#last time i tagged buddie i had the ferals coming at me immediately

[shoutogepi]

Spring Pollen

Takami Keigo

word count : 5.0k

[ ✘ (nsfw 18+) ]  

genre : edging, gagging (glove use), sex pollen, public sex

bio: You and your coworker Hawks are caught off guard by a villain’s naughty quirk while on the middle of patrol.

author’s note : this is for bnha bookclub’s bingo event, for which i can now cross off the “sex pollen” slot ;) also pls go soft on me if this is rough as it’s my first hawks fic <3 TT

tags : @hawks-senseis​ @queensynderella​ @knifeewifee​ @prismaroyal​

also available on AO3 here

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

Working beside the number two hero had its ups and downs. For one, you were insanely attracted to him, and you absolutely refused to admit it— to him, yourself, really anyone who asked. Not that it came up in conversation often, of course. You made sure of that.

The blonde was known for his go-with-the-flow, playful attitude, and you were not discluded from such a privilege, despite your many complaints. Deep down, you didn’t really mind his flirtatious behavior. Being a hero, even if you were only a sidekick at the moment, was tiring work. You did not have much time for yourself, let alone time to find men who you could flirt with or even go on dates with. Or even find a fuck buddy. 

God, it had been so long since you last received affection from a man. Work was your entire life now, and while you found comfort in knowing you were changing the world for the better— cleaning away the stain of evil on your city— you found yourself feeling lonely when you would return to your empty apartment each night.

So perhaps Hawks’ borderline suggestive comments were nice, welcome even. Not that you would ever tell him that. You would rather die than live with knowing he was privy to your thoughts; the mortification would simply be too much for you.

Little did you know, there was much desire and intention behind his seemingly meaningless flirting— for he, too, found you more than attractive. A walking, talking, gorgeous and independent woman who apparently wanted nothing to do with him— you were more than enough to catch his eye. But alas, you were years younger than the already-youthful hero himself, and you made it very clear to him that you did not want to do anything that could jeopardize your career at the agency the two of you were slaves to.

So the attraction went unspoken between the pair of you. Hawks would make a comment just a little too cheeky and you would roll your eyes or swat at him, and that would be the end of it. It would go on and on like this for months, and before you knew it, it had been almost a year of supporting the ever-popular winged hero. And everything was fine and good…

Until the red string on fate had to show its ugly face. And everything as you knew it was turned upside down on the head— the tall, prison-like walls you’d constructed to keep your feelings locked away all came tumbling down, right before your very eyes.

It had been a rather uneventful day of hero work, if you could recall correctly. Hawks had commented on your winged eyeliner that morning, saying how it made your eyes sparkle and give you an “avian edge”, which he found highly commendable. You had brushed him off, as usual, and the two of you had taken off to start your patrol, much like any other morning.

The sun was high in the sky, hanging cheerfully over the skyscrapers of the bustling city. The spring heat had not yet scorched the asphalt of the winding roads, a cool breeze tickling your skin as you walked beside the blonde hero. His large, scarlet wings were relaxed behind his shoulder blades, the very tips of his feathers brushing against your waist as you were pressed close to him on the busy sidewalk. It was all rather ordinary, looking back at it— you had just thrown away the wrappings from your on-the-go breakfast, feeling strengthened enough to take on whatever the day could possibly throw at you, when she appeared from what seemed like nowhere.

Hawks sprang into action immediately, recognizing the wicked glint in her eye much sooner than you. You were on a dull sideroad, almost an alleyway to be honest— a small street tucked away in the midst of the hasty city, sandwiched behind a few large buildings and the backs of restaurants. It was really the perfect place for a crime to occur, for there were few passerbys and no security cameras.

In just an instant, the number two hero was on his ass, nearly hacking up a lung as the offender sprayed a noxious cloud of pink spores directly into his face. The woman sported a vicious grin as she turned to you, and though Hawks tried his best to warn you of her attack, he found he could not speak— instead crumpling over to hold his stomach as his body seized with violent coughs. Just like that, you had fallen victim to her as well, your knees folding beneath you as your mind clouded over in a haze. You didn’t even register Hawks throwing her into the brick wall behind you, your brian too foggy to recognize anything before you. He was struggling to cuff the woman when he first began to sweat, his body beginning to tremble first in his chest, then spreading to his limbs and rushing into his veins, like the venom from a deadly serpent.

Your body felt hot— god, so hot— it was like liquid fire had been poured into your bloodstream, every cell of your body igniting into an all-consuming inferno. Sweat began to bead along your temple, the valley between your breasts, and the backs of your knees. You slumped onto the concrete beneath you, clammy palms scraping the rough pavement as you gasped for breath. But with each intake the symptoms only seemed to worsen, limbs growing weak and an intense pressure forming in your stomach, like an intruder attempting to burst through a barricaded door.

Hawks was busy fighting his own internal battle— the same feelings bubbling up inside of him as he clicked the quirk-canceling cuffs onto the assailant’s wrists, perhaps a notch or two too tight. He could feel himself coming to life underneath his trousers, fanning the growing fire in the pit of his stomach. “What did you do to us?” he bellowed, a mix between a groan and a growl. The tip of a ruby feather pointed itself at the base of her throat, a slight tremor shaking through the quill as his knees began to tremble.

The woman only laughed, amused by his blatant discomfort. Her eyes traveled over to your figure, curled into a tight ball on the ground. Hawks followed her gaze, distress panging through him as he realized the pained expression twisting your face.

“Reverse it,” he snarled, fists seizing the front of her shirt and pulling her body to sit upright.

But the villain only smirked, her busted lip not seeming to bother her as her eyes twinkled with malice. “Sorry, can’t do that,” she chuckled, though it came out sounding more like a wheeze, “no takesies-backsies.”

Hawks bared his teeth at her, his ferality getting the better of him as he slammed her against the brick wall another time. Her eyes fell closed and her body went limp, signalling she was out of commission for at least the time being.

“Damn it,” he groaned as her clothes slipped from his fingers, the digits opting to push into his wild tawny locks instead. Whatever quirk this woman had used on him was working too fast, and its effects were too strong. His cock was rock hard, straining against the confining material of his pants, and his body was becoming much too strung out from restraining his amplifying desire.

Chills rolled down his spine as you called out to him, your voice breathy and rough. His gloved hands clamped into fists as he shut his eyes, praying to whatever god there was to lend him the strength necessary to keep himself from tackling you and ripping off your clothes. He had never felt so desperate for you before— never had he needed to touch and taste every inch of you like he did right now. Whatever longing he had harbored for you before this morning was nothing in comparison to the emotions clobbering his sense of self-control at the moment— god, if you even called out for him one more time, he wasn’t sure he could stop himself from taking you, right here and now.

Little did he know, that was the one thing you wanted— needed, even— more than anything.

Your arms were crossed atop your chest, your knees tucking in to bend in front of them as you literally held yourself together. You could feel yourself leaking from between your legs, pussy twitching and itchy for any kind of attention you could get. “P-Please, Keigo,” you whimpered, your hands slowly trailing down your biceps, a palm clutching your own breast, thumb rubbing over the stiff nipple that stood out from beneath your hero suit.

Hawks couldn’t stand still for another second— the sound of his name from your lips too arousing, too intimate— he was on his knees before you in a flash. Both of you moaned as his lips slotted over yours, not a moment to spare as your body unfurled and wrapped around his frame, pulling him flush against yourself. His tongue pushed into your mouth, the tip twirling with yours and gliding against the back of your teeth.

Lost in the pleasure of his mouth on yours, your hands wandered over his shoulders, his chest, one taking root in his silky, fine hair. You could smell his aftershave wafting off his cheeks, the stubble on his chin tickling you as he began to kiss and nip at your jaw. He was insatiable, and so were you— your hands groping and wandering all over each other. Neither of you could get enough. 

You couldn’t believe that this was really happening, in the middle of this secluded, public alleyway, during your patrol as heroes— figures that the citizens of your city looked up to, no less. Yet you couldn’t find a shit to give, and Hawks had abandoned all sense of rationality the moment you dared to cry out for him. He didn’t seem to mind the public setting, for he didn’t harbor a shred of hesitance as he swatted your hand away from your chest. His own palm squeezed your breast as he suckled on your throat, making his first of many marks that would grace your skin.

It wasn’t long before he had you against the brick wall, your body snug between his firm torso and the roughness of the bricks at your back. His face trailed further south, his absence at your neck leaving your saliva-covered skin to prickle with cold. But you weren’t left pining for more long— his teeth gripping onto your nipple through your shirt, kissing and sucking at your covered chest as his hands careened down your waist, cupping your ass and lifting you off your feet just enough for your toes to drag across the pavement.

Your heart leapt into your throat as Hawks sunk to his knees, folding your legs over his shoulders and pressing his face into the apex between your thighs. His strong arms flexed as he held you up against the wall, your legs twitching as he pressed a line of kisses into your skin. Somehow you managed to wriggle out of your bottoms, your soaked panties now on full display for the winged hero, who only groaned at the sight before his tongue began to lather at the front of the material, right over your aching slit.

