#girl i have a whole snake wiggling in my guts

[little-red-fool]

Anxiety.

[undermattsun-archive]

tell me

(skate rat) miyas x fem!reader | w.c 1.6k

a/n: ok look i’m no brother fucker on main, but the lewding potential post-show me was too delicious, and if i’m not an opportunistic whore... so here it is the pt 2 y’all keep screaming about that i actually started writing no more than two hrs after posting show me bc i have no self control

another big thankies to @sugardaddykenma for giving this a read over big fat wet besitos for u

18+ university | please read ALL warnings

warnings: INCEST full on (i’m sorry god), dubcon/noncon elements, fingering, overstimulation, dumbification (lowkey), degradation, manipulation, a dash of gaslighting, a bit of humiliation, virginity loss (mentioned), crybaby!reader, little bit of mind break, reader is tired + slurs words a bit

just...them taking advantage of dumb reader

read show me first! (not necessary but appreciated + it would make more sense to do so) NOW with the third part make me !!

One hour, twenty-six minutes and who knows how many seconds have gone by since your brothers have decided to go into an entire good cop, bad cop tirade.

Their words barely making a dent in your mind as a soreness settles in your bones, the added discomfort of a mixture of sweat, saliva and cum drying on your skin with the debauched feeling of Kita’s cum dripping from your sore cunt keeping your mind thoroughly distracted.

“You’re never gonna see him again.” Atsumu-nii barks out.

“It’s better that way.” Osamu-nii adds gently.

“In fact he’s dead next time we see him.”

“Yeah, very much dead.”

“We told him to stay away from you, fuck.” Atsumu flops down beside you, Osamu follows sitting on your other side.

“It’s not that big of a deal.” You mumble, regretting your words the second you see the look in your brothers’ eyes.

“Not that big a deal?” Atsumu’s voice is no more than a low growl as he rises, eyes narrowing at the statement. “Kita’s a fucking bastard and you just let him between your legs like it was nothing. Are you stupid?”

Your eyes widen at the accusation as you scoot away from him, drawing your knees to your chest, letting your eyes fall to the rumpled blankets surrounding you.

“You let him cum inside you?” A gasp falls from your lips, embarrassment scorches through you as you realize the way your bare cunt is exposed by the way you’re sitting. You immediately shoot back, slamming into Osamu as you squeeze your legs shut, dread filling your lungs as Atsumu crawls forward.

“Our little sister really is dumb. Is that what you’ve been up to while you’re away?” He’s always been faster than you, proven by how his fingers are already around your wrist, yanking you towards him. You know that struggling is a moot point, he’s bigger and faster and so much stronger. But you can’t help but wiggle around, barely able to make him budge even a centimeter.

“No! That was my first...” you bite your tongue as Atsumu crosses his legs and seats you in his lap, your back pressed against his chest as he snakes an arm around your waist. He rests his chin atop your head, a thoughtful hum vibrating in his chest against you.

“Hear that Samu?” Atsumu squeezes you tightly as your eyes frantically dart around Osamu’s features, silently begging for him to free you from this situation.

“Yeah Tsumu, she really gave up her virginity to Kita.”

“Like an idiot.” They muse in unison.

“I- but-”

“But nothing. Now your nii-chan’s need to clean you up. Stupid little girl.” He mutters against your hair, smoothing his hands over your thighs, spreading them apart more and more. Stretching them until they’re caught by his knees, rendering you helplessly exposed.

“Umm.” Your legs twitch, the position all too embarrassing, the powerlessness of it parallel to when you were being held by Kita. Taboo, the position screams.

“It’s okay, dumb girls like you make mistakes all the time,” Osamu smiles gently, shifting over to lift the hem of your shirt, handing it to Atsumu keeping it pinned just above your belly button, “that’s why you have us.”

Confusion swirls as you watch your older brother's fingers disappear into his mouth, eyes watching as his tongue flicks over the digits, retracting them slowly.

“Ah! Wait!” You yelp out as he pushes his index and middle fingers past your puffy hole, a stinging pleasure making the taut muscles of your thighs twitch. Atsumu lets out another low laugh, steadying your legs, forcing you to keep still as Osamu continues to prod further. The blunt ends of his fingers pressing and dragging against the sore gummy walls.

“Too much, too much.” You gasp as Osamu’s fingers dig further into your cunt, shaking as you feel the tips of fingers brush against your cervix. Fat tears begin to roll down your face as you press harder back into Atsumu, as if you could find escape in the rigid planes of his body. 

His fingers continue to twist and scour, the sensation is all too overwhelming, making your throat tighten as you make futile attempts at clamping your legs shut, only making Atsumu snicker above you. You watch with panting breaths as Osamu finally draws out his fingers, covered in the milky white slick, evidence of the sins you committed just a few hours before. 

“What a sloppy cunt, you really let him make a whore of you huh?” Atsumu bites, the words cut into you, the betrayal in his voice making your throat tighten further. You can only manage to choke out a broken sob of a denial as Osamu brings his fingers against your lips.

“Say ‘ah’.” You shake your head frantically, face quickly being caught in Osamu’s other hand.

“Don’t be difficult, we’re helping you.” Disappointment, the disappointment crumbles what little fighting spirit you had in the first place, you can’t stop the tears from falling as you let Osamu slip slicked fingers into your mouth. Lazily you swirl your tongue around them, exhaustion starting to sweep over you. 

“All good?” Atsumu asks as Osamu pulls his digits from your mouth, smiling proudly at you.

“Let me make sure.” He lowers himself more onto the bed, bringing him face to face to your dripping cunny, he plants a hand against the taut muscle of your thigh, staring so intently at your twitching hole. “So fuckin messy.” It’s the closest to warning you get as he pushes his fingers back in, the yelp you let out sounding pitiful even to you. 

“We shouldn’t, d-do this.” You grip at Osamu’s arm, but it’s as if each tug you make has no effect. There isn’t a purpose to his motions, his fingers pumping in and out of you with reckless abandon, the wet, lewd sounds filling the room. 

“‘M just helping you.” Osamu breathes out, hot breath fanning over your sensitive cunt. With each push of his fingers you feel as though your whole body has been thrown under an unwavering waterfall, every stroke of his fingers feeling like the ruthless waters beating down on you. 

“Yeah, you’re the idiot who went and fucked Kita Shinsuke of all people.” Atsumu chides, running a hand across your belly, lips tickling the shell of your ear. He pulls one of your hands off of Osamu, intertwining your fingers, securing your hand against your heaving chest.

“M’Not an idiot.” Your panting whines swirling with the soft wet clicking made by his digits in your cunt punctuating your shame, your words weakly slurred together. “Samu-nii n-n’more.”

“Hm? What was that?” He teases his ring finger against your entrance, viciously scissoring his index and middle, making your body stiffen, the pain of overstimulation surging violently chased with flecks of pleasure. 

“Pretty sure she said more Samu.” Atsumu goads, slipping his other hand underneath your shirt to massage your tender breasts, the endless waves of exhaustion leaving you unable to deny yourself melting in his hold.

“More it is.” Without the slightest of stutters in his motions he stuffs in his ring finger, forcing your back to arch at the sting, the throbbing of your cunny is gut wrenching but the delicious curl of Osamu’s fingers is undeniable.

“Shlow down.” Your tongue feels thick in your mouth, head lolling back, knocking into Atsumu’s chin as you stare down with blurry vision at Osamu’s fingers disappearing into your wet heat.

“Think our little dummy means speed up, right sis? You wouldn’t want Samu to miss any leftover cum from your little slut stunt.” 

“I-I don’t?” You mumble, trying to crane your head to meet Atsumu’s gaze, the disconnect of his words is disorienting as you continue to slip into worn out haze.

“Of course not, that’s what we’ve been telling you.” He releases your hand in favor of sliding his hand up to grip at your jaw, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Hey Samu I think you can fit a fourth.”

“Yeah, me too.” Atsumu presses your head against his, leaving the two of you cheek to cheek as your eyes widen at the sight of your brother’s pinky swiping besides your entrance.

“Won’t fit.” 

“It will.” Osamu looks up at you, the familiar lazy half smile almost comforting as he begins to work his fourth finger into your thoroughly abused cunt. A jolt of biting pain mottled with bliss erupts through you. The feeling of being utterly stuffed, pushed past whatever limits you had, leaving you unable to even focus your eyes or make sense of whatever Atsumu whispers against you. 

The entirety of your body feels like an exposed nerve, as if you’ve been left out in the sun too long, simultaneously hyper aware and numb of all the little touches and strokes across your flesh. You can feel Osamu steadily pick up the pace with each thrust of his fingers, each stroke as if he’s trying to dig deeper, as if he’s trying to make your cunny memorize the shape of each finger. 

“Tsu-tsumu-niii, I thiiink…” Whatever comment you had is lost in your throat, the tiniest caress of Osamu’s thumb against your clit has your mind going blank, the entirety of your body coiling tightly, a mangled whine preempting the feeling of yourself gushing around Osamu’s fingers. Your body spasms, held tightly in Atsumu’s arms as you squeal out at Osamu unwilling to relent his movements, continuing to piston his fingers with reckless abandon.

“Enough, Ssamu enough.” Your vision goes spotty, watching with jagged breaths as he gradually withdraws. You spiral into unconsciousness one last shiver wracking through you as you watch him bring his fingers up to his lips, licking a stripe up his coated fingers. A dastardly grin the last thing you see as you black out.

[btssavedmylifeblr]

Gwanghae Flow (M)

Genre: Historical porn with plot

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader 

Summary: The queen receives a forbidden visitor in the middle of the night.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: explicit sexual activity, somewhat dubious consent, unhealthy relationship dynamics, slut shaming, adultery, impreg kink, knife/sword play, historical inaccuracy and excessive use of kdrama tropes

A/N: Here’s my small contribution to our collective thirst for the king Agust D. 

______

The whole palace is asleep, except you. Your eyes stare upward into the darkness, but there’s no light to make anything out. You would light a candle, except that would alert your guard to the fact you were still awake. And he never left until he was sure you were asleep.

A floorboard creaks and you sit bolt upright. You clutch the bedcovers to you as you wait for the door to open. Has he finally come?

But the door remains closed. Is he not coming? It had taken a month just to find the chance to speak to him alone, to whisper to him the time that your guard retired for the evening, to urge him to come to you, for him to nod and lick his lips. “Yes, my queen.”

Another soft creak of wood makes you startle, but still he doesn’t appear. You sigh in frustration, giving up and closing your eyes. You’ll need a new plan in the morning.

It’s still dark when you wake, lulled from sleep by a soft caress. A finger traces its way down your jawline. A thumb glides across your lips. But as your eyes open, the touches stop. A hand clamps down across your mouth, sealing off your ability to scream.

A single candle illuminates your room and the man who holds you down. He’s still dressed in his court clothing, all black except for the gold ornaments that gleam in his long blonde hair, dangle from his ears, and sparkle on his hands.  His fingers taste like rice wine against your lips.

“Is this a trap, my queen?” He sits on the blankets next to you, holding you down at the waist in addition to the hand covering your mouth. “You won’t scream if I let you go?”

You shake your head as best you can with the tight grip he has on you. You asked him here for a purpose.

He withdraws his hand from your mouth slowly, but leaves the hand on your waist. The candle only lights half his face. In the soft glow, he still looks very much like the boy you knew years ago. The boy who held your hand by the river and asked you for one soft kiss under the cherry blossoms before he left for war.

“Hello, my queen,” he says, fingers slowly tracing the ribbons around your waist that seal off your nightclothes.

“Hello, Yoongi.” You had hoped to call him your king, all those years ago on the riverbank, promising to wait for him until he returned to you. But the years have been unkind to you both. “I was expecting you earlier.”

“Your guard was particularly reluctant to leave your door tonight.” His eyes rake down your body, lingering on your bare leg that has wiggled its way out from under your skirt. “Perhaps your husband gave him specific instructions to not leave you alone?” His tongue plays teasingly at the inside of his cheek as he continues to stare down at you; his hand is warm where it sits on your waist.

“My husband”- you twist your body toward him so that the hem on your skirt rides up a little higher -”does not care how I spend my evenings.”

His eyes linger on the newly exposed skin. “I think he would care about you inviting strange men into your bedchamber.”

“You are not a stranger.” You interlace your fingers over his at your waist.

He leans backwards, sharp eyes examining you, and the whole of his face is revealed. The wound that marred your future together shines red on the other side of his face, an angry gash from above his brow to beneath his eye. “I am not the man you knew.”

“No...” You slide his hand up your side to tease at the strings that hold close your blouse. “The boy I knew would never sneak into the bed of a married woman.” Your transparent white undergarments reveal the curves of your body even though you are still covered. You had chosen the thinnest ones you owned. “I am hoping you have become a bolder man since then.”

“Bolder, yes, and more reckless.” His fingers wrap into the ribbons, undoing the closure of your blouse, but not yet opening it.

You shrug the top from your shoulders to bare your naked chest before him. Your bare breasts and flimsy silks are a stark contrast to his full royal dress. He still has his sword tied to his waist. “Reckless indeed, to bring your weapon this deep into the palace.”

“They would kill me if they found me here.” He smirks as he says it, as if he’d like to see them try. “Seemed wise to take precautions.” His hand twitches at his side as he stares at your exposed chest.

“I’d like to dispense with precaution.” You bring his hand up to your breast. His calloused fingers slide tentatively across your smooth skin.

“It would seem,” he says, his touches growing firmer as you lean into them, “that you are not the girl I knew either. When did the woman I loved become such a desperate slut?”

It punches the air from your lungs and you are deeply ashamed. You pull away from him, squirming and trying to tug your shirt back on. “I’m not…” He doesn’t understand. “I’ve never…”

His hands block you from covering yourself, fingers tugging at your nipples, which harden even as your shame grows. “Now, now, my queen, it’s too late for that. You asked me here for a reason. You disrobed in front of me for a reason.” He pinches your nipple between his fingers, causing sparks of heat to travel up your neck and down your groin. “Tell me, my queen, what can I do for you that his majesty, my brother, cannot?”

He brings his face closer to you and you can smell the wine on his breath.You clamp your hands over his in a futile attempt to stop his teasing of your breasts. “Are you drunk?” 

He chuckles low and wryly. “Drunk enough to sneak into the king’s wife’s bedroom in the middle of the night? Yes.” He lets go of you, leaning back and licking his lips. “But not too drunk to be of service.” He palms the crotch of his pants and you can see the bulge that has arisen there.

You sit up and re-cover yourself, suddenly afraid you don’t have the guts to see your plan through to the end. This is not the boy you thought you could control. “Perhaps I have no need for your services. Perhaps I just wanted to see you.”

“You could see me in the daytime, your majesty.” He slips his hand under the hem of your skirt to run slow circles around your ankle bone. Heat snakes up your leg, straight to your core, and you fall backward onto the bed once more. He smirks as his hand begins moving higher up your leg, twirling figure eight patterns up your calf. “We both know that is not why you asked me to sneak past your guards in the middle of the night.”

“It’s been years.” You try to tug your leg away from him, but he grips your thigh and holds you in place. “Perhaps I wanted to see how you were.”

“It has indeed been years.” Your arousal continues to build as he invades higher and higher. “So perhaps I have waited long enough to take what was rightfully mine.”

The muscles in your groin clench as he reaches the inside of your thigh, just above the knee, blocked from further travel by the short pants you wore under your skirt.

“Unless, of course...” He traces slow circles at the junction of your knee. “You want me to leave.”

You’ve never been this wet in the company of a man before. Your husband has certainly never made you feel this way. His hand continues to slide up your leg, searching for the ribbons that will unlock the most intimate part of you. You had planned to seduce the prince tonight, but you had not expected to enjoy it this much. “No, I don’t want you to leave.”

He grins. “I didn’t think so.” His fine fingers find the drawstrings to your pants and pull the knots apart with ease. He slides your undergarments down your legs, leaving you naked beneath your skirt, then pushes your skirt up to your waist so you lie bare before him. 

Your desire for him leaks from you and he can see it, glistening in the candlelight. 

“This”- he cups your sex in his large hand -“this should have been mine.”

You groan as his thumb finds the sensitive nub at the apex of your entrance. He rubs slow circles into you as you rock against his hand, more slick spilling from you as the heat in your groin grows. “I wanted to be yours,” you whisper.

He frowns, brows knitting together, throwing the scar into sharp relief on his face. “Don’t tell me things you think I want to hear.” He stops the circles against you, cupping you instead. “My wounds hadn’t even healed before you wedded my brother.”

“I had no choice in the matter.” You rock against him in frustration, chasing your arousal. Your family had raised you to marry the king, and Yoongi could no longer be king. Kings can’t have scars.

“You could have refused.” He resumes the rubbing of your clitoris with an even faster pace. “You could have run away. I would have found you.”

This time you pause him, stopping his hand with yours and looking him in the eye. “You could have refused to go.”

His eyes unfocus for a moment, staring into the darkness behind you. You imagine that he is feeling all the regrets of those years, the same as you.

The scar that mars his features gleams in the candlelight. The reason the crown prince was replaced. The reason he was not yours every night. You reach out to touch it but he stops you with a hand to your wrist before you reach his cheek.

“Don’t touch it.” He yanks you up off the floor by your wrist and flips you over onto your hands and knees, naked except for the skirt tied around your waist. He doesn’t bother untying it, just flips it up to expose your cunt again.

You groan when his fingers return to your core.

“Is this an unusual position for you, my queen?” You can hear the smirk in his voice even without seeing his face. “Tell me, what position does my brother usually fuck you in?”

He pairs his degradation with a renewed effort to coax your arousal from you. His hands grip your cheeks and spread them, putting you on display even further as he massages the fatty tissue.

“Does he treat you like a queen? Does he take his time to worship you properly?” He brings his mouth to you, tongue diving inside you as his thumb resumes its work on your clit. Your fingers curl into the bed sheets beneath you as you fight to stay upright.

He pulls away as you rock back against him. “Or does he fuck you like the whore he paid for?” He spanks you harshly right on your sex. You have to bite your lip to keep from calling out. The gold rings on his fingers sting, but it doesn’t stop more fluids from leaking from you.

In truth, your husband did neither. The king would visit you when he was drunk, fumble his way through your clothes to access what he wanted, thrust into you enough to achieve his own ends, and then leave. Sometimes he would thank you. Sometimes he wouldn’t bother speaking to you. Mercifully, these visits have become less and less frequent over the years.

“He does touch you, doesn’t he?” Two of Yoongi’s long fingers slide inside you easily, slick with your juices. “Clearly, your virtue is long gone. No virgin would open up so easily for me, would rock back onto my fingers so greedily.”

“He has touched me.” You gasp when Yoongi curls his fingers, pressing along your walls in a way your husband never has. “But not like this.”

“So tell me, my queen...” He pairs the press of his fingers inside you with the resumed pattern on your clit and your legs begin to shake. “Why, in these many long years, has my brother not put a child in you?”

“He can’t,” you gasp, finally spilling the reason you asked the prince here tonight.

“The king can’t have children?” He pauses his movements, but only for a moment, until you wiggle in your desperation for him to continue.

You groan as he curls his fingers again, but manage to nod. “They blame me for it.” The court, your family, your mother-in-law, even your husband himself told you it was your fault. The tide of politics was rapidly turning against you.

“Of course, they do. The body of the king can only be perfect. But you are replaceable.” He smacks your ass in emphasis for this last sentiment. “Surely he has fucked other women in the last five years.”

“He has.”

“But no little bastards run around these halls.”

“No, they do not.”

He pulls his fingers from you and holds them up your face. “Are you fertile today, my queen?”  Your slick strings between his fingers. “Is that why you asked me here tonight?”

“Yes…” Your empty cunt aches for him. “Yes, please, Yoongi…”

His fingers turn your chin to face him as he leans over you. “Then there is indeed something I can give you that my brother cannot.”

And then he kisses you. Soft and firm, hands gripping your neck to hold you against his mouth. It makes you breathless in a whole new way. You are fighting to hold yourself upright by the time he pulls away.

He moves behind you, not bothering to disrobe, but merely pulling his pants down far enough to release his erection. He grips your hips tightly as he  slides inside you.

“God…” he groans, hips stuttering as he seats himself in you. “This… this should be mine. You should have been mine.”

“I am yours, Yoongi, please.” You rock back against, delighting in the fullness of him finally being where you want him.

“Not as you should be.” His long hair tickles your back as he bends over you. “I stayed unmarried for you.” He punctuates each sentence with a thrust into you that grows stronger each time. “I waited for you. I let younger men talk down to me, worn my hair long, all for you. All in the vain hope that I might be yours when I returned. But you couldn’t wait for me.”

The sound of steel on steel echoes through your bedchamber and you startle. Have you been discovered? You try to look around, but Yoongi’s hand grabs your neck to hold you in place. Then you feel the cold bite of metal against the front of your thighs.

“I could mark you too,” he whispers, pressing the flat of the blade against your bare skin. “I could leave you scarred and unworthy like me.” His cock kicks inside you and you groan, trying to hold still despite the overwhelming desire for him coursing through you.

“What would my brother do then?” he muses. “Would he cast you out? Would he admit to the world that I claimed what was his just as he claimed what was mine? Or would he continue to fuck you, every time having to cross the mark I made on you.”

“Do it,” you urge, pressing back against him. “Mark me. Claim me as yours.” You want it. You want to be his and his alone.

There is a long pause. Then the blade is gone as the sword clatters to the floor beside you.

“I don’t need to mark you.” He resumes his thrusts, pace increasing as his grip on your hips tightens. “You’re going to grow round with my child and everyone will see it. They’ll all know and not be able to do anything about it. My son will sit on the throne someday. I’ll come back and fuck you every night until you birth my heir.”

He buries himself deep inside you as he finishes, warm seed pumping into you.

His fingers return to your clitoris, rubbing in firm circles as the last few aftershocks run through him. “Come, my queen, draw my child up inside you.”

You obey, pelvic muscles clenching rhythmically, squeezing hard around his softening cock and milking out the last of his release.

You sigh in relief as you collapse down onto the bed. You curl up on your side, drawing your knees to your chest.

He tuts as some of the white fluid begins leaking from you, running a finger across your sex one last time to gather it up and stuff it back inside you. Your cunt gives one last contented pulse of lingering arousal.

He pulls your skirt back down to cover you, patting your ass as he does so. He draws the bed sheets over you and kisses you one last time on the cheek. “Make sure my brother fucks you in the next few days,” he whispers. He blows out the candle, and then he’s gone.

_______

A/N: Hope you enjoyed that! I know there’s not any actual evidence for the “kings can’t have scars” thing in the historical record. But I needed it for the Angst™! I blame Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo. Thank you for reading! 

[okageshadowkingfannovel]

Book 1. The Boy Meets the King

Chapter 1.

In a normal unsuspecting kitchen, a former adventurer stands before a stove, stirring the contents of a pot and humming to herself. In her early forties, she’s a warm, pleasant looking woman with pony-tailed reddish brown hair and soft brown eyes. She might have been the hero of this story about two decades ago, but her adventures are long since passed. The only adventures for her today are those of being a devoted wife and mother, and that means preparing dinner.

It’s just after lunch and suddenly, the younger of the woman’s two children bursts into the kitchen. She is a slender pretty girl with strawberry blond pigtails and vibrant green eyes. She is Annie, a teenager, but also, not the hero of this story. In fact, she has very little interest outside of keeping herself popular amongst the teenagers of Tenel village and finding a satisfactory boyfriend.

“Hey Mom, what’s for dinner?”

“Oh Annie,” Mom starts while casting a smile over her shoulder, “you just had lunch not too long ago and you’re already thinking about dinner?”

Annie twists a dainty finger into the strands of one pigtail. “I was just asking. It smells so good. Tell me, Mom. I wanna know.”

