#Windows Hello exploit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ellswritings · 6 months ago

Text

Sparks Fly

Steve Rogers x Reader

TW: Enemies to lovers, Steve and reader are both jerks to each other, Tony being a little shit, spicy near the end but no smut.

»» ──────ஓ๑♥๑ஓ ────── ««

The briefing room in the Avengers Tower was already buzzing with conversation as Nick Fury strode in, trailed by a woman none of them had ever seen before. Tony Stark, as always, leaned back in his chair, sipping on a cappuccino with a casual smirk on his face. Natasha sat next to him, calmly tapping her fingers against the table, while Thor’s deep voice carried through the room as he recounted one of his many Asgardian exploits to Bruce Banner. Steve Rogers, Captain America himself, stood near the window, arms crossed, his gaze drifting toward the city skyline.

Fury cleared his throat, immediately silencing the room. "Team, meet Y/N L/N," he announced, stepping aside to reveal the woman standing beside him.

Her presence was palpable. She exuded confidence, her posture straight and assured, with an unmistakable glint of sharpness in her eyes. Energy seemed to hum faintly around her, like static electricity that hadn’t quite dissipated.

Y/N stepped forward, her gaze sweeping over the room with measured scrutiny. "Nice to meet you all," she said, her tone steady but not overly warm. Her eyes lingered briefly on each Avenger as Fury continued the introduction.

"Y/N is a new addition to the team," Fury explained. "She’s got experience in covert ops, but what makes her stand out is her ability to manipulate energy—plasma, electricity, heat. I’ve worked with her in the past, and she’s someone you’ll want on your side when things go south."

Tony raised an eyebrow, his interest clearly piqued. "Energy manipulation, huh? That's gotta come in handy at parties," he quipped, already leaning forward with that trademark grin of his.

Y/N’s lips curved into a smirk, meeting Tony’s challenge head-on. "I could fry your circuits in a second, Stark. But I’ll save that for when I really need to shut you up."

Tony’s grin widened as he leaned back in his chair, clearly delighted by her response. "Oh, I like her already. It’s about time someone besides Pepper was capable of shutting me down."

Natasha gave Y/N an approving nod. "Looks like Fury didn’t just bring you here for your powers. You’re quick."

Y/N chuckled, a sharp, low sound that made Bruce smile faintly from his corner. Even Thor seemed intrigued, murmuring something about the strength of Midgardian women.

But when Y/N’s eyes landed on Steve, who still stood apart from the group, her demeanor shifted ever so slightly. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t smiled, hadn’t said anything to acknowledge her presence, his jaw clenched tight.

Fury, ever the perceptive one, noticed the undercurrent and turned toward Steve. "Rogers, you gonna say hello?"

Steve straightened, walking over with that stoic air he always carried. His blue eyes flicked over Y/N with an unreadable expression. "Welcome to the team," he said, his voice polite but distant, as if her arrival was nothing more than a minor formality.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by the half-hearted greeting. "Don’t sound too enthusiastic, Cap," she shot back, her tone laced with playful sarcasm, the corner of her mouth quirking up.

Tony let out a loud laugh, earning a playful elbow from Natasha.

But Steve remained stoic, his expression unmoving. "Let’s just hope you’re as good as Fury says," he replied, his tone clipped, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Y/N’s smirk widened, but there was something colder in it now, a challenge flickering behind her eyes. "Trust me, Rogers, I won’t slow you down."

The tension in the room was palpable. The rest of the team exchanged glances, picking up on the brewing undercurrent between the two.

Tony, always the instigator, nudged Natasha with a smirk. "This is gonna be fun."

Y/N took a step back, folding her arms as she addressed the rest of the team. "So, what's the usual around here? Stark throwing more one-liners than punches? Or does everyone else get a turn?"

Natasha chuckled under her breath. "He’s definitely an equal-opportunity quipster. You'll get your turn."

Y/N raised an eyebrow at Tony. "Is that right?"

Tony shrugged, all amusement. "I like to think of it as part of my charm. Keeps the team morale up."

Y/N rolled her eyes, her tone teasing. "Right. 'Morale.' Must be tough for everyone else to keep up."

Bruce snorted softly from his seat, barely managing to suppress a laugh. "You’ve got no idea."

Thor gave a booming laugh, as though the banter between them were the most entertaining thing he’d heard all day. "Truly, Stark's tongue wields more fire than most weapons."

Y/N smiled, enjoying the back-and-forth. It felt like she was starting to find her rhythm with them—most of them, at least. But out of the corner of her eye, she saw Steve watching her, his expression stony, arms still crossed. His silence was louder than anything Tony or Natasha had said, and it grated on her.

She locked eyes with him, folding her arms as she spoke again. "You don’t like people much, do you, Rogers?"

The question was sharp, and the room went a little quieter as everyone’s gaze flicked toward Steve.

Steve’s jaw tightened. "I like people just fine."

Y/N hummed thoughtfully, tilting her head. "You sure about that? You’ve barely said two words to me. Starting to think you don’t approve."

Tony leaned in, thoroughly entertained. "Careful, Capsicle. She's got you pegged already."

Steve’s eyes flickered to Tony, then back to Y/N. "I don’t need to approve. I just need to know you can do your job without putting the team at risk."

Y/N’s smile froze, her posture stiffening slightly. "I’ve been doing this for a long time, Rogers. I don’t need you to babysit me."

Steve didn’t back down, his gaze unwavering. "I’m not interested in babysitting anyone. I’m interested in keeping my team safe."

The words hung in the air like a heavy cloud, the tension thick enough to cut through. The rest of the team looked from Y/N to Steve, unsure of where this sudden hostility was coming from.

Natasha, ever the diplomat, broke the silence with a raised eyebrow. "Is this gonna be a thing?"

Y/N shook her head, exhaling slowly as she forced a smile. "Nope. No thing here. Just Rogers and I... finding our rhythm, I guess."

Steve didn't respond, his expression hard, but Tony couldn’t resist the urge to lighten the mood. "Oh, there’s definitely a thing here. This much tension could fuel my arc reactor for a week."

Natasha smirked, while Thor chuckled deeply. Bruce, however, shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly not enjoying the rising tension.

Y/N turned back toward Fury, trying to push the interaction with Steve aside. "So, what's the mission?"

Fury glanced between Y/N and Steve, his expression unreadable, though he certainly wasn’t oblivious to the friction. "We'll go over the details soon. For now, you’re getting acquainted. I trust you can handle that."

Y/N gave a nod, though the corner of her eye remained fixed on Steve, whose stony silence still irked her. Why was he being so difficult? It wasn't like she’d come in guns blazing. Well, maybe a little attitude, but nothing she hadn’t done with any other team.

As the team began to disperse, Tony, Natasha, and Bruce began chatting amongst themselves, but Y/N lingered near the door, her mind racing. She hadn't expected her introduction to go this way—especially not with Captain America.

Natasha approached her, raising an eyebrow as she glanced back toward Steve. "Don’t take it personally. Steve's a bit... cautious when it comes to new team members."

Y/N snorted softly, leaning against the doorframe. "Yeah, I noticed. Guess I’m just gonna have to prove him wrong."

Natasha smiled faintly. "Just give it time. He’ll come around. He always does."

Y/N tilted her head, looking over at Steve, who was now talking quietly with Fury on the other side of the room. "I’m not the most patient person."

Natasha laughed softly. "Neither is he. Should be interesting to watch."

In the following days, Y/N integrated into the team—well, most of it. Tony, as expected, took an immediate liking to her sarcastic sense of humor, and even Bruce opened up more around her. Natasha and Y/N trained together, and Thor respected her power and confidence, even suggesting that she spar with him one day to "test her strength."

The only hiccup in the team dynamic was Steve.

Their arguments became a regular occurrence. Whether it was during training sessions, tactical meetings, or even casual conversations, Y/N and Steve couldn’t seem to get through a day without butting heads. The rest of the team watched their interactions with bemusement, Tony and Natasha often making side bets on how long it would take before one of them snapped.

One day, during a mission debrief, Steve and Y/N clashed yet again, this time over strategy. Steve favored a more cautious, methodical approach, while Y/N argued for a direct strike, using her powers to neutralize the threat quickly.

"You don’t get it," Y/N snapped. "We don’t have time to play it safe. HYDRA’s not going to wait around for us to make the perfect move, Rogers."

Steve’s eyes narrowed, his voice clipped. "I’m not playing it safe. I’m making sure no one gets killed because of a reckless move."

"Reckless?" Y/N’s voice rose. "I’ve been in more of these situations than I can count, and I know when to strike fast. If we sit around and plan every detail, people die."

The rest of the team sat in silence, watching the heated exchange. Tony leaned over to Natasha, whispering, "I give it two more minutes before one of them explodes."

Natasha smirked. "I’m betting on Y/N. She looks like she’s ready to throw something."

Steve crossed his arms, his jaw clenched. "This isn’t about how many missions you’ve been on. It’s about working as a team. You can’t just go rogue whenever you feel like it."

Y/N scoffed, stepping closer to him. "I’m not going rogue. I’m making the call that’ll save lives. You can either get on board or get out of my way."

The tension was thick, and for a moment, it seemed like Y/N and Steve might actually come to blows. Y/N’s eyes flashed with that same energy she controlled, and Steve stood rigid, unflinching, his eyes locked on hers.

Tony raised an eyebrow at Bruce. "Think we should step in, or…?"

Bruce shook his head. "I think they need to get this out of their system."

Fury, who had been watching the entire exchange with a neutral expression, finally stepped in. "Enough," he said, his voice firm. "You two can hash out your differences later. Right now, we need to focus on the mission. Rogers, L/N’s got a point. Time isn’t on our side."

Steve clenched his fists, but he nodded, stepping back, though his gaze remained fixed on Y/N. "Fine. But we do this as a team."

Y/N held his gaze for a moment longer before she finally nodded, though her jaw was still tight. "Fine."

Fury gave them both a stern look before continuing the debrief. But the air in the room remained tense, and it was clear to everyone that Y/N and Steve weren’t done with their argument.

Later that night, as the team prepared for the mission, Y/N found herself partnered with Steve. Much to her frustration, Fury had insisted they work together on this one, despite the obvious tension between them. She wasn’t thrilled about it, and judging by the look on Steve’s face, neither was he.

They moved through the HYDRA base in silence, their communication reduced to clipped, professional exchanges. Y/N used her powers to disrupt security systems, her hands crackling with energy as she sent short bursts of electricity to fry the cameras and alarms. Steve moved ahead, leading the way with his shield in hand.

"Left corridor is clear," Steve said quietly, his voice coming through her comm.

"Roger that, Captain," Y/N replied, her tone laced with sarcasm despite herself.

Steve shot her a look, but he didn’t respond, opting to focus on the mission. As they moved deeper into the base, Y/N couldn’t help but feel the weight of his disapproval, like a constant presence at the back of her mind.

She hated it.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed from down the hall. HYDRA agents. A lot of them. Without thinking, Y/N raised her hand, preparing to send a pulse of energy toward them.

"Wait," Steve hissed, grabbing her wrist. "We can’t just—"

Before he could finish, one of the agents fired a shot, aiming directly for Steve’s head. Without hesitating, Y/N yanked her wrist free from his grip and sent a wave of energy crashing into the HYDRA agents, knocking them all back like rag dolls.

The hall was silent again, the agents down. Y/N turned to Steve, her heart racing, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

"You’re welcome," she snapped, her voice edged with frustration.

Steve glared at her, his blue eyes flashing with anger. "I had it under control."

Y/N let out a bitter laugh. "You had a bullet heading for your head, Rogers."

"I don’t need you to save me," he shot back, his voice low and angry.

"Could’ve fooled me," Y/N muttered, pushing past him as she continued down the corridor.

Steve followed her, clearly not ready to let it go. "You keep rushing in without thinking. One of these days, you’re going to get someone killed."

Y/N spun around, her eyes blazing with energy. "I’m not the one who nearly got my head blown off because I wanted to play it safe!"

They stood toe-to-toe, both breathing hard, the tension between them palpable. For a moment, it seemed like they might start arguing again, but instead, something else crackled in the air between them.

Y/N’s gaze flickered to Steve’s lips for a split second before she snapped her eyes back to his. She saw his eyes do the same.

Neither of them moved for what felt like an eternity.

Then, before either of them could think better of it, they were kissing.

It wasn’t gentle. It was heated, desperate, full of all the anger and frustration they’d been holding back. Y/N’s hands gripped the front of Steve’s uniform, pulling him closer, while his hands settled on her waist, holding her tightly.

For a few moments, the world around them faded away, and it was just them—no mission, no team, no arguments. Just the two of them, caught in the heat of the moment.

In a fury of teeth and heavy pants, Steve quickly swoops her up in his arms, Y/N instinctively wrapping her legs around his waist. He shoves her roughly into the wall causing a low whine to escape her lips. Steve growls lowly at the sound before nipping along her neck to invoke a similar sound. Y/N digs her fingers into Steve’s scalp, lightly pulling at the hairs there.

He returns to her lips and she wastes no time in nipping at the plush skin. He groans as she pushes herself further into him. Even in such a heated situation, they still happen to compete with each other, find something to beat the other at.

When they finally pulled apart, both breathing heavily, they stared at each other, eyes wide with the realization of what had just happened.

Steve was the first to speak, his voice hoarse. "This… doesn’t change anything."

Y/N smirked, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. "Wouldn’t dream of it."

Without another word, they continued down the corridor, but the tension between them had shifted. There was still fire there, but it wasn’t just anger anymore.

Tony's voice crackled over the comms. "Everything okay over there, lovebirds? Thought I’d check in, seeing as it’s been awfully quiet."

Y/N rolled her eyes, glancing at Steve, who looked just as irritated. "We’re fine, Stark."

"Good to know," Tony replied, a grin evident in his voice. "Because I’ve got five bucks that says Cap’s blushing right now."

Y/N bit back a laugh as Steve muttered something under his breath.

"Oh yeah," Tony added, "this is definitely gonna be fun."

After the mission, Y/N and Steve continued to bicker, but there was a new layer to their interactions—something unspoken but undeniably present. The team noticed it too, especially Tony, who never missed an opportunity to comment on the "undeniable chemistry" between them.

Natasha, however, was the only one who approached Y/N about it.

"You and Steve," she said one day during training. "It’s… interesting."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Interesting?"

Natasha smirked. "Let’s just say, I’ve seen this kind of tension before. It usually leads to something."

Y/N didn’t respond right away, wiping sweat from her forehead as she caught her breath. "You think it’s that obvious?"

Natasha shrugged. "Obvious to the people who know how to look."

Y/N glanced toward Steve, who was across the training room, sparring with Thor. He caught her eye for just a moment, and she quickly looked away, feeling her heart race again.

"Great," Y/N muttered under her breath. "Just what I need."

Natasha chuckled. "You’ll figure it out. Or you’ll just keep fighting until one of you gives in."

Y/N sighed. "Something tells me it’s gonna be a lot of fighting."

Natasha patted her on the shoulder, her smile amused. "Just don’t let Tony see you slip. He’s got money on this."

Y/N groaned. "Of course he does."

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #marvel #tony stark #steve rogers imagine #natasha romanoff #chris evans #thor odinson #bruce banner #nick fury #the avengers #enemies to lovers

113 notes · View notes

amethystarachnid · 5 months ago

Note

Hello. I’d like to request a Loki x Fem!Reader. Not sure if you’ve seen Step Up 3 but the song Bust Your Windows by Jazmine Sullivan was played and basically in the scene the two love interests did a tango (I would look it up for reference 🩷). So maybe Loki and Reader are on an undercover mission and they get tied into a tango. You can interpret it however you want but I’ve had this ask stuck in my head for a while now. Hope you like this! 🩷🩷

BOUND BY DUTY

⤷ LOKY LAUFEYSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff, flirty

ᯓ★ Requests status: open

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Summary: Loki has been called form the S.H.I.E.L.D. to help the Avengers with an anomaly that's happening around the world and you're assigned to be his handler. You were told to not trust him but what if under that mask of indifference there's a man just wishing to be loved?

ᯓ★ Word count: 9.7k

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing I think, just a few hated kisses and flirty comments

ᯓ★ I haven't seen the movie but I've seen the scene on YouTube (like just the 3 minutes ? scene) and really hop you'll like the story

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The air inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. compound feels heavier than usual. It could be the weight of the mission ahead or the fact that the one person who might hold the answers is a literal god—a god of mischief, no less. You’ve been briefed on Loki’s recent exploits, his failed conquest of Earth, and his punishment in Asgard’s dungeons. You know better than to trust him, but you also know that sometimes the devil you know is preferable to the devil you don’t.