You felt itchy, itchier than you’d ever been before, your cunt pulsing and squeezing around nothing as you tried to wiggle your hips closer to his mouth. “H-Hawks,” you gasped as his teeth pinched the cloth, pulling it back and letting go, just to watch it snap against your drooling center.

“No, no, little bird,” he murmured sinisterly, taking a second to rub his nose along your slit, smirking at the clearly visible line of wetness that had soaked through the material. The teasing was torture, your body screaming for him to touch you again, for even more this time.

You cut him off, too impatient for his games. “Please touch me,” you begged, breath ragged in your chest.

Golden eyes turned to slits as he grit his teeth, fighting himself not to just whip out his cock and thrust into you right then and there. “If you’re gonna beg, do it properly. I wanna hear my name, dove.”

You couldn’t handle another second of agony; everything felt like it was on fire, every inch of you ready to be used, destroyed at his disposal. “Please fuck me— I— please Keigo, I need you so bad, I can’t stand it anymore!”

Hawks grinned as he ripped your panties off your body, the splitting of the seams shocking you into looking down at him. If anything, the ferocious action only turned you on even more than before, and you screamed out as his tongue immediately wove into your tight little hole. Your entire body shook as his hot muscle slithered in and out of you, alternating between tracing your entrance and rubbing against your slick, gummy walls.

There was nothing you could do but bask in the euphoria he was giving you, your jaw falling open as his tongue retracted and he wrapped his lips around your clit instead. Your eyes slammed shut, moans escaping you as your fingers delved into those bronze locks, fisting them as you ground against his face. His chin rubbed against your weeping entrance, and Hawks found himself wishing he had two tongues, so he could lap up the delicious slick that poured out of your gushing hole.

But it stopped all too soon, a sob choking out of you when he stopped satiating you with his mouth. His hand guided one of your thighs off his shoulder, placing your foot on the pavement and giving your shaking limb an encouraging squeeze before he took his hand away. His slanted eyes locked with yours as he brought his hand to his mouth, teeth securing the edge of his glove and ripping the accessory off, revealing his long, slender fingers to your lustful gaze. The hero then crumpled the leather into a tight ball, extending his arm up to your face and pressing it against your lips.

“Can’t have my dove making too much noise now, can I?” he mumbled, a feathered brow quirking up to give him a classic, mischievous look. “Too noisy and we’ll have to cut our fun short.”

At that you shyly opened your mouth, allowing him to press the glove past your lips. Once it was secure, his thumb brushed over your cheek as he grinned, his fingers then sliding down to pinch at your nipples. You moaned at the sensation, the leather glove in your mouth muffling the noise almost completely.

Hawks’ smile only broadened at that, leaning forward to take your clit into his mouth again. Your hips bucked against him, the thigh over his shoulder curling tighter and pressing him closer to you. It felt good— so incredibly good to have his tongue entertaining your pearl of nerves, lathering and swirling it, even using his teeth to graze against it. Your head fell back onto the wall behind you, eyelids fluttering shut as his fingers around your leg dug into your flesh, his other hand squishing at your chest before trailing down your waist, then down your thigh.

Suddenly his fingers were toying with your entrance, your slick stringing as he spread his fingers, golden gaze eagerly drinking up the sight of your arousal. Oh, how he’d longed for the day he could finally do this to his sweet little sidekick— to be able to lick and kiss and nip at your most sensitive parts, only to hear you moan and whine his name, gasping for more. It was even better that his glove was shoved into your mouth, muting your saccharine voice just enough so that no one else could hear you— your noises of pleasure were his and only his to hear, to soak up, and indulge in.

You cried out as two digits slipped inside of you, your wetness never having been so overt in your life. The extra slick dripped down the tops of your thighs, your pussy shamelessly slobbering for the man currently knelt between your legs. Your velvet walls sucked his fingers deeper inside, milking them as your cunt clenched uncontrollably, his tongue relentlessly lashing against your swollen clit. Hawks’ fingers pumped into you steadily, sheathing and pulling out just the first two knuckles into your waiting hole time and time again. The movements initially were slow, as if testing the waters. But after a few exploratory thrusts, he pushed the digits inside of you as far as he could, curling them toward himself and prodding your spongy walls.

He wouldn’t stop, he couldn’t stop— you tasted too damn delicious, and his cock was leaking into his briefs at the premise of being inside you, your stifled sounds only adding fuel to the fire in his stomach. Your body was beginning to show signs of near-orgasm, and it only made him more excited to see you so reactive for him. Your eyes were shut tight, fingers pulling on his golden tresses so tightly he could feel his mind practically spinning. And your legs were trembling, almost so badly that he wondered if you were going to collapse on top of him at any moment.

You whimpered as his hand switched angles, the very tips of his fingers rubbing right against the most sensitive spot inside of you. Hawks noticed your body twitch, even though you tried your best to keep your reaction a secret to him, ashamed to already be so close to cumming. But the winged hero was feeling anything but shame— pressing his fingers into that spot again and again, savoring how your cries became louder underneath his glove in your mouth, your limbs quivering against his skin. You tried to warn him, your thigh squeezing tight around his shoulder, your fingers lacing even tighter into his hair, spine stiffening.

Hawks seemed to know what was coming, for his fingers began flicking back and forth inside of you, stimulating that soft, spongy spot that made stars blur at the corners of your vision. Your toes curled tight inside your boots, tears pooling between your eyelashes, your body feeling as though it was trapped inside an elevator surging toward the thousandth floor of a skyscraper. The tension was building, building, oh it was so close— you could practically see the heavenly, orgasmic light shining just before you, and then—

He pulled back.

Had his glove not been occupying your mouth, your whine of anguish would have echoed off the stone walls of the alleyway, your body slumping into his arms in complete dejection. Your brows were furrowed in torment, wondering how in the world Hawks had the strength to pull away from you when you were in such a state— you were practically imploring for his attention, body so hot and willing that you’d let him do anything he could possibly want to you.

You were too lost mourning the lost orgasm to notice Hawks haphazardly shoving his pants down, pulling his black, tight shirt halfway up his abs. His cock sprang up from its confines, his eyes just slits as he focused his gaze on your dripping cunt, still twitching in misery from his teasing torture. You only realized you were being maneuvered once it was too late— he had dropped the leg that had previously rested on his shoulder, instead taking the other and pushing it to press up against the wall, his fingers digging into your thigh. He was upright now, teeth taking the tip of your ear hostage as he rutted his heavy cock against your saturated slit.

Fresh waves of lust rippled through your body, your bones turning cold with white-hot anticipation. You could feel everything— his member sliding against your entrance, gliding against you from head to base, even the veins decorating his shaft as they brushed against your aching core.

Hawks’ breath was heavy in your ear, but that only made you want him more. It was the only physical sign that he was just as affected as you; the soft groan falling from his lips as you bucked against him was proof enough of that. Yet somehow he staved off from thrusting into you, despite your pussy coating his whole length in your slippery love syrup.

You tried to complain, but the glove between your lips jumbled any words into a muted mess.

He seemed to be amused by your efforts, his honey gaze seizing yours. “If I take that out for you, do you promise you’ll be a good little dove for me? Can’t have you singing too loud, alright?” His words were music to your ears, and you quickly nodded your head, eager to prove yourself to him. But he didn’t move a muscle; only his tongue wandered out to swipe across his bottom lip, which then disappeared between his teeth. His eyes darted south, and before yours could follow suit, he pushed inside you to the hilt.

You screamed as he forced your elastic walls to stretch around him, the thickness of his cock taking you by surprise. Intense pleasure burst into your body as he pulled out halfway, sheathing himself back inside almost immediately. Hawks’ eyes were shut tight, savoring the way your cunt hugged him so perfectly. Already you were milking him, and he knew there was no way he could last.

It didn’t matter, really, because the instant his hand slid down your pelvis and his fingers began to toy with your clit, you were gone. Instantly that intense pressure built just like it had before, for a split second it was all you could feel. And then you were crashing through your orgasm, his name the only thing on your brain. You called it out again and again, ecstasy zipping through your veins and toward the intense heat that the villain’s quirk had produced. The sensations clashed in a fiery explosion, your entire body straining as you did your best to handle the pleasure, your pussy wringing tight around Hawks’ cock.

Hawks gasped, his head falling to your shoulder at the intensity— at the snugness of your cunt like a vice around him, at the sound of your muffled cries for him, at the way your body trembled in his hands. He didn’t wait long, though, for after the initial shock of your orgasm arriving, his hips began to ruthlessly smack against yours. His grip was now tight on your body, fingernails digging little crescents into the skin of your thigh and your asscheek, which he pulled back to slide himself even deeper inside of you.

Your head smacked against the brick as it fell backwards, the pleasure flowing endlessly through your entire body. It was only then that Hawks bothered to take his glove from between your lips, and you immediately gasped for the sweet rush of air that filled your mouth. Small noises of content slithered out of you with every crash of his hips against you, impossible for you to silence the constant “hah” and “yes”’es. Not that Hawks seemed to really mind— in fact, he was eating up every sweet noise that left your throat, cherishing the cute, dazed look on your face as he pummeled your tight little cunt with his fat cock.

