#Putting your body between an innocent child and someone trying to kill them and refusing to back down no matter the odds?

[halyasgirl]

Villain.

Villain / Hero

Runaan, a villain and hero I very much hope to see this season.

[solarwonux]

89.  “Just let me finish this level and I swear I’ll go down on you all night.”

93.  “Fuck…did we use protection?”

twitch streamer!wonwoo x f!reader

w.c: 3.9k (honestly I think I forgot what drabbles were clearly lol)

warnings: some angst, smut, mutual masturbation, some slight panty stuffing, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, pregnancy scare, talks about plan b

note: excuse me everyone I literally love gamer and twitch streamer Wonwoo, but not everyone does. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one if you want more twitch!streamer wonwoo let me I will be happy to oblige, I have MANY ideas. Enjoy and please let me know your thoughts. 

p.s send me a prompt for either svt or bts or both. I will also happily oblige to that lol

Masterlist || Drabble game 

Watching Wonwoo play Zelda was not what you had expected when he had texted earlier asking you to come over. “Just let me finish this level and I swear I’ll go down on you all night.” He whispered against your lips in a half kiss when you walked in through his front door.

That had been over an hour and three completed levels ago. It was an empty promise long forgotten as he kept himself immersed in the game, talking enthusiastically about his day and random things his brain would conjure up on the spot. It was like you didn’t exist, and for the most part to his viewers, you didn’t. It wasn’t like you were his girlfriend or anything. Even if you were, you valued your privacy more than anything in the world. You preferred to work on your own things in the background away from his camera whenever you were over. This was something the two of you had mutually agreed to. 

Casual hangs and casual sex.

Lately, your relationship had become the product of most of your stress. You never knew where you stood with Wonwoo. Sometimes he would literally invite you over to keep him company while he streamed only to kick you out the second he finished. “I’m too tired, you should go.” He would say pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “I’ll see you later.” 

Of course, those moments were overshadowed by the soft touches he left imprinted on your skin. By the sweetness of the words he shared with you and only you whenever he wasn’t working. It made you want more. More of him, more of his attention, and more of whatever was going on between the two of you. But that was something you refused to bring up afraid that the only one harboring feelings for the other was you. 

Heartbreak was not in your plans for life, at least not for a while. 

You sighed, throwing your phone down onto the couch. Your patience was wearing thin. Maybe it had to do with the fact you were already having a bad day, and Wonwoo’s indifference towards you wasn’t helping. When you had gotten his text earlier, you couldn’t help but feel all giddy inside. The two of you hadn’t seen each other in a few days with work schedules being all over the place and not aligning. It was something to look forward to, not necessarily because of the sex--which was always amazing. But you really just wanted to talk to him. Lay down with his arms wrapped around you while you complained about work and how frustrating your coworkers were being.

By the looks of it, you weren’t going to get any of that, not even what he had promised when you had first walked in. You were tired, your clothes were starting to annoy and you wanted to cry. If it wasn’t for the fact that his front door was in line with his camera, you would’ve left already.

Wonwoo could sense something was wrong with you. Every time you sighed it felt like you were punching him in the gut. He really meant what he had said when you walked in earlier. He also meant the quiet I love you he mumbled underneath his breath when you walked past him and into the living room. He wasn’t sure when he had fallen in love with you, just that months ago he had woken up and you were the only thing he could think of. Every time he held you in his arms the three little words bubbled up in the back of his throat, wishing he could bring himself to finally say it, but his fear held him back. Afraid that you didn’t feel the same way.

“Alright, you know what I think that’s enough for tonight.” Wonwoo smiled into the camera, trying to keep up with the chat as they begged him not to go yet. “I have to go, my girlfriend is over and I want to spend time with her. Anyway, same time next week Monday guys.” Wonwoo nodded, stopping the stream. Once he was positive that he had turned everything off he felt his shoulders relax and leaned back in his chair. He closed his eyes for a second before opening them again, the panic surging through his veins was unbearable. He turned around in his chair meeting your equally shocked face.

He royally fucked up. He just confessed to his audience without meaning to confess. He had told his audience that you were his girlfriend and he hadn’t even asked you yet. The surprise and speech he had worked on all week, the reason he took a break from streaming until tonight, was for nothing. He had gotten ahead of himself and he didn’t know what to do now. Or how to fix it.

“G-Girlfriend? Wait you have a fucking girlfriend?” You stood up from his couch, blinded by anger. “What the fuck Wonwoo, when were you going to tell me? Before or after you fucked me?” You shouted, your heart was beating fast as you turned around to gather up your stuff.

Unbelievable. Here you were distracted, thinking about how cute he looked while he blamed his failure on his character. The pout that had formed on his lips as he pushed his glasses up his nose and blew out a raspberry, moving aside the strands of his newly dyed blonde hair. The frustration you had felt earlier, forgotten, replaced with admiration. Only for it to come back after what he had said, this time fiery red and ready to burn everything it touched.

“Stop, no wait, I don’t have a girlfriend. At least not yet.” He spoke fast, his words blending with one another as he quickly made his way to you. He grabbed hold of your laptop and held it against his chest.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better, did you just call me down to ignore me and then fuck me one last time before you called it quits!” You said in disbelief reaching over for your laptop.

Wonwoo turned around facing away from you. “No that’s not...that’s not what...fuck, calm down please and just let me talk.” He pleaded as he sat down on his couch, your laptop still clutched tightly in his arms. It was your prized possession, it held the first three drafts of the novel you were working on. He knew you well enough to know that you hadn’t backed anything up no matter how many times he told you to do so. So, he was positive that as long as he held onto it like his life depended on it (because it did) you wouldn’t leave without it.

You crossed your arms in front of you ”I am calm, but I don’t know if I want to listen to what you have to say.”

Wonwoo cringed, he was more nervous than what he had intended to be. He had an entire speech planned. Wrote it down, even got Jihoon to proofread it. He had performed it in front of his bathroom mirror every morning and night. He thought he had it in the bag, pumped up his chest a few times before opening his front door to you earlier. Yet, the second he saw you, he forgot everything he had planned to say. This is mainly why he had spent such a long time streaming. Hoping that the distraction would somehow help him remember.

It didn’t.

“Wonwoo, I swear if you don’t start talking in the next five seconds I’m leaving and suing you for holding my laptop hostage.”

Wonwoo sighed and slapped his forehead lightly before turning to look at you, “okay, I don’t think that’s allowed bu-”

“It is if I say that you stole it trying to steal my work, I don’t know I’ll find a way.” You shrugged, earning a glare from Wonwoo. You knew he hated whenever someone interrupted him while he was in the middle of saying something. It was something you would do to him out of spite, but in your humble opinion this time he really did deserve it. Though, it didn’t make you feel as good as you had hoped, “fine sorry, you can continue.” You sighed and sat down on his coffee table.

Wonwoo put your laptop down and leaned over his elbows taking your hands in his. “I love you and I want you to be my girlfriend. I know we agreed to just keep this casual but I can’t help the way my heart literally feels like it’s going to fall out of my ass whenever I’m with you. So yeah, I don’t have a girlfriend yet, because I haven’t asked you to be my girlfriend yet. But there’s no one else, only you, and I’m so-”

Wonwoo was cut off when he felt your body land on his, knocking the air out of his lungs. You hugged him, straddling his hips and burying your face into his chest, giggling. It felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders and you felt awful for assuming the worst and jumping to conclusions.

“Ask me ask me ask me ask me.” You bounced on his lap like a child. He groaned doubling over in pain.

He placed his hands on your hips to keep you from moving, “No now I know you’re actually trying to kill me.” He smirked and left a sweet kiss against your lips. A low chuckle running past his lips as he took in your pouting face, “fine, my love, my baby will you please be my girlfriend?” He cocked his head, his hands playing with the hem of your t-shirt.

“Yes, but only if you give me my laptop back and keep the promise you made me earlier.” You smiled innocently, playing with the hair on the back of his neck.

Wonwoo smirked, his hands made their way underneath your shirt. “No to the laptop, you work too much and I’m determined to back up everything on a hard drive later.” He rubbed his thumbs over the skin of your hips, slowly inching closer to the button of your jeans, “not sure I remember the promise I made earlier though, can you remind me?”

You kissed him slowly, tugging on his shirt, “you said you would finish a level before going down on me all night, and it’s four and a half levels later and I’m still waiting.” You whispered against his lips, before pulling away and bringing his shirt over his head, taking it off, throwing it behind him, aiming for the laundry basket, missing it completely, making you sigh. 

“Well you didn’t give me enough time to answer, but that can be arranged.” He pecked your lips, pushing your shirt up and over your head, throwing it behind him. “You’d have to step into my office though.” 

“Wonwoo, baby, don’t ever call your room your office.” You rolled your eyes and got up from his lap. 

He chuckled, shaking his head and stood up, “oh no that’s not what I meant, room comes later. Tonight we start in my office.” He says cheekily, pointing his thumb towards his gaming setup. Your eyes grew wide as saucers, only making him laugh harder while he pushed you towards his gaming chair. 

“Wait, you’re like not going to turn the camera on are you?” You said as he pushed you down to sit in which you obeyed. The colorful lights from his gaming setup kept you distracted as Wonwoo got down on his knees in front of you. 

“Nope, I’ve just always wanted to eat you out while you sat on my gaming chair. But maybe one day in the future if you want. You can take over my stream and play animal crossing while I secretly eat you out on camera.” He smirked, the evil glint behind his soft eyes sent shivers down your spine. The little exibitionist in him coming out. You’d be lying if you didn’t find the thought of it exciting. 

“One day.” You breathed, lifting your hips, helping him as he pulled down your pants. 

Wonwoo sent you a wink pushing your thighs apart with his hands, “We can also play overwatch together. That cute little vibrator you keep hidden in your bedside drawer, stuffed inside your pussy.” He placed his index finger over the wet patch that had formed over your panties, pushing in slightly. “And everytime you die I up the speed, see how long you can last before you have me begging to turn off the stream so you can cum.” Wonwoo kept pushing his finger in you, your panties sticking onto you like second skin. 

You threw your head back, digging your nails into the arms of his leather chair. “F-Fuck how long h-have you thought about this?” You lifted your hips as he added another finger. 

“Right now, or maybe a few times when you’re not around.” He leaned down kissing your mound lightly, “but seeing you like this, sprawled out, wet and waiting for my mouth is reinforcing those fantasies.” He worked his fingers diligently, pushing the thin material of your panties inside of you. He couldn’t wait to stuff you full with his cock later. 

You let out a whimper as his mouth traveled down to your clothed entrance. He removed his fingers licking up a stride, before taking one of your lips into his mouth and biting down on it gently. “W-Wonwoo please I want to feel your mouth.” 

“You are, aren’t you?.” He looked, staring at you through the rim of his round glasses before repeating his actions again making you whimper. “Take your bra off, play with yourself for me.” He left a chaste kiss in your inner thigh and sat back on his heels. He palmed himself over his black tracksuit pants as he watched you slowly unclasp your bra, letting the straps slide down your arms. You were teasing him, he knew this but he didn’t care. Seeing you get undressed for him was one of his favorite past times, especially because you always went extra slow for him. 

You threw your bra, not caring where it landed. You rolled your palms over your nipples, soft sighs running past your lips as you kept your eyes trained on Wonwoo. “Want to feel your hot tongue fucking me Woo.” You spread your legs even further pinching your nipples. You moved your hand down your body, your index finger playing with the seam of your panties. “Is this one of your fantasies? Me touching myself, sitting here?” You said, tilting your head to the side, moving your hand into your panties and running your index and middle fingers over your clit slowly.

“Yes.” He hissed, pushing his hand into his boxers grabbing onto his cock. “God, you make me so hard.” 

“Let me see please.” You arched your back, your fingers getting faster. Wonwoo nodded, wasting no time to free himself, his hand wrapped tightly around his length. His index finger connects with the small bead of precum that had formed, showing you how sticky and ready he was for you. 

“Want to taste?” You nodded letting out soft moans as you lifted your hips, into the palm of your hand, sticking your tongue out for him. “Fuck.” He cursed getting up on his knees, bringing his index finger up to your mouth. You closed your lips around it, swirling your tongue over the tip, savoring the salty substance. 

You pulled away with a pop, taking your fingers out of your panties and bringing them up to his lips. He took them in, moaning around them. “Do I taste good?” You said taking out your fingers from his mouth, moving them over his lips, wetting them further. 

“I’m going to have to take a closer look.” He said lowly, pushing your panties down in a haste. He spread your legs, licking up your slit, teasing your hole with his tongue. Being in between your legs was his second most favorite pastime. He savored every moment of it. Sometimes he would prolong your orgasm, keeping you on edge, so that when you came, your sweet substance would coat his lips, spilling down his chin and neck. It was the most beautiful site, one that only he had the privilege in witnessing. 

“Mmm, your tongue feels so good Wonwoo.” You pinched your nipple while tugging on the roots of his blonde hair, pushing his mouth closer. 

He moaned, slurping up your juices like you were his last meal. He wrapped his mouth around your clit, pulling it between his teeth before letting it go. “I want to be here forever but I don’t think I can last any longer without being inside of you.” He pushed two of his fingers inside of you. The feeling of your wet walls wrapped around his thick calloused fingers made his cock twitch. 

“B-But I-I want to cum.” You pouted, arching your back away from his chair, pushing your hips further into his hand. “Please, I’m so close already.” You pant, the knot in the pit of your stomach threatening to break. 

“Oh honey, you will. I’ll have you coming undone more than three times tonight.” He stated with determination and brought his mouth down again, closing his lips around your clit. He sucked harshly moaning sinfully. He fucked you faster with his fingers curling them upwards, reaching the soft mushy skin inside of you. 

“W-Wonwoo f-fuck don’t stop I-I’m so close.” 

Wonwoo let go of your swollen bud, slowing down his fingers as you clenched around them. “Look at me, I want to watch me while you cum.” You agreed with a pleasure filled sigh, watching as he pushed back his glasses. The sight almost had you coming undone. 

He put his mouth on you again, increasing the pace of his fingers. Babbles coming out of your mouth as you pulled on his hair, motivating him to go faster. The squelching sounds coming from your wet, hot pussy sounded like music to his ears. He bit down on your clit lightly, sending you over the edge, your cum coating his fingers, while you moaned his name in a sweet sinful prayer. His eyes burning holes into yours, the sight was award winning, his cock begging to be milked out. 

Wonwoo continued, riding out your orgasm. Until you felt the oversensitivity overcome your body “W-Woo, s-stop please.” You pushed his head carefully with the palm of your hand. 

He kissed the inside of both of your thighs before sitting up on his knees, taking your face into his hands. “You always look so pretty when you cum.” He pecked your lips repeatedly, before wrapping your arms around you hugging you tightly. “I love you so much.” He kissed your temple. 

“Why do you always get so mushy every time you make me cum?” You laughed gently, running your fingers down his back, making him shiver.

“You bring out in me, I can’t help it, stop complaining. I’m giving you time to recover before I bend you over my desk.” 

“Not complaining. I love it.” You kissed his cheek. “And I love you.” You whispered in his ear, taking his earlobe, pulling it between your teeth.. He groaned, swallowing hard, his getting tighter around you.

“My desk, then my couch, then my bed, then the shower, and then my bed again.” 

The sun had started to rise. It was five in the morning and your body was suddenly overcome with sleep, when Wonwoo pulled out of you one last time. He had kept true to his promise, literally fucked you the entire night, christening his apartment, except his kitchen. “If we have sex in the kitchen, the only thing I’ll be thinking about while I’m cooking is your mouth around my dick.” He said as he pushed you into the wide window of his living room, making you laugh. 

“Do you have to work today?” He placed a delicate kiss against your collar bone, laying his head on top of your chest. 

“It’s Saturday, why would I have work on Saturday?” You smiled sleepily, running your fingers through his hair. He sighed happily, pulling his sheets over the two of you and cuddling into you further. 

“You’re always working, I just wanted to ask.” He shrugged, raising his body enough to leave a chaste kiss against your lips. “Take a break today and I promise that by the time you wake up again I’ll have all of your files backed up into the harddrive I bought you.” 

You shook your head, placing both of your palms against his cheeks, squishing them. “Do you know how sexy you sound when you talk about computers.” 

“Nope, but you once told me to divide you in half when I was explaining finances to you. Now that I think about it, that statement can go both ways.” He smiled laying down on his back, bringing you along with him. Your eyes growing wide when you felt it running down your thighs. You sat up in panic, removing the sheets of your body to see if your silent hypothesis was correct.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, confused.

“Wonwoo, fuck...did we use protection?” 

Wonwoo pushed the covers away with his feet, sitting up quickly. He looked between your legs, his eyebrows furrowing in concern, “You’re on the pill still right?” 

“We changed my formula, I had to stop taking it for a few days.” You threw yourself down on his bed covering your eyes with your hands. The tears pooling against your eyes. You felt the bed dip next to you. Wonwoo took your hands in his, revealing your tearful eyes to him making him sigh. 

“Baby, don’t worry.” He kissed your cheeks repeatedly before sitting up again, “I’ll run down to the convenience store, get a plan b while you go take a bath. I’ll join you when I get back.” 

“W-What’s happens if I take the plan b and still miraculously end up pregnant, it’s only ninety five percent effective.” 

“Then I’ll be with you every step of the way. I meant what I said earlier, I love you so much and I plan to marry you and have kids with you one day. Don’t worry.” 

Your heart felt full. The butterflies erupting in the pit of your stomach. Wonwoo and you had shared many intimate dreams and desires before, but this one felt different. This was a dream the two of you shared and it made you feel at ease. “Okay, okay I will, just hurry up please.” 

Wonwoo scoffed, getting up from his bed, slipping on his sweatpants and sweatshirt. “Baby please don’t underestimate me. I’ll be back before you know it.” He leaned down giving you one last kiss before jogging over to his front door. “I love you.” He shouted, opening the door. 

You laughed sitting up on your elbows shaking your head, “I love you, now hurry I can feel your child cooking in me.” 

“Impossible, it takes roughly twenty four hours for my sperm to fertilize one of your eggs, and it’s literally been thirty minutes. Therefore you wou--”

“Wonwoo shut up just hurry.” 

“Okay I love you.” He said while closing his front door. You laughed shaking your head falling back on his bed. Your entire body was aching and though you were a little scared, given obvious circumstances. You had never felt so much warmth and happiness in your life. 

[babylooneytoonz]

Curly Hair and Blue Eyes, Just like yours

Pairing: Clark Kent x Fem! Reader

Summary: You decide to tell Clark Kent about the daughter he never knew he had with you, and he only wishes he had found out about her in a better situation.

Warnings: Kidnapping , Violence, Angst

[My Masterlist]

"Baby, we gotta go, come on out now," You called from the kitchen, having stuffed Piper's lunchbox into her tiny little bag that you had now propped on your shoulder. Little feet raced down the staircase of your home and you smiled, when you saw the little blue eyed girl, her hair neatly settled into two pigtails on either sides of her head, poked her head in. You knelt down in front of her, helping her put her bag on.

"Mommy? I wanna have Uncle Jerry's apple pie— " You smiled as you stood back up, quickly kissing the top of her head, as you took her hand in yours, your fingers clasping against the five year old's tiny ones.

"Well, if you are a good girl at school today, mommy might think of baking you one instead for dessert," you smiled down at her as the two of you walked out of your tiny two bedroom apartment in a tiny, cramped street in Metropolis where you had lived for years. You buckled her into the passenger seat, laughing to yourself listening to her as she had decided that now was the time to speak to her doll.

Being a single mother, there was so much on your plate always. Your days started with leaving Piper at Kindergarten, heading straight to the grocery store where you worked after leaving her. Four hours later you drove back to her school, picked her up and brought her back to the store with you, where you fed her and let her play around at the back, until 4 pm when finally, you ended your shift and the two of you drove your way back home.

You straightened the crease on your shirt, leaning against the fence along with the other young mothers who were waiting to collect their wards from kindergarten, just like you were until the bell rang somewhere inside, and a flurry of kids arrived, like bees floundering in the air.

You knelt down, throwing your arms out at the sight of your daughter who pushed herself into you, and you kissed her on her nose, and she giggled.

"Mommy, guess who vi- vitit— " She stammered, trying to say the word but she couldn't.

"Visited?" You asked, smiling at her, and she nodded.

"Visi- ted today."

You pulled yourself up, taking her hand in yours as you began walking with her towards the car parking, glancing down at her every ten seconds or so.

"Superman!!" She excitedly screamed, clapping as you opened the car door for her. The smile that was earlier on your lips dropped at the mention of him, and instead, a hollow look now ghosted your eyes as you regarded her briefly, giving her a fake smile and nodded, buckling her into the passenger seat, "Hm, I see. Why was he there?"

The car ride back to the store was a quiet one from your end, where only Piper spoke telling you of how the Superman had visited the kindergarten today, spent time with the children, telling them how they all were strong enough to grow up and be Supermen and Superwomen themselves. There were times when you snorted, not win disbelief, quickly masking it with a fake laugh, listening to your daughter talk about him.

You hated him, atleast you thought you did. You realized, the more you listened to her describe, Clark Kent was just the same— just the way you remembered him to be six years ago, when you had last met him.

How were you supposed to tell the innocent little child what Superman used to be to you?

Six years back, he had left you, leaving you broken hearted, and had walked out of your life, without giving you a reason as to where had you gone wrong in your relationship with him. No matter how much you tried, pleading and begging him to reconsider, it appeared as though he had already made up his mind.

"[Y/N], this will hurt for a while, and then you will be okay, trust me."

How the hell were you supposed to trust him when he was the one responsible for the excruciatingly painful heartbreak that you had witnessed?

You watched him, followed the news, watching every single success that Superman attained, his face plastered to your television screen, his charming boyish smile tugging at your heartstrings but you still felt happy, knowing how he was saving the world. Although, ironically, he had done nothing to save your crumbling relationship.

You would have still forgiven him, had you not found out, just a month after he had left you, that you were pregnant.

At first, you thought that Clark deserved to know— after all, he had every right to be in his child's life, and you were no one to take that boon away from him, or your child. Sucking it up, you had forced yourself to go to the Daily Planet building, to talk to Clark, to tell him what you had found out.

You didn't. You couldn't. Because he looked happy with Lois Lane. So you left.

Your home smelt like a freshly baked apple pie, as you stood against the kitchen counter, the baked goodie laying in front of you just like you had promised your little girl. Outside, in the living room, you could hear the television on, as Piper watched her favourite cartoon, her chuckling audible to you, which made you smile. Your golden retriever, Berry, nudged her head against your leg, causing you to bend slightly so you could pet the top of her head before she scampered off to be with her best friend once more.

"Piper, baby. Berry wants to go out."

The little girl dashed into the kitchen upon hearing your words, her excited eyes glimmering with delight as she began looking up at you.

"Mommy, can I take her out?"

You thought for a minute, planning to refuse at first but then you gave up, because the two of you, your baby girl and your furry baby both looking at you with big, googly eyes that you couldn't resist.

"Fine but stay close to the front gate, and inside. There's a lot of traffic outside, love. Mommy's gonna be watching you from the window here, alright?" You gave her a smile, watching as the two of them walked off, the dog first, followed by the girl— smiling at how considerate the big dog was around her tiny form.

While you were readying the plates, setting the dinner table, you momentarily made sure to glance out of the window, from where you could see them both, running around, being the big goofballs the two of them were. What you failed to see, was a dark hooded man, standing by your fence, watching the girl carefully, observing.

A few minutes passed by, and you decided that it was time to go out and fetch the two back inside, when you heard Berry mediating between loud barks, and pained whines. Your eyes widened, as you ran out of the house, on bare foot, the pads of your feet grazing against the grass when you saw two men, throwing your daughter into the back of a car, Berry having tied ruthlessly by her neck to the tree, the hold so hard that she was almost suffocating. By the time you ran to the gate the car was already turning down the street, until it finally disappeared out of view and you fell to your knees, screaming, crying, your heart pounding inside your chest. Someone had taken your daughter.

Finally, after two minutes of screaming your heart out, you leapt to your feet freeing Berry from the leash that had her pinned to the tree, tears still streaming down your face as you ran inside, grabbing your phone and your car keys.

There was only one who could bring her back, and there was nothing stopping you from asking from his help, because only he could do it— find her from whichever corner of Metropolis they were hiding her and bring her back.

At some time between you driving recklessly through the streets of Metropolis to the time you finally reached the Daily Planet building once again, the sky started pouring, heavily. You parked your car in the parking lot opposite to the building and without caring, you stepped out into the rain, racing your way into the building.

"Clark Kent, please, it's urgent," you literally slammed your moist fists against the desk of the office receptionist, her eyes widening when she saw the condition you were in— your hair and your outfit drenched in the rain, sticking to you, your body trembling with cold.

"Uh, sure, but who do I say is asking for him?"

"[Y/N], and please, tell him it's urgent."

You began rubbing the side of your arms fervently, trying to keep yourself warm, as the receptionist pulled the receiver to her ears, and looked up at you briefly, "Mr. Kent, a Miss [Y/N] is here. She, uh, says it's urgent, and it does look like she is in a state of.. emergency."

The receptionist disconnected the phone, slowly placing the receiver back. She looked up at you, and informed you that Clark was on his way now to see you. You began biting the insides of your cheeks— a sudden nervousness killing you from the inside. How were you going to tell him? What if he refused to help you? Where was Piper? All kinds of depressive thoughts began to sneak into your head when his silhouette finally appeared, his eyes falling on you as he was walking towards you.

Clark Kent pushed his glasses nervously over the bridge of his nose, his heart racing. He wasn't sure, why after all those years you were here to see him, and that too, this urgently. He hoped you were okay. When he stepped out of his office, his eyes fell on you. His heart broke, yet again, on the sight of you— you were dripping from head to toe, your body shivering due to the cold. His pace increased, until he was literally running towards you, his eyes fixed on yours.

"Clark." You began, only to find yourself give in, to nerve wracking sobs as he pulled you into his embrace, letting his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him, as he soothingly rubbed your back, thousands of memories flooding back into both your minds.

