#rip his lats i guess

[svampira]

revamped

[midnightarcheress]

Simon travels with you.

pairing: bodyguard!ghost x actress!reader cw: mentions of stalking/threats 3 | gold rush masterlist.

the flight is strange. he was used to flying on an excruciatingly loud helicopter, with adrenaline overflowing on his bloodstream as he prepared to jump in the field, or in a simple commercial plane back to Manchester after a long deployment, dwarfing on cramped corridors and elbowing people sitting beside him. a private jet was far too removed from his reality.

but not from yours. from his seat on the back of the plane, he would glance at you from time to time, crossed thighs on the soft cushioned seats like you were simply lounging at your own sofa, not cruising miles up in the air, with eyes attentively going over the plans for the next few days with Daniel. 

he doesn’t understand half of it, but you’re some sort of spokesperson? ambassador? of cosmetic’s brand, whatever that’s supposed to mean. everything he hears just passes straight through his brain. he just cares about what he’ll have to do – follow you around like a guard dog who’s not allowed to bark.

“last time you promised me a day off, Dan. what’s the point of all this travelling if i can’t even explore the city i’m in?” a huff escapes your lips, utterly annoyed by the limitations of your schedule. a life too micromanaged to bear any autonomy.

“i told you there’s no time for a day off, you have back to back appointments–” the man stops, staring at the puppy-eyed gaze you give him, the magical pout that would get anyone on their knees, “fine. i guess i can arrange a free afternoon before we leave.” Simon can’t help the hint of a smirk forming under his mask after you got what you wanted, internally commending your ability to bend any resolve without lifting a single finger.

after landing, you head directly to the hotel to get ready for the big event. Simon’s stuck with you in a room that’s almost as big as his entire flat, bored out of his mind watching frantic people dolling you up – activity he sees no purpose in, since you couldn't get any prettier in his eyes. his eardrums are already hurting from the constant noise in the place, but still functioning enough to pick up the double knock on the door. 

you also hear it, shifting on your chair and glancing around the room as if you were looking for someone, until your eyes land on him. “Ghost?” you say, head tilting in the door direction, “could you get that, please?” he sighs and nods, pushing himself away from the wall to answer it.

the hotel employee hands him a bouquet of white lilies, courtesy of the brand, the man says. as soon as the lock clicks again, Simon notices your beaming smile at the arrangement in his possession, eyes shining like a child in the toy section. he passes you the bouquet, not missing how your smile fades into a frown the second you skim through the small card hidden between the flowers, raising an alarm flag in his brain. “something wrong?” 

“what?” your eyes dart between his and the paper in your hands, quickly tucking it in your robe pocket, “oh, no, it’s nothing.” your lips curve, barely so, tentatively brushing off the topic as you finish getting ready. his brows furrowed, not fully accepting your dismissal and sensing that you’re covering something, but he doesn’t want to press you in front of everyone. he just hopes that you’ll trust him enough to come to him if it’s another threat. 

he’d seen the content of a few of the letters you received, as a part of his briefing, just to understand what he was dealing with. some of them were pathetic expressions of emotion, serving you undying devotion and promises of eternal love, but some were filled with a predatory fury, a mixture of jealousy and hunger, visceral descriptions of how they wanted to rip you apart. all with the same signature. you never talked about the situation, never addressed to him the necessity of having a bodyguard. he could only imagine the turmoil of fear inside your chest.

a couple hours later, much to his relief, the event ended, allowing him to take you back to the hotel without having to hear any more french buzzing for the rest of the evening. 

“Ghost?” he stops on his way out, hand hovering on the doorknob and face turned to you. every time you call him, he feels a piece of his defence wall crumbling, determination to keep his distance slowly disappearing due the sweet sound that travels through the air. “can you, uhm, help me?” you look over your shoulder to the back of your dress, the zipper being impossible to reach without dislocating a joint. 

his brain momentarily freezes, scrambling to form a quick and coherent yeah, sure, or to simply shake his head in agreement. he takes a step closer, letting you turn around and move your hair before daring to touch you.

“funny how after the party there’s no one to help you clean up, right?” your eyes roam around the empty room and you chuckle, but the saddened tone of your laugh is easily recognizable, “so different from earlier.” his large digits find the invisible zipper in the fabric, slowly tugging it down as his other hand stays on your lower back for support. 

his heart is thumping loudly, the gradual exposure of your back being sufficient to divert his blood flow and make him feel something that he definitely shouldn’t. despite the profound temptation to trace your naked spine with his fingers and to lean closer to your soft neck, he steps back, clearing his throat and going back to the exit, “so, uhm, goodnight then."

you turn slightly, holding the gown by your chest and gently grinning in gratitude, “goodnight, Ghost.”

lol took me so long to write this, i'm still scrambling with the ideas/scene sequences for the story (but now it has a name)

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Dead Dream: First Trophy

“Bansheee! Banshee Banshee!”

Banshee’s head shot up in startlement, nearly knocking Glasskit out of the nest. Glasskit glared at their great-uncle as they clambered back in.

“Yes, Stubs?” Banshee asked tiredly. 

“Oh, nothing. I just like saying your name.”

Banshee grumbled a reply and stuck her head beneath her paws as she tried to go back to sleep. 

Blinking after their ridiculous kin, Glasskit decided they weren’t that tired, rather quite the opposite, and padded after Stubs until he realized someone was following him. He grinned, wide and toothy. “Glassy lassie-laddie!”

“Don’t call me that,” Glasskit responded. “Can we train?”

Stubs tilted his head. “Train? Little kit, you’re still only three!”

“So? I want to train now!”

Stubs shrugged. “You got me there.” He gestured for them to follow him and lead the way to one of the many clearings ‘fenced’--as the family would say–by the thorns. Stopping in the center, he turned to face Glasskit. “So what do you want to know? Offense? Defense?”

“Off-what?” Glasskit asked, utterly confused.

“Uh–how to attack or how to fight off an attack?”

Glasskit considered that for a moment. “Attack!” they decided enthusiastically. 

Stubs’s eyes sparked. He leapt at Glasskit with his claws unsheathed. Shrieking in surprise, Glasskit ran behind a small cluster of stones, leaving Stubs to land expertly on the ground and look after them in confusion. 

“Don’t just jump at me!” Glasskit hissed, annoyance and fright apparent in their bristling fur.

Stubs blinked a few times. Then he shrugged again, sat down, and waited for Glasskit to reproach him. Glasskit did so quickly–they weren’t afraid, they had only been startled, but as soon as Glasskit was near, Stubs moved. As swift as a slippery fish, his paw swung, landing hard on Glasskit’s tail. Glasskit began to yowl when Stubs, more gently, pushed at their face, cutting them off. 

“No time to be in pain,” he instructed.

“Well, I am!” Glasskit growled, eyes stinging and pricking with tears as their tail was squashed against the ground.

“Then hold it and save it for later, when you’re somewhere safe. Now’s the time for focusing, gotcha? Focus. What do ya do?”

Glasskit searched around them for an answer, as if the thorns in the near-distance would reach into their ear and say it to them, but everywhere their eyes reached was blocked by the knowledge, the feeling of pain on their tail, and they struggled to push it away. Think!

They went limp, hoping Stubs would guess that they had given up. “Nuh-uh, try again,” Stubs told them. “Cats here don’t care if you admit defeat, they’ll rip your belly out as soon as they think ya weak enough to allow them. Don’t let them think that.”

Okay, something else then. Stubs was clearly expecting them to do something, and they will, but they had to do what was not expected of them. So what could throw off their great-uncle long enough to give them a chance? 

What did Stubs expect? My tail hurts so much!–it’s just pain, get over it. Now, what did Stubs expect? Glasskit looked back at their tail, where it was being held. The closest part of Stubs to them was his paw. He obviously expected them to attack that, perhaps bite his toe. Glasskit didn’t want to do what was expected, yet if it was the only part of his body they could harm, what else could they do?

“It hurts too much!” Glasskit wailed, voice trembling. 

Stubs’s ears twitched. “Ah, well, maybe we can finish this lat–”

Before he could finish, Glasskit spun around. The movement caused their tail to stretch unbearably, but they pushed through it. Biting hard onto Stub’s sheathed claw, they yanked their head back while pushing at the toe with their much smaller front paws. After a couple tugs, Glasskit thought that they must be too small to pull it off, but on the third, their head swung back far, thudding onto the ground, and they realized, claw in mouth, that they had managed to pull it off–quite literally.

Stubs’s jaws were clamped shut, a scream of pain just managing to escape through his teeth. His eyes were screwed closed, and when they opened, they blazed with fury. “You little!”

Glasskit forced themself not to run away again or let their fear show, though their body yelled at them to run or shake. Standing tall, or as tall as they could make themself to the much larger tom, they said, “just focus on something else.”

Stubs froze. Glasskit winced, preparing for a harsh blow. Instead, laughter sounded, so loud and sudden that it still made the kit flinch. “That’sa good one! ‘Focus on something else!’ Why, ain’t you a little shit? I love it!”

Glasskit smiled, pride warming them even at the unfamiliar name. But the pride was quickly replaced with guilt as they saw the small blood trail dripping from Stubs’s toe. His face twitched in pain, but otherwise he seemed fine, and his anger was gone. “I think that’s enough for now,” he decided. “Didn’t think I would be the one with a battle scar!”

Glasskit looked at their paws.

“Ah, don’t worry ‘none, I got plenty! Come, I think Red and Myrtle should be back with dinner by now!”

Warmth returned to Glasskit’s heart, spreading down to their paws as they bounced along beside their kin. Before they got far, however, Stubs stopped. “Wait!” He hurried back to the clearing, returning with his claw hanging from his lip. Was he hoping to reattach it?

But Stubs handed it to them. “Your first trophy!” Stubs declared, sounding thrilled. “The family will be so proud!”

Glasskit could hardly contain their joy, smiling ear to ear. They didn’t know what ‘trophy’ meant, but if this was how their family reacted, they couldn’t wait to gain more.

===================

--Stubs messing with Banshee. Or maybe he purposefully got Glasskit’s attention cause he wanted to train them?

--Glass doesn’t go by they/them just yet, but since this is their pov, it’s how they feel currently (they are genderqueer).

--I wonder how the family (mostly Glass’s parents) will react to this news?

--Since the family has long trees, anyone greater than an uncle is a ‘great-uncle.’ So Hound is great-pa, Bella is great-ma (or Bella-ma sometimes), etc.

@ambitiousauthor

@elementaldeityoffood 

[residentdormouse]

Zeal for Zapping out ‘Z’ Words

Zoned out like a zombie from sleep deprivation, I find a haze oozing into my thoughts. Amazing dreams of dozing off, nuzzling into a cozy blanket. A fuzzy daze taking hold and a fire safely blazing while I snooze, waltzing off into a state of zen. The day whizzing by with my glazed over eyes gazing into a dazzling prize far off beyond the ozone. Seizing sights of the zodiac in the stars….

(I write as I sit in my cubicle at work, cold and desperately wanting a nap.)

So, the only way I get all ‘Z’ starting words is if I include proper names. Cheating seeing as you were able to do it all without (especially with the main damn character in all of your stuff having one), but it's what I got.

As for a new Challenge @mrsmungus : I’m just delaying the inevitable at best, so take your time - but if you would like to stick to themes, I propose finding the rainbow. (I have a toddler, colors are right there next to the alphabet.)

🌈 Your Words: Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Purple (or if you want to get all fancy with vermilion or whatnot, substitute as you see fit 😂) 🌈

As always - Open Tag - if you feel so inclined to join in.

All excerpts came from 'Diving'. I guess I wasn't as ambitious with my 'z's when I was starting out

Zombies:

“I don’t know if you’ve played any of these or not. Just cut me off if you did! Like a wave, or something, and I'll shut up. Here. So this one has a great story. It’s like a 'choose your own adventure', almost, kind of. Less action, more split second decisions. And this one is great for working out frustration. I always enjoy a good button mash massacre on a bad day. Pixelated vengeance solves all, am I right? Now this one isn’t as exciting up front but…” Her voice trailed off as she caught a second glance at his face. “You’re not a gamer, are you?”

He tilted his head slightly, and he tried to hold back the amusement he felt.

“I could bring over some books if that's more your speed? Or shows or something. World of possibilities opened up with electricity now!”

He hadn't expected the turn of events, and felt himself enjoying the levity she exuded. Sure, she got flustered easily at times, but even when the babbling was raging strongly against her, she had an aura that made the world seem lighter and more carefree. The game was set back down on the bed, his pen clicked again, and Nick began writing under the previous message.

‘Button mash massacre?’

The second of a few cartridges was singled out and snatched up. In a quick movement, she swapped out the games and placed the device back on the bed. With a bashful smile, she moved to sit next to him, and he found himself scooting over gently to allow her more room.

“It does a world of good. Believe me. When my last external fried, and I couldn’t pull anything back… Aww man, those zombies, they didn’t stand a chance in hell. Slaughter, I tell you.”

Zero:

He was thoroughly unprepared for this fight. He wasn’t prepared for a fight at all. One minute he was hanging onto a high of unfamiliar emotions, grasping at the edge of an unknown euphoria that he didn’t think would ever be in his future anymore. And now… Now he was in another argument. Another relationship falling to complete shit right in front of his eyes.

“You’re above the grit and grime of those like him. Like me. Is that it?”

“You’re nothing like—”

All his words cut off in an instant. The lit fuse finally hit the bomb, and he was at ground zero of her explosion.

“You don’t know me! And you don’t know him! You know nothing but how to be a pretentious ass!”

With a forceful kick, a few of the fallen items scattered out of her path, and she practically ripped the door handle from its place.

“Fuck all the way off, Harold. And that’s not affectionate this time.”

Zach:

"When I was walking back, there were two men outside our rooms. I think they were looking for Lloyd, but he switched with Nick and Steph. They didn’t want to risk it and said they'd ask you for clarification later. Wasn’t an immediate concern, so I guess I just, went to sleep and forgot."

"You forgot?"

"There has been a lot going on here, you know!"

As soon as he said it, he felt it. Too harsh, too defensive. It was an old Harold reaction to a new Harold situation.

But he couldn't take it back.

"Fuck! Zach and Alex. Any fucking money…"

She stood up quickly, and started to gather up her things.

"I'm sorry… I—"

"You fucked up, Harold. Lloyd's a human. We deal in supernatural. If they're coming for him, shit is going south now. Not soon, not shortly. Now Harold. Fuck…"

Zone:

(Resisting the urge to use ‘Boulder Free Zone’. Much like Ziva for you, it feels too easy. Wrote that too many times to count. Hell, it's the name of my home wifi for fucks sake 😂)

“Can you please at least pretend you understand the urgency in this?!”

The smartass smirk graced his features again, and she turned back around with a huff. As she opened her mouth to further express her agitation, a loud buzzing cut off her train of thought while drowning out everything else around them.

"Oh fuck…. See! Urgency! Come-on, we gotta go before—"

And she didn't need to finish her statement as a metal barrier formed around the door in front of them.

Lockdown protocol went through stages by zones. Cells obviously had a top priority, with a descending order based on potential threat. Max security down to holding cells. This would make getting down to the other end of the containment area almost impossible. But they may still be able to get out on the ground floor.

"...shit… Okay, new plan. This way!"

Zeke:

“Shit! Did you say Zeke?” Perimeter sweep complete, Gwen came up to join them with concern on her face. “Motherfucker…”

Gwen wasn’t the only one to recognize the name. It didn’t surprise Hayden that this was the lowlife POS vampire that was next to sign up after Gwen destroyed their original plan. He was always a problem case they could never pin down. One she wouldn’t have had a problem watching the Institute come down hard on. He served as a prime example of why the organization began in the first place.

Nick however had no prior knowledge available, and his signed confusion was understandable.

‘Who’s that?’

“A goddamn thorn in my side that refuses to leave well enough alone. One that is not going to play nice with your friends. I… I should have taken care of the problem decades ago, but… I’m sorry. I should be dealing with him, not you.”

Bonus - Zen

(I’m a damn liar!! I did have one instance of zen. In the last section, of the last chapter. Super short because well, yeah.)

The trickle of water from the nearby fountain worked as white noise against the sounds of the Academy. Warmth from the fireplace lulled her into a state of relaxation. And extra fluffy pillows on the floor were the final touch for a true state of zen.

[simplythgirl]

Legendborn book review

I read this book because it's been recommended everywhere and I really love YA plus it's been a hot second since I read fantasy. Lastly I'm trying to diversify my reads and this fit well ^.^ I'm not really its intended audience since I'm not a young adult exactly but I really loved it ❤️

What I liked

Bree is super relatable and sweet but won't let anyone walk all over her. She's a strong character and I really loved going through her journey with her. I'm not African American but I'm not white either so I related to her in my own way as a latina. The latino community along with other poc have similar but different experiences with marginalization. I really liked the way the book shed light on that. The history behind the Arthurian legends is super white so I love that the author calls that out. I study English literature it's what my degree is in and I'm so exhausted by how saturated literature is with Eurocentralisn so I got really giddy that the author called this out and I was more willing to read it because it gives the impression Tracy Deonn will do something different and all her own with the Authorian legends and she does!!!

I'm not a huge fan on Arthurian Legend and I really thought that would kill the book for me but the author eases readers into it well. At times it goes a little too quick so I had to Google it but overall it was good. Pacing of the overall story was done pretty well too. The fighting descriptions and descriptions of the monsters, creatures, etc is pretty vivid. The characters (for the most part) are pretty diverse and fun and there's lots of LGBTQIA+ representation which I loved as a queer person.