It was wrong to be this attracted to his sidekick, he knew. But maybe that was why it felt so fucking good, too— the forbidden, unspoken attraction that hung between the pair of you like a heavy shadow whenever you were together. The line had been crossed, and god, was the grass greener on the other side. If this was what being with you felt like, he didn’t want to go back. He couldn’t— he’d tasted your sweet ambrosia and he could never push you away again. You were pouring life into him as you took his cock so perfectly, and he could feel nothing but euphoria as he slammed your cunt onto himself again and again.

His release was building, but goddamn it, he was gonna hold out for as long as he could. He was gonna make you feel as good as he possibly could, and hopefully it was something that could mirror the intense bliss that you were giving him. From the way your irises rolled back in your skull, your nails gripping into his muscles tightly as your jaw hung ajar, his name slipping through your lips every other thrust— he guessed he was doing a pretty good job.

Meanwhile your brain was nearly liquefying in your skull, the aftershocks of your orgasm still stinging your bones with pleasure. Hawks never let you come down from your high, and he was doing a damn good job at keeping you on cloud nine— his hand holding up your thigh so he had a better angle to continue drilling into that sweet, springy spot inside of you. His wings began to flutter and stretch behind him, flapping gently with each swing of his hips. It felt so good that you could barely keep yourself from screaming for him, from letting the entire city know that it was him who was fucking you so good.

“K-Keigo,” you choked, a tear sliding down your cheek. Hawks moaned at the sound of his name on your voice, leaning forward to lick up the saline bead before he pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth, a shocking contrast to how hard he was pounding into you just a short distance south. “Feels so— agh! fuck— good, oh my goddd.”

Hawks nipped at your throat, burying his face in your neck as his thrusts became more shallow, his pace beginning to falter. “You like my cock, dove?” he growled, chest heaving as that intense pressure started to build in his stomach. “Your pussy is so fuckin’ wet for me— T-Tight! Hah, shit— s’too fuckin’ good baby.”

You could only moan at his words, cunt clenching down on him on its own accord. Hawks gasped at the feeling, teeth sinking into your throat as the heat of the quirk clashed with the heightened tension in his abdomen. The collision of the two sensations proved to be too much for the winged hero to handle, a groan rumbling his throat as he painted your insides white with ribbons of cum, his wings unfurling and each individual feather quivering in sheer ecstasy. His body shook, muscles taut as he emptied himself into your dripping cunt, arms wrapping tight around your waist as he gasped for breath.

The heat from your bodies began to dwindle, the villain’s quirk exiting your systems and rendering the two of you boneless, breathless, and satisfied like never before. It suddenly dawned on you that you were in the middle of an alleyway, the cool spring breeze touseling Hawks’ blonde hair before your eyes. He was still wrapped around you, trying to catch his breath as his cock continued to throb against your silken walls. The pair of you stood still against the brick wall, the fact that you’d just crossed such a serious line with your closest coworker setting in. There was a sense of dread that began to bloom in your chest, your suppressed feelings for the hero unleashed and thriving, now more than ever.

Before you could overthink for another second, Hawks pulled back, warm golden eyes peering into yours. “I gotta say, dove,” he murmured, a hand coming to cup your jaw and stroke his thumb across your skin, “that was definitely the best quirk I’ve ever been hit with on the job.”

You chuckled at that, the weight of the situation instantly lightening up as you gave him a slow nod of agreement. Your heart began to beat quickly as you gathered the courage to take it a step further than his confession. “I’m glad it was with you,” you replied quietly, meekly averting your gaze to the side.

Hawks hummed, thumbing over your cheek again as a smile rose to his lips. He pressed his mouth to yours again, fingers creeping into your hair as he pulled your face close to his. This kiss was unlike any you shared before, conveying only a sweetness, fondness even— a comforting reciprocation. You smiled against his lips, too, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him back, your fear dissipating as fast as it had come.

“I’m glad, too,” Hawks mumbled between your kisses, pulling away to quirk a brow at you playfully. “Can you imagine if I was with Endeavor instead?” he made the both of you laugh before leaning in to press his lips against yours again, the image of the serious, number one hero and your coworker in such a situation too hilarious not to laugh. But just as you started to deepen the kiss, he couldn’t resist throwing in the punchline he’d set up.

“I’d be a damn rotisserie chicken by now.”

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

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sdfghj i never know how to end these and also why do i use this many dashes i am sORRY  if you enjoyed pls make sure to lemme know~~ 💕

➥ masterlist

➥ BINGO masterlist

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Drinking Buddies (standalone)

Summary:  Stretch and Edge get along great from the very start.

Tags:  Pre-spicyhoney, Enemies to Lovers, Arguments, Underswap isn’t as kind as Edge likes to think. 

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Edge resisted the urge to slam the door behind him as he stepped out into the icy cool of Underswap’s Snowdin. He took a deep breath, held it, counting slowly as he let it back out. A breathing technique he’d learned from a soggy magazine found at the dump that he’d studied diligently despite his brother’s mocking.

It worked, a little. His temper, once on the verge of boiling over, settled down to a low simmer. Not at all how he’d wanted to spend his evening. Visits to the other universes were supposed to be a way for him to leave behind the stresses of his own world and instead, tonight it only doubled it, trebled.

Stretch had been in a bad mood from the moment he and Red arrived. The very first words out of his mouth, “nice of you to show up, edgelord, how long did it take you to shake the dust out of that pretty scarf of yours?”

They only got worse as the night went on. Those little insults of his dug in deeper than they should, his petty cruelties usually disguised as idle observations twisting into Edge’s restless soul until the iron control he usually had over his frustrations rusted over and snapped. He’d grabbed Stretch by the front of his sweatshirt, hauling him up from the sofa despite the startled cries of others.

Stretch only smirked, hanging in his grip as he said, softly, “you wanna hit me? go ahead. just remember, you can only do it once.”

That lazy reminder cooled his temper like breaking through ice into the river. One HP, the same as his own brother and Edge allowed Blue to pry his brother free, scolding them both and it was the faint note beneath those words, like a barely stifled sob, that sent Edge outside into the snow.

The artificial light of day was gone, the town cast mostly in darkness except for the Gyftmas lights scattered about. There was a ‘Librarby’ the same as in Underfell and Muffet’s nearby, the brightly lit sign blinking. It was difficult to distinguish how the 'swap' part of Underswap actually worked.

Not that the Monsters who lived here called it that. The term was coined by Papyrus, and at first glance, it seemed accurate enough. Stretch seemed very much like his brother and Red, and Blue similar to Papyrus and himself. Their enthusiasm for being in the guard and cooking, their cheery personalities and distaste for bad puns, while Stretch matching up with his counterparts in laziness and sarcasm.

But the resemblance only seemed surface deep. For one, even his brother usually knew when to shut his mouth, a lesson Stretch certainly never seemed to have learned.

Muffet's was the analog for Grillby's in this world and much as Edge hated coming into any contact with greasy food and equally so company, he needed a drink. If nothing else, it was certain to be safer than his own Grillby's.

Or so he thought and there lay an important lesson his brother taught him from the moment he could summon the smallest bone attack. Assume nothing.

At a glance, the bar was similar. Cleaner, perhaps, less of the furniture broken in LV-fueled disputes. The jukebox was darkened and silent, the patrons less so, snatches of conversation in the air to mingle with the clink of glasses against tabletops.

Behind the counter was Swap's version of Muffet. Intriguing differences, really. His Muffet dressed in frills and lace, paying no mind to the splatters of blood and dust at the hem of her skirts, dappling her ankle socks and slippers. When she dropped the charming illusion of her smile, her true, ravenous nature showed, her maw opened wide to greedily suck the essence of any Monster caught in her webs. He’d seen it once, in a grainy video that his brother ‘liberated’ from Alphys’s storage. At the very end she’d paused, swinging around to look directly at the camera and through the snow of static, the visible madness in her many dark eyes was enough to convince Edge to stay well out of Hotland.

This Muffet only nodded at him politely, her many eyes reflecting the overhead lights. She was nattily dressed in shirtsleeves and a tie, her wiry hair done up in a pair of simple pigtails, and her smile held no horrors, only the raspy offering, "Drink?"

"Do you have tabasco?" Edge asked without much hope.

She only nodded, pouring out a tall glass and topping it with what he hoped was vodka. A celery stalk completed the drink and she pushed it over to him. A wary sip sent a burst of faintly bitter heat deliciously across his tongue, better than any swill he’d had in Underfell.

Absently, he pushed a G coin back across at her and the rumble of conversation around him dwindled to silence. She stared at it as though it might grow fangs and snap at her many fingers.

"My apologies," Edge offered guardedly, "Is that not enough?"

Two stools away, a Monster leaned towards him, their scaly skin and yellowed eyes reminiscent of Undyne and their words were a slurred, whether from drink or a natural inclination, Edge could not say. "Nah, Muffet says its good. Everyone's jus' surprised to see you paying. Usually everything from youse guys goes on Papyrus's tab."

"Of course," Edge muttered. His own brother would delight in racking up drinks on someone else’s tab for a change. "I'd prefer to pay my own way."

Muffet nodded and picked up the coin, dropping it into her vest pocket.

