he thought it was impractical for a child to not have an actual name.

For all these years, Tokumei has been the only one to call you by that name, yet here are these total strangers using your name so casually, acting as if they’ve known it forever.

What in the world is going on here?

“Y-Yuu-shi, can we go already? You know how much I hate leaving my room. My HP is almost at zero; I don’t know how much longer I can last.”

Despite yourself, you can’t help but feel amused when you hear this new voice since there’s a slight whine to their tone. Whoever this person is, they are obviously not enjoying themselves right now and want to get back to their room as soon as possible.

That definitely doesn’t sound like a crazy cultist. It sounds like a teenager who has had enough of whatever they’ve been dragged into, and you can sympathize with that sentiment wholeheartedly.

The remaining tension in your frame begins to fade. Now that I think about it, none of these voices have sounded the least bit threatening. I don’t know if I’d use the word friendly for all of them, but they definitely don’t sound like dangerous kidnappers.

Not to mention, you don’t think you’ve heard a single lie out of any of them. It’s a little surreal for you, considering you’re used to dealing with people who lie as easily as they breathe on an almost daily basis.

While you wouldn’t be so reckless as to write all of them off as being non-dangerous, you can’t help but wonder if these people are actually completely different from the people you first assumed them to be.

“Child of Man, you need not worry. I will not allow anyone to harm you. As long as you are under my protection, you will be safe.”

It’s the latest addition to this strange vocal cast that has your breath hitching. “Y-You…”

The rational part of your brain tries to convince you that it’s an empty promise, just pretty words to get you to let your guard down, but even though you are normally quick to listen to that rationality, you find yourself hesitating this time.

Because that person wasn’t lying.

Whoever that speaker was, they truly meant it when they said they’d protect you - that you’re safe with them.

There was nothing but warmth and assurance in that voice - two things that are very foreign to you because of the place where you’ve spent the last ten-plus years of your life.

Before you even realize it, you find yourself raising your hand toward that voice - toward the hand still outstretched before you.

However, after remembering how often you’ve been disappointed in the past, you find yourself hesitating. What if this is all just a cruel lie - a charade that you can’t see through?

What if this person really is just like everyone else?

“Yuu-chan, you’re too tense! Relax, relax! Let’s have some tea and unwind. I’ll find some cute cat pictures on Magicam for us to look at together! I know how much you love those!”

Another cheerful voice enters the fray, this one sounding just as energetic as the one that had first caught your attention.

Immediately, you find yourself wondering what Magicam is and how this person knows of your love of cats.

Before you can bring yourself to ask, a new, much calmer voice says, “If you need help unwinding, you can join me in the kitchen, Yuu. As per tradition, I’ll make sure you get the best bite as thanks for your help.”

And apparently, this person knows about your love of cooking. Just how much do these people know about you?

More importantly, just how many of them are there?

“Geez, ya really are a handful, aren’t ya, Yuu-kun? How about ya come with me to see if Sam-san’s got some work for us to do? That way I can keep an eye on ya, and I’ll get to enjoy the pay raise that Sam-san always offers on the days you’re working at his shop. Shishishi.”

While there’s a mischievous tone in this new voice, there’s no mistaking the underlying fondness that you hear, which just makes you even more confused. Just who is this person, and who in the world is Sam?

“Shrimpy, I’m bo~red! Let’s get outta here and do somethin’ fun! You don’t wanna be here anymore, right?”

“You do seem to be quite tired of your current circumstances, Yuu-san. Being the benevolent people that we are, my brother and I would be more than happy to do whatever we can to assist you. Let us help you find a much more interesting way to spend your time. Fufu.”

For some reason, a chill runs down your spine when you hear those two particular voices. While they don’t exactly inspire fear, there’s just something about them that puts you on your guard.

That said, you also can’t help but feel a little amused when you hear your newest nickname. “Shrimpy? Where are all these weird nicknames coming from?”

As expected, you don’t receive an answer to your question. Instead, someone else’s voice pipes up. “Yuu, it’s good to be cautious, but you don’t want to let this opportunity pass you by. Only a fool would give up the chance to obtain the freedom they’ve been seeking all their life. Don’t you agree?”

Your eyes grow large. “Freedom?”

By freedom, do they mean real freedom? As in you don’t have to return to your previous life and never again have to suffer at Mumei’s hands? You’ll be able to do whatever you want with your life without fear of punishment?

Surely, this is too good to be true. They’re just trying to whittle away at your defenses in order to finally make you give in and go along with whatever scheme they have planned for you once you take the hand that has been offered to you.

You bite your lip. But is anything really worse than what I already deal with? Even if they don’t give me the freedom that I want, they’re likely to still be better than Mumei. After all, I can’t imagine too many people actually being worse than him.

“Oh, my dear Trickster, it pains me to see you struggling so. You are in good company here, I assure you. We all truly want what’s best for you and wish to see you experiencing the kind of joy you deserve, because you are our beloved friend. No one wants to see a beauté like you hidden away in the shadows where no one can enjoy your brilliance.”

If it wasn’t for the genuine tone of this person’s voice, you’d think they were just trying to butter you up by using such flattery, but since you can detect no deceit, you have to accept that this person truly means every word that they say despite how hard it is for you to believe.

It’s steadily becoming more difficult to refuse the tempting offer before you.

“You truly are a fighter, Yuu. Even now, you have your guard up, and I cannot fault you for that. However, even the most highly seasoned warriors know when it’s time to reach out to those around them, and I hope that you too will learn to rely on others rather than continue fighting all of your battles on your own.”

“Yuu, you can rely on us. We’ll help you in any way we can, because you’re our friend and we care about you.”

Your legs grow weak at their words, causing you to fall to your knees. Tears cloud your vision as you brace yourself against the cold, marble floor. “I…I don’t understand. Why do you all care about me? Why does it matter to you what happens to me?”

For as long as you can remember, no one has ever shown such care toward you, so why are these people different?

While you’d like to rationalize this as them just putting up a caring front in order to earn your trust, you know that’s not the truth, because all of these people have been nothing but sincere. When they say they care about you, they genuinely mean it.

And you have no idea why.

For a while, you remain in that same position, trying to collect yourself and figure out what your next move should be. All the while, the mirror remains strangely silent, making you wonder if all the members of the group involved in your current predicament have finally said their piece.

You’re incredibly conflicted about this. On one hand, you don’t want to play into anyone’s hands, but on the other, could that really lead to circumstances that are any worse than what you already deal with on a daily basis?

This situation has “deal with the devil” written all over it, but considering the demons you’re used to facing, you can’t bring yourself to feel too scared. Surely, anything has to be better than the life you’ve been living for all these years.

….right?

“Grrrr…”

Your body stiffens when you hear a loud growl coming from behind you. With great trepidation, you turn to look over your shoulder and promptly blanche at the sight before you.

In the area that was once completely empty now stands a large, four-legged monster with black fur and a mane of blue fire. A chill runs down your spine when you look into its piercing blue eyes.

Without thinking, you unconsciously scuttle backwards across the floor, wanting to put as much distance between you and this creature as possible, not caring if this means you’ll consequently make contact with the mirror.

Strangely enough, your back never makes contact with anything despite your close proximity to the mirror. This prompts you to reluctantly pull your eyes away from the monster, so you can look behind you.

Much to your surprise, when your gaze eventually falls onto the mirror, you see that it’s now several yards away from you, on the other side of the large clearing you’ve somehow found yourself in.

Your mind races with questions as you try to make sense of what’s going on. First, this monster comes out of nowhere, and now, the room has turned into some kinda dilapidated clearing, as if this monster just blew out all the walls, but that doesn’t make any sense!

Nothing about this situation makes any sense unfortunately, and you don’t think you’ll be getting any answers anytime soon.

Realizing there are more important matters to worry about, you hurry to stand and start steadily backing away from the monster, hoping it won’t pursue you if you avoid moving too quickly.

All the while, you assess the threat before you. There is no way I can fight this thing. Even with my fighting experience and my Quirk, this isn’t an opponent I can handle. One swipe from its paws will be enough to do me in, so I can’t afford to let it get close to me.

Which means escape is the only option you have. The only question is: Will you be able to outrun this monster, or will all your efforts be futile?

