#when i click record it instantly turns off saying ''the recording has been saved'' but it's not

[onewingedangels]

gamers, what are you using to record your pc gaming footage for giffing?

[hopelessdelusional]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷bad for business

‧₊˚♡pairing: bakugou x singer! reader

‧₊˚♡tw: slight mention of injury in the beginning, but that’s abt it

‧₊˚♡word count: 4K

‧₊˚♡a/n: Literally got a dream after i read this prompt, went insane, and then basically wrote a whole book…so it’s safe to say im obsessed

‧₊˚♡masterlist

inbox is open so hmu!!

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ─ ✩ ─⋅ ⋅ ──╮

Bakugou Katsuki is a hero.

He is a Pro Hero, number 2 to be in fact (damn Deku). He has made a living fighting battles and saving lives, jumping off roofs and flying in the sky. He is a real life super hero, putting his life in danger. Every morning he wakes up has to prepare himself for the things he may see that day. The blood he might shed, and the people he may not be able to save. He has learned to be fearless, never finding himself nervous when jumping into the fight.

And yet, he’s never felt more terrified right now.

He met you three years ago, after quite literally crashing right into the very studio you record your music. He was battling a woman who had the ability to make and control giant vines, and apparently are explosive-proof. Todoroki almost hit him with a blast of his shitty ice, making him turn to his so called “partner” and cuss him out. However, that gave the villain the chance to grab him, and send him flying.

Bakugou soon found himself miles away from the fight, as he had to use his quirk in order not to fall to his death. But as many know, his quirk is sporadic.

That is how he crash landed into your studio.

It hurt like hell sure, but when he opened his eyes and saw you standing over him with nothing but concern in your eyes, he instantly forgot the many injuries he gained. You were breathtaking, and not like anyone he had ever interacted with. You immediately made the terrified people in the studio help him up and you found the nearest first aid kit and fixed him up as best as you could before an ambulance came.

He was dazed, but you were so kind and made small talk. Bakugou had always been one to hate any type of small talk, but he loved every word that left your mouth. You were newly moved to Japan, some sort of opportunity came to you that you couldn’t turn down (Bakugou was severely concussed so a lot of what you said was a blur).

Bakugou does remember Mina and Kaminari mentioning you, playing your music whenever he came to either of their houses. You had such a unique voice, a bit raspy that caught the attention of millions of people. Surprisingly, also caught the attention to Bakugou, as he would play it during the rare nights when he’d be cooking alone in his kitchen. Your story telling was incredible, your lyrics were anything but bland. Making music about the bad and good exes you’ve had, your friends and family, your past, and even wrote songs about random characters your beautiful mind came up with. You always made sure to use all sorts of instruments, and the notes that you compacted into your songs never ceased to amaze Bakugou’s standards.

Now he was here, sitting on a table asking you all sorts of questions about you. Maybe it was the concussion, or maybe it was just your personality but Bakugou began to get addicted to you, never wanting you to stop talking.

“Here.”

You turned away from him, your hand leaving his knee instantly making him already miss the warmth of you as you shuffled through your bag.

He watched you with curiosity (and took the chance to shamelessly check out your ass) before you turned around with a newfound grin on your face. You were holding a pen, and he cocked an eyebrow at you, not understanding the excitement of this pen in your perfect hand. You walked back over to him, your perfume becoming addicting to him, and you gently grabbed his hand. You were making intense eye contact with him, and Bakugou suddenly felt…nervous? You smiled at the blush that rose on the hero’s face, before you clicked the pen and began to write something on his wrist.

Bakugou watched, feeling somewhat like a child, and once you finished and allowed him to look. He was pleasantly surprised to see your number on his arm.

His head instantly shot up, almost not believing this was happening.

“If I text this and it’s a scam, I’m gonna hunt you down.”

His gruff voice didn’t match the face he was making at you, and you threw your head back and laughed.

Once you caught your breath, you smiled at him, making him blush even more (he didn’t even know that was possible!).

“As fun as that would be, I promise that is in fact my home number. I would never trick my favorite pro hero like that.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw two paramedics walking through the door, ready to help him out of there. However, he chose to ignore them and smirk at you instead.

“Favorite eh?”

You giggled, still holding his hand.

“Don’t get too cocky mister, or else I’ll write a mean song about you.”

His grin widened, using his other hand to lead your hand to his lips. He gently kissed it, hating how chapped his lips were, but the blush that quickly appeared on your cute cheeks made it worth it.

“I’d rather the song have another meaning.”

The two of you held eye contact, and he soaked up every second of it not ever wanting to forget what color you eyes were.

You smiled at him before you turned to the paramedics that began to replace your presence. They helped him up, and walked him over to the bed that was rolled in by another paramedic. Once he was comfortable (as comfortable as someone with many broken ribs and a concussion could be) he looked back up at you. Bakugou was annoyed to see one of the paramedics talking nervously to you, asking for an autograph. However, the jealously slowly turned into admiration as he watched you beam at the man as you excitedly signed the crinkled piece of paper he had in his pocket.

“My daughter just adores your music, she started learning guitar because of you actually! It’s truly incredible watching her play, just makes me so proud of her.”

Your lip was pouted, as you stood listening to his words. You looked so genuine, so happy that he was telling you this. Bakugou could tell this means the world to you, watching you enthusiastically hugged him. The two of you quickly made your goodbyes, and you immediately turned to look his way. Bakugou would have been embarrassed that he was caught looking at you if you hadn’t beamed at him like that. You jogged over to him, making him chuckle how eager you were to be back in his presence. Bakugou instantly grabbed your empty hand again, not a single ounce of shame for how “down bad” he was acting.

“Talk to you later?”

Your voice couldn’t have been any louder than a whisper, making sure he knew these were words only for him to hear. Bakugou grinned, giving your hand a squeeze.

“Of course.”

Instead of one of your flashing smiles, your whole face softened and a small smile appeared on your face.

“In the meantime then, I’ll definitely be writing a song.”

That’s when Bakugou realized there was no coming back from you. He was officially obsessed, never wanting anything more than your hand in his.

Unfortunately for him, the two of you were rudely interrupted by the dumbass that got him here in the first place (not that Bakugou is complaining). Todoroki loudly coughed, making you jump and him scowl.

“I see you’re in good-“ his heterochromia eyes looked down at Bakugou and your interlocked hands, and then looked back up at Bakugou with a smirk.

“Good hands?”

Yeah, Bakugou definitely got teased for the rest of the day, and soon the rest of the week by all the people half-and-half told. But honestly? Bakugou couldn’t give two shits when had you texting him all day.

Besides, they were just jealous.

Kaminari and Mina especially lost their shit, begging for him to tell them all about you, even asking for your number. Obviously, Bakugou kindly told them to stop asking (he told them to fuck off and mind their fucking business) and soon enough the two of you began dating.

It was so easy being with someone like you. The two of you worked so well together, and you already understood the pressure of paparazzi constantly swarming you like hawks. Crazily enough, the reveal of you guys dating didn’t release until after your one year. Of course there were plenty of news articles and random fans on the internet who speculated it, but you interacted with enough people for your fans to also say you were dating them as well. Besides, the idea of you, an international singer/songwriter dating the number two hero in the world was not something that people could believe easily. But it was the truth, and people everywhere went crazy when you posted a picture of the two of you.

It was the picture of Bakugou picking you up by the waist in his kitchen. You were wearing his shirt and some random sweats because you had just gotten home from a concert the night before. Ochako was the one able to capture this beautiful moment of the couple. You had been teasing him for being able to cook but not bake, and he had enough of your jokes and simply picked you right off your feet. In the picture the both of you were smiling widely, especially Bakugou. When you posted the picture, fans analyzed the picture like crazy.

Bakugou knew he wasn’t the most well liked Pro-Hero, but the amount of people who tried to make a video showing the picture and claiming it was “obvious” that he was abusing you was a little annoying. You always reassured the blond when you caught him watching those videos, turning off his phone and climbing in his lap. His hands happily making his way on your waist as you ran your fingers through his hair while the other hand held his face gently. His eyes would close and you would whisper sweet nothings in his ear, praising him for anything and everything, sometimes even singing the songs you wrote for him.

Bakugou still remembers when the two of you were almost a year into the relationship (ten months and 6 days to be exact) and in the mist of him casually scrolling on TikTok a video of you performing at your concert popped up. He was certainly surprised to see videos already posted, since the concert had quite literally just ended. Obviously he watched the video, adoring how you talked to your fans.

“Now children, calm down so I can talk. I am not gonna talk over your borderline screaming, there’s no way in hell I’m gonna be able to sing after this if I talk like that.”

Bakugou snickered. He always loved when you were sassy and continued to watch.

“So whilst on tour, I’ve had a song stuck in my head,” the crowd went wild, probably thinking you were going to play one of your songs called “stuck in my head.” Your face lit up in realization, and you laughed at the mistake you made.

“Oh my poor babies, I’m so sorry but I am not playing that song.”

You gave your crowd an apologetic smile as they booed you. Bakugou’s eyebrows furrowed, upset as to why you were being booed, but continued to watch nonetheless.

“Oh my gosh get over yourself,” you rolled your eye waiting for the crowd to settle down before starting up again.

“I had like, this chorus just repeating itself over and over again. It was so annoying y’all! I felt like I was going crazy! And what made it even more annoying is that I couldn’t go to my safe place and sit down and write it cus-“

You gestured to your surroundings.

“-I’m on tour.”

The crowd went wild for longer than Bakugou liked, but you let them get it out, shaking your head like you were disappointed but the smile gave you away.

“Instead I had to settle with my oh so very empty tour bus bed, and write the song there. It was literally like, what? 3AM? And I was sitting on that bed with my guitar, notebook, and my laptop. I’m so glad I wasn’t sharing or like in a hotel because I was up until 5…”

You bent over to laugh, and the audience as well. Meanwhile, your now very grumpy boyfriend was about to close the app and text you not to do shit like that. You put on full fledge concerts for crying out loud! You should not be staying up that late just to write a goddamn song.

“And that was last night.”

The concert booed as Bakugou’s patience started to thin. What the hell were you thinking? You even texted him goodnight at like 2! Rest is very important and you need to-

“But I’m glad that I did, because I think this is my new favorite song. And I just can’t wait anymore, so is it okay if I play it for you guys?”

The crowd literally went feral. The person recording was screaming along with every goddamn person at that place. Bakugou was now fully sitting up in his bed, eager to listen to this song. He was a little hurt, he will admit. You always send him a video of the many songs that you write sporadically on this tour, and you’ve written a lot. So why didn’t you do the same thing here? What was so different about this song that he couldn’t be the first to hear it like usual?

“That sounds like a yes,” you reached for one of the many necklaces you were wearing and pulled out a very thin necklace with a familiar pendant. Bakugou immediately recognized it, as it was the one he got for you on your six month anniversary. It was one of the petals of a rose that you saved from your first date. He had it dried and put into a charm of a necklace when he noticed you getting upset that you couldn’t keep the flowers he got you. When he gave it to you, tears were falling down your face as he kissed you. That’s when he swore to himself that if he met any of your exes he wouldn’t leave without giving them a brand new scar.

You pulled it out and kissed it gently, before whispering into it.

“This is for you baby.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened, the crowd losing their minds and you started playing guitar. The two of you would make the smallest hints that you were in a relationship, but never as bold as this. Not that he was complaining.

Secretly he had been wanting to let the public know that you were dating, he wanted everyone to know you were his and he was yours. He was honestly sick of seeing people “ship” him with extras and he especially hated when the same happened to you.

He’s good for my heart but he’s bad for business

Tears me apart when he grants my wishes

All of my friends think I’ve gone crazy

But they don’t know me like my baby~

Bakugou remembers that moment like it was yesterday. His face instantly blossomed a bright blush, and his lips formed a soft smile. The crowd finally settled down after the beginning and he was able to listen to the song, closing his eyes pretending like he was there in the audience. He put the phone up to his ear and laid back down, soaking up every word and every note.

He’s good

It’s bad

The best I’ve ever had

And he’s so nice

It’s sad

He ruined all my plans

And he just makes me so crazy

I know everyone sees

He’ll be the death of me

That’s how he got here, standing in a special area in your sold out venue wearing your newest merch.

And Bakugou Katsuki was terrified.


This was the first time he had come to see your concert, because last time you toured it was when your relationship was a secret. Now, he sat nervously in his chair, his colleagues on either side of him. You had given all of them tickets, making sure they had the best seats in the house but also allowed them to not be disturbed by fans.

Bakugou was bouncing his leg, picking at his fingernails as he watched the crowd. It seemed that nobody knew they were there, everyone waiting in anticipation of your show. Your music was so diverse, everyone knew that it would contain all sorts of emotions and energies. You were the type of performer who liked to be as close to the audience as possible, you loved adding commentary to your songs during the pauses, making faces, and dancing around. You loved to have fun, and let loose. When you got the green light to plan the tour, you were practically bouncing off the walls of your now shared home. You spent three months planning it, which was a new record for you, before announcing. However, there was just one thing that Bakugou didn’t like about the tour.

He knew absolutely nothing about it. In fact, you made sure of it. Hiding your notebook, changing your laptop’s password, making sure your manager didn’t tell him shit about it. That’s why he was terrified. His partner, his very famous singer/songwriter of a soulmate was about to do the very first night of the tour in Japan and Bakugou didn’t know a thing.

That’s why Bakugou Katsuki was terrified.

Soon enough, the lights began to dim, and people started to stand up. A hush fell over the crowd as the venue blacked out, and the wrist bands on everyone’s wrists lit up.

“Holy shit it’s happening.” Kaminari whispered to Bakugou, grin spreading across his face.

Ochako, Kaminari, and Mina happily took the evening off to see you, while the rest of your invites weren’t able to. Kirishima made Bakugou promise at least one photo of the two of them after the show.

A soft hum came out of the speakers, and suddenly a spotlight appeared to reveal you standing at the very far back of the stage. The crowd went insane, and you walked down the stage.

When it came to your outfits, you always had to keep it comfortable. You loved to jump around dancing, sometimes fall to your knees dramatically. You especially loved to squat. Jumping around in that position and when you stood up you always made sure to flaunt the ass that you worked very hard on in the gym.

You came out strutting down the stage in very baggy and flowy black pants and a very cropped black long sleeve sweater that allowed you to show off the lace bra that went down to your belly button. But that wasn’t where it stopped, nor was it the best part of your outfit. To Bakugou’s surprise you were wearing boots with an obnoxiously thick heel, that were very obviously Dynamite themed.

Bakugou smirked at the sight, taking in the rest of the little details of your outfit. You wore a giant ring on your index finger that was also Dynamite inspired, as a fan gave it to you, and Bakugou could see his initials sewn into the bottom of your sweater.

You stopped at the end of the runway, pulling the microphone away from your face in a dramatic motion. You slowly looked around, taking in your crowd. A smile spread across your face, and when your gaze looked straight forward to look for Bakugou, he made sure to make little sparks from his hands to let you know he was right here. You pointed at him with the finger that had the Dynamite ring on it, and Bakugou honestly felt like it was just you and him in the stadium. You mouthed an ‘I love you’ at him, and Bakugou was now ignoring the new roar from the audience.

“You guys should get married already.” Mina whispered in Bakugou’s ear, and instead of blowing her face up, he just smiled, still looking in your direction.

“I plan on it.”

The first song you sang was one of your oldest ones, which also happened to be a much slower and sadder song. Instead of listening to the grim lyrics (not because they were bad, just because Bakugou hated to remember how bad some of your relationships were and didn’t want to get angry) the hero closed his eyes and listened to your voice. He wanted to take in his environment and all the notes you sang. The song started to drift off midway, which confused Bakugou. His eyes suddenly snapped open when he heard your newest song, which was much more upbeat. He watched you jump in the air and sing the song with much more passion than the original version. The crowd recovered quickly from the switch up and was singing along happily.

You sang a couple more of your newer and upbeat songs, making sure to add new notes to them and even belt a couple of notes to get the crowd excited. You were having so much fun, and Bakugou had never seen you look more alive. This is where you belonged, and he wanted to be right here every time watching.

There was a pause for you to sit down at the edge of the runway. You sat criss-cross, and much closer to the audience for Bakugou’s liking. He always got nervous when you reached out for a fan’s hand, scared that they would do something that could hurt you.

Thankfully, that hadn’t ever happened, and you sat very cutely waiting for the audience to quiet down so you could speak.

“Wow. We’re halfway through already? Well, I think we all know what that means…”

You cocked your head to the side, and a soft piano started to play a familiar rhythm.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and everything in between, get out your tissues. It is now time to remember why you are no longer dating your ex, and for you to be reminded that your trauma isn’t just a thing that makes you funny.”

The crowd screamed, but almost immediately stopped when you began to sing in a much softer and lower register than before. As depressing as these songs may be, Bakugou firmly believes that these types of songs bring out the best in your voice. It allows you to challenge your breath control, and truly sing with so much passion and emotion.

A couple of songs pass, and Bakugou finds you when the stage gets lit up again. You’re in the middle of the runway, standing with your head down waiting for the band to begin. As soon as the piano starts, the crowd screams and yells. This is one of your all-time most popular songs, it was the one that caught a lot of people’s attention and boosted your popularity. Funnily enough, you actually hated this song because you wrote it in high school, so Bakugou was surprised to see you preform it.

“Is this Sick of Losing Soulmates?” Ochako yelled, because of the screaming of your audience.

Bakugou turned to her and confirmed her suspicions, making Mina and Kaminari start screaming along with the audience (as they were doing the entire time).

Bakugou watched as you began to sing, and noticed how you really got into it. You added a lot more dramatic pauses before certain lines, and even speaking some of the lyrics, making it feel more like anger than sadness.

Yeah, I’m sick of losing soulmates

Won’t be alone again

I can finally see you’re as fucked up as me

So how do we begin?

At one point, you laid down on your back, reaching for the sky as you sang your heart out, and Bakugou noticed you choking up a bit at certain lyrics.

We will grow old as friends

I've promised that before, so what's one more in our grey-haired circle, waiting for the end?

Time and hearts will wear us thin

So which path will you take, 'cause we both know a break does exactly what it says on the tin

The song soon ends, and your last pose has you on your knees, head looking down at the floor. The stadium goes pitch dark, including the wrist bands, before they light up again along with your stage. Bakugou sees you wipe a tear off your cheek, and you sit there once more taking in your fans that take the chance to start chanting your name. You put your lips together, closing your eyes and putting your hands on your heart. Your eyebrows are furrowed and Bakugou can tell you’re still crying. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to go to you and hold you, wiping away your tears and replacing them with tender kisses.

You open your eyes, putting the mic back to your mouth and the audience quiets down in order to let you speak.

“Oh boy, I am so overwhelmed by emotions. I mean that was the song that started it all right?”

The crowd was still practically silent, as you’ve trained them well. You get off your knees and get into a more comfortable sitting position (criss-cross of course) and continue.

“I used to absolutely loath that song, because I wrote that when I was at my lowest. I was so sick and tired of love, having to try again over and over again. Every relationship that ended seem to break a piece of me off, and I was honestly starting to give up.”

You let out a broken chuckle, putting your free hand over your eyes momentarily before starting again.

“But then I met Katsuki, in which he literally crashed into my life.”

The crowd stayed silent, but Bakugou could tell they wanted to start screaming. You were not looking at him, and to his surprise Bakugou felt a tear run down his cheek.

“Three years of paradise. I’ve always had a fear of losing you, but it especially hits when I sing songs like that.”

There was a pause, and suddenly Bakugou felt like he was back in that studio where he met you. Staring at you and falling in love all over again.

“I love you baby, forever and always.”

Bakugou smiled, and all that fear that was with him before left. You were his and he was yours, and that’s all that he needed.

“I love you too,” he whispered, and you knew.

Bakugou Katsuki was no longer terrified.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ─ ✩ ─⋅ ⋅ ──╯

none of the songs quoted are not mine!!! the first one is “Bad for Business” by Sabrina Carpenter, and the second one is “Sick of Losing Soulmates” by dodie

i hope you enjoyed bc boy oh boy i did

literally took me 4 hours to write but i couldn’t pull myself away from the keyboard

i rlly need to start writing other characters for x readers but oh well

[saturatedboy]

Hey can you do a fic of Lady Alcina x GN!reader where the reader has ADHD so little things just gets forgotten and jumping topics so fast it’s kinda hard for Alcina at first and she’ll get frustrated but still loves the reader just how they are? If so that would be fantastic! Have a great day!!

Alcina Dimitrescu x GN!Reader

My apologise for taking a while, a thunder and lightning storm happened near me and it blew up the fuse to my internet box. But I'm here with more writing so I hope you enjoy!

Requests: Open

Words: 2.5k

The vast castle that had loomed over the Village of Shadows had always been ancient and portentous. The unknown creatures however that hovered over the sky close to the pole towers were always a great sight to see from the village. However, those who live far away from the castle merely thought to them to be birds with a wide wing span that would fly around and bless the castle with their saint fortune- however if you knew the castle and it's true owners, you would find everything to be more depraved of it's fake nature.

Humming softly, you dragged the wooden comb through your strands, being careful to not pull on any knotted ends too hard. You stared at the mirror with soft eyes, it had been quite the evening for you after the day being filled with lessons on acting like a true noble. You could hear the young ladies down the extended corridors, arguing over who would get the first drop of the sweetness a simple maid had once carried. Although not a vampire yourself, you strived yourself to be lucky amongst those who were caught in any of the young and head mistresses claws. Ah, the mistress. The simple thought of her had brought a rose tint to your cheeks, you smiling unconsciously as you let your mind wander off into far lands that were filled with no violence, only peace amongst the dammed. Only a sudden knock had transported you back into the real world. Coughing, you placed the comb down on the vanity and turned on your buffet, facing the door with hands folded on your lap. "You may enter," You spoke out loud, awaiting the turning of the knob.

The sound of slight clicking of the knob being turned brought your full attention to whoever was to enter. The door became ajar, then pushed to an opening with the guilty entering. A wide smile had stretched it's way onto your face as you stood to greet the one who knocked. Bowing your head slightly, you raised it to be met with the eyes of the lady of the castle, Alcina Dimitrescu. "My lady."

"My darling," She spoke back, closing the door behind her as she looked down upon your small form, however still slightly taller than her three daughters. Seeing your smile brought one onto her face, her eyes gleaming softly at your relaxed state. Looking around your neatly tided room, she let her eyes graze back over to yours and tilted her head to the side ever so slightly. "Why are you still awake? You should be asleep by now."

Awkwardly, you had bit your bottom lip and looked away in shame. Any of the pink fairy dust that was once coating your cheeks had turned deeper than the pinks in a sunset. "Well, my lady, you see I-" You had quickly cut yourself off. You weren't going to tell her that you was awake because you could hear the cries of the maid. And no you weren't going to tell her that she had been running on your mind either-

"Well?" She softly asked as she crossed her arms under her chest, placing herself to sit on the end of your bed as she watched you fiddle with your fingers with a long-lost look within your eyes.

"I'm just feeling energised." You saved yourself as you silently thanked your mind for quick thinking. Well, you weren't exactly lying but at the same time you had been because the cries of the maid had woken you from your slumber. Not wanting to get into any sort of trouble with the Lady. Lady Dimitrescu nodded in reply, not fully understand to why you would be energised after a long day of training to be a noble but none the less, she was glad you weren't hurt at all or hiding any sort of pain.

"Hm, I suppose that may makes sense. Though I don't remember you having any sort of sugary treats to be feeling so much energy to stay awake..." Dimitrescu had trailed of at the end, instantly becoming entranced when you had grabbed the comb once again and brushed through your hair. Tutting slightly, she stood and walked over to your sitting form, plucking the brush from your hand and using it to comb your hair for you. "Your combing wrongly, follow the flow of your hair- don't try to change it's path."

Feeling her gentleness as she combed through your hair had made you start to fidget in your seat. Although you loved the feeling of her hands caressing your hair, there was something about it that made you want to adventure further. You didn't want to stay here, no you couldn't. This wasn't right sitting here anymore. The feeling was so sudden- and you knew why. Arguing in your head, you dragged your mind away from the reality of the world into a blank space where you could try sort out these mixed emotions. However as you were away from the reality, your body had reacted on its own recordings. Your leg began to bounce with your hands intertwining with one another then letting go only for them to become fists. Without any thought of it, Alcina hadn't notice your sudden change in mood, she was too focused on trying to get a certain knot out of your hair.

Yourself on the other hand, was stuck fighting for movement or staying in place. It wasn't till the noise of wood being placed back onto your vanity and the hand that had blocked your view from the mirror that brought you away from your argument. Without a second thought, you stood abruptly and turned to face Alcina with a wide smile. "We should go for a stroll! The night will be young and I'm sure the young mistresses will be busy with their feeding tonight. How about it my Lady?" You held your hand out, your white tunic and grey pants had provided enough heat for you to want a walk in the breeze of the lost screams within the castle.

Alcina had looked at your hand, so small and doll-like. Holding your hand normally brought great warmth to her soul. The feeling of a human being alive and wanting to be close to her had always brought a soft, comforting feeling. And she had only felt that with you. So, wanting to feel the same feeling again she cupped your small hand within her own and used her other hand to straighten out her hat. "Lead the way my love."