At this moment, the woman’s eldest child enters the kitchen, but it takes her and Annie a too long moment to notice him.

“Well, I’ll say that- Oh! Ari!”

“See? Ari’s come to find out too.”

The boy called Ari is 16 years old. He has a sapling like frame - slender, scrawny, almost seeming bendy. Shaggy red hair falls in long locks around his face and across his forehead, and his large eyes are emerald green. He’s wearing a blue striped sleeveless shirt, a black vest with gold clasps and a skull patch on the chest, and long khaki trousers. He doesn’t speak up much for himself and the whole town of Tenel agrees that his most notable quality is how unremarkable he is.

That being said, this quiet ordinary boy is the hero for this peculiar tale.

“Come on, Mom! What is it? It smells like stew … or steak?” Annie carries on.

“Well, what do you think it might be, Ari?”

Ari courteously sniffs the air, shrugs, and answers. “I don’t know.”

Mom looks slightly disappointed that her son gave no guess, but she smiles anyway and says, “well, tonight’s dinner is … a secret!”

Annie rolls her eyes. “Mom! That’s so unfair.”

“Oh! That reminds me, Ari. Your dad found a funny bottle on his way home last night. It’s right there on the table.”

She gestures towards the kitchen table where, seeming very out of place upon the normal white table cloth and next to the three branched candelabra, there indeed sits a strange looking bottle. It is a gaudy purple with an intricate green pattern necklacing the thinly tapering opening. Two handles spring out and curve down to the bottom to make for easy carrying. Four large, candy like turquoise gemstones are embedded into the bottle’s curves.

“We can’t get the cap off,” his mother admits, “don’t you think it’s strange?”

Observing more closely, Ari notices the cork very firmly shoved into the opening.

He reaches out a finger and pokes it.

A low muffled moan sounds from deep within the bottle.

Ari leans in and sniffs at the cork.

All he catches is an overwhelming waft of mold.

Finally, he firmly grasps the neck of the bottle and pulls at the cork.

But it won’t budge, not even a wiggle.

“See?” says his mother, abandoning the stove to draw closer to the bottle, “I wonder what’s in there.”

There’s a sparkle in her eyes, a far off wandering look, a hint of the curious adventurer she used to be.

“Mom!” Annie breaks her mother’s reverie, “it’s pointless to keep a bottle we can’t open. Throw it away.”

To strike her point, Annie flips a pigtail on the last word.

“Ah! Well, let’s see … What should we do?”

Their mother hesitates a moment in thought. And then, she lights up with realization.

“Oh! That reminds me! I forgot to pick up bread! But I can’t leave the stove. What should I do?”

Before Ari can make any sort of suggestion, his sister steps over him.

“Oh darn, I wish I could help you out, Mom, but I have a test tomorrow and I really need to study. My future is on the line!”

With that, Annie turns around and makes a dash out of the kitchen.

Unsurprisingly, Ari notices the sounds of her footsteps are heading out the front door instead of up the stairs to her room where her school books lay waiting.

“Well then, Ari,” says his mother, “go down to the bakery in the village and pick up a loaf of bread for me. They’ll just put it on our tab, so you can just run in and grab it. Thank you, dear.”

His mother turns back to her stove and her humming. Ari is about to leave the kitchen when she whips around again.

“Oh! While you’re out, why don’t you stop by Town Hall and see your father.” She turns back to her cooking, wistfully, “ah, my love, hard at work. If only I could see your father in action. Such rapture …” she trails off to herself.

Feeling repulsed and uncomfortable with his mother’s personal musings, as teenagers ordinarily do, Ari finally leaves the kitchen.

The family home is a mansion that lays like a sprawled out reptile just south-east of the village of Tenel. It sits fatly in a clearing of pine trees, just a stone’s throw from the village road. It wears jagged stones in various states of grey, reaches tall, dizzying pointed towers up to mingle with the tree tops, and caps itself with crooked blue shingles. It keeps itself company with a dried up fountain in the front courtyard, a tiny, but ancient ancestral graveyard, and a huge, thick, wooden gate at the entrance to keep all of it in.

Ari steps out into the courtyard, shielding his eyes from the sunlight already beginning to sharpen through the trees as afternoon slips into evening. He notices Annie waiting for him at the top of the stone steps that snake down to the front gate.

“So, did she tell you what’s for dinner?” she asks, blocking his path, “come on, tell me.”

“What happened to your homework?”

Annie starts to tease her pigtail with a wiggling finger.

“Well! I’m going out on a twilight date with Morris before dinner. To polish my feminine airs, I have to build up experience while I’m young. My book says so too …”

“What kind of book says that?”

“It’s one of Mom’s old books. What was the name again? … Oh! ‘Controlling Guys Made Easy.’”

Before Ari can protest, Annie spins around and skips on down the stairs.

“Anyway, enjoy your errand, Ari!” she calls before disappearing through the wooden gate.

Ari sighs, figuring there was little he could have said or done to make things play out differently.

With hands in pockets, he lazily makes his way over to the small graveyard by the pathway. He likes to say hello upon passing the three residents. The stones are so old that most of the lettering has been worn away, but Ari makes out what he can and makes up the rest:

‘RIP Nameless Hero - Well, we think he must have a name, but nobody asked him.’

‘Man who drank, gambled, and died from poisonous fish - just as he planned. RIP’

‘Person who touched the knowledge of the Library.’

After 16 years, Ari still knows nothing beyond these half-deciphered inscriptions, but he gives his regards all the same. When satisfied, he heads on through the big wooden gate that leads him to a meandering dirt path. It winds through the grass, between rotted logs and small rocky hills, untangling Ari from the clusters of trees until it finds the main road. A nearby sign helpfully points out to any casually passing tourist:

‘North: Tenel Village/Church

West: Tenel Field & Madril

East: Nameless Dwelling’

Ari wonders if his family will ever decide to name their house so the sign could be a bit more specific.

“Hmmm, Nancy? Or Connie?”

At the crossroads stand two boys about Ari’s age, Levi and Nathan. Dark haired Nathan is the pudgier fellow, while Levi is lanky and alight with flaming orange hair.

“Huh?”

“Whoa!” Nathan exclaims, his fat frame jumping, “Oh! It’s you. You scared me, Ari! When did you get here? I didn’t even notice.”

“Ari, you look real gloomy,” says Levi, “hey, you know what? The circus is coming to the field over there tomorrow night!” He gestures vaguely in the direction of Tenel Field.

“Really?” Ari replies noncommittally.

“I, I, I’m definitely gonna ask Julia out this time! I, I, I will do it! And me and Julia are gonna go out on a romantic date!”

“I wonder who I should ask out,” Nathan muses in the face of his friend’s determination, “Ari, why don’t you ask somebody out too? It’s the circus!”

Ari chuckles and shrugs his shoulders in what he hopes is a ‘cool, but not caring too much’ display. “Sure, I’ll just narrow down my list a bit and ask one out.”

It doesn’t come off as cool as he hoped.

“Ha!” Levi bursts, “I bet he doesn’t have the guts to ask a girl out! Ha ha ha! Chicken!”

The skinny boy goes the extra mile and begins flapping his arms and clucking.

“Anyway, I better get on over to the village,” says Ari before the soul crushing embarrassment can descend, “got an errand to run.”

“You’d better go quick then,” says Nathan, “they’re closing the town gates earlier and earlier. The ghosts and monsters from Tenel field have been wandering closer to town, I heard.”

The hauntings and prowlings of Tenel Field are nothing new to Ari’s ears. All his life, he’s heard the townspeople complaining about the beasts and deadly things that roam wild and how it’s getting worse every year. Ari hears most people, especially the older ones, blaming it on something evil going on out West in Madril that’s driving the wild things nutty. It’s gotten to the point where Tenel’s posted a sentry on the path between Tenel and the field to keep kids and the like in town and to warn everyone if something should wander in. Ari never gives the matter much thought, reasoning that interesting things like monster encounters only happen to interesting people. And it’s so rare to see ghosts come floating in out of the field.

But the sun does seem ever so slightly lower than it was when he first stepped out of the house.

“Right, I’ll be quick.”

With that, Ari leaves them to their great girl debate and heads toward the main gates of Tenel. For now, the entrance is wide open, yawning its welcome to any passerby bored enough to visit the little town. But later, as it gets darker, the gates will eventually be shut and locked, as Tenel residents cling to the illogical belief that doors and locks can keep out ghosts.

As he enters, he notices a pretty blond girl in a white dress standing by the inn and looking absentmindedly off into the distance. Further putting his errand on hold, Ari walks up to her.

“Hey Julia.”

She doesn’t respond.

Ari waits patiently.

It’s alright. I’m used to being ignored.

Julia looks on for another moment or two. Ari continues waiting.

Any day now …

“Huh? Oh, Ari!” she says, her gaze finally shifting onto him, “I was daydreaming. Sorry about that. Hey, did you know the circus is coming tomorrow night?”

Julia and Ari have been friends since childhood, and though time and puberty have pulled them in different directions, they still consider themselves at the very least good friends. Typically, Julia isn’t so spacey - it’s just an ‘Ari thing.’

“Yeah, Nathan and Levi mentioned it.”

“Isn’t it great? It’s the circus!”

“Yeah, it’s pretty great.”

She looks at him, blue eyes wide and expectant.

“I mean,” he continues, “really great. Very exciting.”

She still says nothing. He waves a hand in front of her eyes, wondering if she’s sunk into another daydream. He does have that effect on people sometimes.

“So, aren’t you gonna ask me to go to the circus with you?” she says suddenly.

“Oh! Well, yeah,” Ari stumbles, “um, I mean, I need to check in with my folks, but … would you … would you like to …”

Before Ari can finish his bare minimum of a question, Julia takes a step back and giggles.

“Sorry, Ari.”

Without even knowing the rest of the sentence, Ari can tell she doesn’t seem very sorry.

“Somebody else already asked me. If you’d have asked me earlier …”

Ari thinks about maybe saying something in protest or in his own defense, but decides it’s not worth it as she makes her way past him.

“Um,” she says, pausing before she walks away completely, “Some time soon, Ari, I … I need to tell you something important … so … see you.”

She takes off running, disappearing fast into the town - an impressive feat given its small size and even smaller populace. Ari isn’t sure what to make of Julia. Teenagerdom is difficult enough to navigate for himself without the complex enigma of teenage girls thrown into the mix. As with most problems, puzzles, and peculiarities, Ari shrugs and carries on with his business.

As he passes it, Ari notices the sign on the Parm Inn door:

‘CLOSED due to water shortage - not that we get any guests anyway. Ha! - Parm Inn Landlord.’

The posting has been there for several weeks. Similar notices decorate the doors of ‘Tinkers,’ the blacksmith and ‘Gulp,’ the bar:

‘Can’t do business without water. I’ll be sleeping. - Tinkers Owner’

‘Closed due to shortage! And for those who owe me money, PAY UP QUICK! - Gulp Hostess.’

Ari can only wonder how much longer before these places will have to close for good. Tenel is already pretty small. Any smaller and they’d have to start calling themselves ‘a small cluster of houses and shops’ instead of a town.

“Ah! Ari!” someone suddenly exclaims.

Ari turns to see the butcher standing outside his shop, just across from the inn. A man with an egg like figure and neatly parted brown hair, the butcher breathes out a heavy sigh as he clutches at his chest.

“You gave me a fright, Ari. I didn’t notice ya standing there at first.”

“Sorry, Mr. Kellogg.”

“Shame about the water shortage, isn’t it? Thankfully, we’ve got some stored up for emergencies like this, but we’re getting mighty low. Can’t say how much longer we’ll be able to stay open.”

“Yeah, I wonder what’s caus-”

“You like beef, Ari?”

He is a little startled by the question.

“Oh, well, I don’t dislike it, sir.”

“I’ve got a great deal on ground beef. One pound, 20 sukel. Figure you might not be able to get any tomorrow - if we can’t open, I mean.”

A few minutes later, Ari walks out of the butcher shop with a wrapped up pound of ground beef under his arm and his wallet 20 sukel lighter.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” calls Mr. Kellogg as he locks the door to his shop to leave for the day, “get home safe.”

Ari waves as the butcher turns to make his way home. He doubts he’ll have business there, but Ari hopes the butcher is open tomorrow. As he makes his way towards the bakery, he passes by two men deep in conversation and nervousness.

“Oh dear, this just won’t do. The water supply has stopped and almost all the stores are closed. It’s under investigation now … do you think it might be related to ghosts?”

“All I know is they’re saying there are tons of ghost problems in Madril. And they’re a big, machine town. Totally different class than Tenel. If they can’t handle the ghosts and monsters, we don’t stand a chance.”

The other man nods weakly, looking very pale. “We’ll be in big trouble.”

Ari remembers his mother’s suggestion couched in wifely affection and decides to go visit his father. He passes Gulp, Tinkers, the miscellaneous shop known as ‘The Other One’, and several homes. All the way in the back of town, atop a small hill, is the church and right beside it the Tenel Village Office. The church sits quietly and patiently, having been unused and unvisited for several weeks now. Ari thinks the cream color of the tall rounded church towers is starting to look like spoiled milk. Green stains are creeping up the sides and the forest surrounding Tenel is starting to reclaim it.

A sign before the tightly shut door reads:

‘Until further notice, please do not enter the church. - Tenel Village Office’

Feeling helpless in the face of such a polite, pathetic notice, Ari walks over to the Tenel Village Office.

Inside, the village office is busy and hectic. Immediately, Ari spots his father sitting behind his usual desk at the front, but all around him, people rush and run and flitter about like a swarm of frustrated, inconvenienced bees. Even their talk sounds like buzzing.

Ari carefully navigates his way towards that front desk. Ari’s father is a short, stringy sort of man. He parts his dark brown hair straight and neat down the middle, and he looks at the world through thick, soda bottle glasses. He has the look of a man who believes in aliens and psychic phenomenon. If one were to ask him about such things, he could easily go on for hours. Ari can attest to it. His father stares intently into a stack of pages in the middle of his desk. He stares as if staring hard enough will burst the pages into flames or cast them into an alternate dimension where he doesn’t have to look at them anymore. Ari is sorry to see these efforts aren’t working.

“Oh! Hello there, Ari. Here to see your cool father at work?”

Ari rolls his eyes, but still smiles.

“What d’ya think? Too cool for words, huh? I redefine ‘cool.’ Ha!”

Now the smile is starting to fade. Ari’s father has perfected the art of being too corny.

“Sorry, sorry,” his father chuckles, “as you can see, the office is in a bit of a panic over the water shortage. We’re doing everything we can to find the cause, but …”

As his father trails off, Ari sees his shoulders slump and behind the happy-go-luck dork that is his father, Ari can see the exhausted Assistant Manager.

“On top of that, the Classification Tables will be arriving soon from the Royal City. That always puts the office on edge.”

Ari knows vaguely about the Classification Tables. His father has cursed it multiple times throughout the year. Supposedly, the village office sends a character report of each Tenel resident to the Royal City and then the city sends back a huge packet of tables that identify and categorize each and every citizen. Ari frequently asks his father how he is ‘classified,’ but his father usually responds with some corny joke.

‘The Assistant Manager’s son.’ ‘The eldest child at the Nameless Dwelling.’ ‘Some Shady Guy.’

So, Ari doesn’t really ask about it anymore. He just accepts that the Classification Table causes his father a lot of headache and woe. Once, Ari tried asking one of his father’s coworkers what the purpose was of the Classification Tables. Her response was unsatisfactory.

“Oh! I didn’t see you there! You’re the assistant manager’s son, aren’t you? Well, the Classification Tables, they … well, they … they maintain order of course! They help the town run smoothly. Why else would the Royal City have us do all this? Now, please leave me alone. I’m quite busy.”

So, Ari understands the weight when, on top of the water shortage problem, his father says he also has to deal with the Royal City’s Classification Tables.

“Anyway, what’s for dinner?” his father asks suddenly, the joy lifting his shoulders back up from their slump, “Ah, I wanna go home. I miss your mom.”

Ari chuckles. “No idea. She wouldn’t tell me. Says it’s a surprise.”

“Ha, yeah, that sounds like your mother.”

“She asked me to pick up bread.”

“Oh! Well, you better get moving, son. It’s getting dark out. The town will be closing soon.”

“Great seeing you, Dad,” says Ari as he turns to leave, nearly crashing into a speeding intern.

Ari steps back outside and, just as his dad said, the dark is noticeably beginning to descend on the town. He rushes down the hill to the Bakery, hoping the owner hasn’t decided to close doors early due to the dark looming in. The bell above the door clangs to life as he rushes in. Despite that, the husband and wife who run the Bakery carry on with their personal business, not seeming to notice Ari standing in the doorway. He steps up to the main counter where the wife stands, her back to Ari as she sorts through the baked goods on the back shelf.

The smell of freshly baked bread is intoxicating, filling Ari with warmth until the harsh pang of hunger in his stomach drives it away.

“Excuse me,” he says.

The portly Mrs. Bakster is singing to herself as she counts and pokes at the remaining pastries. It’s not a very good song and Mrs. Bakster isn’t very good at singing it.

“Hello? Mrs. Bakster?”

“Huh?” Finally, she whips around. “Oh! It’s you, Ari! Don’t I always tell you? A boy should speak up!”

These types of reprimands are nothing new. Mrs. Bakster has many opinions and is very keen on sharing them.

“Now, now, don’t harangue the boy, dear,” calls Mr. Bakster from across the shop, “don’t mind her too much, Ari. She’s got a sharp tongue, but a soft heart really.”

Ari smiles good humoredly, simply wanting to get the bread and get home for dinner.

“You’ve come to pick up bread for your mother, right?” says Mrs. Bakster as she reaches over to a shelf and pulls off a fine, golden colored loaf. With speed and finesse, she neatly wraps the loaf in paper and then, gently hands it to Ari. “Here you are. Don’t squeeze it too much. Don’t want to crush it.”

“Yes, Mrs. Bakster, thank you.”

“By the way, Ari, before you go, I wanted to ask - anything bothering you?”

“Now, dear!” chides Mr. Bakster.

“Come on! Keep your chin up, boy!” Mrs. Bakster carries on, ignoring her husband, “girls like the assertive ones, you know? And I know you’ve got a lot of potential, Ari. You can be anything you want. You just got to assert yourself, and girls will be all over you.”

Ari smiles and nods, backing away slowly.

“Alright, alright. Get on home and get that to your mother. I’ve got a dinner to get ready and a husband to feed, you know.”

“Yes … thank you, Mrs. Bakster. You too, Mr. Bakster. Have a good evening.”

Ari turns and whips out the door before the baker can be inspired with another round of opinions. Once outside, Ari is surprised to find Annie waiting.

“Ari, you done with your errands? You’ve been gone forever.”

“Sorry, yeah. I’m done.”

“What’s the matter?” she asks, and then eyes the bakery, “oh, did she lecture you again?”

Yeah, sure, make me relive it, why don’t ya?

The thought translates into a shrug.

“Let me guess,” says Annie playfully, “Oh, Ari, you’ve got to speak up for yourself more. You practically blend into someone else’s shadow.”

Ari gives her a brotherly glare.

“Oh well, at least there are some people around here who see some good in you … Julie, for instance.” Annie giggles mercilessly. “You lucky guy.”

All the way home, Annie teases her brother about the baker woman’s “advice” and Julie’s “affections.” But Ari takes it all without a word, wondering to himself about lots of different topics from that busy afternoon. He thinks about the water shortage and about his classification from the Royal City and about Julie picking someone else over him and about what it actually means to ‘blend into someone else’s shadow.’

Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 5 • Chapter 6 • Chapter 7 • Chapter 8 • Chapter 9 • Chapter 10 • Chapter 11 • Chapter 12 • Chapter 13 • Chapter 14 • Chapter 15 • Chapter 16 - Finale

NOTE: Okage Shadow King is owned by Sony Computer Entertainment and Zener Works. This novelization is purely a fan-work and the writer claims no ownership over the characters, general plot line(s), etc.

[knybits]

THE HATING GAME — 2

PAIRINGS —

↳ kochou shinobu x reader

SUMMARY —

↳ Geniuses within the same field yet rivals within each other’s eyes, your colleagues wonder when the sexual tension will break so that you two will become the department’s powerhouse couple so that they can enter you two into the couples contest against the other departments. Some things might have to be done by force.

WARNINGS —

↳ cursing, alcohol, smut  

[ Navigation ] 

—

Shinobu Kochou absolutely loathes you. 

And she doesn’t have a reason why. 

So because of this, she keeps her nicely painted lips curved upwards when she sees you. And when you pass her without a single glance, the words “fucking asshole” cross her twisted mind.

Neatly combed hair and glasses perched on your nose during lecture is (F/n) (L/n). The smell of coffee and always being surrounded by a group of friends is (F/n) (L/n). You’re the spare bit of warmth during a dead winter and you act like you work harder and are better than everyone else. 

That attitude is something she can’t stand, but you pull it off so well that your friends believe that you’re some genius and hang off your every word. 

But when Shinobu pulls up in skinny jeans and a frilly white crop top, red heels to pull the outfit together, and she sees you dancing without a care in the world, something inside her snaps. She’s glad that she talked to Mitsuri over call before going, else she would have never decided to go to the club and celebrate (celebrate what she doesn’t know.)

She quickly tips a shot down her throat, relishing in the burning satisfaction, before patting her cheeks and strutting onto the dance floor.  When someone makes a move to grab her wrist she bats them off, a dangerous look in her eyes. 

“What’s wrong sweetcheeks!” They yell over the music, advancing on the petite woman. Shinobu takes a step back before bumping into someone, hearing your slurred voice right in her ear. Shinobu quickly apologizes under her breath before backing up even more and swaying her hips into your lap. 

Surprisingly enough, you’re quick to respond, hands cupping her waist and she allows herself to press her back against your chest. Sure, the stranger is looking at her as if he doesn’t believe her, but she feels safe in your chest (as ironic as that may seem, considering how you’re both grinding up against each other.)

The man makes another step towards Shinobu and she clicks her tongue in distaste. As a final move to tell him to back the fuck off, Shinobu takes your hand to grope her breast. The man looks surprised, and she sticks her tongue out at him before mouthing “I have a partner, you prick.” 

That’s enough to finally steer him away, and he rolls his eyes obnoxiously before walking over to the bar and surveying anyone else that might catch his eye. Shinobu yelps in surprise when fingers loop her waistband, spinning her around to face your flushed face. She can’t help but look at your lips, a fire fighting within her. 

Are you even aware of what you’re doing? A year and a half of ignoring each other, but do you really even hate her? Or was your silence a sign of shyness? 

Does she even hate you? 

“Fuck it,” she thinks the minute you open your pretty mouth to ask for consent, her her arms slide around your neck. 

She can taste the alcohol in your mouth, tongue exploring as she hums with delight. But something in her feels empty as she realizes you’re intoxicated. She pushes on, fingers dancing under your shirt and feeling the warm skin underneath. She can’t help but gasp when you move your hand to grip her ass, and your tongue immediately dominates. 

Shinobu hates how easily she let you have your way. Her hate is weak, but in your arms she’s weaker. 

It’s no secret that your tongue is what gets her screaming the loudest. Shinobu remembers the whole night in vivid detail. She couldn’t help but gasp your name over and over while she was strapped to the chair, big doe eyes blindfolded from the rest of the world. 

You were aggressive when you rammed her up the wall, mouth biting and sucking at her neck and jaw while you mercilessly thrust your fingers into her very wet pussy. She remembers how she whimpered and begged your name to fuck her harder, faster, deeper, and the second she came onto your fingers you called her a “good girl,” and that drove her wild. 

And now Shinobu is sore and confused. Every inch of her body throbs while you snore lightly by her side. You barely have any marks on your body and she’s pissed that she’ll have to wear some heavy makeup for a while. 

