#oh you called the police on the man running down your street naked waving a machete? fucking Karen

[bilboyagathechickenfootedhobbit]

I feel like the whole Karen thing started as a way to mock and silence and discredit middle-aged women. The first time I heard it used it was when a white woman had called the police on some Black people having a BBQ, which like, yes, that was massively shitty. And it wasn’t cool of her to do that and it was most likely rooted in racism and she rightly earned the criticism leveled at her. But then I heard it used whenever a middle-aged white woman expressed ANY concern over ANYTHING. Suspicious man in a hoodie lurking outside the girls soccer practice at the local high school? I’d be concerned. But if I say anything, I’m labeled a Karen. Male customer being aggressive with the workers and intimating violence? Better not call the police you fucking Karen. Maybe he has mental health issues, you bitch. As if his mental health issues make it acceptable for him to commit violence all willy-nilly with no consequences.

Older women have a lot of knowledge to share and a lot of times the concern they express is coming from a place of personal lived experience. But you get all these men and pick-me’s who want to brush off her very valid concerns and so they call her a Karen and then everyone knows not to listen to her because she’s just some old, racist white bitch who wants to ruin everyone’s fun, even if said fun is putting innocent people in danger. It plays off the idea media sells younger women that older women are just jealous of them. We aren’t. We’ve been where you are and we’ve made mistakes that cost us dearly and we want to impart advice to you to help you keep from making the same mistakes. But men know that if younger women listen to older women, the jig is up. So they label us Karens and with one word, invalidate anything we say.

To me, it’s more insidious than just “let’s use women’s names as insults because we don’t like them.” There is very much a reason why there is no male equivalent to Karen. It’s because Karen (and now pretty much any older sounding female name) is deliberately used to silence women and deprive younger generations the chance to meaningfully connect with older women and their wealth of lived experiences. Think about it, where would feminism be if we weren’t so utterly disconnected from the generations of women that went before us? Silencing and belittling older women ensures that younger women won’t listen to them. It ensures that whatever progress each generation of women makes, the next will have to do all over again. There is no continuity in feminism from generation to generation because men work to keep us at odds with one another. Men don’t want to silence men, so that’s why Chad evolved from an insult to high praise. It’s why if it’s not Karen, it’s Janet, and if not Janet, Esther, and if not Esther, it’s Nancy. There will always be another name for them to call us to keep us silenced and separated.

Maybe we ought to reclaim Karen the way they reclaimed Chad. Start calling your girlfriends Karen’s when they stand up to injustice. Start calling them Karen’s when they help their community. When they look beautiful (which let’s be real, that’s always) tell them they’re channeling their inner Karen. Make Karen a beautiful thing to be; strong and capable and compassionate and driven. Then when someone calls you a Karen and you smile and say “Wow! Thanks!” It will fuck up their little lizard brain and make them short circuit.

Does anyone else think it’s weird that basic female names are insults now. Like it started with Karen but it’s bled into nearly all female names. When someone is talking about a fictitious generalization of annoyances they experience and they attach a female name as a joke. Like I saw a post recently that said something to the effect of “I hate when old people go on long rambles when I’m just trying to do my job. I’m not your therapist Janet” I agree with your point here but why are we attaching a female name to this for no reason. What about the name being female makes it inherently evil. Is it because it’s commonly associated with older women? Why isn’t there a male equivalent to “Karen”?

My friend recently said she doesn’t like the vitriol toward the name Karen because all Karens she has met were nice. Then she threw out a couple other generic female names she thought were much eviler and asked my opinion. I told her my opinion was that I don’t attach morality to names just because they’re names usually given to female babies.

[alfredosauce50]

Of beasts and men [Hybrid 2p! America x reader]

Synopsis: And to think that godforsaken animal rescue center was to blame. You were supposed to find a dog to adopt, not a creepy furry who showed up naked at your door! Turns out, his shapeshifting abilities got him in some hot water with the police. And the rescue center owner. It’s pretty self-explanatory. Wordcount: 3, 290 The reader is referred to as she/her.

“You’re fired!” A gruff voice screamed outside a diner a few blocks down. “And don't come crawling back to me when you need my help! Not again!”

The shouts caused his ears to prick up, so he turned his head to the sound and flipped the man off. Though one had to wonder if he was a man. Yes, he stood on two legs, but he was covered head to toe with shaggy brown fur, and he had the head of a bull.

“No, I quit! Nobody fires me. Your loss, baby!” He yelled, baring his canines in a wide smile. When the other fumed in response, a jet of steam shot through his nostrils to blow his gold nose ring forward. Then, they stomped their foot and kicked the dirt below. He froze. “Oh shit.”

“I'll skewer you like a kebab!” They roared, rearing their head back before lunging forward to start charging at him. A single glance of those sharp horns was enough to send him running. So he fled, dashing through the narrow marketplace while gritting his teeth. Pushing past members of the public, he never stopped knocking over random objects in his way.

Crates, baskets, and fruit stalls in his path were bulldozed, alerting nearby swordsmen in blue jackets.

“Hey, you there! Stop running!”

He could hear their paws and hooves hot on his tail, so he lowered himself onto all fours and morphed. Sprinting all the way to the edge of the city, he disappeared into an alleyway. His life was a culmination of terrible decisions, but this probably took the cake. He knew exactly where this system of alleys led to, but he never slowed down to look back.

There was nothing left for him in the beast kingdom.

Dashing out of the enclosure of walls, he rammed into a dumpster and fell to the ground with a heavy thump. “Ah, shit...” He rolled onto his back and outstretched a paw to stare at it. “Maybe it isn't too late to be adopted. Ha!” The thought made him laugh, but it came out as a high-pitched wheeze. “Who am I kidding? I'm not a damn pet.”

“Hey, is that a red Doberman?”

He widened his eyes and sprung up on all fours. Pricking his ears to the two men standing at the street outside, he shook his head in regret. Like a deer caught in the headlights, they shined their torch on him and lit up his black irises with fear.

“Wow, you're right! Look at its fur! It's got a beautiful rusted color to it!”

“I can't believe it's a stray. We should take it back to the rescue center.”

The next thing he knew, he was sitting in a small cell. A metal gate slammed shut and locked him in. A few minutes later, he was still processing everything that had happened. He just got caught by a bunch of humans. “Did I jinx myself?” Jumping up and scrambling to the gate, he pressed his snout against the wires and held it with his paws--a rather human-like action and odd sight.

“Let me out, let me out dammit!” He yelled, pulling the wires back and forth to make it rattle. “This is a beast rights violation! I demand a lawyer!” What should have been coherent sentences left his mouth as a string of violent barks.

An attendant entered the hall and smashed a baton against a pole. “Oi, settle down! Keep that up and nobody will want you!”

The dog pulled away and fell onto his behind. Then, it let out a defeated scoff. “Nobody would want me anyways. Just do yourself a favor and let me rot on the streets.”

Upon hearing those soft whines, the attendant lowered his arm and walked off. “Atta’boy. Now go take a nap or something.”

And nap he did, having given up on escaping--for now. Laying his head on the cold, hard ground, he fluttered his tired eyes to a close. The next morning when he came to, his nose twitched to an unfamiliar scent. It radiated in waves from the fingers on the other side of the gate. Human fingers.

When he glanced up, someone was crouching in front of him and holding out their hand. “What about this one, Jerry? Is he up for adoption?” They asked with a small smile decorating their lips. Sitting up excitedly at that, he wagged his tail. Anything to get out of here. I'll figure out where to go later. “Aw, I think he understands me!”

“Hm, I suppose he is. But he's got a nasty temper, that one. You might wanna rethink your choice.”

He watched the hope fade from their eyes. “Oh, seriously? That's too bad...” Then, they stood up with a sigh. His tail swished to a stop and slumped. That attendant was right in the end, after all.

“And I thought I could get scary dog privileges. Maybe I should stick with smaller sizes...”

The pair made their way down the hall to look at the other species the center housed, much to his disappointment. “Cheer up! We've got tonnes of other big dogs for you to consider. Not all of them will be fussy living in small spaces. You said you lived alone, didn't you?” His ears perked up at that.

“So long as you take them out on walks, they'll be fine.”

“Maybe. But I might have to go home and take some measurements. These dogs were a little bigger than I expected.” Soft laughs echoed, followed by a door creaking open.

“Totally understandable. You come back another day, eh?”

The door clicked shut, leaving him to his own devices. A single thought occurred to him, and it repeated in his head over and over until it drove him mad. He needed to get out of here. Before some other human set their eyes on him. But how? That question was promptly answered when a chill ran down his spine.

His fur shivered and puffed up as he slowly grew in size.

“Oh crap, I'm out of juice!” As his limbs began to stretch, so did his paws. Soon, they began to resemble fingers, and his panic reached an all-time-high when he realized he was standing on two feet again. That wouldn't have been a problem if he wasn't where he was.

He was stranded in the human world in his beast form.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” Looking down to the spot between his legs, he gawked at another unwelcome discovery. Not only was he locked in a tiny cell, but he was also buck naked! It was only a matter of time before the attendant returned and found him like this. Regardless of his appearance, he was more than certain this warranted the police getting involved.

He already screwed up enough as it was. He definitely couldn't afford to get in trouble with the law in the human world too.

So he resorted to escaping by force. Taking a few steps back, he rammed into the lock. After a few attempts, he smashed through the gate and skidded to a stop. Without a shred of hesitation, he whipped his head to the door and charged right through it. Bursting into the front office, the receptionist screamed at his sudden arrival.

Then, they screamed even louder when they processed just what they were seeing. A humanoid dog.

The sheer volume of their shrieks made his ears tremble. “Oh my god, would you shut up already? I have good hearing, you know?”

Upon hearing him speak--a surefire sign he was indeed human--they reached for the phone beside them. Then, they talked frantically into the speaker, mentioning something along the lines of a naked creep in a fursuit. Now, he had no idea what that strange device was, but he was pretty sure they were alerting the authorities.

“Uh oh.”

For the second day in a row, he was chased by cops through a public sphere. That was one thing that didn't change, even if his setting certainly did. Towering buildings and skyscrapers loomed over him from all directions. Strange lights, posters, and moving pictures bombarded him with seizure-inducing colors.

Even then, he had no chance to take it all in when he was too busy fleeing. “Gah, get out of the way, get out of the way!” He barked.

Shoving through the people crowding the edges of the wide street, he stumbled right in front of a heavy-duty truck barreling at him at thirty miles an hour. He had been so determined to get away from the hoard of humans, he never realized where he wound up.

Before he could be sent flying, he gritted his teeth and jumped out of the way while it swerved into a telephone pole.

Briefly turning back to process the damage he'd done, shock filled him to the brim as he processed the scene of devastation that unfolded before him. But he couldn't linger on it for too long.

“That's the guy! Get him!”

He had to get out of here. But where was he supposed to go?

His nose twitched to a familiar scent. It was the person from this morning! And if he wasn't wrong, he recalled that they lived alone. So he followed the smell, finding himself standing outside of an apartment complex of some kind.

Setting down your things after that short and unproductive trip, you flopped down on the couch and turned on the TV. Police sirens wailed in the distance, but you paid them no mind. Whoever they were chasing, the fugitive was sure to be caught soon enough. Little did you know, you were about to become their accomplice.

A few crisp knocks sounded on the other side of your front door. Without tearing your gaze from the screen, you slid on your slippers. “Coming!” You called. Slowly making your way to answer it, whoever it was that decided to bother you on this fine Sunday morning, you peeked through the peephole to see a pair of tall red ears. Dog ears.

“Huh?” Unlocking the door and creaking it open, albeit only slightly, you poked your head out in confusion. Standing there in all his glory, or its glory, was an anthropomorphic Doberman. If it weren't for these circumstances you met them under, you would have noticed they were a spitting image to the red Doberman in the rescue center. Instead, you were more compelled to fixate on other details.

When he realized where you were staring, he covered himself and grinned sheepishly.

“Uh... Happy birthday?”

The color drained from your face until you were paler than a sheet of paper. Then, you screamed.

He reflected a similar panic, and before you could shut the door in his face, he lunged forward into the frame and pried it open. “Wait, just hear me out! I'm in a bit of a tight spot here!” Given his physical advantages, he triumphed rather easily and forced himself into your home. All you could do was watch, but that didn't mean you couldn't keep screaming.

Rearing his head back as he covered his trembling ears, he shot his arms around you and clamped a hand over your mouth. “Stop screaming for God's sake! I've had it enough with the screaming today!” When you felt his fur against your lips, you only struggled and thrashed harder out of fear.

Regardless of his strength and stature, he couldn't do this all day.

So he tried morphing again. Rather than changing into the dog you saw earlier in the morning, he assumed a form closer to yours. His rusted red fur disappeared along with his tail. The long snout that pressed against your face shortened, and eventually, the arms that held you hostage were human. Or at least, they gave off that impression with his tanned, hairless skin.

You could argue that his transformation made the situation a little less bizarre. A little more manageable. So yes, you stopped moving. Now that you weren't resisting, he assumed you calmed down enough for him to let you go. What a big mistake that was.

The second you were freed, you punched him square in the jaw.

“Gh-!” An explosion of pain spread through his cheek. Turning back to you with teary eyes, he gripped the spot you took the liberty to abuse. “What the hell was that for?!” He spluttered.

“For being naked, you idiot!” You fumed through a blush.

“I thought we already moved past that!”

“We'll move past it once you put some clothes on!”

A little less bizarre? Who were you kidding? His sudden change in appearance only signaled to you he wasn't just your typical creep in a fursuit. As you mulled over the thought, a grim expression contorted at your features. Was this karma for changing your mind about that Doberman? A supernatural reckoning you so deserved for walking away? Needless to say, it was something worth discussing over some food.

“Thanks for the sweatpants, by the way! I'll return it to you later.” Kicking back in a chair, he started snacking on what he found in your pantry.

You avoided his gaze. He stood at least five inches taller than you, and he was certainly bigger than you were. And in more ways than one. “... You can keep it.”

Watching a dog munch on chocolate was not the most comfortable thing to see, either. The same could be said for his hands that picked through a candy box. “Wow, these are great! We don't have stuff like this back where I live.” He mused, throwing another chocolate-covered almond into his mouth. You tensed up.

“Wait, are you saying you've never had chocolate before?” Leaning forward and slamming your hands down on the dining table, you darted your eyes over his unreadable expression for any signs of discomfort. “I can't believe I let you eat it! Just because you can talk and everything!”

“Wha'dya mean I can talk? Of course I can talk!”

Maybe letting him rummage through your pantry was a bad idea.

He licked around his snout and huffed. “Anyway, sure I've eaten it before. Just nothing this good. What did you guys do to this, huh?” You breathed out a sigh of relief at that and sat back down. So you didn't accidentally poison your guest. Some guest he was, though. His name was strangely more down-to-earth than his otherworldly origins.

“Well, it's processed.”

“Processed, huh? I have no idea what that means.” He turned the box over and squinted at the label. “Huh? What language is this?”

“Japanese.”

His brows knitted together and he looked deep in thought. “Hm. I don't know what that is either.”

You laughed under your breath. “Duh. From what you've told me, it wouldn't be wrong to say you were born yesterday.”

“Oi, I'll have you know I was born at least a year ago!”

Allen, the runaway beast, had left his homeworld for the human one. Though chased out was the more accurate way to put it. There was nothing left for him back there, and his only hope of starting over was to take refuge in a foreign land. Perhaps not forever, but at least until he figured out where to go from here. That was what he had in mind.

“I'm not too concerned about you learning anything new. You'll be leaving soon, so.” Standing up with a content smile, you made your way to his side and patted him on the shoulder. The action prompted him to glance up at you with a full mouth. What you said next, however, would make him spit everything out. “You can't stay the night, Allen.”

He spewed almond bits all over the table, much to your disgust. “Wait, what?! I thought you were gonna let me stay! And not even just for a night, maybe for a week or two!”

You gawked in disbelief. “Are you crazy?! I'm not taking you in just because of your sob story. I'm not made of money, you know!” But that wasn't quite it, either. You were prepared to raise a dog, a big one at that, for protection purposes. The problem wasn't money.

The problem was that he wasn't human.

His ears drooped and he shot you his best puppy dog eyes he could muster. But you stayed strong. It was what he later added that jabbed at your strong resolve. “Aw, come on. Weren't you planning to adopt a dog like me? What's the difference?” Allen pouted. The sound of him reiterating exactly what was on your mind made you freeze up.

“It'll be the same as having a pet, I swear! Maybe even better--I know how to use a toilet!”

“Of course you know how to use a toilet!” You interjected, pulling away shortly to let out a sharp, frustrated sigh. “You're not a pet, Allen. You're a person, well, a dog person. You're not helpless without an owner! And what if somebody hunts me down and for keeping you here?” As much of a point you had, he didn't stop there.

Everything in his life boiled down to this moment. If he couldn't convince you to let him stay, there was no saying where he would end up. So he would do everything in his power to give you that one last push.

Standing up from his chair, he morphed into a human. Or tried with what was left of his energy. While his red ears and tail remained, there was nothing else reminiscent of the beast he was. “If you're worried about what I am, then I'll stay like this. Without the ears and tail, I mean.” His furry appendage swished at that.

“And I'll help you with house chores. I'm more capable than I look, I promise!”

You furrowed your brows and sighed for what felt like the tenth time that day. You couldn't believe it, but he was steadily chipping away at your resolve. So you turned away. “Mm, I don't know. This is a lot to ask from someone, especially if you aren't helping with the bills.”

Allen lit up, sensing your change of heart. So he jumped in front of you. “I'll do anything to make up for it!” He grinned, his energetic outburst catching you off-guard. There was something about his body language and attitude that perfectly embodied a loyal dog eager to please its owner. It was probably because of that tail of his that wagged with great gusto.

Among other things, you supposed.

“I'll be everything you need! A pet, a bodyguard, househusband, whatever you like!” Your attention was piqued at the mention of bodyguard. But when you processed the rest of his sentence, you lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Who said I needed a househusband?” You frowned.

Allen blinked. “Was that too much?” He grinned toothily. “Then how about a live-in boyfriend?”

With every shred of your willpower, you held back the urge to punch him. You already bruised him enough for today. “If you want me to consider taking you in, make me something for lunch! If it's acceptable, I might let you stay.” Shoving him into the kitchen at that, you pulled your apron off its hook and tossed it his way. “And do the dishes, too!”

“Alright, alright, jeez! Have some faith in me, won't you? I used to work in a diner, ya know?” The man swatted you gently with his tail. But you only pulled it much to his surprise.

“Used to. You probably got fired.”

Allen ignored that comment. “Watch where you touch, babe. You're moving a little too fast, even for me--Ow!”

[holylulusworld]

Ms. Bodyguard - The knife

Summary: Jensen is used to be the hero on his show. He’s not a coward, not at all - but when he gets attacked by an unknown man the studio insists on a full-time bodyguard. Specialist in protecting people while living with them - you agree to protect Jensen, but he doesn’t like the fact a ‘small’ girl shall protect him. Will you be able to protect the unwilling actor?

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Bodyguard!Reader

Characters: Clif Kosterman, Jared Padalecki

Warnings: angst, mentions of stalking/mental health problems (nothing graphic), blood, mentions of attempted murder, arguments, grumpy Jensen, mentions of injuries, language

Ms. Bodyguard Masterlist

A/N: Lyrics are taken from Paul Simon’s – Call me Al

* The reader likes to use songs as passwords (in this chapter Call me Al) and names of Greece Gods as special passcodes. Here’s a short explanation of what every code means:

Artemis – danger to life (client got attacked)

Ares – drop everything and run

Aphrodite – the client wants to be alone with a lover/love interest

Dionysus – the client is drunk/took drugs

Hades – client got hit/heavily injured/close to death

Hera – family of the client is in danger

Zeus – attacker sighted

Athena – backup needed/call the police

Poseidon – distraction needed to transfer the client safely

Nemesis – attacker/stalker down

Hephaestus – weapon needed/weapon got lost

“Hey-Betty.” Clif runs one hand down his face while he tries to make you answer his call. “I know you listen to me talking to your mailbox. I got a problem. - It’s Al…”

If you want an answer, do the whole song… An automatic answer replies and Clif takes a deep breath. He knows you do this kind of game to keep your clients safe but sometimes – it’s annoying to ‘play’ with you.

“Y/N come on. You know that only me got this number since you work alone. Give me a chance. I’ve got a client, or rather a good friend who’s in danger. Please.” 

If you want an answer, do the whole song… Again, Clif sighs but he’s got no other choice, so he clears his throat and starts singing the song you chose as his password.

If you'll be my bodyguard

I can be your long-lost pal

I can call you Betty

And Betty, when you call me, you can call me Al

While Clif sings the song, you hold your stomach, laughing hard as he is, by all means, an awful singer. Tears well up to your eyes and after weeks of being bitter you have a soft smile on your lips remembering the training with your friend.

If you'll be my bodyguard

I can be your long-lost pal

I can call you Betty

And Betty, when you call me, you can call me Al

The song ends and you listen closely, waiting for Clif to use a specific passcode to inform you about his current situation. If you trust anyone, it’s your old friend and training partner but in your business – you can never be careful enough or you end up dead.

“Passcode: Artemis,” Clif said the password for a worst-case scenario and you answer his call.

“Y/N, my friend got a serious problem. It’s red already. Are you still in Saudi Arabia or can you come back to the states?”

“I packed my stuff Clif and you can speak freely; the line is safe.” Rubbing your sore eyes, you sit up to listen to your friend’s explanations. “But let me tell you one more thing before you start – you are one awful singer.”

Clif huffs before he grins on the other side of the line. “Did you finish your ‘princess’ job? I don’t want to mess with another job.” 

A soft smile tugs at the corner of your lips hearing your friend is worrying about you and your job. “I heard she married…”

“Married and became a spoiled bitch. Let’s say we parted ways before I had to split her skull with my combat knife, Clif.” He chuckles lightly but this time, you can’t laugh with him. “Now back to your problem.”

“That bad, Riffle? What did she do?” Clif avoids your question and you wonder who is in trouble. 

All you know is he worked for a TV show over the last years, nothing else. It’s not as if you had the time to stay in contact with friends while protecting a princess.

“What happened, Y/N?”

“Husband said I am no longer needed. She agreed. End of story.” Looking at your gun on the nightstand your eyes sadden. 

“I protected her for six years, Clif. Now she married a rich guy and I am…disposable. I got hit by a bullet for her…twice. For years I believed she’s different, my friend, but in the end they are all the same.”

“I am sorry to hear, Riffle. Never thought that she’s a…” Clif gulps when you laugh bitterly. “A spoiled brat? At least I learned my lesson, buddy. No more princesses…”

“Great. My friend is a guy, actor and he got attacked by an unknown person last week. He tried to play it cool, but the studio is on high alert. A guy managed to sneak on set, waited for Jensen to be alone, and stabbed him.” Clif huffs at the other end of the line and you know he wants to take the blame.

“Clif, I love you but stop right now. It’s not your job, it’s the security guards’ job to keep the set safe. We both know how often people can sneak on set to take pictures, steal scripts, or crap. I will help you but only if you stop taking the blame.” Now you huff as Clif chuckles lightly.

“Okay, Riffle. When can I pick you up?” Glancing at your packed suitcases and duffle bags you try to remember which time it is in the US. “Y/N?”

“I will book a flight in the morning. Tell me where I have to be and send me his profile. I need to know everything about that guy, his family and working place. I need to meet him too before I agree to protect him.” You are adamant about your rules, so Clif agrees without arguing.

“I’ll send you the information to the FTP server. Give me three or four hours. The destination is Vancouver. I’ll pick you up and we can talk on our way. Do you know anything about Supernatural?”

“Did a ghost kick his ass or Bigfoot?” Smirking you hear Clif explaining he meant a TV show called ‘Supernatural’ and not the supernatural in general. 

Good thing your friend can’t see you as you roll your eyes at his explanation about the ‘cool’ show he’s working for.

“Clif, I did not watch TV for like six or seven years. Oh-fifteen years? That’s a freaking long time for a series, dude. Now let me have some sleep. I suggest you tell your friend to stay at the hospital. There are cameras, a security team and the cops will guard his room. Do not let him go home…”

“Got it, Y/N. Goodnight and thank you.” When Clif hangs up you sigh deeply. Tomorrow you will leave the land you called home for the last six years. Even worse – you will leave a friend, as she no longer needs you…

Reaching US ground for the first time in six years feels odd, strange even. Saudi Arabia was your home for so many years and being away from Soraya, the first client you would call family feels wrong, but you had to leave.

She lied to you. She betrayed you. She wanted you gone…

Her father called you to his office right before you were ready to head out to the airport, asking you why you quit as his daughter’s bodyguard out of the blue. 

You could’ve told him the truth, that his daughter is an ungrateful brat, but Abdallah was always good to you and doesn’t deserve to get into a fight with his daughter and son-in-law.

At first, he didn’t like the idea of having a woman around to protect his only child but with you, not being a man, he could be sure you can stay by her side in any situation.

It pained you to lie to him, but this was the last time you could protect your client. One last time you took the bullet when you told him you want a change of scenery. 

He looked at you with disgust and kicked you out of his office. Well, that’s what you get when you try to save his daughter. 

“Y/N!” Clif waves at you, a big smile on his face as you walk toward the exit. “Wait. I’ll take your bags.”

“Clif, don’t get me wrong. I know you are a gentleman and all, but I can carry my shit, okay. Now let’s get this straight. Your client is Jensen Ackles, he got attacked by a guy who blames him for fucking a z-list starlet and the cops didn’t get him so far.” Ignoring your speech Clif grabs your suitcases to place them into his car.

“Correct. Jensen had like two or three dates with that girl. They uh—Aphrodite* me a few times and after the third date they got into a fight.” Clif explains while you take notes. 

“She accused him of cheating on her, he yelled back they only fucked, and I drove her home while Jay stayed at the bar.”

“Okay. What happened next?” Opening the door to the passenger seat for you Clif tries to explain the girl started to stalk Jensen.

She called him daily, send disgusting messages, and nudes to his twitter account and stood in front of his house more than once.

“Did he call the cops?” Hopping into Clif’s car you watch him shakes his head. “Let me guess. Mr. Ackles didn’t want to look like the victim. So, he’s a macho?”

“Listen, he tried not to get her into trouble. Jensen believed she would cool off and stop with that shit she pulled. He changed his number, reported her doings to twitter, and told me, the security on set and his colleagues about it.”

“I assume she didn’t stop?” Your friend shakes his head while he pulls out of the parking lot. “It got worse?”