He was most of the way through his drink, the winding tension in his soul slowly loosening, when from behind him came the invasive prickling touch of a Check, followed by, “Huh, look what we have here."

Edge tipped his skull back, draining the last of the tabasco and vodka from his glass before turning around. Three Monsters, their long ears and furry scowling faced placing them firmly in the Bun clan. In his world the Buns were plentiful but meek, often depending on the Snowdin guard to protect them and their homes from those who would hunt them down.

Here in this swapped world, they were flipped around, turned on their end. Tall enough to loom over Edge, their noses the pale white of a fishbelly instead of wriggling pink, their eyes bloodshot and sunken. The tallest leaned in, a sneer fracturing his wide face.

"Nice outfit,” they said. Alcohol was strong on their breath, sharp and foul, “You come in here to raise some dust, LV collector?"

Edge only looked at them coolly. "You act as if any of you would be worth it."

Raucous laughter came from them all, unpleasant and humorless. The tall one spoke again, scornfully, "Trash knows trash, is that it?"

"You don’t know anything about me." It wasn’t likely that Muffet was going to allow fighting in her establishment; in his own world, Grillby would have interceded almost immediately before he could lose any more furniture. True as that may be, Edge wasn’t about to rely on an unknown Monster to have his back and discreetly, he began summoning an attack meant to incapacitate. LV he might have, but he wasn’t—

"I know enough, killer!" The Bun raised a hand, their curled fingers forming a fist nearly the size of Edge’s skull and swinging directly at it.

Before that hand could connect or Edge could deflect it, it stopped entirely, the Bun standing frozen, his soul pulsing an eerie blue.

"hey, guys,” Nearer to the door, a familiar, lazy drawl, “think it’s time to back off.”

The other Buns moved in near unison, turning towards the door and parting enough for Edge to see Stretch standing just inside it. He was lighting a cigarette, a bony hand cupped around the flame.

“Really?” From the second Bun, shorter and thinner, and no less drunk for it. “You gonna stand up for the murderer, Papyrus? Gonna let him kill us all?”

Stretch only chuckled out a smoke-filled breath and tucked his lighter into his pocket. “nah, you know better than that, bunno. we go way back, don’t we?”

“Yeah,” the bun agreed, “yeah, we do.”

“yeaaaaaah,” Stretch drew out the word, slyly, rocking back on his slippered feet. “maybe you don't know me as good as you think. see, problem is, the thing you don’t seem to get—"

Stretch tapped a cylinder of ash on the floor and stuck the cigarette between his teeth, then raised his hand, slim fingers haloed in light. Four blasters rose over his shoulders, their eye lights feral-bright, maws open with the burning threat glowing in their throats. Stretch’s smirk widened, fingers twitching, "he’s not the one you need to worry about, now is he?"

The two Buns were scrambling for the door before Stretch even finished speaking, each struggling to be the first through it. The last taller Bun stood stiffly as Stretch waved his hand carelessly, the blasters dissolving away at the same moment the counter on the blue magic faded.

“now go home,” Stretch said, lightly, “i don’t really wanna make puns about dust bunnies.” One corner of Stretch’s mouth rose, a lopsided smirk. “dust punnies. heh. okay, just that one.”

The tall Bun opened his mouth, hesitated and visibly re-thought whatever he meant to say, then turned on his heel to follow his companions out.

“guess that was a little too hare-raising for ‘em.” Stretch plopped down on the stool next to Edge’s. The moment he did, Muffet plunked a glass ashtray pointedly in front of him and he grimaced, tapping his cigarette in it. “sorry, muff.”

The apology seemed to mollify her, weak as it was, and she set a shot glass in front of him, the contents a rich golden-brown.

Edge waited until Stretch knocked it back, sockets closed as he savored it. “You didn’t need to do that.”

“yeah, i know,” Stretch said. One socket slit open, the pale eye light focused on Edge, glittering with dark amusement. “but i got dibs on being a dick to you.”

Edge couldn’t stop his mouth from twitching in a slight smile. It wasn’t quite an apology, not unless one squinted and turned it on its side. But then, that sort of thing suited Underswap. “So you do.”

“Another drink?” Muffet rasped out.

“yeah, sure,” Stretch pushed the empty shot glass towards her. “keep ‘em coming.”

“Yes,” Edge agreed, softly. He held out his own glass and added, “Put it on his tab.”

-finis-

[franklyshipping]

You Brag A Lot? You Get Got ~ A Markiplier and Jacksepticeye Ego Fanfic

THIS IS ANOTHER LOVELY ANON PROMPT FEATURING ANOTHER BRAND NEW EGO! SO LET'S DO THIS!

TAGGING: @il-lee-nois

Angus let out a happy, if slightly resigned, sigh. Y’know when you have a friend who’s kinda arrogant, and yet it only makes you love them more? That’s how Angus felt about Illinois Iplier. The two had hit it off almost immediately, with Illinois’ exploits as an explorer and Angus’ exploits as an explorer/hunter, they had a lot in common with each other. As time went on, they soon started going on adventures together and soon after that, they became practically inseparable. Which also meant that Angus had no qualms about his forthcoming statement.

‘You’re such an arrogant twit sometimes.’

Illinois snorted into his coffee cup, before setting it aside and reclining back on Angus’ bed with a charming grin; they were having a chill day today, laying side by side on Angus’ bed in pyjama shirts and dark jogging pants.

‘You call it being arrogant, I call it having an awareness and appreciation of one’s accomplishments.’

Angus spluttered and rolled his eyes, giving the explorer a playful shove as he replied.

‘Yeah, but everyone has accomplishments. You doing see everybody going round crowing about their latest Monkey Heaven experience or how they can dodge motion triggered arrows without even looking at them.’

Angus folded his arms at his chest, feigning annoyance, but he couldn’t help but smile when his friend rolled onto his side to face him with a cheeky grin in place.

‘Why Angus, I had no idea you paid so much attention to my achievements-‘

‘Piss ohoff!’

Angus tried to shove him again, but this time Illinois was ready to catch Angus’ wrists with a snicker as he teased.

‘I must say I’m ever so flattered, to have a gentleman such as yourself take notice of me, it really has made my heart go a’flutter….’

Illinois batted his eyelashes down at Angus, who was snorting and giggling at the silliness of it all. Angus ended up letting out a yelp when Illinois snuck a kiss to his forehead, before releasing his wrists with an amused laugh as Angus spluttered.

‘Yohou’re an ass!’

Angus felt himself going pink, any flirting from any source always embarrassed him; even if he was watching it between other people on TV he still got flustered. Illinois sat up on his elbows with a broad smirk, looking over Angus’ embarrassment with great satisfaction.

‘So flirting is another weakness of yours to add to the list-‘

‘Oh shut up! It’s not like you’re without weaknesses, you can’t be! Everyone has something that breaks them!’

Illinois let out a soft laugh and lay back properly on the bed, resting his arms under his head as he drawled with a smug smile.

‘Well I think you’ll find I am the exception to that rule sweetcheeks.’

Angus narrowed his eyes at Illinois. There had to be something, there had to be something that was a weakness for him. Something Illinois wouldn’t have thought of, nothing to do with pain or phobias….something Illinois couldn’t control….a reflex perhaps, maybe at his funny bone? No, that wouldn’t be specific enough for Illinois to count as a weakness….wait. Angus’ eyes widened as his eyes briefly landed on Illinois’ exposed waist. Something Illinois couldn’t control….a reflex….

‘You wanna put that to the test?’

Illinois raised an eyebrow at Angus’ words as he looked to the hunter, and he couldn’t deny that he was curious as to what idea had suddenly gotten the hunter so confident and excited. As ever, Illinois’ curiosity overcame his judgement. He smirked, and shut his eyes as he purred.

‘Go on ahead, do whatever you like, nothing will phase me.’

Oh that arrogant shit so deserved this. Angus grinned to himself, kinda happy that Illinois had shut his eyes, because it meant he really wouldn’t see it coming. However, as much as Angus wanted to dive right into making the guy shriek….he really wanted to see him crumble nice and slowly too. So Angus got up on his knees, focused on Illinois’ exposed strip of waist….and used a single finger to trace back and forth along the skin. Angus was not disappointed. Illinois’ breath immediately hitched, and his entire body tensed….oh this was going to be fun.

‘Alright down there buddy?’

Illinois was so fucked, and he knew he was fucked….but a large part of him was kinda in denial about the fact that he was fucked. He bit down hard on his bottom lip as the urges to hit Angus’ hand away and curl up his body rose within him. Illinois was so ticklish, but he was for some reason under the impression that he could hold out.

‘Yep.’

He replied quickly, keeping his eyes shut in an attempt to look relaxed even though he was anything but. Angus smirked, continuing to use his finger to trace softly and teasingly along Illinois’ waistline as he mused.

‘You sure? You seem a little tense….’

Angus was having so much fun already and he’d barely begun. He withheld a chuckle when he heard Illinois let out the quietest of hisses as he fought to keep still, whilst also fighting to keep his composure and voice steady. The latter of those however, was not achieved quite as perfectly as Illinois hoped.

‘…I assure you….I’m fi-hine….’