To be honest, Shinobu could go for another round with you right now. Morning sex hits differently to her, and now that you’ve most likely slept off the alcohol you’d be sober enough to know what you’re doing. But there’s the chance that now that you know what you’re doing, you’ll run out of her apartment without a second thought. 

She hates how you make her feel. Just yesterday she hated your guts for acting like royalty, for ignoring her “hello” with a roll of your eyes. And now you’re in her bed, the smell of sex so strong it makes her head spin. 

Her perfectly manicure nails skim over your skin, and she finds herself writing the kanji character for ‘hate’ before you stir. Shinobu is quick to draw her hand back, and she’s amused with how slow you are to figure out where you are. 

Finally, you turn your head to face her, but the look on your face screams “regret.” And now Shinobu has her answer. Despite the twisted carnage that rages within her, she smiles. 

“Good morning, (F/n). Did you sleep well?” 

– 

“Hi (F/n)! It’s Araceli. Shinobu said she would take you back to her apartment since you were too shitfaced, so I hope you’re okay! I went home with Michael tonight so you don’t have to worry about me. Send me a text when you can, and I’ll see you in the lab!” The voicemail ends as you enter your apartment, body and mind exhausted. 

The second you crash land onto your bed you grab a nearby pillow before yelling into it. 

Because god damn you fucked up. 

Not only did you have drunk sex with the one person you hate, you also said something completely dickish as you walked out the door. 

“This was a mistake,” were your last words as you shut the door to Shinobu’s apartment. You didn’t get to see her face throughout the whole 10 minutes of shame, adamant about putting your clothes on with your back facing her, and she didn’t say anything the whole time. She just let you leave. 

The clock ticks away as you grovel on your bed, head pounding while flashes of last night whiz through your head. You should've known it was Shinobu. 

The same purple eyes, the same petite figure (she’s 4’11” and the shortest in the department, hell yeah you know her general figure size,) the same high pitched voice that screamed your name- 

You groan in annoyance, hands raking through your hair before you decide to run a hot shower to burn away any trace of the witch from your body. 

When you finally walk into the lab all eyes turn to you. With eyebrows raised you decide to just make your way to your usual station, waving and greeting everyone a good morning. Maybe they’re looking at you because you finally found the time to go home and take a shower? 

The most you do in terms of keeping up appearances is taming your hair to the best of your abilities, so maybe they can tell that you aren’t wearing the same clothes from the last three days.

Once you’re at your station you see the stupid “department couples” poster sitting there again, and everyone shies away from your razor sharp glare as you survey every potential perpetrator. 

You pick the poster up to crumple it and throw it away when you see a picture of Shinobu and you shittily photo shopped together with stupid hearts around you two. That’s when you scream in frustration and everyone jumps. 

Araceli spots you the minute she walks in and she rushes over with some water, seeing as how drained you are. When you’re about to thank her, lo and behold the witch herself waltzes into class. 

You almost spit up your water when you see how she’s walking, stiff and with a small limp, and you almost feel guilty. Araceli gives you an odd look, and you try to wave her off. But Shinobu- that snake- sits herself beside Rama one station away from you and Araceli. 

Rama looks at her quizzically, considering they don’t talk too often, but he shrugs to himself and goes back to texting his physics major boyfriend. 

You’re trying to mind your business (sans Araceli because she’s taking her sweet time wiggling her eyebrows at you and glancing between you and Shinobu. Her words: that sexual tension is thicc. If only she knew.) and conduct your experiments, but once Rama finishes his conversation with his boyfriend, he and Shinobu start some small talk. 

Shinobu gives you a quick look when she asks Rama if he went to the club last night and you pale considerably. 

“Oh, I spent the night in with my boyfriend,” Rama smiles politely before continuing. “Is that why you’re a little stiff today? Too much dancing?” He laughs to himself and Shinobu gives him a close eyed smile. 

“Things were just super hot and heavy last night!” 

Araceli’s eyes widen and she stares at you with her jaw dropped. You snap at her to keep working, but you can’t help but stop working too. In fact, everyone else in the room goes dead silent, and you pray that Shinobu will keep her damn mouth shut. 

“Wha-“ 

“I take this night yoga class, you know!” Que a sigh of relief from you. 

“I’m super flexible,” she boasts before adding in. “I can spread my legs quite wide!” You fumble with your test tubes, mind flashing to a few events from last night. 

Araceli begins to laugh silently at your red face and you nearly throw her out of the window. When you turn to secretly glare at Shinobu you find that despite the fact that she’s facing Rama, her eyes are pinned onto you. A malicious smile makes its way onto her face when she knows that she has your attention. 

“And then right after, I have a pole dancing class to keep me fit.” 

Rama laughs, “Oh really? Sounds fun!” 

“It is! But yesterday I was dumb and I jumped onto the pole and uhh……. rammed my…” She looks down and onlookers flush red. “So I’m quite sore today!” 

There’s the sound of shattering glass from another station (not your own, but you’re damn near close to breaking the Erwin Meyer flask in your hand.) Now, Shinobu’s just trying to rile you up. 

And it’s working. 

Also, you hate to think it but THANK G O D HE’S GAY. 

“Ow, well that sounds rough…”

“If I could, I would take the classes on different days, but there aren’t many classes available so my hands are tied.” 

Everyone in the lab startles when you slam your hands onto the counter, stool screeching against tile as you stand from your seat. 

There’s a look of victory in Shinobu’s eyes and your stomach twists with rage because she’s such a bitch. She relishes in the dark look in your eyes, your tense shoulders and the way you make your way up to her. 

“Can I help you, (F/n)?” She asks innocently, and you feel something in you snap. Everyone holds their breath when you whip a hand out, gripping the lapels of her lab coat and bringing your face down to her’s. 

Shinobu shivers when you leans in close to her ear and murmur under your breath, “How about you stop being such a dirty whore, be a good girl, and meet me behind the building, hm?” 

You smirk when you see how she shifts in her seat and crosses her legs, and you shove your hands into your lab coat pockets, walking out of the lab with a shocked puppy in tow. 

—

[ Next Chapter ]

[enigmasalad]

Weddings Are Great And All But  My Mom Wants You Over For Dinner Tonight

It has been a boring day so far. Deceit was currently typing away on his fifth laptop (his personal one cause the other four are for his “business”). Remus had gotten a last-minute contract from a rather entitled older man who wanted one of his nephews or something killed. So here Deceit was, alone, bored and totally enjoying his day off. And even though he had just planned a “vacation” for them, he couldn’t get rid of the sappy loneliness in his chest. He groaned and shut his laptop because he needed a nap.

He went to their bedroom, a relaxed form of exhaustion seeping into his limbs once he entered the room. He turned his head to where Jekyll and Hyde were. The twin-headed snake was taking a nap after a rather indulgent lunch. Deceit smiled softly at the sweet creature before falling back onto the bed with his arms spread out. As he shut his eyes, he let his mind become passive, letting each thought come and go. With each thought he slowly drifted to that state between consciousness and sleep.

He didn’t know how long he was in this state, but he did know that he was now more on the conscious side. A soft, fond smile graced his lips before he even thought about it. “Hello Remus. How was the hunt today?” he asked.

 Just as he thought, an uneven pitched giggle revealed that the crazed man was indeed there. Deceit opened his eyes to meet wide green eyes that were filled with a mischievous joy, the kind of joy a child who stole a toy from a person they didn’t like had. “Boo! I thought I could surprise you this time!” Remus laughed.

“Were you about to jump on me or something?” Deceit asked, raising a brow.

“Yep! You looked so peaceful I thought it would be funny to startle you!”

 Remus crawled into bed, still in his lightly bloodied clothes and curled up by Deceit’s side. Deceit moved one of his gloved hands to Remus’s hair and gently scratched the man’s head. Remus let out a low, relaxed noise and snuggled closer.

 “Turns out the whole family was in on the kill. They gave me a large tip for not getting the floors bloody!”

 Remus paused before laughing.

 “Heh! Large tip! Heh heh!”

 Deceit rolled his eyes but smiled none the less at the crude joke. He gave a kiss to Remus’s head. Remus perked up and went to go kiss Deceit. Deceit moved his free had to Remus’s mouth to block the kiss.

 “Did you dispose of the body?” Deceit asked.

 Remus huffed and pouted.

 “I did!” “Remus.”

 Remus sighed and slumped a little.

 “I did not eat the body this time.”

 Silence.

 “Or anything else from the crime scene.”

“Good boy.” Deceit softly praised.

 Remus grinned as Deceit removed his hand and kissed him. Remus immediately and eagerly kissed back. And as usual Remus had to make the kiss filthy the second his lips met Deceit’s. They kissed for a while, enjoying each other’s presence. When they split Deceit decided to tell Remus the news.

 “I arranged our little vacation.” Remus grinned and wiggled excitedly, moving Dee with him a little.

 “Oh fun! Oh, we can use the blood money to get some things for the trip! Like toys! You know I love take two Ds at once!”

“Damn it Remus.”

——-

 “Roman get out of the kitchen.” “What? I just wanted to see what you’re doing! It smells good in here!” “Roman get out of the fucking kitchen I swear to go-don’t touch that!”

“Ow!”

 Roman huffed and held the hand Virgil whacked with a wooden spoon. Virgil glared at him and pointed the spoon at him. “Fine, fine! I’ll just go to Patton’s side of the kitchen!” Roman pouted and quickly moved over to where Patton was mixing batter.

 Patton giggled as Roman hugged him from behind and peppered his neck and cheek in quick kisses. Roman smiled and looked at where Virgil was making fresh pasta dough.

 “You could have this too, but you whacked me with a spoon! Also why are you making fresh pasta when we bought the quick pasta?” Roman had to ask.

 Virgil looked at Roman with a deadpan look, stopping the pasta dough making process.

 “I’m half Italian Roman. You fucking know this.” He said

“Well sorry for asking. Just figured with the time constraint you put on

 Patton laughed again, interrupting

 “Your mom makes the best pasta so I’m glad we’re having her recipe!” he praised.

 Roman grinned as Virgil blushed and ducked his head down. The argumentative tension instantly vanished. Patton had that kind of amazing power.

 “Anyways dear heart, what are you making?” Roman asked Patton, swaying them both gently.

“I asked Imaj what we should have for dessert this time and he asked if we could have brownies tonight so Im making brownies!” Patton replied before tasting the batter.

“Oh fuck yeah.” Virgil said while smiling a little.

 The Petrovs love pasta and brownies more than life itself.

 Patton and Roman chatted, Virgil putting his input every now and then. They talked about how Ginerva and Rosita were at the store, wondering what they were getting there.  Patton brought up how excited his boss, Adam, accepted to come as Patton’s father to the wedding. Adam was Patton’s boss, but the southern man from the Lone Star State was the closest thing to an actual father Patton had. Plus, he paid for Patton’s top surgery out of his own pocket without asking for anything back, so the definitely liked him.

Plus he threatened to shoot them if they ever hurt Patton so..

 “Is there anything I can help with?” Roman asked, mainly because he was bored

“No.” “Not really but I’ll let you know!”

 Roman placed a kiss on Patton’s cheek before rushing to Virgil and kissing his cheek. He ran out of the kitchen with a laugh as he heard Virgil sputter and went into the living room where Logan was sitting on the couch talking to Missy while Imaj sat near the corner with his ukulele and sheet music.

 “-used the blood eagle torture method to sacrifice to Odin and also get rid of people who have no honor in their lives.” Missy was rambling, probably about Vikings.

“You are very knowledgeable about Vikings in..many aspects Missy.” Logan attempted to praise.

 It was a little awkward on how it came out but it made the irritable girl grin widely with pride. She pushed her Viking helmet up so it wouldn’t slide over her eyes.

 “Well duh.” Is all Missy had to say.

“Hello Tiny! Teaching Logan about Vikings again?” Roman greeted.

 Just like that, her smile turned back to her usual irritated frowny face.

 “Don’t call me tiny! Im going to rule the freakin world one day! Im not small!” She said, which only made Roman laugh fondly.

 He remembered when he had given Missy the nickname. She leapt off the couch and headbutted him in the gut so hard he curled up on the ground. Good..weird...good times.

 “And how are you right now Imaj? Still practicing?” Roman asked.

 Imaj startled upon hearing his name but he looked at Roman with a soft smile.

 “Mhm. I think I got it this time.” He answered quietly.

“Good! Will you be playing it for us sometime soon?”

Just like that, the young teen squeaked with embarrassment and pulled the hood of his hoodie over his head.

 “Nooooo..” he quietly whined.

“Alright, alright don’t disappear on me. I’ll leave you alone.”

 Roman sat down next to Logan and wrapped his arm around Logan’s shoulders, pulling the nerd closer.

 “And how are you my pocket protector?” Roman asked. “I am well as I can be.” Logan replied.

 Ah, Logan was nervous cause this was his first actual family dinner (and the first family dinner they’ve had since all four of them got together). It’s taken him a while to work up to this moment, but they were so proud of him.

Still didn’t mean Logan wasn’t nervous about it.

 “You’ll be fine mi amor. You know mama and Mrs. Ginerva love you.” Roman reassured.

“I know this, they’ve made it very apparent.” Logan said with a faint hint of a smile.

 Roman smiled and leaned in to give Logan a kiss. Logan huffed a laugh and met Roman the rest of the way.

 “VIRGIL YOUR BOYFRIENDS ARE BEING GROSS.”

 The two men were startled by Missy’s loud shouting.

 “I can’t help you right now! Cooking food!” Virgil called back.

“BUT ITS GROSS.” “You’re gross!” “NO YOU AND YOUR BOYFRIENDS ARE GROSS.”

 Patton came in, apron gone, and hands washed which meant the brownies were probably in the oven.

 “What’s this about being gross kiddo?” he asked. “They’re kissing!” Missy huffed.

“Kissing!” Patton faked a gasp.

 Missy nodded and crossed her arms grumpily. Roman watched as Patton came over and put his hands on his hips and gave a disappointed look.

 “Boys Im shocked at your behavior. How dare you be kissing-“ Patton then grinned widely. “Without me!” With that Roman’s arms were full of his bubby, kind boyfriend and Logan’s lips were being kissed by said boyfriend. Roman laughed as Missy let out a shriek and stomped to the kitchen. Soon Patton was kissing all over his face to, each kiss slightly ticklish and with an audible “mwah!” sound. They could hear Virgil chuckle from the kitchen. Logan was smiling softly, more relaxed with the ones he cares about near. Patton got up and sat next to the other side of Logan and held his hand tightly.

 “I’m happy we’re doing this. I’ve had family dinners before but..they lacked warmth.” Patton admitted.

“That’s one thing our family doesn’t lack is warmth.” Roman said with a grin. “Indeed. You and Virgil have…exceptional mothers.” Logan agreed.

 Roman grinned and wrapped around Logan’s shoulders.

 “I wasn’t just meaning them my iridescent nebula. You both are part of this family too now.”

“Awwww Roman!!!” Patton squealed.

 The sound of the front door opening interrupted anything else that could have been said.

 “Booooooys! Missy! We’re hoooome!” Roman’s mother, Rosita sing-songed

“Hi Miss Rosita! Hi Miss Ginerva!” Patton called back.

 Rosita giggled and came into the living room.

 “Dawww I hope you weren’t mentally scarring poor little Imaj over there.” She said.

 Oh shit Imaj has just been sitting there quietly. The thing about that kid besides having almost crippling anxiety is he could disappear from people’s view despite being there.

 “Don’t worry Rosita. I don’t mind.” Imaj softly said with a smile. “This is why you’re my favorite.” Roman said.

 Immediately there was a loud, high pitched angry “WHAT?” from the kitchen.

 Rosita grinned and bent down to kiss Patton’s cheeks, the usual greeting she gives loved ones. Patton giggled and held onto her arms as she went “Mwah!” with the two kisses. She then bent down and did the same to Logan. His face went red as Roman’s varsity jacket, but he sat still and allowed her to do so, because he honestly didn’t hate it. He’s never had any form of parental love and he once admitted he liked the affection the mothers gave him.

 “I’m so glad you both are here today. Our first dinner as a whole family!” Rosita cheerily said.

 Roman grinned at his loves. They looked happy. Things were normal. This family was normal.

 “Well hello my dears. Patton, thank you for making dessert.” Virgil’s mother, Ginerva said as she too entered the living room, holding two rather thick books in her hands.

“It’s no problem! I love baking! Plus, a meal isn’t complete without a sweet!” Patton said.

 Ginerva smiled. Then she held up the book with a mischievous glint in her eye.

 “Would you like to see some baby pictures after dinner?” she asked.

“Oh my gosh YES!” Patton squealed.

“Absolutely.” Logan agreed, his own grin on his face.

 Roman gulped.

 Maybe this was a horrible idea.

———-

 “Going to the sex store~ We’re going to the sex store~” Remus sang, unashamed as they walked through the mall.

 People glared at them as Remus walked next to Deceit, arms swinging back and forth happily. Deceit has once thought maybe he should stop Remus. Here’s the thing though.

 He didn’t give a fuck.

 These poor bastards can deal with Remus happily singing the lewdest things for a small portion of their lives, even if they weren’t going to the sex store.

 A mother gasped, offended and covered her child’s ears.

 “Shame on you!” she shrilled.

 Deceit flipped her off with both of his hands while Remus held his index finger and middle finger in a V formation in front of his mouth, wiggling his tongue in between the fingers with a wicked grin. The mother shrieked in horror.

 Deceit laughed as they left her. However, Remus grabbed his wrist and yanked him back to where Remus was.

 “I want that.” Remus said, pointing into an arcade.

 Inside the arcade was a claw machine with many stuffed animals. On top of the animal pile was a plush green octopus with tiny black eyes.

 “I’m not wasting my money on a rigged game,” Deceit said.

“But Deeeeeeee!” Remus whined.

“that’s why I’m not going to.” Deceit continued, holding up a wallet that totally was his.

 Remus grinned widely and held Deceit’s hand as they planned to spend every pound of an asshole’s money.

————

 Dinner was good, as usual. Virgil was a phenomenal cook and every dish he made was some of the best Roman’s had (he wont tell mama that though). He blushed as they complimented him.

 “This is yummy! What is this called again?” Patton asked.

“Bucatini all’Amatriciana. It’s nothing.” Virgil replied, eyes averted and blush on cheeks.

“I have no idea how to pronounce that but I love it! Logan loves it! Roman does too!”

 Roman will deny he was shoveling the pasta into his mouth messily ‘til the day he dies. It never happened. No way. Thankfully he wasn’t the only messy eater in the family, for Missy was doing the same thing, but messier.

 “You did good. I’m proud of you.” Ginerva praised with a soft smile.

“Whatever.” Virgil said, faint smile on his face at his mother’s praise.

 “So how is the wedding coming along?” Rosita asked with a smile. “We found a venue. It has a garden area that looked rather appealing to us so we’re planning the ceremony will be there. The reception will be inside.” Logan found himself effortlessly saying to Rosita.

  Roman was so proud of him and judging by Virgil and Patton’s smiles they felt the same.

 Imaj smiled, looking a bit excited at all this wedding talk.

 “I like gardens. They’re quiet and yet they’re lively.” He said, his approval and delight making the four men internally sigh in relief.

“Fuck gardens.” Missy grumbled as she stuffed pasta in her mouth.

“Marietta Ursa Petrov, you will not swear at this table. Do it again and you’ll be grounded.” Ginerva warned sternly

 Missy huffed but nodded, shoving more pasta to get everyone’s eyes off her. Ginerva turned to Virgil with stern eyes as well.

 “You too Mister. I know what a mouth you have.” “Yes mom.”

 Roman snickered at the scolding.

 “Oh! Remy got us measured for our wedding outfits a few weeks ago!” Patton cheerily said, changing the topic.

“Im so jealous of you boys. Friends with a famous fashion designer and won’t even get me a dress.” Rosita teased.

 Roman chuckled.

 “Mama he’d freak if he got to make you something. He’s our very own Edna Mode.” He said.

“Good to know! He better not hit me with a rolled-up newspaper or have heavy security in his studio.”

 Yeah dinner was nice, but afterwards was downright embarrassing. You see, Roman was convinced Miss Ginerva forgot about the baby pictures. He was so wrong.

 Logan and Patton sat on both sides of Ginerva as she pointed to pictures. “-on that Halloween I tried to get Virgil to be a cat or a witch or even Wednesday Addams. Whenever I’d propose an idea, he’d pout. He insisted he wanted to be Elton John for that Halloween, specifically Elton in the Im Still Standing video.”

 And for sure there was a picture of a small Virgil standing next to Roman, who was dressed as Hercules from Disney’s Hercules in Elton’s iconic outfit. On the other side of Virgil was a kid dressed as a garbage can who looked almost exactly like Roman.

 As embarrassed as he was, Roman smiled to see the picture of Remus, back when the three of them were the best of friends. Innocent.

 “Oh, and this picture didn’t turn out the way we wanted it. Rosita sneezed so the boys started crying.”

“I’ve said I’m sorry at least once a year since then Ginerva! Get over it!” Patton giggled at the picture of Virgil in the middle of Roman and Remus in a purple onesie crying. Roman was in a red striped overalls outfit sitting up and crying just as hard. Remus was in the same outfit but green and he fell back as he cried. It was adorable.

 “Mom please stop.” Virgil weakly pleaded, hood pulled over his face.

“Hush. They need to see these.” Ginerva said with a laugh.

They avoided pictures of Virgil’s father, who just up and left one day to go back home to Russia without a word. A slightly angry aura surrounded her, but she pushed on.

 “Oh, this is Rosita’s favorite!” Ginerva pointed out.

“Is it the play time one? Oh my goodness I love that one so much! Their chubby cheeks and tiny hands aaah!” Rosita squealed with a grin, getting up from the armchair and hurrying over.

“Mama stoooop.” Roman groaned.

 Logan gave Roman a look that suggested yes, this was indeed blackmail material. Roman flipped him off, only to be whapped lightly from his mother.

Damn you Logan.

 The photo had a “castle” made from cardboard boxes. Inside the castle was a grumpy, if not bored looking Virgil with a plastic princess tiara on his head and a bright pink princess dress over his black sweater. Roman had a plastic crown and pointed a foam sword at Remus, who had devil horns and fairy wings on. That was the closest they could get to a dragon.

 Rosita smiled wide, but it held a small bit of sadness. Roman knows, cause he feels the same way.

 “Ugh this one?” Virgil grumbled, looking over.

“You guys are adorable! I love your princess costume!” Patton cooed. “It was Roman’s.”

Roman laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck.

 “CUUUUUTE!”

 Rosita was telling the story about that day, but Roman found he wasn’t listening. He just stared at Remus in the photo, his grin wide and his hands bared like claws. His eyes filled with his usual mischief. He always wanted to be the villain or the monster. He remembered a time when Remus built a city out of blocks and toy cars and proceeded to stomp through it and making monster sounds, making Roman laugh at his brother’s silliness as he altered between making noises or pretending to be the shrill voice citizens of the town either being afraid or just saying the weirdest thing like “Dang it I left my pudding at home and now my pants are on fire!”.

Memories came rushing. The times they tried to do a secret handshake but could never remember the steps. The times they slept over at Virgil’s home with red and green matching pajamas and sleeping bags. The times they’d fight over the last homemade churro and forced to split it and apologize. When Remus would come to him when he had horrible nightmares of terrible actions his mind told him to do and he’d cry while hugging Roman tightly, who would cry cause his twin was sad. The gap-toothed grin Remus would give him as they planned to do some mischief and even sometimes dragging Virgil into it. Their red and green “brothership” bracelets they wore until they broke.

 “Im going to the bathroom. Don’t start dessert without me!” Roman suddenly blurted out, leaving the room and rushing quickly up the steps to the upstairs bathroom farthest away from the stairs.

