#i blow a kiss towards the nearest train for him

[icyachr]

[sets this down for the ingo fans] pspspspspspspspsps

He may not have won, but he's my #1 Tumblr Sexyman (and by extension, Emmet LMAO)

[welcome-to-hawkins]

Okay I’m sharing my nasty thoughts about that van with you if you don’t mind sjsjsj

Hear me out, making out with Eddie in his van and he’s fingering you in your seat but because it’s been a few weeks since that little knight fuck session lmao you forgot about the rule only he definitely hasn’t 👀 so he does everything he can to make you break it and you inevitably do without even realizing what’s happening so you’re a bit confused when instead of kissing you and telling you his "pretty girl did such a good job" he’s just staring and says that "you’re in deep trouble" 🏃🏼‍♀️🏃🏼‍♀️🏃🏼‍♀️🏃🏼‍♀️

No but I’m with you 👀

It started out innocently enough, he’d suggested you watch him and his band rehearse on Saturday.

When he picked you up you shared a quick kiss but nothing more, and when you’d climbed into the seat and he’d leaned across to buckle your seatbelt for you you thought nothing of it.

Except you were wearing that skirt again. That goddamned skirt that made your ass look amazing and made him want to bend you over the nearest surface. And tucked into it was his Hellfire shirt… I mean it really wasn’t fair to expect him to keep his hands to himself.

So when his hand slid across your thigh and started to drift up your skirt, well who would blame him?

Deft fingers worked their way into your panties, curling around the lace and tugging them to the side.

“Eddie, stop! What are you doing, you’re driving!”

He didn’t respond, didn’t even bother to look at you as his fingers dipped between your legs, swiping two fingers through your wetness, dragging them up and spreading it around your clit.

Eddie kept his eyes trained on the road while he touched you, pushing two fingers inside you and curling them. His palm ground against you with every flick of his wrist.

Legs spread, skirt flipped around your waist and head twisted to watch him, you looked obscene.

“Fuck Eds. M’close”

He chuckled darkly, finally turning to you, “come then, pretty girl”.

And with a particularly rough thrust of his fingers against your g-spot, you did. Your moan was loud and high pitched as your arousal soaked his hand and the seat below you.

Before you even had time to recover Eddie had pulled into the side of the road.

You turned to him, cheeks rosy as you came down from the high, and found him staring.

“What are you doing? I can suck you off while you drive, we’re gonna be late if you stop” you preempted his next words with a grin.

“Do you think you deserve my cock right now?” He spat, “since you can’t even follow the only van rule?”

“What? Eddie I don’t…” you didn’t get chance to finish before his hand shot up and was wrapped around your throat, pressing you back against the seat while he looked over you.

“Who?”

“D-daddy” you choke out.

“Good. Now stop acting like a brainless slut and think, what did I say the van rule was?”

His words have your hips rolling up towards him searching for friction, and then a lightbulb goes off, “no getting your seats dirty”.

Your eyes follow his to the sticky wet patch between your legs, smearing across the leather.

“Just couldn’t listen, could ya? Now I’ve got to punish you.” He didn’t sound nearly as upset about that as his words suggested, lips curving upwards into a sadistic smile.

“Now turn round, ass up”.

“But wasn’t my fault! You started touching me and~” again you don’t finish your sentence, this time because he has grabbed your thighs and flipped you on his own, knees pressed against the seat and face pressed against the window.

“Did I ask?” He rips your panties all the way off and flips your skirt up once more, “now shut up and take it”.

You could see the cars speeding past as he groped and kneaded the flesh of your ass. Your soaked pussy clenching around nothing when he finally delivered the first blow.

“One”

The sound of the slap arrived before the pain, settling deep under your skin.

He alternated between your left and right cheek, hard and soft blows as he counted for you. Your ass rippled with each hit as tears pricked at your eyes.

“Fuck baby, look at you. My handprint all over your perfect ass” he groaned, pulling you up to him by your chest. Turning your head toward him he licked a stray tear from your cheek and then, “get on your knees and clean my seats up for me”.

You scrambled down into the footwell, bracing your hands against the seat. He simply watched, eyebrow quirked and nodded for you to continue.

Swallowing you poked your tongue out and traced it along the line of your juices on the leather seat. Your eyes fluttered shut as you worked to clean the wet patch, occasional moans slipping past your lips.

When you’d cleaned most of the slick from the seat, making the wet patch larger with your saliva, you looked up at him expectantly.

“Oh I know you didn’t think you were getting away that easily baby.”

Okay! I need to be stopped 😂

[petalouda85]

Battle

Fandom: Blades of Light and Shadow

Pairing: Tyril Starfury x f!human!MC (Kassandra)

Word count: 3.3k

Concept: A rewrite of the final battle of Blades 2

Tags: @liviusofpella, @megas-choices, @starlight-starfury, @dutifullynuttywitch, @thosehallowedhalls, @choicesficwriterscreations

AO3 link: x

A/N: Honestly, the only reason I didn’t post this one sooner is because I couldn’t think of a title, which I still think is a bit meh. Meh might actually be my general attitude towards this fic. Not bad but still a bit meh. Regardless, enjoy some good angst again.

When Kassandra awoke, all she felt was pain, the slightest twist of her body shooting fire through every nerve and every muscle. The high-pitched ringing in her ears gradually lessened, allowing her to hear the noises of the ongoing battle around her, determination reinvigorating in her. A groan escaped her as she tried to sit up, catching only a glimpse of the source of her pain before it forced her to lie down again.

A massive wound covered her stomach, the blood dripping easily from it. Gritting her teeth, she pressed her hand down on the wound and in a swift movement, rolled onto her stomach. She breathed heavily to quell the pain, but it was quickly replaced by a gasp as she finally saw the carnage around her.

Her friends were strewn around her, bleeding, all still and unmoving, the victims of the Empress’ wrath. With Valax on their side, they had landed blow after blow, making the Empress bleed and her skin crack. When they hit one strike too many, the Empress had burst out her powers in a rage, sending Kassandra and the others flying, the magic shredding at their skin.

Kassandra looked at all the bodies. Everyone was present, Tyril nearest to her.

“Tyril?” She called out to him, her voice barely audible over the wind. The elf didn’t move and worry bit at her heart. “Tyril?” She cried, her worry morphing into fear when he still didn’t move. She reached for him but all she grabbed was dirt and grass. “Tyril!” Tears rolled out of her eyes.

With a pained shout, she forced herself to crawl, finally close enough to grab onto his hand, relief washing over her when she heard him groan in response and ever so slightly tighten his grip on her hand. She wanted to weep loudly when he opened his eyes a crack, blue meeting brown; how she wished she could bask in that moment for an eternity, but she was running out of time. She looked over her shoulder at the Empress, hurling her magic and slaughtering those that dared get too close. Kassandra squeezed her eyes shut, tears escaping despite her best efforts.

She knew what she had to do.

“Kassandra?” He whispered as she pressed a long, hard kiss on his knuckles.

“I love you. So much.” Reluctantly, she pulled away and used all her strength to stand, gritting her teeth as her wound seared with pain. Every step she took, a new stab of agony rushed through her, but she pressed on, eyes trained on her target with fiery determination.

“Hey! Ashy!” Kassandra shouted. The Empress turned around and smirked cockily at the approaching human.

“Ah, the great hero rises.” She mocked. Kassandra took another step and stumbled to the ground, the Empress’ laughter carried by the wind. With a growl, she forced herself to her feet, the blood dripping over her hand.

“You will never conquer the Light Realm. I will protect it with my life.” Kassandra said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, I’m sure you will.” The Empress laughed. She conjured up a ball of Shadow and threw it towards Kassandra. She dodged at the last moment, feeling the tendrils of Shadow brush across her cheek before she fell to the ground once more, letting out a cry of pain.

“Damn it.” She muttered under her breath as she sat up on her hands and knees, looking at her hand, it now entirely red, the Empress’ mocking laughter ringing in her ears. “Damn it.” She gritted her teeth as she continued to stare at her wound.

She could never face the Empress in this state. She could try the healing spell Nia taught her, but she realized quickly that that likely wouldn’t work; she barely had the strength to stand, and Nia had told her the difficulties of using such a spell on oneself. Another idea struck her. With a deep breath, she called on the Light and produced a flame in her hand. Not giving herself the opportunity to talk herself out of it, she pressed the flame to her injury. It took all her willpower to not scream, the pain worse than the injury had been but when she pulled her hand back, she smiled.

It had worked. She wasn’t bleeding anymore.

She rose to her feet, her stomach sore and throbbing, and faced down the Empress, who, for the briefest of moments, seemed impressed before her face twisted back into that familiar cruel and cocky smile.

“Your determination is amusing.” She quipped. Kassandra stopped some distance from the Empress, meeting her gaze.

“It’s time for you to go, your Highness. You don’t belong here. You never have. All you bring to this world is death and destruction. It’s time to give it back to people who actually make something of it.” Kassandra unhooked her whip from her belt, the end falling unceremoniously to the ground. The Empress looked at the weapon and laughed heartily.

“And who’s going to make me go? You? With your bit of string in your hand?” Kassandra’s stomach sank for a moment before she steeled herself.

“Probably not. But let’s just give this one last go.” With a flick of her wrist, the whip burst into flame. “Shall we?”

Kassandra threw the whip, angry when the Empress managed to dodge the hit. Determined, she aimed and threw again, sending the Shadow creature in the other direction. She dodged another Shadow Orb that was thrown her way, after which she lashed the whip a third time, causing the Empress to stumble to avoid the hit. As she regained her footing, Kassandra threw the whip once more, the flaming end slashing the Empress on her cheek, a black crack forming. The Empress hollered and grasped at her cheek, flaming hateful eyes trained on the human that caused it.

“You little weed!” She seethed. Kassandra stared back with equal fire, hand ready to cut again. The metallic taste of blood flooded her tongue and she spat it out, her gaze never leaving her opponent.

“Yes, I am just a little dandelion. No matter how many times you pull at my roots, no matter how many times you try to destroy me, I will always find a crack in your foundation and grow!” Shouting the last word, she threw her weapon, hurling the whip as hard as she could. The end missed but as it snapped, the flames burst out in an explosion, the shockwave causing the Empress to stumble. Kassandra screamed and aimed again, the whip exploding once more. She threw it over and over, the flames growing more ferocious with each crack, a trail of fire left behind with every movement until she was surrounded by rings of the orange light, her movement elegant and graceful despite the exhaustion and the heat and the ever-present pain. A twirling dance of metal and fire.

“ENOUGH!” The Empress hollered and a shockwave of Shadow pushed out of her, too fast to dodge. Kassandra went flying, skidding, and tumbling across the ground, groaning when her head contacted something hard. Her head churned and twisted, her vision blurred and distorted. She blinked rapidly, seeing a dark figure coming to stand over her, a Shadow scythe in her hand. The Empress lifted the weapon with a gleeful smile.

“I’m going to kill you, Realm-Walker. I’m going to gut you and use your guts to strangle your little elf. I am the Ash Empress, the Mother of Grey. I am Death. You’re just a human being.”

The scythe swung down, a killing blow to her chest. Kassandra rolled out of the way, feeling the rush of air as the weapon plunged into the earth next to her. The Empress yanked the weapon out as Kassandra jumped to her feet, grabbing onto the Empress’ wrists. The Empress pushed back but Kassandra refused to budge, her arms trembling under the sheer strength of her opponent. With a shout, she pushed back, jumping out of the way to dodge another swing of the scythe.

An Orb of Light appeared in her hand, and she threw it at her adversary, it exploding in a ferocious blinding light. As the Empress howled in pain, Kassandra abandoned the whip and pulled forth a dagger, concentrating on the blade, it beginning to glow with potent Light. As the light from the orb faded, the Empress turned to face her, but it was too late as Kassandra plunged the Light-infused weapon into the center of her chest. The Empress looked down at the weapon in shock before turning her hateful gaze back to the human in front of her.

“This is for my family.” Kassandra twisted the knife, the Empress grunting as cracks of Light began to form on her skin. “This is for me.” Another twist. “And this is for Tyril. You will never touch him again!” And she plunged the knife deeper, more cracks of Light forming on the gray skin, permeating all through her body and turning the skin hard and brittle, little chunks of ash blowing away with the wind until there was nothing left of the Empress, the knife falling to the grass as Kassandra fell to her knees, exhausted and dizzy, her head pounding. Moments later, she felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Valax, heavily injured but alive. She looked sadly at the small remaining pile of ash before them.

“My mother…”

“She’s gone.” Kassandra answered as she rose to her feet, stumbling as she did. Valax’s sad expression continued for a moment longer before her face became serious once more.

“We still have a problem on our hands.” She said sternly, looking out towards the portal. Kassandra nodded and straightened herself, gritting her teeth to lessen the pain.

“Let’s do this.” And the two ran in the direction of the portal, dodging Ashen soldiers and monsters along the way. Soon, they were at the portal, the buzzing causing the pain in her head to increase. She ignored it as best she could as she raised her hand, ready to shut the portal when her hand faltered.

“If we seal it, it’ll be the death of magic. The elves, the goblins, they’ll die.” Lowering her hand, Kassandra looked out over the field once more, watching the elves fight against the invaders, throwing Orbs of Light and magical flames. She glanced over in the direction of the final resting place of the Empress, thinking of Nia and Tyril, how their lives were intertwined with magic.

“And if we keep it open, Shadow will corrupt, and Light will drain people’s life force.” Valax responded. “The world would stay as it is. Unbalanced and unfair.”

Neither option was appealing. Kassandra pondered and pondered when a thought struck her.

“What if we broke the barrier?”

“What?”

“The Realms were one once. Maybe they should be one once more. Bring it all back the way it was.” Valax looked hesitant.

“Worlds would collide if we broke the barrier. Buildings, trees, rivers, it’ll all collide, and we don’t where anything will land. People will die.” Valax reasoned. Kassandra looked over the battlefield, black spots clouding her eyes.

“More than they are now?” Valax followed her gaze and fell silent.

“I trust you, Kassandra. And I trust you to make the right choice.” Kassandra looked to the portal and then back to the open field, watching the bloodshed unfold further. Light against Shadow, a division started many millennia ago. How many had suffered and died due to the greed of a handful of people?

A choice was made.

“The Ascendants split the world to keep their power and they died anyway. So many suffered for it. It’s time to bring it back to the way it was.” Kassandra lifted her hand to the portal, channeling her realm-walker abilities and willing the portal to grow larger, sensing the cracks in the barrier growing every second. She sensed a surge of magic as Valax joined her, tearing more and more at the barrier.

Kassandra’s hand began to falter as she pushed her powers further than she ever had before. Her head spun, her insides felt as though they were being torn apart. But she pushed more and more, screaming as she pressed on, feeling the barrier break more by the second, the pressure building.

Suddenly, the pressure snapped, and the barrier collapsed in a blinding light. The ground shook but somehow, she remained standing until the earth stopped moving.

Her arms fell and she collapsed onto her knees, breathing heavily as she looked around her, seeing a new, chaotic, and strange world. Shadow trees twisted and rooted in the once open fields, Imtura’s ships now on land due to changed shorelines and the mountains placed differently. She felt a surge of magic in her and she quickly recognized it as being true magic. She smiled weakly, but quickly succumbed to a coughing fit, blood pooling out of her mouth. Her coughing soon stopped but the blood continued to drip out of her mouth. She felt dizzier than before, it worsening by the second, her vision fading, her insides numb.

“Kassandra!” Someone screamed as the world faded to black.

---

It was warm.

Kassandra tried to move but her arms and hands were too heavy, something heavy lying on top of her making it difficult to move anything else. She managed to shuffle ever so slightly to make herself more comfortable on the surprisingly soft surface she was lying on.

“If this is death, it’s not too bad.” She thought, as she slowly opened her heavy lids. Her vision was blurry and unfocused, dizziness immediately swimming in her head. She closed her eyes for a moment before trying again. This time it was easier to bear though her vision was still fuzzy. She could make out colors: soft cream and bronze. She blinked a few times, her vision getting clearer every time, and she frowned when she recognized the ceiling. It was the ceiling of the room she’d had in Whitetower.

She turned her head and let out a light gasp when she spotted Nia in a chair next to her bed, head slumped down in rest.

She was not dead.

“Nia?” Kassandra said, her voice weak and cracked. Nia didn’t move. “Nia?” She tried louder. The priestess shook out of her sleep and lifted her head, her eyes widening immediately.

“Kassandra!” Nia whispered, jumping out of the chair, and coming to sit on the edge of the bed. “Thank the Gods, you’re finally awake!”