"Listen to me, there's something you should know," you hicupped, still crying hysterically. Clark slowly walked you away from the crowd that had now gathered around you and him until the two of you were in an empty cabin. He lowered you in a leather chair and pulled one in front of you, letting his palms rest on your knees, "Whats wrong?"

"I didn't know who else to go to, I -- Clark," you swallowed the lump forming in your throat, you didn't know how to begin. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, or tried to, but the heaviness of your chest couldn't let you breathe, "Someone took my daughter, right from in front of my eyes. Two men, dressed in black, they came and they took her, stuffed her into their car, Clark, I don't know where to find her, what to do."

Clark's face fell— it was as though someone had cut off his oxygen supply— what else was he expecting? That you would wait for him all your life? He looked at you in a strangled way, his eyes narrowed at you, but he wasn't angry. He just looked hurt. The hands that were resting on your knees slowly pulled away and you winced at the loss of the contact, looking up at him through your teary eyes. He pressed his lips together and parted his lips, "Do you have any idea who could have —"

"No, I— Who could mean harm to an innocent little five year old, Clark? She can't even hurt a fly." You cried.

"Five.. five year old?" Clark croak, as if something was lodged inside his throat.

"Five years, and a few months to be exact.." you whispered, as your fingers gently pulled out your wallet, and inside was a picture of your beautiful little girl, her long black hair, just like Clark's curled atop her matted head. She was a true replica of him, having his luscious curls, big blue eyes and the kindest of the smiles. You slowly extended the wallet towards him, your hand trembling as your heart beat like a supersonic train. "That's— that's her, Piper ..Kent?"

Clark stepped abruptly from the chair, his fingers clasping your wallet. Weakly, he looked down at the photo, the realization sinking into him. The eyes that looked back at him from the photo were the same eyes, he didn't need proof to believe that she was his.

"Clark, I know you have questions but this isn't the time, please help me, they took her! I — I need Superman.. she needs Superman.." You pleaded him, with your eyes, looking at him.

The next minute, Clark had his hand on your shoulder, as he was walking you out of the cabin, his eyes not meeting yours.

"Get back home, incase they call for ransom or something. I will get her back."

What you didn't see when you were on your way out, was the way Clark broke down after you left. He lowered himself to his knees, watching you walk off until he had both his hands pulling at his own hair, his eyes glowing with the heat vision, his body suddenly on fire.

Two days passed, and with these two days, whatever sanity that was left within you, drained out, anxiety taking over completely. You went to the Daily Planet, looking for Clark, but he wasn't there— of course he was out looking for her. But it still didn't let you rest any easier.

By the time it was nightfall, you were pacing around in your living room, your kitchen a mess, dirty utensils from two days back still soiling the sink. Your hair were a mess as you had not bothered even running a hand through them, for you were completely shaken and distraught.

Just when you thought that your mind will probably burst with the amount of worry that was eating at you, the doorbell rang. You ran— it was like running a life marathon— as you unlocked the door, finding Superman standing at your doorstep, holding Piper in his arms, the little girl having her arm locked around Superman's neck, her face glimmering with excitement.

"Oh my fucking—" you cursed under your breath, sniffling in retaliation to the sight and n front of you as you threw out your arms towards her, "Piper, baby! You're okay! Jesus, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I should have been careful— "

"Mommy, do you know that Superman saved me from the bad men?" You gasped, almost wide eyed as Piper leapt into your arms, and you buried your face into your daughter's hair, nuzzling your nose against her face, holding her tight, as though if you didn't, she would slip away. What suprised you, and sort of, made you smile was her innocence — she was kidnapped and probably locked up somewhere and yet all she could think of or talk about was how Superman had saved her life. Your eyes flew to his, meeting his halfway, you could see how exhausted he looked, and a look passed between the two of you— a look of love that had been buried years back— the two of you didn't need words, and the two of you could feel how the other one felt — probably a mix of relief, anger and a lot of questions.

"Yes, he did—" You smiled, "Are you okay, Piper? Love, are you hurt?"

"She's— " Superman began speaking, and you looked at him once again, "She's fine. She isn't hurt, I made sure."

You bit your lip, your fingers toying with your daughter's curls. Finally, you stepped inside, leaving the door wide open, glancing at Superman with the corner of your eyes, "I know you want to to talk. Please, come in."

"Mommy? Is Superman staying with us tonight?"

"Piper, darling, would you go and check on Berry? She's not feeling well ever since you left—" You placed her on the floor, carefully eyeing her for any injuries, but much to your relief, there were none.

"Alright, mommy."

"You should have told me, [Y/N]. She's mine too!"

You gasped, almost inaudible, trying to suck in a mouthful of air as you fixed yourself by the window, looking out, almost cautiously, your mind still in a state of alert. When Clark saw this, he walked up to where you were, staring out of the window, and you saw his reflection behind you, his hands on your shoulders as he turned you around, "they won't come back, [Y/N]. I made sure of it."

"Who were they? What did they want?" You frowned, his hands still on your shoulders but you didn't seem to mind.

"They weren't anyone of importance, they did it for ransom, having randomly decided to kidnap her and ask you for money. How were they supposed to know they kidnapped my daughter? Like hell, I didn't know I had a daughter," he almost froze, letting his hands drop, his eyes now looking at you for answers.

You took a deep breath, running your hands through your hair, almost pulling at them in an attempt to straighten them a little, but Clark grabbed your arm, his grip on your wrist as he lowered it, showing you how his patience was wearing thin.

"You left me, Clark. Just because I was pregnant, it didn't mean I was selfish to use her as a means to get you back, or to burden you with her responsibility." You hissed, trying to pull on your wrists, but of course, how were you to match the Kryptonian's strength?

"I would have never left if I knew—"

"And this, Clark, is exactly why I didn't want you to find out. I didn't want you to decide to stay with me because.. of a baby," you had begun pacing in the living room now and Clark just stood by the window, his arms crossed against his chest, "You would have hated me one day." Suddenly, you stopped speaking and your eyes widened, your head sharply turning towards him and a thin frown appearing on his sublime features. The next minute, you were glaring at him, poking him in the chest with your index finger, "Before accusing me of hiding this from you, how would you justify you leaving me without giving me the reason? You didn't care about me, you didn't care about the fact that I cried myself to sleep for weeks, inwardly tortured for months. How very hypocritical of you, Mr. Kent."

He grabbed your hand, however his hold remained gentle on you. Very slowly, he twisted your arm behind you, stepping closer, in a way pinning you to the wall behind, looking down at you. He then scoffed— a dry, sarcastic scoff.

"I left you because I had no choice. Luthor took Lois—"

"Oh, great, Lois, and that's why you left me—"

"He took Lois because he thought Lois is the woman I'm with. You realize what this means? If he knew or find out it was you, he would have thrown you off that building. I couldn't have lived with that. I did it for you!"

Tears streamed down your face, his words finally sinking in. You parted your lips and all that came out was a gush of air. Clark placed his hand on your cheek, reluctantly, half expecting for you to push it away, but you didn't. His fingers felt hot against your skin, like embers as he cupped your face, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek.

"I came..one month after you left me .. to your office ..when I found out.. wanted to tell you," He nodded, blinking as he waited for you to continue. "I saw you with Lois. You looked happy, the two of you."

"Lois is just a friend, I never—" he frowned, his hand dropping from your cheek as he ran his fingers through his own hair, his exasperation evident, "It was always you."

"I can't believe this, Clark. I fucking cried myself to sleep thinking you hated me," you sniffled, falling back against your couch like a lifeless corpse, bringing both your palms to your face as you buried yourself to those, hiding yourself from his intense eyes, "That girl—" You looked up, your cheeks now stained with your tears, "she is more you than she is me. In every single way. I needed you Clark Kent."

"I'm sorry, I should never have —"

"Six years, Clark. You missed her birth, you missed watching her grow up, she was without you, and we were okay, you know? And now this happens and my life is a mess once again—"

He looked at you, dejected, his glances mediating between the floor to you and then back down to his hands. Finally, he cleared his throat, and you looked up at him, looking at the beaten Superman in front of you. He was everything but the strong superhero you knew in that split second. He was a broken man— just a man— in a spandex costume.

"If I could go back and change what I did, I'd do it in a blink of my eye."

You smiled, and replied, "It's easy to say. It wasn't your fault, though. It was perhaps, we were never meant to be."

His face fell, and he didn't try to hide it from you. You bit your lip, tasting the metal on your tastebuds as he slowly took a step away, his eyes moving from you to the stairs, perhaps hoping that he could see Piper before he left.

"If something ever happens, if you need me, I'll be there, [Y/N]. I couldn't be there when you needed me, but I'll be there from now until you don't need me anymore."

Would it ever happen when you won't need him any more? You never truly moved on, no matter how hard you tried. The void remained, in your heart, in your life and in your cold bed. Six years , and you couldn't make yourself fall in love with anyone, because no one was Clark Kent, they could never be him.

"Leaving us again, are you?" You wiped your tears with the back of your palm, and he looked at you, suprised as though he had heard you wrong.

You smiled and you looked down at your hands, they were trembling as you rubbed them fervently against the fabric of your thigh, and stood up, hesitantly at first, before a little confidence built up inside you when you saw the softness in his eyes as you walked towards him. This time you pinned him to the wall, and the taller man let you, without even trying to attempt to escape or show you just strong he was. He let himself be entrapped as you grabbed his chin, rather unceremoniously, yanking his head so he was looking down.

"Don't you want me to—" he stopped talking, finally realizing what you were trying to say to him.

"Six years, I watched you on TV, and that's just it. That was the nearest I had to feeling anything. Is this what true love is? You know someone isn't coming back yet you can't stop loving em?"

He smiled, but didn't reply. He just kept gazing into your eyes.

"Go on, go. The world needs you, Superman."

You smacked him on his chest, watching his eyes to shift to confusion once again. Awkwardly, he tilted his head to his side and shook his head, only his chin moving.

"And you? You don't?" He asked.

"No." You smiled smugly, watching his face fall, so you hurriedly added, "I need Clark Kent, not Superman. He is very broody, and I am scared of him. I would rather have my Clark back."

He gave you a toothy smile, and in that minute, he wasn't Superman anymore. He was your Clark Kent, only in a spandex costume. He wrapped you in your arms , pulling you to him, bringing down his lips to the side of your jaw, as he kissed your chin at first, and then moved on to your lips. Your lips met his, after a long time, and your insides exploded, your hands flying to the back of his head.

"Mommy!"

Clark cleared his throat, and you immediately pulled away wiping your lips and the two of you looked at each other, both your cheeks a slight crimson. You two felt like a child again, having been caught stealing cookies and Clark smiled, sitting down until he was squatting on his heels. He threw out his hand towards Piper and she ran up to him, settling herself on his thigh.

Clark looked up at you, and so did she, and you couldn't help but give them a warm smile back, because the sight was melting your heart. It was like a mini me, Clark and his little female version, looking right at you with that big blue eyes.

"What?" You asked Clark.

"Shall we tell her? Shall I tell her?"

"No, Superman." You changed your voice, grabbing him by his Cape as you pulled him up, "I don't want targets on her back. Why don't you just go on out, change into some human clothes and then we can tell her who her father is."

"But sweetheart, it's a little too late for that don't you think?" He pointed towards Piper, and your head shot towards her, you jaw almost dropping when you saw her eyes turn orange due to the heat vision, just for a bit before they turned blue again, and Superman slid his arm through your waist.

"It's okay, let them find out, Superman has a family. They still can't touch a hair on your head, not until I'm around. And I'm not..going anywhere."

"No, sweety," you gave him an apologetic smile, "that's not what I'm worried about. I'm worried she's gonna go to school and boast around how her dad's Superman."

"Well, they are going to find out, one day or the other."

"You're right, Clark." You nodded, as the two of you watched her scamper off, chasing Berry, you leaning on to him.

A/N- Fuck, I realised I really got carried away with this one. I think this is the longest one shot I've ever written? I thought I'd break it into parts but oh well. I hope you guys liked it.

[mrpenguinpants]

Childe/Tartaglia: Fiancé HCs

Aww, I give major points to anyone that actually reads my tags because it’s a whole lot of word vomit and brainworms. THIS IS MY FINAL OFFERING TO CHILDE SO BUDDY  👏 COME 👏 HOME 👏 This will probably be my last fic this week since I’m going to be busy with term tests and 1.1. Can you tell how slow I am with these asks?

I need to stop tagging so much because tumblr keeps making me repost...

This isn’t necessarily a part 2 from my other Childe fic [ “Enemies” to “Lovers” ] but you can go ahead and read it that way. Not sure if this counts for tags but it doesn’t hurt. To be honest, I was planning for this to be the direct part 2 but then his character story dropped and I got slapped in the face with inspiration.

 [taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@youaskedfurret​ @diaxfeliz​ @wintergreen-aix​ @dandelily​ @thegayrubberducky​ @lovelykittycatmeow​ @yuunoagivesmelife​  @dokidokisama @hanniejji​  @mikeysbike​ @unionwitch​ @musekala​ @twistedsunnshiii​ @stanzastic​ @akaasea​

---

Childe/Tartaglia: Fiancé HCs

Your relationship with Tartaglia is unorthodox to say the least. Usually, the average length of an engagement is 13 to 18 months but you didn’t need a calendar to tell you it’s been far longer than that. You probably spent more time with your fiancé’s sister than with the man himself but that was okay with you. Tonia was a really sweet girl and you knew what you were getting into when you accepted and returned his feelings when you two first started going out.

Before he became a Harbinger you were friend’s with him and Tonia. Almost everyone in Snezhnaya was part of the Fatui, working in factories, or a devote follower of Tsaritsa. So it was a breath of fresh air to meet two people that didn’t align themselves to that mindset or become a slave to work. You slowly became closer to the two siblings until the day a stuttering and pink Tartaglia confessed his feelings to you. You think back on that moment fondly since that was probably the first and last time you’ve seen him act in such a shy manner.

The day he proposed to you was the night right before he became a Harbinger. It wasn’t anything grand and you were pretty sure he hadn’t even told Tonia he was planning on proposing that very night. He said that he was waiting for the right moment and somehow felt the right moment was when you were in-between consciousness. When you couldn’t even give him a proper answer since he popped the question right as you fell asleep, but for all intensive purposes, that was probably on purpose. You had to chase him down in freezing cold weather, coat not even properly tied, as you yelled he was a piece of shit and that if he never came back you would hunt him down and kill him yourself.

He just grinned innocently and waved back to you as the ship departed. When asked by a curious merchant who wasn’t native to Snezhnaya asked if he had some...family issues he simply waved it off and said you were his beloved fiancé. The merchant was left very confused on Snezhnaya’s customs and traditions on marriage.

You both made an agreement that only he would write to you. He said that it was because trying to get in contact with him would be impossible, considering how often he moves, plus the different names he goes under. But in actuality, it’s because he want’s to keep the people closest to him as private as possible. The Fatui know of his sister already and most likely know of your existence but as long as he remains a Harbinger they can’t do anything. He won’t let them. But the Fatui have many enemies and while he hates denying your existence, if it’s to make sure you live a peaceful life with his sister, he’ll continue to pretend he’s never heard of your name before.

While he writes to his sister that he’s taking care of trivial matters when he’s on his assignment, he writes a bit more honestly and detailed in his hidden letters to you. You make sure to keep them in a box hidden away from Tonia so she never discovers them but you have an inkling she knows what her brother is up to. She watches the way your face pinches, that your fingers clutch the paper a little tighter, and how you seem to tap the page two times in sequence.

Despite the raging winter storms that swirl around Snezhnaya, you are always warm. He thinks you’re secretly a pyro vision user waiting for the right moment to make good on your word and burn him alive. Whenever his travel’s run late into the night and he arrives home tired and cold, he seeks Tonia’s room to make sure she’s sleeping peacefully. Then to you to do the same. Sometimes when you’re lucky and you wake up early, you’re greeted to Tartaglia clinging onto you refusing to move because you’re warm. Even going through daily routine’s he always has an arm around you or some part of his body against yours. You feel that his habits is rubbing off on his sister because slow morning’s like these see’s you as the human heater. With Tonia hugging you from the front, arms wrapped around your waist, while Tartaglia support’s from behind, arms around the both of you. Your hands laced with his as you both act as a shield for little Tonia.  

Tartaglia’s hands are always numb. He could be in Natlan where it never snows or facing the harsh winters of Snezhnaya, they are always numb. As if the skin of his fingertips were scalded off. Touching anything gives him an uncomfortable sensation so he wears gloves all the time except for two occasions. When he need’s to replace his gloves with a new pair or to lace your hand into his. He can vaguely feel the heat from your hand, see that you don’t have the same callouses that he has from wielding weapons, and can feel the same tingling sensation that would usually have him wrenching his bare hand away if it had been anything or anyone else, besides his sister of course. Instead he holds on as if you’re his last lifeline in the middle of the ocean, commits to memory the feeling of your hand in his, and the pins and needles that prick his fingertips fade away.

He grows restless when life is ordinary and boring so he’s always off fighting or doing something completely dangerous. He was the same before he became a Harbinger which leads to some fights between the two of you. You both handle fight’s pretty badly due to the upbringing of Snezhnaya and it makes Tonia sad when she sees her family argue. So instead you convey your inner worries through taps. One is for annoyance. Two is for worry. Three is for anger.  Likewise, Tartaglia has his own system.

On one rare occasion, Zhongli managed to catch the sight of a flicker of light on Tartaglia’s clothing. It confuses him since aren’t ring’s meant to be worn on the hand? The only response he get’s from Childe when he asks why is a vague answer filled with mirth. He say’s that he’s holding onto it for someone. Zhongli doesn’t quite understand since wouldn’t it be better to keep the ring in a box if it were meant for someone else? Childe wears a ring on his pinky already but it might be a Snezhnaya tradition to wear one ring on the hand, while the other is close to the heart.

He keeps his cheerful attitude on even when it feels as if the world is crushing him. That might be why he names himself Childe. But when it’s just the two of you he takes the mask off, the armor slips off, and let’s himself relax. Time’s like this he just wants to hold you and as he puts it, recharge.

For all his confident nature in fighting he knows that a committed relationship with him is hard. That if you ever want to walk away and find someone new he won’t stop you, but that you never contact him or his family. He won’t open his heart for another person for a long while or ever. He would still give you your ring and whatever you choose to do with it is up to you.

Tartaglia’s goals won’t change. He still has his family to take care of and even if you decide to leave, that doesn’t change the fact he still sees you as apart of his family.

You don’t mind if his goal takes him away from Snezhnaya for years and years. Or if the letter’s he writes become fewer and fewer.  As long as he comes home you don’t mind waiting.

It’s the middle of the night and he’s still awake. He just returned from his last assignment and Tsaritsa is already sending him across Teyvat for “business” related reasons. He just finished checking up on Tonia to see her sleeping soundly. She’s growing up really fast, he smiles slightly at the thought. She can already sleep on her own. He gently opens the door to your room, well really it’s both of yours but he hasn’t been doing a lot of sleeping there, and cringes slightly at the creek the doors give.

He takes a small minute to lean on the doorway and relaxes. He won’t have enough time to bask in your presence if he’s too make it on time. The winter storm continues outside, as if Tsaritsa herself is yelling at him to start moving. He doesn’t think there’s ever been an instance when they’ve been silent.

“I care about three things in this world. My sister, you, and my home,” Tartalia says softly as he walks over and kneels down beside your laying form, resting his hand beside yours as he places a soft kiss on temple. “When those three things are safe I can rest.”

You tap him two times. Your hand has laced around his in a loose grip to which he tightens. You both sit in silence as he wait’s for the pins and needles to stop spreading across his arm before speaking again.

“I know I already proposed but let’s elope somewhere. My next assignment is taking me to Liyue. I heard it’s quite a beautiful place. I’m thinking a spring wedding perhaps?”

One more tap but he’s learned to take your annoyance as you jesting or being flustered.

“Promise me you’ll be safe,” you ask.

“I can try but I can’t guarantee everyone else will be,” he laughs.  

You tap him three times. If you weren’t half asleep you would have probably thrown your pillow at him. He gives one last chuckle as his finger’s rubs patterns into your hand.

“I promise,” he swears.

He hears you hum happily as you begin to relax back into slumber. Slowly letting the feeling of his heartbeat lull you to sleep until your grip loosens around his wrist. Even as the winter winds howl outside you can sleep so peacefully. Unlike him where in the back of his mind are restless thoughts. Tsaritsa is asking something huge of him, another test of his loyalty and strength. He silently stands up as to not wake you again, gives you one last squeeze of the hand, one last fond look, before he leaves. Closing the door as quietly as he can, he steels himself to go back out into the cold.

[xiaomoxu]

Lucien - Intimate Date

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

A date from CN server which hasn’t been released on EN server yet. Might contains some spoiler. Happy Qixi Festival~

Translations under the cut~

-

Whistle: Speaking of which, Mr. Lucien...

When the "whistle" spoke, I did not hear him clearly. He had to knock the steering wheel twice before I came back to my senses.

MC: Yes, what are you talking about?

Whistle: I said that this mission goal is rare to invite you to travel with. You must seize the opportunity and strive to completely gain his trust.

Whistle: You must record his destination, what he ordered on the train, and who he met.

MC: Yes, I remembered it.

My answer seemed to make him dissatisfied, and he looked at me warily through the rearview mirror.

Whistle: MC, It can't be... Are you tempted by that Mr. Lucien?

With a stern expression only face, I sat up straight up steeply.

MC: What are you kidding about, how can I be tempted by that kind of person?

Whistle: Hmm, you just have to know it.

There was no more words in the carriage, and the car continued to drive towards the train station. Looking at the bustling city outside the window, I tightened my lips.

How could I be tempted by Lucien?

If there is someone who fascinates me, it should...

I lowered my head and glanced at the book in my arms.

"Awakening" Snow fox.

ㅡThis "Snow Fox" who can guide me and give me strength first.

The first time I read Mr. Snow Fox's article, I seemed to be drunk, and all the confusion and perplexity I had been dispelled.

He used his pen as a knife to attack injustice and pave the way for peace.

He is a lonely walker with a torch in his hand, walking in the long dark night.

I am a small streamed firefly attracted by the hot flame, chasing this light silently.

Finally, with all efforts, I joined the organization of Mr. Snow Fox

Although I haven't seen his true face yet, but he once asked someone to forward me a book to encourage me.

MC: You are shimmer, you want to hide under the darkness.

I opened "The Awakening" and mumbled out a line of text on the title page—this was also a personal message from Mr. Snow Fox to me.

MC: I will never disappoint Mr. Snow Fox.

The car stopped by the train station, I put the book back in the secret compartment of the suitcase, and carefully sorted out my cheongsam.

The Whistle opened the door for me.

Whistle: For the last, check the mission target situation again.

MC: Okay.

Whistle: Who is your goal?

MC: Lucien.

Whistle: Who are you?

MC: Lucien’s blind date, which is a rich lady who has lived abroad since she was a child and returned to China for less than half a year.

Whistle: Your task.

MC: Monitor Lucien and find out his purpose of leaving Loveland City this time.

Whistle: Very good. One more thing, if there is a suitable opportunity in this trip...

Whistle: Kill him.

MC: Assassinate Lucien?!

This order was a little unexpected, and I couldn't help being taken aback.

Didn't the previous organization say that Lucien maintains the balance of the Loveland market and asks me to focus on surveillance and not to move?

MC: Why did you suddenly kill Lucien? Was it a temporary decision by the organization?

Whistle: What do you ask this for?

MC: Because this is contrary to my previous actions, so I want to confirm again...

Whistle: This is a private order from Mr. Snow Fox.

MC: Mr. Snow Fox...will give me a private order?!

My eyes widened in surprise, and when I wanted to ask a few more questions, a horn suddenly interrupted our conversation.

At the intersection not far away, three black cars approached us one after another.

The black goat logo on the front of the car was plated with a dazzling silver in the sun, like the cold light on the tip of a knife.

The original noisy street became extremely quiet, and only the tires made a slight rubbing sound on the ground.

The convoy drove slowly across the road, and after such a long distance, I still saw the clear profile face of the mission target in the car window at first glance.

It’s Lucien.

Whistle turned his face and saw Lucien's motorcade, and he frowned.

Whistle: You don't need to be too nervous, I will pretend to be an ordinary tourist at the next stop and sneak into the third-class carriage to meet you.

Whistle: Remember what I just said, once you find the opportunity to do it, use the transmitter in your suitcase to contact me.

Whistle: Okay, it's time to play, Miss MC.

MC: Mmhm.

I took a deep breath and got out of the car with a small suitcase.

The door of the middle car across the street also stopped at the same time. A group of black subordinates lined up, and one of them opened the door.

The first thing that catches my eye is a hand holding a cane. The fingers are white and slender, and the nails are neatly trimmed, like the hands of a literati.

Only the thin calluses at the knuckles indicate that this hand can hold a pen or a gun.

The owner of the hand, leaning on a jade cane, stepped out of his right leg first.

With his figure, it may be more suitable to wear a slim dress, but even if the gown is tightly wrapped, you can still see the straight and slender legs.

The silk gown bends like flowing wrinkles between his knees, and the dark lines on the satin surface reflect the shimmering light as he moves.

He raised his other hand again, took a trilby from the hand of his respectful subordinate and put it on his head.

In the silence, Lucien got out of the car slowly.

It was so quiet all around, it seemed that he was the only protagonist of this silent film.

And after Lucien's gaze slowly looked around, he finally stopped at my face across the street at this moment.

In an instant, his indifferent eyebrows were stained with the temperature of the early morning, and the lip line also bends in a pleasing arc.

Lucien: MC.

MC: Mr. Lucien

Obviously his appearance is so harmless, three points gentler than the teacher in the school.

But when I think of the rumors about this "Mr. Lucien" in the market, I still can't help but feel a palpitation.

He held back his subordinates and walked towards me with a smile.

Lucien: Sorry, did you wait for a long time?

MC: Fortunately, I also just arrived.