 He locked the door and turned the fan on. He let out a shuddered gasp and pressed his back against the wall.

“You’re fine Roman. You’re fine. You’re with your family, your loves are enjoying themselves. Don’t ruin this for them. You’re fine.”

 Suddenly a sob escaped his lips. He couldn’t stop it. Oh god he was a horrible person. A fraud.

 He was the one that abandoned the other two members of their little musketeer group just for some ill-deserved attention by horrible people.

He was the one who pushed his brother away, insulting him and ignoring him when Remus didn’t understand what he did wrong.

He was the reason Remus was gone, never able to attend his wedding, to see his loves or be part of their growing family and instead out there doing who knows what. Was he even still alive?

His loves had poor choice in men, since they were marrying him.

His mother was a fool to love him because he was a horrible son.

 His fault.

His fault!

 A knock interrupted his thoughts.

 “Hijo I know you’re in there.”

 It was his mom.

 “I’m fi-“

“Open the door Roman.” She said, usual sass or warmth in her voice gone.

 Roman gulped and unlocked the door. He opened it for his mother to come in. She stepped inside and locked the door behind her.

 “Roman, my sweet baby.” She cooed comfortingly and cupped his face, which was wet with tears. “Lo siento mama. Lo siento!” he sobbed, burying his face in her shoulder.’

 She stroked his hair as he sobbed and shushed him softly. He gripped her white blouse and sobbed, feeling like a child again, guilty for doing something wrong.

 “Lo siento. I’m sorry! I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for turning those pictures into sad memories!” he cried.

 It felt like a million eyes were glaring at him, a phantom hand was gripping his throat. Harsh voices whispered his guilt over and over and over until he was dizzy.

 “Hijo it’s not your fault.” She whispered.

“But mama it is! I’m the reason he’s gone! I’m the reason family dinners feel so empty! I’m the reason I split our family apart!”

“Roman.”

 Rosita’s stern voice made him push back to look at her. Her green eyes stared into his blue ones, filled with tears, but held a strong determination and a love he could never comprehend.

 “Roman, it’s not your fault. Yes, you’ve made some mistakes, but it’s not your fault.” She said firmly, wiping his tears away with her thumbs.

She sighed shakily and frowned, which was never a good look on his usually happy mother.

 “It’s mine.” “Mama how could y-“ “It’s mine because I didn’t do anything. I didn’t guide you to make better decisions back then, like a mother should.”

 Roman’s lip wobbled, god he was an ugly crier.

 “It’s my fault that I was so focused on fixing Remus because I was scared for him that I didn’t even think about how he felt or wanted. Yes, your brother’s actions were troubling, deeply so, but I did nothing to help him. I did nothing to understand or support him. And now, its my fault for having you endure so much guilt.”

 It was quiet for a bit. Too quiet.

 “You may never stop feeling that guilt, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry you carried this with you for so long. But honey, I’m so proud of you!” Rosita said with a wobbly grin.

“What?” Roman shakily asked.

“I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself and making a change. I’m proud of you for making things right with Virgil. I’m proud of you for being such a hard worker, and an amazing dreamer. I’m so proud of you for being a kind and determined man who puts everything into what he does.”

“And honey, I’m proud of you for being a good lover. For being true to yourself even though its scary. I’m proud of you for saving Patton from those god-awful people and supporting Logan during this dinner cause I know he was nervous. I’m proud that you and Virgil and Patton and Logan love each other so much. That despite polyamorous marriage not being legal here, you all said fuck it, cause love conquers everything.”

 Roman whimpered before sobbing again. He may never get over the guilt, but with time he can move on. He was so fortunate to have people who he loves with all his heart, and they love him with theirs. He had the best family and the best friends, even if it was hard to see that at times.

 He had the best mother.

————

“Why don’t we break it?” “Remus we need to remain as anonymous as we can.” “Boo!” “Do you want this octopus or not?”

 It was their last dollar out of like, three hundred. They took a break ‘cause they got hungry, but they came right back. Remus watched, eyes looking between the claw of the machine game and his love’s concentrated and yet frustrated face. He looked like he was about to scream “YOU LOSE! Good DAY SIR!” in a shrill tone.  The claw once again picked up the green octopus. Its floppy tentacles hang limp as the claw started to slowly move over to the little dispenser chute. It suddenly slipped through the claw’s metal arms.

 “NO!” they both almost screamed.

 Ah, but a miracle has happened! One of the octopus’s tentacles was caught on the claw! The claw moved over the chute and dropped the plushie down into it. “YEAH!” Remus cheered, hearing a startled yelp from someone.

—————

Roman came down with his mom, face clean and no longer blotchy. He smiled as he saw his family still sitting downstairs. They turned to him and Patton grinned, looking relieved. Logan and Virgil just stared at him like he had done something stupid.

 “Dude I can’t believe you got your hand stuck in the faucet drain. What were you doing?” Virgil asked.

 Roman turned to Rosita, who grinned. Oh, his mom made up an excuse to check on him, which was nice, but still that’s embarrassing. He came up with a lie to not seem like too much of an idiot.

 “I was washing my hands when one of mama’s earrings she left by the sink went down the drain! I had to rescue it! It was her favorite pair!”

“Well now that you rescued the earring, we were gonna have brownies and watch Frozen 2! Interested?” Patton proposed.

“Definitely!”

 Roman felt so much better. He sat down on the couch with Virgil pressed against his side and Logan’s head on his shoulder. Patton came back with brownies for everyone and gave Roman a peck on the lips as he gave Roman his treat. Rosita and Ginerva argued over how Disney Plus worked, only for Logan to instruct them carefully. As Ginerva got the movie set up, Imaj sat down on the floor with his knees drawn up in between Patton and Virgil, happily nibbling on his brownie. Missy walked over and crawled into Roman’s lap, still looking irritated, but there was a shy plush on her face. He decided not to say anything and just ruffled her hair. She smiled a bit at that. Then, she grinned a mischievous grin that reminded him of when Virgil jump scared them as a vampire last Christmas and..someone he used to know.

 “I hope Olaf dies.” She said.

 Patton and Rosita gasped in horror as Virgil laughed loudly.

———-

 “What are you going to name it?” Deceit asked Remus.

 Remus looked at the cute octopus in his hands.

 “Can Mr. Squishyboo join your tea party Roman?”

“Yeah, but he can’t poison the tea this time! Ms. Fluffybottom got sick last time!” “Fiiine. Then you can’t call him a squid. He’s an octopus!”

 Remus smiled softly down at the octopus’s happy little face.

 “Squishyboo jr.” he said.

“Oh thank god. I thought you were going to name it hentai.” Deceit sighed.

“Oh! His full name is Squishyboo jr Hentai Lokir!” Remus laughed loudly.

“Do not use my last name for your stuffed animal.” Deceit huffed.

 Remus giggled and kissed his love’s forehead. They walked hand in hand out of the arcade, past Pac-man games and children giggling and playing ski-ball. They were near the entrance when a man with a pink Sailor Moon T-shirt stopped them for a moment.

 “Oh my stars I love your Invader Zim crop top sir!” he said, Irish accent prominent.

“Thank you! I love your anime titty lady!” Remus greeted back as they left, Deceit snickering and squeezing his hand with affection.

——-

 The man just blinked for a moment before noticing his phone was ringing. He smiled and answered it.

 “Heeeey babe! How’s your like, family reunion going?” a voice spoke from the other end.

“ ‘ello Remy. Its going fine! Mum, Mama and Dad want you to come next year!”

“Maybe I will go. Like, making wedding stuff is okay, but like, when its for your friends, it sucks. Like, I know im the best bitch in this business, but it has to be so perfect they cry.”

“You are the best Remy. They wouldn’t ask you if you weren’t”

 A laugh on the other end.

 “This is why I love you Emile, my little piece of Picani pie.”

 Emile Picani giggled.

 “So, what are you doing now?”

“I’m about to set a high score on the DDR machine. I saw they had some Miku songs and I wanted to try them!”

“Fuck yeah Miku. Hey, face time me so I can see you like, totally shame on everyone’s scores.”

[crazy-little-cool-cat]

Hand in Glove - Chapter 7 | Ben Hardy x OFC

A/N: I’m not sure you’re all ready for this. I’d like to dedicate this chapter to Kate, who inspired this shitshow (Alex and Julia this is for you, too). Ben and Gwil posted shit on IG and my ovaries are not ok. 

Word count: ~3.5K

Warnings: Emotional fucking rollercoaster. There will be smut. There will be fluff. There will be angst. I’M NOT EVEN SORRY.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

“Do we have any condoms left?” Annie breathed out as Ben covered every inch of her neck in sloppy, wet kisses.

“No,” Ben mumbled against her skin, his hands working their way down her torso, “don’t worry about it…”

Annie wasn’t sure if she was too drunk or just too damn horny, but whatever Ben was doing to her seemed to make her forget her own name. With a leg on each side of her, Ben sat back on his heels and admired the body in front of him, pulling his lip in between his teeth as he imagined all the things he can, and probably will, do to her. Condoms be damned.

With nothing but their knickers on and pure admiration shining in their eyes, they looked like a poster for some underwear company. Ben’s muscles rippled under his skin as he moved down to kiss Annabelle’s plump, red lips. Her breath hitched when Ben’s hand snaked under the waistband of her panties and his warm palm cupped her groin. His fingers trailed lines, up and down, teasing her, making her grind into his hand.

Travelling down the column of her neck, Ben’s fingers edged their way into her slit, collecting the warm slickness of her on them. Her back arching, Annabelle tangled her fingers in his mop of blond hair while he sucked on her tit, his tongue circling her hardening nipple. At a gentle tug of her hand in his hair, Ben looked up at her flushed face, smiling devilishly. He inserted one finger into her, never breaking eye contact, and worked her other nipple, feeling her squirm under him.

“Take them off already,” Annabelle grunted and shimmied her hips, “do I have to do everything myself around here?”

“Say no more,” Ben chuckled and swiftly ripped her panties right off her body, raising an eyebrow at her shocked gasp, “I’ll buy you new ones.”

“Jesus, Ben!”

Giggling, he worked his way down her body with his mouth, settling comfortably between her legs, bringing her thighs to rest on his shoulders. With his fingers firmly pressed to her hipbones, Ben wasted no time in getting to the point. His tongue licked up her wet pussy, flicking against her clit. Annabelle propped herself up on her elbows and looked down at her blond angel while he devoured her, her mouth agape with desire.

“I need your cock in my mouth,” Annie murmured, her hips bucking up to Ben’s face. Her request only egged Ben on. He went about his task with an intensity she didn’t know he had in him. The only thing coming out of her mouth now were gasps and moans, “Ben, please.”

He gave her one last lick, his tongue flat against her, before he leaned back up and shoved his tight boxers down his legs, kicking them off. Annie crawled on all fours, flipping her long hair back over her shoulder, before she settled in front of him. She glanced up and smiled when she saw his chin shining in the dim light from the wetness he had collected. Leaning in, her warm breath washed over him.

Ben gulped when her tongue darted out and licked along the vein from the base of his shaft to the very tip. Swirling her tongue around it, she took him in her mouth and moaned around him when his hands picked her hair up in a ponytail. Annabelle cupped his balls in one hand and pulled his hips closer to her face with the other, hollowing her cheeks and rolling her tongue under his twitching cock. A deep moan escaped his mouth when her nose bumped his pelvis, his grip on her hair tightening and tugging with every bob of her head.

Ben started pumping his hips into her face, controlling the pace. Hissing and grunting, Ben felt like he had died and reached heaven and this was his welcome party. He couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful face under him, the swollen red lips around his cock made his mouth water. He needed those lips to be everywhere, all at once. Annie reached down and started rubbing slow, lazy circles around her clit, her moans vibrating around him.

“Fuck,” Ben grunted and pulled his hips back, before he pushed Annie back and laid flush on top of her, pushing his hips against hers as he hungrily kissed her lips, “fuck, Annie.”

“I want to.”

Ben was so hard by now that he didn’t need anymore coaxing and guiding. Snaking an arm under her back and pulling her closer, he penetrated her, screwing his eyes shut at the feeling of her wrapped around him.

“Ben,” Annie grabbed his face in her hands, “I’m not on the pill.”

“Me neither.”

#########

Annie tried be as quiet as she possibly could, considering the circumstance. It was the middle of the night. Ben was sound asleep in his bed, Frankie cuddled up to his bent feet. Annie has not been feeling very well for a couple of days now; waking up in the middle of the night running desperately for the toilet. She even ended up falling asleep with her head resting on the toilet seat.

This time she actually managed to fully close the door behind her before her stomach turned into an erupting volcano, so she let herself heave a bit louder. Still, she’d hate to wake Ben up. She heard a light scratching at the door and sighed, knowing Frankie was just worried about her new gal-pal.

“Alright, baby girl,” Annie whispered as she opened the door, crawling around on her hands and knees, “but you have to be quiet, okay? Daddy’s sleeping.”

Just the other night, Frankie had a complete meltdown when she found Annie bent over the loo, emptying her guts out. She barked and yelped and woke Ben up, and he was beside himself with concern. Annie let one hand dangle over the edge of the toilet and smiled when Frankie licked it comfortingly.

“Annie? Franks?” Ben’s sleepy, croaky voice called from the bedroom, “s’everything okay?”

“It’s fine, Ben,” Annie tried to sound normal but her voice was too strained, “just had a bad dream, getting some water.”

“Bad dream?” Ben shuffled around the bedroom and appeared in the doorway to the en-suite bathroom, his hair sticking up in all directions and his face squished with sleep, “why are you hugging the loo, then?”

“Just felt a bit queasy,” Annie forced a smile, “is all.”

“You sure?” Ben rubbed his eyes sleepily, “maybe you should see a doctor? Call in sick?”

“I’m fine, Ben,” Annie grumbled as she got up to her feet, “let’s go back to bed.”

“Are you -”

“I’m fine. Really.”

#########

Her head was about to implode. After having the worst day on set and hardly any sleep, Annie simply wasn’t okay with what the guys had planned for Joe’s birthday party. She knew it would be ridiculous, but she had no idea just how bad it could get.

The private room in the karaoke bar was now full of drunk people, trying to sing their favourite songs on a little stage - and failing, mostly. There was a huge screen splayed out on the wall, showing the lyrics and some bad scenery video clips. The disco ball hanging from the ceiling turned slowly, casting sparkles down on the entire room. Brightly coloured lights flickered around. Drinks were everywhere. Everywhere but in Annie’s desperate tummy.

“At least have one drink,” Ben was just about to reach his incoherent drunk state, “for me? Please?”

“No, Ben,” Annie scowled, “I told you, I’m trying not to puke again tonight.”

“Again?” Gwil peeked over the top of Annabelle’s head, “you mean it’s still going on? Annie, it’s been, what,” he scoffed, “around a week, now?”

“How do you even…” Annie started turning around and whipped her head back to Ben’s smiling face, “really, Ben?”

“They asked how you were doing,” Ben shrugged.

Joe collapsed on Ben’s lap and wrapped his arm around his neck, gazing romantically into his eyes as he serenaded to him. He whacked the microphone on Ben’s head a few times when he felt like Ben wasn’t paying attention. Annabelle and Gwilym looked at the two drunks and sighed.

“You know, you’re kind of ‘the other woman’ in this whole situation,” Annabelle wiggled herself under Gwilym’s inviting arm.

“Coming from a professional on-screen mistress,” Gwil pinched her side, “I’d take that as a compliment.”

“Okay, okay!” Ben managed to get up on his feet and grabbed the microphone, “s’my turn!”

Annie’s eyes widened in anxious anticipation as her boyfriend fiddled with the karaoke machine, perusing through the song selection. She figured he’d probably return Joe’s gesture and sing for him. The thought itself made her relax, ever so slightly. She recognised the song Ben chose within the first three seconds and rolled her eyes.

“Doesn’t take much to make me happy, and make me smile with glee,” Ben and Annabelle’s eyes locked, “never never will I feel discouraged, ‘cause our love’s no mystery…”

Annabelle groaned and shrinked back into Gwil, realising that Ben was about to get very awkward. His lack of shame after the right amount of drinks would usually go unnoticed by her when she’s just as drunk. This, however, was clearly not the case in point.

“Demonstrating love and affection, that you give so openly yeah” Ben’s head nodded to the beat, his clenched fist extended out and slowly pulled back in, coming to a stop right on his chest, “I like the way you make me feel about you baby, want the whole wide world to see!”

Moving his entire body to the song now, Ben walked towards a very embarrassed Annie, synchronised with the beat, singing “Whoa whoa, you got the best of my love…”

While Ben attempted to sing the chorus on key, Joe hurriedly scrambled to his feet and grabbed a spare microphone. Everyone’s palms immediately hit their faces. They all knew what was coming. Without exchanging a single word, the two belligerent fools turned Ben’s solo to a hopeless duet.

“Goin’ in and out of changes,” Ben pointed at his girlfriend as she peeked at him from behind her fingers, “the kind that come around each day…” Ben’s smile was so contagious, she couldn’t help but mirror it, “…my life has a better meaning, love has kissed me in a beautiful way!”

Ben and Joe managed to get through the chorus without sounding too awful. Annabelle looked at her boyfriend in awe, realising he would do anything he could to make her smile. He kneeled down in front of her as he carried on serenading her and took her hand.

“Demonstrating sweet love and affection, that you give so openly yeah,” Ben winked at Annie, making her burst into a fit of giggles, “The way I feel about you baby can’t explain it - want the whole wide world to see!”

Annie wasn’t sure when or how it happened, but she was singing along to the lyrics. She was having fun in a karaoke joint, without having a drop of alcohol in her system. Suddenly, her bad day was all but forgotten, and all that remained was her incredibly drunk boyfriend and his quite decent singing voice.

#########

“Well, you look like shit.”

Annie rolled her eyes at her co-star’s comment and sat down in her chair in the hair and make-up trailer. It has been nearly two weeks since her nightly trips to the loo have started, and she was sleep deprived, sick and tired.

“Will you please just shut it?” Annie snapped, “for once?”

“Unbunch your knickers, love,” Jamie reached over and poked her shoulder with his fingers, “I was just kidding.”

“Well,” Annie shot him a death glare, “you need to work on your jokes, then.”

“Sorry, geesh,” Jamie muttered, “what’s got you looking so drained?”

“Just feeling a bit sick,” Annie shrugged, “is all.”

“Still?” Jamie chuckled, “maybe you’re pregnant.”

“What did I just say about working on your jokes,” Annie grabbed the nearest object and threw it at Jamie, “you wanker!”

#########

“Jesus, Annie, are you okay?”

Ben peered over Annie’s shoulder as he held her hair back and rubbed her back soothingly while she emptied the contents of her stomach, once again. This was just over the second week that it happened, and Ben was getting genuinely concerned. People don’t just hurl every single day for two weeks. Annie pressed her forehead to her forearm and wiped the side of her mouth.

“I think I just ate too much fried food,” she was weak after praying to the porcelain gods, yet again. She wished this would just stop. “Or just had something bad for dinner?”

“Yeah, but for two weeks now?” Ben couldn’t help but laugh, “what did you eat, woman?”

“Please don’t mention eating right now,” Annie whimpered, feeling another wave coming, “could you maybe get me some water?”

“But then who will hold your hair back and tell you how gorgeous you look with your head down the crapper?”

“Ben, I swear to God -”

“I’m just joking,” he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head and let her hair fall from his grip, “calm down.”

Their phones bleeped at the same time, making them both groan. It has been just over two months since they ‘came out’ as being in a relationship and the articles just wouldn’t stop. The tabloids were so desperate to create love triangles that just didn’t exist. Frankly, Ben and Annie were getting very fed up with being the talk of the day.

“Just ignore it,” Ben shrugged, “one glass of water, coming right up.”

“Thanks.”

When she was certain Ben had left the bathroom, Annie reached for her phone and unlocked the screen.

“I thought I told you to ignore it!”

“Yes, and it was a nice thought,” Annie tilted her head sideways, still feeling spent, “but then I thought I might as well ignore you, instead!”

“What is it now, then?” Ben passed her the glass of water, “are you dating your own cousin behind my back?”

“He should be so lucky,” Annie giggled and took a long, slow, sip, feeling the cool water travel down her throat, “no, actually. It’s just us two, this time.”

“Oh, good,” Ben kissed Annie’s temple, “come back to bed now?”

“How much longer do we have?”

“My alarm will go off in exactly two and a half hours.”

#########

“Just pee on the fucking thing already!”

Annabelle’s nostrils flared as she looked at Clara’s furrowed face. This isn’t the first time they have been in this situation, neither is it the last. The two girls stood in Gwilym’s guest bedroom, feeling like it’s deja-vu. With a groan, Annabelle snatched the rectangular cardboard box and stomped to the adjoining loo, slamming the door behind her. Clara jumped back at the loud ‘boom’ and started pacing the room, making little eight-figures as she nervously waited.

“Clara?”

“Yeah?”

“Has it been 5 minutes?”

“Yeah.”

“Stupid bitch!” Annabelle hissed and opened the door, chucking the white stick at Clara, “I am a stupid, stupid bitch!”

Clara flipped the stick over and blinked, gobsmacked. She gently placed the stick on the dresser and left the room quietly. Not long after, she came back, Gwil at her heels.

“What?” Gwil’s eyes darted between the two eerily quiet girls, “what’s wrong?”

Clara pointed at the stick on the dresser with one hand, the other biting down on her nails nervously. Gwil raised an eyebrow but picked the stick up. He shook it a few times as if it was an Etch-a-Sketch, flipping it around, hitting the dresser with it.

“Annie,” Gwil tried to keep his voice nice and calm, “are you sure you did it right?”

“I peed on the thing and that’s what came out, Gwil,” Annie whisper-screamed, “so yeah, pretty bloody sure!”

“Fuck,” Gwil rubbed his face with his hands, “alright, okay. This might be a mistake. How many of these did you pee on?”

“Seriously, Gwil?!”

“How many?”

“Just this one.”

Gwilym nodded quietly and left the room, leaving Annie and Clara alone. Seconds later, he came in with Jamie in tow.

“So, there’s a situation,” Gwil started. Jamie’s eyes scanned the three worried faces before  his gaze landed on an all too familiar white stick.

“Uh oh.”

“I’m going to have to ask you to go ahead and buy a few more of these, please,” Gwil spoke in a hushed voice, “right now.”

“Wow,” Jamie chuckled and looked at a very unamused Annie, “this brings back some memories.”

“This is not the fucking time, Jamie,” Clara snapped and lowered her voice again, “just go, please?”

“Where’s Jamie going?” Joe sauntered into the room, a bottle of beer in his hand, “what are you all whispering about?”

“Nothing! Everything’s fine!” Clara snapped out of it first and tried to make her voice as chipper as possible.

“Yeah, Annie’s just feeling a little squeamish,” Jamie said, unaware of the fact that he’s waving the white stick around as he spoke.

“Jamie you fucking idiot!” Annie hissed and drew even more attention to the man.

“Is that -”

“I’ll get to it, then!” Jamie saluted the group with the stick and walked out, leaving a baffled Joe in his wake.

“Was that a -”

“It was.” Gwil answered before the question was completely out there.

“Whose…”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Clara?” Joe asked hopefully.

“By whom?!” Clara snorted, “the holy bloody ghost?!”

“How much time do we have?” Annie sounded utterly defeated.

“Ben won’t get here for another hour.”

“Okay then,” Annie’s eyes were closed as she pinched the bridge of her nose, her other hand gripping the door frame, “I’m going to need lots of water. Now.”

#########

Timers were dinging left and right. White sticks littered the bathroom floor. Every time Annie picked one up, she felt less and less mentally stable.

“Banana?” Gwil’s comforting voice came from behind the door, “everything alright?”

