#i took the stupid little graphics out the second after i put them in

[americas-ass-writing]

Written in the stars

Steve Rogers x reader

Words: 2.7k

Summary: The internet was a wonderful, helpful thing until it wasn't. Until one misstep, one accident gets spread around and ruins your life. Or does it lead you where you're meant to be?

Warnings: none? Stan Lee cameo maybe, me sucking at writing dialogue

A/N: This was written for @lunarbuck Soulmate Au Writing Challenge! I had the prompt "You and your soulmate share matching tattoos." I hope you enjoy it!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Gif by me

The sound of rain against your window is the first thing you register as you wake up. The sounds of your street in New York slowly adding themselves in. You let out a yawn and stretch. These were the best days. Waking up to the rain serenading you on your day off. You have nowhere to be, no plans, just a day for yourself. So you lay in bed a bit longer, just listening to the sounds.

Once you get up, you start your day. A nice warm shower, comfy clothes and breakfast with your favourite tea. Your phone dings with the daily reminder of your best friend to leave your apartment today so you'd have a chance finding your soulmate. You roll your eyes. She found hers in high school - lucky bitch. The matching tattoo of a weird shaped heart, that to you looked more like a bean, on her ankle sealed her fait to the high school jock. You were scared for her at first but he turned out to be the best partner she could ever have wished for. You on the other hand weren't so lucky. The little star constellation on your shoulder blade hasn't met it's match yet and you weren't sure if it ever would. With a sigh you put down your mug and text her back, promising you'd leave the house if the rain stopped.

The internet was a wonderful, helpful thing until it wasn't. Until one misstep, one accident gets spread around and ruins your life.

Steve was always good at hiding his soulmate mark. Back in the 40s when he was sickly he partially did it because dressing warm enough prevented him from getting sick and to protect whatever dame had the matching mark on her shoulder from having him as soulmate. As soon as he became Captain America he solely did it so no one would lead him on by pretending to be his soulmate. He was glad his soulmark was on his shoulder blade, easy to hide under the shirts he wore. Even though he was hiding it he couldn't help the disappointment that in all his years on this planet he hasn't even had a slightest tickle of the feeling of his soulmate being close to him.

But then his years of hiding were ruined by a very public mission. He was doing his best to lead his team and make sure they were all safe. He was in his element until a Hydra agent attacked him with a knife. This happened way too often these days and every time Howard Stark's voice mocks him in his mind. "Hydra won't attack you with pocket knives." Yeah right.

Steve was quick to react and instead of stabbing him in his shoulder all the attacker did was rip open his suit. This shouldn't happen this easily, maybe it wasn't a common pocket knife and Howard was right after all. Steve knocked him to the floor and made sure the man was unconscious. He didn't even think twice about the rip in his suit before he went back to the mission. He should have... He should have took a damn second to check then he wouldn't be stuck in the Tower.

The rip exposed his soulmark. And of course some onlooker took a picture that spread like wildfire on the internet. Promptly the Tower was overrun by people claiming they're his soulmate. His morning runs through central park were turning into him being hunted down by them too.

When the first woman came he had hope. He really thought that maybe, just maybe the stupid mistake would bring him his soulmate but the feeling never came... Nothing ever snapped into place. He didn't have the feeling.

His soulmark soon graced the shoulder blades of thousands of people like some stupid fashion accessory which caused him to swear off his soulmate and accepted a life of being alone. He just hoped that this hype around his mark would soon die down.

His fists hit the punching bag in front of him hard. The bag swinging back and forth wildly as he tried to let his pent up anger out. His usual sparring partners tapped out a few days ago since he got too cruel during it, not pulling his punches anymore. He understood, he didn't want to hurt them but he couldn't help himself but be disappointed. Those social interactions flew out the window too which didn't help him with feeling so alone.

"We gotta get him out of the tower... He's been cooped up for two weeks now." Natasha mumured to the fellow assassin next to her as they both watched their friend. "Sam and me tried... Either we get overrun immediately or he refuses to leave the tower." Bucky answered, his arms crossed. He felt for his friend, he deserves to find his soulmate and live happily ever after with them. "Maybe we can fly him out to Clint's farm?" He added only to be met with a snort of the redhead next to him. "Yeah he'd love that. Clint would make him take care of the chickens. Imagine all the pictures of him and Cap Jr." She smirked at the image of Steve holding up his chicken counterpart in several pictures.

Just as Bucky was about to answer their little conversation got interrupted by the bag hitting the floor and Steve marching or rather stomping off to get a new one.

"I have a plan to buy you guys some time" the redhead said after a moment of silence and beckoned her friend to follow her.

Picking at his cap and the borrowed clothes, Steve sends Nat a sceptical look. "This isn't going to work..." He sighs and sits down. His face falls into the palms of his hands. Soon enough there are soft strokes on his back. "Yes it will work. You just gotta be positive for once, Rogers" she says with an encouraging smile. "Sam and Bucky are currently distracting the masses, making them fill out forms so you can find your soulmate. All you gotta do is take the back exit and vanish into the crowds. It's a simple mission." Nat ever the optimist. There was so many things that could go wrong with this plan. Steve lifts a sceptical eyebrow at her.

"Look it's either this or Bucky's plan that involves a horrible granny dress and a wig. So choose your poison, Cap" she smirks at his furrowed eyebrows and claps on his shoulder. "That's what I thought. Let's get you out of here." With a smile she beckons him to follow her. They walk through the hallways and take the stairs down to the lobby. Instead of taking the usual door Natasha leads him around the corner and through some storage rooms before they stop in front of a door.

"Alright, sunglasses on. I texted you the code to get back into this door but I expect you to not use it before lunchtime." Like a mother scolding her child she points a finger at him. "The door leads to the back alley. The security guard has been informed that you'd take this way so no need to worry. Just make a swift exit from the alley into the crowds. Keep your head down, cap and sunglasses on, ok?" Steve nods at that and hugs her. "Thank you" he whispers and before she can answer he slips out of the door.

He nods to Stan the security guard, a nice old man that he often talked about art with, and slips out of the alley into the masses. To his surprise everyone's minding their own business and soon he's a block away from the tower. His shoulders relax and he lets out a breath. The rain probably helped him stay unrecognised.

Much to your dismay the rain stops after a few hours and you have to keep your promise. You sigh and get dressed to leave your apartment. Maybe a coffee in the park wouldn't be so bad. The park near your apartment always was empty on rainy days, except for a few people walking their dogs. So you could still enjoy your day without too many people around you. Once you're all dressed you grab your bag and an umbrella, just to be safe, before you leave. Your feet carry you to the little cafe at the end of your street. You weren't surprised with how busy it was. People would come here to escape the cloudy skies, to study, to meet others or to simply just get coffee. You weren't bothered by the masses though since it was your plan all along to get your order to go and sit in the park.

With your drink and snack in hand you enter the park a little while later. It wasn't big but still beautiful. You make your way to your favorite spot, a little bridge over the lake that housed two benches. It was a quiet and beautiful spot and you're were sure no one would hog the benches today. Well you were wrong. As you approach you see one of the benches taken by a tall stranger with a sketchpad. He seemed relaxed as his hand moved the pencil over the paper. His cap and hunched over form hid his face from your view but you didn't mind. Something inside you told you he was safe and even pulled you a bit closer to him. It's a weird feeling but you chalk it off to the two of you just doing the same thing - trying to enjoy the silence in the park.

You sit down on the bench across from him and take in the nature. You don't even notice his surprised face when he looks up and sees someone across from him. Or when he absent mindly scratches his shoulder. Or when his lips pull into a small smile at the added person in his sketch. You sit in silence for a while, trying to ignore your itchy shoulder, occasionally stealing a glance of the handsome stranger until he stands up and approaches you. Your heart beats faster as you look up at him. Why was he approaching you? Was he not the nice strange...

"Here..." He holds out a piece of paper to you with a soft smile on his face. Fuck even his voice was handsome. You hesitate for a second before you softly take it from him, which just makes his smile grow wider. Your eyes land on his sketch of the park... the lake, the trees, the flowers and you... You on the bench with your drink in hand, smiling as you take in the nature. It's breathtakingly beautiful. Your surprised eyes find his and you're met by a bashful smile. "I uh... It's a thank you..." He scratches his neck, his face blushing as he tries to avoid your eyes. "A thank you?" You ask confused, the small itch in your shoulder growing. You look up at him. Why would he thank you for sitting across from him?

"Yeah... The last week's... Have been crazy and you're the first person who treats me... normal?" He fumbles with his hands as your confusion just grows, brows knitted together. "My soulmark was released to the public after a mission and so many people got it as a tattoo and they hunted me down on my jogs and they waited for me everywhere and I was stuck in the tower and my friends wouldn't even spar with me and I felt so alone and when I was finally able to sneak out and spend some time outside you didn't even lift an eyebrow at Captain America sitting across from you so thank you" he rambles and your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. You didn't even recognize him. Not in casual clothes that seem a bit too big for him. He nervously fumbles with his hands again at your silence. "I..." "See I even signed it. If you don't want to keep it you can sell it" as he tries to point out his signature he grazes your hand with his fingers and both of you wince. The blinding pain in your shoulder was gone within a second but it was replaced with warmth. As your eyes meet his you realize it wasn't just you who feels it. His hand is still on his shoulder as he looks at you with wide eyes and his beautiful lips apart.

"Please tell me you felt that too..." He whispers, his voice almost breaking. You nod as answer and continue to stare at him. He lets his hand fall and gets on his knees in front of you, his eyes stare in yours so desperate you want to wrap him up in a hug and blanket and protect him from the world.

"I didn't even recognize you" is all you bring out and he laughs. A beautiful melodic laugh as his hands softly grab your free one. Thousands of little butterflies spread in your body, the tingly sensation wandering through you until it reaches your soulmark. "I'm pretty sure you have a little constellation of stars on your shoulder" the blonde still kneeling in front of you says with a smile that's brighter than the sun. You chuckle and bite your lower lip. "What makes you think so?" You tease. He licks his lips and squeezes your hand softly. "Because I have the same" he whispers as if it's a secret for just the two of you and maybe just maybe it would be if he would have used his brain a few weeks back.

You stare at each other for a while longer till the rain starts again. "Shoot! I have a cap you can wear uh..." The Adonis in front of you gets up and hurries over to his bench to get his things. You chuckle as he comes back and pull out your umbrella. "We can just share this and sit for a while longer" you suggest as you open it. He stops for a second but then smiles easily as he plops down next to you and offers to hold it.

You spend the afternoon talking, smiling and laughing. The conversation flowed easy and Steve even gave you a peek at his mark which was to no one's surprise the one you have too. Thus followed a lot of star related jokes from Steve. You laughed at every adorable pun and that seemed to spur him on even more. His eyes shining brighter with every laugh or giggle you gifted him, almost like the star littered night sky was trapped in them.

When the sun started to set Steve walked you home. He insisted that he did so because he wanted to make sure you're safe. You agreed, that was obviously the reason. Not the two of you wanting to spend more time together. And him holding your hand obviously was for keeping you safe too. And the kiss that you pressed on his lips when you arrived was definitely just a thank you. And the promise to see each other again after exchanging numbers was just part of your extensive security plan.

Steve slips into the tower through the door in the alleyway. He smiles at Stan before he takes the stairs, two steps at a time. He has never felt this happy and carefree before. He found his soulmate and you were the most beautiful and kind and amazing human being he knows. As he enters the common area he finds Bucky and Sam in front of a stack of paper and Natasha enjoying their aggregation.

"What's going on here?" Steve asks, his left eyebrow lifted. He grabs some water from the fridge and walks over to his friends. "It's all the soulmate applications that were filled out. We're going through them to see if maybe one of them is actually your soulmate." Sam explains and holds up one of the filled out forms. Steve smile widens. "But most of them are so obnoxious. Like this one" Bucky holds up another form. "I'm meant to be yours even if I had to get the soulmark tattooed." He reads, his frown deepening. Steve just laughs and takes the stack in front of his friends. He throws the stack in the recycling bin, much to the outrage of Bucky and Sam. He takes a sip from his water before the smile finds his lips again. "Well... Thank you for doing all this work but it was unnecessary. I found her and she's pretty amazing." His smile widens at the shocked faces of his friends.

"Excuse me, what?! You walk in here like nothing happened and then out of nowhere drop that bomb on us?!" Sam cries out. Steve chuckles which just seems to anger his friends even more. "Oh I'll hand your ass to you in tomorrow's sparring session!" Bucky promises as Steve skillfully avoids him. Finally Natasha just gets up and hugs him. "I'm happy for you. You deserve it, Cap." She says sincerely. "I hope you know that I'm doing a background check on her." Steve chuckles but hugs her back. "And that you're gonna break poor Clint's heart by not visiting him on his farm." Steve's laugh turns into a snort. "You mean I'm making him really happy because he now has an excuse to buy a new chicken? Can't have Cap Jr. without his soulmate. And I'm pretty sure she'll love the chicken once I take her for a visit." Natasha smiles fondly before she punches his shoulder slightly and leaves him to Sam and Bucky's complaining and investigations.

[babyvixen27]

Stranger Danger / PART 2 18+ minor DNI

Incel Neil! x Bimbo Reader!

One too many drinks fill your pretty head, leaving no room for rational thought and Neil is there to pick up the slack .

Warnings: NONCON/DUBCON, DARK CONTENT! Misogynistic language and behaviour, hateful, face slapping, dacryphilia, non con deepthroat, degradation, GRAPHIC, straight up bullying lol Neil x reader.

May do a third part? If anyone's interested 🤍

“Shh it’s alright baby” Neil laughed, “We’re just gonna have a little fun.” 

For another half second, your eyes watched him move toward you, vaguely picturing those discovery channel documentaries where the predator stalks its prey before launching. Another heavy footstep sent your body into autopilot, sprinting to the back door. However, the room seemed to move with you, and by the time you locked in on the handle, a rough handful of your hair sent you tumbling back onto the floor. The impact knocked the wind out of you with a heavy grunt and Neil took the momentary daze to straddle your hips, pinning your wrists over your head. 

You struggled for a bit, tears flowing endlessly, leaving mascara tracks down your puffy cheeks. “Le’me go you fucking perv’” you cried, you didn’t understand why he was doing this, you barely even remembered the car ride. “Don’ act like you don’t like it” He spit, nails digging into the soft skin of your wrists. “Walking around like this…” one of his hands took both of yours while the other trailed its way down your neck and chest. “Don’ act like this isn’t exactly what’ya want. A good mean hard fuck to put ya sleep”. 

His breath trembled when he pulled the neckline of your dress and your tits bounced out. For a second he only gawked down at you, now that is a good pair of tits. You were nothing like the occasional hookup he indulged in, more like the girls he jerked off to every night, eyes widening impossibly more when his hand reached up to cup one and a pathetic whimper spilled from your plush lips. “Fuckin’ perfect.” He breathed, as you thrashed under him, squealing when he pinched your nipple painfully. “Please don’t hurt me, please I'm sorry! Do you want money? I’ll do anything” you begged frantically, watching in horror as he dipped down to take your nipple into his mouth, feeling the vibrations of the low groan he let out when his eyes rolled back and he gave a hard suck. 

You sobbed, turning your head to avoid the terrible yet erotic sight. You wished you could turn off your senses entirely, trying to ignore his high-pitched whines and grinding on your hip. Neil was in heaven, he could suck on your tits forever but after a couple minutes decided that he wanted to put them to good use instead . Ignoring your cries and pleading, he crawled back up your body, sitting on your chest so that his crotch was resting in the valley of your breasts. “-what are you doing?” You mumbled, lip trembling as the sound of a zipper by your face had your eyes dropping from his cold grin to his zipper. 

“What do you think stupid girl?” He snickered, “do I have to go step by step with you for everything?” Rolling his eyes, he hissed when the cold air hit his dick, it was painfully hard and the heat of it was uncomfortable when it slapped down on your chest. “You’re gonna get my dick nice and wet and then i’m going to fuck these fat tits” 

Immediately, you began to shake your head, newfound strength pushing you to create distance. However, the alcohol running through your veins weighed you down more than he did, and a sharp slap to your cheek made your head jerk to the side, making you see stars.". Neil’s big hand gripped your jaw, turning your face to meet his. He was inches away from you, and your breaths intermingled as your eyes regained focus." He was so slanky, you thought, you never imagined a guy like him had this in him. Or maybe you just never noticed, living in the perfect bubble curated for you your whole life. Such pretty eyes, plump lips, warm brown curls tucked behind his ears in an awkward cut and a Super Mario T-shirt… you almost giggled out loud when your foggy brain concluded he kind of looked like a girl. 

“Who are you? Why’re you doing this?” You slurred, feeling his lips ghost over yours. “I’m just your uber driver and I'm getting my payment for getting you home safe” He mocked, connecting his mouth to yours in a bruising kiss. You froze, until a warning squeeze around your neck had you trying to match his rhythm. He was eager, sloppy, all too difficult to keep up with. Eventually, you just let your lips part for a wet open mouthed kiss. Your tongue gliding along his, his heavy groans filling the space between sticky smacks and the dirtiness of it all made your cheeks heat up. 

He pulled away, both of you catching your breaths, lips slick and puffy. Neil moved to mouth at your neck, licking a long stripe up to your ear and though the tears never stopped, you felt a familiar pulse between your thighs. It made you feel disgusting, how could you enjoy something so awful? You almost wished it was painful, or inexperienced or even just for him to be ugly! but a hard suck on a little sweet spot pulled a squeal from you. “I hate sluts like you” he murmured, straightening up and adjusting so that his cock sat on your cheek, slapping it against your lips. “Open up”. Shaking your head, you begged “please-” and Neil took the opportunity to push past your parted lips. “No teeth or I’ll ream your little ass, you hear me?” He threatened, though it comes out stuttered when he looks down and gets a good look at your messy face.

You immediately start to panic but the small rational part of your brain urges you to force it down. You’ve done this countless times, taken much bigger, and so you relax your throat and let the head of his dick slide in.

“Fuck!” his hands fling to either side of your head, grabbing fistfuls of your hair as his whole length disappears down your throat. For a second, he has to shut his eyes, breathing heavy so as to not cum too soon and spoil the fun. He’s so deep, position leaving no room to actually pound so he settles for humping your face tight, throat glucking with every movement. “Look s’ pretty like this” He pants, staring down at you, giving you a small slap when you try to close your eyes. It was torture, having to keep eye contact with him, watching his features contort from the pleasure he was taking from your body. 

When he was satisfied he jerked back, a thick glob of drool connecting your tongue to the tip of his dick before he scooped it up and moved back down to your tits. He positioned himself between them, grabbing one in each hand and pushing them together to engulf him before he began thrusting. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, stick your fucking tongue out and look at m- yeah thats it, good- FUCK” Neil could barely get his thoughts in order, here you were, a girl so desperately out of his league his entire life, at his mercy. 

You had stopped crying, body limp in a trance while you waited for it to end. He would cum and leave and you would shower and go to bed and tomorrow would be a new day. “Oh my god you’re gonna make m’cum bitch” He warned, panting with each thrust, until his hips stilled with a long whine and you felt hot spurts of cum paint your chest, trailing down your collar bones and landing on your tongue and cheek. 

It was over, a wave of relief running over you. He got what he wanted.

..Maybe it was your fault for showing your relief so openly but when Neil’s breath finally settled and you noticed that his cock wasn’t softening, his cruel laugh sent chills down your spine.

 “You didn’t think  I was done did you? We haven't even made it to the bed yet”.

[filth-burps-writing]

Pigs Banquet part three; the burping contest

Sorry this has been awhile folks but as you can tell from the forcemasc content on my blog I’ve been having issues. This chapter is from Reginald’s perspective.

Reginald woke up as he always did these days. Being shocked awake with a huge fart, then peeling a piece of trash stuck to him. He frequently had late night junk food binges and couldn’t be bothered to clean up any of the mess. His room was almost exceptionally comfortable . The trash, piles of dirty clothes and discarded bottles of alcohol /pee stood in contrast to the dark, old furniture he’d inherited from his grandparents. He rolled off his bed and took a lazy pee on a graphic t-shirt from high school he’d gone to the store in last week when he was too lazy for his regular clothes. Speaking of he put on his suit and apron for work and took a restrainted sip then a firm chug from a nearby bottle and checked himself out in a mirror. He loved how the formality of the suit contrasted the stained material and tightness. He even thought about how he filled out the maid costume that stupid sexy Arlo gave him during the dare last week that was kicked under his bed in shame.

He wandered into his apartments kitchen to the sight of Ronald the head chef and his roommate drinking his morning beer and scratching his dick through his boxers. “ that fucking shit is affront to drinking” Reginald said. In response Ronald belched so loud that it woke up Winston from his couch locked slumber. Reginald just stared as Winston immediately started picking his nose. Eventually he broke out of it and got a packet of donuts from their pantry and flopped down in the creaky old armchair that had held him for many smoke seshes, fifa tournaments or just a night drinking and burping with his two roommates. He started eating them quickly and messily, delighting in the feeling of his belly getting fuller. He released a few satisfied belches then left to go to work.

He joyfully stepped into work. He had a sexy full belly, lethal farts brewing and best of all could tell that he was going to let out some excellent burps. Sure he was no Ronald but he was no slouch either. He once did a burp that lasted a full ten seconds. With his nervous burping he got plenty of practice. He got behind the bar and immediately did a loud fart. Everyone else was sat round one of the tables dicking around. They ushered him over but Reginald didn’t want to destroy his own good mood. After a while Arlo went up to him and ordered a sprite. “I’ll pay for it dude” he said in an irritatingly deep and smooth voice. Reginald responded “no need. In those joggers with that butt it’s one the house”. Reginald wasn’t even actually flirting with him. Well not much. He just liked watching the rigid little freak squirm. He got him his sprite but instead of going back to joking with the rest of the staff he stood at the bar, chugged his whole drink and belched loudly right in Reginald’s face. His breath was deliciously rancid, presumably from the shitty diner he and Mercy got breakfast from. At that moment something gurgled in Reginald’s gut and he burst out in a slightly louder burp. “Are you challenging me?” Arlo asked. “Yeah I am” Reginald had gas to impart he might as well embarrass Arlo. “Alright then” Arlo said before releasing another huge belch. Reginald responded with a longer one. Before they knew it they exchanging belch after belch.

“BBBUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRPPP”

“bbbbbuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRPPP”

“BBBBBUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPP”

“BBBBBBUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRPPP BBUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRPPP”

It went on for what felt like forever. The whole staff gathered round to watch them. But suddenly Reginald farted and something shifted in gut. He adjusted his glasses, pushed on his rounded middle then…

BBBUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPP.