Damn his hitching breath. Illinois gritted his teeth as he squeezed his eyes shut tighter, fuck that gentle tickle was so damn maddening! Angus grinned, his voice going light and teasy as he cooed.

‘Oh? Then what’s with that cute little stutter, hmm?’

Illinois gulped, and he felt his face so a bright pink when he suddenly felt two hands slowly push his pj shirt right up to his ribs. Then, there were ten fingers swirling and teasing over his six pack and stomach; Illinois had instant goose-bumps as he developed a shaky smile.

‘That w-was n-….n-nohothihing-fuck.….’

Angus didn’t bother repressing his chuckle now as Illinois cursed under his breath, because no matter how hard he tried now, his soft giggles just kept coming. Honestly, Angus had never seen someone react so adorably. Illinois’ whole torso twitched and trembled at Angus’ light touches, his pink blush coated the apples of his cheeks so perfectly as his giggles tumbled out like the most tender musical notes. Angus teased as he splayed his fingers over his muscles.

‘Oh yeah? So does that mean this twitchy ticklish torso of yours is nothing too?’

Illinois spluttered, bringing one of his hands down to cover his mouth as he shook his head. His eyes were still shut tight, Illinois was under the impression that if he couldn’t see the tickling then he could somehow maybe detach himself from it….yeah no, that definitely wasn’t happening.

‘Shuhuhut ihit! Ihit dohoesn’t cohount ahas a weheakness!’

Angus let out a scoff laugh, and decided to experimentally trace around Illinois’ bellybutton….which made the man let out an adorable squeal. Angus spluttered with a smirk.

‘Oh yeah because that is totally something that’s a strength to use against others! Just face it Illinois, you just caaaan’t handle the tiiiickles…’

Before Illinois could even try to reply to Angus’ sing-song coos, the hunter’s index finger was delving deep into his cavern of an innie navel. That broke Illinois’ dam of denial for real. He bucked and grabbed at Angus’ hands, his eyes flying open as he gave the hunter a pleading look whilst high pitched laughter flew from him.

‘AHAHAHA AHAHANGUS!! STAHAPPIT STAHAHAP!!’

Angus snickered, and hurriedly flopped on top of Illinois so he could carry on the bellybutton onslaught as he purred.

‘I might….if you admit that tickling is your weakness.’

Illinois’ blush was a proper crimson now, and even though he was incredibly flustered, the thought of saying those words aloud was on a whole other level of flusteredness! Illinois shook his head, continuing to try and push at Angus as his grin got even wider out of embarrassment.

‘HEHEHELL NOHO! IHI’LL NEHEVER SAHAY THAHAT!!’

Angus raised a curious eyebrow, and stopped the tickling as a particularly malevolent smirk grew on his face.

‘…..never huh?’

Illinois gasped and panted, using one hand to fix his hair whilst the other hurried to cover up his bellybutton. He shivered and gulped though….because he could see in Angus’ eyes that he wasn’t done with him yet. He was impossibly stubborn….but so was Illinois, even now.

‘…..n-never.’

The room was silent, it was the calm before the storm between the two men. Then, the storm came. Illinois was already giggling as Angus reared up and straddled his thighs, before grabbing his wrists and pinning them down at his sides with a feral grin in place. Angus’ voice was low and chill-inducing….and Illinois was no longer in denial. He was fucked.

‘We shall see.’

When the first raspberry hit, Illinois was not ready. Nor was he ready for the second, third, or even the fourth. Every raspberry that hit Illinois’ waistline was more dramatic, sloppy, and tickly than the last, and it was driving the explorer crazy.

‘AAHHHHH AHAHANGUS NAHAHA-EEEE! EHEHEHEEWW IHIHIT’S WEHEHET!!!’

Illinois shrieked and thrashed about, laughing his head off as squeals came out of him left, right and centre. Angus snickered against Illinois’ skin before teasing.

‘Sorry what was that? It’s not wet enough? Oh I do apologise, let me fix that-‘

‘NONONOHOOOO!!!’

Illinois’ squeals reached new pitches as Angus chuckled evilly and ran his tongue back and forth along the man’s waist, flicking the tip against his skin every now and then to draw out a squeak. Illinois’ feet were kicking out behind Angus as the explorer went even redder….especially at Angus’ next words.

‘Mmmmm you taste good….’

Angus then set about dragging his teeth along Illinois’ waist until he reached the dip of one of his sides….and there he went to town with the most diabolical, sloppy nibbling in the history of tickling.

‘NONONOHOHO DOHOHON’T DOHOHOHOOON’T!!!’

Illinois wailed through his mirth as he tried to struggle, but Angus was well situated and had him strongly pinned….there was definitely no chance of escape. Angus snickered amidst his onslaught, purring softly.

‘You know what to say to make me stop….’

Illinois let out a loud, flustered whine as he cried out.

‘PLEHEHEASE DOHON’T MAHAKE MEHEEE!!!’

Angus snorted, he wasn’t the type to take pity of his ticklish loved ones. He paused the nibbling and locked eyes with Illinois, before replying in a low and threatening growl that honestly sent shivers right to Illinois’ very bones.

‘If you don’t admit that tickling is your weakness, right here and now….then this bad boy is going into that deep, sweet bellybutton of yours.’

Illinois let out a shattered gasp when Angus flicked his tongue out devilishly, making Illinois’ stomach instinctively try to suck itself in as the man himself trembled. Illinois gulped, mind racing as he thought about his options….eternal flusteredness, or absolute torture.

‘Time’s ticking Illinois….and I’m losing my patience….’

Illinois let out a yelp when he felt Angus’ tongue connect with his side, but then as it started to slowly drag towards that fateful little target, Illinois knew what he had to do….as much as it embarrassed him to the core.

‘OKAYOKAY I-I’ll sahay ihit plehease plehehease Ihi’ll sahay ihit Ahangus!’

Angus grinned and paused, and raised an expectant eyebrow at Illinois. The explorer took in some deep, shaky breaths….before he closed his eyes and said words that he never thought he’d say aloud.

‘I-Ihi….a-admit that…t-….tickling i-is my weakness….’

Illinois gulped and shivered, and waited a few seconds before nervously re-opening his eyes. He was met with the sight of Angus grinning at him with surprise and immense joy. Angus let out a soft laugh as he slid off of Illinois, releasing him.

‘Damn….Ihi didn’t think you’d ahactually say it….’

Illinois averted his eyes bashfully, before pushing his shirt down hurriedly as he cleared his throat.

‘Y-Yes well….i-it takes a strong man to uh….a-admit the truths he’d rather keep hidden….’

Angus let out a soft laugh through his nose, before pulling Illinois into his chest and kissing the top of his head softly.

‘Hell yeah it does.’

Illinois froze for a second….before smiling and bowing his head as he eagerly nestled into Angus’ chest. Strength comes in many forms, in power certainly, but also in openness and honesty. However the greatest form of strength, I think, is the strength that comes in the form of unabashed love and affection, in all of its forms.

WOOOO HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS FIC LEMME KNOW IF YA DO WOOOO LUV YOUS XX

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Lessons in Love (Bucky x Reader) - Part 16

Synopsis: The dawning of a New Year makes you consider the course your life is taking.

Words: 1557

Warnings: mentions of smut, swearing

Part 1    Part 2    Part 3    Part 4   Part 5    Part 6    Part 7    Part 8    Part 9    Part 10    Part 11    Part 12    Part 13    Part 14    Part 15

You managed to get through the rest of the holidays without mentioning Adam’s name. Your mother had tried to ask after the other man he’d mentioned but you’d shut that down immediately. You weren’t about to discuss Bucky with your parents. You didn’t need them knowing anything about that situation. You’d already disappointed them enough with your life choices.

You’d driven straight to Bucky’s place, not wanting to chance running into Adam at your place. You were sure he wouldn’t take your fight lying down. He had never taken a disagreement with you lying down. He always had to convince you that he was right and you were wrong. You refused to let him even have the chance to do it this time.

You’d spent the days between arriving home and New Years Eve in Bucky’s bed. His touch was scorching enough to make you forget the bad of your trip home, and in some cases, the good as well. His kisses could overwhelm you until it was nothing but the present in your mind. He helped you escape the turmoil of your own mind.

There wasn’t much you wouldn’t give to escape the thoughts whirling through your mind since that trip.

On the last day of the year you awoke in Bucky’s bed, the sheets twisted around your body. His arm was warm and heavy across your stomach and as you looked over him to the window overlooking the street you could see the beginnings of snow falling.

“Bucky?”

He grumbled, pulling you closer to his body. You shoved his shoulder, wanting to watch the world be reborn in ice and snow together. His fingers tightened on you but he made no move to get up.

“It’s snowing,” you said.

“And we should be sleeping.” His voice was scratchy from sleep.

“Come watch it with me.”

“No.”

You sighed, pushing his arm off your body. You rolled over, planting your feet firmly on the floor. You grabbed one of the blankets that lay discarded on the floor, wrapping it around yourself to keep the neighbours from seeing your bare body. You stood at the window, looking out, looking up, watching the snow fall onto the people hurrying past on the street.