She couldn’t help but smile and tried to sit up, only for her stomach to blaze with pain. Kassandra hissed as she lay back down. There was a hum of magic and the pain immediately lessened.

“Don’t push yourself.” Nia said, moving her hand over Kassandra’ abdomen. “You still aren’t fully healed, and your stomach will no doubt be tender for some time, even with magic.” Nia frowned, a motherly expression of disappointment and concern on her face. “That was quite reckless, burning your stomach like that; yes, it stopped the bleeding externally but internally... “ The priestess trailed off for a moment. “I understand why you did it but…” The priestess trailed off again and Kassandra felt a pit of regret in her stomach.

“How long was I asleep?” Kassandra asked after a time, her voice coming out scratchy and hoarse.

“You were unconscious for about two weeks. We were scared you weren’t going to make it. How do you feel?” Kassandra moved her head and pain immediately shot through her skull, more aches passing through her body just as fast.

“Like I’ve been hit by a thousand bricks and my limbs are lead.” Nia let out a light chuckle.

“You did push yourself a lot at the end. Do you need anything?”

“Some water would be nice.” Nia nodded and grabbed the pitcher that stood on the side table and filled a glass. She gently placed her hand under Kassandra’s head and lifted her up, helping her slowly drink from the cup. Once it was empty, she helped her lay down again.

“Better?”

“Much. Thank you. Are the others here?” Nia nodded and looked over her shoulder. Kassandra tried to follow her gaze but was unable to lift her head much.

“They’re here. They’re asleep. I’ll wake them; they’ll be so relieved to see you awake.” Before Kassandra could protest, Nia stood from the bed and moved out of sight. “Imtura! Wake up!” She heard her whisper loudly. She heard movement behind the foot of the bed, a thud and then, a man groaning.

“No, she’s my pillow!” Mal whined.

“Kassandra’s awake.” She heard shuffling and the orc and scoundrel appeared in her sight, both looking disheveled, while Nia moved into another corner of the room, Kade soon appearing in her vision as well. As Nia disappeared from sight and the door opened and closed, her brother leapt for the bed, gathering her in an embrace as Mal and Imtura approached. The embrace shot pain up her whole body.

“Kade, you’re hurting me.” Kassandra said and immediately, Kade let go and helped her down onto the bed.

“Sorry. I’m just so happy to see you awake.” He said, tears of joy in his eyes. Kassandra smirked.

“Can’t get rid of me that easy.” She looked at the other two figures standing by her bed. “Hi guys.” Mal moved closer and sat down on the bed. He was silent for a time, seemingly trying to find the right words amid a whirlwind of emotion.

“Good to have you back, kit.” He said, struggling to keep his tone even. Slowly and with effort, Kassandra reached out and took his hand, trying to exude as much comfort into her touch as she could. Mal finally looked at her and she offered him a gentle smile.

“It’s good to be back.” The door slammed open, causing all heads to turn. Panting in the door stood Tyril, Nia appearing only moments later. The elf immediately looked to the bed and Kassandra heard his breath catch when their eyes met. Silence permeated the space.

“Let’s… give them some privacy.” Kade said gently. Surprisingly, the others offered little protest. They shuffled out of her sight and soon, the door clicked shut, leaving the room in silence again. For a time, neither of them moved, Tyril now not looking at her. Slowly, he moved closer and sat down on the bed, taking hold of her hand, and bringing it up to place a few gentle kisses on the knuckles. He took in a shaking breath and Kassandra noticed a red, wet tinge to his eyes.

“Tyril, please don’t cry.” She said softly. He let out a wet chuckle, shaking his head slightly as a tear ran down his cheek.

“I’m not crying.” He finally looked at her, his expression walking a line between worry and relief as another tear rolled out of his eye. With what little strength she had, she moved her hand out of his grasp and cupped his cheek. Quickly, her hand faltered but the elf reached up and kept it in place.

“I’m going to be okay.” Tyril nodded, more tears rolling from his eyes. He took her hand from his cheek and held on to it before he leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her lips. She returned the gesture as best she could, a tear rolling out of her eye now too. When he pulled away, he remained close, resting his forehead against hers, the grip on her hand tightening.

“Please don’t ever scare me like that again.” He whispered. In a burst of strength, she embraced the elf, ignoring the lingering aches in her body. He quickly embraced her back.

“Considering we have a tendency to end up in dangerous situations, I don’t think that that’s something I can promise.” She felt and heard him chuckle a little. “But I’ll try my best.”

[adiduck]

27, 59, or 82 for the kisses? 😘

And finishing the final two here (first one responded to yesterday). As usual, a continuation of the 'verse started in this reblog! Send me kisses for SaintSpy May, y'all!

-

27. Bloody kiss; 59. Post-fight kiss

“At some point, I am going to teach you to run,” Michael snaps over comms.

“I’m running! I’m running right now,” Ethan snaps back, and reaches out to grab a light pole, using it to pivot his momentum around a corner as another hail of gunfire chases him.

He fires over his shoulder twice to discourage close pursuit, dashing down an alley and towards a gate. There’s blood in his mouth—not relevant right now. Another shot, and the lock blasts off. Ethan shoulders through it and keeps going, kicking it closed behind him. There’s a house—great. Another shot and he’s through the front door, running straight through to the kitchen he can see through an arch in the back.

“Don’t give me that. You engaged them,” Michael says.

“Better me than a civilian!” Nobody here, thank god. He ducks around the arch as more gunfire starts up behind him, turning left to blow through the glass of a window over the counter instead of making for the backdoor. He vaults himself up and through, finds himself back in the enclosed courtyard, makes for the gate again—this time to climb over it.

“Yeah,” Michael says, furious. “That. That’s what I mean. They won’t shoot you if they don’t see you. Learn to fucking run—there you are!”

Tires screeching as a pick-up truck comes to a stop in front of Ethan, and then Michael’s shoved the door open and is aiming—behind Ethan, firing a rifle as Ethan throws himself at the gate and starts to climb. He vaults himself over the top and lands on the ground still running, low under Michael’s fire until he gets to the door and Michael shoves himself back into the driver’s seat. He dives in as Michael peels away and slams the door shut, fire following them down the little alley and out into the main street.

“Keep your head down and let me get us out of here,” Michael says, and Ethan does as he’s told, releasing the clip on his gun and reloading as he pants. “There’s blood on your lips.”

“Elbow to the face,” Ethan explains. “I’m fine.”

“For fuck’s sake, Ethan,” Michael snaps, and then devolves into swearing in Turkish as he takes a sharp turn and guns the engine towards the freeway, just as more fire starts out to their left.

Ethan picks up the rifle and starts to roll down the window—

“Stay down!”

Ethan rolls the window back up.

“I didn’t even carry a gun on jobs until you started coming,” Micheal continues to rant, pulling onto the freeway and sliding into the far lane, weaving in and out of traffic. “Because when someone pulled a gun, I left.”

“We were in a crowd—” Ethan tries.

“You’re a trained espionage agent,” Michael interrupts. “Lose them!”

“There were civilians—”

“You,” Micheal interrupts again, hauling them out at the nearest exit and taking a winding path out into the middle of the Spanish countryside, “are currently a civilian. We are committing a crime, Ethan. None of these people have a reason to pull punches—”

“Which is why I drew the fire,” Ethan says stubbornly.

“If they can’t find you, they will stop firing,” Michael says, and his voice hasn’t raised above a very forceful indoor voice, but Ethan still feels like he’s being yelled at. “This is a mess, Ethan. Now we have to fucking shake them, and they know what truck I’m driving, and you’re injured, because you couldn’t just let them walk away—” He pulls over very abruptly and stops the truck. “Out.”

Ethan blinks.

“New car, out out out,” Michael says impatiently, and Ethan realizes they’ve pulled up alongside an old junker on the side of the road.

“Is that thing even going to start?” Ethan asks incredulously.

“I planted it, yes,” Michael says, and reaches down to grab a suitcase, letting himself out the door. “Hurry up!”

Ethan hurries up, grabbing the rifle and his empty clip on the way out—no point making this easy for anyone. The door to the new car is unlocked, and Michael drops the suitcase into Ethan’s lap as he gets in, starts the car without a key and takes off down the road in the opposite direction to the one they were driving in.

“Head down,” he grits out. “They don’t know what I look like.”

“I’m sorry,” Ethan says.

“Good,” Michael responds, and for about half an hour they drive in absolute silence.

Finally, Michael pulls them back onto the freeway, and then off again about four exits later. “New car again,” he says shortly, and they pile out and pile back into another pickup truck, Ethan taking a minute to fuss with the suitcase to make sure it’s secure—

Michael closes the door on the driver’s side, reaches over, and hauls Ethan into a kiss.

Ethan blinks, and then kisses back, ignoring the way his mouth starts bleeding again at the pressure.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Michael says, against his mouth.

“I’m sorry I fucked up your job,” Ethan responds. He is, honestly. At the time, he’d played the odds through his head, and it had seemed like the safest course of action to just try to control the scenario, but—

“You didn’t,” Michael says, and nudges the suitcase with his foot. He gives a wry smile. “You fucked up the getaway.”

“I’m sorry I fucked up the getaway,” Ethan corrects himself obediently.

Michael kisses him again, which feels a little bit like a reward. “Next time you run, or you don’t get to come again,” he warns as he pulls back, turning over the engine and starting back in yet a third direction.

“That’s fair,” Ethan agrees. Michael now has a little blood on his own mouth. Ethan wonders vaguely if it’s strange that he finds that attractive. “And hey, you got a new kiss type out of it?”

“I’m not sure I want to count ‘kiss involving blood’,” Michael says wryly,

“I meant,” Ethan says, “post-fight kiss?”

Michael side-eyes him.

“Maybe?” Ethan tries again, attempting to smile disarmingly.

“Hm,” Michael says.

“I really am sorry.”

Michael turns back to the road. “I’ll count it for now. If you’re very, very good the rest of the time.”

Relief. Ethan collapses back into the seat, smiling. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“You better.”

“I will,” Ethan insists. “Did you know you look really hot with blood on your teeth?”

Michael pauses at a crossroads to drop his head onto the steering wheel, something of an incredulous laugh startled out of him. “Why do I like you?” he asks, but he’s smiling.

Ethan grins wider. “If you find a good place to pull over,” I’ll show you.

“Hm,” Michael says again, and turns right. Ethan’s pretty sure he’s won. “We’ll see.”

-

[suntdracull-archived]

~THE SERPENTS END~

“ATTACK!!”

Crashing in through the aging windows of the castle. Isaac, Hector and Lenore engaged the enemy as Silas instructed. Hector charging at Stjephans men summoning his forge hammer in flash of red light, unsheathing his dagger expertly dodging their advancing, smashing his hammer against their skulls and slicing open their throats leaving them to die choking on their blood. A guard would come bolting towards Hector to which responded quickly, throwing his hammer straight at the guards face, the sharp back end piercing his brow blood spewing from the wound. Another would come at his right, and Hector would draw his double barrel flintlock and fire sending the goon flying backwards, his chest cavity blown open from the impact of the balls.

Isaac would join in, a scarlet light forming above his head as his hand gestured a magical summoning. A great silver pole axe formed, taking a hand upon the handle he would dance with the pole, twirling and spinning his blade with brutality and skill, the silver blade ripping through any that was in his path, the pointed tip impaling through chests and tearing holes in hearts.

A group of guards would surround Lenore, their weapons trained upon the helpless looking diplomat.

“Oh dear, it would appear that I am surrounded, whatever is a poor defenseless girl like me to do?”

As the guards charged, swords and spears at the ready. Lenore’s hand would quickly undo the ribbon tying her fur lined coat, and with a thunderous crack, three of the of the lackeys heads would be cleaved clean off their shoulders and sent flying into the air in a fountain of crimson. Lenore’s ribbon now engulfed in a blazing blue flame as it began to change form into a grand whip, made of a golden alloy with embroidery all along the length, razor sharp barbs running down along its edge. Lenore would turn the whip ‘round above her head, spinning it quickly as its length spun ‘round her then turning it upon the guards as quick as lightning.

CRACK! One guard fell to his knees as his legs were cut to the bone.

CRACK! CRACK!

A neck split open and a chest cavity tore down the middle.

Every crack of the whip she would spin and twirl her body, as if she were dancing to the sound of their dying screams. One would get too close, and with a flick of her wrist she would wrap the whole length of the whip around his neck, turn his head to the side with such speed and ferocity that it snapped his spine to splinters.

“This is like Prague all over again!” Hector shouted, retrieving his hammer all while dodging a guards sword by flipping backwards and donkey kicking the guard backwards, sending him flying towards Lenore who wrapped her whip ‘round his chest and with a jerk back, ripped the guard in half, blood and entrails scattering about the floor.

“Oh come now Hector!” Lenore would respond! “This is nowhere near as bad as Prague!”

“Save the idle conversation for later!” Isaac would shouted finishing the last of the guards “We must open the gates!”

“Right!” Hector nodded.

The three would burst through the nearest doorway running down the old abandoned corridors of Radu’s old estate, past dusty windows and wide halls of graying stone. They would soon reach the broken battlements outside upon the higher levels, and there a line of guards would be waiting for them, weapons drawn and charging forth shouting as they closed the distance between them.

“I shall make short work of this!” Lenore said proudly. Dainty clawed finger rising to red lips like the rose, kissing the tips and blowing it at the charging men. A tiny blue spark would flicker from her fingertips and hover toward them, floating its way gracefully like a leaf falling from a tree until it graced the breast of one of them.

FWOOOSH!!!

Suddenly, the whole group of guards were completely engulfed in a bright blazing blue flame. Their armor and skin burning from their bodies to the very bone, reducing them all to ashes. Lenore and Isaac would head on, but Hector would stay for a moment, mouth slightly agape at Lenore’s grand display of power. Shaking off his stupor, he followed them close behind, heading their way ‘round the castle until they reached the front at last, the castle gates below out looking the mountains and the Romanian Sea that encircled the country side.

Yet, before the three could even approach any further, the stone of the battlement path beneath them began to quake. There, emerging from the tower keep twenty feet from them, emerged a hideous, massive beast. It’s form bulbous and grotesque, dark charcoal skin splayed against the moonlight, a massive mace in its hand as its one singular eye fixed upon the three of them. It walked forward on its trunk like legs towering of the three, it’s large crooked nose sniffing them.

“A cyclops??” Isaac said befuddled “Where did Stjephan find one of those?”

“No doubt provided by the ever so generous Mr. Hyde!” Hector would reply irritably, readying his dagger and hammer, Isaac pointing his pole axe ready to charge the beast and Lenore hissing, the whip rose high above her head ready to strike at the monster.

The cyclops roared, charging forward with it's mace held high above his head prepared to swing his mace down upon the three. If there was one advantage they had over the monster, it was speed, for as the mace fell upon them they managed to roll under the beast betwixt it's legs.

WHAM!!! The force of the mace hitting the settlement stone rose the pathway, slabs of rock rising from the impact as it turned round to throw the mace at the three, the massive barbed club twisting as it speedily spun towards them. Issac jumped over, narrowingly missing it while Hector tackled Lenore to the ground.

The mace would hit the tower keep behind them with a resounding thud! Isaac landed on his feet, twisting his pole axe that began to glow a deep fiery red as he shouted an enchantment then swinging the blade at the cyclops, from it was cast a flaming horned skull, it's teeth open wide as it barreled it’s way toward the cyclops who charged forward. It would not take long for the flaming demon head to strike the beast in the chest, exploding in a great ball of golden flame right through the cyclops leaving a wide gapping charred hole through it's breast. The beast desperately clung to life, blood spewing from it's mouth of gnarled teeth. Isaac would charge forward, jumping high into the air, the blade of his poleaxe growing red hot as he brought down upon the beasts head, the blade cutting the cyclops clean down the middle as easily as a hot knife through butter.

The beast would split, one half careening off the battlement wall to the left while the other half fell into the courtyard to the right. Hector adjusted himself, rising above Lenore who was looking up at Hector, his hands over her head, practically straddling the diplomat. A mischevious grin curled upon Lenore’s rosy red lips once Hector, realizing his situation, flushed, his cheeks burning hot. Hector would rise with a start, clearing his throat and dusted himself off.

“Are you okay, Lenore?” Hector asked.

“I am, are you?” Lenore would reply, her grin still remaining.

