#granted I already was but this slipped past so now I gotta be Even More Scrutinously Paranoid

[solarpunkani]

Oof yeah, I looked into the replies and the op, ghostowlattic, said that they had an AI do the trains and stuff. Yikes

euuuugh this is so frustrating.

"Yeah I just had the AI do the trains. I still put work into it though." fucking where???? the trains are literally the main thing. They're literally the focal point.

Ugh. Thanks for letting me know, I probably never woulda double checked otherwise.

[venusstorm]

More Than Friends

Part Three

Fear. It drove apart your friendship with Chris, it prevented him from telling you how he feels, and after a big argument, you’re left wondering if he had ever even cared. 

Note: Italics indicate past events

Warnings: 18+, angst, fluff

Part Two <Series Masterlist> Masterlist

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Scowling at himself, Chris stares at his reflection on the dresser. He took notice of the few gray hairs that were starting to scatter within his beard, and the way his laugh lines were becoming a bit more prominent.

You always said how much you loved his beard, how you couldn't wait for every brown hair to turn fully gray. It was as if you were already fantasizing about growing old with him, fulfilling the rest of your life with him by your side.

Although he was caught off guard by your profession of love, deep down he always saw it coming. It was painfully obvious how the lines of friendship began to blur the longer you stayed friends. Eventually, someone had to cross the line entirely.

Throughout the years it was a dance— both of you tiptoeing around the idea of pushing your relationship further. Anyone on the outside could see that the two of you were crazy about each other. But somehow both of you missed the memo and remained blissfully ignorant of your growing emotions.

You were a late bloomer. School was your center focus and nobody ever tried to get between that. Although, it’s not like they ever tried.

But maybe that's more because you were insensible to how Chris stuck by your side like glue. Nobody dared to ask out someone whose best friend would send invisible daggers into their head for simply asking you on a date.

So you never got into a relationship, never had your first kiss. In fact, you were well into college when you let the secret slip that you had zero experience in every section of romance to exist.

"Cmon, there's gotta be somebody you're interested in," Chris teases. "You're on a campus filled with thousands of students and you're telling me there's nobody?"

You looked away shyly. "I'm not like you. I don't have people fawning over every step I make."

"I fawn over every step you make," he shrugged. 

Smiling, you shoved him away. "Cause you're annoying and can't leave me alone."

Chris shook his head in disbelief. Jokingly, he gets up to leave. His height made everything in your dorm feel ten times smaller. 

"Where are you going! I was joking!" You shouted 

Hurriedly you get up to grab his hand before he can touch the door handle. "Wait." You whined. 

Chris turns around with an accomplished smirk on his face. "Thought I was annoying?"

"I mean..." you trailed off.

The sound of the door handle being moved makes you grip his hand tighter. "I'm kidding!" 

"Better be," Chris scoffs, his hurt tone nowhere near matching the enormous grin on his face. Tugging him away from the door, you lead him back to the cheap bean bag chairs that sat on the hardwood floors.

A flicker of silence sparks. It wasn't uncomfortable, just present as Chris looks you over.

Going to different schools had been tough. He was so used to hearing your sweet voice ramble on every day, hanging out on his living room couch watching reruns until you both knocked out. Most of all he missed having you near. Chris could hardly go one minute without touching you. He loved the way you played with his hair as he laid in your lap, talking aimlessly because you knew he'd just sit and listen. 

And now he was realizing how much he had taken that for granted. Actually, he was starting to realize that he was taking a lot about you for granted. 

He noticed how mature you looked now. The clear wide framed glasses that you had worn since high school still sat on your face, but your features had changed. 

Time was ticking painfully fast. 

Chris broke the silence, a simple question stuck in his mind. "Has there ever been anybody?" 

You stared at the wall. It was embarrassing telling people that you struggled to find someone. Sometimes it felt as if there was a flashing red signal over your head warning people to not come near. 

"No," you whispered. 

His voice raises in surprise. "Really? So you're telling me nobody is walking around bragging because you were their first kiss?"

Sighing, you shook your head. "I've uhm— I've never—"

"You've never kissed anyone?" Chris stated slowly. 

Anxiously you touch your arm, wanting for this conversation to be over. 

"Held hands?"

"Just yours on rollercoasters."

"Been on a date?"

"Unless hanging around town with you counts," you snort.

It does, he thinks to himself. 

"Have you..."

"If you're asking if I've ever had sex the answer is no. Now can we drop the subject and move on?"

Noticing your distress, Chris moved closer to you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, drawing you in close. "Hey, it's okay. Everyone moves at their own pace."

You've been told that line your entire life. And no matter how hard you try to settle with being inexperienced you can't help but wonder what if. 

"I thought college would be different but nothing has changed. Honestly, I'm starting to accept it. Film and design have always been my sole focus and maybe it's meant to stay that way."

Chris shook his head vigorously. "That's not true angel. You're worth more than any of these boneheads walking around here anyways. You're the kindest person I know. You’re talented and hardworking and let's not forget how breathtakingly beautiful you are. The moment you walk into a room all eyes are drawn to you…”

You turned towards him, eyes locked on him as he continued to praise you. And when he was done, you swore liquid was fighting its way out of your tear ducts. 

Chris pulled you into his lap, his hands cupped your face as a tear finally began to fall. He pressed his forehead against yours, thumb swiping across your cheek gently. "I know none of this means as much coming from a friend...but never doubt that you're worthy of love. Cause trust me when I say that one day you'll make someone the happiest person alive."

“You make him the happiest person alive,” he thinks to himself.

Chris lifted your chin as if to tell you to hold your head up high. You let loose a sliver of a smile. Consumed by sentiment, you allowed your nose to graze over his. His breath hitched as you inched closer. Your bottom lip skimmed against his until you thought thoroughly about what you were doing. Quickly, you pulled away. 

"I'm sor—"

His lips pressed against yours gently. It was short and quick but the way your heart fluttered afterward lasted a lifetime. And when he pulled away you were left in a joyful daze. 

And now it was Chris's turn to have a regretful look on his face. "I'm so sorry I shouldn't have— your first kiss shoulda been special angel, I had no right to—"

Giggling, you embraced him in a hug. "That was perfect Chris."

Nothing romantic ever blossomed from that moment. Neither of you saw it as a pathway to a relationship. Instead, you saw it as a moment where your best friend chose to disarm your insecurities without hesitation. And looking back, you were thankful for the spontaneous act because nobody would have been a better first kiss than Chris. 

But the moment was a bit different from his perspective. It was the first time Chris knew for sure that he was undoubtedly, painstakingly, in love with you.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Chris lifts his head back up towards the mirror, facing his reflection. Dark circles were beginning to form underneath his eyes and he couldn't remember the last time that he let loose a true, unfiltered, smile. 

He was miserable without you.

The sound of his cell phone ringing shakes him out of his daze. Hurriedly he races to the phone, praying that it's you on the other side of the line.

"Manager," he mumbles.

Sliding his thumb across the screen, he picks up the call with a sorrowful tone. "Hello?"

"Hey, Chris! Hope you're not busy right now because I have some great news!"

He can't help but let out a dry laugh. "No, no, I'm not busy." Just wading in self-pity is all.

"Great cause we just received word that The Gray Man is a go! We've already booked your flight and you'll be headed out to Prague Monday morning. I'll email you the details later but just thought I'd share the news."

Panic begins to surge through his body. He can't leave yet, not before he's gotten the chance to speak to you again. He wanted to give you space and after how he acted you deserved it. But if he has to leave...

His manager clears his throat. "Uh, Chris? You still there?"

Falling back to reality Chris rushes out a "yes," his mind still stuck on you. "Thanks for the news, I'll start getting my things together."

They exchange goodbyes before he finally hangs up, throwing his phone onto the bed in agitation.

The first time he left you after an argument resulted in whatever shit he was in now. You had confessed your love and he went off to another country without a word— and he'll never forgive himself for that. 

He can't do that to you again. 

Hurriedly he searches for his shoes, throwing them on before taking the keys to his Camaro off the hook and rushing out of his Boston home. 

Even if you curse him out until he's forced to leave, at least he knew that he tried. 

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

A million tabs were open on the computer screen in front of you, each displaying potential costume designs for the movie. The costume designers had already given their input and now it was your turn to make the final decision. 

The scouting trip to Europe was successful and everything was set in place to begin filming. Come next week you’d be back in Europe on set for one of the most anticipated movies of the year. 

Throwing yourself into work was always easy. Especially when you had problems to avoid. You've had enough confrontation to last a lifetime and now all you wanted to do was leave your baggage behind and focus on The Gray Man. 

Honestly, you're pretty okay with the idea of Chris being on set now. You're a professional, and your no-longer-best-friend-cause-he's-an-idiot, being there won't change that.

You hadn't spoken to him in weeks and although it was tough at first, you soon fell into a familiar pattern of living life without him. It was reminiscent of the events after your confession when all communication came to a stand-still. Sadness and anger had bundled together and talking to him felt like a chore. 

And yet, part of you still yearned for him to catch a flight back to Boston and stand at your doorstep, begging for forgiveness and willing to do anything to mend what he broke. 

As much as you won't admit it, part of you still craves it. After the explosive argument, your brain screamed at you to not let him leave. But you were also sick of putting so much energy into someone who stopped caring a long time ago. "Okay," was all you could say because that's truly all you felt. 

But if Chris stood at your door right now you couldn't promise yourself that you wouldn't cave in. 

The sound of someone knocking at your door tears you away from the screen. Your heart begins to race as you go to check who it is. There's a long pause before the person knocks again, slightly louder this time. 

You inch your way up to the peephole, staring at the person head-on as they continue to knock. 

"Henry?" You whisper.

Fumbling with the locks, you manage to open the door and reveal a slightly disheveled Henry Cavill on the other side. 

"Hi," he smiles. 

You stare at him questionably. "Hi."

Henry scratches the back of his head as he thinks of what to say. He was always forward but something about you made him excruciatingly anxious. "I hope you don't mind me dropping by unannounced. It's just that I never got your number and couldn't think of another way to see you."

He wanted to see you?

"I don't mind," you grin.

"It's really beautiful out today isn't it?" His eyes trail around your yard and then towards the evening sky that coated your neighborhood in a purple hue. Yea. He was anxious alright.

Snorting, you took a look around yourself. "It is."

"Yea..." he trails off. 

"Did you come over to talk about the weather or is there something you wanted to tell me?"

Henry's eyes dart back towards you. He goes to speak but nothing comes out. 

After that night he couldn't stop thinking about you. He never had an issue leaving the next morning and moving on with life. This was foreign territory and he had no clue how to navigate it. 

"Would you like to sit?" You nod towards the wicker chairs on your front porch. Henry smiles gratefully, taking a seat beside you all while still trying to find the right words to say.

"Are you sure this isn't weird? Popping up at someone's home like this isn't exactly the smartest thing to do. I'd hate to make you uncomfortable," he blabbers. 

"I love surprises. Trust me, I don't mind."

"Great," he breathes. "Great."

"So uh—"

"Are you seeing anyone?" His words come out rushed and it takes you a second to process what was said. But when you do, you can't help but grin. "Are you asking me out, Mr. Cavill?" You tease.

He scoffs, "trying to at least."

Your stomach soars from the admission but quickly falls as doubts begin to cross your mind. Only a few months ago had you told someone that you loved them for the first time in your life. That confession alone took years of buried emotions to get to. 

Chris and you were best friends. Pages on pages of history waiting to be jotted down about your lives spent together. You always complained about not having a first love but to be frank, Chris had filled that position the moment you met. 

Moving on could take an unfathomable amount of time and you can't do that to Henry.

"God you're adorable," you murmur. 

He sits up a bit straighter after your remark. "Thank you," he chuckles. 

"I just...my life's pretty complicated right now and I'm more in need of a friend than anything else."

Henry nods, following closely to your words."It's Chris isn't it," he smirks. "I knew that bastard was hiding something from me."

Your eyes widen in shock— "What?"

"Forgive me but we were all talking and I couldn't help but mention you. I've gotta say, that night was on replay in my mind and suddenly I was gushing about you."

Chris told you about this encounter weeks ago, but what he didn't tell you was how he responded.

"It was like he connected the dots from what I was saying and found out it was about you. At the time I didn't register it but now I get it. He only spoke to me when filming, any other time he found an excuse to walk away. I thought I was going crazy thinking he hated me...but turns out we both just had a little crush on the same person."

"Crush?" You sneer. 

He raises an eyebrow- there's no way in hell that you’re oblivious to how Chris feels about you. "Oh, C'mon. Don't pretend like you don't know."

"Yeah…trust me, he's not into me. He's made that perfectly clear." 

Henry shakes his head in amusement. He had never seen two people in such denial. "Well then. I'm happy to just be your friend."

Relief washes over you. You stand up to hug Henry, thanking him repeatedly for being so sweet about everything. "Oh! Before you go, let me finally give you my number."

You take out your phone and hand it to Henry to insert himself as a contact. He types his information and takes a quick photo of himself before handing the phone back to you. "I'll see you around then friend," he chuckles. 

He turns around to leave and you watch as he disappears into his car. And as he backs out of your driveway, you notice a blue Camaro pulling out from the street and driving away.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Part Four

A/N: I love Henry Cavill so this killed me but it had to be done. Gonna go write a fic for him now

Taglist: @littlemarvelmenfan​ @amorisxx​ @kiki-bridges @aoifex @lizzzaaaaaaaaaaa @kissme-hs @pbeckn26 @fallinallinmendes @katiebby04 @smackmyassseb @youngblood199456 @ashpeace888 @@ljej95

If you asked to be tagged and aren’t it’s most likely because there’s no indication of age in your bio. I’d rather be safe than sorry <3

[archaxwii]

Fun With Potions

Warnings: This story contains safe, soft vore, mentions of (but no actual) digestion, accidental fearplay, and minor violence

Been a while since I last wrote something but I got this done just in time for 8/8 ^.^ Little bit of c!Beeduo noms for the soul, gotta love some good experiment-based vore 

(4445 words)

--

So Tubbo had found a way to shrink people. In his experiments to come up with a water-resistance potion for Ranboo, he accidentally managed to shrink himself when testing the potion. So far he hasn't figured out how he managed to miss the mark so badly, but he was grateful for what came out of it.

Luckily it wore off after about an hour. After he was back to his normal size he was fascinated by this new ability, he did several experiments testing the radius, how many things can be shrunk, how long it'll last, and most importantly; what changes to a subject when shrunk.

He found that despite his small stature he was actually quite durable. He wasn't nearly as affected by status affects, such as when he found a busted bottle of poison on the ground and he took barely any damage from it.

He had also once slipped off his desk when testing how agile he was and managed to not break a single bone, he was however quite sore and winded. (He decided not to share that one with Ranboo)

And that brings him to his most interesting discovery yet.

One day he had Ranboo take him out into the forest to test how resistant he was to the cold, unfortunately the answer was: not great, but you can't win 'em all. Despite Ranboo's protest Tubbo insisted they keep testing various methods with the cold. Ranboo helpfully kept feeding him health potions and little bits of food to make sure Tubbo wasn't hurting himself.

It had soon gotten dark, with mobs starting to spawn all around them. They hadn't gotten around to spawn proofing Snowchester, preferring to stay inside the mansion in case Michael needed them.

Normally Ranboo would be able to handle himself just fine but it's not exactly easy to hold a sword and a husband at the same time.

They quickly found themselves surrounded, and Ranboo made a very dumb and impulsive decision. Not seeing any other opinions, he shoved Tubbo into his mouth.

With his hands now unoccupied, he was able to fight. He managed to make his way through the mobs pretty easily, but not without taking a few hits.

Whilst fighting off a couple zombies a creeper snuck up behind him, not noticing until it was too late, he was unable to stop it and Ranboo was right up against the blast and he slammed into a nearby tree.

As he hit his head he subconsciously swallowed. The hit dazed him slightly, confusing him as to what was in his mouth, all he knew what that there was something stuck in his throat and it was really hard to breathe.

He swallowed quickly, not caring for how painful it felt, he needed to get whatever this was down or he'd choke to death before the mobs got him.

He sighed with relief as it finally slipped past his collar, traveling deeper down. He swallowed a couple more times before shakily getting to his feet, re-gripping his sword to finish off the rest of the mobs.

-

Tubbo was absolutely terrified. He had already thought Ranboo was stupid for shoving him into his mouth (though he should have expected it given his tendency to panic) and now he was sitting in his husbands stomach waiting to be digested.

The way down was painful and it felt like he was getting crushed to death. Hell, if it hadn't been for the potion effects, he very well might've been.

It was a momentary relief to be dropped into the open chamber, until he realized where he was.

It was so loud, the chamber pulsating with Ranboo's organs working all around him, the heavy panting of lungs, two rapidly pounding hearts, the sound of Ranboo's stomach and the rest of his digestive system grumbling and growling around this new meal. It was overwhelming.

He wasn't even granted the mercy of being unable to see what was going to kill him. The stomach was bathed in a strange, vibrant red glow, the perfect lighting for Tubbo to watch his skin melt away.

He tried to keep himself curled up away from the small pool of acid at the bottom but each time Ranboo would swing or dodge he'd get thrown back into it. If Ranboo didn't let him out soon he wasn't gonna last very long.

Even through the panic clouding his mind, Tubbo still found it strange he felt no burning. If that was acid then, surely it would hurt right? He had a pretty through coating of the stuff, and yet it felt like he'd just been covered by water. He thought maybe it could've just been saliva but it definitely smelled like stomach acid, so what was going on? Even if Ranboo had a slow metabolism he should at least feel a sting.

What the hell was going on?

He couldn't stop to think as it seemed like Ranboo was running now, he was getting jostled back and forth pretty rapidly and it was making his head spin.

He wasn't sure how long Ranboo had been running, surely it couldn't have been long, they weren't that far away, but eventually he stopped, hopefully he was in the mansion now.

Tubbo was now incredibly dizzy, now knowing what it feels like to be a living pinball, how the hell Ranboo didn't notice that is a mystery he'll never know. All he could hear right now was the furious heartbeat and shallow, heaving breaths of his husband as he recovered from the long run.

It was crazy how he could hear everything from inside, the heavy panting, the woosh of air coming out of Ranboo's lungs, his hearts beating, the growls and groans of the organs around him, Tubbo never realized how loud your own internals could be.

The scientific part of his brain wanted to study everything about his environment so bad, but the rational part of him knew that he was going to die soon if he didn't get Ranboo's attention.

As soon as the sounds of Ranboo's body began to slow as he calmed down, Tubbo began to furiously beat against the walls of the stomach he inhabited.

Tubbo winced at the pained, confused wheeze Ranboo let out, and panicked as the stomach seemed to collapse around him and was finally going to start digesting him.

The acid had been slowly rising to the point where he couldn't keep his clothed hooves out of it, and the chamber had started compact a bit more, massaging him in an attempt to make it easier for him to be broken down so it's not like it was a wild assumption to make.

But he still didn't feel any pain.

Tubbo soon found out that being suddenly squished was from Ranboo doubling over, likely either Tubbo irritated his wounds from the fighting or he was surprised by movement in his stomach. Probably the latter.

"What the heck?! What the hell what that?!" Ranboo cried to himself.

Tubbo decided that now would probably be a good time to speak up. If he could hear Ranboo talk hopefully Ranboo could hear him talk." RANBOO YOU SWALLOWED ME WHILE YOU WERE FIGHTING YOU IDIOT!" He shouted at the top of his lungs.

Ranboo's hands tightened a bit more around the stomach."Wh- Tubbo?! Where- what- I...I did what now?" He whispered with shock and disbelief. Tubbo didn't blame him, he probably wouldn't have believed it either.

Tubbo battered his hands against the stomach walls in front of him." You stuck me in your mouth and you swallowed me!" He repeated loudly.

The walls compressed again as Ranboo pressed his hands further into his stomach, panic lacing his voice." I- I did- oh my gods." Tubbo was suddenly jolted forwards again as Ranboo bolted off, hopefully to get him out of here.

Tubbo found himself dunked into the of acids again, now submerging his legs, and again not a hint of pain.

He was very used to being in near-death situations by now, and since he wasn't dead yet nor in any sort of pain he was genuinely curious as to why he wasn't being hurt.

He figured he was going to be getting out of here soon, so he took a vial he stored in his inventory and scooped up some of the acid for further testing.

Just in time too, as the chamber started to spasm and convulse. Tubbo could also hear poor Ranboo's hacking and coughing as he tried to spit him back up.

Soon Tubbo found himself getting uncomfortably shoved up the tight passage of Ranboo's throat and then eventually he slid out onto the soft towel Ranboo had placed under his mouth. Along with all the acid he had been sitting in, though Ranboo didn't seem to care much about that.

Tubbo could hear the slight sizzle of tears before he even looked up at Ranboo." My gods Tubbo I am so, so sorry I had completely for-forgotten when I was fighting and I-I didn't realize-"

Tubbo rapidly waved his hands to try and calm his husband down." Woah woah, it's ok Boo! You didn't know and I'm not hurt at all, look- see?" He interrupted fast, gesturing to his completely intact, though thoroughly soaked form. Despite the acids he was and still is sitting in there wasn't a scratch on him.

Ranboo's eyes flicked down to meet Tubbo's tiny ones. He usually loved the brief moments when Ranboo would make eye contact with him, but not when they were filled with so much terror.

"But you were I-in there so long I-how-"

"Look, I'm not sure myself, but I never felt any pain, so you never hurt me. I'm ok, ok, Boo?" Tubbo gently reassured him.

Ranboo looked at him wide-eyed, looking him over and expecting to find burns and holes in clothes, yet just finding a perfectly intact Tubbo, covered in slime and acid and in absolute need of a shower.

Ranboo swallowed harshly, meeting Tubbo's eyes again." Y-you're not hurt?" He whispered weakly.

Tubbo smiled up at him softly." I promise you I'm not, Boo."

Ranboo nodded hesitantly, as though he still couldn't believe it.

"R-right, let's um, let's get you c-cleaned up then?" He offered softly.

Tubbo nodded. Even if it was harmless, being covered in acid and saliva and Prime knows what else is honestly really gross and he'd really like a bath.

—

Tubbo was now finally acid-free and had grown back from extra small to regular small. Even though he'd been thoroughly examined to make sure he had no injuries (which he didn't) Ranboo still insisted on staying with him until he grew back to his normal size. And they call him clingy. 

After checking on Michael and having a late dinner they went to bed, Ranboo curling around Tubbo a like a cat. 

In the morning after waking up the two went about their normal routines, making breakfast and playing with Michael and going about feeding the animals, but after a couple hours Tubbo went off to do some experimenting. Not without making sure to give Ranboo a massive hug and telling him where he was going. 

Ranboo still tried to follow him down but Tubbo managed to convince him that Michael would probably rather play upstairs in his room and not in the lab watching him mess around.

Which probably wasn't true, Michael loved being in the lab with him and watching him do his little experiments, but he didn't want Ranboo to fret over what he was doing, likely didn't want a repeat of yesterdays events whatsoever, and Tubbo definitely didn't want Michael to hurt himself on accident, so Ranboo grumbled but left him alone to do his own thing.

Tubbo chuckled to himself as he made his way down. Ranboo was sweet and kind and Tubbo loved him to death but sometimes he could be a bit overbearing. If Tubbo could make nukes by himself he can handle a few acid experiments.

—

After running a handful of tests Tubbo was genuinely surprised by what he discovered.

Luckily when he shrinks and grows, whatever he's holding will shrink and grow too, so he had a nice vial of acid to work with.

He had decided to test it with various things, the first being a slice of apple he'd taken with him from upstairs.

After pouring a small amount onto it the acid began to eat away at the material, not making a huge dent but there was definitely a reaction there. One that was not there whilst he was in Ranboo's stomach.

Next he tested it on a small piece of iron that he had shrunk with once. Apparently if he's not holding an object it'll remain small until he re-sizes with it again. If it requires him to shrink then it must require him to grow back as well, and would remain the same until Tubbo did something else with it.

Such as dump a bit of acid on it. Which he did, and shockingly...nothing happened. He gently swept it into a small disc, pouring a little more for it to sit in for a bit.

As he waited to see if anything happened he went over to the kitchen to grab another apple to actually eat this time. Ranboo always got onto him about getting too caught up in his work and not eating so he decided to take his advice this time.

As he ate he observed the iron, and it still did nothing. Just sat there in a puddle of acid as though it were water.

After he finished his apple, he did a couple more experiments. All the big stuff, had a reaction, all the little stuff had no reaction.

So it definitely had to be the shrinking causing this.

If no objects had melted while shrunk, he assumed that meant he wouldn't either.

Obviously he couldn't test anything on living matter cause he would never subject anything to that even if it was safe. Well, nothing except himself of course.

He didn't really want to pour a vial of acid on himself all alone in case it did hurt him, so he decided to go for the next best thing.

—

"My gods Tubbo- no I'm not going to swallow you why would I ever do that, haven't we already been through enough of that?!" Ranboo whisper-screamed. Not out of anger but fear of actually hurting Tubbo this time.

"It's for science!" Tubbo said with a grin, tail wiggling behind him." I've already done some testing and it definitely seems like the shrinking causes some sort of resistance to it, and we've seen that with other types of damage too so it's not like it's -that- crazy!" He argued.

"It's crazy to want me to eat you!" Ranboo shouted, waving his hands around in exasperation.

Tubbo sighed and grabbed Ranboo's flailing hands, taking them into his own." Look, Boo, it'll just be for a few hours, and if anything bad happens you can just spit me up like you did earlier, right? I promise I'm not gonna let myself get hurt, and I promise that you aren't going to hurt me, ok?" He said softly, tone more serious now.

Ranboo looked at him, desperately searching his gaze, before deeply exhaling."...You're really doing this?" He said defeatedly, ears dipping down.

Tubbo’s ears and tail matched Ranboo’s drooping, feeling a bit guilty." I'm not gonna force you to do this if you don't want to, I get it's scary and we don't know what's gonna happen, even if I want to do this it's your body and your decision." He stated." However, I am taking all the precautions needed, I'll take health pots and gapples, and I promise you'll know if something's wrong."

Ranboo was quiet for a minute, looking up as he contemplated, before closing his eyes, sighing, and nodding. He pulled Tubbo close, hugging him tight." Fine. But we're doing this tomorrow so I know I'll stay awake." He said firmly.

Tubbo smiled, relaxing into him, bumping their foreheads and rubbing their horns together.

"Of course, Boo."

—

The next day, after eating, spending some time with Michael, and prepping everything Tubbo needed for the journey they figured they were probably just as ready as they were gonna get.

They sat in their bedroom, Ranboo staring down at his tiny husband in his hands. His tail flicking behind him anxiously. Tubbo could tell he was still scared to do this, but they'd already come this far and Ranboo hadn't backed out yet.

Tubbo hated to admit it, but he was pretty scared too, as excited as he was to do this, it was still pretty risky. Any number of things could happen, he could get stuck on the way down, he could make Ranboo choke, the acid might have a time limit and he could really hurt himself, it was a dangerous situation.

But Tubbo was used to danger, and Ranboo was determined to go through with this, so they carried on.

Ranboo held Tubbo up to his face, despite the size they still managed to press their foreheads together before Ranboo brought him down to his mouth.

"Now remember, Boo, if you ever feel uncomfortable you can back out any time, we can always do this another day or I can just focus on something else and ignore that this ever happened. I was eager last night but I value your comfort over my curiosity." Tubbo said earnestly, patting the side of Ranboo's mouth.