You clench your trembling hands into fists. I will find a way to escape. I refuse to die a meaningless death here. I’ve survived this long, and I have no intention to let everything I’ve done up until this point to stay alive go to waste because of some crazy monster.

Now, you just need to figure out how to ensure that your escape will be successful. Should you try to tire out the monster first before making a run for it, making use of your great stamina, or would another strategy be better suited for this situation?

Before you can ruminate on this matter for too long, you get distracted when you hear a playful voice coming from the mirror.

“Hey, Yuu, don’t you think you’re thinking a little too hard about this? It’s pretty obvious what you need to do here. Don’t tell me you need me to spell it out for you.”

Your brow furrows. “What are you-?”

Before you can finish your sentence, you get cut off by two new voices.

“Yuu! You can rely on us! That’s what best friends are for! We’ll always have your back!”

“While it probably makes me sound like a hypocrite, I do think you try to do too much on your own, Yuu. Why don’t you follow the advice you’re always giving me and ask us for help for a change? Being a lone wolf doesn’t suit you.”

“Ask for help?” You incredulously whisper, “That’s…”

Completely foreign to you. When was the last time someone offered to help you because they genuinely wanted to? Without expecting something in return?

You’re drawn out of your thoughts when three new voices chime in.

“We know how strong you are, but you shouldn’t have to do everything on your own. I’d much rather have my friends rely on me when they need a hand, so don’t hold back, Yuu-san! You can count on me anytime!”

“You’re not alone, Yuu-san! Nii-san and I are on your side, just like everyone else, because we’re friends! And friends are always there to support each other through thick and thin, just like what the protagonists do in all of my brother’s favorite shows!”

“Hmph. As always, you’re causing trouble, human. Fortunately for you, I am feeling very generous today. That’s why I will graciously offer you my aid. Be grateful! As long as you have my protection, you have nothing to fear!”

For some reason, after listening to those six voices, the tension in your frame has completely disappeared. Why does your heart feel so at ease thanks to them?

While you can’t answer that question, you at least now have an answer to the question of how you can escape the monster, which has miraculously not started attacking you yet.

After taking a deep breath and releasing it, you turn around and promptly start sprinting toward the mirror, doing your best to ignore the loud roar you hear behind you.

Quickly, you activate your foresight Quirk and focus all of your power on predicting your opponent’s movements. This allows you to see that the monster is capable of firing blue fireballs from its mouth.

Blue fire starts appearing all around you thanks to the monster that’s now on the offensive, but thankfully, none of its attacks manage to hit you, because you’re able to foresee its attack pattern and dodge accordingly.

All the while, you determinedly keep running forward, straight toward the mirror. “I really don’t understand you guys! I don’t understand why you act so familiar with me or why you seem to actually care about me, but....”

Your heart pounds violently inside your chest, both out of fear of the monster and of what could happen to you if you take that hand that’s still extended toward you. “But I want to! I want to understand! So, please!”

You reach out to grab the hand in the mirror as soon as it’s within reach. “Please take me to wherever you are!”

Take you to a place where you can get a taste of what freedom is like - where you can be around people that actually give a damn about you

Take you to a place of safety that’s far away from the “home” you’ve been trapped in for as long as you can remember - to a place where your future is bright rather than bleak and hopeless.

Behind you, the monster releases another powerful roar, but you pay it no mind, too distracted by the warm hand you’re now holding that comes to life as soon as you make contact with it.

Before you can even so much as blink, the hand tugs you forward with an impressive strength, knocking you off balance and causing you to fall straight into the mirror.

Rather than hit the glass, you pass right through it and find yourself completely submerged in an endless sea of darkness.

For some reason, a strong wave of exhaustion immediately washes over you, and you find yourself unable to fight against the irresistable urge to close your eyes and fall asleep.

Just as you’re on the verge of losing consciousness, you hear all twenty-two of the voices that spoke to you from the other side of the mirror address you in complete sync.

“Welcome to Twisted Wonderland!”

#twisted wonderland #twst #fortune in twisted wonderland #twst x reader #I really wanted to give writing the twst prologue a try #but put my own spin on it #yuu doesn't remember what happened here #when she wakes up in the coffin at nrc #since it doesn't seem like mc remembered what happened with the prologue in the game either #I really wanted to give this a deal with the devil type feel #and make it look like Yuu gets lured into TW #by the 'villains'#it just seemed really fitting

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storiesofsvu · 2 years

Text

Sugar Mommy Ch 3

Warnings: language, a tiny mention of SVU stuff, light teasing, a very soft Rita.

It was a little past three when Rita re-entered the firm after an arraignment for a client, a small grin on her face as she moved past your desk.

“Thought I told you to take the rest of the day off after lunch?”

You glanced up from the open book in your lap, pen in hand as you’d been scribbling notes onto a legal pad on your desk.

“Technically…you suggested that I take an extended lunch.” You returned her smile, “Besides, basically all I’ve done since lunch is read through two hundred pages of smut.” You tossed the book onto the desk, the pen in the crease marking the page you were on as you sighed.

“That work, or pleasure?” Rita smirked, you let out a scoff, a semi offended look on your face.

“I’m sitting here trying to get a good angle on Paley for your defence and you’re mocking me?” Rita grinned at the teasing tone in your words.

“Hey, I’m not going to shame you if that’s what you’re into.”

“I prefer to not be choked out by belts in the bedroom..” Your gaze drifted to the empty space in front of you as you picked up your coffee, “Or surprise anal in elevators..or penises in general…”

“Note taken.” Rita’s response had you choking over your beverage, coughing a few times as your cheeks flushed, daring to glance up at her.

“I-uh- Cain’s in your office…”

“Ugh.” She rolled her eyes, “Of course he is. Which means you’ll have to make a pit-stop on your way home for me, give me a minute.” She disappeared into her office, you could hear the mumble of brief conversation between her and Adam as you stood, gathering the things you needed to take home with you. You were just pulling on your blazer when she exited her office, file in hand, “Be a darling and take this to Barba?”

“‘Course.” You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest at her words as you placed the file into your bag, but the flutter turned into absolute hammering as Rita’s hand reached toward your neck, her fingers gently closing around the clasp of your necklace that had fallen to your collarbone, swiftly moving it to the back of your neck. Her hand trailed down the chain, making sure the gem was straightened properly before giving your flustered face a warm smile.

“And go home once you’re done. It’s supposed to storm tonight. I’ll call you if I need anything…enjoy your smut.”

You laughed outwardly at the comment, barely able to form a word much less a sentence after the intimate action, you waved her a goodbye and headed from the building. You got the D.A’s office to find Carmen gone and Rafael’s office empty, on your way back to the elevator one of the SVU detectives you recognized was able to tell you he was in Part 33 over at the courthouse.

Thanking them, you made your way across the street, you couldn’t interrupt the trial just to drop off a motion, you’d have to wait until they were adjourned, quietly taking a seat in the back row of the courtroom. It was interesting to watch Barba go up against a different attorney, his usual flair was still there, but there was less playfulness than when he went up against Rita. You knew they were friends, that she’d originally worked for the prosecution, their friendly banter was half the fun of watching their cases.

You practically scoffed at the pitiful excuse of a defence attorney, Barba was definitely on his way to winning this case. More surprising was the fact that the Judge let them bring another witness forward, it was already well past six, things were usually wrapped up by five. Part of you was tempted to take out what you’d been working on prior to the errand, but more of you was intrigued in watching how the scene in front of you would unfold, analyzing how both sides were playing things. Finally the Judge called it just past seven p.m, the court room quickly clearing out as you swam upstream to the prosecution table.

“Ah..Miss Russell. To what do I owe the honour?”

“Rita asked me to drop this off on my way home.” You extended the file between you, “I tried your office but Carmen was already gone.” He flipped through the pages briefly,

“Thank you for waiting. I’m afraid I’m going to have to extend your day further, I’ve got a couple motions back in my office she’ll want before Monday.” You sighed lightly, ever wishing you were already home with a bottle of wine to start your weekend, “Sorry.” Rafael muttered as the two of you made your way out of the courtroom.