Nick Fury has chosen you, of all people, to act as Loki’s handler. You don’t know whether to feel honored or utterly cursed. He claims it’s because of your “unflinching professionalism” and “ability to handle high-pressure situations.” You suspect it’s because most of your colleagues would rather face a firing squad than deal with Loki’s silver tongue.

The sound of the jet door opening draws your attention. You straighten your back and smooth your jacket as two Asgardian guards march down the ramp, their armor gleaming even under the dim hangar lights. Between them walks Loki, his wrists bound in glowing cuffs that hum faintly with suppressed power. He’s wearing his usual dark green attire, though the horned helmet is missing. Without it, his raven-black hair tumbles around his face, framing sharp cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass. His piercing blue eyes sweep the room, landing on you.

You can feel his gaze like a physical weight, appraising you. He smirks. Of course, he smirks.

“Agent,” Fury’s voice cuts through your thoughts, startling you slightly. “Take him to interrogation. The guards will brief you on his restraints.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, your voice calm and steady despite the flutter in your chest.

The Asgardian guards exchange a few words with you about Loki’s bindings. They warn you not to let your guard down—ever. You assure them you won’t, though you’re starting to realize that resisting Loki’s words might be a different kind of challenge altogether.

“Shall we?” you say, gesturing for Loki to follow you. He arches an eyebrow but complies, falling into step beside you. The guards trail behind at a respectful distance.

The walk to the interrogation room is uncomfortably silent. You’re hyper-aware of Loki’s presence beside you, his tall frame moving with a predatory grace. He doesn’t look like someone who’s been imprisoned for months; he looks like he owns the place, and you’re just a guest in his domain.

Eventually, he breaks the silence. Of course, he does.

“Tell me, Agent,” he begins, his voice smooth and lilting, “do they often send mortals to babysit gods, or am I a special case?”

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, determined not to rise to the bait. “I’m here to make sure you don’t cause any trouble. Think of me as your parole officer.”

He chuckles softly, the sound almost pleasant if you didn’t know better. “And if I were to misbehave, what then? Will you scold me? Perhaps send me to my room without supper?”

His words drip with mockery, but there’s an undercurrent of something else—amusement, maybe even intrigue. You keep your expression neutral. “If you misbehave, you’ll find out just how creative S.H.I.E.L.D. can be when it comes to disciplinary measures.”

“Promises, promises,” he murmurs, and you feel a shiver crawl up your spine at the way his eyes linger on you. You remind yourself that this is what Loki does: he gets under people’s skin, twists their emotions until they don’t know which way is up. You won’t let him succeed.

The interrogation room is as stark and clinical as you’d expect. A metal table and two chairs sit under the harsh glow of fluorescent lights. Loki looks around with mild disdain as if the room itself offends his sensibilities.

“This is where you intend to question me?” he asks, his tone dripping with derision. “How... quaint.”

You motion for him to sit. He doesn’t move immediately, instead watching you with that infuriating smirk. Finally, he lowers himself into the chair with the air of someone granting you a great favor.

The guards secure his bindings to the table before stepping back. You nod at them, and they leave, the door clicking shut behind them. Now it’s just you and Loki. You take the seat across from him, pulling out a tablet with your notes.

“We have reason to believe you have information about a recent incident involving extraterrestrial technology,” you say, your voice steady. “S.H.I.E.L.D. recovered several devices that match the energy signature of the Tesseract. We need to know where they came from.”

Loki leans back in his chair, the chains on his wrists clinking softly. “Ah, the Tesseract. Such a fascinating little trinket. Tell me, Agent, do you often meddle in matters beyond your comprehension?”

“This isn’t about me,” you reply coolly. “It’s about you. And what you know.”

He tilts his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “And what do I gain from sharing this knowledge? A lighter sentence? A pat on the head? Somehow, I doubt your superiors are feeling particularly charitable toward me.”

“We’re not asking for charity. We’re asking for cooperation. Help us, and we might consider negotiating with Asgard on your behalf.”

Loki’s laughter fills the room, sharp and cold. “Negotiate with Asgard? Oh, how delightfully naive. Do you honestly believe Odin would entertain such an offer? He’d sooner banish me to the farthest reaches of the cosmos than indulge your mortal whims.”

You suppress a sigh, already feeling the weight of this conversation. But then Loki leans forward, his gaze locking onto yours.

“Still,” he says, his voice softer now, almost teasing, “I might be persuaded to cooperate. After all, it would be such a shame to disappoint you.”

There it is again—that deliberate charm, the way he threads his words with just enough sincerity to make you second-guess yourself. You fold your arms, meeting his gaze head-on.

“You don’t intimidate me, Loki.”

“Oh, I’m not trying to intimidate you,” he says, his lips curling into a wicked smile. “Merely... entertain you. Is that not the proper term for what mortals call ‘flirting’?”

Your stomach flips, but you keep your expression neutral. “If this is your idea of flirting, I’m not impressed.”

“Hmm,” he muses, leaning back again. “Perhaps I’ve spent too long among Asgardians. We have a certain... flair for tradition. Shall I compose you a sonnet instead? Or perhaps challenge another suitor to a duel in your honor?”

Despite yourself, a small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. You quickly school your features, but not before Loki notices. His smirk widens.

“There it is,” he says, his tone triumphant. “A crack in the armor. I knew you weren’t entirely immune to my charms.”

You roll your eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. Instead, you tap a few notes into your tablet, focusing on the task at hand.

“Let’s get back to the matter at hand,” you say firmly. “Where did the devices come from?”

Loki sighs dramatically, as if the question bores him. “You mortals are so dreadfully predictable. Always demanding answers, yet never willing to pay the price for them.”

“What’s the price?”

He tilts his head, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Your name.”

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

“Your name, Agent,” he repeats, enunciating the words slowly, as if you’re a particularly dense student. “You see, it’s rather difficult to have a proper conversation when I must refer to you as simply ‘Agent.’ It’s so... impersonal.”

You hesitate. It’s not a particularly sensitive piece of information, but giving him your name feels like handing him a weapon. Still, you decide it’s a small concession if it means making progress.

“Y/N,” you say finally. “My name is Y/N.”

Loki’s smile softens, though it’s no less dangerous. “A beautiful name for a beautiful mortal. Tell me, Y/N, do all agents possess your... charm, or are you truly one of a kind?”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” you reply, though your cheeks warm slightly at the compliment. You hope the harsh lighting hides it.

“Ah, but it’s not flattery if it’s true,” he counters smoothly. “And if I may say so, you wear skepticism rather well. It suits you.”

You shake your head, fighting the urge to laugh. Loki’s flirtations are relentless, but you can’t let them distract you. You refocus on the task, determined to get the answers you need.

But as the interrogation continues, one thing becomes clear: working with Loki is going to be anything but straightforward.

The quinjet ride to Avengers Tower is suffocating in its silence. Loki sits across from you, his long legs stretched out casually as if he owns the entire aircraft. His wrists remain bound, the faint glow of the Asgardian cuffs serving as a reminder of his diminished power. But that doesn’t stop him from exuding arrogance with every calculated shift of his posture.

“Is this where I’m supposed to tremble?” he muses, his voice cutting through the quiet. “The great Avengers Tower, lair of the mighty heroes who so thoroughly bested me.” His smirk deepens. “How quaint.”

You’re seated across from him, tablet in hand, pretending to review your notes. But Loki’s presence is impossible to ignore, his every word curling around you like smoke.

“Maybe don’t insult the people who’ll be watching your every move,” you say, not looking up. “They’re already not thrilled about this arrangement.”

He tilts his head, watching you with something between amusement and curiosity. “And you, Y/N? Are you thrilled?”

“I’m doing my job.”

“Oh, but your job now entails keeping me under control, does it not?” His voice lowers, playful and conspiratorial. “Tell me, how does it feel to hold the leash of a god?”

You glance up, meeting his eyes without flinching. “It feels like babysitting a particularly arrogant toddler.”

His laughter rings out, rich and genuine, surprising you. For a moment, you think you’ve caught him off guard. But then his expression shifts back to its usual smugness, and you realize he’s thoroughly enjoying this verbal sparring.

When the quinjet lands on the rooftop pad of Avengers Tower, you rise, gesturing for Loki to follow. He does, the clinking of his cuffs echoing as he steps out into the open air. The city sprawls out below, glittering in the early evening light, but Loki barely spares it a glance. His focus remains on the tower itself, his smirk growing as he takes in the structure.

“Ah, Stark’s playground,” he says. “I trust the man himself is waiting inside, ready to deliver a string of tiresome quips?”

“Something like that,” you reply, leading him toward the elevator.

As the doors slide open, Loki steps inside with the air of a man entering his throne room. You press the button for the common floor, bracing yourself for the chaos that’s about to unfold.

The doors slide open to reveal the Avengers lounging in the common area. Tony Stark is leaning against the bar, a drink in hand, while Natasha Romanoff sharpens a knife at the table. Steve Rogers stands near the window, arms crossed, his jaw tight. Bruce Banner hovers awkwardly in the background, glancing up as you and Loki step in.

“Look who’s here!” Tony’s voice cuts through the tension, dripping with mock enthusiasm. “Reindeer Games himself. I thought Asgard had a no-returns policy.”

Loki’s lips curl into a predatory smile. “Ah, Stark. Still compensating for something, I see.”

“Alright, let’s not,” you interject quickly, stepping between them. “Loki’s here to help us, not pick a fight.”

“Help us?” Steve’s voice is cold, his gaze sharp as it settles on Loki. “That’s a generous interpretation.”

“It’s true,” you reply, keeping your tone firm. “We’ve encountered tech with energy signatures similar to the Tesseract. Loki’s the only one who might have answers.”

“Because trusting the guy who tried to enslave the planet worked out so well the first time,” Tony quips, raising his glass.

Loki chuckles softly. “It’s heartwarming to see how fondly you remember me.”

Bruce shifts uncomfortably in the corner, his eyes darting between Loki and the others. You don’t miss the tension in his posture, the way his hands twitch as if ready to retreat at a moment’s notice. Loki notices too, and for the first time since his arrival, a flicker of unease crosses his face. It’s subtle, but it’s there.

“I see the beast is still lurking,” Loki says, his voice quieter now, though the edge remains. “Tell me, Dr. Banner, does he hunger for revenge?”

Bruce flinches, his face pale. “I—I’d rather not...”

“Enough,” you cut in sharply, fixing Loki with a glare. “You’re here to cooperate, remember?”

Loki raises his hands as far as the cuffs allow, feigning innocence. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to frighten the good doctor.”

Bruce mutters something under his breath and retreats further into the room. You make a mental note to keep an eye on both him and Loki; their shared tension feels like a powder keg waiting to ignite.

After the initial round of barbs, you manage to get Loki settled in a secure room. It’s more comfortable than the dungeons of Asgard but still far from luxurious—bare walls, a simple bed, and a reinforced door with biometric locks.

“Charming,” Loki says, surveying his new accommodations. “I feel right at home.”

“Good,” you reply, leaning against the doorframe. “Now, let’s get one thing straight. If you step out of line, even once, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

He steps closer, just enough to invade your space without crossing a line. His voice drops to a low purr. “Oh, Y/N, I don’t doubt your ability to... discipline me. In fact, I almost look forward to it.”

Your cheeks flush despite yourself, but you hold your ground. “Get some rest. We’ll debrief tomorrow.”

As you turn to leave, you hear his voice again, softer this time. “Y/N?”

You pause, glancing over your shoulder. He’s watching you with an expression you can’t quite place—curiosity, perhaps, or something deeper.

“Why do you trust them with me?” he asks. “Your precious Avengers. Do you truly believe they can keep me in line?”

You meet his gaze, your own unwavering. “I don’t trust them to keep you in line. That’s my job.”

His smirk returns, but there’s something almost genuine beneath it. “Indeed, it is.”

The following day, the team gathers in the briefing room. Loki is seated at the far end of the table, his wrists still bound, though his demeanor remains as smug as ever. A holographic projection displays images of the recovered devices, their design sleek and alien.

“These were found in an abandoned Hydra facility,” you explain, gesturing to the display. “They emit the same energy signature as the Tesseract, but we have no idea what they’re for. That’s where Loki comes in.”

All eyes turn to him. He leans back in his chair, his expression unreadable.

“Convince me,” he says, his tone light but his eyes sharp. “Why should I share my insights with you?”

“Because if you don’t,” Tony says, leaning forward, “we’ll lock you in a room with Banner and see how long it takes before the Other Guy wants a rematch.”

Bruce shoots Tony a horrified look, but Loki’s smirk falters for a split second. You notice the way his fingers tighten against the edge of the table.

“Enough,” you say firmly. “We’re not resorting to threats.” You turn to Loki, your voice softening slightly. “You know what’s out there, and you know how dangerous it can be. Help us stop it. Prove you’re not the monster everyone thinks you are.”

For a moment, the room is silent. Loki’s gaze locks onto yours, something flickering in his expression—something almost vulnerable. Then, slowly, he inclines his head.

“Very well,” he says, his voice smooth once more. “Let’s see if mortals can keep up.”

As the meeting disperses, Loki lingers behind, waiting until it’s just the two of you.

“Nicely done, Y/N,” he says, his tone almost... complimentary. “You’ve mastered the art of persuasion.”

“I didn’t persuade you,” you reply. “I just told the truth.”

He steps closer, his smirk returning. “And yet, it worked. I wonder, what other truths might you use to sway me?”

You shake your head, biting back a smile. “Let’s focus on saving the world first, shall we?”

“As you wish,” he says, bowing his head slightly. But as he steps past you, his voice drops to a whisper. “Though I suspect saving me might be your true challenge.”

You watch him leave, your heart inexplicably pounding. This mission just got a lot more complicated.

The next morning, the Avengers leave in a flurry of purpose and energy, Stark’s voice echoing with instructions as they file out of the tower. It’s a rare sight—every single one of them heading into the field together. You’re left behind, tasked with monitoring Loki and keeping the tower secure.

The quiet that follows their departure is almost unnerving. You sit in the common area, flipping through a report on your tablet, when Loki saunters in. He’s unbound for now—S.H.I.E.L.D.’s restraints only used when necessary. His movements are languid, predatory, as he crosses the room with his usual air of entitlement.

“Left alone with me again, Y/N?” he drawls, leaning against the counter like he owns the place. “Should I be flattered or concerned?”

You don’t look up. “You’re always alone, Loki. I’m just here to make sure you don’t destroy anything or anyone.”

He hums thoughtfully, his sharp gaze raking over you. “I wonder, is that truly why you remain? Or do you find my company... intriguing?”

You glance at him, exasperated. “I find it tolerable. At best.”

“And yet, here you are.” His smirk widens as he steps closer, just enough to test your boundaries. “Tell me, Agent, what do you do when the others aren’t here to play their parts? Surely, you don’t spend every waking moment in this dull little tower watching me.”

“Someone has to.” You set your tablet aside and stand, trying to put some distance between the two of you. “Why don’t you make my job easier and sit quietly for once?”

“But then how would I amuse myself?” He takes another step closer, his voice lowering. “You may not admit it, but I suspect you’d miss my antics if I were to behave.”

You roll your eyes and walk toward the kitchen, feigning indifference. “Don’t flatter yourself, Loki.”

The rest of the day passes uneventfully. You keep yourself busy with monitoring systems and catching up on reports, all while Loki stays suspiciously quiet in his room. It's unusual—he’s normally a restless presence, eager to test limits.

You assume his compliance is a sign of temporary boredom. What you don’t know is that Loki is lying in his sparse room, calculating. He’s been studying the tower’s security systems, searching for a way to slip past its safeguards. Tonight might be the night, he thinks. He’s memorized the patterns, the gaps, and he knows he can vanish before the Avengers even realize he’s gone.

As the hours stretch into evening, you retire to your room, unaware of the god’s intentions. Your space is a rare sanctuary in the tower, a blend of cozy practicality and personal touches that feel distinctly you.

Loki waits until the tower falls completely silent. With a wave of his hand, he disables the monitoring device in his room. It’s a minor spell—one he’s been saving for the right moment. The cuffs are no longer a problem; he’s studied the locking mechanism enough to slip them off without much effort.

