#like I kept floating off more and more and then everything in my body paused like I hit a wall

[redhotarsenic]

.

[13a07s]

Ovulation Week

(Koshi Sugawara)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to SUKJA]

Requested by: Myself, duh

Word Count: 3,478

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

[Reader]'s being a horn-dog (sadly, no smut)

Hickeys

Mentions of Scratch Marks

Dry Humping/Sex

Sorry it took so long to get another story out. It's been hectic trying to balance work and moving :(

———————————————————————

My speaker leaks into Koshi's room when I open the bathroom door, painting his everything-in-its-place bedroom with a soft melody. Despite everything being kept perfect, my things are spread across the room. Textbooks and homework decorating his magazine-style perfectly made bed, my weekend bag hanging off his closet door, and my bookbag resting in the lounge chair in the corner.

     I slowly make my way over to Koshi's bed, tightening the towel hugging my body before I sit on the edge of it; a leg curled up under me as the other one dangles. My mind is preoccupied, putting my after-shower things on pause long enough to scroll through the school's homework app in search of Friday's lecture from my college algebra class.

     When I find the video, I boot it up making my teacher's monotone voice quickly replace the artist I was just listening to. My mind hangs onto every word of the lecture, dropping my phone to the bed before wandering off to coat my skin in lotion.

     I let my towel tumble to the ground, picking up the strawberry lotion Koshi keeps on his dresser for me to use. I hate the feeling of lotion on my hands, my skin instantly feeling like needles, but I like the smooth feeling it leaves everywhere else.

     I try focusing on my lecture, using it to ignore the feeling of lotion on my hands. I rub it into my skin as quickly as possible, rushing to coat my body in it and get it off my fingers. Once I'm done, I shake my hands around, rubbing them over my neck again to try and get the icky feeling off. When that doesn't work, I pick up my towel to rub the residue off; that does help.

     Slowly, I float over to the closet, tossing my body towel into Koshi's laundry basket before slowly shaking my hair out of the towel it's wrapped in; adding my second towel to the basket.

     My focus is back on my lecture, trying to visualize what the professor is saying. I was working on homework before my shower, trying to make a dent in it well Koshi was at volleyball practice.

     I always tease him about it, begging him to skip to spend more time with me, but I know he can't. A part of his scholarships is linked to the college's volleyball team so he has to go, hence why it's just teasing. I ended up getting frustrated with my math homework, so I decided to shower as a short break.

     I dig through my weekend bag, taking out my hairbrush before making my way back to the bed. I settle on the bedding again, crisscrossed on the mattress before I flip my phone the right way. My eyes stick to the screen, watching the different numbers shift and work their way through their equation.

     As I'm focused on the video lecture, I work my brush through my hair, carefully detangling it. My fingers work through my hair too, chasing after my hairbrush to help weave the knots out.

     The doorknob turning catches my attention, tugging my eyes away from my phone. "I don't know. Take out probably," Koshi's voice rings out, most likely answering his roommate.

     My boyfriend finishes opening his bedroom door, turning around to walk into the room. He freezes halfway through the frame, hand still clinging to the doorknob, eyes blown out as he stares at me, and mouth gapped open a bit.

     Small noises spill from Koshi, his cheeks quickly reddening. "I... um... Gorgeous, I..." He lets out a puff of air, eyes jumping around my body. His cheeks are as red as chili peppers at this point, almost painfully standing out against his pale skin.

     "I'm sorry," he finally pushes out, turning away from me. Koshi hurries back out of the room, slamming the door behind him, and making the whole doorframe shake. "Sorry, Gorgeous!" He yelps, the words a bit muffled.

     I stay still on the bed, slowly blinking at the wooden door as I finish brushing my hair. The sound of his roommate cackling snaps me out of the small trance I'm in, my head shaking at Koshi's behavior. I swear, that man acts like we didn't spend last night committing sins. "Koshi?" I call, rolling out of the bed.

     "Gorgeous?" He calls back, his voice a bit strained. "Are you... um..."

     This time I roll my eyes at the man, quickly making my way to his closet. I tug a shirt out of my bag, pulling on a set of underwear before I tug the cloth on over my head. As I'm situating my shirt, I make my way to the door. "Koshi," I repeat, opening the door enough for me to peer out.

     The man in question slowly turns around, his eyes instantly falling to my thighs where the hem of the shirt rests halfway down. "That's... uh... hi?"

     "Hello," I greet back, turning to walk away from the door. Koshi slips into the room, fully this time, before closing the door behind him. "You're such a weirdo," I tease, plopping back on his bed.

     "I'm not a weirdo. I just... panicked," he grumbles, buzzing around the room to put his shoes and bag in their places. "I didn't think you were going to be naked when I got home."

     "I didn't either," I giggle, flicking my eyes away from the lecture long enough to catch a glimpse of Koshi. "I thought you had practice until noon."

     "Coach let us out early," he shortly explains, a weary kiss being plopped to my head before he flutters away, flusteredness still lingering in his movements. "I'm going to go shower." I hum an acknowledgment toward him, pulling my textbook closer to me. "Can I borrow your phone or can you disconnect your phone from the speaker?" I hold my phone out toward him, too lazy to either one of his requests. "Thank you," Koshi mutters, taking my phone from me.

     Again, I hum, this one a 'you're welcome' instead of a simple acknowledgment. My lecture is cut off, replaced by whatever song he wants to listen to. Soon after, the sound of the shower running mixes with the soft music.

     I slowly melt off the bed, dragging my textbook with me until my knees meet his floor, the expensive book settling on the edge of the bed. I stay hunched over the mattress, eyes carelessly scanning the algebra I don't have a desire to understand. I bet I could talk Koshi into doing my math for me if I offered to do his history assignment.

My head lulls to the side, resting against the heavy knowledgeable but confusing writing, my mind repeatedly reading the same paragraph. "It would be easier to read if your head wasn't lying on the text," Koshi lectures, startling me a bit. I didn't notice his shower ending, or him leaving the bathroom.

Slowly I pick my head off the book, tilting it backward to look at my boyfriend. "It would be easier if you just did it for me," I murmur, most of my mind and my eyes preoccupied. Koshi is standing right behind me, a towel loose and low on his hips. My eyes eagerly follow the water droplets dripping from the ends of his hair, landing on his shoulders, sliding down to his chest and quickly trailing his torso before disappearing under his towel.

"You won't learn anything if I keep doing it for you," his lecture continues both hands on his hips, one focused on keeping his towel in place. How disappointing; an accidental towel drop would be enjoyable.

"Are you going to give yourself the same lecture next time you ask me to do your history assignment?" I ask, eyes jumping to find another droplet to tail.

"Touché," Koshi mutters, a lopsided smile on his face. "Still, math it's important."

"So is history."

     "You got me there," he softly chuckles, turning to walk away from me. First no towel drop and now no eye fucking either. How boring. "You can admire me after your homework is done," Koshi calls over his shoulder as if he can read my mind.

"Or I can admire you while I do my homework," I try to counter, turning so my eyes can roll across his back. Koshi's back is still littered with proof of last night; four beautiful scratch marks smoothly running across the dips and hills of his shoulder blades and a few hickeys littered here and there across his shoulders.

"We tried that last night and well... we both still have a mountain of homework to do," he mutters, checking himself over in the body mirror hanging on his wall before finally letting his towel drop.

My eyes quickly fall, admiring the hard work of receives and the standard volleyball stance. They sure have done wonders for my boyfriend's ass. I'm up on my feet within seconds, strolling my way over to the beautifully slim setter. "So?" I murmur, wrapping my arms lower than needed on his torso.

"So," Koshi teases, a wider smile on his face as he stares at me in the mirror. "We have homework to do."

"I want to do you," I tell him, suctioning my mouth to a lower section of his shoulder.

"Can do."

"Yes," I softly cheer, the word dragged out as I celebrate.

"After all our homework is done."

"No," I whine, stringing the word out in a similar fashion.

     "Well one of us has to be responsible and it's not you, Gorgeous," Koshi teases, a hand settling on top of where my wrists cross over his stomach. He softly squeezes my wrists, tipping his head to gently knock it against mine.

"You don't always have to be responsible," I murmur, letting my fingertips toy with the v-lined muscles that stretch down his stomach and aim toward his dick.

A shiver rattles through Koshi, his hand tightening around my wrist from the soft touches. "Gorgeous," he mutters, cheeks red again, paired with a weary smile as he looks at me through the mirror. "We have homework to do."

"And I have you to do," I tease, latching my mouth to his shoulder again. "You're so tense from practice. Let me help you relax a bit before we work on homework," I add, letting my fingers trail the outline of his abdomen again.

Koshi shivers again, his eyes fluttering closed as he enjoys the soft touches of my fingertips and the gentle sucking of my lips. Hissy breaths spill from him, chest pumping a bit quicker. "Kosh," I purr, sliding my tongue over one of the bruises I placed on him last night. The bruise isn't left alone for long, my mouth instantly replacing my tongue to deepen the coloring.

"Gorgeous?" He calls back, my pet name coming out staggered from Koshi's attempt to hide his noises. "We... we have... homework. Homework," he mutters, tugging my hands off himself.

I pout, but detach myself from his shoulder and let him tug my touch away from his stomach. "I don't want to do my homework."

"You have to, Gorgeous. How else am I supposed to have a high-positioned sexy sugar mama to take of me?" Koshi teases, raising my hands so he can press a few kisses across them.

"You could pick a different field to go into," I joke back, a soft sigh leaving my body because of the gentle loving he's always quick to offer. Koshi's wanting to be a teacher is part of why I love him. It's always so cute seeing him so excited about becoming a teacher. So, as long as he enjoys being a teacher, I don't mind being the future breadwinner of our home.

"Never," he mutters, pecking my knuckles once more before dropping his hold on my hands. "Go start your homework while I get dressed."

I whine as I slouch back over to the bed. I don't want to do my homework, I don't want to be responsible. I want Koshi buried between my thighs; his head or his dick, I'd be happy with either. I flop on the bed, careful to avoid all my stuff littered on the covers.

My eyes are back to trailing over my boyfriend, not hiding my thoughts or the fact I'm sure I'm looking at him like a slab of meat. I wonder if I'm ovulating. Maybe that's why I'm so wrapped up with Koshi.

My sights trail his every movement, watching as he tugs on a pair of boxers, hiding his delicious v-line and his dick I feel like I'm melting over. I'm definitely ovulating. A disappointing sigh spills from me when a shirt is pulled over Koshi's head, hiding my hard work from the night before. "We should have sex."

His cheeks flesh for a second, another shaky smile on his face. "Gorgeous, I enjoy having you in that sort of way, all the time. I'd even enjoy it now, but we should get our homework done."

I groan, letting myself slide off the bed again. My head lulls to the side, watching my boyfriend make his way to me, to his bed. "It's only Saturday. We could do it tomorrow."

"We said that last night but guess what? We spent the whole night pleasing your hormones," he softly chuckles, crouching down to be closer to my height. "You're a needy thing during your ovulation."

That makes my face heat up. I've been with Koshi long enough that I shouldn't be embarrassed about my cycle but I still am; some parts of it more than others, of course. "You don't know that's what's going on for sure," I mutter, snapping my head away from him.

"Of course I do," he murmurs back, toying with the ends of my hair, a cocky smile on his face. "Do you honestly think I didn't check your cycle app after you tried to fuck me in the parking lot last night?"

My cheeks heat up more at Koshi's soft teasing; partly because I'm embarrassed and partly because it's true. I was ready to fuck him in the back seat of my car if he would have let me. "Stop being so hot and maybe it won't be such a problem."

He leans down, shoving his nose into my neck to hide his heated cheeks. "Come on, let's do our homework," Koshi mutters, his arms wrapping around me to help pull me to my feet. I continue to groan, letting him tug the both of us upright. "Homework, Gorgeous, then I'll do whatever you want."

"Whatever I want?" I ask, cheering up at the offer, a million different ideas already flickering through my mind.

"Within reason," he backtracks, a soft pink dusting his cheeks once again. Koshi continues tugging on me, placing me back on the bed. As soon as my back hits the mattress, I wrap my legs around his waist, keeping them tight over his hips. His cheeks grow darker and his breath a bit huffy as I pull him against me. "Gorgeous, this isn't homework," he mutters, hands gripping my thighs as he looks down at me.

"Sure it is. It's an anatomy lesson," I tease, arching my hips up to press against his slowly growing hard-on.

A soft noise bubbles from the boy between my legs, the sound coming out muffled from him trying to shove it back down his throat. "Neither of us are taking an anatomy class this semester," he babbles, eyes closed tightly, and hands tight on my flesh.

"So?" I ask, tightening my legs again, keeping Koshi pressed against me.

A muffled whine falls from him, his fingernails digging into my thighs. "Just... a few assignments, Gorgeous. You only have like... four or five, right? It won't take that long. I'll even do your math homework for you."

"What a sweet boy I have," I coo, jerking my hips upward once more before dropping my legs off of him.

Koshi doesn't move away from me though, in fact, he pulls me closer, the imprint in his boxers rubbing against my panties. He's softly panting, working his hips against mine as his eyes bounce around the textbooks spilled out on his bed. "You'll... you'll do my history for me... right? Since I'm doing your math homework?"

"Of course, baby," I mutter, my hands shooting forward to cling to the hem of his shirt. My back arches a bit, helping Kosh rub against the right spot. My perfectly kept, strait-laced boyfriend is as much a sex fiend as I am, he just hides it better than me.

His movements stall every few thrusts, freezing for a moment as he whines before he picks them up again. "Temptress," Koshi whimpers, pressing his hips against me once more before jerking away from me.

He rolls over, lying on the bed next to me as he tries to calm himself down. Koshi's eyes are closed, his panting slowing down as he unwinds the workup he caused himself. Well, I might have had a hand in it too. "Gorgeous temptress," he teases again, opening his eyes and turning his head toward me.

"You love it," I poke back, rolling on top of him, my knees on either side of his body as I settle myself pressed against him. Instantly, Koshi's hands jump up, clinging to my hips.

"Temptress, temptress, temptress," he babbles, helping me to rub myself against him. My eyes tumble over Koshi, watching the slow build-up of his needs again as I fake-ride him.

"Homework," he suddenly yelps, flipping us over. He's quickly parted from me, cheeks bright and movements flustered as he works his distance from me. I can't help the soft giggles from spilling over, my flustered Koshi fixing his penis in his boxers as he mutters to himself about me being a 'temptress' and a 'distraction'.

"You loved every second of that and you know it," I tease, sitting upright, my knees situated under myself as I watch him walk circles in his room. "It wouldn't hurt to just slide yourself in."

"Stop that," he yelps, shooting me a stern look. "Stop trying to distract me. We're doing our homework. No sex until our homework is done, am I understood?"

"Yes, Sugawara-Sensei," I continue to tease, faking a nervous twirling of the hem of my shirt. "I won't let it happen again, Sensei. I hope my misbehavior doesn't get me detention. I would just hate two hours alone in a room with you. Absolutely hate being bent over your desk while you spank my ass with a ruler - "

     "Homework!" Koshi yelps, cutting off my teasing role-play. Maybe that's why I'm so delighted that my boyfriend wants to be a teacher; it'll make for a fun reoccurring role-play. His cheeks are on fire, the reddest they've been all day as he stumbles around the room, reaching for my math textbook so he can do my homework for me.

     I can't help the smug grin on my face or the chuckles that spill from his reaction. Who says we have to wait for Koshi to get his degree before he's a teacher? He can teach me. "Alright," I pretend to give in, mischief already being plotted.

     He settles on the bed, propped up against the headboard as he glances through the chapter. I go into action, handing him my notebook with the pencil through the spine and the neglected calculator so he doesn't have to move from his spot. Koshi is quickly sliding into productive mode, mumbling to himself as he looks over the homework assignment doodled on the top of the page. Thirty questions from the last page of the chapter; not a lot quantity-wise but a lot time-wise.

     My eyes stay stuck on him, waiting for him to start working through the first question. When the pencil hits the paper, I start inching forward, slowly making my way under his arm and into his lap. "Koshi?"

     "Gorgeous?" He mutters, eyes flicking back and forth from my textbook to my notebook. I jerk my hips, Koshi's hand shooting down to grip my hips as he stifles a whine. "My darling gorgeous woman, I'm doing your homework for you so you don't have to."