“Awful even. She came to set, naked only wearing a thong. She cut Jensen’s name into her stomach and we had to call the cops, an ambulance, and fight off the press.” 

Nodding you check the files Clif sent to you. “She’s at an asylum for four months and gets better. After she got medicated the girl realized not Jensen was her problem.”

“Maybe she lied? Maybe she’s behind the attack?” 

“We checked her contacts thrice, Y/N. I am not as good as you or your former team, but we normal bodyguards are not useless either.” Patting your friend's shoulder you give him a soft smile. “No one visited her or contacted her before the attack.”

“I know, Clifie. Relax. I would never thing low about you, okay. I just need all information to see the picture.” Clif keeps his eyes on the street while you scroll through the files. “No parents. No siblings. So, no angry family. No ex-boyfriends or husbands. Check.”

“She was a loner. The girl tried to help us, but no one came to her mind.” Clif explains as you shut off your iPad.

“No secret admirer sending her flowers or cards? No one claiming he was the one attacking your client?” Your friend shakes his head and you frown.

“That’s odd, Clif. I mean, if that guy did it to avenge that girl, he would’ve shouted it from the rooftops to get her attention.”

“I know, Y/N. That’s the reason I called you for help. This is…fishy. My instinct tells me something is off with that attack and the way Jensen met that girl. I don’t want to sound like a lunatic but…”

“Dude, only as you are paranoid doesn’t mean they are not after you.” Chortling you give Clif a wink. I will dig deeper and see what I’ll find. Let me call a friend of a friend.”

“C.I.A., F.B.I., or someone else?” Giving you side-glances your friend gulps when you whisper, ‘someone else’. “What will you have to do to ‘dig deeper’?”

“Nothing. That asshole owes me his life and balls.” You smile at Clif, but he can see it’s a fake smile. Whatever past you have with this man, you’ll never tell anyone.

“I don’t need another bodyguard, Clif. For fuck's sake! She looks like a tramp or schoolgirl!” Jensen yells when you enter the room with your friend.

No matter which insults he throws at you, your face remains stoic, your eyes are trained on his face and your posture never changes.

“I don’t need a little girl protecting me! I bet if she sees Jared that girl will go for a run.” Jensen gets out of the hospital bed, hissing as his wound still hurts and he refused to take pain meds.

“Jay-uh—hey!” A tall man enters the room, a knife in his hands, and before Clif, Jensen or the guy can blink you lunge out to twist his arms behind his back to pin the tall man against the wall, face first.

He struggles in your hold but there is no escape when you kick his legs apart.

“Y/N don’t kill him! That’s Jared, Jensen’s friend, and colleague!” Clif gasps and the man you still hold pinned to the wall nods eagerly.

“He had a knife!” Voice controlled; dominant you do not let go of Jared. “Why did he come into Mr. Ackles's hospital room, a knife in his hands?”

“Sorry, but that’s a knife made of chocolate. I thought it’s funny, but I guess, the joke is on me.” Jared huffs and you look at the knife which lies abandoned on the floor. 

“Okay, Jared. I will let you go but you will wait until I checked on the knife or you’ll feel my knife pierce your lung.” Warning the tall man, you reluctantly let go of him.

Clif already picked the ‘knife’ up only to break it into two halves. “Chocolate, Y/N.”

“Holy fucking shit!” Jensen gapes at you holding a combat knife in your hand. “Did you call for the Terminator?”

SPN Forever Tags

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@lilulo-12​​​

@theoneandonlymelol​​​​

@mblaqgi​​​​

@clawsandshotguns​​

@justsomedreaming​​​​

@cassiopeia-barrow​​​​

@its-the-timey-wimey-winchesters​

@mscarter213​​​​

@jo-like-josette​​​​

@mep6811​​​​

@prettydeaneyes​​​​

@rvgrsbrns​​​​

@deanwanddamons​​​​

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@matsumama​​​

@rynabarnesrogers-reading​​

@homeorbust​​

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

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags   

@spnfamily-j2​​​

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@deans-baby-momma​​​

@thefaithfulwriter​​​

@squirrelnotsam​​​

@roonyxx​​​

@neerness​​​

@deansgirl-1968​​​

@spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​​​

@butifulsoul125​​​

@lyinginthegingerlocks​​​​

@neen-illustrates​​​

@janicho88​​​

@woodworthti666​​​​

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@akshi8278​​​

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@ria132love​​​

@caligraphee​​​

@the-witch-in-silence​​​

@justanotherwinchester​​​​

@multisuperfandom​​​

@jason-todd-squad​​​​

@jadesupernatural​​​​

@psychicforest​​​​

@luciathewinchestergirl​​​​

@magssteenkamp​​​​

@palefiregiver​

@tranquility-or-chaos​​​

@jxackles​​​

@michellemxndes​​​​

@addictedtofictionalcharacters​​​​

@gabifernandessn​​​​

 @waywardrose13​​​

@team-free-will-you-idjiot​​​​​

@myopiamystical​​​

@rintheemolion​​

@isthatabutterfly​

@bluecornflowers​​​

@rosalynshields​​​

A/N: If your name is crossed out Tumblr won’t let me tag you.

[brokenkingdom-forgottenempire]

Safe With Me (McReigns)

One night Roman got jumped by a group of strangers.

Long ass fic ... 

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It was past midnight. Roman just got off his night shift as a barista. The café closed quite late that night, and they still had to do some extra cleaning inside the shop. The café would be closed for three days for the holidays so they did not mind spending extra time cleaning the floor and other utensils.. 

Roman sent a text to his boyfriend earlier to inform him. Drew tended to get worried whenever Roman arrived home late with no message. The café was owned by his friend, Seth, and Roman was more than happy to work there. Those two were best friends since high schools. Unlike Roman, Seth was married to Jon. Now, the three of them were more like family than friends. The café was busier earlier, people coming in and out to get their drinks, desserts and pastries. Seth handling the cashier, Roman and Becky were busy with the drinks, Sasha and Bianca baking and preparing the cakes and breads, Baron would served them. 

They all made a great team, and Seth would always tell his friends by the end of the day that this café would be nothing without them. Business had been great so they would have extra tips every night. Tonight was no different. The moment the gate was pulled down and locked, six of them were ready to go home, Roman observed as Sasha’s wife, Bayley, waited outside the shop, Becky’s girlfriend, Charlotte, was leaning against her car that she parked across the street, chatting with Bianca’s husband, Montez. Baron lived a block away from the café so he would walk home alone. The taller man was always so quiet around new people but he would rant to Roman and Becky about his boyfriend, Tyler once in a while. 

Roman smiled and bid Baron good night as the quiet man walked away and waved back at him. Jon was helping Seth loading some of the things he needed to bring back home at the backseat of their car.��“Are you sure you don’t want to send you home, Ro? I mean, we’re heading to the same direction, we can just drop you off in front of the block?” Seth asked. He quietly hoped Roman would agree, but the Samoan just shook his head. 

“I’ll be fine, Seth. Go home and rest, I’ll text you or Jon once I reach home,” Roman chuckled as Seth pouted but the younger man gave in. Seth knew it was useless to argue with his best friend, especially after midnight and Roman probably wanted to take a walk alone to clear his mind after a long day at the café. 

Seth and Jon hugged the bigger man before leaving, “Don’t talk to strangers, Roman. Call us if you need anything. I have my baseball bat with me in the trunk so they better don’t mess with my favourite man,” Jon hugged him tighter and Roman just gladly hugged back just as tight as he whispered ‘thank you’ to the other man. The couple then drove off, and Roman walked home alone. He had his phone in hand. The wind was colder tonight it sent shiver down Roman’s spine. The Samoan tugged his jacket closer to his body to shield himself from the winter night breeze. 

After walking about 10 minutes, Roman was a block away from his and Drew’s shared house. He checked his phone to see if Drew sent him anything. It was almost 12:30am. Before, Roman could make a turn to his place, a voice stopped him.

“Hey, sexy. Need us to accompany you tonight?” A male voice. Roman turned to look over his shoulder and saw a group of five men standing not far away from him. Judging from the bottles they were holding, Roman guessed none of them were actually sober. The Samoan did not say anything in reply and continued to walk away. He had his hair up in a bun as usual but sure they had mistaken him as a woman...with a built physique. Roman was taller and way muscular than them. ‘Drunk ass can’t tell gender apart,’ Roman thought to himself. 

Roman tried to ignore the group but suddenly a hand grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked him back. He yelped in surprise, and before he could defend himself felt a fist made a contact with his jaw. He could taste the metallic taste of blood on his tongue now. ‘Oh God,’. 

The Samoan struggled and clawed at the man’s arm who still had his hand in his locks. Roman was never a pro fighter but he could still fight back. He drew his fist back before punching the man above him right at the middle, causing him to double over and loosen the grip on Roman’s hair. Of course, it was far from over. Before Roman could run away two of the men from the group grabbed him. Punches and kicks landed on his body. Roman fell on the ground, him arms shielding his head from getting a kick on the face. His knees tucked close to his chest to reduce the impact of the hit. 

“Strip him,” another male’s voice ordered. Roman froze in his position. What.

Roman did not manage to protect himself before two men held him down, a pair of hands unbuckled in belt, and another pair forcefully tugged his jeans down. 

“No! Let me go!” Roman trashed around, trying to break free but the two drunk men had a strong grip on his wrists, a knee pressed him down hard by the chest, and hands wrapped around his neck, restricting his air. Roman coughed out blood but he still struggled. He was getting raped. Oh God, he was going to die. Drew would be so devastated. Oh God, Drew.. “D-don’t touch me!” Roman’s wheezed out when he felt cold, sticky hands grabbed his naked thighs. The hands on his neck tightened and he felt dizzy. Drew. He needed to go back home to Drew. Black spots began to appear, his eyesight blurred out by tears. He was choking. No air. Roman’s eyes rolled back into his head. 

Then he heard a ‘thud’. Something fell? Then another one. Then another. The hands on his neck were gone and air rushed back into his lungs. Roman breathed in greedily but he ended up coughing from the pain on his chest. His body was too weak to sit up. What happened? Roman tiredly opened his eyes only to see Drew standing next to him, swinging a hockey stick at another attacker’s head. Roman whimpered as he watched the stranger fell down on the ground not moving. 

“Roman! Jesus, baby, you’re bleeding! Don’t move, I’ll call an ambulance,” Drew’s voice was filled with fear. Roman looked up at his boyfriend, the Scottish man fished out his phone from his pocket, ready to dial. The Samoan reached up and grabbed Drew’s arm, tugging at it for attention. “What is it, babe? Can you see me? Can you breathe? Say something, love. Oh God, I should’ve waited for you outside-” Drew was rambling. He never rambled. Drew only did that when he was in a panic state. Roman persistently tugged the other man’s arm and Drew had to bend down closer. 

Drew did not get to ask before Roman pulled him down for a kiss. Drew held to hold himself back, he did not want to hurt his boyfriend further when he tasted blood on his own tongue. Drew was the first to pull back. Roman, with blood trickling down the corner of his mouth, smiled tiredly at him. “You came.” was all Roman could say after a while.

“Of course I came, you idiot!” Drew huffed out. His boyfriend was out of it. They probably hit him in the head, and now Roman was completely out of it. “Enough talking, you’re bleeding! We need to go to the hospital now. I’ll carry you,” Drew was ready to lift his 260 pounds boyfriend but Roman shook his head. 

“No. Don’t want hospital. I want you. I’m cold. My jeans-” 

“I pulled your jeans up earlier when you almost passed out. You’re cold because you’re lying on wet sidewalks. We’re going to the hospital,” Drew scooped him up easily but the sudden movement caused Roman to whimper in pain, his leg hurt. Did they break his leg too? His chest hurt. Despite all the pain he was feeling on his body, Roman would rather stay inside their bedroom, warm and safe, than to spend the night on hospital bed. 

“Baby, please, I don’t wanna go,” Roman slurred out his words. He was too tired. He hated the hospital. He just wanted to cuddle up with Drew, warm in their bed. He almost got raped He almost died out here. He just wanted Drew. 

The Scottish man sighed heavily before leaning in to kiss Roman on his forehead. “Ro, we need to get your head check. They hit you, your head is bleeding, they strangled you too, “Drew’s eyes unconsciously darted down to Roman’s neck. Red trace of the attacker’s fingers and some bruises were starting to get more visible on the Samoan’s bronze skin. The sight made Drew want to just crack the asshole’s skull with his hockey stick. “I just need to know that you’re okay, Please, let’s just go-” A loud police siren cut Drew’s pleading off. Roman shut his eyes tight when he heard it. It was too loud for him. The Samoan just curled further in Drew’s hold as if it would help to reduce his headache. When did Drew call them? 

“Are you two alright?” Sheamus’s voice. Their neighbour. Drew’s officemate too. “I called the cops when I saw Drew started swinging. The medic should be here soon too. Are you okay, Roman?” The Irish man asked. Roman nodded weakly and gave his best (bloody) smile. 

“I’m alright-”

“No, you’re NOT alright. Shut up,” Drew cut Roman off before he turned to look at their neighbour. “God, thank you so much, Shea. I didn’t know what would ‘ve happened if I didn’t come out to look for him. They almost-”

“But they didn’t. Roman is safe now, the cops are here. You saved him,” Sheamus gently patted the Scottish man’s shoulder, comforting his worried friend. Drew’s eyes were teary as he held Roman tighter in his hold. Using all the strength he had left in him, Roman wrapped his arms around his Scottish boyfriend, burying his head in Drew’s chest. He could hear Drew’s heart thumping against his ribcage, unsteady and fast. Roman just nosed Drew’s clothed chest, inhaling his boyfriend’s fresh-out-shower body gel helped to calm him down. He was safe. He was with Drew. Drew was here holding him. 

The ambulance arrived minutes after the cops did. Sheamus and a couple of officers had to restrain Drew from attacking the assholes who hurt Roman. The Scottish yelled something about they were lucky he did not crack their skulls open for touching his boyfriend. All five of the attackers were handcuffed and jammed at the back of the police van. 

Drew had reluctantly left Roman to the healthcare workers. They were patching the Samoan up, checking for any broken bones or internal damages. Fortunately, they found none. Roman had sprained his knee when he fell earlier. There was an open wound near his hairline. Black and blue patches began to appear around Roman’s neck but it was nothing serious. The wound did not need stitching. No concussion. The medic did advise him to go to the hospital for further checkups but Roman turned it down. No broken bones, no internal bleeding, he was fine. 

The Samoan was thankful when they told him the blood that he spat out earlier was from the cut inside his mouth when one of the assholes punched him in the face. There was still a throb of pain around his chest area whenever he inhaled too deep, he would end up coughing, but of the health worker ensured him his ribcage was alright. Roman lifted his head up when he saw an officer approaching him. He calmly answered the questions regarding the incident and if they did anything else to him. Roman just shook his head and turned to look at where his boyfriend was standing with Sheamus, also being interrogated by another police officer. 

Roman told everything from when he left the café, walked down the streets and met the group. How they attacked him, what he felt when he was losing consciousness. Roman did not realize when Drew got to him but he surprisingly did not flinch away when the Scottish man reached out and intertwined his fingers with Roman’s, holding him tight when Roman paused his story. The police officer was patience enough to let Roman had small breaks in between too. 

Once the Samoan had done telling his side of the story, the officer told the couple that they would handle everything else from now. The medic just told Roman to rest more and to report if there were any rising concerns especially his head and chest. The couple thanked the workers and before they could go, a familiar voice broke the peaceful silence of the night time.

“Where are those sonofabitch?! I’m going to f*cking murder them!” Jon yelled put, baseball bat in hand, ready to swing it at anyone at all. Some of the officers from earlier rushed to surround him. “Don’t touch me! Where’s Roman?!” Jon charged front to stand face-to-face against one of the officers who told his men to hold fire. 

“Jon! Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Please excuse my husband, he’s just worried-” Seth tried to pull Jon away from the cops. Some of them had guns in their hands, waiting for orders. Seth apologized over and over again before turning to calm his husband down. “Babe, please. Don’t do this. I don’t want anything to happen to you too,” Seth’s hand moved to stroke Jon’s face. The man with the baseball bat huffed and tucked his weapon away, arms crossing over his chest. 

“Seth! Jon!” The two men turned their heads when they heard Roman’s voice. Seth did not seem to bother when the officers tried to stop him as he ran to hug his best friend. 

“Jesus, Ro! What happened?! Drew called Jon earlier and told us you were attacked? Oh God, look at you! I should’ve forced you inside the car-”

“Seth, I’m fine. Breathe. Calm down. I didn’t mean to scare both of you. I’m okay now. Drew beat them up with the hockey stick.” Roman did not push Seth away and just tightened his hug when he felt Seth crying on his shoulder. The Samoan shushed the younger man, his head throbbed in pain but he ensured Seth that he was alright. 

“Next time, we’re not taking a ‘no’ from you, Ro. We’re driving you home or we’ll drag you home.” Jon’s voice made Roman turn his head. He did not realize Jon was standing so close to him at the side. Roman reached out and pulled Jon into a group hug. His strong arms wrapped around the couple as he tried to calm his still racing heart caused by the incident. 

“I’m sorry.” Was all Roman could say. 

Seth slapped his chest lightly at Roman’s apology. “Don’t apologize, you big goof! I’m just so glad you’re okay!” Seth’s eyes were still glassy, tears still leaked at the corners. Roman nodded in reply before pecking both of their foreheads. It had become his habit now. Even Drew knew about it. Speaking of Drew, the Scot just silently approached the trio, Sheamus was still with him, telling Drew how to make their area safer for all of them. 

Once the police officers and medics left, Drew and Roman invited them into their home for some drinks, and Roman just could not stop apologizing to his two best friends and their neighbour, Sheamus for causing all the trouble. Sheamus shook his head and patted Roman’s back, telling the Samoan that anyone would do the same if they saw their neighbour being attacked like that. Seth was still clinging onto Roman’s arm, and Jon had to convince Seth that they would visit Drew and Roman again tomorrow, and Roman needed to rest. That did it for Seth as the younger man slowly loosened his grip on Roman’s arm. 

Seth went to hug Roman and Drew once last time before they left. Jon did the same and thanked Drew for telling them because they both knew Roman would keep it to himself for the rest of his life with the excuse that he did not want to worry the couple. Sheamus bid everyone good night (or morning) and went back inside. 

Roman watched as Jon’s car drove away before he let Drew guide him back into their home. Drew’s arm wrapped protectively around his boyfriend’s waist. Once they were safely inside their bedroom, Drew wasted no time as he dragged Roman to lay down on top of him on their king sized bed. Roman did not protest and just wrapped his arms around Drew, holding onto him like an anchor. God, he almost got raped and died in the attack. 

“I love you,” Drew whispered.

“I love you too, baby. Thank you. I love you so much,” Roman moved up a little to kiss Drew full on the lips, deep and long. All the fear from earlier vanished, knowing that he was safe in here, with his favourite man. 

“I’m walking you home next time. Or Seth and Jon can drive you home. If I ever find out that you walk home alone again, I’m tying you to this bed. Screw your job at the café. Do you hear me?” Drew’s warm breath washed over Roman’s face. The older man just nodded silently. 

“Make love to me?” Roman asked suggestively before he moved to straddle Drew. The Scot just stared at his boyfriend as the Samoan spat on his hand to stretch his own hole. “Make me forget about them?” Drew did not need to be told twice. He stroked his dick as he watched Roman stretched himself open. Two fingers in, Roman began writhing in pleasure, causing him to moan shamelessly. The Samoan moved his hips up and down, riding his own fingers as he fixed his eyes at Drew’s blue ones, lust was evident in both of them. Roman did not want to remember the cold hands gliding up his bare thighs as his jeans were yanked down. He wanted to forget the smell of smoke and liquor as they held him down on the hard concrete ground. He wanted to forget fingers that wrapped around his neck, suffocating him to almost unconsciousness. 

Drew grabbed a small bottle of lube he kept on the nightstand next to their bed, and squirted some directly on his dick, making sure he would not hurt Roman. Drew gripped at the base of his dick as Roman moved to hover his hole right above the head, aligning them before the older man slowly eased down the fat length. 

“That’s it, baby. Take it all,” Drew’s deep voice was almost too much for Roman. The Samoan continued to slide down his boyfriend dick, whimpering as he felt the meat went deeper within him. Drew knew Roman did not like to take it slow, he would usually tell Drew to just shove it in, but he would let Roman lead tonight. He was not sure if Roman was in the right headspace for some rough sex either. 

“Ahh fuck, babe!” Roman cried out as he had finally seated on Drew’s dick, balls deep. The Samoan began grinding his hips, hole muscles massaging Drew’s hot meat. Drew’s head fell back as he groaned in pleasure. He really wanted to slam his dick hard inside of Roman but the band aid on the older man’s temple was set like a reminder for Drew to go gentle unless it was Roman who wanted it. 

“You feel alright, Ro?” The Scot asked, gently pulling Roman down to give him a kiss. Roman smiled and nodded his head as returned the kiss. “Promise you’ll tell if you feel lightheaded.” Drew planted a kiss on Roman’s forehead.

“I promise. Please fuck me hard, Daddy. I need it. Please.” The older man slowly lifted his hips and brought it down again on the thick length, grunting loudly as he felt the head went deeper and deeper every time he moved. 

“Get on your back, baby. We need to put less pressure on your knee.” Drew ordered, and Roman moved without arguing. He needed this. He needed Drew. The younger man grabbed both of Roman’s legs and spread them apart as he settled in between. Drew did not waste anymore time as he slid in almost smoothly, causing Roman to arch his back. Drew leaned in, capturing Roman’s lips with his, swallowing muffled moans as he began bucking his hips. 

Drew pulled his cock almost all the way out before he slammed it back into the Roman’s twitching hole. Their bedroom was filled with the sound of skin slapping skin. Roman’s long, ink black hair splayed on the white pillows. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the bedsheet tightly, almost ripping the fabric off. 

“Fuck, Drew! You’re so- ah - deep! So fucking deep. So good.” the man below panted, eyes rolling back when Drew hit his spot. 

“Fuck yes, baby. I want you to feel me. And only me.” Drew’s mouth trailed down on Roman’s back thigh, kissing the exposed skin and biting it. “I want your body to remember how my dick feels like. No one else can touch you. Only me. I’ll break them in half if they dare to even think about touching you. You’re mine, baby boy.” He moved to plant more kisses on Roman chest and down to his navel. The older man gasped when Drew teasingly bit the skin around his belly button. 

“Yes, Daddy, yes! Harder please!,” Roman’s voice cracked, feeling his prostate being assaulted over and over again by Drew’s hot rod. “Please, I’m about to come. Harder, baby.” His hands reached up to hold onto Drew’s biceps when Drew sped up and ram into his boyfriend harder. Roman’s breath hitched at the pleasure. His mouth fell open in a silent scream. 

“Come for me, Roman,” Drew’s voice was enough to bring Roman to the edge. He came without touching his dick. Ropes of cum spurted out every time Drew slammed in, and it landed on Roman’s stomach and chest. That was one intense orgasm for Roman, his body was sensitive all over. However, Drew had not come yet. He gently hooked Roman’s legs on his shoulders, big hands spreading the fat cheeks more before he began thrusting in again. “Ooh fuuucckkkk. Slow, babe, please. You’re getting too deep.” Roman’s whispered plead was it for Drew. The Scots continued to fuck harder and deeper, milking more pleads and cries of mercy from his older boyfriend.

After several thrusts, Drew came inside Roman, painting the walls inside white. Roman whimpered as he tried to milk Drew’s spent cock more with his oversensitive ass muscles. 

Before pulling out, Drew leaned in to kiss Roman once again, stopping few times to tell Roman ‘you’re safe here, baby’, and ‘I love you’. Roman just hid his face at the crook of Drew’s neck, he breathed in the Scottish man’s scent and he knew no one was going to hurt him. Drew was there with him. Drew would protect him. 

Drew dragged Roman to their bathroom, helping the older man to take a quick shower. Once they were done, Drew pulled Roman back down into their bed, tucking the older man’s head under his chin. Roman’s arms came to wrap around Drew’s waist while Drew’s big arms pulled Roman closer to his chest. They fell asleep like that... in each other’s arms. 

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Extra Part 10

U.A. a school for students to learn how to become the best Pro-Hero. When young Y/n Midoriya returns from her traveling to be accepted through recommendation. What awaits her when she meet the explosive blonde Katsuki Bakugo

Words- 4471

Katsuki Bakugo x Midoriya!Reader, Izuku Midoriya x Cousin!Reader

Warning-Spoilers from show and Hero license Arc, and fighting scenes.

Series Masterlist

After everyone had joined they continued on with the exam, “Oh, right for the hundred of you who passed the first test, please turn your attention to the screen,” The screen in front of you lights up showing the arena.

“It’s the test arena,” Izuku comments.

“What happens next?” Uraraka questions. You all watch as buildings begin to explode as well as other parts of the area get destroyed.

“What the hell.” You watch as structures collapse destroy the entirety of the arena.

“There’s only one more round to the exam. Your goal is simple: Undertake rescue exercises and save the bystanders who are trapped in these disaster sites.” The announcer explains the next exam.

Both Kaminari and Mineta look confused “Save the what now?”

“Bystanders. We learned about them in class, remember?” You try to spark their memories, “They’re people at a disaster scene.”

“It can also simply refer to innocent citizens on the street.” Momo adds.

The announcement continues. “Use this time to show us how you will carry out successful rescue procedures once you receive your provisional licenses. Treat this as though it were a real thing.”

“Look on the screen.” Shoji points out

“Little kids and old people?” Sato gasp.

“That’s so dangerous, why are they here?” Mineta adds.

“These specialists have been trained as professional ‘persons in need of rescue’ They’re very popular introducing the ‘Help Us Company’, also known as HUC for short”

Sero crosses his arms looking at the Tv “So, they’re basically actors, I guess?”

“It’s the kind of job you never think about, ribbit.” Asui points out

“But a necessary one in our world, since they support our hero training.” Ojiro noted

“The HUC bystanders have dressed up like injured victims and will be located throughout the disaster site. We'll be judging on how well you keep them safe as you go about your mission, We’ll be scoring you on a point system. If you have more points than the benchmark at the time the exercise ends then you pass the exam. We’ll start in ten minutes and take care of any necessary preparations now.”

Most of your classmates head off to go prepare for the next part of the exam. You head over to one of the tables to grab some water and a quick snack. You could feel a presence next as you went to go reach for some water when they grabbed the one you were going to. You turned and saw it was one of the students from Ketsubutsu you think you met earlier. He hands you the water bottle and you nod confused you could have grabbed it.