Ranboo gave him a soft smile, letting out a breathless chuckle that caused Tubbo's hair to blow backwards." Thank you, Tubbo, I'll keep going, I wanna do this for you, and it's only for a few hours right?" He reiterated, both to reassure himself and to know they were on the same page.

Tubbo nodded." Yep, if I can stay in there for more than 3 or 4 hours then that probably means I'm immune, can't imagine it taking much longer than that, and that's about all I need to know, besides, it'll be cool to see what an enderman's insides look like when I'm not panicking and afraid I'm gonna die."

Ranboo blinked." You know, I'm kinda curious about that myself. Tell me what you find, if it's...as weird as the rest of me I'd like to know." He said with honest curiosity.

Tubbo grinned, nodding excitedly." You know I will, bossman."

Ranboo opened his mouth, leaving it open for Tubbo." Remember to cover me in a lotta spit, don't want a repeat of yesterday!" He called before crawling in.

As he crawled inside he was hit immediately with the warmth, though it wasn't as hot as he was expecting it to be, he supposed that made sense, Ranboo's outer body temperature was much cooler than normal as well.

He settled down on the long, lizard-like tongue Ranboo had. It wasn't super thick so it took longer to cover him him but he had a lot more control over it, able to swipe and curl around him easily, coating him thoroughly.

Tubbo giggled at the rough, ticklish sensation. It felt just like a cats tongue.

He wasn't a fan of the stickiness of the saliva but it was a necessary evil, he didn't want to get stuck in Ranboo's throat, that would be bad for the both of them.

Ranboo was gentle and hesitant, not wanting to hurt Tubbo at all, not that Tubbo was afraid he was going to. If he didn't have complete faith in him he would not be about to spend several hours in his stomach.

Soon though, Ranboo stopped licking at him, and softly nudged him towards the back of his mouth. He paused with Tubbo's legs positioned just above his throat.

Right, he couldn't talk with something in his mouth." I'm ready when you are, bossman!" Tubbo called, not sure how loud he was to the ender hybrid.

Ranboo hummed something that sounded like an" ok," before pausing again. Tubbo heard a woosh of air as Ranboo let out a deep sigh through his nose, and he had to fight not to scrabble as the mouth tilted upwards.

Ranboo swallowed, Tubbo yelped as he went from the openness of his mouth to the very tight constriction of his throat.

Another swallow shoved him down a bit further into the unpleasant tightness. Man this was almost worse than when he went down scared he was going to die. Now he was aware of every sensation around him, how hot it was, how it felt like all the air was getting crushed out of his lungs. Even with how slicked he was he still only went down a little bit with each swallow.

With a few more swallows he presumed he was deep in Ranboo's chest now, able to clearly hear his twin heartbeats. They were just out of sync with each other but were both pounding rapidly, making his head spin with just how loud they were.

A couple more swallows and he found himself pressed against something, after an awful tight squeeze he dropped into a small but blissfully open chamber.

Tubbo panted, laying still for a few moments as he tried to regain control over his body.

"T-Tubbo are you alright?" Ranboo nervously chimed. Tubbo could feel the slight indent as he pressed a hand to his stomach.

Not wanting to worry him, he got up to his feet, before falling over again, not able to walk on the unstable "floor" of the stomach.

He settled for pressing his hands against the wall where he could feel Ranboo's, moving his hands up and down." I'm fine, Boo! Just a bit winded, what about you are you fine?!" He shouted, voice breathy.

"Y-yeah I'm good! it was tough getting you down but it didn't hurt nearly as bad as last time." Ranboo sounded out of breath too." Um, what about the acid, is it affecting you?"

Tubbo turned his attention to the small puddle of acid on the floor that his hooves were dipped into. It just felt like they were submerged in water. Seemed like the shrinking still protected him against it.

"I think we're good Boo! It's just like last time I don't feel anything from it!" He exclaimed, excited for this new discovery.

Tubbo could hear the sigh of relief Ranboo let out." Good, I'm glad...are you...going to stay in there the whole time then?" He tentatively asked.

Tubbo was silent for a minute, turning around taking time to observe the chamber surrounding him.

The stomach wasn't very big, not surprising since he didn't have a very big appetite, he figured at max around 2 or 3 people could fit in here if they didn't mind being squished together.

Every bit of the stomach was a glowing red, similar to Ranboo's luminescent blood. Thank Prime it wasn't radioactive green like the other half of Ranboo's blood. He supposed that side didn't run to these organs.

It was cooler than he was expecting, similar to Ranboo's mouth, instead of a sweltering sauna it was more like a lukewarm bath. Even with his distaste for the heat he could probably sleep just fine in here.

It was loud too, able to hear Ranboo breathing, his hearts beating, the gurgles and growls from below and around him. It was overwhelming, but not in a bad way. Drowned out the constant ringing in his ears and made it easier to focus.

It was...kinda nice in here. He wouldn't mind staying here for a while, a long, long while.

"I don't think I'd mind staying in here a bit longer." He admitted honestly. Though he wasn't the one to make that decision. He leaned back into the stomach walls, putting a hand against it." How about you, bossman? I don't want to stay in here if it makes you uncomfortable."

"Hm? Oh- I thought I said I wasn't hurt didn't I?" He said with confusion.

"I mean like how do you feel about this, about having me inside you, is this too weird?" He questioned.

Ranboo was silent for a moment." W-well, it um, it does feel weird, but um, not like in a bad way? You're uh, very warm and kinda heavy, it's uh...nice? Is, I'm sorry if that's weird of me to say just uh-"

"Don't feel bad about it Boo! I was gonna say something similar, I think it feels kinda nice in here too!" He exclaimed, not wanting Ranboo to think he was weirded out.

"Oh." Tubbo noticed that the walls had gone from a vibrant red to a much more dark tone." Then...yeah, I don't mind you being...in there." He said, still clearly a bit embarrassed.

Ranboo softly chuckled." Well um, I have to go check on Michael in a bit but uh, before I do, for a little bit...do you think you can do that...thing again?" He shyly asked, pressing a hand to his stomach.

Tubbo tilted his head to the side, not sure quite what Ranboo was talking about." What thing, exactly, bossman?"

Ranboo coughed slightly, Tubbo could feel his hand slightly move behind him." That uh, rubbing, you were doing earlier?" The walls of the stomach got even darker.

Tubbo paused, then grinned." You mean this?" He turned around, planting his hands on the walls and rubbing large circles into them.

Tubbo could physically feel Ranboo melt at the sensation."...Yeah, it feels really nice." Ranboo breathed out." I'm gonna...lie down for a minute." He said before Tubbo felt the world tilt. He fell back onto the opposite side of the stomach, splashing through the acids on the way, yet still felt no pain.

"Oh! Sorry Tubbo, I didn't think that would happen!" Ranboo yelped, immediately apologizing at feeling the change in position.

"You're good Boo, it's pretty soft in here not much is gonna hurt me." He quickly replied to avoid Ranboo's worrying.

Ranboo was quiet for a second." Oh, um, what's it...like in there?" He said with curiosity.

Tubbo moved back to his original position, though rubbing a bit lower now since the last place was too high up. He grinned at the jolt he felt."...Well, imagine like wrapping yourself up in a bunch of blankets that are warm and cozy but are also soaking wet, it's kinda like that. It feels weird, but once you get used to it it's kinda nice." He explained whilst focusing on rubbing in different areas, Ranboo seemed to like it best when it was underneath where his own hand was gently rubbing him back.

"Heh, I guess that does sound kinda nice." Ranboo said contemplatively." I wonder what it's like..." He whispered to himself, not aware Tubbo could still here him.

Tubbo chuckled." If you ever wanna find out Boo, I have the potion for you." He offered with a smile, not that Ranboo could see.

Ranboo giggled, giving his belly a light pat." Maybe later, it's uh, gonna take me a while to get used to this." He said sheepishly. The walls remained their dark red color.

Tubbo couldn't help but agree, he was definitely gonna enjoy this, but he'd probably need a while to adjust too before he was on the opposite end of this. For now he was content to enjoy the safety and comfort his husband brought him.

[thestoriesincoffeestains]

Conserving Quickie [Vivienne/Grant]

@thestoriesincoffeestains​​ sent: ‘ for your muse to join mine in the shower while getting ready for the day’ —  Grant & Vivienne  —

A month ago, Grant would have laughed if someone told him that he and Viv would be messing around. He knew that she wasn’t ready to settle for anything serious — that maybe she would never be. But, they were two very attractive, very good friends that had a connection, chemistry, and magnetism toward each other. It only made sense that while they weren’t attached to anyone else, to cash in on the benefits. That wasn’t to say Grant had stopped pining for more, but he had taken the possibility off the table. If Viv was happy being free of ball and chain, he could be the lucky guy to make her toes curl and her scream his name until she tired of him or he found someone else. He was just trying to live in the moment and enjoy it.

As he awoke to get ready for work to the water running in the shower, he decided to take advantage of their prime morning time. Vivienne’s silhouette shadowed raw beauty behind the frosted glass of his shower. He made sure not to be too quiet; the last thing he wanted to do was startle her enough to slip. “I told you the water bill had been high lately. We gotta conserve,” Grant joked as he slipped his boxer briefs off and tossed them on the floor. Carefully he slid the shower door open enough to let himself in, but was quick to close it so not much steam escaped. Smiling, he pulled Viv against him, chest to chest, his hardness pressing against her thigh. Grant dropped his face to Vivienne’s slender shoulder, lips dropping a few kisses to the silky, wet skin there. Firm palms skimmed up her stomach and to her chest, cupping full breasts.

“Good morning,” he husked, letting his thumbs brush over her pert nipples in tease. “Have you recovered from last night?” 

If she didn’t force herself out of bed--if she didn’t peel her hot body from Grant’s soft yet steel hard form--while he slept, she never would. Her body still tingling from the aftermath of the night before, she forced herself toward the bathroom, then twisted the knob to get the water running. Really, she should have kept the water frigid, if only to keep her mind from wandering, rewinding, but...oh gods, that wasn’t possible when every step made her ache with the memory of his touch.

A relationship was...too real, too dangerous, too likely to hurt them both. So for the past few weeks, Vivienne convinced herself that they were only having fun--and they were. Grant knew how to shut her up, how to stop her flirtatious taunts from sneaking off her tongue, how to transform those syllables into moans and screams. She slid her fingers over her folds, shivering as she cleaned away the lingering reminder of what they’d done the night before, her clit aching from the memory. Vivienne finally managed to teach Grant how to live in the moment, and now she was the only struggling; not with the past, with the future. With the possibility that she’d hurt him in the end, or even worse, that they’d stop, and she’d have to play pretend that she was okay with them just being friends. 

She sucked in a breath as Grant stepped into the shower, not surprised that he was already hard when her body still ached for his. She purred when he cupped her breasts, her nipples ultra-sensitive, hard peaks already diamonds beneath his thumbs. Vivienne pressed her chest forward, disappointed they weren’t bruised with his love bites this time around. The bruises and lingering pain were are a beautiful reminder of him, even when they were both working. 

The fact that she never stopped wanting him was the worst of it. She’d never felt desperate for someone. “Mmm. A bit. Unfortunately.” Recovery meant she was able to at least stand and get out of bed. Vivienne’s fingers trailed between them, tracing along his length. “Seems like you have.” 

@thcdarlingboy​

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 "𝚘𝚑"

PART 8: CAT BOYS 

... it’s late into the night and y/n is streaming with one of her new friends, sykkuno. running on caffeine and redbull is apparently not enough because she falls asleep on his shoulder 45 minutes into their cyberpunk gameplay. at that exact moment, twitter goes up in flames.

─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (because i was threatened by thirsty anons) ─── soc. media + written fiction!  ─── word count: 1.8k author’s note: here it is...what yall been asking for. literally had to add a new part for this but i loved this idea sm i couldnt just nOT NOT do it. i tried writing this with the same energy as the smau lmao so expect chaos as always. hope you enjoy it and as always lmk what u think! hopefully yall wont go too feral, but tbh thats prolly too much to ask for xx EDIT: srr for the fucky format tumbler dot com is being lame 

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous.   ҉   next.

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Such a back and forth continues for the better part of the day as you get ready. Corpse only whines a bit when you forget to text him back - you are packing, and your prestigious cat ears you bought from Amazon for 10$ deserve exquisite care - which only fuels your seemingly bottomless hunger for mischief, leading to you sneakily ignoring him more. When your phone lights up with a message, you giggle, giddy with excitement. Your laughter only gets louder and more erratic, to the point where Rae had busted down your door and threw her Hello Kitty plush at you - one you’d gotten her, mind you! - and told you to just “Shut the fuck up!”

Ungrateful. You know not everyone can appreciate your sense of humor, or stand your hyena like cackle, but that was uncalled for and you told her as much. Noting the mess your room is in (more than usual, that’s for certain), she leans onto the door frame, crossing her arms over her chest, pretty brown eyes twinkling curiously, “Where you off to?”

“So I had this idea-” You start, but are promptly shut down with a raise of her palm.

“Already know it’s a bad one.”

Insulted, and hurt, you clutch your heart. As if she had not mocked you enough today, “Rae...The hell, that’s so mean...” You mutter, face scrunching into a soft frown, “I only wanted to tell you what me and Syk thought of.”

“Oh?” Intrigued, she raises a brow, “Continue.”

“Gee, thanks for letting me this time.” You mumble, rolling your eyes, “So. We thought we’d stream together. The catch? In the same room! We’ll be playing Cyberpunk. Gotta cash in while the hype is still up.” You add, making her snort, “And, ya know, the whole cat boy business...We’ll be wearing matching cat ears. Admit it, I’m a genius.”

She’s quiet for a moment, mulling over your words; you can practically see the gears in her head turning. She glances around the room, then briefly at you, strangely apprehensive. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

Well, that is definitely not what you expected her to say. You figured it’d be more along the lines of you’d be one ugly cat. “Huh?” Is all you manage to stutter, “What do you mean?”

She gives you a look, one all people give when something is so plainly obvious, “Y/n. You do know the stans will go wild, right? And you do remember our conversation involving Corp-”

“Nope!” You exclaim cheerily with a bright smile to match. You don’t want to think about that. The relationship between you and Corpse is strictly platonic, and besides, seeing Twitter loosing their shit is always funny, and you never miss an opportunity to mess with your fans. Sykkuno is also a good friend, albeit a new one. This supposed flirting from Corpse’s end Rae deduced was nothing more than her projecting her feelings onto the situation. She always liked shoujo anime and was probably thinking one was happening right in front of her. Not a chance. Corpse was just being a friendly crackhead. Your energies mesh beautifully.

Like, beautifully in a strictly friend way. Absolutely nothing more than that.

She gives up, naturally, arguing with a wall would be more productive than arguing with you. You’re such a (Zodiac sign).

“Well,” She mumbles, ticking her head to the side, leaning off of the door frame and turning to leave, “Don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

Your grin melts as soon as she leaves. Glancing at your bag, you shove your last necessities in with newfound hesitance. 

Nothing bad will happen, right?

...Right?

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It is well past the generally set “appropriate” time to hang out, but since quarantine, what is appropriate anymore anyway? You’ve never been in Sykkuno’s apartment, but now that you’re here it’s...strangely him. Every corner seems tailored to his specific requirements. It’s cozy, and pleasantly warm - it’s a bit chilly in LA, as surprising as that is.

He’s even shyer than you remember him being. And a whole lot more awkward, but in an endearing way, a way that makes you want to laugh and try to reassure him that it’s just you and he has nothing to worry about. While you hung out only once, the history you share is rich and tender. From him following you on Twitter and subsequently prematurely ending your stream, to kidnapping a stray cat affectionately named Juan. His long lost brother, Juan (no the Second, just Juan), lives in your Minecraft server. 

His stream room is sadly bare. There’s an appalling lack of merch or fairy lights. Not even led-lights. It’s a good thing you brought your own. As you try to decided which color would be best - his signature lime green, reminiscent of his adorable Among Us astronaut, or, perhaps, mischievous violet? - he boots the game and tweets out a quick “streaming with y/n in ten mins! come one come all!” 

“You should probably tell your fans, too.” He mumbles, looking somewhere above your shoulder. You settle with cherry blossom pink. Glancing at him, you shrug.

“Ah, do it for me, please?”

“Oh!” He hiccups, “Uhm, I wouldn’t want to pry and I don’t know your password and-”

“It doesn’t have a password.” You had removed it, knowing something like this would happen. Bless your foresight, you did not want him to know it was demonspiitinmymouth. Before he could protest further, you rush to the nearest mirror to put on your cat ears and make sure they aren’t crooked. You look absolutely adorable. The cat boys in your dms will go feral. Hell, you might just go feral looking at yourself! Sykkuno is not ready. No one is. This will be a stream to remember.

When you return (with flourish of course), he’s anxiously fidgeting by his computer, his own little cat ears, one’s he wore for the Halloween stream, peaking out from his silky brown hair. You have to suppress a squeal. When he catches you gaze he gives the kindest, sweetest little smile.

“They, uh--” He points at you, then decides it’s rude to point, bringing his hand back to his lap, then clutching his mouse, lastly releasing a sound stuck between a chuckle and a wheeze, “suit you, uhm, a lot!” He finishes with a resolute nod, quickly spinning in his chair and away from you.

This is the reaction you desired. All is going according to plan. Is this what God feels like? If not, then you pity her. She’s missing out.

Taking a seat next to him - he had been gracious enough to haul you a spare chair from the kitchen - you draw closer, and he, instinctively, shrinks away with another nervous chuckle. 

“You have, uhm... I-I didn’t look!” He quickly chimes. You raise a brow, “Uhm, unopened messages? From Corpse? He texted you when I was tweeting! I didn’t mean to look, I’m sorry-”

Instantly, you recall the famous vine with the scandalous “daddy chill” line, though refrain from saying it aloud. You love havoc, but you’re not evil (Rae would ardently disagree with you, though). Instead, you just shrug, “’S fine, don’t worry. I’ll text him back later. Let’s start?”

He nods, but doesn’t look at you. Granted, you don’t think he glanced at you even once since you returned, “...Okay. Ready?”

“Ready!”

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You’re much too immersed into the game and Sykkuno’s twitch chat to even check what’s happening on Twitter, but your estimated guess is that everyone’s going crazy. The stream chat is unruly as well, but missing the signature Twitter spark. Most of the chaos is bravely lead by your fans. Sykkuno’s, much like the man himself, are too nice to scream so unabashedly.

Perhaps you excitement had been a bit too taxing, perhaps drinking 5 coffees and 2 energy drinks today and not enough water are to blame for the sudden drowsiness you’re feeling, but you can’t focus on the swimming chat or the abundance of cut-scenes at the starting point of the game. You steadily draw nearer and he, more composed in front of his audience, doesn’t react. About ten more minutes of hoovering by his shoulder and muttering soft commentary, and you feel yourself slipping.

The last coherent thought you have is a few choice words directed at caffeine itself for having the opposite effect of you at the worst time possible.

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You float in oblivion for perhaps ten minutes at best. Once you awake with a startle, you shower Sykkuno in shy apologies and he quickly reassures you that it’s fine and that he didn’t mind at all!

“Though,” He adds after a thoughtful pause, “not sure if it was very, uh, comfortable?”

His stream chat spams uwu and variations of similar kind. The stream continues for a few more hours before the both of you wish everyone a good night. 

While you planned on wreaking absolute havoc, this sudden falling asleep was unexpected. You pondered the consequences of such an innocent, unplanned act whilst ubering home, fearing to check your phone which by now was blowing up with not only Twitter notifications but also Rae’s angry messages that vaguely read “what the fuck y/n”. Within the past two hours she had left 57 messages on all platforms collectively, including 7 calls. 

Corpse’s last text was over three hours ago.

Now that’s strange. Worry festers quickly. Briefly glancing at your surroundings - the pretty glimmer of passing street lights, neon signs, familiar buildings - you decide that it’s time to check what kind of nuclear explosion you’ve caused.

Your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach as you scroll past the hundreds of tweets and mentions. Scan through Rae’s messages. 

You had failed to prepare ahead. Every explosion of such kind is followed by nuclear winter. And Corpse’s lack of messages feels especially cold.

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Not you smiling like a fucking idiot reading his last message! You shrink into the backseat, afraid the driver will accidentally look into the rear-view mirror and see you a bit too happy before asking questions. Good news? Yeah, but it’s not like it’s his any beeswax! In the words of Rihanna, just shut up and drive. 

This argument had not yet happened, but you’re preparing, just in case. 

As you think up of potential scenarios, your eyes drill into Corpse’s goodnight text. You’ve looked at it enough. Time to turn the phone screen off. Leave the app, at the very least. When the screen dims you instantly press on it to wake it up. This is embarrassing. Maybe the deadly amount of caffeine really did mess you up, big time. Your heart races in your chest, painfully almost. You feel a bit sick. Worst of all, you can’t stop smiling.

A notification from Rae makes you snap out of it. Ah, one more demon to deal with. 

However, before you talk to her, you really need to tell Twitter that you’re not with Sykkuno. And apologize to Sykkuno as well. 

At least Corpse doesn’t hate you.

Fucking hell, just exit the chat you idiot!

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tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[nejibaby]

Small Details

Pairings: Neji x Y/N

Summary: Neji was a man of few words, even more so with you, and when he sees you with Naruto in a compromising position, he has troubles expressing himself.

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: And I finally managed to finish this! It took me so long! Today, I offer you a flustered Neji... 👀 I hope y’all enjoy it because I may or may not have melted after writing this 😚

✨Photo taken from this post by @yul-is-sparkling ✨

Naruto was finally back after two years of training with Jiraiya. Being one of his closest friends, you were excited to meet him and to see for yourself how much he’s grown.

Naturally, you challenged him to a duel the first time you saw him again. It was kind of your thing with Naruto — competing with each other on who’s faster, stronger, better in ninjutsu, anything really. Mainly because Sasuke, who he often referred to as his rival, would rarely indulge him with such things, and you did. You were both competitive like that.

In no time, you were both alone on the training grounds. You could already tell how drastic his improvements were within the start of the battle.

You were in awe at how the Legendary Sannins could bring out the best in their apprentices. But despite not being trained by them, that didn’t mean you were lagging behind.

In those two years when Sasuke seeked Orochimaru for power, Naruto trained under Jiraiya, and Sakura learned from Tsunade, you were the only one in Team 7 who remained under the supervision of Kakashi sensei.

Kakashi sensei may not be a Legendary Sannin, but he was a formidable shinobi — one of the best during his generation even. However, truthfully, he infuriated you at first, not because of how late he always was — you were pretty used to it to the point that you don’t question him anymore about his whereabouts and he stopped coming up with excuses as to why he was late — but because there were times when he was too laidback.

Sure, there were moments when he was hands-on: teaching you different jutsus, lecturing you about certain concepts, informing you on what you should always look out for, drilling your body past exhaustion, and the like. But more often than not he would be saying something like, “Find it out yourself” or “I can’t exactly tell you how” as he leisurely sits on a tree branch while reading the stupid Icha Icha books.

You were dumbfounded and furious at first but when your initial annoyance subsided and you had adjusted to his teaching style, you flourished.

That’s why you could take on Naruto even after his training with Jiraiya.

What started as a serious duel between you and Naruto was reduced to playful banter the longer the fight dragged on. At one point, both of you would just tease each other while throwing kicks and punches halfheartedly.

Both of you had your guards down. That was a mistake on your part, because just as Naruto aimed to kick your face and you bent over backwards to dodge it, you slipped. You lost your footing all because of a rock situated near your right foot.

It was a rookie mistake.

Naruto was quick to notice that you were falling so he immediately grabbed ahold of your hand. The problem was he failed to pull you back up. So you ended up falling down with him. And somehow, he ended up with his arms on the sides of your head so he wouldn’t crush you as you were underneath him.

You were both shocked. You were just blinking at each other. It took awhile for the two of you to gather your bearings. When you did, you both immediately laughed out loud. Naruto moved his body so he was lying next to you as you both continued laughing your hearts out.

“What the hell was that, Naruto?!” You feigned exasperation. “You wouldn’t be able to save a fly if you tried.”

“At least I wasn’t the one making rookie mistakes like that,” Naruto shot back. “Plus I tried to help, that’s what matters.”

You snorted. “Yeah, right. You could’ve at least focused your chakra on your soles so we didn’t fall!”

“And you could’ve paid attention to your surroundings, Y/N!”

You bickered with each other as you stood up and helped Naruto get up. What the two of you didn’t know was that your boyfriend Neji had watched the whole incident.

Neji wasn’t really the type to get jealous. He’s a very understanding boyfriend. He’s aware that you and Naruto have been best friends even before he met you. He even knew about Naruto’s feelings for Sakura. However, any sane person wouldn’t want to see his significant other beneath someone else, right? Granted, it was an accident, but still… It was such a compromising position to find you in.

He made his appearance as you playfully punched Naruto in the gut.

You instantly noticed him approaching. Your smile widened even more at the sight of your boyfriend. “Neji!” You called, skipping your way towards him. You would’ve tackled him in a hug if Naruto wasn’t around.

He maintained his stoic expression as he greeted, “Y/N. Naruto.”

“Oi Neji, it’s been a while,” Naruto waved.

Neji only gave a curt nod in response.

You asked, “What are you doing here, Neji?” but just as you ended your question, the answer immediately clicked on your mind. “Oh my god, I’m sorry I forgot!”

Over your excitement of Naruto’s arrival, you forgot that it was a Tuesday. Tuesdays were your lunch dates and sparring sessions with Neji.

“It’s okay.”

“Hold on.” you told him and then faced Naruto. “Gotta go, Naruto! Bye!” you said as you grabbed Neji’s hand out of habit.

Neji flushed, not exactly expecting your action, but you didn’t notice because it was something that you’re used to doing, although not in the presence of someone else.

“See you later!” Naruto waved.

When Naruto was out of sight, you dropped Neji’s hand unconsciously. “Sorry, I forgot about lunch. What time is it? Have you eaten?” You asked Neji.

He quickly responded and told you he hasn’t eaten anything yet.

“Well then, let’s go. I’m starving.”

Neji and you walked side by side out of the training grounds.

“So…” you started saying.

Neji stared at you. “Hm?”

“How was your day, baby?”

He cleared his throat and looked away almost instantly. Very rarely would one find Neji flustered, but calling him “baby” always worked. He wasn’t quite used to the endearment and every time you addressed him as such with tenderness laced in your voice, he would blush. You use it all the time just to see his cheeks tinted pink. It was a cute sight.

“What’s wrong?” You playfully asked while trying to get into his line of vision.

He refused to meet your gaze until he regained his composure. When he did, he told you — in an impassive manner — what he had done in the morning before he went out looking for you.

Despite his expressionless face and his rather hushed tone, you listened intently to the words he was saying, the smile on your lips never leaving your face. Neji was a man of few words even until now that you were together so you made sure you paid attention every time he spoke, not wanting his words to go to waste.

He wouldn’t admit it to you but he loved that about you. You would remember even the little details of his stories, which in itself was a big deal considering you tend to forget a lot of things. You treasured his words, sentences, thoughts, ideas and plans, and kept them enclosed in your memory.

Neji loved that you focused on him. You made him feel like he was important and worthy, and that he mattered, in a completely different way than the others’ view of him.

The others only saw him as important because he was an asset both to the Hyuga clan and to Konoha. He only mattered to them because he has the strength and ability to protect them.

But you didn’t see him that way. You saw him as his own person — a man with a brilliant mind, a great moral compass, and a heart of gold. This was further confirmed when you told him that if his circumstances were different — if he was not a Hyuga or even a shinobi — you’d still fall in love with him as long as his character remained the same.