The grief Bree experiences is portrayed so well. I love the confusion, denial, hurt, and sense of loss she feels it really made me sympathize with her and reflect on my own loss. Honestly, I think I cried. The way the author developed Bree with this grief is amazing.

The ending with the reveal regarding the Authorian legends and the scions was my favorite part. I won't spoil it.

Some things I didn't like

The biggest one for me is *drum rolllllllllllll*

Nick

Feel free to rip my head off for this but Nick is just not a fun or well developed character. Maybe it's my bias towards him for being a priviledged white guy with "charm"? I'll give a little leverage to him for that I guess. The cute romantic moments between him and Bree are cute(I won't lie, I blushed at some moments lol) but Nick seems like a flat character with little personality. His problems seem so trivial it makes me like him a lot less. The charm doesn't land well too often for me. He's very Mary sue. Maybe it's because he spends so much time with Bree that it makes him seem flat compared to her? I'm not sure honestly.

CON There are too many characters

There are so many characters that I had to reread it or use Google and that made it hard to feel attached to them. When you're establishing a world for the first time readers will focus more on the world than trying to remember several characters so it became daunting and more effort than it was worth.

*INCOMING SPOILER*

*INCOMING SPOILER*

Going off the too many characters point.

When Fitz dies I didn't care too much because again there were too many characters I couldn't wrap my mind around each one. I felt for Evan but not too much since again I feel like I hardly knew these characters. It makes the grief the characters experiencie kinda mid and I just kind of flipped through those parts. Bree's grief about her mom is powerful because the memories we are shown, the personality described, and the mom title she holds. The other characters are not too developed so it's just not a powerful sense of loss for readers. This was like the Percy Jackson series which I have the same complaints about.

CON: The love triangle

Sel is annoying at first he's untrusting, pessimistic, and sometimes antagonistic, but later we see his attitude is rightfully earned. He quickly becomes a loveable character and he falls for Bree. I actually think I like this better than BreexNick but I think Sel and Bree's interest with each other is subtle then hits full force out of nowhere towards the end which doesn't sit too well for me. Sel was also crushing on Nick but Nick didn't recipricate so it makes this a true love triangle since it seems that we currently don't know Sel's feelings towards Nick.

YA is always adding these love triangle and it's just so overused I find myself rolling my eyes when authors do this. I was really hoping this book wouldn't go down that route but here we are.

END OF SPOILERS*

Those are the last of the spoilers.

Recap(if you're still here lol)

4/5 stars.

I really recommend this book if you like fantasy and YA. If you're looking for fantasy with queer rep check this out ❤️ there are a lot of profound statements and experiences through a POC lens which is great. If you're going through grief and need a hug this book will give it to you and help you too. If you like cutesy romance this book has that too.

[ashidominasimp]

I saw this idea on my dash a while back, and I had to write something abt it. So: Kirishima doing Bakugou's eyeliner.

-

Bakugou wore eyeliner under his mask, to hide the skin that showed whenever it shifted. He wasn't particularly good at it, and frankly he didn't care. It didn't have to look good, it just had to do its job. However, despite his flippancy towards the practice, application was almost always an intentionally private affair, one that took place in a bathroom stall or changing room, with a handheld compact mirror.

The act made him vulnerable, for some reason, and he hated that feeling, as those who knew him were all too well aware of. So he, well... he hid. He hated the openness that creeped to him, the stealing away of sheltered safety. It was the same feeling that was currently threatening to crawl up his spine as he made his way out of the bathroom, eyeliner and pride in hand.

He’d tried to put the eyeliner on as usual, but an intense session of quirk training the day prior had left his arms shaky and unstable. As much as he loathed asking for help, he supposed it was better than a liner pen in the eye.

He sauntered out of the bathroom towards Kirishima, trying to look as confident as ever, in spite of the uncertainty he felt at what he was about to do. Kirishima, oblivious to Bakugou's inner conflict, was in the midst of the unnecessarily tricky process of securing his sleeves to his shoulder guards. Why he wore that stupid shit, Bakugou will never understand why hide those beautiful arms?

As he approached, Bakugou couldn't help but notice the way his muscles looked when twisted in the manner he was. He was reaching back to hook the clasp near his shoulder blade, causing the tight, corded muscle of his abs and lats to stretch taut. Bakugou quietly noted the image in front of him, filing it away for later fantasizing consideration.

"Oi, shitty hair!" Kirishima looked up at the sound of his nickname, securing the last clasp and shutting his locker door.

"Hey, man, what's up?" Kirishima’s voice, as steady as ever, helped to calm some of Bakugou’s nerves.

“I… I need your help,” The words were whispered, Bakugou’s eyes flicking to the side to avoid Krishima’s. When he looked back, Kirishima’s already radiant smile had brightened even further.

“Of course, man, whatever you need!” Kiri knew Bakugou well enough, now, to know how rare such a request was.

Bakugou sighed, taking a moment to figure how to voice what he needed without sounding utterly stupid, before quickly coming to the conclusion that no such solution was possible. He figured the best course of action would be to just say it outright, rip the bandaid off and get it over with.

“I need you to do my eyeliner,” he said, as deadpan as possible, holding up the pencil fisted in his hand. He could feel the heat rising into his cheeks, but he chose to ignore the sensation, a decision helped by the fact Kirishima was clearly suffering from the same effect. His cheeks seemed to be trying to compete with his hair for the brightest shade of red (adorable).

To his credit, Kirishima had little other reaction to the request, he didn’t question a thing before reaching out to take the pencil from his hand. He placed a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder to direct him to a nearby bench. He placed his fingers under Bakugou’s chin, gently tilting him up to look the standing red-head in the eye. Kirishima’s fingers, so soft on his face, felt like fire, warm and comforting, dangerous and enticing, and Bakugou was suddenly all at once very regretful and very glad for his decision to ask Kiri for help. It took every bit of self-control he had to keep his face grumpily impassive.

“Just so you know, man, I haven’t done this in years. It’ll probably look like shit,” he laughed.

Bakugou was grunting in dismissive acknowledgment before he had time to fully process just what Kirishima was implying. I haven’t done this in years. Oh?

“You’ve done this before?”

Kirishima hesitated and flushed slightly, like he had been hoping Bakugou wouldn’t pick up on it.

“Uh, yeah, I wore eyeliner for a while in my second year of junior high.” He placed his hand on Bakugou’s cheekbone, thumbing his eyelid closed and beginning to draw on the liner. “Mina calls it my ‘emo phase’. I guess she’s not wrong.” His tone was light-hearted and clearly embarrassed, a nervous smile splayed across his face that Bakugou just barely caught through his squinted eyes. It was an emotion Bakugou had rarely seen in him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

The next few minutes passed in silence, in which Kiri switched his hand to Bakugou’s brow-bone on the opposite side of his face to complete his work. In the dip in their conversation, the sounds of the world around them faded back in. He hadn’t even realized they had faded out, but he was suddenly very aware that he and Kirishima were still very much in the middle of the boys locker room, and that there were 12 extras who now knew about this particular quirk of his daily routine.

He could hear the murmurs and questioning hums, knowing there were probably more than a few pairs of eyes on them. It should’ve pissed him off, he should be screaming at them to mind their own goddamn business. Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to care. The hands on his face and the warm breath against his forehead stubbornly shoved any anger from his being.

Kiri finished the eyeliner and Bakugou pulled his mask from his back pocket. He reached up to fasten it, but firm, calloused hands stopped him. Kiri pulled the mask from him, reaching out to attach it himself. He tied the knot in the back, and rested his hands around Bakugou’s neck. Bakugou is quite sure any and all motor and mental functions have been stolen from him in the wake of this sudden intimacy.

It’s over all too soon when Kirishima pulls away, stepping back and heading towards the door.

“C’mon, man, we’re gonna be late!”

Bakugou, as quickly as possible (which, frankly, isn’t very quick in his current state), reassembles himself before marching out after his friend.

Edit: This is now posted on ao3 and currently has three chapters :)

[indigohitoshi]

through the years & tears || tendou satori (x fem!reader)

word count: 2.8k-a oneshot, his bday special <3

warnings: fluff, angst in the middle, & sexual themes mentioned :)

-you were five when you came across the park.

“excuse me?” you called, “hi, hi! do you want to play tag?”

tendou shook his head, “im waiting for my friends, it’s my birthday!” the boy beamed, “im tendou, what’s your name?” he stuck out his hand.

you smiled, shaking his, “(first and last name)! but you can call me (first name),” you grinned, “and happy birthday! can i join your party?”

“sorry, invite only,” tendou watched your face fall. you shrugged, reassuring him it was fine and went to go play in the swings.

two hours passed, your mother insisting you to head home but you told her a couple more minutes everytime. you sat at the swings, watching tendou sit patiently at the picnic table. his own mother looked nervous, wringing her hands.

“mom?” tendou didn’t look at the older woman, “no one’s coming, are they? because everyone thinks im a monster?” he felt his party hat sag.

you struck, rushing towards the table, tendou saw you and smiled. your palms pressed against the table as you leaned forward, faces inches apart, “i don’t think youre a monster!” you exclaimed, “i think you’re cute!”

-you were seven when he asked for a promise

“tendou!” you exclaimed, jumping on the swings next to him, “happy birthday!” a soft smile spread across his face as you handed him a neatly wrapped box.

“you didn’t have to get me anything, (name)!” tendou tore the paper apart, a wide grin crept up his face. a jersey, a number five printed on it, “five’s your favorite number!”

“so im there with you on the court!” you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“(name),” tendou wrapped his arms around your waist, “can i ask you for another gift?” he watched you nod, “will you let me marry you when we’re older? i don’t want to love anyone else but you!” tendou exclaimed.

“of course!” you felt him pull away so you did, too.

tendou put out his pinky, “promise?”

you wrapped your pinky around his, “i pinky promise!”

marriage was an odd concept at that age, you both simply saw innocent infatuation that the two of you wanted to last forever. there was no sense of real consequences, just adoration.

-you were thirteen when you had your first sleepover 

“ready, satori?” you watched the timer in your hand countdown slowly.

ten

nine

eight

seven

“tendou?” he looked up at you, you broke the gaze from the timer.

“yeah, what’s up?”

three

two

you took his face in your hands, pressing a quick peck against his lips as the timer sounded; it was midnight, officially tendou’s birthday. tendou pulled back, dazed, “cool! do it again!” he cheered. you giggled, pressing another soft kiss against his lips, “we really are going to get married, you know that, (name)?” tendou held your hand after the small kiss, “and we’ll have the biggest wedding! I'll show everyone you’re my wife! it’ll be great!”

“we should go back to my house before my mom notices we’re gone,” you giggled.

tendou smiled, hopping off of the swings and holding out his hand for you to grab.

-you were fifteen when you broke the news

“hey, satori,” you smiled, “happy birthday.” you sat next to him, your feet used to hang off the swings but now they sat flat on the ground.

you watched his eyes falter, “what’s wrong, babe?” pet names became common between the two of you around fourteen, a sign of comfort that you two trusted each other.

“go ahead and open your gift,” you watched him eye you down.

“aww, (name), are these promise rings?” tendou pulled the two rings out, one on a chain.

“you don’t like rings, so i made it a necklace,” you smiled softly, “satori… i didn’t get accepted into shiratorizawa.”

tendou’s face fell, “what? we’ve always been in the same class since elementary school–(name), do you want me to talk to someone?” he reached over and grabbed your hand, “we… we’ve always been together.”

“i got into karasuno,” you felt tendou tug at the sleeve of your hoodie, meaning to move closer.

“i told you to study,” tendou felt you settle in his lap. he rested his chin on your shoulder, “…will you come and visit me?” tendou felt you nod, “give me your hand.” you shifted so he could grab your hand without making your arm hurt. he placed the ring on your left hand, “we’re still going to get married, (name), we promised.” tendou smiled up at you, kissing the ring lightly.

-you were sixteen when you went to one of his games

“ushijima,” you whispered.

ushijima nodded, walking towards you, “it’s nice to meet you, (name), satori talks a lot about you.” he lead you up to the family stands so you had a better view. no one questioned him even though he was a first year, he was strong.

“weird he has a game on his birthday,” you sighed, “i wish we were at the park.”

“he says that’s where you two met,” ushijima hesitated, “he says youre his wife.”

you choked on your yakult, “he calls me his what?”

“i must go, but im sure he’ll be glad you’re here with him as support,” ushijima didn’t think twice as he left you in the stands. you sat, ‘his wife? that was a joke when we were kids, but we’re in high school now-i have a boyfriend, now.’ you thought. you brushed the ideas aside, you were being dumb. tendou’s always been affection, so maybe it was simply one of those times.

“SATORI!” you cried from the stands, a large number five painted on your cheek. he looked up at the stands, seeing you made him swell with pride.

“hey, semisemi, that’s my wife, you see her-goshiki! that’s my wife!” tendou waved at you which he was not supposed to do. he reached below his jersey, the ring dangling on the flimsy chain. he smiled and tucked it back in. that night, every block he made was for you, all the effort and sweat was for you. the way you cheered kept him going.

tendou looked up and there was another boy, his hands on your waist pressing a kiss to your cheek. his attention was stolen from him to this new guy.

“satori?” you called into the park, “you left right after your game! I brought you your gif-”

“we’re supposed to get married,” tendou looked at you, “who was he.”

“his name is daichi, he’s a first year like us.” you scoffed, “are you jealous, tendou?”

“...tendou, weird, it used to be-”

“don’t finish that sentence,” you two had never fought before, it was weird, foreign. there was this tension in the air, you always held a silver tongue but backed off because this was your best friend.

“you pinky promised.”

“we were seven!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air, “we were kids, tendou. this isn’t some elementary school game.”

“your ring,” tendou motioned to the naked hand, “where is it?”

“I stopped wearing it.”

“why?”

“tendou,” you spoke angrily, “we were kids.”

tendou hummed, reaching below his jersey and ripping off the necklace. you felt your heartstrings tear as the chain shattered. you wanted to cry, take it back and admit the ring was in your back pocket, you just didn’t want daichi to think you were dating tendou.

instead, you scoffed, throwing the gift to the ground, “happy fucking birthday, tendou.” you had tears in your eyes, wiping them away quickly and turning around. there in the bag, sat chocolate ice cream with freezer packs and a new copy of the weekly shonen jump. you were going to let him finally teach you about it, no matter how bored you got.

-you were seventeen when the park was empty

a year, a year with little to no contact with tendou. it got back to last name basis, but surely, he would be here. this park, this swing set was where you’d always meet for his birthday, rain or shine. you had traveled an hour and a half here, just to see him, to talk to him.

“thirteen years,” you mumbled, dropped his gift on the swings, “we’ve been coming to this fucking spot for thirteen years and he doesn’t come because I broke a pinky promise a year ago?” you yelled at nothingness. you’d waited for hours, it was already dark, about ten at night. you’d arrived when the sun was setting.

a small repaired chain sat in the small box, the ring already attached to it. tears pricked in your eyes as you placed it on the swings.

-you were eighteen when you saw him again

“hey, you guys are doing great!” you cheered on your team. your now ex-boyfriend gave you a thumbs up. yachi watched from the stands above, “looks like they’re running lat-” you mumbled, but stopped as the doors parted open.

tendou satori stood in all his glory, walking with the grand team. you looked up for a split second before lowering your gaze. he looked good. after the fight since first year, he seemed to delete you from his memories. no more phone calls, texts, nothing. your mother and his continued to talk, saying you should go over for dinner but you politely declined. your excuse was it was too far, which wasn’t really a lie, it took about and hour and half.

“satori,” ushijima whispered, “isn’t that (name)?”

“i guess,” tendou shrugged, “guess she has a new boyfriend, maybe two.”

nishinoya jumped around her, grinning as he asked for reassurance. tanaka watched you smile at nishinoya’s antics and his eyes looked as if they held stars, “good luck, guys!” you exclaimed, “and tsukki–remember you’re doing great!”

you and tendou’s eyes met, you mouthed a soft happy birthday before looking away and speaking to ukai. when you turned, tendou noticed the ring sitting on your left hand. at first he froze, did you actually marry someone else? you’re a third year, (name). he thought, but squinted to peep it was the ring you had given him when you were fifteen. a tiny grin fell on his face, “that’s my good girl.”

“hey, (name)!” tendou sang on the court. you looked up thinking it was one of yours “kids” but seeing tendou wave, “this game is for you!” he pulled the chain tucked under his jersey.

“you’re still wearing that?” semi rolled his eyes.

“don’t be so mean, semisemi!” tendou pouted, “she is my wife after all.”

your eyes widened, it’s been two years. two years since tendou decided to greet you as anything other than your last name. it made you angry and excited because you missed him. through the years and tears, nothing had ever split you two apart for that long.

each block tendou made, or kill ushijima scored, tendou would look and wave at you. every smile melted your anger and you found yourself rooting for shiratorizawa, ukai sending you a curious look as you jumped when tendou would make a correct guess.

as the game came to a end, a silence fell over the court, “SHOYO!” you cried and ran up to the small boy, wrapping your arms around his neck. you choked on your sobs, after three years, you guys were going to nationals.

tendou’s half smile laced across his face, ducking under the net and grabbing you from the group, arms around your waist.

