#I'm back for five minutes and you're already attempting to murder me in my own house. How dare you.

[likesomekindofcheese]

May I request something with Brian May x American fem! Reader where they are friends with secret crushes on each other? It's the readers first Christmas in the UK and since she had a falling out with her folks, but only kept in touch with her brother and wasn't going to go back to America for the holidays and could afford to in the first place. Maybe he and the guys could try to do something to make this Christmas special. While Freddie plays Cupid since he could have been peeved/confused the reader kept her birthday secret because her last one in the US was a living hell. Even though the reader enjoys Christmas she awkwardly keeps to herself knowing her friends were celebrating with their own families and while not wanting to be a bother she could be unaware of the secret plan the guys truly have or something.

Christmasy fluff and serious angst(mentions of emotional abuse, attempted suicide and depression) that ends with fluff confession.

Pretty please and thank you so much!💖

Hey there! Was saving this ask for this season and PHEW this is very complicated! I may have to whittle it down but I hope you like it!

You sat by the fireplace when you heard a loud "SHIT!" from the kitchen.

Another voice called out "what is it, Fred!"

"Burned my finger!"

Brian let out a laugh.

"That's not that bad! No need to scream like you're getting fucking murdered!"

"Oh, shut up!"

It made you smile. You placed both hands over your mulled cider and took a sip. Already there was a record of some pretty piano.

Brian emerged, raising a hand to his head to scratch his curls.

"Are you alright?" you asked.

"Ask me five minutes later and I'll tell you yes! But you...Y/N...you've been quiet..." he said.

His eyes softened. He sat on the chair next to you. The fire kept crackling. The tree the three of you decorated had lights that would slowly go on and then fade and turn back onto their light, multicolor glow. You had to admit they looked lovely against Brian's cheekbones.

"It's just...this is my first Christmas in the UK and...it's not that it itself is bad at all I just..."

You let out a sigh and put down your mug.

"My friends are out there, back home...with their own families. And you have your own. Loving, safe, stable, supported, and mine..."

You lowered your face to look at your hands and not at him. It would make discussing this easier.

There was the sound of footsteps and both of your heads whipped out to see Freddie.

"I'm going to get something in the other room, will be back in a bit- probably stuck in the corner," he announced.

"Go on, Fred!" Brian said, waving his hand.

Once the door closed, Brian turned to you.

"You mean...when they...they..."

"They said all those cruel, awful things to me, all the time and...and so much...so much and...and the suicide attempt I...I can't even think about it and I..I shouldn't miss it, I shouldn't miss home and all this holiday crap about having to be home for the holidays and I can't ever go home!!" you cried.

You placed your face into your hands and let yourself cry. Brian got closer to you, he put a hand over your back softly, going "there, there dear..."

"It's alright...you have us...and me and Fred...we'll be your family. We'll take care of you, feed you, give you a couch if you need it. Deaky's an early riser so he'll knock on your door and drag you out at 7 am- just a warning!"

You let yourself smile from that. You let yourselves both release from the hug, looking into each other's eyes.

"And you...you've been a treat for me- er- us to get to know. You're funny, creative, smart...and fun to be with. You may not have your birth family, but you're not alone...you have us."

"And do I have you, Brian?" you asked.

"Yes, you have me too...wait, what's on my head?"

He looked up and let out a curse, his arms folding and his face turning pink. Fred conveniently walked over at the end of your conversation and pulled out some mistletoe he let dangle from his hand over your heads.

"You know the rules!" he chirruped.

"Y/N, I don't want to, uh, make you uncomfortable!" Brian began to stammer.

"It's okay, you can kiss me!" you relented.

Letting out an exhale, he gave you a quick, chaste- but gentle- kiss.

"About time! Should we hear a happy announcement, soon?" Fred asked.

"Bugger off and don't let our dinner burn! Y/N's been looking forward to it all week!" Brian insisted.

Fred walked back to the kitchen.

Your heart racing, feeling bold, you went up to speak quietly in Brian's ear.

"I have to tell you...Brian I...If there was anyone I could be tricked to be under the mistletoe with- I'm glad it's you!"

He blinked. His face still flushed.

"I...I uh, agree...Y/N. Tomorrow there's an ice skating rink...can we go there?"

"You mean as a date? Then...then yes!" you agreed.

You both smiled and squeezed hands. The cadence of the record player finished into nothing as the snow beat against the window. For once, all really was merry and bright.

[simulvcra]

@aevyternal​ : “  the unfortunate truth is,  i think i’d forgive any flaw in a person if they loved me enough.  ” // just more misc memes.

      For several long , drawn seconds ( grains suspended in an otherworldly phantasmal hour glass , diamond dust in bitterly cold coerthan dawn )  — silence is the only answer that dares to greet such a weighted revelation. It goes into the night , sang and surely heard , one half of a song made for vaulted cathedral halls or the whispered cadence of bedside confessionals, annointed by salt water cheeks.

In those moments , where his pale gaze falls to watch his companion , guilt twists like fingers through dark satin sheets. A pugilists fist against a poorly healed side.

      For what could anyone readily say to revelations borne of the starved heart ? Which has learned to flinch instead of beat ?

Who could decry such a harsh truth ? Weren’t they all victims of that statement , in ways that were distinctly profound and profane. How many could truthfully, boldly denounce crooked hands ( claws of venom , burning brands in waiting ) if they only ever reached for your own in a lovers most passionate embrace , soothing away the aches they so gladly inflicted upon the sacrificial lambs upon their global altar. Bare knuckles against the softest , vulnerable parts , makeshift armour against the crueller demons still afoot.

      He catches himself , inelegant as a bumbling babe at foot opposed to the masters . But to the amateur observer , he is ever the artful master of his own design. His steps never miss their mark , he is merely a silent party. A statue until bidden to live.

Hands , for once divested of their protection , search for her smaller hand ( they remind him of porcelain , marble , bone. Brittle and beautiful. ) and bring it into the clutch of his scarred ones. Offers a smile that for all intents and purposes is the same smile he gives any other day , but to him , it flies as well as a swan with a broken wing.

      “ Ebony  — “ He starts , stops.

“ You need to be kinder to yourself. “ He decides to say, eventually. Pink eyes both bright and forlorn. “ That kind of love would make a ghost out of you , and we both have enough of those to fill a graveyard between us. “ 

[sirenascales]

-> double black [part three] 18+

-> Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader x Dazai

-> Who knew getting fired from work could lead to this?

-> Content: SMUT, slight angst, violence, murder, swearing

A man is murdered and things get interesting as the investigation starts. [Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader x Dazai]

2,981 words

note: no smut in this one hehe, but things are gonna get fun. enjoy!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Final || masterlist

"Hey... are you okay?" Kenji asked me a few days later, noticing the scowl on my face and realizing that I had been tapping my nail on my desk repeatedly for the last fifteen minutes. "You seem... pissed?"

I grunted, closing my eyes and slowly taking a deep breath. "I'm okay, Kenji. Just having a bad day." The others shared looks with each other, but chose not to pry. The frown on my face never left, my fists clenched as my blood continued to boil.

Then that all went away, when I felt a gentle hand against the back of my neck. I looked over at Dazai, who had lazily rolled himself in his chair over to me. He grinned. "I could see the steam coming from your ears!"

His hand never left my neck, moving until his fingers loosely wrapped around the column of my throat. Strangely enough, my anger had completely gone away when he touched me, and it felt nice to finally breathe. "With the day I'm having..." I sighed, the whole world seemingly melting away, Dazai's thumb stroking along my jaw.

Kunikida was clearly unimpressed, the man gritting his teeth. Atsushi looked shocked, his face tinged red while Ranpo and Kenji just touched their own necks gently.

"Does she like to get choked?"

"Who knows, man."

"Hey, I know what will make you feel better," Dazai suggested and I tilted my head, waiting for him to continue. He leaned in and would have kissed me if it weren't for a book smacking right into the side of Dazai's head.

"Do that on your own time! We have a schedule!" Kunikida fumed while I quickly turned around to cover my face, simply to muffle down my obnoxious laughter.

"Oh, dude!"

"Kunikida! What was that for!"

"Public indecency!"

Dazai rubbed his head, whining from the pain while I just giggled behind my hands. Dazai almost looked betrayed at me laughing at him and I just shrugged my shoulders. "Hey, that's what you get for trying to play grab ass."

I purposely ignored Dazai's pouty face for the rest of the day, the man clearly upset that he didn't get to kiss me. I shook my head, glaring at him from across the office while threateningly pointing my pen at him.

"Work, dammit."

"I don't wanna! Bella, don't be so mean!"

I fixed him another glare before going back to my work, finishing up the final report for the last case we were on. After going through and making sure it was perfect, I saved and emailed it to the President, just as the door to the office slammed opened.

"He's gone!"

"Keiko?! What the he- Keiko, what's wrong?"

I stood up from my desk, my best friend standing before me in a frazzled state. She looked extremely distressed, tears falling down her face. I rushed to her, the woman collapsing into my arms as we both fell to our knees.

"He's gone!" she exclaimed before she started to sob into my chest. "He's gone! He's gone! He's gone!"

"Keiko..." I looked up at the others with wide eyes, them looking on with alarm. I turned back to Keiko, rubbing on her back as she continued to sob.

Taichi was killed. He was found in an alleyway with multiple stab wounds. Keiko had received a call from the police after his identity was discovered, the detectives revealing the tragic news to her.

"I'm so sorry, Keiko..." I said to her softly, sitting with her in one of the small areas of the office, separated by simple dividers. "... how the hell did this happen? We just saw him last night when he dropped you off at my place..."

Keiko had finished crying, but the terrible sadness in her eyes was a clear indication of how devastated she was. I clenched my fists, feeling my anger from earlier building up again.

"I'm going to have to make my statement," Keiko said softly, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Do you want me to go with you to the station?" I asked and she shook her head.

"No... it's okay..."

"The thing is, you are also one of the last people to see him alive," Kunikida spoke up, standing by with Dazai and Atsushi. "You'll have to give your account too..."

Sighing deeply, I absentmindedly reached under my skirt, pausing when I didn't feel my knife against my thigh where it usually was. I gritted my teeth, shaking my head to myself before I went back to rubbing on Keiko's back in an attempt to comfort her.

Soon, Keiko and I left the Agency and headed on over to the police station. We gave our accounts of the night before when we last saw Taichi, us talking separately with a different agent.

"Now you know, Mr. Kamiya was in the Port Mafia," the agent said and I nodded. "And they have quite a bit of history with your little organization."

I didn't like the condescending tone in his voice, but I kept my cool. "Of course, but none of us have anything to do with this man's murder, and you have no evidence proving otherwise."

He just rolled his eyes at me. "Well, this is all we need. You're free to go."

I nodded before quietly making my way out of the interview room. I met with Keiko, who looked like she had been crying again and I pulled her into a comforting hug. "It's okay. This will be over soon."

Later on, I found myself back at the Agency, Keiko choosing to go home, despite my protests. My head was buried in my arms, not moving as I felt someone put their hand on my head, lightly scratching my scalp.

"Looks like the police will keep on investigating Taichi's murder," Dazai said and I peeked one eye out to find him leaning against my desk. "Thing is, I'm sure the Port Mafia will also be conducting their own investigation. Ohh, this is gonna get interesting~"

"So is it better if we stay out of this, then?" I asked, sitting up in my chair. "I mean, unless we're asked... we don't have to touch this."

Dazai regarded me for a moment, a mysterious smile growing on his face before he just threw his hands up nonchalantly. "I get it, you were friends with the guy."

"Not really," I corrected him immediately. "Keiko is my friend."

"Ohhhhh," Dazai just hummed, tapping his forefinger on his chin. "Well anywho, the police are gonna have their hands full if the Port Mafia really gets involved! It wouldn't hurt to help, right?"

I hesitated, a small smile soon growing on my face as I nodded. "Sure. Let's start tomorrow."

"How about tonight instead?!" Dazai asked with a cheerful smile while I just glared at him angrily, the two of us now standing in the middle of the crime scene.

"Why do I even bother believing a word you say?" I hissed at him, attempting to kick the man but he quickly side stepped me. I gritted my teeth. "Ugh, plus it's already dark, Dazai. It's gonna be harder to find any evidence." Indeed, the only light we were getting was from the full moon up ahead, and the shitty lights above the side door of one of the buildings. "Are we even allowed to be here?"

Dazai simply nodded his head. "Of course, we were assigned to this case, afterall."

"... you told me the police were keeping it," I said, eyebrows twitching in annoyance. Was he serious?!

Dazai just smiled and threw his hands up. "Guess I was mistaken," he hummed and I sighed deeply, rubbing my temples.

"Okay so... what now?" I asked, finally looking around the crime scene. It was obviously taped off and Taichi's body was removed. All there was left was a giant stain of blood, which I now looked at with a worried face.

"Just by the nature of the crime alone, we can easily say it was a crime of passion. If this was a local gang or rival, he would have been shot, or even jumped and beaten to death. Official word is, he was stabbed over sixty times," Dazai explained, standing beside me and staring at the blood. "There is no sign of the murder weapon, no other physical evidence besides Taichi's dead body and blood. We'll have to wait for forensics to give us their final word, but I can tell... this might not be so easy to crack."

I nodded solemnly, my fists clenched tightly.

"Or... will it?"

I took in a deep breath before turning and sending Dazai a sheepish smile. "Well, we got our work cut out for us, huh."

Dazai chuckled softly. "Yeah, but that's what makes it fun."

"So Dazai," I started, crossing my arms over my chest. "I have a question."

"I may have an answer."

"Have you ever killed anyone before?"

Silence followed after my question and I turned to look at the man. His hands were in his pockets, a weird smile on his face. "I have. Quite a few."

For some reason, the answer didn't shock me as much as it probably should. "How do you sleep at night?"

More silence, before Dazai stood before me. I looked up at him, heart thudding when I saw that same dim look in his eyes. His lips curled up and he leaned in, making me hold my breath as he whispered.

"Like a baby."

My breath hitched in my throat, eyes going wide. I licked my lips nervously, nodding my head slowly. "I see..." Just... wow.

"You know, I could have gone without seeing your ugly face, Dazai."

A look of distaste grew on Dazai's face as the newcomer came sauntering up to us. He wore black, a familiar hat resting upon a familiar head of red hair. Blue eyes stared daggers into my coworker, mouth curled into a displeased snarl.

"Ah, Chuuya! It is a small world, after all," Dazai sang, the glare in his eyes not meeting the jovial tone of his voice.

Chuuya scoffed. "I thought you'd be fucking dead by now, but of course, you always love to piss me off."

"'Cause it's so much fun!"

The two men clearly didn't like each other, but that was the least of my concerns. All I could do was stare at Chuuya in shock. Of course, Taichi was one of his subordinates, he would want to find out who his killer was and get retribution. That was just how the Port Mafia worked.

I gulped, carefully trying to back away from the two. They could stand there and bicker with each other all they want. I had to get out of here before-

"Oh wait, meet my new friend!" Dazai wrapped his arm around my neck, wrestling me to his side effortlessly as I tried to break free. He knew I was trying to escape and made sure that didn't happen.

"Hey, let me go!" I hissed, not pleased with being pulled into a damn chokehold.

"Not until you meet my old friend!"

Chuuya growled. "We're not friends, damn traitor!"

Traitor? I grew confused, eyebrows pinched even as I fought against Dazai's hold. Chuuya narrowed his eyes when he finally got a good look at me.

"Hey... do I know you?"

Crap. "Uh..." I laughed sheepishly, Dazai now confused as he looked back and forth between the two of us.

"You know each other?"

"W-well..."

"We met a few months ago," Chuuya spoke up, his eyes widening in realization before his eyes narrowed and he snarled.  "Knew you couldn't be trusted."

"Wait!" I exclaimed, making it out of Dazai's hold and holding my hands up to Chuuya. "I swear... I didn't even know about the ADA when we met. It was just as I said that night, I lost my job and was there to drink my pain away."

"Tch," Chuuya sounded, his eyes still narrowed. "And now you work with this traitorous bastard. Lucky you."

There was that word again.

"What do you mean by traitor?" I asked, at the same time Dazai spoke up.

"How the hell do you two know each other?"

Chuuya scoffed. "I fucked her."

I squeaked, Dazai's eyebrows raising.

"Interesting. I'm fucking her too."

I squeaked again, waving my hands wildly before either man could respond. "D-don't we have a murder to solve, huh?!"

It fell on deaf ears, the two men staring each other down, all before their eyes were on me and my trembling form.

"You know... I feel like we've been here before, Chuuya."

Said man snorted. "When you fucked my girls?"

"Like you haven't fucked mine?"

Okay, now I was confused. "Um... I don't understand..."

"Oh yeah!" Dazai exclaimed a bit too cheerfully, putting a hand on Chuuya's shoulder, earning a withering glare. "Chuuya and I go way back. Were the best of friends."

"No we weren't."

"We were partners! The best there was!"

"... tch."

Partners? What the hell did Dazai mean by partners? I looked between the two men, lips formed in a thin line. Then, the answer struck and my mouth fell open in shock. There was no fucking way... Dazai? I swallowed thickly, shaking my head for this was not the time or place to be thinking about this.

"Okay... I can only imagine just how deep this shit goes," I started, the men looking at me curiously. "But we have a murder to solve. Whatever... this," I gestured my hand between the two of them. "Is... it can wait. Y'all can make out or whatever later."

That was my attempt at breaking whatever tension there was, but I was the only one cackling when Dazai and Chuuya immediately protested.

"I will kill you!"

"That is not funny, bella!"

