#anyways continuing my sad search of options for my thinning hair

[raspberrybluejeans]

i wish it was normal and common for men to have bangs so i could wear wigs easier

[writingfortheheart]

Counting to 30: Marcianna 2

Marcianna stood in front of the bathroom mirror, a pair of pins held in her mouth as she attempted to tie her hair up into a bun. "I think I..." she grabbed one of the pins and threaded it carefully through her hair. It never got any easier for her, even though she had done it a million times or more. Competition hair styles were so much worse than a simple bun, but at least she had help with those.

She slipped the second pin into her hair to secure it in place, then stopped to admire herself in the mirror. Plain black leotard, white tights, a lime green wrap draped over her shoulders. She looked the part, could she be the part? She gently slapped her cheeks to get a bit of color in them. Waste of makeup if she's not on stage, that's what every coach told her, just slap a bit of rouge into them.

A few springy steps into the hallway, Marcianna finally felt good. She slipped her polyester booties on over top of the leather ballet slippers she was already wearing. She almost wanted to lie down in her new bed, she felt cozy. There would be time for that later. Right now she had an appointment with the doctor before her first class. She grabbed her keycard and stuffed it into her bootie, folded up her requisition form, and headed out the door.

There were at least four other girls before Marcianna. None younger than 18, all sitting in the hallway outside Dr. Kirby's office, all dressed to go to their next class. Marcianna plopped herself down beside a thin, pale girl. She had sad eyes, or maybe it was just how thin she was, her eyes were sunken. She looked to be out of breath, and she was shaking a blue inhaler, almost out of habit it seemed like. After a good shake she raised the inhaler to her lips and took a puff.

A name got called and one of the girls stood up and went into the office. Marcianna looked over at the pale girl. "Are you doing okay?". The pale girl smiled. "Yeah, just a minor asthma attack. No big deal. I was coming here for my daily albuterol anyway, go figure".

"A ballerina with asthma. I guess it happens no matter who you are..." Marcianna wanted to laugh at the idea, but she had used an inhaler for a small part of her life. "They taste like crap, right?"

The pale girl started to chuckle. "Yeah, it depends on how fast you inhale".

"How serious is it?"

"Not too bad. I've only been hospitalized twice. Dr. Kirby keeps me in line now".

Another name is called, and the second girl gets up and goes into the office as the first girl leaves. "How long have you been at this academy?", Marcianna asked. The girl sat back and searched her thoughts. "3 years, I'm on a 5 year program. I have the option to do another three years after that, or I can join a ballet company, or I can just teach."

"Here?"

"Maybe, or I could start a dance studio of my own".

"That sounds like it would be lovely", Marcianna had dreams of teaching, as well, but not right away. She wanted to join one of the major dance companies, perform one of the big shows. "I have my sights set high..." she kind of muttered to herself.

The pale girl chuckled again, this one turning into a cough, then a wheeze as she got her breath back. "We all do. That's why we're here", she shook the inhaler again, put it between her lips, and took another puff.

The second girl exited the office door and Dr. Kirby poked his head out. "Trina?" he said. "That's me", said the pale girl. "Marcianna, you come in as well", said Dr. Kirby, "I won't be long with Trina here".

Marcianna stood up and followed Trina inside.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[oikawasass]

I’m in the mood for some really sad angst so take this.

final goodbyes.

‣ pairing : bakugo x fem reader.

‣ oneshot.

‣ synopsis : after a messy and unexpected fight during a training mission, katsuki finds himself forced to say one last goodbye.

‣ wordcount : 2.3k+

‣ warnings : pure angst, swearing, character death, minor gore.

It was supposed to be an easy mission on that cold winter day, one that was simply for training purposes so the students would be able to begin learning what to do in tough situations from experience, rather than a lecture. A quick sweep of a few thugs in the area assigned to the pair and approved by Aizawa himself. 

The two were confident in the mission given to them, knowing that with their combined strengths It would be a breeze, taking them a few minutes tops. Neither Y/n nor Bakugo had expected things to take such a turn the way they did. The simple thugs they were sent to deal with had brought much more of a punch than either of them had expected. A simple battle with a couple of wannabe villain lowlifes, ( in Katsuki’s words, ) had turned into a 2 vs 16, one of those sixteen people being an extremely dangerous and wanted villain in the area who was called “Pressure.” Despite the rather incredible amount of power the teens had combined, the odds weren’t in their favour from the start.

They were outnumbered, and the sheer strength of not only one of the most wanted criminals in the city, but all of his goons backing him up, it was too much for Bakugo and his girlfriend to handle alone as much as they both hated to admit. The two heroes in training held their ground as best as they could, hoping to buy themselves enough time to call for help, or some sort of backup. Even Katsuki knew that their chances of making it out of there on their own weren’t very high at all. 

It was when Pressure had set off an ear ringing, blinding explosion that things really took a turn for the worst. Y/n and Bakugo had been violently thrown away from each other due to the amount force the blast had administered. The last thing they saw before their vision went white, was the couple’s red and scarred hands desperately reaching out for each other. But they were too late. The villains had fleed before the explosion went off, leaving the couple to presumably die. 

Bakugo’s eyes slowly blinked open, a light fog of dust and rubble from the debris of the explosion clouding his vision. His body tried so desperately to pull him back into the sweet lull of sleep as the pain of his injuries and aching body slowly spread throughout his limbs and joints, but the blonde refused to lose consciousness another time. His injuries were nothing severe or fatal, so there was no excuse for him to stay down any longer. How was he supposed to become number one if he allowed a simple blast to knock him down, after all?

With a sharp inhale and a loud groan, Katsuki pushed himself up off the shredded concrete and into a sitting position, allowing himself to come to his senses a bit more before he forced himself to his feet. The boy leaned back on one of his palms, catching his breath for a moment before a single thought overtook his mind, sending him into a panic.

“Y/n.”


He shot up to his feet, not caring to try and balance himself before frantically running to all the large piles of rubble that littered the snow-covered ground around him. He was throwing metal scraps, large rocks, tree branches, anything and everything in his way while he searched for her.

“Y/N!! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!” Bakugo shouted, in hopes of hearing some kind of response from her in the distance. His heartbeat only grew quicker, hearing the fast pulsating ring through his ears as his panic grew. His determination and will to stay calm in situations like these were long out the window by now. All he cared about was finding his girlfriend.

“Y/N!!” Another heart-wrenching scream of her name left Bakugo’s dry throat. She had to be here somewhere, it's not like she just went and vanished into thin air. 


Bakugo rose his forearm to his forehead, shielding his eyes from the blinding light the setting sun was reflecting off the snow in hopes he would be able to see more clearly. That was when he spotted a shadowed human figure lying dead centre in all the rubble surrounding them, there she was.

He bolted over to the frail-looking girl as quick as his legs would carry him, crashing down onto his knees beside her. She looked absolutely horrible, Bakugo felt himself cringe at the sight of her blood-covered face. She had large scratches covering each of her limbs, as well as a small bump that seemed to be poking out of the inside of her chest, showing she had definitely broken a few ribs. And to top everything off, there was a large metal rod piercing through the lower right of her abdomen, and it was in deep.

“Dumbass, you look like shit.” Bakugo said to her, supporting her head with one hand while using his other to mess around with the small intercom jammed in his ear, attempting to get some kind of reception so he would be able to call for help.

Y/n slowly lifted her gaze to look up at him, a pained chuckle falling from her bloodied lips. “J-just. . cause I-I can't move d-doesn’t mean I w. . won't kick y-your ass f-for that.” She choked out through her raw throat. Bakugo tsked quietly and shook his head, amazed at how she was able to crack a joke despite being so wounded.


“Like you could ever kick my ass anyway, shitty girl. Now stop talking, save your breath.” Bakugo continued to mess with his earpiece, finally hearing some static and the voice of his teacher on the other side.


“Ground zero reporting in, (hero name) severely injured. We need help.” His tone was panicked while his words were rushed out of his mouth. The blonde was willing to waste no time in having help arrive, not with his girlfriend's current state of suffering and deformation. 


“Yeah- I'm at location 23AZ, just hurry up and fucking find me, we don't have time to sit here waiting.” Once Aizawa disconnected, he returned his full attention back to the girl who was practically withering away beneath him.


Taking a strong grip on the sleeve of his costume, he tore off the fabric, ripping it into something similar of a cloth to push against her stomach wound, a desperate attempt to stop the crimson blood spilling out of it. A small cry of pain escaped Y/n’s throat at the pressure to the gash, and Katsuki felt himself flinch at the sound. It pained his ears to hear such an anguished sound come from the h/c haired girl he called his, but her bleeding out was absolutely not an option, he wouldn’t allow it. Not now, not ever. It appears the amount of stress Bakugo was under was evident on his face, his furrowed brows and bottom lip caught between his teeth not able to slip past the observant gaze of Y/n.

“W-worried. . .isnt a g-good look o-n you. . .” She smiled sadly, weakly reaching up an unstable and jittery hand to softly cup his right cheek, using her thumb to try and pull the edge of his mouth into a small smile. Y/n knew her time was running short, and she wanted to see him smile in her final moments, not upset. Though she knew her reaction would be the same, if not worse if their roles were switched, so she understood his concerns.


“What the hell else am I supposed to do, idiot? You’re-You-re bleeding out in front of me goddammit.” Bakugo’s words caught in his throat, a small crack in his voice accompanying the evergrowing agony and worry he felt in the pit of his stomach.

“I-its ok-okay, Katsu. . .It hardly. . .e-even hurts anymore.” She was slipping away quickly, her dazed and tired state of mind disabled her from feeling as much pain as she was actually in. It wasn’t good, she would lose consciousness soon, and that couldn’t happen. Bakugo could see her eyelids struggling to stay open, fluttering open and shut every so often as she tried to stay awake.


Bakugo felt his heart sting in pure fear. Katsuki Bakugo never got scared. He was always confident in his ways and knew that losing would never be an option for him. But right now, he was completely and utterly terrified. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t. “Hey, keep your eyes on me, okay? You-You’ve gotta stay awake princess.” That was a pet name she always loved so much. He felt himself leaning into her touch against his ash-covered cheek. The frigid, bitter winter air and lack of blood flowing through her system caused her to be cold to the touch, her normally warm, comforting hands were practically frozen.

“I kn-know. . .but. . .s-so. .tired. . .” Y/n’s lids fell halfway shut, failing to flutter back open like they had been before.

“No. No, you need to keep your f-fucking eyes open, you hear me? Don’t go to sleep. Just-Just a little longer okay?” Bakugo was surprised at his own stuttering and cracks in his voice, but he was even more surprised to feel a drop of blood trickle down his chin. When he raised his hand to wipe it away, he saw no colour on the skin of his hand. It was a clear, shiny liquid.


Bakugo was crying.

Y/n weakly moved her thumb to wipe away another drop that fell from his tear duct. “d-don’t. . please don't cr-cry. . “ her voice was nothing above a whisper now, the little bit of strength she had left to speak leaving her body. “I-I lo. . love you, ‘kay?” she felt a tear roll down her own cheek. “I love y-you so m. . uch.” She was being forced to say goodbye to someone she knew was her first and only love. Her heart was breaking during the exchange. Katsuki and her had planned to spend so many more years together, make so many more sweet and beautiful memories with each other, cross so many more milestones and hurdles life would throw at them, all while they were one. 

Now the harsh reality was, they would never get to experience those years, memories, nor milestones together.

This was their final goodbye.

“I love you more, stop talking like that.” Katsuki’s jaw was clenched tightly shut, his words slipping out of his mouth through gritted teeth. “You’re not gonna fucking die here, goddammit! You can’t fucking leave me behind!” 


Katsuki’s choice of words was important. Y/n was the only one besides Kirishima he allowed to get close to him, it was true. But Y/n was the one who Bakugo was truly able to open up to, without fear of seeming weak or being judged. She was the only one he allowed to really see his true feelings and emotions every moment of every day, even at his weakest points. She was helping him to grow into the great hero he strived to become, she couldn’t leave him. 

“I-I need you, you idiot! How am I supposed to be satisfied with being number one if you aren’t there being a close number two?! You’re supposed to do this with me!” Bakugo was shouting now, trying to get through to her weakening body as he felt her slowly fade away in his arms.


“I-I I know. . you can do-do it. . without me. . .” her eyes fell closed a final time, the hand she held up against his cheek slowly sliding down his skin as her body went limp. Katsuki quickly removed his hand from her abdomen to hold her it up and keep it from falling. No. She couldn’t die here, not like this, not when she deserved to live such an amazing and fulfilled life as a pro hero, not when he had never taken every moment he got to express just how much he did care about her, not when he couldn’t apologize for things like all the fights he’s caused in the past. 

All the lighthearted bickering they shared, all the secret sleepovers they had in Bakugo’s dorm, Y/n hiding from Aizawa in Katsuki’s closet when he had shown up unexpectedly, the sweet words of encouragement she would speak to him ever so softly when he was feeling low, he wasn’t ready for that to end. Katsuki would never be ready for that to end.


“Y/n. . .” Katsuki’s strained voice choked out, waiting for a response. He didn’t receive one.


“Y/n. Answer me.” He spoke more stern this time with a shake to her body, hoping this was some sick joke and a serious tone of voice would force her into an answer.


It didn’t work.

Katsuki’s body fell on top of her, head resting atop her chest as he felt like he was about to be sick to his stomach. There was a sharp, yet empty feeling in his gut, it felt like someone had just stabbed him.

No more calls of her name left his lips, no more shaking her body while trying to wake her up, it all stopped. Now he was left alone, shattered into what he felt was a million pieces. She was gone. And here he was, laying on top of the near mangled body of his first love, still holding her cold and limp hand to his cheek while he felt something build up and sting deep in his throat.

As his hearing went fuzzy, and all he could hear was his own racing heartbeat in his ears, Katsuki screamed.

Katsuki screamed out of the sheer ache and torment his body felt as she lay lifeless in his arms.

[bnhablessings]

Shorty

Lol, so I made myself really sad and had to write some self-indulgent fluff. For background information I am 4’11 (149.86 cm) (I’m shorter than Tsuyu lord) Anyway, I recently came to a realization that the hot baddie Dabi is apparently taller than (with his platform boots on) Aizawa who is 6’0 (182.88 cm) and ya girl is shooketh. Like he can crush me with a pinkie or something. I would die happy.

Anyway, I am used to being called Shorty in a teasing way. What I am not used to is one of the definitions. Lmao, I found out that Shorty is a term that guys (or girls, or just taller people than me lol) use as a term of endearment for people they find attractive. Now ya girl is beyond shooketh. All this time I was being an angry smol bean oops

Anyway, this goes out to all my fellow struggling shorties! :’) <3

Dabi x Short!Female!Reader

Warnings: Suggestive (these villains are nasty in a good way and I have the hots for them) (Profanity but it’s literally the villains' area so-)

Probably grammar mistakes (I wrote this at like 2 in the morning when the clock decided to go back an hour before I finished it just now)

Words: 2,013

Your patience is running real thin. You don’t know how much longer you can stand this. Ignoring it is no longer an option. Ever since joining the League of Villains you have been targeted by Dabi and now it’s become a problem.

You would think you would get used to the constant teasing as you have been your entire life but now it’s just annoying. Mostly because this devilishly handsome tall as fuck male keeps relentlessly taunting you for your height. It’s annoying because you find him so goddamn attractive.

From his burnt skin to the staples on his stupidly cute face, and oh lord, that smirk that can put you six feet under when it’s directed at you. Oops, your mind went too active for a second.

“Hey Shorty, I asked you a question,” Dabi states as he rests his elbow on your head.

You raise an eyebrow and he dares to repeat the question, “How’s the weather down there?”

Snap. You can hear snapping and you fully believe it’s your sanity breaking. Your teeth grind down on each other and you try to come for a comeback in your angry haze.

“What was that? I can’t hear you from down here.”

Fuck. You just played yourself.

Your cheeks feel hot from embarrassment as you hear his amused chuckle. He simply tousles your hair and you let out a groan. Thankfully, a chirpy fellow shorty walks by.

“Himiko! Baby, tell him off for me!” You plead.

From the use of her first name and the fact that she finds you adorable, you find yourself in her arms as she glares playfully at Dabi. He’s already glaring at her for taking his toy away from him but that’s all okay with you.

“Be nice to (Name)! She’s my gentle baby and I will stab you!” She threatens with a happy gleam in her eyes.

“Yeah! Wait, gentle? What do you mean? I am ferocious,” You pout.

She just laughs her maniac laugh and Dabi rolls his eyes. This war will continue another day it seems.

~*~

“Who the heck put my chips all the way up there?!” You screech.

Shigaraki merely glances at you before resuming his game on his portable console. Kurogiri is nowhere in sight and Twice is talking with Toga. Dabi looks to be staring intently at his alcoholic beverage on the barstool farthest away from Shigaraki.

You groan. You are a fool to ask when your savior Kurogiri isn’t here. With full-on determination, you go on your tippy-toes to reach for the snack in the cabinet. Just as your fingertips graze the plastic holding your snack, another hand comes up and grabs it, pulling it more out of your reach.

You squeak and fall back onto the balls of your feet, your back clashing into Dabi’s chest. He whispers in your ear, “Need a hand, Shorty?”

You’re just in slight shock from the close contact with the attractive male. Nothing new, but definitely more annoying in your eyes. You turn to glare at him only to see his eyes drop to the front of your chest.

Oh hell no.

You ruthlessly stomp on his foot. He drops your snack and you grab it before sitting right next to your boss. All while glaring at your burnt boy, you open the bag and offer some to Shigaraki who accepts it with two fingers.

Again this war looks like it’ll go on for another day.

~*~

“Himiko, did you take my clothes from the bathroom?” You ask as you enter her room in a hurry and a blush.

She looks you up and down a few times before bursting out with laughter. She won’t stop laughing and your face couldn’t get hotter from embarrassment. After all, you just finished your shower and with your clothes gone had to hurry to her room in only a towel (thankfully with your undergarments underneath that).

“Oh, this?” A new voice states.

Never mind, it can. You turn to glare at the male, physically craning your head to look up. God, this is so embarrassing. He’s holding the only clean clothing you had brought to the bar. Of course you could go and rummage through your bag for your dirty clothing that’s slathered in dirt but you aren’t that villainy. You have standards.

“Here ya go. You can wear this. Your current clothing seems to have disappeared,” He says with that- Oh that smirk, as your clothing suddenly turns into a crisp from his flames.

Welp… he tosses a shirt at you that was in his opposite hand.

“Hey Toga, lend her some shorts will ya?”

She can only nod through her laughter. He leaves and you hurry to change ready to go make him catch these hands. As soon as you are changed you hurry to the bar area ready to make a scene.

Shigaraki glances up from his console and watches your angry stature go and actually try (in vain) to push Dabi off a bar stool. Of course, he doesn’t budge. Instead, his eyes rake over you and instead of a smirk a brilliant smile forms on his face as he rests his chin on his hand.

He doesn’t say a damn word. He pulls out his phone and the sound of a click goes off confusing you.

“Did… Did you just take a photo of me?” You ask unsure what the heck just happened and why.

He nods his head. Your eye twitches at the silence you receive. You quickly ask, “Why?”

“My shirt is like a dress on you. It’s cute.”

Wow. Okay, your heart just died since for once he didn’t say anything perverse.

“It looks like you’re wearing nothing else.”

Never mind. Why does life have to prove you wrong? Since his face is closer down to you, you, of course, try to hit him. He dodges with ease. Damn him.

~*~

“It’s not fair, Shigaraki. Why does the world have to be so cruel to me?” You question.

It’s just you, him, and Kurogiri in the bar now.

He clicks his tongue out of annoyance and asks, “By world do you mean Dabi?”

“I wasn’t aware your relationship progressed like that. Congratulations,” Kurogiri says confusing you.

You look at them in alarm, “What do you mean?”

“You referred to Dabi as your world, correct?” Kurogiri questions in thought.

You groan at their misinterpretation and let your face slam into the countertop of the bar. Shigaraki scoffs and Kurogiri tries to console you. Your face is hot but now it’s because you do realize that your attraction to the man is noticeable to these two.

“Either way, he’s so cruel to me. He calls me Shorty, steals things from me, and puts things out of my reach. He even uses me as an armrest! How do you take down a giant?” You suddenly ask as you look at these two rather tall people with interest.

Shigaraki grumbles, “He’s flirting with you, dumbass.”

“What do you mean?” You ask puzzled as you look up at your boss.

He doesn’t spare you a glance as he taps a button repeatedly on his handheld console. He does give you an explanation, “His teasing is his stupid way of flirting with you. Have you really not realized it?”

You stare at him dumbfounded. Feeling your intense stupidity aimed at him, he closes his handheld and looks at you with those ruby red eyes. He scoffs upon seeing that stupid confused look on your face (though he won’t admit you are easily his favorite member of LOV as you are the least annoying and actually listen to him).

“Think about it. It’s like an Otome or an eroge game. He’s trying to unlock your route in a stupid way.”

Okay, that did not help. He sucks at giving advice like this and thankfully Kurogiri is here. He is quick to translate what Shigaraki means.

“Do you see him doing this to Toga who is similar in height to you?” He questions softly as he puts a glass away.

You shake your head no and he continues, “He only does this to you because you pique his interests.”

“Like when he took your photo the other day. He thinks you’re hot so he really wanted to use it to jack off to-“

Kurogiri is quick to interrupt, “He finds you adorable and wishes to pursue a relationship romantically with you. If he wasn’t interested in you he would treat you like Toga.”

“And if you are wrong?” You ask feeling the slight disappointment build up if that were the case.

Shigaraki smirks as he says, “Let’s play a small game. If he snaps you’ll know. I’ve been meaning to fuck with him for a while.”

You go with it for having literally nothing to lose.

~*~

As soon as Dabi walks into the bar, his eyes begin to search for you. When he spots you, almost instantly, does the same angry feeling he gets when you are close with another male (mostly with Shigaraki) immediately rises in his chest.

You are sitting awfully close to him. Too close for comfort.

It looks like he’s trying to show you how to play his stupid game and Dabi doesn’t like that. At all. You haven’t once looked his way and he knows you heard the damn door open. He goes to sit beside Toga and Spinner who keep their eyes and ears opened since they are aware of the so-called ‘plan’.

Twice is entertaining himself with the lone television and Kurogiri is on alert in case things go wrong.

Though it looks like Dabi’s resting on the couch now, he keeps his half-lidded eyes glued to your form. The twinge of jealousy and anger grows when he hears your angelic laugh as you ask the creep a question.

Another laugh is heard and he clicks his tongue. It’s surprisingly very hard for him to hold back like this and not lash out at his crusty boss. In truth, he’s never felt anything like this for anyone and to him, you are just the perfect little doll that he actually adores.

He tries to move his thoughts away from you and Shigaraki but finds it difficult to not have his eyes placed on you. This turns out to be a good call to him since the next move Shigaraki makes is in slow motion to him as a fucking shit-eating grin is discreetly sent his way.

His arm is about to go around you. The pinky extended perfectly doesn’t go past him. This fucker is ready to put his hand on you. That is all it takes for him to see pure red and everyone in the room who was watching patiently is just in shock at how fast he stood up and sped over to the both of you. You are in pulled flushed against him, with one of his arms wrapped tightly around your mid-section and the other extended out towards Shigaraki presenting a blue hot flame to the male.

“Don’t fucking touch my girl with your creepy-ass disgusting hands,” Dabi growls out in warning his eyes showing that he is not kidding.

Shigaraki decides to keep toying with him seeing as you are in shock.

“Your girl? I don’t recall you making it official with Shorty.”

Dabi sees red again. That’s his nickname for you and no one else is allowed to use it. The arm originally out to Shigaraki hovers around you as his hand catches your neck and forces your head up. His lips are upon yours in a hungry way.

He is most certainly not holding back in shoving his tongue down your throat. The only thing you can process is how his upper and lower lip, despite the contrast in texture, feel heavenly upon yours. When he pulls away you don’t miss the amusement in his half-lidded gaze.

“You’re my damn Shorty so don’t forget it,” Dabi says with a small smile as he lazily gives your boss the finger.

If you liked this feel free to check out my other works! (Masterlist)

[pffbts]

quiet night with taehyung :( if requests are open.

GENRE. fluff; angst.

CHARACTERS. kim taehyung x reader | no supporting character

W.C. 2.3K

AUTHOR`S NOTE.  

taehyung looking at you as if you`re the only thing in his eyes, that`s a good feeling, isn`t it? happy reading, bub and thank you so much for requesting!

[10:11 PM] [the sound of the futon while someone moves a little closer to someone]

―days like this comes often during the fall time. the patchy farewell of summer against your skin and the skies accompanying that with the gloomiest days ever. your college days go by while you remain drowning under assignments. the only good thing is that at least you`re finishing them up on time while others remain to be as lazy as ever.

you reach the floor of your little apartment pulling the strap of your bag tighter. after the death of your grandfather three years ago, your grandma decided to sell the house and go to some old age home while giving you some money to buy yourself an apartment. you remembered her saying that it would feel not only empty but too burdensome for her to stay in the house where you grew up and your grandfather stayed by his orphaned grandchild when needed. she said she won`t be able to have a sane mind after waking up in that empty house every morning. you had laid a hand over her shoulder complying by her words. after all, you understand what she might be feeling at that moment.

so for the last three years, you`ve been visiting your grandmother at her old age home during the weekends and during the weekdays, you come back home after a fruitful day in college. it was really boring if anyone would care to observe in your daily life. but you wondered if it had been so if some things never left from your side out of nowhere.

out of habit, you reach inside the front of your bag to open the part where you chunk your keys in. taking it out, you walk over the mat in front of your door only to reach the doorknob and finding it unlocked. a chill runs down your spine as you stay fixated in your place. your eyes remain frozen over your hand that remain clutching onto the doorknob. suddenly, as your outside became completely silent, you could hear the loud thumping of your heart against your chest and it was becoming painful all at once.

you tried breathing for at least ten seconds, you tried breathing through your mouth to intake a much more amount of air than usual but your heart remained as same as ever.

you knew this was a do or die situation but you also thought who could`ve come to your place without any motive. you don`t have an enemy, you are just wrapped up within yourself. you`ve never involved yourself in any matter and you don`t even have a boyfriend, to begin with, who would care to surprise you out of nowhere.

squeezing your eyes shut, you push your door inside.

it was empty.

the minimal living area was as empty as you left behind that morning but something felt different but it wasn`t a bad different. it was like something you`ve felt before but you can`t just let your mind catch on it. you tried looking through the nooks and corners of your living area―behind the small couch, the DIY kitchen place. you tried finding any traces that someone might have left behind. you widened your eyes looking at the lampshade, you search the drawers, the utensils, the wall hanging but you absolutely nothing.

it was not until your eyes moved towards your bedroom door that you discovered that there`s a light coming from underneath the door, which was as you could see was just loosely closed. knowing by the colour of the light you understood it`s the dull lamp beside your bedside. but who? you wondered.

when you tiptoed towards your door, you managed to take a paper cutter in your hand, you know, just for precautions. you realized that it`s now or never. pushing the door at once, you pull up the cutter in front of you only to see your best friend who had previously vanished three years ago, was lying there with the same book you had once given to him for reading but never got it returned.

it isn`t always like that, you continued to convince yourself, that it`s okay for once in a while to give someone a chance to read you like an open book.

your eyes flicker to the boy in thin-rimmed specs reading the book you had once bought from the bookstore in front of the convenience store. the light that was emitted from the dull lamp would`ve pained your eyes if you were in his place but he was perfectly calm, his eyes moving along with the lines. his red snapback hat was lying upside down on the floor and your attention diverted to his slumped body against the futon.

