#anyway thanks to anyone who reads this trash

[kawaiiiuniverssse]

Surprise

Shadow and Sonic had been together for a while now, so Shadow was used to staying the night occasionally. He loved being able to lay down next to his boyfriend; to hold and cherish his presence, for his face to be the first thing he saw when he awoke in the morning.

So it was a bit of a surprise when Shadow awoke in the dead of night, only to find the bed empty beside him.

“…Sonic?” He called out, still groggy with sleep. But there was no answer. It was then that Shadow picked up on a muffled sound coming from behind Sonic’s slightly ajar bathroom door. Was that… retching? Gagging?

In a flash Shadow was at the bathroom door, making his way in to check on his boyfriend. On the floor, hunched over the toilet, was the Blue Blur himself.

“Ugh…” He weakly let out as his retching paused.

Shadow was immediately by his side. “What happened, Sonic? Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, just-“, Sonic replied, -“woke up all of a sudden and felt… ugh- sick…”, before he once again started throwing up. Shadow gently stroked his boyfriend’s back as he continued to retch and gag. Before long, Sonic was sitting up straighter as he flushed the toilet.

Shadow kept his hand on Sonic’s back all the while. “Feeling better?” He asked.

“Yeah, just… ugh- got a terrible taste in my mouth,” Sonic complained, still weak from throwing up so much. With the sudden wave of nausea seemingly gone, Shadow helped his boyfriend to his feet, then helped him to the sink so he could rinse his mouth out.

Still worried about his boyfriend, a question left Shadow’s mouth before he realized he was saying it. “Are you going to be ok?”

“Yeah…” Sonic replied. “I’m just exhausted now… that took a lot out of me… Heh… Must’ve been something I ate…” he chuckled lightly, despite the tiredness in his eyes.

Shadow didn’t hesitate as he gently swooped his boyfriend into his arms, and began carrying him back to bed. Sonic, too drained to complain, leaned into Shadow’s touch, almost whining when he was put down on the soft sheets.

“Just rest now, love,” Shadow whispered to Sonic as he kissed his forehead. He closed his eyes and waited for Shadow to get into the bed, looking forward to being held. But he opened them back up when he heard the bedroom door creak.

“Where are you going…?” Sonic weakly called out.

“I’m going to get you a glass of water in case you need it later.” Shadow said, sensing his boyfriend’s distress, he reassured him, “Don’t worry, dearest. I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks, Shads…” Came the tired reply.

Once out of the room, Shadow headed to the kitchen to get a glass of water, as well as some aspirin for Sonic. He filled the glass, careful not to make too much noise. He doubted Tails was asleep; he knew the little fox was probably still in his workshop tinkering away, but he was quiet nonetheless.

When Shadow returns to Sonic’s room, he’s greeted with the pleasant sight of an already snoozing hedgehog. He sets the water and aspirin on the nightstand for Sonic, before crawling into bed. He ensures his boyfriend is well covered and gently snuggles up to him. He grabs Sonic’s hand and tenderly holds it, and it isn’t long before Shadow is asleep.

-

The next night, they unfortunately find themselves in the same situation.

“Ugh… this sucks…” Sonic groaned, hunched over the toilet once again.

As he had been the previous night, Shadow rubbed his boyfriend’s back, attempting to soothe him. “I thought you said you felt better today.”

“I did… It just- ugh… happened all of a sudden again…” Sonic explained, his energy once again drained.

“Maybe it was something you had for dinner?” Shadow thought out loud.

“But we’ve been… eating the same stuff we always eat,” Sonic said, frustrated that he had no clue what had made him so sick.

“Well,” Shadow hummed, “Maybe you’ve caught a bug then?”

“Hmm… could be…” Sonic thought as he moved to flush the toilet.

“We’ll just have to keep an eye on it if that’s the case,” Shadow replied. “Come on, let’s get you back to bed.”

“Hold on,” Sonic said as he rose from the floor, “Let me rinse my mouth first.”

Shadow helped his boyfriend to the sink, and then once again, helped Sonic to bed. After a kiss good night, and mumbling “I love you”s, Shadow settled down next to his boyfriend, holding him tightly like he had the previous night.

As he tried to fall asleep he wracked his mind, trying to think of why Sonic had been sick the past couple of days. He supposed he shouldn't think too hard about it, it was probably just a stomach bug, as he’d said earlier. Mind content for now, he gave Sonic one last squeeze goodnight. And as he fell asleep with Sonic in his arms, he reassured himself that there was nothing to worry about. After all, Sonic would be better in a couple of days.

-

Sonic was not better in a couple of days. His nausea had returned, just as persistent each night as the last. Shadow initially thought that Sonic had caught a stomach bug, but he quickly realized that couldn’t be the case. Sonic would be fine all day, and then, out of nowhere, he’d be throwing up.

Their next best guess as to what was happening was food poisoning. After all, Sonic was only getting sick after they went to bed for the night; they figured it must be something he’d been eating for dinner. But like Sonic said, they’d been eating the same stuff they always ate. Nothing out of the ordinary that should be making Sonic so sick every night.

Shadow wracked his brain looking for an explanation. Was Sonic having an allergic reaction to something? Maybe he’d developed a sudden intolerance for something they’d been eating? Unlikely, but certainly not impossible. There was just no way for either of them to tell. They just couldn’t pinpoint anything that should be making Sonic so sick.

They were at a loss until one night, several weeks after everything had first started when the truth finally came to light.

-

“This… is officially… the worst…” Sonic mused as he leaned back against Shadow, weak from so much retching. He was given a few seconds of relief before he was right back where he started, holding onto the bowl of the toilet as he threw up.

Shadow’s hand was on Sonic’s back, as it had been every time they found themselves in this situation. He continued to gently rub his boyfriend’s back and shoulders. As Sonic continued to throw up, Shadow let his mind wander, trying to find a logical reason this would still be happening.

After weeks with no improvements, Shadow suggested that Sonic have Tails check him out; do some scans, take some samples, and maybe even a blood test if necessary. Tails agreed and let his brother know it would be no big deal, even easy since he had all the medical equipment they needed in his lab. But Sonic had refused. Despite throwing up violently nearly every morning, he still insisted he was ok. What Shadow was seeing now was proof enough that Sonic was wrong.

When Sonic sat back again, panting heavily, Shadow stayed silent, continuing to rub his boyfriend’s back. After what felt like a lifetime, Sonic finally stopped throwing up. He rested on his knees, trying to regain some of his strength. Before long, Shadow found himself asking, “Is it gone?”

“I… think so…” Sonic said weakly, leaning back into Shadow’s arms. “I just… ugh… wish this wasn’t happening…

Shadow responded with a kiss to his beloved’s forehead, wrapping his hands around the blue hedgehog’s waist to hold him. Sonic sighed and relaxed in Shadow’s embrace, enjoying the warmth and comfort his boyfriend was providing.

Sonic was so still for so long, that Shadow could have sworn his boyfriend had fallen asleep. His breaths were nice and deep, and he hadn’t moved a bit, which was quite uncharacteristic of him. Shadow smiled, nothing but love and sympathy in his heart. But just when he was considering using chaos control to get them back to bed, Sonic started shifting.

“Ngh…” he grunted, using his arms to push himself into a sitting position. “Help me to the sink…?” He asked, turning to Shadow as his arms fell from his waist.

Shadow nodded and made sure Sonic was braced steadily before rising. As he stood, he held out his hands to the hero, who grabbed them weakly. Shadow slowly helped hoist Sonic to his own two feet, before helping him make it the few steps over to the bathroom sink.

Once there, Sonic slowly bent down to rinse his mouth out. Shadow waited patiently, hands still helping keep his boyfriend steady. Once Sonic was done, he slowly lifted back up, grabbing a towel to wipe the water from his face. And to Shadow’s surprise, when the towel was lowered, he found a small smile gracing Sonic’s face, a small chuckle also making itself known.

“Are you alright?” Shadow questioned. “What’s so funny?”

“Heh, nothing just- thinking about w-what you said earlier this w-week.” He said as he continued to laugh weakly.

“What did I say?” Shadow asked.

“That I should l-lay off the chili dogs,” Sonic said as he began to laugh a little louder. “And- and you were right. They taste t-terrible when they come back up!”

Shadow began to chuckle along with his boyfriend. “That’s disgusting, Sonic.” He let out, trying his best to suppress his laughter.

Sonic gave him a knowing look, which only made Shadow laugh more. They continued to laugh together until Sonic swayed on his feet, suddenly lightheaded. “Easy there, hedgehog,” Shadow cooed as his hands once again returned to Sonic to steady him. “You ok, there?”

Sonic grabbed onto Shadow with one hand, bringing his other up to hold his head. “Y-yeah. Just got… a little dizzy there. Heh… D-do you mind if we… sit back down? The room is- starting to spin again… A-another wave might be coming…”

Slowly and steadily, Shadow helped lower his boyfriend back to the bathroom floor, where he again joined him. Sonic this time opted to lay his head in Shadow’s lap. So Shadow stroked Sonic’s head, running his hands through his boyfriend’s quills in a comforting manner. “Take all the time you need.” He said as the two once again sat in silence.

Shadow again comforted his boyfriend, making sure he was as comfortable as he could be. As they sat waiting for Sonic’s dizziness to disparate, he finally let out a sympathetic hum. “I think it’s time we take you to the doctor, love.”

“You… kidding?” Sonic huffed, still trying to keep his jokester attitude even though his energy was drained once again. “I-I’m fine, Shads. S’ just… ugh… just a virus or something…”

“If it was a virus you would’ve been over it by now; it’s been nearly a month since this started.” Shadow pointed out. “I’m worried about you, Sonic…”

“Aww… d-don’t worry, Shads! It’ll take more than a… a little virus to keep me d-down!” Sonic quipped back, letting out a weak laugh.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Shadow replied, a smug smile forming on his face. “You are on the floor right now.” He chuckled.

“H-hey!” Sonic playfully tapped his leg, trying not to laugh, “D-don’t be rude!”

The two laughed together again, Sonic’s head bouncing against Shadow’s leg as they did. Shadow grabbed his boyfriend’s hand, giving him a reassuring squeeze, and Sonic squeezed back as their laughter began to subside. To Shadow’s surprise, he couldn’t help but notice that Sonic was still shaking. He looked down, and it was then that he discovered tears forming in his boyfriend’s eyes. “Oh, Sonic…” he cooed, reaching down to wipe the tears away. “Don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of this eventually.”

But Sonic didn’t respond, he was now hunched over on himself, breathing even heavier than before. He now had Shadow’s hand in a vice grip, which alarmed his boyfriend even more. Shadow leaned forward, trying to get a good look at his boyfriend’s face. “Sonic?” He tried again.

“Ngh… ah!” Sonic whined, his face now taking on a painful expression. “S-shadow…”

“What’s wrong? Sonic, are you ok?” He asked, worry starting to grip him.

“I… agh!” Sonic barked out, letting Shadow know that he was not ok. “S-somethings not right…” He hissed, hunching further in on himself.

“W-what do you mean, Sonic? Tell me what’s wrong!” Shadow pleaded, now starting to panic as he attempted to pull his boyfriend in close. “Sonic! Talk to me!”

It was then Sonic let out a guttural scream. “AGHHHHHHHH!!!” He cried, his voice piercing through the silence of the otherwise quiet household. Tears freely ran down his face as he continued to shake in Shadow’s arms, trying to find comfort in his boyfriend’s presence.

But Shadow’s blood had run cold; he’d never heard his boyfriend scream like that before. Even throughout all the years fighting by his side; through all the injuries he’d gotten in battle. He’d always shaken things off, insisting they looked worse than they were. Alarms blared in Shadow’s mind as he recounted the past weeks. How much pain had Sonic actually been in? How much worse were things than what the blue hedgehog had told him?

All of a sudden, Sonic stopped shaking, his grip on Shadow’s hand finally releasing as he fell into silence. “Sonic… S-Sonic…?!” Shadow pleaded, trying to rouse the blue hedgehog. Sonic, who was now lying limp in his boyfriend’s arms, gave no response.

Shadow sat in shock. What had just happened? Had Sonic just had a seizure? A heart attack? He knew he should’ve done more, and made sure Sonic went and got the help he needed. Was this his fault?

Shadow shook his head; he was in full panic mode now. At a loss, with tears now in his own eyes, he did the only thing his panicked mind could think of, desperate to save his boyfriend.

“MILES!! HELP!!!”

-

Tails had been working on a new project, and he was proud to say it was coming along nicely. After multiple nonstop hours of work in his workshop, his stomach finally made itself known with a loud growl.

Tails checked the time, only to find that he had worked well into the early hours of the morning once again. Darn it. He had promised Sonic he would try to be better about his sleep schedule, especially since Sonic had been getting sick lately.

Oh well, nothing he could do about it now, he supposed. Might as well get some food before he headed off to his room. He tidied up his workspace a little and tried to wipe the grease from his hands to no avail. With a groan, he headed out of his workshop and made his way to the kitchen to wash his hands.

He was scrubbing the oil and grease from his hands, pondering what to grab as a quick snack, when an anguished yell that sent shivers down his spine rang out.

He must’ve jumped a foot in the air and accidentally splashed water everywhere. He quickly turned off the water and whipped around, scared out of his mind. Who could blame him? It was the dead of night, he wasn’t exactly expecting to hear screams right now.

But he did recognize the voice as his brother’s; he must’ve been sick again. But that yell sounded like Sonic was in pain… And a lot of it... Something was wrong, Tails could feel it. He was already heading towards his brother’s room when he heard Shadow’s distressed voice ring out as well.

“MILES!!! HELP!!!”

Tails didn’t have to be told twice. He skipped the stairs entirely, opting to fly up to their home’s second floor. “I’M COMING, SHADOW!” He yelled as he raced down the hall to Sonic’s room. He hoped Sonic was ok, but Shadow was there to help. He would know what to do. He always did.

At least that’s what he told himself as he swung open the door to Sonic’s room. After flicking on the lights and being met with the sight of an empty bed, his head whipped towards Sonic’s connected bathroom. He ran across the room as fast as he could, throwing the bathroom door open.

But nothing could’ve prepared him for the sight he was met with. On the floor was his brother, lying there unconscious. Shadow was beside him, tears in his eyes. “SONIC? SONIC!!” He yelled out, trying to wake his boyfriend to no avail.

“Shadow!” Tails said, bending down to his brother. “What happened?!”

“I- I don’t know! One minute we were laughing and- and the next he just- just- started straining and screaming in pain! And then he just- collapsed! I don’t know what happened, I-“

“Shadow!” Tails shouted as he grabbed Shadow by the shoulders. “You need to calm down! Sonic will be ok, but you have to help me get him to my lab! Can you carry him?”

“Y-yes,” Shadow took a deep breath. “Yes, let’s go. Quickly.” He said, taking Sonic in his arms and getting to his feet.

“W-wait, Shadow!” Tails grabbed him by the arm, stopping him before he could speed off to the lab. “What… what’s that…?”

Tails pointed to the ground where Sonic had been lying. Shadow had been so distressed, so focused on waking Sonic up that he hadn’t even noticed what had happened. A small pool of blood now occupied the space the blue hedgehog had just been in. But that wasn’t the only thing that was there.

“Oh my Gaia…” Shadow whispered, not quite believing what he was seeing. “Tails… grab it. Just- be careful…”

Tails did as Shadow said. He carefully scooped up the small… thing… before getting slowly back to his feet. Shadow nodded, and together they raced off to Tails’ lab, Sonic still unconscious in his boyfriend’s arms.

-

As Sonic came back into consciousness, he could hear a faint beeping. “Ugh… What- what happened…?” He mumbled, not yet opening his eyes. He took a moment to collect himself, and when he did open his eyes, he was met with the sight of the med ward in Tails’ lab.

‘How did I get in here?’ He wondered. As he slowly sat up, he realized he was on one of the medical cots. He tried getting up but looked down when he felt some resistance. He found an IV in his arm keeping him from getting very far, and it was then that he realized the beeping was coming from a machine he was hooked up to, keeping track of his heart rate.

‘This doesn’t make any sense,’ he thought. ‘Last I remember I was getting sick in the bathroom, and Shadow was helping me with my nausea. I must’ve passed out… or something…’ His thoughts trailed off as he heard a frantic but quiet chatter coming from outside the room.

Deciding he wanted answers, Sonic unhooked himself from the IV and the machines and made his way to the doorway. In another part of the lab, he could see Shadow nervously pacing back and forth as he muttered, with Tails seemingly studying something he couldn’t see.

“Shadow? Tails?” He softly called out, “ Is everything ok?” Both heads whipped up immediately, and in an instant, Sonic had his brother at his side.

“Sonic! What are you doing up?” Tails exclaimed, seemingly panicked as he put an arm around his brother to support him. “You should be resting!”

“I’m fine, Tails, don’t worry! Just got a little sick is all; I should be better soon!” He laughed. Before he could even register what was happening, Shadow surged forward and captured him in a shaky embrace.

“SONIC! I’m so sorry! I-if I had known this would happen I- I-“ Shadow shouted, seemingly on the verge of hyperventilating, tears forming in his eyes.

Sonic took his boyfriend by the hands. “Woah, woah, easy there, Shads!” He soothed. “Calm down a little! What are you even talking about?”

“Just breathe, Shadow,” said Tails, bringing his free hand to the hedgehog’s shoulder. “It’s gonna be ok.” Shadow took the fox’s advice, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths to calm his nerves.

“Guys, guys!” Sonic chided, confused as to why his brother and boyfriend were freaking out so much. “I’m ok! Don’t you think this is a little excessive for me just passing out?”

“You didn’t… just pass out though…” Tails muttered gently, nervously looking to Shadow.

The blue hedgehog sighed, exasperated, “I know, I know, I was throwing up too, but guys-“

“That’s… not what he’s talking about Sonic…” Shadow said softly. He was so quiet that Sonic almost missed it. “Sonic, we- I… need to show you something…” He said, nervously meeting Sonic’s eyes.

It was then, looking into Shadow’s terrified, tear-filled eyes that Sonic realized something seriously significant must have happened after he lost consciousness. “I… yeah, just- just lead the way…” He said, now finding himself nervous for reasons still unknown to him.

Shadow and Tails shared a look, and then started making their way over to where Tails had been earlier. Sonic could feel Shadow subtlety shaking as he led him by the hand, and after a few tense, silent moments, they had reached their destination.

Sonic’s eyes went wide as he took in what was sitting before them. On Tails’ desk, with a blanket swaddled around its base, sat an egg. A pretty sizable one too. And Sonic could tell just by looks that this was no normal egg; it was unlike anything he’d ever seen.

Confusion evident in his voice, he asked, “Um… what is that exactly? And where did it come from?”

After a few moments of silence, he got his answer.

“It’s an egg Sonic…” Shadow said, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand tight. “And it... it came from you…”

[jawz]

i saw the tv glow is legitimately one of the stupidest, most tryhard movies i've ever seen in my entire life. absolute dogshit. and everyone is pretending it's the most lifechanging thing they've ever seen LOL give me a break! the gall to claim this is inspired by fucking DAVID LYNCH??? i can't

[heavy-buddy]

having most of your mutuals be anti military when you have a veteran for a father is insane

[bread--quest]

It's 2012 somewhere. Welcome.... to Night Vale Tumblr.

👁️ nvcr-official

Hi guys! I'm Intern Sarah! Excited to be joining you all!

👁️ nvcr-official

To the friends and family of Intern Sarah, she was a good intern and social media manager, and we are sorry to see her go. We will work to find a new intern as soon as possible.

83 notes

🦉 dark-owl-records

CALL OUT POST FOR CECIL PALMER

hes gotten away with shit for too long and im sick of it. tl;dr horrific intern mistreatment with no compensation, mountain denier, homophobic

keep reading

❌ number-one-moonhater Follow

Hey uh. Aren't you a company account? Why are you posting this

🦉 dark-owl-records

L + ratio + god forbid women do anything + your music taste is trash

🙈 seesomethingsaynothing Follow

Isn't Cecil literally gay?

🦉 dark-owl-records

he's homophobic

🪼 jeebyfish Follow

he has a husband...

🦉 dark-owl-records

yeah and he won't fucking shut up about it

2,500 notes

🤫 cecils-private-blog

Carlos hasn't liked any of my woodcarving posts in THREE DAYS!! I'm so scared what if he's going to break up with me :((

👁️ nvcr-official

Cecil he's your husband he's not breaking up with you. also this isn't a private blog you just put private in the url

🤫 cecils-private-blog

HOW DID YOU SEE THIS

4 notes

🏜️ sandeater Follow

tamika flynn spotted in ralph's dairy aisle "slaying" the milk

🦂 scorpiansscuttle Follow

op i know this is a joke but one time i was in the ralphs dairy aisle and there was some butter up on a really high shelf and someone said "don't worry, i'll get it" and i turned around and it was fucking tamika flynn

☁️ average-weather-enjoyer Follow

fake story :/

📚 isurvivedthesummerreadingprogram

No it's true I was there

🚂 traintonowhere Follow

TAMIKA FLYNN??

🏜️ sandeater Follow

what the fuck is happening on my post

8,345 notes

👁️ nvcr-official

can you guys please stop sending cecil weird shit... i don't want to have to explain to my boss what a dilf is

27 notes

🐚 mariella-shella

Hey guys!! Sorry for the lack of posts recently! I entered a hole in the wall and when I got out I realized I didn't know how long I'd been in there, or where I was, or who I am, and I'm not sure that I'm still the person who entered that hole however long ago. Anyway, the normal posting schedule will resume as soon as I remember what my normal posting schedule was, and if I'm still the person who had that posting schedule!

🌪️ sandstorm-gf Follow

omg mariella!!! missed u so much girl glad ur back!

🐚 mariella-shella

i miss me too

42 notes

😎 Anonymous asked: Response to the homophobic allegations?

🎙️ cecilpalmer

Huh??

🎙️ cecilpalmer

@nvcr-official What does this mean? Is it new slang?

👁️ nvcr-official

uhhhh dont worry about it buddy

50 notes

🧤 missy-mittens Follow

hey guys im in quarantine for eating wheat and wheat byproducts uh...send asks?? i might be in here for a while lmaooo

🧤 missy-mittens Follow

oh lights in the sky its been 5 years since i made this post

☁️ glowcloudapologist Follow

how's it going op

🧤 missy-mittens Follow

i miss my family

506 notes

🐚 mariella-shella Follow

hey if anyone remembers anything about the person running this blog can you tell me? trying to recover the fragments of my identity from the void of memory lol

🥔 potato-enthusiast Follow

you were really hot

🐚 mariella-shella Follow

FUCK YEAHHHHHH

89 notes

🦉 a-weird-bird Follow

just a reminder that new residents of east night vale are fully welcome to interact with this blog!!!! you will not be harassed and any hate will be blocked. this blog is safe even if this town isn't sometimes <3

🌻 sunflowergirl Follow

This is so sweet, thank you so much! Just so you know, even though it's officially called East Night Vale now, a lot of people still call it Desert Bluffs! Just thought you might want to know :)

🦉 a-weird-bird Follow

i'm not calling it that sorry

🌻 sunflowergirl Follow

What??? Why??

🦉 a-weird-bird Follow

just kind of sucks. as a name

🌻 sunflowergirl Follow

?????????

170 notes

🐄

⬜️ kentuckymeatshower_deactivated11051983

what does this mean....

🌌 cece-xeze Follow

another great post from huntokar herself

16,683 notes

🚁 helicopters-in-your-area Follow

🌲 little-miss-ectoplasm Follow

you don't like pine cliff? 👻 oo ooo?

👁️ nvcr-official

NIGHT VALE SWEEEEEP

806 notes

😁 the-happy-smiler Follow

Hi everyone!! Since Twitter went down, I figured I'd try my hand at this Tumblr thing! I'm so excited to meet all of you!! Hope you're ready for some pictures of CENTIPEDES!! Feel free to AMA about the Smiling God!

👁️ nvcr-official

I

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N

🎙️ cecilpalmer

T

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E

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R

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L

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R

21,983 notes

[screamin-abt-haikyuu]

You're jealous but you can't do anything because you're not dating him (Part 7) - Wakatoshi Ushijima

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Pairing: Ushijima x Fem! reader

Genre: Angst to fluff

Warnings: none, really? Reader calls him Toshi.

Requested by: @ushisrever

A/N: Can't believe I posted the last update to this more than two years ago. Has it really been that long???? The incomplete series has been bothering me for two years now lmao. Didn't think I'd ever find a fitting scenario for Ushiwaka but thanks to @dira333 helping me sound off some ideas, I was able to get that perfect "snap!" you get when you fit a puzzle piece in perfectly. Gave me enough brain juice to write this out before going back into hibernation.

Serving you some fresh, hot angst and then some lol. Enjoy the burn and then the healing. For someone who was as far removed from Ushiwaka (emotionally) as one can, writing this actually made me see him in a new light. Loved writing him. Hopefully, it stays as true to his canon nature as it can. Hopefully I don't trash this before it's out💀 but if you're reading this, it's good lol.

It feels like the entire Shiratorizawa is at the gates of the school.

"I can't believe she's coming to our school!"

"AAA I can't stop imagining how she'll look in our school uniform."

"Do you think she already has a boyfriend? Maybe I have a chance?"

"I don't know about a boyfriend but you certainly don't have a chance with her."

"Must you always be so cruel?!"

"If you think a star child actor who has made it so big in the industry is going to date a simpleton like you, you're delusional."

You sigh, annoyed, as you try to make your way through the babbling crowd. You're already late for your morning classes and you couldn't care any less about Hoshiko Nakamura. Or any celebrity for that matter.

"In fact, I don't think any boy in this school has a chance with her. Hmm... except maybe Ushiwaka? Not that he'd be interested in dating her anyway. Sometimes I feel like that guy doesn't have any emotions at all."

Your ears perk up at the Ace's name.

Wakatoshi Ushijima has become somewhat of a celebrity at school ever since he was selected for the under 19 representative for Japan in the Youth World Championship.

He was already well known as the formidable volleyball player who crushes any team that he takes on. However, his serious and stoic nature has kept most people from approaching him. Till now, at least.

The girl was right. Wakatoshi wouldn't even think about dating anyone. You seem fairly sure of that. However, the suggestion still leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

You're wrong about him not having any emotions you think as you finally break free from the crowd and sprint towards your classroom.

You've known Wakatoshi for as long as you can remember. You remember when his family moved into the house next to yours when you were just little kids. You remember watching the reserved, determined figure of the boy practicing volleyball all by himself in the nearby park. You remember going up to him and offering to play with him. Out of all these memories, the most vivid of them all was the way his eyes subtly lit up when you said you wanted to play with him.

Time has blurred into a haze since then. Even though you both went to different schools all through junior and middle school years, you both kept alive the tradition of playing volleyball together in park.

"You should come to Shiratorizawa," he had said that fateful day. You both were in the last year of middle school. It was a beautiful evening as you both walked back home from the park, the setting sun throwing hues of red and gold across the partially cloudy sky.

"That's not in my hands. I tried in middle school, remember? I want Shiratorizawa but Shiratorizawa doesn't seem to want me," you said, kicking a pebble on the road. Funny how I could say the same about you.

"That was three years ago. You have grown," he said without pause.

"We'll see. I don't want to get my hopes too high. You know just as well as I do that they give preference to athletes over normal students like me. Casual volleyball games with you are just about as sporty as I get," you said as you reached out to open the gate to your home.

You turned to say goodbye to him and found him looking at you, his expression more serious than usual.

"It's not about athleticism."

"Shiratorizawa only accepts the best. Be it volleyball or anything else. I believe you fit into that category. You should come," he says, looking straight into your eyes.

Your stomach flutters. How could he have so much faith in you? There is no doubt that he believes in you because Wakatoshi Ushijima always means what he says. Almost 5 years of knowing him had taught you that. You still found it hard to digest, though.

"I'll try my best, I promise."

"I know you will."

"Class, please give a warm welcome your new classmate, Hoshiko Nakamura!"

You can't help but gawk at her. Saying she is pretty would be a severe understatement. If she looks pretty on screen, it is nothing compared to what she looks like off screen. You look at your desk partner to see if he is thinking the same. Wakatoshi, however, seems to simply be listening to the teacher.

"Miss Nakamura, I'm sure you will have no problem settling in here. To kind of help you settle in this new environment, I was thinking of seating you next to Ushijima as I believe you two have met before at some of the national events."

The teacher might as well have thrown a bus at you and it would have felt just about the same as you do now.

