#[ destroys a cellphone because he has no idea what the fuck that is ]

[mwalani]

The Vees X Reader using the silent treatment

︴Notes - Hey everyone!! This was an idea that a friend of mine gave me, and I needed to write because she was beginning to like the Vees so like 😁😁 anyways I hope y'all enjoy it!

︴Content - Headcanons of Vox, Velvette and Valentino X Reader who used the silence treatment after a fight.

Vox doesn't like to have the feeling his the wrong one, so after fighting with you he expects you to be the one reaching out to him.

But you just don't.

Vox waits for you the whole day, and you never show up to even say a good morning!

When he finds you watching TV, he goes to talk to you, but the fact that you ignore him makes Vox freeze.

I mean, he was never really ignored, and the fact you, as his partner, did this was like denying candy to a spoiled child.

He spent a whole 10 minutes trying to talk to you and no matter what he said you didn't even looked at his face for a single moment.

Vox was almost losing his sanity as he decided to say the one thing he knew was going to destroy his ego.

He remembered that earlier that day you asked Vox to go out with you, but he told you he was busy.

Obviously you said that he was always working and that 10 minutes wouldn't make his business go down.

He just ignored you and continued working, without even saying no again.

Knowing what happened he decided to apologize to you.

"Listen uh, I'm... I'm sorry okay? I should've considered your feelings more."

The moment he finished saying you turned around to look at him with a smile.

"See, now that wasn't so hard, was it? But I forgive you Vox. "

That's how Vox never ignored you anymore without a good reason.

Velvette sometimes doesn't even notice that what she says can hurt people.

And that includes you. She wasn't really used to dating someone and this made her be a bit insensitive sometimes.

Velvette never pays attention to what she says until she went to talk to you and you just, ignored her.

She was so confused, she thought you didn't heard what she said.

But when she already repeated the same thing 5 times, Velvette knows you're doing it on purpose.

And she has no fucking idea on why!

That fact already makes her stressed all day because you never even glanced at her.

So she tried to remember everything that happened all day that could've made you like that.

That's when Velvette remembered that she told you how your outfit didn't match at all and it was really ugly. And she didn't saw how sad you got when she said that.

"Hey honey, I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't noticed that what I said was hurtful."

Velvette is definetly the one who tries the best to apologize to you, even if it hurts a bit inside lmao.

You wanted no time on hugging her when she finished it.

"I forgive you Vel, just try to watch your words better 'kay?"

Velvette only laughed it off, and every time you ignored her, she knew that she had to try harder on thinking before speaking.

Valentino can have a hard time respecting people's boundaries, and even if he tries his best with you, it's still... In progress.

Especially with how easily angry he gets. Valentino can't take a no without getting annoyed.

Of course, with you it's better, he actually tries to be a good partner for you.

But sometimes he let his emotions take over him, which leads to situations like this.

Valentino was going to kiss you and be all clingy to you, but he was hella confused when you walked past him.

He quickly walked to your direction to ask you what happened but you never took your eyes off the cellphone.

Even when he grabbed it off your hand, you just kept walking. And that made him both confused and mad.

He tried a lot of things but you never talked to him, until he remembered what had happened earlier.

Val was stressed and that made him yell at you when you got inside his studio without asking him first.

He never says sorry, so apologising to you was a bit awkward.

"Amorcito, please don't be mad at me. I was just stressed, you didn't asked me to go there. Can you forgive me Amor?"

His apology was definetly a bit weird but you knew that's just how he was, and you kissed him before answering.

"Of course Val, just try to be more patient next time."

[captainuranium543]

Fairy tail headcannon a nobody wanted at all😊

- most of the dragon slayers+erza eat bugs regularly and it's gross AF to everyone

-Natsu because he grew up in the woods and they were like the number one abundant source of food, same for Wendy but she stopped for a while because Carla told her it was nasty (as soon as she joined the fairy tail guild she reverted so incredibly fast)

-gajeel pretends to thinks it's gross but secretly he really likes the taste he just doesn't wanna have that in common with natsu

- erza and Erik because in the evil slave tower where everyone was starving if you found a bug you ate it before anyone else could grab it from you.

- sting did not do that growing up but started when natsu told him it was good, he does not agree but does it anyway so natsu thinks he's cool

- rogue only tried it a couple times because frosch wanted to try it to be more like a frog and rogue is nothing if not supportive

- laxus grew up normal and thinks all of them are disgusting

- Lucy has the WORST financial skills. Legit they are awful. Everyone thinks she's always broke cuz of the tpd (team property damage) constantly making them lose their reward to repair bills but (while that is a factor) when Lucy sees smth cute that would look great in her apartment she just cannot help herself. Lucy will be so careful trying to save her money then she'll see a new set of stationary and goes "haha rent what rent"

- the hand me down game at fairy tail was fucking insane when they where kids. For levy and lisanna basically everything they owned had been passed down like 6 times already

- that red shirt natsu wore in the flashbacks? Before him it was erza's, and before her it was canas, and before her it was laxus.

- gray wears almost exclusively white jackets because jackets are expensive and if he loses them he would rather they be easy to spot so he can find them again rather then have to buy a new one

- sometimes people will invite erza places for the scary dog privilege when they dont want to be bothered by strangers. Erza has no idea thats the reason she just thought people really liked walking with her through rough parts of town in the middle of the night.

- Carla and lilly have insane beef, for no damn reason. Like both of them are fairly polite so neither will say it openly but every conversation between the two is the most passive aggressive petty insult battle you could imagine

- freed, levy, Lucy and later jellal have a book club where they all meet up and talk about whatever they're reading and play Scrabble and talk a lot of shit about their annoying ass friends.

- happy sometimes comes but he is under no circumstances allowed to bring natsu(he knows what he did)

- when erza met seigrain/jellal in the magic counsel she first tried to attack him, when that proved to be a bad idea she later started specifically destroying stuff under his jurisdiction to make sure he had to deal with as much paperwork as possible

- for her modelling, Mira used to use a very light spray of holy water to remove body hair because it burns it off💀

- wendy romeo and chelia are actually best friends like they are constantly hanging out together just to go do stuff

- erza and Erik hate each other for no reason at all. Like over that year that she worked with crime sorciere they where ALWAYS BEEFING. Every time they were near each other erza was thinking insults she knew he could hear and Erik was fighting for his life not to strangle her to death.

When erza became sclass she used to sit on the 5th step of the stairs because Mira wasn't allowed on those stairs yet and it really pissed her off. She was like, just barely out of reach, so Mira would stand at the bottom the stairs yelling death threats at her and erza would be like "whattt I'm not doing anything I don't even know what your talking about in literally just sitting what are you so mad about"

- when Warren invented cellphones, despite all of them looking like modern smartphones, freed somehow managed to get one that looked exactly like a Blackberry and refuses to get a different one

- Mira used to cut her siblings hair and because she didn't know any good haircuts yet her 2 options where 1- bald or 2- bowl cut. Hence lisannas horrifying cut as a child

[ruinarei]

things i want y’all to picture regarding this asshole: he’s 100% unaware of how most modern inventions work in runeterra or earth or wherever else, since he has spent one thousand years slumbering before being brought back.

so imagine in a modern setting him staring at a cellphone like ‘what is this witchcraft????’

[burnedbyshoto]

house sitting & concupiscence

— In which Endeavor asks Shouto for a favor, and Shouto decides to take his payment by fucking you on his bed. —

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: cursing, 18+ smut, dom!shouto, masturbation, toys (spreader bar, bondage, vibrator, collar, leash, gag, & fuck machine), master kink, spanking, temperature play, marking, pain, choking, torture punishment, overstimulation, voyeurism, slapping, oral (giving), hair pulling (receiving), semi-brat taming, anal (receiving), breeding kink

word count: 18,631

a/n: i know its long, but,,, please read LMAO. this took me a full ass week to write. im exhausted, im buzzing because idk how this went LMAOOOO, let me know what you think! please carefully read the warning, I will not be addressing anything about anal in my askbox (unless youre roasting me, which is understandable because lmao)

message to join tag list :)

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“Why are we going to your dad’s house?”

Tonight was supposed to be your date night with Shouto, and given that for the past two months, the two of you had been busy every day and night adjusting to being working adults, the two of you had been excited to go out. Next week would make two years, but it seemed the two of you would only be able to celebrate it during the dead of night. So, with a kind smile and a gentle kiss, you convinced Shouto that the two of you could celebrate the week prior. After all, it didn’t matter that it wasn’t quite two years; you both loved each other plenty enough to overlook the actual date.

Like for any celebration, you found yourself sitting in front of your vanity mirror as you applied your makeup. Your hair was done up in the most elegant style you could muster on your own, and you wore a simple yet gorgeous little black dress. Your head tilted in the mirror as you looked at your reflection. Your legs were shapely and smooth from the increased physical work you were doing, and the heels you paired with the outfit hung from your fingers.

You thought you looked hot, to say the least. What you didn’t expect was for Shouto to step into your shared room with his nostrils flared and eyes cold. Your eyes widened as you turned toward him, but the anger in his face disappeared immediately as he took you in.

His eyebrow quirked; a natural smile pressed into his face as his hands shoved into the pocket of his slacks.

“Don’t you look beautiful,” Shouto comments as he strolls up next to you. The steps were so casual, it was as if the two of you were strangers flirting in a bar, and not lovers two years into a serious relationship. “Who got you this outfit?”

Biting your lip, you chuckled, your arms wrapping around his neck, and you relaxed as he locked his around your waist. Your fingers rose to brush his short hair, the undercut was new, but it was a look you very much enjoyed on him.

Rising up onto your toes, you smile, seeing the way he leans towards you until your ruby painted lips brush against his earlobe.

“Your brother,” you tease, laughing loudly as he moves away, mock disgust and jealousy on his face.

“My brother? I’ll teach you to accept such pretty things from people who aren’t me,” Shouto warns as his fingers slip under the hem of the dress, eliciting a shout from you. He doesn’t seem to be deterred as his fingers hike the skirt of the dress further up until your cheeks turn red, and your protests are nothing but stutters.

“T-The reservations, Shoucchan,” you manage to get out as his lips press against your jugular vein.

“What about them?” Shouto mumbles against your skin as he backs you towards the bed.

“They’re s-soon,” you gasp as his teeth skim your skin, and his hands massage slowly against your ass. “We can’t miss it.”

Two months of hardly seeing each other also meant two months of not having sex or any sort of physical contact, and your actions exposed your need quickly. Your heels dropped with a loud clang, and you let Shouto do as he pleased.

To your dismay, however, the clatter of your heels on the floor caused Shouto’s ministrations to cease. Your eyes blinked as you focused back on him, your chest hammering and lust scorching your skin as you tried to concentrate on your boyfriend.

“Shouto?”

His eyes were once more consumed with the irritation and annoyance that had plagued him before you two interacting. Groaning loudly, you did not miss the way his eyes rolled before he focused back onto you.

“…we have to cancel the reservation.”

So, there you sit in the car, still dressed up with Shouto to your right driving, his hands clenching so tight around the wheel that his knuckles are white.

You sigh and tug his arm towards you. The way he attempts to jerk his arm away doesn’t escape you, but you still clutch his arm and lace your fingers with his. You place a soft kiss to the back of his hand and smile when you see him relax. It’s a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

“Are you going to answer my question, or are you going to leave me in the dark?” You ask again, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb.

Shouto sighs and looks over at you. His face is still set with annoyance, but his eyes brighten when he looks at you, and his lips quirk into the smallest of smiles.

“You’re annoying,” he says, and you scoff in protest. He smiles broader and brings your hand to his mouth and presses a gentle kiss to it.

Shifting in the leather seat to face him a bit better, you stretch towards him, your eyes wide with curiosity. “Answer my question, brat!”

Shouto sits there for a bit, gathering his emotions before he sighs, annoyed once again. “He asked Fuyumi-nee to take care of his house for tonight.”

Your eyebrows scrunch. You know that Fuyumi has a vital interview tomorrow for her job, and knowing the hero’s life, she would have to stay there late into the night. “Doesn’t she have the—?”

“Yeah, so she said no,” Shouto sighs, his hand in yours tightening. “Natsuo also has a lot of exams, and he and Endeavor aren’t on good terms still, so… that’s why he couldn’t take it. So, Endeavor called me and pulled a ‘you owe me a favor’ card from our second year. Didn’t fucking care that I had plans.”

“Why does he need someone to take care of his house?” You ask, trying to keep Shouto from hyper-fixating onto Endeavors’ ignorance detail. “He lives there alone?”

“He’s paranoid about some low-class villains going to his door when no one is there since his address was exposed,” Shouto rolls his eyes as the two of you pull into the driveway of Endeavors Residence. “Some fucking number one hero he is.”

“And he wanted Fuyumi to watch the house?!” You gasp, your eyes widening. Shouto nods his head as he unbuckles his seatbelt, and he’s out of the door before you could finish asking your question. You sigh and unbuckle your belt, knowing how infuriated Shouto is.

Your brush your hair out of your face, and the car door opened. You looked up with a small grin as Shouto offered you a hand.

“If I’m being forced to spend our anniversary here, I’m going to do it correctly, as if everything was going according to plan.”

Giggling, you let Shouto help you out of the car, and you couldn’t help but bring your exasperated boyfriend in for a gentle kiss. The kiss lasts less than a few seconds, but as you pull away, the irritability on Shouto’s face is gone as he smiles.

“I love you,” he says, closing the car door behind you.

“I love you too.” You smile like a lovestruck idiot as he begins to lead you to the front door. “We should have brought our costumes; surprise a few lowlives with our signatures.”

“Are you suggesting we let them rob Endeavor?” Shouto asks as he unlocks the front door.

“I just might be!” You laugh as you step in and remove your shoes.

It was currently five in the evening, and thus your date night commenced.

After two hours, you found yourself curled up on Shouto’s lap. You busied yourself with shoving popcorn in his mouth as you two watched Avatar the Last Airbender. The two of you had been watching it together since Shouto finally confessed that he had no idea why he was always compared to Prince Zuko.

Months of watching a few episodes every occasional night when you two had time lead you two to the finale now.

“I see the comparison now,” Shouto admitted with a mouthful of popcorn, and you hushed him again.

“Zuko may die!” You cried as on the screen, Zuko faced off with Azula, “He can lose, and you finally getting the comparison to the hottest man in the world is not a good excuse to distract me!”

“We can use fire, a scar, and a horrible father,” Shouto continues talking despite your attempts to quiet him as fire and lightning roared on the screen. “I was never the bad guy, was I?”

“You were a complete prick in the beginning, like Zuko,” you point out as you still focus entirely onto the T.V., “I mean, you did threaten to kill someone when we were fifteen. Talk about edgy! Plus, you didn’t want friends until Deku destroyed half of his body for you!”

“You’re an asshole,” Shouto huffs as he pushes you off of him, and you groan as you watch as he stands up.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You call after him as you sit up onto your knees, you faced him as he walked out with his cellphone raised for you to see that he was getting a call from Endeavor.

Your mouth drops, and you nod as Shouto walks outside to talk with his dad. You settle back down onto the couch and grab the remote, pausing the show and sinking into the sofa. Your fingers brush against your dress as you wait for Shouto to come back.

It felt like an eternity before Shouto returned; the front door slamming behind him, causing you to wince. Shouto stormed over, his eyes blazing with fury, and he clenched a case in his hand as he glared in your direction. It would have been unsettling had you not known whom his anger was directed at. He stops a few strides away from you, clearly not in the mood to finish up the Avatar series.

“What happened, baby?” You ask, standing up. A soft scoff escapes his lips as he shakes his head.

“He thought I was here alone,” Shouto explains, his head low. “He makes me come take care of his house, knowing that I had plans tonight, then he expected me to be here alone?!”

Your eyes widen as a chill runs down your spine. Endeavor was not a people person, that was a given, and there was no saying whether or not he liked you being Shouto’s girlfriend, but for him to not like the idea of being here was a bit off-putting.

“Do you need me to leave?” you find yourself asking as you walked over to Shouto with short strides. You knew that their relationship, while it had vastly improved since three years ago, was still rocky. You wanted Shouto to be as comfortable around his dad as much as possible, even if it meant you stepping away when needed. “I can get—”

“No,” Shouto snaps, his nostrils flaring, a furious fire flashing in his eyes, and his lips curling into a wry smile. “You’re not leaving.”

“If Endeavor doesn’t want me—”

“Fuck what Endeavor wants,” Shouto growls as he lets you pull him into a soft embrace, but he’s tense and doesn’t melt into your touch like he usually does. “I want you, y/n, and he ruined our night. He doesn’t have the damn right to tell me what I can or can’t do when I’m happy.”

You nervously licked your lips as you stroked his back gently in hopes of derailing his palpable anger. There was just no use in having Shouto getting worked up about something that Endeavor wasn’t going to be able to change in the long run anyway.

“It’s okay,” you whisper as you pull away, your eyes trying to shine brightly as you press a gentle kiss to his mouth. “I won’t leave!”

There’s a harsh stream of air that escapes his nose, and he’s stiff against you, his lips unmoving, but he returned the kiss nonetheless.

“This is our night,” you whisper against his mouth as your lips press against his jawline and pepper slow kisses down his jaw. He seems to have an internal battle of remaining angry and caving to your touch. “You have a room here, it’s just us two, let’s have some fun! Come on, forget about Endeavor.”

As a hero, there were moments where you could feel impending danger or something on the horizon. Be it a sixth sense, or just fantastic gut feeling, but the moment those words left your mouth, they hit you in the gut. Pulling away, your eyes focus on Shouto, whose eyes are shut tight, and you watch as his jaw muscle flares before his eyes open.

Todoroki Shouto was no longer his younger self. While still prone to acting solely on his emotions, he was in control. The last time you had seen the pure rage in Shouto’s eyes was long before the two of you had been together, and something crawled down your spine as you attempted to speak, to understand what he was thinking about, and to stop whatever he was planning.

But then he let out a dark chuckle.

And you were too slow.

His mouth slams against yours, and your body goes back with the collision, but he doesn’t let you free. His kiss is hot, drowning, intoxicating, and full of burning energy that you didn’t realize he had in him. His free hand presses into your lower back, keeping you pressed against him as his mouth tries to get you to break. Your hands press against his shoulders in an attempt to slow him down, but it doesn’t seem to have the effect you were hoping for.

His hand leaves the bottom of your back to tangle into your hair, your resounding groan of both pain and pleasure resonates through you, and it clouds your judgment. Your hands — against your better sense — wrap around the back of his neck, drawing him in closer. His hot tongue swiped at your bottom lip immediately.

Not wanting to give in to his insistence, you purse your lips against his harsh kiss. He didn’t seem to agree with you. The hand that held the black case smacked against your ass, and you gasped at the stinging pain as the case rattled.

His tongue invades your mouth in an intense affair, and your mind spins at the way his tongue drops in temperature before warming up. It sends a pleasant and dull throb through your body, and you moan into his mouth. Were you really going to let Shouto fuck you in a house that wasn’t yours? The two of you had fucked in places that weren’t your house, but it was never a family home, much less his dad’s house, but his tongue curls to tease the roof of your mouth, and it sends an uncontrollable shudder down your spine.

Your cheeks glow with embarrassment, and your eyes are wide in shock. “Shouto’s really going for it,” you thought. His lips are scorching, but it’s his eyes that make your thighs tremble. His eyes are nearly glowing with lust and desire, there’s still that animosity in his eyes and a sense of arrogance that made you want nothing more than to retaliate.

“I hope you’re ready for what’s happening tonight,” Shouto smirks, and you pant trying to control your racing heart.

“You know I am,” you lie confidently, despite the tremor in your voice and the weakness in your knees.

His hand moves to your cheeks, and you feel a growing heat from his hand as he places yet another ardent kiss onto your slowly bruising lips. Shouto’s lips are magnetic against yours, continuously pulling you in, sucking you in until you were gasping for more. Then he would move to nibble on your senseless lips in your overwhelmed state.

Low and soft pants with intermixed gasps begin to leave your mouth as you try to calm down, this kiss was so unlike his typical embrace, but you fucking loved this dominant persona that he dons. Your arms wrap around his neck, drawing him nearer, eliminating the space between you so that nothing could dare to come between, but your hips have a mind of their own, and you feel yourself grinding your crotch against his.

A low and nearly angry hiss leaves his lips, and your breath hitches as his mouth leaves yours. In a fashion similar to yours earlier that day, his mouth presses multiple kisses against your jawline, but they’re sturdy, intense, and full of teeth. Your mouth drops as you let out a curled moan at the feeling of his teeth sinking into the skin below your jaw.

It wasn’t a typical love bite; this was marking. You could feel his intent to break your skin with the mark, and the heat between your legs flared as he took a step forward, and with that, you made a step back.

You’ve only been to this house a few times, and most of the time, you only come here for Fuyumi’s sake of keeping the family close. Awkward yet lively dinner conversations had led to Shouto showing you his childhood room that hadn’t been touched since he was fifteen. Sure, the two of you were nineteen, but a bedroom that hadn’t been touched in four years was something sinisterly haunting.

Shouto’s bedroom was the closest to the master bedroom — Endeavors room. That you knew because the grandest and most intricately beautiful door in this house belonged to Endeavors’ room.

Imagine the horror that sank in your when your lust hazed vision watched as Shouto’s childhood room passed you and your back hit a door.

“Shouto! This is—”

“I know,” Shouto growled against your burning neck. He had left enough bites on your neck to hurt, but the throbbing pain only added to the throbbing heat of your core. “You deserve to be fucked on a good bed, not my childhood one.”

“But Endeavor!” Pathetically you try to get him to move off you, but Shouto opens the door, and the two of you stumble in. “We can’t—!”

“Don’t worry,” he chuckles as he pulls away from your marked neck, “he won’t know.”

Your eyes widened as he lets you go, and you hesitated in moving towards the enormous bed before you. This was too much, you couldn’t let Shouto fuck you on his dad’s bed! That would be so disrespectful! Blatant and honest disrespect! Even if Shouto was in a “fuck his dad” mood, you couldn’t let this happen.

Turning to face your boyfriend, the release of him on your body, allowing you to think logically, you were ready to stay firm in your decision.

“What are you doing?” Shouto asks as he walks to the bed, placing the black box onto the bed with a quirked eyebrow. “Get on the bed.”

“N-No,” you wheeze out. Wow, go confident you! “We can’t fuck on Endeavors bed! T-That’s going too far! I… I can’t do that!”

Shouto blinked slowly, once, twice, and then returned his attention back to the case as he released the clasps.

“Don’t worry about it,” Shouto says as he lays out a few things from the box, and a nervous shiver goes down your spine as you see what he brought.

A collar, leash, vibrator wand, ball gag, a spreader bar with bondage cuffs, so much lube, and a fucking machine.

Your jaw drops as he lays them out neatly, his eyes turning back towards you, and there’s a silent moment where the two of you simply stare at each other.

“That’s going too far,” you squeak as you pull at the hem of your dress, the nerves hit you as he shifts to look at you directly. “I can’t… if Endeavor found out, he’s going to kill us!”

“Endeavor isn’t going to find out,” Shouto’s upper lip curled into a snarl as his eyes flashed dangerously. “We’ll wash the sheets, whatever the hell makes you convinced he won’t find out. But right now? I fucking need you the way I was planning on having you.”

His words fall almost alluringly in your ears, and goosebumps flash across your skin; butterflies fly in your stomach as you moan at the thought of what his intentions were for tonight. You chewed nervously on your bottom lip as you thought it over, trying to figure out what exactly you needed to do because there was no getting out of this. You were beyond horny now, but it didn’t take much to see the danger in doing this.

But no, you couldn’t do this!

“Shouto, let’s — oh my god!”

Shouto, while you were lost in your thoughts, had begun to strip off his shirt. His toned and scarred torso ridiculously defined in the lighting of the room, and he stared at you dead-on as he ran a hand through his falling locks. Your breathing turns into a frenzy as he walks over to you, his hands slipping into the pockets of his slacks until he’s centimeters before you.

Your eyes struggle not to scour your boyfriend’s body like some hormonal fangirl, you recited the Pro Hero Guidebook in your head as you fought off the urge to just jump him. Were pheromones a thing for humans? If they were, he was definitely putting you under some spell that was making you succumb to his own lusts.

“I know what I want,” he whispers as his lips brush against your sore neck, and a voluptuous moan resounds loudly from you. Your breasts rise and fall quickly as your hands press against his warm skin, and your eyes flutter closed as his lips press heavier against your skin. “I know what I need. I need you more than life itself, and I only want you, y/n.”

Not daring to open your eyes in fear of having this gone too soon, you feel yourself nodding.

“Fuck me right then…”

A chuckle deep in his throat reverberated against you, and then you felt his lips back on you.

Hot, fast, dangerous.

You struggled to keep up as Shouto tossed you up, and your legs automatically went to wrap around his waist.

Hunger, desire, need.

That was the way Shouto kissed you right now, his lips downright eager, yet it wasn’t the right word to use. You could feel his hard-on pressing against your ass as you drew him in closer. Hands pressed against his neck, clawing at the bare skin as you wanted more from him — you craved more from him.

It was when you pressed your chest into him that caused a small yelp of protest to escape your lips. In your impassioned drunkness, Shouto had been holding your ass firmly in his grip. His fingers digging into your soft flesh under the hem of your dress until he seemed to be sick of it.

The sound of ripping fabric echoed in your ears as you pulled away from Shouto’s luring mouth. The dress fell loose around your body as you watched as he pulled the remains of your dress from between the two of you. You slammed your hands against his chest in protest as Shouto took the destroyed material and tossed it onto the floor.

“It was in the way,” Shouto chuckles as he ignores your protests as he brings you back in for another kiss. “I’ll buy you a new one, I’m the one who bought it after all.”

Your eyes twitch as his fingers trace the lingerie that remained secured on your body; the anger you had vanished quickly the moment he brushed his thumb over your clothed nipple. Yes, there were apparent problems with knowing everything about your partner’s body, as in times like this, your anger flew out the window as his thumb and forefinger pinched your nipple.

You reacted with a shrill mewl as your hips automatically ground against his, and your head slammed against his shoulder. You felt his cold fingers press the bra down, and your mind nearly went blank as his calloused fingers made contact with your sensitive nipples.

“S-Shouto,” you stammer as you feel your neck blushing as his teeth nip at your earlobe, tingling pleasure scorching your body as he does it a few more times. Low and sultry moans escape your mouth as the heightening bliss of this interaction was getting to you.

“Fuck,” Shouto chuckled as he began moving towards the bed, and you tremble as the friction between your crotches increase. The pressure of his clothed cock sends your mind spinning against your barely covered core. “You’re so gorgeous, love.”

Panting in agreement, your hips bucked weakly against his as the pleasure of him biting your earlobe, his fingers pinching, pulling, and rolling your nipple, and the way his hips met your grinding hips.

Low and pounding heat grew in your stomach, and you whimpered as his hand groped your breast.

But then it was gone, and your body was tossed against a soft bed.

The coolness and freshness of the sheets once more sent a memory of whose bed this was. And the consequences for your actions.

“Shouto!” You squeaked as Shouto climbed onto the bed, his hands holding the lube as his eyes glanced at you.

Lust, amazement, love, and confusion.

“What is it?”

“This is Endeavors bed,” you find yourself repeating, although you were past the point of caring. It just came back up like word vomit.

“Fuck what he says,” Shouto snaps as he drops the lube. His eyebrows were scrunched together in his annoyance and anger, and you could see the muscles flaring in his jaw. There’s a cold laugh that leaves Shouto’s mouth as he grabs the spreader, and you feel your heart stop. “I don’t like it when you’re saying other trash names when I’m about to fuck you, princess.”

Your eyes widen as Shouto is by your feet with the spreader, his head down, and his hair falling to cover his dark eyes.

“I think you need to prove to me that you deserve to let me fuck you.”

Before you could ask, before you could question his actions, Shouto tore your panties from your hips and held them in his fingers. His eyes widening as he sees the soaked thin fabric between his fingers.

You sat up straight, trying to grab for your panties, embarrassed by how wet you had been even though practically nothing had happened. But Shouto was faster and far stronger. With a heavy hand, he shoved your shoulder back, and you fell back onto the mattress, and as you collected yourself, something tight wrapped around your ankles.

“SHOUTO!”

On your ankles sat the spreader bar, the black steel shining dangerously at you as you stared up at your boyfriend, who placed your panties into his slack pockets.

“You’ll get those back if you behave,” Shouto hums as he sat down. “Now, if you want my cock, you better make yourself cum.”

“I’m not masturbating,” you snap embarrassed as you felt exposed. Your legs were wide open, your slick essence already coating your inner thighs and the smell of your sex filling your nose as you tried in repetitive failure to close your legs.

“Fine,” Shouto says coolly as he stands up from the bed. “Have fun letting Endeavor see you like this. Cunt wet and exposed like a filthy fucking whore.”

You’re stunned into silence as you watch as he walks towards the door, his eyes unamused yet challenging as he places a hand on the knob.

“But you would like that, huh? You’d let other men fuck what’s mine? Is this what you wanted all along?”

Shouto lets out a dry laugh as he dares you to not do anything, but the pure stupidity behind his words makes you angry. It boils in your stomach as you lay down, your eye contact not breaking as you pull down the other bra cup. Then your fingers trail from your collarbone down to your breasts, teasing your pert nipples.

Electrifying pleasure rolls through you as you play with your breasts. Each tug, pull and turn making your knees slam together in an attempt to get friction to your cunt.

“Come on,” Shouto smirks as he rests at the foot of the bed. His arms are crossed against his chest, and he’s drinking you in. “Put your fingers where you want me.”

“I’m not putting my fingers up my ass,” you grin, your bottom lip captured between your teeth as another building pleasure slams through your body.

Shouto doesn’t say anything, his eyes only getting darker as you bring your fleshy mounds to your mouth and take a playful bite.

Eyes were powerful, and Shouto had some of the most intense eyes you’d ever known. So the way he gorged your figure as your hand flattened against your skin while trailing down your navel to where you were desperate for attention set your skin on fire.

Your legs trembled as the nail of your middle finger teased the middle of your lower lips, and you felt like you were choking at the way he zeroed in on your teasing fingers.

“Give me a show.”

Groaning at the way his words clung to you, your fingers pressed against your throbbing clit as your eye contact was broken by your head tossing back. You were so turned on that this gentle pressure felt overwhelming as you cried his name.

Your other hand dropping your breast and pressed against your inner thigh, your other fingers moving from your clit to your cunt.

In went one finger, the initial tightness making you sigh as you pumped your finger with no intent in mind. Then went in another finger and another. Your inner walls clenching around your intruding fingers, making you gasp at the velvety warmth of it all. Eyes fluttering open, you move your wrist, and your fingers move fluidly within you.

“Doesn’t that feel good?” Shouto groans as he watches your movements like a hawk, his eyes burning themselves into your exposed cunt.

But it made you feel so good.

With a single heave, your pumping fingers increased in their speed and intensity. Growing so much, your walls squeezed against your moving fingers. Your fingers pounded into your wet core, the sounds of the entering and exiting appendages, making you whine as your free hand pressed against your clit. Your hips bucked up against your moving fingers in an attempt to further increase this intense desire.

Your fingers continued to dance against your needy clit as you shook.

Hot fire slammed to your toes as they curled in your overwhelming pleasure. Your eyes clenching closed as you rubbed hard and fast circles into your desperate clit. Your back arching off the bed multiple times, almost ending with you falling onto your side due to the imbalance caused by the restraint bar.

Faster and hard, faster, and harder.

The squelching of your soaked pussy and pistoning fingers were heavy in your ear as you shrieked. Your legs were spasming, kicking, and your hips thrusting as your end was nearing fast. Shouto’s name continued to be cried from your mouth as you curled your fingers in you, and your fingers pinched your clit, and then an idea slams through you.

Use Endeavor’s name.

And as your orgasm crashed through you, a pitched scream sounded in the room as it all clashed within you.

His name was used.

Your body trembling as you lay on the bed, your fingers still knuckle deep within you as you pant. Your slick essence coats your hands as you manage to sit up, out of breath, and staring at Shouto in a challenging way as you removed your fingers from within you.

There’s a scoff, a sound almost similar to a snarl, and you watch as Shouto shakes his head.

“Aren’t you being a fucking slut.”

Blinking slowly, you heard his pants hit the ground when the belt clacked against the wooden floors. Then you saw that he was by your legs, his cock erect and pressing onto his stomach, the head already beading. Pre-cum dripped from his tip, and you feel victorious at the way he was so turned on.

But it seemed that the dress wasn’t the only thing being destroyed today.

His left hand held onto the fabric of your bra, and you watched in heated horror as he reduced the lingerie to ash.

“Shouto?! What the fu— mmph?!”

Shouto shoved your cum slick fingers in your mouth, and you mewled at the taste of your sweet essence on your fingers.

“Suck it all off,” he practically hissed as he moved your wrists, emulating a blowjob as you groaned against your fingers. “You don’t deserve to be fucked like a princess, do you?”

Your protests against your fingers were ignored as he pressed you against the bed, and you choked as your fingernail stabbed the back of your throat. But it didn’t matter to Shouto, no, not at all.

“If you want to be saying Endeavor’s — fucking scum’s name in bed, I’ll treat you no better than a fucking whore.”

There was a moment of silence as he watched you gag against your own fingers, his weight keeping you locked onto the mattress. But then it was over, and his hand grabbed the bar between your ankles, and he yanked it up.

Your teeth lock around your fingers in your surprise, but he lets go of your wrist, your eyes lock on his as your knees rest beside your chest, and you blink in confusion as he glares down at you.

“Hold it,” he commands as your hands move to hold the bar. It’s cold against your fingers, and the areas that are coated with your saliva make the bar slippery and wet.

“W-Why?” You hoarsely ask, your throat thick from the continuous stabbing of your finger. Typically when the bar was used, Shouto always held it.

“I told you you were going to be fucked like a whore, right? That makes you easy. I don’t need to work hard for someone who does this daily. But that means you should be good at this, so see that clock? In ten minutes, if you cum more than three times, you’ll get punished.”

Your mouth opens to respond to him, but Shouto presses his hands against the bottom of your thighs and, with accurate precision, thrusts wholly into you.

Your grip on the bar almost weakens entirely as his cock fills you completely, your words of protest become gasping pleas as the tip of his cock presses against your cervix, and you feel dizzy, your fluttering walls adjusting. His cock was thick, and it was lengthy; your inner walls ached against him as you adjusted, but regardless of how tight it felt, you could sense your essence spilling from you as Shouto sighed.

He shifted, and in a matter of seconds, you watched as his hips snapped backward before thrusting back into you.

The stretch of your legs makes you feel as if you weren’t breathing correctly. Each breath was short and raspy as you clung to the metal bar as Shouto repetitively slams his cock into your cunt.

“Shit, such a pretty cunt you have,” he rasps as your walls spam against him with his wild thrusts. He moves his hands further up your legs so that they press against your knees, pushing you into the mattress, increasing the angle of which he drills down into you.

Pathetically, your hips attempt to rise up in meet him, to increase this brutal force he was using as you crave even more. It was too much.

The sounds of his cock slamming into your sopping pussy created loud wet noises that you cried in embarrassment, but Shouto found it as an excuse to speed up. His rugged grunts are music to your ears as his cock hits your walls every time. The stretch he gives you was boggling, and you were progressively less cognitive aware as he drilled in harder. His slams were so hard that the sound of his thighs hitting your ass let out a continuous and loud slap.

His fingers gorge into your skin, and you cry his name like a hopeful prayer as he is fueled by your appraisal.

Your hands are weak against the bar, and it feels as if it’s slipping the moment he releases his right hand from your leg. You cry as the angle of penetration lessens, but his ramming continues at the same pace, and his fingers land on a puffy and sensitive bundle of nerves. The simple action set you enflame as you wailed his name, and Shouto bit your inner calf as his finger cooled dramatically against your clit.

The difference between your body that felt like it was on fire and the bitter ice of his fingers made your body spasm uncontrollably. The bar was being pulled in by your forearms as exploding pleasure slams through every vein in your body. But your thrashing and wailing do not stop Shouto, nor do they lessen the pace and the force he’s settled in as the bed begins to sway with every powerful thrust.

“I needa— holy shit, r-right there!”

“What? Do you need to come already?” Shouto mocks against your calve, and you whimper as he bites it again.

Your eyes can no longer stay open as the only noises leaving your mouth are whines and begs for more. You forcibly clench around him in an attempt to stir a reaction from him, but all he does is curse loudly as he continues his rutting force. The pounding is rhythmic. The feeling of Shouto’s cock entering and leaving you draws your eyes to the back of your head as you whimper his name, his thighs hitting your ass at bruising force, only adding to your pleasure. His finger getting colder by the second as it simmers against your burning clit. Your heart hammering in your ears as you heard Shouto snap at you.

“Cum.”

The orgasm that had been surging within you crashed through you in a fiery white heat as your jaw slacks in a silent scream. Your body convulses against your hold and his, but Shouto doesn’t stop, not even when your toes curl, not even when you sob.

“Shouto!”

He pulled out then, his pants heavy in your ear, and something ripped through you as the weirdest sensation floods through you. Your cunt throbs uncharacteristically harder as you softly sob Shouto’s name.

You had squirted.

It was all over the comforter; there was even some on Shouto’s lower abs that shone in a mixture of sweat and you.

Your head slams back into the mattress as you can feel your heartbeat in your cunt, your chest heaving at the experience you just had. You’ve never squirted before, and your body felt like it was short-circuiting as you remained on your back.

“Look at that,” Shouto mused as he unfastened the restraints on your ankles, and your thighs crashed together, an inevitable soreness throbbing within as you lay speechless. That had winded you. “For someone not wanting to make a scene on his bed, you just wet a whole portion to it. I don’t think you even care if he finds out I fucked you on his bed, y/n. A little whore like you, you probably want the entire neighborhood to know.”

“I don’t,” you gasp as you struggle to find your breath still, and Shouto hums as he turns you over onto your stomach.

You’re not sure if it was a forcible push or something gentle. All you know is that your body burned where he touched you, and your thighs ached as you settled on your stomach.

“How the fuck am I supposed to fuck you like that?” Shouto snaps at you, and your eyes widen as you shift your head to look at Shouto’s whose cock is still erect, and you realize in a dawning horror that you had come twice now, and he had not.

Then there was the challenge, he only had to make you come three more times to do whatever insidious things he had planned. Your fingers fisted in the sheets as you groaned loudly. His body heat radiated onto you, and you rub your thighs together at the thought of Shouto gripping your ass as he drilled into you from behind.

You needed to get him to do that, but to make sure you didn’t come.

“I don’t want to,” you stall, hoping that in moments like these, it would help in your favor.

“Let go of the sheets,” Shouto ignores you as he gives a pointed look at your hands that clutched the sheets.

“Nope.”

The heat he provided was suddenly gone, and your eyes widened as a closet door creaks open. You watch as Shouto stands by a closet, a hand on his hip as he studies the closet before him, and you let out a strangled noise as you can already taste what he’s getting out.

“Shouto, do not!”

“Don’t what?” Shouto asks as he pulls out four brightly colored ties that Endeavor owned. “They’ll get cleaned up and put away, I mean look at the mess you already made, this shouldn’t concern you.”

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment as you look at the stained sheets below you, and you sit on your knees as you cross your arms.

“Using Endeavors clothes as bondage is going too far!”

Shouto looked at you, his eyes annoyed, angry, and uncaring, then he shrugs. He takes a few strides, and he’s back on the bed.

“He should have thought of that before being a dick.”

There was no time to react as Shouto grabbed your wrists in his hand and tugged you towards him. Before you could attempt to pull back, to resist ruining more of Endeavors’ personal belongings, the tie is properly looped around your arms, and you’re locked in place.

“Now on your hands and knees like a good slut,” Shouto directs running a hand through his sweaty locks while rising to his knees. The tie is almost uncomfortable with how tight it is, and you remain stagnant, staring at your boyfriend, who was insistently becoming more of a dom than you had ever seen him as. But with your lack of action, his expression sours, and he grasps your cheeks in his hand. “Are you fucking deaf?

You gasp loudly when Shouto’s hand brings your face to the mattress, your back curved, arms pressed into your breasts.

“I thought whores had better form than this,” Shouto sneers while pressing a heavy hand against the center of your spine. You adjusted immediately under his force, your back arching with your pert ass in the air. “Much better.”

The mattress pressed against your chest in a suffocating way, your heart hammering as you realized what was to come.

“Shouto, please,” your voice pleads again; his hands roam your ass and hips, whispering nasty sweet things to you while the tip of his cock presses against your still wet cunt. “Don’t make a mess of me, not on Endeavors bed.”

There was a moment of silence while his hands disappeared from your skin. Licking your lips, you turned your head to see what exactly his expression was. But you were too late.

He slammed his right hand against your ass cheek, causing you to shriek while your skin throbbed in his wake. The pain made your legs buckle, a hot pressure reigniting in your core, and another loud slap repeated on your opposite cheek.

Fisting in your hair, you yelped loudly when Shouto yanked your head back. The arch in your back was dramatized by this action; your back ached as another heavy slap echoed against your troubled skin. His dense, almost wild breathing hits the shell of your ear, and chills shoot down your spine when he snarls.

“Who the fuck matters to you right now?” He hisses in your ear. “Is it Endeavor fucking you on this bed right now? No—” his hand comes down against your ass with every word, ignoring your growing sobs— “I’m the one fucking you. The only man’s name you should be uttering is mine. Do. You. Understand?”

The next spank that comes across your ass nearly sends you tumbling over at the strength and power behind it. Your arms buckle under you, the weight and struggle to keep yourself upright was a challenge as Shouto abused your ass.

“Answer me, whore.”

There was no stopping Shouto’s heavy hand against your pert ass, and you could not think of anything but how your cunt throbbed for the man behind you. Your sobs of pain had long ago become those of pleasure, and you could feel the raised prints of his hands on your sore cheeks. It delighted you.

“Y-Yes, sir!” You pant, your body trembling in your excitement and need for more.

“You like this, don’t you,” he sneers while he rubs circles against your heated skin. “You’re trembling with excitement as you try telling me you don’t want me to fuck you here. Do you want me to leave you here? With no clothes, no way back home? Count the number of times I spank you, I want to hear you counting and thanking me every time.”

Slap.

“One. T-Thank you, sir.”

Your words were barely above a whisper, just enough for Shouto to hear you thank him as you trembled like a leaf before him. His upper lip pulled back into a sneer as he let go of your hair, throwing your head into the mattress, and his fingers go and pinch your nether lips, and you cried loudly.

“I know you can fucking scream louder than that, don’t make me ask again. From the top.”

The words were like honey to your ear, and you shifted in an attempt to ease the growing lust between your legs.

Slap.

“One! Thank you, s-sir!”

Your mind reeled as Shouto continued his conquest against your ass. You could barely remember the number you were on by the time he was done with you, the added sensation of his alternating heated and chilled hands increasing the desire in you to find you as you were now. Ass bright red and in the air, back arched further than you had ever gone, and saliva and tears seeping onto your bond arms.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he observes as two of his fingers slide against your wet slit, and your ragged moans fill the area at the need of more. He continued petting you, and while feeling finally returned to your abused ass, your hips began to buck against his wandering hands, trying to get them to slip between the folds. “Such a greedy little slut.”

His chuckle is barely heard by you, for as he said that, he pressed the head of his cock into your cunt. A sharp whine slams from your throat as the emptiness of this action makes you crave more. You shift your ass back, the action full of temporary regret as soring pain flashes through your lower body. He did not hold back.

Gritting your teeth, you continued pushing against him, craving more.

“Is this not good enough for you?” Shouto chuckles, but there’s no light humor to his laughter. “Good.”

At that phrase, Shouto slams into you at full force again, causing you to bite down hard against your saliva-coated and bound arms as you feel his cock twitch within you. Your breathing is harsh as you focus on the nightstand and see the clock. It’s felt like an eternity, but only three minutes had passed since the bet was made. If you won, you’d move this fuck feast into his bedroom.

“Seven minutes,” you choke against your skin, not wanting to show how turned on you were.

The instant you were done chiding him, you regretted telling Shouto the amount of time he had left. The bed shifted by your knees, and you could only imagine what was happening as you could feel his cock moving out of you and slamming back into you.

The angle and power behind these thrusts were different than what you were used to from the standard doggy style. With each hypnotizing slam of his hips, shrill moans of pleasures ripped from your throat, and you preened your head to look at Shouto.

Sure enough, Shouto was positioned on his feet, his knees bent as he dropped into your awaiting cunt with such savagery your eyes rolled back watching him. Sweat dripped down his neck, his hands gripping your bruised and battered ass like some type of life support, and the squelching noises of your slamming sex were making your body weak.

“That feels so — fuck — do that!”

“Who—” slap— “Are—” slap— “You—” slap— “Addressing?!” Slap!

“Y-You, sir!” You scream, your hips buck against his slamming hips. It was so raw, so rough, and you were enjoying every passing second.

Shouto chuckles at your praise, all while he continues to fuck you roughly. He was in a zone, his concentration like steel as he pounded into you again and again. Your inner walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating cock, and the heated pressure had built up all over again.

His cock twitched within you, it knocked the breath out of you; his fingers twisted into your hair.

“Fucking cum with me,” he demands, jerking your head back towards him again, and you sob as your legs tremble against his increasing power.

You feel your eyes cross, screaming out his name as your walls clamp down fiercely against his length. Shouto curses loudly, pulling out of you while your cum drips from your folds. But a hot and sticky substance hits the curve of your ass while Shouto lets out a string of curses, and you moan knowing that he came on you.

“That was two,” Shouto reminds you as you groan into the sheets.

“That was two,” you mock hoarsely, but you’re unable to move, your body locked in the way he had fucked you.

“Look,” Shouto says, ignoring your disrespect, for you can hear the prideful smirk on his tone as he forces you onto your side. “You made another mess.”

“You’re cleaning up Endeavors bed when we’re done,” you whimper, making no attempt to sit up, your body screaming in pain when you lay still.

“You really can’t seem to get his name out of your fucking mouth, can you?” Shouto barks while he moves to sit against the headboard. “What do I have to do to get you to fucking forget him? Choke you until you pass out? Break that pretty little mind and pussy of yours?”

There is no time to argue, Shouto grabs your legs and drags you over to him, your sensitive ass burning against the cum soaked comforter until you were at his side. Your pained breaths still as Shouto glares down at you, his left hand undoing the saliva-coated tie around your wrists, leaving the fabric slightly burnt while he tosses it to the side. Your arms throb as blood rushes back through it.

But before you could relish the feeling of your arms back, Shouto has his chest pressed against your back, and his right hand angling his once again hardening cock upwards.

“Since I mean nothing to you, make yourself cum.”

With that, he dropped your aching pussy onto his dick.

The feeling of his cock wholly sheathed within you, mercilessly slamming against the wall of your cervix and staying pressed tightly there. The delirious sensation made your head crash back against his shoulder, and your legs kicked out in response. Loud and low moans reverberated from your lips while adjusting to him buried within you again.

Your mind reeled while you adjusted, and Shouto angled his knees up, his scorching and robust grip moving your legs outside of his, causing your hips to spread against him.

“I told you to move,” he snaps, his fingers twisting your sensitive nipple harshly, your resulting wail muffled by you burying your face into his neck. “I didn’t pay for you to sit there.”

Puffs of air escaped your mouth quickly, and your feet shakily pressed into the mattress. You needed to move for him. But you were too slow, and a sharp and icy cold slap hit your clit.

Your body impulsively arched forward, your body rising up from his cock before you collapsed back down. But the sensation of his cock hitting your cervix made you shudder.

“Faster.”

So you began to rise and fall against his length, his hot breathing fanning against your sweat-soaked skin made your body shudder against his. His fingers found a place on your hips to hold, and you moaned at his bruising grip.

Your thighs burned with every bounce of your body, your head lolling to the side, stammering Shouto’s name as your walls clenched and squeezed against his hard cock. You wanted more of him. You needed more of him. Choked out screams rung from your throat as your hand gripped onto his knees, your body trying to support the numb ache that was shooting through your body.

“Shouto,” you puff, his fingers digging into your flesh, making you gasp.

“Why don’t you follow fucking instructions,” Shouto gnashes his teeth, and his left-hand moves from your hip to your clit. A jolt of massive arousal shoots through your body, a warm presence pressing into you as he teases your clit, causing you to roll your hips against his. But it grows hot, hotter, and hotter. It’s too hot, and his movements are painful yet disgustingly pleasurable. Pained and animalistic sobs pouring from your mouth while he deliberately abuses your throat. “What are you supposed to call me?!”

“S-Sir!” You weep, slamming your hips back down against his in pathetic attempt to lose his hold against your puffy nerve. “I’m supposed to c-call you, sir!!”

“Then why haven’t you been?!” Before you could attempt to respond, Shouto’s right-hand leaves your hip and slams to your throat, choking the response from you. “I don’t want to hear your answer.”

His hand remains heavy and tight around your throat, his hold barely allowing oxygen to travel through to your lungs. Your vision fuzzed, and you could feel your heartbeat in your head, but your core shook with Shouto’s now reciprocating and rhythmic slams.

Choking, clit stimulation, his cock pounding into your cervix, his fingers hotter than coal, and Shouto chuckled into your skin. His thrusting hips were becoming more precise, angling into you in a way that made you audibly choke when you needed to gasp. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen to your body that was making you delirious, or perhaps it was the fact that he was slamming into you with the strength of rearranging your guts, but your hips began to swivel at an inhumane pace. Your cunt held a vice grip around his cock, yet it did nothing to slow Shouto down, but the growing heated pit in your lower belly was making your legs tremble against his. Still, you tried to keep up with his rough and cruel pace, and Shouto enjoyed knowing that detail.

“Such a fucking tramp, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He sneers, his teeth biting down against the curve of your shoulder. “You enjoy being choked?”

Your head nods, “Y-Yes, sir!”

“Do you need to cum?” There was no reason for Shouto to ask that; the answer was obvious enough. “Good.”

If you thought Shouto was rough, as soon as that word rolled off his tongue, he only got worse.

His hand against your throat tightened, and black dots littered your vision; the coldness of his ice burned against your skin. His teeth sunk far into your skin, enough for you to feel your skin breaking as his tongue moving in cold and heated strokes to calm your now irritated skin. Then there were his nimble fingers running against your clit, and entering your cunt between your spastic walls and his hammering and throbbing cock. But your bouncing held no value anymore, Shouto’s hips snapped upwards fast enough and powerful enough to overcome and overwhelm you. The only thing you could tell was that along with the tip of his cock hitting your bruised walls, the sounds of your sopping wet pussy crashing against his forceful hips rang in your ears in a primal yet excited fashion.

Despite his hold on your neck, nothing was holding back the scream that left your mouth as you orgasmed.

White stars filled your vision as Shouto ripped his cock from you, and that same sensation of peeing bewildered you as he held your body up. You had squirted again, but your ragged and shallow breathing had only increased, and there was something warm and wet painted on your back.

“That was three,” Shouto whispers into your ear, his teeth tugging at your earlobe, and you shuddered. “I should get extra points for making you squirt.”

To that, all you could muster was an embarrassing moan as your dazed eyes focused on yet another wet stain on the bed. Three minutes left, that’s how much you had to endure to win.

Three more minutes.

Unfortunately for you, Shouto was well aware of this, so he wasted no time.

Once again, he shoved you to the side. Your body crumpling onto the mattress, aching and sharp pains flooding your body as you lay there. Your clit throbbed in time with your heartbeat, and your inner thighs were coated entirely with your cum — both new and old. Maybe your body would be incapable of cumming at this point now? You sure hoped so… or not.

“Up,” Shouto commanded but gave you no autonomy since he grabbed your hair by the roots and tugged you onto your knees. You whimper in your throat at the stabbing pain settling in your lower body, you were still recovering from him rearranging your guts. But you caught sight of the cum he had released onto your back pressed all over the covers, and your breathing stopped.

“Shou— ack!!”

A collar locked around your throat, and you wheezed loudly; you hadn’t managed to catch your breath still. Your body swayed forward into his hold as your head spun due to the lack of oxygen, but Shouto seized you his eyes wide and worried as he stared at you.

“Shit, baby, are you okay?”

You nodded your head, oxygen slowly spreading back into your body.

“Sorry,” you hoarse, pushing away, your face burning with embarrassment. “You just surprised me.”

Shouto seemed unconvinced as his hands held onto your cheeks, his fingers stroking your sweat plastered hair out of the way, tracing your bruised lips and against the marks and bites on your exposed skin. The delicate touches are long forgotten on your skin, your lips sighing while he sends warm pulses from his fingers to the aches of your joints.

“You sure?”

Rolling your eyes, you shoved Shouto away, “I’m fine! You just made me spread your cum on Endeavor’s bed!”

Just like that, your loving boyfriend died, and the man who had been fucking you this entire day was back. His hands locked back to where the collar was, and your eyes nearly boggled out of your sockets when he tightened it more until it burned to breathe. But you remained calmed as a black leash appeared from seemingly nowhere and attached to the collar.

“Since you liked being choked so much, I might as well give you what you want without straining me.”

Your eyes widened, your ability to talk back removed.

“Now, ride my cock again,” he grins with the slightest hint sadistic, and as you move to do as instructed, he yanks at the leash. Falling onto your hands, your eyes widen while you stare at Shouto, who merely raises a cocky brow at you. “You have two minutes to make yourself cum.”

“I’m not going to,” you strain, the choking of the collar and the simple manipulation of your body already making that all too familiar heat spread upon your loins.

“You don’t have a choice,” Shouto mocks, his hand moving to grasp the leash centimeters from the collar and yanks your face close to his. But the movement is sharp and rough, the collar strangling you. You scramble on your hands and knees to get closer, stopping when his lips ghost over yours. “And you won’t have one until you’re begging me to fuck you into a puddle, not until you’re nothing more than my cum slut, and until you no longer care about dirtying Endeavors bed.”

The words are fire on your skin, and bubbling lust grows in you again.

There’s nothing to say except give a doe-eyed nod, but Shouto appreciates this submission as his lips take yours. They’re hungry, possessive, and ardent, moving against your mouth with fervent intention. Your mind slips when you straddle him, your soaked core brushing against his tip, and Shouto guides you back down onto his cock.

Your abused pussy had been through a lot, and a loud hiss passes through your teeth as you sunk all the way on him. Your teeth biting onto Shouto’s lip to control the pain-filled pleasure that corroded your body at the moment. It still felt so crazed, the sensation of your heartbeat in your inner walls shifting and hugging Shouto’s still throbbing head,

But the slowness is gone when Shouto pulls away. His hands on the leash as he yanks the cord up and back down.

“Follow my actions, “ Shouto warns, and you weakly nod.

His hand moves the leash back and forward, and the soreness of your cunt bleeds into your actions as you imitate him. Your rolling hips are slow, your hands pressing against his shoulders as you roll your hips against him. There’s a dark mutter from Shouto’s mouth when you lock eyes with him, and his nostrils flare. His hand suddenly grabs onto your waist, making you freeze in your decent back down onto his cock, but he beats you too it, for his cock rams into your dripping cunt. A shriek ripping from your throat as he pounds into you. Your fingers digging into his shoulders to hold onto for support.

“SHOUTO!” You shriek as he ruthlessly slams into you. His hips coming up so fast your body bounces with every thrust. Your moans tumble out in chokes, your face turning red as oxygen fails to fill your lungs. The thrusting is intense, and your hands on his shoulder are more of a lifeline; the bed is quick to move with your movements, the considerable bed groaning under the harsh actions. Its squeaks and tremors are loud in your ear alongside his insistent pounding.

“What’s that, whore?” He growls, his hips hammering into you at mind fogging speed. The leash on the collar being yanked to pull you closer; your bare and sweat-slick skin pressed against his. “What’s my fucking name?!”

“Sir!” you shriek as your pussy throbs around his pounding cock. You’re unable to even twirl your hips in rhythm with him. You were stuck to the lap, only able to feel his cock entering you at toe-curling speeds. “Oh my god, FUCK, please— I —shit!”

Words failed you miserably as Shouto’s hot and sweet tongue drags against your collarbone, his teeth burying into your primed skin as your eyes roll back.

Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm. One more minute.

“You take my cock so well,” Shouto grunts as he releases one hand from your waist and runs it down your navel to press against your clit. Your head throws back, your back arching further into his chest as you scream again. Your pussy clenching with no remorse around his cock. “Your pussy is so fucking tight. Do you want to come now, slut?”

You can only shake your head, you didn’t want to cum; the pressure continues to build and build.

“I need to hear your words.”

“I don’t need to cum,” you sob out as your body trembles under his thrusting, you’re so close you see stars. “I don’t need to — sir, please, I can — oH SHIT!!!”

Shouto growls as his hand wraps around the leash, wrapping it around your bruised neck as he tightens the chokehold on you. You’re being strangled, and the air feels like its burning as it goes down your tightened passage, but your cunt throbs in excitement when he presses his mouth to your ear, “I don’t give a shit if you don’t need to cum, you’ll do it regardless.” Your mouth dropped open, your eyes crossing, and a loud whine emitted from you when his hand moved to pinch your nipple, and his mouth found a place on your sensitive nipple.

That’s all it takes, and you come hard around his dick, his name ripping through your abused body as he groans. His tongue lashes against your nipple, his teeth tugging at the pebbled skin all while he continues pummeling into you. Chasing after his own orgasm now.

You pant harshly, moving your hips against his own. Your pussy still twitching around his throbbing dick. You hear him expel a wavering sigh, and you can feel him come within you. The heated fluid fills you up, and he lets go of your sore breast; he collapses onto the bed with you landing on his chest.

“You lost,” he whispers after a moment of silence. Your breath picked up in a panic, you were fucked. “On your knees.”

You groan loudly when Shouto sits up, lifting you up with him, and you can feel the intermingled cum dripping out of you, falling onto your thighs. Your eyes flutter when Shouto kneels before you, his face victorious and poised as he undoes the collar against your throat. Although you took a full breath of air with every, inhale, your breathing is finicky as you’re terrified of what’s to come. You’re silent while watching Shouto make his way make to the no longer neat line of sex toys.

He grabs two things: the vibrator, spreader bar, and four of Endeavors’ ties.

Shouto rises to his feet as he walks back towards you, and while you hated doing this on Endeavors — now filthy — bed, your mouth opened.

“Close your mouth, whore,” Shouto chides, his arms above his head tying the colored fabric to the fan blades above the bed.

“What are you—?!”

“You care too much about making a mess for some selfish pig,” Shouto shrugs, he falls into a squat after securing the ties to the fan. There’s a dark and almost amused glint in his eyes when he stares at you. “Now, I’ll give you a reason to worry.”

Before you could protest, pull away, or scramble from the center of the bed, Shouto grabs your right hand and secures the tie around it.

“Shouto!” You panic when he succeeds in capturing both your wrists. Breathing sharply, you looked up at the flimsy blades that curved under the weight of your arms. If you moved to harshly, if you struggled against this punishment or collapsed too early, it would break. Oh, no… snapping your head behind you to where your boyfriend was relocking your ankles into the spreader bar. “Please, baby, I can’t do this!”

Shouto ignores you, and cold sweat runs through you at what’s to come, you wouldn’t be able to resist bringing your elbows down if the vibrator was pressed into your clit. How were you supposed to not wholly destroy Endeavors’ property?!

“S-Sir, think this through!” You begin to word vomit in your desperation while Shouto presses the vibrator against your right thigh, the smooth head holds against your clit, and he uses two more ties to secure it into place. “The bed is already a-a mess, I squirted! Twice! You came two times on the bed! Not to mention my saliva and the cum that’s dripping out of me! I can’t — we can’t break his fan!”

Shouto is unconcerned, his tongue tracing his teeth while mocking concern, “Then I guess you’ll have to work extra hard not to ruin more things in his room. Considering you care about that shit still.”

Your mouth opened to argue again, your body feeling like you needed to fight this because there was no way you were going to be able to last with your arms above your head, legs unable to come together, and a vibrator pulsating into your cunt. But as soon as you made your initial noise, Shouto turned on the vibrator to low.

The low buzz of the vibrator filled the room, and your mouth dropped in a silent scream. Your body was half numb already, having cum multiple times within the past hour was causing your body to convulse on occasion, but now with the vibrations being sent straight to your core, you felt on edge once again.

Trying to control your visible reaction, your hands gripped onto the cloth ties, your arms quivering as you try to keep from pulling down, and your hips thrusting subconsciously to the vibrations.

“S-Sir!” You sob as the slow and steady build in your belly was already growing. Your eyes locked on Shouto, who was a length away, his eyes gleaming in sadistic joy as his hand ran up and down his once again hardening cock. “P-Please, tie me to the bed! Not to Endeavor’s fan.”

The glint disappeared.

“You just won’t let me enjoy my fucking victory, will you?!”

You sucked in a harsh breath when you shifted your hips, the head of the vibrator brushing deliciously against your softly throbbing clit. You thrilled at the feeling of the vibrations on your clit, and your toes curled as your head fell forward. You needed to keep vigilante, you had to continue complaining so that Shouto would cave.

But you had completely forgotten about the ball gag.

“Open up.” Your head shakes no when Shouto holds the ball gag against your lips, there’s a warning noise. A dark growl emitted from his throat, and you feel your heart rate spike when his other hand roughly pinched in your cheeks. Your mouth opens against your will, and you splutter when his fingers shove into your mouth. You try to bite down on his fingers, but Shouto’s fingers turn ice cold making your mouth widen further, so then the gag was placed behind your teeth pressing into your tongue. You feel him lean against you, his lips by your ear as he whispers, “I don’t fucking remember asking.”

His hand lowers, and he amps up the vibration of the vibrator, and your body stiffens under the powerful waves. Being gagged was the worst, first drool always seeped past your lips with this particular gag on, and the uncomfortable pressure on your tongue sent your gag reflex flaring. Staring up at the ceiling, your noises were muffled at the source, staggering pleasure shooting through your veins as the medium vibrations made your long-abused cunt weep.

Your slick coated the head of the vibrator, and soaked you inner thighs, soaking the tie where it held contact with your skin. Your body spasmed as you sobbed in pleasure, your mind reeling and short-circuiting when your head dropped.

Focusing onto Shouto, your legs nearly gave out at the sight of your sweating and smirking boyfriend, his ears tinged with blush, and his fist stroking his huge cock. You wanted to have him slamming into you with the vibrator pressed into your clit, not this.

“Aren’t you having fun,” he pronounces slowly, his eyes — still dark with excitement and lust — dropped to your soaked thighs. “You look fucking delicious right now, princess.”

You clenched your core, the feeling of the vibrator only intensified, and you gagged when you tried to cry out. The feeling of your saliva pooling from your lips mortified you, your body twitching as Shouto only laughs again.

“I think we should go higher,” Shouto groans, his eyes momentarily closing as you assume a particularly gratifying shiver crawls down his spine. The muffled sounds of your disapproval only make his smirk more sinister when he abandons his own length and moves closer to you. Your eyes are wide, body attempting to shift away from him, but there was nowhere to go.

Air passed through your nose are heavy and sharp breaths, your chest hammering, and your puffy nerves throbbing while the vibrator continued powering into you.

“You’re so messy,” he drawls on his knees before you, his fingers touching the saliva coating your chin, and you sob in anticipation of what’s to come. He trails his fingers down your throat, the slickness of your saliva cold against your raw and bruised neck. “Maybe you don’t really care about fucking up scums bed, do you?”

You make a disapproving noise, your will holding on to a thread, and you vigorously shake your head. Shouto hums, his upper lip curling before his hand flattened and smacked your breast right on your nipple.

There was a loud crack when your arms pulled down, and you shrieked, your eyes trying to choose between focusing on Shouto and the fan blade you very much could have just broken. You whimper, your body twisting in an attempt to show submission, but Shouto isn’t done.

With an icy cold hand, he hits your aching and hot breast again and again and again. Your pained and pleasured wails muffled while you choke against the ball, and saliva pours from your mouth, your body trembling with excitement.

“Shut up,” he hisses, bringing his other hand to your face and striking you.

Your head slams to the side, the throbbing of your cunt intensifies with the burning of his handprint. Why did you like being slapped?! Saliva dribbles from your lips when you straighten back up. A now unignorable ache fills your arms from being in this tiresome position for a while now.

Everything felt like it was burning, sensations, and wantonness flooding your senses galore.  

“I forget you like this,” Shouto groans as his hands grope your breast. Pulling, kneading, gripping and pinching the soft and moldable flesh in his hands, Shouto grins at your whimpers and the soft groans of the fan above the two of you. “Break the fan, I dare you.”

Your eyes slam shut at those words, and they remained closed as his hot and cold hands trail down your torso, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Your lips twitch, the involuntary action to bite down on your lip prohibited by the gag. He must have seen considering the teasing pinch to your ass.

It was then that you froze. He was flushed against you, and the feeling of his cock pressing into the bottom of your sternum. Shouto’s right hand snaked behind you, those fingers playing with your dripping sex, and his left hand skimmed down your right inner thigh, resting onto the switch that changed the vibrational power.

“Don’t worry, princess,” he speaks in a low tone, an arrogant tone to his voice, “I’ll make you cum again.”

There was no time to contemplate his actions, for the vibrator was turned onto the highest setting and pressed into your clit, and his fingers sunk into your sopping wet cunt.

Even with the ball gag, the shriek of being overstimulated was as loud. It was as if you didn’t have the gag on at all. Your arms lurched forward against your will, the fan creaking loudly as you fell onto Shouto. You trembled more than a leaf in a storm, his fingers pumping deliciously and savagely into you, leaving behind the squelching noise of your wet core. The buzzing of the vibrator clear and steady and his cock twitched between the two of your bodies.

Sobbing and drooling moans escaped the gag, and Shouto relished in his ability to manipulate your body like this. His teeth leaving nipping kisses against the broken skin he left minutes before.

But the feeling of his teeth against your aggravated skin, the sensation of the powerful vibrations against your clit, and how he was still so responsive to you was nothing against his pistoning fingers dragged against that particular spot in your walls. His fingers scraped and slammed against your g-spot, and you felt your vision give way as a powerful force crashed through you.

You had squirted again, only that it seemed to last forever this time. Your lower body throbbing in its wake.

Your head collapsed against his shoulder, and when your vision came back, it was hazy and swam in your eyes. Whether Shouto had noticed or not, he still was slamming his fingers within your cunt with such intensity that — alongside the still buzzing vibrator — pressure built again within you. Heat seeped through you, and tears fell from your eyes when you came again.

Everything felt lethargic when Shouto removed his knuckle deep fingers from your sopping cunt, his tongue lapping away any of your essence remaining on his fingers. With a long pause, he finally turned off the vibrator.

Your breathing was shallow, your head spinning while he removed the bondage from your wrists and ankles. Collapsing onto your face, you felt your slick running thick on your thighs, mixing with the sweat that soaked your skin too.

Good god, were you exhausted.

“You broke the fan,” Shouto murmured.

Shrieking against the gag, adrenaline shot through your veins as you looked up. The fan blade had visible cracks in it, and your jaw dropped further.

Oh, fuck!

“Still haven’t learned,” he sighs, shaking his head. “That’s okay, you’ve always been a stubborn bitch.”

You whimper in agreement, your leg shifting so that you could feel the wet puddle you had made this time around. However, there was no time to relax.

Shouto grabbed you by your armpits and dragged you to the edge of the bed. Choking, you stared at him startled. There was no use in asking what was happening; Shouto bent your knees and wrapped two ties around each leg. One holding your ankle and upper thigh together, and the other one near your knee.

“Good,” Shouto approved, walking back to the side of the bed where the toys lay. Though soreness struck your body, you rose to your elbows and watched Shouto grab the fuck machine before returning to the bedside. “Because you squirted.” He says with a coy smile, lining the dildo to your exposed pussy and thrusting it in.

Your body slammed back down against the bed at the slickness of the dildo. You were so used to Shouto’s cock that the dildo was foreign as it buried within you.

“Now,” he sighs as he turns on the machine. Immediately the fuck machine blows into your tight and slippery cunt, your eyes rolling backward at the mere sensation of the speed it was at, and a loud mewl leaves your throat. His fingers snuck behind your head, unfastening the gag, and is removed with a saliva string, and a sob croaked through your voice as your mouth was finally free. “Suck my dick.”

With your head past the edge of the mattress, and the height lining you near perfectly to Shouto’s cock, he slides his cock into your sore throat. But ever so eager, Shouto wastes no time starting his conquest.

You try to keep up with the momentum of the toy and his viciously thrusting hips, your hips snapping against the toy despite its insane speed. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, and you choke against his cock. Shouto chuckles, his hands kneading your breasts, his moans tight and low, it had been a while since the last time he came.

“Look at you, so desperate,” Shouto chuckles, his fingers tweaking your hard nipples. “So fucking needy.”

The words ignite a fire within you, and your legs tremble in unspoken glee. You wanted him to fuck you until you were nothing less than a mess. You needed him to give you his cock instead of this stupid fucking machine — wait…

Your eyes widened when you realized the extent to your thoughts.

Fuck Endeavor, you thought, a shiver rolling down your spine. Your boyfriend was giving you the best dick down of your life, and you were too preoccupied with foolish worry! Shouto promised he was going to be cleaned up. You wanted Shouto, you needed him. Maybe you were whipped.

Your arms shot out, gripping the back of Shouto’s thighs as you willed him closer. Your jaw widening; you let hot breaths of air expelled from your mouth. You could feel Shouto peering down on you, but rolling your hips against the machine that was making your stomach bulge with every slam of its rod, your tongue lashed against his swollen head. Shouto’s thighs clench when your mouth sucks against the head of his cock, your tongue pressing flat against the tip.

“Did someone finally fucking wake up?” Shouto grunts, his hips moving with more unrestraint into your mouth.

Making a pleasant sound, you hollowed your cheeks out and tasted the saltiness of his pre-cum. Delighting at the harsh curse, you guided him further in.

One of his hands is soon braced on the fuck machine between your legs, but the other is tangled in your hair, pulling it and twisting it as he wishes. He’s pulling hard enough to hurt, enough so that you can choke against him, the angle and the position on your back already increasing the likeliness of that happening.

Shouto’s grip on your hair tightens, and he realizes that you’re keeping up impeccably. His dance between aggression and concupiscence is too much for you to keep up with. You don’t have time to tease his length with your tongue; he steers his cock further down your throat. You don’t bother to hide how satisfied you are by his action as you relax your throat and hollow your cheeks against the length of his snapping cock.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his hips bucking forward, he can’t stop himself from demanding more. You don’t mind; you open wider to take more of him in, and his cock thrusts further down your throat. He’s now panting, in his desperation, judging from the strangled sound he makes as you take him even deeper. “You take my cock so good, princess.”

He was doing this for you, despite everything that could happen to him after this night was done. Shouto loved you enough to tarnish his dad’s room with you. The thought makes you moan, and you wiggling trying to take him deep enough now that he must be able to feel the vibrations from your throat because that makes him hiss out another curse. He’s shaking with the effort of slamming his cock down your throat and holding the machine.

The raw, primal, and wet noises of his cock entering and leaving your throat are maniacal, added onto that is the dildo penetrating your sopping cunt again. The pressure is back, and it’s settled deep in your lower belly, and you want to cum more.

He’s underestimating you, however; you could take him in all power and length he could muster. You know that as you begin bobbing your head despite the backwardness of your position. Digging your fingernails into his ass, you silently letting him know that you’re okay, and he understands.

Shouto grunts, bending his knees as he begins to face fuck you with no remorse. It’s savage, uncontrolled, and brutal. Your choking noises music to both your ears; he doesn’t let up, only snapping his hips faster, harder, rougher. Your eyes begin to roll backward at the force, his balls slapping you in the face with every slam of energy.

But you like — you lust — the sensation of the raw and primitive fucking he was giving you, and you felt your hips rising off the bed when your walls begin to clamp against the insanely moving dildo. Yet, when you shifted higher, his hands slammed down against your hips, keeping you down, and you cry around his cock.

“Take my fucking cock like the slut you are,” he snarls, taking giant thrusts until his cock is completely buried in your throat, your nose pressed into his balls. Your tongue still revolves around the veins in his cock while you grip his ass. You choke against him, the noise music to his ears, while your legs spasm as your orgasm is hitting you.

“Y/n,” he manages to get out through gritted teeth. “Fuck, y/n. You—” He cuts himself off with another groan as the tip of his cock hits so far down your throat you feel your neck bulge.

There’s a brief moment of panic as you struggle to breathe. The force a but more than you expected, but you relax, getting yourself to calm back down. But then you inhale through your nose and force your throat to rest until you can take him all in, the oxygen burning as it made its way past his cock in your throat. Not long after that, Shouto lets out a long, loud groan when his seed shoots down your throat.

It burns, and to your horror, you find yourself unable to take the sheer force of his load and the fact that he just seemed to keep unloading within you. Uncontrollable panicked coughing and choking rattle your throat while Shouto is still balls deep in you. The second he removes his cock from your throat, you shoot up, your core throbbing, and your airway burning as cum drips out from your nose.

You continue hacking, the bitter taste of cum scorching your throat, and you continued to rub cum from your nose. It burned and hurt to breathe. Turning your head towards Shouto, who turned off the fucking machine, his eyes were locked on you already, a grin on his face while he ran a hand through his hair.

“That was hot,” Shouto rustles, running the flat of his thumb against your upper lip, smearing his cum against your skin.

“That fucking hurt!” You snap, throwing his hand off your face, a fire exploding under your skin because you were more embarrassed than anything. You enjoyed the feeling of his cum coming out of your nose, but you weren’t about to admit it!

“I don’t care,” Shouto perversely informs you, his hands taking you cheeks and twisting you towards him before his lips press against yours.

His lips are libidinous against yours, his mouth opening as he coaxed you to join him in this affair. His kiss was bruising, his teeth knocking against yours when hot and breathless puffs of air exchanged between your mouths. The heated pressure does nothing to ease the burning in your throat, only intensifying the pain while you dig your fingers into his back, leaving crescent marks and bloodied tears behind. The pain does not deter Shouto, not even a little bit. There’s an approval growl emitting from his throat and his tongue soon pressed against yours, and you resisted the sharp moan threatening to leave while his muscle danced with yours.

“Stop holding it in,” he grunts, “make everyone know that you’re being fucked.”

The next noise to escape your mouth is a loud mewl when Shouto sucks against your own tongue, his eyes ablaze while he stares down at you, victory and lust in his eyes.

“Where should I fuck you next?” He asks, his body pressing you down into the mattress, ignoring your pained hisses for your legs were still bound. His fingers dig into your breasts, pinching at the edges of your areola instead of your nipple. Your fingers dug deeper into his skin when you sob at the teasing. “How does that filthy little cunt of yours want to be ruined next?”

“In his chair!” you cry in gluttony, your body thrashing and reaming against his touch. “Fuck me in his chair, sir!”

“Look at that, maybe the slut can learn,” Shouto grins into your skin, the tracing movements salacious, and he stands. You’re weightless when Shouto scoops you from the bed, his hands supporting your tender ass. Mindlessly, your mouth nibbles against his throat, leaving purple hickies in your wake while he collects more items.

The taste of his salty sweat invades your senses, your tongue lapping, and circling against his skin while Shouto gave no attention towards your actions. He merely dumped you onto the cool leather of Endeavors desk chair, and you arched in pain.

“Now, now,” he ruthlessly grabbed the ties on your legs. He slides them off with such amoral strength your skin throbs in his wake. Your legs, finally free, slam to the ground, and you let out a fervid noise as you stare up at your boyfriend, whose stomach is taut and sheened with sweat. “I thought you liked pain.”

“You haven’t been giving me any,” you sneer, your tongue dragging against your bottom lip.

Rage fills his eyes, and he chuckles depravedly, “Okay, brat.”

Grabbing your hips, he drags you on the chair so that your ass barely remains on the cold leather. Shoving you down by your chest, the wind is knocked out of you, and you heave when he grabs onto your ankles. With a familiar tightness and the strain of having your knees under your shoulders, the spreader bar is placed behind the chairs back, keeping you trapped to the chair.

You’re folded in half, and his hand pressed onto your stomach before he began to tie your arms and thigh down. Two ties to secure your wrist into place, two ties to secure your thighs into place. The position — being placed into an ‘L’ shape — prohibited you from breathing correctly as your inflexibility flashed through your muscles.

“Oh my god,” you breathe while Shouto presses the back of the chair into the desk for additional support. Your wrists throbbed with the loss of blood circulation, and Shouto stood before you, his hand fisting himself.

“Hard to breathe?” He mocks, his cock now fully erect again.

“Make me stop breathing, pussy,” you challenge unwavering.

“God, I was hoping you’d say that,” he smirked, grabbing the top of the chair, and placing his feet by the side of the bed, he rammed himself into your cunt.

There was nothing for you to do except pathetically howl when he slammed into your cervix, your body tied so tight to the chair any other action was stopped.

“You’re so fucking tight like this,” Shouto hisses, but you could hardly tell the difference with the way he pummels his cock deep within you. Perfectly hitting the back of your wall every time.

His girth was stretching you out far more than you could seem to remember, his thrusts were urgent as they were voracious, slamming deep into you with every second, scrambling your mind with every shift. But, he didn’t gag you, and you weren’t one to give in.

“It’s because you n-never fuck me r-rIGHT!”

His left fingers slammed into your mouth, his fingers touching the back of your throat as you choked against him in your surprise. Tears watered in your eyes, and his fingers dug into your spongy muscle, making you gag even more laborious.

It already hurt to breathe, with the sensation of his cum still falling from your nose, the angle of which you were tied up, and his finger in your throat, you began to panic. Your eyes close, your throat relaxing immediately to let things be okay. But as soon as you regain your breath, you feel your core throb in how much you liked that. Tears flow down your cheeks, your eyes locked on Shouto, who’s scorching you with his sight.

“I thought you were going to tap out,” he taunts, and your tongue pushes up against his fingers, your throat humming lowly to control the insistent gag at the back of your throat. “You’re crying, and yet you’re still so defiant.”

You tilt your head up, alleviating the pressure of his fingers in your throat, and still looking like a brat.

But his cock brushes against your g-spot and your eyes nearly bug out in ecstasy for his right-hand wraps around your neck. His cock still slams into you with speed and power, the oxygen in your body being denied with his tight grip around your neck, his fingers beginning to thrust within your mouth emulating a cock, and the chair starts to squeak with every movement.

Your ass pathetically rises off the chair, a desperate attempt to move in time with his drilling cock. Both of you delirious under your overstimulation and refusal to stop until there was evidence for years that the two of you fucked in Endeavors’ room. His grip around your neck soon became bruising, where his fingertips were burned you, but you cared not. His cock was stretching you out in shameless thrill, the angle only increasing the pleasure buzzing through you. Your eyes cross over in your elation, and you splutter when his fingers leave your throat, moving to press cold and wet figure-eights onto your clit.

“Fucking take my cock,” he growls.

Your head nods, the heated pressure in your belly scorching. Your walls clamp down against his hammering cock, but it doesn’t slow him down, only encouraging him to increase his speed and strength until the chair creaked against your weight. The sopping noises of your meeting sex filled your ears, and you moaned loudly, your teeth biting down onto your lip.

It takes his cock brushing against your g-spot for your legs to slam forward, your arms nearly succeeding in destroying endeavors ties as you try sitting up as your orgasm slams through you.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” You scream hoarsely. Your scream only increases in great thrill when you feel the chair snap under the force of his fuck. But Shouto ignores it, his hips continuing to drill into you, his hand clamping tighter against your neck, cutting off your voice. Shouto isn’t done yet, after all.

His hands move to grip the exposed back of your thighs, his grip bruising your supple skin. He slams into you faster, his cock continuing unaffected by your convulsing walls. There are no other noises except your wet cunt meeting his cock, your shrieks of approval, and Shouto’s heavy breathing as he continues to drive into you. His body is giving you unreplicable sensations, and your body only making Shouto stammer and curse loudly.

His lips find yours, and there is nothing to say, the kiss is messy, more teeth than anything. Saliva passed between the two of you without care, as he chases his orgasm. His brutal pace continues, your name growled from your throat, until one last thrust and one final clamp from your cunt sends him over.

He pulls out as soon as he cums, his seed slipping down from your slit, tickling your tight ass and dripping onto the chair and the floor.

Your eyes are barely opened; you try to peer at Shouto, who is pressing his right hand to his forehead.

“You cheat,” you rasp, knowing that he had successfully cooled his body down.

He smiles at you wickedly, choosing to ignore you before walking back.

“Look at that,” Shouto whispers, bending down so that his face is level with your cunt and ass. “Can’t have anything not falling onto Endeavors things getting out of you…”

His finger pushes his cum back into your sore cunt, and you sharply breath when he pats your cunt.

“You want me to have your babies,” you tease, and he remains silent, dragging his fingers down the center of your pussy. His breathing teases your sensitive flesh, and you feel yourself clench when he pulls his fingers lower than where he usually goes. Soon, his fingers trace around your puckered asshole.

“S-Sir,” you pant, your chest rising as far up as you could in this position, and your eyes widened when he looked up at you.

“Have you ever wanted to try anal?”

Your mouth drops when the pad of his finger teases your other entrance, and your thighs shook while you remained silent.

His opposite hand struck your ass sharply, your body thrashing as it stung against your unprepared skin.

“Answer me.”

“Y-Yes!”

“Yes, what?!”

“I want your cock in my ass!”

Your boyfriend’s quirk did not involve speed; in fact, without his quirk, he was not that fast. Sure he was athletic and adequately trained, but in comparison to those on the Hero field, if you took away quirk usage, he was barely above average. But there were times that you believed he was incredibly fast, and this was one of those moments.

You found your face, chest, and knees buried back into the mattress, your back arched so much you swore you would need a spine replacement after this, and the ties and spreader bar were gone.

His fingers slide between your folds, lathering in your essence. A low groan left your lips at the feeling, and you quivered when Shouto’s hands spread your ass cheeks.

“B-Be gentle,” you whimper when he presses the pad of his forefinger against your pert hole. Your ass tightened instinctively, and Shouto huffed but pressed his finger in. A weird full pain shot through you when the tip of his finger entered your rectum, your ass squeezing against his finger, trying to deny him entrance.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, his other hand massaging your ass cheek, trying to calm your instincts to let him in.

Your fingers dig into the comforter, the still wet fabric from your multiple orgasms was cold under your heated fingers. But something cold splashed against your ass, and you shook, demanding to know what it was.

“Lube,” he answers, a smirk evident in his tone as his fingers leave your asshole. A soft groan exhales from your breath at him exiting your ass, and soon enough, his finger returns to your puckered tight hole. The feeling of his fingers pushing in you to his first knuckles sends your ass flying backward toward him, a desperate and idiotic way of getting him further in.

It was a weird feeling, almost reminiscent to the first time you had sex, only completely different. It made your head spin in a frenzied way and felt backward but in a way where you needed more.

“You like this,” he laughs, his lips pressing against your spine. Your head nods, you’re unable to speak as his fingers push into you and pull back out. It’s a slow and chilling movement that fills your asshole and makes you dizzy.

“Shit,” you breathe, your body rattling, your ass rolling against his fingers.

“Are you ready for my cock, whore?” He asks, and you whine in response. His hand grips your ass, and his finger curls within you. You loudly call out his name, feeling your body turning weak as you lay there, a slave to his manipulation. His manipulation of your ass sends warm liquid falling down your thighs, shining against your skin as his hand smacks your inner thigh, and he relishes in your high pitched squeal. “You finally cave to anal when I’m fucking you here. Is this what you wanted all along?”

Your eyes clamp shut as his fingers exit your ass, and you only manage a panting groan in response. There’s a soft ripping noise before a package hits your face.

Your eyes open to see a condom package sitting by your face, its empty, and you shift your head to stare at Shouto who’s unraveling the condom on his cock.

“You haven’t used those in a while,” you remark snidely, your eyes glowing with amusement as he locks onto you, his eyes rolling.

“I remember a certain someone begging for me to put it in her raw,” he smoothly states, lube in his hands now, and he applies a lot on the smooth condom. “Besides, you want my cock up your ass, you don’t get to play that card right now.”

“Yeah, well — oHMY GOD!”

Shouto, without warning, presses the head of his cock within your asshole. It stretches you out disgustingly, sharp pain throbbing in your ass and cunt as he settles within you. Despite his cock halfway buried within your ass, it’s your pussy that weeps. Your slick runs rampant down your inner thigh, falling onto the bed top. Shouto’s fingers dig into your waist, the both of you breathing heavy at this new feeling.

Slowly, his fingers move to your breast and your nipples, and with the smallest nod from you, he begins.

In and out, he moves, his hips moving faster than a manageable speed, and your eyes welled with tears at the constipated feeling in your asshole. His fingers tweak and pull at your clit and nipple, savagely teasing them, uncaring that your cries left drooling puddles on the bed. His thrusting movements became quicker, harder, and more solid until a familiar sensation of his balls slapping your skin burned your mind.

“More,” you beg against the sheets, drool coating your cheek, your body nothing more than his fuck toy. “Fuck my asshole harder.”

Shouto merely growls, the pinch on your clit, making your hips buck against his cock, and he began to barbarically slam into you. It was as if it was your pussy and not your ass he was drilling into.

Your body shifts with his every movement, your slick pouring from your cunt, and he let go of your nipple. In your crazed state, you sob at the loss of contact, but his hand strikes against your soaked cunt with a loud sound. The force alone nearly sends your eyes flying open, your vision blurring when his finger dive into your sex.

His fingers work at double the speed of which his hips slam into you. His fingers pushing the limits of your velvet walls; he curls his fingers against your walls, dragging them deliciously against your clenching heat. Then there was his cock, and at times the thin walls that separated his fingers and his cock brushed together, sending you into a new frenzy while you sobbed his name.

Begging for more, begging to come.

“You already need to come?!” He snaps, his hips not at all weak, and you moaned loudly, knowing that he was nowhere close. “Then come you, filthy bitch, I just started, and you need to come!”

“I-It feels so fucking good,” you garble, your jaw unable to move for its slack against the mattress, electrifying pleasure singing your nerves, and with a loud smack to your pussy, you come hard against his fingers, splashing against the bed top.

There’s no time wasted; Shouto pulls himself from your ass and shoves you onto your back again. There’s no fightback, no attitude, from you. Without being forced to, your legs are brought to your chest while Shouto discards the condom onto the bed.

“Aren’t you so fucking enthusiastic, getting all ready for me without asking,” Shouto grins, his hands grabbing your legs right below your ankle. “Do you know what I’m going to do to you right now?”

“Y-You’re going to fill me up with your cum,” you stammer for he pushes your legs slowly towards you, the stretch in your muscles overwhelming for your sore body. “You’re going to give me your babies.”

“What else?” He taunts, the top of his cock rubbing against your clit.

“B-Breed me like the bitch I am, sir!” Your cry, wanting nothing more than his cock to bury all nine inches in you.

“Come for me one more time, and I’ll make sure to fill you until you’re dripping with my semen for an entire week,” Shouto promises, and his hips slam within you.

Your knees are buried within the mattress by your head, your feet curling and pressing against each other.  Shouto lays on top of you, the penetration deep, and his hands gripping yours. The weight of having him on you is exhilarating, and for the first time this night, his lips press hungrily against yours while ball deep within you.

His cock slams against the wall of your cervix repetitively while his lips overwhelm you. Each slam into you is massive and powerful. Powerful enough to have you sobbing into his mouth while he kisses you, his hands clutching your smaller ones in his.

Again and again, he slams into you. His thrusts knocking the wind out of you until you release his hands and find yourself digging your fingers into his back, crying out his name desperately while his teeth find a home on your neck, sinking into flesh he had long ago broke. The powerful pounding of his cock makes you keen, your hips jerking up to meet his, but you’re useless against his downward thrusts.

“Impregnate me, sir,” you gasp, your eyes rolling back in pleasure, “breed me, please!”

“You’ll be full of my fucking kids in no time, your cute belly will be round with my kid,” he snaps, his cock throbbing within your pussy, and loud echoing slaps fill the room. Your nails claw at his back, marking him in multiple places with clean four red lines.

You couldn’t take the feeling of how his body moved perfectly within you, the strength and power behind his every move were almost too natural as if this was an everyday thing. You let out noises reasonably similar to a purr, grinding your cunt against his conquesting cock and laughing breathlessly at his low groan.

“You like this, whore?” Shouto nips at your throat, his thrusts making you shriek out his name as he buries you further into the bed, your nails digging into his flesh. “You like the way my cock fills your pussy the same way it did that pretty little ass?” You nod rapidly, your eyes closed, your mouth open, your pants tumbling from your mouth. Your sanity was lying on a string, his actions the reasons for your downfall.

His leverage was small, but every thrust seemed to have his cock being pulled out of you nearly completely. Before he drilled back into your pussy. The noises of your connecting wet sex left loud echo with your squelching pussy around his hot cock.

The muscles on his back seemed to flare dramatically, your screams turning silent due to your approval of this.

“You like the way I fuck your pussy? The way that I’ll fill you with my seed for days to come?” he growls into your ear, his hips inhumanly slamming into you.

“I need you to breed me,” you sob, the fire in your face as bright and hot as the one between your legs. His sweaty forehead pressed against yours, and his lips recapture yours.

Your mind goes blank when a mighty crash goes through you. But Shouto must not have felt the familiar spastic clamping of your inner walls as he continues pistoling his hips into you, hitting your cervix, and pushing it further up with every slam. You cry against his mouth, your hands shoving at his shoulders as the feeling of your orgasm was too strong to deny, and he slips out of you.

You squirt wildly, your juices going everywhere, wetting his groin area, and splashing against the bed.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he growls, and once again slams into you.

Your scream is silent, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your fingers digging into his neck, and your toes curl. His hips are driving, persistent, and have a goal in mind. You can barely keep up with him, your long overstimulated body wanting to collapse at the seams, but he doesn’t stop.

The bed creaks loudly under you, headboard crashing into the wall, over and over again.

“Cum, sir,” you beg, your hips wildly thrashing against his. “Please, fill me with your seed!”

That’s all it takes, and a hot and heavy load shoots through you, and Shouto collapses onto you at the same time the bed falls. Neither one of you reacts as gravity shifts you both slightly downwards, but your mind is too full of Shouto to care. His body twitching while his cock remains hard within you, the feeling of his cum swimming in your cunt, making your head spin with euphoria.

Drowsiness hits you quickly, and Shouto’s body heat is quickly putting you to sleep.

He pulls out of you gently, and the feeling of his cock no longer in you makes you whimper, your nose burying into his neck as he flips the two of you over so that you’re laying on his chest. His hands send warm and cooling waves through your body, helping soothe the aches in your tired body.

Who knew Endeavor was the key to making Shouto lose control. Maybe you needed to get him to fuck you on this bed more often now.

You can feel the cum seeping from your cunt, and Shouto must have too, for he scooped it back in with his fingers, and you chuckled at the feeling of his warm fingers against your seizing cunt. This was nice, you loved this.

“I didn’t go too overboard, did I?” He asks, his voice small given that he saw the blood that trailed down your neck and the raised handprints on your ass.

“No,” you say, your hands running down his muscled sides. “Not at all, I really enjoyed this, sir.”

Your words are teasing, and the two of you chuckle as silence overtakes the two of you.

“I love you, y/n,” he whispers, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“I love you, too, Shouto,” you mumble, your eyes fluttering closed, sleep consuming you.

You don’t remember anything else, only that you woke up the next morning in your bed, your body is strewn with purple bruises, red hickies, and handprints on your body, wearing nothing but Shouto’s shirt and your panties.

“Good morning beautiful,” his voice greets you, and you sigh, soreness rampaging your body.

“Good morning, my love.”

Bonus!

Endeavor walked into his house at three in the morning, the strains of a late night at work had truly exhausted him.

Shouto, who he had asked to take care of his house for only two hours had stayed much later. His son had informed him that he left ten minutes before he arrived. It was too bad, Endeavor thought, he wasn’t able to get back on time to see his son and girlfriend. Tossing his case to the floor, Endeavor was ready for bed.

Trudging through his house, he was quick to realize how humid the house was when he neared his room. His eyebrows scrunched, his attention on alert as he threw open the door, the lights and fan turned on by mistake.

CRASH!

Endeavors’ eyes widened at the sight of the cum-stained bed, the ruined sheets, the slanted chair, and his bed being held together by ice. His eyes locked on the fan blade that fell from its place; it was cracked entirely in the middle. There was no denying that his room was wholly and disgustingly used, and for what?! His stupid kid didn’t ever need to stay!

“SHOUTOOOOOO!”

[wolfgangisdead]

for whom the sun rises

part one

moon knight (tv show)

Steven Grant x Oc, Marc Spector x Oc

enemies/frenemies to lovers (Marc), friends to lovers (Steven), Angst, fluff, potential ooc Steven, I'm essentially making this up as I go

NOTE there's been a change in Khnum's design, he'll be from now on described as having an actual ram head. It's easier to draw and seems more fitting for him as the Divine Potter. I also feel like I'm consistently going to not write Steven's personality well at all so if anyone has any tips on writing him better feel free to send them! I'm confident I'd be better with Marc. i feel like it's obvious this is my first fanfic in years lmao

Khnum is far more displeased by the idea of being in London than anything else. Millie knows him to be a quieter god, unlike others, and yet when they had first set foot in London, all he did was mention how horrid it was that it was grey and bleak. He'd rather be in Egypt, basking in the rays, or perhaps Rome or Greece, watching the 'idiots', as he put it, wrestle until someone is declared a winner.

"There is doubt in your mind, child, speak it before it destroys you," he follows behind her, visible to no one else except for her. It's a shame, really. A nearly nine foot behemoth of a ram, staring you down with his piercing goat-like eyes? Yeah, she's sure the humans would love that.

"we are in London and there's no tasks for me," she retorts with a frown, "I can't simply wait on Steven to be my friend, give me something to do."

"You want for something to do? You desire to fiddle and work? Then you shall," he says, but she knows there's a catch, "befriend Steven. You have so little friends, it is pitiful."

"Oh, you're an ass, I was already planning to befriend him anyway. He seems sweet, and so genuinely... lost? I just have a need to help him, okay? Like it's... why am I talking to a god that only I can see as if he's my best friend." She stares blankly, ignoring the way the people that walk past her send her odd looks. Just another delusional American to them, she supposes.

"Back in my youth, everyone had friends, but you? You have a man who looks upon you and wishes you were another," he replies, unbothered, "you must get out and socialize. Your apartment is not nearly as comfortable as you think."

Millie stares at him, but then she sighs heavily. Back in his day? Yeah, back in his fucking day you married at thirteen, had five kids by sixteen, and died by your late twenties, early thirties. He's older than sliced bread, women's rights, and cellphones. It's amazing he's even talking in a language she knows fluently.

"Do you think Set is in the market for an avatar? I think working for him would be fun." She hears Khnum snort from behind her.

"You don't have the heart to kill, child, why else do you think he left you?"

—

"You're sweet, Steven," Millie snorts, walking at his side after an evening getting the best steak in town. "You deserve better than that gift shop. You know so much, it's wasted if you aren't sharing it! Especially if the museum isn't even attempting to get their information correct!"

"I can't complain, a job's a job, after all," he shrugs lightly, "I like it. It's not so bad. What do you do?"

"I restored things in a museum, typically it was Egyptian artifacts, but I left after the world threw me some problems. Now I travel, do odd jobs here and there." She responds, biting her lip. "I can't imagine we could open a museum, eh? Just the two of us and all that? Your brains my restoration skills?"

His face flushes and he looks away. "N-No, no, I suppose not... Seems awfully expensive... Sounds like fun, though."

"Do you do anything outside of work?" She cocks her head to the side, inwardly cursing herself for being so prying. "I ask because it'd be nice to meet up again!"

"I research a lot, mainly Ancient Egypt, but I read poetry too. I've got a goldfish, Gus, he's my little one-finned wonder." The way he speaks of his fish reminds her of how dog owners speak of their pups. It's cute, really.

"Do you have a favorite poem?" She asks quietly, then she adds, "do you read poetry to your fish?"

Steven laughs at that. It's a quiet, reserved laugh almost, but he laughs all the same. "No, but should I? Do you think he'd like it? If I read to him?"

"Yeah, I think he would. Of course he might not remember it, goldfish don't have a long memory," she snickers, "but I think he'd like it all the same."

"You're telling the boy to talk to his fish? And here I thought your time with Marc was depressing."

"It's pathetic, innit? You seem to have such a wonderful life, and I'm just someone who talks to his fish... you must be bored." He looks away, as if he had gone through this same thing many times before.

"Why would it be pathetic? People talk to their dogs and cats, why not fish? It's charming," she muses, "hey, maybe I can get myself a fish! That way we can talk about our fishes!"

They walk for a while longer before they go separate ways for the night. He had walked her to her apartment, though, which was very sweet. But she can tell that he's reserved. Shy is an understatement, but she probably has enough energy for the both of them, anyway.

—

"You actually went out and bought a fish," Khnum muses, "you could have made one, you know. What is the point of being the avatar of the Divine Potter if you will not use the powers bestowed to you?"

Millie presses her face against the glass of the tank. "I used the powers to make money so I could afford the tank, that has to count for something. But it's cute, I think I understand why Steven talks to Gus."

"Because he has no friends and neither do you? Yes, I do think I understand now, too." He replies, eyes narrowed. One of his ears twitch out of annoyance. "Your duty is to create, Millicent. There is unease in the world of the gods, and while people destroy, you are here fraternizing with a fish. You are more suited to Tawaret. You are not normal, and you never will be. To pretend otherwise is to delude yourself and you are better than that."

His words remind her of the very same reason she and Marc never got along in the first place. She was bound to creation, Marc was bound to vengeance. Khonshu had no qualms against killint to get the revenge he deems necessary, but a god of creation? Khnum would never willfully allow for the loss of life. Creation, and pro-creation are his thing, not death and destruction. She could create beasts to kill on her behalf, but it does not change the fact that she would be killing. But she was never a killer and one day, her inability to kill almost cost Marc someone important.

"You remind me that I'm not a killer, but sometimes I wonder what it would take to kill a god."

"If you cannot be a hero without having to kill, how can you consider yourself any better than them?" His eyes pierce into her soul, dark and inquisitive. "He will never look upon you as an equal because you do not kill when he deems you must. So, simply show him what you are capable without killing."

"Like what? Beat the shit out of him and call it a day?" She turns to look at Khnum but there's no one but empty space and what looks like to be some sand.

So, he expects her to be strong enough not to kill and powerful enough to be equal to a man of vengeance? She can do that.

[dis-easedfairy]

Impulsive Decision Pt.9

Male Path | Female Path

Chapter 9 : Just A Normal Day At The Office

Warnings!: Swearing

Genre: Poly!au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, yandere!au 

Pairings: BTS x Reader / Kim Taehyung x Reader / Kim Seokjin x Reader / Jung Hoseok x Reader / OC x Reader / Park Jimin x Reader / Min Yoongi x Reader

Summary: M/n is the owner of a very wealthy and successful company, Barnanby Inc. M/n attends a BTS show, since they happen to be a fan. They make a very impulsive decision to show a loophole in BTS’s security and end up kidnapping BTS and 2 girls. In a fit of panic M/n stashes BTS and the girls in a very luxurious bunker for the time being, but M/n’s world slowly starts to crumble the longer the boys are out of the public’s eye,

Word Count: 8,349 (roughly 30 minutes of average reading time)

A/N: The boys aren’t in this chapter that much purely so I can develop plot and give background info. So, filler. (the gif is basically a hint to next chapter)

Spending my morning on Jason’s couch wasn’t the plan, but the break was almost too sweet to give up. I sat up, reaching over for my turned-off phone. I could hear muffled talking coming from down the hall. I looked over, seeing Jason holding a laundry basket, his phone pressed between his face and shoulder and he came into the living room.  I grabbed his laptop off the chair just in time for him to sit on the said chair. He dropped the laundry basket on the floor and got a better hold of the phone.  

I reached over to get Jason’s laptop off the coffee table. I opened his laptop and began looking up a few things.  

“Listen, we had a plan for the character model! I understand when you program something, something else can mess up but it’s YOUR JOB to fix it! I’ll extend the deadline but that’s it, good-bye!” Jason hung up with a groan.

“I haven’t even had my damn morning coffee yet and these people are going insane.” He grumbled, beginning to sort through his laundry.

“Yeah, sorry about that, but it needs to happen,” I muttered, still researching.

“So your plan is to what? Get Jill’s help but keep the company anyway? How will that work? I get you ARE the owner, but she now has the upper hand to destroy you…” Jason trailed off, folding a pair of pants.

I scoffed, “She THINKS she can destroy me, but if she helps me avoid punishment and makes her lawyers paint a pretty picture as truth, then she’ll HAVE to run with it. If she turns on me and says it was all a lie and I’m a criminal, then she is too, then she gets nothing either. The only one with us listening to the WHOLE conversation was my nephew and no one will take his word because he still thinks Santa Claus can come through the furnace vents in their modern home. ”

“He’s really are losing his mind oh my God.” He mumbled to himself, trying to seem interested in his laundry.

“I love my sister, I really do, but last night… She showed me that she would sacrifice everything if it meant keeping the company and her status. She doesn’t care what I want and isn’t doing this out of the kindness of her heart. She’s doing it for my spot. She’s doing it because she doesn’t want to be removed from the high pedestal my father put her on.” I argued, shutting the laptop.

“What about the guys? What if your sister gets access to the bunker?” Jason questioned.

“She won’t. It surprised me when she knew about it, but the location, locks, and layout will be foreign to her because she doesn’t have access to those. I’m assuming she only knows because our accountant slipped up. The only one who knows the location is you and I. The locks are designed by me and you barely even got the keys last month. The layout is only known by twelve people, Jin, Yoongi, Hoseok, RM, Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook, Seongmi, Linza, Jeonghun, and only you and I REALLY know the layout of the bunker. ”

“I feel as though you being there with them was a bad idea.” Jason shook his head, judgment was written on his face.

I exhaled, leaning back into the couch, “It really was. ”

“Well, If I would’ve known you had so much shit going on I wouldn't have invited you for a night out with Daisuke and me!” Jason threw an article of clothing back into the laundry basket roughly.

“If anything, it’ll get my mind off everything for a few hours,” I stated bitterly.

Jason let out a sigh, almost irritated, “We can’t be teenagers anymore, M/n.” He said, his voice was too serious for my liking.

I rolled my eyes, “Jason, I know. I get so much crap for being uptight. Maybe I should actually live like a 20-year-old CEO.” I smirked.

“Oh God, please no.” Jason made a face, going back to sorting and folding his laundry.

“Yeah, overpriced alcohol and drunk people telling me I’m attractive aren’t really for me.” I chuckled, sitting up to get the laptop again, this time to check my e-mail for work.

I started replying and even turned on my phone.

“Your sister….” Jason began, making me look up.

“…She used to wear really nice things, yes, but she would’ve never done that to her little brother. She loved you too much for that.” He stated sadly, looking at a single shirt like it was able to replay memories.

I frowned, sighing, “It happens to those who are in power enough, Jason. It happened to my brother, then to my older sister. I hope my little sister doesn’t catch that bug. Lord knows my mother is secretly becoming like that as well. I understand it a little bit. There are competitors who want our company forgotten, so we have to protect our image, but for her to ask for my place instead, just…” I trailed off.

“I just hope it’s because she has kids to think about now. My brother just wanted to be on top. Maybe my sister wants it so her kids have an assurance that they’ll have something too.” I reasoned, going back to my e-mail in hopes to end the conversation there.

Jason scoffed, “As if you would ever cast out your nephews. Lord knows you spoil them even if they aren’t yours.” I felt a twinge of pain in my heart.

“I mean what would your father say about your sister getting the company?” Jason prompted.

“…I have that decision for a reason, so let that reason play out.” I muttered, no longer interested in the work I was doing.

We fell into slightly uncomfortable silence.

“Can you take care of the boys and girls? With my dad’s party coming up and setting everything up for the future, I will be busy and my family will expect me to stay by their side. They’ll know something is up if I’m constantly leaving.” I explained, pulling out my phone and turning the screen on.

“Uh sure, I’ll try to work and things from there. Maybe I’ll set up a tent there or something. ” I chuckled at his response.

“Why a tent?” I questioned with a smile.

Jason smiled, letting out a chuckle of his own, “So I can get cellphone service.”

I only shook my head, I was about to open my mouth to speak but the doorbell rang. Jason looked at me puzzled for a bit. I only shrugged, leaning back into the couch. Jason stood and opened the door.

“I have your truffle pizza and 20 hot wings. Your total is 66,000 won.” The delivery man stated quickly.

Jason looked over his shoulder at me with a glare. I only smirked with a shrug. Jason grumbled something under his breath and took his wallet out of his pocket. He swiped his card in the delivery man’s card reader and took the pizza and wings.

“Have a nice day!” The man said, quickly taking his leave.

Jason mumbled something along the lines of, “I won’t while he’s here.” as he closed the door.

Jason turned to look over at me, eerily calm for a few moments.

“…WHO ORDERS A 66,000 WON PIZZA!? THAT’S 50 U.S. DOLLARS! THATS….”

“6,510 yen.” I helped him out.

“EXACTLY!” He exploded.

“58 U.S. dollars to be exact. ALSO, it was actually 50 U.S. dollars, however, it was an extra 4 for 20 wings since it was on sale I figured why not?”

“…4 dollars for 20 wings? Holy shit that’s a good deal.” He muttered, moving his hands to open the container with wings.

He made a face as if to say ‘not bad’, “They are pretty meaty too, what the fuck.”

“The pizza has a lot of truffles. Never had it before.” I shrugged.

“Then why did you order it!?”

“…I feel like ordering you the most expensive pizza I could find last minute was doing someone justice? Like I personally don’t think I’ve ever said that, but I’m sure someone said they would. Figured I’d be petty for them.”

Jason looked at the pizza then at me, “You’re so fucking weird. If this tastes bad then that someone is getting coal for Christmas.”

Jason walked over to place the food down on the coffee table. I happily helped move things out the way and opened the pizza box and Jason decided to go for the wings first.

“What’s the game plan for today?” Jason asked, mouth slightly full as he spoke.

I gave him a look and shook my head as I picked up a slice of pizza, “You know I hate when you do that.”

“Why? No food is going to fly out and you understand me.” Jason said after he swallowed, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal.

“No one wants to see your chewed up food, Jason.”

“Then look at my eyes, not my mouth.” I sighed.

“Stop talking about things that annoy you! What’s the game plan?” Jason pressed, his hand moving to get a slice as well.  

I ended up at the office, but instead of working, as usual, I was only lost in my thoughts.

I thought if I was far away from my problems, it would just solve itself.

I had to deal with Daisuke.

I had to prep for my father’s party.

I‌ had to deal with nine people in my bunker.

I looked over at my sad excuse for a couch setup. A pillow and a fluffy blanket folded over the armrest. I was going to be beyond busy and I‌ need to avoid the boys for a bit to get things sorted out.

I let out a sigh, “How long will I‌ be here?”‌ I‌ asked myself as I made my way to my desk.

I sat down and tried to focus back on writing out what I could have planned for the game and if there would be more.

It suddenly hit me. I launched myself up from my desk and ran out of my office to find my sister. It might have been easier to just make her come to me but the idea suddenly coming to me clouded any other thought as I ran as fast as I could to the broadcasting department.

Once I got there I could see my sister talking to employees and making sure everything was in order for the new animation to be aired.  Some who were talking a small break immediately got to work when I entered.

I proudly went next to my sister and blurted “I‌ can have the game department only.”‌ in an out of breath tone.

Her eyes grew wide, “Excuse me?”‌ She seemed more concerned than confused.

“You have broadcasting, Jae has the toys and shit, Eun will have food and drinks and I’ll have games. We’ll all just decide together!”‌ I couldn’t suppress the excitement in my voice.

Jilly took a quick look around and grabbed my arm to lead me to the hallway.

“What’s going on in that over-active brain, huh?”‌ She asked me while folding her arms.

“We won’t have to fight for the top if we’re ALL‌ at the top. Jieun isn’t old enough yet, so I’m not worried about that side of our company for at LEAST 2 years!‌ Jae has a thing for money but loves the designs we all come up with. You love the bustle of the broadcasting. You are literally our voice, and it’s good that way. I can be in charge of the game department. Any videogames are managed under me and no one will have to come to you about my bullshit because it’s MY bullshit.”

“This isn’t the four kings. This is a company.”

“A‌ company that will work as long as we all stay in our fucking lanes!‌ Jae is too stubborn to evolve with the company. You won’t take too many creative risks that we need. Jieun will crack under the pressure of handling EVERYTHING. I’m too impulsive or too stuck in my head. But if we all work together we’ll check each other. No fights for the top, no one coming to just one of us for decisions on something the other is working on. No pressure to hold the entire company on our backs. We get our zones and stay in them!”‌

Jilly seemed to look down at the floor, letting my words absorb. After a few long moments, she finally spoke.

“I remember sitting down on the living room floor during Dad’s days off. Our sister helping our mom, Jae being pissed off because Dad just wouldn’t give him a win, and you sitting at the table always learning something new.”‌ Something about her words caused a weight to form on my chest.

She let out a sigh and looked up at the ceiling, “Our father was a strong man. After his will, I tried so hard to understand why he left the company to you. You were so young when he wrote the will. You were still young when he passed. Our mother got into a few fights with him before he died,”‌ She let out a scoff, “Like she was just TRYING to find a reason to be mad at him. And when you got the company, Jae was so angry at you, at Dad. I want it to stop. All the fighting. ”‌ Her eyes landed back on me.

“I‌ even went after you, and I shouldn’t have. This isn’t a competition. I was so upset that you kept it from me and that you would even find yourself in that situation. But yesterday night it finally hit me on how you might’ve felt. I‌ just know you went in with it being a joke that you thought wouldn’t be too serious, and when it was, you weren’t sure what to do. If you reached out to our brother, you would go to jail. He’s too into old-fashioned justice. If you went to mom, she would hide you, but her mouth was too big. Eunnie is still a child. And I‌ would’ve done what I did yesterday. You HAD‌ to hide it.”‌ Her voice seemed to waver as she went on.

I tried to remain completely silent. I could feel a sting behind my eyes, she was starting to understand what kind of stupid I was. Yet there was always a method to my madness.

“I‌ judged you, and thought of our image rather than thinking of you as my brother. I‌ thought of you as a reckless child rather than an adult who was afraid. Our mother wanted you to be a pushover, someone she could dump her problems on. Our brother wanted to knock you down to get to the top and I‌ made you feel like shit when I was supposed to help you.”‌ Actual tears began to run down her face, “You’re my little brother, not my child, and not a fucking punching bag. I shouldn’t have made you feel so judged for something that was an innocent mistake, I’m so sorry, M/n-ie.”‌

She bit her lip, seeming to take a moment to control her emotions before finally saying, “It’s your call. I’ll help, but please, don’t do anything stupid.”

I left a large weight lift off of me.

My sister wasn’t against me. She could never be.

My eyes watered as I waited, wanting to see if maybe she would change her mind.

Her features softened even more, “Oh, M/n-ie. I won’t take it back, I promise. Come here,” She held her arms out and I immediately went into them.

Pressing my face into her shoulder and wrapping my arms around her. As she embraced me back I could smell the comforting scent of her jasmine perfume that she’s been using since middle school. Her hand went up to pet my hair soothingly.

For a moment it was as it should be. A little brother being comforted by his big sister.

“What are you two doing in the hallway?” We heard.

Before I could pull away Jillian held me closer, “Hugging. Like family.” Her voice was almost cold.

“He’s the owner of a company, you shouldn’t be holding him like that. He’s not a child.”

It made sense who it was now.

“Jaeseok, he’s our little brother. It doesn’t matter if he owns a company or not. He felt under the weather so I’m helping.” Our sister shot back, keeping a firm hold on me.

“He’s an adult. If he has problems he needs to deal with them on his own, Jiann.”

Great now my brother and sister were bickering in the hallway. What made this worse was I couldn’t really say anything, due to my face being in her shoulder.

“Family is supposed to help!”

“Family is to help expand the name.”

My sister let out a frustrated groan. I lightly pushed on her hip and she let me go.

I was met with the sight of my brother. He looked well-kempt yet so unkempt. He had on his usual suit, wrinkle-free, and lint-free. His hair looked like he had run his fingers through it repeatedly, and the dark circles under his eyes were impossible to ignore.

“Jae, when is the last time you slept!?” I asked, genuinely concerned.

Jae scoffed, “We don’t all get day-offs whenever we want. ”

I frowned at his response, of course, he would turn this into a fight, “But you should still take breaks. Your hours should give you plenty of time to sleep.”

Our sister tsked, “Don’t snap at our brother because you’re working overtime.”

“You’re working overtime!? I told you not to!” I exclaimed.

Our brother rolled his eyes, “If I don’t do it then who would?”

I scoffed at his clear delusion. These next few days would be hell.

“Why did you come over here for?” Jiann changed the subject.

“Right, our mother wishes to reserve a large building for our father’s birthday. She also would like to invite some of his family to our childhood home.”

There was silence.

“Well tell her she’s out of her fucking mind. The party happens here. This meant everything to Dad. The party happens here and we go back home for the night. Like always. I don’t care who she invites to the party but no one follows us back to our childhood home. That’s for family only. My sons and husband don’t even join us and neither does your wife, what makes her think they’re invited? No.” Jiann was firm, crossing her arms, just waiting for someone to defy her.

“They’re even lucky to be invited to the party itself. They call us entitled pricks but want to be part of us when it comes to social events.” I muttered.

“Exactly my point. No. They don’t get to come back to our family home. They also don’t get family passes as they are here. They don’t get special treatment.”

Jae seemed to nod thinking it over, “I agree. Having them think they can do as they please won’t be good for our company’s image. Or our family’s image. I’ll let security know of their names and faces. I’ll also brief them on how to properly handle them if they cause a scene.”  

Like I need more problems.

“What will they do if they DO cause a scene?” Jiann asked.

“Well, we can’t have them be loud, they would draw too much attention we’ll just–”

“CEO-nim!” I heard, making us jump a little.

A woman, looking highly professional jogged up to us, holding documents to her chest.

“Yes?”

“We have another problem. Some of the computers in the game development floor have been damaged. I attempted to get ahold of Mr.Katashi but was unable to.”

Oh great, more problems.

My favorite.

I somewhat had everything under control by lunch. Someone had corrupted a few computers. I had to emergency order new ones and help transfer the files over and had the corrupted computers stored away as evidence. I was walking around the programmers, making sure I was there if there were any signs of any glitching computers.

I was pretty sure that whoever was doing this was selecting a special set of computers, the ones with all the character designs and code that took too long to recreate at this point. I made sure to tell Jason to find the best cybersecurity team he could. I needed to guard this project with my life and I wouldn’t let my father’s dream die with me.

I was pacing back in forth between the row of game developers when I was approached.

It was a nice looking man. He seemed small. Not in height, but in the way he presented himself. He was dressed in a simple dress shirt, straightened pants, and tie. His dark hair was covering his forehead and he looked out of place. Afraid to meet my gaze, afraid to catch too much attention. He was holding files and USB drives but looked like if I said “boo” he would drop everything and run.

He must be new.

“Hello, how can I help you?” I asked in the nicest voice I could.

He played a little bit with the edges of the folders before speaking, “I’m with the cybersecurity team… They sent me to…,” He seemed to be stuck or thinking of what to say, “To set up.” His voice sounded like it could be attention-catching if he tried. Not too high-pitched and had a certain roughness to it.

“Ah! Of course! We had computers and space for your set up in the room next to the security room.” I informed, moving to borrow the post-it notes from one of the developers to write down the code to the mostly empty room, “If any of you have any questions or needs, feel free to call my personal number. It’s close to us all ordering lunch so call the front desk if you have any differences in dietary needs.” I handed him the post-it note with a warm smile.

He quickly took the note, gave me a small bow, and rushed off.

Poor dude.

I moved back to my work at hand, making a mental note to visit them later.

A little later into the afternoon I was in my office, trying my best to look over the security footage. It didn’t look like the files were corrupted manually. No one was there in person but it still gave me a strange feeling. This obviously wasn’t just some teenagers just goofing around. I let out a loud groan, knowing this would kill me until I figured out who did it.

I got up out of my seat and gathered the papers I needed to sign off on and approve. I shoved them all into a folder, grabbed a couple of pens, a few stationery items for organization reasons, and headed off to the cybersecurity room.

Upon reaching the room I began to think about how they would all react seeing their boss watch over them as they worked.

Would they feel pressure?

Would I make them uncomfortable?

I decided to just knock on the door. If I made them uncomfortable they could tell me and I would leave.

As soon as my knuckles hit the door it flung open to reveal the guy before. This time his hair was a little ruffled, pushed back to show off his forehead, and his tie pulled loose.

“Good! Saves me the trouble of having to find you, come in!” He gave me a smirk and went back into the room.

Well, that was a turn of a personality.

The room we had set up for them was all set up into cubicles. At first, I was against it but they had large whiteboards on the cubical walls and had their own privacy. The guy before led me to the end and sat down at his new desk, his screen was pulled up to a jumbled mess of codes that hurt my eyes to look at for too long.

“You were definitely about to be hacked. I’m not sure what they did that they ruined it so badly but we can try to trace him in a few moments.” He explained.

“So what's the next step I should take after this?” I questioned, putting my hand on the back of his chair to lean forward and look at the wall of code.

The man seemed to be thrown off by my question. I wasn’t going to be confident if I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing or what this all meant. He was a professional. I saw it best to ask for his opinion.

“Uh…Uhm…W-Well, the next step is to contact the authorities. This is a crime after all.”

“Isn’t tracing them a crime too though?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Eh, not really. If I was hacking into their computer for private information then it would be a crime. Like they tried to do here. But I’m just getting the general idea of their location, its pretty public despite what everyone thinks.”

There was a pause.

“…..So how much can I pay you so we aren't public?”

“Hey, dick, we need to talk.” Jason busted into the once quiet cybersecurity room.

I had taken up an empty cubical that was at the very end facing the other cubicles. I could see the door and only the sides were up. I had papers scattered around in semi-neat piles, my hand starting to cramp from all the signing and notes I’ve made.

The small cybersecurity team almost jumped out of their skin upon Jason’s entrance.

I let out a large sigh, “If it has anything to do with I.P. Addresses, VPNs, or how I’m a fucking idiot, I already got that talk, and I don’t want to hear it.”

Jihun, the man who did a fucking 180 in personality held back a laugh at my irritation.

“Do I look like I know anything about computers? It’s not about that, the police are in your office right now waiting for you. ”

“Police? I requested only one detective?” I looked up from my papers.

Jason let out a sigh, “I tried to tell them that but he insisted that he needed his partner.”

I let out a groan, “Fiiinnnne.”  I stood up reluctantly and shot Jihun a quick, “I’ll be back.”

As soon as we were out the room, Jason shoved me into the wall.

“Ow! What the fuck was that!?” I asked, my voice higher pitched in shock.

“This is by far the dumbest thing you’ve ever done!” He hissed.

“That’s not true! I’ve done far more idiotic things in my life!” I defended, standing straight in protest.

“You asked for the detective working the kidnapping case to work your hacking case!”

I let out another sigh. I should’ve known he would lose his mind.

“Seung Eunsuk isn’t going to link the two. Relax.” I rolled my eyes.

“And if he does!?”

“Then it’s your fault for being so jumpy. He was pretty opinionated and since he’s newish, he’s going to be fair.” I reasoned as I pressed the elevator button.

“You think that now, but when he has cuffs on you I will be there to say I told you so.” I gave Jason a side-ways glance in judgment.

“…He’s not going to solve THAT problem. You dirty-minded jerk.”

Jason’s eyes widened as I stepped into the elevator, “…You kinky bitch.”

“Detective Seung! I’m glad you can make it.” I announced as I entered the room.

Sure enough, there were two officers in the room. The older officer was the same from last time, only this time he looked more fidgety. Like something was off.

Eunsuk was looking at a paperweight I had on my desk, completely calm. Upon seeing me a small smile lit up his face, “Mr.L/n. Glad to be here.”

I could feel Jason roll his eyes behind me at our teasing remarks, “Please, have a seat. We have a few things to talk about.”

Eunsuk put down the paperweight and patted the older officer’s arm like he was telling him silently to do so as well.

“So, we heard you had a hacking?” Eunsuk questioned, pulling out his notepad and flipping to an empty page.

I made a hum of confirmation as I began to pour them water, “It wasn’t too long ago. They somehow messed up so badly that they corrupted a few of our computers.”

“Any idea where the hack came from?”

“Not yet. Our CyberSecurity team is working on it.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a few programmers from the police department to come down and check it out as well.”

“I don’t have a problem with that. Just be sure to ask our teams leader, Jihun about it as well.”

“Jihun? May I have his full name?”

“He just goes by Jihun and doesn’t seem to fond of formal speech.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. May we take the corrupted computers in as evidence? That might help.”

“Jihun had the computers sent to their room. You should be able to get at least one or two from him.”

“Understood. Lastly, do you know anyone who would think to do this? Any enemies recently for  Barnanby Inc? Piss anyone off?”

“Eunsuk.” The older detective’s voice sounded like a warning. Like I was going to rip Eunsuk’s head off for asking such a question.

“Our company is now the third biggest in South Korea. We have many people jealous, but no one has threatened us or made their hatred obvious enough for us to see.”

Eunsuk nodded as he wrote one last thing then closed his notepad, “Alright, I have a feeling the cyber people will point us in the right direction. It’ll help us narrow it down so much more. We’ll keep in touch?”

I nodded extending my hand out to shake his, “We will, Jason will give you my number as well as escort you to our CyberSecurity room. If you should need me or have any questions, don’t hesitate to call!”

Eunsuk happily shook my hand, “We’ll figure this out, M/n. I promise.”

I had worked well through the morning. When lunch had swung around I was planning on putting it off in all honesty. I hoped the lunch break time would be put to me making a serious dent in my work.

I still had several things to go through and about 3 meetings scheduled back to back. I had been neglecting my work for a little too long that it came back to bite my ass. As I was calling an investor things took a turn, however.

“You want the first-ever game my father developed? May I asked why?” I was taken aback on why this would even be asked.

Ever since my father started to company, his game developing had been long forgotten since he wanted my mother to be the spotlight. No other investor or partner has asked about his work. They were more interested in how well we would market the game and how much income would come from it.

“You said that most games would be inspired by your father’s ideas and unfinished projects. I’d like to see what he had in mind.”

“I understand. If you could, may I have a few days to get it to you? They’re all in our family home, I’m just unsure of where.”

“Of course. I’ll give you a week. That will give me enough time to look over what else you have to offer me.”

“Thank you, Sir. I’ll be sure to make sure your time is not being wasted. I hope you have a great week.”

As soon as I hung up I let out a groan.

I had to go through everything in my father’s office. That didn’t seem too hard, however, my mother just gathered almost everything my dad had and just stashed them in his office. An out of sight out of mind tactic that would be my doom.  

As I cussed under my breath I reluctantly grabbed my blazer to pull on like a child who got yelled at his mom for not wearing their jacket outside and made my way to the elevator to go to the parking lot.

I didn’t even know where my father stashed all his games. I just found one of his notebooks with ideas inside of it. Even then I didn’t feel right reading it. Like it was a private thing. Now I had to look through EVERYTHING.

Out of irritation I began to press the parking lot bottom harshly and was jump scared by the doors opening at the lobby.

At the door stood Jason with a cooler bag slung over his shoulder, looking irritated and tired.

“Hey there, Loser. Got any lunch money?” I teased.

Once he looked up he seemed relieved and rushed into the elevator to push a random button to make the door closed. As soon as the door was closed he shoved the bag into my hands with a sigh.

“And this is?” I asked, not fully understanding what was in the bag.

“If it’s body parts, there are better ways to get me to dispose of a body for you,” I added.

He only gave me a tired glare, wordless.

My eyes widened, “IS it body parts!?” I quickly unzipped the bag.

No body parts. Only tupperware with food inside of it.

“It isn’t. That’s disappointing.” I mumbled.

“It’s from the guys. They were worried that you’d skip lunch.” Jason grumbled as he leaned against the wall.

“Oh. Well, that’s nice. I was about to head to grab something then go to my mom's. One less stop.” I smiled, feeling warm inside with the thought of them making my lunch.

“What? Why?”

“I have work still. But an investor asked for my dad’s earliest game, so I have to go through his office to find it. ”

Jason only nodded as the elevator doors opened.

“I’ll be sure to stop by the bunker to talk to the boys.” I promised as I began to exit.

“Good. They ask too many questions. I’ll get a few things off your desk to take to the bunker so you won’t miss work.”

“I appreciate you!” I called as I began to jog to my car.

“YOU BETTER.”

I let out an irritated sigh as my third call to my mom when unanswered. I wasn’t going to play cat and mouse all day because she never liked to be home. So I walked off the porch and to a certain bush to get the spare key.

Once I opened the door I made a b line to my father’s old office and immediately opened a window. The room was almost foggy from the dust in the air. Like an ancient tomb that was too precious to open.

I let out a cough and tried to cover my mouth and nose with the neck of my shirt as I began to search through his desk.

I let out a groan once I realized NOTHING was organized. My mom must have gone through it when he passed and didn’t even consider that anyone would come back in here. I looked around the cluttered room in horror.

Books were thrown about. Papers scattered. Boxes loaded with everything from clothes to old computer parts were placed around the room.

Knowing there was no way around this I began to clean.

Once I had almost everything in its rightful place I still hadn’t found my dad’s games. I figured I wasn’t looking hard enough and began to load everything into my car to look through at the office since I had been there for longer than needed.

I made sure to sit on my office couch as I went through box after box.

It was pretty mundane. It was starting to get really boring until I came across a book. It was a book about animation which was to be expected but a few of the pages had marks in the corner, like quickly scribbled numbers. A few pages were torn out and torn in half.

I frowned as I began to flip through, not really noticing a pattern in the numbers or even knowing what the numbers would be to.

“I HAVE MADE AN ENTRANCE!” A loud booming sound came from my office door.

Out of pure reflex, I chucked the book I was holding at the door.

A loud thud and screech rang through the room as my eyes began to focus on who came through the door.

It was my little sister, cringing away from one side of the door that the book seemingly hit. Her eyes were wide and her mouth parted open in shock.

I let out an almost snort as I held my hands out, “Jieun, my bad! Don’t do that! I get you wanted dramatic effect but holy fuck give me a warning.” I complained.

“Give YOU a warning!? You threw a book at me!” She got out of her shocked position to clench her fists at her sides.

“I thought you were a monster!”

“HOW OLD ARE YOU!?” I giggled at the question.

“Will you forgive me if I eat lunch with you?”

“…It’s 2 pm.” I rolled my eyes.

“All you had to say was ‘no’.” I pouted as I got up to look for the bag Jason gave me earlier that day.

“I dropped by to see how my amazing brother was doing,” I could practically hear the sugar drip from her lips as I began to unpack my food.

“Cut the uwu crap and tell me why you’re really here.” I sighed as I opened the larger container that had rice in it.

She let out a groan and stomped over to plop herself on the couch across from me, “Mom didn’t like that you guys cut Dad’s family out of visiting our childhood home so she’s inviting them to our apartment. One of their brats already occupied my room.”

The irritating thing about this was the fact that our childhood home was already paid for, but my mother refused to live there because it was too much of a reminder to what was. So she insisted to move into a luxury two-bedroom apartment in Gangnam.

I let out a scoff as I poked at the fried chicken that had gone soggy in a container covered in some kind of sauce. Jae was paying for that apartment, yet even HE couldn’t enforce anything, “I bet Jae would love to know that.” I smirked.

“I tried to tell her we don’t want them around us be she went on and on about how we were family and how I should be nice! Can I just please stay with you?” She whined.

I began to think it over as I chewed, “I don’t think you can.”

“Why nooooot!?” I tried not to enjoy her misery.

“I’m not staying at my apartment. So you can stay there, you’ll just be alone and then our siblings will chew me out for leaving a 17 year-old girl alone in an apartment in Gangnam.” I muttered, shoving my face with more food, and then moved to open another container.

“We can just keep a secret!”

“I doubt that.”

“C’monnn! Pleasseee!”

“How about this, you go ask Jilly and Jae about staying with them, if they both say no, then you can have the keys by tonight.” I bargained.

She lit up, “Seriously!?” I nodded, “ILLGOASK!” She nearly yelled and bolted towards the door.

“DON’T RUN TOO FAST OR JILLY WILL SUE MY ASS! I DIDN’T RAISE YOU TO BE AN IDIOT!” I yelled… with my mouth full.

“SORRY! I’LL SPEEDWALK!”

I quickly finished my work to look through old floppy disks and USB drives my father had stocked up. I had told my assistant to push everything back that day.

It was around dinner time when I found a flash drive that caught my attention.

Most of them were files for unfinished games, ideas, and a mess of coding that didn’t make sense to my idiotic brain. But this USB drive had only two folders.

Both were password protected.

Once I clicked on them the command prompt on my computer popped up asking for the password.

I let out a sigh as I entered my mom’s birthday.

Access Denied. The command prompt closed.

I opened and tried my twin sibling’s birthday.

Not it.

I let out a groan and began to enter mine, trying to get it out of the way before I entered Jieun’s birthday which I was SURE was the password if it wasn’t my mother’s.

Upon pressing enter after the last digit of my birthday year the words ‘access granted’ appeared in the command prompt, the small window closed up, and the file opened.

There were 4 documents there.

READ FIRST

LEE ANIMATIONS

GWAN BROADCASTING

AN HAEWON

My fingers itched to click on one of the other files. Two were popular in media. Lee Animations had rebranded to Lee Entertainment a few years back. They hired idols and actors. Their animations were no longer being made by them, they chose to switch to the idol and film business pretty late. Everyone thought they would go bankrupt.

Gwan Broadcasting was a thing before my father even went to America. Years and generations in the company as well as very good dramas and sub-networks under their belt.

An Haewon. The name didn’t even begin to register in my memory.

Against my impulses, I clicked on the ‘READ FIRST’ file.

.

M/n

You’re reading this because you snooped in my things… OR I handed you this after you finished college but let's be honest with ourselves the first option is more likely.

I hope by now you’ve grown and I’ve handed the company over to you. So just have a drink with me after this because I have a few things to get off my chest.

I didn’t get this company JUST through hard work. I hope as time goes on you begin to understand the circumstances that led me to make the decisions I made and the actions I took.

I won't ask for forgiveness.

Just understanding.

I’ve made the three other files to explain why these three people, these three companies want to see you suffer. To see us suffer.

Against my instinct to be the father you respect and admire, I tried to explain the truth and not what would make me look good.

The second password-protected folder is of the things they wanted from me. Either wanting them back or wanting to steal away.

I love you. I hope by explaining these things you can learn from them and make better decisions for the company and family.

Whatever you decide, just know I fully support it. I would never be disappointed in you. You’ve been the most hard-working out of all my children. You were quiet but your drive to achieve was always there. Even as I write this you’re at our dining room table studying. I still don’t know what the fuck twelve times nine is and to be completely honest I couldn’t care less.

Take care, Mn-ie.

Your Reckless Asshole Father,

L/N Jaeseong

.

I could feel tears trail down my cheeks as I quickly closed the document and raced to click on the one under it.

“M/N!” The sudden sound of my office door flying open again made me jump.

My siblings have arrived.

Jiann was now in front of my desk, arms folded in anger. She looked like my mother ready to rock my shit.

Jaeseok was holding firmly on our younger sister’s arm as she was pouting, looking at the floor.

“Why are you crying?” Jae asked, making my older sister’s face soften.

“It’s over my dick size, what do you all want?” I quickly replied.

My older sister’s face hardened again, all business, “Did you tell our sister that if we both said no to her staying with us that she could stay at your empty apartment!?”

“I did. Jae, don’t hold too tight her skin is sensitive.” I frowned.  

“Exactly, she’s sensitive and you want her in an apartment by herself!?” Jae threw back in my face.

I rolled my eyes, “That apartment is more than secure. It’s not like I live in a crappy apartment give me SOME credit.”

“SHE’S SIXTEEN.”

“She’s going to be seventeen soon. I know that’s not an adult at that age but I was that age when I started taking care of her and started getting ready to take over the company. She’s not a child.”

“Yes! She is! And so were you! Don’t make this a toxic cycle, M/n!” Jiann snapped.

“Don’t be dramatic. It’s not like I have a kid and handed it to her like ‘you’re the mom now’, it’s just a few nights in a secure apartment that she wouldn’t HAVE to stay in if you two got your mother in check. ” My voice was filled with irritation that began to build.

I closed pulled the USB out and put it in my desk as Jiann began her verbal assault, “She’s OUR mother. Just because you helped raise our sister doesn't mean you stop being her son! We’re getting the situation handled.”

“Well until you do, I want my baby sister comfortably living in my apartment.” I snickered as I stood up to try to pry Jaeseok’s hand off of my little sister.

“She can put up with it for a day or two.” Jaeseok growled.

I shoved his hand off and turned Jieun towards the door to leave, “She already did put up with it for a day or two. My sister shouldn’t HAVE to put up with anything uncomfortable in her own fucking home. So I’m taking her to mine since our mother STILL isn’t a considerate enough parent to care about her child rather than fucking leeches. Now if you would excuse me, I’m going to go have dinner with my PERFECTLY CAPABLE sister and then show her where she will be staying. I want you out of my office when I get back and I want the situation handled within 48 hours.” I ordered as I guided Jieun out the office.

“They’re going to get mad at you for talking to them like that.” Jieun warned.

“They’ll have to deal with it. I’m their boss until we split the company. I give orders not sympathy.” I grumbled as I pushed the elevator button.

I had taken Jieun to my apartment. I had ordered us dinner while she unpacked.

The mood was light but had a dark undertone.

It was oddly nostalgic. My sister moving things in my closet to make space for her things because she didn’t feel safe in her own room.

Us alone in the apartment getting our own dinner because we didn’t expect our mom home until the very early hours of the morning.

“I ordered fried chicken. The app said it should be here in a few minutes. I hope that’s okay with you.” I called over as I began to clear off the coffee table.

“Is it yangnyeom?” She called back.

I couldn’t help the smile that came onto my face, “Yes. I even asked for extra sauce because you like the spice.”

“….what about beer?”

I rolled my eyes, “I have some in the fridge you delinquent.”

She let out an excited ‘yay’ and began to put her clothes in my closet in a more excited manner.

“How is school going?”

“Alright, It’s pretty boring though.”

“Boring, how?”

“Well, I only have one true friend and days just repeat themselves.”

“Then join a club.”

“I DID.” I let out a chuckle at her outburst.

She skipped out of the bedroom and bounded over to the fridge, “Who would’ve thought at 16 I would be drinking a beer with my older brother in a penthouse apartment in Gangnam that he’s going to leave me with.” I only shook my head at her.

“Please don’t filter yourself when you tell me how living with mom is REALLY going.” I began as she made her way to the living room with two beers.

“Well, mom is just like she was before. Never rhere. Sometimes she goes out with friends or she just kinda leaves and doesnt say anything.”

“…Does she at least make dinner?”

“Nope. She barely speaks to me unless we’re all gathered together.”

I knew this was going to be a mistake. One that would make my sister and brother furious. My mother would kill me. I knew if my dad were here he would understand at least.

“Okay.” I sighed as I fished in my pocket.

I pulled out the apartment keys and placed them on the table.

My sister looked at them then back at me in confusion, “You can have it. Don’t worry about rent, or money. I’ll handle it. Just please be safe and stick to studying and working hard. The last thing I want is you deciding to fuck off instead of go to school.”

“YOU’RE GIVING ME AN APARTMENT!?” Her eyes twinkled with tears and excitement.

“Yeah, everyone will kill me if they find out so move in slowly. Act like you’re just staying here for a few days. I’ll tell security that you’re staying here now. Just please don’t burn the place down.”

“I would NEVER.” Jieun gasped dramatically.

I gave her a pointed look, “Remember when you tried to be nice to me and make curry and yo–”

“OTHER THAN THAT I WOULD NEVER.”

I only shook my head and reached over for the remote.

Even when I turned on the TV I didn’t focus on it. My mind only wandered to what the following days would be.

After all I left 9 people alone in my bunker with no contact all day. I mean they could wait.

Right?

.

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[lazymilkshakecolor]

Uncharted

Disclaimer: these characters don’t belong to me, they belong to the Naruto series created by Masashi Kishimoto.

(I’m baaacckkkk)

Summary: At 20 years old, Sarada had done everything she ever dreamed of, conquered all her demons, went to hell and back, but there is one more territory that she left uncharted...till now. (Borusara, Sasusaku)

Sarada had fought aliens, she had protected the village singlehandedly from it’s biggest threat yet, she created a jutsu even her dad’s genius have deemed impossible to achieve, she even managed to see what was under Kakashi’s mask, a feat she is proud of but refuses to admit to anyone what was the price. 

Kakashi had already promised to take that secret to his grave, not that she’d ever admit that she was a fan of the Icha Icha series, and possessed a first edition copy of the book that kicked off the series, which she spent three S ranked missions worth of ryo on, only to be traded a few months later with Kakashi.

Totally worth it. Sarada thought

But something as silly as-

Sarada felt her cheeks burn up, not able to even think of what happened without turning completely red.

And now here she is, standing outside her mother’s office for what seemed like hours, attempting to knock for the hundredth time but stopping at the final moment cause she had no idea what to tell her mom.

Sakura had always been Sarada’s best friend, well adult best friend, she always listened to her, giving advice when she asked. To a younger Sarada her mother appeared the wisest, having an answer to everything. Now a 20 year old, Sarada knows that is far from the truth, and that there are many subjects her mother still falters in, nonetheless, she is still a third of the strongest shinobi team ever.

Come on, just do it already, shanaro!

So Sarada took a deep breath and raised her fist to knock, this time determined to do it, until the door flew open in front of her, revealing her mother, with a questioning look on her face.

‘’You’ve been standing outside my door for more than five minutes Sarada.’’ Sakura said, looking at her daughter up and down, accessing for damages, but she couldn’t find anything unusual, other than her reddening face.

‘’I-well I wanted t-to Talk.’’ Sarada stuttered out, mentally berating herself for stuttering like that.

Why do I feel like I've been caught with my hand in a cookie jar?

Confusion was apparent on Sakura’s face as she stepped aside, making way for her red in the neck daughter to pass through before closing the door behind her.

‘’Last time I saw you in this state you asked me if i was pregnant.’’ Sakura said in an attempt to help her daughter relax.

It was 8 years ago when Sarada confronted her parents with the deduction that her mother was pregnant, after noticing that she came home from the hospital early most days, even earlier than the time she arrived home from her daily missions or training sessions and her usually energetic mother was always a bit tired at those times too, her dad changing Boruto’s training schedule to be home at that time didn’t help her assumptions either, thinking he needed that time to take care of her and be by her mother’s side.

Of course Sarada got the fright of her life when Sakura thought that she was saying she gained weight before she explained her reasons for thinking she was pregnant, in which an amused Sasuke intervened that they just decided to dedicate some time to be spent alone. It wasn’t till a couple years later that Sarada caught on to what they meant.

Sarada shuddered at the thought.

‘’Hey I had sufficient reasons to believe so!’’ Sarada blurted out.

‘’Just like you had sufficient reasons to believe I wasn’t your mother.’’ Sakura responded.

She loved her daughter to bits, but detective work was not her forte.

Sarada had the decency to not respond to that, changing the subject instead.

‘’So...something happened…’’ she started, trailing off.

‘’Hm?’’ Sakura leaned forward in her chair, leaning her head on her hands as she gave a small smile to Sarada, a silent way to remind her that she can tell her anything.

‘’Between Boruto and I…’’ Sarada finally continued, fidgeting her hands and gazing at the floor, but she still took glances at her mom, enough to see her look of confusion turn into one of understanding, and maybe even a bit of smugness.

You sure you and Boruto are just friends…? Sarada could almost hear her mother utter that question again, she used to ask her that as far back as the academy days and Sarada of course vehemently denied.

‘’I see…,’’ Sakura said, raising up from her seat behind the desk to sit in front of Sarada on the guest chairs, ‘’Want to tell me what happened?’’ 

Sarada shook her head, to which Sakura sighed but couldn’t help the small smile that made its way to her lips.

Sometimes she’s just like Sasuke…

‘’Okay then, how do you feel about whatever it is that happened?’’ 

‘’Confused.’’ Sarada answered immediately. Her eyes were not daring to lift from the floor.

‘’Other than that?’’ Sakura prodded, reaching for her daughter's damaged hand before continuing, ‘’happy? Sad? Mad?’’

Sarada took a moment before answering, “ Happy,...and kinda scared and maybe relieved too…”, her gaze lifting only slightly to meet her mom’s comforting green eyes, then moved to their intertwined hands, getting a flashback to a time a month back. She could still feel the burning pain on her arm, Shizune-san was trying her best to heal it, damage it has suffered being extensive, so extensive an ugly burn scar was still apparent across her arm, while Sakura was holding her hand tightly, kinda like she is now.

‘’Yes?’’

‘’I was relieved cause I thought that he feels the same way.’’ Sarada admitted, knowing fully well the weight of what she just admitted for the first time.

Sakura smiled at her daughter’s words, opening her mouth to say something before someone interrupted.

‘’Sakura- Sama!” Sakura’s assistant barged into the office.

‘’How many times to I have to tell you to fucking knock you dumbass!” Sakura yelled, standing up and glaring at him.

Immediately, he took a couple of steps back, sweat trickling down his face as Sakura continued to glare at him.

Sarada almost pitied the poor man, her mother had a glare that would make her dad cower, other than the fact that that same man was subject to her father’s glare the many times he interrupted their time at home for hospital emergencies.

‘’I’m sorry Sakura sama! But the Suna delegate is here to check up on your joint medic training program, he said he came early because it’s predicted a sand storm will come in the coming hours..’’ He said, taking more steps backwards.

Sakura took a deep breath before she shot Sarada an apologetic look.

‘’I’m sorry Sarada, we’ll continue this talk tonight okay?’’ Sakura said, leaning down to plant a kiss on her daughter’s forehead and poking it as she leant away, but not before whispering something in her ear.

Sarada watched as her mother left the office, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

What the hell does follow your heart supposed to mean?! Mom’s as cryptic as always, shanaro!

.

.

.

Sarada got out of her mother’s office then straight to her favorite sweets shop, planning on  mulling over what her mother told her while sipping through a cup of tea along with her fav dango.

But nothing is that easy in Sarada’s life, cause as soon as she stepped into the sweets shop she found her father at the counter.

Great, this is a new level of bad luck, what are the odds that I’d encounter Sasuke fucking Uchiha in a sweets shop.

But nonetheless, Sarada found herself smiling as she walked towards him, feeling the same joy she always felt when she saw him for the first time after a mission.

Of course his missions are a lot shorter, even so he still makes an effort to keep in contact, even using the cellphone Sakura got him all those years ago when he couldn’t send a hawk.

‘’Welcome home Papa.’’ Sarada said, beaming upwards at Sasuke, who offered a faint smile that wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone but her in this shop.

‘’Sarada.’’ He acknowledged, before turning to the lady at the counter and telling her to double his order and add two cups of tea to go, which they took for free.

‘’Anything for our hero.’’ The shop lady said, looking at Sarada fondly, who thanked her awkwardly, it’s been a month and she still hasn’t gotten used to this treatment from the village people.

A month since she felt truly alone on the battlefield, a month since she had felt like she was the only hope for hundreds of people, people which she swore she will protect and love since she was eleven, a month since she almost lost her arm, and a month since she saw the reason for her recent confusion.

As usual, her father doesn’t like to sit in public very much when has an option of going to a quiet place, which is where they were heading after his order was done and passing by an onigiri shop.

When they arrived at their usual destination, the forest in the Uchiha compound where Sasuke had taught Sarada the chidori and many other things, Sarada sat down on the ground and Sasuke followed after taking off his cloak.

This place used to frighten her, as a kid and as a teen, she knew no one will ever dare come here, this place somehow maintained its frightening aura even after being destroyed in pain’s attack, she knew that she shouldn’t be frightened of this place, because if circumstances were different, she would have lived here.

But she learned to feel at ease here, after her father took her to dock where his father taught him fire jutsu, where he taught her it too, then he showed her his childhood home, which somehow remained intact then finally took her to this forest, where he told her all kinds of stories about her uncle.

It wasn’t until she was 16 did she learn the whole truth, no thanks to her parents of course, she couldn’t blame them though, they are her parents, it’s their job to protect her, and the anguish she felt then rivals only the anguish of losing a loved one.

‘’I would have guessed that Boruto would have found you.’’ Sasuke said suddenly, in his usual monotone.

 Sarada’s head snapped up, dango stick she was intently enjoying almost fell from her hand.

‘’Wha-why why would he find me?’’

Sasuke only looked at her with a look bordering on confusion.

‘’Isn’t that what he always does when he gets home from a mission?’’ Sasuke replied, gaze examining his daughter.

Sarada took a moment before she managed to muster a reply.

‘’Oh.’’

She could feel her cheeks turning red.

‘’Do you have a fever?’’He asked, which decreased Sarada’s mortification a bit cause at least her father is too clueless to notice this.

‘’Boruto might be under the weather too, his face was the same color as yours when we arrived home.’’

‘’What!? Really!?’’ Sarada exclaimed, her dango stick layed forgotten on the ground.

‘’I met up with him about a day away from Konoha,said he was on his way home from an important mission.’’ Sasuke said, a smirk still apparent on his face.

‘’Ohh,’’ Again that was all Sarada managed to say before continuing moments later,’’ He had to go on a mission a couple of days after that creep attacked Konoha.’’

Sasuke’s smirk again, this time out of pride rather than amusement, his daughter, the future of the Uchiha clan, stood up to an alien who wanted to destroy Konoha in vengeance of he and Naruto’s previous actions, both of them weren’t there, Sarada being the only thing that stood against them as Boruto went to free them from Kawaki’s seal.

‘’I know, though that doesn’t explain why his face turned to the same shade as yours right now when your name got brought up.’’ Sasuke said in a matter of fact way, almost sounding genuine.

But Sarada knew her father, knew that amused glint in his eyes, the way he smirks when he knows he’s on to something. She used to enjoy it when he was like that with her mother back when she was still getting used to him, but soon after he started teasing her too, even uniting with her mother against her, which often left Sarada a mumbling mess.

Sarada sighed, resigned to the fact that her father knew something was going on, focussing instead on the extent of his knowledge.

‘’Not funny papa.’’Sarada said, in the straightest tone she could manage.

‘’Hm.’’ Sasuke looked at Sarada’s half hearted glare, lips shaped into a pout and arms crossed, and suddenly all he could see was a younger version of Sakura.

She’s just like Sakura. He thought.

‘’You’ve been upset since I saw you.’’ Sasuke remarked, getting straight to the point.

At that Sarada’s shoulder slackened and her gaze went downwards for a few moments, but Sasuke didn’t pressure her, knowing that just like him, she needs time before talking.

A minute later she started to talk.

‘’Before Boruto went after Kawaki and I went to confront that creepy god like thing, we were together, and…,’’ Sarada took a breath before she continued her phrase, ‘’...We had a moment.’’ She admitted.

Sasuke raised his eyebrow slightly in an expression Sarada knows is curiosity, but as usual, he waited for her to continue instead of asking.

Other than the difficulty she faced when talking about this subject, she now has another difficulty in which she doesn’t know how her father would react to this particular thing.

Atleast with Mama I could predict her reaction…

Sasuke cleared his throat to get attention, taking the final bite from his onigiri pack.

Sarada seemed to get a bit of courage and looked at him, her mouth opening to say something but a moment later she reverted to her previous state, which is a blushing mess.

Sasuke sighed.

Definitely takes after her mother…

‘’Do you mean an intimate moment?’’ Sasuke asked, to which Sarada’s eyes widened, but she nodded.

‘’How intimate?’’

‘’Emmm…’’

‘’Sarada.’’ 

‘’He kissed me, and I kissed him back and before he left I poked his forehead like you do to Mama!’’

Sarada finally admitted for the first time since that day.

She could still feel it, still feel  his lips on hers, still feel his skin’s warmth on her fingers, the feeling of pure passion and fire she felt when he looked at her, when he made her promise that she’ll be okay.

That was the last time she saw him, she knew from her mother that he stayed by her bedside the two first days of her unconsciousness, but he had to leave for an important mission, though he wouldn’t leave without making Sakura promise to write him a letter informing him of Sarada’s state.

Sarada woke up a week after he left, two days later, her father went on his mission.

‘’And why are you upset?’’ Her father’s voice took her out of her stupor.

‘’Cause this feels weird, I always knew I loved him, but I don’t know when it progressed to being in love with him, I expected love to be a strong feeling, but not like this, not this scary...not …’’ Sarada struggled for a moment as tears fell from her eyes, ‘’...intense and deep and passionate and-and...I’m scared cause this is the first time I feel like this, I’m scared cause this might ruin us, scared of feeling something so strong but....’’

Sasuke only stared at her, almost knowing what she would say next.

‘’I love him Papa.’’ 

Sasuke’s gaze softened, as he stood up from his seat and went towards his sniffling daughter.

‘’You should go find him.’’ Sasuke said, wiping the tears off of Sarada’s face, he waited till she nodded before he poked her forehead and smiled at her, he then leaned down to pick the dango box.

Sarada knew where to find him, it was nearing evening, and he knew where she would be normally at this time, and he would be waiting for her there, like he always did.

‘’Thank you Papa,’’ Sarada said, before straightening up and taking a step away from her father towards her destination, but she suddenly stopped and looked at Sasuke again, ‘’ Tell Mama I’m sorry, I know she likes her dango warm.’’

Sasuke grunted, clear annoyance at being caught red handed, but he smiled again looking at the Uchiha symbol of his daughter’s back, sheer pride taking over him at what his daughter has become.

.

.

.

As she expected he was there, standing on the hokage mountain, on the empty space near lord seventh, where she would normally spend her evenings.

He sensed her coming, but didn’t turn around till she was about next to him.

‘’Hello hero.’’

‘’Hey Bo.’’

They stood in silence, each sneaking glances at the other before their eyes finally met, they both blushed a deep shade of red and looked onwards again.

Sarada didn’t know what to do, what to say, so she decided to just act like she would normally.

‘’You stink.’’ She remarked.

Boruto almost fell off the edge, he expected anything, anything but this.

‘’Excuse me! I just got back from a month long mission, dattebaseh!’’

‘’Well you could have stopped by your house and took a shower shanaro!.’’ she responded, turning her body so her eyes could meet his.

‘’I’m sorry! I was left  hanging last time I was in the village so kinda wanted to see what was up with that!’’

‘’I would have waited till the end of time, a shower is nothing!.’’ Sarada didn’t realise what she said until she saw Boruto’s expression turn from annoyance to confusion to shyness.

And then he was staring at her again, giving her the same look he gave that day a month ago, and then she felt it again, that intensity, passion, like a fire was burning inside her heart.

From the way he was looking at her, she knew he felt it too.

He took her hand in his, fingers reaching up to trace the scar on her arm, eyes never leaving hers as his other hand caressed her cheek.

‘’I’m sorry I had to go.’’ he muttered finally, in that soft tone he always used with her, just with her and no one else.

‘’It’s okay, you have your hero duties too.’’ she replied, a pure deep sense of satisfaction travelled through her body when his fingers descended from her arm to her hand, extending it, accessing the damage there.

That’s right, it was in bandages last time he saw me…

Sarada suddenly pushed her hand forward and put it over his heart, feeling an immediate sense of comfort at the thumping sensation she felt, his hand was still over hers,  pure blue eyes she loves so much looking deep into her soul, making her feel like they were the only two people in the world, just them, in this frozen moment in time.

In a sudden bout of courage, she circled her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her height, as one of his hands travelled towards her waist, the other still on her cheek, eyes never breaking apart except when their faces were inches apart, and then it happened, their lips met for the second time, time froze for the second time, they were connected for the second time.

A few seconds later they pulled apart, Sarada immediately buried her head in his chest, hiding her blush as he leaned his head on her shoulder.

The wind picked up, small pecks of water descended on them, but they both refused to pull apart, having waited too long for this.

Though a few minutes later they were drenched from head to toe and they had to pull apart.

Stupid rain! Sarada thought.

‘’You kept nagging about me taking a shower and look what happened.’’ Boruto teased, still close to Sarada, closer than he used to stand, his grasping Sarada’s, tangling their fingers together.

‘’Way to ruin the moment baka.’’ Sarada said, tossing him a glare, to which he laughed before looking into her eyes.

‘’I love you Sarada Uchiha.’’ he said, feeling like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders as he has been trying to say these five words since forever.

She looked at him, deep into his eyes, and she couldn’t help keep her sharingan at bay as it appeared out of instinct, upon feeling a strong emotion.

‘’I love you Boruto Uzumaki.’’

.

.

.

Sarada leaned her back against the door of her family home, a smile spreading across her face at what just happened, hands still in the pockets of the jacket he gave her, fingers still tingling from his touch, lips still warm from his, the soft thumps of his heart still in her ears.

It wasn’t until a couple of minutes of sitting there did she realise that the lights of the living room were on, which was weird since it was the middle of night, both her parents would be asleep by now, her mother for her morning shift and her father for his early morning report.

She walked quietly towards the lit room, afraid to wake her parents in case they were asleep on the couch again, which till this day she can’t comprehend how two full grown adults fit on their tiny couch.

To her surprise they were both awake and sitting on the couch, tea cups in hand and looking expectantly at her, both sprouting devious grins, Sasuke to a lesser extent of course.

‘’What!?’’ Sarada asked, looking between the two.

‘’Nice jacket.’’ Sakura remarked, grin turning into a full smile.

Sarada blushed and looked at the floor.

‘’Yeah yeah...’’ Sarada said, cheeks turning red fir what must have been the millionth time today before turning her body towards the stairs, but before she was out of sight she said something.

‘’Thank you.’’

[yukeri]

[YURI&Co. Headquarters]

THIS PIECE CONTAINS STRONG LANGUAGE AND ARGUING - Starring: Hong Yumin, CEO Na Deokhyun - Synopsis: Yumin, feeling as if she has nothing left to lose, makes one last attempt to save her career. - Year: 2019 - Length: 1,867 w.

Yumin stood in the elevator nervously wringing her white linen top. Just go in and make your demands. Don’t take no for an answer.

A chime signaled she’d reached her destination, and the following robotic voice confirmed it. She could feel the temperature drop as she stepped out of the elevator and into the frozen tundra that is the CEO’s floor. But it didn’t discourage her; it’s no secret that the CEO is very sensitive to warmth and keeps his office floor cool. It also serves as a cheap ploy to subconsciously intimidate any industry adversaries coming to meet with him and make them more susceptible to his coercion, but it won’t work on her. Hong Yumin was on a mission that she had been psyching herself up for over the past several days. Nothing could destroy her resolve.

She strolled up to his secretary. “Hi, Jeongho,” she said as sweetly as she could without cringing, “Is the CEO busy?”

He glanced at the man's schedule; “Uh, not right now,” he said hesitantly, “But he has a meeting in 10 minutes.”

This is your chance.

“Sorry, do you have an appointment? I don’t see one--”

“That’s all the time I need,” Yumin said, strutting right past Jeongho and approaching the CEO’s office. She could hear the secretary’s stuttering protests as she reached the door. She paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and entered the breach.

I did it, she thought as she closed the door behind her. Yumin slowly turned around. She had only seen the eggshell walls and cement flooring of the CEO’s office on two occasions: the day she signed her contract with Tastemaker and about a week ago when TM Girls was disbanded. Such a rush of emotions came over her that she almost forgot why she had committed this career-threatening faux pas in the first place. Flustered, she swallowed her feelings and greeted the CEO politely: “Good afternoon, CEO.”

“Yumin-ah...good afternoon,” the CEO replied curiously, looking up from his thick-rimmed glasses. He glanced at his iPad confirming what he already knew, “According to my schedule, you don’t have an appointment with me.” Yumin stood visibly trembling as he looked her up and down. “So either my secretary just lost his job, or you’ve lost your mind,” he said with a dry chuckle.

Then he stared at her with that look, his eyes fixed upon her and his eyebrows raised. The look was not openly nefarious as he is the CEO and must keep the appearance of approachability even behind closed doors, but to anyone who knew him that look was just as effective as a gorgon's stare.

Just like that, Yumin froze. She felt all that hard-earned conviction drain from her body and immediately realized the grave mistake she had made. Stop freaking out! You got this, Yumin’s inner motivation coach called out trying to preserve the last ounces of confidence she had left. You’re already here; you might as well speak! She opened her mouth, not particularly sure as to whether coherent words or her breakfast would come out, “Yes-- I mean, no. I don’t have a-- er, an appointment.” Alright, looks like we’re getting somewhere. She started regaining her confidence and spoke again with a voice significantly less shaky; “But please, if I could have a moment of your time--”

Suddenly, Yumin heard the subtle tones of the CEO’s phone. She looked down at the cellphone on his desk, then back at him as he pressed the tip of his AirPod. “Hello,” he answered, “Oh, Kyungsoo-ya! How’s filming going?”

Then it hit her: all the emotions she'd swallowed. The years of anxiety facing the possibility that she might never debut; the anger from the relentless hiatuses she had no choice but to endure; the devastation when she was told for the second time that the group she cherished more than anything in the world was no more. They were all festering inside her and had amalgamated into a feeling she rarely experienced: pure rage.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Yumin thought. The CEO jerked his head up to look at her with an expression of plain shock. Oh, wait...no, she said that. To the CEO.

Before he could utter another word, Yumin’s hand had snatched the phone off his desk and ended the call with whoever was on the line. She clutched the CEO’s phone in her hand as he stared at her in disbelief. Yumin didn’t back down; she stared right back.

“Okay, I’m listening,” he said flatly, breaking the silence.

Yumin took another deep breath and finally spoke her mind, “The only reason I signed a contract with this company was because you guaranteed that I would debut within 6-8 months. That was over two years ago; I--”

The CEO groaned and rolled his eyes as he reclined in his chair, his folded hands on his chest and his eyes fixed on her. Sorry, am I boring you?! I can’t believe this smug bastard...

His phone began to vibrate in her hand, but she swiftly declined the call. “I-- I am tired,” she said in a tone louder than what she had intended. “I’m tired of getting calls from my grandparents asking me to come back home because I have no future here; I’m tired of training trainees half my age that debut before I do; I’m tired of being the oldest trainee I know that isn’t anywhere near a debut; and I’m tired of putting my faith in old men who so easily crush the dreams of young, hardworking trainees because they’ve never had to experience this disappointment in their life.”

The CEO glared at her with his eyebrows furrowed, clearly offended. She decided it would be better to switch up her argument: “Look, when I left JYP...I was devastated. I worked so hard and all I got in return was a cancelled debut. Looking back, I can see that if I had debuted then I would’ve left the group almost immediately. I wasn’t ready; I would’ve been torn to shreds for my lack of ability. But I am a thousand times better than I was all those years ago because of Tastemaker. I was an alright rapper when I got here; now I’m the rap instructor. I can out-rap any trainee under this label, male or female. I was a good dancer before, and now I can out-dance our choreographer-- her words, not mine.”

The CEO chuckled lightly at her claim before she continued, “I have leadership quality, an attractive personality, and great visuals...but what good is having those attributes if no one sees them?” The CEO nodded thoughtfully.

Now we’re here, she thought, the hardest part. She took one final deep breath and gave her ultimatum, “I’ll always be thankful to you...and to Tastemaker for making me better...but if you don’t plan on debuting me, then...then just let me go. This way, we can stop wasting each other’s time.”

There. Yumin had said her piece and now it was time to listen.

The CEO cleared his throat and began to speak: “Wow…how dare you speak to me this way?! You have absolutely no idea why I make the decisions I make, and I will not be told what to do by some little bitch who thinks she’s talented because she can rhyme two words together.” Yumin was speechless; she could see what could’ve been a successful career flashing before her eyes...now it’s all gone. She felt her heart sink as tears welled up in her eyes. “Give me my phone!” He snarled at her, snatching his phone from her extended hands; “By the time I’m done calling every agency and talent scout in my address book, you won’t be able to open a fucking YouTube channel! You’ll have to go back to your grandparents’ and become a turnip farmer, shoveling shit to make a living.” He pulled her contract from his drawer, “You want me to ‘let you go’? So be it.” He pulled out a lighter from his pocket and set it ablaze. Yumin could only watch and cry as her dreams literally went up in smoke. The CEO threw the remnants of her contract in the garbage, “Now get the fuck out of my office,” he hissed, “You’re done.”

But no, he did not say that. In fact, he did not say anything. The CEO simply glared at her without a word and all Yumin could do was glare back. Say something, dammit! She thought. Yell, scream, something.

After what seemed like hours of deafening silence, he finally spoke, “Wow...that was impressive,” he stated flatly while opening his iPad. “Tell me, Yumin, do you remember Moon Yuri?” She was still reeling from the thought of what could’ve happened, but responded, “Uh...yes. Wasn’t he involved in THE FUN FACTORY?”

“Correct,” the CEO replied while checking some emails and notifications, “That call that you declined a few minutes ago? That was him. ” He gestured towards the phone that was still in her hand; she’d almost forgotten she had taken it. “Moon has made a request to establish his own label within the company. I just needed him to confirm some last-minute details.”

Yumin clearly didn’t understand, so the CEO attempted to clarify as he reviewed some charts and graphs, “Yuri is planning to debut a new girl group next year and he’s looking for 6-7 girls to be in it. Tastemaker isn’t planning on debuting any other groups as of right now, so any Tastemaker trainee may audition for him. Whoever is accepted will have their contract transferred to his label. No hassle.” Yumin finally realized what he was saying.

“But-- when is the audition?” “That was one of the details he needed to confirm. I’d say about a month or two?” “And...I can audition?” “I recommended you personally,” he said, making eye contact with her for a moment before taking out a pen and flipping through some important-looking documents. “I was in the middle of drafting a memo with all the details.”

Yumin stared into space, feeling like a complete idiot. If I had just waited a little longer...

“Um, may I have my phone back?” the CEO asked politely, but sternly, “I do have some important calls to make.” Yumin snapped out of her trance and hurriedly rested the CEO’s iPhone on his desk. The CEO continued to split his attention between the graphs on his iPad, the documents on his desk, and now the iPhone which was connecting to no doubt some other big name in the industry.

Yumin didn't know what to say. “CEO...I’m--” The CEO started chatting with someone on the other line. She averted her gaze as she pondered what to do next, eventually deciding to leave. She turned and walked towards the door. “Oh, Yumin-ah,” he innocently called out just as she was about to exit the room. She turned back to him, “Yes, sir?”

“Don’t pull this shit again,” he calmly ordered, “Because next time you won’t be so lucky.”

Slightly unnerved, Yumin nodded in agreement and exited the CEO’s office with another chance. Fourth time’s the charm, I hope.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #390

“i am the enemy, here to save the day!”

When was the last time you woke up in the middle of the night? I do this LITERALLY every night. Do you write? (Songs, poems ect..) RP posts and rarely poetry. What is the easiest type of YouTube video to binge watch? Probably a good let's play of a game I'm really into. Do you color Easter eggs still? I haven't in years. I would if it was offered up, though. Do you prefer to decorate with pastel colors or bright colors for Easter? Pastelllll. Do you own a cross necklace? I did in the past, but I don't now. What color is your favorite pair of shorts? I don’t wear shorts. Do you prefer bright colors, dark colors, or pastel colors? Pastels. What’s something that makes you tired? Socializing. Like it's physically draining to me. Do you like drawing or painting better? Drawing. Do you own any foreign coins? No. Do you prefer soft tacos or hard? I hate tacos. Any recent purchases? My niece's birthday is coming up, so I bought her a Disney version of a board game from my childhood called "Pretty Pretty Princess." She's going to love it. :') Do you ever make mixed CD’s for anyone? I never did, no. Are you into gory movies? Yeah. Have you ever been locked in a room forcefully without anyone knowing? omg no Do you have the same color eyes as your mother? No. Do you know anyone who has overdosed? Me. Though I obviously didn't die. Have you ever been put to sleep for surgery? Twice. What is your favorite online smiley face to you? I think I use (: the most. What is something that freaks you out no matter what? Seeing babies move in their mother's stomach makes me want to shriek and vomit. Do you have any fetishes? No. Do you take a lot of photos? Sigh, not as much as I used to... I just don't know what to photograph anymore. Never leaving home doesn't help. Do you have big ears? No; I actually have very small ears, as has been pointed out to me. Do you have a laptop, desktop or both? A laptop. Have you ever met an online friend in real life? Yes! :') There are more I wanna meet. What would you say is your favorite color, out of them all? Baby pink. Have you ever attempted suicide? Yes. What are you most known for? In my real life, my art "skills." Online, probably my obsession with meerkats. Do you have a problem with body hair? Nope. The stigma of it needs to fucking stop. If you bathe yourself and keep your hair groomed, who the actual fuck cares what YOU do with YOUR body. Have you ever been so depressed, you were put on medication? I've been medicated for depression since the 7th grade. What is one thing you think is gross about the human body? Fluids like pus gross me out. Have you ever witnessed someone being murdered? Jesus, no. o_o At what age do you plan to get married? I'd like to as a young adult, but it's not that big a deal for me because I don't want kids (I wouldn't want kids 'til marriage if I did). Do you have any candles in your room? No, but a wax warmer. Ever make a friendship bracelet for someone? Yeah, as a kid. What have you been made fun of for the most? People love to pick on me always being on the computer, when I REALLY wish they fucking wouldn't. I'm aware it's an issue that I've had before I was even a teenager and it makes me SUPER self-conscious. When you’re visiting a site, do you still type ‘www.’? No; I kinda forgot that was a thing, lol. Can you still read the time if an analogue clock doesn’t have numbers on it? Yeah. To whom will/did you first talk about the first time you’ve had sex? My mom, I think. What is something you didn’t like about being thirteen? Acne lmaooo. What can you hear right now? "Girls" by Marina. It's really been jammed in my head lately. Do you think it’s okay for kids to have cellphones? Depends on the age and the phone, imo. I personally am for the idea of (slightly older) children having some sort of cell phone with limited applications, just because emergencies happen, and if I was a mom, I'd want my child to ALWAYS be able to reach me like if they were at a friend's or something. I'll tell you right now kids don't need extravagant iPhones, though. Again: limited applications, also to prevent addiction. Do you have any siblings? If so which one of them do you get along with the best? I have one brother and technically five sisters, but I know nothing of one of them. I don't really know who I get along with best...? I'm sadly not exceptionally close to any. What’s your favorite TV show? And who’s your favorite character from it? My favorite show of all time is Meerkat Manor, wherein my favorite character was Mozart. What kind of signs do you use when you pose for pictures? I usually don't make any, but I'll sometimes do a peace sign. What math subject is your favorite? Um, none? How about science? Genetics. Do you have a favorite Youtuber? If so, who? And what is your favorite video by them? Markiplier, obviously. :') Favorite video... I think it's gotta be the first video of the Dark route in "A Date With Markiplier." It's, uh, special to me lmfao. What’s your favourite Mexican dish? I just like quesadillas. Have you ever ordered a specially made cake from a cake shop? Yeah. Well I mean, Mom has. What’s the name of your first real boyfriend or girlfriend? Jason. Have you ever dated a model? No. What is your ultimate goal in life? To be happy and satisfied with what I've done. Have you ever visited someone in prison? No. What months were you and your siblings born in? I was born in February, my younger sister in April, and my older sister is a June baby. Do you write down your passwords in a physical place to prevent losing them? No. x_x Do you have any injuries at the moment? No. Are you tall, short or average? Would you change this? Average. Nah. Have you ever taken an acting class? No, not my thing. Have you ever worked in a store while someone shoplifted there? Yikes, no. Is there anything you absolutely refuse to eat? Venison. Basically anything hunted primarily for sport. If you killed something that did not need to be killed to provide for yourself, I'm not touching it. Have you ever lived in university/college campus housing? No. Who was the last person you complimented? I think my mom? She's doing great with her diet, and I can tell she's lost weight. Do you like spring rolls? Yeah, they're decent. What do you live on in terms of a street, road, crescent, place, court etc? Court. What’s your favourite type of curry? I don't know if I've ever tried any. Have you ever had casual sex? No. Not my jam. If your phone rang right now from a number you don’t know, would you answer? Nope. What was your first pet’s name and how did you pick that? My first personal pet was either my guinea pig Squeak or Chinese water dragon Shadow. I could NOT tell you why I named a green lizard "Shadow," but I called Squeak "Squeak" because he, well, squeaked, lol. How tall are your highest heels? Not high at all. What’s your favourite flavour of frosting? Chocolate. Last thing you looked up on Wikipedia? It was a band that needed a Wikipedia link to go on the Silent Hill wiki. Someone pointed out in trivia that Tears of Mankind covered a SH piece. Should guys keep their shirts on at shows? Unless there's a good reason, like you're seriously overheating, I think so. What about girls? The same as guys. I do think women should keep their bras on though mostly for their own protection because people are pigs. Do you have multiple playlists on YouTube? Yes. What is a goal that you have trouble accomplishing? Losing weight, apparently... What color is your Easter basket? I don't have one anymore. My childhood one was a light tan basket with a baby pink frill around it. What do you need to get from the store right now? Mom just got groceries the other day. What is something that you used to feel ashamed of, but now you don’t? I can't think of anything. EVERYTHING embarrasses me, so. What is your favorite part of growing older? Uhhhhhh. Are you hypersensitive? If so, in what ways are you hypersensitive? Yes, to textures in food. What’s a drug that’s made you gain weight? Paxil was the first, but I worked it all off and got in the best shape of my life. Then Abilify absolutely destroyed my body as far as my weight is concerned because my doctor was an absolute, utter fucking idiot that I will never forgive. Is there a piece of jewelry you have your eye on right now? No. Do you believe that people can be asexual? Bro the fuck, of course I do. What color is your Bible, if you have one? I don't have one. When are you at your happiest? When I first wake up and get on the computer. New day, same shit, but don't tell me that. :^) Do you prefer to spend your time indoors or outdoors? I mean, it really depends on my mood as well as the weather, but generally, indoors. Can you honestly say that you love yourself? Nope. Where did you go, the last time you left your house? My sister's house to celebrate her husband's birthday. Do you like your singing voice? Meh, it depends on the song I'm singing, but usually, no. Have you ever done a psychedelic drug? If not, would you ever consider it? No to both.

[slashiest-slasher]

For @slashthedice‘s Frisky February!

Day 4: Spanking

Brahms Heelshire x male s/o

"What the hell?"

This is it, your breaking point with Brahms. There's a lot of shit you could take from him, but you are at your limit, and if you didn't have a stronger resolve you'd walk out of the house right this instant.

Your cellphone, smashed to bits. Years and years of emotional turmoil written down into a journal, gone for a week only to show up in the foyer ripped to little pieces and scattered like snow. And the icing on the cake was your all the pills, from your previously full bottle, floating in the toilet.

And Brahms just stands there in the middle of his bedroom, arms behind his back, and looking at the floor. Fully prepared for a scolding and a slap on the wrist. You always did, so matter how badly he acted, so why would that change now?

But your voice isn't hot and seething like it normally is, it's cold and level, and it makes his guts twists with guilt worse than anything he's felt before.

"Do you know how bad what you did was, Brahms?" you ask him, arms crossed. When he doesn't say anything, but shifts between his feet, you speak up, louder. "Well?"

"I took your stuff without asking," he says. "And I wasn't happy with it and destroyed it. But it was your stuff, and I shouldn't have."

"That's it? That's all you have to say?" Venom drips from your voice. There's no way in hell you're letting him off easy for this, not in the slightest. He's trying to be cutesy, but you have other ideas in mind.

“I was very bad, even though I promised I would be good. Those things were very personal and I shouldn't have gotten mad and destroyed them. I'm sorry." He twirls from side to side, trying to sway you in his favor.

"Yes, you were very bad. But do you know why I'm so mad about the pills in particular?"

Brahms finally looks you in the eyes, head tilted to the side. "Why?" he asks with genuine curiosity.

"Because I need those pills to function, and I can't just stop taking them all of sudden. Did you know if I didn't have an extra bottle hidden, I could've been hurt badly? I could’ve gotten very sick, and I would have died a very painful and slow death, Brahms."

Even though he still has his mask on, you know his eyebrows shoot up underneath. He rushes forward and grips your shoulders tightly. "I didn't know," he says frantically, eyes wet. "I just didn't like how they make your head fuzzy. Please, I'm sorry."

You pull back from him, and sit down on the edge of the bed. "I need to punish you, you know that right? Now, you're going to be a good boy and take off your trousers and pants, lay across my lap, and take everything I give you. If you don't, I'll be very cross, and I'm going to leave for and stay with Malcolm for a few months until I'm not."

His eyes bug out at the mere mention of Malcolm, and you think he's going to get angry again, but he doesn't. He obediently gets out of the required clothes, hurriedly, and climbs into your lap. His ass is hairy just like the rest of him, and normally you'd think it gross, but on Brahms, it's sort of fitting.

You take a moment to grip his ass cheeks, nice and firm, which make a whine form in his throat. "I want you to count out each spank you get. I'm going to start with 20, and each time you mess up, I'm starting over. Understood?"

His hair bounces as he nods. "One." You start off easy on him at first, as if you were swatting at a bug, but slowly ramp up the intensity.

Brahms squirms in your lap, and you can feel his cock twitching and slowly hardening against your thigh after each spank. He desperately tries to keep his moans and whines quiet, but he can't and each high pitched noise he makes it utterly endearing. "N-nine, ten- ah!" He jolts and gasp as you hit him with a particularly hard strike. And then another. "Twel- no eleven! I meant eleven!"

You shake your head when he looks back at you with big eyes. "You know the rules, now I have to start over."

"No, please! I didn't mean to!" he goes to gets up, but must have remembered what you said you would do if he didn't take the punishment.

You wait no time in hitting him hard and relentlessly. He wails out each number, sobbing out the last few until you're back up to ten. You stop for a good few minutes to rub at the rosy skin, soothing away the red marks. "Do you like this Brahmsy?" you ask him in a low voice, hitting him again.

His erection is incessant poking your thigh, and you can feel him leaking pre-cum all over your trousers. "Eleven." He shakes his head, entire body trembling, and at that, you bring your hand down full force in three rapid successions. "Twelve, thirteen, four-teen!" he manages out in sobs. Tears were rolling down his mask and dripping down onto the blankets.

"Good boys don't lie. If you lie to me again, I'll add on 10 more spanks on top of everything else. Now, do you like this Brahms?" You rub his ass again, waiting for him to respond.

He clutches the blankets, trying to hide his already masked face. He mutters out something, but you can't quite make it out. You don't need to say anything, only press your hand firmly to his bruised ass. "Y-yes," he manages. "It hurts so much, but I like it... I don't know why." The tears don't stop pouring down his face.

And fuck, that's hot. The anger in you has melted away slightly, and now you just want this over with. The last six aren't as hard as some of the others, sans the last one. And thankfully, Brahms doesn't mess them up.

By the last spank, he's fully crying again, face completely hidden in the blanket. He sucks in shuddering breaths trying to gain control of himself, but he can't stop the sobs.

You slip a hand underneath his shirt and rub his making, making soothing noises at him. "You took that so well Brahmsy. Such a good boy, a good, handsome boy," you assure him in a low voice.

Brahms sniffles, and lifts his face from the bed. "Really? You're not mad anymore?"

Oh, you're still pissed at him for that, but you smile, and run your fingers through his hair. "No. You did so well that you deserve a treat." You get the little bottle of lube from your trouser pockets, and trickle it between Brahms' cheeks.

He hisses out at the sting, but that quickly turns into a shaky moan when you slip a finger, and then two, into his entrance. You seek out and fuck his prostate relentlessly, leaving him shaking and mewling.

He curls his toes, and tries to hide his face again in the bed. "Ah ah ah, I want to hear you Brahmsy," you tease, fucking him harder. He lifts his face up, letting out a loud, uncontrolled moan. You only wish he would take the mask off so you could see how red his cheeks are.

He cums not long after that, spending all over your lap as he tenses up and chokes on a silent moan. Under any normal circumstance you would've asked for at least a blowjob in return, but Brahms is dead weight on top of your lap right now.

You get out from under him, change into clean trousers, and grab the arnica ointment from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. When you get back to his room, he's clutching his pillow and hiding his face in it. You sit down on the bed next to him, and gingerly rub the ointment all over the red and bruised skin on his ass.

Brahms hisses and groans at it, but stops when you remove his mask and press a kiss to his lips. "You take a nap, Brahmsy. I'll wake you up when dinner is ready, alright? I'll make whatever you want. Does that sound good?"

He nods shyly. "Homemade tomato soup and rarebit, please?" he asks.

You nod in return, and give him another kiss before leaving. You pause to turn off the lights, leave the bedroom door slightly ajar, and turn on the hallway lamps.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

[checkmate] [1]

Summary: After ten years of fighting and surviving their way through the apocalypse in search of their son, Hugo and Isabel Sulieman finally find Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youth and are ready to reunite with Louis. 

Notes: This is a story that I’ve worked on for a long time now. It was originally going to be a prize oneshot for @bluebutterfly1​ after she won the contest I held back in December, but once I started writing it, I found that I had a lot more to say that couldn’t be kept condensed to a single short story without being annoyingly long or crashing Tumblr. 

That being said, I’ve split the oneshot into four parts and will be posting it as such on here and AO3. Thank you for your patience with me, Katie, and I hope you and everyone else enjoy this story! 

Read on AO3 

---

“Good morning. Ericson’s Boarding School, Elaine speaking. How may I help you?”

“Yes, this is Hugo Sulieman. I’d like to speak to my son, Louis.” 

“Of course, let’s see… Louis Sulieman… Alright, I’ll call him down. Please hold.”

“Thank you.” 

...

“...Mr. Sulieman? Louis is currently in the nurse’s office.”

“What? Is he alright?”

“Oh yes, he says that he’s not feeling well. There’s a bit of the bug going around right now, but it’s nothing to worry about. Can I have him call you when Ms. Martin’s finished looking him over?”

“I’d rather speak to him right now, actually.” 

“Well, it should only be another ten to fifteen minutes or so. We want to make sure he’s getting proper treatment for whatever he has. I’ll make sure he calls you right back. ”

“...Okay, yeah, sure. Have him call. He knows the number.”

“I sure will! You have a good day, Mr. Sulieman.”

“You, too. Thank you.” 

---

“Good afternoon. Ericson’s Boarding School, Elaine speaking. How may I help you?”

“This is Hugo Sulieman. I called this morning about Louis and he still hasn’t called me back. Is he feeling better?” 

”...Oh, yes! I’m so sorry, it’s been such a busy day here! Okay, let me see… Louis Sulieman… Okay… room 2-A Scie- Alright, I’ll call him down for you. Please hold.”

“Thank you.”

...

“Mr. Sulieman?”

“Yes?”

“We’re currently… uhm, having trouble getting Louis down to the office. Can I have him-”

“Look, it’s an emergency- uh, a family emergency.”

“Oh-”

“Please tell him that. I’ll hold.”

“Right-”

…

“...Mr. Sulieman?”

“He still won’t come down.”

“He’s in the nurse’s office. I’m sorry, I can-”

“Have him call me when he’s finished.”

“Right.”

“...”

“...Sir?”

“...Shit- uh, excuse me, I apologize- I just…  tell him it’s important and to call home as soon as possible. The number is 917-346-4785. You have it in your records and he knows it, but when he tells you he doesn’t, just dial it for him. Please, it’s urgent.”

“Of course, Mr. Sulieman. I will. Have a good day, okay?”

“Thank you. You, too. Bye.”

---

“Good morning. Ericson’s Boarding School, Elaine speaking. How may I help you?”

“Hi, Elaine, it’s Hugo Sulieman again. How are you?”

“Oh, I’m good, thank you! How are you?”

“Fine. I’m calling to let you know I’m flying in next Friday to pick Louis up for the weekend.”

“Alright, we can arrange that… Let me see- will he be back by the following Monday morning?”

“Yeah, I’ll probably drop him off Sunday night if everything goes smoothly. We may have to stay an extra night, but I’ll call and let you know if that’s the case. Will you let him know so that he can be ready when I get there?”

“Of course. Did you want to speak to him? I can call him down.”

“...No, no, that’s alright.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to him when I get there. Thank you.” 

---

“Thank you for calling Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youth. We are currently unavailable. Please call back tomorrow during open hours between 7:00 am and 5:00 pm, or leave a message and we’ll get back to you as soon as possible. If this is an emergency, please contact Headmaster Davidson at 681-782-1485.” 

---

“Thank you for calling Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youth. We are currently unavailable. Please call back tomorrow during open hours between 7:00 am and 5:00 pm, or leave a message and we’ll get back to you as soon as possible. If this is an emergency, please contact Headmaster Davidson at 681-782-1485.” 

---

“Thank you for calling Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youth. We are currently unavailable. Please call back tomorrow during open hours between 7:00 am and 5:00 pm, or leave a message and we’ll get back to you as soon as possible. If this is an emergency, please contact Headmaster Davidson at 681-782-1485.” 

---

“This is Richard Davidson, Headmaster of Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youth. I’m not available at the moment. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you. Thank you.” 

---

"We're sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again."

---

"We're sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again."

---

"We're sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again."

---

"We're sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected-”

The cellphone shatters against the cement wall, slivered shards of broken glass and electronic bits flying everywhere. With the blunt force follows a frustrated, miserable cry as Hugo Sulieman hunches over in defeat, face buried in sweaty palms, fingers raking through and tugging painfully at blood-matted hair.  

“Hugo!” 

“It’s the same damn thing!” he exclaims, whirling around, beginning a pace back and forth around the room. 

Stepping out of his way, a terrible mixture of panic and disbelief on her lovely face, Isabel gapes up at him. She rushes over to the phone, kneeling to examine the damage only to find that it’s broken beyond repair.

“I’ve called,” Hugo continues, “and called, and called again! Everything’s disconnected! I can’t get ahold of anyone! Not the school, not Richard, not Stephen or-or Louise! Not the house phone, nothing!”

“So what?” Isabel exclaims. “You thought breaking it against the wall would do the trick? That was my phone, Hugh! The only phone we have down here! Now if they call us back, how are we-”

“They can’t call us back because everything’s disconnected! Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

Her dark eyes narrow, arms folded over her chest as she snaps back, “You’re screaming at me, so yeah, I heard you perfectly clear!”

“I’m not screaming at you!”

“Oh no? You’re not, huh? Excuse me, my mistake! I must’ve taken you raising your voice for screaming!”

“Don’t.”

 “What?” Isabel demands, clutching his arm in a vice grip, forcing him to face her. “Don’t what? Don’t be upset?”

“Don’t start-”

“Well, I’m sorry, Hugh, I’m not exactly thrilled to be stuck down here while those- those things ransack and destroy the house above us!”

“Isabel-”

“And excuse me, if I’m upset because we can’t get ahold of that fucking school so I don’t know if Louis is okay or not, and now I may never know because you broke our only fucking phone!” 

Fury bounces off the walls, echoing through the bunker and creating a tension that even the sharpest of blades couldn’t hope to slice through. Isabel’s breaths come out in quick puffs. She has to squeeze her eyes shut and force evenness into her breathing before she passes out again. 

Hugo watches her helplessly, bones weighing him down as through the marrow were replaced with wet cement. He falls down in one of the chairs. Fluffy, comfortable and expensive, just like everything else he’d bought to occupy their fortified, underground bunker. 

He thought the idea of an underground bunker a waste of money, but after many nights spent watching the horrors that occupied the news channels, and from encouragement from his mother and co-workers, he had the basement transformed into the safest bunker money could buy. 

Just in case, he supposed, or rather, justified. Once finished, its purpose became a means of escape for him, a place he could go when he needed a break from work, from dealing with the construction of their new home, from Isabel and Louis.

A break from his family. God...

A break by himself to sit in that comfortable chair, put a classical record on the player that belonged to his mother before her untimely passing, and pick up a Tom Clancy novel from the overflowing bookcase. Relax after a long day at work and have a moment with nothing but contentment. 

Or, perhaps he’d play a game of pool against himself, or spend an hour on the phone with his mother discussing- or, in her case, gossiping- about his siblings and other extended families. 

On days when he wanted company, when Louis was in school or at his piano lessons, Hugo would find Isabel in the kitchen brewing a cup of coffee or flipping through his mother’s old recipe book. He’d approach her from behind, hands slipping around her waist as he whispered an invitation to join him down in their bunker. He had the extra cozy loveseat in the corner for a reason, after all. 

“Hugh,” Isabel pleads, having steadied her breathing. “What do we do? We can’t just stay here. We have to go get Louis!”

Louis...

On special occasions, Hugo would invite Louis down here with him. He didn’t like the idea of Louis sneaking around down there alone, figuring the boy would become too curious and end up hurting himself or find Hugo’s secret stash of cigars and ask his mother about them, so he was only allowed down here under his strict supervision. 

Not that Louis could break-in alone- well, that’s what he had thought at the time- with the door having a passcode to enter. 

That was a mistake on Hugo’s part. Not the passcode itself, but the underestimation of his son and his ability and determination to wiggle his way into places he shouldn’t be without getting caught. 

Hugo only every brought Louis down there to do one of two things: watch a movie in the theater room or play a few rounds of chess. 

“Hugh?” Isabel exasperates. “Hugo?”

Louis learned to play from his grandmother. Hugo was pleased to see him take such an interest in the game considering all the gaming consoles he usually occupied himself with. As he got older, he grew strategic, clever in his moves, and with that came Louis’ bets. 

“If you win, I’ll clean my room. If I win… I get to take singing lessons.” 

Hugo only ever agreed to his silly bets because he knew Louis couldn’t beat him. 

Until he finally did. 

Mid-December, a Wednesday. School had been canceled due to the severe weather, so he and Louis, both in their pajamas and a plate of blueberry pancakes, sat in their theater and marathoned all three of the Back to the Future movies. Once they had their fill of Marty McFly and Dr. Brown, Louis begged to play a round of chess before dinner with the usual bet placed on the table. 

The shit-eating grin Louis wore when he checkmated him was one that Hugo wished he could’ve captured, along with the sight of his own jaw practically scraping the floor, he’s sure. 

An eleven-year-old beating him at chess… Hugo should’ve been ashamed, but how could he when watching his son- his only son, God- jump up from his seat and do his victory dance while chanting, “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

That pride swelled in his chest like an overblown balloon, only to pop when Louis pointed at him and claimed, “I won, so now I get to take singing lessons!”

“Hugo!” Isabel snaps her fingers in his face. “Where’d you go?”

Her gaze burns as she waits for a reply but gets none. 

“Dad, I want to be a real musician.”

Hugo has nothing left to say.

“Hugh, listen to me. We have to go get him.” 

Inhaling deep, air sweetened with the scent of spicy apples emitting from the automatic air freshener, Hugo sighs. Wiping his forehead, wincing at the press against his bandaged wound, he stands from his chair to take several unsteady steps towards Isabel. 

“We can’t just go up there,” he says, motioning towards the ceiling.

“Why not?” 

“Isabel,” he stops her, “we don’t know how many broke in, or if they’re still up there-”

“I haven’t heard anything for a few hours! They probably all left!”

“You haven’t heard anything thing because you won’t be quiet,” Hugo sighs. “But, I can. The ceiling- it creaks like someone’s walking around up there.”

“Oh, bullshit-”

“Isabel, if one of those things grabs you? You’re done. You saw what they can do.”

“I know! I don’t care- they won’t! I won’t let them grab me. I can’t just sit here and wait it out! Not when Lou is out there scared out of his goddamn mind or-or-!” Isabel takes a gulp of air, squeezing her eyes shut before shaking her head. ”Maybe it isn’t bad there. Maybe the school’s okay and it’s safer there for us anyway.”

“If that’s true, then why not pick up the phone?” Hugo argues weakly. “Why is the line disconnected? Why is the power out? Why is nothing working?”

“Maybe it’s a problem on our end, I don’t know! All I know is that I’m not sitting around here for another day while Louis is still out there! God, we should’ve just- just gone straight there when we had the chance! As soon as we saw it!”

“There were too many of them,” Hugo says. “There’s no way we would’ve made it out of town, not with traffic and all those things roaming around.”

“We could’ve flown!”

“No pilot would take us anywhere. Not in this mess.”

“Then I’d fly the damn thing!”

“You know how to fly a plane?” Hugo raises a brow. “Or a jet? Or anything?”

“No, but I could’ve figured it out!” Isabel throws her hands up, stomping her foot. “They have manuals!”

“And you’d be patient enough to read it?” Hugo almost smiles at the glare she shoots him, picturing her kicking the pilot out of a private jet to fly herself, both of them arguing as the plane wobbled around in the air through the city and all the way to West Virginia. 

Hugo shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter now, anyway.” 

Isabel pauses her pacing, back towards him as she runs her manicured over bloodshot, swollen eyes. She’s shaking, whether in rage or fear or something else, Hugo doesn’t know. 

“Unbelievable,” she whispers. “Un-fucking-believable.” 

A scolding builds in his throat, a “Language, honey,” as if he had a real reason to say it. Force of habit, even now, even after everything. 

Hugo heads towards the bar, paying the glass tank that lay there a glance. 

Geoff is still, beady eyes narrowed as the turtle watches him. Hugo glares back.

When the news of the dead spread, Isabel drove over in a panic. Those things broke into the apartment complex she lived in, she saw the damage they left when they got a hold of someone. 

She burst in, jacket torn and hair a mess, speaking frantically and demanding to know where Louis was. Once they got her breathing under control, she helped him secure the door, then ran upstairs to Louis’ room despite Hugo’s protests. She gathered every photo, notebook, every piece of clothing she should shove into a piece of carry-on luggage, and finally, Louis’ pet turtle, Geoff. 

Hugo was never a fan of Geoff. Since the day they brought him home from the pet store, he always looked at Hugo like he could see straight through all of his bullshit, could pinpoint what his every downfall amounted to, and thought himself better than Hugo. Condescending, arrogant little shit. 

It’s all in his head, he knows, but look into Geoff’s eyes long enough and it’s there- the judgment. 

Except when Louis was around. The damn turtle loved Louis as much as turtles can possibly love. Geoff had no choice but to love him with the excessive amount of strawberries and fresh greens Louis fed him every day. 

Louis loved Geoff to pieces, too, so Hugo tolerated the judgment from the turtle for years. It wasn’t until they sent Louis away that Hugo considered getting rid of him, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

If Louis hated him now, he may never talk to him again knowing that he’d given Geoff away, or threw him as bait to escape the horde of dead coming for them. 

A tempting idea, that one. 

Ignoring the bastard turtle in favor of digging through the mini-fridge under the counter, Hugo pulls out a half-empty bottle of blackberry merlot. It's icy against his fingertips and he’s briefly glad to have had a backup generator installed down here. 

He considers briefly snatching a cigar from under there as well but doesn’t. Not in front of Isabel. 

He unscrews the cap, inhaling the sweetness of the alcohol with a watery mouth.

“You’re not serious,” she glowers at him. “Not right now.”

“Neither one of us is leaving tonight,” Hugo pours them each a glass, motioning for her to sit. “We’ll wait ‘til morning and see if they’ve cleared enough for us to gave everything we need and get to the car, then we’ll go from there.”

“And if they haven’t? You’re going to just sit there while our son is out there? I don’t care what you do, Hugh, but-”

“I said we’ll go from there,” he says pointedly. “If you go up there now, you’ll die. For now, sit down and quit making so much noise.”

She hesitates, gaze darting to the thick, metal double doors separating them from the real possibility of death. She wants to argue, Hugo can see it in the way she bites her bottom lip, but weariness gets the best of her. Sitting beside Geoff- who doesn’t fix her with his disdainful gaze- Isabel accepts the glass of wine, taking a tiny sip with a sigh. 

“This is wrong,” she murmurs.

Exhaustion shows itself in the way she leans against the counter, wine in one hand and forehead in the other. Her distraught is worse than Hugo’s ever seen. Worse than it was prior to their divorce. 

That thought’s painful enough that he downs the rest of his wine with little effort. 

Fear’s overpowering the bitterness between them and he knows it. That burning question dangling in the air, begging to be asked, and Isabel takes the bait. 

“What if something happens because we aren’t there?” Isabel murmurs into her glass, covering up the crack in her voice by clearing her throat. Hugo can see it in her eyes, the sorrow seeped in wetness, threatening to spill over with every word she speaks. “What if it is bad there and he needs us? If we stay down here, he might get hurt or trapped or- or-” 

Or killed. 

Bitten by the dead. 

Turned into one of them. 

His Louis as a walker…

“Please, please, dad! You never have to do anything for me ever again! All I want are singing lessons! I’ll even quit playing the piano if I have to! And baseball! I’ll quit everything! Please!”

“Ericson is a good school,” Hugo says slowly, “and Richard is an honorable man. He and his staff will do everything they can to keep Louis and the rest of those kids safe.”

Geoff cranks his ugly neck to look- no, glare- at Hugo as if to ask, “Do you truly believe that, you old fool?”

Hugo wants to believe it. 

The day he walked Louis through the gates of Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youth, Richard Davidson was there to welcome them. He swore to Hugo that he and his staff would do everything in their power to help Louis through this stage he found himself in… to understand what he had done that brought him there. 

“Because you get to be happy, or you get to be rich! You can’t be both!” 

“And the school is in a good area- a safe area.”

“As safe as this bunker? Do they really have the means to care for all of those children in a mess like this?” she asks. “We shouldn’t have sent him away in the first place.” 

Hugo finishes off his second glass of wine, pouring himself another as he refuses to meet Isabel’s accusatory lower. 

“Little late for that now.” 

A fist slams against the wooden bar, Isabel’s glass nearly cracking under her fixed grip. For a moment, Hugo considers crawling under the counter, knees to his chest and face hidden in his arms, hidden away from Isabel’s growing contempt for him, from the dead and the outside world, from Geoff and his judgemental, beady eyes. From the memories of the last time Louis ever looked at him as Hugo left him in the lobby of Ericson. 

He could crawl under there and pretend everything is the way it was last year before his family broke apart.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he polishes off his another glass of wine, ignoring the way Isabel shakes her head. 

 “We could’ve figured something else out,” she says. “We didn’t have to send him away like that.”

“And what would you have suggested we do instead?” he asks. “Go to family therapy? We didn’t have any other choice.”

“We could’ve not sent him to that damn school!” 

It wasn’t that easy, and she knows that. Hugo knows that. 

Mom knew that. The entirety of the family knew it when they heard. 

This argument is nothing but a mere beating of a long-dead horse at this point. 

“Ericson was the best option. They specialize in that sort of thing. Stephen said I should’ve sent him to a military school.”

Disgust crinkles her nose as she pointedly rolls her eyes, sneering, “Military school.”

“I didn’t want to send him away,” Hugo says. “But we had to.” 

“I told you that I didn’t want to, though,” Isabel stresses, “and you ignored me!”

“And if I listened to you? Then what?” he asks, pouring yet another delicious glass of merlot. “We ground him? Ruffle his hair and call him a little rascal? Forget about the divorce and get him some damn singing lessons?”

Heels tap against the cement, quick and rhythmic with every bounce of her leg. Hugo takes her glass away, downing it himself with a grunt.

“That’s all he wanted,” Isabel finally says, standing from her stool. “Why didn’t you-”

“Because,” Hugo interrupts as if that single word held all the answers needed.

“God forbid he learned to sing.”

It all seems so stupid now. The notion of Louis confessing his desire to grow up and be a real musician being the worst thing Hugo’s ever heard. Years back he was even hesitant about letting him learn to play the piano, but gave in once his mother chewed him out. 

“A talented boy his age must learn to play an instrument! And the piano is as lovely as it is classical, Hugo! If you don’t book him lessons with Sonia, I will!” 

That was the end of that conversation. His mother and her views of music were what gave Louis the idea that he could become a musician as if he could make a proper name and living for himself by singing and playing the piano. 

“Grandma said I could do it, Dad! Please? If you love me, you’ll let me take singing lessons!” 

Now it all just seems… meaningless. A waste to be so worked up over some so stupid...

“I’m leaving in the morning, with or without you,” Isabel says, tone firm and Hugo knows there’s nothing he could possibly say to change her mind. “I can’t stay here another night. I’ll go crazy.” 

Grimacing at the churn of his stomach, head becoming queasy, Hugo finishes his final glass of blackberry merlot. Geoff glares at his hand, and Hugo’s tempted to flick the turtle in his ugly eyeball.

“Getting yourself killed isn’t going to do Louis any good,” he tells Isabel, speaking slow as to not slur his words. “You’re not going alone.”

“Then help me.”

“We need to be smart about this. Going up there without a plan is a sure way of dying, and we can’t get to Louis if we’re dead.”

Hugo watches the remaining wine slosh around in bottle for a moment before sighing deep within his chest. Isabel reaches across to grip his hand, the first contact they’ve had that didn’t happen because they were trying to get away from the dead. 

“We gotta stick together,” Hugo says. “Okay?”

He looks to her finger, the wedding ring she wore for years missing. He forgot to grab it from his bedroom drawer along with his ring. There’s no time to do that now, he tells himself. If the house is safe to move through tomorrow morning, they’ll only have enough time to gather any supplies they’ll need- food, water, batteries, extra clothes, blankets- his head’s a buzz with thoughts drowning in sweet alcohol. 

“Okay.”

That night, Hugo and Isabel Sulieman slept the best they could. 

In the morning, they left the safety of their underground bunker, snuck to their parking garage, and loaded up their SUV with all their supplies. Risking everything to venture out onto the streets, they drove in hopes that they could make it out of state and towards Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youth, both with silent prayers that they would make it in time to hold their son again.

[atamascolily]

lily watches fma:b, eps. 37-40

I can only watch 2 episodes at a time because I keep having to pause and write angry screeds in a text document. I suppose this is what is called “engaging with the source material” in media studies.

Cut for extreme length and also me ranting about Hohenheim because FUCK THAT DUDE. Also, worldbuilding stuff I don’t understand.

Ed reciting the periodic table to get his mind off his boner for Winry is just perfect.

Meanwhile, Winry's nerding out over combat automail and Kimblee's just sippin' his coffee watching the whole thing

Kimblee got Winry to like him by saying he admired her parents, argghhh

Pride is revealed to be Selim Bradley and harasses Hawkeye because he's a little shit... also it conveniently allows Buccaneer's tunnel team to escape. Why is Pride simultaneously in Central AND Briggs? I guess we'll find out.

Hawkeye going home and seeing her shadow and realizing just how fucked they are is PERFECT.

Kimblee tells Ed he'll give him a Philosopher's stone if Ed helps him find Scar and Marcoh and finish the job at Briggs (i.e., kill everyone to make a stone). Ed asks--very reasonably, I might add--why Kimblee is going along with the homunculi and his answer is basically "for the lulz". (Oh, and they let him kill people instead of locking him up for war crimes.)

(although I'd argue the homunculi only let him do so when it's personally convenient; they have no qualms about keeping his ass in jail otherwise)

(also: please note kimblee ISN'T in jail for war crimes against Ishval, he's in jail because he murdered some Amestrisian guards so no one would know he has a Philosopher's Stone.)

Ed's like, "so Winry, you're a hostage for my good behvior and I might have to comnit mass murder, fyi" AT LEAST HE FINALLY FOUND A WAY TO TELL HER

love how winry forces her way into the convoy and kimblee just goes with it because he's too busy to argue.

(meanwhile, the end credits still have her at the atelier in Rush Valley, lol)

Yoki's flashback in the 1920s film style is HILARIOUS (if biased) account

Scar and Kimblee face off. I'm reminded of the 2003 anime where iirc Scar sacrifices himself to utterly destroy Kimblee halfway through. no such luck here.

I'm still not happy that Scar killed Winry's parents in this version. It was much more interesting when it was the Amestrisian military--specifically, Roy Mustang, one of the so-called good guys.

(It's not that it was morally okay for Scar to kill the doctors who saved his life--or anyone--just because of their race but it's a whole 'nother ballgame when the murder cover-up for a military dictatorship and the perpetrator is a character the audience has come to root for vs. misguided revenge)

What IS interesting here is Scar confronting Miles, asking him how he can serve in the same institution that killed his family. Miles says he's trying to change minds from the inside; Scar is highly skeptical but claims to be glad there are people like Miles in this world (who aren't so consumed by hatred and grief that they can do that kind of work, instead of becoming a vigilante).

one of Miles' troopers has a backpack that's a phone. Okay... WHAT? I guess if they have automail they can have extremely bulk cellphones, but... I don't understand the tech in this world.

brief detour for Al to lecture the chimera prisoners, okay

Yoki actually has a good idea for once!

I don't understand the chimeras saying they want their bodies back - it seems like they can shift from human to their other form and back (they do it a few minutes later) so... I get that they've been experimented upon and it's horrible, but they're not quite in the same desperate straits as Al, who doesn't have a body at all, or Nina Tucker *sob*. Or am I missing something obvious here??

...okay, I think they were moved to DIFFERENT human bodies than their original forms? It's kind of unclear from context.  

Just as I was admiring Winry's piercings for the bajillionth time, a random dude tells her they'll cause frostbite so she takes them out and gives them to Ed as a token. And probably also so Kimblee will suspect the ruse later if/when he notices that detail.

Scar's like, "man, why'd I have to kill the FAMOUS doctors, sigh"

Al has a vision of his body and it's SO FREAKING CREEPY, YO (I like the detail that his nails are really long)

Cut to Father playing with little mini versions of Ed and Al on a transmutation circle in his lair OH YEAH THAT'S CREEPY - he needs 5 people to complete the circle. Ed, Al, and Hohenheim are each little skull-people, Izumi is "a possibility," and that leaves one more... probably Roy.

I love Hawkeye and Roy's verbal codes, Roy hitting on Olivier, Olivier straight up admitting to Bradley she offed Raven, Roy's apparent shift into the flower business, etc, etc.

TIME FOR A FLASHBACK.FINALLY SOME EXPLANATORY BACKSTORY.

Okay, so we meet Slave 23 in an alchemy lab - his master used his blood to make a creepy blob in a flask that is talking to him and names said slave "Van Hohenheim" (because he didn't want to be "Theophrastus Bombastus", lol.) There's a time skip and Hohenheim becomes a skilled apprentice alchemist thanks to the blob's interference and education.

Note: I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS ABOUT ALL OF THIS. Also, WHY.

(but let's be real, I am distracted by the fact that young!Hohenheim, like old!Hohenheim, is extremely hot.)

The King of Xerxes summons the blob to ask it about immortality. I can already tell this is going to end well.

The blob tells the King the secret - cut to laborers digging a giant circular "irrigation canal". also, people start dying in coordinated attacks at specific geographic points just like in amestris.

I still don't understand how this works, though. In the 03 version, you just need a bunch of people to die all at once aftermaking a few preparations. It was city-scale, not country-scale.

also apparently, there's been a time skip because Hohenheim is significantly older than before (his job is to carry the blob in its flask around, I guess?). He's so excited about the immortality thing yet seems to have NO IDEA what it entails.

The blob made the actual center of the circle where Hohenheim was standing so everyone else dies. I'm not sure how that works because it's only a few meters off--is it really that precise?--but okay, whatever, sure.

Also, the blob regards Hohenheim as "blood kin" because it was made from his blood and... it's not WRONG.

the gate opens, the flask is shattered, Hohenheim is now immortal, and everyone in Xerxes is dead, and... Hohenheim was totally an innocent bystander who just HAPPENED to be caught up in it all?

not gonna lie: I'm not thrilled about this development.

I preferred the 03 version where Hohenheim was actively a bodysnatching jackass who decided to DO BETTER BY NOT DOING THAT. somehow the fact that he ends up immortal without trying here just sticks in my craw.

oh, no, but this means that HE KNOWS EVERYONE IN HIS PHILOSOPHER'S STONE PERSONALLY, DOESN'T HE? AHHHHHH

Father takes on Hohenheim's human form because they have the same blood and it's convenient?(also:hot, though I doubt the blob is interested in sex appeal.)

Father: Isn't it great? immortality, amirite? Hohenheim: *through gritted teeth* Thanks, I hate it.

Father and Hohenheim each got half of Xerxes' population, aka half the power.

turns out this was all a dream-flashback and Hohenheim is actually asleep on a train in the present and Izumi wakes him up.

have they met before? signs point to no because Hohenheim doesn't seem to know her. I'd ask how Izumi recognized him, but Hoheheim looks JUST LIKE ED so it's not like it's *hard*.

most awkward parent-teacher conference ever? but actually izumi starts coughing up blood and Hohenheim realizes she's performed human transmutation and opened a gate and uses alchemy to help her.

he can't restore the lost organs (I'm not sure WHY not - he has a philosopher's stone, that's like the whole point) but it helps.

AND THEN HE JUST COMES OUT AND SAYS HE'S A PHILOSOPHER'S STONE IN HUMAN FORM, ARRGGHH, WHYYYYYY, I don't get why he can't just fix her!!

sig decks hohenheim and I'm so thrilled, even if it doesn't actually take. THANK YOU SIG, I LOVE U.

Also: if Hohenheim had stuck around, he could have healed Trisha and she probably wouldn't have died and his sons would never have lost their bodies trying to bring her back, so FUCK YOU HOHENHEIM, THIS IS LITERALLY ALL YOUR FAULT. (And apparently, the homunculi are too, at least indirectly). FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU.

[kurtty-drabbles]

The Omen au part 19

N/A: Merciful short, if we are lucky.

@djinmer4 @dannybagpipesarecalling @bamfoftheundead

How to summon Pheonix? Shouldn´t be a daunting task as Pheonix likes the attention, and for everyone sake, no one here will make jokes about Pheonix being a celebrity who hogs all the social media, but for once, contact Pheonix is being harder than Dr Strange hope for.

"Didn´t your Ex told you this is a bad idea?" Agatha spoke with a bit condescending tone as Dr Strange still looks at the sacred scrolls given by the Shiars (a token present for his help) and finally looks at Agatha who is drinking her tea and not giving much thought about the stereotypes of her nation. She´s a British woman through and through, but, she can be a cliche from times to times.

"Yes, she did...but...what can kill an antichrist?" is a question that plagues his mind from time to time relentless. And again, Agatha is giving more importance to her tea than Dr Strange´s plight.

"You made a reasonable good tea, Dr Strange, so, I´ll tell you something, pay attention my good and stupid Dr" and she offers a ghost of a smile. "Zaorva is the one who crafts antichrists as well IT, if you are to call help from the Outer Gods...why not go to Arkham or to the endless garden?" and this question makes the man pale and gulps loudly.

"Then...how..."

"Instead of thinking about how to kill, think about how to make sure his rule won´t be our ending"

"....I never thought about that"

"Yes, because you like to sleep with your students, by the way, how was Meghan?" she looks to her right to see a girl with pink hair and butterfly wings and wearing a sheet over her body. "How was your night? Do you eat anything?"

Dr Strange and Pixie are left speechless as their so secret rendezvous is no longer a secret.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

If you´re to ask Rogue about her family, if she ever wanted a little brother, it would be hard to question to make as she still recalls her blood family. Her mother, from blood and still has her face burned in Rogue´s mind, used to be a hippie who believed in the elder Gods and Outer Gods. Her mother trades a mortal life for ascension in the expanse of Rogue herself.

She knows, privately and she meant to keep like that, she has a brother named Fabian Cortez, a man who Rogue never will want to associate with in any form(in fact, she does not react to this name at all) and maybe, if Rogue can be sincere, she was happy to be the only child of Mystique and Destiny.

However, when Mystique arrived pregnantly and mumbling something about deals and demons, feverishly, and did deliver Michael Darkholme. "He´ll be the king of the nation...But the father will never see him. He can´t. He won´t" and those words still plague in her mind. And she remembers how it did make sense to put Michael in the attic because her mother, her real mother, told her so.

"Cherrie?" Remy asked as Rogue is spacing out too much. She isn´t complaining about Gambit´s food. "Are you ok?"

"No, I´m not sure if I was cut out to be a bigger sister to anyone" Rogue confessed and Gambit does not judge, well, he can´t judge as he was never a brother to anyone. Ok, that´s a lie Laura and Jubilee certainly seem him as a bother figure.

Still, the point remains, Gambit was adopted into a thieving guild and was the only child there.

"Well, I doubt that I think you´re just a person who made a mistake, but, really...I think every big brother or big sister figure makes mistakes too...look at Scott and Alex" Gambit concludes and Rogue has a small smile now, and for this small moment, is enough for Gambit.

His cellphone rings. And he arches an eyebrow at the message. "Is Ororo, she is cancelling the visit...something bad happened, someone, kidnap a student ...one named Kitty Pryde" and this provoke a reaction on Rogue.

"Wait? Kitty?"

"You know her?"

"She may as well be the only friend my brother has. Gambit, I´ll help"

"Well, guess we´ll then"

___________________________________________________________________________________________

Kitty tries to break off the chains and still calls for Rogue as dread increases in her being since Rogue is not answering. "Ok, I need to use a spell" and she concentrates enough to gather her mana and conjure a spell. Thanks to Scarlet Witch lessons, Kitty manages to break free of her chains.

Kitty walks towards Rogue, but, as she walks she notices the distance between Rogue and herself are increased abnormally. "Ok, this is not a mere warehouse." and she stops. Halting on her tracks as she watches the place.

"What´s the last thing I remember before waking up here?!" Kitty closes her eyes and remembers going to sleep, remembers someone calling for her and ...a gap in her memories. "This is not real" Kitty is not thrilled with such discovery, but, one step at the time. "Am I a victim of astral projection?"

________________________________________________________________________________________

Prof X is one of the best telepaths in the world or maybe that´s what he thought so, as for doing this little test, Prof X needed to get help from Emma Frost(it was a call from Jean Grey that allow the woman to even hear him out and yes, Jean is not thrilled either) and a deal was made.

"I hope you understand Charles...this is a stupid plan and I´m only helping because Jean here...asked me for" and she has that smile that would grant a punch from Jean. Prof X, if everything went alright, promised himself to thank Jean...humiliate herself (her pride) to get Emma on his side is ...not unappreciated.

"Duly noted" Prof X states coldly as both are using their powers to trick Kitty Pryde and is not an easier task as her mind is really strong and is already figuring out.

"Aside from getting Jean to beg, I hope you keep your side of the deal" and again, Prof X agrees coldly. "By the way, why me? Why not your precious Jean Grey?"

"Because you lead the death of some of your students and Jean really does not want to do this"

Emma Frost didn´t like this reply and maybe this was the cause for the illusion to break or maybe Kitty Pryde´s mind is way stronger than Emma predicted, either way, their little test has the count numbers now.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

Micahel Darkholme is with a group to retrieve Kitty. From what Ororo told them, Kitty is in dark place(the Kenyan woman shiver for a moment, briefly as it is, because she thought in a tight spot and she still fearing small places) and needs help. Michael has nothing against Storm, but, at the instant, Michael chooses to ignore her orders for one reason.

"Is this all a fucking test?" Michael asked to no one and the team is looking at him as if he´s insane. Logan has his claws ready (in his mind, all prolly of Mystique is evil) Ororo does not see what the blue boy meant by that and the rest is equally confused.

"I know where Kitty is...Don´t worry Storm, Kitty is not in a small place, Prof X couldn´t place her in a small place" Michael state and with a snap of his fingers, the team is where Prof X and Emma Frost are with a Kitty Pryde trying to wake up (wincing here and there and even moving her fingers. Her mind is too strong) and the team is not seeing this image with kind eyes.

"Chuck, what the hell is this? Why is this bimbo here?" Logan asked and Emma Frost is done being insulted and uses her powers on Logan and really, Logan has no ammunition against Emma Frost.

"Logan!" Ororo states and tries to use her powers on Emma Frost, but, the woman is falling on the ground as Charles is too. She looks next to her and sees Michael controlling them. "Michael, what are you doing?"

"Ororo, I´m saving Kitty. That´s what I´m doing" He explains as if is the easier thing in the world and with another snap, the secret room is gone as Kitty is almost waking up. "He made a test to see if I´m evil...well, I think he´s evil...so I should punish him, right?"

And Ororo wants to tell him no, don´t hurt Prof X but in a chose between Prof X and Logan...Storm pick Logan who is slowly coming to his conscious. The man is blabbing (it seems to still have a sense of who he is) and asking if this is heaven. "Sure, you are romantic when you almost die" She speaks wondering if that was the right choice because after this...there´s no more Prof X.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

Doom is more than happy when he arrives in the school of the X-men to see the place half-destroyed (oh, it was calculated, not an accident. His magic grows stronger each day) and the X-men are disorientated, oh, without a leader...good.

Doom is not surprised to see Michael holding an already waken Kitty Pryde and is not exactly happy with the X-men, and Doom noticed, to his happiness, the girl isn´t happy either. Good. It will further his plans.

"I know who you are, Doom...what do you want?"

"I want to help you, antichrist...to help you to achieve what you want, to give you a safer environment, no test, no lies...Latveria would be more than happy to offer a home for you" and his eyes trail to Kitty "and to your friend too"

Terry is not happy with this. She´s scream about and even goes to Kitty begging for her to not go, but, maybe it was the illusion Emma Frost put on her or maybe it was the fact Prof X was using her as a bait, whatever the case may be, Kitty only shakes her head at her mother and looks at Michael.

"Tell us more about Latveria"

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Rogue arrives at the mansion to see Doom(who doesn´t know King Victor Von Doom?) talking with two teens and an older woman. One is blue with golden eyes and the other is a girl with chestnut hair. And Rogue was there when they vanish in bright light.

"WHAT HAPPENED?" Rogue asked and someone explains in a few words.

"Doom. Is what happened"

[victorianoir]

The Detective and the ManFatale, Part 4

Onward!!!! Part 4!!! The end of the ManFatale arc!!!! If you’re like “WTF is this?” you can read all of it by going to my MASTERPOST for The Detective and the Tech Guy. If you want to read this chapter on fanfiction.net, you can do that by clicking >THIS<.

Enjoy!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He'd just had to steal a parking spot from a little old lady who was just barely able to see over her steering wheel, and he felt bad about that, he really did. But it meant he was able to catch up to Sarah fast enough to be able to see her enter the office building she'd told him about earlier.

Just like she'd said, the building was off of Melrose, in SoHo. But he didn't follow her inside. Instead, he moved behind a short palm that was planted in a courtyard off to the side, complete with benches and planters. He leaned against the trunk of it and stared at the entrance.

He was old hat at this now, after a few days of tailing that asshole Fake Cartwright. Robbie. Pfft.

Maybe tailing his girlfriend while she was working wasn't the greatest thing he'd ever done in their relationship, granted. And she would probably be so mad at him if she knew he'd gotten in his car and followed her as best he could without getting too close, knowing she was way too smart to let herself be followed as closely as he wanted to. He'd nearly lost her a few times even, but he'd gotten back on track eventually, not wanting to be directly in her line of sight because she was a damn detective and she knew what his damn car looked like.

But it scared him to death hearing her yell, the dial tone…Seeing those papers scattered over the floor as though she'd had the file in her hand when Not-Cartwright had broken in, grabbed her, and yanked her out. God, the things he'd been unable to keep himself from imagining on the way there.

And then when he saw she was safe, when he held her in his arms, having to watch her leave again to go someplace potentially dangerous, and with no cell phone, no way to contact him, or more importantly, the police. That mean Detective Casey guy. God, that guy was a jerk. But at least he'd be able to back Sarah up if she called him, if she was in danger.

So Chuck had done the only thing he could think of to make sure she was okay. He'd followed her. He did have a cellphone. And a vested interest in her safety, damn it.

And he was going to watch those doors like a hawk. If this Jerald Brown fellow wasn't the upstanding tech guru Chuck had always figured he was in spite of never meeting him face to face, Chuck would take him down himself. He'd played flag football in junior high P.E. He knew what he was about.

He waited, waited…waited some more…

Until he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. He ducked back behind the palm tree as best he could and watched as the man he now knew wasn't Robert Cartwright strolled up the sidewalk towards the building, in his off-white suit, pale pink tie, suede shoes. A chill went through Chuck as the man stopped and took his sunglasses off, peering up at the very same building Sarah had just gone into to meet the man this imposter hired her to investigate.

His phone was in his hand immediately. He didn't have a direct line to Detective John Casey, but all he had to do was press three numbers.

There was no reason why this man should know what was happening in there. There was no reason why this man should know about this building in the first place, unless…well, unless he knew. Had he followed Sarah, too? Or had he followed Brown?

How did he know?

Oh God. God, Sarah didn't have her cellphone. And now he was going up the steps. If Chuck followed him, he wouldn't be able to stop him. This man was a seasoned criminal and possibly a killer. He definitely had a weapon.

God, he was opening the door.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

"There's a woman being attacked inside of an office. A man went in there and he's attacking her. He has a weapon." He gave the address, told the operator she needed to hurry, and he hung up again.

It killed him, absolutely destroyed him, to move away from the building. He felt like he was dying as he spun on his heel and sprinted back to his car. He was leaving her in there, alone, and he was so terrified he was on the verge of a breakdown. He was angry with himself, sick with himself, and still he got into his car, turned it on, and with only a half glance back at the building his girlfriend was currently inside of with an angry, potentially murderous conman, he sped away from her.

God, he hoped he was doing the right thing. He hoped to any deity that was listening that he was doing the right thing.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Sarah's hand twitched automatically, ready to draw and put this imposter on the ground with a hole in his chest, but before she could do anything else, there was a loud bang and the arm of her chair exploded in splinters.

She yelped and fell out of the chair onto the floor, holding her hands up, her life having just flashed before her eyes.

That had been an extremely precise shot, not meant to hurt her…a warning that he would hurt her if she gave him any sort of reason to. He'd just missed her but she had scratches on her wrist and the back of her hand from the splintered wood exploding next to her.

"Stand up, kick your gun over here, Miss Walker," he demanded coolly, the South African accent gone. His American accent sounded practiced, too, however. "And then keep your hands in the air. You move wrong and I'll shoot you between the eyes. I've got nothing to lose now. Don't think I won't shoot a pretty girl…"

Sarah stood up and carefully went into her holster, pulling her gun out, setting it on the ground and sliding it across the tile floor to the conman.

"You stand up, too, ya fat fuck," the imposter said to Brown, reaching behind him to shut the door as much as he could with how he'd broken the handle getting in.

The private investigator and ex-Pinkerton detective felt anger start to rise inside of her. Not only did this fucker take a shot at her, he was going around calling good men 'fat fucks' too? She clenched her jaw, unable to help herself.

"You think you're a big boy now that you have that gun pointed at us," she said, keeping her hands up. But God she could feel that knife at her hip, and the ones strapped to her thigh and her fingers itched for them. But the only safe thing to do was to throw verbal barbs at him, so she kept going. "You can insult Mr. Brown when you've got a gun trained on 'im, but I bet just a few days ago, you were kissing his ass, weren't you?"

"Who the hell do you think you are, bitch?" She narrowed her eyes dangerously. "Sarah Walker, private investigator. Without those legs, you'd be working at an Abercrombie & Fitch spraying perfume at teenagers."

She inwardly smirked. He might be a dangerous conman, and a smart enough criminal to have gotten away with his ruse for this long, but he hadn't done his homework apparently. He had no idea she'd been a Pinkerton detective. He had no idea whom he was dealing with.

"You picked the wrong P.I. to hire, Cartwright," Brown said, his voice a little shaky as he stood behind her, still at his wife's desk. "She's not just good at her job, she has a moral compass, and a nose for sniffing out criminal lowlifes."

"I did all right, didn't I? Who's standing here with the gun?"

"What are you gonna do?" Brown asked, seeming to gain a bit more confidence now. "Kill us?"

"Yes, actually. I am. Nobody knows we're here." That was true, Sarah thought miserably. Chuck only knew that she'd gone to an office building in SoHo off of Melrose. There were a handful of them. And he'd have no way of knowing if something bad was happening to her. God, she wished so hard for his paranoia, his idiotic jealous paranoia, that worried crease he'd had between his eyebrows…Please, Chuck… Maybe she could telepathically project terror at him and he'd feel something. They were close enough, emotionally bonded, weren't they? She'd never been so connected to anyone else in her entire life. Wasn't that how that weird crap worked?

Please, please, please, Chuck…

"What did you do with Cartwright?" she asked. If she could just get him talking, she could stall whatever it was he meant to do with them.

"I didn't touch the rat bastard. It wasn't me," he groused. "Wish it had been. He was a lousy piece of shit by all accounts, swimming in his money, an asshole to everyone, greedy."

"So he is dead, then. Who did it if it wasn't you?"

"He's dead. There was a storm, destroyed his boat probably. Found some wreckage where I was in Point d'Esny. Also found his body. Nobody else was on the beach so I took everything I could carry, took his body out onto the water, and dropped it with a bag of sand. Got rid of his boat altogether. Wasn't until a few days later I found out he was a Cape Town big shot. But he was a recluse, too. Nobody ever really saw him much at all. Perfect opportunity for me." He shrugged, and Sarah watched for any opportunity she might have to catch him off guard, but this obviously wasn't the first time he'd held a gun on someone. And she was sure this wouldn't be the first time he'd killed either…if it turned out he got that far.

And oh God, what would she do if he started shooting to kill?

"How did you even pull this off?" Brown asked.

"Easy. When the guy was alive and had less dead-bloat than he had when I found 'im, we looked pretty similar I guess. His IDs all worked long enough for me to forge new ones. Nobody asked any questions when Robert Cartwright showed up in Los Angeles for business. The checks all worked, the bank tellers all let me walk right in, the credit cards worked. I've made a fortune off of this guy, all because he was a shitty sailor."

He kissed the tips of his fingers.

"You're deplorable," Sarah said.

"Mmhmm. Deplorable enough to kill you two so I can get away with it all."

Brown cursed. "You aren't getting away with a damn thing!"

"I am. I've already destroyed any records that I was ever here. I've sold most of his African possessions, withdrawn every last cent I could from the banks. After I'm gone, they'll probably file a missing persons report." He chuckled and grinned a now twisted version of Alain Delon's smile. She wished she could apologize to the French actor for ever thinking he was similar.

This asshole wished…

ManFatale, Chuck had called him near the beginning of this damn job. She'd made fun of him then, but now she saw just how right he was. There was a good chance she was dying here today, in this office with the knitted pillows. Underestimating this bastard was her downfall.

"You don't think they'll dog your steps no matter where you go?" she asked then, starting to let anger overtake her fear. She liked anger better. It was better than giving in to despair, despair that she'd seen Chuck for the last time not an hour ago, climbing into his fuel-efficient car, after trying to make her take his phone. Maybe if she'd taken it, she could've secretly hit the emergency button on it.

What was he going to do?

What would he do if she died here today?

Oh, God…

No. Anger. Anger was better.

"I've covered my tracks."

"You haven't covered shit. The FBI, the CIA, the NSA, they've all got guys who find pieces of shit like you every single day. You aren't getting away it with no matter what you do to us," she hissed through her teeth.

The imposter angled his gun down suddenly and shot, sending a bullet clattering into the ground at her feet. She screamed and clasped her hands to her mouth, jumping away. He raised the gun and shot again, hitting the desk right next to her hip and she fell to the side, onto the floor. Brown knelt down behind her, a protective move, but this time the bullet that came from the imposter's gun was true.

Brown hit the tile hard, a hole in his shoulder as he cried out in pain.

Holy shit!

Now there was fear inside of her. Abject fear as she acted fast, grabbing Brown's hand and making him press it against his wound. "Just hold it…press down, you'll be okay…"

"Get up," the imposter growled at her, stepping closer. She ignored him as she tried to help the injured man. "I said get up!" he yelled this time, grabbing her by her hair and yanking her to her feet.

She heard sirens in the distance and she knew as his eyes darted to the side in momentary worry that this was her one and only chance to get herself and Jerald Brown out of here alive.

Sarah Walker, P.I. struck fast. She swung her left arm around, clamped her fingers around his wrist and pushed the gun away from her temple where he'd been holding it. He pulled the trigger, breaking the window behind her, and the sound of it startled him enough that she was able to bring her knee up and back and slam her heel right between his legs.

He yelled in pain as she snapped the arm that had the gun down across her knee, hearing the crack of his bone breaking and the clatter of the gun hitting the floor. She kicked it away as he fell hard onto his back and she crawled onto him, slamming her fist down into his face, over and over and over and over again until he put his non-injured arm up and begged her to stop.

Just then the door burst right off of its hinges, police officers racing inside.

"GET ON THE GROUND!" an LAPD officer barked, and in spite of the fact that he might not be talking to her, she crawled down onto her knees and put her hands behind her head. She didn't know who or what had brought the police here but she wasn't about to be shot for trying to explain right away when they were attempting to take control of the situation.

Once the yelling stopped and the police had clambered over to Brown who was still conscious but whimpering, an officer grabbed her by her arm and hoisted her up. "My name is Sarah Walker, private investigator. That man broke in while I was in a meeting with Mr. Brown and held a gun on us. He shot him. Tried to…tried to shoot me, too." She was breathless, and she realized that in spite of being in scenarios with guns, bombs, and other terrifying situations, this had been one of the closest shaves she'd had.

And she had a lot more to lose this time.

She had to press her lips together and blink a few times to keep the rush of terrified tears at bay.

"All right, miss. Just come over here and sit in this chair. Your name again…?"

"Sarah Walker," she murmured, trying to take deep breaths. "I own Walker Investigative Enterprises. I've-I've got a P.I. license."

The two officers exchanged flat looks. "A P.I., huh?"

This had been too traumatic for her to find the willpower to give them dirty looks for that.

"Get an ambulance here, we've got two men in need of medical attention," one of the cops said into their walky-talky. "One gunshot wound. Another with abrasions to the face, broken arm."

Sarah thought about how badly she wished she could've given him more abrasions to the face, and she thought maybe she was starting to feel more like herself now that the danger had abated. Though her ear was ringing bad from that gun going off so close to it.

"You're Sarah Walker, that's Jerald Brown…and who is this guy?" The cop gestured to Fake Cartwright.

Paramedics rushed in then, tending to Brown first and getting him lifted onto a gurney.

"A criminal," Sarah said. "If you look up Robert Cartwright, you'd find this man's picture. But he-he isn't Robert Cartwright."

"Huh?"

She explained the situation to them for the next three minutes, accepting the strong coffee one of them gave her, and the blanket the other one wrapped around her shoulders. She didn't know when she'd begun to shiver. And it wasn't from the cold.

As she realized she was just barely keeping from slipping into shock, suddenly there was a shuffling of people at the door and Detective John Casey was there, his hulking figure taking up the entire doorway practically. "Whatever she said about him, it's true," he said, pointing over her shoulder. "Cartwright's an imposter." He pulled his badge out as he walked into the room and flashed it at the officers. "I'll handle the questioning from here, officers."

They both nodded and moved away.

And that was when she looked up to see Chuck step out from behind the detective, his eyes finding her immediately.

"Sarah…"

"Chuck!"

She left the coffee and the blanket behind, surging to her feet just in time for his body to crash into hers, his arms so strong as they folded her up against him, so warm and safe and everything she'd needed the moment this had all ended.

Sarah felt her boyfriend's lips against her hair, and then her temple, and her cheek, and he just held her so tight. She didn't ever want to let go. Ever.

And she heard him curse, his hand coming up to brush over her hair. "Are you okay?" he asked finally. "Did he hurt you? I'll kill him."

"Maybe not the smartest thing to say in front of the LAPD, idiot," Casey grumbled from where he was standing over Chuck's shoulder.

She ignored him, though, burying her face in Chuck's neck and letting herself cry just a little. She'd been so scared she'd never see him again. So scared she'd never feel this. Or eat one of his waffles he made that were never thick enough or cooked as much as she wanted them to be because he didn't put enough batter in, and didn't leave it in the iron long enough. Because he was too impatient, like a little boy.

"I'm okay," she gasped out, trying to hold back still and not doing a great job of it. "I'm okay. I love you."

"I love you, too," he said immediately, holding her even tighter, pressing his lips against her temple and keeping them there.

She finally pulled back, letting him cup her face and kiss her properly, and then he kissed the remnants of the few tears she'd shed away. "What—How?" she asked.

"I…" He winced. "I was worried. Super, super worried. I had this weird feeling in my gut letting you drive off to this meeting with no cell phone or anything. So I…gah, I followed you. I know you—you probably…" He huffed at her impatient look. "You're right. Let's table that. I was waiting outside, 'cause I'm your man and I wanted to have your back in case things got cray. But then while I was waiting, I saw that fake-ass mother fucker walk up with his cheesy as hell B-List sunglasses and that shit-eating smirk, and I knew right away that you were in trouble." A smile began to grow on her face as she watched him start to get riled up now as he told his story. "I was going to run after him and strangle him or roundhouse kick him in the jaw or somethin' but then I figured I'd most likely get shot and you'd never forgive me if that happened. So I called 9-1-1 instead and got in my car to come find Cas—Casey—Detective Casey." He cleared his throat at the glare the older man sent him.

"You're insane," she breathed, swallowing another sob and throwing her arms around his neck, letting him lift her enough that her feet were dangling a few inches off the floor, and they stayed like that for long enough that Casey finally cleared his throat.

Chuck set her down and she resisted the urge to kiss him again, longing in her gaze as she peered up at him for a moment…And then she turned to John Casey and nodded.

"Yeah, well…S'a miracle we even got here when we did what with this moron driving like a fuckin' grandma."

"What?!" Chuck spun on his heels to face the LAPD detective. "That's not even true! I was going fast! Things were whizzing past my window!" He let go of her arm with one hand and mimicked swishing his hand back and forth past his head manically.

"Right. Sure. Walker, I'm gonna need you at the station. Your secretary here only gave me the highlights. He can't talk and drive at the same time." Casey turned and headed for the door.

"Are you serious right now?" Chuck asked, his pitch getting a bit higher. "Secretary? How many times do I—?" They both began to follow after him then, Sarah's fist twisted in Chuck's sleeve, pulling him along. "Oh. He's messing with me, isn't he?"

She heard the amused grunt from the cop as he pressed the button to call the elevator, and she saw the small smirk on his face. It made her feel so glad to be alive.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXO

It had only taken twenty minutes for Detective Casey to eject Chuck from the room where he'd taken them for questioning. She'd had to watch as he interrupted one final time—"Sarah, tell him about…"—then Casey's patience, which had been wearing thin already no doubt, snapped. He stood up, grabbed Chuck by his arm, and escorted him out of the room, shutting the door in his face.

She'd had to smirk inwardly at the cute, offended sounds of confusion that her boyfriend made until he was locked out on the other side of the door where he could no longer interrupt.

Casey'd finally sat down across from her again, and she'd told him every last detail she could, even letting him have the files she'd kept in her briefcase that she'd had during the meeting with Brown, in case he'd needed convincing.

"So what made you so sure of Jerald Brown that you ended up focusing most of your efforts on investigating your client, rather than investigating the guy he was paying you to investigate?" Casey asked, forty-five minutes into their meeting.

"Part of it was the fact that I spent three days tailing him, going through his background, his financial records, combing through his personal life, and I'd found absolutely nothing to make me think he was anything other than a good businessman, and a good man in general. Not that he was without faults, but none of it was illegal or reprehensible. No illicit affairs, no fraud, nothing untoward." She shrugged.

"And the other part?"

"Chuck insisted he was a commendable man."

Casey scoffed. "You took him at his word?"

"I always do," she said, holding her chin high. "He knows who is who in his own industry, and he's a commendable man himself."

"Don't get defensive, Walker."

"I did my homework. And on the other side, I had this guy who, for all intents and purposes, was very smooth, seemed to know just what to say to every question or comment I had during our meetings, and…this was the key…the more time I spent in these meetings with who I thought was Robert Cartwright, the more I got the feeling he wanted me to find something wrong."

Casey grunted, thunking a pen against his chin a few times, thoughtfully. Then he narrowed his eyes. "I get where you're going. Instead of wanting you to just check and make sure this potential future business associate was on the level, and being relieved when you kept coming back with confirmation that he was, Cartwright seemed like he was digging for some dirt on him instead."

"Exactly. It was sneaky. And it made me super suspicious."

"Hmng," Casey tossed the pen on the table and pushed his chair back. "Don't blame ya. That was pretty good work, Detective. Don't take this the wrong way," he started, which was always a stellar way for another person to start a statement, she thought wryly, "but I'm curious as to why ya didn't just take the money and let this lie."

Sarah crossed her arms and stood up from her chair, nibbling on her bottom lip. "I'm not that kind of P.I., Detective Casey. I want to make a living off of this P.I. business I'm building, but not at the expense of innocent people, and not to aid and abet criminals. I'm operating on the right side of the law."

"So no adultery cases, huh?" He grinned a bit lecherously and she glared at him.

"If someone comes in offering me the right amount of money to try to catch their partner with someone else, depending on the person and the case, I might accept. But what business is that of yours?"

"It ain't. Lighten up. Yeesh." He held his hands up defensively, one of the gestures that infuriated her the most when men did it at her.

"Is that all you need from me?"

"Yeah. But make sure to stick around for a week or so while we work on this case. We may need the FBI in on this if he's committed crimes like this before, and they'll be bringing the South African and Cape Town authorities in, I'm sure."

"I will," she said, getting up and walking towards the door. "Oh. Here." She came back and set all of the work she'd done down on his desk. "I'm sure you folks'll need this." He deserved the snarky smirk she sent him, and the look on his face told him he probably knew he deserved it, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud ever in a million years.

"Thanks. And uh…make sure you take care of that hand. Don't think I didn't see you trying to hide the scratches. Was that his face that gave you those?"

She looked down at the scratches on the back of her hand, and now on her knuckles from his face, just as Casey surmised. "Yes and no. His face, but also, he shot at the arm of the chair where I'd just been and the wood sort of exploded and caught me."

Casey winced. "You gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine. Just a little home first aid is required. Nothing deep."

"Good." There was silence between them then as she nodded and went for the door. "Walker."

She stopped and looked at him over her shoulder, her hand on the doorknob. "Yeah?"

"We've got officers watchin' him now where he was admitted to the hospital, and when they've set that arm and gotten his face fixed up," she noticed a particular thread of pleasure in his smirk at that, "they're takin' him to his own cell here where I'll question him personally while we wait for FBI to send someone. That is to say…you did some damn fine work."

She smiled. "Thanks. Oh. Did Jerald Brown…?"

"He's gonna be fine. I'll email you where they took 'im if you want to visit tomorrow. He'll be kept at the hospital for a few days."

"Good. And yes. Please do. Thanks."

He nodded and she stepped out of the room, finding Chuck sitting a bit dejectedly in what she thought might be a perp chair at the end of someone's desk. Thankfully, whoever's desk it was seemed to be gone for the day.

She gestured for him to followed her with a flick of her head and a smile when he lifted his chin from his chest and met her eyes.

And she clung to him as best she could while still being able to walk to the elevator.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

She was quiet the whole ride back to her apartment, curled up in his passenger seat, having kicked her heels off and pulled her legs against her chest, her forehead leaning against the window as she gazed out on the late afternoon street.

And the sun had finally set, the sky still light out but darkening by the time he pulled into a parking spot in her apartment complex. They'd left her car in free street parking where she'd left it before her meeting with Brown a few hours earlier and they'd get it later, tomorrow most likely. She hadn't seemed as worried about it as she was about finally going home, so he'd promptly driven her from the police station to her place with no stops in between.

Now they sat in the comfortable warmth of his car, the engine off, silence permeating…

Until Sarah turned to look at him, smiling softly, and then she reached out and took his hand, not looking away for even a moment as she breathed a quiet, "Will you stay with me?"

He felt everything inside of him crumbling and never in his entire life had he ever wanted to protect anything or anyone as much as he wanted to protect Sarah Walker. Not trusting his voice, still shaken up from what had nearly happened, he nodded vigorously instead, and she smiled a bit harder.

They got out and headed up to her apartment, his arm around her shoulders the whole way, and he used his key to let them in, turning on the lights for her as she tossed her purse onto the entryway table and kicked off her heels again, shrugging her jacket off.

It was then that he saw her hand. There were bloody marks on the back of it, cuts on her wrist, and red welts with dried blood and most likely bruising underneath on her knuckles.

Nothing else mattered as he made a beeline for her and gently picked up her arm, cradling her hand and wrist in his comforting grip. "Sarah…"

"I know, I know…but it's fine. I've had worse."

"You've let this go for hours."

"I've had worse, Chuck. It's okay. I'll just ice it—"

He shook his head vehemently and pulled her through her apartment to the bathroom. "You have first aid?"

"You know where it is from where you burned yourself on the coffee pot."

"Oh…oh yeah. Um…remind me, though."

Seeing blood on her hand, her own blood, knowing she'd been hurt, knowing she could have been worse than hurt, was starting to catch up to him suddenly. And he was trying so hard not to let her see. He didn't want her thinking he was going to be a basket case about her chosen profession. That every little cut she got made him crazy and sick with worry. But this had felt like a big deal. A really big deal. And he had no idea what would've happened if the police hadn't shown up, if he hadn't called them.

"Hey," she breathed suddenly, and he cursed himself a little, knowing he'd let it all show on his face anyway. "Hey, look at me." She cupped his face and forced his gaze to hers. Her blue eyes reassured him immediately and he had to resist the urge to melt into her, hold onto her for dear life. "Chuck, are you spiraling because of this?" she asked, presenting her injured hand to him.

He nodded, putting his hands on her hips to keep himself steady.

Her good hand stroked his jaw and his eyelids fluttered. "Please don't. I'm okay."

"Help me maybe not spiral by telling me where that first aid kit is and I can clean you up a bit."

"It's right here, in the cupboard under this drawer." She shifted to bump her hip against the drawer she was talking about. "But…before you do that, would you mind if I took a shower?"

He shook his head and leaned in to kiss her on the forehead, a slow, long kiss. He understood the request at a deeper level, but he wouldn't say it out loud. She needed some time alone after everything. She'd almost been killed, watched Brown get shot right in front of her, and had cops swarming her, and finally the questioning at the station and being trapped in the car with him as he drove her home.

"Thank you. It-It'll be a quick one." She slid past him, dragging her fingertips over his abdomen as she went to the shower and turned on the water.

"Take your time, baby. I'll have a martini ready for you when you're done." On second thought, as she gingerly started to unbutton her blouse, he waited for her to realize he was still there and turn to meet his gaze before he said it again. "Take your time."

Understanding dawned on her features and her shoulders drooped a bit. He thought her chin might have quivered and he just turned on his heel and left before he was tempted to gather her up in his arms and hold her some more. She needed to be alone for a bit, though, so he went into her kitchen and started preparing a few martinis, two to start with, one for each of them. He didn't know how many of these she was going to need, but he'd make her as many as she asked for.

And he waited, enjoying the texts Ellie had sent him throughout all of this, the one about Clara pushing herself up to sit for a few seconds before falling again. The look she gave her mom like she didn't know if she should cry or not. It warmed him from the inside out. And he'd been so cold before. Unable to get rid of that terrifying sensation he'd had when he'd screeched to a halt next to the office building, seeing the police cars haphazardly parked, lights still blinking, the ambulance there, someone being wheeled into it…

He'd seen it was Brown, that he'd been shot, and he tried to tear into the building, only to have Casey and two other officers have to grab onto him and nearly take him down to the ground. When they got him to stop, Casey barked, "He's with me", and he yanked on Chuck's tie, pointing in his face with a "Slow down, kid".

That was all it took for him to gain control, afraid this detective might knock him out altogether if he didn't take a breath. And he let Casey take point, shaken to his core until the moment he stepped into the room and saw his very own detective sitting there, alive, no bullet holes in her like the man downstairs'd had.

He felt a chill go through him as he stood there peering out into the courtyard of Sarah's building, watching an older woman take down a few shirts she'd hung on a clothesline and toss them into a basket. Her tabby cat made a figure-8 around her legs in the meantime, finally following her inside as she hobbled up the steps and into the building.

Chuck let himself get lost in everything for a few minutes, going through all of the worst scenarios that thankfully hadn't happened. Sarah was alive and well, currently in the shower, washing off the remnants of her harrowing ordeal.

He'd heard everything that had happened to her in Mrs. Brown's office while she told the grumpy detective—before said grump kicked him out. He supposed he couldn't blame the guy for it, though, because he'd caught himself interrupting too often. No matter how many times he apologized, he never learned, and his punishment was sitting out by himself for the remainder of the conversation.

But Sarah had been shot at multiple times, and every time Not-Cartwright had purposely missed her, his intent being to scare her. That made Chuck Bartowski angry. There was an extra level of pathology to lord your power over someone in that way, terrifying them before you kill them, making them suffer… It made him feel so disgusted, and then he thought Sarah must have come into contact with psychopaths like this guy before in her line of work.

She was an incredible bad ass, the coolest, strongest person he'd ever met. And he was sure no matter how often she'd come face to face with these crazy assholes, it didn't make being shot at any easier to handle, especially when it was so cruelly done to terrorize her. By the shakiness in her voice when she'd told them about him shooting her chair and then at her feet, and finally at the desk next to her hip, before sinking a bullet into Mr. Brown, the man she'd been attempting to protect, Chuck could tell it had gotten to her. Genuinely.

Maybe he shouldn't announce it in front of the LAPD, but deep inside, Chuck wasn't sure he'd be able to hold himself back from murdering that guy if he'd had a crack at him when he first got into that room and saw Sarah there, her face so pale, the blanket around her shoulders, the bun she'd had in her hair when he'd seen her last half pulled out… He'd discovered later that the man had grabbed her by her hair and yanked her up to her feet by it.

Chuck thought he'd like to do the same to him, but instead he'd pull his spine right out with one hard yank. Mortal Kombat style.

"Thought I'd bring the first aid kit with me because I already know you'll refuse to take no for an answer."

He spun on his heel, letting the curtain fall back into place and cover the window to see Sarah had wandered in, her step light like a cat's so that he hadn't heard her come in. Granted he might've also been a bit distracted.

But then she set the first aid kit on the table and frowned deeply. "What's wrong?"

"Huh? Wrong?"

"You turned around and looked like a rabidly angry gorilla or something for a second."

He just shook his head and sniffed in amusement. "It's nothing."

"Chuck…"

"I was thinking about what he did to you, and maybe imagining myself doing one of the Mortal Kombat fatality moves on him. That's all." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged, slowly wandering over.

She widened her eyes. "I don't know what those moves entail but you said the word fatality, so that sounds a little serious, buddy."

At least that shower had made it so she seemed a little more like herself. Less shaken, more settled. The almost-unnoticeable shiver she'd had before was gone.

"It is. I have to be honest with you, Sarah. Part of me is angry with myself that I didn't just follow him and body tackle him into the ground then and there."

Her eyes flashed, concern and even a bit of frustration in her face. And then she put her hand on his chest, her fingers curling against his shirt as she shook her head. "Chuck, don't say that. Please never do something like that. He had a gun. He would've killed you."

He clenched his jaw and looked away.

"I-I'm not trying to make it seem like you're weak or incapable, baby. I'm really not. Just—Listen to me. I'm trained in combat, I have extensive training and years of experience using guns. I had a gun with me, as well as the knives I always have strapped to me. Hey, look at me. Please." She put her good hand on the side of his face and pulled his eyes back to hers. "I was nearly powerless in there. He had me, Chuck. If he hadn't slipped, let his guard down for that one second…" Her voice drifted off. "My point is that someone trained, like me, could have easily died doing whatever it is you might've done in that moment instead of what you ended up doing." She stroked her hand through his curls. "Which was the right thing."

"I know." He gently slid his hand around her waist and pulled her a little closer. "It just felt…terrible. Watching him go in there, knowing you were about to have him burst in on you. And knowing now what he ended up doing, that you were hurt and Brown was shot. What if I could've stopped all of it?"

"What if you couldn't have but you tried anyway and ended up being shot yourself?" Her eyes searched his. He couldn't come up with an answer to that. "What would I do, then? What would I even do if you were shot, Chuck? I can't even begin to think…" She let out a harsh breath, shaking her head. And he held her tighter.

"I ran away from you. I left you behind."

"You saved my life," she said in a much steadier voice, her features hard, willing him to understand. "What you ended up doing wasn't just the right thing, Chuck, it was incredibly brave."

He winced a little. "It didn't feel very brave."

"You could've let your worry for me, your fear, overtake you and you could've run after him, tried to stop him, and ended up getting all of us killed…but instead you called the police, knowing that they'd have more of a chance of stopping him than you ever would. And you went to get Casey involved, which…" She paused. "Why did you get Casey?" She blinked, her brow furrowed as though the question had just struck her at that moment.

Chuck swallowed thickly. "I was afraid they'd believe the wrong person unless you had someone they trusted vouching for you. And I knew Casey would be the perfect person to be there for that."

She beamed at him so suddenly that his heart felt like an insane amount of weight had been taken off of it. And then she hugged him tightly, and he hugged her back similarly. "You're brave and brilliant, Chuck Bartowski."

He felt so much pride in that moment, hearing how proud she was of him, how grateful she was, how impressed she was, in her voice, feeling it in the way she squeezed him, kissed his cheek.

"And you're a bad ass and the best, Sarah Walker. So I guess we make a good pair. Maybe I can be your assistant."

"No," she giggled, kissing his cheek again and then pulling back. "I will let you take care of me, though."

"Oh, gladly," he said with as much warmth as he was capable of, and then he gently pushed her to sit in the chair at the table and went to grab a bowl, putting some warm water and soap in it, then wandering back with that and a cloth in hand.

He scooted close to her and let her drape her hand over the bowl as he silently cleaned the cuts that didn't look so bad now that she'd showered. She only winced a little at the cuts on her wrist when he was gently rubbing ointment over them, and then he wrapped a light bandage around all of it.

"I look like the bride of Frankenstein's monster," she said with a giggle once he finished.

"She wishes," Chuck answered, watching as Sarah turned her arm a bit to look at his work. "What?" he asked when she gave him a quiet, searching look.

"You did a pretty good job here, actually."

That made him smile. "Listen, I grew up with a big sister who's wanted to be a doctor ever since she found out what a doctor was. Do you know how often I got wrapped up in bandages through all the years I spent under the same roof as her?"

She laughed. "Was it often?"

"Often enough." He chuckled. "She got better at it when she was actually in med school and I guess I picked up some things, little tricks of the trade. Don't ask me to stitch a wound shut, though, because I will faint."

Sarah snorted. "That's cute."

"Is it?" he drawled dubiously. He got up then and straightened his back, feeling a few pops, then put the bowl away, the bandages and the first aid kit, and when he came back out, Sarah had finished her martini.

She held the glass up towards him and pouted a little.

"Another?" he asked, receiving a smile in return. He chuckled and took her glass, leaning down to kiss her forehead, then went back to the kitchen to make her another. "Hey, you want a flavor in it this time? Maybe some lime? I saw a lime in your fridge."

Sarah was standing next to him suddenly—those cat-like silent feet of hers—and he nearly jumped. "Sorry. Didn't mean to sneak." He shrugged at her wince. "You just…You've never put flavors in a martini for me before. It's always just been a traditional, perfectly dry martini. What's gotten into my Chuck?"

"If you want me to make it like I always do, I can." He shrugged again. She was looking at him steadily, that look of hers that saw right through him. And he sighed. "It has nothing to do with the martini, but-but I guess today sort of put into perspective for me that you're not…"

"What?"

"Immortal. Indestructible." His throat was dry then and he looked away, swallowing.

"Did you…think I was? Like some kind of comic book character?"

"No. Of course not." He sniffed in amusement. "But what you do is dangerous and it's something I'm going to have to come to terms with. I hadn't before this because I guess I…haven't had to yet. But I have to now."

"Chuck, I'm okay."

"I know you are. So am I. We're okay. And that's not something that's gonna change, no matter how many ManFatales try to take you away from me."

Sarah smirked at that and gave him a side-eye. "No fucking way anybody is taking me away from you. And vice versa," she added, pointing at him a bit threateningly.

"I didn't just mean romantically." He chuckled. "I meant…uh…you know."

"Oh." She sobered significantly. "That, too. And yeah…maybe this time we can try some lime in the martini. I have some pineapple slices, too. Maybe some of the juice…?"

"Splendid idea," he said, giving her a warm smile. And they stood side by side as he prepared more martinis for them to enjoy.

They eventually found their way to Sarah's bed, stretching themselves out over it and leaning back against her headboard. She'd since fallen asleep, her harrowing ordeal earlier on in the day knocking her out soon after she curled herself up on his chest.

He just held onto her, looking down into her face. She looked younger when she was asleep, so at peace, without any worries to speak of. But then his eyes latched onto her wrapped hand and wrist that was slung over his chest and he frowned.

She was a private investigator. And as awesome as it was, as hot as it was that he was dating someone so damn cool, he couldn't let himself forget how serious it was, too. How serious it could be. He'd never want her to give up what she wanted to do, who she wanted to be, so that he had better peace of mind when she went to work, the way the boyfriend of an accountant might. His girlfriend wasn't going to stop being a private investigator, whether he was awful enough to want her to or not.

And so…Chuck Bartowski was determined instead to support her. To be here on the hard days like today. To protect her when she needed him to. To bandage her cuts, hold her, make her martinis, and let her fall asleep in his arms.

Because being with Sarah Walker, P.I. was so much better than being with some accountant who sat in an office all day. The worry, the nerves, the adrenaline, and even the fear, were all worth it because she was worth anything and everything.

This was her, he realized, looking down into her face.

These cases with genuinely bad dudes wanting to do her harm because she was good at her job, because she was working to take them down, were all part of what made her…her. The danger, the chase, the high stakes…that was all part of her.

He loved her.

That included everything that made her who she was. That included this. And those moments of fear, the danger…

No matter what this career of hers brought them, this wouldn't ever change. He was ready for the bumps and bruises he'd get in the meantime himself. He was ready for the hurdles and hardships ahead. He thought he was ready for just about anything.

Because this was their life now.

And he wouldn't trade it for the whole universe.

[beesmygod]

this is what riverdale is about (part 4)

part 1

part 2

part 3

i’m back, to continue from where we left off. obnoxiously, i’m going to take a minute to plug my patreon, which is primarily for my webcomic but i also do movie reviews and talk about bad books i find so if you like these posts, you’ll probably like those as well. all i ask....is one dollar a month.

anyway fuck that let’s get back into this.

images are from the riverdale wiki

SEASON ONE (PART 2):

the last picture show: immediately this show reveals that our beloved jughead has been living in a nearly abandoned drive-in that he also works at. too bad for him, because it’s closing down. hilariously, literally nobody in his circle of friends cares and call his make-shift house a crack den. owned. its revealed an anonymous buyer purchased it from the town and the mayor decided to sell it to whoever.

archie brings flowers to his teacher-girlfriend’s recital and when he and grundy (and his dad) head to pop’s for a good ol malt or whatever, betty confronts him about his relationship. betty is hurt when he says grundy believed in him when no one else did and goes home with renewed purpose: take grundy down.

veronica’s mom is caught having a heated argument with a member of the southside serpents gang next to a dumpster by cheryl who, as she delights in misery and disaster, captures it all on camera. she shows veronica, who confronts her mother who brushes her off.

betty lures grundy into a fake interview for her school paper instead of going to the police. betty seems to be determining all of this based on the fact that she didnt have any social media until a year ago, which really makes me question betty’s journalistic bonefides. its framed like this means she didn’t exist before she got a twitter or whatever. its really weird. more relevant is that the only record of a geraldine grundy.....WAS AN OLD WOMAN WHO DIED 7 YEARS AGO!!!!! she takes this information to archie as well, who doesn’t care at all. he’s way too horny to care.

betty breaks into grundy’s vw bug and finds a gun and her real i.d. with her real name. archie is still too horny to care, even though betty (again, really overstepping her journalistic bounds) says that grundy might have killed jason (BASED ON THE EXISTENCE OF A GUN BETTY!!! COME ON). archie finally asks grundy straight up what the fuck is going on and she cops to trying to escape from an abusive husband, hence the gun and fake names.

jughead finds out that archie’s dad’s construction company won the bid to destroy the drive-in. its a bad time to be jughead. he tries to ask archie’s dad not to tear down the drive-in. through this convo we learn that jughead’s dad was fired from andrews construction several years ago for theft. a scene after this reveals that veronica’s mom is facilitating the purchase of the drive-in with the mayor pn behalf of her incarcerated husband.

i’m so glad the wiki reminded me of this line, word for word: everyone (and i mean literally everyone in town) goes to the drive-in for one last hurrah, where the southside serpents are guffawing up a storm. veronica somehow silences them by saying “You know what happens to a snake when a Louboutin heel steps on it? Shut the hell up or you’ll find out.“ it sucks so bad. veronica then witnesses her mother having an encounter with the same gang member who she is revealed to be paying to drive down the value of the drive-in property so hiram lodge can buy it for cheap.

archie and grundy are caught in a passionate embrace after betty’s mom reads her diary and goes on the warpath, rightfully telling her to get the fuck out of town or she’ll reveal her to be a child molester. grundy agrees to leave and archie is heartbroken. the last show of geraldine this season is her ogling two teen boys. horrible. leave, woman.

jughead leaves his shitty home and on his way out is accosted by the same gang member who was talking to hermoine lodge and is revealed to be....JUGHEADS DAD!!!!!!!!!! whatever.

heart of darkness: the town is abuzz with jason’s upcoming funeral and the teens of riverdale are fighting over who gets to take the dead kids spot as captain of the football team in a really normal and not at all super ghoulish way. archie is working his heart out now that his favorite teacher/pedophile has fled town. he has his time wasted by a member of the pussycats, valerie, who nets him a meeting with a music songwriter who tells archie he doesn’t have time for his shit. its a weird and totally pointless scene in the long run. it doesnt matter because archie’s music thing never comes to anything. the guy tells archie later, when he returns with sheet music, that his songs suck shit and he hates his music and to get out of his office.

jason and polly’s (betty’s sister) relationship seems to be at the center of whatever happened to jason, so betty starts asking around town about her sister, by using dates as a cover to ask probing questions to members of the football team. she also tries asking her father, who explains that polly and jason had a fight, polly tried to kill herself and so was shipped off to a mental institution. learning about jason’s death fucked her up again so they shan’t be exposing her to more sordid info about the events. the only information they get is that jason was selling drugs to raise money to leave town.

betty and jughead trace this thread to find out why jason would want to leave town but veronica is already finding out firsthand after she is invited to the blossom mansion for the world’s worst sleepover before the memorial (cool timing): the blossoms are all insane. they make their money on maple syrup, using the funds to build riverdale as we know it. veronica and cheryl bond over their awful parents and versonic encourages cheryl to act out at jason’s memorial FOR SOME REASON. KNOWING FULL WELL WHO CHERYL IS.

demonstrating extremely normal judgement, betty and jughead plan to raid jason’s room during the memorial to find clues. cheryl goes full hamlet, throwing herself on the coffin and weeping during her eulogy. they use this as cover to sneak away and go commit the worst social faux-pax you truly can do. however, they are interrupted by cherly’s senile grandmother, nana rose, who mistakes her for polly and reveals polly and jason were engaged. 

betty takes this information to her father who reveals he already knows but forbid the arrangement because the blossoms and the coopers have been trying to kill each other for decades over the whole maple syrup empire thing. betty and jughead later suspect her dad broke into the sheriff's office to steal his files related to uhhh everything i guess; a hunch which turns out to be correct.

meanwhile veronica’s mom is sent a live snake by the serpent gang, calls big strong fred andrews to come save her and then asks him for a job.

faster pussycats! kill! kill!: first of all fuck, the name of this ep.

archie, for some reason because i guess he doesn’t know what embarrassment is, decides he’s going to play an original song he wrote for the school talent show. he immediately gets stage fright at the try-outs and wusses out. veronica goes behind his back to sign him up anyway. thanks, asshole!

valerie, from the last ep, quits the pussycats because josie is slightly more stressed than usual about uhhh the talent show. also because she has a crush on archie for some reason.

hermoine, while acting as fred andrews’ new secretary, realizes he’s fucking BROKE. why’d he hire her? who knows. too late now. she suggests firing some people (for example............her, maybe, fred) but fred cant bear it...and is hoping to be saved by the newest construction job he doesn’t know that hermoine is manipulating under the table. much like his son, fred is now too horny to care and they make out while veronica watches awkwardly.

the remaining pussycats try to figure out what to do about their missing member problem. josie’s mom helpfully lays out that they need a strong woman of color, but not one prettier or more talented than josie. enter...VERONICA!!! who is miffed because archie replaced her with valerie in the talent show duet. veronica is now scientifically less pretty and talented than josie by show standards, which just rules because i love thinking that there are teen power rankings in riverdale.

betty and jughead make their way to visit polly at The Sisters Of Quiet Mercy which is literally the best name for a goth cover band in the world. surprise! polly is pregnant with jason’s baby. polly reveals she and jason planned to run away together, but she was caught by her parents and sent away. she then awkwardly asks how jason is and someone has to break the news to her.

josie’s dad makes a brief appearance, which i absolutely do not remember at all. i thought he only showed up in season 3 which makes mayor mccoys character arc way more awkward. anyway, the mccoy family, the andrews and the lodges all have dinner together to discuss business and its awkward as all hell. no one at the table likes the andrews.

betty straight up asks her dad if he killed jason and her mom laughs her ass off at the idea of betty’s soft white suburban ham shank looking dad being able to kill a weed much less a human. keep that in mind.

veronica’s mom forges veronica signature on a form allowing andrews construction to move ahead with the job.

jughead and betty kiss after talking about how they arent their parents. keep that in mind. anyway, betty takes jughead to a car polly mentioned that full of EVIDENCE. they take picture of it and leave the car to go tell the sheriff because i guess suddenly no one has cellphones.  jughead and betty return with the sheriff later to find the car has been light up by an unknown person. almost immediately after, bughead tries to rescue polly at the institution only to find she’s already bailed. welp.

josie and valerie make up and all four pussycats perform. josie’s dad walks out on her performance? harsh. cool dad moves.

archie sings and the crowd loves it. who gives a shit.

a kid died, guys. come on.

[paragonevil]

@therealricksanchezpleasestandup

It’s been more than a few days since Aku pretty much pushed Rick away from him and figuratively told him to sit in the corner and think about what he’s done. Since then, neither him nor Morty have heard anything at all from his fiance, and presumably that means no one else has either. Aku couldn’t really be sure on that front, seeing as he wasn’t in touch with Summer or Beth or Jerry or anyone else in the Sanchez family, for that matter. He’d ask Bill if he saw him anywhere, but he’s sure Bill would’ve mentioned it, if he had. Though Aku’s opinion of their situation has not changed at all even after some further reflection on the matter, it is with some reluctance that he realizes their conflict could be better resolved through a discussion than simply by pushing him away.

He had hoped to enlist Morty, or anyone else really, to come with him and help scrape Rick off whatever surface he happened to be stuck to, but looks like he’d be going this one solo. He couldn’t really blame Morty— not really— for not wanting anything to do with this damn rescue mission, or whatever it was about to be. After all, the kid had suffered so much grief at the hands of the old man. It’s with a sigh that Aku reluctantly supposed that meant that he would be playing moderator for at least a few weeks between them, or at least until the two warmed up to one another again. Or— if Gods were willing— Rick had at last come to his damn senses.

He and Aku had a long, long talk ahead of them today, once he found him. And boy, that was not going to be fun.

He thinks these things now as he sits upon the edge of his bed, his head pounding and his thoughts muddled as he stares hard at the ground between his feet. He knows he should probably already be out there looking for him, but he has no idea where the hell he even is. It’s the principle of the thing rather than any real technical obstruction which has kept him from spying on Rick since they became partners— really, it was just a small gesture of respect. ( And hey, he didn’t need to spy on him anymore when he could just as easily come home to him every night! ) But he supposes he may have to break his own rule today, if he’s to know where he is. Rick didn’t give him much of a choice.

Mm. He hummed aloud as he stood up from his bed and rose forth out of the darkness of his bedchambers, his sudden appearance scaring the janitor who had been busy scrubbing up the outcropping before the throne room opened to visitors that morning. Aku ignored him even as they man sloshed mop water out of his bucket, slipped and fell hard on his ass, then scrambled out of the room on hands and knees. In his left hand, Aku clutched the little-used portal gun Rick had built for him towards the beginning of their acquaintanceship; a time which seemed so long ago now, after all they’d been through. He hadn’t seen much occasion to use this thing, and quite frankly he hardly remembered how it worked, but at least his fiance had been kind enough to clearly label things on the device and that was enough for him to figure it out. It was curiosity and symbolism, rather than any real necessity, which had given him the idea to use it today.

He reached forth and pried aside the flaming tendrils of his throne room walls, revealing the zipper hidden in the flames. He pulled the tab, and his spy-portal opened right away to reveal Rick’s location. From the looks of things, his fiance he sat now upon what looked to be a pink rock... staring out over a purple mountain range, the young morning dew still condensing on the hull of his ship which smoldered in ruin behind him. The thing looked badly damaged and still in the process of repairing itself. The dirt around and behind Rick looked badly gouged, too. In fact, as far as Aku could see in the vision, ruts were tore in the soil for several hundred meters. Alien trees with yellow-colored leaves were torn and ripped from the ground. It was a wonder the ship had held up as nicely as it had, and furthermore that Rick himself looked so... intact.

Aku swallowed. It didn’t bear thinking about the other possibility, which could just as easily have happened. Rick’s ship up in flames, and Rick himself torn to pieces inside the twisted wreckage...

He would take this small mercy, and not squander it.

After fiddling with the dials of his portal-gun, the demon aimed it at the wall, and a hellish, glowing red portal manifested itself with a wet-sounding plorp, and Aku stepped through it without ceremony.

The 4th dimension— that space between here and there— felt nice and cool like a light fall mist via this method of teleportation, a sensation which was admittedly more comfortable than using his own magic to get from place to place. When he did it, it was like being sucked through a straw and reappearing on the other side.

Rick’s back is to him when he steps out of the portal, though he knows his fiance is well aware of his presence. He always is.

“If you won’t come home to talk, we will talk here,” he said simply to announce his presence, yet before he can get much farther, he steps on something and looks down. It’s Rick’s cellphone, and it looks like it’s taken a pretty good beating. No doubt Rick had done that himself, and not the crash. The thought that Rick had been avoiding him this whole time made some long-dormant part of himself ache in his chest— the part of him which feared, deep down, even after all this time that Rick would one day leave him, or admit that he had never cared, or worse still that he himself was not what Rick wanted.

There was no doubt that Aku loved this man, but he could be so difficult sometimes, especially when it came time to discussing their relationship and conflicting morals. And the idea that Rick would try to spare him the trouble of his continued presence really just helped to drive home the idea that Rick really and truly hated himself. There was no doubt in the demon’s mind that Rick saw himself as a real threat, a real burden to those around him... so much so that, in Rick’s mind, even the Gods themselves could not suffer the idea of him.

It was a hard thought to digest for Aku, yet not one which was new. Rick had shown such behavior in the past during their previous arguments when he would remove himself for days at a time, get himself fatally hurt, or captured, or lost. Whatever the case may be. Basically any situation he could willingly put himself in, which might help him self-destruct. At the end of the day, Aku couldn’t be his full-time, Gods-damned baby-sitter all hours of the day and night. Not that Rick isn’t important, because Gods knew he was to Aku, but quite frankly Aku had an Empire to run. Rick couldn’t keep flying off the damn handle like this and secluding himself on some world far away, and just stare into the sunset until he fucking wasted away. No way. Aku wouldn’t let that happen, if he had any say in the matter.

He sighed and stepped up behind him.

“I forbid you to destroy yourself,” he said now, his voice soft with intention as he rested one clawed hand heavily upon his shoulder. When it was just the two of them, there was no need to shout to get his point across. The seriousness of his tone did all the work for him.