It was the biggest burp ever. Bigger than Ronald’s. Bigger than anyone’s. He bent over coughing violently from not breathing for so long while Arlo slumped against a barstool defeated. Reginald smirked. Arlo said “so. What stupid forfeit do I gotta do to for losing”. “Not to bad. Just rub my gut until fucking guests come in”. Reginald really did need a tummy rub. Arlo shrugged, hopped over the bar and started rubbing his belly. Arlo’s short stubby fingers were weirdly good at reaching all the gas pockets and before he knew it Reginald was exploding from both ends. Arlo whispered in his ear “ what did you eat before your shift, you show off”. Reginald answered “donuts” while he felt himself stiffen and blush. Arlo diligently stood there and rubbed the gas out of Reginald’s stomach until their regulars started to spill in. Then he wordlessly gave his belly one final pat and hopped over the bar to greet them. How did he still end up the one feeling flustered and embarrassed when Arlo lost? If Arlo wanted to be such a sexy asshole then Reginald was going to mold him in his image. If Reginald got his way, which he did, he would never have heard Arlo speak again.

[wisteriasymphony]

aw man I still have ideas for SAMAU. (hope you don't mind @dreamer-in-a-far-away-land hehe)

CONTENT WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE. EYES GET SCOOPED. this too is yuri

It was one of the few nights Marinette was sure she wasn't being watched. Whoever-Was-Up-There's eyes must've all been closed, or maybe (and more likely) tonight was just a different target. Either way, she slipped out through the trapdoor leading to the roof, and let herself fall all the way down to the street, disturbing nothing more than a few smooth pebbles when she hit the ground.

Cerise's hideout wasn't far, if she remembered correctly.

Getting around to it the "odd way", as Adrien had started to put it, carried a subtle, yet rational sense of danger to it. Clipping the walls was less risky and something Marinette hoped she was starting to get the hang of, but when it came to gaps through the ground she needed to be a little more careful. Falling at just the right angle and just the right speed could mean death.

...Well, not 'death' in the way that people made up, where you stop being the second you get too hurt. Death, real death, where you wake up in your bed with freshly pressed clothes and no memory of what you were doing. Sometimes no memories at all. Marinette didn't want to think about what would happen if she forgot everything her and Adrien were working towards.

As the solid blue of the night sky shone both from above and below, Marinette kept throwing and recalling her yo-yo (difficult to use outside of costume, but not impossible), grappling down to the misshapen boxes that made up the Parisian sewers.

"Cerise? ...Cerise..... Lila?"

Marinette's footsteps sound the same against the wet stone of the sewers. While this used to be something she thought was normal, Marinette stops to play with it now—A lighter step here, tiptoe there, two heavy steps one after the other. All the same sound. Something tells her it shouldn't be, though.

In the darkest corner, Marinette sees a figure curled up against the wall. Cerise breaths heavily, shaking, as she raises a spoon to her eye.

The two girls stop to stare at each other when their presence is mutually known.

Cerise looks away—with one brown eye, one green—and mutters aloud to Marinette:

"S-sorry, I... They messed up my eye. I've been trying to get it out forever."

Cerise's green eye is red and bloodshot, which only seems to corroborate this. Despite the darkness surrounding them, the spoon carries the same reflections it had from whenever it was stolen, the glint of a kitchen cabinet on its handle. Cerise keeps it inches away from her lower eyelid, panicked but still determined.

Marinette sits down next to Cerise, and the feeling makes her gut do backflips. Weeks ago, she would've sworn Lila was her biggest enemy, even more so than Hawkmoth. How stupid was she to be giving sympathy to someone so evil? ...That was what the Whoever-Was-Up-There wanted her to think, though. Marinette wasn't keen on trusting her gut anymore.

"If you do it with one hand, Cerise, I can hold the other one."

"...I think I need both," she confesses sheepishly. "You have the other miraculouses with you, right? Can any of them dull pain?"

"Oh! Yeah, the rooster. I can use that." Marinette stood up, shaking out her yo-yo until the thumb ring fell into her open hand. "...You're fine with waiting, right? I haven't found a way around the sequence yet."

"it's fine. ...I like watching it. Yours has always been pretty."

Marinette smiled, fitting the thumb ring onto her left hand.

"Tikki, Orikko, unify!"

Nothing happened. ...Marinette tried again. Still, nothing happened. Darn it—That wasn't written yet either. She probably didn't even have a costume for Roosterbug yet.

Cerise slowly lowered the spoon from her eye, instead dragging the edge of its bowl against her forearm. It was useless to get her hopes up over something so simple anyways.

"...It's fine, I can just keep trying myself."

"No, Cerise..."

Marinette took in a breath, holding it behind her teeth.

"Give me the spoon," she suggests. "I'll get it out for you."

Cerise did what she was asked, and Marinette let her fingers close around the handle of the spoon. Cerise was still up against the wall and floor, and Marinette was still standing. She thought for a moment about what to do, her thumb rubbing the handle as she went through every possible course of action in her mind.

She'd start from below the eye, and dig up.

Cerise was surprisingly calm when Marinette planted her foot right on the girl's chest. With one hand holding the weapon, Marinette used the other to press on Cerise's forehead, pinning it back against the wall. For what felt like hours, the two waited, silently, breathlessly...

Marinette worked in the bowl of the spoon to sit between Cerise's eyelid and eyeball—Cerise thrashed a bit, only on instinct. That was the easy part.

The hardest part came later, as Marinette had to ignore Cerise's cries of pain as she slowly forced the green eye out.

It was a blessing that Paris rarely had casualties during the day, that the world would work around preventing injury and death. To hear screams like this on a daily basis would break Marinette, and she knew it. The metal of the spoon continued to tear at the dry flesh, nothing spraying out of the eye sockets or dripping down Cerise's face—not even a glimmer of tears. And all the while Cerise was howling.

"Cerise, I don't know if I should—"

Cerise latched onto Marinette's wrist with both hands, keeping her from pulling the spoon away. Her deep brown, liquid eye stared up at Marinette with a look of horror—Where their bodies met, they could feel eachothers' heartbeat—and yet she begged her attacker to "just keep going".

Frazzled, Marinette fought herself to continue digging, feeling the weight of the eyeball as it rested in her bowl of the spoon, and as the blunt edge kept cutting up and up and up, the green eye was eventually pried from its socket.

It fell on the floor with a dull, wet slap. It made no sense that Cerise could still see through it, that she could look one way and the eye would still turn.

Cerise kicked it away and let the eye roll, slow and lazy as it fell off the ledge and into the river of sewage. Gone forever, if she had the will to hope such a thing could happen.

Marinette bent down to Cerise's level, dragging a hand across her bone-dry cheek. Her head was completely hollow, and Marinette grimaced as she realized hers was likely the same. Marinette poked her thumb into Cerise's empty socket, and the air inside Cerise felt no different than the air around them.

"A.... Are you okay?"

Cerise couldn't find her words at first, dizzy from the pain.

"Thank you."

"...I'm going to try and hold off on using Lucky Charm as long as I can tomorrow, okay?" Marinette confides. "Just so you're in the know."

Cerise nods, keeping her one-eyed gaze stuck to the floor. Marinette couldn't keep her own off the hollow in Cerise's head, noticing the beginnings of hair strands clipping through the thin dome of skin. It was terrifying, the idea that inside of everyone... was just nothing.

"Do you know who they're going to have you akumatize?"

Cerise shakes her head guiltily. "I won't know until morning."

Marinette takes in another breath, before acquiescing with a "That's fine. Like Adrien always says... We'll know when we know."

She instantly regretted bringing him up. Adrien was a sore topic with the both of them, and always had been.

"...I'm sorry."

"It wasn't something any of us could choose, Cerise." Marinette bites her lip—To admit it disturbs a weight she's kept for some time now, but she does anyways. "It feels wrong to blame you now. For anything."

"I still don't know how I'll make it up to you."

"Just keep playing your part, like all of us have."

When Marinette left, Cerise was still crawled up against the wall, still waiting out the pain. If there was anything consistent about Whatever-Was-Up-There, it was that every morning began the same. She'd have her eye back when she woke up.

[skymoral]

🩵UNFORESEEN🩵

- Chapter 2 -

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category: F/M

Fandom: Mortal Kombat (Video Games)

Relationship: Bi-Han | Sub-Zero/You

Characters: Liu KangJohnny CageTakahashi KenshiRaiden (Mortal Kombat)Kung LaoReaderOriginal Female Character(s)Original Male Character(s)Kitana (Mortal Kombat)Mileena (Mortal Kombat)Harumi ShiraiGeras (Mortal Kombat)Tanya (Mortal Kombat)Original Female Character(s) of ColorOriginal Male Character(s) of Color

Additional Tags: Black Character(s)Family FluffFamily FeelsChildhood FriendsFriendshipAngst and Hurt/ComfortBetrayalBroken FamiliesTournamentsFalling In LoveFirst LoveNear DeathRedemptionPeople Change PeopleLin Kuei Clan (Mortal Kombat)Game 12: Mortal Kombat 1 (2023)

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It's been one week sense that event that took place with you. You didn't think it'd effect you in the long run, but it certainly was hitting you harder than ever. You didn't want to be anywhere alone, you preferred being around where people were. you were also super on edge when you couldn't help being alone, you were alert and looking around panicking. Anyone grab your own or touch you from behind you'd freak out.

You slowly develop high level of stress and would have an anxiety attack, you would go somewhere and hide locking yourself either your room closet of janitors closet till Rhonda found you to try and comfort you.

You hated the way you were acting, and felt as though it'll become a burden to your friends. Rhonda advised to possibly start seeing a therapist, which you did. It was helping a little, you told your therapist Judy everything that has happened. You thought you were going to be fine, but it seems it's just now hitting you.

"This man that saved you, are you still in contact with him?" Judy asked you, writing things down.

"Umm not per say, I know friend that knows a friend that hangs out with them. But I can't get in touch with Bi-han." You looked down blushing kicking your legs, She watched your every move and behavior.

She gave you a sweet smile, "Did you feel safe and comfortable with Bi-han?"

You looked up at her confused. She chuckled putting the board and pen down, crossing her legs and laying her hands neatly on top. "From what you told me everything that has happened, you didn't even know who he was and only just found out later he came because of your friends. But you didn't even question that he was there to save you and not another person kidnapping you. It must've been what he said that gave you the impression it was different?"

You listened to her closely, you didn't know yourself why you did. You would think after following the first guy willingly, you wouldn't be stupid enough to do it a second time.

"How about we experiment if your able to get in contact with him. Would you feel less scared and comfortable if you felt as though he was always around or even knowing he's watching you. So that nothing happens to you?" She smiled at you.

"Y-You mean something like a bodyguard?" You asked confused but curious as well.

"Yeah, if you would like to call it that and if that's how you see it. A personal bodyguard." She went and picked up her items again, "I won't force you sweetheart if you don't want to, we can find other methods to help ease your situation."

"I just don't think he'll do it... I don't want to inconvenience anyone... He may have more important duties then some traumatized college student." You felt nervous and embarrassed about this enough.

"It won't hurt to try and ask, the worst he can say is no. Plus it's just a simple test."

"For how long?"

"A week, and see how you feel in week during our next session."

You nodded and thank her for her time, she gave you a hug before saying goodbye to you. She was a very nice therapist and she seemed to genuinely care about you. compared to people that just doing this because it's there job and not that they care.

~~~

You and Rhonda visited the girls at the shop, it seem to be super busy today. Jamika and Tonya were busy washing there clients hair. Ashanti was crocheting hair, she looked up slightly and noticed you and Rhonda. "Hey Babes! How are you? Also how was your session today Y/N?"

"We're good, got a bunch of fucking homework, and we needed a break." Rhonda complained plopping next to Ashanti an open chair.

"Also the session was good as well... Although my therapist recommended a method I try for a week." You sat in Rhonda's lap as all the other sits were taken.

"Oh really? What she recommend?" Ashanti asked focused hard on her clients hair. You scooted closer whispering something in her ear, Ashanti froze her hands looking at you with a smirk.

"Yeah I know, I doubt it to. I told her I'd try and she said it wouldn't hurt to try."

"She seriously recommended that, I'm not sure Bi-han is the kind of person that'll do that. Unless it benefits the nigga, I can't imagine how'd that work Bi-han as your bodyguard." Ashanti went back to her clients hair.

"I kinda want to imagine it." Rhonda chuckled, You rolled your eyes at her.

"Although like you said it doesn't hurt to ask. I could talk to my baby for you if you'd like?" Ashanti looked at you with a smile.

"That'll be great of you sis." You thanked her.

"If that does happen, it'll be like that movie The Bodyguard with Whitney Houston." Jamika chimed in blow drying there clients hair.

"I fucking love that movie." Rhonda and Malcolm said at the same time, they looked at each other. A smirk on his face and a glare on Rhonda's.

"It'll be such a cute romance." Tonya said.

"How about we all not get ahead of ourselves. I honestly don't have any high hopes, Bi-han will most likely say no." You told them, you already know it's not going to happen

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It was late at night, and you couldn't sleep. You were having nightmares because of what happened, and it seemed like they only get worse. You sit up cursing yourself, as you were sweating profusely from it. As you were headed to the bathroom, your phone started ringing.

You saw it was Ashanti and answered it, "What's up girl?"

"I wasn't sure if you were up or not. Can't sleep again?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry that you're going through this babe, but I got some good news?"

You can hear the excitement in her voice, "What's the news?"

"Liu Kang told me that Bi-Han will be your personal bodyguard." There was a long silence after she said that.

"Hello...Y/N... Did I lose her?" Ashanti said on the other line.

"No you didn't fucking lose me! I'm sorry for shouting but are you fucking serious... No bullshit?" You didn't know how to feel about that news.

"Baby on my momma, I'm not lying. I'll tell you the deets tomorrow Pooki, He's arriving tomorrow. Get some rest good night!" Ashanti hung up.

You looked at yourself in the mirror smiling weird to yourself holding your head. How is she gonna drop a bomb like that on you at a time like this, you didn't know if you could sleep now. You quickly did your business in the bathroom and got back into the bed, to try and sleep. You did not know what to expect tomorrow.

~~~

You woke up, barely gotten any sleep. You took off your bonnet, letting your locs fall down. You quickly get ready and shock to see Rhonda wasn't here, you grab your phone from the night stand unplugging the charger.

You got a text from Ashanti letting you know to meet her outside on the campus, near the lunch area. You texted back you'll be on your way, you quickly freshened up to hurry and leave.

As you were rushing, you saw Ashanti and Rhonda sitting at one of the out door lunch tables. You waved to them, they noticed you and waved back. You saw Bi-han who only looked at you and scoffed, 'Rude' you thought to yourself. You didn't even notice Ashanti approaching you, which startled you a bit when she tapped you.

"Sorry I thought you saw me."

"Oh no it's fine I'm sorry, I was lost in thought... So how did ya'll get Bi-han to agree."

"Liu Kang told him that the Red Dragon may come back for vengeance on you, and sense the Lin Kuei came to rescue you. They may think you are affiliated with them and Bi-Han, so they may target you. So sense the Lin Keui and Red Dragon have bad history, it was in Bi-Han's interest to kill them if he sees them and protect you." Ashanti finished as they went to where the gang was.

"Wow that's, I mean I-"

"Girl I know that was all Liu Kang, he thought that shit out to a T. Also maybe Bi-Han didn't want whatever happen to you by them be on his conscious." Ashanti laughed with a smirk.

You both made it to the group, "Hey Bi-Han." You waved at him nervously.

"Y/N" He replied bluntly.

"Oh so you do know my name?"

"I told him." Rhonda raised her hand, "I also told the college chancellor your situation. Not everything but a bit here and there and a lil something I made up. He's allowing Bi-Han to accompany you, here's the letter he advise you to give to your professors." Rhonda handed you the information.

"Welp I did my job, so you ladies at the event this weekend!" Ashanti walked away throwing up the deuces. 

You turned back at Bi-Han smiling nervously as you blushed, he just looked around alert as if something was going to happen. "Well... We should head to my first class." You lead the way with Rhonda already left as Monday's they have a different class at this time. You looked behind to see if Bi-Han was following you, which he was at a certain distance to where you couldn't sense him.

You made it to your class, Bi-Han followed behind. As you sat down, he was glaring at the classmate sitting next to you. "Move." He ordered the student next to you. "Umm... This is my seat bro?" The boy told him, Bi-Han stood in front of him with an intimidating gaze.

"Move, or BE MOVED." He lowered his voice in a scary tone. The dude quickly gathered his materials to find another available seat, he took the seat next to you. Folding his arms, you could hear certain students whispering. Before you could let it bother you, the professor came into the room. He began taking attendance, he reached to you.

"Hear." You waved, the professor notice the new face sitting next to you.

"Do I see a new student here." Your professor raised an eyebrow at him.

"Do I see a person not minding there BUSINESS HERE." Bi-Han retorted. Before it could escalate further you quickly got up and gave your professor the letter from the chancellor. She nodded informing you to make sure he does disrupt the lesson.

"Bi-Han could you perhaps refrain from arguing with my professors, the rest of the day." You whispered to him

"Then she should be more concerned about what she does instead of what I am doing here." Bi-Han responded in the same tone.

"I get that, but be less aggressive at least... For me?" You touched his arm, looking up at him. You did not want to let go of those strong arms, you knew he was built but damn.

He kept quiet, not responding to your plea. You didn't expect him to, but grateful nonetheless that he's quiet. As the lecture was going on, you took a glance at Bi-Han looked super focused on what your professor had on the board.

"How about you take a picture it'll last longer." As soon as he said that, he heard a snapshot sound come from your phone. He turned his head glaring at you, "Pfft you ain't said nothing but word snowman." You grinned wickedly at him, he definitely didn't like that nickname you gave him.

"Delete it if you value your life."

His voice always gave you chills, "You're the one that said I should take photo if I want it to last longer." You chuckled under your breath. "Do you find testing my patience funny?" He asked looking away from you

"No... I think you're cute." You confessed to him in a quieter sweet tone. He looked at you shocked and slightly flustered by your bold confession, luckily the professor had the lights turned off for the students to see the screen better.

"What's wrong?... Grandmaster isn't use to a woman's compliment?" You gave him a sweet smile, "Your compliment means nothing to me." He looked away from you examining the area. Although when you called him Grandmaster, it sparked a little something inside of him, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck.

"I'm sure, I know you don't like women." You turned your attention back to what was being discussed in the class.

"I never said I didn't."

"So you like Women."

"Never said I did either." He side-eye you with a smirk, You blushed pouting. You didn't like how he was messing with your emotions, but you were messing with him first.

"Then what do you like?" You asked writing down notes

"I don't like people who are nosey."

"You just don't care about no one or like anything, noted." You rolled your eyes, he grunted at your statement with irritation.

"I'm here, am I not." Bi-Han told you, the bell rung and the lights turned back on. Before you could ask what he meant, he lifted you out the chair by the arm to leave the room.

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Got through both classes with a breeze, the first one Bi-Han stayed outside of the classroom. You felt okay, but you definitely preferred him next to you. For comfort to keep you calm, but like your therapist said just knowing he's close by. refrained you from having an Episode.

The second class, you asked him kindly to be with you in these classes. He expressed strongly how he did not like being in these rooms, after pestering and annoying him. He sat through the second class, not without him constantly complaining. Asking a million questions and more.

As you were headed to lunch to meet up with your girl Rhonda, you turned around to ask Bi-Han something. You noticed he wasn't behind you anymore, "Bi-Han?" you said openly, you looked around and didn't see him. You saw how the area didn't really have anyone, only students coming hear and there. You began to panic, you head back to look for him.

Then someone grabbed your shoulders making you scream, hitting whoever touched you away. You began shaking looking at the person, that touched you. It was the one person that you wanted to see the least, especially with your situation was your Ex.

"Woah calm down babygirl, you acting like you've seen a ghost." Oscar was about to grab your arm, but before he could someone else grabbed him with a strong grip before yanking him back.

"What do you think you're doing."

You looked up and realized it was Bi-Han, your shaking subsided. As you scurry to his side. Bi-Han shoved him harder than you expected, making him fall. "WHAT THE FUCK IS YO-" He stopped talking when he saw a sharp ice dagger close to his eye.

"Are you apart of the red dragon?" Bi-Han asked him, but Oscar was too scared to say anything. The bell began to ring and people would be leaving there class.

