#fuck coffee world though that place put me on edge

[unmarkedhelicopter]

I’ve unfortunately picked up deputy Thornton’s repeated “shOW thE BItch WHo’s boSS” line as a new thing I just say all the time, it’s just such a funny thing to warble out in an exaggerated backcountry accent at random times. Yes, it’s driving my partner insane

[quarterlifekitty]

Read buttermilk today and now @ceilidho got me on that babysitter grindset… but what if I freaked it up a little.

cw: age gap (reader is around 21 and Soap is like 29ish), something sorta flirting with/on the edge of fauxcest due to a sibling-like bond, so I’m gonna tag it as such just in case.

Before Johnny enlisted, he’d only ever had one paying job.

Taking care of you.

About eight years your senior, your mom decided to go back to working when you were around 4 and he was on the cusp of 13. And for 5 years (an eternity to a kid like you) he was your best friend in the world. Would get out of school, walk to the elementary school to get you, bring you home, and hang out until whenever your parents got off of work.

And the boy was devoted. Didn’t mind that he had to put off hanging with his friends till the weekend. Didn’t mind making your snacks or watching silly kids movies. Didn’t mind when you asked him to play pretend veterinarian with you, and he had to lay down and act like a really sick horse. And you loved him.

The first time your parents took you on a vacation and you realized he wouldn’t be there? You were so mad. As mad as a 4 year old can be.

You’re embarrassed when you cry at the news that he’s enlisting— at age 10 you’re not supposed to cry anymore, you’re a big girl. He hugs you so tight, early in the morning before he has to go.

His folks move during his first tour. There isn’t an anchor to bring him back to you for a very long time. Over a decade, as it turns out.

He’s getting ready to go on leave when he gets a call— his mum buzzing with some kind of gossip as usual.

“You’ll never guess who I saw down at Sainsbury’s—“

Your university happens to be in the town his family moved to. He has his own place now of course, but he likes to keep close to them.

His first night back and his mum is beside herself— trying to get the place nice, because you’re joining them for dinner. Johnny never even considers that when you come to the door, you’re not the little girl he left tearing up on her parents porch.

He has to remember to close his mouth at the sight of you. His dad offers you a beer for fuck’s sake. He’s amazed at how much has changed— but also, how much is the same. The curve of your nose, and bubble of your laughter, the way your eyes widen with interest.

You happen to be on break right now. So of course, he ends up unwittingly spending all of his leave with you. You were always a funny kid— you’re a lot funnier now that you can swear. And you were always cute but now you’re so… pretty.

And he is not a fucking fan of the kind of attention it gets you. The way guys look at you when you’re sitting alone, waiting for him at a coffee shop. How your phone goes off at least once every 20 minutes, and it’s almost always ‘this guy from your class’. He tells himself that it’s just because he was responsible for you for so long— that he’s just having trouble shaking that off. He just remembers when you were so innocent— he doesn’t wanna see you get chewed up and spit out by college boys.

And he keeps finding himself falling into old patterns. Making you stay still so he can wipe your mouth after having a bit of a messy danish. Holding your hand tight when you’re in a busy place, crossing any streets. Having you tell him what you want so he can order things for you. Picking you up so he can hear you giggle and tell him to put you down.

He tells himself that when he touches himself later that it’s just because being away for work has left him touch starved and sensitive. It’s only natural to get turned on by a pretty girl who leans into him… especially when you get along so famously.

(Even though he remembers playing I spy while he held your hand and walked you home from school, your little backpack slung over his shoulder, even though he had his own to carry. )

Before he knows it, it’s his last night at home, ending it off with another of his mum’s dinners. At the table you casually mention the graduate schools you’re thinking of going to— some close by, some not. He almost chokes when you mention that there’s a really nice school in Canada you were considering.

That’s when he knows he’s fucked. Because he doesn’t think of that as you getting on with your life. Of a girl getting her education. He thinks of that as losing you, and after the bliss of the past couple of weeks he’s had with you, he’s not sure he’ll take being separated from you nearly as long as he did the last time. Not to mention all of the guys at your school trying to get their hands on you.

So he’s gonna have to find a way to get you too invested to travel far. And figure out how to protect you from those assholes when he’s not around.

Making you a part of his family and putting his ring on your finger should be enough, right?

[heich0e]

"Everybody hates me."

You pause after he says it, and then set your coffee cup down on the kitchen counter with a little clink! It's half-drained now, and mostly room temperature, but you're savouring the last few mouthfuls.

"Can you blame them?"

Sukuna looks up from his iPad where he's seated at the other side of the counter, his own empty coffee cup set off to the side, and he pouts. "Doesn't it bother you that the entire world hates your loving husband?"

You tip your head back and laugh, a wide smile on your face. The video Sukuna had been watching on his tablet is still playing so you stretch across the marble counter and tap the screen to pause it, lingering near him after the room goes silent.

He watches you curiously, but doesn't say anything, his expression softening.

"It doesn't bother me," you tell him quietly, craning up on your tiptoes to bridge that last little gap between you and press a soft kiss to his lips. He reciprocates in kind, dipping towards you so you don't have to stretch quite as far, making it easier for you the way he does most things: quiet and unspoken in his thoughtfulness, sweet like the coffee he makes you every morning that you like to savour.

When you finally pull away, Sukuna is watching you with that same inquisitive expression, like he's trying to figure you out without needing to ask.

"Besides, the more people who hate the guy you play on TV, the less competition I have for the affection of my loving husband," you use his own words in your wry explanation, smiling to yourself as your little jibe.

Sukuna clicks his tongue as he pushes himself up from his seat at the counter, coming around to your side in only a few steps. He uses his much larger frame to bully you into the corner where the countertop bends in an L shape, pinning you in place with one hand gripping the edge of the marble at either side of your waist. He peers down at you with a smug look on his face, and it makes you take pause—the expression a little too similar to the monster he plays on TV to put you at ease.

"Too bad for you, then," he says, dipping down to brush his nose against yours. He's so close you can only tell he's smiling because of the way his cheeks lift. "I said they hate me. Plenty of them still want to fuck me, though."

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 15

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

“Seems like you're declaring war on me,” Bucky said, his voice steady but his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Does it sound like that? Forgive me.” Steve set the golf club down, a smirk playing on his lips. “What I meant is, we have to be aware of everything. We're this close to winning.”

“I agree.” Bucky replied, his expression calm, though his mind churned with unspoken thoughts.

“This is why I trust you.” Steve clapped him on the shoulder. “Remember, we're playing in the highest league now.”

Steve paused before adding casually, “By the way, my son wants to visit Nate. Is that okay with you?”

“I'll let my wife and Nate know,” Bucky responded, his voice neutral, though he felt a flicker of unease.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

When Bucky got home, he saw you sitting cross-legged on the floor with Nate, working on a puzzle together. You both seemed relaxed, unaware of the weight he carried from the conversation with Steve. He walked over, his movements deliberate, and knelt beside Nate.

“Nate, buddy, can you go to your room for a bit? I need to talk to your aunt,” Bucky said gently, placing a hand on Nate’s shoulder.

Nate, always obedient, nodded. “Okay, Uncle Bucky,” he said before scooping up a few puzzle pieces and heading inside.

Once it was just the two of you, you glanced at Bucky and noticed his exhausted expression. He looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“What? Did something worse just hit you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Bucky took a breath, his jaw tightening. “Did you just involve Ian?” His tone was calm, but his eyes betrayed his frustration.

You widened your eyes, momentarily caught off guard by the question. That single look was enough for him to sigh deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I…” His hands clenched into fists momentarily. He wanted to be angry, knowing full well this would put you on Steve’s radar.

“Just… tell Ian to slow down,” Bucky muttered, clearly uneasy.

“I can’t,” you said softly but firmly. “The way Ian works is far more efficient than anything I could do.”

Bucky rubbed his temples, his frustration mounting. “Then I hope God protects him.”

“Bucky…” you stepped closer, your voice serious. “Be honest with me. Is he in danger?”

Bucky looked down, his hands braced on the counter, his shoulders tense. “Steve just gave me a warning. It won’t matter to him if there’s blood on his hands.”

Your heart dropped. ‘Fuck,’ you thought as panic began to bubble inside. You immediately grabbed your phone and dialed Ian, but there was no answer. Frustration and fear mingled in your chest as you quickly texted him instead: Be careful. Eyes and ears everywhere.

You glanced at Bucky, your stomach twisting. “By the way, the Rogers twins want to come here to play with Nate,” Bucky added as if it were a casual comment, though his voice carried an edge.

“You allowed that?” you asked, the disbelief evident in your tone.

The mention of the twins unsettled you. Your mind flashed back to watching The Shining in secret with Tim, and how the twins in that movie had always given you the creeps. That eerie feeling wasn’t just from the film anymore—it was rooted in real life. You had learned the truth: William and Charles, Steve's sons, had a reputation for bullying other students. The thought of them around Nate made your skin crawl.

Would they be a good influence on Nate? You highly doubted it.

Bucky gave a tired shrug. “I can’t say no to the future president, right?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, knowing there was little you could do to stop it. But one thing was clear—you would be keeping a very close eye on them when they came to visit.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The twins arrived at the house, their faces lit up with matching grins, excitement practically radiating off them. Nate, catching sight of them, bolted to the door, his small body bouncing with joy.

"William! Charles!" Nate called out, bouncing on his toes as he welcomed them in. His innocent joy was palpable—he was simply happy to have people he knew coming to play with him.

"Hey, buddy," William said, ruffling Nate’s hair as they walked inside.

After a brief exchange, they settled in front of the game console, and soon, the twins had chosen a violent shooter game. The screen flickered with gunfire and explosions, the sound effects jarring in the otherwise quiet room. Nate, seated between them, initially watched in awe but quickly became uncomfortable.

His tiny hands shot up to cover his eyes, and he flinched with every loud noise, his body tense as he pressed himself into the couch. He covered his ears, trying to block out the unsettling sounds, but he didn’t say a word, not wanting to ruin the moment.

You watched from a distance, trying not to be the nosy adult. You wanted to give them space, but seeing Nate’s frightened reaction twisted something in your gut. Likewise, you couldn’t stand by anymore. Walking over to the boys, you kept your tone polite, but firm.

“Guys,” you said, your voice cutting through the sounds of the game, “is there another game that’s not as scary? Look, Nate’s getting scared.”

William glanced down at Nate, who was huddled close to him. “Oh, why didn’t you say something, buddy?” he said, patting Nate’s shoulder as if that would fix everything.

Charles sighed and turned off the violent game, switching to something more child-friendly. "Here, we’ve got a game for you, Nate." He scrolled through the options and selected a bright, colorful one with cartoon rabbits running a restaurant.

The second the screen changed, Nate’s face lit up. “Wow!” he exclaimed, his fear dissolving as he leaned forward, eager to play. The teenage boys, now seemingly patient, guided him through the simple controls, explaining how to serve food to the cartoon animals. You felt a wave of relief. Maybe—just maybe—the twins weren’t as bad as you had feared.

Later, the boys decided to go swimming. You sat on a poolside chair, keeping a close eye on Nate. He was wearing a floatie around his small frame, happily splashing in the shallow end while William and Charles horsed around further away.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed. It was Ian. "H...ell...o"

You stood up, checking the signal, which was terrible. Frowning, you moved toward the balcony. The pool was indoors, so you stepped outside, hoping for better reception.

“I just got your text,” Ian said when the call finally connected. His voice was rough, but you could hear his smirk through the line. “You know this isn’t going to stop me.”

“I’m serious, Ian,” you replied, leaning against the balcony rail. “Bucky told me directly. You’re in danger.”

A pause, and then Ian’s voice, low and almost teasing, came through. “Hmm… Guess where I am right now?”

You sighed, trying to play along. “London? Since you went home, right?”

“Nope. Paris. And I’ve found something—something lethal enough to kill Steve,” Ian said, his tone dark with implication.

Paris? You froze. Was this related to Hazel? Your heart pounded with a new surge of anxiety. “Ian, don’t—”

But before you could finish, you heard it. A splash—loud, frantic. You turned around, the blood draining from your face. In the water, you saw a small hand desperately reaching out, the floatie floating uselessly nearby. It was Nate.

Panic gripped you like a vice. “Nate!” you screamed, dropping your phone as you sprinted back inside.

Without hesitation, you dove into the pool, your body hitting the cold water like a shock to your system. Your hands reached for him, pulling Nate’s tiny, trembling body to the surface. His arms latched around your neck in a vice grip, coughing and sputtering as you lifted him from the water.

He gasped, burying his face against your shoulder, his small body shaking as he clung to you. “He…he can’t swim!” you snapped at the twins, your voice filled with raw anger.

William and Charles stood there on the edge of the pool, unfazed. “That’s why we were teaching him,” they answered in unison, their tone almost dismissive.

Nate let out a pained cough, his voice weak. “My nose hurts…” he whimpered, rubbing his face against your neck.

Your heart ached at the sight of him, vulnerable and hurt. Anger surged through you like a tidal wave, and you glared at the twins. You remembered that they both just watched while Nate was drowning. Without raising your voice, you pointed to the door, your finger shaking with fury. “Get out. Now.”

The command echoed in the room, sharp and unforgiving. William and Charles flinched, startled by the intensity in your voice. Without a word, they quickly grabbed their things, shooting one last glance at each other before rushing out the door.

You stayed in the pool, holding Nate close, your teeth gritted in anger and your heart still pounding. You knew then—those boys were never going to be allowed near Nate again. Not after this.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The twins walked into the Roger household, their shoulders slumped, clearly sensing the storm waiting for them. Behind them, Peggy followed with a stern but composed expression. As they stepped further into the room, the tension was palpable—Steve stood there, arms crossed, his face hard as stone. He had heard everything from you, and his sons could feel his fury even before he said a word.

William and Charles instinctively moved closer to Peggy, seeking the safety of her presence as if she could shield them from the inevitable.

Peggy, sensing the mounting tension, stepped forward slightly, her voice calm but firm. “Steve, calm down. I will talk to them.”

Steve let out a frustrated sigh, his clenched jaw releasing only slightly. “I’m not going to yell,” he said through gritted teeth. “But I need to say something.”

He fixed his cold gaze on his sons. “Both of you will be homeschooled from now on.”

The twins’ faces fell in disbelief. “Dad, no!” William blurted, and Charles’ mouth hung open, too stunned to speak.

“I know,” Steve said, his voice quieter now, but there was no softness in it. “I know the main reason for your behavior is because your mother and I have been too busy for you. We never spent time together as a family.” His arms unfolded, and to their surprise, he pulled them into a hug. “So, homeschooling is the best option, isn’t it?” His tone sounded almost tender, but underneath it lay a cold warning.

William and Charles glanced at each other, then back at Peggy, silently pleading for her to intervene. But she didn’t. She stood still, her lips pressed tightly together, offering no rescue.

“Good children don’t question their parents,” Steve said, his voice dropping low. “You just say, ‘Yes, father.’”

The twins swallowed hard, a sinking feeling settling in their chests. “Yes, father,” they muttered in unison, their voices barely above a whisper. It felt as though their every move would now be monitored.

Steve’s lips curled into a smile, but it wasn’t warm—it was the smile of a man in control. “Good. Now, go back to your rooms.”

The boys moved quietly, retreating upstairs, the weight of Steve’s words heavy on their shoulders.

Once they were out of sight, Steve’s smile faded. He turned toward Peggy, his tone biting. “This is why I never wanted to send them to boarding school in the first place. They needed parental guidance, not strict school rules.”

Peggy’s eyes narrowed, a tired look crossing her face. “Don’t start again, Steve. That decision was made by my father.”

Steve’s expression darkened at the mention of her father. His voice dripped with bitterness. “Oh yeah, him. I almost forgot. I’m glad he’s dead.”

Peggy’s face tensed, a flare of anger sparking in her eyes. “When will you stop badmouthing my father?”

Steve’s cold stare met hers. “Never.”

Steve had lived a life bound by duty, his role in the military shaping every part of him. He was a good soldier—respected, disciplined, and obedient. But despite his loyalty, promotions came slowly. His lack of a powerful family background meant he was always overlooked by those with better connections. Essentially, Steve was an orphan—without anyone to vouch for him, he was left behind.

He knew how the system worked. If you didn’t have the right name, the right family, there was always a price to pay. And Steve had paid it, doing the dirty work of his superiors without question, sacrificing his principles just to keep his place. The worst part of it all was that his commanding officer, General Carter, was his father-in-law.

Every step of his career, Steve had been a puppet for the man who held both his professional and personal life in his hands. The weight of it bore down on him every day.

“Good soldiers don’t ask why,” General Carter always said this to him. “They just say, ‘Yes, sir.’”

"Yes, sir." Steve answer it like he's a robot.

At some point, Steve had everything he’d ever thought he wanted—marriage, a steady career, money, and status. On paper, he should have been happy. But he wasn’t. His life felt dull, empty, like the spark had been drained from it.

The day he realized the truth hit him like a punch in the gut. He wasn’t his own man—he was nothing more than a tool for his father-in-law, a puppet dancing to someone else’s tune.

That was the moment he had enough. The frustration, the years of silently obeying, simmered into anger. He wanted to be the one in control. He was tired of taking orders—he wanted to be the one giving them.

Steve’s life had been dull for years, a constant routine of military duties, politics, and the weight of expectations. Until the day he met Hazel. She was much younger than him—vibrant, full of life—and he was supposed to give her advice, to help steer her back home. Julius and Caroline had asked him to help their daughter stop running away. But when Steve sat with Hazel and listened to her story, something shifted. Her reasons for running, the pressures she felt—her life mirrored his own struggles. For the first time in years, he felt empathy.

He told her, quietly, “If you ever need someone to talk to, you can find me.”

And from there, things changed. They grew closer, and eventually, more intimate. He knew it was wrong—cheating on his family, betraying his friends—but for the first time, Steve felt alive again. The numbness of his life vanished in her presence, replaced by something that burned, something real. And then came Nate, the baby born out of that connection, out of a love he hadn’t felt in years.

Steve’s thoughts snapped back to the present. His jaw clenched tightly as he faced Peggy. “Did you tell them to hurt Nate?”

Peggy stood her ground, her face a mix of frustration and cold calculation. “No,” she said flatly. “But they’re smart enough to figure out why their father cares so much about that kid, and why he’s always…” She hesitated, her lips curling into a thin smile. “Spending time with his little girlfriend. Maybe they’re just releasing their anger.”

Steve’s fists tightened until his knuckles turned white. “When I get into the White House, you won’t be coming with me.”

Peggy’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t flinch. “And what then?” she said with a mocking tilt to her voice. “You think you’re going to put that girl in my place? Have you forgotten who you are? You were a beggar, crawling to my father for help.”