Within no second to spare, you speed-walked out of your room and practically dragged the Lady behind you. Why were you so excited for a walk? She had no clue to what was exactly going on in your mind, she never understood what was on your mind but that was because she couldn't read you like an open book. She had always had people praise her like some Goddess which brought much pride to her, but seeing you hold her hand and walk with her like she was a regular person- maybe like what the children would do in the village when they found something interesting and wanted a parent to see it quickly- that what you had reminded her off. "My darling, aren't you going a little fast?" She asked, although having no problem keeping you with your speed, she found it unusual for you to be walking at this speed.

"Nope! Now come on, we have the castle to explore more of!" You giggled and and bopped your head side to side like you were listening to silent music. "Oh! When we explore the castle we should play hide and seek! Do you think the other girls would love to join, I'm sure they would! Ooo maybe you could teaching me how to sort out flowers to make a beautiful boutique like you had done once when Lady Beneviento was over!" Your rambled on about activities you both could do as you let go of Alcina's hand and walked off by yourself. Your stranded look had brought Alncia to be slightly worried about your change of state. Being quick, Alcina followed behind you keeping close tabs on trying to make out what you was saying since you were getting further ahead of her.

"Darling....Darling!" She called out as you kept walking onwards, twisting through the hallways and moving yourself out of the way for any maids that were walking around or cleaning the hallways. Alcina shook her head and sped walked to catch up to you so she could take swiftly your arm within her grasp to make you stop walking away from her. The sudden yank that she gave you made you lock your lips together and looked up at her over your shoulder. "Darling your speaking too quickly and mumbling half of it. Speak with a clear tone and articulation. I taught you this today before you went up to bed."

You looked at her with glossy eyes that held your innocence. Her figure over you had somewhat calmed your mind to rest, or maybe it was her touch- you couldn't decide on which. You focused on her hand around your arm, her fingers going back to her palm as her larger hands captured your arm within her grip- no movement could make you escape. You opened your mouth to speak up but your words were caught in your throat. Again you tried but only slight noises of struggle came out. Taking a deep breath, Alcina sighed out in annoyance and rolled her eyes. "Would you mind telling me what's going on. One minute your relaxed, the next your up and walking away like you have to catch a carriage. You're also changing your mind on what to do-Sweetie you said you wanted to go for a walk."

Trailing your eyes from her hand up her arm and peering at her face, you saw a clear look of her being stumped with your actions. Pulling your arm out of her grip, you cradled it close to your chest. "I'm sorry." Was all you could mutter before taking a deep breath in and out, steading your breathing after the fast walk you had travelled with. Leaning against the closest wall in the hallway, you swept strands out from your eyes and gazed down at the wooden floor with deep crimson carpets. "I've always been like this- It's something that is hard to control." You gathered the small courage to face her again, looking at her with a guilty stare.

Alcina patted her dress down as she heard your voice speak. She had no way in understanding why you act like this because this was the first time it happened so suddenly and well- she hadn't been a human for a very long time now. You remembered times before you came to the castle that down in the village you would take off through the woods to lose the energy you gained for no reason and speak to any animal life you could find. It was much more relaxing to talk to someone who couldn't say anything back- you couldn't interrupt anyone or get the harsh reply of 'Stay on a subject' because your mind jumped from one thing to another. That was actually how you met the Lady of the castle in the first place, and it was the first place you confessed your dying love to her. But now- everything happened without yourself even realising it was happening, you felt like the one to blame for putting the Lady in this position of following you about and practically making her own mind run in circles.

A delicate hand lifted your chin that had dropped to rest on your chest, a finger running along your bottom lip. The hand belonged to Alcina whom had knelt to the floor in front of you. "(Y/n)." She spoke your name with tenderness and a tone that would forever make your heart melt with affection. "You have nothing to be sorry for. If this is how you are, then I love you for who you are." She felt your lip quiver under her thumb, her other hand pulling you into her chest where soft sobs had came from your mouth. She held you close, humming a tune to calm you down. Your salty tears had wet her long white dress, but she didn't care. She cared for the fact that you had been dealing with something that had made you think you were in the wrong for feeling it. "If you wish to ramble about anything on your mind, go ahead. Tell me stories, tell me knowledge, tell me how you feel. I will listen to everything to have to say- even if it does get mixed up that's okay." With a vision blurred, you tilted your head up to look at her as yo used your hands to clear the spots of wetness of your face. "I may not be able to fully understand, but I chose to love you and that means anything that you come with is something I adore my dearest."

A chuckle escaped your lips as you felt her hand glide itself down under your arm and slightly tickle you. "W-wait that tickles-"

"Oh I know~" She whispered into your ear and she playfully picked you up in bridal style within her arms and began her own journey somewhere. Still watching her face and feeling her arms wrapped tightly around your form, you couldn't help but wonder what she was doing.

"Where are we going? Are we going outside or are we going back to my room?" You asked as you continued to clear your eyesight from the specks of fuzzy marks. Adjusting you in her arms slightly so she could instead carry you with your head resting on her shoulder as she held you under your behind and legs wrapped around her upper torso, she replied.

"We are going to find my three daughters and tonight as a family we shall play games. A game night. I figure we both could need one of those especially your hard work of being a noble." She kissed your cheek as she carried on walking, you on the other hand had tried to say something again but it came out with stutters.

"But what if I talk about something stupid or make a fool of myself. Maybe I might not be able to sleep and you need your rest m'lady,"

"Oh darling, I wouldn't sleep without knowing my precious dearest is safe and sound under my gaze. If you can't fall asleep still we shall sit by the fire in the main room and I'll read whatever you wish for." Her words were sincere. She was being truthful. She didn't need to know about your condition, she just understood that she will be there for you in your tightest moments and fit what is right for you. And anyway, she also loved your voice- it was secretly one of her favourite features about you. Why wouldn't she want to listen to you, anything to hear her dearest talk would make her heart swoon with love.

Only a love that she was willing to give to you.

[hualianff]

Vampire/Human AU

(Slight NSFW, angst)

Thinking about vampire HC who owns a vampire-friendly bar with humans who apply as donors to supply fresh blood for vampires willing to pay the expensive prices. When a human with beautiful amber eyes, soft facial features, and blood that smells absolutely delectable, walks in, every vampire whips their heads towards the door. The human approaches one of the staff, YY, to inquire about becoming a donor. HC watches as the enticing morsel follows YY into a room to finalize his application.

Right after the human leaves thirty minutes later–YY probably having said it would take a few days to find him a match–HC pulls YY aside, demanding to have a look over the papers the new donor filled out. After a quick scan, HC shoves the papers back to YY with a click of his tongue,

“No need to find him a match. He’s mine.”

A human whose blood smells heavenly, who has never been bitten or even nipped by a vampire. HC wants to corrupt him. Ruin him.

The next night, HC has the human, XL, meet him in his personal feeding room. There’s a luxurious velvet couch to the side, a pristine glass table with fancy wine and glasses, and a king-sized bed with crimson silk laid upon the mattress.

HC, like most vampires, typically feeds while stimulating their donors. This can be done with something as simple as kissing or full-on intercourse. Not only does this relax the human’s nerves so they won’t tense up before being bitten, but the toxins injected into their system after being bitten feels incredibly euphoric, serving as a kind of aphrodisiac. Many humans donate their blood in this way for the sole reason of attaining this heightened sense of pleasure.

But as soon as XL enters the room in front of HC, his mind freezes as he sees the bed.

“I’m a virgin,” he blurts out, wide eyes panicked as he looks at the vampire. HC raises his eyebrow, unperturbed.

“We can work with that.”

XL gulps.

“I’ve also never kissed anyone.”

HC runs a tongue along his sharp fangs.

“Do you want to change that?” The vampire asks, walking up behind the human, pressing his chest against XL’s back. HC hears XL’s heart rate pick up at the proposition. It’s an unspoken yes, though XL also imperceptibly nods his head. He does not see HC’s lips spread into a vicious grin. However, XL does feel lips brush against the shell of his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

“Use your words, precious. Do you want to be kissed? Want to be touched, experience pleasure beyond comprehension?” HC murmurs, skimming his lips across XL’s nape. “I can fuck you too. Push into your little body as I sink my fangs into your neck. I’d place them right here-“ HC taps XL’s jugular, the human jerking to the side with a gasp. “-oh? So sensitive. All the better. I can make you feel so good.”

XL’s breath quickens, ever so slightly leaning back into HC’s tall frame. HC leans forward to catch a glimpse of those doe eyes regarding him with caution. Oh, how he wants to eat this human alive. HC turns XL around by his shoulders. He lowers his head to bump foreheads with XL, forcing the human to look into his red-tinged eyes.

“Is that a yes?”

XL blinks those doe eyes once, then twice.

“Yes.”

HC brings his hand up to brush a hair away from the human’s head.

“Wonderful.”

***

XL is at the point in his life when he lost everything. He chose to pursue a career outside of his parents’ embroidery business despite being expected to take over the shop after college. Abandoning college altogether, XL went off on his own to chase his dream to become a singer.

A few years later, where XL was provinces away from home, XL’s parents’ business had gone under, devastating them as they could no longer pay for their medical bills. Upon hearing the news, XL rushed back home to take care of them. It seemed they had kept their declining health conditions under wraps. They were too prideful to admit their weakening physical states; they also did not want to guilt XL into giving up on his ambitions to take care of them.

XL’s parents lasted one year before passing away, his father first due to prostate cancer, his mother one month later after succumbing to exhaustion and grief. XL lost their home along with the shop merely a week later, unable to pay off the debt. His parents had used up their savings for their medical expenses and XL had been scraping by as a musician for years. Additionally, there was no one he could confide in. He had lost contact with his friends as he moved from city to city, busking on streets, attempting to catch the attention of music labels.

XL was utterly alone. There were days when not even music could bring an ounce of comfort. However, music was the thing that kept him sane between the various side jobs he managed to pick up to keep him off the streets.

As if the fates decided XL had had enough bad luck for a lifetime, a CEO of a fairly well-known label offered him a business card after a busking session. It was JW of Capital Records who gave XL hope of achieving his dream. XL spent most of his late 20s under the label, training and practicing and producing. He had the chance to record a couple of singles and one mini-album–which he didn’t get to participate much in the production side–but other than that, XL didn’t make it far. He was tremendously overworked and yet, still discarded to the side.

Wondering why he wasn’t provided the opportunities other artists received to further their careers, XL scheduled a one-on-one meeting with the CEO to ask what he was lacking. JW had insisted he could give XL more opportunities if XL could offer something more than just his serene vocals and pretty face.

The unspoken suggestion that XL offer up his body pierced his heart with yet another stake. Overwhelming disappointment and betrayal crashed into XL, but perhaps he should have known better that the whole situation was too good to be true. XL vehemently rejected this idea, angering JW who eventually tore XL down to the point of a medical emergency that allowed him to leave the agency without repercussions.

At age thirty-two, XL was left with no family, mental and physical trauma, and a dying will. Ironically enough, the song lyrics he’d written after experiencing so much loss were the closest thing to making music he’d gotten. But in the end, XL still felt like a failure.

Now in Xi’an, XL was left with limited options to earn money for rent. He already worked two part-time jobs in addition to writing music—though even time set aside for this has dwindled.

One night, as XL was walking home after closing up the convenience store, he saw the neon lights of the sign “Ghost City.” He’s heard many things about this club and is no stranger to the existence of nonhuman creatures roaming amongst human society. After hours of research, XL decided to apply to become a blood donor. It’s not like he had a better option that paid more anyway.

XL’s hope to somehow redeem his past actions has all but fizzled out. He doesn’t expect a vampire like HC to care about his comfort or consent when feeding, though HC still prioritizes these things for some reason.

XL has never looked at his body and thought about the best ways to pleasure himself. HC shows him how. HC caresses and kisses XL like he’s worth being handled with care; HC also invades XL’s body as a threat to break it, broadcasting a vampire’s strength, speed, and endurance in the bedroom.

XL can go as far as to say he even looks forward to his time with HC. In between a busy work life and dealing with people who would rather look the other way than give him the time of day, XL’s mind and body steadily weaken.

It starts with memory loss, where XL can’t clearly remember the conversations he’d had the day before. One of the reasons this develops is because he goes through many days without having anyone to tell about his day. It’s like the life XL lives is so insignificant, nothing about it is worth remembering.

Then, it’s the lack of eating. Most of XL’s money goes towards rent, essentials, and groceries. But he’s not a great cook. And he’s already drained by the time he gets home after working both jobs and visiting Ghost City. XL’s stress doesn’t help, adding to the fatigue that gradually shuts his body down.

While HC might not be able to taste a difference in XL’s blood, he does notice how frail the human moves around. How delayed XL responds, more so than he should be–even as a human. XL has scheduled more visits: three times a week this time. However, his words become less. He stops telling the little stories that brought a small smile to his face. XL doesn’t even mention the songs he’s been working on lately.

HC forces himself to ask about them after an especially rough coupling.

“How’s the songwriting going, darling?” HC asks quietly. He props his elbow upon his pillow, resting his cheek on his hand as he intently observes the human struggling to catch his breath, eyelids fluttering.

“I haven’t written anything new,” XL breathily answers. HC purses his lips. He ducks down to affectionately tongue at the skin his fangs pierced.

“No? In how long?” HC asks. XL sighs heavily.

“Maybe three weeks.”

HC doesn’t know what to say to that. He’s not one to console anybody. No one had afforded him that luxury, and naturally, he did not grant anyone else his concern. The silence that follows is unbearable.

***

The next time XL visits, he’s the one to initiate their first kiss. HC growls happily against his human’s lips, pinning him against the closed door of his private room. XL moans obscenely as HC languidly licks into his mouth. His arms desperately wrap around HC’s neck to bring him closer.

“Someone’s eager,” HC says with a chuckle as he pulls back. XL instantly attaches his lips to the vampire’s jaw, peppering light kisses along the pale skin. HC can’t help but think he’s taught his little human well. XL hums while trailing his lips back to HC’s, capturing them in a kiss that’s the sweetest one yet.

HC should’ve noticed how unstable XL’s legs seemed, how dreadful the bags under his eyes looked before indulging in their bedroom activities. He should’ve kept track all along of how thin XL is, how much more skin and bone he had become. HC is certainly not one to intrude on someone else’s life and scrutinize all their choices. But he should’ve said something sooner.

Maybe then, XL’s heart wouldn’t have stuttered so violently, or completely stopped beating for five counts.

HC watches in horror as XL’s eyes roll into the back of his head. His human’s body goes limp in his arms, collapsing into HC’s chest. When XL’s heart beat starts up again, it’s very weak. There’s a noticeable abnormality in its rhythm.

HC quickly gathers XL in his arms and speeds to the bed. He sits back against the pillow, placing XL to recline against his front. HC hooks his arms around XL’s middle from behind, anxiously listening to XL’s irregular heartbeat that seems like it takes all of his human’s energy to pump. Luckily, XL awakens a few minutes later. He registers a cold embrace and warm puffs of breath lingering near his ear.

“Did I pass out?” XL wheezes out, unconsciously melting into the body behind him.

“Yes,” HC says tightly. “Your heartbeat is uneven. Something is wrong.”

XL can’t tell if he’s imagining it but that sounded like worry in the vampire’s tone.

“Oh.”

HC inhales sharply.

“You just fainted, Xie Lian. Hell, your heart just stopped for a few seconds, and all you have to say is ‘oh?’” HC grinds out.

So he is upset. XL swallows thickly, not wanting to escalate things and further upset the vampire.

“It’s okay,” XL says. “I’m okay-“

“No. You’re not,” HC interrupts.

XL takes a deep breath, wincing slightly as HC tightens his arms around his hips. He’s more sensitive than normal, XL realizes. Before XL can defend himself further, HC grasps XL’s chin and turns his head to face the vampire.

“You’re hiding something from me,” he states. He hears XL’s heart speed up. “There’s no use in lying. I can tell you’ve grown weaker since you first came.”

“Well, I have been donating my blood to a certain vampire for a few months now. I’m bound to be a bit weak in my legs,” XL replies as a matter of factly. He means to poke fun at the situation rather than acknowledge the severity of it. HC knows this because he’s done it numerous times himself. But when XL does it, it makes HC’s blood boil.

“Are you saying I am causing this- this deterioration in your health?” HC asks tensely. XL lets out a gasp, whirling around in HC’s arms, immediately backpedaling.

“No! No, not at all.”

HC’s eyes assess his human who trembles slightly in his arms. He cradles XL in between his legs, hands shifting XL further up his body so he can rest his head on HC’s chest. HC gently pets XL’s hair, an action that was uncharacteristic of him months ago, before XL had walked through the entrance of his bar.

XL gently smiles in an attempt to placate the vampire.

HC’s eyes flash a frightening scarlet.

“I don’t believe you.”

XL’s face crumples.

“It’s true! I’ve just been really busy is all. Work has been hectic and- and-“ gone is the innocence that HC once saw in XL’s doe eyes, instead replaced by stress and utter brokenness that alarms the vampire to no end. A voice in the back of HC’s head snarls that those emotions had always been behind XL’s eyes; they were simply better hidden, and HC had been too lust-driven to notice.

XL continues his rambling, frantically shaking his head. “-I took some extra shifts because I needed the money to pay for some water damage that flooded half my apartment. I’m fine—truly.“

If HC had a beating heart, it would have dropped down to his stomach at the sudden realization. His fingers dig into the paper-thin skin of XL’s hips, then trace up the bony knobs of his spine.

“You’re not eating right.”

“Wait- S-san Lang-“

The nickname HC had asked XL to call him is hurdled back into his face like a stone aimed to shatter. It sounds like a cry for help.

“And you’re not getting enough sleep,” HC concludes with a disapproving frown. His eyes now glow a deep crimson, matching the silken sheets that HC ensures are in perfect condition every time XL visits.

“Fuck, XIE LIAN, you know you need proper nutrition and rest to recover from each night you spend with me!” HC is nearly shouting now, voice wavering out of his control. Who knew another creature could make him feel so strongly?

“I-I am!”

“I SAID NOT TO LIE TO ME. I CAN TELL WHEN YOU’RE NOT BEING HONEST,” HC explodes, spatting those words with a poison that he often uses with uncooperative subordinates, but never directed at XL before.

Tears glisten in XL’s eyes as he’s cornered with no way out, no relief from the building pressure that suffocates him. Right now, after everything XL has been through, this seems to be his tipping point. He never expected HC to care this much. Or perhaps HC is just concerned his reliable supply of blood is flaking out on him, just when he’s had a feasible taste.

XL is sure HC has plenty of other donors to feed on. It’s not like XL is particularly special in that way. Frankly speaking, XL had time and time again asked the universe to give him one last sign that his life mattered in some capacity. But if he couldn’t see the value in his own life, who else could?

XL scrambles off from HC’s lap, allowing himself to speak with the deep-seated spite that has grown in his heart like an untamable weed.

“THERE’S NO NEED TO GET SO WORKED UP OVER MY HEALTH!! I’LL BE GONE SOON ANYWAY! THE DOCTOR GAVE ME THREE MORE MONTHS,” XL screams, having to catch his breath after exerting so much power into his voice. “So there. You have my answer. I’m not lying this time. Just one a couple more months and then- then you won’t have to deal with my shit anymore, okay?”

HC can’t move. He can’t speak either. The shock taking over his system renders his mind and body completely useless. He can only stare blankly at XL whose tears now cascade down his cheeks.  

No, this cannot be happening-

XL’s whimpers pull HC out of his head. The human hugs his own frail body, shivering from a coldness that does not exist in the room.

How did HC let it get so bad?

“I’m sick, San Lang. Very, very sick. Not just physically,” XL whispers defeatedly, letting out a small hiccup.

HC doesn’t hesitate to surge forward to throw his arms around XL, hugging him once more. It’s a habit now—to hold XL whenever he could. Now, HC wonders how many more times he would get this chance before it was inevitably the last.

“Xie Lian…”

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I-I just can’t eat. Sometimes from stress, other times I completely forget. And I want to rest, but I end up laying in bed awake for hours a-and my mind just won’t let me sleep-”

For the first time in over a decade, there is someone else to hear XL’s agonized wails.

“Please believe me, San Lang. Please."

[edendaphne]

“Discordant Sonata” Chapter 19

>>Click here to read on Ao3<<

>>Click here to read on Wattpad<<

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CHAPTER 19: ATTACCA

Music glossary:        Attacca - "To attack at once"; used as a direction in music at the end of a movement to begin the next without pause

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(Mood music: "The Conversation" - Pearl Django)

Being mere months away from graduating lycée meant that their group of friends didn’t have as many classes together, due to their diverse individual interests and talents. However, they always made sure to make time to hang out after school before their extracurricular activities began.

And thus, Adrien, Nino, and Alya made their way to the classroom where the art club gathered to meet up with Marinette. From there, Adrien would make his way to either fencing lessons or Chinese, depending on the day of the week. Marinette would join him on days when he had Chinese (as she’d become determined to master the language ever since her uncle visited from Shanghai a few years back), Alya would go to her journalism club, and Nino would travel to his part-time internship at the local recording studio.

“–and the backlogs just keep piling up!” Alya spoke as they walked, voice full of vigor and excitement. “I’ve had to recruit yet another mod to help me keep order in the forums! Especially since the Ladyblog has started going international and we’ve had to organize servers in different languages. You wouldn’t believe how crazy it’s gotten in there recently!”

“Dang, babe,” Nino interjected. “Sounds like things are super rough for you right now.”

“Not really, more busy than anything. Especially because I have that big research article due next week, there’s just not enough hours in the day to try to read everything that goes on in there. But I have my mods report to me daily, ‘cause I always like to stay on top of everything that goes on in the chats!”

“What’s gotten everyone so riled up in the Ladyblog lately?” Adrien chimed in. “I don’t recall it being nearly this busy last year.”

The trio entered the art club’s classroom and settled down at the table where Marinette sat, getting her various sketches organized. The art teacher was quite easy going, so they didn’t have to talk in hushed whispers and could come and go as they pleased.

“Well, to be honest, it’s because of Chat Noir,” Alya replied.

Adrien tried to contain his surprise. “R-really? What– uhhh, what do people have to say about him?”

He winced inwardly. He knew he shouldn’t ask. But curiosity got the better of him today. Maybe learning the news through the filter or Alya’s paraphrasing instead of reading the negative comments firsthand would lessen the sting of what people said about him.

Marinette whipped her head around at the mention of his alter ego. “Wait, what about Chat Noir?” she inquired.

“Girl,” Alya replied, her voice filled with renewed exuberance. “You would not believe how much we’ve had to censor and moderate all the inappropriate things people have been saying!”

Adrien flinched in his seat. “Wow… do people really hate him that much?” he asked, trying to conceal the dejection in his voice.

Alya busted out into loud guffaws. “Hate?! Dude, most people don’t hate him; they LOVE him! By ‘inappropriate’ comments, I mean the kinda stuff you wouldn’t want your grandma to catch you reading! There’s a whole giant section dedicated to his new fan club!” she said as she removed her glasses so she could wipe away the tears of laughter.

“WHAT?!” Adrien squawked in confusion, his face feeling hotter than the ovens back at the bakery. “A fan club??”

Marinette burst into uncontrollable snickering. “Has it really gotten that bad?!”

Nino joined in, “Bro! Adrien, I can’t believe you haven’t heard Alya rant about these rabid fans before! They call themselves the ‘Noir Nation’, and the kind of things they’ve been writing would make adult romance authors blush like schoolgirls!”

Alya nodded, thoroughly amused. “And that’s not including all the fanfiction people have been writing.”

“Wait– the WHAT?! There’s fanfiction?!!” Marinette gaped in shock, as if she’d been hit in the face with an enormous pie. “Alya, how come I never knew about this?!”

“Why? You wanna read em? Girl, you’ll get no judgment from me. If you wanna check ‘em out for yourself, just go check under the hashtag ‘Ladynoir’.”

Marinette stammered as her arms flailed in her bewilderment, accidentally knocking her phone off the table and onto the floor, her eyes bigger and rounder than Adrien had ever seen them. “They have a ship name?!” she screeched.

“Just mind the ratings though,” Alya advised. “Some of them can get pretty steamy. You wouldn’t want someone to catch you reading those in public,” she added with a wink.

Marinette continued to sputter incoherently. “NO, I am NOT gonna read it!! It would be different if they were fictional characters, but I could never read fanfiction about real people!”

Alya raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. “Mm-hmm… Sure.”

Marinette’s hands flew to her face, trying to hide how red her entire face had gotten, and released a long squeak that resembled a hamster on helium. As shocked as Adrien was about these rather unexpected news, seeing Marinette’s over-the-top reaction brought a wide grin to his face and he busted out laughing.

He bent over to retrieve Marinette’s phone, since she was too busy being mortified to notice it had fallen to the floor. As he was about to hand it back, the screen lit up and Adrien saw the lockscreen wallpaper: it was the same photo of Ladybug and Chat Noir that he himself had saved earlier that day. He smiled, not exactly sure what to make of it, but finding it adorable that she’d liked the photo enough to set it as her lockscreen.

He tapped her shoulder, waiting for her to respond. She emerged from behind her impromptu hand shield and turned her head, then her eyes widened once again as soon as she saw what Adrien was showing her. She jolted straight up, stiff as a board, and her eyes met his, cheeks turning tomato red. He winked at her, amused about this little secret between them, and handed back her phone without a word.

Marinette accepted it with a meek-sounding, “Thanks,” looking like she wanted to explain the photo, but not able to do so unless she wanted Alya and Nino to find out that she was potentially a… ahem– “Ladynoir” shipper.