"He's not apart of the clan, just someone I use to go out with... Let's go before people start looking, please Bi-Han." You pleaded this time, he dissolve the ice. Before turning away, with him on your track. Leaving Oscar confused, scared, and angry.

~~~

"Girl I wished I would've been there to see Oscar piss himself." Rhonda was laughing, it was definitely a sight to behold. You shook your head and looked at Bi-Han, "Where did you go?" You asked a bit more irritated than you were trying to, Bi-Han definitely picked up on it.

"I saw someone, I wanted to be sure it wasn't them. I wasn't that far, as I heard your scream." Bi-Han replied frustrated, you nodded. You forgot he's only here, because of the clan lie. If it wasn't that situation, he would've denied it and not waste his time here with you.

"Hey girl you okay?" Rhonda nudged you, you left your thoughts nodding with a smile. "Bi-Han you hungry?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

You shrugged and got up to get something, even though he said he wasn't hungry you got him some noddle soup. As you were about to grab it, someone bumped into you. Making you almost fall, but caught you.

"Sorry I wasn't paying attention." the strange boy helped you up, "Oh no it's alright, thank you." You told him getting your food on the tray.

"Hóng lóng zài kànzhe nǐ " He said before walking away, you don't know what that meant. But you headed back to where the two words, you put the bowl of soup in front of him and fork for his ramen.

"I already said I-"

"I don't care, you haven't eaten all day Bi-Han. You need nourishment if any kind of attack happened, thought that was ninja 101." You went to eat your food.

"I do not need your concern woman." Bi-Han spat, you grinned ignoring him enjoying your food. After sometime he did eat what you sat in front of him, actually enjoying. You were happy he was.

Rhonda just looked in awe, "You both just looks so cute together."

"We're not together!" You and Bi-Han shouted.

"Damn, my bad... Lil momma was just teasing...OHH! Bi-Han, what's the name of you brother in the grey?" Rhonda scooted you over sitting between ya'll

"Are you speaking of Tomas?" Bi-Han leaning away from her as she was invading his personal space.

"Tomas? So that's his name?" Rhonda smiled.

The bell rang, and everyone was preparing there next class. You had one last class and it was with Rhonda, you told Bi-Han he didn't have to come. Since she was with you, and you will inform him if anything does happen with the Red Dragon Clan. He nodded, not wasting time leaving. You can tell he was happy to leave.

"So what you don't like him anymore?" Rhonda asked as ya'll sat in class

"It's not that, I just know he's not interested... So I'm not going to waste my time. Also he has an attitude problem." You told her opening your textbook.

"Girl who doesn't, some just wear it on there sleeve than others. He seemed like he don't hate you."

"He didn't seem like he likes me either, this conversation isn't going anywhere Rhonda." You said plugging in your headphones.

"Fine, but I know one thing I'm on a manhunt for a brother named Tomas." Rhonda said excitedly taking a picture of herself and posting it online.

"You gonna scare him away like you do every other nigga in your vicinity."

"Baby that's not what happened, they just weren't ready for a real woman. Then it hit me, I only came across boys. Momma needs a MAN." Rhonda squished your face, smiling. You just stared at her confused, she let your face go continuing texting on her phone.

"And I believe Tomas is that man."

The professor finally came, you didn't know what plot Rhonda had with her new manhunt. But you glad the topic transitioned from you and Bi-Han, you didn't want to think about it and focused all your attention on the class in front of you. As you were focused on class you didn't realize you had many eyes watching you.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. "Hóng lóng zài kànzhe nǐ "(Translation: The red dragon is watching you)

Unforeseen (9444 words) by MoralSky Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Mortal Kombat (Video Games) A/N: So just a full disclosure I"m not a therapy expert and what not so don't judge me strongly. Now I added a bit of what experienced, so I don't know but I hope you like it anyways

[onewmin]

snow on the beach | jaebeom | knj | 18+

Parings: Lim Jaebeom x fem!reader x Kim Namjoon

Summary: You reminisce on the memories about the most important men in your life after being caught in between them, your feelings put at stake.

Warnings: AU, SMUT (do not engage in my works if you’re a minor), non-graphic description of sex, mentions of oral (f receiving), friends to friends with benefits to friends to lovers (?), mentions of cheating, profanity, the reader doesn’t know what she feels (very elena gilbert of hers), a very cheesy thing in the end (pls I’m a sucker for such stupid clichés) and a cliffhanger of course; typos, a slight of angst

Author’s note: hope you enjoy this… whatever this is lmao. Let me know what you think!!

Pics are taken from Pinterest, if you know their owners, pls let me know!!

Disclaimer: My works are not for minors to read. All the appearances of real people are taken for inspiration purposes only. I do not own anything, except for my writing.

Masterlist

A summer breeze blew through your hair, hugging your shoulders with its warmth. There’s something about beaches, something that has always drawn you to this place. Is it the ocean, the small waves of which washed over your feet in the early hours of the days; is it the sand, that was always collected in your shoes after you walked around? You don’t really know, to be honest. You just know that you love being on the beach, whether it’s winter or summer, whether you’re alone of with someone else.

Five years ago, Jaebeom took you to the beach to teach you how to swim. Back then, you’d been friends for over a year, and shared the benefits for several months. The beach was secluded, isolated almost; so after his successful lessons, the two of you ended up making out on the sand. You remember sitting on his lap, arms wrapped around him, hands in his hair, tugging. You remember his grips on your waist, fingers putting hair behind your ears, slow kisses with sweet nothings whispered in between them. None of you had ever opened up to the other party of the mess, coming clear with the mutual feelings the two of you had developed. He never spoke of, and neither did you. You two just continued making love and acting like a couple until some months later you met Namjoon.

“Joon asked me to be his girlfriend”, you said to Jaebeom, when the two of you were smoking outside the bar.

“What did you answer?”

You shrugged your shoulders and threw the cigarette in the bin. “Figured I’d talk to you first”.

Jaebeom peered right through you, and then took the second cigarette from the pack. “No need to. He’s a great guy. You should go for it”.

Deep inside your head, you were hoping he’d snap, take your hand and pull you in his arms, whispering about you being his girl, like he did when you’d have sex. But he never did. And so the two of you were only friends again.

You grew to love Kim Namjoon quite quickly; he was always tender with you, gentle touches left on your cheeks whenever the two of you kissed. He fell for you first, having spent months dancing around you, trying to approach you the best way possible. He’d bring you flowers, take you on long bike rides and meet you after work. You’d go on simple dates, like movies or walks, but you were mesmerized by every little thing he did for you. However, Jaebeom wasn’t the bad guy in the story either: he was still you close friend. And prior to Namjoon, he had also done everything to make you fall for him.

But Jaebeom never acknowledged that. Namjoon did.

For your first anniversary the two of you rode your bikes to the beach to have a picnic, while watching the sunset. There were plenty of people there too, but you only saw Joon, and his ever glowing love reflected in him holding your hand and smiling brightly at everything you said.

And while the time was passing, Jaebeom had gotten in and out multiple relationships, you and Namjoon stood strong, facing every challenge together. Him and Jaebeom grew to be friends too, and you never touched upon you and him being an item before Joon. Because, no matter how friendly they’d been to each other, Kim Namjoon was overly possessive whenever he saw you and Jaebeom together.

Something seems off, he’d think to himself, judging you male best friend silently, but I can’t grasp what. You had to reassure him a thousand times that there was nothing between the two of you, — at least, not anymore — and he’d cool down, coming back to that sweet persona of his.

And the time has passed almost invisibly, marking your fifth anniversary as lovers and second one as an engaged couple. Things were going pretty great, horrendously sweet the two of you are, your friends would say.

Jaebeom, on the other hand, four months prior to your anniversary, had broken up with his long-term girlfriend — probably, the first one in years that he had very serious intentions about. He called you in the middle of the night, his speech slurring, for you to find him in the alley, drunkenly unconscious. Having carried him to your car, you heard him mumbling to himself, lying in the backseat, while you were driving him home.

“Jaebeom, you’re heavy son of a bitch”, you huffed, after putting him in his bed, and taking his clothes off. You didn’t feel the wave of embarrassment seeing him in his boxers only; you only felt a tsunami of irritation growing inside of you.

“Stay”, he grabbed your wrist when you had put the blanket over his body.

“Jaebeom, you know I can’t stay”, your annoyance turned into softness the moment you heard his weak voice.

“I can’t sleep without you”, he looked you right in the eyes, “I think… I think about you a-all the time”, he stuttered.

“Oh god, you’re too drunk”, you replied and released yourself from his grip. He was obviously imagining his ex-girlfriend brought him home. That’s what you kept on telling yourself even when you heard him murmur your name when leaving.

The two of you never spoke of that. Not until two months ago.

Your friends would tell you about the most bizarre experiences of them finding out their partners were cheating: catching them red-handed was the most outdated one. Nevertheless, no matter how ‘boring’ it was, that what happened to you. Namjoon and the girl from his work, in your bed, in the bed the two of you have shared for the past three years.

“It’s not what you think!” Followed you as you flew out of the apartment, only to jump in your car and drive, drive, drive until you couldn’t feel your hands, which were gripping the wheel tightly. You stopped near the beach.

Sitting on the sand, you shivered from the cold spring wind as a harbinger of the heavy rain that followed shortly after you arrived. The raindrops fell on the water, creating ripples on its surface; and you didn’t know what really soaked the sand — the rain or your tears.

Soaked to the core, you tried to warm yourself in the car, bone-shaking sobs ripping your heart apart with every breath you took. You stayed in the car, in the parking lot of the supermarket outside the city, and fell asleep in the driver’s seat, head resting on your hands on the steering wheel.

You drove to Jaebeom’s house in the morning, just to cry more, being safe in his arms. He made you stay in his house even for longer, as you felt sick the next day, your beach experience being the fault. Namjoon was banned from visiting.

“She doesn’t want to see you”, you woke up to hear the words coming from the hall of Jaebeom’s house.

“Is that what she said?” You knew Namjoon’s voice all too well not to recognize him. “Or this are your words?”

“Both”.

“She’s my fiancée, not yours, Jaebeom”.

“Is she still?” Jaebeom chuckled. “Don’t remember her being ecstatic about your wedding since she caught you fucking someone else”.

1:0, Jaebeom won that round. Namjoon left but kept on bombarding your phone, texting and calling all the time. What could he possibly tell you? That it was a mistake? That him sleeping with his colleague was… What? What possible excuse could he ever given to make you forgive what he had done?

The anger has turned into resentment; you could no longer think of Namjoon without feeling sick to your stomach. Your engagement ring was in your bag, a lingering memory of the moments you were the happiest.

“Have you ever thought about it?” You and Jaebeom were sitting on the couch, watching TV in his house. You’ve just gotten better, but he insisted you stayed a little bit longer. You didn’t mind.

“About what?”

“About…” He hummed. “About us”.

“Us?”

He took a deep breath. “Like, if we… If you and me… Shit”. He ran his hand through the hair. “If I, uh…”. Jaebeom stopped for a moment again. “If I asked you to be my girlfriend back then, would you be mine?”

Gawking at him, you opened and closed your mouth, being unable to produce a sound or a thought. Just like that? Five years have passed!

“What are you… What are you talking about?” Your words came out as a whisper.

He moved closer to you, having taken your hands in his. “I-I just… I just want to know”. His brown eyes scanned you, pupils dilating every time his gaze stopped at your lips.

“It’s been too long for me to even remember-“

“I couldn’t forget”. His words firm, unlike the soft caressing of your hands by his fingers. “Because no matter how much time passed, I find myself still… Still drawn to you”. Your chest suddenly was heavy and the heartbeat was the only sound you could hear. “Don’t you ever think of… us?”

Your verbal answer came out as silence, but you quickly found yourself pulling him in for a kiss. Starting slowly, it escalated into a heavy one, tongues sloppily meeting in between moans. You never dreamt to be in his arms ever again, nevertheless, you were.

The couch was no longer enough as the two of you crawled to his bed, entangled in the sheets. His touches were the same, same as you remembered them: simply perfect for you. His head buried between your thighs, exploring your most sensitive spot once again, even more skillfully and satisfyingly this time.

And as you were riding him, head thrown back, both of you lost in pleasure, your personal Edem inside his bedroom. The way he tugged on your hair, gently and tenderly, when talking you from behind, open-mouthed kisses left on your back and shoulders. Every year spent suppressing your desire for each other turned into an erupting volcano; and there was no possibility to stop the disaster from happening.

You regretted it in the morning. You regretted it until Jaebeom woke up and grinned at you, lips touching your forehead in a soothing kiss, as if he’d felt the pain you were feeling. The said pain was relieved by the kiss, and then by another, turned into making out, turned into him slowly thrusting into you. For several hours you couldn’t even remember Namjoon’s name — as if the mere touch of Jaebeom’s erased your fiancé from your head.

However, not from your heart. No matter how good it was, no matter the suppressed feelings for Jaebeom coming back, you still had feelings for Namjoon as well. Torn apart, you were unable to leave Jaebeom, ‘cause doing it felt like leaving him forever. It seemed if you stepped out of his house, you’d lose him forever. But if you stayed? If you stayed, wouldn’t you lose Namjoon?

Did he think about that when cheating on you?

So you drove to the beach instead. Summer is in its full bloom, people walking around, swimming, laughing. Not many of them, but enough for you not to feel lonely. And as the weather seems perfect, you close your eyes to trust your faith to the only place you ever felt safe at.

“If it snows today, now, on the beach”, you speak to the ocean through your thoughts, eyes squeezed, “I’ll drive home to the man I love”. As if you knew. As if you had a clear vision of your future. As if you one whom to love.

And as you stand there, eyes still closed, several minutes pass. When you hear people’s voices suddenly getting louder, you lift your head to look at the sky. Opal colored just five minutes ago, now it was grey, clouds covering the sun.

Could it really snow on the beach in the middle of the summer?

[sexyzuka]

A Fateful Encounter

Part Three - Dinner for Two

Pairing: Kiba Inuzuka x Reader

Word Count: 7k+

Content: 18+, fem!reader, werewolf!reader, animal death, graphic violence, blood, angst, mental health, self-harm ideation, pet names

Summary: Your flimsy façade of humanity crumbled the second Kiba saw you transform. There's a tacit understanding between you two, but it's a transitory, conditional truce held together by fraying threads of intrigue. Kiba agreed to keep your secret, but in return you have to keep your promise and go on a date with him. Since sneaking into Konoha again isn’t a viable option, you decide to surprise Kiba by offering to hunt down the tastiest dinner he’s ever had, and what's more luxurious than fresh venison? Tensions flare as you divulge details about your past that ignite Kiba’s ferocious jealous streak. Will you be able to keep your cool while also protecting your pack from the inevitable destructiveness that shadows humankind like a pernicious plague?

Writers Notes: Hey everyone! I took a small break from writing due to being at New York Comic Con this past weekend, but I’m back with another chapter. This time we find our dauntless heroine faced with yet another moral quandary. She has to decide if exposing her deepest secret and potentially sacrificing herself is worth it if it means her pack will be spared. I've included a very graphic and detailed description of the killing and butchering of a deer in this chapter, so as always please use your discretion choosing to interact with my work. The references to criminology and investigative techniques are based on practices in the United States, so readers from other countries might find discrepancies between the approaches Kiba uses versus the ones they may be acquainted with. I did a fair amount of research throughout the drafting process and really put my heart and soul into this chapter, so I hope you enjoy!

You can read the previous chapter here!

The oppressive, dry air around you keeps you on high alert. A lingering sense of uneasiness permeates every cell in your being. The only thing grounding you is the weight of your companion, his frail frame nestled in your arms.

What if he changes his mind and follows me to the den? I can't put my faith into someone I just met, let alone a human. I'm so stupid, I should have taken care of him when I had the chance. Nothing good ever comes from trusting them.

"Hey, big sis Izumi," a faint voice calls out to you. "This isn't the way we normally go back home. Weren't we supposed to turn left at that big boulder back there?"

You were so caught up in your own thoughts you carelessly missed the clandestine trail that took you to your clan's den. Somehow this was his fault too.

"You're right, Hana. Sorry, big sis is a little scatterbrained today. Let's backtrack a bit before continuing on our way," you sighed while inaudibly cursing profanities under your breath.

All. His. Fault.

After a small detour you made it to the secretive sanctuary you and your clan called home. It wasn't too fancy, just a regular rather mundane den maintained by you and the older wolves, but what made it a truly resplendent refuge in your eyes was the dearth of people in the nearby area. In fact, in the decades that your clan had lived in this area there were only a handful of unwanted visitors. Mostly hikers getting lost, and the occasional ninja passing through, too busy on their mission to give any extra thought to a pack of unassuming wildlife, but for the most part you lived a blissfully solitary life here.

And that's just how you liked it...is what you would normally think if your mind wasn't so cluttered with images of that dreadfully attractive man. What was his name again? Oh right, Kiba. Kiba Inuzuka.

You know, the ninken you'd chatted with on a run recently had nothing but praise for his clan. Most of them enjoyed belonging to their human partners, choosing to live that domestic life instead of embracing their divine right to be feral but free, unshackled by the weight of mankind. Couldn't be me, you thought to yourself. I belong to no one but myself.

Still, there was a nagging feeling brewing in the pit of your stomach. The electrical impulses stimulating your nervous system jolted an emotion that you hadn't felt in years, decades even. A voracious appetite that couldn't be quashed by the flesh of your clan's latest catch. No, the only prey that could quell this craving was patiently waiting for you, a brazen yet charming man who so naively trusted a woman who committed theft right in front of his face. How gullible can one person be?

Well, you thought to yourself while gently placing Kōtarō next to the other youths huddled together, sleeping peacefully, I guess I shouldn't keep my date waiting for me too long now, should I?

"Big sis is going to head out now, okay Hana?" You gave a nod to the young pup who was eagerly looking up at you with an expectant gaze. "Go get some sleep, you must be exhausted."

"Okay, big sis Izumi. See you at moonrise," the drowsy whelp yawned while unsteadily walking towards the rest of her snoozing pack.

One final goodbye to the clan's elder and you were off. You could scarcely contain the fervor that was growing inside of your belly. You should be fast asleep like the rest of your pack, it was the middle of the day after all, but with every step you took there was an accompanying vibration of pure, unadulterated energy that invigorated your very core.

How long has it been since you felt this way? How many years of self-imposed seclusion were you throwing away by giving into this desire? You did swear off talking to humans, after all.

But this feels different. He feels different, a facetious fib that would hurt no one but yourself if it turned out you were wrong. Because at the end of the day, the rest of your pack were just simple wolves. If this man turned out to have ill intent towards you, at the very least you would be the only lycanthrope in his crosshairs. You made a promise to yourself to never turn anyone else into the same affront to nature, the downright monstrosity, that you are.

And unless there's some underground werewolf fraternity I haven't found in this past century, it's safe to say that we won't be running into the freakshow Freemasons anytime soon.

You scoff at yourself as you pass the familiar boulder that denotes the halfway mark to your destination. After a quick exhale you double down your efforts, noticing that the sun is far past its apex in the sky. How long has it been since you left the man? Is he still there? Well, no use in doubting yourself now, you already committed to rendezvousing and you don't think he's the type who would appreciate being stood up.

It's not like I have a choice, you jeer at yourself, he saw me transform right in front of him. Even if I did get away today, he would just track me down. His outrageously keen sense of smell is definitely a big nuisance. I'm honestly surprised a human can even-  

"Hello there, princess." The baritone intonations echoed throughout the forest, assaulting your eardrums with a barbed arrogance.

You were so lost in thought that even your astonishment was delayed. The world was buffering around you, the taunts not processing until you were practically face to face with the man. The sudden realization that your date would soon come to fruition causes you to lose your balance, and you trip over yourself. A rugged hand reaches down and grabs you before you become one with the earth.

"Wow, it looks like you just can't stop falling for me," a roaring laugh coinciding with the lighthearted mockery flitters around your body.

You would be angrier with him if he didn't just save you from unceremoniously landing on your face, so you decide, rather judiciously, to ignore that last comment.

The man helps you up to your feet, stifling a laugh by holding his other hand up to his mouth. Ah, so he's the type to laugh at his own lame ass jokes, you think to yourself while you brush off the dust that has accumulated over your cloak.

"Welcome back, princess," a glowing smile radiated from the man's face as he folded his arms across his chest, "You sure took your sweet time getting back here. I almost thought you stood me up."

"Well you know, we princesses are very busy women," you say while rolling your eyes and doing an exaggerated curtsy, "And the court jester is not high on the list of people we'd rush for." A complete lie. You were just trying to call his bluff by being cheeky in response. If his hearing was as good as his sense of smell he'd steal you instantly from the castle window you were precariously perched on.

"Ouch. Is that the faintest hint of sarcasm I'm detecting from you, princess?" He was betting on your inability to keep the façade up for much longer. Even you could smell the pheromones that you were unconsciously emitting, so not even Selene the Moon Goddess would be able to get you out of this one. It looks like the only thing to do now is up the ante and bank on getting a royal flush.

"My deepest and most sincere apologies, sir. Let me make it up to you by offering our special menu for this evening," you proclaim while holding out your hand after an exaggerated flourish.

"I'm listening." The man raises one eyebrow while keeping his arms crossed.

"May I interest you in the finest and freshest venison you've ever tasted in your entire life?" You ask with a deviously fiendish smirk, arm outstretched and beckoning.

"Venison?" He replied incredulously.

"Well, it's not like this forest just has a bunch of wild bulls roaming around. And since someone destroyed my changing room, I can't just mosey on back to Konoha for dinner." The thought of procuring dinner for the two of you ignited a primal urge that was welling up inside of you like a tsunami, a tumultuous tempest growing stronger by the second.

"It might not be that steak dinner you were hoping for, but this will be an experience of a lifetime. I promise. Wolf's honor." 

Kiba could sense the excitement in your voice. And it's true, there was nothing that aroused your senses more than the thrill of the hunt and the very moment when your canines punctured the supple flesh of your unsuspecting prey. 

"Alright, you know what? Sure," he acquiesced. "How can I say no to a face like that?"

That's all you needed to hear. With a quick nod and a seductive wink you responded, "Wait here, sugar. I'll be right back."

You'd already been listening for those unmistakable subtle murmurs, the heartbeats of your prey. 25 meters northeast. There it was. You instinctively transformed your hands into claws and sharpened your canines, the blistering pain heightening your senses even further.

A few more meters and it was in view, a delectable yet unsuspecting doe. You perched yourself in a nearby tree bough before inhaling slowly through your mouth. You could practically taste the umami in the air. You dug your claws partially into the tree bark, bracing yourself for the best part of any dinner, the kill.

You bellow a fierce growl as you jump down from the aging oak and delve into your target with an ardent vehemence. When your nails vigorously pierce the pliable frame, you're overcome by a sense of unadulterated euphoria. You can feel the life seep out of your victim and onto your claws, the red nectar painting your nails a gorgeous hue. A wave of exhilaration hits as you feel the young deer twitch and resist against you.

I'll never get tired of this, you think to yourself, a sinister smirk emerging on your face. After all, this is the closest I'll get to feeling alive again. After a few more seconds of riding this high you decide to put your prey out of its misery. With an impressive amount of force you ruthlessly chomp down on its jugular, the doe's body going limp almost instantaneously. You swear you could almost feel the deer's soul leaving its tattered vessel. The thought sends a merciless chill down your spine.

Guess I still got a little bit of humanity left in me after all of these years, you chide at yourself, who woulda guessed?