     "I know you are," I hum, setting a slow pace to my hips. "But you said I 'won't learn anything if you keep doing it for me' so, teach me, Sugawara-Sensei," I start up my flirting again, pushing my hips down harder to add more pressure to his still-hard dick.

     "I swear, your ovulation week is going to be the death of me," he breathes out, breath shaky and strained as he shoves my hips into a faster pace.

     "You enjoy my ovulation week."

     "Ya, ya, I do."

[lalalunel]

Pathetic Leon pt. 6

Leon was vaguely aware of how thin his walls were. He found out the hard way when he first moved in and he happened to live next to a younger couple. He had a lot of sleepless nights when they decided they wanted to do it till the sun came up. He kept it in mind, but didn’t think much else about it. Particularly, he didn’t think to mention it to you when you were staying over. 

Leon was blissfully laying back in bed Thursday night, a half empty bottle of whiskey on his night stand and a glass in his hand as some random mystery show played on TV. For once, you didn’t plague his thoughts, the state of his mind matched the emptiness of the bottle. That of course didn’t last long. He really could never catch a break, could he?

He thought he was hearing things at first or that the show he was watching was making the noise, but his eyebrows furrowed when he turned down the volume and the noise he was hearing became clearer. A very distinct giggle poured through from the wall, the one that connected your room to his. His eyes lost focus on the TV as he strained his ears to hear whatever was going on with you. A little creepy, maybe, but tipsy Leon was a curious Leon. 

“No yeah, i’m not at my place… my dad said something about wanting to renovate, I wholeheartedly think he was just lying to get me out of the house so he and my mom can get it on…” The sentence was followed by a series of giggles and incoherent words, another voice floating through faintly with yours. He assumed whoever you were talking to was on speaker. “I’m staying with my dad’s friend. The one I told you about, Leon,” You mention and Leon perks up slightly. You talk about him? He was so definitely kicking his feet and blushing at that. Metaphorically, of course..

He was sipping on his whiskey a little too smugly when he paused at what you said next. “Hear me out okay?… if he had kids he would be considered a DILF, right?” The question made him sputter, choking on the bitter amber liquid that he had just taken a mouthful of. He sat up, trying to contain his coughing so you didn’t catch on that he was listening. You were silent for a moment and he was scared you realized he was listening until he heard you snickering. “No c’mon! You saw the pictures! He’s hot right?... Okay, you can’t make me feel weird about this, you used to like your babysitter. If anyone’s a freak here it's you.” Leon sort of began to tune everything out after that, staring off into space as his mind tried to catch up with the information he just received. 

You thought he was hot, DILF level hot actually. You sent pictures of him to your friend to talk about how hot you thought he was. You said something about kids.. One thought came to mind--many thoughts, actually, it's just that a lot of them had to do with him making kids with you and he had to shove them to the back of his mind to focus on what was actually important--he had to wonder, did you ask to stay with him on purpose? Did sweet little you have an ulterior motive behind wanting to stay with your dad’s friend? 