Steve’s eyes darkened, a dangerous calm settling over him. “And this beggar has crawled his way to victory,” he said slowly, his voice low but filled with menace. “You can act high and mighty because of me. Don’t forget that I can take it all away from you.” He stepped closer, his words laced with venom. “Remember how your family got their business permits? How they were saved from corruption charges and tax evasion? That was because of me.”

Peggy let out a scoff, her eyes filled with disdain. “You think you’re a king now?” She crossed her arms, shaking her head. “I actually pity her, you know. Because one day, she’ll feel exactly what I felt. You’ll never be satisfied, Steve. You’ll never have enough.”

She turned to leave, her hand on the door. Before stepping out, Peggy glanced back at him, her eyes filled with cold certainty. “Never.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

You sat beside Nate, your heart heavy as you watched his small chest rise and fall, his face flushed with fever. The doctor had just left, handing you a bottle of medicine. "Make sure he drinks this, and let him rest completely," he’d said before exchanging a few quiet words with Bucky and leaving the apartment.

Nate’s red, feverish face made your heart ache. He had been through so much in just a few hours. You gently wiped a damp cloth over his forehead as Bucky sat beside you, silent and tense.

"Never, ever let Nate be alone with them again," you said, your voice firm.

Bucky nodded, his expression serious. "I agree. And I’m sorry. I never thought they’d pull something like that."

“Don’t underestimate underage kids,” you warned, your voice sharp. “There are so many cases where perpetrators can’t be jailed because they’re underage.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened. "Noted. I won’t forget that."

A brief silence passed, then you asked, “Have you called Hazel?”

“I tried, but I couldn’t reach her. I called her assistant, though.”

You nodded, your mind still spinning. The memory of Nate sinking beneath the water haunted you, but there was something else gnawing at you—you hadn’t finished your conversation with Ian.

Excusing yourself, you left the room and grabbed your phone, your stomach dropping when you noticed the cracked screen from when you’d dropped it before diving into the pool.

You dialed Ian’s number, your fingers trembling as you pressed it to your ear. The first ring echoed, unanswered. Your heart pounded faster. The second ring—nothing. A cold sense of unease crept into your chest. Why wasn’t he answering?

On the third try, the ringing stopped abruptly, and you exhaled in relief. “Hello? Ian?” you asked quickly, your voice tight with worry.

There was a pause on the other end, then a voice you didn’t expect—familiar, but not Ian’s.

“Y/N?”

You froze, confusion flooding your mind. “Hazel? Why are you answering Ian’s phone?” Panic started to rise inside you, the pieces beginning to fall into place. Ian had gone to Paris. He had found something—something connected to Hazel and Steve.

“He… he can’t answer it,” Hazel whispered, her voice breaking.

Your breath caught in your throat, a chill racing down your spine. “Why?” The word came out in a shaky breath.

There was a long silence before Hazel finally spoke, her words hitting you like a sledgehammer.

“Because he’s dead.”

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[bulletswithribbons]

"Fucking hate journalists"

Kai Anderson X Fem!reader // NSFW

Warnings: Kai Anderson. You guess it. Very little plot, degrading, non-con/dob-con, mentions of murder, implied masochism, rough oral sex (m receiving), gun play, slut shaming, hair pulling, let me know if I missed any.

Summary: Kai breaks in your house to teach you your place after non-stop asking him back handed questions during the interview. Events eventually take a twisted turn, you were never that much of a good girl anyways.

Word count: 2.5k

a/n: This is my first ever fic, I've read plenty and wrote smut before so I'm pretty confident. But first time publishing so here we go.

Interviewing Kai right after his campaign was not the best call at all, especially the way you kept pressing him. You knew you shouldn’t have but this is war whether he knew it or not. You took a vow on yourself to make him expose himself on his own. You’ve always been suspicious about him but you had no proof of your accusations, and calling someone out based on your gut is not really professional, especially as a journalist. 

Even though someone had to confront him about his mistakes and fear mongering, your questions only made things worse, for you at least. You pushed too hard, making him feel small in front of the media. He could sense your suspicion with every question, and it's clear you put a big dent in his ego.

You were sitting on your desk, ticking your pen as a form of anti-stress. A bit of a mess actually, papers scattered, pens strewn about. Newspapers and magazines pile up, post-it notes plastered everywhere and a coffee cup long forgotten. Your desk lamp sits on the edge, casting a soft, warm glow in the room. You've always preferred gentle lights especially when working, it helps you think.

Your thoughts spiral around making your headache worse than it already is. How could you possibly put him down, once and for all..?

A bone-chilling breeze whispers over the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You enjoy it while it lasts, a refreshing breeze in this stifling hot night. It must have come from the window behind you, although you don't remember leaving it open... It doesn't matter. Nothing does as long as you still have work to do.

Your slender fingers reach for your white blouse, unbuttoning it. Once removed, you toss it aside, letting it fall to the floor, trying to cool your temperature down. You're digging through Kai's files, searching for a gap to use against him. It wasn't your job to do so. But as a journalist of course, you'd investigate and research to report the facts and keep people up with the facts.

Perhaps it's because you take what he says in the media personally. After all, a part of you is a feminist, a part you're not ready to let go of, at least for the sake of all the women who fought for their place in this world. You see through his manipulation tactics because you've seen them before. You know a narcissist when you see one.

"Fuck!" You shout as you throw the papers off your desk.

"Hm, come on now, how dare you throw these papers. We don't want little big mouth to lose her temper." He tsks, with an overly sweet tone dripping with sarcasm.

Shocked, you recognize the voice as you feel something hard poking you in the back of your head, trailing down to your neck, detaching your hair that was hardly holding up in the messy bun. Cold, metal. Sudden realisations hit all at once, but most importantly is the outsider in your house -your room- you pissed off earlier this day holding a gun to your head.

"Mr. Anderson, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. What the fuck are you doing in my house?!" you ask, your voice rising towards the end. You're trying your best to stay calm. One mistake, and you’re dead. Young lady in her 20s corpse’ found shot in her bedroom because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

“Mr. Anderson?”He repeats after you, chuckling. “They’re always respectful when fearful.” A sinful smirk tugs his lips, a look of pride in his dark cold eyes after hearing his last name coming from your trembling lips. “But I would have to politely decline your offer. I’m here to fix the mess of a situation you’ve just created for yourself. After all, I don’t want to lose voters over something so foolish. Especially this… close to the election.”

"Like hell I—or anyone with a brain that knows right from wrong—would vote for you!" You yell as you stand up from your seat.

His jaw clenches and nostrils flare, showing his annoyance. His grip on the gun tightening as he lifts the gun up to your temple, his finger twitching on the trigger. His voice, on the other hand, remains eerily sweet. “I really think you should keep your voice down.”

You swallow, your throat drier than ever. 

His voice lowers to a whisper, "I see you started learning. Good girl, I'm proud of fast learners." He takes a step towards you, his free hand stroking your chin and cheek, his touch alone giving you goosebumps. The gun rests on your temple, his eyes darting around the room.Then his focus shifts back to you. "Get on your knees," he orders and pulls his hand away from your face.

“I’m sorry?” You rush out, your eyes widening.

“Now,” he responds, his tone dripping with impatience as he jerks his gun to signal his order. “Expecting company?” He inquires looking down at your —bra only— chest.

You crouch down on your knees, his gun still pointing to your head. “No,” you respond short and clearly. For a minute, you believe you saw him smile slightly. A smile of pride.. 

“You’re such an obedient slut, aren’t you?” He pauses, “You defied me, made a fool of me in front of everyone. That doesn't go unnoticed.” He whispers, his voice pitch getting higher towards the end.

“So you’re going to shoot me? Because I hurt your little pathetic ‘man ego’? Because I’m small and vulnerable while you’re big and strong?” You retort, fake amusement hiding your fear.

“You’re smart. Most girls aren't smart. Well, that was the plan.” His smirk widens, his tone sounding even more sadistic as he slowly traces the gun barrel around your jawline— tracing it slowly with the tip of his gun. You notice him staring at your lips. “But now, seeing how big of a mouth you have, I’m going to show you what whores like you are made for.” He informs, his tone bled dry of emotion.

“The kitchen and carrying useless men’s babies. I Get it, trust.” You lash out. Although you know keeping your mouth shut is probably the better option, especially in this exact situation. But that never really happens, at least not most of the time.

Kai’s grip tightens on the gun as his rage begins to seep through his body. His other hand darts out to your face and before you even notice it, a slap lands with a sharp crack, sending a jolt of pain rippling through your cheek and leaving you on the floor. It stings, you can feel a red mark in its wake. Leaving you feeling shocked and humiliated.

You were lying down there on the floor, your body stretched out, limbs motionless. There was no sense of ease in your posture nor the room, rather a stillness that borders on tension. Even the air itself felt stifling.

Your eyes widen at the sight of his free hand darting to his zipper, pulling it down tooth by tooth. “You see, you just know how things work.” His tone becomes condescending, he pops the button and grip the waistband of his pants pulling it down until it’s enough to pull his dick out. “You have such a delicious looking mouth. I'm sure it has been put to good use for the benefit of passing by men. I'm guessing you've had a lot of fun.” He grabs the elastic of his boxers, lowering them down over his balls and pulling out his half hard cock.

You stare at him, your face frozen in shock. “You’re sick!” you shout.

“Am I now? You're the one who's been around so many men in your life. You should be used to it by now.” He grins, his hand holding his gun and moving it from your cheek to beneath your chin, pulling it up, so you were looking at him. “You should be grateful I'm bothering to even look at you.”

Although the men you’ve been with aren’t that many, you don’t bother to waste your time explaining. He believes what he wants to believe.

“Get back here,” he orders as he starts to pump his cock, the veins bulging beneath his grip. A bead of precum glistening from the tip.

You crawl back to him on all fours, doing as he says, and getting back on your knees, looking up at him. “Are you going to hurt me?” you ask.

He pauses for a moment before tilting his head with a small grin. “Isn’t that what you deserve? Do you want me to hurt you? Is that it? You like pain? Is that what you crave, y/n?” 

Fear… Regret.. Along with arousal.. Unwanted arousal specifically. You always knew you had a thing for troubled —twisted— men, but this is beyond fucked-up. Not to forget, he’s your worst enemy. He’s any woman’s worst enemy.  Feeling your pussy weeping in response to his tall figure towering over you is not really something to be proud of. The heat between your thighs only grew bigger every second and you knew you needed to get rid of the feeling.

He stops pumping his cock, his hand darts to your head caressing your hair with —almost— a soft touch.

“Suck,” he orders.

Your eyes widen, your tongue ready to curse at him, “I’m not going t-” 

“I won’t ask again, suck.” His hand darts up to your face squishing your cheeks painfully together. “You run your mouth a lot, might as well put it to good use. I’ll show you what exactly happens to smart mouths. Suck it like the slut you are.” His eyes burn with anger while he’s squeezing tight, his voice dripping with venom. The tip of his heavy warm cock caresses your soft lips, tempting you to bite it off.

He roughly lets go of your face, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head to the back to force your mouth open.

He forces the tip past your teeth, hatred spewing from your eyes.

“Wider,” he demands, but you want him to beg. Beg for it on his knees and switch the table, be the one with the gun ordering him around like a house pet. Getting back your dignity sounded good but not enough if you compare it with its consequence, having your life taken away from you.

You ignore his request. Making him reinforce his hold in your hair, pulling at it harder making your jaw drop so he can get deeper to your throat. The salty taste of precum evades your taste buds.

You loved the taste of him, your mouth watering with his cock inside it. But you couldn't admit it, of course you never would. It didn’t take too long for you to wrap your fingers around the base of his shaft.

Your head bobbing up and down. A breathy moan escaped him.

“Do enlighten me,” he breathes out, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Your tongue massaged the veins that swelled on his thick cock, flattened out on the thickest one underneath and flicked at the tip.

Ragged breaths escaped his mouth as you began to inch your way down, taking in more of him. The tip of his cock bumped against the back of your throat. Kai tightens his grip around your hair, and shoves your face down against his cock, making you gag around him, violently forcing you to deep throat his dick, making you gag. His length occupying your whole mouth down to your throat. You were practically choking, but he didn’t really care about it, he’s there for one reason and one reason only, teaching you to know your place.

“Fucking whore. You thought you were so smart with those non stop questions?” He pauses panting as he thrusts harder into your throat, the sound of you gagging and the wet thrusts echoing through the room. “Fucking hate journalists. Tell me… Who got the upper hand now?” 

You can't help but ignore him once again. It's not like you would give him what he wants and come undone beneath him, right? Of course you can’t answer him, after all you’re his number one hater. But even haters would give in when it’s the most mouthwatering cock a man can ever have. 

When you avoided answering, or maybe couldn’t answer since you were basically choking on his cock. His dick alone is enough to murder you if he wanted to. It only made him thrust faster, the asshole didn’t stop mouth fucking you even when he noticed your cheeks turning to a bright red and your eyes watering. Your cries turned him even more on. Kai forced his cock further into your throat, until your nose was pressed in the bush of his pubic hair.

Finally, you gave him a wobbly nod, motioning that he has the upper hand.

His head fell back to his shoulders, “That’s good to hear.. You’re learning, you’re such a good girl…Fuck…” 

You smile at the praise. Surprisingly, him being somewhat ‘sweet’ only made him ten times hotter. 

Tears keep running down your red cheeks, your cries echoing through the room.

“Just so you know, I’m enjoying this. Your whimpers are music to my ear.” He groans. “But god dammit don’t whine like a fucking bitch.” He spits at you and it lands on your cheek. Add it to the list of body fluids covering your face, along with the sweat gathering at your forehead and drool drenching your chin. 

You moan around his thick cock, sending him vibrations through his whole body. After all, you’re not putting on an act, you are enjoying it which is something you, yourself, are afraid of. But mostly you were focused on getting oxygen into your lungs. And maybe he is right, as always. Maybe there really is a part of you that enjoys the pain. That burning stinging sensation in the back of your throat. It’s scary because it’s true. 

His thrusts then began to lose their rhythm, but still managed to keep up with his pace. You knew what was coming for you. You shut your eyes, dramatically accepting your fate. Your jaw was already tired from him using you. His shaft was heated up, thrusting in and out of your red swollen lips. His hand gripped on your hair even more tightly holding you in place while his hold on the gun loosened. 

“My cock is a reward, tasting me is a blessing. Fucking thank me for letting you suck me off.” He says between breaths. 

No response, just a wet sticky cough. But afraid of his reaction, you choke out with a full mouth, “thank you.”

You could promise that you felt the disgusted face he did, “what a filthy bitch didn't your parents teach you not to talk with a full mouth?” He says while non-stop grunting like a wounded animal. That's probably what he is anyways... A wounded animal.

Few seconds later, ropes of cum spurt out from his dick into my throat, milking it after the abuse it went through when he was hammering into my mouth. He pulls out from your mouth and tug his dick back into his boxers then his pull his pants back up.

“Swallow,” he orders. “Fucking swallow my cum.” Kai grabs your face and presses his fingers into your cheek flesh.

Desperately, all you wanted to do was spit it at him, right in his face, but you don’t. You actually swallow like the obedient little slut he said you are. His seed slides down your throat, alongside your dignity and maybe your hatred towards him. 

Your fingers reach to your face drying up the tears that ran down your cheeks and the saliva running down your chin along with lines of cum. Looking up to him, you see him breathing heavily. His body working hard to get the oxygen he needs from how hard you sucked him off.

He looks at you up and down, judging you, it can't be anything good.

You expected him to do something, whether beat you up, shoot you, the least of it is spit at you telling you how much of a filthy whore you are.

But he didn't, and you were grateful for that... For him..

The taste of him still lingers at the tip of your tongue. You lick your lips unintentionally and in the most discrete way possible. Last thing you want is having him know you liked it and boost his ego, not that it could possibly needed any more promotions. But he already knows, you're sure of it. The way you sucked the life out of him like it was the best thing you laid your lips on, you can't hide that from anyone.

He turns and walks to the door, completely silent. What could he be possibly thinking about...?

He pauses at the door, turning his head to see you, he’s sweaty.

“If I see you run your mouth about any of my work, newt time will be much worse.” He promises, which you thought was kind of cute.. Promises… 

Zipping up his fly, and slipping his gun in his pants, he finally turns away and leaves, slamming the door behind him.

[1toreyouapart]

Right Through Me

***FANFICTION THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE. DON’T READ IF YOU DON’T LIKE THAT. 18+ MDNI***

Rae arrives on her former best friend’s doorstep, asking only for a place to stay while she gets back on her feet after moving across the country to escape her ex. Nick gladly opens his door to her, quickly pulling her into the fold with his friends and band mates.

Noah is just trying to survive. He wants to make it. Needs it. He has no time for anything other than the band. He’s got a point to prove. Nick’s friend challenges that and upends his entire world. She drives him crazy with her laid back, carefree ways.

Everyone can see the collision coming from a mile away, and nobody can stop it. Much less the two of them. Who will make it out in the end?

CW/TW: domestic violence, miscarriage, alcohol use, swearing, smoking, tobacco/vape use, smut, more to come as story is written.

Coffee

Bright light woke her. Blinding her. With a frustrated groan she covered her eyes with her arm. She shouldn’t have come to stay on Folio’s couch. Too much sunlight. There has to be a way to block the sunlight. Had to be.

The scent of coffee wafted towards her. Grateful she sat up, rubbing her eyes. At least Folio was awake and getting everything set.

“Nick?” She questioned, sitting up.

This was a foreign living room. Everything was weird. Had she just not noticed the layout when laying on Folio’s couch the day before? Unlikely for her. She was used to mapping everywhere out.

“Fresh coffee. I don’t know how you like it, but I have 100 ways of fixing your coffee right here.”

“Thank you. Black is fine.” She muttered, swinging her legs over the edge of the couch. Why the fuck was she here?

“Offered you my bed and I would take the couch and you tried to punch me for it.” Noah laughed, the sound of liquid filling a cup distracting her momentarily.

“I’m sorry? I don’t remember that.” Rae groaned, dropping her head into her hands.

“It was cute. You got upset because I took your keys. That idiot over there,” he gestured towards Folio passed out in the recliner. “Was already passed out. You kept saying you wanted to go home. You could barely stand. Offered my bed for you to sleep in. You wouldn’t have it. Told me I was controlling you. Then curled up on the couch and fell asleep.”

Noah placed the cup in front of her, sitting beside her. He sat in silence while she stared at the cup of coffee in front of her. Had she really drank that much?

“Anyway. I put that pillow there under your head and covered you with a blanket.”

Noah seemed nervous as he spoke. Fidgeting with his own mug. Rae picked up the cup he had set on the coffee table, taking a long sip of it. She had no recollection of any of it. The last thing she remembered was dancing on Noah before Nick had pulled her away and told her to keep it in her pants.