"Ugggh, I don't have the time for this. I should have known that the ADA would be investigating this, and that just pisses me off. You two should just stay out of my way," Chuuya said, hands in his coat pocket. "Though you... word is that you were one of the lasts who saw Taichi alive."

My heart dropped when Chuuya looked at me and I frowned. "And I told the police that I saw him when he dropped Keiko off at my apartment. There are cameras in the lobby that will show that I never left the apartment. We even ordered food in."

"Fuck. And there is no other evidence right now. No weapon, no hints of DNA. It's like the killer just vanished," Chuuya said to himself and I glanced at Dazai, seeing the amused look on his face.

"What if it was an ability user?" Dazai suggested. Chuuya gritted his teeth.

"Shut up! I don't need your help!"

"Really? Are you sure?" Dazai taunted the red head, quickly ducking when Chuuya swung his foot in a wide kick. Dazai didn't get hit, but the wall behind him took the damage, large cracks forming on the surface. I swallowed thickly. Just how strong was Chuuya?

"H-hey," I started nervously, foolishly getting between the two men before they could start a fight. "We're after the same goal, right? Why don't we just... work together?" The fierce glares I got made me shrink. "O-o-or! Or not! That's fine! Just don't fight!"

"Bella is right... fighting is so beneath me," Dazai said wistfully and I sighed deeply.

"Dazai, I'm being serious. This man was my best friend's boyfriend. I want to find his killer too."

"Just stay out of it," Chuuya growled. "This has nothing to do with either of you. The Port Mafia will handle this."

"Let's make it a race then." Both Chuuya and I were dumbfounded as we looked at Dazai, waiting for him to continue. "A competition to see who figures this out, the ADA or the Port Mafia."

"Dazai... what the hell?" I asked in disbelief, Chuuya stepped closer to him.

"What's the prize?"

Dazai smirked, raising a bandaged hand and pointing right to me. "Our bella."

My jaw dropped. "You're fucking kidding me?"

"No," Dazai answered rather seriously. "I'm not."

Chuuya is strangely quiet, his unreadable eyes now trained on me. I fidgeted under his gaze, looking away to find Dazai staring at me all the same. I shivered. I hated this; hated being part of such a stupid competition as a prize, and I hated that I fucking loved it. I screwed my eyes shut.

"Deal," Chuuya finally said and I gasped when I felt his familiar leather clad fingers cup my face, him moving my head to make me look at him. "Gotta say, I didn't expect to see you again, but I'm glad our paths have crossed a second time." I became extremely flustered and Chuuya smirked. "Tell me, Dazai. What was it like having my sloppy seconds?"

I gasped sharply with Dazai only laughing darkly, suddenly feeling his presence behind me. "Can't say it was too bad..." he answered and I just completely clocked out, breath hitching as I felt a bit embarrassed. And turned on. They knew exactly what to say to get me riled up.

"Okay, I'm leaving! It's late and I still haven't eaten dinner yet! Bye!" I was frantic trying to rush away from them as fast as I could. I didn't even turn back when Dazai called after me.

"See you tomorrow, bella!" Dazai chuckled softly, watching me disappear, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"A race? Really?" Chuuya asked incredulously, eyes piercing as he stared at his old partner.

"It will just make this all the more fun," Dazai hummed.

"You're a bastard," Chuuya scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Just stay out of my way. Taichi getting himself killed just ruined the investigation we had on him."

"Oh?" Dazai raised his eyebrows, amused. "Was he being a naughty boy?"

"Shut the fuck up, Dazai."

-End

I have this headcanon that Dazai and Chuuya definitely stole each other's girls and even shared them and had threesomes when they were partners and ya'll CANNOT tell me otherwise.

[boop-le-snoot]

SPELLBOUND I dr strange

Dr Stephen Strange x punk!f!reader

[no y/n, no "you", no name, no reader description - piercings & alternative style of clothing mentioned, race/age/body type neutral, she/her pronouns]

please let me know if you want to be added to my dr. strange taglist!

Joining the "meet-ugly" series, we've got Reader graffiti-ing (for a good cause!) the Sanctum on a cold, rainy night. Stephen is pissed but then sympathetic. Snark all around and then you get laid. That's it that's the story. Word count ~6.6k. Explicit smut, light magical bondage, dom!Strange. Fic soundtrack - Siouxie and the Banshees - Spellbound.

On a terrible, horrible, no-good, cold, rainy and windy November day, Sorcerer Supreme Stephen Strange was feeling - surprisingly well, considering... Considering his workload and the ragtag team of buffoons he was forced to cooperate with. Something something, damage minimisation and faster response time. It wasn't like Stephen actually listened to Rogers' monotonous monologues. Stephen only agreed to accompany the Avengers on missions because Wong had started ignoring his calls for back-up.

A relaxing evening with a book or two, topped off with a cup of the best Ceylon tea and a cozy atmosphere brightened up by happily dancing flames in the fireplace. The tension seemed to melt off the sorcerer like last springtime ice; his shoulders sagged and the persistent frown smoothed his usually disgruntled expression into something neutral, if not outright peaceful.

Wong had left the sorcerer to enjoy some alone time by himself, having had a strong feeling that very evening was bound to be one of the rare, calm ones, not an interdimensional threat in sight.

By the time midnight rolled in, sleep wasn't on Stephen's mind, the book he was reading had consumed his mind and pulled him inside of it. The exact moment the defense wards around the Sanctum had begun to signal distress to the Sorcerer Supreme escaped him; he attributed the sudden flux of anxiety for excitement from discovering the ins and outs of a new spell.

After some moments passed with Stephen still engrossed, the Sanctum itself had started bugging it's defender. With a shout of surprise, Strange jumped up in the air, book flying, landing on the couch as the man rubbed his arm where concentrated magic of the ancient house had stung him. Taking long, irritated strides, not bothering to put on any additional clothing layers, Strange stormed off towards the main entrance, muttering to himself, "One evening... Just one evening in peace..." Adding a few choice expletives as the door flung open on it's own.

Strange had cast a spell on his way outside, prepared to surprise the intruder but the magic flickered as he spotted a small figure, dressed in all black, holding something shiny to the outer wall of the building. The person appeared oblivious to his appearance, hood drawn over the face tightly. They were shivering every time the wind howled along the street but didn't relent in their mischief: the shiny object in their hand left a neon red trail, reflecting just enough to make out separate letters under the dim light of a nearby streetlight..

"What. Are. You. Doing?" Stephen knew his voice could be... Intimidating. He spoke louder than necessary for exactly that reason: he wasn't about to magically attack some kid, he'd much rather scare the little brat shitless.

To his surprise, the hooded head turned almost mockingly slow, revealing only what could be called as a bad case of racoon eyes on a feminine face. The bottom half of the face was partially hidden by a black-and-white checkered scarf but even with it, Stephen had no trouble seeing the various metallic piercings that decorated the woman's face. It was an adult woman, he was sure of that - the eyes staring fiercely back at him were too standoffish to belong to a punk kid. "Spray-painting your house, dumbass," The voice confirmed Stephen's theories: even carried away by the howling wind, it carried enough venom in it to kill a snake.

"No, you aren't," With the newfound revelation, Strange had no qualms quickly casting a spell to tie the little vandal's hands together with a rope of concentrated magic. "I'm calling the cops," He announced making a beeline for the phone he had left in the Sanctum's living room.

In his blind annoyance, the sorcerer had forgotten that the spell he had cast essentially forbade the victim from being further than ten feet away from the caster; loud cursing followed his footsteps as the vandal was forcibly dragged into the house behind the sorcerer, none too gently either, as Stephen's ruined mood made his strides that much longer and quicker.

Abruptly, the man stopped, turning around and suddenly recieving a chestful of petty criminal; a collective oof was overshadowed by the Sanctum's doors loudly banging shut as if the house itself didn't want to let outside any more warmth than strictly necessary. Two round, shining eyes stared upwards at the tall sorcerer, growing increasingly concerned.

He blinked a few times, arm still awkwardly outstretched to prevent the woman from toppling over both of them. She backed away slowly, eyeing him with wariness. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I thought this building was abandoned," She spoke slowly as if not to startle him. "And I know you're one of the good guys, I saw you on the news, but can I just go?"

One, her tone was growing increasingly panicked, raising in pitch, eyes darting across the room and to the magic binding her wrists. Two, Stephen felt his face heat up the second he realised the... Inconvenient situation. He had forcefully dragged a woman into his house with her wrists bound and slammed the door shut behind her.

"I'm... Sorry," He mumbled, feeling tongue-tied, all too aware of the sudden influx of blood rushing to his cheeks. "I didn't mean to... Frighten you," He spoke after clearing his throat and raising his hands in surrender. The binds around her wrists fell with the gesture and the woman immediately began rubbing her wrists with stiff fingers. "Do you, um, need help getting home?" Unused to finding himself in such an awkward situation, Stephen looked anywhere but the woman herself.

"No," She replied firmly, just as a particularly strong gust of wind rattled and banged the wooden blinds outside one of the windows. The woman jumped slightly, her breath loudly stuttering in the quiet hallway. "Man, how do you even live here? It's fucking creepy," She more muttered to herself rather than addressed him, but Stephen heard it nonetheless.

"It takes some getting used to," He replied honestly, eager to dissipate the alarmed awkwardness. His brain wasn't being helpful at all: the sorcerer was torn between offering the woman a place to warm up - she was shivering, dripping icy rainwater right on the hardwood floors - and simply conjuring a portal to transport her right into the closest subway station.

"I bet," She snorted almost mockingly. "I've been in a lot of old abandoned buildings and this is by far the weirdest one even if it's not really abandoned," The woman appeared to feel equally awkward now that they've had established Stephen wasn't a threat. She hid her shaking hands in the sleeves of her oversized bomber jacket, standing almost perfectly still, a chameleon to the twilight of the hallway in her dark clothes.

"This place is saturated with magic which could be unsettling to a person who hasn't been around it much," Stephen found himself explaining the phenomenon, much like his teachers in Kamar-Taj had told it to him. "Would you like to dry off at least?" He shot her a quick look; the woman certainly didn't look or feel like a magical threat.

She fiddled with the sleeves, looking torn between fear and curiosity; it was clear that the woman was intrigued by magic and her eyes, while partially hidden by make-up and the hood of her sweatshirt, were bright and clever. "Um, you're not gonna violently murder and eat me, right?" She asked timidly, but her mind was obviously already made up.

"I eat little girls for dinner," Stephen gave into the urge to roll his eyes, turning around and motioning her to follow him. The t-shirt he was wearing didn't do much for protecting him from the pouring rain and gushing wind outside and the five minutes he'd spent outside of the house made him crave the warmth of the fireplace.

"I'm bitter, you'll choke," She replied petulantly without missing a beat but obediently followed him into the room, leaving wet footprints on the floor.

The living room greeted them with a brightly crackling fire, a gust of warmth surrounding the couch and the immediate space around it. The woman didn't attempt touching the various magical knick-knacks placed haphazardly throughout the room, only stared at everything with eyes as wide as saucers. The childlike wonder was endearing to see, the sorcerer had to begrudgingly admit to himself.

"I suggest you place your shoes and jacket closer to the fire for them to dry faster," Stephen finally interrupted her mute staring contest with one of the magic objects hanging on the far wall. It was a battleaxe of Asgardian origin and Stephen felt slightly uncomfortable with the interested way the woman was eyeing the weapon.

"Interesting collection you have there, count Dracula," Round eyes met his own, the owner slowly unzipping and stripping off the outer layers of her clothing. Under the spacious jacket was a no less baggy hoodie and a pair of black, tight-fitting pants. The woman's neck was adorned by a variety of silver chains and a choker with spikes at least half an inch long; the tips of her shaky fingers were painted black.

The jacket was placed on a chair closest to the fireplace. Her shoes went next - massive, black platformed monstrosities - and she immediately became that much smaller, losing a good inch or two of height. Her hood fell, revealing a messy bed head and the black color smeared under her eyes, proving she'd spent a good few hours outside in the pouring rain.

"Aren't you a little too old for this?" Stephen retorted back, vaguely gesturing at the style of her clothing. He wasn't very happy about being snarked at in his own damn house.

The woman chuckled good-naturedly, guardedness paving way to genuine amusement. "I could say the same about you. Don't you all graduate Hogwarts at seventeen?"

Despite himself, the corners of Stephen's mouth lifted upwards. The tone of her voice was teasing, nothing like Stark's poisonous mockery of Stephen's skills. "I guess that makes us even," Strange invitingly gestured to the loveseat opposite his couch, picking up a fleece blanket to give to the shivering woman. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

A shy smile stretched her lips as she ducked her head in a nod, gratefully palming the blanket and immediately curling under it into a snug ball in a corner of the loveseat. The woman looked so cozy, Stephen's mood raised by a smidgen seeing the satisfied sigh that left her mouth as the temperature around her climbed. He might have changed careers but the doctor in him would always be satisfied with a content and healthy patient.

Returning with a steaming hot mug of herbal liquid, Strange found the woman poking away at her phone, concentrated and unaware of her surroundings. He cleared his throat and she lifted her eyes, skimming briefly over his shaking hands to settle on his face, the look not long enough to be considered rude but not brief for him to ignore it completely.

"Thank you," Her voice was quiet as she accepted the tea, gently blowing into the mug. He didn't think twice before promptly shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and that gave him away: the woman's voice had reacquired the teasing tones as she very obviously attempted to distract him: "I'm surprised that Muggle technology works here."

"We have wi-fi," He snorted, secretly grateful for the distraction. "I can't help but wonder what prompted you to pursue your... Artistic endeavours... On my house," Strange rumbled lowly, allowing himself the curiosity. In all his years of living there, not one single person attempted a petty crime on the property.

The woman's face darkened, eyes suddenly boring into the fire, rivaling it's intensity. "The building opposite you? There's a small newspaper, yellow press, gossip column type of shithole," The venom in her voice was sudden and surprising, startling Stephen into paying attention. "For the past few weeks they've been backing up a company that dumps toxic waste right into the North River. It's been making local strays sick," The more she spoke, the higher Stephen's eyebrows rose. "Now even reputable sources are citing that piece of journalistic toilet paper and mayor is now 'reconsidering'," The last word was enunciated particularly poisonously, "The investigation launched into the company. We've been handing out leaflets and my friend acquired information that there is going to be a live TV stream in front of the building. I was hoping the cameras would capture the message," She finished in one breath, a ball of shivering punk. It was unclear if the woman was still cold or the shivers came from the anger inside of her. It was obvious she was passionate about the subject.

The concern quickly grew into confusion, the sorcerer finally settling on fond amusement. "And how would graffiti help to convey your message?" He couldn't help but question the actions of the woman.

"It's punk, writing "you're killing innocents" in red paint. People notice loud statements like that," She replied confidently, a stubborn tilt to her chin. "Animals feel pain too." She added, seeing the sorcerer's sceptical face.

Well, he couldn't exactly disagree. In theory, she was right in both of her statements. Only people more often than not chose to turn a blind eye to things that didn't inconvenience them directly. There were more efficient ways to raise awareness than vandalizing property. He told her that much, expecting a scoff and an eyeroll in return.

"Yeah, and we've already sent out dozens of letters and petitions to the mayor," The eyeroll came, but not for the reason he thought it would. "This is literally, like, the last resort before I go down there and burn their fucking warehouse down. I know the people who are forced to put down the suffering animals, and honestly, I'm this much away from willing to become a felon if that means it stops all of that bullshit," She wildly gestured with her free hand, bracelets and chains rattling with the force of her movement. "Judging by your sunny attitude you're either a lawyer or a doctor, so you must know how it is to see misdeeds being done and feeling utterly helpless," The once-over she gave him - the sorcerer didn't miss it, surprised at the woman's perceptiveness.

"I see," He nodded, more to himself. "And yes, I used to be a doctor," The words, speaking in past tense, didn't come easy to him even after all this time. He mourned the loss of his motor skills, the loss of his career and a painless existence.

"So you must know how it is, to have to choose between your own comfort and the well-being of others," She remarked conversationally. "With that superhero side-gig you've got going on." Apparently, her perceptiveness was just that good. The woman didn't question the past tense of his career, didn't ask bothersome questions - obviously, she put two and two together. What kind of doctor had malfunctioning hands?

"Unfortunately, I do," Stephen nodded kindly, sipping his own cup of tepid tea. "I have to admit, I am surprised," The sorcerer was willing to throw a bone to the strange woman: she was nothing if not kind and polite even after thinking he was abducting her for illicit actions. "You are very perceptive."

The laugh that resonated in the wide room was melodic, playful. "Yeah, I get that a lot. Usually people can't see past my choice of clothing, thinking that I'm some stupid druggie or whatnot," With a wave of her hand, the woman expressed a great deal of irritation. "To be honest, the more people like me I meet, the more disappointed I am in what society considers normal. Every day I lean closer and closer to anarchy..." The last part of the sentence was said almost dreamily.

The sorcerer found himself smiling genuinely, not at all in disagreement with the woman's words. He'd himself once been a member of a social circle his newfound acquaintance would probably enjoy tarnishing; the subsequent accident and injury had shown him the less pleasant side of that part of humanity. As a disabled person, life wasn't even half as good - pity and mockery followed him for months on end, making recovery seem as unreachable as the horizon. Still, the opportunity to tease the little punk was not to be wasted: "You're going to argue ethics with an ageless sorcerer?" Technically, he didn't lie. If he wanted to, he could stop his aging process at any time, just like his old mentor had done.

Her eyebrows rose, eyes sliding over his reclined body with a comically slow speed. It was like her stare left a lingering sensation. "Looking not half bad for your age, mister magician," The little smirk looked positively mischievous on her face, making the woman appear akin to a pixie up to no good.