Hoshiko's face lights up. "That would be great. Wakatoshi-kun has always been a delight to be with. Thank you for having me," she says and bows.

Did she just call him by his first name?

"Ah, Y/N, sorry for springing this on you so suddenly. I wanted to get a hold of you before morning class but couldn't. I hope it's not a problem," the teacher says.

You force a polite smile. "It's not a problem at all," you say and start packing your bag.

Hoshiko walks up to the desk and waits patiently for you to gather your stuff, thanking you again.

Your legs feel heavy as you take the empty seat diagonal to them in the adjacent row.

I'm panicking for no reason. They just know each other from an event. It makes sense to make her sit with a familiar and safe person, given her popularity. Yes, Wakatoshi is definitely the ideal choice in this scenario. He is not someone who would be creepy in any sense. He's also strong and intimidating so it would keep the creeps away. It's fine. It'll be fine. Nothing is going to happen between them... right?

"Wakatoshi-kun, I'm so glad I got to sit next to you," she says, smiling at him, speaking loud enough for people sitting nearby to hear.

"Actually, if I'm being honest, when I decided to come back to my hometown to complete my studies, I knew I wanted to go to Shiratorizawa immediately," she continues.

"Of course. Shiratorizawa is the best school in the prefecture. It's only natural to want to study here," Ushijima says, completely seriously.

Hoshiko blushes. "Ah... that is not what I meant... nevermind," she says, causing the guy behind them to burst into laughter.

It seems like the hollow sensation growing in your stomach is here to stay.

It has been two months since the day Hoshiko joined your school. With Ushijima going to school earlier than usual and practicing late into the night for the Inter High preliminaries, he hasn't been able to spend much time with you lately. Normally, this wouldn't have bothered you because you could see him in class everyday but with Hoshiko now taking your place, you barely get to say more than hi to him.

However, with the prelims now over and the upcoming week-long break ahead, you're hoping to get some one-on-one time with him once again. All these years with him have made him such an intrinsic part of your daily life that it feels like something big is missing when he's not around. To the world, Wakatoshi Ushijima might be a lot of things. But to you, Wakatoshi Ushijima is home. He is comfort. He is strength. He is someone that you know like the back of your own hand. He is someone that your heart always keeps coming back to. He is the only love you have ever known.

You know that he doesn't share the same feelings for you. But that doesn't stop your heart from longing for him.

The lessons for the day are over and you walk back to your class, eager to pack your bag and go home with Ushijima. You wonder if he'll want to go to the park in the evening.

"She's asking him out! She's asking him out!"

"No WAY! I am SO jealous."

A small crowd has gathered around the window and they're whispering amongst themselves as they look outside.

"Man, that Ushiwaka is so lucky! He gets to date the most beautiful girl in the entire country."

"I mean… he is in the nation's top 3 aces and an under 19 representative of Japan. Not to mention he's tall and strong and good looking. They're actually perfect for each other."

Your heart drops down to your feet.

You look out the window and find yourself looking at Hoshiko and Ushijima standing a ways away from the school building. They're in a quiet, secluded spot and Hoshiko seems to be blushing as she says something to him. You see him nod and say something in return. Hoshiko's face lights up in pure delight and even though they are at a distance, you can hear the joy in her voice.

"No way!!!! He said yes?? I thought he wasn't interested in girls!"

"Goddamn it! There goes my chance!"

You feel dizzy as you watch the two of them walk back to school together.

No. This can't be. You have always known that he doesn't like you that way. But you thought he wasn't interested in dating at all.

No. You shouldn't make any assumptions just yet. These gossip mongers are messing with your head. For all you know, he could have said yes to being in a show or something. You shouldn't despair before you hear the truth from him.

You blink back your tears and run to your class. Thankfully, it's empty. You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself and wait. Both of them soon appear in the hallway. The crowd surrounds them instantly, wanting to drown them in questions but Ushijima breaks away from them easily and walks towards the class. He comes up to you.

"Y/N. I'm sorry I won't be able to come to the park today."

It's true.

"Hoshiko and I are going to watch this new movie playing at the theatre-"

He's going on a date with her.

"Apparently it has a lot of volleyball in it-"

He's going on a date with h-

"You should join us."

Huh?

"What?"

"I figured you might like it since you play volleyball with me even though you don't play it otherwise."

What? What? What?? What is happening right now??

Ushijima patiently waits for your answer.

"Uh... Whose idea was it to go to the movie?"

"Nakamura's. Why?"

"And how did she bring up the idea?"

"Well, I was returning from the club and she asked to speak to me in private. And then she told me about the movie and if I wanted to watch it with her."

He didn't get it.

"Ah... Toshi... I'm pretty sure she was asking you out on a date."

His eyes widen with surprise.

"A... date? But she never said she had romantic feelings for me."

Could this mean...? Can I hope...?

"Well, her asking you out on the date was her way of saying it."

"I see. I didn't realise. Thank you for telling me. In that case, I should tell her my feelings for her as well."

He has feelings for her.

Your heart shatters.

You're glad that he walks out right away because you couldn't have stopped your tears from coming out even if you wanted to. You run out of the back door, desperate to get far away.

I guess I was the problem all this time. I just wasn't someone you could look at that way.

You had always known that. You had always known that he didn't feel for you the way you did. But that hadn't stopped you from falling for him. Hard. How could you have not? Eight years of knowing him... You didn't even realise when you fell for him. Loving him just came so naturally to you.

Logically, it makes sense. They make sense. She is beautiful and tall and smart. And so is he. They are the type of couple who would be featured on the cover of a magazine. Which, given their career trajectories, is bound to happen sooner or later.

But the heart doesn't care for logic and at this moment you feel like it will actually burst from the amount of pain you're feeling.

You spend the rest of the evening and the entire night crying in your room.

Morning comes and you feel worse than ever. Your head is throbbing, your nose is stuffy and your eyes are swollen. You decide to skip school. It's the last day before break anyway. Maybe this break will be good for you. It will give you some time to adjust to everything and compose yourself.

You go back to bed and sleep through the entire day.

You thought you'd feel better after getting some rest but you still feel like shit.

You drag yourself out of bed. Your entire body feels like it weighs ten times more.

Maybe a shower and some fresh air will do you good.

You head out.

No matter how much you try to think of something else, your mind keeps coming back to him. Your eyes keep searching for him. You look in the direction of his room. The curtains are open and you can see it is empty.

Of course he's not home yet. He's probably out with her again.

Even though it's barely a minute away, you feel exhausted by the time you reach the park. Thankfully, it is empty.

You sit on one of the swings and look around. Most of your memories with Ushijima are tied to this park. This is where you both have spent the majority of your last eight years together.

All the sweet memories make you tear up again.

"You didn't come to school today."

You were so lost in your head that you didn't realise when he walked up to you. You blink back your tears.

"Oh... hi. Yeah, I - I wasn't feeling very well today," you say, not meeting his eye.

"You seem upset."

He noticed.

"Oh... I'm fine. Really. It's just been a rough day. It's nothing to worry about," you say, still evading his gaze.

He sits on the swing next to you. You look to the side and see he has a volleyball in his lap.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You quickly avert your gaze again.

"No."

"I see. Well, would you like me to distract you? Talk about something else?"

It is getting harder to keep your tears in check. You're sure your voice will crack if you speak. You just nod.

"You would've liked the movie. It wasn't as focused on volleyball as Nakamura said it would-"

Great. He's chosen the worst topic he could have talked about. You don't want to hear about his date. You need to change the topic. Quickly.

"What are you doing here?" you blurt out the one question that has been weighing on your mind ever since he came here.

"What do you mean? I came here to play volleyball with you."

"I- I mean... I thought you would spend your free time with Ho-Hoshiko from now."

"Why would I do that?"

"B- because you're d-dating her?" Your voice cracks.

"I am not dating Nakamura."

What?

"What do you mean you're not dating her? I thought you liked her. Didn't you go on a date with her yesterday?"

"I do like her. Just not romantically. And no, I went to watch the movie with Tendou. She had already bought the tickets so I bought them from her. I wanted to watch it with you but you went home. "

"But... you left to tell her your feelings for her..."

"I did. I wanted to clarify that I only feel for her as a friend. It was only thanks to you that I was able to tell her in time before I ended up hurting her unintentionally."

"I...see..."

Relief floods your heart. You suddenly feel a hundred pounds lighter. You finally gather the courage to look at him. He is looking right back at you.

"Can I ask you something?" you say, your lower lip trembling.

"Of course."

"Do you have romantic feelings for anyone?"

You instantly regret speaking up as soon as the question leaves your mouth. You know he never lies. And if he doesn't feel the same w-

"Yes. You."

You stare at him blankly.

It's subtle but his expression has changed from completely serious to something a little softer. You can't quite place what it is. Is it concern? nervousness? Adoration?

"R-really? You like me? Romantically?"

"Yes."

"Since when?"

"Ah," he rubs his chin, "I'm not sure..."

You're still having difficulty believing that any of this is real.

"You know," he continues, "After my father, you were the first person who ever wanted to play with me."

He points towards the corner of the park. "I was practicing against that wall that day when you came up to me. Do you remember?"

"Of course I remember. I can never forget that day."

"So many people have come and gone from my life but you have been with me for so long that, I guess somewhere along the way I just assumed you would stay forever. Which, I now realise, I shouldn't have."

He feels the same. He has always felt the same.

"Toshi?"

He turns to you again.

"I love you."

He breaks into a soft smile.

"I love you too."

Holyshit this was a ride. I'm glad I wrote this and I hope you guys enjoy.

Reblogs appreciated. Please do not steal or repost.

Taglist: @pinkiipeachiikeen @duckymcdoorknob @kakiwrites @ebiharachan @r0binscript I wasn't sure if you guys still want to be tagged for this series, seeing that it has been over two years so let me know if you want me to remove you from the taglist.

Check out THIS POST to know what all characters I have written for in this series.

MASTERLISTS | If you enjoy my work and want to, you can Buy me a Kofi!

[etherealstar-writes]

I WANNA BE YOURS | LIONESSES X READER | PT 6

pairings: lionesses x reader

summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.

part: six

part one here

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

yourusername: a little photo dump

yourbestiesusername: i'm really proud of that first pic i took of you, i'm coming for your career

↳ yourusername: oi photography's my thing, go find another career

lucybronze: this is cute. you are really beautiful! ❤️

↳ yourusername: OMG NO WAY TYSM!! you're amazing ilysm!!

↳ lucybronze: thank you! @ yourusername

usera omg. the REAL lucy bronze commented on your post!!

↳ yourusername i am not okay rn

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM

the imposter

YOU GUYS

GUESS WHAT OMG

the REAL karate kid

what happened?

lotte

is everything alright?

the imposter

NO EVERYTHING IS NOT OKAY

neev

you're kinda scaring me now

the imposter

i know i'm not a woso fan yet

bcuz i'm still incredibly uncultured

and literally don't know anyone yet

elton

yeah we know

the imposter

BUT LUCY BRONZE COMMENTED ON MY POST

I AM SCREAMING

the REAL karate kid

WHAT

neev

WOAH WOAH

hold on

stairway

that old grandma can actually use insta??

rusty metal

OI

that is so rude and offensive!

to that old grandma ....

the REAL karate kid

SHUT UP

rusty metal

the disrespect children have nowadays

unbelievable

well i'm glad she made your day y/n <3

the imposter

thank you!!!

i'm gonna go thrive in my happiness for the

rest of my life for a celebrity noticing me

peace out

lotte

well i'm glad she's happy

willybum

i need to up my game now

the REAL karate kid

me too

stairway

y'all are such simps

neev

says one of the simps herself

stairway

shut up niamh

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM

brightness

you know

i just remembered that y/n is still in here

and we don't know like anything about her

at all

door knob

oh yeah

we only know her name

the imposter

i literally only kinda know your names

and that is it

neev

she got a point there

the imposter

honestly i don't get why i'm even still in this chat

not that i'm complaining

stairway

you've been fun to talk to these past few weeks

unlike most of the people on this group chat

who simply decide to ignore their notifications

elton

yeah fr

i didn't feel the need to make a new chat tbh

the imposter

i'm honoured?

elton

you should be

the imposter

uh okay ...

well

i'm 22

i'm a pro photographer and media editor/manager

and uhh i live in london?

idk what else to say tbh

stairway

photography's so cool!

the imposter

thank you!

earpsy

is toone being 10x more annoying

because i'm sick or?

the REAL karate kid

nah she's just that annoying

elton

now that is just rude

willybum

she has an encylcopedia on

how to be annoying

elton

STOP SAYING THAT WORD

wait

guys

neev

oh no

willybum

today on stupid stuff toone is going to say!

elton

oi! i'm not stupid!

the REAL karate kid

you literally thought germany started with j

elton

I WAS UNDER PRESSURE OKAY

anyway as i was about to say

isn't it crazy to think that the money you have

has probably been or could be in like

a stripper's bra or underwear at some point

the REAL karate kid

why does your brain function this way 😭

stairway

wait a sec-

....

she has a point

neev

STOP 😭

that is ALL what i'm gonna think about now

the imposter

never touching cash again that's for sure 😭

willybum

donating all my cash to the trash now

lotte

oh my days

why

just why

meado

WHAT DID I JUST READ 😭😭

part seven here

[mischiefmaker615]

You're So Dark (1 of 2)

Summary/Inspiration: Arctic Monkeys - "You're So Dark" Song

Requester: @kathren1sky-blog

Note: Happy Spooky Season! 

~Oh dear.. longer than i thought Lol thank you for the request! my mind seemed to have utilized the coffee XD

Rating: R

“your out of the dress code again.’’

You cast a glance over your shoulder at your supervisor who kept walking, knowing it was an endless battle where you would just keep showing up with your black makeup on. Right down to your choker that stayed comfortably tight around your neck, you told yourself they should be grateful you even bothered putting on the SHIELD uniform on today.

Halloween was upon you all, just at the end of this week and you thought there was nothing wrong with getting into the spirit things.. even if you were the only one celebrating. Then again.. you practically celebrated every day..

You took walks in cemeteries, isolated with your dark romance books and rocked the black ‘everything’ look no matter what occasion. What was wrong with you? You weren’t sure how to answer that when people asked, though they didn’t stay long for an answer. Not many people talked to you at work- anywhere.. they might assume you looked like you didn’t want to be bothered. Needless to say, that didn’t stop the eyes that would stare, one sharper than the others while you worked about in your environment- oblivious and innocent.

Loki often roamed around the tower in silence, sometimes reading outside his room on a good day. You thought his mysterious and quiet side was an invitation to find something in common, but whenever you would work up the guts to even think about approaching, he vanished. Yes, he was real. Yet seemed to not stay long whenever you were around.

Perhaps he thought you were weird, like the rest. His taste in company was rather picky. Hella picky. At least it didn’t mess with your usual ‘lone self’ routine. Quite recently you caught him at work, roaming around still and looking down his nose while some agents babbled on about a job we all knew he wasn’t going to accept. At least looking like he was trying bought him time here before Fury would realize he could care less about paying off his ‘community service.’

‘’trick or treat’’ one of your coworkers snickered past you, earning a glare while you did your best to be as polite in the work place as possible.

‘’fuck off.’’ Failed.

Maybe it was better to not talk to anyone, they seemed to be all the same anyway and you enjoyed your secluded cubical where you didn’t seem to get bothered.. that is, until you turned the corner.

You stopped short to find Loki lounging in your roller chair, ankles crossed while a lazy arm roamed around your items you had on the desk- décor and trinkets you somehow got away with by your bosses whom looked the other way as long as you did a good job.

‘’to my understanding, you humans don’t tend to take an interest in the remains once flesh has been removed. Shall I locate the trash bin?” Loki asked innocently, his eyes not even looking up at you while he turned your raven skull in his hand curiously.

‘’no-!’’ you gasped, stopping yourself short once his teasing eyes flicked up at you, making you glare and try to lower your voice as you stepped more into your cube, having to stand since a certain someone was in your chair. ‘’it’s décor.. safe to keep.’’

‘’and your interested in things like this?” he asked, not a tone of judgement in his voice while his eyes seemed to study you, mainly below your neck as you crossed your arms, somehow the choker feeling a little bit tighter.

‘’well.. yes- why waste something that won’t deteriorate? Any fascination of- no- never mind.. can I help you?” you shake your head, trying to figure out why he was here and not babble like an idiot. He probably didn’t care about all this anyway and would think your weird just like all the rest if you kept talking.

‘’you could very much help me darling,’’ he smirked as he set the skull down and uncrossed his legs, manspreading while his fingers laced together in front of him. ‘’but I’m sure we have to keep things professional around here.’’

You blinked at him, trying to take in what was happening right now. Did he just.. suggest an innuendo? The man who seemed to vanish every time you were around and yet here he was, in your chair, messing with your stuff and suggesting something sexual? ‘’..I don’t underst-‘’

‘’of course you don’t, not by word from mouth darling. Yet I’m sure you would perfectly understand it if it was written down.’’ He smirked and stood up, his height making itself highly aware while you tilted your eyes up at him.

‘’I’m.. sorry-‘’

‘’you enjoy books darling, is that correct? I’ve come to offer you an opportunity to gaze upon a selection of mine that may poke your interest.’’ He said calmly, his eyes almost finding themselves distracted as your arms tightened in their fold against your chest, the material somehow getting itch the more he stared while you opened your mouth to make an attempt to guess what he was talking about.

‘’are you talking about.. bo-‘’

‘’books.’’

‘’books! Of course!’’ you laughed sheepishly, your social awkwardness dripping out as you rubbed the back of your neck. Of course he wasn’t talking about anything sexual- Loki was well known to be stuck behind a book,.. but.. ‘’how do you know I enjoy books?”

‘’the quiet Midgardians tend to find themselves partaking in activities that send them anywhere else but here. Due to the fact that we also share the same living arrangements at the Iron Idiot’s domain, I figured.. we might as well get along.’’

By gods.. was he reaching out to try to be friends? You? Him? your brow raised more, waiting as if for the punchline where he would then turn this into a joke, leave like the rest and allow you to inherit the title ‘weird’ all over again. The more you watched him, the longer a conversation about books felt weird- because of you.

‘’er- sure!’’ you said almost to excitedly while your eyes dropped to the ground, your hands meeting in front of you to play with your sleeves while you started over. ‘’-I get off at 5:00, I’ll meet you at 6:00?”

‘’I would guess you know where my chambers are?” he hummed.

‘’yes.’’ You cut yourself short, hoping it wasn’t weird you knew where it was considering it was a big tower but you shifted in your stance and looked up, just to find Loki had gotten closer, making your eternal insides jump.

‘’then I shall see you at 6:00, I do hope you find something that.. matches your interests..’’ his voice got lower, looking down his nose at you while the tip of your shoes practically touched his. ‘’Y/N.’’

‘’hm?- oh yes of course.. I’m sure I can find something..’’ you said quickly, hating the fact you thought your name had been a question rather than him finishing his current sentence. Geez why were you like this.. no wonder you kept to yourself. But the amused look in his eyes seemed to ease you out of the pain while you tilted your head more up at him.

‘’Y/N?” he hummed, his voice almost at a whisper, almost as if he were testing your name on his tongue.

‘’yes?-‘’

‘’might I get by?” he smirked, clearly amused at your eternal suffering in this moment as your eyes rounded and quickly moved to the side, your body sideways to let him slide while your cheeks reddened.

‘’of course.. sorry-‘’

You heard an exhale of a chuckle as he turned his body every so slightly to pass by you, his side still managing to rub against yours, almost lingering before he disappeared out of your cubical.

You were so grateful you judged the chair correctly while you plopped down into it without looking, your brain obviously racing at what had just happened right now.

‘’6:00..’’ you whispered, almost having small doubts whether it was a good idea or not before your eyes moved back to the computer screen.

~

Somehow walking past a cemetery seemed a lot more comforting than the walk down the halls towards Loki’s room. Were you being rude? He was reaching out- in his own sort of way- to try to make friends and here you were wanting to retreat in your dark and secluded territory of your bedroom. You loved books, it obviously gained his interest compared to what the others had to offer- which he seemed to already dismiss considering it was the other Avengers in the tower. The strange thing about it was.. you don’t remember bringing your books out of your room to really give Loki an opportunity to know you loved them.. how did he know?

No going back now, you lifted your eyes to find you stood right outside his door. After having taken a quick shower, the choker was back on your neck- ripped jeans with fishnets beneath them and a black, oversize sweater. There was no goal here, it was all purely comfort and an outfit most people didn’t try to understand while they looked down their nose and called you goth.

You.. supposed? You liked particular things, you’ve always considering yourself different, but you weren’t sure if there was quite a label out there for you. You were just.. you. And you seemed to have peeked the interest somehow from a particular god of mischief whose door opened just as you had raised a hand to knock.

‘’right on time darling, I quite admire that.’’ Loki purred, a sly smile on his lips as his eyes dipped below your neck to take you in, eventually coming back up to meet your eyes. ‘’do come in.’’

A small part of the brain in these situations will always nag you, telling you no or reconsider- second guess. Most people choose to ignore it, which meant a small part of you fit in with the others and chose to step in without hesitation.

No sooner did the door close was when you felt a slender hand make contact with mild harshness in your ass, causing you to yelp more in surprise and quicken a step forward before you spun around to face Loki.

His hands clasped behind his back, looking rather proud of himself while he smirked at your wide-eyed face.

‘’what the hell??”

‘’don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that darling, you don’t exactly hide your sexual wants.’’ He chuckled, his voice seductively low while he took a step forward.

You instinctually took a step back, your hands raised to hover by your chest, almost as if ready to strike out if needed while your tried to muster up rage that never came. ‘’what are you- you have no right to do something like that!”

‘’what do you wish for me to do darling? Apologize?” he asked with such innocence, he almost seemed to shrug while he spoke. ‘’I regret nothing, and I dare say you want me to do it again..’’ with another step forward, you took a step back, feeling the redness on your cheeks while a mild sting reminded you of the not-so-long-ago events.

‘’t-that’s not why I came here-‘’

‘’ah, so you wish to make another appointment so we could do such things?’’ he teased and waved a hand to indicate behind you, making you glance to what he was referring at before you felt him press to your side, an arm wrapping around your shoulder to guide you himself. ‘’the books I spoke of are right over here, I’m sure you’ll find quite the selection- some you most likely have already indulged in. your Midgardian literature has quite an interesting taste’’ he told you simply, acting as if everything were normal while your body tensed and for some reason, let him guide you to the library along the wall.

It was huge- from bottom to ceiling there were books! Of course someone his height probably didn’t need a ladder but you probably would struggle getting something from the top while your eyes lifted to scan them all. You felt him slowly step away, taking a stance behind you while your eyes tried to focus ahead, feeling his hand slide away from your side, taking his time until his finger tips eventually vanished as well.

‘’you have.. quite the collection..’’ you offered, hoping to begin the journey away from what had just happened while you practically felt his eyes on you from behind.

‘’I’m sure you recognize a few, go on, take a better look..’’ you felt his hand return to your lower back, your feet jumping to take the initiative to get closer rather than wait for him to push. Something was going on.. something not right..

He was always quite, kept to himself and observant.. any conversation you did seem to catch amongst souls were very short, dry and boring. He clearly had no interest in talking with anyone- but right now, it seemed like he was hinting.. wanting.. waiting..

His hand slowly removed itself again, taking its time until his finger tips ghosted under your sweater before moving to his side again. ‘okay okay- just pick a book, be polite and be gone’ your mind told you, making your eyes search and scan quickly until your eyes fell upon a familiar title.

Maid to Honor.

Your eyes squinted, feeling yourself lean a little bit more while your hand rose to ghost over the spins of the books. Your head tilted every so slightly to read sideways while your eyes moved to read more.

Tears of a Mermaid.

You blinked. No.. there was no way.. it was a coincidence.. just to be sure, your eyes skipped a few books and landed on another on a different shelf, only to widen at yet another familiar title.

Ghost.

‘’these.. these are..’’

‘’yours, my love.’’ Loki smiled, having joined your side with his hands clasped behind his back while he scanned the books as well. ‘’each, and every one. Of course.. I took the liberty to convert your shorter stories- the one shots, if you so call them? Into more individual books.’’ He waved his hand more up the shelf, having you raise your eyes in horror to find thinner books but still with the same titles what read ‘Doctor, Love Potion, Sex Pollen, Dark Angel.’

You quickly took a step away, eyes widen while Loki tilted his head, watching you over his shoulder while you shook your head and gazed at the bookcase. ‘’no- no these aren’t-‘’

‘’come now darling, you are a brilliant writer, do not shorten your rights for credit’’ Loki chuckled and turned more to face you, waving a hand behind him at the books that seemed to mock your eyes. ‘’I will not be selling these, if that is what worries you. I simply just prefer it’s raw form rather than.. digital. However, I do check now and again encase your.. naughty mind comes up with anything else..’’ he smirked and you shook your head.

‘’I don’t know what your talking ab-‘’

‘’Y/Username? Ring any bells darling? Clarification is useless to be anyway, I can sense your denial as easily as a lie.’’ Loki chuckled, sighing as his eyes then began to roam again, undressing you with his eyes practically where you hugged your arms.

‘’you’re so dark.. and you’re so mysterious..’’ he whispered, a sly smile spreading over his lips as his eyes flicked up at yours again. ‘’or perhaps to everyone else. I quite find your mind.. alluring..’’

You weren’t going to waste time trying to convince him that wasn’t you. It was a lie anyway.. NO ONE on this damn green earth knew of your secret hobby, our pass time, your escape onto the internet where you wrote.. wrote about anyone you found attractive, any scenario you imaged being in or perhaps trying out some day.. but you nearly wanted to die when you had forgotten about a few stories you let star the famous Loki Laufeyson.

‘’it w-was a long time ago-‘’

‘’how long darling? You act as if you haven’t touched these novels in ages. No matter, I can tell you exactly the last time I’ve starred in your little.. fantasies..’’ he smirked and turned his back to you, a single finger gliding amongst the spines while you backed yourself up while he wasn’t looking towards the door. ‘’ah- this one,’’ he smirked and pulled out a smaller book, slipping a single page while his eyes scanned. ‘’it would seem it is not updated, taking place with my little encounter with your city New York.’’ He read, seeming to chotted a few notes down where he was reading.

Your hand reached behind you, keeping your eyes on him while he was distracted while your hand tried the door handle. ‘fuck- locked..’

‘’fuck, indeed.’’ Loki chuckled, the snap of the book getting your attention and having your attention back on him as he raised his eyes over to you. ‘’a word you so often like to use, under more meanings than one..’’

‘’stay out of my head..’’ you glared and he chuckled, turning his back with no concern while he put the book back in its proper place. ‘’oh darling, I recently discovered you like me being in your head..’’

‘’and upon my discovery just now, if your last publishing was when I starred in New York, dare I say your writing attractions revolved when I was.. cruel..’’ he smirked, eyes lazily turning back to you with no rush at all.

‘’it’s just writing- it doesn’t mean anything in real life- half those stories were merely requests by other people’s inter-‘’

‘’not all of them.’’ He interrupted with a finger pointing towards the ceiling, somehow silencing you.

‘’I’m quite flattered by this.. little community. Yet I have a point I truly need to clarify which you stated just now.’’ He said carefully, his hands behind his back once again while he took dangerous steps towards you. ‘’you said writing doesn’t mean anything in real life, that is where you are wrong.’’

You gave him an odd look, mixed with a warning as he drew near, feeling yourself press up against the locked door with your heart racing. What did he want.. why did he care.. were you truly some sick little fuck that inserted people into stories just for fun times? Was it a consent thing?

‘’when I struck your tight little ass, I could practically smell the arousal that sparked from you- deny it as you may.. that gorgeous little collar of yours- in which I would love to switch out for one of mine, just indicated you relish in the pressure it brings and tells me you enjoy being choked..’’ he rose a hand at this, making you flinch a little with your head turning to the side as if he was going to do just that, only to find him resting is flat against the door beside your head.

‘’you wish for people to leave you alone in this world only because you relish in the sweet escape of a book.. as most of us do, even I find myself guilty of the same thing. However, one day you found out why read when you could create your own worlds? Make anything happen? Anything possible? You dream of things to form into reality, but because you cant, this.. fan fiction, is the closest you can ever get to it.. and by such, you intertwine your real life between the very lines you type on the screen..’’ he smirked, his voice dangerously low to a whisper while his other hand moved to caress your side, his thumb ghosting under your sweater while he studied your reactions. ‘’you find me attractive.. my attention has neglected you so you find yourself pulling me into your fantasies..’’