“It’s open, you can come in.”

Gwil’s head peeked through the door. His face fell when he saw Annie’s broken expression, right in the midst of all of the discarded kits. There she was, sitting back on her heels, on the floor, her hands buried in her hair, gently pulling at it.

“Are they all…”

“Yes.”

“Is it horrible that I’m actually really happy for you?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Probably.”

“Can you please use more words?” Gwil laughed uncomfortably, “you’re starting to scare me.”

Annie looked up at her cousin with wide, bloodshot eyes. For the first time in years, she was crying. It wasn’t a sobbing, heaving cry; it was silent. She just sat there as tears fell down her cheeks, not making a sound. Gwil had seen her like this only once before, and he hated it more now than he did then.

“Please don’t cry, Annie,” Gwil crouched in front of her, wiping her tears away with his fingers, “please?”

At the mention of the word ‘cry’, Joe pushed the door open and rushed down to Annie’s side, wrapping a comforting arm around her. Clara started picking up the used kits and placing them neatly on the counter.  Jamie leaned against the door frame, his eyes fixed on the tile flooring.

“Guys?” Ben’s voice boomed from the hallway, “where is everyone?”

“Go!” Annie tried to scramble to her feet.

“Guys?” Ben’s voice drew closer and closer.

“Over here!” Jamie called over his shoulder.

“What’s going on?” Ben’s face scrunched up in confusion before he took in the pathetic sight of his girlfriend, sitting on the bathroom floor, tears streaming down her face, “Annie?”

“We’ll, uh -” Joe started.

“You two need to talk.” Jamie hissed at Ben, bumping his shoulder on the way out of the room.

When they all filed out of the room and closed the door behind them, Annie stood up and wiped at her cheeks, harshly. Ben just stared in bewilderment at the sight. He had never, ever seen her cry before. She was one of the most resilient, strongest people he knew. Nothing could ever make her cry. He scanned his surroundings, slowly walking over to the neat row of white sticks on the counter. He picked one up, studied it, put it down and moved on to the next.

“Those are mine.”

“Oh, okay,” Ben said, not paying attention to the words coming out of her mouth until they hit him like a piano had been dropped on his head, “wait, what?”

“What part of what I just said did you not fucking understand?” she rolled her eyes, practically growling at her boyfriend, “fucking twat.”

“These are -”

“Yep.”

“That means you’re -”

“Good job, Sherlock!”

“Oh, enough with the bloody attitude!” Ben chucked one of the sticks at her, “are you pregnant?”

“Seems like it.”

“Oh my God.”

Ben couldn’t help but smile. Clearly, that was not the reaction Annie had expected.

“No…”

“Annie, that’s -” Ben’s smile faltered when Annie made a bee line for the door, “wait! Where are you going?”

Without so much as a glance, Annie flung the door open and walked out.

#########

TAGLIST: @ramibaby @xgoingdownx @clara-who @violetpond @sweeterthancheese @drummerqueenrmt @westansstuff @rogerinamainbitch @justgivemethekeys @borhaprogerina @blondecarfucker @cheeseedreams47 @rogerspoison

[ithinkimtheresponsibleone]

backstory for both owo

Okay, fair warning in case you don’t block tags or whatever;

Tw for: Transphobia, Dysphoria, Manipulation, and Self Harm

Okay? Okay.

OG Universe

Ace took a shaky breath, hiding in his room. He could still hear his parents yelling at each other downstairs. Oh, why did he think it was alright to come home late?

Hot tears brimmed his eyes as he sunk to the floor, hearing ‘she’ and ‘her’ along with ‘it’- as if he wasn’t her child but instead a robot or something she held no emotional connection with. He hated being called that so much- being thrown around as if he hadn’t already tried to correct his mom numerous times already. Each felt like a stab to the stomach, dropping the pit that rested there further and further until it felt like anything he would eat would just sit in his throat instead of his stomach.

And now? His mom and dad were arguing over if he had a right to feel comfortable in this home- no, house. In this house. The term home didn’t seem all that applicable anymore.

As the yelling got louder, he flinched, immediately darting up. Now standing, shaking ever so slightly. Tears blurred his vision as a spike of panic ran through his system. He looked at where his tank used to be- it used to house his rosy boa named Duke. It was no longer there of course, snakes weren’t a pet for good girls. Ace didn’t understand it, of course, that snake was his only comfort at times and had offered a sense of usefulness, even when he had told her numerous times that he was a boy and a feeling of worthlessness settled in his gut, but she dismissed it all with a simple “you’re not old enough to know yet” and “all girls feel like that, it’s okay, it’s normal. You’re still a girl.”

He wanted to destroy himself. Destroy every aspect of himself that could be associated with anything feminine; which at the time was all of him.

He took a shaky breath as a sob squeezed the air out of his lungs, pushing the tears off his cheeks with shaky hands. Ace could still feel the faint burn of the cuts across his chest, stinging from the rapid expansion and deduction from the short breaths. He bit the insides of his cheeks hard, in hopes to distract himself.

He laid on the bed and pulled the covers up and over him, pretending that it would shield him from whatever was happening elsewhere in the house. He knew whatever comfort he was gaining from this would be quickly ripped away from him as soon as the yelling settled, as his mom had a habit of ripping off the covers in order to talk to her ‘lovely daughter’ face to face because apparently that’s what kids should do even if it embarrassed and humiliated them in the process.

He pulled the blankets tighter around himself as the yelling subsided, shaking. Why was it so hard to please adults? That’s all he wanted, the fighting to stop, the loudness of everything to be put on hold too. For Zane- his younger brother by five years- to not be subjected to this when he grows old enough to understand the words that were being said, and for Amelia- his older sister by two years- to stop avoiding the house in hopes that she wouldn’t have to sit through and watch her brother suffer in silence.

There was a knock on the door and Ace held his breath as if that would help anything in the slightest. Maybe the blankets would let him suffocate and pass out so he wouldn’t have to deal with anything, he could just fade into warm darkness until all of this passed and he could wake up a million years into the future. He was sure people a million years in the future wouldn’t make him feel like this. They’d call him a boy. Ace was sure of it.

“Nicole,” his mother spoke softly as if speaking to a misbehaving infant, knocking on his door again and louder, “please open the door, I just want to talk.”

He didn’t respond, either way he knew he didn’t have a say in the matter. If she wanted to talk, they would talk. There was no way around this and no safe way out. Ace just continued to hold his breath as his eyes were left with no more tears to cry- or maybe they stop unconsciously, knowing that his mom would spend more time with him if he was visibly still upset and just try to explain herself and her thoughts that physically hurt him and made him wish for nothing more but the heat of a flame back on his arms.

“I’m coming in.”

No, leave me alone.

His mom opened the door slowly, walking over to his bed and, as expected, tore the blankets off of him until it was just him curled up on the mattress as dried tears were still felt on his cheeks. Only then did he exhale his breath, refusing to look at her as she sat on the side of the bed as if she didn’t rip away the last shreds of comfort he was trying to hold onto.

“Nicole, you know I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m your mother, I’m just worried.” She started, grabbing Ace’s arm tightly and forcing him to sit up beside her on the bed, practically making him look at her.

“You know this, right? I just want whats best for my daughter.”

No you don’t. “Yes, I know. I’m sorry for overreacting.r” Ace replied quietly, wishing that she would leave right now. Instead, she moved her arm to cup his face and wipe away his tears with her thumb. Her hands felt like a weight chaining him down in place.

“When I was you’re age, I would have been so jealous of you,” She said as if it would make anything better, “you’re so pretty, like a little flower. I would have loved a body like yours, you’re lucky! What your feeling is normal, all girls hate themselves in one way or another, trying to look like a boy and hiding from your insecurities does nothing to help you.”

Except, they weren’t insecurities. An insecurity is something you’re sensitive about, not something that makes you want to cut it off entirely and makes your brain feel like it’s going to combust from uncomfortability. Not all girls hated themselves- in fact, Ace could go so far to say that almost all the girls he knew loved themselves. He didn’t even want this body anyways!

He got pulled into a tight hug, reminding him of everything he hated about himself, as he was struck by his mom’s strong perfume that made him feel sick.

“I love you so much Nicole, more than the whole world.”

“…I love you too, mom…”

PJO Universe

He didn’t quite know what to expect, Ace never did spend a lot of time in the US except that one time he had to attend school in New Jersey because of his dad’s work. Besides that though? He wasn’t sure about nearly everything in the US and the lack of french everywhere made him feel… less than welcome to say the least.

Ace took a breath as if that would fill him with the ability to kick whatever anxiety was wiggling aggressively in his gut and filling his mind with the buzz of doubts and ‘what if’s. The air made him cough just a little bit. Just a bit. Though, he walked into the nome not long afterwards, mentally telling himself that everything was out of his control and was going to go horribly wrong anyways so what was delaying it really going to do in the end?

“Birdie!”

Of course that’s what he was greeted with when he ended up in Nome 21. The all too familiar screech of Kitlyn, who quickly threw her entire weight onto him. He stumbled back a few steps, having forgotten what she was like when excited.

She smiled up at him innocently, “hi! I missed you!”

He couldn’t help but start laughing, hugging her tightly. “I missed you too Chaton.”

“So, important questions first, do I need to kill anyone?” Kitlyn asked, wiggling out of Ace’s grip.

“Nah, no murder.” Ace shook his head, “I can do that by myself, Chaton.”

Kitlyn stuck out her tongue at him, “but I’m offering!”

“And I’m saying no.” Ace sighed, crossing his arms with a small smile still resting on his face. At least there was someone familiar here.

“Rude!” Kitlyn huffed, stomping her foot and crossing her arms as well.

“Eh, not really.” Ace shrugged.

[mylovefortomholland]

Win or lose part 2

Title: win or lose - Part two!

Type: one shot (now a two shot)

Pairing: Peter parker x reader

Warnings: Angst? And language!

Summary/Request: It was requested with the Prompt 2.5 “You just stood there and laughed with the others at me!”

Word count: ~1.500

Note: Day six of my birthday-special!:)

Let me know if you want to get tagged in my upcoming Posts!:D

So many of you requested a part two, and I’m excited to deliver :3

Read the first part here!

~~

After your more than embarrassing attend to ask Peter out to Homecoming things went down pretty fast.

The yellow bus in front of you got load up with your bags and few suitcases, Abe and Sally quizzed themselves and Flash made an unfunny joke about whatever, you didn’t listen anyway.

You were just about to throw your bag into the trunk of the bus, as your best friend bumped into your shoulder.

“The snake’s coming. I’ll repeat, the snake is coming”, they warned you about Peter, who’s running towards the school bus.

The eyes of everyone were fixed on him, except yours. You denied him even a gaze.

“Hey, it’s Peter”. Abe was the first who said something, snapping everyone else out of their silent staring contest against Peter.

“Peter?”, Liz asked him with just his Name what he wanted, because he left the Team on his own.

“Yeah, I was hoping I could rejoin the team?”

Flash went in front of everyone, defending his own place, which previously belonged to Peter. “No, no way. You can’t just quit on us, stroll up and be welcomed back by everyone!”, Flash was close to throw a tantrum, but Mr. Harrington stepped out of the bus, welcomed Peter right back and relegated Flash back to the first alternate position.

After a while Liz pulled out her Quiz cards, asking a bunch of question and earning a bunch of answers, even if not all of them were right. She even had the audacity to flirt with Peter, and he had the guts to somehow flirt back?

But who cares, right? You weren’t here because of him or her. You’re here because you’re smart and the team needs you, even if you hadn’t a position on the table, you were still an enrichment for them.

You reached Washington dc in around four hours, it felt like six for you, and were on your way to your Hotel, with this huge entry area with a bird in there, but you didn’t pay much attention to it. All of you were just really glad, because your room were already ready for you.

You shared one with your best friend, but regret it the moment the door closed.

“So, should I kill Peter when he gets too near to you? You know, I can let bodys disappear”, they wiggled with their hands and made a funny face.

“No, nothing of that. Just stay near me and… I… I can’t even blame him, right? I mean just take a look at Liz and her perfectly swung lips, her glowing skin and those big, tender puppy eyes!”, you growled, buried your face in your pillows.

You could feel how the mattress gave in a bit, before you felt the hand of (Y/bf/n) on your back, rubbing you a bit. “You know, everyone who isn’t as obsessed with you as they are with her are idiots, so Peter fucking Parker is a huge one”, they chuckled. “I overheard, that some of your team want to go to the pool?”

They didn’t have to ask you directly, you already knew what they wanted to ask anyway. So, without and answer, you threw on your bikini, grabbed a towel and followed your crew to the pool area, but not without hearing Liz talk to Peter. In such a flirty way, your stomach turned. Liz played with her hair, while peter was… he was so distracted, he didn’t even get that she was flirting with him. He didn’t come with you.

Peter had another mission, a more important one. He had to look for that lair from his enemy. Of course, he wanted to go with you, but his spider-man duty had priority, so he climbed on to the roof, watched his crew messing around in the pool and Liz, as she said something to Flash.

But then, his eyes caught you. The girl which heart he broke a couple weeks ago, and the girl which pushed him out of her life. And he understood why. He questioned himself, after the sentence you threw so venomous at him.

“Just because you’re so obsessed with another girl”

Was he really THAT obsessed? No, he just had a huge crush, right? He didn’t do anything wrong, he was just a boy who fell in love with a girl, which never ever acknowledged him, if he wasn’t in the decathlon-team. He was just like you, with a crush on someone else.

---

YOU WON!

OH MY GOSH, congratulation on your Victory over the Decathlon! To celebrate that, Mr. Harrington took you to the Washington Monument, and all ov you – except of Michelle – went into the elevator.

The extremely passionate elevator-lady explained to you, that the Monument was 555 feet five and one-eight inches tall, that the stone and marble are cut around the stone and blah blah blah, it clearly didn’t interest you at all. Instead of listening you talk whispered to your friend, about the absence of Parker. You knew he wasn’t with you at the Decathlon, that’s why Flash had to take his place, but now you were mad worried. Ned tried to calm you down with the excuse, that peter “doesn’t feel so good” (got it?).

Right before you could ask Ned again, a mix of blue and purple light shoot out from somewhere and burned a hole in to the ceiling from the elevator cap.

Panic and screams mixed together, your best friend took your hand and squeezed her. They were SO AFRAID of the height and just went with you, because you couldn’t stand to be in a itsy bitsy tiny room with Liz and probably Peter. And now, you would be guilty for their death. Perfect. Just perfect.

The elevator-lady tried to calm you down, she really tried, but the constantly creaking from the outside wires and the thought about that huge hole right above you were quiet a calming-murder.

You could hear the door from above you creak open, looks like you almost reached your goal. The emergency-exit, the hatchway in the fucking damaged ceiling opened with a squeak, A man helped you out. One after another, while Mr. Harrington helped from below, so the students could even reach that hatch.

“So, who’s next?”

Everyone looked around, till Flash pressed forward, still holding the freaking trophy.

“Me, it’s my turn!”

“Flash, don’t worry about that fucking trophy!”, someone shouted, but Flash wouldn’t be Flash if he would abandon his beloved golden sculpture. As soon as Flash was out there, the cap wiggled like never before. The boy gave the security his trophy first, while the elevator got looser with every single second.

“I don’t want to die here, holy shit”, you whined, holding the hand of your friend tightly.

Flash got out, and right after that, it happened.

The last sting of hope broke and the lift fell into the depth. With you, your best friend, Liz, Mr. Harrington and Ned. Everyone screamed, but after seemingly hours of falling, which turned out to be a fraction of a second, you stopped. As if someone pulled the emergency break in a train.

A little bit of hope came back, but it didn’t stay long enough to calm you down completely. The cap fell again, with such a loud sound, which just put you in MORE panic, but again…

The cap stopped, and in it was Spiderman. Head over, legs pressed again the tiny piece of ceiling that still worked and gave enough support. He looked around, cleared his throat and said, in a surprising deep and calming voice

“Hey, how you doing? Don’t worry about it. I got you”, his Queens accent showing through.

You sat on the floor, still holding the hand of your best friend. Your heartbeat echoed in your head, filling your own ears with it. Ned let his relief take over hand, just to be cut off from your hero in disguise. Spiderman pulled the whole cap, with five persons in it, to the upper door, where everyone got out. You could hear the creaking of metal again and knew it wasn’t a good sign.

And boy you were right.

As soon as you wanted to go to the exit, the metal gave in, Spiderman lost the support of the ceiling and you toughed you would fell again, but that wasn’t the case.

It was just the elevator cap that fell, you were tightly pressed against the Heroes chest, and arm wrapped around you.

You heard his heartbeat this time, and it was the most calming melody you ever heard. A little bit unsteady and rushed, because of the circumstances, but still calming. Tears filled your eyes, as the adrenaline evaporates, and the stress spread out.

“Don’t worry, (Y/N)”, his smooth voice called you, making you look in to the Eyes of his mask.

“I’ve got you and I’ll never let you fall again”, he whispered so quietly you barely understood it.

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[stories-and-sails]

Marmageddon: The Paranormal Romance No One Wanted (An Excerpt)

“I've tried to tell this story a thousand ways. When you get to my age…” “You're twenty-four.” “Ahem. When you get to my age, you realize that stories aren't as simple and straightforward as they seem.” “You're not my grandpa. Cut to the chase.”

It started when that marmot bit me. I mean, obviously that's how it started. He was underneath my truck when I—well, that part isn't important. It started when that marmot bit me, and the first full moon after that, I transformed into a marmot. I'll spare you the denial and disbelief. I mean, would you believe it if you woke up in the body of a rodent, lying in the middle of your front lawn in a pool of decapitated grasses, hands and face smeared with mud? I had become a monster. I had become the thing I feared most.

“You’re being extreme,” “You can't understand. You're not were.” “And you're not a were-wolf. You didn't bite anyone or maul any innocent villagers.” “Still. The shock. The horror. Like I said, I'll spare you the details about coming to terms with who I had become. It wasn't pretty. In time, I’ve come to accept myself. That I have appetites for things that normal men don't.” “Oh my gosh, Hunter. People eat vegetables all the time.” “Rabbit food. It's not natural.” “Are you going to tell the story, or are you going to keep being ridiculous?”

You have to understand that when you first become a were-marmot, the changes aren't voluntary. You can be in the middle of driving your truck, and hear a strange noise, and BAM, you've got your little marmot paws clinging onto the steering wheel and no way to reach the brakes. Or you'll be in the middle of scurrying into the burrow when suddenly you get this funny feeling in your gut and WHAM, you're raising the roof. Literally. That's a problem for people like us, of course. Lot of the new guys don't ever make it through the first few months.

It wasn't like I could just call into work for four months straight. And who was I supposed to tell? “Hey can you come check in on me at the house? Might turn into a marmot and not be able to reach the door handles.” No. This was the kind of thing I had to handle on my own. 

So there I was at work, standing out by the shed with the guys and waiting to see if the rain was going to let up or get worse, but then I saw this marmot running through the field. Every now and then he'd stand back on his haunches and wave his little paws in the air like he was trying to get our attention. Shoot. I knew right away it was Swiftpaw. They would have sent him to warn me, but only if there was a real problem. The guys were starting to notice that something weird was going on, and worse, Emma had decided he looked tasty. 

“Emma,” I said, leaning down next to her ears. “Calm down, girl. That's a friend, not a food.” But her eyes were fixed on him, and she was getting that crazy predator glint in them. Maybe I could have gotten her to calm down, only at that moment, I felt a weird twinge in my gut. Not a “shouldn't have eaten those pickled eggs” twinge. A transformation twinge. 

“Uh,” I grunted. “I gotta..” I started running for the corner of the building, hoping I'd get there before I shrunk enough to notice, especially since all the guys had turned around to watch me run, laughing and calling encouragement. For all they knew, I’d been making an awful lot of sprints to the bathroom lately. You're wondering about my clothes, right? When I told you that I kept transforming in the middle of daily activities, you wondered what happened to my clothes every time. This is what: I ran right out of my shoes first, and then collapsed, writhing as fur sprouted from every inch of my body and my teeth and snout elongated. When it was over, I was surrounded on all sides by denim. I've chewed my way out of more pairs of pants than most folks have. 

I managed to wiggle out of this pair without chewing and dragged them to a corner where I hoped they’d go unnoticed by the guys. I didn't want to answer the questions if they found every article of clothing I wore that day dropped on the floor of the shop. Again. 

After wrestling around with my clothes like that, I'd lost some time, so I scooted on out to see if Swiftpaw was still in the field.

I stood up on my hind legs and sniffed the air, sensing the many details that human noses just don't get. Not to put too fine a point on it, but there are a lot of different poop scents around a farm. A whole mosaic of them, really. But I didn't have long to stop and smell the, uh, roses. Emma had chased Swiftpaw to the top of a fencepost and was leaping around, barking her head off. Most of the guys were just standing there laughing. At least Hinkley was trying to call Emma off whenever he managed to catch his breath. 

This was going to call for a decoy run. 

Letting out a chittering whoop, I scurried down the hill. 

You notice how fast marmots are when you hunt them. I've noticed it before. They’re fast. They boogie. But you don't realize until you've been one of them how fast it feels to go flying over the ground, the long grass whipping against your cheek pouches, paws barely skimming the earth.

“Okay, you're not a thoroughbred racehorse, either.” “Well. No. But it feels really fast, okay?” “Sure. So you were sprinting majestically across the field.”

To rescue my friend from Man's Best Friend. Right.

Luckily, Emma seemed to think that a sprinting target was even more fun than a fixed one, and she ran after me, which gave Swiftpaw enough time to get down from the fencepost and make for the burrow. 

Unfortunately, Emma seemed to think the sprinting target was more fun than the fixed one, and within seconds she was hot on my heels. 

“No!” I shouted over my shoulder. “Emma! Bad dog. No chase. Go home.” I swear I saw a flicker of recognition in her eyes, even though I didn't speak with my human voice. It was almost like she knew who I was. Which would have been impressive if she hadn't watched me transform in front of her own eyes about fourteen times since I'd been infected.

“Emma!” I shouted. “It's me! I buy you dog food and let you sleep in my bed. Do not kill me.”

Her momentary confusion bought me enough time to scoot my butt into the burrow, and she couldn't follow. She sniffed and scratched around the entrance for a few moments, and several of the marmots in the little burrow turned to give me irritated looks.

“Sorry,” I offered. “She followed me home.”

Loosetooth's head popped into the room. “Hunter. You're here. We sent Swiftpaw to warn you of the danger.”

I grimaced. “Yeah. Maybe next time he should—you know, kind of sneak around the back instead of running up doing semaphore signals.”

She waved away my suggestion. “There's no time for subtlety now. Rumor has it the Marmoth has been spotted to the east.”

I chill ran through my fur, even though I didn't know what she was talking about. “The what?”

“The Marmoth” she repeated solemnly. I saw several of the nearby marmots pause to look at her, their eyes seeking confirmation. 

“It cannot be,” one of them said in a hushed whisper.

“We believe that it is true. That the Marmoth has returned,” she turned back to me, and I could see that her fur was standing on end and her eyes were huge in fear. “The Marmoth is like you and I. He once was human and now is marmot. But he is—really, really large.”

“Okay…”

“He never settled between human and marmot. Instead, he is caught between. A marmot the size of a man.”

“Okay…” I repeated. I was waiting for, something scary. Like, he was really big and could shoot snakes out his nose. Or, he was really big and had an army of snakes. Or, he was really big and—

“Well. Don't you see?”

I squinted. “Uh, no? You're saying he's the size of a human. But so am I, most of the time.”

She dismissed this too. “I should have known one of the new pups would not understand the danger we face from the Marmoth. But rest assured, those of us who remember know the danger. He destroyed more than one den when last he passed through.”