He laid there questioning that for the rest of the night, not getting the hours of sleep that his body begged him for because a few more glasses in and those pesky thoughts about kids with you started to resurface. For the second night in a row, he found himself with his mind in the gutter and his cock in his fist. 

~~~

One day I'll take the time to make this all pretty and tag it nice, for now I'm just writing about honry Leon and trying to go shower fr

[bridgyrose]

Nuts and Dolts Week: Day 7

Ruby clutched the piece of Floating Array she had kept from the fall of Beacon, the sword still felt foreign in her hands. She had spent weeks practicing with it as another option for close combat since she still wasnt all that great unarmed. But at least using the sword was going to be another option. 

“Are you ready?” Jaune asked as he held his sword and shield up. “You know I’m not going to go easy on you.” 

“I am,” Ruby said as her fingers trembled. “I have to be.” 

“Then your training starts now!” 

Ruby stepped back as she blocked Jaune’s strike, not expecting the power that came from it. Her arms trembled as she made her own strike against him, hitting his shield as he blocked. The sword vibrated in her grip as she took a few more steps back. It was still different from fighting with her scythe, Floating Array vibrated differently, built to be used remotely and not by hand. Still, she looked over Jaune and rushed behind him with her semblance to strike his back. 

Her blade was once again met with Jaune’s shield, and then a strike from his blade against her. She struck back over and over only to feel Jaune’s shield against her blade and then a strike of his own hitting her over and over again until her aura broke. Her legs finally gave out as she dropped to the ground panting. She looked up at him as he held a hand out to her. 

“Are you sure you’re still okay?” Jaune asked. “You still seemed distracted.” 

“I’m fine,” Ruby said as she took his hand. “I just need to practice.” 

Jaune shook his head. “I’ve seen when you’re fine. This… this isnt fine.” 

Ruby sighed and looked at the blade of Floating Array, swearing she saw Penny’s face in her reflection. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she gripped the hilt again, voice cracking as she spoke. “I… I have… I have to be ready to get my answers. I need to know why our friends had to die, why Penny had to be killed like that.” 

“And you’ll get those answers when we head off. You’re still recovering, Yang still needs you-” 

“What about what I need?” Ruby half yelled at him. She took a breath and wiped away her tears as she held Floating Array up. “I’m ready again.” 

“Your aura-” 

“I’ll be fine. Please, I need to be ready. This is all I have left of Penny and I need to make sure I can use it when I can’t use my scythe.” 

Jaune sighed and raised his own sword and shield. “Alright, but if I draw blood, we’re done.” 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ruby stared at the melted blade in her hands, her breathing starting to feel panicked. Everything on the bridge had gone wrong, Cinder had melted the only piece of Floating Array she had been allowed to keep as a wish from Penny, as an offering of her love. And now, it was damaged beyond repair and she still wasnt sure if Penny had survived.

“Ruby!” Weiss called out. “There you are!” 

Ruby quickly sheathed her melted blade and looked over at Weiss, surprised to see her. “Weiss. What are you doing here?” 

“I fell too. Just like you did.” 

“And… and Penny?” 

Weiss looked away. “Let's find Yang and Blake first.” 

Ruby felt her heart stop when she saw the look Weiss tried to hide, the sorrow in her eyes and the crack in her voice as she spoke. It was the silent answer that gave her enough of an answer about Penny’s fate, once again losing the woman she tried to save, the woman that she vowed to keep alive no matter what. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the last reminder she had, wrapping them around the hilt. “She… she died, didnt she?” 

Weiss stopped in her tracks, pausing before she spoke. “I-I’m sorry Ruby. Jaune tried to save her, but Cinder… we really should find Yang and Blake first. I dont want to explain this more than once.” 

“We did everything right,” Ruby said through a few tears. “We used the scepter to save her, gave her soul a new body, made sure she would live… and I still couldnt save her!” 

“And it wasnt enough this time-” 

“She has to be alive! She has to be here!” 

“Wait Ruby-” Ruby rushed off deeper into the forest of the Ever After, her semblance carrying her as far as she could go. The scars on her arms burned as she pushed herself to use every last drop of aura she had, finally dropping out of her semblance and crashing on the ground. Her eyes widened as she watched what remained of Floating Array drop into the water in front of her, sinking until it was out of sight. Her body went limp as she lost the strength to keep going. Beyond her memory, Penny was gone. Forever. 

[multicolour-ink]

This is for the prompt

Mario "i beg of you please, don't hurt Luigi"

"I beg of you, please, don’t hurt [name]"

writing prompts

Takes place in the Mario Movie verse SPOILERS FOR SUPER PAPER MARIO

(further authors notes under the cut)

- - -

It was supposed to turn out differently.

Get the Pure Hearts, save all the worlds. That was how it was supposed to go.

Except now they found themselves facing against the unhinged jester who they had thought was merely Bleck's minion; along with a creation of his own monstrosity.

And Luigi was caught right in the middle of it.

"Isn't this delightful?", Dimentio's almost musical voice trilled. "What a glorious construction of myself and our Man in Green!"

Mario didn't answer. He clenched his fists, eyes burning. Neither he nor his companions could move because magical binds were latched around their wrists, their power forcing them to kneel on the ground.

"Surely", continued the jester, his eyes equally burning back with gleeful malice, "You ought to thank your brother for this wonderful turn of events."

Mario's heart stung as he looked at his brother. Luigi was pinned in place. Dark magic in part from Dimentio and the Chaos Heart prevented him from moving anywhere, locked in a fabricated prison. Even more disturbingly, the floral sprout that had seized control of him the moment Dimentio had activated it, had crawled ever tighter around the gaps of his cheek bones, across his mouth, and around his neck. Winding ever so much further down his body until every limb was under command of the parasite.

"You cannot begin to imagine how much I have dreamt of this moment!", Dimentio cried as he floated next to Luigi.

The green plumber still seemed to have life in him, for he whimpered and attempted to move away from Dimentio's very presence. Mario saw glints of tears in those innocent blue eyes.

"Getting the heroes to do all the work. Pretending to be the Count's loyal minion and acting like I was invested in his plan to destroy the worlds, when all I really wanted to do was recreate everything in my own perfect image! And to top it all off, the fabled Man in Green is the brother of the hero!"

Dimentio suddenly stopped his monologue and quick as a blink was right in front of Mario.

"So tell me, Man in Red", asked the jester. His eyes bore into Mario with manic exhilaration. "Doesn't that get you excited?"

Mario growled in response. It was all he could do, for his shaking wrists were bound so tight that he couldn't move them to strike even if he wanted to. All he could do was glare back with a look so scorching, it would've no doubt melted Dimentio on the spot.

The jester looked over Mario in thought, and then he pressed a glowing hand to Mario's chest. Mario gasped and tried to throw him off, but the jester's dark magic kept him firmly in place. The plumber felt like he was being searched inside. A powerful force was making its way in places that it shouldn't ever be and Mario was frozen in place, beside himself as he found himself unable to even speak.

He heard Peach give a cry of concern.

Seeming to find what he was looking for, the jester then gave an amused smirk and lifted his hand away. Mario gasped as if he had been submerged in water, and just as quickly the hatred he felt for this twisted jester came back in force.

"Interesting", Dimentio spoke up before Mario could. He paused and looked back at Luigi. The green plumber had seemingly reacted to whatever the jester had been doing to Mario, as the tears were now pouring down his cheeks and the vines had wrapped around him even tighter.

"I wonder what would happen...?", the jester mused as he turned back to Mario. He grinned widely.

"How would it feel, if the piece of him that resides within you were to just...disappear?"

Mario shook with hatred.

Dimentio cackled.

"Oh it's perfect!", he shrieked. "Hurt the enemy through love. So poetic! But in my world, you won't need any feelings like that."

He snapped his fingers and the vines holding Luigi's limbs loosened a little and the green plumber slumped to the ground.

Mario heard him sobbing.

"Witness the birth of a new world! My world!", Dimentio cried joyfully. "You will wither away as I remake this pitiful existence. Get ready for the Greatest Sh-"

He was suddenly cut off as something struck him hard in the chest. Dimentio shrieked again as he was thrown back by the force, tumbling and rolling over before colliding with the nearest wall.

The jester staggered to his feet, hand to his chest. His breaths pained.

The air was suddenly silent, save for the laboured breaths of Mario, who had somehow broken out of the magical binds and had punched Dimentio with every ounce of strength he had. It seemed to take a lot out of him though, for the red plumber stumbled as he tried to right himself up. His fist shook from both exhaustion and anger, as he stared the jester down, daring him to make another move.

Peach, Bowser, Tippi, and everyone else were equally as stunned and afraid as they gazed at the Red Hero. Luigi looked too through glazed eyes; admiration and fear for his brother temporarily overcoming the magic.

Dimentio looked down at his chest as he took his hand away. The diamond on his chest was now cracked, shards falling away from it like dust.

For a fleeting moment the jester stared in disbelief, and then all too quickly his expression became jovial and dangerous again.

"Well", he said coldly. "This got interesting."

And before anyone else could react he somersaulted up into the air again and landed behind Luigi. To everyone's horror, he yanked Luigi's head back, one hand pressed into the green plumber's throat.

Mario's heart stopped.

"Please", his voice trembled. "I beg of you please, don't hurt Luigi!"

He hated having to act like this. He hated having to beg to that jester who he more than anything wanted to do worst things to. But he'd made a grave mistake. He had aggravated Dimentio even more, and there was no telling what he was going to do now. He had to hold it back. For the sake of his brother.

But Dimentio only grinned.

"That's how we're going to play, Man in Red? So be it."

He moved the hand that was holding Luigi's throat away, and snapped his fingers.

All at once, Luigi let out a guttural scream, as the floral sprout glowed red and sprouted even more vines around him, wrapping him tighter and tighter. Very soon he slumped forward. His eyes didn't even hold any emotion, for they were now fully glazed over with no recognition at all.

"Luigi!", Mario cried. His heart pounded as he didn't breathe, didn't think, only able to watch as his brother was taken somewhere he couldn't follow.

"Time", said Dimentio giving a gracious bow in front of his creation. "For the Ultimate Showdown!"

- - -

Authors notes under the cut

So...Dimentio in the Mario Movie verse?

In all seriousness, wanting Dimentio in the movie verse is an idea I've had for a while, and I even drew up some ideas of what he might look like. I don't know if or when I will ever post them (for they are unfinished), and for a while I just let it go as I got caught up in other things, and drawing anything SPM was becoming taxing. But then I saw this prompt show up in my inbox and I thought "Oh yeah, I know exactly what to do for this one!"

I understand that in terms of the actual movie verse, they can't go too dark in terms of the character himself, but just picturing Dimentio acting as such a flamboyant and psychotic clown (where have I seen that before?) at the very end is something I really would love to see, no joke! I think it would be pretty fun. There's nothing wrong with this new verse playing around with characters a little.

Anyway, hope you all like. I understand if this is not what the anon was expecting...but I hope they also enjoy it too.

Take care <3

[asirensrage]

East of the Sun, West of the Moon

Title: East of the Sun, West of the Moon Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Rating: Uhh...Teen? Pairing: Kokonoi Hajime x Inui Seishu, mentioned!Koko x Akane Word count: 1629 Warnings: Merpeople? Off-screen canon character death. Dubious Consent for a kiss? Non-human/Human relationship. Implied forced magic/species change? unbeta'd Summary: He had paid the price for the magic he desired. Coming to the surface to meet his prize does not go as expected.

Notes: This is my first thing done for Mermay! I wrote it all this morning after a friend of mine suggested this couple. This is my first time writing for them (and technically my first m/m oneshot lol). I hope you enjoy it.

It’s been too long since he’s had a chance to come back to the surface. He’s been busy, working to find the right witch with the right magic for his desires. There is a cost for everything and he had paid heavily, more with parts of his soul than his body. He was shrewd enough to keep the damage to others, not himself. Finally though, he had what he wanted. He was ready to make his courtship fully known and offer something intangible. A freedom from the life that bound her only to the surface. 

He hears the click of those shoes she wears on the wood, vibrating into the dark water and signalling him in the night. A siren’s call already and she’s still wearing legs.

Her hair glows in the moonlight when he finally breaks the surface with barely a ripple. He can’t resist playing, sneaking up on her as he flicks his tail and moves closer. Her silhouette is…different. Is she smaller? Can humans shrink? He didn’t think so but Merfolk can change at will so why can’t humans do the same in some way? They change as they age, he remembers, and he tries to think of how long he’s been gone in human years. The time is strange. 

He floats a little closer, just enough that he can almost make out the different hairstyle that accompanies the shift in her, and he calls out in the grating human speech. “Miss me?” 

She turns quickly, eyes skimming the horizon behind before finally looking down for the voice. He reels back, tail flicking in agitation and fear that he tries to hide. “You’re not Akane.” 

They look like her, similar in features but sharper. Less happy. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like this male version of her. Akane the human was bright like the sun or the coral in the reef that the fish liked to hide in. This person felt more like the moon. A pale reflection of the warmth he sought. 

“So you’re the reason she kept coming here,” they say. Their voice is lower than hers, smoother. “I knew she had a secret but I didn’t think… you’re not human, are you?”

He sneers at the stranger, sharp teeth displayed in warning. “Where is she?”

“Dead.”

He sinks for a moment in shock. Dead? She can’t be dead. He has his magic. He was going to bring her with him finally. She can’t- “Lies!” he hisses. 

They sit down on the wooden platform, heels removed and tucked into the side as they dip their feet into his water. He moves to see them clearer and one side of their face glistenes with the fresh skin of a scar. “There was a fire. She didn’t…” they cut themselves off. “She wanted to bring me here before and I always said no. I…I should have-”

“Fire?” The concept is strange to him. There is no such thing in the water, not outside of the volcanoes and eruptions that sometimes quake under, sprouting heat and pain if one gets too close. 

“Yeah,” the familiar stranger nods. He does not elaborate.

“How do I know it’s not a trick? I will pay for her return.” Humans like gold and shiny things, don’t they? Kokonoi can travel and dig up a treasure for her. 

“I would pay anything for her return,” the stranger says looking towards the moon. Kokonoi pauses. They are pretty, like Akane but different. As the moon is different from the sun. He decides he likes the sharpness of their jaw and the apathy in their eyes. He is stunned by the desire to see if he feels as soft as he looks or if Kokonoi will cut himself on the jagged edges he sees. Akane was bright and soft and kind. Kokonoi was prepared to fight for her in the deep, to keep her safe. He senses that this one would fight himself.

“Who are you?” he finally asks, pushing himself up to rest his arms on the dock and staring at him. He reaches out a long finger, careful with his claw as he touches the leg in the water. 

“Seishu.” The name is as familiar as an old current. “I’m her brother.” 

Brother. Another name for a hatchling. He remembers she said she had one in an old conversation when they first met. He had been intrigued by the figure sitting on the dock, much like Seishu sits tonight. “Koko,” he offers, pointing to himself. It’s the easier version of a name a human can pronounce. One Akane gifted him. 

“Koko…” 

The way he says his name makes him shiver, his spines flickering out. He reaches, trailing his claw over their skin. He’s tempted to make him bleed but Koko does not want competition in this moment, no matter how much he wants to taste. He drags his claw under Seishu’s foot, eyes flashing with pleasure at the way they flinch. 

“What are you?” Koko asks, looking up at her brother. “Akane said she was female. Are you?”

“What? No. I’m her brother. That means I’m male.”

He thinks about it and shrugs. Gender has no meaning, not really, not to a Mer who can change theirs on a whim. If he needs, he can adjust to suit them and the future he’s suddenly thinking of. He grieves for Akane, for his sun, but the moon controls the tides and Kokonoi is finding himself swept up in the current that Seishu pulls him to. 

Kokonoi hums softly, letting the sound verberate through the air. He could drag him down easily, but Kokonoi likes to take his time. He wants Seishu’s curiosity. He wants to be desired back. He is not lacking in courtships but there have been none that caught his interest until Akane. Until Seishu. “I’ll return. You wait.”

“You want me to wait for you?” 

Kokonoi nods. “I won’t be long this time. Next night.” 

Seishu looks at him before he nods. “Okay, I’ll come back. For Akane.”

“For you,” Kokonoi demands. 

He looks out at the horizon, at the moon that shines and is reflected by the water. “Akane loved coming here, thought is was an escape. Used to joke about not coming back.”

A promise Kokonoi made to her that she left unfulfilled. Promises were binding to beings like the Mer and the witches in the deep. He gives into the urge and licks the skin of the leg in the water. It makes Seishu yelp which causes Kokonoi to laugh. 

“You’re not going to eat me, are you?” he asks, leaning away now carefully. He looks ready to run. 

Koko shoves himself up higher, using his tail and his arms to heave himself for moment onto the wooden platform he sits on. It isn’t easy, but he’s strong. Seishu stares in awe at the dark colours of his tail and the white spines on his fins. Kokonoi flicks it, splashing him. 

The brother glares at him before flicking the water back. He grins at it, and the way Seishu’s eyes take in the differences between them. His gaze continues to linger on his tail and his hair and Kokonoi wants to preen in response.  

Koko leans closer. He needs to go back into the water but he wants to taste more. He wonders if Seishu will let him. He lets out a series of clicks, trilling slightly to lure him closer. It works because the human moves in without thinking and Koko is granted the chance to press his lips against his and nip, tasting blood. It’s sweet, but he thinks he prefers the taste of the man himself when he manages to lick inside his mouth. It stuns Seishu enough that Kokonoi can taste a little more, tongue moving against his gently, before he’s forced to jump into the water to breathe.

Seishu is in shock, staring down at the Mer who lowers himself further into the water. He can’t resist grinning at the moon above him, waiting for the response.

“You…kissed me.”

Kokonoi nods. “A human thing but enjoyable. You’re fragile though. Don’t want to break you.” There’s no revulsion that he can see in the human’s expression and it confirms his desire. It’s not only him. Not completely. 

Seishu touches his own mouth. “Are you allowed to do that?”

Kokonoi shrugs. “Why not?” he sticks out his tongue at the human and watches with pleasure as the human looks at it. “Do you have a clutch waiting for you? Your home?” he elaborates when he sees the confusion on his face.

“What? Oh…no. My parents died with Akane. It’s just me now.”

He grins, teeth flashing in the light. “The next night,” Kokonoi says. “Meet here. I had something for Akane but you…you will take it.”     

“I will?”

“Yes. Then her promise will be held.” 

“She made you a promise?” 

Kokonoi grins. “One made in blood. It will be worth the wait,” he says, more to himself than Seishu. “It’s a…gift,” he says, thinking of the closest proper human word. 

“Okay,” he nods. “Tomorrow night. Not like I have anything else waiting for me.” 