His soft whispers could almost be heard beside your ear, your eyes wide as denial began to fade away and the cold truth causing you to shiver. You turned your face back to look at him, the tip of your nose almost brushing up against his while his eyes slowly dipped to look at your lips.

‘’but the best part of all this darling.. is all you had to do.. was ask..’’ 

PART TWO

~DM a song for your own Musical Mischief one shot! 

~Fan Fiction books/one shots were Cameos of my work that you can find on my Masterlist :) thank you for your support! 

Tag List: @foxherder13 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fire-in-her-veinz @nervouseden

[moderninfatuation]

I am totally interested in seeing how you write Leon Kennedy and Luis Serra (my two favorite male characters of the RE universe), but I don't think I can provide any interesting prompts. The most I can think of, right now, is either of those characters and how they would survive the apocalypse with the reader. But, that's a bit vague. Uhm, is Leon Kennedy meeting up with a scientist reader who's dedicated to finding a cure an interesting prompt? (Probably not, huh?) Or Luis Serra surviving with a reader who's holding him captive for some reason (like a reader that gives Ada wong vibes?)?

note: hello :) I do find your prompts interesting, but now I need to make sure I do your favorites justice >< let me know what you think! I definitely think I could describe the actual interaction between you and the characters more, but it always takes me so long to get to, so i might make just have to make a second part

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Scientist!Reader with Leon and Agent!Reader with Luis

characters: Leon S. Kennedy and Luis Sera, seperate

tags: sfw, agent!reader, scientist!reader, gn!reader, kidnapping, references to drugging

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Leon & Scientist!Reader

Finding a cure for anything within current times is hard, of course. If anyone is intelligent enough to realize that, it’s probably you. Once a junior scientist held in high esteem by one of the bigger pharmaceutical companies in the area, you’re now forced to dig through the rubble of what was once lined up office spaces and laboratories, the logo of the company you worked for looming over you from what is left of the buildings as if it were threatening to crash down on you one day. That doesn’t stop you from trying, however, much to the dismay of most of the people who used to be your higher ups. You feel like there is constantly someone on your back, just waiting for you to be careless so they can strike down your attempts to help - that is all you wanted to do, but it seems as if right now, helping earns you more enemies than it does allies.

Leon is among the very few individuals you trust enough to tag along. He found you, crawling through what was once a cooling room, the glass of what used to be syringes and test tubes crackling below your weight as you scour for anything that could be of use later. The place was positively trashed as the scene was fled just a few months ago during the initial outbreak, but you decided to come back anyway, always on the lookout for anything that moves and anything that breathes. You nearly passed out from the shock when suddenly, Leon stood behind you, telling you to raise your hands while you could only hear his heavy boots on the tiled floor and the click of his safety catch. It made the hairs on your nape stand.

It used to be a little hard to get a proper read on Leon. He was quiet at first, too busy keeping an eye on your surroundings as well as you while he was escorting you out of the building. What if you were infected after all? What if it is just an elaborate trap to get him out of the picture? There was always a shadow of suspicion following him around. However, you get it. They’re out to get you once you’ve seen too much, and you and Leon perfectly fit the picture. It gets easier to spend time around each other once the both of you let the realization sink in.

Ever since, you’re a duo like no other. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s a grown ass man, you’d say he’s attached to your hip; like a gun ready to be pulled when you’re in a tight spot. That is most he does when he follows you, actually: showing off his combat skills when it gets dicey. You’re thankful, of course, but you also managed to do it just fine on your own… or at least, that’s what you’d like to say. Truth is, you almost got your head crushed one or two times in the past because you were too focused on a gleam coming from a crack too tiny to put your arm in than on the dangerously tipped storage cabinet barely supported by said crack. Leon is just the guy for the job: holding up furniture, fighting off the infected, hell, ever since he’s warmed up to you, he even likes to joke around, hoping to get a laugh from you despite the differences in humor.

Leon can be stern with you, too. It doesn’t feel right to call it scolding, but he will furrow his brows and tell you to be more careful at even the slightest injury. He also insists on bandaging you up if things get bloody, not letting you do it yourself. If you push and complain hard enough, all he’ll do is raise his eyebrows in surprise, hold up his hands defensively and take a few steps back to let you do your thing - and to partially to keep himself from raising his voice. He would usually follow it up with a little quip too, just to defuse the tension, but also to see your reaction. His smug expression betrays him right before he drops the dreaded “Right, you’re the doctor-” before you have to remind him for what feels like the hundredth time that you’re not a doctor, as if the lack of a doctorate still matters now.

While he doesn’t know much about “science-stuff”, as he calls it, Leon knows enough to join the conversation. He likes to join you at your desk, asking questions and pointing at your equipment in the dark of the night, only illuminated by the wiry desk lamp and occasionally his flashlight when he gets bored. There have been times he fell asleep right next to you, too, snoring softly with his head hanging low and his lips slightly parted. He smiles gently and congratulates you with friendly shoulder bumps and pats on your back whenever you’ve made a new breakthrough or discovery in your research. His support is the most valuable you could get right now, especially since he’s competent enough to go out and get more supplies for you without, well, dying along the way. You have found your own kind of normalcy as the city around you gets rebuilt over time, a cure closer than it seems thanks to your sleepless nights and Leon’s eagerness to help. 

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Luis & Agent!Reader

You decided to take the harder path in life, it seems, but it was never really a decision, per se. You’re merely a product of your surroundings and circumstances… but it certainly was a decision when you took on your very first job to steal. It could just be a one time thing, right? A swipe of your hand when nobody seemed to look in exchange for cash that’s worth twice the amount of whatever you have to take. Your career took a dark turn once you realized that there is no coming back from the downward spiral that becomes clearer as your jobs go from theft to smuggling to assassination. So, the only solution is to keep going, to keep your head up high and to not look back. Let the paycheck distract you.

A new job you had the pleasure of coming across is significantly more risqué, but also rewarding like no other. Your enigmatic new ‘employer’, if you could even call it that, sends you out to kidnap someone in exchange for protection. Not a first, exactly, but something tells you this is much more serious than your previous jobs. Now here you are, brushing the dust from the abandoned factory building’s roof off of your shoulder as ex-Umbrella scientist Luis Sera sits in front of you, struggling against the bindings supposed to keep him still while the empty potato sack obscuring his vision muffles his grunts. Not his first kidnapping, judging by the way he doesn’t even try to call and scream for help.

Luis groans in confusion as his brain slowly recovers from the Rohypnol you used to make him pliant and easy to carry. His eyes get adjusted to the spotlight shining directly at him, and for a second, the both of you make eye contact. You step out of the way before the laptop you set up takes a picture of your newest (and only) captive, ready to send it to your boss. “Mierda…” is all you hear from Luis for a long time, slurred as he immediately looks around for any means of escape. Yes, this guy definitely has experience. But why him? Upon first look, he just looks like any other biologist you had to sneak past. Lab coat, eye rings, the stubble that comes once self care becomes luxury in the face of deadlines.

You’re quick to find out that Luis is talkative, effectively destroying one of the very few scientist stereotypes you were aware of. Some people talk just to calm their nerves, but if he does it for that reason, he’s very skilled at keeping up the facade of extroversion. Some attempts of “Care to tell me where we are?” followed by a quiet “Eh, not the talking type, I see…” before he goes silent again for… what, 5 minutes? You almost regret pulling the potato sack from his head. He even asks for a cigarette at some point, to which you scoff in reply.

Hours pass as you realize that you’re not here to scare him or to “get him out of the picture”, so to speak - you’re on a mission to hide him. You aren’t given more details by your boss, except that you should probably keep Luis tied up. You’re more open to conversation now that you know you’re stuck with him for… unspecified time. Once you give him some input on the current situation, leaning onto the shoddy table behind you to get comfortable, you see him relax visibly. “Ahh, so you can talk! Was getting afraid we didn’t speak the same language.” he teases, a smug expression decorating his face now. He seems like an entirely different person now. And the worst part? He sees right through you, despite your attempts to remain calm and quiet. “I’m starting to feel like I know more about this situation than you do…” The hint is all he needs to earn himself a glare over your shoulder as you hope for further instructions appearing on the screen in front of you.

Your hands are less than gentle after an hour of convincing that he won’t run off leads to you cutting open his bindings. “Thank you.” Is all he mumbles before standing up, idly wiping his thighs and stretching his legs. It isn’t exactly professional to deny the orders given to you, but he doesn’t seem like the type of guy to initiate fist fights. He runs circles in the small room, patting his jacket for a lighter and his pants for the cigarettes to match before lighting himself one, exhaling smoke into the cold air surrounding you. The evening continues like that. You can’t help but be… charmed by him and the way he hums to himself as well as by his useless attempts at conversation with you. He occasionally looks over your shoulder, nagging you with a “There’s a far more efficient way to use-” as he reaches out for your keyboard while you can only watch and rest. It’s not like he’s checking your messages or anything, right? Occasionally he wanders off too far, followed by the noise of metal on metal and the shuffling of feet as he explores the building, only to find his way back to you.

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[cyber-night]

Fyodor needs help sometimes even if he doesn't want it. No smut today, sorry :(

Content Warnings: Self-neglect, degradation, humiliation, (Neither of which are particularly "sexy" it's more just Fyodor being put in his place through his own stupidity), this... isn't healthy for Anyone...

You sigh as you look at Fyodors pill bottle. You'd recently put a cap on it that had a timer telling when it had last been opened. You suspected that he hadn't been taking his meds. The timer showed that it had been over two days since Fyodor had taken his medication, and even then, he only took it because you brought it to him.

You head up to his computer room where you find him hunched over his keyboard, typing away at lines of code. "Hey Fedya?" He hums as if he hears you but isn't listening. You continue anyway. "You haven't taken your meds in a few days... how are you feeling?"

"Fine," He says without looking up from typing. "When's the last time you got up to eat or use the bathroom?" You ask worriedly. Fyodor sighs. "I do not need you babying me. I can care for myself, you know." He says flatly. "You haven't taken your meds in two days... I worry about you. When's is the last time you slept in a bed and not at your desk?" He stops typing and pinches the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Not all of us get to sit around and do nothing you know some of us have actual work to do." This makes you pause irritation boiling under your skin. "Excuse me? I do plenty thank you very much. I'm the only one who does anything around here." You snap he has never been this expressly disrespectful to you. "You do nothing but annoy me and take me away from my work! I don't need your help! I realize you are too dumb to understand how important what I'm doing is, but you can at least have the decency to let me do it. As for what you do around here, you do nothing but take up space and money!" He snaps angrily you pause your eyes wide, all the times you've made sure he had water and tea as he worked, made sure he was eating, brought him food if he hadn't eaten yet, brought him his meds, all of that to him was simply an interruption? An irritation? Not to mention you took care of most of the chores, though he helped with a few such as the trash ...Fine then if that's how he saw it. "Very well, then I'll stop." You sat icily your eyes narrowed. "Since you will be fine without me helping, I'll leave you be." He seems pleased at that. "Good." Is all he says before he turns back to his monitors. You don't hesitate to turn and leave.

True to your words the next four? Maybe five days? You don't do anything for him. You knew when you two started dating, he needed something akin to a caretaker as he was oblivious to his own health, unable to feel hunger, thirst, or even exhaustion the way most do. It stemmed from his autism and you were willing to help him out of love for him. You never thought you'd have that affection thrown back at you in such a volatile way. You haven't seen him for a few days making no effort to seek him out.

You are sitting in the living room reading a book quietly when he stumbles in. He looks terrible. He hasn't showered in about two weeks at this point, hasn't had his meds in a week, and God knows when the last time he ate was. You only barely glance at him before returning to your book. You watch him lean against the counter as he makes his way to where his meds are stored. Once he get his hands on them, he looks at the caps timer, showing him its been almost a week since he's taken them. His hands shake as he struggles to open the pill bottle, the childproof cap, making it impossible for him when he's this weak. You watch him from over the edge of your book. He is genuinely struggling, but you can also tell he's putting on a bit of a show to garter pity from you to make you feel bad for leaving him to fend for himself. You don't give him any instead of going back to actually reading flipping the page. After quite a bit of time, he finally stumbles over to you and holds the bottle out to you. "Open this." He says gruffly. "You don't need my help. You should be fine." You say not looking up at him though you can see his hand trembling in your peripheral. Your words make him pause.

He tries to open the bottle again with no luck he stands there swaying slightly, his pride not letting him admit he was wrong or that he needs help. He tries to pull your book down, but he is too weak to succeed. You watch him sway again before he crumples at your feet, the pills bottle rolling away from him. You still don't look up from your book as you flip the page. If he wants anything from you, he needs to put his pride aside. He sits there, trembling at your feet for a few minutes before weakly whispering, "I'm sorry..." It's makes you laugh a little inside. "Pardon? I didn't hear what you said. Would you like to repeat that?" You ask without looking up from your book. "I'm sorry..." You nod. "Hmm, that's a start. What are you sorry for?" His eyes are unfocoused, and he's barely keeping himself upright. "I'm sorry for yelling at you."

"And?"

"...And I was wrong."

"About?"

"I was wrong, I do need you..." You nod again as you flip the page. "Yes, you do, don't you." He waits for a moment before he continues "...Are you going to help me now?" You laugh finally closing your book. "And why would I do that? You've done the bare minimum." Fyodors eyes widen, "please..." He whispers weakly. "Please, what?" You ask with a smirk as you watch him sway on his knees. "Convince me." He takes a shakey breath. I'm looking like he might cry. "Please help me... I feel like I'm going to pass out, and I can't... I can't take care of myself right now." You tilt his head back so you can observe him better. "It's almost a pity I have to put you back together... I kind of like you like this. Weak and pathetic, not that you aren't weak and pathetic normally, but... it's just you look pretty when your half way from deaths doorstep." He whines a hint of fear in his eyes. Sure, he could kill you with a touch, but the idea that he is weak and pathetic normally makes him uncomfortable. "I really should make you work for my help... but I'm feeling... Generous. So instead, I'll only make you beg. Sit back on your knees and put your hands up to your chest like a dog. I want to see you beg like one. After all, I have to care for you like a pet."

Fyodor shudders but does it his body barely stable for very long as he holds his hands up in an imitation of paws he looks at you, embarrassment evident in his face. "Good enough, I guess." You sigh idly, he whimeprs, letting his body relax so he doesn't fall further to the floor he rests his forehead on your knee. "Please~" He whispers meakly. Finally, you move him onto the couch and lay him down with a sigh.

You go get his meds, water, and soup since you don't trust him to keep solid food down right now. You come back to him asleep, and you almost feel bad about having to wake him up, but you know you need to. He needs to eat and drink. You carefully nudge him awake and set about nursing your brilliant moron of a boyfriend back to health. You wake him up not as gently as you usually would. You shove the pills into his mouth, then yank his head back and force him to drink, double tapping his cheek once he swallows. "T-thank you... my love..." You help him eat the soup since his hands tremble. "You wouldn't be in this mess if you simply listened to me, you know." You sigh as you pet his hair the soup bowl finally empty "If you had just been a good boyfriend and accepted my care you would fine, but no you have to be a selfish stubborn brat." He looks up at you with glassy eyes. "I'm sorry... I'll try and be better..."

You shake your head and sigh, carrying him to lay down in bed. A shower will have to wait till tomorrow. "Sleep, you can make it up to me tomorrow, Fedya." He nods and nuzzles into you, clinging to you out of anxiety that you'll abandon him again. You kiss his forehead as he drifts off.

[moonrisecoeur]

compliance (how to brainwash your boyfriend) — leon kennedy

author’s note: this was written with re4r!leon in mind bc that’s my boyfriend! angel said so!! i have… so many hypno ideas, some considerably more palatable and some that are Much Worse, so pls let me know if you want more! also this is based off of an audio i listened to once by everdistant-utopia on reddit! the headset concept is kind of (extremely) goofy but i was into it idk. again, i'm aware that mind control isn't real and this is a silly ass concept. i had fun doing it anyway. no leons were hurt in the making of this fic. sorry for not posting it sooner even tho it was done i was extremely embarrassed lol. pls ignore any typos. love you!! thank u!!

wc: 5k

content: sub!leon x fem!reader, afab reader, oral reader receiving, orgasm control, mention of feet for like two seconds

warning: this is dark content. please do not read if the following topics are sensitive to you: noncon, hypnosis, mind control. i dont endorse or encourage this type of behavior irl, its just a fantasy!

—

as you walk down the street, you walk by a flier that’s sitting on the sidewalk. you don’t stop to read it, but one word caught your eye. mind control. it was probably something stupid, something completely made up by some lunatic who thinks mind control is real. mind control is maybe, technically real, in the ‘just relax and close your eyes, breathe deeply and let yourself be at peace’ kind of way. definitely not the ‘put on this headset and let me rewire your brain to make you my pet’ kind of way.

but… would it really hurt to look at the flier? you turn around to see it’s still there, and, against all your better judgment, you decide to walk up to it and pick it up.

it’s dirty, wet because of the rain from last night. even still, you can read the description of the advertised product clearly, along with some more info like a website and contact info for the designers. you take a brief moment to wonder who in the hell comes up with that stuff.

introducing you to the ultra brainwasher headset 3000! perfect for all of your mind control needs! simply place the device over the subjected head and choose what you’d like to do with them. need an obedient housewife? in search of a new pet? want them to be madly in love and obsessed with you? all of that and more is possible with the ultra brainwasher headset 3000! visit our website and order the headset today!

you blink. this is insane. who would do this? who would make this? why would anyone want to make someone do any of this against their will? you feel sick to your stomach as you crumple up the flier and toss it in the nearest trash can.

because that’s… that’s not consensual. that’s wrong in every possible way. unless they gave consent to be, what, turned into an ‘obedient housewife’? that’s really what it said? there’s just no way that’s right. how is that legal to sell? what even was that flier doing?

this feels like the kind of thing that would be sold on the black market, not openly advertised to people on the street. what if some lunatic saw it and just started brainwashing people? no one could stop them, it’s not exactly a crime in and of itself, and any crimes committed would be a little difficult to report if the ‘subject’ was too mindless to notice or to say anything.

whatever. you threw the flier away, you did your job as a good samaritan by tossing it so someone much much worse than you wouldn’t get a chance to look at it, and thus, you can forget all about the headset. pretend you never saw the flier or knew it existed and carry on with your life.

except, you can’t really. it permeates your thoughts, seeps inside of your subconscious until you begin to hypothesize that the headset wasn’t the real hypnosis, it was seeing that flier. you know you must be delusional. it’s not real, you’re not really mind controlled from just reading the flier, but… would it really hurt it buy it? you had the money for it and it’s not too expensive at all.

you hate yourself for it but you look on the website, just as hypnotic as the flier was, and you see multiple variations of the headset. some more suited towards different outcomes for ‘subjects’ and some just different stylistically.

you find the one you were looking at earlier. the ultra brainwasher 3000. it’s a stupid name, you’re aware. it just doesn’t really matter because who’s gonna know that you own this? you’ll keep it, maybe try it out on yourself to see what it’s like. you won’t do anything crazy, maybe like, hypnotize yourself to not be able to sit down until all your household chores are done, just for the day. the ultra brainwasher 3000 claims to have this functionality, and you’re… more or less, curious.

you order it and spend two weeks in absolute hell, making sure your boyfriend is never home alone when the package could arrive. you’re not worried he’d open it and see the device. he doesn’t look through your stuff, but the packing sticker ‘brainmelting industrial company’ would…. catch his eye for sure. try explaining that to your boyfriend, especially because even if you’re a good liar, you’re not to leon.

but, you get it, and it’s perfect because leon isn’t home right now, and you get to play with your new toy for a little bit. the box is smaller than you expected, only including the headset, a charging cord, and a set of instructions.

as you’re reading, the thought only just now hits you. it’s surprising that it’s taken you this long to have this idea, given how it would be someone else’s first instinct.

“should i…” you murmur to yourself, looking around nervously to see if anyone is in earshot, “… should i use this on leon..?”

i don’t know, should you use a mind control headset on your poor boyfriend that was just sent on a mission to save the fucking president’s daughter? maybe not.

you don’t know how it took you this long to come up with the concept. i mean, the flier did mention making someone your obedient housewife, but… they never said that someone had to be a girl…

it’s gross or actually more disgusting, honestly, how excited you get at the prospect of doing this to leon, but you decide that yeah, fuck it, you might as well brainwash your boyfriend. truthfully, what are the consequences? besides… ruining your relationship, betraying his trust, destroying him as a person… eh, it’s only temporary, right? there’s ways to make it only temporary.. and there’s no way he’d remember..

you fiddle with it, curious of all the different things you could do to him. the headset didn’t have presets, you could make up literally anything you wanted him to believe. you could make him the obedient housewife, but you could also make him a servant, maybe even dress him up all pretty as a maid. you could make sure of his loyalty and commitment, make him be so in love with you that even the thought of being with another woman makes him physically ill.

he gets home later that night, worn down and tired and exhausted in every possible way. and you know you’re going to have to put on your best acting skills. you’re not sure if you’re ready to do this, but you’re gonna have to be, so you press a sweet kiss to his lips, one he lingers on for just a moment too long. his lips chase after yours as his eyes open back up slowly, looking at you through his pretty lashes, an eyebrow raised, “what?”

you can’t help but adore him, his bluntness and gruff attitude, yet how soft he touches your waist as he pulls you closer. leon is nothing if not gentle and sweet, and you love that about him, “nothing, i just… i just wanted to look at you,” you say, and it reminds you just how easy leon is. just a couple of words and his eyes get a little glassy, his heart leaping out of his chest just a bit.

it sometimes helps that your boyfriend has been through every form of hell since that day in raccoon city, so sometimes just sweet words and little gestures get a bigger reaction than you’d expect. he’s traumatized and broken down, so the love you give him matters so much more.

in short, he’s easy. he gives in quickly and doesn’t like to fight, not with you. gives you everything you want, doesn’t protest, doesn’t ask for much besides your attention and love.

“you always stare at me,” he says awkwardly. god he’s so not charming that it makes him effortlessly likable.

that’s what’s so sucky about the idea of hypnosis. do you lose the person he used to be? sure, a mindless househusband would be great, helplessly obedient and passive and hardworking, but does this override his actual personality? that’s a bit too scary.

you make an effort to soak in these parts of his personality, enjoying every inch of his pretty little mind. you decide that no matter what you do to him, you can’t ruin him completely. you’d miss his heart, rough and guarded but nonetheless yours.

“i wanna try something,” you murmur to him, your heart pounding a little more than it should, “do you trust me?”

“of course i do,” he says. your heart almost aches, he trusts you so implicitly.

“close your eyes,” you say, and he complies easily.

you step away to grab the headset, and he’s so sweet and good that he doesn’t even peek. you take a deep breath, and commit to it.

you place it on his head, and he grumbles, but doesn’t object. poor thing. doesn’t even realize what’s happening to him.

—

the setting on the headset that you chose wasn’t anything flashy but it was labeled ‘semi-permanent’ and it stated that the subject would not remember anything from the moment of hypnosis to the moment they wake up next. so, all and all, even if you felt horrible, the damage wouldn’t be permanent, and leon wouldn’t even remember what happened.

truthfully, it felt like nothing could go wrong. it wouldn’t alter him too much, just… make him helplessly obedient for a couple hours. you could turn up the intensity if you wanted to, if it wasn’t quite enough to satisfy your curiosity.

you decide that it’s now or never, especially since being lost in your head while your boyfriend is cluelessly wearing what looks like a vr headset is kind of… odd.

you start the application, waiting for it to begin on his end.

“what are you up to?” he asks innocently, probably still not seeing anything while it loads. the question sounds like an accusation, but it’s really not. leon genuinely just wants to know what’s going on. it’s hard not to, but you don’t answer.

you notice the exact moment that it starts because grunts out of nowhere and his whole body tenses, and he clutches onto the fabric of the couch cushions, using that sense as a way to ground himself during an overload of audio and visual stimulation.

you reach to grab his hand, and his grasps yours tightly, desperately, as if physically pleading with you to make it stop.

you whisper to him, “shhh, nice and easy,” you’re not even sure if he can hear you, but you still feel the need to speak. you’re not sure if it’s your voice or your touch but he relaxes just slightly, his breath raggedy and tense. he’s trying like hell to keep himself together, but it’s so overwhelming that it’s hard for him to think, “hey… it’s okay. you’re okay, just… let it happen.”

a pathetic little whimper escapes his throat as his body goes slack, jaw hanging open and arms hanging limply by his sides, “wha… why?” his voice sounds small, weak, and if you weren’t so cruel, you’d immediately take it all back and apologize and just face the consequences.

but you’re too far deep to back out now, even if leon’s pitiful demeanor is almost swaying you to stop, you know you can’t. not now.

“i… i thought you…” he whines, body tensing and spasming as he tries to put some form of coherent thought together, “wha… why..?” he whimpers again, pathetically broken down in just a matter of minutes.

you sit there with him, holding his hand, waiting for the process to be done, and once it is, you take the headset off.

he seems agitated, but doesn’t seem to know what at. his muscles are tense, but he doesn’t make any sudden movements.

“hey,” you mutter gently, and he almost flinches at the sound, looking at you with those wide deer eyes again, scared. you reach out to touch his face, fingers caressing his cheek.

the cogs in his brain turn as he processes what’s happening, and the agitation seems to evaporate and become replaced by a sense of calm and relaxation. he looks into your eyes, and it seems like he’s deciding something.

“leon?”

“yes? how… can i serve you?” he asks, jaw dropping at his own words. he’s so stunned at what he’s saying and how he’s acting yet he can’t help it.

“…address me as… ma’am,” you say, and he shivers, eyes closing tensely as he tries to figure out what the hell is going on, “and go get me something. how about… a cup of coffee? yeah, let’s start there.”

it makes sense that he’s fading in and out, the programming would probably need more time to settle in before it was done and his personality obviously wouldn’t just disappear, but it was still a little bit heartbreaking to watch him fight the voice in his head that is desperate to obey you.

as he disappears into the kitchen, you sit where he was sitting on the couch to take a moment to think it all over.

leon has never been the most… dominant man. he has his moments of aggression and tension that turn into a roughness that his soul seems to often carry, but it’s never controlling. he’s not demanding, he asks nothing of you besides gracing him with your presence.

but due to his past, submission also doesn’t come easy to him. he likes to think he would lean more sub, just because he’s so malleable to your will, so easy to convince. anything you want is yours, and if you want his dignity laid out in the palm of your hand, then it’s yours to keep for eternity. he just struggles to fully give up control, especially since you know he’s not really had much of that in his life.

you kept his personality intact for the most part, but… he just seems so different. he responds pretty much the same, talks the same, acts the same. something just doesn’t seem right.

“here’s the coffee you asked for,” he mutters when he returns, his voice gruff but soft at the same time. he’s… definitely conflicted. the implanted urge to obey you mindlessly and the natural urge to protect his self-respect are fighting in his head. you watch curiously to see which will win.

leon has been through hell, and you can always see it when you look into his eyes. he’s been controlled by the government, a puppet on their strings, since he survived that night in raccoon city. he must be used to a lack of control in his life. but now he’s your puppet, and you have no interest in using him as a killing machine. you have… different plans for him.

“thanks,” you whisper, and he nods, quiet but obedient. just how you wanted him. he stands there beside you, not really knowing what to do with himself as you take a sip, “rub my feet now.”

“..what?”

“you heard me,” you say. and he did.

something in his stomach sinks at the command, a feeling of urgency to do as you say fills his entire being, but it just feels so wrong to him. you’re never this brazen, this demanding.

“come on, leon,” you say, almost condescendingly, pointing to the floor right in front of the couch, “on… your… knees.”

he breathes shakily, but kneels down in front of you, avoiding eye contact as he gives you your damn foot massage. there’s turmoil in his head, easily seen by that deer-like look in his eyes as he stares wide-eyed at the ground. despite his roughness, he’s always had these soft, fragile eyes, reminding you of who he really is. it would be truly heartbreaking to watch him go through this if it also wasn’t incredibly attractive to put him on his knees and order him around.

leon has always been relatively compliant, but now it’s on a whole other level. anything you ask for, despite some inner conflict, he’ll do. you wonder just how far you could push him, but… you don’t decide to test that just yet.

for a few minutes, or however long it takes for you to finish your coffee, you sit there with him. his touch is good but not very skilled. he gets the tension and soreness out though, and you’re sure you could train that into him over time.