It wasn't as if Stephen didn't know he was considered attractive. After the accident, it was simply hard to see himself that way, shaking, clumsy hands and all. Yet the temptation was too strong; he gave into the harmless flirt with practiced ease. "Magic," He snorted, making little sparks burst from his hands in an array of colorful dots.

The woman's bottom lip disappeared behind a row of white teeth. "I have quite a lot of inappropriate comments and questions right now," The tone of her voice was once again back to it's default: teasing and defiant, like the energy that surrounded her. "How about you tell me about that mighty axe on your wall? Did you borrow it from Thor to frighten intruders?"

The confession raised a laugh from the sorcerer, the subsequent question throwing the man into a hearty full-belly cackle. The notion of borrowing a weapon from the hot-headed god was an absurd one on it's own; just as if not less likely was the idea of having magical artifacts scattered around the Sanctum for the sole purpose of spooking someone. He told the woman that much, explaining the importance of conservation of magical artifacts and unavailability of them to the general human populace.

Curious as a child, the woman prodded him for an interesting story; feeling jovial, Stephen obliged, finding himself surprisingly invested in the storytelling process as she looked up at his pacing form in utter captivation. If only all the apprentices he'd had to teach would have been half as open and interested in his teachings, he found himself thinking as he paused for the woman to gather her wits. There had been a time when he felt the same way, going first time into a new dimension, setting foot into a different plane of existence, but those feelings had dulled under the burden of protecting their current reality.

Hostile cross-dimensional entities weren't willing to give sorcerers weekends off. There wasn't any time to explore places that weren't necessary. He told the woman that much, finally settling down beside her, elbows on his knees and face warming up in the heat of the burning fireplace.

"Respectfully, that's bullshit," She huffed, untangling herself from the cocoon of blankets to place her empty mug on a nearby table. "If you had a doctor's license, you should know about professional burnout," The slightly whiny, chastising tone surprised Stephen. He didn't expect kindness from a stranger, and when he got it, he was clueless as how to act. "Even Iron Man and Captain America take vacations," She drove her point home, sitting down next to him. "I respect you and what you do for us simple folks but you gotta take care of yourself, too. An eternity living like that sounds awfully long."

"It is," He replied thoughtlessly, having came to the same conclusion ages ago. Having nothing more to add, nothing more to defend his lifestyle with, Strange and the woman settled into a thoughtful silence, each of them musing to themselves. The wind and rain outside howled, banging against the window with fury, little white droplets of hail banging against the glass. Getting the woman home in this weather, in the dead of the night wasn't an option anymore - they had spent a considerable amount of time talking and the darkness outside the window had only deepened. Stephen had lived in NYC long enough to know it wasn't safe even without magical threats. "I should prepare you a room. I cannot let you get home on your own in this time and weather," He looked to the side, finding the woman much closer to himself than expected. Under the smeared make-up and behind the baggy, unusual clothes, she was pleasant to the eye.

A friendly face, clever eyes, smile lines around her mouth. Hair that got into her face; she blew a strand away. "No offense, but I think your house is haunted. I don't think I'll be able to fall asleep."

"I thought you were a punk?" His lips involuntarily curved into a grin once again. Stephen was a smart-ass, he couldn't help it.

"Hey!" She exclaimed, offended, poking him in the bicep with a single finger. "Rude and mean wizard," She scoffed childishly, only succeeding in making Stephen laugh.

"I've been told so by multiple people," He replied without a hitch.

"How unfortunate," The woman levelled him with an unimpressed stare; her eyes, however, were smiling. The banter came to her as naturally as it did to him. "Then prepare to hear heavy metal because that's what I'm blasting to scare off the demons."

"Pfft," He scoffed, giving into the game. "I'll just turn off the heating in your room." Stephen retaliated against the woman.

It was her turn to roll her eyes. Something similar to a puppy's stare was directed at him after that - an absolutely unfair advantage, if someone would have asked him - not at all out of place on the woman's pixie-like features. "I'll find your room and stick my cold feet right under your blanket," She narrowed her eyes, pursing her lips and clenching her little fists.

Strange gasped, clutching his heart with a shaking hand. His whole body vibrated with barely contained laughter. "I'll portal-dump you in the Arctic if you do that," The dam broke: he started laughing at the woman who looked like a disgruntled, spooked bird, all ruffled, red-nosed and indignant.

"If I'm going down, I'm taking you with me," She mumbled in-between snorts of laughter. "That is the punk way."

Their joy bloomed in the shared space, amplified by the small distance between their bodies; knees almost touching and faces so close they could smell the other's perfume.

"By the punk way you mean doing stupid and reckless things?" The man asked her once their laughter died down; a single eyebrow raised, cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass and strands of silver at his temples glimmering in the warm firelight.

She couldn't tear her eyes away... And she didn't want to. "Yeah," She mumbled, acutely aware of the way she was ogling the man and having no power to stop it either. "That's the case..." Her eyes briefly skimmed down to his mouth, lingering for a second, causing her to wet her lips own in reflex.

"I must admit I've been accused of the same thing on several occasions," His gravely whisper settled somewhere deep in the woman's chest. "Does that make me one of your people?"

Words lost their meaning; useless, meaningless chatter, merely background noise for feelings running on borrowed time and secretive glances. Two people meeting in the least likely of circumstances, finding a common ground big enough to stand on their own two feet and light a fire.

Few years ago, Stephen Strange would have laughed at anybody who would have told him it was fate. These days, however, he knew, the universe worked in mysterious ways and he was smart enough to take the offering when it was brought to his doorstep on a silver platter.

Slowly and timidly, giving the woman a chance to withdraw, he brought his lips to her mouth, outstretching a gentle hand to place on the side of her face. The taste in his mouth was foreign, in the sense of a new discovery. She didn't resist his exploration, gently parting her lips and allowing his tongue to probe inside, meeting him in the same curious, unrushed way.

With stuttering breath, she grasped his bicep to steady herself in the wake of the tension that his kiss had brought between them. The sparks that started amid their chatter blossomed into embers; steady in their growing heat and hunger for more. The woman's hot mouth devoured Stephen, passion consuming them, awakening the primal territories of his brain he'd thought he'd forgotten existed.

One kiss was all it took for his trousers to feel uncomfortably tight; it felt like ages since he'd let desire consume him and steer his actions. His hand, shaky as it was, slid down her neck, memorising the gentle arch of it, to pull at the hem of her hoodie. Both of them gulped for breath in the seconds that the hoodie took to be flung over her head somewhere into the depths of the living room.

Two pairs of shining eyes met at the same moment, wordlessly begging for permission to continue. The cool air left a wake of gooseflesh in its wake, fine hairs standing up on the woman's arms, but her skin burned under Stephen's palms. Neither knew who ducked in for another kiss first; their lips met once again in a rush.

The woman's cool hands slid under his shirt shamelessly and the sorcerer shivered: not out of cold, he was hungry for the contact. He ached to feel the sweetness of a lover's touch. It had been too long. The woman matched his desire in that shameless, bold way by tugging on his clothes.

It was a question of time rather than effort for they seemed to be unable to break their kiss even for a second, getting tangled in the cotton of his shirt and the sleeves of his sweatshirt. The fumbling brought a smile to her lips, another mischievous teasing giggle dampened by the clothes going over his head. "The ghosts won't come to interrupt us, will they?" She asked breathily.

"No, but a... Colllegaue might," Stephen belatedly remembered of Wong's existence and his pesky habit of portaling right into the house. Throwing his own clothes somewhere in the vicinity of her hoodie, the sorcerer quickly conjured a portal to his bedroom, taking hold of the startled woman before she had the chance to utter a sound.

Being Sorcerer Supreme had its own privileges, including but not limited to a full master bedroom and a king size bed. Stephen's greater height certainly had made it useful; now, the man towered over the woman, pale chest on display and bright blue eyes sparkling in amusement as she attempted to gather her wits after the rapid relocation.

It proved to be harder that it seemed. Her eyes, curious and bright, traveled over his chest. Her hands trembled when she placed them over his pecs before gliding them down to his toned stomach, light and slow, like a feather. The woman was fascinated.

Stephen was torn between shyness and cockiness; the lack of recent experiences made his touch timid when he brushe stray hairs behind her ear. Watching the woman stand up on her tippy toes to kiss him was amusing. He allowed himself to lean into the kiss, adjusting a firmer grip on the sides of her face.

The bravery both of them seemed to need so desperately, they inhaled, the kiss once again growing in intensity. His arousal pressed insistently against her stomach, the feeling of hard flesh making her gasp. It twitched in response, Stephen's mind clouding with titillation and anticipation.

One hand wormed it's way into the man's hair, giving it a bossy tug, and he groaned lowly into the kiss. That made the woman smile, their teeth clashing briefly, before she pulled away. "You're too damn tall," She exclaimed and all Stephen could see were her red, kiss-flushed lips. "Have you considered donating a few inches to those in need? For example, me?" Her giggle was throaty.

One hand firmly planted on his chest, she used the other to promptly unbutton and unzip her belt and pants, various metals clanking as she did so. The noise pulled Stephen out of the lust-induced stupor. "I can spare more than a few inches," He cocked his eyebrow, snarking back almost reflexively. His arousal was obvious and not meager by any means.

"Dork," The woman replied, giving him an appreciative once-over.

The grin that spread on his face was somewhere between feral and teasing as he advanced onto her, bodily pushing her onto the spacious bed and draping himself over the woman's flushed body, nipping at her neck the moment a soft 'oof' escaped her at the sudden change of position. Not even minutes in and her face already adopted a blissed-out look, eyelashes fluttering and hips involuntarily looking for friction.

Stephen grazed the tender flesh of her collarbone with his teeth and she hissed, exhaled through her teeth with a barely audible moan. The sorcerer didn't bother hiding his grin. "Not so feisty now, are we?" He rumbled straight into her ear.

The shudder that went through her was more intense this time, chest pushing outward, desperate for more skin-on-skin contact. Stephen peeled the cup of her simple black bra with his teeth leaving a trail of pink-red marks in the wake, catching her nipple between his teeth and lavishing it with attention.

The harder he sucked the more she whined; one of his hands landed on her shoulder, pushing on it to hold the squirming woman steady. He was rewarded with a moan, pitched and long. The very same hand closed in around her throat, gently but firmly applying the exact amount of pressure needed to make her arch into his touch like an excited housecat.

"Be still, darling," Stephen's voice had dropped, low and raspy, bordering on a growl. The woman's own noises were delicious and he couldn't help but rut into her stomach, seeking friction, his own need beginning to burn impatiently.

"I literally can't, you're driving me fuckin' crazy," The woman stuttered out, fingers digging into his skin. She had no qualms about making him know exactly how much was she enjoying his ministrations and Stephen would be a rotten liar if he said it didn't give him a boost of confidence.

"I'll just have to restrain you, then," It was a joke more than anything but with the way she shivered, a full-bodied shake that had him involuntarily pressing his hips into her, there wasn't a chance he'd waste it.

Gathering his wits, Stephen's tongue peeked out in concentration as his hands produced a single, thick strand of magic. Glowing golden and orange, it bound the woman's wrists to the intricately carved headboard, loose enough for her to be able to bail those little hands into fists and move around a teensy bit.

Round and wide eyes stared upwards at Stephen, the woman's mouth hanging slightly open on a flushed face. "Jesus fuckin' Christ," The words were not audible; he made them out with his eyes as they were involuntarily drawn to her lips.

Stephen did not find it in himself to resist. "Not Jesus, just me," He smirked, claiming the woman in a bruising kiss, groaning when the woman bit into his bottom lip in retaliation against his smugness. He tugged off the remainder of her clothing, sitting back to observe the curves of her body, the way meager light of his bedroom played with the shadows in the arches of her limbs.

Following the smooth skin on her belly, Stephen's fingers dipped between her legs, stroking right into the dampness of where she was most sensitive. A choked up 'oh' was the only noise she produced, straining against his magic as she attempted to follow the movements of his hands with her hips. And she won the race fair and square - who was he to deny her such a simple pleasure?

Perhaps, he wasn't as precise or as skilled as he used to be before the accident, however the woman had no reservations, no complaints whatsoever, mewling each time his thumb brushed the sensitive bundle of flesh, fluttering her eyelashes so prettily. The hum Stephen made was contemplative: withdrawing his fingers produced a disappointed moan that quickly turned into a lewd noise when he popped his thumb into his mouth, tasting her arousal.

Delectable. "You're so sweet," He cooed, almost mockingly. She was getting desperate. "A little sharp but so fitting." With that, he used her lust-drunk state to rid himself of his clothes, leaning in to give a single broad lick to the length of her sex. She didn't disappoint, moaning loudly and wantonly, and he immediately withdrew, once again draping himself over her to share the taste of the woman with herself.

The intent wasn't to tease, not by any means. His erection glided easily between her lower lips thanks to the moisture, and he palmed it, putting pressure onto her clit with the head of his cock, brushing up and down with intent.

"Nghh, oh God," Was her eloquent response. The breathless, heated whisper went straight to his cock, making it twitch.

Stephen was getting impatient. The woman, too, was beginning to show signs of frustration. The veins on her arms stood out more than even when she fitfully strained against her restraints. The spell was a simple, even feeble thing, but with the force of his arousal feeding it with burning energy that was almost angry; it was as unlikely that she'd break it as it would be for the sorcerer himself to find the strength to stop himself from dipping the tip of his cock into the welcoming heat of her entrance.

"Take it," He ordered huskily , breathing heavily into her ear. The first few inches of Stephen's shaft were met with slight resistance but he took care to advance slowly, savouring the moment himself. She felt like Valhalla wrapped around him, all sweet, pulsating heat.

"Please," She whispered, ending the word with a broken noise, tilting her hips to speed up the process as more and more of his cock filled up the aching need. "Fuck, give me everything, give me all of it," One of her legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him into her.

The moment he bottomed out, it felt like stars had detonated behind his eyelids. The smell of her, iron, fresh cotton and rainwater, filled out his senses; an array of gasps into the crook of his neck and blood rushing to his ears. It was a a beautiful cacophony of lust that culminated where their bodies were joined. Push and pull, he gave an attempt at making shallow thrusts with his hips, encouraged by the sudden arch of her body.

She was at the sorcerer's mercy. "Tell me," He demanded. "Tell me how it feels," Suddenly, he wanted to hear, he wanted to know.

"Fuck," She mumbled and he thrust harder, eager to hear and swallow more of those delicious sounds. "It feels... Fuck, it feels... So deep..." Coherence had left out the window as she struggled to describe the feeling of being stretched out and stuffed full. Long and thick, Stephen's cock was a blessing of it's own, with negative side effects being a temporary loss of speech and train of thought. "Please don't stop, Stephen, don't..."

He worked harder, leaning into it as sweet sweat dripped from his forehead. Bracing himself on his forearms, trapping the panting woman against himself, the room filled with the sound of heated flesh slapping against flesh, squelching noises adding into the discord. Like fuel to the fire, the growling that started somewhere in the back of his throat enticed more and more broken whimpers.

The woman began fluttering around him, telltale signs of her upcoming culmination. Stephen had to grit his teeth - his own abs instinctively tightened in response, body eagerly awaiting the grip of her walls to take the sensations around his cock to new heights. "Hold it," He ordered hoarsely, wanting to prolong the ecstasy of it all.

"I can't, please, I can't, I'm so close," She moaned, wrapping her lips around the skin of his neck in an attempt to distract herself. The added sensations only made Stephen growl again, patience snapping with the force of a live wire, hips picking up a rhythmic tempo.

The sorcerer's fingers harshly tore the ropes of magic, freeing the woman from her bonds in a single second, giving her a brief moment to stretch her arms before the man once again gathered her in his arms. Compliant and lax, the woman's chest was flush to Stephen's, nipples brushing against his defined chest with each consequential thrust.

He was everywhere. He was so much larger, taller and broader than her, muscle and feral growls, shaking her to the core with each motion of his hips. She all but disappeared under him, pinned by him, his arms having slid under her back to pull her onto his cock like a ragdoll. Even as her eyes slid shut, all the woman could see, hear and sense was Stephen's burning body atop her own.

The coil in her belly grew tighter with each second.

"Look at me," Stephen ordered loudly and harshly, feeling the scales of his pleasure tip dangerously into non-return territory. He wanted to see her as she lost herself in bliss.

Unseeing eyes flew open. Round and wet, she was looking at him like a deer in headlights, the plush of her mouth wet, beads of sweat dripping down her temple. "Fuck me, oh God, I need to come," Once more, Stephen saw the words rather than heard.

Her mouth, a little weak, was what did it for him; with a primal growl fresh in his mouth, he uttered a single, "Come. Now," Finding it impossible to resist claiming her mouth for the final time.

The woman's body tensed, heels digging painfully into the small of his back as he swallowed the scream that her orgasm tore out of her throat. The soft flesh of her thighs shook. Buried inside of her to the hilt, Stephen let loose his own self-control, cock throbbing, as he emptied every bit of his seed into the deepest parts of her snug cunt. His vision briefly turned white-hot, emptying his mind of anything but the immediate space and time, the bliss overtaking him like a tsunami.

It seemed to go on forever. It seemed to last only a second.

Their mouths moved weakly against each other. In some areas, skin was broken, and it smarted, weaving a trail of bittersweet aches in the wake of their passion. Stephen couldn't manufacture the place where he could simply Be but in the moment, nothing mattered at all, just the tide of her breathing growing steady after having reached the so-needed release.

The woman kept melting under him. Eventually he had to move, soft flesh slipping from within her, invoking a soft gasp at the loss of their combined state of being. A kitten-like, disappointed mewl followed, the woman immediately draping her body to his side.