“satori!” you pressed you hand against your mouth, “sorry… first name-”

“it’s okay,” tendou smiled at you, “it’s okay, don’t worry your pretty face. im sorry, and i want to talk,” he put you down, “are you free today?”

you smiled, “let me call my mom.”

on the phone, your mother squealed, repeating ‘yes, yes, yes!’ for minutes straight before you laughed and hung up. “ukai,” a nervouse stance took over your body, “i have to take care of something here, i have to stay behind.”

ukai glanced at tendou who sent a goofy smile to the two of you, he rolled his eyes, “that your boyfriend?”

“husband.”

ukai’s eyes widened, “…i’ll never understand you, (name).” he sighed, “go ahead.”

“where’s (name) going?” daichi watched you leap into tendou’s arms, noticing you never smiled that hard when you two dated in first year.

“meeting her husband, i guess.”

tendou gripped your hand, rushing you upstairs to the dorm, “im going to shower! feel free to tell ushijima to fuck off out of the dorm since it is my birthday.” he giddily grabbed a towel and ushijima walked in afterwards.

“oh, my apologies,” ushijima started to gather a couple of things.

“hey-ushijima, right?” you played with your fingers as you sat on the bed, “did he talk about me?”

ushijima paused, “he cut you off because he was scared of how you thought of him. he was afraid he wasn’t enough for you because you broke your promise, and maybe thought you were starting to see him as a monster. you know how he is,” ushijima held his gaze with you, “you should marry him. he loves you more than volleyball. every year we offer to change numbers on jerseys, even after you two stopped being friends, he refused.”

you wiped tears from your eyes, “thank you, ushijima.”

“you can call me wakatoshi,” he nodded, leaving the dorm.

an excited tendou rushed through the door, a towel around his waist. blood rushed to your face, “satori!”

“can i talk about shonen jump?! that’s what we were going to do last birthday we celebrated together!” he leapt, “after i give you an explination, of course. i missed you! i missed you a lot,” tendou jumped around like a happy puppy, “and i don’t even care if you have a boyfriend-! or girlfriend, it you started to swing that way! i missed you,” he repeated.

you laid on the bed, “i haven’t dated anyone since daichi.”

“ohh? but a pretty girl like you should have people crawling at her feet,” tendou pulled on boxers under the towel and pants over.

“didn’t say i didn’t,” you teased, “but they’re not you.” you mumbled.

tendou raised an eyebrow, “what do you mean?”

“i mean i always hoped we’d be friends again, but maybe not friends, you know? after we stopped, i cried–i felt it was my fault. but ushijima told me your side, it was a lack of communicatio-”

tendou cut you off, pressing a kiss to your lips, “it was my fault,” he whispered when the two of you pulled away, “i cut you off because i love you, i’ve loved you since you thought i was cute and not some monster. i couldn’t bear the thought of you cutting me off, so i did it first.” he brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes, “i thought you simply weren’t going to come back to me, im sorry.”

you smiled, “i’d always come back to you.”

tendou sat next you, you grinned, “hey–that was cool.”

“what was?”

“the kiss, do it again,” you watched his stupid smile return. he pulled you in his lap, trailing kisses down your cheek to your neck.

“i love you, too.”

-you were twenty two when you had your wedding.

it was the night after the wedding. you had barely changed and you and tendou sat at a picnic table, “do you still like me?” tendou glanced up at you, his head resting on your shoulder.

you understood all the weird looks you two had gotten, it was eleven at night and you were in a wedding gown and tendou was in a tuxedo.

“baby, we’re married.”

“yeah but–you know,” tendou chuckled, “doesn’t mean you like me.”

“...satori,” you rolled your eyes, “no, i don’t like you.”

tendou frowned, “it was a joke–”

“i love you!” you cut him off, cupping his face in his your hands and peppering kisses across his face. tendou grinned at your giggles as he did the same.

“you could’ve thought i was monster,” tendou stopped, “why did you call me cute?”

“i just thought you were, little five year old me was taught to always take opporunities, so i took one to talk to you. a lot of people didn’t talk go me, but you did, you acknowledged that fact i wanted to play tag instead of ignoring me,” you smiled, “kids called me antisocial, closed off, shy, but you… i was drawn to you.”

“some soulmate shit,” tendou smiled.

“hey, look!” you unlocked your phone, “it’s midnight!”

tendou smiled, giving you a quick kiss on your cheek, “it is, isn’t it?”

“happy birthday,” you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“thank you, my love,” tendou burried himself into his neck, “i wouldn’t want to spend it with anyone else.”

[kaalamarii]

Kinktober Day 3

BeelzebubxFemMC 

(I know I usually do gn but I thought this worked better as fem)

Shower Sex && (kind of) sthenolagnia 🖤

NSFW!!!! 18+

MC was practically drooling as she watched Beelzebub sitting at the lat machine, lifting an impressive amount of weight, the muscles in his arms and back flexing deliciously. Sweat dripped down his handsome face and MC watched as it trickled down his neck and shoulder. He looked up at her and gave her a sweet smile. 

“Aren’t you going to work out?” he asked.

“I already did.”

“You walked on the treadmill for a few minutes. You don’t want to do anything else?”

You.

MC shrugged. “Yeah, I’m more here to hang out.”

Beel finished his rep and stood, reaching out to grab the towel hanging off the machine. He wiped his face and neck off and threw it over his shoulder. MC took advantage of him not being able to see her and checked him out, eyes traveling from his pecs to his abs to the bulge in his shorts. Feeling hot, she turned away to pretend to take a drink from their water bottle.

“I do enjoy hanging out with you,” Beel told her with another smile. “Wanna sit on my back while I do push ups?”

“O-okay,” MC agreed a bit too quickly, more than excited to get close with the gluttonous demon. 

Beelzebub crouched to the floor, straightening out into position and MC made her way over. She held onto his shoulder to steady herself as she swung a leg over him, straddling his hips. Hesitating for a moment, she ghosted her hands at his sides.

“You can hold on to me if you want,” he reassured her, looking up at her from the mirror in front of them.

MC swallowed the nervous lump in her throat before nodding, resting her hands on his sides. 

He was careful, taking care not to throw her around as he moved up and down. It wasn’t sexual, but it still felt intimate to MC, and she couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed having her legs around him like this, skin to skin with the demon. He didn’t seem all that bothered by it, but actually, Beelzebub was all too aware of the closeness. His skin tingled under her hands, and her legs were soft and smooth against his hips. 

Beel pushed up, looking into the mirror to ponder over her. She really was beautiful, he thought. He smiled, thinking of how close they had gotten. He didn’t even want to eat her. 

Maybe in a different way. 

Beel turned red at the thought, and suddenly he was hit with the realization that her crotch was against him, and that if he turned around they’d be almost hip to hip. He looked away from the mirror, training his focus toward the floor instead. 

He pushed himself up a bit too quickly and MC let out a small yelp as she lost her balance, and tumbled backwards. Beel moved quickly, jumping to his feet and turning to catch the human. She looked up at him, amazed and slightly confused.

“Thanks,” she whispered, setting her sights on the strong arms around her. Her gaze moved up to his face, taking in his handsome features. 

Beel looked down at her, something in his eyes that she had never seen before. It was similar to the expression he got when he saw food yet different. His cheeks turned a light shade of pink. “MC?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

MC let out a quiet gasp and her eyes widened a bit. “Y-yes.”

Beel dipped down, pressing his lips gently on hers. His blush grew a darker shade as MC reached up to rest her hand on the back of his head, keeping him on her. He swiped his tongue against her lips, begging entrance, which she quickly obliged, opening her mouth to let him in. She moved her head to the side to allow him to deepen the kiss, and he took advantage, his tongue massaging hers. 

MC moved her fingertips gingerly up and down his chest and stomach, stopping at the waistband of his shorts. He broke apart from her, standing up straight and letting go of her. She frowned as his arms left her body. 

“I’m sorry if I went too far…”

“You didn’t,” Beel replied, shaking his head. “I want to continue, but I need a shower.”

“Oh, right,” MC said with a chuckle.

“Do you want to shower with me, MC?”

She bit her lip, nodding. “I’d like that.”

Beel grinned, lifting her up and tossing her over his shoulder, and MC felt a jolt of excitement running through her body.

Beel wasted no time as they got into the showers, reaching a hand in to turn on the water as he used his other hand to drop MC from his shoulders to his waist, pressing her against the cold tiled wall and crashing his mouth onto hers once more. MC wrapped her legs around him as he toyed with the hem of her shirt, pulling away from her only to lift it over her head. He kissed down to her jaw, leaving a trail of pecks to her chest. He took one of her nipples in his mouth, lightly biting down before swiping his tongue across it. He went to the other one, repeating his movements. 

Beel lifted her up even further until he was face to face with her most sensitive areas. He looked up at her. “I want to taste you.”

MC nodded. “Yes, Beel. Please…”

He shocked her when he gripped the top of her shorts with his teeth, ripping them off of her and spitting them out onto the shower floor. Beel wasted no time diving in, pointed tongue teasing her swollen clit. He had to fight the urge to bite down as he dipped into her folds, the taste of her sweet and sticky like honey.

 MC’s head rolled back to rest against the wall and she let out a low moan at the demon’s talented mouth. Beel knew he was doing, that’s for sure. And he was more than eager, mouth sloppy and face messy with her juices as he ate her out. MC’s thighs tightened around his head, squeezing as her body shook with a violent orgasm. His mouth continued, and he didn’t seem fazed as her hands ran through his hair, pulling roughly as she thrashed around, riding his face as she came.

Out of all the things he had ever eaten, he could’ve sworn nothing tasted as good as she did. Beel could never tell her exactly how gluttonous she made him feel. How just like with food, the more he got of her, the more he wanted. It was never enough, and he himself feared for a moment that he wouldn’t be able to stop, taking her until her fragile human body was completely destroyed. He was grateful for the small amount of angel left in him, the gentle side of him that let his love for her take over instead of his gluttony.

Still, he was so enamored with licking her that she had to give him a slight smack to his arm. “Beel, it’s too sensitive right now. You gotta stop.”

He looked at her, blinking as he considered her words. He nodded, helping her back down to his waist, where his hard cock was ready and waiting for her. MC was nervous at the feel of it, wondering how much of him she’d actually be able to take. Beelzebub sensed her apprehension. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want.”

“I do want to. You’re just…”

Beel frowned. “I’m what?”

“So...BIG.”

His frown quickly turned to a smirk. He turned her around so she was facing away from him and gently bit down on her shoulder. “I’ll be gentle.”

MC nodded and shut her eyes as he slowly pushed into her. He paused for a moment, watching her face, waiting patiently for her to get used to the feeling of him inside her. He lightly pinched her clit between his fingers, rolling it. She moaned, her body moving against him and taking even more of him in. Beel grabbed the shower head from the wall and pressed it against her. 

The water pressure was a shock at first but she quickly felt pleasure in it, her hips moving to get more of it and more of Beel. He continued holding the shower head to her as he thrusted into her, stretching her out more and more until she was filled to the brim. The head of his cock rubbed against her cervix, sending a pleasurable pain through her. 

“You alright?” he asked her.

“Yes, fuck yes.”

He grinned at her swearing. 

“Harder,” she whimpered and he obliged, his thrusts getting more intense. His sin was starting to take over and he upped the water pressure. The small jets beat against her clit roughly and between that and being so full of Beel’s cock, MC knew she wouldn’t last long.

She called out his name loudly, her eyes rolling back in her head as she came on his large cock. The shower head was quickly forgotten as Beel dropped it to the floor, putting his arms on her shoulders to keep her on him as he felt his own dam break. 

Beel moaned out loud as he came, shooting large hot loads into her. 

As they finished, Beel gently set her down. Now blushing as he picked up the shower head and replaced it, he was a stark contrast from the demon she had seen just a moment ago.

“I hope that was good for you,” he said, looking at her hopefully.

“That was fucking amazing,” MC replied with a laugh, pulling the demon down to kiss him.

“I guess we need to shower for real now,” Beel said with a smile, “I’ll wash you.”

He was so gentle as he soaped up her body, massaging her sore muscles and kissing the small bruises he left behind.

“You wanna go to Hell’s kitchen?” MC asked as he shampooed her hair.

“You know what? I’m actually not hungry right now.”

My Masterlist

[modecaisnow]

Fitness Roommates

**This story contains topics suitable for 18 YEARS OR OLDER! Read at your own digression. This story contains themes of realistic(ish) weight gain (ie. 150 pounds – 800), mentions of challenges being overweight. This story is 3360 words, and 6 pages long, was gonna be part 1+2. This was a story I had saved for a bit. ENJOY!**

[This story follows Tyler and Zach, a dynamic duo of health and fitness. Zach, a bodybuilder with all the know how of exercise, and Tyler, a healthy and fit nutritionist, have teamed up and opened a business together. However, their business has gotten slow and not as many people are getting memberships anymore. As a marketing experiment, Tyler agrees to pack on some weight with the ultimate plan to lose it all following their dieting and exercise plan. But, it turns out gaining weight is a little more enjoyable than Tyler expected.]