“take off your shirt,” you say, and his throws off his t-shirt easily. it lands in the corner unimportantly, and your smirk radiates confidence and something else much more sinister, “stand up, bend over in front of me.”

he closes his eyes tightly, clearly fighting that inner battle but the part of him desperate to get away and to not obey you is losing. he slowly rises to his feet and does as you ask. he places his hands on the coffee table, legs spread slightly like he already knows what’s about to happen. funny, because he doesn’t seem to know much of anything right now.

you stand up, hands touching all over him but particularly grasping at his ass, pulling down his sweatpants and boxers and enjoying the way his muscles flex, tightening and hardening when you grab him, “you never let me spank you,” you muse, almost annoyed, “i get it. you get nervous with power play and letting me dom you or whatever, but i always wanted to hit it just once. just to satisfy the curiosity of what it would be like.”

your hand pulls back and slams against his butt with a loud smacking noise. he gasps, breathing out shakily after the hit, “i… i’m sorry, ma’am.”

“but now that we’re here… and i’ve already got a taste, i don’t think i ever want to stop. so, from now on, no more of that. if i want to slap your ass, i’m going to,” you murmur, “and you will not try to stop me or convince me not to.”

“i.. i…” he whimpers, and for a second you pause, nervously that the real leon, somehow deep down, heard that, “… yes, ma’am.”

“good,” you mutter, slapping it again, feeling the hit in your hand as you pull away, and if you can feel it so clearly then you’re sure he can, “now, be polite and say ‘thank you’. thank me for teaching you how to correctly behave.”

“tha… thank you, ma’am,” he whispers, eyes shutting slowly as his deep inner need to resist is weakening.

“i own you now,” you groan, grasping at his hips posessively, mouth pressing open kisses to his bare shoulder, “no, i… have always owned you. owned your body, you just didn’t realize it.”

he nods, incredibly turned on. his body aches to be claimed, to be made yours.

sure, leon has always been yours, but his body has been purely his. he’s… cautious with it. he’s been more or less just too busy for romantic partners, but somehow you snuck your way into his life and he happily lets you stay. he just… is slowly learning to trust you with himself.

he can do easy, comfortable, casual sex. what he can’t do is hand himself over to you like this, helplessly obedient, submissive in every possible way. as much as leon doesn’t have the energy to fight, tired and worn down, fighting is all he know.

your nails drag against the skin of his torso and back, leaving pretty red lines wherever they go, “no more fighting. no more stressing about it. all you have to do is be mine, unequivocally.”

“i… i am..” he mumbles, and you tilt your head, eyeing him curiously. he notices, shying away, “i… i am yours. unequivocally. you can… you can have me.”

manhandling has always been a little difficult, considering leon is all muscle and he’s a sturdy guy, but you spin him at the hips to face you, and he’s effortlessly moved, “can i… have your body just as much as i have your heart?”

“yes, i… yes, ma’am, it’s yours. do whatever you want with it, ma’am,” he says, a slight daze in his eyes, clearly he’s not all the way there. he's trying. he’s still so soft, so tender and malleable, so leon.

you lean in to press a kiss to his lips, and he melts into your touch, hands grasping him roughly, in a way that might hurt anyone else, but leon is strong. sure, your touch is bruising him, but… he doesn’t have enough

of his mind left to be bothered.

lips trail down his neck and shoulder, but move back up to his ear, sucking on his skin in a vampiric manner. you whisper to him, “you’re gonna only focus on my pleasure.”

“i… i am? i… i am…” he stutters, god it’s so damn cute.

“of course you are. you’d rather eat me out than have an orgasm yourself, wouldn’t you? if i was a crueler person, i would find a way to mind control your orgasms away completely. that way you could… focus on my pleasure, but i’m not that mean.”

he shudders, your lips pressing to the sensitive spot underneath his ear, teeth dragging down his skin, teasing him, taunting him.

“you wanna eat now?” you ask, lips pressed to his collarbone now, and he moans out an affirmative. you suck a hickey against the skin right atop of the bone, admiring the redness, the way you get to watch it turn a disgusting shade of purple. one that should make you nervous to have done to him, only turns you on.

instead of ordering him into his knees this time, you just push him, easily putting his head between your legs. his hands come up to hold your thighs, steadying himself as you half-stand half-sit on the counter. he pulls your pants down enough , but can’t even be bothered to take off your panties, just pushing them to the side.

“can.. i, ma’am?”

you chuckle, not really expecting him to be so polite, “go for it, sweet thing.”

he leans in, pressing a teasing kiss to your clit, just once, before his tongue meets your folds and he licks and sucks like tomorrow won’t come but he’ll make sure you will. he groans into your pussy like he’s the one being pleasured, and that honestly seems like a fair comparison. sure, he was physically pleasing you, but even just the act of giving oral is making his head spin with a satisfaction he has never felt before. he could get high off of this.

leon has always been good at giving head. much better than just good. he’s incredible. it’s the one thing where he can fully just zone out. if you’re too lost in your own pleasure, then you can’t focus on him and how he’s feeling, and there’s something oddly safe about the feeling of being, for all intents and purposes, alone with his thoughts. eating your pussy just comes so natural that it’s second nature.

but now? he can’t get lost in his thoughts if he doesn’t have any. doesn’t mean he’s enjoying it any less. he’s enjoying anything you ask him to do. you could tell him to go fold your laundry and then clean your bathroom and do your dishes and he’s do everything diligently and he’d be satisfied the whole time. god, maybe you do really want a househusband. besides, leon could use the emotional break from his job. he’s content enough serving you.

he makes you cum sooner than you expected, but it’s literally just because he’s that good with his tongue, and when he moved one his hands from your thigh to press two fingers into your cunt, fingering you in thick circular motions as he sucked on your clit, you were gone.

he continues, wet fingers gushing in a fast rhythm as you orgasm, grinding against his mouth, using him completely for your own pleasure. it was always a secret fantasy of his, and now it’s reality, even if his mind isn’t all the way there and the only thoughts running through his head are is she pleased with me? did i do a good job? do i deserve her praise? i should do better next time. i should serve her better. i only want to serve her.

and now that he’s completely helpless, servitude being the only concept he can comprehend, and you come down from a high so intense it took you a second to remember that leon was waiting patiently for your next command, next order.

“put… put me on the couch…” you gasp out in heavy breaths.

he’s strong, and he helps to guide you to the couch, body still part paralyzed from such an intense pleasure. you lay there, still breathing a little heavy.

“go get dressed and cleaned up…” you mutter to him, “and then come back out here and cuddle up next to me.”

he does as you ask, finding his clothes and getting dressed again, and then when he approaches the couch again, you reach out your arms for him. the smile he gives you is almost too real. too… really leon. you still feel that twinge of nervousness in your gut, but then he lays against you, head tucked into the crook of your neck, and you know he doesn’t know. for all that he’s good at, leon’s not a great actor.

you reach your hand up to run your fingers through his hair repeatedly, soft and soothing motions to lull him into a state of compliance.

“you’re mine,” you whisper, hoping he’ll confirm it back.

of course he does, softly, no longer feeling conflicted, “yours, ma’am.”

“you’ll be obedient and submissive from now on,” your voice is soft but carries a dominance he doesn’t quite think he could ever escape nor would he ever want to.

“i’ll be.. obedient and submissive.”

“you’ll only focus on my pleasure,” you say, knowing he’ll repeat it back obediently just like the ones previous, but you feel his rock hard cock against your leg and as much as you want to shove his cock inside of you in an instant, you can’t help but want to control him like that. keep his orgasms just out of reach until he goes mad from the teasing and edging you plan to do to him. keep him nice and horny and desperate, just how you like him. if he wasn’t submissive enough for you before, he is now.

“only yours, only ever yours, please…” his voice is soft and meek and god if you wanted to you could find a mind control that was permanent and just… leave him like this forever. let him take care of your home and future kids and do your household chores and tasks. keep him completely obedient, god it would be…

“you can’t resist,” you whisper, leaning into his hair,

resting your head against his in a soft intimate moment, “i can’t resist, ma’am.”

you nod gently, and after a moment, you sigh, running your fingers through his hair, “i’m.. i love you, leon. sorry about all of this..”

“… why are you apologizing, ma’am?” he asks, tilting his head slightly even in your grasp to show confusion. he really is just like a little puppy sometimes.

“you know.. about the mind control.”

he shrugs, the most unbothered happy smile on his face, “oh, that’s.. that’s okay, i’m fine with it. i.. already belonged to you.”

“but that was in a more… romantic way. an ‘i belong with you’ kind of way. not the kind i did to you,” you say, just a tinge of guilt holding you back, but you push it aside, “it’s nothing, don’t worry about it. i just.. just know i love you. even when i’m ordering you around.”

“i’ll remember that, ma’am,” he smiles up at you just a little softer, just a little more like his true self, just a little more leon. that heavy feeling of guilt in your gut will never quite go away, will it?

you fall asleep on the couch together, knowing or maybe just hoping you’ll wake up to leon not remembering anything. hopefully he doesn’t piece together that he has no memory of you giving him that hickey and those bruises on his hips were definitely not his job's doing.

—

you wake up to a fond smell of breakfast and a bright morning, sitting up off the couch as you look at your phone. leon’s not laying there next to you, which is odd but not completely uncommon. sometimes he goes out in the morning to work out or disappears in the middle of the night when he’s needed somewhere, but most of the time, and today included, he’s just in the kitchen.

you find him there, standing in front of the coffee pot, and you walk up to him to wrap your arms around his midsection, softly burying your face into his back to shyly hide from his gaze.

“awh, morning lovebug,” his sweet raspy morning voice says to you, a hand on your arms, holding you tight so there’s not even a chance you could let go, “missed ya yesterday. did you sleep alright?”

“...mhm,” you hum, pressing a sweet kiss to his shoulder blade.

it’s a sweet moment, full of love and warmth and tenderness and you could have almost forgotten what you did to leon last night had the smell of coffee not been hanging in the air. but hey, at least he doesn’t remember what really happened, though he’s kind of confused just how he forgot how he got all of these bruises and scratches.

[dyns33]

The Big Nice Punisher

I never gave love to Frank and Frank only in a story so I decided to change that

Y/N should have gotten used to it, now that she was friends with Matt, Foggy and Karen.

It had happened several times that the devil of Hell's Kitchen had knocked on her window to ask for a medical kit since she knew his secret, even if the fool preferred to die in a trash rather than ask his friends for help.

It had taken everyone's intervention to force him to admit that he had a problem, and that he could count on them if he wasn't being chased by an army of ninjas.

More than stubborn, his priority was above all to ensure that he did not bring any danger into their home.

Karen wasn't Matt.

She didn't want her friends to be in danger either, but her moral compass was visibly broader, and allowed her to do more things.

Like coming to Y/N with the Punisher losing a lot of blood, asking if she could hide him for a few days and make sure he was still breathing.

Y/N had followed Frank Castle's trial on television, like the whole city. She had heard about all the people he had killed, but also the people he had saved. She had heard what happened to his wife and children. And above all, she had read in all the newspapers that he was dead.

“Can you explain to me or are you going to tell me it’s better if I know as little as possible ?” she asked as she helped Karen place him on her couch.

"Actually, I don't know. I found him like this when I came home from work. Your apartment was closer, excuse me. He doesn't want a hospital, for obvious reasons, and I was afraid he wouldn't manage to get to my place."

"Okay. Just promise me he won't jump on me when he wakes up."

“Frank is very nice, don’t worry.”

'Nice' probably wouldn't have been the first word Y/N, or anyone, would have used when talking about the Punisher, but Karen was pretty good at judging people, and that was out of the question to leave him to die anyway.

Even if she managed to see the good in him, it still seemed a bit exaggerated and even very optimistic that Karen would decide to leave Frank Castle unconscious in a stranger's house. She took the time to write a little note, telling Y/N that she could show him if he didn't trust her, but repeating that everything would be fine.

If he didn't have a reason to hurt her, he wouldn't hurt her. Really very reassuring.

Sure enough, the Punisher woke up in a panic as Y/N was making dinner, looking around with wary eyes and grimacing when he saw her. His first instinct was not to attack her but to try to flee, but his injury did not allow him to reach the door, his path ending in the middle of the living room.

“Karen warned me this would happen.” Y/N sighed, hesitating to put down her knife.

"Who are you ? Where am I ? Where is Karen ?"

“In order, I'm Y/N, you're at my house, and Karen had a job emergency so I'm babysitting for her.”

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter.” he groaned, holding his leg.

"Look, you don't want to be here, I'm not really happy about it either, but if you let me help you, you can leave quickly."

"I'm leaving now."

"Oh, no way ! I promised Karen I wouldn't let you die and I feel like you're just as stupid as Matt, so you're going to rest your ass on the couch, you're going to eat, then I'll see if you haven't reopened your wound !'

"… Yes Ma'am."

The terrible Punisher then began to look like a little lost dog, speaking little and accepting the plate that Y/N offered him, thanking her with a nod, his big black eyes following her as soon as she moved in the room.

He insisted that he could take care of his leg, but just one look made him shut up again, letting Y/N do what she wanted, since he obviously had no choice.

"I'm not a doctor, but between your broken ribs, the bullet that was in your leg, and the other marks on your body, I will say that it would be best for you to rest for a few days before you start punishing people again."

“No time to wait.”

"That wasn't a suggestion, doctor's orders."

“You just said you’re not a doctor.” he said with a smirk.

“I’ll tie you to the bed if I have to.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

In the end, his leg was causing him too much pain and Karen had forbidden him to move over the phone, it was decided that Frank Castle would stay with Y/N ​​for at least a week. He seemed to be the most annoyed by the situation.

Both women were right about him : he was nice, and he was like Matt. He didn't like asking for help, and he was afraid of putting innocent people in danger by his mere presence.

Yes, he had tried to find Karen when he was injured, but Karen knew how to defend herself, and he would have found a way to convince her to let him go. He didn’t know Y/N. He didn't like the idea of ​​intruding into her home, into her life, into her world, even if Red wasn't far away.

"I also know how to defend myself if necessary, Mr. Castle."

"Of course Miss. And it's Frank."

“I can do the dishes by myself too, Frank.”

“I have no doubt about that, but I’m squatting on your couch, it’s the least I can do.”

A week might not seem like much, but aside from her colleagues and the trio, Y/N didn't see many people. This daily proximity to Frank made the atmosphere strange.

He always spoke little, almost never about himself, hiding his wounds like a proud animal, but being interested in her, not missing an opportunity to help her around the apartment as a sign of gratitude, and listening to her talk about her days with patience and sympathy.

It was almost difficult when his condition allowed him to leave. They had gotten used to each other and the separation gave them as much pleasure as their meeting.

Still looking like a puppy who didn't know how to behave, Frank gave her his number, just in case, taking hers if he needed to check on her. He wouldn't call her for a favor, it wasn't like him.

Obviously, his style was to stop giving any news at all and to completely disappear from people's lives.

Y/N could try to understand. He was dead in the eyes of society, he had a complicated past, his main occupation was murdering criminals… But all the same, a little message from time to time wasn't complicated.

The worst part was that he was in contact with Karen. Her friend seemed surprised that he hadn't contacted her. According to her, Frank loved her very much.

"He's shy, that stupid man. I'll tell him to call you."

"No, that's not necessary. I'm glad to know he's okay."

"Don't be ridiculous, you want to talk. He also asked me about you, I should have known he would do that."

Y/N probably should have too, but because in hindsight she didn't see why someone like Frank Castle would want to keep in touch with her. She had been useful, nothing more. Next to Karen, beautiful, intelligent Karen who he had known for a long time, Y/N didn't stand a chance.

There was also his family, for whom he had sacrificed everything. If he was only "friends" with Karen, there had to be a reason and that was because he refused to betray his dead wife.

This enchanted parenthesis of a week had been nothing other than a parenthesis.

It was stupid to be so sad for a man she had only seen for a week. And yet, Y/N was sad. So sad that she didn't pay attention to the time while having a drink at Josie's.

No doubt she forgot that despite the presence of Daredevil, Hell's Kitchen remained a dangerous place. Matt couldn't be everywhere.

So it wouldn't have been a surprise when she was followed by two guys, who cornered her in an alley and threatened her with a knife so that she would give them her bag. Then one of them looked at her with a funny look and licked his lips, and she tried to run away.

Before they could touch her, the first one had his head smashed against the wall. The other screamed, trying to defend himself with his knife, but the weapon ended up in his leg, and he was knocked out with a punch.

Slowly so as not to frighten her further, Frank helped her up, checking her for injuries and returning her things.

"Are you alright ?"

"Yes. I was careless."

“Not your fault, sweetheart.”

"I guess we're even now." she tried to joke, while sobbing. Y/N hoped he would think it was because of the shock, and not because she thought she wouldn't see him again afterwards.

This didn't make him laugh. He looked at her with his sad, worried eyes, shyly rubbing her shoulder as he listened to her breathing, waiting for her to calm down.

Then still without a word, he took out his coat to put it on her shoulders before walking her home.

There, he only left her when she was sitting on the sofa, to go get her a glass of water, letting go of it when he was sure she was holding it well, and remaining kneeling on the floor right next to her.

"… Karen said you were angry. Because I didn't call." he whispered, his eyes stopping from staring at her for a second.

"Karen is talking nonsense. I'm a big girl, and you owed me nothing. Nothing at all. I was happy to help you, and stupid to think that… Thanks for saving me. You don't have to stay."

Silence returned, but Frank didn't move. He stayed until she finished her glass, then until she was done shaking and crying, his hand never leaving hers.

But he still didn't move. And in that moment, Y/N wondered if he too had been disappointed when their week together was over.

Maybe Karen was right, he was shy, and he didn't want to put her in danger by staying in contact with her. As stubborn and insufferable as Matthew. And also nice. Why else would he have been there to protect her ?

"It's not a good idea." he suddenly muttered, closing his eyes.

"What ?"

Frank sighed, seeing that she might cry again. He could have left right away, because he didn't think his presence was a good idea, and probably he was right. No doubt it was ridiculous to love the Punisher.

But continuing to mutter, he stood up slightly, pressing his forehead against hers. Now he held both hers hands, looking desperate, opening pleading eyes.

He couldn't stay, but that didn't mean he didn't want to more than anything in the world.

"It's not a good idea." he repeated, however, as if to force himself to move, to remember his course of action, and he was quickly on his feet, ready to leave.

“Frank…”

"No."

“Frank…”

The door was closed as quickly as it had been opened and in an instant Frank was there again, kissing her like a thirsty man who had just found an oasis in the middle of the desert.

But the moment was furtive, almost a mirage, because the soldier quickly shook his head, swearing and saying again that it really wasn't a good idea, before fleeing the apartment.

Y/N could have been mad at him for that. But she was too busy touching hers lips, thinking that if he had kissed her against his principles, maybe Frank Castle loved her enough to come back.

This idea stayed with her, after she received a message just before going to sleep. Simple message, which made her smile.

"I was happy too. You're not stupid. Good night."

Yes, they would probably see each other again. In secret, at times when she wouldn't expect to find him in her apartment. But she was a bit used to Matt, Foggy and Karen. This wouldn't be a problem at all.

[thursdaygxrls]

thin ice — four

part one | part two | part three | part four

summary — kitty is yet again dragged to a social gathering she would rather not attend. the bait this time? weed!

paring — uni hockey player!peter parker x fem!(journalist)!reader

disclaimer — who is expecting me to own peter parker by now?? bc i don’t

warnings — reader is referred to as ‘kitty,’ weed, slightly inexperienced reader (experienced peter, no smut yet im sorry), possible ooc

Days like these were the ones Kitty craved: hazy, chilly spring weather that resembled fall, except that dying leaves were replaced by cherry-red buds, and flowers bloomed through blades of grass. It was one of those days with no responsibilities to fill her precious hours—the ones that were spent scrolling through Pinterest and reading. She was stretched haphazardly along her bed, still dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt with holes in the armpits. The blinds were still closed, so the sudden beam of light next to her startled her.

“You love interrupting my dark-dwelling time,” she hissed as MJ entered the room. Sticking out her tongue, MJ closed the door behind her and sealed off the obnoxious light, much to Kitty’s relief.

“I’m sorry, my sun-hating princess,” MJ spoke dramatically as she rummaged through her bag, “But, I come bearing gifts.”

At this, Kitty perked up, swiping out of Project Makeover and sitting up to devote her full attention to her roomate. From her bag, MJ produced two plastic-wrapped chocolate-chip cookies and tossed them to bed. The girl pounced on them, immediately tearing into the plastic on one of the packs.

“I forgive you,” she said before biting into the treat.

“Thank God,” MJ replied in dramatic relief. Ease settled over the room as MJ removed her jacket and went about unpacking her things. Kitty, now finished with her first cookie, tossed the used plastic to the trash can across the room (and missed horribly). 

“What’ve you been up to this lovely Friday?” She asked her freckled friend, who was currently changing out of her cable knit sweater. 

“Oh, you know, class,” MJ responded as she slid a Stevie Nicks shirt over her head, “Some people still have class on Fridays.”

“That must be heartbreaking,” Kitty hummed sarcastically, “Anything else?”

“Oh, yeah,” MJ’s movements were smooth as she went through her bag, “I had lunch with Harry after class.”

“Was the dining hall romantic?” Kitty questioned with a smile.

“Totally,” MJ responded with a laugh, “The black-bean burgers are basically aphrodisiacs. Anyways, he invited us out to Hot Rock around eight, so I was thinking we could get dinner–”

“No, thanks,” Kitty intercepted, bringing her legs up closer to her torso and flattening her lips to a line, “I’m not leaving the dorm today.”

“If you had it your way, you’d do that every day,” MJ groaned.

“And?’ Kitty quirked a brow, causing another grumble to leave her counterpart.

“Do you realize how much I say ‘no’ to stuff?” She continued, “‘Kitty, wanna go to a hockey game?’ No. ‘Kitty, wanna go to a frat party?’ No. Our entire relationship exists on the basis of you wanting to do stuff and me trying to refuse.”

“But you still went,” MJ raised her brows hopefully, “To both things. And it’s not like it’s just going to be Harry, he said some other people would be there.”

“Oh, great, other people, you know how much I love social gatherings where I don’t know anyone.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

“You know Peter,” MJ suggested. Kitty hadn’t seen Peter in a while. ‘A while,’ in her case, was a week. She’d gotten some semi-regular texts from him (cat memes and open invites to hang out) but hadn’t seen him since the frat party.

“Is it the best use of their time to be at Hot Rock when the semi-finals are two days away?” Kitty asked.

“No, probably not, but,” MJ’s smile, which had been dimming, came back with full vibrance, “But we can reap the benefits of their deviant behavior.”

“Are the benefits better than chocolate chip cookies?” She hummed.

“Pre-rolls and a bong,” MJ wiggled her fingers in a tamer version of jazz hands. Kitty seemed to deflate with a loud sigh.

“I hate that you make me do things.”

Hot Rock existed on the older, suburban side of campus. Right behind one of the major dining halls was a small, hidden space that hit the blind spot of the security cameras in the area. It wasn’t a rock so much as an artificial slab of stone with a metal pipe attached that spewed hot steam. It was connected to the heating system in the dining hall, but also served as a popular spot for stoners. A few of these man-made smoke spots were scattered around campus, but this one was the most popular, mainly because this rock was always much hotter than the others.

Kitty’s breath appeared in small puffs in the night air and she and MJ walked around the corner of the dining hall. It was spring, and the weather was getting warmer, but there was still a bit of frost. As they shuffled down a small slope, the rock revealed itself, decorated with about four people, one of them being Harry.

“MJ!” He nearly fell over himself scrambling towards the pair. He pressed a small kiss to her lips and wrapped an arm around her in greeting. MJ giggled, choosing to ignore Kitty’s gagging face.

“Kitty-cat!” Harry directed his grinning face to her, “I’m so glad MJ got you out of your tree.”

“I almost wish you’d just call me ‘bitch’ instead of that,” she replied. Harry, not losing any vigor, laughed.

“I know what you need.” He wagged his brows as he reached into the breast pocket of his flannel. He produced a mini pre-rolled joint with a proud grin, “Kitty needs her catnip.”

“I’m gonna let that one slide,” she said, and he simply chuckled. His eyes moved from hers, and somehow his impossibly bright smile widened. Kitty turned and was met with a familiar pair of hazel eyes.

“I’m a big fan of catnip, too,” Peter grinned, sliding down to meet the rest of the group.

“Hey, Peter,” Harry let go of MJ for a moment to give Peter a half-hug. Peter’s eyes, however, never let go of Kitty. He held her gaze with ease.

“Can we sit? My ass is cold,” MJ grumbled lightly as Harry took his post next to her.

“Of course, of course,” was Harry’s hurried reply. The four found spots on the rock, Harry returning to his original spot and taking MJ with him. Kitty settled in a small nook where the slab met a natural rock formation, and, as if she was a magnetic pole, Peter sat next to her. A few awkward introductions were shared with the others at the rock, though, it was clear they were all at least a few hits into Harry’s pre-rolls. 

“So,” Peter’s voice cracked through the silence, “We keep finding each other, don’t we?”

“You keep finding me,” Kitty corrected.

“Same difference,” he shrugged. Wordlessly, he slipped his backpack from his shoulder and set it down in front of him. He worked in surprising order as he removed the items: a grinder, a small, rolled-up plastic bag, a green bong that had seen better days.

“Are student athletes supposed to be smoking?” She asked. For once, his gaze wasn’t focused on her, but on the contents before him.

“Helps with nerves,” he said, grabbing the baggy, “It’s medical, y’know.”

“Hm, I bet,” she replied. He worked with diligence: his long, slender fingers plucked a chunk of bud from the bag and trapped it in the grinder. The sleeves of his black long sleeve were rolled up, revealing his wrist that tensed lightly when he ground the bud. She’d never quite noticed how strong his hands looked—veiny and taught, likely from the hours upon hours of hockey practice. Then came the realization that she was staring, which pulled her attention away from him and to the others on the rock. Though there weren’t many people, pockets of conversation were created: MJ and Harry, who were cuddled up and passing a joint, two other members of the hockey team and a girl with shaggy blonde hair, and, of course, her and Peter. 

“Alright,” Peter hummed in satisfaction as he packed the bowl. He grabbed a red lighter from the front pocket of his jeans and finally looked at Kitty. He held the bong out for her with one of those easy, boyish smiles, “Wanna do the honors, Y/n?”

Peter seemed to be good at evoking emotions from her. Annoyance, frustration, confusion, and now, prickly embarrassment. She licked her lips, looking from the bong and back to him.

“Um,” she let out a small cough, “I’m…not sure how to?”

She wasn’t new to smoking. There was the occasional joint she and MJ would indulge in, or maybe she would take a hit off cart at one of the parties she was dragged to. She’d just hadn’t gotten the chance to hit a bong before—a fact that didn’t bother her until she was here, staring at Peter. She hated her reply and the way she stumbled with her words. She hated that she had nothing better to say. She hated that she had released blood into the water.

“You haven’t done this before?” He grinned. Her jaw clenched at the way he said that. Kitty, in response, sucked her teeth.

“Have you never smoked before?” He cocked his head.

“No, I have, just not this,” she sighed, a slight aggravated clip to her words. Peter must’ve noticed because his gloating grin softened.

“That’s alright,” his voice was more mellow now, “That’s okay, everyone has a first time.”

This persona, the calmer one he adapted when he knew she was getting pissed off, may have pissed her off even more. If he wasn’t being an asshole, it was harder to be annoyed with him, which made her annoyed with him, which made her annoyed with herself.

“Okay,” she said, a cleansing breath of chilled spring air filling her lungs.

“Okay?” He repeated, “You want to try?”

Kitty glanced at MJ and Harry. They weren’t doing anything graphic, but they were still all over each other, giggling and whispering. She turned back to Peter and nodded.

“You sure?” He raised a brow.

“Gimme,” she groaned, taking the glass bong from his hands. He let out a small, breathy chuckle and nodded.

“Okay, so,” he sat up, “I’m gonna light it, you breathe in through the mouth right here. I’ll pull the bowl for you and you keep breathing in, okay?”

Kitty nodded, her lips descending on the mouthpiece. A sudden flash of panic struck her as he flicked the lighter. Did she look stupid? Was she being stupid? Why did she care? Peter lit the bowl, and she did as he said, sucking in a deep drag. The bong bubbled to life and milky smoke flooded the tube.

“Good, good,” Peter encouraged as he pulled the bowl, “Keep sucking in—there you go, just like that.”

She’d been doing fine until he’d spoken. His words, meant as innocent encouragement, sent blood rushing to her face. Her scalp burned as her head reared back and ragged coughs escaped her. Smoke left her lips in puffs, like dust being stirred from an old book. Peter patted her back with one hand and rummaged through his bag with another.