Stephen chuckled into the dim quiet of his room, a raspy, breathless and meaningless little noise.

"We'll think tomorrow, for now, just feel," She mumbled already half-asleep, and he would be damned if that didn't sound like poetry to him.

Stephen Strange taglist: @mostly-marvel-musings @lonesomewritings @bethanyzed @persephonehemingway @the-gayyy-bible @sapphicnoodle69 @letsby

[allegra-writes]

"TKN"

Peter Parker x Anti-hero!Reader

General audiences

Warnings: None

Part XIII of the "Mercy" Series

SERIES MASTERLIST | MY MASTERLIST

"Secrets only to those you can trust.

You better not break the Omerta..."

TKN - Rosalia f. Travis Scott

72 hours. That's how long you and Peter had been on the run. And in those 72 hours, Peter had gone through more new experiences than in a whole year as an avenger: He had joined the mile high club, only to five minutes later jump from said plane at cruise speed. He had illegally entered a country, broke into a department store and even shaved his whole head to completely change his appearance. He had celebrated his and yours new freedom with sangria, and more lovemaking at the beach under the stars... 

But this? Being held at gunpoint by a tiny girl with murder in her eyes and superhuman reflexes? That was, sadly, nothing new. 

It was like watching a dance, the way your high kick sent the gun in her left hand flying, as the blonde rolled out of your reach too fast for you to get a hold of the other gun on her right. You avoided a punch to your midriff, as she jumped away from your knife. And your boyfriend saw, helpless, as it was shot out of your hand by a bullet fired with millimetric precision to its blade. But he had been instructed under no uncertain terms to stay out of the confrontation, and by now he knew better than to disobey you. 

"Don't you know what they say about bringing a knife to a gunfight?" The girl quipped, heavy ucranian accent lacing her words.

You smirked,

"They only say that cause a knife is only as good as the one who wields it, тетя Lena… Are you sure you're better with a gun than I am with a knife?"

She rolled her eyes at your cockiness, knowing full well you had several more sharp weapons hidden in your body. 

"Ты менг раздржаешь... So," Lena inquired, eyeing Peter up and down, "Who's the boy toy?"

Your smirk intensified, a barely there twitch, an almost imperceptible movement of your fingers, was all the signal your boyfriend needed,

"His name is Peter," A web shooter went off, and Lena found herself suddenly unarmed "and he's not a boy toy" 

"No, he's an avenger" She spat the word like an insult, "You know the rules, Likho. We don't fuck with strangers"

"And we only share secrets with those we can trust" You finished for her, "I trust him, Lena" 

She huffed, still sizing him up, but you could see a new glint of curiosity, if not respect, in her emerald eyes. 

After a minute, she finally relaxed, dropping her defensive stance. Without another word, she turned away from you, opening a cabinet, taking out three glasses and a bottle of vodka. 

"What's the story, then?" She began pouring the drinks, "I assume there is a story there, last time I saw you, you wanted to kill the avengers. Now here you are, with one as a pet…"

"I'm not- I'm not a…" Peter stammered his protest, "I'm not a pet" 

"Then why are you trailing after her like a lost puppy?" 

"Lena," Your tone was warning, as you grabbed your glass "play nice"

She rolled her eyes again,

"You sound just like your mother. The blonde widow made a face, downing her drink in one gulp, only to immediately refill it, "I miss her"

"Yeah" you sighed, "me too…" 

Peter fidgeted uncomfortably next to you.

"Everything ok, Peter?"

Your boyfriend hesitated: His spider sense was still on high alert, but he couldn't really tell if it was because of the assassin, or another threat you were unaware of.

He decided to play it down for the moment.

"Yeah just… don't want to be rude or anything but I'm not really the vodka type"

"I guessed that already, Spider-Boy. Is why I didn't pour you one…"

"Then who's that one for?" He questioned pointing at the third one.

"That would be for me" 

You looked up, your face breaking into the biggest grin Peter had ever seen on you at the sound of the new voice.

"Alex!" 

A pang of jealousy hit him, as he watched you throw yourself into the arms of the tall, handsome stranger.

Because this Alex guy was handsome, there was no denying that: Bright hazel eyes on top of the sharpest cheekbones Peter had ever seen, pale face framed by dark, shiny long tresses almost to his shoulders.

"Nice hair" You teased, running your fingers through his luscious locks and Peter had the sudden impulse to stick bubble gum to them like Flash had done to him once, back in junior year. He self consciously rubbed his own head, too aware of his buzzcut.

"Nice bangs," the Alex guy shot back, messing your hair like one would to a little child, "you look like a schoolgirl" 

That earned him a rather painful looking punch to his shoulder.

"Punch like a girl too"

"Train a little harder and you will too" You winked. Peter cleared his throat. "Right, of course. Alex, this is Peter. Peter, this is Alex" 

They shook hands, Peter impulsively squeezing a little too hard for a human. But the skinnier boy simply smiled a wolfish grin, all sharp white teeth, returning the grip with just as much strength. 

"Welcome to the spiders' den, Peter"

…

An hour later found the four of you satiated and relaxed, amongst empty pizza boxes and beer bottles. 

"... So, there we were, completely surrounded by both Hydra and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, that were actually also Hydra agents, outnumbered and without any exit points in sight" Lena was retelling, Alex nodding enthusiastically beside her as he chew yet another slice of pepperoni, "So I reach inside my boot for my hidden glock, smirky hydra son of a bitch goes 'You looking for this, blondie?' Shaking my knife in front of my face…"

You fidget uncomfortably next to Peter, his eyes going from your beet red face to an Alex that seemed to be choking.

"And that little brat" she pointed at you, "Barbie pajamas, ice cream cone in one hand, my fucking gun in the other goes 'No, fart knocker, she was looking for this'" 

Alex finally snorted, little crumbs escaping his mouth and hitting you in the face as he started coughing. You wiped your face with as much dignity as you could muster.

"You're just salty because a nine year old saved your ass" 

"A sick nine year old" Alex managed to get out between barks, "With pink eye, she could only see with one eye. And using just one hand. Is why we call her Likho ever since" 

"Wait, you still had your ice cream?" 

"She never let go of that ice cream" Lena replied to the question Peter had directed at you, and you felt the temperature of your cheeks rise even more. 

"Literally single handedly took out 7 agents" Alex added, "and then demanded another scoop" 

All three of your companions dissolved in laughter, as you felt your stomach churn. Alex wouldn't look back on that particular memory with such fond eyes if he knew what that little incident had initiated, how it had snowballed until the consequences had reached a girl on the other side of the world, another red room experiment, just like you. 

They said a butterfly flapping its wings here can cause a typhoon in China. Well, your hurricane had levelled Ava Orlova's life.

You weren't one for guilt. Guilt had no place in survival. You did what had to be done in order to preserve yourself and your freedom. Just like your mother had taught you. Just like she had done. But being with Peter, loving Peter… well, that was having unforeseen consequences too, as you were coming to realize. 

Because now you understood. Now you understood Alex and Ava's bond, because Alex had felt for Ava the same way you did for Peter. Probably still did, since it was with trepidation that you realized his death probably wouldn't change your feelings for peter. 

After all, your own hadn't. 

"What about you, spider-boy? Any embarrassing stories to share?"

Peter smiled, for a minute forgetting where he was or why he was there,

"Actually, I do. It involves a barn, an overly friendly goat and hay in places hay should never…" He trailed off, his smile falling when he saw the look on your face.

"No! Why did you stop? That sounds like a great story!"

"Yeah, you got me at 'overly friendly goat'!"

Peter simply interlocked his fingers with yours, silently offering his support. It was time. You took a deep breath

"Because it wouldn't be fair to tell you a story that I don't remember" 

Silence fell over the small kitchen, as Lena and Alex processed your words, the later being the first to break it,

"S.H.I.E.L.D?"

"The T.A.H.I.T.I. protocol" you confirmed. He leaned back on his chair, chuckling, but there was no humor behind it.

"Well, well, well… ain't karma a bitch" 

"Alexei," Lena's tone was warning, "that was the Blank Slate project. You can't blame Likho for what Natasha did"

"Can't I? Really? Cause in over twenty years, our sister never cared about my 'trauma', but we find out about her" He pointed, accusingly, "and suddenly she is all about giving us a normal life. As if we could ever be normal. As if new memories could erase the Red Room from our bones"

"Alex…" You tried, weakly, but you didn't know what to say. Not when everything he was saying was true. 

"And now what? You want me to help you break through it? Now you need us to get back the memories they took from you, just like your mother stole memories from us?" 

"Alexei!"

"NO, YELENA!" Three figures automatically jumped into a fighting stance when his fist met the table. Alex closed his eyes, attempting to get his breathing, and his emotions, back under control. 

"If you want to help these Avengers, go ahead" He finally said, eyes fixed on his sister's, "but don't expect me to be a part of this." 

Without another word, he got up and left the room, leaving Yelena to pick the pieces of the broken bottle that had rolled off the table. And you, to pick up the pieces of your broken heart. 

"Shhh, it's ok, y/n" Peter, sweet, loyal Peter, tried to envelope you in his arms when he heard the first sob leave your throat, even if he didn't quite understand why it had hurt you so much to be called an Avenger. But Lena was there in a heartbeat, throwing him a dirty look, and taking your face in her hands to force you to look at her instead. 

"Don't listen to him, Likho. You're not an Avenger, you are a widow. You will always be a widow, and always will be a part of this family. Just like your mother."

You nodded, buring your face on your aunt's shoulder. 

"I'll help you, both of you" Yelena declared, eyes meeting Peter's, "Us spiders ought to take care of each other" 

To be continued… 

[ahsokasanity]

Chapter Eight

A Court of Shadow and Ribbons Missed any Chapters? Go to the pinned post

Notes:

– With credit to song words (only slightly messed with) Melissa Etheridge “Do It Again”

Nessian mating ceremony.

Idisi comes from Nordic mythology around the Valkyries – ours didn’t want to be a replica of the original female warriors, but something new and their own.

Apologies if you’re fitting this in during lunch break (@TrashForAzriel !) It’s a bit longer than normal

Nesta was not nervous on the day. She was already so entwined emotionally with Cassian that it actually seemed a natural progression to confess it in front of a few important friends and family. Some of the training group would be at the service, some could not make the step from the House of Wind to Velaris proper. They had tentatively begun to call themselves Idisi – the name itself made them more a part of the Valkyrie mythology, Nesta grinned to herself as she remembered Gwyn coming to them with the idea “Well, we can’t just keep calling ourselves the training group or Cassian’s defenders.” Although Nesta quite liked the second.

Nesta had stayed at The River House overnight and Cassian, Azriel and Rhys were to fly as many from the library as they could. Mor was going to Windhaven to collect Emerie who would stay the night in Velaris. All of them might end up out on the town. Nesta was wishing for, and dreading that night as the first she would take as Cassian’s mate and the first time she would return to the nightclubs and drinking bars that she had frequented before her recovery. With Cassian by her side, she knew it would be a fun night. The House of Wind had been entitled to them and tonight she would host her friends. The House had promised to care for them all if Nesta was occupied once they got home.

Gwyn had agreed to sing but she was nervous about leaving the library. The last time she did was to support Nesta and they had ended up abducted. She knew the circumstances were entirely different and the River House was so very safe, but it did not stop the butterflies swarming in her gut or the slight vibrato when she did try to speak at breakfast. She’d put on her best prayers robe. It was a pale blue and pleated around the neck to be fastened at the waist with a gold thin rope. He feet were shod in thick leather slippers that would protect her while travelling and walking in the garden.

There were just five of them to attend from the priestesses and being that Azriel and Rhys could winnow, they took Margot, Lorelei, Deirdre and Roslin. Cassian was grinning at Gwyn. “I think that the first Idisi to cut the ribbon with her sword should have no problem getting a ride to MY mating ceremony with her best friend’s mate?”

Gwyn laughed a nervous laugh and pursed her lips. “No, you wouldn’t think so would you” She stepped toward him and stood at his side, offering her arm for him to take. Cassian wrapped one arm around her waist and took her forearm with his other hand. “I’ll hold you and I promise I will not let you fall”

She nodded but closed her eyes. The hand around her hip was firm not punishing and his other hand was gentle on her arm. She told herself over and over. It’s OK, this is Cassian, it’s OK”

“No harm will come to you” Cassian had sensed her thoughts and she tried to look up at him, to give permission for this flight. He grinned down at her

“Don’t have too much fun will you” and launched off the training area into the bright summer sky. Gwyn screeched, not in a scared way she surprised herself, but with exhilaration. Cassian merely flapped harder to get into the slip stream heading up the face of the cliff from the city. As they got into that rising warm air he extended his wings to their widest (Gwyn remembered something that Nesta had told her that night in the library of the House of Wind, about Illyrians wing spans), but she shut down that thought as they began spiralling down, down, so smooth, so free.

The feeling was immense. She had shut herself out of this world for years now and could suddenly see what she might be missing. Yes, High Fae, Illyrians and half breeds like her, could all be cruel to each other. There was also this, flying (she was flying for the Mother’s sake) and heading to a celebration of love of togetherness and she loved her friends. She felt wonderful and alive and impatient to enjoy more.

The garden and lawn of the River House (it should be called the River Palace she thought), looked picture perfect today. Elain had worked hard on getting the flowers to bloom, in the right colour order to suit where Nesta would stand. Rhys had spared no expense in the set up of a pavilion and chairs, with a spread of food for all, once Cassian and Nesta had officially Mated.

Cassian could sense her excitement and a change in her scent from flat out petrified to wonder and a happy nervousness. One more thing that he could do to make her comfortable was to set her down where Mor and Emerie were talking at the outskirts of the party.

“Thank you Cassian” Gwyn stood on her tip toes to peck him on the cheek. “I did not know that it would be like that, so free. I can’t really explain it”

Cassian merely shrugged and replied “You don’t have to. I am glad that you are here, and that Nesta doesn’t have to attempt murder because I scared her friend!” He winked and headed off to Rhys and Azriel who were clucking over baby Nyx.

“Gwynie, oh wow, you are so lucky. How was the flight? It looked so glorious today and you took the slow way down. Oh, I am so jealous” Emerie was at her side and Mor a step behind.

“It’s nice to see you Gwyn” Mor intoned. There was more to that statement than your average greeting. It’s nice to see Gwyn in Velaris, it’s nice to see Gwyn outside the protection of the library. The first time that Mor had met Gwyn, she had just been repeatedly raped and her world was imploding. Mor here, in the sun on this grassy expanse of the river flat was a beautiful sight. Her words were a balm and Gwyn just nodded.

“It is so nice to see you again” she replied, again meaning a lot more than pure greeting.

Emerie took Gwyn’s arm but steered her close to Mor as they seemed to be in the middle of something “Just stay here until you have to sing will you Gwyn?” her friend insisted “I’ll get you a drink and we can applaud from here!”

Mor laughed at that and the two of them returned to talk of fabrics and colours and what Emerie sold in her shop and what Mor wanted to show her from Vallahan that was “like a second skin that shows every curve and highlights every asset” Whatever that meant. Emerie was immersed in the conversation and brought Gwyn in on it every now and then to suggest a colour for her or to ask her opinion. Gwyn was happily edging the topics as she was having more fun watching the others, Cassian being teased by his “brothers”, Feyre taking Nyx away from them before Rhys threw the boy high enough he’d have to learn to fly to get back, and Elain talking with some others whom Gwyn did not recognise. An auburn haired Fae with a mechanical eye. One of the sons of the Autumn Court by the looks. She remembered that Nesta did not like him much but that Feyre and he were on good terms. Elain seemed very quiet. Gwyn understood her shyness.

Emerie whispered to Gwyn “The red headed male is Lucien, Elain’s mate” she just nodded her head and looked their way. There was no explanation necessary, the relationship apparent. That mating was not the happy affair that Nesta and Cassian were celebrating. Elain looked a little more alive when Azriel joined their group, but Az stayed by Lucien’s side and spoke politely to all before moving to seat people around the central point of the yard, an altar and a table.

Gwyn was not at all present, she realised. The small tension of singing while Cassian and Nesta would be preparing and eating food together had been overtaken by the large stressor of being surrounded by people that she did not know. She found a place backing on to a heavily thorned rose bush bursting with red flowers. She felt better having her back protected. Little tremors shot up her spine and across her skin every few minutes and she held one hand in the other so that she could hold herself still. Deep breathing was the only thought that she had, her singing voice would not appreciate having no wind. Emerie touched her arm every now and then, but she was engrossed in the service and in leaning in to Mor’s side to whisper comments.

Gwyn found Emerie leading her toward the centre of the gathering and realised that she had better be ready to perform. A few strong breaths down into her stomach and she found her place, Nesta smiled through some tears as she moved aside to the table with food, Cassian so pleased, the look on his face many of them had never seen before.

Gwyn tried to look over the small crowd, but her gaze snagged on the darkness in one corner. Azriel. He gave her an encouraging nod and she was able to start

The song had originally been a nightclub hit, Nesta had played it for her on the Synphonia. Gwyn had tweaked it a little bit to be more soulful. More like a prayer.

Walked your fire I got a little bit burnt

Hold on tight cause I, I never did learn

You were the one they tried to warn me about

I jumped into your ocean knowing I could never get out

Oh darling it hurts, hurts to be in love

Oh darling it hurts but I do it just because

I walk straight through your mountain

Crawl right under your sea

And if you do not know it by now

You're the only one who does this to me

But I’d do it again

Yes I'd do it again

Even when I'm tired and my feelings are hurt

Never lost desire only made things worse

I hope I'm holding out for something good

Cause we're that combination yeah we're the kind that could

Oh darling it hurts, hurts to be in love

Oh darling it hurts but I do it just because

I walk straight through your mountain

Crawl right under your sea

And if you don't know, know it by now

You're the only one who does this to me

But I'd do it again

She looked up to see Cassian kissing Nesta passionately and smiled to herself. Only to become more self aware as people started to approach her with congratulations and it was hell.