Zach and Tyler have been friends for years. They first met in their freshman year of college, and Zach and Tyler were both fitness buffs. Their bodies were toned with dense muscles, but Zach was much larger. Zachary studied Athletic Training and Tyler studied Nutrition over the years. After 4 years of college, they decided to open a gym together and become business partners. Zach would help train people and show them how to exercise, and Tyler would teach them about nutrition. However, a couple of years later things have changed. Zach walked into the living room of their apartment. His face was akin to a greek god – high cheekbones, square jawline, and a strong nose. He was a tall, tan-skinned, with a body covered in rippling muscles. From his thick neck and massive traps to his softball-sized calves, which everyone used to tease him and call them ‘steers’, Zach was the personified ideal of fitness. His broad shoulders and flared out lats created the classic ‘V’ shape all bodybuilders aspired to get. His arms were absolutely massive, with cannonball-sized biceps, horseshoe triceps, and forearms that were as large as a normal man’s biceps. Zach’s torso and legs were just as impressive. His barrel chest must’ve been 60 inches and was covered in brown hairs. Beneath his meaty pillows that were his pecs was a wall of abs that looked like bricks. A dark trail of hairs led down his carved abs and into his boxers, which were being stretched from both ends. Zach was blessed with large junk in the front and a lot of junk in the trunk. His bubble butt was made of pure steel and bounced along everywhere he walked. Further down were two thick quads with equally powerful hamstrings. Bellow the knees were the most well defined and muscular looking calves anyone has ever seen. Tyler, on the other hand, was not nearly as much of a ‘greek god’ as Zach. He was very toned, but also on the skinny side. His face was square with a pointed chin and a sloped nose. His hair was cut short, and he didn’t have much facial hair. Being a nutritionist, he knew all the ins and outs of healthy eating and dieting. He was part of the reason why Zach looks the way he looks. He kept Zach on his meal plan. Tyler has helped countless gym-goers reach their goals faster and easier with the help of his dieting plans. Tyler looked up at Zach. He stood in his boxers in front of the TV, blocking his view of it. Zach crossed his arms, causing his large slabs of chest meat to squeeze together. Tyler grabbed the remote and turned the TV off. “Is everything okay, man?” Tyler asked. “We have to talk about business.” “What’s up?” “It’s been slow recently-“ “-Yeah-“ “-and I have an idea,” Zach sat down on the brown, cloth couch next to Tyler. Zach widened his eyes and tried to look innocent. “Well, …what’s the idea?” “Well, bro, what if we have an experiment where one of us puts on some weight, and then we both work together to try and get that person back to a healthy weight?” “That might be good, but it might take too long. We need people to join now, not after months of gaining and months of losing weight.” “Well, with our expertise, we’ll be able to lose the weight pretty quickly,” Zach snickered. “Also, I’m sure you know of some quick weight gain techniques.” “I mean…I guess,” We both sat there quietly for a moment. Zach continued to stare deeply into Tyler's eyes. “So…do you want me to put on the weight?” Tyler hesitantly ask. “…Do you mind?” “I mean…I guess…” Zach jumped up. His face brightened up and he fist pumped into the air. The two immediately started to plan out how this would work, and Tyler got to work researching foods and gaining techniques. He started planning out a grocery list filled with unhealthy fats, carbs, protein, sugars, as well as a plan for minimal movement for himself. Zach started to create exercise plans so when Tyler finishes putting on the weight they’ll be all set to take off the pounds. Before starting it all, Tyler stepped up on the scale to take the initial weight. He was 154 pounds. At first, gaining was an awkward feeling. Tyler’s flat abs slowly started to look more and more like a gut. He was continuously shoveling food into his mouth, even while at work. It made it difficult to work with new patients, given that their nutritionist was eating junk food, and had a little bit of a belly while trying to give tips on staying healthy. After explaining the experiment to every single patient, they all seemed to understand. After the first week of constant binging, eating even while Tyler was stuffed in order to expand his tank of a gut, he had managed to pack on 15 pounds. His flat wall of abs had officially become a rounded, flabby belly. When he sat down, it would flop over the waistband of his pants. Tyler’s hips were stretching his pants to their max. The waistband would dig into his hips, and his thighs actually ripped the seams of one of his favorite pair of pants. And still, Tyler continued to gain weight. He added more meals into his daily diet and doubled the serving sizes. Tyler added two snacks between meals, as well as a “weight gain” shake between snacking. All this food, along with his restricted movement, helped him gain weight exponentially. Tyler’s face was looking rounder and fuller. His arms were softer and would stretch the sleeves of his tightening shirts. The once toned chest started to sag down over his belly, which was spilling down lower and lower towards his crotch. Even his pubic area was softer – a layer of fat was forming and starting to creep towards his junk. Everything about Tyler was getting flabbier. This continued for weeks. Tyler had to expand his entire wardrobe. One day, when he went to sit down, his shorts gave in and ripped all the way down his ass cheeks. From that day on, Tyler only wore stretchy pants – no more khakis, or dress pants, just the stretchy kind. His shirts also went from XL to XXL, and then just as quickly to XXXL. Tyler was officially 330 pounds. His chest continued to sag lower and lower as his belly continued to get larger and larger. Tyler had patients who were as large and some who were much, much larger, and they used to tell him what it was like to be big. However, now he lived it. The sagging breasts slid and rolled over his belly, which seemed to weigh him down. As Tyler walked, he needed to lean back a little bit so his substantial belly wouldn’t pull him down to the ground. Even sitting in chairs, which now had to not have armrests so his hips could fit, he needed to slouch and lean back so his belly could spill over his lap. It was quite the feeling. After a while, Tyler started to like it. It felt nice to be big, but he didn’t feel big enough yet. Zach asked him if he was ready to start their little experiment. Tyler told him that he wasn’t ready, and Tyler asked for a couple more weeks – business picked up anyway since it was about a month away from New Years. Tyler continued shoveling fattening treats into his mouth. Serving sizes became even larger, he went from 6 meals a day to 9, and he started doubling the size of the gainer shakes. This was to help break out of his weight plateau. His arms started to feel even heavier, and Tyler’s thighs always brushed against each other. His feet also started to get fatter, to the point where he needed to purchase ‘wide-fit’ shoes. At night, he would slouch on the sofa, which started to feel slightly smaller, and he would balance a 60ounce cup of soda on the crest of his soft belly, and slurp it down. All while lazily watching whatever was on TV. After chugging the entire soda, Tyler would rub his belly to help with all the bubbles. His blubber was warm and malleable. He could no longer see his belly button, or feet as a matter of fact, but Tyler could still poke a finger in the deepening cave that was his belly button. When he waddled onto the scale, it showed he was about 423 pounds. Eating only got easier and easier as the holidays came. Zach and Tyler usually went their separate ways to see their respective families, since Zach’s are out west, and Tyler’s are up north, but this season they had decided to just relax and focus on the experiment. Tyler continued to bloat up and shovel food into his face, and now that holiday cookies were out and on sale, he made it his goal to eat at least 3 boxes of cookies a day. Zach would tease him and say that Tyler surpassed ‘Santa-size,’ and Tyler laughed along with him. Deep down, he was excited to see how far he could push this. Tyler’s neck had officially disappeared into the fat on his shoulders and chins after a couple days of gorging. Actually, his chins were now flopping onto the crest of his flabby chest. Tyler’s moobs hung down, almost as far down as his elbows – not quite, but close. His fat arms started to feel very heavy. Despite always being hungry, after hours of grabbing for food, it started to feel like an arm workout. When sitting down, he would have to spread his legs far apart to give his substantial belly room to flop down. On the topic of his belly, a fold had started to form above his belly button, creating the double-belly look. Tyler’s belly was getting hard to contain in shirts, so instead, he started to get even larger pants to pull the waistband over it. Speaking of, Tyler’s pant sizes went up a lot faster than his shirt sizes did. He needed extra stretchy, 6XL pants in order to try to contain his growing belly. The fat over his junk also grew, making it hard to reach down there, as well as use the bathroom. However, he figured out how to manage in both areas. Tyler started to just sit on the toilet when he needed to pee, and just reach around and push his fat pad down towards the toilet bowl. Tyler also started to sleep on his side at night, it was much more comfortable, and whenever he’d need to shift his belly, Tyler could just dig a finger in his belly button like a hook, and shift it manually. After the holidays went, Tyler stepped on the scale for the first time in a few weeks. He was officially 546 pounds. Zach was proud and impressed. He asked Tyler when he would want to start buying healthy foods and start training. Tyler told him to instead buy a larger scale. Zach looked a little concerned at first, but Tyler explained that in order for them to make a bigger impact, they would need a bigger test subject. Zach eventually agreed and continued to go along with everything. He even did buy a larger scale, one that went up to 850 pounds. At this point, food became really expensive for them to afford on their own. In order to eat a meal every hour, on the hour, the two needed to dip into their company’s profit. It would be fine since it would all work out in the end. Thanks to their excellent accounting skills, Tyler was able to eat as much as he wanted, when he wanted. Tyler truly blew up in size after this. Walking became really difficult…well, if you can call it walking. It was more like a waddle. Tyler mostly spent time sitting on the couch, eating, watching TV, with the occasional trip to the fridge, or to the front door to great the delivery boy. After a while, Zach mentioned it would be best that he didn’t walk too far, so he moved the fridge into the living room, and anything else that was needed, he would get for Tyler. Tyler rarely went to the gym anymore to meet patients in person. Instead, Zach set up an online messaging system for him to reach out to their “premium” customers. That way they wouldn’t be able to be turned off by what a huge blob of lard Tyler was becoming. His ass cheeks started to take up a considerable amount of space not only on the poor little couch but in his bed as well. Tyler was just about as wide as his full-sized mattress, so Zach thought it was best to buy him a larger one. Zach was about to buy a larger sofa too but figured that he didn’t need to since he never really sat on it. Zach was rarely in the living room anyway, unless it was to drop off Tyler’s next heap of food. He was always working or working out. Shirts and pants both struggled to contain all of Tyler. Folds and rolls of flab started to ripple and slide over one another as he walked, hiccupped, or burped. His breasts had become so large that a pillow of flab had connected his moobs to the wings of back flab. This gave Tyler’s arms more support, which made it less work to shovel food into his fattening face since all he needed to do was just bend his elbow. Tyler’s cheeks were very fat and flopped down his face and onto his shoulder flab. Sweat almost constantly dripped down from his brow, and he was almost always out of breath. When Tyler finally stepped on the scale, he was up to 623 pounds. He still shoved on…well, he still shoveled more food in. At this rate, he was just eating one large, nonstop buffet of food a day. Tyler was always ordering pizzas, Chinese takeout, donuts, and delivery from every fast food joint in a 10-mile radius using those new food delivery apps on his phone. Tyler continued to gorge, slurp, and chomp down food for a few more weeks. As it got closer to the end of January, he had officially changed his wardrobe to 12XL shirts, and God only knows how many X’s for his XL sweat pant shorts. It was interesting to wear them because, with each day he grew fatter and fatter, one could see the ends of the drawstrings slowly disappear, as they were pulled deeper into the expanding stretchy waistband. As Tyler’s stomach grew so did his fupa. It became impossible for him to reach even close to his fat pad anymore. Whenever Tyler used the bathroom, it came to the point where he would have to just sit and pray that it went in. His old technique of digging into that deep belly button to shift his mound of a gut had officially been rendered impossible. Tyler couldn’t reach down that far anymore. Tyler sat on the ever-shrinking couch, with his ass cheeks spilling outward on both sides and behind him by a foot, and shoved more food into his deep mouth. His moobs had officially started to hang lower than his elbows, which were now a series of folds of flab. Tyler’s arms were incredibly flabby and even when he raised them over his head, some of the fat would still be weighing down against his torso. That massive belly of his hung down, past his knees as he leaned back. Tyler’s fat feet didn’t fit in normal shoes anymore, and Zach had to measure them to get custom made ones. Tyler was a mound of flab, and he loved every soft, wobbly inch of it. When Zach finally brought the large scale into the living room, Tyler placed his feet down and rose up off the couch. He was officially 710 pounds, and he was not quite done yet though. Tyler had one more goal he wanted to reach– to officially take up all the space on the couch. Zach, after trying to convince him that enough was enough, finally caved in and agreed to help Tyler gain even more weight. To do so, Zach raised the price of their gym membership. He told people it was for “marketing purposes,” and most people thought it was a good idea. Little did they know, it was to stuff Tyler’s fat face with food. It only took a couple weeks before he met that goal. It was hard to increase the frequency of Tyler’s feedings, so instead, he increased the amount he stuffed in at one time. Since his cheeks had bloated up, Tyler found there was more room in his mouth to hold food. As a result, he ate multiple pizza slices at once, instead of one at a time. He also would dump food in by the containers. This included containers of french fries, chicken nuggets, candy, Twinkies, devil dogs, breadsticks, bowls of pasta, you name it – Tyler just dumped it in. It must’ve been the sight to see. His downstairs neighbors hated it though. They had started to leave complaints about an “elephant” walking around, making their ceiling rattle. Tyler used that as more fuel to his fire. He continued to stomp around his apartment like the whale of a man he was, in order to get to his next source of food. The ground would groan and the couch would creak with every little shift of motion. Tyler’s folds and rolls of flab rippled and jiggled as he chewed, burped, hiccupped, scratched, pretty much any type of movement caused him to undulate like a waterbed. Tyler’s arms were extremely heavy and tremendously difficult to move. However, his insatiable desire to eat and feast gave him all the strength Tyler needed. As his hips started to finally touch the armrests of the couch, he called out for Zach. Zach was thrilled. Not only for Tyler, but also for the publicity this would get the two of them and their business. Tyler couldn’t help but smile and think about how much larger he could get. To celebrate, Zach went all out and hired caterers for the evening. That night, Tyler went all in on the food. The caterers pulled in carts, and tables of food, and set them up all around Tyler. They all circled around him, and he would eat from whichever one was in front of his fat mountain range of a body. As Tyler finished off one table, they wheeled the emptied table away, and immediately wheeled in the next one. He just ate and ate and ate all evening, until there was absolutely nothing left. Tyler probably could’ve eaten a little bit more, but his arms were incredibly tired. As the caterers all funneled out of their place, Tyler’s stomach gurgled and growled for more. He rubbed and pat his fat sides with his hands sending tiny ripples reverberating through his gelatinous form. Tyler leaned forward and moaned as he felt his heavy love handles slide against the armrests of the couch. His folds all glided against each other, and the two massive ass cheeks seemed to rise up out of the deep crater they formed in the cushions. He was massive. Zach quickly grabbed the massive scale and placed it right under Tyler’s fat feet. His massive thighs made it hard to keep his feet close enough to stand on the scale. Zach grabbed Tyler’s fat fingers and pulled him up onto his feet. Tyler’s bulky flab slid off of the couch and flopped downward. As he stood up, the scale buzzed. “What…does it…say?” Tyler huffed, out of breath from standing. “It says ‘Error.’ Damn…” Zach muttered and smiled. “What’s the…weight limit?” He wiped the sweat from his brow. “850 Pounds.” Tyler was massive…and he loved it… -THE END-

[robinrunsfiction]

My Blue Heaven

Pairing: Adam Lazzara x Reader, Gerard Way x Reader Rating: Teen Requested By: None Word Count: ~3,900 Author’s Note: Here is a short playlist (recommend you listen in order). The story is set around the Bullets/Tell All Your Friends era, but I took artistic liberties with when Frank got married to fit the storyline. Also, this is the story I referred to a few times as “the story where everyone is an asshole” sooo there’s that too...

"(YN), what are you doing here?" Frank asked as he walked into the practice space, guitar case in hand. "Isn't Taking Back Sunday rehearsing down the hall?"

(YN) rolled her eyes. "First of all, yes they are, and I would be there if it wasn't a closed rehearsal. And second, why can't I watch my favorite band in the world practice?"

"We're your favorite band?" Mikey scoffed.

"Yea because you guys actually let me hang out with you," (YN) laughed.

"If it's a closed practice, why are those other girls going in there?" Ray asked as he walked in, shutting the door behind him.

(YN) felt her heart sink and her cheeks start to burn up, but tried not to hide her feelings anyway. "I dunno, maybe it's the girl they have doing backup vocals on Bike Scene or something, I dunno.”

As (YN) stared blankly ahead lost in her thoughts, My Chemical Romance finished tuning and setting up to practice. She didn't notice Gerard watching her from where he stood in the corner quietly sipping coffee. "What do you wanna hear today, (YN)?" He asked, pulling her from her thoughts. 

"Demolition Lovers," she replied after a moment of thought, and the band started to play the song.

After the practice was complete and everyone was packing up their equipment, Gerard came and sat down next to (YN) on the couch.

"You ok?" He asked, brushing the black hair out of his eyes.

"Yea, you guys were great!"

"No, I mean about," he nodded in the direction of where the other band was rehearsing.

"Oh, it's fine, I'm not worried about it," she smiled weakly.

"Don't forget Saturday is the engagement party Jamia's family is throwing for me and her, so don't be late and dress nice, and shower," Frank announced, addressing the last point specifically at the Way brothers before leaving.

"You're gonna be there right?" Gerard asked (YN).

"Yea, we're going," she replied getting up. "I'll see you there, right?"

Gerard nodded. "Yea," he smiled up at her. (YN) held his gaze for a moment, returning the smile before turning to leave with a wave, heading straight for the exit without even glancing back at where Talking Back Sunday was rehearsing.

~

(YN) looked around the country club banquet room that was far too fancy for the majority of the crowd that was filling it. Everyone would have been much more comfortable in band tees and ripped jeans, but in celebration of Frank and Jamia even the punks that Frank was friends with wore the best outfits they could muster. 

Finally her eyes landed on her boyfriend Adam. She made her way through the crowd to the tall man keeping everyone drawn in with his expressive storytelling. “Oh hey, there’s my girl!” he said grinned when he saw (YN) approaching.

“Hey babe,” she smiled up at him.

“You’re looking beautiful tonight,” Adam complimented.

“Thanks,” (YN) replied as she smoothed her floral dress. She looked up at him expecting him to lean down and kiss her, but he kept he eyes trained on the door, only placing a quick kiss on the top of her head. “I guess I’m gonna go get a drink,” she sighed.

When she got across the room, she found the bar had a long line, but she didn’t mind the time away from Adam if he wasn’t interested in paying attention to her. She waited, absentmindedly watching the crowd until she spotted Gerard coming over to her.

“Hey!” She greeted him with a hug.

“How’s it going?” He asked when they pulled back, his hand lingering at the small of her back.

She hummed in thought, brows knitting together as she tried to find the words. “I just feel like something is bound to happen tonight, ya know?”

“What do ya mean?” Gerard asked with a laugh.

“Shit,” she muttered. “Like that.”

“What?” Gerard asked, suddenly concerned.

“That girl that Adam supposedly hooked up with just walked in. Why do we have such a small social group? And why is this line for drinks so long?” (YN) grumbled as she rolled her eyes.

“I was gonna go out for a cigarette, wanna come with?” Gerard offered.

“Yea, let’s go.”

“Do you believe that he hooked up with her?” Gerard asked when they were outside. The sun was just beginning to set and casting an orange glow over the back patio where they stood alone.

(YN) sighed and looked up at him. “Yea. And then some actually. I’ve never caught him, but I just can’t believe there would be this many rumors if they weren’t true.”

“Then why are you still with him?” Gerard asked simply before taking another drag off his cigarette.

“Wow Gee, really?”

“Yea! I mean you’ve got a lot going for you, you could do better.”

(YN) shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s like when we’re good, we’re so good. But the other, I don’t know, 90 percent of the time…” she trailed off.

“He’s got his dick in someone else.”

“Gerard!” She scolded, smacking his arm before sighing. “I don’t know what to do.”

Gerard turned toward (YN), dropping his cigarette butt on the ground and stepping on it. “I’m serious, you deserve better.”

(YN) felt like she couldn’t breathe as Gerard took another step toward her as she racked her mind for any reason why Gerard was wrong. “He thinks I’m funny.”

“You know I think you’re hilarious, I love when I get to talk to you.”

“He says I’m beautiful.”

“I think you’re beautiful too,” Gerard said softly, as he reached up and let his fingers graze over her cheek before letting them trail down to the back of her neck, his fingers running through her hair. Then he was leaning in and his lips were on hers. (YN) kissed him back like his cigarette scented kiss was the only thing keeping her alive. When she pulled back, Gerard was looking down at her and blushing.

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step back from her.

“Don’t be,” she replied looking down at the ground before looking back up at him. “I’m umm, going to go inside and get that drink now,” she said before hurrying back inside. 

(YN)’s mind was reeling. She knew she should feel guilty, she should feel bad, but kissing Gerard, letting Gerard kiss her, felt so right. And she felt like for the first time in a long time, she was almost on an even playing ground with Adam.

~

It was a couple weeks after the engagement party when (YN) found herself at a house party that a friend of a friend was throwing. My Chem had just returned from a short tour and Taking Back Sunday had just left for some shows in the south, so (YN) was excited to see some of her friends by herself. 

When she arrived, she found Ray, and they partnered up for a couple games of beer pong. Afterward they got pulled into a conversation, but the whole time she felt like someone was watching her. She glanced across the room and spotted Frank. She gave him a friendly wave and he gave her a nod in return as he made his way over.

“We were just talking about touring and how you guys just got back from being on the road,” (YN) explained to him.

“Yep. And didn’t your boyfriends band just get back?” Frank asked, but (YN) noticed the sharpness in his tone.

“No, they just left, that’s why Adam isn’t here,” she replied a little confused.

“Oh right, right,” Frank said with a nod, but (YN) couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going on with him. 

After a few hours, (YN) decided to head home. When she made her way to the door to find her coat in the pile that had amassed, she found Frank doing the same.

“I meant to tell you before I had a nice time at your engagement party, thanks for the invite,” (YN) smiled.