Switching the conversation to something else (which Marinette seemed to be eternally grateful for), the group chatted until it became time for them to scatter to their next destinations.

With a wave, Adrien exited the classroom and headed towards fencing practice, one of the few activities he decided to stick with despite not being forced to participate. Fencing, along with Chinese lessons, were not only enjoyable, but were also quite useful. Sadly, he didn’t have access to a piano anymore, so he wasn’t able to pursue that hobby for the time being. Hopefully later down the line, when things had settled down and he’d found his own place to live, he’d be able to finance one.

Thinking about the future had become an exciting pastime instead of an anxiety-inducing one, and it was all thanks to his friends and those he cared about. He smiled as he reached the door to the locker rooms, continuing to daydream of what was to come.

(Mood music: "Recollection 3" - Shirō Sagisu (BLEACH OST, "The Diamond Dust Rebellion")

Adrien finished getting dressed for fencing, his head still blissfully floating in the clouds. He stored his belongings into his assigned locker, shutting it with a loud clang, which echoed through the empty room.

Huh...? Empty?

He swiveled his head around, surprised that there was no one beside him. He stood up and began walking down the large room, peeking down the other locker rows looking for his classmates; but there was nobody.

Where was everyone? There’s no way that every single one of them was running late. Had his lessons been cancelled and he’d somehow missed a text message or email? He began heading back towards his locker to check his phone for any schedule changes.

Before he reached his destination, however, heavy thudding footsteps broke the eerie silence. Adrien whipped his body around to greet whoever they belonged to.

The owner of those footsteps was one of the last people Adrien expected to meet here.

“Gaspard?!”

Adrien stood agape, face to face with his old bodyguard, whom he hadn’t seen in a couple of years; not since he’d resigned and moved out of the country. Nathalie had mentioned that in his resignation letter, Gaspard said that he’d become involved in an overseas business venture involving the market of rare action figures. Nevertheless, Adrien couldn’t help but suspect that his father’s ill temper and poor treatment of their employees was the true reason for his departure.

Adrien’s first reaction was surprise and joy, and he rushed forward to greet and embrace him. However, as he approached and got a better look at the man’s face, Adrien’s mood instantly morphed into confusion and apprehension. There was something odd about his eyes.

Something wasn’t right. Why was Gaspard here? And why now?

He came to a halt about a meter before reaching him. An oppressive weight seemed to press in all around him, and he had to suppress a shiver. “Wait. Gaspard, did–” he gulped, “–did my father send you?”

His old bodyguard did not reply, but took a heavy step towards him. Adrien stepped back.

“Please… I can’t go back. I live somewhere else now, and I’m very happy there. Whatever he told you about the situation, it’s a lie.”

His bodyguard continued to approach him, his stare vacant and unsettling.

Fighting the urge to panic, he pleaded, “You don’t have to do this. If he’s offered you compensation, I can match it; it’ll just take me a bit of time. But we can work something out, right?? For old time’s sake?”

He continued walking backwards until he bumped into something firm, but it wasn’t a wall; it was another person. Before he could turn around, they grabbed him by the shoulders, detaining him and preventing him from running away.

He was about to shout for help when something sharp jabbed him on the side of the neck, injecting a cold liquid. Adrien’s eyes grew wide in terror.

Shit.

Adrien swore as he jerked away, elbowing whoever was behind him and managing to break free. Rubbing at the spot where the syringe had stabbed him, he glanced back to take a look at his other assailant, only to see... another Gaspard?

Why are there two of him??

This was wrong. Gaspard didn’t have a twin; he knew that for a fact. He’d worked for the Agrestes ever since Adrien was a toddler and was too young to even pronounce his name correctly (hence the nickname “Gorille”, which stuck around for years afterwards). Additionally, there was something uncanny, otherworldly, even, about the way these two men looked and moved.

He shook himself out of his stupor. He didn’t have time to contemplate any possible explanations. He had to get out of there fast.

He sprinted towards the exit, but only managed to travel a few paces before he lost his footing and tripped. He fell to the ground hard, almost hitting his head on a nearby bench. As he struggled to get up, he realized that his fingers and toes had already gone numb.

Not good.

Time was running out. Adrenaline coursed through him and, with a grunt, he hefted himself to his feet and scrambled towards the exit, as fast as he could despite a heavy limp. Though his heart was hammering and his legs felt like they were filled with sand, he pushed himself, concentrating on reaching the door.

After taking a few steps, however, he realized that even if he did manage to exit the locker room, the area beyond was an open courtyard. Meaning he wasn’t going to be able to reach someplace safe before getting caught. He had no choice but to transform into Chat Noir, and hopefully Plagg’s powers and strength could help him escape and find somewhere to hide.

He’d scarcely uttered the first syllable in the transformation phrase when he was tackled to the ground. A giant hand swiftly covered his mouth and Adrien felt his hands get bound together with thick zip ties behind his back. A muffled scream of writhing frustration made its way up his throat as his limbs became more and more useless by the second.

No… This can’t be happening! Please, this can’t be how it all ends!

Just when his life had finally gained a semblance of normalcy and he’d found happiness again, it would get ripped away and he would disappear without a trace, leaving everyone to wonder what had happened to him. Leaving his friends to think that Gabriel had pulled him from school and they would never see him again. Leaving Ladybug to wonder if Chat had abandoned her forever. Leaving her to fight Hawkmoth alone. Again.

He couldn’t let that happen. He thrashed and struggled as furiously as he could, fighting the feelings of overwhelming helplessness that threatened to consume him. Nearing despair, he was too distracted to notice Plagg phrasing through the wall, away from the skirmish, in search of the only person who could save him.

(Mood music: "Run" - Ludovico Einaudi)

Marinette fidgeted with her pencil, her feet wiggled and bounced under her desk. She didn’t understand; when she’d arrived at the art club, her head had been filled with inspiration and ideas that she’d been excited to draw and execute. However, at the moment, her mind was filled with noise and disquietude.

Having had enough, she excused herself to visit the restroom. Once she’d walked far enough from the classroom, she opened her purse to talk to Tikki about her current dilemma.

“It’s the same feeling as last night, Tikki! Except that would mean one of three possibilities. Option A.) It’s nothing and I’m going crazy. And— don’t give me that look, Tikki! I can see what you’re thinking and I don’t have time for your cheeky sass right now!” The kwami snickered while Marinette cleared her throat and continued, “Option B.) that Chat is here, at this school, which is impossible because his school’s on the other side of the city, that’s why he always leaves the house super early for his long commute.”

Tikki opened her mouth and looked like she was about to say something, but then didn’t (...or couldn’t?).

Marinette resumed, “Or, C.) that my–– what do I even call it? My ‘Spidey sense’??–– that it’s got a long distance mode, and Chat is all the way across Paris and he’s in trouble! But what am I supposed to do about that from here?! I wouldn’t even know where to begin looking!”

Tikki shrugged. “Follow your instincts, Marinette. There’s no harm in taking a quick look around the school, right?”

Marinette groaned. “UGH! It doesn’t make sense!! Am I going to get interrupted like this all the time from now on?” She shook her head resolutely. “No. I can’t just go off on random field trips every single time I feel a random fit of anxiety. I’m sure it’s just leftover jitters from last night. I’m supposed to call Master Fu after school anyway; he can help me figure everything out. I’m just gonna go back to class and forget about it.”

Tikki frowned, not quite convinced, but deciding not to press further.

Marinette made her way back to the classroom in a frustrated huff. But as her hand reached to turn the handle, the feelings of danger and urgency multiplied tenfold. Without a word, she sprinted away in the opposite direction, not even knowing where she was running to, only knowing she had to get there immediately.

She reached the large common area of the school downstairs. Her head whipped around, frantically searching for something, anything. In her haste, she didn’t notice a small black creature zoom into her open purse.

A few moments later, she felt a frantic tugging at her shirt from below.

“Marinette!! Over there! Check the locker room, quick!!!” Tikki whisper-screamed as she peeked outside the purse, her tone uncharacteristically frantic.

Marinette nodded, then sprinted to the locker room.

“Wait! You should transform first!” Tikki added.

No time!

“Marinette, wait!!”

Despite Tikki’s protests, Marinette raced towards the double doors, tackling them open.

Three sets of eyes landed on her as she skidded to a halt, but only one pair consumed her entire attention. She gasped in horror, hands flying to her face as she stared at what was occurring in front of her. Adrien let out a desperate, muffled scream urging her to run.

His panicked voice snapped her out of her dazed shock; but instead of running, she stood her ground, eyes darting back and forth across the area searching for something useful. The room was remarkably barren except for a lone broom a short distance away from her. She grabbed it and leaped towards the closest attacker (the one holding Adrien down), swinging it like a baseball bat.

The man didn’t even try to avoid the hit; the broomstick merely bounced off the side of his face where Marinette had hit him. She frowned in confusion, then tried hitting him again, bringing the stick down on the top of his head like an axe.

SNAP.

The end of the broom flew off, and Marinette stared in shock at the broken broomstick.

“What the hell are you?!” Marinette exclaimed, shifting her grip on the shortened wooden stub.

She pounced at the second bodyguard, bringing her weapon down in a stabbing motion; but he swatted at her hand, disarming her. She yelped in pain, leaping backwards to get some distance between them.

She was outmatched. The only strategy available was to use their own size against them. With a feint to the side, she shot at his legs for a takedown, hoping to catch him off balance. He called her bluff and shoved her backwards with his giant palm, then kneed her in the stomach.

Winded from the impact, Marinette doubled over with a gasping wheeze, fighting with all her might to keep herself from collapsing onto the ground. She forced herself upright and attacked again. With a clumsy jerk, she lunged forward, swinging wild punches at her opponent. The shots connected but his expression barely changed; it was like beating a breathing punching bag.

The bodyguard backhanded Marinette across the face. Pain shooting across her cheek, she staggered, almost losing her balance. In her daze, she watched helplessly as the man reared his arm back. There was no chance to dodge. His fist connected with her abdomen, delivering a liver shot that shut down her entire body. She crumpled to the floor as if boneless. She tried to call out Adrien’s name, but her mouth merely opened in a silent scream.

Marinette could hear Adrien’s distressed screaming, but it sounded distant, like they were underwater. The edges of her vision grew black and fuzzy, the entire room dissolving around her. She had to consciously force her lungs to inhale, but couldn’t fill them all the way, as if a boulder had been placed on top of her chest.

Faintly, she felt herself getting picked up off the ground and carried away over someone’s shoulder. Disoriented and semi-blinded, the sudden movement and rough jostling made her head spin and gave her vertigo. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block it all out.

A few moments later, they stopped moving, and she heard a door burst open. Where were they? Before she could gather her senses, she was in the air, thrown several meters away, landing with a hard thud. A sharp pain traveled down her body as she rolled into the wall across them. The shriek that tried to escape her throat emerged as a strained, shallow whine.

The man stomped out, leaving her alone in the room. “Stop…!” she rasped out, managing to tilt her neck upwards, head pounding.

The bodyguard slammed the door shut, followed by a bang and a clattering sound that could only mean he’d broken the doorknob of whatever room she was in.

Marinette's vision became more and more blurred. At the verge of losing consciousness, she fought to keep her eyes open as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

No, she couldn’t pass out! She had to save Adrien! Stay awake, Marinette, stay awake!!

She bit down on her lip hard, focusing on the sharp sting, on the swelling that was already forming around her right eye, forcing herself to feel the pain her body was in. At this moment, feeling pain was better than falling unconscious. She concentrated on her breathing, slowly regaining her senses.

She reached down to open her purse and get Tikki’s help… only to be met with emptiness. Panic settled in her gut as she realized that sometime during the skirmish, the purse had slipped off her shoulder. She sat up, slowly, so she wouldn’t risk feeling faint again from the change in positions.

She squinted, adjusting her eyesight to the darkness of the room. It seemed to be some sort of supply closet. After a failed few attempts to stand, she crawled towards the door instead, careful not to bump into the crates and shelves that filled the area.

The girl eyed the broken doorknob wearily. She was pretty proficient at lockpicking and breaking into things, but not as good at breaking out. Her only hope was that Tikki would be able to find her… if she was even nearby.

She swore to herself. Why had she rushed in and attacked two grown ass men (who, incidentally, may or may not be supernatural to boot!) instead of hiding and creating a strategy?! Now she was useless, Tikki was gone, and Adrien was surely on his way to get auctioned to the highest bidder in the criminal black market and ransomed off for an enormous sum. Great job, Marinette. Adrien’s been abducted and it’s all your fault.

Gathering all the determination she could muster, she tried to call out for help. But her voice was still too hoarse, and only a weak croak came out. She clenched her fists, grumbling irritably. Time for a different approach. Somehow, she needed to make noise.

After a brief search, she found a hard, metallic object that she could use to hammer on the door. She tested it out; it was surprisingly effective. She doubled her efforts, making as big a racket as possible. Hopefully, it would only be a matter of time before somebody heard her, let her out, and she could go find Adrien.

She couldn’t let anything else happen to another loved one. Not again.

–––––

I'M REEEAAAAALLY SORRY FOR THAT CLIFFHANGER JSHDKFJHSKDF ᕕ(╯°д°)ᕗ  I tried splitting up the sections differently but it didn't really flow as well.

But the next chapter is almost done, so I'll have it ready by next weekend!!

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 3.3

"You can't run from us."  Aether's lifeless eyes stared straight through you.

"Your time has come,"  Paimon grinned evilly.

"Die here." Childe stood between them as they all surrounded you, his eyes more devoid of emotion than Aether's.

"Leave me alone!" Your shout echoed through space.  "You can't hurt me! Xiao will protect me!"

"You think he can protect you from me? Oh, ojou-chan〰" Childe knelt in front of you and grabbed your chin.  "You're naïve to rely on him.  But I suppose it's all you can do, since you're too weak to defend yourself."

"Xiao!" You slapped the Harbinger's hand away and scooted backwards.  "Xiao! Adeptus Xiao! Please!"

Childe's manic laughter drowned out your desperate cries for help.

You awoke with a gasp and sat up.  Who was it that you could trust?  Aether was your number one answer out of the three of them, but after seeing that expression on his face, you weren't too sure.  Helplessness overwhelmed you, and your eyes struggled to adjust to darkness.  The campfire was dim and close to burning out so you added a few blocks of wood without disturbing anyone.  You lay your sluggish body back onto your sleeping mat and finally caught your breath, the cold sweat evaporating in the cool spring air.

The rustling of leaves to your right made you snap your head in that direction. Who was tasked with keeping watch tonight?  A quick glance around the campsite answered Aether.  But no one showed themselves near the rustling, and Aether was on the opposite side of the campsite.  You glared into the darkness and instead of being greeted with malice, a gentle breeze brushed past your face.

Wind?  It didn't make any sense.  Nothing else was being disturbed in the camp besides your hair.  You felt someone's presence, and yet no one was standing there; your adjusted vision proved it.  The presence comforted you in some strange way, and it felt familiar too.  You peered up into the tree canopy and found no figures sitting on the branches as you had expected.  

"...Xiao?" You practically mouthed the word.  The breeze swirled around you a few times, brushing against your arms and shoulders, then blowing your hair out of your face until it finally retracted and caressed your cheek--a lingering touch.  "You heard me."  Tears welled up in your eyes at the realization.  

He had only been gone for two days, but you never felt his presence like this before.  Even in person.  He was watching over you the entire time, even if you didn't realize it.  You may not have called for him consciously yet he heard your prayers nonetheless and came to you.  You found yourself reaching out into the open air silently begging for the breeze to return to you once more.

It did.  

A swift yet gentle trace from your forehead, down the side of your face, across your jaw and ending at your chin.  You could feel the gentle nature radiating from the force, even if it wasn't a lot considering the yaksha only knew death and destruction.  Still, he persisted to try and convey his thoughts to you.  It felt as though he was smiling ever so slightly as he did this, and you smiled back at the empty space.

But as quickly as he traced your face, the breeze dispersed and he was gone.

........................................

Several days passed without incident, and the two adepti had yet to return.  Aether had decided that the group would make a trip west of Dihua Marsh in search of a treasure rumored to have been left behind by a yaksha long ago.  By the time the group reached the stone tablet that held instructions for this treasure, you were already overwhelmed with missing Xiao's company.

"'My name is Bosacius, one of the Yakshas,'" Paimon read aloud to the group.  "'I followed my Lord to fight against and contend with pestilence. Yet though we Yakshas had great might, we were bound by our duties, and stained by them...Liyue is now at peace, but of our number, none but Alatus and I remain. And for my part, I wish to depart, to be done with this world.  My wealth I leave here, sealed by my arts. If you are fated to do so, take them as you please.'"

"Did they...kill themselves?" You voiced the question on everyone's minds.  The group was silent as they contemplated the meaning of the yaksha's words.  

"If that were the case, I'm sure Mr. Zhongli would know," Childe stared grimly at the tablet.  There were no records of Alatus surviving nor dying as far as he knew.  Perhaps this adeptus was living a peaceful life he could disrupt on the Tsaritsa's behalf, and not waste time with you and Xiao anymore...

"I've heard stories of the yakshas," Diluc nodded.  "It's been said that some were driven to the point of insanity from fighting daemons under Morax's orders.  They'd be put down by their allies if they didn't kill themselves first."

"That's horrible," you muttered and lightly touched the crumbling stone.  "I've heard names of yakshas growing up, but this is the first time I've heard of an Alatus...what a pretty name.  I wonder what happened to them?"

"Paimon hopes they managed to find at least some happiness in their lives."

"Yeah..." You stood up and contemplated the tablet.  Alatus and Bosacius...I wonder if Xiao knew them...And to be driven to insanity no less...Xiao has the same task, yet he seems to be doing okay.  But what if he isn't? Your eyebrows scrunched together at the possibility.  I pray you're doing well, Xiao.

"Well, let's go find the treasure! Maybe those two hilichurl camps hold the light actuators!  And the other one might be up the hill!"

"You sure moved on fast," Aether commented.  "Let's see...Diluc and I can take the camp with the lawachurl.  Childe and Bennett could take the one over there, and you can go up the hill."

"Actually--"  Bennett stepped forward with a nervous grin.  "It would be better if I went alone.  I could get you injured!"

"A little injury won't throw me off," Childe assured.  "Don't worry so much, comrade."

"Uh...o-okay..."

"Can you handle yourself?" Aether turned to you.

"Yep! I'll yell if I need help."

The group dispersed.  You climbed up the hill to be greeted by two powered-down ruin guards.  The light actuator sat in a locked cell tower.  One ruin guard sat at the top of the stairs connected to the tower, while the other sat a little too close to the rock you needed to use to free the actuator from its prison.  

"I should be able to get up there without waking the machines."  You carefully walked up to the glowing rock and started slicing at it with your sword.  Once it shattered, you grabbed the orb that burst from it and made your way over to the left side of the tower, placing it in the lantern that sat half-buried in the ground.  You sheathed your sword before climbing.  

Once you got to the top, your foot slipped and kicked a rock over the edge of the structure. You had just grabbed the light actuator when you heard the metallic sound of machinery standing up behind you.  The rock had hit the sleeping ruin guard.

"Crap!"  You peeked below you, and found the cyclops eye staring straight at you.  It turned around and bent over slightly, and heat rose from its back as it fired up its rocket launchers.  You scanned your surroundings.  If you ran left, you would wake the second ruin guard.  If you went right, you risk breaking your ankle if you land wrong.  Either way, the rockets would hit you since you wouldn't have enough time to dodge at this distance.  "Dammit."  You clicked your tongue and threw yourself off the tower before you could hesitate.  The rockets hit the cell and launched chunks of concrete into the air.

You rolled on the ground for a few feet, and sat up.  The ruin guard was now facing you, but instead of following through with its programmed set of attacks, it squatted and readied its launchers again.  

"The eye!  I need to hit the eye!"  You pushed yourself to your feet and hesitated.  You were at a larger distance from the guard this time; it would be simpler to dodge now and attack after.  If you ran towards it now, you'd definitely get hit.  Your hand fell to the hilt of your sword.  I could throw it.  It was instantly unsheathed, and you chucked it at the eye of the machine.

You missed.

It had hit right below the eye and clattered unceremoniously onto the ground.  You frantically glanced around for something to hide behind. A medium-sized rock was to your left.  It wouldn't provide full cover, but it was better than nothing; you dove for it and covered your head.

Nothing happened save for the sound of an arrow whizzing through the air.  You peeked over the boulder to find that Childe had hit a bullseye and transitioned into his hydro blades.  He defeated the ruin guard in less than ten seconds.

"It's a good thing I got here in time," he turned to you and his bow disappeared behind his back.  "You would've been seriously injured if you had gotten hit with that rock."

"T-thanks," you rose from behind your lousy shield.  "But I had it under control."

"Oh?"  Childe plucked your sword off the ground and handed it to you with an amused expression.  "This sword's seen better days.  I'll get you a new weapon."  You sheathed your sword without replying, and Childe's face fell.  "Are you injured?"

"Luckily not."

"That's good."  Relief laced his voice, which relieved you of some of your suspicions.  His gentle smile was replaced with a sigh.  "Bennett broke his arm."

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH46

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

-----

Chapter 46: Star Death Reality Show (XXIX)

All of the blood in Qi Leren’s body had solidified, and every cell was screaming silently, "No, don't, don't be it"! But this useless prayer could not help their current dangerous situation.

The sound from the vent became clearer and clearer, and it came out through the metal shutters. Qi Leren suddenly woke up from the stiffness that was like being thrown into a freezer, pointed to the door, and shouted, "Open the door! Fast!"

Dr. Lu was closest to the door, and rushed to open it. As a result, as soon as he raised his leg, his left foot stumbled over his right foot, and he fell hard on his face. Du Yue reacted quickly and rushed to the door to unlock it urgently. However, Leviathan had opened the metal shutter in the vent, and its tentacles wrapped in tinfoil stretched out from the black tunnel.

Qi Leren fired three shots at the tentacles. Two shots missed and one shot hit, but like last time, with an ordinary gun’s offensive power, it was impossible to break through the octopus’s shell.

The monster fell down from above like a pool of mud and expanded to a size larger than before. Its mass had exceeded that of a human, and after it fell, those branching tentacles spread across the ground like dead roots, motionless.

Qi Leren retreated slowly, glancing out of the corner of his eye at the door. Dr. Lu was struggling to get up from the ground while Du Yue was sweating as he struggled to unlock the door, because it had been Qi Leren who had locked the door just now, and Du Yue was unfamiliar with this type of lock.

No, I can't get out yet. I have to stall for time... But it would be difficult to stall by fighting. The best way is...

Qi Leren shouted: "Du Yue, use your skill!"

By the time the two rookies reacted, Qi Leren had been chased by the octopus and didn’t hesitate to jump into the vent!

"Stop, don’t move! There’s a kind of charge up!" Du Yue quickly launched this bug-like skill card [Protagonist Halo]!

[Protagonist Halo: When you use this skill card, you instantly become the center of attention, the protagonist of the story, and the fearless saviour! You, with the frightening aura of a king, can easily move people’s hearts, but you can always keep your last breath when you are beaten by a powerful enemy, because the enemy can’t help but explain his motives and modus operandi to you (although there may not be enough time). This skill lasts for one minute, with a cooldown time of three hours. During the start of the skill, persuasiveness increases by 20% and some people’s IQ decreases by 20%. You will not die if attacked. After all, you are the protagonist of this one minute.]

With He Yi’s brain, Leviathan was like any boss who had been faced with the lead character. It had forgotten who it was, where it was, and what it was going to do. It just stood there and listened to this guy who was 1.9 meters tall and 18 years old and could barely act as the teen protagonist. He shouted at it with a cracking voice, and sincerely advised it to abide by human laws and surrender itself quickly.

Ah, there was an invisible and intangible mysterious aura on this human being, which made everyone who saw him believe that this was the legendary protagonist! Although it was very angry, it still had to listen to the protagonist's words!

If it wasn't for its lack of vocal cords, it would probably explain its criminal motives and criminal record. Qi Leren took this opportunity to rush to the door, grabbing Dr. Lu with one hand and unlocking it nervously with the other.

This lock should be like this, wrong, so like this, wrong, how is it unlocked?

Under the Protagonist Halo, Qi Leren, whose IQ had plummeted by 20%, went crazy. It took half a minute to unlock the door and kick Dr. Lu out: "Run!"

Dr. Lu clutched his kicked ass and ran away in three steps.

The most delicious one had escaped the danger. Now there were less than 20 seconds left. Qi Leren shouldered the rocket launcher up off the ground and grabbed Du Yue to drag him out. Watching the "protagonist" run away, the monster finally woke up from the unexplained state of wonder, and the huge mouthparts hidden beneath its tentacles let out a sharp cry, rushing to catch up!

This speed was too fast! Qi Leren kicked Du Yue out with another foot, braced himself against the door, and aimed the rocket launcher at Leviathan, but it was too late. The monster had already jumped in front of him, and its tentacles suddenly stretched. He was dragged to the ground by his feet!

As soon as Qi Leren's hands loosened, the rocket launcher on his shoulder immediately smashed down and landed on his instep, causing a tingle of pain, and his left arm was swallowed by Leviathan's sharp-toothed maw!

"Qianbei!" Du Yue cried, looking back to pull Qi Leren out.

At this time, it was too late to save, and even if he loaded the file, he couldn't go back to the time before his left hand was injured. However, Qi Leren still saved. He felt the pain as if his arm was stuck in a meat grinder, everything below his elbow being ground by countless tiny teeth.