Kokonoi is not supposed to hear the last part but he does. “Next night, my moon.” He leaves before Seishu can question the term, swimming into the deep water. He has adjustments to make. Seishu’s taste is etched into his memory and he needs to add it to the magic that he’s paid for. He needs to adjust the home he’s created for a larger Mer than planned and more fortifications. Seishu, he knows, is going to be beautiful in the water. The moon belongs to the ocean and this one belongs to Kokonoi. He’ll make sure of it. 

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[sidhewrites]

24! Here we go! Don't talk to me about pacing it's fine everything's fine

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Terror and confusion erase all other thoughts as my muscles work my limbs into order. I feel my body sit upright, my joints popping strangely. And in my head, something cold and oily seeps in, filling up the gaps in my consciousness and settling in like a new roommate.

Hello, it seems to say. I could get used to this.

Nausea crawled up my throat, and I heaved again, more bile dribbling down my chin. Again, my mouth moved on its own, someone else using my voice for their words. "Sorry, my dear," they said. "This has been nice, but I've got something to do." I feel my muscles extend and contract, pushing my body up from the bench. It's uncoordinated and awkward. My knees still hurt from my gardening two days ago, but my joints feel cold now. My bones are wrong. I don't know how to describe it. I've suddenly been pushed into the passenger seat of my own body, my mind occupying a space in my head that I'm not used to, watching someone else take control and learn the controls.

Lucy follows me as I go, brows furrowed. "Kaz? Is something wrong?" 

I don't miss that hint of hurt in her voice, and I try to open my mouth and tell her that something's wrong, but it doesn't work. My head swivels towards her, but my smile comes out all wrong. It doesn't meet my eyes. It's unkind. "It's been lovely. But I best be going."

She stops for a moment, watching me go. I think -- I hope she realizes what's going on. I don't know what's happening, but it isn't me. Those words aren't mine.

"Kaz...?"

[Somehow magnus tells lucy the plan. I'm going to the mine. I deserve some quiet after all this. Thank goodness kaz so kindly gave me a direct path to her soul.]

She reaches out, grabs my arm. For a moment, her hand is solid, holding on to me, stopping my body in its tracks. But whatever tether is keeping her in this world fades, and her hand slips right through me, sending a bolt of dread shooting down my spine.

It's enough to shake Magnus's control on my body. I stumble, hands waving, and I let out a curse all my own. "Shit Christ." I hiss, landing hard on the ground and no doubt skinning my knee under my pants all over again. But I have to act fast -- I need to do -- something.

"Get Josie," I choke out, before Magnus wraps himself around my consciousness once more. Lucy watches me for a moment, wringing her hands, before Magnus turns my head away from the light and towards the darkest parts of the graveyard.

I can do nothing but watch as he carries me out to the historical quarter, pausing a moment to look at his grave. "It's a lovely job you did, dear Kaz," he says with a satisfied grin. "The roses are so well-kept now, aren't they? A shame you won't be able to tend to them again." He shrugs, and turns towards the mine

I want to beg him to stop, but I can't work my jaw, and my thoughts are jumbled in fear. He seems to get the idea, however, and lets out a low chuckle that rumbles in my chest. His next words come to me as his own thoughts, leaking through from his mind into mine, and I understand what he wants to do.

There's no escaping the noise of a modern world. The lights, the people -- they're ever present, and they'll only get worse. But he knows where he can go to avoid it all. Abandoned, silent, quiet.

I feel his satisfaction, an oily smugness floating around in my head. I feel him planning in there, plotting out the fastest route to the mine's entry. Through a hole in the fence, down a walking trail in the woods, to the first of many mine entrances blocked off by heavy gates. I've never thought to wrench one open, but the iron is decades old and poorly maintained. Rust has eaten away at the bars, leaving it a sharp, tetanus-filled portal into darkness.

Stop, I want to scream, but he doesn't. He puts my hands on the bars, slicing the skin open, and begins to pull. My muscles burn with the effort, and he laughs.

"It's been a while since I've felt the strain of physical effort," he says. "It feels good." When my grip slips, a piece of iron slices my hand open, and he laughs, thrilled at the novelty of pain. "Look at that," he says, admiring the rust and blood staining my hand red. "I'm bleeding again. I didn't realize how much I missed this." Magnus lets out one more laugh, and sets at the bars again.

It takes time. I hear footsteps in the distance, leaves crunching underfoot. In a panic, he shoves himself at the bars, trying to press my body in the space between them, but it does nothing but shake rust off the metal and into my lungs. No matter how much control Magnus has over my body, he can't stop me from bending over double and coughing, red-tinged spit now dripping from my mouth.

I feel his frustration growing like a flame in the middle of my forehead.

The metal screams into the night as he manages to bend it back, pulling the bar away just enough to worm his way inside. The dim light barely makes it ten feet past the gate. Magnus stumbles over the first uneven crack in the stone ground, just as Lucy winds up in front of the gate, peering in. She reaches out, maybe thinking to phase right through the iron, but her hand stops the second it reaches a bar.

"This is...new," she says, frowning. But even if she's become corporeal in the past few hours, she has barely any strength beside it. Her hand slips right through the metal with the slightest bit of pressure as Josie steps in beside her, sizing up the damage I had already done.

"Hold on, Kaz. We're coming."

"Don't bother," Magnus hisses, and moves further into the shadows, nearly tripping over another unseen rock. "Damnation. I need something to see."

My mind goes unbidden to the phone in my pocket, and Magnus latches onto the thought before I can suppress it. He may not fully understand what the device is, but he's smart enough to pull it out and feel for the buttons.

With a single click, the screen lights up -- informing us that it's 12:53 in the morning, and that I have three notifications waiting to be read. Magnus spares a single, "Fascinating," before flipping the phone around and using the screen's meager light to show us what's up ahead. A long stone corridor stretches out into the blackness, lichen and moss growing on the walls. Rotting wooden support beams break up the monotonous stone walls, but I don't trust their structural integrity.

Magus doesn't seem to care. When my phone times out and the screen goes dark, he clicks the button again, and starts to run, leaving Lucy and Josie far behind.

I hear their voices echoing along the stone, getting smaller. "We're coming!" they promise. I try my best to believe.

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[forrestfanfics]

So This is Love || Age of Ultron 12: “Neoma's Debut ”

“So This is Love” Masterlist

Previous Chapter  ||   Next Chapter (Civil War)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The sight of the Helicarrier made me forget about my numbing body. A glimmer of hope arose within me, and I forgot about their previous plan to blow themselves up. 

All that mattered now was getting these civilians to safety. 

"This way! Careful!"

Family after family ran past me as my eyes frantically scanned the area. But the panic in me kept me from tracking how many people I'd let in.

We couldn't leave anyone behind.

Not one.

When a lifeboat was filled, we guide them to the next and so on.

"Neoma, status update."

I tapped my visor. "So far, we're in the clear," I responded to my dad.

"Roger-... Crap."

Comms went static.

"Stark senior?" I paused.

"Dad?"

Nothing.

Then suddenly, a loud explosion sounded off and everyone around me started panicking.

The town square quickly turned into pandemonium.

I turned to the source of the blast and spotted my dad zooming into the sky towards a falling lifeboat.

One of its thrusters had been taken out by a mini Ultron.

Iron Man closed in on the boat, ready to catch it, when an Ultron bot cut him off, tackling him away.

"Fuck!"

On instinct, I ran for the edge of the floating island and threw my arms back, launching myself up into the air and to the boat.

The wind roaring in my ears couldn't drown out the screams of the passengers.

When I got close enough, I put my arms out to my sides and pushed, forming the same bubble I always had. Letting out a whine, I tried to push further, managing to catch half the boat with the other half still dangling out.

It was starting to hurt. My arms were shaking as I forced myself to keep going, keeping the bubble as stable as I possibly could.

The frazzled screams of the passengers were the only thing keeping me from dropping the boat.

I felt like I was choking on air.

But, I wasn't done yet. Half the ship was still weighing me down, and I had to keep going, keep pushing.

I let out a strained yell, pushing the bubble to grow bigger and bigger until it enclosed the entire boat, keeping it completely stable while I waited for my dad to get back up on his feet.

It was pure torture. My brain was growing fuzzy, and I could taste the blood dripping from my nose and onto my tongue.

I might as well have been shot in the spine at this point.

I wanted to let go.

I wanted to give up and end my suffering.

This pain... It made me want to die.

"Jesus Christ!"

I was too far gone to focus on the voices coming from comms. All I could hear was my own heavy breathing and the sudden silence from the boat I had within my bubble.

"Hang on just a little longer, Peanut!"

I cried out in pure agony as my body started to burn up.

"Let go, Neoma!"

Without any hesitation, I dropped my arms and allowed myself to fall.

In the corner of my eye —and through small gaps in my hair—, my dad had caught the boat right as the bubble dispersed.

My vision darkened while I continued to fall.

●    ◉    ◎    ◈    ◎    ��    ●

"Come on, kid, wake up. Dammit!"

My ears twitched as the echoey sound of Steve's voice stirred me awake.

I rapidly blinked my eyes open, only to squeeze them shut at the bright beam of sunlight.

Someone took my visor off.

My whole suit had been retracted into the silver slip around my neck.

I couldn't feel my arms and legs, and the metallic taste of blood was still present on my tongue.

"Hey. There you are," Steve put a hand on my cheek soothingly. "It's okay, kid. Relax."

"Everything hurts," I managed to murmur under my breath.

"I know, I know."

"Am I... dead?" I felt like the more I spoke, the quieter my voice got.

"We're on a lifeboat, Y/N. Everyone got off safely. Most of them because of you. You're a lifesaver, kid."

I get that he was trying to make me feel better, but I wasn't absorbing his words in that state. I couldn't even open my eyes properly. I don't think I could even breathe.

"Where's... Dad?" I asked.

"He's... Well-"

A huge blast shook the boat for a moment as if on cue.

My eyes snapped open, and I started breathing heavily, hyperventilating from exhaustion and panic as I tried to sit up in vain.

"Hey, hey, hey! Stay down! Your vitals are beyond abnormal!"

His words were white noise to me as I continued to panic, trying to push myself up off the floor.

From the corner of my eye, I could see the edge of the boat where smoke and the debris of the demolished island came raining down. Into the ocean below us most likely.

I panted and finally got myself up, stumbling and losing balance as my knees shook and trembled. I frantically searched the skies for any sign of my father or Thor flying around.

With shaky hands, I quickly reached into my pocket and found my visor, putting it on and scanning the area.

I tried comms, but I couldn't hear anyone.

I tried to move closer to the edge to jump off, but Steve's hand got hold of my arms, effortlessly picking me up and moving us away from the edge. "You push yourself any further, you're down."

He totally meant death...

I was completely useless at this point.

I was just some kid in her pyjamas and a visor, too weak to stand on her own.

It was suddenly quiet and I started to relax, allowing my eyes to close and my body to relax as Steve kept me in his arms like I was a child again.

"Hey, Peanut."

My eyes snapped open and I reached up to tap my visor. "Dad?"

"Good work out there."

"Wow..." I sighed, relieved to hear his voice.

"You played a big part in our victory today, Y/N. I'm proud of you. I'll see you on the ground."

Comms clicked off.

Finally.

I made my dad proud.

"Wait..." I mutter and look up at Steve.

"You won?" I asked.

The man smiled down at me, adjusting his arms to keep me from falling.

"We did, Neoma."

We did.

We won.

I'm part of the team.

The moment the lifeboat landed on the Helicarrier, I fell from Steve's arms and ran to my dad, colliding with him in a hug.

I hissed when I crashed into his metal suit, causing him to laugh. "I can't believe that's the stupidest thing you did today."

"That was so cool," I tilted my head up.

His metal hand gently patted my back. 

After my outburst, my adrenaline faded and I felt my body shaking again. "I'm gonna pass out now."

●    ◉    ◎    ◈    ◎    ◉    ●

"I'll carry you back."

"Okay." With that, I let myself go.

I was forced to stay in a hospital for a few weeks to recover and was so graciously visited by my dad every once in a blue moon with a tub of ice cream and a tail of paparazzi.

I don't know what exactly he used as an excuse to explain the fact that his daughter just so happened to be hospitalised right after the Avengers were in a battle in Sokovia.

But I believe that he told them that I downed a bottle of bleach after I walked in on... Something.

"Sure are a lot of trees," I commented with a soft giggle, looking down at the holographic image of the new Avengers compound from my hospital bed, the cookie dough ice cream tub sitting on my lap.

"Isn't that what you wanted, Rapunzel?"

"This isn't exactly a cozy little house but you got the prairie part down," I shook my head, handing him back the tablet and picking up the tub to stuff cookie dough into my mouth.

"There's just no satisfying you, is there?" My dad sighed teasingly as he tapped away at the tablet.

"Oh, I'm pretty satisfied. I think the only thing left is for me to go to school," I shrugged.

"Yeah?" My dad spared a glance. "MIT, right?"

"Yeah. Just like you."

"Well, my dad did get me an interview there... And since you're just like me..." He trailed off.

I jumped in excitement and practically screamed. "You got me an interview at MIT?!" My dad quickly reached out to catch the ice cream tub that I threw into the air at my sudden outburst. "... Sorry."

He sighed and shook his head, putting the tub on the nightstand next to my bed.

"I'm not comfortable with you staying in Massachusetts, so we'll try to come up with a compromise for the commute."

"Holy shit! Dad, you're the best!" I laughed excitedly, making sure to keep my excitement better contained this time.

"I've been waiting my whole life to hear those words."

I purse my lips, smiling as I nervously fiddle with my fingers.

"What?" My dad put the tablet down, noticing my antics.

"Did I... Was I..." I pause, gathering my thoughts to form into words. "Did I do good in Sokovia?"

He sighed and sat on the edge of my bed, reaching up to gently run his fingers through my hair, his voice shifting into something softer.

"You were beyond exceptional, Peanut. I can't express how proud I am of you. Albeit, I was scared to death, and you have a very inconvenient weakness... But... You proved yourself to be strong enough to handle it."

"Thank you for this," I mumbled, smiling genuinely. No hint of mischief or mockery. Just absolute sincerity and gratitude.

"What?" He asked.

"Putting up with me. And for letting me do this," I leaned forward, doing little grabby hands.

My dad scooted forward to wrap his arms around me, kissing the top of my head. "If I'm being honest, your persistence and stubbornness are your best qualities. Especially as a future Avenger."

I pulled away and looked up into his eyes with pure disbelief. "Holy shit-"

"Don't swear."

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" I exclaimed, jumping in excitement in my spot on the bed. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

My dad sighed. "Not yet. You're still very new to this. But with the proper training-"

"I will not let you down, Dad!" I jumped with my arms in the air before lunging forward for another hug. "Thank you."

"Welcome to the team, Neoma."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[loveswrites]

Always (Lo'ak X reader)

Lo'ak x reader

Just a little something I made for my friend. Hope you like it!

"I think it's hot that I'm dating a cougar." Lo'ak started making you pause. 

"Wai-wait what? Where did you learn that word? And first of all, I'm not a cougar. I'm just one year older than you, meaning that I have more wisdom than you. So that makes me the smart one." You said as a matter of fact playfully pushing his shoulders.

"Wisdom? Are you calling me stupid?" He said, shifting his eyes towards you, raising an eyebrow.

"If the shoe fits." You replied not making eye contact.

Continuing your midnight stroll that Lo'ak decided he wanted to take you on, You two fell into a calm silence. All that could be heard were the soft crashes of the waves of the Island. Soft breathing and the sound of your feet pitter patting on the sand. You felt Lo'ak's eyes on you. Scanning up and down your body. You wondered why he was staring at you. Sure he can look, but he was straight up staring. Not taking his beautiful, adoring eyes off you. 

You dared not to look. 

It made you nervous. He made you nervous. But in a good way, a type of nervousness that you would go through a thousand times over just to stand by his side. You’ve always felt something for him ever since you laid eyes on him. Even though you guys are dating neither of you have spoken the “3 Words Eight letters” thing to each other yet.

Though you wish to hear them, you're kinda scared. In fact you dread the day. You’ve heard that saying those words brings a relationship down hill and straight to hell in a burning roller coaster.  

And that’s not what you needed right now, That’s not what you wanted. You wanted something forever with Lo’ak and you wouldn’t ruin it by just saying 3 words that would cost you everything you’ve ever cared about. You asked your mother Ronal what you should do about these feelings, that you’ve had pent up and stuck in your heart for as long as you could remember. But the fact that she doesn't even truly like Lo'ak wasn’t much help to you. 

She says “He's nothing but a disgrace, A trouble maker. You should not involve yourself too deeply with him. These feelings that you say you have for him are just made up in your mind. They. Do. Not. Matter.”

Those words that she said repeated in your head for days. 

They. Do. Not. Matter. 

So that’s what you kept telling yourself. You and your mom had that conversion a few weeks ago and ever since then you’ve been pushing Lo’ak away. Putting some distance between you and the problem your mom said it helps. Sometimes you think that she was wrong, especially when you went from spending everyday with Lo’ak to 4 times a week, to once a week, and then some weeks none. Every Time you saw his face around the Island you'd turn the other way. If you heard his voice you’d tune it out.

 Just when you thought it was beginning to be easy to be away from him or more like hide from him, it didn’t matter which. He started popping up everywhere like a Jack in the box as the humans say.. I think. Mom doesn’t tell me much about them. Only that they are horrible creatures and to stay away from them. I’m sure that’s what they tell their children about us as well. 

To stay away from them. 

Stay away from them.

Stay away from him.

I’d say it would be easy to do if it wasn’t him. 

“Sa’nara?” You heard not acknowledging it at first still stuck in your thoughts. 

“Sa’nara?..” Nothing.

Lo’ak furrowed his eyebrows. You weren’t answering him which only made him feel worse. He felt like you two were slowly drifting away. He felt like you were leaving him and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. The harder he fought the further you’d float away. He always told you he’d never leave you but he  soon realized that you never made the same promise. You would say that you’d always care for him, and that’s not the same.

That’s not enough.

That was a bare promise. 

A promise that you could easily reverse and he wanted more than that with you. He always has.  Late nights when he couldn’t sleep he’d always go lay in the sand and admire the skys thinking of you. That’s all he’d ever think about. You.

Never feeling like he was truly meant to be here, a part of the clan. Like he was always in the way or that no one wanted him here.

He would think about getting out of here, leaving the clan and starting somewhere new. He noticed that he never saw himself leaving by himself though. You were always with him by his side ready to take on wherever was thrown at the two of you, ready to back him up like he was for you. 

Lo’ak never felt that way with you though. He felt.. Loved. 

He felt accepted, wanted. He felt that the feelings he felt for you were always being reciprocated and he would never have to question if he was enough.

But lately with how distant you've become, Lo’ak started to question if he was enough for you. If you even wanted him. That made him nervous.. No.