Hector would stammer, trying to find the words to say before falling silent. Lenore strutted her way to the midst of the battlement wall, her smile widening as clawed hands gripped tight the wheel to the castle gates and turning it with all her might, her enhanced strength proving sufficient to twist the levers and draw down the gates, the loud clinking of metal as the chains lowered the draw bridge. Isaac reached into his sash, pulling out a small blunder buss aiming it toward the sky and firing, a red flare bursting into the night sky with a loud echoing pop! The signal had been released, and all hell would be unleashed upon Brayla that night.

@xxlordalexanderxx, @thegreeksknewthescore, @bleedinghearth, @the-blackened-dove, @sanguine-salvation

[izzy-b-hands]

Lil Boss/Gat set sometime in sr2, with one of my bosses (Ellis, trans and queer and so dumb but he tries so hard. Shame it rarely works out for him.)

---

“And I’m just sayin’ sometimes my life flashes before my eyes when you take a right on red,” Johnny scoffs. “Don’t be a little bitch about it.”

Ellis narrows his eyes. “I am not being a little bitch about it.”

“Road.”

“I’m not!”

“Boss, look at the fuckin’ road!”

Johnny’s hand yanks the steering wheel over, and they veer back into their lane.

“I don’t drive that badly,” Ellis insists. “But I sure do when you grab the motherfucking wheel!”

“Your ass was turned entirely to the side to talk to me!”

"I'm working on my eye contact and shit, you know that!"

"Not while driving you fucking aren't!"

Ellis fumes and glares down the road. "Fine then."

"What?"

They screech into the nearest Freckle Bitch's parking lot, and Ellis stomps out of the car.

"You drive."

"Nah, come the fuck on-"

"I'm not driving us to the crib now; you do it or we walk."

Johnny growls and awkwardly lifts himself over the small center console in the Eiswolf. "You couldn't have driven a better car to have this tantrum in?"

"First off, this is Julius' Eiswolf so you'd best believe I will drive this thing into the ground just to spite his dead ass," Ellis scoffs. "And second off, you could have gotten out and walked around."

"Well, look who's full of fucking solutions today."

"Could keep me full of something else and keep me quiet in one go."

Johnny settles into the driver's seat and shakes his head. "You can't offer to blow me whenever we argue."

"Honestly, it's not a solution to the arguing anymore, I've just...pavloved myself a bit."

"What, you get horny whenever we so much as sorta argue?"

He slams the car door shut and rests his arm on the rolled down window. "I think I might need to see your theory of this in action."

"You sound like my old Econ professor from Stilwater U."

"And you said he was one of the best fucks of your life."

"Up until he failed me, yeah," Ellis says as he finally comes around to the flop down in the passenger seat. "But that wasn't the sex; I just hated the subject."

"I saw your notes," Johnny chuckles and puts the car in gear. "I remember, trust me. Half the damn time you just doodled Saints logo ideas."

"And as a result our current tag and logo are amazing," Ellis smirks. "You're welcome."

"You're an idiot."

"Says the man taking us back towards Aisha's place instead of towards the crib."

"We could go hang out in the sex dungeon tunnel instead," Johnny offers. "Pierce has probably got things under control."

"That's so sweet to say, and almost definitely wrong."

It's a short drive to Mourning Woods Cemetery, and an even shorter walk down into the tunnel.

"Always so many dead guys," Ellis sighs and sneaks around the edge of a coffin sticking out of the dirt wall.

"Motherfucker, that's like going outside and complaining about bugs. They were there first!"

Ellis giggles and sighs and drops down onto a semi-clean mattress. "Fair enough. Get over here and critique my driving some more."

"Now that's a hell of a pick up line," Johnny flops down beside him. "On that note, can I ask why you think driving on the train tracks will get us anywhere faster?"

"It's above the traffic, and there's way less trains on them than there are cars on the road," Ellis shrugs. "Yeah, you gotta be prepared to give the trains right of way, and sometimes that means driving off the overhead tracks onto the cars below. We're all just trying to get where we're going."

Johnny pulls him close and kisses his forehead. "They should really revoke your license."

"I never actually got it to begin with. I just told Pierce I did so he'd let me drive him around as needed."

"I love you so fuckin' much."

[looneylukey]

teach me | luke skywalker

pairing: luke skywalker x f!reader

word count: 1.2k

"Hurry! We must get y/n to Yoda before it is too late!" Your father cried to your mother as screams of terror began.

Your mother nodded and scooped you up from your crib, running as fast as she could towards a small house hidden by water plants. She burst inside without knocking, head whipping around in search of Yoda. You wailed, scared of what was going to happen. Your mother smiled down at you, stroking your cheek lovingly.

"Over here, I am." Yoda's voice called.

She quickly ran to him, placing you in his small arms before kissing you on your forehead.

"Take good care of her, Yoda. Train her to become a Jedi." your mother whispered to him, her voice cracking and tears streaming down her face.

"Do as you ask, I will." Yoda smiled at her, before walking over to his cupboard and pulling out a small blanket to wrap you in.

"Goodbye Yoda. And goodbye little y/n. I know you will make us proud. Stay safe." Your mother kissed your forehead before wrapping her arms around you for the last time.

Then she ran out of the house, closing the door behind her. Nearby, a Sith swung his lightsaber towards your father's collapsed body. She jumped in front of your father, protecting him from the blow of the Sith's lightsaber. And just like that, in a few, short seconds, your mother was dead.

Your father screamed. He whipped out his lightsaber, preparing to fight, but the Sith was too quick for him. In the blink of an eye, the Sith had cut off your father's hand.

He screamed again, clutching his injured arm with his free arm and sinking onto the floor. The Sith laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound; it was pure evil. Once the Sith had stopped laughing, he drove the final blow of his lightsaber straight into your father's chest, who died on impact.

While all this was happening, you were safely curled up in a blanket next to the fireplace. Little did you know, in another part of the galaxy on the planet of Polis Massa, Luke Skywalker let out his first cry.

- eighteen years later -

"y/n, very good. Indeed, very good." Yoda smiled as you stood on your hands and lifted the rocks into the air. He was sitting on your foot, and you felt at peace, calm.

'How a Jedi should feel,' you thought, smiling.

Suddenly, a large rustling noise came from the swamp nearest you. You lost your concentration and fell, bringing Yoda down with you.

"I'm so sorry, Master Yoda! Are you all right?" You asked with concern in your voice, visually checking his body for injuries.

"Fine I am, young Padawan." Yoda chuckled at your concern.

There was a loud splash, followed by a yell. "R2!"

You quickly ran to the swamp, searching for the source of the voice. There, you saw him. A mop of blonde hair with bright blue eyes filled with concern. "R2!"

"Excuse me, but are you all right? I was training with my master and I heard you, so I thought I'd come help." You approached the boy cautiously.

The boy jumped, obviously not noticing you before. "Oh! Um, yes, I'm all right. I'm just looking for my droid, that's all. Although I was looking for someone before that," he muttered the last part quietly, but you still heard him.

"Who were you looking for? I might be able to help." You smiled at him, before holding out your hand. "By the way, my name's y/n."

The boy nodded. "His name is Yoda. And my name's Luke." He shook your hand with a firm, but gentle, grip. "I like your braid," he pointed at your Padawan braid.

"Yoda, did you say? He's my master! And my braid is to show that I'm still a Padawan. Apprentice," you added hastily, noticing his confusion. "I'll take you to Master Yoda now." You started to lead him out of the swamp, when he paused. "What's wrong? He doesn't bite, ya know."

Luke looked at you. "It's not that. My droid is stuck in the lake and I can't find him."

Suddenly, you saw a blue, white and red thing sticking out of the water. "What's that?"

Luke turned to see what you were looking at. "R2! You be more careful." He scolded, making you laugh.

He looked at you. "What's so funny?"

You struggled to stop laughing, but finally did. "I've never seen someone scold a droid before."

Luke smiled. "Well, I guess it is quite funny."

You then looked down into the water where R2 was struggling to stay afloat. "Are we just gonna stand here and talk, or help him out?"

R2 beeped and whistled at you, giving you a 'look' that told you to help him out.

Luke then followed your gaze. "I guess you have a point."

You and Luke then proceeded to help R2 out of the dirty water.

Once that was done, you clapped your hands together. "So, let's go see Master Yoda!"

- time skip -

Once you had reached Yoda, he told you that he couldn't train Luke. "Too old, he is," Yoda explained. "Teach you, y/n can."

So a few weeks later, you found yourself teaching Luke about the ways of the Force and why it was important to stay calm in the trickiest of situations. He had learned a lot, and all your hard work in teaching him was paying off.

After teaching Luke for about a month, Yoda said that you were now a Jedi Knight.

"Thank you." Tears of joy ran down your face.

"Good job, y/n!" Luke exclaimed once you had told him, wrapping his arms around your waist in a hug.

Immediately you froze, unused to human contact.

Sensing your hesitation, Luke started to pull back, but you wrapped your arms around his neck, returning the hug.

"Luke, there's something I need to tell you," you told him, pulling out of the hug.

Luke looked at you, worried. "Is there something wrong?"

"After I say this, I understand you to hate me or not be my friend anymore, but here goes." You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. "I know that a Jedi is not supposed to love, but I really l-like you Luke. As in, more than a friend." You closed your eyes, waiting for his response.

Luke was shocked by your confession. He had liked you for ages now, but could never find the courage to tell you. Now here you were, expressing your love for him and scared that he would reject you.

Instead of speaking, Luke pressed his lips to yours.

The kiss was short and sweet, but full of passion. After a moment's hesitation you relaxed, wrapping your arms around his neck and deepening the kiss. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

Gasping, you pulled for air. "Wow," was the only thing that came out of your mouth. "I'm guessing you like me back?" You asked cautiously, afraid.

Luke chuckled. "Nah, I just decided to kiss you for the sake of it." Observing your worried expression, he rolled his eyes. "I was joking. I really like you too, Jedi Knight."

You giggled at the nickname. "Master y/n's fine, young Padawan."

Luke rolled his eyes again.

[missluckycharms]

can you do a imagine where y/n plays volleyball and she gets hurt and h take care of her?

A/N: hiii! I hope you like this! I also had to look up some details about volleyball as it’s not really that commonly played here in Ireland, if I say something wrong pls ignore it I tried my best. The vaccine is kicking my ass rn, I got my second dose so if this sucks and there’s mistakes pls ignore that also 😭 Enjoy !!

This is college!Harry and Y/N I hope you don’t mind !!

Warnings: talks of smut, strong language and Harry being a sarcastic loveable asshole.

Today was not Y/N day.

First of all, she woke up late, giving her only twenty minutes to get ready and make her way to college, which is usually a thirty minute drive without traffic. She was like a lightening bolt running through her apartment, falling over Harry’s shoes that were just abandoned around her room and trying to find any clean clothes as Harry came over last night and as usual, he distracted her from doing what she needed to do, which was her laundry.

He was asleep while she did all this, her small huffs and puffs picking up his shoes and throwing them into the corner didn’t even cause the lazy log in the bed to move once, his body tucked up under the covers as his face smushed against her purple sheets as he let out small snores, she looked at him and silently wished that was her. She was lucky she packed her gym bag last night before he arrived over, all of her clothes, her ankle braces, her knee pads and her favourite trainers she wears for games all packed into her bag and all she needed to do was pick it up and throw it into the trunk of her car along with her book bag.

She kissed Harry’s forehead and again, he did not even move, he may of given out a slight hum for a grumbled word but Y/N didn’t have time to contemplate what he said, she was rushing out the door wearing clothes that were probably Harry’s as the joggers were nearly falling off her as she ran. She didn’t care though, she needed to be in her first lecture or her grades would go down. She made it to campus with only thirty seconds to spare, she doesn’t know how she wasn’t pulled over for driving faster than the speed limit when she saw the campus come into view. Her body ran through the halls, dodging anyone in her way as she dragged herself to the lecture hall where her professor was probably already starting lesson, his usual morning introduction as everyone set up their laptops or notepads for the hour lecture ahead.

She got a disapproving look from her professor when she slide into a row, flopping down onto the seat and apologising as she rummaged through her bag looking for her laptop. Her professor was already going over what they would be covering today when she realised she doesn’t have her laptop. Then she remembered where it is, it’s in her apartment in the bathroom.

Harry insisted they had a bath last night to relax her after she took some exams in college that day, the pair were soaked under the bubble filled hot water with her laptop propped up on the sink playing a show on Netflix as they relaxed and spoke about their day. She grabbed her notebook and pen and immediately began to scribble down the notes she would have to transfer onto her laptop tonight, if Harry doesn’t distract her again. She knows he might not, he has classes of his own today, his starting later than hers and his classes only being on four days a week instead of five like Y/N, yesterday was his day off, hence why he was being a needy little shit and clinging to Y/N like his lifeline until they fell asleep.

The day dragged out for Y/N, her usual one hour classes feeling like four hours, her notes taking for ages to write up as she tried to keep up with what was being displayed on the board, her lunchtime consisting of her bumming off her friend for a few dollars to get something to eat as she left her purse at home, her friend didn’t mind but she felt awful for asking. When the day finally ended she was relieved, all she wanted to do was get into the gymnasium and play some volleyball with her team to get all the anger she felt today, she was not having a good day and the only things that can help her with that is Harry or volleyball, and because she had training today over their at home game being played next week, she was relieved she could get some stress reliving in before going back to her place where she knows Harry will be — he hates his own apartment as he shares, Y/N only having a one bedroom one that she snagged and Harry being left with a flat thats shared between four people, there’s no privacy there, none.

“You’ve been tense all day, is everything okay?” Abbie, Y/N best friend asks as they begin their warm ups, the two sat on the floor side by side as the stretch their legs and arms getting warmed up for practice.

“Today wasn’t my day, woke up late, forgot my laptop and purse and now I have to go home and type up nearly fifty pages of notes onto my laptop — Who’s idea was it for me to study Biochemistry?” She laughs out, stretching her arms behind her head as Abbie follows suit, the pair watching as the coach shows them what to do, the pair sat at the back to avoid being yelled at for talking.

“I think that was your idea, I certainly didn’t force you to do that. If it helps, environmental studies isn’t easier, I swear I’m constantly writing up lab reports and giving presentations each week” Abbie rolls her eyes, the pair now doing lunges as they continue to chat.

“Shit! I have a presentation next week, I totally forgot” Y/N groans, squeezing her eyes in frustration as she hasn’t even started yet, her mind immediately going to how she has to type up the whole presentation while probably having Harry hang out of her. Harry is studying sports science, in hopes to one day set up his own personal training business. They usually have study sessions together as Harry has just as much work as Y/N, but Harry isn’t as much as a perfectionist as Y/N, he’ll slap together a presentation and call it a night while she has to make it look pretty and aesthetically pleasing.

After a fifteen minute warm up, the girls are already playing a mini match for practice, six players per team, Y/N being up nearest to the net with three other girls. She’s been named as one of the teams best scorers, her jumps are high and her force hitting the ball is something that scares opposing teams when they play competitions. She’s been on the college team for nearly two years now, her whole college course is five years long — she’s aiming for a bachelors degree in Biochemistry, she’s so happy she has something else to do while in here, she knows she would of went crazy if she didn’t have something to calm her down.

They play three games, Y/N’s team wining the first game and the teams tying on the last game due to the positions being switched and she was put to the back to give other players the chance to spike the ball up. She’s back up front on the third game, her body now rested from the small water break they were given in between the games, her body full of adrenaline and ready to play. The game is playing out as usual, Y/N jumping and spiking the ball up and over the net with the help of her team mates, the other team just as good as them as they all battle it out on the court. In the last two minutes is when it all goes downhill, Y/N jumps up to spike the ball, when she lands, she wobbles and falls over, her ankle rolling as she cries out in pain on the court, the coach blowing the whistle to stop the game as everyone rushes around her.

She tries to stand up, she falls back down again, Abbie and another girl holding her up as she shuts her eyes in pain. The coach takes off her ankle brace and sock with her permission, she’s now sitting on the bench as her ankle is iced and checked over by the coach, Abbie helping Y/N by refilling her water bottle when needed, her ankle now propped up on a chair with ice on it as the rest of the team begins their warm downs.

“It’s definitely sprained” Abbie says looking under the ice at her ankle, Y/N wincing when Abbie presses down lightly, jumping when she lets out a small cry.

“Yep, definitely sprained” she says putting the ice back on and sitting down next to her friend as they both laugh a little, the pain easing off with the ice as Abbie distracts her with stories and jokes.

“Y/N, do you have anyone to take you home?” The coach asks, allowing the rest to leave as Abbie stays seated with Y/N.

“I’ll call my boyfriend, thank you for your help” she says as the coach pats her on the back, telling her she can take all the time she needs off while also still being allowed to attend the games to support. She’s devastated about it, but at least she can support her team from the sidelines.