“It’s fine. She lives in Tribeca, not far from here.” Your distracted mind missed the grin from the A.D.A as he held the courthouse door open for you. The skies were already glooming overhead, you quickly followed him back to Hogan Place, exchanging pleasantries on your walk, you were ever thankful that he didn’t seem to resent you for working with the defence. Back in his office he swiftly dug out what Rita needed and you shot him a quick thank you and a good night as you closed the office door behind you.

Making it back onto the city streets you grimaced, the sky was already practically black, the storm Rita mentioned clearly moving in. You hadn’t been to her apartment yet, but you knew it couldn’t be that far, plugging the address into your phone, thankful you at least had your own set of keys in case she happened to be out. You made it at least three blocks before it starting drizzling, groaning in annoyance once again.

Rita was surprised to hear a knock at her door, it was late enough she’d forgone work, changed out of her business attire and was settled into some nighttime t.v with a glass of wine. She wasn’t sure exactly who would be able to get passed the doorman, moving to the door quietly before pulling it open.

“Y/N..what’re you-“

“Sorry to bother you, Barba said you’d want these before Monday..he was all caught up in court, things got delayed.” Your hand extended the motions out to the other woman, surprised when her hand softly closed around your wrist, pulling you into the apartment.

“Sweetheart you’re drenched!” The concern etched across her face and you gave a little shrug,

“I..thought I could beat the storm here…I’ll call an Uber to get home, I’ll be fine.” The papers in your hand were swiftly tossed to the kitchen island,

“Darling your teeth are practically chattering, I’m not letting you go back out there to get sick. I need you in good working health, come in.” Rita took your bag from you, placing it onto a spare kitchen stool, “What’d’you say you head down the hall to a nice hot shower? I’ll get you some dry clothes, leave yours on the basin and I’ll throw them in the wash.”

“But-“

“No buts. Through the bedroom to the right, I’m afraid the guest shower isn’t set up currentlly.” She gave you a semi stern yet caring look that had you instantly agreeing, moving quickly through the apartment.

Honestly you were thankful, you weren’t exactly dressed for rain, or for the cold, the warm water of the shower cascading over your skin making you sigh in relief. You’d left the door cracked open so Rita could swap out the clothes, your ears pricking up when you heard movement, breath slightly hitching at the idea of her being in the same room while you were naked. You tried to be as quick as possible, warming your body up the best you could before shutting the water off, curling a fluffy warm towel around you. You dried yourself off, pulling on the pyjama pants and oversized shirt Rita had left you (honestly surprised at the fact she even had such a shirt). You did your best to dry off you hair with the towel, combing through it with your fingers. Sneaking through the bathroom you found some hair serum, tracing it through your locks before you hung the towel back up and padded your way back to the main area of the apartment.

“Feeling better?” Rita asked from behind the kitchen island, mixing what looked like hot chocolate as she gave you a soft smile.

“A world better. Thank you.”

“Take a cab next time…I’ll reimburse you.” You half laughed at her response,

“You don’t have to do that.”

“If it’ll stop you from running through rain storms, I do.” She moved to grab a bottle of Bailey’s from a cabinet, “Any allergies?”

“Just penicillin.” You replied, moving into the open kitchen.

“Good to know.” She dumped a hefty amount of liquor into both mugs, sliding one over to you.

“Thanks.” Your hands grasped the mug, sighing at its warmth against your skin. Rita’s elbow nudged at your arm, motioning for your to follow her into the living room.

“How do you feel about Gilmore Girls?”

“The new stuff or the original seasons?”

“The original.” She nearly scoffed, smiling at your laugh as you placed your mug on the coffee table before dropping down onto the couch. You were quick to tug the blanket that was over the back of the couch around your legs as you pulled them up beside you, eager to feel the warmth from the room rather than the chill in your bones from the storm outside.

“Sounds perfect.”

“Wonderful .” Rita settled beside you, her shoulder nearly brushing yours as you both settled into the couch.

A few hours passed of t.v watching while your boozy hot chocolates were refilled, Rita took a quick pit stop to move your rain stormed clothes from the washer to the dryer. When she returned to the living room, she couldn’t help but smile, the image of you curled up on her couch, mug in both hands as you smiled at the show in front of you, how comfortable and at home you felt? You looked like you belonged there.

It was a few hours later, your mugs drained empty, your head had found a home against Rita’s shoulder, not that you had intended it, but the day had taken a toll on you. You’d been exhausted hours ago, but now you were content and happy and exhausted. Rita gently nudged you, a hand stroking your arm softly,

“You awake sweetheart?”

“Yeah..” You mumbled, pushing yourself up to sit upright, “Sorry, I should go…” Her hand clasped around your wrist again, bringing your sleepy attention back to her.

“It’s still storming out there, I’m not sending you out in that. Take the guest room.”

“Are..you sure?” She gave you a soft smile, thumb stroking over the back of your hand.

“Yes. It’s the weekend, neither of us have to work tomorrow. Get some good sleep.” You both stood from the couch as she passed you your bag, hand on your back to guide you down the hallway, “Make yourself at home. Feel free to help yourself to breakfast if you wake up early.”

“Okay…” You paused in the entrance to the guest room, unsure of exactly what you were feeling, or what you wanted in that moment, “Thank you.”

“Sweet dreams darling.” Rita gave your arm a reassuring squeeze, slowly turning from you before moving down the hall as you shut the door.

Despite the incredibly comfortable bed, and the ever so quiet apartment, your body still woke you up at your regular hour. You did your best to curl up and get back to sleep, but your brain wouldn’t shut off. Heeding Rita’s words, you grabbed a couple of things from your bag, padding out to the kitchen as you made yourself at home at the island. An hour or so later, Rita emerged from her bedroom, a small grin on her face as she took you in, legs tucked under you on the stool, pen scribbling away as your eyes darted through the book. She was particularly taken by your breakfast, unable to hold back the comment as her brows furrowed.

“You know…there are such things as bowls?” You head shot up at the voice, an embarrassed smile on your face as you spooned another mouthful of cereal, “They’re…right next to the mugs in the cupboard.

“I know…” You admitted, “God..you think I’m weird.”

“What? You go through a phase in college where you were too lazy to do dishes?” She approached the kitchen, pouring out a mug of coffee for herself.

“I..uhm..no.” You paused slightly, waiting for Rita to face you again so you could at least try to look her in the eye, “When I was a kid my Dad used to always wake me up with a giant coffee mug of Froot Loops on Saturdays. The big like, souvenir kinda mugs, he’d spend all morning cuddled on the couch with me watching cartoons. I guess I kinda kept the habit…”

Jesus fucking Christ.

As if Rita couldn’t find you more adorable.

Your weird breakfast habit was actually something that made you even cuter? You loved your Dad more than anything, that was already apparent, but knowing you held onto such a small tradition from your childhood? It made her wish you were easier to hate or something.

“That is…fucking adorable. I’ll allow it.” You chuckled softly at her legal terms, your flushed cheeks aiming downward at her praise, “And I can’t say I’ll watch cartoons with you, but if you want a little cuddle…that’s more than okay.” Your head practically shot up at that, doing your best to control the emotions on your face.

“Are..you sure?”

“Yes sweetheart.” She topped up your coffee, “Everyone deserves affection, doesn’t matter where it comes from.”

She gave you a warm smile, guiding you back over to the couch. There was no way you had thought your weekend would bring you to this, yet here you were. You started out with a Netflix binge, your head leaning against Rita’s shoulder like the night before, though this time her arm was around you, encouraging you to snuggle deeper. It was about halfway through the afternoon that your legs felt tight, needing to stretch them out your head ended up in Rita’s lap. You thought it would be a quick lil stretch without having to stand, but the moment her hand hit your hair you were done for, remaining there until your phone went off a few hours later. You checked the notification, realizing how late it was,

“I should really get going.” You mumbled, pushing up from the couch. “I’ll change quick and be out of your hair.” You grabbed your now clean clothes from the spare living room chair, darting off to put them on and return Rita’s to hers. When you returned to the open area Rita was leaning against the back of the couch,

“There’s a car waiting for you downstairs. You text me when you’re home.”

“Rita.” You laughed softly, “I’m perfectly capable of calling a cab.”