“That happens,” he spoke, unphased by her continuous coughing. He took a metal water bottle decorated in stickers in various states of wear from his bag and unscrewed the lid.

“Here, drink,” he brought it to her lips and she immediately sucked down the water. It was cold against her burning throat. She focused on how cool it was, hoping it would also subdue the burning in her face. A few gulps later, Kitty was back to a semi-normal state. She took in deep breaths, swirling in oxygen with the cannabis in her lungs. 

“That was a big-ass hit. Good job,” Peter chuckled, “When was the last time you smoked?”

“I don’t know, a few weeks ago? And thank you,” Kitty replied. There wasn’t a hint of snark in her words, which was highly unusual. The afterburn of her influx of new feelings was still there.

“That oughta do it,” he took the bong from her, “I mean, you can totally have more, but your tolerance is probably pretty low, and the hit you just took looked more like three.”

“Yeah, that oughta do it,” she coughed out. He eyed her, suspicious of her lack of sass, before lighting the bowl for himself.

The bong caught up with her within ten minutes. There was a low vibration in her body, one that pulsed in her fingertips and warmed her. Her vision was a bit more narrow now, like she was viewing movie through her vision. Her mind bubbled, and when her eyes caught a glimpse of the sky, she leaned back with astonished glee.

It wasn’t often that you saw stars in the sky on this side of New York. Usually, the city lights blocked out anything non-artificial. But here, a mile or so away from the more prominent lights, she was able to see the glimmer of distant stars. It was captivating, really, and she could’ve stared at them for hours. Maybe she did. People buzzed around her without her recognition. Even Peter seemed to settle into a comfortable silence next to her. 

“Do you remember that one episode of Hannah Montana where Miley moves into a new house and there’s a pizza oven? Like, one of those wood ovens you put pizza in. A pizza oven? Yeah?” She asked, glancing in Peter’s direction. He seemed to only slightly register the question before looking at her with a cocked brow.

“No,” he replied.

“Oh,” she hummed, “What about the one where—it’s the third episode, I think—the one where Oliver—no, it’s the second episode—the one where Oliver is in love with Hannah Montana, but he doesn’t know it’s Miley, so Miley and Lilly are like ‘oh, no!’” 

“No,” he repeated. His voice wasn’t harsh, though. It was soft, maybe even curious.

“It’s good,” she said, “Real good. Real good.” 

It was around then that the stars began to lull her to sleep. There was something comfortable about this moment: the heat of the rock, the stars, the weed in her system. She drifted off for a moment and was quickly awoken by a gentle shake.

“Y/n?” Peter called lightly, “Are you sleepy?”

His hand was on her arm. His hand was on her arm. Her eyes settled on that before she could even begin to process his words. His hand was lovely, truly, with its web of veins, the slender fingers that warmed her skin. She looked up to him and smiled.

“Hey!” Was her cheery reply. He laughed at this and nodded. Kitty cocooned inside herself once more as he turned away and called out to someone on the other side of the rock. She heard Harry, then MJ, then Peter again. It sounded like hearing a foreign language as the spoke.

“Would you like to sleep in your bed instead of this rock?” Peter asked. Kitty, still cocooned, sprung forward a bit.

“Yes,” she responded confidently. He couldn’t help but smile at her tone. He packed away his bag swiftly and stood, offering a hand to Kitty.

“You think I can’t stand up? Oh, I can stand up—I’m an olympic stander,” she mumbled, rejecting his hand. This side of her was something Peter had never experienced. He was used to snippy comments and sharp replies, but the inebriated, bumbling Kitty was an entirely different person. He liked it. A lot.

They began their trek back to Kitty’s dorm in silence. It was comfortable like this: quiet interrupted by the occasional off-key hum by the girl. It wasn’t a very far walk, only five minutes or so, and when they reached the front, Peter’s tight grin loosened a bit.

“Hey, I wanted to ask you something,” he said, his hand gently catching her arm. In this state, she wasn’t able to deny the electric current that was sent through her nervous system. Kitty shivered as she met his eyes.

“I know you’re not in the right headspace for this, so I’ll ask you again later, but…” he trailed off. He looked away from her, and she caught the way his throat bobbed slightly. This lasted for only a moment before he was making eye contact again, “Do you wanna come to semis?”

That wasn’t the question she expected. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t that. Instead of responding, she stared blankly at him.

“It’s not here, it’s actually kind of far away,” he was rambling now, “Well, not super far, it’s in New Jersey. It’s sort of late notice, so I know you might not want to go, and you have your own shit to worry about, too, so—”

“This is very weird,” Kitty interrupted.

“What?” Peter stopped, looking to her with a quirked brow.

“You’re acting nervous and talking a lot. Weird,” she said.

“Yeah, well, I am nervous, and I’m a little high, and you’re really hot, so there’s just a lot going on up here.” He gestured to his head. Her eyes were blank for several seconds before they sparked in recognition.

“Oh—oh.” Her expression changed rapidly, eventually landing on something akin to realization. Silence swelled between them for a moment before it was broken by one word: “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Peter repeated.

“Maybe,” she nodded in agreement. His lips tugged into a boyish smile once more.

“Okay, Y/n,” he grinned, “Maybe.”

a/n — (in the voice of that one meme) heyy….how y’all doin??? okay so im sorry that this update is months late, college has been a lot. it’s been fun tho!! like, i think im the happiest ive ever been. anyways, im sorry if this update doesn’t fit as well with the others, im trying to get back into the groove of writing, forgive me 🙏 love u guys!!

taglist

@reidslovely @awezomezauce @tarzinnia @fr3akho3 @multilovebot @collywobbl @naok-iyuu @kay-i-guess @littlexscarletxwitch @ujimoo

[ottogatto]

I would like to submit two ideas because I think I'm poking something but not going in fully, so I would very much like your opinions and additions about it (of course, as long as they remain in good faith *side eyes possible antis viewing my post*).

Marauders and surface-level rebellion

I've finally put to words something that really bothered me with the Marauders, though I don't know the name for it.

It started when I read a reblog that said:

I remember Brennan saying “laws are just structured threats made by the ruling socioeconomic class” during an episode of D20 and we truly just had to stan immediately

This is something dear privileged white woman Rowling didn't realize/understand well, since she held a high socioeconomical status even during her """poverty""" stage. It's known that, despite seeming to be defending ideas of fighting against fascism and "pureblood" supremacy in favor of acceptance of the other, her books reek of colonialism/imperalism. The story of the Marauders, a gang of privileged boys like her, is an in-world replica of that problem where Rowling betrays yet again her actual mindset.

The Marauders adopt the "bad boys who break rules" to get style, while completely losing/staining the moral sense in it.

Let's take piracy.

Some people pirate stuff because they consider that the stuff they'd like to get comes from unethical companies that abuse their employees or use modern slavery, or people who spread harm against certain minorities (like Rowling against trans people and thus the LGBT+ community), so while they may want to access the content, they don't want to give them money and might even encourage pirating their stuff to make them lose money.

Some pirate stuff because otherwise it's lost due to unfortunate "terms of use" -- see video games companies like Ubisoft (deletes gaming account after a while), Nintendo (does not bring back old games), etc.

Others pirate stuff because they just don't have the money but they still want to try the stuff that might make them happy and forget that they're poor -- reasoning that the company isn't losing any money anyway, or not much, since they wouldn't have been able to pay for it in any case.

Others pirate stuff because they consider the price ridiculously high or they consider it shouldn't be something to pay for at all. (Like education stuff -- isn't education supposed to be free for all, so that it can actually uphold everyone's fundamental and unconditional ( = not conditioned by wealth...) right to have an education? Oh and before anyone asks: I've DEFINITELY bought the ~15 expensive books that's roughly worth 500€ in total and that my uni asked I buy to study and get my degree...)

Rowling's Marauders is a group that would pirate stuff just because they'd think it would give them an edge, because they'd think it would make them cool to be seen as "talented" hackers who "defy" companies. Companies... that their own friends and families would own, and as such, would find that kind of behavior funny and entertaining (while they would trash other people around for considering it).

Another example. In society, in history, it's been proven time and again that breaking rules -- going against the law -- is an eventuality that's important for everyone to consider, if they want to defend their rights. Anti-racism, feminism, LGBT Pride, etc, advanced because people broke rules. In USA states where abortion is currently being banned, women and minors (+ their close ones) must now consider breaking the rules to get an abortion. (Privileged people don't give a fuck about those people, and if they suddenly decide that (moral) rules don't apply to them and they will get an abortion, they will just take a plane ticket to a country where abortion is legal, fiddling with legal stuff if necessary thanks to the lawyers their fortunes can afford and the lobbies that they're instituting.)

Revolutions happened because people broke rules too. I particularly like the 1793 Constitution in France Because it asserts that the people have the right to break rules and riot if the power in place threatens their fundamental rights:

Article 35. - Quand le gouvernement viole les droits du peuple, l'insurrection est, pour le peuple et pour chaque portion du peuple, le plus sacré des droits et le plus indispensable des devoirs. Article 35. - When the government violates the people's rights, insurrection is, for the people and for each portion of the people, the most sacred of rights and the most essential of duties.

(Of course the power in place would state and enforce and make use of propaganda to say that it's completely illegal and illegetimate and that those who riot for legitimate rights are terrorists!)

Breaking rules is at the core of anti-fascism, anti-dictatorship, anti-totalitarianism. Breaking rules is essential when those rules are abusive. Too often, those who put those rules in place really are only setting their rules of the game to establish their power over the others. Or as the reblog says: "laws are just structured threats made by the ruling socioeconomic class".

Rowling's Marauders break rules because they are the socioeconomical class in power. As such, no one can do anything about it, no one will really tell them down for it. They get excused and justified and romanticized by their peers, just like billionaires & politicians are excused by their peers and notably mainstream media (which is owned... by other billionaires). They break rules -- not because they think it's necessary and the morally right thing to do despite the dangers it puts them in -- but because it makes them feel powerful, important, invincible, which for them is very fun. As Snape says: James and his cronies broke rules because they thought themselves above them:

“Your father didn’t set much store by rules either,” Snape went on, pressing his advantage, his thin face full of malice. “Rules were for lesser mortals, not Quidditch Cup-winners. [...]”

They break rules because they're allowed to.

Which is why, in reality, the Marauders aren't really breaking rules or defying anything or opposing an actual big threat. They're a bunch of jocks who are having fun in the playground that's been attributed to them thanks to their status and family heritage (others wouldn't get the same indulgence because they don't get that privilege).

They break rules because they want to look cool, to be the "bad boys". The message has been compleyely botched. Especially with Lily actually finding this hot.

Because Rowling finds this hot:

[...] I shook hands with a woman who leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, 'Sirius Black is sexy, right?' And yes, of course she was right, as the Immeritus club know. The best-looking, most rebellious, most dangerous of the four marauders... and to answer one burning question on the discussion boards, his eyes are grey.

(Anyone has an eyes washing station?)

Another quote:

"Sirius was too busy being a big rebel to get married."

(Nevermind the eyes washing, anyone's got some bleach instead?)

Stanning James Potter for being the leader of a gang that prides itself on breaking rules and always getting away with it -- it feels like stanning Elon Musk for being "innovative" and "a daring entrepreneur" despite being a manchild who exploits workers and modern-world slavery to play with his billions while always getting away with it.

They're not being "rebels" -- they're being bullies and flexing the fact they can get away with it thanks to abundance of privilege. Those are the tastes of a posh British white woman. She wanted the facade -- not the substance (that is, if she ever understood it).

You might say that they did oppose a big threat, the Death Eaters, but again, it's botched because:

they target a lonely, unpopular boy who's best friends with a Muggleborn Gryffindor, rather than baby Death Eaters like Mulciber, Lucius, Rosier, Avery, Regulus, etc.

The leader sexually harasses the Muggleborn Gryffindor because he's sexually jealous of the unpopular boy who dared not take the insult about his chosen House and shut up. Lily is treated as an object, they don't listen to her, and they barely speak about her later. (Lots to say to show that, which I won't do here because this is not the main subject.)

When the Marauders do join the Order, they do it... because they primarily want to adopt a rock-n-roll style and play the "bad boys" again. Or at least that's the message that's given to the reader:

They seemed to be in their late teens. The one who had been driving had long black hair; his insolent good looks reminded Fisher unpleasantly of his daughter's guitar-playing, layabout boyfriend. The second boy also had black hair, though his was short and stuck up in all directions; he wore glasses and a broad grin. Both were dressed in T-shirts emblazoned with a large golden bird; the emblem, no doubt, of some deafening, tuneless rock band.

(God, the Prequel is so cringy.)

They don't choose Dumbledore as the Secret Keeper, they don't tell him they changed to Pettigrew -- even though he literally was their war leader -- James uses the Cape to fuck around even though he was supposed to be hiding with Lily and then Harry (until Dumbledore takes the Cape from him)... and eventually, their group exploded, with James killed off, Sirius thrown to Azkaban, Peter (the traitor) hiding as a rat and Lupin going off to find jobs to survive.

Why did that happen? Because they thought of playing their part in the Order like going on a teenage adventure rather than engaging in a resistance organization. It was, first and foremost, about playing "the bad boys" and having fun.

(Harry half-inherits this. While he doesn't break rules just to look cool, and actually has several moments where he does break rules because it's the right thing to do -- like under Umbridge or, of course, when Voldemort takes power -- he does often get pampered when he breaks them in his earlier years. By Dumbledore, but also McGonagall, however much Rowling tries to sell her as a "strict but fair" teacher. Or by Slughorn, now that I think about it. That's something that enraged Snape, as it brought up memories of Harry's father -- Snape's own bully -- getting the same treatment.)

It's not a coincidence that Rowling not only failed to properly convey through the Marauders the true value of breaking rules, but also lusted over them for adopting that "bad boys" trope. It speaks to her own privilege -- she who never had to put herself in danger and go against the law in a risky attempt to protect herself or other less privileged people.

(Here's a useful read to expand on those worldbuilding issues.)

2. Dark Magic, obscurantism and conservatism

For context: Opinion: The Dark Magic/Light Magic Dichotomy is Nonsense (by pet_genius).

The idea of "Dark Magic" as something that's repeatedly told to be "evil" magic and where you cross the line of the forbidden, while hardly putting in question that notion that was (for some reason) enforced by wizard society, is another blatant example of Rowling betraying her mindset of privileged British white woman.

Rowling couldn't put herself in the minds of a society of "outcasts (witches & wizards) deeply enough to consider they would not see any magic as "Dark" at all (being a ""Muggle"" concept), or that Dark magic is only magic that requires something unvaluable to be traded off -- like one's soul or health or life or sanity. Instead, she has Dark Magic defined as "evil" magic, even though her own books show that you can do evil stuff with normal magic, and that you can do morally good stuff with Dark magic. This thing happened because Rowling could not think past her own little world and instead she poured a conservatist mentality (+ typical "Muggle", anti-witch prejudice) into the HP (wizard society) worldbuilding without considering that there could, in fact, be fundamental differences between the two worlds that include thinking of magic differently. (This has a lot to do with Rowling's wizard world being a pro-imperalism fest.)

"Dark Magic" feels like a lazy, badly-executed plot device to tell the reader who's a good guy and who is not. Because of course, that's how things work in real-life, huh… (Did she ever hear of "don't tell, show"?) It's used as an excuse to define who's evil (teen Severus) or not (James), who's worthy or not -- not how their magic was used. Which is a BIG problem:

“I’m just trying to show you they’re not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are.” The intensity of his gaze made her blush. “They don’t use Dark Magic, though.” / “Scourgify!” Pink soap bubbles streamed from Snape’s mouth at once; the froth was covering his lips, making him gag, choking him —

Even worse, Rowling doesn't follow her own in-world moral framework. Dark magic is acceptable for some people (Rowling's partial self-inserts: Dumbledore, Harry, Hermione to Marietta...) but not for those that Rowling hates (Snape, who ironically represents the closest thing to rebelling by unapologetically obsessing over the Dark Arts). Again, this is at best unadressed in-world hypocrisy, at worst an expression of in-world and out-universe privilege (I get to do this and stay a good guy, but you don't).

There could have easily been rightful criticism of whatever could be defined as "Dark Magic". What if Dark magic was just something defined as "Dark" usually because the power in place doesn't want the people to touch it? Is abortion or contraception or a sex-altering or a goverment-threatening spell, Dark Magic? Is foreign or ethnicity-specific or female-centered or queer-centered magic, "Dark"? How about showing why (Muggle-raised but also neurodivergent) Severus thought Dark magic was so great, showing his point of view, while also establishing where the true limits are? If Lily can't be the one who sees past the "fear-mongering anti-intellectualism/propaganda", how about Harry being the one who does, thanks to him relating to Snape on a personal level? How about making Hermione go from someone who condems Dark Magic, to someone who entirely changes her point of view and understands that this is all bullshit -- effectively showing the dangers of only following what the books say, without putting them into question or thinking by yourself? How about a nuanced view of Dark magic as something that requires a significant sacrifice, which is conceivable for something they see as equally or even more important [Lily's life for Harry; Snape's soul integrity for Dumbledore]? How about making the Death Eaters, people who deviate that legitimate interest, rather than just evil guys who thrive in Dark magic for its supposed added evilness? How about showing that Dark magic was just a notion invented by Muggles to throw "witches" (real or not) to the burning stakes -- later taken by the witches and wizards in power to define, in the magical community, what was okay or definitely forbidden because it's the trademark of those who represent a threat to the magical community (understand: people who riot or strike or protest against the ruling socioeconomical class' politics)?

But there was none of that.

"Dark" magic in HP merely seems to be a weird concept that at best accidentally takes the form of an in-world obscurantism, at worst is just the trademark of someone who cannot imagine a "hunted, ostracized" community with a different culture and mindset than her own. Aggravating is the fact that she used "Dark magic" as a plot device to magically cast some people as good and others as never bad – again, probably reflecting her own questionable mentality.

The fact Rowlnig invented the notion of Dark Magic and had her world consider it seriously as an evil thing instead of being open-minded seems to be less telling of her wishes to show a wizard society that can be as prejudiced as the muggle one, and more of her own bizarre world where you must be evil if you are knowledgeable in or interested in certain "taboo" things (RIP neurodivergents).

Rowling glorifies the Trio and the Marauders for breaking rules. Yet when it comes to actually breaking expectations and norms, notably in the wizarding society -- like the use of another magical species as slaves, or the blatant anti-Muggle prejudice held by everyone including "good guys" (or anti-centaur while we're at it), or stupid anti-knowledge prejudice like "Dark magic is evil" -- there is none of that. At best, it's surface-level opposition that comes out as white savior syndrome. At worst, the protagonists make it their noble code to enforce those norms, and "sinful" characters (Snape, for one) are punished for not conforming. Too often, those sinful characters are punished by the "good guys" with the very thing that they apparently oppose so fervently.

Without ever adressing the fact that those characters were ("morally") allowed to do that because it was just, in the end, a matter of who gets the privilege to do that, and who does not.

There.

Do you have anything to say to develop on those ideas? I feel like I'm reaching my knowledge limit and I'd like to see if those ideas can be expanded.

[paintyoureyeswithavividmind]

close to home | chapter forty eight

close to home | chapter forty eight

plot: the reader gets to Hilltop and reunites with her family

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 3,536 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd A/N: thank you for reading!!! As promised, here is a long chapter

The trip to Hilltop was about fifteen miles or so, but the car held up. With the A.C. blasting and some old CD playing, it was actually a nice drive. And Tora enjoyed spreading out in the passenger seat. Each time you looked at her and remembered you were free, you were overcome with such joy that you wanted to pull over and cry. 

But you knew you weren’t safe until you were inside those walls, and you wanted, more than anything, to be there. 

You started recognizing the area decently well, and to make sure you saviors never find the car, you set it in neutral a few miles out and let it drive itself into a tree. Then, you and Tora set out on foot. Unfortunately for you, it started raining when you were halfway there. 

It was nearing noon when you knew you were getting close, and with each step, your anxiety got the better of you. What if they’d left the community and headed back to Alexandria? And now the car was trashed, and you’d have to walk all the way there. You scolded yourself for being so stupid, for letting your excitement get in the way of reasoning. 

When you finally arrived at Hilltop, and it was just a drizzle, you hesitantly waited behind a tree. Tora, soaking wet and in your arms, was getting impatient. But you'd like to scope out the area first. You waited a few minutes, watching a man stand at their watch post you didn’t know. 

“What are you doing?” 

You jumped at the sound behind you, and Tora scrambled out of your arms. You grabbed your new knife and spun around, ready to attack, when a hand wrapped around yours. 

“Jesus,” You sighed. “You scared the shit out of me.” 

Jesus laughed and let go of your hand. “You scared me. I couldn’t tell who you were while I was following you. Finally spotted Tora in your arms, and I knew.”

You shook your head and put your knife in the holster before giving him a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

“Are you okay?”

You stepped away from the hug and nodded. “Daryl’s here? And Maggie?”

“So are Sasha and Enid. Come on, I’ll bring you inside.” He said. 

You smiled, wiping wet hair from your face, and whistled for Tora, who followed you up the hill. 

“What were you even doing out here anyway?” You asked. 

“Gregory pissed me off; I needed air to cool off.”

You nodded and looked at the enormous walls that were now only meters away. The guard yelled down for them to open the gates, and slowly they pulled open. 

Your stomach was riddled with nerves as you walked through the gates. The light rain didn’t keep anyone down; you watched the community work through it. You supposed they had to, with the saviors taking half of what they owned. 

You were looking around instantly, trying to spot someone you loved. Finally, at the blacksmith hutch, you saw your cousin and dropped your bag. She was staring at you as if you were a ghost, and then broke out into a run. 

Already crying, you ran toward her and met in an embrace. Her body shook against yours, and you don’t think you’d ever felt her hug you that tight. When she pulled away, she grabbed your shoulders. 

“Are you okay?” She asked you.

You nodded, bringing her into another hug as you cried. You closed your eyes and squeezed yourself against her. “I’m so glad you’re okay, how’s the baby?” You asked. 

“The baby’s fine,” She said. 

When you opened your eyes and pulled away, you saw Enid and Sasha approaching you. You felt tears come on again, and you quickly gave them both a hug. Then, you heard one of the RV doors close, and you looked over to see Daryl walking out. 

You covered your mouth as you choked back a sob. You watched him freeze when he saw you there, but you couldn’t wait. You broke out into a run, your boots thudding against the muddy ground. Your gaze stayed focused on him as he ran. 

Your body slammed against his, and you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. You cried hysterically as he gripped you tight, and you dug your face into the crock on his neck. Your hand ran down the lengths of his hair a few times before you leaned back and cupped his face in your hands. 

You didn’t hesitate before kissing him. You couldn’t take waiting any longer. You kissed him quickly like you couldn’t get enough of him. Like each movement of his lips brought life back into your body. You didn’t care that you could taste both of your tears; you were just so relieved to be back in his arms. To be with him again. 

“I missed you,” You told him between each kiss, “I missed you so damn much.”

When your feet were on the ground again, you couldn’t help but pull his face towards yours for another kiss. His hands squeezed around your waist, and you had to pull away from him so you could cry. 

“I thought ya didn’ get out,” Daryl said, breathing heavily and you could tell he was trying his hardest not to cry. “I was so scared. Maggie wouldn' let me go try and find ya, was tryin' find a way to get outa here.” He admitted to you, dropping his head and resting it on your shoulder. You pressed a few long kisses against the side of his head. 

“I’m here; it just took me a little while,” You told him reassuringly. 

That was when you felt the presence of others, and you and Daryl pulled apart. Maggie, Enid, Sasha, and Jesus were waiting for you. You felt your heartache at Maggie and Sasha’s pained expression, and you walked over to your cousin to give her another hug. 

“I’m so sorry, Maggie.” You whispered to her. 

“Let’s get you inside, we can go to my trailer. Let’s get some food in you,” Maggie told you. 

You nodded and let her walk you towards the trailer she lived in. You grabbed Daryl’s hand as you passed him, not that he needed any encouragement to follow you anywhere. You whistled for Tora, who came running. 

Once inside, Maggie quickly found some dry clothes, and everyone turned so you could quickly get dressed. Maggie busied herself by making you a sandwich, and when you saw it was peanut butter and jelly, you laughed. 

“Where’d you find this?” You sat down at the table and quickly devoured it. Then, after Maggie told you about Jesus’ last run, you spoke through a full mouth. “The Kingdom gave me a shit ton of food. It’s in my bag.” 

They laughed at you, aside from Daryl, who nervously paced and kept looking at you. When you nodded towards the seat next to you, he sat down. 

“How the hell did you end up there?” Maggie asked you. 

You wiped crumbs from your mouth, took the glass of water Maggie had given you, and took a long sip before you answered. “It’s a long story. Everything is a long story.” 

“I need to know everything,” Maggie said, grabbing your hand across the table. “What did they do to you?”

You gulped and looked around at Enid, Sasha, and Jesus. Daryl knew parts of what happened, and Maggie knew nothing. You slowly nodded. “Okay. I was held in this closet of sorts. I don’t know what it was. I was there for… two or three days, I think. And one of Negan’s wives came to me--”

“One of his wives?” Sasha asked you. 

You nodded. “He has several. The one that came to me was Sherry. She brought me to this room where the wives mostly stayed. She showed me what was going to be my room. And she told me… she told me that if I didn’t submit to Negan that it would mean bad things for... for Daryl.” You said, looking at him. He was staring at you, biting his lip, and shaking his leg with anxiety. 

You turned back to everyone else as you touched Daryl’s knee. “So I did. I said I was Negan, and I agreed to marry him. Sherry told me she had been in the same situation and had to do the same. So that’s what I did because I was scared.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Maggie rubbed your hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“Once I was his- his wife, things changed. Sherry showed me around. I got to take whatever I wanted. I got to just take things. I didn’t feel right about it. And the wives… guys, they weren’t evil women. They were just like me. Scared. Desperate to live or help their families live. I couldn’t hate them. I tried, but I couldn’t. And not Sherry. She helped me with everything.

“And Negan, he took a liking to me, I guess. He did things for me. He brought Tora to me. And when Carl came, he let me talk to him. Sherry told me Negan didn’t do anything like that.”

Maggie looked at you and squeezed your hand. “Did he…?”

You shook your hand. “No. There’s a rule about that kinda stuff. It’s not allowed. If you even try it… you’ll be killed. But Negan knows the wives were only doing it because they had to. They wouldn’t have said yes otherwise. And I knew, I knew that if I was there any longer, I would have to do the same.” 

“That bastard,” Sasha muttered. 

You took a deep breath and blinked back a few tears. “I’m okay. I am. Sherry planned it all. She got Daryl out. We had to take a different exit and just needed to put as much distance between us and the compound. And then she told me she wasn’t coming with me. She wanted to leave, get far away. And she was gone, and I couldn’t find my way here. I was lost in the woods for days.

“When I finally found a town, I guess it was near the Kingdom. They saved me and brought me back. I met Morgan there. I got there only a day after you left,” You looked at Daryl. “I met Ezekiel and everyone else. They wanted me to stay, but I couldn’t. I wanted to come home.”

Maggie stood up from the table and gave you another hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.” 

“Me too."

***

Eventually, Enid, Sasha, and Jesus departed, and Maggie followed soon after. They were working at making as many weapons as possible, and she had gained some leadership roles. You weren’t surprised. 

So it was finally just you and Daryl, and you couldn’t keep your eyes off him. He looked so defeated and run down. It broke your heart. 

“Ya want somethin’ else to eat?” He asked you, “I can make ya ‘nother sandwich.”

You shook your head and reached out to him. Daryl let you touch him, of course he did, because he’d been craving that touch for weeks. So you climbed onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck. It wasn’t the most comfortable way to sit, but you didn’t care.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t do more,” You told him, hiding your face in his neck. 

Daryl shook his head as he pulled you closer to his chest. “Ya did everything,”

You started to cry again. “I’m so sorry, Daryl.”

“Don’ say sorry. ‘M the one who should be sorry. I couldn’ protect ya like I promised I would. I couldn’ stop them from tryin’...”

You leaned back and looked at his face, brushing away his hair so you could see him. “Don’t you dare apologize for that. It wasn’t your fault.”

Daryl nodded, and you could see tears forming, and you knew that moment would haunt him for a long, long time. You leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. 

“It wasn’t your fault.” You told him. 

“Do ya promise he didn’ touch ya?” He asked you. 