“What happened?” Harry asks running out of his car, the door slamming as Abbie wheels Y/N out in wheelchair given to them by the coach from the injury room.

“Fucked my ankle, doesn’t surprise me honestly, today wasn’t a good day” she sighs s Harry laughs a little, helping her out of the wheelchair and guiding her towards his car that’s parked only three steps away.

“You’re okay now, let’s get you home and rested, yeah?” He says laying her down on the back seat, picking her leg up and resting it on the seat as she winches in pain a little as she adjusts herself on the seat.

“Thanks for all your help, I’ll have Niall come and pick her car up later” Harry says to Abbie, closing the back door and smiling at the girl who’s waving in at her best friend who’s mortified in the back of the car, laughing masking the pain she’s feeling.

“If you both need anything give me a call” she says as Harry nods waving her off as he sits into the car, turning around to look at his girlfriend who’s looking back at him holding in her laugh.

“Only you” he shakes his head laughing as Y/N lets out a loud cackle, knowing he’s right, only her would end up fucking up her ankle even with a brace on it, it’s defiantly a Y/N thing to do.

The car ride home is filled with laughing and a few sing songs as Harry tries to distract her from the pain. He helps her into her apartment by carrying her bridal style up the flight of stairs and placing her down onto the sofa, propping her leg up on the coffee table, raising her ankle up on a pillow as he races to the freezer to find something to put on the injury.

“Okay, all you’ve got is frozen peas” he says placing the green packet down onto her ankle, the picture of peas hilarious as it rests on her skin, the swelling gone down since the gymnasium which is good, as Harry says.

“I’ll run to the store to get you some bandages soon, right now, you need some tea, the sugar will help with the shock you got” he says immediately snapping into Mum mode with her, Y/N smiling at Harry in the kitchen behind her, her head turning and resting on the back of the sofa as she watches him saunter around her kitchen.

“Do you have any homework you need completing? I got all mine done in library period we had today, I’m free to do yours if you have any” he says fiddling with the kettle and switching it on, placing a tea bag into her favourite purple polka dot mug.

“I have to transfer handwritten notes onto my laptop, I can do that” she says as Harry turns around, waiting for the kettle to boil as he looks at her.

“Nope, I’m doing that for you, you need rest! I’m here to help you, I’ll be your nurse” he says turning back around to pour the boiling water into the mug.

“I’m fine Harry, it’s just a small sprain” she fights back, Harry shaking his head as he walks in with her mug filled with warm tea, passing it to her as he sits next to her wrapping his arm around the back of the sofa.

“I’m not leaving you here alone, if you fall what will you do? Get up and walk?” He says sarcastically as she rolls her eyes laughing, resting her head back on his arm as they begin watching the TV before them.

“Also, I expect the same in return if I ever get hurt” he jokes as she slaps his arm playfully, laughing loudly as Harry wiggles his eyebrows at her.

“You’re on top for the next few weeks Styles” she says sipping on her tea as Harry laughs, reaching over to kiss her check.

“I’m always on top, darling” he whispers to her as she pulls back looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Babe, please can you be on top? I had a leg cramp this morning and it might come back” she says lowly, imitating Harry and his deep British accent as he looks at her rolling his eyes.

“I don’t sound like that” he says taking her mug from her and sipping a little from her tea as she takes it back off him with a loud groan at what he just did — he always does it to annoy her, or he’ll dip some biscuits into her tea when she’s not looking.

“Oh yeah, must be what my other boyfriend sounds like” she says riling him up, his head turning to her as she looks at the TV screen laughing behind the rim of her mug.

“You’re lucky you’re injured m’love, if you weren’t you would be over my shoulder and thrown down onto your bed and I’d show you who’s your boyfriend, or daddy as you like” he says wiggling his eyebrows as she groans into her tea.

“It was one time! I said it by accident!” She shouts, turning bright red as Harry laughs loudly, kissing her cheek as she pouts looking down at her mug.

“You know I liked it, it’s okay baby” he says resting her head on his shoulder as she cuddles into him, her empty mug on her lap as she pulls the blanket down from the back of the sofa, placing her empty mug on the floor and throwing the blanket over them both.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you” she says feeling sleepy, her day catching up on her as Harry helps her nurse her injury, his hands fixing the frozen peas on her ankle if they move a little.

“You’d probably break your neck or something” Harry says as she groans looking up at him, his dimples popping out as he laughs at his own joke.

“I’m being nice!” She says as he bends down to peck her lips, their smiles against one another lips as they pull away looking at one another.

“I know m’baby, I don’t know what you’d do without me either!” He says sighing in contentment as she rolls her eyes squishing her face into his chest.

“Harry!”

[apocalypticgargoyle]

YES YES YES REBEL PUNZ PLEASEEEE I NEED IT FOR SCIENCE PLEASEEEE

-🐉anon

Okay so *sigh* I know I keep saying this about all our boys but I love heem

𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐋. ☥ 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐥!𝐏𝐮𝐧𝐳

pairing: rebel!Punz x fm!reader

word count: ~ 3500

warnings: smut (18+), pure filth basically, language, blood, fighting, illegal activities, degradation, praise, domination, spanking, etc.

playlists: Rebel!Punz, EDGERS

The basement was only accessible through one door which was stationed at the back of Techno’s motorcycle shop. The door was bolted from the inside, only to be unlocked after the murmuring of a password known by word of mouth.

Behind the door was a flight of stairs going downward. The walls are reminiscent of walking through a damp tunnel, the air hanging thick, smelling of rotting soil and burning leaves. A man stationed on one of the landings would open the door at the end of the staircase and then move back upstairs as one would continue through the dark hallway, faintly hearing the sounds of men shouting. Finally, the last entryway and the gateway into a different universe: two double doors made of decaying wood.

The hinges always creaked when pried opened, giving the illusion that the basement was nothing more than storage, yet through those doors laid a bustling room of cockroaches and their bookies. Men in all shapes and sizes, in suits and sweatpants, with elaborate hairstyles and hats clustered around a giant roped-off area in the center of the basement.

Ritual followers of the activities referred to it as the Ring.

The dingy atmosphere of expensive cologne and cigar smoke was a trip back in the twenties when similar tactics were just for the high of living. Underground matches are like alcohol during the prohibition and the Ring was the modern-day speakeasy.

And that’s where you were, swimming in the stale fog of cigar smoke and sweaty bodies as you scored percentages into your small notebook, taking the bribes as cash was handed to you. The men with the expensive appearances always flaunted their exaggerated statistics, testing your knowledge about the Ring as if they weren’t facilitating some kind of kill match. They treated you as if you were the equivalent of a cigarette girl when in reality, you held their fortunes in your hand and controlled the fate of the fight.

You were Techno’s eyes, ears, and author. He would observe from afar, crossing his arms over his chest as you eyed Punz, telling him which way to fix the fight to make Techno the most money. Punz was completely attuned to you, his light eyes trained to search for your mild quirks and subtle hints as you pretended to add up the odds. Regretfully, it was a losing night against an outside competitor.

Punz drew in a sharp breath as you chewed the inside of your cheek, barely instructing him. You flashed him four of your fingers, knowing full-well that Techno was guaranteed at least a $10,000 payout if Punz let the competitor wail on him for that long. You always preferred the nights when you could nod for him to flatten the challenger in under two rounds, but nights like tonight left your stomach in knots.

You rolled the sleeves of your white button-up shirt, your suit jacket hanging on a fold-out chair nearest to Techno as you continued to work the floor. As you walked the perimeter, your gaze glued to Punz, who was wrapping white tape around his knuckles and watching you. You knew that his heavy-handed approach in the first few rounds would leave the protection in nothing but white tatters, peeling away from his butchered skin.

His lip was still busted from the match a few days prior, cheekbone tinted with a purple hue and eyes set tired to avoid giving away the adrenaline you knew was pulsing through his body. His hand flexed against the tape, giving him more motion. Your sights settled on the healing cut that divided his eyebrow, the memory of seeing Dream’s ring cut into Punz’s face making your blood boil.

You liked to stand on the opposite end of the make-shift ring from Punz. There were days when you wished you weren’t some kind of conductor for the underground matches, mainly so you could cheer on your lover like the rest of the spectators.

But alas, you were the puppeteer and Punz was your obedient marionette.

The fight began with the ringing of an ancient-looking shift bell, Punz stepping back on the balls of his feet as his opponent remained defensive. Punz rolled his eyes, sights flashing to you before moving to land the first blow; a heavy shot to the man’s side. You crossed your arms, nodding as if to tell him he only needed to lose by a hair.

At your direction the fight became bloodier, knuckles cracking against bone and rib cages, drawing the crimson streams of life from their bodies. In an ideal world where Punz was fighting for his own mercy and not the money bags of his boss, Punz would have wasted the opposing man, smiling as he did so.

Punz always seemed to gain stamina the more he was battered, thriving off of the blood pooling in his teeth or streaming down the side of his head. In bare-knuckle matches, he was almost unrecognizable in his blood lust.

The bell chimed again, the rounds moving quicker as Punz pretended to be worn out from the weaker jabs of his competitor. You chuckled to yourself, a smirk settling on your lips as he rolled his shoulders. His expression tilted towards you, seemingly noticing your amusement as he fought not to grin himself.

Punz launched his fist into his opponent’s face, blood gushing instantly from the man’s nose as Punz hammered another blow into his torso. The man retaliated by driving his elbow into Punz’s stomach before throwing his knuckles into Punz’s jaw. Punz’s t-shirt clung to his sweat-drenched body, the thought of peeling him out of those clothes later in the night made your skin prickle with goosebumps. His messy hair and concentrated eyes were allusions of unadulterated sin as he brushed the back of his hand over his mouth, wiping away the thread of blood trickling down his chin from his re-busted lip.

Punz knew to wear down, letting the man knock him against the ropes, Punz’s light eyes looking up at you with nearly a breath between the two of you. “Good boy,” you stated, only loud enough for him to hear. His eyebrow quirked at your words to combat the cocky grin wanting to break through his tough façade with your praise. He stood up straighter and submitted to losing as his competitor landed another punch.

After the fight, you indulged in the sound of your heels clicking against the staircase as you moved back up to the shop, the area quiet and desolate after the cockroaches had scampered away back into their crevices. You turned, starting down the long hallway towards the locker room, grabbing the First Aid kit off the wall on your way. The envelope of money felt heavy in your hand, its manilla coloring almost too obvious against your suited attire.

You pushed the door open with your foot, peering down one of the rows of lockers before spotting Punz, yawning slightly as he pulled off his shirt, revealing various old-style tattoos that matched the ones painted across his knuckles. Whenever you saw him in this state, you silently thanked George for his hours of work and steady hand.

Punz’s eyes perked up as you entered the room; the familiar sight of you ready to patch up his wounds brought a content smile to his bruised features. “How’d I do, dove?” He coaxed looking up at you as he sat on the dividing bench. His voice was raspy and deep from exhaustion.

You gave him a small smile, tossing your jacket on the other side of him and taking his face in your hand, pressing your lips against his briefly. Your nose brushed his as you placed a kiss on his cheek. “So good,” you hummed. He moved to straddle the bench as you sat in front of him, digging into the aid kit.

Before you could even start in on his wounds, his hands were snaking up your legs to grip your thighs, pulling you closer to him on the bench. You propped your knee against his, taking one of his hands and dabbing away the dried blood on his knuckles as he dug his face into the crook of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin as he took in your scent, his lips pressing against your neck before he unclasped the top few buttons of your shirt. His other hand moved to press against your freshly exposed skin, teeth nibbling at your ear lobe.

You let out a quiet giggle at his antics, moving your head to brush against his cheek and shrug him off. “Cut it out. You’ll distract me,” you muttered, stifling the obvious grin in your tone.

He let out a low chuckle, moving your hair out of the way before settling in the crook of your neck again, hand moving to wrap around your waist and draw you closer. “There’s no way. You’re too stubborn,” he jested, his stubble tickling your chest as he nibbled at the sensitive skin on your throat.

Once you finished with his hands, you moved onto his face, tending to the small cuts and scrapes. Punz continued his own form of clean-up as he pressed his lips against the inside of your wrist. You knew he was coming off of his fight high and you were waiting on him to rag you about wincing during some of the harder hits. He got off on the idea that your calm and indifferent surface cracked when it came to him.

His hands hooked around the back of your knees, tugging you practically into his lap as you rolled your eyes. His fingers untucked your shirt, slipping between the material and your skin as his lips traveled the length of your jaw. His blunt nails raked down your back, his neediness unmasked by the slight roll of his hips against yours.

You dropped what you were working on, running your fingers into his blond hair as he moaned against your skin. You moved your legs to wrap around his waist, letting him grip onto your hips and press you against his body. He sealed his lips against yours, hungrily kissing you with a groan. You tugged on his hair, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

His fingers unbuttoned the rest of your shirt, slipping it off your shoulders as your teeth moved to dig into his shoulder. His hands moved to tug your pants down your thighs. You pushed him back against the bench, balancing yourself on his lap as you settled his hands on your thighs, leaning down to kiss him again.

He gripped onto your hips, driving you to grind against him, a moan of his hand slipping through your lips in praise. Your fingers raked down his chest as you ground your hips against him, making him bite his lips to keep himself quiet.

He pushed himself into you, making you groan as you adjusted to his size, hungry for more friction. As you rolled your hips, his hands moved to your chest. You pulled his arm towards you, pressing your lips to the tattoo across his wrist in your handwriting. "You did so well tonight, baby," you cooed, earning a moan from him at your praise. "I'm so proud of you."

You leaned down, swallowing his lustful noises and you pressing your lips against his as you thrust against him. The tension from the night and the sight of him submitting to you completely.

His head tipped back against the wood, his hips swirling against yours as his mouth opened with a slight whimper. You clenched around him, feeling him throb inside of you. You bit back a smile, watching how easy it was to get him off as his cheeks flushed, a lazy grin on his face as you moved on top of him. "Fuck look how much you want me," you mocked, his hands moving to dig into your hips.

His brows furrowed as he mumbled your name, making you pick up your pace. "Shit, don't stop," he nearly begged.

You curled your hips, leaning down to press your lips to his neck. "You deserve it, my good boy," you husked, tongue flattening against his collarbone as he moaned at the feeling.

He pushed himself to sit up, giving you a new angle as you drove him deeper into you, thrusting against his body and tugging at his hair. He dug his face into the crook of your neck, quietly pleading out your name as if he were confessing his sins to you.

His coarse hands dug into your back, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as your head fell back, moaning about how good he was making you feel.

It didn't take long for him to finish, his hot seed spreading between your legs as he groaned darkly in your ear. You combed your fingers through his hair, letting him roll his hips against yours and ride out his high.

Dream kicked his feet up on Techno’s desk, popping a few jelly beans in his mouth from his position on the other side of Sapnap, the bone tattoos on his fingers making you slightly grateful for Punz's ink choices. Sapnap leaned his head back against the edge of his chair, closing his eyes tiredly as you crossed your legs, flipping through one of the magazines that Techno had stacked in the corner of his office. Punz flexed his hands, still sore from the previous night’s fight, as he watched your skirt ride up your thighs a few centimeters.

The office was silent between the four of you, waiting for the man in charge after he’d called all of you in for an “emergency meeting.” Punz looked over your shoulder at what you were reading and you angled yourself to share the magazine with him, trying to ignore the tension he was building between the two of you as his thigh brushed yours.

The bag of jelly beans in Dream’s pocket made shuffling noises as he moved closer to whisper something to Sapnap, making him chuckle softly. The door swung open, sending the four of you on your feet as Techno’s secretary rattled off what was on his docket for the day. He ran his fingers through his short pink hair, eyes zoning out slightly as he took a seat behind his desk before thanking the woman and sending her on her way. He motioned for all of you to sit.

“My anxiety is through the roof, I just need to know if I’m in trouble first, Tech,” Dream started in, making Punz’s eyes roll and you to let out a small laugh.

Techno began to feather through some of the papers on his desk, pulling on his glasses. His t-shirt flexed against his muscular arms. You were surprised to see him in casual clothes in the middle of the week, but you figured he had plans with Sapnap after the meeting. “No, you’re fine, Dream.”

Dream chewed on one of the jelly beans. “Are you sure, because I can’t figure out why I’d be in here. Like, I’m just,” he paused, leaning forward to look at you before snapping his fingers a few times searching for a word. “What do you call it?”

You scoffed. “A floater. Snap at me again and I’ll break your dick off,” you bit, making Punz subtly cover his mouth to conceal his grin.

Dream winked at you. “Sounds like one hell of a handjob,” he quipped back without missing a beat.