Seeing the world into a blank slate always made you feel clean, as if the rebirth was your own. New Years always made you feel the same, as if it were possible to kill the bad from the previous year and start again, focusing on the good. You had so much bad to kill and so much good to look forward to.

You turned back around, looking at Bucky. His chest rose and fell, one arm still flung out, searching for the missing heat of your body. He made it so easy to forget.

But forgetting wasn’t moving on.

You padded out of the room, leaving him still sleeping in the bed you loved to share with him. You rummaged through the kitchen, wondering if you’d have to nip down to the corner shop or if he had groceries. You pulled things out as you went, leaving them on the bench for later.

Bucky emerged just as the bacon was beginning to sizzle. You knew his nose would lead him to you. He never could say no to a cooked breakfast. He wrapped his arms around you, swaying with you while you tried to cook the food for him.

You spun, handing him his plate of food. He took it, moving off to the sofa. He still refused to buy even an armchair despite the number of times one of you was forced to sit on the floor while eating. He didn’t have a dining table, saying he didn’t need one when he lived alone. You were growing used to these things popping up.

“It’s New Years Eve,” you said, sitting on the floor across from him on the cushion that had been left there the night before.

“So it is,” he said.

“I always think this is the time for new beginnings,” you said, “like the world is full of possibilities and I can choose which ones I take.”

He hummed his mouth full of food. It wasn’t an answer and you knew that you probably wouldn’t get one.

“See, the thing is, I’ve spent the last year just trying to survive. It’s been about not letting all the shit overtake me. I want to do more than survive now,” you said, “I want to live.”

“This is all very interesting but what does that have to do with me?” he asked after swallowing what was in his mouth.

“It means I know what I want. What I don’t want is a fuck buddy more complex than an unsolvable math problem,” you said, “I can’t keep pretending I’m fine when I’m not.”

“What are you saying?” he asked, putting the plate down on the coffee table.

“I’m saying either this needs to be something more than sex or we need to stop,” you said, “this isn’t helping either of us.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he demanded.

“Being with you like this is like slapping on a blindfold to stop seeing the flayed skin rather than getting a skin graft,” you said, “I think we can both agree we’re both fucked up and we’re not helping each other.”

“I think we’re helping each other plenty,” he said.

“Maybe in the short term. Maybe for the moment we can forget the pain and the heartbreak and the fucked up parts of ourselves but the minute it’s done it all comes rushing in. We’re not doing anything constructive about it.”

“It’s constructive for me,” he snapped.

“Then let me rephrase it,” you said, “this isn’t constructive for me.”

You put your plate on the coffee table with his, no longer hungry. You didn’t want to continue living your life where it was so complicated, so full of fucked up feelings.

“Look, this entire thing has always felt wrong, and not just because you were my professor, but that was a big part of it. And yeah, the sex is great, it’s fucking phenomenal, but the rest? All I am to you is someone you can fuck, and most of the time you’re looking to control me. Not the way Adam has, but it’s enough to make me feel more like an object than a person. And sure, sometimes you act like it’s not like this, but at the end of the day this is just about sex. And that’s not what I need.”

He didn’t bother trying to argue against what you were saying. You stood up, wrapping the blanket more securely around you. You walked back into his bedroom, dropping the blanket to pull on your clothes. You shoved your shoes on your feet, grabbing your bag from where you’d left it.

“You should consider getting some professional help,” you said standing in the doorway, “I know I need it.”

“You don’t know shit.”

He flung himself off the sofa, rounding on you still on the threshold. He grabbed your shoulders, his grip too tight and his face that of a feral wolf.

“I want something real, Bucky, someone who actually loves me. I spent long enough with someone who didn’t. You can’t do that for me. You’ll be the first to admit that. You’re so closed off you can’t let yourself love someone, and when they love you, you push them away. I’m done.”

“You don’t get to decide this.”

“Actually, I do,” you replied, “you don’t own me and my body is mine. I don’t want you touching me.”

He let you go as if you were burning him. You ducked past him, making for the door. You turned before you got to the front door.

“I never knew Steve, and I never will, but the way you talk about him he would be so disappointed with the way you’re acting. I don’t think he would want you wallowing in your grief and guilt the way you are. It’s not healthy and if you keep going this way then you’re right. It would have been better if you had been the one to die. Because this isn’t living.”

You pushed out the door, letting it slam behind you. You practically ran to your car, the tears building in your eyes. You shoved your bag into the back before taking your place behind the wheel. Tears were streaming down your cheeks and you weren’t sure you were safe to drive but you couldn’t stay there. The thought of Bucky finding you there, watching you have this break down, was more than you could handle.

You hadn’t thought he’d offer to be your boyfriend. You knew saying all that would be the end but it still hurt more than you thought it would. You should not have let your feelings get involved but he could make you feel so special. You were wrong. And you needed to put yourself first for once.

You didn’t say anything to Mel when you got home despite her questions. You slammed your bedroom door, curling up in your bed, refusing to come out. You didn’t want to emerge for at least a week. You had even less than what you’d had at the same time last year.

Tags: @libellule2001 @sebs-daybreak @grim-adventures58

[elara98azalea]

Come Back

Prompt: “I like the disease.” - Demon Dean

Pairing - Dean x Reader ; Sam x Reader (platonic)

Word Count: 1266

Warnings: None. Just some angst. And Demon Dean, if that’s a warning.

Dean Winchester and Y/N never saw eye to eye. Their relationship, in itself, was very odd. They didn't hate each other, merely tolerated the other's presence for the sake of Sam. Whenever they met, there were no long hugs or how are you doing or I missed you, no. It was nothing like that, even after knowing each other for almost all their life. Whenever they met, there was just a small nod of acknowledgement and afterwards, they were off to finish business and slaying monsters.

Sam, however, was the exact opposite story. He had been her best friend since the day they'd met at Bobby's place, and their whole childhood had been spent attached at each other's hip. It was hard to find Sam and Y/N apart, and over the years the relationship blossomed more into that of siblings.

So when Sam had called her - crying and basically begging for help, Y/N hadn't even spared a second in saying 'yes'. The ride to the bunker from the small town she had taken up residence in, wasn't too far, and she was immensely thankful for that. It took her roughly two hours to reach the Winchester's humble abode. She had just knocked on the heavy metal door of the bunker, when no sooner it was opened by an utterly exhausted and tired Sam.

The tension seemed to leave his body as soon as his eyes landed on his best friend. He hugged her close to his chest, burying his face in her hair as if trying to assure himself that everything would turn out to be okay.

"Hey, buddy! It's so nice to see you." Y/N spoke, gently rubbing soothing circles on his back. She knew him well enough that Sam was an absolute mess at the moment.

"It's good to see you too Y/N/N. Thank you so much for coming on such short notice." Sam said suddenly nervous. He hadn't wanted to drag her into this whole mess seeing how Dean and Y/N didn't like each other much, but she was really his last hope.

"Don't be absurd Sammy. You did the right thing by calling me." Y/N said with a frown on her face.

"Yeah! Oh god, where are my manners...come on in." He ushered her inside, smiling slightly at the look of absolute awe on her face.

"Like it?" He asked as they moved along the halls and in the kitchen.

"This place is absolutely brilliant, Sammy. I see now why you gave me the offer to stay here." Y/N said as she graciously accepted the offered glass of water.

After several moments of light-hearted conversation. Y/N finally asked, “Where is he?”

"He's tied up in the dungeon. There really was no other way to keep him in one place." Sam sighed and Y/n noticed how much of a toll the whole situation had taken on him. There were dark circles under his eyes and it seemed that he hadn't been taking care of himself.

"We're gonna get your brother back, Sammy. Don't worry." Y/N said with full confidence easing a few Sam's worries.

"Let's go and meet him, shall we?" Y/N followed the younger Winchester to the dungeon wherein Dean's humming could be heard from the other side of the door. Suddenly the humming stopped and his voice boomed startling Y/N a little.

"You know, it's very rude to tie up your own brother like this, Sammy. Tell me, is this what I taught you, hmm? Let go of me, brother mine, or you know what will be the consequences."

Y/N slightly shivered at the coldness of his voice. This definitely wasn't the Dean she had known. Sam was waiting for her approval and after receiving an affirmatory nod, he gently opened the door which immediately silenced Dean.

“Tricking me like this wasn't very nice of you, Sammy. I told you to stop following me or searching for me, didn't I?...” Before he could speak any further Y/N came into his line of sight bringing a feral grin to appear on his face.

“Well, well, well...look who it is! If it isn't Sammy's loyal pet. How're you doing, darling?” The demon wearing Dean's face spoke.

“Don’t talk to her like that, Dean,” Sam warned his brother. Whether this own blood or not, Sam definitely wouldn't back down if his brother insulted any woman.

“What!? Don’t want me to talk to your little girlfriend?” Dean scoffed in disbelief.

“I'm not his girlfriend,” Y/n spoke with gritted teeth. She hadn’t even talked to him, but the stupid smirk on his face was getting on her nerves already.

“As if I’d believe you. Stop with all the drama, darling. We both know, you ain’t here for me, but for dear Sammy.”

“You’re mistaken this time. I didn’t come here for Sam. I actually came here for you.” Y/N spoke, looking at Dean straight in the eye. Deans grin faltered for a second as if he was stunned by her answer, but no sooner it was back on his stupidly handsome face.