Emerie was making her way to help, with Mor at her side, but Azriel and his shadows dispersed the few gushing admirers with excuses and subtle manoeuvring to suddenly be next to her. He lightly took her arm and guided her into the house and to the summer parlour by the kitchen. He sat her down on the nearest armchair and stepped back toward the door. “Wait Azriel, please” She was surprised to hear her own voice in such a clear request.

Azriel simply turned and stopped. He did not want to be closer to this woman than he already was. She was so beautiful and her singing always seemed to open a door to his emotions. He could not hear her without remembering old forgotten feelings of being held by his mother, of being full, not the furtive being that he had become. It was undoing his resolve, his very footing on the earth.

Gwyn composed herself and looked straight at Az. “Thank you for helping me out of that situation. I didn’t want to be with so many people, but I don’t want to be alone either.”

It took three steps for Azriel to be seated next to her and looking around the room, not at her. He looked at her all of the time. He couldn’t do it now. His chest was thundering. Do not ruin this Az, he thought savagely. This woman has been through hell. Do not overstep

“I have to tell you something Gwyn” he knew once he started he would have to finish this. “I have noticed you wearing a chain at training…”

“Oh well, it’s OK if I shouldn’t wear it, it’s nothing much”

Az swallowed his next words and re-thought where he was going with this. “Really, it’s nothing much?”

Gwyn blushed a little. “Well, I do really like it but it was an anonymous gift and I probably will never know who gave it to me, it shouldn’t be important to me”

Azriel decided then to struggle on. This could not stand. “It was me”

The room was silent. Gwyn’s face went through about fifteen expressions while he watched and waited. She looked sad then like she would yell at him, then pensive, finally she looked at him and spoke. “Why?”

“You are not going to like this, but I am going to tell you the absolute truth. That is all I can promise you” Azriel got out of the chair and started to walk this way and that about the room.

“I bought the jewel and the chain for Elain before Winter Solstice, I know that sounds bad, but please listen” Gwyn was discomforted but not scared. Azriel having feelings for her would be more scary.

“Rhys made me understand that any relationship outside of her being a sister to me was off the table. So Elain and I talked and she is my sister now. She will be making changes and I will support her decisions, but we will not be together”

Gwyn was struck dumb as to how she would feature in this story. How she became a part of this story.

Azriel could tell he was losing her. “After that night when you were training in the dark” She did smile at that “I wanted to give you something that was just appreciative of you”

“Do you think that Elain will see this and be upset?” Gwyn took the rose out of her top and it caught the sun. Azriel held himself together at the sight of Gwyn seated before him, rose between the thumb and forefinger and an absolute innocent look on her face.

“I, well, I hadn’t thought of that” he shifted to the far wall of the room and looked out over the gathering and smiled at his brother being fed bread by Nesta and laughing with less worry than he had even seen. He didn’t notice Gwyn had got up from her chair and approached him. When he turned back to her she was under his nose and he stepped back hurriedly

She had never felt threatened by Azriel, never nervous in his presence, but his closeness, his casual demeanour. He was not her trainer today. She held out the chain with the rose dangling and handed it to him.

“I think that it was a lovely gesture Azriel”, she liked the sound of his name and wanted to say it more, to moan it. “But, I think that you should take it back. Keep it until you can tell Elain that you found someone that you really want to see wearing it forever.” Azriel held out his hand and accepted the chain, quickly pocketing it with shame written across his downturned face at her words.

“Thank you, for thinking of Elain Gwyn. Five hundred years is not enough time apparently to turn me into a thoughtful male”

Gwyn could not bear the tone of his voice or the hunch of his shoulders. This was not Azriel on the back foot, this was him retreating. She knew the feeling. The self-loathing, the depression. It was not something that she wanted for him.

“Don’t say that. Don’t think that you are not every bit as noble as the best males in Velaris. You are thoughtful and you are kind. Think of all of our friends, our Idisi who are starting to feel, whole again.” She touched his cheek with a shaking hand “Think of me Azriel. I would be dead, and without the training I would be close enough to dead that there is little difference”

His eyes found hers but she stepped back away from him, hand still in the air between them.

“Azriel, would you walk with me in the garden?” She raised her elbow for him to take it, prayed that he would take it. He hesitated only a moment before sliding his arm through hers and they left the parlour then the house.

The party was getting properly started now, Cassian and Nesta had left, but that was no big deal, they would resurface later in the evening and it was the guest’s responsibility to eat, drink and enjoy themselves. It was being accomplished. Mor and Emerie were talking, heads close together by the edge of the crowd. Gwyn saw Elain speaking with Lucien in the company of Feyre and Nyx. That baby certainly garnered attention. Some of the priestess’ saw Gwyn with Azriel and waved them over.

They spoke for a little while, but the overall impression was that they were generally ready to leave. Lorelei and Deirdre had enjoyed perhaps a smidge too much strawberry wine and were giggly enough for the others to worry about their choices over the next few hours. The others had felt pleased and proud to be at the ceremony, but the ongoing music, drinking and laughing was not what they wanted for their first trip out from the library in an age. Azriel went to speak to Rhys, leaving Gwyn with the others with a smile and a nod that he would arrange transport for them.

Emerie found them and spoke to Gwyn “I think I’m going to stay here”, she nodded to Mor. “She has invited me to go out to Velaris to a night Club! I think I’m going to like it. Mor said she’d take me to the House of Wind to the guest suite whenever I wanted to leave.” Emerie’s cheek flushed as she said “I can’t believe she’s here talking to me,…. I really like her” the last quietly and aimed only for Gwyn

“That’s great Em, you seem comfortable today, you look; yourself” Gwyn had noticed the calm stance and the open face while Emerie talked with Mor. She was really at home here.

“I feel amazing Gwynie, not like anything I’ve ever felt before. Free and happy and maybe,…excited” She hugged Gwyn. “Do you want me to ask Mor to winnow you home?, you look tired. Oh, where’s your chain?”

Gwyn looked slightly unsettled “Can I tell you about that later? , it’s alright though” She smiled to show Emerie that she was really fine with the loss and added “Would it be silly of me to ask, could I suggest that Mor help with Deirdre and Lorelei and the others? I’d like to speak to Azriel”

Emerie noted the confidence in Gwyn’s request and the lift of her head. She was sure about this.

“OK, sure. I’ll see what I can do” Emerie squeezed Gwyn’s hand then turned to Mor who was speaking with Lucien now.

Gwyn focused on the rose bushes and wandered around the edge of the revellers. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to talk to Azriel about, but she couldn’t leave him tonight without another word. She wanted to make sure that he was good. That he knew she was a friend. She was happy with her decision to give up the necklace. Even though the thought that it had been from Azriel was thrilling and scary all at once. She had now made a plan that he would find in the future, a need to gift it back to her with emotions attached. She didn’t know why that thought had occurred to her. It was something she could not have imagined before today.

Azriel approached her as if summoned. He was looking down and around, anywhere but her face, so she lifted her hand for him to take and stared him down. “I wanted to ask you, if you wouldn’t mind, could you please fly me home?

Azriel’s shock at the request was covered quickly. What he did know was that Gwyn was asking for physical contact with him. Winnowing only required the slightest touch. A hand or an arm. Flying on the other hand would be body contact on a larger scale. This was her choice. He nodded his head, lost for useful words. He didn’t want to sound like a clumsy novice male. He merely stretched an arm out for her to step into his side.

Gwyn turned to Emerie and Mor who were organising the other Idisi and gave them a smile. Emerie grinned in return and Azriel wrapped her in an embrace that was solid and calming yet her blood pounded and her eyes blinked. She couldn’t remember feeling so safe.

His wings spread and flapped and Azriel bent his knees and sprung into the breeze of the evening. Gwyn found herself tightening her grip around his neck and bringing her face closer to his

“You’re safe” is all he said

Gwyn simply replied “I know”

The trip down with Cassian had been exhilarating and freeing, the flying back required going across Velaris, coming to life with street lights and coloured flashes from the restaurants and dance rooms opening for the night. Gwyn got the feeling that she was missing a lot so she turned her head and took in the marvel of the city, the lights and the sun setting across the ocean. “Oh my goodness, Azriel, it is so beautiful” Azriel smiled and nodded, but he too looked properly at that view re-appreciating what he always knew was there. Trying to see it as Gwyn saw it for the first time brought a wonder to his heart that he had forgotten.

Gwyn looked at his face, and he caught her eyes. It was a charged moment. Azriel composed himself first and looked out to the sea and the river. With his free hand he began to point out landmarks and favourite haunts. From the Rainbow where Feyre went to paint and to teach, to the townhouse in the residential area and of course the sparkling flashing lights of Rita’s – their most frequented nightclub. “I guess I’ll be finding Mor and Emerie and probably the others there later” he smiled to think of what he knew of Mor now and the simmering looks that she and Emerie had been sharing during the ceremony. Only happiness filled him at the thought.

Gwyn was getting comfortable and moved a little in his arms. She squealed as she felt herself slip, but Azriel simply held her tighter and put his other arm under her legs, carrying her through the air like a princess. She surrendered, just for now she told herself, to the warmth and the stillness here in his chest.

Azriel relaxed into the embrace and flew steadily ignoring the thundering of his heart and the closeness of her lithe warrior’s body. The distance was covered all too soon and he stepped onto the roof of the house, jogging a few steps toward the double doors before coming to a halt. He placed her on the ground feet first, before facing her with his arm still around her middle. Gwyn stepped away first and walked backwards toward the entrance. She smiled at him

“Thank you Azriel” She looked down as if remembering where that jewel had rested until this afternoon. “I did really love that chain” She winked, as she had to him once before. This was not a student teacher interaction, this was a suggestion, a question to his searching. He took a step toward her and she held up a hand

“See you at training” and she turned, with every fibre of her being she kept walking toward the library. Willing him to watch her, to make a plan for the future to stop her from walking away. But not today. She was tired, she was wrung out and she did not trust herself to spend any more time with this male. He had opened too many doors within her to be careful of her wellbeing. She needed more time.

Azriel was old. He had bedded women across continents and had held a candle for Mor since he could remember wanting. Gwyn had him questioning any reaction that came to mind. Instead of those he just whispered “You will” He meant more than training tomorrow. He fully intended to show her what a thoughtful, evolved Illyrian male could evoke in a woman. She would not have a straw of fear left for him by the time she came to him ready to accept the necklace as truly hers.

                                                                       *

[inspirashion]

I posted 88 times in 2021

54 posts created (61%)

34 posts reblogged (39%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 0.6 posts.

I added 264 tags in 2021

#voltron legendary defender - 43 posts

#voltron - 41 posts

#voltron keith - 37 posts

#voltron au - 33 posts

#voltron pidge - 33 posts

#kidge - 28 posts

#keidge - 26 posts

#voltron lance - 9 posts

#voltron hunk - 8 posts

#voltron fanfic - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 103 characters

#but there' s a fic already out there but it's not going to get updated anytime soon if any time at all.

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

An Unlikely Couple

Serial Killer Keith x Writer Pidge

(Inspired by the joke in @flannelfangirl fic: Tread Marks.

Pidge was always told that she shouldn't put all her eggs in one basket. She was a smart girl - she had her doctorate in astrophysics at 25, at a young age, she's worked on so many things, patented even more.

But, her friends told her to stop burying herself in work and try something new. So she did. Now, she's attempting to write a novel. She's read so many murder mysteries, so she decided to write one herself. But alas, she's stuck on a murder scene.

She would've tried to search for it on Google, but then again, she didn't want to raise suspicions at the company so she kept silent.

"Ah shit." She grumbled. She threw her head back and frowned. Her coffee sat on the table, her cake slice barely touched.

"Your serial killer is dumb." A voice said. Pidge's eyes snapped open and she rose up and looked at the source of the voice.

"And you are...?"

The raven-haired man shrugged. "Just a man who read your draft."

"And who gave you that permission?"

"You left it wide open on the table."

"That still didn't give you the right."

"Anyway, the killer is a fool. You can't kidnap someone like that. Chloroform doesn't work immediately. It takes about five minutes."

Pidge raised her eyebrow. "And how would you know that?"

The raven-haired man leaned back and smirked. "I'm a serial killer." He folded his arms, looking smug.

Pidge laughed. It resounded throughout the café. The raven-haired man didn't seem fazed.

"You're a serial killer?! What a joke!"

"You don't believe me? Fine. Wait until I show up in your house with a cutlass."

"I dare you, bitch."

35 notes • Posted 2021-09-16 02:25:29 GMT

#4

Lionheart: Mages of Voltron

Bonus: Long-haired Keith

Being Half-Galra, Keith is able to use two separate Fires - the regular Fire of heat and destruction and an unusual Purple Flame that which was the combination of his father's magic and his mother's abilities.

After finding the Blue Lion and getting carried to the floating Castle, Keith became Voltron's Red Mage, his Lion and partner being Désordre - The Red Lion Deity of Fire and Chaos.

Out of the other five (yes, there are Six Mages of Voltron), Keith was the first one to bond completely with his Lion, so much so that Désordre is able to manifest in a form of Keith.

Both Mage and Lion are like two peas in a pod —hotheaded, audacious, impulsive and share one brain cell. The two, on their good days, are nothing but the embodiment of chaos, hence the nickname given to them by Lance: "The Chaotic Duo."

Additionally, both are proficient with Swords, Désordre being hailed as not only a Deity of Fire and Chaos, but Swords as well.

See the full post

37 notes • Posted 2021-10-21 02:45:51 GMT

#3

Kidge Child

Kelsey Alexander

"My parents are wonderful artists. After all, their greatest work of art is me. So get that in your thick skulls, fucking extras."

He is the son of Keith and Katie Alexander, the Black and Green Paladins of Voltron. This boy be low on caffeine, low on hacking prowess, but damn, he sure is high on sass.

When he was much younger, Lance always volunteers to babysit because Kelsey is packing those snarky comments, it's never a dull moment with the brat around.

38 notes • Posted 2021-11-13 04:16:18 GMT

#2

The Sword and Shield

The Voltron:LD Shield Hero AU wherein Pidge is Naofumi and Keith is Raphtalia. Dunno if this has been done before...

The thought came when I saw something about Shield Hero S2, and I felt VLD's recurring Sword and Shield theme could be applied (with a dash of romance, of course!)

Also, the original backstories of the Shield Hero characters cannot be applied here.

After journeying together for weeks, probably months, feelings start to catch and Pidge learning more about Keith’s past and how he had no one but Shiro (who's now missing) and he feels like giving up because life is throwing all sorts of shit their way, Pidge says the above...

(I'm weak.)

See the full post

48 notes • Posted 2021-08-25 05:52:01 GMT

#1

VOLTRON ROCK BAND AU

So, I'm co-writing a vld fic and decided to do some art for it. I spent a lot of time on their hairs though *cough* Keith *cough cough*. Fic link is right below:

See the full post

52 notes • Posted 2021-07-14 04:31:55 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[the-bloodycircle-cb]

𝙏𝙒: 𝙈𝙐𝙍𝘿𝙀𝙍, 𝙈𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉𝙎 𝙊𝙁 𝘽𝙇𝙊𝙊𝘿, 𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙏𝙃, 𝘿𝙍𝙊𝙒𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂, 𝘿𝙀𝙋𝙄𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉𝙎 𝙊𝙁 𝙑𝙄𝙊𝙇𝙀𝙉𝘾𝙀 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙃𝙊𝙍𝙍𝙊𝙍 𝘾𝙍𝙀𝙀𝙋𝙔𝙋𝘼𝙎𝙏𝘼 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙈𝙀𝙎

𝙋𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙎𝙀 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝘾𝙀𝙀𝘿 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝘾𝘼𝙐𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 𝙊𝙍 𝘼𝙑𝙊𝙄𝘿 𝙁𝙍𝙊𝙈 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙄𝙁 𝙏𝙍𝙄𝙂𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙀𝘿 𝘽𝙔 𝘼𝙉𝙔 𝙊𝙁 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘼𝘽𝙊𝙑𝙀.

•

.

•

.

•

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 7398

𝓟𝓪𝓰𝓮 2 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓸𝓯 8

❝𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓶𝓮𝓽 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓪

𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓫𝓵𝓮 𝓯𝓪𝓽𝓮, 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓷'𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾?❞

It was a warm Sunday evening in a quaint little suburban area. The sun peeked over the fluffy clouds, golden rays spilling onto the red shingles of the roofs.

A young boy- somewhere in his teens- was skipping with joy down the sidewalk, clutching a clear plastic bag in his hands. He had waited incredibly long for this day, saving up his allowance to finally purchase the very thing he's been eyeing for almost three months now.

"I can't believe I finally got the collector's edition of Majora's Mask! This thing is antique~!" He chirps to himself, watching the game cartridge jiggle around in the plastic bag.

The walk back home took no less than five minutes, kicking off his shoes and making his presence known to his mother. He was quick to shower and have dinner before rushing back upstairs, already done his homework in advance so he could finally game in peace.

Throwing his hood over his head, he inserts the cartridge into his Nintendo GameCube he got two Christmases ago, grinning when it goes in easily.

"Finally, I hope the game doesn't lag. I spent all my pocket money on this shit, it's old but still playable." He mutters to himself, remembering the words from the antique shopkeeper earlier that day.