Frank lifted his eyebrows as he looked at her. “You did, huh? Did your boyfriend?”

Confusion was written across (YN)’s face. “Yea, I think so.”

“Ok, well it was good to see you (YN), say hi to Gerard for me,” Frank said snidely before heading out the door. That’s when it clicked in (YN)’s mind. She narrowed her eyes as she stormed after him.

“What the hell was that supposed to mean?” (YN) demanded when she caught up to Frank in the front yard, not caring about the other partygoers who were outside smoking.

He turned back to her with a knowing smirk. “Slip of the tongue. You know a thing or two about that, right?”

“What are you talking about?” She replied indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I saw you and Gerard at the engagement party. Oh, but you were still with Adam, weren’t you? Wait, you still are with him, aren’t you?”

(YN)’s jaw dropped. “Oh, fuck you Frank!” She spat. “You don’t even know-”

“Yea, right, you’re the real victim here,” Frank said storming toward her.

“You know how Adam is, you know he’s cheated on me!”

“Then have some fucking self respect (YN) and leave him! And don’t think you’re the only one being impacted here, Gee hasn’t been able to focus on a damn thing since that night, the shows were a mess. Leave Adam, be with Gerard if you want, or don’t, I don’t care, but do something!” With that he turned and left, leaving (YN) standing in the dark, tears streaming down her face.

~

(YN) lay next to Adam, wide awake despite the fact that it was the middle of the night. She hadn't stopped thinking about what Frank said for weeks. Every time she thought she had made peace with what happened, her thoughts turned to Gerard.

She tried to pretend as if nothing happened, but when she would go to the My Chem rehearsals and shows, she found herself watching Gerard more than anyone else. She found herself thinking about the things he said to her, the way his lips felt on hers, wondering how they'd feel on her neck, how he would feel against her.

But things with Adam had changed as well. He seemed more attentive suddenly, and (YN) couldn't help but wonder if some rumors got back to him. She also couldn't help but wonder if maybe this was for the best after all.

A few nights later, (YN) made her way up to Adam’s door and let herself in like usual. “Hey babe, Jen got called into work, so we had to cancel our girls night. Wanna go to-” (YN) trailed off as she spotted the trail of clothes that started at her feet and led to the bedroom. 

Adam rushed out of the bedroom, pulling up his boxers, shutting the door behind him. “(YN), it’s, I’m, I” he stammered trying to come up with an excuse for the bra (YN) was holding up.

“I always knew it. I always fucking knew it even though I pretended it wasn’t really happening,” she said before throwing the garment at him  and running out of the apartment. As she got in her car and knew exactly where she was going.

~

“(YN) what are you doing here?” Gerard asked when he opened the door.

“I caught Adam with a girl, and I came here,” she replied in a rush as she pushed her way into the house, shedding her jacket. 

“Are you ok?” Gerard asked, concern written across his face. 

(YN) didn’t reply, she just reached up and pulled Gerard to her and kissed him hard. She leaned her body into his as his hands found her waist, gripping it tightly. His tongue slipped past her lips and moved with hers.

“Let’s go downstairs,” he said breathlessly when they came up for air and (YN) nodded in response.

When they made it to Gerard’s room they were back on each other in an instant, his hands holding her tightly, in case this moment would slip away if he wasn’t careful. She pulled back and peeled off her shirt before climbing onto his bed. Gerard climbed over her as she leaned back against the Star Wars sheets and ground her hips against his, desperate for friction. Gerard’s hands roamed over her body as his lips moved down to her neck. When he found a spot that made her gasp, he worked on it relentlessly, leaving dark red marks. 

(YN) pulled Gerard's shirt off, letting her nails scratch up his back. Soon they were pushing off their jeans and everything else. Their skin slick with sweat, moans slipping from their lips, leaving even more marks on each other.

The next morning (YN) woke up with Gerard's arms wrapped around her with her back pressed against his chest. He looked like he had just woken up as well, his face still puffy from sleep, eyes bleary when she rolled away from him onto her front so she could look at him.

“Hey,” Gerard murmured. He almost seemed hesitant to break the silence.

“Hi,” she replied softly.

Gerard smiled at her sleepily, the silence lingering between them as his fingers started tracing up and down her bare spine. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

“I just woke up though,” she replied, burying her face against the pillow, before looking back up at him coyly.

Gerard shook his head. “Doesn’t matter, still beautiful. Always have been, always will be.”

(YN) leaned over and pressed another kiss to his lips and he pulled her against him. Soon they were at it again, moans and gasps filling the room. It was different with Gerard; all of his attention was on her, nothing felt rushed, he cared about how she felt, how good he could make her feel. He adored her in every sense of the word.

When they finished and dressed again, Gerard led the way back upstairs. When they got to the kitchen they were both startled to find Mikey sitting at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal.

“I didn’t know you and Adam broke up,” Mikey said while eyeing (YN).

“What are you talking about? We were just-” (YN) started.

“You’re not quiet,” Mikey said curtly as he got up and rinsed his bowl in the sink.

(YN) looked at Gerard, both of them blushing feverishly. “Shut up Mikey,” Gerard finally choked out before ushering (YN) to the front door.

“Your coat is on the couch (YN),” Mikey called after them.

“(YN),” Gerard started once they were outside, the questions he wanted to ask hanging on his tongue.

“I don’t feel guilty,” she said, seeming to read his mind.

Gerard looked up. “Really?”

She just nodded. “I… I don’t regret any of it. But I’m gonna go.”

It was Gerard’s turn to nod silently. (YN) leaned in and placed a soft kiss against his cheek, before turning and hurrying to her car with one last glance over her shoulder.

~

(YN) had been ignoring Adam’s calls for days. She had been thinking hard about what had happened until she eventually found herself at Adam’s door. When she arrived, she rang the bell instead of letting herself in like usual and when Adam opened the door he looked surprised to see her.

“(YN), come in,” he started.

“Yea, we need to talk,” she said pushing past him brusquely. She ignored him when he gestured for her to sit next to him on the couch.

“I’m so sorry about that night. I swear that was the first time it happened,” he started.

“Shut up Adam, I know that’s not true,” (YN) snapped. He sat back, surprised at her tone. 

“Baby, ok, I messed up. I’ve messed up before, and just because you didn’t see it, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen, but I’m sorry!”

"I hooked up with Gerard."

Adam stared at her in shock for a moment. "Fuck (YN)! When?"

"The night I caught you with that other girl,” replied coldly.

"Goddamn it (YN)! I love you because you're so fucking good. Too fucking good for me and then you pull this shit?"

(YN) stared daggers at him "Really? Now you acknowledge that I’m too good for you when I finally sink to your level? You could have tried to make yourself into someone worthy of my love and time and devotion, but you threw that all away. Do you realize what you've done to me? You broke me down and ruined me, made me into someone I’m not, someone I never thought I would be! And I'm done!”

Adam jumped to his feet then, his tall frame towering over her. "What? You're gonna go crawling back to Gee? Like he’d want you? Like he’s some kind of prize?”

(YN) felt her resolve slip for a moment as his words slipped through the cracks in her armor. What if Gerard didn’t want to be with her any more? What if she was just damaged goods, a slut? Wouldn’t it be easier to stay with Adam?

“Come on (YN), I love you, we can work this all out,” Adam said, reaching out for her hands and snapping her out of her thoughts.

(YN) shook her head as she took a step back. “No, no I can’t keep doing this. I can’t be waiting at home for you every night and wondering who you’re with. I can’t let you keep doing this to me.” 

(YN) hurried back out the door before she could doubt herself again. As the door shut behind her, she sighed and felt a sense of relief flood her before the anxiety crashed in. What if he was right about Gerard not wanting her anymore now that he’d had her. What if she had ruined what could have been if she just would have done things the right way?

(YN) knew My Chem was having practice that evening, so she sat on the floor of the hallway across from the door as she waited for them to finish. When the door opened up and Frank came out, she scrambled to her feet.

“Shit, (YN), you scared me,” he said putting his hand over his heart.

“Sorry,” (YN) mumbled. “But, umm, I broke up with Adam today. I came clean and everything.”

Frank nodded. “Good on you (YN). I know shit’s fucked up, but I knew you’d get it together,” he gave her a soft smile before turning to leave.

Ray and Matt came out shortly after, leaving only Gerard and Mikey still in the rehearsal space. (YN) lingered at the doorway as they talked and Mikey packed up his bass. Sensing someone at the door Gerard looked up and smiled at (YN). Relief washed over her and she couldn’t help but smile back.

“I’m gonna go,” Mikey said when he saw who his brother was smiling at. “See ya," he said hurrying past her.

“Hey,” Gerard finally said.

“Hey,” she replied. “Umm, can we talk?”

Gerard, pale as he already was, seemed to pale even more at her words. “Yea, ok.”

(YN) shut the door and sat down on the couch, Gerard joining her. “I broke up with Adam today.”

“Shit,” he murmured.

“He said you wouldn’t want to be with me,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes.

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Gerard was reaching out and wrapping her in a hug. “That’s not true,” he whispered. “I’ve watched you with Adam for so long and I wanted nothing more than to make you realize that you deserve so much more. I’m not saying that I’m Prince Charming, but if you let me try, I’ll do everything I can to make you happy.”

(YN) pulled back, and Gerard brushed away the tears from her cheeks. “I promise I’m not who I’ve been lately. I’ve been at my worst," she whispered.

“I know you’re not, sugar. And I’m not blameless in this either.”

“I’m gonna songs written about me now,” she laughed.

“I’ll write better,” Gerard smiled back.

“You really want to be with me?” She asked earnestly.

“More than you’ll ever know,” he said leaning in, his lips pressing against hers.

~

A few months later, (YN) walked into the church and found a seat in the back corner, away from the other guests who had already arrived. A few minutes later the wedding processional began and Frank and Jamia’s friends and family, including Gerard, filed up to the front of the church. Everyone stood up when Jamia entered the church and made her way down the aisle, that’s when (YN) spotted him and her heart started to race.

(YN) mentally berated herself for not realizing Adam would be at the wedding. She hadn’t prepared at all for how she would say to him, as she hadn’t seen him since the night she dumped him. She wondered if he had heard about her and Gerard. 

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts, she missed most of the ceremony. She finally started to pay attention when Frank started to read his vows. The love in his voice was so genuine it made (YN) realize something. It didn���t matter what would or wouldn’t be said between her and Adam, all that mattered was that she was in a loving relationship with Gerard. They didn’t lie or keep secrets from each other, she knew that he adored her and she felt like the luckiest person on earth to be with him. What she and Gerard had was what love was really about. She and Adam never had that.

At the reception, (YN) was happily talking to Ray and Mikey with Gerard, who had his arm wrapped around her waist when she heard someone clear their throat behind them.

“Oh, hey Adam,” she said when she glanced back. Gerard’s grip on her waist grew tighter.

“Hey (YN), can we talk for a second?”

“Yea, sure,” she replied nervously.

Adam rubbed his hand over his face as she stepped away from her friends. “(YN), I just really wanna say I’m sorry.”

(YN) felt like she had been punched in the gut, as that was the last thing she expected to hear him say. “Oh,” was all that could escape her.

“I was a huge asshole to you, I realize that now. I never should have cheated, I didn’t realize how good I had it until you were gone.”

(YN) took in the words and nodded silently.

“And I’m not trying to come between you and Gerard, you two obviously have something good going. I can tell you’re happy, happier than you were with me.”

“Adam,” she started, annoyance in her tone.

“Sorry,” he said rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m just sorry, but glad you’re happy.”

“Thanks,” (YN) replied, before giving him a small wave and going back to Gerard.

“All good?” Gerard asked.

“Yea, everything is right in the world,” she replied with a smile as she wrapped her arms around him. “I love you Gee.”

“I love you too, (YN).”

[thisdiscontentedwinter]

Bad Blood - Chapter 28

You can read it on AO3 or find the Tumblr Chapter Index here.

________

“We’ve got about ten minutes,” John says. “Peter, how many entrances and exits here?”

“To the loft? The main door, and the fire escapes on the bedrooms on the western side,” Peter says. “That’s Laura’s bedroom, and Derek’s.”

John strides over to the crates and starts pulling the lids off. “Does the fire escape go all the way to the roof?”

“Yes.” Peter nods, his heart beating fast. He can feel adrenaline starting to flood his system now. He can feel his fangs itch in his gums, and his claws ache to form. He can feel a rumbling in his chest that’s almost a growl. His wolf is ready to fight for its pack.

“How close is this roof to the neighbouring buildings?”

Peter blinks as he tries to calculate it. “The closest is about twenty feet?”

“Still possible,” John says, “with the right gear. Let’s assume they have the right gear.” He lifts something out of a crate. “Okay, so we have the stairwell, the lift shaft, and the fire escape. Stiles?”

Stiles swallows and steps forward.

John passes him over a box. “Can you set these up in the fire escape? Top and bottom? I’ll do the stairwell and the lift shaft.”

Stiles nods, and takes the box. Derek leads him up the spiral steps.

Not a father and son moment, Peter thinks. Hunter to hunter, which is probably the only reason Stiles responded to it. That training, beaten into him over the past six years, is kicking in now. Peter only hopes that Allison and Derek are enough to keep the boy’s strained loyalties from snapping when it counts.

“Are you…” Peter shakes his head to clear it. “John, are you rigging this building to explode? The one that we’re currently inside of?”

John flashes him a wicked grin as he heads for the front door. “Tiny explosions, Peter. Tiny ones, I promise. Nothing structural. You’ll hardly feel a thing.”

Peter turns to look at Laura.

He wonders if his mouth is hanging open as much as hers is.

***

Stiles is back within minutes, and heads straight for the crates in the living room. His face is expressionless, his eyes calculating. He doesn’t look like a child at the moment. He looks like a hunter. He draws a firearm out of a crate and inspects it.

Moments later, John comes back through the front door.

“Fire escape’s done, top and bottom,” Stiles says, barely glancing at him as sliding a clip into the magazine of the firearm he’s chosen.

“Good,” John says, and goes to join him at the crates. “That’s our entrances covered. Thing is, it’ll only work once. The first one blows, and the rest of them are going to be more watchful.”

“What exactly did you do out there?” Peter asks.

“Infrared tripwires,” John says. “For God’s sake, everyone remember to disable them again before we walk out of here, okay?”

Peter smiles at that.  He likes John’s certainty that they’re going to be walking out of here. Or at least the fact he won’t voice any thoughts to the contrary. Peter’s familiar with that same brand of grim positivity himself. There’s no denying they’re about to be dragged through hell, but fuck Gerard Argent, because they’re going to drag themselves out again too.

John nods at him. “Now, they’re probably going to wait until dark to attack, but they may not. So we might only have minutes left. Stiles, Derek, you two are on the top floor watching the fire escape. Peter, you and I are down here on the main door.”

“And where am I?” Laura demands, her eyes flashing red.

“You’re on the stairs,” John says. “You’re there for anyone who tries to get up them, or down them.”

“And what about me?” Allison asks, grabbing the crossbow.

“You’re our hostage,” John says, and nods toward the open door of the room where Stiles was secured. “If they make it past us to get to you, feel free to shoot any of them.”

“You can’t put Ally in a room with no other exit,” Stiles says. “She’ll be trapped.”

Allison shakes her head. “That means nobody will be able to come at me from behind though, right? I only have to keep watch in one direction.”

Stiles glowers. “And if anything goes wrong, you’ll be trapped!”

“Stiles.” Allison crosses the floor to him, and reaches out for his hand. She grips it. “I’ll be fine. We’ll allbe fine.”

Peter wishes he could believe that. He meets John’s gaze, and knows that he’s thinking the exact same thing.

Outside, it’s getting darker.

***

Peter paces the kitchen, claws out. “How did they find us, John?” he asks.

John looks up from where he’s checking one of the firearms he took from a crate. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Peter growls. “Oh, do fill me in.”

“It was me,” John says bitterly. “Fucker must have had a tail on me today.”

“You can’t know that.”

John raises his eyebrows. “Don’t patronise me, Peter. The timing fits, and you know it.”

Peter doesn’t answer.

John lines up his firearms along the breakfast bar like they’re a buffet. “Guess I’d better make it up to you, right?”

Peter growls in approval.

***

The explosion, when it comes, sounds like the distant rumble of thunder. Peter feels the tremors run through the building before settling. He looks at John.

“That was the bottom of the fire escape, I think,” John says. “Let’s hope it took out at least a few of them.”

Gerard had six hunters, Peter remembers. And Deaton only mentioned one vehicle. So it’s possible there aren’t any more than that coming. How many should he hope the explosion took out? Two? Three? What if it didn’t take any of them out? What if they were sheltered from it somehow? Peter knows so little about explosives.

After the explosion, there is silence.

John was right. The other hunters are more cautious now.

The minutes tick by slowly.

It gets darker and darker inside the loft, and then Peter hears it:

“Footsteps,” he says. He tilts his head. “On the stairs, and also on the fire escape.”

“Can you tell how many?” John asks.

“Four? Maybe five?”

“Okay,” says John. “Let’s do it.”

***

The wolf sees the world in shades of red. It’s a predator, and Peter is happy to let it off its leash. When the loft door slides open, Peter squeezes his eyes shut. He can still see the searing strobes of the flash grenade John throws bright against his eyelids. Burning light, and a noise so loud it makes Peter sway on his feet.

“Go!” John yells.