“I’m sorry if I was…” she paused, contemplating her words. “Too forward? I suppose.”

“No. That’s fine. Nick said you’ve been through a lot. Like, an insane amount of shit. Uh…” he trailed off, rubbing his hand over his face. “You have a great voice and I would love to get you in the studio with me soon.”

Rae sipped her coffee, eying her still sleeping best friend. Nothing bad could happen if he was at least in the room. Though everything in her screamed at her that Noah was a safe person, she found herself physically moving away from him.

“Look.” His eyes were still transfixed on the mug of coffee in front of him. “I don’t know why you’re here. Though I can guess based on the little bit Folio has told us. And you’re in a sling. I’m not stupid. Just don’t disappear on him again, okay? Don’t go back to that asshole and leave Folio broken because his sister is gone. Again.”

Rae clenched her mug tightly in her fist. She knew he meant well. But was right now really an appropriate time for it? Frustrated she took a sip of her coffee, letting the warmth of the bitter liquid sit in her mouth a moment before swallowing. Exactly how much had Folio told him?

“Listen. I’m sure you mean well, but I don’t need some guy telling me how to live my life. I drove clear across the country to get away from the last person who thought they could do that.”

She searched her pockets, digging out her vape. Maybe she was being harsh. But, goddamn it, the last thing she needed was any kind of a lecture from some guy who apparently thought he knew what was best for her.

“Not what I’m trying to do, Rae.” He sighed, standing up. “Come on. Let’s go out back.”

She hesitated, watching him walk away. He didn’t bother to look back at her, assuming she would follow. And as much as she didn’t want to, the need for nicotine outweighed everything. Slowly, and with a cautious glance back at the very much still asleep Folio, she followed him out to the backyard.

Outside she found him kicked back in a chair, phone in hand, typing away. He nodded to the chair next to him, indicating for her to sit. Rather than obey him she stood there, taking a puff of her vape. She took the moment to study him. The way his brow furrowed ever so slightly as he typed. The messy bun he had thrown his hair up in. Honestly, it looked more put together than any of her own messy buns. That irked her. How was it fair his looked better?

“Anyway,” he continued, placing his phone on the table in front of him. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I care about the guy, ya know?”

Rae smirked, finally dropping down into the chair next to him. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. She took another puff off of her vape, making sure to blow it out away from him. A sip of coffee. She could feel his eyes on her, feel the judgement radiating off of him.

“Like I said, Noah. I drove nearly 3,000 miles to get away from him. Which is a pain the ass when you’re down to one working arm.” She laughed, though it was hollow. “Not keen on doing that again any time soon.”

“So you’ll be around a while then?” He sounded almost hopeful.

“Yep. That’s the plan.”

“So then you’ll need a job.”

“Hold up. I am not a fucking charity case. I don’t need your help. Whatever it is you’re thinking in that pretty little head of yours? Stop it.”

“So you think I’m pretty?” Noah laughed, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.

Rae watched as he pulled one out, put it between his lips, and lit it. She was slightly shocked. Not once last night had he gone out to smoke. At least not that she had noticed. She had never even smelled it on him.

“That’s the thing you focus on?” Rae shook her head, reaching for her coffee.

“I mean, a compliment is a compliment.” He shrugged. “But, no. You’re not a charity case. I was just thinking, we’re headed on a small tour soon. Just a month long. Could use someone to sling merch.”

Rae arched a brow, turning to face him. She had just told him she didn’t want his charity, yet he ignored it and offered her his charity anyway. He was bold, she would give him that.

“Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll take it.” He smirked at her before turning back to his phone. Jesus he was on that thing a lot.

Tag: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

[teddypickerry]

hii bb!! love ur stories sm

do u think u could do a angst jess mariano imagine where the reader is in a relationship with someone else and jess get really upset and jealous and ends up confessing his love to the reader x.🤍

𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐄 !

pairings! — jess mariano x fem reader

warnings! — cheating (kind of), cursing (…LMFAO), lowk jess being a fluffy bitch so watch out

a/n! — this is kinda out of character for jess imo??? BUTTTT I LOVED WRITING IT. i love this idea + jess just being a fucking lovebot. i want to kiss his face (if you can’t tell from the picture)

THE TEENAGE BOY sat on the steps of the Stars Hollow gazebo, his eyes locked on his best friend laughing with another guy across the town square. They were both drinking coffee and seemed lost in their own world, completely oblivious to Jess's presence. He'd known you'd been seeing a guy for a few weeks now. But anytime he'd ask about him, you would change the subject. Jess was doubting himself at this point. Why would his best friend lie about her very own boyfriend to him?

It was a few days later that Jess was finally blessed with his presence — Daniel was his name, a pretty boring name for the burnout that he was. He wasn't anything special to Jess. Just a tall guy with greasy hair and a shitty sense of humor. To you, he was a good time. Something that most of the Stars Hollow residents lacked.

Friday afternoon marked four weeks since Daniel first locked eyes on you, vowing to his friends that he was gonna win you over. He wrote his number on a cigarette that he offered you which was quite the distinctive ask out. Ever since the boy had entered your life the other boy in your life, your best friend (the asshole + idiot) Jess Mariano, had been a bit slaggish. It wasn't that he was rude to you outright but he seemed uninterested and... different.

You finished your afternoon of homework by replacing your jeans with a pair of comfortable shorts, awaiting a much needed night in. A knock on the door kickstarted your heart a bit, not expecting anyone until later (the takeout guy and your friend Rory, who are not the same person). When you opened the door, revealing an intense Jess. He didn't say a word as he sunk into his jean jacket in the cold weather. You stepped aside to let him in, the worried look on his face enough to suffice as an excuse to let him in. Despite his asshole attitude the past few weeks. "What's going on?" Your voice was hesitant, unsure of the possibilities of Jess's ulterior mood.

"It's... it's Daniel. I don't fucking trust him," he muttered like it was nothing making you sigh. "I can't explain why, I just... I dunno. He looks at you like a freak and I don't think he's good for you." He admitted straightforward whole fumbling with his pockets. It was a rare sight to see Jess anything less than... how do I put this lightly? A cynical, judgmental, cocky bastard. 

So this was a sight to see. He was confident in his words but an internal conflict was dragging him down revealing an inner mood. "What are you.." Your voice trailed off in pure confusion. Reminiscent on the idea that this is why Jess has been so on edge lately. "Where are you even getting this from?" A stern look took over your face.

"Listen to me, Y/N. Something's off about this guy. Everyone can see it." Jess snapped before he sighed and attempted to calm himself down. He didn't want to get angry at you, that was the last resort actually. "What if we just followed him? Just for one day? We would find something-"

"What the hell? No!" You interjected in genuine question if your best friend had gone mad. "Can you stop accusing him of being a dick? Does this get you off?"

The two had gone silent as they both swallowed your words. There was a hint of regret on your behalf even though Jess was showing signs of insanity. He stepped forward, his hand placing a gentle hold on your arm. He was desperate and it showed. "I'm telling you, something's wrong with that guy. I can't tell you why... or how, I just feel it. Believe me, please. For me?"

You contemplated his words for a moment before looking him in the eye directly. Now or never. "Is it that or something else?" You hushed, a hasty breath releasing. "What do you..." His voice was soft, which you'd never experienced from Jess. He tried to sound curious and failed miserably when he took a deep breath.

Another silence fell over the two when she tried to decipher what he was thinking. She had no idea which route to take. "Are you upset that we don't see each-other anymore? I know I've been distant lately but you can't just put the blame on Danny, Jess."

Safe route.

His hand ran down her forearm to play with her fingers unintentionally. Jess was silent which showcased his answer. You were right and he didn't want to admit how much that affected him, or how much that was apart of the problem. He also half expected you to say something else but realized how idiotic that thought was. "It's true... but only because I care about you. I don't want you to get hurt or whatever... you know?" Once again, safe route. Or as I would say... bullshit.

"Are you sure about that?" Your voice came just below a whisper hardly enough for either of you to hear. His face seemed to harden at the accusation he wanted you to believe him. "Can't you just believe the 'I miss you' lame thing?" He attempted to joke with a straight face. You didn't budge and let out a soft breath before glancing away. "What do you want me to tell you, Y/N?" Jess's voice raised into a heavier tone seemingly upset with his best friend's lack of belief.

"That you love me," you uttered even shocking yourself. Jess quite literally couldn't believe his ears. He didn't waste anytime to do the thing he couldn't stop thinking about anytime he saw you. Jess stepped forward with your faces nearly touching. "I do love you."

Now was your opportunity to not waste any time. You leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. A sudden surprise for Jess, which he obviously appreciated. The short but passionate kiss was ended with a soft breath, only for him make an attempt to take the lead. He took a deep breath and pulled you back into him. A deeper and more intense kiss coming over the both of you. You were soft and sweet in his arms that were now tangling around you. Due to dire need of oxygen (sadly) your lips were pulled apart. The elephant in the room needed to be addressed and no I'm not talking about your dad's elephant hat. "What are you gonna tell the asshole?"

"Jess," You warned teasingly being brought out of your trance. "That I'm the asshole. I shouldn't have stringed him along like this. I know we weren't exclusive or anything but... I feel really bad. Because I've been in love with my best friend for a long fucking time."

Jess had to bite down on his lip to stop himself from kissing you again. A new addiction of his has occurred and they were called your lips. This conversation was heavy on your heart, you needed his advice rather than his spit. "How do you think he'll react?"

"Well how would you react?" You scoffed before pressing your head against the wall. "He'll take it out on me, not you. I'm sure." This was the time Jess realized this situation would have consequences to be dealt with. Something he was never too fond of. He liked living life his way, not with a barrier. The thought of Daniel being pissed at you made him want to knock him out, which to be fair is something he's wanted to do for a long time. Jess pressed his lips to your cheek softly, in an attempt of comfort. A sweeter Jess was something you'd never seen. But you weren't arguing.

"I'll talk to him if you want... I promise to call him Daniel and not Dickwad." Jess teased with his nose pressed to the side of your face. You giggled before turning towards him. "That might not be the best idea since I just spent my evening confessing my love to you."

"Fair enough." Now was his turn to laugh shining his crooked grin you were so fond of. "I'll wait outside with a crowbar for him and a kiss for you." Jess's joke made you playfully roll his eyes before leaning in for a soft kiss. You wanted to take in as much as this moment as possible. It was still unbelievable. "I'm yours, I'll be there for whatever you need. Like your own personal Bosley?"

"Does that make me your angel?" You teased while he replied with his lips touching yours for the seventh millionth time that evening. But you knew you'd never get sick of this feeling. Neither of you could bare to hold back as you fell deeper into the kiss. When you finally pulled apart he was full of energy and adrenaline. He could run a marathon screaming about how he was kissing the girl he loved loudly. He wanted to know how you felt about him too. "Tell me I'm the only one for you," He whispered intensely. Jess's look was pure fire as he intensely looked into your eyes.

"I love you, Jess Mariano. Only you."

"Good. Now let's watch Detroit Rock City."

"Hey!"

[ladytauria]

trick or treat?

okay so you know the other day when i was gushing in the tags of ur jaytim collar post?

well.

i was digging around in my wip folder (bc i forget whats in there sometimes. many times.) and i found this, whose original inspiration i forget:

(edit: the beginning didn’t copy with the rest of it oops)

Jason knows Tim likes marking him up. It’s hard to miss, with the amount of mouth-shaped bruises he finds on his body the day after Tim fucks him. And it’s not like he minds. The opposite, really: it’s nice, to be claimed so obviously.

The thing is, bruises fade.

There’s one on his neck right now; an almost-invisible yellow-green. Tim’s finger presses into it, though there’s almost no pleasure-pain left for it to give. The weight of his palm on Jason’s neck, his head on Tim’s lap, almost makes up for it. Makes his brain buzz pleasantly around the edges, narrowing his world to the two of them, on Tim’s over-large couch.

He can almost forget he has to tell him he’s leaving. Roy has a job for them, and then they’re meeting up with Kori to go cause trouble in space for a bit. He’s going to be gone for at least a couple of months. When he does finally spill—

Tim will leave more bruises. They’ll be gone entirely too soon.

That’s probably what prompts him to say—

“You’re so possessive, I’m surprised you haven’t just collared me and called it done.”

Tim’s hand tightens around his neck. Not enough to restrict his airway, but enough he has trouble swallowing. He looks away from the laptop he’d been working at, case momentarily abandoned.

“You’d wear it?” His tone is mild. Idle. He sounds almost bored. It’s the eyes that give him away; dark and fathomless in a way that has Jason’s stomach clenching.

Jason swallows. Feels the weight of Tim’s palm. “Yeah.” His voice is cracked, throat suddenly Saharan dry. “I’d—I’d never take it off.”

Not tangible, visible proof that someone wanted him.

Tim’s voice lowers to a whisper when he says, “Never?” The mild tone is gone, now; replaced with something Jason doesn’t recognize. It lights him up, anyway; igniting something desperate in him. He plants his feet on a couch cushion. One hand falls to grip Tim’s pant leg; the other wraps around his wrist. Not to pull him away, but to keep him. Hold his hand in place, because Tim’s fingers on his neck feels like all that’s holding him together.

“Never,” he swears, no matter how bad of an idea it is. Red Hood doesn’t need to be caught wearing a collar.

Jason doesn’t care.

Tim hums, low in his chest. He looks away from Jason, leaving him feeling bereft. He whimpers, but the sound barely passes his lips before he hears the ‘click’ of Tim shutting his laptop. He leans over Jason, stomach brushing his face as he leans forward to put it on the coffee table, case abandoned.

Then he’s looking at Jason again, thumb stroking the side of his neck. “I bought you a collar ages ago,” he says. “I didn’t think you’d wear it. Thought you’d—you’d hate it.”

Jason had certainly said things to that effect in the past, he knows. He squeezes Tim’s wrist. “I don’t. I want it. I want it so bad—please, Tim.” He’s willing to beg on his knees, if Tim wants him to.

“It’s yours,” Tim promises, low and sweet. “And you’re mine.”

[five-hargreeves-marvel-fan-25]

New Timelines New Life (Same family in Choas)

Chapter Two

“Ah Sloane?” Ben called from The main room. 

“What wrong Ben?” Sloane asked. She turned to the TV and watched the reporter talk about the massacre of a gang. 

“20 men dead. I only know one person who could cause that much blood,” Ben said, “I know a certain brother who was an ex assassin with blinking power that made killing crazy efficient,”

“Do you think he has his powers?” Sloane asked. 

“Don’t know. But I don’t think you could just no have them. Even when I was dead I had my powers,” Ben says.

“I asked because I tried floating - my power. And I couldn’t. It’s strange,”

“Come to think of it. I can’t feel the horror,” Ben agreed.

“So your siblings are in the world with out their powers,”

“Well at least we don’t have to worry about one of them ending the world,”

“Yeah. We should go searching for them. If we find one we should find the others,” 

“You know who to find. I know who to find,”

“When you find the people, have them come here.”

The walked out and Ben sees the Academy has a sign. Though like the rest of the building the sign looked broken and worn down.

Umbrella Street’s home for Wayward Children. 

-o0o-

Five walked into the “office” and he could tell that everyone was on edge. The minute before he had heard laughing at a joke someone had said. Five were used to this. He didn’t give a fuck. Right before he was about to sit at his desk, Ms. Handler was standing right there.

“Five”

“Ms. Handler,”

“Great job on your work last night,”

“Thank you,”

“You should take the day off,”

He looked at her “exsuse me”

“You deserve a break. Five of you are top worker. I also granted that rise you put in for,” 

”Thank you,”

“Tell your sweet girl friend Delores I said hello,”

“I don’t mix my personal life and work together,”

“But Delores does know why you do for a living right?”

“Of course,” Five said, rolling her eyes. 

Five ended up going to the bar two buildings away from the job the night before. Mostly because they didn’t card at the door. Five sat up at the bar. The bartender was a guy in a jean jacket with fur lining. When the bartender turn around he was shocked to see a teacher sitting there.

“We don’t serve minors,” the bartender said.

“Why ever not?”  Five said, giving a shit eating grin.

“Because it’s against the law and I could get this place shut down,”

Five grumbled. 

“Look I can’t save you alcohol but is there anything I can get you?”

“Two cheeseburgers, a coffee, and a tea unsweetened with two lemons. To go,” Five grumbled.

“Okay. I’m Viktor by the way,”

“Five”

“Like the number?”

“No like the letter,” Five snapped. Viktor put in the order and turned back to Five.

“You are one moody ass teen,”

“You would be if you spent the night killing people three times your size,” Five said. He had no problem saying the truth because this man was not likely to even believe him. One benefit that the Home taught him: no one suspects a kid to be a murder. 

“Really?” Viktor asked. Viktor wasn’t sure if to be scared cause the kid could be a serial killer or laugh because the kid was crazy. Klaus would have a field day with this.

“Really and how would someone so young be able to get a jump on guys three times your size,”

“The Gang I killed was bright. So snapped the bodyguard's necks and then one other started firing. I loaded my gun and shot them and killed the rest with an axe,” Five said with yet another shit eating grin. Viktor was so concerned. This kid had just play play a murder of a group of people. Viktor knew he was going to the cops about this kid so he kept asking questions about him.

“And your parents let you be out late? Don’t you have a curfew?”

“In order to have a curfew you have to have parents or a person that gives a shit about you. The only person that really gives a shit knows that it do what I do,”

“They don’t question it,”

“No, she accepts all my flaws. To be honest I don’t deserve him at all,”

“She sounds great,”

“Yeah. My only regret is that when someone kills because believe me someone will. My regret is that I won’t be able to spend my afterlife with her. Hell is going to suck for me so much,” Fire laughed.

“There is a way to make it so you could stay with you,” Viktor said. Viktor, what are you doing? You are putting this girl in danger.

“Oh”

“You could always make it so she was damned to. Both of you would go to hell. Together,”

Five looked serious and it sent shivers down Viktor's spine, “I would never do that. Delores doesn’t deserve that. She deserves to go to peace. Damning her would be damning everything good in my life,”

“You really care for her?” Viktor said, shocked.

“Of course I do. You helped my through my shitty life,” 

Then the cook finished the order. Viktor handed the meal to Five. Five gave him a fifty bill.

“That is way to much the mean was only fifteen,”

“Keep the change then. A tip for talking to me. Maybe next time you’ll let me have a drink?”

“Thank but it's still not happening. Hey the order yiu taking to your girl? Delores?”

“Yeah. Going to surprise her at work,”

“Nice,” Viktor nodded. Five opened the door letting Klaus in. Viktor watched as the kid walked down the street.

“Are you serving kids now Vico?” Klaus said sitting in the same spot as Five had.