The smile that spreads across his face at the sight of the game loading successfully was filled with excitement and relief, clicking on a new slot before pressing play.

“Huh. There's a few glitches in this thing.. heh, must be the age. It did come from the early 2000s.” He snickered, getting used to the controls of the game.

A few hours passed and it was late into the night now when the male began to feel uneasy. He had passed through a few locations in the map and he felt as if something was watching him play. But that was impossible, his parents were sleeping and he was the only child.. it should definitely be impossible, shouldn't it?

He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand when he finally found the source of his anxiety in the dimly lit room. Eyes widening by a few fractions, he stared at the pixelated character in the background of the screen, blinking in disbelief.

“Is that... The Elegy of Emptiness statue of Link?” He sputters, watching as the pixels shift around, as if reacting to his words.

His fingers shook a little as he held the controller in his hands, chewing on his bottom lip.

“This must be like.. an easter egg or something, right? Yeah, haha, definitely. It's like.. and extra companion.”

The teen thinks to himself, feeling himself calm down at the thought. He disregards the way the statue continues to slink through the map with him, resuming his gameplay.

Things seemed to have calmed down, the male sinking back into his gamer zone but deep down in his stomach he could feel fear bubble. Ever since his revelation the dialogues that he encountered kept glitching, some of the words too pixelated to make out and some even being changed to words like “why?” and “stop”.

He doesn't let the goosebumps stop him though, pushing the sight of the uninvited visitor to the back of his mind as his fingers pressed the buttons to move his character.

But then, things.. went terribly wrong.

“Ah finally, now if I cross this I'm pretty sure I'll get to the other cliffside. Just walk down the bridge and I'll arrive at the next town!” He chirped to himself, eyeing the digital clock on his bedside.

01:34 a.m.

Right as he stepped foot on the long bridge, he heard it. The change of soundtrack from the normal roaming one to a more.. unnerving one. The teen's eyes searched around the screen, unable to find the statue anymore.

“That's funny.. it was there a few minutes ago.” He mutters to himself, continuing to move down the bridge. The music picked up, sharp notes piercing his ears as he watches the pixel water below churn and glitch.

He continues to feel uneasy, breath hitching in his throat when he spots a text box pop up under the Link character. Eyebrows furrowed, he felt ice cold fear wash over him despite being wrapped in a blanket. The text glared at him in the darkness of his bedroom as he jumped when his clock ticked.

02:00 a.m.

“You shouldn't have done that.”

A cold voice rasps, the sound grainy and distorted as it resonates through the headphones he was wearing. He almost screamed, unable to move his fingers to click the next dialogue.

But he didn't have to.

The next text box appeared by itself, again with the same glitchy letters and the same cold, disembodied voice.

“How foolish of you to have continued playing even after knowing there was something wrong with the game. How desperate are you youths to play this wretched game?”

His words couldn't seem to exit his mouth, being stuck in his throat when he froze up in absolute terror. He doesn't know what was going on, who was talking to him? Were these dialogues supposed to be apart of the game?

“You look absolutely terrible, did I scare you? I was waiting for you to finally realize it, take a guess what music is currently playing.”

Without needing to move, he saw his laptop screen lit up from his desk, eyes flying to stare at it in shock. He got up with shaky hands, staring at the game file before falling back onto his bottom.

DROWNED.wmv

He scrambled back to his GameCube, seeing no more glitchy dialogues but his own character nowhere to be seen. He blinks, gasping when he sees he statue yet again, this time it seemed to have his Link avatar in its grasps, dragging it over to the water's edge.

It took him too long to finally process what was happening, and it only hit him full force when he heard the first piercing scream. It was that of a young boy, fearful and pleading as he cried bloody murder. The teen's eyes could only stare helplessly as he watches Link kick and squirm in his statue's grasp, the sound of the struggle evident over the music.

“LET ME GO LET ME GO LET ME GO.”

He fell back in horror when the statue pushed Link's head down into the river, hearing the drowned out screams coming from the still alive Link as he's forced to take the water down his lungs.

The male finally found the courage in him to stand up and make a run for it, right as Link's lifeless body starts floating down the river.

Then again, he was too late.

Right as his fingers touched the doorknob he was flung back to the floor by an unseen entity, groaning in pain. He had hit his head on the desk side, swimming through consciousness and unconsciousness when he felt it.

Drip

Drip

He looked up, about to scream when he had his mouth covered, the man above him giggling from the terrified look on his face. He had no visible eyes to be seen, only pure black voids of his eye sockets and a single red dot as his pupil. What was more unnerving though, was the sight of him seemingly crying with the tears dripping down his cheeksn

And those tears were blood.

The man dragged his limp body to the GameCube, a small flash of light before he no longer felt the carpet of his floor. Instead, he felt cold damp grass underneath his body, looking up to see the moon shining.

His assailant had brought him into the game. He was transported straight into Majora's Mask.

“Y'know, I expected some more struggle from you. Are you just gonna stay there and let me drag you all the way before the inevitable happens?"

The male could only attempt to toss and turn as he was dragged by the legs, finally orienting himself to struggle once he hears the rush of the river a few feet away.

The teen finally screamed, he screamed and kicked and flailed and tried as hard as he could to free himself.

But did he really think his captor would let that happen?

“Aha, now this is more entertaining~ You remind me of myself, far back from now. I was here too, struggling and screaming for my life. But who came for me?”

His eyes grew cold, brushing the bloodied tears away. “No one.”

With that, his assailant tossed him into the river, gripping him by the hair. The man's hair shimmered to an almost silver in the moonlight, though streaks of gold were highlighted by the dim lighting. The teen let out another plead, clawing at the man's fingers to free himself only to elicit another giggle.

“You're funny when you beg.”

SPLASH

He started to flail again, screaming as he feels his lungs burn. He kept struggling, and with every struggle more water enters into his mouth and nose. He screams and screams and screams, the music of DROWNED.wmv getting louder and louder until it stopped.

Yuta hummed, finally loosening his grip on the boy's hair. He watches his lifeless body float down the river in a similar fashion to when he ‘killed’ Link just now, a satisfied grin on his face.

The next thing you know, the mother would go to wake her son up only to find an empty bedroom. It would be classified into one of the many missing children cases, remaining unsolved, forever. No sign of any struggle, no windows opened and nothing out of the ordinary. The only exception was the GameCube, the screen now completely pitch black with a text box in distorted letters.

“You've met with a terrible fate, haven't you?”

𝓑𝓔𝓝 𝓓𝓻𝓸𝔀𝓷𝓮𝓭! 𝓝𝓪𝓴𝓪𝓶𝓸𝓽𝓸 𝓨𝓾𝓽𝓪

【Ｔｈｅ　Ｓｅｃｏｎｄ　Ｐａｇｅ】

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘾𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧: @yanlee @yanlee-spam

𝙑𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙨 (?): @time-for-confession @m00n-purplerose-chatbot @yourdaddychan @hunter-chaeyoung @domyukhei @amazingspiderhan @yanderexhoshi @yourcupidchuu @m00n-miaka-cb @xx-macabre-chungha-xx @your-jaemin @seventeen-chatbot @soft-hyunjin-chatbot @playboy-jun @leextaeyong @moonlightchn @ateez-zombie-wonderland @camboy-superm @madmanwoodam @midari-jieun @underground-ateez @ghost-hyunjin @gryffindorxjeno @yanderesungie @mafia-chaeyoung @angelhyuck-cb @caretaker-johnny @dancertenbot @roomie-xiaojun @heartbroken-yeji @exoticdancer-chatbot @criminalinvestigator-mingyu @softbf-skz @seoyejibot @lawyer-jungwoo @la-soleilmafia-cb @mafiaxwayv @sk-tao @jungseonghwa @incubuswooyoung @floristluda @empress-jiaqi @yarindere @alteredjiaqi @ateez-treasure9au-chatbot @yandere-jaehyun @spn-seungwoo @demon-nct (DM if you want to be +/- especially if this kind of concept makes you uncomfortable.)

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP meme from Scream Queens Ep 4 "Haunted House" (Note: Offensive content, use at own discretion)

A girl died in this tub.

There's no record of any of these names except for one.

Oh, my god, there's two of them!

I own Halloween. It's my jam.

Halloween is the most important day of the year. It's the one day on the Gregorian calendar where you're allowed to go around terrifying children and not be branded a psychopath.

I am a future network news anchor who's super classy and has almost no fat on her body.

A lot of my fans are, like, friendless dumpy coeds at this or that nursing school in one of this country's various national armpits.

They put down their hot pockets and bask in the warm glow of what it feels like to love me.

I went shopping with my comatose grandmother's credit card and bought presents.

Oh, my god, it says my name!

I hope the severed leg brightens up your trailer park.

You're a bright light in my life, and I wanted you to know how much you impress me with your frumpy spirit.

You are so devastatingly mediocre and adorable!

I can't wait to see you in person, but before that, I'd like to see you post this all over social media, to exploit it for my own gain.

Aah! It's a rotting jack-o'-lantern!

Aah! This box is just filled with blood!

She got me a razor apple!

I stole this cadaver head from an ophthalmology student just for you.

You're the most important person in the world.

So you didn't see anyone in a red devil costume entering or leaving the house?

Are you coming to the precinct pig roast this year?

Come on, she's obviously the killer!

Do you mean to suggest I changed out of my nightgown, strapped myself into a skintight pleather red devil costume, climbed out a second-story dormer, and shimmied to the ground with a chain saw before entering a window I had left open, tried to kill you, then leapt out the window, climbed back up the wall, changed back into my nightgown,

and raced downstairs, all in the course of about 90 seconds?

Clearly that's got you a little freaked out.

I'm not gonna hold any of this against you, and I'm gonna let you be my date for the faculty Halloween party.

Attempted murder!

A guy was almost killed tonight, okay?

Now, no, I'm not a detective, hell, I ain't even a cop, but what I am is somebody who watched every one of those Cosby mysteries, okay?

See? Dismemberment!

I am so sorry that I pushed you out of my car and drove off real scared.

I just can't believe that How To Lose A Guy In 10 days is your favorite movie, too.

In precisely two and half minutes when we go in there, you let me do all the talking.

What are you dressed as?

Oh, you have a squirrel. Don't see that much anymore.

Breakfast is almost ready, we got meat today.

What can you tell us about that night?

Now, we will keep your name out of it, of course.

'm a vault,

And to get in this vault you need a key. Now, you may ask, a key to what? It's a key to meaning. Once you've found the meaning, you don't need the words. You know what I'm saying?

Please, continue with your story.

Have any of you ever heard of "negligent homicide"?

We need to dispose of this body on our own. Now, I've got everything we need in the kitchen to make sausages out of her.

I'm gonna go downstairs, shut this party down, and then we'll get the body out of here.

Somebody has to watch after the baby.

Can you at least turn on the radio?

Just leave the details to me.

We can't just act like this never happened.

She's the devil, that one.

I looked at that baby up close. I know my peas and carrots. That baby was a girl.

Your support doesn't matter.

My campaign needs a theme?

My pumpkin's drunk.

I'm hosting a haunted house to raise money for sickle cell anemia.

Why are you holding a fund-raiser, though?

I don't think you understand the magnitude of the miscalculation you just made.

I can assure you you will not be winning an election anytime soon. And when you lose, I am gonna make it my lifelong passion to destroy your reputation.

You're a stuck-up little sociopath, and everybody in this room knows it.

It might behoove you to recall that everyone here witnessed you actually murder someone

Just sharpening knives.

Put the knives down.

I don't know what came over me.

How very adolescent of you to think of this.

It vaguely smacks of something my six-year-old sister would be excited about.

It's the most disgusting disease in the history of mankind.

You get it when you don't even understand the most basic tenets of oral hygiene.

Just give the dang thing its pot of gold already!

I ain't got no candy!

Bet you're a sexy dirt-covered girl. That's what I bet you are.

Sometimes I come out here and I just rub my hands on the gravestones.

I get you more than anyone.

I also find the thought of dead bodies extremely arousing.

I just don't understand why I have all these dark feelings.

You know, I just think our generation's had it too easy, you know? We haven't seen enough horrible stuff. There's no awesome diseases randomly killing people. There's not really any awesome wars to go off to and witness horrific things you can't unsee. We, like, pulled out of all of 'em.

Sometimes I just don't even feel like I'm living, you know?

The only time I feel anything is when I'm thinking about chopping up a body.

And here you are, saddled up with an uptight girlfriend who freaked out for no other reason than the fact that you just wanted to fantasize about having sex with her lifeless corpse.

Oh, my god, I got a total chub right now.

Not scary enough.

She'll let you in the back door.

What could be scarier for an adult than a child coming to murder them?

Isn't that all of our greatest fear? That the pain, the regrets, the mistakes of our youth will destroy us in our adulthood? That we can't escape our inner child. One we would rather forget, but who, at the end of the day has all the power.

Why are you lying to me?

Something does not make sense.

You got to give me more here, okay?

I don't understand what you're getting at.

Are you on bath salts?

Why are we even here?

This house is haunted.

There's a legend in this neighborhood about a woman who wailed about her dead children. And this was the house she lived in.

These dumb ol' kids are smoking crack.

I think it's incredible what you can find out with just a quick trip down to your local library.

This can be one of the rooms for the haunted house.

What exactly do you plan on doing at this haunted house?

I was thinking we could blindfold folks and make 'em put their hands in a bowl full of grapes we peeled, so it'll feel like eyeballs.

I think the reason you want to have a haunted house party is 'cause a haunted party is like a buffet for murderers.

Yeah, yeah, you can just go around killing anybody you want and ain't nobody even gonna even notice.

Just like you chopped the arms off that dumb-ass golf guy.

Why do you have it out for me?

So now you look at me and see everything you could've been.

I hope you have a good time at you haunted party and get to murder lots of folks.

You have this way too thought out.

Isn't this kind of nice?

My sense of personal identity is completely external.

I really don't have much to offer.

I've found that my particular style of speaking and gesticulation is extremely off-putting to most boys. And girls. And anyone.

I need to eat. My blood sugar is crashing.

I'm tired of depriving myself of joy and sustenance.

I may die at the end of a serial killer's blade, but I refuse to die hungry.

Which one of you ladies would like to be my costume for Halloween? I'm going as "dude having awesome sex with you."

I mean, what in the hell's wrong with the world where a guy can't even whistle at a chick just to tell her she looks hot?

I recently took a women's studies class. Yes, because it was a requirement, but I learned a lot anyways. Like the culture that says it's okay for a man to objectify a woman for her appearance is the same culture that pressures girls as young as ten to have eating disorders.

So you're basically saying I'm the one responsible for making you look hot?

When you treat us like meat, you're no better than him!

I'm not really sure how you got my number, but I like how you took the initiative and texted me where you wanted us to meet.

Do you think you're man enough to take me inside that house and attack my crack?

I'll sure this house has an amazingly romantic basement.

Hey, so, uh, a little awkward since we're about to bone down and everything, but, um, what's your name?

Smells like roadkill.

I've never been so scared in my whole life.

All right, if we go to the police, they're gonna see I'm still rocking a mad sidepipe, and they're gonna think I had something to do with it.

We have to warn people.

All right, everybody listen up! All of your lives are in danger!

There are dead bodies! Dead bodies. Real-life dead bodies.

Did you say dead bodies?

Those are like the most lifelike dead bodies I've ever seen.

Is that a real dead body?

There are five dead bodies in that house. Laid out in horrible and deliberate macabre poses.

You are not leaving this house tonight.

You make it harder and harder to believe that you're not the killer.

I found out something really interesting, and now I have a theory.

Everything is weird about that story.

I mean, it's too big a coincidence.

We have to figure out who that woman was.

[cinnaminsvga]

Dumbo Preview | Jungkook (M)

→ summary: you know what they say about boys with big noses...

{or alternatively: jungkook has a big dick but he doesn’t know how to use it.}

→ genre: humor/crack, smut → warnings: they talk about dicks a lot (i.e. jungkook has a big dick), DICK MEASURING CONTESTS (aka jk gets his dick appraised... just boys bein’ boys), explicit sexual content, semi-public exhibitionism, handjobs, blowjobs, sub!jungkook, whining, light dirty talk but it’s... not on purpose??, jungkook looks soft but he’s tattoed and pierced, accidental edging (you’ll... understand) → words: anticipated 10-15K → a/n: ...listen. i am not in the right state of mind right now. i am actually bordering on insane... but that’s not gonna stop me from being a clown so this is!! something i’ve been working on for a Year now but @jincherie​ literally commissioned me to finish writing this piece of shit so here we are... here we fucking are... idk when i’m posting this but it will be Soon and i’m not ready

It takes him a while to find an empty stool by the bar and he is unlucky enough to be squished between two couples who don’t seem to be aware that public indecency is a crime. He has to endure being jostled for five minutes straight until the bartender finally notices him and allow him to order his can of coke.

(“Sorry, kid. The banana milk is all sold out. Some girl ordered our entire stock for her friends a few hours ago.” And just like that, Jungkook wants to die all over again.)

He does not know for how long he sits by the bar. Well, that’s a blatant lie, because he knows that he’s been sitting there for 18 minutes and 34 seconds exactly. He’s checked his phone religiously every 2 minutes to see if 2 hours have passed already, just so he can ask one of his stupid friends to go home with him. Perhaps he could coerce Jimin into turning in early for once (which is a pipedream, not when the DJ seems adamant to play Jimin’s favorite Christina Aguilera song 70 times in a row.)

So in short, Jungkook is miserable. He could go home by himself, but also he doesn’t want to end up having to walk to the police station the next morning to bail his friends out after one of them inevitably destroys public property again.

Fuck. Maybe he shouldn’t have thrown away his other drink.