You hoisted the ragged body of your prey onto your back, supporting it with one of your claws while admiring the other. Damn this shade of red really is to die for, you chortled as you marveled at the splotchy tint covering your nails and most of your arm. Well, you think to yourself as you adjust the deer on your back to a more comfortable and secure position, I shouldn't keep him waiting much longer now, should I?

You were feeling especially giddy on the walk back, sauntering with a lithe stride and huge smile on your blood-spattered face. The ecstasy from earlier steadfastly persisting despite the flow of time, the lingering scent of your delicious meal keeping it from dissipating fully. As you grew closer to your meeting spot, though, the bliss was covertly being replaced with nagging twangs of anxiety. You remembered that there was an unfortunate drawback to dinner this evening, you'd have to be vulnerable with a human and share the strange details about your paradoxical existence that even you didn't fully understand.

"Back so soon, princess?" You heard a familiar voice ring out, cutting through the loitering anxiety with a dulcet effervescence.

"Do you need some help ther-

Oh gosh, you're covered in blood. Are you okay?" A confused yet profound weight clung onto his words.

"I'm more than okay," you smiled as you readjusted today's kill with one spry motion, "I'm practically giddy, you could say. Don't you think this shade of red is simply ravishing?"

You could see the look of horror on his face as you sauntered closer. And why wouldn't he be intimidated? It's not every day you see a young woman with the carcass of a mangled corpse slumped over her shoulders, shrouded in a sanguine veil.

"What's wrong? Wolf's got your tongue?" you chuckled as a self-assured smirk involuntarily took over your countenance.

"You're just so-" he appeared as though he was lost in thought, as if the words that described the monstrosity before him simply escaped from his mind's tenuous grasp.

"So what?" you had to stop yourself from giggling.

"So..." he put his hand up to his face, covering it partially, "so freakin' hot when you're all covered in blood like that. Sorry, I need a minute."

Did he just say "hot?" So he's not terrified of the anomalous atrocity standing before him? That was a new one. Usually anyone who witnessed you in this state would have already ran for their lives. But I guess he's just too cocky, or maybe too dumb to realize just who, or rather what he asked out on a dinner date. You know, you think to yourself, I didn't expect our "date" to make it this far. By now most men are long gone, and I'd be enjoying this feast in my solitude. But this idiot is still here, which means I really do have to tell him the truth, don't I?

An extended silence filled the stale air with an insidious touch of peril that grew ever stronger with each passing second. The corpse on your back began to stiffen, rigor mortis setting in with an uncaring indifference to your conundrum.

"Did you," his voice trails off, breaking the silence briefly before the quiet takes hold once again.

"Did I?" you manage to jabber, your pulse quickening as the anticipation stimulates your nervous system.

"Did you really kill that deer for me? A whole deer just for me? Wow, I can't believe you had me speechless for a minute there. Me? Of all people?" he blabbered as he put one of his hands behind his head, his head shaking ever so slightly from the incredulity of this entire situation.

"Not just for you," you retort in a shaky voice. There he goes again with that unmistakable haughtiness in his tone. Your trepidation turns into irritation as you regain control over your psyche once more. "There's no way you'd be able to eat all of this anyways."

"You wanna bet?" a smug grin was beginning to form on his face.

"Sure," you acquiesce while shrugging," If you can't eat every last bite then you leave the forest and never come back," you proposition, calling his bluff with an equal level of impudence.

"Hey now, that wasn't the plan. You promised me a dinner date, and we're going to have a date, princess," he declared as he crossed his arms, keeping full eye contact with you the entire time. "Or do I have to detain you and bring you back to the station for questioning? There's probable cause that illegal hunting was-"

"T-that won't be necessary," you bite your tongue a little as you stutter out the words.

"Good girl, that's what I like to hear." His expression lightened as he beamed a radiant smile in your direction. "But before we begin the festivities, I need you to answer one thing for me."

Goodbye sweet solitude, it was nice knowing you. Well, it's better to just get it over with and break the bone fully so that the fractured splinters of my existence can be set properly. The first step to recovery is acknowledging that I fucked up royally, and there's no denying that.

"You're a-" he began, but was cut off by your curt response before he could utter the repugnant word.

"A werewolf, yes."

"So, you're not denying it?" his tone was an octave higher than usual, spurred on by his astonishment.

"It can't be helped. You saw me transform. More than once. Even a monster knows when it's checkmate," you sigh as you lower your prey to the ground, placing the pallid body gingerly on the dry earth. "Tsumi," you say as you slowly rise back up, eyes closed and hands out with your palms up. "Even a golden general is still just a pawn once that thin veneer is washed away."

"What are you doing?" You hear a voice drawing closer to your body, heavy footsteps crunching the mid-autumn leaves.

"Are you really going to make me say it?" you exclaim with your eyes still shut tightly, holding back a few tears so desperately trying to make their escape.

"Listen, princess, I-"

"If you're going to arrest me just do it already!" you screech, using all of your might to hold back the onslaught of tears on the cusp of breaching the barricade of your eyelids. "Just please don't go after my pack! You can do whatever you want with me, all I ask is that you spare them."

"Who said anything about arresting you?"

"You did," you sniffled, looking up at the man with a few meandering teardrops clouding your vision slightly, "multiple times."

"Me? Arrest you? Never," he reached out to brush a few strands of your hair away from your eyes. "I really don't like making girls cry, it makes me feel like a total jackass," he said as he tried to hold your gaze in vain. It was impossible for you to maintain eye contact with him, your sense of self-loathing at what you had become weighed you down with an insurmountable amount of pressure.

"But isn't it your job to lock away monsters like me?" you whimpered while averting your eyes from the man.

"I could never detain a girl as pretty as you, unless it's for house arrest."

"I don't have a house," you respond flatly, cautiously glancing up to meet the man's surprisingly jovial disposition.

"Who said anything about your house? I have a pad too," Kiba said while puffing out his chest and pointing to himself, "It might not be that big since Kōtarō has been extra stingy with this year's raise, but all we need is one bedroom, right?"

This man. This cheeky ass bastard. He did just see you transform, right? And yet he chooses to hit on you relentlessly. He's either unbelievably fearless or he has a death wish. Either way, you can't help but admire his audacity. The sheer absurdity of his responses to you dispels your apprehension and you begin to chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Kiba furrows his brow as he places one hand on his chin.

"You," it was incredibly hard for you to suppress your laughter long enough to continue your jive, "You seriously just invited me into your house. Me? The werewolf. The queen of abominations herself?"

"I said what I said," he countered with a sour expression.

"Sorry, I just," you take a second to inhale, regaining the breath you lost to the overwhelming humor of the situation, "I don't think I've met a human this crazy since Hidan."

"Wait, Hidan?" Kiba's countenance changed instantaneously as soon as the words left your bloodied lips. 

"Yeah, you know him or something?" you shrugged with a detached tone in your voice.

"Know him?" You could feel the palpable indignation, festering with a sharp ferocity, "he killed my sensei's lover."

"Ouch. Yeah, he does tend to do that," you realize that you may have made a fatal mistake by bringing up Hidan's name.

"Wait, how do you know him??" The look of disgust evident on Kiba's face pierced through the remnants of your frail barricade.

"Oh well, once upon a time we may have had... a fling or two." You resigned yourself to the fact that you'd divulged too much and there was no turning back.

"A fling? Wait, aren't you a little too young for that? You don't look a day over twenty five."

"Aww, you really know how to flatter a gal. Try adding a century to that, and you'll be a bit closer to my actual age." There's no use in lying now, if he can handle that I'm a monster, then what's the harm in sharing this with him too?

"A... century?" The question was more for himself than for you. It seemed like he was performing calculus, the numbers dancing in his imagination like infernal reminders of the circumstance he found himself in. Steadfastly approaching the limit to infinity, but never quite reaching the apex of the function.

"So you're... 125 years old?" It looks like he was finally ready to submit his self-imposed mathematics assignment, but the answer key was obscured by the enigma of your presence.

"Give or take a few years. Birthdays aren't as magical after you hit one hundred, a painful reminder more than anything else, if I'm being honest." Your eyes lost their lustre as you reminisced about the kin you'd lost over the years, those who would never again be there to celebrate with you. "Heh, well not like I'd expect you to understand."

"But you're telling me Hidan does understand?"

Jeez, was he seriously still on that? It was just a silly little affair, a trite nonissue really. Damn, he must really hate Hidan, you think to yourself. Maybe you could use his jealousy to your advantage though, if you play your cards right.

"Wellll," you draw out the word with a long, purposeful drawl.

"Well?" Kiba scoffs, mimicking your tone.

After a minute of silence you retort with, "It's not like there's tons of immortals I can pick and choose from, unless there's an underground society of sickos I never got the invite to. Maybe it's nice to connect with someone who shares the same life experiences once in a while," you say as you look off into the distance, unearthing the buried memories you'd kept tucked away for years.

"Life experiences? And what exactly are these so-called 'experiences'? Does homicide count?"

"Hey, that was one time, and he upskirted me first," you smirk as you hold out an index finger for emphasis. Unbeknownst to you, your head shakes involuntarily as you utter those words. 

You were met with a revulsive glance that was all too familiar. Good, maybe he'll stay away from me now. He doesn't need to know you stretched the truth a bit. The reality is that you'd sworn off unnecessary interaction with humans for decades now because you didn't want to hurt them. The only reason you let yourself become close with Hidan was because of his immortality.

"You're lying," Kiba candidly declares as he shoots a disapproving look in your direction.

"W-what makes you think that?" you ask as you take one of your hands and mindlessly stroke the front of your neck.

"Actions speak louder than words, princess. You can barely maintain eye contact, there were unnaturally long pauses between your responses, and not to mention you're stimulating your vagus nerve right now, whether you're aware of it or not," Kiba proclaimed as a smug expression returned to his face. "C'mon now, you didn't think you'd be able to fool me that easily? Even a rookie would be able to recognize the contradictions in your statements."

You bite your lip hard in response to those pointed accusations. It looks like you'd have to approach this from another angle.

"I plead the fifth," you say as you raise your hands in concession, "You win this time, officer. But before we continue this little chat of ours, why don't we start dinner preparations before it gets too late?" The limp body of your fallen prey had been nestled next to you this whole time, but its presence was overshadowed by the gravity of the conundrum you found yourself in.

"Okay," Kiba said, humoring your feeble attempt to change the conversation, "but I'm not leaving until I'm fully satisfied."

"You won't have to worry about that. I'll definitely satiate my honored guest's hunger," you said with a slight bow, hand partially outstretched.

"Heh, I look forward to it with bated breath." You could hear the pace of Kiba's heartbeat intensify ever so slightly when those words escaped his lips.

"So, do you need help butchering the-"

"I got it," you flatly interject. You shifted your focus from the man to the carcass of your delectably succulent spoils.

"Wow, so I get dinner and a show? Color me impressed." The candor with which Kiba responded tickled your fancy.

Oh, I'll give you a show, alright.

After a terse nod you cracked your neck and knuckles with an intense vehemence. You fish in your satchel for the gambrel and rope you'd prepared beforehand. One deft toss later, your rope is securely fastened onto a sturdy bough and all ready for you to hoist up your catch. As you walk towards the corpse you instinctively sharpen your claws and grab onto the body with a fervid vigor. After a few seconds and one big heave later, the object commanding your full attention beckons for your inner beast with an arousing aura.

You intuitively glide your razor-sharp nails through the layers of flesh, separating the skin from the muscle with an effortless prowess. You carefully and neatly place the deer's hide on the ground next to you before returning to work. A deafening crack assaulted Kiba's eardrums as you forcibly placed enough pressure on the doe's neck to sever its head. Another few merciless swipes from your sanguine claws and a harsh thud from the deer's front legs falling to the ground, accompanying the cacophonous melody of murder. The first part of your dinner preparations were now complete.

You flash Kiba a mischievous smile before refocusing on the task at hand, at claw, rather. You work your talons parallel to the deer's rib cage, passing through the shoulder joint with a terrifying expertise. You then spend a few minutes shaving off the excess fat before sinking your claws into the area just under the hip bone, slicing from there to the doe's back bone with an effortless, fluid motion. You run your nails down and along the back bone of your catch while making a concerted effort to not leave any morsels behind. With one more callous swat of your claws the delicious flesh is freed from its ligamentary penitentiary.

You return your focus to the deer's neck, and with a cruel indifference you meticulously tore the meat off of the bone with aplomb. A few more slices to the rib cage and your pile of gamey goodness grew substantially. It was almost time for the grand finale. Another savage snap emitted yet another barbaric rasp into the air, catching your company off guard, as evidenced by the disquieted winces you could see in the peripherals of your vision. With more than half of your prey fully dissected, it was now time to redirect your attention to the deer's hind quarters. You begin by puncturing the sinews near the knee and slice parallel with the leg bone, reaching the hip within mere seconds. After rotating your hand a few degrees, you effortlessly extract the most dazzling sirloin tips.

Damn, I'm good at this.

With a rapturous chortle you flash Kiba the most self indulgent grin. He was nothing but a hapless buck caught in the blinding light of your exhilarating, intoxicating yet oh so ephemeral exuberance. The squelching sound of the doe's innards as you inserted your nails just under the achilles tendon and pressed in with an inhuman apathy resonated throughout the surrounding area, a cautionary warning to all of the forest's inhabitants. As you unshackle the rest of the meat from the hind legs you look up once more at your dinner date. The countenance that greeted you could only be described by one word, awe. Pure, unadulterated awe.

You pick up the slabs of shoulder meat and begin to diligently clean it with your claws. Trimming the excess fat was always the most laborious part of your meal prep, but perhaps having the company of someone else today was an adequate remedy for the tedium. Once you sufficiently spruce up a generous portion of the meat, you offer a hefty chunk of it to your companion. You're greeted with a look of confusion that reminds you of your grotesque nature once more.

"Oh yeah, humans don't eat raw meat," you mull as you're overcome by a fit of hysterics. The dichotomy of your two very different existences was too much for your brain to process right now.

"Is that a challenge, princess? If it's good enough for you, it sure as hell is good enough for me," Kiba responded while puffing out his chest with an air of arrogance.

"I'd rather our date be here and not in a hospital room," you respond while trying to suppress the laughter, a tenuous attempt at regaining your composure. "C'mon, let's start a fire and you can taste a bit of my cooking. I might not be that great of a chef, but the ingredients will be the freshest you've ever had."

"Well, when you put it that way, how can I possibly refuse?" You could see a wave of relief wash over Kiba's face. It turns out he wasn't the only one who could sniff out someone's deceit. "Next time, though, I'll definitely have it raw."

"Of course you will." Wait, next time? Did he just insinuate that this wasn't going to be a one and done affair? Haven't you frightened him enough for one day? Talk about a real glutton for punishment.

"Alright, I need to clean up over here, so if you'd gather some firewood that'd be much appreciated." You leisurely walk towards the gambrel and unhook it from the tree's bough.

"Damn, so no special fire jutsu that will flambé us up some dinner in a flash?" You could sense a budding ripple of disappointment circulate the air around Kiba.

"No special tricks or theatrics here. What you see is what you get."

"You're not holding out on me again, are you, princess?" Kiba was almost whimpering at this point, just like a pup who lost his favourite ball in the river.

"No. I'm not," you respond flatly, an unenthusiastic expression overtaking your face. "Now go get that firewood. And s-stop calling me your princess." At this point you begin to feel the warmth build up in your cheeks, an untimely and unfortunate betrayal by your sympathetic nervous system.

"Was that the slightest bit of hesitation in your voice, princess?" You didn't even have to look over to see Kiba's expression because you could feel the omnipresence of his self-satisfied simper.

"Just go already!" you exclaim while trying to hide your face.

"Alright, princess. I'll be back soon. Don't miss me too much, okay?" You could hear his cocky guffaws as he walked off into the depths of the forest.

Jeez, talk about confidence. Does he have no sense of shame? If only I could be half as self-assured as he was, you ponder to yourself while cleaning up the makeshift slaughterhouse around you. You partitioned out a few chunks of venison for tonight's dinner. I wonder how much he'll want to eat? Wait, why do I care about what he wants? He should be grateful he gets any of this, of my kill.

You find yourself on autopilot as you amble about the nearby area, tidying up the trimmings caught in the thickets and the entrails splattered on the rocks. You weren't sure how much time had passed since you began clearing the area, but you were certain that it must have been a rather lengthy period since the cool veil of twilight now gently embraced your surroundings.

Hm. Maybe he did give up and hightail it out of here. I guess that means I'm free to head back-

"Heyyy!" The shrill baritone interrupts your thoughts. "Sorry it took me a while, princess." You could hear that Kiba was breathing heavier than normal as he drew closer to your meeting spot.

"Oh, you're back," you hesitantly mutter. 

"Hey, is that anyway to greet a guy who brought you this?" Kiba confidently stretches his arm out, opening up his clenched hand to reveal a lighter.

"I don't smoke," you respond with a perplexed expression, baffled by his rather dubious choice of a peace offering.

"It's not for lighting cigarettes, silly. It's for the fire."

"The fire?" Oh no, don't tell me he-

"Yeah, remember how you said you can't use fire jutsu? Well neither can I, so I thought this would come in handy!" Kiba had the biggest, most dopey yet smug grin on his face. It almost made you feel guilty that the deer wasn't the only thing that would be roasted tonight.

He doesn't know how to light a fire. One of the top investigators for the Konoha Military Police Force can't light a simple campfire.

You stifle the urge to break out into hysterics over this new information you were now privy to. "I know how to light a fire. That's one of the most basic skills anyone could have."

Kiba's face became instantaneously flushed as he scrambles to hide the lighter in his back pocket. "Y-yeah well, I was just trying to make your life a bit easier. That's all. Jeez, it's not like I assumed you were a helpless damsel in distre-"

"You know what would make my life easier right now?" you interject before he can finish his ramblings.

"What?"

"If you sit down, keep quiet, and just let me handle dinner. You did bring the firewood, right?" You asked as you peered over at his suspiciously empty hands.

"O-of course I did! Who do you think I am? Kiba Inuzuka always completes his missions... when he's not busy on a more important mission, that is." You could hear the confidence dissipate from his voice with every word he spoke.

"You completely forgot, didn't you?"

"Well, you see. I uh-"

You let out a weary, heavy sigh as you beckon for him to come closer. "Lucky for you, since I had so much extra time just waiting for my dinner date's return, I was able to grab more than enough branches for us."

"See? All part of my plan!" He began to nervously chuckle as you put your hand on his shoulder and guided him to the impromptu campsite you had prepared in his absence.

As you make your way to the clearing, the wafting mid-autumn breeze tousles the strands of your hair with a cool yet affectionate caress. It was closer to dusk now, and the stars shining above you began to solemnly dance in the night sky with a poignant melancholy. Every step closer that you take brings with it a feeling of profound grief, an emotion spurred on by the uncanny familiarity of the situation you now find yourself in. This reminds me so much of when I first met him, you think to yourself as you take those final strides to the campsite, your company following closely by your side.

You silently take a seat on some rocks next to the campfire. Since you had ample time to make preparations while Kiba was gone, all of the supplies you needed for a scrumptious dinner were laid out in front of you both.

"Wow, you really know how to treat a guy!" Kiba blurts out with a boisterous, howling laugh. "Seriously, you set all of this up just for me?"

"I told you, I always pay back my debts in spades," you couldn't bring yourself to look at Kiba right now. The haunting grip of your past restricted your movement, shackling and confining you in an inescapable and ruthless prison of recollections.

"And pay me back you shall," Kiba chimes in while reaching over you to grab two pieces of venison, tenderly placing one in your hand. "So why don't we start with an easy question?"

I guess it's better to just get it over with. The sooner we're done here, the sooner I can make my way back home. You take a voracious bite out of the chunk of venison and swallow harshly with an audible gulp. You then muster up enough willpower to look in Kiba's direction.

Geez, why does he always have to be smiling like such an idiot? What's there to smile about, anyways? This has been an absolutely awfu-

"This has been an absolutely wonderful day, princess." His words cut through your thoughts like a honed katana. "I don't think I've had this much excitement in years. You sure do know how to keep a guy on his toes. I would say that this has to be one of the best days I've ever had, but..."

And here it comes. You could already feel the frigid metal clasps around your wrists, tightening with an unyielding force. The freedom you worked so tirelessly to achieve would now be gone in an instant.

"...why did you have to ruin the mood by mentioning another guy's name?"

"Huh?" The shock from his last statement left you paralyzed in a stupor of astonishment.

"Don't you 'huh?' me. I know you know what or rather who I'm talking about."

Oh. Hidan. He's talking about Hidan. Damn, he's really taking this whole situation out of proportion.

"You're seriously still thinking about Hidan?" When Hidan's name escapes your lips your voice goes up an octave.

"I don't know, are you still thinking about him?" Kiba retorts with a snarky reproach.

"It was a fling. A simple hookup, nothing more."

"You said there were multiple flings earlier."

Goddamn, you can't deny the fact that Kiba's attention to detail when it comes to recalling your past statements is extraordinary. If you wanted to get this conversation moving in the right direction you'd have to reluctantly swallow your pride once more.

"Okay, yes. We hooked up a few times throughout the course of my... alt phase."

"Alt... phase?"

"Y'know, like, dressing in alternative fashion and listening to grunge? Jeez, I'm kind of embarrassed thinking about how I used to be back then." You look off to the side while fidgeting with the remains of the hunk of meat in your palm. "I was just angry at everything and tired of the world. He was there to satisfy that weird craving I had to self-harm and..."

Kiba's expression changed as soon as he heard those last few words you spoke. Even he must have felt the profound sadness and despair that clung to your morose disclosure.

"Let's forget about him, okay? I think it's safe to say you'll never see him again." Kiba's voice had a softness to it now that soothed your frayed nerves.

"Wow, such confidence in your voice. Do you know something I don't?" Your curiosity was piqued, and you couldn't help but ask for confirmation.

"He's as good as dead." Kiba nodded with an assurance that was difficult to question.

"As good as dead? Are we talking about the same person?" Your eyes widen as you process that last statement.

"One of my old classmates dismembered him. But honestly? If I knew he was going to hit on you, I would have done the job myself." Kiba cracked his neck as he snarled out those last few words.

"Hidan... is dismembered?" You start chuckling to yourself as you imagine what he must look like right now, "Why, that's the funniest thing I've heard all year, all century even!"

You took a moment to regain your composure before you continued, "I always thought that one day his excessive confidence would lead to his downfall. Thank you for sharing that with me."

"Hey, princess. As much as I like to laugh with you about your pathetic ex, I think it'd be better if we just enjoyed the rest of tonight without worrying about stuff like that." Kiba placed one arm around your shoulder while inching himself closer to you. "Tonight it's just you, me, and the stars."

"You know what? I think that's actually a splendid idea." You let out a hushed sigh of relief as he cuddled closer to you.

Just this once, you think to yourself, for just one night maybe it wouldn't be so bad to let a human in.

"I do have one final question, though, before we move onto the main course." Kiba delicately placed his hand under your chin, lifting up your face so that you had no choice but to look in his glistening eyes.

"And what, pray tell, would that be?" you eloquently inquire with a quick and slightly exaggerated flourish of your hands.

"Are you really over 100 years old?" 

"Heh, but of course." You couldn't help but answer in a sultry manner, flashing your fangs at the end of your statement, restraining yourself from biting into his neck.

You could see Kiba gesturing, doing a little victory pose as he uttered those next words, "Score. I love me a fine cougar, erm I mean wolf."