“No. The kid tried to though,” Viktor said.

“Bad lucky to him. He came to the bar with the tightest ass bartender and owner,”

“Yeah but I need to call the cops,”

“Why?” Klaus said ready for some gossip. 

“Because the kid that just left. I think he murdered the gang two building from us,”

“Well shit,” Klaus said shocked.

Viktor walked over to the bar’s pay phone and dialed 9-1-1. 

“Hello 9-1-1 what is your emergency?”

“It’s not an emergency, at least not like that,” Viktor clears up with the operator.

“Why did you call?”

“All think I might have a tip on a serial murder case,”

-o0o-

“Diego!” Someone called.

“Yeah?”

“I think I might have a lead in your gang case,” the cop said.

“Damn, well due tell,”

“I got a call from an owner of a bar on the street that their bodies were found. He thinks he just talked to the killer,” 

“Killer as in one guy?” Diego asked, confused. The gang that was taken down must have been like a ten man team. Not one guy. 

“Yeah,”

“Well I take everything I can get,”

“Address is on your desk,”

“Thanks man,”

Diego stood in the front of the bar that the beat cop gave him. He opened the door. The bar has been shut down. Only two men sat in the bar. One got up as soon as Diego said. The man held out his hand.

“Viktor. And that’s Klaus,” the man introduced. Klaus had a lazy wave from where he sat.

“Detective Diego Handler,”

“Thank you for coming, Detective,” Viktor says.

“Yeah of course they tell me you have a tip,” Diego said, grabbing his pad of paper. Viktor told Diego everything.

“A kid?” Diego said, shocked.

“Yes. He looked about 16,” Viktor confirms. Diego mumbles something else and closes the pad.

“You don’t card at the door?”

“Only after eight. It’s also a restaurant during the day,” Viktor said. 

“Okay. Did he mention anyone else? Anyone else that might be endangered,” 

“He mentioned his girlfriend. Delores,”

“Anything about Delores?”

“He made mention that she was much better then him. And didn’t deserve her,”

“That’s all?”

“Yes,”

“Well Viktor let me know if the kid comes back again. And if it does, call 9-1-1. It seems this kid is really dangerous,” 

-o0o-

Sloane thought she had seen Luther walk into the clothing store. She walked around and a worker must have thought she was lost because a burnett walked up to her. Her name badges read Delores. 

“Do you need help finding anything?”

“Yes umm this is usually but I’m looking for my Husband, Luther Hargreeves. I thought I saw him walk in here. He’s over six foot. Blond and built like a muscle man,”

Delores laughed, “Quite usual. I don’t think I have. I can let othe other know. And if you give your number to the front desk then if we see we’ll call. I’m sorry I’ll look for him. But my lunch is in ten minutes,”

“Thank you so much,” 

“Of course,” 

The door rang and Delores ran to go help them and Sloane went to wander the store. Delores stop short when she saw Five.

“What are you doing here though you were at work?” She said, giving him a hug.

“Boss gave me the day off. Though I’d bring you lunch,” he said, holding up a bag and a cardboard drink holder with two cups.

“Thank you so much!” She said hugging him. The two walked outside and sat on the bench.

“How was work?” Five asked her.

“It was work. Just met a lady looking for her husband in the story said she lost him,”

“Probably though the husband was cheating and was following him,” 

“Must you alway be so negative?” She asked.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“Oh I might get promoted,” Delores said happily. 

“That's great. You deserve it?” Five smiles drinking his coffee. Sloane walked if the clothing store and saw Delores sitting next to a boy how was wearing a dress shirt, vest and tie. Dress up really more then anymore his age. It reminded her of well Five. FIVE! Sloane turned around.

“Five?” Sloane asked. Both teenagers turned to look at Sloane.

“How the hell are you,” Five said, looking like her was going to grab a weipon. Delores stopped him. 

“It’s Sloane you don’t remember? We’ve been trying to find all your siblings. I was Luther in the store,” Sloane rambled. Five got up Delores tried to stop him but he walked towards Sloane.

“Listín lady, I haven't talk to any of those kids since I was ten. So if they are looking for me any of them. Tell them all to go to hell,” Five said, getting in Sloane's face. Delores dragged Five back. 

“Five but your an Umbrella,”

“Thanks for reminding me. Go to fucking hell,” Five said cleaning up Delores and his meal and walking inside the store. Delores watched him leave.

“Look if anyone from Umbrella Street is looking for him. Please tell him don’t. He’s been through enough,”

Delores said before walking inside. 

-o0o-

Ben has by a  counseling building. It had a photo of all the different photos of the counselors and what groups that they lead. He saw Klaus’ photo in two. Grief counseling for family members are passed to service member. And for recovering drug and alcohol addicts. Both are very fitting for his brother. He went inside. He walked up to the lady at the front desk.

“Hi I’m looking for Klaus Hargreeves,” Ben said.

“There is no one here by that last name,”

“I just saw his photo outside. I know Klaus is here,” Ben said.

“Oh Klaus. Yes, that sweet heart. He’s not here. I think he left with the friend,” 

“What friend,”

“I think his name was Viktor. He owns a bar Two  streets down,” 

Ben ran out. If he found Viktor and Klaus he would only have to find Five. Which might be harder because no one could find Five didn’t want to be found.

***New Chapter y’all. Hope you guys like. I currently typing chapter three. Going a bit slow. Don’t worry though I try to finish soon. I’ll make a table of contents post and add chapter as three post so you can there for the chapters. So that’s soon. Anyway let me know what you think. Sorry for any grammatical errors and spelling. I’m not the best speller.

Thanks!!!

[songmingisthighs]

Ignominy

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. xliv - lunch

hybrid!san × human!reader

buy me coffee ?

warning : mdni, smut; explicit sex (not piv), oral (f receiving), semi foot job (??), jerking off, filthy shit

everyone wants to belong, it's basic human need to connect with people around them. what happens when you're responsible for someone who belongs to two worlds but at the same time belongs to neither ? worst part is, what happens when it's your ex ?

You checked your phone and it was 12.13 pm, 13 minutes passed the time San said he would get back. "Butt face," you muttered putting your phone screen down on San's desk. Bored, you stood from your seat to lean over so you could browse through the things on San's desk. He kept everything messily organized, like there are piles and things everywhere, but things are obviously where they should be. And you noticed that the piles were how you organized them and he kept it all the way you did it. During your first week of working you would've thought that he'd undo any and all work you did in his private space. It was good knowing that he had a good change of thought of you since you started working.

"Are you snooping?"

To say you were surprised was an absolute understatement as you hit your knee on his desk rather harshly to the point that you stumbled slightly. San chuckled and pressed his body close to you, pulling you straight up in his arms and guiding you towards his chair. "We got ourselves a clumsy snoop it seems," you pouted at the way he was poking fun at you but didn't say anything as he was placing you on his desk, in front of him, "Do I need to call the Black Widow to help train you?" He smirked, placing both of his hands on either side of your body. You rolled your eyes and flicked his forehead, making him let out a soft 'ow' and a frown, "The Black Widow's dead, San, you're gonna need to borrow Stark's time machine thingy to get her here," you pointed out, crossing your arms in front of your chest with an eyebrow raised cockily. The skin of your stockings-clad knees suddenly felt warm and when your eyes flitted to the spot momentarily, you noticed he had placed his hand there with his thumb rubbing circles on the inner side gently. "Nerd," he teased and you simply rolled your eyes at him.

You were about to get off of his desk when he took a seat on his chair but before you could even attempt to, San pushed his chair forward, effectively trapping you. "Aren't you gonna ask me how my meeting went?" with a raised eyebrow he asked you teasingly as his hands pulled you closer to the edge so that your feet were dangling on the space under his armrest. You shrugged and decided to go with whatever it was that San was trying to do, "Nah... I don't really care much about what you and a bunch of stuffy suits and pencil skirts talked about in a boring old meeting room," San's left eyebrow twitched upwards when he noticed you were being coy with him and his fingers tightened at the sight of your plump, glossy bottom lip trapped between your teeth. "What I care about though," slowly, his hands trail up your legs and slipped under your skirt, resting right where your legs meet your hips with his thumb softly caressing your underwear over your stockings, "is what's under your skirt," he smirked smugly.

Just as San was about to pull your stockings and underwear off by tugging on the waistband, your legs snapped shut as your eyes grew large. Your reaction was not accepted well by San as he hissed at you, bottom lip jutted out into a pout as his eyes stared at you disapprovingly. "Are you fucking crazy?" you tried to snap your legs shut but San's hands were firm with keeping them for him, having full control of your position. "Look who got some tongue now," He scoffed whilst smirking slightly, "Are you being disrespectful to your boss now?" "If it stops my BOSS from doing something stupid like getting caught having sex with his assistant in his office during his break!" You were rather ticked by him, or more towards his sheer nonchalance over being absolutely careless considering the two of you had just gotten caught in a VERY compromising situation not even a week ago in someone else's bathroom. But San simply shrugged as he ripped the crotch of your stockings, exposing your underwear-clad core to the cold air in the room and making you gasp out of surprise. "Well, then we'll say I was having my lunch," it was obvious that San wasn't taking the situation seriously, maybe even thinking that he was so smart for making a such joke. In a different circumstance, you would have absolutely laughed because even you had to admit that it was rather hilarious. But not then, not when he had pulled your panties to the side and eyed your cunt hungrily.

Brazenly, you held San back with your foot to his chest, this time taking him by surprise as evident with his enlarged orbs staring at you. Despite the fact that you were frowning at him in disapproval, San couldn't help but shift his eyes under your skirt and bit the blooming grin on his lips at the sight of your underwear. "Don't try to be funny, I could lose my job," a thought came to your head that maybe he was clouded by his heir privilege, not quite realizing that you were dispensable at the company. You had been so worried over the past couple of days because you didn't know whether his friends were going to say something or not. While it seemed like they won't and nothing bad had happened anyways, you didn't know if anything was happening behind your back with the HR and it caused your anxiety to spike. But San didn't share this worry as he grabbed your foot that was on his chest and placed it over his shoulder, with a roll of his eyes, he returned to his previous task of pulling your underwear to the side so he could directly stare at your wet cunt. "Believe me when I say your job is secured and no one, not even my friends, will come to my office when you're not manning your desk," his tone was reassuring and confident, you immediately recognized it as his business voice, the tone he had to adopt as a high ranking corporate worker who makes deals on a daily basis. Sure, it felt convincing and you felt your worries lessening slightly at his words, but you also felt like he knew something else.

You were about to ask him what he meant by you won't lose your job when he stuck three fingers inside you. Your eyes rolled back into your head and your head lulled to the side at the sudden impact. San smirked when he saw how you reacted to his surprise attack, pleased that he managed to shut you up even if momentarily. In his head, he made a mental task for himself; keeping you from asking questions you weren't supposed to and keeping himself from answering questions he wasn't supposed to. "Look at you loving my fingers in your cunt," he chuckled darkly, teasing you on purpose, "Now tell me why you didn't want me to fuck you in the office, huh? Tell me how am I supposed to hold myself back when you're just so... Fucking irresistible with your skirts and pantsuits, looking so prim and proper around the office and having no one realize just how much of a slut you can be." You couldn't help but moan from the words San used but also from the way his fingers were massaging your walls. Not that you would admit out loud, but San was an expert at what he does, it was almost as if he was a natural at it which was why you refused to believe that he hasn't been fooling around since the two of you broke up. It made no sense for him to be so great with your body without going over some trials and errors with other women.

As San's fingers began to pump into your cunt at a slow pace to start, he instructed you to lean back slightly simply by pushing your lower stomach, adding pressure to the budding pleasure. When you looked down, you made eye contact with San as he lowered his face slowly, tongue darting out between his lips as if he couldn't wait to taste you. Your chest was rising heavily, excitement running through your body and accumulating anticipation that caused your body to shudder when San's tongue made the slightest contact with your wet core. HIs fingers stopped their movements and instead stayed inside you so you still felt like you were being filled as his tongue began its teasing licks. "Fuck," you choked out when you felt San's tongue grazing your slit from where his finger was and up to your clit where he pressed his tongue flat on it. Your body vibrated when San hummed against your cunt and you swore your hole leaked more arousal when you heard his voice. "How was I supposed to not want to taste you any time and anywhere I can?" the first taste seemed to not quench San's thirst for you as instead of feeling satisfied, San felt that he craved more of you, he wanted every single drop of you. "Mine," he growled, taking your sensitive nub between his teeth and tugging on it carelessly. The action forced your legs to instinctively close but San's broad shoulders were in the way, keeping your thighs apart but accidentally letting your foot that was on his lap to slip and made contact with his crotch.

The feeling was new to San, he even had to stop the ministration of his mouth when he felt the sole of your high heel shoe pressed onto his hard cock. His eyes widened and he gulped, finding pleasure in it that caused his hips to ground upwards against your foot instinctively and you took notice of this. "Oh lookie who's acting like a horny bitch now," San detached his mouth from your cunt to groan out when your foot pressed onto his dick harder, "Can't deny that you look cute like this, though," you chuckled. It would seem like you had an upper hand in this situation what with San's release being in your hands (or foot in this case). But ever the confident prick, San lifted himself off of you slightly and pulled his fingers out of you in favour of grabbing your foot, he then proceed to press it harder on his hard dick whilst simultaneously grinding against it. "Just because I let you do some shit doesn't mean you have the upper hand, got it?" he smirked.

San pulled you closer to the edge by your thighs harshly and spared you one last glance before diving back down, "If your feet stop moving, I won't let you cum." And you almost forget what to do because once San returned to eating you out, he wasn't giving you mercy. His tongue moved expertly into your hole as he alternated between it and gave you harsh suck everywhere. A loud slap was heard and your body jolted at the impact San gave to the side of your thigh, spanking you hard enough to get your attention. The glare he gave you was one of warning and reminder, wanting you to hold your end of the work so he would be gaining something as well. It was hard trying to use your foot to work San up especially since he was doing wonders to your cunt that made your legs weak, but you were still determined to try. Mostly because he threatened to not let you cum but also because you want him to be affected by you once in a while.

Soon, the both of you fell into a rhythm of pleasuring each other. You became more comfortable using your feet on San, knowing just what made him tick and how to tease him. You found out through his moans that he particularly liked you using the sharp tip of your heels on his sensitive tip. The combination of his pants and the pressure was just perfect for San as it provides textured friction but also pressure with an edge of pain that wasn't too overbearing. Not that he minded, but it would be best to use pain at a later time, preferably somewhere you can be as loud as you can comfortably.

"S-shit," you gasped when you felt San spreading your pussy apart to tongue-fuck your hole, greedily slurping the essence you produced as obnoxious sucking sounds filled the room. San's teeth nibbled on one side of your pussy lips, chuckling when he felt the leg that was on his shoulder pull him even closer than before (if it was possible). "Are you trying to suffocate me on your cunt?" another gasp left your lips when San reached between and slapped your pussy twice, making your body jolt in surprise and your hole clench around nothing, something San saw clearly. "Y-you said you wanted to have me, didn't you?" you whimpered as you let your foot run up the length of San's cock with a slight pressure that made the man hum in approval. San smirked against your pussy after hearing that, loving how submissive you sounded. "You're right, baby, I should thank you, huh?"

Out of the blue, San plunged three of his fingers into your cunt as his lips latched on your clit. The combination of the actions and abruptness made your leg muscles spasm slightly and you accidentally pressed onto San's cock a little harder than you intended. San grunted from the pain but he made no move to stop his work, allowing you to think that he might be into that. But you couldn't make fun of him, not when you felt your climax approaching. "Yes, oh fuck! Mo- more, Sannie, more!" you whined, tucking your face into your arm slightly to muffle out the very needy and whiny voice you were making. It wasn't just your voice that drove him into bringing you to your climax, but it was also how your feet were rubbing on him harshly, bordering on just directly stepping onto his dick. But he loved it, he loved it so much that it drove him to eat you out with even more fervour.

It happened all at once, you came hard on his tongue as your thighs shook and you accidentally used your heel to press on his cock and it made him choke on your cunt slightly. San pushed himself off of you and immediately stood up on his own slightly shaky legs. He then pulled you up into a sitting position, not even caring that you were still trying to ride your high. Your head was fuzzy with pleasure and you didn't even realize that San had whipped his dick out and was jerking himself off. San was hissing at the feeling of his dick finally getting attention after being tortured by your foot and it felt so good getting pleasure after being teased as he pleasured you. It wasn't until you felt something warm on your cunt that you looked down to see what San was doing. He had pulled your underwear just enough to have his cock slip in and come on your bare cunt. You couldn't help but shudder and let out a moan at the feeling of his warm cunt filling your panties and as you were in such a state, San was peppering kisses from your cheek down to your neck, giving you praises for being so good and obedient for him as he continued finishing himself off.

Once done, San slumped back into his chair with a satisfied grin as you shift on your seat, the feeling of his cum in your panties rather unusual but at the same time, it felt dirty enough that it was hot and slightly turning you on. "My cum better still be in your panties by the end of the day and yes, I will check," San said smugly, smirking at you and you couldn't help but roll your eyes and scoff but the blush on your face showed how embarrassed you were at the thought of him looking into your panties later in the day.

The thought of people finding out that you have been sleeping with your boss pushed to the back burner. Now, you could only think about how you were supposed to survive the day with San's cum in your panties. Thoughts of what if it drips out and people notice flooded your head and you thought to yourself.