Scared.

He feared a life without you. You’ve always been there for him. Through his rants of insecurity that he had that he would never admit to anyone but him. Through his anger, his sadness, his happiness, his pain, his everything. And that’s what you were to him. 

His everything. 

You were his, And he was going to keep it that way.

Determination flooding through his veins he turned and grabbed your arm in a firm but not enough to hurt grip. Turning you to face him he watched you. 

“Sa’nara.” He said looking at you with very serious stern eyes. As if to say you can’t keep running away from me. 

This only made you even more nervous. Doing your best not to show it though you stood tall. Your mother always told you to stand tall no matter what.

“ Lo’ak.” You said, pulling your arm away from his grip. His touch made you feel weak. And weak was not what you needed right now. You needed to stand strong. To be strong. 

“Why have you been avoiding me?” He questioned.

“I’m sorry? What do you mean?” You said trying to act innocent and confused. 

“Don’t I'm sorry me! Tell me why you’ve been dodging me, Everytime I see you I only catch a glimpse before you turn around and run away!” lo’ak practically screamed, throwing his hands in the air showing his frustration.

“I run from no one.” You frowned.

“So we're lying to each other now? God, you're driving me crazy!” He drug his hands down his face now pacing the sand. 

“Why did you even invite me here?” You questioned, watching as his pacing paused. Your question tugged at a string of his heart, that made him feel like the whole foundation of it was going to break and fall apart at any moment now. If he made the wrong move it would all come crashing down. He tilted his head as his eyes widely searched your face for any type of emotion. All he found was the soldier your mother built as he called it. 

“You don’t want me anymore.” lo’ak said, standing tall looking down at you with sad eyes. Eyes that he only has reserved for you.

“I didn’t say tha-” 

“You don’t have to say it! You don’t have to say anything! I see it on your face, you don’t look at me the way you used to look at me with so much.. So much..”

“ So much what Lo’ak!” You stated, growing a little irritated.

“Love! Okay?! You used to look at me with so much love! So much love that I could feel it, I could feel it through those beautiful doe eyes of yours. I could see it! The way you used to talk to me with your heart stopping voice that I could hear it! The way you used to touch me-” Lo’ak’s voice cracked and he walked closer to you grabbing your cheek to look up at him and wrapping his other arm around your waist pulling you into him so softly, tenderly. Like if he were to hold you, grab you any tighter or rougher you'd wither away and you'd be gone forever. 

“You used to touch me so softly, so full of love, every time you touched me my heart would explode into a million pieces but at the same time your touch made me whole again babygirl. Your love was and is the only thing worth living for. I love you so much. I wished you’d understand that and stop pushing me away. I Love you. And I’d never leave you or hurt you. I’d protect you with my life because you are worth more than I'll ever be. You mean more to me than I'll ever mean to anyone or myself.” 

By this time you were crying tear after tear rolling down your face. They never made it past your nose because he was there to wipe them away. He was always there for you. To wipe your tears away, To kiss them away, To help you laugh them away. The point being he never left your side until you left his. 

Just like he promised.

“Do you really mean that?” You asked, looking up at him running your hands up his chest. This is the furthest you two have gotten to saying I love you and you just hoped that he wasn’t joking, and that everything he was saying was true. Because if it wasn’t you don’t think that you’d ever recover.

“You know I mean it.. I don’t get all hearted eyes for nothing. I love you. And I want you by my side, always.”

“I-I love you t-” You started but got cut off feeling soft warm lips placed on top of yours. Immediately you relaxed in his arms. Wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him down closer to you, you deepened the kiss. Feeling like you were finally home. That you were finally whole again. You felt his tail trail up and down your leg, making you giggle into the kiss and pull away. After what seemed like an eternity of staring into each other's eyes you were the first to speak.

“Always?” 

“Always.”

And with that you both sealed your fate with one simple word alongside with 3 other ones. That no matter what, through thick and thin. 

The two of you would always be One.

[oathofpromises]

“Neither of us are perfect but, together, it feels like we’re a little better.” - Data and Hiroto

As the white-haired man felt his thoughts drift to bygone days, fiery red hues flickered out towards the setting sun. The viper shook his head, pausing to admire the top of the Ala Mhigan royal palace. There were red flowers everywhere, and one could see the entire landscape around them. Hiroto hadn't seen much of the area, so data suggested they travel to the various cities so the viper could see everything. 

Hiroto gave the sky a sidelong glance as his hawk floated closer to him while carrying a letter that was fastened to a small pocket on the bird's leg. The viper let out a long sigh. Whatever it was asking would almost certainly result in Hiroto disappearing for a few days, and the last time he was gone for a few days, it had all but worried Data. As he unrolled the paper, he attentively read the contents aloud to himself.

'Hiroto. You haven't gotten back to us in a while. You have fallen behind on your assignments. There will be severe consequences if we do not receive a reminder of the debt.'

It was, of course, a threat. They had all but sent various threats since the viper announced he would no longer be working for that company. They falsely claimed that he still owed them money. He had given them more money than was necessary to pay off what was owed to them. His father would have been ashamed of those Vipers if he could have seen how far they had fallen. Then, again, his father would probably despise Hiroto's behavior for years, but did he really have a choice? Either do things their way or be tortured and left to starve for days on end. Either way, the outcome was the same.

Data deserved someone far better than him, not a snake like himself who had committed so much sin that it would seem nearly impossible to atone for all the wrong he had done. Hiroto paused as he felt arms wrap around him from behind. Turning his head slightly, he could see the spiky brunet hair. A tender smile formed across his lips as he turned to fully face Data.

'There you are... I turned my back for one moment, and you were gone.' muttered the Sage as he buried his face into Hiroto's chest. Gently, the taller Miqo'te ran his fingers through the soft brown locks of the other.

"I apologize; I got a little distracted. You know how my past likes to resurface and haunt me. A part of me worries that I can never fully deserve your love..the type of man that deserves to have you in my life."

Hiroto was taken aback when he felt Data lean in closer to him and press his lips against his own. The brunet had never been one to hide his feelings; he was always quite obvious, but every time he took the lead, it left the Viper feeling a little out of breath.

'Hiro...Neither of us are perfect but, together, it feels like we’re a little better.You think that you aren't perfect...yet I never asked you to be. You see me..more than anyone else ever has.'

It's true; Hiroto had witnessed a side of Data the Warrior of Light kept hidden from everyone else. Not even to Hikari, his younger sister. However, Hiroto could understand keeping things away from his younger sibling. It was just their way of keeping them safe, and it was also because they had the impression that it would only add to the weight that someone else was already carrying.

Gently, Hiroto cradled Data in his arms, his heart racing with anticipation. Drawing closer, he leaned in, their lips meeting again in a passionate embrace. As the gentle breeze caressed their cheeks, flower petals pirouetted in the air, creating a whimsical dance around their entwined figures.

"I love you," Hiroto murmured, his breath caressing Data's skin as he pressed their bodies closer together, savoring the sweet intimacy they shared. They simply didn't have the luxury of being as greedy as they pleased with one another. Duty called, and it was just something Hiroto had gotten used to. That didn't mean that he didn't want Data to feel loved and cared for. To give the brunet his heart and soul.

Which was such a scary concept to think about, thinking back on how the two of them first met. The way the sage had been cautious around him. The other had good reason, though, Hiroto ended up hurting Stella, someone who had a close connection to Data. If there was one thing Hiroto wishes he could go back and redo, it was showing Data more of who he was at the start, but the brunet never blamed him for keeping parts of his past a secret. He listened and cared, which was a lot more than anyone had ever done for the viper.

Tenderly, the white-haired male cupped the others faces, gently thumbing the sides of Data's face as he pressed his forehead against the smaller Miqo'to. Taking a deep breath, Hiroto tried to find the words to describe how he was feeling. It wasn't like talking about emotions was easier for the viper. He had gone years without closing off anything he felt to protect his own heart.

"For the longest time, I wanted to put a distance between us—not because I didn't care for you quite the opposite. I feared that if you got close and saw the type of person I was and the things that I had done, it would scare you away. You know about the man who broke my heart. I closed my heart off to love for so long because of it, but being with you makes me happier than I ever have been. You don't see me as just being Stella's older brother; you saw something deeper, and I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay that kindness. I just love you so much. It scares me sometimes at how quickly you worked your way into my heart."

Data wasn't like anyone else; Hiroto wanted to cherish the time they had. In fact, it had surprised the viper that he didn't crave more intimate moments with the brunet. He wanted Data to be the one to ask for such things, which was new to Hiroto, a man who would sleep with various people just to feel another warmth, but being with Data was vastly different. He wanted to savor each second with the other, to show that he truly was in it and that it wasn't just a fling.

"At every turn, you caused me to question everything I had told myself for years. I truly believed that the more I cared for someone, the greater the risk they would pose to me, but the truth is, you are the one I chose. Even if it's selfish and there are tons of other people better suited to be with you, I just can't give up. Call me  selfish but I want what we have: to spend time by your side for as long as you will have me."

Hiroto burned for Data in many ways. The white-haired male just hoped that the brunet would stay; if he ever lost Data, that would shatter his heart beyond repair.

I never want this feeling to go away...

The two men smiled as their noses gently brushed against each other. Before Hiroto leaned down, still holding Data close, he felt the brunet wrap his legs around his waist. A sly smirk slowly formed across the Viper's face before he picked up a rose, twirling it around his hand before placing it in Data's hair.

"Beautiful..."

You are sunlight, and I am merely a shadow, yet despite all that, you still love someone like me.

[portaltothevoid]

For Whom the Bell Tolls - Chapter 21 - A Forest

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OFC (Kat Ramsay), sequel to Foolin’

Summary: Eddie and Steve have a heart to heart on the way to Nancy’s. The group faces a new threat.

Warnings: None that I can think of?

Word count: 1.8k

Chapter song: A Forest by The Cure

Tag list: @munchabunch​ @madaboutmunson​​ @earl-greater

Thunderstorms were usually comforting. The low rumbles or sudden cracks, the lightning that would fork across the sky or illuminate everything in this almost lavender glow. Here though? In this other world? In the Upside Down? It did nothing, but caused an uneasy feeling to settle around Kat. It was constant.

Everything was muted and abysmal. These snowflakes, or whatever they were, constantly floating through the air like ash from nuclear fallout. Blood red skies above only glowing a deeper red which each flash of lightning in the clouds overhead. Robin and Nancy had wandered ahead, set on a path of determination. Eddie and Steve had fallen to the back of the pack, while Kat just kept to herself. Her arms crossed, she tried to keep pulling them as close to her body as she could in order to self-soothe.  

She knew the others couldn’t pick up on what she was feeling, and while she wasn’t sure how, she knew they were being watched. Not just her, every single one of them walking through that forest. The vines acted like feelers or warning signals. That wasn’t what was keeping an eye on them, keeping track of them. It was something else entirely. 

With each step forward the only thing Kat could focus on was her breathing. She hated how scared she felt. She had lost years of her life training for something like this. There was a time when she would have immediately gone on the hunt for Vecna and taken her shot at him. This time, in her current state, she felt like nothing more than a coward. Terrified of what lies beyond the next corner, scared of what could be lurking in the trees surrounding them, frightened at the thought that not everyone would make it out of this ordeal alive. She was the one with the power. Her responsibility was to save those around her. Given the track record of Vecna: 3 and Kat: 0, her confidence was definitely waning. 

The feeling in the pit of her stomach felt like the moment before you dropped on a roller coaster, only it was constant. She didn’t even feel the dampness of her clothes, but instead was weighed down by dread. Her feet kept following the girls in front of her. Always having them in her sight reminded her to just move forward, because if she didn’t, she was ten seconds to spiraling.

Steve breaking the silence to talk with Eddie helped Kat to focus on something else besides the doom and gloom that was encapsulating her.

“Eddie. Hey, man, uh… Listen, I just, uh…” he sputtered. “I just want to say thanks for saving my ass back there.”

“Shit. You saved your own ass, man. I mean, that was a real Ozzy move you pulled back there,” Eddie said sincerely. Kat couldn’t help, but crack a small smile at Eddie’s reference. Meanwhile, he was shocked at Steve’s gratitude. These past few days have been shocking for him. The people that Hawkins had put on a pedestal, like Chrissy, like Steve, were turning out to be quite the opposite from their supposed “popular” stereotypes.

“Ozzy?” Steve asked, clearly not knowing what Eddie was referring to.

“When you took a bite out of that bat,” Eddie paused when he was met with a blank look from Steve. “Ozzy Osbourne? Black Sabbath? He bit a bat’s head off on stage.”

“I don’t–”

“You know?”

“No.”

“Doesn’t  matter. It was very metal, what you did. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, unsure of how to take this compliment from Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson.

“Henderson told me you were a badass. Insisted on the matter, in fact.”

“Wait, Henderson said that?” Steve clarified, surprised now by this sudden confession.

“Oh, yeah. Shit. Kid worships you, dude. Like, you have no idea. It’s kinda annoying, to be honest. I don’t even know why I care what that little shrimp thinks, but, uh, guess I just got a little jealous, Steve. I guess I couldn’t accept the fact that Steve Harrington was actually… a good dude.” 

The words just came spilling out of Eddie and once he started, it was like he couldn’t stop. His words were nothing, but true. Henderson was one of his favorites in Hellfire Club. As soon as he spotted him, he saw a bit of himself in the kid, especially his brazen “I am who I am” attitude. Eddie never had a sibling. Hell, he barely had anyone to look up to when he was Dustin’s age. The only person he had to figure things out with was himself and as his reputation precedes him, he didn’t make a lot of good choices. If even just for a year, he could guide Dustin to stay true to himself, that’s what he was gonna do. He wanted to be that older brother figure for his younger friend, but with how much Dustin admired Steve, he always felt as if he was in Steve’s shadow. Steve’s comments and being there for Kat when he wasn’t, like at her birthday, ate him up inside. Not that he would ever show it. 

Jealousy always finds a way to creep in and make itself at home. Steve was the one with the leg up in the world while Eddie had to fight and claw his way for everything he had. He was sick of fighting, of feeling weak. So whenever he could, he was always jab back at Steve. And yet, over these past few days, he was able to see a kinder side to his unofficial archenemy. Steve was with Dustin the whole time helping and making sure not only Kat was safe, but him too. He wanted to protect him and clear his name as much as anyone in that group. The kindness and at some points selflessness, Eddie could do nothing, but respect that.

“Rich parents, popular, chicks love him. Not a douche?” Eddie continued. “No way, man. No way. That, like, flies in the face of all the laws in the universe and my own personal Munson doctrine,” he said as he put his hands over his heart. “And not to mention how you were there to help her,” he dropped his voice to a whisper and nodded in front of him to Kat, “with that whole birthday fiasco…”

Steve wasn’t all that used to compliments outside of his looks, so his only response was to bashfully crook his mouth up into a half smile. This awkward air fell over them and Eddie, trying to diffuse it, leaned in, invading Steve’s space a bit, as he said “Still super jealous as hell, by the way,” causing them both to snicker at the admission. “Which is why I never would have jumped in that lake to save your ass. Not under any… uh, normal circumstances.”

Suddenly a branch snapped. Everyone froze. Steve shone his flashlight in the direction of the sound. No one could see anything, but a distant growling could be heard. Kat slowly turned her head in the direction of the sound. Her hand instantly flew up to the back of her neck, feeling it covered in goosebumps. Whatever was watching them, was making itself known. She waited for Steve and Eddie to be a few steps behind her before she continued forward.

“Nope. Outside of D&D, I am no hero. I see danger and I just turn heel and run. Or at least that’s what I’ve learned about myself this week.” Flickers of shame tugged at Eddie’s voice. Kat frowned hearing him say that, knowing how he had saved her countless times. At this point, she couldn’t really help but share his sentiments with her own self-doubt.

“Give yourself a break, man,” Steve said as he slapped his hand across Eddie’s chest.

“See?” Eddie held up a hand to stop Steve. Kat slowly walked forward knowing they had stopped, but wanted to see where this was going. “The only reason I came in here was ‘cause those ladies came in straight after you. Even Kat. Granted I would have followed her anyway, but she’s not close to you like the other two. And yet, immediately she was taking off her jacket to dive in to rescue you, or some shit. Me? I was too ashamed to be the one who stayed behind. But Wheeler, right there, she didn’t waste a second. Not one second. She just dove right in. Now, I don’t know what happened between you two, but if I were you, I would get her back. ‘Cause that was as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen.” 

Steve processed what Eddie was telling him as he stared longly at Nancy as she carried on in front of him.

“He’s right, you know,” Kat chimed in, unable to resist any longer as she walked back towards them. “And I, for one, am speaking from experience. If this cynical guy, here…” she said tapping on his chest and cocking her head at Steve, “If anything were to ever happen to him? I’d send whoever hurt him into another alternate dimension. And you can’t tell me Nancy wouldn’t at least try to do the same for you.”

Eddie beamed down at Kat who returned the loving smile. Steve sighed and as he opened his mouth to say something, a loud snapping sound was heard from the woods. Closer than the first one they heard. Steve immediately shut his mouth, but opened it again to say “Wh-what was that?” as he shone his flashlight around their perimeter. 

“Robin. Nancy. Stop,” Kat commanded.

A low growling sound came from behind them. Kat put her hands out, herding the group behind her, shielding them. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing straight up. She knew whatever was watching them, whatever was following them, was only a few seconds away from making its move.

When I tell you guys to run, fucking run. No matter what. Just nod slowly if you understand. Kat said to the group using her telepathy. Everyone nodded, their eyes wide at what she was able to do. Everyone that is, except Eddie. Eddie, we don’t fucking have time for this. If I say run, you run. Reluctantly, he nodded once. Not that he was actually going to obey her. There’s no way he’d leave her to fend for herself. No way.

Quickly, an image of a house appeared in Kat’s mind. She could feel nothing but Nancy’s presence surrounding the image. Run to Nancy’s house. Don’t look back. She instructed and then turned her attention briefly towards Eddie, gaining his attention. I will meet you there.