Gosh, he's so dumb. So dumb yet so clever at the same time, especially when it came to him sussing out the truth from you. The crass sense of humor emanating from this man only enhanced his inexplicable charm. It had been a long time, a very long time since you felt like this.

"You better watch out. I heard the big bad wolf has a way of eating out the hearts of unsuspecting travelers 'round these parts. Especially on full moons like tonight." The luminescent reflection of the moon bounced off of Kiba's eyes as you stared into them.

"I guess it's a good thing someone already has my heart under lock and key."

Just this one night. I'll allow myself to let go, one night can't hurt. Can it?

----- TO BE CONTINUED -----

[justsome-di]

Andy & Syan: Modern AU (excerpt)

A delinquent breaks into her sick best friend's home. I've been writing a modern short story for my own Fairest of All Stars bc I think these funky lesbians are cool

So, Andy goes about her favorite past time—going through Syan’s stuff. There’s nothing new on her shelves and dresser but one necklace. Most likely from her mother. It’s not Syan’s style, and nothing her mother ever buys for her is. It still sits in its box on a square of cotton. The silver chain blends in with it. But a dainty gem of amethyst stands out. Bright purple against stark white. Andy will ask later if Syan wants to pawn the necklace or sell it online for twice than what it’s really worth, making up some significance about its origin or forging. They can use the money to buy junk food and nicer booze than Andy usually has in her apartment. She thinks about pocketing the necklace, but she decides against it. Syan might want to keep it after all.

Andy weaves her way to the bookshelf by Syan’s bed. Never a great reader, Syan has shelves of graphic novels and fantasy series meant for young children. Along the top shelves are rows of sheet music from years ago, never touched after high school. Andy reaches for one, but the shelf is a little too tall. There’s no stool around because Syan is tall enough that she doesn’t need things like stools. Andy stretches and gets to her toes and her fingers just barely brush the folders. She pulls one forward after snagging her finger on the edge, but instead of carefully pulling it down, it topples to the floor with three other folders. Andy grimaces at her casualties and then raises her head to see Syan staring at her, her usual frown peeking out from her pink blanket. “You’re awake!” Andy says. “Good.” She climbs onto Syan’s bed and claims a pillow about half the size of her body. “Sick?” Andy asks.

She wishes she has more capacity for outward sympathy. The way she asks if Syan is sick sounds too casual and too flippant. Anyone else, Andy wouldn’t care. Caring about people isn’t really something she has ever been good at. Syan nods pathetically, rubbing her fingers over her eyes. Like this, with her hair in a messy bun half-fallen out and with her face pale and dull, she still manages to look beautiful. Freckles line her cheeks and nose. Her eyelashes flutter as she tries waking up. The extensions she got last week are holding on strong. Andy thinks all the beauty stuff Syan gets done is a waste. Not because she doesn’t need them—which is true. Syan has a sort of freaky, ethereal beauty about her. But because they always get ruined. Her nails were manicured last week but are now jagged and uneven from their beach trip that weekend when they dug through the sand and climbed on the rocks. Her lashes never hold as long as Andy thinks they should, and she suspects Syan plucks them off herself. She gets all these expensive treatments for her hair, but ocean water washes them all away.

Syan spends her parents’ money just to spend it. She’s always resented their wealth and by extension, has always resented her parents. In retaliation, Syan buys stupid stuff and goes through continuous beauty maintenance that costs roughly the same amount as Andy’s rent every month. It’s benefited Andy more than a few times. She gets fancy dinners out of it though she never fits in at the swanky joints Syan takes her to. For her birthday one year, Syan bought her a cool antique sword. While it was supposed to be for display only, Andy and her roommate took turns swinging it around their apartment and putting nicks in their second-hand furniture. “Do you want to do any sick activities?” Andy asks. There are about a dozen sick activities they can do depending on how well Syan can move around. “We can listen to Chappell Roan.” “No.” “We can listen to Mitski.” “No.” “We can… play a video game? We can play Doom?” “No.” “What do you want?” “For you to stop asking me questions.” Syan throws her arm over her eyes. Andy rubs her own shoulder. It’s tender from a fading sunburn. The skin has started to lift and peel off, and Andy has been leaving little pieces of herself everywhere she goes like a disgusting lizard. She wiggles off the bed and continues going through Syan’s things. On her desk is her laptop for her part-time gig as an editor for musical scores. Andy doesn’t understand what she really does, but she knows that every time Syan talks about music—good music, not the shit her family has forced on her or the stuff she edits—Andy can’t look away. Syan’s face softens from its usual stone-hard roughness. Her shoulders relax, and her fingers twitch in time to the melody or time signature she’s describing. Or whatever she talks about. Andy doesn’t listen. She can’t listen. she’s always too captivated by Syan herself to focus on her words.

Next to her laptop is a rock that Andy picked up for her during their last beach outing. It looked cool to Andy with one jagged edge and a smooth body. There’s little flecks of something sparkly on the edge where it had cracked. “Do you want to watch a movie?” Andy asks. Syan doesn’t respond right away, and Andy thinks that she got her. “What movie?” Syan asks. “What do you want to watch?” Andy knows her favorite comfort movie. “The Exorcist?” Syan nods. She owns a pirated copy, ripped from Andy’s collection of MP4 files on her trusty computer. Syan wanted to buy a copy. After half-listening to Andy’s usual rant about how art should be free, how the movie made millions already, Syan had told her to burn a DVD for her (if only to get Andy to stop talking). Andy slips the disc in Syan’s DVD player and finds the remote for the flat screen TV mounted across from her bed. She climbs back into bed with Syan.

[physicalturian]

[18+] Salvaged Love - Hanma Shuji x F!Reader - Part 3

[The plot of this work follows previous works in this series] [She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] [Varied POV/chapter]

Words : 10 333

Playlist : link

Archiveofourown

Warnings : Reader-Insert // Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con // Canon-Typical Violence // Graphic Description // Graphic Description of Corpses // Dubious Ethics // Explicit Language // Blood and Injury //

If some managed to take time for themselves and relax, he couldn’t have that luxury.

From being given a boring mission to receiving a call from his girl in pure panic, he couldn’t catch a break. Hanma knew she had been going through an episode, as he would call them. She had been growing a bit too unstable for his liking and it was thoroughly demonstrated when, out of nowhere, he got a text from her telling him she wouldn’t be home when he returned.

Hanma’s anger was rising—not at the audacity of sending that text, but at the stupidity of her action. Her little game was not going to change shit, nor was it going to make him go home earlier. If Mikey wanted him out there, tailing some random people from his gang, then he would do it. It was the easiest shit to him; boring and time-consuming, sure, but easy. All he had to do was follow people around, and he was good at it. He knew how to fit in a crowd if he wanted to, but where was the fun in that? People were always more responsive if they saw him as he was and he never minded it.

Everyone was intimidated by him.

Except for her.

At least, that was the only excuse he could find to justify such a stupid text from her. Of course, he was fast to tell her off, to tell her to send him her location. He thought for a second, how stupid can she be?

Because no one would be this cryptic after almost being shot—she was a target of that stupid gang that was after Bonten, and she still acted out. If she was not replying right now, Hanma knew she would never reply, that she wanted him to chase her. If that's what she wanted, he would give it to her.

But not right now.

Putting his phone aside, he rolled his eyes with a loud sigh, “I got other shit to do than this.” He grunted, his head hitting the back of the car seat while his fingers drummed on the steering wheel in an effort to keep himself awake. The big fancy word Mikey used was reconnaissance, but it was just stalking. He was put on fucking stalking duty to try and find out who was the snitch, who was stupid enough to run up to another gang and give them information. Frankly, Hanma thought it was as stupid as it was respectable, only to some extent. 

Being that crazy to turn on Bonten was commendable.

But being crazy enough to betray the biggest crime organization by being a new gang’s bitch? They knew what it took for that snitch to turn on Bonten, what would assure them that person wouldn’t turn on that very gang right back? Hanma scoffed, about to grab a cigarette and light it out of boredom but he quickly put the pack back in his pocket when he remembered he couldn’t be noticed—smoke from a car was not lowkey.

“For fuck’s sake, this is bullshit.” And as he said so, his eyes that had never left the target widened only slightly at the sight of the person being shot down in the middle of the street. The bullet had come from the alley cutting across from the main street. Quirking a brow, his attention was piqued as he smiled to himself, waiting to see if someone would walk out of there. Then, right on time, a man dressed in a suit stepped onto the empty main street.

Hanma shook his head, bringing his cigarette to his lips but not lighting it as he let out, “Cheap ass suit.” under his breath. He debated internally if he should just kill the fucker that had taken down a member of his organization, but he was not there to take action in the name of anyone. He was there to observe, so he did.

He could have lowered himself in his seat, but why would he?

Instead, he opened his window and lit his cigarette, puffing out the smoke, “Need help?” He called out, face leaning out of the window. The man turned around in panic and shot in his direction. That was all he needed to know this man was no one important. Probably an insect-on-insect crime, meaningless stuff. He had been sent on a dead-end errand, a trail that led to nothing. Grinning, he started the car and drove full speed towards the man who fell on his ass after tumbling on the dead body in front of him. Hanma stopped the car instantly, opening his door and stepping out without thinking through his plan for more than a few seconds.

A couple steps and he was towering over the idiot that was scrambling to his senses, gun aimed in an attempt to protect himself. Hanma shook his head, tutting the—now, clearly—boy in front of him.

“You barely look 20, you’re basically a newborn.”

Smirking, he leaned closer and grabbed his cigarette, pressing it against the boy’s forehead, his screams of pain probably awakening everyone who lived nearby. “There, baptized ya.” He whispered, “Now shush.” He brought his finger to his mouth in a gesture to keep it quiet. The boy dropped the gun and was about to place his hand on his forehead to soothe the injury when Hanma groaned and kicked him in the face, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him off the wet ground. “This is the foreplay, cut the wailing already.”

But the boy was sobbing now.

How boring. How useless.

“Baby needs his sucky?” He mocked, “Aight then.” Hanma dropped the man back on the ground, taking the gun before shoving it in the man’s mouth, effectively shutting him up. “There! Wasn’t that easy?” He spat each word, accompanying them by pressing the gun, twisting it, removing its safety and placing his finger on the trigger. The young man on the floor nodded, eyes filled with terror.

Hanma did not have time to waste on this guy, but he knew he had to milk him for whatever information he had. “I’m not gonna torture you, you can breathe.” As he said that, he took the gun out of the younger one’s mouth and tucked it in the holster inside of his vest. A short smile was all he gave before grabbing him by the ankle and dragging him to his car, “And I’m exhausted, I don’t wanna deal with you.” Hanma said off-handedly, as if this was part of his daily life.

This was something the boy at his feet was not used to, being manhandled. He cried, “No, please let me go, please! I promise I won’t say anything to anyone!”

“I should be saying that, you’re the one responsible for the dead body out on the street.” Hanma said mockingly before helping the man over his shoulder and tossing him inside his trunk. He immediately grabbed some tape and wrapped it around the man’s face, making sure to go over his mouth a few times before cutting it and doing the same to his wrists, ankles, elbows and knees. “Don’t be scared, yeah?” Then he disappeared from view, the boy in the trunk shaking in fear as he tried to wriggle his way out of his bindings in vain.

Only a few moments after, he sobbed in shock and disgust when Hanma walked up to the trunk once more with the dead body over his shoulders. “This one’s yours, right? It’ll keep you company.” With a smirk, he tossed the body over the boy and slammed the trunk shut. It was much more practical to shove both of them in there rather than risking the weasel escaping from the backseat. 

Letting out a long sigh, Hanma grabbed his phone and tossed the gun on the passenger seat; he had never been fond of such fancy weapons. He found it much more enjoyable to use his fists, or, if a situation called for it, a knife or more fun tools rather than guns. Guns were the weapon of the weak, it was too easy to get your hands on one, to aim and pull the trigger—and a lot less satisfying. There was no thrill, no energy spent in the fight, no proving that you had the upper hand.

Two idiots could aim a gun at one another, brainlessly listening to orders, unaware of what it truly meant to brandish that.

Two fighters knew to respect one another’s strength, should a brawl start. They were aware of the damage being done, it was much easier to gauge—to reign it in, or lose yourself into it. Hanma loved to play with that thin line between control and the all too easy indulgence of letting go, he relished in it. It had been too long since he had gotten in a proper fistfight that got him going. Nowadays, it was weak people. Cockroaches. Nobodies. They never gave him a fight.

He had once wondered if that was why he had been so interested in her.

Was it because she had fought him, albeit being completely aware that all it took was one wrong move and she could have died? Or was it that even as he was molding her, she struggled against his hold all while reaching out to him? Like a rabbit in boiling water, she tried to jump out onto his arm to save herself. He reveled in those days of having her nails digging inside him, all her claw marks and the feeling of her struggling against him.

That was the appeal, knowing she was probably as insane as he was, as insane as he needed her to be. But he knew better than to bathe in the satisfaction of having made her as she was, because he also knew it would not end well if she continued down that road. Something needed to go differently this time. If not, he would have done all of this for nothing. He couldn’t care less about whatever those two idiots had to say to try to stop him, he had to change things up—even if it meant twisting their carefully-made plans.

Exhaling loudly, Hanma called Sanzu and started the car, already driving off to one of their warehouses.

“What.” Sanzu spat.

“Trail was a bust, the target is dead–”

“Who fucking told you to kill one of ours?” Ah, Hanma enjoyed how easy it was to set Sanzu off, but at this very moment he was pissed at the tone he had used. At the lack of faith he was being shown. Still, he added in a calm manner, “Trust me a little, I got other shit to do. I’m bringing you the idiot that shot him though, I’ll be at warehouse 8 in ten minutes.” Hanma explained.

Huffing a laugh, Sanzu nodded to himself, “Just leave him in one of the crates, Mikey sent me home so I’ll deal with him tomorrow.”

“Mommy sent you home ‘cause you tired? Oh, ain’t that adorable.” Hanma mocked with a beaming smile.

He was met with the end of the call. It did not phase him much as he tossed his phone by the gun and did just as Sanzu had instructed. The tied-up boy had long since fainted, which made it all easier.

The final stop of the night was another warehouse that was further off, away from all the noise in the city, from any eyes or curious minds. It’s where he would go to do his job. Once there, he carried the dead Bonten member’s body out of his trunk and unfolded a tarp, throwing the weight on it.

As he put on his rubber apron, shoes and gloves, he started working.

There was something soothing about making someone disappear. The entire process of erasing fingerprints, liming down teeth, burning the hair. It was fascinating to know that no matter what someone did, it was so easy to turn their existence into nothing. All with simple steps, simple tools that anyone could put their hands on. He had been desensitized to seeing naked dead bodies as he burnt down their clothes and made sure anything that could give away who they were was gone.

He knew when to make sure a body was found, when to plant it someplace where it would only be a matter of time before the cops found it. But this was one of theirs, as Sanzu had put it. And Mikey had made a promise that they would all end as nobodies. Because joining Bonten meant you would live as someone, you would be recognized, you would be feared—ultimately, while doing dirty work. And the cost of it all was that if you died, no one should track anything back to them.

You would start a nobody, live infamously, then disappear like smoke in the wind.

Those were pretty words, but Hanma knew if he was going to go down, he wanted it to be grandiose. No fireworks, no big show, but shit—what he wouldn’t give for some thrilling death.

‘Dying like this is embarrassing.’ He thought to himself. He wouldn’t want to go at the hands of mere insects. If he were to die from the betrayal of one of Bonten’s executives, he knew he’d have won. After all, Mikey had always doubted him—not that he cared much, but he knew. The water they swam in was one of wariness; while others merely dipped their feet in it, Hanma and Mikey had been underwater for years now. They would see one another in its murkiness, but never acknowledge one another.

No one truly understood the two of them. Sanzu stuck by Mikey’s side since he was involved in most of this from their childhoods, but did he truly understand the depth of the man? Of his every single judgment? Hanma did. On many occasions they had met over the years, some at different times, all at important, decisive moments. They sometimes spoke, but it was not until a few years into this mess that Mikey thought it smarter to have Hanma with him, rather than against him.

It had made Hanma laugh then, to see the blond man come up to him, telling him that he knew. The Reaper had never denied anything, nor had he affirmed any statement Mikey had made. He’d only smiled.

“We are the same, I can feel it.” Mikey had said at the time, even now Hanma thought back fondly on the memory. It must have taken him a lot to come up to him, to bend the knee as such, to admit this to the man that had a hand in killing his sister.

Hanma had grinned, dropping the body he was beating up onto the floor, “Took your time, Man-ji-ro.” He spelled out each syllable, all too aware it would fuel the man in front of him.

“It’s Mikey.” He spat. After a moment of looking him over, he continued, “You don’t really care about all this. You have nothing here or anywhere else.”

With feigned hurt, Hanma made a sad face, “Are you saying I’m a loser? A nobody?” He stood up from the man he was straddling for ease of punching and towered over Mikey, his eyes now filled with rage that did not show in his stance.

“Your strength can be put to good use. Your old ways are now fitting to what I’ve built.” 

With slight surprise, Hanma smirked, “Are you begging me to join Toman again?”

“Toman is gone, I won’t defile the good it has brought. I want you to join Bonten.”

With one step back, Hanma opened his arms wide and laughed loudly, “You think reinventing yourself will change the outcome? We both know how it ends, get used to it.” With one swift move, he was face to face with Mikey, now grinning like a maniac, “Their fate is sealed.” It had been so long since Hanma had seen any sort of expression on the blond man, and seeing how his face hardened and jaw clenched, he knew he had touched a nerve.

A split second was all it took for Mikey to try to kick him in the face. He blocked the hit and grabbed his leg, pushing him away, almost making the small man tumble back. “You’ve grown weak, Mikey.” He let go of his leg and kicked him in the stomach. The blond huffed in pain but remained standing, eyes set on the lanky man.

“Being soft won’t get anyone to follow you—you’ll get stepped on in a heartbeat.”

Mikey scoffed, “My statement remains, you have nothing. No one. I’m protecting them–”

Hanma went to punch him in the face, but his fist was held to a stop. He hated that he’d had someone to protect. He had lost his only friend. He would never go that deep in his psyche to think about all of this, but it was true—visiting a grave was not as thrilling as fighting by someone’s side.

Maybe part of him simply wanted people to share his thrills with.

Maybe that’s why he gritted through his teeth in a purely adrenaline-driven state, “Beat me and I’ll join you—no! Tell you what, I’ll even take a tie just cause I know you got soft.” He needed to be stimulated, and Mikey’s arguments were nothing close to valid. He did not care about his goals, he did not care about his people, he needed someone to fight for. Not someone he cared about, but someone that was worthy for the tool he had become, someone that was powerful enough to have him in their ranks.

“Sticking together isn’t enough for you?” Mikey asked, dodging hits while attempting to land some.

“Valhalla was never a friendship gang, I don’t care about any of that shit.” Hanma spat.

It made Mikey smile slightly.

“And we both know what you are, Mikey.” It had meant so much more than those simple words, but he continued, “They don’t see that you’re a manipulative piece of shit, but I do, I know you got more game than what you’re saying.”

And at the time, that darkness that adorned Mikey’s face had sent Hanma on the edge, like electricity coursing through his body. His eyes had widened in excitement, he had almost told him that this was what he wanted, this man now standing in front of him was a man he wanted to follow.

“There, that’s it, that’s your true–” He was interrupted by a punch landing on his face; Hanma had immediately stepped away and spat the blood that had drawn from the inside of his cheek smashing against his teeth. It didn’t make Mikey pause since he went running towards the man at full speed, “Has it affected you that much already?” Hanma asked with a laugh, once more dodging Mikey’s hits.

A laugh that came from his chest soon followed as Hanma went to tackle Mikey who held him still. Both had to let go if one of them wanted to land a hit; they took a step back and Hanma, in a crazed-haze, grinned, “How many did you do? I’m barely 3, maybe 4 in? But you…” He huffed in amazement, “You’re this fucked up… what is it, 10 now?”

Mikey didn’t budge, he stood still.

“More? Less? Oh, more.” Utter disbelief laced his chuckle, “And this is the one you wanna stay in, huh?” As if he had struck a nerve once more, Mikey went for him again, kicking him in the face. Hanma leaned away, almost falling, but he looked back at the blond with his smile never leaving his face. “You know what, sure. My conditions are the same, but now I’m intrigued. Can’t wait to discover what this one has that the others don’t!” He exclaimed in elation.

He then gave a mischievous smile at Mikey, “If I’m feeling like it, who knows,” He shrugged, “I might fuck around, show you that their happiness is actually relying on one thing.” He spelled out the last two words, his index raised as emphasis. He then pointed it at himself, “Me.”

With a knowing smile, he exhaled, “Anyway, I got all night.”

And they had indeed fought through the entire night. It did end in a tie, not that any of them remembered. It had been so long ago, their memories long since filled by many experiences.

All of this had led to Hanma being in this position, which he never truly hated. He never worked well in a team, taking care of bodies meant he could make sure the job was done and he didn’t have to rely on any of these fuckers. They relied on him. He could mess things up and put it all on them, not that he would. He couldn’t care less.

Wiping some sweat from his forehead, he finished putting all the body parts in acid—all he had to do was let time do its thing, he could go home and shower while this was being done. He made sure to text the guy responsible for throwing this shit away then tossed his equipment in a bag, taking it with him on the way out.

With his phone still out, he checked the time and exhaled, she better have replied.

When he saw no reply had come from her, he thought of the only person she could be with.

He called Sanzu again, the man picking up in annoyance, “What?”

“Is she at your place?”

“For fuck’s sake, did you lose her? How far could she–” He took a deep breath, “I’ll call and see.”

Hanma liked those kinds of conversations—short, efficient, practical. It took Sanzu two minutes to reply, and yet, hours in and his girl still hadn’t—once he knew she was at the man’s place, it’s as if she was taunting him, as if she knew he had been made aware of her location.

His phone dinged with a text from her, an attachment. Of course.

The moment he saw the picture of her bruised body—fresh bruises, at that—he was becoming enraged. He couldn’t care less about those he had brought onto her, it showed she was his; hell, he took pride in the marks from their fun time, but the ones on her forearms and throat weren’t his. He called her immediately. As he watched the screen with expectation, his ire dissipated and it was replaced with simple annoyance.

She did not pick up.

“Whatever, I got other shit to do.” If she wanted to play that game of chase, he would make her wait for it. She could be patient and let him get home, shower and sleep; in the end, she was at Sanzu’s and while the man could be a shithead at times, he knew he could trust him the most, for what it was worth. So Hanma drove home.

Upon reaching his place, the door was wide open and unlocked, the place a mess. He dropped his bag and lit a cigarette between his teeth, “She wasn’t lying, huh.” He walked around the place, kicking stuff over, trying to understand what had happened exactly. When he saw the cable of the lamp detached, he grinned, “That’s my girl.” He picked it up and could see teeth marks on it, “Damn man,” He addressed the bagged, dead body, “Needed a chew toy or something?” He tossed the cable on the bags and locked his door, “Don’t move, ‘kay? I’ll get the shit.”

Instead of being extra careful as he had earlier, he grabbed a bigger bag and shoved the man in, making sure nothing was leaking. He dropped it outside his apartment door and texted Mikey.

H.: Shibata at my place, bait? Threat? Come pick up.

M.: 👍

Too many words and the blond wouldn’t read, all Hanma did was tell him he had resources. They could do a lot with a dead Shibata member, whether they wanted Hanma to get rid of it tomorrow or use it as a threat, he truly didn’t care as long as it got out of his way. He didn’t want a decomposing body in his living room. The stench of drying blood was far enough.

Once the text was done, he went and showered.