“Uh thanks..”

“Yo Shindo.” You nod using your quirk to get a piece of milk bread to come to you as you were too lazy to walk over. Shindo watches in awe as the bread floats to you and you grab it taking a bite from it.

“Um bye.” You said turning around heading towards your classmates, he rushes to follow you getting in front of you.

“Uh your quirk is pretty cool.” He stumbles over his words trying to remain calm in front of you.

“Thanks only gets better with training.” You state taking a sip of your water.

“I’m Yo Shindo.” He holds out his hand.

“You already said that earlier.” You smile when his face turns red and he stumbles over his words rubbing that back of neck.

“It’s fine really, I’m Y/n Midoriya.” You shake his hand giving him a smile he nods. 

“I didn’t see you at the sports festival, did you not participate?” He questioned not remembering your face on the TV.

“I only joined this summer, I used to travel so I got in through recommendation.” You explained and he looked more impressed.

“Wow.” He looked at you as if you created the stars.

You heard shouting and you turned seeing Kaminari and Mineta harassing Izuku, you sigh turning to him. “Sorry I gotta deal with stuff I’ll see you around during the exam.” You give him a wave, him giving you one back and you make your wave to the boys. You throw out the empty bottle, finishing up your bread as you use your quirk to pull Denki and Mineta away from your cowering cousin. “What the hell is going on?” You look at the two boys glaring at Izuku.

“Midoriya got to see that smoking hot babe’s body naked.” Mineta pointed over to a girl from Shiketsu still waving. You release them from your hold pinching your bridge nose sighing.

“I don’t have time for this boy drama.” You turn away from them, Izuku crying out in distress as they go bombarding him again.

“Oh, hey it’s Shiketsu.” Kirishima munches on a piece of bread as their school comes over to you all.

“Bakugo.” Mora greets him. He was the one who was covered in hair

“What.” Bakugo grumbles,

“I think you met Shishikura in the test. My classmate with the flesh-molding power?” 

Bakugo looked uninterested “Yeah. I took him out.”

“I thought so. I’m guessing he may have acted rudely, or perhaps offended you. He has a tendency to try and push his own values onto others. He probably couldn’t help it in your case, since you’re pretty famous. I apologize for him, I’d like to build a good relationship between our schools.” The way he spoke chilled you and it was hard to tell his expression with all that hair.

“I-I guess he wants to be friends?” Mineta shuddered

“So he says.” Izuku is exactly as fearful, “But the way they were fighting, it didn’t seem that way.”

Mora nods walking away “Anyway that’s it.”

You and Kirishima look at each other and shrug and he went to get more food as you watched the Shiketsu students leave. The way Mora acted seemed to hide hidden ideals, you didn’t get to think more as an alarm went off before you were directed to the TV.

“Villains have performed a large-scale terrorist attack spanning all of Insert City Name Here. Since most buildings collapsed there are many injured,” The room around begins to open up again just like before in the beginning “Due to heavily damaged roads, the first responders have unfortunately been delayed for the time being. Until emergency services arrive, the heroes in the arrive will lead the rescue efforts. Your task is to save as many people as you can and help the injured. And with that..” A loud blare goes off and everyone begins to run “BEGIN!” He never stated how this whole point system was going to work so every action counts.

“Let’s start by heading to the nearest urban area. We’ll work as a team as much as possible.” Ida calls out to the class

“You’re going on your own again?” Mina calls out to Bakugo who starts leaving the group and then turns next to you “Are you not going to follow?”

You shook your head following the group in front of you. “Ida’s plan for us to all work as a team will benefit all of us with what the judging is.” You explain.

“Even though this is just a test, it feels pretty real.” Asui looks around the area as you try to find anyone.

“Stay alert!” Ojiro calls out, “be careful of falling debris and explosions.”

You see Izuku stop in front of you turning to face one of the buildings and you go up to him. “What’s wrong Izuku?”

“Do you hear that?” He asks as the group tries to listen and then you hear faint crying. “I hear someone.” Izuku heads in the direction of the cries with the group following behind.

“Help me, please!” Someone calls out and you rush over to him. “My grandpa! He’s been crushed. I think he’s hurt.” He cries and you can see that there is some blood on his forehead.

“Oh no. This looks bad. Where is he?” Izuku analyzes the situation

“This looks bad?” The HUC actor yells breaking character, “That’s points off your score!” and Izuku yelps at his reaction. “The first thing you should do is see how bad my injuries are and if I can walk. I’m breathing kinda weird, too, aren’t I? And didn’t you even notice that I’m bleeding from the head?” He yells at your class, “People with Hero licenses should be able to judge a victim’s condition in an instant!” Are the members of HUC going to be the ones scoring us? “Your gross lack of training is all too apparent right now. You better shape up and pay attention, newbies! You’re not just here to provide aid. Until the police and firefighters show up, you need to exercise authority and make sure this goes off smoothly. Think of the victims here. They must be terrified. There are many aspects of being a hero. But take note, there is one thing to keep in mind above all else. Anyone in need of reducing is having the worst day of their lives. And the first thing you said was ‘This looks bad’? Seriously?” He scolds you all and you see Izuku slap his hands to his face.

“Hey! It’s fine!” Izuku gives him a smile bending down to his level. There is a brief pause before the actor gets back into character crying

“Over there! My grandpa!”

“Don’t you worry. We’ll definitely save him. I can carry this boy to the first aid station myself. You guys, go on without me!” Izuku reassures the actor while addressing the group. You nod heading off to go find more bystanders. It had been a while traveling through the rubble and debris being wary of explosions and such.

“Wait, look, someone is trapped under here.” Momo points over to where you see a elderly man under debris, “I believe he is still conscious.” She deduces. 

“I’ll use my quirk to get him out.” Uraraka begins to make her way over but Momo stops her.

“That wall near him looks like it will collapse.” Momo creates metal poles and directs Sero to use his tape to stabilize the wall, then Uraraka went and removed the rubble slowly. There wasn’t much for you and your other classmates as the three of them worked.

“We aren’t going to save anyone just standing here.” Mineta whined and for once the little creep was right.

“It would be smart for our class to split up into smaller groups.” Shoji suggested and you all nodded.

“Our best way of passing is communicating and working together with the other schools to save the civilians.” Ida states. You go off into smaller groups, you are with Mina, Jiro, and Ojiro. You had to travel further into the city looking for any victims.

“Hear anything Jiro?” Mina asked the girl kneeling her earphone jacks inserted into the ground. She stood up and pointed towards where the highway you fought at in the beginning of the exam was destroyed.

You headed over to the location and that when Mina called out the three of you. “Guys I found someone, hey you’re going to be okay I have friends here to help you.” You went to where Mina was and she was calming down an older man. 

“He doesn’t have any abnormal responses but his leg is pinned down and we have to be careful if the highway has any falling rubble.” Mina explained pointing to the location where you could see his leg was pin down his pant leg was red but you knew it wasn’t really blood.

“Please help me I can’t feel my leg!” the man cried.

“It’s going to be okay sir, Ojiro you and I will lift the rubble up and Mina and Jiro as soon as you can pull him out, this area isn’t that stable so we need to be careful but also quick.” You ordered and they nodded. Mina and Jiro got into position, Mina holding underneath his arms and Jiro by his legs. Ojiro placed his tail underneath the rubble and your hands glowed red. “Ready, 1..2..3!” You and Ojiro pulled the rock up and Mina and Jiro pulled him out. The two girls pulled him a safe distance for you both to let go of the rubble. They helped the man up to his feet letting him put his weight on the two of them. “Okay let’s get you to a safe location.” You all made your way out of the destroyed highway zone to more clearer areas. Suddenly you could feel rumbling and loud explosions towards the area where you all started at the beginning of the exam.

“Isn’t that where the shelter zone is at?” Jiro commented and an announcement came over the stadium.

“Villains have appeared and they are wreaking havoc on the city, the heroes must suppress them as well continue carrying out rescue maneuvers.”

“Villains and continuing rescue operations? They really want to make this as really as possible.” Jiro points out as you head away from the explosion.

“The only thing we can do is find a new location for civilians and hope any students nearby are dealing with the situation.” Ojiro adds and you all focus on the task at hand. You had found the other examinees setting up a new shelter area and more students with bystanders showing up. You were a reasonable distance from the fight and you could see the occasional gust of wind and fire. You had looked over the examinees and citizens trying to see if you could find Izuku.

“You should go help them.” You turn and see Mina looking at you, you shook your head turning back to people resetting up the shelter zone.

“I’ll be better helping here if we need to move again. Anyway my quirk is better for defense then combat.” You go back to helping pass medical equipment to one of the examinees checking a bystander.

“I’ve seen you fight in training during school and when we don’t have classes. Your quirk is definitely more than just defense, you can move things with your freakin mind. You could end that fight in seconds, they need you Y/n.” She pulls you away from helping and pushing you into the direction of the fight, “So go over there and show those people in the stands that you are going to be the next number one.” You smiled taking a deep breath in and turned back to her.

“You are literally my favorite.” She laughed, shooing you off and you sent a quick wave before turning towards the fight and taking off running. You could see both Shoto and that one student from Shiketsu trying to fight the “villain” who was Gang Orca. You remember seeing him during the Kamino Raid. Whenever Todoroki tried using his fire and Yoarashi with his wind they both cancelled each other or didn’t affect Gang Orca at all. Todoroki tried using his fire again but Yoarashi used his wind quirk which deflected his flames in the wrong direction. 

Heading towards a paralyzed Shindo “No! He’ll be incinerated!” Todoroki thinks unable to stop the flames heading towards the student. Right before the flames can reach two people reach there at the same time. Izuku using his enhanced speed to rescue Shindo, and Y/n landing previously where the boy was using her quirk to stop the flames.

“Dammit what are you two doing!” Izuku yells at the two of them, bringing Shindo to a safer distance.

“Are you two really bicker during a fight.” You commented as Gang Orca’s goons came your way. They had fired their cement guns towards you but you stopped the cement mid-flight sending it back their way. You stuck multiple people together with the cement, keeping your distance to not get over crowded with a more mid-range attack. While you were focused on his sidekicks, Gang Orca grabs Todoroki and uses his soundwave on Yoarashi, knocking him out of the sky. You send a wave of energy towards Gang Orca’s sidekicks sending them flying back rushing over to a falling Yoarashi. You used your quirk to soften his impact with the ground. Facing Gang Orca you got ready to fight your eyes turning red as energy surrounding your hands.

“You're foolish thinking you can take me on by yourself.” He tries to intimidate you.

“As long as those civilians are safe I’ll fight you with everything I got!” You call, a smirk appears on his face as he makes his way towards you. He uses his sonic wave to immobilize you, bringing your hands up to block his attack with a force field getting pushed back by the strength of it even when protected. Running to him going into a close combat fight, throwing punches mixed in with the psionic energy. Gang Orca is pushed back when you throw a ball of energy at his chest, his feet digging into the floor. ‘Just keep fighting until everyone is safe and rescued’ You remind yourself. Punches and kicks are thrown, Gang Orca using his Sonic wave but you keep putting up a force field protecting you.

“How long will you be able to last?” He sees your reaction time getting slower to his attacks. You get back up to your feet ready to keep fighting. Gang Orca sends another Sonic Wave towards you stronger and faster than the other ones. You are not going to be able to protect yourself. Bring your arms up hoping that you have a small force field so you are not fully immobilized. You don’t feel any pain or effect of his quirk, then you hear struggling.

There was Gang Orca cover in a light red haze, your hands had energy a darker red than it’s ever been. “My quirk..” you hear him struggle trying to use his sonic wave to break out of your grasp but he couldn’t. 

Dropping your hands the red disappears and he quickly attacks while you are confused on what happened. You flew back, rolling landing on your back looking up to the sky. Your ears rang and you could hear you breathing most noise muffled as the fight continued around you. Why can’t I hear? Turning your head when you felt a wave of heat and there was a huge fire tornado, when did this happen? You couldn’t do anything but watch as the blazing whirlwind is destroyed by Gang Orca who was inside it. You didn’t get to view the rest of the fight when your vision was turned away by Mina who is kneeling above you. Her mouth was moving talking to you but everything was muffled.

“What…” you gazed up at your friend as she helped you up from laying down to sitting up.

Slowly her voice became more clear and the noise around you returned. “Y/n are you okay when the rest of us came to help I saw you on the ground and thought the worst.” You nodded and looked around and saw Izuku standing next to Gang Orca but they weren’t fighting. Before you could question the loud speaker came on.

“All your scores have been tallied. For those who have suffered injuries, head to the infirmary and for those who aren’t to change back into their normal clothes and await for further instructions.” So the exam was over and all you did in the end was stare at the sky.

“Come one let’s get you checked out.” She grabbed your arm helping you to your feet. You both made your way out of the arena when you felt eyes on you. Looking back you saw Gang Orca looking at you, looking back forward you let Mina lead you away. How did I do that? After being checked out you had a bit of a concussion when you got hit at the end of the fight, but it didn’t explain the bloody nose and blood coming from your ears.

You got cleaned up and changed back into your school uniform gathered in front of a screen. “Okay. Everyone, thanks for your hard work in today’s exam. Now before I announce the results. I should probably explain the way we evaluated you, between HUC and those of us at the Heroes public Safety Commission. We had a two-fold demerit system that we used to determine your total scores. In other words, we were evaluating you based on how few mistakes you made in a crisis situation. Anyway, the names of those who passed are listed here in alphabetical order. Keep my words in mind as you search the screen for your name.” The screen in front of you all turns on with a list of names. Come M.. Midoriya. You look through all the M’s and there it was Midoriya Y/n. You passed! 

Mina tackles you into a hug “We both passed look at us! One step closer to being Pros.” You laugh as you other classmates freak out about passing. You glance through the board and can’t find Bakugo’s name.

“Todoroki!” You all turn to see Yoarashi slamming his head into the ground in front of Todoroki. “I’m sorry! It’s my fault that you failed the test. My focus was too narrow minded.”

Todoroki doesn’t move before stepping forward. “You’re fine. I was the one that got us off to a bad start. And thanks to the things you said to me, I have a lot to think about.”

“Holy crap. Did he really fail?” Mina asked

“How could our top two classmates not pass the exam?” Sero said out loud. 

“Shoulda been more careful what you said. Words are important, you know.” Denki teases Bakugo and Bakugo looks ready to kill.

“Shut your mouth before I murder you.” He hissed and Denki's face went pale. 

“Those entitled people at the top think so highly of themselves, don’t they?” Mineta joins into the conversation, “Their own egos are their worst enemies.” He grabs onto Todoroki’s shoulder “Looks like our class hierarchy is collapsing”

A red haze surrounds Mineta and he’s thrown away from your classmates. Todoroki gives you a nod and thanks and you respond, but a sharp pain in your head has you hissing pressing a hand to your forehead.

“You okay Y/n?” Mina looks over at you but you wave her off.

“I’m fine, I probably shouldn’t use my quirk with a concussion.”

“When did you get that.” Sero asked as you stopped rubbing your head feeling better.

“When I was fighting Gang Orca.”

“You fought Gang Orca!” Denki and Sero yelled, making your head hurt more and they lowered their voices.

“He’s like the number 10 Hero and you like actually fought him.” Denki asked and you nodded.

“Todoroki and Yoarashi were down and everyone was busy with the evacuation. I did what I could but then…” You froze remembering Gang Orca struggling unable to use his quirk, but you can’t stop people’s quirks right? Your friends look at you confused when you stopped talking to tell what happened, “Um… all I remember after a bit was that I was on the ground with Mina there and the exam was over, not a big deal.”

The boys nodded and Mina squeezed your hand and you didn’t see Bakugo still staring at you. What really happened in that fight.

“So next we’ll give you the printouts of your results. They include a breakdown of your scores, so you’ll know exactly what areas you need to improve going forward.” People came out handing out papers to each of you giving a breakdown on your profile during the exam. “We lopped off points when you did something wrong. Fall below 50, and you’re done. These demerits are itemized on your result forms, as you’ll see so I’d look at them.”

“Mina what did you get?” You looked off your paper turning to your friend who was glazing over hers.

“I got a 80 seems I’m pretty good at these things, what about you?”

“Eh I got a 85 they mainly took points off when I went to fight by myself instead of helping the evacuation or at least bring someone with me.”

Mina's arm went over your shoulder pulling you into a side hug. “I think you did the right thing. You were able to single handedly fight a Pro on your own, that’s freaking awesome.” you smile thanking her and the announcer continued on, 

“Anyway, moving forward those of you who passed can exercise the same authority as pro heroes, but only during emergency situations. In other words fighting villains, saving the victims of criminal acts or accidents. You may act using your best judgement with no direct orders. Keep in mind that your every action from now on carries with it the deep responsibility toward bettering society, and that the world is watching you. I’m sure you’re aware that All Might, our greatest hero, no longer has his incredible power. One of the reasons crime in this county has been so low is due to his presence. With that deterrent gone, criminals are sure to become bolder and more widespread. Expect the balance we currently have in our world to be destroyed, and for things to change quickly.”

“You young people will be the hope for our future. It’s Imperative that you become exemplary heroes. That your reputation grows to suppress crime as did his. Remember the license you earn today is provisional and you still have much to do. I would like for you to think of yourselves as fledglings, and be even more diligent in your studies. And as for those who fell short and did not pass. We don’t have time for you to feel bitter about your loss. Instead, we offer you a chance to redeem yourselves. After you attend a three-month-long special course and pass an individual test, we plan to issue a provisional license to those of you who failed as well. In order for us to reach the idyllic future that I just spoke of, we’re going to need as many good heroes on the streets as we can get. The first round was one to weed people out. But we would like to grow the 100 selected in that test as much as possible. That's' why we watched you all until the very end. So we can see for ourselves that you each have promise. That once your shortcomings are corrected, you have the potential to be as great as your fellow classmates. This special course will keep you busy as it will run concurrently with your normal studies. You’re welcome to retake the exam in April if you prefer to wait.” He had finished his speech and with that the provisional license exam was complete.

[bruh-haikyuu]

A/N: It’s finally my birthday month and I am, once again, filling up the Konoha agenda. Today I offer you Konoha propaganda... Tomorrow? Konoha propaganda.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (Coming Soon!)

ensemble. | konoha akinori

part 2 - poco a poco.

word count: 8618

warnings: MC’s brothers have a heavy... sister-complex; overworking

(n.) little by little

‘Help’ wasn’t an unfamiliar word for you. Helping other people with their homework (to none of their avails), helping your bandmates with lifting the appliances, etcetera, etcetera. Do as much as you can, was what your parents told you as a child, and that was what you did, regardless of who asked.

Therefore, it certainly piqued your interest that Suzuki Ume, captain of the school’s marching band, and the two managers of the Boys’ Volleyball Club had crept their way into the Light Music Club room to ask you for a favor.

“Ooh, a cheering song’s certainly a new genre,” you piped up. “I used to try and convince my club members to switch to another style, but they’re too quick to reject me, y’know? PARANOIA as an idol group wouldn’t be so bad~”

The thought of the ever-stoic Mizushima Reo wearing a frilly idol costume had the Marching Band Club captain stifling a snort. “It would definitely be a sight...”

“I think we can all agree that when it comes to composing music and lyrics, you’re our first choice,” Kaori piped up. “If we can get the message across, then it would be a solid form of motivation for the team—or Bokuto at least, especially with the qualifying tournaments coming up.”

“Plus, Konoha would love it if you made a song for him, no?” Yukie followed, her languid gaze trailing up to your smiling face.

You’d nearly forgotten that Akinori belonged with the Volleyball Club. You were third-years now, both in the last moments of your high school youth. The teachers had started counselling for future prospects, your classmates had started worrying whether or not their current marks would bring them far in life, and as a whole, the third-years have begun to panic. You didn’t mind though—as long as you had your rock-hard conviction and your pragmatic boyfriend, you felt like you could do anything you wanted.

“Ah, I almost forgot that you and Konoha-kun were an item,” Ume said, her eyes twinkling. “So, how’s it? Have you two kissed yet?”

Faking a pout, you crossed your arms in mock offense, “Very scandalous, Umecchi. My virgin lips aren’t ready to be taken away yet, you know...”

“Kidding, kidding~ so, Y/N-san, would you like to do the honors of composing the Fukurodani Volleyball Club anthem for us?”

“No thank you!” you chirped, smiling earnestly.

The faces of your three guests fell.

Seeing their distressed expressions, you laughed, “I was just messing with you~ You guys are too serious. Sure, I’ll make the song. It’ll be fun, right?”

Kaori cleared her throat, reaching into her pocket to hand you a scrap of folded paper. “R-right... Anyway, here’s some ideas we collected to get you started. I’ve also written our numbers at the bottom, if you have any questions.”

“Though something tells me you already have them,” the droopy-eyed manager grinned.

Chuckling, your eyes flitted through the daintily-written notes and doodles scrawled all over the paper, “Yep. These notes are good. I’ll report back to you when I finish my final draft.”

“That’ll be great,” Ume sighed in relief. “But don’t work yourself restless, alright? Mizushima-san told me you’re those types of people who don’t stop until they get it done. We’re all third-years now, so we’ll be happy to lend a hand.”

“Of course,” was the answer you said to them, because it was the right answer. The moral answer. Instead of the more worrying: It’s fine, I might pass out from working too hard, but at least I’ll finish the job.

As the three “left the song in your care”, you escorted them back to the third-year hallways while replaying their entire conversation with you in your head. Oh, they were certainly a curious trio, walking into the lion’s den naked. But from all the curious things they’ve told you, one resounded loudly in your memory.

“Have you two kissed yet?”

Somberly laughing to yourself, you thought that, ah, that might be trouble.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Akinori’s ears were threatening to fall off their places from the two-hour long lecture about the Tokugawa shogunate. Whose grand idea was it anyway to put Japanese History as last period? He was ready to melt into a weary puddle right on the school’s entrance, but you, on the other hand, seemed even more chipper than usual.

“Geez, what’s up with all the extra energy? You’re like Bokuto...” he groaned. “Didn’t you have Modern Literature as your last subject?”

“Yep, but I’m not allowed to get tired now!” you laughed, exuberantly slapping his back to get him out of his slump. “We’ve got no club activities today, right? Let’s go to that new cafe in Shinjuku, just to get your energy back~”

“Mm... parfait would be nice. But why are you so particularly tireless now?”

“Ooh, I’ve got a new job to do,” you said while grinning impishly. “The marching band and the Volleyball Club asked me this morning.”

Smiling sympathetically, Akinori ruffled your hair. A force of habit. “Bokuto didn’t ask you to do anything weird, right?”

You shook your head, as you paused to stop in the middle of the courtyard to look at him properly. “Your managers asked me. Yuki-chan and Kaorin. They want me to make a cheering song for you for the qualifying tournaments.”

“Whoa, seriously?” he exclaimed, exhaustion replaced with that of wonder. “That’s really cool, Y/N-chan! I can’t wait to see what you’re going to write.”

The blonde’s hand fell from the crown of your head to the slope of your shoulder, the comfort from his palm spreading into your chest. Under the light of the afternoon sun, Akinori seemed much warmer in person. You wondered if you could do that thing Ume was pestering you about earlier. Leaning towards him, a million thoughts whizzed in your head, but you paid them no attention, because as soon as your eyes fluttered close—

HONK! HONK!

“Y/N-chaaaan!”

Lips falling flat, your features darkened. “No way... No way. No way. What the hell is he doing here?”

“Y/N-chan! It’s meee! I’ve come to pick you up~” the man waving by the taxi persistently yelled from you at the gates of the school, attracting the whispers and giggles of passing students.

Concern scrawled all over his face, your boyfriend turned to you, “Y/N-chan... W-who is that?”

“It’s that crazy person again...”

“Crazy person?!”

Grabbing his hand, you tried to ignore the shameless calls from the grown taxi driver who was simply too relentless. “Never mind that. Aki-chan, you can run, right? Let’s run right now. Don’t turn back, okay?”

And without warning, you dragged your boyfriend around a sharp corner, your legs pedaling as much as your glutes could handle. Akinori wished you’d stop and explain everything to him, but if you seemed to be so desperate as to avoid this certain taxi driver, then you probably had a good reason for it.

As much as he’d hoped he didn’t, curiosity overtook the boy and he did the one simple thing, you’d pleaded him not to do. Akinori turned back, and was met with a pair of sinister eyes that swam with murderous intent.

“Y/N-chan, he’s chasing us! Why is he chasing us?! And why is he so fast?!” he cried, the impending fear of the incoming taxi driver feeding adrenaline into his legs.

“This guy was a yankii* in high school. An A-grade delinquent. If he’s fast, then we just have to run faster!”

Did things always have to go so unexpectedly with you? Why couldn’t the two of you just sit down and make plans for the day, like a normal couple? Akinori figured you were lacking of “normal”, but to be chased by a former delinquent through a sidewalk was straight up terrifying—he didn’t even get to decide on what sort of will he was going to write!

“Y/N-chaaan! It’s me, Wataru-nii-chan!” your pursuer wailed from behind you. “Don’t you recognize me?! Is it the mullet?”

Wataru-nii-chan?! Konoha repeated in his mind.

Growling, you roared back at the man. “Go home, Aniki*! I can go back on my own, so stop chasing us before someone calls the police!”

Oh god, Akinori definitely didn’t expect his first encounter with one of your three older brothers to be like this. So much for a good first impression... But it was moderately your fault that you tended to avoid the subject whenever it was brought up. The only thing he’d ever recalled from your descriptions of them was that “they’re all annoying” and that they had all moved out from Tokyo to live elsewhere.

“Not until you let me drive you home!” your brother stubbornly shot back.

You were getting tired now. Running around in circles through the school district. If this race was a way to prove that you had graduated from the mere role of the “baby sister”, then so be it.

Though if it had been any other brother of yours chasing you down the streets, you would’ve been luckier. But this was Wataru for god’s sake. The second child. The idiot whose impulse transcended logic in every way possible—and the worst person to challenge to a foot race.

“Fine!” you groaned, nearly stumbling over your feet as your boyfriend pulled you from your fatigue. Hands slipping on the curve of your knees, you glared at your brother from the low angle. “I’ll go home with you this once. Then you’ll stop coming to my school.”

Ruffling your hair, he grinned, “I knew you’ll come through for your big bro.”

“...Whatever, let’s just go,” you muttered, shying away from the older man’s touch. Looking back at your visibly concerned yet confused boyfriend, you gave him a shrug and weakly waved goodbye as you trailed behind Wataru to his taxi.