“Dream, shut the fuck up,” Sapnap sighed, looking at Techno as if to urge him to continue. Dream snickered at Sapnap.

Techno cleared his throat. “Okay, now that that’s out of our system,” he pulled a page from the stack. “Dream, I’m giving you more matches to take some of the weight off of Punz.”

You tilted your head. “What?” Techno’s gaze shifted to you as if commanding you to elaborate. “Punz makes you the most money out of all of them. You’re losing profit with Dream.” You weren’t going to sit idly by and let your lover get knocked down a peg. Especially, not for Dream to step up in his place.

Techno nodded. “It looks bad on my part if one of my fighters dies in the middle of a match though, doesn’t it?”

“It’s illegal underground fighting. He knows the risks-” Punz reached over to cover your mouth.

He sighed. “That sounds fine. No less than three a week, though.”

Dream let out a low whistle. “Damn, she let you borrow your balls just for this?”

Punz turned his head to him, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. “Hmmm. What does that bracelet say, sweet boy?” Sapnap laughed at Punz’s comment, making Dream punch his arm. Techno shook his head at all of you, settling his glasses on top of his head, pushing his bangs out of his eyes.

“You guys are all simps,” Techno murmured to end the discussion. “Sapnap, I have a new model I want you to test out. Punz, I’m leaving the shop to the two of you while I’m gone.” He gestured between you and Punz before tilting his head to Dream. “I mean this with the utmost respect but, go mutilate your body or something at George’s. I don’t trust you and Punz in the same room for more than ten minutes.”

You snorted and Dream shrugged at his words. As you all stood to leave, Sapnap and Techno began to discuss his new car modifications. “Hey, Dream. Can you get my name?” You teased and he pinched your cheek.

“Right above my ass because I know you’ll be staring at it anyway,” he jested. Punz moved to stand behind Techno’s desk, flipping through his account book. His knuckle tattoos flexed as his fingers searched for a specific tab.

You sighed. “Finally, I’ll have something to look at,” you countered, biting back a smirk. Dream mocked a pained expression before heading out the door. You turned back to Punz, walking behind Techno’s desk as well, your hands running along his black jacket. “You’re quiet today,” you muttered, fingers looping through his thin silver chain to draw it from beneath his shirt. You’d bought it for him for your anniversary a few years prior.

He turned towards you, his deadpan look sending shivers down your spine as his hand wrapped around your wrist. “You think I can’t defend myself?” He dared, eyes flickering with lust and heat as he looked at you. His hand moved to hold your chin, your breath hitching as his lips threatened to brush against yours. “I have half a mind to teach you a lesson for that.” His voice was mellow and low as he spoke to you, making your ears burn red.

His thumb moved to brush against your lip, your mouth opening to take his digit between your teeth almost instinctively. There was no way any of the guys would take you seriously if they knew how whipped you actually were for Punz, which was most of the reason why he let you lead when you were around them.

The other half of him liked when you were scary and in charge.

Punz knocked you against the desk, your torso hitting the wood as you bit back a giggle, gripping onto the edge of the wood as he kicked your legs apart. “Speaking for me like you’re my master,” he jabbed, pushing your skirt further up your waist and grinding against you. He tsked as you moaned, pressing your cheek to the grain, shoving Techno’s pen display to the side.

He gripped the collar of your shirt, snapping a few of your buttons. “Christ, Luke,” you moaned, voice uneven and out of breath. “I’m gonna run out of shirts,” you barely whined.

His lips pressed against your shoulder, nose moving to brush against behind your ear. “Are you complaining, pet?” He hissed, hand settling on the edge beside your own, grinding his hips against yours. You shook your head violently, making him lean off you. The sound of his belt dropping to the floor behind you made your head spin, your knees weak.

His hand brushed over your waistband, dipping below your skirt and smacking the curve of your ass. You whimpered at the impact, heart racing as your body throbbed for his attention. "Filthy slut. You like when I punish you, don't you?" Punz chided, pressing his knee between your legs and knotting his fingers into your hair. You rolled back against his thigh almost as if by instinct, hungry for his antics.

His palm smacked you again, gripping onto the sensitive, burning skin with his strong hand as if it were a trophy for him. Truth be told, you were his trophy, especially when you gave in like you were.

As you heard his zipper, your face flushed, gripping onto the wood as you readied yourself, submitting to Punz's mercy with a grin on your face.

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Part of a Team

Summary: Wanda is the newest Avengers recruit and she’s having a hard time finding her place in this new life- maybe she can find it in you?

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x y/n, you

Warnings: Brief mention of death and blood, minor language (if you squint theres kind of compromising situations? nothing outright sexual)

Word Count: ~2700

A/N: Reblogs, likes, and comments are VERY much appreciated, all mistakes are my own! xx 

**I don't own marvel and if I did Natasha would be alive**

Something was wrong. You were just in Strucker’s lab- just on the trail of one of the enhanced twins. The alarms were going off around you and your boots clanged on the metal floor- before you froze in your place, a red haze overtaking you and suddenly you were thrown into the daylight.

-

You felt tingles run through your veins and down your spine; your head throbbed. You felt vulnerable, seen. What the hell is going on-

You’re in the forest, you think. No- there are rocks. Big rocks-

Focus.

No, not rocks. Graves. Gravestones. Where the hell are you?

You drag your heavy feet over to the nearest, it takes a moment for your vision to focus.

Who’s grave? Who’s grave? Oh god.  No no no- this, this can’t be-

Natasha Romanoff.

You felt like throwing up. This couldn’t be real. You dragged yourself to another stone situated nearby: Clint Barton. Beloved husband, father, and friend.

It felt like you couldn't breathe, you were just there with them. You were just there.

Your body jerks as cold hands grab your shoulders and spin your body to face them-

Steve.

You throw your arms around his neck, “STEVE! Oh god Steve! You’re okay- you’re.. cold” you feel something wet and sticky on your hand, pulling it back and seeing red. So much red.

“Steve..” you quickly stumble back, tripping in the process. It’s then you see- it’s too late. His body was grey and lifeless. He falls onto his knees and then collapses totally. You scream and scramble backwards, head hitting another gravestone in the process.

You turn to face it, to read another name of one of the team members you’ve come to call family- but it's not one of theirs. It’s yours.

It’s your name. A graveyard for the Avengers, Earth’s mightiest heroes.

Suddenly your body jolts and you take a sharp intake of breath- your ears are pounding. Everything hurts. But you see her- the enhanced. She’s looking at you with a look you can’t describe. It’s not fear, it’s not anger.. Pity? Empathy? You can’t look away from her, the glowing red eyes capturing you as their prey.

And then there was black.

-

A few weeks later and you’re back at the tower. Things have changed- the entire world has changed, really. The battle opened up new doors- literal new doors to new realms- that the world had previously thought impossible.

The team had expanded, with Steve’s friend Sam joining the team, as well as Vision, the synthezoid that helped the team to defeat Ultron.

There was also her.

Wanda Maximoff was one of the enhanced twins from Strucker’s experiments, you eventually learned. It was voluntary, but after learning about her backstory you think you would have done the same in her place. 

She lost her brother- Pietro- in the battle and she took it hard. She didn’t come out of her room when she could help it. Clint was rather protective over her, maybe it was the fatherly figure coming out of him- maybe he was feeling guilt over being the one Pietro sacrificed himself to save. Either way, he was able to get her out of the room a few times and get her to eat. Vision also struck up a strange friendship with the girl- but then again, Vision was easy company, and rather empathetic for a synthezoid.

Everybody took a hit from when Wanda messed with their heads, some more than others.

You didn’t talk for a week.

Didn’t even talk with Clint’s kids when they wanted to play with you.

You didn’t hold it against her. She proved what a valuable asset she was to the team as she fought alongside the group. She did what she thought was right at the time, and that’s not something you could hold against anybody.

Ever since the Battle, Wanda has been staying in the Avengers facilities with the rest of the group, an official Avenger, but you could tell she was still uneasy around the team. She only talked when she was directly talked to and didn't come out of her room but for a few times a day for food and training, sometimes not even then.

And then there was you.

She seemed to avoid you like the plague. You weren’t even sure you two made eye contact for the entire first few weeks she was there.

At first you thought she just didn’t like you, that something about you rubbed her the wrong way, or something you had done had offended her.

But it was her eyes that gave it away- the same soft look that she gave you right after exploring the deepest and darkest parts of your mind that day at Strucker’s lab. She knew from the second it happened that she had hit a deep nerve, and she would continue to give you that damn look every time she thought you didn't notice her.

But you always did.

You couldn’t help it, the way you were drawn to her. She reminded you so much of yourself before joining the team, broken, and alone in your head. You wanted to know her. You wanted to be there for her, be someone to her, you didn’t want her to keep walking on eggshells around you.

And so, you told her.

You found her in the kitchen late one night. She was wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a garnet tank top with a plain gray robe overtop. Her hair was a mess, roughly shoved into a ponytail and her hands were cupped around a mug. She was blowing on what looked to be dandelion tea, and as you got closer the fragrant earthy smell confirmed your suspicions.

She looked adorable.

And slightly startled to find you alone with her.

“Evening” you said as a greeting as you made your way to the counter top.

She gave a tight-lipped half smile with a timid “Hi” before going back to blowing on her tea. She made a slight movement that looked like she was going to try to slip away before you continued,

“You did really well in training the other day. Cap can’t give you enough praise” you say, taking a seat on one of the counter barstools.

She looks puzzled for a moment over your attempt at small talk before getting out a “Thank you.”

You both stood there in silence for a moment, just looking at each other, feeling the air grow thicker with each second ticking by.

“I like the pajamas” you say with a small smirk. You yourself were still dressed for the day in your leather jacket and black jeans. You could have sworn you saw flush creep up her neck before she swallowed it down with a sip of her tea.

There was another silent moment as she gave you a quizzical look, “I don’t quite understand what’s happening here.” She says with a vague hand gesture to the space between them.

You gave a slight chuckle, it was very on-brand for Wanda to be straight to the point.

“Look, Wanda,” You rotated your body on the stool to face her more comfortably,

“I see the way you look at me when you think i’m not looking. You avoid me at any given opportunity, I actually think this has been the most words we’ve exchanged in your whole time living here.”

She raised her ducked head to look you in the eyes and gave a small shake to her head, “I don’t understand.”

You don’t break eye contact, but simply offer a small smile as you reply “I’m not afraid of you, Wanda. And I don’t hold anything from that day against you. All is forgiven, and I would like to move past that. I understand you believed everything you were doing was for the right reasons, and the only thing that it shows me is your dedication and loyalty to a greater cause. Even if it was the wrong one at the time.”

She looked shocked, to say the least. Her mouth slightly opening and closing as she pondered what to say in response.

“You all should be afraid of me. You see the chaos I’ve created and you think you know what I can do,” her voice caught before she continued, “But the truth is I don't even know what i'm capable of. I don’t belong here.” she says softly.

You give a sad smile before slipping off of the stool and moving closer to her.

“We all thought that, at one point or another. We’ve got a whole freak circus here, we’ve got more baggage than Delta flies in a year- that's, that's uh, an airline. My bad.” You elaborate after she gives you a puzzled look, holding back a smile at your stuttered explanation.

“Aaand I ruined the moment.” You give a small chuckle, before continuing “But my point still stands. Nobody belongs here more or less than anyone else. We’re all just here, that's the truth of the matter. We’re just a bunch of unlucky misfits trying to figure out how to work as a team. Just give it a try, and maybe you’ll find you fit in better than you imagined you would.”

At some point during your speech you had moved close enough to take her hand, and you look down at it now, blushing before going to move it away.

Before you could, she gives your hand a squeeze before moving in to place a gentle kiss against your cheek.

“Thank you, y/n.”

And with that she slips away to her room, leaving you alone with your racing heart and her lukewarm mug of tea.

-

The next morning you found yourself awake bright and early for another morning training session with Nat and Steve- but you had a guest this time.

“Wanda” you greeted, which she returned with a timid “Good morning.”

“I’m glad you could make it” you say, sincerely.

“I decided to take your advice.” She replies with the smallest smile pulling at her lips.

The two of you stood there for a moment, just taking each other in before Steve cleared his throat, “Alright, we should get started then. Wanda, I'll spar with you to start. Nat, you take y/n. Try not to kill each other, please.” He said with a humored smile.

You make your way towards the corner with Nat on your heels. She gives you a quizzical look with a raised brow, glancing between you and Wanda. You roll your eyes and shake your head, only responding with a pointed “Later,” before your legs sweep under hers and an arm wraps around her torso, flipping you both to the ground and landing with you on top of her.

“Using my own move against me, that’s a low blow y/n.” You both laugh, and you barely respond with a “I learned from the best” before she wraps a leg around your waist and grabs your wrists with one hand, flipping you over and pinning you to the ground. She winks and replies “Damn right you did.”

It went like that for another half an hour, the two of you going back and forth battling for the upper hand. Natasha was the one who had trained you since the beginning, and you could almost say you were near her equal now. Well, you could at least give her a run for her money in a spar.

The two of you were panting and glistening with sweat, cheeks flushed from the exercise when she gave you a mischievous wink and called out to the other two, “Hey grandpa, I think I’m done getting my ass kicked by y/n for the day. I want someone easy, come spar with me”

If looks could kill, the look you were giving her would have the assassin dead on the floor.

Steve only looked amused, grabbing a towel to wipe his own sweat as he responded “Bring it on, Romanoff. Try not to break anything, though. I’ve been told they want my bones for the Smithsonian” Nat rolled her eyes and gave a pointedly fake laugh before they made their way to the other side of the gym, leaving you and Wanda alone.

“Hi” you greeted. She responded with a small smile and a “Hi” in return.

She looked as though she were still catching her breath, the rise and fall of her chest was noticeably fast and her face was still adorned with a glisten of sweat and pretty pink flush.

The same flush you saw from her last night, standing in the kitchen with the dim light around her.

Oh God you were in deep now.

“Nat and I were just wrestling around, hand to hand combat kind of stuff, but I see you and Steve were boxing so it's up to you what you’d like to do.” you say quickly.

“Well.. I do have this,” She waves her hand to show her flicker of red powers “for missions, so I don’t think I really need that kind of training.” She says with a smirk, “But I admit, you seem like a good teacher. Maybe.. some basics?”

She was pushing it. Pushing at this, the same way you were pushing last night. Alright, maybe you could run with this.

You give her a teasing smile, “Alright then. We’ll start slowly. May I?” You ask, reaching out for her, but not quite touching.

“By all means” she says, and you can feel the familiar flush creeping up your neck again. You release a puff of breath and shake yourself out of your thoughts before stepping closer to Wanda, and in one fluid motion you had one leg behind hers, your left arm resting against her upper chest and your other at the small of her back, pushing her flush against yourself.

You could hear the small gasp she let out, smirking to yourself.

“This is a simple take down, easy to get out of, but good for beginning. Now i'm just gonna pull you down as slowly as I can-”

You bring her left leg out from under her and carefully let the two of you sink to the floor, leaving you straddled on top of her and pinning her arms to the ground. The air suddenly felt a lot warmer.

You meet her eyes, breath hitching as you feel her pulse quicken beneath your touch.

You clear your throat and begin again, “Like I said before, it’s easy to get out of, but you want to keep the element of surprise. Use your opponent's body weight against them, if you can twist your wrist to slip it out of their grip and use your hips to to flip-”

Before you could even finish she had you pinned beneath her, wind knocked out of you from the impact.

“Like that?” she said, looking down at you through hooded eyes, thick accent teasing- flirting?

You were suddenly very aware of your close proximity and compromising position- flush against each other with her hips straddling your waist; close enough to feel her rapid heartbeat. 

“Yeah- that was- that was good” you sputtered out, barely able to hear yourself over the rapid beating of your own heart. Or maybe it was hers- you aren't sure you could tell the difference between up and down right now.

She gave a proud smirk and opened her mouth to say something before a certain synthezoid floated through the gym walls, clueless to the moment he was interrupting.

“Mr. Stark requests a team meeting and would like you to meet him in the conference room.” He said simply before turning and leaving through the wall again.

Wanda gave you a look that seemed to say we’ll finish this later and moved off of you. You missed the heat of her body immediately.

She offered you a hand up and you gladly took it, the two of you walking side by side in silence to the meeting, shoulders bumping and small smiles shared between you two as you think to yourself that maybe you could get used to this. 