“I know that. But you deserve to be taken care of.” Her lips softly met your cheek as you bid each other good night.

“Thank you.” You gave her a warm smile before you darted out of the apartment door, your heart feeling like it was going a million miles a minute. You weren’t sure exactly what was going on, but you sure as hell liked it.

#rita calhoun #rita calhoun x reader #law and order svu #sugar mommy #law and order #svu #law and order special victims unit

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spaceoperajay · 2 years

Text

uwu new maxwil smut chapter hehe. Rated E please DNI minors. Read on ao3 or below the cut. Truce Chapter 2 Say, pal. Let's make a deal. You can stay here. Settle down, even. I'll give you food, gold, pigs, whatever you need. All I want in return is a truce.

"Ah!" Wilson tweeped, startled at Maxwell's sudden appearance. He always was and never it never got unfunny.

Still, he got his bearings quickly enough, Maxwell always reluctantly admired him for that. He sat up from the bed where he had been journaling. "Oh joy. It's you again. Free from doing whatever demons do in demonland?"

"You must spend a lot of time thinking about me," Maxwell smiled, "Maybe one day you'll figure out what I do. It will not be a good day."

"Where is the technicality in that sentence," Wilson wondered ironically but continued on with a more literal curiosity, "Will it be a great day? Will it 'not be a good day' for some pigmen out in the forest? Because I think it'll be a good day for me." Wilson grinned with a vengeance. How obnoxious and childish for a supposed 'gentleman".

It was Maxwell's job to be that. To be so well-mannered, charming, noteworthy and noble that Wilson wouldn't want anything other than to stay here forever. Hadn't that been the point of the whole Maxwell persona. Funny how in the end it would only be for this unshaven creep.

"That would be a breach of our, agreement, no?"

Wilson huffed, "Didn't say I would go find the stupid pieces. Just that...I'd find out more about you," he said shyly. Intriguing.

"How so?"

"Talking." Wilson said quickly.

"Talking..." Maxwell sat himself on the bed, two inches apart from Wilson, then neatly folded his legs, "Well sure pal, we can do that."

"You're as chipper as the cat that caught the canary," he grunted out a laugh, "I'm the canary, aren't I? Oh science...."

A chuckle slipped from him to out his shadow clone, "You are certainly caught but at least I haven't sunk my teeth in yet."

The scientist's eyes dilated faster than he'd ever seen but out came a typical dour comment, "Your hounds have."

"Are hounds what we are discussing now?"

Wilson's face scrunched in anger now, what emotive man. He still wasn't over the thrill of seeing him up close, "Maybe. Maybe we're discussing all the times you've killed me and now you're sitting in my bed. Next to me." His head fell between his hands. How would Wilson fix this contradiction in his head, of wanting Maxwell but hating him? Ideally for Maxwell he would realize that all this hate came from love.

"What would you like to discuss about it?"

Wilson peeled himself from his hands to give an utterly disgusted look that Maxwell couldn't help but laugh at.

"Have you ever felt guilt, just even a little tiny drop of it?"

He had to be careful how he answered this. "Have I ever felt guilt for the many ways you have found yourself dead? I don't like to see you suffer Wilson. I hope my help has proved that."

Wilson's brows relaxed, somewhat.

Really the only thing he felt guilt for was how easily Wilson believed that. They had such an easy time playing with his sanity and it was no wonder, Wilson's last death was delightfully ironic. With a strong mind and weak body Wilson had frozen to death against the insanity spire, kindling but a few feet away on the other side. Although, imagining that blush kissed face beside him turn blue did make roil his guts into an uneasiness.

The scientist said, "Proof is something very very hard to find."

"Found any then?"

"About you?"

"Well yes, but I'm curious about what else you have such rare proof of."

"I don't know if you are a human but, you've lived life as one, otherwise you wouldn't have the experiences you've had or be able to touch s-s-so- Well I know there's water serpents in the San Francisco Bay! I've seen it. The ocean currents just don't make sense otherwise and there have been numerous other similar eyewitness reports!"

"Oh? Now I'm curious."

He had never trusted those waters. Not even They liked to be there, and in fact had led him away from there on more than one occasion. Powers greater than Them? Or great enough that They would not like get into a confrontation? Now that was interesting.

Wilson began to go over the eyewitnesses, detailing each account and Maxwell listened carefully to point out inconsistencies; when he did point them out Wilson barreled through. It was simultaneously annoying and charming. So much excitement for, the more Maxwell listened, so much bullshit.

"I saw it's shadow against the docks! It couldn't have been anything else, the fisherman's trap was empty!" Wilson proclaimed like he had discovered some truth of the universe. His smile was true and his eyes shone with the triumph of slaughtering his own dinner.

"Was it full before?"

"Well, probably. Hey! Are you saying that you, a demon from a radio, don't believe me?"

Given Wilson's propensity for delusions, he was skeptical, but he still felt himself sway under Wilson's conviction. It wouldn't do good to goad Wilson anyway, not when the man had just been put at ease. Somewhat. The scientist's eyes did flicker to the corner of the room that his spear occasionally. Futile.

"Anything is possible," he admitted and leaned back and supported himself with his hands: one behind Wilson, causing their shoulders to touch. He wasn't going to rush this time. He cringed at his eagerness; he had acted like some teenage boy with a whore. It forced him to admit that Their throne had broken him with loneliness.

Once he had recovered from the last time with Wilson, he heard titters: the kind he heard when a survivor had died a particularly original death. This time it was at him for being so weak and emotional so easily. He didn't let the shame show on his face but somehow, They knew and the titters grew louder and louder and soon he couldn't think and all his brain could do was titter. And when he couldn't stand it any longer it turned into a deep vicious laugh that vibrated to his very soul. He bit his lips. He wasn't going to laugh along. It was his laugh They mimicked, which just entertained Them more.

"Maxwell?" Wilson broke him out of his thoughts.

He would go much more slowly this time. Make Wilson want it, make him the desperate one. He wasn’t broken, no They would never get that from him.

"Yes dear," Wilson startled at the endearment, " I'm sure you've stumbled onto something. What was that about the water movements?"

Wilson continued on about the water patterns and was satisfied when Maxwell concluded that Wilson had made a compelling case. The scientist had turned his body to be directly facing Maxwell, giving him a straight view to that big stupid grin. They chatted about San Francisco, Maxwell of the old city and Wilson of the new one. Wilson had surprised him and remembered stories Maxwell told him from living there, from when he was just a voice on a radio. One never knew when Wilson would suddenly become clever or observant.

They laughed and rambled on, talking about what had stayed the same. Wilson's hand had moved over his. He appeared to enjoy bragging about the experiments he performed at the World’s Fair in 1910. So the terrible earthquake and subsequent fire happened sometime before 1910. Wilson said 1906, but surely he was misremembering.

"I'm not! It was huge news," Wilson said blithely.

"Do you even remember what you had for dinner last night?" he teased back.

Wilson tapped his fingers on Maxwell's in thought then countered, "Nothing because I forgot to eat."

"So, you didn't even remember to eat."

"But I did remember that I didn't eat," Wilson snorted and Maxwell smiled along.

"I think you just need something to sink your teeth into."

Wilson blurted out intelligible words.

Maxwell continued his teasing, he had Higgsbury corned in a way no spear would help, "Do you remember that you were much bolder before?"

"It was. It was just a test. I wanted to see what your flirting thing was about, what you were trying. It wasn't it wasn't uhm. It wasn't anything serious. It was an experiment."

"Ha. Never thought I would find myself at the end of one of yours."

Wilson's face burned red, and his eyes glared in the most adorable defiance.

"Come now Wilson, you can't expect me to beg. We've already crossed that line into something more, anyhow," he whispered right into Wilson's ear. The man shook and Maxwell could feel the heat radiating off his cheeks.

Warmer still, he felt an anger rise, this felt like begging. He was Maxwell, king of the realm, not some sad sideshow act. People came to him, not them. This was all to manipulate Wilson. He needed to do this, soothe and smooth the arrogant Higgsbury into melted candy.

And Wilson tastes that sweetness when Wilson kisses him. His kisses are sloppy and wet, and he sucks too hard, too wantingly, too obvious: Maxwell basked in the attention. He wasn't too obvious, Wilson was, the absolute fool.