Damn, that was way too scary, Akinori breathed. His stomach rumbling, he wondered if he still should stop by that cafe you’d talked about earlier. Probably not.

Resting your chin on the sill of the taxi window, you sighed loudly, enough to catch the attention of your brother on the rearview mirror. Wataru smiled brightly, driving you away from the landscape of Fukurodani Academy.

“Was that your boyfriend with you? That ‘Aki-chan’ Mom and Dad keeps talking about?”

“Bingo,” you retorted plainly, hoping that he’d stop trying to make small talk.

“By the way, I heard there’s a new cafe that just opened up in Shinjuku,” Wataru said, the mention somewhat a déjà vu. “You want to stop by and grab some parfaits?”

Frowning at your own reflection on the glass, you grumbled, “It’s fine. I’m not hungry.”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

What the hell is this, you cursed.

Like they just coincidentally planned to ruin your day, all three of your older brothers—who had mentioned to you that they were going to spend their break at their workplaces—were sitting jovially at your family dining table, as if none of this was a shock.

“Isn’t it a lovely surprise, Y/N?” your mother beamed, scooping a larger spoonful of rice onto your oldest brother’s bowl. “They didn’t even tell us they were coming to visit!”

Of course not, you scowled. If there was one thing you and your brothers had in common was that it was the annoying habit of doing things unexpectedly and expecting the second party to live with it. You wondered if this was what Akinori had felt the day you approached him.

“Y/N-chan’s gotten so big. I wonder if she can still fit on my lap like she used to,” Kensuke, the oldest, cooed, gazing at you with glassy eyes. “You want to sit on Ken-nii-chan’s lap, Y/N-chan? I’ll feed you too if you’d like~”

“No thank you,” you growled through gritted teeth and broccoli.

The third brother Masao chuckled while ruffling your hair endearingly, “Now, now, Y/N-chan. Of course Kensuke’s going to point out that you’ve grown bigger, he’s a pediatrician after all. If you don’t want to be fed by him, how about Masa-nii-chan, eh?”

Pushing your quarter-empty meal to the center of the table, you turned your face away from the college senior’s nostalgic “beef stew airplane”. “I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

“You usually eat things up like it’s nothing. Are you ill? A rebellious phase?” Kensuke muttered, leaning back on his chair to closely observe your darkening mood. “No, it’s something more... Could it be—is it your boyfriend?”

“Or that band of yours, maybe? I can’t believe you’re still in it, you know you can’t get very far with music, right?” Masao sneered, gulping down his glass of water. “All of your friends remind me a lot of Wataru when he was still a high school hooligan.”

Showing no signs of appreciation for the comment, your second brother winked at you from across the table. “Speaking of your boyfriend, I met him today when I picked you up, didn’t I?”

The mention of your ‘infamous’ boyfriend turned the heads of the entire dinner table—you weren’t so sure why your parents looked so surprised as well, you supposed it was just genetics.

“Really? What was he like? I can definitely tell he’s one of those skinny ones.”

“You bet. I was more curious about his hair though...”

“Is it dyed or is it a natural shade?”

“It was too dark to tell, maybe when I encounter him again, I’ll take a small snip of his hair to show everyone~”

Kensuke, who in your memory didn’t fare well with news of any boy approaching a 1-metre radius of you, darkly smiled behind the shade of his spectacles. He hadn’t said anything in response to Wataru’s report, and that itself terrified you to bits.

“Ooh, you’re still with him, Y/N-chan?” at his sappy call of your name, your stomach tightened. The table fell silent at the mercy of the oldest child. “That’s new. You usually get bored of something or someone after a few months or so... Are you sure it’s not much of a burden for you? You’re a third-year too, after all... You shouldn’t take relationships for granted~”

If Wataru was a knuckleheaded ogre and Masao was a devious fox, then Kensuke was definitely the demon to rule them all. It was in their nature, whether they realized it or not; they always made you seem pathetic so that they could take the chance to dote and care for you like they wished for.

“Dinner was delicious,” you blurted out, standing up from your chair abruptly that the tableware shook and clattered. “I’m going to my room.”

Watching you slam the bedroom door, Kensuke shouted after you, “Ehh... You’re not going to tell us about you and your boyfriend? We’re curious!”

You let your brothers’ voices fade out into white noise as you collapsed face-down onto your bed. You hoped that this visit wasn’t going to last long, otherwise, you’d be pulling out every hair from your head until you went bald.

Unfolding the scrap of notes your three patrons had previously collected for you, a weak smile cracked through your face. Don’t mind them, Y/N-chan, you thought as you got up to place your beloved guitar on your lap. Let’s get to work.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Akinori swore your face was so sour, he tasted lemons in his mouth.

You looked like you didn’t sleep for days. You, who had always brimmed with energy, were quietly cursing your brothers as you ate lunch. Added to your rather beautiful profile, you looked like an phantom waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting victim.

“So, how was your consultation with Yamanouchi-sensei about your future plans?” he cleared his throat, hoping that he could slowly pick away the frosty wall between you.

You only frowned deeper—so deep that your eyebrows were almost parallel. “Future plans... Do I have to decide everything now? My life is only this wonderful because I don’t plan anything. I could be busking in the streets with Reo, Iori-kun and MugiMugi ten years from now and I’d be perfectly fine.”

Akinori laughed. That ‘plan’ definitely smelled very strongly of you.

“What about you?” you nudged his elbow with the side of your chopsticks. “What do you want to be doing in the future, Aki-chan?”

“Hmm... I’ll definitely go to college—otherwise my mom’s brains will leak out of her ears if I don’t. After that, I’m considering setting up a business on my own, maybe in Meguro where it’s a bit cheaper than Ginza or Roppongi. It’d be nice to be your own boss, don’t you think?”

You smiled weakly and nodded. How annoying. Just as you were liberated from your isolation just a year ago, you felt like you were already seeping back into loneliness once more. Everyone had a plan after high school.

Akinori was going to be an ambitious conglomerate with the number one business in Meguro. Gorilla-faced gentle Reo was finally going to set up that ramen shop he’d been dreaming of. Iori, a rebel to mankind and jaywalking laws, was going to “hell with everything” and enter a prestigious art school. And young Tsumugi... well, whatever a sales operator was, you wished him all the best as a good senpai would do.

And thus, you were stuck again. As the prodigy L/N Y/N who could do everything... but could never decide on anything.

“It’s my brothers’ fault I was so sleepy when I filled in that form. They were disturbing my peace of mind and so I got scolded by Yamanouchi-sensei for it,” you reasoned.

“Is that why you look so tired?”

“No, that’s not it,” you sighed, replacing the lid on your emptied bento. “I spent all night finishing up most of the cheering song’s melody.”

Akinori nearly choked on his strawberry milk. “That much already?! Y/N-chan, the tournament isn’t until a week away! Geez, think about yourself more, won’t you? What would you do if you fell sick and collapsed?”

Getting up to pat away the dust resting on your skirt, you gave your boyfriend a cheeky smile. “Then you’ll just have to take care of me until I get better.”

“Ah... You’ll only ask me to do weird stuff. Why can’t your brother do it? Isn’t he a doctor?”

You curtly gave him an unappreciative pout, masking your obvious mirth. “C’mon~ I’m your girlfriend. You’re going to need a punishment for saying that, Aki-chan. Come now, don’t cover up your sides, I’m going to have to tickle you good—!”

Though you were laughing, you were a mess. More than usual, Akinori thought. It was disturbing enough that his first impression of your older siblings was nightmarish at best, but he wondered if your coping methods could’ve been more... amiable. What would he do if you really fell sick and collapsed? Would your brothers even let him visit especially with their overbearing sense of vigilance?

From your little grumbling, it really did seem like they didn’t like him. Or, really, the concept of him. As much as Akinori appreciated your solace, it would be troublesome if they’d thought he was trying to influence you to despising your family. Some sort of soap opera this is.

At least you were smiling now. He thought. And that was all that mattered in that moment, because he knew things were about to go awry one way or another.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Y/N-san... I think my ears just ascended to second heaven.”

In the expanse of the Marching Band Club room, Suzuki Ume had her hands clasped together, a content expression resting idly on her face. And it really did look like she’d died happy.

“Right~?” you grinned, setting down Lennon-chan next to the blackboard. “The melody really gets you pumped up, doesn’t it? Especially when it’ll be played by all the trumpets and percussions... I think even I’ll start feeling the adrenaline.”

Brandishing the handwritten sheet music in her hands, Ume smiled at you endearingly. “This song is perfect, Y/N-san. And I’m sure your lyrics will only make it better. If I may propose...”

Repeating the word she’d trailed off, you felt an even bigger smile cracking through the slits of your pearly teeth.

“It would be great if you were there to lead the song for us. That is, only if you agree! I’ve already discussed it with the PTA and the principal and they’re all on board with the idea.”

The room grew still, and the captain spoke again.

“I’m sure Konoha-kun will be excited if you were there cheering for him on... maybe you’ll finally get one of those romantic after-game kisses with him~”

Ume never recalled a moment where you ever blushed. But to see Fukurodani’s infamous “alien” genius so flustered—red from head to toe—was a victory no one could ever seldom. Who could blame you? When thoughts of your untouched lips being swept away by your guileful boyfriend in an enclosed space, so close yet so far from prying eyes were buzzing in your head... Geez, now you really wanted a kiss.

“I’ll lead the song for you—b-but not because I want my boyfriend to do... that!” you quickly reasoned, the red on your face turning darker. “Aki-chan gets all sweaty after a game and being kissed in that condition is gross! Public displays of affection are also pervy, aren’t they? R-right?”

Hoho, Ume giggled. So the Iron Maiden is this type of tsundere~

“Umecchi. That amused look on your face, please erase it.”

It took Suzuki Ume her entire fist in her mouth to pacify her approaching laughter. But eventually, she’d jovially apologized for teasing you, alleviating the pout resting on your face. Reviewing her ideas for the lyrics once more, you drew the conclusion that a) you were still going to have to examine the Volleyball Club first-hand for inspiration and b) writing lyrics for a cheering song was going to be harder than you’d expected. You, who had been used to your own hostile verses in PARANOIA’s songs, were going to have to be forced to avoid the usual... “dirty scums” business.

You were beginning to regret taking the offer, but quickly waved away the thought, thinking that you were starting to sound like your boyfriend. Exiting the Marching Band club room, you pondered on a proper time to visit the Volleyball Club for research. They had today off. Tomorrow, maybe? No, Akinori would complain that you were working too hard—

“Ow!” you yelped, rubbing your forehead from the sudden impact from the wall—Wait, you squinted. There was never a wall here.

And when a pair of arms wrapped around you as a constrictor so eager to devour, all answers were revealed. “Y/N-chaaan! It’s so nice to see you! Aaah, Masa-nii-chan was starting to wonder where you were, you know? Kyuu~”

Scuffling against the third brother’s vice-like embrace, you hissed. “Aniki, let go! You’ll damage my guitar! What are you doing here?! Who in hell would let you in?”

Gently setting you down, Masao watched you with a reprimanding look on his face, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“How cruel of you to say, Y/N-chan. I’m only here to check on my alma mater...” he sulked, focus zeroing in on the piece of paper in your hand. “What’s that? Can I see?”

Before you could express your dissent, Masao had already lunged behind you, snatching the paper into his hands. Reaching for the large wall with your dwarfen arms, you let out a shrill wheeze as his eyes started to skim over the paper and his expression dropped to a million feet.

“Give it back, Aniki!”

“You’re still doing this music thing? Geez, did you even listen to what I said during that one dinner?” he scoffed, turning his back to you to further deride your struggle. “‘You won’t get very far with music’. I bet these scrubs aren’t even paying you.”

Taking up all the strength in your legs, you craned against Masao as much as possible and retrieved the sheet with a disapproving crackle. “I’m not capitalistic like you. And yes, I am still doing this ‘music thing’, but no matter how far I’ll go...”

You paused, drinking in the grave look on your brother’s face.

“I’ll always have people to support me, Aniki.”

At the spur of the moment, like your ancestors were trying to curse you for speaking of the devil, a familiar call of your name had the both of you turning your heads. A mop of blonde and a pair of simple dark eyes that did not match the scene that was playing out before him.

What was Akinori doing here? Why would he call for you seeing that this obnoxious adult was here?! Run away, you begged with your gaze, but the fear that rooted your boyfriend was unrelentingly profuse. No! Don’t succumb!

“Ah! Y/N-chan’s brother!” he bowed, an angle so sharp he almost snapped a muscle. “It’s nice to finally meet you... S-sir.”

“Sir?” Masao drawled, the question pumping acid into the atmosphere. “I’m not even that old yet.”

Despite being younger than the first brother he’d encountered, there was no doubt that this one was more terrifying than the last. At least to your boyfriend he was. Masao, more attractive-looking than Wataru, had a carbon copy of your steely gaze. “He’s a fox! A wily fox who’ll get you to assume things without meaning to!” you’d told him a few days prior, annoyance burning in your tone.

As Masao opened his mouth to speak again, Akinori could only gulp. “You’re much taller than I expected. You’re a regular in the volleyball club, right, Aki-chan?”

“R-right,” he responded. God, now he knew why his term of endearment only sounded right when it came from you.

Circling your boyfriend like a famished vulture, Masao studied him from the tips of his hair to the toes of his shoes.  “So stiff~ I would’ve mistaken you for my little sister’s guitar if you weren’t so...” he smiled warmly at the boy, then hissed.

“... Alive.”

Akinori suddenly realized what you meant by him being such a “fox demon”—he supposed you were just trying to remind him of a folk tale that time, you said yourself that whatever you said shouldn’t be taken too much to the heart. Gulping at the imposing brute of the man, your boyfriend made a mental note to listen closely to your fanciful ramblings the next time he wanted to stay “alive”. For good riddance.

Laughing raucously at his expression, Masao slapped his shoulders, worthy of the ossan* at the nearby ramen shop. “I was just messing with you! Geez, you don’t have to take me so seriously~ You’re just like Y/N-chan but less cuter! Damn, exactly the type of guy Kensuke-nii would love and hate at the same time! Hey, tell me, have you two kissed yet? I can tell that my little Y/N-chan would enjoy that kind of stuff. She is the hopeless romantic after all~”

“K-kiss?!”

At the mention of the accursed ‘activity’, you decided that it was time to finally interfere. Fitting yourself in between your paralysed boyfriend and your brother, you spread out your arms in a sign of mock annoyance. Eyes blazing as bright as your face, you begged Masao one last time.

“That’s enough getting to know each other, right, Aniki?” you said, urging him away from the stricken third year. “If you’re really here to look around the school, then you should hurry and go already. I’ll take you to the staircase, come on.”

Casually lounging an arm over your shoulders, your brother bent down towards your ear, “He’s not so bad. I like him.”

You rolled your eyes. “If you’re saying that just to win me over—”

“Geez, would you stop getting all wary with me? I’m not.” Masao muttered. The mischievous glint in his eyes disappeared just as gravity replaced it. “Your Aki-chan seems like a good kid. Not my type, just so you know. But if you care about him that much as to protect the guy from both me and Wataru, then he’s really something, huh? I’m still not in favor of your entire music future ordeal, but if that Konoha guy is your ‘support’, then I’ll rest easy knowing he’s got your back.”

There was another one of those uncomfortable pauses you hated again. Your brothers never lied; it was one of those characteristics that made your family prone to bluntness over everything else. Nevertheless, there was a sense of lightness in your chest after hearing your brother’s approval. You supposed that even if Masao was the slyest sibling known to man, he was indefinitely more tolerable than... Creepy Siscon Kensuke or Stubborn Belittling Wataru.

“Are you going to tell Kensuke and Wataru about this?”

Eyeing your concern, Masao tilted his head. “I won’t. Promise.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, nodding at your brother from atop the staircase, “... Masa-nii-chan.”

The face Masao was enough for you to scrunch up in disgust and regret whatever you just said. “H-Haa... Y-you finally called me Masa-nii-chan again... I’m so happy. So, so happy. W-will you give me a hug, Y/N-chan?”

“No way. Calling you that again was embarrassing enough, Aniki.”

“Not Aniki! Call me Masa-nii-chan! Once more!”

Shaking your head petulantly, you laughed at your brother’s woes leaving him to continue with a tour of his alma mater (unaccompanied by the hug he so desired). You returned to your lingering boyfriend with ease in your heart and found him just as stricken as you had left him.

“He’s gone now, you don’t have to look so tense,” you poked at his rigid expression.

“Your other brother he mentioned...” Akinori bit his lip. “Would he really hate me?”

You let out a breath.

“I can’t say he won’t, but Masao also said he’d love you, right? Don’t worry about it,” you grinned, looping your arm around his to drag him through the third year hallways. “When he’s being serious, you can trust that guy with his words.”

“Even the ones about how you’d enjoy being kissed?”

The spring freezing in your step, you stared at your boyfriend incredulously. Dawning on Akinori’s face was a look of absolute triumph and illuminated by the shadows of the midday sun, it was like you were at an impasse. It was near unheard of, that this was the same boy who’d you manhandled last year to get his feelings straight! And now, he was using that subliminal charm of his—the one you’d developed—in addition to that godforsaken attractive smirk to ensnare you.

What’s up with that, you thought. A mix of sheer arousal, fear and pride pooling in your hammering heart. I created a monster.

“... Except for those words,” you gritted, trying to keep your footing steady with the way Akinori was leaning closer to your body.

He chuckled lowly. “Eeh, we haven’t even kissed yet. Do you actually have experience in this sort of thing?”

You turned to the large windows lining the walls, hoping that you’d play off your deepening blush. “Of course not. And don’t say it like you have any either! If I’d dated someone who’s already had their first kiss... that would be weird on my side.”

Ruffling your hair while laughing heartily, Akinori let his eyes trail towards the outline of your face. You were beautiful, that was obvious. But in a private moment just like this, just you and him, you always seemed like you were glowing. Your curious eyes—overflowing with mischief and mysteries that he swore to uncover with time. Your cheeks, warm against his fingers and always dusted with a faint red whenever he was around. And your lips. Untouched, unkissed. A plump pair he’d only dreamed of wrapping his own around.

Tracing the pads of his fingers on the contours of your lips, charting etches of himself upon it, Akinori wondered what it would feel like. To kiss you. Would you truly enjoy it, like your brother had said?

“Aki-chan...?” your voice. So delicate and seductive; his name came out of your mouth like amber honey dripping on his hand. It was funny, to be so in love with you. Even after moments where he’d regretted he hadn’t.

It didn’t occur to him how his face was already gravitating towards you. Maybe you weren’t just an alien, maybe L/N Y/N was an entire extraterrestrial planet with a pulling force of its own.

And Konoha Akinori would be the first man to set foot on it.

“W-Whoa! Sorry ‘bout that! Am I interrupting something private, Taichou*?”

Setting foot, Akinori thought of registering himself into a mental ward for thinking of such an uncharacteristic analogy. Watching you wave giddily at the prowler who just happened to be your bandmate Iori, he sighed. I just got hit by an entire meteoroid.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

You considered buying yourself a good-luck charm from the nearby shrine. The feeling of being overwhelmed... was something you could never get used to. It was rare for you to feel so swamped, taking into account how you prided yourself over being able to get things done at lightning speed. But the song, college entrance exams, your brothers, your band and... that interrupted chance of a kiss. Everything simply took its chance to slip itself into your head all at once.

And it didn’t help at all that Kensuke had found out about your lazily answered Future Plans form that you had stupidly left lying around on your bedroom desk... under that? The lyrics to the cheering song.

“If you’re going to take your future so lightly, then you’re better off not going to that volleyball match,” he’d said to you coolly, a reflection of your seething face bouncing off his glasses. “Is this why you’ve been up all night on your guitar?”

“It was my choice,” you’d told him repeatedly.

“What uncharacteristic choices!” Kensuke had gasped mockingly, crossing his arms. “I’m simply worried about my cute little sister. What if those choices lead you to your doom? Your future, your band... that boyfriend of yours.”

He had paused to ruffle your hair, in which you’d barely managed to duck away from.

“Why don’t you just give all that up and let your big brothers take care of you, okay, Y/N-chan?”

Of course, you had only scoffed in reply and pretended like you didn’t hear him, but you weren’t going to show Kensuke that his words were actually bothering you, were you?

At the current hour, your brothers didn’t matter. As long as you finished the lyrics, everything would be fine. It’ll be fine, you said to yourself. Your long week of juggling through school, visiting the gym for lyrical inspiration, appointments with teachers, your club, clients and boyfriend, all while avoiding your brothers’ nosy interventions had begun. And there was no more back-pedaling on anything.

On the bright side, the marching band was progressing amicably with practicing the melody with you. You decided that Ume, still inquisitive about the passage of your relationship, wasn’t their captain for nothing. Hence, it would only be fair that you also gave your all during your practices—whether or not you finally felt weary in any parts of your body didn’t matter.

And ultimately, the utmost crescendo of the entire week had finally dawned you. You finished. You finished the lyrics! The song! Just about 3 days before the tournament and you had excitedly jotted down the final lines of the cheer. It was flawless in your mind and you comically considered switching over PARANOIA’s theme into something more flamboyant.

Just as a storm had come, the gods had blessed you with a stroke of good fortune. Your week had finally turned around for the better. The rehearsals, the feeling of a pick between your fingers, the swelling intimacy between you and Akinori. Your future even seemed clearer in your head. The tournament was only two days away and you felt like steel. Nothing could stop you. Nothing—

“39 degrees.”

“H-huh...?”

“You’re sick, Y/N-chan,” Kensuke sighed taking a seat on the stool next to your bed, the thermometer between his fingers flashing the two digits you never once fathomed to unite. “Mom and Dad have called your school and told them you won’t be attending class today.”

Nothing, but a 39-degree fever that made your legs buckle every step you took.

“I can’t be sick!” you suddenly cried out, only to be thrown aback by your own string of coughs. You rasped again, your legs weakly reaching out to the floor, looking for your slippers. “T-The tournament is tomorrow and I have to be there to lead the supporters—!”

As your toes kissed the surface of the hardwood, your knees caved away, crumpling and collapsing you forwards into the anticipating embrace of your three brothers. Cringing, you couldn’t help but to melt away into their warmth. You were cold. So, so cold. And all you wanted to do was wither away.

“Oi, oi! Think about your health first,” Wataru scolded, easing you back down against your plush pillows. “39 degrees won’t just go away like that, y’know? Worst-case scenario is that you won’t feel better until Sunday.”

Bundling your blankets over your shivering form, Masao nodded. “Wataru’s right. We’re sorry, Y/N-chan, but I don’t think you can go to the tourney tomorrow with your current condition.”

With a gentle stroke of his fingers on your sweat-slicked hair, Kensuke was already putting you into a trance that made your eyelids go heavy. “It’s cold, isn’t it? You poor, poor thing... It’ll be alright, Y/N-chan. Doctor Ken-nii-chan is going to take proper care of you~”

And those were the least reassuring words you’d ever heard in your life before you yielded to slumber.

“Y-Y/N-chan, are you alright?!” your boyfriend’s voice blared through your phone. It was already evening, and you didn’t catch how many hours you’d been out like a light until you stirred awake to the ringing of your cell phone. “I didn’t see you all day so I asked Tsuyoshi-san and he said you were down with a fever! Should I visit and bring you some food? W-what do you want? Some miso soup or chicken stock?”

“No, it’s fine,” you wheezed out softly. “You don’t have to come.”

“W-why not?” Akinori murmured, the torment in his voice seeping through your speakers. “You said yourself that if you ever collapsed and fell sick, I’ll be there to take care of you, right? I want to take care of you now, even if you make me do weird things. So, please—”

“Akinori.” You sternly hissed. What were you going to tell him? That he couldn’t come because your iron-willed brother slash doctor was guarding your door like a dog? You didn’t even want to know what Kensuke would do to your boyfriend if he came over. “Don’t. Come. I don’t want you to catch my fever. The match is tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“If you love me, don’t visit. Thanks for the concern,” you said flatly and quickly hung up before he could say anything else to pull at your heartstrings. God, you really felt like a loser. Maybe your brothers weren’t so wrong about the ‘weak little sister’ business...

A knock on the door, and the devil had answered to your thoughts. “Hello~? I’m coming in, Y/N-chan. Are you awake? I’ve got your medicine.”

Heat flooding your brain, you were already frustrated enough about the entire ordeal, and your brother’s face was the last thing you wanted to see right now. Turning around to face the wall, you buried yourself into your blankets as the sound of an opening door and a tray being set down filled the room.

“I know you’re awake,” though you couldn’t see him, you were sure Kensuke was grinning playfully behind you. “Turn around so Ken-nii-chan can give you your medicine.”

“I can do it myself, Aniki,” you grumbled from within your cocoon of warmth.

“Not with those shaky hands you’re not,” he said as-a-matter-of-factly. Growling lowly, you shifted beneath the sheets and locked gazes with your smiling brother. Eyeing his every movement as he poured the dark syrup onto a spoon (because who knows what kind of shady things he might put into it!), you rustled.

“Why are you doing this?”

Replacing the cap onto the bottle, the eldest brother’s face broke into a grin. “Because I’m both your brother and a pediatrician. So isn’t it my responsibility to do this sort of stuff? Ah, open wide~”

You quickly enveloped your mouth around the spoon, downing its contents. Your face scrunched repulsively at the artificial tang. Sour. “I suppose it’s your responsibility to make my life a living hell too?”

“That’s a good girl, Y/N-chan. Sorry it’s lemon,” he said, setting down the spoon on your bedside table before turning to you again. “I just want what’s best for you. My little Y/N-chan is different from those other good-for-nothing kids, right? It’s a big world out there and we don’t want you to suffer.”

“Would you stop treating me like a child?” you scowled, hot air spewing out from your nose. “What’s up with you three and doing that? I can function perfectly fine on my own. I’m a third year in high school. It’s so annoying that I could almost hate you. And this is all because you never want to listen to me!”

As the both of you immersed in the deadly silence, you took the time to ogle at your brother’s contorted expression.

Kensuke leaned back on his chair, eyes widened with surprise. “’L-listen’... Y/N-chan, of course we want to listen to you. I-is that not what we’ve been doing the whole time?”

“Listening isn’t the same thing as assuming what I want, Aniki. All you guys do is pile up expectations about the fantasy Y/N living inside your head, and it’s been on my mind the entire week,” you murmured, face growing redder. Though that was just the fever. You were sure of it. “I can’t be the little Y/N-chan I used to be. She’s gone. I’m me now, and the choices I make are the results of my own changes. The choices about what I do, love—”

You took one good, satisfying look at Kensuke’s face, before continuing your sermon. “—and my future. No matter how stupid it looks to you.”

“Oh, Y/N-chan...” he sobbed, striking you dumb top to bottom. Kensuke was crying. Your brother was crying, but what for? Did he catch your fever? God, being sick really did a number on people.

“We didn’t—I didn’t mean to make you feel that way! I was just scared. It was so scary to see you grow up so fast into an adult... then what next? You’ll forget us. You even said you hated me! O-oh God, I’m turning into an overbearing person... I want to commit seppuku*, I’m so sorry...”

Seppuku—Wait, this was your brother you’re talking about here. And with his degree of regret and brashness... he just might do it. How dramatic, you thought, a chuckle threatening to escape your throat.

“Geez, don’t commit seppuku, Aniki,” you sat up on your bed, handing him the pack of tissues next to your pillow. “I said I could almost hate you. But I can’t possibly do that—you’re my brother, right? Even though you three drive me crazy, to fully despise the people who care for you... That’s unfair, isn’t it? Come on, Doctor, don’t cry in front of your patients~”

Blowing his nose loudly into a tissue, he sniffed. “You must really like this guy, huh?”

You made a noise between confusion and shock.

“The old Y/N-chan wouldn’t go so far for anything if it didn’t really interest you... I was worried that he was taking advantage of you or something, to the point where you worked yourself sick. But I couldn’t help but to overhear your phone call from outside and I was relieved that it wasn’t the case.”

You leaned your head on your knees and sighed. “Of course not. Aki-chan is sweet and caring and he knows exactly how to come up with the perfect responses to my weird antics. He used to take advantage of me, and I used to take advantage of him. But that was a long time ago. He made me realize that I didn’t have to understand everything before I felt happy about anything.”

“Does he make you happy?”

“Very. Aki-chan, my band, making this song for the tournament... it all makes me happy, and nothing could be better.”

The air was thick, and Kensuke took it as his cue to leave. Giving you one last smile at the doorframe after he’d flicked the lights off, you felt relief dulling your muscles.

“If you get better by tomorrow, I-I’ll try to figure out a way to get you to that gymnasium,” he said. A promise you knew he was bound to keep. “Your boyfriend is a good person, and I’d hate for him to go through such a grueling match without your support.”

“Ken-nii-chan?” God, it was embarrassing for you to say it, but you were thankful that you were clouded with darkness. “Thanks for listening.”

“G-get some rest, Y/N-chan. Good night.” A shut of a door and muffled crying through the walls.

Good night. You said to yourself and the comforts of your empty room.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Has anyone seen Y/N-san?” Suzuke Ume, frantic captain of the Marching Band, scurried through the throngs of students, parents and teachers.

“I don’t think she got on one of the PTA buses either,” Yukie craned her neck upwards to get a better view of the audience. “Did she forget about it?”

“No way! This is Y/N-san we’re talking about. The day she forgets is the day the world collapses in on itself,” Ume gritted. “Gosh, I have to get the marching band ready and everything...”

Down below, on the polished hardwood court, the boys of the Fukurodani Volleyball Club were raving on their own as usual.

“Hey, what’s Suzuki-chan freaking out about? You think everything’s okay?” Komi whispered to the unstirring wing spiker. “Yo, Konoha, you good, man?”

Akinori said nothing. The world seemed so quiet, not even Bokuto’s early-morning racket could shake him out of it. The gymnasium held out like an empty shell to him. Was the world always so silent whenever you weren’t around? What a desolate world he lived in before you.

Lumping a sinewy arm over his shoulder, Bokuto pointed out. “Where’s Y/N-chan? She’s not coming? I heard she was going to lead the crowd.”

“She’s sick,” he finally mouthed, shrugging Bokuto off his back. “She didn’t come to school either yesterday. I’m just worried about her, ‘s all.”

At his words, Komi frantically leapt towards him. “Sick?! The Great Deity is sick? Did you visit her yesterday? How is she?”

“Y/N-chan... didn’t let me visit,” Akinori sighed. “I don’t know if I ticked her off or if she’s finally gotten bored of me... but she told me not to come even if I really really wanted to.”

As the sentence left his mouth, a shrill whistle resounded in the gymnasium, bouncing off the walls in a warning manner. That was that. The tournament you so hoped to attend the entire week, gone in a matter of seconds.

“Waaaait! Sorry I’m late!”

Like seagulls flocking to breadcrumbs, the entirety of the gym turned its head to the northwest entrance. Where a girl donned in a lopsided Fukurodani uniform and a guitar case strapped to her back looked like she just ran a marathon to get here.

Akinori’s face flushed away of its color, but he couldn’t help but to smile. Elegantly poised Ume nearly dropped her baton, and the entire crowd had their jaws scattered all over the floor.

“Let’s get this party started, shall we?”

Coach Yamiji on the sidelines snickered behind his wrinkled hands. This is going to be one interesting cheer.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

There was a small corner in the Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium, hidden to the eyes, where janitors and staff alike sparsely came by. A little close to the bathrooms, but not too bad considering there was a fragrant lavender air freshener nocked there. And at this hour, it was the perfect time for—I don’t know—perhaps a curious couple to bask themselves in an after-game moment?

Cradling your face in his hands, Akinori scrutinized the little features on your skin, his breath heavy with concern. “Are you still sick? You’re a bit warm.”

Pushing his hands away, you tapped his chest lightly. “How romantic, Aki-chan. You drag your girlfriend away to a private space only to interrogate her. I’m fine, you know~”

“Your cheeks are completely red, you can’t fool me.” He returned his hands on your cheeks, squishing them together. You looked like strawberry mochi. Cute.

“T-That’s for an entirely different reason!” you cried out, averting your gaze. Your fingers curled around your quaint chrysanthemum necklace out of instinct. “I’m really fine. My brother, the doctor, drove me here with Wataru’s taxi. And we both know he wouldn’t be the type of person to let me out of the house if I wasn’t well. And guess what? I think my brothers have finally come to accept you~!”

Sighing, he rested his forehead on your shoulder, hiding his face in your neck. “You’re troublesome, L/N Y/N. You’re lucky the cheering song was so good that we won those first few matches by a landslide. Otherwise, I would be fully scolding you right now.”

“Hehehe~ Congrats for the win.” Tilting your head against his, you let out a soft hum. “I’m sorry for worrying you, Aki-chan. What should I do for you to forgive me?”

Raising his neck to level to yours, Akinori propped his temple up against yours and spoke to you in a husky tone that made you feel feverish again.

“No one’s going to interrupt us, right?”

“Eh? I don’t think so, but what’re you doing so close—”

“Good.”

And with a soft clink of your matching necklaces bumping against each other in the vacant halls, Akinori had stolen your breath away like a phantom thief to a tower’s princess.

Warm, was the first thing he thought of at first contact. Maybe it was the residue of your night-long fight against a high fever. He might fall sick soon, but that wasn’t something to think about during a first kiss. The space between you was nearly spectral and Akinori’s beating heart was faint against your chest. It was fast, expectedly so. As his hands drifted to shyly wrap itself around the tendrils of your stray hairs, you sneakily nibbled his lower lip, erupting the bubbles of laughter from his throat.

“You smell like sweat,” you poked at his jersey, your cheeks burning up. “Don’t just do that without giving me a warning first.”

Tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, Akinori eyed your slightly parted lips, a dash of his saliva molten upon it, “It’s payback for all the nuisances you’ve caused. So take responsibility, Y/N-chan.”

‘Responsibility’. The word seemed so foreign to you, but perhaps being liable wasn’t going to be such a bad thing—even if you were just freely riding the wave. Letting out a raucous laugh, you threw yourself against Akinori, taking as much responsibility as needed. Twice, thrice, and so on.

Bit by bit, the tailwinds of fate pointed north, and the right path for you never seemed clearer.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Glossary:

yankii - delinquent

aniki - ‘older brother’, but really slang-y (usually seen in pop culture yakuza scenes)

ossan - middle-aged man (an ‘uncle’ of sorts)

taichou - commander/leader

seppuku - japanese ritual of slitting the belly

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

Leaving legacy

Warnings: Swearing, use of violence and guns, women pitted against each other (I guess)

Pairing: Joker x reader - I gave him the name Jerome since I like the way and to me, it fits ever since I watched Gotham it stuck on

Summary: the Joker is captured by Batman. Leaving Y/n, his girlfriend to hold up his legacy but what happens when a woman nudges herself between the criminal and the good girl turned mafia leader?

'Run, Y/n! Fucking run!!' The criminal in purple cried out to his lover seeing the woman confusedly run in the club finding comfort in the magnitude of people in there. Looking back she sees the blue-red lights shining through the glass door. The car engine rumbled driving away from the club. Looking at Frost near her, he shakes his head.

'As of today, the Joker has been imprisoned by the Batman and the police.' It was painful to see her boyfriend being subdued by gas bombs leaving him defenseless and unconscious. Especially the aftermath of it all the Batman taking him into his car handcuffed heading towards Arkham Prison. 'Frost, what do we do now?' The frightened woman asked the loyal companion by her side.

'We have a backup plan. Follow me.' First walks out of the small departed as Y/n tails behind him unsure of the action. At least Forst wouldn't hurt her. Right? Entering J's office Frost retirees a black suitcase flopping it on the desk opening the top lid. He turns it around to face Y/n her eyes catching a glimpse of white papers tacked even pushed in the suitcase falling all over the place but only a small letter sat neatly on it with the words scribbled on it 'Y/n'. Picking up the letter she opens it reading

Y/n, princess, dove,

If you are reading this then it means that I am not anymore capable of doing my "business" I was arrested and the outcome is unsure. So I have to Frost a briefcase holding each valuable document that is signed for you if I was taken away or killed. My club, cars and my other "ventures" are yours. You are the only who I can trust. And if I'm in a Prison. Wait for me, I won't be there long. 💋💋💋

Besides, I need my kisses to survive.

Your Jerome

Placing the letter down with shaky hands Y/n looks at the piles of documents as an explosion of stress and anxiety power over her. 'Frost, what if I won't be good? What if I won't be able to handle this? What if I-' 'If Mr.J thought that you couldn't handle it then he wouldn't hand his entire life to you.'

Frost steps close to her putting a much-needed arm on her shoulder 'I will be here as your advisor to help you. That is my oath.' With more doubtfulness nesting in her soul, she nods desiring that she will do it right.

The streets are empty, deserted and alone with the company of the cold sharp wind and the naked bare trees they all guided to the same destination, Arkham Asylum. The purple car howled as it came to a standstill delivering its new owner to the entrance door. Y/n steps outside seeing the hush silence looming on the place she looks up seeing the floors and floors of windows which presumably all held the dangerous criminals. Waving to the guard at the reception she hands him a document.

'Visit for the Joker? Huh, I guess miracles do happen.' The guard retorted teasingly seeing Y/n's forced smile as he hands her the visitors pass. Walking through the door she sits down waiting for her boyfriend to appear only a glass partition in between them. The door on the other side creaks open as two guards guide in the Joker his hands and upper body in a straight jacket. He sits down seeing the woman he loved holding in tears to come off as if she is tough enough to overcome this. One of the policemen grabs the phone handle placing it on the table prompting it upwards. Y/n repeated the motion as she places it to her ear.

'Hey J. How are you?' Y/n asks wanting to hear his voice. He mumbles as he shakes the jacket striving to free his arms. Y/n turns to the policeman 'His nose is itching. Can you... Please?' One policeman pauses but steps forwards scratching the Joker's nose. He steps back in line with his fellow partner. 'Thanks, Princess.' He finally speaks 'You should thank him.' She points to the policeman as Joker turns to him grumbling a broken 'thank you'.

His head shoots back to her asking softly 'Are you alright?' Y/n shrugged 'As much as I can be. But it's not the same without you.' J looks at her seeing the frown that probably nested itself for the last 6 days that he was in this hellhole. 'Come on, princess, I need to see your smile. Do you know how much frowns I see from others? P-l-e-n-t-t-y.' Y/n chuckles at his spelling mistake chatting him immediately 'There is no extra "t" in plenty.' 'Oh, are you sure? It thinks there is and its purpose it's special.' Y/n looks at him weirdly as he proceeds 'The "t" is there to make you smile.' He shows off his own smile laced with the metal teeth giving off more sinister intent but still, a smile solely earmarked for her.

'I hope that you are behaving.' J says to his lover seeing the visible smile wash away being replaced by a stern lip line '...Yeah... I am the new job is-' 'Okay, that is enough visits are over!' the guard screamed over her sentence. Joker looks once more over his shoulder grunting 'I believe that the lady didn't finish her sentence.' he turns back to her 'Continue.' Y/n takes a much needed deep breath saying slowly 'As I was saying, the new job is hard but I'm handling it well.'

Joker stood up as she finished her sentence an enormous grin on his pale face 'Great. I will head back now, Princess. I love you~~~' Joker slurred his words in a mocking manner as the guards behind him cringed at the PDA while Y/n elicited a smile from her again, one he will remember when his days here are hard. Y/n stands up waving J goodbye.

'Frost calls the Falcone Mafia to tell them that the drugs will be sent through a food truck. In about 3 days...' Y/n said firmly to her right-hand man handing him the last piece of document. Taking the precious documents with a bow he exits the room leaving her to her peace and quiet. Leaning back on the big leather chair Y/n closes her eyes feeling the sleep creep back into her mind and with no coffee in sight to shoo it away. Glazing her eyes in the home line phone she sees a number appearing. 'Shit... What now?' Picking up the phone and pressing it to her ear she hears a chirpy and creeps voice coming from the other side. The cheery creepily voice asked in a high pitched rhythm

-Hi, is this Y/n L/n number?

-Yes, this is she. Who is this?

-Oh, me? I'm Dr. Quinzel, the Arkham physiologist. I'm in charge of the Joker.

-Since when do they let normal, sane people around criminals?

-You are too funny Ms. L/n. I just wanted to call you and say that Mr. Joker's visiting hours will be sentenced down to one visit every 3 months.

-What?! Why?!

-Since Mr. Joker is here for the crimes he committed we want to restrict him of him usual surrounding to see what are his triggers. We will phone you when you can see him.

-Since when is that allowed? Who signed this off? Where is my signature agreeing to this-this shenanigans?

-Ha-ha...Excuse me. But there is a need for such approval of a third party since he himself signed the document.

-He did, did he? That man is in a straight jacket! He can barely piss with his hands tied behind his back and you are telling me that Joker singed WILLINGLY a document that said he could not see me?!

-Yes, exactly. Good day. Goodbye.

The woman, Quinzel, hangs up leaving Y/n to herself to calm down her storm that swirled inside. With no coffee still in sight.

Speeding into the Arkham Prison letting the engine roar loudly as possible radiating a silent alarm of the incoming rage of one woman. Stepping out of her car she hears the near guards whispers to each other 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.' Passing them with one step of her glorious heels she fumes into the building crammed with criminals halting at the reception putting on her face the fakest smile, yet. 'Hi, how are you?' 'Go-good.' 'Great. I'm here to visit Mr. Joker. I was the woman here... About 4 days ago. Remember?' 'Yeah, you wore the beautiful beige fluffy coat.' That's right and thank you it is fluffy. So can I meet him?' 'Yes, right-' 'Thanks, I know the way.'

Layering the fake sentences on to the fake conversation her heels clicked as hard as her rage was prominent on her face and hands. Walking along she heard the distant whistles and cat-calling to her form. That is some to her and some the purple Lamborghini that sat pretty waiting outside for her female owner. Making her way into a room Y/n looks at the two small chairs with an equally small table at the center of it. The room is small and wet with some tiles fallen down cracking on the floor leaving no feeling of a safe space, despite being in the most dangerous prison imaginable. Sitting in the chair she props her bag onto the table keeping it close. Patiently waiting for her boyfriend to say some sweet sweet words to her.

The door flung open with another pair of sharper heels entered the room. A tall, blonde beautiful woman with the signature white doctor's coat on her shoulders. That's her. Y/n thought, feeling her mind already sharpen her knives and aiming her guns that she conveniently abandoned at home since bringing guns here is forbidden. The woman offers her a hand to shake.

'Hi, nice to meet ya. I'm Doctor Harleen Quinzel. I'm the main psychologist here.' Yes, that's her. The equally chirpy woman smiled at Y/n replicating the same tone of cheeriness face to face. Shaking her hand with a firm squeeze Y/n replies equally warm. 'Hi, Y/n L/n.' Harleen looked at the woman in front of her opening a file of the Joker. Letting the headshot be in Y/n's peripheral sight. As much as Y/n wanted to kill her she knew she should befriend her at least to make her an inside man.

'Why are you already here, Miss L/n?' Harleen asked quickly as her fingers interlaced with each other. 'I want to visit my boyfriend. And no document will stop me.' Nodding dutifully Harleen fires back 'Well since Mr. J signed the document you have no other way than to approve his request.' Looking at the psychologist she had to laugh 'If you really talked to him you would know that I'm a good person I'm the one who keeps him in check. Thanks to me he didn't kill anyone...innocent.' 'Oh, I know he also said that you are one of the reasons he stopped doing cocaine.' 'That's right.' 'And he is having withdrawals.' 'Bullshit. The last he had a withdrawal was 2 years ago. Maybe you gave him something worth going insane. I mean we are in a prison/mental institution. I also know that many institutions such as this one spike the patient's food with any drug be it cocaine, meth, opioid-' 'That's not OUR intention. I have been here for the last 3 years and I can assure you-' Y/n looks once more at the woman seeing her glasses dip down the arch of her nose stopping at the near end. 'Don't bullshit me. I can see just buy your clothes what kind of money do you make and how do you earn it.' Her blue eyes darted at the woman in front of her that threatened to talk about the appearance and she does appreciate a good duel. 'Your hair is too lose to be around patient while other competent nurses and doctors have their hair tied neatly and tightly into a bun since they are dealing with criminals and one for the raising problems would be of an attack on the staff using the loose hair as a means to pull them in and beat them. With your shaved legs you aren't here to work and neither are your intentions. Those shaven legs are here to show off to say in a subliminal "Hey, I'm here I have shaven my legs and I'm ready to bone." while other women wear nylon socks. To cover the long leg hairs since the working hours here are brutal. And-' 'I think that's enough.' Harleen stopped her with to victory insight.

'I'm good. I can go on. So as I was saying your feet...you wear the ever so cliché heels ever. Black Louboutin. Those cost a fortune. And even the pay of the highest personnel could barely cover half of the price. And don't tell me you saved up. Since those with the white sheen are rare mother fuckers. Once in a lifetime kinda rare. And on top of that, some hair that has fallen over your ear can tell me that you flirted with someone. You know the cliche swooping the hair behind the ear when people flirt.' Harleen halts at the last words her cover blown away 'So you did. I will say a patient. Very "prolific" patient. Someone who holds ample power outside these cell walls. Someone with the green hair. Now, Miss Quinzel that is very unethical. You should know better. Since he is taken.'

Harleen cowered in fear in front of the dangerous and sharp-tongued Y/n not preferring to give in to her tactics. Y/n all of the sudden stands up without letting Harleen speak or change her mind 'Take me to him. Show me that I am indeed a trigger. Or I will make sure you never come near my man. Ever again.' With an involuntary smile, Harleen stands up ushering her out of the area and towards J.

Walking behind Y/n looked at the influx of inmates all serving their time even seeing some familiar faces, discreetly waving. Passing the steel wall barricades they enter a new part of large prison the walls aren't made fo steel but of plexiglass with small holes drilled in to give the prisoners air. Stopping at the last one Harleen back away Y/n glancing at her J, her Jerome facing a corner in his straight jacket nearby a window seeing his/her purple car.

With her green bag in her hand and other placed on the glass Y/n whispers in relief 'J? Can you turn around, please?' He looks back at her seeing her deprived eyes and narrowly open mouth, her hair let loose to move freely, the bag he gifted her in her hand and her body, damn those curves and dips. Grumbling he turns back to face the wall hearing her sweet sweet voice 'J, this woman told me you signed a document saying I was some kind of a trigger. Is that true? Am I?'

Waiting for answers that he doesn't supply his cellmates next door answer instead of him 'Baby, with that body and confidence you can be my trigger.' said a thug that doesn't deserve a glance to be speared on. 'With that body, I would be completely grateful to God for once in my life.' said another trying to reel in her attention. The comments influx in as the ruckus evolved unbearably. Besides the comments, Y/n shouted through the glass 'I'll go back home then. I will see you every three months. I miss you.' Turning away from her lover she walks away leaving him in the same stance that he greeted her with. In front of a wall near the window. The same window that exhibited his girl entering the car and driving away to continue his legacy while he resides here. Surrounded by idiots and a whore.

For. Now.

Hope you enjoyed it. Feedback is always appreciated💚

[avengerscompound]

Looking Up

Looking Up: A Hawkeye Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x Reader (kinda)

Word Count:  1539

Warnings:  action, canon-typical violence, Clint’s naked and a very proud boyfriend.

Synopsis:  Clint’s day was looking up. His girlfriend slept over for the first time. He’s pretty sure she’s a Jedi. He was having a nice bath. So how is it he’s now running down the street naked from gunmen?

Looking Up

Clint wasn’t exactly sure how things had gone this wrong, but to be fair he was never particularly sure how things ended up the way they did.  It was like he was a magnet for the most embarrassing possible things to happen to people.  You never heard stories about Iron Man getting ambushed while he was in the tub and having to jump out of his window into the dumpster below.  No one ever told stories of Captain America running down the street naked pursued by goons with guns.

Yet here he was running down the street, stark naked covered in trash being pursued by a group of armed thugs.  What made matters worse, he kept passing people and not one of them ever did anything to help.  After all the shit Clint had done for this city he would have hoped that someone, anyone, would do something to help him.  Instead, people just pulled out their cameras and started to film.

“No, please.  Go ahead.”  He yelled as he passed a group of giggling girls standing on the street corner filming as he ran past.  “Make sure you get my good side.  I’m fine by the way.  This is totally normal.”

“Get back here, archer dude!”  One of the thugs tailing him yelled out.

God, not even the hitman sent to kill him knew his call sign.  What was the fucking point?

Today had started so great too.  He had a new girlfriend.  You’d slept over for the first time.  He was pretty sure you were some kind of Jedi even though you kept saying you weren’t, and quite frankly even if that’s not what you were, the powers were the same and that was pretty awesome in his book.  You’d made him coffee and pancakes and bought them to him in bed before you’d headed home.  It was pretty a really great start to the day.

Then when he’d finally gotten up to take a bath, eight dudes had busted in his front door and started to shoot up the place.  He didn’t even have time to grab his bow.  Just his hearing aids off the sink and Lucky, who had landed on top of him when he’d landed in the dumpster, and was now on his heels barking at everyone, completely clean.  Meanwhile, Clint was streaking down Van Buren covered in trash and hoping he’d manage to get to your place without getting shot or stepping in something.

Well, there went that second one.  “What even was that?”  He said looking back over his shoulder to try and glimpse what he had stepped in while he did an awkward hop, run stagger move.  He was pretty sure he’d stepped in dog shit, but the loud bang and subsequent bullet whizzing past his head made him remember there were slightly more pressing matters.

“Shit.  Fuck.  People trying to kill me.  Forgot.”  He cursed as he started running flat out again.

He could see your building up ahead and he doubled down, sprinting as fast as his legs could carrying him, weaving in and out of the onlookers who were all still filming.  “Get inside you idiots, they’re shooting!”  He yelled.  Not that he was exactly sure why he’d warn them.  They weren’t exactly doing him any favors.  He was pretty sure his junk was already on Perez Hilton’s site with some dumbass speech bubble caption with a pun involving birds and peckers.  Probably they’d have his name listed as Hawkguy or something.

He made it to your door and pressed your buzzer.  “Come on, come on, come on.”  He muttered as he scraped his foot on the doormat.  It was dog shit.

In the only god damned stroke of luck, he’d had so far you picked up quickly.  “Hello?”  You said, your voice coming through the intercom crackly and far off.

“Hey, babe.  Could you maybe, let me up?”  There was another bang and a piece of brick exploded on the corner of the entryway.  “Now?”

He thanked the god of awesome girlfriends that instead of questioning him, you just hit the buzzer to let him inside.  He rushed through the security door and shoved it closed as the guys ran around the corner, giving them the finger through the thick security door as they fired at the door handle.

You were on the fourth floor and rather than waste time in the elevator he took the stairs, dashing up three at a time and bursting into the hallway.  You had already come to your door and were standing there waiting for him looking bewildered.  Lucky ran to you, jumping up, his tongue lolling out of his mouth and his tail wagging so fast it was just a blur.  “Hey, buddy.”  You said ruffling his fur before looking up at Clint.  “What’s going on?  Where are your clothes?”

“At home.  I - there was - ah futz.”  He muttered.  “I need you to do your Jedi trick on the guys downstairs.  Kinda now.  They’re trying to kill me.”

“I’m not a Jedi, Clint.  How many times?”  You said rolling your eyes.  “Turning themselves in?”

“Yes, please.”  He said coming over and kissing your cheek.

“Ugh, don’t kiss me.  You stink.”  You said, wrinkling your nose.  “Go inside.  I’ll take care of it.”

Clint went into your apartment and straight to your window, opening it and peering down onto the street below.  He could see the guys below gathered around the entry.  Only five of them were visible, so he assumed that the other three were either attempting to break in, or get someone to let them in.  Or both.  Probably both.

“God, they aren’t smart are they?”  He said to Lucky who had his paws up on the windowsill beside him.  The one-eyed dog wagged his tail and licked Clint’s face.

A moment later the group were all backing up into the street.  Clint turned his hearing aids up.  “Alright, see we’re back.  We just got some questions okay?”  One of the guys said.  You appeared in the street and glanced up.

“Aww, she’s putting on a show,”  Clint said, ruffling Lucky’s fur.  “Don’t tell her I said this but I think I’m falling in love with her you know?”

Lucky barked and wagged his tail faster.

“I think you should all put your guns down on the ground.”  You said waving your hand.  Your voice was raised a little, Clint assumed so he might have a better chance at hearing what was going on.

The eight men all started pulling guns out of pockets and holsters and the waistbands of their pants and putting them on the ground.  You made a gesture with your hands like you were lifting something and the guns all floated into the sky.  You then twisted your wrists and the guns fell apart and clattered to the ground.  The men backed up a little and you thrust your hand forward and made a fist.  “Uh-uh.  Not so fast.”  You shouted.  “You’re going to go to the police department and turn yourself in.  You’re going to confess to them everything you’ve ever done wrong in your lives, starting with the worst.  Then you’re going to snitch on every bad guy you know and not ask for any kind of deal.  Understood?”