“taehyung?” your mouth as dry as the desert, your emotions building up the frequency and your eyes remained as fixated as an archer on his face.

taehyung remained really calm watching his best friend holding a paper cutter in one hand and a trembling finger pointing at his direction. his mouth formed a straight line and he smiled, squeezing his eyes for a second only to open them up and wink at you.

“i thought this would be a good way to surprise you.” he got up really slowly, put aside the book and took off his glasses while continuing his sudden monologue, “i thought your interests might have changed over these past three years, so i couldn`t decide on any gift. but if your interests are still the same, i`ll definitely buy you the gift you`ve always wanted.”

“that book.” you said out of nowhere. “isn`t that the book i gave you?”

“aaahhh this one,” taehyung picks up the same book that he had put down seconds ago, “it has been the only thing that`s been with me all this while. i had given up on almost all things other than this.”

“but―” you started only to be cut off.

“but i had to return this. i had a feeling that we will meet someday and that i would`ve to let go of this someday too.”

“this is so sudden. i don`t know how to think right now.”

“you don`t have to, ______. i don`t know what came upon me. my manager was driving me back from the shooting spot―”

“shooting spot?”

“oh yes. i had a hunch you would never know this.” this time taehyung stands up completely and brings both of his hands in front of you but instead of cupping your face like he always used to do, he took hold of your hands, now void of any paper cutter (you`ve placed it on the cupboard when taehyung was talking about the book.). “i`m a model,  love. well,” perking one his brows, he scoffs a little before continuing, “i didn`t initially want to do this but it`s easy money and you know how much of a sucker i`m at studies. but i was scouted on the streets. so you can`t throw any tantrum, okay?”

taehyung pulls you towards himself and moves both of you towards the futon he was previously lying on. “so what was i saying before that?” he asks you, while putting a spare strand of your hair behind your ear. he still had that face while looking at you as if you`re his only darling in the world and he could do anything to tend you all day.

“your manager was―”

“ah, yes!” taehyung`s eyes glowed for a split second, “so,” he envelopes one of your hand in-between his large ones, unconsciously warming you up, “my manager was driving me back from the shooting spot and i realized that i`ve been in this side of the city. i remembered when you were planning to look for an apartment and when your grandpa left this world, you finally shifted here. i was probably here for like one or two days, isn`t it?”

taehyung helped you pulling off your jacket and he brushes off the wrinkles on your t-shirt before helping you lie down beside him. the futon made quite a sound when you moved beside him. your friend lets his arm become your pillow as he continued his story, “it took me exactly one hour to find this place and when i saw how you were living, i felt sad. i was angry too,” he moved his face a little to see if you were still looking at him or not. he realized that he was right―you were still looking at him as always.

“you were angry? why?”

“because if i was here, i would`ve never let you feel like this. it was not until i was in this room, lying on your futon, having your essence all around me that i realized how much i`ve missed you.”

taehyung now completely turns his face towards you, looking into your eyes so deeply that you thought he might have the power to read your mind. “i missed you a lot. i think i still miss you.”

he whispers the last sentence and his warm breath fans against your face.

“why did you leave then?”

there.

you said it. 

okay, but you had to. you didn`t really have any option. that question had been sitting at the tip of your tongue for three years and it had been eating you out since the moment you saw him back.

“i didn`t really have a choice. my sister ran away with a guy my parents didn`t approve of. my dad had been drinking on a daily basis. my mother was already dead from inside. they were always fighting. i was already old enough to leave the house anyway so i didn`t stay behind. i just didn`t want to see the picture i had painted of my happy family turn into something straight out of a horror movie. i just wanted peace. so i ran away but i had left a letter letting my mother know that she shouldn`t search for me. she must know that wherever her son is, he`s well-lived.”

your fingers find the place above his heart and you grip his maroon coloured shirt as hard as possible. it wasn`t like you didn`t want to tell something―anything―to him, but it`s just suddenly you were void inside. you realized how much of a fool you were. all these years you blamed him for being selfish and leaving you all alone but now that you realize how much he had gone through, you just hated yourself.

“but you must not hate yourself, love,” taehyung speaks up breaking your negative thoughts. your eyes snap up and you hover your face over his own with wide eyes. “i knew it. you just hated yourself because you blamed me for three years without knowing any reason.”

“taehyung…”

“you must know,” his hand which wasn`t your pillow moved up, to hold your head from behind, “i`ve always cared for you. i don`t know how you see me,” you feel his hand against the corner of your mouth and it hits you that there`s a sense of hesitation at the tip of his fingers, “but you`re still in that place inside me as always.”

when you both realized that your stomachs will not be satisfied by only each other`s presence, you opted for the option to get up from your place and start heating up the water for another ramen night. but this night didn`t feel like any other night. you smiled at the thought of sharing this another ramen night with taehyung.

as you feel a whine slipping from his mouth, you laugh at him. he clearly didn`t want you to physically leave his side, not when he has found you after all this while.

but just as you were crossing the threshold of your room`s door, a thought provokes you to stop and peek back into your room, setting your gaze on your friend still lying there, with his arms crossed behind his head.

“taehyung?”

he hums back, opening his eyes half-way for you, “what is it?”

“how did you get into my apartment?”

you witness a smile climbing onto his mouth which further turned into a smirk and when he finally closes his eyes, he replies.

“i was waiting for you to finally ask that question.”

he opens his eyes quickly to meet with your own and he snorts very lightly.

it was at that moment when you remember that it was not just the book he left with.

fin.

[saltandsilverstories]

Long Way Down - Part 3

When I opened my eyes, I was alone. My arms were empty, the space where she had been losing the remains of her presence by the second. My back tingled, her warmth fading. 

I raised my arms, inspecting them for fragments of the mirrors, only to find them unscathed. Aside from the holes, the bloodstains, and the smear of blackness on my clothes, there was no evidence that I had been in that mirror room at all. 

Beside me was the door, its deep mahogany tone glistening like it was wet in the lamplight. On my other side lay a hallway, carpeted and vacant, except for the other door all the way at the end. That one was made of metal, the kind of door that I had to push through at hospitals. Lamps along the walls burned steady, the orange glow of their flames staining the bare beige walls yellow. 

Leaning against the wall, I pushed until I was standing. My legs quavered, the feeling of being punctured by glass and needle-like teeth still fresh. My heart was not given a chance to calm itself.

Although I was alone in this corridor, the weight of watching eyes was heavy. I glanced behind me, finding the oily door, and nothing else. 

In my gut, something clenched. Something was beyond that door, and it wasn’t Vera.

I shuffled away from the door before taking large strides, nearly running, down the hall. I didn’t stop for anything.

I didn’t stop when the door clicked open behind me. I didn’t stop when the lamps began to flicker in a breeze I couldn’t feel. I didn’t stop when the scent of seawater swarmed me, making me sneeze as I ran.

Only when I saw the shadow did I freeze.

In front of my exit was a humanoid blur of darkness. Its edges were fuzzy and undefined, its form bleeding into the shadows that the lamps couldn’t keep away.

Inside my chest my heart thrashed as if I were holding it hostage. 

Going back was not an option. Every hair on my arm, every sinking sensation in my stomach told me doing so would be a mistake. I had no choice. Standing still was only delaying it.

I charged forward, straight at the shape. As I got closer, it remained blurry, and I shut my eyes.

My shoulder hit the door and I winced, my breath leaving me in a gust. I opened my eyes and there was no shadow, nothing near me but the door.

I pushed the steel bar, heard it click, but the door remained unmoving. I tried again, pushing against it with my shoulder, ramming into it as hard as I could, and it didn’t so much as wiggle.

Without thinking I turned around, leaning against the door, and I choked on saliva as I gasped.

There, at the end of the hall I’d just come from, stood the plague doctor, the red rose in his hand so vibrant it could be its own light source. 

I watched, hands pressed flat against the door behind me, as he approached. He cast no shadow, none of the lights catching his form. He was not tentative in his steps. He was controlled, purposeful. He took his time. He was in no hurry to reach me. This was his domain and I was intruding. He wanted me to remember that.

As he passed a set of lamps, they blinked out, plunging the section of hallway behind him into darkness. The next two he passed did the same, and the next, and the next, until I processed just how close he was getting.

Before I could turn around, there came a rumbling from somewhere behind him. My nose burned with the stench of seawater, and the rumbling started to sound more like a waterfall.

The plague doctor raised his arms and brought them forward in a big, sweeping motion that tore the petals from his rose. The fluttered in the afterwind of his movement just long enough for the water to come surging from behind him.

It flooded as if it were alive, as if it were tasting freedom after being locked away so long it had almost forgotten what flowing felt like. It was red like the petals it collected, pale pink sea foam emerging where its waves collided. It swallowed the plague doctor, rushing towards me.

I turned back to the door, banging on it with closed fists, with my forearms, with my entire body. I pulled and pushed on the bar, kicked the bottom of the door with my boots, and screamed the entire time as if in doing so it would somehow take pity on me and let me pass.

No such thing happened. Instead, the water came like a punch to my back, the force of its arrival knocking my head against the door. I had only a second to take a breath before I was submerged in its sickening redness.

The salt burned my eyes, but I forced them open, searching for the plague doctor. There was no sign of him, only thin streams of bubbles from the sea foam dissolving back into the water. There was no light anyway to see beyond the reach of my fingers.

The air I had sucked in seemed to have already run out. Pressure in my chest was building, begging to burst, beginning me to breathe.

Is this what Chris felt that day?

The thought surfaced unlike I did, continuing to sink in the water that had now engulfed the lamps. Relighting them was no longer a possibility.

A different kind of weight pressed itself to my stomach, and I looked down, a cry escaping my mouth in a flurry of bubbles.

Chris propelled himself upwards using my body as leverage until he placed his small arms around my shoulder and embraced me.

My arms were foreign, two objects that I had just enough control over to raise and place around him. 

The moment my hands made contact, the pressure in my lungs disappeared. I didn’t need to breathe anymore. If the water hadn’t been there to catch my tears, they would’ve fallen onto his fluttering, striped shirt.

“Hi daddy,” he said, his voice reverberating as if we were in a cathedral. 

“Hi buddy,” I burbled, the feeling of water entering and exiting my body unfamiliar and uncomfortable. 

“Are you sad?”

“No,” I told him, “no, I’m happy.”

“Then why are you crying?”

I laughed, hugging him more easily now that I could breathe again. “Because I’m happy to see you. I missed you.” 

“I missed you, too.” His tiny arms squeezed me, and I squeezed back.

I held him for a while, waiting to feel his heartbeat against my own. Waiting, waiting despite knowing I would never find it. If the water weren’t there, I could feel his weight in full, the presence of him in full, but instead he was hanging onto me and I to him, fighting the pull of the water.

“Why are you here, Chris?” I asked him.

“Because I wanted to see you. I have to tell you something.” His voice came from inside my head.

“What is it?” I responded, also internally.

“I’m sad, daddy.”

My heart dislodged itself from its place in my chest, crashed at my feet, and shattered to dust. “Why are you sad?”

“Because you’re sad.”

I shook my head, patting his hair. “No, buddy, I told you--”

“You think it’s your fault.”

My lips froze, parted, my hand still. 

“You think you could’ve done more.”

My breath stopped, my entire body solidifying into an unmoving object.

“But that’s not true.”

It’s not?

“It’s nobody’s fault,” he said, hugging me tight, “it was an accident.” 

The sobs I had shoved aside burst out in bursts of bubbles and foam. Chris pulled away from me, looking into my eyes. He was so pale, the whites of his eyes pure like the lilies he’d held in his hands in his casket. 

“See? It’s okay now, daddy. I didn’t go in the water without you this time.” He smiled and through my crying I felt myself laugh, unable to not mirror him. 

“You came here just to tell me that?” I asked. His grip on me was getting lighter.

He nodded. “You couldn’t do it if I didn’t.” He let go, and I reached for him.

“Couldn’t do what?” My hand passed right through his arm. 

“Let go.” 

My limbs floated around me, unmoving aside from the faint current as I watched him dissolve into the water.

“I love you, daddy, but you have to let go. It’s okay, I promise.” 

“But I can’t lose you!” Not again. Not so soon after getting you back.

“You won’t! You never have. Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting.” He was little more than an outline.

“I love you,” was all I could manage. 

“I know,” he said, and although I couldn’t see him anymore, I knew he was smiling.

He faded entirely, dissipating into the sea, leaving me floating in darkness. My eyes shut, just for a moment, and when I opened them again, I was falling. 

[miraclejune]

HERO’S SOUP: CHAPTER 17

District 9

Minho and Felix popped inside through the window. A hint of snow wafted around as Felix transformed back into human form. Minho quietly emerged from the dark corner.

Woojin helped Woong from getting some extra chairs from one of the rooms. They settled down and paid attention to the heavy conversation that was bound to happen.

"Jisung got kidnapped. Jeongin met another one of Merlin's apprentices. Changbin almost got killed. And Chan has real friends outside the mansion."

"Really? That's one of the big issues?" Chan rolled his eyes after receiving no response from Hyunjin. "I've heard about all of that except for the last part." Woong chuckled as he spoke.

"How?”

“Rumors spread faster than the plague here. And the Sofia's aren't good at keeping secrets." the vampire couldn't agree more. He heard a lot of chatter before at the clan, mostly some petty quarrels and scandals. Rare cases would be fights and disagreements within their 'businesses'. They spread petty rumors about other people but not even the slightest information from them was leaked.

"So, basically every supernatural being knows?" Woojin slumped down as he saw Woong's soft nod.

"Is it all connected though?" Jeongin asked.

"I hope so. It'll be much easier to deal with." Minho responded. He was right. If the following scenes came from different sources, it would be very difficult to handle. They didn't have the resources nor the time to do so. When it comes to manpower, they do have Jisung and Chan.

"Do you guys think they're tracking us?"

"Jeongin, you watch too many detective movies." Felix chuckled, moving to sit in between the boy's legs. "Well," Jeongin leaned forward and placed his hands on Felix's shoulders. "I do watch a lot of those films but maybe it's possible? No harm in finding out.”

"Let's hear him out." Minho suggested. He nodded at the boy signaling him to continue. "So, Jisung had been kidnapped before, right? Thankfully we all got out alive. Which is weird?"

"How is that weird?" Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows. Woojin put out a hand to calm him down, he noticed his tone was rising for a bit. "Go on." he said.

"O-okay." Taking a big breath, Jeongin calmed his racing heart.

"They let us go so easily. No backup. No follow up attacks. No nothing. It was too peaceful for my liking. A couple of weeks passed by peacefully, except for that one encounter with Ms. Yoo. Do you guys think she was somehow warning us? That something bad would happen soon."

"Kazuo has been giving us hints as well." Seungmin added.

Hyunjin rested his chin on his hand. "Ms. Yoo didn't hurt you. But she did scare the shit out of you." Jeongin nodded. To be honest, he did almost piss his pants.

"I tried to find her. But I couldn't get a grip of her. I couldn't ask around because people might question why I, an alpha wolf, is looking for one of Merlin's Descendants with no valid reason to state." Hyunjin turned to the alpha. He was also part of that search team.

"What we know for sure is that she's not our enemy nor our ally. I haven't seen her around the university ever since." Seungmin added. It somehow made sense. After not seeing her at the campus, weird things started to happen.

"We keep on encountering Kazuo though." Seungmin pointed out. Everyone in the room went still. "He's helping us." Chan replied. "We're not so sure about that." Minho retaliated. Chan didn't respond back.

"Two days ago. I received a letter from my former master." Seungmin's confession drew everyone's attention. "It was mostly monthly updates on how the academy is and some special events. But she did disclose a hidden message."

Hyunjin tilted his head. "Huh, as far as I know. No secret code nor language can't be deciphered by your former academy. Everything that comes in and out is to be sorted and searched very thoroughly." It was common knowledge for everyone.

Not only Seungmin's former witch academy but most of the facilities regarding students and workers. "That's the problem. They scrutinize every detail of it except for the very simple ones. They tend to overlook it."

He snapped his fingers and a sealed amazon box fell onto his lap. He reached out for Woojin's hand, who was beside the sofa sitting on a different chair.

On cue, the alpha's nails grew longer. "You just used our alpha as a cutter to open up the box.." Changbin shook his head in disbelief.

"Anyway, it said something about another package that was sent to me via mail." Seungmin ignored the wolf's remarks.

He stopped halfway through opening it.

"Like, normal mailing." what he meant was, normal human mailing.

"Yeah, the FedEx box is a dead giveaway." Felix commented.

"I planned on opening it the day I received it, but I forgot." the rest weren't paying attention to his words. They were excited to see what was in the package.

Seungmin pulled out a bunch of old letters, books, and smaller boxes. "Oh, these are just stuff I left there." He flipped through some of the books, handing one or two to Woong, the rest wondered why Seungmin had Woong's belongings.

"She scares me." Woong thanked him, sighing in agreement with what he said. "Seriously, she knows the exact time and place we would meet. Even when you're gonna open the package."

"You guys went to the same academy?" Jeongin asked.

"Yup!" Woong snapped his fingers, a big book appearing from thin dust. The book floats in front of everyone. It was sort of like a yearbook. Something straight out of Harry Potter. It flipped through the page where Woong's class was featured. "I was in my last year when Seungmin came in. So, we didn't see each other often." Seungmin waves his hand in the air, flipping through the pages once more until it stops at his class photo. "I hated taking these class photos," he confessed.

"Why'd you get the book?" Seungmin asked. "I also got the tablet. But I don't know where I placed it." Basically, their academy offers two options for the 'yearbook' either print or digital. Hey, it's a new age.

Woong threw the books he received at the shelf. They slowed down and squeezed neatly on a few vacant spaces. "Why didn't you just search for her there?" he pointed at the book. "Ms. Yoo is older than both of you.. so, it won't make sense."

"The book shows every class from the beginning of the academy to the last." Woong proclaimed proudly. "Damn, why wasn't I cursed as a witch." Changbin completely forgot about his words earlier. He was impressed.

Seungmin thinned his lips before answering. 

"I did."

The book closed. The cover slowly changed into a different color, as well as a year printed on the front. It opened and flipped through a couple of pages stopping abruptly on the last page. "This was Ms. Yoo's class. There were only 10 of them and I heard that all of them were expelled."

They all leaned in to see an empty sheet with only the year printed on top of it, the ink was runny. It looked creepy as hell...

"Why haven't we heard of this?" Chan looked at Seungmin and Woong exchanging glances with each other. "An expelled student is normal but a whole class was definitely sketchy. We have no idea how and why. We were just given a warning not to bring it up if necessary."

The room sat in silence.

Jeongin observed the book, shifting his gaze to the two witches. Woong snapped his fingers and the book disappeared.

As they were settling on their seats, Jeongin spoke up. "You guys are cursed."

Woojin walked across the room, kneeling in front of the boy. "How did you know?" softly caressing his cheek, he asked. "I just know." Jeongin wasn't quite sure as to why he knew. He just blurted out the first thing that came to mind and based on Woojin's actions, he knew also.

"We are." Woong gave a sad smile.

"Cursed not to talk about it." Seungmin murmured.

"But how? You guys just mentioned it." Minho tilted his head after asking. He was boggled by what was happening at that moment. "We can talk about the whole class being expelled, but not the reason why."

"So, you are cursed not to talk about it?" Felix asked again.

"No. We can say what happened but not the details."

"Why not?" Chan asked this time.

As soon as he did, they all shut their mouths. They got it. The witches were cursed. They're just repeating themselves, not really getting anything out of it. It was an endless cycle. It sent shivers down their spine.

Chan recalled Seungmin saying something about a curse he wanted to be removed as he entered the neutral zone. So this was it.

A curse that had a purpose won't be able to break in neutral zones. He glanced at Changbin who searched for every neutral zone in South Korea just to find a way to undo his curse. But it didn't.

"Let's move on." Woojin broke the silence, smiling amongst the agitated faces of his friends. He stood up and went back to his seat. "So, there was nothing special about the package? Why would your master send it through normal mail?"

"Oh, there is something there." Woong implied.

Seungmin emptied the remaining contents of the package.

"Woong, if you mind." he neatly removed the contents of the coffee table, asking the others to hold on to their cups for the meantime.

Seungmin placed the box on top of the table, holding out his hands in the air. Woong walked to the opposite side and mimicked Seungmin's actions.

After a few seconds, the curtains closed and the lights dimmed, engulfing the room in darkness. The box levitated in midair, glowing as bright as the witches' hair.

The rest of them expected some cool outcome or important information. However as they felt the climax reaching its point, the box fell, and the witches fell on their knees as well.

"This sealing is so complicated." Jeongin looked at the box as he helped Woong get on his feet. "She really sent something so cryptic even though she knows we can't remove the seal easily." Seungmin thanked Woong who supported him when he was about to fall.

"Jeongin, don't touch it." Chan was too late. The boy had already picked up the box.

He momentarily stopped to realize what he had done and proceeded to turn it over to its original position. "Chan, it's fine. It's not harmful." Woong reassured.

"So, you can't open it?" Hyunjin mumbled.

Seungmin snorted. "I didn't say we can't." Both went back to their original positions. "It'll be much easier now." Woong continued.

And so, they did. It only took a few seconds before the box was engulfed in flames; no trace of ash nor residue was left.

"District 9." the witches said in unison.

"That place?" Minho probed.

"That's where Origin is." he continued. "Rank 1?" Felix nodded softly at Jeongin answering his question.

The strongest of the 11 families. No one has a clue about them. What they are capable of, who their leader is or where they’re from. Rumor has it they attacked the lower ranked families that’s why they vanished, but no one has proven anything yet. No one even knows how many members they have, or if its just one person.

"Was." Woojin corrected Minho. "They're gone."

"We don't know that." Hyunjin argued. "It's been a couple thousand years." Woojin replied. "They probably perished after getting rid of the other families.” he continued.

“That’s not possible. They can’t just disappear like that!”

“Hyunjin, don’t you fucking dare raise your voice at me.” Woojin's growl left the room in a terrifying silence. Every natural body movement was on hold.

Jeongin could hear his pulse banging in his ears and there was sweat dripping down his back. Even Woong was frozen in fear. He had seen Woojin in a bad mood before. He was not frightened nor was he afraid. What he felt was beyond such mere nouns. And he knew everyone else in the room except Hyunjin was feeling it.

Hyunjin hastily stood up, balling his fists as he stared down on Woojin. Out of all the members, he was the only one who wasn’t scared of Hyunjin. He is the beta. Second in command. And he’s not gonna let his alpha push him around just because he’s second.

“Hyunjin, stop.” Chan demanded. But the beta was not hearing anything else. He only heard the anger in his body slowly rising, wanting to be let out. He hated how Woojin was staring back at him intensely, obviously asking him to cut the crap and just quietly sit in the corner.

Seungmin felt the nauseating atmosphere, he couldn’t bear it. He noticed Hyunjin slowly inching towards Woojin, who was beside him.

He abruptly stood up, creating a temporary wall between the two. “Hyunjin, you need to calm down.”

Changbin walked behind Hyunjin, placing a soothing hand on his back. “It’s not time for us to go against each other.”

“Look, I have zero fucking idea what’s happening, why we’re all getting mad and stuff but it’s not right for us to gang up on each other. We only have each other. I don’t want to be alone again.” all eyes fell onto Felix. His baritone voice had a hint of anger and sadness in it.

Hyunjin's intense stare on the alpha faltered. His eyes fell on the floor. Changbin felt him calming down, so he pulled him into a small hug before going back to his seat.

“I’m sorry.” he murmured. Woojin stood up and kneeled in front of his beta. He lifted up Hyunjin's chin and as their eyes met, he smiled softly. “It’s okay. I know what you’re feeling. I’m sorry.” as they settled back down, the air slowly went back to its normal state.

Chan cleared his throat.

"For now, let's try to find out if they really are tracking us." The next 30 minutes consisted of Jisung refusing to go to the basement with the two witches, Hyunjin detaching himself from Jisung who was clinging to him like crazy, and Felix laughing at the scene unfolding in front of his eyes.

The three disappeared downstairs, leaving the rest in the living room. "We have to lay low for a while. It's almost midnight outside, so the mansion is guarded. However, we cannot go back home just yet." Chan suggested.

It was dangerous for them to continue with their daily lives for now. Jeongin was worried about school. He hoped that this mess would be finished soon.

“I’m leaving.”

“Ok-Huh? WAIT, CHRIS!!” Before Jeongin could process what happened, the vampire disappeared in the middle of the living room.

“Now, what!” Changbin threw his hands in the air as a sign of defeat. "He never changed! Fucking selfish prick." he exclaimed.

Felix and Minho shook their heads.

"Where's the vamp?" Hyunjin pops out from what seems to be the kitchen because of the piece of bread on his mouth. Woojin followed up from behind.

"Lemme help you with that." Felix took some contents out of Woojin's hands. After placing everything on the coffee table, he straightened up and looked around the room. He broke into a small smile. “He left, didn’t he?” Changbin nodded, rolling his eyes afterwards.

The remaining people settled back down the living room. “Is it okay for us to eat Woong's food?”

“You shouldn’t be asking that as you stuff your face with his bread.” Hyunjin coughed and almost choked to death before Minho would give him a glass of water. “Assholes.” Hyunjin muttered, water dripping down his chin.