Wilson straddled him swiftly and Maxwell let him show his worship. Wilson humped against him in a steady rhythm and his invading tongue sang the psalms. Maxwell let the melody take over him, he had already missed this too much. Wilson was too perfect.

Even when Wilson licked across his face. Wilson not only inexperienced but strange and after getting over his disgust that only made Maxwell more excited to teach. Wilson must have mistaken his reaction for something else and licked him again. Before he could be licked for a third time, he bit at Wilson's lips then fell backwards onto the bed, pulling him with him.

Maxwell makes sure to stay gentler this time. He's here to spoil Higgsbury, its welcome change of pace from all the torture for both of them.

He broke the kiss to stare Wilson in the eyes and say, "No one else has ever made it this far in the game, you're special."

Wilson whimpered so loudly it went straight to Maxwell's groin. The puffy red lips and hungry dilated eyes were testing Maxwell devotion to staying patient.

"Oh my beautiful Wilson..."

He pets Wilson's chest as he says this, traces a finger down Wilson's neck. And knows exactly how sensitive it must feel. He wishes it still felt as sensitive. He feels Wilson melt in his arms, but the man solidifies to raise his head give a look Maxwell's seen before. Skepticism. He enjoyed the show, but he doesn’t really think its magic and Wilson thinking that bothers him more that any other skeptic ever has.

He gently nips at Wilson's neck. He would make the scientist a believer, for good. It won’t be something finished tonight, no this was just the beginning. Wilson got back to kissing him and Maxwell marveled at how easy it was to mess up Wilson's very particularly managed hair. He would have pitied him in another life because this was just the beginning of the beginning.

He was going to build up heat in every single surface inch of Wilson's body before he let the man combust. Although he quickly had a better idea.

"Clever, clever thing. You try everything at least once. It's how you've figured out my world's secrets," he encouraged Wilson and caught the moan of a reply with a kiss. Wilson dove his tongue in deep to Maxwell's mouth. Oh yes, he'd let the scientist drive himself crazy, no work on Maxwell's part but some whispers.

Wilson humped against Maxwell madly but found enough focus to lift his hips and adjust so their manhoods would rub against each other, still clothed, however. He always thought Wilson was oddly repressed for all his eccentricity, too many rejections? Maxwell wondered in sympathy.

He want to release all the repression like a champagne bottle and relish the sweet bubbles of Wilson's thoughtless begging noises.

"No one figures out my world's secrets," he threatened. That would shake the bottle, rile his favorite stubborn man up. He felt dizzy when he heard Wilson growl in his ear. Oh yes please.

Wilson bit as his neck and Maxwell knew that this was just how he wanted to be worshipped. The pinprick of Wilson's teeth was just sharp enough to really reach Maxwell. Wilson kept at it while his hands rubbed under Maxwell's suit jacket.

"You're so rugged in your strength yet so delicate in your application...Give me more Higgsbury."

And Wilson did. Every bite was an offering. Maxwell soon felt something sharp and sudden that made him let out a noise, a very small one, especially compared to Wilson's moo-ing. Wilson was tweaking his nipples like they were some gadgets to play with. He could hardly remember how good this felt, it was shocking and despite the fuzziness of physical sensation he was overwhelmed by pleasure.

Wilson lifted himself up, hands still playing with his nipples, and laughed.

What the hell did he think he was laughing at? His King? He was Wilson's puppeteer, and he was being laughed at? Maxwell had an instinct to whistle his hounds over and tear this stupid shack to shreds

Wilson continued laughing, "Who knew the 'Amazing Maxwell' had such a cute moan."

A retort was difficult to think of, with Wilson still gyrating his hips and playing with his nipples. He could get his shadows out and tease Wilson to insanity, then he would let Wilson come on his cock. After that, they would see who moaned 'cuter'.

Wilson's laugh was what was cute, the son of a bitch. Really what his moan in comparison to that, or the soft sighs Wilson let out as he looked Maxwell in the eye. Maxwell was using him, any part of him that acted 'cute' was to his advantage. He was winning. Wilson was losing. He was patient and Wilson was a mess.

He feels something hot build in his real body. Not an orgasm, but he's stuck in some black hole edging it, stuck in some limbo of under-stimulation and over-stimulation.

He shifts his focus back to here with Wilson. He could watch the scientist huff red in the face forever; he'd been the cause of the scientist being red face through the challenges of his world and he'd spied on the scientist when his red face was caused by lust but he'd never shared being the cause with lust before. It was surreal, an emotion he hadn't felt in a long time. He wanted more but he stops Wilson when the man plucks his belt undone.

"I’m not...releasing in my pants again," he argued.

"And so you are on mine, gentleman scientist?"

"Looks like it," Wilson shrugged, eyes nervous as he furrowed his lips stubbornly. What a bold little man.

Wilson continued, ".... or I could take yours off too?" And ruin the mystery? He wanted to see Wilson eye his bulge curiously more. Not yet.

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Maxwell barked and regretted it. He was supposed to be sweet on Wilson but it was difficult. He wanted to be sweet. He missed this. All this. Romance, sex, sweet nothings. Something other than animosity from Wilson. He regretted the rage he had defaulted to earlier.

"I'm the one taking caring of you anyway, hmm?" Maxwell began undoing Wilson’s pants and it was easy to pull out the eager uncut member. It was erect and boiling red. He stroked it, getting a feel for the size, texture, and shape. It had a stark curve to it and was quite large compared to Wilson's stature. Maxwell continued to pump it to learn every detail. It was entrancing and Maxwell almost got caught up in it before realizing he was the magician.

He stopped and raised an eyebrow at Wilson who got the message after an undecipherable stammer and began humping against his glove. He wasn't able to look Maxwell in the eye at first, doing no more than taking quick peeks. Wilson moved increasingly faster and the time he spent looking at Maxwell rather than away grew longer.

Maxwell pressed his other palm against the end of Wilson’s spine and a shivering moan seemed to shoot straight up it and out Wilson's mouth.

Wilson didn't last long after that and Maxwell saw a translucent goo on his fingers, he benevolently even rubbed against Wilson's cock to encourage the last of it out. The scientist blindly panted before looking down and seeing how dirty the glove was then looked up at Maxwell with uneasiness. Maxwell's lips split with mirth at an idea. He brought his fingers to his lips and licked, slowly lapping up Wilson's seed. Something in his abdomen just vibrated with joy, so this was what Wilson tasted like. He let the salty, bitter, but not unpleasant taste marinate on his tongue; couldn't stop thinking about it. With a flair made sure to lick every crevice and every pore of his glove clean. He swallowed the two fingers that had most of the mess then pulled them out with a pop.

Wilson's mouth had opened wide like he wanted to say something and his dilated eyes grew even wider. Maxwell hadn't seen those in quite a few deaths. It wasn't just shock or fear, there was also an irresistible urge to understand the total unknown. He could barely keep his shadow clone solid as he felt his real body come undone. He chuckled from deep in his chest, he was sure Wilson could feel it. He loved those eyes.

He sat up, pushing Wilson on his back in the process. He was prepared to leave right there.

"Do you even have a need for completion or is this all to entertain me?" Wilson asked bluntly but laced with sleep.

Maxwell let the air hang silent for a moment, "Are you worried I don't like you because I didn't spend? Cute," Wilson winced, "But I can assure you I so very enjoying seeing you like this."

"That wasn't my question."

"No, it was my answer," Maxwell smiled. It was like playing with a shocked mouse.

Wilson rolled his eyes the promptly closed them. Maxwell smiled at a job well done, examining the man. It was easy to get lost in the way his chest rose and fell. But, he could watch this from anywhere and as a King he had other obligations, so with some remorse he snapped his shadow clone away.

#ds #maxwil #my work

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purposelynana · 1 year

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What Did I Watch: #31

This week, I learn to say goodbye.

What is it with goodbye? If feels scary but necessary. Goodbye gives us closure. An end to a journey. In life alone, there's no perfect goodbye, but in fictional world a perfect goodby could exist.