The men all nodded their heads, though the fact you were holding them in place stopped them from acting on your instructions.  “Holy shit.”  Clint giggled.

“One last thing.  You’re going to take off all your clothes and walk to the station naked.”  You added releasing them from the force that had been holding them still.

They seemed frozen in place for a second and you waved your hand.  “Hurry up.”

The men all started to strip off as you stood in the street watching them.  Clint looked at Lucky, back down at you and at Lucky again.  “Yeah.  I’m done for.”  He said.

As the men started wandering down the street in the direction of the police station, cop cars began pulling up and surrounding them.  You had already disappeared inside and a few minutes later the front door opened.  Clint grinned at you and skipped over.  “Oh my god.  You are the best Jedi I have ever seen.”

“I’m not a Jedi.  Midichlorians would have been way less painful than what really caused these powers.”  You said.

“Don’t bring up Midichlorians.”  He said and leaned in to kiss you.  He was stopped by an invisible barrier you put up.

“No kissing you stink.  And you’re still naked. Go get in the shower.”  You said.

“Fine,”  Clint said with a smirk.  “Maybe… shower with me?”

You turned him around and pushed him in the direction of your bathroom.  “Get the garbage smell off you first.  Then I’ll join you.”

“Deal.”  He said and started moving on his own.  He stopped and turned back.  “Oh um… you think I can stay with you for a little while?  They shot up my place.”

You shook your head.  “Only you, huh, Clint?”

“Yeah,”  He said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head.

“Alright.  But shower.  Now.”  You said.

Clint grinned and skipped off to the shower.  Maybe today was going to be alright after all.

[malcolmwhitly-bright]

Crimson Stains

[Chapter One]

“Where’s Malcolm?”

Gil looks up from his phone, it’s weight something he’s unaccustomed to and in-result communicating with him through it is unreliable. The fact that he had been scowling at it when she asked is no real indicator if something is wrong. She just kind of hopes that since it’s out, he’s mad at it, and there’s a murder to solve he might have been talking to Bright. Who still hasn’t shown up. And he’s never late for a murder.

Gil shakes his head, putting his phone in his back pocket with that same scowl never slipping. He sighs,” he’s not picking up.” Gil looks around the crowd gathering on the street, they’ll be asked to give a statement soon. Cameras are already pointed in their directions as girls who look exactly like Malcolm’s sister talk to them.

Dani tries to swallow down the anxiety in her gut. Something feels wrong. As if things have gone amok and neither she nor Gil knows of it. As she steps down from Gil, headed to where JT is talking to their victim’s brother, his hand reaches out.

His face is pinched,” Dani…” He sighs,” I need you to go to Malcolm’s-”

Dani agrees, without any hesitation. Between them, it’s clear that they share the same fear. It makes her cheeks flush. She shouldn’t feel so strongly about a man she’s known hardly a fraction of the time as Gil. A man who does nothing but cause her problems. Yet, she’s leaving her actual partner to do the police work so she can once again go play babysitter for their consultant.

“Bright?” She knocks at his door, a small part of her realizing that she’s been to Bright’s house so many times now she knows where he keeps the spare key. Last time, while he was ‘higher’ than a kite, he insisted that she take the spare he keeps atop the door frame. She managed to convince him that it wasn’t necessary. “Bright! Hey, open the damn door! Bright!”

A muffled sound comes from his apartment. It’s not clear, it’s hard to tell if it’s that bird of his or Malcolm. She’s got a decision to make… “Okay, Bright if you’re naked I’m gonna-” blood. She opens the door and in a puddle, just two steps from the kitchen counter are deep crimson. It’s spread too far and too big.

“Oh, Bright.” She takes a tentative step forward, eyes scanning and her hand over top her gun. Malcolm’s bird moves quickly, obviously startled. Not pleased at all with the situation she’s been left in. And maybe, if this bird cares half as much about Bright as Bright does about her then maybe she’s upset.

She sighs, stepping around the pool and pulling her phone out. She types Gil’s number from muscle memory alone, despite having him in her contacts and that being the easier method. She stands, one hand in her hair and the other holds her phone to her ear. Gil picks up on the fourth ring.

“Find Malcolm? If he looks like shit tell him-”

“Gil,” the line goes silent. Her hands are shaking, her pulse racing,” he’s not here.” She takes a deep breath and her eyes become caught in the pool of blood. “There’s blood. I’m not sure… He’s not here, there’s just-just so much blood.”

She moves away from the blood, towards his couch. She’s hoping she’ll find his phone or any sign at all that he’s alive.

“But there’s no-no body, right?”

Dani steps through the kitchen. The cool nip in the air is startling, sends goosebumps all over her uncovered arms. Her chest hurts, hands tremble. “No body,” she moves the rest of the way into the apartment. An inkling, maybe an itch to keep going. She finds the bathroom, light on and the door shut. “Wait- Call an ambulance, I think I found him!”

She tosses the phone to the side, jogging to the door. She tries to open the door and finds it locked. “Bright? Bright!” She hits the door, kicking, and all rational thought leaves her mind. It takes a moment but her brain shifts from concerned fried to cop. Then she knows what to do.

The door comes off the hinges. She stands, tears running sleek off her cheeks and her breath coming out in ragged puffs. “Bright.” He’s in the shower, slumped against the wall. His right hand is laid over his stomach, painfully red gauze leaking crimson blood into the drain.

He blinks lazily, eyes opening and falling shut. She moves, stepping over the door and around it as best as she can. It’s all for nothing when she falls hard, tripping over the handle. She lands on her knees and scrambles to get to him. “Bright!”

He jerks, grunting in pain at the movement. He blinks a few times, eyes slowly finding her. He smiles, shaky but meaningful. “Da-Dani,” he moves, hand slipping limply off his chest to the side. He manages to push himself upright without his hands, groaning as he moves. “I-I… H-How are you?”

Dani moves without thought, covering the wound with her hands. He pushes himself away but the wall keeps him from getting too far away. “Bright, you’re bleeding out. Don’t ask how my day’s going. You’re bleeding all over my favorite shirt and I’ve spent an hour now looking for your ass, how do you think it’s going?.” Despite her tone he grins, even if it’s short-lived by a shuttering grimace. “What happened?”

He moves his right hand overtop hers, just resting it there rather than applying any pressure. He lets his head lean back into the corner, she can see his walls slipping. “I-I don’t know,” he swallows thickly, his whole body now trembling. “When I came home there-there was this guy…” Malcolm grunts and trembles a little harder and she can see his blood seeping between her fingers.

He blows air out of his mouth and ends up curled in on himself, chocking on his own thick blood. She reaches up, wiping his mouth when he can’t bring anymore up and leans back wheezing. “Malcolm?” She leaves her right hand on his cheek, keeping the pressure on the wound be damned when he looks so hurt, so alone despite her being so close. “Hey, breathe.”

He coughs again, dragging his eyes away from hers and letting them drop, his eyelids hardly open at all. “Yo-You… never called me Malcolm before.” He looks at her with drowsy eyes and she knows what’s coming next. They’ve shared too many of these moments, Malcolm so vulnerable and hurt that he needs someone more stable to do the adult things. It’s always hers, too.

She moves her hand but doesn’t have the nerve to press her hand back into his wound and cause him more pain. Instead, she looks between them, his blood staining the knees of her pants and her hands up his shirt. “Yeah? Well, don’t get used to it. Slip of judgment, my brain’s kinda flooded in adrenaline right now.”

Malcolm grins at her, his teeth framed in crimson. He can’t laugh, just a soft little wheeze,” m-more like Oxy-Oxytocin.” The effort he’s putting into speaking and staying awake pays off when she smiles at him.

She rolls her eyes but can’t wipe the smile away. “Oxytocin? Are you flirting with me while I use my own hands to keep you from bleeding out?”

He grins but not without a tight wince. “It’s-It’s bonding, yeah?” He coughs, those eyelids dropping a little more,” g-gonna be… gonna be best-best friends now.”

She scoffs but there are tears in her eyes. He’s dying, right in front of her… all over her. He just grins.

“Paramedics!”

She acts on sheer instincts, moving out of the way but never taking her eyes off him. His eyes remain on her too. They lay him on his back, even when he arches away from their rough touches and screams out in pain. An oxygen mask is slipped over his face, an IV needle snaking its way into his arm. Those blue eyes drift, nearly shut before blinking back open and finding her.

“Malcolm!” They lift him and his eyes shut, she panics. “Malcolm!” They blink back open, finding her after a moment. His right hand, which slipped off his chest the minute they lifted him up, gives her a small wave. “Stay awake.”

He gives her a small nod but his eyes remain open.

“Damn,” one of the EMTs slips in the blood, nearly landing on her ass at the sudden jolt it causes. “Is all this his?” She looks to Dani, who’s standing still in the bathroom. Dani can’t force herself to verbally confirm, she just nods. “Damn, tough son of a bitch.” She stands back up, righting herself.

She’s gone, just like that, with the others.

Dani doesn’t realize how bad she’s shaking until she looks down at her hands, covered in Malcolm’s blood. It makes her panic, her chest tight. “Oh-Oh God,” she moves around the door, her limbs moving and she’s not thinking. She tears off down the stairs, fumbling, and stumbling. When she gets outside, tears she hadn’t realized she was sheading, sting her eyes.

The EMTs are still there, the girl who slipped getting in the back. She spots Dani,” Hey, you coming?”

Dani runs, faster than she thought capable. She smacks her knee on the door or the car somewhere. When she sees him, laid out on the gurney, a tube down his throat her own heart clinches. Her chest hurts. She grabs his hand, the left one that always trembles. Even now, she can feel it trembling in her hand. “Malcolm?”

His eyes don’t open. He doesn’t respond.

She doesn’t think. She stands up, the EMTs watching with cautious eyes. Her heart is racing, tears streaming down her eyes, and she leans down and kiss him. It’s soft, his lips stretched around the tube, and it’s more of his cheek than lips but… “Oh, God.”

The monitor flatlines.

[jordan102791]

Velvet Lace part 9

The stillness seeped into her bones. The occasional page turn chirping from the quiet that seemed eternal until broken. Screaming so loud it made ears ring. An old smell pleasantly raining in the air. Diana leaped into the leather throne she had claimed the second day in the shop.

Quinn had pulled her from her backpack carrier within seconds of Josh stepping through the portal from the real world to this one of fantasy and mystery, romance and horror. She would argue that the people in these tomes were more real than often given credit. To escape the dull gray of this world and enter another that was closer than it seemed. Close enough to just be a finger tip's distance away. The older man had brought down a towel from the store room, preparing for her arrival. Bunching it up into the chair and tucking her in. Her own dais from which to watch the strangers pass by. Some reaching out to brush the fur on her side before continuing on.

The tinkling sounds from above the door announce the newest entrant, but not a new customer. The woman in her peach dress that the wind bites starvingly at has been in most days at least once that Diana had noticed. But this wasn't all the shadow had noted in her black book about the woman. No, she watched the way the woman's gaze lingered on Josh when she swayed passed, skirts dancing in time to her hips. The woman wasn't shy, but certainly not the type to usually make the 1st move, no matter how much the idea scrolled across her face. She would just quietly flirt and behold the man who had yet to notice her attention. Men, the cat thought. Anyone could see that her insignificant search requests were only the ruse her heart wished would communicate to his own. Anyone except Josh Wells apparently.

She would need to be going on her way soon she supposed. But perhaps, she mused, she could leave his life a bit happier than she'd found it. Maybe someone to comfort him in his time of need when she would make her escape in the night, venturing into the world of one of the adventures penned in a book she surrounds herself with each day. Yes, he has been kind to her. Kinder than any other has been to a stray on the streets. She would try to do him this favor.

The creeping black smoke rolled across the floor to where her temporary master kneeled to pull a jacketless book from a box. The ripened peach tucked around the corner, being summoned like a beacon. The predator laying in wait for her chance to strike. The woman's fair skin, glowing from the sun raining through the windows steps around the end cap bringing her knee to face with Josh. Startled, he stands. Fishing for the words to ask if she needs help. The quiet chatter awkward as they both stumble through sentences that would make a sinner's ears bleed with how polite they are.

Now. This is the chance, Diana hoped she would be strong enough, but only her actions would tell. Strolling up, she rubs her cheeks to the man's pant leg. Lulling into a false sense of safety. The black cat lunges, throwing all her weight to the backs of his legs. He fumbles the book gripped in his hand as he tries to right himself. His hands going to the woman's arms, pushing his body close to hers. Steadying himself, he makes a quick retreat. The interaction reddening both parties' cheeks, murmuring apologies. A gentle, not wholly disappointed, smile pings her lips, while her eyes cast down to the floor. "Ummm... If you're all right, I'm gonna head to the back to grab more books," Josh practically whispers before racing off.

How can he not see the heady flush that took over the woman's face at the contact? A cherry blossom blooming into spring. The cat shakes her head before heading back to the warm leather arm chair, scheming ways to get him closer to the pleasant fruit he might enjoy a bite from if he just plucked it from the tree.

*****

A screeching shatters the reverie, a peaceful one for once, jolting Diana awake. The warm blankets and solid length beside her skittering across the bed away. Her golden eyes opening, scanning for dangers she cannot perceive.

"What? Why are you screaming?" She asks in a stranger's voice that hasn't been her own in many moons.

"Stranger in my bed. Stranger in my bed," his tone edging on hysteria. "Naked stranger in my bed. Pretty, naked stranger in my bed."

"Shit," she says full of emotion.

"Shit? That's all you can say? Shit? Who the fuck are you? And why are you in my bed? And where are your clothes?"

At his final question, she finally peers down, confirming his words. Her lush body, a distant memory now firmly cemented in her face. "Shit," she says emphatically, scrambling to tug the sheet from the bed around her body. Twinning snakes coiled tightly, holding butterfly wings around her.

"Yes! You said that already, but who the fuck are you? And how'd you get in my house?"

"Shit, this is awkward. I haven't done this since I was a wee kitten," shame steeping her voice in dread. "I'm Diana. Your cat."

"Ok, so you're a very pretty, insane, naked girl in my bed. Fantastic. I'm gonna go ahead and call the police now."

"No, no, no! Josh, stop! Don't do that!"

"How do you know my name?"

"I told you. I'm Diana. Your cat," her tone hinting the answer should be obvious. Listen, if I wasn't Diana how would I have gotten in? Or know you work at the book store? Or know that the cat's name, my name, is Diana?"

"Bc obviously you're stalking me." His fingers ppised to dial the emergency number.

"Josh I'm not stalking you. Just stop for a second. Let me explain!" She takes a step towards him, tripping in the sheet. His retreat hasty to keep the space between them. "Josh please," she pleads. "5 minutes. Just give me 5 minutes to explain and convince you. And if after that you still don't believe me than call the police and have me hauled away."

"Oh, so I need your permission to call the police?"

"No of course not, but please, I'm begging you. Just 5 minutes." The sincerity in her golden eyes that he shakes the familiarity off at the sight of, warms him only mildly. But it's still just enough the thaw his fingers from their rigor mortis around the phone.

"5 minutes. That's it. Starting now. Go!"

"I really am your cat," she says holding up a hand, waving off his denials. "I'm a shapeshifter. This is what I really look like, but I can become a cat too. In fact, I've been a cat for a very long time now. And last night was the 1st time I've lost control of a shift since I was a kid. I'm sorry, you were never meant to find out, especially not like this. I was just supposed to slip out one night and you never see me again."

A confused stricken look envelopes his features. "Say I believe you, you were just going to leave?"

The embarrassed shame she already felt being drowned and twisted into the shame that now ate anyway at her belly. Eating her, consuming her from the inside out. Chasing heat up into a face that felt it might burst from the blood packing in. She doesn't answer him. Her bright eyes avoiding a meeting in the middle with his own.

"Right." He sucks his teeth and nods. "So you're a cat, huh? Fine. Show me."

Her eyes snap up to his finally. "Show you?"

"Yes. Show me. Turn back into my cat. Prove that you are what you claim to be. Seeing is believing and frankly I'm not sure I'll believe it until then."

Running throught the scenarios in her head, she nods to the carpet. "All right. I'll show you." She looks to him, searching his face. Preparing heraelf to run when things go badly. She knew she needed to leave soon, she just didn't expect it to be like this. Taking a step back to the middle of the room, she drops the sheet. His gaze too startled by the bones crunching and reforming to think on her brazen behavior.

And the shouting began again. He hadn't thought she really could change, the midnight fur running from her curly hair across the curves and planes of her body. A tail creeping from her skin, swishing and slashing the air. Compacting down to the feline he had shared his bed with for almost a week. The only thing remaining of the gorgeous woman in the equally remarkable cat were those amber eyes that glowed in any light. The blood slamming down into his feet making him sway and catch himself on the dresser.

His furry companion shifting her weight on her feet before growing and becoming again. "You really are a cat," his eyes wide, showing whites like a horse reading to bolt.

"I am," her voice barely a whisper, but he still hears it in the gelatinous silence filling the room. Her nakedness not seeming to concern her, he bends to snatch up the sheet handing it back to her. She nods her thanks before cacooning herself back in it.

[smoaking-greenarrow]

Could you maybe write a speculation fic for ep 7x13. Maybe with Stanley breaking into Olicity’s home and kidnapping Felicity & Will to torment Oliver? I’m totally in love w/ your account.

I didn’t have time for a speculation fic last week :/ But for the first time in a while, Arrow actually succeeded my expectations! I literally do not have a single note on what I’d change. If I were to write a speculation fic, it would’ve been incredibly similar to what we saw happen with the Queen family in 7x13 (although the paralyzing drug and Stanley’s backstory were incredibly creative details. It’s actually much cooler than what I would’ve come up with). 

I do have this story that I wrote after the episode Stanley escaped from prison, though. If you wanna check it out, anon :)

Soooo how about 7x14-ish stuff instead?

After Oliver came home, Felicity never thought she’d step foot in Slabside again.

Yet, with the way their life together tended to snowball, twisting and tumbling unexpectedly, she probably should have prepared herself better for this. She should have been ready.

Being ready, or rather not being ready, is the exact thing that compelled her to come back to this awful place, though. An annoyingly persistent need to seek the truth.

As the guard closes the door behind her, Felicity sees the man who can answer her questions. Although he looks so much smaller than she remembered him. Maybe being drugged and paralyzed, sitting between the two most important men in her life made Stanley Dover seem more intimidating than he did now.

Now, he is an inmate again. Pale, exhausted, and scared. Just as Oliver must have seen him all those months ago. He seems frail. Like a man who couldn’t hurt a fly, if only because he doesn’t look capable of it.

But Felicity made sure to do her homework on this man. Any man, woman, or metahuman who carried a grudge against her husband warranted digging from now on.

“Felicity?” He sees her through the glass, waving as if she’s a friend rather than a failed attempt at murder.

She couldn’t begin to understand someone like Stanley, nor did she really want to. But she didn’t come here to fight with him. So, Felicity plasters on a smile, coming over to sit and slowly picking up the phone. She waits until he does the same. “Hi, Stanley.”

To his credit, Stanley looks ashamed. He averts his gaze. “I never thought I’d see you again.” His eyes flicker up to her, sparking with something that makes her shiver before he asks, “did Oliver send you?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “Oliver won’t be visiting you. Stanley, I wouldn’t get your hopes up. You won’t be going anywhere near my husband.”

His lips twitch, and then a curt laugh escapes him. “You’re protective. Fierce.” He nods, “I could always see why Oliver fell in love with you, Felicity. I told you, I know him better than anyone. I’m glad that he found someone who deserves him. Adores and appreciates him like the hero that he is. You’re the only person left in his life who is worthy.”

Pausing for a moment, Felicity catches her breath. She’d just been thinking a moment ago how weak and pathetic Stanley had looked. She’d almost felt bad for him. But as he speaks, she’s reminded of how dangerous Stanley Dover is. And how she needs to make sure he never sees the outside of Slabside again.

“That’s actually what I came to talk to you about,” Felicity answers. “You said something the other night...and I need to ask you about it.”

Leaning closer, Stanley grips the phone, “okay, Felicity...ask.”

“You said you needed to warn Oliver.”

Stanley leans back, his eyes on her face. For what he lacks in sanity, he makes up for in awareness. Felicity realized last week that there isn’t a point lying to this man. He would know. She’s hoping that transparency will earn her honesty. “This is about those friends of his, isn’t it?”

Felicity sighs, “you told him that he can’t believe everything they say. That you’ve done things to protect him. And I can’t seem to get your words out of my head, Stanley.”

“Oliver didn’t want to listen...”

Lifting her jaw, Felicity looks into the man’s eyes. “That’s what I came here to do.”

After a long pause, one where Felicity knows that Stanley is trying to read her and she keeps her eyes uncomfortably focused on him, he finally speaks. “That Ramirez man who Oliver puts his neck out for again and again...and in return, Wild Dog gets him sent right in here.” Stanley seethes, and Felicity can already see him escalating. “And the metahuman who thinks she’s helping him, as if a badge is what he needs. As if a police officer is a worthy title for Oliver Queen.” The vein in his head forms as his face grows red, his voice getting louder, “I had to hurt her,” he grits through his teeth. “I had to take her scream.”

With her stomach rolling, Felicity stares at Stanley, feeling abnormally fascinated by him...now that there’s a thick glass between them that keeps his violent, terrifying actions away from her. The last thing she needs is to be a target for someone like that.

“Oh my god,” Stanley’s voice breaks her from her thoughts, her eyes snapping back up to him. But he’s not looking at her face. His gaze is on her stomach, where her hand had instinctively moved. Seeing the look of realization on his face makes Felicity’s hand fly away from her belly.

Stanley’s eyes travel back up to hers, and she knows that he knows.

Standing up, Felicity steps back without a word. “Wait!” He calls after her, his hand slapping against the glass. She shouldn’t have come. It didn’t do any good. “There’s more you need to hear, Felicity! Listen! You have to listen!”

“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know, Stanley,” she shakes her head, clutching her purse tightly on her shoulder.

“It’s about John Diggle!” 

Felicity stops, turning back to look at the wild expression in the man’s eyes. The desperation. 

“He’s not the man that you and Oliver think he is.”

One thing that makes Oliver more nervous than the people behind any of his scars, is a silent Felicity Smoak.

His wife always has something to say. When she’s not offering him profound advice and support, she’s probably babbling like the adorable genius he’s used to. He knows that she’s going through just as much as him, but it’s always unsettling if Felicity doesn’t have an opinion to give. 

Oliver expected her to have a hard time with this. He just hadn’t expected her not to let him hear it.

He wants to hear it.

“Felicity,” Oliver glances at her as he drives, noticing the way she’s picking at her nail polish. He frowns, reaching over to cover her hands with one of his. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she answers, her eyes widening a bit.

“You’ve been saying ‘nothing’ for days now. Talk to me...”

Felicity fidgets, playing with his index finger, her eyes focused on her lap. “Let’s just get to John’s, okay?”

He sighs, trying to figure it out as he watches her. “Is it William?” Oliver asks lowly, squeezing her fingers. “I know we told him we’d visit in a couple months, but I can call Samantha’s parents...maybe we can take a weekend trip to Central City.”

“It—” she purses her lips, “that would be great, Oliver. We should.”

“Felicity,” he whispers, “please. You’ve been acting strange since William left. What’s going on with you?”

Hearing the hurt in his voice, Felicity looks back at him. And she smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Everything’s going to be fine, Oliver.”

He blinks, feeling his shoulders tense. “Going to be?”

“We can talk about it later,” she soothes, “we’re almost at John and Lyla’s.”

Oliver hesitates, turning onto their street. “You’re scaring me, Felicity.”

“Honey,” Felicity forces a laugh, rubbing her hand against his arm. “I need you to trust me.” He nods, and she returns it. “Hopefully John can clear some things up,” his wife mumbles as he parks.

She gets out of the car, hurrying towards the house, moving like she can’t wait to get away from him. And Oliver takes a moment to let out a deep breath before he follows.

Putting his arms behind his back, Oliver steps behind his wife, leaning down to her ear as she knocks on the Diggles’ door. 

“Hmm,” he whispers, letting his lips touch her skin, feeling that shiver run through her as he presses his chest against her back. “You know that I have very effective ways of getting you to tell me things, right? I’m prepared to put the salmon ladder back up if I need to, baby.”

“Oh, no-ho-ho, mister,” she shoots him a glare over her shoulder. “Your sweaty and naked self is what got us into trouble in the first place.”

His eyebrows push together, confusion on the tip of his tongue, but the door swings open. “Hey, guys,” Lyla greets them with a smile. “John’s just putting JJ down for a nap. Come on in.”

They follow Lyla inside, and Oliver can’t help but notice that Felicity only grows even more tense as they walk down the hall. And when she sees John, Felicity crosses her arms. “We need to talk.”

Closing the door to his son’s bedroom, John raises his eyebrows at her confrontational tone. It surprises Oliver, too. “Okay,” Dig says slowly, “about what?”

“The ghost initiative,” she cocks her head to the side. Oliver freezes, watching as John and Lyla share a look. Felicity laughs in the silence. “Well, that’s not quite denial I’m hearing.”

“We needed to bring the initiative back,” John explains, glancing at Oliver. “I was going to tell you,”

Felicity steps in front of him, forcing him to look at her. He does, and for the first time, Oliver clocks the guilt in John’s eyes. Remorse that he directs right at Felicity. 

“Is Diaz on the squad?”

Diggle sighs, running his hand over his face, “Felicity...Diaz has a connection to a criminal named Dante. ARGUS needs to find him, and Diaz is our only shot at it.”

“So...” Felicity shakes her head incredulously. “You’re working with him. You’re working with the man that tried to kill my entire family.”

“We need him.”

Oliver closes his eyes, dropping his head. “For what?” He sighs, understanding what had Felicity so tense.

“Intel. Dante runs an organization called the Ninth Circle. It’s like a high-class black market. Items are sold through underground auctions...things that people have no business getting their hands on. Based on what Diaz has told us, Dante has access to nuclear codes, bombs, and plenty of other weapons that could kill a whole lot of people.”

High stakes. It irritates him that this is the first he’s heard about it. Oliver shakes his head, glancing between the three of them. “When is the next auction?”

“Tomorrow night,” Lyla chimes in. “The team is going on their first mission. We were going to wait...but Diaz says that Dante has his hands on something incredibly dangerous.”

Felicity scoffs, “and you believe him?”

The aggression in her voice surprises Oliver, and raises more than a few questions. “How did you know about that Lyla and John resurrected the squad?”

Her eyes snap to him, and she lets out a sharp breath. “Stanley told me.”

“Stan—” Oliver stalls, his jaw clenching. “When?”

“This morning,” she holds her chin high, pushing her shoulders back. “I may have paid a visit to Slabside.”

Oliver’s eyebrows shoot up, ready to talk about that. But Lyla cuts him off. “It’s not a matter of believing Diaz,” she draws back the conversation. “It’s just that we can’t take the risk. Diaz said that the last time he was in contact with Dante, Dante was after a powerful virus. One that could wipe out an entire city if it’s exposed in the air.”

Oliver freezes, knowing exactly the weapon that could do that. One he’d seen in Hong Kong. One that had almost leveled Star City. “The Alpha-Omega virus? How the hell did this Dante guy get his hands on something like that?”

“Most likely...it was stolen from ARGUS and given to him,” John mumbles. “Like I said, this isn’t someone to mess around with. We have to take him seriously.”

“Fine,” Oliver nods, pausing for a moment. “You better just make damn sure that he stays far away from my family.”

“Are you ready to tell me what’s bothering you,” Oliver finally asks, keeping his eyes on the door of the venue. But he feels his wife turn her head to look at him from the passenger seat.

“You want to discuss this here? In the middle of an ARGUS mission?”

“We’re not technically in the mission,” he purses his lips.

Felicity snorts, “no, we’re just stalking it.”

“We’re—” he huffs, throwing a glance at her. “We’re observing.”

“Sure,” she shrugs, her sass coming out in full swing. “That’s probably what Stanley the Stalker calls it, too.”

Letting out a deep breath, Oliver shakes his head. “Speaking of Stanley...let’s talk about your trip to Slabside yesterday.”

“Let’s...not,” she groans.

“I’m getting worried about you, Felicity. It’s not like you to keep things from me...”

“Ah,” she nods, raising her eyebrows at him. “I forgot. That’s your thing, isn’t it?”

Oliver cocks his head to the side, “you’re really upset about something.” He frowns, “deflecting isn’t really your thing.”

“What are you,” his wife rolls her eyes. “The expert on all things Felicity Smoak?”

In response, he shrugs, “only if there’s some kind of award for my expertise...” Oliver relaxes a bit when Felicity chuckles, a smile spreading across her lips, just as he’d been hoping.

“Look, Oliver...” she sighs. “There is something that I need to tell you. Something we need to talk about. But I need you to trust me when I say that we will. And that everything is okay.”

He analyzes her for a long moment, “you’re okay?”

“More than,” Felicity smiles back, lifting her hand to graze his cheek, her fingers gliding down his neck to the collar of his shirt.

“When do you think you’ll let me in on this something, then?”

“Maybe when we’re not stalking our friends,” she scrunches her nose, making a face.

“Observ—”

“Uh huh,” Felicity laughs, her fingers squeezing his shoulder. “Observing.”

“Okay,” he breathes, checking the door one more time before he turns his body towards Felicity. “Come here,”

She grins, meeting him halfway. Oliver hums, combing his fingers through Felicity’s hair, brushing his nose against hers.

Her lips barely touch his before gunshots and yelling interrupt them.

“Wait here,” he grumbles, moving quickly out of the car and towards the building. By the time he crosses the street, people are screaming, running from the door as the gunshots grow louder.

Oliver makes his way inside, taking a moment to assess his surroundings. 

Lyla and John are back to back, fighting off armed men in suits. Turning his head, Oliver clocks Diaz near the bar, dragging a man’s face across a countertop of broken glass. He also notices Carrie Cutter, China White, and Joe Wilson, all fighting off Dante’s men.

Identifying the ones he needs to worry about, Oliver joins the fight. He steers clear of Diaz, but watches John and Lyla’s backs, as well as Cutter, Joe, and China.

Dig’s team might be lacking in numbers in the fight, but they have the skill. And it doesn’t take long for Dante’s men to begin retreating. “Is he here?” Oliver asks John, looking around the crowd.

“I saw a group of them run out the back door as soon as the shooting started. He’s probably long gone by now.”

Without a word, Oliver rushes back to the door he’d come through, knowing immediately that if Dante had planned his escape route behind the building, then Felicity probably noticed something. Which would be fine...if his wife didn’t have a history of stumbling into trouble. “I left Felicity in the car back here,” he mumbles, pushing through the crowd.

Oliver bursts through the door, his eyes landing on the car. And Felicity is still inside it. Thank god. 

As soon as his wife sees him and the others, she unbuckles her seat belt and opens the door.

He reaches the car before she can get out, kneeling in front of the open door. “Dante came out this way,” he explains. “Did you see anything?”

Felicity nods, her eyes wide. “A car pulled up right next to me,” she huffs, “I think it was him that they picked up. Oliver, I think I know what Dante looks like.”

“And you managed to stay in the car,” he raises an eyebrow at her; impressed and pleased, but also surprised. 

Felicity just nods, her shoulders slumping. 

“Hey,” Oliver puts his hands on her knees, his eyebrows furrowing. She’s pale, looking a little too shell-shocked for his liking. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Felicity breathes, shaking her head. “That was just...” Her hand slips from his, moving up to her stomach. Just as quickly, it drops, and her eyes fly back to him. “You’re not hurt? You’re okay?”

Oliver stares up at her, nodding slowly. “Let’s get home.”

Blinking, Felicity purses her lips, “Yeah, I just,” her face drops, and she holds up a finger before she’s suddenly pushing his hands away, climbing over him to get out of the car.

“Felicity?” He jolts up, chasing after her while she runs towards the nearest bush she can find. And his heart hammers in his chest, concern rising in his throat while she vomits. Oliver quickly reaches for her, adjusting her hair out of her face just in time to avoid a mess.

When it’s over, she stands upright, pressing her hand against her mouth and closing her eyes. 

He knows, as surely and as confidently as he knows the woman he married, that something is wrong. It sets a knot in his chest, making him want to take Felicity’s lead and empty his own stomach’s contents in the bushes. Something is wrong.

As much as he wants to comfort Felicity, bring her home and take care of her, he also knows that she’s not telling him something important. Keeping something from him. “You need to tell me, Felicity.” He pleads, his voice barely above a whisper.

She releases a deep breath, knowing just what he means. “I’m pregnant, Oliver.”

His mind goes completely blank. And he stares. She stares back.

Before he can even think of a response, of anything, John and Lyla catch up to them. 

They dive right into planning; discussing Dante’s whereabouts and next moves, explaining the transfer processes of the squad. 

Felicity eventually looks away from him, listening and nodding as John and Lyla fill them in as if they were an intended piece of the mission tonight, rather than party crashers.

And Oliver tries to focus. Felicity seems to, so he does his best to listen.

But all he can think about is what she said. 

Felicity is pregnant. With a baby. A baby that is also his baby. They’re having a baby together.

Once the initial shock wears off, approximately five minutes after his wife had dropped the bomb on him, he’s feeling antsy. But he realizes quickly that it’s not a nervous kind of antsy.

It’s an excited one.

Clearing his throat, Oliver places a hand on Felicity’s back, interrupting Dig. “We need to get home,” he blurts.

John glances between them, “yeah...okay. Thanks for your help tonight, Oliver.”

“We’ll call you when we know more,” Lyla offers.

“And Felicity...” John looks down at her, pausing for a moment. Then he gently pulls her into his arms. “I’m sorry. I would never do anything to hurt you or your family. I love you, you know that, right?”

As she pulls back, Felicity blinks away moisture in her eyes. Tears that appear to surprise her as much as they surprise Dig.

Guiding her back towards the car, Oliver waves to John and Lyla, who each stare at Felicity with varying levels of confusion and concern. “Sorry,” she babbles, “hormones are all over the place—I don’t know why! I mean. What?”

“Honey,” Oliver mumbles, “home, now, please.”

“Right, bye!” She waves as he pulls her to the car. 

Felicity glances up at him as they walk away. “Oliver, you’re pale...maybe I should drive.”

He shakes his head, helping her into the passenger seat. “I’m fine.”

Once he’s behind the wheel, he catches his breath, his hands on the wheel and his eyes on his wife. His pregnant wife. “Home,” he whispers, glancing away and starting the car.

“Please say something,” Felicity finally speaks after long minutes of silence, her voice small.

Oliver glances down at her, surprised to see how anxious she looks. “When did you find out?”

“Dr. Schwartz told me last week. After she tested our blood,” she explains. “I just didn’t want to mention it so soon after William...”

“And you’re sure? I mean, there’s just—there’s no way that this could be wrong?” Oliver whispers. 

He’s so ready and willing to let go of his last bit of doubt. The last dark spot in his mind wanting to hold him back from accepting the happiness that wants to overtake him. Felicity bites her lip, and nods.

Taking in a deep breath, Oliver releases it slowly. 

As he drives towards the apartment, he can feel Felicity’s eyes on the side of his face. Gently, she rests her hand on his leg, getting his attention again. “Tell me this is good news, Oliver,” she whispers. “I’m scared...but I really want it to be good news.”

“I’m scared, too,” he answers lowly, honestly, offering her a smile. “But we’re in it together. Baby, this is better than good. I didn’t think it was possible for you to make me happier than you already have, for me to love you more than I already do...I’m excited, Felicity.” An unexpected laugh bubbles in his throat. “There’s so much to process, but I’m excited.”

He shifts his eyes from the road, taking a moment to appreciate the gorgeous, perfect smile that crosses her face. “I’m excited, too.”

And there’s nothing else they need to say in that moment. Nothing that they both don’t already understand. Nothing that can’t wait until they’re home. When he can look into her eyes, touch her, hold her.

Celebrate with her.  

[sabrinaprotectionsquad-blog]

AU Yea August 31 - The Spectacular Ladybug

@auyeahaugust

Day 31 - dealer’s choice

Decided to upload the beginning of my Ladybug is Spider-man AU. a silly idea which turned way more elaborate than originally intended. Might do a whole series. 

This is the end of Au Yea August, it’s been a blast. I’ve written a little over 80.000 words for this event which is SO wild, never written even close to that amount before. It’s been a little stressful but a lot of fun. I’m sad I missed about 10 days but still, awesome stuff.

”30 bucks” Gabriel Agreste stated coldly, reviewing the images on his desk.

“30!? But the ad said 100 for each!” Marinette protested, the photographs she’d taken were good, dynamic and perfectly framed, she couldn’t imagine what was wrong with them.

The serious looking man sighed deeply, lighting a cigarette slowly and looking up at Marinette from his chair.

“Maria was it?”

“Marinette sir”

He waved his hand in a ‘whatever’ motion. “Marinette, if I ask for pictures of Brad Pitt do you know what I want?” he asked coldly, pausing to inhale a breath of smoke, Marinette didn’t answer, figuring he was going to tell her regardless, which he did “I’m not looking for him smiling for a photographer with his wife, if I wanted that I would just take it from his Instagram. No, what I want Marinette…” the way he said her name was condescending and harsh. The blue-haired photographer wished she could look away from his stern, iron gaze, but he held her eyes with his. His cold stare threatening her to even dare look away from him. “- are pictures of him leaving the house of one of his seven mistresses at 4 in the morning; at a party with a nose full of cocaine; having sex with a sandwich.” Marinette almost smiled at the last line, but Agreste’s expression let her know he was dead serious.

He placed a hand on one of the pictures Marinette was proudest of, perfectly posed in mid yo-yo swing, he slid it forward towards her “I do not want pictures because I want to admire her costume choices. I need pictures because I need stories. Ladybug helping an old lady over the streets might make a nice fluff piece in the community papers, but here at the Daily Bugle, we expose the truth, our readers expect us to shine a light at the news and expose the naked, sinful facts.”  

Marinette felt her blood freezing as Agreste took another drag of his cigarette without ever breaking eye contact. She felt exposed, fearing that his glaring eyes could somehow see through her clothes at the red, dotted costume hiding just under her wrinkled suit. She’d faced several villains since she first jumped in spandex, but she’d rather face an army of superhuman lizard people than have to even think about what would happen if this man was somehow able to figure out her identity.

“But… what if there are no… sinful facts sir? Maybe she really is just a hero?” she half smiled at the unamused man in front of her.

Gabriel sighed deeply, putting out his cigarette “heroes don’t wear masks. There’s only one reason to hide yourself from the world, because you have something to hide. Even if Ladybug actually believes she’s a hero, she’s still inspiring any unstable person in New York to jump in their mom’s stockings and hit the streets with their father’s gun. If she really wanted to help she would join the police or stay out of it and leave it to the professionals.”

Marinette could feel herself shaking, she wanted to tell him off, to convince him how wrong he was. But if she tried to he might suspect something, it was already risky to start taking pictures of herself, she had to keep her identity secret no matter what. Agreste took out a notebook and started writing in it, breaking eye contact with Marinette for the first time since he looked up from her photos. It gave Marinette a chance to finally breathe, to find her confidence a little bit again.

“Maybe she has a reason!”

Agreste ripped the piece of paper out of his notebook and collected all but three of the pictures, then gave that to Marinette.

“Show this to Alya outside, she’ll pay you.”

Marinette took the things handed to her instinctually, she needed more money than this measly hand-out, but at least it was a start. She boiled with the need to tell the smug bastard off but she decided to swallow her pride and walk away like an adult.

“Oh and one last thing. Don’t meet your heroes. They will always disappoint you.”

Marinette closed the door to the office behind her then sighed heavily, she felt like she’d aged 5 years in the short conversation with the ruthless editor in chief.

She unwrapped a hard candy and popped it in her mouth, the sweet treat filling her mouth with strawberry and mellowing out her body. She’d always had a sweet tooth, but after she became Ladybug sweets had become like an addiction, she could influence her mood with candy, she could even get drunk off of it. She told herself not to overdo it, but it was hard to actually live by.

“First time meeting Gabriel?” a friendly amused voice rang out from next to her, Marinette hadn’t even noticed someone sitting so close to the office. The voice belonged to a brown and red-haired woman, she wore large glasses which framed her face, a dark brown lipstick to match her beautiful dark skin. She wore a women’s business suit and her long hair was partially braided, running back into a bun.

She looked like the type of woman who spends 3 hours getting ready for her shift at 6 am, the kind of woman who had her things in order. Meanwhile, Marinette spend her nights patrolling the city, slept until noon, threw on a t-shirt and pants and maybe remembered to brush her hair before putting it in the pigtails she’d worn since grade 4.

“uh, yea… he’s a little intense” Marinette smiled back at her.

“Don’t let him get you down if he bought your pictures that means he loves them, though he’d never admit it. Here, let me take care of it” she reached a handout and received Agreste’s note, reading it over quickly.

“Sheesh, you’re gonna have to take a lot more photos if you wanna afford that Lamborghini.” She smiled up at Marinette, handing her three ten dollar bills.

Marinette half smiled as she received the money, thanking the woman and turned to walk away dejected, knowing she wouldn’t be able to pay rent this month either.

“Hold on there girl, let me see your pictures” the wonder woman of the business world called her back. Marinette tried putting on a brave face as she faced her. She handed her pictures down to the woman who began inspecting them professionally. Looking at the workplace beauty Marinette couldn’t help but compare their age, she definitely wasn’t older than Marinette, she might even be younger, and she looked like she had her entire life together. Maybe she’d spend less time eating radioactive ladybugs, but it wasn’t like Marinette’s life had been on the fast track before then.

“These are good! You’ve got a real way with framing. I’m Alya by the way” she extended her hand to Marinette who was all too happy to shake it and take the praise, it was nice hearing someone other than her parents complimenting her photography skills.

“How did you get these? Some of our reporters have been chasing that bug for weeks without getting a good shot like this!”

“oh uh… the trick is to let her come to you” Marinette chuckled awkwardly “I keep up with reports on where she currently is and try to guess which way she’ll leave, then sometimes I get lucky” Marinette knew someone would end up asking her about it, she was glad Agreste hadn’t been the one to do so, his intense stare would have made her forget the line she practiced at least twenty times in the mirror.

Alya whistled impressed “you’ve got a real sense for this!”

“according to Agreste a real sense for this would mean finding people f… having sex with… sandwiches” saying it out loud she felt so silly, how in the world could he have said something like that with a straight face, more importantly, how could she possibly have listened to it with a straight face!?

Alya burst out laughing “right that was a fun news week!”

“Wait! That actually happened!?” Marinette asked horrified.

“Oh Gods, no, but because of an editing mistake, two stories lay on top of one another in a way that made it read like that. Thankfully we caught it in time but we all use it sometimes, y’kno, workplace banter and such. Just glad no one was fired.” Alya smiled heartily at Marinette, giving her a sense that the wonder woman in front of her was actually really kind, she really was the whole package.

Alya tapped the pictures contemplatively “you need money right?”

“Of course but I’ll tell you now, butt-stuff is extra,” Marinette said jokingly making Alya laugh.

Alya got up and opened the door to Agreste’s office, Marinette swore she could feel a chill coming from inside the monsters den, she couldn’t believe Alya could just rip the door open without even knocking, wasn’t she afraid he’d eat her!?

“Hey Gabe, I’m taking pigtails to the gala, I need a good photographer k?” Gabe? The man sitting in that office could be called many things, but Gabe could not possibly be one of them.

To Marinette’s surprise, Gabriel walked over to stand in the door, taking in the two women.

She could feel his judging eyes sizing her up even more than before, an unhappy twinge at the corner of his lip. “It’s your call Alya. It might do you some good Marinette, to see what a real hero looks like. Though do wear something more appropriate, you’ll be there to record the news, not make them.”

Marinette wanted desperately to tell him off again, but she was painfully aware that she looked like a hobo that walked in off the streets; she didn’t have a leg to stand on.

“Yes, boss” Alya winked at him, making finger-guns playfully as he disappeared again into his office.

Alya smiled broadly at Marinette who could only chuckle back nervously.

[misunderstandingsofmarkusdorn]

Love in the Strangest Place, part 2

Weeks go by and every day, Markus and I complete our chores together and then retire to the sofa we've deemed our own. I feel myself growing closer to him and have opened up more.

One day, we find ourselves on the sofa watching tv when I feel his hand take hold of mine. I never thought that the slightest touch could make my entire body feel so much all at once. I knew it then. That I had fallen in love with Markus Dorn.

"Markus?"

"Yes?"

"I want to tell you now." I grip his hand tighter and look into his eyes. "The reason I am here."

"Ok. I am listening."

A month earlier, my mother's cocktail party....

"Darling, my how you have grown." His fingers traced along my cheek, the smell of scotch oozed off of him. "Just like your mother. A beauty to behold." Desperately, I tried to distance myself from him, but he pulled me closer and kissed my neck with tiny pecks as I protested. His name was Rolfe. My mother had been quite taken with him for many years, but he had not asked for more than a night in his bed when she really wished for a proposal. Just as I thought I had finally pushed him away and rid myself of him, I saw her face from across the room. Shock and pain all at once, quickly followed by anger. Her heels clicked with fury as she made her way towards us. I felt her hand slap me so hard across my face, I went numb.

"It's bad enough you ruined my life just being born, but now you take a man from me!!"

"No mama! I swear I didn't do anything. He-"

"Get out!" She screamed at me while pushing me towards the door.

"The next day, the police came for me. My mother called me a thief. She claimed I stole some pearls from her. It didn't end there. She also told them I was offering myself to random men. Even married men. That is why I am here. She was supposed to he my mother and protect me, Markus. She didn't." A tear rolled down my cheek and I fell into his arms as he pulled me in close to his chest.

"We are going to get out of here." He whispered and kissed my forehead. "I have a plan. I am going to Italy. Well, we...are going to Italy. Just me and you, (y/n)." He smiles down cupping both my cheeks. "I love you (y/n)." I could have melted right there. It was all I wanted to hear.

"I love you too, Markus."

A couple of days go by and we are working in the courtyard when Markus comes up beside me.

"It is time (y/n)"

"What?"

"It's time to escape. There is a section over there where the fence is gaped open. The other side leads out onto a quiet side street. No one will see us. We just have to wait for the guards to change places." He looks back towards the guards while taking my hand.

"But what if we get caught?"

"We won't." He stops. "(y/n) do you trust me?"

"Yes, I trust you."

"Good. Come on." He pulls me along and sure enough, we slip easily through the fence undetected. When we get out, a tall gangly man is waiting for us with a cab.

"Look Markus, this is all the money I have. It should get you a room for tonight. I'm sorry I couldn't do more."

"It's fine." Markus smiles. "I appreciate what you are doing for me and my girlfriend, (y/n)"

Girlfriend?! Inside I was going crazy while the very word danced throughout my head. We got into the car and found a small inn near the arcade.

"Thanks again." Markus waved to his friend as he drove off. We got our room and settled in.

I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair had become unkempt and wild. Flowing locks fell, framing my face. I had no makeup and suddenly I begin to feel self conscious.

"You are beautiful." I felt his lips on my neck as he came up behind and embraced me.

"You're just saying that."

Quickly, he turned me around to face him. His hand brushed along the side of my face and then slowly moved down to my lower stomach. Slowly grabbing the bottom of my shirt, he lifted it up and over my head. Bras being banned in the asylum, I now stood with my bare breasts exposed. My lips trembled as I looked up to him.

"I-I I've never done this, Markus."

"Neither have I."

His actions said differently though as swiftly removed my pants, his eyes still on mine. Vulnerable and completely naked, I stood before the man I loved terrified and excited at the same time. I watched with absolute lust filled eyes as he removed each article of clothing. I had always noticed his bulge when we were alone, but as it sprung out of his pants, I really took notice. The overwhelming size alone caused me to take a couple steps back wondering how he was going to fit that monster inside of me. Would it hurt?

"Lay down." He nodded to the bed.

I took a deep breath as I lay back and he climbed over the top of me.

"Are you scared?"

"Yes."

"Don't be. I'm nervous too. I promise to be gentle and go slow though."

After a minute of more kisses along my jawline, I began to feel a sharp pain. I winced as he entered me, stretching me with every inch. I moaned hoping the pain would go away. Then he begin to move. I could feel him rubbing against my inner walls, tearing into them as he began to thrust. As quickly as the pain had come, it was replaced with pleasure.

"Oh Markus!" I cried out while gripping his back.

"(y/n)!" He grunted over and over as his hips sped up and he thrust harder and deeper. "You feel so amazing (y/n)" Flipped onto my side, he entered me from behind and grabbed hold of my breasts, still thrusting wildly. "Finish for me (y/n). I wanna feel you." His words sent me over the edge and I could feel my body lose all control. It was then I felt him stiffen and felt my womb being coated. The two of us collapsed next to each other and fall asleep in each other's arms.

"Hey! Wake up!" A bright light breaks into the room when the door is opened. Before I know it, I'm pulled from my lover's arms and we find ourselves once more in the custody of the police. How they found us, I don't know.

"Markus." I yell for him, but it's no use. He is put into a separate car.

"I guess your mother was right about you." The officer in the front turns and winks. Creeped out, I cross my arms tightly in front of myself.

"So you thought you could run away. And with your lover! If it is up to me, you and Markus Dorn will never see each other again." The doctor smirks cruelly and you begin to panic inside. The thought of never seen Markus again is too much to handle. "You will be put in your own room. No chores. No leisure. Shower and meals only. Alone."

The next three weeks dragged by slowly as loneliness crept in. They even introduced me to electric shock. The pills mostly made me drowsy for many hours.

Then, one day, they came.

"The doctor will see you now. Come on." I didn't want to see him though. I knew what he would say. I didn't want to hear it.

"(y/n) it is nice to meet you. I'm the new doctor. I've been looking into your files and wanted to touch up on your story." To my great surprise, it is not the same bald, fleshy doctor I remember, but a woman. I extend my hand to her and then sit down. I tell her everything. This time, she believes me. "That man has a reputation for going after young women. Also, your mother was never able to provide solid evidence that you stole those pearls or slept around. I also am to inform you that you will be seeing a physician for a checkup after you leave my office. Don't be offended. All the women are getting one." She smiled. "(y/n) I think you have a good chance at release soon."

Part 3 continued on next post.

@wingsy-keeper-of-songs #christophwaltz #markusdorn #kopfstand

[bdfanfic]

From Elsweyr With Love #4

An hour later and Ra’Jirra had stripped to her underwear, panting on the bed like an overheated dog. Sarosh was on the balcony and dressed similarly (except for the bra) and settled in for the night. She might have been a little jealous, but he was right. Another Redguard sleeping on a hotel balcony was nothing to attract attention. A khajiit in her underwear would be.

When he’d pulled his shirt off, she was pleasantly surprised. The man had been training. Her estimation of him rose a notch. But now she was just miserable. “How do people live in this heat?” she asked him quietly. They were still speaking in Ta’agra but fortunately he was fluent.

“Any way they can, Raj.”

Her hair was bothering her. She pulled it up and flipped the pillow over again. At least the place was clean. She did give it some points for that.

“You want to go back to the Pendant later?” he asked her.

“No. Like you said, it might attract attention. I’ll manage.”

“In the morning let’s go back to my place. I need to write a message for Romanov and the drop off is near it. We can get cleaned up there.”

“Do you have Air Ice?”

“No. But it will be cooler in the morning. You’ll see.”

Ra’Jirra picked up the flyer beside her and began fanning herself again. She couldn’t sleep. She kept running the scenario over and over in her mind. The noise, then the man falling dead, a hole through him. Square through his chest. Everything screamed of another gun, but the only other person who was there was the amateur in the street. But surely the three were working together. And from that distance… From her own practice with her weapon, she knew it was inaccurate at range. In a pinch it might work - with luck - but things just didn’t add up right. And how would a Redguard, and amateur spy no less, have managed to get his hands on a top secret weapon designed by Elsweyr?

She thought about the position of her assailant when he’d been killed. He was turned a bit away from her, which is why the blood hadn’t hit her. And leaning down to ready another swing of the iron. But the projectile had to have entered almost exactly parallel to his body to pierce it so straight.  And then she saw it in her mind’s eye. An imaginary line, from the man’s chest to his back, then extending not only outward but upward. He had been bending over to attack her when the noise had happened. The projectile must have come from up high. How high? Not across the street. That would have been too far.

The roof. The shot had to have come from the roof beside the alley. It had been, what? 2 floors? 3? But it lined up. Someone had shot him with a weapon similar to her gun from the rooftop.  Another player? On her side?

“Dammit,” she said, turning the pillow over for the fifth time. “I can’t think straight in this heat!”

Sarosh was snoring lightly. The sounds outside were dim and far away. A couple talking on another balcony, maybe across the street.