He’s so deep in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice that one of the couples beside him have already left and that another person has taken their spot. He is jarred from his musings when a well-manicured hand is placed delicately on his shoulder, urging him to swivel the barstool around to face his soon-to-be acquaintance.

“Hey,” you say, a sultry smile on your lips. Jungkook feels his mouth immediately fill with cotton as he stares at your beautiful face, the dingy lighting of the club doing nothing to suppress the wicked glint in your eyes.

“Uhh… hey?” Jungkook replies, as charming and verbose as ever. If it isn’t obvious enough, Jungkook is a little lacking in the girls department, or at least, when it comes to girls-who-are-blatantly-flirting with him department. He normally isn’t this socially inept around the opposite gender, but given the connotations of this circumstance, his overactive male brain can only be restrained so much before it starts wandering towards dangerous territory.

It doesn’t help that the neckline of your dress is bordering on obscene, and Jungkook is afraid that if you move one more inch towards him, something very embarrassing might happen to the both of you (probably more so for him, if he’s being quite honest.)

“I couldn’t help but notice you from across the club and thought I should introduce myself,” you explain, gaze unashamedly trailing down his body. Jungkook can feel the heat from you radiating in waves, burning him from the inside out as he tries not to melt into a puddle in a pathetic attempt to get the fuck out of there. 

“You saw me? But it’s… so dark in here…” Jungkook wants to fucking murder himself. That’s what he decides to say to you? God, no fucking wonder he’s a virgin. Good looks really aren’t everything when he doesn’t have a brain controlling the rest of his body. There might as well be a fucking hamster running laps inside of his skull for all he knew.

Thankfully (or unthankfully––God knows Jungkook’s stress levels aren’t lowering any time soon), you find his response funny enough to warrant a chuckle. You bat your eyes salaciously at him, which Jungkook didn’t even think was possible. People can be sexy? When they blink? Apparently, you can do that. 

You shrug your shoulders. “That’s true. You caught me in a lie, I suppose. I actually knew you were coming even before you arrived.”

Jungkook chokes on his own spit then, nearly spraying you with his saliva like the dog that he is. He feels his eyes bugging out of his sockets, his body going tense with nerves. "You... you knew? What... What does that even mean?"

You point over your shoulder, gesturing vaguely at the crowd on the dance floor. "I'm friends with Seokjin over there. He mentioned you were coming with him to the club tonight so I decided to tag along."

"You know Seokjin-hyung?" The alarm bells in Jungkook's head start ringing wildly out of control. Nothing good ever comes out of being friends with Seokjin, especially since his presence alone has the power to make the creases in your brain to smoothen. Take it from someone who's been there, done that.

"Yep," you say, popping your 'p.' "I met him in my first-year English course, though I still don't know why a third-year like him was taking it in the first place."

"It's because he doesn't know how to read," Jungkook says plainly.

"I can tell. He uses voice-to-text exclusively and Siri can never spell Asian names correctly," you shrug your shoulders. "Either that, or he just doesn't know how to spell your name."

"Yea. I'm permanently John Jung Cock on his phone," Jungkook replies. He shakes his head. "Hold on, we were talking about something before this."

"Oh. About how I casually revealed to you that I was stalking you through our mutually insane friend?"

"Y-Yea, basically." Jungkook doesn't even understand what the fuck is happening right now. "I mean! Not exactly? Like, for all I know, you could've just asked hyung who he was coming with and he mentioned my name and––"

"Listen, kid. I straight up just told you I'm stalking you. Let's skip the foreplay and get to the meat of it: I'm literally following you," you say, without an inch of regret, embarrassment, or morality in your tone of voice.

Jungkook, who despite being filled with so much fear and tension enough to kill the small hamster inside his brain, is somehow able to keep his calm in front of the psychopath in front of him. Either that, or he's already in the middle of a stroke and he's lost all his fine motor skills.

"I... I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything, baby," you murmur, leaning even closer to him until your chest was practically pressed against his. The thin layer of your dress and his well-worn cotton tee does nothing to help the situation (both in general and the one in his pants). He can feel your every curve, can smell the sweet perfume you're wearing; you were enveloping his senses. If he tried hard enough, he could probably count your eyelashes if he so desired with how close you were.

He knows he should probably be running away in terror right now, but he finds himself stuck resolutely to the barstool, unable to move. Maybe Jimin was right... Maybe he did have a fear kink or something.

("Isn't that just called masochism?" Jungkook asks, brows raised.

Jimin only laughs, patting him on the back condescendingly. "Nah, dude. You just straight up wanna die by the hands of a hot person, and I can respect that homie. We all have been there.")

“W-what do you want from me?” Jungkook asks, sweat lining his brow. You’re still looking at him like he was a meal, but he finds he probably doesn’t mind being devoured by you. 

Your wicked grin returns, full force. “I just want to play, Jungkook. But why don’t we discuss this… somewhere more private?”

[bisexualnerd]

Melancholy Kaleidoscope

Chapter 5/5

~You can read on AO3 here ⤵️⤵️~

Dinner had been peaceful so far. There hadn't been any sign of attempt murder just yet. No flying dishes nor forks being used as weapons.

Bruce was looking at them with suspicion in his eyes.

Well, the man had every right to keep a close watch on them.

Cass stole a piece from his plate again and Tim whined quietly at his sister. The said sister just giggled and booped his nose. He sighed as he could hear Jason sniggering from the other side of the dining table.

"Cass..." He complained again as another piece got stolen. "You have your own food already..."

"Messing with you is fun, little brother." She grinned.

"But..." He got interrupted by a shout.

"You take that back Todd!"

"What?! It's true. That potato piece does look a lot like you."

"I am not a potato you imbecile zombie!" Damian had jumped on his chair with a spoon raised high, pointing at Jason.

The older boy just snickered, leaning back a bit to avoid the Spoon of Doom.

"Damian, don't attack your brother. Jason, stop provoking him." Bruce interfered.

Tim picked out a bean and threw it at them randomly.

"No, go on. This's getting good."

"Tim please..."

Jason had raised a chicken leg to block out Damian's attack and now the Spoon of Doom had flown all the way to Cass's plate, hitting one of her vegetables. 

And then one of Damian's elbows knocked at Dick's plate and now there was sauce on the everywhere. Dick looked quite heartbreaking at that. 

Tim grinned at Bruce before throwing another bean at Jason and Damian, then took joy in seeing the horrified look on his adoptive father's face.

Damian had now resorted to trying to hit Jason with a knife. Not exactly sharp but still enough to make someone bleed. Jason, on the other hand, had dumped all the food from one plate onto Dick's and used that plate as a shield to protect himself. His other hand held the chicken leg from earlier so he could occasionally bit into it.

You know, you couldn't just waste Alfred's cooking.

He heard Cass laughing from next to him and found himself grinning even wider. His sister then threw small pieces of vegetable at their brothers and encouraged them even further.

"Cass, sweetheart..."

"Fun, Dad." She pouted.

"Please don't encourage them..."

"Fun." She emphasized.

Bruce looked like he was asking for strength from above now. From the other side, Jason jumped out of his seat to avoid getting stabbed and Dick had lunged forward to wrestle the knife out of Damian's hand. Apparently, knives were off limit. Forks weren't.

Damian grabbed a fork from the table and with a loud battlecry, he went for Jason.

Tim had managed to pick up a handful of beans to throw at them. Cass was cheering from her seat. And Dick was trying to look unamused but the small upward quirk on his lips told a different story.

Jason ducked under the fork and they chased each other around the table with the older laughing and the younger shouting. Bruce had tried to grab either of them several times and failed.

Jason was now using Cass to hide from Damian. The younger boy stopped before them, glaring hard.

"Step aside Cassandra, so I can put this zombie back to his place."

Cass's eyes widened at how Damian had called her and smiled at him. She glanced back at Jason with a mischievous glint in her eyes before speaking.

"No killing."

"Sis, you traitor!" Jason gasped dramatically while the younger boy huffed.

"Fine. I will not slay him, but there is no guarantee I will spare him from my wrath."

Cass nodded and stepped aside, leaving Jason without any protection. Damian jumped, the fork high in the air...

...just to be caught by Bruce, who had leaped from behind him. Tim startled, crashed into the table and sent one of the plates flying to Dick.

"Alright time out! Time out!" Bruce took the fork away and dragged Damian away from Jason. 

Tim looked down at the sauce stain on his shirt and grimaced. Alfred would not be please. Speaking of...

"Where's Alfred?"

Silence fell upon them and Tim stepped away from the mess on the table.

"Right...I'm just gonna..." Dick dashed down the hallway, probably went looking for Alfred.

He came back with the old butler in tow, who took a quick look at the mess before shaking his head disapprovingly.

"I went out to check on the garden for five minutes, and come back to this. Anyone care to explain?"

"It was Jason and Damian." Tim quickly provided.

"Yes. Jay and Dami." Cass confirmed.

Alfred's "I'm-not-mad-just-disappointed" gaze fell upon the two said boys, one of them grinned sheepishly and the other glared at the ground. 

Please, take a wild guess which was which.

"You know that's not completely true." It was now Bruce's turn to smile evilly at them.

"Of course it was Jason and Damian to create this whole mess. But...you both have encouraged them to continue to do so." The man turned to his oldest. "Thanks for being the only child I'm proud of."

"Dad!" Cass frowned.

"B, come on!" He groaned.

"So it's settled. Master Jason and Master Damian will clean the dining room up while Master Tim and Miss Cass will be in the kitchen to help me."

"Sorry guys." Dick waved his hands around. "But I can help too. Providing emotional support and encouragement is very important too."

"Big brother!" Cass poked Dick on his side. 

"Really?!" Jason narrowed his eyes.

"Thank you Master Dick. Now off you go. All of you."

They ended up cleaning for a good hour. By the time they had finished, he was exhausted. As the four of them dragging themselves upstairs, he could see Dick chuckling to himself from a few feet behind.

The dick.

They all eventually bunched up in Cass's room because this was usually considered neutral ground. Dick had gone to find several more blankets and pillows so they could make themself comfortable.

When Tim finally cuddled up between Jason and Cass, he remembered.

"Hey Jay, what about the prank?" He whispered.

"Hmm..."

"Jay...it's your idea."

"Right...sorry. So tired. Can we do it tomorrow night or some other time?" Jason mumbled, half asleep.

This is pathetic.

"Fine."

He snuggled against his brother's side and closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh. Not even ten seconds later, he heard Dick whisper-calling for him. Tim fluttered his eyes open to see Dick petting Cass's hair and hugging Damian close to his chest.

"Timmy, hey...the prank?"

"Jay said tomorrow night. He's tired."

"Okay fine. But we're doing it."

"Never say we're not. Go to sleep Big Bird."

"G'night Baby Bird."

He shut his eyes again and tried to sink into the blanket. Jason mumbled something unintelligible and draped an arm over his torso. From his other side, Cass buried her face into his hair and curled up into herself.

Tim yawned, eyes watered. He so needed sleep. He breathed in the scent of Alfred's detergent on the blankets and their clothes as it lulled him into his dreamland.

Everything was good.

 

----------------------------- 

The next night, Jason had stored all the cheese and leftover meat in his mini freezer. Dick had somehow managed to find an oversized piece of bread and hid it away very carefully. Tim had made sure they got enough vegetables and tomatoes. And he had installed a camera in a dark corner of Bruce's room.

They were so gonna get yelled at.

But it'd be worth it.

Besides, the prank made Jason happy and less broody so he was not gonna deny his brother of this.

The clock struck three in the morning and the operation "Bruce the Sandwich" began.

After many discussions, they had argeed that getting past Damian, Cass and Alfred was the hardest. Making their dad into a sandwich (that sounded like murder, Jason loved it so much) was child play. But not like the movie. Nuh uh.

Almost ten minutes later and they had successfully completed their first task. The three carried the food to Bruce's bedroom and while Dick and Jason waited outside the door, Tim went to the kitchen to get the peanut butter jar. Just a small reminder of the the prank's precedence.

He came back not even three minutes later and they all crept into the man's room.

They started with filling the bed with meat and cheese, making sure nothing touched the man himself but as soon as he moved, all the squishy leftovers would startle the man out of his skin.

Tim got some peanut butter on the veggies and stuck them to Bruce's face and neck. He hoped it'd stick until morning. He then got some more using his thump and swiped it across his dad's forehead while whispering.

"Simba..."

Dick snorted from the foot of the bed and lost his balance, which resulted in him almost fell off the bed. Jason, who was next to him, put his hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing. Tim could still hear a low chuckle coming from his brother's throat.

"If Bruce is Simba, then you are Rafiki." Jason said.

"Hey," Dick whispered. "The Bat King. Coming to theatres this 30th February."

"There's no 30th February."

"Yea no shit Sherlock. That's why I say it."

Bruce twitched slightly and Tim almost jumped on Jason. But the man soon returned to being still. Tim turned around, face scrunched up as if to tell his brothers to finish their prank.

"The bread."

"Oh right. Fuck! Where do I put it?"

"You're half sitting on it Dickhead. That goes on B's head dumbass."

"I didn't sit on it Little Wing."

"Uh huh. Sure..."

Tim placed the bread on Bruce's forehead. It did look a bit squashed. Oh well...

He booped Bruce's nose lightly with one finger which still had peanut butter on it. The man now sure looked like a lion with his coloured nose.

They discarded the tomato slices around and the final piece ended up on Bruce's nose. They tried to balance it but it always tipped over. So they out it on the bridge of the man's nose, right between his eyes.

Dick left behind a piece of paper saying:

"Here's your breakfast in bed. Bon appétit!"

Then they ran off into the night...

 

...and to the bathroom to wash their hands 'cause going to bed with dirty hands didn't seem so fun.

They were so doomed by the way.

3:54 in the morning now and they all but passed out on Jason's bed. Tim got sandwiched by his two older brothers. He didn't think he minded sleeping like this.

"Can't wait 'til morning." Dick murmured.

"This is morning ya dipshit." He heard Jason's low grumble and snuggled even further against his brother's chest.

"Can we sleep?"

"Fine. Listen to the little shit and sleep already Dickhead."

"Goodnight." Tim didn't even have the strength to tell Dick that it should have been "good morning".

 

They woke up to the sound of yelling.

Tim rubbed at his eyes and looked around in confusion for a few seconds before the memories came back to him.

"Holy shit! B's up!" Dick shouted excitedly and dragged him up, hitting Jason by accident, which made his second oldest brother growl at them.

"The prank, Jay. Get your ass up now!"

"Fucking hell Dick! Slow down."

"That's your prank dude! Do you want to see the result or not?!"

"Right, let's go."

They scrambled to their feet and dashed down the hall. Standing by the doorway of his room was Bruce, with veggies still sticking to his face, though one or two pieces had fallen already. The peanut butter on his forehead stayed intact.

Tim fished out his phone to take a bunch of pictures while Jason was still busy laughing at their dad's face. The man still looked confused and scared (which was unusual to others, not to his kids) with pieces of food randomly falling from his body to the floor.

Upon seeing them, Bruce bellowed.

"BOYS!"

"Shit, let's go before he gets food on us." Jason pushed him down the hallway and then they were running away.

"RICHARD JOHN, JASON PETER, TIMOTHY JACKSON, COME BACK HERE! YOU ARE ALL GROUNDED!"

"Dickie and I are adults!" Jason called back.

"Did you just..." Tim spluttered. "But I am not, Jay!"

"Yeah, your problem, kid."

"Oh fuck you. He's gonna ground you anyway."

"Hm sure..."

They hid in Tim's room and the older two barricaded the door and windows with his furniture, singing "Do You Hear The People Sing" while doing so.

"What we're gonna do with the pictures?" He heard Jason asked. Tim grinned.

"Just so you know, Twitter is going to have a field day."

End.

[cinaminho]

Raven dressed in black | Mark L.

╰ Genre: Fluff,, a lil Angst???

╰ Pairing: Mark Lee x Reader ft. Dream

╰ Warnings: I fucked up the request

Request:I was wondering if you could do a mark imagine from nct where he’s like the bad boy of the town along with the dreamies and you come to town and he grows this big crush on you and finally talks to you after he protects you from these guys trying to hit on you? Bad boy mark would be 🤤

// this is short because I have other things to write, also sorry I forgot that you wanted Mark to protect you from some guys WITH the Dreamies I put him protecting you FROM the Dreamies, they're not making passes at you they're however picking on you.//

. .

Moving into the city of ___ , you were excited to be near more of your family , making new friends, the town was a sight to see as well. Your home was beautiful and not too far from this cafe your relatives had told you about before you moved here you honestly just wanted to try out the food maybe make a few friends as stated before that was one of your goals . You wasted no time in unpacking, not properly setting things up, but unpacking before heading out to the themed cafe you were told so much about, you bundled up nicley grabbing your much needed pre winter outer wear then dashing towards the door and out into the cold bitten streets of your new hometown.

There was so much to see as you looked all around admiring the town house buildings, greeting everyone else who graced the side walks as well, you stuffed your hands deep into your pockets nothing but quietness around you since you were focused on remembering the directions that were instructed to you on how to get to the cafe, you were so focused that as you stared down at your shiney brown combat boots you didn't notice that the sharp corner you turned was occupied with people, you let out a quiet umph from the impact of a clear body part. You Shook your head shortly shutting yours before opening them and being met with a group of boys, five to be exact and neither looked happy, one had Charcoal black hair, another with orange, there was one with Dark Brown, followed by a pink haired fellow, the last one was a blonde who looked the nicest out of them all.

You gulped the words were caught in your throat your eyes were glewed to the boy towering skigg over you in front if you. The charcoal haired didn't look happy that you came in contact with his back.