He steps into the hallway, his bare feet silent on the cool floor. For the first time in weeks, he feels a surge of freedom, the tantalizing promise of escape. He heads for the exit, his mind already planning the next steps.

But as he passes by your room, a faint sound catches his attention. The door is slightly ajar, spilling a sliver of warm light into the hall. Loki hesitates, his curiosity piqued despite himself.

He peeks inside—and what he sees makes his breath hitch.

You’re standing in front of your bed, freshly out of the shower. Your hair is damp, curling against your shoulders, and you’re wearing nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around your body. The bathroom door behind you is still open, steam curling into the air, and the glow of a bedside lamp bathes your skin in soft light.

Completely unaware of your observer, you move to the dresser, pulling it open to retrieve clothes. As you reach up, the towel slips slightly, revealing more of your shoulder and the curve of your collarbone. Loki swallows hard, a rush of heat pooling in his chest and spreading lower.

He knows he should leave—should slip away unnoticed and continue with his plan. But he doesn’t move.

There’s something captivating about this glimpse of you outside the professional walls you keep so firmly in place. You’re unguarded, human in a way he rarely sees, and it stirs something in him he doesn’t entirely understand.

He takes a step closer, his presence still undetected. The urge to say something, to tease you as he always does, bubbles up, but he suppresses it.

For once, the god of mischief is utterly silent.

You turn suddenly, as if sensing something, and his heart lurches. He retreats quickly, pressing himself against the wall just as your eyes flick toward the door.

“Hello?” you call, your voice uncertain.

Loki curses himself for his foolishness. He shouldn’t have lingered—but now that he’s seen this side of you, his desire to leave the tower has shifted. He watches as you step closer to the door, your expression wary.

He slips away, retreating to his room without a sound. Once inside, he leans against the wall, his mind racing.

The thought of escape still lingers in the back of his mind, but it no longer feels urgent. Not tonight.

Not when he knows you’re here, in the same space, entirely unaware of the effect you’ve had on him.

You find Loki in the common area, lounging on the couch as if nothing happened. His cuffs are back in place, though you notice a faint smugness in his expression, as if he knows something you don’t.

“Good morning,” he says smoothly, his tone laced with amusement.

You narrow your eyes at him. “You seem chipper today.”

“Perhaps I’ve found reason to be,” he replies, his gaze flickering over you in a way that makes your stomach flip.

You frown, brushing off the unease that his words stir. “Try not to enjoy yourself too much. You’re still under watch.”

“Of course,” he says with a slight bow of his head. “But tell me, Y/N, how did you sleep? Peacefully, I hope.”

There’s something about the way he says it—soft, teasing, with just a hint of mischief—that makes you pause.

You brush past him, refusing to let him get under your skin. But as you walk away, you can feel his eyes on you, his gaze heavy with unspoken thoughts.

And in his room later, Loki sits at the edge of his bed, the memory of you from the night before seared into his mind.

For now, his escape can wait.

The tension in the air was thick as the Avengers gathered in the briefing room, the holographic screen showing images of the upcoming gala. Tony Stark stood at the head of the table, his hands resting on the surface, eyes narrowed as he analyzed the data. Steve Rogers was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his jaw set, while Natasha Romanoff sat with a focused expression, her fingers tapping lightly on the table. Bruce Banner, still uneasy around Loki, looked at the screen, then at his colleagues, silently awaiting the inevitable question.

"Alright," Tony began, his voice cutting through the thick silence. "We've got a masked gala happening in three days. High-profile event. The criminals we're tracking are expected to make a deal there, and it's our best shot at catching them."

"But they’ll be surrounded by a lot of people," Natasha said, folding her arms. "And these are highly dangerous individuals—some with connections to Hydra. We can’t risk a full-on assault."

"I agree," Steve added, his tone serious. "If we act too soon, we’ll spook them. We need to get inside, gather intel, and only move in when we have enough to bring them down safely."

"The problem," Tony continued, tapping a button on the table to bring up a closer view of the suspects, "is that they’re too well-protected. The best way in is through someone they don’t expect. Someone like... Loki."

The room went quiet. Everyone exchanged glances, the air thick with unease. Even though Loki had been cooperating—somewhat—the trust wasn’t there. Not after what he’d done. Not after the chaos he’d tried to bring to Earth. And still, his knowledge of these kinds of circles, his ability to navigate a room and blend in with the highest of society—well, it was a skill set they couldn’t afford to ignore.

“I know what you’re all thinking,” Tony continued. “But he’s the only one who can do this. We send him in as a guest. He can be charming—when he wants to be—and this kind of event is perfect for him. He won’t be recognized as a threat. In fact, they’ll probably be more inclined to trust him because of his past affiliations.”

“But we can’t just let him roam free,” Steve said, his distrust of the god evident. “There’s still the matter of him being dangerous. Even if he’s pretending to play nice, he’s unpredictable.”

“Exactly,” Tony said with a nod. “Which is why we’ll send Y/N in with him. As his escort.”

The room went silent again, this time for a different reason. Every eye turned to you, and for a brief moment, you felt the weight of their gazes. It wasn’t exactly a choice you’d been expecting. You had done plenty of fieldwork, but partnering with Loki? That was a new level of uncomfortable.

“Y/N’s been on the ground for this mission longer than any of us,” Tony continued, sensing the hesitation. “She knows the people, she knows how to blend in, and most importantly, she knows Loki better than any of us. She can keep him in check. Plus, we need someone who can keep him focused when things get... tense.”

You couldn’t help but shoot Tony a sharp look. “You’re assuming I’ll be able to control him. I’m not sure that’s realistic.”

“I’m confident you can,” Tony said with a shrug, though his tone was far from comforting. “Besides, we’ll be monitoring you both from the moment you step inside. We’ll be feeding you intel, and we’ve got backup in case things go sideways. But we can’t afford to miss this opportunity.”

You let out a long breath. The Avengers were right in one respect—this gala would be the criminals’ first big move, and it was the perfect chance to catch them red-handed. The only problem was the wild card in all of this—Loki.

“You do realize, he’s going to hate this, right?” you said, glancing toward the hallway where Loki’s room was. “He won’t go along with it without making some... demands.”

“I’m aware,” Tony said with a smirk. “But that’s where you come in. You’re going to keep him in line, whether he likes it or not.”

The idea of working so closely with Loki was disconcerting, to say the least. You weren’t sure if you were more concerned about his volatile personality or the way he looked at you—like he could read you with a single glance. Either way, being his partner at a high-stakes event was sure to turn this mission into something far more complicated than it already was.

“You’ll need to get him suited up,” Tony added. “Dress him the part. He’s got the charm, but he’s going to need the right... accessories to sell it. A tux, maybe something dark and mysterious. And, of course, a story. We’re going with the ‘rich but elusive businessman’ angle.”

You nodded reluctantly. “I’ll make sure he’s... presentable. But don’t expect him to be on his best behavior just because he’s wearing a suit.”

“I’m counting on you to make sure he stays in character, Y/N,” Tony said, locking eyes with you. “We need him to play nice for just a few hours. If he steps out of line, you have full clearance to use whatever means necessary to rein him in.”

Steve cleared his throat, stepping forward. “I don’t like putting you in this position, Y/N. But this is the only chance we’ve got to take down these criminals. You know the risks, and we’re counting on you to make sure Loki doesn’t derail everything.”

“I get it,” you replied, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “I’ll keep him focused. But if he decides to do something... foolish, don’t expect me to clean up after him.”

“That’s the spirit,” Tony said with a grin. “But seriously, we’re counting on you both. The gala is our best chance to catch them. You’ll be getting intel from us in real time, so we’ll know exactly when to move in.”

You nodded again, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on your shoulders. This wasn’t just about stopping criminals—it was about making sure Loki didn’t ruin everything, too. And while you could handle the job, you knew it wouldn’t be easy, especially with a god of mischief at your side.

As you walked to Loki’s room to prepare him for the mission, your mind raced. You were about to go undercover with someone who had a knack for turning every situation into a game. It was going to be a challenge, no doubt about it. But if it meant catching the criminals and keeping the tower—and your team—safe, you were ready to do whatever it took.

You reached his door and knocked twice, preparing yourself for the inevitable confrontation. It was time to bring him into the fold, even if that meant wrestling him into a tux and a plan.

Inside, Loki’s voice echoed through the door. “Come in, Y/N. I trust this isn’t a social call?”

You opened the door, steeling yourself. The mission was about to begin, and there was no turning back.

The grandeur of the gala hits you the moment you step into the ballroom. Crystal chandeliers cast a golden glow over the crowd, illuminating the sea of elegant masks and opulent gowns. A live band plays a sultry melody, the kind that fills the air with the promise of secrets. Beside you, Loki cuts an imposing figure, his sharp suit tailored to perfection and his black mask veiling just enough of his face to make him look both alluring and dangerous.

You’re both walking a tightrope here, pretending to be something you’re not while still tethered to the truth. The mission is clear: mingle, gather intel on the criminals, and identify their deal. But the undercurrent of your arrangement hums just beneath the surface, threatening to pull you under with every step.

“They certainly went all out,” Loki muses, his voice smooth as silk. He offers his arm, and though you hesitate for a fraction of a second, you take it. “Is this where I play the doting husband?”

“Try not to overdo it,” you reply, keeping your voice low. “We’re supposed to blend in, not steal the spotlight.”

He tilts his head toward you, his lips curling into a smirk. “But stealing the spotlight is what I do best, darling.”

You give him a warning look, though your heart skips a beat at the way the endearment rolls off his tongue. “Save the theatrics for later. Right now, we need to find our targets.”

He hums in agreement, though the sharp gleam in his eyes suggests he’s more focused on you than the mission. His hand rests lightly over yours as he leads you through the crowd, weaving seamlessly between masked attendees. He’s good at this, you realize, his charm a perfect weapon in this environment.

“Smile,” he murmurs close to your ear, his breath ghosting against your skin. “You look far too serious for someone at a gala.”

You force a small smile, though the proximity of him sends heat rushing to your face. “I’d be more relaxed if I wasn’t babysitting a god with a penchant for chaos.”

“And I’d be more entertained if my wife weren’t so suspicious of me,” he teases, his voice dropping just enough to make the words feel intimate.

Before you can retort, Loki’s posture shifts ever so slightly. He leans closer, pretending to adjust your mask, and murmurs, “Our targets are at three o’clock. The tall one with the crimson gown. She’s speaking to a man with a cane.”

You glance subtly in that direction and nod. “Let’s move closer.”

The two of you drift toward the edge of the ballroom, positioning yourselves within earshot of the targets. Loki keeps his hand on yours, the intimate gesture lending an air of authenticity to your cover. You focus on the conversation happening nearby, picking up snippets of information about shipment schedules and encrypted codes.

But then, the music changes.

A familiar tune fills the room—sultry, electric, and unmistakably intense. It’s Bust Your Windows by Jazmine Sullivan, reimagined by the live band with a pulsing tango rhythm.

Before you can react, Loki takes your hand and spins you toward the dance floor.

“What are you doing?” you hiss, trying to pull back.

“Keeping up appearances,” he says smoothly, his mask glinting in the light. “We’re a married couple, after all. And what better way to celebrate our love than a dance?”

“You’re impossible,” you mutter, but you allow him to lead you onto the floor.

The second your feet touch the polished wood, his hand finds the small of your back, pulling you closer than you expect. His other hand captures yours, holding it just above shoulder height as he begins to move. The tango’s rhythm demands sharp, deliberate steps, and Loki executes them flawlessly, guiding you as if he’s done this a thousand times before.

“You’re surprisingly good at this,” you say, breathless as he spins you.

“I’m full of surprises,” he replies, his voice low and magnetic.

The music swells, the band leaning into the dramatic crescendos, and you feel the tension between you and Loki rise to match it. Every step, every twist of your body against his, feels charged. His hand lingers just a moment too long when it brushes your hip, his fingers grazing the bare skin between your dress and his touch.

“You’re supposed to be watching the targets,” you remind him, though your voice comes out shakier than you’d like.

“Ah, but how could I focus on them when my wife is such a vision?” His tone is playful, but there’s something darker, more serious, behind his words.

As he dips you, your breath catches. The movement is effortless, but the way his eyes bore into yours makes you forget, for a moment, that this is just an act.

The song’s climax hits, and Loki pulls you even closer, his cheek brushing yours as he whispers, “Tell me, darling. Are you pretending to enjoy this as much as I am?”

Your heart pounds, though you refuse to let him see how much he’s affecting you. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you haven’t pushed me away,” he counters, spinning you once more before the final beats of the song.

The last note hangs in the air as Loki holds you in a dramatic pose, his arm wrapped around your waist, his face inches from yours. The applause from the crowd barely registers as you realize your breathing has quickened, your skin warm where his hand rests.

He smirks, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Shall we call this a victory, wife?”

You snap back to reality, pulling away just enough to compose yourself. “Don’t get used to it. We still have a mission.”

“Of course,” he says, though the glint in his eyes suggests he’s far more interested in the game he’s playing with you than the criminals in the room.

As the crowd disperses from the dance floor, you glance toward your targets, who seem to have moved toward a private balcony.

“Come on,” you say, tugging at his arm.

Loki follows, but not before leaning close and murmuring, “I’ll be thinking about that dance for a very long time.”

You don’t dignify him with a response, but the heat in your cheeks betrays you. The mission isn’t over yet, and you can only hope Loki’s antics won’t make things even more complicated.

You and Loki follow the targets carefully, keeping a measured distance as they make their way toward a secluded hallway leading to the gala’s private suites. The corridor is dimly lit, lined with ornate wallpaper and gilded sconces. The murmur of the crowd fades, leaving only the faint echo of footsteps as you press closer to the wall, your pulse quickening with the thrill of being so near to your goal.

“They’re heading to the west wing,” Loki whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “It seems our charming couple prefers privacy for their dealings.”

You nod, your heart pounding as you creep along the edge of the hall, trying to stay out of sight. The couple stops just ahead, speaking in hushed tones. Loki steps closer behind you, his presence almost overwhelming in the enclosed space.

“Keep your focus,” you hiss, glancing over your shoulder at him.

“Oh, I am focused,” he replies, his tone playful but quiet. “Though I can’t help but wonder how much longer we can linger without being noticed.”

It’s a valid concern. The targets seem engrossed in their conversation, but the corridor is too exposed. You glance around, searching for a place to retreat or a better angle to listen in, but before you can decide, one of the criminals glances back sharply, their eyes scanning the hallway.

“They’re looking this way,” Loki mutters, his voice low and urgent.

Panic shoots through you. There’s no time to retreat, no place to hide. Your mind races, and then—on pure instinct—you grab Loki by the lapels of his suit and pull him toward you.

Before he can protest, your lips press against his, your back hitting the wall as you lean into him. His body stiffens for a split second, but then he catches on. His hands come to rest on your waist, fingers curling slightly as he leans into the kiss, matching your urgency with surprising ease.

Your heart hammers in your chest, not just from the danger but from the sudden, electric sensation of Loki’s mouth on yours. His lips are soft yet commanding, his touch both calculated and possessive as he shifts his body to shield you further from view.

“What in the Nine Realms are you doing?” he whispers against your lips, his tone more intrigued than accusatory.

“Keeping us alive,” you murmur back, your voice barely audible as the footsteps approach.

The targets pass by slowly, their footsteps deliberate. You can feel their gaze sweep over you, but you don’t dare look. Instead, you pour every ounce of focus into the act, your fingers curling into the fabric of Loki’s jacket as you deepen the kiss just enough to sell it.

Loki seems to relish the role, tilting his head to deepen the kiss further. His thumb brushes against your waist, sending a shiver through you that has nothing to do with the cold.

A voice interrupts the moment, sharp and disapproving. “This is hardly the place for such displays.”

You part from Loki abruptly, your face hot as you turn to face the source of the scolding. One of the gala’s staff members, an older man in a crisp uniform, stands a few feet away, his expression one of polite disapproval.

“My apologies,” you say quickly, straightening your mask and trying to appear appropriately chastised. “We got… carried away.”

Loki, ever the performer, offers a sheepish smile that’s somehow more seductive than apologetic. “Forgive us. My wife and I have a difficult time restraining our passions.”

The staff member huffs, clearly unimpressed. “There are designated areas for such… activities. Keep it off the main floor.”

“Of course,” Loki replies smoothly, his hand still resting at the small of your back. “We’ll be more discreet.”