The growling grew louder, then a sound like someone obnoxiously licking their lips was heard from behind the trees. Branches and dead leaves crunched under this thing’s feet. And then, it moved into full view. It was crouched on all fours. Its head opened like a flower, revealing trails of spit and rows upon rows of sharp teeth. A couple of the creature’s friends decided to join the soirée, popping out from behind nearby trees. Flanking at its heels. The supposed leader let out an ear piercing roar that was aimed directly at Kat.

previous chapter | next chapter

[ghostsoapgirl]

Loss of a Lifetime.

Oh god you’ll have to forgive me for this. Me and my twin @chiarizipperhead love the song Lifetime by three days grace. And they offhandedly mentioned if someone wrote a sad song to the fic they’d devour it.

A/N. I warn you. There is no comfort in this. I sobbed writing it. I’m still crying. It’s not long at all but. Here ya go. I’ll put a read more once I’m on a PC. This is not beta read lmao. I wrote it. Sobbed. Posted it.

Johnny tried to regain his composure. The world was spinning. His stomach was turning. He couldn’t breathe. He looked at Price and tried to sob out a please no but all that came out was a choked noise.

His knees hit the ground before he could think about what was happening. Ghost was gone.

Simon. His Simon.

He didn’t know how much time passed before price was lifting him to his feet, dragging him in some direction before pulling him into a room. His room. His and Simon’s room. The air he had managed to hold onto left in an anguished cry as he collapsed onto his bed. Simons bed. The covers still mussed from where they were in too much of a hurry to make the bed before their latest op.

He placed his head in his knees and tried to catch his breath. Price was a welcome comfort at his side, a hand on his shoulder while he gathered his composure.

“How,” was the only thing he was able to get out. Price sighed beside him, not sure if he was ready but at a gasped please he relented.

“A bomb. Ghost,” he paused, taking a deep breath. “Simon got everyone out. The building collapsed before he could make it out.” Silence. Deafening silence. That was Simon, his Simon, sacrificing himself to make sure everyone else was safe.

“Do we have him?” Johnny could barely get the words out but Price understood him, nodding. “I need to see him.”

“I don’t think that’s a good,” but before Price could finish his statement Johnny was grabbing his shirt, pleading through hiccups. “Alright,” Price resigned.

He guided Johnny through the building to the landing bay where they collected their fallen comrades. He didn’t even have to ask which one was Simon. Off to the far corner near the front of the hangar was a stretcher with an incredibly large body atop it. A black gloves with bones peaked out from under the cover and Johnny could swear he felt his heart break even more.

He released price, going to stand next to him. He grabbed that hand, holding it like it was a lifeline as he pulled the cover down. There was Ghost, bloodstained mask, eyes closed. Johnny could almost convince himself he was sleeping except his chest no longer rose and fell. Falling to his knees, still clutching Simon’s hand, he placed his head on his chest and began rambling.

“You were the one that I wasn’t supposed to lose” was the only thing he managed to get out before another sob gripped him. His thoughts were swirling with everything he wanted to say. He couldn’t find the energy to voice them so he allowed them to float freely in his mind.

Simon wasn’t supposed to go first. How was he supposed to live without him? They were supposed to have their life after this, retire, grow old and be an old cranky married couple. How they were going to get a dog and a cat because it fit both their personalities. Just a few more years, a few more missions, they kept telling themselves. Johnny always knew they’d never get the life they talked about, that one of them would go first but he always thought it’d be him.

He was reckless, impulsive, sometimes even careless in the line of duty. Simon was efficient, pristine, calm, collected and most of all careful. The flash of anger that coursed through him disappeared in an instant. He was supposed to go first but still, he wouldn’t wish this on Simon either.

“You were supposed to be my lifetime, Simon.” He takes a deep breath before his gaze finds the mask again. “How am I supposed to do this without you? The team,” a choked sob, “we won’t hold together without you.” Even as he says it, he knows it’s true. They’ll try. They’ll try for Simon, for Ghost but they’ll fail. Even when they fail, and the team starts to show cracks, they’ll all still hold on. For him. So that Johnny isn’t left alone.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there before Price comes and ushers him back to his room. He doesn’t even manage to get his gear off, just collapses into the bed, into the space where Simon’s smell still lingers. He vows them to never wash these sheets. Hell sleep on others as long as he can keep his smell with him. Keep a piece of him alive, even if it’s just in his dreams.

The anguish Johnny feels can’t compare to the desperation he has to see Simon smiling again. So through the tears, he allows himself to fall asleep, hoping Simon will be there, smiling and alive. Even if it’s just a dream, it’s better than a life without his Ghost.

A/n. If you made it this far I am so sorry.

[4daddy-baby]

Visiting Professor

It was with suppressed excitement that I knocked on Professor Erling's

door.

He opened it wide, a smile on the corner of his lips. His tall, broad

shouldered frame moved just slightly to the side, creating a small space

for me to enter.

"I admire punctuality," he said.

I tried to smile back, but I could feel it come out as a thin tremor. I

squeezed in past him, wanting body contact but avoiding it.

The door closed behind me.

His house was immaculate. Stark without being austere. A large, many spined

ebony carving adorned one wall. The couches were black, the carpets and

walls were all white. One green plant. One blue bowl filled with lemons on

the countertop. Everything just so perfectly placed.

*POP*

The sound of the wine bottle uncorking caught me off-guard. I must've

jumped because Professor Erling looked amused.

"Drink, Professor Sherman?" he asked, waving two wine glasses. "Or do you

wish to jump right into the discussion of Fourier's Heat Law," he added

with a sarcastic drawl.

I gulped only to find my mouth was dry.

"Drink would be great," I rasped, then cleared my throat.

We both had meetings in our calendars for the upcoming week to discuss

complex math problems. Tonight was supposed to be a social thing, just to

get to know each other outside of the university setting.

But I could not deny that I wanted more. No, not math. I wanted to learn if

there was truth to certain rumours that floated around in certain specific

group chats.

He handed me the wine. We both sat down on orthogonal couches. I began to

sip.

"It's a lovely place," I said. "Beautiful and sev- serious."

He gestured a curt wave with his fingers.

"You can say severe," he said. "That is an acceptable compliment, in my

books. Though I would use the word - disciplined."

A shiver of excitement ran down my spine. I kept my breathing even.

"You look to be plenty disciplined yourself," I said boldly. "Not all math

professors bring back the same level of discipline that they apply at work

to maintaining their ... bodies."

Even though his light blue shirt was not too tight, I could see his massive

pecs firm up from the compliment. His face, however, remained impassive.

He replied, "I have seen what happens to those who surrender too quickly to

the ravages of time and senescence. And I am only in my mid-forties." He

ran his hand through his light blond hair, making his bicep and pec bulge

again. "Speaking of time, I was intrigued by your paper on time series

forecasting in post-recession investment management. How many quants did

you have working for you?"

He was turning the conversation towards our technical background and I went

with the flow. I found myself excitedly talking about anything he

asked. And yet, when he would abruptly and firmly change the subject, I

found that I didn't begrudge the change at all. With anyone else, I would

have been miffed, if not downright annoyed.

He himself sat perfectly still, with exception of occasional sips of his

wine and some punctuating hand gestures.

At one point, my stomach rumbled in demand for food. I blushed. He

completely ignored it. We continued talking.

There was a bump from the floor above.

I paused and my eyes darted up to the ceiling. I looked back at him. He

hadn't moved or looked away from me. Though I got the sense that there was

a hint of a smile on the corners of his mouth. I sipped some wine, cast one

more look up and then resumed the conversation.

It wasn't until exactly at 7pm when he cut off our conversation and led me

over to the dining table.

I was served perfectly baked salmon and potatoes. He must've had them in

the oven since before I arrived. The timing needed to be precise, as well

as the cut and position in the oven.

He served it on both our plates, drizzled it cleanly with a creamy dill

dressing, and refilled my wine glass.

We both began our dinner. The taste was exquisite. Like everything else

about him. I was shoving forkfuls into my mouth. He was cutting out exact

pieces and chewing calmly.

Suddenly there was another sound from upstairs. A door slamming shut.

I looked back at him, this time my brow furrowed in question.

He swallowed the morsel and then actually smiled.

"That's just my ... son," he said. His eyes locked on to mine in a

challenge. We both knew that he didn't have a family.

My heart started pounding, my face blushed. I couldn't believe it. The

rumours were true?! I wanted to ask, I wanted to- But I didn't have the

courage.

"Oh. Okay," I replied nervously. I fidgeted and then realized that I was

adjusting my growing cock. I brought my hand back up above the table and

kept my eyes on my plate as I ate.

He too resumed eating. The clink of silverware filled silence in the room.

When we were done, he cleaned up the table, rinsed the plates, and put them

in the dishwasher.

"A bit of port to wind down?" he asked, reaching for a different bottle. I

nodded.

We returned to the living room and he poured out the dessert wine. I

realized that the lights had automatically dimmed inside, just as twilight

had fully descended outside.

I tried to steer the conversation to his childhood and his background,

hoping to find out more about his son. But he deftly turned it right back

to my childhood.

"Yes, I was always closer to my mother than my fa-" I stopped mid

sentence. There was a creak from the stairs. And then another.

Someone was coming down the stairs to the living room.

I could see in my periphery that Professor Erling's eyes were locked onto

mine. But mine were locked onto the stairs.

A bare foot descended onto a step that I could see. Then the second one.

It descended again, and again.

Bare, brown calves came into view.

And then, the thighs. Reddish brown, muscular like an Olympic

athlete. Completely smooth, like the rest of the leg.

As the naked upper thighs came into view, I swallowed in anticipation,

wondering if this figure was completely naked. I held my breath as the

crotch descended.

Blue, red, black net, bulge. It took me a second to process what I was

seeing. The bulge was straining against a pair of tight, way too tight and

small, spiderman briefs. It looked like the underwear of a 15 year old had

been forced onto a man. And when he descended even more, I realized that's

exactly what had happened. His shaved crotch was all too visible as the hem

of the underwear could not cover much of his hips and groin.

He descended.

His adonis belt came into view. His taut stomach with four easily visible

abs. Deliciously brown and smooth. Something big and yellow by his side.

He descended.

His bulging pecs and dark brown nipples came into view. His muscular arms

wrapped around a large, yellow stuffed toy. Likely one of those Japanese

animated creatures.

He descended onto the living room floor.

A college student. Pure-blooded native American, by the looks of him. Bold,

sharp cheekbones. A fanged necklace hanging between his pectoral

cleavage. His hair long down to his neck.

I realized that my cock was fully hard.

"Daddy," he said in a soft voice, pitched as high and mewling as he

could. "Won't you tuck me in bed and read me a bedtime story?" His eyes

looked pleadingly towards Professor Erling, completely ignoring me.

The professor stood up. He looked at me said, "Excuse me, Professor

Sherman, but it is time for me to tuck in my little boy." He walked over to

the college boy and turned him towards the stairs. With his arm wrapped

around the boy's waist, he started to take him up the stairs.

Then he stopped. Turned around. And said to me, "Of course, you are welcome

to watch."

He turned back and continued climbing.

I realized my jaw had dropped at some point. I closed my mouth, put down my

port with shaking fingers, and stood up. My cock was tenting my pants and

there was no way to hide it.

I left the living room and walked up the stairs. The lights behind me

dimmed down to total darkness.

---

I opened wide the door to his son's room. It was covered in superhero

posters on every wall. I recognized some GI Joe posters too. And there were

shirtless burly men drawn in an oriental style as well.

There was a half finished lego castle in one corner. A lava lamp lit the

room. The bed was covered in Aladdin sheets featuring Disney's rendition of

the genie. And on top of the sheets was the hot college boy, laying naked

with his hard cock pointing up at the cieling, eyes on his daddy.

The professor was carefully putting away the stuffed toy.

Once he was done, he started to unbutton his shirt.

In slow motion, his pale Scandinavian arms and torso came into view. Pecs

covered with blond and grey hair. No abs but no sign of a belly either. Not

quite as Olympian a build as the college boy, but easily in the 95th

percentile of men in their mid forties.

He hooked his fingers on to his pants buttons and unhooked them.

"Have you brushed your teeth?" he asked the college boy sternly.

"Yes, Daddy," the boy replied dutifully.

The professor lowered his pants, his strong, hairy thighs and calves coming

into view.

"Have you folded and put away your laundry?"

"Yes, Daddy."

The professor lowered his black boxer briefs to the floor. An eight inch

cock, thick, with a purple mushroom head rose up towards the ceiling. I

licked my lips.

"Have you done your homework?" he asked.

"Yes, Daddy," the boy replied, with a note of shame in his voice.

As the professor walked slowly to the bed, he spoke without turning to look

at me. "Some students in my class think that they can coast by without

doing their homework." He clambered on top of the bed, kneeling with his

legs on either side of the college boy's torso. "And then they discover

that they cannot pass my class without doing their homework." He moved up

so that his cockhead was against the lips of the college boy. "A select few

of those students get made an offer by me." He put a finger under the base

of his cock and slowly dragged it up to the tip. A spurt of precum came

gushing out and covered the boy's lips. The boy did not open his lips but

waited patiently. "And some of them even take me up on that offer. For one

week, they have the honour of being my son." He used his cock to rub the

precum all over the college boy's face. "My good little boy." With each

word, he smacked his slimed cock on the boy's face. "Open wide for Daddy's

pacifier."

Immediately, the college boy opened his mouth, eagerly took the professor's

mushroom head into his mouth, and began sucking. The boy's own cock was

hard, long, and dripping. But he kept his hands on the professor's thighs.

My own hand went down to my hard cock tenting my pants and squeezed it.

The professor's head snapped in my direction like a whip, and his face

darkened.

"Hands off!" he commanded, and my hands flew behind my back, clasping each

other. "Only one cock," he continued, "Gets to be pleasured under this

roof. If you cannot control yourself, leave!"

Of course I wasn't going to leave. I sputtered some form of apology but his

attention was already back to his ... son.

As his boy slowly but eagerly sucked his cockhead, the professor reached

over to the bedside shelf and picked up a small children's picture. He

opened it up to the first page and began reading.

"Once upon a time, there was a brave, little prince."

He pushed his cockhead deeper into the college boy's mouth.

"The prince's mother ruled over the largest forest in the lands."

One of his hands moved away from the book and rested on the massive,

bulging, smooth, brown pec of the college boy.

"One day, the prince decided to run away and explore the forest without any

of his royal guards."

He was turning the pages with his thumb as he held the book with one hand.

"The prince saw a beehive. He tried to get the honey, but he only got

stung."

He squeezed the boy's pec and pinched his nipple. Precum gushed out from

the boy's cock, as he moaned in pleasure.

"The prince saw a salmon jump up from a river. He tried to catch it, but he

only gulped down water."

He pushed his cock more than half way in. The boy gagged but the cock just

kept going.

"The prince saw a purple mushroom. He tried to eat it, but it only choked

him."

He put the book on the bed, to the side. He gripped the boy's head with

both hands and skullfucked his student until the gagging boy was frothing

at the mouth. For his part, the boy didn't seem to be opposed to it. He was

holding on to the professor's thighs for dear life, but it didn't look like

he was pushing him back.

The professor removed his cock from the boy's mouth. The boy sputtered and

gasped for breath, but then his mouth followed the cockhead's movement like

a snake being charmed by a snake charmer.

The professor removed his whole body off the bed. The boy turned over on to

his belly, got on all fours, and then moved to hold his ass close to the

edge of the bed, likely lined up with the professor's cock. He, and the

professor, were both facing me. The professor picked up the book again with

one hand while his other hand was out my sight, behind the boy's ass.

"Shall I continue the story, son?"

"Yes, please, Daddy!" he said.

"Mmm... maybe I don't want to continue the story..." His hand behind the

boy was moving very slowly, judging by the motion of his arms.

"But it's my favourite story!" the boy whined. "Please, please, pretty

please, Daddy, with cherry on top!"

"Hmmm... very well then. Let's see. And then the Prince met a white wolf."

His hips thrust forward and the Native American boy gasped.

"The wolf said to the prince, 'Hurry home, little boy, or you will soon get

eaten.'" His hips slowly pushed all the way forward until he must've been

fully in. The boy's eyes rolled back into his eyes in pleasure as he let

out a feral whine.

"The prince replied, 'But this is all my country and one day I will be

king!'" The boy breathed in deeply, adjusting to the cock.

"The white wolf felt pity for the prince, but his own hunger was

ravening. He pounced on the boy and ate all of him except his heart."

Dropping the book to the floor, the professor grabbed the athletic college

boy by his hips with both hands and began to fuck him in earnest. The boy

moaned in toe-curling ecstasy as his professor pounded him from

behind. Minutes went by as the pair mated in this position. I could see a

sheen of sweat on his back and on the professor's chest. They grunted and

moaned but no words were exchanged.

The boy started to breathe heavily. Both his hands clutched the sheets

around him. He let out one long whine and lowered his head to the bed. His

body twitched and jerked.

When his head rose up, I saw that there was cum on the sheets under his

belly.

The professor kept rutting. This hips slapping against the boy's ass over

and over.

And then the professor went rigid and still. All the veins in his muscles

seemed to bulge, but if he was breathing heavily, I couldn't tell.

Then he let out a deep breath, and pulled away from the boy. The boy looked

behind over his shoulder and said, "Thank you Daddy for the bedtime story

and for Daddy's nighttime milkies!" He got up, gave the professor a kiss on

the cheek, grabbed a towel from a dresser, and left the room. I heard the

sound of a shower start.

The professor had put on a bathrobe and he headed back down the stairs.

I knew I was to follow, but I just had to check one thing.

I bounded into the now empty room that smelled of sex. I found the

children's picture book and opened it to the page where the professor had

stopped. I read the words under my breath.

"The wolf took the Prince's heart to the Queen. Weeping, she took the heart

and placed it in a wicker puppet. For years after, the kingdom was ruled by

the wise but fragile wicker king, and for years after, the white wolf

continued devouring any boys that came his way. The End."

I flipped to the cover. "The Prince and the White Wolf" by Erik Erling. I

placed it back on the shelf along with many other similar titles. "The

Black Swan and the White Wolf" by Erik Erling. "The Lonely Dove and the

White Wolf" by Erik Erling.

I hastily left the room and walked back down the stairs.

[tidesages]

<<the truth about tropos>>

(a tale for sister pyre) (WARNING: body horror)

Everything hurt.