He realized it was much faster without his girl around, without having to calm her, to talk to her over and over so she wouldn’t get reminded of whatever it was that got her so traumatized. Sometimes he thought it could have been their night out in the cemetery in their early days, but it couldn’t have been that—the rain was cold, the shower wasn’t. Plus, she had always been keen on breakdowns in showers, maybe it was just an old thing. Ultimately, it was probably not that deep.

Considering the last message he had received from her was a picture of herself in Sanzu’s bathroom, he assumed she’d be safe. If anything, he’ll get a call from her in the middle of the night telling him she wanted to get home and he’ll go get her, but if she wanted to stay there she was more than welcome. It meant he could get a restful night's sleep.

Although, it seemed it was harder to fall asleep without her weight beside him. He didn’t really know if that was the reason, he wasn’t aware he had gotten used to her presence—but he had. All he did was twist and turn in his sleep, not even needing to pull the blanket over himself since she wasn’t there to pull it to her side.

He had come back late, gone to bed even later, and with hours upon hours of tossing in bed, he finally sat up and looked at the alarm by his bed.

Seeing it was 7 in the morning, he threw the blanket over and got up, “Headache over headache, this fucking woman.” He walked to his wardrobe and grabbed a loose pair of sweatpants with an even looser shirt since he wasn’t planning on doing shit today except for teaching her some common sense. Or making her look for a new place, his mind was too foggy and exhausted to do it, not to mention it would keep her busy.

With a sigh, he made himself some instant noodles and slurped them so fast that if one blinked, they would have thought they’d disappeared. Fancy food was fun as a one time thing here and there, but there was nothing like a quick meal, he wasn’t gonna get into all that rich people shit. He only ever got this place so the other executives stopped complaining about the reputation it would give them, if people knew one of Bonten’s most important people lived in a ‘dump’, as they called it. He never even made this place his place, no trinkets, no pictures, nothing—all he had were his clothes, some papers in some drawers and that was it. He was ready to leave at any time.

This was all temporary, he knew to remember. Everything could change, whether he wanted to or not.

So why would he settle? He was all too aware of the target on his head every day of his life amidst those people. Not being liked was one thing, knowing one wrong move could be a valid argument to get him considered a traitor was another. And now he couldn’t risk that. He was never going to voice those thoughts that sometimes plagued his mind, but risking his life for stupid mistakes now meant risking hers and he had put too much work into shaping her into who she was to make it all go down the drain.

Once he was done eating, he rinsed his bowl and left it in the sink before taking a proper look at the room he had come home to late in the night hours. Broken table, tipped over couch, hole in the wall—this one was more annoying just cause he was renting this place. There was no way he would buy anything, that was maybe Koko’s shit, not his.

Running his thumb over the hole, he felt there was still a bullet lodged in it and grabbed a knife to pluck it out, “Now that’s interesting…” He hummed to himself before bringing it under the light of the counter in the kitchen, “Might tell us more of who the fuck you are…” He trailed off, grabbing a universal clamp from the drawer as he opened the bullet to see its insides. While he disliked guns and was prone to not using them if he could, he still went out of his way to learn about them—not only to learn their efficiency, that is if Mikey ever forced him to use one, but above all because if the shooter was smart enough, or experienced enough, they would make their own bullets. For the weight, the speed, everything.

And this very bullet on his counter was homemade.

It had whatever that asshole’s signature was; with a bit of brute force, he managed to open the shell and spilled out all the powder from it. He was pleasantly surprised to see something else amidst the dark dust that painted his counter, “Now what do we have here?” Bringing it closer to his eye, he smirked. This was a first.

It was the first time he had had someone attempting to bug his apartment, and in the worst possible manner too. The bug in his hand was small enough to fit in a sniper cartridge, which admittedly was not an amazing feat, but a creative one for sure.

“Kinda dumb if you ask me, but we appreciate the attempt, bye.” Then he crushed the bug with the pliers he used to open the cartridge and tossed it in a bowl, adding some oil and throwing in a match only to watch the small fire that had set burn the plastic and metal away. If his measures were too extreme, Hanma didn’t care. All he cared about was that it was thorough, he wouldn’t want to let them get the upper hand just because he was not meticulous enough.

In other words, better safe than sorry.

He had watched the plastic melt slowly, his brain giving him nothing but the pure elation of getting them at their own game. Hanma had woken up—if he had even slept that night—in a bad mood, but this had him reeling, excited. The games this foolish gang was playing were surely going to entertain him. 

When the fire had died out, he poured some water in the bowl and tossed it back in the sink.

He’d call whatever losers were available for cleaning duty and get his place fixed the best he could, until then he had to get his girl back from the crackhead’s den. Throwing on his jacket, he grabbed his keys and pack of cigarettes and left his place—locking it seemed futile now, so he left it as it was and got to his car without much worry.

Hanma never truly ventured into deep thinking, not more than needed because it was a rabbit hole that could swallow you hole—something his girl had yet to understand. But he did notice his thoughts diverted back to her more often than necessary. Even on solo errands, he would sometimes just text her, see what she was up to, and check that none of the Haitanis had done anything.

While he knew he could take on both the brothers without breaking a sweat would it not be considered treason, he never really trusted Ran. Whatever that bastard set his eyes on could never last. Some would argue that if other people looked at your partner it meant they were attractive, but Ran’s eyes were void of all that emotional shit. He saw good in people. Everyone loved to play abstraction, to ignore that the brothel owner started his ascension amidst the ranks through one big business.

Human trafficking.

Sure, Hanma was never going to help any of those people, and he could also ignore all the shady shit—hell, he killed people for a living. What kind of hypocritical man would he be to judge whatever any of them were doing? And above all, he never gave much thought about it all as it was, but seeing Ran’s eyes settle on her had him boiling up with rage, just because he knew the man saw the possibility of sellable goods. That was a certainty when almost two years ago the bastard had visited her at her place and tried to have his way with her. Hanma was gripping his steering wheel tightly, huffing a short laugh to himself, “He could have never taken care of you, not the way I am…”

Speaking to himself was embarrassing, he knew that, but who else would understand him? He was not crying about it, he was not complaining either, it was not that important. All he knew was that only one person ever scraped the surface of understanding him before her, only one person had managed to graze the way his brain functioned—and now, even if his sole friend was gone, he had her. 

Losing her was not an option. He knew it was a weak spot, but he also knew he had grown somewhat attached to her presence, and there was nothing he could do about it. What Mikey had said years ago now played too big a part in this entire situation, things had changed compared to that night the smaller man had come begging for him to join Bonten. Hanma didn’t like the new side she had brought on that much, it had gotten too out of control for his liking. 

He had to stir her back to her lane or shit would blow up.

And he was not the only one aware of that—when he knocked on Sanzu’s apartment door, he heard something falling, then heavy footsteps before the door was unlocked and opened wide. Hanma threw the pink-haired man a mocking smile as he rose an eyebrow, “You look like shit, had a fight with your girl–”

“I’m holding back from fighting yours, so get your ass inside and take her out of here.” Sanzu spat, pissed off. Tiredness was written all over his face, and Hanma understood why when he saw the single pillow and blanket over the couch; the man clearly had slept there through the night. Sanzu was not known to be stoic, he would wear his emotions on his sleeve without much fear, but the one most people had seen him wear was one of devotion. He was somewhat keen on extremes, why be loyal to Mikey if he could devote his life to him? Why love Shiho if he could be one with her? Their lives were now entangled in more ways than one, somehow like Hanma’s and hers were.

Hanma looked at the scarred man, “She was here for just one night, it can’t be that bad.” He laughed.

“I was this close to gagging her in her fucking sleep.” He complained, closing the door behind Hanma. While the host had greeted him with a sort of rush, he still guided him to the kitchen—the one room that was at the opposite side of the bedroom. Sanzu grabbed himself a cup full of coffee as he took a gulp, “I would’ve heard from Shiho if your girl’s had nightmares before, which means they just started, right? I’m not her doctor and frankly I couldn’t care less—but I know the tells.” He was solemn, and while it was not rare to see him serious, he was now meeting Hanma’s gaze for some untold understanding.

The taller man poured himself a cup; he never really liked the taste, but he needed something to wake him up. The lack of errands today meant a lack of adrenaline coursing through his veins. “It’s under control.” He thought, all too aware to not let slip anything Sanzu could use.

He only blinked as the ceramic cup that once was in the pink-haired man’s hand was set on the counter with a loud clatter, that now free hand grabbing Hanma by the collar, “Bullshit! Fucking bullshit, I don’t have to explain the domino effect of your actions, do I?!”

Oh, this was personal. The tweaks he was planning on doing meant changing what Sanzu had worked on with his master. Mad Dog was more of a scared puppy than anything right now.

Hanma kept his cool and grinned mockingly at the man desperately trying to shake some sense into him, “I told him I might fuck around at some point,” He paused and gripped the back of the man’s hair, “Now is the point.” He gritted through his teeth.

When Sanzu let go, Hanma did too.

“You’re fucking insane, we know what this can do to someone,” He waved his hands in front of him, “All that shit!” He was distraught, his speech much faster than usual, less composed than how it would be, were he by Mikey’s side. Taking a few more sips of his coffee, he looked back at Hanma, “It’s starting for her. And there’s nothing you’ll be able to do about it if you keep going out of your way to–”

Hanma scoffed, “She’s been having nightmares since killing her stupid friend, she’s fine.”

“I’m not a fucking idiot, I know she’s yours the way I’m Mikey’s. I know the effects more than you fucking would, stop your bullshit right now or–”

“Or what? Or your plans with Mikey will go off the rails? I really couldn’t care less. You know it’s not gonna change much. If anything, it could be good for you.” Hanma smirked before theatrically hitting the heel of his hand to the side of his head, “Ah, shit! Nah, my bad, it’ll only really change the way it happened, I’ll make sure not to mess up your plans too much! That’s safe, don’t worry.” A somber look dawned on the host; he clenched his teeth and gripped the other man’s collar once more to face him from up close, “Get her and get out.”

Hanma raised both his hands in comical defense, “Don’t mind if I do, this place reeks like a druggie den.” He teased, making Sanzu call out in offense that still, somehow, he kept his place cleaner than any of theirs, adding that Hanma should stop being a dick. As the taller man opened the door to the bedroom and was faced with the two women sleeping comfortably on the bed, he glanced at his girl, then Sanzu’s before grabbing the latter’s ankle and dragging her out.

She woke up with a yelp as she caught herself with her arms, avoiding her head from hitting the bed frame, “Fuck, what the fuck—what are you doing?!”

“Get out.”

Her eyes widened as she scrambled to her feet and rushed out of the room. 

Watching her leave, Hanma felt no ounce of regret upon treating her as he did. He had never understood why Sanzu liked her. She was all too lively and addiction-prone clearly was not something he looked for in his girl. They had found themselves, two sad-looking people, with just as sad prospects in life. He sometimes wondered if she knew she could never come close to the importance Mikey had to Sanzu, it was not his place to tell her, and if she knew then it only made her even more ridiculous.

Looking back at his girl, Hanma sat on the side of the bed and almost smiled at how peaceful she looked. Not from liking to see her as such, but from knowing how fast this expression would fall from her face when she would open her eyes.

He caressed the side of her cheek with the back of his hand, “Wakey wakey.” He said mockingly. She stirred in her sleep but did not react much from how gentle his tone was. Instead of repeating himself, he gripped her jaw tight and turned her head to him, “I said wake the fuck up.” Her eyes widened in shock.

Just like he wanted them.

She tried to sit up, her arms already at her sides but he tutted her and straddled her lap, “Don’t panic like that, you wanted this, right?” He cooed, his thumb brushing gently over her skin. He couldn’t help but smile to himself at the sight before leaning in and ghosting his lips over her, “Why are you sobbing already? They’ll hear you, is that what you want?”

As if those were magic words, he felt her kiss him in desperation, “I can be quiet.” Her hands stumbled automatically trying to unbutton his shirt only to feel fabric; confused, she looked down and noticed he was wearing a simple shirt, “Take off your jacket.” She breathed out, making Hanma laugh as he pushed her deeper into the bed, “Think for a second and repeat those words.” Watching her think of what she did wrong, he saw her gaze settle on something behind him before back to him, “I’m sorry, please take it off, I need–”

“You need to keep your mouth shut, I’ll do the talking.”

She nodded, he slowly unbuttoned her pajamas and exposed her chest and stomach before pressing his thumb into the fresh bruises, “Did you think it was smart to show these to me?” It only made her laugh breathlessly as she gripped his hand tight and pressed it further into her skin, “It got me excited to no fucking end.” She gritted through her teeth, pained, aroused—two familiar feelings that should only rarely mix, and yet had ended up being the only match for her to get off. 

Looking down at her, Hanma couldn’t help but smile at the enthusiasm she was giving him. He wanted to mark her as his even if no one would see it. They were not allowed to see all of it, but he would know that the way he had branded her was enough to deter anyone who would even catch a glimpse of her. 

Only he could want her, she was his perfect fit.

Chuckling without a sound, he kissed her stomach and looked up at her, “D’ya want me to fuck you right here?” He kissed up her chest before stopping to her lips, “Right now?” 

She nodded, kissing him all too aggressively, her teeth clashing against his before digging into his lips, “Yeah.” Her eyes were distant, looking to the side, immediately closing as she resumed kissing him. He would have given her whatever she wanted had she not needed to be disciplined for acting out for no reason. Hanma needed to exercise some restraint as he pulled her head back by gripping her scalp tight, “I’m more of a taker than a giver, it must suck, huh?” Just like that, he threw her back on the bed, a moan escaping her lips at the burning pain on her scalp. Hanma stood up and towered over her laying form, enjoying all too much the sight of his girl so vulnerable, “Do you think you’re smart, doll?”

Her heart stopped, she looked at him with wide eyes, prey eyes.

His toothy grin showed, “So we both agree you were fucking stupid for running outta the house, yeah?”

She nodded silently.

“Hey, hey,” He cooed softly, his hand back to her chin as he lifted it forcefully, “Fucking words.”

“Yes. I needed you, you weren’t there.”

He smiled, “So you thought…?”

Her gaze avoided his for a second as her face heated up, soon she whispered back, “I thought it’d make you come–”

“Come crawling back to you?” He inquired, his head tilted to the side mockingly, “Oh doll, this,” He pointed at the both of them, “This isn’t what this is. You really thought you would have me begging?” He continued, pausing for dramatic effect as his hand splayed on her cheek, cradling her face. It was always so good to him to see her lean into his touch. He knew he still had her when she would, he knew she was still desperately in need of him for reassurance. Gently, her hand placed on his, he smiled sweetly.

As she looked up at him with those doe eyes she thought would have him swooning, he knew she was going to do something she would regret. Her head leaned into his chest as her hands left his and hooked onto the waistband of his pants, “I can make you feel good, I’m sorry for stressing you out.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and his hand flew to her throat before slamming her to the bed, “Now’s not the time, now’s not fun.” He gritted through his teeth, his thumb digging under her chin painfully, “I need you to understand how fucking reckless that was.”

She grinned, “Were you worried?”

His mouth opened only slightly, hidden behind his scoff, “Less words it is—and not one fucking sound.” As he said so, he pushed her panties aside and slid in a few fingers, “There, there now I got you focused, huh?” He breathed out, barely above a whisper.

Seeing her eyes manically fly to the door had him hard but he wasn’t going to fuck her here, still could he enjoy her panic. What if they got caught? Then he could fuck her in front of them—he needed to focus. “Bad guy in the house.” He started, his fingers thrusting in and out of her just how she liked it, just enough to have her panting with her mouth wide open behind her hand, “Bad guy dead. Fight noisy!” One hard thrust, “People curious!” He made a fake sad face, more pouting mockingly than anything, “People call pigs, pigs come to the house to see dead body! Not good, not good.”

He then pauses and looks at her as if he had an enlightenment, “If you were there, you would not let pigs in! Dead body not caught.” He then frowns again, his fingers still inside her as he watches her try to make him fuck her, her hand gripping his wrist to have him thrust again, “You even fucking–” he started thrusting back inside her with much more force, “You even fucking walked outta there in the open knowing there was a fucking sniper, how braindead can you be? Huh?” He felt her tightening around him and pulled out immediately, placing her panties back in position as he dried his fingers on her open shirt, “Ya needa learn to think, cause I won’t always be there.”

She suddenly sat up, buttoning her shirt, “What do you mean? Are you—are you leaving me?”

He gave her a look that said she was insane, but inside he was in awe at how fast she was to come to that conclusion, “You’re a big girl, Mikey will send you on shit alone’s what I mean.”

It dawned on her. A soft ‘oh’ escaped her lips in realization, she did not know what to say. Instead of waiting for her reply, he stood up—she immediately took his hands in hers. She seemed completely different, as if their session was enough to clear her mind. A short laugh escaped her lips as she placed his hands on her hips, “I messed up, I’m sorry. You’re right.” looking down, she huffed another laugh, “I was dazed, I really… I don’t know what I thought. Shit, it’s embarrassing,” When she finally looked back at him, he felt the air change but did not pay any mind. Instead, he stared intently, “The apartment isn’t safe anymore, is it?” These were the first coherent words that were directed at him.

Hanma nodded, “Yeah, we gotta move out. It’ll be fast, we don’t have much to take from there anyway.”

While they were making their way to the door, it suddenly burst open with Sanzu frowning as he glared at the two of them, “Both of you, out.” Despite his visible ire, he’d still let them finish their discussion before kicking them out. Ever the polite son of a bitch. He let the woman walk out first and intercepted Hanma by the collar, “And don’t you fucking disrespect my girl under my own damn roof, is that clear?” He gritted through his teeth. It was one thing to give The Reaper private time to talk with his woman, but boundaries and respect needed to be set—in general, as a concept Hanma did not seem to abide by much, but also as something that should have been given to him for the sake of how long they had known each other. The constant talking-down of Shiho was something the pink-haired man never thought he would grow to despise almost as much as he did when someone disrespected Mikey.

Looking up at the maniac he was gripping tight, Sanzu felt anger boil in the pit of his stomach and immediately let go of Hanma, pushing him as he did so before pointing at the door. The taller man made sure to nudge the scarred one on the way, “Sure thing, enjoy your days together–” He covered his mouth mockingly, “Day. My bad!”

This one was earned. The punch Hanma received from Sanzu was deserved. It was fast, it was sudden and unexpected to both women in the room, but Hanma only brought his fingers to his cut lip with a half-grin, “Struck a nerve?” He asked teasingly.

Instead of replying, Sanzu reached for his katana—he knew he was not planning on using it, but Hanma raised both of his hands in theatrical defense, “Bit dramatic, aren’t we? We’re leaving, don’t worry.”

“Get your act together soon, we both know it won’t end well if you keep that shit up.”

Those words left the two women confused, the one by the door made a mental note to ask Hanma about it once they were out, but she was quick to forget when he mentioned moving out again. Instead, they got to the car and as she fastened her seatbelt, she hummed, “To be honest, I think it’ll be good to leave your place, not only is it super elevated–”

“Yeah, to avoid break-ins, but clearly that didn’t work.”

She gave him a playful glare, “But also, your house is so cold it kinda feels spooky at times, you know?”

Hanma laughed, “Oh yeah, it’s haunted.” He said jokingly, unaware of how close he was to the truth, “Maybe it’s gotta do with the dead doorman, or the girl you killed in the hall. They’re visiting us or something.” He added, laughing even more—the woman next to him joined a bit more shyly, her eyes stuck on the rear-view mirror before focusing on her phone.

“You can look shit up for the new place, I couldn’t care less where we’re moving.” He said more calmly now as his eyes remained on the road. Sure, his place was a mess, but it was just material possessions. Bonten could cover whatever expenses he could have, but he’d rather let Koko deal with whatever finance shit needed to be dealt with. “Well, I don’t care either, as long as I’m with you.”

“Babe, just look up whatever, okay? I’ll try have Koko rush shit today or tomorrow so we can move out fast.” He threw her a glance before placing his hand on her thigh. He fought with himself for a moment, should he say those words or not? They were the truth if they were to come out, but he didn’t like saying them—at the same time, she went through shit and she did pull through quite well.

His grip tightened, “You didn’t do as bad as I thought you would last night. We’ll work on your…” He raised a brow, “Emotional instability, I guess? Did he start the fight?”

She shook her head, “No, he—he poked at me, he mocked me and disrespected me so I… ran to him and–”

Hanma patted her thigh, holding back a growing smile, “Yeah, okay, you went off like a ticking bomb, that’s fine. Don’t think Mikey will like it much–” He felt her tense. She made sure to hide how she feared that statement of his, because if Mikey knew she wasn’t the best she could be, he could throw her out. In the split second this happened, Hanma continued, “But he won’t know if you fix that attitude, right?”

She grabbed his hand and turned to face him while he drove, “Maybe if he hadn’t been a fucking dick, I wouldn’t have killed him.”

“Don’t think I’ve killed the Haitanis yet, did I?” Hanma stated. 

She went silent and sat back down properly, now lost in thought, “You’re right. I’ll try to be more like you—though I think we could still take care of the Haitanis.” She commented, replying to a text she had received from Shiho in the meantime. Her words had made Hanma huff a laugh, “We? Don’t think you could take them on, babe.”

It was her turn to raise a brow as she looked at him with a smirk, “I think I almost did once, don’t you remember?”

“We’re better off forgetting, ya were insane then.” He shook his head shortly, laughing under his breath, “My girl drugging the Ran Haitani, that was something I never thought would happen ‘til it did.”

When she placed her hands on his thighs, about to ask him if it had turned him on, the car stopped as they parked in front of their building. Hanma grabbed her chin and made her look up, tutting her, “Were you ‘bout to suck my dick while I was driving?”

“If you had let me, yeah.”

It would’ve been a lie if he’d said that he hadn’t considered letting her do it right then or if he’d said he hadn’t considered starting the car again just for the thrill of her mouth around his cock while he was speeding on a highway. Instead, he roughly pulled her lower lip down with his thumb, “Should have been faster, now we’re both missing out.” He told her, the closeness had her body heating up in seconds. It always amazed her how cars brought such intimacy with ease and she enjoyed it. “We got shit to do today, come on.” Hanma let go of her without throwing her a second glance, unaware of the emotions that were fighting inside her head. Should she feel hurt he hadn’t let her? Or should she feel proud that there was some sprinkle of hurt in his eyes from not having time for fun like this?

Her thoughts did not matter, once they got to the apartment, she changed to something more adequate for the day to come.

“Koko doesn’t do real estate, but he does handle the money shit. Mocchi’s the one we gotta go to for a new place.” Hanma stated once he leaned by the door of the bedroom after checking around the place for anyone that could have sneaked in, “I already contacted both, so we gotta get to the big guy’s company in a bit, it gives us time to…” He shrugged, bringing a cigarette to his lips, “Work on whatever got you worked up enough that you had to kill the guy, right?”

Looking right into the wardrobe, she laughed, “You should also get changed, you’re too casual for that–”

“Are you ignoring me right now?”

“It’s kind of Bonten-related, you wouldn’t want them to think you’re underdressed and disrespectful.” She was speaking faster and faster, Hanma grabbed her hands from the clothes she was looking through and let go immediately when he saw her mouth turn into a thin line as her words came to a halt.

“What the hell was that?” He asked, getting the cigarette away from his mouth as he puffed out the smoke and looked down at her with his jaw clenched, so easily pissed off from something so simple.

She sighed, “Am I allowed to–” she paused, the words she wanted to let out would raise suspicions, it would have him worried, she couldn’t have that. Instead, she met his eyes and smiled, “I’m just nervous, it feels like it’s my fault we need to get a new place—they already don’t like me that much, you know? Not that I care anymore, but I know it’s not gonna do any good if they know–”