To me, a great ending is not necessarily wanting me to wish for a direct sequel. A great ending is supposed to be tighten the loose ends. Also gives room for our imagination to explore what could happen after the camera stopped rolling. Moreover, a great ending is the one that left you wanting more but not selfishly enough to make you craving more because we all know deep down a sequel never guaranteed to replicate the exact quality of its predecessor.

My School President is a wonderful journey through and through. 10/10. Landed smoothly without having too much angst or humor. It's already up there with Skam. Perhaps on some other day, it'll be higher than Skam. What a pleasantly beautiful little show about what it means to be young, and having the courage to dream.

I didn't have any of those things which presented during my high school run. A friendship that last for so long or even a significant other who made my life bearable enough. My high school years was boring and literally nothing happened. I don't really any friend that I still contact from that period of time. So to me, at first the concept of My School President was already laughable. But well if it wasn't happen to me, it certainly happened to everyone else, eh?

In addition, I could confirm My School President landed smoothly. Got a beautiful ending. The song still slapped. There's no better word to describe it other than it was charming. This show was charming. Even I couldn't stop grinning ear to ear writing this.

The scene that broke me. Ah young love.

Never Let Me Go, to me felt like not exactly wasted potential but definitely not something I would praised until seven generations. It was good but never been great. I would love to recommending it but not necessarily you have to watch it.

Because there were many what-ifs scenario forming in my brain while I was watching it. For example, what could've happen if it was starring someone else entirely? How the scene would sound like if they had better sound designer? What if the screenwriters decided to rewrite the whole thing so that the characters could talk like they were in real life instead of lakorn?

Because I couldn't help but to raised my eyebrows during certain scenes. It wasn't technically bad acting. It was an okay but the way Neung convey his feelings sometimes I felt like I was watching a play. It did feel like the whole time Phuwin just pretending to say those words, instead of actually saying those words. Plus sometimes the sentences that coming out from his mouth just didn't make any sense. It was clearly intentional because it kept going until the screen fade to black. I know P'Jo was trying to make a homage to classic lakorns, so perhaps Thais would appreciate a lot more. But I'm not Thai, and I just went "no shit sherlock" the entire time.

Despite all of that though, it was beautifully shot. Honestly this show got the best cinematography ever. Without having too much contrast, P'Jo played a lot with lights and compositions. Colors looked so deep yet soft at same time. There was a sense of longing and yearning radiated from the screen. It was magic to see something that I learned from being an amateur cinephile to get materialize.

Lights on this. And the color. I love the colors. It wasn't trying to be gritty as fuck like Batman movies. It wasn't on the same tone with In The Mood For Love but the use of color and lights and framing to convey devotion are just utter brilliance.

youtube

It was a struggle to watch Moonlight Chicken. Like I said in previous post, it seemed I take a peek on my own life. Eventually, I'll probably never get the happy ending I deserve so much, not like these fictional characters.

10 minutes into episode 5, was solidify my thoughts and prayers on this. I got called out, dragged, faced to one of bitter memories I've had on a past relationship. Because yes, one day people just decided not even bother trying to save their relationship. It already happened to me once, and no I don't want to relive that, even in fictional zone. Therefore, as I was watching episode 5, I undergo so many different feelings. If week 2 felt like a gut punch, week 3 seemed one hell of torture, and week 4 was an utopia that I've never get to lived on.

youtube

This ain't it.

Because Wen got his happy ending. Liming got his happy ending. Me? Well, it wasn't like I don't want to open up to other people. There was no other people trying to get close to me.

I liken this to my experience watching Brokeback Mountain. It was a good storytelling, but do I want to experience it all over again? No. Because it was just too close to home. And I still don't know what kind of my ending is. It was scary. Shit got real this time. I think I'm never going be the same. I tried to shift my focus into something else, e.g. Formula 1, it gets worse. Possibly because Ferrari looked and sounded shit. Everything just didn't help anymore.

me during the whole shitty shit bahrain gp free practice, watching aston martin became way too more OP, and red bull still being red bull. me as tifosi:

#my school president #never let me go #moonlight chicken #what did i watch #be ready for concealed ranting on bl posts #this year is our year again #fuck ferrari #bahrain gp 2023 #Youtube

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eternalowl · 2 years

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Incorrect quotes to help cope with our impending doom part 3, the final part

I’m scared for the finale

Luz: Remain CALM! *slaps Hunter multiple times*

Hunter: What's gone wrong, Luz?

Luz: Hey! That’s one hell of a thing to say to a person. Just because I’m calling doesn’t mean there’s a crisis.

Hunter: That’s technically true, I suppose. Why are you calling?

Luz: Well... There’s a crisis.

*Hunter falls over*

Gus: Hunter! Are you alright?

Hunter: Is that you, God?

Gus: What?

Hunter: It's just, you sound a lot more like Gus than I expected.

Luz: Sometimes I'll start a sentence and I don't even know where it's going. I just hope I find it along the way.

Hunter: So oxygen went on a date with potassium, it went... OK.

Amity: I thought oxygen was dating magnesium, OMG.

Hunter: Actually oxygen first asked nitrogen out, but nitrogen was all like NO.

Luz: I thought oxygen had that double bond with the hydrogen twins.

Willow: Looks like someone's a HO.

Amity: NaBrO.

Gus: I'm done with all of you!

Hunter: What happened to your nose?

Luz: I used it to break some guy's fist.

Eda: Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit, and wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.

Steve: That's deep.

Hunter: That means that ketchup is a smoothie.

Steve: That's deeper.

Raine: ...You guys are idiots.

Hunter: I’m in love with you.

Willow: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork.

Hunter: I know.

Willow: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-

Darius: How did you break your leg?

Raine: Do you see those porch stairs?

Darius: Yes.

Raine: I didn't.

King: It's not our fault!

Luz: Yeah, but... Come on, the least we can do is talk to them.

King: No, the least we could do is nothing!

Hooty, when Eda walks in: Oh, hey, I'm just making King some pizza!

Hooty: *accidentally smacks King in the face with the baking sheet*

Lilith: *holds a gun out to Gus*

Gus: I-I don't believe in guns.

Lilith: Well, trust me, they're very real. Now take it.

Steve: *sharpens knife* We've got ways of making people talk.

Steve: *cuts piece of cake*

Kikimora: ...Can I have some?

Steve: Cake is for talkers.

Lilith: I'm a nice person, but I'm about to start throwing rocks at people.

Belos: I’ve invited you here because I crave the deadliest game...

Luz, nodding: Knife Monopoly.

Belos: I was actually going to play Russian roulette, but now I'm really interested in whatever knife Monopoly is.

King: A mosquito tried to bite me and I slapped it and killed it.

King: And I started thinking.

King: Like, it was just trying to get food.

King: What if I went to the fridge and it just slammed the door shut and snapped my neck?

Steve: Are you ok?

Lilith: I’ve been sleeping so little the past few nights that when I go to the alarm app, I click on the “power nap” button. I don’t set up alarms, I set up timers, Hooty.

King: I will send my army to attack!

King: *releases a dumpster of raccoons*

Kikimora, ordering coffee: I’d like a light roast.

Darius: You're kinda ugly.

Lilith: If I punch myself and it hurts, am I weak or strong?

Luz: Strong.

Steve: Weak.

Darius: An idiot, is what you are.

Gus: So according to the cease and desist order I got, apparently you can’t ‘legally’ be a lawyer if your license is ‘cut out of a cereal box’.

#the owl house incorrect quotes #the owl house #the owl house luz #the owl house eda #the owl house amity #the owl house gus #the owl house steve #the owl house hunter #the owl house lilith #the owl house darius #the owl house Raine #the owl house Kikimora #the owl house king #the owl house Belos #the owl house Hooty #the owl house willow

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crazy56u · 1 year

Text

Somehow I have lucked out and got Monday off twice in a row, and seemingly to compensate for that, I have the sniffles. Battleship time.

And we open up on the S.S. Bad CGI.

"Holy ship!" #LetBenSayFuck2023

What the fuck is a "Phalanx"?

Oh fuck, Ben is going to go fucking deaf before the episode's out at this rate.

"What war is this?" The Cold War. Specifically, the tail end of it.

"It was a drill." So far.

Do you think Brandon Routh laughed when he found out how Legends of Tomorrow (abuptly) ended?