The pain fluctuated in waves and spikes, exacerbated if Marianne dared move a muscle. Still, it was constant and overwhelming. The only way she could tell time was from the healer sages and their words… something like a week had passed? Perhaps two? She drifted in and out of consciousness frequently, though even her dreams were tinted with the hazy discomfort.

Being bed-bound had given her time to think, between waves. She’d been stupid, assuming those who’d fallen were dead, and even more so when she hadn’t brought them in as well. If they’d all been locked up, perhaps the Shrine wouldn’t have had to bear its flooding at the hands of one angry sage.

Even now, the memory of that cold face made her want to get up and flee. Was this what the Tidemother could have looked like, if she were given form? Was this her punishment for thinking Taggin could be saved? The memory of Worth’s face was so associated with pain that her entire body once more throbbed with agony. It took a will of steel to remind herself that she was still in the infirmary and that the pain would pass.

Without her willing it, the face morphed into another. Bronze skin and curly black hair paled, turned fair with straight and greyed brown locks. Soft lines turned hard and cruel, staring down his nose in her memory. The words floated along with him, in Taggin’s voice.

Couldn’t make an example of him, so it’s on me now?

Marianne’s eyes were already shut, but she squeezed them tighter. Oh, she’d royally bungled that up, hadn’t she? Her resentment had gotten in the way of her duty, and she’d needled where she needed to be understanding. Not to mention that she had given in on some points where she hadn’t intended to, all due to her emotions being manipulated.

Maybe this was what had drawn others to Taggin, tides damn her. She had to pull them in by twisting her words, rather than by being any sort of good person. Doing good took effort and sacrifice, and that cultist had never experienced either.

And yet… Maybe I could understand, if you told me. Marianne gave a low groan into the air, one that held more pain than that which spiked in her bones.

Her mind was running in circles, and her body was a prison in which she stalked like a rat in a cage. Perhaps this was how Taggin had felt… but no, she was doing it again. Stop that, Marianne.

So consumed was she that the steps to her bed went unnoticed. At least, until the familiar voice spoke up. “I don’t know if you can hear me, Marianne.” Ah. That was Tobias. No one could sound as smug as him, even when he had no right to be. Especially when he had no right to be. “But I’d heard you had a bad run-in with the sage that flooded the lower half of the Shrine, so I had to visit.”

There was a little huff as he sat down in the chair beside her bed - not that she could see, she kept her eyes shut. It wasn’t like she could move, or even speak without pain, so what was the point. “I wanted to let you know that I made it back alright. They drove off that brute at Fort Daelin, and now I’m here.” He paused, and she could imagine him wiping sweat off of his neck. Probably what he deserved. Her thoughts weren’t very charitable right now.

“Given the losses, I’ll need to take some time to fortify the Shrine and work on finding new initiates. We may need to take on more mainlanders - of acceptable races, of course - in order to start filling things up again. The upside is that there’s less chance of unfortunate leanings, though they’ll have things to unlearn. The downside is that this will take a lot of work, and I’ll need to recall some monastery sages to help teach.” Tobias leaned back in his chair. “Once everything’s set up, I’ve got my plans for the cultist island. This shouldn’t take further soldiers or sages, though. I’ve got it handled, and Pike won’t need to know about that part, bless his soul.”

Finally, he stood up, and Marianne could have sighed in relief if it wouldn’t aggravate broken ribs. But the next words chilled her blood. “About Taggin and the others… I can’t really blame them for going after you, with the way you’ve been hounding them. I made a deal to not go after them, very kind I know, so they won’t be my problem. You’re on your own, so I suggest you do the same to prevent further trouble. We have bigger fish to fry with all those k’thir.”

“Make the right choice, Marianne. I know you’re a sensible girl who’ll see my way, won’t you?” With that, he strode off with the click of boots upon stone floors. All she could do was seethe motionlessly in her own bed.

Who was he to tell her what to do? They were supposed to be working together to cleanse the Shrine! How would any new sages be safe if there was always the chance that cultists like Taggin and her ilk could waltz in. Securing the Shrine like Tobias had mentioned would be impossible… the mountain was like cheese. It was full of holes, and possible friends who would help betray the Wake for their comrades.

There was no comfort in his words, and for a long and vengeful moment she wished he had died in his attack on Kraken’s Refuge. It wasn’t a feasible thing to wish for, but she could still dream if nothing else.

Oh, Marianne. Again, she’d been too preoccupied to hear any sound, but this one rattled in her head rather than in her ears. What have you gotten into this time?

Her eyes flew open. Nothing was visible, really… the private room in the infirmary ward was quiet and bare, with lanterns set up and the chair beside her empty. She was alone, wasn’t she?

Nearly beaten to death, and by Worth Farthing of all sages. That sounded almost unreasonably amused before it continued, And not only is Taggin gone again, you can’t even stop her. Not like this, anyway. And there’s no help from your partners on the council. Montague has his own plans, and Pike’s been… distant, to say the least. Finally, her searching eyes found a black slick sliding over the edge of the covers, rising up slightly into a smooth blob that watched her sightlessly.

The struggle of being unable to speak drew another fierce ache through her, one she couldn’t escape from as a tear formed in her eye. Don’t fret, Marianne. Just think the words, and I’ll hear them. I’m here to make things easier for you. The ink rose in place, slightly higher, to meet her eye level.

She was certainly good at thinking, but it was one thing to have thoughts flash across her mind like lightning and another to think with the intention of being heard. Why are you here? It couldn’t sound as firm as she liked to in her head.

Am I really so surprising? With a sinuous slither, more ink rose from beneath the bed to approximate a more human-sized shape with pits for a face. I told you I’d get back to you when you needed me more. I’d like for you to reconsider our offer, if you’re willing.

Bile climbed up into the back of her throat and made it burn. Another discomfort to add to the list. I have a hard time reconsidering if I don’t even know what the offer is, she thought bleakly. How awful was it that she was even entertaining the notion?

This drew the ink together, and it twisted in what was possibly contemplation. Seeing it threading around itself, and the ‘face’ moving in lazy circles, was a bit sickening, so she turned her gaze away. Essentially, what I’m offering is for us to form a little bond. There was a note of amusement at its wording there. I offer you my powers to their fullest extent… powers that make Farthing seem like the amateur that he is… and in turn I get the protection of being bound to you. That makes the two of us harder to kill, in fact. I can even heal you from this wretched state that you’re in, and help you get up from this bed today. 

This was a lot more tempting than it had sounded before. Marianne didn’t let the thought rise to the surface, though, struggling for that same level of skepticism. If you have that much power, you don’t need me. And how am I supposed to know that this power isn’t the very same as that which I’ve been fighting to remove from the Shrine? The latter question was definitely one she’d thought over in those passing months since the last time they’d met. Even if it was tied to a storied tidesage artifact, there had to be something truly wrong with it.

The ink slumped into formlessness as a mental sigh shook through her head. It drew out an answering twinge from her healing bones. You hold so much mistrust, Marianne. I’m not lying to you here. Something bubbled from within, slowly pulling more ink upward… until a glimmer of white caught the corner of her eye. She looked back, and a tooth had appeared from within the ink. A molar, buoyed up by the liquid.

Tropos was a fine fellow who wanted to know too much. The tooth slowly began to wander around the column of ink, followed by Marianne’s gaze. He asked for power from the Tidemother, and got more than what he bargained for. Because, my dearest, truth is really such a subjective thing. People don’t want to know the truth, because it can be so painful. Truth is the blade slicing away at the ropes and string that keep people together, the little lies that help them live with themselves. Her face must have twitched, because it added, You lie to yourself as well. If you hadn’t, you would have already come clean about why you want Taggin to suffer so much.

That’s truth I can ignore because there are real reasons to go after her, Marianne retorted without having to think about it. Why should I come clean about those feelings if they don’t matter, in the end? She wanted to squirm away - already it had dug into a part of her that hurt - but wasn’t that the point? If she was going to win, she not only had to hold onto enough power to defeat them, but she had to confront any lies that could cause complications. But I see your point. Go on.

The towering mass of ink quivered in silent laughter. You can say that I’m a separate part of that same power for truth. A bit twisted, true, but everything in life has at least a bit of shadow in it. The Tidemother made both the shallows and the depths, did she not? There is a place for darkness in the world, as long as there’s not too much. As long as it’s controllable. It let that sink in, as it continued to stain the blankets. It takes someone with a strong will, like you, to control that power and keep it from being misused.

Marianne involuntarily rolled her eyes. Another point, perhaps, but you might be laying it on a bit thick. And what about that protection you mentioned? Why would you need that? If this was even going to be something she could entertain, to accept as a bond, then she needed to know the answers to the important questions.

Taggin wields a dagger that can trap me… one that I have no guard against. It sure sounded reluctant there, she noted silently. Of course, with some flesh in the way to stop her, and my healing, it shouldn’t be a problem for us. But I have a feeling that your next work with her will be more successful than the last. Slowly, it swirled back into an approximation of a figure at her bedside. Those blank pits that passed for eyes stared at her.

The worst part about all of this was that the instant she started to consider, she knew she’d take the bargain. Not because she liked it, but because it was necessary. She’d run out of other options… in this hunt she’d be alone, without any sort of help to stop the worst criminals against the Shrine. And a lone sage, even as part of the council, stood no chance.

It rankled her. But it gave her hope, dangerously so, and she allowed herself to believe that she could win.

Ahhhhhh. The sound was accompanied by the hiss of sliding ink. Remember, I can’t hurt you when we’re one. Not only would it be counterproductive, I can’t destroy what is part of me. It knew it had her, really, before she could think an actual word. But it couldn’t act until she’d given permission.

Very well then. The thought was a sigh of its own, air given through her nose with a sharp pain in her ribs. How do we do this…?

Just leave it to me, promised the ink. I’ll take good care of you. Slowly, tenderly, it lowered down over the prone woman. A pitch-black tendril escaped the mass and traced down her cheek, the soft touch of a lover. Her eyes fell shut to anticipate the loss of pain. She couldn’t relax, but there was no fear. For a moment.

Then the ink pushed between her lips. It tasted metallic, bitter, with a hint of brine. This wasn’t what she’d signed up for, and Marianne’s eyes flew open. She couldn’t do more than twitch, though, and it slid in deeper to start sliding its way down her throat. Soon, her chest heaved with a retch, trying to expel the foreign material, but this only sent another white-hot stab through her bones. It didn’t deter the intrusion.

It was then that she realized that she was in trouble, as her mouth was filled with cold and sticky fluid that seemed intent on crawling its way into her stomach. The world turned hazy with the tears filling her eyes, and she shuddered uselessly in her fleshy prison. It was also sliding into her airway, and she choked uselessly. Of course now it would suffocate her, and she could only struggle to try to breathe past the sliding ink along her airways.

Don’t fight it, Marianne. Black crept over her vision, impossible to tell if it was from being without air or if the ink had also slid into her eyes. She could still feel dampness covering her corneas. You won’t die. Not yet. This was far from comforting.

As the ink burrowed its way deeper, she began to shudder without stop. Her body was moving without her permission, shivers running from head to toe and lighting up flickers of agony with each motion. She had to be dying, and when it was done there would be nothing left. Despite that, she could feel the sharp edges of something sliding down her throat washed down with ink. The Tooth. It hit the back of her throat and her stomach roiled once more in protest. This only forced the ink up slightly, and it continued to force its way down into her.

Where did it end? The thing had settled over her like a blanket and pressed down upon her… the trembling hadn’t stopped, though, and her back was arching against the restraining force. Oh Tidemother, it was everywhere. Everywhere it could touch, she could feel it trying to slide itself into her body like a hand pouring water into a pot.

Before she could contain all of the ink, the darkness enveloped her mind, and she passed out.

Even here, free from pain and terror, she wasn’t alone. I’d forgotten how little tolerance the body has for pain. Sadly, there wasn’t another option for what we need.

Have you done this before? At least now that she couldn’t feel the pain, there was enough time to be curious.

Tropos, or whatever its name was, felt… slightly apprehensive. The emotion echoed in her briefly, as if they had both been seated in a boat that had abruptly swayed. Once. There was a politician who sought the Tooth for his own gain. But he was an arrogant fool whose schemes took him down, and me with him. A man’s face flashed across her mind with the words, with solemn gnomish features and rectangular glasses. You… you’re different. We chose this, you and I. Our purposes are one.

Marianne’s unhappiness with the whole bonding bled through, met with something almost like sympathy from the ink. It won’t be long. In fact, I can probably wake you up now. You should be in far less pain. She hesitated at the answer… then agreed, silently.

I want to see who I am. If I’m still me.

When she woke, she could see. For the most part.

Colors had just a bit more tint to them, with odd little outlines that seemed to swim strangely. The glow from the lanterns sent fractal patterns along the walls that were almost enough to distract her from the rest of the changes.

Her body felt… longer. Perhaps that was a good way to describe it, as if it was scraped too thinly over what was contained within. Her feet hung over the edge of the bed, and when she glanced down, the tips of her toes looked far too black. With odd little points that lightly shone with the gleam of ink above the now-stained grey coverlet. 

Marianne sat up slowly, and her body informed her that pain was still an option, but she could tell that her bones seemed stronger. Stronger, but still healing. She could see more ink creeping into the coverlets, and her mouth was wet with darkness creeping in, but that didn’t matter so much now.

Looking down, she could see that her hands had lengthened as well, skin pulled tighter against extended bones. Her fingernails had been stretched and blackened in turn with sharp points curving slightly into a clawed shape.

Well, years in a dull sage robe had removed most of her hangups about her own appearance. Marianne gave a sigh, and murmured, “I wasn’t going to win an award anyway.” Her voice vibrated strangely in her chest, with an extra layer of something deepening each vowel and consonant. Were those her words still, or theirs?

Just as quickly, she could feel its thoughts as clear as her own. You look perfect, Marianne. She gave a small snort, then stood with some effort. Ink pooled in her marrow and the pain faded. The blankets and bedding behind her had been discolored from the bonding, leaving behind a black imprint of her body.

There was so much to do, she couldn’t bring herself to care about the infirmary now. She needed to wash and dress… then to draft up a new wanted poster.

The ink purred and swished inside of her chest as she set off, leaving a trail of damp black footprints in her wake.

[photosynthefish-12]

She hadn’t thought the shuttle would be this empty - just two other passengers, both human. “Wolf Paradise” as it translated was a fairly unpopular system, having little of interest aside from its binary star system and pastel banded clouds. The planet itself was uninhabitable and helium mining was prohibited by one of the treaties protecting primitive life (some sort of floating bacteria-analog, she’d read). Still, she’d heard enough about human tourism to expect more visitors to the slowly growing habitat orbiting Wolf Paradise.

She wasn’t sure whether to be more or less nervous that her first time meeting humans was almost one-on-one, allowing her to get a close look at the deathworlders. They both arrived earlier than she did, waiting patiently in not-quite-opposite seats for the shuttle to launch. They were both still, staring distantly at the opposite walls. Rather disappointing, she supposed, compared to the horror stories about human boredom.

She stowed her luggage just in time for the pilot to announce their departure, and settled into a seat. It would be a long flight, but she liked watching people. Almost immediately after the announcement, one of the humans closed their eyes and leaned their head back against the wall, a low sound like a musical purr emerging from their throat.

After a few minutes the other started to move - drumming their fingers in a simple wave, then tapping out a steady beat with their foot, and suddenly bursting into a complicated cadence with both hands. Her gill-slits flared with surprise at the sudden, almost violent motion. The other human lazily opened their eyes to watch for a bit, so she settled back down.

The human’s drumming was almost hypnotic - a steady but continually changing rhythm that took advantage of everything within reach. Their foot kept a steady time, and their hands tapped precisely against their legs, the seat, each other, and their legs again. She noticed that the human’s whole body moved in time - head nodding subtly, even breathing with the beat.

“Are you a percussionist?” the other human asked, waiting for a pause in the pattern.

The drummer stopped, visibly shifting focus to the other human. “Only for a year when I was in high school, why?”

“Every percussionist I’ve ever met has done that, but very few people who aren’t do it.”

The drummer seemed to consider for a moment. “I guess when it’s banging two things together you’re never not able to make music. It’s like my hands itch for it when I’m bored.”

“That’s something pretty human, I think.” said the other, flashing me a grin. “Making music just because you can. I think this trip could do with a bit more music. Tell me, do you know any space shanties?”

The other human sang. The drummer’s rhythm gave strength to the melody, and the singer built off their rhythm. She was reasonably sure the two were strangers, but they wove the song as one. It seemed almost a tangible thing, music clinging to the skin of the ship and leaking out into the cold void of space. 

Now she knew why so many of the guides to humans referenced the myth of the siren - the power in the simple song of two strangers made even her want to join in. She settled for watching and listening as the humans wove music together for hours - just because they could.

[sweeterthanthis]

Your Filthy Heart

Part Three: The Pure and The Poison

Your Filthy Heart Masterlist

Thank you to @ozarkthedog for reading this through for me and to @msmarvelwrites for the support and some epic dirty talk suggestions!

Summary: It’s time to give Daddy a taste of his own medicine by bringing your boyfriend, Peter Parker, home for dinner.

Pairing: Stepdad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Peter Parker x Female Reader

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, explicit language, daddy/stepdad kink, infidelity, vaginal sex, dirty talk, derogatory language, a touch of face slapping, cum play(?). 18+.

 Word Count: 3.5k

“I’m nervous, like really nervous. Is my tie straight?” 

There was a part of you that felt guilty for dragging Peter into your shit, truly. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying his affections. 

He was handsome, a strong jawline, kind eyes, a boy next door kinda attitude. Peter was everything that Bucky wasn’t, and maybe a little part of you made the conscious decision to start dating him because he was so different.

You knew you were pushing your luck, but when the thought occurred to invite him home for dinner, your mouth engaged before your brain and you’d already asked. 