[uwuwriting]

Boyfriend w/ Megumi, Itadori and Gojo

Request: hii I just read your jujutsu nightmares piece and oh my god I am indeed a very simple simp and your writing just makes my heart go uwu so may I maybe req a very soft, fluffy s/o for Megumi, Itadori Sato and maybe Sukuna if you write for him? I hope it's not too much, thank uu <3 - anonymous

I can’t get enough of the JJK content, I love them so much my heart can’t take it. Sadly I don’t write for Sukuna *I think I mention it in my rules but I’m not sure*, he pissed me off big time in the manga so yeah sorry about that. Really all the curses have kinda pissed me off but that’s a story for another day lmao. Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: boyfriend things lol, fluff, maybe some angst sprinkled on top but not a lot. 

Fushiguro Megumi 

-Megumi reminds me of Suna from Haikyuu. 

-Like a lot. 

-He will put effort in the relationship of course but he won’t flaunt it around in everybody’s faces. 

-Yes he has a s/o and yes he is in love but in his book that should be mostly kept in between you two, no one else has to know. 

-So at first your relationship isn’t really acknowledged by the others. 

-It’s so subtle at casual that everyone around you thinks that you’re merely best friends and close to each other. 

-Only Makki knows that you two are a thing since she sees how you worry and take care of him after he has been injured. 

-It’s different from platonic concern and she knows what’s going on. 

-Plus she saw you steal a kiss one time and that sealed the deal. 

-Eventually the others figure it out and they are losing their shit, for completely different reasons though. 

-Nobara can’t believe Megumi got a s/o before she did. 

-Gojo is hurt because neither of you said anything and he has been trying to hook you up for the past two years now. 

-Itadori is just confused because he thought that you were like that to everyone. 

-Now PDA is non-existent with this one. 

-He doesn’t feel comfortable touching you in public even if it’s a small peck. 

-He prefers showing his love behind closed doors or through acts of service. 

-So expect to find multiple bentos waiting for you in the kitchen each morning or a hot bath on the ready when you come back from a long mission. 

-You are okay with the no PDA rule, your only request is that he at least hold your pinkie when you need it. 

-It grounds you and who is he to say no to that?

-During missions he doesn’t underestimate your strength and let’s you do your thing. 

-He only interferes when you ask for help or when he notices that you’re extremely overwhelmed. 

-He doesn’t smother you and you are eternally grateful for that. 

-Training sessions between the both of you are brutal. 

-Neither holds back and you're left a panting, sweating mess at the end, crawling to your respective rooms to change before you settle for a movie later that afternoon.

-If either of you gets injured it’s mama bear time. 

-You need to change your bandages? Megumi has already taken out the kit and all the essentials. 

-He needs to take some meds to calm the pain in his ribcage? You have the pills in hand. 

-He is a shy boy so even in private he hesitates to touch you. 

-Don’t get him wrong he loves holding you and feeling you close to him but he is also afraid he will make you uncomfortable or overstep. 

-So you will be the one initiating cuddle session during the first months of your relationship. 

-After a while he will simply pick you up and carry you to his bed for cuddles if he needs them without uttering a word the whole time. 

-Good morning/Goodnight kisses are a must. 

-It’s a ground rule that he follows religiously since day one. 

-It doesn’t matter if it’s a simple peck on his lips or a passionate kiss, he just wants to get a kiss before starting/ending the day. 

-Sleeps on his stomach with an arm always draped over your waist. 

-Isn’t really into the whole sleeping on each other thing but he won’t say no to being the big spoon or even better the little spoon. 

-He gets flustered when you kiss his knuckles or trace patterns on his palms. 

-He knows his hands are rough from all the training but after your touch they feel tender and gentle. 

-Prefers indoor dates rather than outdoor ones. 

-His favorite  is cooking dinner together and then cuddling on the couch *in hopes you won’t get interrupted by Gojo*.

-The only thing he dislikes about the whole relationship thing is the teasing he receives from Gojo. 

-He is ready to rip his ears off. 

-Boy has murder on his mind 24/7 and it is all directed to his mentor.

-Gojo noticed that Megumi had you as his wallpaper ONCE and now it’s game over for your boyfriend. 

-The thing is that you don’t get teased as much and he is *salty*. 

Itadori Yuuji

-He is such a lovable boy, how could you NOT fall in love with him?

-Your relationship is naturally effortless. 

-Everything flows so naturally and without even trying you two have formed such an unbreakable bond that not even Sukuna himself can tether even if he tried. 

-Many MANY spontaneous trips to the nearest convenience store at 3 am.

-Oh you are craving some popcorn? Well go on, get your shoes, we are going grocery shopping. 

-Won’t hesitate to do anything for you and when I say anything I mean it. 

-He ditched Gojo once because you had bad period pains and said you needed cuddles. 

-What cruel creature would he be if he denied his beautiful girlfriend her cuddles??? 

-Sukuna has cockblocked you two and has ruined your cuddles on multiple occasions. 

-From weird noises to rude comments to interrupting Yuuji’s thoughts with random shit. 

-Real party crasher. 

-Yuuji’s love language is touch mainly so expect a shit load of hugs and kisses. 

-Won’t let go of your hand while you are out in public. 

-If he can’t hold your hand he will place his palm in the small of your back or wrap his arm around your shoulders/waist. 

-It’s a physical need. 

-He has to be touching you at all times because that reminds him that you are truly here beside him and that you are okay. 

-The sorcerer's life has already taken a toll on his mentality and he hates leaving you alone so most of the time you go on conjoined missions. 

-Unlike Megumi he tries to protect you during fights by all means. 

-He doesn’t do it because he sees you as weak and in need of protection it’s just an instinct that he can’t control at all. 

-He will put himself in immense danger, taking all the blows just so you can leave the scene unscathed. 

-You have scolded him on his complete disregard of his own life and the tears that pooled in his eyes as he explained that his body moves on its own when he sees anything darting towards you, breaks your heart. 

-If you kiss the little marks under his eyes all his worries fly out the nearest window. 

-He forgets about everything around him, about the looming threat of his imminent execution, the only thing on his mind are your lips on his cheekbones and your thumbs rubbing circles on his cheeks. 

-If you pepper him in too many kisses he will begin his own assault by first tackling you to the floor or the bed and capturing you in a hug before the smooches begin. 

-He has a tendency to leave hickies on your neck which you struggle to cover each morning and you are always real close to glaring at him when he beams like the sun itself at you in the morning but your mild anger fades the moment his lips meet yours. 

-You have your suspicions that he knows what he is doing with that, he knows his kisses make you weak so he uses them to his advantage. 

-Will never admit it but it always places a small smirk on his lips every time you clutch his shirt for balance or rest your forehead on his shoulder to regain your composure. 

-An I love you a day is required for good vibes. 

-Won’t hesitate to shout it even in front of others, he just has no filter and no shame. 

-Makes you turn tomato red and he snickers. 

-Fuck him, literally. 

Gojo Satoru

-This fucking tease. 

-He has no chill!!!!!!

-How are you with him?!?!?!?!!

-My man fine af and he drinks his respect for y/n and y/n alone juice every morning. 

-That doesn’t mean though he won’t try to fluster you throughout the day. 

-It’s his main goal really. 

-Full blown make out sessions in the hallways of the school, ass smacks in front of others and trying to leave hickies on your neck during your lunch break. 

-It simultaneously pisses you off and turns you on so you can’t decide if you should smack him or jump his bones. 

-It’s a never ending debate and his chances of getting the quawk quawk 5000 are 50/50. 

-He respects your boundaries when you give him a sign that you really don’t want him to be like that on certain days. 

-He is a very observant individual in general so it’s not hard for him to take note of the signs of pure discomfort or awkwardness. 

-True he loves flustering you but the moment things get out of hand and you don’t feel okay with how he is acting, he is throwing his attitude out the window and becomes respectful Gojo in a flash. 

-Likes having his arm draped over your shoulder. 

-He is super tall so chances are he towers over you. 

-He has used you like an armrest several times which resulted to a trip to Shoko for a dislocated wrist/shoulder. 

-You make him bentos almost everyday and he waits for them like a lost puppy. 

-No matter the time, he doesn’t care if he is late, he will wait for you to make him a little bento to take with him. 

-Curses can wait, he needs to receive his first dose of y/n love of the day. 

-Brags to his student about you and to Nanami, much to the blonde’s dismay. 

-Talks everyone’s ear off. 

-He becomes super protective when an elder shows up or at the mere mention of them. 

-He will grasp your hand, keeping a firm grip as those pretentious fucks stare down at you. 

-They really don’t care about Sato’s happiness and they will never show you a fiber of respect despite being chosen by the strongest sorcerer. 

-You are not part of one of the three clans so you are worth nothing in their eyes. 

-Gojo hates them for that. 

-Deep rooted hatred that could turn into a mass murder if one of them call you a distraction or a slut one more time. 

-You are really grateful for him in those moments. 

-You are grateful in general but during those times when you are being bombared left and right with rude comments, he will remind everyone in the room that he doesn’t give a flying fuck about what they believe. 

-He fell in love with you because you are your beautiful self and not because you are a powerful sorcerer. 

-He wants to imagine your kids as a sign of your love and not as an item of power, as a weapon like many of these people see him. 

-He has ditched the elder meetings on many occasions just because he wasn’t in the mood of listening to their bullshit so he came home to you and spent the rest of his night cuddled up under the large comforter, watching a movie while peppering your shoulders with kisses. 

-Adores seeing you in his clothes. 

-They are so big on you that you wear them as dresses around the house. 

-He especially loves the sight of your bare legs peeking from underneath his black t-shirt. 

-99% of the time this ends up in you getting your guts rearranged. 

-Surprisingly remembers all the important dates and he makes it to as many dates as he can. 

-Being a sorcerer is difficult man, give him a break curses he has a date at 8 and he needs to get his formal glasses. 

-All in all he loves you to the moon and back and would do anything to keep you safe and next to him. 

TAG  TEAM AY:

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[donghyuckcuyhgnod]

let me in

“oh, i’m sorry- hold on just a second,” you said to your friend, her nodding her head in response. you fished the vibrating phone out of your pocket, confused to see that jeno was calling you. jeno never calls me, you thought. with confusion, you answered the call and put the phone up to your ear.

“hello?” you said. the sound of a few other people bickering in the background was heard, before a distant, “dude! she answered!” was heard. you assumed it was chenle upon hearing the voice.

“hello? y/n?” jeno finally said, nervousness in his voice.

“yeah, it’s me. why’d you call-“

“can you come over? something is wrong with jisung,” he said, the voices in the background now quiet. you assumed they were too focused on listening to the phone call.

“what do you mean something is wrong with him? i’m with a friend right now, i can’t be rude and just leave!” you said, which caught your friend’s attention. she shook her head at you, an understanding look on her face as she mouthed the words, “it’s alright, go!”

“y/n, please!” jeno begged. you sighed, looking at your friend as you silently thanked her, blowing her a quick, friendly kiss before standing up and leaving the coffee shop you were in. “i’ll be there soon,” you said, hanging up the call and walking to the nearest bus stop.

—

“i’m here!” you yelled as you walked into the dorms. jeno, jaemin, renjun, chenle and donghyuck came running to you as soon as they heard your voice.

“jesus, y/n! what took you so long?” donghyuck asked, his actions of hugging you like a koala completely contradictory from his sassy tone of voice.

“it’s called the bus, hyuck,” you laughed, affectionately patting him on the head. “now, what the hell did you guys rush me over here for? and where’s jisung?” you said, noticing that the sixth boy of the group, your boyfriend, was missing.

“that’s why we called you here,” chenle said. “he got home from his voice lessons a few hours ago and he went straight to his room. since then, he hasn’t come out and he refuses to let us in. he’s acting really weird,” jaemin said. you sighed, worry now taking over you as you pushed through the five boys, heading straight down the hall and to his room. they followed close behind you, but you stopped them before they could get any closer to jisung’s bedroom door.

“just. . . let me try. he might open it for me, but not if you guys are up my ass,” you scolded them. they nodded, backing away a bit as you turned towards his door. lifting your balled fist up, you sighed as you shakily knocked on the door.

“sung? it’s me, baby. wanna let me in?” you asked softly, the sweet tone of your familiar voice grabbing the said boy’s attention. before you could say another single word, the sound of his lock clicking was heard before another round of silence. looking at the boys, they all urged you to try his doorknob. just as they had suspected, it was unlocked, and you slowly let yourself into his room before closing the door behind you. turning around, you saw your boyfriend sitting on the edge of his bed, his back facing you. his head was down, his hands anxiously rubbing his thighs.

“jisung? are you okay?” you asked, making your way towards the boy. you sat next to him, trying to look at his face but he desperately avoided your eyes. “jisung, you’re going to have to face me sooner or later,” you said, your hand now lightly placed on his thigh in comfort. he sighed, slowly lifting his head and looked at you.

you gasped, a loud screech coming from you the moment your eyes caught his bruised eye and busted lip. “park jisung!” you yelled, “who did this to you!?”

other than a quiet sigh, jisung remained silent. your hand reached up to his cheek (the one that wasn’t swollen and bruised), as you rubbed it gently. “baby, what happened?” you asked more softly this time, his eyes never once meeting yours. for a few moments, the two of you sat in silence. to be quite honest, you weren’t entirely sure what to do. before asking any questions, you decided on cleaning his wounds.

“come on,” you sighed, pulling him up by his hand. he looked at you with confusion in his eyes, and you were pretty sure you heard and felt your own heart crumble into pieces. jisung looked unusually sad, his teary eyes boring into yours, and you couldn’t help but pout at him. his hand still in yours, you forced him to the bathroom where the first aid kit was located.

walking out of jisung’s room, you gave a warning glance to the boys that stood outside of the door. they instantly understood, seeing as jisung was clinging to you like a koala as you walked to the bathroom. his arms were tightly wrapped around your back, his face buried in your neck, causing you trouble when walking. however, you didn’t say anything to him about it.

“sit,” you demanded, pointing to the closed toilet seat. upon hearing your tone of voice, jisung immediately did as told as he watched you fish everything you needed out of the sink cabinets. taking a wet cloth, you dabbed the cut on his lip, wiping the now dried up blood so that you could clean it.

applying ointment to his bruised eye, you sighed. “are you going to tell me what happened?” you questioned, a serious tone in your voice that jisung had never heard before. he opened his eyes, looking at you through his lashes as you stood between his legs. you put your hands on your hips, and for a moment, you reminded him of his mother when she would scold him as a child. you seemed disappointed, and jisung didn’t like to disappoint you.

“well, i. . . i got into a fight,” he trailed off as you looked at him incredulously. “well, obviously! i should’ve rephrased the question—why did you get into a fight? that’s not like you, sung,” you said. you continued cleaning his busted lip, jisung wincing every once in a while due to the sting of the cleanser. he stayed silent.

you groaned in frustration, “jisung, if you don’t tell me anything, i can’t help you! now tell me! what happened!?” you threw the hand towel in the sink, once again putting your hands on your hips as you stared at him. jisung had never seen you mad, and his heart fluttered at the anger in your eyes. this time, however, it wasn’t a good kind of flutter.

“one of the assholes training me was shit talking you! he was saying all these bad things about you right to my face and i lost control! he wouldn’t shut up, y/n! he rambled on and on and on and on about how you weren’t good enough for me! which is bullshit! everything he was saying about you was utter bullshit! how in the hell was i supposed to just sit there and listen to him!?” he finally bursted, standing up from the toilet seat. his voice sounded strained and broken, tears flowing freely out of his eyes as he kicked the wooden cabinet.

your eyes began to tear up as well, seeing the frustration and sadness in your boyfriend made your heart ache. had he really fought someone. . . in defense of you? you sighed, your eyes trained on the now cracked cabinet. you could hear the worried whispers of the other boys just outside the door, the obvious hesitation to go in being discussed by them.

jisung’s breathing was heavy, and although his back was turned to you, you could clearly see his chest heaving up and down. his head hung low in shame, and the sheer thought of raising your voices at each other lingered in both of your minds. it was bound to happen eventually, you thought, but you didn’t expect it to be in a situation like this.

“jisung,” you whispered, and you could see his head tilt towards you in the slightest. “i’m sorry, i. . . i didn’t know,” your voice trailed off. he turned to you, his cheeks red with emotion, his eyes puffy and red.

“why are you apologizing? i’m the one who got into a fight. i shouldn’t have pushed him. i was just so angry! i’ve never been that angry before, y/n. . . i’m so sorry,” jisung admitted, sitting back down on the toilet as he held his head in his hands. you took one big step and reached him, pulling his face out of his hands and up to look at you.