I took a step forward, trying to maintain my innocence and asked

MC: Mr. Lucien, where are we going this time, why would you think of inviting me with you?

Lucien: What we are going to is a very beautiful place. As for why I brought you...

Lucien: I think a smart girl like you shouldn't be surprised.

MC: You praise me like this, I'm so embarrassed.

MC: Now that Mr. Lucien decides to keep the sense of mystery, I will keep looking forward to it.

I reddened my cheeks pretending to be shy, but my heart was beating wildly because of the other party.

Whistle hurried to the trunk to help me take out the luggage, and Lucien also leaned down and naturally took the suitcase from me.

Then he straightened up, smiled and stretched out his other arm to me.

Lucien: Let's go.

MC: Okay.

I happily wrapped his arms, leaned my body against him-and walked towards the train station.

There is still a short distance from the start of the train. As VIPs, Lucien and I have already arrived in the luxury carriage in advance.

And after the whistle sent my luggage onto the train, he left immediately. Before leaving, he didn't forget to wink me a warning.

Lucien leaned on the sofa. He glanced at the back of the whistle through the window and whispered.

Lucien: Miss MC, your driver...

Subordinate: Mr. Lucien.

The subordinate's knock on the door interrupted Lucien's words, and he frowned slightly.

Lucien: Come in.

The subordinate walked in quickly and whispered something in Lucien's ear.

I tried to prick my ears, but I could only hear a few scattered words-"clue", "check", "eradication"....

While listening, I calmly poured myself a cup of scented tea.

As Lucien listened to the report of his subordinates, the corner of his mouth moved.

Lucien: Don't worry, continue to follow him.

Subordinate: Did you mean...

I don't know if it was my illusion, Lucien's eyes seemed to turn to me.

Lucien: If you want to do it, do it thoroughly.

Lucien: After all, an excellent hunter wants to lure the "Snow Fox" out of the hole, and it can't do without enough delicious bait.

Snow Fox!

Suddenly hearing these two words, my fingers trembled, and the scented tea almost spilled from the cup.

Lucien: Miss MC, what's wrong?

MC: No, nothing, my finger was accidentally scalded by the teacup for a moment.

Lucien: Let me see.

MC: It's okay, it's just hot.

But Lucien had already held my hand, his strength was very light but I couldn't refuse it.

The cool fingertips rubbed my red fingertips, bringing out an ambiguous itching.

He observed it carefully for a while and saw that there was nothing serious, so he pulled a white silk kerchief from his arms and wrapped it around my finger.

Lucien: The walls of this porcelain cup are relatively thin, so you will remember to put something on your hand next time you drink hot tea.

MC: Alright, I remembered it.

Lucien smiled at me, and lightly shook my fingers wrapped in the kerchief.

When he spoke again, his words were directed to his subordinates.

Lucien: Follow the previous plan. I hope to hear some good news when I get to the station.

Subordinate: Yes Sir.

At this time, the sharp siren finally sounded, steam gushing out, and the steel wheels began to move forward steadily.

The people on the platform waved their hands, saying their last blessings and goodbyes to their loved ones, lovers, and friends.

Amidst the hustle and bustle, there is also the persevering cries of newsboys, one after another, like cicadas in the late summer, so ear-piercing.

News Boy: Sell ​​newspapers! Take a look! Mr. Snow Fox's new work "Dark Night Flame" is on the market!

--

Before I knew it, I had been on this train for three days.

During these three days, I was not restrained and could walk around in the train at will. The scenery on both sides of the train was beautiful, and the companion accompanying me was considerate and gentle.

If it is said that the only flaw is that there is still no intelligence.

MC: Lucien...

This man is indeed too perfect and too tricky.

I sighed and looked at the figure on the platform unconsciously from the gap between the curtains.

The train will stop next to a small station, and Lucien is talking to the owner of the food stall, he looked gentle and humble.

He paid the money and was about to return to the car with the paper bag. Suddenly, a boy with a cart next to him slammed his feet and slammed forward, exclaiming.

Seeing that the cargo is about to collapseㅡ

Lucien's eyes were quick, and he held the cargo box with one hand and the boy with the other.

Lucien: You all right?

Boy: You are?! sorry! sorry!

When the boy saw that he almost hit a noble person, he trembled with fear and apologized again and again.

Lucien: Don't be so nervous, you didn't hit me either. Go ahead.

Boy: Thank you sir, thank you sir!

The cargo boy ran away without looking back, pushing the front of the car.

-It seemed like a small accident, but from my perspective, I clearly saw the cargo boy quickly stuffing a note into Lucien's hand when he left.

Why did Lucien use this method to deliver messages?

I watched Lucien's calm and composed face, and suspicions gathered in my heart. I raised my head  and met his gaze.

MC: ...!

I drew back abruptly, avoiding his sight.

Subordinate: Mr. Lucien?

Lucien: Nothing, go up, don't let the kids wait in a hurry.

After a while, Lucien appeared at the entrance of the carriage. He smiled and raised the paper bag to me as if nothing happened just now.

Lucien: Today is Chinese Valentine's Day, there happens to be a fruit seller in the station, wanna try it?

MC: Huh, today is Qixi Festival?

I couldn't help but froze. The spirit has been tense recently, but even the days have been somewhat forgotten.

Lucien: No wonder you forgot, it was my fault that kept you in the train for too long.

Lucien: But it doesn't matter if you forget these festivals, I will help you remember them.

When he made a promise, his brows were dazzling and his tone was solemn, as if he really was a caring beloved.

Lucien sat next to me and handed me the paper bag.

The small and lovely fruit inside exudes a fragrance, I picked up one and said with a smile to Lucien.

MC: "Begging every year is a coincidence in the world, and there are too many inhumanity in the world", my pleasure.

MC: Hmm... delicious!

MC: Mr. Lucien, do you want to taste it?

With a smile, I picked up another dessert and handed it to Lucien's mouth. He fixedly stared at me for a moment and bit it with a smile.

MC: How is it, isn't it delicious?

Lucien: Well, this is the first time I have eaten this kind of dessert. It is sweet and slightly salty, with a crunchy texture, and it tastes really good.

Lucien: What makes me even more happy is... You really like the taste of this hometown.

He just bit the word "hometown" a little bit harder, and it made my breath stagnate.

MC: I don't understand what Mr. Lucien's words mean.

Lucien: I remember that Miss MC who came back from studying abroad. Both your parents are abroad, right?

Lucien: It just so happened that my subordinates went to a country where Miss MC's parents, so I asked him to inquire a little bit.

Every time Lucien said a word, he leaned forward by a point, and the distance between us was closer.

His breath was burning, with the sweet fragrance of fruit, but it caused a chill in the back of my neck.

Lucien: In his reply to my telegram, he said...in the local area, there has never been such a family.

Lucien: So, Miss MC.

His hands are still cold, and when it touch me, it's like touching rare fragile objects.

His fingertips went from my brow bones, to eyelashes, to cheeks, and finally gently twisted away the fruit crumbs from the corners of my lips.

Lucien: Can you tell me who you are?

Silence flows between us. The train has not started yet. What can be heard is the shouting of the platform not far away, as well as the breathing and heartbeat close at hand.

As Lucien's breath enveloped me, there seemed to be a flame igniting in the place where he had just touched. I bit my lower lip and tried not to shift my sight.

MC: Is the answer to this question important to Mr. Lucien?

Lucien: Of course it is important.

MC: Why?

My question made Lucien raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Lucien: Haven't you noticed MC? You are a very important person to me.

MC: Haha, Mr. Lucien's words really flatter me.

tugged at the corners of my mouth stiffly, but my mind was spinning.

What does Lucien mean by "not found"? What does "very important" mean?

How much did he find out about my identity?

With Lucien's ability, as long as he catches any slight loophole in my words, it will be enough to destroy everything.

No, I can no longer answer any questions from Lucien.

It just so happened that the train whistle sounded again, and I put my hands behind me and pretended to pull the tablecloth inadvertently at the moment the train started.

The tea cup on the table swayed twice and poured in response. The remaining tea in the cup was spilled on me and Lucien.

I took the opportunity to sit up, lowered my head to help Lucien wipe his clothes, and apologized to him again and again.

MC: Oh, Mr. Lucien, I am sorry!

Lucien looked down at the tea stains on his silk shirt and smiled.

MC: I'm okay, but you have water stains on your body, so go back and clean it up.

As a pardon, I nodded and left immediately.

Lucien: By the way, I asked the train restaurant to prepare a candlelight dinner tonight, and I hope Miss MC will appreciate it.

MC: With Mr. Lucien's invitation, I will definitely be present in full dress.

Lucien: I believe MC, no matter how you dress it up, it will look good.

Lucien lifted the teacup on the table, seemingly inadvertently added another sentence.

Lucien: After all, such a good day as Qixi Festival cannot be easily let down.

I was sent back to my car by Lucien's subordinates. The moment I closed the door, I felt my strength slip away and plunged into the mattress.

MC: (sighed)

Being vigilant all the time makes me exhausted physically and mentally. Only when I’m in my car, I can breathe a sigh of relief.

My identity will be revealed sooner or later, and once exposed, would Lucien behave like a merchandiser who is pushing goods, showing me a touch of kindness?

Do I really have a fluke with Lucien like the whistle said?

I opened my eyes and slowly spread out my palms.

In the palm of my hand is the little note I just stole from Lucien.

There was a line written on it: Snow Fox is in the car, be careful.

At the moment when I saw these words, all kinds of scenes flashed past my eyes quickly.

Lucien: After all, an excellent hunter wants to lure the "snow fox" out of the hole, and it can't do without enough delicious bait.

Lucien: Haven't you noticed that you like ink? You are a very important person to me.

Could it be that... Lucien discovered that I was an organizer and wanted to use me as a bait to draw out the "Snow Fox"?!

Since this is the case, should I act first to be the best-obey Mr. Snow Fox's order and kill Lucien.

Snow Fox , Lucien...All the emotions in my heart are like a tangled mess. I can't help but reach out to the suitcase by the bed.

Across the wall of the box, the "Awakening" lay quietly there.

After a long time, I took a deep breath, sat up from the bed, and started preparing for the action tonight.

I first took out the wireless transmitter hidden in the suitcase and told the whistle that Lucien and I would have dinner in the dining car tonight.

Then quickly took off the pink dress and put on a purple cheongsam. Opened the secret compartment of the suitcase, took out a pistol from the inside and tied it to my thigh.

While putting on makeup, there was a knock from a subordinate outside the door.

Subordinate: Miss MC, Mr. Lucien is already waiting for you in the restaurant.

MC: Got it, tell Mr. Lucien that I will be there soon.

I put the lipstick back in the box and was about to get up when the light from the corner of my eye suddenly swept over something on the table.

It was the white handkerchief Lucien wrapped around my finger when I lied about being scalded.

When I returned to the car, I put it on the dressing table and didn't move it again.

Lucien's handkerchief is as simple as his clothes, and there is no other pattern except for the embroidered mark of his name on the corner of the handkerchief.

The moment I saw the handkerchief, Lucien's abrupt eyes suddenly appeared in my mind.

Why does a rumored "Mr. Lucien" who is obsessed with power and cruel, has such a pair of calm and sober eyes?

Obviously in my imagination countless times, only the "Mr. Snow Fox" in my mind would have such eyes.

MC: Mr. Lucien... is it really just Mr. Lucien?

I was shocked by the nonsense that I blurted out, and I took a step back abruptly.

I was a little flustered inexplicably. Just about to put away the handkerchief, my fingers suddenly felt strange bumps on the silk surface.

MC: Hmm??

I looked down and found that beside Lucien's name, there was a Morse code embroidered with silk threads of the same color.

I held my breath and fumbled for the code with my fingers, and finally found that they formed a words.

MC: My shimmer?

The setting sun outside the window was sinking, and the fluent sunset glow was gradually replaced by the night.

The lights are lit on each train, and the train shuttles through the mountains and forests like a golden dragon.

When I arrived in the restaurant, Lucien was still writing a letter at the table by the window.

When he saw me, he put away the half-written letter and smiled at me.

Tonight, instead of wearing the daytime gown, he changed into a slim-fitting suit, and his temperament became more capable and chic.

MC: Sorry to let Mr. Lucien wait for a long time.

Lucien: Compared to Cowherd who can solve the pain of lovesickness only once a year, I only waited a while for "Little Weaver Girl", considered to be very lucky.

Lucien: Have a seat

He opened the table seat for me, and I took a seat happily.

Lucien: How have you been on the train these days?

MC: Mr. Lucien seems to ask me this every day.

Lucien: Do you think I'm long-winded?

MC: No, this is your thoughtfulness, I like it very much, and I have had a good time these days.

MC: Even too comfortable, I don't want to get out of the train

Lucien: This is bad.

MC: What's wrong?

Lucien: After eating this dinner, we are almost arrived at the station. If MC don't want to get off the train, I can only use other methods to get you off.

I quickly glanced at the closed door of the dining car, settled, poured a glass of wine, and continued to laugh with Lucien

MC: What other method does Mr. Lucien want to use?

Lucien: It depends on what approach Miss MC likes.

MC: Me, of course I want more....

Before I finished speaking, the ground suddenly shook! A hot air wave overturned the railroad tracks and hit the carriage!

Before I had time to react, I felt like the sky was spinning.

The next second, I fell into a warm embrace.

Lucien: Ugh...!

Lucien held me firmly in his arms, but his whole body was knocked to the ground by the air wave.

The world in the carriage was upside down, and Lucien's letters and official documents on the table were scattered all over the

The ornate decorations turned into fragments, and the wine in the glass was spilled on the brocade like drips of red blood.

The disaster came without warning, and the steel giant leaned on the rails, uttering a heavy mournful cry.

I turned my face to look at the mess on the ground. The crying and screams from the front and rear carriages made my brain go blank.

MC: What exactly is going on...

Lucien: The train was blown up. It should be coming for me.

Lucien took me up with one hand, and with the other hand drew the pistol from his back.

The explosion plunged the train into chaos, and Lucien's subordinates was at the other carriages and it was too late to arrive.

He turned around and looked at the exit of the carriage warily, while admonishing me.

Lucien: MC, If the other party wants to cut the grass and roots, it is estimated that they will take the opportunity to return to the restaurant to confirm my life and death, you have to be careful....

The words after were swallowed back, because a gun was hitting his abdomen at the moment.

MC: Don't move.

Lucien's gaze moved up from the muzzle a little bit, fell to the hand of my gun, and finally stopped on my face.

For the first time, his eternally calm eyes rippled, and his lips opened slightly, and then he pressed tightly again.

In the next second, a smile suddenly appeared at the corner of his mouth.

Lucien: Miss MC wants to kill me.

Lucien's somewhat helpless expression made me feel embarrassed, as if I was just a little girl making trouble with her lover unreasonably.

MC: Why are you laughing?

Lucien: Nothing, the other side of MC really surprised me and couldn't help but laugh.

I glanced at him and opened his tie with the muzzle of my gun.

Then freed his other hand and groped his waist and chest roughly to make sure that there were no other weapons or wiretapping on him.

And Lucien opened his hands very cooperatively, as if he was at my disposal.

After searching, I glanced at the door again before turning my gaze back to Lucien.

MC: Mr. Lucien, before killing you, I want to ask you a question.

My fingers slowly touched his heart, and said word by word with an voice that only the two of us could hear.

MC: (Do you believe I will be shimmer?)

Lucien's eyes were suddenly bright, and he also answered me with his mouth.

Lucien: (From beginning to end.)

Bang!!

The moment his voice fell to the ground, I shot.

Lucien also slowly fell to the ground under the gunshot.

MC: ....

Holding the gun tightly, I kept my eyes locked on the doorway of the squeezed carriage.

Finally, after a while, a figure appeared at the door.

MC: Whistle..

Whistle: MC? You didn't...

MC: I was lucky, and it happened to be blocked by the sofa when it exploded.

Whistle: Y-Yes...what about Lucien?

MC: Didn't you hear the gunshot just now, I've finished him.

MC: Whistle, You seem to have expected this explosion?

The whistle glanced at Lucien, who was motionless, then glanced at me, his mouth suddenly grinned from an arrogant angle.

Whistle: Of course, this is my plan.

As he said, the hand of the whistle rose sharply, and the black hole pointed straight at me.

Whistle: Because you and "Snow Fox" both have to die.

However, before he had time to pull the triggerㅡ bang! A gunshot sounded faster!

Lucien: Finally bit the bait.

Lucien, who was lying on the ground, opened his eyes. He slowly sat up with a gun in one hand, looking at the whistle for an instant.

Whistle: You..

The man's eyes were full of things, his shrunken pupils were printed with the figure of me and Lucien standing side by side.

When he was about to attack again, the sound of footsteps came from both ends of the dining car. Lucien's subordinates who had survived the explosion finally rushed over and subdued him to the ground.

Subordinate: Mr. Lucien, are you okay!

Lucien: I'm fine.

Lucien: Apart from this person, there must be other pests in this train. Clean it up immediately.

Lucien: Also, immediately contact the headquarters and the nearest hospital, check the conditions of the front and rear carriages, and take all passengers out of here.

Subordinate: But you...

Lucien: Hurry up.

The subordinates' throats stagnated, and they didn't dare to defy him, dragging the seriously injured whistles towards the two carriages.

There were only two of us in the carriage at this moment, and Lucien turned his eyes back to me after watching the last subordinate leave.

Lucien: I just saw, Miss MC's acting is a little bit flamboyant, and she still needs a lot of polishing.

I didn't reply immediately, just stared at Lucien firmly.

At this moment, Lucien's face was strangely clear in the twilight, eyebrows, lips, cheeks... finally merged with "Snow Fox".

MC: ...Mr. Snow Fox's acting skills are outstanding, and the little girl is deeply impressed.

Lucien smiled deeper, and he carefully helped me straighten my temples.

Lucien: When did you discover that the whistle had a problem?

MC: From the beginning. When he faked "Snow Fox" orders and asked me to assassinate you, I began to doubt him.

MC: But at that time I was still not sure about his motives, then...

I took out the handkerchief, and picked up the letters scattered on the ground—the writing on it was exactly the same as the writing in "The Awakening" message.

MC: Did you also find out that there is a problem with the whistle from the beginning?

Lucien shook his head.

Lucien: No. I only found out that he had betrayed the organization and he also found out that I was Snow Fox.

MC: Then when you first got in the car, you said you wanted to get rid of "Snow Fox"....

Lucien: In addition to the whistle, there are other inner ghosts.

Lucien: I arranged this train and wanted to use this excuse to catch them all.

Lucien: But I didn't expect these people to blow up the train in order to get rid of me.

This is a journey of life and death. In the confrontation between righteousness and evil, everyone's identities are constantly changing.

Everyone feels that he is a hunter and the other is a prey. Lucien the Snow Fox. Whistle the traitor.

ㅡOnce Lucien dies on the train, the entire Loveland City may face a bloody storm.

When Lucien said this, his voice became more and more apologetic.

Lucien: I insisted on taking you in the train, because I was afraid that you would be silenced by the whistle while I was away. As a result, I almost made you fall into danger with me. Sorry.

MC: I am not afraid of danger, darkness must accompany danger, I just... a little angry.

Lucien: Why are you angry?

I blushed, and finally threw the gun to him, hold my breath to say the words.

MC: You... the big liar who always talks around the bush!

Lucien laughed loudly. The first time I heard him smile so clear, it was like the early morning when the clouds saw the sun.

He took me to the side of the carriage, supported the window with one hand, and dexterously take off from the carriage.

MC: What are we going to do?

Lucien: There is much more to be done.

Lucien: "Snow Fox" can disappear, but Lucien still has to exist.

Lucien: We have to continue this scene until the darkness fades.

He stretched out his hand to me outside the train. I held his hand and felt the solid strength of his arm.

MC: You are talking around the bush again.

Lucien: Hmm... Would you like to hear me say something less convoluted?

MC: Of course I do.

The glow in the distant mountains has long since faded, and the long night is approaching, and the wilderness will rise from the starting point of the firefly.

Lucien's eyes are brighter than stars and fluorescent lights.

He smiled and took me out of the trainㅡ

Lucien: It happens MC for me, it is indeed a very important person

Lucien: I am very satisfied with the result of this blind date, how about you?

--

Notes from me: You’ve done reading~ thank you for always read Lucien’s date~ I really love the interaction between MC and Lucien in this date, the way Lucien always want to protect MC and MC who wants Lucien’s kindness, is really make my heart fluttered. Again, thanks a bunch for everyone, HAPPY QIXI FESTIVAL!  (*≧ω≦*)

[missjaystone]

Inescapable

Summary: Even in the middle of the ocean, your alpha manages to find you, even if it was an accident. Pairing(s): Alpha!Helmut Zemo x Reader Word Count: 3,640 Warning(s): NONCON! DUBCON! A/B/O Dynamics! Forced Claiming! Manipulation! Implied Stalking! Miscarriage mentioned! Death mentioned!

Everything around you froze when you looked up and met a certain pair of brown eyes, a certain sparkle when they looked into yours. The contact was brief before he was led around the corner by the Dora Milaje but it felt like it would never end. You worked on the Raft as a therapist to put as much distance between the two of you as possible but now that he was here, where could you go? The way he smiled at you as he walked by, it wasn't comforting like the first time you'd seen it, it made your heart stop in fear. It made his claiming mark on your neck throb in pain, a reminder of how much power he'd had over you before and how much he'd always have. It reminded you that he was your alpha, whether you wanted him to be or not. The man that passed by you wasn't the man you'd met, he was much worse.

The battle was over, your husband was dead, the child you were growing followed suit not long after you got the news, like he couldn't bear to even be born in a world without his father; you couldn't even blame him, you'd contemplated ending your own life to join your husband in whatever afterlife awaited. You'd just gone back to work after your allotted week of bereavement leave and another week of personal time. You weren't sure if you were ready to go back to work or not, but at the very least it would distract you. The first thing you noticed when stepping into your office were the pictures of you, your husband, and his family. You turned the picture frames face down before you could stare for too long, everyone in the pictures was dead; your husband, your mother and father in law, your two brothers-in-law, everyone.

Your first patient came exactly at 9:30 for their appointment. He was a brown-eyed brunette man of average height, dressed surprisingly nice for a therapy appointment. You greeted him with a soft smile and a handshake. "Welcome, Mr..." you trailed off so he could introduce himself. "Zemo," he answered, his thumb running over your knuckles gently before he let go of your hand and took a seat "Baron Helmut Zemo." "Would you like me to address you as Baron Zemo or Mr. Zemo? Or just simply Helmut if that would make you comfortable?" You asked him. "You can just call me Helmut, Doctor, but thank you for asking," he returned the same sad smile you'd given him when he came in. "Well, Helmut, I'm glad you came in. It's never easy dealing with loss and having someone to talk to is far better than bottling it up. I'm proud of you." He gave a single nod after looking around the office, motioning to the overturned picture on your desk "I thought my friend might be nuts to have referred me here but maybe you understand my pain better than anyone can." You smiled sadly at him "you'd be surprised at how many people understand." You saw his attention drift towards the sweets jar on your desk, holding it out to him "Turkish delight?" He smiled a bit more, this time a little more genuine as he took a piece out "don't mind if I do, Doctor."

After your first appointment, he came back twice a week. He told you about his wife and son, how much it hurt when he finally found their bodies amidst all the rubble. You asked him about his favorite memories with them, trying to make him remember the good times. You asked him about them; his wife's favorite flower or his son's favorite toy, encouraged him to open up about them. Soon he had you talking about your husband and the people you lost. It was amazing how effortlessly he tore down both your professional and emotional walls. He had you falling for him before you even knew you were.

For two months you tried every which way to talk him down off of his growing rage and hatred for the Avengers. You used everything you'd learned in school to make him understand breaking them apart wouldn't bring back his family or make anything better. At the beginning of the third month, he seemed to drop it, and you foolishly thought that was the end of it, that he'd seen reason. He'd slowly been getting bolder during your appointments, asking questions, each more personal than the last but only by a little. One evening, after seeing him for almost four months, he showed up about half an hour after your last appointment of the day, it was about a quarter of six. He was dressed just as nice as he always was, maybe even nicer "I hate to disturb you so late, doctor but may I take you out to dinner this evening? I'd very much like to thank you for these past months; I knew it's your job but I can't imagine what kind of troubled headspace I'd be in if I didn't have you to talk to." He'd asked so politely, how could you refuse? While you gathered your things, you missed the hungry look in his eyes. You missed the way they dragged over your body, the same way a lion looks at his prey. You'd be his omega soon. Whether you wanted it or not. You were his innocent, gentle little lamb and you needed to be protected from other wolves.

Thirty minutes later, the two of you were at his favorite fine dining restaurant in all of Novi Grad. It was fun, the most fun you'd had in months since the battle of Sokovia and the heartbreak that followed. After that first dinner together, it became a more frequent occurrence, usually once a week after his appointment. You were smart, you knew how stupid it was to be dining with the patient so frequently. This professional relationship was becoming close and intimate. He had you on the hook before you could even realize it and pull away. As you began dining with him more, your guard fell. Helmut was no longer your patient, he was your friend, he understood your pains. You began dining together more frequently and then he introduced alcohol into the equation.

When you looked back at everything, you cursed yourself for being so stupid. How could you not see his plan? He was making you comfortable so it'd be easier for him to go in for the kill. Everything you shared with him would get used against you later. Helmut could play your mind like a flute and you let him, you gave him the tools he needed to find your weak spots and exploit them for his own benefit. If he'd crashed into your life and caused as much trouble as he had, you could hate him, but you let him in, welcomed him even and he made himself as comfortable as possible before finally taking what he came for.

Your first night together was gentle and slow, getting to know each other's bodies on such an intimate level. You turned your back to him afterward, eyes watering as the feeling of betrayal settled in the pit of your stomach like a stone. "What's the matter, malo jagnje? Did I hurt you?" He'd asked softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder as he looked you over worriedly. You shook your head, quickly wiping your tears before they hit the satin pillow sheets beneath you. "No, it's not you, Helmut," you whispered. "Then what?"  He asked, a worried frown on his face. "I just worry, it feels too soon, like I've already started moving on," you answered with a sniffle. "Nobody mourns the same, jagnje, it's different for everyone. You told me that," he assured you, wrapping you in his arms and pulling your back to his chest.

He repeated everything you'd told him whenever you got emotional. 'Sometimes the best way to honor someone's memory is to find new ways to be happy' 'you can't beat yourself up for being happy without them, this is what they would have wanted' 'nobody can ever replace them but you can't wallow in self-pity forever'. Every piece of advice you gave him was used back against you. The two of you had been seeing each other for two months before you stopped answering his calls and messages. He'd shown up at your apartment when you hadn't returned his messages, worried something had happened to you, that his little side activities trying to destroy the Avengers might have led to you being hurt or captured or worse.

He was relieved to find you alive and well. "You haven't been speaking to me, are you unwell?" He asked after you hesitantly let him inside. "I don't think I can keep doing this, Helmut, I'm sorry," you said in a shaky, quiet voice. His face fell in disappointment "what's the matter? Have I done something? Malo jagnje, please, you can tell me anything you know that," he pleaded, taking your hand only to have it slowly pulled from his grasp.

"It's not you, Helmut," you said as clearly as you could muster, wiping the tears that were already beginning to roll down your cheeks. "Then what is it, moj voljeni? What's happened?" He pleaded for an answer. "It was too soon, I can feel myself forgetting him and I don't want to. I don't want to forget all the time me and Christoph spent imagining and building our future together. I don't want to forget about the baby we almost had, that died inside of me almost as soon as he heard the news of his father's death. I don't want to forget everything he and I had but when I'm with you, I feel the memories slipping away and I'm not ready and I'm so sorry for that Helmut," you told him, sniffling throughout. He stared at you for a long moment after you finished speaking, not saying anything. When he finally did react, he approached you and pressed a kiss to your forehead "I understand, little lamb, and I'll wait for you." With that, he gave you a tight hug, rubbing your back comfortingly as you sobbed into his chest for a bit before he left. You went to sleep that night thinking about how lucky you were to have a confidant like Helmut in your life.

You remembered thinking that was the end of things. He took it well and things would continue as they were before you became sexually involved. No wonder he called you his little lamb, you were too innocent and naive to see the anger in his eyes when you told him you'd stop sleeping together. If you knew then what you knew now, you would have run from the hills, hidden at the north pole. You would have gone to the police and gotten a restraining order or hired a security detail. But you didn't do any of that. You were a lamb being led to the slaughter by no one other than yourself.

Helmut stormed into your office on a night he knew you stayed late to put the week's worth of notes away in their correct files. As fast as he'd appeared, he'd closed and locked the door behind him, watching your stunned form for a reaction. "Helmut?" You barely managed to get his name out before he'd crossed the room, pulling you to him and into a rough kiss. No matter how much you shoved his chest, he only pulled away when he was ready to. He effortlessly picked you up and set you on your desk, already positioning himself between your legs "I've waited for you to realize your mistake, jagnje, but I'll wait no more. I know you love me, омега, you're troubled mind is still reeling from the loss too much to accept it." "Helmut, I don't want this anymore, stop it," you shoved him away but it did little to dissuade him. It only angered him.

He grabbed your jaw tightly and made you look into his eyes; the pools of brown swirls had been replaced by black, lust-blown pupils of a... an alpha going through his rut. It sent waves of panic through your mind but waves of something else to your core. You whimpered when you felt your heartbeat speed up, reacting to the alpha's close, intimidating presence. "Helmut this isn't what you want, this isn't you," you tried to reason despite the rising panic telling you to run. He chuckled darkly "oh, little lamb, this is what I've longed for since before I stepped foot in your office. I caught a whiff of your sweet, scent when you visited the memorial all those months ago and I knew you'd be mine. You might not want to admit it, but your body knows you need an alpha like me to treat you right, keep you safe," he hummed as he ground the growing bulge in his pants against your clothed core. "Helmut-" you started, but his squeezing your jaw harder made you stop immediately. "You'll address me as alpha from now on, little lamb. I'd rather not hurt you but tonight I will make you mine by any means necessary, understood?" He asked, loosening his hold so you could nod, which you did hesitantly.

Pleased, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your pants and pulled them and your underwear down, a smirk appearing on his features. He pulled your pants completely off and discarded them carelessly, holding your underwear up so you could see just how much you didn't want this; the flimsy black fabric already had a small amount of slick arousal on it. You watched in embarrassed shock and he brought the fabric close and sniffed it, a pleased hum leaving his lips as he tucked them into the pocket of his pants. "I think you do want this little omega, you want to please your alpha don't you?" He asked softly as his hand slowly drifted higher up on your thigh. "You aren't my alpha, Helmut," you said bitterly, ignoring the tears that stung your eyes as you glared daggers at the man you'd considered your friend and confidant. He snarled and dropped his hand to your neck, squeezing until the air barely flowed "but I will me, little lamb. And you'll be my perfect little omega, my perfect girl who'll give me the family we both crave and deserve."

His hand on your thigh finally came in contact with your core which was already soaked and ready for him. He hastily pushed in two of his fingers, curling them as he pulled you into a dominating kiss, nipping your bottom lip enough to bruise. Your denials were muffled by his lips and soon faded into pitiful, needy whines from his unwanted touches. He smiled darkly against your lips when he felt your body arch into him "see, омега? Your body knows what it wants, it's that big beautiful brain of yours that's keeping you down." You shook your head, trying to save any dignity you had left, which was none "I don't want this, Helmut, and I don't want you!" The words felt like acid coming up but his chuckle hurt worse. He was three fingers deep in your cunt, pulling whines and quiet, muffled moans from your lips, he knew you didn't mean that.

When he abruptly pulled his fingers out, you regrettably let out a disappointed whine, another, needier whine following as you watched him suck his fingers clean without break eye contact. It took .2 seconds for him to undo his belt and push his pants and briefs down, stroking his throbbing cock while he looked into your eyes. His hand still holding your wrist remaining just as tight. "I'll always take good care of you, my needy little lamb, you'll never want for anything ever," he promised, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead that didn't match the roughness he used to immediately bury himself to the hilt. He started off with a brutal pace, not giving you any time at all to adjust as he had before. His thrusts were purely animalistic, he was just an alpha trying to knot the omega in front of him amid his own release. He let you bury your face in his chest as an escape for now, whispering the filthiest things you'd ever heard in your life.

"See, little lamb? See how much you need your alpha to make you feel good, make you feel better than good?" He asked when you finally gave up on trying to mentally escape the moment. "N-not my alpha," you stuttered out in between the rough hammering of his hips. He snarled and bared his teeth, eyes darkening even more than you thought possible. "We'll see," he mumbled angrily. He tilted your head and moved your hair out of the way quickly, leaving no time for you to react before he sunk his teeth into your mating gland, his hips faltering a few times before his movements went from thrusts to more a series of rapid ruts as his knot began to inflate. Your pained scream was music to his ears, it was the sound of you becoming his omega, making it so no other alpha alive would dare to so much as breath on you.

When he detached from your shoulder, he again pulled you into a kiss, making sure you could taste the metallic taste of your blood on his lips while the feeling of euphoria from the bite coursed through your veins, reaching every last nerve ending. He let out a pleased groan when he felt your cunt strain around his knot as you came, sending him headfirst into his own climax almost immediately. His face happily buried in your chest as he rode out his orgasm, ropes of his cum painting your walls, reaching your innermost areas while you held onto him for dear life.

Your stifled sobs made him look up, a small frown on his face. "Oh, little lamb, don't cry," he said softly as he wiped your cheeks "I just want to keep you safe from all the wolves in the world, it won't always be this way." He ignored how hard your palm connected to his cheek "you bastard!" He gently picked you up and sat down in your chair, letting you curl up in his lap without dislodging his knot, smirking slightly when he heard your whimper at the shift in position. He soothingly rubbed your back as he held you close, comforting you "it's okay, омега, I'd hoped you'd accept us on your own terms but my rut came early and nobody else will do." You hated this; being reduced to your dynamic, to some cock sleeve for him to use as he saw fit. He'd bound you to him for the rest of your lives and there was nothing you could do about it now, so you curled into his chest and sobbed until you had no more tears.

You recalled the way he stayed with you for the rest of the night, comforting and tending to you. He'd return often, usually every other day to take you out somewhere for a date or just show up at your apartment to do it all over again. You couldn't put up much of a fight, once he was close enough, your omega side came out and you were putty in his hands. And he knew that, and he treasured it. He showered you in gifts; clothes, jewelry, wines, books, everything he could think of. When his visits became few and further in between, you hated the nerves you felt. You hated the way you wondered when he'd come back home to you. You were messed up, and it felt like it was all your doing. You broke your professional rules. You let him into your life. You told him everything he needed to know to get to you. You let him claim you. You were Baron Helmut Zemo's little lamb, and he'd never let you forget it, leaving bruises on your thighs and hickeys on your neck to show any and everyone you were a protected little omega, and woe to anyone who caught your alpha's wrath.

You then had to watch in horror as his actions became known on the news; he'd never given up his plot to destroy the Avengers. He'd succeeded more than he could have ever dreamed of and now, he was in jail. He'd be in jail for the rest of his life. It felt like losing your husband all over again, the pain deep in your heart hurt twice as much now. You practically had to go through detox to get used to life without your Helmut around you. You were still protected by his mark but you'd never get to listen to him shower you with praises while he cleaned you up after sex. You had to get used to a life without being on his arm and you hated yourself for craving his attention and companionship that you'd still claim to hate.

He smiled so happy when they stopped while waiting for the door to open. He spoke in Sokovian so nobody around understood him "izgledaš prelepo kao onog dana kad sam te pogledao, jagnje malo." "What'd he just say?" Your superior asked, looking between the two of you. You felt that familiar stone in the pit of your stomach, he'd have you doing his bidding in no time. You were already wrapped around his finger. You shook your head and looked at your boss "he's mistaken me for someone else." "Jedva čekam da stignem, jagnje," Helmut said with a smirk before he was pulled away by a member of the Dora Milaje, leaving you with a wink.

-malo jagnje - мало јагње - little lamb -jagnje - јагње - lamb -moj voljeni? - мој вољени - my beloved -омега - omega -izgledaš prelepo kao onog dana kad sam te pogledao, jagnje malo - изгледаш прелепо као оног дана кад сам те погледао, јагње мало - you look as beautiful as the day I laid eyes on you, little lamb -Jedva čekam da stignem, jagnje - Једва чекам да стигнем, јагње - I can't wait to catch up, lamb

[darthkruge]

Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader ~ It’s Alright, My Love

Summary: Anakin comforts the Reader as she struggles with feelings of abandonment and loss surrounding her parents’ divorce. 

Warnings: Divorce (Reader’s parents), Reader’s really sad, talk of sadness and abandonment, comfort angst, soft!Anakin, I wanted to put in like emotions (angst) but also lots of comfort and fluff for you <3

Words: 2.1k

A/N: I went with an Anakin x Fem!Reader, I hope that’s okay. I love you so fucking much @starwars-whore. I wrote this quickly because I wanted to get it out for you tonight, I hope there aren’t any like egregious typos but if there are I apologize in advance! And I hope I captured a piece of what you are feeling and that this brings you some comfort :)

gif credit

You curled deeper into your bed, a pillow clutched to your chest as tears soaked into the fabric. You weren’t even sure how long you’d been crying. So much shit had been piling up in the recent months and you pushed it down, trying to move forward and just… survive. Even so, the pressure of your suffering, of your anguish, it couldn’t stay buried forever. 

You’d been thinking about it today, allowing your thoughts and emotions to roam. It was never a good idea, going that far in your own head, but some days you were unable to stop it. The onslaught of emotions, of doubt, of grief, of anger, of pain, it was equally unbearable and imminent. Somewhere among the swirling of your thoughts, the tears began. They haven’t stopped since.

You almost blamed yourself- why couldn’t you just talk to someone, voice your emotions, something. You hated the situation you were put in, your parents' breakup affecting you to your core. You doubted constantly, people, relationships, love. How were you supposed to trust in it? You buried your nose deeper into your pillow, fingertips clutching it tighter as you thought about the wonderful man you had in your life. You wished you could tell him. A broken sob left you as you thought about all the times you wished you’d told him everything going on in your brain. But despite the wishes, you never could. Something told you that today, that just might change. 

Further, how were you supposed to trust yourself? Why weren’t you good enough for your own father? Why, why, why? The questions are what hurt you the most; you constantly searched for answers and yet you knew you’d never get them. There was no reason a father should make his daughter feel disposable. You thought back to before, to when you were young and innocent. To when all this shit didn’t fucking matter. 

You sometimes doubted you’d ever get that back. It all felt too overwhelming, too impossible to overcome. You sighed, remembering your tendency to push away those closest to you. It took everything in your soul to not do that to Anakin. You loved him and he loved you, it was clear. But that voice in your head that told you to run, it never fully left. 

You barely heard the door opening, too caught up in your current plight. It wasn’t until a soft pair of eyes came into your field of vision that you registered much of anything at all. 

“Love…” Anakin said softly, his flesh hand coming up to caress your cheek, “What happened?”

His voice gave you all the strength you needed to try and talk to him. “He’s gone and I- I keep pushing him away and I know I’m losing him but he…” You trailed off, not knowing how to even put this into words. 

Anakin encouraged you, his gaze kind and understanding. You reminded yourself of his love, his devotion. He wouldn’t judge you, nor would he ever leave you. 

You took a deep breath before continuing, trying to steady your shaking voice. 

“My father,” You clarified, “I feel like I’m losing him. He’s always with her and I don’t know when I stopped being enough for him. I don’t understand, how could he have just found someone new?! Anakin, I’m his daughter.” Your voice caught, the word choked in your throat. 

Tears continued to run down your cheeks as you spoke and Anakin wiped away each and every one. You could tell his heart was shattering at your words. 

“I, uh, I feel like it’s kinda my fault, too, I guess. I’ve had to let him go. I just… I love him, a part of me always will, I think. But I have to distance myself from him, you know? Because being around him, every single time it tears right through my chest. And that pain, somewhere along the line he stopped being worth holding onto because, Ani, it was killing me.” 

Anakin nodded, giving you a moment to collect yourself. He ushered you forward and pressed his lips to your forehead. The sensation caused your eyes to close, more tears staining your cheeks. 

“But I guess that doesn’t make it any easier, does it?” You let out a humourless chuckle, the sadness in your voice making it sound painfully like a sob. 

“You know you have to let him go, and although you wish it were different, you know it isn’t. And it hurts.” Anakin finished for you, looking at you quizzically to see if he accurately picked up on your emotions. 

You nodded and allowed your head to drop into your hands as sobs tore through you. 

“Shh, come here my sweet girl,” Anakin said, sitting himself against the headboard of your bed and pulling you into his lap. He tucked you into his chest, arms wrapped protectively around you. 

You tried to say his name, tried to usher a “thank you” but your hiccups and sobs broke your speech too heavily, it was nearly unintelligible.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You don’t need to speak, I know,” Anakin reassured you. You nodded into his chest, hands coming up to grasp the fabric of his tunic. 

Softly, you asked, “Why? Why me? Why do I need to feel so much? Why can’t it all go away?!”

Anakin rocked you back and forth in his arms, pulling you closer as his own tears dripped down his cheeks. He hated that you were in this much pain. As powerful a Jedi he was, he couldn’t stop your suffering and he hated himself for it. 

“Anakin, why do they leave? Why do I push them away? Why, fuck, why am I always left behind, trying to pick up the pieces of things everyone else broke?” You felt like a child, uttering these words to your strong boyfriend. Even so, they were the questions that plagued your mind and haunted your dreams. And here you were, in Anakin’s arms, just feeling so understood and safe, it was all coming out. 

“I don’t know,” Anakin said, softly pressing a kiss to your hair. “I don’t know why they leave. But I do know that you don’t deserve it. You’ve been so strong, dealing with this, something no one should ever have to go through. And you’ve remained so kind, so loving. I don’t know how you do it, angel. And please, please believe me when I say it isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.”

His words seeped into you and somehow chased a bit of the darkness away. It was hardly anything compared to the storm you faced internally, but it was a start. You clung to him as if he was your only hope, the only thing keeping you afloat. 

As you exhausted yourself of your tears, he continued to hold you. As he wrapped you closer, he constantly whispered how much he loved, how you were everything to him and how, even though it felt horrible now, you’d get through this. You’d eventually shifted so that you were hugging him, your legs straddling his as you sat on his lap, your face tucked into his neck. His flesh hand held you close, smooshing you into him as his metal one worked through your hair and gently came up to massage your scalp. 

Slowly, the tears began to quell. After a while, Anakin was sure you’d fallen asleep. Then, you softly shifted and looked up at him. Even with your eyes rimmed red from the crying, your hair a frazzled mess, and your skin blotchy, he thought you looked beautiful. 

“Can I carry you somewhere?”

You looked at him, confused, but nodded. You were too exhausted to even argue. He picked you up, allowing you to continue to hold onto him as he walked you into the bathroom. 

You blinked up at him in question and he smiled, placing a kiss on your cheek. 

“How does a bath sound, my love?” His voice was sweet and gentle and his words moved you. It was a simple question, after all, but it spoke to your deeper intimacy. He would always take care of you, he would always comfort you. It meant the world. It was in this that you reminded yourself why you refused to let yourself push him away. You loved him too damn much. 

For the first time in hours, your lips slightly curled into a hint of a smile. “Yeah, that sounds nice.” You winced at your words and at the way they sounded; broken and sore from all the crying. 

“It’s alright,” Anakin said. Of course he noticed.

He filled the tub with the Force and helped you out of your clothes before peeling his own off. He looked at you and insecurities started to pop into your head but he cut you off with one word: “gorgeous.”

Anakin picked you up and settled you between his legs in the warm water, your back to his chest. You went to pick up your favorite soap but his hand grabbed yours, gently stopping its movements. He took the soap from you and lovingly worked it into your body. He urged you to relax into him, to finally allow your mind to rest. 

He was so soft with you. He treated you the way you thought girls were only treated in dreams and childhood stories. He massaged shampoo into your hair, following the process with conditioner, the one you loved and that made him want to bury his nose in the strands atop your head, its scent so associated with you that he couldn’t help but love it.

When he finished, he once again gathered you into his arms. He called a towel to him and wrapped you up in the warm, fluffy fabric before doing the same for himself. You whined as he stopped holding you to do so and Anakin chuckled but worked a little faster, immediately picking you up and walking you back to your bed. 

He settled you onto the mattress. Your eyes shot open, suddenly panicked as you felt him get up. 

“Shh, it’s alright, my love. I’m just going to go put on some clothes, okay?”

You nodded, feeling stupid for wanting his comfort so bad.

As if sensing your internal conflict, Anakin came back and looked you deep in the eyes. “Hey, hey, none of that. I’ll be right back and I won’t get up again, I promise.” 

You nodded once again, eyes remaining on him as he stood up and put some underwear and sweatpants on. He turned back toward you and held up a shirt and some of your undergarments, looking at you in question. You smiled, already knowing what he was planning. He came back to bed and slipped the clothes onto you, touch feather-light as he metal and flesh fingers danced across your skin. 

Once you were both settled, he pulled you into his chest, allowing you to deeply inhale his clean scent on his bare chest. His metal fingers were playing with the ends of your hair while his flesh one worked up and down your back and arms. 

“How are you feeling, my love?” Anakin asked, breaking the silence.

“I’m not sure,” You thought for a moment. “Better.” 

“I know it won’t all go away, I know I can’t do that for you. But I hope that you know that I’ll always be here when you feel like this and when you don’t. I know you feel abandoned, upset, angry, scared, and a million other things right now. Please, also feel my love for you, sweetheart. Because it’s so, so strong.” 

“I do,” You whispered. “Thank you. For allowing me to talk to you, for taking care of me, for being the one I can turn to, for loving me, for your patience and your kindness, for everything. You don’t know how important you are to me, Anakin.” 

He looked at your sweetly before pressing a kiss to your lips. “If it’s just a mere fraction of how important you are to me, I know.”

You leaned in, kissing him again. It was as though when you kissed him, you somehow felt like you’d be okay. You weren’t sure how and you sure as hell didn’t know when, but if he could love you this much, you had to be okay, someday. 

You broke apart and rested your head on his shoulder. Anakin craned his neck to plant a few more kisses on your head. You closed your eyes, allowing everything else, all the thoughts, all the worries, all the people, to fade. You were left with him and you. You and him. You smiled; once again, your love remained. 

As you drifted off, you heard the words that finally allowed you to rest. “I’m sorry life’s been so unkind to you. I wish I could fix it and give you the family you deserve. I promise, my love, I won’t ever leave you. You can always come on me.”

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[linkspooky]

Shigaraki’s Family

Shigaraki has to date fought against villains, won, and then taken something from them in his victory. This time however he’s not up against a villain but a bad hero. The lesson Shigaraki is going to learn from Endeavor is exactly as he says: you heroes hurt your own families just to help complete strangers. Family is more important. It’s also what makes him the opposite of Endeavor, Shigaraki always chooses his found family over his own ambitions, whereas Endeavor puts his ambitions to be a hero over his family. MORE UNDER THE CUT.

1. Shigaraki and Endeavor

There is actually a lot of connecting threads between Shigaraki and Endeavor’s characters. They are both characters who are considered inferior replacements to the previous king of both the hero and villain worlds, Shigaraki is called a worthless successor again and everybody prefers All Might to Endeavor. 

They are also characters who both believe they need to become stronger than anyone. Their quirks are partially incompatible with their bodies and they often hurt themselves going overboard using them and because of that they feel weak even when they are strong. Shigaraki in part - chooses to have Ujiko experiment on his body, even if it is an influenced choice. They both try to settle things with power first. 

However even in that they are different: Shigaraki was raised to believe by AFO that he owed AFO, continually made to feel unworthy for everything AFO had given him and had his ambition to be king of villains thrown on his shoulders. Endeavor decided to do those things all on his own from a position of relative financial security and safety within hero society. 

However, the way they treat the people closest to them is completely opposite. The League of VIllains that Shigaraki creates is again and again remarked upon as a place where people are allowed to be themselves. The league is a place of trust and acceptance. It’s remarked several times that the league genuinely trusts one another. 

Consider Shigaraki’s main personality traits, anti-social, awkward, immature. He’s modeled to act like a NEET and an overgrown manchild. He easily could have made no connection at all to the League of Villains. He could have stayed the person he was at the start of the story, someone willing to kill new recruits five minutes after meeting them. He could have even run things like AFO, choosing to either turn his followers into worshippers, or act entirely from the shadows controlling them like a puppeteer. 

My point being - Shigaraki is not the easiest person to get along with, or even understand, and yet he made a deliberate choice to get closer to the league. The league is this way because Shigaraki is this way. The league values people first, because Shigaraki puts people first. It’s who he is at the core of his being. Tenko played with the kids nobody else would play with, stood up to bullies, and wanted to be a hero even when his father told him no. That part of Shigaraki hasn’t changed. 

It’s Shigaraki himself who creates the healthy environment of the league. Somewhere along the way, Shigaraki began to consider them a family. Even if he’s not direct in stating it, or even as outwardly friendly as Twice about it. 

Shigaraki’s definition of family is made clear in his dreams and flashback. Family doesn’t reject you. Shigaraki in making the league his family sets out to do the opposite of what his father did, create a place where the people close to him are accepted for who they are and valued as individuals. They aren’t judged by their quirk, or even their contribution to the team. Giran is saved even after he stops being useful, Spinner’s quirk is so weak he can only cling to walls and yet he’s trusted as one of the top members. 

The way Shigaraki treats his own family - his allies is the exact opposite of Endeavor. He doesn’t try to control who they are, he doesn’t force them, but he does lead and they choose to follow. Even members who insist again and again that they don’t care about the other members of the league, and they’re not in it to help Shigaraki like Dabi are trusted. 

Compare this to Endeavor’s interactions with Hawks, someone who has been in Endeavor’s corner from the beginning and yet someone Endeavor absolutely refuses to trust or even understand a little bit. Shigaraki always gives Dabi free reign, Endeavor snaps at and threatens Hawks several times, getting angry in all of their interactions. 

If the League is somewhere where you are free to choose who you are, Endeavor creates an oppressive environment. Even if he is repentant about his past actions with Shoto, he still takes every oppurtunity he possibly can to mould Shoto into who he wants him to be. 

Even post redemption - Shouto has to be his heir, Shouto has to master his technique. Not only that but if Endeavor suddenly decides he wants to act more like father and son Shouto has to go along with that too. Endeavor’s view of the world is still self-centered. He’s the patriarch,he’s in a position of power, and he uses that to revolve everything around his own desires for other people. 

In Shigaraki’s words, Endeavor rejects who Shoto is.

Endeavor has status, prestige, and connections in the hero world and he uses that to get what he wants: Shoto working alongside him, Shoto learning from him, Shoto allowing him to pass on his technique flash fire. When Shoto is reluctant, Endeavor will put pressure on him, send him multiple messages, contact him when he’s not wanted. When Shoto doesn’t want to play father son with Endeavor, and only wants to apprentice to him in an official capacity Endeavor acts disappointed. 

Endeavor still views Shoto as the one he pours the most attention into because Shoto has the strongest quirk. Endeavor creates an oppressive environment, Shoto is not free, Shoto is not valued as an individual. 

The one good thing Endeavor does is back off with Natsuo and Fuyumi, and allow them to live in a house separate from him even though he personally wants to be with the rest of his family. However, his behavior towards Shoto for the most part hasn’t changed (which is you know the foiling, Endeavor did to Shoto what AFO did to Shigaraki). 

2. Family First

Endeavor’s ambitions will always be more important than his family. We see this in the choices he makes so far his arc. Let’s look at the last thing Endeavor remarked upon before the battle started. 

He regrets that Toya, a child he was responsible for died under his watch. We still don’t know the exact circumstances but considering the parallel with Shigaraki it’s very possible, Endeavor’s ambitions to be a hero were what directly hurt his own son. 

If Endeavor is repetant then family should come first before his ambitions correct: but here are the choices Endeavor makes this arc. 

Remember Endeavor is someone who literally tried to raise a child soldier, by forcing five year old Shoto into aggressive quirk training. He of all people should be sensitive to what exactly is wrong with the Hero Commission’s plans to use children and students as a backup against villains who will be using lethal force in a war zone to try to kill them. 

Not only that but he chooses this action without permission and without consent of the families of the children. Natsuo and Fuyumi have no idea what is happening to Shoto right now. 

In general, the heros choose actions again and again to put the people they should be responsible for into danger. When Midnight is being overwhelmed by villains rather than telling the children she’s supposed to be protecting to retreat from the monster capable of destroying cities she asks them to do something illegal.

Whereas, the league always makes the opposite choice this arc. They choose to protect one another in the tight knit family group. 

The league watches out for each other’s well being. 

Shigaraki’s first order was to bring his family to him. Gigantomachia would have made it to Shigaraki’s side already, if Shigaraki didn’t value the league so much that he protected them first over himself and instructed Gigantomachia to do so as well. 

The heroes right now are choosing again and again to sacrifice not only the individual, but the individuals they are personally responsible and let them go into danger for the sake of a victory. 

The villains are making the opposite choice. Shigaraki is personally responsible for the found family of the league as the leader, and the league’s every choice has always been to protect each other and put the safety of their allies first rather than sacrificing them for a cause. It’s even reflected in Twice’s final choice that leds to his death. He cares more about the league  to the point where he acknowledges he might be thrown out after all of this is over and still chooses to use his last act protecting them anyway. 

While yes, the heroes do make these sacrifices to protect innocent people. Innocent people also get hurt from these same heroes. Hawks was innocent, a disadvantaged child that the hero commission took advantage of. Shoto was innocent, but raising him up as a hero was more important than Shoto’s health and well being as a child. Heroes are supposedly making these sacrifices to protect innocents, and yet innocents still get hurt underneath the hero system that they’re giving everything to protect. 

That’s why the themes of friendship and even family resonate so well with the league of villains because we’ve seen them consistently choose each other over and over again. That is likely what Shigaraki is going to awaken to at the end of his fight with Endeavor, that he’s not doing this for ambition like Endeavor, or AFO, that he really is fighting against the whole world to protect his small family. 

[thisisgonnafuxkinkillme]

Undertale with Toshinori

Warnings:

Established relationship, Toshinori x gn! reader

A little fluff

MAJOR spoilers for Undertale. Please just don’t read this if you haven’t experienced this masterpiece already. I promise it’s worth it.

Also cringe warning uwu

Toshi isn’t a huge fan of video games. He never played them when he was younger, so he doesn’t really *get* it, plus they often don’t interest him. He’s tired of seeing violence, fighting, drama, and anything like it. Now, he just wants to relax.

You know this, so you made sure not to pressure him too much to play with you. (He did quite like Animal Crossing and Stardew Valley though)

However, one lazy Sunday afternoon, Toshinori surprised you.

“Hey, um, do you wanna play something?” He asked, still in his pajamas, which consist of an entirely too large to shirt with some flannel pants. You nodded, queuing up the island you both shared.

“No, I mean, do you have any good story games?” He inquired. He sat next to you on the couch as he took a sip out of his coffee mug. You immediately had an idea of one but you weren’t sure if he’d actually like it.

“Well, I have one game, but if you don’t like it you don’t have to finish it,” you reply, clicking through your library.

The 8 bit theme rang out through the living room, filling you with nostalgia and him with a little wonder. His eyes scanned the opening scene, taking it all in.

UNDERTALE.

You taught him the basic controls, but made sure to keep your mouth shut to avoid spoiling or tainting his first experience through the game. He typed in the character name simply as Toshi. You almost thought about telling him to use the name Chara, the most canonical one, but thought better of it. Your eyes followed his movements across the screen as he inspected items, followed Toriel, and clicked through dialogue.

Soon, the first fight happened.

“What do I do?” He asked innocently. The froggit bounced around the screen, waiting for your action.

“Well, you can kill it, run from it, or you can try getting it to calm down and not want to fight you,” you explained. It was so hard not to spoil anything, and your heart was basically bursting as you waited to see what he’d do.

He ran away, and you let out a small breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

Toriel praised him, walking him along the rest of the map and into her home. He looked in the mirror, the text announcing, ‘It’s you!” 

A few minutes later, Toriel was on the fight screen.

Toshi had taken quite the liking to the goat lady already. He ran from her fight, too, going back upstairs and into the character’s room.

He looked at you, silently, for guidance.

You said nothing.

Of course, he knew he couldn’t stay in his room forever, and eventually made his way back downstairs. Toriel was still waiting.

He sighed deeply.

“Do I have to leave? I really don’t think she seems all that bad...” he muttered, partly to himself, but also to you.

“Well, you have to fight her, sunshine,” you placed a hand on his thigh. You made sure not to say ‘you have to kill her’.

He started the fight again, not hitting her. You didn’t guide him, not sure if he was missing on purpose or just didn’t know how to play the game.

Then, he began choosing the action button, trying to bargain with his goat mom.

Soon enough, she broke down, letting us go.

“Don’t let him... ASGORE... kill you...” she warned before Frisk, (who Yagi named Toshi) was on his own.

You watched as he refused to kill anything, not even one character. You said nothing, but were admittedly surprised. The first time you played Undertale, you accidentally played the Neutral route via killing some NPCs. You didn’t really know any better. You didn’t realize what kind of game Undertale ended up being, and how much it’d mean to you.

He returned playing, and you watched intently. He’d ask for help every once in awhile, still not totally being used to video game mechanics as a whole. You didn’t mind showing him what to do, as long as he was having fun, and he was. He made sure to read and inspect every single little detail to make sure he knew the story in and out. This ended up making the gameplay last quite a bit longer than it would have otherwise, but you were grateful that he was so interested in something you also enjoy.

The fight with Undyne and Mettaton went by, Toshi sparing both of them while he cursed under his breath. The fights were getting harder and harder. At one point, he handed you the controller so you could ‘fight’ Mettaton for him.

Finally, Frisk walked into Asgore’s castle. As you walked, the story of the kingdom, the conflict between humans and monsters, and most importantly, the story of Asriel, was told. You watched your boyfriend more intently than you did the screen at this point. He had his jaw clenched, obviously moved by the tragic story.

Now, it was time to finally fight Asgore. The evil monster that slaughtered children, stealing their souls. The strongest monster of the Underground. The enemy. Toshi was hunched forward, ready to fight, and even more prepared to win. He had a concentrated expression, his large hands enveloping the controller.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” The horrific monster asked. Toshinori was almost taken aback by this one little line of dialogue, but was still ready to go.

The fight began and ended, much like the others, but this time, Toriel was back. But so was someone else.

Before Toshi could celebrate, Flowey took over the game, trapping all the beloved characters and newly found virtual friends. Toshi threw his hands up in the air.

“That’s not it!?” He exasperatedly yelled.

You shook your head, your hand gently resting on his arm.

You knew what was coming soon.

A good while later, Toshi was walking along the map of the game one last time, to say goodbye to everyone he met along this journey.

Finally, he was back where he started. The yellow flower patch was no longer a lonely one, a small goat child tending to them.

You watched the text roll across the screen.

“Well, that’s all. See you later, Toshi,” the goat boy said.

You sighed, long and heavy. That was more intense than you remembered. You looked over at Toshinori, who was sitting there, tears silently streaming down his face.

“Oh, Toshi, are you okay?” You asked softly, putting your arms around him gently. He broke at your question, letting his sobs flow through his frail body. You felt for him, hard. His head was buried in your shoulder, salty tears wetting your shirt.

You didn’t say anything, letting him process everything he just played through. He calmed down, sitting himself up.

“Well, what did you think?” You asked, a playful tone in your voice.

“It was great!” He chuckled.

“Who was your favorite? I personally love Toriel and Alphys,” you smile, trying to start a little conversation.

He looked back at the screen, a little smile pulling at his lips. “Asgore. He... reminds me of myself in some ways,” he whispered, his eyes filling back up with tears.

Your heart dropped. You definitely could see it. You rubbed his back, the opening screen replaying as it did just a few short hours before. 

You turned off the TV, the blank screen reflecting you and Toshi’s reflection back.

Despite everything, it was still you. 

[halyasgirl]

Hero.

Rayla saves people.

She's brave.

She does what’s right,

even if it puts her own life in danger,

and even when the odds seem impossible.

Rayla is selfless, strong, and caring.

That's what makes her a hero.

Hero / Villain

Runaan, a hero and villain I very much hope to see this season.

[yandere-daydreams]

A spicier Yandere!Villain!Izuku/Reader for an absolutely lovely anonymous commissioner, featuring just a little Katsuki /Reader on the side. It’s always nice to get to experiment with a scenario I don’t get to use very often, but honestly, making Katsuki absolutely miserable might just a hobby, at this point.

Title: Lasting Rivalries.

Word Count: 2.0k

TW: Noncon, AFAB!Reader, Kidnapping, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, and Slight Exhibitionism.

The air tasted like mold.  

You could’ve sworn you’d fallen asleep in the cold, brisk atmosphere of Katsuki’s apartment, where every draft carried the vaguest traces of bleach and even the dust was neatly polished. Wherever you were now couldn’t be the same place, hell, you doubted it was the same building. The mattress underneath you was warm, uncomfortably so, the kind of damp, sticky heat that only radiated off of objects with a decade’s worth of grime. It was dark, the walls a bare, desolate grey and the few functioning lights only seeming to highlight how obscured everything felt, out in the open yet hidden by some thick curtain hanging just in front of your eyes. Your head felt… bad. You weren’t in pain, and you didn’t have a headache, but you almost wished you did. It would’ve been real, and that must’ve been better than whatever cotton had been stuffed where your skull was supposed to be.

You tried to roll over, intent on coughing away the blockage, but to your dulled shock, you weren’t able to do anything more than shift before falling back into place. Your wrists had been tied to something cold and metallic - part of the bed frame, you guessed, a post - but the rope was soft, seamless and smooth. A harsh distinction from the scratchy, cheap sheet that’d been spread out under your exposed back.

Oh, wait. Where were your clothes?

It was a startling realization, but you didn’t have much time to linger on it. As soon as you had time to properly feel the chill running over your skin, something replaced it. Two palms pressed into your sides, just above your hips, gloved but undeniably there, squeezing as they went, exploring. You kicked, reflexively, relieved to find your legs free enough to do so, but the mass was unmovable, catching your knee and pushing it flat against the bed with a light chuckle. You manage to focus, although your gaze was still blurry and your head still clogged, a shape forming in front of you. A silhouette, at first, then a form. A man. By the time you put a name to those hints of a face, you might as well not’ve bothered.

You would’ve recognized the voice of that monster anywhere. Even with the added smugness.

“When did they get so soft, Kacchan?” Izuku asked, a self-righteous smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. His tone was mocking, too patronizing to be genuine, but that didn’t stop his hands from falling to your waist, rubbing slow, measured circles into your midriff before moving towards your thighs and groping curiously. He continued, unprompted, not seeming to care that he’d never gotten a response. “You did that on purpose, yeah? I know you like your targets too weak to fight back.”

“Fuck off.” You didn’t have to think, your attention locking onto the interruption’s source, onto your boyfriend. Your restraints were child’s play compared to Katsuki’s, his hands encased in metal cylinders and leather belts laid across every extremity that could’ve possibly broken free. He was pinned against a cement column, immobilized, a loose muzzle strapped over the lower half of his face for Izuku’s personal enjoyment. He hadn’t been taken peacefully, either, a splatter of dried blood matting blonde hair to his scalp and his Hero get-up ripped to tatters, stripped of anything that could’ve been made into a weapon. You might’ve been jealous of how much effort had gone into capturing him, if concern hadn’t been shoved to the forefront of your mind, refusing to budge once it took its place. “Touch (Y/n) one more time and I swear I’ll--”

“Maybe we should gag him,” Izuku mused, cutting Katsuki off gracelessly. It took you longer than you’d like to admit to realize he was talking to you, but you didn’t dare indulge him with an answer, averting your eyes to the wall with a pointed glare. Izuku just pouted, crouching and nuzzling affectionately into the crook of your knee. You shuddered at the contact, but he didn’t seem to share your aversion, something lovesick weighing down his tone. “I don’t know how you put up with him for so long, angel. All those dirty words, and that rotten attitude…” He let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “It had to be terrible. You need someone to love you, really love you, right?”

“I… I don’t need anything from you,” You spat, attempting to clench your thighs together. Izuku pushed them back open with a strength you couldn’t hope to counter. “Get off of me!”

“You don’t think you need me,” He corrected, prompting a groan and a series of volatile insults from Katsuki. If Izuku heard him, he didn’t feel the need to give a response, kissing the inside of your thigh, instead, his lips lingering a second too long. “You’ve been...  influenced by Kacchan. He didn’t love you like I would’ve, he didn’t take care of you. I wouldn’t have made you go out into the big, bad world every single day. I wouldn’t have been so ungrateful.” Another kiss, this one higher up. “You deserve better. I’ll give you better.”  

You opened your mouth, but anything you could’ve said was caught in your throat and choked on as Izuku took hold of your hips, pinning you down despite his attempts to buck him off. You weren’t sure what you’d expected, but when a hot, eager tongue dragged along the length of your slit, the severity of your situation finally dawned on you, sparks of something callous and distant accompanying overwhelming, overpowering terror. Your mind went blank, but you flailed, attempting to kick and writhe and struggle until he let go, but your resistance only seemed to make Izuku more determined, pulling away to suck at your sensitive clit, flicking at it almost playfully with his tongue.

The pleasure was invasive, aggressive. Izuku was relentless, drinking you down like a man starved, his inexperience covered by his will to find whatever spot made your body contort and abuse it, whether that meant fucking your entrance with his tongue or drawing baseless, abstract patterns in your cunt or lapping at forcibly provoked wetness and daring you not to make a sound. You bit your bottom lip in an effort not to give him what he wanted, but his pursuit was a brutal one, the whimpers that found their way through your defenses meek and pitiful. Katsuki had been stunned into silence, but your involuntary submission seemed to snap him out of his stupor, an assumption only further backed-up by the garbled mix of ‘get away from them’s and ‘I’ll fucking kill you’s that soon filled the cramped space. Izuku delighted in that, nearly moaning against you, the reverberation sending an unpleasant tremor up your spine. You couldn’t tell what was getting him off more - your suffering or Katsuki’s.

Regardless of his intentions, your body was reacting to his ministrations, something in your core pooling and spiraling, delving into a dark, aching fire you wish had stayed untouched. Your hips nearly followed Izuku when he pulled away, straightening his back and making a half-hearted attempt to wipe away the spit and slick staining his chin with his sleeve before his shoulders slumped, a wide, malicious grin forming across his features as he looked over you. Wordlessly, he pulled off a glove with his teeth, swiping his newly freed fingers over your cunt, letting translucent fluids gather on fingertips. He held them to your lips, only hesitating for a moment before giving a command. “Lick it off,” He demanded, his smile never faltering. “Or I’ll have someone come in and slit his fucking throat.”

You weren’t proud to taste yourself on his skin, gagging when he shoved his digits down your throat and spitting when he refused to dislodge them, coughing until something in your throat tore and fell away. He only kissed your cheek, something you hoped was meant to be a reward.

You were still recovering when he started to undress, lazily unbuttoning his white dress-shirt and pulling it off, only bothering to shrug his pants down enough to free his cock. Of all things, that was what got you, how casual he acted, as if he was only admiring something he already owned. Tears sprung up in the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision despite your attempts to blink them away. Izuku took care of that, though, cooing as he dragged his thumb over your cheek. It could’ve made you sick. It did make you sick. But, the sudden wave nausea did little to stop something painfully hard from rutting against your thigh as Izuku leaned down, the sensation a constant, perverted reminder of your growing misery.

“Please…” You mumbled, the words falling from your tongue reluctantly. You tugged at your restraints, trying to pull yourself into a more dignified position, but all you accomplished was irritating your already-sore wrists. “Please don’t, Midoriya, please. I’m… I haven’t done this before.”

His eyes widened, the hint of a scowl shadowing over his expression. “Poor thing, poor baby,” He crooned, the words dripping with manufactured sympathy. With one hand, he steadied himself, positioning his length at your entrance with the other, making it clear that no amount of sobbing or innocence would get you out of being defiled. “No wonder you’re scared, he must’ve neglected you for so long. But, you don’t have to worry, love. Your Izuku’s gonna take care of you, from now on.”

That was all the warning you got before he pushed into you, snapping his hips against yours and only stopping when he bottomed out inside of you. Something between a moan and a croak found its way from your throat, but you were quickly distracted from the discomfort as Izuku took up your thighs, digging his nails into your flesh and forcing your knees against your chest, something between confusion and distress flooding into your system. By the time he began thrusting in earnest, finding a steady rhythm to match the tempo of his fleeting, breathy panting, you were sobbing, trying fruitlessly to keep your breakdown at bay as a terrible, unknown pressure built inside of you, a knot forming somewhere in the bottom of your gut. You were snug around him, hot and tight and drooling, making each movement all the more tortuous, toe-curling, world-shattering. It felt like there was never a moment he wasn’t hitting something new, something foreign, something you couldn’t quite make up your mind about. Unwillingly, you clenched around him, and Izuku faltered, groaning shamelessly. You were almost glad you’d fallen so far, when you felt him twitch.

Anything that managed to numb the filth slowly spreading through your body was a mercy.

“You feel so good,” He drawled, hunching forward, pressing his forehead into your shoulder. His breath was warm on your skin, damp, your disgust unaided by the teeth soon embedded in your neck, biting into anything they could reach. He acted without care, without discretion, his only goal being to make his mark and ensure that it lasted, regardless of how much blood he had to draw to do so. “Gonna make you mine, he won’t be able to touch you when I’m done. No one’ll be able to look at you without thinking of me.” He paused, letting out the fractured bastardization of a laugh, relief heavy in the cracked sound. “I’ll knock you up. Kacchan could never give you that.”

Oh, god, Katsuki. Your head fell to the side, in search of something stable to latch onto, but he was far from a source of comfort. He was despondent, limp and motionless, his bindings slack, unneeded. Still, every muscle in his body was tense, on edge, but if he could do anything but sit and stare, you couldn’t tell. His eyes were peeled open, lips parted but no noise coming out, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t bring himself to make the words. He was as much of a prisoner as you were, now. As helpless as you were, now.

Weakly, he opened his mouth, what was left of his will escaping in a miserable, wounded whisper. “I’ll fucking kill you, Deku.”

That was all it took for Izuku to finish, staining you so thoroughly, you doubted you would ever feel clean again.

[ahgaseda]

pray | two

you are more than my existence, please listen to my prayer, hold me, tell me about myself, call my name so I can know who I am...

summary : everyone knows of the unspeakable evil that lives on the mountain, but you willingly sacrifice yourself to the demon named Jaebeom, as long as he takes you far away from the monster waiting for you at home.

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, instances of blood and violence, graphic sexual content, black magic themes, potentially triggering elements that involve mentions of past child abuse, mental health, etc.

miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

For the first few days, you returned to the border without fail. Waiting, but mostly hoping and praying that an entrance was made for you. It went without saying you navigated the edge of the forest, searching for the slightest break in the trees and thorns for you to slip inside. You were ready to endure any injury to be back where you belonged.

Of one thing you were certain - you hated Jaebeom. How he had taken everything from you. It was selfish and cruel, and you would never forgive him for it as long as you lived.

After weeks passed and the woods remained silent as the grave, wholly impenetrable, you finally surrendered. The last time you stood before the forest, you bid her a tender farewell.

You would give anything to know Jaebeom felt your pain, that he longed for you in his heart as much as you did for him. The woods must have been lonely.

Did you cross his mind at all? Even for just a moment?

A voice came from behind you, jeering, “And here she is again, staring at a wall of trees.”

“Hello, Gale,” you droned with disinterest.

A more arrogant and disdainful boy never existed than Gale. As a child, he often led the charge of children throwing rocks as you passed by. He always shouted the loudest when it came to how alone and pitiful you were.

But in more recent years, as you developed into a young woman, his gaze became less scornful and more filled with something worse.

He came to stand beside you, though his presence was unwanted, and spoke mischievously, “I can think of much better ways to occupy your time.”

“I’m sure you could,” you spoke, monotonous and uninterested.

Neither your body language or tone could dissuade him. “Everyone has advised me against my attraction to you,” he continued, moving even closer to your side.

You avoided his eyes and retorted, “For that I am eternally grateful.”

Gale ignored your response altogether and said, “They say you’re wild, untamed, and that you would not be a good, dutiful wife.”

Music to my ears, you mused, fighting back a grin. “They are absolutely right.”

Gale crept closer, until you could smell him, until you could feel his hot breath on the top of your shoulder. Your entire body bristled, wary.

“I spent a lot of time with horses, the kind we use for war, and I can assure you,” he whispered coldly. “Even the wildest of them can be broken into submission.”

You rounded on him, refusing to show him even the slightest of fear, and countered, “I’m not a horse. I’m a woman. And I would defy you with every breath in my body until the day I died.”

Gale’s lips broke into a broad smile and he cooed, “And that is what I desire about you.”

You rolled your eyes, parting from the border with a rush to your step. Gale was unnerving. There was malice in his eyes. He didn’t see you as a human, he made that abundantly clear. To him you were an animal, a trophy; something to own and mount on the wall.

He followed you closely, losing what little patience he had. “I would rather you accept my proposal willingly.”

You snorted and kept walking, exclaiming, “That was a proposal?”

“Yes,” he replied, puffing out his chest. “I want you for my wife.”

The mere thought set a bad taste on your tongue. You frowned, wrinkling your nose, and said, “I have no interest in having you as my husband.”

Angered, Gale grabbed your arm roughly and yanked you back, nearly knocking you off of your feet if not for how solidly he gripped you. “And do you think you will ever find better than me?” he shouted, leering over you.

You stared up at him in defiance and said, “I already found better than you and I loved him. And I can still taste his kisses.”

Gale blinked rapidly, shock fading into jealousy. “Is that so? Then, where is he? I do hope I’m invited to the wedding,” he sneered, mocking.

You bit your lip, eyes filling with tears at the memory of Jaebeom casting you out of the forest.

“You are an insane little thing,” Gale muttered, tightening his grip on your arms until you whimpered. “If not for how beautiful you are, I would never waste my time on you.”

At that, Gale released you harshly and skulked away, leaving you with your tears.

You turned a little, gazing solemnly at the forest in the distance. It was time to let go, time to move on. You would have to focus on self-preservation for the foreseeable future. And so you stopped visiting the border, forcing yourself to keep from looking in the woods’ direction.

On the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed. It had been a year since you last saw Jaebeom.

Despite your sadness, your father would never allow you to spend a day in your room and you continued on as if it were any other Thursday. You sat at the table and picked at your breakfast.

Your father did little to hide his eagerness at the offers he received for your hand in marriage. He planned to build his small fortune on your back.

However, the current war waged between men had put a delay on the arranged marriage. And your father’s temper had never been worse.

He reached sharply across the table and grabbed your wrist, growling, “You had better make this man happy. I will hear nothing of you resisting his advances. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, father,” you spoke submissively. You knew nothing of the man he mentioned, only that he would soon own you.

There used to be more fire in you, but it had burned out. Every day felt as cold as the forest had been when she was taken from you.

Your father continued to rant, but his voice faded into the background. All you could think about was the kiss with Jaebeom on your last birthday. Your first kiss. And you shared it with a demon in the canopy of the forest, watching the sun go down.

There was nothing that could compare, nothing that could ease the pain of having lost your only friend on the same day you realized you were in love with him.

Commotion outside tore you from your melancholy thoughts.

Your father glanced through the window, brows stitching, and huffed irritably, “Damn kids harassing something again.”

That piqued your attention. You excused yourself and gathered your heavy skirt in your hands, hurrying outside to see what the rowdy neighborhood boys had found this time. Once you rescued a nest of eggs from their clutches. On another occasion you saved a fawn with an injured leg from their amusement.

This time, the boys were chasing a little black shadow and cornered it along the fence by the chicken coop. Only when you squinted and looked closer did you realize it was a baby panther.

“What is wrong with you?” you exclaimed, snatching a stick from one of the boys’ hands and slapping him over the head with it. “It’s just a baby, you brat!”

“Give it to me,” jeered another boy. “My father can make a little rug from its pelt.”

“I will skin you first if you touch it,” you threatened with a snarl, approaching the small beast delicately.

She seemed to sense your intentions and did not attempt to bite when you hoisted her up by the scruff. You cradled her in your arms, seeing she was female, and spoke soothingly to her.

The little cub wailed, starving for food.

The door to the nearby house burst open and a man wielding a knife yelled, “That little beast killed two of my chickens!”

Your eyes widened at the weapon he brandished and you knew the cub was about to suffer a brutal fate. You couldn’t stomach the thought and so you did what you had always done.

You ran.

The boys shouted with disappointment and called for their fathers. The man preparing to butcher the cub warned of punishment you would endure for blatantly defying him. Another voice, belonging to your father, broke through them all, demanding you stop dead in your tracks.

You listened to none, thinking only of the innocent beast in your arms. She gave no struggle, only gazed up at you with warm yellow eyes. For an animal, she seemed well-aware of the dire situation.

You ran until the border came in sight. Months had passed since you saw its thorns. They had not moved even an inch since the day you were barred from entry, but you had to try.

“You have to let me in,” you yelled with conviction. “I won’t let them kill her!”

The little cub mewled in your arms.

For a moment, you were met with only silence and your heart sank. Someone or something had weighed the scales and did not find in your favor. Tears filled your eyes and you whimpered, desperate.

Then, the forest groaned. It knew your voice, even after all this time.

The boughs shifted and the thorns parted. You were given the smallest of entries, enough space for one person as if you were a highly kept secret. You knew, thought it went unsaid, that the forest would certainly seal itself again in your wake, trapping you inside forever.

This was it.

You contemplated setting the cub at the edge and ushering her inside, but there was no one to feed or protect her. Then, you looked down at the cub and chuckled at your own hesitation. Your heart belonged in the forest and now you could finally return home.

You pressed inside, vanishing into the darkness.

After only a few steps, the thorns came alive again. No one would be able to follow you.

You cradled the cub close to your chest protectively and walked. You had no idea where to go, no thought of where you should go. You merely walked among the trees, breathing in the icy air that tickled your skin.

The forest had darkened. Light struggled to seep through the canopy. You could hardly see ahead and your breath appeared like smoke from your mouth. The cub noticed too and burrowed against your breasts for warmth.

“Don’t worry,” you cooed, exhaling heavily so your breath was manifest. “I’m a dragon.”

The joke may have amused you, but it was lost on the cub’s ears. She whined and hid her face in your arms with a mewl.

You pressed on, reaching the small clearing that once made your heart soar. The ground was brittle, the grass had died. A howl echoed amidst the darkness.

The forest had remained bound in winter for an entire year.

Rustling tickled your ears. The air chilled even more. Ice nearly formed on your lips and lashes. You shivered in place, hands turning numb. But you stood firm, knowing he had come.

Jaebeom descended from the shadows above and your heart jumped wildly in your ribcage. His feet touched the ground and his wings swept gracefully around him, coming to perch over his head.

“I told you,” Jaebeom warned through clenched jaws. “Never to come back here.”

You glared vehemently at him, how he could treat you with such frigid judgment. But you were quick to notice the year had not treated him kindly either. Darkness marred his beautiful, piercing eyes. Even more ink seemed to be branded across his chest. Despite the anger coursing through you, you wanted nothing more than to kiss him and melt the ice.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” you murmured shakily, glancing down at the beast you had smuggled inside. “They wanted to slaughter this little cub.”

Jaebeom took a step closer, peering down at the ebony creature in your arms. She turned and with one look at him, hissed in defiance. You fought a grin, pleased at her reaction.

That was why the forest let you in, Jaebeom mulled with a frown. Your willingness to protect nature. The wood heeded his wishes, but he was also required to heed hers. It was a mutual, symbiotic relationship.

Though he cursed the forest in his mind for letting you inside, he knew she would hear no argument of sending you back.

Jaebeom moved closer, wings dragging the ground behind him. “Are you afraid, cheonsa?” he asked lowly, almost in intimidation.

You hardened your gaze and replied, “No.”

Jaebeom tilted his head and persisted, “But you know I’m a monster.”

You eyed the great horns on his head and scoffed. “You are no monster compared to them.”

Jaebeom came even nearer and you could hardly breathe. Winter had taken residence in his chest and was freezing everything around him. He reached out and stroked a thumb over your cheek. You sucked in a breath. Despite his cold, he carried the scent of a raging wildfire, destroying all in its path.

“If I steal you away, you will be my bride,” Jaebeom reminded, his voice almost like a song. “Can you fathom that - being the demon’s bride?”

You countered, “You can’t steal what is already yours.”

Jaebeom’s eyes flickered and he was tempted to smile. A year for you had been an eternity for him. It still perplexed him how he had been able to survive for so long without you. His wings arched, flaring out in display.

“You broke my heart, Jaebeom,” you whispered morosely. “You chose my life for me.”

Jaebeom nodded, apologetic though he dared not apologize. “Fate had other plans,” he replied gruffly.

“If not for the war, I would be married by now,” you told him with a foul taste in your mouth, then snorted. “It’s been a year. I would undoubtedly have a child as well.”

Jaebeom stuttered, imagining the great swell of your belly or the sight of a dark-haired newborn nursing at your breast. He could barely force out the question, “Do you… want children?”

For the past year, you had been forced to give the notion plenty of thought. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you replied softly, “If I have a child I want them to be from a place of love and passion. Not convenience or obligation.”

“I understand,” said Jaebeom with a nod, glancing down at the cub once more. The little thing promptly gave a high-pitched growl at him.

You looked up at him with wide eyes, surprised. “Do you?”

“Yes.”

Your cheeks flushed as you asked, “Is that what you want from me?”

“What?” Jaebeom exclaimed. “No.”

You searched his face in confusion and pressed, “Then, why do you have to take a bride?”

Jaebeom pursed his lips and spoke dryly, “The Master commands it.”

You shuddered when you realized who he was referring to and said, “He’s not here. Why do it?”

“As we age our magic grows,” Jaebeom explained, surprisingly patient. “That’s why the forest is saturated in black magic.”

You waited.

“We have to find someone, someone we can bond our souls with, or the magic will become too much. It will kill us.”

Your eyes widened. “You mean, I will bear magic?”

He gave a single nod. “Yes.”

Your imagination ran wild and you asked, “Will I grow horns or wings?”

“No, you will stay as you are, but the sun will not smile upon you any longer.”

You sighed, softening a little, “I will be doomed to live in the darkness. Just like you. That’s why you pushed me away.”

Jaebeom’s eyes shone with unshed tears and he reached to cup your cheek, desperate to feel your skin beneath his fingertips again. He pulled you close, lips mere inches from yours, and whispered, “I saw you in the sun. I could never bring myself to take that away from you.”

You set your jaw and replied, “They can keep the sun, but you stole away my light for a year. For what I thought would be the rest of my life.”

Jaebeom winced, hearing that pained him though he already knew it deeply. “I promise, I will spend every day until my last making it up to you.”

You fought a smile, lowering your head to hide the corners of your mouth lifting.

Jaebeom slipped his hand beneath your chin, tilting up until your eyes were on him again. “Well?”

You sang quietly, “The demon comes to take her away. On a bed of stars they will lay.”

Jaebeom smirked before finishing, “And never again will she see the light of day.”

You giggled. It should have come as no surprise he knew the songs your people sang of his kind.

A scream sharply pierced the forest, making your blood run cold. You whirled around, shuffling backwards in horror. Jaebeom wrapped his arms around your waist and steered you behind him.

“What is that?” you gasped. The cub in your arms stirred restlessly, terrified.

“The forest is wounded,” he told you angrily, charging forward. His great wings fanned out, bristling with aggression.

Gale stepped with purpose inside, sword glistening with the dew of trees and vines. He had cut and sliced an opening for himself in pursuit of you.

The moment Jaebeom came into view, Gale gripped the hilt with both hands and held it before himself, shouting, “Stay back, demon!”

Jaebeom was livid and snarled, “You dare bring steel inside this place?”

You molded yourself to his back, a hand on Jaebeom’s arm, and called incredulously, “Gale, what are you doing?”

Gale felt his blood boiling at the sight of you in a demon’s clutches and said, “I saw you run here. I know you’ve been entering the forbidden woods all along.”

Jaebeom snapped, “Be gone from here.”

“Like hell I will,” Gale retorted. “Do you think you can steal my fiancee?”

Jaebeom scowled, seething.

“Your what?” you blurted in disbelief. “Gale, I said I will never marry you!”

“Your father agreed.”

You stood there dumbfounded. It was your worst nightmare come true.

Jaebeom’s wings rustled, a testament to his fury - and his restraint.

Gale held out his hand and called your name. “Come. He won’t take you while I have a sword.”

Jaebeom grimaced, eyeing the weapon with nothing short of loathing.

You let your hand slip down Jaebeom’s arm, moving past him until he was behind you. Jaebeom didn’t stop you. He knew the choice was yours and he would have to live with whatever you decided.

“You said I was insane,” you told Gale, gazing down at the cub against your chest. “Maybe I am. But not nearly insane enough to marry the likes of you.”

Gale recoiled and his face tensed with rage. “You little bitch, come with me now. I bought you fair and square!”

You met his eyes and felt only sympathy. And after a pause, you said, “I am where I belong.”

Jaebeom moved faster than you thought possible, sweeping you in his arms and taking to the air with a forceful beat of his great wings.

Gale’s shouts and threats faded into the rushing of wind.

You gripped Jaebeom tightly, gasping for air and lost for words. The demon soared through the forest, branches moving from his path and birds singing his arrival. When he broke through the canopy, you gasped at the thick fog around you, the same clouds you remembered surrounding the mountain.

Jaebeom flew higher and higher. Your ears began to ring. Your breaths were labored. You had never been at such an altitude. The cub in your arms screamed its confusion.

With you in his arms, the demon burst through the clouds, alighting on a precipice of stone. You looked around curiously, gasping at the sight of a looming castle before you.

For a moment, you held Jaebeom tightly, peering over the crest of his shoulder. He rather liked the heat of your rapid panting on his neck and made no moves to set you down.

“Where are we?”

“Home,” Jaebeom replied softly.

“This is your home?” you asked, voice trembling from the flight as you gawked at the many turrets and towers.

“Our home,” Jaebeom whispered in your ear, nuzzling his face in your hair. The scent of you was overwhelming.

“And what about this little shadow?” you asked, leaning down to kiss the brow of your baby panther. She closed her eyes contentedly at your affection though her fur still stood on end from defying gravity.

Jaebeom lowered you to the ground, an arm wrapped around your waist until you found your balance. “She’s all yours,” he droned. “I’ll have no part in raising her.”

“Shadow,” you mulled to yourself, meeting the yellow eyes of your new companion. “I quite like that name.”

You placed the cub on the ground and she danced at your feet, following you dutifully as you walked with Jaebeom into the castle. The demon pushed open the double doors and you stepped into the endless stone foyer, the pitter-patter of your bare feet echoing down the walls.

“It’s massive,” you said, gazing up at the ceiling and spinning in a circle.

“Mostly unused,” Jaebeom told you blithely. “I tend to keep myself between the bedroom and the kitchen.”

You chuckled, twirling again. Little Shadow refused to part from your feet.

Jaebeom watched you with delight, but you would have never known given the lack of expression on his face. “That… human in the forest,” he began.

“Gale.”

Jaebeom clearly wanted more explanation than that and pressed, “He was your betrothed?”

You laughed. “No. Definitely not.”

Jaebeom still wasn’t satisfied. “He seemed to think so.”

You finally faced him and quipped, “Then, he is much crazier than he ever said I was.”

Jaebeom tilted his head, smiling slightly. “Do your people consider you insane?”

You beamed with pride. “Very much so.”

The demon chuckled.

You studied him, approaching him with purpose in your step, and began, “All of my betrothals fell through. Men were ready to pay for ownership of me. Did you have something to do with their failures?”

Jaebeom shrugged and replied, “Men are preoccupied with the war between realms.”

You cocked a brow. “And how would you know that?”

“I have prayed every day since you left that the war would never end,” Jaebeom told you solemnly.

Folding your arms, you shot back, “I didn’t leave. I was cast out.”

Jaebeom felt his heart clench and hardened his gaze. He reached out and took your hand, bringing it to his lips for a chaste kiss. “And how long are you going to hold that against me?”

You smiled up at him and smarted, “For as long as it pleases me.”

Jaebeom wanted to chuckle. His heart was spinning, dancing in circles. Every moment you stood there before him he found it harder and harder to breathe.

When he woke up this morning, he had no idea you would be with him.

But here you were, the brightest of smiles on your lips, traveling up to your glistening eyes. Jaebeom was hopelessly drowning in his feelings for you.

You blushed when he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His bare chest was hot beneath your fingertips and you wanted to trace the pattern of one of his many tattoos.

“Do you accept me as your husband?”

You stared up at him, the grin making your cheeks hurt, and replied with a single nod, “I do.”

Jaebeom ran his thumb over your bottom lip, studying you intently. “Come with me then,” he beckoned with a low voice.

“Where?”

“To bed,” he replied bluntly, taking your hand and leading you beside him.

Your eyes widened and you asked curiously, “Are you trying to bed me without a wedding?”

He looked over his shoulder. “When I said make you my bride…”

“Oh, I see,” you said, planting your feet and letting your hand slip from his grasp. “I want something more binding.”

Jaebeom stopped, pivoting on his heels to face you, and his wings shuddered with excitement. “There is nothing more binding than me claiming you as my own.”

You found your resolve and reminded him, “Once upon a time, I offered myself to you.”

Jaebeom paused, heart heavy, and murmured, “I remember.”

Your lip trembled. “You made me feel unworthy.”

Jaebeom asserted, “I was the one that wasn’t worthy.”

You sighed. There you stood in the castle of a demon, about to become his bride for all eternity. You had prayed and wished for freedom and protection all your life, and he would forever be your lighthouse in the storm.

One day you would let go of your anger.

“I fully intend to surrender my virtue to you, Jaebeom,” you told him. “But first, I want marriage.”

Jaebeom wrinkled his nose. “Hmph.”

“And a wedding,” you added, at this point resorting to humor to relieve the tension you caused.

“Fine,” he said shortly.

“It can be just us,” you continued, slipping back into his embrace and wrapping your arms around his waist. “And someone obviously to perform the ceremony. Whatever you desire.”

Jaebeom roamed his hands to rest on your hips and his great wings moved instinctively around you, shielding you from invisible dangers. “My only desire is you…,” he finally revealed. “And whatever makes you happy.”

You batted your lashes. “I would not be opposed to a white dress, if you happen to have one.”

Jaebeom exhaled loudly, searching his thoughts for where in hell’s name he could find one. “I need to send a few letters.”

At that, his hands slipped free of your body and he began striding down the hall.

You followed him eagerly, hot on his heels, and asked with excitement, “Does this mean we will fly again?”

Jaebeom turned, brows furrowed. “No,” he replied flatly, pushing a door open and pointing inside. “Stairs.”

“How boring,” you whined, proceeding forward.

The two of you appeared in one of the higher towers, a turret with glassless windows. Ravens congregating inside squawked at your sudden arrival, but quieted at the sight of their fellow winged creature.

Jaebeom took small rolls of paper on the nearby table and began scribbling with a narrow piece of charcoal. You watched in silence as he prepared six brief letters, tucking each into the ankle band of a crow and sending it out into the sky.

“Ravens,” you thought aloud. “We use doves.”

“Doves have very small attention spans and even smaller brains,” Jaebeom deadpanned.

You giggled.

Returning to the main hallway from the tower, Jaebeom said, “Come along. I will show you to your room.”

“My room?” you questioned in pleasant surprise.

Jaebeom held out his arm and you looped yours in the crook of his elbow. “Assuming you won’t come to bed with me until we’re married, it would be poor manners to put you in my room.”

You chuckled. “I see.”

He escorted you to a door and explained, “This is the only spare bedroom that gets any use. My fellow demons sometimes stay here when they come to this side of the forest.”

You nodded to let him know you understood.

Jaebeom pushed the door open and ushered you inside.

“Oh,” you gasped, eyes widening at the scale of your room. Massive windows graced the far wall, curtains blowing lightly in the breeze. The bed lay in the center, on a raised platform, and a canopy of white gossamer material gathered overhead, tied to each of the bedposts.

Your vision darted to the desk along the wall, littered in writing materials. Then, you looked to the bookshelf and quaint reading nook, wanting to throw yourself on the velvet chaise and feel its warmth.

Shadow bolted inside, nearly colliding into your legs, and began to survey the room for herself. You giggled at her joy, following after the baby panther and plopping down on the side of the bed.

Jaebeom struggled to hide his smile more than ever, but his pale face stayed constant. He proceeded to say his goodbyes, allowing you to get settled with privacy.

“Jaebeom,” you called, before he could shut the door.

Jaebeom stuck his head back in and asked, “Yes?”

You gripped the side of the bed, your legs hanging and unable to touch the floor, and hoped he would sate your curiosity. “Do demons really steal away only the most beautiful of mortal women for their brides?”

Jaebeom bobbed his head. “Those of us doomed to live among mortals have no other choice. The Master keeps all she-demons in Hell with him.”

You blinked. “Oh.”

Jaebeom shifted his weight, his wings curling to his back almost in embarrassment as he continued, “We aren’t like your kind. No demon forces a woman into bed with him.”

You had tried to veil the question, but clearly he had realized what you were after and his answer put you at ease.

“We mate for life. Whoever we give ourselves to is our mate until we die. We need them to want us.”

You stood, approaching him somberly. “Am I free to leave? If there ever came a time…”

Though you had accepted him, Jaebeom understood you would want reassurance that you weren’t a prisoner in his castle. “I could not stop you,” he said, tender.

“Even if I am your mate?”

“Then, I would go the rest of my life with half of me missing.”

That’s right, you remembered. He said you would bear magic. “It sounds intense,” you told him. “So final.”

Jaebeom snorted. “We demons tend to live in extremes. Very dramatic, the lot of us.”

Heat flushed your cheeks when you asked shyly, “Would you prefer to have a demoness as your mate?”

Jaebeom shrugged. “I’ve never laid eyes on one.”

You looked down bashfully, tucking hair behind your ear, and mumbled, “I’m sure they’re far more beautiful than I am.”

Jaebeom felt his hands twitching with the urge to take you in his arms again as he whispered, “Nothing in this world or beneath it is more beautiful than you are.”

You lifted your head, gazing up at him while your heart fluttered.

“I’ve said too much,” Jaebeom huffed, gliding back to the door. “Rest now, cheonsa.”

“Why do you call me that?”

He paused, then teased, “It means… clumsy one, in my mother tongue.”

Somehow, you knew that wasn’t true.

Turning back to your room, you grinned and danced on your toes. It was a far cry from your little cot in the attic of your father’s house. Shadow whined at you, curling comfortably on the bed.

But you couldn’t sleep. Excitement raced violently through your veins. You smiled until you covered your face with your hands. Despite having no wings on your back, you swore you could fly.

Here you were, stepping into a new life; one you had always dreamt of, but could never reach.

As you lay on your back in bed, comforted by the crisp night air slipping past your curtains and into your sheets, you thought of Jaebeom. Your mind was consumed with memories of him.

You licked your lips, thinking of his broad chest and muscled arms. He had felt so strong when he carried you through the forest, as if you had been weightless. You imagined it must take endless restraint to keep from breaking you.

Your pulse quickened as you thought of your kiss beneath the trees, how carefully he had laid you on a bed of grass. How gentle his caresses and touches had been.

You tossed and turned a last time before giving up. Such a fool, you thought. As much as you had longed for Jaebeom, every moment of every day for the past year, to be sleeping in the room across the hall from him.

Smirking, you sat up in bed, looking to the baby panther asleep on one of the pillows. You gave her chin a scratch and sang, “Stay here, little Shadow.”

The door to Jaebeom’s room creaked no matter how slowly you pushed it open and you winced. To your relief, the figure in bed did not stir. Tiptoeing closer, you marveled his wings and how they tucked to his body like armor whilst he slept.

You pushed aside the wisp of curtains hanging from his bedframe and climbed onto the mattress, propping yourself over him. How beautiful he was, you thought. You were green with envy at the length of his lashes.

Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his with the most innocent of kisses.

His eyes slowly opened. Clearly he had not been asleep.

“Why are you…” Jaebeom began.

“I changed my mind,” you interjected.

He cocked a brow. “About?”

You straddled his hips and pulled the nightgown over your head, revealing your naked body for the first time.

Jaebeom swallowed the lump in his throat, eyes on your breasts before returning to your face. “No wedding?” he asked, more so for your benefit.

“Yes, wedding and the white dress,” you said levelly. “Tomorrow.”

Jaebeom brought his hands to your thighs, caressing his way to your hips and waist. Then, he confessed like a solemn vow, “All I’ve thought about is you. Every waking moment is you. Every dream I dream is of you.”

You felt tears in your eyes and whispered, “Kiss me, Jaebeom.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. Jaebeom sat up, ensnaring your body in his arms and molding his lips to yours. You held his face in your hands, kissing him back with desire before raking your fingers through his dark hair.

Jaebeom rose with you in his arms, guiding your legs to lock around his waist. His massive wings were daunting as they shrouded protectively over you. They shuddered and rustled with arousal, restless.

You slipped your hands through his locks and gripped his horns, feeling their ridges from base to tip. They were sharp, no surprise there, but Jaebeom seemed to feel nothing.

His wings were entirely different. The moment you touched where they connected to his shoulders, the wings came alive, fluttering. You danced your fingertips through his feathers, pleased at the way Jaebeom’s breaths staggered out as you kissed and touched him.

When you had your fill, you took his hand, fingers covered in black script, and brought it to your mouth, pressing kiss after kiss to his knuckles.

Jaebeom returned your affection, lingering his lips on the curve of your neck, trailing kisses to your collarbone and the swell of your breast. His hand slipped from your grasp and his palms roamed your body, drawn to the softness of your skin. You let out a small whimper when his thumbs rolled over your nipples.

Finally, he tightened his arms around you and asked, “Are you sure?”

You gave him a nod. “Yes.”

Jaebeom pressed his lips to your chest, squarely over your heart. The brands appeared, flesh-colored. Not stark black like his. The markings blended in with your skin.

You clenched your teeth and hissed. The burn of his branding was not painful, but the searing heat took you by surprise. You relaxed when you realized you were in no discomfort.

Then, you tipped your head back and moaned softly. Magic was coursing through your veins, from the tips of your fingers to the soles of your feet. White hot fire pulsed from your heart, like you were consumed in flames.

Jaebeom pulled back, gazing down at his handiwork. The script was in his mother tongue, which one day he hoped you would speak fluently with him. The magic would seep into your bones, living inside you until you both returned to the earth.

“The first of many,” Jaebeom growled, eager to see more brands spread from the anchor across your heart.

You smiled down at him, reaching for his naked chest to trace your fingertips over winding letters that lined his muscles.

Jaebeom cradled your face, running a thumb over your cheek affectionately. You couldn’t part your gaze from his eyes for even a moment.

“Please be gentle,” you whispered shyly.

Jaebeom tugged you down, kissing your lips. Then, his hand parted from your face and landed on your naked breast. “You will never know pain from me, my love,” he growled, kneading your mound. “Only pleasure.”

You swallowed thickly, desperate to kiss him again.

Jaebeom gathered you in his arms and turned, laying you softly on your back and making a place for himself between your thighs. His great wings arched and splayed, hiding you within.

His wings shuddered as he made love to you, like the ecstasy of your body unhinged them. You would never forget how it felt to be one with him, how he not only filled you, but made you overflow. And Jaebeom would never forget how you cried out his name when he found release in you.

Never had you been more satisfied. Every ache in your body was gone, never to return. The longing in your soul had dissipated. You were completely whole. All of your life you had been running and searching.

Finally, you were home.

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Hi! Can I just say that I love your writing, thank you for satisfying my daily dose of Sonny Carisi💚💚💚 If you're still taking requests, could you do: 21) “What do you mean she’s my new partner? She tried to kill me last week!” “Sounds like a you problem.” 11) “You’re insane,” “You love me,” “Not right now I don’t.” 78) “Okay so I love you. Don’t let it go to your head”

Bickering

A/N: Hey Anon <3 This got broken up into 3 different scenes, so I hope it all makes sense! But, I adore goofy Sonny so ding dang much! Also, could you imagine Sonny jogging? I cannot. Though, while coming up with his jogging attire, Sonny in short shorts floated through my mind. Try and get that image out of your head. I hope you enjoy <3

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How the fuck did Sonny let Amanda talk him into this? She had him convinced that women liked guys who went jogging. But god did he hate it. He was sweaty and gross, his un-gelled hair hanging limply in his face, completely out of his comfort zone in a dark grey muscle tank, and matching basketball shorts. His knees hurt, his feet were sore, and his side was starting to cramp. His lungs burned and he woke up way too early for this shit. This was not how he wanted to spend his days off, and he was definitely not doing it in the mornings before work, no matter how Amanda pressured him.

Sonny finished a trail in the park, sweat dripping down his face. He turned onto the sidewalk, jogging through the suburbs of NYC. If he could just push through until he made it home, then he could call it a job well done, and then never do it again.

He was down in the bike lane, leaving the sidewalk open to the public, who were walking like normal people. As he went around a parked car, though, there was a shout from behind him.

“Look out!”

Sonny’s instincts took over, and he dodged to the left, out into the street. An incoming car honked as it swerved around him, a woman on a bike passing by his right side where he was moments before by the parked car.

“Watch where you’re going!” you yelled, losing control of your bike, leaping off before you crashed into the parked car. “What the hell’s your problem? The bike lane is for bikes.”

Sonny got out of the middle of the road, coming to stand near you. “I was letting the general public use the sidewalk,” he explained defensively.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, whatever,” you replied, getting back on your bike and riding away. Sonny shook his head, continuing on his shitty run, even more disenchanted than before.

 ****************

Sonny finished his weekend by staying at home, relaxing, and more importantly, not jogging. Happily dressed in his work suit, Sonny made his way into the precinct, a bag of zeppoles in one hand, a coffee in the other.

“I brought breakfast,” he announced to his coworkers, dropping the bag on his desk.

Amanda grinned at him. “I hope you brought extra—we got fresh meat.” Sonny only had enough time to quirk an eyebrow at her before Olivia came out of her office, a new detective trailing behind her. His eyes narrowed as they connected with yours.

“Oh no, not her,” he muttered under his breath.

Amanda glanced at him, but Olivia cleared her throat, gaining everyone’s attention. She introduced you, telling them that you had just transferred into Manhattan, and ending with, “she’ll be partnering with you today, Carisi.”

Sonny spurted, “what do you mean she’s my new partner? She tried to kill me!” There was a moment of silence as everyone looked between you too, confused.

“Me?” you asked, incredulous. “You were the one that tried to make me crash my bike!”

Sonny scoffed. “I wasn’t trying to do anything to you! You were the one that—”

“Enough you two!” Olivia said, her voice cutting through Sonny’s voice. She gave Sonny a hard look. “You’re going to get over this, and you’re going to be taking her under your wing, got it, Carisi?”

He sighed, defeated. “Sure thing, Lieu.” Olivia nodded, heading back to her office, leaving you standing there, glaring daggers at Sonny. Amanda was giving Sonny a smirk, her eyes lit up playfully, and he murmured under his breath, “she did try to kill me….”

“Sounds like a you problem,” Amanda replied, chuckling, and he glared at her.

 *******************

It had been about a month since you and Sonny had been partnered, and your relationship was about the same, i.e., driving each other up the wall. Somehow, though, you both managed to work well together, even if you argued constantly.

You were tailing a perp through a crowded street. Sonny had split from you, trying to head the perp off. You could see him in the crowd ahead of you, looking like, well, a cop. The only thing was, this meant the perp also saw him, and drew the same conclusions. He turned around, eyes latching to yours, then took off in the other direction, heading for the park across the street.

“Freeze, NYPD!” Sonny yelled, your voice echoing after his as you both took off after him. The perp had a head start, tearing down the stairs. Sonny, with his long legs, easily outpaced you. But even so, he was only halfway down the stairs by the time the prep had cleared them, making it to the grass. Unwilling to be outdone by Sonny, you made up your mind. Putting one foot on the banister of the stairs, you leapt over it, your body weightless as you flew through the air, arms outstretched. You heard Sonny’s shout as you collided with the prep’s back, both of you slamming to the hard ground. You grunted as you landed, pain shooting through your body.

Sonny made it down the rest of the stairs as you pushed yourself to your knees, taking the cuffs out of your back pocket. The perp was groaning on the ground, not resisting as you cuffed him.

“You’re under arrest,” you muttered, just as Sonny made it to you.

“What the hell was that? He chastised you, his hands on his hips.

You glared at him. “It was me catching our perp.”

“No; it was you being stupid. What if you seriously injured yourself?” Sonny asked.

You pulled yourself to your feet, and Sonny grabbed the perp, dragging him to upright. “I don’t live in ‘what ifs,’ Carisi. I live in ‘I’m a badass’.” You grinned at him, and he rolled his eyes.

“You’re insane,” he shook his head, leading the perp back up the stairs.

You followed, still smiling smugly at him. “You love me.”

“Not right now I don’t.”

 ******************

As much as you hated to admit it, Sonny was right—your methods were a little on the…dangerous side. So, you tried to scale it back…tried to. But Sonny brought out the wild side of you; you weren’t sure why you felt the need to show off in front of him. Maybe it was because it made you laugh when his accent got thicker when he was distressed or upset. Maybe it was because he had the most colorful insults you’ve ever heard. Or maybe you just loved riling him up. Either way, you realized you needed to take some precautions if you were unable to stop yourself from trying to one-up him. Which is why you started wearing a vest under your shirt, barely visible, only if you really looked.

“What do we got, Son?” you asked, crouching behind the low wall.

Sonny was in front of you, barely peering around the wall. “I see…our perp with our bait…. But someone’s walking by…and they got a kid?”

“What?!” This was supposed to be a simple bait and bust; your bait gets the perp to sell him drugs, and you and Sonny take ‘em down. But in the rush to set this up before the perp had a chance to flee the city, Sonny didn’t have a vest on, while you did. As such, you wanted to take the lead on this, but Sonny stubbornly refused.

Sonny’s eyes went wide as the perp sussed out that this was bait; he pulled out a gun, turning towards the woman and child who were innocently walking by. “He’s got a gun!” Sonny reported. He made a move to go around the wall, to try and protect the civilians, but you were quicker. Shoving Sonny back against the wall, you pushed past him, making it between the perp and his targets just before he pulled the trigger.

The bullet hit your stomach, and you grunted as you doubled over. Sonny reacted on instinct, firing his own gun, hitting the perp once in the chest.

“[Y/N]!” Sonny yelled as he booked it to you. “Shit, are you okay?” Tears were instantly in his eyes as you groaned in pain. “Don’t you die on me, dammit,” he murmured. “I…I care about you too much….”

You glanced up at him, grimacing in pain. “W-what?”

Sonny averted his gaze nervously. “Look, I know we bicker, but I…I really like you, okay? Maybe even love—”

“Carisi, I’m wearing a vest, dude. I’m not, like, dying,” you murmured, your cheeks burning at his deathbed confession.

His eyes went wide, a blush high on his cheeks. “O-oh…” he trailed off.

Pulling yourself to your feet, you checked on the woman and her child, who were thankfully fine. Then, you lifted your shirt, undoing your vest to examine the bruise already forming on your stomach. “So, uh, wanna talk about it?” you asked, glancing up at Sonny as you pulled your shirt back down.

His face was still red, his eyes anywhere but yours. “Not really.”

You grinned at him. “Aww, come on, Detective Carisi. You said you looovvveedddd meeee~!”

“I only said that cause I thought you were dyin’,” Sonny replied, huffing.

“Don’t be like that. You know you love me,” you teased.

Sonny let out a frustrated sigh. “Okay, so I love you. Don’t let it go to your head,” he grunted, moving towards the perp’s body. He pulled out his phone to call Liv, let her know about the shooting.

You smirked after him, but as you watched his back on the phone, your heart fluttered in your chest. So, maybe you had a thing for him, too…. You’d tell him one day, but for now, it was more fun teasing him.

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Normal ~ A.L.

A/n: Ah yes, this is going to be fun.

Request: “...Alec lightwood x male reader. Maybe the reader is mundane and shows Alec what it’s like being human for a day and then Alec shows him what it’s like being a shadow hunter. And maybe the whole time Alec is like o my word I love this kid...” by anon

Word Count: 5100+ (this is why it took me so long CHRIST I’m sorry)

MASTERLIST

You know, the thing that kept Mundanes seeing into the world of the Shadowhunters was a funny thing. It was supposed to always work, blocking humans from seeing monsters and those that hunted monsters. The problem was, nothing was perfect. Everyone made mistakes. Everything glitched from time to time.

I guess you could call Y/n a glitch.

The thing that kept humans from seeing things they shouldn't? It didn't work for Y/n.

When Y/n had first been seen facing down a vampire, it had seemed a little odd. The woman the vamp was going after seemed miffed that some dude was cutting in on her date, and everyone was confused. When they had killed the thing and Y/n had thanked them afterward, they'd all assumed he might have been like Clary - unaware of his Shadowhunter background somehow. But he had assured them he was human, and had proved it. Thankfully, since the plan had been to use a rune on him and if they had, he would have absolutely died.

Y/n was just immune to the magic that should have kept him far out of the knowing of what was really going on in the shadows of his town. Which left him unable to do anything, other than gather information and share it when he could. Y/n had no magic and no way to fight when he had no training or run protections, but he did have a talent for tricking monsters with their one weakness. He was human, and they were hungry.

Long story short: Y/n was really good at being bait, and he didn't mind it either.

Alec minded it a lot.

The two boys had gotten close pretty quickly. Alec refused to admit it, but Y/n was pretty charming. He had a nice smile and a contagious laugh, and a sort of lightness about him that was incredibly refreshing. It wasn't that he was untouched by darkness, or that he was fresh and innocent and waiting to be destroyed, like they all were before their line of living had ruined them. Y/n had been aware of monsters all his life, and being surrounded by people who could not see what he could see had landed him in either very near death situations, or mental hospitals a few times before he'd learned how to lie. He'd even been medicated really heavily a few times, but when that had done nothing, Y/n had come to terms that there was something going on that other people couldn't see. He had been in this business for a very long. No, Y/n was just the kind of person that refused to lose that inner child. He was soft and strong, and could make anyone smile and any situation bearable.

The way he made life so much more beautiful drew Alec in so aggressively, the Lightwood boy lost his breath every time.

Y/n was good at getting along with everyone else too. He wasn't good at much other than writing, leaving him to connect with Clary because of the similar vibes of their childhood, as well as their mutual passion for art. He and Simon bonded over poetry as well. Izzy enjoyed having someone who could keep up with her flirting, without it meaning anything or leading to something neither of them wanted. Even Jace was enjoying Y/n's presence when he proved that despite his lack of an ability to fight monsters and the such, Y/n WAS well trained in self defense. The two sparred while Y/n cracked jokes and made Jace laugh. Yeah, the blonde and brooding Jace was actually LAUGHING.

Having Y/n around was very refreshing.

So they all missed him a lot when he wasn't around.

Y/n attended college to chase am Arts History degree, and worked two jobs to keep himself afloat. The day Alec got permission to let Y/n move into the Institute was a great day for everyone. Now he was around a lot more- especially because now that he didn't have to pay rent, he could quit one of his jobs. In his free time, Y/n spent cleaning gear and learning how to hone his lame cooking skills. He wasn't great, but he was better than Izzy and was usually the only one with the energy to try it at the end of the day. When Hodge... went rogue, Y/n took charge of keeping up the Garden and learning all he could about how this world worked so he could take care of things and keep everything running smoothly. This left him spending most of his time in the library, reading up on history books.

One day though, Y/n needed Alec's help. Tensions between the two boys had risen almost to over spilling, but every time Y/n thought they were going somewhere, Alec stepped back. Y/n respected the boy's hesitance and never pushed, but the dragging was getting to everyone else. Izzy especially, who wanted the coolest mundane ever to get with her brother.

That wasn't why Y/n was bothering Alec now though. "Hey can I clean the glowing weapons things, or like... will those kill me?"

Alec couldn't help slip a small smile when he heard Y/n's voice. He turned around to see the boy coming in, a huge book in his hand but a confused look on his face. "Please tell me you're not talking about Seraph Blades."

"Those are the ones," Y/n confirmed without hesitation.

Alec shifted, raising an eyebrow. "They're just... fire."

"Well yes," Y/n drawled, rolling his eyes. "But the tubes. I mean, when they deactivate there's still something there, right? Doesn't that get covered in blood and stuff? Won't it getting all icky mess with the magic? And I've never seen any of them dirty. So do you guys have to clean them, or can I?"

That was very confusing to Alec. "Okay hold on. Have you never seen us kill a demon before?"

Y/n got rather sheepish then. "In my defense, I usually get in the way if I help, so I run unless there's someone in immediate danger. The last time, when I tried to help that girl, I almost got her, myself, AND Jace killed.

Alec flinched at the memory. "Jace is an idiot. Him jumping in when he did was his own fault."

"Wouldn't have been necessary if I wasn't provoking a damn vampire," Y/n mumbled.

"That girl probably would have died if you hadn't. We couldn't have attacked him with her there without chancing hurting her, or exposing ourselves. You saved her." Alec was ready to argue this, far too used to Jace's tendency to see the worst in himself despite the fact that he was actively a hero.

Y/n had to relent. "Fine, whatever. So, the blade?"

"Demons don't bleed," Alec explained. "They... well, it depends on the demons actually. Some turn to dust, or explode into fire. Some just kind of fade away. No need to clean blood off our weapons."

Y/n nodded, but obviously had a follow up question, so Alec waited for him to ask it. "Doesn't the dust get on your clothes? Does the fire ever burn you? Perhaps I should pick up some medical skills as well in case you guys come home hurt. Might make me more useful."

Alec rolled his eyes this time. "If you're seriously stuck on the idea of running this place instead of going out there and working in an art museum like you told Clary is your dream job, I won't stop you. That's not my decision to make." Y/n blushed, but Alec pretended not to see it. "However, if you're going to be one of us there are things you have to understand." He hesitated. "I want you to follow us around me around sometime. I can show you what it's like to be a Shadowhunter. You can even come on a mission if you want, but I want you to stay FAR out of danger, do you understand?"

"Yes sir." Y/n was grinning, and between that and what he had said, Alec felt his chest heat up with a weird emotion he refused to address. "When do we start?"

A soft chuckle came from Alec then. "How about tomorrow? I'll wake you up bright and early, so be prepared."

Y/n nodded eagerly, already walking backward - presumably to return the book so he could head to bed. "Great! See you tomorrow, Alec!" He turned around and jogged away then.

Alec couldn't help himself but appreciate the view as Y/n retreated down the hall. He heard someone clear their throat and looked over to see Clary, whose smirk was so wide it wiped the smile off of Alec's face. He turned away from her and moved toward his own room. What had he gotten himself into?

-

When Alec got to Y/n's room that morning, he was expecting to have to wake the other boy up. Unfortunately for him, when he opened the door, Y/n was already awake. And getting dressed. He wore the long, dark pants a lot of the guys around here wore when they weren't in Mundane clothes. He did not, however, have a shirt on. "Oh, good morning Alec," Y/n greeted brightly.

Alec almost exploded right there. Y/n wasn’t especially muscly, but he was rather lean. Y/n did a lot of walking, running, and casual work outs every once in a while before meeting the Shadowhunters. He knew self defense after all, and liked that the occasional work out filled him with energy after a while, even if it tired him out at first. Since joining the Institute though, Jace had enforced a daily workout. Some days Y/n got even more done when the two boys sparred, or when he had to move things around for research (those books were a lot heavier than they looked) or rearranged his room again because he liked to have a new layout every once in a while. Y/n had become the extra pair of hands everyone was excited to have. He was strong enough to spot for a lot of the other Shadowhunters even, leaving him in that comfortable middle between ripped and soft. He had angles and lines, but plenty of soft edges too. He looked like he could pick Alec up and then cuddle him just as easily. It was a body type that looked very good on the boy, and seeing him shirtless did things to Alec that should not have been being done.

It was then that Alec realized Y/n was talking to him. "I'm sorry, what?"

Y/n laughed, shaking his head in amusement. He put a shirt on, leaving Alec wondering if the boy knew what had left Alec so distracted. "I asked you what was first on the agenda today."

"Have you done your morning workout today yet?" Y/n shook his head. "Then that's where we'll start." And they did. Alec pushed himself further usual, and he knew he was doing it to show off to Y/n, but he also knew a little part of him wanted to outshine Y/n too. The boy kept up pretty well, and Alec didn't want to have a Mundane do better than him. After, they got breakfast, parted to shower, and then rejoined again to head to the sparring ring.

"You guys do a lot of training here," Y/n realized aloud.

Thankfully Alec had caught it, because he was super distracted by the way Y/n's wet hair shone under the lighting of the Institute, and the way it made his eyes look brighter. He didn't need to get caught for staring again. "Yeah. It takes up time, but it also keeps us ready for any surprise attacks, and prepared for nighttime hunts." Y/n nodded but didn't say anything else as they reached the rings. Alec grabbed two long staffs, passing one to Y/n as they stepped up to spar. Y/n knew what to do - he did it often with Jace. Alec was sure he'd claim victory over the Mundane.

Which left him rather speechless when Y/n pinned him. They were both out of breath and Y/n loomed over Alec, his feet planted and knees trapping Alec as the end of Y/n's staff rested threateningly against Alec's throat. "You're dead," Y/n joked.

Alec looked at Y/n with new eyes. What was with this guy? Why did Alec have to try so much harder to end up on top? Mundanes were like Clary and Simon, before they'd been trained. Alec could still remember how long both of them had lost time and time again to even the newest and youngest Shadowhunters. How could Y/n win against Alec? "How are you so good at fighting? I thought your thing was writing stories."

Y/n moved back, letting Alec go. He offered a hand and Alec took it. He was once again knocked breathless when Y/n hauled Alec to his feet without seeming to even struggle. "I'm stronger than I look. And... when I was younger, I didn't have shadowhunters and parabatai to have my back. I had to learn how to defend myself. Whether it was running from monsters, or making sure I didn't get pummeled by bigger kids who called me crazy and laughed at me because of the stories I supposedly made up..." He shrugged.

That didn't settle well in Alec's stomach. "I don't think any of us know what it's like to live like that. Clary doesn't remember, and the rest of us grew up with each other. I... I'm sorry, that's terrible."

There was a second when Alec saw the heaviness that Y/n hid so well in the boy's shoulders. Suddenly Alec was stunned by how someone so burdened by pain and sorrow could still radiate so much light and joy and comfort. How did Alec only now know that Y/n was capable of winning against even a well trained Shadowhunter, if he was really trying? Why was it such a shock that someone who grew up with deformed nightmares roaming around, would be able to kick some ass and defend himself? Alec realized then that Y/n made everyone feel safe. Y/n didn't seem able to hurt anyone, even if he wanted to. It made Y/n even more amazing that he was capable of defending someone if he had to, but chose not to in favor of making people feel safe around him. I dare say it made Alec feel even more safe.

Y/n sighed, and the moment passed. He was smiling again and Alec felt his heart swell with a feeling that terrified the dark haired boy. A feeling that also made him feel... really great too. "So what's next on the agenda, Lightwood?" "Jace will have our goal for tonight. Come on." Alec lead the way as they both headed to where Jace was. Alec explained the situation, and with Y/n's assurance he'd be plenty safe, Jace agreed. Y/n had been around a lot, and Alec was right - if he was up keeping the place, he had to know what being a Shadowhunter was actually like. After that had been settled, the trio headed to track down Izzy and Clary for the mission tonight.

"First thing first, Y/n's joining us tonight. He won't be getting involved, and will only be tagging along for educational purposes so he can know what he's dealing with as he gets more involved with how this place work, as well as the people in it," Jace began. Izzy and Clary both nodded, no arguments to be heard. "Okay, now down to business." Long story short, there were two demons who had teamed up and they had to kill it. Usual stuff.

Since when had demons and murder become Y/n's normal? Yikes.

The kill went rather smoothly, just like it was supposed to. It was a nice change from all the odd things that had been rocking everyone's world since Clary, Simon, and Y/n had joined the team. Very good for teaching as well. Y/n stayed back as promised, taking notes mentally and internalizing it. He thought about his thought earlier on how murder and demonic beings had at some point gone from nightmare to reality. Normal, even. For Shadowhunters, there was no shift. They grew up and lived a life where monsters were more than nightmare and you learned to kill from a young age. Perhaps it was fair, since they were bad guys surviving off of killing humans, but still. Alec knew how to kill Y/n. He probably could, if it was required or just if he wanted to. He could do it and he would get away with it too. Shadowhunters leave no trace and no Nephalim was going to care about Y/n being dead.

As the dark thought started to rise, Y/n pushed it down. As much as he seemed a bundle of effortless happiness and light, even he had his moments. He was just better at keeping them in check.

Everyone came home and got ready for bed as Y/n made food. He finished up before anyone came to eat so he killed time by making everyone's plate and putting them on the counter. When he was still alone, he sat on the counter and let himself get lost in thought. Just as he was, Clary popped into the room. "That smells amazing."

Y/n smiled. "I hope it tastes as good as it smells then." They both chuckled as Clary grabbed her plate and began to leave. "Going so soon?"

She nodded. "I have this... it's sort of um..." she seemed to be struggling. "Drawing. Can I show you later?" It was a habit she'd gotten from Y/n, losing her words when she was excited. She had been a little like that before being a Shadowhunter, when it came to art. Y/n fueled it again and set off her fire. She was more into art than ever and Y/n loved to see it, even if it meant one less person at the dinner table.

Y/n had been trying to have family dinners, but most of the time his efforts dissolved. Rarely did he get everyone. Usually he only managed to wrangle a few, and sometimes he ate alone. When a Clary left, it wasn't long before Simon and Izzy meandered in, lost in conversation about something. Y/n wasn't totally listening, as they were obviously midconversation and Y/n was lost as to what they‘d said up until now. They each grabbed a plate and headed out. Y/n sighed and watched them, but still said nothing.

Jace came next. "What did you think about the fight tonight?"

Y/n jumped and then chuckled. Jace gave a sort of guilty look. The blonde tended to hide his emotions, but when it came to Y/n he was always sorry to disturb the boy. Y/n had just seemed very pensive - nearly sad - and Jace hated the expression on Y/n's face. He was too used to the others who were trained to notice other people in the room even if they were quiet.

Quickly composing himself again, Y/n responded. "It was... cool, I guess. You guys are incredibly talented and there's something aesthetic about watching demons vaporize. It gave me a lot to think about."

"Like what?" Have asked, eyebrow cocked.

For a second Y/n hesitated but then Jace doned a prying look and Y/n was a terrible liar so he gave in. "You guys don't know what it's like to be human." Jace's expression darkened and Y/n flinched. "I mean, you have this angel blood that puts you above everyone else. You slay demons and purify the world and handle the boosting power of runes that any other creature would be destroyed by. You know what it's like to be angel. Except maybe the flying." The joke lifted Jace's mood a little. "But you don't know what it's like to... I mean, you're half human. But I can't imagine  any of you getting jobs or going to high school. Being vulnerable without the protection of your runes and the insane immunity they grant you. I mean- like earlier, I realized that Alec could one hundred percent kill me if he wanted to, and he would get away with it. No human would know, and no Nephilim would care so-"

"Clary, Izzy, and I would care." Jace seemed to have not meant to say it out loud. But he had and it stopped Y/n short.

He felt cared for and it made him uncomfortable. Jace could sense that. "Well that's... not the point." He blushed. "But thank you."

Jace nodded, then moved on to spare Y/n. The other boy obviously wasn't used to having people care about him. It made Jace remember that Y/n's life had been really hard. Y/n had spent almost all his life alone. Sometimes it was easy to forget with how kind and loving Y/n was. He was used to taking care of other people but being taken care of? Yikes. "Does it bother you?"

Y/n immediately shook his head. "Not at all. I don't feel in danger, at least. I trust all of you guys and know that none of you want to kill me. It does bother me though that you don't get to experience that normalcy. I mean does anyone here bake just for fun? Or have hobbies outside killing literal demons?" Jace went to speak but Y/n cut him off. "Clary doesn't count, she wasn't raised a Shadowhunter." Jace's mouth closed and Y/n sighed. "I just wish more... safe things for you guys. More fun and laughing and loving and less sneaking around in the shadows and killing. Thinking like that all the time... living a life where you only survive and hide and kill. I can't imagine it does good things for your mental health."

"I'm in perfect health," Jace reassured Y/n.

Y/n rolled his eyes. "No you're-" He stopped, shaking his head. He hesitated, perking up when an idea occurred to him. "What if I incorporated a little humanity into how we run things here? We can have like arts and crafts rooms and encourage people to utilize the library and the garden for things other than just necessities. I can enforce family dinners and we can congregate and have awkward family dinner discussions like normal people."

Jace smiled. "That sounds really nice actually."

That encouraged Y/n a lot. "Perfect, I'll start tomorrow."

"Start what?" Two sets of eyes turned to see Alec coming in the room. His eyes lingered on Jace, who seemed to be light on fire by the eye contact, as he was instantly on his feet, grabbing his plate, and heading out.

"Y/n can explain. He has a really great idea." He paused, smiling wider. "I'll see you at dinner tomorrow." Then he headed out, leaving behind a grinning Y/n. Alec snagged the last two plates, setting one by Y/n and the other on the counter next to him. He then pulled up a chair, turning it backward so the back of the chair was against his chest as he sat down, beginning to eat on the counter rather than the table to keep Y/n company. "What was that?"

Another idea hit Y/n then. "I'm going to bring some goddamn humanity to this Institute. You're all half human and you act like that's a bad thing or something! I'll start with a crafting room, and then using the garden and library for fun stuff instead of just what we need. We'll have a calendar with birthdays and celebrate each one with a proper little get together. AND, we're having family dinners from here on. Spread the word."

The authority in Y/n's tone took Alec off guard. "Will do." He found himself smiling a little. "I show you what it's like to be a Shadowhunter and you took from it that we need to be more human?"

Y/n mulled that over for a second, rather than letting it go as the joke Alec had intended it to be. "I don't want to erase your angel half. I know what you do is important, and that you guys save people and stuff. But even though you do good things for others, none of you do anything for yourselves. Self care isn't just staying in shape and getting food and sleep and healing yourselves when you get hurt. Do you have any hobbies other than fighting, Alec?" The Lightwood boy considered before conceding that Y/n had a point. "You showed me how to be a Shadowhunter. Now let me show you what it's like to be human." Alec's smile grew. "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," Y/n agreed.

-

The day started the same, with Y/n respecting that Alec still had a routine and also that said routine was one some people carried as well. The waking up early and doing a morning workout, more than the killing demons and keeping vampires, werewolves, and fairies in check, but still.

Next, Y/n pulled him over to his laptop where he was going to online school. As Y/n worked, he answered questions about high school and even middle school. The more he talked the more Alec's face twisted in a bitter expression, like he'd bit into a lemon. Y/n busted up laughing when he got to math and Alec moved away from the screen as if it had offended him. "Not as glamorous as kicking ass and taking names and saving lives and shit, but it's cool. I guess."

Alec shook his head. "Is this... necessary?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Y/n snorted. "Do you use math like this? Ever?" Alec shook his head no. "And you're far more productive than most people who graduate college- and debt free!"

There was a moment where Alec seemed speechless. When he spoke again, it was slow. "This is kind of nice though. Easier to.. handle." He eyed the math page again. "No, I take that back. This is much scarier."

Y/n laughed at that. "Less deadly though. I get it." Alec smiled at him. It was so small it practically wasn't there, but it was, and it was sweet.

After a while, Y/n put his homework away. "That's not due for a while. Having to balance the human world and the shadow world was difficult at first so one night I pulled an all nighter and got weeks ahead on homework. My teachers were a little miffed since thy hadn't taught me the material yet, but easy ones like English were easy to swallow. Just, read a book and write an essay. You know?" Alec did nod knowingly at that. "My point is, we've had enough of this and don't have to finish it for tonight, so now is a good time for a break." He hummed to himself, thinking. "Do you guys have a TV here?" Alec rose his eyebrows. "That's what I thought. Come on we're going to go to my place."

So they did.

Alec had never been to Y/n's apartment before. Y/n had been clearing it out slowly, but there were still some thing here. Things that he couldn't take with him to the institute. Things like the fridge and the big furniture and, yes, the TV. It wasn't that he couldn't fit his bed and couches in the Institute, it was just that it would make it official if he did, and things still seemed to be up in the air for him.

"It's nice." It was perfectly clean and bright. The curtains were drawn to let the sun in and the walls were painted a light baby blue. The whole place made Alec relax his body. He sat on the very comfy couch and practically melted. There was just a sort of ambiance here that gave Alec the impression nothing bad could ever happen here. Which went against logic and reason and experience and training... but I guess that programming wasn't enough to fight the way the couch dipping with Y/n's weight, next to Alec, felt like... safety personified.

The two watched a few movies Alec had never seen or even heard of. Halfway through the Lion King, Alec felt his body lean into Y/n's. Without missing a beat Y/n shifted his arm so Alec could lean into in more, even rest his head on the other man's chest. Every time Y/n moved or laughed or spoke Alec didn't just hear it. He felt it. It was amazing.

All too soon, the sun was down and it was nighttime. "Do you want to watch another one, or should you be heading to bed soon?"

Surprise overtook Alec when he realized what time it was. His body was completely undone and his heart rate had evened out. He'd never been this calm in his life. "I'm surprised Jace hasn't come hunting me down."

That made Y/n smile. "I told him the plan for today. Told him that I was commandeering you and if he showed up to steal you tonight I'd kick his ass personally. I may be a Mundane but that won't stop me from finding a way to knock the blonde out of his hair." A jerking laugh bubbled from Alec then at the mental image of Y/n doing such a thing. "Yeah," Y/n agreed, chuckling along. "Took some convincing to get them to all take the night off. Jace argued, but as much as saving people is important, taking care of yourselves is just as important. And after you showed me what you guys do every single day... Holy shit."

Weird feelings began to twist in Alec's stomach. He could lie very well, about a lot of things. He could lie so convincingly that Jace would back off, and Izzy would let it go. He could lie to his mother to meet her ever demanding expectations. Unfortunately, he could only lie to himself for so long until his realist side kicked in and demanded him to accept what was.

He was in love with Y/n.

Well, shit.

"What are you thinking about over there?"

Alec felt his stomach flip. Double shit.

"Just... uh." He flinched at his sudden awkwardness. Y/n frowned, noticing it since they were so close. "I just want to thank you. The way you've thrown yourself into our lives and way of living and have done your best to keep everything going and then improve upon it? It's amazing. You work really hard to make life better for us."

Y/n swallowed, his face relaxed but his eyes intense. There was something in those eyes that was begging to be seen and known, but Alec was too scared to acknowledge it. What if Y/n could see through him and wanted to just be friends? What if Y/n was trying to be polite? But if that was the case, wouldn't he have pushed Alec away? Why was he pulling him closer?

Then they were kissing and it was all because of Y/n and Alec didn't have any doubts anymore.

When they parted again, Alec's mind was racing and Y/n's voice was soft. "I'll always be here Alec. All I want to do is make your life better and easier and more pleasant. You deserve it."

This time Alec kissed Y/n, and it lasted much longer and was much more intense. When they parted for the second time, Alec whispered, "Will you move in for real? I want you around all the time. I want you close and safe and I don't want you to go anywhere else. I don't want you to have to."

Y/n smiled. "Anything for you."

-

Male reader tags: @sheepfather​

[littlelovelyspiderling]

Unmasked

Spider-Man is forced to fight the Sinister Six while he’s sick, which leads to his enemies making unexpected discoveries about their arch nemesis.

Chapter 2

Doc Oc’s notoriously dull and empty lab was filled with bodies and excitement that evening. The Sinister Six piled eagerly into the large room as Octavius dumped a bloody, unconscious Spider-Man onto one of the examination tables. An uproar of cheers and laughter followed.

“The spider is finally squashed!”

“Is he still alive? No way he’s still alive.”

“Heart’s still beating, according to the computer.”

“Who cares? The little bitch finally got what was coming to him.”

“I wanna break his other leg. Can I break his other leg?”

“Now, now, listen, my comrades.” Octavius rose above the group on his metal limbs, tapping a glass against a bottle of champagne until the room fell quiet. “Before we continue, I think a win this spectacular deserves to be celebrated accordingly.”

Using the prehensile pincers at the ends of each tentacle, Otto poured and distributed the alcohol with ease, and everyone raised their glasses.

 “A toast to us, the greatest super villains to ever grace history!”

“Here, here!”

“And a toast to Spider-Man! The biggest, most obnoxious pain in all our asses—vanquished at last!”

Laughs and shouts preceded the communion. After downing his drink, Otto wiped his lips with a grin. 

“And as the leader of this great and glorious team, I am nothing if not giving to my loyal followers. Since you all deserve personal retribution for the many, many grievances this wretch has inflicted upon us, I promise each of you at least two minutes of reparation time to do to Spider-Man whatever you feel he deserves. Once we wring his throat dry of whatever information he possesses, he’s all yours. So long as I get to deal the final blow.” He chuckled. “Well, if he survives that long, anyway.”

“I’ll snap off all his fingers!”

“I’ll gag him with his own webbing!”

“I’ll pop his head like a grape!”

“I’ll zap him ’til his heart stops, then zap it back to life, then zap him dead again!”

“Revenge is sweet,” Octavius concurred, walking around the table to stand behind Spider-Man’s head. The rest of the Sinister Six went silent and gathered on either side of the fallen hero, with Rhino at his feet. “But first,” Doc continued, reaching forward with one of his mechanical tentacles. The tips of the metal prongs pinched the fabric at the top of Spider-Man’s mask.

“Let’s have a look at our arch enemy’s face.”

In one quick yank, the mask peeled off the hero’s head. Six pairs of eyes absorbed the bruised, pale face lying lifelessly before them—the face of their sworn nemesis. A face none of them were anticipating. Gradually, the grins and snickers faded away, replaced by furrowed brows and puzzled glances.

“Wait…” Electro said, breaking the long stretch of silence.

“I’m…confused,” Scorpion added.

“Is he—does he look—?”

“Like…a kid?”

Everyone’s gazes rose to Octavius. The brilliant scientist looked between them and Spider-Man bewilderedly, his mouth hanging agape.

“I…” he began, rolling the hero’s head to the side. An ugly gash marred his left cheek; dried blood was smeared all the way to his hairline. “I don’t…understand.”

Spider-Man had the soft, innocent face of a child. It was the kind of face grandmas couldn’t resist pinching and puppies just had to lick. His hair was a wild mess of brown curls that was sticking up all funny because of how long he’d been wearing his mask. He severely lacked the sharp, signature features that defined man from boy. Hell, he even had acne: tiny constellations of it dotted across his chin and forehead. No way was he considered a legal adult by the state of New York yet.

Spider-Man was no man at all. Spider-Man was, in fact, a Spider-Kid.

Otto lifted his eyes to the others. He didn’t know what to say.

“It’s not him,” Scorpion suggested.

Sandman scoffed. “What do you mean, ‘it’s not him’?”

“Maybe this isn’t Spider-Man,” he said. “Maybe the real Spider-Man sent a double. Someone to stand in his place while he’s busy or whatever to keep us at bay.”

“Spider-Man’s despicable if he’s sending some kid to fight his battles for him. Doesn’t sound like his style.”

“I don’t know! I’m just brainstorming here! I mean, you saw how pathetic he was today. Spider-Man normally puts up a better fight than that.”

“Yeah,” Electro said nervously. “Maybe it’s not him.”

“He was sticking to things and shooting webs and mouthing off just like the real Spider-Man always does,” Shocker retorted. “I’m pretty sure this is him.”

“Silence!” Octavius shouted, holding up his fist. He turned to the large screen on his right. “Computer, run biological and forensic diagnostics on Spider-Man.”

A series of beams and lasers scanned across the hero, gathering and analyzing information. About a minute later, a robotic voice spoke up.

“Facial and DNA match confirmed,” the A.I. replied. “Subject is Peter Benjamin Parker. Born to parents Richard and Mary Parker on August 10th, 2001. Age: fifteen. Address: 42-42 80th St, Queens, NY 11373. Current occupation: Intern at Stark Industries and sophomore high school student at Midtown School of Science and Technology.”

Stinging disbelief pricked all of them. Rhino’s jaw fell.

“Fifteen?”

“Sophomore?”

“High school?”

It was strange to finally be able to put a name and face to someone they had all known only as a masked caricature for so long. Peter Parker. Peter. And yet, the face still had everyone reeling to the point that the name hardly registered. Otto slammed a metal arm against the table.

“Shut up, all of you!” he spat. “Computer, relay back all the biological data you’ve gathered on Spider-Man.”

“Confirmed,” the A.I. said. “Subject’s current heart rate is 52 bpm. Subject’s current blood pressure is the 79mmHg. Subject’s current temperature is 105.8 degrees Fahrenheit.”

“None of those sound normal,” Sandman said with a snort.

“Relay DNA findings,” Doc Oc barked impatiently.

“Confirmed. Subject’s DNA is mutated and abnormal. Subject’s blood emits low levels of gamma radiation. Subject’s genome is human combined with an unidentifiable species of arachnid.”

Everyone’s eyes snapped up at once. The realization drizzled over them like baleful mist.

“Oh my god,” Sandman breathed. “It’s him.”

“You mean he’s actually part spider? Gag!”

With a scoff, Electro stepped away from the table, cupping his hands against the back of his neck. “You’re kidding me. You’re shitting me. You’re telling me this is the person I’ve been trying to kill this whole time? This is the guy I’ve been frying like a mozzarella stick?” He kicked a trash bin across the room. “Dammit! I do a lot of bad things, but I’d never knowingly hurt a child!”

“Spider-Man is just some fifteen-year-old high school brat?” Rhino said, pouting his lip. “Geez. I can’t believe we just beat the shit out of some kid.”

“Spider-Man is not just some kid!” Otto roared. “Who cares about his age! Have you all suddenly forgotten how much this bastard has antagonized every last one of us? How he’s foiled our plans and ruined our lives again and again for the past two years?”

Sandman pressed the heels of his hands to his temples. “Oh my god. Does that mean I’ve been beating him up since he was fourteen? My niece is three years older than him, and I can’t imagine putting her through what I’ve done to him!” He squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head. “What kind of monster am I...?”

“I broke his damn leg,” Shocker said distraughtly. “And I enjoyed it.”

“Hell, guys…this is so messed up…”

Five members of the Sinister Six stewed in a sauna of shame and guilt. Octavius refused to join them.

“You spineless morons! All of you! Our enemy lays defeated in front of us, yet you choose to wallow in remorse! We should be celebrating! Nothing has changed! He’s young—so what? That doesn’t undermine all the frustration he’s caused us, or our glorious victory over him! Come on, now! Raise your glasses with me! To the Sinister Six! Guys...?”

Nothing he said could wipe the queasy looks off all their faces, or the guilty stickiness he felt in his own gut. Everything—all of this—it just felt wrong.

Sandman stood over Spider-Man and gingerly placed his hand against his forehead. It was startlingly hot and damp with sweat. “Computer, why is Spider-Man’s temperature so damn high? What’s the cause?”

A couple seconds later, the A.I. pinged. “Confirmed,” it said. “Subject has a norovirus infection. It appears subject has been infected for at least twenty-four hours. Norovirus is commonly diagnosed as gastroenteritis or the stomach flu. Symptoms include fever, cramps, dizziness, lightheadedness, and nausea.”

A groan swept through the room. Scorpion crossed his arms against the table and buried his head between them.

“He’s sick. That’s why he seemed so sluggish and off during the fight. Because we were beating up a sick kid.”

“Shit. Last time I had the stomach flu, I didn’t leave my bed for two days. He really thought he could take us on in his condition?”

“Not like we really gave him a choice,” Shocker murmured.

“The little punk probably didn’t even think twice about it,” Sandman said miserably. “After all, his dumbass adolescent brain is still developing.”

Rhino sulked. “Yeah, as long as we didn’t permanently damage it...”

The Sinister Six fell into a dreadful silence.  

At that moment, Spider-Man coughed. The group jumped and gasped, automatically assuming defensive positions with their fists raised, weapons drawn, and muscles coiled.

Spider-Man coughed again, his head lolling to the left, but he didn’t wake up. A collective sigh passed everyone’s lips. Electro went lax, his hands falling to his sides.

“So…um…what the hell do we do now?”

Scorpion frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

“Like, what do we do? We have him here, beat to a pulp. What are we going to do with him?”

For the first time, Spider-Man was at the complete mercy of his most powerful enemies. And for the first time, none of them wanted to chop off his head and impale it on a spike. 

Sandman gazed across the bruises on his face, the road burn striped across his limbs, the bloody puncture wound in his chest. His swollen leg, his black eye, the charred fabric and flesh. He hadn’t allowed himself to take all the damage in for what it was until now. A truly abominable and grisly sight.

“He won’t survive long if we just leave him like this,” he said quietly.

Again, all eyes rose to Dr. Octopus. Otto grimaced between their pitiful looks, their reluctantly pleading stares. Pathetic! he wanted to shout, but he couldn’t find the will to conjure the word—any words.

Soon enough, he felt his own callous facade melting away. He sighed.

“I…I suppose keeping him alive is in our best interest. For now.” He cleared his throat and pulled the goggles off his face. “I’ll clean and treat his injuries as best I can. At least to the point that they’re not life-threatening.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Go—get some rest, all of you. We’ll, uh—we’ll regroup in the morning.”

The Sinister Six exchanged nervous looks with each other, then turned back to the face of the half-dead fifteen-year-old in front of them. Hesitantly, they filed out of the room and up the stairs, shooting a couple anxious glances over their shoulders before climbing out of sight.

The room was eerily quiet now that it was just the two of them. An evil scientist and an unconscious super-child in spandex. The only noises were the beeps from the monitor on his right and the kid’s shaky, labored breathing.

“You’re really something, you know that?” Octavius scoffed. “Of course, now that we’ve finally bested you, this is what we end up with. This is what you are.”

With a thought, the claws at the end of one of his tentacles reconfigured into large shears. The material that made up Spider-Man’s suit was tough, but with a few strategic cuts and snips, Doc was able to tear through and peel the clingy fabric off his body. Now that he was stripped down to nothing but his boxers (which had tiny cartoon Iron Men on them, a sight that made him snort, despite his efforts not to) the devastating harm they’d inflicted upon him was painfully evident. The ratio of undamaged flesh to damaged flesh was sickeningly skewed toward the latter. There was so much to tend to, he wasn’t sure where to start. And it wasn’t like his doctorate had been in medical care.

“We really did a number on you, didn’t we Spider-Man?” Otto murmured. He looked back at the screen. “I mean…Peter. Peter Parker.”

The name felt salty on his tongue. He didn’t like how it humanized him, transforming the famous vigilante from vexing public figure to baby-faced teenager. He’d always dreamt of unmasking the scourge that was the elusive Spider-Man. Now he wished the day had never come.

He left Peter’s side to grab the medical kit from under the sink. Then he got to work, undoing the damage they had reaped.

___________________________________

“Computer, summarize what you’ve gathered on Peter Parker’s personal life.”

Roughly four hours later, Octavius flopped into a chair by the kid’s side, exhausted. He had treated all the wounds he had the capacity to treat, hooked him to an I.V. full of fluids and electrolytes, and was now monitoring his steadily improving vitals. The kid was a suture-filled, burn cream-lathered, bandaged-up mess, but at least he was on the mend instead of his death bed. Seemed like a good time to take a break and do some research on the person behind their friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

“Confirmed,” the A.I. responded. “Compiling personal file.”

A slide with pictures and lists regarding Peter’s life materialized on the screen.

“Peter Parker was born in Queens, New York and still lives there today. He lived in a house in Forest Hills until 2005, then moved into the apartment complex he currently lives in now.”

“A house in New York City?” Otto scoffed. “How lavish. Why the downsize?”

The A.I. enlarged a photograph—a man and a woman holding a bright-eyed, squishy-faced toddler sporting a familiar headful of brown curls.

“Peter’s biological parents, Mary and Richard Parker, died in a plane crash in March of that year.”

A knot formed in Otto’s gut as he stared at the happy family portrait. “Oh,” he said.

“Orphaned at age four, Peter was then adopted by his aunt and uncle, May and Ben Parker. They couldn’t afford to live in the house in Forest Hills, so they moved Peter into their apartment nearby.”

Another picture floated up, this one of a different couple hugging a slightly older version of the curly-haired toddler. After that, a series of images flashed across the screen—young Peter at Central Park, at a science fair, at the zoo, at home, on the subway, on the Brooklyn Bridge, passed out on a couch. With each new picture, he got bigger, older, but not by much. Sometimes his aunt and uncle were with him. Sometimes he was with others his age. Sometimes he had on glasses as thick as windshields. His smile was wide as the sun and just as bright.

In the last picture, he was standing next to Tony Stark, holding an upside-down certificate congratulating him on his acceptance as a Stark Industry’s intern.

“Barf,” Otto muttered, but he couldn’t displace the warm, uneasy feeling he got when he looked at Peter’s smiling face. He really was just a kid. A young, dorky, stupid kid. A kid they’d beat into the dirt ten times over.

“Last year, May Parker became Peter’s sole guardian.”

Octavius blinked, his shoulders tensing. “What happened to the uncle? Ben Parker?”

“Ben Parker was murdered last April by an unknown shooter. The culprit was never caught.”

Octavius swallowed, staring at the photograph of Spider-Man’s uncle. Then he turned back to the mummified teenager on the table beside him. For an instant, something he never thought he could feel for the spider-themed superhero brushed his heart. 

Sympathy.

With a huff, Otto stood from his chair. “Come along then, arachnid,” he said, lifting the kid and the I.V. stand in his metal arms. “Let’s find you a more comfortable spot to rest.”

It was well past 4am by the time Octavius slumped into his own bed.

[thefloorisbalaclava]

let the angry word be answered only with a kiss

pairing: ezra x f!reader

warnings: talk of killing someone, SMUT - oral (f receiving), spitting, slight choking

a/n: so there’s obviously more than a kiss but i love the quote lol

You smile as you hear the door to the pod open, but it quickly fades when you see Ezra’s face. He usually smiles as soon as he sees you, but there was no smile, not even a hint of one as he made his way inside. There is no warm greeting or sweet kiss. Nothing. He throws his helmet down, making you jump.

“Ezra...”

He holds up his hand and shakes his head. “I would rather you not ask how today was or what occurred.”

“I just wanna help,” you offer but he shakes his head again. “Fine.” You turn away from him and go back to what you were working on, mumbling under your breath the whole time.

“Please speak your mind clearly, dove.”

“No. Not when you can’t even show me the same respect.” You turn your head slightly as you speak.

“I’ve already had the day from hell,” he sighs, “I do not need my night to follow the same path.”

“Then leave,” you snap. “If me wanting to know how your day was or trying to help you bothers you so much...leave.” You shrug without looking at him.

“I have never heard you quite so blunt before.”

“Fuck off. How’s that for blunt?” You can hear him stop moving behind you.

“Now, dove...”

“Don’t call me that, not when I’m mad at you.” You stop working and just sit there. You want to look at him but stop yourself.

“You’re behaving like an insolent child and I simply do not have the patience for it.”

You finally turn and look at him with a look of exasperation. “Me? Insolent? You’re the one who stomped in here, throwing stuff around like you were having a tantrum. I believe you’re the child in this case, Ezra.”

“Come here,” he says, putting his hands on his hips.

“Absolutely not.”

“I will not repeat myself.” He stares you down and you do the same back. It’s a tense standoff but you refuse to move. He takes the rest of his gear off and you lower your eyes. As he makes his way over to where you’re sitting, you meet his eye again, glaring. He puts his hands on the arm rests of your chair and leans in close. “Do you take pleasure in making me angry?” he asks, his breathing fanning against your face.

“I take pleasure in many things, Ezra.” You tilt your head and smile before rolling your eyes and frowning. When you try to turn the chair away, he won’t let you, tightening his grip.

He tsks and stands up straight, his crotch now at your eye level. You turn your head away, but he grabs your face and turns it back to him. He bares his teeth in an attempt to scare you, but you smile innocently and slap his hand away.

“You don’t scare me,” you tell him. In fact, he is turning you on, but you aren’t saying that out loud. “We’ve been together too long for anything you do to surprise or scare me anymore. You forget I know you very well. If you want to fuck me just say so.”

“I’m afraid if I do, I will not be gentle,” he says, touching your face. He pays special attention to your lips.

“I don’t recall asking you to be.” You open your mouth slightly, letting him slip two fingers inside. He sighs as he moves his fingers in and out of your mouth slowly.

“This mouth of yours...is a wonderful thing to behold as is all of you.” He slips his fingers out and palms himself through his underwear.

“Are you going to tell me what happened today?” you ask as he pulls you to your feet.

“I will, but first I need you to disrobe...or I will do it for you.”

“Oh, how tempting,” you say playfully as you begin to undress. His eyes stay on you, trailing over every inch of exposed skin. He bites his lip as you let your underwear fall to the floor and step out of them. You stand there quietly as he surveys you, walking around you, touching you every now and then. When he’s in front of you again, he drops to his knees.

“Would you please place your foot on the chair?” he asks ever so nicely. You lift your leg and do as you’re told, exposing yourself to him even more. “What occurred today...” he starts, moving your leg a little more. He seems to get lost in thought as he realizes just how ready you are for him. “I had no choice. I did what had to be done.” You have no idea what he’s getting at but you’re far too distracted by the way he spits on two fingers to care. “I am aware that you are far more than prepared for me but...” He shrugs and slides his spit-slick fingers against your clit. You gasp as you look down and watch the way he moves his fingers on you. He’s so focused.

“Mmm...fuck...well, what happened?” you ask, not sure if you actually even care anymore.

He only shakes his head and grins. “What a beautiful sound it makes,” he breathes, moving his fingers up and down your slit faster. “Thank Kevva for letting me keep one my hands.”

Your legs shook as you fought to stay upright. “Ezra...I can’t stay like this.”

“You will do so until I feel you come undone around my fingers.” He slips them inside of you and you cry out, your knee buckling. The smile on his face tells you he’s enjoying this a little too much. You throw your head back, missing the way he moves his face closer to taste you. When his tongue grazes your clit you immediately find his hair and pull.

“I can’t...I can’t...” You try not to look down because you know it will be the end of you, but you do anyway and meet Ezra’s gaze. Even with his face practically buried between your legs, you know he’s smiling. The little wink he gives you is a dead giveaway. “Oh, fuck you, Ezra,” you moan. “Fuck. You.”

“You are so very close, dove. Do not hold back.” He pumps his fingers in and out of you faster and moves his tongue against you at the same pace. It’s not long before you’re screaming his name and seeing stars, forgetting everything that happened before this. He keeps flicking his tongue against your clit until you finally have to pull him away by his hair.

“Too much...” you breathe.

“I’ve only just begun.” Ezra stands and kisses you, not even bothering to wipe himself clean first. “I have tasted many things in my life, dove, but nothing as delectable as you.” To emphasize his point, he slips the fingers he had inside you into your mouth. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Mhmm.” You nod as he takes his fingers away.

“Would you be so kind as to get onto the bed for me?” he asks and you climb onto the small bed, lying down on your back. Ezra looks down at you, admiring you for a moment before speaking again. “As much as I do enjoy seeing you this way, I would like to see you on all fours tonight, dove.”

“Oh.” You turn over and get into position. He stands over you, turning your head up to kiss you softly.

“I must ask: do you still find yourself cross with me?” He walks around, dragging his hand down your body as he does before climbing onto the bed behind you.

“A little,” you confess.

“Is that so?” His voice is lower, raspier. You feel some movement behind you then something pushes against your entrance.

“You still haven’t told me what happened.” You push back against him but he slaps your ass, making you jump.

“Patience is a virtue.” He groans as he drags his hand over your ass then squeezes one cheek, spreading it. He lets go eventually and you hear him spit. You didn’t feel it so he must have spit onto his hand again.

“Ezra…please…” No sooner had you said it than you feel him pushing into you. “Oh fuck…” you gasp.

“You are a fucking dream,” he groans. He didn’t curse much but when he did it was the sexiest thing you ever heard. Especially since he’s praising you. “Today,” he began as he thrust slowly, “I came upon another harvester.” He grunts as he thrusts into you particularly hard.

“Yeah.” You turn your head to look at him.

“He, uh…he happened to encroach on my area and…” He squeezes his eyes shut then opens them to look down at the way he moves in and out of you. His thrusts become rougher as he continues. You grasp the sheets beneath you, trying to keep yourself steady but eventually your arms give out and you’re face down. He holds you down at the center of your back, making you arch in a way that has him hitting the right spot over and over again.

“Ez…ra!” You can’t say much more than that. He’s found a brutal yet amazing pace and your mouth drops open in a silent scream.

“I was a gentleman. I tried to reason with him but he…would not…listen!” He slams into you, reliving his anger. Suddenly, he pulls you up against him, your back against his chest, as he thrusts wildly. He presses his mouth to your ear. “Would you like to know what occurred next?” You nod but he moves his hand up to your throat. “You must articulate, dove.”

“Yes, I would like to know what happened,” you cry as his hand at your throat tightens.

“I killed him and watched the light leave his eyes,” he grunts, moving his hand down between your legs. “I did what had to be done.” He bites down on your shoulder as he plays with you, bringing you to the edge and beyond. “The very hand that brings you such pleasure can also bring pain.”

“I know,” you moan. You know he’d never hurt you, as for others it depended on how they treated and presented themselves to him. Ezra never claims to be a good man and you’d never have him pretend he is one.

“Yet you still love me,” he says in your ear, “Don’t you?”

“Yes Ezra.” He continues touching you until he feels you coming undone. “I’m gonna cum,” you whimper.

“Yes, I can feel you.” He grunts as your walls squeeze him. You go limp in his grip and he moves his hand from between your legs up to your throat again, squeezing just right. With a few more thrusts and the sounds you make from overstimulation, he finishes, biting your shoulder again and growling lowly. He stays inside you even as he carefully lowers you to the bed. Sometimes he would stay inside you until he got hard again. You wonder if tonight would be one of those times.

“Are you okay?” you ask as he holds you close.

“I must say I am doing splendidly. My compliments to you.” His voice sounds happy and it makes you smile. “I do apologize for the way I expressed myself when I returned earlier.”

“I’m sorry too. I hope you know I’d never really want you to leave.”

“Kevva knows I could not fathom my life without you.” He turns your head so he can kiss you and you feel him stir within you but he looks tired so you doubt he’d want to do anything more tonight.

“I love you, Ezra.”

He smiles sleepily, letting his head fall against the pillow. “And I, you.”