'Why do I put myself in this position?'

taglist :

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[hikikolol]

*ready, action*

ham wonjin

there's no one better than asking your best friend to help you film a content

warning!! use of sex toys, reader being in OF, edging (r), dacryphilia, use of "sir"

— 2.5k words

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

"fuck please fill me up, oh my god" you glanced at the viewfinder that was connected to your monitor to see if the angle of was right. your set up was hella expensive and thanks to your viewers, you could afford it the month you joined onlyfans. a triple monitor hooked onto your pc that was also powered by the most high-end and powerful cpu ever to date, it was also helpful having so many monitors to use as your viewfinder for your cameras, the four movie-rated cameras that are always propped up onto their respective tripods. two light boxes that are on either side of your room to fix the light fixtures for your film, it was all too great, very professional.

you were too lost in your own world to notice what time it was, pleasure building up more and more as your viewers paid a ridiculous amount to see you suffer— pleasure —you were doing a live stream, for every tip you got; depending on how much, the vibrator you held against you would automatically heighten in speed. you had no control over it and your ability to cum was in your viewers' reach, it had your legs shaking for about two hours now, they had been denying your climax for that long and it had your eyes pool with tears but they can't see it for you are a faceless streamer. strings of polite requests dripped out of your mouth as you begged for them to make you cum, a generous viewer had pain plenty, finally urging the vibrator to go on full speed for ten seconds making you squirt inevitably.

you took your time to breathe as you gave them encouragments of gratitude for making you come, you changed the camera angle from your little remote and started bidding your goodbyes as you turned it off. heaving a deep sigh at the mess you were about to clean up, you stood up and took your equipments off piece by piece as you placed them back into their respective bags to stuff them into the closet door in your room. you have always kept your business private from your friends; most of them being men, you didn't want them knowing what kind of stuff you do for a living. going by an online streamer when they asked but never gave them the id.

putting your stuff aside and hiding it by a huge blanket, you started putting on some fresh clothes that you put aside before you started streaming. a hoodie you came to love from your best friend and some shorts that were very overworn. wonjin, the said best friend, was going to come over tonight to play some games on your set up. he had always adored your set up since he deemed it as the powerhouse of all pcs and therefore, he loved playing his games on it. most of the apps being his and his account logged in, you never minded it, it gave you a piece of mind that it was worth paying so much money for.

filling a cup with some water, you jumped at the sudden loud ring of the keypad being unlocked, wonjin inviting himself in with some bags of take-out in his hands, "there's my hoodie, i was wondering if i lost it" "hello to you too, what's the take out for tonight?" "chicken and beer" you nodded as he made himself home at your living room, setting on the coffee table as you reached for some plates and cutlery. moving to his side, you took your remote and chose a movie to play as a background while you both ate and talked. it's something you loved doing with wonjin, despite his busy schedule in his university and part time job as a growing actor, he has never failed to spend his off days with you. though at times he knows you love your space, he also knows you like having company around so lounging without even talking was the norm between the both of you.

-- -- --

"hey, i'm going to download some mods for my game, would that be alright?" wonjin asked, "yeah, sure, just make sure it's from a safe site, i guess" both of you were now in your bedroom, wonjin sat in front of your set up while you laid on your bed, scrolling through endless tiktoks from your phone. the clicks from your keyboard as well as the mouse filled your room as you fell into a light nap from the therapeutic noises.

"what the fuck?"

followed by a moan stirred you up into your sleep, a shriek coming from wonjin's moth soon follow after, making you sit up on your bed. "why the hell are you screaming?" your eyes trailed onto one of the monitors by wonjin's side as you hear another moan coming out of your speakers— your moan. you scrambled off of your bed to wonjin's side as you exit the video he was watching, it was a video you filmed earlier in the day as a pay per view for your fans. you looked over to your side, a wide-eyed wonjin staring back at your face, "y/n what the fuck was that?" you sighed and sat on the corner of your bed. "first of all, why were you snooping around?" "i wasn't! i was fixing my mods and it wasn't starting up so i looked at the files and that video somehow ended up in the folder!" you looked down, you couldn't look at him in the eye after he watched you basically fuck yourself with a plastic dildo. deciding it was best to tell him the truth, wonjin wouldn't turn a blind eye, you trusted him too much to do that. he may feel a little awkward but it would pass, it's wonjin afterall.

"i do it as a living, i stream and i upload videos for my...uhh... followers" starting to lift your head up to look at him properly, "you...you're a pornstar?" "what? no! i mean, technically, but i do it by myself and anonymously. they can't see my face and i edit my voice so it isn't my real one" "since when?" "since i moved here. when i got fired, this was the fastest way to earn money at the little time i was given to pay the rent" you both fell into an awkward silence, his finger now tapping at the side of your table, cheeks puffed and eyes wide as he took in everything you said, "is it forced? i mean you know you can ask us for help with finances, right? we'll lend you any amount just say the word" he stood up from his seat to take both of your hands in his whilst he made you look into his eyes, "no, it isn't, i mean- yeah maybe at first but i grew to really enjoy it" he was taken aback that's for sure, he leaned onto your chair as he melted onto it, it was like his whole world collapsed onto his shoulders as every word came out of your mouth.

-- -- --

a few days passed since the conversation with wonjin had happened, thankfully, he grew calmer and accepted the fact that you were doing something very...erotic for a living. he never did grow awkward after the encounter which you were grateful for, but now is your recent problem. your viewers grew tired of you doing things alone, they wanted spice, something new, they wanted thrill. now you could have looked for someone in your field to do it with you, a collab per say but you weren't too comfortable doing it with someone you didn't actually know. here you were dialling the very person that came across your sex tape, you trusted him enough, you know he wouldn't judge, and you have his files ready to be deleted if he said something degrading (out of sex), it was all too perfect.

"hello?" a groggy voice answered,

"are you just waking up? wanj, it's 3 pm"

"and? why did you call?"

"come over please, i need help. i'll explain it when you're here" you ended the call right after, not wanting to explain it through the phone with him just waking up. screaming into your pillow from the tension you were feeling, you were nervous of course, telling him about your job and asking him for help was completely different and it could lead to a very awkward atmosphere when he does reject it. your video was due in four days too so it wasn't an ample time to find another guy to do it with.

you heard your door open about 20 minutes after, you took the time to set your equipments up just in case he approved on doing it, it would save you time and him backing out last minute. you walked out into your living room before he got the chance to look into your bedroom. you motioned for him to sit on the couch as you went to get him some coke from the fridge. "what's this about?" he asked, "you're the only one that knows about my job and...i kind of need your help that uhm.. involves my job" the words came out ever so slowly, handing him the now opened can of coke, "what about your job? are you planning on quitting?" "no, it's uhh... to explain it plainly, my viewers wants more, they're tired of seeing me do things alone so they suggested i find someone that could...help me" voice trailing off as you looked to the ground, it's as if you could feel the heat radiating off of wonjin's body with what you had just told him. he stood up and paced around the living room a bit to process what you just had said, there's another thing to note about all of this; a few years ago, wonjin had confessed that he liked you. you rejected him as you weren't sure if you were quite ready to be in a relationship just yet and thankfully, that didn't ruin your friendship with him— it actually grew from then on, you were almost inseparable by now. asking him to do this was almost sending him to his deathbed, you knew this but you still chose to be selfish and asked him for the favor.

"wait. what kind of help of help are we talking about here?"

"well i was thinking you could be in the video, no face included of course, and you'd be holding onto this remote. it's kind of like a pov set up so you'd be holding onto the camera while-"

"hold up, sorry, step back a bit. you want me in the video helping to pleasure you?"

"well, that's the plan...listen, if you're uncomfortable to do it, i can look for another pers-"

"no! i'll do it! just..teach me for a bit, i'm new to all of this so, let me learn"

you looked back at him surprised, you didn't think it was that easy to convince him to do it. he might still have some feelings for you afterall. you gave him a nod and led him to your room, showing him your set up and how it worked; handing him a handheld camera to let him get used to the pov camerawork, holding it up to his face, he turned to you, seeing you doe eyes looking up at the camera from his upper angle, "how is it? are you doing okay?" oh he is not gonna be able to live through the night "yeah just fine, you? you sure you wanna do this?" a smile and a curt nod followed through the viewfinder of the camera, his cheeks flaring up at the confidence you were oozing out of. sharing more bits of how you usually did things around when you'd film, telling him how the monitors were your viewfinder and how you could tell the video was being filmed right. he listened diligently and tried to remember which was which.

"now this; is the remote, there are buttons there to fasten the vibrations and such. experiment around it, it'll be fun!" handing him the small pink remote, its silicone body fit in his hand perfectly, running his thumb lightly on the buttons that were on the device, his eyes widened a bit this must be a fucking dream.

-- -- --

you were a whimpering mess. you could've came a long time ago but no, wonjin has been edging you for three hours now. your videos came up to only an hour and a half at most, you had plenty of footage already but he still kept on going. "please, please sir, please let me cum, i can't take it anymore, please!" sobbing into the pillow, you felt your stomach tighten from the upcoming orgasm.

before filming the video, you had asked wonjin what he wanted to be addressed, giving him examples of names and such but what surprised you the most was when he said sir. he said it so confidently too, giving you a smug look whilst you fumble out words but decided it was best either way. there you were now, ass up on the bed whilst he sat on your office chair by your desk, his right hand on the camera nearing his face while the left held onto the remote. your legs were shaking at this point, barely keeping your back in check, you didn't even bother looking at the monitors about an hour in, you were just desperate in releasing your high.

you didn't even notice how wonjin stood up from his seat and slowly walked towards you until you felt his hand push you back lower to raise your ass up, his hands finding their way to the middle of your legs to stretch them apart giving him the most perfect view. he couldn't help it, his hands lingered on for a bit longer, caressing your soft skin finding its way higher and higher until it reached your clit. you screamed for him as he circled around, "cum for me, baby" his direct command sent chills down your spine, speeding his actions made you lose your mind as you came, screaming and shaking whilst you emptied yourself. slowly moving your legs to close; you felt your sheets oh fuck you squirted...a lot. muttering curses under your harboured breaths, wonjin ended the recording and walked over to your desk to get the towel you put earlier and started cleaning you up.

"you mind helping me next?" wonjin asked as he reached to pat your head, if looks could kill; he would've been six feet under as you glared at him, "you edged me for three fucking hours, ham wonjin" he let out a breathy laugh whilst helping you up. "and you did great" "take your clothes off and lay down. i'm getting my fucking revenge"

• ₊ ༝ · ˖ ₊ ˚ 。 . ⋆• ₊ ༝ · ˖ ₊ ˚ 。 . ⋆• ₊ ༝ · ˖ ₊ ˚ 。 . ⋆

hello luvs!!! hope you like this HAHAHAHA specially 🫠 anon, noah, and sam ehem i might make a part 2 for here since it was mostly plot and little smut, i'm not too sure when that will be posted but yeah! i had a lot of fun making this and i was supposed to release it as a bday gift to myself but i got busy so ig this is a belated bday gift HAHAHAHAH see u soon luvies!!

[alexanderflowerbird]

It’s been a bajillion years since I’ve posted my own writing on here and my moots got me inspired so here have a snippet from New Faith

“Care for dessert?” Mercutio asks to keep them at the table, keep them comfortable. Vincente has few weaknesses, but sweets are high on that short list, so he isn’t surprised when Vincente nods and asks for coffee too. There is a cheesecake in his fridge that was brought over as a surprise from Mr.Crawford around six. The man was hoping he’d catch Mercutio just in time for dinner and obviously hoped he could invite himself in with the homemade dessert as a rite of passage. Mercutio turned him away disappointed, but accepted the cheesecake out of politeness because Mr.Crawford insisted and it occurred to Mercutio that Vincente would be pleased with cheesecake after a harrowing day of seeing new life brought into the world.

Mr.Crawford, Dorrance Crawford, is another quietly closeted man who seems to be entranced with Mercutio’s openness of self, oblivious to how much is truly covered and hidden away but fascinated with what he sees enough to try and start an affair with all the proper courtship antics of a highschooler asking another highschooler to the prom. Flowers, desserts, the occasional fidgety conversation on Mercutio’s porch are not turned away out right because they’re harmless and Mercutio admittedly enjoys the attention. Not enough to make something of it, but well… a man’s got needs, and Mercutio’s touch starved way of being can be comfortably sated without feeling like he’s betraying what he and Vincente have --whatever it is-- by accepting these classical shows of interest. There is something a little wicked about feeding the man he loves but cannot have a dessert made by a man who likes him but doesn’t stand a chance, but unlike Vincente, Mercutio isn’t quite so repulsed by this sort of interpersonal wickedness.

He starts up the coffee pot and pulls out those pretty little dessert plates from Ms.Dorothy, the edges curved in a bouncing, floral way and the print upon them reminiscent of a fancy paper doily. He doesn’t look as he hears plates and forks clinking, lets Vincente follow his compulsive instinct to clean as the other man busies himself washing their used plates and setting them neatly in the drying rack just to the side of the sink. It’s fine, this is ritual, and Mercutio hates dishes. Vincente knows Mercutio hates dishes, too… and Mercutio considers that perhaps he should expand his idea of how love is shown beyond those dark days as he puts the cheesecake slices on those pretty plates and places them on the table. It is his turn to stare at the coffee pot, if only so he is not staring at Vincente.

“Making it go faster?” Vincente asks over the running water, and Mercutio laughs, “You know it.” He agrees, and in the corner of his eye he can see Vincente’s perfect lips smiling-- he has smiled so much today that Mercutio wonders if his face hurts a little, if he might turn a corner and start smiling more. Vincente’s sternness has its allure after all, but when he smiles? Catholic angels sing, Mercutio is sure, or some other holy thing happens in the world to commemorate the loveliness of it.

“Why don’t we have dessert in the living room?” Vincente suggests, and this makes Mercutio look at him. He isn’t looking back though, busy with the dishes, and so relaxed with the suggestion that Mercutio immediately justifies it as some want for physical comfort, that his back hurts or he wants to nestle into the recliner with his cheesecake and luxuriate in his day of perfect goodness.

“Sure.” Mercutio agrees with pointed casualness, getting out mugs, one that says ‘Fuck Mondays’ for him, one that says ‘Don’t Talk To Me’ for Vincente. When the coffee is made he pours it without preamble- they both like their coffee black which is a matter of habit for him and a surprise for Vincente given his love for sugar, but it makes it a quick, easy thing at least. Vincente dries his hands on a towel and hangs it neatly in the handle of the oven rather than returning it to its crumpled spot on the counter before he gathers the cheesecake plates, moving around the median that separates the kitchen and dining space from the carpeted living room.

Mercutio follows him and sits, about to ask more about the day, about the pudgy little baby Vincente is in love with when their eyes, together, fall on the news paper on his coffee table, folded open on the article about Crested Butte, Colorado, the article that they both have glared at and scanned multiple times and wondered about without speaking about it. Mercutio snatches the paper and fights the urge to toss it over the back of his couch like some sitcom character in an obvious tell of ‘don’t look at that’, but instead he closes the paper properly and sets it on the far side of the coffee table, away from them, like it’s infected.

It is, in a way. If they talk about it, it will elicit a reaction in them that Mercutio knows is irreversible, they will contract a need to know that they have fought so hard to cure themselves of. Mercutio already knows they are showing symptoms, hiding them from each other, metaphorically coughing into their elbows as though they both don’t have the same affliction and can save each other from something they both have. A stupid, insufferable desire to know, to do something, to worry over little towns that are not their own little town. If they leave it be, it’s just the sniffles right? So Mercutio determinedly tries to leave it be.

[luckyduck0]

❀𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗒𝖺𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗌❀

Was Sandy panicking the entire drive to some random location on Giggle Maps? Perhaps. Was she also fully aware that she had what could possibly be her dead friend and a criminal in the back of her van? Perhance.

But whose to know, right? It’s not like her leg was bouncing from anxiety the whole ride, neither were her palms sweaty live a damn river. No way.

“Ya good?” Nyxx asked, peering out from the back seat.

Nervously laughing, Sandy readjusted her grip on the wheel. “Hah! That is— that’s is a great question, man! I don’t know! Haha, where are we going again?”

“EDEN Academy, they have a medical wing with some of the best doctors in the world. They’ll be able to help Xen.” Nyxx reassured, as he had a few times since the start of the drive.

“Right, right..” Sandy replied, nodding her head, trying to get her eye to stop twitching. “A-anyway, on that note, how exactly do you know Xen?”

Sandy knew the answer, or part of it, at least. She still hadn’t let go of her initial skepticism of him, considering the whole idea of being saved by the same person you served coffee was really interesting coincidence. Now would be the perfect time to figure out just why he helped Xen, and why exactly he’s helping now.

Not that Sandy didn’t appreciate it. She can’t even imagine what might’ve happened had he and that other lady not shown up, but she was allowed to have mixed feelings!

He seemed to contemplate the question. “Well, about a week ago, I kind of saved her from a mutant thing? Then I took her to the hospital and gave her my number in case of an emergency.”

Even with her mind running a mile a minute, Sandy could still tell Nyxx was on edge. That was probably the best she was gonna get out of him for the moment.

“Got it. So, do you know why might be happening to her? Like, why she exploded into weird green fire or whatever?”

“I’m not sure.. I haven’t seen anything like this before. But if I had to guess, this was probably the result of some failed experiment. Though, you’re guess is as good as mine at the moment.” Nyxx shook his head, looking down to where Xen laid, still.

Sandy kept her eyes back on the road, they were getting close to the academy. Picking up the speed, she swore when something came flying at her side mirror.

Cracking the glass and throwing the van off balance, Sandy yelled as she tried to regain control of the vehicle.

“Fuck! What the hell was that?!” The girl panicked, swiveling her head this way and that.

“Eyes on the road! I’ll take care of it, just focus on getting us to the academy!” Nyxx commanded, throwing open the back doors.

Groaning, Sandy concentrated on the task at hand. She heard an inhuman shriek from atop the van, as well as many thumps and bangs. Well, at least she wasn’t fighting it. Sparing a glance at Xen, she saw her limp on the floor of the van, barely moving. The thinnest of shadows held her in place, which must be because Nyxx was fighting.

“Dammit Xen, please be okay.” Sandy mumbled to herself, concern and anxiety almost consuming her.

Thankfully, what seemed like a very flashy government building appeared in front of her. Overcome with relief, Sandy forgot about traffic laws and sped toward the parking lot.

Swinging into a spot sharply, Sandy put the van in park and hopped out. Above her, Nyxx threw what appeared like a weird bird creature to the ground. It spit up some acid stuff, part of it hitting the van, melting a hole right through.

“Ah! My van! My beautiful van!” Sandy shouted in horror, turning to the thing. “You motherfucker! Do you know how much that costed me?! I’ll bash your brains in you damn disgusting bastard!”

Nyxx turned her, a bit surprised at her profanity. He watched as the girl pulled a bat out of nowhere and started beating the thing to hell. Sandy, however, didn’t really care. The bird thing tried to fight back, but she kicked it’s talon away and smashed the bat against its face.

“That’s what ya get, shit-face.” Sandy smirked, wiping the purple blood from her clothes.

She swiftly turned to Nyxx, who only blinked.

“The hell are ya doin’? Go get Xen some help!”

Widening his eyes, Nyxx nodded and quickly headed to the van, wrapping Xen up in shadows again. He lifted her with ease and sped-walk into the building. Sandy followed close behind, closing the doors of her van and wiping some brain mush off her bat.

“Gideon!” Nyxx shouted as he walked in. “Call Tsubaki! We need help, now!”

A robotic voice spoke back, sounding more like choppy text-to-speech than an actual voice.

“Of course, Nyxx.”

Sandy stared at the ceiling in awe, wondering just what the hell was going on. Nyxx began walking faster, and Sandy struggled to keep up.

“How the hell..are you so fast?” Sandy panted, running had never been her favorite activity.

“Keep up.” He said, his eyes looking straight ahead.

Sandy frowned, but kept pace. She didn’t know what to make of Nyxx, or anything right now. But her best friend was in danger, so she decided to at least trust him enough to help Xen.