Murmurs of agreement spread around the group, and several of them were looking at me with expressions of disgust. 

“Okay, okay!” I held my paws up in front of my chest. “He's a big deal. We need to chase him off. Is that right?”

I'd made the mistake one time of saying that I could shoot something while I was in my human form, and the entire marmot community had shunned me for a week. It left me feeling strangely bereft. I'd put my gun in the back of the closet and replaced “shoot” in my vocabulary with “chase off.” Where it was appropriate, I mean. I wasn't about to go ask the guys if they wanted to chase off some pool. There was a lot of context involved with switching between forms like I did all the time. 

Anyway, the marmots looked at me like this was a really shocking suggestion. “You wouldn't say that if you'd met him. If you'd seen what he could do. What he has done.”

How scary could some oversized rodent be? I wasn't trying to downplay their fear, but I was pretty sure my colony could “chase him off” if need be. “You speak of what you do not know,” she intoned. “Go home. You will see the devastation there.”

That was enough to make me want to human back up, but I couldn't just flip the switch. Besides, I was still stuck in the middle of the burrow, and I needed to scoot on out of there before turning back into a human. 

“Great,” I said. “I'll see you there.”

I'll be honest. When I first turned, I didn't think I was going to get too involved in the inner workings of the marmot people. I mean, they were animals, and I was a human, so what could we possibly have in common? But it's a lonely thing, being a were-marmot. Even your own dog will turn against  you, and eventually you start turning to the company of those like you. Or like you in some way. Within the marmot colonies, there were a lot of folks that were pure marmot, never human. There were a number of were who, once they could actually control the shifting, chose to stay marmot most of the time. There were those of us who'd been made through an infected bite, and were-marmots that had been born because their parents were were. We didn't all have the same view on everything, but they understood better what I was dealing with than any of the full-time humans I knew. None of them had even heard of were-marmots. So even if my colony was a little extreme sometimes, and even if they did like to eat unspeakable things, I liked them. If this Marmoth was a danger to them, I couldn’t take it lightly.

“Were they right? When you got home, I mean, was it as devastating as they said it would be?” ... “Hunter? Hunter, are you okay? You're kind of spacing out.” “Oh. Oh, right. I was just remembering.”

[lokiandbuckyaremine]

Who Would Ever Think They Would Fall In Love? Epilogue (Series) (Bucky x Reader)

Characters: Reader, Bucky, and The Avengers

Summary: Steve brings you into the team of Avengers, and you couldn’t be more excited. The only problem is Bucky. He doesn’t seem to get along with you...that is until Steve assigns him as your trainer. Things take an amazing turn when you and Bucky are assigned on a mission.

Warnings: Language and PURE FLUFF

Author’s Note: I want to thank you all for reading my first series! I really appreciate the support and comments. Please continue to like, reblog, and comment! Make your voice heard! :) Hope you enjoyed it and feel free to request ideas to me. I’m open!!!!!                                                                                                                               

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5   Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  

Part 9  Part 10

You called Steve when you got back to the United States, letting him know that the mission was accomplished and you were on your way home. It was a quick call, as you were just getting off of your flight. Once you got your bags from Baggage Claim, you decided to call Steve again.

“Hello?”

“Hey Stevie, it’s y/n again. I didn’t have much time to talk to you cause I was getting off of the plane.”

“Oh oh, that’s ok. Everything good?”

“Yea, just tired that’s all. Everything good on the home front?”

He chuckled at your “old” lingo. “Yep. We just miss you guys that’s all.”

“Awe Steve, we miss you too. And we have a surprise for all of you!”

“Y/N! PLEASE TELL ME YOU ARE NOT PREGNANT!!!!!”

You laughed and Bucky gave you a questioning look. “No no Steve, not pregnant.” Bucky leaned over and whispered, “Yet.” Then he backed away and winked at you. 

You heard Steve sigh on the other side of the phone. “Oh thank God! Alright, you guys get home! See you soon, kid.”

You giggled again. “Bye Stevie!”

You put your phone back in your pocket and looked at Bucky. He smiled back at you. “C’mon doll. Let’s go home.” He picked up his bags, gave you a quick kiss, and started to walk.

You were so happy to be heading home.

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When you and Bucky walked into the common room at the Avengers Tower, you were greeted by the entire team of Avengers. 

“Welcome back!” Everyone shouted. You and Bucky were relieved to be in a room full of the people who loved you guys most. Natasha and Wanda were the first to hug you. You dropped everything and rushed to them. “My girls! I’m so happy to see you!” It was a group hug with you, Wanda, and Natasha.

You all pulled apart after a long embrace. Natasha spoke up. “Glad to see you are in one piece, bad ass. Whoa!” She caught a glimpse of something shiny on your finger. She pulled your hand closer to her eye and examined your engagement ring. She smirked up at you. “Um, when the hell was this a thing?”

You smiled and bit your lip. “Bucky! I think now would be a good time.” He walked over to you beaming. After he snaked his arm around waist, you turned around to everyone. “Guys there is something Bucky and I need to tell you.” Everyone gathered around you both eagerly.

Bucky squeezed your hand and winked at you. “WE’RE ENGAGED!” You both yelled. It was quiet for a quick moment, and then everyone cheered. Everyone rambled on saying, “I knew it” or “Took them long enough”. Tony walked over to Bucky and shook his hand, “So the Terminator finally found himself a girl. You did good soldier.” He shook Bucky’s hand and winked at you. 

Wanda and Natasha were giggly little girls. “I am SO happy for you, y/n. You and Bucky are going to be the next power couple.” Wanda exclaimed and hugged you. “I know, it felt like I was the only one in the tower who wasn’t in a relationship.” Natasha chuckled, “What do you mean?” You sighed. “Oh c’mon Nat. You had Bruce, Wanda had Vision, Steve had Sharon, Clint has his family, Tony had Pepper, and Thor had Jane. Me and Bucky were the loners.” She smiled up at you and winked. “Well, it was meant to be.” She hugged you one last time and went over to hang on Bruce. 

Steve walked over to you next. “Hey y/n. Can I talk to you privately?” You looked at Steve worried, “Yea, of course.” You and Steve walked out to the balcony and sat down on a bench. 

He began. “So, first of all...congrats! I’m so happy for you two!” You smiled and hugged him. “Thanks.” He then cleared his throat. “You know I have to do this, but I need you to give me a mission report. I know with all of the happy news and everything, it’s probably the last thing you want to talk about. But I need to know.” 

You sighed. “It’s ok, Steve, really. To start off, we got the files all safe and sound. When we go back inside, I can hand them to you.” He smiled and high-fived you. “I knew you could do it girl! So how did you manage to go to the party and get the files?” You chuckled lightly. “Allow me to explain. So Bucky and I were talking in the room one morning thinking of how we could get ourselves to the party. We had a lead on Dubois, like where he was last seen, so we were set for meeting up with him. Bucky came up with the idea of me seducing Dubois with my charming looks and riches. It got him a little flustered with Dubois hitting on me, but it got the job done. We were invited to the party and went. It was suspiciously easy. When we were there, Dubois brought me upstairs to his office. I thought we were gonna have a little action until he was pointing a gun at my face. Steve, he knew who I was right from the start. We fought back and forth. He explained everything to me. How he found out about me, how he watched me, AND how he set that whole thing up in Paris just to get me there.” 

Steve shook his head in disbelief. “That bastard.” You looked at Steve wide-eyed. “Whoa, language!” You hit him playfully in the side. Steve rolled his eyes, “Oh my god! Did Tony tell everyone about that?”

You shook your head and started laughing. He chuckled back. “So, what happened to him?” You looked down and fidgeted with your hands. “I killed him.” He looked at you with his mouth opened. “You WHAT?!” You looked up at Steve apologetically. “Steve, I had to. He just kept rambling on and on about my father, and he hit a sensitive spot. So I shot him! Why the hell should I let him live after what he did to me and what he was going to do to you guys?! You are all my family, I couldn’t risk him pulling another stunt.” You looked down again, unable to look Steve straight in the eye.

Steve placed a hand on your shoulder and squeezed it. “You did good kid. That was brave of you. I appreciate you caring so much for us and staying true to your gut. I wish we would’ve had more guys in the army with your personality.” He laughed and you giggled with him. You looked up at him again. “I also burned my file.” He placed his hand on yours reassuringly. “It was the right thing to do. Now your identity is safe.” You smiled. “Yea, I guess so.”

“Bucky is so lucky to have you y/n, really. You saved him from the darkness and gave him new hope.” He smiled at you, and you could feel the blush rising on your cheeks. “Thanks Cap.”  

You heard the balcony door open, and saw Bucky standing there. “I hate to interrupt this gossip session, but can I steal my girl back?” He grinned wide at you. You smiled at Steve. “God dammit Buck, we were just getting to the juicy part!” You laughed, along with Steve. “Sorry Doll, but I need you.” You gave one last look at Steve before getting up. “I suppose I can pause our session. We’ll pick up later Cap.” Steve winked at you and laughed. 

You linked your arm with Bucky and went inside. You and Bucky unpacked your stuff and plopped down on your bed. He moved in to your room, as you were both going to be married soon. 

You both laid, wrapped in one another’s arm. “Buck?” He hummed in response. “Thank you for everything.” You nuzzled your head on his bare chest as a sign of appreciation. He rubbed his hand down your spine, sending shivers through your body. Not cold shivers, but sensational shivers. “What did I do?” He giggled. You lifted your head and looked at him. “Are you kidding me? You saved my ass in Paris. Do you realize that if you didn’t come in at that moment, I would’ve been dead?” He laughed and brought your head to his. 

“Anything for you Doll.” He placed a sweet kiss on your nose, before leaving a trail of kisses along your jawline and then further down on your neck. You hummed in response. He then placed a hand on your bare hip and tugged at it. You got the message and straddled him. You looked at him and gazed into his blue eyes. “Love you, sergeant.” He winked. “Love you, bad ass.” You kissed him slowly, and then he picked up the speed. Your lips moved in a fast rhythm, leaving a night full of surprises.

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

You and Bucky got married 6 months later. Steve was Best man. Nat was Maid of honor. Bridesmaids were Wanda and Sharon. Groomsmen were Sam and Clint. It was a simple wedding, but an amazing night.

You and Bucky went on a honeymoon immediately after the wedding, but not to Paris. Instead you both went to California and spent time in the mountains. After the honeymoon, you and Bucky found a small house an hour away from The Avengers Tower. You were both taking a break from missions, as you wanted to enjoy one another’s company. It was a little ranch house with 2 acres of land surrounding it. You and Bucky just wanted peace for a little while. You still went to the tower from time to time to hang out with the gang.

One winter night you were sitting on the couch with your husband, enjoying the fireplace Bucky had put together.

You crawled closer to Bucky, taking in all of the heat that was radiating off of his body. “Babe?” He hummed in response. “Can you believe that 2 years ago, I walked into Avengers Tower?” He laughed and rubbed small circles on your back. “Yep. And can you also believe that we hated each other then?” You punched his side lightly. “That’s because I walked in on you accidentally, while you were naked.” He chuckled. “Well now, you and I are used to each other being naked. Am I right?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you seductively.

You giggled as he began to tickle your sides. “Stop Bucky. I’m going to pee myself!” He stopped and started kissing you ALL over the place. You moaned over and over as he found your sweet spots. He slid his hands under your tank top massaged his thumbs on your hip bones. You ripped his shirt off completely and began to feel his chest and abs. “You know, you are going to kill me with those abs of yours.”

He looked down at his well-defined abs and flexed. “Am I?” He started to do different muscle poses to tease you. You giggled and pushed him back down on the couch. You crawled into his lap and rested your head on his bare chest. You drew little patterns on his chest and place a kiss on his collarbone. He shuffled on the couch. “You know, it’s not fair that I am the only one shirtless.” You giggled as he started to play with the bottom of your tank top. Despite it being winter, you wore a tank top because your husband’s body heat was enough to keep the whole house warm.

You giggled as you attempted to push his hands away. He took this as a sign to try harder. You squealed as he lifted your tank top and starting kissing your belly. Then you felt a sharp pain in your lower abdomen and winced. Bucky immediately drew back. “Doll, did I hurt you?” You shook your head no and clutched your stomach. “No I’m ok, honey.” You sighed. “Buck, there is something I need to tell you. But first I need to go grab something.” You left the room leaving a very confused Bucky sitting on the couch.

You returned with a medium-sized box in your hands. You handed the box to Bucky, and he took it with precaution. “I was going to wait ‘til Christmas to give this to you, but with everything I’m going through, it’s hard to keep it a secret.” He looked up at you with an eyebrow raised. “What?” You giggled. “Just open the box Buck.” 

He tore the box open slowly to reveal a picture frame. Inside the picture frame was an ultrasound of the baby growing inside of you. On top of the picture read the words “Congratulations Daddy!”. You looked up at Bucky to see his reaction. His mouth was open wide and he began to tear up. He looked over at you with tears streaming down his cheeks. “You mean, this right here is growing inside of you now?” You giggled and nodded your head. He looked back at the picture frame. “I’m going to be a daddy?!”

You took the picture frame out of his hands and crawled into his lap again. You kissed him passionately. He caressed your head to deepen the kiss. You pulled apart slowly, allowing the moment to last. “Congratulations Bucky, you’re going to be a daddy.” He smiled widely and hugged you tightly. “Oh doll, I’m so happy! How long are you in?”

You rubbed your stomach. “About a month. Nothing really showing yet. Just some pains here and there. You know what this means, right?” He shook his head, “No...” You giggled and twirled your fingers in his hair. “No monkey business, babe, for another 8 months.” He laughed and pressed a kiss on your forehead. “I can deal with that. I just can’t believe I’m gonna be a father.” He rubbed in his in disbelief. “Yes, baby, yes you are.” You pressed a kiss on his lips before cuddling back into him. 

You and Bucky were ready to start a new chapter in your lives not only as Mr. and Mrs. Barnes, but now as Mommy and Daddy. :)

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Got carried away with the gifs there, LOL! There it is! The ending to my series. Hope you ALL enjoyed it. Leave feedback!

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[saturnmyg]

GANGSTA CHAPTER ONE

Min yoongi x Mafia!reader

warnings :  violence, drug abuse, cussing

Genre: angst, fluff, romance, drama

word count: 2,992

summary: Min yoongi aka Agust D an underground rapper on the come up , finds y/n outside of a club hurt and on the verge on passing out, little did he know saving her would turn his world upside down

AN: hey guys sorry for the late update, things have been hectic lately. anyways this isn't proof read yet but it shouldn't be all too bad.-sora

Another Author note & update: i changed the whole pov back to third one cause i felt that it would suit the story the most so hope yall dont mind

@josh-the-smol-bean-dun as always ill tag you in this!

character profile

Intro 

Chapter one 

Yoongi took out a cigaret and lit it up. he sighed ,lately he hasn't been feeling his performances. he knew they were good but not that good, there was something missing and he couldn't pin point  it. He lost his inspiration, everything seemed almost mundane, sure he could rap about money, sex and drugs but which artist didn't rap about that. He wanted that his song inspire the listener, that it resonates with them on a deeper level .

He thought about writing love songs but every time he tried to he kept remembering his ex who was the personification of the devil and what she did to him and he'd rather not think about that. ‘’Business again?’’ He heard the security guard asking someone . ‘’As usual’’ came a monotone voice that belong to a girl.

The Security guard moved aside and open the door ,he then saw as they passed by him that it was two people. First a tall black beauty with a beanie followed by a girl of medium height with a low pony tail. As she walked she turned her head and their eyes met. Her stare was piercing, as if she could see into his soul , however they held no emotion it it.

He smirked at her and blew out the smoke. In response to that the nameless girl lifted up one eyebrow, as if to ask him if he seriously thought that would get her to come to him. And then rolled her eyes.  Before he could even say or do something, the girl and her friend already disappeared inside while the door closed behind her.

The Club was packed, hot bodies grinding at each other , drunk people laughing, some even trying to start a fight. Y/n crinkled her nose, the alcohol stench mixed with sweat was definitively not on her list of favorite things. Rukiya who was standing in front of her turned around, took her hand and and started to walk where Akiho was standing, which was hard as they had to squeeze themselfs between people to get to their destination.  

As they arrived there Y/n sat down on the bar stools while Rukiya decided to stand. ‘’Four Tequila orange shots please’’ The tall beauty screamed over the music to the blonde girl . She nodded and immediately started to pour out the shots.  

‘’They're supposed to be here at 9.30pm-’’ Akiho said as she lined up the beverages. Meanwhile Rukiya leaned closer to her so that she could understand the short girl ‘’Apparently something happened with the boss and they had to delay it a bit.’’

 Rukiya raised her eyebrows ‘’Well i don't care if they got stabbed or anything, it will make this night better if they're not at a good condition’’ she said and handed Y/n ,who was scanning the club looking for any signs of Gang member from other groups , the glass.

‘’Anyone catching your eye?’’ came Rukiyas voice right next to her ear. ‘’Nah i wasn't even looking for that.’’ She replied and rolled her eyes . ‘’C'mon boss let loose we're at a club!’’ The dark skinned girl exclaimed , Y/n looked at her, the strobing lights accentuating her features making her look otherworldly, yet slightly bizarre, and sighed. ‘’Aight lets get this party started’’ Rukiya cheered and held up the shot

‘’To hoping this meeting will not turn into a blood bath’’ She said and clinked the shot glass together. ‘’Damn did you need to ruin this moment with that negative shit? ain't no one wanna think about 'em right now’’ Rukiya grimaced.

‘’Aight hoe, to us and the gang may we stay together for a long time’’ She retorted and Rukiya grinned. They both threw back the shots and bit into the orange slice that the Akiho had provided earlier. The shot burned in Y/n’s throat which led up to her scrunching up her face while Rukiya threw her head back and laughed.

‘’I'm going to look for this guy i saw that has black hair and crazy ass dance moves’’ The tall girl shouted over the music and disappeared in the crow, Y/n nodded and waved with one hand and pulled out her phone.

Y/n: Status report

Hyun-jin: hacked into their security camera and from what I've seen and heard he's going to keep his word, i wouldn't go 100% on that though, something in my gut is saying that they're going to ambush you guys, be careful.

Y/n: Alright good, ill contact you later.

Hyun-jin: K                                                

Suddenly the music went off, while all the light was focused on the stage that was in the front of the club.

‘’Hey Hey Hey! i see you guys having a great time but the rap battle is about to begin, as ya'll already know all types of rappers are here tonight some that are even famous so you know its going down in this bitch.’’ Said the Mc ,a bald guy who was wearing a white tank top that showed off the tattoos on his chest and arms. He continued to introduce some guy that you have never heard of.

The crowd responded by giving semi- cheering as the Artist came up to the stage.

Loud bass filled the club and he started to rap, it was okay thought Y/n but judging from how the crowd was responding she clearly weren't the only one with that opinion. ‘’Not bad not bad!’’ said the Mc after the nameless rapper finished.

‘’Not bad ? that shit was whack’’ came Akiho's voice who was still behind the counter. ‘’Even Hyun-jin could spit better than that and what the hell was going on with his hairline?-’’ She continued as Y/n nodded and proceeded to take a sip of the drink that Akiho had provided earlier. ‘’It's so far back it probably  shook hands with Jesus’’ Y/n snorted almost spitting out the drink, turned around and playfully glared at the blonde girl. ‘’you tryna kill me?’’

‘’oh hush you would've been dead by now if i wanted to’’ she waved her off, which was a bold faced lie and they both knew that. ‘’Where's Rukiya though? they will be here in five minutes and her ass still ain't here yet’’ Y/n coughed. ‘’Right here beside you, its time you grow eyes on the side of your head’’

She heard the velvety voice that belonged to the tall beauty. Y/n turned around and there she was, standing in all her glory while next to her was a black haired boy.  She looked at him, then back to Rukiya and raised an eyebrow. ‘’This is the dude i was telling you, you know the one with the dance moves’’. ‘’Ah yes i remember’’ She answered and took another sip  

‘’I'm Jung Hoseok nice to meet you guys’’ He said and smiled brightly. He was cute Y/n would give him that, but she had a feeling there was more to the sunny demeanor that he'd let other's see. They all exchanged pleasantries until Akiho nudgedY/n showing her the time.

Her eyes widened and she turned around ‘’anyways Hoseok right? nice meeting ya but its time for us to disappear’’ Y/n said. His face fell and he nodded ‘’Don't worry lover boy give her your number and shell text you all day, literally.’’ She deadpanned while Rukiya shrugged her shoulder. ‘’cant blame me i love texting’’ ‘’more like sexting but thats for another topic’’. He laughed at the banter between the two girls and pushed his hair out of his face.

‘’I cant be with you guys i'm the only one on this shift tonight’’ Akiho sighed while shaking the cocktail mixer. Y/n waved her off ‘’Nah no problem we can handle this tonight but i'll have you on speed dial if something is’’ ‘’Alright see you and be safe’’ Akiho replied pouring the drink into the glass.

‘’Will do, c'mon Rukiya lets go’’ She threw over her shoulder.  The tall girl typed her number into his phone and then whispered something into Hoseok's ear ,which he replied with nodding and then continued to kiss him on the cheek leaving him flustered with a slight smirk on his face.

Y/n  laughed ‘’You totally have him hooked’’ ‘’I hope so , he's so fine bro like i touched his stomach and  holy fuck was it hard he probably got abs . It's like god came down and took his sweet time sculpting him’’ Rukiya sighed dreamily ‘’I wanted to propose on spot bitch he got it all , personality, body etc,  no joke i would no fuck that, i  WILL spread my legs like peanut butter for him’’the shorter girl grinned at that ‘’spreading them cheeks from Georgia to Florida huh’’ ‘’aside from the fact that we're in South Korea and not America , yes’’ Rukiya smirked.  During the whole talk they walked to the back side of the Club where an hallway was that led to the Rooms that one could rent.

‘’Alright they're supposed to be behind this door, Hyun-jin hacked into the security camera's here so she'll watch us from time to time’’ whispered Y/n ‘’I swear if we get killed tonight I'm coming back to haunt her sorry ass’’ Rukiya mumbled and secured the halter on her left thigh. ‘’Seconded'' she replied and took a deep breath and opened the door.

Another successful performance for Yoongi, the crowd loved him and he was pretty sure that he'd win the rap battle tonight. He took the towel and the bottle of water that the staff member handed him and wiped his face. ‘’Yo yo yo suga my man you really tore it down tonight’’ said Jihoo, the mc from earlier, and wrapped an arm around yoongi. ‘’It was given’’ came his reply a faint smile on his lips.

‘’True man true’’ the guy laughed and messed up the rappers hair. ‘’How long are you going to stay bald tho you already look like a yakuza with them dragon and snake tattoos’’ Yoongi asked. Jihoo wiggled his eyebrows ‘’you don't know that i used to be in a gang?’’ Yoongi deadpanned, he's known Jihoo for almost ten years now and from what he'd experienced and seen from him he wouldn't survive one day with the mafia. '

‘’Remember how you called me at three o'clock in the morning cause of that spider in your bathroom?’’ ‘’That spider was huge Yoongi do you hear me? h u g e’’  The mint haired boy sighed and peeled off Jihoo's arm that was still around his shoulder ‘’Stop being so dramatic it wasn't you're just a wuss’’ ‘’Im not’’ came back as ‘’whatever you say’’ said Yoongi and waved as he made his way out from backstage.

He walked over to the bar and sat down. He first looked at her face and then the name tag. ‘’Akiho? give me whiskey on the rocks’’ ‘’Coming right up’’ she replied and went right to work. A few minutes later she put down the drink in front of  him ‘’here you go’’ ‘’Thanks’’ he replied and took a sip. The liquor burned his throat giving him pleasantly warm feeling. ‘’He sighed  ‘’having a rough day?’’ she asked her expression indifferent ‘’More like a rough year’’ she hummed at that ‘’aren't we all?’’  ‘’I guess so’’ he answered and shrug his shoulders. ‘’Well at least you're not suffering alone’’ she said and continued to dry the glasses.