"Especially with the Chinese watching." Annnnd the episode is now banned in China.

"Our ship is about to be the centerpiece of an exercise, slash the plot of a Quantum Leap. I will continue speechifying while someone slinks off to talk to ghosts."

How is Ben having deja-vu of something he never experienced?

"You're on a battleship, so hopefully, it's not like that movie."

"We are the tip of the spear. That means the ship is sharp."

Let me guess: The USS Montana originally went down in a freak accident, killing Addison's dad.

"My head hurts." Get some Excendrin then, you're on the clock.

Oh fuck, they remembered they had to do the Congresswoman plot.

So, calling it: Ben doing this leap with Addison's dad somehow fixes the Congresswoman's life.

"You're in the Navy." And cue the Village People-

"May 2, 1989." Once again, why doesn't this show say the dates more often. That's literally my only substantial complaint about this show.

Oh, so, the Montana accidentally let the Tampa die.

Honestly, Brandon Routh was fucking lucky to dodge prison time.

"Who's to say it's not like Back to the Future?" Well, in one episode, Al immediately vanished after Ziggy said he was 100% likely to die in the gas chamber due to Sam fucking up, so, technically the show already is.

"Look, I know Sam Beckett once set up a rule about not changing history for personal gain, but Ben, I need you to fucking ignore that, we need to save my dad."

Okay, I half expected that sentence to end on "Light her up", and for the cannons to start up.

[I will never not be pissed that Legends of Tomorrow got rid of Brandon Routh; I quit watching the show after his last episode, the show needed him.]

The most upset Brandon Routh can be: A neutral glare.

"We're here, sir." That's fucking mean of the show to assume more than 5% of the audience can understand that map.

Wait, so the ship did acknowledge the distress signal origina- annnnnnnd the captain is the bad guy, he's the reason they ignored it.

"Look, I do not care what you say, we are not answering a so-called 'distress' signal, and if it turns out that ship is real and everyone dies because of me, I am throwing you under the fucking bus."

"It wasn't him..." Gee. YA THINK?

[Okay, is it me, or is the cameraman extra fidgety tonight? That was a random zoom-in on top of the shakeyness.]

"We really need to know what happened in 1989." Might as well. If you really think about it, in the grand scheme of things, 1989 was the point things started going down hill.

[Only, like, three people who follow me will understand/appreciate that line.]

Wow, I expected the episode to take longer for it to be revealed to the captain that the distress signal was real. Why is this episode going smooth?

"Thank you, Master Chief." Out of context, that line in a Quantum Leap episode sounds like a fucking shitpost.

Ah. So that's why the Tampa went down. The captain is fucking insane.

"Ben, say 'Yes sir,' and apologize." There's an alternate cut where Ben instead punched the guy.

The second the torpedo exploded, you can fucking tell the captain choked down the urge to laugh.

Meanwhile, at the docks, Magic and Friend are hanging out.

...does Magic saying "our ship" mean he's speaking generally, or does it mean he's actually on the Montana in 1989 as well?

That is a sad looking birthday cake.

"Do you wanna get kicked out of the Navy?" It's shaping up like how the episode ends, so...

"Ben, my dad never talked about his family." Boy, there's a lot of unanswered questions here...

Young Brandon Routh beat the shit out of a shitty dad, that is how you know he is the fucking GOAT.

"Why was he so cold growing up?" He got thrown under the bus, Addison...

Great, now the Montana's fucked!

[Unrelated to all of this, but I just pounded an entire roll of Creme Savers, during the first half of the episode, so my night's going alright.]

[Okay, I was searching for the name in my head all episode, but it now just hit me: The Captain looks like Robert Forrester.]

Welcome to Quantum Leap, what you thought was Battleship was actually Minesweeper, get fucked.

Just like everything in life, the real bad guy is the Weather Channel dropping the fucking ball.

"Wait, Ben's in a minefield, hot fucking damn, that's sick!"

Holy shit. This is Minesweeper...

They actually count by Mississippis in the Navy?

Okay, the Captain wants them to kill people, someone needs to lock him in a broom closet.

Brandon Routh, once again, the motherfucking GOAT.

At this point, I am actively willing someone to punch the Captain out, he is about to fucking cause World War III in 1989.

"Heeeeey Magic, how's your day going? We might be causing World War III..."

Captain, The William D. Porter refused to break radio silence during war games. It almost blew up FDR in the process.

Addison, just let Ben punch him.

BOOOOY of all the ways for Addison to learn her parents' marriage was shit...

"I won't pass on the darkness that I carry." Tooooooo fucking late, Brandon Routh.

Brandon Routh, fucking do a mutiny, you've earned it. Do a little mutiny?

"I'm going to ask you a really stupid question, would that distract you?"

[I literally only have this one tab opened on Firefox, why is it fucking lagging out now?]

SOMEONE FUCKING PUNCH OUT THE CAPTAIN ALREADY, FOR FUCK'S SAKE.

The captain's about to fire those torpedoes himself...

"Look, captain, you're a legend. Trust me, I know."

Why dopes it seem like Drake's about to commit suicide?

[Can you tell I have been pointedly deciding to not say the Captain's name until this moment?]

[Also, just got done with a second Creme Savers roll.]

[This fucking AirBNB commercial...]

Did I hear Ben right? Is he about to fucking give the ship an anti-mine shield?

I am honestly shocked that worked...

It is a dick move to have Brandon Routh pretend to be ignoring this speech right now, episode...

"Everything's going to be okay. I think my Ghost Future Daughter just assured me of that..."

OH FUCK, THEY REMEMBERED THE COWBOY EXISTED!

"You helped me save the Tampa. Eat shit, Ben. (leaps)"

And Ben winds up in People's Court.

Honestly, I still can't get over how that shit with the anti-mine shield worked, but that might just be me being a dumbass.

#quantum leap #spoilers #s.o.s.#legends of tomorrow #brandon routh #battleship #back to the future #minesweeper

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littlebosleepmusings · 2 years

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Welcome to Spiderhead // Transgression

Pairing(s): Steve Abnesti x Reader

Warning(s): mild language, age difference, power imbalance, drug use, some non-consensual drug use (?)

Summary: In the not so distant future, with not many healthy adults left, young delinquents are coerced into serving their time in the form of voluntary drug trials. Life at Spiderhead is generally comfortable and non eventful. You have everything you could ever need. Well, almost everything.

What starts as an impulsive wager to gain perks for you and your friends, soon takes a more risky turn for all those involved.

Seducing the doctor was definitely not part of the plan.

A/N: Also, this is technically an AU as I started writing this BEFORE watching the film and still haven’t seen it yet. I just read the short story.

CLICK HERE TO READ

@nikotokitaswife @stephv213 @andreasison

(alternate promo image)

CHAPTER ONE

You can’t remember your life before Spiderhead. The employees here, would have you believe it’s better this way.

If you don’t remember your past, then you can’t miss it. If you don’t remember your crime, did you really commit one?

Everyone here at Spiderhead has an unsavoury past. Your sentence, comes in the form of participating in clinical trials AKA being human guinea pigs for the drugs only the elite can afford.

Without your memories, you are just a blank slate for them to shape... or try to at least. The people you’ve met here are quite resilient.. You notice bits and pieces of what must be their old selves breaking through more and more everyday.

Still not knowing who you are or where you come from can be a jarring experience. For some, it causes them to close themselves off. Hide away in their rooms or lash out. For others, it creates a sort co-dependency between them and the new friends they’ve met while inside. It keeps them sane. Although at times, too passionate and obsessive you’ve noticed. In your case, while you value your friendships, you also cling to routine and authority.

9:00 is breakfast in the Dining Hall. Then sessions begin for the chosen few, if any at all that day. They can last anywhere from 10:30 AM, until 6:00. No more than three happen at once and no more than nine sessions in one day. 10:00 to 11:30 is communal exercise time. 11:30 onward is Study Hall. Then Lunch at 1:00. The rest of the day is spent in leisure. You can free roam the grounds. There’s the game room, the pool area, a gym, Dinner at 6:30.

After being fitted with your MobiPak™ in medical, you always make the short journey through the Garden. It’s an enclosed hallway, filled with illustrious plants and miniature ponds. It’s a welcome view on your way to such a sterile and boring room.

This time, Dr. Cassidy is currently leading you through the Garden on your way to Eval Room 1.

She stops in front of the entrance, waiting for you. That’s when you hear a string expletives coming from somewhere in the distance. You recognize Raegan’s pissed off voice and you absentmindedly find yourself halting in your tracks by the door.

It’s a stark reminder things aren’t always as peaceful here as they seem.

“God, your friend is such a juvenile, utter waste of space.” Cassidy rolls her eyes. “Here’s a little reminder for you, just in case you ever feel like acting out,” she begins. “Disobedience gets you nowhere.”

You don’t respond. All you can do is stare at the petite, but severe looking woman. Thankfully, she doesn’t dwell on the moment for long.

“Jesus, hurry up and get inside.” Cassidy practically shoves you into the swinging door, so you have no choice but to go through it.

SESSION #0128

“Ah, lucky number Thirteen. It’s good to see you again.” It’s Dr. Abnesti’s voice you immediately hear, acknowledging you from behind the glass screen. You glance toward one of the security monitors, used to give occupants a closer look at the room above. Abnesti’s smiling face is the first thing you see. At least someone seems happy to see you. Strands of impeccably coiffed blond hair, fall down his forehead as he shuffles some papers together. He glances back up toward you. Gosh, his smile is infuriatingly perfect.

Though his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, does it? You can tell he’s been put through the ringer by Rae and despite feeling slightly sorry for Abnesti, you kind of love her even more for it. She does what you’ve never had the guts to do.

Mark is seated in the chair beside him. You consider waving hello, but instead you opt to just make eye contact. He nods at you in acknowledgement.

Taking a seat in the single white chair in the room, mentally preparing yourself for whatever experiment he had in store. Whether mental or physical. You keep quiet, until spoken to. Knowing that you’re a well needed break from whatever chaos Rae caused earlier. You try your best to keep it that way.

“I never need to make you compliant, do I?” He sighs. It’s more of an offhand remark to himself, but with the mic still on you hear it loud and clear anyway.

For some reason it’s a source of pride for you. You like that he doesn’t find you difficult or troublesome. You always try to avoid conflict when possible. The thought makes you anxious. Maybe it’s from an echo of your old life that stuck around. A rough childhood or crappy early young adulthood... you’d never know. Rae accuses you of liking it here too much, but at this point you’ve decided, all you want is a peaceful stay.

He’s looking through your notes now, no doubt trying to find what horror you’ve by chance managed to avoid. You note when his finger stops skimming the page and he settles on something.

“We haven’t used, Bluntiful™ on her yet, have we?” Abnesti asks, head still down.

"Nope, we have not," Mark confirms.

Bluntiful™. A truth drug. The name's a mouthful, but it's not so bad. You are quite relieved at what he’s settled on. You haven’t been dosed with it yet in any of your sessions, but it seems fairly tame compared to some of the other choices.

“You okay with trying that one today?” Abnesti asks, seemingly glancing up to watch you for input.

“Uh...” You actually begin to think on it, but he no longer waits for you to answer.

“Drip on?” He has already returned his gaze to his desk.

It’s always been protocol to ask in some capacity, and although you can refuse, you never do.

“Acknowledge,” you say without much thought. It’s what you always say. You also don’t want to know what will happen if you make him ask a second time.

You watch as Abnesti fiddles with his control device.

“So what’s different about this one?” you ask. As far as you know, Bluntiful™ has already been tested on some of your friends. If Abnesti is using it on you, it can’t be the same version.

Abnesti exchanges a glance with Mark. Then, he turns back to look down at you. "Uh, what do you mean?" he asks.

"Nothing. Never mind. Forget I asked."

Suddenly, Mark speaks up on your behalf. "I think she assumes it's a different variant because some of her friends must have been apart of the trials from a few months back.

Abnesti reflects for a moment, then responds. "Oh yes, that is right. It’s obvious you actually pay attention around here," he commends you. “Yeah, so this one should last slightly longer this time. Upwards of an hour, unless I decrease the dose to shut it off.”

You nod, as Abnesti swipes a dial in a clockwise motion. He starts his countdown.

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.”

After a few moments, you still don’t feel any different. You find yourself wondering if it will even work on you, when Abnesti speaks again.

“How do you feel about Spiderhead? Do you like this facility?”

“I like the friends I’ve made.”

For some reason, he doesn’t seem to notice right away that you’ve managed to avoid answering the question entirely.

“Okay and given the chance, would you leave?” Dr. Abnesti asks. You can tell he finds some humour in the question.

When, the words don’t readily flow from your mouth as expected, Abnesti stirs slightly in his chair. “Please don’t resist," he warns.

“I think we all would, wouldn’t we?” you reply finally.

Abnesti shakes his head a little in irritation. “Speak plainly and answer the question.”

“Yes, I would leave. This is only temporary anyway. Two years?”

“Mmmhmm.” The scientist nods, as he takes his pen to his notepad. “What do you think of Dr. Fournier?”

Dr. Melanie Fournier is a kind and beautiful French woman. A favourite among many around here. Like Abnesti, she’s not a medical doctor, but holds a PhD. You sometimes have sessions with her, when Abnesti is otherwise occupied.

“She’s a very driven and intelligent woman. Focused, yet accommodating. I like her a lot.”

“And Dr. Cassidy?” He asks, looking up at you.

The woman who brought you here. You have no trouble finding the words to describe her. “I find her to be very cold and calculating. Hateful too. I think she’s hateful. She pushed me into a door...” you say matter of factly. “She’s like a giant, evil rodent.”

You hear both men chuckle, before you quickly start talking again. “I don’t like her at all... or her haircut.”

“Noted.” Abnesti writes something down again. “And how do you feel about me?” His eyes on you are watching you more intensely this time.

The question catches you off guard, and you find yourself faltering a bit. You bite your lip.

"My personality...my temperament, how I run things around here."

Oh, thank God.

“Oh, well you can be nice at times. Strict at others. Otherwise, I think you’re just fine I suppose.”

Abnesti mouth quirks up into a slightly mischievous grin.

“You haven’t seen me be very strict with you, have you, Thirteen?” There’s a warning in his tone that you find off putting.

“Well, no, I haven’t...” you admit. You only based your truth on what others have told you, but you haven’t actually experienced it yourself. He is always even tempered with you. You’ve never seen him when he’s pissed or angry.

“So next time answer with your own experiences then, hmm.”

After being called out, you find yourself nodding promptly. “Of course.”

There’s a beat of silence before Abnesti speaks again. “How do you feel about the sessions? Do you enjoy them?”

What kind of question is that? There’s nothing to enjoy about the irregular and spontaneous nature of these sessions. You never knew what was going to happen during them. Sometimes you had it easy, but other times, you could get an undesired experienced.

“I neither enjoy nor dislike them.”

“Does having to participate in these sessions, ever aggravate you in any way?”

Aggravate? That’s a strong word. A negative emotion, like anger. You felt little of that at all lately, but you suppose that could all change. A slight annoyance, yes. Aggravation, no. Like you said, that word is too strong.

Sure, you’ve been curious about what’s to come in your sessions, but then you recall your recent walk down, and the ones before it. You find you aren’t too annoyed or fearful about the idea at all, but that could all change one day. Besides, they are mandatory.

“No,” you answer quickly, and Abnesti jots down some words.

“But that could always change.” The words come out before you’ve even decided to say them, and he looks up right as you do. Like he didn’t expect you to say them either.

You continue to talk with him for some time. You aren’t really sure how long. You just suddenly become aware of how dry your mouth is and how stiff your body is in your chair, after not moving for some time.

When the clock gets to 5:59, Abnesti ends the session. “Bringing you back to baseline....drip on?”

“Acknowledge.”

The two of you sit in silence while you wait to return to normal. After a moment, he speaks again.

“Thanks for your help. You’ve been a pleasure as always,” Abnesti smiles down at you.

You stand getting ready to leave, as you do, you can’t help but smile back.

Positive reinforcement. You cling to that as well.

#spiderhead #spiderhead 2022 #netflix spiderhead #steve abnesti #steve abnesti x reader #chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth x reader

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