“Wow! I didn’t know that you liked me this much Y/N/N. What do you say - wanna grab some juicy burger and cold beer?” He winked at her in the most pervert way making her internally gag.

“Stop with the nonsense, Dean. This ain’t you. This monster that’s wreaking chaos and havoc, isn’t you. You’re the hero who saves people and makes them believe that there is still goodness left in this cruel world. You’re a Winchester, and you don’t give up that easily.” By the time she was finished, she was kneeling in front of him with a pleading look in her eyes.

Dean was looking at her as if he’d never seen her before. She wasn’t the annoying kid that never followed his orders or the girl who was more interested in books and guns, instead of tea-parties and ponies. She wasn’t the girl who was trying to come between Dean and his brother. She was just Y/N. A badass hunter. A loyal friend, and most importantly one of the fiercest women, Dean had ever gotten the chance to meet.

Y/N, on her part, could see the gears in his head spinning. Maybe her trick was working, so she kept on talking to him, “I know you’re in there, Dean. And I know that you’re listening to my every word. You need to come back. The world needs you, Sam needs you. Come back, Dean. I know that there are still monsters out there, lurking in the shadows, but take a look at your brother,” she gestured towards the other Winchester who seemed to be on edge. Sam’s heart was beating frantically with only one thought in his mind - will he get his brother back? The Dean looking at him was his older brother, his protector, his only family. How was Sam supposed to give up on him so easily?

“Yeah, that’s the brother you swore to protect all your life.” Dean looked back to Y/N. Y/N kept going on, “Come on, Dean. Come back. Let us take care of the disease.” As soon as those words left her mouth, everything seemed to go down the drain. Black ink spread through the moss green eyes and took away Sam’s hope with it. Dean grinned maniacally.

“I like the disease. I don’t want to be cured.”

Y/N sighed dejectedly. This wasn’t going to be easy at all.

Tagging @where-is-dean-winchester

[mezzopurrloin]

Chapter 3-7: The Oracle

Last time, Thrall and Cairne entered the caves of Stonetalon Peak.

Now we join them in the caverns, making their way toward the mysterious Oracle.

Let's split up, gang.

It's another dungeon crawl mission. The rules are the same as before: There's no base so we can use only the units provided in the dungeon, and Thrall has to survive until the end since there's no opportunity to revive him.

Far Sight can't be used in indoor areas, and we get a nice little gift to help deal with that. The Tome of Retraining is a single-use item that unlearns all of a hero's skills, allowing them to reallocate their skill points. By using that I can unlearn Far Sight and put 3 points each in Chain Lightning and Feral Spirit, plus one in Earthquake.

Both spells come in pretty handy for zapping stuff. Thrall doesn't have much in the way of an army and we have to rely on his own power for a lot of this mission. There are a lot of good items here too, which I unfortunately had to drop some of Thrall's previous stock in order to carry.

These cultists look like Acolytes, but they're much more powerful and dangerous.

I took things pretty slow, using my Witch Doctor's Healing Wards to patch people up between fights.

An Orb of Fire is another good find for Thrall. Cairne probably needs this more since he can't attack air naturally, but Thrall can hold on to it for now.

What is with this pink water? It's probably supposed to be lava again, but honestly it just looks even more like Kool-Aid.

This death revenant looks doomy. The Reforging gave it a grim scythe to look even doomier with.

It's joined by a pair of skeleton archers that emerge from the flames.

This skeleton lord and his cronies are fought after defeating the revenant. I'm not really sure why it has the 'giant' tag, but well, it sure looks giant. The royal treasure room is locked, so after this fight it's time to search for the key.

Ah, there it is.

The reward is well worth the effort. The Crown of Kings is one of the strongest items in the game, with a +5 bonus to all hero stats. Well, unless you're used to playing custom maps which frequently give out even stronger items like candy, but I digress. I'm not gonna be LPing any custom maps in this, because if I did I would probably be doing that for the rest of my life. This vault also held Scrolls of Healing, Mana, and Protection, all of which I used immediately rather than let them take up precious inventory space.

With that errand out of the way, we can move to the Way Gate beyond the throne room.

We'll have to find the heart to proceed further.

These Peasants will turn into Footmen when they reach the armor rack.

We can find some trapped Headhunters who will join our side once released.

Game, stop giving me good items and making me discard more of Thrall's junk. +50% mana regeneration is way more useful than 150 maximum mana, so I threw away Thrall's Pendant of Energy for it.

Well, Thrall, there's a good reason for that.

It's because they're polymorphed humans waiting to ambush you.

I had planned to just let the harpies and dragon fight each other...

But they said no to that. Time to kill them all then. Those Headhunters I rescued came in real handy for this.

Once the harpies are down, the dragon was easy prey.

Would you look at that. Just what we needed. There's a Way Gate nearby that goes back to the statue too.

With the heart returned, Thrall can cross...

...and immediately get stopped by another obstacle. Uh, okay then.

Hey, it works as an excuse to skip to Cairne's side of things.

Yikes.

After what happened to your buddies, I don't blame you.

Ooh, more good items. As if Cairne doesn't have good enough survivability already.

If we idle long enough, this hungry hungry lizard will eventually eat through all the mushrooms, granting passage to the other side. They count as trees so they can't be attacked by Cairne or his warriors. I'm not really in a rush, so I decided to hang around.

It was worth it. Multiple Auras on the same hero can stack with one another, but if a hero gains the item version of an aura they already have naturally, it doesn't do anything.

That's way too many to fight at once.

Good thing there's a convenient spike trap switch nearby.

Yeah, really.

Cairne got a Chaos Emerald!

Kobolds in most fantasy settings are usually lizard folk of some sort. The Warcraft kobolds are more like rats, and have an obsession with candles. They seem to love wearing candles on their heads, and telling you not to take them.

The Kobold Mastermind dropped some Claws of Attack, which make you look like Wolverine improve the holder's attack damage. They come in a few different varieties, the +12 being one of the stronger ones.

This hall of statues has a few that will animate and attack Cairne as he passes by.

They dropped a key as they fell. This allows Cairne to rejoin Thrall and put the gem in its place.

Ooh, shiny.

I'm sorry, what? I spent this whole campaign leading up to meeting the Oracle and it's just you again? I knew this twist was coming and I still feel robbed.

Next time, an unexpected alliance.

[thegoddesseos]

Deduction.

Ignis is undergoing psychological training to further prepare him for the role of chief analyst and right hand to future King Noctis. This is very different from anything I've shared with you all! I honestly don't know where it came from, I was reading another fic (who I'll tag in a moment) stopped mid sentence- and feverishly began writing this. I hope you enjoy....? *gulps* 

TLDR; DAD HAS A HARD TIME OKAY ;A;

 TW: Mental torture (?) Thriller. 

 Today he was in his parents’ house. The house where he’d grown up in Insomnia. His mother and father were both aging beautifully, and they welcomed him with open arms, beaming with pride at their son. 

“I’m making your favorite, my dear!”, his mom said in her usual chipper tone. “Mother,” Ignis began to protest, yet knowing all the wiser. “All these years of making me things, why not let me make you something for a change, hm?” “Where do you think you got the love of cooking from young man” she playfully retorted.

 “Yeah, let the woman alone!” his father chimed in, cracking a smile. 

 His parents. The only people he’d humor enough to let take care of him even for an instant. He did it mostly out of respect. He wouldn’t dare put up a real fight with his mother (she’d raised him better than that). 

“Father”, he nodded, finally being able to greet him while his mother was in the kitchen, humming to herself as she prepped the kitchen. 

“Come sit with me, my boy”. He gestured to the seat next to him on the couch, his words, full of warmth. Ignis joined him, his chest tightening, swelling with love for the man he hoped to be half as great as one day. His father took his hand, simply beaming at his boy, and the man he’d become. It was softer than Ignis had remembered, his grasp lightened with age. 

“Ignis, i’m so very prou- 

 *BAM*

 Ignis’ heart shot out of his chest, the following scream he heard could only be that of his mother. He whipped his head around to reveal that she was trapped under part of the roof that’d come crashing down in the explosion. Shots rang out from overhead, and flying Niflheim tanks littered the sky. 

“We’re under attack!!” Ignis ran towards his mother who lay on the ground, oven mitt still on her hand. Another shot rung out crashing through the living room when he heard his father shout in agony. He was hit, and was bleeding from the gut. 

 “Ignis, sweetheart!” he heard his mom pleaded with him to help her. 

“I-ignis…” his father managed to mumble, blood spurting from his lips. After a moment’s hesitation, the cinematics slowed around him, waiting for him, allowing him time to make his choice. 

“I- I…” he looked down at his mother cradled in his arms. 

“STASIS”, he yelled. A wreck, and shaking. His mother disintegrated in his arms, and the room reset to it’s default of sickly white, with slightly flickering fluorescent lights that only added to the abysmal mood of the room. 

 “Mission objective: f a i l e d”, rang through the room. A different tri-tone voice came over the loud speaker, preceded only by the sound of a button being pressed, followed by a faint crackling silence. 