"I believe the proper way to ask someone to move is by saying excuse me, not bumping into them." A sarcastic smirk Graced his lips.

You scrunched your brows together . "That was an accident , I'm sorry, but maybe you shouldn't just crowd the sidewalk with your friends, Mr. uhh " you looked for any sort of identification , there low and behold it was attached to his Jacket , "Jeno." You shrugged.

The boys behind him ooh'd at your boldness, yoy weren't the type to take bull from anyone and These guys were not going to be any different. The evident pissed off Expression that the male now identified as Jeno, was murderous.

"Amazed at your flip tongue and your obvious oblivious mind, you clearly don't know who you're talking to." He spoke through gritted teeth as he stepped closer invading more of your space.

"I do actually, it's a guy who doesn't know his own name otherwise it wouldn't be sewed to your jacket." You smuggly spoke your tone was innocent as can be, though.

You could feel a dangerous tension building between you two. His glare was beyond cold and yours matched his. Soon before it could escalate two of the others stepped in front of him. It was the Cotton candy pink haired guy along with the blonde.

"Now hold on you think you can just talk to him any sort of way?"

"Shut it Chenle, I think that's enough Jeno she's not even worth a second of your energy."

You scoffed amused at his attempt to defuse the situation. "And you are?"

The boy wore an arrogant smirk "Jaemin."

"C'mon let's go nobody wants to stand here all day leave the dull nube alone, we'll catch her a different day." The tanned skinned boy said.

"What Haechan Said." Jaemin agreed.

You crossed your arms letting out a heavy sigh already over this entire ordeal. "Look I'm just trying to get to a cafe."

"Are you now?" Jeno sneared sarcastically.

"Yeah she is now let her through."

Your mouth open but soon closed as an unidentified male spoke up and you had no idea where his voice came from. You looked confused as you peaked over the taller male's shoulders trying to see who said that.

"Mark why the hell did you have to ruin the fun?" Chenle whined, so the guy's name was Mark? Apparently and soon his silhouette appeared, he was a bit shorter than the rest, behind him was a more innocent looking young man, all together making seven boys present.

"Move out of her face." An strawberry blond haired boy said before pushing Jeno back away from you with slight force, "and watch your mouth Chenle." Mark added.

The three boys who were once surrounding you moved back, so these guys could put them in their places? Interesting.

"Mark she-"

"I don't care, girls are never a target." He dismissed Jeno quickly. The Boy you clearly knew as Mark now didn't break eye contact with you though his statement was directed to Jeno. He wore black windbreaker hoodie over an all black turtle neck, black dress pants, and slighlty beat up Black and white vans, his Raven hair brought the entire look together along with his sharp yet handsome facial structure. He was expressionless, being honest he looked the most intimidating as of now , he clearly knew these boys.

"Who are you?" You asked observing the blank faced male who you felt was staring into your soul he took a moment before replying.

"I'm Mark Lee." He simply answered. You nodded slowly.

"I'm guessing this is your possy?" You proclaimed gesturing to the six boys behind him. He looked back at them before looking back to you with a small side ways smirk.

"Something like that."

"I'm Renjun, actually." The Strawberry blonde corrected you just gave him a slight nod before turning your attention back to Mark.

"So what're you like the bad boys in town?" With each question your face grew more amused with the responds you got.

Mark contemplated. "You could say that." Mark's eyes deepened into yours though you didn't think they could, you barely broke the contact yourself. He stepped closer to you making you revision the personal space invasion that Jeno had previously issued you.

"But I'm the worst." His voice was low enough for only you to hear. You wanted challenge his statement.

"How so?"

Mark rolled his eyes annoyed by all the questions. "Look I just did you a favor by stopping my friends from harassing you so do me a favor and stop asking questions, yes?" He sassily replied, you were taken aback by his sudden snap.

You simply held your hands up in surrender. "okay I'll be going then." Mark simply moved Aside and gestured for you to step past.

"Move Aside boys." Renjun spoke pushing the others back who mumbled disappointed that their fun was ruined.

"Thank you, Mark." You said softly in which Mark gave a temporary smile.

You soon began walk through the small sea of boys you could feel their Fury gazes on you but you didn't care.

"Wait a sec, what's your name?" Mark suddenly spoke, you turned around swiftly, "Y/n." You replied.

Mark Looked as if he was contemplating something but no one knew what and after a few moments he looked at you.

"Well Y/n, to assure you that no one else will bother you on your walk, how 'bout I walk you the rest of the way." He insisted. After his proposal was Heard a chorus of childish whines and groans were heard from the others except Renjun who Smirked.

You were speechless at his sudden suggestion but then you thought about it, you did say you wanted to make friends so maybe he could be one, bad boy and all.

"I don't see why not." You shrugged smiling before turning back to begin walking again. As you walked you heard a series of agitated comments.

"Mark You can't be serious!"

"You're leaving us for her?"

"What you've taken a liking to this nube?"

"That's enough, Renjun, take them back to the dorms." Mark spoke making the boys more whiney. You laughed to yourself quietly. Soon Mark caught up to you. You looked over at him.

"What made you change your mind?"

Mark cleared his throat rolling his shoulders back a bit. "Well it's like My friends said, I may have taking a liking to you, consider yourself lucky."

You cackled at his statement. "Oh yeah, I'm so lucky to be chosen by the mysterious Raven haired bad boy, Mark Lee. He's taken a liking to me after what? Fifteen- Twenty minutes." You snarkily replied.

Mark looked at you nonchalantly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yes exactly." He confirmed as if you were serious though clearly sarcastic.

"Oh.." Was all you said.

"As a matter of fact this can count as our first date, I'll go in with you and buy us some cocoa or something." He declared.

"Don't I get say in this?" You laughed.

Mark sighed defeated. "Fine, would you like this to be our first date?" His tone a bit rude.

"No." You quickly answered barely letting him get his words through. Mark's lips formed an O shape it look like he didn't know how to take the rejection, or what he thought was rejection.

"I'd count this as us getting to know each other as friends and that'll determine if we'll ever have a first date. Deal?"

Mark Playfully glared. "I don't do negotiations, it's really my way or no way."

"Well not this time Mr. Lee."

Mark was clearly Reluctant to agree and it took a good minute before he nodded. "Alright but don't expect me to ever agree to your terms again in future."

"Right because that'd take away your bad boy aura." You chuckled.

Once again Mark looked as if was the most obvious thing in the world. "Yea exactly."

You instantly stopped laughing, yeah this would be an interesting Friendship that may or may not develope into a relationship in the future.

-

-

I apologize for royaly screwing up Anon's request I was tired when I wrote this, please forgive me ❤.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 18

First time reader click here

TWs/Summary: We stan ✨women in science✨. Bruce uwu. Twitter social media AU nobody asked for. Stephen and Tony are dicks and I'm not talking about their anatomy. Setting up mood for Bruce smut, ngl. PTSD makes things spicy. I'm depressed so please be kind ✌🏻💀🙃

"I really do wonder how can you two fit those egos of yours in your pants," I kept my tone forcefully casual, cheerful even. "Why don't you just fuck already?"

I was met with stunned silence. Suddenly, the room seemed far too large and the people in much too quiet, staring at me with various expressions of horror obvious in their faces. As the strange friendship began developing between me and the team, my "outbursts" - how Steve liked to call them - lessened considerably. I had no need to provoke them into giving me attention, just striking up a casual chat was enough. The Avengers were great conversationalists, to my surprise.

Tony and Stephen, when paired, were the exception. I could count on one hand the amount of times they successfully came to a conclusion without fighting like cats and dogs. It was like each man had made it a personal mission to verbally top the other, more often than not resulting in a thirty-minute shitshow ending with one storming off in a dramatic flourish. It was mind-boggling how two supremely intelligent men could not find a way to communicate efficiently without infuriating the rest of the team.

Plus me. One way or another, I was almost always around. In the beginning, it was hilarious to see the free circus but it got old really quickly when they couldn't decide on dinner or a movie, leaving the rest of us starving and bored. Or the great Cloak debate - that one lasted days and the fussy thing was so upset, it point blank refused to part from Peter for a substantial amount of time. It's pretty fucking creepy that a semi-sentient, ancient piece of outerwear watches you when you sleep - just sayin'. I personally interjected with my own snark and sass whenever Tony and Stephen got too heated, successfully drawing the attention to myself. The fight broke up and I had amazing sex with Tony later, it was a win-win scenario.

Yet, Tony and Stephen didn't stop. To me, their way of "talking" (and I use that term loosely) looked a lot like unresolved sexual tension. Stephen frequently used his greater height to tower over Tony in a childish attempt to establish dominance; the engineer was no rookie and responded with extravagant peacocking such as "subtly" tapping the bracelet that hosted his nanotech suit or parading at dinner in a $30,000 custom made designer outfit. Because Tony could.

I was pleasantly surprised when Natasha started laughing at my remark. Full-blown, belly laugh. Those were rare, coming from the Widow, her usual mirth was quiet, sophisticated, just like her. Deadly (adorable). Bucky followed suit, snorting together with Clint and Loki.

Steve looked none too pleased with me. But then again, was he ever? "Doll, don't be rude."

"Brat," Bruce said at the same time, palming his face.

"People always call me a brat. And guess what, Steve?" I popped my hip, twirling a cotton candy pink coloured Dum-Dum between my fingers. "What can you do about it? Nothing," I shrugged, leaning my head against Bruce's shoulder affectionately.

Steve just shook his head in disappointment. "Can we get back on topic? Please?"

"Captain, I think that Stark..." Strange began talking with Tony dramatically groaning in the background and I instantly tuned out the useless babble. Steve should've been smarter and revoked speaking rights from Tony and Stephen. Or asked Loki to magically render them both mute for ten minutes.

"You're not wrong," Bruce quietly whispered next to my ear. "Ten bucks says Wanda meddles and those two finally work out their frustrations," The scientist hid a grin against my head. I felt the amused, giddy energy radiating off him like a plasma beam.

"I don't even have to bet," I rolled my eyes. "If she doesn't do it, I will."

Both Tony and Stephen were throwing me equally infuriated glances. One promised me a good, hard fucking and the other saw me a short, poisonous lecture on appropriate behaviour in the nearest future - you can guess which is which. If I had it my way, I'd skip the lecture and go straight to a hot, filthy threesome with two men twice my age. I wasn't blind, Strange was hot as hell and could be decent and even nice once in a blue moon.

He could, but he wouldn't be. I wanted that raw, unadulterated lust, tension so concentrated it walked the razor's edge between violent craving and repulsion. Ever since the incident with Clint, I had this ugly mess inside of me, like a live wire about to snap. My brain was constantly racing, darting between how utterly useless I am in a group of supers and embracing my normal-ness, amplifying it by hosting game nights and spending time trying to convince people to start a dungeons and dragons campaign. Or something.

My sleep was like Swiss cheese, riddled with holes where I stayed awake for one or two hours at a time in the middle of the night after waking up sweaty, with my heart hammering out of my chest. Sometimes I dreamt of Clint's lifeless, sickly white body, sometimes the whole room flooded with blood and I couldn't stop it no matter what, there was so much of it, I drowned in it, I startled up with the taste of it in my mouth. Rarely, the worst of it came - the one where Clint was alive as millions of millions of little fluorescent, poisonous jellyfish burst out of him and he screamed and screamed and screamed...

I had PTSD. Yay, me. As if my uselessness wasn't enough of a burden, my brain decided for me that it wasn't good enough that I saved Clint and now it was punishing me for being close to a group of people who routinely saved the WORLD.

I contemplated my usual habits - going to a party, getting trashed and dancing until my legs were numb. I just wanted to shut my brain off for a moment, give it a hard reset so-to-say, but with Tony on my back like a jet-pack, I didn't doubt he'd show up to the place and drag me out of there even if I was kicking and screaming. And he was a Stark, a billionaire, so visiting my dad in Cali wouldn't be possible on my own. Tony would gas up the jet and the rest of the team would find and excuse to tag along, too. As much as I loved being the baby menace who could get away with anything, I hated the way they all herded me, like I was an actual child. I couldn't get away from myself, not even for a moment.

I had the backup-backup plan and I was going to have to execute it. Desperate times, desperate measures. "I don't doubt y'all enjoy listening to Tony and Steph flirt," The nickname escaped unmoderated from my lips before I could catch myself. "But what are we doing for Halloween? I need to know if I gotta get a costume," Bruce chuckled next to me and wrapped an arm around me, happy for the distraction. Unlike me, the scientist was obligated to listen and participate in the avengers-themed discussion. Which was difficult because the engineer and the sorcerer constantly bickered, inadvertently taking over the talk.

"Halloween?" Steve groaned.

"We should do something," Bucky side-eyed his boyfriend. "For the children." Something told me he wasn't thinking of the children, at all. The man was positively leering, probably thinking about what kind of a tight suit he could convince Steve to squeeze into.

"A party!" Tony immediately exclaimed, interrupting Stephen mid-setence.

"Tony, no," Steve stated firmly.

"Tony, YES!" Clint perked up. "A snack bar. A bar-bar."

"I will not be helping you all if you get alcohol poisoning," Stephen crossed his arms.

"So it's a party," I stated firmly, throwing a contemplating look at Wanda and Pietro. The twins looked unsure but excited. I knew I could count on fellow young people to support my decision to have fun, dance a little, drink a little. Let loose. To nail my point, I turned to Bruce with a mischievous smirk. "Fifty bucks says Stephen is too stuck up to show up in costume."

"Beg pardon?!" The sorcerer exclaimed. His eyebrows threatened to meet his hairline.

"I think you give him too little credit, Princess," Bruce winked at me and we solemnly shook hands. It was great having a fellow partner in mischief. Loki's approving smirk just sealed the deal for me.

"It's not my fault you sometimes act like you have a stick up your butt," I gave in the way of explanation, shrugging my shoulders innocently in Stephen's direction. "I'm just pointing out the obvious."

"I don't dare to imagine what's been up yours," The sorcerer retorted dryly, in an uncharacteristically childish fashion, arms still crossed. It almost looked like he was pouting.

"Tony," I simply said, leering salaciously at the man.

"Ooh, kinky," Clint reached over and we promptly high-fived each other in the wake of multiple embarrassed groans emanating around the room. "Strange, you're a boring old man, get over it."

"And you regularly end up in dumpsters, Barton," Strange retorted quickly. "Not my idea of fun."

"You wouldn't know fun if it hit you in the face!" Tony grinned triumphantly, confident in his superiority over Strange. Look at that, the team was doing the work for me and I didn't even have to try.

"I'll show you fun," Stephen retorted darkly. It was obvious the man was planning something.

"Ok, boomer," I raised my eyebrows in muted satisfaction before turning around and grabbing Bruce to drag along with me. "I'm confiscating your best scientist to amuse myself. I am bored. We will go and do actual science whilst y'all argue. Bye."

My patience had run out. We were examining the parasites we found in the murder-anthropods-from-space, codename MAFS, courtesy of yours truly, and their amazing properties to penetrate cell membranes and feed on metals in organic life forms. Without Bruce's help I understood maybe half of it but he had the patience of a saint and dutifully and understandably explained to me the finer points of studying aliens. Signing half a dozen NDAs was never more worth it.

Steve's sigh consisted of 99% suffering and 2% disappointment. Natasha face-palmed silently in the corner, clutching a mug of coffee, a poster child for existential dread.

"Wait for me," Tony whined, going for the door and promptly being stopped by Steve pointing out the team needing his input on one mission or another. The engineer sighed. "Baby girl, don't let the green mean to start any experiments without me." Tony instructed, pointing an accusatory finger in our direction.

I clutched at Bruce dramatically, feigning hurt feelings and was rewarded with a swift motion of his arms. I shrieked delightfully at being thrown over the scientist's shoulder as he hastened his pace towards the elevator, hightailing it out of there. "I'd never snitch on science daddy," I wiggled my eyebrows in Tony's direction, sticking a hand down the back pocket of Bruce's pants, dangling over his shoulder like a happy sack of potatoes.

The lab smelled strongly of alcohol and bitter chemicals, the solution that Bruce developed to ensure the optimal state of the alien pathogens. The man's genius never ceased to amaze me: Bruce came up with the needed formula in the span of a few hours while running low on sleep, post a Hulk-out session.

We put on our protective gear - "science onesies" I called them - along with a respirator and goggles and set to the segregated part of the lab where the specimens were kept under a blue light. The glass wall between Bruce's and Tony's lab was dimmed; I reflected in it, looking positively futuristic in my double-stacked white platformed boots and white hazmat suit.

"Wait," I motioned to Bruce to come over.

"Oh, right, our music," He was already half-way to being in total Science Mode. "Friday, please put on the "Get Schwifty" playlist, 60% volume."

The playlist that me and Bruce came up with for our lab sessions. The man was such an adorable dork. Thirty percent my music, thirty percent of his indie rock shit and forty percent 00's bops. In other words, utter perfection.

I finally managed to fish out my phone from my pants. "No, let's take a selfie," I struck an impressive pose and pointed the camera as Avril Lavigne sung the first verse to Sk8r Boi.

Bruce laughed but abided by the request, giving me bunny ears in the photo, tapping the fingers of his other hand on my waist to the rhythm of the song.

"He was a skater boy, she said see ya later boy!" I sang along, switching my Instagram to stories and posting the short clip of us just vibing with the caption #sciencetime, Bruce laughing openly behind his respirator. I looked cute and silly in my outfit.

"Send the video to me, I'll post it on my Twitter," Bruce requested. I indulged him then put my phone away, ready to conquer the world of microbiology. Or die trying. Science was calling...

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie