#and her 'air con' is just 'blow out air that is the temperature of the engine'

[i-am-blue15]

Calamity Kids VS Kaiju

*(Pros)

-(Cons)

=(Equal)

*All the Calamity Kids will be at 50% power at the start but will go to 100 if they need to even the playing field.

-They all have a limited amount of time to defeat their opponents, so they must use it wisely.

Dipper & Mabel VS Destoroyah

*Destoroyah can split himself into smaller spider-like creatures.

*His Oxygen Destroyer Ray and Variable Slice can cut through nearly anything.

*Can absorb energy from his jaws or tail, replenishing and empowering himself.

-His stomach is the most vulnerable as a strong enough blow causes him to vomit blood.

-Is weak to extreme temperatures

×

*Mabel can create and command an army of battle plushies.

*She can create giant bubbles to trap and demobilize opponents.

*Dipper can generate different monster body parts like tentacles to aid him in enhancing physical strength.

*He can also create a long flaming sword that can nearly slice anything in two.

*Dipper and Mabel can create long-range attacks (Critical Rolls, Death Muffins, and Super Yarn Bomb) and summon kaiju-sized monsters (Enigmatic Beast and King Waddles).

-They must defeat Destoroyah as a team as just one of them on their own won't be enough.

Raz VS Spacegodzilla

*Can create and summon crystals from the ground and out of thin air.

*Has telekinetic abilities as he can fire his crystals at opponents like missiles and carry large objects with his mind.

*The ability to fly at high speeds.

*Can redirect his Corona Beam to hit his targets with his telekinesis.

*Can create a Photon Shield to defend himself.

*Can absorb different kinds of energy such as the crystals he produces to boost his powers.

-If any of the crystals in his body are damaged, he will weaken significantly.

-Isn't the best physical attacker and therefore relies heavily on his powers.

×

*Raz's psychic powers have drastically increased to the point he can telekinetically lift entire buildings and his psi-blasts can penetrate through nearly anything.

*Can produce about a hundred archetypes to overwhelm opponents and for a little more extra damage.

*Throws bad idea grenades.

*Can slow down time using Time Bubble.

*Raz can collect more psychic energy from psitanium or in this case, Spacegodzilla's crystals.

*With enough psychic energy, Raz can produce a colossal psychic titan like the one in the Meat Circus.

-Spacegodzilla can even absorb Raz's energy if he gets hold of him so he must keep his distance and strike at the right opportunity.

Lili VS Biollante

*Biollante can produce a drastic number of tendrils and vines for offense and defense.

*She can spew a highly corrosive acid that can melt flesh to the bone.

*Has an incredible rapid regeneration ability.

*Despite looking immobile, she is actually able to traverse thanks to the vine "legs" on her lower body.

*She can tunnel into the ground to gain more distance and perform ambush maneuvers.

-If she is damaged internally (especially if it's her glowing "heart"), it could be catastrophic for her.

-She requires water for her body to defend and regenerate itself, otherwise, she will be open to attacks.

×

*Lili's pyrokinesis has been enhanced to the point she can create a flaming storm of destruction.

*She can produce and control plant life to aid her in combat.

*Shoots projectile explosive seeds that detonate upon impact.

*If she builds up enough fury, her fire attacks greatly increase.

-Will have qualms about hurting a plant and since she has telepathy, can hear the thoughts of the human side of Biollante. (She was made from the DNA of the daughter of the scientist who created her.)

-If she releases her blue-flaming fury, she will have to go into cooldown and her firepower will decrease.

-Even though she's resistant to Biollante's acid, she can still feel a painful, burning sensation albeit briefly.

Norman VS Hedorah

*Hedorah can split itself into smaller Hedorahs to avoid certain attacks.

*Its sludge can be used to immobilize or burn victims.

*It's capable of flight.

*It produces toxic gas to suffocate or blind opponents.

*It can fire his Hedirum Ray from his eyes and cause painful burning.

*Its malleable body makes him impervious to physical attacks.

*It consumes pollution to grow and replenish itself.

-It requires moisture to function so anything like the power of electricity would cause it to dry out and be turned into ash.

×

*Norman can generate lightning to attack at a distance.

*He can summon hordes of hungry flying ghouls (big and small) to overwhelm his opponent.

*He can make himself non-corporeal like a ghost to evade attacks, this requires his full concentration.

*He can boost his energy by absorbing electricity from machines or in the sky.

*If he harnesses enough energy, Norman can take on the form of a large wraith, which also increases the power of his lightning.

-Though Hedorah's gas won't kill him as it would an average person, he could still be blinded and have difficulty breathing if he makes contact.

Neil VS Leatherback

*Leatherback has the strength to lift and hurl a whole Jaeger over some yards.

*It has tough plated skin that acts as armor so It can take a good amount of damage and won't falter.

*Fists are primary weapons and can tear through the armor of a Jaeger.

*Will resort to hit-and-run tactics and then perform an ambush attack on the opponent.

-Unfortunately, its EMP-like organ won't be effective against this opponent.

-Its belly is soft compared to the rest of the body and can be considered a weak point.

×

*Neil's durability has increased so much that a falling building would barely leave a scratch.

*With enough harnessed energy, Neil can create an extra pair of large arms that can restrain the kaiju or send it flying with a single punch.

*He can generate a shield made from his energy for extra defense.

*if he punches the ground, spiked rocks would shoot out like the Pokémon move Stone Edge along with causing a small earthquake.

=He is just as agile with his attacks compared to Leatherback.

-Would be at a disadvantage if they take this fight underwater and have to rely on his defenses until he can escape and resurface.

Coraline VS Rodan (Monsterverse)

*Rodan is capable of performing devastating aerial maneuvers such as barrel-rolling or sonic booms by clapping his wings together.

*He is extremely durable and resistant to intense heat thanks to his bio-volcanic nature.

*Can ambush his opponents by hiding in the clouds.

*Uses a charging attack by swooping in with his beak or talons which triggers an explosion upon impact.

-Though he is durable, Rodan can still be impaled in the case of Mothra stabbing him with her stinger.

×

=Coraline matches Rodan in terms of speed.

*however, she has the edge in agility such as maneuvering from one angle to another in the blink of an eye like a dragonfly.

*She can fire homing shots at her opponent, particularly aiming for vulnerable spots like the eyes or inside the mouth.

*Coraline can generate lightsabers that can slice and pierce through virtually anything if she gathers enough energy.

*By rotating in wagon wheel fashion, her ponytail made of energy can function like a circler saw, carving through whatever's in her path.

*If she can pick up enough speed, Coraline can cause a devastating sonic blow upon impact against her opponent.

-Though durable, Coraline can still get temporarily knocked out if she takes the hit from Rodan's sonic booms and exploding charges.

Wybie VS Mechagodzilla (Monsterverse)

*Mechagodzilla is armed to the teeth with different artillery such as missiles, plasma punches, spinning blades at the tip of its tail and even grinding saws in it's hands and mouth.

*It's also equipped with jet boosters to enhance its agility and the power of its blows.

*Its Proton Scream can cut through buildings and even rival Godzilla's Atomic Breath.

*Its armor is highly durable against most attacks unless that attack is powered with some kind of powerful energy like Kong's axe when it absorbed Godzilla's Atomic Breath.

-If its link with Ghidorah's skull is tampered with, it will glitch out momentarily.

×

*Wybie can create whatever machine, weapon, vehicle, or tool he can think of out of his energy.

*He can arm himself with four or more robotic claws like the ones Dr. Octopus has to restrain or defend against his opponent.

*For a boost of speed, he can generate a powerful rocket-booster pack.

*Wybie has the power to manipulate and control electronics or machinery in the area.

-He can only take minimal control of Mechagodzllla such as holding it in place or using its limbs or tail against it.

-He, unfortunately, has lower defense so a Proton Scream could cost him a great deal of damage if he's not careful.

[jonathankai]

Jokes on cocks

I was going to draw a comic, but ended up writing a drabble. Sorry it’s un-beta’d.

Reds and Blues get to stay on Earth for a while. It’s a hot day, and Tucker and Kai enjoy popsickles on their way from supermarket. A conversation about phallic objects is inevitable.

Word count: 628

Rating: M

WARNING: sexual humor; debate over blowjobs

Heat was unbearable: pavement melting, air thick and shimmering, not even a slight breeze to move it. Streets died out, save for poor souls who had to go out in this ungodly hour.

Two of these unfortunate people were currently at the supermarket. Blissful shade, air cons blowing over them, they dreaded to go out in the sunlight.

Tucker and Kai tried to stall as much as possible, slowly packing purchases, tearing wrappers on popsicles and just staying in front of sliding doors, sighing heavily.

“Ready?”

“Nope”.

“Yeah, me neither. Let’s go”.

They dragged out, squirming and wincing at cruel effects of the outside world.

“Shit, it’s even hotter than I remember!”, Tucker howled as Kai hissed, her eyes adjusting to brightness.

Heavy plastic bags in their hands, they strolled towards home at sluggish pace.

“I know we used to bitch about power armor’s temperature control, but anything is better than this”, Tucker stated. “I think I’m just going to wear mine all the time until heat breaks. Screw Earth, screw its’ rules. What about you… Kai?”

His question faltered then peaked with confusion at the end, as he turned around to see Kai loosely holding the end of the stick protruding out of her mouth, the whole popsicle gone.

Seeing his baffled expression, she dragged the stick out, sucking her lips around it in the process.

“What?”, she asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“Did you just… Swallow the thing? In one gulp?”

Kai looked at the stick in her hand, then back at Tucker. She cocked her head.

“What, do you like to play with it for starters?”

“I’m guess I’m just not a fan of brain freeze”, Tucker replied, unabashed, and turned to his own popsicle.

He didn’t get far with it, sporting smug look on Kai’s face out of the corner of his eye. In an instant, it made him feel uneasy.

“Wait, why are you staring at me?”

“Oh, don’t mind me. I just want to check out your technique. Compare notes, so to say”.

She smiled at him pleasantly, all innocence and benevolence. Tucker gave his popsicle a considering look for a couple of seconds.

“You know I don’t suck dicks, right?”, he asked incredulously.

She nudged him with a shoulder.

“Come on! Not even once in a lifetime?”

“Nuh-uh”.

Kai’s face changed, going from playful to nearly dismayed.

“Wow. You’re seriously missing out, Tucker”.

“Bullshit!”

“It’s not! You could have been laid by now if you weren’t so picky. Options wider, chances higher…”

She waved the stick in emphasis and pointed it at the man.

“It’s math, Tucker”.

“Screw math! Screw all of this! I’m going to enjoy my popsicle, no dicks involved!”

“Alright, alright, geez”.

Kai looked away with an offended huff. Tucker’s attention returned to the matter at hand.

The popsicle was melting. Droplets were sliding down its’ length, pooling in the wrappers. Tucker figured that he should lick over the shaft to collect all droplets first, then suck at the base and then he can take the tip in his mou—

He shoved the popsicle in Kai’s direction.

“You may have it”.

“Ooooh, watermelon!”

She accepted the treat enthusiastically and it wasn’t long until it was gone. They walked in silence then, Tucker pondering over whether or not he’ll be able to enjoy a popsicle again, Kai licking the second stick clean. Eventually her voice stopped his train of thought.

“You really should consider sucking dicks”, she said plainly. “You look like a guy who might enjoy it, believe me. Think about all the possibilities. I can be your personal instructor”. She winked at him. “But we’ll need a volunteer. Do you think Wash...”

But Tucker wasn’t listening. He sped up, trying to save the remnants of his sanity.

[skvaderarts]

Petrichor Chapter 25: Farewell

Chapter 25: Farewell

Note: thanks for giving me a little more editing time, everyone. I'm a lot happier without this turned out now! It's not perfect, but it's much better than it was lol!

(-~-)

As dusk loomed over the city, the front door to a small local bakery opened, and out stepped a familiar young woman with long red hair wearing a black coat, the chili air causing her to shiver as she stepped out of the way and allowed her companion to exit behind her. She then turned and locked the door before stuffing the keys into her pocket along with both of her hands, the cool air clearly taking her by surprise. It had been warmer an hour or so ago. But then again, that was the nature of autumn. As the days grew shorter, the temperature fell. But that was just an excuse for a couple of hot chocolate or a good bowl of soup, so had she been prepared for it, she probably wouldn't have minded at all.

"Thanks for getting me out of the house for a few minutes. I think I need some fresh air." She said softly, sighing as she looked up at her apartment. She had left one of her lights on on purpose so that people would think she was home, a safety precaution that she had come to rely on. She wasn't sure if it actually did anything, but it made her feel safer, so perhaps that was enough. She then turned her attention back to her companion, her cheeks and nose turning slightly red in response to the cold air. And for a moment they made eye contact before he turned away slightly, seemingly uncomfortable with her lingering gaze. Her cheeks became even redder than they already were in response as she looked down at the ground, her feet shuffling awkwardly. That had been… something.

"You seemed… consumed by your thoughts. I thought you may be in need of a distraction." Vergil said as she turned to face him again, frost blowing out of her mouth as she acclimated to the chili evening air. She gave him a bit of a funny look, seemingly noticing that no frost came from his mouth, but perhaps he simply ran a little hotter than she did. He was right. Getting out of her house for a few minutes would be good for her. She would just ignore the chilliness for the time being. It wasn't like she was going to freeze to death.

"Are we going anywhere in particular?" She inquired somewhat tiredly.  Hopefully it wasn't too far. She did get cold easily, so as much as she enjoyed the autumn air, she didn't want to linger in it for too long. And that was to say nothing of the fact that she still had to make herself dinner and get to bed at a reasonable time. This couldn't be a long trip even if she wanted it to be.

"... No." He answered after a moment, genuinely not sure as to where she might even want to go. He had considered the library for a minute, but he had decided against it, not particularly wanting to bring her back to the place where he had been luring for the last few days. That seemed like a good way to raise a few eyebrows, and he didn't need anyone to recognize him or anyone he had been around.

"Oh?" She actually chuckled slightly, seemingly amused by his cluelessness. He had been so eager to get her out of the building, but he didn't have a destination in mind. Were they just going to stand out on the front steps and talk? Because she wasn't opposed to that, but it was an interesting notion. She hoped that her neighbor wasn't home. She could just see that nosy old hag nagging her tomorrow about having a man that she had never seen before in her home after dark. Oh, the way her tongue would wag.

"I don't live here. I haven't the slightest idea where any points of interest are." He confessed almost dryly, not entirely sure what he was hoping to accomplish. Admittedly, he just didn't like to see her sad, and he wasn't entirely sure why it bothered him so much. Normally he wouldn't care but there was something different about her. Something that compelled him to do something.

She remained quiet for a moment, her brow furrowing for a woman as she seemed to consider a few options in her head. And after a minute or so of silence she looked up at him, the tiredness and her eyes conflicting with the sudden wave of excitement that she felt as she remembered that there was a place nearby that might be suitable. "There aren't any… but I know a place you might like if you're willing to walk a block or two."

Vergil I took a moment to consider her offer. He then gestured for her to lead the way with a silent nod, willing to humor her a tiny bit longer. He hadn't the slightest idea how to comfort someone who was going through emotional turmoil, so he chose to remain quiet instead, well aware of the fact that most of his advice would be harsh or cynical and that she probably didn't need that right now. It wouldn't contribute anything useful. This was far from his level of expertise. In fact, he didn't know much of the time how to comfort himself during such times. 

He was the sort who pushed away such feelings, refusing to acknowledge that he had them in the first place most of the time rather than confront the painful memories that they dredged up out of the depths of his despair. But despite this, he was willing to spare a few more minutes with her before returning to his research at the library. Perhaps he could spend just a bit more time there before they closed for the day. And retrieving his cloak was probably a good idea.

True to her word, they walked a few blocks up the road no more than 10 minutes away and came to the entrance of a small gated park. Old oak trees shaded a path lined with hydrangea bushes and other flowers that he didn't know the name of but he recognized from having seen them previously, some from his mother's garden. She had always loved flowers so much. The path was paved with large stones and in the center of the park stood a fountain, the entire bottom of which was lined with various amounts of small change, mostly pennies. Two old metal benches on either side of the fountain under the shade of the trees, parallel to the entrance. It wasn't a large park, but it was quiet, fragrant, and well-lit. A good place to read a book. And without a word the two of them begin to walk through it, simply taking in the peace and quiet as the crickets began to settle in and chirp as birds flew overhead, headed home for the evening. It would be dark soon, sunset rapidly approaching. He couldn't say that he minded and he most certainly didn't think she did. They wouldn't have come here if they had. 

"You're quiet. Are you thinking about something?" She asked as they walked through the small neighborhood park, looping back around towards the entrance after several minutes of silence. It wasn't a very big park and the only notable thing about it was the fountain in the middle, but it was still pretty and it had been nice to take it in for a moment. Considering her hectic day-to-day life It was rare that she simply stopped and admired something. Or that she slowed down at all. It wasn't good for her health and she knew that, but it was what she demanded of herself. Perhaps she needed to cut herself some slack… 

"I left my cloak at the library." He said truthfully, despite the fact that this wasn't the only thing on his mind. He had been considering leaving since this morning, part of him telling himself that there was still much that he could learn from this town, but the reality was settling in that he was probably just lying to himself to have an excuse to stay and that he had actually hit a dead end like he always did. Or perhaps it was because he needed to believe that he was making progress. There was nothing to say that it wasn't both, in all honesty.

"Oh no! I hope you're able to retrieve it. It's always awful when that happens." She said, clearly relating to the experience of having lost a garment in public before. He wasn't entirely sure how he knew this, but it was something in the way she looked at him that made it obvious. "Can I ask why you wear it in the first place? I quite like your hair. It's a shame that you cover it up. I think it's quite pretty."

"You… like it?" He didn't know why that sounded so natural to him, but it certainly did. People very rarely commented on his hair color, although he was sure that they noticed it. He saw the looks, but he couldn't say that he cared one way or another about what strangers on the street thought of him. This was the first time he had actually been told by someone that they liked the color of his hair. It was… strange.

"It's very different. Is that your natural hair color or…" she seemed hesitant to ask whether or not his white hair was natural or not, probably concerned that she was being rude. And a part of him found this rather amusing, shaking his head ever so slightly in response. Of all the things to be embarrassed to ask about, he couldn't fathom this one.

"More questions? Inquisitive, aren't we? Perhaps to a fault." He thought to himself as he wondered whether or not he should answer that truthfully. He didn't see a reason not to, but it was still a strange thing to actually talk about since he didn't normally participate in small talk like this. And then there was the added element of irony when the fact that he found her red hair gorgeous was taken into consideration. How had they settled on this topic of conversation in the first place? "It is, yes. Courtesy of my father."

"How exciting! You must have some very interesting genetics. I was the black sheep in the family. The only redhead out of all my cousins. My parents both have dark hair, so I must have gotten all the recessive genes." She said as she chuckled slightly, seemingly recalling something ridiculous from her past if the way she rolled her eyes playfully was anything to go by. 

"That is probable." He said, making a mental note of the fact that most of her genetics probably were. He didn't know what her parents looked like, but red hair and green eyes were not typical of most of the population. He couldn't speak on behalf of her freckles, but he did know that she was rather unique in that regard. She was not the first woman he'd seen with red hair and green eyes, but he still didn't come across them very often. Well, at least not to his knowledge considering the fact that hair dye and eye contacts existed. It was hard to be sure.

Vergil pondered for a moment whether or not his own hair color would be considered a dominant or recessive gene should both of his parents be human. It was clearly the dominant gene in this particular circumstance, but he wondered if that was typical. He had honestly never given it much thought until just now. It was simply how he was and there had been no reason to question it, but it did stand out, didn't it? After all, white hair was quite the unique treat among humans who were not elderly. It certainly didn't help with his efforts to blend in and go unseen, that was for sure.

"Something's on your mind besides that. I hope I'm not prying, but is everything alright?" She asked as she cleared her throat, the chilly Autumn air not agreeing with her lungs. It was so dry out here compared to the bakery. It was going to take some adjustments to become accustomed to it as the season progressed. Something told her that she should have grabbed a scarf on the way out the door.

"I shall be leaving soon, and it is rare that I return to a place once I've left it." He confessed, cursing himself internally as he did so. He felt as though he was only intensifying her suffering. He had brought her out here as a distraction, but perhaps it was best that he told her now and let her process whatever she felt all at once. Or perhaps he was overthinking it? After all, what could she possibly feel for him? They barely knew one another. Was he simply delusional?

She stopped dead in her tracks, a look of shock shot melancholy on her face. She knew that he was a drifter, but she hadn't expected him to leave so soon, and it was plain to see. "Oh… I… "

Clearly picking up on her desire for clarification, he decided to elaborate slightly, but not too much. It was best that she was kept in the dark about what he was up to. He doubted there was anything nefarious that she would do if she did know, but the less that others knew about him, the better. He was better off on his own anyway. "I am searching for something. I've yet to find it."

"Have you had any luck at all?" She said breathlessly, her tone not dissimilar to that of a person who had just been punched in the gut. She was looking down at the ground as they walked, her head not tilted but her eyes redirected. She was composed but he sensed that something was amiss as they slowly looped back around the blocks and headed towards her bakery again. It seemed that his announcement had brought her great dismay, and he couldn't deny that there was some part of him that felt as though his departure were a mistake as well. He had no idea what was causing this unrelenting sensation of discomfort, but he did not appreciate it in the slightest. "Are you looking for something in particular?"

"Records. An indication that the individual I seek has passed through this region. It is simply something I would know when I see it." Vergil said, confident that it was best he did not elaborate any further than that. He wasn't going to explain to her that he was looking for occult books or anything similar that might have anything to do with his father. She didn't need to know any of that. To her understanding his reasons for departing, not that her understanding was required at all. This was a courtesy. Nothing more. Or so he told himself.

"Something of a gut reaction, then? I take it that whatever you're searching for is quite important to you." She said quietly, her mind miles away. This conversation had taken up quite a sudden turn, hadn't it? A turn for the worst.

The look on her face told him that she was curious if not still a bit distracted by her thoughts. She asked for answers with her eyes, her silence only making her voiceless plea more noticeable. He wondered just how much he could tell her without telling her anything at all, internally chastising himself for becoming so loose-lipped in the presence of this young woman. She truly had a spell over him in that regard. He was known for his tungsten resolve and air-lock tight mouth, But something about her physically compelled him to speak; forced him to let his guard down in her presence despite every conviction he held screaming that he should do otherwise. All the more reason for him to leave town. He knew that he should not tell her anything. That he should not tell anyone or anything. Information could not be spread that was not public knowledge.

And yet.

"... You would be correct. It's been a little over a decade since I've seen him. I have many questions and much to tell him." Vergil said almost too quietly. This topic was nigh on approachable as far as he was concerned. It was a bottomless well of grief that he could never hope to bail out, let alone see the bottom of. It was best not to stare into the abyss lest he fell into it never to be seen again.

"Is this person a relative of yours? You must love them quite dearly to go to such lengths to track them down. Perhaps a brother or a very close friend you haven't seen in a long time?" He asked somewhat shakily, still reeling from the revelation that her new conversation partner planned to leave just as soon as she'd arrived; that he planned to disappear like so much dust in the wind after a storm. She… she was going to miss him.

Vergil flinched at the mention of a possible brother. She had unintentionally kicked a sore spot, dredging up memories that he had long since stab attempted to stab to death in a back alley before unceremoniously digging a half-hearted ditch and pushing what remained into the hole, still kicking and screaming as he buried them alive They occasionally clawed their way to the surface, forcing him to have to push them down again. He had yet to find a method that would allow him to pour concrete over the top and walk away forever. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't quiet the yearning deep within him to see someone he knew long dead again. 

And the strangest thing of all was that he could not think of a single thing to miss about them, but perhaps he was simply lying to himself to not face his grief. He had to be. It was easier to remember the worst qualities about a person and convince yourself that you never loved them at all than it was to face the fact that they were gone forever. Anything else was nothing more than his pride speaking. His denial. The veil that he had covered his past with so as to not have to face it. And although he would never admit it to himself or anyone else partially because he lacked the cognitive ability to even understand this fact about himself and would not possess it for many years to come, there was a part of him that missed his little squabbles with his younger brother. He wondered what his twin had thought as the flames had consumed him, trapped inside that burning house as he stood outside and watched everything and everyone he'd once loved be reduced to cinders; to dust in the wind in the wake of his grief. As his family home had crumbled before him. As his entire life has been torn down around him.

He missed the little swing in the front yard that the two of them had squabbled over. He missed the quiet evenings his father had spent reading to him. He missed when their mother forced him and his brother to help her weed her ridiculously oversized garden.

He missed the life he couldn't leave behind.

And he was running from it and towards it all at once.

"My father." That was all he said, seeing no reason to elaborate further. This was a topic that he would not discuss. End of story.

A look of horror crossed her face as she stopped walking for a moment, seemingly taking it back by the idea that his father was missing or had otherwise disappeared. That had been the last thing that she had expected him to say. "It seems that my petty squabbles with my father might be nothing after all then… I'm so sorry I-"

"Do not compare your personal struggles to those of others. To do so is to do us both a disservice. This is not a contest." He said bluntly, not quite annoyed but displeased all the same. It wasn't angry with her, but it was a notion he had heard far too often for his liking. No one knew what he had been through. He refused to elaborate and he refused to accept that his suffering did not matter but simply because worse things had happened to others. It was a sentiment that he refused to acknowledge.

Despite his harsh tone, she couldn't help but agree, even if she was surprised by the delivery of his statement. She could tell that she had touched a nerve with him, but that wouldn't matter much longer regardless. They had turned onto the street where her bakery resided. It seemed that goodbyes were in order.

"You may have a point there. The only one who knows the depths of our struggles is us. Suffering shouldn't be a contest, and comparing it accomplishes nothing. We're entitled to feel the weight of our own sorrow without being told that it is minuscule. Knowing that others suffer does not erase our own pain." She said as they drew ever closer to her home, their little evening walk coming to a close in much the same way as their brief companionship was. But it had truly been nice while it lasted. True companionship is a rare thing to come by these days. For both of them.

"Well said." Vergil thought to himself as he came to a stop in front of the door to her shop, the young woman reaching into her pocket to take out her keys and unlock the door. He nodded in agreement, not responding to her verbally, but agreeing all the same even if he probably would have said it differently himself.

"... If this is goodbye… then I'm glad I met you, even if I never got the chance to know you like I would have liked to. I think we could have been… friends… "

For reasons that were beyond him, he couldn't muster a response to that statement. It seemed as though his brain had halted all of its functions, the reality that he was telling her goodbye slowly sleeping in as he attempted to come up with some sort of meaningful response, in part because he felt he owed himself one and equally so that he owed her one. It had only been about a week now since he had met her, but he still hadn't figured out how to speak appropriately to her presence.

"Please… if you ever pass through town again and decide that you want that dinner after all… I'll be here." She said softly as she stood there, holding the door open. She shuffled her feet as she looked down at the ground before her eyes drifted up towards him again, a softness to them. Her cheeks were flushed as she pulled her shoulders up to hide her face in her hair, clearly disheveled. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but he thought he caught a glimmer of moisture in her eyes. And as she awkwardly shuffled her arm and wrapped it around her waist after realizing she had nothing better to do with it, she gave a sad smile, swallowing as she nodded and stepped backward through the door. "Goodbye stranger. I'm glad you passed by. I really am."

And with that she gently closed the door and locked it again, stepping backward as she waved a final time before turning and then walking towards the stairs at the back of her shop. She was clearly going back up to her apartment. Perhaps an early bedtime was in order. And as he watched her go everything seemed to slow down. He was suddenly aware of every rustling leaf that blew up the cracked cobblestone street and the low hum of the fluorescent bulbs that lined the streets. And he could feel the autumn breeze blow across his skin, It's still barely perceptible to him as we reached for the door and stopped himself, looking down at his own hand in silent confusion as though it had betrayed him. What did he think he was doing?

No. He would leave. It was best this way. If he went back to speak with her again, that would only make things worse for her. For himself. He never had to say goodbye to anyone when he moved from place to place. This was not the time to make a habit of it. And as he watched her disappear up the stairs and saw the street lights flicker on around him as dusk became night, he turned and walked away. And he left a piece of himself behind as he disappeared into the night.

He wouldn't return to the library. He would go to the train yard. Literature with the last thing on his mind at a time like this.

Perhaps it was best that he never rescued a stranger again. 

(-~-)

Vergil, I'm glad you've gotten better at talking to people as you've gotten older because omfg yikes. I hope you guys liked this chapter. Let me know in the comments what you think, and I'll see you guys next week! I might have a doctor's appointment, so I'll keep you posted. I hope you've all had a good weekend. Take care and happy spooky month!

[barwinter4]

The More You Realize, The Greater Of The Grasp Of Heating and air conditioning You'll Be

No one wants to learn their temperature or air-con has stopped doing work. Your Heating and air conditioning program allows you to are living easily, which explains why you have to take care of it well. Listed below there are numerous excellent tips to help you accomplish that, so read on! Will not be amazed when the Heating and air conditioning contractor you decide on does an assessment on your own property. Any good professional will hang out checking out the program you currently have and exactly what the needs are for your own home. They will likely also have a look at your duct system to check out oxygen leakages. Have any arrangement having an HVAC licensed contractor in composing. Some building contractors attempt to ignore more than this method and fee clients a lot of money. For those who have a particular cost and warrantee in composing, they could not return back and alter this information. Should they do, they could have a court action on their own hands. To save money in your Heating and air conditioning system, transform air conditioning lower at nighttime and allow your property heat up a bit. To help keep on your own great, utilize a chilling normal water-filled pillow to cool down your head and your whole body consequently. This coupled with a fan will stop you from getting too hot whilst conserving on the electricity bills. Once you purchase a new air conditioning system, don't let the salesman discuss you into too big of your system. This can be a complete waste of cash and won't successfully awesome your home. The more time a process goes, the more productive it will probably be when it's jogging, so try to find one which goes 15 to thirty minutes. Be sure you look at your evaporator coil drain pipes often whenever your ac is jogging. If https://sites.google.com/view/aircon-servicing-singapore-2 hose backside up, you will find water damage and mold to your wall surfaces, ceilings and surfaces. If you end up with mold use a solution of chlorine bleach and normal water to clean up out the tube. Clean your filtration system! For those who have a windowpane unit ac unit, there will be a filtration correct under the bbq grill it is possible to vacuum. When you have a furnace or outside products, they will also have filters being cleaned out or replace. A filthy filtration system will make your system ineffective as well as permit it to overheat. Setting up a huge-home enthusiast can either awesome your home without using air conditioning or make your air conditioner more effective. It blows out all the heat which collects inside your attic room, and this air flow takes in in great air out of your cellar or higher into your property. Consider piece of art the outside of your house in the lighting color to reflect temperature living inside a popular weather conditions. If your summer months are cool, use a darkish colour to instead heat up your home in the winter. This easy alter can end up saving you plenty on the utility bills. Look at window ac units for your own home in case you are thinking about the installation of a key device. Do you will need to awesome your kitchen over night? Are you experiencing multiple flooring surfaces with just one housing bedrooms? To effectively and quickly and cheaply cool only exactly where folks are actually staying, home window products are a good selection. Speak to a person near to you to find out if they could advise an individual great to assistance their Heating and air conditioning device. Anyone who has earlier necessary work completed on his or her Heating and air conditioning model are very happy to tell you their experience. You may also get company brands that you ought to avoid. Make sure you remove up water that may be near the oxygen consumption of the air vents of your respective HVAC program. Clean up any water that is ranking around due to the fact normal water could cause fungus to simply expand. Some water accumulation is typical but if you're getting drinking water more often than once each and every six months time you may have an issue, so make contact with a HVAC tech. Look at how much time a licensed contractor has been in company prior to deciding to employ them. The longer they've been in your community, the much more likely these are to perform an excellent career. Travel by nighttime functions show up wherever folks haven't heard of them prior to, and they're just the companies you would like to steer clear of. Tend not to close your air vents. Always keep air flow vents open up and unblocked at all times. A lot of people assume that closing off of a vent helps you to save them money chilling costs. This is not true. It might really damage your HVAC method. Shutting down air vents might cause your cooling down coil to hold and injury the compressor. When normal water condenses on your own ac, it drips right into a pan and drain pipes out. This empty ought to be looked over consistently. If algae forms within the deplete series or maybe the empty range freezes, you could be set for some costly fixes. The drip pan could overflow triggering extensive harm to your ceilings. Examine the accreditation associated with a HVAC organization that you want to work with. Begin by ensuring that they may be completely accredited. They must be in conformity together with your state's enterprise regulations. Excellent HVAC organizations needs to be entirely covered with insurance. This can be to safeguard their business, their workers, as well as their consumers need to nearly anything take place while they are conducting a services at the home of a client. When your residence receives very hot during the summer time and you'd like to use your ac less often, think about a steel roof. It mirrors the temperature back up to the heavens, permitting your home to acquire less temperature on bright and sunny times. Because metal roofing are long lasting, you'll spend less on restoration and replacing expenses also. It is crucial that any licensed contractor you hire is knowledgeable about your model and make of HVAC device. Ask them what brands they assist most frequently and assess it to what you might have. In the event you can't locate a contractor that understands your manufacturer effectively, instead look at that has the best standing. When buying an Heating and air conditioning process coming from a licensed contractor, don't just purchase from the very first man or woman you discover. Do a little looking into initially. Be sure the particular person has been doing enterprise for a time. Though there are no guarantees, somebody who has existed for 10+ several years possibly needed to do something correct in which to stay the company. These suggestions ought to help you increase the working of the Heating and air conditioning method. You almost certainly already know that suddenly learning that the method isn't working effectively is extremely frustrating. Taking into consideration the repair costs makes stuff a whole lot worse. By utilizing the above details, you are able to stop this from occurring. Remember these tips when taking care of your Heating and air conditioning process.

[cherrydreamer]

Billy’s not a luddite, OK? 

His music taste may be firmly stuck in the 80s, but he's upgraded from tapes and CDs to listening to Ratt and  Mötley Crüe with a Spotify account now. And he has a phone. A smartphone. He had to be cajoled into getting it, but now he has it, he has to admit that he quite likes it.

He likes the dumb games. Especially the Scrabble one he's totally thrashing Max at (and OK maybe he's losing a little to Lucas, but his damn brother-in-law knows all these crazy clever science words that aren't in any dictionary Billy's ever come across so that doesn’t really count.)

He likes sending pictures to Steve when he's at work. Not even dirty ones, although he still does that a bit. No, he likes the GIFs. The fun snippets from movies and cute animal reaction shots. He likes it when Steve sends them back too.

He really likes the folder with all his photos in. Hundreds and hundreds of pictures of Steve. Lots of the two of them together, taken at arm's length. Landmarks and breathtaking views behind them, but Billy was only really looking at Steve when he took them.

There are even more of Steve on his own- Steve sipping on cocoa with a dot of cream on his nose, Steve hammering a nail into the wall with a toolbelt around his waist, Steve asleep on a lounger in their garden. One with Steve holding Paradise Kitty- Dicey for short- when they first brought her home from the shelter. Another later that evening of him asleep with Dicey curled up on his chest. That’s the one Billy set as his wallpaper.

So Billy gets technology, OK? He's not old or out of touch or anything like that. He just doesn't like the technology in cars. Steve's car, especially. Because that's gone too far. Steve has gone too far.

Because Steve got a new car with all the extras. He went and said yes to every single thing the sleazy salesman offered and didn't even try to haggle. So now his damn Beemer looks like the cockpit of the fucking Starship Enterprise, full of flashing lights and beeping alerts and screens, for God's sake, with these fancy cameras showing you what’s behind you, because apparently rich people don't want the bother of turning their fucking heads.

And normally this would all be fine. It’s very rare that Billy has to go in Steve’s car anyway, and yes, on those few occasions when he does he hates it and he’s very vocal about that, but at least he’s not the one who has to actually deal with the flashes and beeps.

But today his car is in the shop. And today one of them needs to go and get groceries. And today Steve is busy working from home. So. It’s happening. Billy is finally going to drive Steve’s car.

He immediately gets off to a bad start with Christine (named because she’s clearly possessed, and also because Gina the Beemer is a terrible name, Steve). He settles in and scoots the seat forward because not everyone has damn beanpole legs, and presses a button. A button. Doesn't even need to stick a key in a hole and that just feels wrong. 

The car beeps at him almost instantly, a little picture of a seat belt flashing up. 

“Jesus, I’m getting to it,” Billy grumbles at the screen. He figures that’s what controlling all of this, after all, “Fucking... let a guy settle in first.” And he has things to do. Like figure out how to connect his phone to the radio when there are no trailing wires and cords to plug in. 

But Christine beeps. Beep and flashes and beeps some more until Billy clicks the seatbelt in with a growl, “There. Fine. All strapped in nice and tight. Happy now?”

And she seems to be. She’s stopped beeping and flashing at least and left him in peace to finally get the stereo to see his phone. But then there’s another beep. A blip, actually, and the screen flares to life with a map and some demanding voice asks him to ‘input a destination’.

“Nope.” Billy jabs at the screen. The map does not go away. The voice asks again.

“I know how to get to the shop. I go every week. I don’t need you.” Billy punctatues each remark with a jab to the screen, clicking every single ‘x’ he can see until he finally gets the thing to shut up.

It doesn’t get any better once he starts driving. The map flares up anyway, a huge arrow showing him exactly where he is on the road, and then flashing a warning for upcoming heavy traffic.

“I know there’s traffic,” Billy hissed, turning the music up over the tinny pips of the notification, “It’s 4pm, there are school buses, there’s always traffic here. I know as much as you, you dumb car.”

He pokes at the screen again, managing to turn off the warning, and sits quite happily in the traffic that he definitely knew about and manages to get to the supermarket without many more distractions.

Until it’s time to park. And he decides to reverse in.

As soon as he flicks the stick to ‘R’, the reverse view camera fills the screen, showing him a stretch of asphalt and the trunk of a tree. Billy ignores it in favour of actually turning his head to look and see the exact same stretch of asphalt and the trunk of a tree.

And then Christine starts beeping again. Louder and faster the more he reverses. And that grates on Billy’s already tender nerves,

“I can damn well park by myself,” he growls, “Got a licence to prove it and everything. I was reverse parking before you were even a concept.” 

Christine’s beeping just increases in speed and shrillness. And then there’s a bump. A tiny tap as the back of the car oh-so-gently touches the little iron railing around the base of the tree. 

And that does not help Billy’s fraying nerves.

He’s thankful when he gets in the store. Mostly for the non-beeping shopping cart and the fact that it doesn’t try to direct him in a more practical route around the store, or warn him that he’s getting too close to a stack of paper towels. God, he’d take a wonky wheel and suspiciously sticky handles over Christine and her neurosis anyday. 

*

Billy loads all the groceries into the front seat. Not because he backed too close to the tree and he can’t open the trunk, but purely for convenience when they get home. Christine beeps again as soon as he’s in, and Billy scowls as he clicks his seatbelt in, “I’ll belt up and you shut up,” he mutters, but the beeps continue and the seatbelt sign still keeps flashing. So Billy unbuckles himself and tries again, even more dramatically this time. 

Still no change. Still beeping and flashing.

“I’m safe you fucker. LOOK!” He unclips the belt, waving the metal end in the air and then slowly and deliberately clipping it into place, “There. Happy?”

Christine is not. She beeps. She flashes. So Billy yells. He unclips again and stretches the seatbelt as far forward as he can, until the metal clip is tapping on the screen in the centre of the dashboard.

“Watch. Watch this. Beeping little shit.” He rams the clip in as hard as he can, “There. IN. It can’t go any more in,” he tugs wildly at the belt, showing exactly how securely fastened it is, “I’m in. I’m safe. I’m strapped down like its a goddamn straightjacket. I am going NOWHERE.”

He looks up to see a woman at the cart return looking at him with a worried expression, and Billy gives her a too-bright smile and a sarcastic wave until she turns around and dashes back to her car. Christine is still beeping.

“What the hell else do you want?” Billy grumbles, “I have my seatbelt on, I am doing what you asked I don’t know what more you can- oh!”

He reaches over to lift up the grocery bags from the passenger seat, and the beeping stops immediately, the flashing light disappearing from view.

“OH!” Billy smirks, dropping the bags back down and watching as the screen lights up again. He leans right over to buckle the passenger seatbelt over the bags, watching in delight as the car calms herself right back down again.

“Oh Christine” he tuts, shaking his head, “thought you knew it all, huh? Can’t even tell a carton of milk and some pasta from an actual, living human?” he smirks, drumming his fingers on the wheel as he pulls out of the parking space, “Fucking smart-tech my ass.” Billy’s a few miles down the road when he leans forward to try and skip a track on the radio, a pothole sending him lurching forward and causing him to accidentally brush against another button with his wrist. He’s not sure what he did, until a few minutes late. And that’s when Billy discovers the heated seats. And, ok, maybe there are some extras worth paying for.

[shinidamachu]

CHAPTER FIVE: Look Both Ways

SUMMARY: “and I’d choose you. In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.” – Kiersten White. For each chapter, a prompt from the One Hundred Ways to Say I Love You list.

WORDS: 1.847

GENRE: angst, fluff

FANDOM: Inukag

FORMAT: multichapter

ALSO FOUND ON: AO3, FF.Net

Kagome wished she had chosen lower heels. Wished Sango had picked out a less crowded place to celebrate her twenty-third birthday. Wished she wasn’t so acutely conscious of Inuyasha’s voice, rising above the resounding music of the dark, cramped club to call out her name while she struggled to make an exit.

Mostly, Kagome wished she hadn’t come. Wished she hadn’t fallen so hard for him when his heart belonged to someone else. Wished she hadn’t just seen him kissing Kikyo. Wished her mind would take the damn scene off repeat. 

Wished she had never met him.

“Kagome!”

She wouldn't stop, wouldn’t turn. 

Hopefully, the sea of sweaty, drunk bodies between them would give her enough advantage to escape, to race the inevitable tears home.

“Kagome, wait up!”

Inuyasha was getting closer. Dangerously closer.

But so was the door.

Autumn air welcomed her out with a gentle blow, the city lights casting a colorful glow on the streets where it had just briefly rained. Kagome released a shaky breath, grateful for the temperature change and more than happy to leave all the noise behind.

Inuyasha caught up to her in a split second, making a point out of blocking her way and causing her to step aside with every intention to ignore his presence and keep going, which she would have done if he hadn’t mirrored her move, obstructing the passage once again.

“Let me by,” ordered Kagome, the words dripping out of her gritted teeth as she lifted her gaze to shoot invisible daggers at him.

Inuyasha’s features, initially worried, hardened into a scowl — an immediate response to her sour mood.

“No. We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing left to say.”

Kagome tried to walk past him, but a firm arm grip made her turn around.

“Why the fuck are you so upset?” Inuyasha was already facing her. Nostrils flared, mouth in a severe line. 

“I’m not upset!”

“Good! ‘Cause you have no right to be.”

“Great,” she snapped, “then run back to your girlfriend and let me go!” For emphasis, she forcefully pulled the arm Inuyasha was still holding, wanting to break free from his touch and failing miserably to do so.

“No. No! This is bullshit. You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to act like I’m breaking your heart. You were the one who turned me down. This is what you wanted. Not me. You!”

“That’s not the point. The point is I knew you were still hung up on your ex. And I was right! It took you, what? Five whole minutes to shove your tongue down her throat?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

She scoffed.

“Of course it wasn’t. Let me guess: I must have imagined it. It didn’t mean anything. You were thinking about me the entire time. It will never happen ag—”

“Why do you care?”

“What?”

“Why do you care?” He repeated, taking one step forward to reduce the poor excuse of personal space between them by half, as if expecting her answer would eradicate the remaining. “I asked you to be my girlfriend. You said no.”

“Yeah, because I didn’t want to be a detour on your path back to Kikyo, not because I didn’t lo—”

“Not because you didn’t what?” Inuyasha sounded expectant. Hopeful, even. And the nearer he got, the smaller she felt in comparison, suddenly aware of her outfit choice. Perhaps if she had gone with a set of clothes that revealed less skin she wouldn’t be feeling so utterly naked under his gaze. Or perhaps it wasn’t about the clothing at all. Perhaps it was just the effect he had over her: that he was the only one who could see right through her. “Finish the sentence, Kagome.”

A part of her wanted to. Dangerously wanted to. Even if it wasn’t wise. Even if it could only end badly. Even if weighing the pros and cons got her to the same conclusion again and again. Because Inuyasha was an addiction. Her favorite kind. Kagome knew it wasn’t good for her health and yet she would always indulge in one more drag, telling herself it would be her last, that she could quit him whenever she pleased. And she was so damn sick of being cautious, giving in seemed inescapable.

Until she remembered Kikyo’s hand tangled up in his hair, her lips on his. Far from being something she could unsee, it was a constant reminder of why Kagome had been right about rejecting him to begin with.

“It doesn’t matter. You’ve made your decision, I made mine. There’s no going back. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go home.”

“You can’t leave! It’s Sango’s birthday.”

“She wasn’t expecting me to come, anyway.”

“Because of me?”

Inuyasha was dead on money, of course. Sango was the person she confided everything to, including her complicated feelings for Inuyasha, their mutual friend. Which was why the birthday girl was completely understanding when Kagome told her she wasn’t coming to the party. To stay in the same room as Inuyasha was tempting. And confusing. She should have stuck to the plan instead of showing up at the eleventh hour.

Not that she would ever tell him that.

“Don't flatter yourself.”

“I’m not. I’m just saying I didn’t expect you to come, either.”

“That’s why you kissed her? Because you thought I wouldn’t see it?” Kagome hated how her voice cracked at the end, hated the fact that she was so irrationally jealous of someone who wasn’t hers. “You know what? Don’t answer that. I don’t wanna know.”

Inuyasha appeared to be on the verge of insanity.

“You’re... impossible!”

“Let go of me or I’ll start screaming.”

“Fine,” groaning in frustration, Inuyasha finally released her arm, “be as stubborn as you fucking want. I don’t owe you any explanations.”

“No, you don’t,” she agreed, throwing him a final, defying look before leaving Inuyasha, that cursed club and that terrible night behind, lost in thoughts of anger and self pity and the contradiction of simultaneously not wanting to see his face and wishing he would chase after her.

Then everything happened too soon, too fast.

A deafening honk transported her back to the present, to the busy street Kagome was carelessly crossing. She turned to find blinding headlights coming straight toward her. Thousandths of seconds passed. Maybe hours. It was difficult to tell the difference when they were currently one and the same.

Her brain stopped working, but not without registering the sound of his voice first, crying out her name more desperately than she had ever heard. She would have replied, however her body didn’t obey her anymore — frozen right there, waiting for her impending fate.

There was no time for anything other than the fatal collision.

An impact that never came.

Inuyasha reached Kagome before the bus ever could, pushing her out of the way and into the safety of the sidewalk with him. The landing wasn’t gracious. He absorbed most of the fall — acting as a half demon shield to protect her fragile human bones — and the impact created by the combination of his supernatural speed and strength sent them rolling over the hard ground, with Inuyasha somehow ending up on top of her.

As the state of stupor subdued, she grew mildly aware of the horrified gasps and whispers of the curious bystanders. Apparently Kagome had just escaped a deadly traffic accident, the bus that almost did it was long gone and Inuyasha saved her life. He was the reason she was still breathing. Or, rather than breathing, panting. And shaking. Really shaking, now that the severity of the situation dawned on her.

His wild eyes stared at her with unnerving intensity, an emotion she couldn’t quite name pouring out of them, raw and earnest. Kagome wasn’t sure whether to thank him or apologize, idly wondering if the incandescence of those golden irises reflected on hers now that they were teary, just like the city lights reflected on the pavement from before. Did it look as beautiful to others as it did to her?

“Inuyasha, t—”

“Damn it, Kagome! Look both ways!”

Any inclination to wave a white flag at him vanished when confronted with his rude remarks. Couldn’t he be gentle for once, at least to receive her gratitude?

“Will you stop being a jerk and let me thank you properly?”

Kagome might as well not have spoken. Inuyasha got off her and pulled himself to a sitting stand, bluntly bringing her with him in the process to make his irritation pretty clear.

“Do you have any idea of what I’d do if—” Inuyasha drifted off, as if he couldn’t bear to say the thought out loud. Next thing she knew, he had her cloistered inside the tightest, most soothing hug. “Don’t you ever do something like that again.”

Taken aback, Kagome allowed herself to return the gesture, relieved to be held in his embrace, listening to the frantic pace of his heart.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

Inuyasha let go of her to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, allowing her to see how softer his expression had gotten. His button down shirt — sleeves casually rolled up to his elbows — was covered in dirt.

“Kikyo had one too many drinks,” he began. “I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me. And…” Inuyasha had the decency to look guilty. “I let her. And I know I shouldn’t have. I guess… I guess it was my crooked way to get back at you,” he confessed. “To hurt you the way you hurt me. But I never meant for you to see it. You weren’t supposed to be there.” Inuyasha moved his palm, slowly stroking down her cheek. “And honestly, I didn’t think you’d care.”

“You didn’t think I’d care? How could I not?”

“I thought you were using Kikyo as an excuse to let me down gently. Because anyone with half a brain can see you’re it for me. Well, anyone but you, obviously.”

“Really?” Kagome let out, not caring in the slightest how much she sounded like a child suggesting a pinky promise.

Inuyasha nodded.

“I’m sorry about tonight. I’d take it back if I could. But it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

“Yeah?” Kagome smiled and Inuyasha leaned in, taking advantage of her mood improvement — and the fact that his hand was still resting on her face — to close the gap between them.

Realizing his intentions, she placed two fingers on his lips to refrain his advances, hating the heat burning her face and the way he blinked in confusion.

“Not… not on the same night you kissed her.”

“Fair enough,” he sighed, standing up at last and offering her a helping hand that was promptly accepted, “but I am taking you home. Can’t trust you to walk around alone without getting yourself killed.”

“Sure, yeah,” conceded Kagome, unable and unwilling to hide her excitement, “absolutely.”

“And tomorrow we’re going out for dinner,” he informed, “then I will kiss you senseless.”

A/N.: as of this moment I am 5% done with this fanfic... Looking back, perhaps starting a 100 prompts challenge wasn’t my brightest idea.

Anyway. Happy birthday to my fantastic girl @lavendertwilight89​ I didn’t have time to write a more elaborated piece like you deserve, but at least I did write you something. And on time too! I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoy being your friend. Love you so, so much!

[jarvisisbetterthansiri]

Only Human (sex pollen)

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader Word count: 2143 Description: Despite being with Pepper, Tony is only human, and when you are both hit with sex pollen, he can’t control himself Warnings: *NSFW* Dub-con (due to sex pollen), smut, infidelity, overstimulation, dirty talk, unprotected sex ~ soft!reader + dom!Tony

A/N: Yes, this has been posted before, it’s still me, I accidentally deleted my account, so I’m just moving to here, and re-uploading my fics I had saved on Google Docs so they haven’t gone to waste. Hope this isn’t too confusing.

---

---

“Y/N, sweetie, can I borrow your hands for a few minutes?”

A slight blush makes its way onto your cheeks at the pet name, and you nod up at Tony Stark - your boss. Your very hot but sadly, engaged, boss.

Your job at Stark Tower consisted of bouncing between offices, making coffee, and helping with the filing. Not that you would complain, it was secure as you could ask for, and the pay was good. Also, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy spending time in the presence of Mr Stark, even if it was from a distance.

He moves towards a glass door, scanning his print for access, and you scurry behind before the door can shut on you.

“Just need you to help carry,” he squints at the cabinet, pulling out a key, “a few things. Careful. Don’t touch anything.”

You cringe at this, eyes widening at the objects locked in the shelves, bright warnings plastered on them: explosive, toxic, bio hazard, corrosive, radiation. Fuck.

Tony holds out a hand, passing you a small flask of dangerously pink liquid. And then the unthinkable happens - your hands shake with nerves, glass slipping through your clammy fingers, and smash.

“Shit!” you gasp, eyes wide as Tony mimics your expression. “I’m so sorry Mr Stark, I-”

“Goddammit!” his voice is raised, almost a growl, “F.R.I.D.A.Y, restrict access to this floor and evacuate the offices.”

He crouches to the floor, reading the label, and curses again, “Increase ventilation and purify the air in this room.”

“I’m so sorry Sir, I didn’t mean to,” you apologise, chest tightening, tears pricking your eyes. 

Tony replies instantly, accusatory, “I told you not to touch anything.” Then he fishes in his pockets for a phone.

“I - it was an accident - I,” you stammer, stopping when he raises a hand, pressing the cell to his ear.

You step back, eyeing the spilled liquid. It was locked away. You’d had it in your hand. And you...dropped it. It was locked away. With the rest of the dangerous items. You really fucked up this time. 

“Banner,” Tony speaks, clearing his throat, “yeah, I know. We had an incident.” Brown eyes glance over to you, sighing, “I didn’t - I don’t have time to argue right now. How long until the effects set in? Son of a bitch.”

He slams the phone on the table, fists clenching.

“What...what is it? Are we gonna die?” you manage to get the words out, hot tears spilling down your cheeks. 

You were so stupid.

Tony freezes, frowning, “You’re not gonna die. Look at me, we’re fine.”

“I’m so sorry Mr Stark,” you say again, and it’s true. More than anything, you can’t stand the thought of disappointing him. 

He offers a smile, kind eyes now like you were used to, “I know you are sweetie, it’s fine. You’re not gonna get in trouble. We’re good.” 

Is it getting hotter, or is it just your imagination? You tug at your shirt uncomfortably, “So what...what is it?”

Now Tony is the one who looks uncomfortable, avoiding eye contact, “It...it’s something we found on an alien ship - a kind of aphrodisiac.”

“Aphrodisiac?” You repeat, hoping you heard wrongly.

He swallows, leaning against the table for support, “We know the species was...well, a lot larger than we are. So, we don’t know exactly the effects but it releases hormones, so extreme arousal.”

There’s a moment of silence, and a wave of dizziness swims over you. Something hangs in the air, a spicy and heavy scent, and suddenly there's a prickling heat clawing its way through your body. 

Your breathing gets harsher, “Why is it so hot, Mr Stark?”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, the temperature?”

“Seventy six degrees Fahrenheit,” the automated voice rings out through the speakers. But no, that can’t be right.

Tony groans, and your thighs clench at the sound, “Fuck.”

His eyes find you, and he drops his head, moving back, “Probably gonna want to stay over there, sweetie.”

The nickname has you gasping for breath, and a high pitched whine makes its way out of your throat. A dull ache spreads through your core as you watch Tony across the room; cheeks flushing at the way his pants strain against his bulge. 

“How long?” 

“Huh?”

You moan, shifting to the floor, fingers fiddling with the bottom of your shirt, “How long will it...will it feel like this?”

Tony pants, eyes fixed on your thighs, which he noted were rubbing together incessantly now, “All estimates...theory is to work it out.”

“Work it….oh,” a sense of dread settles in your stomach, “You mean…”

He nods, gesturing to the table, “Just, I’m gonna be,” turning his back to you, “so you can...however you need to.”

You stare at his back for a second, making out the movement of his arm moving up and down, then feel a pang of guilt at your actions and turn away. Tony was engaged, you shouldn’t be looking.

At this point, your clothing sticks to you oppressively, and you hastily unfasten the buttons of your blouse, shrugging out of it. Another wave of arousal hits and you inhale sharply, unable to even breathe when every movement has your nipples brushing against your bra, and your pussy throbbing with want.

Shakily, you press a finger to your bud, circling it roughly, moaning in a voice that hardly sounds like your own. With every rub you feel yourself becoming more overstimulated, thighs sticky with arousal but it isn’t enough. Fingers slip easily into your core, thrusting against the right spot but it isn’t working. And everything is too hot, too clammy, too much.

Tony groans, fisting his cock furiously. This was not how he’d planned to spend his evening. He was supposed to have a dinner reservation with Pep - he closes his eyes at the thought of her. 

It wasn’t right to be doing this; jacking off just meters away from his sweet young secretary. His thumb drags along his length and he shudders when he hears those desperate little sounds coming from your direction. It definitely wasn’t right to be picturing what you were doing to make those sounds, either. He should be thinking about his fiance, he tells himself, willing to recall how Pepper blowed him just last night.

But then he’s thinking of your lips, and how pretty they’d look sucking on his thumb while he fucked into you. Was it the aphrodisiac? 

“Mr Stark, this isn’t working. I can’t,” he could hear you sobbing now, and turns.

Tony’s breath catches. You’re laying back, skirt hitched up your slick legs, shirt unbuttoned, if you had been wearing a bra, it was gone now too. He’s startled by how scared you look, and just as frustrated at the fact he could do nothing to help either of you.

“I don’t...I don’t know what you want me to tell you, Y/N,” he clears his throat, tearing his eyes from your form, trying not to focus on how wet your fingers are.

You let out a cry of frustration, fists hitting off your thighs, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t...it’s my fault.”

“It’s gonna be okay,” Tony starts, ignoring the throbbing of his cock. “We’ve got this.”

“No, I can’t, my fingers aren’t working,” you whimper, “I need…”

Tony glances at his ring finger, swallowing any second thoughts, and lets himself look at you. It isn’t cheating, he tells himself. You’re in pain, he’s in pain, what else could he do? 

“Tell me what you need,” his words are syrup, thick with desire as he wraps his rough fingers around your wrist, the smallest contact sparking you to moan again.If you’d been dizzy before, you were sure you’d pass out now. 

God, you want to die. You can’t imagine a worse situation than the one you’re in now - what are you supposed to say? That you need him to fuck you? You couldn’t.

He moves closer though, finger pressing into your chin, forcing you to look into those honey eyes and see the lust in them, “Tell me. Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

“I can’t,” you protest weakly, shame eating away at your burning cheeks, “What about-”

“Don’t,” Tony cuts you off, not wanting to think about her right now. Not when you were looking up at him with those doe eyes, exposed all pretty for him. He lets his hand run down your side and squeezes at the curve of your exposed thigh, then adds firmly, “You can. Right now, tell me what you need.”

The words almost wont leave your lips, and you swallow thickly, “I need it. I need you.”

There’s a hint of amusement in his face behind the desperation you’re both feeling, “I gotta hear you say it, Princess.”

“Please Mr Stark,” you cry, fists clenching as the ache between your legs becomes so intense you think you might die.

Tony groans at your neediness and sits on the floor, pulling his cock from the painful confines of his pants. You feel all of the moisture leave your mouth at the sight - larger than your ex’s, swollen head glistening.

The amount of nights you’d pictured this exact scene while you touched yourself, and now it was real. Fuck.He motions for you to straddle him and you obey, crying out when his length grazes your clit. Tony’s breath is quick and shallow, nails digging into your thighs as he struggles to ground himself. 

Then, as much as he would love to pull you onto his cock right now, he restrains, “Do you need my fingers first?”

You shake your head, “No, just need you. Please.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs, and in an instant he’s pushing into you, “Fuck, you’re drenched.”

Another thrust, and you’re a mess, scrambling to hold onto his shoulders. If it wasn’t for his grip on you, you’re pretty sure you’d have collapsed already. Despite not being completely innocent, the sensation of being speared by his cock, of being stretched and filled, has you struggling for air.

Tony almost uses your body, forcing you up and down, watching your tits bounce and the look of bliss on your face. God, he couldn’t get enough of that look. Every thrust is harder to get more of that face and your needy little gasps.

“Feels so good, Mr Stark,” you babble, stars in your vision, and this seems to do it for him, judging by the way he pumps into you faster than you even thought possible.

Before you can even speak, you feel his fingers make their way to your nub, rubbing circles. And oh god, it feels so good, but it’s so much. You spasm, clamping down on his cock, crying in ecstasy.

Then, the throbbing in your core is subsiding, and you suppose the effects of the plant are wearing off. But Tony isn’t stopping, his cock pounding into you with a force that makes you choke, hands trying to push off of him. You’re too raw, too sensitive, and the pleasure is so good it hurts.

He notices and stutters his movements for a second, hand moving from your clit and finding its way to your shoulder, keeping you in place, “I just need a little longer, can you do that for me sweets?”

“Yes,” you sob, letting him slam into you again.

Tony pushes your hair out of your face, chasing his own release, “Fuck. Such a good girl for me.”

You nod, using your hips to match his movements weakly, and he sits up to place a sloppy kiss to your lips.

“Fuck,” he groans into your ear - what has to be the hottest thing you’ve ever heard in your life, “you take cock like it’s your day job, babe. Think you might be in the wrong career.”

The familiar knot is building in your core again, and you let your hand guide his back to your clit, wanting more. He curses at the action, and starts palming you desperately, feeling himself getting closer.

“Oh god,” the words fall from your lips in a voice that is as wrecked as you feel. 

The next moments are fuzzy, and you clench down, back arching as you feel Tony spend himself in you. It’s a sort of warm feeling, and you fall onto his sweaty chest when he releases his grip on you. 

The room is silent apart from the sounds of heavy breathing slowing to normal. Tony lets an arm drape over your body, an action that should be comforting, but then you feel it.

Warm metal on your skin. A ring, his ring, his engagement ring. The guilt comes then, and he feels you freeze, tears falling onto his chest.

What have you done?

[swaglexander-the-great]

Yakuza: Like A Dragon

I just watched the 2007 Yakuza: Like a Dragon film and DEAR GOD I need to share this experience (Spoilers, of course)

Firstly, this film just... makes NO sense. Some (MAIN) characters are not connected to each other in any way. Who are they? No explanation. Why are they here? Who Knows. Just watch them go heat mad from 32 degrees celsius and rob various stores until one of them gets shot. She breaks the news to her boyfriend that she is mortally wounded by saying ‘i will never have ur kids’ (they have never discussed children, and are like 18). The bf is, understandably baffled by this choice of words to explain a fatal bullet wound

There is a masochistic guy who Majima beats up in a basement, and to get to said basement, Majima deadlifts a door off the wall to reveal an elevator. This guy also gets punched by Kiryu and LOVES it

Bank robbery that is drawn out throughout the whole plot, but literally doesn’t go anywhere. It’s just two dudes going heat mad because something (God??) broke the air con during their heist

Kiryu’s Ass. This man has cake for DAYS. It deflects the rubble of a skyscraper at one point.

 (^^kiryu’s distractingly huge ass)

5. it took me 90% of the movie to figure out 3 depressed men in a bar were meant to be Kiryu’s host friends

6. Nishikiyama is only in the movie for 2.5 seconds and looks like an absolute, total geed

(^ my sleep paralysis demon)

7. Date-san is jarringly tall 8|

8. Apparently everyone in the city is going mad from global warming and a 3 degree raise in the overall temperature, and to combat this, Haruka chugs water.

9. Kiryu walks into a bar and three people bow on instinct alone

10. Korean assassins appear for some reason?? One of them serves drinks to 20+ policemen trapped in a 45 degree van, which has a loony-tunes style heat gauge in it

11. Majima finds a shotgun and straight up obliterates like 6 people

12. Scenes are cut into weird stop motion sometimes?? Why?? It’s usually with Majima, so maybe he just Moves Like That

13. Kiryu takes haruka, a little girl, to a brothel. The doorman leads him into a bar with a couch facing a curtain. Kiryu feels a ping in his spider-senses and dives behind the couch. At the sound of a gong, the curtain opens to reveal Majima on a golden pimp throne with a shotgun as his men fire at the now Kiryu-less couch. Majima rebukes kiryu: You brought a CHILD to a BrOTHEL??

(Glory Be)

14. Majima and Kiryu cock empty shotguns at each other for 10 seconds straight. They also punch each other in the face in what seems like an unbreakable loop for the same amount of time.

15. This Iconic moment

(what does your Eye Patch see, Majima-san?)

16. Majima smacks baseballs into Kiryu’s firm abs until the guy who throws the baseballs fucking dies. I’m pretty sure this is some sort of test, and if Kiryu passes, he gets Majima’s hand in marriage.

17. Kiryu passes the test, which leads us to whatever THIS scene is

(yes, that is a mirror ceiling in the top picture [ft. kiryu’s bubble butt], and yes, there is far too much weird grunting in this scene)

18. It is at this point that the tone of the film goes from artistically bizarre to confusingly horny (including one whole scene of Nishiki just walking and stripping off his clothes)

(get ur hand off Kiryu’s thicc bountiful ass, Nishiki)

19. Three major characters (Nishiki, Yumi, and Jingu) appear in the final 10 minutes with probably 1 line of dialogue to build up who they are through the entire film, only all to be immediately killed. I may, however, have become confused, as Nishiki, Jingu and Kazama’s names were all translated as Sanada (??) and Yumi was translated as... Jenny even though you could HEAR THEM SAYING THE NAMES.

21.  Kazama’s name was also translated to Majima, and then finally to Kazuro for some fucking reason

22. There is no explanation to why or how the ten billion is stolen. It just Was. The how is the most confusing part, as it is not a digital transaction, it is literally a comedically huge pile of cash as per the game

23. A helicopter causes a magnitude 6.1 earthquake and just casually smashes through some buildings, but is undamaged. Majima’s masochistic basement slut prays to be crushed by the helicopter earthquake. It also vibrates Majima back to life after he’s shot by Kiryu’s dad for sitting on Kiryu’s face (see above)

24. A very dramatic scene of Kiryu drinking an energy drink while the seven grown men who surround him scream

(he then bursts into flame)

25. The Korean assassins assassinate Jingu who is literally onscreen for 1 second. Yumi now blows herself up for no reason. Kiryu does not try to stop her. Kiryu respects her resolve, and his enormous cake saves him and Haruka from being crushed by the resulting rubble

26. majima just crawls out through karumocho to the batting cages to dramatically die on their stairs. His drama is foiled by a sneeze, and he realizes he is in fact not dying, but may have just caught a cold.

27. Kiryu absolutely seems to love Majima even though Majima literally murders people, beats him to a pulp, and tries to actually kill him.

28. It is never explained who Kazama is. He just appears out of the blue, and vanishes into money-filled mist at the end.

29. The violence swings between goofy gags and actually good fighting (classic yakuza), nothing is explained unless you’ve played the game, kiryu, the main protagonist spends half his time wandering around aimlessly with a girl and a dog (not explained why he has acquired these, at some point in the movie they just Appear), and at one point I think it turned into a musical so briefly that it seems like I imagined that scene

30. All in all 10/10, would watch again. Please, somebody make a friend who has never played Yakuza watch this and see what they make of it

[rocorambles]

Taming A Cat

Pairing: Prostitute Kuroo x Mafia Boss Daichi 

Warnings: Yandere, Edging, Overstimulation, Dub-Con, Rape/Non-Con, Sex Toys, Bondage, Degradation, Mind Break, Violence, Torture, Pet Play, Manipulation

Summary: Medical student by day, prostitute by night, Kuroo thinks his luck has finally changed when he meets a wealthy businessman named Daichi who offers to financially support him in exchange for his body. He learns the hard way that it’s not always wise to seize opportunities that fall too easily in your lap. 

OR 

The prostitute Kuroo and mafia boss Daichi AU no one asked for.  

Kuroo stares at the ceiling, mentally urging the man pounding into him to finish quickly as he lets out fake moans that would make any pornstar proud. With a few clenches and some expertly woven flattery of how good he’s feeling, he has the man on top of him climaxing within seconds and he gives himself a few lazy strokes to reach his own peak. Kuroo winces at the feeling of a softening cock being dragged out of his used hole, but he plasters a coy smile as he gets up and flirtatiously caresses the older businessman. Only when the door closes behind his client does the smile fall from his face as he plops back down on the bed. He lies there, uncaring of his naked state and the drying cum on his stomach until a security guard opens the door to make sure he’s still alive and to let him know he’s free to go since his time is up. With a thankful sigh of relief, the messy haired man quickly wipes the sticky substance off his chest and slips on sweatpants and a t-shirt before limping back home, biting the inside of his cheek every time his abused hole is jostled too much by his movements. 

He takes a scalding hot shower as soon as he enters his small apartment (not that he feels any cleaner afterwards no matter how high he makes the temperature) and quickly transitions into his second role of Kuroo Tetsurou, medical school student, as he dutifully pores over textbooks and notes. And that pretty much sums his life. Studious medical student by day, a whore at night. He laughs bitterly at the thought, but his lifelong desire to be a doctor who helps others keeps him motivated. There’s no way he could afford medical school tuition without his night job. His single father is already stretched thin providing for his grandparents and he knows if he asked, his father would sacrifice that much more to help him out, but he can’t bear to bother him. Not when he sees the ever growing dark circles under his father’s eyes. Not when he sees his father’s thinning, graying hair. No, he’s going to get through this himself and when he becomes a successful doctor, he will finally be able to give back to his family who has already done so much for him. Determined, he continues clacking on his keyboard and highlighting text. 

Life continues on and he keeps up the double act, but one day as he enters the brothel he works at, he’s confused by the flurry of movements and excited energy in the air. He gently grasps the arm of one of his co-workers as she scurries past him and when he questions her, she merely says “important guests” before she’s running off. With a shrug, he enters his assigned room and prepares for another long night. Stretched out and bare, aside from a silk red robe, he patiently waits on his bed. He props himself on his side seductively as the door opens, but is momentarily shocked by the handsome figure who enters. He’s...different from his other clients. Dark brown eyes, not much older than himself (maybe early 30s), handsome face, and god...those thighs. Kuroo can feel himself salivate as he eyes the impressively thick muscular build of his client. “Hi, you can call me Kitty. I’m looking forward to playing with you tonight,” he purrs as the other man begins to undress. His heart rate increases when the now completely unclothed man joins him on the bed and gently, but firmly pushes Kuroo down until he’s flat on the mattress. “What a pretty kitty. You can call me master tonight then, sweetheart.” 

Kuroo shudders as the man begins to harshly suckle and nip his neck and he breathily warns him not to leave marks. With a grunt of acknowledgement, the man changes his pace and gently kisses his shoulders and collarbone instead as he deftly unties the robe hiding Kuroo’s figure. Kuroo’s back arches and he moans as a mouth begins to play with his already aroused nipples. “Kitty’s so sensitive. This is going to be a lot of fun.” A pang of annoyance flickers through Kuroo at the words and amused smirk on the man’s lips, but it’s quickly doused by arousal when the man intensifies his actions on the sensitive buds and Kuroo throws his head back as he whimpers. He’s been with countless men and women at this point, but everyone has always just used him as a warm sex doll to get off with. This is the first time someone has sought to give him pleasure and he sinks into the deliriously delicious feeling. 

He’s embarrassed by the petulant whine that leaves his mouth when the man ceases his actions, but he wails when his client grabs his fully erect cock and fondles his tip that’s already glistening with pre-cum. “Does kitty want master to make him feel good?” Kuroo whimpers and looks at the handsome stranger with pleading eyes, but the man just smirks before playfully slapping Kuroo’s throbbing length. “Good kitties purr when their masters ask them something.” And that’s all it takes before a litany of incoherent begging streams out of Kuroo’s mouth. “Master, please! Make kitty feel good. Please use kitty however you want. Please fill me. Please play with me.” Kuroo is shaking his hips desperately and the stranger groans at the wanton sight. He begins to finger the writhing man, but hisses when he realizes the hole is already stretched and prepped with lube. “Fuck, what a good kitty. He got all ready for master. Is kitty that desperate for cock? Can’t wait to be filled?” “Yes, yes, yes!” Kuroo nods frantically as he flips over onto his forearms and knees, arching his back and raising his hips in offering. 

Kuroo screams as heavy smacks hit his exposed ass and he feels so vulnerable as his weeping length bounces with every hit. “What an impatient kitty,” sneers the other man as he continues bringing down his palm, enjoying the growing red painting the once unmarred skin. Only when Kuroo has completely collapsed onto the bed sobbing with only his hips lifted by the man’s hold does he stop. But Kuroo only gets one shaky breath in before he’s clawing at the sheets and screaming again when his client enters him in one swift motion. There’s a pause as the man adjusts to the tight heat, but it’s not long before he starts a brutal pace grinning as the beauty beneath him practically mewls in pleasure at the stimulation. Pain and pleasure are tightly entangling Kuroo in their grasps and he can’t think as the thick shaft inside of him constantly rubs against his prostate. A particularly harsh thrust has his body move just enough for his bouncing cock to brush against the sheets beneath him and that’s all it takes for him to splatter white strings on the bedding and his stomach. His body goes completely limp as he lets the man treat him as a ragdoll as he chases his own end, but Kuroo yelps as his body is being turned over and he gasps as his client paints his torso with sticky strands before slumping down on the sheets besides the spent prostitute. They lay there for a few minutes relishing in the afterglow, but a knock at his door has them getting up as his client gets ready to leave. This time, Kuroo doesn’t have to fake the smile he sends to the departing man. 

The man becomes a regular client in Kuroo’s roster and although the sex is still mind-blowing, the sessions become more intimate as they cuddle in each other’s arms after some rounds and share about their lives. Well, Kuroo does most of the sharing while the other man (Daichi, he reveals in one of their later appointments) listens, but Kuroo figures Daichi’s just a quiet man and continues to ramble on as Daichi strokes gentle circles into Kuroo’s aching hips. Their arrangement continues smoothly until one night while Daichi is unrobing the tanned man beneath him, he freezes at the sight of mottled black, blue, and purple hickeys trailing down Kuroo’s neck. Jealousy rages through Daichi and he slams the startled hazel-eyed man down onto the bed. “Who the fuck did this? Who the fuck left marks on you?” seethes Daichi. Confusion quickly morphs into anger and Kuroo scathingly retorts, “Have you forgotten what I am Daichi? I’m a whore. I do have other clients besides you-” He’s about to say more when lips crash against his and he’s shocked into silence. Kissing is against his policies and he scrambles to push Daichi away, but the stockier man refuses to budge as he pulls away and stares intensely into his eyes. 

“What would it take for me to be your only client?” Kuroo stares wide-eyed and flounders to find words to reply with, but before he even has the chance to try saying anything, Daichi cuts in. “If you live with me and promise that I have exclusive rights to your body, I’ll cover all your living expenses, your tuition, and anything else you could possibly want. In return, you belong to me. Your body belongs to me. Whenever I call you, you come. Whatever I ask you to do, you do.” Kuroo stills. He wants to be angry, he really does. How dare some person come waltzing in asking to own him like he’s some pet? But when he looks back into brown eyes, his heart is tugged by the gentleness and affection he sees in them. He thinks of the nights they’ve spent together. Would it be so bad to be solely with one man he’s already feeling himself fall for? Wouldn’t it be better to devote himself to Daichi instead of being used by countless men every night? Sensing his hesitation, Daichi gently grabs Kuroo by the chin and places a tender kiss on his lips and that’s the last push that has Kuroo tumbling over a cliff as he accepts Daichi’s offer and enthusiastically returns the kiss. 

Stunned is an understatement for how Kuroo feels when Daichi arrives with a moving truck and an entire crew packs up all his things without him even needing to say a word or lift a hand to help. Brows furrowed, he embarrassedly tells Daichi they could have moved his stuff together and that he didn’t need to pay for all this, but Daichi just smiles at him as he grabs his hand and pulls him to his car. Kuroo doesn’t know much about automobiles, but he can smell and feel how expensive the sports car he climbs into is. The drive is comfortable and he enjoys the chance to converse with Daichi outside of sweat-soaked bed sheets, but his jaw drops when they reach Daichi’s residence. It’s a gated property and he stares bemused at the amount of security stationed around the perimeter and the size of the mansion they’re driving up to. “Alright, who are you and is this whole place really yours?” Daichi laughs at the confused kitten besides him and ruffles his messy bed hair. “I’m just a businessman who fell into some good fortune and yes, it’s just you and me here. I do have a lot of business partners and associates visiting and staying from time-to-time as well, hence the size, but make yourself at home.”   

And it really does begin to feel like home as months pass. Kuroo continues studying and attending classes during the day, but his nights and weekends are entirely Daichi’s. Not that he’s complaining when he’s overtaken by pleasure as Daichi worships and uses his body as he pleases. Living with the handsome man, sharing meals with him, and sleeping together in his bed has Kuroo constantly forgetting that this is technically an arrangement and aside from the hefty sum that’s added to Kuroo’s bank account on a weekly basis, it’s easy to fall into a domestic rhythm and to think of Daichi as his boyfriend. 

However, once in a while, doubt creeps into Kuroo’s mind about their situation when Daichi gives him strict orders to stay put in their shared bedroom and not to step foot outside for any reason. Daichi assures him it’s just because he has important business meetings being held in their home and although still a little suspicious, Kuroo accepts the reasoning. He figures Daichi wouldn’t know how to explain Kuroo’s presence if he did run into his business partners and prefers to keep their arrangement a secret. Today is one of those days and Daichi places a gentle kiss on his forehead before departing with a warning to stay inside their room. Kuroo sighs and lies back down on the plush mattress, preparing for another long boring night alone and cooped up. Luckily it is fairly late, so he decides to just go to sleep. Just when his eyelids start to become heavy and his breathing begins to even out, he’s startled awake by a loud bang. Groggily sitting in bed, Kuroo carefully listens and flinches as he hears more loud noises and was that a scream? He cautiously exits the bedroom and gingerly follows the sounds unsure why cold sweat is forming on his temples and why his hands feel so clammy. A part of him screams for him to just go back and pretend he didn’t hear anything, but his feet continue their trek. Curiosity killed the cat afterall. 

He peers through a slightly ajar door and he has to hold back the scream that threatens to claw out of his throat. There’s blood everywhere. Kuroo can smell the metallic scent permeating the room and he dry heaves at the sight of the wailing, mutilated figure chained up in the middle of what he had thought were just Daichi’s security guards. But he quietly whimpers when he sees the men he’s seen every day here at the mansion and become friends with taking turns stabbing and cutting the body in the center. “That’s enough. Now are you ready to talk or not?” Kuroo freezes at the all too familiar voice echoing throughout the chamber and as if he’s in a dream, he slowly turns his head unbelievingly until he spies a familiar sturdy figure seated in a chair in the corner of the room. The same figure who has caressed him every night. The same figure who lovingly kisses him without fail every morning. The same figure who now sits and stares apathetically as his men torture another human being right in front of his eyes.

Kuroo scrambles backwards and races back to the bedroom and falls to the floor in a trembling heap. All the money, the armed men, the secrecy...it all starts making sense and Kuroo cries at how stupid he is for believing that Daichi was just a normal wealthy businessman. Wiping his tears away with shaky hands, he promises himself that he’ll end things with Daichi tomorrow and leave this all behind him. With that last thought, he drifts off into a restless sleep, tossing and turning as horrifying images and screams fill his mind. 

A gentle voice in his ear stirs him and out of habit, he unconsciously buries himself in the warm embrace, but as he awakens, he tenses up as last night’s memories replay in his head. He allows Daichi to hold him in silence a little longer before tentatively removing the strong arms from his body. Confused, Daichi sits up to look at Kuroo. “Daichi, I think it’s better if we end this arrangement. Don’t you think it’s strange that we only see each other? I can’t even remember the last time I saw my friends or even went on a normal date with someone else. This isn’t healthy for either of us.” Kuroo continues weaving his false tale, but he falters when he sees the fury building in the brown eyes staring at him. “Bullshit, Tetsurou. Why are you really ending things? Because you sure as hell weren’t complaining when you were moaning like a whore just yesterday morning.” Kuroo winces at the harsh tone and words and is about to stutter out something when a hand roughly grabs him by the roots of his hair and begins dragging him out of the room, down a hallway, and...Kuroo panics. No, no, no. They’re moving in the same direction as the room where Kuroo witnessed things no eyes should ever have to see and Kuroo begins frantically tugging at the hand firmly entangled in his locks. “No, Daichi, please! I’m sorry. Please don’t torture me too.” 

The hold on him releases and he collapses to the floor and tries to crawl away, but he’s stopped by a grasp on his chin and his head is tilted until he’s staring into a face that once brought him so much joy. “Ahh, did a bad kitten leave his room last night and spy on master? Is that what this is about? Silly boy. Now I really can’t let you go...not that I ever planned on letting you go anyway.” With a humorless chuckle, Daichi flings Kuroo over his broad shoulder, ignoring the pounding fists against his back as he throws Kuroo in the same room that, just last night, someone died in. With the help of some of his men, it’s not long before Kuroo is chained to the table and Daichi kneels down until they’re face to face and tenderly strokes Kuroo’s tear streaked face. “You’re mine for forever, Tetsurou. I’m going to make sure you never forget that.” Kuroo feels a prick in his neck and his world goes dark.

Kuroo’s head throbs when he wakes up and he winces as he sits up. He shivers as he opens his eyes. Why is it so cold- He shrieks as his movement causes something to shift inside of him and hit his prostate and he collapses back onto the bed. Trying to stay as still as possible, he looks around and sighs in relief when he realizes he’s back in Daichi’s and his shared bedroom, but trepidation begins to eat at him when he realizes he’s completely bare. Feeling incredibly vulnerable, he gingerly moves his hands to feel what’s inside of him and humiliations hits him like a brick when he realizes it’s a plug with a plush black cat tail attached to it. If it weren’t for recent events, he might have been turned on by the object, but remembering everything that unfolded, Kuroo begins to remove the plug only to be interrupted by a painful electric shock around his neck. Kuroo sobs as his hands tug at the collar he hadn’t even realized was wrapped around his slender neck, but he halts as a voice fills the air.  “I wouldn’t try to unlock that collar, kitten. It’s set to electric shock you if the fastening is touched. Only I can remove it from you and that’s not happening anytime soon until I know you’ll behave for me.” 

Body wracking shivers overtake the lean male as he fills a weight dip in the bed beside him and he chokes on air as Daichi roughly thrusts the plug all the way inside of him once more. “You’re so beautiful like this. Just like a real kitty cat. You’re going to leave this plug inside of you unless you’re explicitly allowed to take it out, understand? I want you stretched and ready for me to use at all times.” Kuroo doesn’t answer, too busy sobbing into the sheets, but another electric shock has him rapidly nodding his head. “Use your words, kitten.” “Yes, I’m sorry for trying to remove it, master. I’ll leave it in.” Satisfied, Daichi takes his time to appraise the gorgeous lean figure of the man lying besides him. He rearranges Kuroo until he’s on his back, body folded in half so far that his knees are besides his ears. With firm hands holding the back of tanned thighs in place, Daichi begins to mouth and lick Kuroo’s flaccid cock. Kuroo desperately tries to fight off the pleasure, not wanting to give Daichi the satisfaction of making him feel good in any way, but after months of learning and studying every inch of his body, it takes an embarrassingly short time for Daichi to have Kuroo’s cock at full mast. Drool is beginning to leak out the sides of Kuroo’s gaping mouth and he rolls his hips in an attempt to move the plug against his prostate. He’s so close, just a little bit more...but suddenly strong hands hold him still and Daichi removes his mouth seconds before he can find any release and Kuroo wails at the painful denial. 

Daichi leans down and lovingly kisses him. “I’m going to keep on edging you, denying you, and torturing you until you come crawling to me, begging me for more. And when you do, I’m going to make you cum so many times and use your body over and over again until the only thing you’ll be able to think about is my cock and me. No matter how much you hate me, no matter how much you despise my line of work, you won’t be able to deny your body’s permanent tie to me. I’m going to train you until your body is completely dependent on me to be satisfied.” Anger fuels Kuroo and he musters all his remaining energy to spit on Daichi’s face, taking sick pleasure in the way it trickles down the handsome face. “I’ll never willingly go to you. I’ll never be yours, you sick fuck.” Daichi just cruelly smiles as he wipes the liquid off his face and smears his soiled hand on Kuroo’s chest. “We’ll see about that,” he says before leaning down to once more take Kuroo’s length into his mouth. 

Kuroo doesn’t know how much time has passed. It’s been at least a week, maybe more, but any train of thought he has is cut off as the plug inside of him vibrates against his abused prostate once again. He sobs, but there are no more tears left for him to shed, and he just lies there, body spasming at being stimulated over and over again, but never being allowed the relief of finishing. Daichi had spent the first few days with him, personally working over Kuroo’s body with skillful fingers, but duty called and he needed to attend to business. In his absence, he had replaced the cat tail plug with a vibrating prostate massager and added a vibrating cock ring, both of which he remotely controlled and used to continue the job. Chained in a spread eagle position, gagged, and blindfolded, Kuroo just lies there, slowly losing his mind to the unending cycle of frustration and desire. More days pass and Kuroo barely even twitches at the onslaught anymore. His brain feels like mush and all he wants is to cum, all he wants is Daichi to make him cum, all he wants is Daichi. 

Hazily he realizes the chains around his wrists and ankles are being unlocked and he blinks when the blindfold is finally removed from his eyes. When his eyes adjust to the lights, he recognizes a familiar face and throws himself into Daichi’s arms. Daichi smirks at the sight of Kuroo incoherently begging and babbling words of affection while shaking his hips and grinding his cock against Daichi in desperation. “Daichi, master, pl-please AH please make me feel good, please OH please make me cum. I missed you so much. I love you so much. Please take care of me.” Daichi leers at the depraved mess in his arms. “Was that so hard, kitten? All you had to do was ask nicely. Master will take good care of you now.” Daichi removes the toys from Kuroo and coldly laughs when Kuroo whines about being empty before slamming completely inside of him in one thrust. He groans at the wanton wails that fills the room as he rapidly pistons in and out of the warm hole. “AH, yes, master. I love your cock. I love being filled. Fuck me more! Harder!” 

Even when Kuroo releases thick spurts of white, he continues shaking his hips, begging for more. “Don’t pull out! I love you. Please keep on fucking me.” Daichi gives a hard smack to the lewdly jiggling buttcheeks presented before him. “God, I’ve turned you into such a good cock slut. You’re just a slutty kitten, aren’t you? Do you want to be my slutty kitten forever?” “Yes, yes, yes! I’ll be your slutty kitten forever, master! I love you so much. Please use me forever.” 

Daichi doesn’t stop his relentless assault on his mindbroken darling even after Kuroo’s reached his peak a fifth time and even when all Kuroo can do is pathetically dry orgasm. He doesn’t stop until Kuroo’s body goes limp and his eyes roll completely back as he faints from exhaustion and overstimulation. Only then does he gingerly wash the unconscious body and reinsert the cat tail plug before lying beside his lover in bed. As he cradles Kuroo’s prone form, Daichi smiles in anticipation of spending the rest of their lives together. 

Epilogue

Daichi fights back a groan that threatens to slip from his mouth as he holds his cellphone to his ear. He looks down and nearly cums from just the sight of Kuroo on his knees before him, eagerly sucking his cock like it’s the most delicious thing he’s ever had in his mouth. He reaches one hand down to stroke his messy hair and smiles as Kuroo purrs and leans into his touch. When Kuroo looks up at Daichi through half-lidded eyes full of nothing but love and adoration, Daichi can’t help the way his balls tighten and his hips buck as he paints the inside of Kuroo’s throat white. Panting, he motions for Kuroo to sit on his lap and without hesitation, Kuroo straddles his muscular thighs as he wraps his long arms around Daichi’s neck and affectionately kisses him. He’s so grateful to belong to a master he loves so much.  

[gingerbreton]

Professional (Adam x f!detective)

Summary:

As they continue to work on the Murphy case, Adam takes his turn 'babysitting' the detective.

Since she uncovered the truth, Adam has seen a different side to Neve Langford.  And it is becoming increasingly difficult to maintain professional boundaries.

Notes:

This is set during the 'babysitting' week after the detective leaves the facility, before Murphy's attack.

Rating:  T    Word Count:  1961

[Read on AO3]

The shrill ring of the bell stops the detective in her tracks, and Adam has to catch himself from crashing into the back of her as a pair of fellow early-risers dart from the bakery door and out into the rain-wrapped Square.  He snaps out a hand to stop the door from slamming back into Neve’s face.

A wave of warm air washes over Adam as the door swings open again, carrying on it scents of baking bread and the cloying sweetness of fresh pastries.  He wrinkles his nose at the powerful odours, missing the clean chill of the breeze blowing in from the forests which surround the town.

“I’ll be right with you,” a bright voice calls out from the back at the sound of the bell.

With a brief shiver as the stark temperature change hits her, Neve hurries into the warmth of the bakery.  The swift click of her heels echoing in the quiet space as she makes a beeline for the display of particularly sickly looking breakfast goods.

Adam hangs back by the door, eyes adjusting to the light after the darkness of the early morning.  He passed the bakery on patrol the other night, it’s window display illuminated in keeping with the Square’s aesthetic, though had not set foot inside before.  Nor had he intended to until the detective insisted on breakfast.

This would have been so much simpler if the Agency had insisted the detective remain at the facility.  But here we are...

A large table dominates the seating area.  Adam eyes the way it limits passage through the space to two routes—less than ideal if they have to exit swiftly past an adversary, but he can work with it.  He’s just pondering the strategic pros and cons of the large curved counter when his attention is drawn to the detective.

Neve removes her scarf to shake loose the fine drizzle which clings to the fabric.  She pushes her hair out of the way as she does so.  It’s this motion which catches Adam’s attention, but not what holds it.

Faint bruises paint the detective’s freckled skin, faded to the point of being almost unnoticeable.  At least to human eyes.  To him it’s blatant evidence of where bloated fingers constricted around the detective’s throat.  An injury, Adam is guilty to admit, he did not notice until after the fact—not until Neve had collapsed in his arms.

The detective’s hair falls back into place, hiding the marks that even she seems to have forgotten behind a waterfall of soft strawberry blonde.  

But a thought lingers in Adam’s mind;  humans are fragile.

This isn’t a startling revelation.  He’s known it for over 900 years.  In the past it was little more than an inconvenience—something to take into consideration when dealing with them.

When did it become a concern?

Adam shakes his head to dispel the thought.

“Good morning, Haley.”  

Neve greets the proprietor, a warm smile settling on her lips.  It’s the kind of warmth that draws people to her—that draws him to her.

Before this gentler warmth grew between them, the detective’s temper used to flare like a wildfire—his too, if he’s honest—threatening to set them both alight.  Now the fire that seems to burn at the heart of Neve has settled into a welcoming glow.  It makes her eyes sparkle, and Adam struggles to look away—wishing he could hide behind his aviators without drawing comment.

Whether she knows it or not, the detective is making his task difficult—crouching to peruse the selection of pastries, the edge of her lip, not fully bitten, just caught by a drag of her teeth as she scans her choices.  Decision made, her lip slips free when a smile wins out and she points to a particularly plump croissant.  

Adam snaps his gaze away.

The task of drowning out their conversation is made easier when it descends into inane small talk.  He diverts his attention back to where it should be—watching for threats.  It is his turn to babysit the detective after all.

The large windows of the shopfront are fogged with thick condensation from the chill of the late winter air hitting the warmth of the bakery’s interior.  He frowns at the lack of visibility out into the Square beyond but resists the urge to wipe away a section of the misted glass.

“Adam-”  Neve’s voice stumbles to a stop, correcting herself when Adam’s gaze flashes to her.  “Commanding Agent, did you want anything?”  She pauses, something tentative—hopeful even—in the look she gives him.  “My treat.”

“That isn’t necessary, detective,” Adam replies stiffly.  

His throat dries at the sudden memory of Neve's name escaping his lips in the lab a few days before.  ‘I prefer you call me that.’  More so at the memory of the way she looked at him in response.

“But thank you.”  He adds with a cough as her gaze flicks away, wondering if he imagined her shoulders sag.

‘I think using your title would serve us better since we are working together.’

Adam has been doing this job, or some version of it, for centuries.  Times change, the Agency adapts, people come and go, and never once has he struggled with professionalism.  With boundaries.  

But now his words are getting away from him, he has to check every action to maintain these boundaries, to remain professional.  Because that’s all this is.  Professional.

As soon as Murphy is caught the team will move on.  He will move on.

‘But I’m glad to know we are on good enough terms for first names—Neve’.

The first had been a slip, but the second, in spite of himself he’d allowed her name to linger on his tongue.  Savouring it one last time before he drew a line.  Rebuilt that boundary.  Adam has always considered himself a strong-willed man, and that should’ve been an end to it.

But then Neve smiled.

He’d seen her smile before—obviously—but not like this.  Not for him.  Impossibly soft and sweet and shy.  A blush colouring her cheeks, heart fluttering as she held his gaze.

The sight etched itself onto his memory.

A wave of panic hits Adam as he sees the detective move to sit at the large table, only then realising how long he’d been lost in thought.

“We should be going,” he blurts.  The thought of sitting alone together—Adam scolds himself for his flustered reaction.  “To meet the other at the station.”

“Oh—of course.”  

A confused frown tugging at her brow, Neve turns to Haley who is already transferring her coffee into a takeaway cup.

It’s not until the detective is sweetening the drink that Adam takes in the sheer size of the thing.  Despite the blanket of frothy milk, there’s an almost overpowering scent of espresso.  Neve pours in one sweetener, and then a second.

Adam wrinkles his nose, a judgemental frown creasing his brow.

“You’ll not taste that with your breakfast.”

Neve meets his eye, a familiar stubbornness catching in her eyes.  She picks up a third sweetener, tears the packet open with her teeth and pours it into her drink, all without breaking his gaze.

Adam rolls his eyes, drags the door open and heads out into the cold, but not before catching the smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth.

----

Dawn light is beginning to daub hues of pinks and orange across the undersides of the thinning rainclouds.  The downpour has slowed to a light drizzle which hangs like mist in the air, droplets quickly clinging to the wool of his coat.  

The clocktower declares it’s a little after seven thirty as Adam strides across the pavement, pausing only when he realises that the detective isn’t at his side.  This isn’t unusual in itself—between those ridiculous heels and fitted skirts, it takes Neve two paces to keep up with one of his—but this time there’s no click of heels following him.  

Though there is the increased patter of her heartbeat.

“Detective?”

He turns in time to see her linger in the doorway, deep-green gaze furtively scanning the Square before she steps out.  Adam can feel the nerves radiate from her as she hurries to his side.  

It wasn’t long ago that he lamented the detective’s habit of rushing off into trouble, but now, as she stands glued to his side on the cobbled streets of a town she’s called home her whole life, he finds himself half-grieving the freedom that came with her naivety.

“You are uncertain.”

The statement catches Neve off guard, her heels skittering on the slick cobblestones as she snaps to look at him.  Adam instinctually reaches out to steady her, but swiftly pulls his fingers back before they brush the small of her back—burying the offending hand deep in his coat pockets.

“The fact that Murphy is a vampire still concerns you?”  Adam hushes his tone, despite the empty street.

A slight frown knots Neve’s brow, her lips moving around a thought.

“It’s not that,” she says after a moment, pointedly avoiding Adam’s gaze.  Pulling her collar up high to guard against the rain, she hurries across the street.  He follows, matching her pace with ease.  “What Murphy is on a biological level is irrelevant.”

Adam raises a brow, though he shouldn’t be surprised; she’d looked at the evidence, considered the blood results, and accepted the true nature of Unit Bravo with little more than a dry comment about how they should get a DNA database entry sorted, unless they wished to be named after the station’s pathologist.

“It’s just...the balance of everything shifted overnight,” Neve continues.  “I went from being a professional trying to catch a murderer, to being his next victim.”

Her voice catches, but she coughs it off before Adam has a chance to say anything.  

“You know, they tried to recruit students to take part in medical trials while I was in college.  For cash.”  She takes a long sip of her coffee before trying to smile, as though there’s a joke in there somewhere but she can’t decide if it’s funny.  “I wasn’t interested then either.  And I doubt Murphy offers better pay than the drug companies.”

The laugh that accompanies her slipping smile is breathy and lost in thought.  Without seeming to notice, she fidgets at the cut across her palm.

“I don’t want to be a victim.”

She seems to startle herself with the admission—a rare confession of vulnerability from a woman who insists she can take care of herself.  Adam’s brows furrow deeply under a weight of concern.

“It will be alright.”

You will be alright.

“I know it will.”

The vulnerability is gone.  Neve sets her lips into a tight line.  Stubborn.  Determined.  If it wasn’t for the nervous fluttering of her heart, he might even believe her.

Adam’s lips move for a moment as he tries to conjure an adequate sentiment to put Neve’s mind at rest, but his words fall short.  Instead he sets about watching their surroundings with redoubled diligence—as though the action may at least allay some of her fears.

“Adam…”  Neve almost reaches out to him, he freezes, watching the motion, but she thinks better of it.  “I know it will.”

Her expression softens as her eyes finally meet his—stubbornness waning to give way to something else.  Adam could be mistaken, but buried deep, warming the dark green of her eyes, there’s trust.

Their gazes break apart under the weight of the heavy silence that follows, and they make for the detective’s car without another word.

Adam will not let anything happen to her.

And he tells himself there’s nothing more to it than that.

[eliotquillon]

Shelby and Laura, “I’m sick of being USELESS”

thank you for the prompt vul! references a plenty to my iranian shelby hc here, btw (which one day i will do a proper writeup on haha)

*

The thing about having a niche talent was that its utility relied upon it staying that way: niche. Shelby had her lockpicking, Franz had his sharpshooting, Wing had his absurd upper body strength - hell, even Nigel had his plants. So sharing a talent with Otto was already a blow to Laura’s pride. But, unlike Laura, being great with computers just part of a list of several things that made Otto special. A list that made him Nero’s unequivocal favourite.

And, to add insult to injury, he was better than her at it.

It hadn’t gotten to her before now. Some part of it had gnawed at her, of course, kept her up at tapping away at the keys of her laptop even when Shelby begged her to close the damn thing and go to bed, but Laura had done her best not to think about it. Technology would outstrip the implant in his head sooner or later; when it did, she’d have the home advantage. Otto himself had told her this. Had given her a rueful smile and made some joke about her taking the honourable route, and she’d laughed.

But that had been before this week, before the exhausting training exercise in the UAE, before they’d broken into the Dubai World Trade Centre. Before it had been decided that it would be Otto handling the online security. Before Laura had watched her friends - her perfect, brilliant friends - do all the hard work and leave her scrambling behind them, feeling like a woodlouse tipped onto its back.

She told them, ten minutes into the flight home on the Shroud, that she had a headache. They’d bought it. Shelby had been too busy laughing at Otto’s awful Arabic accent - though she herself only knew Arabic from the Qur’an classes she’d taken as a child, something she’d whispered to Laura in the velvet of those nights at H.I.V.E. when Laura’s own homesickness had been a vice around her chest and Shelby had given pieces of herself away as a distraction - to notice.

Or so Laura had thought.

“You seem off,” Shelby said, walking to the back of the aircraft to where Laura was sitting, chin propped up on her knees and hands balled into fists. “What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing,” Laura said. “I’m just tired.”

Shelby wouldn’t understand, she thought. Nobody had blessed Shelby with a faultless memory or the ability to interface with machines, but she managed to match Otto at almost every opportunity, and best him at others. Shelby didn’t sulk; she threw herself into a challenge. But Laura had never been that girl. Being that girl would mean admitting that she wanted this - this life - and while Laura had accepted her fate and the fact that she was at H.I.V.E. for a reason, she wasn’t sure if that was a step she was willing to take.

She’d told Otto once that she wasn’t sure if she was cut out for this. More than ever, that sentiment rang true.

“Give it up, Brand.” Shelby’s voice sounded imperious. “You’re an awful liar.”

“You’re going to laugh,” Laura said.

“I won’t,” Shelby promised. “I got all of the laughter out after listening to Otto try to recite the Surah Al-Baqara.”

Laura swallowed. She was itchy and uncomfortable from being out in the sun - unlike Wing and even Shelby, she wasn’t used to such high temperatures - and something about her skin felt tight and uncomfortable. Like she didn’t belong. “I’m sick of being useless,” she said after a long moment. “I did nothing on this exercise. Even Nigel got that stupid poisons question right. It’s like I’m too much of a freak to belong in the normal world, but not enough to be of any use here.”

She didn’t want to look at Shelby’s expression. Shelby had a face like an open book, and Laura didn’t want to know if Shelby agreed with her.

“You’re not useless,” Shelby said firmly.

“Yes, I am,” Laura said. “Look - you were the Wraith. Otto conned half of fucking London, if you hear him tell it. Wing holds his own against Raven every week. And I couldn’t even hack an air base without getting caught.” A hot tear rolled down her cheek. “Otto does what I do, but ten times better. He’s untraceable, Shel. How am I supposed to be any help when he can do everything I can, with zero chance of getting caught?”

“Okay,” Shelby’s voice was even, “but who cares?”

“I care.”

“Look, you had a bad mission,” Shelby said. “It happens to all of us. I mean, remember when Wing dislocated his shoulder in Austria? You can’t run at 100% all the time. Even Raven has off days.” Shelby quirked her mouth. “Probably. You’re not useless, Laura. Shit, Otto doesn’t shut up about how talented you are. He walks out of every class with Pike looking like you’ve just blown his tiny mind.” She leaned over and squeezed Laura’s wrist. “There are so many times you have saved our asses. I mean, Deepcore? Figuring out the whole thing with the Contessa? Even I know enough about computers to know that Otto wouldn’t have been able to crack the whole fractal encryption fiasco. You can’t compare yourself to him when half of the time Big Blue is giving him an extra boost, anyway.”

Laura hiccuped wetly, and glanced up. Shelby looked - impassioned, her chest heaving like she’d just run a marathon. As if she was willing to give a hundred speeches in defence of Laura’s honour as a coder. “I know that deep down,” Laura relented. “I just feel like crap, I guess. Like losing six years of my life here is for nothing because I’m not even succeeding.”

“Laura, your grade is going to be just fine,” Shelby reassured. “Half of the other Alphas collapsed of heat exhaustion, did you know that? Raven told me. And even if you sucked at everything, which you don’t, you’d have me.” She let a curtain of blonde hair fall over her face, obscuring it, before adding, “You’ll always have me.”

It was unnerving to see Shelby like this. Laura had never seen her so earnest, not even with Wing.

“Thanks, Shel.” Her throat was hoarse.

Shelby’s responding smile could’ve melted even the most stubborn of icebergs.

[allandoflimbo]

Bad Guy

Summary: You experience another night out in your new hometown. One that has you reaching for a drink, and maybe ending with a certain someone between your legs.

Warnings: Drinking, cursing, and (mild, well for me) fucking.

A/N: This is a submisstion for @amanda-teaches​ 2k Writer + Reader Challenge. My prompt was “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.” This was really fun to write. Thank you for letting me participate in this! And I hope you really enjoy this one. :) It’s pretty light hearted. As most of you know, I will no longer post my writing on Tumblr, i’ll just be sticking to my other platforms now. If you wanna check me out i’ll be on AO3, mostly. This is my final closing. :)

The night was turning crisp, a heavy contrast to what it had been that afternoon. 

It had been humid and overbearingly hot; too scorching for a late August summer. 

It was around six o’clock when the temperature had dropped a sudden ten degrees. Now it was pleasant, and those that had hidden away all day in their air conditioned homes, finally decided to venture out into the cooling air. 

There was an intense misconception about New York City that not many understood, not until they experienced it first hand, at least.

Sure, it was beautiful in its bright lights and air that seemed to ooze hope for everyone’s future. It gave off a vibe that made you admit, that yeah, it kind of was like the movies. 

Except that it wasn’t.

From afar, it was quite the spectacular, but as you narrowed down and took a closer look, you’d see it for what it really was.

The brownstone buildings that housed the speakeasies and restaurants on the ground floor; they were beautiful, surly. 

So were the homes across the streets, with their lights still on.

 The streets, they were nice too. 

People stood all around, greeting new friends and old ones, talking about which place they would go to next or which bar.

You liked the village. It had its pros and cons, but at the end of the day, you were glad you settled for that fifteen hundred dollar studio on the first floor. 

It had a nice view of the deli and the prestigious restaurant across the street, and it was a brownstone.

Yeah, all of that was really nice.

Except when you took a closer look and realized that even the prettiest of things had its faults.

Those streets filled with smiles and laughter also had trash bags piled up every ten feet and on every corner. 

Those restaurants and speakeasies - the brownstones were older so the walls outside the building were washed out, aged. 

The air also had a strange, but yet addicting, smell. 

It was a mixture of all the restaurants around mixed with booze. 

The stairs that led down into the restaurant entrances were old and rusted. 

The ATMs that lounged outside each one - because that’s right, most of them only take fucking cash - six out of ten of them were always out of service and served as nothing but mediocre décor next to the window. 

Heavy graffiti lined their sides.

The doors to the restaurants were older, too. Some of them never even closed properly or were too damn heavy.

And your apartment...it was perfect. 

You’d have to settle into become a minimalist to even fit your bed inside. 

The flooring was also old and scratched and the walls needed a new paint job. But it wasn’t too bad. It could’ve been worst.

But you loved it. 

You loved the feeling of the city around you, and you loved how you had made your new friends so easily after moving in from your old home in little ole’ Ohio. 

You loved going to bed being able to hear the life outside, the laughters and sound of people making new memories and falling in love.

And those restaurants and speakeasies that looked flawed up close, they were anything but inside.

The owners  were always so imaginative. The lighting was always warm, there were always people inside enjoying life and the food- in every single one of them.

Because, that’s right, all their food were good food.

New York City was beautifully flawed. 

It was just what you were looking for.

You think this to yourself for the hundredth time since you moved here as you walk down the street towards a new bar you hadn’t been to yet.

You pass by locals as well as tourists and it’s nice. 

You’re about to cross the street when you see a couple getting out of their little apartment. 

Your heart warms as you see the man take the girl’s hand in his, both of them giggling as they prepare for a night out of making memories.

You feel your phone vibrate as you arrive to the other side of the intersection. 

You hear a car horn in the distant and a nice summer breeze blow in through your hair.

You open your lock screen.

Nat

You here yet?

You quickly type away a message while also trying to avoid walking into others coming in the opposite direction as you.

You hold tighter onto your bag as it bumps into a girl, your small heels clacking beneath your feet. 

You open your map to see the distance of the location and then reply back to her.

I’m a block away.

You see it from where you’re standing and it had it a decent sized line to get inside. 

Budapëis

It read in white letters on the blackout windows.

You sped up a bit as you got closer, your excitement growing in your belly.

It doesn’t take much longer after you’ve been in line to realize it was actually moving pretty quickly.

A larger and dark man greets you at the entrance and you hand him your ID which he quickly scans. He gives it back to you and you thank him.

Inside the bar was loud. The people chatted away happily and the music thrummed in your bones. It was also very dark, the only light being the orange glows of the candles on some of the tables and the dimmed warm lights hanging above.

You watched as the cute male bartenders worked proficiently and sync, but also making sense to make small talk with each client as much as they could over the loud noise. 

A girl says excuse me but still manages to nudge into you.

Spinning your head around, you realize there are no more seats left to sit and it makes sense why half of the people were all standing around and huddled like cattle.

Oh boy.

You feel a tug on your arm and you spin around to see Nat holding a Martini in her right hand, her left arm going in for an immediate hug.

“You made it!” She says.

“Of course!” You hope she can hear you.

She pulls away and tugs you towards her, “Come on, we’re all in the back.”

You let her lead you to the “back” which is really just a small space in the corner of the bar. 

You immediately recognize Steve, Sam, and Wanda from afar.

“Oh, hey, you made it!” Steve yells, grabbing you in a tight hug.

“Hey, Y/N” “Oh, hey.” Sam and Wanda greet you.

“Hi, sorry I took a bit long. I was doing laundry.”

“Ha.” Sam snorts out loud, “come on you need a drink.” He adds.

“I will, I will —“ you dart your eyes to his own cup and point, “what’s that?”

“New York sour. Tastes like shit. Wanna try?” He says way too excitedly.

“Sure.” He hands you his glass and you take a sip.

You barely have the tip of the glass all the way out of your mouth when a body hits you on your side, making you stumble. 

The drink doesn’t spill crazily, but it’s enough to get on your hand and to leave it sticky, leaving you annoyed. 

You’re also not too fond of the face full of hair you just got and the elbow that keeps nudging into the side of your rips.

You stumble a few centimeters to the left, because seriously, it’s not like you have an option right now.

You look over to the girl who is now laughing and talking exceptionally loud with Nat and all your friends.

Did they really not see that? 

But you wouldn’t blame them, there was barely any light in the place anyway. 

If it weren’t for Sam reaching over the girl’s head to grab your glass, you’d be certain he had forgotten all about you.

You hand it back, cringing as you try not to elbow the girl in the face. 

Sure, she was rude, but you weren’t going to return that sentiment. 

“What’d you think, Y/N?” Sam shouts to you.

It’s then, finally, when the girl looks over at you. 

She was drop dead gorgeous. At least 5’9. Her hair was a natural light brown and her eyes a piercing green.

Clearly a model trying to make it big in the city.

Her face is emotionless at first but then she attempts a smile. 

You feel awkward under her gaze, awaiting an apology when Sam pulls you around. 

“Come on, lets get ya something good.” He says, dragging you the bar.

You follow him until you’re at the side of the counter closest to when you first came in.

You sigh, already dreading this night, when you overhear Sam ordering two shots of tequila and two lemons.

“Me and you, y/l/n.” He says, taking the glass from the cute bartender.

Sam hands you the shot and you both countdown together before taking it simultaneously. 

You chase it with the lemon, and okay yeah, you feel a little bit better.

“Glad we finally got ya out to a real bar.” Sam smiles.

You shrug.

“It’s been a while. Been busy trying to work, book places.”

“Oh, yeah, what is it that you do again?”

“I’m a singer, Sam. Whole reason I came from Ohio. Hello?”

He shoots you an infectious grin.

“I know, I’m just messing with you.”

You sigh. 

Sometimes you did feel like people forgot though, especially in a city with 8 million other people trying to reach the same dream as you.

You hang around your friends for a bit longer, finally, finally getting the opportunity to wish Nat a happy birthday.

It must’ve been about an hour now later and you’re glad that one girl was gone. 

Whoever she was.

“Is Bucky still coming?” Sam asks randomly out loud.

“He said he would get here as soon as he was done with his shift.” Steve mumbles, looking down at his phone, a glass filled with amber alcohol in his other hand.

“Shocked he’s taking so long. Wonder if he knows Aubrey is here.” Sam says.

“He’s an ass. And a whore. He knows.” Nat screams over to the guys.

You look over at Nat and Wanda and you see them already out of it giggling while looking at some guys’ Instagram feed.

“I’m gonna get another drink.” You announce.

“Hell yeah you are, y/l/n!” Sam yells with a wink.

Steve elbows him in the side.

“Stop peer pressuring her.” He says.

“I’m not, she just needs to let loose—“ he voice fades as you walk away. 

You sigh, suddenly feeling exhausted. You contemplated ordering some fries or maybe mozzarella sticks.

You fold your arms onto the cold counter, waiting for the bartender to give you his full attention. 

It takes a bit with the amount of people he’s serving along with the other bartender.

Finally he looks over at you and he smiles bright. 

God, so cute.

You lean your head on your hand.

“Hi, can I have a gin and tonic?”

He taps the table top.

“Sure thing.” You watch his arms flexing as he makes your drink. 

Mmm.

He slides it to you with a wink.

“You on a tab?”

You tell him Nat’s name and everything necessary and he nods. 

You sip your drink, letting the music drown and numb you along with the alcohol. Your finger trails the condensation on the glass gingerly.

“Hey, man.”

A soothing voice comes up next to you, greeting the bartender.

The bartender’s face lights up.

“No, way. Finally out of his damn shell.” The bartender greets him with a over hand handshake.

You slide over to the side a bit, giving them some space. 

The man next to you orders a drink, giving the bartender his card and requesting a tab.

You feel the heat of his presence as he leans on his own arms  over the counter right next to you, and you can’t help smelling the delicious smell of cologne wafting off his body. 

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol but you feel yourself biting on your bottom lip, and sticking your ass in the air, still dragging your hand up and down the glass. 

But this time on purpose.

It doesn’t work.

You look over to take a look at the man in question and you swoon.

His dark brown hair was begging to be pulled and he had the softest of scruff on his face. 

He wore a black leather jacket and jeans and shoes that looked way too expensive. 

You drag your eyes back up his body to see a smirk, and fuck, he’s looking straight at you.

Those eyes. They were so blue.

You blush faintly, turning back to your glass and taking another sip.

You know he’s still there, eyes stilling lingering on you.

He takes his drink and then clears his throat.

You’re expecting him to say something when he leaves.

Your smile fades and you feel a weird emptiness. Rejection? 

No that couldn’t be it. 

You’re finishing your drink when your eyes drift back up to your friends.

Sam, Steve, Wanda, and Nat are all smiling. 

But then Steve is smiling more and the commotion is even bigger as they spin around.

You perk a brow as you watch the man that was just next to you a few moments ago greet your friends.

Was that Bucky? The infamous asshole?

He was beautiful. 

Of course he was. 

You try to compose yourself before walking back over to your friends.

Sam looks at you disappointed, eyes darting to your empty hands.

“I thought you were getting a drink.”

“I already drunk it, dumbass.”

“Why drink there, drink here.”

You chuckle, your eyes darting to Bucky briefly who eyes you for a moment making a connection.

His friends were your friends too.

There was something strange the entire time, about the connection in the air between you two. 

It must’ve been the alcohol. He was way out of your league. 

But you didn’t understand the asshole your friends were talking about. Well, not that you really knew him that much anyway.

As you pretend to be intrigued in your conversation with Nat and Wanda, yours was actually focused on Bucky.

It’s like you both are playing a playful game of who can catch the other looking first. 

You find yourself licking your lip...twirling your hair around your finger…

You swear he’s staring at your finger. 

God, what was happening to you?

“Hey, babe!”

You heart Plummets into your stomach as you see the same girl from before (the one who spilled the drink on you) wrapping her arms around Bucky’s neck and oh yeah, she’s definitely sticking her tongue down his throat.

You feel your heart in your stomach and the strong taste of the gin in your mouth.

He pulls away with a moan and a slight grimace.

“Hey, Aubrey. What are you doing here?” 

His hands go to her arms, prying her off of him.

“I came with a few friends and ran into yours. You haven’t been answering any of my messages.”

“Yeah, we broke up, remember?”

Everyone’s attention is now to Bucky and Aubrey as they watch their interaction.

“But come on, just one more night, one more good fuck for all times sake.”

A heavy snicker leaves your throat, but you quickly try to disguise it by pretending to wipe your mouth. 

The girl’s head spins towards you and she peaking a brow at you.

She quickly ignores you and turns back to Bucky.

“Come on, Bucky.”

Bucky looks over it.

“Aubrey, Aubrey stop.” He says seriously.

She pulls back from him and they stare at each other for a moment longer before she scoffs and spins on her heel.

You turn away from the scene, suddenly needing another drink or at least some fresh air.

You settle for the latter, telling your friends you’d be right back.

You settle to lean back against the brick wall of the bar, taking in the sweet smell of a summer night.

The contrast of the silence outside felt amazing your ears, and the small amount of alcohol in your system only made it better.

You cursed yourself for being a horny little freak. But you chuckle to yourself as you pull out your phone. You couldn’t help that you needed physical attention.

You’re skimming through your emails when you feel someone next to you. You look up to see Bucky, his left shoulder leaning on the wall right next to you.

You find yourself smiling at his little smirk and you bite your bottom lip, looking away.

“You were trying to get my attention so bad before, and now you don’t want to talk?” He asks playfully.

You shake your head, but you still have a smile on your face.

You feel your cheeks grow hot.

“Wow, seriously?” “Am I wrong?”

You think about your answer as you continue to look through your emails, except at this point you were just trying to look like you were.

“No, but that was before I realized who you were.”

His smiled slides off slowly.

“What do you mean?” 

You finally decide to put your phone away and you spin around to look at him, now face to face.

The look in his eyes are intense and you find yourself blushing. You knew all these things about him, but yet he had this aura about him, almost like everyone else was wrong.

Your eyes dart from his eyes and to his lips.

“Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.” You say quietly.

When he doesn’t say anything, you look back up until your eyes meet.

“Are they wrong?” He asks.

Your perk a brow at his answer.

“I—I don’t know.” 

He chuckles.

“Exactly.”

You nod, pushing yourself off the wall. You take a deep breath, looking at the people on the street.

“It’s getting late, I should get going.”

Bucky nods, still not moving from his spot.

“Okay, yeah.”

You stay glued to where you are, your eyes darting back to his.

“Yeah.” You repeat back.

You watch as the tip of his tongue licks his lips. You feel the heat in your core and you feel the heavy beating in your chest.

“Do you live close by?” He asks huskily, looking over your shoulder.

____

You don’t know how it happened, but one minute he had you up against the public hallway wall of your apartment building - where literally anyone could see you - and the next he was pushing your jeans passed down your hips in your living room.

You groaned as your lips connected again, and as you pulled on his hair again.

He cursed into your lips as he cupped your center, feeling how wet you already were for him. 

You whimpered as he rubbed small circles over your clit, before finally inserting his finger deep inside of you.

He pushed you down onto your bed, his left hand still fucking you. You lifted your left leg onto the bed and he groaned into your mouth as he quickened the pace of his hand. 

You threw your head back, moaning.

You felt your desire quickly dissipate as he pulled away from you.

Bucky chuckled at your whine, but your disappointment was short lived as your watched him pull his shirt and jeans off.  

You did the same with your own top and then your bra.

He was on you in a hot second, capturing your lips in a long kiss that had your toes curling against your blanket.

When he pulled away you were captivated by how delicious he looked. You also couldn’t help but swoon at the look he had in his eyes. 

Endearment? You weren’t sure.

Your fingers trail over the side of his face as he continues to stare down at you.

“I’m not the bad guy,” he kisses you. He slides into you with a grunt, “I swear, I’m not him.” He kisses you again.

Your hook your left leg over his hip, pulling him in deeper into your hot core.

You pull away from his mouth, your left hand going down to his stomach.

“Fuck. Fuck.” You pant heavily. It felt too good too fast and you know he felt it too as he stretched his forearms on either side of your head.

A long whimper leaves his lips as he sets a faster pace, fucking you into your bed.

He almost looses it completely when he feels you reaching down to rub at your clit, your fingers hitting the base of his cock and his little hairs.

You feel your pussy tightening around him and you know you’re so damn close.

“Yeah, come on, baby. That’s it.” He coaxes you, panting desperately into the crook of your neck.

You feel the fire burning in the pit of your tummy and you know that with a few more thrusts and a few more rubs on your clit that you were done for.

The sounds in your little apartment were filthy. You could hear his hips snapping against yours and both of your groans.

He slowed down his pace as you felt yourself come undone.

“Shit, I’m cumming.” You tell him through gritted teeth, your face only millimeters from his.

He has a wicked smirk on his face and some of his sweaty strands of hair stick to his forehead.

“Me too, fuck, I’m cumming, too.” He says.

You scream as you pulse around his hard cock, not missing the way his own eyes squeeze together, a strong grunt leaving his mouth.

His hips slow down to a stop and when you open your eyes again, he’s already staring down at you.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky.” You say, running your hand through his hair.

Bucky chuckles as he leans forward to leave a kiss on your collarbone.

[thumbgarden]

Tips for caring for blackberries in the fall

Blackberry is similar to raspberry except that its fruit first turns red and then charcoal black. To me, they have a more interesting taste than raspberries, but the seeds are more visible on the teeth. Thanks to the work of plant breeders and the completely thornless varieties they have produced, and thanks to travelers and tourists who have brought new foreign varieties with high-quality fruit to our continent, blackberries are becoming more and more popular and can be seen more and more often on garden plots. However, blackberries tend to grow well only on a trellis, which must be erected in the second year of planting on the plot. The trellis can be placed in the most primitive place. If you have a dozen varieties of blackberries on the plot, plant them with a distance of 6.5 feet (2 meters) between rows so that they do not interfere with each other.

At the edge of the rows, hammer in ordinary metal tubes of 5-6inch (12-15 cm) diameter, make holes in them, and stretch strong wire through them. From the second year on, you can hang blackberry shoots from the wire or twine. Throughout the summer you will be harvesting blackberries and when autumn comes you will be wondering what to do next and how to caring for blackberries! Don't worry: before you remove the blackberry from its stand and place it on a bed of soft leaves or wrap it up with it, you need to prune it hygienically and fertilize it, combined with hydration and moisturizing.

PRUNING BLACKBERRIES There are many subtleties here. You must prune in such a way as to ensure the full growth and development of your blackberry plants later on. Of course, the first order of business is to remove all broken, dry, diseased shoots (no doubt about it), but what's next? Next, you need to relentlessly cut off all shoots that have already borne fruit this year. However, if you are a lucky resident of the southern United States, it is possible not to cut them off completely, but to shorten them to a height of 5 feet (1.5 meters).

All other blackberry shoots, in the current season, unfortunately, our harvest did not satisfy us and you need to prune, removing about 6-8inch (15-20 cm). Most likely, this immature part, even under mulch, will start to behave badly: it may freeze, start to rot, and decay. Naturally, after such an event, all the cut blackberry shoots must be taken out of the area and be sure to burn them, the ashes can be put in a bag: it will come in handy. Let her eat a little, but it (we do not tire of repeating) contains potassium and trace elements that can be fed to, for example, houseplants.

FERTILIZING AND WATERING BLACKBERRIES In what order to do these necessary procedures does not matter at all. Fertilize first and then water, or water first, and then spread the fertilizer on the moist soil - the way you think best.

WATERING BLACKBERRIES Watering well is really just hydrating and moisturizing. If someone tells you he doesn't water his blackberries at all and he has a luxurious yield every year, he is either lying or he has never seen a luxurious yield of blackberries at all. In the first year after planting, when there is no trellis yet, you can only pour 3-4 buckets per square meter of soil. This is best done at the beginning of October when the soil is definitely not frozen yet and it is best to loosen it slightly beforehand. But remember, it should only be loosened slightly. The roots of blackberries must not be touched, and if the roots are damaged then they will start to grow and regrow shoots from the ground (usually with thorns, even if the original shoots did not have any thorns at all). Plants that are still on the trellis, that is, the second and later years after planting, will of course need to be watered twice as much. This is fine. The water will soak deep into the soil and freeze slowly, without causing any damage to the roots. And, if there is a provocative winter thaw, the roots are unlikely to respond to it, and this thawing of blackberries will not cause any damage.

FERTILIZING BLACKBERRIES After watering (let's decide to do just that) fertilize. 50 grams per square meter of dry calcium superphosphate and 25 grams per square meter of potassium sulfate have proven to be the best for blackberries in the fall. You can also cover them with humus about 1 inch thick.

Important! Nitrogen fertilizer should not be applied in autumn, as this will stimulate the growth activity of the shoots and all of them will freeze, maybe even in the quilt.

The easiest thing is done, now it is necessary to carefully remove and cover the blackberry bushes from the trellis.

Important! Alas, but absolutely no damage to the blackberries can withstand frosts of a few tens of degrees Fahrenheit without exceeding a few tens of degrees Fahrenheit. Then already begin negative changes in the tissue, especially at the tips of the shoots. There have been cases where temperatures have dropped sharply from above 32°F (0°C) to slightly negative values, but within a very short period of time, e.g. within a few hours, resulting in death or severe frostbite of uncovered blackberry plants.

THE RIGHT TIME TO MULCH BLACKBERRIES The most appropriate time is often the end of October (in the middle of the US) when it has started to freeze and you can't wait for the warmth to arrive. The most dangerous thing is if the mulching will be followed by a week or even two weeks of really high temperatures or even rain, which can lead to blackberry rooting. For annuals, this is not fatal: from the root buds, the branches rejuvenate again like a bird's "phoenix". Of course, the gardener will lose the whole season, and if he makes repeated mistakes, he will lose the second season. Here we must be guided by the indications of the weather stations, which sometimes tell us exactly when a steady cold spell is coming. And while we wait for the cold, you can treat blackberries with a 3% Bordeaux solution to rid the plants of winter stage pests and diseases.

As long as the temperature goes down below 32°F (0°C) and doesn't even rise above 32°F (0°C) during the day, blackberry mulching is very possible. As we have already said, the period for mulching blackberries is usually in late October or early November in the central part of the U.S. However, this is in the middle of the country. If you live farther south, you may not need mulch at all, or even be prohibited (shoots will be prohibited because inside, under mulch, a lot of completely unnecessary moisture accumulates, and if there is too much moisture, you can even start rotting the roots, and then the blackberries will die completely). If you live in the north, then you can start mulching a whole month earlier. Therefore, before you mulch, you need to remember some important rules.

Rule #1: Blackberries can be ruined not only by a winter with no snow at all but also by a provocative thaw where frost suddenly turns to rain. In this case, the buds will freeze to death, so try to use extra, such as dried leaves, in addition to the main shelter, which can "take the hit". Rule #2: Do not rush to cover blackberries and wait for a light but steady frost, otherwise both roots and buds will simply uproot. As we have already mentioned, if you rush to cover, a lot of water will accumulate under it; in fact, a greenhouse effect will occur, which will damage the above-ground parts of the plant and the root system. In addition, due to the excess of water, various fungi and bacteria develop very actively. In this case, the shrub will regrow in spring, only if the above-ground part dies or if the top is a bit podgy, but if the roots are affected, the site will have to be laid again. Rule #3: If you live in a western area where the thermometer doesn't go below 14°F (-10°C) in the winter, forget about mulching or use a single layer of agricultural fabric, which "breathes".

Those who have mulched their grapes will find it easier, while those who have not will find it more difficult. Blackberry branches, very carefully so as not to break, should be removed from their supports, wire, and placed on the surface of the soil that has been taken by frost, and gently pinned to them. If the bush is large, tie them together with twine before laying. To exclude the blowing of blackberries, or at least minimize it, it is necessary to cover the shoots already laid on the surface of the soil with dry leaves (or lay branches on top of them, sprinkled with leaves in advance), and afterward with a soil mulch film, something that should be fixed and not tear the wind. This can be bricks on the edge, crates, plywood, etc.

THE PERFECT MULCHING MATERIAL Gardeners have debated, are debating, and will continue to debate what is the best mulching material for blackberries. Some try to mulch with film, others use agricultural fabrics exclusively, but trust me, whichever way you choose, it still has pros and cons. Take film for example: if you live in the middle of the country, that's fine, but if you're near the south, obviously the temperature changes in the winter can create condensation under the film, leading to the consequences mentioned above. If you have decided to use film, or if you don't have anything else handy, you can use a layer between the plants and the film, for example, a mulch, as in a layer of moss - with double protection: against moisture and against frost. Then there are agro textiles, a relatively new non-woven material that has perfect permeability to water and air (they "breathe"). Even during the thawing period (which occurs in autumn and winter), agro textiles show their good side: they let water pass through and allow it to evaporate.

However, if there is too much water (i.e. active snowmelt in mid-winter), it cannot cope with the evaporation of excess water and it thaws. Therefore, in areas where thawing is active, you better warn yourself and use fir wood, corn, or at least dry leaves covered with twigs or branches. If you have to choose between light and black wool, it is better to choose light wool, because black wool gets very hot in spring (if you live in the city and your blackberries are in a country house, when you go to the country house it will be cooked under black wool). It is recommended for northerners to use sintepon synthetic mulch film, but it should not be placed on the plant, but on pre-layered leaves, dry and free from all kinds of diseases. However, in warm winters with low snow, plants in northern areas may suffer under this type of mulch.

MISTAKES WHEN MULCHING BLACKBERRIES The first mistake: is not appearing under the cover of the poison of mice (believe me, they eat all the buds). The second mistake: is using sawdust as insulation for blackberries. They absorb moisture very quickly, turn into just a block of ice, and then melt very slowly. I personally found a piece of ice as late as July in a pile of sawdust. What's wrong with that? Blackberries don't warm up in the spring, they slowly wilt under the ice and rocks instead. The third mistake: is using straw for mulch. Straw actively attracts rodents, who settle in it, build "apartment buildings" and live there, eating blackberry buds and nibbling on shoots, and in spring it is not easy to remove all the semi-digested winter straw from the site.

The fourth mistake: is delaying the removal of mulch material. Remember to run to the site as soon as the snow melts and the temperature rises to remove the mulching material: a strong frost will not, but a thaw may occur. Make sure you remove the mulching material before the buds on the blackberries swell. Basically, there is nothing particularly complicated: a dozen shrubs, primitive trellis, no less primitive shelter, and the main thing - all the time and at the same time, do not forget the rodents.

#ThumbGarden #Fruits #Blackberries #Blackberry #Garden #Orchard #Mulching #Tips #UrbanGarden #SmallGarden #OutdoorGarden #PlantCare #Care #Inspired #Fertilize #Watering #Pruning #Autumn #Fall

Author: Ms.Geneva Link: https://www.thumbgarden.com/caring-for-blackberries/ Source: ThumbGarden The copyright belongs to the author. For commercial reprints, please contact the author for authorization, and for non-commercial reprints, please indicate the source.

[blankblankityblank]

Just, don’t wake up

Hi everyone! This is my fic for the @starkerkink exchange, dedicated to @vaguekiwi! I really hope you enjoy it :)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Tony Stark

High school AU, with superpowers.

Tony’s home life has never been amazing, but one night, it’s just too much for him. He flies blindly to the first destination he can think of in his battered suit, holding his breath when he realises exactly who’s house he’s flown to. He doubts this evening will be normal, especially when he realises there’s only one bed.

Warnings: Masturbation, Flogging, Name-calling, Restraints, slightly dub-con, both 17. Check ao3 for further warnings!

Read on ao3!

Tony arrived late to class, as usual. Peter sighed, the usual thought flitting through his head: How does he always manage to arrive late, even with a full body suit that flies?

The teacher for their class, AP Bio, glanced at Tony unimpressed but unsurprised-this was a regular occurrence, and it showed.

Tony waltzed to his seat with the usual I-really-don’t-give-a-shit attitude, plonking down and prompt executing a yawn. Peter rolled his eyes; did he always have that look on his hot face? How did he even get into AP Bio when he didn’t even pay attention? Oh yeah, that’s right-Howard Stark’s son, prodigy at 4, bla bla bla. Peter needed a break from the constant ‘Tony Stark made his own suit’ fawning that half the girls, and guys, constantly exhibited. Like yeah, big deal-was anyone gonna talk about Peter’s amazing skills to do with web fluid? Or crafting his own suits, which, well, didn’t always go particularly well?

“And today, we will be taking a bit of an off-topic turn into some neurobiology! Chemicals and hormones produced by the brain!” The teacher sang, trying to mask her own boredom with the unresponsive class, “who can tell me what the four main hormones to do with happiness contain?”

Peter shot his hand up, excited that he for once knew the answer to the question before smart-ass Tony.

“The four main chemicals are endorphins, dopamine, serotonin, and oxytocin, often abbreviated as D.O.S.E,” Peter stated. Tony slowly turned around in his chair, and glared at him. Peter just smirked. ‘One day,’ he mouthed at the growingly frustrated classmate.

“Very good! Can someone tell me what each of these hormones’ functions are?” Their teacher again asked. Peter’s hand shot up for the second time, his mouth forming a smirk in sync.

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

“Well well well, if it isn’t smart-ass Parker in a sticky situation?” Tony purred, his smooth voice richoeing off of the poorly-designed science lab. Peter sighed, closing his eyes in preparation before facing the problem.

“Does it look like I don’t know what I’m doing? Wouldn’t wanna steal your thunder now, would I?” He snarked back, trying to stir his web fluid in peace. The teacher had allowed his class 15 minutes of time to work on their various powers, any tweaks or fixes being attended to. Tony had apparently finished oiling up his suit, but Peter had no such privilege.

Tony flicked the back of Peter’s head as he strutted away, going over to talk to Steve and Bucky. Goddamned overpowered mutants. Ok, so maybe Peter was a tiny bit jealous of their friendship, but that was his business.

He dispensed the web fluid with a sigh, getting ready to pack up and head back to his apartment, and hopefully blow off some steam with a Star Wars movie night. He smiled softly to himself; maybe the day wouldn’t be so bad after all. He could chill with may, have some hot chocolate, quote every line of Empire Strikes Back because he totally doesn’t know it word for word.

The bell rang, immediately followed by a cacophony of bags zipping, several whirring sounds as various students fired up their ride home. Peter ducked his head down, knowing his power wasn’t as rich or powerful as his classmates’ privileged ones. And they didn’t even know it, how lucky they were. They’d never know what it’s like to be born with stickiness and a general strength upgrade. No super-advanced knowledge of tech, engineering, how to fly, being able to fly...everything that separated him from the rest of his peers.

Peter swung his backpack over his shoulder, cursing as his AP Bio textbook dropped onto the ground, setting off a too-loud thump on the concrete floor. A few heads swivelled in his direction, and Peter flushed as he hurriedly picked the offending book up, and returned it to its rightful place. Face still hot, he all but rushed out of the classroom, eager to change into his suit and get this day over with.

“Hey! Parker! Wait up, for fuck’s sake. You dropped two books, not one, you blind-ass bat,” Tony hollered, his feet slapping against the linoleum. Peter grabbed the exercise book from Tony’s offering hand, not dignifying the teen with a response. Ok, so maybe it was a bit harsh. But he had to stay ice-cold around Tony; if it got out Parker had a crush, it would not go down well. At. All.

“You’re not even gonna say thanks?” Tony spluttered in disbelief, hand still outstretched.

“Nope,” Peter replied, popping the ‘p’.

“Pretty sure I deserve some recognition, I could have just left that book on the floor for some other snotty-nosed kid to find,” Tony said indignantly, hand returned to his side.

“Well then don’t do it next time. I don’t give a shit, Stark,” Peter fired back, attempting to quell his progressingly noticeable butterflies.

Tony opened his mouth in a retort, but instead opted for an eye roll and spun on his heel. Probably to get back to his fancy 5 star penthouse, Peter thought bitterly. He headed to the bathrooms, diligently fighting his instinct to catch a glance of that ass. God, he was so, so gone.

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

Peter entered his apartment silently, not wanting to disturb May. He kicked off his shoes, deflating his suit and carrying the rest of his belongings to his room. Or, his cave, as May liked to call it. The 16 year old dungeon was another favourite of hers.

“May? ‘M home..” He trailed off when the bright Post-it note caught his eye. He frowned, peeling it off the bench and reading the bubbly handwriting. ‘Picked up an extra shift, be home tomorrow at 7! Sorry I couldn’t make it tonight kiddo xx’ Well. He could kiss his plans of venting to may goodbye, it seemed. Hot chocolate and a movie night still lifted his hopes, albeit less enthusiastic with no one to share it with now. The teen hummed the Star Wars theme song as he boiled the water and got his hot chocolate ready. He finished his task from earlier, dumping his stuff in an impossibly messy room that cleaning seemed impossible. There were things he didn’t want to uncover by doing so.

The TV flickered to life, selecting the chosen movie as directed by Peter. He sipped on his hot chocolate, swearing softly when the liquid burnt his tongue. It’d probably need to cool, considering the loss of feeling in his taste buds. The TV screen suddenly paused the movie, indicating the buffering icon as the infuriatingly slow loading bar popped up.

“For fucks’ sake…” Peter muttered, deciding to take a quick shower to pass the time. He didn’t bother getting clothes, seeing as he was the only one home. He padded to the bathroom, turning the shower on and watching as the water slowly began to produce steam. He then stripped, chucking his clothes into the overflowing hamper and stepping into the soothing water. He let it wash over him, adjusting himself to the temperature as he scrubbed himself with vanilla soap, the day’s events flicking hazily through his mind.

The teen looked down, noticing his growing hard-on. Maybe his thoughts about Tony had taken a...darker turn. He palmed himself half-heartedly, almost jolting when the spark of arousal ran through his body. He groaned softly to himself, putting more energy into pumping his hard on. His precum provided lubricant, his hand going up and down faster and faster until he was right on the edge and it felt so good, and-

Peter pulled his hand off, letting his erect cock bob helplessly in the air. He was breathing hard, not having reached his orgasm. It just...it didn’t feel right. He rubbed soap on his body again, his dick slowly returning to it’s normal size.

The shower came to a close after 15 minutes of staring at the wall, he may or may not have been thinking about a certain black head of hair, brown eyes flecked with gold, the body of a Greek god...maybe he lost track of time, but it was time well spent in Peter’s opinion. He towelled himself off with less energy, suddenly losing the motivation to actually dry himself off-probably because all his brain power was used trying to figure out a certain someone’s personality.

He plopped onto his nest of blankets and pillows, smiling when he saw the movie was ready to watch again. He hit play, content with the world at last.

That is, until some fucking idiot banged, not knocked, banged, on Peter’s door. He resolutely ignored it, turning the volume of the TV to max. Until, the banging didn’t stop. It just kept going. And going. And going-

“This better be a real good fucking reason,” Peter snarled, pausing his movie with more force than he probably needed to, and he stomped to the door.

The assault on the door didn’t stop, even when Peter yelled ‘Coming!’ to try and ease the banging. It did not succeed. He swung open the door, fuming, the epitome of annoyance as expressed on his face. He was ready to give this newcomer a piece of his mind, what, interrupting his fucking movie night, the audacity-

The words died in his throat as he looked up to launch a deadly glare, only to be met with chocolate brown eyes, flecked with gold, a soft pink cupid’s bow, the presence of stubble beginning to form a goatee, and oh wait, he’s seen this before, wait a minute-

“Tony?” He spluttered, taking a step back as he took in the scene before him. Tony, in a banged up suit he probably used as his transportation, his hand poised to bang at the door again. Tony’s expression mirrored Peter’s, a mixture of shock and confusion. Unlike Peter’s, Tony’s cleared quickly, and formed a new expression-one of almost desperation.

“Look, Parker, I’m sorry alright? I just...I need somewhere to stay tonight,” he rubbed a hand over his face, “forget it. I knew it was stupid to come, sorry for wasting your time I guess,” he muttered, already pivoting on his heel. Without his conscious consent, Peter grabbed Tony’s arm as he turned away. They both froze, neither knowing what Peter did.

“Wait, I...you can stay, Tony. You can come in, I just was watching Empire Strikes Back,” Peter ranted, gently tugging Tony inside. The latter seemed to be in a state of shock, obviously not expecting the positive response.

“Empire Strikes Back? You would be watching that, of all movies,” Tony snarked, recovering quickly from his bout of shock.

“You’re the guest, at least try to be nice,” Peter countered, blushing at the tips of his ears from embarrassment. He huffed, flopping onto his comfortable collection of pillows. He raised an eyebrow meaningfully at Tony, who looked a little out of place with his scratched suit. Peter was curious, but didn’t pry-there was obviously something that caused Tony to come in so suddenly.

“Being nice? To Parker? Talk to me when you have an achievable goal,” Tony grumbled, walking around to tour Peter’s apartment. Peter hoped it would be up to his standards. Wait, no he didn’t, Tony’s standards didn’t matter to him. At all.

Peter resumed his movie, soon becoming engrossed in the iconic plotline that he’d seen hundreds of times before, yet it never failed to make him excited. Tony watched his classmate from the shadows, the smile on Peter’s face contagious. His auburn curls, sharp jawline...Picture perfect Tony mused, as the lights from the movie danced across Peter’s angelic features. Tony shook his head, afraid of getting caught in the act-someone that beautiful would never return his feelings.

The depressing thought prompted Tony to emerge from the shadows, gliding over to where Peter was laying down and slumped nearby, resigning himself to the fact he’d have to watch this nerd movie. His suit whirred in the corner, fixing its own malfunctions as Tony had programmed it to.

“I don’t even know what the fuck is going on, Parker,” Tony muttered, the movie’s plot confusing him due to the lack of knowledge in previous films.

Peter just smiled, deciding it would take too long to explain the plot. Tony saw this, and a small smile spread across his face, too. It was nice to have a friend that just accepted you into their home, even if you had no explanation. Well, he couldn’t really tell the boy his explanation. Home was...a bit hard to go to at the moment, not that he’d ever tell Parker. He glanced at the serene expression on Peter’s face again, taking in the pure joy as he watched his seemingly favourite movie. Yeah, he was not gonna spoil that expression. Not ever.

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

The movie’s credits rolled, signifying the end of the movie night. Tony softly blew out through his nose, wondering if it would be overstepping to stay the night. Before he could dig a hole of despair within himself, Peter noticed his obvious inner battle. Deciding to put the rivalry behind him for now, he reached out to Tony, gently touching his arm and effectively grabbing his attention.

“We should head to bed...if you’re ok with that,” Peter murmured, gently tugging Tony’s arm as he stood up.

Tony sucked in a breath at sparks of pleasure that rippled through him as Peter’s hand lingered. He got to his feet, following Peter through the apartment, taking in the few decorations and pictures. He paused at an old picture of an obviously much younger picture of Peter, sitting on a man’s shoulders. He looked so...well, happy. Tony frowned; what had happened? Not wanting to intrude, he tucked the question away for later, and hurried to catch up with Peter.

“So, this is it. The humble abode, I guess,” Peter chuckled nervously, giving a dramatic wave with his hands. Tony looked around, taking in the worn twin bed, well-read books mounted on shelves that looked as if they could fall at any minute, the stained dresser, obviously the victim of many late-night hot chocolate spills. Tony could feel a slight smile tugging at his lips-this felt like Peter.

“Humble, huh. Didn’t know you were a Potter fan,” Tony smirked, gesturing at the aforementioned books. A red blush tinted the teen’s cheeks as he rushed to defend himself.

“I’ll have you know Harry Potter is a very famous series, thank you very much,” he huffed, crossing his arms. The following silence was comfortable, Peter rifling through his dresser as he looked for his pyjamas. He succeeded, muttering a soft ‘aha’ at the victory, and turned to head to the bathroom.

“Get yourself comfy, you can sleep wherever, couch or bed,” Peter stated, trying not to blush for a third time in an hour. He made quick work of changing, exiting the bathroom once he was satisfied with his appearance. A new toothbrush smacked Tony in the back of the head, credits of Peter.

“The fuck, Parker? Why couldn’t you just ask me to turn around,” Tony muttered, grabbing the toothbrush and making his way to the meager bathroom. He cleaned his teeth, checked his face for any signs of, well, outstanding blemishes, and once satisfied, returned to the bedroom. Peter was already in the bed, having turned off the lights and receiving a wave of sleepiness that he couldn’t refuse.

Tony hesitated before quietly sliding in beside Peter, careful not to touch him in hopes of keeping him comfortable. After all, this was Peter’s bed. He shifted, finding the proximity a little too...exciting.

Peter stirred, muttering something incomprohensive that sounded suspiciously like ‘Stop fucking moving,’ which Tony grudgingly obeyed. He found himself drifting sooner than he usually did; maybe it was the company that finally got his eyes to close, who knows. It just felt good to be cared about.

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

“Fuck, harder Tony,” Peter cried out, relishing the feeling of the flogger on his burnt ass, “please. Please Tony, ah!”

Tony whipped mercilessly, painting the teen’s ass and lower back a pretty scarlet colour. He knew Peter loved it, despite the whimpers of pain as he relentlessly assaulted his body, again and again.

“Little slut, begging for me to stop like a good little bitch. Ask me nicely, I might consider,” Tony snarled, drinking in the moans that came tumbling out of Peter’s mouth at the sentence.

“P-please, I promise I’ll be your good little cockslut, please just let me go,” Peter repeated, rolling his eyes back from pleasure. His cock twitched at the constant stimulation, begging for touch, but Peter couldn’t move, the restraints preventing him from relief.

Tony growled, pausing the flogging at 15 hits. “You better live up to that, whore,” he snarled, taking in the sight before him. Peter, bound to the bed face-down, bent over the back, ass on display. His petite frame quivered in anticipation, preparing for more of the flogging.

“Yes, Tony, I promise I’ll be good, no more,” Peter begged, too aroused to care how desperate he might sound. He jerked his hips forward, trying and failing miserably to acquire friction for his painfully hard dick.

Tony untied the restraints slowly, careful not to hurt his lover any more, now that the scene was over. Peter sobbed, reaching down almost immediately to try and relieve his aching cock. Tony slapped Peter’s hand away, taking the matters into his own hands.

“Such a naughty boy, trying to touch yourself without permission. What do we say?” Tony crooned, teasing Peter’s tip. The latter cried out, grinding against Tony’s hand in hopes of release.

“‘M sorry, so sorry, please, please let me-ah!” Peter abruptly cut off his rambling as Tony took him in hand, stroking along his length tantalisingly. Peter sobbed, crying out as the feeling grew. He centered in on the sensation Tony was giving him, pumping his dick with such earnest it was almost too much, the heat building in his lower abdomen, ready to burst-

Peter woke up with a start, acutely aware of his burning arousal. Oh. Oh shit. He just had one of those dreams...about Tony. Who was right next to him. Peter sucked in a breath, his eyes going wide. He calculated his options, quickly realising he couldn’t move without waking him up.

He cursed the lack of space in the bed, horror taking over as his arousal became too prominent to ignore. He whined softly into his pillow, at loss with how to deal with the predicament. How did things go so badly wrong so soon?

As if things couldn’t get any worse, Tony elicited a groan in the silence of the room and shifted to that his hip was pressed against Peter’s...problem. He unconsciously bucked into the stimulation, immediately regretting the action as Tony groaned again and moved, if possible, closer to his dick. Well, wasn’t this just amazing.

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

Tony awoke from his sweet abyss of darkness, groaning in annoyance. What had woken him up? He thought he’d heard a whimper, but that couldn’t be right. He shuffled closer to his warm pillow, which promptly moved back against him. Tony froze; pillows weren’t supposed to move. Pillows...also didn’t have a bulge. He recovered quickly, a smirk slowly growing when he realised what had happened here. Parker was hard. So, so hard.

Tony groaned again, this time intentionally shifting against Peter’s bulge to try and gauge how exactly this was going to play out. He was met almost immediately with a response as Peter grinded against him. Tony stifled a moan; it was insanely hot, how responsive Peter was. He was obviously trying to hold back, covering his mouth as he desperately sought relief against Tony. The latter helpfully shifted again, receiving a small squeak in response. Peter’s hand snaked down to his cock, unable to hold back anymore. Tony closed his eyes, savouring this moment-possibly the only time he’d get to be this intimate with his crush, even if he was ‘asleep’.

Peter palmed against his sweats, the pleasure making his breathing uneven as he neared his climax. He felt so bad for doing this with Tony in the same bed, but he was past the point of being able to control his movements. The pressure built up inside him like a spring coiled at it’s base, as he desperately rutted against his hand, when it all became too much-and Peter went rigid. The white-hot pleasure consumed his body, racking through him in wave after wave as he tried to silently ride out his orgasm. The spurts of come soaked his boxers, but Peter was too out of his mind to care as the high slowly came down. His breathing was hard and his sweats were cold and sticky, but the aftershocks of the orgasm jerked his softening cock.

The world slowly came back to him as Peter blinked a couple times, trying to orient himself. The first thing he thought was oh shit, now I’ll have to lie in this mess until Tony wakes up.

That is, until he realised a tiny detail. Tony’s back and hip was completely covered. In. Peter’s. Cum.

Peter looked up slowly, the horror beginning to consume him. His entire body froze when Tony looked right back at him.

[strawberrysoup]

Let’s Review || Chapter 8

Peter Parker knew that his big sister would do anything for him to be safe and happy. She’d given up everything for him twice over already and would do it again in a heartbeat. And that’s why, when the criminal mastermind Tony Stark started inextricably following him around, he didn’t say a word. Because he knew without a doubt Penny would do whatever she had to if it meant keeping Peter safe. He had to protect her, just like she always protected him. He never considered what would happen if Stark decided both Parker siblings were worth taking. Never considered who else in Stark’s inner circle would agree. He just wanted to protect her and yet somehow, they both ended up with needles in their necks.

relationship: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character/Bucky Barnes, background Peter Parker/Tony Stark rating: Explicit/18+ warnings: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Dark Tony Stark, Dark Avengers, kidnapping, non-con/dub-con elements, underage Peter Parker, emotional and psychological abuse, very dark 

Penny had only calmed down after being threatened with another sedative. There was no fucking way she was letting them put her under again, she refused to be unconscious and vulnerable around them. JARVIS, an AI invented by Stark apparently, had alerted them that Tony had requested they attend breakfast around 5am, which was insanely early but it wasn’t like she would be getting any more sleep anyway.

Bucky and Steve had insisted she shower and dress before they went to breakfast. In any other situation, she would’ve told them to get fucked, how dare they tell her what to do— but it was heavily implied that Peter would be there for breakfast. So she walked docilely into the bathroom, slamming the door shut in Bucky’s face before he could follow her, and flipped the lock.

Creepily, the shower was stocked with everything she would’ve used at home. The same brands, same items. It was another little invasion that made goosebumps erupt over her skin despite the warmth of the water. She was halfway through the arduous process of washing her when a knock came at the door.

“Penny! You need clothes and towels, I’m coming in,” Steve called in warning and she would’ve rolled her eyes if she hadn’t had them closed.

“You can’t, the door’s loc—”

Her words were cut off by a metallic crunch. Dread spread through her, had he just broken the lock?

“We’ll never complain about you locking a door, doll, but it’s only fair that you realize it doesn’t make any difference,” there was a sharp inhale and then she could hear the salacious smile cross his face, “what a fuckin’ view.”

Like most people with natural curls, Penny washed her hair upside down. Bent at the waist, back facing the bathroom door, she realized he was staring directly at her bare ass through the glass door.

“Now that is a pretty pussy, sweetheart,” Bucky’s voice broke her out of her horrified, frozen state and she stood up so fast she lost her footing on the slick tiles.

She landed roughly on the hard floor, shoving her face back into the spray to clean the soap away from her closed eyes as fast as possible. She could hear a pile of fabric hit the counter at the same time the shower door was pulled open. Frigid air blasted over her for a second before it was pulled closed again. There was only time for a moment of anticipation before arms wrapped under her bust and pulled her up and back into a very naked body.

Shock pumped through her, one of the arms was metal. Like some sort of super advanced prosthetic. It moved just like the flesh arm, tightening around her rib cage in what was probably supposed to be a reassuring squeeze.

“Let’s get all of that soap out of your hair before I get too distracted, huh babydoll?” Bucky was the one with the metal arm and he shuffled her forward while he spoke, back into the stream of water, “don’t want you to get any in your eyes.”

The shower door opened again just as her head was plunged under the spray and she had to clench her eyes just against the spray and soap. Knowing they were both in there with her had her muscles all pulling taught. It was a fight she couldn’t really afford but she started gearing up anyway. She’d give them Hell before—

“Shhh, precious, breathe,” Steve came to stand in front of her, blocking most of the spray and wiping her eyes gently with his thumbs, “you’re alright, we’re not going to hurt you. We’ll never hurt you baby.”

She could feel his body contort as he reached behind him, grabbing the detachable shower head and pulling it down to position over her head. Multiple sets of gentle fingers began combing through her hair, rinsing the shampoo. They were silent as they proceeded to put conditioner in it.

“We’re gonna buy you better stuff than this,” Bucky said softly, twisting the long rope of her hair up into a bun before using a hair tie off his own wrist to secure it out of the water while the conditioner soaked in, “fancy stuff for your curly hair. Bath wash that smells better than plain soap. Whatever lotions and products that you want.”

When she didn’t answer, Steve pressed closer to her front. One of his arms joined Bucky’s around her waist while the other came up to her face, thumb brushing across her jaw bone. A shiver passed through her whole body as he came to rest seamlessly against her, the skin to skin contact as foreign as everything else that had happened over the last 48 hours. The blonde was murmuring something against the top of her head, his lips brushing against her wet hair and down to her forehead before she could actually hear his words.

“—so beautiful, precious girl, we’re so glad you’re with us now. We’re gonna take such good care of you, baby—”

Bucky’s had shifted over her rib cage, one going high to cup her breast and the other, the metal one, going low. His fingers curved over her skin, slipping between her legs to caress the crease of her thigh. The hand on her breast mimicked the soft touch, the pad of his thumb sliding against her nipple.

“S-Stop,” her words came out in a panicked breath, “don’t touch… don’t touch me—”

“It’s okay, sweetheart, I’m not Brock,” the brunet cooed into her ear, “when I take you it’s gonna feel so good, that pussy’s gonna come all over my cock.”

“We’ll be as patient as we can be, doll,” Steve’s lips continued their path down the side of her face, coming to rest on the delicate skin below her ear, “we know you’re sensitive after what he did to you. Do you wanna see a therapist about it baby? We can make that happen.”

It was surreal, the words coming out of the man’s mouth. Bringing up a nasty sexual assault while she was being sexually assaulted. Could he not hear what he was saying? Did the words not sound the same way to him? Offering therapy, as if that was what she needed therapy for. That was the squeaky wheel in her psyche.

She didn’t respond, ignoring the pair as Bucky pulled his hands back to her hair and began pulling out the ponytail. Apparently they’d been in the shower long enough and as they began to rinse the conditioner out she wondered just how long it had been. It felt like a life time. She’d been trapped in that stupid shower for ages now, being touched and fondled against her will. Her stomach felt like it had settled into her throat.

Nausea continued to well in her as they turned the water off and Steve retrieved towels, gently wrapping a giant purple one around her. He held on for several moments after tying it, rubbing her back up and down through the fabric. Would it matter if she asked him to stop touching her?

“You’ve got about twenty minutes to get dressed, sweetheart,” Bucky settled his hands on her shoulders, passing his thumbs idly over her bare skin, “do you need a blow dryer? An extra towel?”

She literally couldn’t even decide what to say, couldn’t figure out if she could keep herself from screaming if she opened her mouth, so she shook her head. The look they passed each other was lost on her, too distracted by her own thoughts.

Had Peter been treated the same way she had? Was that pedophile putting his hands on her baby brother while she couldn’t stop him? The age of consent in New York was 17 but it didn’t matter, he was still a kid. He hadn’t even graduated from high school yet.

“Let’s get you dry baby,” Bucky said quietly when she continued to stand in place for another half a minute, unmoving, “into some soft clothes, huh? We’ll go eat breakfast and you can see Peter and then you can rest all day. Maybe we can do some shopping online for our place, get some stuff you like.”

They once again went without a response, the brunet sighing slightly at her unyielding silence and unwound the tie in the towel Steve had made. She barely shifted as he carefully ran the fabric over her damp skin, listening as his boyfriend requested JARVIS change the temperature in the bathroom and turn on the fans. Living in such an automated place would take some getting used to, for both Penny and Peter.

Bucky turned Penny to face him, tugging her close and forcing her to lean most of her body weight against his chest, “lift your legs so Stevie can get your panties on baby.”

She did as directed without hesitation, Steve sliding the soft material up her legs gently. The underwear were almost too small and he had to stop himself from groaning at the way her ass peaked out from the bottoms. Buck met his eyes from over Penny’s shoulder and gave him a careful smirk.

“Again baby, let Steve help with your pants.” Soft sweatpants came to cover the boner inducing panties, the blond standing up in the process to press against her back.

Skin contact might’ve been what inevitably broke down Penny’s walls. They could tell she was touch starved, the way goosebumps rose on her arms anytime they tucked up close. There would be a careful shiver, an almost instinctual curl against the heat source offered. She was desperate for contact but fighting out of principle.

Steve ran his nose gently along her bare shoulder, one arm wrapped around her rib cage and the other tugging Bucky closer to her front. She sunk, inch by inch, into the embrace until they were holding up the majority of her body weight.

“So sweet, baby,” the blond murmured quietly, enjoying the way her body curved around his arm slightly, “precious.”

Reluctantly, they helped her into the shirt Steve had brought in from their closet, one that they both wore but Bucky usually claimed. It was soft and long sleeved, leading the brunet to roll the sleeves up several times to reveal her hands and forearms.

“Captain, Sergeant, it’s been requested that I inform you that it is five minutes past 5am and that Mr. Parker is having difficulties behaving in the absence of his sister.”

Penny’s head shot up, eyes going to the ceiling, “What’s wrong with him? What’s wrong with Peter?”

“He misses you something terrible, Ms. Parker,” the AI informed her calmly, “he is otherwise perfectly fine.”

“Can we go?” Dark brown eyes flitted between Steve and Bucky’s faces as she pulled out from between them both, anxiously inching towards the bathroom door, “please? Please can we go?”

“Hold on baby, let us get dressed real quick,” Bucky grabbed a pair of jeans off the bathroom counter, tugging them on while Steve did the same with a pair of joggers.

The blond tossed a t-shirt to Bucky as they both began moving, tugging on a tank top as he did so. His hand came to rest on Penny’s back, gently leading her out into the hallway and towards the elevator.

“ETA?”

Bucky looked at him in confusion for a moment before he hummed, “0800.”

Penny hardly spared them a glance as she stepped into the elevator, ignoring Bucky’s attempt to draw her closer and stared at the numbers changing on the panel above the doors.

Steve leaned against the wall, “sitrep?”

“All clear so far.”

Really, they didn’t need to speak in code. Penny wouldn’t have cared even if she could understand what they were saying. All she could think about as the elevator came to a stop several floors up and the doors opened, was getting to Peter. She desperately needed to make sure he was okay.

“This way sweetheart,” Bucky put his hand back on her back and led her through the doorways to Tony’s private kitchen, “He’ll be in here—”

Penny disappeared from under his hand a second later, hurtling herself at Mach 5 across the kitchen. Peter had come flying from the opposite direction at the same speed and they collided spectacularly, ending up in a heap on the tiled floor. Their weight distribution ended up with Peter hovering over her, clutching Penny to his chest while she clung to him with both arms and legs.

“Are you okay? Peter, baby are you okay? Are you oka—” the words were whispered, barely audible if it wasn’t for enhanced hearing, and repeated over and over again.

He was answering her, yes Penny, yes I’m okay, yes, I’m okay Penny but she wasn’t truly hearing him. Bucky and Tony made quick eye contact before nodding, the shorter man moving forward to remove the teenager from the floor and subsequently, his sister. Bucky was quick to follow, picking Penny up but quickly setting her back on her feet while Tony did the same.

They collided again, this time both staying on their feet. Penny’s head was tucked into her brother’s neck, still murmuring to him but this time in another language. He was nodding along with whatever she was saying, holding her so tightly against him that they almost worried about her spine. Both were openly crying, Penny’s nose turning bright red.

“Come on you two, let’s sit down and eat,” Steve managed to coerce the pair into chairs, barely managing to get them to each sit by themselves.

“Penny—” Peter’s voice cracked, disappearing into a whisper.

“It’s okay, Peter, it’s okay,” it didn’t sound like she believed what she was saying, Penny’s voice was trembling and it struck Steve right in the heart.

He carefully lifted her out of her chair and sat down in her place, having her come to rest in his lap. Peter reared back as if struck, only to have Tony wrap an arm around his waist from the end of the table and tug him close, chair and all. The extra foot of space between the siblings was nearly nonexistent but they both immediately started to reach for each other, like they were being pulled to opposite ends of the Earth.

“Calm down,” Tony ordered gently, reaching up to stroke Peter’s hair, “you’re fine, Penny’s right there, just breathe.”

Steve carefully nudged Penny’s head to rest against his wide chest, hushing her quietly, “we’re not taking you away, we’re just gonna eat breakfast. Aren’t you hungry, baby? It’s been almost a full day since you ate.”

Bucky started piling food onto the plate in front of her and Steve immediately, his seat at the end of the table making it easy to reach everything, “let’s get you fed, angel, I know you’re tired.”

Tony had done the same for him and Peter, nudging the boy to pick up a fork and start eating. Penny wasn’t quite so lucky, as Steve was the one who grabbed the fork in front of them. For a moment she wasn’t sure what to expect, but then he brought the loaded fork to her lips and she had a moment of rage.

They could all see if play over her face, even Peter, as she considered the food in front of her. How Steve was trying to feed her, how Tony had dragged her brother out of reach, how she was being carefully restrained. For a moment it looked like the eruption of anger might spill out, but Tony cleared his throat and Bucky shifted in his seat. He reached out with metal fingers and brushed her cheek, pressing her head closer to the fork.

“Be a good girl, Penny. Eat your breakfast, talk with your brother,” his gaze was imploring and stern, “good girls get rewards, baby, naughty girls get punishments.”

“Your sister takes good care of you, doesn’t she Peter?” Tony directed his attention at the boy sitting so close he was nearly in his lap.

“Y-Yeah,” Peter gulped, anxiety drying his mouth, “always, s-she always takes care of me.”

“Does she take care of herself, baby boy?”

Penny called herself a dumb ass on a regular basis but she immediately saw through the manipulation. Her eyes homed in on the genius and she felt her lips contorting into a snarl, especially with the way Peter seemed to hesitate. His eyes seemed to rake over her, taking in the dark circles under her eyes, the too thin column of her neck emphasized by the oversized shirt.

“I take care of myself just fine, stop trying to lead him like that,” she spat, “stop trying to put things into his head.”

“I’m not putting anything into his head, precious,” Tony smiled coyly and shook his head, “Peter’s a smart boy, he’ll come to his own conclusions.”

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Pete?” Steve asked kindly, letting his hand come to rest under the hem of Penny’s shirt and enjoying the tremor that ran through her at the contact.

“Penny takes care of me first and herself second, no matter what,” the teenager answered, sad brown eyes settling on his sister’s face, “education, money, food, all of it.”

“Peter, stop, don’t let them get to you,” she tried to shift closer to her brother but was brought back by Steve’s firm hold, “get off! Peter—”

“Hush doll,” the blond ordered sternly, bringing his hand up to cup the side of her face, pressing her cheek to his chest and resting his thumb somewhat forcefully on the joint of her jaw, “take a bite.”

A moment of indecision visibly passed through her before Penny allowed herself to be fed. The fight over food wasn’t worth it, wasn’t worth being potentially dragged away from Peter. The debate though, that was worth it, the look in Peter’s eyes was enough to convince her.

“Nothing I’ve ever done for Peter has been a burden,” she locked eyes with her little brother, determination clear, “there’s nothing I regret.”

“Of course not, precious,” Tony shook his head, “I’d never imply that Peter was a burden. I know you love him unconditionally. But you have to admit, you’ve made a lot of sacrifices for him. Don’t you think you might’ve let your own health and happiness fall to the side?”

“No.” There was no hesitation or thought before she answered, forcing herself to chew another bite when it was held up to her, “Taking care of Peter makes me happy.”

“We know, sweetheart,” Bucky reached over and took one of her hands, “but other things will make you happy too. You can love Peter without having to devote every minute of your life to him, you know?”

“That’s why you don’t have to worry about taking care of Peter anymore, angel,” Tony smiled, the look on Penny’s face was full of disdain but it didn’t dampen his affection for her, “you still get to be with him, you still get to love him, but he’s not your responsibility anymore. You don’t have to break your back over him, all you have to do is love him. Doesn’t that sound nice? Not having to constantly worry about money and paying for his school? Or about making your eighty different schedules work together?”

“Bite, baby,” Steve directed her attention once again, making her eat before she could answer.

Tony directed Peter to eat too, while she was chewing. She watched as the older man filled his plate, pulled a cup of juice closer to him. He touched Peter with reverence and adoration. She hated it. Hated his hands on her brother. Hated that he thought he could tell Peter what to do. Simmering rage was building under her skin, ready to erupt.

“I want to take care of Peter,” her teeth were clenched, hands tightened into fists in her lap, “I don’t care what I have to do, I want to take care of him—”

Steve’s hand came to rest directly over her sternum, having set down the fork while she spoke, and he pressed down with just enough force to make her nervous, “me and Bucky are going to do everything we can to make you happy, Penny, but you’re not always going to get what you want. Things are different now.”

“He’s my broth—”

“She’s like a chihuahua.”

Heads snapped up all around the table, Penny and Peter watching in disbelief as the vent cover over the stove wiggled violently for a moment before abruptly falling off. It hit the floor with a clang, a man tumbling out of the air vent a moment later. He also hit the floor, after bouncing off the stove. Steve had to restrain Penny from running over to check on him out of instinct.

“Congratulations dumbass,” Tony deadpanned as the man groaned and shifted in a heap on the tile, “you’re officially the only person to continuously injure themselves falling out of air vents in the tower.”

“Wrong!” He argued, flopping onto his back and pointing in the vague direction of the table, “Barnes has also ate shit falling out of the vents multiple times.”

Penny and Peter watched as the two men sitting at the table leveled Bucky with questioning looks. The brunet was very carefully avoiding their gaze, cutting the pancakes on his plate into precise triangles. Usually, as the guardian of a teenage boy, Penny took avoidance as a sign of guilt and she felt her lips curl.

“You’re too bulky to be in the vents Buck,” Steve gave him a stern look which his boyfriend continued to ignore, turning his eyes on the smirking Penny instead.

“Wanna bite, doll?” He held up a fork with pancake on the end and Penny narrowed her eyes slightly before giving in and taking it.

“Is that why you have a huge bruise on your back?” She asked pointedly, realizing that getting the man in trouble was likely her best bet to deviate their attention from her.

Bucky looked stricken at her words, eyes quickly darting to Steve who looked less than pleased, “JARVIS keeps dropping the vent covers without warning!”

“That’s because you’re not supposed to be in the vents!” Stark literally threw his hands up in exasperation, looking taxed to the core, “it’s meant to dissuade you!”

“Physical deterrents don’t work on some children,” Penny stated with a snarky smile.

“See, a chihuahua; the most vicious attack dog on the planet.”

“Peter, Penny, this dumbass is Clint Barton, who was told to fuck off for at least the next two days,” Bucky waved a flippant hand in the blond man’s direction, a glare on his face.

“I won’t be kept away from my children!”

“Clint, they’re not your kids.”

“I’ve claimed them, they’re mine.”

“They’re not—”

“DIBS!”

“You can’t dibs people, Clint!”

“Fuckin— you assclowns dibs-ed people, that’s why we’re in this situation.”

“But if they dibsed us,” Peter frowned slightly, “you can’t dibs us again, we were already dibsed.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Penny muttered quietly, covering her eyes with a hand, “Peter, really? Kidnapped. The word you’re looking for is kidnapped.”

“Oh,” the teenager blinked several times, as if replaying the conversation in his head before twisting his lips into a frown, “good point. Dibsing a person is like, actually illegal. Super illegal.”

“Super fucking illegal,” she groaned, ignoring the way Steve’s arm tightened around her waist, the one on her chest coming up to run through her hair only for her to bat it away, “Stop! My hair is curly, you can’t do that when it’s dry or it’ll tangle!”

“That’s true actually,” Clint stated, walking around the table to drop into a chair opposite of Penny and Steve, “you should never comb or brush curly hair when it’s dry, it’ll frizz and tangle. Makes it hard to manage.”

“You’ll have to help Penny pick out stuff,” Bucky waved his fork in her direction, “she needs special shampoo for her hair right?”

The conversation was, once again, surreal and Penny couldn’t decide if she wanted to shoot herself or them. They wanted to talk about hair products, as if she and her brother weren’t literally being held against their will by a rich pedophile with too many connections and his psycho soldier buddies.

“I can hear the wheels turning in your head babydoll,” Steve murmured quietly in her ear, the hand around her waist sneaking up under the hem of her shirt again to settle on her skin, “take a deep breath and try to relax for me, okay? Just try to calm down.”

She willed her entire body not to tense as fury shot through her, not wanting to instigate a fight but seriously what the fuck. Try to calm down, relax, everything’s okay, I know you’ve been kidnapped but chill the fuck out—everything since she woke up had been the same mantra, deep breaths, calm down, it’s okay, you’re safe. Over and over again.

“Are you full, sweetheart?” Bucky asked softly, seeing the barely contained anger trembling through her, “we can head back to the apartment, you can rest?”

“I want to stay with Peter.”

“Peter’s gonna be resting all day too, precious,” Tony patted the teenager’s shoulder gently, “you guys’ve been through some emotional upheaval, you need time to relax.”

“We can relax together.”

A sigh escaped the genius and he shifted to rest his elbows on the table, levelling Penny with a serious expression, “Alright Penny, real talk: you two need time to adapt to your new situations and being in each other’s pockets isn’t going to help. You’ll see each other every day, multiple times a day, but you need time apart—”

“N-No we don’t, please,” Peter looked stricken, turning in his seat to face the man dead on, “p-please Mr. Stark, we don’t need time apart, please—”

“Your lives are changing and your behaviors have to change with them,” Steve cut him off gently, both hands coming to rest on Penny’s skin under her shirt now in an attempt to keep her calm, “you both need to learn to rely on us for your needs and that won’t happen if you keep clinging to each other. Imagine that you’re living in different houses, that you’ve each got your own separate lives. You’re still going to see each other regularly but you’re going to be independent of each other from now on.”

The two siblings had very different temperaments and it became extremely apparent in their reactions. Peter, who was certainly less mature but generally more logical, looked crest fallen. Tears gathered in his eyes and his lip wobbled but he didn’t argue or fight, he knew there was no point. It didn’t make sense to freak out.

Penny on the other hand, lost her goddamn mind. Steve had excellent reflexes but the level of batshit crazy she displayed was hard to account for. She’d snatched a fork off the table and slammed it down into the man’s leg without hesitation, screaming obscenities and threw the cup of coffee he’d been drinking in Bucky’s face. Clint dove across the table just as she brought her elbow up and back into Steve’s face, breaking his nose with a bone chilling crunch. She’d shot to her feet, knocking Steve off the chair, but Clint grabbed her arms tightly from behind before she could go anywhere.

Unfortunately he only managed to give her the leverage to raise both of her legs and slam them firmly into Tony’s chest when he tried to get closer to her, sending him flailing across the kitchen. The force sent Clint off balance and he released her on instinct to prevent her from falling on top of him. She landed with a heavy thud, crying out at the sharp pain that shot through her whole arm.

“Penny!” Peter shot to his feet but Tony grabbed him before he could go to her, holding him back and whispering something that she couldn’t hear in his ear.

She barely had time to process her position and situation before Bucky grabbed her by the legs and hauled her up off the floor, holding her upside down. Her shriek was enraged and she flailed but was unable to pull herself into any sort of defendable position, her core muscles weren’t strong enough.

“You okay Stevie?”

“Damn baby,” the blond groaned slightly, holding his nose between both hands as blood gushed down his front, “shattered my nose.”

“I’m honestly more impressed than upset,” Clint called from the floor, “how’d she get the drop on a super soldier? Holy fuck there’s a fork sticking out of your leg.”

“Better head to see Bruce,” Tony jabbed a thumb over his shoulder towards the elevator, “Barnes, you got her?”

“Yeah, I got her,” the man rolled his eyes, adjusting his grip on her ankles so he could meet her eyes, “Remember when we said no hitting or kicking? Naughty girls get punishments? I know you can be sweet, Penny, why won’t you be sweet for us?”

“I’ll fuckin kill you mother fuck—”

“Ohhkay,” Bucky swung her up abruptly, catching her over his shoulder and effectively knocking the wind out of her, “Steve, you head to see Bruce, me and Penny are going to go learn a lesson.”

[devilbat]

The Invisible Man

A/n: another to my classic movie monster. If you haven’t read the others here is:

WolfMan, The exorcist, Creature from the Black Lagoon,

Dr. Jekyll and Mistress Hyde

Thomas Sharpe x reader

Warning: murder, longing, dub-con, smut mention of blood. Slightly kidnapping, twisted game and Lucille.

         You are cordially invited to a haunted murder mystery dinner. Please dress for thee occasion, that has been provided by your host. A driver will fetch you exactly at 6 o'clock pm. You will then arrive by 8 o'clock sharp, the night of all hallows eve, at the beautiful old Allder Hall. Please make sure bring appropriate attire suitable for overnight stays If wished.

           Invitation was on thick antique white parchment. Addressed to you. The mail carrier had brought it attached to a large black box with red ribbon tied into a neat bow. The box in question held the most elaborate and beautiful victorian era corseted dress. In a deep blue color, black lace laid nicely along it. You had started to questioned on how your host know exactly what size you were. Let along the shoe size. As you pulled those out of the box along with a beautiful matching mask. The covered around your eyes a long silk ribbon attached to the side.

           You stood outside of your apartment building five minutes before six. The cool air blow around you. Fall leaves danced about, while you waits for the Whoever was arriving to pick you up. You shivered, it felt like the temperature had dropped suddenly. Then you heard what sounded like hooves on the street cement. You looked down the dark road as two lager horses appeared pulling a carriage. That looked to be old yet sturdy. A man dressed in all black pulled at the reins stopping the massive black beasts.  Hooves stomped as they stood there waiting for their next command.

         "Miss y/l/n!" The mysterious man spoke never once looking down at you. You nodded and swallowed hard. Everything in your body told you to tune back. But as such when you reserved the invitation, you were curious what this was all about. Beside the dress had to cost a lot for you not to waste it. The man jumped off the bench that had held him. He then walked over, opening the door to the carriage. Offering his hand to you.

         "I'm going to assume this is for the party?" You question a bit. The force inside you made your body move. He nodded as you took his hand.

        "Will be but a cold ride. There are blanks inside to keep you warm." He stated. Keeping his head down. Lifting your dress a bit to let your foot hit the step up to the carriage. The man helped you in, shutting the door behind you.

        To say that your ride was a smooth one, would be an understatement. Being this was your first time. But your ass would be feeling it later. You can now appreciate the shocks in your car. The carriage man was right it was freezing. Throwing all the musty old blankets they had over you, to keep you from being a popsicle. The carriage creaked and groan a long the way.

       Allerdale hall was slowly coming into view. The lights from the mansion were seen from the gates. Dusk had set on the hills of crimson peak. Red clay road led to the house. You now understood why it was called crimson peak. It seem to have no growth every thing seemed to be dead. Just red diet and clay. The carriage stoped just before the stairs the man that drove the horses had opened your door once more helping you out. The doors to the rickety old mansion were open, light from the grand fireplace glowed bright when you stepped through the double doors. You were in awe of the massive house. It looked as it did in the photos you've seen when you decided to look the place up. It was like it never chance.

             "You must be miss y/l/n." A man approached his deep velvet voice made you shiver. His hand extended to you. "I'm Sir Thomas Sharpe, your host for the evening." This was interesting, you knew that everyone would be in character as the evening went on. You had your instructions. You were to play one of the infamous Thomas Sharpe wife. But you did not know if you would be the one of many to be “murdered.” The one thing was with this man he wasn't dress to be seen. He was of course dressed as what Sir Sharpe had worn, but he was covered in white bandages over his face down to his neck and ducked under his collar. Dark Circular glass coving his eyes well. His hands were gloved in black leather.

        "Just Y/n will suffice. It's a pleasure to met." You smiles with a small bow, before taking his hand. He lead you in to the huge dining room. Where a large long table set up eloquently, food spread a crossed. Candles place through out the room and table. Giving the whole room a romantic and yet and eerie feeling to it. Everyone in the room fell silent when you and your host walked in. Pulling the chair for you. He sat next to you. Your eyes moved about the room. Spotting a paint of who you assumed was the real Thomas Sharpe. You had hope that maybe the man hidden under those bandages was equally handsome.

          "Welcome everyone." A woman in a black dress a simple black mask cover her eyes like yours, stood at the head of the table. She was white as a ghost. Looking very much dead. Whoever did her make up was amazing. Her eyes seemed so lifeless. Her voice a bit pitchy. "I'm Lucille Sharpe your other hostess. You've all met my brother Thomas. You have all so received a letter with instructions on how to night's event will go. Now in front of you is an more in depth story of the roll you will be playing this evening. Please take a look and let the games begin." She smiles though it seem to have a hidden wickedness to it.

               The night went on drinks flowed and you got to know you host, Thomas. He was witty and charming. His voice was enough to make your panties melt. Only if you could see what he looked like. Hoping he was as sexy as his voice. Everyone moved about the house separating. For you, you stayed with the dashing man that allowed you to hold onto his arm walking about the house. Showing you where you room would be at. Your things already in there. Leaving the room, he was about to show you the Library when you both heard a bloodcurdling scream. Rushing towards the stair. You looked over the railing down into the main room of the house. One of the guest laid there. The floor had sunk around him. You weren't sure if it was the liquid clay that sweep out from under him or the "blood." After all this was to be a murder mystery.

           "It looks to have started.” Both Thomas and Lucille stated as she kneeled next to the body, checking for a pulse. The four other nodded and started asking the question that were provided. Trying to figure out who the killer was. You couldn't place it but there was something very off about this whole thing. The detective inspector that was another guest started interrogating everyone when you arrived with Thomas. Now the suspicion was on the two of you. You play the frantic house wife well. Needing tea and wishing to retire to your room as you felt a fright and light headed. Though truth be told you felt rather light headed in the first place. You ask for Thomas to help you back to you room.

        Once in your room you had decided to lay down for a moment. Well that what you thought at lest. You had passed out right when you hit the soft mattress. When you woke it had felt as though someone or something slowly woke you. There was a weird weight on top of you. Finding the skirt of you dress was bunched up around your hips. But there was nothing there, just dim lights from the candles and an empty room. But the pressure on top of you moved, like a body. And something pushed along your cotton panties, rubbing along your covered folds. You gasped at whatever the very large thing that was moving both on top of you and between your things. When your mind starting to come to. You struggled against whatever held you down. The rubbing soon turned into pressure pushing against your covered entrance. Unwanted heat pooled between your thighs. You screamed out, calling for someone to help.

“Why fight it? When your body is reacting to me.” The voice purred around you. Not knowing where it was coming from. It sounded like a man. But your mind was still struggling the uncertainty of everything going on.

          Only soon your screams become more like moans and your panties became damp. That same voice grunted at the feel of you growing wet for him. The seam of your underwear moved to the side revealing your wet folds. You whimpered a please. Unsure if it was a please for it to stop or a please be fucked. But the larger member of what felt like the head of a cock pushed between wet fold entering you tight core. It could have been a tentacle penetrating you, for all you knew. Whatever it was made you yelped at the pain, but it felt oddly pleasurable. It was long, thick and pulsating. Wiggling under the weight of something invisible, a man perhaps. More grunts and groans came from above you. The voice now sounded so familiar.

          Hard deep thrust penetrated into tight welcoming core. You could only think this was a dream and hoped it so, as pleasure filled you. Any other reason should have you screaming and fighting the invisible figured off of you. But your wall only squeezed around the invisible length. You mind imagined it being the handsome Thomas Sharpe. Fucking you into the mattress. He was rough, his cock over filled your tight core squeezing the life out of him. So when you screamed his name out as you came around nothing.

           "That's it cum for me." The voice matched the man that had been wrapped in White bandages was now clear to you. Your back arched hearing his voice and you came once more. His own desire building up. He thrusted harder inside of you. Finding his own release. Shooting cold ropes of his seed deep inside of you. Overly stuffing you, his seed seeped out. Lazily thrusted into you. Making sure you had every last drop of him inside of you. You panted heavily, your body exhausted even more then it was before you had fallen asleep. “You my dear were even more pleasurable then I expected. The idea of keeping you excites me to no end. But you would not survive with her still here.” You were sure of it now it was the voice of your host, Thomas.

You whimpered when his length pulled out of you. Leaving a mess between your thighs. He hummed at the sight of you. Staring at nothing to you. But to him you were staring right at him. Longing for more, you weren’t sure. Thomas only watched as your core clenched around nothing. It too seemed to want him back. He chuckled softly as he knelt beside you. Placing a kiss to you parted lips. You could now see an odd line forming around a body as he pulled away.

“Perhaps, I might visit you.” You hummed he sounded distance now. Thomas noticed as you tried to move off the bed. But you body was to heavy and sleep started to take you again. “She drugged all the guests. But rest now, and know that you will leave this place without being murdered unlike the rest of the guests.” Your eyes fluttered about, your mind racing, slowly you saw the form of a man. White in color, sad looking. Yet very handsome and familiar you remember the painting of Sir Thomas Sharpe. Soon everything went dark again.

Light beamed through the curtains. Sitting up in bed, with a bit of a start. You noticed a few things that were off. One was that you were fully alone and were in your own bed. You pulled yourself out of bed noticing two other things. You were no longer wearing clothes you had on before. No, you stood there naked. Was it all a dream you thought as you walked over the dresser, where you would have left the invitation. As you did so there was the sensation of something cold trickling down your thighs making you gasp. The ache between your thighs indicating you had been fuck, rather hard and rather well at that. A shiver ran down your spine at the thought of what had happened that night.

That wasn’t all though, you looked to your dresser and there laying open was the envelope and invitation. The box’s that held the dress still laid in the chair next to the door. You turned back towards your bed, needing to sit down. But what made you scream in fright was the form of a body laying under your sheets. Dark brown curls peaked from under the blanket and sheets. The man stirred beneath the covers with a groaning.

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