“It’s fine. He said to help ourselves since we’re probably gonna be staying here for a while.” Woojin answered. “Anyway, let Chan be. He’s not used to fighting in groups.”

Jeongin smiled. “We can tell.”

“I just hope he reaches out for us every now and then. I’m jealous of all the action he’s getting.” Felix proclaimed.

“Chan doesn’t really fall in line with ‘Character Development’. Well, some aspects of him change but not drastically. He’s still the same old vampire we knew." Felix paused and smiled.

"But that didn’t stop us from loving him, right?” he continued.

The silence around him meant ‘yes’.

They talked lightly for quite a while. Some of them grew impatient and tried poking into the witches’ business. 

So, now Jeongin's been playing with 2 wolf cubs, 1 baby fox, and a black kitten.

‘Some of them’ included everyone in the room except him and Woojin.

“I told you guys to just wait.” Woojin giggled loudly, he sat beside Jeongin, taking the 2 wolf cubs onto his lap.

“This isn’t really any different from what you guys originally are.” That statement earned him a bite on his thumb, it was pretty deep but healed quickly. “Changbin, how dare you bite your alpha!” Woojin exclaimed in a joking manner as he tickled both of them.

“We’re done.” The basement door opened in a hurry, they looked back just in time to see a disheveled Jisung limp his way to the nearest chair.

“What the hell did they do to you?” Jeongin stood up, grasping the baby fox and kitten firmly on his arms so they wouldn't fall.

Honestly, he would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so dire. “Dude, you looked like you’ve been molested!” Woojin was like 'fuck it' and laughed after what he said. Jisung would’ve glared at him but he was too disoriented.

“These evil fucking sorcerers have defiled me. MY DIGNITY. MY PURENESS. MY LIFE WILL NEVER BE THE SAME.”

Talk about being over dramatic.

“Oh, shut up. We thought it was just a hoot and a half.” Woong shook Seungmin's hand, making Jisung more and more annoyed.

“We’ll file a lawsuit later, Jisung. For now, did you find any traces?” Jeongin escorted Jisung to the room upstairs to rest, when he got back. They continued.

“We found a few traces of silver inside his body.” Woojin smiled sadly. “Yeah, that’s been there for a long time.”

Seungmin realized it was a sensitive topic. “O-okay. Other than that, we couldn’t find anything. He’s clean.” He tried disregarding his words earlier. Woojin fell into thought.

“Where’s Chan by the way?”

“He left.” Jeongin said.

“Fucking selfish prick.” The boy almost laughed at Seungmin's familiar insult.

“Well, we’ll figure it out once you guys get enough rest. I prepared all your rooms, sorry but you guys have to room with each other for a while.” Woojin bowed his head in apology. “No! Sorry for coming in unannounced. Thank you for helping us, Woong.” Woojin replied.

Woong ushered them upstairs, clearly forgetting about the little ones.

Changbin pleaded, their little feet couldn’t climb up the steep stairs.

“Relax! You’ll transform back in 50 years.”

Hyunjin cried for a while so they were forced to transform them back.

"Crybaby." Seungmin muttered as he closed the door behind him before Hyunjin could claw his guts out.

[for-bucks-sake]

Underwater.

Pairing: Stucky x Reader Word Count: 4.5K. I know, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. Warnings: Angst, Endgame Spoilers, general sadness? Characters death. That’s it probably. Summary: For the past five years, Y/n has been holding her breath.  A/N: Idk man, I want to thank everyone who read Missing Is a Recurring Theme. I was overwhelmed by the comments so just,,thank you! Currently working on part two (get ready for fluff!) But for now, this was requested by the lovely @fandomnerdxox. Hope you love angst, because that’s what this fic is all about. Hope you like it! 

Her lungs were filled with dust. She could tell. Unable to expend them enough to take a breath, ribcage staying painfully small. “Bucky?” She called, maybe yelled. Nothing was clear anymore. Not even the air.

The fighting stopped all at once, there was a shift in the atmosphere, like the universe itself sensed something has gone terribly wrong. She stopped running when a Wakandan soldier reached for her, hurt, looking distressed as he tried to come closer, his back bent.

She swallowed, the urged to find her partners almost overpowering her instincts to help the man. She took his hand nevertheless, holding it tight in hers and pulling him up. She glanced to the sides, forever searching with her eyes familiar figures, when she felt the man slipping from her touch; “Are you oka-“ y/n looked back just in time to witness him disintegrating in front of her eyes, warm human flash crumbling in her grip, nothing left but dirt.  

She gasped, nearly falling back. Her eyes widened in panic as she finally started to notice more and more people dissolving into thin air.

Y/n ran. “Steve!” Knowing it’s too late. But she ran. “Bucky!” The field was too big to cover on foot. But she ran.

There was a long leg clothed in navy blue uniforms, scattering into invisible particles. Wind spreading them all over two silver, Vibrenium made shields, That’s when she stopped.

“No.” She choked, vision clouded, not even registering the chaos she walked right into.

A single, large, sniper rifle abandoned on the grass, inches away from where the leg was no longer. “No.”

It can’t be. It can’t. Not them, it can’t be them.

She collapsed to the ground, the weight of her injuries finally hitting her fully;

“I can’t breathe.” She panted, holding her sore throat desperately, starving for oxygen,“I can’t breathe.”

-

Loneliness is a funny thing. You could be lonely for years, decades, even. And never once notice it. You could live content with what you have, not even wondering about what you might miss. That’s when life tricks you. It lures you into tasting it, like a pinch of salt you bake inside a cake, bringing the sweetness out. Life places it on your tongue, melting it away into your bloodstream, changing you forever so you will never be the same. And then, they wait.

Wait in the shadows, until they think you’re too used to it, until they decide you don’t deserve it anymore. So they take it. Snatch it from between your fingers with brutal force, leaving you alone, bare, unworthy.

Funny may not be the accurate word, no. But all the other words she thought of to describe her situation were too tragic. So she sticks with funny.

-

Nat asked her to move back to compound today.

Y/n said no, of course. Not even remotely considering this as an option, furious at Natasha that she did. It got heated quickly, on her part, mostly.

She was alone all her life. Both of them were before the universe was vicious enough to give a meager taste to the starved.  She thought maybe Nat, could understand.

Y/n didn’t want to move in. Waking up to the sound of Natasha trying to save a world that already lost. Listening to her secretly wiping about what Clint has become. She didn’t want to do that. Y/n had enough shit to deal with on her own.

She finally reached her front door, fumbling with her keys, groaning as the jingling continued because she couldn’t find the right one, hands still shaking from anger.

“Did you know how quickly smell fades away?” Nat’s hair was longer, red color vibrant than ever. It suited her.

“I’m sorry?” Confusion replaced Natasha’s fading smile,

“Smell.” Y/n stressed, “of people, I mean. When they’re not here to renew it, it just disappears. Dissolves into the air, like it was never there.” She refused to sit, not once stopping to chip on her nails.

“Are you okay? Y/n, I’m starting to w-“

“Especially with clothes.” She frowned, burring her hands inside the pocket of her oversized leather jacket, changing her mind right after, bringing right hand fingers to her lips instead,  “you know, I tried keeping their clothes in the closet, I thought maybe, it will help preserve the smell. But it was all bullshit. Turns out I just missed about a year of their scents. When I opened it, it was barely there.”

Natasha remained silent, too alarmed to speak. Y/n accepted it as an invitation to continue her ramble.

“I was so angry, you won’t believe.” She laughed bitterly, “At myself of course, like, I could’ve googled it or something, but I didn’t. So I don’t have much to go with now.” Y/n continued, either going through an aneurism, a fit, or finally losing her mind all together, doing so hysterically right in front of Nat.

Natasha left her chair, walking towards y/n as carefully as she would approach a wounded predator.

“Listen to me, it’s going to be fine.” She cringed at her own words, feeling terrible at making people feel better. Steve was great at it, he always knew what to say and when to say it. Surly if he returned to give an advice, it would’ve calmed down his grieving girlfriend.

Natasha was relieved to be her only audience, if anyone else was seeing her state she would get a fast pass to a psych ward. Nat knew she wasn’t crazy, just…hurting.

“Yeah. yeah,” y/n dismissed her, swinging her hand, “anyway, that’s my way of telling you I can’t move here.” She finally sat down, leaving Natasha facing the wall. She turned around.

“Why not?” She said carefully, crossing her arms, “the thought of you all alone is- .”

“I don’t mind being alone.” Y/n cut sharply the kind words directed to her,

“do you?”

She finally managed to find the right one, shoving the key to its lock and twisting. She pushed the door with her shoulder, dropping her small bag to the floor.

Five years had gone and she still wasn’t used to the unnatural silence.

The blinds were shut, the air didn’t move, and for a second she could believe that time actually stopped.

Y/n inhaled deeply, standing still in the middle of the room, not daring to make a sound - maybe time did stop. She jumped when a car honked outside. A loud, ear cutting sound that tore her ruthlessly from her bubble.

She blinked, as if waking up from a deep slumber, realizing her precious reality was nothing but a dream.

That’s how she felt everyday, if she was being honest. Sometimes their touch felt more like a delusion than a memory. Sometimes, metal hand and starred chest turning into dust were just a horrifying nightmare. Sometimes, two purple, ugly fingers snap themselves together was just a fucked up hallucination. Sometimes, the existence of two, perfect men, reciprocating the strong, burning love she felt was just too hard to believe.

Nothing was real anymore.

Y/n walked into the bedroom, grabbing the white bottle of aspirin from her bedside table and swallowing down two. It was an exhausting day.

Her head met the sagging pillow with a soft thud, unlike most days, sleep came quickly, and with a flutter of her eyelashes, she was already gone.

He was so handsome with that beard. It was really impacting her ability to focus.

“Hi, ms. Astronaut!” Steve called her, golden fragments of light dancing in his eyes, “your pretty dreamy looks won’t help you on the battlefield.”

“Really? So you’re just that good at punching people?” She smirked, adjusting the straps of her sports bra, “no staring at your enemies with those baby blues until they beg for mercy?”

He caught her off guard, using her shoulder to hoist himself up and tackle her ankles from the back. She hit the soft padding embarrassingly easily, Steve not even giving her the time to react.

He offered a strong hand, swinging her off the ground like she weighs nothing when she took it. He smiled at her, eyes a brilliant cerulean- “ready to beg for mercy yet?”

Y/n huffed and hit his shoulder, “not a chance.” She paused, tightening her ponytail, returning to starting position, “now explain to me how to block it.”

Suddenly, her scenario dusted away in a disgusting black ash, swirling around her body, ruthlessly throwing her into a field.

She started running. She didn’t know where she ran, but it felt like she’s been there before; sounds and smells familiar, recognizing the path to god-knows-where as her legs kept carrying her.

A more clear image started to form, the sky bore lightning but it was warm outside, faceless monsters with sharp teeth and slick skin tried to attack her but only went through. Y/n was starting to realize where she was; it was their last fight against Thanos, and she got another chance.

Running was a part of her by now. Unable to stop or slow down, one mission in mind. Looking for a reflection of the sun on metal, or just the eyes of two bearded men before they disappear for good.

She heard them calling for her, loud and clear, two voices she hasn’t encountered for a long time, yet will never be able to forget.

“Bucky?” She screamed, this time she has to find them, she has to, “Steve? Where are you? Steve, Bucky!”

The tears woke her up, cheeks stained and breaths that were no longer under her control, hasty gasps that choke her up instead of supplying oxygen.

She was so close this time.

Her body shook violently, trembling with fear and drenched in cold sweat. The headache she had when she fell asleep was worse now, an echoing sting compressing her brain every time her heart beat.

It wasn’t just her failed attempt to say goodbye. She dreamed this every other night, and every single time she finds herself inside an unknown territory, not knowing what she needs to do until the very last minute, when she fails miserably, only to awaken to the voices of her loved ones, calling her to come save them.

No, it wasn’t just that. Because this time- this time she had a good dream too.

They used to spar all the time together, it was a good energy outlet and an excuse to spend more time with each other. She had a lot to learn from two super soldiers, and to her surprise, she taught them some moves too.

Y/n remembered that day, Steve and she were having an early morning while Bucky was still soundly sleeping, so they decided not to wake him, leaving an orange sticky note on his metal arm that said, gone to kick steve’s ass, be back by 9:00. love you.

Steve drove them to the compound, crisp breeze hitting her freshly opened eyes as she clutched his firm chest tighter, leaning her body weight on his.

He asked if she was okay, loud noise of the engine and the wind free whistles in her ears, maybe he thought he drove too fast.

She nodded, smiling in reassurance when they bypassed traffic, Steve maniacally dodging cars and driving in between the small spaces vehicles leave. He was crazy. But he managed to bring them to the compound in under twenty minutes, which was a new record.

They entered the gym, Steve’s hand still on her lower back as they stopped walking, taking off their jackets, staying only in training clothes.

“I really like that jacket.” She said, feeling the worn leather of the large brown cloth under her fingertips.

“I know.” He smiled and bit his lips, taking her hand and guiding her to the large ring.

They took their positions, adjusting their stances, “Last night I remembered some old fight moves I didn’t use in a long time.” Steve scratched his beard then stretched his shoulders, “maybe we could start with them?”

She remembers nodding, not registering exactly what he said because she got distracted, thinking about his beard and his eyes and everything else.

It was a good day. Peaceful day. A day she would give anything to experience just once more.

Her eyes were tired, begging for an actual rest as she got up, still in her clothes from yesterday, blindly walking to the kitchen and hitting some buttons on the coffee machine- it was too old now. Needed to be replaced.

Nothing has really changed, since half of the world disappeared, since Steve and Bucky disappeared. She set next to the kitchen table, filling only one of four chairs, like every other day, holding the same bitter, black coffee in the same chipped mug.

Even killing Thanos didn’t mean anything, and she wasn’t even there. Too struck with grief to see the last light behind this monster’s eyes before they darkened forever.

Y/n felt like the world ceased to move, like maybe, in a way, they were caught in a lop, and time did stop.

-

“I’m sorry.” She went to visit Natasha again. Being sad was no excuse to treat her only friend spitefully. She leaned against the lintel, trying to find support, or hide behind it, she didn’t know.

Natasha’s eyes were swollen, eyes still threatening to tear up again any moment.

“It’s okay.” She took a bite from her sandwich, “Clint did it again.”

Y/n thought about yesterday, her own thoughts were so unfair to Nat, who did nothing but help her the past five years, how could she be so selfish, thinking she was the only one in suffering.

“I’m sorry, Nat. I really am.” Y/n approached her, taking the chair that was opposite of her, “did you try looking for him? Clint is a good guy. You know he is. He’s someone who lost everything at once. Something like that gotta mess up with your mind.”

“You’re still here.” Nat said quietly, already regretting it,

Y/n bit the inside of her cheek, reclining against the back of the chair, “If there’s someone in this world that could save him - it’s yo-“

“Hey, Hello, This is Scott Lang. We met a few years ago, at the airport, in Germany, I got really big-“

Both women were startled, slowly getting up from their chairs, looking at the small monitor.

“Is this an old message?” Y/n asked, her eyes burning, she inhaled sharply. Scott Lang is supposed to be missing, he dusted with all the others. And if that really is Scott it means…

-

Scott didn’t disappear because of Thanos’ snap like the others. So it didn’t mean shit. And hope crushed her chest once again, hating herself for letting it invade her thoughts repeatedly, not learning her lesson.

His incoherent ramble about a time machine sure didn’t help. Natasha insisted they would go visit Tony anyway, saying that if he recognized a real chance he would never hesitate to help-

But when she sees Tony with his daughter, her world nearly crumbles for the second time in two days. The odds he would cooperate were now down to zero.

Tony saw them approaching. She watched him letting the kid down, following her with her gaze as she ran all the way to the front door, swallowed by the wooden house.

“I’m happy for you Tony,” y/n heard herself saying, “I really am. But you can help so many people, you can help bring so many people back, and you won’t even…”

“No. I won’t even.” There was a finality in his voice, one that clearly states they are done.

“Steve? You remember Steve? He used to be your friend. Or have you already forgotten him. How easy.” She pierced the air with an ice cold tone , anger consuming her. “You live your happy life, and you got everything. Tony. Everything. What do I got? What do I have?” She heaved, breathless, and he looked like he was going to say something, when his daughter came jumping on his lap, securing her little arms around him in a firm hug, “mom told me to come save you.”

Y/n finally got a good look of the girl. She was sweet looking, a visible brain behind her eyes; And she didn’t know Tony Stark very well, but y/n could tell the kid shared a deep resembles to him. Who wouldn’t do anything for their child? Even if it means letting the other half of the world burn. -

She clearly didn’t know the man at all, because for some reason- Tony Stark came back.

Everything they did seemed to fail, and when Bruce couldn’t figure it out, almost making what’s left of the Avengers babysitters to baby Scott, Tony arrived to the rescue.

“He turned into a baby, didn’t he?” He snarked with a sly grin, revealing a weird looking metal bracelet and a proud attitude that said, I did it.

“Thank you.” Y/n took his hand, squeezing it hard, knowing that as of now, she owes this man her life. “Thank you so much.”

He offered a knowing smile, grief shifting his features, “I know what it’s like to lose someone.” - “See you in a minute.” She heard Nat, giddy with excitement, before all of them were pulled into a colorful vortex, a hurricane rearranging her guts, staying with her even when they landed in an unfamiliar ally in New York.

“Are we in the right place?” She asked Tony and Bruce, changing her white and red, Quantum traveling suit, into a more area fitting one with a single button.

Smashing sounds got closer by the second right after she asked, not long before they saw a much greener Hulk, destroying everything on his path.

“I’m pretty sure this answers my question. “ Y/n said to herself, amused, heart light inside her chest despite the heavy mission ahead of them.

Y/n wore a big SHIELD identification, saying she was incredibly high clearance, it’s supposed to get her what she needs quickly, no questions asked; but when she entered an elevator full of Hydra thugs, testosterone reeking the small space, she assumed there might be some questions.

“Gentlemen.” She said, too ceremonially, “I will need you to hand me the Scepters. Orders from high, I’m afraid.” She felt all of them tense around her,

“And who are you, if I may ask? I have never seen you here.” The bald man who looked less threatening than all of them asked,

Y/n held her ID high, pointing out her clearance level, “not ever seeing me here is a good sign, Mr…”

“Mr. Sitwell.”

“Very well, Mr. Sitwell. Now, if you will, the Scepter. I’m in a bit of a rush. Wouldn’t want to keep people on the higher floors waiting.” Y/n decided to do something bold, the outcome could either be a success, or one that she would have to punch her way out of. She leaned against Sitwell, bringing her mouth closer to his ear and whispered,  

“Hail Hydra.”

The man looked apprehensive at first, debating with himself for a long moment, until finally nodding to one of the other men, handing her the long suitcase reluctantly.

Y/n gladly accepted it , the elevator finally opening up as she turned her back to them, smirking in satisfaction, going towards the exit.

Her legs stopped in their tracks. She wasn’t supposed to see him. Not now, not like this.

Steve, wearing a very cheesy and outdated Captain America suit approached her, holding his earpiece, and before she could even registered what was going on, she heard him say he has eyes on Loki. Fucking Fantastic.

It wasn’t her Steve, she knew, but it was harder to accept than say, because as it seemed she is going to have to fight him, and she wasn’t ready.

In the months before the mission Natasha got her back into a very strict schedule of training, trying to beat her into shape again. It couldn’t repair years of damage and neglect, but it was better than anything. And as past Steve swung his shield to her direction, y/n held onto every bit of shape she head.

It wasn’t her Steve, her mind screamed as she dodged his punch, fighting the desire to take off his mask and kiss him.

He hasn’t met her yet, of course he won’t recognize her.  

“Hand back the Scepter, Loki.” He demanded, she was suddenly happy she couldn’t see his eyes.

Steve tried to use her shoulder to hoist himself up, but y/n hunched over, waiting for him to miss his jump, and placed two hands securely on his broad shoulders, lifting herself and using his support to flip over, forcing him down along with her, wrapping her body around his, trying to chock him long enough for him to lose consciousness.

“I can’t do that. “She panted, struggling to keep him in a tight enough grip, “and I am not Loki.”

Steve fought out of her hold, twisting his thighs around hers and kicking her kneecaps, rattling her entire body as they changed positions, now she was the one being strangled. She arced her back, hitting him in full force with it, but he didn’t budge. Not even when she jerked one ankle, jolting him right in the junk. She’ll apologize later.

Y/n couldn’t beat him in a hand to hand combat, poorly shaped and outmatched by him. Distraction was her only possible advantage, and she was running out of time, options, and air. What could baffle 2012 Steve Rogers? She thought frantically, just as the answer presented itself to her.

What would faze 2012 Steve Rogers? The same thing that would faze 2019 Steve Rogers, or any Steve Rogers for that matter.

“Bucky, is , alive.” She coughed out, and it was enough; the lock on her throat was released, giving her an opportunity to take the Scepter and run. She took it out of its case, pointing it at Steve general direction just as he gained composer again, hovering above her. She caught a glimpse of blue, cold and painful to watch without the warm undertones that appeared every time he looked at her.

“Sorry.” She squeaked as he dropped to the floor, head planted down. Only falling asleep, she hoped.

- The minute she saw Clint collapsing, an empty space to her left, she knew Natasha was not coming back.

They didn’t know exactly what happened, and it didn’t matter. Because everything else was clear. She gave her life to get that stone, to get everyone back. That only meant one thing; They could not fail.

- As time went by, y/n thought less and less about what would happen if they came back. There was no point to lead herself on, right? So she didn’t.

But now, as the possibility of them returning appeared more vivid, worry began to chew on her confidence.  Insecurity seemed the last thing she needed right now, so insignificant, superficial, in times like this, when the faith of the world was at stake. Yet, she was staring at the mirror, for the first time in five years, really looking. Examining carefully, with attention, how her body has changed. She didn’t like what she saw.

It’s not about you, she had to remind herself, it’s about them.

“Also", a very familiar voice, challenging her with the cheek in her tone; Nat. “Give those two dumbasses more credit, they will love you, no matter what.”

-

It was only them, and they were losing.

They managed the snap, and it almost cost Bruce’s life in the process. Nothing in the world seemed to scream about drastic changes so far, and then Thanos decided to pay a visit, depriving them of finding out if everything they have gone through was for nothing.

Slowly but surely, they were losing. Being wrecked by the purple alien that already destroyed once their lives as they knew and loved.

It wasn’t fair, Stark was the last one standing. She watched him from where she landed, after being brutally thrown. He could never face him by himself, he wouldn’t survive long enough. She remembered that day, it seemed like thousand years ago now; when she swore, she owed her life to that man.

No superpowers, no special suit, no weapon. Just her, and her fists. That’s all she had to offer. She owed it to too many people to not just surrender and die, leaving a world to burn behind her. She owed it to herself.

Y/n gritted her teeth and spit blood to the side, standing side by side with Iron Man, bringing two fists to the front of her body and fixing her stance.

She inhaled deeply and glanced at Stark, he nodded, letting her know he’s ready when she is.

“Y/n?” She heard her name, somehow loud, in her earpiece. Tony looked confused just as her, he heard it too, and it wasn’t him talking.

“Doll, it’s Steve. Do you copy?”

Her breath was knocked off her lungs, she searched around her for any sign of him, of Bucky, of anyone, when an orange portal was opened behind her. And then another one, and another one, and another ten.

“Holy shit.” Tony called from beside her, laughing, somehow, “holy fucking shit.”

Y/n was at a loss of words.

“Go.” He opened his helmet, motioning her to the sea of warriors behind them - he wasn’t standing alone anymore - “go!”

She shook her head, not moving an inch. “I’m staying right here.”

-

It was her dream again. Her eyes scanned the crowds, running amok between injured people, bodies. Vision too blurry and burning to see any face at all.

“Y/n!.” A deep voice called in her direction, and she nearly twisted her neck attempting to find its source.

Her eyes teared up instantly, knees threatening to buckle underneath her, a metal arm coming just in time to hold onto her, support her in place. Wiping tears was useless, she found out soon enough, giving up instantly to simply sobbing into Bucky’s shoulder.

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky.” She kept crying out, he had a long cut on the side of his torso, he shushed her gently when she tried to bring it up.

There was a subtle movement behind her, and she tensed, head shooting up, “Steve?”

“I’m right here, sweetheart.” He said softly, another pair of strong arm enfolding themselves around her, his eyes radiated warmth, bright in the middle of a dirt stained face. She took one last look before burying her body deeper between them, surrounding herself with a scent that was a mix of salt and earth and blood, so humanly them.

“You were gone and I-“ Y/n kept glancing every other second at Bucky- even though she was still in his arms, hysteria got the best of her, gradually taking over any rationale left- the fear they’ll disappear, like last time, becomes too real.

“I didn’t say goodbye and-“ She gasped for air, they caressed her, talking sweet nothings in her ears, just to calm her down.

“It’s been five years and I…I couldn’t live without you.” She said finally, physically struggling to speak, clutching onto them harder,

“We’re so sorry.” Bucky muttered, choking down on tears of his own, weaving fingers through her knotted hair, “So fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Steve reassured her one more time, kissing her temple, then her knuckles, then her lips. “we’re here now.”

[devilgoat]

The Saw is Family

((We’ll see if this stays up? Anyways so I decided to combine both parts together, so here’s the entire fic in its 18k+ word glory because I hate myself but also Love Bubba Sawyer with my entire being. Find other works under my “devilgoat writing” tag! Do you like my work? Then maybe consider following the link in my bio and buying me a Ko-Fi!))

You can find Part 2, “Blue Rare” under “the saw is family”/ “devilgoat writing” tag

Leatherface | Bubba Sawyer x Gender Neutral Reader 

Sweat. That is what hot Texas summers consisted of. Sweat, heat, and rot. Sweat on your face, dripping down your back, and soaking through your shirt. Sweat, heat, barren landscape, rotting road kill. Road-tripping across Texas in summer was unpleasant, to say the least. What made it more unpleasant was the annoying company stuffed inside this tiny little car along with you. 

Summer break had begun for your university and it was time to head home. Unfortunately, home was 8 hours away and the road there led through the most boring, barren landscape you could imagine. Dry, crumpling hills made of rocks and dust littered the scenery on either side of you. And honestly, you would have preferred to be out there in the hot sun than the sweltering, stuffy car that had become a cage for you. You had needed a ride back to your hometown, and with no money, no car, and your family too busy with work and other things to come get you; your only option was Lana. See, Lana didn’t have a car either, but she did have a boyfriend, Sam. And Sam had a car. Turns out, both you and Lana were from the same town, and if it weren’t for that little piece of trivia, you wouldn’t have been caught dead in this car with the two of them.

