#which is what i’m vowing to stop doing by starting all these towns

[ducktracy]

compilation of my villagers bullying me. this will be a growing collection. these are all from today alone.

[destielnoirbang]

Who Framed Sam Winchester?

By queerwerewolf | @queerwolf79 Art by anyrei | @anyreiart

Coming to Ao3 on 12/27/2024

Rated Explicit | 29,180 words | No Archive Warnings Apply

Down-on-his-luck private eye Cas Novak gets hired by Angelic Studios president, Nick Vaught, to investigate a scandal involving an infamous literary character (Lit), Dean Winchester, and Vaught’s primary nemesis, Fergus Crowley. A devilish producer and prop designer who has his hands in every movie studio in Los Angeles. Crowley’s prop factory shares a wall with Lit Town, and worse yet, he owns the contract for every Lit. Every contract, that is, except for brothers Sam and Dean Winchester from the Supernatural book series. When Crowley is found murdered, Sam Winchester becomes the primary suspect and goes on the run. The villainous Judge Edlund vows to catch and destroy Sam, having discovered a means of killing Lits with a substance known only as “Pulp”. Desperate to prove his brother’s innocence, Dean demands Cas help him find his brother before the Judge does. Despite vowing to never work with another Lit after his twin brother's murder, Cas agrees. With a contentious start to their working relationship, Dean Winchester and Cas Novak begin to uncover an ever growing nefarious plot. Can Cas and Dean put a stop to this evil ploy? And more importantly, will their attraction to each other get in the way of saving the day?

[Keep reading for a sneak preview!]

“Cigars? Cigarettes?”

When I turned, it was to come face to face with Dorian Gray. Unsurprisingly, he hadn’t aged a day in about a decade or so. Now whether that was because he was a Lit, or that damned portrait… His cobalt blue eyes rivaled my own, although, if I’m honest, his were always prettier. His curly blonde hair was coifed in a pompadour and his scarlet lips were curled in a hungry smile. He was dressed in a form-fitting pair of charcoal pants and an even tighter black t-shirt that left little to the queer imagination, carrying a tray of different smokes.

“Dorian, what are you doing here?”

With a wistful, overly dramatic sigh, Dorian pouted his plush lips and said, “Work’s been slow for those of us with a little more… culture.” Which meant with how many contemporary novels were capturing the attention of audiences, any Lits from the 19th century or earlier had to get creative to make a living. This suited Dorian, considering his nature. “But I’m still exquisitely tragic.”

With a soft laugh, I nodded, reveling in his beauty for a moment, although I was far too old for him now. “Yeah, you are.”

The lights started to dim and a spotlight shined on the closed curtains. I caught Crowley in my peripheral vision, straightening his tie and sitting upright. He even pulled out a small bottle of cologne, spraying it against his neck. It reeked of licorice and cloves, the breath of a child that got into his father’s cigarette case.

I turned to Dorian with a bemused expression. “What’s with him?”

Dorian smoothed out a nonexistent wrinkle on his pants with a shrug. “Oh, Mr. Crowley never misses a night when Dean performs.”

“Got a thing for Lits, huh?”

At that, Dorian gave me a pointed look. “If I recall, you did as well at one point.”

I cleared my throat and grabbed my drink, gulping down half of it at the implication, feeling a warmth at the memories that comment conjured. The crowd grew silent and the band could be heard from the pit, warming up their instruments. Then a familiar intro began, an infamously upbeat Cole Porter song that had been slowed down from a jazzy little jaunt to something sedated, steady, and sentimental. Just as a soft beat began, the curtains jostled and a leg popped out, bent at the knee in skin tight purple pants.

“We’re all alone… No chaperone… Can get our number… the world’s in slumber… ” A sultry, deep voice sang in a pleasant register, masterfully turning jazz to a ballad. The curtains parted and revealed one of the most breathtaking creatures I had ever seen in my life.

“Let’s misbehave…”

[a-romantics-guide-to-life]

⋆⟡˚ ཐི⋆♱ 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 ♱⋆ཋྀ ˚⟡⋆

𝐩𝐚��𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: billy the kid x fem witch reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re the towns witch but everyone thinks your evil and vile, billy believes every word they say until he actually meets you; aka halloween is your time of year and billy is all for it

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: fluff, implied sex, hate, witch!reader, outlaw billy, halloween but its the wild west and they have witches (Ooooo)

𝐚/𝐧: heres my lil take on witch reader and outlaw billy who are both ousted from society, ofc witch r more than billy. hope you enjoy!

𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟-𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Everybody in town knew never, ever, to go up to the cottage just past the first few lines of trees of the forest.

The townsfolk would spook their children into shivering at night for fear of the witch who would cast a spell and curse them all. The mothers would make rotten smelling bread and give it to their children saying it was a gift from the witch. The children would gag and cry about the awful gift that was more of an evil warning.

Of course, none of this was true.

Although it was fact, most definitely not fiction, that you were a witch who indeed did live past the first lines of trees in the forest, that was only because some of your herbs and plants could only be grown in the dark. It was most definitely true that you could hex and curse but you’d never make rotten bread.

Who even claimed that witches made rotten bread?

“Mmmm baby, whatever is in that there oven smells heavenly.” Spoke the man laying naked on your bed. You laughed, pulling on a smoky robe. You run your fingers through your hair, your eyes turning stark black, purple haze swirling in the starry night of your eyes as you use your ‘evil magic’ to untangle your hair.

Billy turned, his midnight blue eyes piercing you back with his bullet-like gaze. You winked over your shoulder as he started to stand up, grabbing a pair of shorts. He trudged over to you, whisking your hair away as he kissed up your neck where a tattoo of a daffodil lay fully bloomed.

It was one of Billy’s favorite parts about you, the flower symbolizing so much to you. He knew how hard it was being a ‘witch’, being outed as a “worshiper of the devil.” He knew that your own dear mother was burned at the stake for fighting for what’s right. Billy knew that your father had taken and ran with you as far away as you could at six years old, hiding your powers away from society to protect you.

And you had hidden, for nearly ten years, you had run from everything and everyone. You fled from forest to forest, your father growing weaker and weaker. You had finally stopped running when you found the cottage, nursing your father back to health. But, your father didn’t make it, dying the first night from delirium, forgetting who you were, where you were, everything. He eventually remembered before going mad from grief of losing your mother. You vowed then and there to curse all love, after all, who could ever learn to love a witch as your father had?

Yet you held hope, the magically tattooed daffodil an ode to that hope. Hope that one day you could walk freely amongst the humans, you could love freely without the burden of consequence, that you could one day break your curse.

Billy had waltzed into your life blazing hot and hazily drunk. He had been punished by the townsfolk, being thrown into the forest for the “witch to have at him.” 

Which is when he met you. He hadn’t been afraid, raising his gun to you, his blue eyes piercing right through you. Billy had been surprised when he found out the “horrid witch” who had skin green as moss and a cackle as evil as the Devil was actually just an Angel no older than him. He had lowered his revolver, laughing out at the cruel irony of it all. 

Turns out, you weren’t the wicked one at all.

“I hope you do like it, after all, I’m a rotten witch whose rolls are most certainly revolting.” You purred, spinning in his arms to face him. He smiles lazily, a huff rolling from his lips.

“Well, it's a good thing that this outlaw ain’t any better than a witch baby. ‘Sides,” he lowers his voice, biting your ear playfully before whispering in your ear, his rough and broad hands holding your arms softly, “your pussy tastes too sweet for ya t’be rotten darlin’.”

You chuckle, your legs involuntarily squeezing shut at the memories of last night's heated dinner date.

He chuckles at your reaction, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. Billy walks over to where his discarded clothes lay, pulling up his trousers, barely buttoning his dark blue blouse before bringing his trousers straps up and to rest on his broad shoulders. He stands next to you, pouring himself a cup of coffee as you check on the cinnamon rolls you had baked in the oven.

You bend over, rotating the tray. Billy grins from behind you, slapping your barely covered ass. You yelp, nearly falling forward into the oven. He quickly grabs your hips, pulling you to his lower region. You stand up, turning to face him before hitting his chest.

“Billy, how dare you?!! Are you trying to get me killed??” You flail your arms dramatically.

“Guess those stories ‘bout witches getting pushed into ovens were true then, weren’t they darlin’?”

“Of course they are, who wouldn’t die if you pushed ‘em into a very hot metal oven?”

He turns the question in his head, “Ya ain’t wrong there darling.”

You huff, turning away from him mixing the frosting for the rolls. Billy walks up behind you, running his palms up and down your sides. He kisses the side of your neck, resting his chin on your shoulder. He starts to hum a cowboy song, you assume, the soothing baritone of his voice relaxing your body further into submission. All for this man. 

A true Angel among men, you thought. 

You could, and would never, understand how the world could ever put Billy through all that it had with no remorse. And people still hated and feared him?

He was as sweet as sugar and as loyal as a priest, he was kind and loving, so loving. You never could understand just how he had so much heart to love you as much as he did. 

Billy just couldn’t help it. You were amazing, incredible, truly ethereally out of this world. He thought you were a star who had fallen down to Earth, bringing light and warmth everywhere you went. 

“Mmmm, baby, ‘s so good.” Billy moaned as the white cream coated his lips.

“Billy, ya got a lil something on your lips.” You smile.

He chuckles, licking his lips, savoring the creamy frosting of the fresh cinnamon rolls that you and Billy had been eating. The cool October air seeping into your room as you sat at -your small round dining table, eating the warm and sweet rolls with your special tea.

You take a bite, the fresh cinnamon-y roll, the sweet cream topping cool on your tongue. You look up, meeting Billy’s eyes. His gaze soft and warm, heating the cold plain within your chest.

“....Is there something on my face?” You ask timidly, rubbing your chin to check for any dirt or grime.

“You’re beautiful,” he softly utters, your name like a prayer on his lips. 

You smile, taking another bite of your roll. He smiles as your black cat, Nyx, crawls onto your lap, purring softly. Surprisingly, Nyx had liked Billy from your first meeting till now. Nyx strutted her sassy cute butt across the table, head raised high as she lay on the table right next to where Billy’s hand lay.

He chuckles as his hand goes to stroke the princess head, Nyx letting out content purrs as Billy laughs even more, the sound resonating in your chest.

You summon your camera to capture the moment, Billy sitting with your cat, petting her softly with the softest smile ever as the sunlight streamed through the room giving Billy a halo. You smile as Billy turns to you after the flash of the camera, his nose scrunched and eyebrows furrowed together as his stark blue eyes close in an attempt to relieve his eyes of the bright flash of light.

You laugh as he slowly squints his eyes open, acclimating his baby blue eyes to the brightness of the world all while Her Royal Majesty Nyx has sat there, eyes peacefully closed with Billy’s broad hands splayed in her back.

“What was that for darlin’?”

“Oh nothing, just wanted to have something to remember this moment by.”

He growls, standing up and stalking over to you. Billy attacks your neck with loving bites and kisses while lifting you away and onto your bed. “I can think of another way to help ya remember this mama.”

You laugh as he unhooks his trouser straps while tugging your robe open to the cool air while Nyx struts her stuff out of the window and into your fields as laughter and groans fill the air of your little cottage.

Billy lay on you, his head laying on your belly while your hand softly cards through his brunet curls.

“Baby?”

“Mhmmm Billy?”

He sits up, his broad frame towering over your bare form laying on the bed. “Ya wanna go ‘to town?”

You chuckle, hoisting yourself up, pressing kisses along his shoulder to his strong neck. “Darling, you really think I, of all people, could just stroll into town?”

He sighs, “ ‘s just that, it's Halloween t’night and I thought, well,” he looks away sheepishly, his eyes looking out the window where Nyx had climbed back into the cottage,” though ya’d wanna come with me since they’ll be plenty of other witches around. All the kids been dressing up as of late, thought it’d be the perfect time for ya to finally come see what the towns been like.”

You stare at him, blinking. How long has it been since you’ve seen the town? How much could that awful place have changed?

“Billy, as much as I love that idea, I don’t think it’ll be safe. Who knows what they’ll do as soon as they realize that I ain’t dressed up as a witch but actually am one?”

“Pretty mama, my baby, lovely,” he kisses your head before resting his forehead against yours, his calloused palm holding your face softly,” y’know I won’t let anything, an’ I mean anything, take ya away from me, right?”

“Yea, of course. Not that you need to protect me, I can do that myself. Been doing that myself.” Your eyes flash midnight, mesmerizing Billy.

“Baby, lemme help you, yeah?” His balmy hands reach up, rubbing your shoulders up and down as he pulls you to him. You wrap your arms around him, taking in the musk and honey of Billy, drowning everything out with his heat.

You mumble a small “okay,” satisfying Billy.

“And as much as I love ya naked darlin’, Imma need you to cover up for the rest of the townsfolk.”

You snicker, spalling his chest before standing to get ready. You grab the darkest dress you have, to enhance your witchy vibes, and grab a purse filled with coin just in case.

You and Billy walk through the trees, carefully entering the town’s outskirts where children had already begun to collect candy and participate in party games on folks’ lawns. You smile, wrapping an arm through Billy’s, holding onto him for security of mind and body.

Billy leads you to the center of the town where all the festivities lay. Smashing pumpkin contests (which Billy entered just for you winning 1st place) and apple bobbing contests where you dunked your head in water trying to get an apple twixt your teeth (you had frightened everyone there by using your magic to stay underwater for longer). There were even axe throwing and shooting contests. Needless to say, to make you happy, Billy had entered and won each contest, bringing you back a fruit or stuffed animal each time. 

You continued on through the town, a show all about witches, highly incorrect you told Billy, playing at the theater on your path. You had even watched the poor little girl, an accused witch, ‘burned at the stake’ by the townspeople in the play. It was certainly informative to say the least.

At least you knew to steer clear of fires for a bit.

Billy took you too all his favorite spots, the big apple tree in the apple orchard, the bakery owned by a woman as sweet as his own late mother, and even where he ranched and the barn, which was open as a petting zoo, where he would frequently work.

You laughed as everybody treated you as a normal human, not some satanic heretic. You smiled as Billy took you around town, reveling in the fresh air of humans. You nearly cried when it all came to an end. 

You and Billy ended up on the dock of the local lake where all the ‘young folk’ swam, your legs dangling together in the cool water.

“Thank you, Billy.”

“For what baby?”

You turn to him, his eyes as dark and starry as the night sky that blanketed the sky. “For everything, for making me feel alive. For making me feel seen and real. For taking me out today even though it was dangerous.” You pause, smiling up at the moon, thanking your mother and father for sending down this man, this Angel, to you. “Thank you for today Billy. I had lots of fun.”

He leans down, kissing you fervently on your velvety lips. “Course baby. I’d do anything for ya, I love you.”

You look up into his eyes, kissing him lightly. “I love you too Billy.”

[bri-cheeses]

Fiercely and obsessively (wrapped around your finger) — Part 8

| Rosekiller Soulmate AU | Previous part is here | Word Count: 767 |

-

Barty hadn’t figured he’d have to wait very long, but he was starting to have second thoughts by the time the weekend rolled around. Evan had gone back to acting odd again, even more so than he’d been before his birthday. Every time Barty went to knock his shoulder, or to ruffle his hair, or to lean against him on the couch, Evan would shy away from him like his touch was poisonous. And each time, Barty would recoil before attempting to brush it off as a fluke or misunderstanding. But the more times it happened, the harder it was to dismiss.

And so, seeing as this weekend happened to be a Hogsmeade weekend, Barty had vowed to corner Evan and find out just what was making him so skittish this time.

“What are you wearing?” Barty asked Evan from across the dorm, where he was digging through his dresser. Evan looked up.

“Um… a shirt and some shorts,” he said. “Why?”

Barty sighed. “It’s just that Dorcas got me this nice, muggle-style shirt for my birthday, but I’m worried it might look out of place. What do you think?” He held up the shirt, which Dorcas had called a tank top, and showed it to Evan.

Evan took in the tiny sleeves and elastic fabric, and his eyes flicked to Barty’s torso. He was no doubt imagining how it would look on Barty in a throng of wizards and assessing if it was too risqué or not. Why, then, his cheeks filled with color, Barty didn’t know, but he didn’t much care as he waited for Evan to respond.

“Yeah,” Evan rasped, then snapped his mouth shut like he had said something bad. But he didn’t take it back, which was good enough for Barty.

“Okay,” he decided. “I’ll wear it.”

An hour later they were with Regulus, Pandora, Dorcas, and Marlene, walking through the town of Hogsmeade. Dorcas had been delighted when she saw Barty’s choice of outfit, and even Marlene had commented on how she liked the grunge design of it. It was a nice confident boost, especially when Evan hadn’t been saying much to him at all ever since the conversation in their dorm.

“Marlene and I are going to go Zonko’s, if that’s okay,” Dorcas told the group. Behind her, Marlene grinned, clearly excited at the prospect of the joke shop. “See you guys later.”

“Actually,” Pandora interrupted, “Reg and I will walk with you a bit. We’re going to the Three Broomsticks, so we can all walk together until you reach Zonko’s.”

“Sounds good,” Dorcas responded, nodding her head. She turned towards him and Evan. “That leaves you two alone. Try not to burn anything down, please.”

Barty gasped, affronted. He searched the faces of his other friends, because surely one of them had just a little bit of faith them, right?

He found nothing but nods and murmurs of agreement.

“Seriously, you guys?” he asked. Pandora smiled, Dorcas shrugged, and Reg tilted his head. Marlene just laughed.

“I think she’s right to be saying that,” she said, still laughing. “You two are the craziest pair I’ve ever seen. That being said, I really would like to go to Zonko’s now, so please do try not to argue against plain facts too much.”

Next to him, Evan snorted inelegantly.

“I’ll keep him out of trouble,” he promised, and Marlene nodded at him once before turning and hooking her arm in Dorcas’s to pull her along after her. Regulus started to trail after them, and with one last small chuckle, Pandora went, too.

Leaving Barty alone with Evan.

“So, uh,” he began, not entirely sure that this is where he wanted to have this conversation, but if it had to be here then so be it. But Evan stopped him before he could get much farther than that.

“I was thinking we could go to the Shrieking Shack.”

Barty wrinkled his nose. There wasn’t much to do there other than stand at the fence and look at a rundown house with an odd name, and why Evan wanted to go there was lost on him. Except… there probably wouldn’t be anyone there other than them. And if no one was there to overhear, then Barty could ask Evan what was up without worrying what other people might think.

“Yeah, sure,” Barty agreed after only a slight pause. Evan didn’t wait to say anything more before turning and walking off, then looking back with a raised eyebrow as if to say, “You coming?”

Barty immediately hurried to catch up, and off they went.

-

(Part 9 is here)

[talesfromawannabewriter]

Corpse Groom

@kittenfangirl20

In a small town in the heart of Connecticut, called Winter River, there lived a man and a woman. Their names were Barbara Butterfield and Adam Maitland. They were a young couple deeply in love and after years of dating finally ready to tie the knot. They currently were in the town’s church at their final wedding rehearsal as the big day was tomorrow. Which was not good for Adam as he kept fumbling over his vows as nerves racked his mind. 

Adam: With you by my side I promise to wash over,

Priest: STOP! You did it again!

Adam: Uh…I did?

Priest: Yes, you said wash instead of watch

Adam: Oops sorry, so sorry

Priest: (sighs heavily) Once more from the top!

Loud collective groans filled the church that came from the wedding party. They had been there for almost three hours now and it was starting to affect everybody. Well almost everybody, even though Barbara was tired as well, and though she could use a break she still pressed on. She smiled and gently rubbed her thumb over Adam’s hand comfortingly. She knew this was stressing him out and it wasn’t like the priest was helping.

Priest: Mr. Maitland the vows go like so, ‘I promise to always watch over you, to guide your way through darkness and never stray from your side.’ How exactly is that in any way hard to remember?

Adam: Maybe it’s not so much hard to remember as it is…just not what I want my vows to be

The priest glares down at him

Priest: Explain.

Adam: (gulps) I don’t it’s just these vows aren’t really…me I guess. Don’t get me wrong! Of course I promise to never cheat or hurt Barbara in any way, it’s just watch over you…I’m her husband not her guardian hehe

Adam tried laughing it off but it only made the priest harden his gaze

Priest: These vows, are tradition! To reject them is to basically reject this marriage!

The priest was interrupted with a loud toll of the bell signaling the end of this rehearsal. Though many were happy to finally go they were also a bit worried since they hadn’t mastered the ceremony as they wished. 

Priest: We conclude today’s rehearsal as we return tomorrow for the actual ceremony. With that I leave with one final word of advice

The priest glares down at the slightly trembling groom and leans close to him.

Priest: Young man, Learn. Your. Vows

Later as the company leaves to rest before the rehearsal dinner Barbara turns to her fiance 

Barb: Honey, please don’t let that old man get to you. I think it’s actually sweet that you want to take into consideration of how the traditional vows make me feel.

Adam: I, I’m sorry Barb but it’s just…my parents expect me to say those stupid vows.

Of course it all came back to Adam’s parents, Barbara sighed. Though they weren’t the best people like Barbara’s they expected tradition. They were basically the human definition of ‘first comes love, then comes marriage, and then there comes a baby carriage’. They always expected that of both of them, especially the last part from their marriage. They weren’t even sure they wanted children in the future. Still it was heavily expected of them. Just like these vows.

Adam: I just don’t want to disapoint them, I NEED to perfect these vows before the wedding.

Barbara bit her lip in thought unsure of how to help her fiance, a glance towards the woods helped her acquire an idea. 

Barbara: Why don’t you take a walk in the woods? Some fresh air might help as you rehearse your vows. 

Adam: You don’t mind? 

Barb: I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t. 

Adam glanced at the woods behind him before going back to his future wife. He stared in her beautiful green eyes, they matched the foresty green that surrounded them. It also wasnt just his parents he simply wanted tomorrow to go absolutely perfect for her. 

Adam: Alright, (kisses her forehead) I’ll see you before dinner I love you Barbara

Barb: I love you too Adam

With a swift turn on his heels he headed into the woods, unaware of what awaited him.

(What do you think so far)

[melancholicwriteaholic]

Legend of Welp! #321

Soldier: Link has run out of quests to do!

Commander: Link has run out of quests to do!?

Soldier: I’m afraid so, sir. He finally won all of the carnival games, found the last sea shell, and made everyone in Hyrule happy and financially stable!

Commander: This isn’t good. Well, I mean it’s wonderful, but also it isn’t GOOD!

Noble: I don’t understand what’s the matter. Link is one of Hyrule’s most vigilant defenders and a helper of the needy. If he has finished everything he wants to do, doesn’t that mean Hyrule is at its best condition?

Commander: It’s terrible, sir. Link is Hyrule’s greatest hero when there is injustice to fight and prizes to be won. But in times of peace... well... take a look for yourself.

The commander points out thewindow to where Link stands in a field. The usually bright young boy has an aura of menace about him.

Link: My time as Hyrule’s saviour has come and gone. From now on the hero is no more! I am now Link, the ultimate MENACE OF SOCIETY! I vow in these peaceful times to spare nobody my mischief!

He dawns a kitton mask and gives an evil laugh.

Link: NO ONE SHALL BE SPARED! I WILL BREAK INTO HOMES AT NIGHT AND STEAL CHEESE! I WILL BOTHER PETS AND FARM ANIMALS! I WILL SMASH VASES IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT WHEN EVERYONE WANTS TO SLEEP! MWA HA HA HA HA!

The soldier and commander shake their heads. The noble swallows nervously.

Noble: Well, that certainly seems... pretty bothersome. But Link does generally listen to the counsel of his friends. Maybe if they talk him out of this he will listen?

Commander: Look again.

Link is surrounded by his friends from all over Hyrule. They clap and cheer at his speech and promises of mayhem.

Navi: There are PLENTY of pots to destroy in castle town!

Fi: Use me to search for treasure while you raid, master.

Darunia: Remember to use BOMB FLOWERS if you need an extra kick to get rid of obstacles that get in your way!

Malon: Make sure Epona gets lots of exercise! Use her to leap over fences!

Anju: If you find any cuckoos while breaking and entering bring them to me and I will give you a reward!

Great Fairy: And come to me if you’re ever in danger of facing consequences for your actions. I will heal you up.

The noble shakes his head

Noble: Well, he’s totally loyal to Her Majesty and her family. Perhaps they will stop him?

Commander: Look again.

The hero is approached by the kings and princesses of Hyrule.

Zelda: Link, you goof. You can’t cause mayhem all over Hyrule without my permission. Here! A signed letter giving you permission to enter any region with the royal seal of approval!

Ruto: And my permission to enter the body of Jabu Jabu, my people’s sacred deity, anytime you want if you want to search for treasure in there.

Riju: This royal helm, which is an important tool of my people, is yours to wear as well. As well as this gown for if you want to break the law of my land and come into my royal home!

King Bosphoramus Rhoam Hyrule: Remember to keep yourself warm with fires at night. Here’s my torch, axe, and some flint to get yourself started.

King Daphnes Nohansen Hyrule: And keep in touch with this stone on your travels, Link, just in case you need a royal pardoning.

King Harkinian: And don’t forget your SMART SWORD!

The soldier and commander sigh.

Noble: Oh. We are doomed.

*** *** ***

There’s a meme in The Legend of Zelda fandom that Link is a horrible mischievous gremlin child, and that is true. But I NEED everyone to undestand that his horribleness is ENCOURAGED. His friends, bosses, and the Gods themselves WANT HIM TO BE A HORRIBLE GREMLIN CHILD.

They sell him bombs at an affordable price. They meet up with him in secret places that require him to break into the key political building of their Kingdom (A hanging offence if I’ve ever heard of one). They are IN ON THE ACTION of his quests.

[phoenixmaiden-gaming]

Assassin’s Creed III: Liberation part 7

It was the weekend and I had nothing to do so I had a lot longer game play and I did most of it exploring and uncovering areas of the Bayou. I’m not kidding, I spent at least an hour going around the entire map in a canoe to uncover the little islands and search for diary pages and alligator eggs. In between I did some of the missions of saving slaves, yet there is a mystery behind it. It led me back to New Orleans where I took on some side quests to unlock new shops I could buy.

I finally made it down to the docks where I met with Gerald and he said I could go to the Bayou by taking a boat here. (S3/M3: Elegant and Deadly - complete)

The memory notes said that after taking care of her father’s business Aveline set off to uncover the disappearances of slaves and vagrants.

Now in the Bayou, I took a look at the map and saw that there were a few diary pages I could get nearby. So I got them as well as helped out some people infected with poison.

I then went to the witch doctor to start the next mission. Aveline asked him if he knew if there were any people who have gone missing. He said he didn’t notice since a lot of people come here to rest for a while and then leave. But he said Elise may know more since she does employ a lot of people.

The witch doctor then said that he sensed a great change coming and I will face powerful foes. So he gave me a new poison that he created that will make a person hysterical for a time.

I found Elsie and she had some information for me. She had seen a Convoy coming from the fort with people, a lot of them. She didn’t know where they were going, but we had to stop them. She wanted me to meet her the next day.

In the mean time I took a canoe to look for a diary page nearby and decided to uncover some of the dark areas on the map since getting the Viewpoint didn’t reach out that far. I even found an alligator egg.

I made it around to where Elise wanted to meet and there was a caravan nearby with a lot of people tied up.

I then had to take out the guards by the wagons. I just stayed back and used my blowpipe to poison them. Easy peasy.

Elise said she recognized some of the people here. Once of which was called Chrisfait. When she told him they were here to rescue him, he wasn’t exactly happy about it. According to him, they were being taken to a new place to work and freedom. Yet he was tied up. Chrisfait passed it off as a precaution since there were many who left without paying their faire.

It still didn’t sit right with Elise and Aveline and they vowed to get to the bottom of it. Elise said that since most of the soldiers were in town, the fort shouldn’t have many left, so we should investigate. She’ll meet me by the fort. (S3/M4: Vanishing Slaves - complete)

I found a side quest to take out a business rival. The man I talked to said that there was a man Monsieur Reynaud who would divert goods through the Bayou to sell on the black market thanks to the ties with the Spanish Military. I’ll have to put the heat on them to make them stop.

After swimming around in the canoe to uncover another part of the map, I made the way around to where the rival boss was. He was being escorted so I just used my pipe to take him out from afar. (Side Quest: M. Reynaud’s Bypass - complete)

I continued on exploring around the outskirts of the bayou and found my way to the next viewpoint and a chest I couldn’t get before. I also got my last alligator egg and I unlocked a special hat. Wonder what it is...

I eventually made my way all the way around and was behind the fort that I was supposed to go to. But I went up the back way and synced the last Viewpoint.

I then went back to the village because there were some new locked locations on the map. It turned out to be the shops that belonged to the rival. I could now buy the locations, so I bought the weapons and tailor shops.

I met up with Elise near the fort and she said that there should only be a Lieutenant left. So now was our chance.

She then asked why this was all happening now and Aveline told her about the plot a few years ago when she stopped someone trying to plot the control of the Gouverneur and they were trying to divert slaves to an underground project. But she put a stop to it. From what it looks like, it’s happening again.

The first thing I had to do was take out some guards at the entrance to the fort and not be seen. So I used my new poison on one of them to make them go crazy that he took out most of the guards. There was just one left after his rampage, then we could head inside.

As soon as we got inside, Elise covered my back with her shot gun while I chased after the Spanish Officer. It was easy enough to follow him up the battlements and take him out. Now all we had to do was free the slaves.

But first, I grabbed the very last treasure chest in the Bayou.

I went down to the cells in the center of the fort and let them out, but they didn’t look happy about it. One of them talked about a work ship that was supposed to take them out of this place. They didn’t know where they were going only that it would be away from the colony.

Elise told Aveline to make herself scarce since the people that we just freed were not reacting the way we thought they would Whatever the Spanish had promised them must have been very appealing that they were willingly being put into cages. (S3/M5: Storming the Fort - complete).

During the loading screen, the animus memory notes said that Aveline thinks the one behind the disappearance is the Governor. So she was going to out a plan in motion to lure him out of hiding.

I was now back in New Orleans and I noticed there were new side quests to take down a business rival. I found the contact and he told me about a man named Ratel who was intimidating merchants and stealing their profits and in response the merchants have to sell their items for more money. So I had to take care of him.

I went down by the docks and was able to find him no problem. I just wanted to do a full sync and I couldn’t kill him myself. So I had to get close enough to use my poison on one of the guards so that he would kill him for me. I kept having to start over because he kept seeing me and moving away. I eventually found the right angle and used the poison and he killed the target. (Side Quest: M. Ratel’s Merchants - complete)

That was where I ended it for today. I got a lot done in the Bayou, lots of exploring and filling out the map. Got the rest of the chests and viewpoints. And moved the plot forward a bit. All in all, a good day. I’ll see what I can get done next time. Until then. Happy Gaming!!

[randomleafoflove]

While I’m supposed to be studying for law school entrance exams, I keep getting ideas for an other MDZS SI/OC story, this time as a Jin.

Jin Xushào is Jin Zixuan’s twin sister (give JZX some close sibling bonds!). Since the yellow/gold is already there, she adds black and makes bees her personal motif. At first it’s ridiculed (bees visiting flowers symbolism would be more appropriate for JGS), until she proves that the previously thought feng-wang (bee-king) was actually feng-niangniang (bee-queen).

Since LanlingJin is, without a doubt, the most dangerous place for a young woman (I don’t doubt that the disciples very much followed JGS’s example in how to treat women), she very much attempts to arrange a marriage for herself to either NMJ or LXC (since JZX is betrothed to JYL, there’s no need to entertain the thought of marrying JC, and like hell would she marry a Wen, and she can’t be sure any of the young masters of the smaller sects under Jin aegis isn’t her half-brother, like Qin Su).

Here’s the first rough draft of the beginning.

I looked around Yiling, my nose scrunched in slight disgust.

It wasn't even that the village was dirty, exactly. It just wasn't what I was used to in Jinlintai.

The places I was allowed in Jinlintai were never anything less than sparkling, and Yiling was showing some wear and tear.

Why the Wen sect insisted the sect leaders' bring their families for the barrier renewal, I'll never understand, or why grandfather brought me and my brother along at all. We were six, it's not like we were going to be of help with the barrier renewal.

We weren't the only kids there, of course. All the major sects had brought their young heirs, from the fourteen-year-old Wen Xu to the four-year-old Nie Huaisang. It was like the most uncomfortable family reunion: meeting all those second- or third cousins that your parents expect you to get along with and then remember.

Let me give you some advice: do not leave your spoiled little brats under the supervision of just their nannies, who have already been browbeaten into submission by their little monster charges.

The elder boys had immediately started goading each other into demonstrating feats of strength, but given that the Wen was at least a few years older, he had won every challenge thus far, annoying the Nie. The younger Wen had immediately identified the younger Nie as a prime target and had started poking the four-year-old. My brother and the Jiang heir had gotten into and argument right away, which the older Lan and the older Jiang tried to mediate, and the younger Lan had become so overwhelmed that he'd resorted to biting anyone but his brother who came within biting distance.

I would have been surprised if the cacophony was not heard all the way back in Lanling.

I had walked out of what I'd dubbed the ”kiddie courtyard”, my nanny and my guard following behind. They would not reduce me to acting like a little barbarian, I'd vowed to myself.

Instead, I'd demanded to see Yiling, the first place other than Lanling that I'd visited.

And there wasn't much to it.

The residents had obviously tried their best. It wasn't like they had hundreds of cultivators visiting them all that often, spending their money whenever they stepped outside the large, barely maintained but usually abandoned estate* on the skirts of the town. Yiling wasn't a place with a thriving tourism, nor did they really have anything in particular to sell, so they must try to milk us cultivators for all that we have while we're here.

We stopped by one of the toy vendors to look at the rattle drums (A-Hòu would be insufferable if I came back without something for him). The vendor engaged my nanny in conversation, intuiting that while I'd have to like the toys, she was the one in control of the money.

Bored, I kicked the unseasonably early snow. This was a game I'd gotten lost in during my first childhood, if it can be called that. Pack the snow together with your feet, then stomp on it, and repeat ad nauseam.

I managed to scrape a respectable amount of trampled, wet snow when I caught movement from the alley behind the vendor.

It was a child dressed in rags, doing what I'd done, and laughing as he stomped on his own snow mound.

The child had no shoes.

His feet were red, but not bleeding.

That he was still alive, when it was just past freezing, and capable of playing... his potential as a cultivator must've been immense.

The quick calculations that went through my mind weren't really suitable for a child my age, but that's what you get for sticking a too smart child to a place like Jinlintai.

I made my way over to the child. ”Aren't you cold?”

The child looked startled, but then smiled. It was... it could not be a real smile, but I had trouble identifying what made it fake. ”Yes, but A-Ying can ignore it!”

”Does A-Ying like being cold?” I asked, frowning.

”No, silly! Who likes being cold? A-Ying said A-Ying can ignore it! Just breathe like-” he took a deep breath and probably did some cultivation, and let the air whoosh out of his lungs. ”-like that! Then you're all warm again! Mama taught A-Ying!” He grinned proudly.

”Where is your mama? Or baba?” I had to ascertain he was alone.

A-Ying shrugged. ”They left for a  night hunt a long time ago and didn't come back. The lady at the inn kicked me out not long after.”

“Do you want to come home with me? I live all the way in Lanling. You could join my sect and be a cultivator,” I offered. Not the most eloquent offer I'll admit, but for a street rat? It'd do.

A-Ying thought about it for a moment. “Would I have food? And shoes?”

“Mn. Yes. And new clothes.” I went over what “pro-work” talking points I remembered. “My Lady mother would probably also say dignity in proper work, but since you're so little still, I think we can waive that.”

“I can work!” A-Ying stomped his foot indignantly. “I'll be the best worker you've ever seen!”

Inwardly, my smile widened. Hook, line and sinker. “We'll see,” I soothed. “What's you're name?”

“Wei Ying!”

“Do you know the characters?”

Wei Ying shook his head. “Nuh huh. Baba was teaching me, I think, but I can't remember.”

“That's okay,” I comforted him. “Then you'll be Yīng, as in sleet.” I held out my arm for the heavy, wet snow to land on. “This kind of snow is the best to play with.” And the easiest to mold. “I'll have to think about the last name. Or we could ask around if the inn lady knew the characters.”

[dilf-lover99]

6:52 | B.L. / S.M.

Pairings: Billy Loomis x Female Reader, Stu Macher x Female Reader

Summary: Reader is the daughter of an FBI profiler and childhood best friends with Billy and Stu. When a killer starts terrorizing her friends she has to choose between following her head or her heart.

Warnings: death, blood, stabbing, violence, swearing, manipulation, kissing, major character death (deviation from cannon), mommy issues, reader is smart but a little naive, ending is open to interpretation

Word Count: 7.9k

a/n: happy halloween !! i know it's been a while but hopefully this long ass story makes up for it. please don't cancel me for this, i'm not immune to the charm of a 25 year old slasher film. let me know what you think !

Six minutes and fifty-two seconds.

According to some remarkably arbitrary article you skimmed through in a mediocre issue of Teen Beat, it takes the average person six minutes and fifty-two seconds to determine which movie they’re going to watch.

In six minutes and fifty-two seconds you can brew half a pot of particularly unpalatable coffee in your kitchen. You can listen to your favourite Jeff Buckley song with eight seconds to spare, or drain a teeming glass of water.

Six minutes and fifty-two seconds is also the precise duration of time in which you’ve managed to evade the knife-wielding psychopath who’s killing your friends for sport.

Six minutes and fifty-two seconds.

Now here you stand in Stu Macher’s kitchen, explicitly parallel to the masked executioner, dread trickling deliberately throughout your body, dancing delicately up the incurvation of your spine.

Panic and confusion mingle together earnestly inside as you notice the killer stop before you, scarcely within arm’s reach. He tilts his disguised head at you slowly, almost as though he’s confounded that an armed maniac has been chasing you around the Macher house for the last few minutes.

“Hey...” He murmurs with a strangely familiar resonance, “I’m not gonna hurt ‘ya, Doll.”

Your expeditious breathing slows to a halt. Your face, previously adorned in confusion, is now painted with discouragement as you place who the voice belongs to.

No, you didn’t want to be right. Not this time.

A second unmasked figure appears behind him, holding a horrified and misty-eyed Sydney Prescott in his gangly arms.

“Well,” he draws out with a blinding smile, voice dripping with lunacy, “How do ya like our big reveal, Sunshine?”

Six minutes and fifty-two seconds, you think to yourself indignantly, what a fucking joke.

You were decidedly not a morning person.

This is your first thought, a routinely reoccurring thought at that, as you move to swiftly silence the shrill reverberations of your alarm clock. There’s a distinct lack of routine to your mornings, though you consider it a win in itself being awake before school starts.

You gradually make your way downstairs, adorning an oversized Fresh Prince of Bel-Air t-shirt and the first clean pair of jeans you see, offhandedly reminding yourself to do your laundry.

The house is forebodingly silent, you should’ve long since become accustomed to that. Still you can’t help the acrimonious look you aim toward the note sitting on your kitchen counter, rereading it for the umpteenth time before grabbing yourself some breakfast.

Had to leave town for a case, left you some money for food. Call you when I can - Love Dad

At least he left a note this time you think to yourself despondently. 

You don’t blame him for not sticking around, god knows your mom couldn’t either. But at least when she left it was for good. She didn’t resurface every few weeks and pretend to know what was going on in your life, vowing to be more present if given the chance, only to leave the next time a murder happened in some backwater town five thousand miles away from the daughter she swore to stick around for. No, that was all your dad.

You used to admire him, ironically enough. Solving murders and catching the bad guys, he used to be your hero. You and your mom used to allocate hours each day waiting zealously by the phone to hear of his adventures. In the course of time your mom got tired of waiting for your dad to call, eventually she just got tired of him in general. She got tired of you in general.

You never faulted your dad for her desertion, how could you? She left him too. Though you did follow her lead in straying from your perch aside the phone. These days it never rang anyhow.

The sharp honking of a car horn redirects your attention from your melancholic reverie, you grab your bag and set the home alarm before locking the door behind you, grateful for the excuse to be anywhere but your empty house.

“Well don’t you look like a ray of sunshine this morning?” Stu’s voice sounds from the passenger seat of Billy’s car as you smoothly slide into the back.

“What’s ‘a matter? You’re not all freaked about the killer are you?” He questions, turning his lanky body around in the seat so that he’s facing you, his wide dopey grin now on full display.

Right, the killer.

It’s the only story currently circulating on the Woodsboro news, plastered on the cover of every tabloid, not to mention it’s virtually the only thing your friends seem to talk about since it happened.

Casey Becker and her boyfriend Steve Orth were brutally murdered, their remains remorselessly strung up like Christmas ornaments. It should have made you sick to your stomach. But after all the gory photos you’d seen hanging on the cork board in your dad’s office, you couldn’t help the twisted tinge of curiosity that swirled about in your brain. Who did this? Your FBI profiler dad, who specializes in capturing people that commit violent crimes, sure picked a great time to be out of state for work.

“No, but I’m super glad that you always find a way to bring it up. Very well adjusted of you.” You retort with a gentle smile, as you buckle your seatbelt, instantly feeling better at the mere sight of your two best friends.

“Ah, come on. You know we’d never let anything happen t’you. Right, Billy?” He nudges his elbow at Billy, awaiting his agreeance.

“Course not.” Billy states, his voice is gentle but his tone is stern, and you don’t miss the indicative look he flashes Stu. What’s all that about?

“O..kay then.” You make it a point to remember that look. It’s peculiarly akin to the look he gave Stu at the fountain the other morning.

“I didn’t kill anybody” Stu abruptly defended.

“No one’s saying you did.” Billy shot Stu an ominous look of warning. 

What the hell are those two idiots hiding? 

“My knights in shining armour, truly. However could I repay you?” You deadpan sarcastically, coming to the conclusion that there is definitely something going on. You’re always right about these things. Whatever it is, you’re going to figure it out eventually.

You’ve known Billy and Stu since elementary school, they can’t hide things from you. At least Stu can’t. His facade will shatter like glass if you look up at him with big eyes and an amiable smile. Billy on the other hand, had spent copious amounts of time with you sifting through your father’s research when you were kids, which gave him the invaluable knowledge of how to get away with lying. That and his prodigious poker face.

“Well- And I’m so glad you asked, there’s actually a super easy way to do that. Wouldn’t take too long either-” You don’t even need to look at Stu to know this is another one of his empty-headed innuendos for sex.

“Wouldn’t take too long is right. At least that’s what Tate told me. You might wanna work on that.” You tease, gently squeezing his arm in mock sympathy.

Billy lets out a modest chuckle of approval at your childish rebuttal, sending you a wink in the rear-view mirror when he catches your smile growing at the sound.

You try to ignore the hastening uptick of your pulse at the simple action. He has a girlfriend, you remind yourself remorsefully, he’s your best friend and that’s all.

“Oh really? Guess we’ll just have to wait and see about that, won’t we?” Stu’s resplendent crystal eyes hold an edge of irritation, but before you can discern the connotation of it, they’re overtaken by the playful mischief you’re certain is a permanent fixture in them.

“Speaking of this whole killer business,” You swiftly steer the subject back, aware of your best friends’ infatuation with the topic, “How’s Sid holding up?”

Of all your friends, the killings had the strongest emotional impact on Sidney. When taken into account that the same thing happened to her mom almost exactly a year ago, it’s something of a wonder that she’s showing up to school at all.

Though Cotton Weary was tried and convicted for the murder of Sidney’s mother, you and your dad always shared a covert belief that somebody else was to blame. When you combed through the evidence, albeit evidence you weren’t legally allowed to see, something felt off about it all. Your dad agreed, stating as much to the local police who were less than receptive of his findings. In essence, they told him to fuck off, that they’d closed the case without the help of the FBI.

You never wavered on your belief that the true perpetrator escaped undetected, and now with the same m.o. being used to kill Casey and Steve, you’re adamant that these cases are connected. Of course you’ve kept this ideology to yourself, not wishing to dredge up any more pain for Sid, the poor girl’s already been through more than her fair share of it.

“More frigid than usual I bet. If that’s even possible.” Stu jokes incautiously.

Billy swats Stu firmly in the chest, glancing at you in the mirror again as Stu lets out a minor yelp, “She’s not so good. I tried to make her feel better, but you know how I am with that sort of stuff” he says unhurriedly.

Unfortunately I do, you think to yourself. Of all the things you love about Billy, patience and understanding are not exactly the top contenders. You imagine his version of consoling Sid ended with her feeling worse.

“At least you tried. That counts for something.” You add optimistically, already preparing to check in with Sid the first chance you get.

“I’m not sure it does,” His eyes are surveying your every feature through the rearview mirror and you’re becoming acutely aware that he’s barely spared a glance at the road since he started driving, you being the sole focus of his attention, “Not with her anyway,” He mumbles out the last part but you manage to piece it together inquisitively.

If you were thinking with your emotions instead of your intellect, you’d have picked up on the nuance of his words and the uncharacteristic benevolence of his gaze. You’d have pieced together sooner that you actually had a chance with Billy Loomis.

The trajectory of your life, the lives of your friends, could have been exponentially juxtaposed if you had only continued to prioritize your mind above your heart.

“Fuck!” Oh god, oh god, oh fuck! Not the most eloquent thoughts in the world, but they’re about all you’ve got since you caught sight of the menacing masked figure jumping onto Sidney, armed with a particularly sharp-edged blade.

You’re vehemently regretting tagging along to what was initially intended to be a girls night with Tatum and Sid. 

“Safety in numbers,” Tatum smiled impishly, tugging on your arm in that way she does when she wants something bad enough, “Besides, your dad’s gone too! You and Sid would be much safer at my place.” She brought up a valid point. Although you weren’t as unnerved as your friends at the prospect of being murdered, your strong distaste for spending another night alone in your house was enough for you to give in to your friend’s wishes.

“Alright. I’ll come. But no cheesy rom-coms, we’re watching Seven.” You conceded sooner than Tatum expected. She had a whole speech about the sanctity of friendship planned, but she intended to save it for another time.

“You’ll have to convince Sid. You know how she feels about horror movies.”

“I also know how she feels about Brad Pitt,” You teased with a grin, earning an emphatic giggle from Tatum, “Besides, it’s a thriller not a horror. Randy would die just to roll over in his grave if he heard you right now.”

The plan was to go back to your houses separately and grab your things, Tatum would pick you each up on her way home from practice. The plan changed after you observed Sidney throughout the day. You could tell she was jittery and nervous, despite her fruitless attempts at covering it up, so you went straight to her house together after school. 

The two of you briskly passed out on opposite ends of the couch, only awoken by the piercing ring of Sid’s telephone. “Tate’s gonna be a while, she got held up at practice.” Sid relayed the message to you, gingerly rubbing the evidence of sleep from her eyes.

You nodded in understanding, moving from your previous position on the couch and deftly stretching the tender muscles in your back.

“I’m gonna grab a glass of water. You want anything?” You asked Sid as the phone resumed ringing, she shook her head no with a comfortable smile and answered the call as you walked toward the kitchen and out of ear shot.

You moved around the kitchen with an air of familiarity, taking your time filling the glass. Your walk back to Sidney turned into a swift jog, confusion and mild alarm made their presence known on your face as you heard her yell “Fuck you, cretin!” into the phone with conviction.

“Sid- Hey, what’s going on?” You moved to comfort her frenzied form, taking over for her shaking hands you swiftly locked the chain on her front door.

“The killer- He… Oh my god!” Her frenetic speech died a merciless death on her lips as she heard the door of her hall closet swing open. Before either of you could register what was happening, the killer was on top of her.

“Fuck!” Sid yelps, flailing wildly in a desperate attempt to escape from the masked lunatic’s grip.

You froze for a moment back there, you aren’t proud of it. All the self-defence lessons and step-by-step protocols for how to survive in a dangerous situation seemed to have vanished from your mind. But now you can hear his voice in your head, stern but compassionately reassuring like it always was, “C’mon (y/n), this is life or death. As much as I wish I could, I can’t always be here with a gun and a vest to protect you. So come on, how are you gonna fight back?” You used to hate it when he did that. Why should a girl your age worry about those things?

Thanks Dad, you silently praise, guess you make the time we spend together count.

You snap out of it instantaneously, bringing down your half-empty glass of water over the killer’s head with considerable force, shattering it to pieces and stunning him long enough for you to send a brutal kick to his side, temporarily removing his looming figure from atop Sidney. You suppress a wince as you notice one particularly long shard of glass has embedded itself deeply into your palm, blood trickling evenly from the gash as you gingerly remove it.

You waste no time grabbing Sidney from the floor, pulling her along with haste as you reach the staircase and begin your ascent. “Wait- The front door is-” She starts before you cut her off, “It’s locked Sid. We don’t have time, he’s right behind us.” She turns to gage the distance and her eyes widen substantially as she sees just how correct you are. He’s right there.

In a matter of nanoseconds the killer grabs ahold of Sidney’s foot, giving it a solid tug. Her hand slips from yours as he drags her down the steps.

“Anything can be used as a weapon, especially when you combine it with the element of surprise.” Your dad’s voice rings through your ears once more as you stormily grab hold of a bulky framed painting from the wall and smash it down onto the killer’s head. He groans and trips back a half-step, just enough distance for you to pull Sidney back up, taking care to hold on extra tightly as you resume your course to her bedroom.

Hightailing it to her room, the two of you close the door behind you, Sidney rushing to alert the police as you make a half-assed attempt to barricade the door shut, working at warp-speed.

The door jolts violently behind you as the killer manages to squeeze his arm through, prompting Sid to bellow out a short scream of terror. You push back on the door with all your body weight, a triumphant smile fighting its way to the surface as you hear the vociferous groan of pain emitting from your pursuer. He pulls his arm back with haste, allowing the door to shut fully behind you.

It’s agonizingly silent. What’s he going to do now? He’s much stronger than you or Sidney, surely he could break down the door. Or stab it with his knife, stab you with his knife. You’re eagerly awaiting his next move. Sid, on the other hand, needs this to be the end of it. She manages to contact the police through her computer, and you can’t deny the pride you feel for her, carrying on despite the clearcut terror she’s just experienced.

You both turn toward the window on high alert, a noise informing you that you’re not alone. You grab the first thing within your reach, Sidney’s hairbrush, and hurl it with impressive force at the figure entering her bedroom. 

“Ow! Jesus (y/n)! What the hell’s goin’ on? I heard Sid screaming. The door was locked. Are you guys okay?” Billy questions, pulling himself through the window once he recovers from the hairbrush hit to his temple.

I heard Sid screaming.

How did he know it was Sid who screamed? And what exactly was he doing here anyway? 

No, you cut yourself off, there’s no way! It’s Billy, he wouldn’t…

Would he?

When you and your dad made the profile for Maureen’s killer, you determined that it had to be a young adult male between the ages of 16 to 24. You also theorized that he had to know Maureen, the level of rage present in her killing was too personal for a stranger to carry out. Your dad threw around the idea that maybe there were two killers, one with a hunger to be in control, the other just along for the thrill of the hunt. 

You remember the day you brought the profile up to Billy and Stu.

The three of you were watching some cheesy 80s slasher in Stu’s spacious living room, Stu’s arm around your waist as your head gently laid on Billy’s shoulder.

“My dad agrees with me you know?” You start, voice overtaking the synthetic screams of whichever big-breasted actress was getting slaughtered on screen, “That it wasn’t Cotton Weary. He actually thinks there were two of ‘em.” Billy and Stu both tense up, causing you to observe them from the corner of your eye.

There was a brief look of alarm on Stu’s face causing your eyebrows to furrow together in confusion. Perhaps you should have kept your reaction subdued, as Billy picked up on it instantaneously. He delicately grabbed ahold of your chin, the pads of his fingertips setting your skin ablaze beneath them, turning your face to his he muttered coldly, “Since when do you care what that asshole thinks?” 

Your gaze dropped from his, a frown taking over your lips. He’s right, in a way, but he doesn’t have to say it like that.

“Hey, come on Sunshine, turn that frown upside down, huh?” Stu was his usual sanguine self again in the blink of an eye, that beautiful broad grin already back in its rightful place on his lips, “Who needs him anyway? You got us.”

“Yeah,” You smiled back despite yourself, “Guess that makes me pretty lucky.”

For someone who loves talking about murder so much, he always manages to brazenly shut it down whenever you bring up the profile. The profile that he fits.

How did you never see it before?

“Sid,” You start slowly, taking a gentle step toward the girl who’s wrapped in her boyfriend’s embrace. You’re attempting this with the utmost care so as not to alarm Billy, in case he’s hiding the familiar blade on his person, “This cut on my hand is pretty deep,” It’s true, though you couldn’t care less about it, “Can you come help me with it, please.”

Shit.

Your voice broke on the last syllable and you’re definitive that he noticed.

Billy turns to you with a look of confusion, it’s almost as though he can read your mind. “Your hand?” He questions, not releasing Sid from his grip, “What happened to your hand?” He seems genuinely concerned and you’re beginning to doubt your own instincts. Until Sid pulls away from his grip, a soft thump resounding as something falls from Billy’s pocket.

A mobile phone. 

The kind of mobile phone a killer would have if he had just made a menacing, life-threatening phone call to his girlfriend.

Why did you have to be right?

Six minutes and fifty-two seconds. You don’t time it, but that’s how long it takes for you to change into your pyjamas, or in this case one of Dewey’s old t-shirts that less than flatteringly falls below your knees in an Ebenezer Scrooge sort of way, and get situated beside Tatum in one of her twin beds.

Despite the cataclysmic series of events you’ve just been through, you manage a loose smile as you watch Sidney ice her hand after landing a particularly impressive punch on Gale Weathers’ face. 

“The pain’s gonna fade in the morning but the pride’ll last. At least mine will, you’re kinda badass, Prescott.” You jest, attempting to quell the foreboding thoughts you’re sure are threatening to chew her up and swallow her whole.

“Ditto,” She motions to your injured hand, all bandaged up thanks to Dewey’s gentle insistence, “I’m sorry it happened, you shouldn’t have gotten hurt saving me.” She concludes, ever the saint.

“Sid, no. Okay? None of that should have happened in the first place.” And I should have seen it coming. You keep that one to yourself.

“Do you really think Billy did it?” Tatum questions from beside you.

“He was there, Tatum.” Sidney replies solemnly.

You zone out of the conversation, even after Sidney leaves the room. You can’t stop thinking about the look Billy gave you as they pushed him into the back of the police car. He was desperate, that much was obvious, but there was something else there too, it was almost like he was heartbroken.

Why would he look at you like that?

Maybe he was upset that you figured him out before he had the chance to gut you like a fish. Maybe it was because he knew Sid would never speak to him again.

Or maybe it was because he couldn’t fathom you believing this about him, you ponder remorsefully, maybe he was innocent.

You’re on edge, anyone with a functioning pair of eyes can see that. But it’s not for the reasons they’d think. You’re not scared of some masked psycho reaching out and slicing your throat. You’re perturbed at all of the eyes that are drawn to you like moths to a flame. 

You’d had enough of it before the first period bell even rang.

“How does it feel to be almost murdered?” An immensely insensitive reporter shouted, hovering the microphone unreasonably close to Sid’s face, onlookers gathered around you, awaiting her response with bated breath, “Keep holding that thing in her face and I’ll be happy to ask you the same question.” You threatened half-heartedly, gently maneuvering Sid and yourself through the crowd.

“Hey pretty lady,” Stu’s congenial voice sounds from behind you, firmly knocking this morning’s unpleasant memory from your cranium. He wraps his gangly arms around your middle and bends down a farcical distance to rest his chin upon your shoulder, “Star in any good horror movies lately?” He questions, letting out a chortle at his own words.

“You’re a really emotionally intelligent guy Stu. Anybody ever tell you that?” Your acerbic undertone isn’t lost on him for once as he registers your discomfort.

“Hey- That was- You know I’m just joking, I’m sorry.”

“I know you’re joking, you’re just not very funny.” 

Removing his hands from your body, too soon for your liking, you think, he throws himself dramatically against a row of lockers, hands on his heart as he groans in mock agony, “Take it back! Please, take it back!” 

He’s an idiot.

An idiot with perfectly carved dimples and the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. And you want so desperately not to give in to his theatrics, but you can’t help it, not when those eyes are shining at you like the cascading glimmer of the moonlight. You’re smiling before you can stop yourself.

“Ahhh, there it is,” Stu’s voice still holds that ever-present joking tone, but his eyes are sincere, like he’s desperate for you to pick up on the emotion hiding beneath it all, “Can’t live without that smile. ‘M never gonna let you go.”

Your heartbeat rapidly increases in pace and you all but force yourself to look anywhere but his imprudently handsome face. Stop that, you internalize, best friends, nothing more.

“(y/n), hey. Can I talk to you for a sec?” You don’t need to redirect your gaze to pinpoint the source of the voice.

It’s Billy.

“See ya later, Sunshine.” Stu bids you farewell, placing a gentle lingering kiss on the apple of your cheek.

“I have to get to class.” You turn to walk from Billy, not in the mood to hear whatever tales of deception he’s concocted in the confines of his imagination.

“Just-” He reaches out for your arm, stopping dead in his tracks when you flinch away from his touch, “Give me ten minutes okay? If you hate me after that, then I’ll leave you alone for good.” The sorrow in his voice is enough to keep your feet firmly planted.

“You’ve got,” You spare a quick glimpse at the clock on the wall, mentally calculating how long it’ll be before you’re late to AP Chemistry, “Six minutes and fifty-two seconds. Take it or leave it.”

“Yeah, I’ll take it.” He attempts a smile but it falls faster than it formed.

“I’m not an idiot Billy. Or- Or maybe I am, because I didn’t see it sooner, but-”

“Don’t do that,” His voice resembles a whisper, his eyes are pleading but there’s also an edge in them that makes the hair stand up on the back of your neck, “Don’t- You know me, right? We’ve been friends since we were kids. Look at me,” His fingers reach out for you, a near imperceptible smile twitching at the sides of his mouth when you don’t immediately recoil, “You know me. I’d never do anything to hurt you.” 

You know in your mind that there’s no reasonable explanation for how it all adds up. He fits the profile. But in your heart, you know he’s telling you the truth. The look in his eyes confirms his words, he wouldn’t hurt you.

Against your better judgement you lean into his touch, his hand finds its way to your cheek, drawing indistinguishable circles above your zygomatic bone with his thumb.

“What about Sid? Have you talked to her?” You feel his body tense up, though he does a good job of keeping his emotions unreadable.

“Yeah. We talked.”

“And?”

“And,” He breathes agitatedly, “We broke up.”

“You what? Well- Are you okay? Is she okay? Oh god, I should go find her.” You softly attempt to maneuver from his grip but his hold tightens slightly.

“She’s the one who dumped me, so I’m sure she’s fine.” 

“Does she still think-?”

“No. No, she knows I didn’t do it. But I guess it just wasn’t working out.” If he’s lying, he should make a career out of it. You’re studying every inch of his captivatingly handsome face, and you can’t find a hint of misrepresentation.

“It’s for the best really,” His honeyed gaze settles on your own eyes, your breath hitching noticeably as you take in their mahogany-toned opulence, “Otherwise I couldn’t do this.” His lips are on your own without a moments hesitation.

You know the only intelligent response is to pull away and race to AP Chem, pretending like it never happened. But today you’re letting your heart think for you. And it feels precariously marvellous. You kiss him back with more passion than you knew you were capable of mustering, the years of feelings you’ve hidden away, even from yourself, come spilling out from your lips and land delectably onto his.

Billy moves his unoccupied hand into your hair, giving it a gentle tug, expertly sliding his tongue into your mouth the moment your lips part to release a gentle moan. If this is what it feels like to prioritize your heart above your mind, you’re not entirely confident you’ll ever use your brain again.

The vociferous ringing of the warning bell unwillingly splits the two of you apart, though his forehead still rests contentedly against your own.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that, Doll.” His eyes are looking at you with a plethora of unknown emotions and your heart is beating far too fast for you to decipher them.

“Worth the wait?” You question softly.

“Absolutely. Glad the wait’s almost over though.”

The wait’s almost over.

Maybe it was the warning bell, or your AP Chem teacher’s disdain for tardiness, or your ever-hastening heartbeat and affections for a certain brown-eyed boy, but you missed it.

The one and only slip-up he made all day and you were too lovestruck to notice.

Those six minutes and fifty-two seconds would cost you big time.

“Ahh, there’s my Sunshine. Perfect timing!” Stu swings a lanky arm over your shoulders as you catch up to him in the school parking lot. “I just finished spreading the good news,” He states with a cheeky grin, as if you should have any idea what he’s referring to.

“Oh, well are congratulations in order then? How far along are you?” You press a teasing hand to his stomach, grin growing as he sticks his tongue out at you, moving his hands to your sides and giving you a short tickle.

“Oh, ha-ha. She’s a real comedian today, huh?” He narrows his eyes in jest, “I’m talkin’ about the crazy killer get outta school free bash I’m throwin’ tonight. You’re coming of course,” He tells you rather than asks you, though you’ve never had much luck saying no to Stu.

“Another one of your million dollar ideas I presume? ‘Cause there’s nothing totally birdbrained about throwing a curfew-breaking rager with a masked psycho killer on the loose.” You’re not keen on the idea of showing up to some party with everything that’s been happening, not to mention what Sid must think of it all.

Not that you have a right to act all sanctimonious when it comes to Sidney’s feelings, her relationship with Billy was barely over before you had your tongue down his throat.

“Come on, Sunshine, it’ll all mean nothing without you there.” 

It’ll all mean nothing.

“What’ll mean nothing?” You question gently, careful to hide the inquisitive edge to your query.

Stu’s eyes widen sizeably as he clears his throat, “Just- Nothing. You’re- You’re coming right?”

After that? You’re definitely going. Tonight you’re figuring out once and for all what this boy’s been hiding from you.

You tried to stay away from Billy, honestly. But the second his eyes met yours in Stu’s living room, you knew it was a futile attempt.

The two of you expeditiously wandered upstairs into one of the many vacant bedrooms available in the Macher house, barely closing the door behind you before your lips were melding together.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this all day,” Billy hums against your lips, placing another searing kiss there before moving his way down to your neck. 

Engaging in a moment of passion at a party while an unidentified serial killer roams on the loose may not have been your finest moment but, unintelligently, that was the furthest thing from your mind. Billy’s hands were now sliding delectably slowly underneath the hem of your shirt as his lips continued their pursuit on your neck, that was the sole occupant of your thoughts.

At least it was, until you saw him.

Before you could verbalize the killer’s sudden materialization to Billy, it was too late.

The masked figure hastily removed Billy from your grip, his cold steely blade acrimoniously slashing Billy with ease, ostensibly the knife was even sharper than it looked. Billy’s blood splattered onto your face and you made the split second decision that, this time, a glass of water and a painting weren’t going to protect you.

“(y/n), I need you to remember this part, okay? No matter how scared or tired or hopeless you feel, if you can run, you run! Alright?” You’d heard your dad’s voice more in your head these past few days than you had out loud in months, but at that moment you were simply grateful you’d ever heard it at all.

You didn’t chance a single look behind you, expertly weaving your way through Stu’s house and out the back door. You didn’t glance back even after you’d escaped the house and almost crossed the property line.

Where did all the cars go?

If there were any other choice, you wouldn’t have ran back into the house. But your friends were nowhere to be found and, peculiarly, neither was the killer.

If he was out there looking for you, surely he’d never expect you to go back inside. All you had to do was reach the phone in the kitchen and call 911. The last sight you were prepared to see was the killer’s masked face parallel to your own.

“Well... How do ya like our big reveal, Sunshine?” Stu grins wickedly from behind Sidney.

The deep crimson remnants of the scene you thought you’d witnessed are still making their way down your face, trickling along your tepid skin like raindrops on a car window. You wipe them away fervently, the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you becoming more than you can bear.

It’s not even real blood.

“What is this?” You utter nauseously, gesturing to the foreign substance coating your face.

It’s probably the least important question you could be asking right now but you’ll admit the two of them have put on quite the performance. You’re sickened, but you’re curious.

Billy removes his mask, stepping closer to you and wiping a drop of the mystery liquid from your cheek, ignoring the way you flinch at his touch and placing the finger onto his tongue he lets out a low hum of approval, “’S’Corn syrup, Doll. Same stuff they used for pig’s blood in Carrie.”

Jesus.

Sid freed herself from Stu’s grip, him and Billy now distractedly gazing at you with distinguishable looks of pride. You gesture your head near-imperceptibly toward the entryway, a silent request for her to run while she has the chance. She hesitates, clearly apprehensive about leaving you to fend for yourself with two armed maniacs, but you need her to go. You can attempt your own escape when you know she’s safe.

“You had me fooled,” You start in a desperate effort to maintain their attention, “I mean, I had my doubts- But that whole fake death scene upstairs? You guys really sold it.” Sid discreetly makes her way to the entryway, stopping to look at you with a final questioning look on her weary face. 

Nodding your head near invisibly, you make the devastating mistake of sweeping your eyes over her frame to survey her injuries. It was quick, a nanosecond at most before your gaze was back in front of you, but it wasn’t quick enough to go unnoticed by Billy, who grabs ahold of his knife and has it pointed against Sid’s throat in a matter of seconds. 

Billy and Stu launch into a certifiably demented rant, their words exploding on Sidney in a particularly violent manner.

Why would they have it out for Sid specifically?

Oh.

Billy turns toward you and ends his dialogue without warning when he recognizes the look of understanding on your features.

“You killed her,” You breathe a near sigh of relief, finally understanding the bigger picture, “You killed Maureen and you’ve spent the last- Who fucking knows how long you’ve spent, just planning this- All to torture Sid.” It’s all making so much fucking sense and you can’t believe the amount of time it’s taken you to piece it all together, “You killed Casey Becker too, ‘cause she sits next to Sid in English. You knew she’d see that empty seat every day and be reminded of her mom. Psychological warfare…” 

Billy looks uncharacteristically proud watching you piece it all together, “Got it in one, (y/n).” 

“You’re- You’re sick! Why? Why the fuck would you do that?” Sidney struggles in Billy’s hold as he explains his motive behind her mother’s murder.

Mommy issues. Figures you’d have that in common.

Stu looks outwardly surprised at Billy’s reveal, indirectly confirming your dad’s two person theory. One killer with a personal connection to the victim and the other just in it for the thrill of the hunt. Dad’s gonna be so pissed he missed this, you regard inwardly.

“How are you gonna do it then?” You question the two unjustly handsome lunatics.

“Do what, Sweetheart?” Billy asks benevolently from beside Sid, still holding the tip of his blade to her neck.

“How are you gonna kill me?” You probe.

The question is a test. You’ve got a theory that they didn’t plan far enough ahead to remember that your dad will hunt them down to the ends of the earth after you die, especially since they haven’t seemed particularly keen on covering their trail. If you figured them out this quickly, your dad would have them behind bars in no time.

“What?” Billy asks, all previous traces of jubilance promptly removed from his face.

“How are you going to kill me?” You repeat tauntingly, if your best friends since elementary school were going to kill you like it was nothing, you were going to enjoy the thought of them spending the rest of their lives in florescent orange jumpsuits, “Spare me the gory details but, you do know what FBI stands for, right? Good luck getting away with it this time.” Thankfully, your voice manages to come out far more confident than you’re feeling inside.

Stu moves from beside you to in front of you, gently placing his sizeable hands on either side of your face. Has he always been this tall? Craning your neck to look up at him, the smug smile you managed to plaster on slides off and morphs into confusion as you notice the doleful look on his face. Why is he looking at you like you just kicked his puppy?

“You can’t really believe that,” His voice is so gentle, you could almost forget the sheer lunacy that was dripping from it moments ago, “What did I tell you, Sunshine? I’m never gonna let you go.” He’s looking at your lips like he wants to kiss them, and if you were under any other circumstance, there’d be nothing to keep you from it. He leans in and you almost move to do the same before you hear Sidney’s panicked voice calling out.

“Leave her alone! Please. If you want to kill me then fucking do it already, just let (y/n) go!”

Right, this is an active hostage situation.

Stu let his guard down to console you. Both of his hands on your head means he’s no longer holding the gun, but there’s no easy way to go about gaining control of it. You could kick him in the shins and hope he stays distracted long enough, but your dad’s voice runs through your mind once again, “You can’t reason with a psychopath (y/n), but sometimes you can play along with their fantasy to gain their trust.” You know this isn’t what he had in mind, but you’re running out of options.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you lean up on your toes and kiss Stu with fervour. It’s a good kiss, one of the best you’ve ever had, in fact. There’s a moment, just a split second while you’re reaching for the gun behind his back, that you wish it was for real. He pulls you in deeper and you try to convince yourself that you’re only kissing back to make it believable.

Finally you feel the cool metallic handle of the gun, gripping onto it firmly you muster up the strength to pull back from Stu’s embrace. Aiming the barrel between him and Billy, you can almost feel your heart crack at the look of betrayal painted upon Stu’s face.

No, you remind yourself sternly, they kill people. For fun. They’re not your best friends anymore, they’re murderers.

“Let her go.” You ignore the internal war waging between your heart and your mind.

“(y/n)…” Billy’s not as shocked as Stu. As a matter of fact, Billy’s not shocked at all. He knows you, almost better than you know yourself, “Put the gun down. You’re not gonna shoot us.” His voice is stern, his words a cross between a warning and a command.

He’s right, as usual. The one thing your dad could never get you to do was shoot a gun. You fucking hate those things.

“You’re right, I’m not gonna shoot you,” Your voice is even, but you know he picks up on the slight shake of your hands as you aim the gun toward his chest, “As long as you let her go.”

“That’s not gonna happen, Doll.” He shakes his head, frustration rapidly becoming anger “I’m not asking you again (y/n). Put it down. Now.”

“Or what?” You bluff in a last ditch attempt to maintain a facade of bravery.

Billy’s anger finally reaches its boiling point and he answers your question wordlessly.

It’s different than it looks in the movies. The blood doesn’t trickle out slowly and melodramatically. It spews out like a faucet and it never stops.

You drop the gun after that, rushing to sit at Sid’s side on the floor in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. It was a single deep slash, clean across her throat. The quiet gurgling sounds of blood filling her lungs finally subside after her last breath sounds, and your crimson stained hands remove themselves from her neck.

“Now, are you gonna start listening to me? Or do I have to do somethin’ like that again?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You know what’s wrong with him, with both of them. They’re psychopaths. But you can’t prevent the question from slipping past your lips, you’re desperate for some understanding as to what exactly is it is they intend to gain from their whole plan.

“What’s wrong with me? I told you to put the fuckin’ thing down!” Billy’s still angry, what’s new?  “Shit! That’s not how it was supposed to go.” His agitation fading slightly into discontent. Clearly he wanted to take his time killing Sid. At least you spared her some suffering.

“We gotta get out of here Billy. It’s only a matter of time before the cops show up.” Stu’s voice sounds, entirely indifferent to the scene he just witnessed.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” Billy runs his left hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration, his right hand latched firmly on the gun you dropped after he slit Sidney’s throat, “Shit! Alright, let’s go.” He gestures his head to the door, his eyes haven’t left you since your little standoff, making it clear that he’s talking to you.

“What?” Your voice is laced with perplexion. He can’t seriously expect you to walk out of there with them.

Right?

“C’mon, Sunshine. You already got him in a mood, don’t make it any worse.” Stu’s voice holds that ever present hint of amusement, as if this is just like old times, when you and Stu would make one too many jokes at Billy’s expense and he’d spend the rest of the day sulking.

“I’m not- You can’t actually think I’m going anywhere with you,” You chuckle in disbelief, “You just killed my best friends!” You don’t have explicit confirmation that Randy and Tatum are dead too, but considering the current state of affairs, it’s reasonably obvious.

“We’re your best friends, (y/n). We’re more than that, actually.” Billy kneels down in front of you on the kitchen floor. His anger has finally subsided, he’s speaking in a normal tone, the sticky crimson remnants on your hands serve as the only reminder of his previous outburst.

“That was before-”

“Oh come on, Doll,” He cuts you off, calloused fingers wiping the excess corn syrup from your face, “You ever wonder why the daughter of an FBI profiler couldn’t figure out there was something off with us?” His grin is wicked but his touch is gentle, almost comforting, “It’s ‘cause you didn’t want to see it. You didn’t want anything to get between us, because you feel the same way about us that we do about you.”

You want to tell him to fuck off. That he’s crazy and you have no idea what he’s talking about. But you can’t. Because he’s right, he’s right and he knows it.

Taking your silence as confirmation he continues, delicately tracing your cheek with his nimble fingers, “You love us,” Stu makes his way to your side, smiling with dimples on full display as Billy speaks, “And you can try and deny it, if you want to. But we all know the truth.”

“So what if I did?” You finally find your voice, it’s shakier than you’d like but it’s there, “If you know me as well as you think you do, then you know there’s no way in hell I’d go anywhere with you after this.”

“You wanna know how well I know you?” Billy’s voice is sharp, bitter, you’re getting under his skin again, “I know you, (y/n). I know you’re not afraid of masked killers, or watching your friend die,” He releases you from his grip, standing back to his full height as his words permeate your brain, “I know your worst fear.” He gestures for Stu to follow as he takes small leisurely steps toward the doorway, ignoring the look of confusion and panic on Stu’s face at the prospect of leaving there without you.

Stu reluctantly follows Billy toward the exit, not removing his eyes from your enervated form. When they finally reach the doorway Billy resumes his speech, a contemptuous tone lacing his voice, “Being left here all alone.” He says simply.

This is your own fault, really. Allowing someone to get so close to you, learn everything about you, use everything they’ve learned against you.

You could argue that he’s wrong, but he’s not.

You could go out fighting, but you don’t.

You could stay sitting on the floor until the police inevitably discover you, but you won’t.