 “You’ve now exhausted your hault stasis for the month, Mr. Scientia.” 

“I know”, he said. Slumped on the ground where the image of his mother lay dying before him was, not only a minute prior. “I know”, he repeated. This time, defeat hung on his words. Anger building where fear had been, he began to kick himself internally for being too weak, too indecisive, and too slow to complete the mission. That was the third time he’d been unable to complete his Rapid Deduction test. He knew he needed work in this area. Hostage Negotiations VR had been relatively smooth, and gone without a hitch. Same goes for Strategic Planning VR, but his Rapid Deduction reasoning brought him to his knees every time. 

How was he to know which life he should save? His mother or his father. Who thinks about that kind of thing? Except, he knew the answer. It was him. He was expected to think of these things, to test him, and his mind. To make life changing decisions at a moment’s notice. 

 “That’s...enough, for one day” he finally said, bringing himself up to his feet. He heard the sssshhhhss sound of the air tight lock release on the sliding doors, and he left the virtual reality room without a second glance back. Tomorrow would be another day. Who knows what the scenario would be, but tomorrow, he’d be ready. 

Sometimes he wished his strength lie in the physical realm like Gladio. He has it so much easier. Physical labor- he’d take that any day, over his plot. Lift 1,000 lbs total, a day? Sure. Anything to escape an instant of the mental torture he’s put through. Similar to physical strength, he knows mental strength builds over time. “It’ll come”, he whispers to himself, walking to his car getting ready to drive home. “But i’m going to have to increase my stamina, and to do that i’ll need to be alert, awake, and at pique functioning capacity”.

 The next morning, he set out for his usual coffee place. “Ah, Mr. Scientia! Room for cream and sugar? Same as always?” chirped the cute barrister, brown ponytail bobbing.

 He paused, deep in thought.

 “Just black- thank you”

 “Ohh, something new today, I see?” she giggled. “Alright-one ebony it is! You betchya- coming right up sir” and she bounced away to prepare his cup to go.

 ***

 The tri-tone voice came over the intercom again (if he ever found out which of the Kingsguard was behind the two way glass..he’d..he’d…. )

He was never able to really finish the thought, seeing as he couldn't really do anything to the Kingsguard, but if he could..it woulda been something bad.

 “Shall we begin again, Mr. Scientia” the familiar tri-tone voice rung out through the intercom, filling the VR room. Ignis met the voice with silence.

Click.

 “Shall we begin again, Mr. Scientia.”

A bead of sweat dripped from his forehead, and landed on the ground. How long had he been watching his loved ones die at this point. Three? Four? Five hours? 

Click.

 The press of the button filled the room, followed by the predictable crackling white noise, and the tri tone voice once more.

“Shall we begin again Mr. Scientia.” Ignis exhaled sharply through his nose, his hair clinging to his forehead, matted with sweat. His shirt, soaked through, revealing the muscles of his lean torso, and his heaving chest.

 “Yes.” 

Noctis had been knocked unconscious. Gladio’s pelvis had been crushed by the red giant and he was now bleeding out from the massive wound. If Ignis could just get him the high elixer in time…but Prompto can’t survive against the giant foe for long on his own. He’s wasted too much time in thought. 

“Mission: F A I L E D”

 There had to be a way to save them both. There had to be. What was he missing, what clue was he missing. He knows he needs to move faster. No- think faster. Each time he tries to save them both he’s met with the same outcome. 

 “Mission: F A I L E D”

 Hot tears begin to cloud his vision, his eyes, feral, darting from one friend to the other. Wetness leaves his eyes having to watch his friends cry out for his aid and die over, and over. This simulation...it was becoming too much for him. He felt his mind begin to seer, and bubble underneath his skull.

 “I CAN’T”, his eyes going wild behind his glasses. “You bastards. I know you can hear me!”, demanding that someone from behind the double glass, covered by the running simulation have mercy on him.

 “Someone” he pleads. 

 Click. The tri-tone voice came over the intercom. 

 “Again.”

 Mustering all the composure he had, and speaking through gritted teeth, eyes fixed on the floor “If...I could only have a glass of wat-”

 “Shall we begin again, Mr.Scientia” the tri- tone voice rang out once more. He wished desperately he’d not used all his halt stasis for the month. Gods, did he need them now. A soft “yes” managed to escape his lips. The words heavy with defeat did not carry far, and were almost immediately lost to the vast space of the room. 

Click. “Shall we begin agai-” 

“YES!!” his fists slammed into his legs in a hot fury. “YES. For Gods sake, yes.” Click. “Composure, Mr Scientia” the trill tone voice rings out, monotonously. 

Ignis, takes his glasses off and rubs the bridge of his nose, clenching his jaw together. He unbuttons his shirt, sweat pooling in the nook of his collar bones. “Proceed” he says sternly. A newfound determination, forming within him. He could save Gladio, but would he be happy without his lower body? Would he be able to find new meaning in life, no longer being able to live up to his father’s legacy? His entire family’s legacy? No. Ignis decided, you just can’t be sure. You can’t make decisions by what people might do. To save Gladio would mean leaving Prompto, who was basically a civilian. Not just any civilian. He just so happened to be Noctis’ closest friend. Ignis thought back, his mind racing, deducing, cycling through possibilities and probable outcomes of his actions in his mind’s eye. When Prompto had joined them in training for fun, he’d needed help on ¾ of the missions. That’s a 75% chance that he can’t survive without the assistance of at least one other person. Ignis’ eyes were darting around from Prompto, to Gladio who was in desperate need of that high elixr, back to Prompto, who couldn’t last much longer on his own. How would the King survive without the company if the one person who keeps him grounded? Prompto’s friendship is paramount to Noctis’ mental stability. Amicitia is of nobility though. His family, and his purpose practically bred into his DNA to protect the king, to train him, make him stronger. Gladio is an indispensable resource just with knowledge of combat alone, Ignis thinks. Noctis needs Gladio’s knowledge to be able to protect himself. 

Friends come second to the will of what the burden of the throne commands. 

 “Iggy, man! Prompto’s needs help! Ngh-” Gladio’s eyes rolled back in pain. Ignis turned away from Prompto. 

“I-Iggy? Iggy, buddy! Iggy!” Prom screamed, desperately trying to bring his friend back to his aid. Ignis’ choice marked the point of no return. He could feel his heart, ripping in two while he administered the high elixr to Gladio, only to be met with, “What in the Gods name is wrong with you! I could have handled this pain! Prompto! Ignis-” Gladio yells through his tears, “Prompto is dying!”

Red Giant still at large, Prompto laid on the ground, having suffered a final rib crushing blow to the chest. His eyes glassed over, a vacant expression on his face, mouth slightly parted, a tear falling over his star dusted cheeks and Ignis broke.

 “Objective: c o m p l e t e” rang through the room as it reset to its standard sickly white walls, and flickering fluorescent lights. He’d watched the look of betrayal color his friend’s eyes as they died by his actions a thousand times. A thousand times he’d have to choose what life to save, and when. Calculating who survives and who doesn't if the time came down to it, and weighing one against the other. 

 Regis or Luna.

 Luna or Noctis.

 Prompto or Luna.

 Gladio or Iris.

 Iris or Prompto.

Time after time he's met with incomprehensible combinations of loved ones. His heart shredding apart with each simulation. He learned not to show emotional weakness, and keep up his prim and proper image in the presence of others. If he couldn’t keep himself in check, how would he ever be able to keep the affairs of a king in order? Before long, he’s mastering almost any scenario, achieving the best possible outcomes, despite seemingly insurmountable odds. His training served him well throughout his journey with Noctis, Prompto, and Gladio on their way to the wedding in Lestallum. Ignis managed to keep the group alive, through otherwise fatal encounters. “Iggy!”, the prince would say, having exhausted all his resources. “I’ve got just the thing!” he’d reply, coming up with the perfect remedy in the heat of battle to defeat whatever foe blocked their path. During the fall of Leviathian, he’d been tasked with evacuating the citizens as quickly as possible. In the stampede of people rushing through the flood gates, a mother and her three children were making their hasty escape, her arms already already tied with two infants, her 5 year old had no choice but to run by her side. However, the influx of people managed to separate her from her oldest child. What’s worse, is that Niff soldiers were descending on the crowd, and the child found himself face to face with a Magitek trooper in the chaos.

 Ignis protested against his automatic thoughts, that were saying self preservation over the lives of a civilian. No. This is wrong. He thought. This is wrong. He managed to force one leg in front of the other, bursting into a sprint, his nerves on fire in rebellion against his conditioning. Mission failed rang through his mind at a maddening pace growing louder in his mind the closer he got to the child, when soon his mind's voice was screaming MISSION FAILED. He didn’t care, this wasn’t a VR mission. This was real life. 

He pushed through his thoughts as he pulled the child to safety, he felt the slice of white hot iron to eyes. He’d been struck. 

 “Thank you! Thank the gods for you!” the mother managed through her sobs, clinging to her child. “Thank the gods for you! Thank the gods for you!” she said to Ignis, while littering her son’s face with kisses. His knees gave way, and he was taken under by the searing pain as his body met the blackness of the asphalt. 

His final thought before succumbing to the pain- objective complete.