And Peter opens his eyes and dives forward toward the hunters.

It’s been a long time since he was in a fight, but the predator never forgets what to do. It’s muscle memory. Muscle memory and the need to tear out the throats of his enemies and to taste their blood in the air.

There are three hunters.

It takes them valuable seconds for their night vision to readjust after the flash grenade. Peter grabs the first one, and rakes his claws across the man’s throat. His claws dig through body armor, and Peter growls in frustration. He punches the guy right in the goggles, relishing the wet crack of his nose, and then wrenches him back again. He grabs him by the chin, pulling it upward to expose that throat he wants. Then he jabs the claws of his other hand through that taut flesh and muscle, like popping a balloon, and drags them down.

The man drops to the floor, and Peter’s hand drips with blood.

He hears shots, and sees John and one of the other hunters exchanging fire. Peter makes a move towards them, but a sudden sharp punch to the hip sends him spinning away again. He smells blood and wolfsbane even before the pain hits him. He’s been shot.

He retreats, towards the spiral staircase, and the hunter follows him.

And then Laura is on him, and the man’s sharp scream is cut off abruptly as she twists his head with a sharp pop, as easily as some grizzled old farmer snapping the neck of a blind squealing kitten.

Peter flashes his eyes at her approvingly, and she growls.

Then, in response to a yell from upstairs, she flies up the stairs.

Peter flashes his fangs in John’s direction.

The wolfsbane in his blood is burning—burning like fucking acid—but Peter’s had worse, hasn’t he? He can still remember the sensation of his hair catching fire, of his skin starting to blister and bubble and melt. And there is nothing—nothing—that will stop him from ripping out the throat of the hunter currently shooting at John Stilinski.

Nothing is a dangerous word.

Peter doesn’t even know what hits him when a taser lights him up with fifty thousand volts.

He hits the floor, twitching. He barely has time to realise that it’s Gerard Argent himself who caught him from behind—the lat to come through the loft door, like the coward he is—when the old snake raises a firearm, and shoots him in the chest.

***

The wolfsbane burns, and Peter fights his way past the sensation to force his eyes open again.

The lights in the loft are on.

There’s a hunter standing by the doorway, blooded and shaking, but still on his feet.

Peter can hear banging, dull and muted as though it’s fcoming from a long distance away. It takes him a moment to figure out where it’s coming from.

The secure room. The steel door is shut, but who’s inside? Peter tries to feel for his pack bonds, but it hurts too much. He can’t focus. He can barely keep his eyes open. A whine rises up in the back of his throat. It’s the sound of a wounded pup crying for his alpha.

Who is in the room?

It’s not Allison. She’s standing in the middle of the loft, her hair a tangled mess around her face. She’s pale and defiant as her grandfather stands in front of her.

And John. John is there too. His mouth is a thin line, and there’s murder in his eyes as he stares at Gerard.  

Stiles is standing in front of him. He’s holding a gun. It’s pointing at John.

“Do it, Stiles,” Gerard says. There’s a sneer in his voice. A challenge and a victory all at once, and Peter can’t understand what happened, and how it’s got to this. “Do it. Show me that you’re a man.”

Stiles’s face is expressionless as his finger tightens on the trigger.

The shot might be the loudest sound that Peter has ever heard, even though it’s barely a whisper.

John staggers back as he’s hit, and then crumples to the floor.

And Peter howls.

[broken-clover]

Goretober day 4- Stitches

Yikes!! Cutting it a bit early here, guess I just got sidetracked. Well! I’m already half asleep so let’s get this going quick so I can do a sleep. Another repeat today! While I do love Litchi, I’m not sure if lat year’s prompt for this was especially good. Guess I can say the same about this one, but at least it’s different.

Today I’m using Hazama and Bang! This should be...not fun.

Hazama rubbed his temples as he entered the lower levels of the research lab.

“Clover, I understand the importance of your experiments, but must you do this when I’m trying to sleep?”

“Hmm?” Relius was hunched over his work table, welding something together. His hands were perfectly steady, not reacting at all to the sounds of muffled screaming that seeped through the wall.

“Can’t you shut him up? I swear he’s been yelling his head off for hours now. I can’t get any rest in these conditions!”

“I’m busy, Hazama, must you bother me when I’m working?”

The vessel huffed, crossing his arms. “Well, if you can’t silence him, can you at least give me something to do? I’m so very, very bored…”

“I’m right in the middle of this, can’t you handle it yourself?”

“Ugh, you are absolutely impossible!” Hazama had half a mind to say that Relius wasn’t even listening. He stormed off to the other side of the room and exited into the hallway, making a special effort to slam the door behind him as he went.

”Looks like we’ll just have to find a way to make our own fun.” Terumi’s voice hissed in the back of his thoughts.

“Too true. Any suggestions?”

”I find that pain is a good way to teach a lesson.” Hazama could all but feel the ghost smiling in his thoughts. ”So why don’t we teach our guest a thing or two?”

“Ohhh, very clever, very clever.” He turned back towards the door next to Relius’ lab, padlocked shut with a thick shackle that he knew only Relius had the key to. Ouroboros bit through the metal with embarrassingly little effort, and Hazama let himself inside.

The seemingly-endless stream of curses, death threats, and simple outright screaming only grew louder and more shrill as he entered. The ninja had been quite restless at first, but after breaking his legs and tying him down with numerous chains, he’d finally gone still- aside from his mouth, of course.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it, Shishigami?”

Bang looked even shaggier than usual. His hair was disgusting and disheveled, his clothing was torn, and scrapes and bruises marked a good chunk of his exposed skin. Despite his poor state, a fire still burned in his eyes, and he was all too happy to direct it at the man who had taken him captive.

“Why are you here?!”

“You see, in civilized societies, usually you’d greet people with ‘hello.’ Not sure what sort of things you were taught. Not like I could ask them what they were thinking, anyway, that whole shithole city is nothing but ashes now.”

They both delighted in the infuriated screech that was given in response. While Bang tossed out every possible curse word he knew (and a few that he probably made up, as well) Hazama busied himself by looking around the small, well-lit room. There wasn’t much of note, but he caught sight of something metal and shiny on the countertop. A tray of surgical tools was still laid out all neat and tidy, almost as though Relius had left it as a present for him.

”Well, wasn’t that nice?”

Hazama could agree more. He gleefully looked over the arrangement like a child at Christmas, quickly locating and picking up a curved needle. He was no medical expert, but a needle was a needle, and he had a pretty good idea on the sorts of things that it could be used for.

“Hey! Hey! Don’t you dare ignore me!” Bang snapped from his place on the floor. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“I don’t owe you that.” He replied, making no attempt at hiding anything as he found and cut a length of string from the spool.

“Don’t think I’ll give in so easily! You fiends know nothing about the true power of- !”

“Love, friendship, blah, blah, blah, do you ever stop talking?”

Hazama would have asked it himself, even if Terumi hadn’t hijacked him to say it first. Deft fingers threaded the needle and tied a tight knot at the end. Nodding him himself, he brought it over and knelt down in front of his guest.

“You’re thick in the head, but I assume you at least know what this is?”

Bang offered no reply, but the way his eyes widened was enough of a tell. “Good. Now, you’ve been annoying me halfway to insanity, and I’d really like to be able to get a good night’s sleep. I’m a busy man, after all, I need to be well-rested if I want to get anything done.

So,” in a quick, sharp movement, he grabbed the ninja by the jaw with a force that threatened to break bone. “I’m going to shut you up for a bit. Try not to wiggle too much, okay, pumpkin?”

There wasn’t much of a point in asking. Despite his lithe frame, Hazama’s grip was obscenely powerful. Bang couldn’t even squirm if he tried. And he did, straining and struggling with forced-stiff muscles that weren’t allowed an inch of moving space.

”HAHAHAHA! Do it, Hazama! This is going to be so fun!!”

Even while rendered motionless, Bang still did his best to be restless and difficult. In the end, though, Hazama’s skillful fingers dug the sharp tip into the soft flesh of the man’s upper lip, right in the corner.

“I’m actually quite the talented seamster, did you know that?” Asked Hazama, calmly pinching the lower lip out so he could pierce through it. “Not especially good with skin, though. I’m not sure if this is a Lembert or a Cushing stitch. It’s all the same to me. But I’d be more than happy to try and manage a nice blanket stitch for you~”

Bang could still scream even with how he was held. The sound was muffled as his jaw refused to move. A bead of blood dribbled out from the first puncture mark, and his mouth was filled with the taste of iron.

“Oh, perhaps that’s too much detail for someone like you. You don’t seem the fancy type, perhaps a simpler stitch would suit you better?”

“Mmm-mphh!!!"

“Haha! C’mon, why the looooong face?” A wicked smile split Hazama’s face as he pulled the string taut. “Cheer up! Litchi’s definitely gonna like you better like this!”

The strain stained red as it was pulled in and out. For the life of him, Hazama couldn’t seem to figure out which stitch looked best. He undid and redid the lines, not being at all gentle as he yanked and tied and twisted. Even without being able to scream properly, Bang’s expressions were positively hilarious to witness as he flinched and whimpered pathetically.

“Heehee! So many already! If you’re a good boy, you’ll get a lollipop when you’re done!”

It was intriguing how there seemed to be so much blood and yet so little at the same time. Each prick drew blood, and yet Hazama found that his hands were barely stained.

”How dull...why don’t we rip his guts open?”

“Now, now, just think of what Relius would say if his precious little research project got irreparably mauled. Perhaps he won’t object to a few missing fingers, though…”

Ah, but that was for another day. Stained thread trailed in neat zigzags, curving up until Hazama finally pulled the needle back out of the man’s cheek and tied it off.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Bang had a haunted look in his eyes. Thin trails of tears flowed and mixed with the blood as it ran down his throat. The stitches held his mouth shut firmly and cleanly, and combined with the various chains wrapped around his body, the eyes were the only part of him that could still move at all.

Hazama had been right. He did look much better this way.

[thelandofsalvation-blog]

sweet 18

A\N : So , Actually this is my first time writing for anything related to Thor. What brought me here that i guess i have such strong feeling for Loki , and i thought WHY NOT? I can give this a chance.

Hope you will enjoy it . Do not forget giving me a feedback , that is the only thing would help me continue.

Love you all , great people..

                                                            ###

Warnings :hurt!Loki X reader, angst, hurt and comfort, and a little fluff i guess

Words count : 1278 

                                                                 ###

He was away, again. Another mission for S.H.I.E.L.D..                                           You still can not believe why were you a part of all of this and how, it seemed that the hole of your life was a bad dream and Loki was the only good thing in it.

No one can deny it is hard for you to understand what was all of this about, all of that conflict, harm and war. You can recognize that Loki had his mistakes, but still you saw the treatment he had was unfair..

Why he chose you? That was another thought digging your head to death, he is the prince and you are a young girl who the world rejected her.Maybe that was the reason he chose you, because of the unfair treatment of this life.

The waiting was killing you, What if a bad thing happened to him? That thought never left you. you came out from the balcony and back to the room, looking at yourself in the mirror and wondering what a special thing he found in you.

Another sigh escaped your lips, you felt like your soul was burning slowly when he was away, he loved you and he chose you at the time you hated yourself the most. He chose to take the responsibility for being with a ( kid ) like they said , you are only 18 and you are only human , but he is the prince and he is over 100 years old. 

*Dose this really matter ?*  You thought to yourself

You sighed again, getting yourself in bed while he comes back to you..

                                                            ###

You woke up on hearing a slight noise, even it was dark you were able to recognize Loki..

The thing is Loki was not the way you expected to see! Your worst nightmare just came true, he was hurt.Badly!                                                                      He was leaning his rocky body on the walls, so you ran to help him.

“ Loki..” You called in worry, still can not believe what was happening.

His body is getting heavier on yours,even with all of his trials to stand on his own.The normal pride issue,but at the end it was you..

His breath was heavy,his lungs were struggling for air and you can feel blood in the aria above his waist. You got him to the couch in silent and you ran to get the medical supplies you need to heal him.

You fought a lot of things as well , the burning ache in your heart on seeing him like that and the stream of tears falling down your checks, all of that just to save him even you actually did not know if the ordinary human ways can help the prince’s body to heal or not..

You were just a young and peaceful girl, you were barley understanding the avengers thing, but at that moment all you needed is to be brave enough to save your beloved man..

You came back as quick as possible, you lent beside him..putting your hand behind his nick and rising his head to place a small kiss mixed with tears on his forehead.That was your silent apologize about the pain you are going to cause him.

“ That is ok..” he managed to say between the shouts of pain, he wanted to make it easier for you.He really loved you and the past years witnesses on that

You started to take his armor off, he hissed every time you touched him, preventing ugly screams of pain.You stopped after this step, giving him a chance to take couple of breathes that would help him getting ready for the next shot of pain.

He closed his eyes,still breathing rapidly.His chest went up and down for million times like there was a revolution in it and his heart was not better.You looked at him-hesitated-with tears in your eyes and he looked back encouraging you to do it.

Taking deep breath hoping it would help controlling yourself , that was exactly what you manged to do.Then you gave the wound a proper look,and that was the last thing on earth you wanted to do..

Your unconscious mind took the lead for a while, your fingers passed a soft touch on his wound and then he hissed in pain.He was able to take it until..

Until..your lips placed a soft kiss on his wound

“Gahh..” a moan finally escaped his gathered teeth,announcing how desperate he was to have an end to this pain

On his scream,you finally got back to your mind.You never knew why did you do that? Having his blood on your lips and on your hands , you were only making this harder for both of you..Maybe it was a reaction to the wish of sharing his pain that was placed in the darkest place in your mind.

You tried to do your best, you got whatever medical supplies you thought it would cope up with the nature of his body, his body shook violently with every step and couple of moans forced themselves out of his lips every while..

                                                         ###

You finished it ! You did it..you saved your man, without any help of anyone.         Still, you were not able to believe it..you were giving the wound stilled                  -soulless- looks.

Loki was able to see that after he was -finally- able to get back to his normal process of breathing.

“ Y\N..” he called with lat power he had

Then you looked at him,tears in your eyes that turned to be rivers on your checks..

“No..” he said softly, like a hidden call for you to stop 

You were not able to feel what you did,the pain in your chest was killing you that voice in your head told you you have to end it..you were nearly going to smash you rips with your fist to get your heart out

“NO!” this time Loki screamed violently, while he held your hand with the last power he had

“ Why? Why do you have to suffer that amount of pain? Why cannot I share it with you?                                                                                                                If you deserve that stunning, immortal pain then I worth it as well..                         even more than you.                                                                                              I am a part of you since a year ago, actually i feel I am a part of you since birth    You can not get hurt that way, I die when you do..” you really broke and lost yourself at this point, him being hurt was killing you

“ I am fine! You made me fine..” he tried to say those words as strong as he could , while he grabbed you from the ground to set beside him

He cupped your face with his hands , forcing you to look at him.

“ Nothing in this world would take me from you..it was one time thing, a fight that goes wrong and i promise it would never happen again.                                     You need to be stronger,Y\N. You are the only person on the world for me now and I am the only person for you..                                                                          we need to be stronger for each other sake,so do not you ever lose yourself like this in front of me again” he said looking directly your eyes, helping you to get over what just happen

He thought about leaving you before, letting you back to your life that you maybe will not see a drop of blood in it..but he can not give on you or your pure love..

You agreed to his words in your way,as you placed a soft kiss on his dressed wound and even it was a little painful, it just made him smile to the sweet you..            

[smokeybrand]

Return to Form

It’s a few days into the new year and, after my successful venture into the wilds of the world to see Now Way Home, I'm feeling pretty bold. I got my shots, i got my booster, i got my masks. I think i am okay with heading back to the theater. I am, for sure, going to miss sitting on my couch, in my draws, watching tent pole releases like Dune and Suicide Squad but I’d be a liar if i said i didn’t miss the while theater experience. I missed it so f*cking much, man. With newfound resolve and a substantial amount of anti-COVID antibodies swimming through my system, these are the films i am most anticipating going into this year. Of course, sh*t might change, things might get pushed back but, as of right now, these are the films topping my must see queue. I need to mention two films out the box that are leftovers from lat year: The Curse of Macbeth and Eternals. Both of these flicks get their VOD releases this month, even though they dropped last year so, i guess, they count toward this year but not really? Anyway, here’s the real list.

Everything Everywhere At Once

This one looks like it's going to be my top A24 entry for this year. It has that weirdly original energy all of the movies coming out of my favorite studio seem to have. It’s not gritty like a Safdie entry or bonkers like an Eggers release but it still caught me off guard and i love that it stars Michelle Yeoh. Give me all of the excellence, A24!

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

Of course this on the list, are you kidding me? Do you pay attention to this blog at all? How can A Spider-Man release NOT be on this list?

The Batman

Obviously this thing is on my list. Obviously. Listen, Spider-Man and Batman movies print money and this version of Batman, specifically, looks incredibly interesting. Matt Reeves has somehow captured that raw, visceral, Frank Miller energy and look forward to seeing how unrelentingly brutal this film will be. Plus, that Batmobile is too dope for words.

Sonic the Hedgehog 2

Listen, i was already on board because of Jim Carrey Eggman but Idris Elba Knuckles was the clincher. I loved everything i saw in that trailer; The Master Emerald, crazy mustache Eggman, Sonic pretending to be Batman, even Tails in the Tornado, but that Knuckles reveal was everything.

Thor: Love and Thunder

I have no idea what this movie is about and i don’t care. I trust Taika to give me more of the Ragnarok goodness. That said, i don’t know if this one is going to release this year. I have a sneaking suspicion we might see a Thor move depending on the box office of my next entry...

Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness

Bro, Shuma Gorath is in this thing so i was already there. Straight up, i don’t care about Dark Strange, Wanda going full Scarlet Witch, the rumored Illuminati, or f*cking Miss America Chavez, Shuma “Eldritch horror personified” Gorath is one of, if not THE, principal antagonist of this movie and i can barely contain myself about it.

Knives Out 2

I don’t know anything about the plot but i do know i absolutely loved the first one and I'm front row in the theater on the strength of that one, alone.

The Northman

I wasn’t on board for this one at first because i don’t care about ultra violent viking/barbarian fare like this but i decided to give it a chance. Checked out the trailer and wasn’t impressed. Checked out the cast, not ad. Checked out the direct and was absolutely sold. This is a Robert Eggers film. Mans gave me The VVitch, The Lighthouse, and now The Northman. F*ck yeah i am in this b*tch! It also helps that this one is getting released under the Universal banner so it should see a wide release. I love A24 but no one runs their films out here because Sacramento is a f*cking cow town with no goddamn culture.

Nope

This one is the proper second attempt from Jordan Peele. A lot of people with say Us was his second film but that was a Twilight Zone rip-off so i would beg to differ. This one, which is something he actually wrote himself devoid of “inspiration” from another narrative, should be an interesting watch.

Salem’s Lot

F*cking Salem’s Lot is getting a remake this year and i am all for it! I love when Stephen King does Vampires. It’s incredibly rare but never disappointing. Plus, he’s been on an adaption roll. With the exception of IT: Chapter II, the recently page-to-film attempts have been really f*cking solid.

This is the list so far. I didn’t include sh*t like Jurassic World III, Black Panther II, or Creed III because I'm not super high on those. I’ll see them but if i miss out for some reason, no skin of my nose. I was tempted to add Disappointment Boulevard, Men, and Crimes of the Future to this list on the backs of the respective directors, alone, but i need more information than just that. Still, it’s hard to bet against Ari Aster, Alex Garland, and David f*cking Cronenberg. The new Fantastic Beasts and Aquaman flicks are trying to carve out space around the edges but i cant muster the strength to really care about either one for the same reason. Amber Heard. Amber Heard is that reason. F*ck that b*tch. I don’t care about The Flash, Top Gun, Death on the Nile, Mission Impossible whatever, Black Adam, Scream, Morbius, or Moonfall but i might see them all anyway just to see something that week. Because this is a new year and i am back on my bullsh*t, son! I miss going to the movies and i got two years of this sh*t to make up.

[boreothegoldfinch]

chapter 10 paragraph v

Almost three hours later I was still sitting in a red vinyl booth in the Polack bar, flashing Christmas lights, annoying mix of punk rock and Christmas polka music honking away on the jukebox, fed up from waiting and wondering if he was going to show or not, if maybe I should just go home. I didn’t even have his information—it had all happened so fast. In the past I’d Googled Boris for the hell of it—never a whisper—but then I’d never envisioned Boris as having any kind of a life that might be traceable online. He might have been anywhere, doing anything: mopping a hospital floor, carrying a gun in some foreign jungle, picking up cigarette butts off the street. It was getting toward the end of Happy Hour, a few students and artist types trickling in among the pot-bellied old Polish guys and grizzled, fifty-ish punks. I’d just finished my third vodka; they poured them big, it was foolish to order another one; I knew I should get something to eat but I wasn’t hungry and my mood was turning bleaker and darker by the moment. To think that he’d blown me off after so many years was incredibly depressing. If I had to be philosophical, at least I’d been diverted from my dope mission: hadn’t OD’d, wasn’t vomiting in some garbage can, hadn’t been ripped off or run in for trying to buy from an undercover cop— “Potter.” There he was, sliding in across from me, slinging the hair from his face in a gesture that brought the past ringing back. “I was just about to leave.” “Sorry.” Same dirty, charming smile. “Had something to do. Didn’t Myriam explain?” “No she didn’t.” “Well. Is not like I work in accounting office. Look,” he said, leaning forward, palms on the table, “don’t be mad! Was not expecting to run into you! I came as quick as I could! Ran, practically!” He reached across with cupped hand and slapped me gently on the cheek. “My God! Such a long time it is! Glad to see you! You’re not glad to see me too?” He’d grown up to be good-looking. Even at his gawkiest and most pinched he’d always had a likable shrewdness about him, lively eyes and a quick intelligence, but he’d lost that half-starved rawness and everything else had come together the right way. His skin was weather-beaten but his clothes fell well, his features were sharp and nervy, cavalry hero by way of concert pianist; and his tiny gray snaggleteeth—I saw—had been replaced by a standard-issue row of all-American whites. He saw me looking, flicked a showy incisor with his thumbnail. “New snaps.” “I noticed.” “Dentist in Sweden did it,” said Boris, signalling for a waiter. “Cost a fucking fortune. My wife kept after me—Borya, your mouth, disgraceful! I said no way am I doing this, but was the best money I ever spent.” “When’d you get married?” “Eh?” “You could have brought her if you wanted.” He looked startled. “What, you mean Myriam? No, no—” reaching into the pocket of his suit jacket, punching around on his telephone, “Myriam’s not my wife! This—” he handed me the phone—“this is my wife. What are you drinking?” he said, before turning to address the waiter in Polish. The photo on the iPhone was of a snow-topped chalet and, out in front, a beautiful blonde on skis. At her side, also on skis, were a pair of bundled-up little blond kids of indeterminate sex. It didn’t look so much like a snapshot as an ad for some healthful Swiss product like yogurt or Bircher muesli.

I looked up at him stunned. He glanced away, with a Russianate gesture of old: yeah, well, it is what it is. “Your wife? Seriously?” “Yah,” he said, with a lifted eyebrow. “My kids, too. Twins.” “Fuck.” “Yes,” he said regretfully. “Born when I was very young—too young. It wasn’t a good time—she wanted to keep them—‘Borya, how could you’— what could I say? To be truthful I don’t know them so well. Actually the little one—he is not in the picture—the little one I have not met at all. I think he is only, what? Six weeks old?” “What?” Again I looked at the picture, struggling to reconcile this wholesome Nordic family with Boris. “Are you divorced?” “No no no—” the vodka had arrived, icy carafe and two tiny glasses, he was pouring a shot for each of us—“Astrid and the children are mostly in Stockholm. Sometimes she comes to Aspen to the winter, to ski—she was ski champion, qualified for the Olympics when she was nineteen—” “Oh yeah?” I said, doing my best not to sound incredulous at this. The kids, as was fairly evident upon closer viewing, looked far too blond and bonny to be even vaguely related to Boris. “Yes yes,” said Boris, very earnestly, with a vigorous nod of the head. “She always has to be where there is skiing and—you know me, I hate the fucking snow, ha! Her father very very right-wing—a Nazi basically. I think —no wonder Astrid has depression problems with father like him! What a hateful old shit! But they are very unhappy and miserable people, all of them, these Swedes. One minute laughing and drinking and the next—darkness, not a word. Dziękuję,” he said to the waiter, who had reappeared with a tray of small plates: black bread, potato salad, two kinds of herring, cucumbers in sour cream, stuffed cabbage, and some pickled eggs. “I didn’t know they served food here.” “They don’t,” said Boris, buttering a slice of black bread and sprinkling it with salt. “But am starving. Asked them to bring something from next door.” He clinked his shot glass with mine. “Sto lat!” he said—his old toast. “Sto lat.” The vodka was aromatic and flavored with some bitter herb I couldn’t identify. “So,” I said, helping myself to some food. “Myriam?” “Eh?” I held out open palms in our childhood gesture: please explain. “Ah, Myriam! She works for me! Right-hand man, suppose you’d say. Although, I’ll tell you, she’s better than any man you’ll find. What a woman, my God. Not many like her, I’ll tell you. Worth her weight in gold. Here here,” he said, refilling my glass and sliding it back to me. “Za vstrechu!” lifting his own to me. “To our meeting!” “Isn’t it my turn to toast?” “Yes, it is—” clinking my glass—“but I am hungry and you are waiting too long.” “To our meeting, then.” “To our meeting! And to fortune! For bringing us together again!” As soon as we’d drunk, Boris fell immediately on the food. “And what exactly is it that you do?” I asked him. “This, that.” He still ate with the innocent, gobbling hunger of a child. “Many things. Getting by, you know?” “And where do you live? Stockholm?” I said, when he didn’t answer. He waved an expansive hand. “All over.” “Like—?” “Oh, you know. Europe, Asia, North and South America…” “That covers a lot of territory.” “Well,” he said, mouth full of herring, wiping a glob of sour cream off his chin, “am also small business owner, if you understand me rightly.” “Sorry?” He washed down the herring with a big slug of beer. “You know how it is. My official business so called is housecleaning agency. Workers from Poland, mostly. Nice pun in title of business, too. ‘Polish Cleaning Service.’ Get it?” He bit into a pickled egg. “What’s our motto, can you guess? ‘We clean you out,’ ha!”

I chose to let that one lie. “So you’ve been in the States this whole time?” “Oh no!” He had poured us each a new shot of vodka, was lifting his glass to me. “Travel a lot. I am here maybe six, eight weeks of the year. And the rest of the time—” “Russia?” I said, downing my shot, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Not so much. Northern Europe. Sweden, Belgium. Germany sometimes.” “I thought you went back.” “Eh?” “Because—well. I never heard from you.” “Ah.” Boris rubbed his nose sheepishly. “It was a messed up time. Remember your house—that last night?” “Of course.” “Well. I’d never seen so much drugs in my life. Like half an ounce of coka and didn’t sell one stitch of it, not even one quarter gram. Gave a lot away, sure—was very popular at school, ha! Everyone loved me! But most of it— right up my nose. Then—the baggies we found—tablets of all assortments— remember? Those little greens? Some very serious cancer-patient-end-of-life pills—your dad must have been crazy addicted if he was taking that stuff.” “Yeah, I wound up with some of those too.” “Well then, you know! They don’t even make those good green oxys any more! Now they have the junkie-defeat so you can’t shoot them or snort! But your dad? Like—to go from drinking to that? Better a drunk in the street, any old day. First one I did—passed out before I hit my second line, if Kotku hadn’t been there—” he drew a finger across his throat—“pfft.” “Yep,” I said, remembering my own stupid bliss, keeling face-down on my desk upstairs at Hobie’s. “Anyway—” Boris downed his vodka in a gulp and poured us both another—“Xandra was selling it. Not that. That was your dad’s. For his own personal. But the other, she was dealing from where she worked. That couple Stewart and Lisa? Those like super straight real-estate looking people? They were bankrolling her.” I put down my fork. “How do you know that?” “Because she told me! And I guess they got ugly when she came up short, too. Like Mr. Lawyer Face and Miss Daisy Tote Bag all nice and kind at your house… petting her on the head… ‘what can we do’… ‘Poor Xandra…’ ‘we’re so sorry for you’… then their drugs are gone—phew. Different story! I felt really bad when she told me, for what we’d done! Big trouble for her! But, by then—” flicking his nose—“was all up here. Kaput.” “Wait—Xandra told you this?” “Yes. After you left. When I was living over there with her.” “You need to back up a little bit.” Boris sighed. “Well, okay. Is long story. But we have not seen each other in long while, right?” “You lived with Xandra?” “You know—in and out. Four-five months maybe. Before she moved back to Reno. I lost touch with her after that. My dad had gone back to Australia, see, and also Kotku and I were on the rocks—”

“That must have been really weird.” “Well—sort of,” he said restlessly. “See—” leaning back, signalling to the waiter again—“I was in pretty bad shape. I’d been up for days. You know how it is when you crash hard off cocaine—terrible. I was alone and really frightened. You know that sickness in your soul—fast breaths, lots of fear, like Death will reach a hand out and take you? Thin—dirty—scared shivering. Like a little half-dead cat! And Christmas too—everyone away! Called a bunch of people, no one picking up—went by this guy Lee’s where I stayed in the pool house sometime but he was gone, door locked. Walking and walking—staggering almost. Cold and frightened! Nobody home! So I went by to Xandra’s. Kotku was not talking to me by then.” “Man, you had some kind of serious balls. I wouldn’t have gone back there for a million dollars.” “I know, it took some onions, but was so lonely and ill. Mouth all gittering. Like—where you want to lie still and to look at a clock and count your heartbeats? except no place to lie still? and you don’t have a clock? Almost in tears! Didn’t know what to do! Didn’t even know was she still there. But lights were on—only lights on the street—came around by the glass door and there she was, in her same Dolphins shirt, in the kitchen making margaritas.” “What’d she do?” “Ha! Wouldn’t let me in, at first! Stood in the door and yelled a long while —cursed me, called me every name! But then I started crying. And when I asked could I stay with her?”—he shrugged—“she said yes.” “What?” I said, reaching for the shot he’d poured me. “You mean like stay stay—?” “I was scared! She let me sleep in her room! With TV turned to Christmas movies!” “Hmn.” I could see he wanted me to press for details, only from his gleeful expression I was not so sure I believed him about the sleeping-in-herroom business, either. “Well, glad that worked out for you, I guess. She say anything about me?” “Well, yes a little.” He chortled. “A lot actually! Because, I mean, don’t be mad, but I blamed some things on you.” “Glad I could help.” “Yes, of course!” He clinked my glass jubilantly. “Many thanks! You’d do the same, I wouldn’t mind. Honest, though, poor Xandra, I think she was glad to see me. To see anyone. I mean—” throwing his shot back—“it was crazy… those bad friends… she was all alone out there. Drinking a lot, afraid to go to work. Something could have happened to her, easy—no neighbors, really creepy. Because Bobo Silver—well, Bobo was actually not so bad guy. ‘The Mensch’? They don’t call him that for nothing! Xandra was scared to death of him but he didn’t go after her for your dad’s debt, not serious anyway. Not at all. And your dad was in for a lot. Probably he realized she was broke—your dad had fucked her over good and proper, too. Might as well be decent about it. Can’t get blood out of a turnip. But those other people, those friends of hers so called, were mean like bankers. You know? ‘You owe me,’ really hard, fucking connected, scary. Worse than him! Not so big sum even, but she was still way short and they were being nasty, all—” (mocking head tilt, aggressive finger point) “ ‘fuck you, we’re not going to wait, you better figure something out,’ like that. Anyway—good I went back when I did because then I was able to help.” “Help how?” “By giving her back the moneys I took.”

“You’d kept it?” “Well, no,” he said reasonably. “Had spent it. But—had something else going, see. Because right after the coke ran out? I had taken the money to Jimmy at the gun shop and bought more. See, I was buying it for me and Amber—just the two of us. Very very beautiful girl, very innocent and special. Very young too, like only fourteen! But just that one night at MGM Grand, we had got so close, just sitting on the bathroom floor all night up at KT’s dad’s suite and talking. Didn’t even kiss! Talk talk talk! I all but wept from it. Really opened up our hearts to each other. And—” hand to his breastbone—“I felt so sad when the day came, like why did it have to be over? Because we could have sat there talking forever to each other! and been so perfect and happy! That’s how close we got to each other, see, in just that one night. Anyway—this is why I went to Jimmy. He had really shitty coke— not half so good as Stewart and Lisa’s. But everyone knew, see—everyone had heard about that weekend at MGM Grand, me with all that blow. So people came to me. Like—dozen people my first day back at school. Throwing their moneys at me. ‘Will you get me some… will you get me some… will you get some for my bro… I have ADD, I need it for my homework.…’ Pretty soon was selling to senior football players and half the basketball team. Lots of girls too… friends of Amber and KT’s… Jordan’s friends too… college students at UNLV! Lost money on the first few batches I sold—didn’t know what to ask, sold fat for low price, wanted everyone to like me, yah yah yah. But once I figured it out—I was rich! Jimmy gave me huge discount, he was making lots of green off it too. I was doing him big favor, see, selling drugs to kids too scared to buy them—scared of people like Jimmy who sold them. KT… Jordan… those girls had a lot of money! Always happy to front me. Coke is not like E—I sold that too, but it was up and down, whole bunch then none for days, for coka I had a lot of regulars and they called two and three times a week. I mean, just KT—” “Wow.” Even after so many years, her name struck a chord. “Yes! To KT!” We raised our glasses and drank. “What a beauty!” Boris slammed his glass down. “I used to get dizzy around her. Just to breathe her same air.”

“Did you sleep with her?” “No… God, I tried… but she gave me a hand job in her little brother’s bedroom one night when she was wasted and in a very nice mood.” “Man, I sure left at the wrong time.” “You sure did. I came in my pants before she even got the zip down. And KT’s allowance—” reaching for my empty shot glass. “Two thousand a month! That is what she got for clothes only! Only KT already has so many clothes it is like, why does she need to buy more? Anyway by Christmas for me it was like in the movies where they have the ching-ching and the dollar signs. Phone never stopped ringing. Everybody’s best friend! Girls I never saw before, kissing me, giving me gold jewelry off their own necks! I was doing all the drugs I could do, drugs every day, every night, lines as long as my hand, and still money everywhere. I was like the Scarface of our school! One guy gave me a motorcycle—another guy, a used car. I would go to pick my clothes from off the floor—hundreds of dollars falling out from the pockets—no idea where it came from.” “This is a lot of information, really fast.” “Well, tell me about it! This is my usual learning process. They say experience is good teacher, and normally is true, but I am lucky this experience did not kill me. Now and then… when I have some beers sometimes… I’ll maybe hit a line or two? But mostly I do not like it any more. Burned myself out good. If you had met me maybe five years ago? I was all like—” sucking in his cheeks—“so. But—” the waiter had reappeared with more herring and beer—“enough about all that. You—” he looked me up and down—“what? Doing very nicely for yourself, I’d say?” “All right, I guess.” “Ha!” He leaned back with his arm along the back of the booth. “Funny old world, right? Antiques trade? The old poofter? He got you in to it?” “That’s right.” “Big racket, I heard.” “That’s right.” He eyed me up and down. “You happy?” he said. “Not very.” “Listen, then! I have great idea! Come work for me!” I burst out laughing. “No, not kidding! No no,” he said, shushing me imperiously as I tried to talk over him, pouring me a new shot, sliding the glass across the table to me, “what is he giving you? Serious. I will give you two times.” “No, I like my job—” over-pronouncing the words, was I as wrecked as I sounded?—“I like what I do.” “Yes?” He lifted his glass to me. “Then why aren’t you happy?” “I don’t want to talk about it.” “And why not?” I waved my hand dismissively. “Because—” I’d lost track quite how many shots I’d had. “Just because.” “If not job then—which is it?” He had thrown back his own shot, tossing his head grandly, and started in on the new plate of herring. “Money problems? Girl?” “Neither.” “Girl then,” he said triumphantly. “I knew it.” “Listen—” I drained the rest of my vodka, slapped the table—what a genius I was, I couldn’t stop smiling, I’d had the best idea in years!—“enough of this. Come on—let’s go! I’ve got a big big surprise for you.” “Go?” said Boris, visibly bristling. “Go where?” “Come with me. You’ll see.” “I want to stay here.” “Boris—” He sat back. “Let it go, Potter,” he said, putting his hands up. “Just relax.” “Boris!” I looked at the bar crowd, as if expecting mass outrage, and then back at him. “I’m sick of sitting here! I’ve been here for hours.” “But—” He was annoyed. “I cleared this whole night for you! I had stuff to do! You’re leaving?” “Yes! And you’re coming with me. Because—” I threw my arms out —“you have to see the surprise!” “Surprise?” He threw down his balled-up napkin. “What surprise?” “You’ll find out.” What was the matter with him? Had he forgotten how to have fun? “Now come on, let’s get out of here.” “Why? Now?” “Just because!” The bar room was a dark roar; I’d never felt so sure of myself in my life, so pleased at my own cleverness. “Come on. Drink up!” “Do we really have to do this?” “You’ll be glad. Promise. Come on!” I said, reaching over and shaking his shoulder amicably as I thought. “I mean, no shit, this is a surprise you can’t believe how good.”

He leaned back with folded arms and regarded me suspiciously. “I think you are angry with me.” “Boris, what the fuck.” I was so drunk I stumbled, standing up, and had to catch myself on the table. “Don’t argue. Let’s just go.” “I think it is a mistake to go somewhere with you.” “Oh?” I looked at him with one half closed eye. “You coming, or not?” Boris looked at me coolly. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose and said: “You won’t tell me where we’re going.” “No.” “You won’t mind if my driver takes us then?” “Your driver?” “Sure. He is waiting like two-three blocks away.” “Fuck.” I looked away and laughed. “You have a driver?” “You don’t mind if we go with him, then?” “Why would I?” I said, after a brief pause. Drunk as I was, his manner had brought me up short: he was looking at me with a peculiar, calculating, uninflected quality I had never seen before. Boris tossed back the rest of his vodka and then stood up. “Very well,” he said, twirling an unlit cigarette loosely in his fingertips. “Let’s get this nonsense over with, then.”

[geminimoonbeamx]

Naive: Part 3

A/N: I’m so freaking happy you guys seemed to like the story so far!, I wrote this and a few other chapters up in one night! Hopefully I can get you guys as hyped as I am for this story. Oh and if you couldn’t already tell, the reader IS mixed race. Because there’s a serious lack of mixed race reader inserts. If this offends you or deters you just skim over it I guess??

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Just cursing in this chapter because I have the mouth of a sailor. Get ready for it to get smutttayyyyy next chapter tho, my home dogs!

Summary: As the goddaughter of Tony Stark you were no stranger to the Avengers, but when you meet the newest member- you’re a little more then intrigued. Unfortunately for him, Bucky Barnes has caught your eye.

💘💘💘💘💘

It’s honestly insane what a little bit of sleep can do to improve your life.

Well okay, a lot of sleep. You’d slept for like thirty hours straight, thank the mother fuckin’ lord and you felt like a brand new woman.

Especially after you take a couple bong rips.

Wake and baking was a way of life for you, had been since you we’re fifteen years old. There was just nothing like it.

You take a shower, deciding against getting dressed in real clothes and instead you wiggle into a pair of black lace trimmed lounge shorts, and then slip on a wireless bralette. It gives you no support of course, your supple breast sit comfortably and unrestrained. Just the way you liked them to be.

As you sit at your vanity and stare at your reflection in the mirror, your brain cloudy and happy; your eyes slightly red rimmed and low, you feel …numb. But a good numb. The numb you wished you can be forever. You rip the tie from your hair and it tumbles down from the bun it had been in and falls around your shoulders, the silky strands tickling your bare, fresh skin.

Do you think you’re pretty? Fuck yes. Do you think you’re fat? Also, fuck yes.

It was a concept that most people couldn’t seem to understand. How could you admit that you we’re fat and yet still sit and check yourself out in the mirror? Well because to you, fat was just a descriptive word. Not the heinous insult other people thought it was. Yes, you we’re fat. Just like you we’re smart. And fucking hilarious if you do say so yourself… and at the moment, extremely stoned.

Your confidence hadn’t appeared out of thin air, it was something that had been ingrained in you.

Because your mother had never made you question your worth. She didn’t give a shit about the numbers on a scale or cellulite. She didn’t care if your hair was wild and curly, curlier then her, a white woman had known how to handle for years. No- she cared if you we’re kind to others. If you we’re brave enough to go after you wanted and speak up for yourself.

So you had.

You broke away from that fat girls should wear baggy clothes and stay quiet and try to shrink themselves. Nah, fuck that. This fat girl was going to do whatever she wanted.

Did have negative thoughts about yourself sometimes? Duh, you’re a human being. Everyone has ugly thoughts sometimes, but mostly you we’re a little full of yourself.

Like now, as you blend on warm, smoky eyeshadow, carve your brows and contour your face. Drowning yourself in highlighter. Acentuating and defining all of the parts of your face that you loved. You liked primping and pampering yourself, loved all things beauty, really. Eyelash extensions, going for manicures, facials. They we’re all your jam.

When you’re satisfied with yourself, tossing and musing your hair until it falls around your head in a messy way that looks more sexy then homeless you rise, intent on going and finding Wanda or something.

Not wanting to be alone anymore.

You almost walk out of your living room in a bralette- because of comfort reasons but think twice as you pass the mirror by the door.

You really didn’t want to give Tony a coronary on this fine Thursday.

Why couldn’t we all just walk around naked? Everyone would be a lot more comfortable. It would probably bring world peace.

So after throwing on a loose shirt and a cape like McQueen floral kimono you slip into a fluffy pair of slides and start your epic journey to find sustenance, thinking about how human beings greatest down fall was when we made it a systematic norm to have to be clothed… what kind of crazy weed had Jessica sold you?

------

You don’t think it’s attention you like, and you’ve thought about it a lot.

No, it’s affection.

You’d always been a…touchy person, and it had tended to get you into trouble. You understood boundaries, you just hated them. You didn’t know why it was such a taboo to show the people you cared about that you cared. Why was intimacy in friendships so frowned upon? Why couldn’t you wrap your arms around your friends. Kiss them on the cheek? Cuddle with them?

It just had never been a big deal to you. You liked touching, and fuck, did you liked to be touched.

When you walk into the kitchen, you’re surprised to find the gathering there.

Nat, Wanda and Clint stand at the island, cutting up veggies and talking between themselves. Thor and Bruce sit at a table with Steve and Bucky. It all seems so…pleasant. One of those rare quaint, normal moments in the tower. It would make anyone smile.

“Goodmorning, sunshines” You greet them as you walk in.

You steal a piece of tomato from Natasha’s cutting board and plop it into you mouth.

“Y/N you are aware that it’s almost one, right?” She informs you with a smile to which you just shrug.

“Technicalities. It’s still noon-ish so it’s morning…pretty much”

“Flawed way of thinking you got there, squirt” Clint criticized. His eleven year old had better sleeping habits then you.

“Flawed or brilliant?”

“You sound just like Tony” Bruce calls from his place across the room and you pull your head from the fridge.

“Why thanks”

When you cant find anything that catches your eye in the massive fridge, even though its brightly lit with an array of food, you call for FRIDAY and ask her if she could have the chef cook you up some Nutella crepes, “please and thank you!”

“How high are you right now?” Wanda reaches over to whisper to you knowingly and you lean forward to rest your chin on her shoulder, her long dark hair tickling your face pleasantly.

“Super. You have to try this shit that I got from Jessica, it’s crazy” You reply, your breath hot on her ear so that she’s the only one who can hear you.

The both of you break out in to giggles, girlish and young sounding. Wanda missed this, the having a connection like this with someone. Welcoming and relishing another’s touch in a way that was both intimate and utterly innocent.

She’d had it with Pietro…and then he’d gone and left her alone and she thought that was the end of it.

But then you’d gotten close to her, befriended her, and there it was again. Being able to just, melt with someone was something that should be cherished. She cherished her friendship with you. The way you let her lean into you with no resistance. You and your bright eyes and contagious laugh. She felt…she felt more like Wanda when she was with you. Less like Scarlett Witch.

Bucky hadn’t meant to watch you for as long as he had. He’d turned to you when you’d entered the room and hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away, for more then mere moments, since. It was a mixture of the tiny shorts you had on, the way the black lacy material rode up your sumptuous thighs…but mostly it was your interaction with Wanda. He wasn’t particularly close to her(he wasn’t particularly close to anyone except for Steve and Sam…although he’d never admit it) but he’d never seen the girl like this. Like you’d somehow lit her up from the inside.

The two of you we’re whispering and laughing like school girls, carefree and light and it stirred something in his stomach.

His eyes snap away as you approach the table.

“Hello sirs” you salute as you come up and take the seat in between Steve and Thor. It’s comical how intensely the two men dwarf you.

“Hello little woman” Thor squeezes your shoulder, his big palm encompassing the flesh “How was your sleep? It seems like it’s been days since you graced us with your presence”

You cant help bite your lips together to hide a grin. Would you ever get over the regal manner in which Thor talked?

Probably not.

“Yeah, Y/N. How are you feeling today? Less drowsy?” It’s the tone in Bruce’s voice you don’t like, not his words. He’s using his doctor’s voice on you.

Yes, Bruce knew about your…situation. Tony had told him, with your permission, so that he could help monitor the process. You didn’t mind him knowing, you just didn’t want him blowing it and everyone finding out about it. It was a sensitive subject for you and you’d rather keep it quiet. It’s not that you didn’t trust the others its just…you weren’t ready for it to be public knowledge.

You didn’t want to be looked at differently.

“I’m fine” You play it off “My sleeping schedule’s just been off. I just had to reset my internal clock to the eastern time zone. No biggie’”

Bruce wants to ask you more but he’s a smart man, and decides he’d press the issue later in the privacy of the lab. He knew what it was like to want to keep a secret, and he wasn’t about to go making you uncomfortable by blowing yours.

You reach over to steal one of the fries off of Steve’s plate, sticking you tongue out at him “How has you guy’s day been so far? No alien invasions yet?”

You had a way of setting the atmosphere, keeping it light.

You talk with the guys until Bruce leaves, needing to go run some labs or smash some things…okay that was an asshole joke, you chastise yourself. You didn’t like teasing him about his little green problem, Thor follows him. Talking about some meeting he was being “forced unwillingly to attend”

“Good luck, big guy” You kiss his cheek before he leaves.

“So really, what have you guys been up to today” You ask the two men you’re left with as you cut into your crepes.

“Nothin’ much, it’s been a quiet one so far. Just training. I was thinking about going for a walk later on, maybe Central Park? Get some sketching in while I can” Steve answers.

“You drawing more, Steve? That’s amazing! You’ll have to show me some of your stuff sometime! I remember they were always so good” You urge him excitedly. Since you’d known him, you’d tried to push him to take his art seriously. Fuck knows it was his only release. You had a feeling even Steve Rogers had a breaking point, you also had no desire to ever see it.

Only Steve’s ears turn red, which is actually progress for him “Yeah, I can do that”

“Really? So a pretty girl asks to see your sketchbook and your game, but I, your best friend cant?” Bucky sees an opening and cant help but take it “Whatta’ Jerk”

Okay, where did that come from? You fight to keep the shock off of your face. Pretty girl? Really?

“Well she’s not a crap critic like you are” Steve justifies himself “Last time I showed you somethin’ you told me that I couldn’t draw dog paws for shit”

“Hey, I was just kidding. That was about a year ago, too!” Bucky sounds truly apologetic and you break out into a squawk of laughter.

“You guys are so married, oh my god” You shake your head at the two of them. It’s cute… seeing them together. Both of their guards way down.

“Don’t encourage his behavior, Y/N” Steve’s trying not to chuckle.

You turn your attention to Bucky then, your body literally angling towards him as you focus in. “What about you, Bucky? Any big plans?”

Why? Why does his brain turn off when you look at him like that? Your gleaming eyes looking at nothing but his face.

“Uh- nothing yet, doll”

“Awe if I didn’t have to go shopping I’d say lets have our marathon!”

“Marathon?” Steve wonders, his eyes flashing between the two of you.

“Yeah, I’m going to force Bucky to watch Harry Potter with me. You know, bring his life great enlightenment and fulfilment” You answer him nonchalantly, taking a bite of your food. Letting out a little moan and crossing your eyes “Oh my gosh this is amazing”

Did you mean to look so sexual? The way your pretty lipstick coated lips wrapped around that fork had Bucky tensing.

“No really you guys, who even is this new chef? Is he the second coming of Christ? Taste this!” You encourage as you cut another piece and hold it out to Bucky, your hand under it incase it falls.

He doesn’t know what to do. Does he turn you down? Would that be rude? Would it hurt your feelings?

So he just opens his mouth and allows you to feed him the sweet pastry.

“Amazing, huh?”

“Mmhmm, really good” is all Bucky mumbles, trying to keep the heat from his face.

“Steve try it!” You urge, pouting a little when he doesn’t let you shove your fork in his mouth.

As tempting as the offer was- Nutella and the look on your face- Steve had learned his lesson. What if Tony came in and saw you spoon feeding him? Nope.

“I just ate a burger, I gotta’ watch my physique” He teases and your eyebrows knit together.

“Really, take a bite. I’m sure your physique can handle it. Here” You give him the fork so that he can feed himself.

Since when was Steve weird with you like that? You used to be able to…flow with him. Without even thinking about it?

You shrug it off as pot linked paranoia. Just because he didn’t let you spoon feed him didn’t mean you guys weren’t still close. Right?

“Hey are we still going shopping?” Wanda asks as she comes up “If so I’m going to go change?”

“Yeah! Definitely. I need to find a new backpack before I start school again next week. And yeah, I need to change too, you can come get ready with me in my room if you want” You stand quickly, scooting away from the table “You guys can have the rest of that. See ya’ later, gentleman"

And with that your sashaying out of the room with Wanda.

Steve notices Bucky staring at the sway of your hips.

“Bud…”

“Shut up, Steve”

“I told you. Y/N- She’s- Something else” Steve searches for the words “But the kid’s Tony’s pride and joy and we’re still on thin ice with the guy”

“How old is she anyway?” Bucky completely ignores the Tony part of Steve’s sentence. Why’d everyone call her kid? She looked a little young, with that dimpled smile but she was in college so she couldn’t be AS young as they treated her.

“Twenty three” Steve’s response is curt. Matter of fact.

Twenty three, huh? Bucky thinks. That is a little young…a lot younger then his near century. Not young enough for it to deter him, though.

Bucky doesn’t know what to say for a moment. Neither of them do really. It’s quiet as Steve eats the reminder of the crepes because holy shit you hadn’t been lying they were sent from heaven.

Then, Bucky’s handsome face stretches into a devilish smile. One Steve had seen many a’ time.

“She’s got a nice pair of gams on her, doesn’t she?”

Steve tries to purse his lips, but fails in hiding his own wolfish expression.

“That she does”

———

Because even though Steve is Captain America we all know he’s still that little shit from Brooklyn at heart right? Especially when Bucky’s around. Lesbi-honest here I have the major hots for Wanda and it’s taking all of my will power not to write her as a love interest but I really want to focus on a close, strong female friendship…even though I’m dying to have Y/N get her some Wanda😩

As usual give me some feedback! Going to slow? Too fast? Is Y/N too…touchy? What do you think the pills are for and do you want to be tagged? Tellllll me ya’ll

@devenrenee @skeletoresinthebasement @kendallefire @mellifluousbabe @toniinhere @agentmstark @purplekitten30 @bellaballanda @yslbucky @arabellaaurorabarnes @prinxessofspace @supernaturally-lucky @sngforme @kyritha  @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @peaceloveancolor @gabwinchester-dixon