—

The doors to the medical slid open automatically, and Nyxx paid nobody any kind as he rushed to the operating room.

Kicking the doors open, he was greeted by the scene of Tsubaki and Stein standing in the room, prepping their supplies.

“What’s the situation?” Tsubaki questioned, pulling on her white gloves.

“I think it might be an infection of some kind. Her body was set on fire as well, but it doesn’t seem to have actually burned her.” Nyxx told, burning holes at the operating table.

“Right. Set her down, please.” The woman said, gesturing to the table. “And remove the shadows.”

He obeyed, pulling back his ability and ignoring the slight drop of his heart when he saw Xen fully. She was covered in slashes, all of them dripping with blood. Every cut also had some green looking veins inching out.

“Holy shit..” Xen’s friend, who Nyxx had forgotten about, whispered. Her face was a canvas of pain, anger, and fear. “I-is she gonna be okay? She’s gonna be okay, right?”

She looked to him, her eyes glassy and tired.

“We’ll do everything we can.” Tsubaki assured, turning to her. “Nyxx, you should both go. You know my process requires complete focus.”

“Right,” He nodded, glancing to Stein who was already leaving. “You, come on.”

Nyxx gently grabbed the girl’s arm, but she ripped it away.

“What the hell?! No fucking way! I’m not leaving Xen here with some random lady! And my name is Sandy!” The girl, Sandy, shouted.

Her shoulders were tense and her eyes were blazing with anger. Before she can have another outburst, Tsubaki comes over, grabbing her attention.

“Listen, child, I know this is difficult, but you need to leave. If you want your friend, Xen? To get better, you need to let me do my job.”

Sandy stared at her, seemingly trying to decipher if there were any lies behind Tsubaki’s words. Deciding, Sandy shrugged off the other’s hands and looked away.

“Fine. But if anything happens, I’ll put all of you in the hospital instead. Understand?” Sandy threatened, deadly serious.

And, from personal experience, Nyxx really didn’t doubt her words.

“Of course. Now, out.” Tsubaki turned away, heading toward the table once more.

Nyxx followed Sandy out, shutting the doors behind him.

For about an hour, all the two could do was sit in the lobby. Waiting.

Sandy’s leg bounced and she chewed her thumbnail. Her eyes were trained on the wall opposite of her, and Nyxx could fully relate.

The unease in his mind hadn’t settled since he got there, and it was all he could do to not rip everything apart. Nyxx wasn’t sure why this was bothering him so much, he barely knew anything about Xen. But it was anyway, and he hated it. The shadows he commanded creeped around in his head, and he couldn’t control it once they started whispering.

Your fault, as usual.

How is it that one person can be so useless?

She was counting on you…

Worthless…

Once the voices started, they didn’t stop. And of course, it had to be now. When he was stuck, nobody there to shut them up. Had Ada or Red been present, they would’ve noticed immediately. They’re ways of snapping him out of it were drastically different, however. Where Red would have isolated him and calmed him down, Ada would’ve just punched him.

That conjured a better feeling, making the voices dissipate some.

It was about now that he realized someone was talking.

“..yxx? Nyxx? Hello?” The snap of fingers in his face brought him out of his haze.

He blinked rapidly, staring at the person in front of him. Sandy stood there, looking unimpressed.

“Takin’ a nap, huh?” Sandy scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Whatever.”

Slumping down into her chair, Nyxx realized just how exhausted Sandy looked. Her hair was ragged, her clothes were torn and ripped, and entire body was tense. Then, he noticed how much blood was actually covering her. And not just purple Ghoul blood.

“You’re hurt.”

“No shit, ya just figure that one out?” She arched a brow, looking at him from the corner of her eye.

He huffed, somewhat annoyed with her attitude. “You need help. Come on.” He stood up, gesturing for her to follow.

“Hell no. I’m fine and I’m staying here.” Sandy glared.

Staring, Nyxx simply picked her up and carried her to the other side of the clinic.

“What the fuck?! Put me down! Dammit Nyxx! The hell are you doin?!” She yelled, twisting around in his arm.

“Helping you.”

“Oh fuck off! Let me go!”

“Nope.”

“Nyxx!”

He arrived at the infirmary in seconds, and was greeted by the younger two of Tsubaki’s students.

“Good evening, Mr. Nyxx! How are you?” Yuki, a young girl with lavender hair, asked.

“I’m fine, she isn’t though.” He stated, pointing to Sandy, who resembled more of a dog with rabies than a human.

“Oh dear, what’s wrong?” Mio, another young girl with dark green hair and icy blue eyes, fretted.

Mio and Yuki were the youngest of the Butterfly Ladies, but they were very skilled in medicine and healing.

“She’s got a bunch of cuts and is bleeding somewhere, I believe. She’s also had a rough day, so please be gentle and patient with her.” Nyxx voiced flatly.

“Understood!” They both said in unison, standing hip-to-hip in front of him.

Slowly, he dropped Sandy from her place tucked under his arm and settled her on the floor.

“Let them help you, okay? Stress isn’t good for the body.”

Reluctantly accepting, she shot Nyxx a look before complying. “Shut up.”

Mio grabbed one of Sandy’s hands, and Yuki patted her on the back. Nyxx was surprised to see the previously rabid girl calm down, the tension in her shoulders visibly easing.

“Don’t worry Miss! We’ll take good care of you! Right Yuki?” Mio smiled, looking up at the girl.

“Yep! And you can count on us, Nyxx!” Yuki turned to him, giving a thumbs up.

He nodded, turning around and heading out of the automatic doors. With that, he was once again alone with his thoughts.

Not for long, thankfully. As soon as he reached the lobby, he spotted Dr. Stein sitting in a chair.

“Mister Stein, hello.” Nyxx awkwardly greeted.

“Heya, doin well, Nyxx?” He asked, the many stitches across his face moving as his mouth did.

“Yes sir, do you need something?”

“No, no. Just checking. You seemed really panicked when you arrived earlier, so I figured I’d check on ya. I know how your powers like to mess with your head sometimes so..” Stein explained, standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I’m okay, sir. Thanks though.” Nyxx replied, looking away.

Stein hummed, tucking a stray piece of black hair behind his ear. “Listen, kid, I don’t know why you’re so worried, but, keeping everything inside isn’t good. You know that. So, consider talking to someone, yeah? Ada or Red would do, even if Ada isn’t the best at feelings, she’d listen. Anyway, point is, talk about your feelings. Got it?”

“Yes sir.” Nyxx nodded, brushing off pretty much everything Stein said.

It didn’t matter what he did, if anyone, Red would just beat his feeling out of him. And, Red is the only person who’d actually understand. Ada would just lecture him, again.

The creak of a door opening drew Nyxx’s attention. Tsubaki came out of the room, looking a bit fatigued.

“Are you alright?” Nyxx worried, holding out a hand to steady her.

“I’m fine, Nyxx, that just took a bit more out of me than normal.”

“What’s the diagnosis?” Stein asked lazily.

Tsubaki inhaled, then began to speak. “Well, to sum it up, it seems she had some kind of ability-powered infection. It spread across her body quickly, and acted like electricity and gasoline. I assume that’s what set he body aflame, though I’m not sure why it didn’t just kill her.” Tsubaki explained, holding a hand to her chin, thinking. “I’ll have to run some tests, but for now, my power has done an excellent job at keeping her stable. She’s resting now.”

Nyxx sighed, relieved. Xen was okay. She was fine. No need to worry.

“You should get some rest, Nyxx. You’ve been pushing yourself rather hard these last couple of days, go eat something and then sleep.” Tsubaki insisted, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“No, I’m fine, really. I can stay—” Nyxx reassured, but was cut-off by the older woman.

“I’m sorry, that must’ve sounded like a suggestion. Nyxx, go eat something, take a bath, and sleep. Now. Doctor’s orders.” She smiled threateningly.

Gulping, Nyxx nodded and headed to the dorms. He may be on edge, but that was better than disobeying Tsubaki.

So, with much reluctance, Nyxx forced himself to do everything she ordered. Though his mind was strictly on Xen.

Was she really okay? Was she awake? Did she need something? Maybe he should go grab Sandy and tell her the news?

All these thoughts swarmed his head as he went along, finally reaching the bed of his dorm. Laying down, he stared at the ceiling. One of the tapestrys Ada had gifted him hung above, decorated in moon cycles and flowers. That was enough to get him to sleep, especially when his pet came in and began to snuggle.

Chimera, which was basically the same as it’s name, had the head of a lion (plus some horns), back feet of a goat, and a snake for a tail. As well as some fleshy wings that reminded Nyxx of a dragon. The little guy found a place against Nyxx’s chest, and immediately started snoring.

Nyxx huffed a laugh, pulling Chimera closer, then shutting his eyes.

—

When she woke up, Xen was instantly bothered by the amount of light on her face. Grumbling, her brows scrunched up and she squeezed her eyes closed.

“Sorry, is the sunlight bothering you?” A voice that sounded like honey asked.

Xen only nodded, not really capable of making her vocal cords work. She heard footsteps cross the room, and then the sound of curtains being pulled.

“Is that better?” The voice asked again.

Warily opening her eyes and blinking, Xen was the met with the sight of a rather comfy looking hospital room. And also, a very, very gorgeous woman.

Her black hair was tied into a bun, with two long pieces falling out and framing her face. Her eyes were a dazzling purple, and she wore a pink lab coat over a dark uniform.

Xen was in awe, just how could anybody be so beautiful?

“Pardon? Are you okay?” The woman asked again, closing her eyes with a perfect smile.

Xen nodded harshly, which spiked an intense headache. Holding her head, Xen once again heard footsteps and some clinking of objects. Then, the woman was sat on her bed.

“Here, drink this, it’s for migraines and headaches. It should make you feel much better.” She offered a cup of what seemed like pink lemonade.

She took it, drinking it carefully. It tasted like spring, and Xen wasn’t even joking.

“Good, right? I call is the Sakura Cure, named after my sister. From my own experience, taking medicine is a bit of a challenge, so I figured, why not find a way to make it enjoyable?” The woman shared, placing the cup on a across the room. “Then, I discovered that with the right sequence, I could mix flowers into the medication! That made it much easier, and I could rely less on my ability.”

Xen listened as the woman explained, not understanding a word of it but listening anyway. Ability? Flower medicine? Cool.

She decided that whatever had happened was probably fine, seeing as this lady wasn’t concerned in the slightest. But, curiosity suddenly stormed in and forced Xen to use her voice.

“What’s your name?” She asked, her tone garbled.

The woman looked to her, a bit shocked. “Ah, apologies. My name is Tsubaki, I’m the head doctor here.”

“Great, uh, where is here?”

Tsubaki chuckled, holding a hand to her mouth. “You’re at EDEN Academy, darling. We specialize in ridding the world of monsters, or, Ghouls, as we classify them.”

Xen stared in confusion, but ultimately decided on getting answers when her brain was working.

“Okay…” She slid back against the pillows, sleep overcoming her senses.

“Hm, yes, do get some rest. I’ll have Nanami bring you something to eat.”

Xen just nodded, not noticing any of changes in her body.

Like her hair, for example, which was a much brighter shade of green compared to the almost black color it was before. Her eyes were green as well, with only her pupils being dark. She also missed how much strength she gained, but she wouldn’t realize that for little while anyway.

—

HOLY SHIT THAT WAS CRAZY

Anyway, please enjoy, and stay hydrated. Don’t be like Sandy and not do the bare minimum of taking care of yourself!!

Also, ANOTHA ONE FOR MY FRIENDS @3xen and @skeletonsk1

IM WORKIN LIKE A DOG YALL

[rasoodockruka]

The smell of fresh coffee wafts up from my third cup in the last 3 hours. Before it reaches my nose, it is overwhelmed by the metallic stench emanating from the magic circle in front of me. The magic circle on my living room floor. Drawn with goat’s blood. By me. Merle would’ve been so disappointed to see our usually cozy living room now. But then again, her not being here is what started this in the first place.

None of the classical methods had worked: no demon appeared to me at the crossroads, no hag would even consider a trade. This circle would HAVE to work! I put down my coffee cup.

I take off my button-down – always take your shirt off, blood gets everywhere – and make a cut on my forearm. Only Idiots cut their palm. Take it from a former idiot. One last breath and I press my bloodstained hand on the runes. Nothing. My tinnitus sets in, a high pitched whine that wanders from my ears to my face and settles between my eyebrows. The room is a blur before my eyes. I move to wipe my eyes and as my hand leaves the bloodied mark on the floor all the air is ripped from the room. With the gulp of a gargantuan maw I am sucked violently forward, catch myself at the cusp of the circle and feel myself drawn out of my body. The draw stops abruptly and I fall back, gasping and retching into the deafening quiet. A pitch black hole is pricked into the air within the circle. While I’m still questioning my vision, it begins to grow and shake violently. Small black cracks spread out from it, branching, branching, branching until – My circle holds. The explosion inside it doesn’t melt off my skin. It only cracks my sanity a little. I don’t die from the noxious fumes that swirl around in it now. It’s almost like sitting at a campfire, enjoying the warmth it’s giving off, if it wasn’t for the sulfuric smell.

It worked! I can make out the shape of a stocky body lying in the smoke. It worked. Merle, I got you. “Merle?” I stand, groaning. A headache announces itself in the most impolite way possible. “Merle, I’m sorry I took so long, nobody – “ The person in the circle stands, dispersing the mist. It is definitely not Merle. Most definitely not human, even though it is roughly human-shaped. The stocky build is right. Our friends called us the Lumberjanes – her the lumber, me the Jane. The – thing’s – skin even has a bark-like surface, illuminated in hot reds, yellows and browns, like a log drawn out of the fireplace still smoldering under the burnt surface. Sizzling and crackling the humanoid log raises a hand to its head. At least I am not the only one with a headache. “Hey asshole!” I push myself up from the floor, a hand on the reassuring, cold wall behind me, then I stride towards the circle. I am not tall. In fact, I’m more on the small side. But that just means that my rage has less room to dull its edge before I can unleash it at someone. “Hey, I’m talking to you! You think you’re funny? I have been running around the world for the past two years, trying to track down one measly crossroads demon for a deal, nothing!” The thing has put a hand on their forehead, side-eyeing me from under it. “But when I put together a custom spell, paid for in blood and sweat and trips into the, the COUNTRSYSIDE – “ Smoldering fingers pinch a fire-hardened bridge of a nose now, as the thing turns away from me. “A spell, that was crafted SPECIFICALLY to bring MY WIFE back, I get you! A sorry excuse for a smoke-alarm’s nightmare!” “Where!” Step. “Is!” Step. “MERLE!” I stand so close to the circle’s wall that the last shout sends ripples over it. “Were there mosquitoes?” “What?” I take a step back. The log looks over its shoulder, its tar eyes fixed on me. Is there- is there amusement in its rumbling voice? “Were there mosquitoes in the ‘countryside’” It wiggles its fingers at me. “Were there – Yes of course there were fucking mosquitoes! I was itchy for days! But the mites in the tomes were worse, they – Are you laughing at me?” It is. It is fucking doubling over, shaking with laughter, guffawing. Finally it swallows one of the embers flowing from its crown and chokes on it. I lean down. “Now. What’s so funny, asshole?” “I guess, that counts as a blood sacrifice. I am so sorry Jane. You really went to the countryside for me? Away from your pristine business office?” “Hell no. I went for Merle. You is what I got.” The glorified log stands up, slowly, and comes lumbering to the circle’s edge. It lays a hand against the energy wall, causing it to hum softly. It looks at me, brown-speckled eyes flashing from under its burnt brow. “I’m sorry Jane. But your spell worked perfectly. You’re too brilliant to get it wrong, babe.” The hand on the energy wall is adorned by two rings. Our wedding and engagement rings. -------- Here's my first, very own story posted on here (Or. EVER!)! Kinda nervous, ngl. I hope you enjoy it, feedback welcome. Might be continued, idk.

It’s been 5 years since a portal to hell opened and infernal creatures dragged your spouse down in front of your very eyes. The demon before you has been trying to explain for the past hour that they are your spouse.

[einarshow]

Hi guys heres a story ive been working on

- there was supposed to be italics but i dont get that on this site.

Nilva - The last wings

Another day. Another in a string of 290 days so far since that little insignificant number changed from a 8 to 9. Today was now October 18th and also the day you were ha-HAHAHA! TODAY IS YOU WERE BORN! THE 19TH LAPSE AROUND THE SUN, CORRECT! But, that won’t really matter since you had woken up an hour late and will miss your meeting with your supplier for your shop. You finally barge out of your room hastily brushing your silvery red hair as you increasingly become more annoyed at the person ringing your doorbell. Surprisingly its just a mailman who hands you a package. Unsurprisingly it’s from Carla, your “best” friend, a gift you presume, you don’t have time for it though and you head out the door.

Soon, you arrive at Point Café, the designated meeting point between you and Daniel. If you were to describe the guy you’d say he’s very.. energetic about certain topics, and he’s clearly focused on his work. If you were actually to describe him you’d say he’s small, timid and quite jumpy, and he’s perviously told you that he isn’t good with most social interaction if its not a professional setting. You finish your internal epilogue about that wretch Daniel and enter the building swiftly searching the tables for him. As you sit down you noticed he bought you a tea, which is good since you hate coffee and the last time he ordered some for you… never-mind. Besides it seems he’s very tempered today, so you ask with a semi-gleeful tone.

“How are you today, Dans?” He shoots you a look like you had just killed his dog in cold blood when you utter the last word.

“Uh… just fine” up until now of course

“the weather has been bugging me, though. I swear it’s nonstop rain!” he stops dead in his sentence looking up at the cascading clouds of drape purples and white trickling and gleaming through the edges of the conglomerate of gray.

“We’ve ought to be cursed by a fae-“ You stare up at him and bluntly when he dares speak that last word.

“I’m sure theres just be a new thermal or possibly the gulf is heating up.” You take a sip of your tea as you watch Daniel’s reaction with your fiendish gray eyes.

“When do you want to pay for the shipment?” You answer with next Tuesday as you leave your seat placing your half-fished poorly steeped green tea on the table.

He stops you and asks you in a pleading way if you can two can meet again. You obviously hadn’t properly analyzed what he said, being in a rush to open your storefront up before 3, so you answered

“Well, I’m going to jog up in Mulberry Woods. If you can come, I’ll be there at 6,” and then you grab your bag and head out the door in a stride of sorts.