Smirking, Hanma brought the cigarette back to his lips, took a drag and blew the smoke in her face, “Do I look like a fucking snitch, doll?” She needed reassurance, he could see it, and if he could not tell her it would be alright—not only because it could never be a sure thing, but also because shit could also go bad at any point—he could still smooth-talk. Ghosting his lips over hers, he felt her hold her breath as it hitched in her throat, “It ain’t a lie to tell ‘em those Shibata assholes broke in and fucked shit up,” He whispered before scoffing a laugh, head tilted, teasing her for a kiss, “Yeah, you broke a lamp and shit, but the place ain’t safe no matter what. Broken furniture or not, they know where we are.” His hand that held the cigarette between two fingers tilted her head slightly back.

He then kissed her tenderly. Her heart swooned but her mind scratched like a disk. His eyes measured as his hands manipulated.

Something felt off, they both knew it.

He was determined to fix the mess he had created, no matter the cost.

She was determined to fit in his world, no matter what.

Without even speaking it, they both agreed they could not worry the other, so they smiled with that same passion they used to have. She was the first one to speak, “If you wanna know, he disrespected me for the woman I was and I couldn’t tolerate that.” She laughed and pushed Hanma playfully, “I had to show him I was not helpless and stupid.”

Turning around to find some clothes, she said under her breath, “You made me who I am today,” She couldn’t be more right, Hanma thought with a short smile to himself, “I couldn’t let him insult your work, could I?” She continued. It had made him hum in satisfaction as he crushed the cigarette in the ashtray by the bed and joined her again to grab a specific item he liked and hand it to her, “Should I dress up my pretty doll today then?”

Smirking, she closed the wardrobe and grabbed what he had given her, pressing it to her chest as she met his gaze playfully, “Aren’t we domestic like this?” Her hand slid over his chest slowly, he kept his mouth shut watching her as her hand wrapped around his throat and her thumb caressed his jawline, “New place calls for celebration right?” She continued, kissing down his jaw before finally whispering, “So pick the outfit you wanna fuck me in once we get there, I’ll pick yours.”

“Doll, if I pick your outfit I can’t promise I won’t fuck you right now.”

She hooked her finger to the collar of his t-shirt and pulled down, laughing slightly, “Restraints are hot–” She turned around, “I mean, restraint is hot. We’ll see how long you last, and once we get our new place…” She trailed off, picking her favorite suit of Hanma’s, handing it to him, “We’ll have to baptize every fucking room, right?”

Smiling with mischievousness, Hanma hung the suit on the wardrobe door and grabbed some clothes of hers too, the bodysuit he had handed her moments ago in hand, “I’ll know you have that underneath, they don’t need to, though.”

Pouting mockingly, she put on the lingerie slowly, “But it’s so cute, you sure you don’t want them to see it?” 

Handing her the shirt, she put it on and buttoned it just enough to let the lace peek. She grabbed the pants and tucked the shirt in, then slid her vest on, “Like a mini you, except one of us is much more fuckable right now.” She teased, nodding at the suit hanging on the door.

Hanma did not move and looked down at her with a certain hunger in his eyes while tossing his shirt and pants aside. His eyes never left hers while he mimicked her actions, getting dressed. She enjoyed the sight more than she would admit; even if she had barely gotten a taste of domesticity all these years, considering the situation they were in, she liked the little she could get of it.

Once he was dressed, he grabbed her collar with a certain delicacy, then his deft fingers buttoned one more button, “I said, they don’t see it.”

“But then how am I supposed to work you up?” She pleaded teasingly as she undid the button, “Much more fun like that.”

Shaking his head, Hanma turned around and huffed a dry laugh, “Your funeral, let’s go.” He grabbed his shoes on the way, letting her hurry behind him with hers. It felt like the good old days to act like this, but the woman could not ignore the fact that she was never alone. No matter how hard she tried, she would come back.

Maybe there could be a way to get rid of her for good.

“By the way, don’t mention Mocchi’s divorce, it’s hard on the guy.”

Humming softly, she hurried and walked past him, “I genuinely couldn’t care less, come on, I’m excited now!”

Maybe he didn’t mess up that much, Hanma thought to himself as he watched her happily walk in front of him.

[Part 4]

[banamine-bananime]

BGCUNTS Blow Up the Whole Goddamn World

Summary:

Blood Gulch Center for United Nations Transmission Schooling is a very normal school, by the standards of outer colonies in 2577. Boring, even - that's the thing about life on a ringworld, barren and detached even 24 years of human colonization after the eradication of Flood remnants and, consequently, all life from these once lovingly-cultivated oases of biodiversity from across the galaxy. Its students jump at a chance for some teenage rebellion at a party away from the lovingly omnipresent supervision of F.I.L.S.S., and to meet the legendarily reclusive students from the colony's enigmatic military school. They get a bit more excitement than they bargained for.

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Depictions of Death Additional Tags: AU - All-girl boarding school in space. Or on a ringworld., Halo Lore, Installations (Halo), The Flood (Halo), Body Horror, Eco-horror, Ecofiction, cosmic horror, Science Fiction, Mystery, Artificial Intelligence, Internalized Homophobia, Genderbend, 😳 What if we killed society and grew something beautiful and terrifying from its mangled corpse 😳, Fair bit of me putting Tucker in a jar and shaking it mercilessly. With love, just gals being gay, And stupid hijinks. Oh god the stupid hijinks.

Chapter 7: BGCUNTS After-School Special

There are a few soft thuds, yelps, and a short, high scream from the stairwell past the door in front of them. Grif jumps and grabs Simmons's arm. "What the fuck was that - nope, we're done, we're going back to bed, fuck this," Grif rambles, voice cracking. "I-it's probably nothing!" Simmons replies, straining not to let her voice crack just as badly. "Let me just - I'll just check in with the others, they might know!" She fumbles out a quick message to the group.

Status report, what the hell was that?

Tucker did it

Caboose shut up i didnt. And neither did you??? Why are you even trying to deflect Seconding simmonses 'what the hell was that' but minus the cringe tryhard part. Donut the hell u doing back there? Keep it the fuck down this is hard enough without you tryna wake up the whole school

soooooooorrrrrryyyyyyy that scream was me!!! 😅 freddie took a little tumble on the stairs but don't worry gang, she's A-OK ❣️❣️

Um. Yeah I guess I'm OK. But, uh, why is it so dark This seems like a real safety violation!

Grif snorts at DuFresne's messages. Simmons frowns and taps back a reply.

I mean you did literally just almost break your neck. So I'd say, yeah, that sounds like a problem. More importantly, why the fuck are the lights and F.I.L.S.S. out in the first place? What's going on?

OK thanks for confirming almost breaking my neck is the less important thing here 🫠👍

[sankta-starkova]

LETTERMAN

018; duke rejections

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

summary: the one where ej and andy realise that there may be some romantic feelings between them that hadn't been there before, or had they? the new year test this revelation

wordcount: 1.5k

ANDY SEARCHED THE SCHOOL, LOOKING everywhere for EJ Caswell, calling his name and texting him non-stop.

A part of her was worried after his mood this morning and she didn't know what was going on.

She could feel her heart speeding up in worry. She didn't know if he was frozen in the snow storm or dead out there somewhere. Or...

She knew he wasn't stupid enough to get himself frozen to death but she was still worried about him and where he was.

Andy turned a corner, seeing him standing against the wall in am empty classroom. He looked confused as he started vacantly into the distance.

"Caswell?" She asked, looking up at him as she walked towards him, "God damn it, I've been calling for ages,"

He looked down at her. There was a sickening feeling in his stomach as he looked down at the girl he was totally enamoured with.

She wore her normal outfit, jeans and a graphic tee. But she was also wearing that Duke cap on her head, the one he had given her only a little while ago.

"Sorry," he mumbled, averting his gaze from her to the floor.

Andy knew that there was something wrong with him. He would never normally vanish without her knowing and he would not normally be so silent.

Especially now, she had never seen him looking so miserable before - not even when Nini broke up with him.

"Whats wrong?" She asked and he shook his head, not looking into her eyes but he saw her smile fade. "EJ?"

He sighed, looking at her before putting a fake smile on, "I-I'm fine Andy," he confirmed.

She scoffed. She did not believe him for a second and she knew that there was something going on that he wasn't telling her.

She shook her head, "You're not fine, what's up?" Andy asked again, folding her arms across her chest.

"Nothing, I promise," EJ said and she scoffed, looking down at the floor. He obviously wasn't going to tell her so she gave up on it, smiling at him.

"Okay, we've been worried about you, you didn't show up when the lights went out. I came to find you," she explained.

He didn't say anything, just staring at the floor with a slightly upset and almost guilty expression. She didn't want to push him so she took a deep breath, readying herself to go.

"I'll meet you there," Andy said as she gave up, turning around and preparing to walk out of the room.

"Wait!" He exclaimed and she turned around, her face softening as she saw his eyes well up with tears. "I didn't get into Duke,"

Her heart sank. He had been wanting to go there ever since before he was born and she couldn't believe that he hadnt gotten in.

Now it made sense why he was so upset and why it was about home - his whole family had gone to Duke and now now he wasn't.

"Oh EJ," she spoke softly, rushing towards him. Andy pulled the Duke hat off, throwing it across the room before engulfing him in a hug.

He didn't speak, just holding onto her tightly like he could never let her go. One hand gently ran through her hair in an almost calming effect and she leaned into his embrace.

There was a comfortable silence in his room as he allowed himself to just hold her, to relax.

"You okay," she asked, leaning her head on his chest but looking up at him. He nodded, a smile on his face.

"Better, lets go back," he said, kissing her on the top of her head. They froze for a second before she grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the door.

"You're cold," he said and she shook her head.

She couldn't believe that he was upset about his future not being like what it should be and he seemed more worried about her being cold.

"I'm fine," Andy said. She was kind of cold but it didn't matter right now.

"I know you're lying," he said and she furrowed her brow, confused, "You do that thing where you bite the inside of your cheek when you lie,"

She chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief. Nobody had ever paid that much attention to her before that they remembered the little things.

Andy could feel the butterflies in her stomach at the way that he always paid attention to her.

"Here,' he said, shrugging his letterman jacket off and draping it over her shoulders, smiling, "I always said it looked better on you,"

She blushed, scoffing before grabbing his arm with one hand, and his jacket with the other. They rushed out, her smiling as he followed.

They walked out of the room, standing around as she allowed EJ to think about everything.

She knew how his entire future had been disrupted and almost ruined and she understood why he was so upset.

"Caswell, Kennedy, you're not cavorting with the other show people," Mazzara said as he approached the two.

He looked at them, seeing how EJ had his arm around her shoulders protectively but still had a vacant and sad look on his eyes.

Mr Mazzara wanted to smile at the couple, knowing they weren't together but clearly cared for each other so much.

But he could also see that there was something wrong with the older boy.

"Not really in a cavorting mood," he said glumly.

"Something you want to talk about, or have you two already talked?" Mazzara asked.

He was one of Andys favourite teachers since she went to robotics club with him. And he knew all about the duo.

They walked around, Mazzara following them, "Do you know where the finest place in the world to study robotics is?" He asked.

"Stark industries?" EJ asked with a sarcastic tone, Andy elbowing him slightly which just made him smile.

"Caltech, I applied four and a half times but never made the cut," he explained, "Point is, its all I ever wanted and all my dad ever wanted,"

"I guess you heard about Duke," EJ said, looking down at the floor.

All of that disappointment boiled back into his head and he couldn't believe that someone else knew.

"I might have heard something from the counselors office." Mazzara sighed, "You are a top student from a successful family, you check all the boxes,"

"Is that not enough?" EJ questioned.

"Lots of people check all the boxes, I read your essay and I don't think Duke really knows what your story is," Mazzara said to him.

"Apparently, neither do I," EJ said and Andy sighed, biting her lip.

She didn't believe that he was a failure or that he didn't know his own story. No matter what, she knew that he was someone to be proud of.

"Well son, you are welcome to come hang out in the AV club whenever you want, and bring Andy, she's great with that stuff," Mazzara suggested before walking off, EJ thanking him.

They stood there in silence for a little bit after Mr Mazzara left, neither of them quite knew what to say.

"Look at me Caswell," Andy said and he turned to look at her as she pulled away from him.

He huffed in frustration, looking down at Andy as she grabbed his hands. He didnt want to acknowledge what was wrong, not even a little bit

"You are my best friend and someone I love the most in the world. You are amazing okay, and if you don't believe that then your stupid," she said and he just pulled her into a hug.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he looked at her. He was completely falling for the girl in front of him.

She was perfect. She made him fel better when he was sad, she made him smile no matter what and he didn't know what he'd do without her.

She chuckled, "Thanks Andy," he whispered, kiss her on the top of the head as he hugged her.

"We gotta get back to the group," she said and they walked in, flashlights being shone at them.

Seb jumped up, "Everyone, the roads are clear," he explained and the lights turned on.

"You want to drive around, we could sit on the hill and blast beauty and the beast songs?" EJ asked.

She nodded her head, "Anything you want EJ," she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the room with a laugh.

That was the moment he knew he was totally in love with her. That he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this girl through every high and low. He loved Andy Kennedy.

taglist:

@maggiecc @hesfasttandshesweird

[greenelectricsky]

WARNING! A LITTLE BIT OF GORE! NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, BUT STILL HERE!

Rum Tum Tugger knew, they were in trouble. Cysiek and TuśTuś were hissing under a box like two tiny, frightened fuzzy balls of anger. He was wounded, after one dog came too close to the kittens, now that stupid canine had one eye out of its socket and could crawl away using only two legs. Munkustrap was wounded too, breathing heavy, blood slowly oozed from his nose and bite on hind leg, but still fighting, snarling and keeping his opponents in check.

Munkustrap: Take kits away. Now!

Rum Tum Tugger: No! I don't leave you! No way!

Munkustrap: So don't! Take them to a safe place and come back! I need your help!

Rum Tum Tugger: I...

Munkustrap: GO!!!!!!

Rum Tum Tugger took one of their kittens in teeth, second one in his arm, and started to climb on a tree, under what they were fighting, and put them on some branch.

Rum Tum Tugger: Stay here for a moment, little ones. Dad needs to... Oh, I know!

And that idiot jumped down, on one of two last dogs, almost breaking its back and his own paws. But that gave Munku an opening he needed to end with a second dog. After that dogs completely lost their spirit and ran away.

Munkustrap, sitting next to his husband: Tugger? Are you alive? Love?

Rum Tum Tugger, on his back, trying to not move: Yeah, I'm almost alive. But we work perfectly together, yes?

Munkustrap: I love you. And I hope you'll be still alive in a few hours, because I have to kill you for that...

Rum Tum Tugger: Yeah, I love you too...

<prev next>

[imyourbratzdoll]

What about a Imagine where the Reader got a crush on Capitan America But Not Chris?

He Flirts with the Reader But she is Not feeling it Because she has the feeling that he turns on every second person, which is not the case. Chris has heard a lot of good things from her and that she would suit him well and he doesn't want to lose this chance

hi! sorry it took so long. hopefully, this is what you've asked for, to be honest. I don't know if I did that great of a job.

summary - chris messes up while trying to be flirty, and the reader saves him.

warning - a bit of fluff, a bit of angst.

dividers by @firefly-graphics and @newlips

Chris walks up and sits next to the woman. He’s heard so many good things about her. People always talk about her beauty, and he doesn’t blame them. She looks like a literal goddess. They talk about her good deeds, how she always helps others, how well her movies are doing, and that she’s one of the celebrities that don’t let fame get to her head. She’s the one Chris wants. 

In his mind, he’s seen how well they’d be together, their wedding, their kids, hell, even their grandkids. He was giddy when he heard that she would be there, and he thought this was finally his chance. 

“Hey, you come here often?” The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted it. ‘Stupid, stupid. Do you come here often? Only douchebags say that. Oh my god.’ 

I look over at the man who attempted to flirt, and to my shock, Chris Evans is sitting there. I roll my eyes, and a scowl appears on my face. ‘Just ignore him. He probably flirts with every female he comes across. We aren’t special. Don’t fall for it. He just wants to get in our pants.’

I smile politely, “I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.” I turn back to my drink, taking a sip. 

A frown replaces the little smirk Chris had on his face. He feels embarrassed and disappointed, clearing his throat. He nods, “yeah… sure. Uhm, I’m just gonna… yeah.” He quickly escapes, heading to the bathroom. He enters and looks at himself in the mirror. His eyes are red, and his anxiety has spiked. 

“You idiot, you had one chance, and you just ruined it. She was the one. I could feel it. Why did you have to… Oh god, I’ve lost my chance.” 

A stall opens and out walks an older man. He washes his hands before stopping and looking at Chris. “That was a pretty dumb thing to say, young man. But you should go back out there and be yourself. A woman like her wants a man. Not a boy” He places a hand on his shoulder, “go get her, son.”

And before Chris can say anything, the man disappears. He looks at himself in the mirror, “you got this, you can do it, just be yourself.” Nodding, he wets his face and then leaves the bathroom.

He sees that we’re in the same spot as before, and he starts to head over, but is stopped.

“Hey! Oh my god! You’re Chris Evans! I’m such a huge fan! OH MY GOD! My friends are always talking about how good we’d be together!” She takes out her phone and starts to get the camera on. Chris tries to smile politely, but he’s growing annoyed. He looks in our direction and sees that we’re already looking over. He must’ve been looking a certain way because he watches as you tip back the rest of your drink before heading over.

“Ohhh, my god! You should put your number in my phone! We should definitely hook up sometime!” My nose scrunches from what the woman said, ‘Jesus, could she be more… Ugh” Heading over to Chris, I smile. “Hey, I missed you while you were gone.” I wrap my arm around him and kiss him on his cheek. I look at the woman, and her eyes are wide, “Oh my god! You’re Y/N! I’m a huge fan!” I smile, “thank you, it was lovely meeting you.”

I lead Chris back to the bar after saying goodbye to the woman, “I’m sorry about before! I just really like you, and I wanted to make a good impression, but then I messed up and oh god… I really messed up.” Chris starts to ramble, and I touch his hand, causing him to look at me. “It’s okay.” 

“Can we start over?” He looks at me with hopeful eyes, and I nod. “Hi, I’m Chris. It’s nice to meet you.” 

“It’s nice to meet you too, Chris. I’m Y/N.”

Many years later, they are living happily together. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[mother-harrington]

Gotta be quiet – Eddie Munson

Summary: Eddie and y/n haven't been able to get a moment to themselves in forever, so when they finally manage to sneak away to the bathroom together it goes just as you could imagine.

Word count: 888 (lol what are the odds)

Content warnings: Smut. Unprotected sex (honestly be careful guys, condoms are cool). P in v sex. Needy. Bathroom sex. Nothing too graphic, I think?

“You’re gonna have to be quiet this time,” Eddie said as they scrambled to get their clothes off in the smallest of the four (!) bathrooms at the Harrington house. 

Having snuck away from the movie night Steve and Robin had put together for all of them, making up a stupid excuse about y/n losing one of her contacts and needing immediate assistance, they knew they didn’t have too much time and that they definitely couldn’t be as loud as they wanted to be.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” y/n said hurriedly, pulling Eddie into her for a kiss that felt as desperate as ever. She was almost seeing stars at the contact, not being able to kiss him for what seemed like days now after everything that had gone down lately. 

She managed to get his pants off swiftly, her hands finding his throbbing dick in a matter of seconds and pulling out a moan from deep in his throat. He pushed her up against the wall, starting off by planting soft kisses on her neck that turned into sucking once she started to jerk him off. 

“Y/n please…” Eddie sighed as the pleasure built inside of him and he shoved his hand down her front to reciprocate just how good she was making him feel. He almost lost it at how wet she already was, her panties almost soaking from the arousal, and his fingers eagerly ran circles around her swollen clit. 

“Fuck…” Y/n groaned in response, wanting nothing more than to feel all of him inside her. To hell with foreplay, at least this time. She was feeling way too needy and she could tell he felt the exact same way. 

Within seconds, both their pants were down and they were arranging themselves to help get just what they both needed, which meant y/n was sitting up on the sink with Eddie standing in front of her. 

They kissed  just as he pushed inside her, both of their moans synching with each other at the feeling. It was as if they were on fire, the neediness almost ridiculous. They hadn’t been able to get any time to themselves lately, so this little bit of privacy they could find wasn’t going to be wasted. 

Eddie took a second to enjoy the feeling of finally being connected with her before he started thrusting, and it was just as desperate as you could expect it to be. She wrapped her legs tightly around his body, her hands gripping onto his shoulders for dear life as every thrust just brought him deeper inside her. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my-” Y/n’s moans were muffled by Eddie’s hand covering her mouth, not wanting to be found out by their friends. 

“Shhh…” He said through his panting, his hips continuing to move into her, “Gotta be quiet, baby…” 

Y/n closed her eyes and moaned into his hand, her orgasm building quickly the faster he went. She wanted to scream his name so the whole world could hear how good he made her feel, she didn’t care one bit, but Eddie’s hand made that impossible. If her mind had been clear, she would’ve thought the same thing too because she really didn’t want Robin and Steve to give them shit about it, but in that moment it was frustrating as ever. 

Eddie could feel the sweat forming on his forehead and he had to close his eyes for a moment when he felt y/n’s orgasm making her clench around him, her thighs shaking from the pleasure. He could have exploded himself right then and there, but he couldn’t help but want to bring a second one out of her. 

He had to stop thrusting for a few seconds, opening his eyes to look into hers, a fucked-out look in them that he found so extremely hot. When he started up again, he lifted her left leg up his body so he could push in against her G-spot, making her squirm immediately. 

“Fuuuuuck, Eddieeeee…” She moaned out into the open now that his hands were focused on holding her in place, the thrusting picking up a faster pace than before. It didn’t take long for him to push her over the edge a second time, this one hitting just right inside her to get him soaked in her juices. He loved that trick, it was just as hot every time it happened. 

This did cause him to lose control, though, and with a few hard thrusts into her gorgeous wetness, he came flying over the edge and emptied himself deep inside her pussy, his lips connecting with hers as he did in an attempt to quiet down his sounds. 

When they broke apart, both of them were trying the best they could to catch their breaths, their hearts racing after the vigorous activity. Eddie brushed some hair out of y/n’s face, smiling at her as he did. 

“Fuck, I love you,” He said, kissing her once more before he pulled out of her, a small whimper leaving her mouth at the sudden emptiness inside. 

“I love you too…” Y/n replied, wrapping her arms around him to keep him close. She didn’t want to go back to the living room or to the real world, it was way better in here with him. 

[leviathans-watching]

Hi! I would like to request something about Mamon being a protective older brother to his little brothers! Whichever ones you want! (I just want some older brother!Mamon yeah) thank you for your awesome writing!!

wild and wired

includes: mammon & belphie, asmo

wc: 1.2k | rated t | m.list | crossposted on ao3

warnings: some mild, really non-graphic violence, mentions of potential sexual harassment, mentions of food and alcohol

a/n: this was super fun to write and i hope you enjoy!! i went with belphie and asmo for the brothers involved. thank you for requesting! my inbox is open to request, chat, and leave feedback so come say hello!! title from billianne's cover of simply the best

please reblog :0

“What’s going on here?” Mammon asked, his voice pointedly casual. “I don’t remember Belphegor telling me he had an appointment.”

A few of the demons on the outermost edge of the circle shifted nervously. Mammon was the second most powerful avatar, after all. He was nothing to scoff at.

“What?” Mammon continued, tilting his head at the demon holding Belphegor. “No response? And here I was, thinking you weren’t as stupid as you looked."

Mammon twirled his keys around on his finger, exiting the casino with a cheerful whistle. While some nights, he ended up losing all he came with (and more), tonight had been a good night, and he was walking out several thousand Grimm richer.

He also had some nice new baubles and trinkets, courtesy of those not protective enough of their pockets or aware enough of their jewelry. Mammon was teaching them a lesson; anyone could get their stuff easily and they should be lucky he didn’t swipe their whole wallets while he was at it.

Rounding a corner, mind occupied with deciding what he was going to get with his newfound riches, Mammon almost missed the scuffle from the nearby alley. Almost.