But this was also an opportunity. Qi Leren, who almost fainted in pain, used his quick wits, and a miniature bomb from his item bar appeared directly in his left hand—that is, in the belly of the octopus. Only six minutes were left before his privacy time ran out!

This explosion was even more devastating because it happened directly in Leviathan's body! This terrible explosion made the inside of its body turn inside out, and the brain hidden in it was more fragile than any internal organs. After the explosion, the human brain was useless.

Qi Leren's situation was not much better. The heat and impact of the explosion came out of Leviathan's mouthparts towards him, slamming him against the wall and breaking his neck. He died on the spot and was resurrected at the save point.

Du Yue, who witnessed the death of his senior, was still dumbfounded. Qi Leren had already judged the current situation—he couldn't continue to play! To say nothing of his left hand that was basically wasted, he would die in a few minutes if he didn’t stop the bleeding. Leviathan, though badly hurt, obviously did not lose its fighting power, and even became more violent!

At the moment when Qi Leren resurrected, it had already become like a giant spinning top, spinning wildly on the ground and rushing towards them!

Qi Leren, who suffered from the pain, relied entirely on willpower and kicked Du Yue out the door with one foot. After he slipped out of the door, he threw it closed. The sound of heavy objects hitting the door sounded behind him. Leviathan's bloated and heavy body hit the door directly, but it didn't open the door.

Because its brain had been destroyed in the explosion just now.

One destroyed hand, but he lowered the enemy’s IQ. This round was not a loss!

Damn, you shouldn't have forgotten to shoot He Yi's head before, otherwise, how could you play so badly?!

Because of the severe pain from the intense trauma just now, Qi Leren's right hand covered the elbow of his left arm. The part below the elbow has landed in Leviathan's stomach. The blood was spraying out like a broken faucet, reaching half a metre away. The ground was as horrible as a murder scene!

Du Yue looked at Qi Leren at a loss: "Qianbei, your hand is gone! What should we do! It's bleeding!"

Qi Leren glanced at his privacy time of only five minutes. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to stay awake. If he passed out now, with Du Yue's rookie first aid knowledge, he might really fall to the fate of bleeding to death. At this crucial moment, I have to rely on myself. Qi Leren took out the first-aid supplies that Chen Baiqi had once enthusiastically recommended from his item bar, and gritted his teeth: "Help me hold it."

Du Yue held his arm and listened to the thumping sound behind him. He helped Qi Leren to tie the rubber hose with trepidation. Qi Leren pulled hard and tied it around the middle position of his upper arm. The wound finally stopped bleeding crazily, but it still couldn't be stopped altogether.

Qi Leren remembered that Chen Baiqi had once said that if no measures were taken within three minutes, this kind of limb injury was basically equivalent to signing a death certificate. If there is no teammate who can treat it, take a soldering iron or flamethrower and burn it against the wound. Only when the blood vessels cauterize to necrosis would it stop the massive bleeding.

"Go, Dr. Lu certainly didn't go far, and time is running out," Qi Leren said, suffering from dizziness and severe pain, and hurried in the direction Dr. Lu had run away. Along the way, he was still thinking. He had had a fight with the big boss, and was injured and dying. He also ran away with the protagonist. It was like a life mentor of the leading role who was going to croak.

Bah, it's so unlucky!

Before running far, Qi Leren heard Dr. Lu’s voice: "You ran too far!"

Qi Leren and Du Yue stopped, looked intently, and Dr. Lu, who had opened the [Free WIFI] skill card, was squatted in the corner without any presence, shouting at them. Looking at Qi Leren's injury, he was shocked: "What's wrong with you, don't move, don't move, I'll give you quick first aid! Oh come on, this injury is too heavy!"

"There’s still four minutes left," Qi Leren reported the time, in too much pain to speak.

Dr. Lu immediately used "Doctor’s Orders". In the milky light, the continuously bleeding wound miraculously stopped. Although the amputated limb could not grow back, the wound healed quickly and new skin covered it. It was completely healed.

Dr. Lu was also shocked: "This effect is too good... Am I so powerful? Am I really a genius nurse?"

Du Yue said faintly on the side: "You’ve never had such a good effect in treating my injuries..."

"No, no, no, this must be because your IQ is not enough to affect the performance of 'Doctor’s Orders'. The skill card says that the more impressive the patient is, the better!" Dr. Lu said convincingly.

"But your treatment for others isn’t this good," Du Yue refused to accept it and refused to admit it was an IQ problem.

"Right, why is that?" Dr. Lu was also confused.

Just then, the pain that made him feel close to blacking out finally faded away. Qi Leren untied the rubber hose which left a bruise on his arm. He stared at the healed amputated limb on his elbow for more than ten seconds, and then he came back from the state of high tension just now.

Although he had died before, thanks to S/L Data, he has always completed the tasks with intact hands and feet every time, and this was the first time that he has lost a hand directly. He thought he would be disgracefully frightened, but because of these two rookies, he looked much calmer.

"Don't worry, there are people in the Twilight Township who can do limb regeneration. I know them. If you go back and pay a few survival days, you can grow it back." When Dr. Lu saw Qi Leren staring at the amputated hand, he thought he was sad, so he comforted him.

"Is it expensive?" As a poor player who has consumed a lot of survival days in the process of competing with Su He, this was what Qi Leren is most concerned about.

"It's okay, I remember it was just over a hundred days," Dr. Lu said.

Qi Leren, who had only seventeen days to live, didn't want to speak.

Du Yue was not rich either. He said gloomily, "That’s a lot, I only have thirty days..."

There was no harm without comparison, and Qi Leren suddenly felt that he was impoverished...

"It’s nothing, if you don’t have enough, I’ll pay for you. I usually charge for treating others. Healers are quite scarce, so I’ve earned a lot. Right now I have about two hundred survival days!" Dr. Lu said generously.

More than two hundred days… More than two hundred days… More than two hundred days…

Du Yue would be silent when hearing this number, and Qi Leren would cry when hearing it.

-----

Editor’s Notes: For anyone (me) who has forgotten the exact details, here’s the description for Doctor’s Orders:

[Doctor’s Orders] (Non-Binding Skill Card): The ability to work miracles comes with a price – a price for your patients. There will be no mercy given to those who do not deserve. Allows the holder to heal all who meet the following requirements: attractive, not a Virgo and an IQ over 100. The number of requirements met will determine the effectiveness of the treatment. Skill cooldown: 2 hours. (translated by Sigma)

-----

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[mariahthelioness29]

You Can Stop...or Not

Paring: retired! Steve Rogers x Black! reader 

WC: 3.2k 

Warning: Absolute filth, mi gente, mention of alcohol,  SMUT, unprotected sex ( wrap it  before you let .... tap in ), medium rough sex, recording sex and photo taking. spanking, facial. 

So the inspiration came around thanks to this post  Thanks to @blackmissfrizzle  @rasberrylemon​ for encouraging me and @saint-bvcky for being my enabler. 

@avintagekiss24 @siancore @xbuchananbarnes @honeychicanawrites @sapphirescrolls @honestlyfrance @helahades @glittercake @lotusss-flowerbomb @buckybarnesplumwhore @canumoveurseatup-no  @stacee-not-jaxx @extremelyblackandwhite @deansblackbeauty @afriendlyblackhottie @emilykjh @cherienymphe @readinginsilence100

You are at the edge of the pool, taking in the scenery. The pool blends with the vast ocean in front of you. 

It is a beautiful scene, vast blue ocean with islands scattered here and there and the silhouette of mountains far away. 

I’m still in love with you playing on the speakers. You sway to the rhythm. 

“ I’m still in love with you booyyy”, you slurred. That wine is getting you now and you want your Stevie here with you but Stevie was not here yet, he was taking pictures of the local market for some fancy magazine about islands. 

Who would’ve thought Steve Rogers as a photographer, art curator, art director ?  

You smile reminiscing his first exposition, which was you and the clients of Jurnee’s beauty salon. 

You and the journey of taking your braids off and giving care to your natural hair, with his Kodak Duex camera and with other cameras.  Art circles and artsy people made  a new meaning and something revolutionary out of it ,just as the shock of Viola Davis, taking her wig off in How to Get Away with Murder. 

You laughed remembering, cause he did it out of absolute boredom when your friend, hairdresser Jurnee was taking care of your hair.

He was intrigued, you told him it will be a long time and process. Being the stubborn mule he is, he insisted on going with you. Only to be in shock how much time it takes and the procedure. His mouth was agape, when he heard Jurnee telling a woman, how much it was for her microbraids. 

You never heard a group of Black women laugh that much at an expression. Steve Rogers, ex-Captain America, fought purple aliens, dropped from skyscrapers yet he is shocked at the price of microbraids. 

You are a little tipsy so you step out of the pool, dry yourself and wrap your hair in the towel, like a headwrap.  Dancing to your vacay playlist. 

“Shake dat ting miss, Cana, Cana

Shake dat ting miss, Annabella

Shake dat ting yow, Donna Donna

Jodi and Rebecca

Woman, get busy

Jus shake dat booty non-stop”, blasted the speakers. 

When you heard one of your favorite songs, You just had to get on your fours on the lounge chair  and start throwing ass in a circle.

What you did not know is that a very sneaky, quiet Steve was there with his phone, recording. 

Steve just sighs in content, seeing you relax, happy. 

He takes his shirt off, just dropping on the floor.

He sees the bottle of wine that has gone down quite a bit. He chuckles in silent at that. 

You are swaying your hips to the rhythm of those songs you love so much, oh but then you go on all fours and start moving your ass. He has an idea. He takes his phone and starts recording you. He does his best to be quiet, so that you don’t shy away. 

After, coming back from the past, realizing that even going back in time cannot fulfill or make the what ifs come true. He came back but he still had a void. Sam and Bucky tagged him along to various social causes and projects to help the community and it satisfied him but still he needed the warmth of companionship. 

One day he goes day drinking, just cause. He is retired and he can do whatever he wants.

You were the bartender and you clicked instantly . Your warm smile, the gold clips in your braids, your vibrant attitude. He felt something stirring in him. 

He never exposed his layers to someone so deep and so fast. Maybe it was you and the Asgardian mead. 

 The rest is history. You have been inseparable since then. 

“ Oh, what a sight for sore eyes, indeed ”, Steve sigh 

You gasped, and stood up in a flash. When you turn around it was Steve

You let a breath out in relief. 

“ Stevieeee”, you whine

“You have to stop scaring me like that” , you pout. 

“Aww,  I’m sorry, doll. Keep doing what you were doing, honey pie, you’re so beautiful”, Steve smiled again, while picking up the phone again. You roll your eyes, feeling your cheeks heat up but you do as told. 

You get on all fours and start to throw your ass in a circle, you turn your head, seeing Steve in trance with how your ass jiggles. You turn around and bite your lip when you see that  big tent in his pants forming. 

Steve, on other hand, is totally forgetting how to breathe. You always leave him breathless with everything you do. 

He loves this, that he only gets to see this part of you. 

The way your white thong brings out your skin, the way you are moving sends shivers to all his body. You turn around and smile.  He smiles back at you. 

“ Come here, stop recording”, you faux chide him. Steve stopped the recording and put the phone in his pocket. 

or… not”, You tell him, you wink at him. 

He feels his breath hitch. 

“ You sure, doll ?”, Steve breathes out, narrowing his eyes. 

You love it, when he is so full of desire, the Brooklyn accent comes to the light. 

“Let’s make a movie, daddy, not a silent one, full of color”. You smile biting your lip, you walk to him. You turn around and you beckon him with your finger. 

He darts his way to you and grabs you, flush to him and kisses you. 

It is passionate, fierce but slow and cadent. You feel all of him and he feels all of you. 

You break up the kiss after a while. You are closed but you smile to his lips. 

“ Your phone”, you point to his pocket. He takes it out and hands it to you. 

You embrace him with his phone on your hand. You stretch your arm to the side , so you can record him kissing you and press record. 

The glint in your eyes, let him know you are recording. You kiss all tongue, slowly, putting on a show for the camera. He nuzzles your cheek ,then he starts peppering your jaw with kisses.  He dives in the crook of your neck and kisses , suckles and licks your pulse point. 

You hiss and sigh with small whimpers  concentrating that you don’t drop the phone. 

“C’mon baby,  you told me is not going to be a silent movie”, Steve reminds you. 

With that he takes the phone away from your hands. 

He makes you lay and spread your legs. He curls his finger and  takes your thong off and throws it on the ground.

You talk a big game but when he makes you spread your legs, you still feel heated under his stare. He kisses your cheek.

You’re breathing is ragged. 

He records how your center flutters around nothing, how you are glistened and glazed like an overflowing honey pot. 

“Look at all that”, he says in awe. 

“Fuck, all for me, baby”, he asks you looking at you 

“ Yes, Stevie, all for you”, you nod, biting your lip. 

He keeps recording how he slips a finger in you and withdraws it  slowly and enters two fingers. 

“Stevie”, you breath

“Hmm”, he just hums when you are moaning.

He withdraws the two fingers and pushes in three fingers. 

“Daddy, please-, your moans die in your tongue. Steve is entranced seeing the recording and biting his lip. 

Your eyes are rolled in that back of your head and your mouth agape. You are moving your hips up  You whimper when he fingers you faster and faster. 

He hiss with you. 

He angles the phone to your face to record how your face contorted in pleasure. 

You look so fucked out and he has barely begun. You whine when you feel his fingers slipping out of you. 

“ Daddy”, you whine.

He licks his fingers, eyes closed, savoring you off his finger. 

“So good” , he slurred 

You just look at him, salivating. 

“ I’m not done, doll, I am going to taste you”, he rasped

He hands you the phone. You change the camera so that it is recording him now. He blows a kiss to the camera and goes down. 

You jolt and moan with the phone in hand.  You grabbed the phone steady and he starts eating you like a starved man

“Yes, Stevie, make me cum like that”, you cry out and you push your center to his face. 

His face flush against your center. His arms looped around your thighs. He looks at the camera, while giving fast tongue flicks on your clit. 

“Ahh, fuck”, escapes you with  high pitched sounds. You are squirming  but he puts in your place. He enters his fingers in you again and you go cross eyed and  almost drop the phone. 

“ If you drop it, I won’t let you come all night, understood ”, he reprimands you. 

You nod furiously. 

He goes back to business, you are a moaning mess. 

He sucks on your clit and slips his fingers in and out fast against that spot. Your thighs are shaking. 

“Daddy, Stevie”- you shrill. 

Everything is heightened, his lips on you and his beard tickling your inner thighs 

You shriek, “Stevie!!” along with a deafening moan as you cum. 

Steve eyes twinkle in the camera. It is the excitement he feels, because he makes you feel like this along with your taste. He flat his tongue, receiving everything you have to offer. He makes out with your pussy. You cry at the sensitivity. He smirks and then stands up.

He takes the phone from your hands, he saves the recording and then kisses you. 

You both moan in the kiss, sharing the taste of you. 

He breaks the kiss and grabs the upper cushion of the lounge chair. 

He drops it on the floor. 

You get the clue and you drop on your knees on the cushion. He presses record again. 

“Take it out, honey”

You do it and it pops out of his shorts. 

You love it. It is as pretty as him. Slightly curved, long and thick, head glistening  with pre-cum. 

You lick the throbbing vein on the underside, while looking him dead in the eye. 

He exhales “ damn, doll”, with his eyes fluttering. 

Little by little, you put his dick deeper in your mouth until you feel him tickling the back of your throat. He grunts “fuck”, when you cough, taking your head back. His dick is wet and glistening from your spit. 

He is moaning, his hand a little bit shaky, holding the camera. 

He guides your head up and down on his length. 

“You like that honey pie, taking all of me?”, he croaks  

You look up to the camera and your eyes smile while your mouth is full of dick. 

He is a moaning mess, cursing and and his eyes close a little. 

Your saliva coats your chin and the corner of your lips. You are teary eyed. 

You jerk him and suck him. You gaped out of breath, you smiled at the camera, while jerking him off.  

“ You like that, daddy ?”, you ask with faux innocence. 

“You know, I do, honey pie”. He breathes out. 

“Daddy, you are going to split me open with this” and you jerk him faster.

“ Yes, baby, I want to so much,” he croaks 

You go for his balls and tug them and you flick your tongue on them.

He groans, “y/n, baby”. 

You just keep doing it, while you keep seeing his mouth open, strangled moans coming out him. 

“ Y-”, he can’t even form a coherent sentence. He just groans and bite his lip. 

You are just bobbing your head up and down. Every now and then you lick the tip. 

“Baby, if you keep doing that, I am going to cum, he rushes in a whisper

You stop and he stops recording, saving the recording. 

He exhales a breath, and traces your lips with his thumb. 

“You and that mouth”, he shakes his head grinning. 

“ I love sucking you off, daddy”, you look up at him grinning too. 

You suck his thumb and then stand up. He takes your hand in his, turns you around and spanks you hard. 

You yelp, surprised by the slap on your ass cheek. It stings so good so you moan out.  

He lands on his knees on the lounge chair. You sit in front of him. He brings you flush to him. He hands you the phone. You know what to do.

You start the camera, press record. 

He is breathing you in. He starts kissing the back of your neck and nipping your earlobe. 

His chest against your back. He snatches your biking top of you and starts jiggling your breast playfully. You both laugh at the camera. He kisses your cheek. You feel his beard tickling your cheek. 

He caresses your perky nipples with his thumbs, putting a little pressure on them. 

You sigh and your head falls on his shoulder, your eyes fluttering, you are still holding the phone. He says to your ear “ I love you”, honesty dropping in every word, while squeezing your breast. You put your hand on top of his and  you say “I love you, too”. 

“ Ass up, face down, doll”, he orders using his Captain voice. 

Here I thought you loved me, hmm, you say with faux disappointment. 

He laughs “ I love you so much, but let me show you how much with my body”. With that you stop the recording and save it. 

You hand him the phone. 

You are ass up and face down. He enters you while filming. 

“Damn”, you groan. Your walls still need to adjust to him after all this time. 

He breathes heavily.  

Wine slow was playing on the speakers 

“ I love it when you shake it, baby, you have the prettiest ass, show me how much you want my dick doll” , he grits out  filming you and the scenery in front of you. 

You shake your ass, almost pulling him out of you and then you slam your ass flush against his hips. You are moaning incoherent sentences, while you were moving your ass to the rhythm of the song.  

“Stevie, daddy, I feel in you in- you moan- in my stomach”, you croak.

He records it all, he encourages you  “ That’s it, honey pie, I’m all yours use me baby and he spanks your cheek. You whine. He takes your hip in one hand and starts thrusting his hips with madness in you. 

You open your mouth in a scream but nothing other than strangled noises comes out. 

He spanks your ass again. He moans when your walls spam around him. 

“ Let me hear you, sweetheart”, he pants. 

He grunts and groans, seeing on the phone, how much you are creaming for him. 

You are whimpering, feeling him in your guts. You feel your inside getting tight, squeezing him

He groans “Fuck is like vice ” ,he grunts. 

“Daddy, I’m close-, you cried out. 

He pulls out, you groan in frustration: “whyyyy!”

“Calm down, baby, my hand is just tired, let’s go to the room, I put this phone on the nightstand and fuck you proper”, he explains to you. 

You stand fast and he just laughs and you laugh. 

“Eager little thing”, he bops your nose and you cast your eyes down, smiling. 

He brings your face up with his thumb and forefinger on your chin and gives pecks to your lips. 

You walk to your room hand in hand naked, the phone in his hand. 

He puts the horizontally on the nightstand against the lamp and with the volume key, he hits the record.

You are laying on the bed and you receive him in your arms. You spread your legs real wide for him. You both kiss until you are out of breath. 

“ I love you”, he pants. 

“I love you”, you repeat to him. 

He folds you more when his knees meet the back of your thighs. Your legs are beside your ears. 

He starts pounding into you without mercy. The room is filled with his pants and grunts along with your cries. The sound of skin against skin. “ You’re so deep, daddy”, you cry out eyes wide like you could not believe he is this deep. 

“ Take it, doll, that’s..- fuck, ahh- that’s where I belong-hmmm- deep in you”, he gruffs. 

He pistons his hips against yours, non-stop.

You can only fist the sheets and moan to the ceiling. 

He look so hot like that, eyes full of love and lust with his hair hanging on front of him

He feels you squeezing on him and he lets out a long moan. He knows he will not last. He starts rubbing your clit fast. 

“ You gasp and you start whining, “ Stevie, baby, just like that”,  you croak. 

You arch off the bed with a long moan, you drop your body back on the bed, you feel electricity from head to toe. 

Steve pulls outs and straddles your torso. 

You start encouraging him. 

“ I am so dirty, daddy, I even let you film me daddy, you coo at him

He is just jerking himself fast. His eyes are almost black from the lust. 

“ Paint my face with your cum, daddy, I needed” , your smile at him. 

“Fuck, y/n, baby, fuck you are such a sight,” he pants. 

You stuck your tongue out to him. He was done for.

He cums with a strangled mention of your name, and a long moan and groans.

You close your eyes, smiling spurts of warm cum, landing all over your face and mouth. 

Steve mounts off your torso. He sits next to you. You sit up against the headboard. 

“ Such a good girl”, he says in awe. He gets off the bed and goes to his bag. He takes his polaroid in his hand. 

“Say cheese, honey pie,” 

You smile big for him with your face full of his cum. The picture slides out of the polaroid camera. He puts it on the nightstand. He coos “ So pretty”, looking at the picture. He sits next to you on the bed. 

He scoops his cum  in his fingers and lets you suck it off his finger. He does that until there is no trace of cum on your face. He kisses you deep. 

“ You think we did good enough for a porn”, you ask him. 

“ I know we did, pornstars, it is their job, and they do a damn good job but we are different, It is love”, he assures you. 

With that he stands up and he picks his phone and stops the recording and saves it. 

“ You know, doll, I like this recording thing”, he says while wiggling the phone in his hands. 

“I already know where I want to do it, next”, he smirks and winks at you. 

“Oh..”, you blink your eyes in surprise with a hand on your chest. 

“How about tomorrow in the deserted beach on the other side of town”, he smiles. 

“ Loving on an island 2”, You say seductively.

You both laugh. He goes to the bed and lays scooting to you.  

He lays his head  on your chest and you  run your fingers through his hair.  Both sighing in content. 

“You know, we have our clothes outside”, you remind Steve

“ I’ll pick them up later”

This is his life right now, enjoying the world he was once denied along with you and his friends. There is only the present and he will enjoy it. 

[neon-junkie]

Dead, but wanted Alive

Summary: You've been under Marshal Davies' wing for a few months now, training to become a Marshal yourself; but after a job gone wrong, your boss decides to punish you in a way that isn't according to the laws procedures.

Pairing: Marshal Tom Davies x gn!Reader

Word Count: 3703

Rating: NSFW

Tags: Boss/employee, Sheriff Reader, Gender-neutral reader, Smut, Punishments, Spanking, Office/desk sex, First time.          

Notes: no fucking content for Marshal Davies?? are you KIDDING me?? LOOK AT HIM. here's my contribution x

Oh, this was definitely your fault, there's no doubt about it. One silly mistake from you, pent up from the pressure of this mission, a literal slip up and a misfire of your gun, and the bounty that was needed alive was killed. It's hard to believe you're a Sheriff, and somehow still standing. Normally, life is fine. Normally, you can go about your day and bring in outlaws from all over, posse up with your crew of Deputies and Trainees. But this was different.

Marshal Davies had approached you a few months ago with the promise of climbing up the ranks. He had picked you personally, so impressed with all your work over the last few years, cleaning up your area and even beginning to move onto the surrounding states. "Well, I never doubted you," he would say whenever you submitted a report to say yet another gang or pesky outlaw had been brought to the hand of justice, but sadly, those words didn't fall from his mouth today.

Instead, all you were met with was a scowl from his remaining eye, and a frown, partially covered by the thick light hair of his moustache. He didn't say anything, which made you shake in your custom leather boots, because as you know, when Marshal Davies is furious, he shuts his mouth and lets his thoughts manifest, usually jumping straight to finding the solution on how to fix his problem.

And this time, you're the problem.

The ride back was silent, ungodly silent, and even your horse began whining from the tension in the air. Usually, whenever the Marshal is around, the two of you natter away for hours. He's a chatty man and once you get him onto a topic he enjoys talking about, he doesn't shut up, even during a fight.

There's even been the odd occasion where the Marshal had given you that look, with a glisten in his eye and a smile that he's clearly trying to hide, almost like a shy schoolgirl, after you've made a particularly flirty comment that's managed to make him blush. Who would have known that a man with such power would blush like a shy lamb whenever you make a bold comment towards him.

Apart from that one time... You'd helped him clear out a gang up near Butchers Creek, a sickening sight and an even more sickening fight, but both of you managed (along with some help from the Deputies, but they don't matter right now.) Your horse bolted in the gunfire, later showing up back in Van Horn, and you hitched a ride with the Marshal. He was quick to dismount when you both arrived back, only to offer his hand as he helped you down from his Mustang.

There was a soft smile on his face, followed by a comment that still gives you the chills to this day; "It's always a pleasure working beside you, Sheriff, and even more so riding with you."

Beautiful.

But no flirtatious comments were exchanged today, nor regular ones, and now you're back at his office, dumping the outlaws body round the back to be buried later after paperwork is processed. At least the Marshal is holding open the door for you, beckoning you into his office and closing it shut once he's entered.

He locks the door, followed by shutting the blinds and lighting the few lanterns around his office. It's not too dimly light, just the right brightness that you don't need to squint, but you decide that this is just the right setting for him to finally bash your skull in after today's mistake, only that's far from his plan.

"Please, take a seat. I need to fill in this paperwork, then we'll... discuss today," Marshal Davies tells you, pointing to the chair on the other side of his desk as he takes his own.

He lets out a sigh as he finds the documents and gets to work, whilst you attempt to relax in the wooden chair, poorly padded and turning your bum numb as every second passes. The Marshal doesn't look at you once, he hasn't since he scowled at you after you accidentally killed the bounty, and you're uncertain if his lack of glances are a good thing or not.

 You should probably stop watching the clock. Both of your arms are on the chairs armrests, with one raised, so your head can rest in your hand, your eyes feeling heavy from boredom as you watch every second pass. Literally.

The cough Marshal Davies lets out physically makes you jump, and you turn to see him sat there, his arms resting on his desk, and his eye finally on you. He's still frowning. However, there's no funny feeling in your gut, nothing that tells you the Marshal is going to start screaming at you, nor kill you off, and his tone is calm as always as he finally speaks.

"Let's talk about today, shall we?" he asks.

"Alright," you sheepishly reply, turning your full attention to him, but the sound of the ticking click echoes in the back of your mind.

"What happened?" he questions. A simple statement, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't scare you.

"I slipped," you reply, and instantly begin explaining. "The slop we were on... Well, it was muddy. You were there, I saw you sliding about in it also, and I slipped at just the right... I mean, wrong timing and..."

"Managed to pull the trigger, just at the right angle, landing a bullet in our bounties brain," he finishes your sentence off for you.

"Yeah," you say with a nod.

"That isn't what I've written in the report," Marshal Davies replies, and you raise an eyebrow at his statement.

Marshal Davies sighs, his eye glancing down at his hands before looking back up at you. "Due to the angle that the bullet hit his brain, I've written that he took his own life, rather than allowing us to capture him."

"You have?" you question, his words sounding too good to be true.

"I have," the Marshal replies with a nod.

You let out a sigh of relief, melting into your chair as you finally relax, knowing that you're not going to get it in the neck from the higher up's, nor risk your chance at also becoming a state Marshal.

"But that doesn't mean you're off the hook, at least, not with me."

Your eyes go wide at his comment, and your stomach begins to turn at what he has in store for you. "You're going to put me on traffic warden duties, aren't you?" you ask, knowing there's nothing worse than directing horses through a busy town. It's a newbie job that everybody hates, and you haven't seen it in years, thankfully.

Surprisingly, he laughs at your comment whilst softly shaking his head. "I'm not that cruel," he replies, "at least, not when it comes to formal records."

You feel the colour drain from your face at his comment. So, this is going to be cruel, but not recorded? is he going to go against his job? this wouldn't be the first time, far from the first, but you never thought he'd turn a blind eye when it comes to punishments, nor you.

"I'll save you the embarrassment of not reporting your mistake to the higher ups, but that doesn't mean you're saved from the embarrassment that I have planned," your boss explains, and your mind begins to flow with all the embarrassingly cruel punishments he may have planned.

Marshal Davies is the type to order you to do a stupid song and dance, but that's not cruel enough to be a punishment, although it is embarrassing... there's also the thought of things going, well, a way you'd like them to go, and you know the Marshal would definitely enjoy you watching him literally lick the dirt off his shoes whilst apologizing for your mistakes; now that definitely is embarrassing and cruel.

But instead, he's beckoning you over as he shuffles his chair back a few paces, moving his butt forward to the edge of it, his feet firm on the floor. "Wait, take your hat and coat off first," he orders, and points to the clothing peg by his door, as if you've forgotten where it is, "and make sure the door is locked whilst you're over there."

A quick turn of the handle concludes that his office door is definitely locked, and now you're stood between his feet, watching as he reaches his gloved hands out to firmly hold onto you. "Be good, and follow my lead," Marshal Davies orders, and the second he begins to bend you forward, you realize exactly where this is going.

 Marshal Davies' lap is thankfully comfortable, and you grip onto the arm of his chair for some support, preventing your body from being uncomfortably hunched, although you're certain your comfort isn't the first thing on his mind right now. Your cheeks begin to flush the second his hand rests on your thigh, his fingers pressed just below the curve of your ass cheek, whilst the other one rests between your shoulder blades; tension is growing thick in the air, almost to the point where you forget how to breathe.

"Now, this isn't exactly how I punish all of my employees, but I've decided it's a suitable punishment for you specifically."

Oh?

The first slap to your rear takes you by surprise, a yelp escaping your lips as you look over your shoulder to confirm that yes, your boss has just spanked you, and yes, he's definitely getting ready to land another hit. The gloved hand on your shoulder blades moves up to lightly push at your head, forcing you to look forward, before returning to your back just as he spanks you again.

The Marshal's slaps are firm but fair, stinging slightly, but not to the point where you're going to start fighting your way off his lap. Another spank is landed, and you begin to feel the constant sting, your cheeks turning redder by the second.

"Do you think this is a suitable punishment?" Marshal Davies questions, with a happy chirp to his voice as he spanks you once more.

"I do," you reply with a nod, your teeth slightly gritted as the sting begins to worsen.

"I'm not so sure about that," he laughs, and you feel his legs shift beneath you. 

 A gap appears below your hips, and you soon realize why as the Marshal reaches round to begin unbuckling your belt; it's an awkward position, but he makes quick work of it. Your pants are lowered to your thighs, followed by your underwear, and you manage to look over your shoulder to see how red your ass has become, almost as red as the vibrant cheeks on your face.

"Quit peeking," Marshal Davies tuts you again, turning your head away once more, following his words up with a slap to the rear.

This time, it burns, and you let out a whimper from the sharp contact. More slaps are landed, one after the other, with barely any time between them for you to at least take a deep breath. Your boss wasn't kidding when he said he wanted this to be an embarrassing punishment; you've always taken a liking to him, hoping you'd end up slowly finding other ways to use his office, but this definitely isn't the situation you've ever had in mind.

"I'm quite enjoying this," Marshal Davies comments with a cheerful tone. Of course, he is... "Do you think you'll be more cautious in the future? Maybe watch where you're treading to prevent another slip up like this from happening?"

"Of course, I will," you reply with a sob.

"Let's hope so," he replies, and lands a slap harsher than the rest. This time, you feel like crying, and fall limp on his lap; Marshal Davies actually seems concerned, and is now gently rubbing over your cheeks, attempting to calm the pain he's inflicted.

He softly caresses you, the fabric of his gloves now feeling so soft against your sensitive skin, and you dread to think how you're going to sit down after this, let alone ride back home. There's silence for a short while, just the Marshal tending to your wounds, kneading each cheek gently, and eventually, he speaks up again.

"If I'll be honest, I've been impressed with your work lately, well, I always am, but more than usual these last few weeks, and I'd be happy to reward you, if you'll let me," your boss tells you, and it's hard to miss the purr to his voice.

You've heard this tone before, through passing flirtatious comments, as you're no stranger to flirting with the Marshal. Only you thought they were just playful comments, little nips at each other, nothing too serious; you assumed Marshal Davies is a man who wouldn't mix his work and social life, well, you did think that, up until now, especially considering he's caressing your naked rear after taking pleasure in spanking you.

You wonder how long he's been waiting for an opportunity like this... maybe this was his plan all along? maybe he was waiting for you to 'slip up' so he had an excuse to come onto you, to make things a little more intense between the two of you.

"And how long have you been waiting to ask that?" you question, and the Marshal chuckles as he replies.

"You want to discuss this now? whilst you're bent over my knee with your rear out?"

"Maybe I do," you reply as you look over your shoulder at him.

Marshal Davies laughs again, caressing your cheeks once more, "yes or no?" he asks with a slight firmness to his voice, his laughter trailing off.

"Yes," you reply with a raised brow.

"Good."

Marshal Davies moves his hand off your rear for a brief second, pulling off his glove with his teeth, then throwing it onto his desk - as if he couldn't remove it with his other hand, that remains pressed between your shoulder blades. He slips two fingers into his mouth, dampening them, before making his way to your entrance, gently massaging the tip of his fingers against you for a while.

The hand between your shoulder blades trails up to firmly grip onto your shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine; he's keeping you in place, in his place, strung over his lap and letting out a whimper as he slowly pushes a finger in, cooing at you softly.

"That's it," the Marshal sighs, and gives you some time to relax before he begins to work his finger in and out, prepping you slowly. He definitely knows what he's doing, easing you open so another finger can eventually slip in, scissoring his fingers within time, getting you ready for his length.

"You must be eager, you already feel almost ready," Marshal Davies comments, and your reply is cut off when he brushes against that spot inside you. He pleasantly hums at your sounds, tapping against it once more, enjoying the whimpers you're letting out for him - that you're letting out because of him.

After a few more magic touches from his hands, you're ready, and your boss give you an order that you've always dreamed of hearing. "Up. Lean against my desk, if you'd be so kind."

How could you ever deny him? You're up on your feet, having a stretch as you stand after being hunched over for so long; the pain to your rear is almost gone, mostly because you were so distracted by the Marshal playing with you instead, although you'll happily receive a spanking if it means being sprawled across his lap, and having him have his way with you.

You find yourself leaning over the edge of his desk, slightly bent forward, your hands firmly on the wood after adjusting your pants to around your thighs. There's a light kick at your ankles, and you look down to see Marshal Davies foot between your legs. You know what he's asking for, so you spread your legs apart, spreading them to the same width as the desk. He pushes lightly at the spot between your shoulder blades, lowering you over his desk until your nose can smell the faint, worn oakwood. You prop yourself up on your elbows and attempt to look over your shoulder at him, but his hand meets your cheek, pushing back at you.

"No peeking," he comments.

The only sound in his office is the clanking of metal as Marshal Davies unfastens his pants, along with the clock faintly ticking in the background. You overhear him let out a soft sigh; one hand is placed on your lower back, keeping you steady, whilst he gives his lengths a few pumps.

Of course, you've thought about this before, about your boss fucking you over his desk, but that has been nothing more than a wild fantasy, something to get you hot and bothered about, so you can tire yourself out before bed. But here you are, sighing as his cock is pressed against your hole, slowly gliding up and down over your entrance. Should you really be surprised that he's a tease?

Finally, the Marshal is pushing into you, letting out the most beautiful moan you've ever heard once he's sheathed inside, holding himself there as you relax around his length. He's just the right size, the exact length and girth that you like, fitting snugly inside you. Marshal Davies' hand moves off his cock, giving your ass another caress before he begins making your cheeks sting again.

The Marshal is slow at first, considering your wellbeing over both of yours and his wants, but soon gives in and begins picking up his pace. His crotch begins to slap against your rear, and the pain from earlier partially begins flowing back. Only this time it's different, this time you have your boss thrusting into you, making your eyes fall shut and your head feel dizzy; the pain is out-weighed by pleasure, and you don't even realize you're moaning until your boss comments on it.

"Keep it down, unless you'd like to wake the whole town up," Marshal Davies comments, his hands coming to rest snugly around your waist.

"S-sorry, Sir," you sigh, chewing at your bottom lip in an attempt to silence yourself.

"Sir? You haven't called me that in years," he replies with a light laugh.

He's not wrong, Marshal Davies dismissed the whole 'authority names' once you two began getting along, and insisted you call him Tom instead; but your mind is foggy, and calling him Sir just feels so right, at least in this circumstance.

"Maybe you'll have to start calling me Sir again, but only during our private encounters. I don't doubt that others will catch on if you begin calling it me in public," Marshal Davies laughs again, and soon returns his focus to fucking you.

You've always been the Marshal's prized pony, his obvious favourite, especially considering he vouched for you when it came to your promotion. The other Sheriffs and Deputies across the states still all call him 'Sir' or 'Marshal,' but you have the privilege of calling him by name, only the one time you're not calling him that is when you're bent over his desk with his cock deep inside you. 

 "Touch yourself, that's an order," Marshal Davies says. He allows you to shuffle a pace back, so you can reach between your legs and begin working yourself, feeling your orgasm beginning its approach to peak.

The Marshal lets out a rough grunt as he picks up his pace, your ass still stinging, but oh god, you feel too good to be focusing on that pain right now; you'll worry about it later, later being when you have to ride home after this. The hands on your waist are moved, one gripping the back of your shirt and dragging you upright; Marshal Davies manhandles you, holding you firmly against his chest as he peeks his head forward, speaking directly into your ear in a hushed, deep tone, that makes your body tingle.

"You don't plan on messing things up again, just so you'll receive this punishment, do you?" he questions.

"Course not," you manage to stutter out a reply.

"And you are sorry for putting our jobs on the line, aren't you? like I said, that bounty was wanted alive."

"I am."

"Say it then, say you're sorry, or am I going to have to pull you over my lap again?"

Refusing your apology sounds like a win right now, just like purposely messing up your job does, but maybe he'll reward you in the future instead?

"I-I'm sorry, Sir, for fuckin' up our mission," you whimper your reply, and let out a sudden moan as he slams into you.

"Good," is all Marshal Davies replies, and pushes you back down against his desk, his hands returning to your waist.

The Marshal hits peak soon after, ploughing his cock as deep as you can take him, and spilling his load inside you. The sounds he makes are more than enough to tip you over the edge, and you turn into a babbling mess on his desk as your orgasm hits. Marshal Davies hunches over you for a while, panting softly, and slowly stands upright, slicking his hair back into place before pulling out of you.

He doesn't say anything, he just tucks himself away and takes a seat back down at his desk, pulling his glove back on and ordering you to clean up your mess before you leave. You do so after you've cleaned yourself up, followed by putting your hat and coat on.

Just as you're about to leave, your boss speaks up again. "Good luck with the ride home," Marshal Davies says with a laugh, and you roll your eyes sarcastically at him, saying your goodbyes and heading home for the night.

You need more than luck, your ass instantly burning the second you're sat in the saddle. This is going to be a long ride home...

[darker-soft-starker]

Starker High School AU, Pt. 2 (Pt. 1, Pt. 3, Pt. 4, Pt. 5)

-----

Peter will admit that during he took an extended moment during his journey home to grieve the loss of his free afternoon, and indeed the impending headaches.

And the rest of his future, if he was honest.

Not that Peter was prone to melancholy by any means, but with this assignment his fate was officially sealed, there was no misunderstanding. He was going to fail this assignment. He was going to, for the first time in his academic career, be forced to submit garbage of a caliber worthy of Tony Stark. It will forever be a black mark on his academic record.

No respectable college is going to accept him after this. In fact, he might as well drop out of school now and hit up Mr Delmar for a job. All of his prep for his MIT application is as good as useless after this. Extracurriculars? Goodbye.

Because it’s confirmed.

He’s doomed.

Swaying with the motions of the train, Peter types a text to Ned, the only person who might provide him with some much needed sympathy.

>  I’m doomed >  paired w/stark for an assignment lollllllllll.  >  help

Maybe Peter could trade with Ned. Maybe he could plead with their teacher, for honest fear of his life and scholastic integrity. He wasn’t even exaggerating. In no known iteration of this universe could Peter amicably work with Tony Stark. It would be like Harry Potter sitting down for tea with Voldemort, or Frodo and Sauron chilling with a pint and a pipe in Bag End. 

It was unthinkable. Implausible. Laughable.

And Peter would laugh, were it anyone but him in this situation.

The feeling is unusual. Never had he found reason in his life to truly dislike anybody before, everyone could be redeemed or given the opportunity for penance. Natasha has said more than once that Peter would offer the devil himself a sandwich if he appeared. 

Tony Stark on the other hand? No sandwich for him.

Well, maybe a slice of bread. A stale one.

While he waits for Ned to responds he catches sight of his injured reflection in the train window, which is admittedly pretty gnarly. Even with his hood drawn up, there was a noticeable berth allocated to him in the busy carriage between himself and the other passengers.

< sux. can I have ur lego hogwarts if u die?

> dude :( pity me.

< lol. so, can i?

Peter sighs.

> sure. Look after May for me, bro. delete my internet history.

< deal. godspeed

Pocketing his phone, Peter wonders if it’s too late to take up praying.

---

By the time he’s back in his apartment his mood has managed to swing back up.

Tony Stark is not going to be the arbiter of Peter’s fate. Hell no. He’s smart, he’s creative and hardworking - it isn’t up to anybody but Peter to determine his outcomes. If he has to do the assignment with Stark then he will. And he will work his hardest. 

If he has to do it sharing the credit with Stark, well, Peter knows a concession when he sees one.

No matter how reluctant he is.

But he powers through it, like ripping off a bandaid. It’s fine! He’s a Parker and he’s come this far in life already against ill, Parker-like odds. What was being paired for one assignment with someone who escaped the nearest hellmouth? 

It’ll be fine. 

Probably.

Not letting himself linger on his fears, Peter clears out his previous plans of going on a YouTube spiral and eating sour gummies until his teeth stick, instead utilising the time to get his foot in and and begins prepping for the assignment. Cursory, preliminary research at first, before the inevitable deep dive begins.

Neanderthal, Peter scoffs, mad all over again. Who is Stark to call Peter a neanderthal? He’s second in his class. He’s a straight A student. He likes school.

And as much as he is moderately skilled in, and enjoys JV, it’s not like he received his scholarship to study at Midtown based on his physical prowess.

The graze on his cheek that stings every time he yawns is proof of that.

Stark can eat his entire ass and choke on it, he thinks darkly, as he continues his research. He doesn’t know the first thing about Peter.

The data is sobering as he delves into job listings and statistics of his projected salary in a three year margin. This is really what his teachers earn? Wow. Depressing.

The contrast of expected salary versus the forecast of steep student loans is disheartening further still.

Teaching quietly slips from second to third on his list of ideal occupations.

Turning on a playlist on his phone, Peter continues to compile notes, amassing a truly gargantuan amount of tabs on his browser. His computer, old enough to be on its’ last teeth, whirrs loudly in protest.

It’s not until his room goes dark that he thinks to check the time.

Ah, shit. It’s nearly six.

Peter pauses. Should he tidy up the apartment?

...Nah, no point in breaking a sweat for Stark.

He continues typing. Then he hesitates, fingers suspended in mid-air. 

But what if Stark sees his unfolded laundry out on the dining table and publicly shames him for his old-but-comfortable Bulbasaur themed boxer shorts?

Goddamnit.

---

A quick, cursory clean ensues and leaves a relatively orderly Parker apartment. No freshly laundered underwear is in sight.

Peter wraps up just a few minutes before six. Right on time.

Taking a seat at the now clear dining table Peter drums his fingers on the surface and waits.

And waits.

And waits.

---

He knows when Tony finally arrives when he hears the sound of a car pulling up outside his apartment block. The riffs of a Roxette remix can be heard playing loudly  from the ground to the seventh floor of his apartment, the bass so thunderous it reverberates the windows all the way up to his floor.

Drumming his fingers on the kitchen table, Peter checks the wall clock again. It’s nearly seven.

Tony’s late.

Not that Peter is particularly affected with surprise that Tony is incapable of following basic instructions, but still. Really? Really?

By the time there is a knock on his door, Peter is already before it, his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. Every second between Tony pulling up and his ascent to Peter’s floor has him positively fuming. He can’t believe how this day played out. It started with such promise. He had such innocuous, but high hopes.

Clearly, he miscalculated.

Feeling a touch petty, he waits to answer, listening to Stark knock a second and then a third, more insistent time before he rouses enough calm to open the door.

He instantly regrets it when he does. 

Tony’s expression is curious one as he breezes right passed Peter without waiting for further invitation. There’s a smudge of something dark on his brow, his otherwise white undershirt smeared in dark stains.

Peter watches incredulously as the other boy drops his backpack by the door with a thump.

“You’re late.”

He closes the door behind Tony and scowls at the other boys easy posture, hands shoved into his pockets, eyes taking in the apartment.

“I didn’t realise you lived all the way out in fucking Queens. Do you have any idea how bad traffic is at this time of day? Also, your elevator doesn’t work. I just climbed seven flights of stairs, where’s the hospitality?”

“Try earning it.”

The other boy rolls his eyes. “Like it’s worth my time.” He breezes past Peter and slides his leather jacket off his arms, tossing it atop of his backpack in the corner. “Look, I’m here now. Okay? You can unclench now. So, do I get a tour or what?”

“Or what. This wouldn’t have been an issue if we had just started straight after class like I said.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” Tony clutches his hands to his heart before gesturing to the room. “I didn’t realise I was interrupting your busy Friday night, Parker. You got a keg and the rest of the meatheads stashed away somewhere?”

Without waiting for a response, Tony wanders around the living room like a curious child in a new play room. His gaze inspects everything all at once, from peering at up close at the wall mounted photos and hovering his grubby hands over the oddments and knick-knacks speckled throughout the space.

Apprehensive, Peter can’t help but shadow him, afraid he just let loose a hurricane in a china shop.

Without asking, Tony picks up May’s old Magic 8-Ball and gives it a good shake. Peter’s fingers itch to reach over and stop him, but stops himself because then that would require actually making direct skin contact the other boy.

Not worth it.

“Cannot predict now. Huh,” Tony says to himself before placing the ball back in the wrong spot. 

They both watch silently as it rolls precariously close to the edge. 

“Anyways,” Tony helps himself to an armchair, lounging back and spreading his legs wide. “I know your long-term memory is probably as defective as the rest of you, so don’t strain yourself recalling that I had other priorities.”

“Like what?”

“Like literally anything that isn’t being around you,” the other boy grins. “Now, are we doing this thing, or did you invite me over so you could bitch at me?”

“I didn’t invite you,” Peter grumbles, swiping his notebook from the dining table before sitting on the sofa, as far away from Stark as possible. Shifting, he takes his phone from his pocket and opens the notes he’d taken earlier.

“So, I cross referenced some websites and current job listings,” Peter scrolls through his research, adjusting his glasses as they slip down his nose. “Assuming you have no savings, we’re looking at an average of sixty-thousand per annum based on my salary alone. The average rent in --”

“-- Uh, why are we assuming I have no savings?”

"Because... we’re being realistic?”

Tony springs to his feet and paces across the living room.

“Well,” he says, gesturing to Peter, “if we’re being realistic, does having no savings also that mean I have no debt -- or are you paying off two student loans on your salary?”

“I don’t --”

“Do we have car loans? Health insurance?”

“Wait, slow your roll, Stark. I haven’t yet --”

“-- Of course you haven’t. I mean really, Parker, do you ever think ahead? You should try it, we do have a baby on the way, you know.” Tony clicks his fingers and points at Peter. “Oh, names! I want to call it Molly.”

“As in the drug?” 

“No, as in Ringwald. Anyhoo, seeing as only one of us has the intellectual capacity to construct a budget,” Tony gestures to himself, “that would be me, consider maybe that I spent my savings paying off my student loans and bought a car for me and Miss Molly, leaving you with just your own stagnant debt. Happy?”

“Thrilled,” he says through clenched teeth, feeling utterly steamrolled. “But we’re not calling the baby Molly.”

“Yes, we are. Think of all the great nicknames. Hey wait,” Tony pauses in his pacing, “are your parents going to be home soon?”

It was in that moment Peters world narrows down to one, botched cosmic joke.

Turning his gaze heavenwards, Peter prays silently for mercy. What did he do to deserve this. This is all his bad karma come at once. This is the bad place.

“Ah, no,” he replies, eyes widening. “No, my parents are not going to be home soon.”

“Cool. Lucky you.”

Oblivious to Peter’s existential turmoil, Tony resumes his patrol through the living room, picking up a frame on the mantle. It houses an old photo of Ben, May and a young, bespectacled Peter. 

It is one of the more embarrassing immortalisations of his younger self, eleven-years old and grinning widely, bearing his silver braces to the camera as he holds up a science fair trophy, curls wild and untamed.

Oh god. That was exactly what Peter needed on this unholy day - Tony Stark in his living room, witnessing Peter in his prepubescent glory. 

Quick, create a diversion.

“So, as I was saying,” he says loudly, “rent is reasonably affordable with a sixty-thousand budget in --”

“Who’s the babe?” Tony points to a younger Aunt May in the photo.

Peter gets to his feet and removes the frame from Tony’s grasp. He glowers as he places it back on the mantle. 

“No one you would have a chance with. Can you stay focused? Like, are you physically capable of it?”

“Okay, calm down,” Tony holds his hands up in surrender. “You’ve got a lot of anger for someone so vertically challenged, you know that, shortstack?” 

“Focus, dumbass.”

“I’m focused! Let’s see, we’ve established that I am excellent at managing my money. You have a shitty job and a shitty salary, and apparently my imaginary future self has terrible taste in men. So. Have I got that right? Where are we living?”

“Queens. LIC has some one bed, one baths that could be affordable.”

“Uh, rewind. Going to have to eighty-six that - I am not living in Queens.”

Peter stares at him.

Tony rubs his hands over his face and sighs. “Fine, whatever. But I want a Pontiac Firebird in this imaginary life if I have to deal with you.”

“For someone so keen on getting away you’re doing your best to prolong this experience. It’s literally painful.”

“Well, I just like to see you get all riled up, Princess,” Tony grins, leaning back against the mantle and folding his arms over his chest. “You have this vein that bulges on your forehead when you’re mad. Makes you look like a pitbull.”

Peter swallows the particularly acidic retort sitting on his tongue and tries not to let Tony’s words sting. Be the bigger man, Ben used to say. As difficult as it is to channel even a modicum of the mans’ eternal patience, Peter takes a deep breath and reminds himself to stay focused. The less he gets sidetracked by Tony’s fuckery, the sooner it’s over.

He mentions the next part with unease. 

“...Miss Ahn said that we need references and should do field research. Speak to realtors. Ask people who have a similar lifestyle and budget.”

The look that comes over the other boys face is one of unequivocal revulsion. Peter can relate. The thought of having to spend more time with this guy makes his stomach turn.

“Well, Parker, any bright ideas who we can ask?”

The hinges of the front door squeaks before Peter can respond.

Moments after, Aunt May walks into the living room, placing her bag down on the dining table. She looks between the two boys curiously.

“Hey, Pete,” she comes to his side to squeezes his shoulder. “Who do we have here?”

Tony rushes over with his hand outstretched, an eager grin on his face. 

“Tony Stark, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh, ah, okay, well,” May laughs as he enthusiastically shakes her hand. Her eyes are soft as Tony smiles brightly at her. “Nice to meet you too, Tony. I’m May, Peter’s aunt. Are you... friends with Peter?”

Peter snorts. 

“Definitely not. We just have an assignment --”

“-- Great friends, actually,” Tony talks over him, taking a seat beside Peter on the sofa. To Peter’s utter disgust, the other boy puts an arm around his shoulders, squeezing his bicep encouragingly. “Aren’t we, Pete? Hmm? Best buds. We go way back.”

Peter freezes, feeling the line of heat from Tony’s against his side, the weight of his arm on his body. 

Eyes widening, he feels his skin crawl. 

“That’s sweet,” May smiles, putting her hair up in a loose, messy bun. “Well, I don’t know about you boys, but I’m starving. I’m ordering pizza, Friday special. You should stay for dinner, Tony.”

Tony places his free hand on his chest.

“I would be honoured.”

May looks at Tony strangely before retreating to the kitchen to retrieve the menus.

As soon as she’s out of sight Tony takes his arm off Peter and quickly shifts away from him like he’s been burned. 

“Dude,” Peter whispers, bewildered. “What the fuck?”

“Oh my god,” Tony whispers, shuddering as his face scrunches up in disgust. “I’m going to have to pour scalding hot water on all the places your skin just touched me. Ugh, I feel like I just touched toe fungus.”

Peter slaps his arm.

“What is wrong with you?”

Tony backhands Peter’s arm in retaliation and then shudders all over again.

“Your aunt is crazy hot, okay, I couldn’t help myself. It was an instinctual reaction. Is she taken? C’mon. Vindicate me.” 

“I’ll eviscerate you --”

“-- I mean, clearly she married into the family, she doesn’t share your unfortunate phenotype, but I didn’t see a ring on her finger. So? Yes or no?”

“You’re unbelievable,” Peter hisses as his aunt comes back in. “She’s not available to you. Not now, not ever.”

“But she is available?”

“Don’t even, Stark. You’re like, sixteen. Don’t you have any shame?”

Tony smiles, as she nears. “Not a shred.”

“So,” May waves a menu at them. “You boys happy with pepperoni?”

Closing his eyes, Peter wishes for death.

As fate would have it, he gets pepperoni instead.

-----

If you had ever told Peter that he would be sitting down for dinner with his Aunt and a dirt-streaked Tony Stark, he would have laughed.

And if Peter were outside himself he would probably find the sharing of pizza and soda over their plastic, chequered table-cloth comical -- in that uncanny, Dogs Playing Poker kind of way. But in reality there was nothing funny about the discomfort of having Tony in his personal space or the heavy, suffocating tension that has removed the air from the room. 

The entire time Tony has been hamming it up, cracking jokes with his aunt, complimenting her on the decor, asking what she does for work. Peter doesn’t know if he’s being sweet to May for the purpose of buttering her up, or, given the wealth of his family in contrast to the Parkers, if he’s being cruelly facetious. 

Nonetheless, Peter has felt on edge. It’s disconcerting, is what it is. Every single movement Tony makes, every time he opens his mouth -- frequently to sweet-talk his aunt -- has Peter’s anxiety standing at attention, hyperaware of everything the other boy does.

He’s beginning to feel like a meerkat whose den has been invaded by a lion.

Through the course of a single meal Peter’s attention moves from the sky to the floor. There is no grace or higher power that is coming to save him from this profound, unusual torture. 

So he focuses his hopes to the south, seeing through their tiny, cramped, dinner table, past bargaining. He’s willing to trade his soul to end it all. Surely some wayward being from hell would come to his rescue. 

May has Peter’s chin between her fingers. She turns it this way and that, inspecting his injuries.

“What happened this time, bubby?” She frowns, brow furrowing. “You look like you got beat up.”

Peter, very aware of Tony’s amused gaze on them, gently pulls away from her grasp. He smiles placatingly and picks at his pizza slice. God he’s never going to live this down.

“Training accident. It’s okay, I feel fine. ‘Tis but a scratch,” he brings himself to joke.

“You sure?”

“Yep.”

She leans in to kiss his cheek, carefully avoiding the fresh scabs and injured flesh. “God, you bruise like a peach. Be careful, baby, you’re our money maker,” she laughs. “What about you Tony, do you play football?”

Tony, who is mid way through chewing on a mouthful of pizza, momentarily chokes, beating his chest with his fist to swallow down the obstruction.

“Uh, no,” Tony gulps, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Nope. No recreational sports for me. Can’t.” He gestures to his chest and sighs heavily. “Asthma.”

Peter sips his coke and rolls his eyes, knowing full well there’s a half-empty pack of Marlboro Light’s in the pocket of Tony’s jeans. Asthma. What a schmuck.

“That’s a shame. Do you boys have classes together?”

Unfortunately, Peter thinks.

The other boy seems to have the same thought, as he glares at Peter from over the table. When he picks up his can of coke, he gives Peter the finger outside of May’s eye-line.

“That’s why Tony’s here,” Peter twists his napkin in his grip. “We have an econ assignment together on microeconomics. Teach says Tony’s destined to be on welfare.”

Tony leans in, chin rested on his hand. He addresses May but his stare, dark and odious, rests on Peter.

“Not accurate. Stay-at-home parent, actually. One might say that is the most important job of all. Wouldn’t you agree, May?”

She raises her Coke.

“Hear, hear.”

Tony grins roguishly, the same grin he gave the girls at the lockers earlier. “Petey here was just saying that we should ask you about your experience running a household on a single salary. We’d love to have you as a reference.”

“Was I saying that?” Peter narrows his eyes. “I can’t remember.”

Tony kicks him under the table. The hit lands right in his knee cap.

Wincing, Peter kicks back, satisfied when the other boy bites his lip to hold back a pained groan.

“Yeah, well, not surprising,” Tony says airily, waving his hand. “Hit your head today, didn’t you? Maybe you should get all that damage looked into.”

The napkin rips in Peter’s grasp.

“Maybe you should go f--”

“I’d be more than happy to help with your assignment, boys,” May cuts in.

Whatever snide reply he has in his mouth instantly wilts when he looks over to his Aunt. She looks...pleased. Delighted, almost. Her eyes under the dull, yellow kitchen light seem to get warmer, and her smile is small but softens around the edges.

Instantly, Peter feels like the worst person in the world. Of course May would be the best person to ask. She does so much for him, the least he can do is set his pride aside for one moment to make her feel good about how hard she works for their life.

He reaches over to squeeze her hand, smiling as gratitude swells unexpectedly in his chest.

“Thanks, May. That would be great.”

Across the table, a smug Tony looks like the cat who got the cream. 

Without warning, Peter’s chest goes hot with contempt, his fingernails dig into his palm. He’s not sure he’s ever met anyone he couldn’t like, until now.

I hate you, Peter mouths while May busies herself with rounding up the pizza boxes.

Kiss my ass, Tony mouths back. 

In an instant his expression flips from contemptuous to angelic when he stands and offers to help May clean up.

Peter stands too, sparing a disdainful glance to the floor. Turns out not even the devil was willing to give him a hand.

Natasha was right. It’s going to end in murder.

---

Peter walks Tony to the door after dinner to say goodbye to his ‘friend’. Following him into the hall, Peter closes the door behind them.

“What do you want, Parker?” Tony asks wearily, retrieving a cigarette from his pocket. “I’m trying to make a getaway here.”

Peter crosses his arms over his chest. “Don’t do that with my aunt. I’m not joking, asshole. It’s not cool.”

“Relax, princess,” Tony rolls his eyes, fishing for his lighter in his backpack. “I’m not actually interested. Just trying to get under your skin. Worked, see? You’re easy like that. Hey, why do you live with your aunt anyways?”

“None of your business,” he frowns as Tony holds one hand up in surrender and lights his cigarette with the other. “Dude, you can’t smoke in here.”

“Can’t, shouldn’t, gonna. By the way, you’ve got sauce on your chin, it’s very distracting.”

Peter wipes at it without thinking. When he pulls it away there is indeed a smear of red sauce on his hand.

Tony walks backwards down the hall and exhales a cloud of smoke, waving in a sardonic imitation of a farewell.

“See you Monday, bubby.”

Peter doesn’t bother with a response, too tired from the week, exhausted by this whole darn day, and it’s not like the other boy cares what he has to say anyway. He takes a moment to swallow his anger before he heads back inside, sighing. 

Well, at least he has an entire weekend free of Stark to look forward to.

May looks at him curiously when he reemerges, but says nothing. He considers for a moment about heading to his bedroom and playing a video game to disassociate - but then, suddenly, remembers her smile earlier, and how alone she looks now. A surge of affection hits him right beneath his breastbone.

He checks his watch and then catches her eye.  Tilting his head towards the living room, he says, “Hey. You wanna eat some ice cream and watch some Colbert before bed?”

She smiles just like she did earlier and kisses his cheek. “Sounds nice, Pete.”

Maybe the whole day wasn’t lost.

As May heads to the sofa and switches the TV on, Peter catches sight of the Magic 8-Ball from the corner of his eye. He walks over and gives it a shake.

Outlook good.

*

*

----

tagging: @bylerboyfriends @ravens-starker-stuff, @starker-rays, @ironspiderstarker, @notfor-temporaryuse, @tabbycat1220, @sugarfreecult, @rebel13lion39, @muse-of-gods

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 276: Our Turn to Save You

Previously on BnHA: In a refreshing change of pace from the usual “the adults refuse to tell the kids anything” shtick, Deku and Kacchan flew around trying to get Tomura’s attention while refusing to explain jack shit to Endeavor! Deku eventually thought to ask Kacchan why he was getting in on this, and Kacchan launched into a two-page Denial Speech which seemed expressly designed to prime him for losing his quirk any fucking second now! Tomura then showed up and the two of them were all “KJSDLFK” but thankfully Gran dove in to rescue them from dying INSTANTANEOUS HORRIBLE DEATHS, and reminded them that there are practically SIX WHOLE GROWN-UPS left who can definitely still fight Tomura and won’t die at all!! And one of those grown-ups is Aizawa! Who’s getting ready to fight Tomura now! Listen Horikoshi you fucker, when I asked for more Aizawa angst and badassery this ISN’T WHAT I –

Today on BnHA: Tomura is all “THIS QUIRK WON’T STOP ME BECAUSE I CAN’T READ” and sort of shrugs it off and continues to kick ass even though his Decay and AFO powers aren’t working. The pros all try to stop him with Endeavor taking the lead, and because THEY ALL SUCK, APPARENTLY, nothing they do is effective in any way whatsoever! Meanwhile Gran dumps Deku and Kacchan off and is all “YOU’LL BE FINE HERE” which is the most ridiculous thing anyone in this manga has ever said, and then pretty much as soon as he says it at least nine more High Ends (excuse me, NEARLY High Ends) just POP UP OUT OF NOWHERE and are all “RARR” and the heroes are all “oh shit” and Tomura is all “lol yeah I actually had more High Ends this whole time” and Ujiko is all “it’s true!” and, fuck. The chapter ends with Tomura charging in to kill Aizawa only to be intercepted by MY TWO PRECIOUS BABIES, MY DARLING LITTLE HERO HATCHLINGS, and...!! I blame Gran for this.

gotta say, my sense of time is distorted enough as it is these days without chapter leaks coming out A WHOLE ENTIRE DAY EARLY out of nowhere. not that I’m complaining, because I want to see Aizawa kick some ass & immediately lose his fucking quirk as much as anyone, but it is disorienting

anyway time to dive into this chapter which I predict will be titled “everything instantly goes horribly wrong.” I’ve had a lot of time these past two weeks to think about what is going to happen next, and I’m pretty sure I nailed it you guys

so we’re opening with a familiar sight

I like that Horikoshi thinks that helicopters go “chop chop.” well, close enough

anyway, so yet again we have a scene in BnHA of a town in the process of being destroyed by villains while a helicopter whirs (WHIRS, Horikoshi) and chuffs (SOMETIMES THEY CHUFF TOO) anxiously nearby. I wonder if this helicopter is going to fucking disintegrate. that’d be something new

ARE YOU GOING TO DIE, MISTER LIVE REPORTER SIR. OH MAN. OH GOD I’M ANXIOUS

dozens, you guys! there are dozens of them left! not to worry then. the good guys definitely still got this

oh hey it’s that news anchor with the cutely fucked-up backstory of chopping off his own horn so as to more handsomely report the news

oh god don’t tell me this whole thing is going to be broadcast live. that’s all we fucking need right now. I wonder what’s going to throw society into chaos more, the reveal of just how powerful Tomura is now, or the exposure of what the government-mandated child soldiers get to do during their super-educational practical on-the-job training! no coffee-fetching for these kiddos! we’ve got ‘em rolling up their sleeves and getting their hands good and dirty!

oh hey and it looks like this means that All Might will get to watch protege #2 lose his quirk live on TV -- HEY WHAT ARE YOU SERIOUS

BAD BABYSITTER!! MY GOD MAN, I KNOW YOU’RE THE INDULGENT GRANDFATHER TYPE, BUT MAYBE CONSIDER CHANGING THE CHANNEL TO DOC MCSTUFFINS FOR THE TIME BEING??!

also I know this is just a perspective thing probably but lmao his hand on her shoulder is fucking huge. All Might you been working out again

but seriously this is not good for either of them to witness. they don’t need more trauma in their lives! All Might doesn’t need yet another thing to blame himself over! and he has conflicted feelings about Tomura still on top of that which I’m sure isn’t going to make this any easier. ANGST ALL AROUND. EVERYWHERE YOU LOOK, EVERYWHERE YOU GOOOO

MOTHERFUCKER I --

is Mitsuki looking at fucking baby pictures of Kacchan. reliving the memories of the good old days, thinking about how far her baby boy has come and how proud she is. that’s just great you guys. that’s just fucking great. these aren’t even red flags at this point these are red fucking tapestries

(ETA: and this basically goes without saying, but I’m sure the fact that not one but THREE Todorokis are represented in this little montage means that Endeavor and Shouto are also going to be just fine.)

:)

HE’S SO HAPPY just fucking try and tell me he doesn’t have a mental fucking link to Tomura and Deku you guys. this bitch knows exactly what is going down right now and he is LIVING FOR IT. that does it. someone please save my spot in the chapter for me I am going to go take a quick walk to calm down

and of COURSE that’s a fucking lie though, god -- [frantically clicks to next page]

LOL HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS

FUCKING MANUAL IS HERE TO SAVE THE DAY LMAO. YOU CAN ALL FUCKING RELAX NOW. and fuck me, I’m so fucking happy RockLockRock is still alive as well but WHY ARE YOU STANDING RIGHT NEXT TO AIZAWA IN WHAT I LIKE TO CALL THE “CAUTION: YOU WILL GET SHOT” ZONE. swear to god Horikoshi THAT MAN HAS A FAMILY don’t you even think about -- !!

sigh, anyway so then the rest of the page is panels of Gran & The Boys, Endeavor, and Tomura, along with the text “WHICH SIDE IS THE VICTOR”, which is not helping matters any! also the title of the chapter is “Cheating” which I assume is a reference to both the erasure of Tomura’s quirk, and the soon-to-happen permanent removal of Aizawa’s. I’m just an optimist like that

oh hey and Tomura’s sending out some quick orders to his squad as well

and to think this homicidal maniac is in my top ten favorite characters. sob. I do love you kiddo so please don’t take it personally that I have to unequivocally root against you here. maybe if you listened to me once in a while and would even just consider my radical alternate plan of not killing anyone in sight

anyway lol but here everyone including myself thought he was going straight for the bullets and instead he was pulling out his phone. shows what we know. [braces myself for the follow-up panel of him putting the phone away again and THEN reaching for the bullets!!]

meanwhile we’re being introduced to some new sidekick of Endeavor’s who’s probably going to set the record for shortest time in between being introduced and dying horribly. sorry Kido. I’m just jaded

don’t mind me I’m just putting up emotional walls in between myself and any new lovable characters as a means of self-preservation. mmhmm. he can manipulate the trajectory of things. that’s nice. he seems nice. wouldn’t that be a nice quirk for Tomura to steal and then trajector a bullet straight towards Aizawa ffffff

(ETA: watch this space, everyone. Endeavor’s Sidekick Kido. gonna fuck everything up for everyone, mark my words.)

so I can’t help but notice that now that Tomura can’t use his quirk anymore and is helpless, they have all decided to just sit around doing nothing again?

like. far be it from me to openly wonder why they are not immediately knocking him out or setting him on fire again or whatnot. I am just a lowly civilian. it’s not my job to question these things

(ETA: I must learn to be patient.)

also lmao at Manual saying Aizawa’s ankle is “twisted”, similar to how Deku is constantly “twisting” all of his arms and legs all the time. or did he mean “twisted” in the sense that his leg was pretty much literally wrung out like a fucking towel

anyway so Manual is waterbending liquid into Aizawa’s eyes like that’s supposed to help him NOT close them

has Horikoshi ever had water splashed into his fucking eyes. he and I have had very different experiences as to the effects of this apparently

there we go!!

at least someone out here is fucking trying. for a second there I was honestly worried we were going to see a repeat of “oh well he seems dead enough, let’s just leave, see you at the victory party this weekend, X-Less”

LMAO WHAT KIND OF NONSENSE

[GRABS THESE PANELS AND WAVES THEM IN FRONT OF THE UNCONSCIOUS HAWKS] DID YOU HEAR THAT. DO YOU SEE THAT, BOYO. FACTS. BEING WEAK TO FIRE IS, IN FACT, 100 PERCENT A CHOICE. IF YOU HAD JUST DONE MORE PUSH-UPS AND TRAINED HARDER YOU WOULDN’T BE IN THIS SITUATION RIGHT NOW. SMDH. YOU FUCKING WIMP. YOU RECREANT. YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED

hooooh man. hokay. whew. has anyone seen my suspension of disbelief. I’m so used to having it on me at all times when I read this manga that I must have let my guard down and now it seems I’ve spaced it out. well we’ll just keep a lookout for it

so now we’re cutting to Ujiko who is gleefully bragging that Tomura’s strength is on par with All Might Prime’s, which is just great. and now he’s also starting this sentence and then just... not... finishing it

that’s fine. you just trail off, then. hang those implications. whatever dude

meanwhile RLR and Manny are helping Aizawa limp away while he awkwardly has to twist his neck around to be able to still keep Tomura in his line of sight. I feel like there was probably a better way for them to do this but whatever

anyway thanks for confirming that Ujiko did make Tomura into a Noumu in addition to giving him AFO, though, Horikoshi! that’s very nice of you to unsink one of my theories like that. appreciate it

and hold up, so it occurs to me that “Being Fireproof” could still be a quirk, but just a mutant-type quirk rather than an activation type, meaning that Erasure would have no effect on it! aha! oh, there’s my suspension of disbelief lol it was in my pocket the whole time!!

anyway so Endeavor and Tomura are tussling but I really wish they’d be more careful because if Tomura is still capable of super strength and super speed then he could propel himself out of Aizawa’s line of sight really easily and I feel like this isn’t really helping

is it just me or do they look like they’re TRYING to jump in between Aizawa and Tomura, like?!?! GUYS

LMAO now Gran is just

SHUP. toss. dusts off hands. well that takes care of that

and apparently he’s under the genuine impression that a mere “now stay put you dumdums” is going to have any effect on these two whatsoever. lol okay. we’ll see

anyways YESSSSS, KACCHAN MEET GRAN, GRAN, KACCHAN

meanwhile Kacchan falls silent as he mentally tries to work out who tf “Toshinori” is lmao. I’M SO CHUFFED ABOUT THIS. YES THAT’S ANOTHER USE OF THE WORD “CHUFFED.” VERY VERSATILE AND REMINISCENT OF HELICOPTER BLADES WHIRLING

and now here’s a convenient map showing how far away Deku and Kacchan are from safety!

thanks for that. that’s so reassuring to have this nifty little visual

OH MY GOD GRAN

DO YOU WANT TO FUCKING DIE?? DOES EVERYONE IN THIS FUCKING ARC HAVE A DEATH WISH. MY GOD

“BUT FAR BE IT FROM ME TO LEAVE WITHOUT ANY OMINOUS FORESHADOWING!!” NO INDEED WE CAN’T HAVE THAT!!!

rather than focus anymore on how goddamn foreboding that is, I would instead like to take this moment to call attention to the fact that Gran apparently knows Bakugou’s name but not Present Mic’s. that’s amazing

sob

what good indeed. imagine if they couldn’t even do that. I imagine that would have some far-reaching consequences which might even be interesting to explore as part of a story

:O

I made the same face as them just now fyi

fucking Schrodinger’s High Ends. they only exist when the plot says it’s convenient for them to exist. maybe they’re like fairies and if you say you don’t believe in them they drop dead. where the fuck did these things actually come from?!

WAY TO DROP THE BOYS OFF IN THE MIDDLE OF NOUMU FUCKING CENTRAL MY GOOD MAN. MAYBE WE SHOULD SCROLL BACK UP AND UPDATE THAT MAP. GOOD JOB LMAO

WHAT THE FUCK

welp. they deleted Tomura’s quirk and then sent the strongest guy they had after him, annnnnnnd he went and beat him anyway in like two fucking seconds. so that’s. ... wowee. ...so do we have a plan b, or...

like, holy shit though?? and can you imagine the kind of psychological impact this is having on everyone watching this live on TV right now?? this is literally the anti-Kamino. holy fucking shit. also did Tomura lose an arm or am I just not understanding this image right?? NOT THAT IT SEEMS TO BE BOTHERING HIM IN THE SLIGHTEST??

(ETA: somehow I missed the fact that he is even calling attention to it lol. “I’ll raise [the other hand] when it’s back.” fucking look at Mr. Transcendent here who’s so powerful that when you tear his arms off all it does is make him more sassy. is he secretly related to Mirko.)

idk guys I really think my original chapter title was better

at least Endeavor isn’t fucking dead just yet. four more pages and you might actually make it out of this chapter alive my good man

blah blah blah flashback to Ujiko explaining that the Noumu could be activated by an electric current flowing through them, and that they’re programmed to move only on Tomura’s orders. you know. just more good news

oh hey but at least these ones are mindless so I guess it’s okay for the kids to kick their asses without feeling too conflicted. it’s just too bad “their strength is higher quality than the others” but you win some, you lose some

OH GOOD, THEY’RE GOING STRAIGHT FOR AIZAWA

I’M SURE THAT MIDORIYA “MY BODY MOVED BEFORE I COULD THINK” IZUKU AND BAKUGOU “I’M THE ONE WHO’LL GET PAYBACK FOR THAT DAY” KATSUKI WILL TAKE THEIR GRANDPA’S SAGE ADVICE AND GO AND HIDE WHILE THEIR TEACHER IS IN DANGER. IT’S NOT LIKE THEY’VE LITERALLY GONE TO SCHOOL FOR AN ENTIRE YEAR EXPLICITLY MAJORING IN NOT DOING THAT. YES THIS IS FINE THIS IS FUCKING FINE AND GREAT

NOW WHAT’S HAPPENING THERE’S LOTS OF RUBBLE FALLING AROUND AND STUFF MOVING AND SOMEONE IS TALKING

OH IT’S HIM

excuse me. EXCUSE ME. no, you are NOT. going to fucking die, Aizawa Shouta. HORIKOSHI KOUHEI!!! YOU’RE UNDER ARREST FOR THE CRIME OF DRAWING THIS FUCKING PANEL. THIS ONE, RIGHT HERE. YOU KNEW WHAT YOU WERE DOING. HOW DARE YOU. how FUCKING dare you sir

and if anything happens to RLR I SWEAR TO GOD!! you know what?! you know what?!?

STOP IT

[sitting curled up into a little ball with my knees drawn up to my chest, drawing little finger circles on the floor] I see. so he’s not even concerned about himself at all. it’s his two tiny little hero eggs, his problem children, and the fact that if he dies here there won’t be anything preventing Tomura from finding and killing them. ahh. okay. it’s okay. that’s fine

and goddammit what is he pulling out from his belt. everyone is on the same page here, right? Aizawa’s Not Allowed To Die. that was the deal. WHAT HAS THIS ALL BEEN FOR OTHERWISE

(ETA: yeah but he seriously did just pull a knife out of fucking nowhere though like the kid in that fucking vine lmao. APPARENTLY HE’S HAD IT THIS ENTIRE TIME?? “what if I just stabbed him” lulz. based on the way things were trending, I’m willing to bet it would have literally bounced off of Tomura’s chest at this point, but I’ll give him credit for making the effort.)

NOPE NOPE NOPE NO

(ETA: Shinsou being in the bottom corner... ;_; )

is anyone listening to me!??! I’m over here screaming myself fucking hoarse??! AIZAWA ISN’T FUCKING ALLOWED TO DIE??!! HELLO!?!?!

lol well at least RLR didn’t get steamrolled over

well everyone. we’ve reached page 18. one more to go. what are the odds we end with the boys arriving in the ta-da nick of time to defend their teacher. just who is watching over whom

THERE IT IS!!!

OH NO OH GOD AM I CRYING??! YOU HAD TO GO AND PUT THOSE FLASHBACK PANELS IN?? HIM SAVING DEKU AND CO. AT USJ, PLUS THAT ONE TIME HE DEFENDED BAKUGOU DURING HIS MOST VULNERABLE MOMENT IN FRONT OF A NATIONAL AUDIENCE??? “IT’S OUR TURN TO SAVE YOU”???

and they look so determined and desperate?? and the “Aizawa-sensei!” echoing in both their minds?? and meanwhile Aizawa looks fucking horrified though, because of all the... [gestures] you know? the Terrible Danger?? sob??

anyway. I really let this manga do this to me every damn week. let it just have its fucking way with me. at least Horikoshi didn’t end up breaking the law after all. I don’t know if I could continue to support a mangaka who is willing to commit an actual war crime. no touching Aizawa. OKAY?? OKAY

[nakedmonkey]

2 for Annie x Nancy! 17 for Beth x Rio!

I no longer have the link for what this was for but I had saved the prompts, and look what happened! 

Annie x Nancy - with relief

“You ever feel like we give our bad decisions too much credit?” 

Annie says this as Nancy watches her get dressed, dressed in a robe herself. She’s home so she doesn’t have to wear normal clothes and that makes Annie feel a little pissed, because she could use a nap after the workout they’ve just had. 

“What do you mean?” Nancy asks, tilting her head and furrowing her brow the way it does when Annie says something she doesn’t understand, which happens a lot. 

“I mean, people do stupid shit and write a love song about it. You know? We romanticize everything to excuse shitty behaviour. Eric Clapton fell in love with his best friend’s girl and then wrote a song about how she rejected him and he persistently pursued her anyway, and it’s his most famous song! I mean, are we, you and I, shitty people?” 

Nancy smiles and gets up, stopping close enough for Annie to smell her shampoo. She begins to undo the buttons she’s just done up, and Annie is about to remind her Ben is due home from school soon, when she realizes she’s redoing them, lined up the right way this time. In her attack of neurosis, she’d missed a couple of them. 

“Have you been writing some songs about us?” Nancy asks, smiling down at Annie’s worried frown. 

“No.”

“Then, I think we’re good.” 

“We shouldn’t be sneaking around. It feels wrong.”

“You’re right,” Nancy says, smoothing her palms up Annie’s chest and over her shoulders. “So, let’s stop sneaking around.” 

“Really?” 

“I’m not ashamed of this. Maybe a little...surprised, but definitely not ashamed. Are you?” 

Annie smirks, already melting under Nancy’s soft gaze. Post-sex Nancy is soft. Who would have thunk?

“No,” Annie replies, wrapping her arms around Nancy’s waist, pulling her in close and tiling her chin up to kiss her chastely. When she pulls away, she sighs with relief, but visibly stiffens instantly at the thought of exposing their month long affair, or whatever, to Gregg. 

Ben has his suspicions. Annie can tell in the way he takes his time opening the front door when he’s seen Annie’s car parked outside Nancy’s house, and the way he takes extra noisy steps coming up the stairs. The way he smiles knowingly at them on movie night before excusing himself early to hang out in his room. But Gregg. Gregg is clueless, and therefore unpredictable. 

“This is good,” Nancy assures her, then, a fleeting spark of doubt in her eyes when Annie doesn’t immediately agree. “Right?”

Annie inhales deeply. 

“Unfortunately, your neurosis and obsessive nature haven’t yet surpassed how good you are at sex.”

Nancy rolls her eyes and gives Annie a playful smack on the arm as she turns away, but she’s pulled back before she’s all the way out of reach. 

Annie holds onto her, making sure she has her attention when she says, “You’re also a great mom. And the best at late night chats. This is good.” 

Nancy looks at her like she often does lately; like she’s trying to figure out how the hell it is that this is actually working, and Annie doesn't blame her. She’s spent nights trying to figure it out herself, but she figures some things just don’t require an explanation. 

Her mouth opens and her breath hitches like she’s about to say something, but then she doesn’t and Annie waits, joke at the ready, teetering on the tip of her tongue when Nancy suddenly says, “I love you.” 

It’s Annie’s turn now to open and close her mouth like a fish, uncharacteristically speechless at the confession. Her heart races then, her palms immediately begin to sweat, and her brain is at a standstill, she can practically hear the record scratch before panic sets in. Why is she speechless? Is this bad? But then, she’s speaking, the words stumbling out of her before she knows what’s happening. 

“I love you, too.” 

And it’s like instant relief. As if the sound of the words alone set everything into place, and right. The nerves are good, the panic is good. Because for once, Annie can place it on something, and it’s not regret or impending doom. It’s the feeling of having something to lose, something to fight for, something to protect in addition to Ben. 

Nancy smiles and she exhales a laugh as Annie pulls her into her arms.

“Oh, thank god!” 

Nancy kisses Annie, holding her face in both hands as she does so. She then sighs, burying her face in the crook of Annie’s neck as they hold each other. 

Annie can’t help the dumb smile on her face, or the way she immediately inhales Nancy at given the chance. A year ago she wouldn’t have known what to do with the feelings doing so would stir, but now it just feels like home–like family. 

Beth x Rio - After an argument

They’ve fought before, but not like this, because it’s not really a fight. But Elizabeth’s been antsy, and sensitive. He’ll be the first to admit that they’ve said ugly things to each other before, and that he can be particularly hurtful when he wants to be. Certainly he’s said things to her that have made her flinch, but he’s never seen her just grow silent like this. There’s something in the way that she flinches at his words this time however that really and truly makes him feel like the scum of the earth–a feeling he has ever only associated with Marcus and the look on his face when he’s disappointed about Rio missing something important. 

He’s certainly used to sitting with the feeling, but what he’s not used to is the counter argument he expected to get in return but doesn’t seem to be getting. There’s no snappy comeback, or smartass remark, or now-it-all sass he’s used to getting from her and that’s...that’s an added blow. That makes him feel especially low. 

Beth has been obsessing over shopping for the kids a lot lately. So much so that she’s become distracted. She almost cost them a deal just the other day by excusing herself every five minutes to check her bid on some ridiculously expensive, extremely rare collectible for Kenny. 

The kid moved out of his mother’s house completely, has decided to live with his dad save for weekend visits, and even those have become sporadic. In turn, Elizabeth’s decided to shower him with gifts that do nothing except drain her bank account, which is what Rio says to her when the fight about the meeting is in full swing. 

“Why does it matter!” She snaps, face glued to her laptop. “It’s my money, so don’t you worry about it.” 

It’s been a long day. It’s been a long day and he should have walked away, but–it’s been a LONG DAY, and he is running out of patience, so as he loads the dishwasher, his back to her still, he opens his mouth and lets the words slip before he can filter them. 

“Yeah, well, buying him crap he’s going to forget about in two months isn’t going to make him magically hate you less.” 

The silence is not just deafening exactly, but painful. He looks up, ready to receive whatever she is going to dish out, but it never comes. She continues to stare at the computer screen, clicking idly, swallowing audibly, her eyes welling up and just before he can say anything to save the situation, she’s gotten up and quietly excused herself. Seconds later, the door to the bedroom slams shut, and that is how Rio’s found himself knocking, locked out for the first time in--well, ever. 

“Elizabeth,” he starts softly. “I didn’t mean that, come on.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he hears her say. “All he knows is I got his dad shot and then caused a divorce. I’m the reason he has to live in a tiny one-bedroom with a second hand pull out sofa.” 

And well, he doesn’t quite know where to start.

“He’s a teenager! Teenagers are dicks. It’s the natural order of things. He’ll grow out of it, trust me. And if dumbass Dean is half as decent as you keep saying he is, he’ll talk some sense into him.”

There’s silence in return, and he gives her a moment before giving the door another knock. 

“Elizabeth?” 

The door opens a second later and she’s standing there, blotchy and teary eyed, and beautiful. 

“I’m a terrible mother,” she chokes.

“Hey, come on.”

He tugs at her hand, and again when she resists, finally holding her against his chest while she sniffles into his shirt. 

“I just want him to like me again.” 

“I hate to break it to you,” he says, pausing to drop a kiss on her crown, hoping it’ll cushion the blow, “but that might not happen until he goes off to college.” 

She groans before finally pulling back enough to look at him.

“Were you this horrible to your mom as a teenager?”

Rio laughs, “No. If I even thought about talking back I’d be in a world of pain.”

She frowns, and he finds himself tucking her hair back without thinking about it. 

“You’re a good mom.” 

“I guess.”

“You are and you know it. You want to take a bath? I’ll bring you a drink, light some candles.”

She smiles then and he thinks he might be getting her back tonight. 

“Co-baths are for after fights. That wasn’t really a fight.”

“I was thinking you could take one alone, but I like where your head’s at.”

He leans forward and drops a kiss on her neck, nipping her collarbone and getting a throaty laugh that feels like a victory. 

“Okay,” she says before meeting him for a chaste kiss. “Why don’t you start the bath…”

“Okay.”

“But run it slow because this ebay auction ends in twenty minutes and I really think I’m going to get it.” 

“What?” 

“Twenty minutes!” She calls as she runs past him, back to her computer, but now in better spirits, so he relents, making a mental note to give the kid a talk the next time he gets a chance. 

[yourstarvic]

A Month Later

It has been a month since the music convection. You barely remember the face of your savior. All you could remember was that he has black hair and was wearing a white mask. 

I can memorize quotes, names, and useless facts but when it comes to faces, I could never remember them.

“Miss Yukie, can you please tell me the answer," the teacher asked you.

Lazily looking up, you quickly saw the equation. "the answer is y= 3(2x+ 1/4)^2-83/16),” you replied as if it was second nature. Not realizing how quickly you responded, you went back looking at the window. Once the realization hit you, you felt your face starting to heat up as your eyes widen. Looking back to the front of the class, your teacher and classmates all stared at you in shock.

“Ummm, I already learned it from when I was middle school,” you said nervously, hoping no one would question it.

The teacher slowly nodded their head and when back to explaining the problem. Letting out a small sigh you went back looking out of the window.

 That was close... 

After admiring the outside world, you looked down at your notebook, noticing that you barely wrote any notes. Letting out a soft sigh, you grabbed your pencil from your desk, looking back up to the board, trying to pay attention to what the teacher was saying.

Soon after, you heard the bell rang, signaling the end of school. Cleaning up your desk, you put your notebook and pencils into your bag. As you did that, Hitoka walked up to your desk. With a surprised look on her face, she said, “How did you know the answer! You weren’t even paying attention! You barely even looked at the problem! You knew it right away! Are you psychic?”

Rolling your eyes at her jokingly, you got up from your desk. Both of you walking out of the door, “I’m not psychic,” you started with a joking smile, “Actually, I’m a witch.”

“I knew it,” you heard her whisper to herself. Laughing softly, thinking it was a joke, you didn’t realize that she was serious about it. 

Both of you made your way to the girl's locker room, talking about what happened in class and what might happen during practice. Finally, in the locker room, you put your bag into your locker and then grabbing your track pants, jacket, athletic shoes, and a white shirt. Taking off your shoes and your socks, you heard the door opening, seeing Kiyoko walking in.

“Hi, Kiyoko! Ready for practice?” you heard Hitoka said happily. 

Smiling with a teasing tone, you said, “of course she is! She’ll be able to see Tanaka.”

Both you and Hitoka saw the small red blush heating on her cheeks, knowing that she is trying not to make her whole face red. Chuckling at her, both of you thought, “she is so cute!!!”

“I talked to Takeda-Sensei and he and Ukai-San are thinking of working with serves and receives,” Kiyoko said faking a cough in her hands, trying to not seem flustered.

“We don’t have practice tomorrow morning, right?” you questioned as you put on your pants.

 “Yes, we only have is evening practice,” Hitoka said, changing into her shirt.

Nodding your head, you started to change into your shirt as well, as you did so you heard Kiyoko questioned you and Hitoka, “how is tutoring Hinata and Kageyama?”  

“Kageyama is getting better but still has a little more way to go,” Hitoka said thoughtfully, “hows Hinata with English, (y/n)?”

Looking at both of them, you respond with a happy smile, “he is getting better! He just needs to work on his spelling a bit! He will be fine for the exam!”

Kiyoko nods her head, happy that the two trouble first years are getting better with their studies.“Oh yeah, I almost forgot that you speak fluent English (y/n),” Hotoka said, putting a finger on her chin, thinking deeply, “you used to live in New York right?”

A bashful smile made its way to your lips as you replied, “yeah...” you chuckled shyly, “I used to live in New York for a while.”

Seeing Hitoka eyes light up with stars and Kiyoko eyes filled with curiosity, they both asked: where did you live before? Why move here in Miyagi? How was living in New York? But most of the questions were mostly from Hitoka.

With amusement in your voice, you answered, “I lived in London for a bit and some other places as well. I loved living in New York but I wouldn't say it is my favorite. And I moved here because um...” you hesitated, thinking of an answer that won't reveal too much about yourself, “my parent's job?”

Both eyed you in confusion as to why you question your reasoning. But then shrugging it off, thinking nothing of it. 

Wanting to know more, Kiyoko asked, “where do your parents work?”

Trying to think of an occupation, you stuttered out, “um.. y-you know..they w-work as a-an..accountant?” 

That seems like a good job. No one ever questions an accountant. Accountants are boring...Well, I think they are boring...

“Yeah! They are accountant!” you said more confidently, hoping they believed it.

 You quickly closed your locker, giving them a big smile, trying not to seem nervous. Thankful they nodded their heads, not questioning it and finishing getting dressed. 

After you were all dressed, you all started to head towards the gym, but not without getting the towels, filling the water bottles, and getting the practice jerseys. As you three did that, you all talked about anything that came to mind. Finally, walking in the gym, seeing the boys messing around, or already starting to stretch. Before any of you, three could greet them, you heard two boys yell, “Kiyoko! You're here!”

Seeing both Tanaka and Noya jumping towards Kiyoko, you were surprised at how high they could jump.

If only they could jump that high during a game...

Kiyoko quickly moved out of the way, making the two chaotic athletes landing on their face. Kiyoko walked past them as if nothing had happened, Hitoka just walked pasted them with a concerned look on her face, when you went up to them asking if their face was alright. Instead of answering, they got up, holding their hands together, sticking their butt out and swaying it side to side like a tail, with heart eyes, they both said, “I love it when she ignores us.”

Laughing at their enthusiasm, you walked to the bench and helped set up the towels and jerseys. Hearing Ukia walking in, everyone looked at him, waiting for orders. “Today, we are going to practices our serves and receives. Then, we’ll do a little practice match,” he yelled, making sure everyone heard. 

Everyone yelled out in excitement, ready to practice. Except for Hinata who, not only yelled out but jumped with his arms and legs out, hitting Kageyama. 

Yelling out in pain, Kageyama said “Boke Hinata Boke!”

And with that, the practice started.

Waking up to the sound of your alarm, you reach your hand over, lazily trying to turn it off. Sitting up, you used one hand to rub your eye, trying to get the sleepness out. Moving to the side of the bed, making your feet touching the floor, you stretched out your arms, letting out a random noise as you did so. As you were getting out of bed, you turned on the lamp that sat on your night table. 

Walking into your bathroom, you started doing your morning routine. Once you were done, you walked back to your bed and started making it. Finishing, you grabbed your phone, unlocking it, you saw it was 1:14 am. Thinking out loud, you said, “we don’t have to be at school until 4...So...ummm maybe take a shower?” 

Scratching your head, you looked around your room. Your eyes landed on the opening that leads to the bathroom, and right across from it, your walk-in closet. Seeing an empty luggage bag and a duffel, you quickly made your decision, “a warm shower sounds nice.”

After your “quick” shower, you put on a pair of athletic leggings and a random shirt. Looking at your phone, you checked the time, 2:05 am. You eyed your empty luggage. Biting the inside of your cheek, you slowly walked towards your closet. “Might as well start packing,” you said softly.

Finished packing, you doubled checked everything, making sure you have everything. Making sure your morning routine, extra sets of clothes, undergarments are in your suitcase when the small medical stuff for the boys was in the duffel. 

Going back to your nightstand, you grabbed your phone, checking the time once again. “Alright!” you cheerfully said, “it only took me 30 minutes to pack. New Record.”

Unplugging your charger from the socket, you hold onto both the charger and your phone in one hand. Instantly walking towards your desk, you grabbed your notebook and pencil bag. Walking back to your closet entrance, you put the notebook and pencil bag carefully into the duffel bag. 

Swinging the duffel bag over your shoulder, pulling the suitcase behind you as you head out. Turning off the lights in your room and closing the door behind you, headed towards the front of the house. Putting on your shoes, thinking of anything else you missed. With nothing coming into mind, you grab the keys sitting on the table near the front door. Opening the front door, you looked behind you, feeling the dark and empty the penthouse.

“I’m leaving now,” you said halfheartedly, with a sad smile.  

If only there was someone to say, “be safe.”

Masterpost - Prev - Next

Notes: So.... seems like (y/n) is hiding somethin and she’s kinda lonely :( But all will be revealed soon! I hope you guys are liking it so far!! Sorry for the typos and terrible grammer!! If you want to be add to the taglist just click on that link!!! 

Fun Facts:

(Y/n) is considered a genius in the academic world and in the fine arts world. She tones it down, fearing people would ask her to do their homework.

One time a guy was bothering Hitoka and asking for her number. Yamaguchi and Tsukishima saw and quickly saved her.

(y/n) has two older brothers who are twins. She never mentions them because they are the most embarrassing people ever.

To get back at Kageyama, Hinata styled his hair the same as him. There was a lot of gel involved.

Ever since the 3rd grade, (y/n) learned how to live by herself. She spent most of her childhood reading different genres of books, ranging from kid's stories to medical books.

Taglist: @wickedgamesoyaoya @bloody-bella @mangotacoluverz @weebartistinc

[rvmmm21]

[ V V S her diamonds ]

summary : seungwan is an idiot, joohyun is an idiot. cupid rips his hair out in frustration.

small note : please yell at galaxygerbil for me. for putting justin freaking bieber’s ‘anyone’ in my head on loop for centuries and for the hectic mess that i am when i read their fics. this is an attempt the only genre i have been skirting around because i just cannot read/write angst. if this ages decently, yay.

p.s. characters are from my first wenrene university au (you know who i am?) so it’s identical in regards to characters and the au itself, but a different plot. 

tw : slight angst (but it’s all cupid’s), perpetual urge to scream.

[senior!irene x junior!wendy]

. . .

[5:15p.m.] Seungwan rushes past the temptation of bookshops, restaurants and arcades. She silently curses when she very nearly falls flat on her face from an uneven bit of pavement.

. . .

“Seungwan-ah!” Yerim calls out, retracting her debit card from the exasperated cashier and waving Seungwan towards her. “Come, hurry up and order something.”

The blonde shyly weaves through the crowded little arcade cafe, eliciting pointed looks and grunts from hungry patrons. She leaves the ‘I-dare-you-to-challenge-my-best-friend-right-now’ stare to Yerim. 

Seungwan reaches the counter with a huff. “What are you guys getting?” 

“I got bibimmyeon.” The younger glances over her shoulder at Seulgi who’s scrolling through her phone at the table in the corner. “Uh, i think Seul got pork mandu.”

Seungwan holds up two fingers and a polite smile. “Two bibimmyeon, please.”

The cashier inputs their orders with a click of a button, swiping Yerim’s card through the reader.

The duo shuffle away with a number card on a metal stand, heading for the table under the stairs. A harassed Seulgi barely notices her friends sitting down.

“You’re here?” She clicks her phone off and begins rummaging through her Muji pencil case for a pencil. “What did you get? I think we’re pulling an all-nighter.”

“Bibimmyeon, same as Yerimie.” Seungwan grimaces, more at the possibility of another sleepless night. But such is university life. Plus, she’d much rather her friends keep her accountable than procrastinate alone. Especially on projects that weighed so heavily on her final grade.

Yerim elbows Seungwan, who suddenly notices she’s the last to get her materials out.

Like clockwork, the three get to work, the clicking of their keyboards overtaken by frantic plastic clicking of various 90’s arcade machines.

Thankfully, food is served right as they’re wrapping up chapter three, the worst one of them all. Seungwan, Seulgi and Yerim scarf down their food like girls ten years starved, focused on feeding the demands of their stomachs rather than their assignments.

. . .

The sun retires past the blue-purple horizon, leaving three burnt out students standing outside a closed cafe, clutching laptops and notebooks in the dark. They hastily make plans again for next week’s study date, sweeping the forgotten all-nighter under the rug, all too eager to head home and shut the door in the faces of their due dates and exams.

“Same time next week?” Seungwan asks after a yawn.

Seulgi shakes her head, squinting at her calendar app. “I have dance tryouts then. Can we do Thursday instead? We can meet at the same time then, or even earlier.”

Yerim agrees to everything, seconds away from falling asleep on her feet. 

“Alright,” the blonde sighs, plugging the aux cable into her phone and flipping through her Spotify. “See you guys then. Yerimie bring your own highlighter next time.”

Everyone mumbles, turning their own ways.

. . .

“YAH!”

The rude exclamation of a tall, red-faced boy while his smaller friend stands meekly behind him blares attention bells to the furthest corner of their university cafeteria.

Seungwan pauses mid-chew to shush a pouting Yerim, who’s upset that her funny dog story was interrupted right as it was getting good. They face the commotion and Seungwan beholds a pair of steely eyes gazing boredly from underneath the brim of a black Yankee baseball cap.

That signature glare belongs to none other than Bae Joohyun, someone the junior recognises instantly from (truthfully much more than) one of their shared literature electives. And of course, beside her stands her equally as intimidating friends, Park Sooyoung and Kim Jennie. 

And the hothead is the only person who’d be stupid enough to challenge a trio like that: fresh campus casanova, Wong Lucas. Seungwan’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, but she isn’t surprised.

Everyone’s attention has been commanded now, but if the boy cared, he didn’t show it.

“Yah, freshman.” Jennie snaps, gripping her mocha latte and stepping to the front while Sooyoung suspiciously eyes him and his friend. “Speak with some respect. What’s wrong with you! We’re your seniors.”

The meek girl behind him looks terrified, curly mousy-brown ponytails shadowing the cold sweat visibly beading on her forehead. She almost moves to say something but Lucas stops her with a firm hand, turning back to continue berating the girl in the cap.

“You couldn’t even let her talk?!” The irony is lost on him, as a frown settles on his arched eyebrows, frustration frosting over his features. “She told me you rejected her before she could finish. Did you have to speak so rudely? Do you know how hard it is to confess?”

A hint of apprehension creeps into Sooyoung’s expression and Jennie fights the urge to splash her drink right in his face. Followed by the cup.

Bae Joohyun simply resists a yawn.

“Can you move? We’re busy.” 

It’s the first time she’s spoken since the outburst, and Seungwan feels her palms sweat.

The girl behind Lucas finally speaks. Her eyes are glossy and wide, overflowing with hurt and betrayal. “It’s okay, s-sunbae. B-but I… I was hoping we could still–”

“I’m not interested,” comes the cut and dry reply.

A bystander innocently tries to diffuse the rising tension. He lightly places his hand on the boy’s shoulder, darting his gaze between the two teams. “Alright I think that’s enough.” He turns to Lucas. “No need to be so hostile, be a gentleman and apologise.”

“Whatever.” Lucas irritatedly shrugs him off, piercing stare fixed on the senior who couldn’t look more disinterested. “You deserve it. You think you can just talk however you want just because you’re pretty? Self-centred trash, fix your attitude first.”

Sooyoung’s jaw drops, Jennie goes wide-eyed, and Yerim is fumbling around with the record button as quietly as she can. 

Seungwan’s heart quickens in pace.

Joohyun doesn’t even realise she’s lunging forward.

. . .

The cafeteria disperses with hushed whispers and repeated glances over shoulders until it’s just Seungwan, Seulgi and Yerim left. They’re glued to their seats, astounded at the sight of Wong Lucas on the ground, clutching his nose in pain while Song Yuqi stands frozen to the spot, paled in horror at witnessing her crush just sock her older brother square in the face.

It’s so silent save for the moaning and groaning from the floor.

“Did you see that?” Seungwan murmurs back at her friends, unaware that her eyes glint with obvious admiration. “That was kinda cool.”

Seulgi’s lip quirks in disbelief. “It’s definitely broken. Look at her, she’s insane.”

“Right?” Yerim snickers, already posting the video clip to their group chat. “Insanely co-ordinated. Best thing that’s happened all day.” 

“I’m gonna offer her a Band-Aid,” Seungwan spontaneously decides, ignorant to the horror plastered on both her friends’ faces.

Yerim makes tiny, urgent neck slice motions while Seulgi quickly yanks an eager Seungwan down hard by the sleeve.

“Ow, Seul!” The blonde mouths, brows furrowing in annoyance. 

The dancer takes the opportunity to knock some sense into her. “Seriously, are you crazy?” she whispers harshly, her own nerves flaring at the thought of being overheard. “It’s an insult! She’s going to kill you.”

Both girls try to stop their friend from making the dumbest decision of her life, but Seungwan frees herself from their frantically grasping limbs, slinging her bag over her shoulder and heading to the crime scene.

She reaches just in time to feel Lucas brush angrily past them and out the doors. Yuqi slinks after him, casting Joohyun an apologetic look. 

Way to get rejected twice, Seungwan sympathises. Poor kid, with a sibling who’s an idiot Hercules. 

It takes all her willpower to wrestle her racing heartbeat and her self-preservation instinct into submission. The junior approaches with care, trying with everything she has to convey that she comes in peace.

Joohyun shifts her focus to her and Seungwan’s legs almost go jelly, but something about Joohyun draws her in like a spell. She hated playing good samaritan in situations like these, but it isn’t as though Seungwan hasn’t been dying to talk to her impossibly attractive senior since the first day of class.

You miss any chance you don’t take, right? Yes, obviously.

“H-hi sunbaes,” Seungwan greets with a cautious bow. This is the closest she’s been to the black velvet trio and it’s certainly leaving an impression. She doesn’t even have to look back to know that her block-head friends are gawping at the scene, wondering how their loser of a friend is so okay with dying at the age of twenty two.

Blinking, Seungwan washes her thoughts of how dazzling Joohyun looks, even when she looks like she’s out for blood. Especially when she looks like she’s out for blood.

Suddenly remembering the other reason she came over here, the small blonde holds out some alcohol wipes and Band-Aids like gifts. “Are you h– are you okay?”

“Of course I am,” Joohyun responds curtly. She surely knows her icy stare crumples Seungwan’s insides like butter paper. Perhaps that’s why she does it. “It’s over.”

“A-are you sure your fist knows?” The junior tries, all too aware the girl in front of her could have her wiped off the face of the earth with the snap of her fingers.

A scowl ghosts across Joohyun’s face before she drops her eyes to where her fist is still clenched and trembling slightly.

Seungwan fills the silence with an awkward chuckle. “Just thought you might want to clean up after the battle.”

Jennie and Sooyoung’s unimpressed looks are replaced with shock when Joohyun actually accepts a wet wipe from the younger’s shaking hands. Her eyes are pinned to the wipe as it glazes over bruised, rosy knuckles.

The shorter girl internally swoons. Her mere offering has been received! – and not just received regularly, but received with a frosty ‘thank you’, to top it all off. 

As the three seniors are leaving, Seungwan secretly prays that Yerim used her brains and recorded this moment too.

She flinches out of her thought bubble when Seulgi lands a palm clumsily on her shoulder.

“Wah, daebak,” the Cadbury-haired dancer congratulates her crazy, bodacious friend. “So what was that, like your first date or something?”

Yerim scoffs, hooking her arm around Seulgi’s bicep and dragging her out. “Come on Seul, we might as well start eating bugs and singing ‘Can You Feel The Love Tonight’. Wannie unnie can’t see us anymore.”

Seungwan rushes after her best friends, picking up her pace when they break into a power walk to the bus station.

“Yerm-ah! Did you get that? Please tell me you got that!”

[evilzoldyck]

Break the Internet

On slow days like these where assignments were not yet assigned, Shalnark found an effortless way to make use of his time to save himself from unbearable boredom. Surprisingly, looking up valuable and sensitive information of strangers turned out to be more entertaining than he thought. Shalnark could scroll through endless facts without noticing how swiftly the minutes turned into hours. 

Who knew the mayor of Yorknew City had accumulated an obsessive amount of photos hidden in his secret folder on his work computer dedicated to indulge his foot fetish. A plethora of renowned figure he vaguely recognises seemed to have the same tastes, it was also no surprise that these people had paid for sex more than once according to their transaction history. There were a myriad of amusing information he could use to keep himself busy, it was like reading an open book to someone’s inmost secrets, history and relations. 

Though after scrolling through profile after profile, Shalnark couldn’t help but go back to yours. In contrast to many others, you lead an admirable life. An exemplar samaritan from your volunteering efforts, an upstanding citizen contributing to society and a diligent student all the way from middle school to university. This eventually landed you a job as a developmental disability nurse, working with children who were less fortunate and needed assistance. 

How cute.

Though no one could hide and cover their secrets with a good track of records, and unfortunately for you, Shalnark knew your yours. Upon foraging your profile for any information he could acquire, he’d stumble upon the history of your recorded texts shared with your current boyfriend. His eyes widened at the ludicrous amount of contents exchanged consistently back and forth in such a short amount of time. 

However, Shalnark was ecstatic to know that you were a little bit of a freak. 

Numerous pictures and videos of nudes and explicit candid activities shared trustingly with each other. He must admit, your pretty and innocent appearance assisted you to create the perfect facade that threw him off guard. Therefore he would never took you for someone who’d enjoy sexting so much. 

Shalnark clicked on a recent video which instantaneously showed a video cut of your body sprawled on the soft sheets, presumably showing off your lingerie as you slyly pushed your chest forward to show off how the delicate laces hugged your curves and slowly trailed your finger down but never letting the camera falter to follow after it. 

Shalnark seemed to be enjoying it more than he thought, in just a matter of hours he had went through every video you recorded and sent. He couldn’t lie that your actions turned him on, he was left to imagine just how soft your skin would actually be like in real life and how sweet your soft mewls would sound right next to his ear as he fucked you right. 

Though the boyfriend was a problem. Upon further examination, there was a reason to why there was so much lewd content between you and him over texts. Your current partner, Yoji, was working out of town for a huge business project that took months to settle. In the meantime, you both decided to fill the intimacy void obstructed by the physical distance through online social network means. 

As expected, Shalnark wasn’t as intrigued or impressed in comparison to yours upon studying Yoji’s profile. Just an ordinary businessman with a slight dirty records of using tricks such as feigning business formalities and paperworks to launder money. A common plebeian among the sea of crowds, he could never understand how someone like you could be with someone as dull as him.

Though this mini mission of his that he assigned himself should be fairly easy. 

A simple tune emitted from the computer caught your attention from your book you were currently reading to reveal that it was a notification for a video chat from Yoji. Smiling in anticipation you accepted wholeheartedly after making sure to fix yourself up quickly. 

The screen lit up to display the familiar smile and face of your boyfriend. You felt your heart flutter at the sight of him, the distance had taken a toll on your heart and you were eternally grateful that he had even the vestige of time to spare for the both of you every night despite knowing the stress and burden he has from the project. 

“Hey cutie, how was your shift?” He asked, softly smiling from the dark hotel room with the computer screen as the only source of light that slightly made his face visible for you. 

“Tiring as usual but worthwhile,” you replied casually, resting your chin with either of your hand. “How’s the contract coming up? Are things finally wrapping up there?” 

He let out a small sigh before responding back, “it’s getting there.” Immediately you felt guilty, you could see his bloodshot eyes and darkened bags that’s no doubt caused by the accumulated work he’s been facing. “Though can you do me a favour, baby?” 

Perking up immediately you’d gladly do anything to help relieve the slightest bit of tension from your boyfriend. “Anything,” You obediently affirmed as he chuckled a little at your enthusiasm.

“Can you get on the bed,” he instructed slowly. “And fuck yourself for me?” 

His words instantly brought your blood to rush into your cheek, it certainly wasn’t the first time you both did it over FaceTime but it still was an experience you couldn’t get used to without being a little shy. Perhaps the reason behind your apprehension was that because it was a live feed in comparison to the videos and pictures that you carefully rehearse, you were slightly nervous in putting only the best show for him. Nevertheless, you did as he said and made yourself comfortable on the bed while folding your legs to sit on top of them. 

Shalnark smiled pleasingly from the next room over from your boyfriend’s at how willing and compliant you were, though having to masquerade as him was not ideal, he figured he’d have fun and take advantage of the situation before he discarded his toy. 

“Take off your top and let me see you play with your tits,” he muttered as he instructed the order on his phone that currently controlled Yoji’s slowly decaying dead body. 

“Okay,” You tender and shy voice came through from a secondary laptop screen which allowed Shalnark to enjoy the show from the comfort of his own private hotel room and away from detecting any suspicions from you. 

True to your words, you took off your comfortable sweater from the front that revealed your full bare breasts on display for him. Biting your lip, you took both of your hands to your chests slowly, you made sure to send sultry gazes towards him, hoping he was a turned on as much as you were. 

Gently, you began to palm your chest as your tits pebbled from the touch, stimulating warmth that bloomed from the pits of your stomach. Yoji seemed to be enjoying the view as he stared intently at the screen. That gave you a boost of encouragement as you continued to play with yourself, pinching and softly tugging on your nipples which made you whimper and roll your head back.

Shalnark languidly laid back on his chair and began to rub his dick through his shorts, eyes never leaving your form as they caress your breasts prettily. You really did know how to put on a show for him. 

“Take off your shorts and panties.” He ordered once more. With little reluctance from your end, they were discarded within a moment, leaving you completely vulnerable for his viewing pleasure. “Spread your legs and play with yourself.” 

Feeling yourself get even wetter by his demanding decree, you spread your thighs to allow him to look at your glistening pussy. You loved entertaining with the idea of subjecting yourself to him, knowing he loved it when you do as he says, even though he didn’t completely have control over you.

Reaching down to collect the copious amount of slick fluid leaking from your cunt, you trailed it along your slit before rubbing soft circles around your clit making you jolt in pleasure. You felt your hardened little nub making contact with your delicate touches as it easily slipped from your lubricant. 

“That’s great, honey,” he breathed out. “But spread it a bit more.”

“Like this?” You asked meekly, one hand behind your back to support yourself from falling down as you spread your thighs more open. 

Shalnark’s dick was already out by this point from the confinement of his trousers as he stroked it painfully slow as to match your pace. His eyes couldn’t bear to leave the screen as you displayed your pretty cunt so openly to him, teasing it with your tiny fingers making him want to reach through the screen and show you how much better his would feel. With one hand still gripping onto his device, he typed in another order.

“Yeah, now put a finger in.” 

Panting slightly, you reached down and slowly entered a single digit, letting your cunt to squeeze around your finger as you moaned at the intrusion. 

“Y-Yoji! Ahh...” your head lolled back when your walls closed in on you, making you rub on a very special spot that sent your senses flying. In haste, you added another finger in as you continued to play with yourself and you noticed Yoji’s eyes never faltered from the screen, watching you slip your fingers in and out.

“Does it feel good, baby?” You nodded lightly at his words. “Can you rub your pussy faster for me? I want to see you fuck yourself harder...” 

“Mmh!...” you cried as you sped up your fingers. It felt so surreal, you could feel yourself almost touching the stars at this point. Your eyes were hazed in the image of your boyfriend as your mind were only clouded by carnal desires. You’ve never felt so good every time you did this with him, it made you all the more excited to see him in the next upcoming week for when he gets back. 

Feeling your walls clenching onto your fingers, you knew you were near your end soon. “I-I’m getting close...” you whined out, “I’m going to cum, Yoji!” 

“Stop.” 

You let out a dumb, “huh?” in response. He would seldom stop you just before you reached your peak so this was a slight surprise.

“Reach into the drawer for your dildo, I know that’s where you keep them.” Blushing profusely, you nevertheless acquiesced and promptly took the small pink toy in your hand. “Now fuck and play with it.”

You glared at him through the screen but that front shattered as you felt the head enter into your warm, plush cunt. At this point you’ve nearly turned yourself inside out. “Y-yoji! Ohh...” you moaned at the snug fit as you got it all the way inside, arching your back in pleasure as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“Feels nice doesn’t it, babe?” Too high off of pleasure you hummed blissfully in return. 

Grabbing the base you continued the pace you were with your fingers, no longer having any patience to draw out your orgasm any longer. The room was filled with your wanton moans and debauched sighs as well as the promiscuous sounds of your slick with the toy no doubt coming through to the audio. 

“I’m so c-close!” You managed to whimper out. “Let me cum Yoji- please! Let me cum!”

“Say the magic words.”

“F-fuck! Ahh...” sweat beads ran down the back of your spine at this point. “I love you! I wish you were h-here... fucking me instead- god! I miss you so much, I think a-about you every day, I want you here with me always!” 

“Good.”

With his word, you felt your hot, soft walls closing hard around the pink toy and squirt out a gratuitous amount of fluids, coating your thighs and sheets with it. Your mind was blank as you felt yourself so stimulated that you worry your body could couldn’t handle this much force. Gripping the sheets tightly through your orgasm, you cried out in pleasure as you fell backwards with your toes and back curled naturally. 

Shalnark’s hands were now already coated with his thick cum, smiling exuberantly at your fun and cute little adventure. Well, now he guess was the time to pull down the curtains and reveal himself. After all, his puppet broke, he has no use for him anymore. 

Panting out to catch your breath, you laid on the side to face the screen and smiled tiredly. 

“How was I?” You asked sheepishly. Yoji’s face turned blank for a moment before dropping his head down to the keyboard harshly. 

“Yoji?!” You cried out in desperation and fear as you sat up in shock. What on earth just happened? You saw a little sword like needle pinned itself on the back of his head and before you could make sense of it the screen went black before revealing a jubilant young man with a smile seemingly etched onto youthful face.

“That was more than amazing!” He joyfully cheered. 

Quickly you grabbed a hold of your blanket to make yourself somewhat decent in front of this strange pervert. 

“Aww,” he whined at the lack of skin that you covered. “Why are you suddenly acting shy on me now?” Pouting in indignation as if you suddenly took away a toy he was playing with. 

“Who are you? What did you do to Yoji?” You’ve no doubt this man was behind it all. 

He sighed out your name nonchalantly and replied exasperatedly, “he’s already dead so I wouldn’t get too worried about it, I’ll just take over his position.” He giggled boyishly. “How about it? You seem like your in need of a new boyfriend since your last one is... you know...” he cringed and pretended to slice his head with own his hand. 

“You’re crazy if you don’t think I’m not going to report you!” Crying in defiance as you felt tears starting to fill your eyes.

“But then it’d be a shame if your private home movie went viral,” He grimly implied as the screen changed into you fucking yourself silly on the bed. Somehow this creep had managed to record every single second of your lewd activity. You gasped horrifyingly, feeling the said tears now dropping into your hot cheeks. 

“What would your family think? Your colleagues? Your bosses? Don’t you work with children?” He placed a finger on his chin pretending to think hard. “I’d imagine it to be quite hard to find a job if something like this went pub-“

“Just stop,” you sobbed out pathetically as you turned to face him through the screen. “What do you want?”

“Meet me at your favourite cafe tomorrow at noon.” Smiling innocently despite the tenebrous tension between the two of you.  When you didn’t say anything, too defeated and scared to utter out a word, he took your silence as a tacit comply as his smile seemingly began to widened.

“Great, it’s a date!”

[superbadassnatural]

Always Love

Summary: Sam and Y/N have been best friends since day one. They both hid secrets from each other. One night, after Y/N’s life gets in danger, both of them let it all out. Square filled: Friends to lovers Pairing: Sam x Reader Word count: 2,160 Warnings: show level of violence, fluff, kidnap  A/N: this was written for @spntfwbingo​. Please enjoy it!

(x)

“Never thought I’d be thankful for a crappy motel shower,” you sighed as you walked out of the bathroom.

“Yeah, me neither,” Sam said, his eyes glued on his laptop.

“Any lead on what we are dealing with?” you asked, plopping into bed, but soon regretted it because the mattress wasn’t as soft as you expected.

“I think it might be a vengeful spirit, but I’m not sure,” he wrinkled his nose. “I mean, there’s a pattern. They were all women, late twenties. All of them had a criminal record. But I don’t get how this thing is moving around. They were all last seen in different spots and they died in their apartments.”

“Maybe this thing moves around a certain area,” you yawned, getting under the covers. “We can map that out tomorrow. We are too tired now. Dean can barely open his eyes. You are tired too, Sammy. Get your ass over here.”

“You’re right we had a long day,” he unplugged his laptop and turned off the lights. The only thing illuminating the room was your bedside lamp.

Sam laid next to you. A sigh leaving his lips as his body relaxed on the mattress.

“You two,” Dean called from his bed. “No crazy late-night conversations. And turn that thing off,” he grunted.

“Night, Dean,” a chuckle left your lips. You turned to Sam who was laying on his back. His gorgeous eyes were closed, but he wasn’t asleep. You turned off the bedside lamp. “We should have a girls’ night one day.”

“I thought we already did that,” Sam frowned, turning to you.

“We have dudes’ nights,” you said. “We should have a girls’ night once we’re back in the bunker. We can watch some chick flicks with lots of popcorn and chocolate. You would let me braid your hair. Then we’d do some skincare together. It would be fun. Do you think Dean would join us?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Dean nearly. “Now shut up and go to sleep.”

“Oh, Deano, you’re so grumpy,” you teased.

A comfortable silence fell between you. All of a sudden you weren’t that tired anymore. Sam on the other hand was nearly asleep.

“Sam?”

“Hmm,” he hummed.

“Do you know what I’m gonna buy for you and Dean?”

“What?” he opened his eyes.

“Matching pjs. A saw these cute brothers matching pajamas and I think you two would look adorable.”

“You do know those are for kids, right?” he chuckled.

“Yeah, but there’s gotta be for adults too,” you shrugged. “Then, I’m gonna get us besties matching pjs. One of the t-shirts has a pizza that’s missing a slice and the other t-shirt has the slice. We would look great in that.”

“How many matching pjs am I gonna get?”

“Lots of them,” you chuckled. “We should have a skincare routine. Your skin would glow, Sammy. Also, we should comb our hair,” you extolled.

“I think we should go to sleep,” he muttered as he tried his best to keep his eyes open.

“Fine,” you mumbled with a pout.

“Good night, Y//N/N,” he smiled, shifting in his place. His back was now to you.

“Good night, Sammy,” you laid on your stomach. A silence fell in the room. Every now and then you’d hear Dean’s soft snores. “Sam?”

“What?” he nearly snarled.

“Do you think aliens exist?”

“Night, Y/N,” he grumbled.

“Don’t hog all the blankets,” you warned.

You have known the Winchesters for nearly four years now. One day you had crossed paths whilst hunting a wendigo and you just clicked. After joining them in a few cases, they took you in and welcomed you in the bunker. You became a family. You and Dean were always bickering and making fun of each other. He was the big brother you didn’t know you needed. He was really protective of you.

When it comes to Sam, things are a bit different. You and he had many things in common. Both of you had to drop out of college because you had work to do. Both of you had your first lover taken away by something you were hunting. Sam was as geeky as you were. You enjoyed spending time in the bunker reading lore. As the years went by, you grew closer to him. You were best friends. Only to you, he meant something more. Sam was your safe haven. When you felt down, you’d run to him. Sam was the kind of guy you could see yourself building a future with. He was everything you’ve ever wanted. He was kind and sweet and caring. You and he had dudes’ night every now and then — girls’ night too but they weren’t that often. He’d let you apply a face mask on his skin just because it made you happy. He’d hold you anytime you felt down. He’d buy you chocolate every time he went grocery shopping. He’d bring a heating pad to you when you could barely leave your bed because you had cramps. He was always taking care of you. It was hard not to love him.

Hunting only made everything more difficult. If you allowed yourself to develop those kinds of feelings for him, it would only make it worse. You’ve always feared for his life every time you went on a hunt, but if you allow yourself to love him as your significant other, it’d only make you fear more. Besides, Sam didn’t feel the same, right? He saw you as his best friend. As his little sister. He’d never see you as something more than that.

“We can go out and ask some questions,” you heard Sam’s voice as you slowly began to wake up. “She can sleep for a little longer.”

You kept your eyes closed. The idea of getting a few more hours of sleep was really appealing.

“Y/N/N?” you felt the bed dipped beside you. His warm hand resting on your shoulder.

“Hmmm,” you hummed.

“We’re going out to ask some questions. You can stay and sleep for a little longer, okay?” you nodded. “If you need anything, call me,” he pressed a kiss to your temple, before heading out of the motel room with his brother.

————

“Y/N, we’re back,” Sam called, entering the empty room. He frowned at your absence. “I brought you some chocolate. Your favorites,” still no sign of you.

He motioned for Dean to take a look around the room as he dropped the paper bag on the table. They didn’t find you. At first, they thought you were hiding just so you could take them off guard and scare them. As they didn’t find any sign of you, they started to get worried.

“Here,” Sam said as he picked the note with your handwriting. “Went out for breakfast. Be back in a few. Y/N,” he read.

“She should be here by now,” Dean checked his watch. “It’s almost noon. She should have been back already. Something is up, Sammy.”

Sam checked his phone for any missed calls or messages, but there were none.

The hours passed and the brothers only grew more worried. They tracked down your phone and it led to the diner you went to get breakfast. Sam wouldn’t stop pacing around the room and he was almost pulling his hair out. If he kept on biting his nails, he wouldn’t have any by the time he finds you. Dean prayed to Castiel. The angel appeared in the room and promised to search for you.

“I think I know where she might be,” Castiel said as he loomed into the room later that day. “There’s a warehouse about twenty minutes from here. I can’t go in. There are too many sigils. I think a demon has her.”

“Okay, can you get us —“

Before Sam could complete his sentence, Castiel had zapped them to the front of the warehouse.

“I’ll just wait here,” said Castiel.

A slam was heard as Sam kicked the door open. Both brothers entered the warehouse with their guns in hands. A door down the hall called their attention. At the count of three, Sam once again kicked the door open.

The demon had you tied up to a chair. Your head hung low and you were unconscious. Small bruises scattered around your arms and your torso. Your jeans were ripped, exposing your grazed knees.

Sam was consumed by sheer anger once he saw what the demon had done to you. He shot the woman. The devil’s trap bullet hitting her left shoulder. Just as he picked his demon knife, he’s brother stopped him.

“I got this,” Dean assured him, his hand holding an angel blade. “Get her outta here.”

Sam nodded, walking towards you. His hands fumbling to loosen the ropes around your ankles and wrists. He scooped you up in his arms. Your head resting against his firm chest. Sam walked out of the house as fast as he could.

Castiel spotted the youngest hunter with you unconscious in his arms. Sam’s wide eyes stared back at him. Fear was written all over his face.

“Here. Let me,” the angel pressed two fingers on your forehead.

The bruises on your body healed instantly and your heartbeat grew stronger. Relief washed through Sam’s body once your eyes started fluttering open.

“Sam?” your voice was hoarse.

“Hey,” he smiled before placing you on the ground. “How are you feeling?” his firm hand rested on your waist and the other cupped your cheek.

“Like I was kidnapped by a demon,” you chuckled. “I need to sit down,” as he helped you sit on the doorstep, Dean walked out of the house.

“Hey you,” he beamed. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Thanks for coming after me. Both of you.”

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he winked, heading towards Castiel.

“You saved me. Again,” you sighed.

“I did,” a blush crept up Sam’s cheeks. “What can I say? You just keep getting yourself in danger.”

“Oh, shut up,” you smacked his arm. Both of you erupting into laughter.

From afar, Dean stared at you and his little brother.

“You see that?” he nudged Castiel’s shoulder. “See the way they are looking at each other? It’s working just as planned,” he smirked.

“Did you plan on getting Y/N kidnapped?” Castiel stared at him, his eyebrows furrowed.

“No, of course not,” Dean nearly exclaimed. “I’ve been waiting for so long for them to finally get their heads out of their own asses and I think it’s happening.”

“Sam?” you called him, suddenly finding the rips on your jeans more interested than his face. “You’re my best friend, you know that right?”

You wanted to tell him you loved him. You wanted to kiss the living hell out of him, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t ruin your friendship with Sam. Telling him what you really feel wasn’t worth losing him.

“No,” he shook his head. “We’re not just friends and you know it.”

“Sam-“

“Y/N, don’t,” he stopped you. “The past eight hours without knowing where you were or if you were okay drove me crazy. I couldn’t stop blaming myself for leaving you alone. I can’t bear the thought of losing you. I can’t.”

“Don’t,” your eyes welled with tears.

“Don’t what?” he asked. His voice raised about an octave. “You don’t want me to tell you that I love you? That I’ve been in love with my best friend since day one? What are you so afraid of, Y/N?”

“You,” you blurted. “I’m afraid of you. I’m afraid of letting myself fall completely in love with you. Once I allow myself to do that, there’s no going back and I can’t lose you. I won’t be able to live with myself if I lose you.”

“You’re not gonna lose me,” he assured you. His calloused hands cupped your cheeks, his thumb wiping away your tears.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know you got my back. Just like I got yours,” he smiled.

“I love you,” the three words you’d buried deep inside finally left your lips.

He captured your lips with his. He was soft against you. Your heart skipped several beats as you melted into his touch. His thumb caressed your cheek as your breaths mingled. His tongue pressed against the seam of your lips. You parted them, granting him access. The kiss became more demanding the more you explored each other.

Once air became needed, you parted. Foreheads pressed against each other. Your lips curled into a smile.

“I love you, too,” he said through panted breaths.

“Yes!” yours and Sam’s heads snapped in Dean’s direction as he fist-bumped into the air. A chuckle escaped your lips. “I knew it.”

Sam’s eyes were fixed on you, taking in every last detail of your face.

“Y/N,” you hummed, staring back into his hazel eyes. “You don’t have to be afraid. Not anymore.”

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