Yoongi threw back the remaining's of the drink, put 20 bucks on the bar-table and hopped off the stool ‘’Keep the change’’ he said over his shoulder, not waiting for her reply as he made his way outside. He opened the door that led to the backside of the club where no one was. He wasn't really in the mood to be with someone. The loud music mixed with the stench of the club gave him a slight headache. He took out a cigarette lit it and inhaled deeply and stared at the night sky.

A groan ripped him out of his thoughts , he looked around and didn't find anyone. ‘’did i just imagine that’’ he thought weary . Only a few seconds later he heard the same noise again but this time he could distinguish from where it came from. He put his hand on the wall and walked slowly to where the garbage was and saw a person or thats what he thought it was, leaning against the trash bags. The lamps on the wall weren't working making it hard for him to distinguish who or what was there

‘’Fucking hell where's my phone’’ He muttered and checked his leather jacket. A few seconds later he found it and turned on the flashlight app. He was surprised, the object turned out to be the girl he saw earlier on the front side of the club. Bruises tattered her face , neck and he presumed they were everywhere. ‘’Fuck what i'm i supposed to do now.’’ He muttered and ran his hand through his hair. As he picked her up he noticed that on one side the fabric of her sweater was wet and kinda sticky. He lifted it up and saw an open wound.

Fuck fuck fuck he panicked , let down the material and put her arms around his neck and hold her legs so he could give her a piggy back ride to his car. Once he arrived at the parking lot, forgetting about the winner announcement , he put her into the passengers seat and put the seatbelt on. Now that the car light was on he could look at her  properly.  She had sharp features that at the same time seemed soft. Long eyelashes and plump lips. She was beautiful but to put it short she looked like a hot mess.

Moving slightly she groaned out in pain. He panicked he didn't know if he should bring her to the hospital or to his apartment and stitch/bandage her himself up. The wound didn't look that deep so it couldn't be that bad right? Yoongi started up the car and drove home. 

He put on relaxing music and hummed slightly to calm himself down. Where had she come from? why was she beaten up to the point of unconsciousness, where was her friend that she came with? All these questions ran through his head but there were no definite answers, yet.

He finally arrived home , this time carrying her bridal style up the stair which was a bad decision as he now couldn't reach for his keys in jacket. He sighed, put her down and quickly opened the door to his apartment. Putting her on his couch and went straight to the kitchen, took  out the first aid kit and returned. ‘’She better don't kill me for this’’ he thought and started to pull off her sweater leaving  the nameless girl in her bra. He took out the antibacterial liquid and cotton and started to clean her wound.

From time to time she would move and groan and swat as his hand away when the pain got too much. After some time cleaning it he took out a cream and bandages and carefully bandaged her up, He decided not to stitch the girl up since he had no experience in it or whatsoever.

 Fifteen minutes later he was finished, stood up and sighed. Yoongi picked her up again and walked into his room and put her on his bed. Taking a shirt, he contemplated if he should give her a pair of sweatpants but he thought that he'd be pushing it so he decided not to.

He pulled the fresh shirt over her head, covered her with the blanket and went to the kitchen to get glass of water. He returned , placed it on the nightstand and also left some painkillers beside it. The mint haired boy took out another blanket and his pajamas and walked back into the living room. He quickly changed into the comfortable clothes, brushed his teeth and washed his face and laid down on the couch. It wasn't even five minutes before he was knocked out.

Y/n opened her eyes. Well she tried to but couldn't as one eye was swollen. The pounding coming straight back as the light hit her full force. Groaning she lifted her head and saw that on the nightstand water and a pill  she assumed to be painkillers. She reached over took the water and drowned the pill quickly. Thats when she noticed that she was in a unfamiliar room. The walls were painted white, littered with decorations , pictures and papers. Next to her was a huge kumamon plush bear ‘’ Where the hell am i’ She asked herf and jumped out of bed.

‘’Bad decision’’Y/n  muttered as she had almost collapsed from the pain on her ribcage ‘’fuck what did that fucker yesterday do’’ She continued and slowly walked down the hallway into the living room. She looked around, the living room was decorated similarly to his bedroom, just that there was also was a couch, tv and a dinning table. Speaking of couch thats where she saw the mop of unruly mint hair that belonged to the boy from yesterday night. The rest of his body was hidden underneath the blanket. It was a miracle that he hasn't choked to death yet from not breathing fresh air.

Y/n slowly walked over and shook him. With no avail ‘’wake up’’ She shook him again. He grunted and turned the other way. She sighed deeply still clutching her side and tried to rip of the blanket as best as you could with one hand. ‘’Dude wake the fuck up’’ She said , still not answer it was like he was dead.

 Finally after a decade she ripped the blanket of and shook him hard it wouldn't surprise her if he got a concussion from it . ‘’The hell?!’’ he grunted and quickly sat up and looking around.  Y/n lifted her eyebrow when his eyes landed and her

‘’Where the fuck am i and what the hell am i doing in your home?’’

hey hope you like this part!!, again id love to hear your criticism and opinions on this chapter!  

[bookhoardingdragon]

That’s the Fey’s Problem - Ch 19

Marked

Corn tried not to wiggle with excitement but Boaz was spending so long just staring at her without speaking that it was very very hard.

She was definitely not succeeding. An excited shiver ran down her spine and caused her arms and legs to tremble.

It was Saturday, the morning after girl’s night, and she’d met Boaz for breakfast. He had an off campus performance for one of his classes today and she’d wanted to see him before he left. Too excited to wait until he got back to show off her new look.

After the salon they’d gone shopping and Corn had outfitted herself with a few new things that she felt matched the look she’d been going for with her hair. So this morning she was wearing dark wash skinny jeans, tucked into a pair of laced up black boots. Her white button down was tucked into her pants and the sleeves rolled up to just below her elbows and she wore a fitted black vest over it. She thought the cut of the vest rather nicely accented her figure and she propped her hands on her hips to show herself to full advantage.

But Boaz’s eyes were mostly focused on her hair. It was cut off in a short bob, the back stacked neatly and the nape of her neck shaved. There was an undercut on the left side too, but she’d left her hair down this morning, covering it. Bright electric blue painted an even one inch swath around the bottom that faded at the back.

Personally Corn thought she looked rather incredible and roguish, but her confidence was fading a tad with every second that passed in silence. Not that she needed Boaz’s approval to feel good about herself, she’d just expected him to like it.

Corn pursed her mouth and tipped her head to the side. “Can we at least go inside so I can eat while you attempt to recover your tongue.”

Boaz gave himself a little shake. “You look good.”

“I think I look heckin adorable, but it’s good of you to say that.” Corn breezed past him and headed for the dinning hall. “Come on then.” She didn’t look back at him, but she heard him come trotting after her and smiled to herself.

“Is there a reason you look so different this morning?”

“I went out with the girls last night and we went to the salon, and I just thought, why not?! I’ve never had the opportunity to do something like this before and it seemed terribly fun.”

“Do you like it?”

“I love it!” Corn ran a hand through her hair, flicking the ends out.

“Good.” She could hear the smile in Boaz’s voice and she looked up at him, grinning happily.

Corn was feeling more relaxed now that Boaz had finally said something and breakfast was fun, but she couldn’t help noticing that he was slightly distracted the entire time. Probably because of his performance later.

After breakfast Corn walked him to where he was meeting with some others from his class. She waited with him until it was time to go and then she waved him off with a wish of good luck.

Corn sighed when he was gone. She had an entire day to spend and a killer outfit—it seemed a shame to go back to her room right away. Instead she set off, wandering around campus. Eventually she found herself walking along the edge of campus next to the forest and with a grin she ducked into the trees.

She had no instrument today but Corn walked along humming and whistling to herself, enjoying the feel of the sun on her skin. Corn was enjoying the solitude but thinking she should have brought some offerings to leave when she heard a voice.

“You’re a long way from home.”

Corn turned to see Rulo standing in the trees behind her, his eyes watching her with far too much intensity. “Not so very far.” Corn lifted her chin, giving him a hard look.

Rulo smirked and strolled closer. “We’re closer to my home here than yours.”

“You live in the forest? I would have thought you had a fancy house Elsewhere. But this does rather suit you.” Corn made a mental apology to the forest for insulting it in such a way, but she was pleased by the flash of anger that passed over Rulo’s face.

“My home is Elsewhere, but there are some places where the fabric between wears thin.” Rulo stepped closer still, a snarl on his face.

“Is that why you all are here on campus? Because Elsewhere is closer here?” Corn found this prospect interesting but Rulo seemed unamused by her interest.

“Since you are here, perhaps we should play a game.”

“I have no interest in playing your games, Rulo.”

Rulo narrowed his eyes at her, something dark stealing over his expression. “You do not have much of a choice. You are here now, and I can stop you from leaving until I have what I want from you.”

“No you can’t.” Corn gave him an arch look. There was something frightening about Rulo. Something openly dangerous and reckless. He was not one of the lesser Fey but she had a feeling his social standing amongst the others was very low. He had nothing to lose. But Corn had the protection of the Prince. Not even Rulo would cross him. Surely.

“Can’t I?” Rulo lifted one brow, giving her a brazen look. “You belong to us now, I can do whatever I want.”

“I don’t belong to all of you.” Corn scrunched up her face in annoyance at the insinuation. It sounded too vulgar. “I belong to… to Marreth and Sylvia.” Corn wasn’t sure what stopped her from naming the Prince. She had been about to.

“Oh is that what you think?” Rulo smirked at her.

“That’s what they told me.”

“And you think they told you the truth?” Rulo laughed now. A cruel, condescending sound.

Oh stars she hoped they had. Please by Queen Astra’s throne let them have been telling the truth. “Fey can’t lie!” Corn gave him a triumphant look, refusing to let him know how much he was frightening her.

Rulo smiled viciously. “No. But that doesn’t mean they told you the whole truth.”

Corn had a sinking feeling in her gut. He had to be bluffing. He was trying to trick her into doing what he wanted because he couldn’t command her. No doubt this irked him. She shrugged at him, acting nonchalant.

“Are you willing to bet your life on it?”

Bet her life? That sounded a bit serious.

Corn had an idea. It was a terrible idea, but so were most—well, all really—of her ideas and so far everything seemed to have worked out alright. “Yes I am! Let’s play a game Rulo.”

Rulo arched a brow, looking intrigued by her sudden enthusiasm.

“I get to ask you three questions, and you have to answer with the truth. The whole truth. If I can figure out the exact terms of my belonging to Sylvia and Marreth by the end of my three questions I win and you have to leave me alone. But if I can’t, then you win.”

“Fascinating.” Rulo stepped closer again. He was standing far too close for comfort now but Corn didn’t dare back away. “And what do I get if I win?”

“What do you want?” It was a dangerous question she knew, but she knew he would laugh at anything she offered.

“I want.” Rulo lifted a hand and fiddled with the blue ends of her hair. “You to obey me.”

Corn lifted an eyebrow, considering this. She didn’t like the idea. Didn’t like it at all. But wasn’t really sure she could refuse him. “For how long?”

Rulo smirked. “A month.”

Well that could have been worse. “Fine. Do you accept then?”

“It’s a deal, darling.” Rulo held out his hand eagerly and Corn felt herself second guessing her plan. It wasn’t too late to back out but she didn’t know what else to do. So she reached out to shake Rulo’s hand.

Just as her fingers brushed against him an arm dropped over her shoulders, easing her back from Rulo. “I’ve been looking for you.” A voice a purred in her ear. “How kind of you to find her for me.”

Rulo pulled his hand back, his lip curling up in a snarl. “This is no business of yours. Leave us be.”

“Oh but it is my business, and I think you will be the one leaving now.”

Corn looked up at the prince, her heart pounding. He was different than she was used to. Brash sounding where he was usually hesitant. And he tucked her against his side, smirking at Rulo in a manner she hadn’t witnessed before.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Rulo’s skin was losing its color, turning gray as his teeth grew sharp. “Forgive me Your Highness, but we were about to make a deal, and I am well within my rights to do so.” Rulo reached out and took Corn by the wrist, attempting to pull her away from the prince.

The prince laughed. A mirthless, dangerous sound that made Corn’s skin prickle and the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. “I know. You were about to make a deal with my human. A deal that would give you power over her.” The prince’s arm snaked out and latched onto Rulo’s with a vice like grip. “I don’t like it when people try to steal my things.”

Rulo’s face turned white and absolute fear filled his eyes. “I—I didn’t know. I swear. I didn’t know she was yours. I would never—”

The prince laughed again. “Wouldn’t you though?” He crooned the words as he lifted his arm from Corn’s shoulders and stepped forward, driving Rulo back.

Rulo whimpered and crumpled as though in pain. “I swear! I didn’t know!” He sounded desperate.

“And who’s fault is that.” The prince lifted his free hand, his fingers poised to snap.

“PLEASE!” Rulo turned to Corn, pleading. “Tell him I didn’t know!”

“YOU DARE?” The prince roared with anger and threw Rulo to the ground.

The prince did something then, Corn couldn’t see what and Rulo vanished, his scream echoing through the trees.

The prince whirled around and stepped back to Corn, his hand latching around her wrist and pulling him up against her, his other hand closing around her back. In a flash they were back in his house and he was releasing her, pacing away. A glass appearing in his hand.

“Thank you.” Corn whispered the words. She didn’t entirely mean them, but he was incredibly agitated and she wanted to appease him.

“Thank you?” The prince whirled around and took a long drink, his glass refilling as soon as he lowered it. “You would thank me? When all this is my fault?” He stalked past her, power radiating off him, his suit seeming to strain against his form as though he might suddenly burst and become something else entirely.

“I did go walking in the forest on my own.” Corn tried to imbue her voice with its usual bravado, hating how weak she sounded. This was the prince, he’d been so careful with her before, surely she could trust him. Couldn’t she?

“You belong to me. Such things should be safe for you to do.” The prince stopped walking and drained his glass again. “But I have been a fool.”

Corn just stared at him a moment, unsure how to handle this situation. “I’m hard to predict. You couldn’t know that I would get myself into this situation.

The prince turned his head to look at her over his shoulder, his eyes flaring brighter as they landed on her. He turned in one smooth motion and stalked toward her, seeming suddenly more like a predator than his handsome deer head implied.

Corn held her ground and when he reached her his hand grabbed her arm, jerking her toward him so she crashed against his chest. His hand was like iron on her arm.

“This isn’t about you.” He hissed the words—low and angry—into her ear, his grip tightening with every syllable he spoke until she was sure there would be a bruise on her arm.

“You’re hurting me.” Her voice sounded weak and plaintive. She hated it. Hated how powerless she suddenly felt.

He snorted angrily and threw her away from him, continuing to pace across the floor. Corn fell back against a table, a small gasp escaping from her before she clamped a hand over her mouth. Her other hand gripped the edge of the table until her knuckles turned white.

She would not be afraid. She would not cower for him. Would not let him see how distraught she was.

Gritting her teeth she steeled her voice. “Then what is it about?”

“It is about me!” He slammed his hand down onto a similar table to the one Corn leaned against and the wood splintered as it fell to the floor with a loud crack.

Corn flinched, her heart pounding in her throat and dread filling her stomach.

“It is about me.” He turned his head to look at her and then he was stalking across the floor toward her again, his steps slower and more frightening this time.

She held her ground against the table, refusing to give an inch. She would not be afraid.

Her legs trembled as he loomed over her, lifting a hand to her face. Corn flinched back but he didn’t seem to notice as he carefully cupped her cheek. “It is about me, and my impotence as a prince. My lack of cruelty and my subsequent lack of control.” His caress turned into a grip, his thumb digging into her cheek while his other fingers marked her jaw. “And you my dear are poised to be the catalyst of my undoing.” He tipped her head back at an unnatural angle as he stared into her face.

Corn swallowed, struggling to force down her fear as he lifted his glass and took another drink. “I don’t understand.” She forced the words out but her voice trembled.

His grip tightened and he leaned in until she felt the feather light kiss of his nose against her cheek.  “You are mine. You belong to me. There is nothing and no one to stop me from doing anything I might wish to do to you, or with you, or make you do. And yet I have done nothing. Why is that? Why—” he straightened up, pulling her with him and forcing her to rise up onto her toes—“do I not act, when to do so is in my power?” He released her, letting her fall back against the table again and turned away. “It would be easy. And I have thought about it. But I do nothing. The more I do nothing the more they wonder where else I will fail to act.” He lifted his glass and took another drink.

Corn was afraid as she stared at his back. Terrified. There was no use denying it. Everything in her was screaming at her to get out. To get away. “It wasn’t like that. Rulo—”

“Damn you!” He shouted, making her jump, and threw his glass against the wall where it shattered in a spray of crystal shards and liquor.

Corn scrambled away from the table, attempting to get away but he was already coming for her.

“Of course it was like that! Or did you think yourself so special that it was about you? Did you think you alone were enough to tempt him to so dangerous a path? Are you really so stupid and ignorant.” He sneered at her with disgust. “I had thought better of you.” He backed her against a wall. “Thought better of the girl who so cleverly managed to hide her name.” He loomed over her and there was nothing friendly or kind in his expression. “But I will make sure it never happens again.” He grabbed her wrists, jerking them up hard enough to make her cry out. “I will make sure everyone knows who you are and what will happen if they attempt anything.” His palms began to burn against her skin and Corn tried to pull her hands free.

“Nothing happened! I’m fine. Everything is fine. Please stop!”

“This time.” His voice was deathly calm and unforgiving. Dark power began to rise out his skin like smoke and swirl around her wrists.

“What are you doing?”

“Marking you, so that everyone who sees you will know.” The swirling power condensed into thin, needle tipped lines that dove between his skin and hers.

Corn’s knees buckled and she cried out in pain as burning needles embedded themselves in her flesh. But the prince was unmoved, his grip on her did not slacken, even as it became the only thing holding her upright.  “Please.” She was begging him, not caring how pathetic she sounded. “Please stop. You’re hurting me!” She was crying now, and she jerked and writhed in his grip desperate to get away but nothing she did made any difference.

Tears of fear and pain slid down her cheeks as she begged him to stop. He showed no reaction as he loomed over her, his eyes unblinking as they glowed brightly, staring down at her. When he finally released her and she fell to the floor black bands like tattoos circled  her wrists. Two thick lines on each, an inch apart, with an intricate latticework of thinner lines filling the gap between them.

Corn stared down at the marks. Horrified by what he’d done. By everything he’d implied. By the pain he’d inflicted on her. Her wrists still stung and ached from it.

The prince blinked, seeming to come back to himself. “Corn.” His voice was normal now. Softer and almost hesitant—just like she was used to. “Corn I’m sorry—”

Corn leapt to her feet and pushed past him and he made no move to stop her. Running out of the room, she fled down the hall and down the stairs when she found them. She heard him calling after her but didn’t slow. “Sylvia!”

Sylvia appeared in front of her in a flash, looking at first pleased and then alarmed as she took in Corn’s appearance and their location.

“Corn!” His voice echoed down the stairs and she could hear his footsteps.

“Get me out of here!” Corn threw herself at Sylvia, clinging to her jacket. “Please!”

Sylvia looked down at Corn’s hands, at the marks on her wrists and her expression changed. Sylvia put an arm around her and they were gone in another flash. Standing in Corn’s dorm room instead.

Sil leapt up from her chair, wings flaring out in alarm. “Corn?”

“Put her to bed. But make sure she has plenty to drink. Water or tea. Nothing stronger even if she asks for it.” Sylvia eased Corn off her jacket and passed her to Sil who was staring at them with wide eyes. “I will be back in the morning to check on her.” Another flash and Sylvia was gone.

Corn sagged against Sil and felt herself begin to cry again.

“Hecate! Rin!”

There were more hands on her and Corn felt herself being put into bed. Someone pressed a glass into her hands and asked her to drink so she did, and then flopped back against the pillows and let herself be covered in blankets.

She could hear voices talking, no doubt about her, but she couldn't understand the words and found she didn’t care. She closed her eyes, and let the darkness claim her.

Read chapter 18

Read chapter 20

[cutegirlmayra]

this prompt is VERY au but ive had this for a while , and ive always wanted to see u write it: okay so amy & sonic haven't seen each other for a while bc shes been away studying or something & when she comes back shes more mature & understands the concept of personal space xD and sonic gets a bit upset bc shes not paying him much attention like she used to or maybe he can get jelly of someone!! its okay if u dont want to but ur writing is soooo good i would just love to see it !! ur the best!

Actually, I wanted to do a fanfiction on this idea of Amy leaving for a ‘monastery retreat’ where they promise enlightenment. She leaves a letter and purposefully states she’s not saying where she’s going until she’s found ‘inner peace’ with herself. She goes on the journey that tests her, then gets a job when she realizes the retreat needs to be paid for. She works for some cruel tavern people and gets swindled/con’d. She stands up for herself and gets the money back (by/with some force, lol). She is selected by a teacher who is usually very picky about his students, an armadillo who is infamous for whacking his students with his long stick to train them.

After all this, he teaches her ‘self control’ and ‘balance in her chi’ or whatnot.

I’m starting this concept off after Sonic receives many letters/postcards with different buildings and locations from the mountain she’s at. He takes out the photos, and one by one, races off to each landmark till he finds the mountain and finds her.

Prompt:

Sonic sped forward till halting and slightly wagging from the left over momentum as he looked up at the monastery.

Moving his mouth to the corner of his muzzle, he then pulled out the last postcard Amy sent him, and held a finger up to his chin, tapping his pointer finger to see if it matched.

Yep, definitely.

He looked over, “And that must be the tavern that treated her so poorly.” he put the photo away, but never took his eyes off of it.

“Time to teach them some manners when it comes to rooming guests.” Sonic adjusted his gloves, and smirked, knowing he was gonna cause some mayhem before saying hello to Amy. (his form of justice, he really didn’t like how she described how they treated her.)

After being the most annoying and stuck-up snob the tavern had ever known, they tried to kick him out, even if he did have rings, he wasn’t going to pay them, and fought his way out scott-free.

He chuckled to himself, before looking up at the monastery again. “Check.” he seemed to mentally be checking something off a list, and then threw a ring back at a dog-pile of beaten up men, all having their eyes spin around in their dizziness.

Sonic raced up the monastery before leaning over a counter, smiling charmingly to the woman present.

“Hey.”

“Hello.” the woman gave him a cold look up, and continued to look at her scrolls.

“…Eh-heh.” Sonic smiled nervously, seeing she looked a bit stingy. He straightened himself out, “Is there an Amy Rose that goes here?”

Her face suddenly shifted, and she immediately threw up a cane, pointing it directly at him. “I HATE THAT GIRL. DO YOU KNOW HER!? ARE YOU HERE TO TAKE HER AWAY!?”

Sonic put his hands up, “Y…yes?” he raised an eyebrow, amazed someone could hate Amy… w-well, maybe not THAT amazed, but..

“Oh good~” she suddenly looked cheery and her age, putting her hands together and up by her cheek. “Right this way~” she swished her black cat tail and gestured for him to follow her.

She smirked as they walked into the inner arena, within the walls of the ancient ground.

Sonic peeked over, “Ah!” He was amazed to see two girls battling, one was..

“Amy!”

“Pfft. I’ll admit, she’s improved.” the girl rolled her eyes. Was that a hint of jealousy?

Amy rolled to dodge a girl holding a stick with two spiked knifes tied to the ends of it.

She got up quickly to duck from another swipe before the girl jabbed, and she had to lean away, holding her hammer with both hands.

“Woah!”