“It’s just dinner, Pete. You didn’t need to wear a tie at all.” You couldn’t help but smile at him as he fixed his hair in the rear mirror, but the pit of dread in your stomach was only growing more by the second. “Come on, Mom’s probably bouncing up and down in anticipation.”

“Your Stepdad’s gonna be home soon right? Fuck, I wanna make a good impression.” 

Placing a hand on his thigh, muscular and firm, you gave it a reassuring squeeze. He really was adorable, an underlying sexiness about him because he was so concerned with being the most decent guy he could be. And he didn’t deserve a single second of the torture you were about to put him through. 

Was that going to stop you? Absolutely not. 

You knew your mother would be too high on the buzz that you’d finally met a guy you’d deemed important enough to bring home for dinner. She wouldn’t notice the impending tension, of that you were sure. 

Stepping out of Peter’s car, your tummy flipping at the thought of Bucky coming home to find his spot in the garage taken, you readjusted your skirt and motioned at Peter to get out of the car with a roll of your eyes and a nod of your head. 

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He muttered, reaching for the bouquet of flowers he’d bought for your Mom in the back seat. 

Grabbing his hand, you tugged him towards the door connecting the house to your garage, you made your way to the kitchen -- the scent of pot roast, of course, filling the air and the sounds of gentle piano music playing softly in the background. 

Your Mom really had gone the whole hog to make a good impression, and you couldn’t blame her. She had no idea you were screwing her husband, feelings of possessiveness and bitterness growing with each passing day. 

She loved Peter. That much was very clear from the second she’d been introduced to him.  

You feigned interest as she sat across from him on the plush, cream sofa; asking him a thousand questions and not allowing him the airtime to answer a single one before she’d thought of another. 

But all you could think of was him. The look on his face when he saw Peter sitting next to you on the couch, the hand that was currently resting loosely on your knee, your Mother’s beaming smile as she informed him that we had a dinner guest. 

You revelled in the power you held — the power to drive him insane with jealousy. 

You zoned out as you helped your Mother set the table, the sound of her voice muffled in your ears when you heard the low rumble of a car engine pull up on the driveway; blood instantly pounding in your ears. 

“Oh, that’ll be James.” Your mother gushed, clasping her hands together and straightening out the cutlery on the way back to the kitchen. 

James. 

She always did like to abandon the nickname when she was trying to impress. You’d heard the name ring out in the night air on more than one occasion that week. And the thought made you sick. 

You held no claim over him. Not really. But that didn’t stop the rage from bubbling in your belly each and every time. 

“Hey, you okay? You look as nervous as I feel.” 

Peters hand resting on your lower back, his soft eyes looking down on you with gentle concern, you forced yourself to smile and nodded. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. He can just be a little,” you paused, wringing your fingers together in front of you, “intense.” 

He wrapped his arm around your waist, tugging you into his side to give your body a reassuring squeeze — guilt thumping through your veins as you cursed yourself for dragging him into the mess you’d found yourself in. 

“Anyone wanna tell me who’s car is in my spot?” 

The sound of his voice, laced with irritation and curiosity, had your heart beating rapidly in your chest; the reality of what you’d done setting in as his footsteps drew nearer. 

“Hey, it’ll be fine. I’ll make a good impression, I promise.” 

Peter was too good for you, of that much you were certain. But you forced a smile anyway, leaning up on your tiptoes to meet his waiting kiss. 

At the worst possible moment. 

“What do we have here?” 

Exhaling a shaky breath, you composed yourself, opening your eyes to meet his fiery stare. There he stood in the living room doorway, rolling up the sleeves of his crisp, black button up. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to the way the veins in his hands flexed. 

Before you could speak, Peter stepped forward; holding his own hand out for Bucky to shake. 

“Mr Barnes, Sir, I’m Peter Parker. It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

All you could do was watch as Peter’s hand hung in the air, Bucky with his hands on his hips, leaning back on his heels slightly. The tension was evident, yet only you and he knew why — the weight of your entanglement heavy in the air. 

“Finally, huh?” 

Bucky caught your anxiety-ridden stare over Peter’s shoulder, chewing on the inside of his cheek; brow furrowed as he blew out a heavy breath through his nostrils. 

“Nice to meet you, Peter. I didn’t realise we’d be having a guest for dinner.” Bucky stepped forward then, forcing a smile and shaking Peter’s hand firmly with one hand, and planting the other firmly on his shoulder. “Would’ve come home earlier, but then nobody tells me anything in this house.” 

The intent to agitate Bucky was clearly paying off, but you never anticipated the way it would make you feel — stomach churning and headache inducing. 

With Peter in the room and your Mother hovering in the next room, you knew you were safe. Yet the thought of what he might do later that night after your Mother had passed out from necking too much Chardonnay had your tummy fluttering. 

“C’mon, Pete.” Bucky threw a smirk in your direction, throwing an arm around Peter’s shoulder and guiding him towards the kitchen. “Let’s go get a beer and leave the ladies to it, huh?”

Your mouth hung open in astonishment and your feet planted to the floor, all you could do was watch as your lover took your boyfriend aside for what you could only assume would be a desperately uncomfortable conversation. 

As you helped your Mother to prepare dinner, absentmindedly chopping tomatoes for the salad, you kept one eye on Bucky who was already sitting at the dining table across from a flustered Peter — and mentally kicked yourself for putting yourself in such a stressful situation. 

You tried not to look at him as you walked over to the table, salad bowl heavy in your trembling hands.

Walking around the back of his chair, you did your best to flash Peter a reassuring smile, his eyes flitting from yours to Bucky’s while he tried to keep his attention on the conversation. 

As you leant over to put the salad bowl on the table, a discreet, firm squeeze to your ass made you jump; his fingers digging into your flesh in not so subtle warning. 

“Oh!”

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, shooting a concerned look in your direction. 

Breathing a short sigh of relief when his hand withdrew, you straightened yourself out and walked around to your Boyfriends seat; blood hot with frustration at the way Bucky had put his hands on you in such a fragile situation. 

Suddenly, you simply didn’t give a fuck. 

How dare he try to lay a claim on you after everything you’d had to deal with; having to watch every day while he played at happy marriages with your mother. 

“I’m fine, Babe.” You leant down then, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek and shooting Bucky a warning stare. “I’m gonna go wash up for dinner, okay? Be right back.” 

Your anxiety was slowly morphing into vitriol, your hips swaying as you marched past your Stepfather’s unamused gaze. 

Fuck him. 

You washed your hands in the bathroom, gearing yourself up for what was sure to be a very awkward dinner — checking your makeup in the mirror, and fixing your hair. 

He’d riled you up, and now you had a point to prove. And you had every intention of doing so, one way or another. 

Making your way out of the bathroom, you straightened out your pleated skirt - the one you knew drove Bucky crazy - walking down the hallway with a confidence that you’d seemingly plucked out of nowhere. 

“What the-” 

One strong arm wrapped around your midsection, pulling your back tight against a broad chest -- and you needed no clue as to whom it belonged to. 

He yanked you through the door to the garage, shoving you forwards a little as the door clicked shut and the lock twisted. 

Everything inside you told you to give him a piece of your mind, spinning on your heel, your cheeks hot with disbelief. 

But as he stepped towards you, his eyes trained on your shaking form, you felt warmth flood your groin and you were putty once again. You hated how easily he reduced you to a desperate mess of a girl. Truly, you did. 

The fact remained, your Boyfriend was the other side of the wall and your Mother was floating around the house fussing like a woman possessed. 

“How dare—”

Bucky’s hand gripped your throat in warning, wedding ring digging against the supple flesh of your neck - the fire in his beautiful eyes causing your pussy to clench around nothing.

Shoved up against the passenger side of Peter’s car, you lifted your chin in defiance, a slight smirk gracing your glossy lips as you soaked in his fury. 

“You tryna piss Daddy off, Princess? ‘Cause you’re doin’ a real good job.” 

Your fingers dragged up your bare thighs, lifting your skirt up higher, his thigh pressed firmly against your lace covered cunt. 

“What’sa matter, Daddy? You jealous?” The low growl that emitted from his throat made you shudder, his breath warming your face as he tilted your chin up roughly with his fingers. “You not enjoying getting a taste of your own medicine, Daddy? Is that it?”

“You fuck that kid? Huh?” The hand around your throat squeezed, thumb pushing against your pulse point, his lips inches from yours. “You better answer me or I swear to fuckin’ God, girl...”

One hand palming at the throbbing erection in his trousers, the other gripping his own as it shook against your throat, you smiled. And he looked like he wanted to fucking murder you. 

“So what if I did? Seems fair to me. At least you don’t have to listen to me screaming his name. And Daddy, he makes me scream.” 

You ignored the fear bubbling in your chest, your bratty mouth unable to stop itself from running merry hell. 

“He’s so big, Daddy. Stretches me out so good.” Bucky pulled you towards him then, teeth clenched and jaw ticking, on the edge of losing every bit of control. And you just couldn’t help yourself. “You should see it.”

The dark chuckle that fell from his lips held no humor, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek and his head cocked to the side. 

“Is that what this is, Princess? Fuck, that jealousy’s just eatin’ you up, huh? Poor baby…” 

Your confidence waned for a moment, whimpering pathetically as his thumb traced your trembling jaw. You couldn’t stop yourself, hips winding down against his thick thigh, a twinkle in his eye as he watched you with a faux pout etched on his lips. 

“If you weren’t so fuckin’ cute, it’d be pathetic. Lookit you; grindin’ down on Daddy’s leg like a bitch in heat. What would Peter say, hmm?”  

Shame swam deep in your gut, but it was nothing compared to the warmth spreading between your legs, the damp patch on your panties staining the material of his suit pants.

“Daddy—” 

His fingers nestled between your lips, pressing down on your tongue as they slid down your throat - gag reflex kicking in when the tips of his fingers found your tonsils. 

“Suck.” 

You did as he asked, eyes boring into his as he thrust his fingers back and forth between your lips, garbled moans vibrating in your throat, spit coating the platinum band on his ring finger. 

“Why do I always gotta remind you who you belong to, huh?” You couldn’t answer, mouth stuffed full, tears pooling in your eyes, and spittle dripping from the corners of your mouth. “You think I was just gonna make nice with your little boyfriend in there? Bet he doesn’t know what a dirty little cockslut you really are does he?” 

A sharp tap to your cheek, spit slick against your skin, had you quivering. Yet your hands found the collar of his shirt, gripping it tightly and yanking him down towards you. Your lips crashed against his then, a satisfied grunt vibrating against your mouth, one hand gripping your ass while the other dove between your legs. 

Bucky held you tight against his chest, fingers dipping beneath the gusset of your panties and swiping through your sloppy folds as he walked you clumsily round to the hood of Peter’s car - lifting you effortlessly and setting you down, cool metal causing you to shudder from the chill. 

You watched as he yanked your panties down your legs, your heart pounding at the thought of your Mother and your Boyfriend next door, waiting for you to return.

“I can’t trust you to be a good girl, can I? Can’t trust you to keep those fuckin’ legs shut.” 

“Daddy, I-” 

“You’re gonna shut your fuckin’ mouth and take it, you got that Princess?” 

Before you could open your mouth to answer, he’d balled your damp panties in his fist and forced them between your lips — teeth clenching down onto the salty-sweet lace. 

It was humiliating, degrading; but when was it not? You craved it, the way he treated you. That feeling of being owned, completely surrendering yourself to another person. He made you need that.  

“Look at that, always so wet for Daddy.” 

His palms splayed out against the flesh of your thighs, he pushed them apart, spreading you open and putting you on display just for him. 

Your heart was racing, the thrill of being caught at any moment thumping adrenaline through your veins. He could sense it, lips twitching into a satisfied smirk as he watched your eyes flit frantically back and forth between him and the door. 

“D’you have any idea how much I wanna drag you back in there and fuck you on that table. Make them both watch, show them that you’re mine?”

Your moans muffled by the material stuffed between your teeth, two thick fingers stretching out your cunt as he unbuckled his pants — you shook your head. 

You knew you had an effect on him, you knew he couldn’t stop himself from touching you, from creeping into your room late at night. But the way he looked at you now, the burning intensity in his eyes; it shook you to your core. 

“If I had the time Princess, I’d eat that slutty little pussy right here. Make you gush all over Petey Boy’s car. He make you come as hard as Daddy does?” 

Frantically, you shook your head from side to side. Peter had never even so much as grabbed your ass, but you’d riled Bucky up to the point of insanity. A man on a mission to prove just who you belonged to. 

“No? You've sure changed your tune.” 

You watched as he pumped his thick cock in his palm, the tip of him nudging against your clit, your pussy twitching. 

“Daddy’s gonna fuck the attitude right outta you, so stay quiet and keep those legs open for me.” 

Your arms hooked beneath your knees, thighs spread wide, you barely had time to brace yourself before his cock split you open inch by inch. 

You’d expected him to rut into you with excruciating force, to take you roughly. So when he thrust into you with slow, patient strokes; you could do nothing to hide the curiosity on your face. 

“I know you know who fucks you the best. You just love riling Daddy up, don’t you? Get so - fuck - goddamn jealous of Mommy.” 

Your head lulled back as his dick dragged against the throbbing walls of your cunt, his thumb finding your clit while he caressed your breasts with his free hand. 

It was too much, too much tenderness, too good. 

You hated yourself for wanting it. The new sensation of his knuckles softly grazing the hollow of your throat as he undulated his hips against your pelvis, hitting spots inside of you you didn’t even know existed. 

“You know what you do to me, Baby? Look at me.” 

Baby. 

Bucky leant forward then, elbows either side of your head on the hood, balls deep inside you as he ground his hips into yours at a torturously slow pace. 

“I got you all spread open wide for me, and my fuckin’ wife is right next door. She could walk in here right now and fuck, I still wouldn’t stop. You know how fucked up that is?” 

It was nonsense, the broken words falling from your panty stuffed mouth, heat rising in your belly when he pulled out completely and slid on home once again. 

He fit you perfectly; there was no doubt about it. The way your cunt wrapped around his dick, it was fucking sinful how perfect it felt. Sparks of pleasure shooting through your core as he rubbed tiny, delicate circles over your swollen clit. 

“Tell me how much you want me.” Bucky ripped the panties from your mouth, shoving them in his pocket as you licked your dried out lips. “Need’ta hear you say it. Come on, Princess.” 

You’d never seen it before, the needy side of him, the way he practically whimpered when your pussy clenched around his girth, his hand gently squeezing your thigh while the other tentatively worked your sensitive nub. 

You tried to speak, tried to find the words he so desperately needed to hear — mouth hanging open in sheer confusion. 

“You’re not coming until you tell me, and we’ve been gone a while…” 

He halted inside you, only the tip of him nestled between your pussy lips, thumb hovering over your clit and a soft, yet entirely serious look gracing his gorgeous face. 

“I—I want you, Daddy.” You yielded, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Your hand flew to your mouth, muffling the yelp as he slammed back into you in one brutal motion — slowly withdrawing and circling your clit with the tip of his dick. 

“Again.”

“I want you, Daddy.” Insistent this time, no tremble in your voice, hips winding down towards his length, eager to have him back where he belonged. “Only want you, Daddy.” 

There was no hint of a lie in your tone, and as he fucked you - possessive and hungry - you wondered how any other man could ever match him. 

Sprawled out on the hood of Peter’s car, legs hooked over Bucky’s shoulders, you begged and panted; nearing closer and closer to sweet release. 

“You do, don’t you? You belong to me, Princess. Daddy’s all the man - shit - you need.” 

Garbled words choked in your throat, the breath punched from your lungs when he pinched your clit roughly with his fingertips, stars dancing behind your eyelids as pleasure twisted in your abdomen, limbs shaking and numb. 

Pathetic whispers of daddy, daddy, daddy had him slamming into you, unforgiving and merciless while he chased his own orgasm. 

“Fuck lookit you, fallin’ apart on poor Parker’s car, cunt full’a Daddy. Wanna fill you up so bad Princess, but I’ve got a better idea.”

You felt the hollow emptiness of his withdrawal, hazy eyes flickering open to catch sight of him; teeth bared, fist furiously pumping his cock, white, hot spurts of come smattering against the already sopping flesh of your swollen, fucked-out pussy lips. 

“Bucky! Darling, where are you?”

You panicked, hopping down off the hood and scrambling to push your skirt back down your aching thighs. 

“Fuck, gimme my underwear.” You hissed, holding out your hand as you bounced on your heels. 

“Nuh uh, Princess. You’re gonna sit there all night next to Peter, who seems like a real nice kid by the way, with my come all over you. Be real hard to forget who’s little cockwhore you are then, won’t it?”

You watched, dumb struck as he casually tucked himself back into his pants, swiping the wine bottle from the counter and making his way to the door. 

“Hurry now, we’ve kept our guest waiting long enough don’t you think?” 

With a wink and a sardonic smirk, Bucky disappeared through the door, your Mom’s soft laughter ringing in your ears through the wood. 

Dinner was surprisingly a lot less awkward than you expected, aside from the jabs from Bucky thrown in your direction every now and again. But you’d much rather he targeted you than Peter. 

Sitting with Bucky’s come smothered between your thighs made the guilt in your gut throb every time Peter’s soft fingers found the bare flesh of your knee beneath the table. 

No matter how much water you chugged, your mouth was dry throughout, your instincts driving you to get through the meal without choking and needing to excuse yourself.

As the evening drew to a close, your Mother tipsy and insisting that Peter come back to visit again the following week, you couldn’t wait to get him out of there and wipe away the mess from between your legs. 

“Parker, you ever play golf?” Bucky asked as Peter pulled on his jacket. 

You couldn’t believe the audacity of him, shame and fury eating at you as he played the perfect, welcoming parent.

“Uh, a little from time to time.” He answered, looking down at you with a proud smile as he sensed an invitation coming. It killed you, the sweetness on his features. You didn’t deserve an ounce of it. 

“I’ll get your address from our girl, huh? Pick you up Saturday, say, just after lunch?” 

Our girl. 

It made you cringe, chewing on your bottom lip as you took hold of Peter’s hand and led him to the garage where you’d been full of your Stepdad’s cock just an hour earlier. 

“Yes, that’d be great Mr Barnes. Thank you!” 

“Please, call me Bucky.” 

You couldn’t stand it any longer, making your way to the garage while Peter trailed behind you saying his goodbye’s.

He kissed you softly, and it made you want to weep—the way his hands cupped your cheeks, his thumbs stroking against the corners of your mouth. When he pulled away, the look of adoration on his face had your heart skipping a beat. 

This was what you needed.

This relationship was healthy. Safe. Right. 

So why did it feel so wrong? 

What you had with Bucky could never go anywhere, would never progress to more than secretive fucks and risky situations. 

“Your Stepdad seems like a decent guy, but he’s really hard on you huh?” 

“You have no idea.”