“it’s okay, jisung. i’m not mad at you. i just worry about you. i’m your girlfriend, that’s what we do. i don’t want to see you get hurt,” you sighed, gesturing towards the small injuries scattered around his face, and even on his fist. “this better not happen again, park jisung.”

“i know, i know. i’m sorry. please don’t leave me, y/n. i don’t know what i would do without you,” he said, his eyes tearing up again.

“who said anything about me leaving you? stop apologizing and just calm down, okay? park jisung, i am never going to leave you and you better know it. i’m right here, baby, okay? i’m not going anywhere,” you said, your voice filled with sincerity and genuineness. jisung’s lip quivered, his arms wrapping around your middle as he hid his face in your stomach. your own arms wrapped around him, your fingers tangling in his hair as a method of comfort.

“calm down, sung. it’s okay, i promise.” you leaned down, pressing a loving kiss to the top of his head as you allowed his tears to wet your shirt. he finally calmed down, his eyes looking back up at you. seeing his expression nearly broke your heart, and you simply couldn’t stand seeing him this way. so, instead of letting your own tears fall, you decided to lighten the mood.

“well, did you win?” you said, referring to the fight that initially caused this whole situation. this, like you had hoped, caused jisung to giggle despite the tears in his eyes.

“hell yeah, i did,” he responded, causing you to laugh along.

[homerforsure]

for the Fun Fact Prompts ! why are you in a tree?

Dear Anon! It's more of a first line prompt than a fun fact prompt, but given that I instantly knew the second line of this as soon as I read the first, I'll allow it.

This got very silly and very far away from me, so the bulk of it is under the cut <3

“Why are you in a tree? No, wait, wait don’t tell me. K-I-S-S-I-N-G?”

“Maddie, can you focus please?” Buck whines into the phone. “We’re stuck.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” she laughs. “Tell me again. Where are you guys?”

Buck explains their location in the park, the fallen ladder, and Maddie agrees to come and rescue them as soon as she can.

“Of all the times for Albert not to answer his phone,” Buck grouses as he shifts on the tree branch to get his own back into his pocket. “He wouldn’t show up and sing at us.”

“Sing?” Eddie asks.

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“Did she say how long-?”

“Just whenever she can. She’s gonna have to pack the baby up so we could be here for hours. You didn’t have anywhere to go right?”

“Me? No. Sitting in an oak tree was my only plan for the day.”

“Sorry,” Buck winces.

It's his fault that they’re stuck. It started with a kite. A big blue one lodged high in the branches of a tree that he spotted when he was biking through the park. A couple of kids were standing below it, looking up with sad expressions and making valiant efforts to boost each other up onto the lower branches. The tree was too big for them though, the branch too far from the ground. Buck had slowed to a stop beside them.

The branch was out of reach for him too, even when leaning his bike against the tree and trying to climb up on the seat. Fortunately the park had a concession stand--closed now, open just for little league games--and the stand had a ladder leaning against the side of the building. It was nothing for Buck to jog over and loosen the rusted brackets holding the ladder in place, then to brace it against the tree and start climbing.

The tree was full of sturdy branches, easy enough to climb. He just… needed to find a route. The kite was further up than it had looked from the ground, tangled in leaves and dangerously far out on the limb.

As Buck stood contemplating, another strong breeze had come through (it was perfect kite flying weather after all), making him wobble on the branch and sending his ladder crashing to the ground.

The kids had shrieked and run off without their kite, completely ignoring Buck’s pleas to just put the ladder back and then vanished over the nearest hill. The stiff wind and unseasonably cool weather had left the park more deserted than usual and Buck had had to swallow his pride and call Eddie who only laughed at him a little.

That wind blows hard again, chilling Buck through his training jersey and making the branches sway. He reaches up to grab the branch overhead, trying to feel a little more stable and Eddie reaches out toward him automatically, even though he’s too far away to reach. The other man is sitting against the trunk of the tree, leaning back, serene and stable, as though he’s on the ground and not 10 feet in the air.

“You were wrong, you know,” Buck says, once he has his balance back.

One of Eddie’s eyebrows quirks up as if to say, Wrong? Me?

“You could never have gotten up there from the other way.”

“Well it’s not like your way worked out that much better.”

When his boyfriend (and wow did that term send shivers up and down Buck’s spine every time he thought it, new and fresh as it still is) had turned up at the park, he’d righted the ladder immediately, expecting Buck to climb back down. Instead, knowing he had a stable route down, Buck had turned his attention back up toward the kite and called back that he’d be down in just a minute.

“Which way are you going?” Eddie had asked. So Buck had pointed out the route to him.

“No. No way. You’re gonna get stuck at that skinny branch and you’ll never make it. You’ve got to go up the other way.”

“What other way?”

Eddie pointed it out and Buck scoffed, “Now that’s ridiculous. You’re not even going to be able to reach it from there.”

“Wanna bet?” Eddie had said.

So now they were both stuck on the branch, kiteless.

“You should come over here,” Eddie says, frowning as the wind shakes the tree again and Buck holds on against the sway. “The branch doesn’t move as much.”

“You worried about me?” Buck asks, smirking over at Eddie who just rolls his eyes.

“It’s not a secret anymore, Buck. You breaking your spine is going to seriously fuck with my weekend plans.”

His weekend plans with Buck. The two of them alone. For the first time since Eddie had pinned Buck against his kitchen counter and kissed him senseless. If Buck had ever had any incentive to stay out of the hospital it was for this promise of whatever Eddie wanted to do next.

“Well I’d hate to do that,” he says, looking over at Eddie through his lashes with faux remorse. “I already ruined your afternoon.”

“Will you just get your ass over here?” Eddie replies, trying not to look ridiculously pleased as he holds out his arm to coax Buck over.

Buck needs very little coaxing. He stands because it’s easier than scooting, walking the tightrope of the tree branch until he’s directly beside Eddie, then dropping down again. “Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” Eddie replies.

It’s dangerous to let himself get distracted when he’s perched so precariously, but Buck can’t help it. With his right hand reached overhead to grab the next branch for balance, he holds out his left for Eddie to take. That Eddie does without hesitation, that he squeezes tight, that he smiles at Buck with that soft, happy smile he doesn’t give to anyone else, still feels like a precious gift. It’s so new, what they have. Buck wants to melt into every moment. Cherish it like it may never come again.

“So,” Eddie says, running his thumb over the back of Buck’s hand. “How do people kiss in trees do you think? It seems pretty dangerous to me.”

Humming as though he’s giving the matter serious thought, Buck says, “A tree house probably makes the most sense.”

“Sure. If you were smart enough to plan ahead. But if you weren’t…”

“If you weren’t,” Buck says, taking his hand back so he can move again, carefully, carefully swinging one leg over so he’s straddling the branch. “I think there’s still a few options. You should, uh, get as close to the trunk as you can. With your back to it, probably.”

Once he’s sure that Buck’s stable, Eddie takes the instruction, using that taller branch to lift himself up just a little, turning, shifting one leg over the branch like Buck has, and settling back against the tree trunk. At the stoutest part of the branch, Eddie almost has a stable seat, though he still crosses his legs tightly below the branch to hold his position. “I can see how this would work,” he says. “If you were careful.”

“Oh careful is the most important thing,” Buck says, inching forward, hand over hand above his head. “It helps to have a strong partner. One who won’t let you fall.”

When he reaches Eddie, he keeps his knees pressed close to the branch so he can try and fit himself between Eddie’s legs, so they can get as close as possible. Buck sees Eddie’s eyes flash with concern when he moves his hands from the branch down onto Eddie’s shoulders and immediately feels one strong arm behind his back.

“One hand on the branch,” Eddie says, his breath close enough to tickle Buck’s ear. “Please.”

“Chicken,” Buck says, lifting his left hand again to clutch the branch.

“Daredevil,” Eddie replies, lifting his own hand and clutching Buck’s fingers over their heads.

“You like it,” Buck teases, unable to stop himself from grinning as he stares into Eddie’s eyes to see exactly how much he does.

“You’re awfully full of yourself.”

“You like that too. You pretend like you’re so mature and by the book, but you like me getting you all riled-”

The rest of his sentence is lost to Eddie’s mouth on his. Buck gives himself over to it immediately, letting Eddie’s firm hand on his back push him forward just a little bit more. He lets his own arm slide behind Eddie’s neck, feeling the bark bite into him on one side and Eddie’s soft hair tickling on the other. Buck loses himself to it, quickly losing his balance as he does and he squeezes tightly to Eddie’s hand anchoring him in place.

“I like all of it,” Eddie whispers, once they pull apart. “I like you.”

Buck has just enough time to enjoy the little shiver that those words send through all his nerves before Eddie’s kissing him again. The chill of the wind, the height from the ground, even the uncomfortable feel of the branch beneath them all fades into the background. Eddie’s kissing him and Buck’s as secure as he’s ever been.

It’s only Maddie’s voice that pulls them out of the moment, sing-songing from the bottom of the tree as she lifts their ladder, “Buck and Ed-die, sittin’ in a tree…”

If you know any fun facts, send them to me and I'll see if I can't make a ficlet out of it!

[cunningambitousdetermined]

The Plan (Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader)

title: the plan

pairing: natasha romanoff x f!reader

warnings: mild swearing, mentions of homophobia, FLUFF with a dash of angst

summary: Y/N has been in love with Natasha Romanoff for a VERY long time and honestly, Tony is getting sick of watching it. Natasha has been in love with Y/N since the very first day and Steve can’t take the assassins obliviousness anymore. Steve and Tony, reluctantly of course, team up to make the pair notice how perfect they are for each other. (OH SHOOT IM SORRY I SUCK AT SUMMARIES WOW)

requested by @iamninaanna: 

Hey Sunshine, I love your writing, so I'm here to request something :) 

Can I please request a Natasha Romanoff × reader, where the Avengers are playing truth or dare, and somebody challenges Natasha to kiss the reader, or something like that, and then they confess their feelings to one another. I was having something in mind, I hope it's not to specific, that like Natasha rambles about the reader to Steve A LOT, and he's so sick of it, he has to do something about it, while it's the same situation with reader, just that she's talking to hers best friend, which can be any of the Avengers, you decide, and then Steve and the reader's best friend make a plan together, and well, you know the rest <3

Okay, that was a lot, but I'm really excited😊 Thank you if you write it!!

a/n (i think that's what i put when i’m responding, if i screwed it up please let me know, it would be much appreciated) :

hi taja! thank you so much, this is the first time someone has requested something and im really excited. but also terrified. more terrified. reader is a girl but if someone wants me to rewrite this as gender neutral, i can.  hope i do it justice and if your reading this, thank you for reading. if anyone has any feedback, it’s always welcome. okay here i go!!

the story: 

Y/N Y/L/N flopped backward on to Tony Stark’s bed, grabbed the nearest pillow and let out a angry scream into the unsuspecting piece of cloth and feathers. 

“Woah kid, what’d the pillow do to you?” Tony joked, his eyes still trained on whatever new gizmo he was working on, chuckling at his best friends antics.

“It’s fucking Natasha” Y/N mumbled quietly into the pillow, her voice muddled by the soft white sheets that she buried her head farther in. Tony was silent, the only sounds was the clinking of the Tony’s robots and tools working, so she assumed he hadn’t heard her. Not that she wanted him too anyway. 

Y/N was in love with Natasha Romanoff. Head over heels, fully in love with the assassin that she’d worked closely with for the past years. To describe how Y/N felt about Natasha in words would never to how she really felt in justice. Natasha was a tall glass of Coke: Orange Vanilla. Rare, unsuspectingly sweet, and utterly addicting. Her red hair, the black bodysuit, the way she fought, she could take down 10 men on her own, with her bare hands. She was sweet- always sharing her secret candy stashes with Y/N- smart -helping Y/N out when she was still taking classes. 

Sometimes Y/N really thought Natasha felt the same way, then she flirted with a guy here and hot girl there and the idea fled from her brain.  Y/N had never seen Natasha have an inclination toward women, she flirted with every living thing. Y/N liked to think it was a coping with feelings for someone and that's why she was so flirty but in reality, Y/N knew there was no way she felt near the same way. She was an extra to the Avengers. And besides, no one even knew she liked girls. 

“It’s what, darling?” Tony had moved and was now sitting in front of Y/N, spinning around in his chair like a little kid in their dad’s office.

Y/N wanted to tell him how in love she was with Natasha, she wanted to tell him all the little things she noticed, all the little things she loved. But she couldn’t. How would Tony take it? Tony might take it okay, but the team? Steve? Bucky? They were from the 40′s, women didn’t love other women openly back then, did they still think it was... unnatural? She didn’t think she could deal with being any more of an outcast. Did Natasha like girls? The thoughts were drowning her slowly, cutting off her air supply, the last bit of air building up into a scream that she would never let out. 

Tony coughed and Y/N realized she’d been silent for too long. “Tony....” she took a deep breath in, “I- uh-...,” Tony raised an eyebrow, waiting for to go on. Y/N coughed clearing nothing from her throat, elongating the silence before she just spit the words out like hot fire. “I’minlovewithNatashaandIdontknowwhattodo?” 

“You’re what?” Tony asked, having caught nothing of that sentence, something about Natasha but honestly he was still lost. 

Y/N felt a little better and slowed herself down. She trained her eyes on a seam in the comforter and whispered, “I’m in love with Natasha and I don’t know what to do”

There was a silence and Y/N could feel it smothering her, pulling her into the water, dunking her head under, she was drowning and, and and- Tony erupted in laughter. Y/N’s head shot up and she stared at him, color drained from her face. Tony rocked back and forth but when he came up again, he caught the absolute terror on her face and his smile dropped. 

“Y/N?” he asked softy, he stood up, plopping on the bed next to her, “Babe?” Tony tried to catch her eye, ducking his head but she turned away. He grabbed her chin in his large hands, “Babe, I wasn’t laughing at you. God, I’m such an idiot.” he blew out a harsh breath, “I was laughing because I already knew, not because you are in love with her.” Tony felt her face relax and he turned her chin to meet his eye. 

“You knew?” Y/N asked softly, tears still gathered in her eyes. Tony’s eyes softened as he saw the tears and he used the pads of his thumb to wipe them away. 

“I’m sorry Y/N. I don’t care if you like women. I’ve known you had some sort of feelings for Natasha for a while, you can see it when you look at her. I was just waiting for you to tell me.” Y/N laughed at this now and threw her arms around Tony, who wrapped her up in a hug. “Now, tell me more about Natasha and this ‘love’” he said, his voice muffled by her hair. 

~

“STEVEEEE” Natasha groans, letting down her normal assassins façade. 

“Mmm” Steve hummed in reply, motioning for her to come in to his room. She smiled and darted to the spinning chair in the corner, propping her feet up on the desk. It was silent for a little bit, the pair just enjoying each others company when Natasha spun her chair around and broke the silence. 

“Do you think Y/N likes women?” Steve already knew the Natasha liked women and he was totally cool with it. Nat has been surprised when he had been super supportive but was very grateful for all the love and reassurance he’d given her. 

“Nat,” Steve sighed dramatically, “She can’t NOT know your in love with her, unless she’s totally oblivious which she may be...” He turned to face her, jumping on his bed to be closer to her, “You should just tell her” 

“But...” Nat frowned, “what if she doesn’t like women? And I creep her out? And..” She stopped as she felt Steve lay a hand on her shoulder. 

“How could she not like you?” he questioned, “And trust me, it’s quite obvious how she feels.” 

“HOW SHE FEELS?!” Nat practically screamed, so unlike her that Steve leaned back. She cleared her throat, “Sorry- she feels...?” 

“She’s in love with you, obviously”

Nat grabbed a pillow from the bed and screamed into it, then looked at Steve, wary, “Really? Y/N with her...” Steve tuned out the rest of what Nat said, he’d heard it all before. Too many times. Nat sighed, in a happy way that Steve had never heard from her before, “Y/N...”

~

Steve knew that this had to end, Natasha and Y/N pretending they weren’t head over heels for each other. He’d heard enough of Nat’s wistful rants, it was so unlike her, it was starting to worry him. If he was correct in his guess, Tony was feeling the same way. So, despite Tony being, well, Tony, Steve sought him out to solve the mess. 

~

“Truth or dare, old man?” Clint smirked at Tony, all the avengers had settled for a night in and decided to play truth or dare. Y/N had rolled her eyes at this, they were too old for it, but settled in next to Tony anyway. 

“Dare, obviously” Tony rolled his eyes at Clint, eagerly awaiting his fate. 

“I dare you to stand on top of the tower and sing at least 30 seconds of ‘Rich Girl’ by Gwen Stefani and livestream it.” Tony laughed at this and stood up. 10 minutes and one livestream later, all of them were laughing harder then they had in a long time. 