He knew you love him, there was no doubt about that. It was known; it was an irrefutable truth, an indisputable fact. But why did seeing you with Naruto trigger his insecurities that you had previously put to rest?

His mind was reeling, but he tried his hardest to be in the moment with you.

The thing was, he might have misread you a little. Because the attention that you gave him wasn’t solely focused on his words. In actuality, it extended to his actions and mannerisms as well.

This was how you knew that there was something that was bothering Neji today.

Unwelcome thoughts swarmed his mind, leading him to absentmindedly reach out to you. He was walking beside you closer than usual, with his hand on your lower back. While there was no doubt that he was listening to you when it was your turn to tell him about your day with Naruto, he had a faraway, vacant look on his face.

You may have missed the presence of a rock a while ago, but you certainly wouldn’t miss these small details about Neji.

These might come across as something normal for other people, but for someone like you who dedicated a lot of time admiring and memorizing every little detail of the certain Hyuga boy, it was easy to tell that something was on his mind from the way he was taking up a portion of your personal space. Almost as if his own restrictions were non-existent.

Normally, it would’ve been easier to confront him about it, but you were a shinobi, and if there’s something you learned from Kakashi sensei, it was that you have to gather more intel before actually making a move.

But you could only think of one way to confirm if there was something bothering your partner, and it was through his hair.

On regular days, Neji wouldn’t allow anyone to touch his hair, including you. But when there was something that was bothering him, or if he had a particularly rough day, he wouldn’t mind it if you threaded your fingers through his hair. In fact, he wouldn’t admit it, but he preferred it if you did that. It was something that calmed him down.

So while you continued telling him how your day went, you subtly angled your body towards him. Then you tentatively reached for the tips of his hair with your hand that was closest to him. You managed to grab a few strands of his hair between your thumb and index finger. You twisted them between your fingers.

You looked up to him to check if he was bothered by it, but it seemed like he didn’t mind at all. This certainly meant that his mind was elsewhere, despite the fact that he was nodding in the right parts of your speech and even correcting you when you used the wrong word to describe something.

You retracted your hand after coming up with your conclusion. You even stopped talking as you were thinking of what could’ve happened for him to be this distracted. Neji didn’t even notice you stopped talking mid sentence.

Somehow this just felt different from the times he was frustrated or anxious before, and quite frankly, you were worried.

By the time you had both placed orders and seated in a random restaurant, you decided to confront your partner. “So, Neji, baby, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

He choked on nothing after hearing your question. Was he really that easy to read? Or was it easy just because it was you reading him?

He cleared his throat and feigned ignorance, “What are y-you talking about?”

You opted to give him a pointed look instead of a verbal response.

He didn’t stare back, looking anywhere but you. Most times, Neji would face you head on until you conceded; with you, he was comfortable being stubborn and unyielding because it came without repercussions. But today, he wasn’t up for the challenge. And if you looked more closely, he was once again sporting a faint color on his cheeks.

You waited a moment for him to answer, or at least to look back, but it was to no avail. With a sigh, you said, with the softest tone you could muster partnered with a reassuring smile, “Would you let me know when you’re ready, at least?”

Surprisingly, Neji looked at you then. “It’s nothing… It’s just… something silly.”

You gently grabbed a hold of his hand. “Don’t tell me it’s silly, I know it isn’t if it bothers you, baby. You don’t have to tell me now if you aren’t comfortable yet, hmm? Just know I’ll be here to listen to you.” You gave him a genuine smile and a small squeeze to his hand before letting go.

Neji’s eyes hadn’t strayed from then onwards. He had to admit sometimes he would forget how incredibly kindhearted you were, even more so when it came to him. You always made sure he was comfortable. You never forced him into doing or saying things that he wasn’t ready to do or say. You allowed him to make his own decisions and respected them, something that rarely came from being a subordinate of Konoha and a member of the branch family of the Hyuga clan.

Life as a shinobi was sometimes constricting, but you were his breather from all that.

It was your turn to be bashful from his stare. You could feel your face warming up from the unexpected, scrutinizing gaze. “Neji, stop it.”

“What?”

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Stop being beautiful, then.”

The words that came out of Neji’s lips startled you. It wasn’t everyday he would actually use words to tell you you’re beautiful. The way he expressed his appreciation to your beauty would come in the form of fluttering kisses or gentle brushes on your body parts — coincidentally, or not, on parts where you feel the most insecure about.

Fortunately for you, the food came at the right moment, since you weren’t exactly sure how to respond to his unexpected compliment. You both ate in silence then, occasionally peeking at each other  — almost like how it was when you first started dating each other.

When you were done with lunch, you expected to take the route towards the training grounds like you both usually did, but Neji’s hand has taken solace on your back once again and this time with intent to guide you to a different direction.

You were confused but you followed anyway. “Where are we going?”

“To my place.” A pause. “Is that fine with you?”

“Sure” was all you could say. Admittedly, you were quite tired from the duel you had with Naruto earlier and you didn’t really have enough energy to spar with Neji, considering he never went easy on you.

By the time you had entered his place, he graciously offered his couch to you, as if sensing your exhaustion. You immediately plopped down on his couch after setting aside your footwear by his front door.

“Tired?”

“Very,” you mumbled.

He handed you a glass of water, knowing you weren’t quite fond of tea. He sat down beside you just as you thanked him and sipped on your drink.

Setting aside the glass, you leaned back on the couch, only to be welcomed by Neji’s arms. A small smile automatically crept into your lips from the gesture. You snuggled into him as a reflex.

It was moments like this with Neji that you treasured most. While you enjoyed tagging around with him and the rest of Team Guy on missions, you preferred spending time with him peacefully like this, without the imminent threat of danger looming over your heads. It was rather a rare occurrence, after all, for two shinobis like you both were.

Neji was first to break the comfortable silence. “I saw you with Naruto a while ago.”

“You did? When?” You excitedly asked while trying to pull away from his embrace to look directly to his face. But for some reason, he kept you in place, your cheek pressed to his neck. “Did you see me kick his ass? Like literally.”

“Yes,” he answered flatly. It was a response that sounded so… dry. Usually when you both talked about Naruto, there would be a fondness from his tone. “But… I also saw something else…” he trailed off.

You raked your mind, trying to remember what had happened earlier. Then the memory of falling down flashed on your mind, and suddenly you felt embarrassed for Neji having to witness such a mistake. “Oh no!” You jumped out of his grasp, startling him in the process. “You saw me fall down! That’s so embarrassing!” You covered your face with your palms.

“Well, yes… but—”

You snapped your head at the tone he used. He didn’t sound like he was going to tease you for your mistake, in fact, it kind of sounded like he was worried.

“I’m fine though, if you’re worried,” you offered, assuming he thought you got hurt from the fall.

“I’m glad you are not hurt,” he said. Not long after you noticed him visibly gulping.

You could tell there was something else in his mind, and whatever it was, you had a feeling it might’ve been the thing that was bothering him a while ago. You tried to come up with guesses as to what it could’ve been. As you recalled how the conversation started and considered how he was acting, a plausible answer popped into your mind.

“Are you perhaps… jealous?” You hesitantly asked. He was the first one to initiate this conversation so you were assuming he was ready to talk about it. Despite that though, you didn’t want to force him to talk so you carefully and reluctantly asked him. He was always allowed to drop the topic if he wasn’t comfortable and he knew that.

Neji cleared his throat as soon as the words left your mouth all the while avoiding to meet your eyes once again. “Maybe,” he almost inaudibly said.

You were surprised by his answer. It wasn’t always that Neji got jealous. The only time he was was when a stranger was blatantly hitting on you in front of him while you were on a mission together.

“It did not sit right with me seeing you in an… inappropriate position with someone else.” He explained. The tone he used sounded like the one he used with the Hokage when he was taking responsibility for something that went horribly wrong on a mission.

“Don’t make it sound like it’s wrong,” you said softly as you cupped his face. “You don’t have to feel guilty about feeling jealous. Your feelings are valid.”

The gentleness and warmth in your voice made his heart flutter. If this was a conversation with someone else, he was sure he was going to get teased for feeling this way, but it was with you, and you had always been different.

“I love you, Neji,” you said before you kissed his lips.

It was amazing how the three words you used that preceded his name could easily wipe out the jealousy that had brewed inside him. This was another testament of how well you knew Neji — not only did you know the small details about him, but you also know the right words to ease his worries.

[nastybuckybarnes]

In a Heartbeat  -  Six

Pairing: Fireman!Bucky X Reader 

Summary: You’ve always been careful with your heart. With your condition, you don’t exactly have any other choice. The last time you let someone in, you paid the price. A price you don’t plan on paying again. Until Bucky comes in and shatters your carefully crafted world.

Warnings: Fluff, Language, Implied Smut, Angst, Injuries, Angst,

Word Count: 2.9K

A/n: hi here’s the second last part! I hope you guys enjoy. I’m in a weird place mentally right now because there’s been so much going on in my family life that I have no idea how to process. But I hope you guys enjoy this because I really enjoyed writing it. We will have one more part and then this series will be finished!!!

Series Masterlist

~*~

The smell of coffee pulls you from your sleep.

Eyelids flutter open and you’re confused for a moment until you remember last night. A small smile spreads across your face and you stretch in Bucky’s bed, taking note of the sore spots on your body.

You push yourself to a seated position and take a look around the room.

Bucky’s gone, but you can hear him rummaging around in the kitchen.

You slowly leave the bed and walk to the bathroom, stopping on your way to pick up your discarded clothes.

After you’ve finished, you make your way to the kitchen, your heart filling with warmth when you see him.

He’s got his bare back to you as he prepares something, wearing nothing more than a pair of sweatpants.

“Morning,” you whisper, trying not to startle him. He glances over his shoulder and smiles at you. “Good morning.” You walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his torso and pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

He stops whatever he was doing and holds your hands, leaning into your touch and sighing.

“How’d you sleep last night?” He asks after a moment of silence, pulling a pan off of the hot element then turning around to look at you.

You smile up at him and he swears his heart melts.

You're so beautiful. Glowing and angelic in the early morning sunlight peeking through a partially opened window.

“Not too bad at all.” He smiles, leaning down to press a soft and sweet kiss to your lips.

“Yeah, same here. Got far more sleep than I should’ve, though,” he murmurs, trailing kisses down your neck. A soft sigh slips past your lips and your head falls back, granting him more access.

His hands find your hips and he hoists you up onto the counter, knocking a glass off and sending it shattering to the floor.

“Jesus!” You exclaim, jumping at the sound and hitting your forehead against Bucky’s. The two of you groan, the brunet’s eyes widening with fear.

“I’m sorry!” He exclaims, looking between the broken glass, your face, and your chest as if to see if your heart’s about to give out.

You smile softly at him and cup his cheeks gently, pulling his face up until he’s looking at you.

“It’s okay, James. I promise I’m not as fragile as you think. I can handle a few loud noises.”

He sighs and bumps his nose against yours a few times before lowering his head to the crook of your neck.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you. I worry about you, (Y/n).” You wrap your arms around his torso tightly, one hand finding its way into his hair to massage his scalp.

“I worry about you too. Of the two of us, I think you’re more at risk than I am.” He chuckles against your clavicle and shakes his head, pressing his lips against your skin while mumbling “it’s not a competition to see who’ll die first.” Then he pulls away to stand upright and look at you with those piercing blue eyes of his.

“But just because my line of work is dangerous doesn’t ever mean that I don’t worry about you.” You lean up and kiss him softly, ending the conversation as your lips move more passionately against his.

He pulls away after a long moment, eyes dark and lips kiss-swollen.

“You stay up here while I clean this up. Then... how about we take this to the bedroom?” You nod, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you watch his muscles flex while he cleans up the broken glass.

~*~

You sit in front of your apartment in Bucky’s truck, his hand in yours as the two of you talk about your heart.

“I’m not as fragile as you think I am, James,” you reiterate for the thousandth time. He sighs, thumb rubbing over the back of your hand.

“I just want you to be safe, doll. I want what’s best for you.” His words anger you far more than they should and you pull your hand from his grasp.

“I wish everyone would stop assuming that they know what I need. Everyone always thinks that they know what’s best for me but they don't! I know what’s best for me. I’m sick of being treated like a child because of my illness. I just want someone to take my side for once and let me be me and live my life the way I want to! Is that really so much to ask?!”

Your outburst has your heart beating hard and, as if sensing that, Bucky tries desperately to defuse the situation.

“Doll, I do have your side, I just-”

“No! That should be it! If you had my side you wouldn’t be justifying treating me like a child, James.” He frowns, reaching for your hand only for you to pull it out of reach.

“I-I’m just gonna go.” You leave his truck without another word, frustrated and flustered but not willing to go back on what you said.

He sits in front of your building, three little words on the tip of his tongue and absolutely flabbergasted with the way the day has taken a turn. Things started off so well this morning.

You rake your hands through your hair, glancing at your phone as it starts to ring.

You can’t talk to him right now. Maybe later, but not right now.

Half an hour later, Natasha is blowing up your phone too.

You don’t want to talk to them.

You feel like shit for blowing up on Bucky like that but you needed to get your point across. All your life you’ve been treated like a child, even into adulthood. Nat hovers around you like a mother hen and now Bucky’s doing the same.

It absolutely isn’t unreasonable of you to want them to treat you like an equal. As much as they say that you’re more than your illness, you know that they still see it whenever they look at you, and you absolutely hate that.

~*~

“Miss (Y/l/n), can I use the washroom?” You glance over at the little girl before smiling softly.

“Not until Tommy comes back, Sammy. We can’t have too many of you out at one time, okay?” She nods, thumb in her mouth as she resumes her colouring.

You’re doing your rounds, making sure all the students are doing well when the blaring of the fire alarm goes off.

A few kids scream in fear, but you shush them quickly, eyes finding Wanda’s as ice shoots through your veins.

You’re not supposed to have a fire drill today.

“Okay everyone, single file. Follow me. Leave everything where it is, okay? We’ve gotta get out just like we always practiced. Right outside onto the field, c’mon,” Wanda says, standing up and leading the way out of the classroom. You stay at the back, waiting until all the children are out of the room before closing the door and following after them.

You descend the stairs, dark clouds of smoke already filling the hallways and making kids cry.

The school is hectic and chaotic as all the teachers try to get their students to safety.

As you reach the field you stop dead in your tracks, looking at Wanda with wide eyes.

“Tommy’s in the bathroom,” you whisper, horror plain as day on your face as you turn back to the burning building.

Smoke is pouring out of a few open windows, and the last few people are trickling out, some of them crying, some of them laughing, thinking it’s a game.

Sirens fill the air but you’re already running back to the building, knowing he’d be far too terrified to leave the safety of the bathroom.

“(Y/n) no! Wait for the fire department!” She shouts, but it’s too late. You’re already back in the building, a wall of heat slamming into you.

You take a few careful breaths then take the stairs two at a time in your haste to find the boy.

Your heart is already beating far too fast, you know that, but you can’t stop. Not now. Even as the smoke rises and the air gets stuffier you continue up the stairs.

Tommy’s somewhere in the burning building and you’re not going to leave him.

“Tommy!” You shout, squinting as a cloud of black clouds your vision right as you reach the second floor.

You crouch down, pulling the hem of your blouse up to cover your mouth and nose. It’s both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, it prevents smoke inhalation, but on the other hand, it’s preventing you from getting the oxygen you need.

“Tommy!” You try again, pushing your way through the familiar halls until you get to the boys’ bathroom.

You hear faint crying and you swear your heart shatters in your chest.

“Tommy!” You push into the bathroom and find Tommy cowering against the far wall, tears staining his cheeks.

“M-Miss (Y/l/n)!” He scrambles to his feet and launches himself at you, hugging you around your waist and sobbing against your chest. You kneel down with him, hugging him tightly and rubbing his back.

“I-I didn't know wh-what to d-do and I was s-scared!” He cries, sniffling against you and holding onto you for dear life.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m here. You’re okay. But we need to leave. Do you remember what your daddy told you about fires? Cause I’m gonna need you to be my personal fireman, okay?” He sniffles a few times then nods, pulling away to wipe the tears from his eyes and take a few deep breaths.

“Alright. Let’s go.” You push out of the bathroom and are instantly hit with intense heat and the stench of smoke.

You push Tommy’s head down and as out of the smoke as you can and lift your other hand to shield your eyes as you try to find an exit.

The staircase has been engulfed by the fire, the flames devouring the only exit besides a window. But those are bolted shut to prevent any accidents.

Your chest tightens and your vision blurs, heart hammering much too hard in your chest. Your ears begin to ring and your knees buckle and you know you need your pills. Or at the very least, you need to sit down.

“The art room! It has the big windows and the heavy doors! Daddy says that heavy doors block out the smoke better!” You nod and follow him into the art room, collapsing on your knees as soon as the door is closed. You can’t breathe. The air just won’t find your lungs.

“C’mon miss (Y/l/n)! The window! We need to break it cause then they can hear us.” He grabs your hand and yanks with all his might, and his determination is enough to have you forcing yourself to your feet and banging on the window with as much strength as you can muster.

Tommy’s pounding against it with all his might, and you can’t help the tears that finally fall down your cheeks as your legs give out.

“Keep trying, Tommy,” you rasp, chest aching and heart pounding. He looks at you in complete fear, not sure what to do.

“Miss (Y/l/n)?” He asks softly, crouching down next to you as you cough softly. You take a few slow breaths, your heart stuttering in your chest.

“Keep going, Tommy. You’ve got this. You’re a fireman, just like your daddy and your Uncle Bucky.” Bucky. More tears fall down your cheeks at the thought of him.

Your eyes fall closed, head lolling to the side as the last of your energy leaves you.

You wish you could apologize to him. Tell him that you love him, that you appreciate everything he does for you.

The ringing in your ears grows until it’s deafening. Until the sound consumes you and pulls you gently into darkness.

~*~

The fire bell rings and the men are all on their feet, grabbing their gear and pulling it on as swiftly as they can.

“Rogers! I want you to sit this one out,” Chief Fury says, his arms crossed over his chest. The men all slow for just a moment before resuming their haste, Steve the only exception.

“What? Why?” He’s never been asked to sit out of a job before. Fury waits until the other men have piled into the firetruck.

“Now, it could very well be nothing but the call... it’s for the elementary school. I know your little one goes there and I can’t have you on the cal- Rogers!” Steve’s got his suit on and he’s in the truck in record time, jaw clenched hard and hands balled into tight fists.

The men are silent, having pieced it together and not wanting to argue with their captain.

Steve will take the heat from Fury after. All that matters is making sure his son is safe.

Almost as if realizing that there’s not one, but two people emotionally invested in this case, the eyes turn to Bucky. The brunet has his own eyes pinned between his boots, fingers of his flesh hand trembling slightly.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Sam whispers, his usual joking demeanour long gone.

The rest of the ride is silent, but as soon as they pull up to the school the men are jumping out and Steve is barking orders at them.

“Sam, you go make sure the building’s empty. Buck, you-” but the brunet is sprinting over to Wanda, a look of desperation on his face when he sees the tears on hers.

“Where is she?” He demands, his chest heaving and his entire world on the brink of collapsing.

“Sh-she went back inside to find Tommy. They never c-came back out.” He stumbles back a step, directly into Steve who waits impatiently for the news.

“She went in to find him,” Bucky whispers, the world around him going quiet as he turns and focuses solely on the burning building, searching for any possible sign of you.

Steve’s face falls, his heart crumbles and his whole world shatters.

“Tommy.”

The two race to the building only to be stopped by Sam and Clint.

“Entire entrance and staircase are up. There’s no way to get in there unless we break a window.”

Steve takes a few careful breaths then nods.

“Work on getting it as contained as possible. We’ve got at least two still inside.” Sam’s heart hurts for the blond as he races around the building like a chicken with his head cut off.

“Tommy!” He shouts, hands cupped around his mouth to amplify his voice.

“Wait, Steve! Look!” Bucky points to a spot on the side of the building where a second thinner stream of smoke is leaving the building, this one in a different direction than the others.

A second opening in the building.

The two are running to investigate, and Steve’s heart bubbles.

“Tommy!” The little boy is crying in the broken window, head completely out to suck in as much fresh air as he can.

“Daddy!”

“Hold on, Tommy! We’re gonna get you!” He drops his head to his radio and calls for the truck to be pulled around.

“Daddy, Miss (Y/l/n) won’t wake up!” The little boy cries, his face dirty with tears and ash.

Bucky can’t breathe. He thinks he might be sick.

He’s definitely going to be sick.

He stumbles away from the building, away from the people and anyone who can see him and collapses on his knees, dry heaving into the grass while the others pull the truck around.

Steve's up the ladder and at the window, telling his son to move out of the way so he can break the window further.

“C’mon Buck. We’ve got a job to do. C’mon.” Sam helps him to his feet and Bucky nods, grinding his teeth together in a pathetic attempt at hiding his tears.

“Sam! Come give me a hand!” Steve’s voice says through the radio. Bucky follows to the truck, mind numb, body numb, and ears ringing.

“She’s in here, but her pulse is sporadic. We’ve gotta get her out now.” That lights a fire under the brunets ass and he’s nearly throwing himself to the truck right as Steve starts climbing down, Tommy clinging like a koala to his back with one arm, the other wrapped in a sloppy sling.

The ambulances are ready, lights flashing and stretchers at the ready.

Steve rushes his son over, his oxygen mask pressed against the six-year-old’s face.

“Set him down, c’mon.” He does as instructed and takes a half-step back to allow the paramedics room to inspect him.

Bucky’s eyes move from his nephew up to the window where Sam disappeared, his heart in his throat as he finally sees movement.

Sam emerges, his oxygen mask on your face and your limp body strewn over his shoulder.

A familiar head of red hair is pushing a stretcher right to the ambulance, ready to take your body as soon as Sam’s down.

He lays you down carefully and Bucky’s immediately at your side, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Buck, give us some space, okay?” Nat whispers, her voice fully professional, though he can see the pain in her eyes. He takes a deep breath but nods, stepping back and watching as you get rolled away.

A hand is on his shoulder and he glances over at the person.

“C’mon. We’ve got a fire to put out.”

[cherienymphe]

Joke’s On You (Joker x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON, NON-CON, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, knife play, blood play, murder, violence, 

IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DNI

➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers​}

summary: you’re a part time thief who keeps getting in the Joker’s way. What starts out as rivals quickly turns into something hot and heavy, and before you know it, you’re J’s girl. Whether you want to be or not {based off of this headcanon}

~

The first time you ever come face to face with the Joker, the clown king himself, is during one of the first night’s you first started to execute your grand idea. You went through a klepto phase when you were a kid, but you never expected you’d return to it, and definitely not on a bigger scale like this.

It wasn’t like you were homeless or right on the poverty line. You had money, quite a bit in fact. One of the perks of being a stripper in the most popular club in Gotham, but there came a certain thrill from stealing from the rich in this city. Sure, you took their money on the stage, did everything you could to make them empty their pockets, but taking their money right out from under their nose was different.

You’re not sure when you came up with the bright idea, but you knew that if you wanted to keep this up and stay out of prison, you had to get smart about this. That was where the Joker came in. That clown ran this city, and you knew that with him around, no one would dare to even notice you. If you made your hits the same time as him, you could get in and out to no one’s knowledge.

It was a solid plan.

Until it wasn’t.

You almost ruin his plans to send a bank up into flames, and your eyes briefly meet his cold green ones before you’re taking off. You half expected to hear the sound of gunshots, even expected to get hurt or worse, but you can hear him telling his thugs to stand down. He doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by your presence, no real threat, and you’re unsure if you should be offended or not.

You had never seen the man himself up close before, and you’re shocked to realize that he’s taller than you imagined. More intimidating than you imagined. Despite the fact that he barely paid you any mind, you can’t help feeling like he’s going to break into your apartment and slit your throat. You’re a petty thief, nothing like the big criminals in this city, and your run in with him spooks you. It takes a long time for you to fall asleep that night.

You quickly put it behind you though and tell yourself that you just have to be more careful from here on out. It soon becomes obvious that that’s easier said than done. You hadn’t meant to get in his way when he was taking the mayor hostage. It was an honest mistake when you almost kept him from breaking some other danger to society out of Arkham, but the nail in your coffin finally comes when you do prevent him from robbing a bank truck.

You barely ducked in time as a bullet came flying past your head. You’re shaken up, but you manage to force yourself to get the hell out of there before the cops showed up and before the Joker took another shot. You should have known that he was going to be expecting you. The Joker was a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them.

You walk right into a trap, and you’re in the bank vault, hands full of money when you feel a sharp tug on your hair. You swallow down a yelp as you’re yanked back into a bare chest, and your eyes widen when a hand curls around your throat. You may not be the best villain in the world, but you’re one that can defend yourself, and the walls of the vault shake as you fight back.

He’s stronger than he looks, but you’re stronger than you look, and you both realize this when he has a gun pressed to your forehead while you have a knife at his throat. Your heart is hammering inside of your chest because not only are you once again face to face with the Joker himself, but he’s seconds away from killing you. You feel like you’re about to throw up, and he’s clearly amused.

He tilts his head at you, red lips parting to reveal a shiny grin, a laugh bubbling in his throat as he presses the barrel of the gun even further into your skin. His purple coat hangs off of him, pale chest heaving and that’s how you know that despite his grin, he’s irritated. Maybe even mad.

“…and what do they call you?”

His voice is deep, and that takes you by surprise. A lot of things about the infamous criminal are taking you by surprise.

“What does it matter? You’re going to kill me anyway, right?”

He hums, stepping closer with a sneer.

“I haven’t quite figured that one out yet…maybe I will when you tell me your name…”

“Well, I haven’t quite figured out what I want to be called,” you honestly told him.

No one but him and his goons knew about you, so you had never counted on anyone else knowing about you either. The thought of an alias never crossed your mind.

“Trying to steal my shine or something? You want to be the big dog around here?”

“Oh, please,” you scoff, and if he had eyebrows, you were sure he’d be raising one at you right now with the look he gave you.

He narrowed his eyes, and in one movement, he ripped your mask from your eyes, making them widen. He looked down his nose at you, taking in your all black attire before finally resting his eyes on your face.

“…or don’t tell me…you’re one of those girlies who thinks she can run around with me?”

You frowned at him, and he continued.

“I take it you’re a big fan.”

His tone was mocking, and you had the urge to spit in his face, but you knew that would surely put a bullet in your head, so you simply rolled your eyes.

“Hardly. With you around, no one will even look my way. Your taste for the dramatics allows me to stay below the radar,” you told him.

He hummed at that, tilting his head from side to side as he weighed your explanation in his mind.

“That’s smart, and I gotta hand it to ya, I didn’t think you were smart.”

Your frown deepened at his backhanded compliment, but it was quickly wiped from your face when he tightened his hold on his gun, and your eyes widened.

“Smart, but not smart enough to stay out of my way-.”

He was interrupted as the building shook, and you both turned as gunshots reached your ears. While he was distracted, you slipped out of his grip, ducking in time to miss a bullet before turning the corner. A recognizable shadow passed over the walls, and you ducked into a nearby hallway just as the winged vigilante himself met the Joker as he stepped into the hall.

The air hitting your face reminded you that your mask was gone, and you quietly made your way to the back exit as the sound of fighting and gunshots grew fainter. You released a sigh of relief when you made it outside, and although you didn’t have anything to show for your excursion, at least you had your life.

A thin layer of sweat clings to your skin as you step down off of the stage, feet aching in your heels. A coworker of yours winks at you as she takes your place on the stage, and you wish her luck. Customers were being a bit stingy today, and considering your last heist granted you with nothing, your lack of cashflow today had you more annoyed than usual.

Sure, it was a Tuesday afternoon, but it was still the hottest club in Gotham. Customers of all types of backgrounds frequented the place, and although the old money crowd practically lived here, you had a love hate relationship with their kind. They tended to be the stingiest with their money despite having more than you could ever dream of.

“What time are you off?”

You turned to another girl who worked at the place, Mandy, and threw her a grim look.

“12.”

She grimaced, blue eyes filled with pity as she shook her head.

“Sheesh. Well, that’s what happens when you’re the best dancer in this place,” she said with a shrug. “Your demand is high.”

“High demand and low pay. What a treat,” you sarcastically replied.

She chuckled, but she quickly swallowed it down, eyes glancing past you. The club was already loud, but there seemed to be an uptake in noise, and you turned to find the cause. You froze where you stood, eyes wide and lips parting at the group of people who just stepped into the place.

All of the men varied in size and shape, all dressed in black as they made their way inside like they owned the place. You supposed that in a way they did. Anyone following the footsteps of the Joker probably felt like he could get away with anything. The man in question led the bunch, strutting past patrons with a dark look in his eye, green hair contrasting against his dark red shirt.

You quickly turned back around, squeezing your eyes shut as Mandy let out a low whistle.

“I haven’t seen him step foot in here in forever,” she commented.

You looked to her with a confused frown.

“What?”

“Oh, yeah. You’ve only been here for what, half a year? The Joker used to come in here all the time. They’d get a bit rowdy but what is that when he’s the highest paying customer?”

She shrugged, reaching for a tray of drinks, completely unaware of your internal dilemma. It was almost time to get back on stage.

“Have fun,” she purred, walking past you.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to calm down as you stewed over what you should do. Sure, you were a thief in your spare time, but you couldn’t lose this job. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t walk out of here, so you straightened your shoulders and made your way back to your stage.

You kept an eye out for pale skin and green hair, and you were thankful to find him far on the other side of the room. He and his crew were occupied by another dancer, Mandy serving them drinks. You were thankful and carefully stepped onto the stage.

As usual, you attracted a nice sized crowd, and you made sure to keep your face turned away as you moved around the pole. You were pleased to find that this crowd was more generous with their money, but your satisfaction was short lived when your turned to find your boss gesturing for you to come off the stage. You were confused but did so anyway. He nervously scratched his dark beard as you approached, and you had a sinking feeling in your gut for some reason.

“What is it?”

He grumbled and jerked his head towards the other side of the building, and you hesitantly looked over his shoulder. The Joker’s goons were having a good time tossing money at the dancer on stage, a few of them clearly drunk. The green-haired man, however, wasn’t partaking in the festivities. His unreadable gaze was focused on you, and your heart sank when he didn’t break the stare. You were forced to when your boss spoke.

“He wants a private session with you,” the older man mumbled, and you’d be dumb to miss the fear and concern in his voice.

You internally cursed.

“You’re kidding…”

“…’fraid not. He was very clear in his…request,” he responded.

You both knew that it wasn’t a request. The Joker never requested anything, and you briefly closed your eyes, positive that this was going to be your last night on earth. Your boss placed his hand on your shoulder, gaze sympathetic…and pitying.

“Just do what he says, alright?”

He wasn’t just telling you that to make more money, but to keep you from becoming the clown’s next victim. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that your fate was already sealed. With a nod, you strutted past him and made your way to the other side of the room. The Joker’s expression didn’t change as you approached him, and you nervously swallowed. His cold green eyes seemed to follow the gesture, and you took a deep breath.

“Someone request a private room?”

Again, he said nothing, simply tilting his head to the side as his trailed his eyes over your scantily clad form. Some of his posse was still enamored with the dancer before them, but the rest had turned to not so discreetly eye you. They all looked away when the green-haired man stood, and your eyes fell to the sliver of skin that peeked through the top of his shirt, unable to hold his gaze.

“Right this way…”

You didn’t hear his footsteps, but you could feel his presence behind you as you led the way to the back where the private rooms were located. The walk was quiet, thick with tension, and you wondered if it was too late for you to start saying your prayers.

You went in first, blinking at the red glow of the room that came from the neon lights. You were shaking, stomach churning as the door clicked shut behind him. You turned to tell him to get it over with when his hand wrapped around your throat, forcing you to swallow your words. You let out a pained squeak, eyes watering, but his lips swallowed any other noise you threatened to make.

Your eyes were wide as he roughly kissed you, shock coursing through you while his mouth moved against yours. You stumbled back in your heels, but he quickly followed, teeth nipping at you so violently that you tasted blood. You wanted to tell him that this wasn’t that kind of club. This was not in your job description and was not allowed, but you remembered your boss’ words and wondered if he knew that this was what the man wanted?

Even still, you couldn’t go through with this, but his tattooed hands were ripping at your attire before you had the chance to voice what you wanted to say. Your lips were finally free to tell him off, but the only thing that came out was a yelp when his teeth sank into your shoulder. The pain you felt was quickly overshadowed by the pleasure that warmed your stomach when his fingers brushed over you.

You pushed against his chest, but his other hand grabbed your wrist, spinning you around so that your back was pressed to his chest. It happened so quickly that you didn’t have time to ponder what was happening until he was already inside of you. One hand was tangled in your hair, face pressed into the seat of the sofa as broken moans escaped your trembling lips.

His free hand was pressed into the skin between your shoulder blades, holding you down while his hips snapped into you over and over again. He was far from gentle, but every harsh stroke only seemed to stroke that fire inside of you. Your lashes were fluttering as he thrust into you, eyes rolling while you tried to make sense of everything.

You could feel his nails pressing into your back as he pinned you down, and your own scraped against the fabric of the couch while choked moans climbed out of your throat. This was far from how you expected your day to go. After all, it wasn’t that long ago that this man was trying to kill you. You fluttered around his unrelenting cock and tried to remember why that was a bad thing.

He let out what sounded like a growl above you, the fabric of his pants pressing into your skin as he ground against you, and his hand in your hair moved to the back of your neck just as the tightening in your stomach snapped. You came around him with an embarrassing scream, going limp beneath him as he fucked you through your climax, diving headfirst into his own.

You collapsed the minute he let you go, vision blurry and throat sore as you heard him zip his pants. You were still shaking, and he was already gathering himself together like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just fucked you delirious. You moved to stand, ready to give him a piece of your mind, but you collapsed back onto the couch.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you heard a low chuckle in his throat. Either way, you didn’t get to ask him because the sound of the door slamming shut reached your ears seconds later.

The next time you ran into that stupid clown, you took great satisfaction in striking him square in the face. You didn’t care that he was surrounded by his band of hired muscle nor that you were currently standing in the middle of a jewelry store, alarm blaring in your ears almost painfully.

He gestured for the men around him to continue looting the place, seeing as they had paused to take in the scene. You knew they would have killed you without hesitation had he told them to. You glared at him as he grinned at you, bat perched on his shoulder.

“We’ve gotta stop running into each other like this,” he lowly said.

“That was for the last time we ‘ran into each other’,” you sneered. “I don’t care who you are, you don’t get to-.”

“Consider it my way of letting you get off easy.”

He chuckled at his play on words, but you weren’t amused in the slightest.

“Get off easy? Are you even crazier than everyone thinks?”

His grin was gone in a flash, and he stepped towards you, tapping his bat against his shoulder as he leaned in. His lips were parted as his eyes bore into your own, and you forced yourself to stand your ground as the scent of him invaded your nose.

“If you recall,” he slowly began. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

You swallowed, jaw clenching as he tapped his finger against your nose.

“The plan was to put a bullet in that pretty little mouth of yours. Does that…ring any bells?”

You pressed your lips together, glancing away as he let out a breathy chuckle.

“Fucking you brought me more satisfaction than killing you ever could,” he deeply said.

You felt heat rise to your face, and he tilted his head, lips brushing against your own as he spoke.

“So…I suggest you keep me satisfied…”

His coat flew behind him as he spun away, stomping towards one of his men to bark orders at them. Anger and humiliation coursed through you as you stomped outside, and you narrowed your eyes as the sound of police sirens drew nearer. With a sneer, you grabbed the knife in your holster before slashing the tires on his van.

That kept you satisfied throughout the rest of the night, but you paid for it dearly the next day at the club. This time, he hadn’t even waited until you were in the room. His hand had curled around the back of your neck as soon as you got to the door, forcing you inside as soon as he opened it.

You had stumbled in your heels, falling to your knees, and he was there before you could even rise. His hand was on your neck the entire time he slammed into you, the carpet scraping against your back. You could hardly breathe, let alone moan as he had his way with you, and you knew that he was genuinely angry this time, and you wondered how he managed to escape the police.

He was punishing you for your little stunt, but God did you love it. Your hands fisted into his bright red button down as he slid into your soaked walls, trying to pull him closer. You heard him hum every time you clenched around his throbbing member, the sound of your arousal reaching your ears. You should have been embarrassed at how wet you were, but the Joker seemed to enjoy it just fine, and besides. You saw no reason to pretend.

Like the last time, he was righting himself as soon as he was done while you lay on the floor, still trying to catch your breath. You let out a soft chuckle as he slammed the door behind him, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t even able to talk in the morning.

This little game between the two of you became something of a regular occurrence. You’d make your hits when and where he did his to avoid exposure, and sometimes things would go wrong on his end. Some mishaps were genuine accidents, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the way he’d take out his frustration on you.

He fucked you like an animal, and you loved it because sometimes you couldn’t even form words afterwards. And best of all, he wasn’t trying to kill you anymore…just your vagina.

One day, he didn’t leave as soon as he was done. He stood over you, watching as you fought to control your breathing. When you realized that he wasn’t making any moves to leave, you peeled your eyes open to look up at him from your place on the couch.

“…what?”

You nervously sat up as he dug into his pocket, eyes widening when he pulled out the shiniest bracelet you’d ever seen. He dangled it in front of your face, a low hum escaping him as you admired it.

“Saw this shiny little number in the display. It had my little thief written all over it…”

He jerked it away when you reached for it, so you reached higher, gasping when he closed his free hand around your wrist. You watched as he snapped the expensive piece of jewelry around your arm, and you brushed your fingers over it the minute he let you go.

You were forced to pull your eyes away from it though when he harshly gripped your chin, pulling your head up so that you were looking at him. His green eyes bore into your own, face unreadable as he pressed his red lips together.

“You like it, doll face?”

You couldn’t hold back your grin, and you nodded.

“I love it,” you told him, unaware of the implications behind the gesture.

You started showing up to work with all kinds of new things. A new pair of earrings, a necklace that wasn’t that before, even some new heels that didn’t hurt your feet as much. You figured it was just a perk of fucking the king of Gotham, of keeping him satisfied.

You didn’t know that it went beyond mere satisfaction and thankful gestures.

It was a late night, or early morning depending on how you looked at it. The club was almost at its peak, the early hours of the morning being your busiest. You hadn’t seen J in a few days, but it wasn’t unusual. The man was basically running an empire.

You were servicing a client, a regular who could never stick to one dancer. He had a habit of hopping between the ladies at the club, and it looked like this week, he’d chosen you. The loud music filled your ears as you slid your hands over his shoulder, thighs brushing his as you danced on him. The bass from the music made your body vibrate, and your eyes fell closed as you fisted one of your hands into your hair, chest pushed forwards.

The man had already given you a handsome sum of money, and you knew that if you put on your best show, there was plenty more where that came from. The loud music prevented you from hearing the rise in voices as a new patron entered the club. It also prevented you from taking note of the worried chatter that had only just started to emerge, but it didn’t drown out the sound of a gunshot that you flinching.

However, you didn’t open your eyes because of the gunshot. You opened your eyes at the feel of droplets landing all over your face, hair, and clothes. You faintly registered the sound of screams surrounding you as people fled from the club, tripping over one another. You stumbled back, frozen in place as you stood up straight, hands raised in front of you as you stared at your dead customer in shock.

He was dead.

That much was more than clear, but you were having a hard time wrapping your head around it. Heavy footsteps slowly made their way over to you, and you hesitantly looked over, terrified eyes connecting with familiar green ones. His eyes were wild and crazed, green hair pushed back away from his face, gun swinging back and forth on his finger. He looked good in his all white suit, not a spot of blood on him.

You wished you could say the same.

“Are you insane?” you screamed, legs trembling.

“Well, that’s what they tell me.”

You frowned at him as he threw his head back and cackled, and you shook your head, fighting to clear it.

“Why did you do that? What’s wrong with you?”

He abruptly stopped laughing, slowly lowering his head to gaze at you. His lips parted into a mocking grin.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? I leave town on business for a few days, and I come back to find my girl practically screwing some punk for the whole club to see,” he slowly said, voice low and threatening.

Your anger kicked you into gear, and you stomped towards him, a frown on your face.

“I am not your girl, and even if I was…this is my job! You know this is my job-!”

Your words were cut off, and you winced as he tightened his hold on your neck. Your feet were barely grazing the floor as he walked forwards, forcing you back. You dug your fingers into his arm, hitting at him with your free hand, but he acted as if you weren’t even fighting back.

“Those nice earrings you’re wearing says you’re my girl…”

Your stomach churned as you began to realize the serious meaning behind his gifts.

“…that pretty little bracelet on your arm says you’re my girl…”

You looked around in fear, realizing that the club was completely empty save for you, the Joker, and his thugs. You kicked at him as he forced your back onto the stage, his firm body pressing down on yours. His hold was still tight, and you felt tears spring forth as you fought to breathe.

“…and I say you’re my girl. Understand?”

You gave a shaky nod, but it wasn’t enough for him. He lifted you by the neck before slamming you back down, making you wince, and a slow grin spread along his face, revealing his shiny teeth.

“I’ve got a whole lotta toys, sweetheart. I earned those toys. I took those toys. Those toys are mine…”

You watched as he pointed his gun at the dead man still slumped in the chair.

“…and I don’t like people touching my toys.”

You didn’t get a chance to ponder on this turn of events before his lips were harshly pressing against yours. He slammed the gun down next to your head, hands pulling at your attire, and the tears finally spilled over as you fought against him. You weren’t alone, and this was a new level of humiliation that you weren’t okay with.

A man was dead. In fact, you were still covered in his blood, and the Joker’s men were just behind him, intently listening to everything, no doubt. His grip was harsh as he took hold of your wrists, slamming them down beside you. He let one go to grab his gun, pressing it into your lips as you shook.

“You gonna be a good girl? Or do I have to use this again?”

His voice was calm despite the violent implications behind his words, and you shakily shook your head.

He was rougher with you than he had ever been before. Biting you, choking you, and holding you far too tight. Part of you felt like it was done on purpose, not only so you’d get the idea, but so that the rest of his crew would get that you were his too. You cried as he pressed your cheek down onto the stage floor, hips snapping against your backside while harsh grunts left his lips.

You couldn’t handle staring at the Joker’s latest victim while he forced himself into you, so you squeezed your eyes shut. His other hand dug into your hip so harshly, you knew it was going to leave a bruise. As the minutes drew on, it seemed like his ministrations were becoming rougher, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say the sound of your sobs were egging him on.

His grip on your hair when he came had more tears springing to your eyes, and you flinched when his lips brushed your ear.

“Clean yourself up…”

Having only been half on the stage, you collapsed to the floor when he let you go. Your hair and makeup were a mess, and you miserably stared up at him through tear-filled eyes as he tucked his shirt back into his pants, swiftly pulling on his white suit jacket.

“…the cops will be here soon, and you gotta pull yourself together. Huh, doll face?”

He forced your head back as he gripped your chin, and you reluctantly nodded. He roughly dragged his thumb over your lips, smearing what was left of your lipstick before taking his leave, leaving you alone with one dead body, and one bruised one.

You shuffled upstairs, arms aching and eyes tight as you made your way to your apartment. It had been weeks since you’d been back to the club. Your boss, someone you were ever grateful for, told you to come back when you were ready. After all, you’d had someone’s brains blown out right in front of you…on you.

You were fortunate that no one stuck around to see J’s possessive display of ownership, so no one knew what his impromptu murder was really about. Everyone speculated that the customer had crossed the Joker in some way, a business deal gone wrong, but only you knew the truth. Only you knew that the man’s only crime had been paying for your time.

You took a break from stealing from the wealthy too. Not only did you lack the energy, but you couldn’t chance running into the Joker. Had you known what all of those gifts had meant, you never would have accepted them. You didn’t want to be the Joker’s. The last girl who got seriously tangled up with him had ended up almost crazier than he was.

Granted, you heard Harley Quinn was doing better these days, but God. Look how long it took her to get there? The thought of telling him to his face that it was over was a scary one, so you settled for just hiding away in your apartment. He was the Joker, a man who had a lot on his plate, and like he’d said, you were a toy to him. There were plenty of toys out there, and he could easily find another.

You dropped the groceries to the floor as soon as you made it inside, and you groaned as you straightened. Your shoes clicked along the floor as you made your way through your dark apartment. You turned on the kitchen light so that it would be on when you returned, and you made your way through your living room, looking forward to getting out of these clothes.

However, when you turned on the light in the living room, you were startled by the sight of a familiar green-haired villain standing in the corner like some statue. You barely swallowed down the scream that bubbled in your throat, and your eyes were wide as you took him in.

He was wearing a tux, a nice one with a white bowtie and a matching boutonniere. His hair was slicked back, and you weren’t sure where he came from, but you wanted him to go right back.

“I was enjoying a night out on the town…taunting Batsy as I like to do…”

He walked away from the wall as he slowly begun, cold eyes roaming over your apartment.

“…when I realized that I hadn’t seen my little thief for days. Weeks even.”

“What are you doing here?”

He didn’t respond, instead opting to make his way around the living room, running his gloved hands over your furniture. You didn’t realize that he was gradually closing the circle, nearing you.

“You haven’t been at work. You haven’t been in my face while you ruin my plans. You’re not hiding from me…are ya, doll face?”

You clenched your jaw, swallowing down your fear as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I’m not hiding from you. We’re just through,” you told him.

He froze, glancing over his shoulder at you before continuing to look around.

“Did you hear me? You and I are done. Take your jewelry back, take everything you gave me and leave,” you continued.

He continued on as if he hadn’t heard you, and you stomped towards him.

“I’m serious, J! Do I need to call the police?”

That made him turn, and he wagged his finger at you like you were a misbehaving child.

“Careful,” he purred. “…because I personally know a certain thief they’d love to be informed about.”

You frowned, swallowing before pushing past him.

“I don’t care. At least in jail, I’ll be away from you-.”

You were cut off by your own scream, reaching for his hand as he pulled on your hair, forcing you away from the phone. He pulled you against him, and your eyes widened when he pressed a knife against your cheek, a hair’s width away from your lips.

“You have no agency in this arrangement.”

He threw you to the floor, and you scrambled away from him, nails scraping along the wood as he pulled you back. He cut your clothes away with ease, the torn shreds falling to the floor to leave you bear before him. The knife that grazed along your skin kept you from screaming as he undressed, but you did wince when he pressed it into your thigh, like a warning of what could come.

He took you behind the couch first, holding your thighs so tightly that the skin burned when he finally let go. Your table was next, but unfortunately, it didn’t withstand his rough treatment. The wall shook as he fucked you against it, every thrust rattling the pictures you had hung up to make this place a tad cozier.

Broken glass and broken pieces of wood littered the floor by the time he forced you into your bedroom. His knife remained in between his fingers the whole time he fucked you against your sheets. Your scalp burned from his harsh hold, and your throat hurt every time you swallowed, and you just knew that you’d wake up with finger shaped bruises in the morning. His deep voice was a constant in your ear, calling you ‘his little thief’, tsking at you like you were a confused child, telling you how much he was going to straighten you out.

When you clenched around him for a final time, your legs were thrown over his shoulder while your hands were pinned above your head by one of his. His free hand had fun cutting little nicks into your skin, greedily licking up the blood as tears continued to dampen your cheeks. He continued to push himself into you even after he came, and when he finally pulled out, your legs fell to the bed, chest heaving with shallow sobs.

“Now, wasn’t that a whole lotta fun?”

You glared at him as he sat up, a thin layer of sweat clinging to his fair skin, and your eyes traced the ink that decorated him. His green hair was in disarray, a smug grin on his lips as he pushed the strange colored locks away from his face. You could hardly even move, and you feared that attempting to would hurt worse.

You watched as he leaned over to his discarded pants, pulling out some sparkly piece of jewelry that you couldn’t care less about. You swallowed as he held it up, nearing you.

“…and here I was out shopping for something to compliment those new earrings, and you’re talking about leaving me. That’s a bit rude, but I’m willing to look past it.”

More tears spill over as he slides it around your neck, and it feels more like a noose than a necklace.

“You look like a work of art,” he says, lips brushing your cheek. “…all pretty and marked up by yours truly.”

His hair tickles your face, and he slowly leans away, dragging his fingers over your lips. You wince when he roughly grabs your jaw, pressing his fingers into a tender spot that you know is already forming a bruise.

“Now, I’ll be back in a couple of hours, so don’t do anything stupid.”

He tightened his grip at the end of his sentence, and you flinched. He grinned at you as he lightly patted his other hand against your cheek, grin widening when you recoiled.

“Let’s not do anything like that again, alright, sweetheart?” he purrs. “I’d hate to have to really hurt ya.”

~

tags: @harryspet @sherrybaby14 @darkficreposter @xoxabs88xox  @opheliadawnwalker3 @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @readermia @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @buckybarnesplumwhore @quaksonhehe @nerdygirl8203 @mandiiblanche @cocoamoonmalfoy​

[cinnaminsvga]

🌷 social media au where y/n posts an advertisement looking for a new place to stay that is closer to campus, causing seven upperclassmen to make it their mission to recruit her into their dormitories 🌷

A/N: THIS TOOK FOREVER AND I KINDA RUSHED IT AT THE END BUT HOPEFULLY IT MAKES SENSE?? anyway, yoongi didn’t do anything stupid (depending on your definition of stupid) so no need to worry about him being cringey,,, i spared you all from the secondhand embarrassment but i won’t be so kind next time!! anyway... enjoy || W.C. 3.8K

prev // part 11 // next masterlist here.

By the time Seokjin’s phone begins to ring, Yoongi can already feel the dread settle deep inside his bones. The familiar coil of anxiety tightens around his throat like a vice, and Yoongi has to remember how to breathe to keep himself from fainting like a corseted Victorian lady. 

“Well, that must be her!” Seokjin chimes, promptly declining your call without a glance. Yoongi catches a glimpse of your contact photo anyway: it’s an unflattering angle of you from below your neck, giving the illusion of a multitude of chins. If it were any other time, Yoongi might have smiled like a lovesick fool. 

“Don’t you dare let her in here,” Yoongi seethes. He tries to sound menacing, but the effect is severely diminished by how badly his voice cracks. He tugs at Seokjin by the sleeve, but the older man refuses to budge. “Hyung, I’m serious. I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Are you done live-tweeting your confusion now? Finally got the memo? I always knew you were a smart boy,” Seokjin laughs, patting Yoongi on the shoulder with his tomato sauce-covered tongs. “Since we’re on the same page now, why don’t you change clothes while I finish cooking? I know your entire wardrobe is composed of the free t-shirts you got from job fairs, but it would do well to wear a clean, unstained shirt.”

Yoongi swipes at him, hissing like the catboy that he is. “You’re the one who wiped shit on me, asshole. And yes, I figured out what you are trying to do. You think you’re so slick, but I know that you’re just trying to embarrass me in front of Y/N!”

Seokjin shrugs. “It isn’t like I’m trying to be slick. I embarrass you all the time. Besides, I’m setting you up on a date with the love of your life! You should be thanking me, if I’m being honest.”

Yoongi stammers, his jaw dropping in shock. “Love of my–?”

Seokjin waves his tongs in his face, silencing him. “Oh, hush. Don’t even try to hide it, Yoongi. I figured out that you like Y/N. Your weird behavior finally makes sense! After years of you avoiding her, I always thought you were just bad at forming human connections, but turns out you’ve got a gigantic heart boner for my best friend!”

“Please don’t phrase it like that,” Yoongi groans, smashing his head against his kitchen counter. He hopes a few brain cells might have died, just so he can stop processing the words coming out of Seokjin’s mouth. “Actually, just please stop talking.”

Seokjin snorts in exasperation as if Yoongi was the dramatic one between them. “Point is, this is a favor that I’ve chosen to grant you from the goodness of my heart! As I said, I’m giving you the love life you deserve! So stop whining and get moving before Y/N gets up here.”

“There isn’t any goodness nor a heart inside of you. And more importantly, when was the last time you did anything for free, you capitalist bastard!”

Seokjin clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Yoongi-chi. You’ve already paid me for my services by offering me front row seats to watch you lose your fucking mind. And that, my friend, is priceless.”

“Aha! So you do admit that this is all just a ploy to humiliate me!” Yoongi shouts. He grabs a knife from his scabbard, pointing it threateningly at Seokjin. He doesn’t even flinch, instead gently guiding Yoongi by the wrist over to the chopping board where he had placed some garlic cloves beforehand. Without prompting, Yoongi’s hand begins to move, his culinary instincts taking over.

“Yes and no,” Seokjin admits as he grabs Yoongi’s cast iron pan from the top shelf (which he has never gotten to use since he bought it, ever since Seokjin had borrowed it once and placed it too high for him to retrieve.) “I’m honestly trying to help you out here, my dude. Besides, even if shit hits the fan, Y/N isn’t gonna think any less of you. She’s too much of an idiot to resent anyone.”

“Speaking from experience?” Yoongi huffs, eyeing him with intense vitriol. “Can’t say I understand how she’s gone this long without killing you.” The next time the two of them are alone together in the wilderness, he can’t promise that his hands won’t find their way around Seokjin’s throat, and it won’t be sexy.

“Hmm. Yeah, definitely,” he says, nodding absentmindedly. As he begins to season the steak, he hands the cast iron pan to Yoongi. “Start preheating this. We need it to be smoking hot before we can place the steak on there.”

“I know how to cook a steak, fucker. And who said you’re allowed to serve my Wagyu steak? I was saving that for a special occasion!”

Seokjin looks up from his ministrations long enough to raise a brow at him. “So going on your first ever date with Y/N isn’t considered a special occasion?”

Yoongi falters, eyes widening. “N-no, that’s not what I mean!” he defends hotly, but he quickly snaps out of it. “Wait, no! This is not a date! Not when both parties did not agree to any of this!”

Seokjin pauses from his cooking to place a perfectly manicured hand on his hip. “I mean, Y/N agreed to it, so are you going to reject her? Huh? Too good for her and my spaghetti?”

Yoongi scoffs, rolling his eyes. “No, she did not agree to this. She doesn’t even know you’re forcing her to eat lunch with me.”

“How can you say that with such certainty?” Seokjin challenges, puffing his cheeks. “You don’t even know what I told her!”

Except I do know what you said, Yoongi thinks darkly to himself. And more importantly, I know what she thinks you were implying. He is pretty sure that the words “crush on him during high school” have seared themselves underneath his eyelids forevermore.

But instead, he says, “Yeah, well. If what you told her is as vague as what you told me, I have a pretty good hunch that this is going to blow up into a huge misunderstanding.”

Like the absolute menace that he is, all Seokjin does is shrug nonchalantly. “Suppose you are right… Who cares? It’s not like the two of you are strangers, so I’m sure this is going to go great!”

“What the fuck? She is a stranger! I’ve literally only spoken two words to her in the past four years!” Yoongi seethes, his temple throbbing from an oncoming migraine. 

Seokjin ignores him, as per his want. “Grab that plate, will you? I gotta plate the pasta before Y/N starts calling again to let her into the building,” he says, nudging the tongs into Yoongi’s hands. Yoongi squawks, quickly turning the stove off to keep the food from burning. 

Seokjin tears off his (read: Yoongi’s) apron off, wiping his hands on his jeans with a quick smile. “Great! While you finish up here, I’ll distract Y/N for a bit in my room before I lead her in here, alright? You better hurry unless you want to keep her waiting!”

“Oh, like how you kept her waiting downstairs for the past–” Yoongi checks his wall clock, “–seven minutes?”

Seokjin cackles madly, rushing out the door. “Well, that’s where you and I differ, Yoongi-chi! I give no shits about how Y/N thinks about me, so good luck!” After sending Yoongi three flying kisses for good measure, Seokjin slams the door shut, leaving Yoongi to simmer in his bad life choices.

The worst choice that he’s ever made? Being friends with one (1) Kim Seokjin.

“God, just end me,” Yoongi mutters, placing his $80 steak on his pan. It sizzles deliciously, much like how his (nonexistent) love life is about to get burnt to a crisp.

x x x x x

“Took you long enough.” You watch as Seokjin taunts you with a funny little dance by the lobby of his dormitory, the building receptionist not even batting an eye at his eccentricity. That’s the sad side effect of living in close proximity with Seokjin: you start getting desensitized to most things, not even flinching at the sight of a man without a functioning central nervous system.

Seokjin slides his card to open the door, finally allowing you entry. “Sorry. Got busy preparing your lunch! Which by the way, you should be thanking me for.”

“The moment I thank you for anything is the day that you slip on your own cum and die,” you grouse, nudging past him to get on the elevator first. You punch the button for the 5th floor before rapidly trying to close the elevator door on him. Unfortunately, Seokjin makes it in time before his ass gets clamped by the two steel doors.

“Thinking about my cum? Oh my, Y/N… I know you’ve had a dry spell for too long, but I didn’t think you’d be that desperate for some of my butter,” Seokjin says, leaning closely to wink at you.

Against your will, your cheeks brighten furiously, weakly pushing Seokjin away from you. “You wish. At least I don’t spend my spare time loitering outside the campus gym to ogle all the sweaty hot people.”

“And the invitation to join me still stands by the way!” Seokjin singsongs, leaping out of the elevator once you reach his floor. You walk side by side until you reach his room, but you catch him shooting a furtive glance at his next-door neighbor.

“Is Yoongi joining us for lunch?” you ask, failing to keep your curiosity from showing in your voice. If Yoongi does end up joining you for lunch (which has never happened in the past four years, convincing you that he must have a personal grudge against you), then at least it can confirm to you straight away that whatever this “date” is just another prank by Seokjin. You don’t know if you should be disappointed or grateful if it is just a joke.

Seokjin beams in response, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You know what? He is going to join us, actually!” 

He had been in the midst of unlocking his dorm when he changes direction, leading you to Yoongi’s door instead. He rifles through his other keys, and you notice one of them looks similar to his own house key, except with a Hello Kitty sticker on it. He pulls that key out and promptly unlocks Yoongi’s door without missing a beat.

What kind of weirdo must Yoongi be to give Seokjin a spare key to his dorm? You’d rather shit out a cactus than let Seokjin have free entry to your home whenever he pleases.

You hesitate by Yoongi’s door, feeling nervous all of a sudden. “Um, Seokjin? Are you sure it’s okay for me to–?”

“HONEY I’M HOOOOME!” Seokjin’s loud guffaw cuts you off before you can finish your question. He bursts through the door and leaves you by the hallway, and you watch as he nearly tackles Yoongi to the ground.

Yoongi, despite looking like he’s half the size of Seokjin on a good day, manages to keep upright despite how his back is now bent parallel to the floor. “Get off me!” he yells, roughly pushing Seokjin off of him. 

Seokjin tumbles to the floor, but the shit-eating grin on his face hardly wavers. He points at you by the doorway, a cheeky grin on his lips. “Look, Yoongi-chi! I brought a guest!”

Yoongi spares you half a glance before returning his attention to whatever he was cooking. “I suppose you did.”

Okay, this date is definitely a joke. Why the hell did you even think for a second that Seokjin might have been into you?

“Um,” you stutter nervously. You grind your heel into the carpet self-consciously, your gaze downcast. “Hello, Yoongi. Sorry for the intrusion, by the way…”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi replies, albeit a little curtly. He clears his throat, his face still tilted away from you so you can’t tell if he’s genuinely annoyed or not. 

You point a glare at Seokjin, who looks shamelessly pleased with himself. After taking a deep breath, you take your first steps into Yoongi’s home before gently closing the door.

As you look around at your new surroundings, you notice that his home is a lot cleaner than you would have expected, though you’re not exactly sure what you should have expected in the first place. It’s minimalist, but not in a barren type of way; it’s seems like Yoongi is fond of simple designs more than anything. It’s certainly a nice change of pace compared to Seokjin’s abomination of a room, with his vaguely yellow-stained bedsheets. 

The smell of freshly cooked pasta and meat being grilled catches your senses immediately. You watch as Yoongi flips over a hefty piece of steak, the aroma causing your mouth to salivate instantly. 

“I… What is… Huh?” you start, not knowing what to ask. You catch Seokjin snickering quietly to himself, but promptly shuts up when you mime punching him in the dick.

“It’ll be finished in a second. Why don’t you sit down?” Yoongi announces quietly, his gaze still fixed away from you. Confused but left with no other choice, you tentatively make your way to his couch, unable to relax as your spine remains ramrod straight and your jaw stays clenched. 

You hear Seokjin shuffling behind you until he eventually makes his way to sit with you, plopping onto the couch as if it were his home. “Ah… I’m soooo hungry. Smells good, doesn’t it?” he asks you, his brow wiggling too much to be considered normal. Either that, or he was having a stroke.

“Yeah, it does,” you say, greatly uncomfortable. You peek at Yoongi once more, who is still dutifully attending to the steak. Making sure he isn’t looking, you twist Seokjin by the nipple, causing the elder to let out a high-pitched squeal. To an outsider, it might have almost sounded like he was being pleasured. 

“Ouch! What the fuck was that for?” Seokjin whines, rubbing his tenderized nipples. 

“You know what that was for,” you hiss, keeping your volume low. “What the hell are we doing here? Why are you making Yoongi cook for us?!”

“For us? It’s for you!” Seokjin snaps back. “Didn’t you say you would only come over if you got fed? Well, this is how you get fed!”

“I was under the assumption that you would be feeding me, not him!” you seethe. You check back on Yoongi, who still hasn’t looked your way once. “The poor boy… No wonder he doesn’t like me! He must think I’m as bad as you!”

Seokjin snorts. “Of course he likes you! This whole lunch date wouldn’t have even fucking happened if he wasn’t assdeep in lo–”

“Lunch is finished,” Yoongi interrupts loudly, his spatula rattling loudly against his pan. The sudden noise makes you jump away from Seokjin, who appears vaguely triumphant. 

“T-thanks,” you stutter, standing up and resisting the random urge to shake his hand. Everything about this situation is so tense and awkward that it feels like you’re being filmed for a prank Youtube video or something. Knowing Seokjin, the odds of that happening are great. 

“That’s my cue to leave then! Bye! You guys have fun!” Seokjin says, jumping to his feet. 

You vaguely hear Yoongi gasp quietly when you launch yourself at Seokjin, just narrowly keeping from escaping. “Oh no, you don’t! Who said you could leave? You’re not going anywhere!”

But like the slippery snake that he is, Seokjin manages to wriggle out of your arms and hop over Yoongi’s coffee table to get to the door. “Too bad! I have classes to get to, so I gotta blast! Use this time to get to know each other or whatever it is that kids do these days,” he says, winking salaciously. With one final sputter of (evil) laughter, Seokjin makes his exit, leaving you and Yoongi to fester in some good ol’ fashioned discomforting silence.

“Um,” you say, just as Yoongi opens his mouth to say something too.

“No, you go first–”

“You go ahead–”

The two of you pause mid-sentence, staring at each other. You grin sheepishly at him, motioning for him to speak first. 

He returns your smile half-heartedly. “So, um… I just wanted to say I’m sorry for letting Seokjin rope you into this. I tried stopping him, but… You know how he is.”

You laugh, sounding a little crazed even to your own ears. That’s the longest sentence you’ve ever heard him speak! 

“Yeah, believe me… I am intimately aware of how he is. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t,” you joke. 

Amazingly, your little quip makes his smile widen, his cheeks puffing up imperceptibly. “Glad we can agree that Seokjin has the amazing ability to ruin people’s lives. It’s almost welcoming to find solidarity in a shared experience.”

“Shared experience? Try shared trauma. That dude is a walking serotonin sucker,” you say dryly. 

You don’t think what you said was remotely funny enough to warrant a laugh, but it causes Yoongi to let out a loud snort regardless. But the amusement on his face is short-lived, his cheeks going red in embarrassment. He slaps a hand to his mouth, breaking eye contact once more. “Oh fuck, that was so unflattering,” he groans, clearly mortified.

His blush, multiplied by his shy demeanor, makes you want to coo at him, but you doubt he’d take that too kindly. So instead, you change the subject to save him. “So, uhh… The food? You don’t have to give me any, by the way. I wouldn’t want you to waste your lunch on me or anything.”

Yoongi snaps out of his previous embarrassment, returning to the more familiar stoic expression you’ve come to associate with Yoongi. “No, that’s fine. Seokjin–er, rather… I made enough for two people, so it would be a waste if you didn’t eat at least some of it. But I don’t care either way if you want it or not.”

For two people? you wonder. So Yoongi had known Seokjin wasn’t going to join for lunch?

“Oh, if it’s fine with you…” you trail off, meekly making your way towards him. The spaghetti and steak look absolutely delicious, though you don’t need to tell him that when your stomach speaks for you. “Oh shit, that’s so embarrassing,” you say, your cheeks heating up this time.

Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head. “Haven’t eaten breakfast yet, I assume? That’s pretty stupid if you ask me. Don’t you have class until 5? How the hell would you have survived until then?”

You choke in surprise. Where did all that sass suddenly come from? “Excuse me? I’m not stupid! I would’ve been fine with a sandwich from the cafeteria if you must know!” you say indignantly. You’re too busy being offended that you don’t fully comprehend his words, failing to notice how he had known you had class until 5 in the first place.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Rolling his eyes, Yoongi starts shifting through his cupboards and pulling out a pink tupperware. He begins to load them with food, nearly overflowing the containers with how much he tries to stuff in them.

“H-hey! What are you doing?”

“Packing your lunch. You have class in a bit, yeah? It’s almost 11:50 and it takes around 15 minutes to get to the main campus. You won’t have time to eat here and make it in time,” he says, pointing you with a look. “Wait. Did you have coffee this morning?”

“Yeah? So?” you ask, defensive. “Are you gonna call me stupid again for not having caffeine or something?”

“No,” he grunts. “If you’re caffeinated, then that means it should only take you 7 minutes to get to class.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” you exclaim, but you can’t help letting out an incredulous laugh. “Wow. You’re kinda weird, did you know that?”

“You barely even know me, so how would you know?” he retorts. He finishes placing food into the tupperware and promptly clicks the lid in place. He offers it to you, smirking slightly.

You huff, but your ire is all for show. You aren’t actually annoyed by him–he’s just… different from what you expected. A little shy, a little rough around the edges… but you can tell he isn’t a bad guy. You understand why Seokjin loves to torment him; he seems like a fun person to tease. 

“That can be amended,” you respond, taking the tupperware from him. Your fingers graze the backs of his hand by accident, causing him to quickly retract his hand as though he’d been burned. You nearly drop the container in surprise, but luckily your reflexes save your precious food just in time. 

“Sorry. About… you know.” Yoongi gesticulates wildly, his gaze darting anywhere but at you. 

You smile secretly to yourself, amused. Ah. He’s like a human seesaw. Blushy one second and grumpy the next. “No worries, Yoongi. I’ll be sure to return this container soon, so don’t you worry.”

Yoongi shrugs. “Keep it if you want. I don’t care either way.”

Says the guy who has an entire cupboard full of color coordinating food containers. “Roger that, Yoongi.”

Yoongi walks you out the door, pausing outside the hallway with you. “Do you…” he hesitates, swallowing loudly enough for you to hear. “Do you… want me to walk you out?”

His sudden offer almost makes you want to laugh, but you have a feeling he wouldn’t find it amusing at all. Instead, you just shake your head with a smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t get lost. I think I remember where the door is.”

He pouts, his lips jutting out cutely. “Yeah, well. I was just trying to be nice, but you do you.”

You giggle lightly, patting him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. You were more than nice,” you say, winking for added effect. It does more than you thought it would, causing Yoongi’s cheeks to bloom once more.

With one last wave, you make your way out of the dormitory, your heart a little lighter than before. 

“Huh. That was weird.” You glance at the pink little tupperware in your hands, its warmth keeping your hands safe from the winter chill. As you walk to class, your thoughts are filled with nothing but a shy boy with soft hands and even softer cheeks. Maybe Tuesday isn’t going to be so bad after all.

[mickeyhenrysgf]

Same Old Mistakes

Summary: Lee Bodecker is jealous of your new relationship with Arvin Russell

Pairings: Modern Day! Arvin Russell x reader, Modern Day! Lee Bodecker x reader

Warnings: manipulation, age gap (reader is in college 20), cheating , dub con, unprotected sex, degrading language, dark themes, please don’t read if you’re not 18+ or these warnings make you uncomfortable.

Author’s note: this is kind of a sequel to my other one shot Party Favors from my old account. You don’t really have to read it though to understand. Anyways, someone commented the reader should fuck Arvin & well I put my own twist on it because I love Lee way too much.

It’s been a month since Sheriff Bodecker was called to stop your party. You wished you could erase the memories from the night. Lee always had a soft spot for you but you took his kindness for granted.

In exchange for not getting turned in for your noise complaint, you had to get on your knees for the Sheriff. To think the sheriff would even care about you or even your pleasures was a silly idea. He cares about one thing and one thing only. Controlling everyone in the town. But, that was a month ago. You stayed clear from misconduct, you didn’t want to see his face ever again.

Now, you were somewhat happy. You were finally interested in someone around your age. His name was Arvin Russell. Everyday after class, he waited for you in his old beat up truck. Arvin didn’t go to college but you didn’t mind. He had small jobs here and there where he would even save some of his money to buy you small things. It was his way of showing that he really liked you. Maybe, you could see yourself falling for him...

“Got your s’ favorite” Arvin announced in his Southern accent that you loved. He had a cheeky smile as he took out a sandwich from his metal lunchbox. A new meal was always waiting for you after class.

You smiled brightly, leaning in and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Arvin pouted softly as he pointed to his lips and you chuckled giving him a kiss on the lips which he rightly deserved.

“You’re the best, Arvin!” you pressed another kiss to his nose. A tint of red started to cover his ears. He truly was one of the sweetest boys you met in town. You cherished it.

But, he wasn’t just sweet. He also knew how to woo a girl in bed...

“Holy fuck—!” You moaned, your eyes rolled back as Arvin pounded into you. The headboard colliding with the wall with every thrust. Arvin had a smirk plastered on his face. This was his favorite thing to do. Pleasure you.

“atta girl... doing so good for me...” he mumbled against your lips, his thumb swiping against your clit as his hips rutted into you. He grabbed your legs and hooked them over his shoulders creating a even more pleasurable experience.

“You close, my pretty girl—? Gunna cum for me, yeah?” Your hands pulled onto his locks and your mouth widened without a sound signaling your release as Arvin grunted heavily. With a few more thrusts, he emptied himself in the condom and pulled out of you, collapsing onto the bed. The condom thrown into the nearby trash can.

He pulled your sweaty body onto his, he watched as you panted against his chest. His heart swelled from the effect you had on him.

“I want you to be my girl for real...” he finally whispered softly, his thumb caressing your cheek. You looked up at him.

“Like— your girlfriend?”

“Mmhm—“ he mumbled and you smiled brightly, leaning forward and kissing him deeply.

As Lee Bodecker parked his car at the gas station, he saw a couple in a car not too far from where he was. The two shadows talked for a moment before they kissed each other on the nose. He couldn’t quite make out who they were but he figured it was young love. He rolled his eyes, until he noticed something. His eyes squinted and he moved his seat up, until his belly pressed against the wheel. It was you.

“Here, get yourself something. We still got a few hours left.” Arvin insisted handing you money.

“Baby... I can buy it on my own, it’s fine” you protested pushing his hand away slightly. He shook his head.

“Please. I don’t mind... how about you order us two hot sandwiches, so then you don’t feel so bad” you sighed heavily, looking down at the money in his hand.

“Fine but this is the last time, babe.”

Arvin hushed you softly, settling the money in your palm. He kissed the bridge of your nose and then your lips. The act itself warming you from within.

“I gotta pump the gas and fill the tires which is going take a while. See you in 15. Now go on.” You nodded and settled out of the car, walking into the convenient store.

You looked around the store. Arvin did say you would be on the road for some time. Everything looked good but you really didn’t want to waste all of his money. As you continued to look, the store doorbell rung signaling a new costumer had arrived.

Lee Bodecker walked into the store with a new sense of confidence. The girl who had been ignoring him for weeks had finally crossed paths with him again. He tilted his hat at the store manager before he walked towards you.

He found himself sliding into the same aisle where you were in. You were two busy bending down and looking at different flavors of chips to notice his presence behind you. His eyes roamed your backside and he bit his lip at the curve of your ass. If only he could push himself right against it.

You turned around to head into the next aisle but you collided into a taller figure. The chips in your hand fell onto the ground. You quickly scrambled to pick them up but a hand stopped you.

“No need Y/N... the pleasure is mine” you could recognize the accent from miles away.

Your heart practically stopped as you stood up to meet eyes with Lee who casually winked at you. That was the problem with the sheriff. He sweet talked you, then used you, and then did it all over again.

“I haven’t seen you in forever. Seems like you are doing everything in your power to not get into trouble...” he chuckled darkly, his eyes stayed on yours.

“Uh- yeah. I guess you can say that. Trouble is just not my thing anymore” you shrugged, looking around the store trying your best to ignore him.

Other customers continued to shop. They didn’t mind the presence of the sheriff.

“I bet.” Lee continued.

“You know... we never talked about that night between us.” You stopped in your tracks as Lee said those words. Memories from a month ago rushing back.

“Shit, you move on quick. Already sucking another man’s cock, huh?” He bended slightly to whisper in your ear just enough for you to hear. His lips grazed against your ear ever so slightly which made you shudder.

You quickly stepped away from him. Your relationship with Arvin was fairly new. He couldn’t have possibly known.

“What are you talking about?!”

“I saw you and Arvin in the car just now” He placed his hands on his hips.

“Congratulations... but he’s uh- a handful” Lee joked, his jaw clenching. You turned on your heel but Lee grabbed your arm tightly. Almost to the point of a potential bruise.

“Lee, stop. You’re hurting me...” you sneered through your teeth. He looked around the store before he grabbed you to the back and pulled you into the store’s bathroom, quickly locking the two of you in there.

“Lee-! You can’t just-! I have to go to back to Arvin!” You pushed his slightly protruding belly, trying to make your way to the door but he pulled you back.

“First off, it’s sheriff to you now. And second of all you don’t leave until I’m done talking to you. Or we can have a repeat from the party. You hear me?” He threatened, his eyes much darker from when he first greeted you.

You gulped lightly, throwing your hands to the side. Protesting wouldn’t get you anywhere. Just let him talk and you’ll be within Arvin’s arms in a few.

“Did you tell him about us?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“What? No. Why would I do that?” Lee laughed softly, taking off his sheriff’s hat and running his fingers through his hands.

There was nothing to tell Arvin. But, Lee thought otherwise. He pushed you back against the wall, as you stared up at him.

“Because if I was him, I would want to know that my girl goes around sucking the sheriff’s dick and then begs him to fuck her”

“T-that was one time... and it was the p-past...” his words hit you one after the other. He was shaming you for an act he manipulated you into doing. Tears started to prickle at the corner of your eyes.

You were a good person. You deserved Arvin. Lee just loved playing the role of the knight in shining armor who pretended to fix your bad behavior every single time.

“Just the past” he repeated with an uncertainty in his voice. His thumb pressed against your lips like old times but you turned your head.

He rolled his eyes at your actions.

“You were such a bad girl. But, who always left you off with a warning? Hmmm? Any other sheriff would have thrown you in the back of the cop car, while you wait for mommy and daddy to pick you up!”

His hands roamed your body as he continued to speak.

“You avoided me for a whole month because you knew you wanted me and you were afraid” he sighed heavily, glaring at you.

Maybe. He was right. But you couldn’t give him the satisfaction. Not yet at least.

“Arvin... really, Y/N?” Lee sighed, pushing away from you in disbelief.

“I like him, Sheriff. He’s a good person. He treats me right. He actually likes me and takes care of me!” You pleaded as your eyes followed him as he paced along the small bathroom.

A tear slipped against your cheek. The doorknob was so close, you could make a run if you were fast enough.

“Do you love him?” He questioned, a hint of jealousy present in his tone.

“I-I don’t know...” Lee turned around and placed himself back on you.

“I can make you feel so much better than he can...” his nose pressed against your neck, as his hands grabbed your waist.

The attraction you had for Lee was still here. It almost made you feel sick inside. If he really cared for you, he wouldn’t do this. But, his words were messing with you. A voice in your head even tried to convince you to listen to him.

“Y/N, let me show what I should have done on the night of the Halloween party” his lips ghosted over yours and pressed onto you softly. He deepened the kiss and you allowed it at first.

Lee Bodecker was finally kissing you. Something you craved for the longest. But, it felt wrong. You struggled and pushed him away.

“Stop—!” You were out of breath as you took a beeline towards the door but Lee grabbed your hair and yanked you back.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?!” He barked, and you winced in pain at his grip. When he heard your whine, he reluctantly let go but kept his arm around your body.

“I’m in a r-relationship, sheriff!” You stammered, scared to even look him in the eyes. Lee tilted your chin up, his eyes now softer. He had to think of his next actions carefully.

He was playing his favorite game on you.

“God, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I got carried away” his arms cradled you in his embrace. His lips kissed your temple. His manners switched instantly. He knew playing the role of the bad wolf wouldn’t win you over.

“I care for you so much, darlin’ and Arvin... he’s not the one for you. He’s done a lot of bad things” Lee said softly, his thumb wiped your tears and cupped your face. If you were going to believe anything, you’d believe Lee & his job.

You raised an eyebrow. Arvin never expressed his wrongdoings. Yeah, he beat up a few bullies from school but they deserved it. Suddenly, you didn’t feel so uncomfortable in Lee’s embrace. Lee noticed this as your posture softened.

This was his chance.

“Really? Like what?”

“Oh, darlin’ if I tell ya— you’ll be scared of the poor boy. I don’t want that.” He informed, his lips pressed against your forehead again.

He was reeling you in with every word. This time you actually felt butterflies in your stomach.

If Arvin was a bad man, as the sheriff explained, then maybe Lee was actually protecting you.

“Please, sheriff... Please, tell me—” His eyes widened at your pleas. Something in him awakened. His cock stirred in his pants, a hard on soon to form. You sounded like an angel to him. He wished you would beg some more.

“You really wanna know—“ he teased, his hands falling to your sides, down your back, and right before your ass. You nodded, pushing into him some more. He bit his lip, his cock straining against his trousers.

“Well, he’s good with his Luger pistol, I’ll tell you that—“ he half joked. Lee tested the waters and suddenly put his hands on your ass. To his surprise, you didn’t move away. It’s not like you didn’t feel his hands either. You were just too busy, caught up in wanting to know more. But, it also did feel good, which you didn’t dare to admit.

He wanted to just bend you over the bathroom sink and have his way already. Just a few more lines and he’d be there.

“Remember that pastor in town who passed away a while ago—“

You nodded recollecting the only town’s gossip. You never went to church, but you remembered hearing the death on the television. It was one of the only major events that happened in Knockemstiff. Lee’s hands squeezed your ass softly and then wandered up your shirt.

“W-what does the pastor have to with a-anything?” You mumbled, holding in your moans at Lee’s actions. His hands cupped your covered breasts and began to grope them. In one swift movement, your bra was off and Lee was pinching your nipples. You gasped, arching yourself towards him.

“Shhh... getting to the best part. Just listen.” He whispered, pressing soft kisses against your neck and you finally moaned. Victory. Lee even started to get carried away and grinded against you.

You knew how wrong this was. It was overwhelming. If Arvin ever found out what was taking place, he’d leave you. This had to stay a secret.

“You’re taking too long!” you whined, feeling the sheriff’s hands and body engulf you. Although it was turning you on, you had to get back to Arvin.

“What did I just say? Don’t rush me” he bellowed, as he shoved two fingers in your mouth. The feeling wasn’t unfamiliar. He’s done this before at the night of the party. You played along with him and swirled your tongue around his digits.

You just needed to know what Arvin did. You had to see if he was worth it. But, you were surely testing Lee’s patience. He needed your pussy now.

“Turns out your precious boyfriend was a part of the murder...” he popped his fingers out your mouth, already undoing your jeans and pushing them down. He pushed your panties to the side and rubbed your clit with his soaked fingers. You bit your lip, throwing your head back and Lee chuckled at your body’s response. He turned your body around, the two of you now looking into the mirror.

“What?”

“Your little boyfriend killed the pastor.” Lee’s eyes studied yours as they widened through mirror. He nodded, moving your hair away from your neck. His fingers danced against the skin, goosebumps forming.

“T-that can’t be true-“ you murmured, as Lee began to place sloppy wet kisses over your exposed skin.

Arvin Russell was a good man. If he killed someone, there had to be a good reason.

One thing Lee was good at was creating his own version of the truth.

Your thoughts were clouded from Lee’s actions. It was all too much, but you couldn’t push away from Lee even if you wanted to.

“Well, start believing darlin’— you need a real man. Someone who is gunna take care of ya— That boy just gunna mess with your damn head...” The next thing you heard was the sound of the sheriff’s belt being unbuckled and his pants dropping. You sucked in a breath, already knowing what would happen next. There was no need to turn around.

“You’re not gunna run away now, are you?” He teased, as his cock ran through your folds, collecting your wetness. You gasped lightly biting down on your lip, shaking your head.

“That’s a good girl. Now, hold on, sheriff’s gunna make you feel real good.” He smirked motioning you to hold onto the sink as he slowly entered you. Your hands tightened around the sink as you moaned at how thick he was.

“Fuck!” You both announced as Lee fully bottomed out holding onto your hips. His thrusts quickly falling into a steady pace, as he pulled your hair back.

“So tight and wet-! Whose this pussy belong to huh?” His hand fell onto your right cheek, and then your left, until it made a type of red shade. It was the right amount of pain and pleasure.

You wanted to say his name but your mind kept drifting to Arvin. He was probably worried sick. 15 minutes definitely had already passed.

Lee scoffed as if he somehow could read your thoughts. His thrusts became deeper and rougher, his hand wrapping around your throat.

“I asked you a fuckin’ question!” Lee spat, his voice was deeper, almost animalistic.

“My cock is in this dirty cunt—! Not him!” Before you could reply he slapped your ass with a stronger force.

“It belongs to you!” you whimpered, tears falling from your eyes. He groaned, his lips sucking and licking against your neck. He was close but he wanted you to cum with him. His fingers once again giving your clit attention which was a little too harsh.

His thrusts were getting sloppier by the second, slowly but surely the only one on your mind was Lee and how good his cock felt around you.

“God, I’m going to make you my little whore. Your pretty face and cunt stuffed with my cock whenever I like, say yes” He grunted, his fingers digging into your hips and to his surprise you wiggled your ass against him. Even clenched around him. You were too lost in the ecstasy. He’s got you now.

“Yes—! Yes, I’ll be your whore!” you practically begged, humiliated by your words but it felt too good.

“Going to fill this cunt up now— and tomorrow and the day after that. You’ll love it.“ he grunted through his teeth.

“Please—!” You moaned, the only sounds consisted of heavy panting and his cock pounding in and out of you. The mirror already fogged.

“Cum with me!” He groaned, his final thrust helping you reach your orgasm. Moments later, Lee was stilling inside you and painting your walls which felt like forever, some of his cum seeping down your thighs.

He leaned over and wiped down the mirror. Your appearance was much messier from when you got there. Tear stained cheeks, make up ruined, & messy hair. You looked horrible but to Lee you looked like a doll. The sight already making his cock hard again.

He turned you around and lifted you up on the sink. “Mine” he observed, the coldness from the sink made you wince. Lee propped your mouth open and spat inside.

“Swallow.” And you gladly did as he pulled you into a forceful kiss, teeth and tongue clashing. His hands played with your breasts as the two of you moaned in pleasure.

He officially ruined you... and claimed you.

“Who do you belong to?” He asked one final time as he broke the sloppy kiss, saliva disconnecting from yours and his mouth.

“You... sheriff.” He nodded proudly, grabbing his boxers and trousers from the floor, and dressed himself. He picked up your panties and stuffed them into his pocket. You began to protest but he hushed you.

“You’ll get these back after you leave him... Don’t keep me waiting, honey.” Lee announced sternly, kissing you again and then leaving you alone in the bathroom.

Your propped yourself off the sink, your legs shakily going over to grab your jeans to put them on quickly. You splashed some water on your face but it didn’t change anything. Your hair covered your new forming hickies but it couldn’t take away your post sex look.

You nervously opened the bathroom door and walked back into the main area of the store. The store was quiet and the sheriff was already gone.

“Baby—! There you are—“ Arvin’s voice startled you from behind as he hurried over to you and pulled you into his arms. His hands cupping your face. “What happened?” He questioned, concern written all over his face.

“I was in the bathroom I-uh- have a really bad stomach ache. I don’t know. It came out of nowhere...” you mumbled, holding onto your stomach. Somehow trying to convince him that was the reason for your horrible appearance. He signed in relief, rocking your body back and forth.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home...”

Arvin was oblivious. Maybe, he was too in love and just believed anything that came out of your mouth. You were thankful for that. His hands interlaced with yours, as you both walked out the store, a limp in your step.

The sheriff’s car was parked in the front just like he said he would. He told you in the bathroom he would wait for you.

Most importantly, To leave Arvin.

The two of you locked eyes. The sight in front of him filled him up with jealousy. He saw the way you were limping. Proudly, caused by him. But here you were laced hand in hand with Arvin.

If you weren’t going to leave him, then Lee would take matters into his own hands. The sheriff stepped out his car, stopping you & Arvin. His hands on his hips as he tilted his hat up.

“Something wrong, Sheriff?” Arvin asked, holding you close.

“Just need to have a few words with Miss Y/N at my office. Something about her family came up. Won’t be too long and nothing for you to worry about. I’ll take her home to you— later” he drawled out the last words, his eyes filled with anger and his jaw clenched, you were in for it.

[midnightmoonkiss]

now you got me THINKING:

reader picking the lock to her holding cell for the hell of it, wandering the deck at night and catching deku muttering to himself, compass in one hand, tugging at his lips with the other, to which she helps him using scraps of knowledge she picked up from her snob of a father, learning her father was the the reason for a few of his scars in past battles, tracing them gently and explaining how she hates her life and blah blah bLha my brain rot is REALL

YESS OMFG???? HOLD ON I GOTTA.. GOTTA WRITE THIS..

Kidnapped By A Pirate (Cont.)

Pirate Deku X Fem! Reader

This basically is a continuation of this short fic, only going further into the early-on relationship between Captain Midoriya and you, (Y/N).

Category: fluff I guess?

Word Count: 2.3k

Just To Clarify:

This is a continuation

“You know,” His mellifluous voice startled you, “It’s awfully rude to stare.”

The sentence sliced through the silence of the night like the sharp sword resting upon his jutting hip.

The sea was calm and the moon was full, not a cloud in the sky. Stars shimmered brightly above, milky way weaving through each dot of light.

And here you stood, on a pirate ship.

Gathering your bearings, you inhale sharply through your nose, the salty scent of the sea nearly making you gag,

“It’s awfully rude to kidnap someone and throw them into a dirty old cell with no food or water as well.”

His hearty chuckle made you gulp, the tickling of butterflies has no place in your stomach. Not now. Preferably not ever with him, but most pirates did have this.. salacious charm to them.

“Very true…” He sighed, “Forgive me.”

The fact that you were having this conversation with his back infuriated you.

He didn’t care enough about your escape from your cell in the dead of night, when all his crewmen were asleep, to even pay you full attention.

It was as if he viewed you as the least frightening and threatless thing on this vessel, a harmless, stowaway mouse.

Swallowing the lump of logical fear lodged in your parched throat, you strung together all the courage you had on you with a flimsy string and strode over to him, hands fisting the fabric of your dress.

The pirate was leaning against the railing of his ship, staring down at a dirty compass resting in the palm of his large hand, lip pulled between his thumb and index finger and he studied the spinning of the needle trapped behind cracked glass.

His features from behind became clearer with every cautious step you took, messy green curls pulled into a ponytail, few strings of loose hair framing his chiseled face. He was practically glowing in the light of the moon that shone in front of him. Beautifully dangerous, like a barracuda.

“It’s broken.” You pointed out to him, the captain who wasn’t wearing a hat, an air of finality in your tone.

If he was plotting a course by a broken compass..

You were royally fucked.

You’d be lost at sea.

Would you ever see land again?

The nauseating rocking of the ship had you almost on your knees, praying. As the days went by, your sea legs grew, but you still weren’t used to it. You didn’t want to be used to it.

“It's only broken to those who don’t understand it,” He teased, sparing you a glance before returning his gaze down to the old piece of junk.

He didn’t seem to want to bother with taking you back down to your own personal hell, yet.

That was good enough for you.

You came up here for air, after all.

It was suffocating below deck.. The stench of mildew having made you sick.

Who knew you took fresh air for granted? Even if it was salty.

At least you could see the open sea and how the moon reflected on the murky water. It was enchanting, something out of a romance novel, but you wished you saw it under better circumstances.

Something about being on a piece of wood out where land was nowhere in sight and the bottom of the ocean was so far out of reach you couldn't even imagine it unnerved you.

You never understood seamen, or pirates, even.

They did this stuff for fun.

At least seamen did it as a way to make income.

The click of his tongue brought your attention back to the freckled man, murmurs under his breath only just now reaching your ears.

Directions and landmarks, sea terminology, things you didn't understand slipped past his chapped lips.. Until something you did know was uttered.

“You’re sailing for the port of Baringham? The low-profile port? That only deals with textiles?”

“Many questions for an answer you already know,” he quipped, “I’m taking you there.”

“How are you going to take me to a place where you cannot even plot a course to?”

Huffing, he finally turned his head to you, amusement written on his face along with a charming smile that would’ve made anyone swoon,

“Alright, you’ve got me.”

Pushing himself up with his cloth covered forearms, he moved to lean with his back against the rail, crossing his arms as he gave you a sliver of respect with direct eye contact.

You briefly considered pushing him over.

“I’m a bit lost.”

“Ah, so you admit it.”

Humming, you mimicked his action, crossing your arms under your chest.

“Fortunately for you, I happen to know where it is.”

“That so?” He mused, leaning toward you ever so slightly, panicked interest cracking through his calm, forest green eyes that you couldn't help but notice twinkle, “Care to tell me?”

“Mmm. I would… but what’s in it for me?”

“What is it that you want? Isn't your guaranteed freedom at said port enough?”

“No.”

“..” The captain was shocked into silence, clear amusement still written all over his face.

Combing his dirty fingers through his messy green locks, he gave you an inquisitive stare,

“Then what else?”

You thought for a moment. What else did you want?

You wanted many things, things of which he could not grant. No one could.

You’d have to settle for something else.

Something you would prefer.. suddenly, the sickness you felt when you were in that gross cell came to mind.

“Don’t put me back in that damned cell!” The shout bubbled up from nowhere, shocking even you, “And.. and water. I want water.” You mumbled out.

Silence settled into the night once more after your loud declaration.

Your face burned with pure embarrassment as he became the one to stare at you..

Until he started laughing.

The kind of boisterous and infectious laughter that forced you to look away from his regrettably handsome self.

“You have yourself a deal, princess!”

The title further made your cheeks burn, drawing your attention back to him just to meet his enchanting gaze.

It draws you in like a sailor to a mermaid.

“Now, mind telling me?”

Licking your lips, you pointed to the heavens, his eyes following, “Travel so the brightest star in the sky is behind you, and follow the little dipper. The port is due north from there.”

It was a route you didn’t mean to memorize years ago.

The loud snap of the compass being closed made you jump, composure temporarily lost yet again.

“Ahh..” His gaze flickered over the sky, no doubt seeing a plethora of routes with each familiar constellation as he mapped the one you spoke of.

“I see it now, silly me.”

Looking down at the deck, he rubbed the back of his sweaty neck, messing with the curly hair that fell loose. Would you be so bold as to think that he may be embarrassed?

He clapped a hand on your shoulder after pushing himself fully off the rail, the whisper of thanks fanning hotly across your ear as he climbed the creaking stairs to the helm, brown boots clicking on each step as he did so.

Spinning the wheel round, the ship croaked as it turned so that the north star fell behind.

“How did you know this course?”

His curiosity was natural. After all, how did you, daughter of a well-off navy general who had never stepped aboard a boat before, know the way to a port not many knew of?

The answer was simple, though it was an answer you didn't exactly wish to know. Cursed with knowledge as you would say, blessed would say the others.

“My father.” Bitterness stung your words, and Izuku whistled.

“Slimy piece of shit he is.” It was grumbled under your breath, and yet he still somehow heard you, offering a grunt of agreement, eyes focused ahead.

“I hate the bastard myself,” he seethed through his teeth, “I’d offer up all the rum and shillings I have to see his blood spill and stain my deck by my own hands.”

The fury that clung to each word he spoke sent shivers down your spine, his aura threatening as he fell to his thoughts.

“I have an obvious reason to hate him,”

“You do?”

Your childlike curiosity warmed his heart, bringing his attention back to you,

“You don’t get scars from nowhere, love.”

Your nose crinkled at the term of endearment, climbing the stairs yourself as you rolled your eyes.

“Your scars are hidden,”

“His scars mark my back.”

Blood drained from your face, bile creeping up your throat at the meaning.

You felt sick and disgusted with the blood that ran through your veins.

You hated being the daughter of a monster.

“Oh..” The whisper caught on the wind pulling at the sails.

Silence fell once more, the unbearable kind that made even his skin crawl with uncomfortableness.

Had the crew been awake, he probably would have laughed, grabbed a bottle of rum, and stumbled into his captains quarters to drink the memories away.. But his crew was asleep.

Oh, how he missed his first mate. He was the whole reason you were on his ship in the first place.

“Just your back?”

“Do you wish he gave me more?” Izuku chuckled, teasing you once again.

“No.” You huffed, furious he would even suggest such a thing.

“I have a few.. Mainly on my hand but I-”

His words died on his tongue, heart beating in his ears when he felt your much smaller and daintier hands grip his own, the only one covered in white scars.

He gulped as you traced the smooth cicatrix on his rough skin, a small blush on his cheeks, your touch soothing the pain behind each one.

Tears not his own fell onto his skin, rolling off and spattering onto the deck below, but he remained silent, allowing you to trace the scars over his forearm, not specifying which were and which were not created by your father.

He liked your touch.

“I hate him too.” Your words were raw with hatred, touch fading as you pulled away and yet he still felt the tingle of it under his skin.

He wanted more. He hadnt felt such gentleness in so long..

That doesn’t matter, though.

“Why?” He found himself asking.

Lips pressing into a frown, he watched the sea as you mindlessly walked around behind him, stories spilling past your fervent lips, stories that made silent anger bubble in his gut, stories that you had never told anyone before - that you were forced to keep inside yourself for so long that they spilled out without care.

His desire to burn that man's ship down, to watch as the bright flames engulf him and it, destined to forever be lost at the bottom of the sea, grew tenfold.

Deku, the infamous pirate, prided himself on not giving a shit half the time, but he couldn’t ignore the empathy he felt in the moment.

You both had a common enemy.

Two strangers.. Where’s the irony in that?

“I don't like you,” You started after finishing up your uncontrollable word vomit, stopping in your tracks, “But the fact that I find this kidnapping to be the most enjoyable days of my life because I’m away from him and all the power he possesses is concerning.”

Why you told this to an untrustworthy, murdering thief.. You had no idea.

Perhaps it was because you had a feeling he would understand after hearing you out.

Or maybe it was the fact that he was currently the only person you could say it to.

After kidnapping you, all he had said to you was ‘welcome aboard!’ before locking the cell you just escaped from days later.

You should hate him, you should wish him to hang like every other disgusting pirate out there, especially for snatching you from your home in the dead of night, transferring you from one cell to the next, but you don't.

You wouldn’t show that, though.

Many words weighed heavy in Izukus mind, words he was unsure if he could say, or if it’d be the right thing to say.

He wasn’t heartless like some assumed, he wasn’t this traitorous asshole stories floating around about him told, he was just a pirate with a kind heart and skilled hands.

He almost felt bad that he planned to give you back to your father.

He felt bad that for that first day you were aboard his ship, he had wicked ideas of marking and ruining you in so many ways your father would only ever look at you and see him. 

It was a cruel way to get revenge, revenge through someone else.

Actually, maybe he was an asshole.

Right then and there, he decided that that would no longer be his course of action, not if he could help it.

Hell, he wanted to keep you as far away from your father as he could. Would he abandon his first mate? No. He’d devise some other plan. Maybe get you somewhere safe, ask for your dress, and then cover a scarecrow in said dress and use that as a tool to get him back.

It could work!

Or maybe not.

Nonetheless, plan A through D were just thrown overboard,

“Well,” He smacked the wooden wheel to get your attention,

“You’re a pretty little thing, so I like you.”

You scoffed, he continued,

“Consider yourself prisoner to your fathers enemy for a long time to come, because darlin’,”

He drawled, sauntering over to you as you instinctively backed up, only to be trapped against the railing.

His muscular arms caged you in, taller frame towering over you as electrifying green eyes intoxicated your soul and sent heat flashes up your body,

“I’m not gonna let you go so easily.”

[bitchassbucky]

.zip

Word Count: 2k

Warning/s: toxic/abusive relationship dynamics, gaslighting and manipulation, abduction, injuries were mentioned, stalking, dark!bucky x dark!reader, emotionally/mentally unstable!reader, dismemberment (not gore-y but still), three very special character mentions, shady corporate stuff, career sabotage?, food mention, sedation/drugging, f-words.

A/N: oh my god, this is the final chapter of CTRL. to all who read from the start, thank y'all so fucking much - from the bottom of my big-ass heart, thank you so much for coming along with this journey. this is my first FINISHED series, oh my god. to @babyboibucky (CTRL's number one fan), @sarge-barnes-sir, and @borikenlove thank you so much for indulging my inner degenerate GHJSDFG and for screaming (affectionately) at me when i first let y'all read the finished draft.

BUT THIS IS NOT THE END (just yet), i will be uploading TWO epilogues very soon: the explicit version and the not-so-explicit version. stay tuned!

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

epilogue:

.eps (explicit)

.eps (cut)

CTRL playlist CTRL moodboard

Your demeanor, character, even tone, changed.

Calculated, cold, unnerving.

But you sat there like a housewife in front of her husband, eating spaghetti and meatballs. Acting all dandy like there isn’t a man strapped onto the chair four feet away from you.

“C’mon, darling, eat! I made your favorite,” your eyes twinkled as Bucky helplessly tugged on his restraints, “oh, sorry, you’re tied up.”

Hm, sick in the head, bad for the heart.

“What do you want?” Oh, wow, even talking hurts for him. His throat is all dried up, he tasted something bitter under his tongue.

You chuckled, moving half a meatball around your mostly empty plate, “for you to stop treating me like I’m stupid.” You spear the meat with your fork, swirling it in the sauce, “I know you’ve been… checking in on me, Bucky.”

Oh, fuck.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I was-- I mean, look at you--” He’s making it worse. You’re mad. You’re angry because he was being a good friend.

He only did that because you were lonely and he’s right: you are lonely.

So lonely that you’re willing to kidnap a grown man to keep you company, “I’m so sad for you.”

“You’re aware you’re the one’s been tied up, right?” You’re curt as you should be, scooting over near Bucky to feed him.

“I can’t eat that—” If he wasn’t sitting down and tied, Bucky would’ve vaulted over you and called the neighbors, she’s fucking crazy!

You giggled, rolling your eyes as if he had the freedom to make a choice right now, “if you’re thinking of screaming… More than half of my neighbors are felons or on parole, I doubt that they’ll call 911.”

Jutting forward the fork, you let the prongs gently touch Bucky’s lips, “now, eat! We have so much to talk about.”

“No. I don’t-- I’m not hungry.” He shakes his head, the fork hitting his chin and clanking down the floor.

“Just eat the fucking food, Steve!”

Bucky flinched at your sudden outburst. The words—the name—seeping in a moment later. Steve? Who the hell is Steve? Was he your husband? Boyfriend? His head throbbed again, his mouth filling with saliva like he’s about to throw up.

You kneel down, pulling a napkin from the table to wipe the meat and the sauce from the floor.

“This better not stain.”

—

He promised thrice.

Once over pasta and meatballs, once over dessert, and once when you were clearing the table.

You relented, of course. Half because you love him and half because it’s getting annoying.

“As long as you don’t leave me, okay?”

“Yes, I promise. I won’t leave you.”

Bucky’s still seating on the dinner chair, slightly slumped without the ropes holding him up, “look, I’m really sorry about the anesthetic, I went overboard with it.” You look over to him—at least he’s regaining his fingers and arms again.

“It’s okay, babe, I wouldn’t trust me either.” If he could stand up, he’d go over and hug you. Helping with the dishes, peppering you with sweet kisses.

A genuine laugh slips out of your lips, “ugh, still… I’m really sorry.”

The last of the plates were neatly stacked, cups and cutleries were placed gently on a drying rack. It was getting late, you could tell.

“I’m not mad, by the way.” You muse, prompting Bucky to lean forward, listening to you.

“What do you mean?” He takes your hand into his, ever so gently.

“You did that,” you squeeze his hand back, gazing into his soulful eyes, “because you love me.”

Did you know that some people could read microexpressions well? Bucky went through a whole lot of them before answering, “of course, I do.”

Contemplating whether you call him out on it or not, you hum, placing a gentle hand on his jaw, “it’s okay, you’ll learn how to love me.”

He has to. He has no other choice.

Bucky clears his throat, “have you seen my phone?” His tone was hopeful, upbeat, maybe he can reach out to someone, anyone, before you can do any more damage.

“Yeah, ‘s on the couch.”

He tried to move, he really did. Bucky’s fairly strong, he can bench an easy 140 on a good day. But even the beefiest motherfuckers have no match for Propofol.

“Don’t worry about your friends, they’re not worried about you, Buck.” The coolness of your tone sends Bucky into a panic—again. “D’you wanna check your messages though? There’s a lot of ‘em.”

Grabbing his phone, you asked Siri to read him his latest notifications.

Urgent: Notice of Immediate Termination

From Joaquin: Where are you, man?

From John W.: Do you have copies?

Urgent: Notice of Immediate Termination

Urgent: Gross Misconduct

From Joaquin: Bucky, what the fuck?

From Samuel Wilson: Pick up the phone, Barnes. You’re fired.

17 missed calls from an unknown number

From John W.: I knew you were a freak but holy shit, dude!

72 text messages from an unknown number

Bucky never really liked horror movies. It made him jumpy and anxious. Too paranoid, even. But now? Now he’s sure that people have never experienced sheer fright before.

His toes cramped inside his boots, his feet were cold, sweating. The little hairs on his legs stood up, goosebumps littering the entirety of his body. If he held his breath, he’s sure he could hear his heart hammering out of his chest. The blood rushes past his ears and onto the base of his skull—he’s gonna be sick.

“What,” he gulped back the saliva pooling in his mouth, “what did you do?”

You’re irritatingly calm, “well, I mean… We’re already together, what do you need those for, right?”

Putting a warm hand over his forehead, you cooed, “poor thing, you look sick.”

—

Bucky thinks it’s well past midnight when the anesthetic wore off.

His limbs were heavy, he had to lean on the wall every couple of steps to regain his balance. Helpless. He’s helpless and you both know it. As if it’s a bear trap, Bucky carefully took his phone from the coffee table.

Why would you leave it unattended?

The screen lights up as soon as he picked up, his lock screen littered with ‘fuck yous’, ‘sicko’, and his personal favorite, ‘motherfucker.’

Ignoring the glaring messages, he went straight for the emergency dialler and—you took out his SIM card, snapping it into two neat pieces, placing it beside the phone.

Bitch.

The golden surface of the card was scratched too, he can’t do anything, use it as a toothpick, maybe? His phone was just as good as a paperweight.

He looks out of the window, limping towards it. Even if he could climb over, it would take him forever to get onto the street. Your neighbors would probably think that he’s just on a bad trip.

“It’s bolted shut. Perks of living alone as a single female.” Your voice made him flinch back, like a kid whose hand was halfway down the cookie jar.

Bucky plays it off with a cough, he can’t be weak now, “no, babe, I was checking out a noise. You ready for bed?”

You smiled softly, taking his hand and draping his arm on your shoulders as you prop him against you, “almost, big guy. Gotta get you settled in bed first. Are you tired?”

Nodding, Bucky kisses your temple, “yeah.” He just needs to play with your sick little games until he regains his strength.

Where would he go? His reputation and his job are besmirched, his apartment is probably crawling with forensics too.

“You fell down and banged your head earlier. Nasty cut on your head too. I told you to not tire yourself much.”

You hit and drugged me but I digress, “Yes, darling. ‘M sorry.”

“You scared me, Buck. I thought you were dead.” Are these tears forming in your eyes?

“I’m not leaving you, not by any chance. I promise.”

He promises a fourth time.

—

Your bedroom was bigger than he thought. But of course, he only saw your desk and your bed through the webcam.

Save from the Ted Bundy-esque corkboard you have in front of your workspace, he feels weirdly at home. You tucked him in, reminding him to wake up every two hours for the painkillers.

“You’re not going to bed?” He muses from behind you, all cocooned in your blankets.

“Just need to take this phone call real quick, babe.” Your back was turned from him as you work on your company laptop. He noticed that the webcam is covered with white tape.

The sound of an incoming call filled the room before you quickly answer it, your voice turning hoarse and raspy as if you’ve been crying.

Hi, Mr. Wilson. I’m so sorry for the late call. Do I- do I need to come in tomorrow? I just... I don’t feel comfortable facing everyone—I used all my home hours this week and—

Miss L/N, I’m glad you reached out to me. Is it okay if I record this call for security purposes? It’s just for you, me, and the HR department.

You turned to Bucky, your face is stone-cold but your voice belonged to someone so utterly helpless.

No, you don’t have to call into work tomorrow… Or any other day.

A dainty gasp and a fucking sob comes out of your mouth, your eyes were telling a different story.

Am I fired?

God, no. Please, Miss L/N, don’t worry about that. We want you with us through this entire debacle. We want you to take some time off—paid. We’ll also grant you… a grievance package.

You could almost hear what he would say next.

As long as you don’t talk to any members of the press or any journalists until our friends in the PR department can clean this up.

A triumphant smile creeps on your bare features, putting a finger in front of your lips, you mimic a ‘shh’ gesture to Bucky.

You round up another mirthless sob as the CEO drones on about the bureaucracy of this whole thing.

He was really nice to me, you know? He took me out on dinners and lunches. He even brought me to his place and I– nothing happened but I can’t stop thinking about it.

I’m really sorry, Miss L/N. I thought he was…

A good guy? I really thought so too.

Please stay offline for a bit, just for the weekend, alright? Someone from the HR department will be in touch with you for the process. We don’t wanna be a hassle more than what Barnes is. On our behalf, please accept our deepest apologies.

Jesus, this guy had the PR department cook up an apology letter.

Thank you—thank you so much, Mr. Wilson. I’ll keep in touch.

You burst out in laughter a second after the call ended. Hearty laughter, the one where you can feel your belly tightening.

“Did you hear how good I was, baby? Oh my god, we had them fooled.”

We? Fuck your ‘we.’

You slide over the covers, propping up yourself with your elbow as you turn to face Bucky, “don’t worry, you don’t need them anymore. You have me, yeah? We have each other.”

—

Out of the most bizarre things that happened to him last week, finding dismembered fingers in the fridge was the least of his concerns.

“Honey!” Bucky calls out, holding the ziplock bag with a pair of tongs.

You bound down the stairs, your laptop in hand as you squint, “what am I looking at?”

Bucky hesitated, maybe he’s going insane too, “fingers. Dismembered fingers—are these yours?”

Setting down the laptop onto the table, you peck him on the cheek, smiling as if him holding a baggie with human remains is just your Sunday normal, “god, I hope not. I need my hands to do things.”

As soon as you look back at him, you dropped the facade: “those are Steve’s. Well, used to be.”

Bucky’s afraid to ask the question where’s the rest of him?

“You know the term pinky promise, right? Well, it has a dark origin.”

Just as fast as a bustling train, Bucky rakes his brain for all the times he promised you something. Hoping that he won’t end up with a stump for a hand.

One vividly bright memory is seared into his brain though, the days blurred together with sharp edges and mismatched colors: we love how we were taught to love.

So, who taught you how to love like this?

[ecto-american]

Liar Liar

Phic Phight Oneshot for Ectopal: After an argument with her now grounded son, Maddie wishes that Danny wouldn't lie to her-and Desiree overhears. [TransDanny]

The OG prompt: After an argument with her now grounded son, Maddie wishes that Danny wouldn't lie to her-and Desiree overhears.

Potential TW for trans-related venting and implied violence, but there’s nothing graphic

on FFN and AO3

The front door opened, and Maddie frowned as she glanced at the clock that informed her that yes. It was definitely hours past his curfew.

No lights turned on, but she still could tell from the faint light of the one kitchen light, the light that the family just never turned off so that they could see at night, that it was definitely her son doing his best to remain quiet. And now that she knew he was safe, all of her fears about if he was okay and his safety melted away and allowed for anger to start boiling.

"Daniel James Fenton," she finally called out. The figure froze, and she flipped the light switch on. Before her was her son, looking as guilty as ever. One hand was on the wall, guiding him as he approached the stairs, the other holding onto his binder and shoes. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"...Um...Can I plead the fifth?" he asked weakly. Her frown deepened.

"It's nearly two in the morning, and on a school night!" she scolded. "Let's not even talk about how you snuck out right now." His shoulders slumped. "You could have been dead for all I know!"

"I'm sorry," he replied quietly.

"Where were you?" Maddie asked.

"I was at Tucker's, we got caught up playing video games," he said. Maddie scowled.

"Tell me the truth," she said. Danny scowled back.

"I am!" he insisted.

"Then how come Pamela called me?" Maddie asked. At the name of Mrs. Manson, Danny paled.

"...She called you?" his voice croaked out.

"You bet she called me," Maddie snapped. "What were you thinking?"

"I wi-I just!" Danny cut himself off as he seemed to struggle to find his words. "I'm just wanting more freedom! I'm an adult now! I can legally buy cigarettes!" Maddie couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Well I wish you wouldn't lie to me!" Maddie argued back. Danny flinched at her words. "And maybe if you didn't, I'd let you have more freedom! But you lied about going to your room, you lied to me just now about where you were, and I already know that you're going to lie to me when I ask you what you and Sam have been doing!"

"We weren't doing anything!" Danny half-yelled back. "We fell asleep binge watching one of her true crime shows!"

"Don't lie to me!" Maddie told him.

"I'm not!"

Maddie made an angry grumbling noise, crossing her arms.

"You're ground, all weekend," she informed him. Danny didn't respond; he simply made a face at her. He brushed past her to angrily stomp up the stairs. She didn't bother snapping at him over that too.

"So you have wished it, so shall it be."

Maddie turned around rapidly at the voice. It wasn't Danny's...and Jazz was miles away at college…But what she did hear was Danny slamming his bedroom door shut. She'd get onto him about that in the morning.

A quick inspection, and she found nothing, and she decided to just call it a night. She went upstairs herself, pausing at Danny's door to listen. She could hear Danny shuffle around for a moment, though after a moment, she saw his light go out and heard his bed creak as he rested on it. She just knew he was going to fall asleep in class tomorrow. Maddie sighed, and she went into her room.

Jack was just coming from the bathroom with a light yawn, and she felt guilty.

"Did we wake you up?" she wondered. Jack gave her a small smile and shrugged.

"It's okay," he assured her. Maddie huffed.

"No, it's not," she insisted. "He should have been home. He was over at Sam's house until about ten minutes ago. Pam called to complain about it."

"Ah, he's just doing what teenagers do," Jack replied. Maddie frowned as she got into bed.

"Well that mentality is how we end up grandparents way too early," she reminded him. Jack gave a light sigh as he also slipped back into bed.

"Yeah, you're right," he agreed. "I'll talk to him about it soon."

"Thank you. He's pretty mad at me right now," Maddie turned her bedside lamp off. Jack chuckled.

"He'll probably be mad for a bit, but he'll get over it," he reassured her. He switched his own bedside lamp off as he got settled back in. "Night, love you."

"Love you too."

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

Despite the late night, Maddie was up early. She could hear that Danny was already up and getting ready in the bathroom, so she didn't feel the need to say anything to him just yet. They could reserve any conversation for after school.

By the time she came downstairs, Danny was in the kitchen staring at the toaster, backpack on the kitchen table.

"Morning, sweetie," she greeted him warmly.

He gave her a somewhat dirty look, and he mumbled a cranky and short "morning" in response. She opted to ignore his attitude for now, and she went over to the coffee maker. While she was waiting for Danny, she had gone ahead and scheduled the coffee maker to start making coffee, and man was she glad. It was already pouring, and it smelled great.

"Danny, do you want a cup of coffee?" she asked him. He glanced over, and he shook his head no.

"Mm no thanks," he replied.

"Did you sleep okay?"

"I slept like shit."

Maddie glanced at Danny in surprise, and he stared back at her, equally as confused. Danny never cussed at her.

"Cause you stayed out all night, huh?" Maddie lightly accused, leaning her hand on the counter.

"No, cause I slept with my binder on and now my chest hurts," he snapped back. Maddie frowned.

"You're not supposed to do that," she told him.

"Well maybe if I wasn't fucking born like this-," he began but cut himself off. He looked so confused, and Maddie was too. Not at the statement. She had no doubt that it was true, but where did all this cussing come from? He knew better than to talk to her like that, and it was so...weird. Danny glanced back to the toaster, clearing his throat. "Sorry, I...I uh…" Two pop tarts popped out of the toaster, and he quickly snatched them up. "I gotta go. Bye."

"...Have a good day," Maddie called after him, staring as he quickly walked out, and she heard the front door close. She made her cup of coffee, and she got to work.

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

She jumped as their ghost alarm went off, but Jack and Maddie wasted no time quickly collecting their things and rushing out the door and into the RV. It led them right to the scene. A fight against Amity Park's most popular ghost and another fairly familiar ghost, a green skinned woman with flowing black hair dressed exclusively in blue.

Maddie messily pulled into a parking spot off the side of the road, and Jack immediately hopped out. Maddie followed suit, and she hurried towards the action.

"Stop granting every damn wish you hear! I swear, it's ridiculous!" she could hear Phantom yell.

"I'm merely giving people what they ask for," the woman, Desiree Maddie believed she was called, replied smugly.

Phantom looked like he was gonna say something more, but stopped when he seemed to glance over and notice their arrival.

"Let's just finish this," he said instead, and he blasted her, only to miss. The woman smirked, but it was quickly cut off by a secondary blast from Jack.

"Jack!" Maddie gasped in excitement. "Excellent shot!" Jack grinned proudly, firing another. Only to miss, as sorta expected.

"I do not have time for this!" Phantom scowled. Maddie rolled her eyes. What the hell does a ghost have going on? He pulled out the Fenton Thermos and sucked the other ghost in.

"You ever going to return that?" Maddie called out sarcastically.

"It's my thermos! You gave it to me!" Phantom called back, immediately giving her a weird blank look. Maddie narrowed her eyes.

"We didn't give you anything," she replied. She held her hand out expectantly. "Give it back."

Phantom opened his mouth to rebuttal, only to get blasted. It knocked him back and made him drop the thermos. Maddie dove for it as Jack fired more shots, and she was thankfully able to grab it before it hit the ground. However when she looked up, Phantom was gone.

"Mads! Did you see that!?" Jack asked. She looked up at him with a proud smile as he jogged over to her.

"I did!" she replied cheerfully. "You've gotten a lot better!" Jack puffed up proudly. "Where did Phantom go?"

"Dunno," he admitted, and his shoulders immediately fell a bit. "After I got him, he flew off. Musta been scared." He offered his hand out to her, and she accepted it.

"Probably," she agreed. She held the thermos up. "Least we got this back though." Jack nodded. "We'll put her back in the Zone later. Let's get some lunch."

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

Maddie made a point to make sure she was upstairs so that she could make sure Danny came home on time, given his grounding situation. While she waited, she began to make some cupcakes. As she was mixing batter, she heard the front door open and close.

"Hey Danny," she greeted from the kitchen. She glanced at the clock. He was ten minutes later than he normally would have come home, but it wasn't enough for her to say anything.

"...Hey mom," came the reply. He stepped into the kitchen, and Maddie glanced at him, only to do a double take. His right cheek was badly swollen from a bad bruise. Maddie immediately wiped her hands on a dish towel, staring at him.

"What happened?" she asked, stepping towards him. He stared at her in confusion before putting his hand to his face. He pressed his lips tightly together and didn't answer. She asked once more, more firmly. "Danny, what happened?"

He opened his mouth to say something, only to choke on nothing and close his mouth again. Maddie went to the freezer to get an ice pack. She motioned for him to sit down. He sat at the kitchen table, and she pulled a chair up to him. She pressed the ice pack to his face, and he took it from her, leaning his elbow on the table.

"I'll only ask you one more time," she began, only for Danny to angrily cut her off.

"I got beat up today, okay?" he replied, sounding exasperated. Maddie blinked.

"By who?" she asked. Danny gave her a sour look, and he refused to speak. "Danny…"

"I don't wanna talk about it," he finally spoke. He began to stand up. "Look, I'm fine. It's not a big deal."

"It's a huge deal!" Maddie argued. She grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to sit back down. "You're going to tell me what's going on right now. Who hurt you?"

"Just some dudes at school," he tried to keep his answers short. But Maddie was having none of that.

"But why?" she pressed. Danny stayed quiet. "Daniel James-"

"What do you want me to say, Mom?" he snapped. "That I constantly get my ass kicked for being queer? That every day I get reminded that they think I'm some freak that shouldn't be allowed to exist? Let alone in any kind of relative peace? People don't like me. Why do you think I want to get my name changed as soon as possible? Why I've been begging for surgery as a birthday gift? It's so that when I go to college, nobody will know."

"...I had no idea," she said slowly.

"Yeah, I know," he said shortly. He got up, managing to evade her touch again to go for the stairs. Before she could say anything else, he was upstairs, and she could hear his door closing.

What had gotten into him? Maddie had never heard Danny talk about any of those things to her before. How long had these feelings been going on? Why had he never talked to her before about this?

She forced herself to stand and return to her baking. Mindlessly, she began to fill her cupcake tray up with batter, slipping them into the oven when she heard noise in the basement. She frowned, quickly setting her timer before going down.

Phantom was there, looking through her stuff. Snooping around. He was carefully looking around, muttering to himself as he hunted for...something.

"Can I help you, Phantom?"

The ghost jumped, turning on his heel.

"I'm looking for the wishing ghost so I can undo a wish," he replied. She raised an eyebrow at his blunt honesty.

"What wish?" She asked. Phantom scowled, narrowing his eyes as he seemed to think hard.

"That's private," he replied. She glared back at him, but then it hit her.

"Well I wish you wouldn't lie to me!"

Her son couldn't lie to her. Because of the wishing ghost still trapped in the thermos. She hadn't had a chance to empty the thermoses of ghosts she had Jack had caught over the past two weeks.

"I suggest you leave through that portal then before I blast you through it," she said. "The wishing ghost is staying here with me." Phantom narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her.

"Not without that wishing ghost," he replied. Maddie picked a blaster off the table near her, pointing it at him. He held his hands up defensively. "Whoa, take it easy. Why do you want Desiree so bad? Don't you normally throw the ghosts back into the Ghost Zone anyway?"

"I do, and let's start with you," she replied. She pulled the trigger. It hit Phantom square in the chest, pushing him into the open portal. She quickly stormed up, slamming the closed button.

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

It was hours before Danny finally came down from upstairs. She knew that he had stayed upstairs, for once, instead of sneaking out again, from occasional footsteps and the sound of him talking on the phone. Maddie had actually just gotten off the phone with him, having called him to ask what he wanted from their favorite Chinese restaurant before she sent Jack out to pick it up. Soon as Jack was out the door, Danny came out of his room and downstairs. She gave him smile as he came into the living room.

"Hey sweetie, dad will b-"

"I know about the wish."

Maddie instantly felt guilt wash over her as Danny stared at her with a frown, arms crossed. She stayed where she sat on the couch.

"What makes you say that?" she questioned. Danny's lips tightened, and she knew that he wasn't going to answer her. "Danny-"

"And I know that you know about it!" he accused. "I've been through this kind of thing before! Why haven't you undone the wish yet?"

"Because you don't need to be lying to me!" Maddie finally snapped back as she got to her feet. "For once, I'm getting honest answers from you after almost three years of constant lie after lie!"

"And you're okay with this being how you get those answers?" Danny talked back. His fists balled up, though they stayed by his sides. "Instead of making me feel okay and comfortable telling you these things? Or wait for me to be ready to say something?"

Ouch. Maddie flinched, and she just knew that had Jazz been here...she'd be absolutely agreeing with Danny. And she knew in her gut that Danny was right. Maddie's shoulder slumped.

"I know," she said quietly. Danny looked completely taken aback. "...But why haven't you said anything? You know your dad and I love you so much. I had no idea you've been in this much pain."

Danny stared at the ground, shifting to lean against the doorway.

"...I didn't want you guys to feel like you were bad parents," he replied. "Because you're not. It's not your fault everybody else sucks, or that I have to wait for surgery or to get my name changed and everything. And you can't fix it. It's just how it is."

"Dad and I would have started fighting harder for you had we known," Maddie said softly. "All we ever want is for you and Jazz to be happy and healthy."

"Yeah, I know," Danny half-grumbled. "It's just...It's just how it is. And I can't even tell the therapist that, cause she keeps pushing back everything if I hint at being depressed about it."

"If that's the case, we can find a new therapist," Maddie replied. "One that'll take you more seriously." Danny shook his head.

"No, it's okay. I'll be done with school this year, and I'll be seeing a new one anyway when I go to college," he said. Maddie frowned.

"But still-"

"Mom, it's fine," he interrupted. He smiled. "Seriously." She sighed. "Please, just. Undo the wish."

"...Okay," she finally agreed. She began to walk towards the basement, only to pause, turning to him. "But first." Danny raised an eyebrow at her. "What were you and Sam doing up so late?" Danny gave her a sour look, rolling his eyes.

"...Sam's been having a hard time lately. Lots of girls at school bully her for the same reason as me, and it's just been hitting her super hard lately," he explained. "I was up late with her cause she was crying so much, and we fell asleep while I was holding her to make her feel better."

Maddie's heart twisted a bit. She truly wish she had known. And she already made a mental note to march into Casper High first thing Monday morning after having a long phone call with Pam that night. A call to Vlad too, to get in touch to see if he'd help hire a lawyer. She had absolute hell to raise, and a school she was ready to sue.

"But seriously," Danny's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "I'll eventually come and tell you these things when I'm ready. Don't rely on dumb ghost wishes."

"Yeah, I know," Maddie replied somberly. "I'm sorry, Danny." She took a few steps towards him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. After a moment, she felt him return the hug. She let go, cupping his cheeks and making him lean down a bit so she could kiss his forehead. "I just worry about you. I want you to feel like you can always come to me. You're my baby boy."

"I know, Mom," he smiled. "And I will when I need you, but I'm not a little kid. I can handle a lot of things on my own."

"Yeah, but you're still my baby," Maddie sighed. Hell, he and Jazz were both taller than her by now. They definitely got that from Jack. Or in Danny's case, he got nearly everything from him. Almost a mirror image the older he got. Danny's cheeks flushed a bit.

"Mo-om."

Maddie chuckled.

"Come on, let's go undo the wish. I have the wishing ghost still in the basement," she said. She paused. "But once we undo the wish, will you honestly tell me how you knew?"

Danny stared at her for a moment, seemingly thinking. And he nodded.

"Yeah. After dinner, just you and me," he promised. "I'll tell you the whole story. Start to finish."

[fireinmywoods]

Whenever you (gleefully) describe Jim's octopus-like sleeping preferences, we often see Bones complaining about how hard it is to escape when he has to pee. But how often is he getting up to pee in the night? Does he need to get this checked out, or is he really just an old man in body AND spirit?

I actually went back and fact-checked myself on this, wondering what exactly I’ve been communicating about poor Leonard’s urological health! It is indeed established in septenary that Leonard sometimes needs to get up to pee at night and that Jim makes this exceedingly difficult, but the phrasing leaves the frequency of these incidents rather open to interpretation, so allow me to clarify that it was intended to imply that this might happen at most once a night, and not necessarily every night.

In Leonard’s defense (and, frankly, my own), it's not abnormal to sometimes need to get up to pee once during the night, especially if you’re of a certain age and keep yourself well hydrated, and especially if, like Leonard and Jim, you're in the habit of frequently having a drink or two before bed. (Alcohol is a diuretic, meaning it makes you have to pee more, and as a health professional who works on sleep hygiene I feel obligated to advise you that it also disrupts REM sleep and overall negatively impacts your sleep quality and how rested you feel the next day.)

Now, it may not seem like getting up just once per night would be such an onerous task, but consider this:

You drift into a hazy awareness, heavy with lingering sleep, a touch overheated where the back of your neck meets the pillow and in the hundred places your lover's bare skin meets yours. His legs are twined through your own, his leaden arm is belted securely over your middle, his cheek is hot against your shoulder, and all along your side are plastered the slack skin-warm weight of chest and ribs and gently rising belly.

You're comfortable. You shouldn't be, maybe, but this is the least of the paradoxical contradictions you've had cause to reckon with since Jim Kirk came careening into your life, and all things considered you've decided it doesn't especially warrant fretting over. Jim sleeps like a boa constrictor that opted for a mid-meal nap, suffocatingly strong and entirely immovable, and you've never slept better in your life. Chalk it up as yet another mystery of the unfathomable universe.

You do kind of need to empty your bladder, though. It's nothing terribly urgent, but it's there, and you know it'll only grow more pressing by morning, when Jim will be drowsy-sweet and playful, offering and inviting the sort of languorous physical affection you find most difficult to resist. You'll want to laze around with him then, indulging in his idle touches, soaking up the easy intimacy of your bodies wound together, admiring the smoothness of his skin and the arcs of his comet trails as he hums and preens under your hands - and in order to grant your morning self that luxury, your groggy midnight self needs to take the hit and get up to use the head.

It really ought not to be such an ordeal. Unlike some other nights in recent memory, you're not obliged to step away from your campfire into the treacherous dark of a screeching alien jungle, nor to make profoundly awkward conversation with a chatty royal attendant before being admitted into the (God help you) communal relief chamber. Your own private, sanitized bathroom is only steps away, and making use of it will be a matter of less than a minute.

It would be one thing if you could slip unnoticed from the bed, the way you’ve done countless times before with past partners - if you could simply ease Jim down to the mattress and leave him resting peacefully in a heap of pale skin and fluttering eyelashes while you went and took care of business. You might even tuck a pillow into his arms to curl around in your absence, reassure him with a stroke to his lightly furrowed brow that you weren’t going far, and when you returned you'd gather him back against you with a sigh or a snuffle and drop near instantly back into the deep slumber that's still teasing at the edges of your reluctant consciousness.

Yeah, that would be nice. But, of course, nothing where Jim’s involved can ever be that easy.

You begin by levering your numb arm away from Jim's back, wincing at the stinging start of pins and needles, and even as you’re flexing your prickling fingers Jim is already registering his discontent, huddling even more tightly against your side with a low noise of distress, as though you'd thrown off a blanket to expose him to a biting winter chill.

You attempt to shift sideways, hoping against all reason and precedent that you might be able to slide free of Jim's grasp without needing to grapple with him, only to find yourself caged in still more inescapably by Jim's tensing limbs. He makes another sound, complaint and injury, the wounded cry of a man forsaken.

"Jim," you sigh, because at this point it's clear you're not getting away without verbal negotiation. You jiggle your tingling arm and shoulder under him, trying to jostle him into something resembling conscious reasoning. "Wake up."

“Mrmph.” Jim nuzzles your shoulder, obstinate and sweet, frustrating your efforts to muster up some nice productive impatience with him. Lord, how much simpler everyone’s lives would be if this recalcitrant little bastard weren’t so charming in his defiance.

“I gotta take a leak, kid. Loosen up some.”

This does seem to register. Jim grumbles another sulky noise into your shoulder, but his arm retracts slowly and grudgingly back over your belly, and his legs stir against yours in a feeble attempt at disentangling.

You take advantage of his weakened grip and ease yourself out of his clutches, rolling toward the edge of the bed and heaving your legs over to propel yourself into something resembling a seated position, and with your feet now firmly on the cool floor you think to yourself get a move on and now’s your chance and sooner you go sooner you can get back, all too aware that if you hesitate or look back now you’ll be trapped again.

So you get up and go, trudging across the short distance to the head, and when you’ve done your business and shuffled back it’s to find Jim still awake, as he always is, a familiar blurry-edged silhouette in the two percent light. As many times as you play out this scene, your fool heart still pangs a bit at the sight: the faint glint of his eyes seeking you out in the dark, the unspoken plea of his arm outstretched across your side of the bed.

“Budge over,” you say, though there’s plenty of space, because it’s the middle of the goddamn night and that’s no kind of time to allow yourself to feel any type of way about how Jim won’t sleep without you.

Jim draws his arm back some, a perfunctory concession, as much for show as your little pantomime of grievance as you pour your weary bones into bed and find yourself captured once more by the strangling embrace of the man you pray to God never stops reaching for you in the night.

[may-day-voice]

Prom Night Lights - The Beginning

Katsuki Bakugou Timeline | 172732014

please do not repost, but you have permission to reblog :)

• Watch/ Listen on YouTube: https://youtu.be/8SB9fJZ5a7s

• Read on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1112396862-katsuki-bakugou-pro-hero-au-172732014-prom-night

It was supposed to be a simple day. A simple, normal day filled with anticipation and excitement. The day when you stepped into the real world outside from the safety net. But you never prepared for what was to come, for the hurt that would inflict, for the dark to overshadow.

You weren’t prepared for your heart to break.

You grabbed hold of hands that grasped onto your fingers, hanging upside down in the air while maneuvering yourself a safe distance from the crash site. Out on patrol with fellow interns turned into a rescue mission when a massive traffic incident occurred in one of the most populous intersections in Musatafu. Cars and trucks were mangled or destroyed, billowing smoke into the air while emergency personnel made headway in tending to the wounded.

Meanwhile you floated towards the borders of the intersection, carefully dropping a casualty towards medics on the scene. Your hands were covered in blood and soot, having to pull those who were trapped within the metallic wreckage.

“That’s number three,” you called, still dangling aimlessly in the air.

“Impulse! We need help here!” Called a fellow intern from amongst the crash site.

With a click of your ankles, you landed onto the ground to push yourself back into the air, soaring towards your teammate above the fire and smoke. His large hands lifted part of a car, revealing a young woman in the crash, her eyes searching above while she breathed erratically.

“Don’t know how long I can hold this up,” warned your teammate, his usual stoic gaze now concentrating on keeping the mangled car lifted for access to the woman below.

“Here, grab my hand,” you ordered, floating slowly into the maw of the wreckage while reaching for the woman inside. The look in her eyes caught yours, finding the fear written all over them, terrified.

A slip of your teammate’s feet caused the car to creak, almost snapping onto you from above, your hands immediately pushing against the heavy wreck in reaction. Your eyes searched in his, concerned about the situation only to notice he found his footing again.

“I’m okay,” he reassured, holding the car back once more. “Go.”

You drew back to the woman, spotting her body recoil back inside in fear. With a deep breath, you slowly floated back in, hanging upside down with your hands outstretched towards her. “Come on, let’s get you out of here,” you coaxed, your open palm inviting her in.

Slowly, her shaking hand reached out, grabbing hold of yours. With both your hands securing her grip, you slowly floated out from the hole, taking the woman with you, her weight pulling at your arms before you spotted her feet clearing the maw.

“Let go now,” you called, watching your teammate finally relieve himself from the strain and the piece of metal crash into the wreckage that trapped a casualty.

Two hours. It took two hours to help clear casualties from the crash site. The aftermath left you and your teammates to be checked out by medics before being discharged from the incident, followed by your supervisor Kido back to the agency for a debriefing on today’s activities.

It felt like a quiet day, which was good for the most part. You scratched two hours of the day, plus another hour for debriefing and cleaning up. It allowed less strain on your body, and more focus on other events you had penciled in ever since-

“Man, you? A plus one? Lucky,” spat a classmate of yours inside the locker rooms. “I would kill to get past those gates.”

“You really don’t mean that,” you replied in jest.

“Oh no, I do. Truly, happily.”

“Have you figured out what you’re dressing in?” Spoke another, the same one who helped you on the rescue. “You should talk with him about that.”

“Coordination is key,” chirped the other.

“Guys, it’s a first time thing, okay?” You reassured. “They’re in the middle of graduating right now for all we know.”

“But to be invited to a prom of all things in UA? Whoever is the event coordinator is a genius.”

The vibrations of your phone caught your ear, spotting a text message appearing on your screen. A sneak peek of the message was the usual - an ETA for tonight. That was all. You noticed the messages were getting shorter and sharper with your beau. It has been over the past year. Still, being the final year in UA was probably a stressful time for students from across the board. You had felt the pressure yourself at your schooling.

“You think if I could catch Todoroki’s eye maybe-“

“Stopping you there,” interrupted one of your classmates, his drowsy aloof eye staring at the other. “He’s probably taken.”

“You don’t know that!”

“He talks about someone from his school very frequently. I think he’s taken.”

Another buzz from your phone caught your ear, checking the screen to spot a message from someone unexpected. Eijirou Kirishima’s name was emblazoned in the text box with a video attached. Watching your classmates bicker between themselves gave you the perfect opportunity for you to view this message without their attention, opening it to reveal the stage of the graduation. Perhaps this was very recent, considering the time of day it was before a familiar blond student walked up to the podium. You couldn’t hold back your smile, watching Katsuki Bakugou be congratulated on his graduation day, and turn irately towards the camera following Kirishima’s loud and rambunctious celebratory yell from the crowd.

“Did your beau send something juicy?” Chirped your classmate, turning to find a coy smile on her face.

“What? No!” You deflected, placing your phone away. “I gotta make tracks anyway.”

“You better take photos or it didn’t happen!”

You waved both of your teammates goodbye, hoisting your backpack onto your shoulders to add more weight to your less than convenient gravity. Stepping out of the agency, you tapped your toes before making your way towards the tall white gates of UA. Despite the lack of information you gave to your teammates back at the agency, you had already picked out your formal wear. You had planned to make a day of UA’s graduation for their students, knowing your own from your establishment was happening first thing tomorrow morning. The more time you could spend with the city’s foremost Pro-Hero candidates equaled sacrificing one night of preparation for your graduation, at least you convinced yourself as such.

Everything had been planned ahead of time, thanks to your beau’s meticulous need for timing. However, you had other plans ahead of his own, ones you had announced to him during his plans which, to your dismay and unsurprising predictability, did not please him. Reassurance wasn’t his strong point, and you’ve learnt it wasn’t yours as well. At least when trying to ease his passive aggressive tantrums.

Another buzz of your phone caught your attention again from those thoughts, picking it up to find a text message from Izuku Midoriya of all people.

Can’t wait to see you again! You’re on the way?

Actually, I’ll be another 20 minutes. How was the ceremony?

It was great! Everyone’s excited here at the dorms. I’ll be setting up Gym Gamma for tonight, so meet me there?

And Kaachan can’t wait either.

You chuckled at the words, wondering how Bakugou must be feeling after today. It made you wonder about the months leading up to today. In fact, it seemed a bit odd, watching him at the agency being almost cold and aloof, answering you in short and distancing himself half of the time. Again, UA was a prestigious academy. You thought the same way that the stress must be getting to the students.

Further fact, that short text felt like-

Yeah, I’ll meet you at Gym Gamma. Let Bakugou know I can’t wait either.

Lately it had been this way, communicating with other students rather than Bakugou himself these past months leading to the end of the school year. You’ve heard from Midoriya, Kirishima, even Denki Kaminari spoke to you a few texts here and there. Bakugou however had gone dark some of the time. You recalled a few times in your second year having constant late night calls with him, some of those nights being a saving grace when the both of you were too busy to just stop for a coffee or a shake. But nowadays, he had been-

Hey! You coming over soon? Kaminari is practically begging for a player two on his team.

I’ll be there. Just stopping by somewhere first. Maybe another 25?

You better hurry up. Bakugou’s practically wiping the floor with him in this game.

Well, another thing to slot in, but nothing that detracted from your original plans. With a smile, you continued on your walk to UA, hands on your straps while you felt the strain on your shoulders once more.

——

Soon, the familiar white gates appeared. As per usual, you stood by the entrance, waiting for some time before being verified to enter the grounds. It took a while for this process. At first, you were accompanied by your beau when he came along to invite you, or when he had to make it for Management classes. However, over the years, it became an infrequent visit with the Hero students. Lately though, it was between how quickly the guards could phone a friend. Even more so, it was less your beau, and more so one of the Hero students, whether it was Midoriya, Kirishima, or even Shouto Todoroki of all of them. It used to be Bakugou, but even he had been slow to answer.

After being granted entry, you immediately made your way to Gym Gamma, watching the large group of students prepare for the night. You had not seen so many fairy lights in your life while they were being strung up high across the pathways and into the auditorium. It was a mess, but it was organized chaos while you traversed between wandering students and piles of decorative materials for the festivities to follow.

“Midoriya!” You called from across the auditorium, spotting the green-haired boy ahead. His eyes turned towards you with a smile, lightly jogging his way through the auditorium.

“Hey, how are things?” He asked with a hug, his large arms engulfing you.

“Pretty good, we were in the middle of a rescue mission in the city,” you replied with a smile. “But that’s all the excitement today.”

“You’re not excited about tonight?”

“I mean, yeah, of course I am! Congratulations! Think I can collect my clothes?”

“Oh, right, I don’t have them on me because of everything happening right now, but they’re at Heights Alliance.”

“Then, why did you ask me to come here first?”

“I wanted to say hi.”

You chuckled at his reply, happy to see Midoriya well. There had been some controversy with all that happened throughout the years, things that you felt were considered taboo, however, stories came with time. You noticed the extra scars across his body, also recalling the scars Bakugou had received during Musatafu’s darker times. The worry that drowned you was immense, only subsiding after months of silence, and that one phone call from Todoroki surprisingly.

With a goodbye, you left Midoriya to his devices in the auditorium, leaving him behind for Heights Alliance. Eventually both shoulders felt sore from the weights in your backpack, deciding to only hang the bag from one shoulder and feeling your toes scraping the ground. According to the predetermined ETA, you had a few hours to spare. Still, it felt like you had very little time left until you stood before Class 3-A’s dorms. Midoriya had explained he left your formal wear with Bakugou, who by his description of the event, reluctantly agreed. With a heavy sigh, you made your way up the stairs, only to bump into somebody walking out from the dorms.

“Oh sorry!” You blurted.

“No, you’re good!” Quickly piped the student before they walked away from the stairs, lightly jogging towards the large pathway towards the school. You watched them take flight, trailing with a dress suit on their shoulders only to shrug it off and continue into the dorms, knocking on the door.

Luckily, that student left it ajar.

“Hello?” You called inside, spotting very familiar faces by the lounges in the foyer.

“Yes! My player two!” Yelled Kaminari, quickly running up to you and pulling you inside. “Kaachan keeps whipping my ass!”

“That’s because you suck, Dunce face!” Growled Bakugou, his red eyes flashing towards the door before they laid on you.

“You made it just in time. Kaminari was getting desperate,” voiced Kirishima with a toothy grin.

You nervously giggled while being dragged inside, noticing how careful Kaminari was to keep your feet on the ground. It had been a couple of years now, but ever since that scare, you figured Kaminari had learnt his lesson. Otherwise, by the way Bakugou was, it came as no surprise that Kaminari was just being more careful around him. You smiled at the irate blond before Kaminari handed you a controller, soon convincing Kirishima to join in a game of teams. It was a whirlwind of a greeting, suddenly being sucked into a game of wits and fun with the Hero students. It was the release you needed filled with laughter, for at least a good hour losing to Kirishima and Bakugou.

After admitting defeat and a quick conversation with the students, Bakugou led you to his dorm, taking the elevator up to the fourth floor. The ride was silent, leaving you to wonder what was going on through his head, stopping yourself a few times to speak until the doors opened on his floor. From the corner of your eye, you noticed a familiar dual-haired student speaking with another by the stairs with quiet voices before being led to Bakugou’s door, watching Bakugou unlock it-

“Congratulations,” you finally spoke, catching his ear. “I got to witness your graduation, kinda.”

“What do you mean?” He asked gruffly while allowing you in.

“Kirishima sent me a video.”

“That Shitty Hair sent it to you?”

“I thought you knew.”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“Please don’t.”

A grunt escaped Bakugou’s lips before he made his way to his closet, pulling out your outfit already packed in a large box. You smiled up at him, taking the box from him and placing it on his bed.

“Thanks Bakugou, I really appreciate it,” you warmly said while you opened the lid.

“What are you doing?” he asked with genuine confusion.

“Getting dressed.”

“Here?”

“Well, Midoriya offered to help but since he’s been put on the event committee I have to do it in your room.”

“So the nerd was going to dress you?”

“Do you want to help me?”

The look on Bakugou’s face was one of confusion, anger, and frustration - a fairly normal reaction for the most part. However, unbeknownst to you, he felt a flush of heat wash through his cheeks. This was never discussed between Midoriya and himself when he agreed to hold onto your outfit for tonight. In fact, the getting dressed part was never mentioned. His thoughts held his focus until he glanced your way, already stripping off your shirt.

“Wait a goddamn minute, Lightweight!” He yelled, stopping you from stripping any further. “At least, let me turn my back on you.”

You soon found Bakugou’s back indeed turned to you, looking out his window instead. You couldn’t help a small giggle before you walked up to him, grabbing hold of his wrist. “I just need your hand on my shoulder,” you reassured, placing his hand across the crook of your neck. “Just ground me. I won’t take long.”

Bakugou grumbled under his breath, but still kept his eyes outside of his room. Every movement you made caused his fingers to slip on your skin, feeling the tension in your muscles. He figured you had that backpack on for some time to keep you from flying away, but he also felt something else other than that. The short amount of time you spent with everyone downstairs gave him an odd feeling. Even the elevator ride up to his room was tense. Bakugou knew he hadn’t been keeping contact whether at the agency or on call, but today he saw something that you wanted to say.

It bothered him.

“Okay, you can let go now,” you said, allowing Bakugou to release his fingers and turn around to see you now fully dressed in your attire. What surprised him the most was that you were on the ground without any apparatus to hold you.

“Bracelets,” you explained, showing off metallic braces on your wrists. “And anklets. It took a while for support to come up with something practical for social outings.”

“Um… you look… good,” he complimented, taking you by surprise.

“Thanks, I’m glad you think so. Anything that’s good for Lord Explosion Murder-“

“Shut it with that name! It’s Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight!”

You giggled again, finding the joy of pushing his buttons sometimes before you noticed the time - close to the ETA.

“I’ll see you tonight, God Dynamight?” You asked with a smile. All you received was a scoff, enough of a response from Bakugou before leaving his dorm room and heading for the elevators. On the way, you walked past Todoroki, greeting with a quick hello before disappearing into the elevators, eager for the night to start.

Bakugou couldn’t stop this feeling that had him aloof and frustrated. He had tried to tell himself otherwise, focusing on his studies and his credentials to become a certified Pro-Hero. But with every phone call, every text, every passing moment he saw you, something stirred. It felt good, but it was wrong. You were with someone else - that Management student - that he knew did not treat you with the respect you deserved. The number of late night phone calls were proof of that, and yet, you still stayed with the man.

He couldn’t fathom your choice. And he hated it.

“Are you busy?” Asked Todoroki by his open door.

“Does it look like I’m busy?” Spat Bakugou.

“No.”

“What is it, Icy-Hot?”

“Are you going to do something about it?”

Bakugou eyed the dual-haired man, filled with anger from his thoughts, but silent without a scoff or a grumble. “What’s it to you?” he questioned with a sneer.

“We all know he’s bad news,” continued Todoroki. “Nepotism at its best.”

“Look who’s talking Half-and-Half, son of the Number One.”

“The point is that he’s rotten, never worked a day in his life, and was given a silver spoon. All signs of an arrogant, spoiled, hand-fed individual. And he doesn’t deserve them.”

Bakugou turned his glare onto Todoroki, noticing the seriousness in his eyes before he walked away from the door, leaving Bakugou with his last words. The blond stood in his room, contemplating on Todoroki’s words and the number of conversations to and fro about this feeling. He knew that the Management student was a bad egg, someone undeserving, yet he knew he couldn’t actively try to convince you. Even though he had time and time again called your beau a moron, it wasn’t enough.

For once, he hated not being direct over these years.

He grumbled while he rummaged through his closet, pulling out the outfit Kirishima had picked out for him for tonight. Perhaps seeing you later would ease the tension headache that persisted.

——

Night fell across the sky with the dying light of oranges turning into purples and the stars twinkling in the clear. The number of students that made their way to Gym Gamma came in waves, including the Hero students who came as a group. Despite his friends trying to persuade him to join, Bakugou advised he needed some time to get ready, earning a teasing jeer from Kaminari. Bakugou cared less about what words were shared, preferring to keep himself hidden after a majority of students had made their way to the prom planned for their graduation.

He was left to his thoughts, hoping that you had already made your way to Gym Gamma with your date for the night. He didn’t want to see that picture of you in his arms, knowing you chose him. That frustration brewed, coming to terms with his want of asking you to the event for months, and not going through with it.

After some time to his thoughts, Bakugou made his way, walking alone on the grounds of Heights Alliance. The quiet was deafening despite the loud music catching his ear ahead in the auditorium. He felt trapped in this emotional limbo, desperately needing to do something to satiate his need to see you. Pulling out his phone, he located your number, immediately texting without any hesitation.

I’m expecting a dance.

He smirked, feeling some sense of pride in himself, and hopefully reprieve from his own emotions until the sound of a phone caught his ear, one that immediately received a text. Bakugou stopped, turning towards the entrance of the school lecture halls, past the shoe lockers that lined the room. The closer he made his way, the louder the sobs, finding your cries echoing in the empty halls.

“Lightweight?” He called, catching your attention before you quickly tried to wipe away the tears that stained your cheeks.

From around the corner of the stairwell, you found him climbing towards you, his red eyes glaring at the sight of you sitting on the stairs, leaning underneath the railings.

“What did he do?” He quickly snapped.

“Nothing,” you spoke through your tears, attempting to calm yourself down. “He did nothing.”

“Like hell he didn’t!”

“No, Bakugou, just-“

“I’m gonna kill him.”

You saw a rage unlike anything you had seen in the blond. Despite your emotional state, you had gotten used to Bakugou’s anger, even understood it. But this was almost unspoken of, seering through his very core. Bakugou lost control. His own emotions spilled upon seeing you torn and worn, used and spat out as opposed to how happy you looked hours ago. Whatever frustrations he held, they were unleashed with a furious rage.

“He broke up with me,” you admitted, gaining Bakugou’s attention from the whirlwind of emotions he felt. “He didn’t want me to drag him through the mess that I am. I didn’t save enough. I wasn’t fast enough. I couldn’t-“

You held your head in your hands, trying to keep the tears at bay until you felt large hands grab hold of yours, pulling them away to reveal yourself to Bakugou, his eyes glaring into your red sore ones.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Asked Bakugou, his voice painted with a calm tone despite his gruff voice.

“… am I a Hero?” You asked, sniffling while your eyes looked away from his. “Am I good enough?”

Bakugou was surprised and yet confused by the question. He was still trying to understand his own feelings, this abrupt need to protect you everywhere you went despite your own independent and wayward nature.

“Five. I only saved five in two hours,” you continued. “And there were more bodies-“

You stopped your breath, holding your tears back from the thought, before the realization dawned on Bakugou. He had kept up with the news recently, a way to pass the time while waiting in his room earlier that night. An incident occurred in Musatafu involving multiple cars in a massive crash, and he recalled the body count.

He held onto your hands tightly, now realizing your hesitation to speak or start conversations. It would’ve been at the forefront of your mind, only masked by the smile you had all day for UA’s graduating classes. The next thought to follow left a bitter taste, wondering what that Management student must have said to you to think this way. With what Todoroki and he had discussed earlier that day, Bakugou could only fathom the disgusting nature of your interaction with someone who looked down at failures.

Tears continued to well up in your eyes. They wouldn’t stop. You couldn’t until you felt a large pair of arms hug you close, pushing you against the stairs but closer to his chest, engulfed in his embrace.

“You’re more than good enough,” whispered Bakugou in your ear, comforting your head against his shoulder. “You don’t need my approval or anyone else’s for that matter. You make that choice for yourself. You’re smart, you have common sense, half the time, and… you’re one of the few people I can talk to.”

He pulled you away, his eyes now glued back on yours while you stared into his, swallowing the words you just heard moments ago.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he slowly started. “You deserve better than that trash. You know I already call him a moron, because he is one. You-“

“You ground me,” you interrupted.

“What?”

“You’ve always grounded me Bakugou. You’ve kept me close. You’ve always looked out for me. Why?”

Bakugou choked, wondering what to say, almost feeling like he was cornered, surrounded by the emotions that had been drowning him for months. Was it right? Was this the moment?

“I’m sorry I asked,” you quickly quipped, trying to stand before you felt yourself pull back into Bakugou, his lips crashing into yours. It was a light kiss, despite the rush into it, almost hesitant on its touch before you eased into his rhythm. He was warm, tender, and it lit a spark that you wished would never stop while you held onto his neck. He pulled away slowly, caressing your cheek and embracing your breath on his, feeling every part of you while you sat by the stairs.

“You’re worthy to be a Hero,” whispered Bakugou. “And I’m proud to have you stand with me out there.”

“I’m worthy to be next to God Dynamight?” You asked with laughter breaking through your tears.

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead and laugh.”

Whatever sadness that broke your heart was mended in that moment, by none other than Bakugou of all people. Still, for all those moments the both of you shared, you felt a bond with him, one that incited jealousy from a growing toxic partnership. He was an explosive light that brightened the dark. He was the warmth that healed the pain.

“Still, the God Dynamight will always keep me grounded,” you continued with a smile. “Starting from zero.”

“Just call me Katsuki, dumbass,” he inferred with a growl, causing another giggle to erupt from you. “How about you come to my graduation prom with me, Twinkle Toes?”

Today was meant to be a simple day, but it wasn’t simple at all. It was more than that.

It was the start of something wonderful.

[holykillercake]

Red String

𝕊ℍ𝔸ℕ𝕂𝕊 𝕏 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕖!ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

word count: 2.8k

summary: You had any place in the world to moor, a stable and safe summer paradise somewhere in the South Blue, or you could visit the winter island where cherry blossoms painted the freezing horizon pink. The world was on the menu, and yet you chose to break into a Yonko territory.

highlight:  ¨What about you, Y/N? Will you try to put your hands on me?¨ 

warning: Look out for your arm, it might melt with the fluff.

notes: Hi, guys! This was an anon request for Shanks x Marine Reader. I was given the freedom to write whatever I wanted, so I hope you guys like it! <3 Dear, anon, I apologize for the time it took and I hope you read it! 

𝕃𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤, 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕤, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖!

¨I have to say, not a usual place for a Vice Admiral to enjoy a vacation.¨ a smirk bent your lips as you heard the playful voice of the man who courted you with another drink. 

¨Well, I´m no usual Vice Admiral.¨

¨No one doubts that.¨ He put the sword on the table and pulled a chair, sitting close to you. ¨You have grown, Y/N.¨

¨You have aged.¨

¨Oi, not very nice. You hurt my feelings.¨ the red-haired placed the hand on his chest, over the heart, faking an offended tone. 

¨Mission accomplished.¨ 

You stared at each other for about four seconds before breaking into laughter. As always, Shanks was louder, banging his fist on the wooden table and vocalizing his amusement to anyone who had ears to hear. 

¨It´s been a long time, Y/N.¨ he wheezed, still recovering from his overreaction.

¨Yes, it has, Red hair.¨

¨Red hair? Really? I mean, you tried to kill me way too many times already. You gotta call me by my name.¨ You chuckled, sipping your drink. ¨Especially when you´re at my house.¨

You grinned, shaking your head and biting your lip. Of course, the bastard would not let this opportunity slip. 

After years of non-stop hard work, you received a few weeks off duty. That meant that the world could split open, the moons could fall into the atmosphere followed by the sun, and you would not have to move a single finger.  

Issho-san would handle that better in any way. 

You had any place in the world to moor, a stable and safe summer paradise somewhere in the South Blue, or you could visit the winter island where cherry blossoms painted the freezing horizon pink. The world was on the menu, and yet you chose to break into a Yonko territory. 

However, the Yonko in question was more than just an Emperor of the Sea. Your lives entangled at a very young age when the Pirate King was still alive, and Garp had melanin left in his hair. 

You were just two snotty brats fighting your Captains´ battles. 

¨Anyway,¨ he chugged his drink and asked for another one. ¨I missed you in Marineford.¨ 

¨Well, I guess I missed Marineford myself. Had a good view, though.¨ you answered nonchalantly. 

¨What do you mean?¨

¨I had an underling transmit me the whole thing.¨

¨Isn´t that handy?¨

You tried not to laugh. It was stupid, but every time you had Shanks and hand in the same sentence, you felt the urge to laugh.

¨I wanted to see Luffy.¨ you said.

¨Why not go there, then?¨

¨Duty called somewhere else.¨ you shrugged. ¨Besides, I would have been no help for him.¨

¨You´re saying you wouldn´t help him?¨ Shanks carried a suspicious tone in his voice.

¨Of course I wouldn't help him.¨ You took a sip of your drink. ¨But thanks... for stopping that madness.¨ 

The man casually stretched his arms above his head, tilting his head back, enjoying the warm sun.

¨No biggie. You owe me another one, and we should be fine.¨ he smiled.

¨Who´s counting?¨

¨I am.¨ 

¨I already stopped hunting you, Shanks. Isn´t that enough?¨

¨Not on my book, Y/N.¨

For a long portion of your life, you had a personal mission to give the Red Hair the same fate as his Captain. Whenever his crew was located, you would be the one hunting them. No one dared to tell you otherwise. 

By that time, you had no significant position. Maybe a Lieutenant, Captain tops. But being related to the Hero of the Marines, well, that granted you some free passes, and as long as you could hand Shanks´head in a tray, a little nepotism didn´t bother you. 

Actually, although everyone saw you as Garp´s relative, you were just his first protegé, his first rescued dog. Apparently, the highly ranked officers were going through boring times and decided to pay their dues by doing charity.

The only one you got to know was Sengoku´s kid. Rosinante was his name. To this very day, you could not think of him without the twist in your heart. 

Even you didn´t know how to describe it, and honestly, you didn´t care. Was the job done at the end of the day? Good. 

That was all that mattered until another pawn entered the game, a very troublesome one, by the way. Slept like a rock and ate all your food. You couldn´t help but fall in love with little Monkey D. Luffy. 

He was the one to give you the answer you had stopped looking for a while ago.

In order to be his older sister, you had to be Garp´s granddaughter. Everyone loved the idea, except for the man himself. 

You were as keen as Garp to make Luffy become a great Marine. You bought him tailor-made marine onesies and shared stories about the seas. Whenever he spotted you approaching with the leather book in your hands, he would get restless. 

The onesies, however, those never lasted. They were thrown in a boiling dumpster altogether with your dream of him joining you in a job one day.

The sun was about to set, and you had just returned from a long and intricate mission when you received a call from Makino saying that Luffy had gotten into some trouble. 

Not only that, The Red Hair Pirates were somehow involved. It was all you heard before hanging off the den den mushi and hopping in a Marine ship, headed to Foosha Village.  

The idea of Shanks causing Luffy any pain or just giving him a hard time made you turn into a beast. But your bloodshot eyes were washed clean by the image of your brother, safe and sound, hanging out with Red Hair, who seemed rather... different. 

¨Why would you do that?! What do you want, Red Hair?!¨ 

A lot of things went through your head, but none of them could explain why a pirate, why him, would sacrifice his arm to save Luffy. There was no way he didn´t know about your little brother´s connections. 

¨I want to pay you a drink. But only if you stop yelling.¨ 

With a swing of his hand and a smile, Makino appeared with a jug of beer before you could spit fire on him again. 

¨They´ve been really good at keeping Luffy entertained this past year, Y/N-san.¨ she said, kind as usual, before leaving.

You sighed and took a seat by his side. 

¨Why did you do that?¨

¨I bet on his life. Just that. Why is that a problem? You don´t want to feel grateful for a pirate?¨ 

Your grip tightened around the cold glass, teeth clenching and knuckles turning white. 

¨No.¨

Gratitude was never the problem. You would be grateful to anyone who risked their lives for Luffy, but he... you needed to hate him. But no matter how much you tried, you couldn´t get yourself to do it. 

¨I don´t want you thinking that I owe you anything.¨

¨You don´t have to owe me anything, Y/N. But we´ve known each other for a while now, so... we both know that you will.¨ 

His lips turned into an honest smile, no teasing behind it, and you wished not to have your heart beating faster for it. 

¨You don´t kn-¨

¨Y/N!¨ Luffy entered the bar, running to you with the brightest of the smiles on his face.¨Are you done? I have to show you something!¨ he asked, pulling the fabric of your coat.

¨Oi, behave Luffy, I´ll be done in-¨

¨Nooo!¨ he pouted before turning to the opposite side and pulling one of his impish grins ¨Look what I can do! Gomu gomu no...¨ 

His tiny hand balled into a fist, which you watched stretch all the way to the opposite side of the room before coming back and hitting him in the face. 

Did his arm just...      

The air froze in the room. You blinked a couple of times, hearing a few gasps around the bar, your gaze fixed in the same place his hand was seconds ago.

¨Luffy-kun, why don´t you come outside with me?¨ Makino extended her hand for him to take. ¨I´ll bring some meat.¨

The kid screamed in excitement and followed her, drool dripping down his chin. 

So close, Shanks. So close. He thought, lowering his head on the counter and waiting to get chewed up. However, after a few unscathed seconds, the red-haired lifted his head, almost not believe his eyes. 

That was the first and last time you bowed to a pirate. 

Of course, later on, you punched him for letting Luffy eat a Devil Fruit. 

You swore to leave him and his crew alone, as long as they did not cause bigger problems, which they eventually did, but you had a debt you could never pay, and you ended up focusing on other things. 

Those things made it difficult for you to visit Luffy as much as you wanted, but since Garp had sent him to live with Dadan, you could sleep with a clean consciousness. 

Whenever you paid him visits, he would tell you about these other kids, whom he considered brothers. One you got to meet, Sabo, smart and polite. The other, however, ran from you like you were a freaking plague. 

Ace, another one with whom you had an inestimable debt. 

¨Humor me, Y/N. If not Foosha, why here?¨

You shrugged.

¨I was passing by, and the place seemed quite enjoyable.¨ 

¨Hm.¨ the wind blew stronger, turning the gentle swishing of the palm trees into a harsher rustling. ¨Should I get my men ready for a conflict?¨

¨Relax, Shanks. Right now, this is the safest place on earth.¨

¨What do you mean?¨ he asked, genuinely curious. 

¨Oh, come on.¨ you scoffed. ¨Not even the World Government will try to put their hands on you, and I´ll kill anyone who dares to ruin my vacation.¨

¨What about you, Y/N? Will you try to put your hands on me?¨ 

His gaze was heavy on you, conquering aura filling the place. You looked at him with narrowed eyes and a smirk growing on your lips. 

This guy...

You harnessed the moment to take in his features, a lot more mature than you remembered. Although the scars were deeper and he seemed more tired, his hair shone like fresh blood, and his eyes... you were afraid to drown in them. 

¨What would you do if I decided to put my hands on you?¨ you bit your lip. ¨I heard you´ve been terrorizing some kids lately.¨

¨Gotta give them a run for their bounties, right?¨ He laughed. ¨But I also heard some interesting things about you, Y/N.¨

You raised your eyebrows as if you were encouraging him to tell you more. 

¨Apparently, I´m not the only one spending recreational time with young pirates. And there I thought Marines weren´t supposed to hunt Warlords of the Sea.¨

A shiver ran down your body, already aware of the subject he was about to bring up.

¨Well, I have no idea what you´re talking about.¨ You said, giving him your best oblivious eyelash bat. 

¨Oh yeah? Because it was brought to my attention that you made some business with... what´s his name again?¨ he pretended exaggeratedly to think about it ¨Ah, Trafalgar Law.¨

¨Only time I spoke to him, he was a Warlord as well. And I just wanted to thank him for helping Luffy in Marineford.¨

¨You´re gonna start lying to me at this point of our relationship?¨ Shanks teased to eager a bit of the tension, and a scoff left your mouth.

¨First, you´re delusional. Second, you´re too nosey for your own good.¨ 

The two of you laughed along like you were not natural enemies.

¨Did you get to meet Luffy in Dressrosa? Heard they made an alliance.¨

¨Hm, yeah. But no, couldn´t get myself to do it.¨

You frowned, hurting for have had your little brother so close but not being brave enough to approach him. Good thing he had no idea about your presence in the scene, and you could trust Law´s discretion to keep it that way. 

¨He doesn´t hate you, you know.¨

¨Yeah, I know...¨

That was true. Luffy didn´t hate you for not helping him in Marienford, just like he didn´t hate Garp for standing in his way. He had too big of a heart for that. 

Shanks let you have your time in silence, empathizing with your feelings. He too had to make sacrifices by standing his ground before.

¨What now?¨ he asked.

¨What now?¨ 

¨Garp is retired. Joker is down. What´s holding you back?¨

The air got stuck in your lungs. The reality you had been running from, the question for which you postponed to find an answer. 

When Garp took you in, the alternatives available for you were restricted, to say the very least. It was either accept the kindness of a stranger or die. He taught you his trade and molded you into one of the best-skilled marines. 

As the time passed and you learned the ugly truth behind the World Government, the disgust and disbelief made you want to leave. Fortunately, your life was not stained by the passage of a Celestial Dragon, but how were you supposed to protect them, aware of the atrocities they afflicted to people?

At the same time, how could you leave Garp after everything he did for you? Of course, he would survive if you disappointed him that much, but you owed him your life. 

What made you stay, however, was something much less pleasant than a lifetime debt. Thirteen years ago, evil prevailed, and you lost something really important. Or rather, someone. 

Commander Donquixote Rosinante. Marine code 01746. 

He had a sense of justice like no one else. He was strong, honest, and fair. Did he make you want to pull your hair out every time he lit himself on fire? Yes. Did it bother you to have stains on your tatami because he dropped hot tea on it? Yes. He possessed the ability to get you on your nerves, but he was your family. 

You were supposed to be the greatest. 

Long story short, that night, at Swallow Island, you left with more than just his dead body. You inherited his will. 

You swore to take down the man responsible for shortening his life, and hopefully, in a later day, you could meet the little boy about whom he spoke so highly. 

It took you thirteen years. No more ties of the past, no more strings on you. 

Well, just one, if you were to be entirely honest with yourself. A string of a stupid tale, a nonsense legend, a foolish myth. The Thread of Destiny, supposed to connect two people together. They say the thread may stretch or tangle, but it shall never break. 

Bullshit. There´s no such a thing. 

But assuming that there was, why did you feel that if you pulled it to its very end, what you would find would be red as well? 

Red as the vest Luffy wore diligently; red as the nose of a cranky apprentice; red as the pompous sails of the Oro Jackson; red as the locks of the man capable of stopping wars with words.

Would you dare to be anything else? Could you step out of your own life like this? Could you abandon everything you fought for all these years? 

¨You know, I´ve said it in the past, but I´ll say it again. We could use someone like you in our crew.¨ 

You gave him a two-second smirky scoff before frowning again. 

Were you worthy enough to owe yourself the chance to choose? What did it mean, the justice coat of a Vice Admiral you carried so proud on your shoulders?

If piracy took a lot from you in the past, could piracy, or a pirate, give you everything back? 

¨Y/N?¨

¨Hm?¨ You hummed, gaze locked on the lethargic view. 

Hot puffs of air played with your hair and involved your skin in a warm hug. You could hear the gentle sound of the waves crashing on the shore, coastal birds cooing and the wind whistling over the rocks. 

¨Do you think, maybe, one day... I could ask you out?¨

No matter how many times you rewound the tape, you couldn´t find a different answer, a plausible reason for the burning feeling you held for him, whatever that meant. 

From the first time you put your eyes on each other, a contract was opened without even a handshake. A deal was set without your acknowledgment. An ironic fate tied you to the same string. 

¨Yeah... maybe.¨