“Fuck it. He’s a professional, and I’ve got my fur to cover me. Mostly. Modesty be damned.”

She took off the rest and closed her eyes, continuing to fan herself. It helped. She drifted off, imagining someone on the roof of the building with a gun. Still a long shot in more ways than one. The mysterious gunman might well have intended to shoot her instead, but she somehow didn’t think so. Romanov? From all she’d read, the girl was just a mid level cyber security expert. Not the type for field work. She dreamed of a khajiit on the roof, looking down at her. The khajiit was naked.

She woke at the first light of day. It was cooler. She put her underwear back on and checked on Sarosh. Still sleeping. She roused him and they got dressed. The streets were empty at this hour, and she hadn’t gotten enough sleep, but it was a good time to get moving. There was no sign of any patrolling guardsmen on the street, so they hailed a cab and made good time to Sarosh’s apartment.

The building was just like the man. Nondescript. Average. Not rich, not poor. He must have at least lived like one of the mythical middle class he had mentioned. Maybe there weren’t many in the city, but there were a few. No rising boxes here, they climbed the four flights of stairs and walked down towards his apartment.

He pulled out his key, then stopped.

“Wait,” he said, and looked around the floor. He found what he was looking for a few feet away. A thread, too small to notice unless you were really looking for it.  It served the same purpose as her scrap of paper had. Someone had been here since he had left. He signaled to Ra’Jirra. She nodded and pulled her weapon from her pocket and held it in safety position, pointing up and standing beyond the door frame while he opened the door.

“Relan? Phelix?” he called as he opened the door, but Ra’Jirra noticed the tripwire in the gap at low level. She rushed at Sarosh and tackled him at the waist, sending them both to the floor on the other side of the door frame before the explosion hit. The wall of flame that instantly burst from the apartment singed the leather of her boot. Then, just as suddenly as had started, it was over.

She couldn’t hear a thing at first, but the ringing in her ears slowly faded. Sarosh was saying something, but he indicated his ears and shook his head. He was deaf too. They looked inside the apartment, but it was utter devastation within. She heard voices outside, her hearing returning. Sarosh recovered a metal box and they left quickly.

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

“Good. Very good indeed!” La’Dasha said quietly to the grate. “You’re sure she wasn’t hurt?”

“No. The weapon performed perfectly.”

“Where are they now?”

“I lost them last night, but I picked them up again at his apartment this morning. There was an explosion.”

“WHAT?”

“Not my work. Someone booby-trapped the door.”

“Are they okay?”

“Yes. No one was home and the khajiit stopped him from entering. I must assume she sensed something.”

“Dammit, she can’t die yet!”

“Continue with the plan then?”

“Of course.”

The voice was gone. They bombed the man’s apartment? Someone must be really pissed off. And that was good. That was the point. But she mustn’t be killed this soon. She rose and hailed a taxi.

“The Pendant,” she said to the driver, and closed her eyes, remembering the previous night’s entertainment. It had been glorious. Against all odds, the man had made for an excellent lover, and he fought well for a human. But she would have to find another hotel. The mess had been too much to clean up. She imagined the look on the maid’s face when she came in this morning. What a sight that would be!

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

Sarosh had written two letters that morning, one encrypted that he placed in the drop, the other she didn’t ask about, but he explained anyway. “A contingency plan. The family won’t be returning.”

She took his hand as they sat on a bench near a park. “I’m sorry Sarosh. I didn’t expect anyone to recognize you.”

“No need. It’s a good thing. I had no idea my cover had been blown. Now I know and everyone is still alive. It is the best outcome. But I will have to leave Rihad.”

“Any ideas who did it? It’s doesn’t sound like the work of a Hammerfell agent. They would just have swept in and taken us both.”

“I’ve a good idea. I think it was retribution for that guy last night. Bombing is a favorite of the local secret police, and those guys looked like the type. And their clothes were classic ‘plain clothes’. Cheap but spotless. But it wouldn’t have been officially sanctioned. My guess is it was that other guy. We killed his buddy, and he knew where I lived.”

“But we didn’t kill him!” Ra’Jirra protested.

“He thinks we did. I need to find out who he is. He won’t stop when he finds out I’m still alive. He’ll be stationed at the main headquarters downtown. I’m going to stake out the place and see if I can spot him.”

Ra’Jirra shook her head. “No Sarosh. He knows you. He doesn’t know me. I’ll go.”

“He knows you too,” Sarosh protested.

“Ha. Even you’ve said we khajiit all look the same. A change of clothes and I’m a different cat.”

“The hair is pretty distinctive.”

“I’ll wear it up. You leave that to me. I got a good look at him too. I’ll recognize him. No, you lay low for a while. I’ve got to go back to my room and change.”

Sarosh nodded. “I’ll meet you tonight at dusk at your room.”

She returned to the hotel and found the scrap of paper still lodged in its place, opened the door, and spruced herself up a bit, but she did not bathe. For the role she planned, she should be unkempt. Then she pulled on some shabby clothes, tied up her hair, making sure it was mussed a bit, then caught a taxi to the police headquarters.

“No!” she said to the desk officer. “This one will remain here until they bring him in.”

“Okay ma’am, but I’m telling you there’s no report of a khajiit kid arrested last night. But if you must wait, you can have a seat over there. If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

She nodded acceptance and made herself as comfortable as she could. It was getting hot again. She spent the next four hours scanning the personnel that came and went until at last a big man came in wearing civilian clothes. He waved to the desk officer who unlocked a side door and let him in. She watched the man until he was out of sight. Hadn’t even changed his clothes, and he looked pissed off.

“That’s him,” she said to the desk officer when he had gone. “That’s the man who took my boy.”

“Who? Detective Royan? Couldn’t have been. He was on a stakeout last night. Besides, he doesn’t do grunt-work like arresting shoplifters.”

“That’s the man,” she insisted.

“Listen, lady, if he took your boy, I don’t think you’ll see him again honestly,” the desk officer said quietly. “I’m sorry, but he’s on a special task force, and your boy was involved in more than shoplifting.”

“Oh!” Ra’Jirra squealed, as if suddenly in anguish. “It’s those hooligans he hung around with, wasn’t it? Always talking about revolution this and insurrection that. This one knew he was in with a bad crowd, but she never thought… This one told him they would cause him trouble.”

“Look, I could go bring the Detective over to talk to you, but I wouldn’t advise it. He’s not very friendly. If your boy comes home with a black eye and some broken bones, count yourself lucky. If he doesn’t come home at all… well, that happens sometimes.”

“Oh!” Ra’Jirra began to cry. “No… No, I’ll do as you say. I’ll wait at home.”

With that she walked out of the station, caught a ride to the hotel, and went back to her room. The maids had been in, but she found nothing out of place. She took a long, leisurely bath, then put on her most elegant gown. A black affair, blackless and cut so low the top practically met the bottom. She smiled at herself in the mirror. Perfect, if she did say so herself. Then she went down to the casino.

She relished the looks she garnered when she walked in the door. She was in no way overdressed for the place, but when properly outfitted and trained, a khajiit woman was a rival in beauty to even the most elegant Altmer. Smiles went up on men’s faces, frowns on the women. Mostly. She crossed to the long bar.

“What does a cat have to do to get a bite to eat in this place?” she asked the bartender in a pretty good imitation of a Hammerfell accent.

“Why, just ask!” he responded with a chuckle. “What would you like?”

“What I’d really like,” she said, intentionally using the forbidden first person pronoun, “is a good sized plate of ground meat, lightly seared, water and a good stiff drink.”

“You’ve got it lady! What kind of drink?”

“You pick. You’re a bartender. Make me something special. But don’t forget the water. I might not like it.”

She scanned the crowd behind her. Various table games were set up. She watched carefully to see who was looking at her surreptitiously, but she caught no one, beyond those who obviously were watching her for other reasons.

The bartender returned with a colorful drink and a glass of water. She smiled at the bartender and dipped a finger in the drink, touching it to her tongue. It was sweet and strong.

“Mmm! What’s in it? Is that pineapple juice?”

“It is. My own concoction.”

She sipped and indeed it was tasty. “Thank you. What’s your name?”

“Sam,” he said simply leaning on the bar towards her.

Probably a lie, but she wasn’t one to mind. “Listen, Sam. I need your honest truth. Which of these tables are fixed? Who’s the sharks and who’s the fish?”

“All our gaming is as straight as an arrow, ma’am. There’s no…” he began before she interrupted.

“Sam,” she started, giving him the Sultry Eye. “There is no such thing. Look, you can check my cleavage out as much as you want. I don’t wear a dress like this because it’s comfortable. But be a dear and give me the straight scoop, okay? By the end of the night I’ll find out anyway, and you’ll lose a nice tip.”

“Table on the left is rigged,” he said quietly. “Dealer is a card shark. Can deal himself any card he wants. The roulette table is legit, as is the card table behind it. But it’s high stakes. That’s where the local bigwigs go for an honest game though.”

She smiled and bent over the bar a bit. A little tip for his honesty. “The drink really IS good. But I’m getting hungry. Would you mind checking on the food?”

“What?” he said, distracted. “Oh! Sure. Be right back.”

He brought the meat back, with a little salad.

“Thanks Sam. Um… will they mind if I… eat this properly?”

“Maybe you can step behind the bar instead? There’s a little room back here. No offense but, we’ve had khajiits in here before. I know what you mean.”

She nodded and went to a little room where she wolfed the food down as she really wanted to, then came back to the bar, dabbing her mouth with a napkin delicately.

“Thanks,” Sam said sincerely.

“No, thank you. It’s annoying not to be able to eat the way we want to.”

“By the way, your Hammerfell is excellent. Where are you from?”

“Oh, from here and there. I travel a lot. But sorry Sam, I’ve got to take your favorite cleavage away now. Nice to meet you!”

“You too! Say, want to go out later? I’m off at midnight.”

“Sorry. Can’t stay that long. Raincheck?”

“Sure. I’m here every night.”

She took her drink and water and slunk her way around the tables in her best sultry walk, tail sashaying behind her with abandon.

“Say,” the bartender called. “What’s your name?”

She smiled. Bingo. “Ra’Jirra’, she called back. “My name is Ra’Jirra.” she repeated, emphasizing the forbidden first person possessive..

Heads turned. Some at the unusual sound of a khajiit voice speaking in a Hammerfell accent, others at the name itself.

“The problem with being undercover,” she thought as she advanced on the high roller table, “is that you never know who sees through it. Better to have your cards exposed. Then you don’t have to wonder.”

[marvelousbuchanan-blog]

Afterglow

Pairing: Peter x Reader

Prompt: You and Peter have been dating for awhile and the time has come for more summer adventures with him. You spend the first night of summer together doing anything that suits your fancy.

Warnings: Slight hints of sexual stuff (ish) other than that just fluff. Fluffy fluff fluff.

Word Count: 1.8K

Song: Afterglow by All Time Low

The clock seems to move slower and slower as the minute hand gets closer to the 12. You glance over at Peter who smiles at you. You continue to tap your foot anxiously awaiting the final bell. Your eyes fall back to the clock with 5 seconds left.

5…4…3…2…

The bell rings out and you and Peter are the first two out the door. You both run to your lockers pulling out all the books and running from them to avoid the crowd of teenagers behind you. As you run past the front office you put all the books in the drop and make your way down the front steps hand in hand. Once you are far enough away from the crowd he plants a kiss on top your head and places his arm around your shoulder. You smile up at him.

“Well my queen, we are officially free.” he says. “How should we use that freedom?”

“I am officially free. You may be free from school, but you are not free from being bug boy.” you say. Knowing it irritates him when you call him that

“You’re so lucky I love you, and I think the cops can handle things for one night. We have to keep up our titles!” he says.

Peter had been calling you two king and queen of the streets since you two went on your first date two years ago. Really you thought it was kind of cute how dorky he was about it. You were really happy that he said the police could take care of one night. You wanted to spend time with him. Time with him not in classes or in the cafeteria.

“Alright, alright. What do you wanna do?” You ask him laughing. Peter smiles down at you and takes your hand.

“I’ve got some stuff in store. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I’ll pick you up at 5 yeah?” he says as you get to your house.

“How could I worry about a surprise from you? I mean it’s not like last time the surprise was shot from your wrist and stuck my arm to the wall.” you say with a smirk. Peter rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

“I’ve never been more in love with someone in my life.” he says. He pulls you in for a kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck and his arms fall around your waist.

“Okay it’s cute for the first five seconds but if you don’t stop I’m letting the dog out on you.” your father calls from the porch. You break away from Peter as you both laugh.

“I’ll see you at 5.” Peter says backing away and waving to your father before walking down the block. You turn and walk up the way to your house and meet your father on the porch as you watch Peter cross to his street in the distance.

“He’s a good kid.” your father says. You nod.

“ Eh he’s alright.” you say. Your father rolls his eyes and you both go inside.

By the time 5 o'clock rolls around you have taken a nap, gotten a shower and are dressed in leggings and a lightweight green top Peter had gotten you for Christmas. You also put your matching necklace back on. Peter had given you that as a gift as well. It was a longer chain with a small silver coin at the bottom about the size of a dime. The coin had a spider engraved on it just as his did. You loved how happy being Spider-Man made him. He loved being able to help people and make things better, yet it always had you worried about him.

“Party is here!” Peter yells as he bursts through your door. You scream and put your hand on your heart.

“Ever heard of knocking? I could’ve been naked or something!” You say.

“Wait can we try it that way? I’ll go back out and when I come in you can be naked.” He says turning around. You slap him upside the head and he laughs tuning around again to kiss your forehead.

“It’s not like I haven’t seen you that way before or-” he starts.

“Out bug boy!” You laugh as you push him out of your room closing your door behind the two of you. You go down the stairs yelling to your parents that yours leaving and make your way to Peters car. He only uses the car to go places other than school. Getting in the car you notice that Peter has his eyes on you.

“What?” you ask leaning your head against the west end looking at him. He shakes his head.

“Have I ever told you…that you are incredibly hot?” he asks with a smirk. You roll your eyes and smile.

“Drive bug boy.” you laugh. He kiss e your hand and starts the car off down the road.

As he drive you watch his features. He has one hand on your leg and the other on the wheel. You watch as he pays close attention to every traffic signal and sign. Once he comes to a stop and parks the car you see that yours at one of those huge trampoline places.

“Oh my god.” You laugh looking at him. Peter smiles and nods rapidly. Both of you leave the car in fits of childish laughter and rush inside. You make your way onto the trampolines and step onto them.

“Tag.” You say pushing your hand against Peters chest. His eyes widen as he falls onto his back and bounces a couple times before he can catch his balance and get up. By that time you are already leaps a head of him. He bounds after you and eventuall catches you causing both of you to take a tumble.

The games continue for about two hours before both of you are sore and out of breath.

“Whats next my king?” You ask intertwining your fingers through his. He smiles and nods to the south end of the block.

“How about some painting?” he asks. You smile and he tugs you down the block to a small ceramics shop at the end.

You walk in to see little statues lining the shelves closest to the floor and plates and cups toward the middle picture frames and candle holders at the top. You absolutely loved painting ceramics and Peter knew it. The woman behind the counter asked what she could do for you.

“We’ll take two picture frames.” Peter says. The woman nods and goes into the back bring you two identical frames. Peter takes them and hands one to you as you two sit down.

You begin to paint the frames first band in blue, painting the second red, and the third black. The colors of his suit. You look up at him from across the table and smile. He is intently painting what seems to be swirls of some sort around the corners of the frame. He looks up at you and sits back in his chair.

“What?” he asks. You shake your head.

“Thank you for taking me to do this stuff Peter. I love it.” You say.

“Y/N, you don’t have to thank me. You know I love spending time with you.” Peter says taking your hand. You smile and squeeze his hand slightly.

You both finish your frames and hand them back to woman at the counter leaving your numbers and the name of your items on the paper. As you leave the shop you notice the sun beginning to set. The sky is a mix of dark blues and pinks and oranges. Your eyes fixate on the sky and to the glow of the sun off the tall buildings.

“Hey, we aren’t done yet. We’ve got one more stop.” Peter says putting his arm around your back and leading you to the car.

After about a 15 minute drive you pull up to the park where you first met Peter. There was a benefit party for animal shelters in the area and his aunt was working a booth. He was helping her, much to his dismay…until he realized you were working the benefit too. Once he saw you he would make any excuse to make his way to your booth. He hasn’t noticed you at school before, and honestly, you hadn’t noticed him before that day either.

You both get out of the car and Peter walks around the trunk clicking the button and having it open. He pulls out a blanket and shuts the trunk again. Taking your hand You both walk up the hill to the clearing to sit. You both stare at the setting sun and watch the sky turn from a dark orange to a dark blue. The outline of the buildings a bright orange.

“I love the afterglow of a sunset like this.“ he says. You nod and sigh. You begin to feel peaceful and truly okay. As soon as you feel that? The seven police cars chasing the large van, zoom down the street below the hill. Peters eyes widen and he pulls out his phone. After he looks at it for a moment he sighs and shakes his head before looking to you. You know what hes going to ask before he says anything.

“Go babe, they need you.” you say.

He smiles and kisses you before sprinting off down the hill. He had dropped the keys on the blanket for you to take the car home.

“I love you!” You shout after him.

“I LOVE YOU MORE!” he yells back.

Moments later you see the one and only Spider-Man swing up away from the hill. You sit and watch until the swinging silhouette dissappears. Taking your heart with it.

————————————–

Thanks so much to @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x for helping decide which character to have in this! Much love girly!!

[trippingontheescalator]

Don’t Leave Me This Way

Title: Don’t Leave Me This Way Characters: Tony Stark/Steve Rogers Rating: M Warnings: 1970s, Intercrural Sex, Cheating, Silver Age Summary: It's 1977 and the dulcet tones of Thelma Houston have taken over the radio waves, unemployment is at an all-time high, the Son of Sam is stalking the streets of New York, and now the entire city has been plunged into darkness after a lightning strike has taken out most of the city's electricity. As the veneer of society is stripped away, Captain America meets Iron Man for a secret rendezvous.

Don't--

The music suddenly cut off, followed by a muffled cry from Steve's neighbor as the entire building was plunged into darkness. Steve wiped at the sweat that had gathered above his upper lip. He threw his book in the direction of his coffee table and padded over to a window. He pushed on the glass, letting in a burst of hot, windless air as he opened it. Almost immediately the sounds of sirens and laughter and screams rushed to fill the silence. Steve stared out into the darkness. In the distance he could see the city lights flicker, as though gasping for breath, before dying completely. One by one, the five boroughs were swallowed up by the night.

Steve could hear the distant rumble of thunder in the distance, but not the screeching of machines or blasts of lasers that usually accompanied a battle. Steve reached for his suit anyway. Even if the blackout wasn't caused by any supervillain, there was going to be panic.

Steve slipped out the back of his apartment building, careful not to be seen. It wasn't hard, given the unnatural darkness. It didn't even look like his city anymore. Just a strange, shadow puppet version of it cast on the wall of the world. He thought about getting his bike, before deciding it'd probably be best to patrol on foot and turned up an alley, hitting Court Street, his boots crunching against the trash and debris left abandoned in the gutters from the garbage strike. People were pouring out of their buildings. They chatted and gathered around garbage fires, drawn like moths to the only light they could find. "It's Captain America!" One kid yelled from where he stood with his friend in front of Par Three, the local watering hole. He was big guy, easily over 6 feet and built like a football player. "You're great!"

Steve gave him a small salute before his eyes fell on a group of men looting a jewelry store. Fifteen minutes without light and the people had already descended into chaos. The store's windows were broken, the half-ripped face of the Son of Sam stared back at him from his wanted poster, his other half lying somewhere among the broken shards of glass. "Gentlemen," Steve lazily called out, hefting his shield onto his arm so that they could see its familiar star.

"Oh, shit!" One of them yelled and like ants they scattered, leaping through what was left of the window. Steve sighed, his eyes hard and calculating as he stared down the line of shops. There had to be hundreds of people swarming the streets and now that one store had been broken into, the rest soon fell like dominoes. He could hear the glass shattering, saw the rushing of stampeding bodies rage against the iron gates. He watched a housewife push a shopping cart full of baby diapers and one brazen couple carry off a whole washing machine. There was no way he could stop all of this. To be honest the thought of trying just made him feel tired. It would be like fighting the sea.

Steve looked into the jewelry store, at the empty counters and broken necklaces that lined the carpet. He'd passed by here the other day. There was a ring he saw that he thought Sharon might like. An engagement ring. It didn't matter. He was getting ahead of himself anyway. He hadn't even asked the question yet.

Shouting tore him from his reverie, followed by Iron Man's familiar mechanical voice. Steve quickly took off toward the sound. He found Iron Man hovering above a violent crowd, the gold of his armor glimmering against a raging fire that poured from the windows of the building behind him. Pieces of concrete, sticks, anything the people could get their hands on rained up at him and Iron Man took it all. "You tell Stark I've got a wife and kids! What am I suppose to do!? What am I suppose to do!?" One man screamed, his voice choking with the sound of it.

"Setting fires isn't going to get your job back. You need to return to your homes. Power will be restored soon."

Whatever else was said was drowned out of by the wail of sirens as a firetruck pushed its way through the throng of people. Iron Man took his chance to escape and quickly dropped down an alley a few blocks away. Steve followed, running at full speed only to find the other man half-slumped against a dirty wall, the tell-tale gleam of his armor catching what little light was left. "I need about five more drinks in me to deal with this," he said.

"What's the situation?"

"The whole city is in an uproar. Arson. Looting. People are angry and this is just the straw that broke the camel's back. With all the city police and fire department layoffs there isn't enough help to go around. I've just come from setting up generators at the hospitals and Thor is evacuating the people who are stuck in the subways."

"What happened exactly? When will the power be back on?"

Iron Man cocked his head to look at him and Steve could tell he was smiling from underneath that faceplate. "I don't know, I'm just a bodyguard. You'll have to ask Mr. Stark."

Steve smiled back, even if it felt tight and insincere. If Tony wanted to pretend to be someone else for a little while, he could do that. "All muscle and no brain, right Shellhead?"

"Got it in one, but I can tell you Mr. Stark will be glad when this recession is over and Stark Industries can finally stop treading water." Iron Man pushed himself off the wall. "There isn't much that we can do at the moment. I think I'll head back to the mansion before I cause a riot in this tin can."

"Come back to my apartment. No sense in you sitting alone in the dark."

"The mansion's got a full liquor cabinet, what've you got?"

"Cherry coke and milk."

"Well, I'm convinced."

Iron Man held out his hand for Steve to take hold, but an itch had started to crawl up his legs. Something wild was worming its way through his chest, sending his heart hammering as he stared at Iron Man across the dirty alley. "No... no, I want to run."

Iron Man lifted himself into the air. "Beat you there."

And like a rubber band finally snapping, Steve took off. He felt like a child running through the night. The heat and the darkness had taken hold of him, and the city no longer felt real, not a place where businessmen got up to go to work in the morning and buses took kids to school. New York had transformed into a ruin, a ruin that knew the world was about to end and raged against it.

As soon as the door shut behind him he felt a hand grasp his, surprised at the feeling of bare skin, at the rough callouses that caught his instead of the cool press of metal. "You better have worn something under your armor this time," Steve said. He was a child and Tony was a child, and this was all just pretend.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" And then Tony pulled him up the stairs and into his apartment, laughing about locks and lasers.

With nowhere else to run, that wild feeling coiled in his gut. He sprung forward, his hands feeling their way up Tony's neck to grasp his face. He pushed, his lips grazing his chin before finding his lips. "We should light some candles or some-" Steve snaked his arm around Tony's head, pushing his tongue into his mouth to swallow whatever words were trying to escape. He didn't want candles. He didn't want the light. Just Tony and the darkness.

Tony stumbled backward into the single bedroom, one hand grasping behind him, searching until his knees hit the back of Steve's bed. Steve slid between his open thighs as Tony crawled up onto it, tugging at his uniform until he could pull out his cock. He leaned down, soaking in the feeling of Tony's naked body pressing against his and to grind against laughed. The genius hadn't even bothered to put on underwear before suiting up and Steve wanted to tease him but there were fingers pulling at the strands of his blond hair and that wild feeling lunged. He flipped Tony over, dragging him over the covers by the tops of his thighs, pushing his legs where he wanted them while Tony laughed and moaned and taunted.

Steve licked his palm and grasped his cock, groaning at the sudden pressure as he squeezed. He ran his hand up Tony's ass, his thumb dipping into the cleft as he stroked himself to full harness. Tony squeezed his thighs together and Steve sank between his legs, his cock brushing against the back of his balls. There were other nights, slower nights, where Steve would swallow him whole, take his time to finger him open, and push and push until there was nothing but slick heat and soft breaths against his ear. Tony gasped into the pillow as Steve thrust down, driving hard and fast between slippery thighs. He ground Tony into the bed, his fingers digging into the flesh of his ass until a ring of bruises bloomed. Tony rubbed himself against the covers, unable to lift up high enough to get a hand on himself.

Steve chased his orgasm, let it crash into him until he came across the back of Tony's legs. That wild thing still clawed at him, pushed him, and he grabbed the other man, smearing his seed across his thighs as he tossed him onto his back. Tony was already snaking a hand down, but Steve snatched it up, grabbing the other with the same hand to hold them above his head. He could feel Tony strain against, testing his strength just because his could, and Steve straddled his legs to keep him from squirming. He took hold of Tony's cock, twisting and squeezing until Tony was shouting his name and finally the wildness that had taken hold loosened inside him and he slumped against Tony's chest, burying his face into his neck to breathe in that familiar, comforting scent.

Steve woke in the morning with Tony tangled in his arms, his suit still half-on and clinging unpleasantly to his skin. The day was already hot without even a breeze to provide some relief. Outside his window, he could see his neighbors walking in a daze as they swept up the trash and broken glass. New York City was real again and now they'd have to deal with the consequences.

He looked down at Tony and no longer did he seem young. Wrinkles were beginning to form in the corners of his eyes, and that little furrow between his brows had been there for years. There were bruises and tiny scrapes from where Steve's mail had rubbed against his bare skin. A mass of scars winding down his chest had replaced the mechanical breastplate. Already thirty-seven years old; God, the tantrum Tony will throw when he finally turns forty. Distantly, Steve thought about calling Sharon.

And then, suddenly, the lights returned and the music filtered in from next door.

--leave me this way Baby! My heart is full of love and desire for you So come on now and do what you got to do You started this fire down in my soul Now can't you see it's burning out of control So come on now, satisfy the need in me