“Negan didn’t touch me. I promise.” You reassured him, running your fingertips down the side of his face. “God, I missed you so much,”

You were kissing him again, hard, trying to show him how much you missed him. Tears burned your eyes as you did, and you sighed into him. His chest was moving quickly against yours, and he squeezed your waist. It was like a reflex to him, and you loved it. 

You pulled away before the kiss led to other things, and you looked at his face, taking in the bruises and cuts, the bags under his eyes. He looked exhausted, and you knew he probably wasn’t sleeping. You furrowed your eyebrows and ran your fingers against his face again. 

“You’re the most handsome man in the world,” You whispered, giving him one final, light kiss. “I thought about you all the time. I watched you from that wives' room. Out on the fence. I’m sorry they did that to you. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it.” 

“Stop,” Daryl whispered. “Please don’ say ya sorry.”

You closed your eyes and nodded. “I don’t wanna be apart again. I know things were up in the air before, and I know things are going to be harder, and we’re going to war with the saviors. But I can’t do that again. I wanna be with you. Always.” 

“Nothin’ gonna take ya away from me again,” Daryl told you. You knew that was him agreeing to it. Agreeing to be with you, whatever that means in this world. 

“We should go out and help,” You finally said. “There’s a lot to do. And I wanna help.”

“Just like at the prison, throwin’ ya self right in there.”

You smiled and slowly moved off his lap. “Why would you expect anything else, Daryl Dixon?”

When you stepped outside, the sun was breaking through the clouds. You looked up at it and smiled, enjoying the feeling of it being on your skin. You’d missed it so much when you were at the Sanctuary, and this was nearly heaven to you. It was a blissful feeling. 

You spotted Maggie at the blacksmith and led Daryl over to her. She smiled when she saw the two of you, even though it had only been a few minutes since she did. When you asked her what she needed you to do, she put you and Daryl to work. She asked Daryl to help with the blacksmith and you to help her tend to the gardens. 

You knew Daryl didn’t like the idea because he wanted to stay close to you, but you gave him a reassuring nod and followed Maggie to get the supplies and head to the garden. Besides, you could see each other clearly.

“So you two are together now?” Maggie asked you, handing you gardening gloves. 

“We were before, just… I don’t know. We are.” You said quietly, as guilt consumed you. “Maggie, where’s his grave?”

She froze for a moment and looked up at you. “He’s here. I should’ve brought you sooner. I know how much you loved him.” 

Her words stabbed your heart, and you followed her to where the graveyard was. Only two bodies were buried there. Glenn and Abraham. She brought you over to Glenn’s, and you knelt beside it. 

Tears spilled out, and you placed your hands on the dirt. “I miss him,” You said quietly, “Both of them.”

“Me too,” Maggie said. 

You looked up at her then, at your beautiful, strong cousin. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I am so sorry, Maggie,” You said. 

“Hey, you didn’t know what Negan would do. You were trying to save Daryl. I don’t blame you or him for anything,” Maggie grabbed your hand. “He’s a monster and a killer. Glenn was beautiful. And we both know he would’ve been glad it was him instead of one of us.”

You nodded slowly and squeezed her hand. “Daryl blames himself.”

“I know. He won’t really talk to me.” Maggie said, “I don’t blame him. He’s the only one that had the courage. He couldn’t have known…”

“I love you, Maggie.” You told her. “We’ll make this right. He’ll pay for it.”

Maggie smiled at you, “I love you too, (Y/N).”

***

You helped Maggie with whatever she needed for the rest of the day and then sat with Enid and Sasha in the trailer while Maggie finally talked to Daryl. You knew that what you told her affected her, and you knew how much she loved and respected Daryl. You were all family. 

When Maggie returned with teary eyes, she looked relieved and hugged you. Then she sat down with you and helped herself to a second plate of the meat pie that was made for her and, by extension, you. 

“Daryl’s been sleeping in a tent in the back, says there’s too many people here,” Enid told you. “It’s been me, Sasha, and Maggie, so I guess I don’t really blame him.”

“He seemed like a burden was off his shoulder, but he might need some company.” Maggie told you. 

You nodded and finished your last bite of dinner. “Subtle.” You told the two of them, to which they chuckled. It was good to see Maggie laugh. 

After clearing your plate and kissing your cousin on the head, you left the trailer. The night air was cooler, and thousands of stars were in the sky. It was breathtaking, and one of the things you loved about this new world. No light pollution. 

Daryl was sitting at one of the tables, and you approached him slowly, giving him a once-over. You didn’t want to crowd him after his conversation with Maggie. 

“Hey, old man,” You said quietly, walking up to him. 

He grunted, “Not an old man.”

You smiled at his words and looked at his plate. “Finish that, okay?”

He nodded, and you sat down next to him. Well, he was sitting on the table while you took the bench. You watched him eat, not seeing his face well because of the night, but enough. He looked so handsome, despite how rough he looked. 

“I hear you got a tent. Room for one more?”

Daryl looked at you then. “I thought ya woulda wanted to be in there.” 

You shook your head, “I love them, and I’m so happy to be here, but I don’t miss all of us cramped in one space. Besides, I wanna be with you, Daryl. So, do you have room for me?”

He stood up and jumped down, then reached out for your head. “I’ll make room.”

The tent behind the medical trailer that belonged to him was decently big. It reminded you of the tents you used to have camping with your family. There was enough room for two people to fit comfortably, but that was about it. 

Daryl turned on a lantern and you watched with a smile as he moved around things to make room for you. Smiling to yourself, you zipped up the tent behind you and helped him spread out the blanket and pillow, and move everything else to the side. You took off your knife holster and set it with your boots, and then slid out of your leggings and took off your bra. 

“Sorry, it’s on the ground,” Daryl said to you quietly. 

“You realize I’m the same woman who spent weeks sleeping next to you on the ground without a tent, right?” You said. “You don’t have to be nervous around me. It’s me, okay?”

He nodded and pulled the cover back for the two of you. Within a few seconds, you were cradled in his arms, and the lantern was out. Your cheek pressed against his shoulder, and his arm around your waist. The blanket was wrapped around the two of you, keeping you from the chilly night air. 

“I missed this,” You mused, bringing your leg up to rest against his and trying to get closer to him. 

Daryl kissed the top of your head, and you smiled, soaking up your pure happiness. You never thought you would have this again. And now that you did, you would never give it up. 

“What ya did for me, back there, I don’ know how I could ever repay ya,”

You looked up at him, “Daryl, you never have to. After everything you’ve done for me. I would’ve done anything to keep you safe.”

“Ya married him to keep me safe. I don’t…” His voice trailed off. “It’s all I could think ‘bout.”

You pressed your hand against his cheek and propped yourself on your other arm. “Of course I did. And you never have to thank me for it. Never.”

“(Y/N)...”

“I’m here. I’m right here.”

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Several Shots Later (Pro!Sero x Black!Chubby!Fem!Reader) 

Pairing: Pro!Sero Hanta x Black!Chubby!Fem!Reader (Strangers to Lovers) 

Synopsis: In which you go on a vacation in an effort to relax and feel more confident, but find yourself falling for the sexy stranger who sends you a drink across the room and also happens to give you some firsthand dance lessons and a night you’ll never forget. 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Aged Up!Sero (he’s in his late 20s); Chubby!Reader; Black-coded!Reader (but anyone can still read this); Marijuana/Alcohol Use; Sero Speaking Spanish; Petnames: (Baby, Mama, Mami); Skinny Dipping; Strangers to Lovers; Drunk Sex; Exhibitionism; Public Oral; Shotgunning; Dirty Talk; Daddy/Papi Kink; Rope Play; Spanking; Spitting; Facefucking; UNPROTECTED PIV Sex; Mild Choking; Mild Degradation; Cum on Body; Aftercare 

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: HAPPY B-DAY WEEK TO MY FAVORITE LATIN KING SERO!! I typed this from his bed btw. Posting it early cuz this weekend, I'm gonna be soooo busy. Anyway, I had this idea after listening to "She's Hot" (the song above) & thinking about dancing to it with Sero cuz y'all know damn well he can MOVE. Enjoy! -Jazz

P.S. If my Spanish is trash or inaccurate, please PLEASE let me know! I used Google Translate lol

Read on AO3 here!

*********

He’s been staring at you all night, ever since you sat at the bar twenty minutes ago. If he continues to do so, you’re sure to soak the stool you’re sitting on.

You’ve never been stared at in such a way before––so brazenly and intimately. Though the lust is hidden beneath the surface of his charcoal eyes, you can tell that this isn’t all that is there. You’re used to being lusted after, but this feels different. More…romantic.

And all just from one look! You know you’re probably looking too deep into it though. After all, you haven’t even spoken to the man. But fuck, do you want to, ever since you caught a glimpse of him when you stepped into the resort’s nightclub twenty minutes before with your two friends and vacay buddies. 

The man is the definition of “fine”.

Though he was sitting down when you first saw him, you’d place him at a good height over yours. He is all lean muscle, but not overly so, all of which you can see straining against his black polo shirt that he leaves unbuttoned to expose the sliver of chest and a gold chain underneath. His arms, which you’d love to feel wrapped around you, are roped in tattoos, his fingers adorned in rings and his wrist encased in a Rolex watch. The man must got money.

He sits back in his seat now, his shot of rum in his lap and his thighs open wide as if not aware that every woman (or man) could be staring at his crotch in those tight-ass jeans. 

You’d never thought you’d ever see a man make a mullet look good either. He rocks it perfectly, several strands of black hair hanging in his alluring eyes that continue to stare you down, making you feel hot all over. His eyes sparkle just as his lip ring and silver hoops along his ears do, his long lashes making you think of a doll’s. He’s so, so beautiful. 

You don’t know what he does, but judging by the watch and the Nike Air Forces on his feet, you’d guess he could be a singer. Maybe a business owner or CEO of some company? Maybe even a model? Regardless, he could have any woman in here just with one look and a smile. Why is he so entranced with you? What is it with you that he wants? 

“Girl, you’ve been staring right back at him,” Mina chuckles from beside you. “If don’t hop on that man, I will ‘cause he’s fine.”

You side-eye her from your spot between her and Uraraka, watching her sip on her second cocktail of the night in her little pink mini-dress. “Why don’t you just go over and talk to him like a normal person?” she snickers. 

You turn away from her and the beautiful stranger, staring down at your half-drunk Mojito. “You know I don’t make the first move,” you sigh. “I don’t even know how. Plus, I didn’t come here for a man. I came here to relax and find some confidence in myself.” 

“That’s what a hot guy like him is for!” Mina argues, nodding at the stranger. Though you’re sure he has looked away from you by now, your body still burns as if he is still watching you, waiting for you. “No,” you protest. “That’s what the beach, the spa, and endless drinks are for. I’m not here for sex after the last time a hookup went wrong–which was only a month ago.” 

You huff, stirring your drink around before sipping on it to calm your nerves and push those memories away. You came here to get away from all of that, after all. A month ago was the last straw when it came to dating and hooking up, especially with men online. You had been on Match for months but always seemed to run into men who either had a fetish for plus-sized women, and only that, or ghosted you as soon as they saw you outside of your pretty profile picture. 

The last hookup you had seemed to break your spirit completely. You and the guy had been talking for a couple of weeks before he asked you out for dinner. Though you were excited, you felt that nabbing feeling in your gut that something would go wrong the moment he saw you in your dress, all of your rolls and jiggly parts on display.

But surprisingly, when you met with him at the restaurant, his smile didn’t even falter. He hugged you and kissed your cheek as if nothing was wrong. You even started to believe that this would be fine...until it wasn’t.

Until you invited him back to your apartment after one too many glasses of wine and got him out of his clothes. Until he stripped you, spread your legs wide eagle, and attempted to go down on you but didn’t. “I can’t do this,” he had sighed, already moving to grab his shit to hastily put back on. “Look, you’re pretty and all, and I thought I could handle you, but I can’t. You’re just too…big.” 

To say you were hurt was an understatement. You said nothing to him as he profusely apologized; said it wasn’t your fault but just his preference; that he knew you’d find someone that would be attracted to you. If only he knew that this hasn’t been the case in years. If only he knew that most men only saw you as an object of their fetish and kinks; not their affection. 

You weren’t asking for the fucking moon here. Just some love and affection. Just some intimacy. Just some good ol’ big dick. But you always seemed to lack in those departments because of your shape and size. There are times you wished you looked like your friends–so small and socially acceptable with their flat stomachs and breasts that didn’t sag. They could wear tight-skin dresses and crop tops without getting ridiculed or laughed at. You couldn’t. 

This is why you took the offer for this trip to the beach resort on the coast of [Insert Country Name Here]. It was a short five-day trip that Mina and Uraraka had been planning to get away from your home in the US for a while and escape the sweltering heat.

When they offered you a spot and a ticket, you took that shit. You knew that this was your chance to finally gain the confidence you were missing and get away from the problems and men your city brought for a while. So far, it’s been working. Ever since you flew in this morning, you’ve been wearing all the bikinis and sundresses you want without getting side-eyed or gawked at. It feels damn good! But getting eyed down by that stranger feels even better. 

“He was just a porn-addicted asshole,” Uraraka huffs, crossing her toned legs over each other in her pretty, flowery sundress. “He wasn’t worth your time. As much as I understand your reluctance, Y/N, you’re not behind a screen this time. You’re sitting here, looking sexy as fuck in your mini skirt, and he’s eyeing you down like he wants all of you.” 

“She is right, babes,” Mina agrees. “The way that guy is staring at you is making me kinda jealous.” She smiles at the way you bashfully advert your eyes to stare down at your outfit. They forced you to put on the shimmery mini skirt that hugs your ass and the low-cut top that exposes your cleavage for tonight’s activities. 

“What’s the point of being on vacation if you don’t indulge in hookups with hot people?” she giggles, sipping suggestively on her straw. You raise your brows at her, more than happy to correct her.  “Vacations may be about that for you two, but I’m more about sleeping till the afternoon, lounging by the beach, and drinking my bottomless mimosas.” 

Though the sexy stranger makes you think differently, you know that you’re never going to find the courage to get up and talk to him, no matter how much you drank or how sexy your friends said you looked. You wanted to get away from hookup culture and just find confidence on your own without looking for it in sex with a nice-looking guy. You just want to relax! But Mina and Uraraka aren't taking no for an answer.

Mina downs the rest of her drink before staring at you pointedly. “And that’s about to change tonight.” You gawk at her, laughing in disbelief at her stubbornness. “It’s only the first day!” you laugh. 

“Exactly!” she agrees. “And we’ve got about five days left here at this resort. You know time flies extra fast while on vacation, girl.” She winks at you, encouraging you to go through with catching a body for the night. But you hum disapprovingly to yourself, stirring your straw around in your glass. “I don’t know, girls,” you sigh. “It just doesn’t seem right to use a guy just to boost my confidence and have a good time.” 

Mina dramatically scoffs, rolling her golden eyes. “Please! You’ve got men in here who would gladly give their left lung to do all of that for you and more. Probably even that hottie with the mullet.” Though her words are encouraging, you still feel that roil of fear and uncertainty in your gut. What if he refuses you? What if he says yes but then changes his mind once he gets a look at you under your clothes? 

Uraraka’s soft hand on your knee pulls you out of your head. “How can you know if you don’t at least try, Y/N?” she soothingly asks. “You deserve to have a good time, including getting some great sex if that’s what you want. And from the way you’ve been staring back at that stranger, we can tell it’s exactly what you want. So go on and get him!” 

Mina places a hand on your shoulder, the smell of her fruity perfume overtaking your senses. “What happens on vacation stays on vacation,” she giggles. 

And you realize that they’re absolutely right. You can never know what will happen if you don’t at least try. Plus, even if it goes wrong, there are plenty of other men at this resort you can try to snag, even if for the night or the remainder of this trip. You came here to not only relax, but to find confidence and let loose. Maybe you can do all of that in one night with a hot stranger with no strings attached. 

“Maybe you’re right,” you say, suddenly feeling a boost of confidence in your body. “Lemme just finish this first.” You reach for your Mojito and down it, already feeling the effects of the alcohol in your body. You feel warm and tingly; sexy and powerful like you could take over the whole world. You’ve got this. You’re a sexy ass bitch. 

Uraraka cheers you on when you slide out of your stool, pulling down your skirt over your stomach and thick, jiggly thighs as you do. “Go get him, girly!” Mina shouts encouragingly. “Let us know if you need us to push him into the pool.” 

You giggle, feeling nervous yet excited. You can’t believe you’re really coming out of your comfort zone like this. But as you turn in the direction of the sexy stranger, you find his seat open and him gone. “Oh,” you breathe, disappointment blooming within you. “He’s gone.” Mina and Uraraka look around in disbelief. “Where’d he go?”

Uraraka huffs, her bob as she turns her head from side to side searching for the mystery man. “He was just right there!” Mina puts a comforting hand on your arm. “Well, don’t fret, babes. There are plenty of other fine-ass men in here who would gladly give you their undivided attention.” She begins to look around, squinting into the flashing lights on the dance floor despite your disinterest. “Let’s see…what about–“ 

“Excuse me,” someone says from behind you. You turn, finding the bartender holding another delicious-looking Mojito. “This is for you, miss. It was already paid for.” You and the girls stare at the drink in shock and suspicion. “Already paid for?” you parrot, baffled. “By who?” 

“Well, it was supposed to be by your secret admirer, but I think I fucked that up comin’ over here.” A light chuckle leaves the lips of a man you already know is fine judging by his voice–it’s raspy and laced with a slight accent you can’t quite decipher; very pleasant to the ear. A real panty dropper. 

When you and your friends turn, you swear to nearly drop dead right there in the club. There, standing behind you with a smile playing on his pierced, plump lips, is the hot stranger from across the room. And he’s even sexier up close! From this angle, you can see the ink on his chest peeking from out of his collar and how clean his nails are. Not to mention his scent––so sweet yet musky. It’s intoxicating. You and the girls stand there like idiots, silently drinking in the fine-ass stranger. “Oh, shit, he’s even finer up close,” Mina whispers to Uraraka, earning a shush in response. 

The man smiles, two dimples popping on his cheeks. You love dimples. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he sheepishly says, and you catch a glint of something shiny in his mouth. A tongue piercing. ‘Oh, fuck me,’ you think. This man is trouble.

“I’m sorry if I am, but I couldn’t help myself. You just look too good tonight.” His charcoal eyes are planted firmly on you though you see them falter to trail down your form. You have to hold onto the stool behind you to avoid falling out. Your knees suddenly feel too weak to hold you up. “I thought the drink would’ve been a good icebreaker, but maybe that was kinda douchey,” he wonder aloud, rubbing the back of his neck. His bicep bulges as he does so, making you picture yourself running your fingers over it. 

“U-Uh…” You desperately try to find the words to speak, not wanting to come off as a weirdo. But your mind is completely blank, all except for some naughty images of this man’s hands on you and his cock buried deep inside of you as he bends you over the bar. “No,” you reply, finding the words to finally speak. “It was sweet of you. Thank you…for the compliment too, not just the drink.” You cringe at yourself, realizing you’re babbling.

The stranger laughs lightly, the sound like sex to you. “I’m Sero,” he says in his sexy, raspy voice. “Sero Hanta.” He sticks his hand out for yours and you take it. As soon as your hands make contact, you feel an electric current soar through you as if you’re being shocked from the inside. His hand is big and calloused as if he’s been using them for years. You’re not sure if he feels the same zing that courses through you, but his eyes do trail to your mouth. 

“I’m Y/N,” you timidly reply as your hands drop. “L/N. These are my friends; we’re on vacation.” You turn to your friends that you find leaving their posts, guilty smiles on their faces. “And we were just leaving,” Mina replies. “We’re just gonna go on the dance floor. Text us if you need anything!” 

“Very nice to meet you!” Uraraka shouts with a wave before she and Mina hurry to the dance floor. 

“Wait!” You hiss, but they’re already moving out of earshot. You watch them skid off to the dance floor with the sharpest glare you've ever given a person. If looks could kill, they would be dead. Now it’s just you and Sero the Sexy Stranger.

Though you’re not exactly alone, you may as well be the only two people standing in the room with how awkward and tense the air feels. Sero isn’t immune to it either. He stands rather rigidly, his arms behind his back and his eyes looking anywhere but at you in fear of making you feel uncomfortable. Knowing you can’t stand here all night, you clear your throat and pat the stool next to you. “Uh…did you wanna sit?” Sero shrugs, a sheepish smile on his face. “If you’re cool with it.” 

You nod and slide into your own seat while he hops up next to you. “So you said you ladies are here on vacation?” he asks, giving you a friendly, warm smile that eases your nerves. You nod, lacing your fingers together to give them something to do. “Yeah, for five more days. We just flew in this morning all the way from the US.” 

Sero’s charcoal eyes widen in shock. “The United States?” he gasps, making you giggle. “Shit, that’s a long way. Where are you from?”

You tell him, including the state. You may as well also tell him the capital and the population of your city with how much you’re babbling, but it’s hard to keep calm in the presence of such a sexy, sweet-smelling man. Sero is full of questions, his curiosity adorable. “What’s it like there? Is the food good? I heard they’ve got the best tour sights too!” 

You tell him everything, from the food to the museums to the entertainment there for tourists along with the weather, your neighborhood, and how you’ve been living there ever since you were young. “I met my friends back during college,” you explain as you sip on the Mojito that Sero bought you. “We decided to take this trip to get out of the city for a while.”  Sero nods, his attention firmly on you and only you. It makes you blush and you thank God that He made you a Black woman.

“Well, you ladies picked the best place for a vacay. I’ve been coming here for years ‘cause I’ve got family down here.” He waves a hand, flagging down the bartender. “Are you from here?” you curiously ask. 

He shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. “Nah; I was born in Musutafu, a city in Japan. My mother is Latina but my father is Japanese.” Your interest in him piques here as you have a big soft spot for mixed men. “So are you bilingual?” you giggle. “That’s pretty cool. I’ve been trying to learn Japanese forever ever since I started watching anime.” 

Sero turns to face you, one muscled arm slung across the bar. “You’re an anime fan, huh?” he asks, interest and the flashing strobe lights in his black eyes which you now realize aren't charcoal at all––they’re a very dark brown, almost like dark chocolate. “What’s your favorite? And if you say Naruto, I’m leaving.” 

“What’s wrong with Naruto?” you laugh, gaping at him. 

“Everyone says Naruto!” he complains, rolling his eyes dramatically. “If not DBZ! Those are the two anime shows that reached the mainstream and everyone knows about.” You decide to leave your obsession with Naruto in middle school on the back burner for now.

“Well, I’ll give you my top five,” you giggle. You give him each one, most of them being very underrated and less popular than other anime. Sero looks impressed when you finish. “Daaamn, girl!” he praises. “You’ve got taste! I didn’t think anyone knew about your fifth pick. It’s more of an underrated one.” You nod, agreeing. “Yeah, but I’m into mystery. The twists and turns make each episode so fun to watch.” 

He nods in agreement, a strange smile on his face. Though it doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable, it also feels…weird. You’re not used to being smiled at in such a way, like what you’re saying is so interesting and intriguing. You turn away to sip your drink, hoping more alcohol will make you feel less weird and take you out of your head. 

The bartender suddenly returns to your side with a tray of multi-colored shot glasses and tiny bowls of salt, lemon, and lime on the side. “Here you are, Mr. Hanta,” he says. "On the house.” Sero gives him a look as he lowers the tray in front of him. “I keep tellin’ you to just call me Sero,” he sighs, pulling out a twenty to tip the bartender. “I ain’t my dad.” 

When the bartender scurries off with the bill, Sero fills you in on why he got the order of rounds: “They give me free shit every time I come in here but I still tip ‘em well. Probably because I know the owner. He’s a good friend of my dad’s.” He takes one of the shot glasses and downs the contents inside with ease, not even sucking on a lemon or lime slice as a chaser. You don’t realize that you’re staring at him until he raises a questionable brow at you. “Want one?” he asks. Flushing with embarrassment, you shake your head. “You sure? They’re rum shots. Some are just plain, some are apple, and some are coconut.” 

Your eyes flick from him to the shots, slowly becoming seduced by the different flavors and the idea of letting even looser. “Just one,” you say, giving in to defeat.

Sero passes you a shot before picking up another one of his own, giving you a white-toothed smile. “To an amazing vacation,” he says, raising his shot. You do the same and clink your glass with his before downing your rum at the same time he does. Though you taste the hint of apple, the rum is incredibly strong and nearly burns your tonsils. You gag as he goes down, making Sero laugh behind his hand. “Don’t laugh!” you pout. “This shit is stronger than the stuff you find in the US.” 

Sero snickers as you take a lemon slice and vigorously suck on it, chasing away the strong taste of the rum. “Yeah, I bet,” he chuckles, nodding at the shots. “This is straight rum, mama. Definitely not to be played with. Lemme order you some water.”

He leans over the bar, raising his muscular arm, and you don’t know if it’s you or the alcohol starting to speak, but his arm looks very appealing to you right now. You picture wrapped around your waist or your tummy, maybe on your side while his cock is plunging in and out of the wet, gummy walls of your pussy over and over again, his sweet, raspy voice whispering in your ear. 

You blink, alarmed. ‘Where the fuck did that come from?’ you think. The alcohol is definitely talking now. You have to try to act as normal as possible and not like you’re a horny mess when the bartender returns with a glass of cool water.

But you don't touch the water. Instead, you go for another shot, determination flooding within you that is only conjured by the alcohol. “You wanna try again?” Sero snickers. “Be my guest. It always goes down better the second time around. Don’t drink it too fast, now.” He keeps his intense eyes on you as you down your next shot. He’s right: it does go down a lot easier. While you feel the burn as he slides down your throat, it settles into your tummy nicely, making you feel warm and tingly. 

Sero downs his third shot of the night, as do you. Soon, the room is starting to get hotter and seems a little fuzzier than before. The music is sharper, Sero seems a lot sexier, and you’re having trouble focusing. You know that you are only another shot away from drunk, so you decide to take a couple of sips of your water. Unfortunately, your being tipsy means that you have zero filter. “Uh…so what do you do?” you randomly ask Sero. “Like, for work?” 

Sero stares at you, perplexed, his pink, pierced lips wrapped around a straw to his glass of water. You flush with embarrassment and go to apologize for being too personal, but his smile eases your nerves. “Relax,” he chuckles. “It ain’t like you asked me what my social security is.” You return the smile, becoming accustomed to his humor and laid-back attitude. “I’m a house renovator, so I fix up houses for people to rent, buy, or put on the market. I’ve got my own business back in Japan. I’m also a dance instructor on the side.” 

Your ears perk at his hustle. So he’s got money and he can dance? “So you’re extremely talented, basically.” It could be the trick of the lights, but you think you see Sero’s cheeks grow pink. “I try. What about you?” You tell him your job along with what you do all day while working at it five days a week. His handsome face scrunches in pain. “That’s a great job, but it sounds time-consuming. You ever get bored or have time for yourself?” 

You discard your water and sip on the rest of your Mojito, nearly forgetting it was there. “Time for myself is what the weekends are for,” you joke. “But in all seriousness, some of the time I get tired of it. That’s why my friends and I booked this trip as a way to relax and boost my confidence.” 

Your eyes widen when you realize what you just said. 'Fuck!’ you think, panicking. Goddamn, the alcohol! Why does it have to make your tongue so loose and you so dumb?

Sero’s eyes flash with interest. “Boost your confidence?” he asks, quirking a brow at you that makes him look increasingly hotter. “How so?” He leans in as if to kiss you, a secretive smile curling onto his lips. You avert your eyes, hoping he doesn’t see the fear in them. You hope he doesn’t push this. You couldn’t bear the thought of telling a stranger all about your problems with your body and dating. 

“I’m kidding,” he finally says, probably noticing your change in demeanor. “You don’t have to tell me, but you could’ve fooled me ‘cause the outfit is certainly doin’ its job.” His eyes trail across your form in your outfit, making your body feel like it just got stuck in an oven. “Does that confidence-boosting also include dancing like your friends are?” he asks, nodding at the dance floor. There, you see Mina and Uraraka on the floor, twirling their hips and sipping on their drinks, carefree and beautiful. 

You don’t think you could be that carefree with so many eyes on you. It’s different in the comfort of your own home, but here? It’s just too harrowing of an idea. “I-I don’t dance,” you timidly admit to Sero. “Not ‘cause I can’t, but I just…don’t.” 

Sero scowls confusedly at you, his brows furrowing. “Why?” he asks, sounding absolutely baffled. “When the music is this good, it’s just too good to not move! You know how to salsa? Or bachata?” You stare at him, gobsmacked. This man can really move like that? “You teach all of that?” you ask, suddenly even hotter knowing this. You can only imagine how his hips can move in bed. 