Finally you arrived at your blood-given, master crafted, beauty of a store. Your paternal grandmother opened it back in who-knows-when and named it “Grandinous” which was used to sell stolen goods that she passed off as pawns. Since then you’ve turned it into a half collection store and half thrift store, and this resulted in restoring it as a decent store to go to regularly. Daily even. Yeah, you’d say your store is doing pretty well while looking at its 15 or so foot sign sitting on top of the double doors. You gently unlock those same painted gray metal doors and stick the flimsy door stopper in the little gap. Little gaps insignificant right? Apparently they save tons, and tons, and tons, and tons of material and money yearly. Your string of strange thoughts on the economic world are abruptly interrupted as you hear the radio crackle on:

“Today marks the day the NORTH WALL has officially been breached. The Dalian of its border has ordered to kill ANY and ALL wretche-“ You quickly shut it off as your heart begins to pound. What the fuck was that

You stop in your tracks. Why would someone put that on an outdated radio—more importantly how the FUCK did this thing turn on by-itself.

Your mother taught you damn well enough to not mess with things that didn’t make sense you, rationalize to yourself while throwing the thing away besides if she was here today she’d burn the damn thing. After that moment you notice another sudden sound that feels like nails on a chalkboard to your frazzled mind.

“Oh what is it this time..” You mutter under your breath as you gently open the backdoor of your store is knocked on.

You see a truck—oh it’s Daniels company, they were just doing their job and delivering the carts you craved. The young package-person looked at your scowling expression with a look of fear in their large eyes. You must’ve been far more agressive then you thought you were..

“Sorry kid, I thought you were someone else. Do you mind helping me get these shopping carts in, err..” you speculate on the name of this individual before they interrupt your concentration with

“It’s Aleix ma’am and yes I will help in anyway I can,” they seem to almost salute before stopping themselves from completing the action like a broken action figure. It’s weird how they choice their words in that rhyme-esq. way, almost repulsively so. You remember the young chap now, they’re only 16 but are working there because of some family situation. They work hard though so it’s no wonder they are at on of the top of their field. The driver looks back at you through a strongly tinted window letting the carts roll out the back. You catch a glimpse of its vivid redish eyes before his expression shifts and suddenly he sped out of the lot with swift jagged turns like he’s escaping some sort of creature is chasing after him.

Sorry what? Does he not know he has a JOB to do… In-fact is having tinted truck windows even legal??!?!? what does he think he’s doing.

“AUGH,” You unknowingly moan aloud as little ol’ Aleix looks around, suddenly trapped at your store, with those same large eyes.

Luckily, with the help of one of the spar phone in the back, Aleix was returned to their house by their mother pretty swiftly. You continued to ponder about that red-eyed truck driver and their STUPID reaction to you. You think back on where you’ve seen him before because of the vague familiarity you sensed when thinking about him. You continue trailing off while signing recites for costumers. One of them, a small frail woman, finally strikes up a conversation.

“Do you think the invasion will make you shut down? I would’in know where else ta go for my scarfs this autumn,” So that radio’s broadcast wasn’t some sort of evil, it was a real warning in place. One you chose to ignore.

“Well, I doubt it’ll even put a dent on this old thing-“

“I guess ima lil scared for my grandkid.. he’s out fightin’ and he’s no killer. Either he’s gona get eaten or he’s gona be discharged n’ I don’t want neither of those for my boy.”

“They did order to kill, didn’t they?” You sharply acknowledge your own words. Kill.

“I say they had it damn comin’ tryna invade our land like that! But it is a lil harsh innit…? Maybe we should try ta listen to the locals on the other-side, so they overthrow those crooks, finally.”

Crooks, those people weren’t crooks they were defending themselves. Keeping their children safe. The locals are crooks then. You’re a fucking crook.

“Ahem.. $8.53 cash or card Mrs. Pérez—oh, and I’m sorry for one of your grandkids getting stranded here, it just came to mind.”

“No worries, Ally is a-okay with her momma. I’ll be comin in tomorrow, can I help ya close up like usual?”

Some time had passed and you can’t get over the command to execute anyone they thought was suspicious at the North Wall. People are so strange, exerting their own ideas unto people who can’t even express their’s. Control was never a lucky tool that humans picked up that lead to their dominance. It only meant people below them, people, were nothing to them when, infact, they could decimate them if needed. Around 370 years ago the first humans had come to this land—well not the first, many lived here even before we did but the foreigners came upon the soil and claimed it as theres. They had complete monopoly over keeping us their places. Like an invasive species they grew and grew until they were so large not even we, the gardeners, could pluck them. They stuck people who had never known each-other together like sardines and called it a commodity. They killed millions, erased our history and stole our names. Now they banished the “creatures of the wild” past a giant wall to the north, just cutting through the Rocky Mountains. Of course the different species aren’t supposed to be in that climate nor other alien specimen’s that were strange and new in every way imaginable. Britain didn’t care though so they shot us, beat us and made us nothing more than a hunting ground to them. Recently some of the stronger species among the vastly different groups decided to take it upon themselves to destroy this wall and… I can only wish the best for them.

Oh hold on. Didn’t I tell myself not to think about silly rivets of the modern era like this? Why should I worry; I’m a person, with a job, friends, hobbies and most importantly I’m not involved with this war. Once again your sudden reclamation of your own morals makes the entire topic fall far away from your conscious.

You look at the clock situated next to your tiny bed in your apartment. It’s one of those older analogue clocks so it takes you a minute to read. “4:33 am” you finally make out. FUCK! it’s 4 am. You’re supposed to get up in two hours to hike. Maybe you could just skip it? oh no, right—you told Dans that you’d go through the woods with him. He craves social interaction so of course he would be there. You think you could maybe text him to say that you’re running late but that would be you have to acknowledge you even think about him. You don’t want any wrong idea’s so, instead, you decide to get up and go to your favorite spot in the complex. You hope you slept at all this night so that you can just pass this off as waking up early. There’s this overwhelming coppery taste in your mouth and your eyes are almost glassy with your peripheral vision looking like watercolor. You now understand that you wasted an entire night of sleep to think about some conflict that cannot, will not and won’t ever affect you.

You groggily get out of your car. Your head is held low with your shaggy, usually stylized haircut, hanging over your tired eyes. Not only were you shit tired but you also got food poisoning from trying out the coffee situated within your complex’s lobby. It was terrible per the usual of coffee but even more so. You look up at Daniel stupid round face staring back at you. You wonder how he managed to get up to early and gel, comb and presumably wash his hair. Too bad his stupid haircut shows his gray hairs. You noticed it your first time meeting him as he seems relatively young, late twenties even, and he just brushes it off saying it was simply genetic. Since when has hair ever mattered to you? Dear Jinara! You must be tired. You hadn’t notice you started moving up the trail with Dans anxiously snailing behind you.

“Are you alright, Nilva? You seem off,” he sputtered out like an old engine. “Isn’t it warm this morning? you—your coat I mean,”

“What about my coat?”

“It’s awfully hefty for this climate.”

“You yourself said the weather was bad! Don’t pay any mind to my coat, Daniel.” And with that you effectively had shown how great of a companion you are. You continue trudging through the insect filled leaves. Looking back at Daniel, he seems to be looking down with his hair obnoxiously reflecting the sun into your eyes.

“So Dan—“ you begin again.

“How do you feel about those mythos at the North Wall?” His words hit you like a freight train. You sputter for a second, your back aching.

“Well, I don’t care for it. If one of them..” You become more careful with your words. “If a mythos comes to my shop I’ll take their money, K?” Daniel takes a second to register my question.

“I don’t care for them either. They’re just victims of circumstance after-all.”

VICTIMS OF CIRCUMSTANCE?? THEY’RE VICTIMS OF YOU! You hold the die here and you choose whether or not to HELP. I’m not a fucking victim of circumstance I’m a goddamn person. You hear your thoughts trail off into oblivion as you give Dans a soft smile and shake your head before continuing your trail. Noticing your discomfort Daniel peaks his head up to give another brilliant response”

“You know, I met an elf before.”

“Elf?” You suddenly are very engaged with his conversation.

“Yep! A real, genuine mythos. Her name was Luci,”

“Like an elf would give you their name!” you snicker to yourself.

“Or so she told me at least. She was taller than me and had a smile like yours—gracious perfect smile with a hooking bite that allowed me to snuggle into her. I forgot for a couple months after meeting her that she was even actively breaking the law. She was truly an enchantress of magnitudes leagues above me. Maybe that is why I fell for her but after coming to my senses I looked around and found her attempting to steal my assets in my own home. I have not seen her since and I do wish she is well even so.” It suddenly became very hard to speak in response. You stared at him with eyes that darted like the white rapids of the south.

“What did you two first talk about?” You reluctantly utter those simple sum of words.

“You.”

Chapter two - The Wall

The turrets of the planes overhead cloud your thoughts as you feel the F-35 Lightning II plummet towards the ground. You had failed your country miserably and undoubtedly will die alone in a crashed jet. You thought you would’ve been the best in your field but it was deemed you were not in this short precession of actions you had taken. Several days ago, more than you could count, you had been drafted into the Air Force because of your experience with commercial and private flying. You are a young male, barely scraping 25, and had only piloted 8 planes and co piloted 13 until you were drafted. It makes you think for s moment that maybe your gracious state has begun to cut corners before quickly burying that thought. You remember 2 years ago when you first graduated flight school with soaring colors. You weren’t very robust or commanding but you felt you were good at completing objectives. Sometimes you were worried people would judge you for your skin condition, melasma, that made you particularly displeasing to look at and thus with some irrational thinking you thought you’d never be a pilot. Luckily nobody has to see you once you’re in the cockpit. You’re considered very good looking in other aspects(and with some makeup) but people find it hard to comprehend how half of your face and left arm are specked with dark brown compared to the hazelnut skin on the rest of your body. Making matters worst your hair is only a few shades darker then your skin so it blends into your speckled areas.

Eventually, you assumed that it wont really matter much longer since once you crash all you’ll be is a pile of burned human flesh. The flashing screen in front of you barely helps as you fail to pull the idiotic jet up to prevent the crash. You cannot tell if you’re going into the ground or its coming up to you as the world around you becomes a shooting blur of warped greens and drab grays. It almost looks the same as when those space movies do a hyperdrive scene. You try to close your eyes and pretend you’re telling your family you love them before a large WACK is heard.

You open your eyes slightly to see a large tree can penetrated into the hull is inches away from your feet as the planes weight bends it downwards. You quickly unharness yourself from the gravitational death trap realizing that you only have so much time. You pop open the top and jump into a bed of twigs and leaves from the towering spruce tree. Your last memories before leaping is how the tree smelled being burned by the now pile of rubbish’s heated engine. You can remember feeling the wind blow through your neatly trimmed curly hair as you try to pull the emergency cord on your bag to activate the parachute but by the time the cord was pulled you were already only 20 to 40 feet from the ground. You moved yourself to the side seeing the parachute you pulled flapping into the wind and just holding your hands in front of your face. You’re name was Fransisco Pérez—and you won’t let this be how you die.

Suddenly you wake up in a small cot with unfamiliar, flaky, pealing walls that remind you of pre-rolled cigars but in a lighter yellow color. Wait—you’re awake! You survived the accident… and you’re thinking about the walls? You decide thats utter nonsense and attempt to look around but unfortunately notice moving your eyes gives you excruciating pain. Maybe you did die and this is purgatory? I mean you did do some awful things in your life. You killed 7 or more things during your time as a pilot, but you cant be blamed for that! You close your eyes and pretend to be asleep once more so maybe when you open them again it’ll start making some semblance of sense. Your relatively unharmed ears notice a sound though. It is like a concussion of slaps against the ground and murmurs of the present future and past. The concluding words sound something like a trombone in the voice of a person.

“Estonkon cukhayvtikv,”

“Estonkon-cukhayvtikv,” A different voice far too closer repeated in a rushed manner. Were these demons?

“Nake omv hethle?”

“Kérrvks.” You begin to wonder what they want with you as you hear them speak bluntly back and forth.

“Hacoháketv-“ You can’t stand hearing their gibberish anymore. You feel something in you cry out to do something, anything.

“Hh- who are you?!” Your voice comes out in a sharp mix of a screech and a hoarse whisper. You feel the dryness in your throat that snaps back at you like sandpaper when you dared to use your words or even dare move. A long pause that rings out eerily loud begins in procession.

“Cehecathles.” You hear the first speaker say in a harsh, brazen voice before the sound of rustling. You attempt to open your eyes once more to get a glimpse what you assume is your first(and last) of the creature who had come to sit next to you. You feel the thing sitting at the foot of your bed lean over you, its body heating your mostly frozen legs with a cold hand clasping over your orbital sockets.

“Now, don’ta go doin’ that,” You heard the beast say in almost perfect english.

“See you got somethin’ in your—uhm,”

“My other eye?..” You say in that same sort of static-y voice that reminds you of those old tv shows on VHSes that your mom would put on while she cooked. The voice went silent for a few moments before attempting at a response again.

“Yes, we woulda done something but we don’t know how yer eyes work. It ain’t like ours. We know that you got information too or we never had taken ya in otherwise.”

“Human eyes don’t get fixed with—” You begin gasping realizing the sudden pain in your eye has tripple ten fold. You attempt a scream but it comes out in a dry gurgle of your own dead skin and spit washing down your cracked throat. You feel as if you are crying out of the incapacitated eye but you realize in horror as your eyes shoot open that your bleeding out of it with it fucking trickling down into the Sahara that as once your throat. The worst part was you had never felt such greater relieve than having some sloshy warm fluid slide down into your gullet. You don’t have to shift your eyes to see that face thats mutilating you because luckily it had the pleasure to peer directly into your eyes.

It looked like a serpentine of sorts with jaded and jagged scales highlighting what you assume is the check bone in snake terms. Its elongated neck writhed as it worked on your probably now dead eyeball. You could not yet see its full head but you did she its underbelly that happened to have a pattern of light sandy-brown scales and darker coinciding sleek scales underneath the previous going back and forth until it reached the end of the length. The under scales also happened to have a triangular motion to it making them look sharp and menacing that made you think of basic melee sword’s blades. Its main body was presumably just a deep, drab brown with no real pattern. You heard a light swishing sound like that of a babies rattle just to realize it was the creatures tail intentively going back and forth in some sort of concentration. You realize the sound originated from the left of your head. IT WAS USING ITS TAIL TO FIX YOUR EYE? You become enraged with all little hope you had for this place quickly vanishing as you try to move your legs, arms ANYTHING really but you cannot make a single move. The blinding pain prevents you from contracting a single muscle as you lie there motionlessly in a true state of absolute torment.

[romanoffsbish]

Stepping Into the Light

WandaNat x Fem!Reader

Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Soooo, I’d been watching Ghost Whisperer while writing my fics, and as I neared the end I decided a crossover fic could be fun.

Warnings: Violence, Death, Grief | 4,955 Words

Melinda had made the travel to the Big Apple with her husband Sam—Jim—and son Aiden in hopes of experiencing a good natured vacation. So, when she approached the cute coffee shop and saw you pacing outside of it she was a bit devastated, because of course you'd be here. Nobody dies the way you did, being who you were, and passes without unsaid goodbye's.

———————————————

You'd been outside this coffee shop all day, waiting for Wanda and Natasha to finally show. It was your weekend tradition to meet here at 9AM, enjoy pastries, while sipping on your differing beverages, and talking about any and everything until splitting come afternoon time to get back to work.

It's already 3PM though, so you're growing a bit concerned at their lack of arrival. You're not stupid, you know you're dead, but that doesn't mean you'd expect them to break these sort of traditions though. You'd already suspected you were dead, because all you can remember is their angry faces as you left them, then Clint's full of fear before everything suddenly blurs. Then, after the fight you saw the two engaged in last night in your shared home your suspicions had been all but confirmed.

Your inability to be heard, and Wanda's "She's dead because of us Natasha! Just more red to add to our already dripping ledgers!," when you found you couldn't hold Natasha as she cried herself to sleep with a big bottle in her hand you knew it was you being referenced... You don't even know why you thought you could do anything if they had showed up, just more of that reckless optimism of yours, the same bit that got you into this mess anyways...

Melinda sighs, texting her husband that they'll want to extend their trip because she has some work to do, and he knowingly responded with wishes of good luck, and so she approached you with no hesitation whatsoever. You'd saved the world countless times, so saving your soul was certainly a cross she didn't mind baring.

Your senses were on overload when you saw a brunette woman sitting at a table sipping her tea, staring as if she could see you, and not through you liked everyone else had so far. Subtly she nodded towards an alleyway, and you found yourself there in a blink of an eye.

"Who are you?" Melinda simply smiled at you, completely understanding you're on edge, "Well, I'm Melinda Gordon—." Your eyes widened when she actually responded to you., "You can see me then? How is that possible?"

"So, you know you're dead, that's a good start. Most ghosts I encounter don't have it all put together yet, but you seem to. Tell me Y/N, do you see a light? Is it calling to you?"

"What fucking shit is this? Do I see a light? This is New York, there are lights everywhere!" Melinda snickers at your little outburst, "That's a fair point, but that's not what I'm referencing. My purpose here is to get you crossed over, and into the light, but it's clear you can't see it."

"I can't cross over!" Melinda sighs, "You have to, there's no place left for you here, but can you tell me why you can't leave?" You drop your gaze to the ground., "I can't leave them..."

"The Avengers?" You shake your head., "No, well kind of—Natasha and Wanda, I can't leave them without making sure they'll be okay..." Melinda hums, curious brown eyes urging you to elaborate further, because the world had always been a bit unclear on your relationship, and that's exactly how you'd all wanted it.

"They're my girlfriend's, and they're not doing too well. We kinda got into a huge fight before I died, I never got to say goodbye, and I think they blame themselves for my death..."

"Why would they blame themselves?" Melinda inquires, looking for the full picture before she attempts to approach the intimidating women., "Well, you see, I'd wanted us to retire..."

~———————~•~_~•~———————•

Natasha's incredulous laughter filled the room, billowing off the walls and assaulting your ears and heart all in one go., "You can't be fucking serious right now Y/N! We have an innate responsibility to the world to continue on protecting it! So no, we can't just retire and live out your happy little fantasies."

"But...," Wanda cut you off, "Look Y/N/N, Natasha is right, eventually we can have all those things, but to do it now would just be irresponsible, and frankly a bit childish." Nodding, you wiped away your tears, then left them alone in your shared bedroom, not all that interested in hearing them out as they called out for you to come back and talk.

If you're childish for wanting to finally live a free, happy life then you might as well fit yourself to the title...Which is exactly what you did by accepting Fury's no contact mission without even a proper goodbye to the women who'd held your heart for nearly a decade...

"Dear W & N,

I am sorry for my previous comments, you're right, what was I thinking... The world will forever need us, so just forget my silly dream. I'll be back in a weeks time, Fury asked me if I'd be able to accept this off grid mission, and who would I be to say no?

A selfish child is what, so of course I took it.

I love you both with all my heart, sorry I missed you before take off, but hey, maybe it was for the best that it worked out this way. Giving you both the space you needed.