To say that you weren’t friends with them would be an understatement. Sam was famous around your university, but not for the best reasons. Known to lie, cheat, and steal to get ahead, he was also known for sneaking into the university’s library to fuck his current hot date of the week on the second floor. During finals. In the middle of the day. He wasn’t very likable. Sam had also apparently never grown out of his high school bully persona because he continued his harassment and bullying far into his academic career. He took pleasure in it. His current paramour just happened to be Lana. And you knew if summer break had started just a week earlier or later, you wouldn’t have had this ride to begin with. And Lana? Well, she was something else. Known to acerbic, arrogant, and also just plain unhelpful during group projects, she had once forced her former roommate to move out because she wanted the whole room to herself. She drove the other girl partly insane over the course of weeks by cutting out her hair while she was asleep and then telling her that the stress of school was killing her. So yeah, it was fair to say that she wasn’t well liked. The only reason you knew this was because you were acquaintances with the poor girl she had roomed with, and she was just too tired with dealing with it to report her suspicions to the bureaucratic student affairs board. It was definitely not the place you had preferred to be in. But Lana had a ride and you both knew that you were from the same place. And now you were here. Your sweat had soaked through the entire front of your shirt. To be honest, you weren’t particularly excited to go back home, but you had nowhere else to go. Sam was driving, Lana in the passenger seat, and you in the back, stuffed with all the luggage. It was cramped and uncomfortable, and you weren’t even through the first three hours of driving. “Ahhh shit,” Sam muttered. Oh no. “What is it?” Lana asked. “We’re almost out of gas,” He sighed and lifted one of his hands off the wheel and ran it through his hair. “I thought you said you filled it before we left?” “Yeah I did! I did...say that.” He was silent for a moment but turned to Lana, not caring about the empty road ahead. “Awww come on it’s alright. I’m sure there’s a gas station somewhere close by. There has to be!” Lana pouted in her seat. Sam reached over and grabbed her chin, while making cooing sounds. “Awww are you mad at me?” His voice was thick with patronization and it made you sick. Lana laughed and slapped his hand away. “You better hope there is or you won’t be getting any tonight.” “Hey uhh,” you interjected for the first time. “I’m still here.” “Oh right, you.” Lana laughed and gave you the gift of faux embarrassment. She turned in her seat to face you and gave you a wry smile. “Sorry, I just get carried away sometimes.” You have a polite, curt smile and turned to look out the window. You knew she enjoyed watching you squirm. It was entertainment for her too. She and Sam were perfect for one another. You felt the sneaking sense of dread settle in the depths of your stomach. Now your worries were less about surviving this trip and more about finishing it at all. Without any gas, the three of you would be screwed out in the middle of nowhere.

“You know,” Lana began, “Sam and I were going to stay at his place for the summer. His family owns this great house by the lake. But when I heard you needed some help I thought, why not? I haven’t been to town for a really long time.” You wondered if she hated her family or if her family hated her.

More dry rolling hills and nothingness. And then suddenly, like a mirage, a black dot appeared on the horizon. It wavered and sputtered in the heat, until it slowly grew and solidified on the side of the road. A hitchhiker? Yes, you were closer now and you could clearly see the hitchhiker off in the distance. You straightened up in your seat and stared him down. “Hey look at that guy!” Lana exclaimed. She pointed at the man in the distance and squinted her eyes. “He looks...weird.” A bit closer to him now and you could see what she meant. His movements were erratic, and you could barely see the manic smile across his face. He had his thumb out, asking for a ride, and it felt...wrong somehow. His shoulders were shaking with what appeared to be laughter. A chill ran down your spine as you felt the car begin to slow. “Wait!” You shouted at Sam. “You’re not actually stopping are you?” “Ahhh what’s the harm?” he responded. What’s the harm? Really? The car stopped right alongside the hitchhiker, and you were able to see clear as day how off-putting he was. He had a large red birthmark on his right cheek. It looked like blood. A camera hung around his neck along with a small pouch made out of some unknown animal. Lana rolled down her window slightly in order to hear him. He spoke quickly, as if he were in a rush or high. “Hey, man, mind if I catch a ride?” “A ride where?” Lana asked. “To my house! It’s just up the road there!” “Well why don’t you keep walking?” Lana sneered at him and Sam followed suit. The hitchhiker hesitated to answer the question. His face twisted in confusion and eventually defaulted into the same, off-putting smile. “Come on! Just give me a ride! I’ll make it worth your while!” To your absolute horror, he turned to face you in the back seat. His smiles grew wider as he noticed you for the first time. “Oh yeah,” he muttered. “I’ll make it worth your while.” You shifted in your seat and turned away from him. You could feel his eyes boring into you, prying you open and digging his hands inside. It was silent for too long as the hitchhiker waited for a response. He took in a breath to speak once more when Sam broke through the silence. “Yeah, umm...” he began. “The thing is, friend, we’re in a bit of a rush and running out of gas and we’d just like to get home.” The hitchhiker seemed to perk up at the mention of gas. His back straightened, and he tried to hide the glee on his face, and failed miserably. “Oh I uhh, I know a place! Yeah! Right up there! By my house! I can take you there if you want, just give me a ride!” Lana and Sam exchanged a knowing look, one that you had no part in. Lana turned to the hitchhiker and exaggerated her thinking process, letting out “hmm”s and “uhh”s and pressed a finger to her chin, her eyes rolled upwards in “thought”. “Hmm,” she “pondered”. “Nah! Good luck and don’t die!” Lana burst out laughing as soon as the engine revved. Sam slammed his foot against the pedal and you lurched backwards with the speed the car propelled itself away with. The tires squealed and kicked up dust. Once you regained your balance, you turned around in your seat to watch the hitchhiker fade away behind you, shrouded in dust. ——— “God, he was such a creep, wasn’t he?” Lana had a look of plain disgust and mockery as she asked this. She turned from Sam who nodded and laughed and turned you. She expected an answer. “Yeah I guess,” you said, forcing a fake smile. You agreed sure, the guy was a bit weird, but did he really deserve to be shit on like that? You tried not to dwell on it. You were long gone now, and the car was getting dangerously low on gas. Everyone was searching the shimmering horizon for some sign of civilization. You turned to your right and saw a dead armadillo on the side of the road. Your heart felt a pang of grief over the rotting carcass. It was a cruel world, you knew that, but you still felt like an innocent animal would be exempt from it. Just a few moments after seeing the poor armadillo, you spied a building between two rolling hills and a cluster of sad trees. A thin road stretched and winded towards a large sign that read “GAS” in thick, red letters. “Wait!” You shouted. “Down that road there!” Both Sam and Lana were shocked out of their concentration by the sound of your voice. Your frantic pointing gave the hidden road away and Sam jerked the steering wheel in order to make the curve in time. Both you and Lana held on as best you could, and your chest strained against your seatbelt. “Ow, fuck!” Lana yelled. She righted herself and smacked Sam on the arm. “You asshole!” Sam burst out laughing. He always worked best when he was able to get a rise out of someone. The car rocked over the unpaved, bumpy road. It took all you could not to bang your head against the ceiling. Lana was a bit less lucky. She hit her head quite hard against the window and cried out in pain. Sam ignored her. “Slow down, asshole!” She yelled. “Do you want to get gas or not, huh?” A few more hours. Just a few more hours and you would be home and you wouldn’t need to deal with this anymore. You didn’t want to be around when their relationship exploded. And it would undoubtedly explode any minute now. The car bumped and rocked up to the gas station, and came to a stop by one of the old, rusted pumps. “Last Chance Gas” was up in large red letters above the entrance to the small station. It was dirty and seemingly abandoned. Sam stepped out of the car and called out. “Hello! Anyone in there?” He quickly ducked his head in the car window. “Lana, come with me.” In response, Lana pouted and angrily shook her head, her arms crossed against her chest. Sam sighed and called out once more. You could tell he was getting exasperated. Right as he was about to call out again, undoubtedly louder this time, a man emerged from the station’s front door. You felt like if the gas station were a person, it would look exactly like him. He was older, worn out, his clothes were slightly grimy, and his hair was greasy, or at least what was left of it. You rolled down your window in order to hear what he and Sam were saying. “Hey, man, were almost out of gas here and we’ve got somewhere to be. Fill her up will ya?” Even when asking a stranger for their service, he couldn’t help but sound like an absolute douche. “Well, sorry about that, son,” the man said, “We’re all out of gas.” “You-you’re out? Of gas? You’re a gas station!” “I’m well aware of that, son, but we won’t be getting another shipment until the end of the day.” Sam groaned in response. The man brought up a placating hand. “Now, you’re allowed to wait here until then, if you like.” “No!” Sam almost shouted. He took a breath and calmed himself down. “Listen, is there another gas station around here? We need to be moving.” “Read the sign.” The man pointed up to the red letters behind him. “Alright then fuck this,” Sam said. He made his way back around to the driver’s side. “I’ll take my chances.” Before the man could get another word in, Sam was revving up the car and continued down the road ahead of you. “Wait, Sam,” Lana began, “Let’s just wait! If they say it’s gonna be in at the end of the day then let’s just stop here.” “I am not going to be sitting in this damn hot fucking car for who knows how long. We’ll just keep going. There’s GOT to be someplace ahead. It’s just a marketing tactic with that whole “last chance” bullshit.” Both you and Lana knew you wouldn’t be able to convince him otherwise. Sam got what he wanted when he wanted. And you in particular did not want to find out what happened if he didn’t. And he was probably right. There had to be a place somewhere ahead. You settled into your seat in a puddle of your own sweat. You were just thankful that the window allowed just enough of a breeze in to keep you going. You could feel the car start to sputter and slow as the needle drew closer and closer to the E on the dial. Sam’s knuckles were growing white against the wheel as his nervousness grew. You were wary of his eventual explosion, and there didn’t seem to be any salvation in sight. The sun was an unrelenting presence that was slowing siphoning away your energy, and soon enough you were in a daze. Your eyelids were growing heavy from the sun, the heat, and the road. Before you knew it, your body was asleep and finally able to let go of the tension set in your muscles. It would have been peaceful, if you were not robbed of it just moments later. “Look!” You heard. Your sleep-addled mind couldn’t process what was going on at first, but once your eyelids forced themselves open, you started to wrap your head around it. Lana was pointing towards the side of the road, trying to get Sam’s attention. The sun was in your eyes, so it took a moment to see what she was seeing. Amongst the trees and dusty hills was a very narrow road. And past the tree line and into the depths of the forest, you could see the roof of a very large house. “Maybe they’ll have some gas?” Lana hoped. She looked over at Sam and begged him with her eyes to pull over. He let out a strong and obvious sigh, but did not say a word. The wheel spun and the car turned onto the gravel road. Trees immediately flanked either side of the car and you could barely see past them, even in the sunlight. The rooftop grew larger and larger in front of all of you. It grew and grew like a menacing giant, ready to eat the three of you whole. The eye-like windows glared at you as they came into view. The poor house was incredibly run down. It seemed to slump into itself, sad of its own existence. The white paint was chipping off the exterior, which made the cracks look like veins spreading across its hide. The house was a creature, alone in the forest. What concerned you was that you didn’t know if it was alive or not. The car came to slow stop in front of it as it rolled over overgrown grass. Sam turned the engine off and stuffed the keys into his pocket. “Alright,” he said. “I’m gonna go check and see if they have any gas to spare. They must have some kind of generator or something way out here. I’ll be back.” Sam made no effort to invite you or Lana, so you made yourself comfortable. Or as comfortable as you could possibly be in the sweltering heat. Sam was halfway to the front door when Lana was suddenly spurred into motion. She climbed out of the car and ran after Sam. “Wait!” She called. “I’ll come too.” And like that you were left alone in the car.