“Okay, okay, my turn to ask,” Tony smiled, “Natasha, truth or dare?” Steve couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face, the plan was in motion. 

“Dare...” Natasha didn’t let her voice waver, her signature smirk on her face. 

“I dare you to kiss Y/N”

The whole room fell silent. Y/N’s face flamed and her eyes filled with tears. Was this a joke? Tony knew how she felt. How could he? The eyes in the room were on Nat and her but she ignored them as she got up and ran out of the room. Tony’s eyes widened as Y/N darted through the door. 

“Nice going, Tony. You upset her.” Natasha’s glared at Tony, angry. But inside she couldn’t help but wonder if she ran because she didn’t want to kiss her. Maybe she hated the idea. Maybe she didn’t like women after all. Nat got up, she had to face this. “I’ll go get her” She dragged her hand over her face and got up. Tony and Steve exchanged a glance as she left, hopefully this wouldn’t blow up in their faces

~

“Y/N!” Nat yelled down the hall, “It’s me, I’m sorry Tony was a jerk. Can we talk?”

Y/N heard Natasha’s voice and faltered, she had to face this at some point. She took a deep breath, letting the cool confidence she had on missions fill her. 

“Yeah, I’m here Nat” She called back and within seconds Nat ran around the corner. Nat’s eyes softened as they looked into Y/N’s beautiful eyes, still just as mesmerizing, puffy and red. Nat took an unconscious step forward, her thumbs caressing the hidden tear streaks. Y/N’s breath caught, her heart flipping at Nat’s touch. Before she could think about it, Y/N leaned up and let her lips meet Nat’s. Nat responded immediately, pulling Y/N to her, wrapping her arms around her, teeth tugging at her bottom lip. Y/N groaned into the kiss, letting her fingers card through Nat’s hair. They pulled away after a minute, smiling like idiots. Y/N looked down slowly before glancing back up shyly at Nat. 

“Um... I really like you Nat” She whispered, with a smile

“I really like you too Y/N” Nat chuckled, pulling her in again for a sweet, soft kiss. It said everything they hadn’t said. All the nights of longing, the confusion and the love. 

Tony, Steve and the rest of the team watched from the security room, smiling and high fiving at the happy couple. 

AHHH I HOPE YOU LIKED IT!! feedback is always appreciated!!

tagging: @iamninaanna (to be tagged when i write something just drop me an ask)

[phantomwarrior12]

Hanging On

He's a Warlord. He's perfected the art of combat throughout countless centuries. He has crushed opponents on the field of combat and within the arenas of the Crucible. He is a force to be reckoned with - that he can say with absolute certainty - but this? This is not combat.

It had been...at the beginning. They were sparring; the battle was rapid and calculated and fearsome but then - then her demeanor shifted. She'd started to dance away from every blow with a lightness to her step he never saw on the battlefield but rather, in the Tower after a well-executed prank on Lord Saladin. The kind of step that was a playful and, dare he suggest, mischievous. It was only a matter of time before she'd found a way to slip past him and then found a way onto his back despite his best efforts. Now she's wrapped around him like some sort of koala. Her arms locked around his neck, her legs crossed - albeit just barely - around his ribs.

This isn't sparring anymore.

If the Warlord had wanted to, he could have escaped the instant she'd locked her arms around his neck. He could find the closest wall and crush the substantially smaller Hunter between his spine and the stone until her grip falters or simply drag her over his shoulder by her hood. Or even break the feeble grip her legs have to cause a loss of leverage. The Crucible doesn't know the concept of mercy nor does its handler on any other occasion, and yet, something stops him.

Perhaps it's the subtle clink of her helmet against his each time he twists or reaches for her, or the soft laugh he'd heard the instant he'd reacted to her newfound perch.

It's been so long since he's heard her laugh.

"Guardian?"

He feels her shift, rest her chin as best she can on his shoulder. He's come to recognize it as her way of letting him know that he has her full attention.

"What are you doing?"

She squeezes him lightly with her legs. No doubt her idea of a playful gesture and it takes all he has not to laugh.

"We're supposed to be sparring."

You are. She has you in a hold you haven't been able to escape yet. Her Ghost supplies helpfully.

The Young Wolf gives him another squeeze and his heart soars. He tosses a glance toward the score and realizes, for once, the score is close and what's more, its low. She's spent more time messing around than actually sparring and after the hellish few weeks she's had - one mission after another that robbed her of the energy to spare for a match - Lord Shaxx isn't certain pushing this as an actual competition is a good idea.

Instead, his hand settles over the clasped hands around his neck and squeezes affectionately.

"Perhaps it's wisest to forfeit this match then as I doubt I'll be capable of breaking such a vice grip."

There it is. Another soft laugh before she nuzzles into the wrap along the side of his neck.

Undoubtedly. Ghost returns on her behalf.

"Arcite, call the match...yes, I'm aware she has advantage. No, just mark it off as a victory for her."

She clinks her helmet against his once again as a thank you and he chuckles softly.

"You're welcome, my little Hunter." He turns his head toward her slightly, "Clearly, this is the most decisive victory you've ever had."

She snorts softly, slowly starting to unlock her legs around his ribs but his grip on her hands doesn't loosen to allow her the short drop to the ground.

"Where do you think you're going?"

The match is over. Her Ghost voices her confusion.

"This match, yes. But I believe we have one to attend to in private."

He feels the tension surge along her frame, back straightening slightly as her thoughts no doubt race in time with her heartbeat. Her fingers fidget beneath his, uncertain yet awkward and he gives them a gentle squeeze.

Private match?  Ghost questions cautiously.

"Of course," he turns his head slightly to look at her, "Nothing we haven't done before, Guardian."

Her eyes have widened, of that he is certain. She tries to pry one hand from beneath his, likely to swat at him, but he tightens his hold until she resigns her efforts and squeezes him pointedly. She's flustered, perhaps embarrassed in a way by his boldness, but he'll call it revenge for the thrown matches.

Of course, he can't drag this out too long. His goal was to tease, not antagonize, after all. He supposes now is as good a time as any to let her off the hook of his joke.

"It involves a prolonged period of my bear-hold restraint." He says at last, making no effort to conceal the smug undertone in his voice.

She slouches forward with a sigh of relief and the Warlord can't quite contain his laughter.

So, cuddling. Ghost sighs.

"Bear-hold restraint," the Warlord reiterates, feigning sternness. "I believe it's an adequate counter to your koala grip, Guardian."

She tightens her hold around his neck, squeezing armored ribs with her legs in tandem as if to emphasize his point. She couldn't do any real damage to him in this position unless she activated her super. Still, he chuckles softly as he carries her like a backpack toward the portal out of the training arena, arms locked around her thighs.

He can feel her rest her head against his shoulder, all four appendages relaxing as much as they can without sending her tumbling onto her ass as they approach the portal.

"Don't fall asleep just yet, my little Hunter. I can't very well catch you if you fall."

She nods against his shoulder before lifting her head just as they step through the portal. He begins the trek toward their shared quarters, acutely aware of her nodding off against him. He leans forward a bit more, her frame slouching against his back as her arms fall to her sides.

"Seems you were tired after all," the Titan remarks softly. He finds the nearest crate, gingerly kneeling down to set her on top of it, keeping one hand clamped around her arm as he gets up and turns to face her. It only takes a moment to pick her up again and carry her to the room.

With the door closed, he moves toward the bed, "Ghost, some assistance, please."

Of course. He transmats her armor away, swiftly replacing it with a hoodie and shorts as the Titan lays her on the mattress. "Thank you." He says softly as he leans down, lifting her helmet off and sets it on the dresser beside their bed. She's sound asleep, how she'd even managed to summon the energy for the match, he isn't sure.

As he straightens up, he signals his own Ghost to remove his armor as he makes his way around the bed and sets his helmet on the bedside table before sliding in beside her. As he tugs the blankets up, she snuggles up against his chest, forcing him to pause until she settles. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as his arms wind around her smaller frame and he presses a soft kiss into her hair.

There will be time enough for combat tomorrow. For now, he'll hold her, just as he always has and always will.

Sleep well, Guardian.

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

Taglist are open! Send an ask/leave a comment to be added!

Forevers: @halo-2 @reaped-winnower @genken64 @sugarcoated44 @cayde-6 Shaxx's Guardians: @ataraxia101 @squirrel-stars @rain-wolfe

[punkpresentmic]

Traitor Aizawa AU Pt 8 — 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

It’s an otherwise unmemorable patrol for Shouta, the streets almost entirely empty at this hour. When he notices the shadows of the alleyway shift in the corner of his eye, he can't be certain it isn't a figment of his imagination.

He stares into the inky blackness for a long while, paused at its edge with a hand on his capture weapon.

The flick of a lighter announces the man’s presence, illuminating a face not unfamiliar to Shouta. Giran smiles as he lights his cigarette. "Evening, Eraserhead—have you got a minute?"

His reputation precedes him. Giran’s involved in the worst sorts of deals, a broker for villains & criminals of every caliber. If he’s here, it’s trouble. It’s exactly why Shouta approaches; this is his route to protect. "What are you doing here?"

Giran takes his time answering, rolling well-scripted words around his tongue as he takes a drag of his cigarette & blows a slow cloud of smoke that disappears into the nearest streetlight. "My client wanted me to have a word with you. To get your thoughts on a couple business matters."

"I have no business with the likes of you. What do you want."

"I see we’re not sugar-coating things here. Alright, then." He flicks ash onto the pavement. "My client has intel regarding the incident that killed Shirakumo Oboro."

The air is stolen from Shouta’s lungs, & for one hysterical moment he thinks it’s an attack from a Quirk. He gathers himself, shows nothing but a scowl on his face.

Giran continues, "This info is deep & dirty, implicates all sorts of characters. But my client is willing to make a trade: a morsel of info for a morsel of info. You drop off your package, my client drops off theirs. I’ll see to that; I have a reputation to uphold, you know." He smiles. "Customer satisfaction & all that."

Shouta crosses his arms, hiding how his nails bite into his fists as his heart thuds. "What does your boss want to know." He makes his tone bored, disinterested.

"Simple, really: a schedule of UA training exercises. & remember, hero: incorrect information only gets you incorrect information in return."

Disgust rolls through him. "Why is your client interested in that?"

Giran shrugs. "Beats me!" He laughs.

“Okay. Why would I ever give criminal scum like you information like that," he scoffs. It’s not a question, even as... troubling... as this exchange has been. He’ll have to report the strange & cruel ruse.

“Because you want to know what really happened to your old pal Oboro, of course." Shouta’s body locks up to even hear the name, let alone tossed around so casually. The weight of what Giran’s saying truly hits him then—intel regarding the incident, implicates all sorts of characters, what really happened. Giran sees this & grins around his cigarette. "What? It’s just a schedule," he drawls. "Even if my client wished a class of highschoolers any harm, do you not have faith in yourself & UA to protect them? You have All Might on staff now, for god’s sake."

Shouta hesitates. It’s enough of a betrayal in itself.

"& after we get you everything you need to know, you can tell your boss. We don’t ask for your permanent silence; it’s just that for now the matter is... delicate." He taps the ash from the tip of his cigarette, shaking his head. "It’s filthy business, really—like I said, it involves lots of types who’d rather it be kept quiet." A wink, then. "& it’s not like we’re asking a lot from you either—it’s a steal, if you ask me."

Implication of people ‘who’d rather it be kept quiet?’ On the subject of... him?

The trade is simple enough, so long as he can guarantee his students‘ safety. & he’s naïve, in his vulnerable state, & fiercely believes he WILL protect them. & he WILL get Oboro the justice he deserves.

Shouta makes the trade a day later, a sick feeling to his stomach. On the schedule: the location for USJ.

Shouta becomes responsible for nearly getting his students, the Symbol of Peace, & himself killed. & it’s abundantly clear he’s made a deal with the devil—Giran’s 'client' doubtlessly being the League of Villains themselves. Ultimately, the League failed, but they were close. Too close. & the weight of it is on Shouta’s shoulders.

At the very least, it leads to the capture of one of their strongest weapons, the Nomu, which is, repulsively, determined to have once been human. A human modified beyond recognition.

Giran has some nerve calling after this. Shouta answers his phone with a vengeance. Giran opens with poison praise: "See, I told you you could do it!"

The rage & pain of USJ comes to a boil under Shouta’s skin, least of all the fact that it was for nothing. "You told me nothing about Oboro," Shouta hisses despite himself, the words spilling unbidden from traitorous, unheroic lips.

“Oh, I do believe we did, hero. Your investigators aren't completely incompetent at digging out some answers. But here’s an extra bonus for your trouble: Shirakumo Oboro is alive. He was taken after the incident reported to have killed him." He gives it a beat to sink in as Shouta sputters. “We’ll be in touch."

Giran ends the call.

Shouta doesn’t tell anyone about the contact, about his role in what happened. His end of the deal was silence. Temporary silence. He’ll confess. To all of it. But he needs time. He needs to know they’re lying. Or worse... that they’re not.

& Giran does contact him again, in person, directly before the students’ summer training camp. Shouta knows exactly what they’re after coming to him now of all times. He doesn’t let Giran get a word in; he’s not giving them any more information, vehemently refusing to hear anything out despite Giran’s silver-tongued talk about his friend, no matter how much it rips him up inside. Lies, they’re all lies. He’ll turn himself in for what he’s done & detail what he’s learned. But no one will lay another hand on his students.

Giran sighs, holds up his hands at Shouta’s glowing eyes & floating capture weapon. “Alright, alright, you’ve made your point, Eraser. Sorry to bother you, but don’t shoot the messenger, okay?" Giran breathes a little easier when Shouta blinks, stepping toward the door. "& since I’m such a good little messenger, I can tell you this much: You might want to check up on your students at the mall."

Shouta runs for it. He’s too late. Police cars surround the building by the time he gets there.

The camp location is moved. Everything is top secret.

But it doesn’t change anything. Shouta doesn’t know until the hospital that Giran used that meeting to track his phone.

& now Bakugou has been kidnapped. If anything were to happen to him...

It’s his fault. His lapse in judgment did this, his actions did this, his silence did this.

He calls Giran while his students are in the hospital & one of them is captured. "You took my kid," he growls into the phone. "I’ll rip you apart."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa there, Eraser! I had no part in that. I never get my hands dirty—"

"—Save it for someone who cares. I don’t have time for this. Contact your—your client. I want to make another trade."

Giran is silent on the end for a long minute & then, "I’ll see what I can do."

Giran calls back shortly after, saying they can make an arrangement, "But this one is a little more... slippery than our previous offers. There’s lots of pieces on the board, you must understand. I was told to ask you the following: what do you think you can offer my clients? Just so that both sides can get an understanding of each other."

"Anything," he snarls. “Bakugou is a child; I’m—we’re—not bargaining with his life."

Giran hums, interested. "I’m sure my clients will be interested in hearing that. Shall we arrange a meeting to discuss terms? Say... a few hours? Same place as our last rendezvous?"

& Shouta fully readies himself to give up anything—that’s his kid. They’ll understand, he tells himself. They’ll understand.

But then Momo arrives with that tracker. He’s shaking as he calls to cancel the meeting with Giran, but his voice is steady. He has a conference, he tells him. They’ll have to postpone it until afterward.

Hizashi bursts into the room shortly after he makes the call, worried sick. Hizashi gets him in a tight hug, crushing his soul back into his body as Shouta trembles with what he almost did, with how Momo probably saved him too with that move. Already heroes & they don’t even realize it. Hizashi whispers about how Shouta did everything he could, how it’ll be okay, how they’ll get him back. Hizashi kisses his head, then, & apologizes for being late. He cracks a wry joke about how he’s glad he got here before Shouta could do something stupid.

Shouta buries his head in his husband’s chest. Hizashi’s smile fades. They both know how more truth rings in that statement than Shouta wants to talk about. Hizashi clings to him fiercely. Together, it says. We’ll get through this together.

Of course, then Hizashi announces the obvious to the gathered team of heroes on the case: that there’s a traitor in their midst.

Hizashi kisses the traitor good luck before his press conference.

The events of Kamino Ward unfold, terrifying & devastating in their consequences.

Shouta receives Giran’s call before the dust is even settled. They've lost the Symbol of Peace. The League has vanished. “WELL Eraserhead, that’s what we in the business call a double-crossing."

"Consider it payback for endangering my students."

Giran’s voice is cold, impersonal, empty of its usual snake’s charm, "I think you’ve done that all on your own, Eraser."

Shouta hangs up the phone. This isn't the end of their entanglement & he knows it.

(pt. 9)