Love Y/N—Forever & Always 💋"

Unknowingly though, you were sealing your tragic fate by running from the pain...

~———————~•~_~•~———————•

Melinda takes a moment to hear you out, and she can't help but feel there's pieces left to uncover, but her attempts were soon thwarted., "I'm, I'm not sure what's happening, but I have to go..." You suddenly announce, Melinda's calls ignored as you blinked yourself out of the alley, and then found yourself at Clint's farm. Melinda groaned when you disappeared, then she set off in search of anything that could lead her to your lovers, hopes to have you crossed over by dinner dwindling as she trudges back to at least get a coffee to go.

—

Clint was a wreck when you found him sat in the barn, his clothes were tattered, flashes of him in the same articles runs through your mind. As you inched closer you saw the mess that had become of the man, and your heart ached; alcohol bottles littered the entirety of the barn, and his loud sniffles were persistent.

"Natasha, please, just call me back... I'm sorry, It-It was all my fucking fault, I'm so sorry...," His words throw you off, a sudden pain in your abdomen emerges and you drop to your knees before him. The shiner, and split lip far too familiar to you, and when you tried to reach for him you were thrown into a memory.

~———————~•~_~•~———————•

"Come on Y/N! It can't be that bad, I'm sure it'll blow over by the time we get back." The archer tries to keep the stakeout lighthearted, but your frown only deepens as he speaks., "No, Clint, after these last few days I still want the same things, to retire and start a family. I'd even be willing to stay home alone, but they dismissed me so quickly it seems I'm on my own either way."

"Y/N, your story isn't the same as theirs, you'd always been a hero, even when they tried so hard to make you a monster. Both Natasha and Wanda succumbed to those individuals, and now they live their life making amends." You shake your head in anger, "To survive! They're not monsters Clint.,"

He nods, "I know that, but deep down they refuse to believe it, and so this hero mumbo jumbo is to put it simply, is their repentance.," You get it., "Still, they had no right to crush your dreams, I think if you'd all just sit down, and express your fears that it will all work out, because they love you more than you seem to give them credit for."

His calloused thumb wipes away at the fallen tears on your face, a smudge of dirt left in its place, and then his sympathetic smile falls., "It's just dirt Cli—.," He wasn't fast enough, "Y/N! Get up, we have to go now!"

You couldn't hear his pleas, mind entirely too focused on the blinding pain searing through your abdomen, and spreading throughout., "Y/N/N, please, you need to get up...," the wet, hot tear hitting your face slowly coaxes you back from your stupor, you finally see Clint's face has been brutalized, and that his hands were covered in blood, looking down you quickly realize it's your own.

His broken gaze telling you what you already know, you're not going to make it, but he'll be damned if he just accepts that to be true., "Clint, you ne-need to go before more come.," He scoffs, "I'm not leaving you behind Y/N, now get up! or better yet..." He manhandles your dying form into his own, then takes off in a sprint, your weak pleas for him to stop falling on deaf ears, and surprisingly he makes it back to the safe house unharmed.

He lays you on the couch, ignoring your calls for his name as he searches for the first aid. With all your strength you shout, "Clint!" Finally, he looks to you, whimpering once he takes in your state, no amount of wound stuffing or stitching will do; you were a goner from the start, and now he had to face it.

"It's okay Clint, it's not your fault." You offer the man the kindest smile you could muster, and he falls to his knees besides the couch., "They're not going to be okay Y/N... This is going to ruin them...,"

"Don't let it, they deserve to be happy Clint, and when they're ready, please give them the rings I left at your barn for safe keeping."

"You can't go, it's not your time yet Y/N/N." Clint pleads, his strong hand gripping at yours., "It seldom ever is in our line of work Barton, now, dry your tears... I lived a good life, and I'm not afraid to die... Tell them, that I loved them with all of my heart, and I'm sorry we didn't get to say our goodbye's..."

"Tell them yourself.," You sigh., "I love you Clint, don't be so sad buddy, just go live..." Clint sobs as your hand falls limp in his hold, and your chest collapses for the final time...

~———————~•~_~•~———————•

"No, don't tell her that! It's not true..." You scream into the void, then when you blink you're back in your own house.

It's silent, breaking your heart as you remember the days when all it was filled with was laughter. Your attention quickly pulls from your fond memories when you hear a squeak upstairs, and you follow the sound to a door. Natasha's office, and so you make your way in through the cracked door to find her sat in her chair with a distant look in her eyes.

The voicemail Clint left replaying, and after the third loop she throws her phone at the wall, and reaches for her gun safe, an unsettling look on her face as she throws back the last of her drink and jumps to her feet., "I'm going to fix this lyubov'..." and your soul effectively cracks when she exits the office, and then the house.

—

Melinda's need to get her coffee doubled in her favor, because in the far back booth she managed to spot the famed Wanda Maximoff. The blue hoodie not disguising her as well as she thought it was, and so the woman took the calculated risk of sitting before her.

"No autographs, no photos, please just leave.," She immediately mutters, voice cracking as if she'd been crying, and the tracks on her face confirm the obvious., "I'm not here for any of that.," Wanda looks up to the woman, anger surging through her as she'd made no move to leave., "Well, whatever it is you are looking for, I'm not buying, so leave, I won't ask again.

"I'm here on behalf of your girlfriend.," Wanda scoffs, "Tell Natasha that if she wants to talk, she can use the cell phone.," Melinda sighs, a twinge of fear settling within her as she speaks., "No, I'm here on behalf of Y/N." Wanda's eyes redden at the mention of you, like bringing you up is some sick game to this stranger, but then something about the woman sat before her seems oddly familiar, and then her knowing about your relationship told her to at least hear her out.

"I'm not here to hurt you Wanda, but Y/N needs you and Natasha to help her cross over." Wanda's face scrunches as her words register., "Why would I want that? For her to move on?" Melinda quirks a brow, "It's what's best for her, she can't remain earthbound, and she won't leave until you and Natasha are okay."

"Okay?! I'll be okay when she's back in our bed!In my arms, safe and sound!" Wanda shouts in bewilderment., "Only then will we be okay..."

"Melinda! We have to go! Natasha is about to do something really stupid, please help..." Melinda's attention is drawn away from Wanda's outburst as you suddenly appear beside their table., "Y/N, slow down, and tell me exactly what's happening."

"Y/N's here?," Wanda whispers, and your eyes move over to view her, soul breaking at her hunched form, but you can't dwell right now., "Clint, she is going after him, she thinks it's his fault, but it's not, we need to fucking hurry." Melinda turns to Wanda who's already staring at her expectantly., "She said we need to hurry, Clint's in danger, and that Natasha blames him, but that it's not his fault."

"Y/N, baby? Are you really here, please, I..." Wanda panics, "Tell her to count to cats.," Melinda, albeit confused, nods., "Wanda, we don't have much time, she said for you to count to cats..."

~———————~•~_~•~———————•

Wanda had just returned from the worst day, she'd gone grocery shopping on her own, and while out there she was beyond overwhelmed. Natasha was out of town, and you were busy so she thought she could do it all by herself. Turns out she was wrong, now she's sat on the kitchen floor in a fit of tears, hyperventilating as she relives the dreadful hour over and over.

You were peacefully working on your overdue paperwork upstairs when you heard a loud thump downstairs, and then the next moment you're running down with your gun in hand. Quick to be placed on the counter as all you find is your girlfriend in a heap on the floor.

"Oh baby, what's going on?," Wanda just continues to shake, unable to answer you. "Wanda, I need you to calm down, I-um, can you count to.." You briefly got distracted at the sight of a stray black fur-ball on the window, "...cats for me?"

Wanda's breath gets caught in her throat at your ridiculous request, her previous panic replaced with concern for you., "Y/N, what are you—." She follows your gaze over to the window, and she chuckles at just how easily distracted you are., "Detka, how are you even an Avenger?," she laughs out, and you smile at the perfect sound of the successfully calmed down Wanda.

~———————~•~_~•~———————•

She smiles sadly, "Liho misses you...," Wanda then takes a steadying breath, slowly she stands up, and silently commands Melinda to follow her as they make their way to the farm, and you instantly blink your way back there.

Natasha is standing outside of the barn doors, "Natasha, I know you're there.," Her entire body stiffens as the man who was once her safety net speaks, then she's kicking the door in, and raising her weapon to his forehead., "Natasha, no, at least not here..."

"No! Not ever!!" You shriek into the void, she cocks the gun and shoves the muzzle into his skin., "Don't worry, I'll clean it up before Laura and the kids could find your pathetic body!" She pistol whips him instead, then once he's on the ground she straddles him, and replaces the gun against his head., "Tell me Clint, why did she die?! You are the fastest archer alive, how'd they manage to get the shot before you?!"

"He was distracted..." You whimper, once again to no one in particular, Clint then also explains, "I was distracted... She had been crying, and I wanted that to stop, so I tried to help her through her crisis, but it was a dumb choice because it cost her life..." his sobs break you, but you notice that they only further piss off the heartbroken woman.

You flinch when you hear the slide of the gun draw back, Natasha's hardened expression telling you she'd agreed with him, this was his fault, but you knew deep down she was just looking for a person to blame, for a reason. This emerging idea that you had died over such a silly fight was far too much for her to bare; if you didn't stop her you knew she'd regret this.

Wanda and Melinda were taking too long, so just as Natasha was about to pull the trigger you'd managed to fly the pistol out of her hand.  "What the fuck was that?!" She screeches, jumping off the man to recollect her weapon, but you manage to toss it away once again., "Wanda! If this is you knock it off! Someone needs to fucking pay for this!"

It takes nearly everything in you, but you had managed to disassemble the pistol, scattering the pieces all over the barn, and leaving both Clint and Natasha with their mouths agape. Wanda was clearly nowhere in sight, and her characteristic red tendrils weren't present, so both of them were a bit freaked out.

"Natasha, I'm not sure what happened, but all I know is that Y/N didn't want this... She —.," He's cut off almost instantly by a harsh slap, "Don't you dare fucking speak for her Barton! All I know is that it should've been you!" Helplessly you'd watched as she tackled him back onto the floor, pounding her fists into his chest, and crying out, "It should've been you!" repeatedly. Clint accepted the punches, he almost looked relieved as if he accepted this to be a suitable punishment for his "wrongdoing."

Melinda and Wanda ran into the barn, your eyes locked onto the medium's, and she sent your distraught face a sympathetic smile. "Natasha! Get off of him!," Wanda shouts, using her powers she pulls the woman back., "No! Let me go! I-I, Y/N's gone, and it's his fault! He even fucking said it was...,"

"Tasha, it was none of your fault!" You shout, and Melinda steps forward., "Who are you?!," Wanda answers her distraught girlfriend., "Nat, meet Melinda Gordon, she can speak to the dead, and she's here because of Y/N/N." Natasha laughs incredulously, "Yeah fucking right! Who sent you? How much? Does it make you feel good to prey on the heartbroken?"

Melinda doesn't even flinch as the redhead approaches her, and it's then you realize this woman has for sure seen some shit., "Tasha, she's not lying, I-I can feel her here, and she needs us.," Natasha scoffs, "Yeah? Well what about me? Us? We fucking need her, and she just left! Our last memory of her being a fight that never should have fucking happened... That petty little note is all we have left of her." the assassins voice breaking off as she begins to settle into the sadness consuming her.

"The rings..." Melinda looks up at you, and you gesture to the battered archer on the ground. "Clint is it? Y/N said something about rings." Clint's eyes widen at the piece of information, staggering as he gets up, wordlessly he exits the barn, and Natasha just shakes her head in disbelief.

"The rings." She mocks the woman, "That's a textbook piece of information to infer, you could at least try fucking harder here Melissa."

"Oh, I do not like the way this is making you act one bit, what happened to my sweet girl?," Melinda solemnly watches as you trail your ghostly fingers across the woman's cheek adoringly, repeating your next words verbatim., "Ya tebya lyublyu, my Tasha Bear..."

~———————~•~_~•~———————•

Out of the three of you, it had been assumed that you were the cuddliest, and that Wanda would come in as a close second, but nobody was ready for the truth... Natasha Romanoff, the deadly reformed assassin, had to be the most clingy person you'd ever met when she was comfortably behind closed doors, and she was truly the most adorable too.

"Y/N/N... I want to cuddle!!!," She whines, you expertly move around her in favor of the bench press, but the woman simply follows., and as soon as you laid on your back her front was flush against your own.

"I just love you so much, and you're so warm, and soft... Perfect cuddle partner, even better than Wanda honestly..." She tiredly murmurs against your chest, the rise and fall as you continue your reps, paired with your grunts somehow lulling the woman to sleep.

You chuckle, racking the bar back onto the rungs, and settling a kiss to her temple, Natasha reflexively smiles, pushing herself even further into you, and as effortlessly as possible you manage to get up, carrying the sleepy woman back up to your bedroom, and settling her atop the sheets. Her hands holding onto you ever so tightly so you won't leave, "Ya tebya lyublyu, my Tasha Bear...," You giggle out against her forehead, placing a few gentle pecks to her skin before allowing her the space to overtake your body.

•———————~•~_~•~———————•

"What was that?..." Natasha's voice cracks, tears falling down her face in quick succession as your words crack open the floodgates., "She's here.," Wanda reconfirms, pulling her lover into her arms, and consoling her as best she can while she herself breaks down.

"Please tell them that I'm sorry, it was never supposed to turn out like this. Tell them that I want them to find happiness, and to never give up on our dreams. It's okay to keep Avenging for awhile, but they need to eventually retire, and start on the life we all had dreamed of. That I understand why they were scared, and they need to know that I'm not mad anymore. Lastly, that it's okay to move on without me, and that I can't wait to see them being mom's."

"She's sorry...," Wanda instantly throws her hand up, "No, please don't apologize lyubov', we're the ones who are sorry... All you wanted was to talk about our future, and we just shut you right down, it wasn't right.."

"She said it's okay, and that she understands you were both just scared, but that she also hopes you'll live out the dream anyways, because you two not being mama's would be a crime to the world." Natasha sobs., "We can't live that life without you Y/N/N, it wouldn't be right to bring a kid into the world without you."

Clint re-emerges into the barn, two velvet boxes in hand as he takes tentative steps towards the tearful couple on the ground. Gently he hands them over, the green box to Wanda, and the red to Natasha, along with a folded up piece of paper, he then moves to leave again, but Melinda grips his shoulder to stop him.

"Y/N wants you all to listen now, this man is innocent, if anything she likens him to a victim. He'd been nothing but good to her the whole time they were away, and his heart was in the right place when he consoled her that night. The mission went South, and the only one at fault was the man who shot her, that Clint then brutally handled, justice came quick for her. Let it go, heal from this, and forgive yourself."

Clint slips out right after she speaks some hopeful peace to him, and you kneel beside your lovers as they open their respective rings., gasps of total shock fall from their lips at the sheer size of the rocks on the unique bands, and you smile when you see the love in their eyes shining bright as they slip the rings onto one another's fingers, then Natasha opens your letter, and begins to read it aloud.

"To my Dearest W & N.,

If you're reading this then it means I'm gone, and I'm so incredibly sorry for that my loves. Nevertheless, I had some big plans for us, and I write to you in the hopes that when you're both ready, you'll go out there and truly fucking live. Travel the world freely, without the obligations of being an Avenger, buy that cabin in the woods of Norway, and adopt a fur sibling, or maybe even a human one for Liho, I can tell he's getting lonely.

Whatever you do, please don't give up on each other, or let the grief of my untimely death consume you wholeheartedly. You're stronger than that my angels, and I know you'll be okay.

Please, do come find me in the afterlife, and when you do we'll have our most perfect union. We'll dance for hours under the clear skies of our personal Heaven, and I promise I'll never let go of your hands ever again.

With all my love, Y/N Maximoff-Romanoff

P.S. I really hope I'm right in assuming you two would've said yes...

P.S.S. If you ever loved me, you will NOT let Tony memorialize me in statue form, we all know he'll give me tits the size of watermelons, and an ass bigger than Texas... I just can't go out like that, I beg of you..."

Natasha wipes her tears with the back of her hand, clutching your paper close to her chest., "Are you stupid? Of course I'd fucking say yes," Wanda playfully slaps her shoulder, "Y/N, I'd say yes to you in any realm of the multiverse, I promise we'll travel detka, and Liho will indeed have siblings..."

Melinda smiles when she sees the peace washing over you, "You three shared a love that most could only dream of having experienced, and I'm truly sorry that it ended the way it did.," You smile over the woman's shoulder as you stood up., "That's the light right?," She shrugs, "I can't see it, only you can.,"

"What's happening?" Natasha asks in a slight panic., "She's ready to crossover."

"Wait, detka..." Wanda cries out, "I want to try something.," Melinda extends her hand out when she sees Wanda's inquisitive glance, and with the use of her magic she's able to connect with the medium, your ghostly form becoming visible to her, and she nearly collapses when she sees your beautiful smile from the side after two long months of deprivation.

"Detka... I-I can see you...," She sobs, and you turn to face her fully, smiling bright as you do., "Oh Wands, don't cry.," You plead tenderly, hand reaching out to stroke her tear stained cheek, and she gasps at the feeling of you., "Nat, come here.," She scurries over, fingers intertwining with the witches, and as she blinks her eyes back open her vision is filled with you.

"My beautiful girls, I love you so very much.," your hands cup one cheek each as you guide their foreheads to meet, laying yours against there's and sighing at the familiar touch., "You'll be okay, I promise, and so will I..."

"What's it like detka?," Natasha inquires with a saddened, but nonetheless reassuring smile.

"It's warm, bright, and so inviting, and Wands, I-I can see Pietro, he's waving me down..." Wanda beams as you mention her late brother, you'd only met once, but she wouldn't expect any less of him to be waiting for you in the light. It's funny, he'd called your relationship before you or Natasha were even on good terms with her, "Trust me sestra, it will happen...," and happen it did, he just wasn't there to see it.

"Give him a big hug for me moya lyubov'.,"

"Until we meet again my loves.," You bid a final farewell, gently kissing their foreheads, and then their lips before turning to Melinda., "Thanks again Melinda, you gave my girls the necessary peace, and helped me find my own.," The woman winks., "All in a days work."

You walk away, all three woman watching intently, you turned to smile at them all once more, then you slowly disappeared as you crossed on over and through the bright light, "Thank you..." Melinda nods, then leaves the women behind in the barn, taking off in her rental, and praying to have a far less eventful day tomorrow...

Wanda and Natasha slept in the barn that night, riding out the high that seeing you for a final time gave them, and brainstorming where they'd be headed off to first as Fury blew up their phones, "This is no time to quit...," Frankly, they disagreed, this is as good a time as any to start their life together, the spark you'd reignited shining bright within their hearts...

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