The staff member mutters something under his breath before walking away, and you exhale a shaky breath, your heart still racing. The targets are gone, having paid you no more than a passing glance. The plan worked.

You glance up at Loki, whose expression is unreadable behind his mask. “That was quick thinking,” he says finally, though there’s a teasing edge to his voice. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“It was survival,” you retort, stepping out of his hold and straightening your dress. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

He smirks, adjusting his own mask with an air of casual arrogance. “Too late for that, darling. I’m afraid you’ve given me quite a lot to think about.”

You glare at him, though the heat in your cheeks betrays you. “Focus, Loki. We’re not out of the woods yet.”

“Ah, but you see,” he says, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr, “now I’m more motivated than ever to see this mission through. And who knows? Perhaps we’ll need to use that particular tactic again.”

You roll your eyes, brushing past him as you head back toward the main event. But as much as you want to dismiss his words, the lingering warmth of his kiss—and the way your body seemed to respond to him—stays with you, making it harder to focus than you’d like.

Loki follows close behind, his footsteps quiet but his presence impossible to ignore. And though neither of you speaks it aloud, there’s an unspoken awareness between you now—an understanding that something has shifted. Whether that’s a good thing or a dangerous one, only time will tell.

The ride back to the Avengers Tower is quieter than you expect, though tension hangs in the air, thick and unyielding. The mission was a success; you and Loki gathered enough intel to pinpoint the criminals’ next move and their precise location. As Tony pilots the jet, he and Natasha pore over the information, already strategizing for the intervention. Steve listens intently, his expression serious, while Bruce sits stiffly in his seat, keeping his distance from Loki, though the god seems entirely unfazed.

You sit across from Loki, your mask now discarded, but the memory of the gala’s events lingers. Every stolen glance, every near-discovery, and every moment you spent pressed against him still simmers in the back of your mind. You can feel his eyes on you, and though you refuse to look at him, your body betrays you, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Quite the evening,” Loki says suddenly, his voice smooth and low. His tone carries the same playful edge it always does, but there’s something else lurking beneath it—something darker, hungrier.

“Successful, at least,” you reply, keeping your voice even as you glance at him. “We accomplished what we came to do.”

“Indeed,” he says, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “Though I dare say the evening held more… unexpected delights than anticipated.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but before you can respond, Steve interrupts.

“Focus, you two,” he says sharply. “We’ve got work to do.”

Loki’s smirk widens, but he falls silent, leaning back in his seat with a satisfied air. You cross your arms, willing yourself to ignore him, though the memory of his kiss lingers, stubborn and persistent.

When you return to the Tower, the debriefing is quick and efficient. Tony projects the data you and Loki retrieved, detailing the location of the deal and the criminals’ schedule. The team agrees to strike at dawn, using the element of surprise to their advantage. As plans take shape, you feel a flicker of relief. The night’s tension will soon give way to action, and with any luck, this mission will end successfully.

Once the meeting adjourns, you catch Loki’s eye. “Come on,” you say, gesturing for him to follow. “Let’s get you back to your room.”

“As you wish,” he replies, rising gracefully from his seat.

The walk to his quarters is quiet at first. The Tower feels oddly still in the late hours, the hallways dimly lit. You lead the way, your mind spinning as you try to push away the lingering heat of the gala—the dance, the kiss, the way his hands felt on you. Loki walks beside you, his presence magnetic as ever, his gaze lingering on you even when you refuse to meet it.

When you reach his door, you stop, turning to face him. “Goodnight, Loki,” you say, your voice firm but polite.

But before you can step away, he moves closer.

“You’ve been avoiding my eyes all evening,” he says, his voice a low, velvety murmur. “Why is that, darling? Did I do something to unnerve you?”

“No,” you reply quickly, though the catch in your voice betrays you. “I’ve been focused on the mission, that’s all.”

“Liar,” he says softly, his smirk returning. “You’ve been thinking about it. About us. About the way I touched you, held you, kissed you.”

His words send a rush of heat through you, and you take a step back, your back hitting the wall. He follows, closing the distance until he’s mere inches away, his tall frame towering over you.

“Admit it,” he continues, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You felt it, too—the spark, the fire. I see it in your eyes, Y/N. You want me just as much as I want you.”

You open your mouth to protest, but no words come out. Because he’s right. No matter how much you’ve tried to deny it, the truth is undeniable now, burning in every corner of your being.

His hand rises to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “Tell me to stop,” he murmurs, his eyes searching yours. “Tell me to walk away, and I will.”

But you don’t.

Instead, you lean into his touch, your resolve crumbling as the need overtakes you. Loki’s eyes darken, his breath hitching as he realizes your answer.

With a groan, he closes the distance, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that’s nothing like the one at the gala. This kiss is raw, urgent, and unrestrained, a culmination of every unspoken word and every stolen glance. His hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips move against yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless.

And to his surprise—and yours—you kiss him back with just as much passion. Your fingers thread through his dark hair, pulling him closer as you lose yourself in the moment. The world falls away, leaving only the heat of his touch and the hunger in his kiss.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathing hard, your foreheads resting together. Loki’s hands remain on your waist, his grip firm yet gentle as if he’s afraid you might pull away.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse but tender.

You don’t let him finish. Instead, you press your lips to his again, silencing any words with a kiss that speaks volumes. For now, words don’t matter. All that matters is this—this moment, this connection, this fire that neither of you can deny anymore.

And for the first time, neither of you tries to.

The Tower feels different now, quieter in the wake of the mission’s success. The criminals have been apprehended, their operation dismantled, and SHIELD has taken over for the cleanup. But despite the victory, a strange tension lingers, heavy and unspoken. Fury and Thor are locked in discussions about Loki’s fate, and you and Loki are left waiting in his room, suspended in uncertainty.

The silence between you is unlike any other you’ve shared before. It’s not sharp with banter or charged with playful tension; it’s softer, quieter, tinged with something neither of you is willing to name.

You sit on the edge of the small couch by the window, gazing out at the city lights glittering against the dark sky. Loki leans against the desk, his long fingers idly toying with the edge of a book. For once, he’s still—not prowling or pacing, not filling the room with his restless energy.

“They’re taking their time,” you murmur, your voice cutting through the silence.

“They always do,” Loki replies, though his tone lacks its usual sarcasm.

You glance at him, studying his profile. He looks calm, almost serene, but you’ve spent enough time with him to see through the mask. The faint furrow in his brow, the tension in his jaw, the way his hands grip the book just a little too tightly—they all betray him.

“They’ll make the right decision,” you say softly, more to yourself than to him.

He scoffs lightly but doesn’t look at you. “The right decision,” he repeats, the words laced with bitterness. “That depends entirely on who is defining it.”

You sigh, standing and moving closer to him. “Loki, you helped. You could’ve run at any point during this mission, but you didn’t. That has to count for something.”

His lips twist into a faint smirk, though there’s no humor in it. “And do you think that will sway Fury or my brother? Do you think they’ll forget what I’ve done? The chaos, the destruction?”

“They don’t have to forget,” you say, stepping even closer until you’re standing right in front of him. “But they can see that you’re not the same person who attacked New York. You’ve changed, Loki.”

His gaze finally lifts to meet yours, and for a moment, something raw flashes in his eyes—something vulnerable and uncertain. “Have I?”

You place your hand over his, stilling his restless movements. “Yes. You have. I see it. And if they can’t, then that’s their failure, not yours.”

The room falls into silence again, but this time, it feels different. Loki’s hand shifts beneath yours, his fingers curling around yours as he exhales slowly.

“What do you think they’ll decide?” he asks quietly.

“I don’t know,” you admit. “But whatever happens, we’ll face it. Together.”

His eyes search yours, and for a moment, the mask falls away entirely. You see the man beneath—the uncertainty, the fear, the hope he doesn’t dare acknowledge.

“You say that as if you’ll still be by my side when this is over,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You don’t hesitate. “I will be.”

His hand tightens on yours, his eyes holding yours as if trying to memorize every detail. Then, without warning, he pulls you closer, his other hand rising to cradle your face.

“If this is to be the last time we’re alone,” he says, his voice trembling slightly, “then let it be a moment worth remembering.”

Your heart aches at the words, at the vulnerability he’s showing. But you don’t argue. Instead, you lean into him, closing the gap between you.

The kiss is different this time. It’s not urgent or hungry but slow and lingering, filled with a quiet desperation. His lips move against yours as if savoring every second, every touch, every taste. His hands are gentle, one cradling your cheek while the other rests on your waist, anchoring you to him.

You lose yourself in him, in the way he holds you like you’re something fragile and precious, in the way his touch feels like both a promise and a farewell.

When you finally part, your foreheads rest together, and the world outside feels impossibly far away.

“No matter what they decide,” you whisper, your voice breaking slightly, “you’re not alone. You never will be.”

For a long moment, Loki doesn’t speak. Then he nods, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek as he closes his eyes.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, the words so quiet you almost miss them.

The two of you stay like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, letting the world outside fade away. For now, there’s no SHIELD, no judgment, no uncertain future. There’s only this—this moment, this connection, this fragile yet unbreakable bond.

And for now, that’s enough.

The knock at the door comes like a thunderclap, shattering the fragile stillness you and Loki have wrapped yourselves in. You tense in his arms, and his grip on you tightens briefly before he lets you go, stepping back as though putting distance between you is the only way to shield himself from what’s coming.

You take a deep breath and move to answer the door, Loki trailing behind you. When you open it, you’re greeted by the imposing figures of Nick Fury and Thor. Fury’s face is unreadable, his single eye piercing as it moves between you and Loki. Thor’s expression is graver than you’ve ever seen it, a heaviness in his gaze that sends a chill down your spine.

“May we come in?” Fury asks, his voice clipped.

You nod, stepping aside to let them enter. Loki lingers near the window, his posture deceptively casual as he leans against the wall. But you can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers curl faintly against his sides.

Fury and Thor take positions near the center of the room, both of them standing tall and commanding. Thor’s gaze lingers on Loki, a mix of concern and judgment flashing across his face.

“We’ve reached a decision,” Fury begins, his tone as sharp as ever. “It wasn’t an easy one, considering everything Loki has done in the past and the risks he poses in the future.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding as you glance at Loki. He’s staring at Fury now, his expression a careful mask of indifference.

“Loki Laufeyson,” Thor says, his deep voice cutting through the tension. “Your actions during this mission have proven that you are capable of aiding Midgard without causing harm. However, they do not erase the destruction you have wrought.”

Loki raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “How magnanimous of you, brother. Do get to the point.”

Thor’s jaw tightens, but he presses on. “You will not be returned to Asgard’s dungeons. Instead, you will remain here, under the supervision of SHIELD and the Avengers. Your movements will be restricted, and any deviation from the terms of your parole will result in severe consequences.”

Fury nods. “Think of it as probation. You step out of line, you’re done. No exceptions.”

You exhale a shaky breath, relief flooding through you despite the harshness of their words. Loki isn’t going back to Asgard’s prison. He isn’t being taken away.

Loki, however, seems less than impressed. “So, I am to be your prisoner still, but with a longer leash?”

“Consider it an opportunity,” Thor says, his tone softening slightly. “To prove that you are more than your past mistakes.”

Loki’s smirk fades, and for a moment, something unreadable flashes in his eyes. He looks away, his gaze drifting to the window.

“And what role do I play in this… probation?” he asks, his voice quieter now.

“You’ll assist the Avengers as needed,” Fury says bluntly. “Your skills are… useful, when not being used to destroy things.”

“Charming,” Loki mutters.

Fury ignores the comment, turning his attention to you. “As for you, Y/N, you’ll remain his primary handler. You’ve proven capable of keeping him in check, and frankly, you’re the only one he seems remotely willing to listen to.”

The weight of the responsibility settles over you, but you nod firmly. “Understood.”

Thor steps forward then, his gaze fixed on Loki. “Do not squander this chance, brother. It may be the only one you are given.”

Loki meets his gaze, his expression unreadable. “I’ll endeavor not to disappoint you, Thor.”

The words are polite, but there’s a sharpness to them, a bitterness that hasn’t faded. Thor watches him for a moment longer before nodding and turning to leave. Fury follows, but not before giving you a pointed look.

“Keep him in line,” he says, and then he’s gone, the door closing behind him.

The room falls into silence again, heavier now than before. You turn to Loki, who remains by the window, his back to you.

“Well,” he says finally, his voice tinged with sarcasm. “It seems I’m to be your ward indefinitely. I hope you’re prepared for the burden.”

You take a step closer, your heart aching at the undercurrent of vulnerability in his tone. “Loki… this is a second chance. They didn’t have to give you that.”

He turns to face you, his expression guarded. “A second chance to serve as their pet sorcerer, you mean. To be tolerated, not trusted.”

“It’s more than that,” you insist, moving closer still. “It’s a chance to prove them wrong. To show them who you really are.”

“And who is that, Y/N?” he asks, his voice dropping. “Who do you think I really am?”

You hesitate, your throat tightening as you search for the right words. “I think you’re someone who’s been hurt, someone who’s made mistakes, but someone who’s still capable of doing good. Of being… more.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, his expression softening ever so slightly. Then, to your surprise, he chuckles—a quiet, almost bitter sound.

“You are a strange woman, Y/N,” he says, shaking his head. “But perhaps that’s what I need.”

You smile faintly, stepping even closer until you’re standing right in front of him. “You’ll never have to face this alone, Loki. Not as long as I’m here.”

He gazes at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours. Then, slowly, he lifts a hand to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin.

“You’re maddening, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice low and tender.

“Then we’re even,” you reply, your lips quirking into a faint smile.

For the first time that night, his smirk softens into something more genuine. And as he leans in, pressing his forehead against yours, the weight of the world outside fades, leaving only the two of you in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.

137 notes · View notes

hauntedwitch04 · 1 year ago

Text

Neighbor

Steve Harrington x reader

Words: about 0.8k words

Warnings: smut, possessive!Steve, swearing, kinda voyeurism, not proofreaded

Author’s note: Hi loves! New day new kink, hope you like it, your witch Becky

Requests are open I Ask

My masterlist

Join the Taglist

If you like my works, consider to buy me a coffee - Patreon submission

KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 13: Caught masturbation

-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-

Steve Harrington and you have been neighbors since you were born. When you were younger you spent hours and hours playing in the backyard, and when your parents forced you into the house, you kept playing in your rooms, since your windows were in front of each other. You used to spend hours looking out, imagining adventures and exploits of the older heroes, playing at being big, not knowing that after all, you grow up too fast.

You and Steve remained very good friends until high school, when he decided that you were not popular enough to be seen with him and that he needed to find new, "cooler" friends to really be somebody. This of course had made you feel very bad, but fortunately you had met other people, better than King Steve, who had become your friends, like Robyn, a skinny blond girl who played in the school band and was a real genius as well as being a very good friend. You and Steve didn't even say hello to each other anymore when you walked past each other to go to your rooms Those windows that used to be portals into each other's world were now nothing more than what they really are: cold pieces of glass, allowing each other to peek into the other person's life hoping it would be worse than their own.

Everything had remained that way until this evening.

Steve recently returned from yet another party; he doesn't even know how he managed to get home to tell the truth, since he doesn't even remember getting into the car.

The boy is lying on the bed, still looking at the ceiling and wondering how many drinks he has had, when he realizes that your bedroom window is open, which is not so strange since it is the middle of summer and the muggy heat is unbearable at night, but usually the curtain was always drawn so that no one could see your little piece of heaven.

Steve, confused by alcohol does not realize what he is doing, and so in the dark, he sits on the bed and starts looking at you, trying to figure out what you were doing.

Your room has not changed that much since you were children, but some posters and books now adorn those walls that little you had so insisted on, being your favorite color. The desk is covered with open school books and notes, while on the floor was a pile of clothes, probably dirty, among which Steve could make out some clothing you had worn in the past few days.

The boy's eyes roam all over the room, trying to absorb the details of your life, looking and hoping to recognize deep down the little girl he was in love with as a child. All until he sees you.

You're lying in bed, in semi-darkness, but somehow Steve can see you, wearing a simple tank top and a pair of summer shorts, hoping to fight the heat; but it's not how you're dressed that shocks the boy, but what you're doing.

Your eyes are closed, while your head is resting on the pillow. Your right hand squeezes your right breast, since you are not wearing a bra, from above your shirt, while your left hand is in your shorts. Your mouth is ajar as you let muted moans slip from your lips as you chase your pleasure.

Steve freezes for a second looking at you knowing it is wrong what he is doing, yet he cannot shake his eyes off you. He feels his erection growing in his pants, to the point that it hurts so much that he can no longer avoid touching himself, first from above the fabric, then in desperation, he unzips the zipper of the jeans he is wearing and pulls out his member, beginning to lightly massage it. All this without ever taking his eyes off you, as if you were a magnet.

She watches as your fingers continue to circle your most sensitive spot, faster and faster and hungrier. Your breathing becomes labored and uneven, until a few minutes later you reach orgasm. Slowly your fingers stop moving, and you try to catch your breath. Your eyes are still closed and you can't see in the house in front of you, your neighbor masturbating at the sight of you climax.

Steve also comes to orgasm, a couple of minutes after you do, thus making time to hide well in the shadows, when you open your eyes, looking around as if you have the feeling you are being watched. He watches you settle down for a moment, before getting up to go to the bathroom, and at that moment Steve Harrington, the king of Hawkins High School, decides something.

The next orgasm you have will be at his hands.

TAGLIST

@digitalhearts @samanddeansannoyingsis @minkiles @ash04w3 @123345566 @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @nightfiress @theyluvtrinity21 @supernatural-lvr @starsval @imaraccoon @CaptainsBaby @titinkaaa @newtdumbledoorstarksoot @aunicornmademedoit @AlohaStitch0626

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #kinktober 2023 #becky's writing

247 notes · View notes

arc-misadventures · 1 year ago

Text

There’s Something On Your Face

Another day, another dollar, another poorly written news story.

Jaune Arc may have finally landed his dream job at the, Daily Planet. Being able to tell, and explore various stories that help inform people throughout the world. Being able to see, and hear all sort of things. And, being around some of the most talented reporters in the world. It was his dream come true!

But, good gods the people here were illiterate.

Jaune: Haaa… Good lord…

Nora: What’s wrong, Jaune?

Jaune: This place is filled with some of the most talented news reporters in the country, but they all seemingly pose the writing capabilities of an eight grader! Which isn’t all the surprising considering the country’s falling education system…

Nora: Why, what did they spell wrong?

Jaune: Ruby, was writing a report about the ecological damage, Lex Corp has committed in that gas leak we had the other week. And, she wrote: ‘The effects of the ass leak will have unseen effects…’ Ass leak… Good lord…

Nora: Well… it’s where gas leaks emanate from.

Jaune: …

Jaune: You’ve been hanging around, Yang too much. That… that was just horrible.

Nora: She makes worse puns than that, and you know it.

Jaune: True. Speaking of bad puns, where is, Yang?

Nora: I don’t know, maybe she got an exclusive scoop, and had to go report on it again.

Jaune: Yeah, another exclusive scoop…

Jaune turned to look outside, his mind gazing over the familiar high rise landscape before him as a question that had been plaguing him ran amok. That stopped when he saw a green blur fly past followed by a white figure chasing after it.

Jaune: Oh, looks like, Superwoman’s got a dancing partner. Though I don’t think it’s a good dancing partner.

Nora: Wait, what?!

He said this as nonchalantly, and generally uncaring as possible as he saw his coworkers rush to the window to see what was a abuzz.

Jaune had been at the, Daily Planet well before, Superwoman had arrived. He had reported on her first exploits as a hero saving, Metropolis. Had conducted several personal one on one interviews with her. Hell, he had even been saved by her a few times. So seeing her go about doing superhero things like saving the city from an alien invasion, some villain with a massive ego boner, or simply saving some kids kitten stuck in a tree, he had seen it, and written about dozens of times before. It was time that the new blood reported on such stories. Besides, he would know about it all in the end anyway, when he checked up on their atrocious grammar mistakes anyway.

But, as, Jaune looked through the window to see, Superwoman’s white cape billowing in the wind. Her dazzling smile radiating the sky as he blond locks of hair shined seemingly created a halo of light around her. Making her appear like an angel in the sky. He couldn’t help but ask himself the same question he often found himself ask all the time as of later:

Who was it that wore the mask of, Superwoman?

~~~

: Hey, Jaune!

Jaune’s musing from grading more spelling mistakes, and poor grammar was broken when a warm voice freed him from his stupor. He looked up to see violet eyes hidden behind thick black rimmed glasses with a warm welcoming smile he knew all too well.

Jaune: Oh, hello, Yang. Where have you been?

Yang Xiao Long had been working at the, Daily Planet for a few years now, she was a highly skilled reporter with an uncanny ability to always snag the hottest scoop from under your very nose. She also had this odd habit of suddenly disappearing, and reappearing at will. She could have been fired for this if she didn’t keep on bringing such fantastic news stories though.

But, as he looked upon her, her dorky little smile, and her hair tied in its usual ponytail. He could help but wonder how she would look like if she removed those ugly frames of hers, and wore contacts, it was such a shame to hide such a beautiful dace after all.

Yang: Oh catching this juicy story by the docks!

Jaune: The docks? What were you doing around there?

Yang: Oh… I was… I was just out for a jog. That’s all~!

He could help, but quirk an eyebrow at her rather odd remark. They lived in the same building, the docks were on the other side of town from where they lived. And, she found this supposed juicy story on a jog? That didn’t add up.

Jaune: And, the story?

Yang: How, Lex Corp recently bought it, and how a lot of strange items have been coming through. And, an odd amount of stuff like fruit, and vegetables.

Jaune accepted the paper containing, Yang’s story, and put if with pile of stories he need to review. Her brief synopsis sounded ridiculous, but, Lex Corp was a shady place. He was once been given a bag of peanuts by them, and he would swear on his life that whatever he ate that day wasn’t a real peanut.

Jaune: Okay, I’ll give it a look see when I come to it. Need anything else?

Yang: Nope, that’s all.

Jaune: Okay, now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to pondering how our education system if failing to teach proper english to people.

Yang: Okay! I’ll be here if you need me.

Jaune watched her, the country girl in the big city seemingly skip her way to her desk to work on what ever new story she had concocted.

She was a nice girl, but she was a little odd. Everyone was a little odd so that wasn’t a huge problem, but their was something especially odd about, Yang. He had several feelings about the girl, he understood, and rationalized them as best he could.

And, yet there was just something he couldn’t pin down about the girl.

~~~

Jaune looked to the clock on the corner of his computer screen, and saw that it had ticked past six o’clock. He looked around the office, and saw that it was only him, and one person left in the office.

He rubbed his eyes as he stood up. He grabbed some paper, and walked over to the last person in the office.

Jaune: Congratulations. You the only person who didn’t piss me off today.

Yang: What?

Yang looked at him confused as he handed her back her news story. She looked at the paper, and the only mark she saw was the stamp that read: ‘Print it.’

Yang: I’m confused.

Jaune: I’ve been reviewing, and fixing everyone’s stories all day, and yours is the only one I didn’t have to fix. To which I thank you.

Yang: Oh, no problem, Jaune! Were there any bad spelling errors you need to fix?

Jaune: Lets see, first off there was, Ruby’s mistake of writing, ‘Ass leak,’ instead of, ‘gas leak.’ Nora got lost on a tangent of talking about pancakes in her story, again. Neptune’s story was supposed to be about the new swimming pool that was built, but he spent most of his time failing to flirt with girls according to, Sun. And, the cherry on top was, Blake’s report on the faunas rights rally. Instead of writing, ‘feline’ she for some reason wrote the worss, ‘peal lime.’

Yang: Pfft-hahahaha!

Yang’s warm laughter was infectious, and brought a smile to his face as he watched her happy smile play across her face.

Jaune: Considering the fact she is a cat faunas she should know what the hell she’s talking about, but nope. Apparently she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

Yang: ‘Peal lime.’ Ha! That’s a good one.

Jaune: Yeah. So thanks for not giving me more work to do for a change.

Yang: Just doing my job, Jaune. Think nothing of it.

Jaune: It’s always nice to have something to relax to. So let me have this one. Okaaaaaaay…?

Jaune’s words began to slur as his head tipped inquisitively to the side as he looked at, Yang’s face. The action made, Yang nervously fidget as he appeared to be looking for something.

Yang: I-Is there something wrong, Jaune?

Jaune: There’s something on your face. Hold still, I’ll get it.

Yang’s face started to become flushed red as, Jaune leaned down, and moved closer to her face. She started stuttering as his hands came closer to closer, and then the unthinkable happened.

Jaune had pulled off her glasses.

Jaune: Ah ha! I got it, there was a disguise on your face, Yang. Or perhaps I should say… Superwoman~!

And, had swiftly, and effortless unmasked her super hero persona.

Yang: H-How… How did you find out…?

Jaune smiled softly at her as he took a seat in the chair across from her. He handed back her glasses to which she rapidly put back on to hide herself so to speak.

Jaune: I thought you’d put up more of a fight, and deny you were, Superwoman. But, to answer your question, I’ve had several reasons to suspect it was you. The fact that when one of you is present, the other has seemingly disappeared. That you seeming always have the scoop, then Superwoman deals with it before the authorities could possibly deal with it. Before we even have the oppression to publish the story. You seemingly have insane reflexes that no normal human with years of experience could develop. And, i know you have super hearing; how else could you have heard where, Mrs. Schnee’s wedding ring fell. You had her back to her, and it fell upon a carpet, I couldn’t hear that, and yet you did. These are all speculative reasonings though, easily can be construed as drawing conclusions. But, do you really want to know how I knew you were, Superwoman?

Yang: H-How…?

Yang was sacred, for the first time since she had dawned on the cape, she was genuinely scared. She knew, Jaune could be highly analytically minded when he wanted to, and that he had this terrifying habit on picking up on the smallest of details. And, if he seduced her secretly identity just by noticing the small details others would pass over, what else had he discovered about her?

Jaune: Your eyes.

Yang: What…?!

Jaune: Your eyes… People may share the same shade of blue, brown, yellow, what ever colour there is. But, they don’t look that same. I remember staring into those violet eyes for the first time, and being mesmerized by how soft of a warm violet they were. Then, I remember when, Superwoman saved me from that weird, Toy Master fellow, I couldn’t help, but notice how beautiful her eyes were. But, I knew this was the first time I saw them, I couldn’t help but shake the feeling that I’ve seen them before. And, I finally answered that lingering question that plagued the back of my mind. So, does that answer your question, Superwoman?

Yang: …

Yang: I-I’m not in my costume… Y-Yang’s just fine… And, yeah… that answers my question… Well at least some of them, but yeah…

Yang looked away nervously before starting, Jaune down with a worried expression etched across her face.

Yang: So you know my secret identity… N-Now what…? Are you going to tell the world that, Yang Xiao Long is, Superwoman?

Jaune: No, no I won’t tell anyone.

Yang breathed a sigh of relief that washed away all the fear she had been building up.

Jaune: However, you have to do one thing for me.

And, suddenly all that fear, and dread came rushing back like a tidal wave.

Yang: A-Are you blackmailing me?!

Jaune: Mmm… Kinda, yeah.

Yang was shocked, she saw, Jaune as such a sweet, and caring person, was he really going to blackmail her?!

And, what would he make her do? Steal a vault, break a bridge, kill someone?! What could he possibly…

Jaune: Perchino’s, tomorrow, say five o’clock?

Yang: Eh…?

Yang looked towards this goofballs smiling face as she was utter lost in thought at what he just said. So lost that she honestly took a minute to go from her fear to being blackmailed to realizing what he had just said.

Yang: P-Perchino’s… a-at five…?

Jaune: Does six work better?

Yang: Waitwaitwait! Are you asking me out on a date?!

Jaune: Surprised?

Yang: Honestly, yes. Yes I am… I thought you would tell me to rob a bank for you, or something like that. Not ask me out… o-on a date…

Jaune: Well, if it makes you feel better I’m asking you because I’ve been meaning to for a while now.

Yang: Y-You have?

Jaune: Yeah, it’s just every time I try you’re suddenly gone. But, now I know why. So, since I have you here; Does five, or six o’clock work for you?

Yang: …

Yang: F-Five o’clock…

Jaune: Awesome! Well, it’s late, and I need to get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, Yang. Don’t stay up too late saving the city! Bye.

And, with that, Jaune was gone, leaving a bewildered, Yang behind.

In the space of five minutes, Jaune Arc had turned her world upside down. He unmasked her effortlessly, twice. He had her quaking her her boots when he said he was going to blackmail her into committing a crime. And, he had asked her out on a date instead.

He had asked her out on a date.

Yang was asked out on a date.

Yang: I have a date tomorrow…

Yang: …

Yang: I have a date tomorrow…?

Yang: …

Yang: I have a date tomorrow!~!

Yang squealed in glee as she realized that her crush had asked her out on a date. This was unbelievable, unforgettable, highly unpredictable, highly…

(Shatter!)

Yang’s exuberance was cut short as she saw that several of the offices windows had been shattered from the high pitch her joyous squeal had made. She looked about the office, before looking back at the window in shock.

Yang: …

Yang: Oh shit…

///

I had a thought the other day: It’s called the Kryptonian AU, who says, Jaune has to be the Kryptonian.

#rwby #jaune arc #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #nora valkyrie #ruby rose #willow schnee #jaune x yang #yang x jaune #rwby dragonslayer #neptune vasilias #sun wukong

386 notes · View notes

watarfallar · 6 months ago

Text

Does anyone here like this weird thing called "Desert Duo Incorrect Quotes?" No? Oh well. I'm running out so I'm giving as many as I can to you all. Enjoy it!

Scar: My hands are cold. Grian: Here, let me hold them. Scar: My lips are cold too. Grian: *covers Scar's mouth with their hand*

Grian: I want to kiss you. Scar, not paying attention: What? Grian: I said if you die, I wont miss you.

Grian: Being gay is a constant battle between "I wish to sit on a window bench with my lover, our legs tangling as we listen to the birds" and "Hey, let's go throw rocks at fascists" and I think that's very sexy of us. Scar: If the window's open and you time it right, you can do both.

Scar, to Grian: We had a date! Scar: *aggressively points to Hello Kitty Coloring Book*

Scar: I warned you. Scar: I'm perfect.

Grian: Please, Scar, after everything we’ve been through together. You can’t do this. Grian: I’m sorry Scar. Grian: I’m begging you. Don’t do it. Scar: It has to be done. Grian: Scar: Grian: Scar: *Places +4* Uno.

Scar: Are you packed for the trip? Grian: Yup. Scar: Then where are your bags? Grian: All I’m bringing is a good attitude and a sense of adventure. Scar: A change of underwear might be nice.

Grian: Just be careful, Scar! Scar: *heading out the door* I'm always careful, Grian! Scar: It's everything around me that's careless.

Grian: *Gives a bouquet to Scar* Scar: You know I'm allergic. Grian: That's the point.

Scar: Your future self is talking shit about you right now. Grian: Jokes on them. I'll ruin their fucking life.

Scar: Who the fuck- Grian: Language! Scar: Whom the fuck- Grian: No.

Scar: Ha! What are you gonna do? Stab me? *Five minutes later* Scar, calling 911: HELP, IVE BEEN STABBED.

Grian, looking at the squad: Okay, so I need to become a therapist faster.

Scar, handing a balloon to Grian: I have no soul. Have a good day! Grian, walking off: I don't have one either.

Scar: I’ve only ever said ‘I love you’ to two people in my entire life: Grian and a guy in a dark club who I mistook for Grian.

Grian: I found a note in one of my old word .docs that said Note to self: Get revenge on Scar. Grian: Except I couldn't remember what I was supposed to get revenge for. Grian: But I trusted my own judgment, so I went with it. Scar: Hmm... I don't know what you were supposed to get revenge for, either. Grian: I can only assume you got what was coming to you. Not 100 percent sure, though. Scar: Well, whatever I did, I guess I deserved it. Grian: Let that possibly be a lesson to you.

Grian: Oh, fiddlesticks. Scar: Look, I understand this is a tense situation, but let's watch the fucking language.

Grian: Heh, Scar sneezes like a girl. Scar: How about I pound you like boy? Scar: That didn’t come out right.

Grian: Consider the fundraising over! Your hero has arrived! Scar: Uhh… where did you get so much money from, Grian? Grian: Well, you know, I’m pretty good at numbers. I just crunched them, I stretched them, I analyzed my accounts, I timed the market- *police sirens start to wail in the background* Scar: DID YOU ROB A BANK?! Grian: Oh, come on, Scar, do you really think so little of me? *opens the bag as purple dye explodes on their face* Scar: Grian: …it was a credit union.

Scar, turning to Grian: Stop calling yourself hot, the only thing you can turn on is the microwave.

Grian: *trying to get five seconds of sleep* Scar, poking Grian’s arm: Grian Grian. Grian. Grian. Grian: WHAT? Scar: …We’re out of Capri Suns—

Grian: I’m not being weird. Am I being weird? Scar: Yes, and that’s coming from me.

Scar: And have you learnt anything this Christmas, Grian? Grian: …Not really. Scar: Nothing? Grian: Tell you one thing I have learnt—Christmas; ultimately, commercial holiday. Who's the real winner at Christmas? Amazon. they have drones now! Tiny little dystopian slaves delivering iPads and headphones. I ordered a toaster; It was on the doorstep five hours later! Do we need that? It was 4.99! For a toaster! I mean, someone's being exploited there.

Scar: Bottling up negative emotions is bad for your health, so you shouldn't do it. Grian: I know, that's why I bottle up all my emotions, both positive and negative, so it cancels out. Scar: Th-that's not how that works-

Scar: Priest kink is definitely a thing and I am afflicted by it. Grian: Go to church. Grian: WAIT—

Scar: Is it just me or is instant ramen even better uncooked? Grian: It’s just you.

#grian #gtws #incorrect quotes #desert duo #scarian #I love watching them just tossing half a braincell to each other and seeing if they're going to drop it or catch it 😊#seriously it's adorable #enjoy💜💜💜

87 notes · View notes

mythauragame · 1 month ago

Text

Development Update - February 2025

Hello everyone! Miyazaki here with February's development update for Mythaura. We covered a lot of ground this month—it is probably the single biggest month for us in terms of development. We're excited to tell you about some of the things that we've finished up and look forward to sharing even more features with you in the future.

Note: Last month we'd said that we'd be posting about Wolfwasps...that's postponed until next month. We will be posting Wolfwasp lore as well as hosting a ✨radiant✨ giveaway.

Co-op Demo

Players will be able to explore the world of Mythaura—both overworld locations like Talon's Rest as well as the procedurally generated Wild Areas—in groups of up to three players. If there are only two players, you can add an additional Beast to the party lineup.

youtube

Players can no longer be added to a Party if they cannot access the Party Leader’s location (e.g., if the area is not yet unlocked in their game).

When a player joins a Party, they will automatically move to the Party Leader’s location. Any location change must be agreed upon by all Party members.

By default, only friends can invite you to a group. However, we are exploring options for players who may want to allow invites more freely or block them entirely.

If a player disconnects, they can freely reconnect and will be placed back in the same location.

Forums

The Forums are the heartbeat of Mythaura's social scene. Whether you're looking to share your most recent PVP builds, recruit people to join your adventuring party in the Waspwood, or talk about how excited you are for Patch 8 of BG3 to come out (not that anyone's excitedly waiting for that, of course), the Forums will have a place to house your discussion.

Mythaura's Forums feature a Reddit-style posting system, with the ability to create nested replies.

Forums will feature:

Trending threads: What are the most popular recent threads? This feature will showcase threads that are receiving the most engagement at the time.

Tags: Players will have the ability to tag their content, helping other players find and sort through relevant content.

Thread following: Keep updated on threads that caught your interest. We know you're waiting for your favorite artist to release the baby Basilisk Glamour they've been teasing for a while.

Markdown styling to customize your posts exactly how you'd like them

Bug Bounties

During our Closed Beta window, the Bug Reports category will be special in that it will function as an issue tracker. Each thread can be marked as a duplicate of another and have a status & severity tied to it, allowing users to follow a bug, reply to indicate they have also encountered a bug, and see what status a specific bug has.

Bug Statuses

New: The default status

Confirmed: A programmer has been able to replicate the bug and confirm its real

Duplicate: This is a duplicate of an already-existing bug

Fixed: It’s been fixed!

Closed: Closed without fixing, such as if this turned out to be user error.

Severities

Low: Typos, minor visual glitches, asset issues, and browser-specific issues that do not impact gameplay.

Moderate: Functional bugs that cause inconvenience but do not break core mechanics.

High: Major bugs that significantly impact gameplay, progression, or player experience.

Critical: Urgent security vulnerabilities, game-breaking exploits, data loss, or anything that could severely affect the integrity of the game or its economy.

To encourage thorough testing and reporting, players who discover and report new bugs will receive a Shard reward once a programmer has confirmed the issue. Rewards scale based on the severity of the bug. Only the first player to report a bug is eligible for a bounty—duplicate reports will not receive rewards. Players who provide exceptionally detailed reports, including steps to replicate the bug, may receive bonus Shards at the discretion of the development team. If a bug is found to be abused before being reported, the player may not be eligible for a bounty and could face consequences.

User Profiles

Beasts are at the very core of Mythaura gameplay, so we want to ensure that you have several ways that you can show off your cast of characters with the rest of the site.

youtube

Featured Beast Groups

The Featured tab allows players to showcase collections of their favorite Beasts in a slider. Players can group beasts into customizable folders with a name and background. Up to 5 groups can be featured on your profile. Show of your favorite beast collections!

Abode

The Abode contains all of a user's Beasts. The two-toned background on each of the Beasts is based on their combination of Elements.

Gallery

Galleries are collections of items users would like to showcase.

Galleries are a separate inventory, so an item in a Gallery cannot be added to the satchel or sold until removed from the Gallery.

Stats

The Stats page will showcase a player's statistics across the Gameplay, PVP, and Forums categories.

Dossiers

A literal blank canvas! Enter your custom HTML and CSS to make pages that are uniquely yours.

Winter 2024 Rewards Reveal

Winter 2024 Glamour: Shire Unicorn

Winter 2024 Companion: Ornaboros

Winter 2024 Solid Gold Glamour: Quetzal (Young)

Year of the Snake Companion

Happy Year of the Wood Snake, everyone! It seems that with the arrival of the New Year, a colorful companion has slithered its way into Mythaura.

For the remainder of the Ko-fi shop being open (through the end of 2025), the Auspicious Ophidia will be available for purchase in both its non-radiant and radiant forms. Sponsors of ALL levels may purchase these companions.

Kirin Expressions

This month, the expressions team—the ever-talented Luci, Sour, and Koa—finished all expressions for the adult and young Kirin. (I'd like to give a personal shoutout to Luci for making the "sad baby"/fourth expression so pitiful...what did they do to deserve feeling like that 😭)

Osstelids

Sponsored by: Lomon

Our final sponsored Companion comes from Lomon, who came to us with a wonderful design for a fairy + ferret creature. Thank you for sharing your vision with us and letting us implement it into the game!

Reminder: NPC Design Contest

As we begin to populate Talon's Rest, we'll need plenty of NPC designs—and that's where you come in!

We've created a Google Form for you to submit up to three Beast designs for consideration. Please be sure to include the Beast Creator code or else your entry will not be considered.

In addition to their design being used for a shopkeeper, winners will receive a bundle of useful items for their adventures through the local Wild Area, the Waspwood Forest.

The winners will receive*:

1x Soulshift Coin (breed-changing item) of your choice

1x Godspeed Potion

3x Lockpicks

3x Crude Torch

3x Travel Rations

3x Small Energy Potion

3x Small Health Potion

1x Beta Key

NOTE: * These rewards will not show up in your rewards lookup tool since that tool only looks up Ko-fi rewards, but they will be applied to your account directly!

Writing Updates

Main story three-act outline completed

Main story greenlit

Intro quest currently being storyboarded; script to follow

Mythaura v0.35

Co-op Gameplay: Players can now form and manage co-op groups. Integrated co-op battles and overworld interactions and adjusted co-op parties to allow global co-op in any location.

Forums Buildout: Built out functionality for forums such as categories, likes, replies, thread collapsing, tags, locking & pinning recent/popular threads, following and forum search.

Social Features: Introduced a friends list, online/offline status, and user search.

User Profiles: Profiles now include additional customization and feature a nice design.

User Settings UI: Initial build-out of the account settings screen.

Beast Grid Redesign: Overhauled the Abode Beast grid design.

Beast Groups: Beasts can be added into groups freely created by users and then features on their profile.

Battle UI Improvments: Cleanup of battle UI and implementation of informative ability tooltips.

Battle Running Mechanic: When running from a battle, the enemies now have a free round of attacks. Only one beast needs to initiate the run sequence.

Battle State Retrieval: When you close your window while in a battle, you will just load right back into your battle when you return. Multiplayer & PvP battles that are completed while away are excluded.

Class & Species-Specific Overworld Abilities: Introduced unique abilities based on class and whether the species flies.

Stealth Mechanics: Sneaking now limits elite enemy aggro range and encounter rates.

Elite Enemy Detection: Added elite enemy detection, idle behavior adjustments, and footstep sounds for improved immersion.

Boss Encounters: Introduced bosses in towns and wild areas.

Fishing Minigame: Added 28 unique fish, catchable in an interactive minigame.

User & Beast Dossiers: Introduced an initial version of the dossier system.

Settable Pronouns: Beasts can now have pronouns set that NPCs will use in dialog. By default, this is linked to your beast's gender, but can be changed. Users can also set pronouns, which will display in their profile and forum header in the future.

In-Game Currency Display: Shards and gold are now visible in the UI when shopping or viewing inventory.

Added Time-Based Passive Effects: Which will allow us to add time-based effects, such as using a torch and having Illumination for 5m.

Cipher Buildout: Began build of Cipher features.

Thank You!

Thanks for sticking through to the end of the post, we always look forward to sharing our month's work with all of you--thank you for taking the time to read. We'll see you around the Discord.

#mythaura #petsite #virtual pet site #flight rising #unicorn #dragon #griffin #kirin #quetzal #peryton #ryu #hippogriff #basilisk #indie dev #game dev

35 notes · View notes

shini--chan · 2 months ago

Text

Hello, I recently read your latest yandere Overhaul fic (by the way, I loved it, it's very true to the character, congratulations!) And I've been thinking about a scenario with poly!Chronohaul (sorry, I don't know if you write "poly") where the reader runs away and encounters a hero (not very creative, but I was curious).

Sorry my english

Hello there, don't worry, your English is better than you think. Let's se what I can whip up here:

Yandere Chronohaul x Reader - Blindspot

Word count: ~9k Synopnsis: Exploiting a moment of their weakness, you manage to escape. Luck seems to be on your side, you even find shelter by a pro-hero, then it isn't anymore. Trigger warnings: discussions of kidnapping, isolation and punishment and gore. Rated mature (further warnings not mentioned to prevent spoilers.)

Were it under other circumstances, you would have taken the time to enjoy being outside for the first time in months. Even the stale city air of Mustafaa was refreshing compared to the recycled and sanitised air you got down in the Yakuza basement. Your heart was beating as fast as that of a mouse and anxiety made your senses sharp. Every rustle of leaves, every flash of lights in the distance and the commotion of a neighborhood slowly falling asleep made your fear spike. Which was influencing you more - the rabbit-like fear of running from danger, or having spent so much time in sterile circumstances with set parameters that you were now overwhelmed.

Your muscles were severely atrophied. Each step made your legs burn and your lungs ache, yet you continued to push yourself forwards. After all, with each passing second they could be closing in on you, finally having noticed your absence. It really was a stroke of luck that you managed to slip through the cracks. While your more outrageous escape attempts had died down months ago, you had nevertheless kept a watchful eye out for any cracks in Chisaki’s elaborate cage.

Imagine your surprise when one domino tripped another one over, and a party of some kind gave you the opening you needed. Carefully bent hair pins had opened the door, and it had been easy to lull the sleepy and intoxicated guard to sleep. The commotion upstairs had overshadowed any noises your scampering had caused. Yet …

Kurono and Chisaki weren’t to be taken lightly, and one or the other or both could have been on their way to seek some peace and quiet in the comfort of your arms when you finally managed to slip out the kitchen window.

Best get to the busier inner city instead of remaining stuck in the suburbs - with all the people around, they would have a harder time finding you. Not to mention that they wouldn’t be able to just swoop in and scoop you up. The question was if you would even make it that far. Yet you just seemed to be stumbling into ever filthier and rundown neighborhoods.

Your vision was already swimming from all the physical exertion and you were starting to feel slightly nauseous. The past months had featured a calculated diet and a lifestyle tailored for that of a precious human doll, not an ordinary citizen or even an athlete. Finally, you couldn’t bear it anymore and unceremoniously collapsed on a bench by the road. The squeak of protest the metal gave grated in your ears.

Taking deep breaths, you tried to calm yourself down. The coppery taste of your own blood lingered in the back of your throat and you felt awfully queasy. Above you, the tree branches and the electric cables swam. Closing your eyes only brought you minor relief. You leaned forward and rested your head on your knees.

What on earth should you do now? Where could you go where neither Chisaki nor Kuruno would find you? Your old life wasn't much of an option - it would be the first place they would look and your loved ones would be the first people they would threaten. While you had managed to swipe some money on your way out, as well as some other bits and bobs, it wouldn't last you forever.

The wind weaving through your tresses reminded you too much of Chrono running his fingers through your hair. He had forced you to grow it out, much to his friend's charigin. The memory caused an involuntary shiver to shake your body.

Now that the adrenaline high was gradually abating, and you were no longer keeping yourself hot by running, the winter chill was making itself noticeable. The cold sweat on your brow and your back made you shiver in spite of the oversized coat you were wearing. Instinctively you drew yourself closer together. To make matters worse, you weren't even wearing proper shoes and the linen of the indoor loafers were soaked through. Now that you paid attention, you couldn't feel your toes anymore.

To confirm your fears, you scuffed your foot against some of the snow on the ground. A strange jolt shot up your leg and the absence of feeling in your toes was more noticeable. It was like having rubber mockups attached to your foot instead of actual flesh-and-blood appendages. You swore under your breath. All the movement made you more ill. The nausea was coupled with dizziness now.

You could already hear Chiskai tutting at your pathetic state and explaining in that oh so condescending voice of his that this was what you rightfully got for running away. He was like oil - slick and slippery and contaminating in a way that you would never be able to get rid of him. You’d forever have his voice whispering in your head as an embodiment of your doubts and fear. It wasn’t aided by the fact that he was right so often. Bad girls like you always got the shorter end of the stick due to not listening to their betters. If only you’d listen to his guidance and treat it like the gospel it was, then…

“Are you alright, kid?”

A voice tore you from your spiralling thoughts and you startled. Before you, there was a middle aged man in a gaudy hero costume.

You couldn't stop shivering. At this point, it was no longer due to the winter cold or your wet clothing. The soaked garments had long since been discarded and banished to a bucket in the bathroom. Now you were huddled on a couch and dressed in baggy clothing graciously provided by your saviour. Canine Instinct, the hero who had given you refuge, gave you a concerned look and carefully handed you a lidded mug with a straw in it.

“Careful there. Drink slowly but drink everything, alright? It is just lukewarm, not hot, so don't worry about burning your tongue. You are now coming down from your adrenaline high and you also spent a lot of time out in the cold. So you need sugar now, or else you'll crash”, he cautioned you.

While you knew that the cup was just warm, yet it burned to touch from the roots of your palms to your fingertips as you accepted it. Feeling re-entered your fingers painfully, and your flesh tingled uncomfortably. With trembling hands you lifted the beverage and took some careful and slow sips through the straw.

The rich, creamy flavour of hot chocolate flooded your senses. Having something so decadent and aromatic after months of a strictly controlled diet really was a treat, utter heaven to be precise. It provided some form of comfort and eased the marrow deep fear that was making you quake.

Sighing, you allowed yourself to sink into the couch. Tension bleed from your shoulders and extremities, and you turned your focus away from your surroundings and zeroed in on the treat.

All of this, running away and finally being free, finally no longer having to cater to the whims of two eccentric men, finally not having to abide by their stringent rules any longer, had felt so surreal. It still did, though you were no longer neigh fully convinced that this was all a pipe dream or an elaborate hallucination. There was still the ember of doubt in the back of your mind, nagging that this was all a trap that was about to spring shut at any moment.

Yet what would you do if it really was a trap? As of now, you were too vulnerable and sluggish to escape or also defend yourself. If you had stayed outside, you would have frozen to death sooner or later, if the hero would have even let you commit such a passive suicide. Overhaul's care had made you soft and fragile - yet another reason to loathe him.

“Thanks a lot”, you rasped in between sips. The ruggish features of your rescuer soften to a small smile. He rolled his shoulders and the ripples beneath the blue-yellow hero costume spoke of a healthy and trained body. “Just doing what was proper, kid.”

It was cute how the hero was downright sheepish now. He rubbed the back of his head and pointedly avoided eye contact by staring off to the side. Your heart started to hammer and your cheeks burned. Yet you were quick to shake yourself out of it and you averted your gaze as well.

Now was not the time to bat eyes at strangers, you admonished yourself. Was it because of your prior social isolation that you were now extraordinarily sensitive to new people? It would make sense; you had avoided developing fuzzy feelings for either Chisaki or Kurono and now that a somewhat passable person had presented himself, you were becoming emotional.

Or you were being a stereotypical damsel in distress. All too quick to be charmed by the knight in shining armour. All too eager to sow a bright future and glorious future now that you were no longer in danger.

Your shivering had died down, now that had introduced some sugar into your system. The silence between the two of you was now awkward. His hand switched from the back of his neck to his arm, and he rubbed the polyester fabric thoughtfully. The silence that reigned was awkward and it made your skin crawl. You rubbed your feet together beneath the blanket and prayed for another miracle to happen. Anxiety made your heart flutter, you tightened your fingers around the ceramic in your hands.

“You must still be cold! I’ll go get the heater”, he mumbled. Before you could say anything to that, he already slipped out of the room and left you on your lonesome.

With a sigh, you sunk into yourself and angrily nursed your beverage. Mind you, you weren’t angry at him, you were angry at yourself. Clearly spending months on end locked away in some Yakuza base of operation had severely degraded your social skills, amongst other things. Seeing the same set of faces, and only really being allowed to converse with two of them hadn’t done you any favours. While in their tender care, you thought you might die due to sheer boredom or a scorned Chisaki or Kurono. Now, you were evidently in danger of finding your end due to social anxiety and emotional clumsiness.

Once upon a time, you had struck conversations with strangers on the train while travelling. That all had rotten away to reduce you to being an emotional mess once you saw an unfamiliar person. Looking back, it was a stroke of macabre luck that you had been too out of it due to exhaustion and the beginnings of hypothermia to panic when the hero had approached you an hour or so ago to think about social implications. Even though both of them were the root of this development, you could very well imagine your kidnappers citing this as a reason as to why you had to be shielded from the rest of the world.

Taking a large gulp of hot chocolate and thus finishing off the mug, you placed it on the coffee table next to the musty sofa. With nothing better to do, other than stew in your own misery, you decided to take a good look around the room.

It was tidy if cramped, and it spoke of a person that wasn’t home often. While there were books stuffed in the shelves and knicknacks strewn across window sills and countertops there was a layer of dust over everything and an odd sort of lifelessness to this living room. There were no photos or items out of order - it looked more like a room from one of those sterile stock photographs. It was sad, because even Chisaki’s office had more of a personal touch to it than this apartment.

Canine Instinct marched through the living room door the next moment, a portable heater in hand. The device was plugged in, and he placed it close to you. The switch was flipped and the heater came to life with an audible whirl and hum. Soon, it enemated a comfortable warmth. You stretched your legs out and flexed your toes.

“Don’t go too close. We don’t need you setting the blanket or your socks on fire”, he warned you. The floundering from before had disappeared out the window now that he could play protector again. You didn’t know whether to label his attention demeaning or flattering. Instead of reprimanding him, you just giggled quietly. Mixed feelings really are a pain.

“Yeah, thanks for the warning. The brain fog is lifting so I don't think I'm gonna do anything rash soon.”

He settled down on the couch, all while maintaining a respectable distance from you. Not that body contact would throw you off centre, at least not when it would be coming from him. Not when he had half-carried you to his home. It had been maddening how he had barked at you to keep your legs moving, lest you be unable to move them. Only Overhaul's punishments of drugging you up to the gills had prevented you from expressing your annoyance beyond facial expressions.

“It was very lucky that you found me out there, and I can't thank you enough”, you started. While your times as an unwilling shut-in had degraded your social skills and the tact needed to navigate interpersonal situations, it hadn't eroded your manners. Best start there and build up on that basis.

“I hope that I didn't interrupt anything important, Canine Instinct.”

The hero scoffed and shook his head, the brown-black hair swaying as he did so. He appeared to be oddly tired at that moment.

“Don’t mention it. And call me Teru. Too many people throw up their hands nowadays when somebody else is in need. This was the least I can do”, he explained. Next to the derision aimed at the everyman, there was a jaded quality to his voice. It stood in sharp contrast to his fumbling behaviour from earlier.

You shifted so that you were facing him. The makeshift underwear fashioned out of torn bed sheets chafed at your too soft skin as you did so. He had given you his name, that was a good sign that you weren’t being too rigid in his gestures, and that he was warming up to you.

“And because it is not a certain thing there is only more reason to be thankful”, you protested. Here, you were earnest. If he had come a bit later, then the negative consequences of your actions would have been more severe, or even permanent. Or even worse, maybe your two kidnappers would have found you. “You did save my life, Teru. It is hard not to be thankful.”

Blue eyes looked at you thoughtfully and he imitated your gesture by angling his torso to face you as well. He studied you from a moment, and you felt your skin crawl in anticipation.

“It seems like I have”, Teru finally muttered. It was contemplative and said with wonder. Wasn’t this guy a hero though? Didn’t he swoop around to save people daily?

Suppressing nervous laughter, you turned to ask him: “What were you doing outside? Was it one of your patrols?” By no means could you claim to really know what hero work entailed, with you only aware of the one or the other aspect of it through the news and also pop culture.

Your host leaned back into the musty sofa and closed his eyes.

“Something like that. Not really patrols in the traditional sense, more of a scouting of the neighborhood and analysing weak points and blind spots”, he elaborated. That wasn’t exactly comforting news. Had you stumbled into the arms of a villain?

He opened his eyes once more and fixed you with a calculating expression.

“I'm just in the area to investigate a series of break-ins. You wouldn't happen to be the villain behind those?”

Your face flushed and you felt mortified for a moment. Being put in the spotlight so suddenly was extremely unpleasant. And how could he just straight up accuse you of commiting crimes? Had he just taken you in to nurse you back to health and then interrogate you and slap the handcuffs on your wrists? Worse still, how could you convince him of your innocence without looking like an idiot? It wasn’t like you really had a verifiable alibi. The laughable notion of pulling Kurono up to testify that you had been in mafia hands and incapable of committing any burglaries came to mind.

Then it rushed away as the absurdity of the situation dawned on you and you began to chuckle. Soon you were laughing so hard, that your whole body was shaking and your muscles were beginning to ache again. It was exhilarating - you had gone around with a dour attitude for what felt like a lifetime, and this was a very welcome change of pace.

As a pleasant surprise, he joined in and his face shone with mirth. The hero looked far better with a genuine smile on his face. For a few seconds, the jadedness and the exhaustion melted away. The two of you sat there, laughter ebbing and rising as the humour resonated between the two of you.

“As sorry as I am for shocking you, you should have seen the look on your face!”, he pressed out once both your faces were more than just flushed from all the chucking and giggling.

His laughter came from the belly, and fully matched the smokey baritone he had. As he passed into chortling again, the crow’s feet in the corners of his eyes became deeper. In turn, you tempered yourself for a few moments in order to stop laughing.

“That was very mean of you. You really had me convinced that you were going to arrest me for a moment”, you chided him. The past you might have gone as far as to playfully swat at him, though that person had long since become a matter of the past.

Teru now wore a more comfortable and lighthearted expression. “I know that my brand of humour is very dark and not everybody’s cup of tea. It was definitely worth the try, seeing how tense and on guard you were being”, he elaborated.

Upon his mention of it, you realised your own rigid body language. Despite allowing your body as a whole to sink into the cushions, your shoulders were still slightly hunched and there was tension in your arm and leg muscles. The pain of hyper tense muscles travelled up your back as you cocked your head. Without a doubt, your back was probably as hard as a stone due to all the stiffened muscles; a product of the past few months. Taking a few deep breaths, you consciously unwound the tension in your extremities and lowered your shoulders.

After the bout of merriment and manually relaxing your body, you indeed felt better.

“Sorry about that. It is just that I have been through so much that it is hard to feel safe, even when I logically know that I am.”

The man next you let out a loud exhale and fully turned to you. His body language was open and relaxed, purposefully so. Teru did his best to school his features to a warm and receptive expression - not an easy task for a man with such sharp features. His countenance only softened marginally. There was pity as well, and you couldn't define if the emotion spreading in your chest was relief or frustration.

“It is hard to miss that. You clam up every now and then, you act more like a frightened bunny that is being chased than a human being. While I'm not the most sociable person, I'll still listen to you if you want to talk about your experiences. Best not to be left alone with your thoughts after all”, he said.

In spite of his kind words, you were hesitant to share your burden. Grabbing the edges of the blanket, you cocooned yourself further. Opening your heart would mean exposing yourself to potential attacks and making yourself vulnerable. As tempting as it was to purge the wound of pus, it was nearly safer to keep everything inside. So you stewed in your misery, the concoction becoming more viscous by the minute. Soon you would never be able to free yourself.

What made it worse was that Kurono had been like this all too often. The kidnapper had insisted that you call him Hari and had plied you with books and blankets and fresh fruit. When he had talked with you, it had often been in a soft, warm tone that was more suited for luring in wild animals than conversing with a human. His reasoning had been sound, and with what he had said, you had thought that he emphasised with you. Consequently, you had stepped in his trap, and when he finally revealed his true colours, he had had enough intel to surpass or even rip your defenses down.

Teru sunk into himself after a few minutes of enduring your silence and ran a hand through his hair. Then he rubbed both hands up and down his thighs and sighed shakily. Eyes averted and directed to a distant point out the window, he eventually started talking about himself:

“I’m kind of a mixed bag when it comes to hero work. My quirk enhances all of my senses, for one, so I had a pretty terrible childhood, but that is another can of worms. For most of my career, I’ve been tasked with searching missing people.

“It is hard, gruelling work most of the time, even with a quirk suited for the task. While it is always a delight to find people that had simply gotten lost and were grateful to be rescued and brought home, it wasn't always the case. Far more often we'd find people that were the victims of villains, especially in the years when Almight was in America.”

He gave you a sombre and meaningful look. There was pain in his eyes, and finally it occured to you that all the discrepancies that you were picking up from him were due to him being jaded, of his bitter experiences clashing with his more caring base nature. Your fingers flexed.

“It could be anything from a disorientated or frightened girl to a man mutilated beyond recognition. Often, there wasn’t enough time to give the search party a full briefing, since any search is a race against time, with how things currently are. Therefore, we were never sure what we would find. Most of the time, it would be a terrible surprise that would leave the new members on the team retching, and the seasoned ones with sleepless nights. It is always terrible to have to pack somebody in a body bag and console the families afterwards.

“It is even worse when the person you searched for is dead by their own hand. Suicide never takes pain out of the world, it only transfers it to the people left behind. What follows is worse than usual grief because everybody blames themselves. But most of the time, there are no easy solutions to suicidality. Let me stop here before I divulge into philosophical rambling”, he explained. Towards the end, his voice grew thick and his eyes glassy. He turned his head with a sniff.

Once he gathered his bearings, he turned back to you. He took a shaky breath and quirked his lips to a false smile. Such an expression would be more suited on a softer face; on him, it only accentuated his pain.

“I hung the hat there a few months ago because it just became too much. As of now, I’m concerning myself with easier tasks, like investigating and catching burglars.” He made a sweeping gesture to the living room the two of you were seated in. “As you can see, this place is used and not really lived in yet. Comes from me drowning myself in work to not have to deal with the Gordian knot that is my past. Emotions can really be a pest. Friday nights are for the bar, and the bartender is the closest to a therapist that I can get. I’ve see the best and the worst of humanity, so much so that I can’t bear simply brushing somebody in need aside.”

The latter part of his tale was told in choppy sentences and his words were bittersweet. Teru had opened his heart to you to make you feel more at ease, which was more than anybody had done for you for a long time. To Kurono you had been akin to a pet, and to Chisaki, a doll. Nevertheless, this also pulled on your heart strings and put pressure on you to reciprocate the gesture.

“I am … sorry for what you had to go through. I know that you’ve been through a lot and to be honest, I don’t really know what to say”, you started. It was true, after all. How did you respond to a hero that elaborated on harsh work experience?

Your rescuer let out a small, barking laugh. “While I can understand you now feel the need to console me, you really don’t have to. This was an olive branch.”

You weighed your options and drew your knees to your chest. Your knee jerk instinct was to make up a lie that would be less embarrassing and exposing. Something like being a rich kid that had run away from home, or a tourist that had been mugged. Eventually though, you conceded at any tall tales that you could spin would only come back to bite you. The bitter, disgusting truth it would have to be.

“I was kidnapped by the Yakuza”, you stated. You paused there to gauge his reaction. There was a sharp inhale on his end and some muttered, intelligible cursing. He looked like he wanted to take the reins in his hands and launch into a questioning. Instead, he held himself back, and gave you a stiff nod to continue.

“I don't know what the usual story is of people roped in for organised crime, at least not entirely. There wasn't any fake modeling agency nor had I taken any money in the form of a loan from them. Actually, I didn't have any contact with them and was living a normal life. Things were not spectacular in any way; not very good, nor very bad”, you elaborated.

You forced yourself to unfurl your limbs and stretch. The flesh wasn't as numb as before and there was a pleasant burn as you extended your legs and pointed your toes. Tension curled in your abdomen, like a venomous snake ready to strike. With a shaky exhale you pushed yourself to continue.

“I didn't notice that I was being stalked at first. To me, it was always one of those things that only happen to other people, so I was in denial for the longest time. At first, it was also so easy to brush off as me having an overactive imagination.”

Not being able to contain your fidgeting, you reached forward to snatch the cup. With it in your hands, your twitching and tensing and scratching wouldn't be that obvious. His kindness and hospitality aside, you had still had been an involuntary recluse for the longest time, and furthermore the kidnapping wasn't the easiest thing to talk about.

“Then the gifts started appearing.”

You could recall it with painful clarity. The roses and the candied fruits had been sweet in the beginning, so much so that you had been able to brush the uneasiness aside. Naive as you had been, you had convinced yourself it was just the shy gestures of an acquaintance or co-worker.

“It was normal at first, and easy enough to just label as some cheesy romantic gesture. Then, the gifts started getting weirder and weirder. I got leather gloves and an elaborate filter mask. Next, there were outdated books on quirk theory. These were all things that just popped up on my doorstep, or in my mailbox.

“Then the stalking became more invasive. The gifts started appearing in my apartment, and with letters as well. I was told to avoid people, to not engage with heroes or villains and not to go to the police unless I wanted people to die. Things were stolen or misplaced and they started controlling my diet by replacing food items in my fridge and pantry. I became a nervous wreck and started to isolate myself because I didn't have the slightest clue who it was and who it wasn't.

“Me being at home didn't stop the buglaring or the gift-giving. It only brought me face to face with them and resulted in me getting abducted by the Shie Hassikai.”

Your voice cracked at the end and you were so swept up in emotions that you couldn't continue. Tears spilled down your cheeks and you bowed your head in shame of your own emotional vulnerability. Days upon days you had refused to let yourself dwell on what had happened; it was not like pondering on the what-ifs and has-beens would have improved your situation in any way. You had avoided letting yourself think about that “courtship” in order to not crack.

The hero shifted closer to you, and lay a tentative hand on your back. When you didn’t flinch away, he caressed you.

“Did they want you because of your quirk?”, he asked.

You scoffed derisively. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Though, he wasn’t at fault for asking such a question. Many kidnappings happened in order to utilise somebody’s quirk, or to … establish a new bloodline. It had been ironic luck that Kai Chisaki hadn’t been enthralled with you due to your powers.

“That occured to me as well in the beginning. But the Hassikai aren’t typical villains or like normal organised crime. They want to remove quirks from people”, you spat. You had been so naive in the beginning - you nearly missed those times. Actually knowing the nature and direction of Chisaki’s ambitions was worse.

A sharp gasp left your companion and he ceased his comforting gestures. Indeed, he even sprung to his feet and started pacing.

“Anti-quirk Yakuza, ha? That is very strange and concerning. Did they kidnap you because you are quirkless?”

To that, you shook your head quickly and flinched. While you had avoided being depicted as a human trafficking victim, there was the chance that he would decide that you had fallen prey to human experimentation. All of this was tiresome and tedious and soured acid on a festering wound. Even after he had taken you seriously and not lambasted or ridiculed your hardships, you still felt shame for what happened. While this was akin to draining the pus from an infection, it was still painful and highly unpleasant. Besides, how to make him understand without making it look like you sympathised with Overhaul’s cause. His goals and motivations weren’t of the common flavour and even less comprehensible to most.

That was the issue with explaining Overhaul: he didn't mind quirks, he didn't even mind quirk usage. What he detested was how quirks had changed society, had turned society into a hoard of eternal adolescents and the country into a playground. All these heroes and villains just smash up creatures and things, and then retreat back to their vast carelessness, according to him. Others were then left to pick up the pieces, and clean up the mess they made.

And then there were the ordinary people, who refused to lift a finger to help others because there surely was a hero closeby. Scientific development had stagnated and even regressed in some fields, and the current culture was one that catered to humanity's vices. Chisaki Kai didn't want to destroy quirks, he wanted to destroy hero society and then fashion something new and “healthy” from the ashes.

Overhaul's view was completely alien to most people and it didn't help that he tended to explain it through the lenses of his mysophobia. It had much time and frustration on his part, and much confusion and horror on yours until you had finally understood his rants. You probably only hadn't ended up as a smear on the wall because he had deemed making you understand his point of view to be of utmost importance. Overhaul had yearned for your love and sympathy and support, and had tried to gain it by breaking down his ambitions.

His world view was nearly incomprehensible to a quirk based society, so how on earth could you convey the gravitas and severity of his endeavour without being misunderstood yourself? To make matters worse, Chisaki's scheme of overhauling society even had a high chance of success.

You were about to lay out careful arguments and try to make him comprehend in a few minutes what had taken you weeks to grasp when the sound of a window shattering tore you out of contemplation. Teru immediately stopped pacing and you dropped the cup in your hand out of surprise.

Thankfully, it only fell onto your lap. The lid came undone and a few stray droplets darkened the blue blanket. All the tension that had bled from you the past minutes returned to you all at once and your heart rate shot up.

The hero's attention reflexively went in the direction of the commotion. In the next few moments, you were both motionless and silent as your ears strained to catch further noises. A high note of glass clattering heightened the suspense.

“Hide yourself somewhere close by and don't come out until I say the coast is clear. I'm going to go deal with these burglars”, he announced and then briskly set off to put himself in danger.

Being left alone was very daunting and you were tempted to call out to him and beg him to stay. A very selfish request and you forced yourself to stay silent. Your eyes followed him as he marched away. He didn't even bother with quieting his steps. You swallowed nervously.

Despite feeling lightheaded from fear, you willed yourself to stand up. Your heart was in your throat and you flexed your hands as you considered your next course of action.

Hiding in the living room would be the most obvious course of action. Therein lay the problem - if the criminals were out for blood, then of course they would check every nook and cranny of this room. Even if they were just out for valuables, then the living room still wasn't a safe place to stay.

Best hide yourself somewhere that couldn't possibly hold any valuables. With that thought in mind, you exited the living room, and then decided to head in the opposite direction of the commotion. You were still undecided about your hiding place when you passed the entry way and noticed motion in your periphery.

Just in time you turned your head to see the door swing open on silent hinges. There was no sound of it being unlocked or the tell-tale sound of the door handle being pressed down. Instead there was only the rustle of the lock disintegrating to particles and the exasperated sigh of Chisaki when he layed eyes on you.

You froze, like a rabbit that had just noticed the fox leering at it with hungry eyes. This really was one of the worst outcomes that could have been. Your mind blanked. Gold eyes fixed you with exasperated amusement. Nothing far from the usual and that was the worst part of it.

“I really had envisioned an evening that didn't involve running around and picking up runaways. Now don't drag out the inevitable and come here”, he told you. One gloved hand was outstretched.

The audacity of him to treat you like an unruly puppy, instead of a suffering person that yearned to leave all the hardships behind. It was sickening. It was disgusting. And the big problem here was that he thought he was being righteous and that you were being disagreeable. There he stood in the doorway just out of reach of the light’s rays. He was a spectre that had returned to haunt you, and he would never let you have peace. If you weren’t careful, he would drag you to hell with you in tow.

Slowly, you backed away from him, all while shaking your head. By now, you were hyperventilating, and his dismayed attitude only made you more distraught. Fresh tears started to spring from your eyes, and your lungs constricted with the beginnings of hyperventilation.

“Why do you have to make things so difficult? Can’t you see that I just want the best for you? Staying amongst this sickened society would have only made you fall prey to Hero Syndrome sooner or later. I just want to save you, I just want to keep you safe, and you treat me like a monster”, he criticised you and there was finally some more emotion in his raspy voice, even if it was just condensation.

Chisaki stepped into the light, the messing outline of the plague doctor mask he loved to wear shining. Droplets of water made the obnoxious purple fluff of his jacket shine. A new pair of latex gloves were snapped over the ones he was already wearing and he passed the genkan step to make his way over to you.

That was when fear kicked you into moving, and moving fast. You stumbled back where you came from and darted into the living room. From what you could hear, he didn’t even bother running after you and instead pursued you at a leisurely pace. A quick look over your shoulder told you that he was slowly becoming angry at your perceived insolence.

The door was hastily slammed shut behind you. Without having time to search for a better place to hide, scrammed to a small storage closet and squeezed yourself inside, taking as much care as you could to not knock over the vacuum cleaner inside. As quietly as possible, you closed the door again and crouched down. Right in the nick of time as well, because you had just closed the door when the living room door opened again.

You covered your mouth with a hand to muffle your breathing and you turned the impulse to jump in shock into a flinch when the living room door made a soft knock against your hiding place. Overhaul didn’t bother masking his steps as he sauntered into the room.

“I had planned to spend a relaxing evening with you. Heavens know that I needed it, especially after having to deal with that brat and all those incompetents. Then I come down to your room, only to find that you had knocked out your guard and run away. Just when you seemed to truly be coming around, just when you seemed to finally understand the rightness of my actions, you have to pull a stunt like this. Pet, you have no idea how disappointed I am in you”, your tormentor mused.

You listened as he walked around the living room. There was a loud squeak as he moved the couch, doubtlessly to check if you were under it.

“As much as I love you, it is moments like this that make me really want to tear my hair out. Here I thought that once I made you understand the importance of my work, I could grant you more freedoms. I was looking forward to not having to monitor your every move, and to foregoing the guards. You really have betrayed my trust this way. However, if you come out of your own accord now, I’ll be a bit milder with my punishment towards you.”

Breathing with a hand over your mouth was more difficult than expected. Sweat made your palms slick and caused the oversized shirt to stick in the most uncomfortable places. Your lungs burned as you tried to consciously control your breathing.

There was a scoff on the other side of the door.

“The first thing you do upon running away is drink hot chocolate. And here I thought Hari was being too lenient with you. Maybe he has been; I should stop turning a blind eye to him sneaking you treats.”

He tapped his fingers against a shelf as he rounded the room. Again, there was some tutting. Doubtlessly he had noticed the layer of dust covering all the furniture.

“You know, your punishment is inevitable so there is no use hiding. A burned child shies the fire, after all, so it must be. We all know that a good talking to doesn’t really drive the point home, in your case. You need to be taught a lesson with emotional impact. Thankfully for you, it will be quick one this time.”

Footsteps from the hallway approached you, the steps speaking of a brisk and firm pace. Your heart soared and hope blossomed. You prayed that it was Teru and he was coming to rescue you. If anybody stood a chance against one Kai Chisaki, then it surely was a seasoned hero. Even if Canine Instinct couldn’t best Overhaul in a fight, then he could wreak enough havoc to enable the two of you to flee. If you were lucky, then more heroes would come to your aid and then Overhaul could be finally defeated once and for all. Maybe, you could then…

“Ah, Hari. Took you long enough”, Chisaki remarked, and with that, all your dreams were shattered.

“Not on purpose, mind you. This one was tougher than your usual run-of-the-mill hero. He had a really nasty right hook”, Kuruno remarked. There was a nasal quality to his voice, as if his nose had been broken. A groan was followed by a thump, as if a body was being set down.

You balled your hand into a fist and bit down on your thumb to stop yourself from wailing. Shivers wracked your body and sharp pain sprouted from where your teeth dug into your flesh. Hope dies last, and it never is a pretty or peaceful death.

“A hero, how very quaint. Say, should we torture him?”, Overhaul mused.

You screwed your eyes shut, as if you could will what was playing out to become unreality. This was all your fault in a way, and that made this all the worse. If only you could convince yourself to move, then maybe you could save him. However, you were too paralysed with fear, or you were too selfish to do so.

"Do we really have the time for that? As much as I would like to see the one that took our darling (name) away from us,

I would prefer to have them in my arms already", Chrono remarked.

A huff and then the rustle of fabric. It was very clear to you by now that Chisaki was annoyed and furious and that letting his anger out on the hero would very much a viable option for him at the moment. From everything that Chisaki had shown you about himself, he was the type to bottle his rage behind formality and ambition and transmutate it into a drive to fulfill his goal. Until it would all become too much and he would explode. Then blood would paint the walls and people would die or be mutilated.

"Look in the storage closet behind the door."

The words barely registered when the door was already ripped open and a hand shot forwards to wrap itself around your wrist. You kicked and yelled and attempted to

bite with, just in the face of your aggression the man simply fisted your hair with his other hand. The pain caused you to scream and he used the moment to force you to tilt your head back. You were then dragged out of your hiding place by the hand on your wrist; the one on the back of your head forced you to comply and not move a centimetre out of line.

You were brought to the middle of the living room next to the couch. Teru was sprawled next to the coffee table, the miniscule movements that he was making sluggish.

The wonderful effects of Chronostasis. The man behind you shifted to release your wrist and then curled his arm around your waist. Kai regarded you with sardonic amusement. The skin around his eyes crinkled to crows feet.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?", he inquired mockingly.

Your thoughts were now racing a thousand miles a minute and that was when something extraordinarily stupid came to mind. You didn't waste any time musing if it was a good move or not, because there was no moment like the present. Briefly, you allowed yourself to sag forward in mock defeat. You didn't plan on speaking - what was there to say that you hadn't said in the beginning? Anything that came to mind was corny or pathetic and you didn't want to say anything that would diminish yourself in their eyes any further. Besides, your throat ached from the stress your body had to go through in these short minutes.

However, there was one thing you wanted to give off your chest:

"Go to hell, both of you."

With that, you threw yourself backwards and upwards. There was the satisfying crack as your head met his nose, and crushed the already damaged cartilage. Kurono swore and from the corner of your eyes you noticed Kai jerk forwards. For a precious few moments, the vice grip on you loosened and you attempted to rip yourself out of his arms.

You failed. While you managed to tear free, he caught you almost immediately. One hand grabbed your hair again, and reeled you back with you letting out small yelps of agony.

When you were next to him he took his mask off and set it on the armrest next to him. Blood was running down his face, past his lips and was already staining the collar of his off-white coat.

"I say that our little poppet should learn the price of running away, yes?", Hari suggested, rubbing his nose were you had slammed your head into it. The white glove came away smeared with blood. The already swollen flesh around his nose had taken on a blue-purple tinge. He gave you nasty smile, something very unusual for him given how passive and laid-back he tended to be. Injuring him had evidently crossed a line.

"Of course. Don't you want me to see to your nose first, however. It looks pretty bad", Chisaki asked.

His eyes filtered over the injury before landing on you. A vein popped in his forehead and the beginnings of hives were discolouring his skin. That matched with the glare he gave you made you flinch. Not only had you forced him to enter a hero's house, you had also injured his friend and your other lover. With Kurono's tendency to dote on you, he had probably tasked him with taking care of you. The assumption had most likely been that you wouldn't dare harming Hari.

Whenever Kai had been frustrated or absolutely strict, Hari had usually stepped in to act as a buffer. You owed one Hari Kurono much of your sanity. Because of that, you had gone to great pains to remain in his good graces. And suddenly, you had thrown all of that into the fire.

"It is worse than it looks. Let us finish up here and then head back to the compound. We can do all the medical stuff there", was the response. There was some shuffling as he put his mask back on again. Then, he stepped behind you again and proceeded to restrain you in a full Nelson.

Kai shrugged, an awkward move with that trademark bomber jacket that he was still wearing. He peeled the gloves on his left hand off and bent down.

Kurono lowered his head so that his mouth was level with your ear.

"Behave now. It could be worse; I could tell Kai about the things you told me about your time in highschool", he threatened. With hopeless eyes and a hand on your jaw, you were forced to witness an execution.

Chisaki only touched Teru with the very tip of his finger, yet that was enough to activate Overhaul. The supine body exploded outwards in a whirl of blood and guts and bones. Your abductor stood in the middle, a wicked sorcerer of his own design, and stared thoughtfully at the churning mass of gore.

Kurono tightened his grip around you as you started to squirm more relentlessly. It was far too late Teru, yet that didn't dampen the desperation and sadness that screamed at you to come to his aid.

“Calm down, you will only injure yourself”, the man cautioned you. “Don't waste your tears and your heart on that filth when you have Kai and me.”

Finally, Kai came to a conclusion. The maelstrom of human tissue imploded, and next to Overhaul there was the dead body of Canine Instinct. His eyes were open, and skin already deathly pale. It looked like he had been dead for some time now. While you weren't an expert, it appeared as if rigor mortis was already in its final stages.

"Doesn't look like much. I though you wanted to burn the house down to remove any and all evidence?", Chrono inquired.

Overhaul shook his head at that. The corpse was given a firm kick and then the Yakuza head made his way over to the two of you. He fished a lone glove out of his jacket pocket and with sure gestures put it on. His yellow eyes remained on you the whole time, as if the answer was actually meant for you:

"I've changed my mind. Let us give the heroes a mystery to throw them off our trail. I've altered our dear friend here so that all medical examinations will find him to have been dead for a long time already. What I granted was a peaceful death, much more than a hopeless case like him would have deserved."

He stopped right in front of you, the tip of his mask nearly scratched your cheek. What a sight you must have been - eyes glassy and wide blown, your mouth half open as you panted and the veins of your neck prominent. You opened your mouth and not a sound came out.

"It is your fault, you know", he pointed out. One gloved hand cupped your cheek and his thumb ghosted over your cheek bone. "You forced my hand. If you hadn't run away, then nobody would have had to die because of you. Count yourself lucky that there aren't more corpses."

With that, he marched past the two of you in the direction of the front door. Chronostasis pushed you into moving and you shuffled along, dazed by what had happened.

On the way past the couch, he snatched the blanket and pressed it to your chest. Wordlessly, you accepted it and undid the bundle with shaking hands. The adrenaline rush was subsiding, and you felt like a passenger in your own body.

When you took too long to wrap yourself up, Kurono ripped the blanket from your hands and with deft movements tucked the fabric underneath your arms and rolled you up in it. Strong hands lifted you up, and once he was carrying you bridal style he followed his best friend. You found Overhaul by the closed door, waiting for you. As soon as you were by him, he opened it.

It was snowing outside now. Thick white flakes drifted from the heavens to settle in a seamless blanket on the ground. It looked like something out of a fairy tale.

There was nobody in sight, and the snow dampened all sounds. Grief weighed heavy in your heart, and fear stayed your tongue. Kurouno’s bodily warmth was a bittersweet comfort, and you leaned into you despite what he had done earlier. There would no doubt be bruises tomorrow. Next to you, Overhaul sighed once more, as if this was all such a tedious chore.

“So much for just light snowfall. Our kitty will be too cold to bathe immediately when we get home”, Kai lamented. Your heart clenched at the pet name he used for you.

Hari shifted you in his gasp and added to the conversation:

“We can still get rid of the clothing and pump their stomach until they are warm enough. Perhaps we should also replenish their electrolytes and scrub their skin before washing. Leaving them alone when they are so emotionally fragile like this would only be detrimental. This sweetheart here needs to be comforted, and brought back on the right path with the carrot and the stick.”

“You are right at that. Let us go now and fast. I don’t want to waste anymore time at this disgusting place.”

Your story was a fairy tale in ways, yet it was one of the older, gruesome ones, where a happy ending was anything but guaranteed.

#yandere overhaul #yandere kai chisaki #yandere chrono #yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere x reader #yandere #x reader

35 notes · View notes