Billy walks back over to you, offering you a hand with a mischievous glint present in his eyes, “So,” He starts devilishly, “What’s it gonna be, Doll?”

[strawbxrryneptune]

Level one

Word count: 10k

Cw: pretty tame, just slight descriptions of a dick, play fighting, mentions of almost dying.

This fic and the fics following will contain monster fucking, cucking and threesomes!! If you are not comfortable, try out some of my other works, but if you wish to proceed, remember, sharing is caring.

@miggiisdumb

Next~♡

♡♡

Being a princess was always portrayed as this lush, lavish life. Spoiled rotten with goodies and suitors on you left and right. Everyone respects you, maybe even fears you, and you don't have to worry about a thing cause you have your guards and your secure little tower.

Only one of those things applied to you. The people of the Mushroom kingdom adored you, sending you gifts and bringing their cute little families to meet you. You had moved out of the actual palace ages ago, deciding to reside in a cute little cottage hidden deep in the woods. 

You had some bodyguards, but you kind of doubted their abilities in warding off monsters. You didn't mind fighting by the side though, it built up your strength and courage. 

You knew that you alone were pretty strong, and so were your guards, but it still confused you how you barely got bothered. Occasionally you would hear a growl or roar in the distance, but it was quickly cut off and you would go about your business. 

You finally found out what was keeping the monsters at bay when you ventured out into the forest alone, not wanting to wake up your bodyguard since you were just getting berries.

You had managed to fill up your basket and make it halfway back before you felt a rush of air behind you, only getting a second to blink before you were sent flying, hot breath and saliva tickling your neck and cheek.

You kick and scream, arms flailing when the creature pushes your head down into the dirt.

You start to weaken as your vision swims, struggling to breathe. You go limp, letting out choked sobs when the creature is suddenly ripped off of you. You hear shuffling and roaring, and then the forest goes silent for a moment before coming back to life, birds chirping and wind blowing as you feel someone touch your arm gently. 

You hear a smooth, low voice fussing over you, the stranger lifting you up and assisting you back to the cottage. You try to turn to see their face, but all you can make out is a bright red hat, dark red hair and pretty lips before they're turning you back around.

When you make it to the cottage, you try to once again turn to thank the person, but they're already gone. About to head back inside, you see a bright red object laying on the ground. When you get closer, you realize it's the strangers hat, soft and big with a K patched into it.

You gasped, realizing who exactly this man was.

You came from a long line of royalty, your mother being Queen Star and your sister being Princess Peach. When you were kids, your mother would tell you of an Italian family who were so kind and brave, always looking to serve and expecting nothing in return.

For your mother, it was a man named Papa Mario, and for Peach it was Mario Jr. And Luigi. Around the time you were born, they also were welcoming a baby into the world, and you have fuzzy memories of a little boy with sharp teeth and red hair vowing to protect you even when you were in diapers.

Snapping back to reality, you scurry back inside and throw on a more casual outfit, still in a dress but with more room to move, slipping on some boots and stuffing the hat in your bag.

You take the path down to town, chatting with the residents along the way until you arrive at the Mario Bros Tavern. 

You step inside, greeting everyone and making your way over to the counter, seeing who you assume is the brother, dressed in all green. His name tag reads "Izuku", and you smile at him when he looks your way. 

"Hi, Princess!! What brings you here?"

You dig in your bag and take out the plush hat, holding it in front of you.

"I- Uh…. I found this in the woods, I was jus' wondering if the owner of it was here?"

Izuku lets out a soft, 'oh', and holds a finger up to you to signal you to wait. He disappears into the back room and when he comes back you suddenly wish you were dressed better.

In the forest all you could see what that your "hero" was wearing overalls and red. You didn't pick up on the fact that he was probably almost 7 feet tall, buff and solid with pretty, full lips and a sharp smile, cute spiky hat hair which a deeper shade of red then his clothes, which fit him so perfect it was like he just stepped out of a clothes factory. 

When you met eyes, the stranger gave you a sheepish smile, stepping up to the counter and gently taking the hat from your now trembling hands. 

"Gee, thanks for bringing this back, Prn'cess. I hadn't even realized I lost it."

You search for words, feeling your cheeks heat up when his smile widens, big veiny hands reaching out to shut your mouth, which fell right back open at the feel of his hands on your face.

"I'm, uh, I'm also here to thank you for saving me today…"

"Kiri."

"Kiri. Thank you, Kiri."

He smiles a toothy smile, giving you a silly bow. You giggle, your heart swelling with affection as you realize you could get used to this.

"As a token of my appreciation, I'm taking you on a date in two days, up by the waterfalls."

The red head blinks in surprise before his smile returns, pink coloring his cheeks as he mods vigorously.

"I'll see you then, Princess!!"

♡♡

You trudged through the forest, cursing yourself for putting off your carriage repair. The trail was under construction, so you had to walk you way through the bushes towards the waterfall. 

At least you weren't wearing a formal dress. You were just wearing a simple skirt and a top, some boots and a picnic basket in your hand.

As you stumble along, you start to hear the roaring of the waterfall, but laced within you hear growls and grunts, followed by a shout that sounded all too familiar.

Kirishima.

You pick up speed and come to a clearing, stepping back slightly in shock. 

In front of you is one of the legendary Bowser men, powerful and downright terrifying. They had a tendency to go after princesses, which was the main reason the Mario brothers protected your family. 

This Bowser was the new heir, Bakugou. He didn't have red hair like his father, his was an ash blonde, and his shell was a slightly darker green. He was taller too, looked about 6'9 from where you were standing, but he towered over Kirishima so you figured he was over 7 feet. He was actually kind of attractive, which surprised you given how his dad looked.

Kirishima has him in a headlock, both of them grunting and growling and you would be lying if the sight wasn't hot, but you shook the feeling off and silently marched over to the two, wanting to "save" the red head like he had for you for the longest time. 

Taking a deep breath, you launched yourself on the Blonde's shell with a shout, quickly realizing how stupid this "plan" was when you could barely hold on, being so small compared to him that when he stood up and reached behind him, he could just pluck you up like a bug, holding by the back of your shirt in a big hand. 

"What happened Bakubro? Why'd you stop-y/n?"

"Well well well, wha d'we have here? Is this the pretty little prn'cess yer were telling me about, Kiri?"

You gulp harshly, not even out of fear anymore now that you realized that they were play fighting, and that they know each other. 

No, you were nervous because Bakugou was hot. Sharp canines digging into his bottom as he watched you dangle in his palm, spiky hair leading down to a bushy mullet, bulging muscles and thick thighs hidden by a ratty loin cloth, blonde happy trail-did something just twitch?

You swiftly look back up, looking into knowing vermillion eyes as he licks his lips and shoots you a smirk, his eyes dark and cheeks slightly flushed. When you feel a slight breeze and begin to rock, you realize that hes still holding you. Up in the air. With one hand. 

This is not doing anything good to your manhandling kink. You can already feel your panties start to get sticky as he gently sets you back down, standing straight back up.

You're now level with his veiny thighs, hands starting to tremble from how guilty and horny you feel. The guy you asked out on a date is right there!! Speaking of, you glance at Kiri and he's already looking at youz something dark gleaming within his eyes but quickly hidden when you meet gazes, rushing forward to trap you in a crushing hug, big hands running up your sides.

You blush as you pull back, about to ask if he wants to get going when he jogs back over to Bakugou, who's eyes haven't left you, and tackles him onto the ground, putting him in a chokehold.

You would be pissed, you planned a picnic and its getting dark, the bugs coming out and the air getting sticky but they look so good like that, muscle on muscle, and Bakugou keeps letting out snarls and growls that go straight to your cunt, slicking up your panties as you think about those big, clawed hands your skirt up and plugging you up with his big dick.

You stop mid thought as you remember what they taught you in Princess survival school, in the monster course. Bowsers can smell really really well. Which means Bakugou….could probably smell you right now. 

You look up at him and let out a breath of relief when you see he's still distracted by the Kirishima, writhing to try and get away from the his grip on his neck. With a sharp movement from the blonde, his loin cloth flutters to the side momentarily and flashes you a peak of his really, really fat cock. You almost pass out from how fast blood rushes to your head when you see so many veins and bumps, and he's obviously not even hard. 

All of a sudden, Bakugou takes a deep breath, preparing to let out a roar to startle Kirishima into letting him go, and chokes on air, gasp getting caught in his throat. Kiri is none the wiser, laughing and joking behind him about how hes strongest, but Bakugou isn't paying attention, eyes blown wide and rolled in his head as his tongue slightly lolls out of his mouth, as if to taste what he's smelling.

To taste you. 

His head rolls to the side, eyes trained on the clench of your thighs and flush of your body, and it make his hips jump, red irises locking onto you as drool spills out of his open mouth. 

Kirishima realized how quiet he is, and attempts to peak over and see if he's okay but Bakugou roughly shoulders him off and stomps away into the trees, leaving you dazed and Kirishima confused. 

"That was weird."

[donutloverxo]

Good little girl

*gif is not mine*

Note - Requested by @holacia2 and a part two to good little wife. And special thanks to @gotnofucks for all her help! I'm so overwhelmed with all the love that fic got I hope y'all like this little follow up as well❤❤

Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

Summary - Married life isn't always easy. Will you be able to solve your problems?

Warnings - 18+ only explicit sexual content, younger woman/older man, daddy kink, soft dark!Andy, SO MUCH MISOGYNY, housewife kink, innocence kink, (accusations of) cheating, arranged/forced marriage, spanking, possessive Andy.

Pairing - Mob!Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 4.9k

Masterlist is linked in the bio and the pinned post!

You handed your mother the brownies you had baked, she thanked you, telling you how it was so unnecessary, before Andy placed the wine you had gotten on the way over on the kitchen counter.

“Why don’t you go keep your father in law company, Andrew?” your mom told him. He only nodded before making way to his boss.

“So? How are things going with him?” she asked. “You are positively glowing honey! Do you have any good news yet?”

“Mom!” you gasped.

Over the past seven months you had only seen your mother a handful of times. You were still a bit upset with her for marrying you off to an older man you barely knew, a man who you thought despised you so much he refused to even touch you.

You knew she didn’t really have a say in it. Your father never really valued her opinion, there was no way she would’ve been able to stop it but she hadn’t even so much as tried.

“No, I don’t. And I won’t any time soon,” you huffed.

While being a mother was something you’d like to experience someday, you didn’t know if you were quite ready for it yet. Which was good because Andy didn’t want kids for the next few years either, he had taken you to a doctor to get you on birth control as soon as the holidays were over.

He stated that he wasn’t ready to share you just yet. That he wasn’t sure he wants his kids to be a part of the mob, which you didn’t want either.

“Oh, but you have to, cookie. I need a distraction. Being a mom is all I’ve ever known and ever since you left the house has been so empty.”

“Well, what about daddy?” you frowned. He had never really liked spending time with your siblings or your mother, but to leave her be on her own like that.

“He’s always with Charlotte,” she rolled her eyes. “I would’ve been fine with it, he’s always been like that, can’t expect him to change now, but he brought her here, now, to a family dinner.” She sighed in resignation.

You had heard a familiar high pitched annoying laugh upon coming home, but you thought that to be one of your brothers floozies.

Charlotte, or Cherry, used to be a good friend of yours in college. Before you brought her home for the holidays of your freshman year and she decided to shack up with your married father, who was almost thrice her age. You lost touch with her after that.

“I’m telling you, honey, a kid is a good way of securing your marriage and starting a family. You are young now... but you will grow old someday. Andrew’s a good man... but he is still a man at the end of the day.”

You scoffed at that, “I won’t have you talking that way about my husband! We are already a family, we’re in love each other and he’s nothing like dad.”

She gave you a teary smile, “Young love--is just so innocent and beautiful. You always see the best in people, cookie. I hope I’m wrong about this. Any man would be an idiot to not appreciate you.”

“Andy does appreciate me. And take good care of me, ma...” you trailed off.

He did take good care of you. After the night you consummated your marriage he brought you breakfast in bed. He hadn’t kept his hands off of you for the past few weeks, doting on you any chance he could get, telling you he loved you every chance he got.

But you wondered... did he love you?

The kind of love you’d only ever read about in classical novels. The kind of love you’d dreamt of having ever since you could remember, the kind you thought you once had with someone, but didn’t. You didn’t love Alex the way you love Andy. You were in love with the idea of Alex. You knew Andy now. You knew how kind, passionate and fierce he was, your love for him consumed every single part of you. Where you would literally die for him.

But did he love you for you. Or was he just lonely because it was Christmas. You had avoided taking the tree and the decorations down, begging him, even dropping to your knees and making love to him with your mouth, you didn’t know much but Cherry had taught you that you could get men to do anything for you just by kneeling before them.

While he was very obviously pleased with your passion, returning the favor tenfold, till your thighs burned from his bread and you were shouting for him to stop, he still took the decorations down. He said he wanted to start anew this year. He made a resolution to be the best husband he could.

But you were going to protect your heart this time, hope for the best but still prepare for the worst.

Unfortunately, you had been seated next to Cherry. You found out that your father was living with her now and that while she had hoped he’d leave his wife for her there, but apparently there was no such luck.

“They never leave their wives do they,” she shook her head. “Oh I’m sorry! I shouldn’t be saying these things to you...”

“Its alright,” you shrugged. It would be hard to see your mother be unhappy but there was never any love between your parents. Your mother had learned to live without him and find happiness in other things, and other people, she was just a bit more sneaky about it.

“Well...” you hesitated “how do you keep a man?”

“What kind of question is that?” she giggled. “There are many ways to keep a man but you’ll have to be a bit more specific...”

You ended up changing the subject. The kind of questions you wanted to ask were not suitable for the dinner table, and you didn’t like the way Andy was staring daggers at the pair of you, almost displeased with the two of you chatting.

***

You smiled at him from the passenger seat when he put his hand on your knee, giving it a light squeeze. He had been quite the whole ride home so you decided to speak first.

“Can’t believe Cherry’s like my... step mom.” You laughed out loud at such a ridiculous notion.

“Step mom?” he furrowed his brows, turning his head to look at you.

“Oh I’m just joking,” you waved him off. “Dad would never leave my ma. He’ll move on to another one soon enough.”

He hummed, nodding, “Alright. I was just worried she was troubling you at dinner.”

“What would you have done if she was? Would you swop in like a knight in shining armor and save me from the big meanie?”

“You know I would,” he smiled.

You had asked for a piggy back ride from Andy from the garage to your home, he rolled his eyes and tried to say no but then gave in when you used your princess eyes on him.

He placed you on top of your bed, kissing the tip of your nose, he started unbuttoning his shirt to get ready for bed.

“Andy... um... Daddy?” you corrected yourself instantly.

He liked you addressing him as that whenever you both were alone, he had warned you that you would receive a punishment if you ever failed to comply.

You didn’t know what his punishment would be and you didn’t plan on finding out anytime soon. You’d withhold all affection from him if he ever dared take away the platinum card from you, or lower your allowance as your father had told him to at the dinner, ‘to tame you' supposedly.

But that wasn’t a very good plan... what if he just looked for love elsewhere.

“What is it, honey?” he asked.

“Um... do you think... you would ever take a mistress?” you gulped and prepared yourself for his answer.

“I wouldn’t...” you sighed in relief, “one woman is enough trouble.” he said flatly.

“Daddy!!” you whined, stomping your foot on the floor and folding your hands over your chest.

And he had the audacity to laugh. His laughter at your expense only fuelled your anger. “Do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?”

He finally stopped laughing, “Look at you being a big girl,” he tried to pinch your cheek but you swatted his hand away. “You don’t wanna be daddy’s little girl anymore?” he pouted.

“No... no I do!” you answered all too eager. “I’m sorry...”

“I’m sorry too, honey. I shouldn’t be making fun of you.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” you hugged his hard stomach, rubbing your cheek against his undershirt. “It’s mean, and you promised not to be mean to me.”

“I was just teasing,” he cooed, stroking your hair. And while you knew that and secretly enjoyed it even, you still wanted a serious answer out of him.

“I intend to keep my vows forever. There is just no way I could ever want anyone who’s not you.”

“Really?” you propped your chin on his abdomen, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Promise.”

***

“Um... I’m here to see Andy,” you told the lady sitting outside of, what you had been told was Andy’s office, you assumed her to be his secretary Erica.

You always packed a lunchbox for Andy, always remembering to leave a sweet note for him and he would always call you to thank you for it. You also made sure to have dinner ready before he got home on the nights he wasn’t taking you out on the town. It was just your duty as a good wife.

But Andy had been working way too much the past couple of weeks. Where he would be gone before you wake up and be back when you were already in bed. You knew his job was demanding, working for your father and being a partner in a law firm, the job was like a mistress, stealing your man away...

So you simply decided to make his favorite, food pack it up and come to him to eat it together.

“Mrs Barber! It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you,” she gave you a toothy smile, shaking your hand.

You would’ve been happy, elated that Andy talks so much about you at work. If you hadn’t smelled her perfume. So familiar... you couldn’t quite place it at first but then you remembered.

The night you had slaved away, hoping to profess your love to your husband, when he had rejected you and smelled of chanel.

“That’s a nice scent...” you wondered out loud.

“Oh thank you! I love it as well,” she said, taking in a whiff of the inside of her wrist. “It’s the new chanel one!”

“Hmm....”

You almost didn’t hear Andy calling for you. “What a nice surprise.” He kissed your cheek.

You set the food before him, thinking of telling him what was on your mind.

Was he really so cliché to have an affair with his secretary?

Could you really blame him though? Although you had been married for almost seven months, you were strangers living under the same roof for the majority of them. He wasn’t really cheating... but what if he was still doing it?

“Honey,” he shook you to get your attention. “What’s up with you today? I have a meeting in a few minutes.”

“You’re always working.” You complained.

“Well...” he grinned, grabbing at your thighs and pulling you on his lap, “I have to. If I had the choice I would never come into work, I would stay home forever, between your legs, right... here,” he snaked a hand up your leg and stroked the inside of your thigh. “You would like that wouldn’t you?”

You nodded, “I’ve been so lonely without you.”

He hummed, biting the shell of your ear before speaking into it, “I know, honey. I miss you too. But you do still remember the number one rule right?”

“Yes, daddy. Never touch myself without your permission.”

“And why is that?”

You whined, to embarrassed to say the words, “Because... it’s your... pussy.” You replied in a small shy voice.

“That’s right, sweetheart. It’s mine to do whatever I want with,” he cupped your mould, just to demonstrate what he meant but then frowned when he felt your soft curls and wet slick against his palm.

“You’re not wearing any panties, sweetheart.” He noted, surprised to your boldness.

“Um... I must’ve forgot.”

So maybe you had ulterior motives behind coming here. Your body was used to be doted on everyday now, and to not have his touch for so long was agonising. You had hoped to maybe bend down to pick up a napkin that fell ever so conveniently and flash him, it would work, he would be driven mad.

“Forgot huh?” You nodded in reply as he gathered your slick in his fingers, tracing your labia with them. “That’s too bad, If you had left them on purpose I would’ve cancelled my meeting and fucked you right here. But since it was just an innocent mistake I wouldn’t do that,” he retreated his hand, placing a soft kiss on your hair. “Thanks for lunch.”

***

You were determined to prove your worth to Andy. If he did have a mistress, whether it be his secretary or any other woman, he would forget all about her when he saw how you could do everything for him.

You had went all out today, baking a pie and a four course meal from scratch, lighting up candles, the pink babydoll that Andy had gifted you was under your dress.

He was as always exhausted when he got home, his face visibly lighting up upon seeing you, you took his hand in yours taking him to the couch and making him a glass of whiskey, you handed it to him before kneeling on the soft rug.

“You work so hard, daddy,” you murmured as your fingers worked on unzipping his pants.

He looked at you in confusion, shaking his head, “You don’t have to do that, honey,” cupping your cheek in his plan, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.

“But I want to make you feel good,” you blinked at him.

He groaned, unable to say no when you looked so willing to please him, but at the same time he wanted to do more with you. To cuddle and watch a movie and talk, it felt as if he hadn’t in ages.

“Very well,” he nodded.

With the green signal from him, you licked your lips, tasting some of your minty gloss, taking his length out of the confines of his underwear, you took a minute to simply marvel at the sheer size and beauty of it.

You licked a stripe up the underside of it, suckling at the crown, you remembered that he liked that the best, at least from the way he twisted his hand in your hair, pulling at it till it caused a slight burn to your scalp.

You slurped his precum up before he pushed his hips up till his tip hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him, didn’t take him long to come down your throat.

His neck and cheek covered in a crimson blush, his chest heaving as he threw his head back against the couch.

“You did good, honey...” he rasped. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

He absolutely loved the dinner you had made for him. But when you subtly, because you were raised to be a good lady and wife, tried to coax him to make love to you before bed, he.... rejected you.

Sure, he was kind about it. He told you he was simply tired and would make it up to you. But it was still shocking how a man as insatiable as him would ever say no. You truly didn’t know what to make of it.

***

“Oh... I don’t know about this... it’s a bit too bold for me,” you bit your lip.

“Just try it on! You might end up liking it!” Cherry urged you, putting the bright red lipstick on you without waiting for an answer, “There is nothing more classic than a red lip. Or a red anything. Men go crazy for it.” She told you.

You simply hummed through closed lips as she put some finishing touches on it. “Doesn’t that look nice?” she asked, holding up a mirror before you.

You smiled, it did look different. Maybe different was what you needed. “It’s very pretty. It makes me feel... confident?” Which was strange. Because how could a simple lipstick make you feel confident?

“See! I told you. Confidence is the key to sexiness. Now, let’s talk lingerie.”

***

“Honey, I’ve been waiting for over fifteen minutes,” you heard Andy call out to you from the bedroom.

“Just a minute,” you said, perfecting your edges with a lip brush.

This was something you had never done before. You wore a lot of lingerie for Andy, but most of them were cute pastels or white nighties or babydolls. Nothing like what you were wearing right now...

A sheer black lacy body suit that clung to your body, leaving literally nothing to the imagination.

Top that off with your red lip... you looked like some kind of dominatrix. Cherry told you that most men secretly wish to be dominated. Although you highly doubted your daddy would want anything like that. Or would he?

“Alright, I’m coming out,” you announced, before shyly stepping out, your eyes trained on the floor as you twiddled with your fingers to maybe distract you from your nerves. “What do you think?”

He was speechless. His jaw almost dropping on the floor when he saw you like that. So far from his sweet girl. You were just as much beautiful and sexy, and while it wasn’t something he was used or prefer to he would welcome it if it was what you wanted.

He extended an arm to you, ready to tell you that you were sexy, that he wanted to spend hours worshipping every inch of your body, that he wanted his cock stained the shade of red you wore on your lips, that he was ready to make up for being away for weeks.

Until he saw... that.

He lowly growled your name, making your head snap up to look at him, “What did you do to your pussy?” Because from what he could see, through the sheer material, there was nothing where your pubic hair used to be.

“Uh... I uh... waxed it...” From the tone of his voice you could tell that he wasn’t too happy about it. “Do you not like it?”

“Like?” he scoffed, shaking his head. Taking a seat on the bedding, “C'mere, let me take a closer look.”

Hesitantly, you walked the few strides it took till you were standing before him.

He studied your mould, trying to take the fabric off so he could see it more properly and then tutting when he couldn’t even open the stupid thing.

“Wait, it um... opens here I think,” you interrupted his scrutiny, undoing the zipper that was on your side and taking the suit off of you.

He sighed in resignation when he saw what you had done, making you regret your ever spending so much money and going through all that pain.

He parted your lips apart, running his fingers along your vulva, acquainting himself with this new strange feel of you, “When did do this?” his blue eyes looked up at you.

“Just a couple of days ago. It’s just hair... it’ll grow back in like three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” he scoffed.

You could feel your eyes getting misty. You tried to go all out for him, to please him, be completely naked and vulnerable before him, only to have him get angry at you.

“You don’t like it,” you sniffled.

His furrowed brow softened when he saw you crying, pulling you down till you were straddling his lap, “The question isn’t whether I like it or not,” he explained, his thumb wiping your wet cheeks, “I could... maybe live with it. But I wouldn’t prefer it.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

“But for you to have done this,” he touched your newly waxed skin and almost winced at the smoothness, “You must’ve let someone else see you naked. See what belongs to me.”

“Bu - but they were all women...” you stammered, squirming in his lap as his fingers toyed with your clit.

“It doesn’t matter,” he tutted, pushing two fingers inside you, “Only I get to see you. This is MY pussy. Only I get to decide what to do with it. Do you understand?”

You nodded, holding onto his tshirt as he twisted his fingers inside you. “So-sorry, daddy.”

“No, honey, since you were bad you don’t get to call me daddy. For tonight you will address me as sir. And of course you’ll have to be punished.”

“Punished?” you pouted. “Can’t you just let me go since it was my first strike? I’ll be good from now on I promise!”

“No, you have to learn your lesson. Come on,” you yelped as he manhandled you so you were face down across his lap, “What is your safe word?”

“Unicorns” you giggled. You thought you were so witty for coming up with it. Since he for some reason was jealous of your unicorn stuffie.

He hummed, stroking the soft skin of your butt, “How does twenty sound?”

Your eyes went wide as you gasped, looking at him over your shoulder, “No!” you said.

He didn’t really plan on spanking you... did he? He liked swatting your ass here and there, and truth be told you liked it too. But you had never been spanked or even hit as a punishment.

“Well, if not this then maybe we can make you go a week without cumming.”

Your gasp was louder and even more incredulous this time. You could most definitely take twenty swats, but just the thought of not being able to finish, after knowing what an orgasm with Andy feels like, made you shiver.

“You will count each one, and then thank me for it. You are grateful I’m teaching you, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded.

“Do you know how to count to twenty? Or would I have to teach you that too?” he asked ever so condescendingly as you huffed.

“Of course I do! I was just two semesters away from graduating college!” Never mind that you learned that in kindergarten.

“That’s good. Are you ready?” he asked, cracking his knuckles as he got in position.

With a nod from you he delivered the first slap to your right buttcheek, the sound of it reverberating in the room, his palm stinging slightly as he stroked the skin he had just punished, it was already warmer.

“One, sir. Thank you, sir,” you held onto a moan, it wasn’t half as bad as you thought it would be...

You jerked forward as he unceremoniously hit your other cheek, since you were unprepared for it, and he was much more brutal.

“Tw-two, sir,” you sniffled.

You considered throwing in the towel and saying your safe word by the time fifteen rolled around. Your behind was on fire, while you couldn’t see it, you just knew it was bruised. But you wanted to be good for Andy and it was wrong of you to do something that drastic without his permission.

“Sixteen...” you hiccupped. You could feel your slick running down your thighs but at this point... you just couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Do you want a break?” he asked, taking pity on you.

You nodded frantically, “Yes please! Can you... can you touch me? Down there?” Since the pain in your throbbing pussy was unbearable. If you didn’t receive any attention, you might actually burst.

“Down where? Here?” He had the audacity to play down, while you were suffering, and touch the back of your knee to patronise you.

“No!” you whined.

“Well then you’ll have to be a bit more specific, princess.”

“In my... between my legs... my pussy...”

“Are you sure you deserve it though?” he asked.

You thought about it for a moment, before coming to the conclusion that, “No I don’t. Not until I finish my punishment.”

“That’s a good girl,” he praised, his hand massaging your raw ass as your heart swelled in pride.

“Nineteen, sir,” your mind was hazy. It didn’t even feel as if you were in your reality anymore... it was as if you were floating, while you could still hear and feel him spanking you, for some reason it wasn’t as painful anymore.

“The last one, doll, hang in there,” he said before delivering the last swat.

You whimpered, “Twenty, thank you, sir,” willing your nose with the back of your hand.

Andy collected your weak form in his big string arms, rocking you back and forth in his lap as he kept whispering soft praises in your hair, “My sweet beautiful doll,” he pecked you on your lips.

“Sorry about your pants, daddy...” you said when you realised what a wet mess you had made on him.

He shushed you, “Don’t you worry about that right now. Do you want to take a bath?”

You pouted, your red lip jutting out, “No.”

He chuckled, kissing your forehead, “Do you want daddy to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“We have to be careful about your butt, baby,” he said as he gently placed you on the mattress.

Your head on your pillow, besides your two most trusted stuffies--your unicorn and teddy. Andy only allowed you two in the bed after complaining they made it hard for him to cuddle you. You demanded he buy you a shelf to display them or you would go back to your old room. Which of course made him comply instantly.

You made grabby hands at him, impatient to have him closer to you, but then were glad he took the time to take off his tshirt so you could ogle the wide expanse of his chest, the light scattering of fuzzy hair over it, his numerous tattoos along with one of your name, which marked him as yours forever.

He took a hardened nipple in his mouth while his hand tweaked the other, nudging your legs apart to make room for him, he placed his length at your entrance.

Slowly pushing into you, letting you get accustomed to the size of him. Although your pussy was always so welcoming to him, he knew you often struggled to take him.

You whimpered at him, tears rolling off of your face. “What’s wrong, honey? Does it hurt?”

“No... it’s just so good,” you sniffled.

“Okay, just hold on,” you held onto his shoulders as he slowly fucked in to you.

Your pussy clamping around his length, the soles of your feet digging into his ass, “Can I come, daddy?”

“Of course, baby. You earned it.” He groaned, his hips hammering against yours as you bit his neck, letting out a muffled scream.

You hummed against his neck when you felt his warm release fill you up, he pulled out of you, frowning when he looked at your naked and hairless pussy, dripping with his cum.

“From now on I’ll be picking out your clothes,” he stated, rolling off of you and pulling you into his arms.

“Okay, daddy,” you hummed.

“And no more surprise bikini waxes.”

“Mmm...” If that’s what you had to do to get in trouble and be punished, then so be it. “We’ll see.”

***

Three days later

“Lotion time, doll,” Andy said, pausing the movie you were both watching to go get said lotion.

He had rubbed your lotion on your backside when he spanked you and decided that he wanted to be the one putting your body lotion on you from now on since he had too much fun doing it. He insisted on doing it twice everyday since it was still very cold.

You followed him to the bedroom, lying face down on the bed a he squeezed some on his palms, rubbing them together to warm them up.

You winced just a little, your skin still a bit sensitive, you even had to sit on a pillow the time.

“Will you be going back to work tomorrow?” you wanted to know.

He didn’t like the sadness in your voice, “Yes,” he sighed. He hated leaving you all by yourself.

“I’ll be all alone then.”

“Didn’t you want to go back to college?” He remembered you telling him that your parents forced you to drop out so that you would marry him.

“I do actually. Hate leaving things incomplete... maybe I can even go to a law school and become a lawyer like you!” you perked up.

“You’re not working for your father though, you’re too good for that world.”

“You’re too good for him too.” You said. “Maybe I can work with you.” And you and him could be like a power couple. It would be so exciting.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

[florencwrites]

ignoring is bliss 〚technoblade〛

in which [reader] struggles with her lover's inconsequent affection, and a good talk is unfortunately inevitable; the silent treatment has never worked well with techno.

"I don't know what you want me to say." His back had still been turned towards me at this point, the rake heavy in my hands as I tried using it to steady myself in the muddy stable. He kept loading dirty plucks of hay onto his pitchfork, the thinly lined buttoned shirt he was wearing easily letting his back muscles shine through.

I stood silently behind him, deliberating my words thoroughly. I hated when he acted like this, I absolutely despised him. He was one of the smartest men I'd ever had the pleasure of meeting, however, the second things went sideways conversation-wise he always played it painfully personally. He would start correcting my grammar or suggest synonyms for otherwise satisfactory sentences. "I don't either."

"I guess that marks the end of this conversation." He turned around to dump his gathered muck in the makeshift wheelbarrow Phil had built us. His face was hard, his brows furrowed and his features lax. He seemed indifferent, his attitude scaring me to pieces.

"Tech, please." I tried, putting one of my hands up to gesture for him to stop walking. He was now barely lifting the barrow from the ground, ready to head off to the dump. He huffed, his eyes meeting the floor as he put the wagon down. "You know I hate it when you call me that."

"I'm sorry," I muttered softly.

He ducked to grip his hands around the handles again, lifting it from the ground. His knuckles were white where they held onto the leather-covered grips. "Speak up."

"I want to have a conversation with you, okay? Stop acting so fucking stuck up and talk to me." His shoulder brushed past mine as he exited the stables, my voice was high in emotions, definitely on the verge of breaking with desperation.

He snorted. "I'll listen to whatever you have to say when you've calmed down."

-

"He won't talk to me, Phil." I groaned almost obnoxiously loud, taking a sip of water to wash down both my dinner and my agitation. "You know how he gets."

"All pissy? Tell me about it." He chuckled softly, his forearm shielding his bowl from my sight. He shoveled another spoonful of beef stew into his mouth. Phil and I had never been extraordinarily close, he reckoned Techno and me to be undeserving of each other. A terrible pair. And perhaps we were, at times like this I couldn't help but doubt whether or not we truly were the destined lovers we often thought ourselves to be. "I'll bring him some food later."

I laughed at him, a father at heart. A father to anyone but his actual sons, really. A playful grin on my lips, "You're an enabler, Phil."

-

That night I crawled into an empty bed. One I hadn't even doubted would be just that; empty. He was weak like that, he'd do anything to avoid conflict. Whether that was because he was afraid of what his blinding rage fits would conjure, or whether he was just an impotent coward. Someone who didn't know how to act around uncertainty and immorality and thus resorted to blaming everything on his treacherous temper.

The sheets still smelled of him, I held them to my nose.

There was no reason for us to fight, I hadn't meant to start one. I simply wanted him to realize how different he acted towards me when surrounded by any crowd. He acted so distant it made me doubt not only us, but myself. My heart ached anytime he pulled his hand away from where I tried leaving him a subtle touch. My skin crawled when he no longer referred to me by the mild, but unmissably warm names he had for me.

However, nothing would ever hurt me as much as meeting his eyes in a room of our friends and seeing the love seep from his irises. Physically witnessing his affection turn into nothing short of mere acquaintance.

Everyone knew us. There was no reason for him to act so cold, so distant. Though, I also recognized that perhaps there was an underlying reason. One I simply hadn't thought of, or perhaps one that I couldn't ever imagine. One that he had retained from his troublesome past.

The thing is, it hurt me to think he didn't trust me enough with his reasoning. That he didn't want to tell me about his thoughts. I'd been extremely careful and meticulous with any information he'd granted me, I was sure to never let what he told me change my opinion of him. I vowed to never look at him any different.

So, why could he not promise me the same?

-

There was no point in pushing myself from my sheets the next morning. I knew how long his episodes usually lasted, I wouldn't even have to try talking to him for at least two more days. Normally, I'd try, though. I'd sit in the grass right next to where he was working outside, just talking to him about anything and everything I could think of. Back then I thought for his silence to mean confusion, I thought his swirling mind simply needed a break. That a distraction would do him good.

I sat in the barely-molten grass for hours, never getting a reply.

His smell was constricting my airways slowly, every inhale making it harder and harder to breathe. What if Phil was right, what if he truly didn't love me, or not anymore at least? What if it was all an act to have a warm body to fall asleep next to, to have an extra set of hands around the cottage.

I kicked at the sheets, desperate to get them away from me, to get them from clinging to my sweaty body. I only tangled my legs further into the mess. The bed creaked loudly against the wooden floor of the attic, a gust of wind running through a small gap in the roof.

I shot up, finally being able to rid my body of the sheets. I huffed a few times, the annoyance getting the better of me. I slung my legs over the side of the bed, now just sitting on the wooden frame, letting my eyes wander over the walls. The pictures of us that were tightly tacked to the planks, photos of our favorite pets and our best of friends. Photos of us with Phil and Tommy, and even a stray photo of me and Wilbur, back when we were kids.

My gaze found its way towards the singular window behind our bed, the only one of two walls that weren't entirely slanted. His red robe stood out like a sore thumb in the feeble blanket of slushy snow that had been slowly accumulating over the course of the night. Summer was officially over once again, and the cold would soon make it so we could no longer afford to sleep alone.

He rarely wore his robe outside of special occasions, he usually would simply opt for one of his brown ones. One was trimmed with a thick deer fur, the leather on it sure to keep all frost out. The other one was his summer one, the more dirty one of the two. It was always stained with blood, since it would also be the one he went hunting with. He disliked hunting in the winter, the harsh winds and easily discernible prints made it no fun, according to him. He stacked up during the summer, drying his meats to allow them to be kept safe for months, if not years.

But now he was wearing his red robe, lined with the finest of polar bear fur. The one that had the special compartments for his potions, and the one I had sown a totem into. For good luck. He rarely wore it for any occasion but war.

He pushed himself from the ground, turning around swiftly; the velocity making his cape whisk dramatically up in the wind. His eyes seemed fixated on the ground until they unwarrantedly shot up to the window I was sitting at. Any other day, I would've averted my gaze. Not now. He knew I was staring, and he was allowed to know so. I held my eyes on him until his feet carried him out of sight, into the house. I sighed softly, I felt entirely forlorn without him, without his caring hands and loving eyes. I let myself fall back into the bed, cuddling the sheets once again as I curled away from the entrance. I reckoned he would have to change out of his robe soon, and I didn't want to face him when he did.

-

I heard the front door slam, and as predicted the rungs of the many ladders soon creaked in his hold. The worn, practically ancient, trapdoor was pushed ajar behind me. I couldn't be bothered to turn to meet his eyes. However, instead of quietly changing out of his clothes, I felt the bed dip. He sat on the side of it, much alike to how I had found myself just minutes before.

"I don't like feeling weak." His voice was rougher than usual, it kept its usual monotone aura, but for some reason, it felt more emotional than ever before. He cleared his throat as if to try and mask it, to no avail, "I don't love you any less."

I shifted in the bed, though, he quickly stopped me, "Don't look at me, that just makes it harder."

I obliged. He let out a trembling sigh, taking his sweet time to deliberate his next words, "Sometimes we are outside together and I'm afraid that when they see how much I care about you, they will realize that you make me weak." I stared at the wall, still curled into the blankets. I wanted nothing more than to hold his face, look at him as he spoke. Instead, I had to make do with the pictures of his face plastered on the wood. His pointy, flappy ears and peaked nose. The two sharp-looking fangs set in the corners of his lips, ones that seemed to disappear when he smiled. He didn't like smiling for pictures, I didn't have a single one of the two of us together where he smiled. The only ones that showed his beautiful pearly whites were the ones that had me behind the camera, something I only then realized might've not been a coincidence.

"It scares me to think they could hurt you for loving me, that's why I don't like holding your hand in town." I shot a quick look over my shoulder, his back was slouched over, his head in his hands with his elbows propped on his knees. He wasn't crying, he simply seemed lost."I never realized that what scares me even more is the idea of you not loving me at all."

I slowly crept from under the sheets as his words fell silent. I crawled over towards where he was sat, near the foot-end of the bed. I took one of his hands from where he had rested his face on it and pulled it out of the way.

I snaked my arms around his neck, pulling my body into his. I draped my legs over his lap as I held him. His built arms felt tender against my exposed back, however, he held me tight. He squeezed softly as another quivering breath escaped his lips. We sat in embrace for a while.

"That's all I asked for, Tech." I smiled into his neck. "I just wanted to talk, that wasn't so hard, now, was it?"

"Shut up." He playfully tried pushing me away from his torso, underestimating the power of my cling. "You know I hate it when you call me that."

[andrea-lyn]

look at me, I am old, but I’m happy

(for @christchex because I truly believe her to be #1 Sanders supporter)

The damn kids are keeping something from him. None of them are good liars at the best of times, but every time Sanders shows up when Michael’s friends are around, suddenly they go real quiet. At first, he writes it off as stupid youthful hormone shit. It’s probably something to do with that Manes boy that Michael doesn’t want to talk about. Only, then Alex Manes starts coming around, Michael’s a lot happier, and the weird behavior keeps going. Something’s up, and it’s something Michael’s actively not telling him. “You know, I ought to fire you,” Sanders says one Sunday, when he and Michael are working on the sunflower fields. Michael scoffs, glancing up from the seeding mechanism he’s been working to fix, but he avoids meeting Sanders’ eyes. He’s known this boy since he tripped out of a pod and he knows when he’s about to be lied to. “I’d like to see you try,” he mutters, but his curiosity is sparked. “Why are you bothering to do that when most of my time is volunteered?” “Because you and your friends are keeping something from me.” “We’re not,” Michael lies. “You’re a terrible liar, boy,” Sanders warns, but he lets him get away with it. Just this once, he lets him. Michael waves him off and grabs his bundle of sunflowers to take back to the Airstream. He doesn’t say what or who they’re for, but Sanders knows. It’s the Manes boy, who’s been lurking around and grinning like an idiot all the time. With Michael gone, Sanders is left to consider what it is that’s being whispered about behind his back. There’s enough alien secrets in this town to fill a gossip rag, but Michael’s been fairly honest with him recently, even if he’s been trying to hide how gone he is over his thing with Alex Manes. The truth is this -- he’s an old man. The boy he used to be is a memory and a distant one at that. He’s taken Walt and locked him away behind mountains of bottles and liquor. There’s so much trauma related to those days that he actively works as hard as he can to forget it, and that’s why it takes him so long to realize that maybe he actually knows a bit more than he realizes when it comes to one of those alien secrets.

The secret they’re keeping comes to roost soon after. Well, roost ain’t exactly the word. “They still allow relics like you in this place?”

When Sanders had still been a child and had been happy with Miss Nora and Miss Louise, he’d always recalled their tension around the man they called Jones. They tried to keep it a secret from him then, too, and it’s irritating as hell that history’s repeating it-damn-self. “Relics like me belong more than you do around here,” Sanders scoffs, tossing the wrench into the toolbox. “I’m looking for Michael.” Sanders turns to take in the look of him. He blames his age on the fact that Max Evans never made him feel that icy chill down his spine to spark recognition. All those years with that face in front of him and he never remembered Jones, not until the alien himself busted out and started scaring Sanders all over like he’s a kid. He’s not a kid, though. He’s an old man tired of this bullshit and he’s not about to let an asshole push him around. “Michael,” Sanders says sharply, “ain’t none of your business.” “He’s none of yours either,” Jones says calmly. “Besides, you’re right. It’s not business. It’s family.” It comes back in fits and starts. Miss Nora’s discomfort with Jones’ hand on her shoulder, but the possessive way Jones held onto her. The way Jones had always seemed more occupied with one of the pods. The possessive and keen look in his eye when he’d looked at Walt dismissively, like a human child that Nora took a liking to could never pass muster. There’s only one explanation that Sanders sees, but as far as he’s concerned, it’s crap. “You’re not that boy’s father,” Sanders scoffs. “Or, you might be by blood or whatever alien junk flows through those veins of yours. That boy needed a father growing up and I sure as hell didn’t do the job well enough, but at least I’ve been here. At least I’ve been trying. That’s a hell of a lot more than you can say.” He’s an old and very stupid man, seeing as he knows how much Jones can hurt him. That raised alien hand glowing furiously red is a bad sign, but Sanders decides that if this is how he’s going out, defending Michael is the way he wants to go. “I might have been late getting my act cleaned up, but I still gave him everything I could. I’d die for that boy,” Sanders vows. “For my kid.” Jones scoffs, amused by Sanders’ loyalty like it’s a joke, but then, he always has been an ass, hasn’t he? “Funny you should say that, because today’s your lucky day for getting what you want.” He approaches swiftly, but before he can seal that glowing hand on Sanders’ chest, he just … stops. Sanders refuses to blink. He’s going to stare down his death as long as Jones wants to kill him, which is why he doesn’t notice that he’s being held in place by someone else’s alien powers. “Try,” Michael Guerin snaps at Jones, where he’s holding a bundle of sunflowers in one hand, and holding Jones in place with the other. “You’re not gonna like what happens to you.” Sanders is pretty sure Michael’s bluffing and that when it comes to these two, Michael’s not the one with the upper hand. Still, Jones is playing some kind of long game, because he steps back and lifts both hands up, stepping back and away. “Just two old friends catching up,” he insists, a look in his eyes that says he’s coming back to find Sanders when Michael’s not around. Still, he goes. He goes and he doesn’t look back, leaving Sanders to exhale, slumping over the pick-up truck he’s been working on. “What the hell were you thinking?” Michael demands. “Taunting him like that? He’s an evil dictator! He’s…” “Yeah, yeah, I got the gist decades ago,” Sanders cuts him off. “All I know is what he’s not, and that’s any kind of father to you. Because I might not be the world’s best Dad, but when it comes to it these days, he doesn’t get to swan in and make you feel like you owe him anything. He doesn’t get to make you feel like you belong to him.” This is all getting too damn emotional for him, but he wants to make one thing clear. “I know I didn’t manage the way I should’ve, but if anyone’s a father to you these days, it’s me.” With that said, he gives a firm nod, and hopes that he’s not going to do anything embarrassing like start crying about it. Well, he might not, but Michael’s struggling to keep it together, by the looks of it, so maybe that’s exactly what it is he needs to hear. “What the hell are you doing back here anyway?” Sanders grunts, when the awkward silence drags on too long. Michael clears his throat, gesturing to the Airstream with the flowers (and conveniently wiping at his nose). “I forgot some papers that I wanted to go over with Alex,” he says, “Lucky I did, or you would’ve been alien dust.” “I got a few tricks up my old sleeves,” Sanders promises, even if he doesn’t have them yet. “So. You and Alex Manes, huh? You ready to admit to me that it’s a thing yet?” Michael wrinkles his nose, but he’s clearly not thinking about Jones anymore, so Sanders considers it a mission accomplished. “How about you start worrying about how much of a thing it is when Alex needs to come get permission from my Dad to marry me,” Michael quips, and he sounds free and happy and brazen and goddamn high. It’s the most that Sanders could ever hope for. “That likely to happen anytime soon?” Michael shrugs, ducking back out of the Airstream with the papers. “You know I don’t do things slow.” “Don’t I ever,” he mutters. “Just warn me before I got alien grandchildren running around the damn scrapyard, will you? The place needs to be alien-proofed.” The look of sheer glee on Michael’s face settles something in Sanders’ chest. He knows he’s happy. He knows he’s settled. He might have missed too many damn years when he was younger, but at least he’s trying now. “Go on,” Sanders encourages. “Go be with your friend,” he teases. “You gonna be okay?” “I’ve survived worse,” Sanders promises. “Now, get,” he insists, and watches Michael leave the scrapyard, off to woo his paramour. As for him? Well, he’s got a hell of a long drive ahead of him to get to the reservation if he wants to pick up some pollen, but after tonight, Sanders figures he ought to protect himself. He’s got a family to worry about, after all. 

[leviiattacks]

Could I request a Canon levi drabble? He realises he’s in love, confesses, then thinks about how he feels guilty for loving the reader

author note :: this was super quick but here u go !! i’m working on a long fic rn which is why it may not be great my brain hurts from all the writing i had to do for the fic 😞 ANYWAYS, shy levi ahead,,,, :-(

word count :: 1.2k

levi is super shy around you. he has no idea what to do, he has no idea what to say, he’s always stumbling over his words. it’s SO obvious that erwin and hange are able to decipher the meaning behind his unsual body language in a matter of seconds

might i add he’s always trying to subtly get your attention or at least look presentable

sometimes he leans against walls with one hand to look cool but one day he misses the wall completely and falls face first into a patch of mud

not a great experience because he sees you giggle at him

levi just ends up ignoring you and avoiding you a lot in an attempt to shake what he feels away but that’s another thing about levi when he’s in love. his infatuation is stubborn and unfading. unless given a valid reason to stop liking you he literally can’t force himself to stop how he feels

but sometimes there are opportunities where he does have to speak to you and despite avoiding you he finds himself surprisingly running into you more often than he thinks is humanely possible??

he’s in the kitchen making a cup of tea and suddenly you’re there to fetch some water.

he’s in the courtyard teaching some younger cadets and you happen to pass by looking for one of your blades you accidentally left behind

like he genuinely does not understand how he’s able to run into you this much because it makes no sense

apart from that he ends up taking a keen interest in your hobbies. he’ll try to understand why you enjoy specific things because the smile that paints your face is always so bright

you have this thing for strawberry jam and he’s never got why you enjoy it so much really ???

frankly he finds it to be so sweet to the point it’s sickening to digest

but that doesn’t stop him from buying some whilst in town and placing it in front of you one day

you look between levi and the jam jar a little confused

“you’ve been working hard and i accidentally bought this and i think you like strawberry jam so take it. i don’t want it.”

his explanation is UNBELIEVABLE because it’s a big fat lie but despite everyone else in the room being able to see through his facade you nod meekly and accept it with a grateful smile

after the jam incident everyone knows about how he has to feel but even if they do they don’t gossip about it when he’s around

now,,, levi is really in touch with how you feel because most of the time the way you feel impacts the way he feels. if he sees you laughing at dinner his mind is at ease but if your head is drooped downwards looking anywhere but up he makes a mental note to talk to you later

one day at dinner he sees jean whisper something in your ear and you laugh so hard you have to apologize to those around you for creating a disturbance

he burns in slight jealousy because he wants to know what’s so funny

that’s when his resolve starts slipping. he notices he’s stopped trying to ignore you and instead he’s gravitating towards you

and he hates it

vulnerability scares him so he stays away for a while until the next time you pull him in with your magnetic smile

once again, levi’s feelings are stubborn and unwavering.

he’s protective. always checking where you are in the formation. he can’t have any biases ruining expeditions so he never changes your position (despite wanting to on a number of occasions)

however, when the corps regroup he always looks around for a second ascertaining whether or not you’re in the vicinity and safe

one time he noticed you weren’t around and only relaxed when someone informed him you were with hange

he’s confusing when in love. hot and cold. left and right. dark and light. every move he makes he’ll make another that makes no sense. it’s because he’s never certain of what he feels. all he knows for certain is that he’s crashing hard and whatever is going on will end up in disaster if he doesn’t address it

it really does take him a long time to finally become mentally prepared enough to confess to you but he realises he has to push himself to do it otherwise he’ll only end up distracting himself and making a fatal mistake on the battlefield some day

he’s very nervous about it because he predicts you’ll reject him

“i’m interested in you.”

and when you don’t understand what he means by that he has to rephrase it a number of times before you do get it

“your actions concern me.” you still don’t get it

“i think we are jigsaw pieces.” again no nod of understanding from you, instead you ask him if he’s lost a puzzle piece and jokingly you suggest that sasha could have ate it

“if you were cold i would give you my jacket.” at that you say thank you but still don’t get what it is he means

he just doesn’t want to say it outright. he thinks it’ll be unbearably awkward.

but eventually he gives in and goes for it anyway

“fuck, what i’m trying to say is that i like you and i care for you...in a romantic way.”

he’s shocked when you beam, as cheerful as ever you say you like him back. he’s totally prepared for refusal so he just kinda stands there like a statue unsure with what he should do next

you take the lead moving to hold his hand with yours and when your fingers intertwine with his something in that moment makes levi feel whole. he feels full and happy.

from then on everything is smooth sailing, you and levi are happy but as the months pass and the tensions rise within paradis, levi’s guilt kicks in

he feels guilty for loving you and having the opportunity to have you love him back

there’s constantly a seed of worry in his stomach, it forever weighs him down and many of his sleepless nights are spent thinking about how he’ll have to let you go

after all, everyone he’s ever loved has had to face death’s door before him.

his fear gets the better of him and he even reaches the point of rehearsing what he plans to say to you in the case of a breakup

but this is levi we’re talking about and despite knowing you’re safer the further away you are from him he still latches onto you like a lost child

he thinks for once everything will be different. that you’re a positive sign. he chooses to have faith you make it out of this alive with him.

because although you could die you aren’t dead yet.

and that’s all that keeps his fiery hope steady.

he’s the candle and you’re his flickering flame of hope and for as long as he stands he vows he’ll keep you burning alive.

[aithorin]

You’re Mine - All Smite x Reader (18+)

Summary: After trying to leave town, Smite shows you exactly who you belong to

Warnings: Villain AU, Villain!All Might, Possessive Behavior, Dominance, Mildly dubious consent (i.e. you don’t explicitly say yes), Vaginal fingering, Unhealthy relationships, Unplanned pregnancy

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25469632

Very much NSFW!

Stepping through your front door, All Might expected to hear the usual snide remark about how rude it was to barge into someone’s house unannounced float down the hall, but all that greeted him was silence. Closing the door behind him, he walked further inside and called out your name, but got no reply. The apartment was well and truly empty. Arriving in the living room, All Might let himself sink onto your couch, a creak emitting from it at his weight, and soon let himself become preoccupied with his thoughts.

Something didn’t feel right. You should have been home right now. After all, he knew what your schedule was like. Not because he cared about you or anything though. He just kept himself up to date on your life, so that he wouldn’t waste his time coming over here if you were busy. He usually only came over to blow off some steam, so coming at a bad time would only make things worse. Frustrated and horny were two emotions that did not mix well with All Might. As such, he kept himself in the loop on your daily life. It was a purely selfish motivation. Except, it had apparently backfired since you weren’t here. He could feel the beginnings of frustration crawl up his spine at your absence mixing with something he refused to name (though if he really examined it, the feeling would probably be identified as worry), and with a growl escaping from his lips, he jumped up off the couch to see if he could find out where you had gone.  

Beginning in your bedroom, the first thing he noticed was that the place seemed emptier. To the left, the closet doors stood wide open with a few clothes barely holding onto their hangers while the majority of them held nothing. The knick knacks and stationary that dotted your desk were nowhere to be seen. Looking toward the back, he saw that your nightstand had been completely cleared as well. Your room looked like something out of a hotel rather than a space you lived in. Observing your bedroom, All Might knew you had haphazardly packed and left to go somewhere in a hurry, but looking even closer, he realized that it looked like you had no intention of coming back. Nostrils flaring in anger, he stewed about what could have possibly made you leave so quickly, leave him so quickly. Didn’t you know that you belonged to him? It was almost laughable that you thought you could leave. You were his. His toy to do with as he pleased, and you should have known better than anyone that he was very possessive of his toys.

Turning around, he stomped in the direction of the bathroom to continue his search. First, he was going to figure out why you had left. Then, he was going to find you and drag you back if he had to. And finally, he was going to fuck you so hard you wouldn’t ever think of leaving again.

Walking into the bathroom only confirmed what he already knew: you had fled, but from what he still had no fucking clue. The space was completely bare, all of your toiletries gone. He was about to leave when he caught sight of a little trash can placed next to the toilet. Taking his time to examine it, the pieces of the puzzle behind your disappearance began to click in his head, and the second it did, annoyed anger turned into full-blown rage. For there, nestled right at the top, was a plastic stick with a plus sign on it. He vowed right then and there that he was going to make you pay, and without another glance, stormed out of the apartment, intent on finding you immediately.

_________________________

Nervously glancing down at your watch, you ducked into a nearby alley, using it as a shortcut to get to the train station. With your suitcase bouncing on the gravel behind you, you chanted in your head, “5 more minutes. 5 more minutes, and I’ll be at the train station. 5 more minutes, and I’ll be on the train, heading away from him. 5 more minutes until I start my new life. 5 more minutes until I’m-we’re safe.”

Taking deep breaths to calm yourself, a sigh of relief escaped your lips as you spotted the other end of the alleyway. Right around the corner was the entrance to the train station. With each step, your surroundings grew brighter and a bounce in your walk seemed to grow with it. You could almost taste the freedom. One more step and you’d be out-

“And where do you think you’re going?” a familiar voice growled, yanking on your arm to tug you back into the shadows of the alley.

“Damn, so close. I really hope he doesn’t kill me.” you thought.

Turning around, you craned your neck up to meet All Might’s infamous blue eyes. Fuck, he looked really angry. It’s ok, you could talk yourself out of this.

Putting on a brave face, you steeled yourself to lie your way through this encounter. It didn’t matter how you felt about him. You had to get him to let you leave after this-and in one piece. “Hey All Might! Didn’t I tell you? I have an out of town business meeting this week and-”

Cutting you off, he leaned down to get eye level with you. “DON’T lie to me girl. I saw your apartment. You have enough shit in that suitcase to last you for a lifetime. Now I’ll only ask once, What. Are. You. Doing.” he spit out.

Taking a moment to study him, you tried to gauge his behavior. He was angry angry-like angrier than you had ever seen him before. Did-did he know? You thought to yourself momentarily before mentally shaking your head. No, there’s no way he could know. I’ll just play it off. Tell him a half-truth and push him away to distance him from me. Let’s hope he doesn’t snap my neck over it.

Raising your half-lidded eyes to meet his, you shrugged simply replying, “I’m leaving.”

“Why?” he bit out.

Stepping back to place some distance between you two, you crossed your arms as you began to get irritated with him. “Does there have to be a reason? Maybe I just got tired of your annoying ass and decided to leave town since I’ll have to go god knows how far to get you to leave me alone.” you scoffed.

Taking a step towards you to close the distance you had tried to create, he snarled “Watch your tone girl. I’m already upset with you. You do not want to make me angrier. Don’t forget who you’re talking to.”

Beginning to circle around you, like a bird eyeing its prey, he let out a tut. “But back to the matter at hand...we both know that bullshit excuse of yours isn’t true, so why don’t you be a good little girl and tell me the real reason.”

Stiffening at his words, you tried to deflect. Still feigning nonchalance, you rolled your eyes, letting out a sigh, “Why does it even matter to you? I’m just your fuck buddy, sometimes an occasional person to talk to. So why the fuck do you even care what I do?  Either way, I’m replaceable. Just go find another hole to stick it in, and I’m sure you’ll be juuusssst fine.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, All Might whipped his head around to stare at you, giving you the most scathing look you had ever seen. Harshly grabbing a hold of your arms he brought you close in a grueling grip before hoisting you up. Before you could even think, he jumped into the air, the force behind it rattling the buildings in the alleyway. Moments later, you found yourself on the balcony of your apartment, still held tightly in his arms. Dropping you down, he nodded towards the back door.

“Open it.” He stated in a tone that left no room for argument.

Digging out your keys, you silently followed his commands. As soon as you slid the door open, he bent down to go inside. “Follow me. NOW.” He demanded.

Filled with anticipation, you trailed along behind him until he came to a stop at your kitchen table. Seeing what was on the table, your mouth immediately went dry. At your reaction, a sneer started to make its way across All Might’s face.

“It matters to me because of that,” he stated, nodding his head towards the test on the table, “Mind explaining what it is?”

You could still fix this. So he knew you were pregnant, big deal. You just had to convince him that it wasn’t his. Swallowing nervously, you let out a shaky laugh. “That’s what’s got you so worked up? That has nothing to do with this. It’s not even yours. I told you, I just didn’t want to see you anymore, so I left.”

Advancing towards you, he backed you up against a wall before leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Do you take me for a fool girl? I’m the most powerful man in all of Japan. Are you really so naive to think I don’t keep tabs on you? You should know by now that I don’t share, so I know for a fact that my dick’s the only one that’s been in your dirty little cunt since we met. I warned you not to lie to me before, so if you know what’s good for you, I’d suggest you drop this little act and tell me the truth.”

Now you knew it was too late. He definitely knew it was his and he was angry. At the fact that it was his baby or that you had lied you didn’t know which. Either way though, your charade was over. You had no idea what was going to happen now. With tears shining in your eyes, you defiantly lifted your chin up to glare at him. “Fine, I’m pregnant and it’s yours, is that what you wanted to hear Toshinori?” Softening your voice to a whisper you repeated, “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Letting out a watery laugh, you shook your head muttering, “I don’t even know why it matters. We both know that you have absolutely no desire to be a father. You’re a villain for god's sake! A child won’t fit neatly into your lifestyle. Hell, I don't even fit neatly into your lifestyle now. We barely know each other. I’m just a quick fuck to you. That’s all this has ever been and it’s all that it needs to be.”

Looking at him directly in the eye, you pleaded, “Just let me go, and you’ll never see either one of us ever again. If you let me leave here safely, I promise that you won’t ever hear from me. It’ll be like we never even existed to you.”

Letting out a laugh, All Might looked down at you with a smirk, “Let you go? There’s no way in hell I’m ever letting you go, especially now. Not that I was ever planning on it, but this little development,” he took a moment to lower his eyes to your stomach, “just became my insurance. You’re mine… forever now.”

He could see it now. Coming home to you every night. You, greeting him at the door with a child on your hip. Thinking about it caused something to twinge in his chest. Normally the thought of a family and children brought an overwhelming disgust to the forefront of his mind, but the thought of a family with you brought forth a wave of completely opposite emotions. He told himself that it was only pride at the thought of you fat with his kid, yet there was an underlying emotion of happiness as well.

Meanwhile, you were going through a series of emotions trying to decipher what he meant exactly with his words. It was always so hard to tell what All Might was thinking. Most of the time he was very flippant during your interactions, choosing to tease or flirt with you during your time together. He could never be serious with you about anything (unless it was about sex), so you had always assumed you were some sort of fling since he never bothered to get to know you. So what exactly did he mean by “forever?” Did he mean it, or was it just some sort of way of feeding into his ego? You could admit that you did have fun together. He loved to tease you, (he considered finding new ways to push your buttons a sport) and he did come see you at least once a week, often choosing to stay at your place for the night rather than leave. But you never thought he meant anything by it. His mood could switch so easily that you had learned to never read too much into his actions.

Despite his somewhat dismissive attitude towards you though, some part of you had fallen in love with him during the course of your relationship (against your better judgement) and you treasured every moment you spent with him. God knows you should’ve never gotten involved with him, but being with him just felt right. From the moment you met him, you knew that nobody else would ever make you feel the way he did. Although you had feigned indifference, claiming you were nothing more than fuck buddies, your relationship with the infamous villain had moved past that some time ago. You had just never known what it had moved into until now. His declaration seemed to indicate that he did care about you in a way that extended past a fuck but you couldn’t seem to wrap your head around the fact that he cared about anything other than himself. Almost certain you were dreaming, you voiced your thoughts aloud.

“Care about you? Of course I care about you, why else would I have wasted so much time on you. I swear you ask the stupidest questions.” He scoffed, “How many times do I have to tell you that you belong to me and only me? Maybe it’s about time I just showed you instead.”

Somehow he stepped impossibly closer to you, placing one arm above your head to keep you thoroughly trapped in place. Standing so close, you could feel the hardness of his dick pressing into your thigh. Breath held in anticipation, you silently watched as he traced the pad of his thumb across your lips with his free hand. Shoving the top of his finger into your mouth, he looked down at you commanding you to suck on it and you instinctively started to swirl your tongue around it. Watching you appreciatively, he let out a hum as he declared, “This filthy mouth of yours is mine.”

Pulling his finger out of your mouth, a string of saliva followed after it. Eyes glued to him, you watched closely to see what he would do next. Your deep breaths echoed throughout the room, but it was blocked by the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. You could feel your pulse beginning to pick up as tingles of desire started to dance across your flushed skin. Body tense with excitement, a heat started to spread throughout your body heading straight for your core at his touch.

All Might continued carving a path down your body, ghosting a hand over the length of your neck and coming to a stop at your breasts. “These are also mine.” he growled out, giving them a squeeze as he gave a light tug on one of your nipples. At his touch, a breathy groan escaped your lips as a wave of desire caused a fresh layer of wetness to coat your pussy. Your hardened nipples ached for more attention, but before you could even blink, his touch was gone, causing you to whine in protest. All Might paid you no heed though, much more interested in making his toward the final stop in his exploration of your body.

Skimming over the flesh of your thigh, his hand slowly started to climb their way up your skirt. Unconsciously, you spread your legs to allow him better access, causing a smirk to make its way upon his face at your display of eagerness. Finding the outline of your panties, he trailed a lone finger up your slick before gently flicking at your nub. Withdrawing his hand, he took a long inhale of your scent before raising the digit up to his mouth to lick it clean. Smacking his lips, All Might fixed a roguish grin upon you before leaning down to lay his palm flat over your pussy, his thumb beginning to rub slow circles around your clit. “And this ….this tight little cunt of yours belongs solely to me. You belong to me”

With that, he leaned over to capture your lips in a kiss, forcefully pushing his way in to deepen it as much as he could. His tongue smothered yours in a play of dominance, but you met him head on, arching your back into his chest in an effort to raise your head for a better angle. Seconds later, All Might abandoned his task of keeping your arms trapped in favor of using his hands to rip your shirt off. Never once letting go of his lips, you shrugged out of the remains of your shirt as well as your bra. Chest now bare, All Might seized the chance to lavish attention upon your breasts. Lifting you into his arms, his lips began to move away from yours, causing you to whine in disapproval. The whine soon transformed into a gasp as he kissed his way down to your breasts before taking one in his mouth and cupping the other in his hand. Swirling his tongue around the tip, he began to gently nip and tug at your bud all while fondling the other held in his hand. Every movement elicited a moan from you, and you took the opportunity to thread your fingers through his blond locks, tugging on them to bring him closer.

Soon though, it wasn’t enough. Your core felt hot as your body began to hunger for him. The beginnings of a fire had been stoked and soon you were consumed by it. All you could sense was him. The sensation of his lips upon yours. The feel of his hands on your skin. But it wasn’t enough. There was a want, no-a need, for All Might to touch you more. To touch you there. Only he could satiate this impossible, overwhelming craving. Your fingers clenched around his hair as your pussy throbbed from desire.

”Ple-please I-I need more,” you breathed.

Lifting his head to meet your eyes, All Might asked, “Mhm what was that princess? You want me to touch you?”

Diverting his attention from your chest, his fingers once again made their way under your skirt, teasing the edge of your pussy in long, languid strokes.

“Look at that, so wet, and it’s all for me. Are you really that desperate?” He taunted.

Pushing your panties aside, All Might slipped a finger inside of your cunt eliciting a gasp from you at the sudden stretch. Teasing your clit in small circles with his thumb, he slowly began to thrust his index finger in your pussy, twirling his finger around inside of you to toy with you even more. Every movement drew out a moan from you as he worked you open with expert ease, knowing exactly what to do to make you crumble into the palm of his hand. Not long after, he added a second digit and increased the pace, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel yourself on the precipice of release when suddenly All Might’s fingers abruptly slowed down, reeling you back and refusing to let you fall. Tears of frustration sprung to your eyes as the coil within you ached for release. All Might continued to torment you, building up the speed of his thrusts, bringing you to the brink of an orgasm, like a wave crashing onto the shore, but every time he sensed you were about to come, his touch would disappear without ever allowing release. Every time he denied you, the coil inside you wrung impossibly tighter, so tight that it felt like it was burning you from the inside. Your head spun from the need for release as tears leaked from your eyes. Beads of sweat decorated your brow as your breathing morphed into a heavy pant from the physical exertion All Might was putting your body through. Letting out a cry of frustration, your body bucked against him, looking for some much needed friction, but All Might only let out a tut at your miserable state.

“What do you want, girl? I want to hear you beg.” He sneered at you, flicking at your clit.

“Please-please let me come A-All Might.” You pleaded, letting out a moan as his fingers sunk inside your pussy.

“You know that only good girls get to come. Good girls who know who they belong to. Now tell me (y/n), have you been a good girl?”

“Y-yes, I’ve been a good girl. I promise to always be a good girl. Just please let me come.” you begged, mind hazy from his ministrations. At this point, you would say just about anything to please him if it meant that you would get to come.

“Really?” he says, sounding surprised, “Because good girls know who they belong to, and it seems like you forgot that today. I will only ask once, who do you belong to y/n?”

His tone turned impossibly dark, and with it his fingers plunged even deeper into you, giving you hard thrusts in time to his words.

“Y-you. Only you,” You groaned out.

“I want to hear you say it.” Pressing his face against your ear, All Might’s warm breath hit your face as he harshly whispered, “Who do you belong to?”

“I belong to you All Might!” you cried out as he scissored his fingers inside you at the exact same time.

At your reply, a pleased smile spread across his face as he purred out, “Good.”

With that, his fingers gave a brutal thrust, sinking into your cunt so deep they seemed to physically push you over the edge, the coil inside of you finally springing free. At having been denied so many times, your orgasm flooded over you, the force of it stealing the breath from your lungs. You gasped as your cunt clamped hard around his fingers, your orgasm so violent that you started to see stars. White hot waves of pleasure crashed over you, wracking their way up your spine, clouding your vision as your body trembled from trying to keep up. Your senses became numb as a sea of ecstasy engulfed your body. The only thing you were aware of was the pleasure coursing its way through your body, and you voluntarily let yourself get lost in the sensations, letting it completely consume you. You barely even noticed your body crumpling against the wall, completely giving out. Strong arms caught you as large hands wrapped around your back to brace you.

After what felt like hours, you finally began to descend from the high of your orgasm. Slowly recovering, your limbs shook as your senses came back to you. When you regained your vision, you raised your head to meet All Might’s eyes, your breathless, panting gasps being the only sound to fill the air. With his anger finally abated, a gentle, calming peacefulness filled the room, the likes of which you had never experienced with All Might. He kept his eyes trained on you, studying you in a way that you had never seen. It looked like he was looking at you for the first time, seeing you in a new light. Without even seeming to realize it, he raised his hand to rest his palm against your stomach in an almost (dare you even say it) tender way. Having never seen him behave in such a way (and doubting you would ever see it again), you held your breath, savoring the moment.

All too soon though, the moment broke. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, All Might’s face regained his usual wicked smile as he stood up.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson, princess.” He stated, beginning to make his way toward the door. “Try anything like that again, and I won’t be so nice.”

Opening your front door, he turned back once more, pinning you down with his blazing blue eyes. “I have some business to attend to now, but I’ll be back in awhile. I’ll be visiting more often to check up on our little development. Expect me soon.”

Then, without another word, he was gone.

Staring at the place he had stood moments ago, your head spun as you tried to make sense of everything you had learned about the man from this encounter. You knew that you would never be a normal family (you were having a baby with the number one villain after all), but in his own sadistic, overly possessive way it seemed that he cared.

If you were smart, you would’ve left him a long time ago. But in reality, that option ceased to exist the moment you met him. There was no going back after meeting a man like All Might. Really though, you found that you had no desire to go back to your life before him. Something about him drew you in and refused to let go. You knew that what you felt for him was love, but you were much too scared to ever admit it outloud. Strangely though, you found comfort in the fact that something about you seemed to attract him towards you in much the same way, as he always came back. And if tonight was any indication, it seemed that he had no intention of letting go. You weren’t so naive to assume he loved you in the traditional way, but deep down, so deep he would never fully understand it himself, there had to be a small fraction of him that loved you as you loved him. You knew you would never have a perfect relationship with him, hell you doubted that you would even have a healthy one, but maybe, just maybe things would be alright in the end.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

A/n: IM SORRY THIS TOOK ME FOREVER, also I’m sorry if this sucks.

The town always held an event for fathers and sons. Something that Oscar never liked, he was seven now and he knew that this was another thing that he had to sit out on. While his cousin Camilo did his best to comfort him, it still didn’t help the way he was feeling.

Watching Felix leave with Camilo, Oscar brought his knees to his chest though it was his uncles voice that broke his thoughts. Looking up he spotted Agustìn standing on one of the steps giving the boy a large smile. “Ready to go Chiquito?”

“Huh?”

“Well now that you are older, I can take you to this event. If you do not mind that is.”

Oscar’s eyes went wide though a smile bloomed on his face as he jumped up. Nodding his head head quickly he grasped his Tios hand. “Yea!”

Laughing, Agustìn instead lifted Oscar up as he carried his nephew down the steps nearly tripping on the way.

Watching the two, you turned to give Julieta a smile. “Thank you”

“You don’t have to thank me y/n.He wanted to do this.”

“Let’s just hope they won’t run into any bees.”

Looking at all the fathers with their sons, Agustìn smiled down. “What shall we do first?”

“Fishing?!!”

Laughing, he nodded his head pulling the boy along once he placed the boy down.

Oscar smiled up at his uncle as he tugged him towards the boat, it started off well. Until Oscar reeled in a large fish, that once he pulled on the boat managed to smack his uncle right in his face which lead his Tío to rock the boat as the two fell in the water.

Agustìn gasped frantically swam over to Oscar, the man’s cheek was red and swore but he didn’t care. He was to worried about the boy, pulling him onto his back he was surprised to hear the child was laughing. Letting out a small chuckle himself he quickly swam back to shore, Felix placing a towel over the two.

“How did you manage to topple a boat over?”

“Haha I don’t really know….but we did have fun right Oscar!”

“Ya!”

“Now how about we check out the next activity.”

Watching his Tío, Oscar tilted his head to the side as the man carried a soccer ball towards him, while other fathers were tossing a ball to their sons he instead chose a soccer ball. Oscar just prayed his Tío wouldn’t hurt himself.

“Ready for some fun!”

“Yea”

Nodding his head, Agustìn placed the ball down in front of the boy. Taking a few steps back, he crouched a little nodding to his nephew. “Now kick the ball !”

“Okay.” Smiling, Oscar kicked the ball towards his uncle though the boy watched in horror as the ball flew through the air crashing into a bees nest. Both of them looked at each other as the next hit the ground. A group of bees swarming out , only to circle the man and chase after him.

“Run! Tío Agustìn! Run from the bees!

Looking up at his Tío, Oscar took his none swollen hand. Even though the man was hurt, he didn’t stop playing games with the other father and sons.

Oscar really enjoyed the food eating contest, though the other games were fun too. He didn’t think about his father or how sad his mother got. He got to have fun with his kind Tío, and play with the other kids his age.

“Did you have fun today Oscar?”Agustìn, the man’s face was swollen but he was still smiling at the boy.

“I did Tio Agustìn…but I should get you to Tía Julieta!”

“I…see your point.” Patting his nephews head, with his bigger hand, Agustìn nodded his head letting out a light chuckle.He was happy that he was able to make the boy laugh and vowed to himself to make this little boy happy.

“What do you say we play some catch a bit later.”

“Only if you don’t get hurt.”

“I’ll do my best.”