He really had no obligation to stop, but he did anyway, out of curiosity. He was such a stand-up guy. What he saw made him glad he had stopped. Belphie, his baby brother, was being held up by the collar. Several brawny demons were surrounding him, looking every bit like the stereotypical grunts they were. What had Belphie done to get mixed up with them?

Belphie snarled at the demon holding him up, and when someone raised their hand to strike him, Mammon moved.

“What’s going on here?” Mammon asked, his voice pointedly casual. “I don’t remember Belphegor telling me he had an appointment.”

A few of the demons on the outermost edge of the circle shifted nervously. Mammon was the second most powerful avatar, after all. He was nothing to scoff at.

“What?” Mammon continued, tilting his head at the demon holding Belphegor. “No response? And here I was, thinking you weren’t as stupid as you looked.”

Belphie looked between him and the demon holding him up, eyes wide. Belphie was no slouch in his own right. Mammon wondered why he hadn’t kicked all of their asses himself.

Lowering Belphie slightly, the demon sneered at Mammon.

“Get out of here. This doesn’t concern you.”

Mammon laughed, the sound chilling. “Au contraire. My little brother, my business.” When he smiled, it was decidedly more of a baring of teeth than any gesture of goodwill. “Now, put him down.”

“What are you going to do if I don’t?” The demon challenged, shaking Belphie slightly. Mammon’s blood boiled.

Drawing forth his power, Mammon could see the golden electricity cracking around him. Once, out of curiosity, he’d had Asmo photograph him when he was like this and knew he looked badass. It was easy then, to harness some of that power, an insignificant amount, really, and lobby it at the nearest demon, sending them crumpling to the ground.

A few demons took off, and Mammon let them go, more focused on those who stayed. Blocking their counterattacks and spells was simple, and soon enough, it was only him, Belphie, and the demon who held him left upright.

“I don’t want any trouble,” the demon said, and Mammon let out a vicious laugh.

“Oh, it’s much too late for that,” he hissed. “Now let him go. I was kind to your lackeys, but I’m afraid my patience is running low.”

After a long moment, Belphie was dumped on the ground and the other demon was disappearing out of the mouth of the alley. Mammon let him go, sure his magic could be traced later.

His golden power dissipated as he helped Belphie up.

“You alright?” he asked, and Belphie nodded, brushing his pants off.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Mammon replied, waving his hand. He had worked up quite an appetite using his power. Maybe he should get something to eat. “I’m out, unless you need me to walk ya home or something,” he continued, and Belphie looked at him, eyes wide.

“You’re not going to ask why I was tangled up in all of that?” he asked after a moment, and Mammon chuckled.

“Nah, I trust ya. And I’m no narc.” Giving Belphie a quick wink, Mammon turned around, a little skip in his step. He’d been wanting to try this new bar and now had the funds for it. He heard that they had really good burgers, which would definitely revive him.

“Um, thanks again,” Belphie called, voice still hesitant, and Mammon just waved again, not looking behind him.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, “unless you’re boasting about how cool and awesome I am, that is.”

*

The bar was pretty packed, but Mammon didn’t mind. Everything was always much livelier that way. He ordered his drink and food without hassle, then turned to watch the dancefloor while it was being made.

He wasn’t surprised to see Asmo out there, the life of the party, per usual. Wherever the crowd was, Asmo was inevitably leading them. Catching his eye, Mammon gave him a little wave, which Asmo returned with a grin.

Mammon got his drink, then his food, and ate at the bar. A few songs passed before he saw slender fingers reaching into his fries, stealing a few.

“Back off,” he said, turning to face Asmo, who was unrepentant. “Having fun out there?”

“Always,” Asmo chirped, draping himself over the back of Mammon’s seat. He wasn’t sweaty like everyone else who had been out dancing, rather, he freaking glistened, glowing in a way that was just unfair. “Some witch was getting kind of handsy, though.”

Mammon instantly scanned the floor, as if he’d be able to pick her out of the throngs of people. “I hate witches,” he muttered, looking back at Asmo. “Did she cross a line? Need me to get her kicked out of here?”

Asmo’s eyes crinkled at the corners with the force of his smile. “Nah, but thanks for offering.” He blew his hair out of his face with a little huff. “Nothing too bad, and I was getting tired anyway.��

Mammon squinted at him suspiciously. “If you’re sure…”

“I am,” Asmo cooed. “Oh, Mammon, you’re so protective. A real softie deep down.”

“Am not,” he argued, and Asmo tinkled a laugh.

“Are too,” he said, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to Mammon’s cheek. “I’m going to dance now.”

“Let me know if that witch - or anyone else - bothers you again,” Mammon said, rolling his eyes as Asmo took a few more of his fries, bracelets jangling.

“Of course, of course,” Asmo agreed, that annoying twinkle in his eye appearing that meant he was thinking something that would thoroughly ruin Mammon’s reputation. “You’ll handle them like you handled the dirtbags touching Belphie, right?”

“How’d you hear about that?” Mammon asked, and Asmo giggled again.

“We have our own group chats, you know,” he said, syrupy sweet. Mammon watched him float back onto the dancefloor, rolling his eyes. Little brothers were the worst.

But, a little voice in his head admonished, sounding suspiciously like Little D No. 2, they’re also the best.

leviathans-watching's work - do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

[folkloreguk]

💌🧸 Brother's Best Friend

A/N: Got this request a while ago and now I'm wondering why I've never written this trope before bc this was so fun??? Lmk how you liked it! x

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), smut, size/strength kink??, choking, dom!bias (it’s kinda playful tho), brother's best friend!au, sneaking around, play fighting, lowkey getting caught but not directly?

words: ~ 4.1 k

disclaimer: I don’t mean for the age gap to be gigantic…I’m talking about anything from 1-2 years maximum tbh!!! Anything else would be weird and I’m not about that! They’re also both obviously consenting adults!

[H/N means 'his (bias) name']

In youreyes, your first meeting had been a disaster. The new spider man movie had been released only days ago, and you were adamant on seeing it. And to your luck, your older brother and his best friend had already made plans to watch it together. As a little sister, you were treated like the baby of the family, and it didn’t matter that you were far from being an infant anymore. So naturally, your brother had been condemned by your parents to bring you along. He declared his distaste in your presence by attempting to ignore you, but you were used to that. Just like you were aware of his bad moods, you knew he could change within minutes and magically turn into the sweetest, most caring big brother you could wish for.

Whatever. You didn’t need his approval to enjoy the trip to the movie theater, you told yourself. Had it not been for his best friend, who you hadn’t seen in ages. H/N and you had never properly spoken before, and the last time you saw him he had been an awkward, prepubescent boy who had appeared at your door to pick up your brother for a playdate. There was no trace of immaturity now. Instead, it was you who had morphed into an awkward, shy mess at the sight of him.

His ‘hello’ had a warm and deep melody to it which swooped you up in his aura so suddenly, you had no time to prepare. Had his smile always been this stupidly charming? Hell, it was so bright, you had to meticulously inspect the ground every time he sent a grin your way. When before you hadn’t felt guilty for being a bother, you now sure did. What impression would you leave, trailing behind the older boys like a lost puppy? What would he take you for? The annoying little sister who didn’t have friends of her own? The mood-killer, who wouldn’t understand any of the boys’ inside jokes? The anti-social, weird girl who was obsessed with fictional men, like people loved to belittle teenage girls with normal interests?

As things turned out, his initial opinion of you was quite the opposite. If only you could have spied into his brain, it would have saved you a landslide of worry. Although your brother took up all of H/N’s attention before the movie started, he noticed you a good amount. To be precise, you blew him away at first sight. Your cute laugh won him over in a matter of seconds and he liked that your merch sweater could have been stolen straight out of his own closet. He didn’t want to feel too smug, but the way you diverted your eyes away from him whenever he looked in your direction only boosted his confidence further.

Your brother might have warned him. Stay away from her. She’s off limits for you. But not a thousand vicious, older brothers could have kept him from trying to get to you. It was up to you, after all, whether you wanted him around or not, and not to your brother. From that day on, H/N didn’t skip out on a chance to see you, even if it meant merely an exchange of a few words, or a simple greeting. And to his luck, you turned out to be equally as enraptured by him.

There was something about the untouchable, the forbidden, that attracted him to you even more. Plus, you were simply too precious to forget about. One morning, you dropped off a beanie at his place, which he had left at your house after meeting with your big brother the previous day. When he had asked if he could drive you to school as a thank you, you happily accepted. You had marked that day as the first day of your new life. First, it was harmless flirting. To be honest, you were under the impression he was merely messing with you. Because you were the cute little sister of his best friend. Because you would turn into an awkward shell of a person who had lost all ability to articulate, and your cheeks would burn as if they were on fire, whenever he charmed you.

But the flirting slowly reached newer levels, and before you knew it you were discussing your sexual fantasies over text messages and giving him bedroom eyes as you opened the front door for him. “H/N’s here!” you would then shout to your big brother. Then you would watch the two boys walk off to your brother’s room, pondering why life had to be this way for you. It wasn’t fair. Siblings were supposed to share, right? Why did you have to wait your turn until after midnight, when no one would notice, to spend time with H/N?

But to H/N, the sneaking around in the middle of the night and the secret messages you sent to each other, it all added to the excitement. Surely, there were days on which he wished he could just break the truth to your brother. The impact it could have on their friendship was enough intimidation for him to refrain, though. Things were better off this way, for now.

Today was no exception to your usual lies. When your brother asked if you would go out with him to do some shopping, you had played the victim and feigned a stomachache. Your parents wouldn’t be home all weekend. You’d have been stupid to waste a perfect opportunity like that. Who knew when you could have H/N in your bed the next time? Normally, you were restricted to his car, or to his bed in the dark of night. Yes, those places had something enticing at first glance. But the backseat of a car was only enjoyable for so many clandestine meetings. So today you notified him of your golden opportunity before your brother had even walked out the door.

The moment H/N texted you that he was outside your home, you opened the front door and dragged him to your room.

“Are you in control today, little one?” he asked, closing the bedroom door after you.

“Why are you asking that?” you replied, not wanting to talk at all but rather do so much more productive things.

“I don’t know…perhaps because you haven’t let me say a word since I came through the door,” he said.

“Right. Maybe I’m planning on tying you up, blindfolding you, and torturing you with ice and wax,” you joked in a casual tone, despite not usually requesting such graphic ideas.

“I don’t know if I’d let you do that,” he grinned with raised eyebrows. “Besides, I know you’d rather be at the receiving end of that. It’s a sweet idea, though. If we had some more time…”

“Think you could get away from me if I tied you up?” you said, but he was towering over you with the calmness of a king who knew he reigned over the situation.

“We both know I’m stronger than you, doll,” he said. You didn’t like it when boys called you weak. But you’d let it slide, knowing he was only joking and would never underestimate you outside of the bedroom. He put his lips right up to yours, so you felt his breath on them. His fingers came up to cup your face, but then slowly inched to your neck. When they closed around your neck, putting the slightest amount of pressure on your skin, you whimpered quietly.

“Need reminding?” he asked. As much pent-up frustration you had, and as much as your stomach was flipping upside down from how badly you needed him, you just had to play with him. You knew it would make for more fun.

“I think- “ you started, with a grin. Then you grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pushed him backwards, until he was stumbling. Although caught off guard, he was quick to pull you along with him as he fell onto your bed. You landed on top of him with a small squeal.

“Go on, let’s see who can throw the other off the bed first,” he teased with a superiority that only spurred you on. Then again, you would always be in the mood for the oldest childhood game you had ever known. Only now it wasn’t your brother, but his best friend you were playing against. It added a layer of excitement, and after only seconds, giggles had overtaken you as you struggled in his grip.

“No tickling is allowed,” you said. He nodded obediently with a smirk that told you he might not abide by your rules.

At first, you had attempted to hold him down by his arms. But your legs tangled, and he pushed his chest up against yours, like he was about to flip you over. Your plan seemed to be working only momentarily. You groaned a little as he grabbed your wrists swiftly and held his stance against your attempt to pull his upper body to the side.

“Cute,” he said. That’s when you realized, he was barely struggling, barely trying, even. While you were giving your most, he smirked like he was watching a kitten trying to fight a lion. It was child’s play to him, keeping you in check. Literally. With an annoying expression of amusement on his face, he let you have the upper hand for a while. Then, as if you had never had an ounce of advantage, he turned it around and pulled you into him. His eyes suggested he might just send you tumbling down onto the floor any moment now. Nonetheless, you weren’t going to give up so easily. Taking your chances, you let go of his arms and moved sideways, so you could have your go at pushing him towards the edge of the mattress.

“I don’t think so,” he said. Suddenly, he bear-hugged your body and rolled you both over. Before you could protest or defend yourself, your arm was dangling off the side of your bed and if you had moved a tiny bit further, you would have slid off the bedsheets and right onto your carpet. It was his turn to straddle you now. As if his actions hadn’t been enough declarations of his strength, he pinned your wrists to the bed above your head and gave you a challenging smirk.

“I was going to let you win, doll. But you weren’t trying hard enough,” he said. “What are you going to do about it?”

What were you going to do? He had you completely immobilized. “Just let it go, then. We get it, you’re super strong and super big and the coolest,” you said.

He seemed to take an instant liking to your declaration. “Say it again. This time minus the eye-rolling, sugar.”

“You’re stronger than me,” you said, trying to avoid the laughter that was threatening to come out. Could he read in your gaze how badly you wanted him to kiss you already? If he could, he wasn’t acting on it. Instead, he bent to the crook of your neck and spoke.

“Does it turn you on that I can overpower you?” his breath fanned your ear and you had to close your eyes to control yourself.

“Yes. Because I trust you,” you answered truthfully. The corner of his lips curled into a cocky grin.

“You know what? I think I’d rather you stay in bed with me instead of throwing you on the floor. There’s so many things we can do up here, isn’t that right, little one?” His lips brushed over your cheek and then over your lips as he spoke. The nickname had always made you weak in the knees and he knew it. When he finally enveloped your lips in a kiss, you swore you could feel an electric spark jump between the two of you. The mellowness of it turned into hunger rapidly, and as soon as his tongue flicked over your bottom lip, you whimpered like you hadn’t seen him in a year.

“Needy, are we?” he asked, running his hand up your sides and underneath your shirt. He could say that again. “Let’s get these off, then.”

The seconds in which you pulled off your clothes and couldn’t hang on his lips and feel his skin on your body should have been considered a form of torture in itself. Then, time always went by so much slower than usually.

When you had both shed off your clothes, he climbed back on top of you. Instead of straddling your hips he was now resting between your legs. There was nothing separating you from him, and it was apparent not only through the body heat that radiated off him. He reached down and whilst peppering kisses on your chest, slid his fingers through your slick arousal that was pooling in your core.

“You’re so wet,” he said in surprise, but couldn’t hide his approval and self-confidence in his voice.

“I know,” you said, rolling your eyes but simultaneously fighting the urge to moan at the smallest of touches he was teasing your with. “I’m so horny. Can’t we skip foreplay?”

“Poor doll,” he said. “I should’ve come over earlier, huh?”

“You know that wasn’t possible,” you said. With a desperate look, you pleaded him silently.

“I wanna taste you,” he said, but your put your hand on his cheek softly.

“Maybe later?” you said. “Please, I need to have you inside of me. Now.”

“You’re extra cute when you’re this needy,” he smiled. “Are there still condoms in your nightstand?”

You nodded and had never moved so fast to open a drawer in your life. Pretending to have any patience left, you waited for him to roll on the rubber.

“I love the way you look at me,” he said. “When you’re waiting for me. Could watch you for hours.”

“God, I hope you won’t. Come here, please?” you replied, making him chuckle. He lined himself up with your core, but then made no inclination to move ahead. His dark eyes and little head tilt told you everything.

“Don’t mess with me anymore,” you whined, reaching for the back of his neck to pull him closer. “Do it. H/N.”

“Beg for it.” His words twisted something in the pit of your stomach. Although you were burning with hunger, you could never say no to him. Then again, you were curious to see what would happen if you did.

“What if I don’t? Don’t you want to fuck me as much as I want it?” you challenged him. Something glinted in his eyes, and you knew you shouldn’t have even brought it up.

“I can always do this,” he said, and you followed his eyes down his body and to where he had wrapped his hand around his cock. Slowly, he jerked himself off, and you weren’t sure he was biting his lip because of the feeling or to discompose you. His small sigh should’ve been caused by you. This wasn’t what you had wanted. His tip was right by your slit. He could’ve pushed his length in so easily, and yet he wasn’t. Debating what to say, you kept your eyes trained on his hard member that looked so delicious in his hands. His deep groans rang in your ears. It didn’t take long for you to cave.

“Fuck. That should be me around you,” you said. “That should be my pussy you’re fucking and not your hands. Please.”

“Isn’t that right?” he said.

“Yes. Please, fuck me. I would feel so much better than your hands, and you know it. Please,” you whined. “I need you right now H/N. Please.”

You added another ‘please’ – for good measure – because the way his tongue darted out and licked his smirking lips could make you say anything if it would get him to fuck you.

“It’s okay, I’ll take care of you,” he said. “Think you can take me?”

“Yes, yes-, I can! Please, fuck me,” you said in a waterfall of words, and he chuckled handsomely.

“Good girl,” he said, running a gentle hand over your head. “If it’s too much you let me know.”

“As always.”

The tip of his cock gently pushed into your core, making you hold your breath as he entered you slowly. It caused you to feel every inch with every second. Your brain felt fuzzy, and you sighed gratefully at the relief.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” he moaned. The carefulness in his thrusts paired with his moon eyes at you only remained that way for a few seconds. Then, he straightened up and grabbed your hips to drag you in closer. You moaned helplessly when he almost pulled out completely, so slowly it almost made you crazy, only to slam his length into you until his tip brushed against the deepest spot inside of you. It was an action he repeated over and over, until you were reduced to a puddle of desperate whimpers, and you clasped the bedsheets in your hands tightly.

“You like it this way, little one?” he asked. He was apparently finding enjoyment in your reaction. How you could barely keep your eyes open, and when you did, your eyeballs threatened to roll to the back of your head. How your fingers clenched around the closest plushie, and you cradled it against your chest in bliss.

“Yes- fuck,” you said. “Feels so good.”

Of course, right as you said this, he had to change things up. His thrusts turned lazy and messy as he leaned backwards slightly. With an equally lazy demeanor, his thumb flicked over your clit, rubbing circles on it.

“Let me hear you. Say my name,” he said, and you quietly moaned his name. You adored the way it sounded, voiced like this, with barely more than a breath underneath your soft tone. Now and then, his cock slipped out of you, making you clench around nothing and furthermore had you going completely out of your mind. When he would push himself into your opening again, it felt as if it was the first time he was entering you today. Except you felt it repeatedly, each time as incredible as the previous. Your mouth hung open, rendered speechless except for the little moans and whimpers sounding from your throat. There was a familiar knot beginning to form in your stomach, tying firmer with each passing minute.

As if he could read your mind, he decided then he was done with his sweet torture of teasing you to an orgasm. You couldn’t be mad at him, though, because what he had planned was just as perfect, if not better. His hands wandered to their original place on your sides, and he began to snap his hips into yours at a faster pace. A small cry of surprise left your lips, while he only smirked at you through heavy-lidded eyes. Impulsively, you lifted your legs a little, intensifying the feeling of his member roughly dragging through your velvet walls.

“H/N, I’m so close,” you whimpered.

“Me too,” he replied, not slowing down for a second.

His broad frame towering over your body was a sight you would never get enough of and his gazes at you were hot enough that they could have stopped your heart in its tracks. A few strands of hair stuck to his forehead and there was a thin sheet of sweat on his neck. It all just made him more breathtaking to you. The slight pain from his nails digging into the skin on your waist was staggering, and you could barely wait to see the masterpiece of marks he would leave tonight.

You were a moaning mess, flying on cloud nine and simultaneously overwhelmed by his treatment of you. It clouded your mind at took over your whole body like you were made for him to fuck you. His length filled up your tight hole and he did it with such force that your whole body rocked into your mattress in a steady, fast-paced rhythm. He let go of your waist then and supported himself on his arm by the side of your head. When his other hand went to your neck you shuddered in anticipation.

“You should see yourself with my hand around your throat,” he said. “So pretty, little one.”

“We can do it in front of a mirror sometime- ,” you suggested, but were cut off at the end of the sentence as his fingers tightened on your neck. Instantly, the effect of it hit you. The lack of oxygen made your head swim in a sea of pleasure and the unrelenting desire to come. Through fluttering eyelids, you peeked up at him. The way he licked his lips and then clenched his jaw, the gorgeous shape of his collarbones and shoulders – you sometimes wondered if he was even real. Every so often he loosened his grip on you. When he did, you took gulps of air and then instantly whined for him to choke you again.

“Let go for me,” he said. “Show me your pretty face when I make you come. I’m fucking you well, aren’t I?”

You nodded as well as you could when he was gripping your throat and you couldn’t breathe properly at the moment. It didn’t matter you couldn’t talk. He was probably not expecting you to answer, either way. In a pleasure-induced trance, you closed your eyes and let it happen, like he had asked it from you. Your hazy consciousness barely registered that he was reaching his high with you. Too overcome were you, with your thighs trembling uncontrollably and your back arching off the mattress. He had let go of your neck and was riding out his own orgasm with sloppy thrusts that only sent you into another frenzy and had you whimpering his name softly. When he had finished too, he slowed down and pulled you into a gentle kiss, rubbing his nose against yours sweetly.

“That was amazing,” he said, and with a blissful hum you nodded. Your lips changed into a pout when he rolled off you and got up. You were tired of sending him back home so quickly. As he discarded the condom in the bin, you put on your most enchanting eyes, so he would have no other choice.

“Stay a little longer, please,” you asked. You knew he wanted to, as well. So although he was aware that your brother could return at any moment, he tumbled back into bed with you.

“Just for a little while,” he said. “Mhm…you’re so perfect to cuddle, baby.” His embrace was warm and his scent comforting, as he hummed a lovely melody. The soft touch of his fingers running through your hair lulled you right into a light sleep. You were awoken rather abruptly, and with half a heart attack.

“Hey Y/N, have you seen my charger- “ your brother’s voice suddenly broke through the silence and you wondered if you would have to pack up and leave the country after this sort of embarrassment.

“It’s not what it looks like,” you said, knowing well enough it was the dumbest thing you could have said. But who could blame you? You had only woken up two seconds ago.

“Really?” your brother asked. “Because I hear H/N sneak into our house so often lately, I’m starting to wonder if his parents threw him out.”

His tone was surprisingly calm.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you,” H/N said to your brother. “I thought you’d hate me and that we’d be over as friends.”

“I know I told you once to leave Y/N alone. But now…I guess it’s cool. She’s been in a great mood lately, and if that’s thanks to you, I think I can approve of you two. Although I’m not looking forward to being a third wheel, I think I can get used to it if I try hard enough,” your brother said. You couldn’t believe your ears, and involuntarily smiled like a fool. No more hiding. No more secrets.

“I stole your charger. I’m sorry,” you said then, making your brother roll his eyes. “It’s by the sofa in the living room.”

“Great. I needed a reason to leave anyway,” your brother said. “I might approve of you, but this situation is still too awkward. I’ll see you tomorrow, then, H/N?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” the boy in your bed said.

“You’ll see me too!” you added as a joke, as your brother already walked away from the door.

“Unfortunately I will!” your brother shouted, with the unnerving tone only a big brother could possibly muster.