Her sensai watched safely away, placing a hand slowly on his staff. “…Focus… Right foot… now!” he muttered to himself, but Amy couldn’t hear him.

Amy leaped to the right side, as if dodging a hint that she was predicting. (He would have naturally hit her with his staff on her ankle if this was training so she’s used to expecting a staff hit xD)

She jumped from her hands and did a few back-flips, before positioning herself again and waiting…

Sonic was slightly confused. Amy’s one to charge in headstrong, but now she’s being..

patient?

She then saw the girl charging her, shouting out a battle cry, as Amy innocently looked up, and seemed calm before looking back down.

She jumped and did the splits, as the girl whammed her face into the wall behind her, and looped her hammer over a wall decoration.

She waited a second in the air for the girl to lean back, holding her face.

She then fell on the girl and whacked her out.

“Winner! The Reformed Rose!”

Amy got up and giggled, thinking the nickname funny since the first time she got here, and then looked up.

Her smile and waving completely halted, as her eyes fixated…

On her favorite shade of blue.

Her master looked confused, before following her eyesight with his own. He gasped, picking up his long stick. “Oh no.” he quickly rushed to where Sonic was.

Amy raced up with acrobatic skills to him.

While keeping her pace, her master kept looking over to her, worried. “Remember your training, remember your training!” he kept muttering, as finally they both made it up to the final wide ring of the arena, and Amy, in her monk attire, held the biggest open smile on her face, panting from her effort to get all the way up here after a battle like that.

Sonic stepped back, as the counter-girl just glared and ‘hmph’d, folding her eyes and giving Amy a snake-eye, then turning away.

“You’re so-called ‘boyfriend’ is here to take you away.” she left then, fanning her arrogant hand behind her.

Sonic hadn’t seen her in months, and this new look… she definitely had grown. Did he miss a birthday?

Her figure was more built, and her muscles, a bit a intimidating…

Amy was about to cry out his name, before her master whacked a stick to her head and she rubbed it hard, looking to him.

“Restrain yourself…” he eyed her cautiously, as if squinting a warning.

“This will be your final test of all your training. Fail it. And you will not be leaving this monastery.” he warned her, and slammed his staff’s end down, nodding his final statement.

“W-wai-wait a minute there…” Sonic held his hands out, as Amy’s whole body suddenly shifted to them, as if longing to be in them again…

“Uhh..” he held his hands back, seeing her reaction. He knew she’d have withdrawals… but not this bad. “I think we may have to change that ruling a bit.” Sonic scratched behind his head, then looked to Amy.

“Amy, Cream and the others have been worried sick about you.” he lightly spoke to her, arching his eyebrows back to show tenderness, and gesturing to try and entice her to come back. “We’ve all been wondering where you’ve been. Now that I’ve found ya, I plan on taking you back so they won’t have to miss you anymore.”

Amy was still fixated on the way he lovingly said her name, but then heard about her dear friends and looked shocked to hear that, before guilty and bending her ears down.

“Oh, S-”

“Ehem.”

Amy flinched, expecting a staff, but realized her master only gave her a light warning. She was forbidden to say his name��

“..My… friend.” she twitched an eye down, before taking a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. “I would love to go back. But I have to receive permission from my sensai.” she gestured lovingly to her master, who kept his eyes shut, but motioned his head up high, showing status.

“Your sensai?” Sonic narrowed his eyes to the old man, and folded his arms. “You mean this geezer with the long mustache and goatee?”

Like a statue, her master did nothing.

She freaked out though, bending her arms to guard herself but he did nothing to retaliate.

“You would do good in training somewhat in your mouths formation of words as well, boy.” He stuck a piece of his sticks cut off small branch into his ear, wiggling it around. “I could barely hear the insult you said.”

Sonic twitched an eyebrow, this man could dish one back just the same.

Sonic smiled though, liking the fight in him.

He was impressed and held out his hand. “Sonic. Sonic The Hedgehog.”

“I know who you are.” The man moved the hand to the side, before walking to the ring.

Sonic looked confused, before shrugging to Amy, who lightly nodded an apology before turning to her master.

“If you wish to truly see if you’ve mastered all I have to teach you… you must fight your love in the arena!” he spread his arms out, as the crowd suddenly hushed and the battle happening below stopped.

“W-what?!” Amy was shocked. “B-b-but Master!”

“Your speaking back!” He swung his stick into her gut, as she whinced a minute in pain before motioning her fingers around to harness any noise and keep it together.

“No, … M-master.”

“Hmph. Good.” He removed the stick and nodded.

“Amy!” Sonic’s hand went to her, but the master’s eyes shone with a spark and he hit them away from her.

“O-ow! Hey!” Sonic held his hands and glared at the old man. “You know, some could call this abuse!”

“Heh. He is your friend, isn’t he?” The man smiled, knowing she had said the same thing.

Amy got up, shaking a head to Sonic. “You can’t touch me. Cause I’m not allowed to touch you.”

Sonic’s head flung back to him. “W-what?” he blinked a moment, before trying to put to and to together. “Amy… you’re not.. a literal monk, are you?”

She flinched, “WHAT?! NO! I’m not a nun!”

“O-oh…phew~” He was glad he wasn’t THAT late…

“To the arena with you!” The master had skillfully maneuvered himself behind the two, and with one fell swoop of his staff, pushed the two off the ring as they fell towards the arena.

Amy used her hammer to help Sonic spin away, and then flipped and pushed off landings to roll down safely as well.

“Oh! Sonic are you al-!” She cupped her hands over her mouth, about to rush towards him before a staff thrust itself in front of her and stopped her progression.

She realized her mistake and bowed to it, before letting the access energy from Sonic’s presence being there out through training drills, punching around herself and shouting out battle cries before returning to inner peace…

“I am more than my affections… alright!” she prepared for battle. “If I can defeat you, S- I mean!” she shook her head. “My friend. Then I can go home with you!”

He was irritated that someone was forcing her to not even say his name. But then also pushing such limitations onto himself.

He cracked his knuckles, and started to stretch. “Very well, Amy. If I have to fight you, then I won’t go easy on ya.” He then smirked, getting ready. “But not being able to touch me won’t be very easy… I’m fast, you know.” he winked.

“Begin!”

He charged around her in a circle, and she closed her eyes to sense him, before swinging her hammer up to dodge a fast on-going, bullet frenzy of blue.

‘Heh, so she’s learned to listen and wait it out, huh?.’ Sonic looked amused, stopping then and then walking towards her.

“What else have you learned?”

She smiled, seeing he was having fun with this.

He jumped to fake a kick down, before swinging his other leg and hitting her to the side.

She caught herself quickly as he went for a punch, but was able to block and then slide her hammer under his ankle, pinning him and then looking apologetic.

“Sorry.” she squinted her eyes as she bonked him on the head.

“Ow! Ooohhh, almost missed that…” his eyes spun a moment, but he shook it out.

“Heh.” he reached up and grabbed her arms.

“Ah!”

Her master narrowed his eyes.

“Got’cha!” Sonic rolled back on his spine and kicked her over him, getting back up as the crowd cheered.

The sensation of Sonic holding her was a lot for Amy, even if it wasn’t a true ‘hold’ she still got up and tried to restrain herself.

“Okay… okay…” she took calming breathes and turned back around.

Sonic watched her struggle, and started getting upset.

What was wrong with Amy hugging him?

‘I’m more than my affections…’

She had said that, right?

He glared up at her master, who returned the look to him.

“What has he been teaching you…” Sonic lost trust then, even if the man had witty comebacks, if he had brainwashed his friend to believe that touching him or even saying his name was bad…

Unforgivable.

Amy, after seeing him not moving, decided to go for it.

She held her hammer high up by her shoulder, and leaped from one side ot the other, “Here I gooo!!!”

Sonic turned with a calm expression, looking seriously to her.

She suddenly saw him not move and halted her attack, stopping in front of him.

Her master rose his head, eyeing Sonic’s next move.

“S-So-I-I mean! Friend..?” she blinked her eyes, not sure what he was doing.

“Sonic.” He almost bit down on his teeth while saying it. “And I’m not playing this game anymore…”

He walked over to her, as she stepped back slightly, lowering her hammer.

“W-what are you-?”

He embraced her, and held her close.

The crowd gasped, as the master moved himself to the ring’s railing, and waited… patiently…

Amy’s whole being twitched.

She wanted to just smoother him with affection, kiss him over and over, and hold him tighter and tighter!

Her hands moved to hold him back, before stopping.

She had learned so much… about herself, love, and freedom… about inner peace and self-reliance.

She even learned that her own feelings could be managed, and that it’s better to discipline them than let them run amok.

She did touch him, but only to pull him away.

With a kind smile, she closed her eyes, and tilted her head. “I missed you too, Sonic. I’m glad I get to see you again.”

Her master jumped down as Sonic’s approving smile turned to a frown of protection, and he moved his hand over Amy and pulled her behind him.

“Amy’s coming with me!”

He walked forward, head down. “I know she is. Because she won.”

The two blinked for a moment.

“W-wha?” Sonic seemed more startled by that then Amy, as she moved passed his protective arm and over to her sensai, bowing low for him.

“Forgive me, Sensai.”

“No. You’ve done all I expected you to do.” he bowed to her, as the crowd gasped, and she leaned up, shocked.

“M-master!”

“You’ve conquered your emotions, tamed them, and held your being with dignity and every grace a woman can procure.” he leaned up, smiling kindly to her, showing he really did care for his pupil. “You’ve surprised me. Even with great temptation, you valued your new found strength and knowledge more than the cardinal demands of the body. You’ve mastered both body and spirit… and now, you’re heart.” he put his hands together, his staff resting on the crook of his arm, as if showing he wasn’t going to discipline her anymore.

“You may leave… with Sonic.” he nodded the permission of her to speak his name. “And even hug him if you’d like.”

Suddenly, Amy squee’d as all her energy burst from her, and she was about to tackle into Sonic. “SOONNICC-OOFFHP!”

His staff had masterfully slammed into her tailbone, as he glared a moment before pulling it back.

“Don’t let old habits own your new found success… Rose.”

“Y-..Yes, Sensai.” she realized he wasn’t going to let her slip on her training either.

The two left the wide, Asian gates as Amy left with her old red dress, but a sash around her waist with decorative beads hanging down one end of it, showing she was a master monk now. She giggled as it made her dress stick down, and then held Sonic’s arm.

“Shall we?”

Sonic smiled, before pulling her closer and seeming okay with the intimacy. He scratched his nose as some men from the tavern recognized him, and saw who he was with, and fled crying out for mercy.

Amy blinked her eyes in confusion, raising an eyebrow, before looking over to Sonic with suspicion.

He shrugged and chuckled nervously, before scooping her up and taking off.

“Ah! I missed this!” Amy cried out, as Sonic looked down, unamused.

“W-what?” she saw something was troubling him and wondered what on earth it could be. “too tight?” she loosened her hands from his neck, before completely moving them off. “S-sorry.” she looked away.

“…Not tight enough.” he motioned his head down, seeming upset.

Her smile grew wide, and she giggled as she put her arms back around him, and moved her head up. “Hehe, I think I like having you ask for it, now~” she cooed, winking to him as he rolled his eyes.

“I’ll admit. It’s nice to actually have you act grown up for once.”

“Why you-! Hmph!” she puffed up her cheek and looked away. “I don’t have to get angry at those foolish comments anymore.”

“Haha! I’m free! No more hammers!” he jumped and clicked his heels together.

“Oh, Sonic!”

“Say my name!”

“Sonic?”

“One more time!”

He giddily danced off as she laughed, chanting his name and clapping as he really did seem happy to have her back, new and improved, with some of her old habits still being wanted and liked, so it seemed~

“I appreciate the restraint. But you can still hug me.. j-just not randomly or in the middle of something… alright?”

“Now look whose making the rules…” Amy pouted.

“But no hard sticks included!”

They laughed.

(hope that’s what you wanted >w

[poeticandvaguelysweet]

Prompt #149 - Elliot and Private Moments

ANON: You should do a fic of small and innocent Elliot accidentally walking into Claire and Owen's "private moment" (if that alright with you)

I know, I know there’s an entity in the fandom that is begging for no more kidfic. Which is why I am posting this before my next fic which is not kid involved.

AO3 - C&E Index 

ELLIOT AND PRIVATE MOMENTS

‘She’s out for the count,’ Claire announced, entering the room slightly out of breath. She stopped in front of him, practically squirming on the spot.

Owen hummed, watching her with a raised brow and slight concern. Claire tugged at the dress she wore, raising the hem over her knees before her hand slipped beneath the fabric.

‘Charlie’s at a playdate for the next,’ her eyes jumped to the clock in the kitchen, ‘hour’. Before he could truly grasp what she was trying to hint at, Claire was shimming her underwear down her legs and unceremoniously throwing them at him. He put Charlie’s school newsletter aside, body sinking into the couch as he watched her, smirk on his lips.

She lowered herself to his lap, sinking just as he did, her hands on his shoulders as her lips touched his skin gently at first, before devouring him whole. Claire wasn’t exactly impatient when it came to sex, but more demanding, ready to take control of the situation whether he was ready to participate or not. Owen never complained, rather sat there winded while his wife took the reigns.

‘Are you back on the FSH and I didn’t know?’ He asked, slight crinkle in his brow, curious as to what at sparked her libido. Although dominating, Claire wasn’t crazed for sex. She wasn’t the one to throw her clothes about the house in desperate need to get them off. That was his job; the insatiable one. There had been a period, while trying to conceive Elliot, where the hormones Claire was on spun her through a whirlwind of mood swings. Where he didn’t like to see his wife suffering, Owen couldn’t help but like the occasional spike in their sex life. Mostly, it was nowhere new fun and games, Claire emotionally bereft more than the quietly happy she had been before they started.

She shook her head, smiling as her lips nipped at his neck. ‘Owen,’ her voice was low, dry with the same lust that was starting to block his throat. ‘When was the last time we had sex?’ He had to think about it which was answer enough for Claire, the woman rolling her hips against his eliciting a moan from her husband.

Charlie never interfered with their love life. She slept when she was supposed to and woke on cue, she never cried when they left her with her grandparents, and preferred the five minutes alone they gave her while Owen shoved Claire up against the bathroom wall. Elliot, however, was a little different. If medically able, the two-year-old would choose to attach herself to her mother’s hip.  From birth, she was constantly at her mother’s side, Claire only putting her down if she strictly had to. Now it was rare that his wife showered, worked or slept alone. In fact, he was starting to forget what Claire looked like without Elliot hiding behind her legs. Where Charlie eagerly accepted sleepovers at her grandparents, Elliot wasn’t as easily convinced. The last time Owen could remember them being alone long enough to talk let alone have sex had been months ago.

He stopped frowning at her, dip between his eyebrows smoothing out as his hand dropped to her thigh and started to slide upwards, slipping under the fabric of her dress. She chuckled against his ear, breath warm on his skin as her teeth sunk into his earlobe. ‘Not here,’ she purred, Owen’s large hand squeezing her inner thigh with the eagerness of a thirsty man finally offered water. Claire pushed at his shoulder, trying to pull herself away as Owen snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her back to him. ‘Seriously Owen, my kids eat their cheerio’s on this couch.’

His chuckle sounded more like a grumble as Owen grunted against her neck. It took him a second to find the strength, the man not as young as he had once been, as he lifted her from the couch in one go, her legs wrapped around his waist.

Her back touched the wall more than it should have as Owen staggered up the stairs, barely able to contain himself. She giggled, laughter bubbling from her throat as her husband struggled, refusing to let her go as his grasp tightened on her ass.

‘You’re going to wake her.’ Owen warned, propping her against the hallway wall, as his hand clamped over her mouth. Claire only bit at his fingers, grinning as she purred. Her lips tried to catch his as the man turned his head, throwing a cautionary look in the direction of Elliot’s room. Her door was closed, no sound or sight of the child, calming the man’s worries enough to turn his attention back to his wife.

Claire grinned, expression vibrant as she looked at him, eyes almost sparkling in the light. He kissed her gently, the sort of kiss they shared at dinners or over their kids’ heads. A simple, easy, loving, peck to her lips. He grunted, legs struggling to move the last few feet it took to enter their room. Claire took care of the door as they passed the threshold, pushing it until it clicked in place. He didn’t let her go until his knees hit the edge of their bed, Owen unceremoniously dropping his wife before climbing above her, lips moving to muffle her laughter.

His hand was back on her thigh, unrelenting and nowhere near shy. A large callous thumb found her clit, circling the tissue there before giving it a swift flick. The game chased out of her eyes, glee turning to lust as the blue of her irises melted into black. Owen grinned, smile wicked on his cheeks as he did it again. His skin jumped, stomach tensing as he felt her nimble fingers shake, knuckles tapping against his abdomen, desperately trying to untangle his belt. The metal clanked before fabric hissed, leather pulled free and tossed to the floor.

She was panting and he had barely touched her, man completely in awe of his wife. He couldn’t believe that time had passed and he hadn’t touched her, chased her to the edge and saw her fly over. He knew Claire would attest, he had touched her, he was always touching her. It didn’t matter if they were at a school meeting or lunch with friends, his hand always found her thigh a little too high and took hold, fingers reacquainting with her sensitive places when she couldn’t do a thing about it.

Claire quivered, grunting to herself in slight frustration as she pushed his pants off his hips and reached between his thighs. He could waste time all he wanted, peppering innocent kisses on her stomach but Claire wasn’t going to do the same. She knew their daughter, unlike her sister, was bound to wake from her nap earlier than expected and seek them out. Time was a precious commodity with a toddler down the hall.

She tried to flip them to take control of their time but Owen’s hands held her down, his grip tight on her hips. He only grinned when she huffed, lips smirking against her hip bone as his hands followed the curves of her body, fabric of her dress following his movements.

‘Hi,’ he grinned, kissing her nose softly as they came face to face, Claire pulling her dress over her head. She barely managed to whisper his greeting back as the man buried his head against her neck. Claire couldn’t help the breathy gasp that escaped her, nails clawing at his skin as her husband found the sensitive spot behind her ear.

Claire whimpered, the sound barely there and needy as she rolled her hips against his, her knees tapping against his ribs. Owen didn’t need her to beg twice, man kissing the cut of her jaw as his lips trailed south, stopping at her collar bone before descending to the curve of her breast. She had to whimper again, face drawn in impatience before her husband smiled tenderly lips dropping to a rosy nipple before his hand squeeze her hip, the other guiding himself into her.

She barely caught the sound around the hiss that slipped from her, gasp raw in her throat as her husband grunted. It was faint, but there, enough that she knew she hadn’t imagined it. Claire rolled her head, eyes watching the bedroom door just as she saw the handle move.

Her hand flew to Owen’s mouth, clamping a tight hold as she shushed him, the man not ceasing the rhythm he had started. She had to squint to focus, witnessing the handle wiggle again as the tension in her gut begged to be released. She had to hold her breath to hear it, Elliot’s voice on the other side of the door softly sniffling for her mother. ‘Elliot,’ she whispered, panic flaring in her eye as a hand smacked at Owen’s shoulder.

‘She can’t reach the door handle, it’s fine.’ Owen hummed, chuckling softly as he returned his mouth to her breast. Unable to control the small noise that fell from her, Claire shook her head, hand persistent on his shoulder.

‘Charlie taught her how to use to the chair to reach … how do you think she got out of her room?’  He only ignored her, grunting in response as his kisses tried to lull her back to him. Claire was lost, her eyes watching the door with worry, half wondering if he was right. It only took another minute before the door swung open, Elliot falling to the floor when it gave way, the chair she was teetering on, collapsing, her screams rattling the whole neighbourhood. Claire swore, pushing her husband off her as he whined, mostly startled by the sudden commotion his wife tried to warn him about.

Claire pulled her dress back over her head, swooping her daughter up in a heartbeat as she cradled the little girl to her chest. Owen could help the frown, Elliot’s head tucked against her mother’s neck, where he had been happily enjoying himself minutes earlier.

As per usual, Elliot was immediately soothed the second her mother scooped her up. The world’s issues seemed to melt away as the child dropped her head to her mother’s shoulder and glared at the man who had taken her away.

The adults didn’t share any words and barely any looks as Claire kissed her baby’s head and turned away. There was no doubt, to Owen, that the fun Claire had started was over. Elliot was awake not thirty minutes into her scheduled nap and would demand her mother lie with her.

‘What are you doing out of bed, baby?’ Claire’s voice drifted down the hall with Elliot’s sniffles. Her answer bouncing back.

‘I miss you.’ She muttered, fingers in her mouth in an effort to self soothe as her blue eyes tried to play innocent. To a toddler, solving their issues was easy enough. Elliot was sure all her problems would be answered with her sights set on her mother and a cuddle. So far, she hadn’t been wrong.

‘Okay, back to nap time.’ Claire sung softly, kissing Elliot’s blonde hair.

Sitting in her crib, Elliot looked up at her mother with striking blue eyes, the very same that never failed to melt her. ’Cuddle me?’ She asked, arms raised above her head, blanket tucked under her arm. Claire shook her head with a soft sigh, body still humming with her husband’s touch. It took all her strength not to squirm on the spot or run from the room in search of the release Owen was sure to give her.

‘No, Elie, baby, you have to sleep on your own.’ Claire shook her head again, leaning in to kiss her daughter’s head. It was only recently that they had taken the bars off her crib, leaving the little girl with the comfort of her baby bed with the freedom to come and go as she pleased. Claire didn’t know if she was ready for the upgrade, ‘big girl bed’ ordered and ready to be delivered the following week.

The girl refused to lie down, just as her mother refused to leave the room until she did. ‘What was daddy doing?’ She asked innocently, head tilted as her index finger flicked at her lip. Claire sighed, whole body moving with it as she gave in, telling her daughter to shuffle over as she squeezed her body into the crib.

‘Nothing, baby.’ Claire tried to pacify Elliot, hoping the answer was enough. It wasn’t. Elliot opened her young mouth a second time, statement falling from it about her father’s position above her mother. ‘We were about to take a nap, just like you should be doing.’ She bopped the girl on the nose, refusing to take another word of it as she dug Elliot’s pacifier out from the girls blanket and handed it to the child.

Owen checked in on them no less than fifteen minutes later, Elliot splayed across her mother’s chest, holding his wife down. The girl, stubbornly fighting sleep as she glared at her father in the dark of her room. ‘My mama!’ She pouted, burrow furrowing deeper as she flung a hand towards her father, trying to stop him from coming closer.

He squeezed Elliot’s small fingers, turning the same pout to his wife. ’Rain check?’ He asked, grin cocky, pants replaced, shirt missing. Claire only rolled her eyes, trying her best to shift the toddler who refused to budge, clinging to her mother’s clothes.

‘No, mine, stay!’ Elliot grumbled, still glaring baby blues at the man who helped create her. Her small hand took hold of her mother’s breast, eyes partly closed as she sucked on the pacifier in her mouth. Owen couldn’t believe how much like a little girl she still was, all the while being entirely too grown up. Her glares followed words now, and warnings not to touch her much loved possession; Claire.  

He watched Elliot out of the corner of his eye, like the little girl was a flighty animal, unpredictable and bound to attack. ’So, I called my parents and they’re taking the girls tomorrow morning until the end of the weekend. No ifs, ands, buts, or tears.’ He levelled Elliot with a head on look, the girl’s eyes closed, her breathing dropped. She had fallen asleep before she could hear her fate. It was Thursday. Three days and two nights without their children seemed alien. Charlie was often always with her grandparents - Elliot was the one who would put up a fight with the news.

Claire was practically giddy again, thrilled that they would have some time alone for the first time in too long. ‘Sorry that I’ve been neglecting you … us - it’s not going to happen again.’ He dropped a kiss to the top of her head, promising dedicated weekends once a month where their daughters were to be shipped to their grandparents so their parents could reconnect.