Climbing over a small set of stairs, they stood by the door and knocked and called for several minutes. You were resigned to the house’s clear abandonment, but Sam thought he heard something. You could hear it faintly as well. He pulled the screen door open and stepped inside, with Lana glued to his side. You watched them enter the house’s maw. They disappeared into the darkness behind the screen door and you waited. You waited and waited and waited until you felt an unreasonable amount of time pass. They shouldn’t have been gone for this long. If they hadn’t found anyone, they would have come back out by now. If they had, they would have brought them out to the front with gas. Maybe it really was empty and they decided to take some “time together”. You groaned to yourself at their obnoxious behavior. Could they really not wait until they were back home to have their foray? Here you were, in the back of a suffocating hot car, waiting while these two jerks finished pounding one out. As time went on, you were a bit surprised with their stamina and the fact they had been at it for so long. Finally, enough was enough. They had been gone for so long that you didn’t care what you walked in on, as long you got kick them out and get you all going again. You threw the door open and slammed it behind you, hoping it would signal to them that you were on your way. With your feet in the grass, you realized how unkempt it really was. You saw small bugs jump off of the tips of grass and run off further into the vegetation. There was no way this house was inhabited. There was no sign out here that anyone had lived here for years. You climbed up the short, creaky steps onto the porch. You entered a bit of shade and felt an immediate relief. You allowed yourself to rest in the partial darkness for a few moments before you braced yourself. The screen door was in front of you, beckoning to you. You pushed it open and entered an even hotter, note sweltering environment. The house was tight and closed in. Dust had collected on a lot of the surfaces inside. It was dark, with only the natural light that flowed through the cracks in the closed windows allowed you to see inside. “Lana? Sam?” Your voice spread into each nook and cranny of the house. “Hey, you guys, come on!” No response. The floorboards creaked underneath you as you walked down the small hallway in front of you. The stairs before you called to you, but it would be better to check the first floor before anything else. A large steel door was at the end of the tight hallway. It seemed out of place in this home. It looked like it would be more at home in a slaughterhouse than here. You tried to open it, but it only jingled against its lock. You left it alone for now and turned left towards another part of the house. You called out once more to your traveling companions, but still there was no answer. You figured you would be hearing some type of moaning by now, but the house was passive in unsettled quiet. And then you heard it. A small squeal in a back room that was unmistakable for Lana. You followed the sound as best you could. You turned a corner and your feet stepped on something strange. It was soft and fluffy, but a hard piece lay in the middle. Your foot rolled over the object as it clattered away. You looked down. You were stepping on feathers. Piles and piles of loose feathers and…bone. The object that rolled away was a thin, bare bone. And there were more of them. Everywhere. Bones on top of more bones scattered and dumped without a care. Your body froze in place. You felt yourself begin to sweat, but the droplets came out cold and quick down your back. Your muscles tensed, but your eyes desired to explore the room around you. You didn’t want to look, oh no please don’t look, but they moved around anyways. They moved up from the floor of feathers and bones, up to the table full of rusty tools and even more bones, to the pieces of furniture that decelerated the edges and sides of the rooms made of...bones. Human...bones. Human skulls, femurs, and ribs were tied with chicken wire against the frames of shoddily crafted chairs and benches. There was no denying their human origin. The noise. The noise came again from the room to your right. The same small squeal. You knew both Lana and Sam were twisted, but they couldn’t be this twisted, could they? Could they really be here, amongst these rotting horrors and… You shook the thought out and followed the noise. You had to pull them out of there quickly. “Hey guys, quit it, let’s go!” You turned the corner and stopped dead in your tracks. Lana was there. And Sam too. Or at least parts of him. What was left of his body rested on an old, bloodstained table. His limbs were in a bucket in the corner. And his head, well...you couldn’t find it. But it was definitely him. The body had the same clothes, and despite missing its extremities, it still held an energy of callousness and arrogance. A large, bloody chainsaw sat next to his remains. And Lana. She was still alive. At least you thought. She was strung up, facing Sam. You ran to her, jumping over bits of bone and flesh, but when you touched her she screamed. You saw how she was being held up. A long, rusted hook had pierced her back, and every movement on her caused her to cry out in excruciating pain. Your heart began to race. What could you do? What happened? Who did this? It was all happening too fast. You couldn’t think straight. It was all wrong. Every movement you tried to get her off the hook only made her claw out in pain. And then you heard a sound behind you. It sounded like a large hunk of metal sliding up against itself. The screeching metal clawed itself open like a demon out of hell. The door. The door was opening and it was behind you and that meant whatever was opening it was behind you too. The hairs on the back of your neck would have stood on end if not for the layers of sweat pressing them down. Critical thinking was gone now, what was left was simply survival instinct. Your eyes darted from side to side, searching for a space to hide. There were layers of tanned hide — animal? Human? — draped over several chairs next to a table, with piles of animal parts on the seat. You crawled underneath the table and pulled the chairs in front of you to hide yourself as best you could. You were breathing heavily from panic, and after you realized this, you slapped a hand to cover your mouth. You pressed your eyes closed for a moment. You were a coward. A goddamn coward. Sure, Lana wasn’t a friend, but you could hear her desperate cries as she pleaded for you to save her. But you couldn’t. You just couldn’t. Your muscles had seized from fear, and when you tried to move them, they began to shake uncontrollably. Thump, thump, thump. Footsteps came closer. You could hear them clear as day behind Lana’s cries. And behind the steps you could hear a sound like a squealing pig. Whoever had done this was in the room. Your entire body tensed when you saw movement pass in front of the chairs. Dark pant legs approached Lana and the hooks. You could see the end of her legs frantically kicking. You tried not to imagine what that was doing to the hook in her back. She cried out for help. She called for you by name. Part of you hoped she hadn’t given you away, and you immediately felt bad for hoping that. The legs moved away from her and then to the large, bloodstained table in the middle of the room. You heard the sick thunk of Sam’s torso hitting the floor. Whoever was doing this was planning on doing the same to Lana that they had done to Sam. You wanted to stop it, but you couldn’t. Cold blood and sweat flowed through your body, and no matter how much you wanted you could not move yourself. You couldn’t stop it. You listened to the sound of Lana being placed on the table, and then you listened to the disgusting slam of a heavy object against what you figured was her head. Her strained cries turned into a gurgle. The gurgle turned into a choke. The choke turned into silence. Your eyes were wild and bulged out of their sockets. They stared into the coarse hairs of one of the hides in front of you. You heard silence in the room, and you could not see the pair of legs form before. You didn’t know how you would get home or when, but you knew you had to get out of here now now now. You moved your body in this cramped space as slowly as you could. A crunch. A bone snapped beneath you. The snap reverberated through your entire body and then the whole house. Or at least it felt like it. But you were safe. Nothing moved except for you. Then another snap. An even louder snap this time and you knew you had done it. The pair of legs appeared from around the corner. You held still as it came closer to you. You wished it away. You wished so hard that the sting of tears pricked the corners of your eyes. You were going to fucking die. The pair of legs and the figure it was attached to grabbed the chairs in front of you in a sudden fury. The creaky wood was whipped away from your shelter and you let out a scream you could not control. You pushed yourself backwards, squishing bones and feathers underneath you. Thick, pudgy hands gripped the lip of the table in front of you and lifted. The table wasn’t bare. It was stacked and piled with animal parts and skins and that must have weighed it down by a lot. Which meant that the being currently lifting it clear off the floor and tossing it aside had an enormous amount of strength. The pig squealing began again, and you realized it was emanating from the figure in front of you. You were blind with fear, and you couldn’t see much of them before you started to flee. Your legs tensed underneath you as they tried to propel you forward, but you weren’t fast enough. Thick, hairy arms wrapped around your body and lifted you up clear off the ground. The person holding you was big in every since of the word. You panicked and began to squirm in the vice you were in. You kicked at their chubby stomach and strong legs. You pushed against them and you were able to hook your feet against them and push away. Their grip weakened and you fell out of their arms. You landed hard on the floor, and the tough bones that littered it banged against your muscles as you hit them. You twisted yourself around and crawled away as best you could, but the door was nowhere near. You backed yourself into a literal corner and felt yourself press against the wall behind you. The figure was standing above you now. And they were bigger than you had thought. Their body heaved with the previous exertion and each step made a heavy thump as they moved their weight around. You grabbed a bone by your side and held it up. It was old and brittle, useless in a fight but it was all you had. Your need to fight hadn’t left just yet. You held it up between you and the large beast.   “Stay back!” You screamed. Your heart was blasting against your rib cage. You were able to see the full frame of the man in front of you. You stared up towards his face. A face that seemed…wrong, and loose somehow. The apron over his shirt and tie was stained with what was obviously blood and gore. The man took a few steps closer once more. You jabbed out with the bone and he flinched slightly. He was right above you, his body heaving and bursting with strength. The man kneeled in front of you. You jabbed out again, but the man squealed and flung out a big, meaty hand. He smacked the bone out of your hands and it flew clear across the room. Completely defenseless, you pressed yourself as hard as you could into the wall, hoping in some way that you could meld into it and disappear. But you were not that fortunate. You were face to face with the man. He lowered himself to your eye level, and kept coming closer and closer until he was mere inches away. His body and shape seemed to swallow the room around him until all you could see was him and his face. And that’s when it hit you. In another split second, your eyes took in the thick twine that pieced the mask together. The mask made of something slightly translucent. It was poorly stitched together, with flaps covering the ears underneath completely. Greasy black hair erupted from the top of the mask in tangled curls. It took longer to realize that it didn’t belong to the man himself. You could see into his eyes. Holes had been cut away from the mask’s eyes and mouth, allowing you to see the true skin underneath. He noticed you holding your breath, and stopped moving. You looked into his dark eyes. The sun that broke through into the room reflected off of them, and unlocked the honeyed brown kept in their depths. Crooked teeth exposed themselves from behind his chapped lips. The light pierced through the translucent skin he had wrapped around his own. Skin around his own he was wearing skin wearing someone else’s skin on his face. You wanted to scream. You tried to scream as hard as you could, but nothing came out. A tear slipped from the corner of your eye. You could feel your body shutting down. Its natural instinct to flee and fight was beginning to wear off and all that was left was limp flesh. And he kept staring at you. The man wearing a mask of leathery skin tilted his head from side to side. His tongue slipped out and ran over his teeth. He let out a small, pig-like squeal. The strangeness of him knocked some voice into you. “I’m so sorry,” you began, your voice a hoarse whisper. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see anything. Please just let me go. I shouldn’t have come here. Please!” The man tilted his head once more. Your chances were slim, but you would do anything to get out of here. Pride meant nothing to you. “I’m so so sorry. I shouldn’t have been in here. You don’t have to hurt me. Please don’t hurt me.” One of his hands rose before your eyes. You turned your face away in fear of being struck. A hand so large and thick would do terrible damage to you, and your braced yourself from the pain. But instead of a slap or the feeling of the intimidatingly thick fingers wrapped around your throat, you felt a calloused hand brush against your cheek. It was rough, and almost hesitant to touch you. You let out a pained sound as you felt him touch you. To your surprise, he immediately pulled away. Your eyes flashed opened and you heard him let out a small whimper. You saw him immediately grow self conscious of his movements. He held his hands in front of him and shuffled in place. His head ducked slightly and that’s when you realized he was just as scared of you as you were of him. You were an intruder, a stranger who had burst into his home along with Lana and Sam. They had broken in, made loud sounds, and he felt as if his shelter was being invaded. He was defending himself. He was defending himself against you. You had hidden yourself in his house and had even threatened him. Yeah, he had killed two of your “friends”, but maybe in his mind, this was a natural reaction. He kept his head down and started his pig-like squealing once more. “Hey, hey, hey,” oh god you couldn’t believe you were actually trying to comfort him. “It’s okay! It’s okay.” He watched you from the corner of his eye; his head still to the side and tucked low to show his submission. He turned his head to look away from you and stood up. You pulled your feet close to your chest and pressed yourself farther into the wall. The man walked over to the corner of the room and picked something up. He came back to you, knelt, and then presented one of Sam’s arms as an offering. A scraggly sound of fear escaped your throat and you turned away to fully face the corner. Another tear escaped you. The man whimpered and made a sound that almost sounded apologetic. He went to put the arm back where he had first put it. You sensed him return. You felt his heat radiating from his body. You smelled his sweat and his scent filling the room. You heard a soft sound escape his lips. You slowly turned to face him once more. He held his hand out to you. His eyes glowed in amber against the sun. You dared to reach a hand out, palm up, to accept his gift. Very slowly and gently, the man placed a small bird skull into the palm of your hand. You had no idea what kind of bird it was, but it was still greasy after it rotted the rest of its flesh away. “Thank you,” you whimpered. He nodded to you and made an effort to smile behind his mask and crooked teeth. From what you gathered, he could not speak. The best he could manage was small babbling sounds and a pig-like squeal that sounded frighteningly real. You wondered if he was alone here. If you were alone here with him. Your questions were immediately answered. You heard the screen door of the porch swing open and slam against the inside of the house. “Bubba!” You heard someone yell. In that moment, the man’s body seemed to change. His gentle submissiveness was exchanged for manic fear. His back straightened and he sat up. He looked from side to side, as if wondering what to do. Had someone else invaded the home? Would he kill them too? And then his eyes landed on you. Nervous sounds began to spill out of him and he held out a hand as if to say, “Wait there”. He grabbed the toppled-over stacks of animal hide and draped them over you. He covered your entire body until all you could see and smell were the tanned skins around you. You heard the voice get closer. “Bubba! What the hell is that car doing outside?” The voice sounded vaguely familiar. It was scratchy and dug itself under your skin. The voice was inside the room now. “What the fuck is this, huh? What the goddamn hell did you do?” The man with the skin mask began to babble incoherently, like a child. He was panicked and scared. And it scared you. If the man who had just chopped up your acquaintances was scared of this voice, how bad would this one be? This voice, like an old man... The gas station attendant. The old, wispy haired man. He knew the man in the house somehow. Why? Didn’t he see the bodies in the room? Wasn’t he scared? You heard the older man grab something heavy off of a table. “You goddamn bastard! Look at the fucking mess that you made!” You heard clambering and various objects being thrown to the ground. Their voices moved around the room as the older man chased the other, and you heard a hard thump as he hit the masked man with something. The leathered-faced man began to cry, deep painful sobs. The older man had hit him. For some reason, you felt you heart throb in your chest. “You got all of them, didn’t you?” The man made desperate sounds of his agreement. Yes, yes, they were all gone, nothing to see here. “Well, good! Now get this mess cleaned the fuck up!” The voice disappeared, and angry footsteps followed as the older man stamped down the hall and entered another part of the house. Suddenly, there was silence. Except for the man’s crying. He was sobbing, and you could almost hear the thick drops of tears land onto the creaky hardwood floor. You didn’t dare to move. You heard the man begin to move around the room, sniffling the entire time he did so. You heard the dripping of blood as he moved the bodies of Lana and Sam away. He righted the table and chairs close to you, and after a too-long silence, he carefully pried the tanned hides away from your face. The room was still a mess, but nowhere near as bad as before. The man pressed a finger to his lips and croaked out what could have been a shushing sound. He waved his hands, gesturing you to come closer. Tears streaked the cheeks behind his mask and left a trail of wet cleanliness behind his grime. You couldn’t go with him, could you? A man who killed your friends—alright well, tolerated acquaintances—was going to take you who knows where? But you found yourself more scared of the other man than this one. At least this one didn’t kill you right away. You scooted yourself closer to the man, and he picked you up and threw your body over his shoulder. You struggled to right yourself so you weren’t hanging upside down. But he shook your body and loosened your grip until you were hanging again. You allowed this to happen, but you wondered how you were going to get out of this room unnoticed. Then, the man approached Lana’s body. The front of her head was smashed in and you could see bits of brain and bone mixed into a pudding inside her skull. You almost threw up at the sight of it. Flies were already buzzing around her. The man grabbed her, or what was left of her, and threw her over his other shoulder. You realized what he was doing. He was disguising you as another corpse. If this was your only way out, then so be it. You played dead. You let your arms flap and swing down under you. All you could see was the floor and the bits of brain that fell out of Lana’s skull as you left the room. The old man’s voice rang out again, “Don’t get all that fucking shit over my floors!” And as quickly as it had come, it was gone, muffled in another room as he spoke to someone else you could not make out. It had somehow worked. He didn’t notice that he hadn’t seen your body before, possibly because he didn’t care, and left the rest of the dirty work to be handled away from him. The man carrying you turned and headed up the narrow stairs you had seen near the entrance. Fuck, the entrance. It was right there, so close you could almost taste it, but you felt the grip on you to be too strong to even try it. At the top of the steps, the man turned down a small hallway. He opened a door and entered a little room. He made a small grunt as he shook you off his shoulder and you landed on an old, creaky bed in the corner of the room. You righted yourself quickly and pressed yourself against the corner. The man pressed a finger to his lips and signaled that you should not move. You wouldn’t—you couldn’t—as you watched him exit the room with Lana’s body. The last thing you saw of her was the gaping hole in her head. The door gently closed behind him, and you were alone. You looked around frantically, looking for some way to get away. The room was generously decorated with more animal and human bones. Strings of femurs and ribs dangled from their nailed purchase in the ceilings. And like a bolt of lightning you remembered the small bird skull that you held in your hand. You slowly opened the desperate grip and stared down at it. You hadn’t realized that you still had it. You had held onto it out of fear, and its greasy texture coated the inside of your palm. You kept it in your hand as you looked around the unfamiliar environment. There was a large window to your right. You peeled yourself off the bed and took the few steps towards it. Thin, lace-like drapes allowed most of the amber sunset light blaze through the paint-chipped frames. You were on the second floor, that was obvious, and underneath you were scraggly dried branches of juvenile trees and the sharp, thorny brambles of bushes. You tried to dig your fingers underneath the window frame in an effort to pry it open, but the swollen wood couldn’t budge in this heat. You grunted and strained behind your full strength, but you couldn’t get it open. A faint jingling came from outside the bedroom door. You whipped yourself around, your eyes already searching for a new way of escape. The door swung open, and the man came in and closed it right behind him. The jingling came from a strange bracelet on his left wrist, and you wondered who had given it to him. The man was slightly hunched over, and his movements were wary. He shuffled towards you. He could not look you in the eye, rather, he came to you like a meek, punished puppy. Your heart could not help but to ache for him. The man was large, easily a full head and a half taller than you, but in this cowardly state, he only managed to be at eye level. Your body was frozen in place in front of the window. The man got so close that you were practically hugging the wall. His face inched closer to you and sniffed at the air around you. He finally managed to work up the courage to look you in the eye. He wearily brought a finger to his lips, and then pointed out towards the door. You could still hear the muffled voices from downstairs. He whined again, desperate to have you understand. Don’t make a noise, he meant to say, or they’ll hear you. You nodded slowly, and your teeth chattered with fear and dying adrenaline. His hands came up too quickly for you to react to. Their rough, working man’s palms rubbed against your flesh and squeezed. He pulled you over to the bed and had you sit down on the edge of it. He turned from side to side, frantic, as if he were trying to compute something within his mind. As if he were struggling to find the book inside that would translate his own communication to yours. His hands came up, palms forward. Wait here, it said, please wait here. He searched for some kind of understanding in your eyes. You nodded, and to your surprise, he seemed to beam at this. A large, crooked smile stretched from behind his mask. He squealed and reached for you. You flinched and backed yourself farther into the bed. The man stopped dead in his tracks. The smile disappeared, and his head sagged. He realized his excitement had scared you. In apology, he took the jumbled up blanket that hung off the foot of the bed and gently offered it up to you. He whimpered and lowered his gaze. You took the blanket from him and wrapped it around yourself. Despite the harsh heat still present in the stuffy house, you found yourself incredibly cold. Or maybe just in need of a little comfort. The man gave his wait motion once more, and then left the room. You felt as if you could breath again. The hanging bones and rotting flesh didn’t give the most pleasant smell, but you were alive. Lana and Sam weren’t, but you were. The small bird skull hidden in your grip was your trophy; it was the symbol of your survival. But as you thought about it, did you truly deserve to survive? Your mind tried to rationalize things. They were assholes, you thought. They were huge assholes that never have or would have done a good thing in their life. But even if that were true, you were at least partly responsible for their death. They had been giving you a ride. If you weren’t around, they could’ve gone off someplace else and never gotten stuck in road kill county. It was your fault. You couldn’t save Lana, the fear had taken over. You were a coward. You had done nothing. No, but you had tried. You had never seen a dead body before, what could you have done? You tried your best to excuse and reason with yourself. Your mind spiraled and repeated for the next hour. You were immobilized by your thoughts and by the sounds of voices emanating from downstairs. It was a repetitive cycle of guilt and rationalization, and you had no way of getting out of it or this room. The sunlight was slowly fading from the window, and as the last light turned orange and pink and purple, the man entered the room once more. He was hunched over, submissive, and had lowered himself from full height in order not to scare you. He was aware of his intimidating stature. However, his size was probably the least scary thing about him. He was hiding from behind his mask of leathered skin, but not in the way you first thought. He was not trying to hide his identity, no. What is more obvious than a large man in a mask made out of faces? Very few things, you would say. But he was trying to hide himself from the outside world either way. The mask was a part of him, a different face that he could show the world that despite its origin was more of a part of him than its original owner. He held a large plate in one hand, and a cup in another. As he crept closer, you were able to see more of what was on it. It was packed with mac and cheese, greens, and mashed potatoes. Your mouth drooled at just the sight of it. You hadn’t realized how desperately hungry you were. You were running on fumes since this morning, and your stomach twisted and flipped at the possibility of food inside of it. But the man was carrying it. How safe could it really be?   You wrapped the blanket tighter around yourself as he stood at the edge of the bed. With his head bowed, he offered up the food to you. It took a moment of him holding it to realize that he wanted you to take it. “Th-thank you.” You took the plate and cup out of his hand and placed the former on your lap. The man shifted from foot to foot and slipped a fork out from his apron pocket. He continued to shift from foot to foot as he waited for you to take your first bite. You stared at your food and debated. Was it truly safe? Could it be poisoned? Did you really have a choice? You raised your fork and began to pick at your meal. You looked up at the masked man, and his eyes shone bright with anticipation. You brought a forkful of mac and cheese to your mouth and ate it. Your taste buds exploded and your mouth coated itself with saliva. It was the best mac and cheese you had ever tasted in your life. Without pause, you began to take more and more food in your mouth. You didn’t know if you were that hungry or if it was just that good, but you did not hesitate with eating the rest of your plate. The man stared at you the entire time, his shifting growing quicker as he saw your enthusiasm. When you were done, you chugged down the rest of the old, slightly dusty cup and took a deep breath. You looked up at the man and managed a smile. “Thank you. That was–that was really good.” The man let out a cheerful squeal and took the plate and cup from you. As he reached down, you saw the large, purple bruises that plagued his forearms. Your heart dropped. Acting on instinct, you reached out and touched him. Your fingers grazed the dark discoloration on his hairy arms. He let out a high-pitched squeal and tugged himself away. He took a few steps back, as if you were the true danger here in this room. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You said. You brought up your hands to show that you meant no harm. “You’re hurt! May I see?” The man’s chest rose and fell with quick, nervous breathes. He set the plate and cup down on a small table nearby. Like a meek little puppy, the man reluctantly approached. With each step he took, his height and presence shrunk, until he was quite literally on your knees in front of you. He weakly held up his arm to you. His head had fallen to his chest and you could feel the apprehension wafting out of him in waves. You were careful not to put too much pressure on his arms in order not to hurt him. The bruises were quickly turning into huge welts. His forearms were filled with them, and you had the suspicion that the bruises crawled up onto his shoulders behind the short sleeves of his dress shirt. “Did the other man do this to you?” He nodded weakly. He made no effort to take his arm from you. He had been beaten into outright submission. If you could have afforded the tears, you would’ve cried. “Bubba?” The man’s head whipped up. “That’s your name, right? Bubba? That’s what that other guy called you.” The man, or rather, Bubba, gave a quick nod. His name on your lips and in the air made his heart beat faster. “Bubba—“ He cocked his head. “Does he do this to you a lot?” He gave another curt nod. He stood up in a sudden motion and sat himself on the bed. The sudden drop of his weight on the spring mattress almost sent you flying. Bubba put his head in his hands and his fingers pressed deeply into the skin of his mask. You reached out to touch him. To comfort him. Were you really doing this? Were you really going to comfort the man that you saw kill two human beings. A man that wore human skin on his face? As the thoughts raced around in your mind, you felt your own hand touch his shoulder before you could even think of it. He flinched at the touch, obviously not used to the end of a hand that was not striking him. You pulled away; scared that too much would warrant an angry or violent reaction out of him. “Did you...” your voice came out scraggly and hoarse so you cleared it. “Did you cook the food you gave me?” Bubba was sniveling and sniffling. He expertly hooked his fingers under the stitched skin to wipe away his tears, as if he had done it countless times before. It took a few moments before he nodded, and his sappy, teary eyes refused to make contact with yours. “Bubba–“ his back straightened. “That food was really amazing! You sure do know how to cook!” His hands crept up to his face, and through his fingers and mask, you could see the reddening in his face as he began to blush. “I mean it! You should be proud of yourself!” Bubba finally faced you, and his cracked lips pulled over crooked teeth to give you the biggest smile you had ever seen on a person. His thick, pudgy hands slapped his thighs in excitement. He began to bounce on the bed, his heavy weight sending shockwaves through it, and almost knocking you off. You couldn’t help but to laugh. His pure, unbridled joy was something difficult to come by, and it seeped into your bones and muscles and filled your belly full of laughter. Your happiness only caused him to get more excited, and he found himself further onto the bed, his legs crossed in front of him across from you. You tried to quiet yourself as to not draw attention to the others downstairs, but once you started laughing you couldn’t stop. This man in front of you, this murderer, had all the excitement and joy of a small child and the energies of it wafted through the air and settled on your skin. You didn’t know what had gotten into you. Was it Stockholm Syndrome? You couldn’t have fallen into it this quickly could you? It was so easy to condemn him for what he had done to people you couldn’t even stand—but still, they were people—when he wasn’t around, but now, with him in his pure joy, in his uncharacteristic innocence, he couldn’t help but forgive him. He didn’t kill you for one thing, but it was like he was a different person. The squealing, ferocious man that you had seen downstairs had morphed into this battered, giggling mess. It was wrong for the three of you to have come into the house, you knew that now. He was scared. Bubba was a frightened boy that lashed out and hurt and hurt because he didn’t understand. And maybe he didn’t understand death or killing but he did understand kindness and joy. And he understood fear. It seemed like he lived in fear every day. Bubba began to settle down, but his body continued to bounce, causing the bedsprings to creak. Your heart was thumping, but for the first time today it wasn’t from fear. The two of you were mushed onto this small, creaky bed in a room full of rot and hidden treasures, and in that moment, it became a sanctuary. Finally calm, you stuck out a hand to touch the beaten arm again. Bubba watched, his gaze quickly shifting from your hand to your eyes. He let you touch him and you saw the hairs on his arm stand up. You smiled and let out a small sigh. “Yeah, Bubba,” his name felt like sweet honey on your tongue, “Thank you. For giving me food. What I wouldn’t do for a bit of steak right now, though.” Like a shock running through your fingertips, you felt the presence in his body begin to shift. He sat up straight, his eyes boring into you. Without warning, he began to shake his head furiously from side to side. His sounds started at a whimper and crescendoed into a constant, loud squealing. He launched himself across the bed and grabbed you by the arms. The momentum and force behind his weight and body caused you to fall backwards, and suddenly he was on top of you. His eyes were wild with panic and his voice and squeals trembled with pain. He shook you, hard. His head wouldn’t stop shaking and his voice cried out as if he were trying to say words that he wasn’t capable of forming. You were a stone statue on the bed, unable to move from both fright and the weight that he put on you. You couldn’t look away from his eyes and see how scared they looked. Bubba let go of you and began to beat at his head, his flat palms slapping against either side of him. He was punishing himself for lord knows what, and you knew he wasn’t being gentle with himself. Your hands flew out and tried to grab his wrists and stop him, but he was too strong. He was crying again, and terrible sobs ripped through the room as he continued to hurt himself. You panicked. You didn’t know what you could do. So your next instinct was to slip your hands around his head and block his hands from hitting himself. The thick palms slapped against your hands, and the pain rang out of your fingers. You grimaced but kept your hands to block him. “It’s okay, Bubba! No meat! No meat!” He tried to hit himself once more when it clicked that your hands were around him, and he was hurting you and not himself. He stopped almost immediately. The room went quiet. Bubba’s lip quivered as he slowly removed your hands from the sides of his head. Your skin was growing a dark shade of red, and he brought your hands close in order to observe. His head tilted and he let out a small whimper. His eyes tore themselves away and returned to you. A small rumble that slowly morphed into a whimper escaped his throat. Bubba’s giant hands wrapped around yours, and he whined and whined like a desperate puppy once he realized he hurt you. His head peeled up after a moment, and his hand shot out to your side. You flinched at the sudden movement. He noticed this and went slow as he picked up the small bird skull he had given you earlier. He took one of your hands and placed the skull in your palm. His fingers curled yours and pressed your hand close to your chest. It was yours now. It was his apology. You gave him a slight nod but you couldn’t afford a smile. He knew he had done something wrong and he might have punished himself more if he knew you wouldn’t stop him. The poor boy was distraught. His eyes were red from tears and his entire body shivered despite the heat. The last rays of light traveled through the nearby window. You could feel your exhaustion growing as the day that could have been your last began to end. You heard the stomping of feet outside coming up the stairs. They stopped outside the room and an angry fist slammed against the old, wooden door. “Bubba! Shut your fucking yapping! Your brother and I are trying to have a fucking conversation!” It was the old man again, undoubtedly angry. A brother? Bubba has a brother? Was that the other voice? You couldn’t dwell on the thought for long, because Bubba’s large, shivering frame flinched and cowered at the voice. He pulled himself back onto the bed and pressed his body against you. You could feel every ounce of his weight as he leaned on you, and before you could stop him, he was burying his face against your side in fear. His hands gripped your shirt and you could feel the wetness of his tears drying against it. You felt the rumble in his chest as he whimpered in fright. Your hand fell against his back, and before you knew what you were doing, you were rubbing and comforting him. Almost immediately, the shivering stopped. A low hum in his body, like a purr, flowed through him and his head fell from your side to your lap. You froze at the sudden change in demeanor. Bubba was quick to change from anger to fear, or maybe it was all fear in different flavors. The thick, curly hair that did not belong to him shook with tears on your lap. Your hand continued to rub him. “Shhhh,” you hushed. “It’s okay, Bubba. It’s okay.” His body began to grow still on you. His fingers kept their strong hook on your clothing, but you managed to lean back against the pillow and wall and rest your head. Exhaustion clawed at your heart and eyes as your breathing began to slow, and the heat in the air and from Bubba’s body provided a blanket around you that you could not leave even if you wanted to. Surprisingly, you did not. Darkness fell over the light clinking of bones that hung from the ceiling. Sleep overtook you, and you were gone.

––––––––

You felt your heart before anything else. You felt the quickening thumping in your chest as your body began to wake around you. Your eyes fluttered open as you took in the peach glow of the morning sun. It was that sort of morning light you saw when you were young and woke up early, even before your parents, and watched cartoons with a blanket wrapped around you for protection. You felt warm as another blanket cloaked you now, although it was much heavier than you thought it would be. You turned to the side and were met with the crude, stitched-together mess of translucent skin and matted hair. Your heart began to speed up, but it slowed as your eyes drifted to the peaceful, closed eyes of the man behind the mask. The gentle curve of his long eyelashes twitched in his sleep, and his chapped lips lay partly open as he breathed in and out. His large hairy arm rested on top of you, the weight of it a comfort in the dawn. Your heart slowed on instinct. For some reason, you felt safe in Bubba’s arms. You were shocked, sure, to find yourself in this situation, but it felt… Right? Was it okay to feel right with this man? Was it okay to find yourself sleeping next to someone who had bashed a person’s skull in and sawed off their limbs to a stump? Maybe not, but it was what you felt. You felt some sort protectiveness over him. Despite his large body, he was frail. Like an abandoned puppy, lost in the rain, you wanted to scoop him in and place him in your warm care. You closed your eyes once more and shifted your body towards him. You were going to embrace him both physically and figuratively. He was only defending himself after all, and you enjoyed a man who would defend what was his with all he had. You turned your back to him and settled into the softness of his chest and tummy. You fit into him like the last piece in a thousand-piece puzzle, with just as much relief and satisfaction. A light noise passed his lips from the movement, and you grew still in order not to wake him. You slowly drifted into sleep. Your eyelids grew heavy with the sweet lull of unconsciousness. Your gentle rock into sleep was disturbed once more when you felt Bubba shift a bit behind you. You kept your eyes closed in case he was just readjusting himself, but the slight movement happened again. And again. You realized his hips were moving, bucking into you. In the swirl of your half-asleep mind, you barely noticed the hardened bulge in the center of his mass, pressed up against you. It was as if your body was asleep when your mind was not, and each of your movements was like moving through a slog of honey. Each touch against you left a buzz that flowed through your skin and deep into your bones. The hardened prod against your rear and thighs pressed gently against you, and you could feel the warmth of Bubba’s member against you. The arm around you gripped you harder, and Bubba pulled you in against each rut against you. He was slowly going faster, and his movements caused you to let out a throaty moan. Your mouth slammed shut as soon as you heard it, as the moan came out from pure instinct and stimulation. You were embarrassed by how easily he made you moan, but if it happened and felt this good, then why deny it? Bubba’s morning wood pressed against you once more before his arm removed itself from around your torso. He was much more awake than you were. His hand slipped down between the two of your bodies and to the front of his pants. You heard the light unzipping of his pants and then the warmth of his heat pressed against you. Your arms reached out above you and stretched the sleepiness from your muscles in beautiful satisfaction. Your back pressed up against him, and the softest of sounds escaped your lips once more. And to your surprise, Bubba responded with a sound of his own. The sound alone could have sent you over the brink. It was a huff that ended in a higher pitch, like a soft whine of desperation and need that sent wild thoughts through your mind of how badly he needed you. You felt his member already leaking against you, as it left warm, wet patches on the back of your pants. On instinct and pleasure, you ground your ass against him, just to get more of a feel of him against you. He was large, you could tell that much, but you were worried about turning around in case it would make him stop. Bubba’s arm wrapped itself around you again, and his face neared the back of your neck. You could feel his breath on you, and the slight chill of it made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. He whimpered again, as if pleading for you to take him. It seemed like this was his first time in this sort of situation, as his hips seemed to buck erratically and with slight hesitance. His belly pressed against you. He stopped for a moment and waited for you to show expressive interest. Now fully awake, you reached down to bring down the hem of your pants. The heat in your crotch was as hot or even hotter than the heat the rising sun that was blazing through the room. And then you felt it, you felt Bubba. He was incredibly, unfairly thick, almost like your forearm. He wasn’t the longest, but what he was packing made you tremble. You felt the eager tip of his cock press against the soft mounds of your ass. His entire body began to shake and shiver and you were convinced that he was going to cum right then and there if it weren’t for the loud footsteps and banging on the door that brought the both of you out of it. “Bubba!” The voice yelled, “It’s time to get breakfast ready!” Bubba’s breath was raspy against your neck, and you immediately pulled up your pants. They still didn’t know you were here, and if you weren’t careful, they would soon find out. And who knows what they would do to you. Bubba tucked himself into his pants before you could see him and—and wow, you actually wanted to see him. You felt a chamber in your core unlock as desire began to take over. This large, masked, strange man had torn a hole in your heart and had settled inside. He was so comfortable there that you had almost…almost… Bubba got up out his creaky bed. He whimpered as his legs dragged behind him. Before he opened the door, he looked back and made a motion for you to stay put, not like you had much of an option. He left and closed the door behind himself. And now you were alone. Alone with your thoughts. What were you doing? You were here, in a house where people had been killed, and you had just, you know, done things with the man who did it. It was wrong. It was sickeningly, disgustingly, intoxicatingly wrong. You had to admit to yourself that the fact that you knew what Bubba was capable of, that this soft puppy of a man was capable of such horrifying acts—but not with you—that it was…attractive. He could hurt someone for you. He could maybe even kill for you, and you knew his curiosity and obsession with you was growing. The simple fact that he was willing to hide you here from the man who hit him said enough. You didn’t owe him anything, but you wanted to give him everything. But your curiosity was getting the better of you. You heard the muffled voices and clattering of pots and pans from downstairs. You swung your feet over the bed and carefully distributed your weight as to not make the boards creak. With careful steps along the dresser and table, where the wood had settled the best, you carefully made your way to the door. You listened for a moment, and after you heard nothing, you cracked the door open and peaked outside. This was your first view of the hallway right side up. The walls were adorned with dark-green, peeling wallpaper that must have been set 20 years past. You saw the doors to a few more rooms and then the stairs leading down. Movement caught your eye as a dark shadow moved past the open crack of the door. Your heart froze in your chest as a man walked past you with no knowledge you were actually there. He turned the corner to go down the stairs, and in the brief moment before you hid behind the door, you saw his face. The face with a large, red birthmark the color of blood dripping down the side of his face.  The hitchhiker. It was the man on the road from yesterday who had tried to get you to come to his…house. You recoiled from the opening and brought your hands up to your face. You were always going to end up here, somehow. You were going to end up in this house, in this room, in this heat. But you realized just how lucky you were that you didn’t die like the rest of them. You were lucky that Bubba didn’t hurt you at all. You were here and that mattered for something didn’t it? And you were here with Bubba, which wasn’t so bad either. You heard the voices return and come up the stairs, and your undying curiosity brought you back to the crack in the door. You saw the hitchhiker again, and then Bubba behind him. You gathered that the hitchhiker was a bit nicer than the older man, as when he put his hand on Bubba’s back, the latter didn’t immediately flinch or cringe away from the touch. The older man yelled from the bottom of the stairs. “Now be careful with Grandpa, boys!” Grandpa? Bubba and the hitchhiker went into a room directly across from the top of the stairs. They had disappeared for only a moment when they reappeared once more. Between the two of them, they carried an old wooden chair, and in that chair was a corpse. Your breath caught in your throat and you heart froze in your chest. The corpse was that of an old man. Bald, sheet white, and sunken in, its head lulled from side to side as the two men carried it down the stairs. But it wasn’t a corpse at all. For the briefest moment, the old man regained its control over its head and turned to you. The sunken, hollow eyes made contact with yours before it lost its strength and dropped once more. You heard the thumps and coordination of their feet as they got to the bottom, along with the yelling from the older man. You took a deep breath and exited the room. You needed to see more. You needed to see more of Bubba. You took careful steps along the hallway until you reached the top of the stairs. You took a few steps down and sat. Your hands wrapped around the white bannisters whose paint had chipped and the wooden frame underneath peaked through. You could hear the voices much clearer now. They were below and around a corner. “Nubbins!” The older man cried out. “Go help your brother with the food!” When was this man not yelling? But also, was that the hitchhiker’s name? Strange. You had thought you misheard until you heard him respond. “Yeah, yeah, hold your fucking horses, Drayton.” Nubbins and Drayton. This was Bubba’s family. You heard even more clambering in the kitchen until it began to quiet. The scrape of old chairs against the wood floor signaled that they were sitting to eat. The thought of food made a pang of hunger hit your stomach. A moment of silence to say grace, and then the dining room erupted in noise once more. The all spoke loudly to each other, except for Bubba of course. They asked to be passed the bacon, eggs, ham, and even ribs. They had plenty of food, and you were curious at how they got them. But also, why did Bubba not want you to eat the meat if they were having so much of it now? You wanted to see more of the privacy of their meal, and you slowly slid off the step and lowered yourself down a bit more. You were now able to see farther into the dining room. It was adorned similarly to the rest of the house, with bones tied to and holding the majority of furniture together. You could see part of Bubba, or at least you thought it was him. He wore a mask, but a different one from before. It had short, grey hair, and a hole on the forehead similar to the one you met him in.  The skin sagged and lay wrinkled as it wrapped around Bubba’s face. He served food around the table, and babbled incoherent gibberish in a high-pitched voice. He seemed erratic and nervous as he tried to handle everything around the table. You wished you could run down the stairs and hug him tightly. But you knew that you would be in danger as soon as Nubbins or Drayton knew of your existence. Through a mouth full of food, Drayton muttered, “You did it again, Bubba! Great fucking breakfast. Who knew you could make such great shit out of such little meat, eh? Sometimes God simply provides.” “Hey!” Nubbins yelled, “I’m the one that sent them here!” “You didn’t send shit! You couldn’t even get into their fucking car! You didn’t do anything to provide for this family, you chickenshit! Bubba here, Bubba made something for us. He took care of those fucking kids and used their best bits and gave us this. Do you know how to do that? Do ya?” The voices quickly reduced to a jumble of screaming and yelling. Bubba bumbling and whimpering only added to the chorus. But you weren’t paying attention to that. Their bits? Their best bits? What did he mean? Their luggage? It wouldn’t serve any sort of use. And– No, their bits. Their meat. This grand breakfast the day after you saw them chopped up amongst the bones. They were eating them. And Bubba had cooked them up. That was why he didn’t want you to eat it. If you could, you would have bolted out of here this instant. In fact, what was stopping you?  You stood up, not caring if the stairs underneath emitted any sound. Your legs tensed and you held your breath. Just as you were about to run for your life, you heard a clattering crash and slam. “Bubba!” A whimper. Then a hard smack of a sound. Bubba started to sob. “Bubba you useless, goddamn child! Look what your bumbling ass did with all this! You clean this shit up right now or I swear your ass is gonna red till next Sunday!” Bubba was bumbling and sobbing in his nonsense language, and you could imagine him putting up his hands in his defense. No, you couldn’t leave. Not while Bubba was still like this: alone and afraid, beaten and abused. You were one of the few to show him kindness, and you didn’t want to think about the heartbreak leaving him would do. Every cell in your body was telling you to go, especially now that you knew their eating habits, but you couldn’t leave Bubba. Your feet slowly crept back up the steps, and before you knew it, you were back in Bubba’s room. The bird skull was still waiting for you on the bed. You picked it up and held it close to your chest. You waited for what seemed like forever until you heard the faint jingle of Bubba’s bracelet as he came to the door. He opened it quietly, as if to not disturb you, as if this was no longer his room but yours and he was intruding. You watched him practically crawl to you like a punished dog, not quite knowing what he had done wrong. He carried a plate in his hand piled high with food. The old lady mask was gone and he had returned to his usual one. You felt your heart throb in your chest. The corners of your eyes stung with the beginnings of tears as you watched this (somewhat) innocent man reduced to the small, quivering mess before you. Bubba offered the food to you, bringing it up with his head bowed. The food was quickly in your hands but you did not devour it. You placed it aside and whispered: “Oh, Bubba... are you okay? I heard. I heard everything.” He looked up at you in shock. He knew that you knew and the shame was plain on his face. He whimpered and went on his knees. His hand clasped together in a plea, in forgiveness. “No!” Your voice shook and trembled in its strength. Bubba’s body grew into stone at your feet. “There is nothing to forgive. It’s okay.” Your arms opened and welcomed him into your warmth. The hard stone around his body crumbled away and he embraced you. His head collapsed on your shoulder, and the tears from his eyes soaked your dirty shirt. “I know what you do. And while I don’t quite…understand, I won’t leave alone here. Not with him. You’re safe with me.” Bubba’s body began to rise to his full height, but he never let go of you. He picked you up and his arms grew into a strong vice of a hug that you did not want to leave. Your feet dangled off the ground, and you felt every ounce of strength that Bubba was careful not to use too much against you. He was a specimen of natural strength, and you were well aware of what his arms were capable of. They were capable of crushing, maiming, killing, slaughtering, loving. Bubba set you down onto the bed once more and his gentle hand waivered above you. You could see how desperately he wanted to touch you, how his thick, calloused hands wanted to stroke your face, but could not dare to do. So you solved the problem for him. You grabbed his hand and place it against your cheek. His strong palms pressed against your skin and slowly trailed down to your jaw and then your neck. He watched his face as he did so. You watched the glowing, honeyed brown eyes as they reflected the light of the morning. You watched as he slowly and carefully inspected every inch and detail of your skin. You tried to gather as much information that was buried behind the mask, but all you could see was wonder. Bubba’s hand lowered down to your neck. You had watched that hand smash a girl’s head in, and now it was delicately tracing the tendons and veins of your throat. His fingertips grazed your collarbone and you knew he would keep going lower and lower unless you stopped him. But you didn’t. You wanted to see more of the pure joy and wonder in his eyes. His mouth let out small sounds of satisfaction whenever he hit a certain curve or angle of your skin. A soft whimper as he traced the small indent of your clavicle, and then a squeak as he grazed the flat surface of your sternum. A low growl escaped from his throat, and as suddenly as his touch was on you, it was gone. He slunk away from you, and it was plain just how scared he was to touch you any more. You realized he had never had this before. He never had someone to touch that wanted to be touch. And your heart ached for him. Bubba recoiled from you and picked up the food once more. He tried to offer it once more, but you weren’t interested in that. Bubba did not think he was worthy of you or your touch, but you wanted to show him that he was. You took the plate of food from him, and stood up. He took a few steps back and began to cower, worried that you were going to reject him and his food and get violent in some way. You set the plate down carefully on the table and approached Bubba like he was a scared, stray dog. You were slow and careful with each step, and after a few moments he stopped backing away. Bubba let out a constant stream of whimpers and cries as you closed in on him. You hushed him. “Bubba, shhh shhh, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.” His hands came up to protect himself, but they faltered at your hush. Backed against the wall, he seemed so defenseless. And now you knew that he could never hurt you. With your hands raised in front of you, you let him know that you were going to touch him. Your palms pressed against his broad, heaving chest, and he immediately began to calm. He was panting from fear, but with each moment of contact, he began to go at ease. Bubba’s lip quivered and he whimpered as your hands explored his chest. You were a bit scared to touch his face, or “face” rather, but you stomached it to put your hands on either side of it. “I’m here, Bubba. It’s okay.” His dark eyes softened and locked onto yours. His hands came up and held yours to his face, and he applied a comforting pressure to them. After a moment, he let go, and you did as well. Your hands wandered down to chest once more, but this time, your hand wrapped around his patterned tie and tugged lightly. Bubba whimpered once more, but he quickly quieted when he pressed his lips against yours. You felt the surprisingly soft lips quivering against your own before they pressed harder into you. Your eyes widened from surprise, but softened as you felt more of his body around you. Your grip on Bubba’s tie grew stronger and pulled him in deeper. Your mouth parted, and your tongue slipped past his sharp, crooked teeth and slid across his hot, thick tongue. You felt the vibration of his whimpers echoing against your mouth, and you wanted to hear more of it. His sweet, desperate sounds sent chills down your body. His hands had crept up to continue exploring your body as he was before. His hands landed on your hips and squeezed before he continued upwards. Your tongue intertwined with his and you felt burning desire flow through you. You tugged on the tie again and began to lead Bubba back to the bed. You were careful as tried not to hurt the dark bruises throughout his body. “I’ll take care of you, Bubba.” He whined like a lovesick puppy. You turned him around, still with your grip around his tie, and sat him down onto the bed. He whimpered and cried out as you broke away from his lips. “Lie down.” You ordered. He immediately obeyed. As he rested on his back on the old, creaky bed, you saw the bulge in his pants as clear as day. You could tell just from the sight of it just how big he was. Bubba continued to look up at you. His tongue licked his lips. He was already addicted to you. He would do anything you asked of him. He was completely submissive. You slowly crept up onto the bed, and crawled over his body. You planted yourself firmly on his lap, his bulge pressing upwards against you. You leaned down to kiss him once more, before your hand righted around his tie and your hips began to grind. And then Bubba went wild. He began to squeal and babble much louder than he had before as his hips began to buck on their own and you began to bounce on him. His hands began to tug and pull at your clothing, as he tried his best to tear it off. “Bubba,” you said sternly, “Put your hands above your head and keep them there.” He immediately obeyed once more. His hands went above his head and gripped the bed’s headboard. You knew the strength in those arms, arms that could easily lift you up and take you exactly how he wanted to, but he had relinquished control to you, and you would not squander that gift. Bubba quieted and waited for you to move. You could feel his throbbing heat pulsating against your groin and you grew hungrier by the second. You took a moment to take off your shirt, and you saw Bubba reach out to touch you. You wagged your finger and he put his hands away once more. Bubba was panting desperately like an animal in heat. His mouth hung completely open, and his tongue lolled out of the corner of his mouth. You could practically see his hot breath huffing out of him. You were convinced that he would explode any second, as he seemed to grow and grow underneath you. The next thing to go was your pants. You quickly unbuttoned and threw them off onto the floor. Now completely bare, you could feel the throbbing heat in Bubba’s pants that was only separated by a few layers of fabric. Bubba’s ragged breath came out as constant noise, and you loved it. You ground your hips against his for a few moments as you felt his erection grow to its full size. The fabric of his pants could barely contain it. Finally, you scooted down in order to free him. As soon as you unzipped his pants, his thick, veiny cock sprung out from its cage. Your breath caught in your throat as you took the view in. To say he was thick was an understatement. Bubba was easily as thick as your wrist, and strong, pulsing veins added ridges to his member. He wasn’t the longest you had experienced, but it was his girth that shocked you. You knew it was going to ruin you and you were eager for it. His menacing cock jumped and twitched as he could feel your eyes on him. You raised yourself up, and ever so carefully; you grazed your aroused crotch against Bubba’s burning cock. He howled in pleasure and bucked up to reach you, but the momentary friction was gone as you continued to move yourself upwards. You didn’t stop until your groin was right above Bubba’s mouth. You could see his white-knuckled grip on the wooden headboard as he used every ounce of his willpower not to touch you. “You’re a big boy, Bubba. So you’re going to have to get me ready.” A moment later and you placed your entrance to his mouth, and he began to work. His thick, warm tongue slithered out past his lips and traced circles around your entrance. Your voice choked in your throat as you felt the warm tongue lap at you. Your legs trembled around Bubba’s head. You rested yourself fully on his face, and his tongue began to explore your depths.  You felt your entrance part as his tongue ventured inside, leaving a slimy hot trail of saliva across every inch.   Through gasps and moans, you were able to let out a few words. “You can touch me now.” Bubba did not need to hear anything more before his hands removed themselves from the headboard and wrapped their thickness against your thighs and pulled you down completely onto his face. It was like he was trying to devour you from the inside out. His tongue, lips, and even teeth worked in conjunction to prepare you. Your eyes slowly wandered to the headboard, and you saw the faint splintering of the wood around the indents of his grip. His noises never stopped. They vibrated and reverberated against your entrance. His hips bucked in a futile attempt at friction in the air. You were worried that you were suffocating him underneath your meat, but every attempt to pull away only strengthened his grip around you. His thick, slobbery tongue penetrated you as deep as it could, but it was not enough. You called Bubba’s name and he worked himself harder. “Good, Bubba. That’s my boy.” You pulled at the hair of his mask and bucked your hips, gliding up against Bubba’s noise and face with your protrusion. You decided you were ready, or rather, you couldn’t wait any longer. You tapped Bubba on the shoulder to get his attention. “Take me, Bubba. Fill me up.” He let out a hog-like squeal underneath you and pulled you off of his face. Bubba sat up and guided the weight of your body without a problem as he settled your entrance on the head of his cock. Just the head would be difficult enough to put inside, but you calmed yourself and slowly wriggled to ease it in. Bubba had other plans. He grabbed you by the hips, and pushed you down as hard as he could. White-hot burning pain exploded around you as you felt his thick cock travel to the depths of your body. Each vein was large enough to feel against your walls, and the gentle curve upwards guided the fat head to your special spot deep within. You cried out in pain for only a moment before Bubba covered your mouth with his thick palm. He looked up at you in wonder, and you watched a thick strand of drool ran down the corner of his mouth. His dark, hungry eyes were vacant with lust, and he only took a moment to buck into you. You could feel every single inch of him inside you. You felt his thick girth stretch you to your absolute limit. Your head of nerves gently stroked against Bubba’s belly. You needed something to grab onto, and on instinct you reached for his tie once more. You wrapped it around your hand several times before you tightened it against his throat. His squeal died down from the pressure on his airway, and his lips parted in order to breathe. His hips began to buck faster. Despite the pain you were in, you were leading him in your joined pleasure.

“Faster, Bubba. Go faster.” His hips continued to buck up into you, and you let out breathy moans along with his whimpers. Bubba’s arms wrapped around you, and firmly hugged you to his chest. His hips bucked faster, and more and more of his cock tugged the flesh in and out of you. Bubba’s eyes never left your face. He watched as every one of his movements displayed itself on your visage. Each thrust into you hit just the right spot, and forced deep moans out from your mouth. Your sensitive stretch of nerves rubbed against Bubba’s pelvis and stomach, and the unending stimulation caused you to tuck your head in the crook of his shoulder. His head pressed against your own in his own display of kindness and affection. But not too long after, his rut into you began to escalate. His hips became faster and his cock fucked you harder. There was no hiding your noises now, it was all too late. Bubba’s squealing joined your moans as you held on for dear life. You were bouncing on his cock, and his entire length would slip out of you before sliding itself back in once more. Your entrance was aching but that only added to your desire. Bubba lifted you slightly and you wrapped your legs around his waist. Suddenly, you were on your back, and his weight was above you. He slowed down considerable to try not to hurt you, but a quick tightening of his tie, like a leash, hurried him once more. “Faster, Bubba, Faster. Bury yourself inside.” His hips were slamming into you at a manic pace. You could feel the base of his cock slam against your entrance with each quick push upwards. Bubba released a constant stream of needy sounds, and they only stopped once his lips landed on your neck. His sharp teeth bit and rugged at your glowing skin. With each bite he slid his fat tongue across your neck to accent each one. His tongue lapped at you and explored every inch of you. He pumped away below, but above, he kissed and sucked and licked, his mouth a roaming band of sensations. With one last twirl of his tongue, his mouth latched onto you completely. You could feel his teeth scrape and lips suction, and you already knew he was leaving deep hickeys on your skin. His animalistic grunt vibrated against your throat. Your mind had begun to meld into only blind pleasure. Along with his cock, his lips, his teeth, and his tongue, the front of you rubbed against his round belly. He was all around you and every inch provided you with pleasure. Your grip around his tie began to tighten as you felt your orgasm coming to a peak. Unexpectedly, Bubba’s hand moved from your thigh to the front of your groin. His agile hand worked you from what he knew from his own self-pleasure. He rubbed and tugged, and quickly switched from using just his thumb to his the palm of his hand and back again. It was all too much. Too much too much. Your legs quivered and your entire body shook as you came. The tie tightened itself around his throat until he could not breath. Your head rocked back as you let your orgasm take you as far as it could. Bubba continued to pump away at you, and your walls began to close around his cock like a vice. His thrusts began to quicken, and he remained deep within you. He still could not breathe, and it wasn’t until a squeak managed to escape his lips that you loosened the grip around his throat. He fucked away, until he began to squeal and pant wildly.  Bubba’s hip stuttered for just a moment before he let out a harsh grunt, left your neck, and stared into your eyes as he came. He pumped you full of his cum, his hips continuously going until all of his seed was spent. You felt each hot spurt hitting your walls and filling up your guts with each thrust. And then, he jammed the rest of his cock inside, sealing your entrance with all of his hot juices inside. He kept you plugged for as long as he could bear to before the overstimulation caused him discomfort. You felt his warmth in the depths of your belly. Very slowly, Bubba pulled his thick monster of a cock out of you. His giant head made a pop as he exited you, and your gaping hole began to ooze the fruit of his labor. You felt every string and drop as it emptied out of you. You took a moment to take a few breaths and thought it was over. It wasn’t. Bubba’s cock did not waver after its orgasm, and instead stood strong beneath you. He had lived without a kind, living touch for so long, and he was going to get as much as he could out of you. Your grip around his tie was gone, but you were able to peak at the bright red marks along his neck that your control had caused. He immediately began to line up the gorgeous head of his cock against your entrance once more. He had stretched you to your limit, and your muscles did not provide any sort of obstacle to his member. You felt his warmth slip inside of you, slick on his hot cum. Bubba plugged you once more, and his cock filled you to the brim. You were still sensitive from your orgasm just moments before, but the deliciously painful stretch of your muscles distracted you from it. You were completely focused on Bubba above you. You focused on his soft eyes as he traced the features on your face. You focused on the feeling of the hot air around you. You focused on the thump of your heart in your chest. Bubba’s thrusts were slow at first as he tried to create a tempo, but once he did so, he began to thrust into you as quickly as possible. He humped away like a mad dog, his thick, burning cock pressing into your guts and smearing the remnants of his last orgasm against your walls. Your muscles were growing weak. He pumped away at you, his eyes bored into you as they watched his every movement that caused you to moan. His hands squeezed every bit of flesh that they could find. Before long, he let out another squeal and came into you once more. Even more cum came out of him than the first round. Each thrust caused more of his juices to implant themselves inside you, and he buried his cock deeply within. He had a thing for keeping his cum inside you, which was plain to see, and you were into it just as much. He filled your insides quickly, and you swore that you could feel the slight distention caused by both his fluids and his cock. You let out a long, guttural moan as he slowly pulled himself out. You felt his cum slowly drip and ooze out of you, and you were so tempted to use your fingers to spread it around your entrance. Bubba beat you to it. His fingers rubbed along your entrance in long strides, which coated his fingers in his own cum. He whimpered, and ducked his head down between your legs. His hot, wet tongue lapped at your entrance. It twirled and stroked up each drop of his cum that left your body. Occasionally, he dipped his tongue inside to coerce more of himself out of you. The sensation of his wetness sliding across your used up entrance caused your breathing to falter. You listened to him slurp up his cum, and his gentle touch sent gentle waves of pleasure through you body. You hand thrust out and held the back of Bubba’s head to your crotch.

“More, Bubba.” You were addicted to his heat and his tongue and you were not going to let go. He began to slid his flat thickness across your entrance and up over the rest of your groin. His tongue flicked and twirled at the tip, and you heard him gulp down his warm fluids. You looked down and saw his thick, white cum coat his tongue as he pulled it into his mouth, and you felt your body shake once more. You came again and pulled his face back into you, burying him into your scent. He cleaned up the remains of your orgasm and sighed in contentment. Bubba pulled away much too soon, as you could stay there with his head between your legs for hours. But alas, he pulled away, the both of you satisfied. Bubba repositioned himself and rested his head on your chest. The two of you stayed there for what felt like an eternal paradise. His heavy weight on you was a comforting presence, and the slow rhythm of your joined breathing sent your heart into peace. All was still, quiet, and perfect. Until your voice broke through the silence. “Run away with me, Bubba.” Bubba’s head perked up from your chest. He looked at you and tilted his head in confusion. You repeated yourself. “Run away with me. You don’t have to stay here. You don’t have to be with them. Come with me. Please?” Bubba sat up and stared at you with the same quizzical expression. You sat up next to him and place your hands on either side of his face. “You won’t be hurt anymore. You won’t have to be scared. And you’ll be with me! Please? Please, Bubba?” He stared at you for much too long. His eyes flicked from side to side until ultimately, he shook his head no. You felt your heart throb in your chest as it sunk into a pit. A sob got stuck in your throat. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. You went to hold him, but he caught you by the arms. He shook his head. “Why? Why won’t you come with me?” Your voice began to crack from the sobs you were desperately trying to hold at bay. Bubba turned to the side, to the distant sound of voices, and pointed. He jabbed a finger in the air, and then slowly brought the flat of his palm to his chest. Family. “No, no, no! That’s not an excuse for how they treat you! You don’t deserve that!” Your mind became clouded with emotions. Sadness, pain, anger mixed into a volatile cocktail. “Fine! Fine, then. Stay here.” You started to dress yourself. While you picked up your clothes from the floor, Bubba tried to grab you. You shook him away as tears streamed down your face. “I’m out of here, Bubba. I’m going. I’m running and I’ll keep running. Join me or not, I don’t care.” You managed to get your shirt and pants on in a hurry, and you stood up in indignation. “But I’m going to have a little chat with them first.” Bubba began to squeal in a panic. No, the squeals said, they’ll hurt you, they’ll kill you, you must stay hidden. Before he could grab you and hold you back, you were out the door and heading down the stairs. About halfway down, you realized what you were doing. What were you thinking? They were the dangerous ones. They were the ones Bubba was afraid of, especially Drayton. And here you were, with a death wish. But it was too late now. “Hey!” Your voice rang out like a loud bell through the home. It pierced their usual sounds and instilled silence over the house. You turned the corner to find Drayton and Nubbins together talking. Their confusion was probably the only reason you were alive right now. You had the element of surprise. “You goddamn bastard!” You pointed at Drayton and closed the few feet between you to be able to jab at his chest with your finger. Your words spewed our with hatred anger in quick succession. “You fucking asshole how dare you hurt Bubba like that I should fucking gut you–” You didn’t know where you were going with this, but Nubbins stopped you before you could go any further. He grabbed you by the arms and held you back. His thin frame held a surprising strength and in a moment you were immobilized. You continued to shout obscenities at Drayton, and they only got louder once he took a step closer to you. He opened his mouth to order Nubbins to do something to you, hurt you most likely, but he didn’t get a chance to say it. Bubba thundered into the room, came up from behind Nubbins, and grabbed him by the neck. He grunted like a madman. It was with such a fury that you had never heard from him before. Nubbins let go of you out of shock. He was quickly tossed aside, and fell on a chair decorated with bones of previous meals. He landed in a clatter and the room was in an uproar. You were screaming at Drayton who was screaming at Nubbins who was screaming at Bubba who was howling and grunting like a maniac. Bubba took you into his arms and shielded you from his family. His giant frame protected you from all of them, and when they saw this, the two quieted. “What the hell is going on here?” Drayton asked Bubba. “Have you been hiding someone in your room? Part of those college kids?” “It is! It is!” Nubbins shouted. “I remember!” His mouth stretched into a toothy grin. Bubba gave a quick nod, but didn’t look at Drayton or Nubbins. Bubba stood between you and his bully, and his eyes were glued to the ground. “What the fuck were you thinking? Get rid of it now!” Bubba let out a defiant huff and shook his head no. You knew in that moment that neither of them were going to touch you. “Bubba! Do as I say!” Bubba shook his head even harder now. His entire body was trembling. He was afraid. You reached out and touched his arm to let him know you were still there. Even without looking at you, his body strengthened and he straightened himself up to his full height. “I’m thinking maybe Bubba has got a crush!” Nubbins laughed. “Good for him!” He laughed harder and turned to Drayton. “Aww come on, let the boy have something good for once!” “Something good? He’s got one of these fucking little shits as a pet!” “Hey!” You yelled out. “I’m no one’s pet! I could leave if I wanted to! I could...I could! But I’m here for Bubba.” “Come on, Drayton,” Nubbins whined. “It’s someone new to play with. It’s someone I can photograph. For free!” Drayton obviously wasn’t expecting this sort of resistance. You never thought you would feel this way, but you were actually grateful for Nubbins presence. “Bubba—“ Drayton began, but Bubba’s incoherent babbling cut him off. It seemed like Drayton was more used to it, and could decipher a bit here and there, or at least get the notion that you were Bubba’s and here to stay. Here to stay huh? You didn’t know if you wanted to stay. But you couldn’t leave Bubba here alone. Now, you had the chance to protect him. And maybe a chance to convince him to one day leave with you. You could see the invisible hackles begin to soften on Drayton’s back. He watched Bubba and his desperate attempt to save you, to protect you. There was at least one semblance of a conscience in him. “Well, I guess it’s not too much of a bother.” Nubbins managed to get up from his place on the floor and howled with a cheer. He stepped over to Bubba and gave him a playful slap on the back. Bubba looked at him from behind his mask and smiled his little scraggly-toothed grin that you could just die for. Nubbins turned to you, still under Bubba’s watchful eye, and held out a hand. It looked like he was coursing with energy as he shuffled from foot to foot, and gave a nervous laugh. “Welcome to the family, I guess!” You hesitated for a moment. You tuned to Bubba and once you received sign of his approval, you took Nubbin’s hyperactive hand and gave it a good, stern shake. You and Bubba turned to Drayton, who stood with a clear look of disapproval. He sighed. “Bubba’s gonna grow bored of you, and once he does, I’ll end up cleaning the mess.” He shook his head and walked out of the room. You knew he was trying to scare you. A minuscule part of you worried that he might be right. But even though you had only known Bubba for a short time, you knew he would never hurt you. He would protect you. He would fight for you. He would kill for you. He would die for you. Bubba was your loyal pet. And you would protect him just as he would with you. Nubbins slowly crept out of the room, and the two of you were finally alone again. “I’m sorry, Bubba. I know, it was dangerous. I just—I just don’t want them to hurt you anymore. I’m going to protect you from now on, okay? I’ll always be here for you.” Bubba whimpered and tilted his head to one side. He wondered how he could deserve this kindness. But you knew he did. He leaned down and held his hand to the back of your head. Held in place, he kissed you fiercely, his lips soft and strong against you. Bubba pulled away too soon, although every kiss would end too soon with him. He dug something out of his apron pocket and handed it to you. The small bird skull rested in the giant palm of his hand. It looked so delicate and frail. His hand was large, meaty, brutal, and yet, he held this skull with the utmost care. You took it from him and thanked him. The hot sun had fully entered the sky, and sweat began to seep from your pores. Rot grew both inside and outside of the Sawyer house, but within you, love blossomed.

[tipsyylove]

[2:38 am] jaehyun and you had broken up over two years ago. he still thinks about you daily. your smile. your laugh. your eyes. the way you looked at him. the one time you changed your flight to stay with him longer. he thought he had it all figured out. until you left. you said you had gotten bored of him, and needed change. it broke him. he didn't eat. he didn't smile. he didn't laugh. he didn't think of anything except for you. all that was on his mind was you. his heart hurt. he couldn't bare the thought of you with someone else. that's why it hurt when he saw you at the club with another man. you had a new look. you dyed your hair a lighter color. you looked happy, though. you were smiling again. it made him smile a little bit. but then you looked at the new man the way you used to look at him.

you then noticed him at the corner of your eye. you looked at him a couple of times, realizing how skinny he was. you were concerned. why had your jaehyun done this to himself? it pained you to see him so thin. he had caught you staring at him and you didn’t look twice. you continued the talk with the other man.

"what's up with that guy? he keeps eyeballing you." he asked, his face full of disgust.

"it's a long story."

"do tell." he said.

“he’s my ex. i got bored of him. he never did anything romantic anymore. he was just waiting our relationship out. nothing ever really happened, though. we never fought, we never hit each other, it just got, boring.” you explained.

“i understand.” he spoke

he doesn't understand. he never will. he knows nothing about that relationship.

this new guy was starting to get boring. you had to escape somehow. but what were you gonna do? talk to jaehyun? that’s crazy. maybe even idiotic. but it might be your only option.

“im actually gonna go talk to him. go see what’s up.”

“so you’d rather go talk to your boring ass ex, instead of me?”

“that’s exactly what im saying.”

“fine. bye” he waved at you.

you walked closer to jaehyun, and before you got too close, you noticed his body was shaking, his head was down, and he seemed to be crying. did you cause this? did you break him? why was he so broken. you tapped his shoulder, waiting for him to turn around.

“what do YOU want?” he asked, wiping his tears.

“jaehyun, i came to see what’s wrong. why are you crying?”

“you. it’s because of you. i haven’t stopped thinking about you since that day. (y/n), you know how much i loved you. im sorry that i bored you. i didn’t want you to go. but you left. now that i think about it, did you even love-”

“it’s so loud in here, can we go outside to talk?”

he nodded in response, and you led him outside onto a hill.

“why are we here? it’s cold.” he shivered.

“it’s pretty.” you said, inhaling the fresh night air.

“just like you.” he said, quietly.

“what was that?” you asked.

“nothing.”

“anyways, what were you saying in there?”

“(y/n), do you remember that time you changed your flight to stay with me a little longer? the way you used to look at me? the way we used to watch romance movies and laugh at them? the way you laughed when i made when i told an awful joke? the way i would let you cry on my shoulder when you were sad or stressed? the way i would let you talk to me about anything? the way you endearingly said, ‘i love you’ to me all of the time? i thought i had it right, for months, i was thinking about proposing to you. i didn’t want to scare you.” 

he was sobbing at this point. thinking of the memories of you together was so painful for him. you didn’t know what to do. you wanted to rub his back. but you didn’t want to hurt him more than you already had.

“(y/n), can i ask you one last favor?” he asked, wiping his tears.

“yep.” you said, tearing up.

“i know that you don’t, but can you please just tell me you love me one last time? lie to me, please. it’s all i want, and then ill leave you alone, forever.”

“jaehyun, i love you.” you spoke.

it was silent for a while, but then you decided to speak up again, closing your eyes to hide the tears.

“im sorry. i was never intending to hurt you the way that i did. i never wanted to shatter you. please, jaehyun, for me, eat. ive moved on at this point but, i want you to know, that no matter how many men i see ill always-” you had opened your eyes to see jaehyun missing. you look around in the dark a little bit, and after searching for a while, you see him on another hill, with a gun to his head. you hear him yell,

“i love you, (y/n), and please don’t ever forget that.”

before shooting himself. you watch his body fall to the ground, and you immediately start crying. people at the bar must’ve heard the shot, and a lot of people came outside. they saw you cradling jaehyun in your arms, and starting crying as well. the guy from earlier walked up closer to you two. he saw you were crying, and walked away slowly.

--------------------

it’s been a month since the incident. you decided to cremate him and keep him in your apartment, to keep him happy. in spirit, you knew he was there. you hadn’t stopped crying, it was constant tears 24/7. you felt so guilty. you didn’t eat anything except for ice cream, and all you do now is watch the shows and movies you and jaehyun once watched.

--------------------

song: lie to me - 5sos

[shawnsorangeglasses]

Love’s Camisado - (bartender!shawn au)

.i’m enjoying the idea of Shawn being a bartender (i guess that’s his second job now idk i dig it) nobody asked for this but  🎶i don’t care🎶 3.3k words

warnings: some strong language, drinking, minor fluff at the end, and a guy who can’t hear “no”

...

Dina was still getting over a breakup that’s had her stuck in this weird state of depression for about a week now. So I called her on Friday and said we were going out on Saturday, deliberately eliminating no as an option. My homework was finished and I was ahead of schedule for once and I figured this is as good a time as any to leave my dorm for once. Fully intending on staying sober for the night, I put on the most casual outfit I could find and start packing supplies.

I almost look like a soccer mom, waiting for Dina to show up at the club doors. I had a drawstring bag full of baby wipes, snacks, water, a spare case of makeup, band-aids, some ibuprofen for her potential hangover, and whatever I normally carry every day. This is a list I’ve made over years of knowing Dina and her nightly habits. The usual pattern is she’ll get drunk off her ass and either I’ll take her home or she’ll go home with whichever guy or girl and I’ll rescue her tomorrow morning.

Our region was starting catch wind of some colder weather so I decide to drive to the bar. I didn’t wear anything more than a pair of leggings, t-shirt, and a denim jacket. She meets me just outside the doors of the Lotus Pool club around 7:00 PM. This is where most college students come on the weekend. My muted outfit bears a striking contrast to Dina’s glittery green cocktail dress. Business is perfectly slow at this time so we get in without a problem. It’s only when the sun goes down that a line starts to form.

Once inside, I immediately scan the room for Shawn, our favorite bartender. He’s also going to college with us but this is where we always come to see him on the weekend. I guess I’d call him a friend, but this is kind of the only place we really interact other than the few times I see him on campus. We went to the same high school but our circles never crossed.

He’s alternating between serving the few regulars and tidying up the behind the bar when we walk in. Dina and I quietly sneak  while his back is turned. “Shawn!,” we both shout and he turns with a start. His face slowly melts into a warm smile when he realizes it’s just us.

“Hi ladies,” he says sheepishly. “You both look lovely. How are you holding up Dina?”

“Better,” Dina says with a sigh. “I didn’t need Tess anyway. I’m finding myself a new squeeze tonight, count on it. Can I have the strongest, fruitiest drink you know how to make? Surprise me.”

“Of course, honey,” He takes a red bottle from the shelf then turns to me. “Are you having anything tonight (Y/N)?”

“No sir, I am driving. But thank you anyways.” Shawn nods and continues to make Dina’s drink. She’s such a lightweight, she’s tipsy within minutes. Soon, people start to roll in and situate themselves at the bar, forming a decent crowd. There aren’t a lot of students out tonight as midterm exams are just around the corner.

“If there’s any way I can help in tonight’s quest for love, please don’t hesitate to ask,” Shawn says before heading off to serve his next patron.

A few hours go by and I’m watching the room carefully from the comfort of my bar stool. Dina’s gone off to mingle so Shawn makes conversation with me whenever he can, sometimes even while he’s mixing.

At one point he asks me, “When are you gonna find yourself a “squeeze,’ (Y/N)?”

“I don’t know. I’m not actively searching for anything but I’m sending every offer away either. The thing is I’m not getting any offers.”

“You know it might help to actually go outside more,” he teases me. “That’s where all the people are.

“Don’t come for me, Mendes. I go out. Sometimes.”

He gives me a side eye while topping off another tray of shots. “Going to and from class doesn’t count.”

Some guy suddenly comes up and sits right next to me, despite the abundance of empty stools and single girls at the bar. “Hey, can I buy you a drink?”

“No thanks, I’m driving home tonight,” I say firmly.

He briefly touches my leg. “Come on, one drink won’t hurt.” I tense up.

“Dude, I told you I’m driving. I’m not having a drink.” I search down the line for Shawn. He’s busy with about three other people’s drinks at the moment but briefly makes eye contact.

“Well can I at least get your name?,” he asks. “I feel like I’ve seen you around campus.”

“(Y/N),” I say carefully, as if my name is made of glass.

“Wow, that’s beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he says with a toothy grin. He’s cute I guess, but he’s frat boy cute, and that’s suspicious. They have quite the reputation around here. “What are you doing after this?,” he asks, scooting closer.

He’s not even listening to me. “I just told you I’m driving. Home probably.” Something tells me not to include Dina in this conversation. I then remember to check for her. She’s in a booth, seemingly cozied up with what seems like a nice girl.

“What do I have to do to get you to come home with me?”

Before he can lay another weak-ass line on me, Shawn appears. “Hey man, can I get you anything?,” he asks, quite aggressively.

The guy immediately says no and fades away into the crowd. I turn to Shawn, eyes wide and mouth agape. He raises his eyebrows at me in response.

“Did you see that shit?,” I yell over the noise.

“I did. I was trying to get back over here. Do you want me to have him removed?”

“No, don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

Shawn purses his lips at me and leans in closer. “I know ‘fine’ is girls’ code word for ‘not fine,’ (Y/N).”

“I mean it this time. He’s not worth the trouble, honest.”

He checks his watch, “Well my break starts now. I think I’ll sit and talk with you. Maybe deflect some more creeps.”

Shawn makes his way around the bar, a tiny carton of peanuts in hand, and sits next to me. He smells great as usual. Like soap and high-end cologne. We somehow end up back on the topic of my love life again. This time I switch it up on him.

“You know you’re always telling me how I need a date. What about you?,” I ask.

“I’m busy here and at school,” he squeaks defensively. “I don’t have the time or social skills to get a girlfriend right now.”

“Maybe in theory. All I’m saying is it shouldn’t be that hard for someone who looks the way you look.”

“Ever think that it’s maybe because I already have my eye on someone?”

“Really?” He nods, but it’s a solemn one. “Why so sad? Have you talked to her?”

He slips another peanut past his lips. “Yeah, but she doesn’t feel that way towards me.” The way he tilts his head allows a few errant curls to fall into his eye.

“Who wouldn’t feel that way about you Shawn? Look at you!” He actually has the audacity to laugh while shaking his head. There’s no doubt he’s a dreamboat with his brains and impossible good looks. All the girls on campus fawn over him.

“By that logic, it makes no sense for you to be single either,” he shoots back. I try to think of something witty to say before he can see me blush but I can’t and just go back to shelling my peanut.

“Exactly! It takes a little more than being hot, doesn’t it?”

“Whatever, Mendes. You always say embarrassing things like that. Whoever this girl is, I say you should just go ahead and shoot your shot.”

“Yeah right. I think I’d rather be shot.” I choke on my peanut.

“I don’t get it. What do you have to lose?”

That familiar grin extends across his face, amused at my lack of understanding. He simply says, “Probably everything.”

Shawn’s break ends and he’s back behind the bar again. I continue to talk to him though after most of the people there reach their legal limit and he has to slow down consumption. We spend most of the night people-watching together.

Just as I thought, that girl Dina was previously curled up with ended up becoming her impromptu date for the night. She meets me at the bar again around 11:20 and introduces her to me. I swear at first glance they seem perfect for each other, unlike when she was with Tess.

“This is Cristina,” she says with a little slur on her speech. “Rhymes with Dina. She also did not consume the alcohols tonight, so she will be driving me home.”

“I was here on an assignment,” said a clearly not drunk Cristina. She held up a tiny sketchbook. “Had to draw a nightclub scenery.” She’s a very gorgeous girl, with a periwinkle colored pixie cut and big brown eyes. Definitely Dina’s type.

“Oh okay, well it’s nice to meet you Cristina,” I say with a shake of her hand. “I think you’ll like Dina. She’s just as charismatic when she’s sober.” I turn back to Dina. “Hey, look at me. Call me when you get home. Okay?” She holds two thumbs up in front of her goofy grin.

I walk them out and say goodnight, reminding Dina to call me for a second time and thanking Cristina again for driving her. I make my way back inside and across the now thinning dance floor and back over to the bar. Shawn’s polishing glasses when I meet his eyes with mine again.

“I think Dina’s taken care of for the night,” I say as I sit back down.

“I never saw that guy leave,” he says. His serious tone catches my attention. “Are you going to be okay getting home?”

“Um,” I look around the bar. Frat boy isn’t anywhere in sight. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Well listen, my shift is over in like ten minutes. Can you wait until then so I can walk you to your car?”

“Sure. Let me just freshen up real quick.”

I make beeline for the women’s restroom and find myself strangely on edge the moment I enter. Empty beer bottles and cans litter the countertop. I take a quick look at myself in the mirror, making a few adjustments to my hair. Then the stall behind me opens up. That guy from earlier steps out, clearly sloshed with the most disgusting smirk on his face. “Thought I’d find you in here sooner or later, beautiful.”

He gets close enough to grab my wrist, definitely bruising it and tries to kiss me. I instantly snatch one of the beer bottles left in here and smash it against the countertop, quickly making a weapon. He lets me go, leaving my wrist red and sore. I’m panting like a wild animal.

Shawn comes barreling in seconds later I assume because he heard the glass breaking. He looks more than stressed. “Are you okay?,” he huffs.

“Never been better,” I say, never taking my eyes off frat boy.

The worry in his eyes swiftly turns to rage when he recognizes the guy from earlier. “Dude, just fucking leave,” says Shawn. “Don’t bother coming back here either.”

The guy slinks past him and out the door. I drop the bottle, feeling my body start to shake all over. My hands grip onto the sink for, desperate for stability. Shawn rushes to my side and wraps his arms around me. I’ve never hugged him before but this better than I imagined it. “I’m definitely taking you home. There’s no way in hell.”

“S-sorry about the mess,” I stammer. My chest feels unbelievably tight and I have to push him back just to breathe. His hands never leave my skin.

“Don’t worry I can get it cleaned up tomorrow on my morning shift. Let’s just get back to the dorms.”

Shawn is quick to get me back to my dorm room. The whole car ride there is short and quiet. Never having been in Shawn’s jeep, I take this chance to learn a little more about him. It’s cluttered, but clean. I can see some clothes is the back seat and a few schoolbooks on the floor. As we get closer to my building I fish my key card out of my pocket. He parks as close as possible to the door and he’s about to open his door before he realizes I still haven’t moved yet.

“You okay?,” he asks. That’s when the tears start to fall and I have to turn away so he can’t see. Then one loud sniffle makes it very obvious that I’m crying.

Shawn reaches over the console, embracing me again. I feel stupid for crying on his white sweater like this. “It’s okay,” he mumbles into my hair. “I wish I’d caught him go in there. I should’ve been paying better attention.”

“No you’re always paying attention. It’s not your fault.” I pull away first, feeling more than embarrassed now. “I feel so stupid.”

“Don’t say that. You protected yourself. Rather impressively, might I add. We can go report him tonight if you want.”

“I don’t even know his name. No, I just want to go to sleep.” I open my door and step out. Shawn follows closely behind as I approach the dormitory entrance. We take a beat, standing out there in the cool evening air. I check the time on my phone and it’s almost curfew. My hands are still shaking. Shawn casts his 6′3″ shadow over me and takes my cold hands into his large warm ones. His thumb traces circles over the bruise that was now forming on my wrist. I slowly started to feel okay again. More than okay actually.

“S’okay, relax. You’re safe now. God, I just-- are you going to be okay staying here tonight? Maybe you should go home.” He knows that my roommates have all gone home this weekend.

“No. My mom will just have questions and I don’t want her to worry or storm the campus tomorrow.”

Shawn’s about to scan his keycard when I stop him again. “Actually, could you stay with me? Just for tonight.”

His eyes widen a little, “You sure?”

I swallow hard. “I feel like he might know where I live.”

We take the elevator up to my floor in comfortable silence. When we reach my room I get a text from Dina.

[ im in love gn ]

I smile and show Shawn. “At least one of us is having a good night,” I murmur then unlock my door.

I head directly towards my room, kicking my shoes off, slipping out of my jacket, and flopping face down on my bed. I hear the soft thud of Shawn’s boots stop at my doorway. “I guess I’ll take the couch. You wouldn’t happen to have an extra pillow would you?”

“No,” I say patting the space next to me. “Just come lay right here.”

He moves with reluctance and sits down like the the bed will crumble underneath him. Then he lays down with even more caution, scooting closer until our noses are a only few inches apart. His legs still hang off the bed.

I roll onto my side. “You still smell like peanuts,” I whisper.

“So do you,” he whispers back.

My eyes wander around Shawn’s face this being the first time I’ve actually seen him this close. He has the longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen on a boy before. That divot in his right cheek is more prominent in this proximity. I gently brush at it with my thumb.

“Shaving accident when I was little,” his mumbles.

“Of course.”

“Can I tell you something,” he blurts. I pull my hand away from his face. “You remember when I was telling you about that girl I liked?”

“You don’t have to tell me who she is.”

“I do if that girl is you.”

I wait for him to say “nah I’m kidding,” like he always does when he says something sarcastic or even remotely flirty. When he doesn’t, I prop myself up on my elbows. “Are you being serious right now?”

“A hundred percent, being serious right now.”

I’m honestly paralyzed. No one’s ever told me that before and meant it. My mind goes completely blank.

“Don’t just stare at me like that (Y/N),” he says, snapping me out of it. “You gotta say something.”

“What do I even say? I never came to terms with how I feel about you. I-- I gave up on that a long time ago.”

Shawn sits up so we’re at eye level again. Even while laying down, he’s still so much larger than me. I feel small in my own bed. His eyes catch a glint of the moonlight coming in through my window as they wander around my face only to settle on my mouth. “Okay, well, how do you feel right now?”

“Right now?” I allow his lips to steal my attention for a second. “Right now I feel like kissing you.”

“Are you waiting for an invitation?”

“Are you?”

He leans in, beckoning me to come closer. I meet him halfway, touching my nose to his. Shawn’s lips brush onto mine and it feels like an electric current is buzzing through my entire body, melting me from the inside out. I close my eyes just as his warm mouth gently presses into mine. Every inch of my skin heightens in sensitivity making me jump a little when Shawn puts his fingers on my neck. He’s slow and soft at first, but gradually gets hungrier as we go on, moving his hand to my waist to pull me closer until I’m practically on top of him. His thigh breaks the space between mine causing my hips to accidentally buck a little. The smile he makes against my lips lets me know he noticed.

It was like a movie, probably better, and I can feel myself slowly start to lose control. His tongue pushes past my lips and massages the threshold of my mouth tentatively. I dig my nails into the fabric of his shirt on his sides. This must do something to make him moan and that sound alone nearly pushes me over the edge. I pull away, hot and panicked. My arms are so numb I struggle to even sit up at first.

“A-are you okay,” Shawn asks. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, everything’s fine.” I cover my face. “I just felt a little out of control.”

Shawn inhales sharply and runs his hand through his hair then settles it on the back of his neck. “Should I go?”

“No! I mean no, I’m okay. Maybe we should stop this though, just for now.”

He bites his lip again but something feels different about watching him do it this time as opposed to the many other times I’ve seen him bite his lip. Maybe it’s how unkempt his hair looks now. I nibble at the inside of my cheek to bring myself back down to Earth.

“Well you asked me to keep you company for tonight. I still intend on doing that if you want me to.”

I do want him to stay, but not just for the original reasons anymore. We lay back down on my bed again, comfortably uncomfortable in this new atmosphere between us. The expression on his face is so tranquil. He looks younger in this light. I can feel blood rushing to my cheeks the longer I look at him. I switch my attention to my duvet. Shawn’s arms reach out to pull me into his chest, engulfing me in muscles and the scent of high-end cologne. I’ve never slept so soundly before.

[tarithenurse]

Undercover ch. 9

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader Contents: a tad of angst, maybe some cussing, mentions of past trauma and current injuries, finally a lot more fluff. A/N: This is the last chapter, because if I don’t restrain myself you’d end up with a book length fic. Thank you for reading. Thanks specifically for the feedback to those who have commented <3

9 - The last Chapter?

Something is itching the back of my hand, but my limbs are too heavy too move and lying in the plush, warm cocoon is the most comfortable I can remember being for half an eternity. I can’t recall how long. Stirring my sluggish memories, I catch fragments and glimpses out of order. It feels like I should know the combination in much the same way as a puzzle I know I’ve completed in the past, but don’t remember the image of and looking at the individual pieces gives too little information. To top it all off, each attempt makes my brain work slower. It makes me tired.

The itch on my hand is back. Maybe that’s what wakes me again or perhaps it’s the distant murmur of voices. Who’s talking? The female voice doesn’t belong to any of the girls, and the man…no, that’s not how the boss’s goons would talk to us. I have to fight my eyelids before they agree to stay up, allowing me to look around the room I’m in. White and blue linen covers the bedding which in turn is tugged neatly down on either side by the bed rails. I find my hands lying on top of the covers, and into the back of one of these slightly alien limbs is a dropline. Oh…that would explain. Fumbling, I try to get my hands to meet over my belly, but somehow, I’ve got my left arm stuck in some wires, and I feel the tug on my skin under the white hospital gown I’ve been dressed in. Grabbing the wires, I tug sharply the other way, and I’m mighty proud of myself as I feel them let go of whatever plug they’ve been in…but the pride evaporates the instant an incessant beeping fills the room. It’s not loud as such, just annoying enough that I try to block it out by clasping my palms to my ears.

A door, which I only now notice, is slammed open to grant entrance to a flock of people. There she is, leading the charge and with the red hair whipping around her face. Natasha. She’s got jeans and a tank top on with a sweater over that looks a million sizes too big, completely different from the monochrome suit she last was sporting, but even in casual clothes the agent’s still unable to hide that she’s ready to fight anything if she must.

“[Y/N]!” It’s a wonder to behold as the thin line of a mouth unfurls into a bright smile, making Natasha’s face radiate. “You’re awake…kept me waiting long enough, babe.”

The endearment awakens butterflies in my belly. She’s by the bedside now, ignoring the doctors and nurses who’re plugging the wires back in the machine and do all sorts of other things. I can’t be bothered to check what they’re busy with either, all I care about is her smile and the way she holds my hand as if I might take off running any minute. But where would I go? In fact…

“Where are we?” I grimace at the hoarseness of my voice.

Reaching out, Natasha brushes some hair out of my face. “Somewhere safe.”

Although it’s comforting to hear, it’s not very informative or even surprising. Anything involving this kind of medical care and this hero must be good. The entire place is, now that I begin to look around, impressively high-tech and too spacious to be part of any publicly accessible hospital, not to mention that the bit of the view through the windows is full of sky and the top of buildings trying to reach as high as the one we’re in. By the door that everybody came running through is the triangular shape of Captain America and a smaller, but well trained, guy with short, messy hair. He looks friendly enough, I try to convince myself half-heartedly.

“You remember Steve, right?” Natasha has been watching me as I take in the surroundings.

“Yeah.”

The Captain. The hero of old, an incorruptible good guy according to all the stories I’ve heard. For me, however, it’s hard to feel any trust at the sight of him because of what he is: a guy. So what if both of those men helped at the club? The sight of them makes me tense.

Next to me the perfect face brightens with a new smile as if she’d expected me not to recall anything. “The other guy’s Clint, he’s my best friend.” Leaning in to rest her forehead against mine, she whispers, “Why didn’t you say you got hurt? We would have gotten you out of there.”

“Didn’t realize, I think.” Her brows furrow against my skin. “I had to uhm…had to see the b-that Stein got what he deserved.”

Never before in my life had I shot anyone, and not only had I expected it to be harder to actually pull the trigger, I also don’t feel any of the guilt I thought I would have to deal with. Maybe it’ll come. Pushing the concern away, I refocus on my body, sensing a dull ache in my right side for the first time. Yanking the covers and the gown they’ve dressed me in aside reveals very little (except that the movements makes it hurt a bit more) because the area is covered by thick bandages.

“It’s time [Y/N] gets some rest.”

It’s a petite Asian doctor talking, and she might as well have cast a spell because my eyelids get too heavy to keep open and the voices seem to come from further and further away.

…

I’m not entirely awake at first, but the pain that burns through my right side as I try to turn does the trick. Swearing loudly doesn’t soothe the pain, but it feels good anyways and I add few extra for good measure.

“You were lucky,” the petite Asian doctor addresses me from the door, “out of all the things that could’ve happened, it only hit your liver.” She’s made it to the tower of screens and is studying my vitals or whatever it shows. “I’m Doctor Helen Cho, by the way. You might be able to go home in a week if you come back daily the first while and someone’s there to look after you.”

Home. The home I’ve had is not a place I want to go back to, and before that…no, that’s not an option. “That…might not be possible.” I really try not to sound pathetic. “I’ve got no one and nowhere.”

Nearly black eyes pierce me as I lie there in the hospital bed. “Miss Romanoff would be sad to hear that…” The tiniest of smiles is tugging at a corner of Doctor Cho’s mouth. “She didn’t leave your side until the day you woke up, and since then only under protests.”

…

At first, I don’t like not knowing where I am, but as time passes where people are treating me nicely and the doctors and nurses tend to the wound expertly…it changes. They acts like they want me to get better for my sake and not to make money off of me. Both Steve and Clint drop by a few times, and the initial mistrust starts to fade slightly as they tell about their lives as Avengers. I almost start to enjoy their company, but what truly keeps my spirit up is Natasha.

Doctor Cho’s right about Natasha who insists on staying at my bedside at any opportunity, sometimes she chats about anything on her or my mind and if not, then we just sit quietly together. It feels right to be close to her and the feeling’s bolstered when she introduces the habit of holding my hand and I discover myself recalling the kiss we shared at the club. Her lips had been soft and demanding, molding perfectly against mine...but each time the urge to recreate that sensation presents itself, I get too nervous. Why would anyone want me for who I am? It’s too foolish, too conceited, to dream that Natasha’s feelings could be at all similar to mine, that she’d want to hook up with me when she knows what life I’ve led.

…

We’re watching a movie one evening, when she pauses it and turns to look at me. Her grey eyes scrutinize the tiniest change in my mimic, making me nervous.

“[Y/N]. I can barely begin to imagine what sort of hell you’ve lived in and everything you’ve had to survive…” She bites her lip in a way that makes me wish it was my teeth…or lip. But still I look away because I don’t want to talk about my time as Stein’s property. “[Y/N]…” The slender hand cups my cheek, turning my head carefully, gently. “You don’t have to talk about it, but if I say or do something that upsets you because of it...please tell me.”

“Uh…’kay.” A heavy lump is cooling down my stomach and making it hard to breathe right.

Natasha repositions herself before continuing. “Normally, I’d just…do it, but I don’t wanna scare you so…is it alright if I kiss you?”

I don’t answer, I just go for it, crushing my lips against her mouth greedily and ignoring the pain in my side. Her reaction is tender, and she allows me to set the pace as the kiss deepens and my tongue runs over her lips in search of a gap to slip through. She tastes of sweet bubble gum and the coffee she’s been drinking earlier. As if on their own, my hands reach to hold this fabulous woman closer, but the movement makes me wince.

“Okay. Alright.” She coos, pushing me gently back onto the bed. “I don’t want you hurt, babe. You need to get well so you can get out of the med-bay.” And go where? “Well…about that…” It’s impossible to hide the blush when I realize I must have spoken out loud. “Would you want to live with me? Maybe find out if we can work things out together? I don’t like the idea of you alone somewhere and…and…well, it makes me happy to wake up and know I’ll see you the same day.”

The lump in my stomach had melted while we were exploring each other’s mouths, in its place are butterflies and a serene feeling of belonging and a happiness I can’t recall ever having felt.

“I’d love that, Tasha.”

…

[debu-neko-kun]

12XL: One Size Fits All

This was a commission for somebody on Discord. I was given the prompt “Guy grows huge from magic underwear” and, well, we have this! One of my favorite growth methods, I gotta say. Anyway, enjoy a slender Korean lad growing quite large. 

Kae yawned and stretched his slender arms, squinting against the bright sun as he awoke. Despite the rays on his pale, freckled skin, he shivered like an ice storm bore down on him and shuffled to the bathroom on zombie-like autopilot. The light above the sink flickered as he waited for the bathtub to fill, his tailbone pressing uncomfortably against the seat cover of the toilet. Just as well, he thought as he stared at the same thin, sunken features as always. Sharp, boring jaw lines, a sharp chin, piercing blue eyes. Narrow, cold, lacking… something. But what? As he sank into the warm water, he pondered this. What could possibly make him love himself? What push, nudge, poke in the right direction could he possibly find? He had a nice job, a decent apartment, time enough for himself. Sure, he didn’t exactly have an insane amount of friends… or any… and sure, his love life was lacking… severely… but what was stopping him from just going out and finding somebody? He had options! There was Steve in accounting… no, he was with Brad, right. Tom, in publishing? Zip, he was straight as an arrow. John? Forget it. Kae sank deeper into the steamy bath water, out of the stream of morning light. There was only really one man he wanted… “Don’t think about it.” he murmured to himself. Too late. James. The name curled around his mind tight as a noose, bringing a fresh red flush to his cheeks. He’d first laid eyes on the gentle creature nearly a month ago, after a particularly tiresome night at work. Muscles too weak to craft a meal from the fridge, he’d ordered out: a small pizza. When it arrived, he’d expected the same variety of highschool punk. Instead, he’d opened the door to find a cute, flustered, slightly-overweight cupid staring back at him. “Oh, uhm… hello there. Kae, publishing.” He’d smiled, offering his hand to the confused worker. “Uh, hey. Guess this is for you, Mr. Kae. Enjoy.” He responded softly, lips curling into a slight smile as he placed the pizza into his outstretched hand. “Yes… right, thank you. Goodbye.” And that was that. One awkward meeting on his doorstep and his heart was sent reeling, rolling into an abyss that bowled any thoughts of work for the next several days. Was this what a crush felt like? There was never any time for them before now, only flings, but something about James sparked a flame in his lonely heart. A few days later, hungry and bored, he skimmed through the advertisements on the community page, spotting the same pizza place he’d ordered from a few nights earlier. They weren’t far, and the food was good…   Before he could consider other options, Kae was already at the front counter, ordering a medium cheese from a 400 lb highschooler. He gave him a smile and waddled to the back while Kae found a seat, and that’s when he saw it: The kiss. James, pizza boy James, cupid James, “Would you like a coffee with me?” James, wrapped up in the arms of a man at least five times his weight, exchanging soft, passionate kisses beneath the neon light of the arcade games in the corner. The lights stained the memory pink, made his stomach flip just thinking about it. The way James grabbed his overflowing backfat, the way their chubby chins pushed and rubbed together, the way their massive thighs intertwined… Kae submerged his head beneath the lukewarm water in the present. Be happy for him, he thought. You were just too late. Too late and not his type. Just as he thought his eyes would explode from holding in hot tears, the buzzer sounded out at the door. Kae quickly surfaced and slipped out of the tub, wrapping himself in an absorbent blue bathrobe before rushing off to the door, just as the buzzer rang again. “Who is it?” he asked, holding down the call button. “Delivery!” sang a voice from below, high and excited. “Delivery? I didn’t order anything. You must have the wrong house-” “One package for a mister Kae Chi-gon, 8th floor, Room 255. Special delivery, I need a signature please!” Kae sighed and leaned his head against the buzzer panel. “Come on up. It’s unlocked.” He heard a boyish giggle before letting up on the button, moving to unlock the door. Before he could even slide the latch back, a tiny knock rapped at his door. “What the-” he started, quickly pulling the door open to reveal a short, wide-hipped boy in what appeared to be some sort postal uniform, only far more gothic. Kae’s eyes were immediately drawn to the black khaki shorts that snugged tight against his bottom, doing nothing to slim the basketball butt and thick hips, only serving to accentuate his unnaturally pale thighs that bulged against his striped knee-high socks. “Allow me to introduce myself, mortal man! My name is P.M. Crowe, with the Incubus Delivery Service. I couldn’t help but feel your heart breaking, and deemed it necessary to invoke my services to get it back to tip top shape!” Kae squinted at the boy as he stood in the doorway, hand on one hip, his other slender arm clutching a box decorated with gold foil. “Is this some kind of prank? Did somebody at the office send you?” he scoffed. “I don’t think it’s very funny, now if you’ll excuse me-” Kae moved to shut the door, but Crowe quickly grabbed the edge of the frame. “W-Wait, don’t shut me out yet!” he begged, his tiny demon wing hair clip clinking against the door. “I can give you anything you want!” “I don’t want anything you can give, now go away!” he grunted, pushing harder on the door. “James is single!” Kae suddenly stopped pushing, heart catching in his throat. “…What did you just say?” With a little grunt, Crowe slipped his way inside, walking around to face Kae who now leaned with his back to the door. He took a moment to dust off his varsity jacket and straighten the tie beneath before continuing. “James is single. His boyfriend of three months left him, and he’s been rather sad. Heartbroken, actually, like you… which is why I’m here. To bring you two together and patch up some hearts!” “Yeah, well, good luck with that. I’ve seen his type. They’re… heftier… and look at me.” Kae gestured, pulling back his robe to reveal his ribs. “Not exactly a perfect match.” “You know, it’s not about-” Crowe began, but stopped as his watch beeped. “Oh great, I’m already behind schedule! Come on, man; sign for the package, and I can give you something to help with everything. Promise!” Kae eyed him suspiciously, arms crossed across his slender chest. “…Fine. Got a pen?” Crowe lit up like a match and produced a golden pen from his pocket. “I promise you won’t regret it! It’s the code of every Incubus Delivery Service postal worker to fix, mend, and otherwise bring light back into the hearts of the sullen, whether it’s by bringing together true love or creating a new one! And I, P.M. Crowe, promise to-” “Done. Didn’t you have somewhere to be?” Kae huffed. “Oh, right! Here’s your box, and remember to always be true to yourself! Gotta go, be seeing you, Mr. Kae!” Crowe called out as he squeezed past Kae and ran out the door, which quickly closed by itself, leaving behind a comical puff of pink smoke.   Kae stood for a few moments, box under his arm, trying to process what just happened. Incubus? James? This is all too bizarre… could anything he said have really been true? Only one way to find out. Kae cautiously peeled the tape back, letting the cardboard flaps spring open. Too dark to see inside, he put his hand in and grabbed a clump of thick fabric, pulling it out to the light. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” he sighed, letting the box fall to the floor. In his hands, stretched out further than his body spanned, was a pair of white briefs big enough to wrap around a couch. The tag on the back was nothing but a dozen Xs and an L, a testament to their size, surely signing itself as nothing more than a gag gift. Flipping them around, he could see a massive heart print on the back, hanging loosely like a spent parachute. “That little…” he began, lips tightening in frustration. Suddenly, he stopped himself letting out a long, breezy exhale. “Don’t lose it, Kae. Just some… weird little punk from the pizza place, an elaborate prankster. Unless- no, no.” he shook his head, retreating to his bedroom with the garment still clutched to his fingers. He quickly set to work, laying out his clothing for the day: one pair of black socks, one pressed shirt, slacks… …and an empty underwear drawer. He cursed his luck and lack of laundry planning, spinning around to scan his pristine room for any stray undergarments that may have escaped (as unlikely as that may be.) He searched, moving around through other drawers and over the wardrobe before giving up, retreating back to the bed… and the oversized underwear. “I… guess If I fold it correctly, nobody will notice…” he murmured to himself, letting his robe slip to the floor. He put the underwear down and inserted one leg, then the other, feeling like a dainty cheerleader in a football locker room as he pulled the undies up to his waist and nearly to his chest. “Heh… looking good, Kae.” He chuckled, turning around to admire his cloth-cloaked backside in the full-sized mirror. He shook it a few times, giggling as it bounced back and forth gently. Wait… bounced? No part of his body had bounced a day in his life. He was, and always had been, for all intents and purposes, a stick. So why is he now staring at a pair of quickly thickening ass cheeks and a roll-covered back? Kae rapidly spun himself back around to face the mirror, the new additions to his body nearly dragging him over. His stomach sagged out, quickly filling up the empty space in the once-roomy waistband with blubber-packed belly. He slowly reached down in disbelief, gently prodding at the ever-expanding rolls with his dimpled fingers that quickly plumped into thick little sausages. “How is this happening?…” he breathed, moving his hands up to feel his cheeks thicken and swell against his rapidly disappearing neck, the space of which replaced by a blossoming second chin that seemed to get closer to his blobby man-breasts by the second. The underwear that seemed so impossibly large only a moment ago now began to tighten against his belly, the band squeezing between two overhanging lovehandles at his sides and hugging his lightly-sweating doughy buttcheeks like a pair of scanty panties. Kae was lost, lost in himself, in the moment, in the sensations. He should be panicking, he thought. Scream, call an ambulance! But… His arm fat dipped down like a pair of flabby bingo wings, patting against the massive dollop of sour cream that was his belly as he reached up to squeeze his breasts, pert pink nipples and luscious, creamy fat bulging between his bloated fingers. …it feels so good! His cheeks flushed rose red as he slid his hands back, into his waistband, squeezing his cellulite-laden butt fat in his palms. Warm, sweaty fat, at least 500 pounds of it and steadily growing, all him… gone was the sharp chin, replaced with a double that jiggled with a quick turn of his head (not that much of anything about him would be quick anymore.) Sunken ribs were swapped with an unending expanse of rolls and lovehandles that contained so much lardy flab, thin thighs with bags of fat that smooshed and sagged well past a defining line. He hugged himself, the growth jolting forward in one last jump of weight as if to reach out and hug him back, rewarding him with so much more warmth and total comfort. Just as the weight climb trickled to a rapid halt, a knock sounded at the door. “H-Huh?… Wait, that boy, Crowe!” he muttered, snapping back from his warm daze. “Coming!” he called, voice somewhat deeper than it had been before, taking a wobbly step out of the bedroom and into the hall, holding onto the frame for comfort. Every booming step was accompanied by a resounding creak from the floorboards and a jiggle from his near-naked body, butt swaying and belly patting against his thighs. By the time he reached the door, his flabby body had accumulated a slick shine of sweat, and his heavy chest heaved with exhausted breaths. This is going to take some getting used to… he thought, opening the door for his visitor. “Ten large pizzas for Kae-” James. The two stood, staring into eachother’s eyes, in complete shock. “Oh… my god… K-Kae? What happened to you? Are you okay?!” James blurted, rushing into the apartment, leaving the bag of pizzas in the hall. “Just… gained a little weight, is all.” he replied, putting his hands on his belly, the flabby pale flesh blushing pink like a christmas ham.   “B-But you were so thin! What happened?” “Well, I just decided to pack a bit on. Nothing else to it.” Kae shrugged, turning away. “It, um… it looks really cute on you.” James blushed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “You… really think so?” Kae looked back over his pudgy shoulder, whole body practically blushing. “Well, y-yeah… y-you want to, umm… well, do you want to get something to eat sometime?” James rushed, holding onto his hat like a life preserver. “Well, I do have ten pizzas now, don’t I? I could use a hand.” he purred, tugging on the sides of his waist band, the design pulling into a perfect heart between his huge cheeks. “…l-let me just call my boss.”

[witchymarvelspacecase]

Voiceless Pt 3

Summary: (Reader Insert) Reader is a mutant/inhuman with a powerful voice (works a little like a banshee / a little like a siren). She’s had it a little tough since discovering her powers. She is found and taken in by Tony Stark and the remaining Avengers after the events of Civil War

Word Count: 1573

Warnings: Typos (sorry), Swearing, angsty-ish, cliffhanger (cause I KNOW some of y’all don’t like ‘em)

A/N:A giant “Thank you” to @17sullivan who read my idea for this fic, then read this chapter and is an all around wonderful person. Thank you for the push love!

And a thanks, of course, to the fabulous @writingwithadinosaur, cause she is just the best human ever!

And to the anon who told me this was one of their fave things I’ve written, I had no idea anyone really cared about it, but since you mentioned it, here is an update :)

Voiceless Masterlist

“What do you mean missing?” you asked Vision when he re-entered the lab. You’d gone there looking for Tony, but Vision had been the only one in the room. He had also been looking for Tony, so the two of you split up to find him, but neither had succeeded.

You called his cell for what felt like the millionth time, still not getting through, as you went down to the garage to see if there were any of his cars missing, but they were all accounted for.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” you called out to the AI.

“Yes, Miss Y/L/N?” it responded.

“”Where and when was Mr. Stark last recorded in your system?”

“He was last recorded exiting onto the roof 3 and one half hours ago.”

“And you have no record of him re-entering the building?”

“No, Miss.”

“Did he have or call one of his suits?”

“No, Miss.”

“What the fuck then?! Did any aircraft approach the tower?”

“No aircraft, but I did register an anomaly. A presence of some kind,” this time Vision responded, having popped up behind you again.

“What kind of presence exactly? Do you have video?”

As it turned out, there was video, only a few seconds of it, and it didn’t answer many questions. Tony had been standing on the roof, then a black and purple blur appeared behind him, and an arm reached out and yanked him back through. The video cut out, and Tony didn’t reappear.

For the next 24 hours, you, Vision, and Rhodey had scoured surveillance footage, the roof, and all surrounding buildings for evidence, but the picture hadn’t gotten much clearer. The blur had been an a person teleporting, so it was an enhanced person who had taken him, but that didn’t narrow the search any. Rhodey had reached out to the government for help, but what was left of the Avengers was on thin ice with the governments of the world. So you didn’t expect much help there.

You’d reached out to Jane Foster, hoping she could help you better understand the blur, or maybe tell you how to reach Thor. She promised to help on the “blur” research, but she had no idea where the Asgardian was. You didn’t even consider calling Peter; he was just a kid, and neither you nor Tony wanted him mixed up in anything else if it could be avoided. Dr. Banner was still AWOL, and Tony had probably burned all his bridges with Natasha Romanoff. You were out of options and terrified.

Now you were sitting in Tony’s office, looking at the phone. Not his desk phone, no, you were looking at the outdated cellphone that Steve Rogers had sent to Tony when he’d arrived in Wakanda. The phone you’d hoped not to have to use.

Tony had explained the phone to you because you’d seen him holding it one day. The door to his office had been slightly open, so you hadn’t knocked, and when you’d entered, you’d seen Tony sitting at his desk, the cellphone in his hand. When you’d asked what on earth he was doing with such an ancient phone, he’d sighed. He closed his eyes and then turned to look at you. He looked sad, then he’d explained the fight between himself and Steve Rogers. How they’d misunderstood each other. How, when Tony found out that Sergeant Barnes had been the one who killed his parents, he had attacked both Barnes and Rogers.

“I didn’t give a shit what had happened to Barnes, all I cared about was that he’d killed my mom.” Tony paused, his eyes closed and body tense. “I knew, I KNEW, that Barnes and the Winter Soldier were two separate things, but I didn’t care. I mean fuck, you wanna talk about issues, I got ‘em all, or I thought I did. But Barnes, man he beats me. But I didn’t care; I screwed up so bad. And Cap disabled me, picked up Barnes, and left. I thought that was the end of it. For a while I held onto the anger. I do that ya know, hold on to anger, or refuse to acknowledge shit if it’s hard, or I did anyway. Therapist says that’s bad for me,” he rolled his eyes open and took a breath, leaning back in his chair.

“But then, a little while later, this package shows up. Had the phone and a letter in it.” Tony pulled open a drawer and pulled out the letter he’d mentioned and handed it to you.

“He forgave you,” you said after reading it.

“Yeah, he did,” Tony still sounded disbelieving, “I still don’t understand it. I was a shit friend; I disregarded him the whole time he was trying to tell me Barnes didn’t plant the bomb in Vienna, then when I pulled my head out of my ass and went to help him... Not to mention the fact that I left the rest of the team in the RAFT.” Tony put the phone down on the desk, leaned back in his chair and raked his hands through his hair.

You put the letter down next to the cellphone and went around the desk to Tony’s side, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“I know you think you’re not worth forgiving-”

“Cause I’m not. I’m not, Y/N. Look at all the shit I’ve done, huh? Wanda and Pietro? MY weapons were used to kill their family, then Pietro dies fighting ANOTHER one of my creations. How do I thank Wanda? I left her to sit in the RAFT with a collar on. A FUCKING COLLAR!” Tony shouts, dropping his hands from his hair to the arms of his chair forcefully. You stepped back, removing the hand from his shoulder.

“I fucked up with Pepper; let her think I didn’t care about her, let her get hurt. I fucked up with Rhodey, got him paralyzed. I AM unforgivable, Y/N. All I do is keep hurting people.”

You’d had enough. You pulled Tony’s chair from his desk and knelt in front of him, making sure he was looking at you.

“Look, Tony. Yes, you’ve made mistakes, a goddamn fuck-ton of them. People do that.” Tony looked about to interrupt you so you put a hand over his mouth and continued, “I’m not saying that the things you did weren’t wrong, or serious, they were. What I AM saying is this, you wanna be forgiven, wanna be worthy of forgiveness? Then learn from the mistakes you’ve made. You’re a genius, but sometimes you act like a dumbass. You’re going to therapy, great. How about taking the shit the therapist says seriously? You wanna stop hurting people? Start running ideas by people; if the idea could impact them, they need to have input before you just do things.” You pulled the hand away from his mouth and sat back on your heels.

“I’m not saying that you ARE unforgivable, ‘cause I don’t think you are, I don’t think ANYONE is. But if you feel like you are, I think you’re gonna keep acting the same way. I think you need to get your head on right, and accept that a flawed person can still be a good person, and then I think you’ll get better.”

Tony had looked so hopeful when you’d said that. Your eyes welled up and you clenched the phone that you didn’t remember picking up.

It was now 48 hours after Tony had disappeared. Rhodey was out of options, Vision couldn’t get anymore information from the video feeds, and Jane had no luck in finding Thor or figuring out the teleporting. The phone was the only life line left. You took a deep breath, leaned back in Tony’s desk chair, and dialed the preprogrammed number on the phone. It only rang twice.

“Tony?” came a voice from the other end of the call.

“Not exactly,” you answered, “It’s a long story, but Tony is missing and I… I didn’t know anyone else to call. It’s been two days…”

“Who are you then?”

“My name is Y/N. Tony took me in a few months ago.”

“Why’d he do that?”

“Well… again, it’s a long story.”

“Give me the short version then,” the voice prompted.

“I have powers, he found me using them, wanted to help me. I’ve been in the tower and compound ever since,” after a moment of silence you continued, “Look, I know you don’t trust me, I get that, but Tony’s gone. He disappeared right off the tower roof two days ago and I have run out of people to call and,” you cut off, choking on a sob that came out of nowhere. You hadn’t slept in two days, had barely eaten, and Tony was still gone.

You weren’t sure when it had happened, but Tony had wormed his way into your heart. He became the older brother you’d never had, and never knew that you’d been missing. Now that you’d had time with him, it hurt to have him gone. And you were scared for him.

A sigh reached your ears through the phone, “What information do you have?”

“Just video of him on the roof, a weird, dark purple, blur opened up and he got pulled through it by an arm. That’s all we’ve got.”

“Alright Y/N, here’s what I want you to do…”

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[ganggruon]

I had to write a scenario for a competition or else my Academic Team coach would fight me and I’m proud of it so here. I could only use 1500 words so if something’s underexplained that’s why :(

Sequenced

Imagen had fallen gravely ill. With the Measles virus, an afflicted child would usually recover within a few days. But Imagen’s illness wasn’t going away easily; he was one of the victims of antibiotic resistance. He wasn’t going to last much longer unless he had his neural pathways sequenced.

Neural-sequencing itself isn’t a particularly dangerous procedure -- It‘s quite safe, actually. Every child has it done at 13, in case something happens and they need to be uploaded, provide identification, etc.

However, young children just can’t handle it -- sharp needles and incessant beeping frighten them, and since Imagen was only four, there was no way he would sit still enough to be sequenced.  

But he was dying, so they buckled him up in his car seat, got into their hovercar, and drove him to the city’s hospital.

The doctors were concerned when they heard his parents’ suggestion. “Are you sure?” they asked. “He’s so young!”

They continued trying to convince his parents they were making a terrible mistake. If his neural pathways were sequenced, a memory path could be created that would allow his consciousness to be uploaded into an android body.   However, throughout his life, the memory map that contained Imagen’s essence would have to be upgraded.  However, individuals only received one upgrade: their optimum age and then perhaps an elderly version if the person wished to age alongside his or her loved ones.  Anyone Imagen’s age had to receive special permission from the Council of Asclepius.

“The more times an essence is uploaded, the greater the chance for degradation of the spirit,” the council wrote in their reply to the request. “And thus, we regretfully must decline the request to have your child Imagen Baron Akhlaghi neural-sequenced.”

His parents were grief-stricken. Their only child was going to die from a completely preventable disease. Those stupid vaccine scientists and their stupid mistakes.

Nehrisce, his mother, realized she was crying.

Stupid.

Reyn, his father, tried his best to comfort her.

“Hey, hey- it’s alright.  We’ll be fine. We… We can make this work. All of this will work, somehow.”

“But how, Reyn? We got turned down --  this is the end of the line, the end of his line,” she replied, running a hand through her curly brown hair. Reyn sighed, raising a hand and wiping the tears from Nehrisce’s face.

“I don’t know, but we will. I know it.”

“Okay.”

They both went their separate ways after that, Nehrisce somewhat comforted and Reyn concerned. They both knew that something had to be done. They couldn’t just let their son die; it wasn’t an option.  Their son would get an android body, no matter what it took. But how was this going to work? What if it didn’t? Nehrisce couldn’t handle losing Imagen: It would break her. Reyn went straight to work trying to figure something out, while Nehrisce put Imagen to bed.

As she did this, her mind ran wild. He couldn’t die -- he couldn’t! Not her sweet, beautiful little boy… She cared so much for him. Every time he talked, his little head bopping and legs swinging, she could feel her heart swell with joy. He was her son. She was a part of him. They had a connection that they could never have with anyone else: a mother-son bond. She couldn’t give that up.

Next thing she knew he was asleep, sighing out uneven breaths, and she was crying, her palm on his forehead. She sighed and ran a hand through his soft hair. She still had hope that he would pull through one of these days, but she also knew that it most likely wouldn’t happen.

He was doomed to die.

Too soon.

She lay her head on his chest, holding him close. She gave out a soft laugh -- This was backwards; shouldn’t he be the one with his head on her chest? He was the one suffering, after all.

“He’s suffering, and it’s simply not humane to try and prolong his life,” that’s what the doctors said, but that didn't mean it was right. They didn't know her son; they didn't know how full of life he was.

Meanwhile . . .

Reyn typed away on his computer. His son’s life depended on this. His wife’s too, to be honest. He wasn’t going to lie to himself.

He’d gone through every website in the galaxy, he thought. He continued his search.

neural sequencing

how does neural sequencing work

sequencing laws

council of asclepius

dark web

He hesitated for a moment. The Dark Web?  It had only been mentioned in scary stories from his childhood. He had heard the old myth that those who visited the Dark Web risked being kidnapped and put into a red room. Was it even a real thing?

He scrolled through the results. Multiple Wikipedia articles were found, and finally, he found it. The TOR browser: One that he could use to access the dark web.

Over the next few days, he continued his research.  Nehrisce had asked what he was doing multiple times, but he’d brushed her off. He’d hate to worry her more than she already was. He was already in too deep to go back now. He’d discovered so many things he hadn't ever known, met the weirdest (and scariest) people he’d ever met and, most importantly, finally found whom he needed. (And without being kidnapped and put into a red room, thankfully.)

The man’s name was Benito Montgomery, and he was a retired health professional, or at least, that's what he told Reyn. There was no real way to tell if his credentials were legitimate. All he knew was that his son was dying, and even if this didn't work, his son would die anyway.

****************

Nehrisce was becoming increasingly more stressed every day. Her son was on the brink, she knew. His coughs were becoming more and more common, rattling him to his very core, and visibly so. His rashes had spread to almost his entire body. It was sad to watch, but Nehrisce tried her best to keep him from scratching until he bled. His arms were covered entirely with bandages and gauze, and he currently had a rather large bandage over his left eye, where he had scratched around it so much that she was worried he’d poke his eye out. She held him in her arms as he picked at his knee, where a scab currently resided. She gently grabbed his hand and pulled it away.

“I know it itches, baby. I know. But you can't do it, remember? Remember what Dr. Nolan said?”

“No scratching,” he replied with a hoarse voice. The harsh coughs began again afterwards. His measles had developed into laryngitis sometime around the five-week mark of his sickness. It broke Nehrisce’s heart to see him like this. She just held him even closer, patting his back as he struggled to breathe through the harsh coughs. She stared blankly across the room, absorbed in thought. This was it… There really wasn’t any way he could make it through this, was there...?

However, Reyn had made contact with Benito, and he was coming from Italy.  The uploading procedure was going to be very expensive, but Imagen was worth everything to Nehrisce and Reyn. Normally, patients visited Dr. Montgomery, in Imagen’s case travel wouldn’t be possible.

Within days, Dr. Montgomery arrived.  A large man, he easily dragged his equipment with him.

“Thank you so, so much for coming, I was actually a bit afraid you wouldn't come but now you're here and I-”

“Thank you for your kind words, but I should really get to work on your son.”

“Right,” Reyn led him to the room Imagen was in. He was lying on his and Nehrisce's bed, a thin blanket covering him and multiple pillows around his head.

“Oh dear,” the man said, “Not doing that hot, I see.”

“Yeah…” Reyn replied.

“If you will, please unzip my bag?”

“Of course, yes!”

Reyn went to work, unzipping the suitcase and laying out the different equipment on the floor.

“Hand me my computer?”

Reyn did as he was told.

Benito went about closing different tabs, leaving only the one he’d been using to create a new cloud for Imagen open.  He attached several neural-transmitters to Imagen’s head and his parents watched as their son’s neural pathways assumed a shape in virtual space. Almost in rhythm with the image, Imagen’s breathing slowed until his small body lay silent.

For the next few weeks the digital body would develop, becoming more like Imagen while his physical body still lived in the real world. Every day she nurtured her son’s body, until one day, she noticed something.

His face had lost all its animation and his eyes barely moved. For a brief moment she almost regretted having him uploaded.

One day he stopped completely and she was overcome with grief. As she held her son’s lifeless body, heaving out heavy sobs, she looked over to the screen.

“Hi, mama!”