Sero smirks proudly. “Damn right,” he chuckles. “And I’m gonna teach you. You’ve got the best in the business, baby.” He takes his hand in yours and helps you down off of your stool. But before he can lead to you the dance floor, you pull him back. “Wait!” you protest. He peers over his shoulder at you and you feel your stomach flutter with butterflies. “I-I don’t know if I’ve got dancing shoes.” 

The sexy stranger turns around to face you, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Really?” he asks. “That’s the best you’ve got?” You stare down at your shoes, even more apprehensive. It’s bad enough that you’re afraid of how you’ll look, but you’ve never had a man ask you to dance with him on the floor before. You’ve never had a man pursue you in such a way. You’re not sure how to handle it or what you’re even doing. 

You’re aware of Sero getting closer to you until all you see is his chest in your face. He leans down to whisper in your ear, his cologne fogging your senses and self-control. “If you’re worried about what you look like, don’t. You’ve got people in here who dance worse and if you step on my toes, I’ll just act like it didn’t happen.”

At this, you smile though hesitantly. “There’s that smile,” he coos, interlacing his fingers with yours. “C’mon, before the song ends.” 

The song playing now is one you recognize from TikTok from the Spanish guitars and Latin beat pumping through the speakers that you’d roll your hips into a mirror to. The strobe lights have now brightened to a seductive red that makes the dance floor look like it’s on fire. Sero leads you to a space on the dance floor between the grinding club-goers and stands in front of you, his height blocking the others dancing behind him. 

You rigidly stand with his hand in yours a good distance away from him. You can already feel yourself wanting to run. The confidence that the alcohol provided you is starting to fade. All you want to do now is go back to your hotel room and go to sleep. ‘No,’ you think stubbornly. ‘You’re not doing that. You came here to find confidence and this man is trying to help you with that.’ 

Sero smirks jokingly at you. Unaware to you, he thinks your shyness is the cutest thing in the world. He’d fuck you right here in front of the whole club if he could. “You’ve gotta stand a little closer than that,” he chuckles. With some hesitation, you move an inch closer to him, barely toe to toe with him.

“Closer,” he teasingly repeats. Maybe it's the guitars in the song or the intensity of his gaze on you, but you find yourself moving closer to him like a moth being beckoned by a flame. Suddenly, you’re close enough to kiss him, your nose nearly brushing his chest.

“Perfecto,” he whispers, and it has your heart racing like it’s trying to win a track race. “Now you put one hand on my shoulder.” Keeping one of your hands interlocked with his, you raise your free hand and place it on his broad shoulder. 

Then his hands are on your hips, secure and…nice. This feels nice. “Is it okay if I hold you like this?” he asks, his lips at your ear. You can barely speak––your throat is dry and your mind has gone completely blank. “Give me your words, mami,” he demands though not aggressively. The pet name, along with his accent curling around the almost-forbidden word, has you blushing profusely and thanking the Lord that He made you a Black woman. 

Sero tenses as soon as the word flies, pulling away to apologize face to face. “Sorry,” he says embarrassingly, a blush coating his cheeks. “No,” you protest, shaking your head. “I-I like it. And it’s fine…you holding me like this, that is.” A beaming smile crosses his lips; one that makes you smile too and seems to ease the awkwardness of the situation.

“Now just follow me,” he instructs you. “When my foot goes back, yours goes forward, like this.” He puts one foot back and you timidly bring yours forward. “Now vice versa,” he says before bringing his foot back to the front. You pick up on things quickly and press your foot back. “Good!” he praises you. “Now let’s try it with the music. It goes 1, 2, 3…1, 2, 3…just like the beat. Listen to the beat.” 

You do as he says and listen to the music, trying to match your foot movement with the rhythm. Sero is a natural at this, as he should be since it’s his side hustle. He moves like he is the damn music, his body turning into water. His moves are loose and languid but not out-of-beat or uncontrolled. His back is straight, his shoulders are squared, and his hips? They roll like fucking waves.

You find yourself wanting to touch them; roll your tongue against them and the washboard abs you know are just up under his shirt. He never lets you go as you attempt to copy his moves and his confidence. And yes, you step on his feet a few times, but he never loses that patient, kind smile. Soon, you start to feel more comfortable and your moves grow looser than before. 

Sero feels your body relax and his eyes gleam with excitement. “There we go!” he laughs. “And you said you were worried about havin’ the wrong shoes. You’re a natural at this.” He twirls you twice, making you giddy and dizzy with joy. You are hot and sweaty, and your makeup has probably seen better days, but you don’t care. You feel good, all because of the man you're dancing with tonight. 

Suddenly, a newfound confidence blooms inside of you that could either be from the alcohol or from the closeness of this fine-ass man. One that has your hand moving from his shoulder to his chest, just briefly caressing it. “I guess it helps to have a good teacher,” you say in a tone that you’ve never heard come out of your mouth before. It is low and sensual. 

Sero notices it immediately. His kind smile turns into one that is more secretive like he is hiding something you don’t know about. He twirls you once more, causing your braids to fly around you and a laugh to burst from your mouth. Then he’s yanking you to him, emitting a surprised gasp from your lips when you find yourself chest-to-chest with him. One of his big hands moves to caress your lower back while the other still holds yours. He stares deep into your eyes as he begins to move his hips against yours, rolling and grinding his body into your own.

Suddenly, like a cliche romance trope, everyone disappears and all that is left are you and him. You only see him. You only know him. From somewhere on the floor, Mina and Uraraka shriek, hyping you up. “Yaaaasss, Y/N!” Mina screeches, much louder than Uraraka and the music. “Get it, girl!” 

Before you even realize it, you’re grinding right back onto him, rolling your hips into his. He twirls you around once more, but doesn’t allow you to face him again. Instead, he presses his front against your back and grinds against you from there. His hands grip your hips, coaxing you to wind your ass back into him. You get lost in the music and in him, feeling safe in his arms despite only knowing him for an hour or so.

“You’ve got it,” he laughs into your ear, making your inner thighs tingle. “You were so scared to do this, and now look at you. I bet every man in here is jealous that I get to be the one to dance with such a pretty thing like you.” 

Those words are what do it for you, and before you even realize it, you're looping your arms around his neck to bring him closer and turning your face to kiss him. It is a quick kiss, but it’s enough to have your heart hammering even faster and your stomach twirling. When you pull away, Sero's eyes are wide, a shocked expression on his face.

You immediately jump away and cover your mouth, horrified. “I’m so sorry!” you immediately apologize. “I-I don’t know why I…” You trail off, suddenly feeling disgusting and awful. Your confidence is gone and the effects of the alcohol are waning. "I should go,” you whisper, on the verge of tears. 

But as you turn to storm off the dance floor, Sero stops you by grabbing your wrist. “No,” he says, a silent plea in his eyes. “Don’t go.” 

Before you can even process what’s happening, one of his arms is looping around your waist while his hand gently cups your cheek. His lips are then on yours, planting one of the softest, hottest kisses you’ve ever had on you. His lips are smooth and soft, his piercings tickling your bottom lip. Your lips dance against his until you give a soft moan of longing as your arms move to wrap around him, hugging him close. Your parted lips allow him to slip his tongue into your mouth, the taste of rum and mint there as his tongue gently swirls with yours. You hold each other, kissing among the sea of people. Once again, you feel as if there is no one but you, him, and the throbbing of the music above. 

Unfortunately, the moment is interrupted when the club-goers surrounding you begin to annoyingly scream and whoop over you and Sero. “Oh, shit, they 'bout to fuck on the floor!” someone obnoxiously screams over the music.

Sero pulls away from you, eyeing the faceless voice. “Let me join!” another shouts. 

“Fuck off!” Mina yells from somewhere behind you. “Leave them alone!” You’ve never been so thankful for your friends than at this moment.

Sero smirks down at you, arms still around your waist. “We’ve got ourselves an audience,” he whispers. “Not that I mind some eyes, but I’m more interested in getting you somewhere more…private.” 

His accent makes the word sound like sex to you. Even if that isn’t on the table, you’ll still go anywhere with him. “Where’d you have in mind?” you breathlessly ask.

He trails his fingers from your waist up your arms to lace through your fingers. “Well, if you want the bedroom now, I’m down for that,” he says, making your pussy quiver excitedly beneath your skirt, “but there’s also a cabana on the beach that’s screaming my name right now if you wanted a good view and some quiet.” 

‘Yes!’ your body screams. ‘Do it, bitch!’ But even you know that you can’t give it up to him that fast. All good things come to those who wait, after all. “I’d love that,” you shyly answer. “Can we finish the shots first though?”

You nod at the bar to which Sero chuckles, raising a brow at you. “If you’re dying to get beat by me at my own game, then sure.” 

********* 

The sea is by far the most especially thing you’ve ever seen. It looks even better while drunk. 

After downing two more shots and guzzling down water (and taking a trip to the bathroom beforehand), Sero swoops you away to the seashore right outside the resort where the ocean stretches out for your eyes to behold under the big, white moon that looks so much bigger in the sky tonight. It hovers over the water, making the waves crystalize like diamonds below, just as the stars in the ink-black sky do.

“Oh, wow,” you gasp, in awe at the beauty laid before you. “This is beautiful! Look at the moon and the stars!” 

You stand at the top of the sandy shore, pointing at the sky with your heels in your hands. The sea breeze wafts your hair and cools the sweat on your body from the club. You feel good away from the people and activity now, the serenity that the beach provides is too nice to put off. 

Sero is settled down beside you in one of the many cabanas lined up on the beach that are currently empty. He sits on the bed there with his shoes off and an almost-dazed look on his face as he stares at the ocean. “Look at the stars,” he softly sings. “Look how they shine for you…” His cheeks turn red as he stares up at you sheepishly. “Sorry, I’m a little drunk.” 

“Me too,” you giggle. “I need to sit down.” You put a hand to your head, feeling light and slightly dizzy from the alcohol. Sero pats the empty seat next to him, smiling up at you. “Feel free, mama. This cabana is open for two.” You flush with heat despite the coolness of the salty, sea breeze as you sit beside him, feeling flustered at being so close to him. Now you don’t have the shots or the music as buffers. There is nothing but the sea and the empty beach. 

However, the silence isn’t awkward––it’s rather peaceful and serene. You dig your toes into the sand while Sero hums to himself, digging into his pocket. He then pulls out a ziplock bag of a few pre-rolled blunts and a lighter. “Mind if I smoke?” he asks, pausing to look at you for an answer. You shake your head, giving him the green light to do his thing. You watch as he works, entranced by his veiny hands as he takes out a blunt and ignites the lighter to lit the tip of it. 

You wish his hands were working you instead. 

Still entranced by him, you watch as he wraps his lips around the blunt and takes a short tester puff before putting the lighter away. He takes a deep inhale before exhaling all of the smoke out of his mouth, a peaceful look on his face. “I love doing this on the beach,” he contently sighs. “Nothing like a view of the stars and saltwater breeze while you puff on a blunt.” He gazes at you out of the corner of his eye. “And sitting with a pretty woman.” 

“Whatever,” you tsk, gently smacking his thigh to hide the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “You’re just sayin’ that to make me feel good.” He takes another hit of his blunt, though short. “Well, yeah,” he admits, "but also ‘cause it’s true. You are pretty. Did you see the way the security guard was checkin’ you out when we left?” 

You retrace your mental steps to try to remember, but come up short. “Uh…no,” you respond, not sure if you believe him. He laughs at this, smoke billowing from his mouth. “Exactly, ‘cause you were oblivious to it, but not me. You had eyes on you like bees on honey.” He then holds the blunt between his thumb and forefinger out to you. “Want a hit? You smoke?” You look down at the blunt, slightly intimidated. Then, for some reason, the thrill of trying something new floods you. “Not really,” you admit. "But there’s a first time for everything.” 

You take the blunt between your thumb and forefinger before trying to imitate Sero’s actions. You wrap your lips around the end of the blunt and inhale only to nearly hack up a lung when the smoke invades your lungs. Sero laughs at you while patting you on the back, helping you out. “Take it easy, mama,” he chuckles. “Second time’s the charm as I say. Do it slower.” 

You do as he says and inhale the smoke much slower than before. It goes down easier the second time and you’re even able to hold it in your lungs for longer before exhaling. “Theeeere we go,” Sero praises with a laugh. “I love a girl who doesn’t quit.” 

He lets you puff on the blunt for a few minutes longer, gazing out at the starry sky and sea. He then glances at you, an unreadable expression on his face. “Please tell me if this is too personal, but I’m curious about you coming here to boost your confidence. I’d think a woman as beautiful as you are would have plenty of confidence in herself.” 

You can already feel the weed beginning to work its magic. You feel relaxed and kind of sleepy, but not enough to pass out. All of the insecurities and uncertainty you felt before have washed away. You pass Sero the blunt and sit back on your hands, exposing your jiggly tummy a little more. “Well, the reason I’m here is after a hookup gone wrong where this dude told me I was too fat and left in the middle of sex with me. I was gutted by it, so when my girls told me about their trip, I took that chance and came here.” 

You inhale the sea breeze and exhale solemnly, catching Sero’s attention…not that you didn’t have it already. “Finding love when you look like me,” you confess, running a hand over your body. “Like the dating pool isn’t built for girls like me. I’ve tried dating so many times, online manly, but as soon as a guy gets a view of me from the waist down, they want nothing to do with me. If I’m not seen as some extra pushin’ for the cushion, I’m not seen at all.” 

You’re aware that you’re oversharing, but the alcohol, weed, and Sero’s warm personality have all made it where you’re like an open book now. “Not that I mind being perceived sexually,” you reiterate, “but I feel like that’s all guys see when they look at me. I’m a fetish; not a woman who is worthy of affection as well as desire. I deserve better, y’know? I’ve got a good job, a car, an apartment, a pretty face…like everything I have should be worthy to get me a good partner, right? But it’s not. All because of…of…this.” 

You grip the jiggly fat of your stomach, huffing frustratedly to yourself. “I don’t hate being in my body, but society does.” Instantly, like a slap in the face, you realize you’ve fucked up. “Sorry!” you immediately gasp. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I said way too much.” 

Sero is staring at you like he just realized you’re a person and you feel even worse. “Look, I don’t mean to pile this all on you, but you’re so easy to talk to and this weed is gettin’ to me and–“ You abruptly stop when Sero suddenly stands. He takes another puff on his blunt before dropping it into the sand and stubbing it out with his foot. 

He then proceeds to kick off his shoes and socks, strip himself of his shirt to reveal his beautiful body, and reach for his belt to loosen his pants. When his pants fall, you can’t help but admire how good he looks in his briefs. You stare at him, confused, hot, and bothered by the gorgeous view. “What are you doing?” you softly ask. 

“Let’s take a dip,” he says huskily. You stare at him, dumbfounded. Is he serious, drunk, or just high as a kite? “But…I don’t have a bathing suit.” Sero raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Who said anything about that?” Now you know that this man is gone. There’s no way he is seriously considering skinny-dipping…and there’s no way that you’re actually thinking about it! He must see you fighting with yourself because he runs a comforting, soft hand down your arm, his touch making you shiver. “I’d like to see you,” he murmurs, “if that’s okay.” 

You search his face to see if he’s joking or daring you only to laugh at you when you do so, but you find no indication that he’s playing with you. There is a molten tenderness in his gaze that has you shivering in pleasure and anticipation, wondering what else he has in store for you.

So you strip. You start with your top and then your skirt, biting your lip at his sharp intake of breath at the sight of your underwear. Then you’re stripping off your bra, letting your full breasts fall from the cups and against your stomach. Sero’s eyes widen at the sight of you as if you are a piece of art he is admiring in a museum. “Hermosa (beautiful),” he whispers, completely in awe at your body.

You’ve taken enough Spanish in school to know what this word means and it lights your body on fire. He then offers his hand which you take, giggling when he pulls you along to the ocean. “Come on,” he laughs. “Vamos, before the water gets too cold!” 

You want to ask him what the fuck he means because the water is like you stepped into the damn Arctic Ocean when your semi-naked body finally makes contact with it. You gasp as the water shocks your body out of its tired state from the alcohol and weed. Sero keeps his hand in yours despite the crashing waves that roll against your bodies the further you wad into the ocean. Finally, you two settle and just let the water caress you. You sigh in contentment as you tip your head up towards the sky, admiring the stars twinkling above. 

“Nice, right?” Sero chuckles. You lazily nod, wanting to stay here forever––among the water, stars, and him. You don’t realize how close he’s gotten to you until you’re suddenly staring at his upper torso and the water beads that drip down his abs. “Can I hold you?” he gently asks. You peer up at him through your lashes, afraid to speak in fear of ruining the moment. 

You nod and he slowly wraps his arms around you, engulfing you in them. You let yourself be pulled into him, sighing when your head meets the crook of his shoulder. You embrace him back, crushing your breasts against his hard chest. There, you two stay, bobbing in the water, linked with one another. “This feels so nice,” you drunkenly confess. “Like a fairytale.” 

“I’d hope so,” he murmurs to you. “You deserve it, mami.” And you start to believe it. After a few silent seconds, he pulls away from you, his eyes as dark as the night sky. “Can I kiss you?” he asks, his gaze hopeful. “I know I didn’t ask in the club and I feel bad about that, so I wanted to ask you now and–“ 

You don’t hear the rest of what he has to say because you’re too busy planting your lips on his. This kiss is hungrier now. Your lips move against each other’s like you both are starving for one another. You can tell Sero wants the same thing you want when his hands move below your waist to squeeze your ass, the feeling making you moan into his mouth. He replies with his own moan and pulls away, his eyes glazed over with lust.

He wordlessly kneels before you in the water and takes both of your breasts into his hands, kneading them gently. “Shit,” he softly hisses to himself, amazed at the sight of your hanging fruit and brown, hardened nipples. 

You softly whimper at his calloused hands caressing your sensitive breasts causing him to move on to other matters. He leans in and latches his lips onto one of your nipples where he begins to suckle on it. You throw your head back to stare at the endless sky, your mouth open in an O as pleasured moans fall from your lips. You can’t yourself, especially when Sero begins to suckle and flick his tongue along the sensitive bud of your nipple, his hand kneading your other breast in the process. 

Then he switches, giving your other breast the same treatment. Your hands find his hair, your fingers aimlessly wandering through the black locks of his hair. You’re ruining his mullet, but he doesn’t seem to care. He is more concerned with nibbling along your nipple, making you sharply inhale before your voice chokes on a broken moan.

You can’t take this. All of this is going straight to your pussy which is now throbbing and begging for attention between your thick inner thighs. “Please, Sero!” you whine, gripping his hair. “I need you to touch me.” Understanding immediately, Sero stares up at you, looking uncertain. He then stands, his body dripping in water, making your pussy throb even more at the sight of his glistening muscles. “You sure you want this?” he asks, his voice low and hushed. 

You practically throw yourself at him, giving him a deep, passionate kiss that nearly takes his breath away. “Yes,” you plead. “Yes, Sero, please. I don’t care, just please touch me.”

You grapple for his shoulders, gripping them in desperation. You don't care how much you come off as desperate or slutty to be sleeping with a man you just met. You need this right now. And Sero is willing to give it all to you. “Okay, baby, okay,” he shushes you, pressing a chaste kiss to your waiting lips. “Let’s get us out of the water first.” He takes your hand and helps you navigate the waves as you make your way out of the water. Once you’re out and standing naked on the shore, you realize the gravity of what you just asked and initiated. Especially when Sero leads you to the cabana. Your eyes flit up to the resort yards away, realizing anyone could come out and see you two naked. “Will anyone see us?” you timidly ask.

“They may, they may not,” Sero replies, a devious smirk on his face. “If they do, they’re in for a treat watchin’ a gorgeous woman gettin’ her pussy eaten.” He then sits you down on the bed and kneels down in front of you. He gently pries your thighs open, revealing your sobbing, wet pussy. You watch his face change from playful to downright feral as he stares at your cunt. You flush at his expression, still feeling weird about this despite how hot and bothered you are. “But what if–“ 

He shushes you, leaning forward to press wet kisses along your inner thighs. “No more talkin’, mami,” he growls against your inner thighs. “I want my name on your lips if not those pretty moans I heard in the water earlier.” He continues to pepper your thighs in kisses while his hands pin your legs apart, his hold on you firm. He doesn’t want you hiding from him despite your cellulite and stretch marks, and rolls and imperfections. And it feels good. 

You don’t stop him when he dives right into your pussy, first peppering your lips and clit in open-mouthed kisses as if he’s making out with them. You can’t believe the way this man works his mouth! Especially when he starts to flick his tongue along your clit. His tongue swirls around it and flicks it gently depending on how you respond. And shit, are you responding well! Your body can't help but react pleasantly to the sensations––your toes curl; your back arches; your eyes flutter closed; your mouth falls open into an O as moans and gasps fall from your lips. 

Sero is not only good with his tongue, but also with his hands. He reaches up and plays with your titties, tweaking and pinching your nipples according to your verbal cues. “H-Harder, please!” you beg to which he pinches the hard, brown peaks a little harder, the bursts of pain making you gush all over his lips. “Fuck, Sero,” you moan. “That feels so good!” 

Sero moans approvingly into your cunt, the vibrations making your clit quiver pleasurably. “Keep feelin’ good for me then, mami,” he says in between wet flicks of his tongue on your rosebud. “Lean back and wrap your thighs around my head. I can handle it.”

He pauses to stare up into your shocked eyes, a grin on his face and a pussy-drunk look in his eyes. You’ve never had anyone ask that of you before. Plus, your thighs really are on the thicker side. What if you suffocate him? Before you can even agree or refuse, he is already pushing you back onto the bed, emitting a squeal from you. 

He stands on his knees for a moment, taking you in. His lust-blown eyes trail up and down your naked form, drinking in every part of you that you either like or dislike. Then he inhales deeply as if struggling to process the beauty in front of him. “Tu cuerpo es un país de las maravillas, mami (your body is a wonderland, mami),” he huskily says. You have no idea what to say to that. All you can do is shyly smile up at him as he smiles down at you, both of you enchanted with each other. 

Then he’s ducking back down and throwing your thighs across his shoulders with ease, wrapping your legs around his head. This gives him better access to your pussy so he can easily tongue-fuck you. As soon as you feel the wet muscle entering your wet folds and his nose brush against your clit, you are in heaven. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your hands find his hair, gripping the black locks as your hips begin to grind shamelessly into his face.

“Mmm-hmm,” he hums approvingly, keeping up the pace. He doesn’t pause or slow down. He continues to work your pussy just how you want, making you see stars behind your eyelids and cry to the moon above. 

It doesn’t take long for that feeling of release to dawn on you. You can’t help it. His tongue just feels too good! Plus, the atmosphere and the whole idea of getting caught in such a risqué position turns you on more than you’d like to admit. Sero must realize you’re close because his jaw starts to move faster, accompanying his tonguefucking with porn-worthy moans of his own that nearly throw you over the edge. “Fuck, Sero!” you whine. “You gotta stop or I’m gonna cum!” 

“Mmm-hmm!” he eagerly hums into your pussy. He pulls his tongue out of your hole and proceeds to suck on your clit while his finger begins to stroke the outside of your slit, barely touching your insides. But it is enough to push you further and further down that road to orgasming all over him. His darkened eyes flick up to yours, staring you down between your thighs. “Ven por mí,” he demands. “Cum for me, baby. Don’t fuckin’ hold back a damn thing.” He grins up at you, his piercings glistening in the moonlight. “I can take it; I’m a big boy.” 

He attaches your mouth to your pussy again and runs it until you can't help but fall over that edge. “Ven por mí,” he moans into your cunt, becoming gradually louder as your moans reach higher pitches. “Ven por mí, ven por mí, ven por mí!” 

And you finally do. That tight knot in your core finally snaps and a wave of euphoria washes over you as you cum all over Sero's face and eager lips with a loud moan that would shatter glass. You see the entire galaxy and beyond as your pussy gushes, your body shivering and shuddering. Your back arches and your hips wind into Sero’s face, trying to keep as much of the feeling going as possible.

When it finally fades, you’re left feeling tired, spent, and oh-so-good. Sero eagerly cleans you up, taking extra care to not overstimulate you as he runs his tongue over your sensitive, twitching pussy. Then he lifts his head up away from your thighs, giving you a peak of his chin and mouth shining in your juices. With the moon in his glazed eyes, he hums to himself. “You taste better than the rum,” he sighs. 

Something in that sentence and the way he looks at you brings something out of you––a passionate, raging fire that can only be tamed by him. Slowly, you bring yourself to sit up in front of him and grab his face to smash your lips against his. He moans into the kiss, surprised at the suddenness of it, but soon melts into it the more your lips move against his. Finally, you pull away and stare into his eyes. “I take it you liked it?” he breathlessly asks. 

“I loved it,” you purr, running your hands up and down his tatted chest. “Now I want to thank you in my way…if that’s okay with you.”

Your eyes trail down to the bulge in his briefs that has only gotten bigger. You also notice the visible wet spot soaking the fabric, meaning the guy was secreting precum when he was eating you out. The idea of this makes the fire inside of you grow. You may as well have told him you want to give him a million dollars with how fast he scrambles up on the bed, ready for whatever you want to do with him. You giggle, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before laying him down on his back. 

Keeping your eyes locked with his, you slither between his thick, muscular thighs and finally, finally, getting at those briefs. You gently pull them down, being careful to not scratch him with your nails, and gasping softly when his cock springs free from its trap. It pops up like a Jack-in-the-Box, hard, thick, and veiny. There is nothing but smooth skin down there, Sero’s pubic hair completely shaven. He notices you looking and blushes. “I sweat a lot down there in the summertime,” he sheepishly explains. “So I shaved…it isn't weird, is it?” 

You don’t even answer him. You just wordlessly take his dick in your hand, your pussy throbbing at how heavy it feels in your palm. You feel him tense at the feeling of your soft hand on him which coaxes you to begin stroking him, just seeing how he feels. He is soft and smooth, his skin stretching back and forth along his dick as you stroke him.

You pay attention to his body language, peering up at him every so often to see how he’s responding to your touch. He lays with his hands fisting the cushions underneath him, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and his eyes closed. Deciding you’ve got him right where you want him, you spit into the palm of your hand and continue to stroke him, lubing him up.

Once his dick is shining in your spit, you attach your lips to the top half of him while your hand busies itself with the bottom half. “Fuck,” Sero sighs when your lips wrap around his shaft. “Tan apretada (so tight)…” 

You hollow your cheeks and open your throat to take him easier, realizing how big he is the moment he enters your mouth. He practically stretches your throat! How would it feel to get him inside of you? The thought makes you curious to take him deeper. After a few slow test runs where you slide your mouth up and down along his head, you begin taking him deeper. Sero’s hand moves to your head while his other arm moves behind his head, his hooded eyes gazing down at you.

“Easy, mama,” he coos. “Take your time. Don’t take any more than you think you can.” You do as he says, only taking as much as your throat will allow. You gag around his cock as you begin to bob your head up and down along it, emitting orgasmic groans and swears in Spanish from his sinful lips. “Mierda! (Shit!)” he hisses, his hand tightening on your hair. “Lo estás haciendo tan bien…you’re doin’ so good for me, baby.” 

He continues to whisper praise as you gag and bob around him, using as much of your skill as you can. This includes using your free hand to stroke his balls, tugging on them when he begs you to. You ignore the ache of your knees in the sand and the tears pricking at your eyes, no doubt fucking up your eye makeup. The control he allows you makes you want to give him the best neck of his life, hopefully causing him to nut deep down your throat. You’ll gladly take all of it. 

Soon he begins to thrust into your mouth, his hips bumping against your chin as his cock fucks your throat. “Still doin’ okay?” he asks, to which you nod, emitting a moan from him when the roof of your mouth slides along his dick. “God, you look so good with my cock in your mouth,” he whines. Wouldn’t it be somethin’ if someone came out here and saw me fuckin’ that pretty throat of yours?” 

You tilt your head up to look up at him better, loving the view of his body as he bumps your hips against your face again and again. Spit drips from your lips the sloppier your head gets, only making him fuck your face harder. “You like that idea, don’t you?” he chuckles breathlessly. “Naughty girl. What if that someone is one of your girlfriends? What if it’s a resort worker? You wanna be seen on your knees with dick deep down your throat?” 

‘Yes,’ you think, your pussy crying beneath you. ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ You want that more than anything. You don't care how slutty that makes you. You want to be his slut tonight. You want to be his everything and more, if just for one night. Before you can eagerly finish him off, he slides his wet cock out of your mouth, sighing as he does so. You look up at him, confused. Doesn’t he want to cum down your throat? 

“You can say no if you want to,” he says, his chest heaving, “but I’m gonna be real with you: I wanna fuck you. I don’t care if it’s out here or back at one of our rooms, but if I’m gonna cum, I wanna feel that pussy wrapped around me first.” His words cause your pussy to gush desperately around nothing. You’ve never wanted someone inside you more. “I want that too,” you breathlessly answer, hurriedly getting to your feet. Sero does the same, taking your hands in his. “We can go back to my room, if you want. If the girls are there, we can go to yours.” 

Sero is more than happy to agree with that judging by how his cock twitches between his thighs. 

After gathering your clothes and other items, you both hastily dress in the resort robes to avoid getting kicked out of the lobby for entering nude before hurrying to the resort and through the lobby for the elevators. You use your key card to get upstairs, giggling at Sero’s wandering hands along your hips and his lips on your neck. When you finally make it to your floor, the man carries you–carries you–to your room. When you’re finally at your door, you press a finger to your lips, signaling for his silence. You’re not sure if the girls are back yet. 

Carefully, you unlock your door with the card and open the door to find your hotel room still quiet, dark, and neatly cleaned, meaning only the floor maid was in here. You’re going to feel so bad for ruining her nice work later, but you can’t bring yourself to feel bad now.

When the door finally shuts, Sero is on you instantly, his hands ripping off your robe and his lips hastily moving against yours. You’re no better. You can't stop yourself from tossing his clothes off too, revealing his naked body and hard cock in the silver moonlight that pours through the window overlooking the resort’s pool and beach in the distance. “I need to fuck you,” he huffs against your lips, his hands squeezing your ass. “Is it okay if I do that? It’s okay to say no if you don’t–“ 

You silence him with a kiss, gently sucking on his tongue and exposing yourself for your oral fixation. “Shut up and fuck me, Sero,” you purr to him. “I want you to take me to my bed and fill my pussy up the way I know you can.” You then pluck the robe tie from the floor, dangling it in his face. “And I want you to use this on me…please?” Despite feeling emboldened to talk to him in such a demanding manner, that shyness still peeks through. 

Sero looks stunned at your naughty request before a smile creeps onto his lips. “I should’ve realized how freaky you were,” he murmurs before pressing a wet, passionate kiss on your lips that makes you think of his mouth in other places. “Let’s waste no more time then.” He takes your hand and leads you to your bed which is right across from Mina and Uraraka’s. You were so happy that your room came with separate beds since you like to sleep with your panties off. 

As soon as you plop down on the bed, Sero is hovering over you, his knees on either side of your body. He holds the rope in his hands, staring down at you questionably. With a nod and a reassuring smile, you raise your wrists towards him. Take me.

He doesn’t need any other confirmation that this is what you want. He takes your wrists and wraps them in the tie before attaching them to your headboard so your wrists dangle. “Good?” he asks. You move your wrists around, testing out the new binds. Not too tight but not too loose either.

You nod and he pecks you on the lips before prying your thighs apart. You raise your hips up to meet him, gasping when his cock begins to slide against your slit. His eyes, hooded and hazy with lust, tick up to meet yours. “You still want this?” he huskily asks. You nod, whimpering with need and already yanking helplessly on your binds. 

“No,” he firmly replies. “Don’t just nod. I need your words, mami. Tell me you want me.” He slides his cock up, nudging the head against your clit. “Tell me you want all of this dick inside of this pretty lil’ pussy.” You moan in pure desperation, going crazy with need. “Yes, I want you!” you cry out, tears pricking your eyes. “Please, Sero! Please just fuck me, Papi!” 

The word slips out before you realize it, but Sero catches it immediately. You see his eyes widen an inch and then, in a flash, his entire personality shifts. As soon as he finally slides his cock head inside of you, you know that this is a different person in your bed. He is no longer the sweet, upbeat, concerned man you met earlier at the nightclub, but someone more dominant. Someone who has no problem breaking you completely and then putting you back together again. It’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever experienced.

“Say that again,” he growls, beginning to roll his hips, sliding his cock head in and out of you at a slow, teasing pace. “Call me that again.” 

Weak moans leave your quivering lips as you struggle to stay still, afraid he’ll stop if you move. “Papi,” you whine, “please, please fuck me. I can't take much more of this. Please, please just–“ 

Your pleas are silenced when Sero slides in a little deeper, filling you up. A mutual gasp leaves your lips as your pussy walls tighten around him, keeping him nice and snug inside of you. He keeps up the slow thrusts, letting you get used to his girth. “That feel good, mami?” he huffs. “You like this?” 

As if he can’t see your eyes rolling into the back of your head and hear the moans coming out of you. “Yes, papi!” you sob. “Yes, I love it! Please go deeper!” Sero does just that, his hands gripping your hips as he begins to bump his hips against you a little faster now, never going any harder than you want him to. It is just the right speed and pressure to slide against your G-spot, causing you to cry to the ceiling. 

“Yeah,” Sero laughs, staring down at you. “You like this. You love gettin’ filled by a stranger’s dick, don’t you?” His hand finds your throat, applying a bit of pressure and emitting a gasp from you. “This was all you needed to give you that confidence boost, right? Just to get slutted out the way you need to be.” 

“Sero,” you groan, your pussy squeezing and clenching around his cock from his words. He leans down close to you, his lips nearly grazing yours as he continues to fuck you into the mattress. “But only I could’ve done this job right,” he whispers. “Only I can fuck you good like this. Right, princessa?”

His hips move faster, harder, his pelvis bumping against your throbbing clit that is close to exploding from the amount of stimulation and care it’s receiving. “Sero!” you loudly sob, gripping the tie around your wrists for dear life. Without a warning, Sero suddenly tosses your legs up to your ears so he can sink in deeper, causing you to nearly scream out as you see heaven’s light before your eyes.

“Tell me,” he grunts, his eyes posted firmly on yours. “Tell me only I can fuck you right like this. Tell me how good it feels!” Whines begin to leave his lips the more rapidly he fucks you, causing your titties to jiggle and the bed to rock. 

“So good!” you babble as your pussy squelches and clenches around him. “You’re making me feel so good, papi! I’m gonna cum soon!” You can feel your orgasm beginning to rise the more he grinds his cock into you, filling you to the brim with him. 

“Me too,” he groans. “Dios mío (my God), you just feel to fuckin’ good. And you look so pretty stretched around my dick.” He takes his hand off of your neck and strokes your cheek, his thumb swiping against your bottom lip.

“Eres tan bonita (you’re so pretty),” he murmurs, staring down at you in utter adoration. “Eres mia…you’re mine now, honey. I don’t give a fuck if it’s just for the rest of your vacation. I’ll make you mine again and again, every fuckin’ day and night, so you won’t even look at another man back at home.” 

He begins to fuck you right into the headboard where luckily you have a pillow to cushion the blows. The feeling of him hitting that spot again and again without fail is so intense that you can’t help the noises that escape you––screams, cries, and sobs of pure, molten pleasure that you know you’ll never get again. He knows it too and that’s why he begins to slow down, working his hips the way he did on that dance floor. It’s too much on your body, too much on your pussy, and you can feel yourself beginning to reach your limit. 

Sero leans down to your ear, nibbling on the flesh of your earlobe. “I want you to cum with me,” he whispers into your ear. “Cum around this dick. Cum for me, mami.” He repeats the same line in Spanish, his husky voice filling your ear as his cock kisses your G-spot and his fingers move down to rub your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the brink of no return. 

It doesn't take long for you to finally burst around his cock the way you want to. You cum with a long, loud moan that tears out of you as your orgasm washes over you. The moment your pussy clenches around Sero’s cock is the moment he cums too. He grips your hips and swears in Spanish before he pulls out.

It doesn't take long for him. He rapidly pumps his cock in front of your face before his nut spurts all over your body. You gasp as his moans bounce off of the walls, his cum feeling warm on your skin. When you look down, you find it the creamy substance coating your breasts, thighs, and jiggly tummy. There’s even some on your ass due to how high he has your legs up. You are completely covered in him and his scent. And you love it. 

Finally, after he feebly gropes one of your breasts and presses a kiss to your foot, Sero unties your wrists and pulls his flaccid cock out of your tender, sensitive pussy, emitting a soft, weak moan from you. Then he’s rolling off of you and plopping down beside you on your bed, exhaustion overtaking him. 

The two of you lay there in silence for a moment, basking in the afterglow and processing what just happened. You just had sex with a total stranger. You let him tie you up and fuck you. You let him see your naked body. What shocks you is though you feel stunned at the whole thing, there is no ounce of shame or embarrassment anywhere inside of you. If anything, you feel satisfied with what just transpired.

You turn to Sero, realizing he’s looking at you already, his eyes shimmering in the slant of moonlight pouring through the window. “I meant what I said, you know,” he says, sounding out of breath. You blink at him, confused. “I want to be here with you, every day and night.” A blush coats his cheeks. “I’d like to spend your vacation with you…if you wouldn’t mind.” 

You blink at him again, stunned to silence. You have to be dreaming. You just have to be. There is no way this fine-ass man that you just met and gave up your pussy to is really talking about willingly spending the rest of vacation with you. He could have anyone he wants with that face, voice, and body, but yet here he is, laying in your bed, completely pussy-whipped for you and enthralled by your body.

Suddenly, for the first time tonight, you think to yourself, ‘Maybe I am that pretty. Maybe I am that sexy bitch he sees. Maybe I am beautiful.” 

“Is that okay?” Sero timidly asks, becoming nervous. Instead of verbally answering, you lean forward and press a long, passionate kiss to his lips that draws a purr of approval out of him. You pull away, staring up into his eyes. “Sero, you’re acting like you didn’t just give me the best two orgasms of my life,” you giggle. “Why wouldn’t I want that?” 

The biggest, brightest grin stretches across Sero’s lips at your answer and he leans in to bring you into another open-mouthed kiss that has you craving more. “You know what this calls for, right?” he murmurs, a smirk playing on his lips. Heat pools inside of your core as your mind goes to other places. ‘Please say more sex.’

“A smoke,” he answers, giving you a wink. Though that isn’t the answer you were hoping for, you also know that you have plenty of time to persuade him for another round tonight. He gets out of bed to get his jeans and retrieves his baggie of blunts from out of his back pocket.

Then he swiftly gets back into bed with you and prepares a blunt for you to share. He does the test smoke first and you watch, aroused and entranced, as the smoke billows from between his pink lips. He then passes it to you and laces an arm around your shoulder, watching you lazily as you puff on the blunt. The silence that surrounds you is serene and comfortable as you pass the blunt back and forth between one another. 

When you pass the blunt back to Sero after your turn, you flush with embarrassment as naughty thoughts run through your head. “You think we can try something?” you timidly ask. Sero raises a brow. “I’ve…never shotgun with anyone before,” you softly confess, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. 

Sero lets out a laugh that you weren’t expecting. “And you wanna do it with me?” he asks, his smile teasing and playful, making you flush even more. “I think I’m honored and turned on.” He presses a chaste kiss to your lips before passing you the blunt. “Here, you inhale first.”

You do as he says and inhale the smoke, letting it fill your lungs. He slowly leans in with his lips parted as if to kiss you, silently coaxing you to blow the smoke into his mouth in one slow, steady rhythm. You feel even more relaxed now–not just because the weed is working on you, but because you realize that Sero is a man who doesn’t judge.

He accepts every single part of you, inside and out. The thought of leaving him when vacation is over almost pains you, but you’re not going to think about that right now. Tonight and the next fun-filled days here are all that matters. 

“Feel good?” he chuckles, admiring your hooded eyes. You slowly nod, a smile creeping onto your lips. “Now it’s your turn.” He takes the blunt and puffs on it pinched between his thumb and forefinger. “Come here,” he murmurs, and you’re helpless to resist him. You lean in, but he takes you by surprise when he firmly places his hands on your hips and flips you onto him so you’re now straddling him. 

You slowly part your quivering lips for him and nearly moan when he blows the smoke into your mouth in an indirect kiss. It is just as addictive and as sexy as a direct one, but nothing beats Sero’s lips on yours. You lean in and devour his mouth, swirling your tongue around with his. He tastes like weed, mint, and rum. You find yourself nearly shoving your tongue down his throat which he groans at, his hands grabbing your ass and giving you a smack that has your pussy crying. 

When you pull away, a sheen line of saliva connects to your bottom lips. “Round two then?” he asks, staring up at you with hooded eyes.

Before you can say yes or even plant your pussy on his cock that you feel hardening beneath you, you hear the hotel door unlock. Your heart leaps as you immediately jump off of Sero and hide under the covers while he sits up, hiding you from the strangers behind the door. 

In walks Mina and Uraraka, drunk and hyped up on attraction judging by the two hot strangers trailing in behind them. One is tall, buff, and redheaded with a toothy grin and his hand in Mina’s while the other is shorter but just as fit and sexy with platinum-blonde hair and crimson eyes that you know have panties dropping. His hand is on Uraraka’s lower back, his fingers toying with the little strings keeping her dress together. 

“So this is our room,” Mina giggles, inviting the men inside. “We have three different beds, so we can–“ She stops when her eyes land on you and Sero, naked under the sheets and staring at the four like deers in headlights. Uraraka gasps, covering her mouth and going as red as a tomato. 

“Looks like your room is preoccupied right now,” the redhead chuckles, grinning at Sero. “See you finally got her, man!” The blonde rolls his eyes, his hand still on Uraraka’s backside. “It’s about fuckin’ time,” he grumbles. “He’s been eyein’ this woman down the entire night like an idiot.” 

Sero looks at Mina and Uraraka who look like they want to shoot themselves. “I see you met my friends, girls,” he chuckles. “You’ve got good taste.”

The redhead winks at him and wraps an arm around Mina's waist. “Y’know, why don’t we go back to our room? We’ve got a hot tub, a minibar, and a great view of the beach. We could give these two some much-needed privacy, too.” 

Mina quickly nods and practically pushes the three out of the room, winking at you on the way out. The door shuts behind them, leaving you two alone once more.

Sero turns to face you and slithers his hand up your thigh. “So,” he purrs, “we still on for round 2?” He could’ve asked for five rounds and you would’ve given it to them. 

The rest of the night is spent in bed, with kisses, touches, snuggling, and endless pleasure that make you want to miss your flight at the end of the week. 

THE END. 

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

don’t ask me how i put this out so fast just marvel… jk

also BENTLEY’S FIRST MOMENT™︎ WITH A GIRL

part twenty-nine

❝ SPITE ❞

SATURDAY — JULY 28 — 8:07PM

BENTLEY WENT BACK TO THE MAIN GYMNASIUM, WORKING HIS WAY BACK THROUGH THE CROWD TO ASTEN AND LAYLA.

“What was that about? You just took off,” Asten asked as soon as Bentley returned, scanning him questioningly with his green eyes. Bentley glanced at him, then at Layla, who was looking at him just as curious, then at Vera, who was still onstage, and, finally, back through the doorway where Chloe had been. Crying. Because of him.

“I saw someone I needed to talk to,” He replied, glancing back at Asten, at his sort of fixed blue hair. “But I didn’t catch them in time.”

Bentley looked back at the stage and watched Vera and her band move around on it. He felt Asten’s eyes lingering on him for a while, but eventually, he looked away, too.

Vera was onstage for probably half an hour, and the whole time Bentley was really focused on not having shiny eyes. (It was kinda hard because you can’t feel shiny eyes… so maybe he just looked mad. He’d ask Asten later.)

But finally, she and her band left the stage, and, about two minutes later, she pushed through the crowd toward them.

“That was amazing!” Layla squealed, running up and engulfing her best friend in a bone-crushing hug. 

“Thanks, L,” Vera replied, hugging her back, locking eyes with Bentley over Layla’s shoulder. She smiled softly, the same kind of way she had on stage, and he smiled back.

(Were her eyes shiny, or was it just the lights?)

“I didn’t know you were in a band,” Was what he finally said. Vera wriggled her way out of Layla’s embrace and stepped up to him with a shrug. 

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Red,” She snickered, folding her arms in front of her. “But yeah — being a famous singer is, like, my dream. Mrs. Hastings helped me find people here to make a little band. We may not have a tour bus and sold out venues, but it’s fun to play here.”

Bentley hummed. “It’s really cool.”

“Thanks… but you’d take that back if you heard the band name,” She snorted. “The boys named it. After the Apocalypse.”

“That’s not bad. What about hootie and the blowfish? That’s a bad band name,”

“Hey! Don’t sleep on hootie!” She ordered with a laugh. “They were actually pretty good.”

“I didn’t say they weren't,” He snickered. “Who’s in your band?”

Vera glanced back up at the stage. “Most of them were friends with my brother, before he went missing. He used to tutor and hang out with the younger kids here at Redwood because he didn’t like anyone his age.”

Bentley said nothing to that, but glanced up at her. She’d heard her mention her brother before, but he didn’t know he was missing. Why was she acting so… casual about it?

“It’s fine, I mean, he went missing when I was, like, eight,” She shrugged. When Bentley scrunched his face up in confusion, she cringed. “Oops, I just read your mind. Sorry. Sometimes I hear it so naturally it sounds like you’re talking to me.” She sighed. “But yeah. They say he went missing, but I saw him leave in his car when he was sixteen. So he’s probably just out there doing what he wants. I don’t blame him — my parents were trash.”

Bentley hummed, glancing back at the stage. “What’s his name?”

“Noah,”

He, again, said nothing. He couldn’t imagine one of his siblings going missing… let alone for seven years. 

Seven years. Was Noah Levante even still alive?

“Of course he’s alive!” Vera suddenly blurted, and when Bentley looked over at her, she huffed. “Sorry, I did it again. But he’s alive. The police are still looking for him.”

“Okay,” He replied simply, glancing back at the stage.

A moment of quiet came and went.

“Anyways, you asked about my band,”

Vera went on naming the members of her band and telling Bentley about them, but the whole time, he could only think about Noah.

And the fact that when police couldn’t find someone for that long, they were usually… 

Dead.

—

When they made it back to the dorm, Bentley’s social battery was more dead than week-old roadkill. It was only nine-thirty, but it felt more like two in the morning. Everyone had had a pretty mediocre time at the dance. As Bentley had expected — besides Koa, though, who spent the whole thing with Summer and was happy about it. Bentley guessed it had been fine for him… besides seeing Georgia cheating and making Chloe cry. And talking about Vera’s dead missing brother.

Okay, so maybe the majority had been kinda un-fine.

Chloe really was pretty, but it didn’t seem to actually matter when she was trying to shove it down his throat like she did. If she would’ve been nice to Layla and stuff, they might’ve even been friends. But she made him feel so… weird. Uncomfortable. Gross. Summer and Layla and Vera and even Georgia were all pretty, but none of them acted like her. Why did she act like that? Like she had to prove to everyone that she was pretty?

Despite wanting to sleep desperately, he laid in his bed and thought about her. About why she felt the need to tell everyone how attractive she was. And then, going through all the potential answers he came up with (none of which ended up being good), he managed to make himself feel like a bucket of garbage for being mean to her.

But she was pretty mean, too, even if it wasn’t to him. She was mean to his friends. She was a jerk.

So why couldn’t he stop feeling so bad about what he’d said? It was even true — her dress was really too short. But…

It was nearing ten o’clock, and thirty minutes of laying there with his eyes closed, when he heard Asten climb off the top bunk and leave their bedroom. Then, a few minutes later, a few voices came and went, and the dorm door closed.

That’s about when Summer’s voice echoed in his head: The afterparty starts at ten at Mason’s house — fifteen plus. Don’t be late.

Asten was going again?

Did he not remember… last time he…

What?

Bentley promptly rose from his bed and glanced around their dark room, flipping the lamp in the corner on. He checked the top bunk and desks for Asten’s phone, but it was gone, and when he went out into the living area, it was empty. Rockie and Valor’s bedroom door was wide open to the world — empty, too.

Asten was going back? And he wasn’t going to tell him?

Bentley, with a huff, plopped on the couch and whipped his phone out of his pocket, tapping on Asten’s name — so much for not keeping secrets, right? No, he backspaced that. Where are you? Would it be petty of him to copy the exact string of texts that Asten had sent to him when he was gone? He backspaced that, too. Did you go to the party again? Was that too accusatory? 

He emptied out the text box and just stared at it. Why would Asten go back after what happened last time? He came back to the dorm sick and crying and he was going to go do it all a second time? 

Bentley stared at Asten’s messages for a good ten minutes before he finally huffed and swiped them away.

All that talk about secrets, and Asten still only left in the quiet after he thought Bentley was asleep. At least last time he’d woken him up to lie to him.

Bentley huffed and raked his hand through his hair.

Asten was just going to up and leave the dorm in the middle of the night and keep it secret?

Fine. If Asten was allowed to do it, then Bentley was, too.

He scrolled through his contacts until he found a familiar name, tapped on it, and held his phone up to his ear.

“Oh, look, the asshole’s calling,” Chided a high-pitched falsetto, laced with something thick that made Bentley’s guilt come back ten times worse. “What do you want? To humiliate me for the twentieth time?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, a strange mixture of feelings swirling around inside of him. He was tired, but he was also kinda pissed at Asten, and he also felt like the asshole of the century.

He exhaled. “Chloe, I… need to talk to you,” He glanced at the dorm door that Asten had so readily gone through without telling him. “In person.”

He heard her hum. “Really? Alright… What building are you in?”

He glanced over at Varian’s bedroom door, like he was about to come out and catch him in the act. “Aristotle.”

“Okay,” She replied. “Meet me under the willow trees — near the fountain between Columbus and Aristotle.”

Then she hung up. 

Bentley went back into his room, traded his pajamas out for some pants and a hoodie, then went to the door of the dorm and stared at it.

If Asten wasn’t going to tell him about the party until it was convenient… then he wasn’t going to tell him about sneaking out with Chloe in the middle of the night until it was convenient, either.

—

It was kind of cool outside when he made it to the fountain. 

It was quiet — the running water and rustling of trees were the only sounds he could hear. The moon and stars were all that were providing him with light, dimly illuminating the walkways so he could see where to step. He might’ve used his phone flashlight if he weren’t petrified of being caught by campus security. (Which Redwood claimed to have but… Bentley and his roommates snuck off and around campus, like, constantly with no issues? Had he ever even seen a security guard there?)

“Look who decided to show up. I half thought you were just trying to stand me up and make me feel like an idiot,” Came Chloe’s voice. He followed it to the darkness ahead of the fountain, where he could see the subtle silhouette of two willow trees and a small blob sitting under them, a little ways from the sidewalk.

With a sigh (he didn’t let himself think very much about what he was doing — it was just to apologize and get back at Asten.), he made his way in that direction, stepping off the sidewalk and into the grass, toward the trees. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he recognized that the blob sitting on the ground was her — she was out of her dress now, wearing what looked like a huge sweater and leggings, with some fuzzy boot-slipper-things that looked like the ones Summer had worn in the nurse’s office. Her hair was pulled up into a curly ponytail. She was looking at him, sitting on the grass with her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms tight around them.

With a sharp inhale, Bentley went and sat himself beside her on the ground.

For a while, they were quiet, with only the fountain and gentle breeze to distract them. Bentley just kind of watched her for a minute — she didn’t really look at him, she just laid her chin on her knees and watched the fountain in the distance.

Bentley sighed, pulling his legs up criss-cross. “I’m really sorry I made you cry. I’m not usually so mean, I don’t… know why I said that. You looked pretty.”

He saw Chloe glance over at him in the dark, and it was his turn to look at the fountain instead of at her. “Really?” She asked. Then she cleared her throat and looked away. “It’s okay. I know I’ve been weirding you out. What you said… it isn’t actually why I was crying.”

He looked over at her in the dark, her features becoming slowly more discernible as his eyes continued to adjust. “Oh?”

Chloe shrugged, and one of the shoulders of her sweater fell off only for her to tug it back up anxiously. “I mean, it didn’t exactly help, but… right after Vera started playing, my mom called me.”

She breathed in and out, laying her head back on her knees. “I’m not allowed to go home for Christmas, because… of you.”

Bentley furrowed his brow, glancing back over at her. “What?”

Chloe glanced back at him, her brown eyes flicking back and forth between his before she smiled sadly. “My mom went to Redwood when she was young — seduced every guy in her path, married into a family of millionaires, divorced him and got all his money. My two older sisters are doing the same — one just got married and the other just got divorced,” She explained softly, looking away again. “My mom wanted me to do the same thing. Y’know, so I don’t have to work n’stuff. She never found anyone for me, but then she just about died when she heard Bruce Wayne’s kid was coming to Redwood this year. So she told me I had to…”

Chloe glanced up at him, her brown eyes bouncing across his face again. “Seduce you. So I can marry you. Take your name. Be a Wayne. Get rich.”

Bentley exhaled lightly. “Oh. That’s… kinda…”

“Crazy? Screwed up? Psychotic? I know. We’re freaking thirteen and she…” Chloe sighed, shaking her head. “I’m sorry I freaked you out. Most teenage boys just fall on their face in the presence of a girl like that, they always have… but then you didn’t, and I didn’t know what to do, so I just… kept doing it, because… that’s what I’ve always been told to do. Even now, it’s… weird. To just talk to you.”

Bentley said nothing. A mom forcing her daughter to act like that… was kind of… he wasn’t sure.

“My moms all about, like, schedules and timing, and she wanted you around my finger by the dance. And you weren’t, so I got punished,”

Bentley breathed in heavily, hoping the reality of the strange and slightly concerning situation would change on his exhale. It didn't. “I’m… sorry.”

Chloe waved her hand at him. “It’s fine. I mean, if I was just normal you might’ve been friends with me… it wasn’t your fault.”

Bentley looked down at his own lap. “That really sucks, though. About Christmas. You just have to… stay on campus?”

“Yep,” She replied, popping the ‘p’, looking out at the fountain. “All by myself while my whole family just… gets together and forgets about me.”

Bentley frowned when he heard her sniffle lightly, and she turned away from him.

Oh, God. Now a girl was crying. What in the world was he supposed to do with that? 

“I’m sorry,” She sniffled. “You didn’t care about any of that. What did you want to talk about?”

“I… just came to apologize for being mean,” Bentley replied. “I feel like crap about it.”

“Everyone in high school feels like crap about something all the time,” She snickered emptily, but Bentley was pretty sure she just did it to mask a sniff. “Being a teenager sucks; like I can’t do anything right.”

He nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it does.”

Another long silence ensued where the only thing Bentley could hear was Chloe crying. He glanced around awkwardly — at the fountain, the grass, the trees above them. (What would he do if it was one of his roommates?)

Eventually, he reached over and rested a hand on her back, moving his thumb back and forth gently. 

He immediately regretted it when she quickly reached back and grabbed his wrist without as much as turning her head, probably to push it off or get onto him for touching her.

Or… not?

Actually, she… laced her fingers between his, pulled his hand close, and held it.

Bentley was glad it was dark, because he was sure his face turned the color of a tomato. He’d never… and… with a girl? Was this even allowed?

He wasn’t exactly sure what to do, but his arm was at a weird angle, so he just scooted closer to her and… let her. He wasn’t going to be the jerk that was mean to her and then ripped his hand out of hers while she was obviously in distress and needed comfort, no matter how weird it was. Holding her hand wasn’t bad, was it? He was pretty sure it wasn’t or Layla wouldn’t have grabbed his earlier.

It was weird, and he was pretty sure his hand was clammy because he was kinda freaking out. Did she actually think he was… hot… or was that just something she’d said to appease her mother? Was it all fake, or was there a chance that she… because he… didn’t…

For a while, she just cried, and Bentley felt like the biggest bag of garbage despite her saying it wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t good at situations like that — he never had been, he never would be. It was all technically his fault, right? That she got in trouble?

(Jeez, he was just screwing things up left and right, wasn’t he?)

Silently, he wiggled his hand out of hers, which earned him a confused, teary look that made him feel ten times worse. Then, without saying a thing, he extended his arm out to the side like Bruce often did.

Chloe just looked at him for a moment. Then, like he’d told her she was the ugliest girl in the world or something, she started crying even harder and pushed herself into his side, wrapping her arms around his torso and hiding her face in his hoodie to sob there. And he just sort of hugged her back. (It worked the same way with girls that it did with other guys, right?)

And that’s how they stayed for a long time.

(And he kinda forgot he was there just to spite Asten.)

--

tag list that never works lmao

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy