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cinnamonest · 3 years ago

Text

Okay so for some reason, the last post I just made posted very strangely and cut off a bunch of my sentences? Anyway, reposting with screenshot:

Oh no you're absolutely correct lol I am self-aware of it, kinda like when I made this post a long time ago Fun fact: abnormally high sex drives are one of the qualifiers for obtaining a vision! Celestia just looks at a person like "oh you're like HORNY horny, here's a vision". But anyhow, what this tells me is there is a need for analysis. We are doing this. I want to say they're all on like the 7-10 range with a few outliers. Kinda like the severity scale but for horniness. There's also a matter of like how perverted/horny one is versus the amount of times a day they actually have sex... of course for fully human boys, usually they can only have so many orgasms (average is like 4 for an adult male) before they're shooting blanks, but that doesn't apply to non-humans. Either way, even the boys that only fuck like once or twice a day are still more horny than the average person (the average for an adult is about twice a week), so they earn their ranks.

Here is my objectively correct mathematically calculated and scientifically tested conclusion:

7: Chongyun*, Zhongli 8: Diluc, Bennett, Ayato 9: Xingqiu, Thoma, Scaramouche 10: Venti, Kaeya, Childe, Albedo, Kazuha 11: Gorou, Razor, Xiao*

----------- Xingqiu, Bennett, and Chongyun all have that horny teenage boy energy going on, but the thing is Chongyun has very specifically and intentionally trained to deal with it in the sense of the normal "sporadic thoughts" type of drive. He can calm any such "urges" and can sort of keep the horny at bay. The asterisk is there, though, because he can easily jump up the scale to a 10 when under the influence of mania, particularly for any extended period of time. The unfortunate thing is that said mania is easily triggered by like... anything. Like, he can control the default sex drive and intrusive thoughts, but gods forbid you hold his hand or something or he cannot be held responsible for the following actions. Overall: if he can control himself, he can wait until nighttime and do it once or twice before falling asleep, but would go more if you let him or if he's extra horny. Very good at keeping it out of his thoughts.

---- Zhongli probably fits into this tier (but like... still literally an 7/10) solely because similar to Chongyun he has learned over time to have really good self-control so he can focus on necessary tasks, to the point that if he has something that must be done, his mind will concentrate on that matter. But it's also due to having a sexuality that's what you might call "progressive sexuality", in which arousal sort of builds slowly under certain stimuli. This is actually a very good thing because unlike with some people you won't just get cock shoved inside you at a moment's notice, it's nice and slow and there's a good buildup to everything you do. ...Also note that this applies pretty much only to him now. Morax of back-in-the-day was... another story, probably more in line with Xiao later on down the list. Overall: often once or twice a day, but very long, drawn out sessions themselves. Perfectly capable of separating his thoughts and saves sexuality for when it's appropriate and he's not too busy, but can appreciate little "distractions". But all of this can quickly be overwritten if you make him too hot. ---- Amongst the small boy squad™, Bennett is in between Chongyun and Xingqiu. He just doesn't quite match Xingqiu's drive, but he lacks Chongyun's self control. Unlike both of those two, though, he can actually manage to do romantic things and enjoy them for what they are without immediately wanting to turn it into a sex thing, and to be honest, a lot of his thoughts are more romantic and wholesome, it's actually really cute. He's also much better at controlling himself specifically around you, for the time being... although he's still going to jerk off a lot when he gets home, he'll still actually wait until then, he can keep himself from doing anything to you. If you've reached a point where you're comfortable with him, though, he still likes doing a lot of wholesome things and romantic things and fun things, but they end up leading to sex at the end of the day. Overall: very good at self-control, thoughts tend to be wholesome but can get sexual. Maybe once or twice a day depending on how your day goes. ---- Diluc is still relatively high drive, but it's very dependent on his emotional state. He needs to be in the ideal emotional state, because he's a lot more sensitive than he lets on and if he gets in a mood where you said or did something to make him all hurty and upset, he won't be able to be horny or anything... you have to usually wait for him to get over it on his own, as attempts to offer sex as a means of making him happy will be met with suspicion. Similarly, his other moods can impact his drive as well -- if he's under a lot of stress or mad about something unrelated to you, it's actually a lot higher, because he's conditioned himself to use orgasms as a method of stress relief, and ever since he got you, you have become his equivalent of a stress squeeze ball. However, under normal circumstances, he's sort of like Zhongli in that it's a buildup/progressive, but progresses much faster. Overall: 2-3 times a day, but with a LOT of buildup/the sessions themselves are very long leading up to the actual sex. ---- Ayato I feel like has basically been forced to learn to hyperfocus on the task at hand, similar to Chongyun. So he gets hyperfocused on certain matters that need to be dealt with, and gets so absorbed in that that he can't really think of anything else or focus on other needs while resolving some major problem (it's not the only need he neglects too, sometimes you have to remind him to eat and sleep because he's so involved with something). He's not so much the type to take breaks to get out the stress like some and prefers to push straight through without stopping, but this actually has an amusing result because that just means it bottles up without him realizing it. It's as if his body has a "pause" button, but when you unpause the entire video starts playing at 3x speed to catch up for the time paused. When he's done with the task, all those pent-up hormones tend to come out all at once. So essentially, his drive varies from day to day -- you'll get a few days of next to nothing, and then immediately followed by a few days getting so stuffed with cum you feel like a water balloon. Overall: some days literally 0, followed by like 4-5 in a single day and repeat. ---- Thoma kinda is in an unfortunate position because his drive is higher than, but has a similar attitude to Bennett/Chongyun where he wants so badly to be a good respectful boy... it's not his fault his darling has fleshy parts that look very grabbable... what other reason would you even have them to begin with, if not to be used as handlebars?? But no, no, he keeps telling himself to be good and respectful... so he tries to take his mind off of it. Through frequently jerking off at night, he manages to make it so that he's too spent in that regard to get horny throughout the day, and thus keep the libido down. ...That being said, while it keeps intrusive thoughts at bay, it doesn't help with his body's natural reactions to visual stimuli. But he's still able to think about other things and keep it down. Overall: 2-3 times a day, if you've accepted him, a good of thoughts and easily stimulated, but he pushes the thoughts away and clears his mind quite a bit. ---- Scaramouche is a bit of an interesting case because it's a lot higher than it comes off. If you went on his outward behavior alone, you'd think he's more around like. A 3 or 4 or so. A lot of it has to do with his general discomfort and embarrassment on the subject and need to get comfortable with you with time. So he never really shows it outwardly, but yes, it is on his mind a lot more often than he lets on, and he also jerks off a lot more than most people would think, although he holds himself back a lot, which makes him more frustrated. But around you, he feels too vulnerable and pathetic if he made it obviously clear he desperately wants to fuck you, so he tends to just pass it off as if he's bored or just wanting to harm you. Interestingly, one of the few ways to actually see his drive in full, unmasked force is a darling that, be it by mindbreak or just something about your nature, actually loves the bastard and just allows him to be the way he is without complaint, and is openly affectionate no matter what. In which case, he gets more used to it, and both the transparency of wanting it without having to come up with an excuse and the frequency will greatly increase. Overall: drawn-out sessions, lots of intrusive thoughts, maybe 2 times a day for normal darling and 4-5 times for a loving affectionate darling. ---- Xingqiu is basically just unrestrained. He was definitely allowed to get away with a lot in formative years and while he was taught restraint and self-control in literally every other aspect of life, this is the one area where he wasn't. Nor, you know, respect for the autonomy of others... sigh. Especially not if you're already basically his or in an arranged marriage sort of deal, in which case he has no reason to show restraint. As aforementioned, he's got your typical horny teen boy jacked up on hormones thing going on, leading to him just having sporadic cravings at random throughout the day. Also note that unlike Diluc, you can make his mood do a complete 180 if he's upset by being like "hey you want your dick sucked :)" to which he will immediately forgive most things and go back to being very happy because his hormones are just kinda like "so uh you done being sad yet bc--" Overall: 3 times a day-ish, whether or not there's a lot of buildup varies. Sometimes there's a lot of building up tension and heat, and sometimes it's very sudden. ---- The 10 tier are all just horny bastards. Venti is probably the worst offender here as far as openness. Venti can and will whip his dick out without the slightest hint of shame at a moment's notice and that is a threat. Like if you call his name in a way he can interpret as remotely suggestive to come into the room where you are, he will be naked and fully hard in the 3.7 seconds it takes to walk to you. But it's also more just perpetual perversion too - the whole thing where he just sort of take every opportunity to get "hugs" that just so happen to stuff his face into some tiddy, upskirt you, grope and generally be a little voyeur perv -- although he's very open about it and doesn't really try to hide it. So basically it's not always necessarily a drive to actually physically have sex then and there, just that he thinks about it very frequently, even when he's not actively trying to get inside you. Overall: very horny, lots of thoughts, but likes to draw stuff out. Maybe only 2 or three times a day, but near-constant perversions you're subjected to.

---- Kaeya is... the way that he is. He's certainly never going to say no. He's a "sex is the answer not the question" type of guy. The only real difference between him and Childe below is he manages to not let the horny seep into his public persona... not too much at least. He's still a fairly flirtatious person, but it doesn't come off as being like, overtly sexual unless it's to a darling. He still has an air of dignity and preservation of his self-image and doesn't want to come off as immature or anything, especially in a workplace setting. That being said, it's still in his head a lot, lots of intrusive little thoughts throughout the day, and when it is you he's dealing with, he gets a lot more aggressive and sexual in the way he interacts. More suggestive, and more importantly, more touchy. His thoughts sort of bounce back and forth -- he can focus on work and other things, but can also get completely "distracted" within a single instant. In private is when it all really comes pouring out, in which case, it's just like Venti and Childe where it's not like he's 24/7 trying to get inside you, but he's certainly trying to do something vaguely sexual most of the time and will certainly grope and rub his way into fucking you multiple times, repeating that cycle over and over, and will do literally anything to obtain it.

Overall: focused but can easily be distracted by stimuli, your existence sort of serves as stimuli. Intrusive thoughts are frequent but not too bad, but made worse with stimuli. 4 times a day if he has a day off, but if he's super tired from work can only fit in like 2-3.

---- But then there is Childe. I want to say he's basically horny at all times except fighting, but to be honest I'm pretty certain violence actually makes him rock hard so not even the art of battle is sacred. Unlike Kaeya he doesn't even have the sense of dignity/appropriateness or maturity thing going on, he has the maturity of a 14-year-old boy sometimes and will make constant vulgar innuendos and jokes. Often at your expense/about you. Often in settings where he very much should not be saying those things. Sigh. He's sort of like Venti in the sense that he's not going to be literally trying to have sex every waking second or anything, but will more or less have it constantly on his mind and his actions reflect that that is the way he is inclined to think. He's stressed? Let him just stuff his face in your chest. He's sad? Flash him please. Just one, one second of tiddy is all he needs to see and if not he's going to die of deprivation. Unlike Kaeya/Venti, his thoughts are pretty much always there in some capacity, on the back burner of his mind so to speak, whereas those two are very frequent but not so near-constant as him. His horny nature tends to bleed out into hearing him talk about anything else. Also, he seems to never run out of energy for it somehow. Overall: perpetual intrusive thoughts, maybe 5 times a day, never too tired to fit in as much as he can, sessions are of average length/low buildup because he gets impatient. ---- Kazuha is similar to Scaramouche (and Albedo below) in that it almost seems contradictory. He's so soft-spoken and sweet that you wouldn't really realize how frequently he's got fantasies going on in his head (or the degree of their depravity). Kazuha is actually our #1 winner in the "fully human" division of boys, the above him are all non-human in some capacity. One unique thing is that in his formative years, he had a lot of time to himself out in the open in solitude, and he got to a point where fantasizing literally became a way to just pass the time when he had nothing else to do but stare at his feet as he walked. So he has learned to have a lot of thoughts without needing to immediately deal with said thoughts, but because he has conditioned himself to it, at even just a few minutes of boredom or the slightest lack of anything to do, his brain sort of automatically switches into fantasizing mode, even if the situation is something normal and inappropriate/public like waiting in line at a street vendor, stuck in a boring conversation with someone, or when he's trying to fall asleep at night. With you, he retains the same level of thoughts, but his actual drive to act on them goes up a lot, he's slightly got a reactive sexuality, and he's very touchy. He's actually like a normal guy in the sense that he will start getting dry orgasms around 3-4 times, but he just... keeps fucking you anyway because somehow he's still horny. Overall: 5 times a day or so, constant intrusive thoughts. ---- Similarly, Albedo is actually very high, you just won't know it. Not until you have no choice but to learn that fact, at least. He's one of those boys that can just sit there with a completely straight face and speak in a monotone voice while absolute unspeakable filth is going on inside his brain. And he does -- he's slightly hypersexual, has a lot of intrusive thoughts more or less all throughout the day that just pop into his head at random, which is how he's learned to keep a straight face and calm demeanor all the while and continue to do work while he fantasizes (unlike Kaeya/Ayato, he's basically mastered the art of somehow managing to do both at once so there's no need to focus). A lot of times in your early days together before he takes you away, he does the thing where he's zoned out and will sort of "...sorry, what?" and you chuckle because haha, he's so absent-minded sometimes... like, yes, his mind was on other things, namely picturing what you would look like with his hands around your throat. However, his sessions aren't drawn out nor have buildup, it's very sporadic and short. Oh, and fun fact, he was very specifically designed to be able to cum more times a day than a normal human. So for the average adult male, they can go about 5 times on average before having dry orgasms, but for him it's more around 8. Overall: 6-7 times a day on average, constant thoughts. ---- Notably the 3 in the 11 tier are all there because of their animal ties/biology and physiology. Gorou's is a given, obvious. Breed. It's a biological imperative. It's a need. And hey, have some understanding and empathy for him! Knots can feel so painful when they swell up and have no hole to put them in :( You will provide him with much-needed relief. He's actually less perverted/has less frequent intrusive thoughts than the five boys on the 10 tier, but he earns his place on this tier solely because of how many times a day he can go. He's actually very focused on his work and missions, but if he gets distracted, he gets really distracted, to the point of being unable to control himself. Which is a big factor at play here: his brain simply has very low self-control if he gets too into the heat of feelings and urges. He just wasn't thinking. You try to take some preventative measures of wearing more covering clothing and the like, but it seems to be to no avail. He has his limits, but you usually find yourself begging for no more today before he hits that limit. Normally, he gets horny in intervals as he trains -- an intense training or sparring session can get him a little too excited and he has to run back to his quarters to get that excitement out or else the rather prominent bulge will become noticeable. Which sounds reasonable, except it happens like... a lot, far more than a human could manage, and is ready to go several more rounds once he finally is off duty for the day. Overall: around 10-11 times a day, not so much intrusive thoughts so much as extremely sensitive to stimuli. ---- Xiao has the asterisk because it's sort of a complicated thing. See, prior to your presence, he actually had a virtually non-existent drive. Once a day or every other day or so, he would get that weird pressure feeling, go up to a mountaintop somewhere far away from anything else, and just use his hand to get rid of the problem... it actually irritated him, he saw it as a waste of time to have these stupid urges. His brain sort of shifts when you come along. It's like turning on a light switch. Before, his body had no reason to be horny, no holes to breed, poor thing... now, his brain has registered that he has a mate. Now there is a reason, and his brain tells his body to kick it into full gear. Which is unfortunate for you, due to his lack of any refractory, as well as a lack of an orgasm limit -- again, not only regarding how guys essentially run out of cum and start having dry orgasms, but you know how if you keep having orgasms several times in one day, each one tends to get a bit harder to achieve? Or how after a while if you keep having orgasms over and over, you stop really feeling as horny? He doesn't experience that. There is simply no limit. And more importantly, as always, he has a hard time understanding that you are different from him and literally, physically cannot take it. Truly a menace. Overall: ∞ times a day, you have to be the one to forcibly tell him no more, and you will because if you do not he will continue to (unknowingly) test both the physical limits of your pussy and your sanity. ---- And then there's Razor. Razor is a biological anomaly. Razor's sheer iron-strength unstoppable force of a libido can and will baffle Teyvat's finest scientists. Because there's nothing in Razor's biology that should make him the way that he is. At the end of the day, raised by wolves or not, biologically he's still just... some guy. A human. Science cannot explain how this boy can nut so many times in one day and still be producing cum. He beats out Xiao solely on the fact that he doesn't need a darling to possess the drive, nor does darling intensify/increase his drive -- it's already pretty much at maximum capacity and literally cannot go higher, but now he just has something other than his hand (and the poor small hydro slimes he has... experimented with... they're basically a DIY make-your-own fleshlight waiting to be used, can't blame him) to channel that drive into. If you could look into his mind at any given time that he's just staring into space doing nothing (which he does rather frequently), and project his thoughts somehow, it's like... 50% a static tv screen and 50% thoughts about breeding darling. His brain is determined to breed by all means possible and produces the sheer willpower necessary to nut in darling as many times as physically possible. Your life will never know peace. Overall: there's... probably a limit there somewhere? But you'll likely never find it. Head empty, only darling.

So, to summarize, if we're going from lowest to highest: Chongyun < Zhongli < Bennett < Diluc < Ayato < Thoma < Scaramouche < Xingqiu < Kaeya < Venti < Childe < Kazuha < Albedo < Gorou < Xiao < Razor This has been an educational PSA.

#lena's asks

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natewriteslol · 4 years ago

Note

Hey! Could i request the dorm leaders with an esper MC? Kinda like Mob psycho or Saiki k :) and maybe they don't really use this ability of theirs that much since in their world they're literally a teen who's trying to live a normal life(like Mob basically), so nobody knew about their psychic powers except Grim since the mirror said that he couldnt sense any magic in them(i'm pretty sure that psychic powers don't really count as magic but idk lol).

Feel free to ignore if you don't wanna write it! :)

A/N: Ooh this was a fun one! I haven't watched Mob Psycho (I know about that fine ass blonde man-) but I have watched Saiki k and I loved it, still need to finish it tho jlafljhdas

Characters: Kalim Al-Asim, Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Vil Schoenheit, Azul Ashengrotto, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia

P.S: I’m so sorry this is so long omg but I guess this is a strong comeback-

Warnings: none except for language

Riddle:

-You wanted to stay as far away as possible from him

-Riddle was part of the trio of people you wanted to stay away from: Riddle, Vil, and Azul

-Riddle paid so much attention to fine details that if something was up, he'd definitely notice it

-But unfortunately you were best friends with the two goobers of Heartslabyul: Ace and Deuce

-And Riddle had started to pay attention to you and your habits, and something was off with you

-It's almost as though you tried too hard to be normal, like Jamil

-And he could never let something like that happen again, so yes he was watching you

-One day you accidently slipped up and was irresponsible with your powers

-Grim was bothering you since he got into a deal with Azul for tuna and they were standing outside with the twins, since Grim lost

-You told him to fend for himself and teleported, however you didn’t plan where you would go

-And you teleported into the Heartslabyul dorm

-What sucks is that your teleportation power was literally flashy with a bright ass green light every time you popped in somewhere

-Just when you thought you were lucky since the whole dorm was uninhabited...except for Riddle who watched the whole thing

-He was completely shocked, he didn’t know what to say other than “What did you just do?!”

-You explained to him, and that just pieced everything together

-How you solved overblots with such ease, and that one day you had a “strength potion to test for Azul” was such bs!

-Riddle ends up keeping your secret, since he values your privacy but if you do something major and mess up then he will tell!

-”I understand but please be more careful with your powers. I need to institute discipline and you are no exception, Y/N.”

-He really does care about you and doesn’t want you to be found out

-Goes the extra mile to cover for you often, and in exchange you help him out with things :)

Leona:

-He didn't really care about you at first but as you started to hang Jack and Ruggie, Leona started to get more suspicious

-Your scent had proven that you had some trace of magic, but Leona just couldn't put his finger on it

-So he sent Ruggie after you for a couple of days

-If you were a threat to Savanaclaw, Leona would crush you

-But Ruggie had only reported back that everything with you was perfectly normal

-"Just give it up Leona, they're just an ordinary human. The scent is probably weird because they're from a completely different world."

-But Leona still had that feeling, so he was keeping an eye on you

-You had made a deal with Crowley to keep your powers secret to solve problems on campus (it did cut repair costs and handymen costs in half so-)

-Your new quest was to rid the forest of the Angolo fungus that was manifesting into living fungus blobs

-The one thing that gave you away was Grim, as you both had to stop by the Greenhouse to read some info about the fungus

-The cat beast was being far too loud, not understanding why he had to go and mess around with the icky fungus

-You simply replied “It’ll be quick, I’ll just use Hydrokinesis and dry out the fungus since they’re mainly filled with water. They become fertilizer once dried so we can just leave them there.”

-And there Leona was, ears perked up once he heard your voice

-Hydrokinesis? What are you talking about?

-So he set off, following you to the forest

-You started to fly, turning the once green and lively fungus to brown dust while Grim napped against a tree

-Leona for the first time in the while, was left speechless

-Once you noticed him, you realized you had to talk to him

-Confronting him later on, luckily Leona didn’t spill to anyone

-He promised to never tell anyone about what he saw, and had no clapbacks for what you had to say

- Leona doesn’t even benefit from this secret...besides mayyybee one day asking for your help if his pride lets him

-By the Great Seven why does everything have to not be in his favor-

Azul:

-Another one who you have got to be careful around, since he’s incredibly observant

-More observant than Riddle

-Azul noticed that you’re an incredibly average person, and were incredibly relaxed even during the most stressful situations

-And almost every single time whenever you were in a tight spot, it works in your favor

-Just how is that possible? Solving overblots left and right? Every single time you disappeared the infestation of magical beasts are gone?

-One day, you were getting picked on by a three guys, their stature far above yours and incredibly strong. How could you possibly win?

-Just as he was about to scoop in a save you, you slammed one of the men into the concrete, taking on the other two by electrocuting them, the blue lightning buzzing in your palms

-They were completely knocked out, dusting off your palms and picking up your things only to face Azul’s eyes

-After giving an explanation of what that was, he was still speechless

-Azul at first was incredibly shocked and then since Azul is Azul... later on realized this had benefits

-He could just blackmail you to be his new bodyguard!

-Oh how he always manages to bend life to his will-!

-So you could just wipe his memory... or turn him into stone...nvm

-You’re now Azul’s arch nemesis since you end up saving people from his scamming and you’re basically untouchable and there’s nothing he can do about it

-But he does find your great strength admirable (and a lil hot, I mean what can u say seeing someone floating in the air with electricity flowing through them is a nice look okay Nate shut up)

Kalim:

-Oh Kalim my beloved

-He just thinks that you’re incredibly talented and a little mysterious

-You have your little quirks and he has his! Who is he to judge?

-Until one day you wanted to make the load lighter on Jamil, since the berries that Kalim had requested for were only in season in one country

-You decided to just teleport and then come back with the berries so Kalim wouldn’t be pouty

-You were outside the door ready to teleport when last minute you felt a hand on your shoulder

- “Oh Y/N you forgot-!”

-And there both you and Kalim were, in a berry field thousands of miles away from the Scarabia dorm

-Kalim screams, falling to the lush green of the field

-What happened?! Where are we?! How did you do that?!

-You quickly gathered all the berries at light speed, making sure that you got back before Jamil realized that you were gone

-Kalim wasn’t scared of you, rather impressed that you were able to keep a secret for that long, he could never!

-You’re already super cool, and on top of this you have otherwordly powers!

- “It must’ve been stressful living your life like this! But don’t worry, I’ll keep your secret!”

-Yes he sometimes asks you to perform some of your powers for him, sorry Y/N-

Vil:

-While you were his friend, he was incredibly suspicious of you

-Even though you wiped everyone’s memory, he still had the faint memory of when he was in overblot mode of you blasting him with a beam of light

-Vil was incredibly upset as one of his assistants had mixed up his items, and left one of his vital skincare items on the set of where they were filming a new commercial

-It was being shipped and would take 3 days to reach NRC

-His mood was horrible and you had to do something about it to give grace to the Pomefiore dorm

-So you went to the second story of the Pomefiore dorm, ready to use Apport (the power to pull anything before you)

-However, Vil felt incredibly guilty

-He was acting like a child and he shouldn’t have taken it out on the people who he loves and values

- “Y/N, how I was acting was incredibly inappropriate and- is that my moisturizer? How did you get it?”

-Starts freaking out as this was impossible as it was on it’s way from being shipped from another country

-This was the last straw for him ther was no justification for this that wasn't done by some form of magic

-He takes you to his room to make you sit down and give him an explanation for this

-Once you finished, Vil understood but was still freaked out

-He cares alot about keeping your powers a secret and will cover for you

-"So my aport powers need to exchange something of equal value so... I exchanged it with that Scucci purse over there-

-"MY LIMITED EDITION SCUCCI PURSE?!"

-He loves you, but you're dead to him, Y/N dear

Idia:

-Before he knew you, he didn't really notice anything off with you

-A little quiet sure but he minded his own business, he had bigger things to focus on

-Until you hung around Ignihyde more often for a project, fixing a huge generator by yourself for one of your partners for a project

-They took a break only after you told them that they could and apprehensive went to go get food and water

-Anyone with eyes could see that there's an overbearing amount of energy flowing through the fairly large sized cube

-Wait, you were wearing no gloves, you could get electrocuted! Why would have your bare hands on something like that?!

-Just as he was able to yell, it was too late, your whole body was flowing with the bright blue energy... and then you let go

-You were walking completely fine, you went and held a random wire on the ground, placing the electricity inside

-The static from your hair was gone, and you looked completely normal. . .

-Just what the hell are you?

-He did hours of research trying to figure you out, even sending Ortho to monitor you

-Yet there was nothing, you were just a “regular teen”

-Was ready to get S.T.Y.X.S on your ass- (is that too soon to joke abt my bad overblot boys-)

-Until one day he caught you again bending electricity to your will

-Is incredibly impressed with your power (lowkey wanting to experiment on you)

-After he realizes that you can read minds Idia is so damn frightened

- “O-Okay I promise not to say anything, just don’t tell anyone what I’m thinking a-alright?!”

Malleus:

-You were one of the only people who he trusted

-Malleus had always detected some form of magical aura that was otherworldly from you and it never seemed to fade

-And it wasn’t often, but it was almost like you knew what he was thinking

-Whenever he was deeply upset he felt a twinge of energy from you, and then you would insist and help him out with his problems

-And he flat out says “Are you reading my mind, Y/N?”

-You had never been directly outed like this before, you felt horrible

-You never read people’s minds unless it was very necessary

-whenever Malleus felt deeply gloomy you felt like it was important to just read his mind and help him with the problem

-You explained it to him and apologized, but he wasn’t upset

-In fact, he was smiling?

- “It seems like we have alot of things that we’re hiding from each other. But... you always had the best intentions whenever you used your abilities”

-He let out a sigh and reluctantly admitted, “And, I know that I’m quite stubborn with revealing my feelings.”

- “I will keep your secret as long as you keep mine, Child of Man,” the dragon fae said, you both shaking on it

- “I always had a feeling that you were special, but I never thought it would be something of this caliber...”

788 notes · View notes

heyiwrotesomethings · 4 years ago

Text

Calling Out For Her

Cassandra Dimitrescu x She/Her Reader

A/N: Cassandra is my favorite I just love that girl. I thought it was real neat that Lady D could just call out for her and she’d appear so that inspired this. Some typical resident evil violence and language in here and Cassandra isn’t exactly nice at first, but she figures out how to be personable...kinda. Thanks for reading! Word Count: 6,158

(Y/n) was exceptionally careful. If tasked to understand what had allowed her to survive in the castle for so long, she would say it was because she was so careful, meticulous, with her work. All she had to do was follow a certain set of rules.

A polite tone brimming with reverence, ‘Yes Lady Dimitrescu’ or, ‘yes ladies Bela, Cassandra and Daniela’. Never a no, even if warranted, unless you want your eyes level with your toes and cool air meeting your stump of a neck. Always serve with a curtsy, never meet their eyes, never ask questions, keep your head down and clean, clean, clean like your life depends on it because like with everything else, it does.

The bottom line was that (Y/n) knew how to survive in the castle of Dimitrescu. It took tact, forward thinking, and a bit of luck. But today, after a very respectable nine months of service, (Y/n)’s luck had apparently run out. She had royally fucked up.

“Oh, fuck me—!“ (Y/n) hissed, followed by a sharp gasp as her grip slipped because of the dip of the chandelier.

She had no one to blame but herself. She had been assigned to clean the banisters and chandeliers of the foyer and had leaned out just a little too far with her duster. Thus, her scramble for purchase on the confounding light fixture to save her from cracking her skull on the marble floor below.

“H...help!” (Y/n) called, barely above her usual speaking tone. She dared not speak louder for fear of alerting any of the bloodthirsty daughters of her predicament. She could only hope one of her fellow maids was working nearby.

“No, nonono—“ the words left (Y/n)’s mouth faster than her lips could move. One of the metal weldings that held up the chandelier was creaking and becoming dangerously loose as time ticked by.

“Help!” (Y/n) called a little louder, the desperation bleeding into her tone as her fingers dug painfully into the decorative, jewel encrusted rim of the chandelier.

Yet still not a sound besides the creak of old metal giving way. Nine months of service to the Lady of the Castle and this was never how (Y/n) imagined she’d go. It wasn’t uncommon for some maids to take their life by their own hand, but (Y/n) wanted to keep fighting—!

“Ah!” (Y/n) cried sharply. The chandelier’s tether frayed a bit further, causing it to drop a few inches. She was fully panicking now, arms aching and chest heaving as she dangled. She made the mistake of looking at the cold, hard floor below and that only made her heart beat faster. She didn’t want to go out like this!

The chandelier fell another inch, stinging (Y/n)’s fingers. She was gripping so hard she was sure her fingers must have been bleeding. She needed someone, anyone to come and somehow in her panicked state, she thought of her Lady. If her Lady needed something done and done fast, all she had to do was call out her name and she would be there in an instant. Somehow in (Y/n)’s desperate mind, she thought that calling upon the most ruthless of the Dimitrescu Family was her best course of action.

“Cassandra!” (Y/n) yelled, closing her eyes tightly and fighting to maintain her precarious grip.

For a few seconds, there was just the creaking the chandelier and (Y/n) didn’t know whether to be relieved or devastated by the silence. Before she could resign herself to her fate, a faint buzzing could be heard below, growing in intensity until (Y/n) could see the swarm of blowflies collecting below her until they completely formed the middle Dimitrescu daughter. She looked up at (Y/n) with a sneer on her blood stained lips.

“Well, well, well. I must say that this is a first for me.” Cassandra hummed, a fist over her hip as she craned her head up, twisting this way and that to really get a good look. Yes, a maid hanging from a chandelier must have been a novelty to the monstrous woman indeed.

“Just how did you get into this predicament little mouse? Perhaps you are more of a monkey, hmm?” Cassandra giggled sadistically before idly licking the blood from her lips, smearing it around more than anything.

“I leaned too far over the banister while I was dusting.” (Y/n) explained through clenched teeth, trying to maintain her aching grip.

“Mmm, how clumsy of you.” Cassandra laughed again, moving her arms to rest across her chest, she propped her chin up in her gloved hand as she regarded (Y/n) with glee. “You know, I was going to skin you alive. You had called me away from cellar time after all, new arrivals are always the most fun to break. Not to mention that you, some lowly maid, think that I, a noblewoman of the House, am at your beck and call. Yes, I was going to kill you myself but now I’m curious,” Cassandra’s smirk widened to a full blown maniacal grin, “what will give out first? Your arms, or the chandelier?”

“Lady Cassandra, please!” (Y/n) wasn’t sure where she thought pleading would get her, but people will do all kinds of things they wouldn’t normally do under duress. Including begging a known sadistic killer to save them from certain death.

“Oh, she remembers her manners!” Cassandra mocked, “Do me a favor and just fall already. I fear I might be developing a crick in my neck.”

(Y/n) could feel the heat of incoming tears sting her eyes as she dangled several feet above her one woman audience. Well, no one could say she didn’t try. She started mumbling a little prayer for herself that turned into a yelp as the chandelier fell another half a foot, a much larger drop than the occasional two to three inches. The sudden gravity shift yanked (Y/n)’s hands clean off the chandelier, slicing her skin terribly as she tried to grab back on. She missed, she was falling.

(Y/n) couldn’t even scream, she just closed her eyes as tightly as she could and waited to meet the ground... speaking of which, shouldn’t she have hit it already?

(Y/n) peeled open an eye and slowly allowed herself to finally take in the buzzing that was surrounding her. Blowflies. She peered down past the swarm to see Cassandra, half formed with her arms outstretched, ready to receive her. (Y/n) could only stare, mouth slightly agape, as she was settled in Cassandra’s arms, watching the blowflies that had carried her mesh back into Cassandra’s legs.

“Why so surprised?” Cassandra asked with a mock sweetness that made (Y/n) shiver, “I simply couldn’t let you die just yet. No, I think I’d like to play with you just a little while longer.”

Cassandra happened to glance at the bloody hands clutched tightly to the maid’s chest and hummed. Adjusting her strong hold on the paralyzed maiden, she clutched the outermost wrist tightly and pulled it to her bloodied lips for a sample.

“Mm,” Cassandra appraised, passing her tongue over the cuts again, “yes, I think I’ll enjoy taking my time with you.” She cackled before unceremoniously dropping (Y/n) to the floor at a much safer, but still painful height.

“Go patch yourself up, my prey. You’re dismissed.” She said and then, she dispersed into a swarm of blowflies and was gone, her laughter bouncing off of the high ceilings.

(Y/n) sat on the floor dumbstruck, before finally getting up on shaky legs. She made her way to the maid’s quarters and upon seeing that it was empty, she allowed herself to cry as she cleaned and dressed her fingers. Lady Cassandra had saved her, saved her for a worse fate by her own hand no doubt. All she could do was wait.

***

Cassandra was a menace.

After the chandelier incident, (Y/n) found herself assigned to areas of the castle that Cassandra was known to frequent. There was never a minute’s rest when the middle child was free from her mother and sisters and even if Cassandra was occupied, (Y/n) often found herself nipped by the occasional stray blowfly as she did her work. There was no question in her mind where they had come from.

Yes, having caught Lady Cassandra’s eye had created a lot of extra work for the poor girl with extra antagonism. She’d poke and prod and pull, jostling (Y/n) around while she tried to stay on task. She would drag bloodied bodies through the carpeted halls (Y/n) had just cleaned and laugh as the poor maid went to restock her cleaning supplies. Cassandra would even demand (Y/n) drop everything to run her baths when she had grow tired of running around with blood smeared all over her like a toddler left alone with finger paints. She’d smugly present her bloodied face to (Y/n), silently demanding she wipe it clean for her and when she was satisfied, she would lean back in her tub and order (Y/n) to clean the bloodied weapons she’d drop dangerously close to her feet.

Cassandra was insufferable, yet, (Y/n) couldn’t help but think positively because it could have easily been much worse. For as taxing as dealing with Cassandra could be, she had never hurt her, not really anyway. Not like the poor maid who went to clean the armory and left with one less arm than she went in with. The occasional bite of a blowfly stung and the shoves and pinches could be bruising, but at least she still had all her limbs, no broken bones or sickle scars puckering her skin.

(Y/n) sighed to herself as she polished the same battle axe for the third time that week. She was the only maid allowed to clean the armory anymore after Bianca lost her arm. Lady Cassandra had said that only (Y/n) knew how to clean her toys with proper care and could make them twice as shiny and sharp. A few of the other maids would darkly joke with (Y/n) in the serving quarters about the middle Dimitrescu having a crush on her, but (Y/n) would simply dismiss their gossip and continue her work without complaint. Such rumors could be dangerous after all.

As (Y/n) heaved the axe back into its place on the wall, she heard the thrum of quick light feet running across the carpeted hall just outside. She frowned to herself, but kept working. Assuming it was just just another poor girl who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. However the door the the armory clicked open, and the slightly out of breath maid (Y/n) recognized as Moiara peaked in, flushed from all her running no doubt.

“Lady Dimitrescu is ordering all of the maids back to their quarters immediately.” The girl urgently informed.

“Whatever for?” (Y/n) asked, brows furrowed in concern. It was a most unusual order.

“Apparently a pack of Moroaica have escaped the cellar and are currently roaming the castle. The Lady’s daughters are hunting them down, but it could take some time to clear everything up. Lady Dimitrescu doesn’t wish to lose more workers than she can replace.” Moiara explained, albeit the last line came out a touch bitterly.

“I understand, I’ll make my way now. Be safe.”

“Thank you.” Moiara nodded before darting off again.

(Y/n) cautiously made her way to the door and peered down both ends of the hallway. Noting that it was clear, she left the doorway and shut the armory door before quickly walking in the direction of the maid’s quarters. It was quite a walk and (Y/n)’s heart went out to Moiara and the rest of the girls who were still scattered further within the castle’s walls.

The halls were eerily quiet and empty, not unusual, but with the added threat lurking, well, it made it a tad more unsettling. It was laughable really, for (Y/n) to be afraid now. The threat of death loomed over her head constantly and only now she was concerned?

(Y/n) chuckled despite herself as she rounded another bend, hardly checking her surroundings as she crossed the third hallway and then the fourth.

“Oh!” (Y/n) tripped on a raised wrinkle in the rug, her hand automatically grasped the curtain beside her to steady herself. She was lucky it didn’t rip or surely the Lady of the House would have her head, never mind the Moroaica.

As she made to steady herself on her own two feet again, the curtain she had grasped twisted harshly and was ripped from her surprised and slackened grip. (Y/n) felt her blood run cold and her feet turn to lead as the ‘curtain’ reached out for her, revealing rotten, gnarled fingers that snapped (Y/n)’s bicep in a firm squeeze. As it completed its turn, (Y/n) saw scraggly, yellowed teeth lunge for her neck.

She attempted to keep the stray Moroaica at bay. The whole interaction, frightening and life threatening as it was, was a near silent struggle. It was as if (Y/n) had lost her voice completely. All that came from her were stuttering gasps as the creature snarled and snapped at her.

It wrestled her to the floor and clawed at her clothes and skin, drawing the blood that it seemed to desperately crave. (Y/n) struggled and kicked at the creature but it was unrelenting and finally something happened that helped (Y/n) find her voice, she screamed.

The Moroaica clawed at her ribs, tearing fabric, skin and muscle alike. (Y/n)’s fighting grew weaker the more the monster dug at her and her mouth was still parted from her pained screams but they were now near silent croaks as the pain and blood loss threatened her consciousness. Seemingly noticing her weakened state, the Moroaica neared its yellowing teeth to her exposed flesh and—

“Oo, look Bela! I found another one~!”

(Y/n) reflexively closed her eyes and felt something hot and wet splatter across her face. She heard a squelching noise and felt dead weight fall against her body as Daniela’s giggles filled the hall.

“You shouldn’t be having so much fun.” Bela grumbled at her sister. “I knew mother should have sent you to your room. It would have been a more fitting punishment.”

“Okay, so maybe I forgot to lock the cellar, but you can’t say you aren’t having a good time as well.” Daniela said, grinning when Bela rolled her eyes, a small shadow of a smile forming on the eldest sister’s lips.

“Aw, look,” Daniela grunted, kicking at the dead Moroaica until its corpse rolled off of (Y/n), “well, let’s not let her go to waste. Her blood still smells good.”

“Wait, Daniela,” Bela said, holding her younger sister’s shoulder as she peered down at the bloodied maid her breaths coming raggedly as she fought to open her eyes. Bela sniffed and winced, shooting her sister a look.

“Daniela, take a closer look.”

“Ugh, fine,” the youngest groaned and leaned forward, “I don’t see why...” Daniela paused, her back went rigid. She just stared at (Y/n) for a few moments before finally turning to her sister, lips pursed.

“Cass is literally going to kill me.”

“You think?” Bela said, almost with complete disinterest.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Help me! If she dies, I die!” Daniela hissed, couching beside (Y/n) to assess the damage.

“I don’t know, I think I would kind of like to see Cassandra hunt you for sport.” Bela smirked.

“Bela!”

“Alright, alright.” Bela sighed, couching at (Y/n)’s other side.

The last thing the maid could make out before succumbing to unconsciousness was a dull, muffled buzzing and a feeling of weightlessness.

***

When (Y/n) awoke, she immediately noted that her throat was drier than a desert wind; her stomach and ribs also burned and itched like nothing she had ever experienced. She gingerly touched her stomach and found it covered in bandages. Her head ached so she pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes for a few moments.

With great effort she hoisted herself into a sitting position and had to do a double take of her surroundings. This was not the maid’s quarters and given the amount of time she had been spending in here lately, she was quick to realize she was in Lady Cassandra’s room, in her bed. Before (Y/n) could really let it all sink in, the door was yanked open.

Cassandra stalked in, shutting the door tightly behind her before standing over (Y/n) with a fire blazing in her golden eyes. A blowfly (Y/n) had initially failed to notice crawled down the bedpost before meshing back into Cassandra’s body. Apparently she had been being watched.

“Why didn’t you call for me?” Cassandra gritted out, gripping the bedpost so hard (Y/n) was afraid it would splinter.

“Lady Cassandra?” (Y/n) questioned, still feeling numb and achy and not at all ready for such aggressive energy.

“Glad to know you still remember.”Cassandra said mockingly before her voice became low and serious again, “You were in trouble, why didn’t you call for me?”

“I don’t...” (Y/n) winced and held her head, it felt like she was on a boat in rocky waters.

Cassandra took notice and with surprising gentleness, lowered (Y/n) to rest fully against the bed once more. She even offered (Y/n) water and helped her drink. Then she checked her temperature, the cool touch of her skin felt wonderful against (Y/n)’s aching head.

“What happened?” (Y/n) murmured, whining when Cassandra went to remove her hand. A bit hesitantly, she put it back. A small, prideful smile curved at her lips when (Y/n) relaxed against her touch.

“Don’t you remember?” Cassandra scoffed, “I swear, you humans are so unbelievably fragile. You were attacked by a Moroaica that strayed from its pack. Bela and the idiot who caused the whole mess found you. I did some sucking up to mother and we fixed you up with a little herbal remedy,” Cassandra frowned her voice becoming a tad accusatory, “Yet you still slept for a long time.”

“I’m sorry to have been an inconvenience Lady Cassandra.” (Y/n) spoke up after trying to absorb all that Cassandra had told her. Surely it would have taken more than a, ‘little herbal remedy’ to fix what had happened to her.

(Y/n) scrunched her eyes shut when Cassandra suddenly growled and pinched the maid’s nose.

“I’m glad you realize it. Do you know how infuriating it is to watch another maid handle my weaponry all wrong? To not make my room the way that I like it? Ugh, I’d have killed them all if mother let me.” She let go of (Y/n)’s nose, swiping the side of her index finger playfully over the bridge a couple times before re-settling her hand over (Y/n)’s cheek.

“That’s why, when you’re all better, you are going to have to train one of those imbeciles how to do it right.”

“I can do it myself, Lady Cassandra. I can get back to work tomorrow I’m sure of it.” (Y/n) nearly pleaded. She was sure any girl she trained would end up killed anyway. There were too many little things that could set Cassandra off to count.

“There is no more cleaning for you. You’re retired.”

“Retired?” (Y/n) couldn’t help but gawk up at Cassandra. The notion was wholly unbelievable. No one retired from serving the Dimitrescus’ unless you counted dying as a form of retirement.

“Yes.” Cassandra said with near vicious finality.

“Lady Cassandra, my parents count on the lei I send them from my job here, please reconsider. There is no work for me back at the village and I’d just be another mouth my family cannot afford to feed.” (Y/n) beseeched, her body quaked with fever.

“Calm yourself.” Cassandra spoke as if attempting to be soft, but was still very on edge. “Your family will still receive money. You aren’t going back to the village.”

“I’m not?” (Y/n)’s brows drew together with further confusion, “but, then what will be my purpose if I’m not to work?”

“Does it really matter?” Cassandra flustered, a buzzing sound filled the space between them, “Your family is getting money and you don’t have to do anything for it, be grateful!” Cassandra pinched (Y/n)’s cheek a bit harshly before standing and stalking away. The buzzing following her as she tore the door open once more.

“I’ll be back with lunch.” The Dimitrescu grumbled before closing the door behind her once more.

“What is going on?” (Y/n) whispered to herself in disbelief before resting her head fully back against the pillow. She caught movement in the corner of her eye and turned her head just in time to watch a blowfly crawl back into the dark canopy of the bed.

***

(Y/n) wasn’t sure what to do with herself. Suddenly, she had all this free time on her hands and would for a long time apparently. It was nice when she was still recovering, but now that she had healed, she felt antsy.

Cassandra had handpicked a trembling maid for (Y/n) to train, but even those sessions did not last long as the poor girl, Anca was her name, was still expected to complete other chores. Something that did help to pass the time however was Cassandra herself, strangely enough. She was always the one to bring (Y/n) meals unless she was busy with some task her mother had given her, also giving (Y/n) little gifts and talking to her throughout each day. Sometimes the ‘gifts’ were gruesome and the talks seemed more like interrogations, but the effort in which Cassandra put into every interaction left (Y/n) intrigued with, and appreciative of the middle child.

Now wasn’t one of those times unfortunately, and (Y/n) found herself pacing the floor of her room, yes, one of her very own. Given to her by Cassandra right across the hall from her own. Now that she was well enough to do more on her own, she had been moved there about three weeks ago to have her own space. Another thing that was unheard of coming from the middle Dimitrescu. (Y/n) paused by the window to look out upon the snowy ground below.

“Miss (Y/n)?” A knock on the door, “May I speak with you?”

“Anca,” (Y/n) paused her paces, that was strange. There had been no plans for a lesson tonight. Nevertheless, (Y/n) was happy for the company. Ever since Cassandra had removed her from service, the other maids had avoided (Y/n) like a plague “please come in.”

The nervous little maid came in, closing the door tightly behind her, shoulders stiff as she slowly approached and took a seat in the chair (Y/n) offered to her.

“Are you alright? You’re shaking.” (Y/n) frowned, reaching out to comfort her only to watch Anca shrink away from her hand.

“Lady Cassandra,” she spoke, looking wildly around the room, “she will kill me I’m sure of it. What game are you playing?”

“Game? I’m playing no game.” (Y/n) tried to assure. “Has she said anything to you? I promise I’m covering every base I can—”

“You aren’t doing enough!” She screeched, startling the other. “I’ve seen the way she treats you. The privileges you’ve gained. This is all a set up! You were in my shoes not long ago, have you really lost your humanity so quickly?”

“Anca, please, calm yourself. I’m not working against you, I swear.” (Y/n) tried to explain. “Tell me what’s wrong, let me help you. How can I help you?”

“How?” Anca mumbled, rubbing at her dark rimmed eyes. “It’s all because of you that I’m in this mess to begin with!”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Anca.”

“No, I really don’t think you are.” Anca sniffed, rising from her chair. “But maybe there is something you can do to help me. I’m already dead, but I want to hurt Lady Cassandra before I go and I think I can do just that,” she pulled a knife from her apron, “if I take you down with me!”

“Anca!” (Y/n) screamed, stumbling away just before the knife could strike her.

“Just hold still! I’ll do it fast, please!” Anca cried as she swiped at her again. “Let me just have this one thing! This one last fuck you to this hell hole!”

“Stop! You’re making a mistake!” (Y/n) tried again, wrestling with Anca for the knife.

The scuffle went on for minutes before (Y/n) was thrown to the back wall, the knife missed her head just barely and sunk into the wood behind her. As Anca struggled to hold her in place and wedge the knife free, (Y/n) called out for her without even realizing it until the blood drained from Anca’s face.

“Cassandra!”

“No, shut up! Shut up you bitch!” Anca squealed, rocking the knife more vigorously.

“Cass—“ (Y/n) tried to call out again, this time fully aware of what she was doing, only to be head-butted by Anca in a desperate attempt to quiet her while she continued to work at the knife.

It was too late for that however, as proven by angry buzzing sounds roaring through the hallway and sliding under the door before forming right at Anca’s back, a cold hand joined Anca’s over the knife and grasped her so hard, (Y/n) could hear the maid’s fingers crack.

“You want this knife, do you?” Cassandra sneered, “Please, allow me.”

Cassandra tugged the knife from the wall like it had been warm butter, Anca’s hand still clenched in her own. She used her other arm to pull Anca off of (Y/n) with a rough tug and hardly took more than a few steps away before plunging the knife deep into the girl’s chest.

“There you go. You’re welcome you miserable little wretch.” Cassandra raked the knife downward, slicing Anca’s flesh all the way down to the hip as the poor girl screamed. “That will teach you to touch what doesn’t belong to you!”

(Y/n) could only watch, wide-eyed and trembling as Cassandra dissolved into her swarm, allowing Anca to fall to the floor before hundreds of little mouths began working at her flesh until the screaming ceased and all that was discernible was a frozen expression of agony on Anca’s face.

The blowflies came back together after a few more moments of feeding and Cassandra reformed, crouched beside (Y/n). (Y/n) didn’t even realize she had sunk to the floor during the gruesome attack.

Cassandra raised a blood covered hand to (Y/n)’s cheek, turning the face in her grasp, she assessed the damage, buzzing all the while. Somehow the sound felt, calming, reassuring. (Y/n) didn’t even flinch away from her touches and instead found herself leaning into them.

“Just look at what that thing did to you,” Cassandra hissed as she watched the blood leak from (Y/n)’s nose, “I should have killed her even slower.”

(Y/n) sniffled, leaning her head on Cassandra’s shoulder, “Thank you for coming.”

“I’ll always come to you if you call for me,” Cassandra sighed and pulled (Y/n) into her lap. She smelled almost overwhelmingly of blood, but (Y/n) couldn’t bring herself to care. “No one has ever called for me like you have before. No one that wasn’t my mother or sisters anyway,” Cassandra bit her lip, “I... at first, I was enraged that you called for me that first time, but the more I thought about it... Ugh! You made me feel all gross and buzzy inside. I’m just so used to humans fearing me, associating me with death. Never have I been called by one expecting to be saved from it.”

“Is that why you helped me after that Moroaica had attacked me?” (Y/n) asked, her voice still muffled by Cassandra’s shoulder. She didn’t really want to catch sight of Anca’s remains again while in the arms of her killer.

“Yes. I’m still mad at you for that.” Cassandra growled, “Why didn’t you call for me that time? I thought we had an understanding.”

“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) chuckled despite everything, “But I think understandings are usually met through open communication. I’m sorry I didn’t interpret your bug bites and general antagonisms as anything but blatant harassment.”

“Excuse me?” Cassandra snarled, reminding (Y/n) just how frightening she could be.

“I, I’m sorry Lady Cassandra. I forget myself.” (Y/n) stammered before gasping as Cassandra effortlessly rose to her feet with (Y/n) still in her arms.

“You must be awfully tired to be so mouthy. I can’t imagine you’ll want to sleep with a corpse on your rug so you’ll just have to sleep in my room until the maids clean this mess up. I suppose I’ll need to fix your nose too. So fragile, my prey is.” Cassandra sighed, clearly feeling inconvenienced by the whole situation. Though she carefully maneuvered out of the doorway so (Y/n) wouldn’t bump against it as they made the short trip across the hall to her room.

“You treat me quite well for being prey.” (Y/n) tested with caution. “You protect me, but why? Is it all so you can end me yourself at your own leisure?”

“Oh wow Cass, you really know how to make a maiden feel special.”

“I knew she was full of it, Bela! I bet they haven’t so much as kissed yet!”

(Y/n) felt Cassandra’s grip on her tighten as the mocking voices of her sisters closed in on them before Cassandra could slink into her room.

“Shut the hell up and mind your own business!” Cassandra fumed, crossing the threshold into her room before kicking the door shut, making a thunderous slam reverberate off of the castle walls.

Bela and Daniela merely giggled, seeping through the cracks of the doors before reforming over their sister’s bed, nearly falling on top of each other as Cassandra sped past them to take (Y/n) into her en-suite bathroom.

She placed (Y/n) on top on the counter and tweaked her nose without warning, making (Y/n) yelp in pain.

“Quiet prey, I needed to set your nose back into place is all,” Cassandra wrinkled her nose as more blood oozed from the abused cartilage, “damn, why must you smell so enticing.”

(Y/n) couldn’t find any words, both because her nose stung like hell and she was still stuck on what Daniela and Bela were taunting Cassandra about, so she just managed a small shrug.

Cassandra hardly seemed to mind her lack of verbal response. She was too busy grinding her teeth as her sisters continued to whisper and laugh in the bedroom. Cassandra quickly wiped and stuffed (Y/n)’s nose, nearly hissing at her to remain still before going back to deal with her unruly siblings, licking the stray blood from her fingers as she went.

(Y/n) tried to give her some privacy, she really did, but it was hard not to listen in when they were speaking so loudly, and about herself no less.

“You two get out of my room, now!” Cassandra commanded.

“Why? It’s not like anything unseemly is going to be happening in here. Right, Daniela?” Bela giggled while Daniela downright cackled with glee.

“Get. Out. Now!” Cassandra bellowed.

“Oh no Cassie,” Daniela waggled a finger, snatching it back before Cassandra could bite it, “you spend weeks pretending to have gone all the way with dear (Y/n) over there like some casanova and now we find out she doesn’t even know you like her?”

“What’s the matter Cassandra? It isn’t like you to be so chaste.” Bela said with a smirk.

“She must really like this one to be taking her time like this.” Daniela hypothesized with a bloodstained grin.

“Leave you idiots!” Cassandra nearly screamed, “She can probably hear everything you’re spewing! I’ll throw you out in the cold, don’t think I won’t!”

“Geez Cass, no need to be so hostile,” Bela shivered at the thought.

“Yeah, you take your well deserved teasings or we’ll tell mother you are not playing fair.” Daniela added with a pout.

Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose shutting her eyes tightly before releasing her nose with a growl and snapping her gaze back to her sisters.

“What do you want?” She grumbled.

“Oo! I want the best bits of your next hunt!” Daniela immediately proclaimed.

“I want to watch you flounder about whilst you try to explain your affections to the maiden.” Bela had said after a moment of consideration.

“Oh! That sounds fun. I retract my previous statement. I want what Bela’s having.” Daniela wiggled.

“I hate you both.” Cassandra huffed before stalking back to the bathroom, her giggling sister’s on her heels. (Y/n) quickly shot her gaze down at her swinging feet, suddenly more interested in the patterns of the floor below.

It didn’t take long for Cassandra to grab (Y/n)’s jaw and pull her face upward to meet her golden eyes.

“Listen prey,” Cassandra swallowed and blinked, her eyes darting all around (Y/n)’s face, “I...”

“Come on, Cassandra. It’s not that difficult.” Bela cooed, egging her sister on.

“I could tell her for you. That would be fun.” Daniela suggested, shrinking back just a bit at the look Cassandra shot her over her shoulder.

“Prey, (Y/n), I... Why is this so hard!” She stomped her foot and her nails bit into (Y/n)’s skin a bit too harshly, “I like you a lot and that’s why I’ve been helping you. I want you to like me too. Do you? Be honest.” She asked with a bit of hostility.

Did (Y/n) like Cassandra? Either way, it seemed like a death sentence to say no. Cassandra seemed to notice (Y/n)’s trepidation and quickly added,

“You don’t have to be scared. I won’t hurt you, just tell me the truth. If the answer is not to my liking then I guess I’ll simply have to try harder.” She said as if the words physically hurt her to say.

(Y/n) thought back on all of her interactions with Cassandra in a new light. Actually being caught as she fell, the schoolyard boy with a crush behavior (which honestly didn’t give the her any points but did make sense for how the murderous woman might try to show affection), most promising was how she brought (Y/n) back to health and continued to send money to her struggling family despite not working. Then of course she had saved her from Anca’s knife, wasting no time in cutting her down and checking (Y/n) over with care.

(Y/n) gave Cassandra a small smile that steadily grew a bit wider as golden eyes traced the movement and a hopeful sounding buzz began warbling in the back of her throat. Even the sisters standing behind her buzzed in unison, seemingly feeling their sister’s hope and growing excitement.

“Lady Cassandra, I like you too—Eep!”

Cassandra’s face dove into (Y/n)’s neck as her strong arms wrapped around (Y/n) to hold her still as she nuzzled and buzzed to her heart’s content. Bela and Daniela dissolved into their swarms and were haphazardly flying around them in celebration.

Cassandra gave (Y/n)’s neck a playful nip, much softer than a blowfly, before standing back to her full height and throwing (Y/n) over her shoulder.

“Lady Cassandra?” (Y/n) tried, wiggling a bit in the sudden new hold.

“Shhh, I’ve been waiting for this moment for weeks.” Cassandra said, craning her neck to look up at her sisters still buzzing above them, “Buzz off.” She told them. The clouds of flies let out a bout of disembodied laughter before slipping back under the door, feeling that they had given their sister enough grief for one night.

Once Cassandra was sure they were gone, she tossed (Y/n) on to the bed and climbed in as well, hovering over the stuttering maiden.

“Wuh- wait, Cassandra, I know we established we like each other but—“ the former maid flustered as Cassandra rested her full weight over (Y/n)’s body and moaned pleasantly in her ear.

“Mm, you’re so warm. I could just lay here forever.” She sighed, snaking her hands underneath (Y/n)’s back.

“Thank... you?” (Y/n) awkwardly replied. For as tall and strong as Cassandra was, she was surprisingly light. (Y/n) figured the fact that she was made up of flies had something to do with that.

Cassandra hummed some more, nuzzling her nose in the crook of (Y/n)’s neck and breathing so deeply that (Y/n) couldn’t help but giggle. There was a bit of concern bleeding in the back of her mind, but the smiling lips on her collarbone were quick to distract her.

“I quite like it when you make that sound, it’s sweet. But right now I’m quite tired, and I would like for you to be quiet now. I’m listening to your blood move.”

Well, that was a slightly terrifying admission. (Y/n) must’ve been going mad because she reacted no differently than if she had said she was listening to her heartbeat.

“Goodnight then.” (Y/n) murmured, slowly patting Cassandra’s hair, earning a low continuous buzzing that persisted until they had fallen asleep together.

#re8 oneshots #resident evil oneshots #resident evil village oneshots #cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x reader

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hermannsthumb · 4 years ago

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I have a fun prompt I've been thinking about I hope you have time for one day! When Newt and Hermann meet actually things go really really well and they even get together. It's just they bicker so much and have huge science-based arguments that everyone assumed they must have hated each other on sight.

sure thing! i had fun with this one

----

"So," Newt says. "I was talking to Tendo today."

Across the mess table, Hermann hums in feigned interest. Newt knows it's feigned 'cause Hermann doesn't stop either thing he's doing: using his left hand to wind noodles around a fork, and using his right hand to scribble away a series of lengthy equations on the back of a paper napkin. His full attention has been hopping between both for about ten minutes now—no room for Newt to slip in there. He's testing his limits enough as it. Half of the last equation ended up scratched into the tabletop, and the last time he lifted his fork to his mouth, it was empty. And then he swallowed anyway. Newt kinda loves the guy.

"Yeah," Newt says, deciding to continue like Hermann responded the way he was actually supposed to respond, which would've been something along the lines of what an utterly fascinating story, Newton, do tell me more. I love hearing you talk, Newton. How marvelously smart you are, Newton, and how melodic and breathtaking your voice is. Now watch me bite down on an empty fork again. "Kinda funny. He was asking how we met."

Hermann finally looks up at Newt suspiciously over the rims of his glasses, which are slipping slowly down his nose. He stills them with the tip of his index finger before they land in his dinner. "Why?"

"I don't know, man," Newt says. "He just was. It was like, small talk, you wouldn't get it. He dropped by the lab when you were out this morning to let me know that there was extra space if we wanted it. Like, lab space." Hermann resumes scratching an equation into the table absently. Newt rolls his eyes. "As in, we could have separate labs if we wanted now."

Hermann knits his eyebrows together. "Separate laboratories?"

When Newt and Hermann first started at the Hong Kong Shatterdome, the k-scientist team was pre-existing and significantly bigger, and anyone who joined on later—like, you know, them—basically got shoved in wherever they fit. For Newt and Hermann, that happened to be Laboratory Space D, Basement Level 1 (the only basement level), along with a former marine biologist who was killed on a research excursion a month later when a kaiju made unexpected landfall, like, right on top of their chosen shelter. Bad luck. Anyway, Newt's known about the existence of other Hong Kong Shatterdome lab spaces in the vague and absent sort of way that you would an urban legend, but (similarly so) he never thought he and Hermann would actually ever lay eyes on one. And then Tendo stopped by to dangle it in front of Newt on a stick.

"The other labs were being used as storage for ages after everyone else—" Newt searches for a word tasteful enough to encapsulate got stomped by a kaiju and wised up and decided to live out what are probably our last few days before the world ends with their families instead of alone in a military bunker. "—left. Anyway, Tendo told me they've been going through shit like crazy this month, I think to see if they can salvage any old tech, and that the other labs are basically totally emptied out now. We just have to ask and they're ours."

Hermann sets down both his pen and fork, twisting his mouth contemplatively. He finally loses the battle against gravity with his glasses, and they miss his plate by an inch, swinging back on their chain and bouncing harmlessly against his chest instead. Newt briefly wonders if getting a chain for his own glasses would save them from their frequent fatal falls into kaiju organ cavities and buckets of non-neutralized kaiju blood, but decides not even the money he'd save on replacement pairs would make a fashion faux pas like that worth it. "You know I don't much fancy the basement," Hermann says.

"Your joints," Newt agrees. The damp of the basement sets Hermann's joint pain off frequently, something Hermann talks about just as frequently. Newt's not really a fan of the basement either, though for different reasons—he would kill to get some windows and natural, non-fluorescent light in there. Sun lamps can only do so much. He's pretty sure he'd fucking glow if he stepped outside right now. Also, it's cold down here.

"And it might be nice to be closer to LOCCENT, in case of an emergency," Hermann continues. "And closer to—oh, hang on. What has this got to do with us?"

"Huh?"

"How we met," Hermann says. "You said, that Tendo asked—"

"Oh," Newt says. It's his turn to play coy. He stirs his chopsticks through his own dinner, accidentally flicking a piece of tofu to the table. It lands on top of Hermann's etched equations. Hermann scowls, because that's how their routine goes: Newt gets Hermann's stuff dirty, and Hermann gets mad. "Well. It was just that Tendo was like you can finally be out of each other's hair, how the hell did you guys get stuck together anyway when you obviously can't stand each other, that kind of stuff."

"Ah," Hermann says.

"And I said that it was because we knew each other before," Newt says, "and that we transferred here together. And that's when he asked."

"And what did you say?" Hermann says.

"That we used to correspond professionally," Newt says, "and met at a conference way back in 2017." He adds, with a grin, "Also professionally."

This was technically true. Newt and Hermann did write to each other, professionally, and they did meet at a conference, professionally, but what went down after a long and public shouting match in the events hall of a very nice hotel—in Hermann's room, five floors up in that very nice hotel—was not very professional. The events of the week that followed—spent, intermittently, between Hermann's hotel room, several coffee shops, a bench under a tree in Newt's favorite park, a rotation sushi restaurant, brushing knees shyly on the tram, and, finally, clasping hands on the staircase of Newt's apartment and gazing deeply into each other's eyes—weren't very professional, either, but Newt likes to think that they were very romantic. Rom-com level shit. Newt revealed none of this to Tendo, who referred to the 2017 conference as that Infamous Day for the rest of their conversation. "Well, it was professional," Hermann sniffs.

But he reaches across the table, and, very timidly, crosses his pinkie over top of Newt's. It's the most blatant form of PDA Hermann ever willingly engages Newt in. Newt thinks if he ever tried to touch two fingers at once in anywhere but the lab, or God forbid, hold his whole hand, Hermann's ears might start emitting steam like something out of a cartoon. "It might be nice," he says again.

Laboratory Space D, Basement Level 1, is unique—Newt knows—in that Newt and Hermann's quarters are connected to it directly. None of the other labs have that luxury (and Newt has a feeling it's because Lab Space D wasn't actually intended as a lab space). He remembers being told that when they were shoved into it. Yeah, you have the darkest and tiniest lab space on base, but your rooms are right there! When Newt wants to go to Hermann's room, or if he's in Hermann's room and needs a sweatshirt or something from his own, he just has to step the three feet between their two doors. Moving labs could throw a wrench in that—they might be asked to move quarters, too, and might be shuttled to opposite sides of the Shatterdome, and though they could just bite the bullet and request couple's quarters already, it's nice to have their own spaces when they need it. That would never work. And, well, besides—the lab, their lab, feels like home to them at this point. Newt shrugs.

"On the other hand," Hermann says, and he taps Newt's pinkie lightly, "I quite like how things are. I can live with the damp, really."

"We can get a dehumidifier," Newt offers.

Hermann nods, and he gives Newt the barest hint of a smile.

Their monthly delivery of lab supplies—whatever they can afford with their shoestring budget, which, these days, mostly means chalk, rubber gloves, and nice instant ramen—comes three weeks later. Newt wouldn't exactly call the Shatterdome delivery guy a friend, seeing as he has yet to divulge his name to Newt (and also Newt's pretty sure he has a thing for Hermann, since he always seems to wait until Hermann is in the lab to stroll by with his package trolley and always calls him Dr. Gottlieb with big stupid heart eyes, oh, Dr. Gottlieb, that new sweater looks soooo nice on you!, so anyway, that makes him Newt's rival by default), but he, at least, recognizes and acknowledges Newt at this point. That's more than Newt can say for most people on the base. After his usual greeting to the two of them (hey, Newt, oh, hellllooo, Dr. Gottlieb, did you do something new with your hair?), he starts to unload their packages, also like usual.

"I was surprised to see that you guys are still down here," he tells Newt, not like usual. "Tendo mentioned something about you getting your own labs."

"He did?" Newt says, meaning to frown, but grinning instead. It's kind of fun to be the subject of gossip. He pulls off his gloves and tosses them in the trash to help with their supplies—the dehumidifier he requested should be in there, and it's fancy and definitely on the bigger side.

"Yeah," their delivery guy continues. He hands Newt a fuckin' massive brick of a package. Hermann's stupid chalk. The amount that Hermann tears through in a month really is astounding: Newt has a private theory that Hermann is an undercover space alien from a planet where chalk constitutes all of the primary food groups, and he secretly sneaks out here and eats it in the dead of night when Newt is asleep. "Anyway, sorry I'm late," the delivery guy says, as Newt imagines Hermann crunching on a piece of chalk like a carrot stick, "I went to all the other labs first."

"No worries, dude," Newt says. "Sorry for the confusion."

He lugs the package over to Hermann's desk, and drops it down on the only spot not over-cluttered with papers and books. Hermann complains about Newt's messiness a lot for a guy who is just as bad, if not worse. "Need any now?" Newt asks Hermann.

Hermann, scribbling away at his chalkboard, grunts. Newt decides that's a no.

"Hard at work, Dr. Gottlieb?" the delivery guy says, practically fluttering his eyelashes.

Another grunt. Newt snorts.

"I thought you guys would've moved right away," the delivery guy (obviously disappointed at Hermann's lack of attention) tells Newt. "Tendo mentioned you've been stuck together for a while, ever since some sort of dramatic confrontation at a conference ten years ago." he adds eagerly, "Did you really get thrown out? I don't know how you haven't killed each other yet."

"It's taken a lot of hard work," Newt says. Yeah, the whole being-ejected-from-the-conference-and-barred-from-all-future-ones-forever thing is technically true too, but everyone there was too stuffy and serious for Newt's fun vibes anyway, so he thinks it's their loss. The most important part of the scientific breakthrough process, Newt frequently thinks, was having someone there to challenge you and push back at you. Sometimes loudly. And in public. In the conference hall of a very expensive hotel, in front of all of your scientific peers, some hotel security guards, and a poor graduate student who made the mistake of asking you and your penpal-colleague for your joint opinion on something and got caught in the crosshairs. Besides—out of everyone at that stupid conference, Newt and Hermann were the only ones snapped up by the PPDC, so it's doubly their loss. "And, yeah, we got thrown out. Me and Hermann fight a lot, but we always make up eventually. It's no big deal. It's, like, our thing."

"Make up?"

Newt waggles his eyebrows and doesn't elaborate. The making up part is the best part of arguing with Hermann, honestly, but he's not about to go giving private details about stuff like that to his rival.

By the time Hermann finally descends his ladder, three hours have passed, and Newt is frowning over an email he's just gotten from Shatterdome HR. Hermann will probably see it in a second when he checks his own email—it was sent to both of them, after all—but Newt waves him over to his desk anyway. "Look," he says.

He draws out the spare chair he keeps by his desk (for Hermann), and Hermann drops into it gratefully, propping his cane up against the arm. Then Hermann pushes his glasses up onto his nose and scans the email with a frown of his own. Newt reads it aloud for him anyway. "'Subject: Quarters Reassignment,'" he says. "Dear Drs. Geiszler and Gottlieb: It has recently come to our attention that you will be transferring to Laboratories A&B. Should you wish to transfer quarters as well, you will find the necessary paperwork..."

"By Jove," Hermann groans, and pulls his glasses off again, smudging a bit of chalk on his cheek, "can't they just leave us alone?"

Newt laughs. "I'll tell them we're not interested. Wait, listen to this bit at the end: Congratulations—this must be a relief! Guess they were getting your complaint forms after all, Hermann." Both Newt and Hermann had long-since assumed that any and all official complaint forms stamped with a k-sci lab return address are filed right into the garbage. It's never deterred Hermann from sending them in, though.

"Hmph," Hermann says.

Newt carefully rolls his shirtcuff back down to his wrist and uses it to rub off Hermann's chalk smudge. When it's gone, or at least, mostly gone, he brushes his fingers back through Hermann's short hair. Hermann's eyelids flutter shut, and as he leans into Newt's touch, his creased forehead smooths just a little. "Mm. You're lovely," he murmurs. "We really ought to tell them we're married. It's gone on long enough."

"I guess," Newt says. "But it's kind of funny, isn't it?"

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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bunnibons · 3 years ago

Text

Alan, in all his wisdom, had decided to burn out his engines and splash down directly in the middle of the North Atlantic Ocean. Nice move, Alan. Shit, the ocean came into view, shit shit shit shit! “Gordon…Can I get an ETA? Please?” He tried Thunderbird Three’s controls again, but nothing, the ship was entirely dead. And turns out, so was the radio. Oh no, and there it was, the sea itself. Oh, this is gonna hurt, looking back, Alan wonders why that of all things was his last thought before he hit the water.

He woke up again to pain and blaring alarms, he knew he couldn’t have been out for more than max two minutes. Anything longer than that and he probably would’ve had some serious brain damage. Thunderbird Three was at an awkward tilt at that point, but it was enough of a downwards tilt that Alan could feasibly slide down to the end of the cockpit and try and reset TB3’s system.

He tried to stand but saw something red drip through his vision. Oh joy, a head wound! Caused by glass! “Great, no that's good,” okay, comms back online first, he thought to himself, sliding down, he felt so weak, he felt pathetic. He flicked a few switches and pulled out the lever, then he twisted and “ALAN?! ALAN do you copy!?” Alan crawled back up, keeping himself awake, “Copy, this is Thunderbird Three,” Alan leaned into his completely fried control panel.

“Alan! Thunderbird Three what's your status?” Oh, Alan realized it’s Gordon, “Losing a lot of blood, and Brains is going to have fun with Three.” He held in a cough, “Losing how much blood exactly?” Oh, that's Virgil, “A lott,” Alan didn’t notice how he slurred his words, but Gordon and Virgil definitely did. “Okay, Alan, no matter what, do not close your eyes, Gordon is almost there,” Alan hardly heard Virgil, but nodded anyway.

He was trying to keep his eyes open, he really was, but sleep sounded so nice. NO! No, he couldn’t fall asleep. If he fell asleep now, he would probably never wake up. “Alan, we’re here,” Alan's head shot up, hearing Gordon’s voice felt like a miracle (it honestly probably was), “Copy that Gordon, but I think we may have another issue,” He tried to get up, but failed, “I can’t movve,” once again, Alan slurred his words.

Not good. Gordon sped up, now going as fast as his engines would let him, He couldn’t believe he’d let Alan go on this mission alone. Alan was his little brother and Gordon had failed him. Now, Alan was hurt. Gordon's little brother was hurt and alone and the only thing he could do about it was wait. What kind of absolute rubbish was that? He had a course set and his engines on full blast and yet he still couldn’t be fast enough.

“Alan, talk to me, what's going on, just in life?” Gordon asked, in hopes of keeping his brother awake. Virgil was on the other line talking with Brains, John, and an Informant from the organization that Alan had just saved (presumably an engineer of some sorts), talking about who knows what. If Gordon's memory serves, his name was Tesla.

That didn’t really matter right now, all that mattered was Alan. All that mattered was that his little brother was safe. And Alan would only be safe once Gordon got him to Virgil. “Uhhh well…” Alan started, his voice hardly registering over the comms. “Physics is kinda sucking right now, it’s all mathy and annoying, I liked it more when it was mainly logic, maths is worse, we’re doing all sorts of trigonometry, y’know, triangles and stuff, and it's super annoying and complex. English has never been a thing I’m good at and we’re doing latin ‘n shit now days so I’m trying really hard not to fail that right now…”

Alan went on, and every time he paused, Gordon had a mini heart attack. One extra long pause scared him, genuinely, “Alan, are you still there?” Another pause, “Alan…?” Thunderbird Three came into view, praise whatever god was out there. “Alan, Alan I’m here!” Gordon said, “Alan, I’m going to doc, then I’m coming to get you,” still no reply.

Gordon proceeded to dock Thunderbird Four to Thunderbird Three through the secondary airlock. There we go…THERE WE GO! Gordon opened the airlock via security code, then slid down to the cockpit. Gordon tried to put in the security code for the door, said door, was fucking jammed.

Gordon slammed his entire body weight into the door. Once, twice, click. He got his hand between the door and the wall and pushed against the door with all his weight, even shoving it open with his legs, he rolled down the cockpit to Alan, still awake, “Hey Alan, buddy, lets go, its cold in here,” Gordon slipped Alan onto his arm, taking his younger brothers weight.

“It is colld,” Alan mumbled, “hey, eyes open Alan c’mon,” Gordon was almost begging his brother at that point. Just to keep his eyes open a little longer. Thunderbird Four had medical supplies, but it wasn’t meant for head wounds. “Alan please don’t die on me,” Gordon whispered, partly to himself, partly to fait. “Ohhhh c’mmon Gordy! I feel fffine!” Alan tried waved him off, but Gordon basically had a death grip on the younger boy.

“We want to be warm right?” Gordon smiled, trying his best to make it not seemed forced. “So where’re we goooiing?” Alan slurred, “Just Thunderbird Four, in house heating and all!” Gordon was still trying to smile. But it was getting pretty hard to do, the two managed to get back down to Thunderbird Four. Immediately Gordon slid Alan onto the passenger seat of Thunderbird Four, and slipped a thermo-blanket around his younger brother.

“Just stay there okay,” Gordon smiled, still forced, wrapping one of the bandages Thunderbird Four had on board as a temporary solution. To say Gordon ‘rushed’ to the surface would be one hell of an understatement. “Hey, you awake Alan?” Gordon asked, still smiling-Well, trying to smile anyways. “Mhm, ‘m awake,” Alan sure as hell didn’t sound like it, “Stay awake baby brother, stay awake,” he hardly whispered the two surfaced, “Thunderbird Two, get us up there, now,” Gordon glanced back to Alan “TB3?” Gordon whispered, terrified of what he would do with himself if Alan didn’t answer.

“Copy,” Alan muttered, Thunderbird Four suddenly lurched upwards. “LORD ALMIGHTY VIRGIL! A little warning?” Gordon snapped, immediately looking back to check on Alan, who gave his older brother a shaky thumbs up. Virgil immediately helped Alan into Thunderbird Two’s mini-medical bay, and flew straight to Tracy Island. “ETA seven minutes, he’ll be okay.” The resident medic tried his best to soothe Gordon’s anxiety. It didn’t work too well, but he tried to convince himself that it would be fine and Alan would be okay.

“What’s up with those space guys anyways?” Gordon tried to distract himself with the question, “some contractor colony thing, with a disturbing amount of weapons at their disposal, why?” Virgil glanced at Gordon, “Just wondering who I should blame for Alan’s current condition, he’s stable, right?” The younger replied, looking straight into the horizon. “Yes, he’s stable, he’ll be okay Gordon,” Virgil looked in the same direction. “If you have to know, the Informant or Ambassador, I guess, called himself ‘Doctor Jasper Tesla’ Brains chewed him out if that gives you any closure.” The older shrugged, “...Thanks I’ll keep that name in mind.”

#inktober #please dont come after me #ooc core fr fr rn #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go 2015 #fanfic #this isnt edited lol #no beta we die like men #yes i am an ao3 author it is showing

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wdwmarveldisney · 4 years ago

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Hey again I have another isaac imagine again for the same situation as the last ones 😂 again I really appreciate u doing these they are really fantastic it brightens my day up when I see the notification honestly💕so it’s the start of 3b and instead of Allison it’s y/n who went underwater with Scott and stiles for that sacrifice thing and in season 2 maybe she got tortured by Gerard so she’s hallucinating him when she’s in school and stuff which makes her more defensive and gives her a shorter temper but also nervous and jittery and the scene where Allison almost shoots Lydia in the woods and isaac catches it they r just practicing and maybe in school y/n is hallucinating and runs into the woods and sees a arrow being shot and that like sets her off and sees Gerard and not Allison or Lydia and that’s when y/n throws the arrow back and that’s when the arrow nearly hits Lydia and isaac catches it (he’s followed y/n into the woods after seeing her freak out) and maybe the first few times she freaks out isaac helps her but maybe one times it’s really bad and someone else is there for her (Scott or even the twins) and isaac sees and it’s kinda when it registers in him that the two of them have actually broken up and he can’t always be there for her now since he broke up with her and maybe when it happen stiles says to him something about how him being there might do more harm than good since it hasn’t been that thing since he broke up with her and she’s still really hurt and seeing him will only make it worse (considering the relationship with stiles and isaac stiles would be brutally honest with him . Also he is a bit salty he hurt his best friend who’s like a sister to him)and the others times he helped her she was vulnerable and just needed anyone there for her so it also a cute friendship one with stiles and Scott or the twins whichever ones u choose that help her. Again I hope this makes sense sorry it’s so long ❤️

Can’t Be There For You

Isaac Lahey x reader

Summary: When you drown yourself in a bath of ice water to save your friends' parents and end up connecting with an ancient, supernatural tree, you'd probably expect it to screw with your brain.

Masterlist

A/N: Okay yes this took way too long and I’m so sorry about that. And honestly, I can’t stop smiling at the fact you said it brightens my day. It means a lot so thank you. Also not proofread so I apologise for all mistakes and there’s probably going to be quite a few.

GIF isn’t mine

Being on high alert all the time was not fun, especially when you're a werewolf. But when you drown yourself in a bath of ice water to save your friends' parents and end up connecting with an ancient, supernatural tree, you'd probably expect it to screw with your brain. It was screwing with your head too much, too many hallucinations and sounds that weren't there really making you feel crazy. You had told only Isaac at first before telling Scott and Stiles after a while. But you had found a few things that sometimes helped, one being a run. Running cleared your head and always ended being something you needed.

You were with Scott, Stiles and Isaac when this hallucination started up, Gerard standing at the desk with his arms crossed as he tortured you yet again. You screwed your eyes shut at first to block it out but it was too strong and too loud. Nobody noticed anything until your breathing became a little heavier and you accidentally snapped part of the chair you were sitting on. When you realised they realised, you quickly excused yourself with a small 'I gotta go,' and left without any word of acknowledgement to their worried calls. You drove out to the preserve, changing your shoes before putting some music on to try and block out the words and memories playing on repeat in your head. Each punch, each shot of electricity, each bullet and waterboarding was something you'd never forget and never wanted to happen to someone else ever. That feeling of the water passing through the cloth and the struggle to breath was often how you woke up now, clawing at your throat like it would help.

One earphone in and the other swaying around as you ran, you were a good five songs in before you heard it. There was a snap of twig from somewhere behind you and suddenly everything else shut out as you spun round and round to try and find the source. Swoosh. Leaning to the side, you grabbed at the arrow as your breath began to pick up and your heightened senses overloaded. Panic took control of your conscious mind and all you could see was Gerard standing there, crossbow in hand. Without any thought to it, you threw the arrow back perfectly and once you blinked, a gasp left you. It wasn't Gerard you had almost killed but instead a wide eyed Lydia, one of your closest friends, and it wasn't for Isaac, well you didn't want to think about that.

The blonde was quick to drop the arrow and rush to you, who had stumbled back into a tree behind you and slid to the ground as you tried to will yourself not to lose control again. But your claws still grew and your eyes glowed that bright gold. You could hear his voice echo in your head and you could see him crouching in front of you until you looked down to the gentle hand on your shoulder and then you finally saw who was in front of you and felt the relief flood over you as Isaac tried to calm you down. He offered you his hands, counting to ten with you as you squeezed each finger.

His smile was worried and scared and you hated yourself for doing that to him. Your head fell back against the bark as you held his hand to hopefully anchor you, "I'm fine," Isaac's splutters made you smile lightly before you lifted your head and looked towards Lydia just behind him, "I'm sorry I almost killed you," she gave a shrug, knowing what was up with you and knowing it wasn't something you meant to do. Once Isaac was sure you were okay, he lead you back to the cars after admitting he followed you and that was the last time he helped you with one of those before he broke up with you.

He didn't even know you carried on having them until he was looking Scott and found him, Stiles and Aiden standing around you with Ethan standing nervously at the side, trying to comfort you as you wiped at your eyes. You were sitting in the showers in the boys locker room, a technique he knew was Scott's doing. Isaac was about to offer his help when it finally hit him how little help that would be. You still hadn't started talking to him anymore than you had to and it killed him he couldn't be there for you anymore. You needed him and he bailed out. And of course Stiles Stilinski was there to remind him of that.

"Lahey, I think you should go. It's not a good time," before Isaac could even protest, saying that he knew that, Stiles carried on, "You being here isn't going to do her any good. Actually, it's probably going to send her into a werewolf frenzy again since she's only really just got control and then when she's beating your little werewolf ass in a fight, I'm going to be in her corner cheering her on," he gave an overly sweet smile as Isaac glanced between a heavily breathing you and an annoyed Stiles. "I know. I know, just, she has this calming technique where she squeezed your fingers to count to ten, okay? It helps a lot, she showed it to me. You just have to do it on repeat until she's calm,"

Seeing how serious Isaac was, Stiles gave a nod and watched the boy hesitantly leave before heading back and make sure Scott had listened in like usual and clearly he had because he already kneeled in front of you and was counting quietly with you as the gold faded. Aiden was by your side, arm around you since Stiles left to get rid of Isaac and the Stilinski boy already made his way back. He sat on your other side and let your head fall to his shoulder when you stopped counting. "You okay now?"

"I don't have any spare clothes and my socks are wet so no, not completely," you laughed with Scott and Stiles as the twins shared a relieved smile and your two best friends helped you up and towards some extra clothes you could borrow.

#teen wolf x reader #teen wolf x y/n #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf #isaac lahey x werewolf!reader #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey

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whereisten · 5 years ago

Text

The New Kid

A Mark fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: the new kid in town is nerdy, quiet, and cute. The two of you grow close, but could he be hiding a secret that might put your life in danger?

Pairing: Spider-Man!Mark x female reader (Mary Jane?)

Other Characters: best friend!Haechan, Ex-Boyfriend!Jeno, Villain!Taeyong

Genre: Superhero! Sci-fi, fluff (enemies? more like awkward classmates to lovers), some angst and violence, comedy, a little suggestive?

Warnings: a little cursing, minor mentions of verbal abuse, gun usage, some violent acts, blackmail, hostage situation

Word Count: 10K

(A/N: alright well..this shouldn’t have been this long but I had a lot of fun with this one so I hope you enjoy it😂, Spider-Man Mark is just so adorable my heartssnsjksjsjksk. Also..barely proofread, so mistakes, I know they’re there, but I pretend I do not see them😌)

—————

“Good morning class! Everyone please welcome our new student, Mark Lee!”

Your teacher held her arm out as she welcomed Mark in your Chemistry class.

Your head snaps up from your notebook.

A boy with round eyes and short brown wavy hair walks in.

“Hi..” he gives a thin smile and a small wave.

Your first thought is of how adorable he is. Your second thought is of how he looks nervous to enter a new school just a month after the year has started.

The class is silent with the exception of a few sniffles and music blasting through headphones.

Please don’t sit here, please don’t sit here.

You didn’t really have anything against him, you just loved having a table all to yourself.

“Please..sit beside y/n, for now.”

Damn it.

Mark pulled the chair out and sat beside you.

“...hi.” He said as he placed his backpack down.

“Hi.” You raise your eyebrows and open your notebook.

You just had to sit next to the awkward new kid. Perfect.

———

[Two Weeks Later]

You and Mark worked on your first project together. You had to come up with a presentation for the fall science fair, so you had to work well together.

“It’s a chance for you guys to get to know each other and build yourselves!” Your teacher said excitedly but the truth was that you weren’t thrilled to be working with anyone.

You rolled your eyes and turned to Mark.

“Alright..where do we start?”

“Well, the instructions say to combine water and salt first, so I guess we’ll start there.” Mark puts his round glasses on and smiles at you, but you frown.

“Okay, you’re the nerd so..” you raise your brows.

Mark chuckled. “We barely know each other.”

“Come on, who in the world wears glasses like that, You look like Harry Potter.”

“I love that movie, is that a bad thing?” Mark asked with genuine confusion.

“Harry Potter is great and all, but what horror movies do you like?” You started to doodle in your notebook.

You loved horror movies, you loved autumn and everything dark and dreary about it.

“Hmmm..I don’t watch horror movies..”

You gasp and drop your pen. “You don’t..watch horror movies?” Your eyes widened like you had been hurt deeply by his lack of taste.

He returned the same look of shock. “They’re not my thing.”

“Aish..what a loser..” you say under your breath.

You turned back to your notebook and continued to doodle.

“So where are you from anyway, Potter?”

“I’m from Toronto.”

“I see, and this little town looked appealing to your parents, didn’t it?”

He nods and looks at the side of your face, noting how under your bleak persona and poor attitude, was a pretty face and gentle touch. He could tell from the way you delicately drew in your book.

His senses also picked up on your relaxed blood pressure and steady breathing.

He saw every pore and heard every breath you took, your lashes looked extremely long as well, bringing about a dazzling gorgeousness to your eyes.

The very surface of your round lips was soft and plump, there was a shade new to him that rested at the center.

“Mark?” You turned to him.

He quickly looked away and shifted in his chair.

“Y-yeah..I’m living with my aunt here..my parents passed away a while ago.”

“Oh..I’m sorry..” you looked down at the table.

“Hey. You don’t have to feel bad about it..”

Mark smiled softly as he heard your heart rate speed up from nervousness.

“Mark..I-“ the bell rang and you thanked the heavens for it.

Mark turned and grabbed his bag before you could say anything else. “Well, I’ll catch ya later.”

“‘CaTcH yA LAtEr’” you mocked him to lighten the mood. “Yeah, Potter, I guess we’ll work more next time..”

He laughed.

His eyes became small lines and his cheeks puffed up, he was adorable, like a kid in a candy store.

You turned away before your face became hot.

———

[1 Month Later]

“The new kid is kinda cute..” Haechan took a sip of his juice while the two of you ate lunch.

“God, I wish I was in your class, do you think the counselor will change my class schedule now if I come up with a dumb excuse?”

You rolled your eyes. “Nah, I don’t think she will, and even if she did, why would you want to be in a class with that nerd?”

Mark was sitting by himself at a table in the corner, he was reading a book while chewing chicken tenders.

Haechan pouted. “But just look at him..I bet he’s the best kisser, do you see those lips?”

“Ew Haechan! He’s my partner in class, I don’t want to think about his lips!” You gagged and started to peel your banana.

Mark could hear you, he could hear everyone’s conversations in the cafeteria for little did you know of his secret.

“So you’re telling me you wouldn’t give him a chance, even though you gave a notorious school douchebag named Jeno one?” Haechan glared at you.

You kicked his shin under the table. “We don’t say that name here anymore.”

Haechan hissed. “You’re closer than I’ll ever be to that cutie..you better take advantage of that, I bet he’s super nice too.” He rested his chin in his hands as he swooned over Mark.

You rolled your eyes then locked eye contact with Mark just as you stuffed the banana into your mouth. You were frozen. The banana was about halfway in and Mark never let your eyes go.

You chomped on it and looked away.

Mark giggled and went back to reading his book.

“You open your mouth pretty wide for a girl that doesn’t know how to use it..” Jeno snickered as he walked by your table.

Your mouth was full so you couldn’t come up with a quick comeback, but luckily, that’s what Haechan was there for.

“Oh, shut up, big head. Like you could fill anyone’s mouth with that chicken nugget of a wee wee!”

You nearly choked and covered your mouth as you laughed.

Mark, who was over 30 feet away, laughed too.

Jeno quickly turned around to walk back to your table, but ended up colliding into Taeyong, the scary and filthy rich senior that everyone stayed away from.

Him and his posse, complete with Yuta and Johnny, were tall seniors that gave everyone death glares. Even the teachers weren’t safe. Taeyong’s father was the wealthiest man in town, he was a kingpin so he possessed a lot of power.

Jeno raised his hands. “Whoa, bro, I’m sorry.”

Taeyong steadied himself and pulled his hands out of his pockets. The entire cafeteria froze, you all had never seen anyone get in their way. Taeyong walked around in black clothing and never took his hands out of his pockets for it ruined his nonchalant attitude.

The black haired boy crossed his arms and stepped towards Jeno.

“If I were in the mood..I’d tell you to get on your knees and beg for my forgiveness..” his intense gaze made Jeno tremble. Hell, even you swallowed hard from fear.

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

Taeyong’s mouth tilted into a smile, he rubbed his thumb along the side of Jeno’s face. Johnny and Yuta stood behind him while they smirked and chuckled at Jeno’s subordinance.

“I know it won’t.”

He walked away and out of the cafeteria.

Jeno scurried back to his group of friends while the rest of the students resumed their lunch.

Mark didn’t like the sound of this guy. He knew who his father was and he knew that he would be the only that could stop him and save the innocent lives threatened by him.

Later that day, you were getting ready to leave school when Haechan popped up behind your locker as you closed it.

“Shit!” You jumped when he popped up.

He cackled. “You know, for someone that watches a lot of horror films, you sure do get scared pretty easily.”

You huffed and swung your backpack over your shoulder. You didn’t notice Mark behind you and your bag nearly smacked him in the face, but thanks to his senses, he ducked quickly.

“Y/n!” Haechan saw Mark behind you.

“What?” You said as you turned.

Mark was there behind you, squatting below you awkwardly and looking up at your face.

You furrowed your brows. “What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to get a peak of something down there?”

Mark shot up straight and shook his head.

“N-no, no I’m sorry I was just..I know we are a little behind..but I was wondering if you wanted to work on the project together after..school, or-or something..” he looked nervous to talk to you. He kept looking to the side to dodge your eyes.

“I can’t today..I’m-“

Haechan butt in excitedly. “Oh! That works perfectly! Y/n, I was actually coming to tell you that I can’t go to the movies tonight! I have to do some extra work with my partner too! We can all study at Starbucks!”

You turned to him and glared. ‘What the hell’ you mouthed.

His eyes grew. ‘Just say yes’ he mouthed while nodding towards Mark.

Mark still looked to the side.

“Fine..meet us at the Starbucks on 10th at 5..loser.” You gripped the strap of your bag while walking away.

Mark chuckled at the nickname you gave him. He thought you were different, cute, but different.

At Starbucks, Mark was there before you were and ordered coffee for you.

“For me?” Your eyes widened.

Mark nodded and smiled widely. “Yeah! I don’t know if you like cream or sugar, so I got it black but everything is over there if you-“

You giggled and Mark swore he saw heaven when you smiled. “I know how it works, Mark, thank you for this.”

You rarely said his name, but he felt weak when you did.

Haechan and his lab partner joined the two of you. You did some more research for your project and talked about it while Mark jotted down important notes.

Haechan and his partner, Renjun, were supposed to be doing the same thing, but Haechan was too busy staring at Mark’s eyes.

“Haechan..Haechan!” Renjun tapped his hand.

They continued to work and as everyone got more tired, you noticed that Mark wasn’t jotting down notes like he did in the beginning. He was watching you talk, he liked watching your lips move and hearing your soothing voice. His eyes were locked on your face; it made your heart tremble.

“Mark?” You raised your brows and bit your bottom lip.

“Yeah..yeah!” He shook his head to come out of his daze.

“Did you catch anything I said? You've been staring for at least five minutes now..”

“I was..focusing.” Mark averted his gaze to the ceiling.

You shook your head. “You’re weird, Potter.”

Mark licked his lips and looked at the table. “I’m sorry I’m just a bit tired..”

“Me too! I think we should call it a night!” Haechan stretched his arms out and up high.

He cleared his throat as you all started to pack your things away.

“Mark..so we’re all going to the movies to see that new horror film, “Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark” tomorrow. Wanna come?”

You kicked his shin again.

“Mark doesn’t like horror movies.”

Mark scratched the back of his head. “Well, I only said I don’t watch them, not that I don’t like them..”

You sighed.

“Perfect! So we’ll see you tomorrow at 8! This is so exciting, it feels like a date!”

“Haechan!” You stood up from the table, glaring into his skull once again.

He shrugged his shoulders and stood up too. The four of you walked towards the door.

Mark only laughed awkwardly.

“Hey.. y/n..”

You paused and turned around. “Yeah?”

“Will you be alright..getting home at this time?”

You laughed out. “I’m fine..I take the bus at this time all the time!”

Mark nodded.

He was caring and it was strange for you, for someone to genuinely care about you for the first time in a while.

He had his own car. An old Hyundai that got him where he needed to be. He had parked it outside of the Starbucks.

He waited with you at the bus stop right outside. Haechan took Renjun home.

“We can wait in my car if you want..it’s kinda cold out here.” He asked as you pushed your hands into your hoodie and shivered.

“My mother told me to never get in cars with strangers.” You turned to him and smiled.

He chuckled and stepped forward on his toes.

“Well, if that’s what you consider me to be then..I won’t push you..”

You shook your head. “Mark..you’re weird..I was just teasing, take me to your chariot before I freeze to death, please.”

You got into his car and the two of you sat in silence.

You checked your phone and saw that your bus was running about 20 minutes late.

You sighed and leaned back into his car seat.

“Do you like this town so far?” You looked out the window as you spoke.

Mark loved being near you, you calmed him down and his senses didn’t go crazy like they usually did. Sometimes everything was so unbearable, but not when he was around you. He was happy that no one was in danger while he spent the evening with you.

“It’s..alright..” he spoke honestly, finding it difficult to lie about how he struggled to adjust to his new life, without his uncle, without his hometown friends, without his “normal, super power-less” life. He had been bitten by a spider and given these powers just a few months before moving.

“Do you miss your friends?”

“Of course..” he swallowed hard as he remembered playing basketball with his buddies.

“And your girlfriend..”

You let it slip out before thinking. Why did you care?

“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend..”

You turned to him with bunched up brows. “Boyfriend?”

Mark giggled. “I don’t have either..why do you ask?”

He smirked as he tilted his head.

You scoffed. “Oh, Potter, don’t give me that look..I just wanna know more about you.”

“What about you? Tell me about yourself.”

You swallowed hard. “Well..I think this town is boring..my parents are divorced and missing half the time..I broke up with my asshat of a boyfriend, Jeno, before school started..and now I’m stuck here with the school loser.”

“Stuck?” Mark raised his brows. “You can jump out any time you want and stand in the cold.”

You put your hand on the door handle but he quickly leaned over and placed his hand on yours. Your breath hit his neck. He turned to you with wide eyes as he realized that he was actually touching you.

You froze.

He froze as well. “I’m..I’m kidding, you shouldn’t leave until your bus gets here.”

He sat down in his seat and cleared his throat but you still felt his soft hand on your skin.

You chuckled. “You’re so strange, Mark. I guess it’s a Canada thing.”

“I like..spending time with you, if I’m being honest. I don’t have many friends here but you’re..cool.”

You turned to him. “Cool?? You think I’m cool?”

Mark put his head on the steering wheel and sighed, realizing the mistake he made. “Why did I say that?”

“Haha! Potter! You can’t take it back!”

The two of you spoke about music and entertainment. You told Mark that you were happy to see that he was going to try a horror movie with you tomorrow. You finally opened up to him as he did to you also.

You both laughed and genuinely enjoyed each other’s company.

He was a breath of fresh air in this town.

————

[The Next Day]

“It’s going to start in 5 minutes, where is he?” Haechan huffed as he looked at his watch.

You stood at the front of the movie theatre and looked around for Mark, but he was nowhere to be found. Was he really ditching you? You bought him a ticket and popcorn which had gotten cold by now. The ads that played before the movie were almost done. Haechan gave up and went into the theatre with Renjun. You stood there alone, awkwardly waiting like someone that was being stood up for their date. You looked at your phone but there were no texts or calls from Mark.

“Hey, I know you..” a voice spoke out from behind you.

You felt a sense of relief.

That was, until you turned and saw him.

Taeyong stood there with his hands in his midnight black trench coat, his hair was neatly parted to the side and two gold chains dazzled around his pretty neck.

“Are you alone?” He stepped towards you, a chill ran through your body and it wasn’t because of the temperature outside.

Your face fell, you stepped backwards away from him.

“I’m—I’m fine, thank you.”

Taeyong smirked when he saw your face of worry. He looked smug, dangerously handsome and cool.

“Whoever it is you’re waiting for...they’d be a fool not to show up..” his voice was deep, giving you goosebumps as you stared.

Was he flirting with you?

You laughed awkwardly.

A girl in a thin black body con dress walked up to him and grabbed his arm.

“Ready, babe?” She flipped her hair as she stared at him, but he still looked at you.

You felt bad for her. Yeah, she looked good, but at the cost of freezing in 20°F weather? Not even a gorgeous man like Taeyong was worth that.

“Sure..” he said smoothly.

They both walked into the theatre. You followed soon after. You found Haechan and Renjun and joined them. Haechan gave you a questioning look but you shook your head.

Mark never showed up.

He was too busy stopping a robbery downtown. It was him against 7 heavyweight champions trying to rob a bank. They were Kingpin’s men, but Mark used his web to bind them to the counters until police came.

By the time he finished, the movie was almost halfway done.

He sighed and grabbed his mask off while in a dark alleyway. He unlocked his phone.

You to Mark: where are you, loser? The popcorn is getting cold.

He smiled to himself. You got him popcorn, one of his faves.

You to Mark: gonna eat this by myself if you don’t show..

The next text message was a picture of Sour Patch Kids candy, the watermelon kind that he also loved.

You actually remembered him telling you he liked watermelons one day in class.

He closed his eyes and cursed quietly. He wanted to get close to you, but he was already messing things up.

————

[The Following Monday]

You threw your backpack down and sat in your seat in class.

Mark walked in soon after.

“You ignored my texts..” he said softly.

You ignored him and put your Bluetooth earbuds in.

He sighed then looked at his notebook.

“So you’re just not gonna talk to me?”

You bobbed your head and started writing as music played.

Mark looked around. Everyone had their heads down, they were either writing in their books or reading. So he put his hand behind his back, he quickly shot a web out to your ear bud. It malfunctioned and suddenly stopped working.

You took it out and looked at it.

“What the hell..” you whispered, genuinely confused as to why it burnt up while actually in your ear.

“Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t show up on Friday, but something happened..I wanted to be there, and—“

You finally turned to him. “Yeah, you chickened out. I’m sure you had better plans for your Friday night than to watch a stupid horror movie with me.”

Mark frowned. “No, no it’s not like that at all.” He wanted to be there with you and watch your face as you enjoyed something dear to you, he wanted to share popcorn and gummies, but those moments are a part of normal life for a normal teenager. He couldn’t have that.

“Really?” You raised your brows and placed your head in your hand. “I know what being second place in someone’s life feels like, Mark. It’s the same crap my parents and my ex put me through..I won’t go through it again.”

Mark shook his head and leaned towards you.

“I’m not like them, I’m here for you, give me a second chance..”

“Hey! Less talking about the weekend, more writing about science!” Your teacher called out.

When class ended, Mark followed you through the halls.

“I had something personal to take care of, y/n. Can we see a movie tomorrow or something?”

You shook your head and gripped the strap of your backpack. “There aren’t any movies out right now that I’m interested in..”

“Okay, umm how about a pumpkin patch?!”

You turned to him with wide eyes. “What are we? 10 years old?” You scoffed and turned to walk then bumped into someone’s broad chest.

You looked up slowly. It was him. “Oh..I’m sorry.” You exhaled.

“Be careful, I might just bite next time..” Taeyong’s smile gave you the creeps. It bothered you that you were seeing him more frequently.

Mark took your hand suddenly. “Hey..we’re gonna be late.” He spoke firmly and glared before taking you out of Taeyong’s sight.

Mark kept pressing you for a second chance as you continued to walk to the cafeteria.

“Okay, fine. Umm there’s this Halloween party this Friday, I don’t really want to go, but-“

“Let’s go! We can get something to eat after, my treat!”

You nodded quickly just so he’d leave you alone.

“Okay, Mark, let’s just get through this week.”

———

[Friday Night]

Haechan helped you out of his car when you got to the party. You wore a tight white dress and a feathery halo along with a small pair of wings.

You looked amazing with glittery makeup and white heels as your accessories.

Haechan dressed as a zombie and did a spectacular job on his makeup. He looked like he had really been bitten on the neck and the virus had spread throughout, leaving him grey with purple and green veins throughout his face.

You pulled your dress down and waited in the kitchen for Mark.

You grabbed yourself a beer and cracked it open.

Haechan drank with you as well.

He swallowed hard. “The nice refreshing taste of piss.”

“Yup, seems about right.” You winced and put the can down.

“Well, well..it seems the Virgin angel has arrived.” Jeno walked in behind you and grabbed a beer. He was dressed as a devil. The two of you had long since talked about dressing as the angel & devil pair for Halloween as a couple, but now that you had broken up, you didn’t think that he'd still do it.

You rolled your eyes. “What happened? Were your natural horns not enough?”

Jeno chuckled and tilted his head. “We’re playing 7 minutes in Heaven next..I’d ask you to join, but I know you’re just a teaser, never a pleaser.”

You scoffed, but Haechan jumped in.

“That’s what your little friend over there said last night when you pulled your pants down.”

Jeno flipped him the bird and walked away.

You went to the bathroom and checked your makeup. You looked wonderful, your boobs stuck out and your dress hugged your curves perfectly. You rarely dressed like this but it was nice to look and feel..pretty., you quickly fixed your lipstick and left.

As you turned the corner, you ran into him again.

“Ahhh..perfect timing, I did say I would bite you the next time we ran into each other.” Taeyong’s eyes widened.

You backed away and laughed.

He was dressed fittingly as a vampire. He was dark and mysterious like one, so you weren’t surprised. He looked even more handsome than usual in his dark eye makeup complete with black liner and red eyeshadow.

But the way he stared made you..uneasy.

His gaze trailed from your lips to your cleavage as he eyed you up and down.

You stood there in silence.

“Do you—“ he started to pose a question as he stepped forward but his girl walked up and hugged him from behind.

She squeezed him gently, but Taeyong looked annoyed. “Let’s go upstairs, baby…” she said lowly while looking into your eyes with an evil glare.

Haechan came and grabbed your hand. You turned away from the two love birds and followed him, never once worrying about what Taeyong had to say again.

“He’s here!” You heard Haechan gasp.

Mark walked in. He was wearing a...Spider-Man costume.

You giggled at how cute he looked in it. You saw his cute little butt as he spun around looking for you through the crowd in the house.

You raised your hand. “Mark!” You called out to him.

He finally saw you and started to walk over.

You couldn’t stop yourself from grinning. He was adorable as he giggled.

“Why Spider-Man?”

He shrugged. “Eh—I like the way my butt looks.”

You laughed and took his hand to the living room where a few people sat on the floor a circle.

They spun a bottle and whoever it landed on would be placed in a closet for 7 minutes in heaven.

Two members from the group were missing so you and Mark took their spots as they did whatever they were doing in the closet. He helped you squat down while pulling your dress down your thighs.

You rolled your eyes as Jeno held his new girl crush close to him. If he wanted to be with her in the closet, why did he sit beside her? You thought to yourself.

Everyone took turns spinning the bottle and when it got to you, you spun it fast, hoping that it wouldn’t land on someone that you knew, that way it would be just as awkward for the both of you.

Mark watched the bottle spin and based on the speed and rotation of the beer bottle, he knew that one end would end up pointing to you and the other would point to..Jeno.

As it spun, he placed his hand behind his back.

He looked up and pointed to the kitchen with his other hand.

“Oh my god, what is that?!” He yelled, causing everyone to turn to look at whatever he was pointing at.

You turned as well, so Mark quickly shot a small squirt of his web to increase the speed a little.

“What are you talking about?” You asked when you turned back to him. Everyone else turned back too.

“Oh, I could’ve sworn I saw a rat..maybe it was a decoration.” He shrugged his shoulders.

The bottle slowed down to a halt and just as you dreaded. It landed on you and..Mark.

Jeno laughed out loudly.

“What’s so funny?” Mark gave him a look of annoyance.

“It’s just that..she’s the biggest prude I know, good luck bro, she doesn’t give it up.”

“Maybe because she doesn’t want to..I mean, have you thought about how much of an asshole you are?” Haechan spat out.

Mark looked at you as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“Y/n..you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to..”

Jeno chuckled again.

You didn’t really want to be this close with Mark, but you had to. You had to prove Jeno wrong, even if you and Mark did nothing but stare at each other. You wanted Jeno to know that you weren’t a prude like he thought.

You stood up and nodded. “Let’s go..”

The two of you stood in the tight closet awkwardly.

The light was dim, but you saw Mark’s features clearly. His dainty nose and high cheekbones, his wide eyes and cute lips. He looked to the side nervously.

The truth was, you looked amazing in your dress. He felt his face become warm when he looked at your cleavage. The glitter made your skin sparkle even more than it usually did.

“So…” you stepped up and down. “I’m glad you came..”

“I’m glad I came too.” He swallowed hard. “Oh.. that, uhh, sounded weird, I’m sorry..”

“Mark..” you giggled. “You don’t have to be awkward, it’s me..it’s just that I’m wearing tight clothing for once..”

He chuckled and looked into your eyes. He raised an eyebrow, making your stomach weak.

“It’s not just that..” his voice is lower, quieter so no one can hear the two of you.

“What is it then?” You smirk.

He stares at your lips and as he’s about to answer a red alarm blares out in his head. His senses are tingling, someone is in trouble.

He squints and turns away. “I-i have to go…”

You step forward. “What? Are you..okay?”

You place your hands on his shoulder.

He loves the touch but can’t stop this nagging feeling. He had to go where his mind told him to go, he had to tend to whatever needed him or else he'd go insane from the noise.

“I can’t explain it, it’s like a migraine, I..just have to go.”

He turns to head through the closet door but you step in front of him.

“Mark, if you leave it’ll just prove Jeno right. Please just 5 more minutes, I’m sure you can stand being with me for just that.”

“I can’t. I have to go.”

You scoff and continue to block the door. “What? Do you have to run home to your aunt or something? Are you out too late?”

Mark shakes his head. “Y/n..it’s not that, I just—“

“Gotta be a good boy and go home now?” You teased him to buy time. You really didn’t want Jeno to gain any satisfaction from learning that the two of you did nothing.

“Y/n..” he looked intensely into your eyes. His eyes then floated down to your lips as he watched you nag at him.

“Mark, what is it with you? You bailed on me last time! Do you hate being around me or what?”

He took your face in his hands and kissed you hard and sudden.

Your back hit the closet door causing it to swing open.

But Mark didn’t care, he still held your face close to his and caressed your mouth. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling of him on you. The way his tongue traced over your bottom lip for permission to enter, the way his nose poked your cheek.

You opened your mouth and turned your head to deepen the kiss.

Sparks flew between you and you both felt giddy. Blood rushed through your veins. Mark’s senses were calmed for a bit as they focused on what he felt right now with you. The building tension and the satisfying release.

You fell into him more and more. Even as the others cheered while watching, the two of you were consumed by each other.

You feel butterflies flying around without any intention of stopping and then..he pulls away. Your eyes open and you see your red lipstick all over the handsome boy’s mouth, confirming that what felt like a wonderful dream was actually a reality.

He stares at you through low eyes and licks his lips while panting.

Your lips are still parted while you too breathe heavily.

Your eyes are round and beg for more. Mark wants it too.

You look at his lips and lean forward, but he backs away and swallows hard.

“Catch ya later!” He runs out of the house as you stand there in shock.

Haechan’s mouth falls open.

“Oh...shit.”

———-

[The Next Day]

Taeyong listened to his father complain about the new superhero in town while at dinner.

“I don’t know where this little shit came from but he’s ruining EVERYTHING. We can’t get a simple delivery done without him popping up.”

Kingpin slams his fork down.

“He shoots a web here, he shoots a web there, and suddenly, my men are down and out! Tell me how that makes sense?”

“I’m sure they will stop him soon, he’ll get tired and give up.” Taeyong’s mother continued eating.

“Christ, I’m stressed and then we get a call from your teacher saying that you’re not showing up for class?!”

His father turned his attention to him while pointing a finger.

Taeyong shrugged.

“What the hell you moving your shoulders for? Answer me!”

Taeyong puts his fork down and sighs. “That class is a waste of time..”

“No, the only thing that’s being wasted is MY time and MY effort to get you to good college, you think I want you to end up like me?” His father’s voice rose.

“Is that such a bad thing?” A smirk fell across Taeyong’s face, irritating his father.

“Listen to me, boy, you could never handle the shit i handle, so DONT even think about it. You take your sorry ass to class and you graduate and go to college. Make something of that pea-sized brain of yours.”

“Honey..” his mom placed her hand on his father’s, but he lifted it and waved her off.

“Don’t! He’s like this because you spoil him. He’s a spoiled little brat.”

Taeyong continued eating, he was used to being insulted by his father.

“Dont speak like that, you’re just stressed because of Spider-Man, dear.”

“Shut it! You know that it’s true, you know he’s worthless!”

He stood up and gave Taeyong a frightening glare.

“You got one chance to prove me wrong, boy, make one more mistake and you’re out and on the streets with the druggies!” He huffed and left the dining room.

Taeyong sat quietly, gripping his fork in his fist and thinking about what to do. How could he prove to his father that he would be able to take over the business?

———-

[Monday]

You didn’t say a word to Mark for the first few minutes of class.

It was awkward but Mark didn’t seem to be bothered. He simply did his work in his notebook while listening to his music.

While the teacher was busy, you turned to him.

“Mark?” You whispered and leaned forward to get his attention.

“Mark?”

He still moved his head to the music.

You tapped his shoulder.

He turned to you with large eyes and took his headphones out.

“Yeah?” He said innocently.

“What do you mean by “yeah?” Are we not going to talk about the party?”

Mark smirked. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You nodded. “Mark, what was that about?” You knew what it was, you felt it every time you looked at each other. You had a developing crush on the boy you called a loser, you were just trying to hide it but it was becoming difficult as he was perfect in every way.

His cute eyes, nice lips, beautiful brown hair..you loved it all.

But most of all, you loved how sweet and caring he was, how he spoke to you and made you feel like you were the center of the universe as his entire focus rested on you.

He licked his lips. “I...did that to help you prove your boyfriend wrong.”

You blinked rapidly. “That was the only reason?”

“Um..yeahhh.” Mark looked to the side and moved his head in a “duh” motion.

“Oh..okay..” you looked down at your notebook and continued writing, feeling disappointed. But what did you expect? For Mark to confess his love for you? What a bizarre thought. You shook it off.

Later that day when you were at lunch, Haechan asked you about Mark.

“So what did he say?” He asked with his mouth full.

“He said he was just covering for me.” You shrugged your shoulders.

“Ahhh..I doubt it though, you guys made out like..really made out, it was sexy. If I knew you could kiss like that, I would’ve kissed you a long time ago.” he raises his eyebrows.

You made a look of disgust. “Ew! As if!”

You and Haechan giggled and continued eating.

You looked over at Mark’s usual eating spot in the cafeteria, but he wasn’t there.

“Where’s that big head, Jeno?” Haechan tilted his head when he realized that Jeno didn’t pass by for his usual snarky comment session.

“Hmm that’s a good question, I don’t see Mark either.”

“Oooo..are you waiting for a round two with him?” Haechan teased, but something didn’t feel right.

You stood up. “Hey, I’ll be right back.”

Haechan nodded and you turned away to walk around the halls.

You peaked down all of the corridors looking for him.

You eventually went outside to the soccer field and heard whimpering behind the bleachers.

You walked towards it and saw three boys gathered around another boy in the middle. The boy in the middle was crouching down and holding his stomach.

You walked faster.

“Give me his glasses!” You heard one of the boys say.

“He had these ugly things on and still couldn’t see us coming..”

You recognized the voice.

It was Jeno. As you got closer you saw Jeno raise his foot to kick at the boy on the ground, and to your surprise, it was Mark.

“Shit…” you ran closer, but Mark grabbed Jeno’s foot and threw him to the floor.

Your eyes grew as Jeno’s back pummeled down into the ground with so much force, you swore the floor shook. How was Mark that strong?

Jeno groaned in pain. The other two boys stared in shock before turning back to Mark and delivering blows to his chest.

Mark couldn’t take on the two of them.

“I don’t want to hurt you!” He called out to them, he was holding back for their safety.

“Hey!” You yelled as you got closer.

“Oh..look who showed up..the school slut..” Jeno said as he stood up straight and winced from the pain in his back.

“You gave it up to the new guy, y/n? Wow, I guess you are like your mother..”

“Hey!” Mark called out to him, but the other two boys held him up by the arms to keep him from hitting Jeno again. Jeno balled his fists up and was about to hit Mark in the chest.

“You’re an asshole, Jeno!” You ran up to him and swung hard, landing a clean punch to the side of his unexpecting face.

“Hey, what the hell is going on here?!” Vice Principal Kim called out.

“Shit.” You held your hand as a stinging pain shot through it.

The two boys let go of Mark and ran, leaving you, Mark, and Jeno to the mercy of the vice principal.

You sat in detention with a wrapped hand. Mark sat a few desks behind you and Jeno sat in front with a pretty black eye.

You are proud of yourself for doing something you should’ve done to him long ago.

You watched the clock tick for an hour as you sat there with nothing to do.

Mark felt terrible for getting you involved, he would’ve handled it on his own but you jumped in to help him and now you were hurt.

After detention, you grabbed your backpack and left without talking to Mark.

“Hey..” he ran up to you.

“Hey..I’m sorry..about that, I didn’t want you to get involved..”

“It’s not your fault, Mark, it’s just that..I’d rather be alone right now..” you had to walk home after missing the last bus.

“I’ll drive you home, it’s the least I can do.”

You turned to him and raised your brows.

“Without your glasses? Can you even see my face right now?”

Mark laughed. “Actually..I have something to tell you…”

“Go on..”

“I don’t need the glasses, I just like it when you call me Potter.”

A smile creeped across your face as you felt it become warm. You couldn’t help but laugh.

Mark drove you home as the two of you talked about Jeno’s look of shock.

“His face was priceless!” Mark scrunched his nose up and laughed gloriously.

You enjoyed watching him laugh, and without his glasses, he looked even more handsome.

You reached home and sighed. “Ahh..great, now I have to explain to my parents why my hand is swollen..”

Mark lifted your wrapped hand gently. “How does it feel? Does it hurt?” He bunched his brows up.

“And if it did, could you take the pain away?” You smirked.

Mark nodded. “I wish I could..”

“It’s fine, I’ll be fine, I took boxing class in the 9th grade..” you teased him but his eyes widened.

“Boxing class?! That is so cool!”

You giggled. “Mark, you’re so gullible!”

“Oh..” he looked down in defeat and blushed.

A moment of silence rested between the two of you.

You stared at his lips. “Well..I should get going..”

Mark parked across the street from your house so your parents wouldn’t see you coming out of a strange car.

You unbuckled yourself seat belt.

“Hey..” Mark said softly.

You turned back to him and watched his parted lips.

He leaned in closer as you swallowed hard. He was so close, just a few more inches.

Your phone rang out and you looked down.

Shit, Haechan texted you.

Mark smiled and leaned back into his seat. “I’m sorry, um..thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, Potter.” You winked and got out of the car.

He got out of the car and watched you head home.

But his spidey senses started to blare, something was coming, but you were texting on your phone as you crossed the street.

Everything happened in slow motion. The pick up truck speeding towards you, the steps you took to cross the road. You were moving too slow.

He had calculated it all. If he ran to you, he’d be too late, if he jumped in front of the truck he’d be too late and he’d get hurt.

There was only once thing he could do given the amount of time he had.

He stretched his arm out, flicked his wrist and shot a long sticky string out to your back. Once it latched itself onto your jacket, he yanked you back hard.

The truck sped by right in front of your eyes as you gripped your phone and looked up. You didn’t know what was happening or why you were flying backwards all of a sudden.

Your heart races, but soon you were in Mark’s arms. The truck came to a screeching halt once the driver realized that he almost hit you.

He spun you around to face him, not realizing that you were now entangled in his web.

You look terrified. “M-Mark..what the—“ you were out of breath, you looked down and saw the strings coming out of his skin.

Mark’s eyes widened as he looked down as well. The truck sped off after realizing that you were okay. It was just the two of you now, standing there in shock.

“Y/n…”

You let out a shakey breath. “Y-You're..him..You're—“

He put a finger over his lips. “Shhh..you can’t tell anyone.”

“S-spider-Man? THE Spider-Man??”

Mark nodded slowly.

Your mouth dropped.

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone.” Mark looked into your eyes and pleaded, his arms still held you tight to his chest.

You nodded but no sound came out.

He licked his lips and smiled. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

“Mark..holy shit, I’m gonna..”

“Please don’t pass out on me, I don’t want to carry you to your parents while you’re unconscious..”

“But Mark..I mean, you’re like.. a superhero..that’s so cool.” You grinned and still looked at him through surprised eyes.

Mark blushed. “You think I’m cool?”

“Oh, my God why did I say that?” You rolled your eyes.

Mark looked at your lips and it was your time to kiss him.

You placed your lips on his while taking his face in your hands. He hugged you tighter and kissed you back, diving into you like you were a breath of fresh air that he needed. You both closed your eyes and embraced the moment as your pulses ran fast and eventually matched.

You stood there for a few minutes while kissing and hugging like you were in a movie.

Neither you nor Mark noticed a car that was parked 50 feet away.

But not just anyone’s car, Taeyong’s car.

He had trailed Mark’s car after he saw the two of you leaving school. He had nothing better to do and just wanted to see what the two of you were up to, but then he saw how the web shot out of Mark’s hand quickly and how you flew back into him. He saved your life, all while thinking that no one would see him.

But he was wrong, and now Taeyong knew what he needed to do.

———

[The Next Week]

You and Mark hadn’t things official yet, you both were scared for what would happen to your friendship. But that didn’t mean that you didn’t want to kiss him for hours on end.

Mark felt the same way. You had been paired up with someone else at a different table in class. The two of you were now departed and he wasn’t happy about that so he made sure to keep an eye on you.

You finally ate together too. Haechan had his suspicions when he saw the two of you smiling at each other for no reason, but he didn’t say anything.

Then one day, you didn’t show up to class.

Mark texted you the entire night before and even sent you tik toks to laugh at. He knew you were fine and if you were skipping class, you’d definitely let him know. You didn’t respond to the texts he sent during the day.

His spidey senses tingled, he knew something was up.

He called you while at lunch. And to his surprise, you answered.

“Y/n? Where are you?”

There was silence over the line for a brief moment, then you sniffled. “Hey, Mark. I’m home today, I just needed..a break.”

Mark paused. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Mark, I’ll see you later. Please don’t come and look for me.”

“H-“ he started but you had already hung up.

He pursed his lips and looked intensely at his screen. Something was definitely up and he wasn’t going to stop until he found out what it was.

So after his last class, he headed to your house and knocked at the door.

When you didn’t answer, he walked around the house, looking for a way to get in without causing any damage.

He eventually found an open window on the second floor and after looking around to make sure no one was watching, he climbed up the side of the house and entered through it.

He stood up straight and saw that he was in your room, but you weren’t there.

Then he saw what looked to be a body under the blanket on your bed.

“Y/n?”

He quickly lifted the blanket and jumped in horror. It was a slide-sized Spider-Man action figure.

He had a sticky note on his face that pressed “press my belly button.”

Mark pressed the button and heard it speak through its fake mouth.

“Oh, hello, Spider-Man, or should I call you Mark?”

His eyes widened as the male voice spoke.

“Well..it doesn’t really matter..see, I’ve got your lovely girlfriend here with me..”

Mark here’s your muffled screaming in the background.

He grits his teeth.

“And she is here, waiting for you at the very top of the largest building in the city. I know you’re new here, but I’m sure you can find it.”

Mark curses to himself, he was caught with you and by some bastard that he didn’t know. Did Kingpin have his men follow him?

“Oh, and that nice friend of her’s, hmmm Haechan is it? He’s outside her house, but he’s probably all tied up.. don’t be late, Markipoo, we wouldn’t want y/n to hang out with me much longer..”

The recording stops playing. Mark runs out of the house, but stops in his tracks.

He’s too late.

Johnny and Yuta stand beside Haechan’s car. Haechan has JI mouth covered by a piece of fabric but his eyes are open and wet with tears.

He lets out a loud scream when he hears Mark.

They tied him to the hood of the car while the engine runs. He was literally tied up.

“Hey!” Mark calls out and runs towards them, but Johnny places a brick onto the gas pedal and puts the car in drive.

Haechan screams even louder as the car rolls down the hill fast.

Mark runs after it, struggling to keep up as it speeds down the street.

Johnny and Yuta stand back and laugh.

Mark had to find a way to beat, he had to calculate his speed so he could overrun it and stop it. Or he could shoot webs out from the back and pull it towards him.

His mind runs at 100mph as it goes through every possibility while he pants and runs.

“Haechan! Don’t worry! I’ve got you!”

The car is too heavy, and it’s going too fast, so he can’t hold it with his spiderweb material.

He leaps forward and up into the air, landing just a few feet in front of the incoming car.

He puts his hands in front of him and braces for impact. He had never taken on such a huge task before, he prayed that he would be strong enough to take a 4,000 pound car going at 80 miles per hour.

He grunts and presses forward onto the top of the car, causing it to make a loud skrrt sound and a huge dent to form. He uses his legs for stability as he struggles to stop it from going any further.

But he slides downward in his two feet.

“Shit.shit.shit.shit” he murmurs out.

Haechan cries to the heavens for help.

Mark pushes forward even harder while gritting his teeth. He lifts the hood slightly.

With a loud groan and harsh grip, he tears the engine out to stop the car.

The wheels slow to a halt and Mark places the car down.

He stumbles on his feet and nearly passes out, but he had to keep moving, he had to find you.

So he quickly puts his mask on before people come outside of their homes to see what the ruckus is about, then he unties Haechan.

“Oh my God..oh my God, what the hell?!”

Haechan panics and shakes.

“Mark, you’re—you’re..the guy..”

“Haechan, we can talk about this later. What is the tallest building and where can I find it?”

Haechan points in the direction of the tallest building in the town. It’s 1,000 feet high and is owned by none other than Kingpin.

Mark’s eyes narrowed as he clenched his jaw.

He swings through town quickly to get to you.

Once at the building, he decided that it would be faster to climb.

Meanwhile, Taeyong has you tied up and gagged.

Tears stream down your face.

“It’s such a shame things had to be this way..I kinda liked you.” Taeyong strokes your cheek with his thumb.

His phone rings.

“What is it?”

“He should be there soon.”

You hear a man’s voice say on the other line.

Taeyong gives a devilish smile and looks back at you as he hangs up.

“Perfect.” He winks.

He steps forward to you and takes your bound wrists in his hand. He takes your gag off with the other.

“Would you like to beg for your life now?”

“Fuck you, Taeyong! I never did anything to you!”

Taeyong smiles when you curse. “You’re right. All you did was go to class and look pretty...oh and decide to date a superhero. You had to expect us to use you as leverage.”

You shook your head. “Taeyong, you’re not like your father, you’re better than him! Please don’t do this.”

Wind blew your hair back as Taeyong had opened one of the floor-to-ceiling windows on the top floor.

Taeyong’s smile fell when you mentioned his father.

“I know I’m better than him, sweetheart, I get right to the source of my problems.”

He strokes your cheek again. “You know..you’re a lot prettier when you don’t speak, but right now..I want you to scream for me.”

He suddenly pushes you out the window but grabs the end of the rope that has tied your hands up.

You let out a blood curdling scream as you stare down as the tiny people and cars so far below you. You cry even harder.

“Just like that, sweetheart, you sound beautiful.”

He smirks and ties the rope to a pole to keep your body dangling.

“Mark!!” You cry out when you see him in his Spider-Man suit climbing up the building towards you.

“No! Don’t come any closer! It’s a trap!!” You try to stop him but Mark doesn’t stop, you’re right there and he has to get to you.

“The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout..” Taeyong sings to himself as he picks up his father’s machine gun.

He aims it out of the window and at Mark.

“Down came the rain and washed the spider out.”

He pulls back on the trigger, allowing bullets to fly in the direction of the crawling Spider-Man.

“Mark!!” You cry out once again as Mark let’s go with one hand and dangles with the other. He quickly moves from side to side to dodge the bullets.

He regains his position and continues climbing.

“Oh, he’s a stubborn spider.” Taeyong grins and unloads on him again, this time never stopping.

He moves it from side to side to catch him.

A bullet flies right over Mark, breaking his suit and cutting his skin. He curses then looks back up.

He had to pay attention, he had to get to you.

Taeyong goes maniacal with the gun but he just can’t seem to get him.

He stops when he’s out of bullets and Mark is just a few feet away.

You think he’s given up because he’s lost, but Taeyong got just what he wanted.

“Okay, sweetheart..” he unties the rope from the pole and holds it in his hands. “It’s time to fly like the beautiful angel you are.”

You look back at him with wide eyes. “Taeyong!”

He lets go of the rope. You fall out through the window fast and past Mark.

Mark throws his head into your direction and leaps off of the building towards you.

He tries to fly down fast but he can’t keep up with your falling body, he’s so close but he can’t get to you.

You cry and think about your life, you never imagined this would be how you’d die.

You see Mark coming after you with all his strength, you know he’s doing his best. But it was impossible, there’s no way he’d get to you in time.

And so you felt yourself lose consciousness.

Your head fell back and your body fell limply.

“No, no, no, no don’t give up on me!” Mark yells and stretches his arms out, he shoots two strings from his wrists.

They latch onto you, he pulls back as hard as he can, your body flying into his arms as he still falls down the side of the building.

He spins around and shoots another string onto the building. His fall stops abruptly and his body flings itself into the glass. He holds you in his arms to protect you from the shattered glass.

You both fall onto the floor of an office. People jump up and yell in shock.

“Oh my god..it’s Spider-Man.” a few people say with gasps.

But Mark is focused on you. He doesn’t feel the pain from the impact, for his heart breaks for you. He unties your hands and holds one of them in his own.

“Y/n..y/n.. please talk to me..” leans over you and shakes you gently. Your body lies limply. Your mouth is slightly parted and your eyes are still closed. He hears a faint heartbeat.

He starts to tear up when you don’t respond.

“Y/n, I’m sorry..” he lifts his mask off and kisses you on the cheek.

He doesn’t care who sees him and can possibly expose his identity.

“Please..just wake up..tell me you’re okay..” he then kisses you on the lips.

Your eyes flutter open when you feel his soft lips on yours.

You place your hands on the side of his face, the people in the office clap and cheer.

You breathe him in before kissing him back. He pulls away and smiles down at you. His wavy brown hair hangs over your face and his eyes are teary.

“Are you crying, loser?” You give him a small smile.

Mark laughs and kisses you again.

Once you assured him that you were okay, Mark hunted Taeyong down at one of his father’s warehouses. Taeyong, Johnny, and Yuta waited there for him with a gun and several weapons, but they weren’t prepared for Spider-Man’s speed, strength, and agility, especially when all three were amplified by Mark’s anger. He gave them all an ass whooping they’d remember for the rest of their life, then had the cops come to arrest them. Mark didn’t go into much detail, but you knew that Kingpin, disappointed and hurt, disowned Taeyong and left him on his own to deal with his own actions.

When Taeyong tried to tell him who SpiderMan was, Kingpin called him a fool and deemed him mentally unstable, for a scrawny and nerdy kid with Harry Potter glasses couldn’t possibly have been the Spiderman that was kicking their asses.

Everyone thought Taeyong was crazy and Mark was never identified by the people in the office room.

Johnny and Yuta gave Taeyong up and admitted that they didn’t know who Spider-Man was, for if they had gone along with him, they’d only look crazy too.

Taeyong was arrested for attempted murder of both you and Haechan and sentenced to life in prison. He was tried as an adult and without the assistance of his wealthy father, didn’t stand a chance at getting away.

———

[December]

Finals were over and you could finally celebrate with Mark.

You joined him for the Winter Dance while dressed in a long, sleeveless icy blue dress.

“You look beautiful, like a princess.”

Mark blushed as he took your hand and led you to the dance floor.

You smiled and laughed out. He too looked dashingly handsome like a prince in his black suit and a bow tie that matched your dress. His hair was parted to the side and smoothed back, he didn’t have his glasses so he looked older, more mature.

The two of you swayed side to side. You laid your head on his shoulder and drank in the scent of his cologne. He smelled like flowers, his touch felt warm on your bare back.

There were stars decorating the dark gym in order to set the mood. White snowflakes also danced across the ceiling.

“I...have something to ask you..”

His low voice vibrates against your chest.

You raised your head and looked at all of the beauty marks on his neck and jaw. Funny enough, they were in all the places that you wanted to kiss.

“Yeah?”

Your soft voice makes him weak, he wants to hold you like this forever.

“Will you..” he clears his throat and glances down at you nervously. “..be my girlfriend?”

Your face lights up, you smile widely.

“I thought you’d never ask, Potter.” You kiss him on the lips and spend the rest of the night together.

1K notes · View notes

masterhandss · 4 years ago

Note

May I ask, what happens in the short stories included in the Hamefura manga volumes? (e.g. highschool AU, kindergarten AU, genderbend AU, etc.)

Well, okay! I'm not good at summarizing stuff, so sorry in advance! I'm also writing these without rereading the Bonus SS so there may be small inaccuracies in these summaries. Some of these are gonna be longer than others depending on how much of I still remember lmao

I still suggest everyone go buy the manga volumes and give them a read, these extra chapters are so fun it makes me wish the anime fillers are always these wacky and entertaining (in fact I had to put writing this on hold because Season 2 adapted one of these, kinda XDD)

// spoilers for the hamefura manga volume bonus ss/special oneshots

Volume 1 - Untitled

Bakarina wakes up and realizes that she has no control over her body. She is confronted with a familiar scene of Katarina bullying Maria in Fortune Lover, and realizes that she's experiencing it from a first person point of view: through Katarina's eyes. She comments on how cruel Katarina is and explains the different ways she'd treat Maria differently, until Keith and Geordo arrive to save Maria. Bakarina feels unnerved and saddened by the angry and hateful looks that Keith and Geordo are giving her (Well it's Katarina, but Bakarina feels like they are look at her), and nervously wakes up from the dream. It is revealed that the dream took place some time before her arrival at the Magic Academy, and that she vows to work hard not to fall into a Bad End so that she'll never receive such hateful looks and be scorned by the otome game characters who she now considers to be her closest friends.

Volume 2 - Doom Route★Private School

Katarina gets awoken by Anne telling her that she needs to get ready to school. Katarina is surprised to find out that she has a school uniform and that she'll be heading to school in a fancy car. Anne tells Katarina that Keith won't be coming with her because he's already at school. When she gets there, she gets greeted by Keith who is part of the School's Disciplinary Committee. She is also greeted by Geordo, the SC President and his twin brother Alan, the Secretary. Keith's job is to check everyone's uniforms, so he reprimands the twins for their custom uniforms. Geordo tells him that he'll just have the rule changed, and that Keith's uptight attitude is why he doesn't have a girlfriend. This is how Katarina finds out that the engagement between Geordo and her is a verbal agreement between families, so she's technically engaged to him but it's not official.

After meeting up with all her friends, Katarina enters the classroom to find it looking just like her old one in Japan. She finds that she had scribbled doom flag avoidance plans on her desk and notebooks, and realizes that she's still in an otome game. Maria then enters and is introduced as the new scholarship student, and Katarina runs out to read her notebook. Everything is the same, from capture targets to rival characters , except the setting is a modern. Katarina finds out that her bad ends only lead to her getting either expelled and transferred or getting a restraining order. Katarina becomes confident in befriending Maria, and enthusiastically plans to enjoy her new life in a modern school. The chapter ends with Katarina buying lots of melon bread from the cafeteria, and wakes up form the dream before she could eat it.

Volume 3 - My Next Life in a Fantasy RPG

Katarina is awaken by Miri, who tells her that she is late and that she needs to eat breakfast. Katarina dresses up and realizes that her clothes looks like a cute outfit form an RPG. After being greeted by her father and being given a simple japanese breakfast (which made a bit emotional), Miri scolds her and tells her to hurry since she and Keith needs to check up on a few things before they leave. When Katarina asks where they are going, Luigi tells her that she and Keith are headed on a journey to become heroes and defeat the demon lord. She is told that they are the two chosen from the village as representatives. Katarina, being confused about being in an RPG-like world instead of an otome-line one, realizes that she is in a dream and is excited to play a heroine role in the fight against the monsters. Katarina is awoken by Keith during their carriage ride, and told that they were at the castle. Despite being representatives of their village, they still need to be selected as a true hero. She asks on how they were selected as the representative, and Keith tells her that it's done by lottery. Katarina admires the RPG-style outfits of everyone in the crowd, before the high priest arrives and announces the details of the selection.

Everyone is divided into small groups and left to face monsters in order to assess their abilities. Katarina, who has never fought before, is scared of the task because she's never fought monster before. Unlike Keith who looked like a knight, her weapon is a hoe. She asks the officiate beside her if she can just eliminate herself and watch from the side, to which Keith sighs in disbeliefs and the man giggles at the confession. As the officiate yelled at the sight of a world, everyone got ready for battle. While Katarina admired the fight from afar, she realized that something else was growling besides the wolf. Timeskip to hours later, Katarina was selected as a hero with the title of "Monster Tamer", and the officiate reveals himself to be Prince Geordo and asks to be a part of her party. As Katarina and her party march on to face the demon king, they encounter a witch, who reveals herself to be Miri with a book of manners. Katarina then wakes up from the dream.

Volume 4 - Dreamland Genderbender

Katarina wakes up to the sight of a male butler waking her up to tell her that she is late for school. When she asks him who he is, he says that he is Anne, Katarina's faithful butler. Katarina realizes that Anne is a man, and that she isn't a she, but a HE! Katarina freaks out at the fact that he is a man and realizes that there is something on his waist that definitely shouldn't be there. Before Katarina could ponder about it for too long, Anne helps him prepare for school. He gets greeted by Keith, and he becomes overwhelmed by how cute (and yet somehow very Keith-looking) she was. When they got to the Academy, Katarina is greeted by Geordo and Alan, who are princesses instead of princes. Due to the fact that everyone's names were still the same despite being gender-switched, she realizes she's in a dream and plays along. Mary greets Katarina good morning, and Katarina notes how gentlemanly and dashing he looked. Katarina was then greeted by Nicol, whose smile was so lovely it made everyone blush. As she pondered on whether the female Nicol was more charming than her male counterpart, Sophia greets Katarina.

On their way to class, Katarina looks into a window and feels bad about how mostly the same he looked despite being a boy. Geordo clings onto his right arm as she tries to lead him to class (emphasizing her chest while doing so, which Katarina notes as being possibly bigger than Mary's), while Keith takes the other arm and gets angry at the princess for her behavior. Katarina is overwhelmed by Keith's adorable height, and lets go of both of them to hug her. Geordo takes a hold of Katarina, vocalizing his jealousy over his touchy-ness with Keith and demands the same treatment because they are engaged and because she is much more attractive than Keith. The argument between Geordo and Keith becomes heated, discussing whether or not a huge chest is much more attractive in a woman. Alan doesn't want to be a part of it, and Nicol stops their discussion as it is embarrassing to hear for the other students. Katarina doesn't know how to react since she is a boy in this situation. When they get to the classroom, they are greeted by Maria, which prompts Katarina to contemplate on what the differences are in the world now that they all swapped genders. When they get to student council room, Katarina compliments Raphael on how small and adorable she looks, bringing back the heated discussion between the girls about chest sizes. Katarina shouts that he has no preference, and then wakes up from the dream.

Volume 5 - Doom Route Kindergarten

Anne introduces herself as a daycare worker at Doom Route Kindergarten, and awaits the arrival of the students. First car arrives with Geordo and Alan, children from a well-off family. Anne is asked to take care of the two, who she nicknames "Sebastian the Butler". Anne notes on how well mannered the two are, and how they are apparently children of a government figure. Next car arrives with Mary, who is a the very feminine fashionista among the children, who loves flowers and fashion. Next car arrives with Nicol and Sophia, who were admired by the staff because their loving parents drop and pick them up from school themselves. Nicol is rumored to be a future seducer by the staff, and Anne notes on how they used to never interact with other children until recently. Next comes a woman on a bike, revealing herself to be Maria's mother who is there to drop Maria off. Despite being the daughter of a normal company employee, Maria was able to enroll into a private kindergarten through a scholarship due to her talent in baking despite her young age. Maria used to have a hard time adjusting to being a school for rich kids, but she had become more enthusiastic about school more recently.

When Maria asked Anne if Katarina will like the treats she made, on cue, another car arrives. Miri angrily drags a half asleep Katarina out of the car, reprimanding her for napping as soon as she finished eating breakfast. Miri apologizes for her daughters rudeness, and Anne replies that she's used to it. Anne tries to wake up Katarina by telling her that Maria made treats for her, which works and jolts Katarina awake. Katarina constantly clings onto Anne and asks her to play with her, while the other children tries to get Katarina to play with them instead. Anne notes how happy she is that Katarina likes her so much, even if she gets glared at by the children as a result. After receiving so much offers of different activities to do, Katarina settles on challenging Alan, which everyone follows them to. Anne runs after them telling them not to climb any trees again. After that, Katarina wakes up from the dream.

Volume 6 - Magical★Girl Flag Breakers

I already made an attempt to translate this chapter, since Manga Volume 6 has yet to come out in english, so I suggest reading it! I'll still summarize it though I guess

Katarina is on her way to school, running with a cucumber in her mouth, until she accidentally bumps into what looks like a small doll. The doll talks back to her, making her realize that it is sentient. Katarina and the doll, who reveals himself to be Raphael the Spirit, have a quick banter that escalates into a discussions about the nature of spirits and the danger that the planet will soon face. As Raphael finishes his explanation, monsters summoned by the evil organization began to attack in a nearby park. Katarina and Raphael checks it, and finds a giant stuffed bear rampaging. Katarina attempts to flee, but Raphael asks her to help him. In a panic, Katarina says yes, and the two form a contract. Katarina transforms into a magical girl and attempts to fight the monster. Despite being confused, she was able to win, and thus beginning her journey as a magical girl.

Timeskip to a few weeks/months later, Katarina mentions that she had found more magical girls among students in her school which includes Mary from the Gardening Club, Sophia from the Literature Club and Maria from the Student Council. The three were recruited by a spirit named Anne. The four are close friends who walk together to school. During one of their walks, they are interrupted by Geordo, one of the Four Kings of Ruin who are part of the Evil Organization. Mary, Sophia and Maria get angry at him for ruining the moment between the girls, and Geordo calls upon his allies in order to be alone with Katarina. From the sky descends the other members of the Four Kings: Alan, Keith and Nicol. Rather than being excited for battle, the three instead berated Geordo for calling them during their free time. Geordo asks them to fight off the other three girls so that he can be alone with Katarina, but instead they interact with Katarina whom they have already met prior. In the end, Geordo is arguing with Mary and Sophia, Alan and Keith are flushed in the corner at the sight of Katarina, and Nicol and Maria are sharing food (since he dropped his pasta after being summoned by Geordo). Katarina wonders if she really is a magical girl since they haven't actually been fighting whenever they encounter each other, and then wakes up from the dream.

Rereading this now, I may have made these summaries a little too long... I hope this doesn't discourage anyone from reading the Bonus SS yourselves!! Please read them, they are so funny and good!!

Detective Katarina's Office isn't available yet, I might edit this post when that drops.

Thank you for the ask (help my fingers hurt from typing jshdfg)

#mh ask #hamefura #my next life as a villainess #bakarina #destruction flag otome #long post #katarina claes #keith claes #geordo stuart #alan stuart #mary hunt #maria campell #sophia ascart #nicol ascart #anne shelley #raphael wolt

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jangofctts · 5 years ago

Text

Are You in Or Out?

Rated: Explicit

Word count: 11.5K yall I am SORRY

Warnings: good lord y'all here we GO-- smut, explicit language, violence and mentions of blood and gore, injuries, unprotected sex (don't be a dick, wrap that stick!), oral (m&f receiving), blindfolding, vaginal and anal fingering, vaginal and anal sex, double penetration, spit is used as lube but for the love of GOD doNT DO THAT, there are some dom vibes on Paz’s end

Summary: The job you’re on takes a turn for the worst--Paz comes to your rescue and you're brought to the Covert. There you meet Din Djarin. though during a good natured sparring session, you’re suddenly stuck between an age old rivalry that spirals out of hand. Hopefully an agreement can be met.

a/n: hey...how y’all doin....SO lemme explain you smthn. I said helmets must be OfF--giv me them LIPS BABEY so this is a slight AU in which mandos can see other mandos’ faces. ya get me? I also tHot that it would be nice and fun to set the timeline 5-6 years BEFORE the plot of the Mandalorian so we gots a younger din here. anyway, as always enjoy and I hope you like!!

Mistakes, mistakes, mistakes—

Some as little as burning your finger on the nozzle of a smoking blaster or tripping over your own shoelaces. Simple things. Mindless things.

Nothing that could ever compare to the catastrophic decision of picking up bounty hunting as a reliable source of income.

The little ones were easy—tax evaders and deserters of the Empire—most who’d yield and gladly follow without complaint just at the sight of your blaster pointed between their eyes. And the gag of it is—most of the time you never bothered to load the damn thing.

Reckless.

An invitation for disaster.

But skirting that precarious edge, one little slip up away from plunging head first into inevitable trouble is better than Bracca. Stars—anything is better than Bracca. There’s no glory in bounty hunting but there’s even less in ship scrapping. Abysmal pay in exchange for risking your life on rain slicked metal with only the Ibdis Maw to break your fall.

The guild you work for is considerate—scratch that. Greef Karga is considerate. Sure the flirting is a touch unbearable but it saves your ass in the long run. All easy money bounties set aside for you in exchange for a cheap drink, hollow laughs and sugar sweet smiles.

It’s enough credits to get by—more than plenty to rent a room and charter a ship.

But there’s only so many bounties to capture within the limits of the guild and oh so many people the empty blaster trick works on. And so the credits begin to thin; it gets too expensive to buy off a pilot and the debate over buying food or being able to pay for your room becomes more frequent than the scraprats that skitter inside the walls.

It’s suicide to snag a higher paying bounty because....well—these bounties shoot back.

Whatever.

Might as well die trying. Who knows, maybe you could score big time if you manage to pull this off.

Maybe.

-=-=-=-

You’re not sure who’s more surprised—Karga when you asked for the bounty or yourself when he actually gave it to you.

“Are you sure, kid? This could—“

“End in a fiery shitshow? Yeah—I figured that,” you sigh, swirling your drink with a little complimentary toothpick. “But I need the money.”

“Hah! You’ve got guts, girl.” He flashes you a smile and smooths down his mustache with his thumb and forefinger. “Tell you what. The last assignment was just taken but I’m sure if you run you could catch him. Work somethin’ out.”

Jumping from your seat, you throw on your coat and toss a couple credits onto the table to cover the drink. “What’s he look like?”

“Big fellow—Mandalorian. You’ll know when you see him.”

You shout your thanks over your shoulder and hightail outta there. The landing docks aren’t far, you can see them from here. It’s finding the guy that could pose a problem.

If he hasn’t already left, you bitterly think.

However, it seems the universe is on your side today. Karga was right. He is big. Stands out like a sore thumb against his ship that glitters dully in the overcast sky. Kinda like an oversized blueberry. A yellow and blue blueberry….not important—

“Hey! Hey, you!” You’re so close, just a couple yards away. You swear and hurry up your pace as he steps onto the loading ramp. “Big guy! Large...blue man?”

You trip over your own feet as he turns his head. Fuck—

No way are you gonna be able to bargain with this guy. Built like a fucking AT-AT and probably just as stubborn. After all, no one would ever be dumb enough to come between a Mandalorian and their quarry. You grimace, and suck in a breath—

Before a word even leaves your mouth he interrupts with a steady, unwavering;

“No.”

Your brows furrow. “I didn’t even say anything!”

“I know what you were going to ask,” he huffs, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I work alone.”

Ok, then. You didn’t want to resort to begging, but you’re kinda running out of options here. You take a steadying breath and plant yourself at the bottom of the ramp. “C’mon man. Look—I’ll let you take seventy percent of the cut and I can—“

“You’ll let me?” He repeats, the staticky tone of his voice dropping into an edge more cutting than broken transparisteel. The metal platting on the ramp vibrates from the weight of his step to move closer; Stars it takes every fucking inch of willpower to hold your ground. “You’re lucky if I let you leave with your life. Get lost.”

Fuckfuckfuck—you should listen. You wanna fucking run for the hills and never look back in case he comes looking to purge your name from the kriffing galaxy. You clench your jaw and steel your nerves. Too bad—you’ve dug your heels so far into this empire of dirt and false bravado that your only way out is continuing to poke the sleeping bear until he snaps your spine or caves.

You have to crane your neck to glare into that dark strip of his vizor, seeing as he’s invited himself into your personal space. “No.”

“No?” He mocks, now toe to toe with your scuffed up boots.

Your teeth clench, a scalding flush burning through your cheeks and all the way down to your chest. He’s toying with you—finding amusement in your stubbornness and apparent lack of braincells for challenging him. “You don’t scare me.”

The man hums, a deep purr that rumbles through his entire ribcage as he raises his gloved hand. You curse yourself for flinching because surely he’s about to crush your skull like a fucking grape, but no. All he does is fix your rumbled collar then pat your cheek.

“I don’t need the extra baggage.”

“I’m not baggage,” you sneer, slapping his hand away. “I can handle myself.”

“With an empty blaster?” He points out, tipping his head to the side. “Your parlor tricks won’t do you any good on this job.”

“I’m a good shot!” You sputter, placing your hands over you hips and mustering up your best glare. “W-when I have ammo…”

“Right.”

Meeting Paz Vizsla, could have gone far better, to put it into the most simplest of words. Jagged and hard to settle into a routine around each other for the journey to Nar Shaddaa in a tiny, old, and cramped freighter ship. Most cycles you have to wedge yourself beside a cargo crate to sleep. In addition to that, how it’s able to break through the atmosphere let alone fly is beyond you—an entire mystery on its own.

At least you’re able to sit in the spare seat inside the cockpit—one of the only places available to stretch your legs. The only problem is that it’s also where Paz Vizsla likes to lurk (well, not lurk—it’s his ship and it’s where he can comfortably fit but—to each their own).

There’s a net of tension still woven between you—each interaction like tiptoeing over eggshells. Though, like all things, it becomes simpler. There’s not exactly any ongoing conversations—you don’t want to pry into a life you know nothing about—it’s not your business despite the cumulation of questions that linger in the back of your mind. You know when to take a hint—not every person is willing to indulge you about their livelihood, and surely not something as secretive and well guarded as the Mandalore.

Familiarity is what you want to call it. Comfortable with each other’s presence with small talk speckled in throughout the never-ending vastness of hyperspace. Compared to the infinite turmoil in your life, slippery footholds and uncertainty—Paz Vizsla is steady. In a way— predictable and safe in the confines of this ship.

You’d even go as far as to label him kind, a friend maybe—if you look past the grumpiness and rather poor taste in corny jokes. You know it’s stupid, no doubt stemming from the deep ache of loneliness that comes hand in hand with staking it out on your own in the galaxy; but you can’t help but wish that this could be a new normal. Not some once in a lifetime thing where you both part ways, fade into the recesses of memory and leave it at that.

If things go well—and rarely do they on a job—maybe you’d pluck up enough courage to ask him if you could stay. There’s no harm in it…right?

-=-=-=-

Well—the cynical part of you was right.

It did end up in a fiery shit show.

Turns out the stupid quarry you’d been tracking excelled in long range weaponry. A former marksman for the Empire to be exact. Guess that tidbit of information wasn’t pertinent. A need to know sorta thing, if you will.

You feel the molten bolt of plasma connect with your side before your ears pick up the sound of a weapon firing, like a crack of lighting in the empty alleyway. And before your body even connects with the duracrete, Paz is returning fire. A brilliant neon red against the hazy blur of shadowy buildings.

Kinda weird how knocking the back of your head hurts worse than the literal blaster wound burned into your side. Shock maybe. Or the heat from the plasma cauterized each veins and artery it tore through and ate away at flesh and nerves. Hm…

You’re sprawled in a wet pool of something—either your own blood or a puddle of stagnant gutter water and damn—you’re wearing your favorite shirt.

It doesn’t matter at this point…

You’re choking on your own air from the big ass hole blasted into your diaphragm, so to say things are looking grim is an understatement.

Nar Shaddaa isn’t your first choice to kick the can on, but hey—not everyone gets the luxury of dying on Naboo. And just as you’re ready to slip away into that sweet, sweet abyss, it seems your fellow armored friend has other plans.

The beskar is freezing against your cheek after he deadlifts you off the duracrete—you remember that plain as day. That and the hushed rumble of Paz’s voice insisting you save your dwindling supply of air instead of apologizing to him—or ordering you to stay alive for kriff’s sake. It’s impossible to argue with Paz—like trying to bite through durasteel, and while those beckoning tendrils of eternal slumber are mighty tempting, you cling to your life with all the strength you have left. After all, inconveniencing someone with a corpse is such a party foul to the highest degree.

The rest is muddled—like dredging up silt and clay in a murky river that just leaves you with a pounding headache between your eyes. It’s a terrible mess of pain and bouts of temporary consciousness, mistaken with fever dreams and yup—more pain. The only consistent is Paz—hovering nearby or settled beside you—through thick and thin as you heal.

There’s no solid reason your brain can conjure as to why he brought you to the Covert—it’d have been easier to just dump you at the nearest hospital and be done with it. You’re not his responsibility and you’re too afraid to ask what it means. Too many possibilities—too many answers you aren’t in the mood to face or untwist.

And so you leave it be, set aside for another time—which brings you to the present day…

You’re splayed over your little makeshift cot, feet propped up on a spare pillow as you scour through a cheesy Coruscanti gossip magazine. It’s years old—the only piece of entertainment you could find other than a weapon in the Covert. And seeing as a massive hole had been blasted through your ribcage, picking up the clever art of throwing vibroblades or shooting targets to pass the time was out of the question.

Even if you’d rather fall into a Sarlaac pit than stare at the wall for hours on end yet again—it hasn’t been all that bad. It’d taken weeks before you regained enough strength to sit up on your own, let alone walk—and walking is putting it lightly. It was more of a stiff legged shuffle better suited on a two hundred year old woman seconds from disintegrating into dust at the mere hint of a breeze.

Not to mention—your right lung was all but shredded. Ripped apart from the plasma bolt and miraculously reconstructed by a more than questionable bacta tank, hopeful thoughts and well wishes. To this very day you still sound like a broken air filter.

Eh.

Could be worse.

At least you aren’t dead.

Just another setback that adds on the growing pile of reasons why never to leave the Covert. Free food, free board and mild entertainment to top it off. Paz had stayed at your bedside for the most part while you recovered—stuck with babysitting your sorry ass until you regained a bit of mobility. The times Paz hadn’t been at your side to stave off the boredom, it was up to you to find your own fun.

Snooping is what Paz had labeled it—but you saw it more as an adventure. You met Din Djarin exploring (lost is what you actually were) in the dimly lit underbelly of Nevarro, after all. Yes, you may have scared the ever loving shit out of the poor guy and yes, he may have singed off your brows with a five foot jet of fucking fire—but hey. No one got hurt.

And you made a new friend. Sorta…Din is difficult to read, subtler in his soft spoken words and quiet demeanor. A bit like a skittish loth-cat at the start, but nowadays it’s not uncommon to find him lounging in the same space as you or hovering over your shoulder, awfully curious in whatever it is you choose to do. Like Paz, Din isn’t overly fond of sharing much information about himself but he never complains after you regale tales of your own vastly fascinating past. He seems interested enough—tilts his head a tick to the right when you speak to indicate that yes, he’s listening despite the unforgiving dark line of his visor.

There are others in the Covert too—some so elusive you have a hard time believing they exist. Shadows of what they once were before the rise of the Empire. And so, you count yourself lucky that you’d been introduced to two others—Aeris Fenn, a young man nearly as tall as a Wookie, and a woman named Ives Arrey; her armor a flashy green—damn near florescent in the light.

They’re nice enough company. Aeris is a chatterbox, his wit sharper than a blade but lacking in any forethought before he speaks. Ives is the far opposite—rolls each sentence in her mouth before she voices it, but in no way is she angelic. Maker—you’d bet your entire left asscheek she’s behind each bad decision and silly shenanigans Aeris sticks his nose into. He never learns—not after a harsh chiding or cuff around the helmet from Paz or the Armorer could dampen is childlike enthusiasm or steer him away from repeating the same mistake over and over.

Though if you read one more kriffing sentence of this garbage magazine you’re about to invite chaos himself to entertain you. Good thing too because just as you sit up to find the red armored Mandalorian—Paz rounds the corner and steps into your little broom closet that hardly passes for a room.

“Paz!” You greet, tossing the magazine over your shoulder. “Please tell me we’ll be doing something interesting or else I might start ripping my hair out. Or maybe commit a heinous crime—haven't decided yet.”

Paz grunts and shakes his head. “You’ll be doing neither. But today we’ll be sparing—hopefully that will curve your boredom.”

You scrunch up your face. “Sparring? Er, no thanks—I choose life.”

“You breathe funny since your injury,” he says, jabbing a finger between your ribs. “And all you’ve been doing lately is laying around.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you sneer, tucking your arms over your chest. “Didn’t realize I was supposed to be running laps with half a lung.”

“It’s like stretching a muscle, you need to gain your strength back.” He retorts. “This will be good for you.”

You groan and flop back into bed. “I don’t wanna. I was pretty much dead like three cycles ago—cut me some slack, man.”

There’s a brief silence as if he’s mulling over your words, but he’s stubborn. You crane your head to look at him as he says your name with a deep sigh attached to it.

“Truthfully, I’m surprised you’ve survived this long.” He says it quietly, fragile even, like he’s still expecting you to tip over and die on the spot. You very well might.

You huff. “Wow. Thanks, Paz.”

You feel his heavy stare through the helmet. “What happened to you that night was a mistake. It wasn’t preventable but the least I can do is teach you basic selfdefense.”

You gripe out your complaints but you know you’ve been beat—and well, a bit of your agreement is based on guilt.

Damn it.

-=-=-=-

It’s weird to see Paz without his heavy duty gear—like seeing him naked or a crab without a shell. The only piece he continues to wear is his helmet and padded gloves and under clothes, but it’s still weird. Strange enough that it shocks you tongue into remaining still instead of bitching about this.

He leads you to a wing of the Covert you’ve yet to discover and ushers you through the doorway. The floor is padded, a bit smaller than you expected and already occupied by none other than Aeris Fenn.

It’s a whole other kriffing shock to the head seeing him without the plates and layers of fabric and beskar too. The armor makes him bulkier—fuller and much more intimidating. Now, with only his black underclothes on, Aeris could be the spitting image of a sentient tree. Willowy limbs that stick out like branches as he stretches on the padded mat. He lazily swings his head around as you greet him, his face still covered by the black beskar painted with streaks of red.

“So you choose sparring over knife throwing?” Aeris snorts. “And to think I thought of you as a friend.”

“You think I chose to be here?” You say, grumpy and still upset at the choice of activity. Really, a brisk walk around the Covert would’ve been fine.

Aeris shrugs. “Ah, and I see you’ve roped in my favorite vod. Tch, he uses his fists instead of his words to teach. I wish you luck—you’ll need it.”

You open your mouth to retort but Paz beats you to it.

“Leave.”

“I’ve just arrived, actually,” Aeris scoffs, folding his torso over his other leg to stretch. “Perhaps you could reschedule. After all—our guest is quite free most days.”

Welp—you’re perfectly fine with that. Problem solved.

You spin on your heel and make a break for it but Paz snatches your wrist and pulls you back to his side. “Aeris.”

“Paz,” Aeris mocks, tipping his helmet to the side.

Paz exhales, a long, tired sound and grovels out another plea in clipped Mando’a. Aeris languidly stands and brushes off imaginary dust from the front of his pants. “Sorry, what was that? I don’t understand your accent.”

“Boy—“

“No, no, it’s alright.” Aeris sighs, waving his hand in a mopey display as if he were told that his birthday party were canceled for the fifth year in a row. “I’d have trouble speaking too if my enormously thick head were cooped up in that little bucket of yours all day.”

You wince.

In the time you’ve known Paz Vizsla, he’s never been one to launch into rash decisions fueled by anger—he lets it simmer and build like an oncoming storm over the ocean. Devastating once it reaches land.

Aeris bobs his head and inspects his black leather glove, picking at a loose thread on the inseam over the thumb. He clicks his tongue. “Or'dinii—you’re going to kill her.”

Your offended scoff is ignored as Paz steps forward; jutting his chin up to even out the few inches Aeris holds over the man. “You still haven’t learned to shut your mouth, boy.”

The tension surges and crackles like a volt of electricity through the air—unresolved and ready to ignite with the sparking embers of Paz’s growing irritation. It’s not a fight Aeris Fenn will win. He’s volatile and hotheaded—but his expertise is in long range weaponry. Precise, deadly and swift—not whatever this little pissing match is heading towards.

Aeris clicks his tongue as Paz digs a fist into the black fabric of his shirt. Paz yanks him forward, the metallic clink of their helmets colliding an unpleasant scrape that pierces your eardrums. Aeris snarls out sharpened words in Mando’a as his willowy fingers shoot up to curl beneath the lip of Paz’s helmet.

In the blink of an eye, Paz lifts Aeris up by his collar and launches him across the room like he weighs nothing more than a couple of down pillows. His helmet meets the wall with a resounding clank, chipping some of the red paint outlining the visor. Ouch.

Like a kicked dog, Aeris clambers to his feet, still dazed and swaying and for a fearful second you think he’ll retaliate. But with whatever braincells he happens to possess today—he instead spits out a venomous curse that even yourself would hesitate to repeat. He leaves without another word, bristling with rage.

Your flash Paz a questioning stare. “The hell was that about?”

Paz waves it away with an irritated grunt. “His heart is in the right place but he is young. Aeris doesn’t understand his place in the Covert yet and I doubt he will for years to come.”

You frown. “Poor guy…”

Paz mutters something under his breath. “Enough distractions. We’ve wasted enough time already.”

“Y’know…I think that’s enough excitement for today. I think I’ll be going now—“ Your last ditch attempt at weaseling out of this is quickly thwarted the moment you turn your back.

You wheeze as the heel of Paz’s palm shoves into your shoulder blade, the force of it sending you stumbling to the ground. “Paz—“

“Go on. Hit me,” he orders. You squeak, narrowly avoiding the well aimed kick that skims the top of your scalp.

You scramble to your feet, skirting out of range of the oncoming right hook. “So you attack me instead?”

“How do you expect to catch quarries who are bigger than you?” He presses. You hiss as the points of his knuckles dig into the meat of your shoulder.

You dance out of reach and rub your arm, a dull throb flaring up in the muscle. “I dunno—electrocute them?”

“Not if they take you by surprise.”

You screech as his knuckles skim your cheek. Adrenaline pierces you veins and you wildly throw a flaky punch that wouldn’t even impress a toddler. He catches your fist with ease, his entire hand dwarfing your clenched fingers. “You can do better than that.”

You snarl and struggle to rip your hand back. “I’m a scrapper. I don’t fight.”

“No,” he retorts. You fall onto your ass as he abruptly lets go of your hand. “You’re a bounty hunter.”

You roll your eyes. “Hardly—why can’t I just stay here?”

Although there’s nothing to see with that swatch of black covering his eyes, you can certainly feel the look he’s giving you. A deep sigh hisses through the vocoder. “You can stay here—“

A triumphant smile splits across your face—

“—but not without contributing where it’s due.”

You puff up your cheeks and let out a dismayed stream of air. “Booo—lame.”

He sighs again and helps you off the floor. “Even if you leave the Guild, what I’m teaching you is helpful.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say. “I’ll give you a call after I use your invaluable skills to beat up some thug.”

Paz ignores your comment and turns on his heel. “Let’s go through it again. This time use your front two knuckles instead of your whole fist.”

As your eyes land over the stretch of tight fighting fabric over his back an idea pops into your head. It’s a petty move but getting a punch in is fruitless—like trying to beat up a brick wall. You don’t fancy a broken hand and your knuckles are already bruised and swollen to the point where it’s hard to bend them.

And so, without any forethought and with a running head start, you launch yourself onto him, your arms coiling around his neck. It does the job—takes him by surprise and makes him tip to the right.

Aha! Yes!

Your reign of victory is short lived, however—

He latches onto your forearms strung around his neck and yanks. And much in the same way he threw Aeris like a sack of potatoes—you’re no different. For a short stretch of time that feels kriffing endless; you soar through the air, your directional whereabouts violently ripped out beneath you and equally nauseating in the same breath.

Why you ever agreed to this—you don’t know.

Your shoulder blade connects with the mat first, leaving behind a dull sting as you roll and tumble with uncontrollable momentum. Oh, yeah—you’ll feel that in the morning.

Groaning, you thank the Maker that your body eventually settles into a miserable little pile of limbs and pain. But, it seems whatever higher power that lingers in the edges of the galaxy hasn’t decided to put you out of your misery just yet.

A bulky shadow blocks out the dim lighting overhead, and for a brief anxiety ridden moment you’re afraid it’s Paz. You roll onto your back with a pathetic groan, a beg for mercy on the tip of your tongue—but as your eyes flutter open they’re met with an entirely different man.

Din Djarin looms over you, his head cocked to the side as you blink in dumbfounded bewilderment. Ah, hell—

You swallow, a furious heat bitting at your cheeks. “Uh…fine weather we’re having…”

“We’re inside,” he states with a brief glance up to the ceiling.

You purse your lips. “Huh.”

With a pensive hum he offers his hand, you sigh and roll over, accepting his gloved hand. He hoists you up easily and adjusts your rumpled collar. “You ok?”

“Pfft, yeah,” you groan, rubbing your throbbing shoulder. “Never better.”

The low grumble of your name is a cross between disbelief and irritation. Din jerks his head, his attention zeroing in on Paz. “Are you trying to kill her?”

“She isn’t made of glass.”

“She is still recovering—“

Normally you’d intervene, but their bickering is tiring and it gives you the excuse to lie down. By the time one of them caves you’ve counted exactly one hundred and twelve weird ceiling stains. They should get that checked out.

“Very well,” Paz snarls, cutting through your wandering thoughts. “You teach her.”

Din scoffs, his shoulders drawn tight as he stomps over to your splayed out self. “Get up.”

“Geez, fine,” you grumble, not in the mood to test his patience further. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Later he’ll no doubt apologize but right now? He has to prove a point. Din cuts right to it, moves in close to place your clenched fists in the right stance and nudges at your feet until they’re a bit wider than hip distance.

“You have to get in close with a bigger opponent,” he says, stepping into your space until your fists are close enough to touch his chest. “We don’t have much range here—easier to break our guard too.”

“Right. And how would you suggest I do that?”

“You’re always beating me at cards.” Din says, tipping his head to the side. “You have a clever mind. Use it.”

“But I always cheat.” You point out, dropping your guard to swat at a stray hair.

He catches your wrists and returns them to where they ought to be. “Quick enough to get away with it.”

You make a noise of uncertainty but do as you're told. Din takes a couple steps back and with a rough order you begin.

He’s faster than Paz—bats at your guard in quick bursts and steps away when you attempt to hit back. It’s a dance almost—somehow elegant in its brutality of bruises and flashes of pain as you move around one another. Compared to Din, Paz is almost clumsy but unpredictable. Din—despite the rapidness of his attacks and evasiveness, becomes predictable.

He steps to to left—you follow. He rocks onto his toes to jab his fist forward and that’s where you find a break. Punching Din’s helmet won’t do you any good but catching the juncture of his shoulder with your elbow is completely feasible. Too bad that you’re not the only one with a clever mind.

Din uses the momentum of your attack to catapult you to the ground—his own body rolling with you in order to capture you in a headlock of sorts. This sucks. After this you’ll never be setting foot in this Maker forsaken room again.

Din tightens his elbow that’s looped around your throat as you squirm and flail, trapped against his chest. He grunts as your elbow digs into his ribs but holds steady and snakes his free arm across your front, pinning your limbs to your body in an unbreakable vice. All mobility is cut off as his knee pushes between your thighs, locking your leg out into an uncomfortable and frankly quite awkward angle.

Inhaling a shaky breath, you arch as the crown of his helmet skims along the curve of your throat; the bite of beskar frigid and startling against your flushed skin. You can see his visor out of the corner of your eye; glittering and dark like the polished obsidian on Black Spire and endless like the greedy maw of a black hole.

Your breath hitches as he shifts and curls his head closer to your ear. His voice rumbles low and deep through his chest and vibrates against the delicate cartilage. “Yield.”

However much your pride wrestles with the sensible part of your brain, it’s all for naught as you jerk your head in defeat.

In retrospect you should’ve said something—used your voice or made some kinda sound because suddenly Din’s forearm digs alarmingly hard into your windpipe. He read the stuttered jerk of your head as another pitiful act of defiance but no. Nope.

Here you are—asphyxiating.

Not exactly what you had in mind, being strangled by a Mandalorian and all—but a chokehold where you could very well die was not it.

Fuzzy darkness begins to shade the corners of your vision, lightheadedness and a curious warmth that prickles down your spine settling low in your belly. A raspy gasp manages to slip through your blocked off airway, and stars why does this feel good?

“Din—”

Paz’s sharp bark is distant above the ringing in your ears and it all stops.

You gulp in air that burns your throat like refined fire whiskey—hunched over the mat as a large palm rubs soothing circles over your upper back. You cough and roll over, sounding like a dying animal run over by a speeder then hit with a spiked club to polish it off.

You’re quickly herded into Paz’s arms and pulled into his lap. Still wheezing and attempting to recover lost oxygen, whatever Din is trying to say translates into an indiscernible hum against the ringing in your ears.

“I’m fine,” you mutter, though neither of them care to listen. Like bristling wolves, snapping at each other’s heels.

“Apologize to her,” there’s not so much as a centimeter of room to argue. “Now.”

It’s nice of Paz you suppose—defending your honor and what not, but you’re not a vengeful person. It was an honest mistake and you want to explain that so Din quits looking like a kicked puppy, yet the sudden touch over your ankle stops you. All the times Din has initiated contact it’d been a friendly pat to your shoulder or ruffling you hair, and while touching your ankle isn’t exactly scandalous it’s certainly an odd place to put your hand on.

Your fingers clutch Paz’s shirt as you eye the man lingering at the bottom of your feet, his gloved thumb unconsciously rubbing patterns into the exposed skin between your boot and your pant leg. “Cyare—I’m sorry.”

You blink and lick your lips. Interesting. “I-I don’t know what that word means.”

His hand inches higher, resting on the swell of your calf. “Sweetheart…darling…loved one—“

There’s a shift—a dark undercurrent that none of you should be dipping your toes into. There’s a million and one things to say or do to sever this at the root, but are you going to? Nah.

Din’s thumb now rests over your knee, goosebumps following in his wake. “Should I keep going?”

It too hot—stuffy with both of their heavy stares locked on your flushed face. You squirm and glance up at Paz who only offers an impassive stare. Great.

“I can make it up to you,” Din continues, his hand stationary—a warm weight even through the fabric of your pants. “If you let me.”

Your mouth feels drier than the desert on Jakku. This…nothing good could come out of what Din is hinting at. This is uncharted territory—launching yourself into the great unknown without any idea of what’ll fester and grow if you agree.

It’s not like it hasn’t crossed your mind—it’s just…it’s never been both of them at the same time. These men are short-tempered, an open flame to jet fuel with deeply seated ire woven into the very fabric of their beings. You’ve barely scratched the surface on the inner workings of their mutual hostility, but you’re bright enough to question if this will make it worse. Tinder and brittle twigs feeding and enabling the hungry flames of rivalry to spiral and consume with chaotic brilliance of a dying star—

But, oh—

Isn’t it worth taking the risk?

You suck in a grounding breath and slowly extend your leg that Din touches, gingerly skimming the toe of your shoe along the inseam of his inner thigh. “H-how would you…make it up to me?”

Din preens at your answer and shuffles closer, lifting your legs so that they rest in his lap. Devotion drips off his words like a fine liquor as he toys with the laces on your boots. “Anything—say it and it’s yours.”

Sparks of molten heat race down your spine and metastasize in your lower belly, spreading through each vein and artery like a some sort of invasive ivy. You spare a look up at Paz as he shifts.

“Go ahead, girl,” Paz assures. “Answer him.”

It’s an unspoken, buzzing sort of thing like the static air before a storm, crackling and surging with pent up energy. You all know the implications of what’s to come—but it’s your words, quiet and steady that irons that nail into your coffin.

“Take me like you mean it.”

The next few moments pass in a dizzying blur, a mess of anticipation as your shoes are yanked off, your pants following soon after and tossed into some unknown corner of the room. Paz helps you out of your shirt, a shiver wracking through your body from the chill, leaving you bare save for your underthings. Yet the warmth that seeps through his shirt and his hands that linger over your ribcage do a lovely job at making up for the cold.

Din shuffles closer and brings his fingers up to cup the side of your face, lowering his head to rest the crown of his helmet on your forehead. “Wanna touch you.”

Your breath hitches as Paz’s hands sweep up your torso, cupping and kneading your breasts. “Y-you already are touching me, Din."

Paz snorts as the rough leather of his gloves scrape over your skin and unhook your bindings. You hardly hear Din over your own whine as Paz rolls your hardened nipples between a forefinger and thumb.

“I want to feel you—without the gloves,” Din clarifies, fighting to keep your attention on him. “Will you let me?”

Maker that shouldn’t even be a question. You moan out your approval, delighted that both of them decide to slip off the padded fabric. Din touches your bare thigh the same moment Paz returns his hands to your tits and it’s exhilarating. The rasp of their bare palms against your flesh is addicting—something so foreign and warm compared to their usual armor and thick layered clothing.

You arch into Paz’s hand as it curls around the base of your throat, a tentative pressure but still heavy. “You’d let us do anything, wouldn’t you? Needy little thing.”

“Yes,” you croak, already debauched and falling apart at the seams. “Anything.”

You’re all too happy to fade away in the embrace of the larger man but the other participant is far from letting that slide. Din grabs your hand, guiding it towards the front of his trousers, the drawstrings already loose and easy to pull aside. He groans and twitches as your fingertips flirt along his navel, then curl over the waistband, tugging his pants the rest of the way down to pool around his knees.

You reach for the already impressive outline of his cock pressing against his boxers, but Paz cupping your cunt through your underwear just before you touch Din is distracting. You gasp and arch as Paz digs the heel of his palm against your clit, electrifying ecstasy zipping down your spine with each touch.

There’s a twinge of guilt after Din huffs and drags your limp wrist back to his cock, this time encouraging you to palm him by guiding your actions with his own hand until you lazily oblige. Din’s quiet grunts, gravely against the vocoder do nothing but throw more jet fuel to the fire inside your belly. The growing urge to actually touch him gnaws and corrodes the forefront of your brain. With a firm yank his boxers are quick to join his trousers and Maker—

Fuck—

Will he even fit?

Din is thick, rosy brown and flushed at the tip and beginning to curl towards his bellybutton. A bead of liquid shines at the tip, dribbling down the underside as he wraps his fist around the base of his length. He gives himself a languid stroke before he, once again, reminds your hand of what it’s supposed to be doing. Din is searing in your palm, molten and stiffening to hardened steel in your grip.

“You look so fuckin’ pretty like this,” Din hisses as his head rolls back onto his shoulders. “S-so pretty holding my cock.”

Your desperation tears at your insides, insatiable and Maker— you wanna taste him. You want to hear every little stuttered moan and feel each twitch of his hips as he claims your mouth as his own.

But before you’re able to ask Din if he’d be willing to fuck your throat, Paz grips your knee and slings your leg over his thigh, murmuring praise as he peels off your underwear. Paz’s hand snakes down to your pussy and runs two thick fingers through your already slick cunt, then delicately parts your folds.

It’s like a fucking bomb going off as his thumb grazes over your swollen clit. His forearm locks tight around your waist, keeping you in place as you arch and tremble. Paz is feather light and teasing, as he strokes over the little bundle of nerves in a painstakingly slow rhythm.

“Paz—“

He nudges your cheek with his helmet and chuckles. “You’re so sensitive, vaar’ika. Such lovely noises too.”

Paz trades in his light touches for using his two fingers instead. They form a relaxed ‘v’ shape, trapping your clit in between the digits as he massages in a steady up and down motion. You cry out, every nerve shocked and flooded with saccharine pleasure, shoving you so treacherously close to that precarious edge of release.

You have no fucking chance as a different set of fingers, leaner in length but just as bulky, carefully prod at your entrance. Din’s pointer finger slides into your cunt, quickly adding a second as your core clenches and stretches for him. The dual sensations over your clit and Din’s fingers steadily pumping and curling inside you send you hurling into that dazzling white-hot pleasure.

Throwing your head back, you cry out—a jumbled mess of their names or just nonsense— pleasure crackling out from your core and all the way down your legs. Your cunt tightens like a vice around Din’s digits, your legs twitching as your high dips into prickly overstimulation. You whine, and swat at Paz’s hand, Din pulling out his own fingers a moment later and wiping your wetness on the inside of your thigh.

Your head rests in the crook of Paz’s shoulder as your breath fans across the side of his helmet, fogging up the metal where the blue paint is chipped and scraped away. The shirt he wears smells a bit like sweat but the underlying scent of him is comforting—worn leather and something crisp, like fresh laundry. You don’t mean for the words to slip out—

You know better than that, but everything feels muddled and silly and, and, and—

“I wish I could kiss you.”

It’s like dousing ice cold water on a pile of smoldering coals. A silence, petrifying and like the inhale before jumping off a cliff and into a rocky sea, ensues. Stupid, stupid, stupid—

Paz shatters the fragile suspense with a rich laugh that burns away all the icy worry making itself a home in your ribcage. He moves his arm up, his fingers gripping your jaw to fix your gaze onto the other Mandalorian. “You want his mouth on you too?”

You whimper and nod, but it isn’t enough.

“Use your voice vaar’ika,” Paz hums, pressing the crown of his helmet against your cheek. “Tell us want you want.”

“I-fuck—” Paz’s fingertips sneak up your torso, rough callous catching deliciously on your skin. “I wan’t your mouth on me. B-both of you.”

Paz chuckles and releases his hold on your chin. “You’ll have to be blindfolded, sweet girl.”

Din scoffs, a harsh crackle through the vocoder. “Like she’d want to see your face anyway.”

“Please,” you mewl, turning your head to curl into Paz’s neck. It’s not ideal, but it’s a sacrifice you’re willing to make. “I don’t care. I need—“

“Patience, little one,” Paz purrs, rubbing up and down your bare sides in a soothing manner. All it does is stoke the flames. “You’ll get what you want.”

Paz shifts, reaching for your abandoned shirt and stars—

You can feel his cock, firmer then tempered durasteel and poking into your lower back. Oh, hell—these men are going to ruin you.

You’re nudged forward, your vision going dark once your shirt is securely tied around your head. The knot traps a few hairs that pull sharp against your scalp but the measly pain is worth it. Oh so worth it.

“Is it too tight?” You hear Din ask, concern lacing his gravely vocals.

You wave your hand in dismissal. “S’fine.”

“Cant see anything either, right?”

You squirm, your patience spreading thin. “Din, please.”

“Fine.” There’s no bite to his tone and under different circumstances you’d have more composure. Acknowledge that they’re putting their religion, their whole being into your hands—a fragile trust that could so easily be shattered.

Your ears pick up their subtle movements, their helmets landing onto the thin mat with soft thunks. With bated breath you wait for them to jump into action, seize every spare moment to taste your skin and breathe the same air. But—

“You need a haircut, vod.”

“And you need to shave.” Retorts Din with bitter indignation.

“It’s hardly even stubble.” He chortles. You giggle and twist away as he scrapes his prickly cheek up and down your neck. “Besides—she likes it.”

There’s another lull, and with the blindfold everything is amplified—the quick and quiet breathing of Din on your right and the slide of fabric against skin as Paz shifts. Your attention is captured by Din’s bare palm, warm and calloused like weathered leather left out in the afternoon sun. He caresses the outside of your thigh in smooth, longing strokes, enraptured by the softness of your skin. You whimper and let your leg fall open, exposing more of your thigh for his curious exploration.

The sudden touch on your cheek is jarring. You know Paz is there—it’s not an easy thing to forget the solid chest you’re leaning against but it’s hard to focus. Difficult to settle on one thought before it slips away like grains of sand between a clenched fist. Paz’s touch is heavier than Din’s, ambitious and greedy but…mindful. Even as his fingers spread along your jaw and drag you into a deep, mouthwatering kiss. It’s…stars—

There’s nothing that can describe this. No word that could ever hold a candle up to the way his lips, plush and soft, move against yours. His nose brushes against your cheek as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss, his warm tongue sliding against the seam of your bottom lip.

You whine and bury your hand into his hair as Paz groans, a low rumble in his throat. You wonder what color it is, but carding your fingers through the curls atop his head suffices for now.

Your curiosity is abruptly ended as Din’s hand snakes around your forearm. You’re forcibly yanked away, only to be met with another pair of lips. Din murmurs an apology at the sting of his teeth bumping into your upper lip, but the pain is hardly the first thing on your mind.

Din’s kiss is devouring—

Scalding and bright—the galaxy, a thousand suns, all there ever will be and all that ever was. The way his lips move against yours is a devastatingly sharp contrast to the steady, syrupy sweet kiss Paz offers. Desperate and eager to surround you in his own arms—steal away any lingering thought and replace it with him. Din Djarin—

You gasp as Din’s teeth nibble and pull on your bottom lip, only a moment before he surges closer, wrapping his hand around your jaw to hold it open as he licks deep into your mouth. Breaking for air, Din tangles his fingers into your hair at the base of your neck and yanks, baring the column of your throat. His travels down, the tender kisses morphing into teasing nips and lingering sucks that’ll turn into tender bruises in the morning.

Din hovers over your breasts, his heated breath and cooling saliva the catalyst to the goosebumps that rush over your skin. He lightly tugs on your nipple using his teeth, then plants a sweet kiss over your sternum.

“Can I taste you?” Din murmurs, his lips ghosting over your flesh. “Maker—wanna put my mouth on you.”

“Din—“ A different set of lips latching onto the juncture of your neck and hijacks your train of thought. Wipes your mind clean until Paz is the sole thing you can consciously focus on.

Paz laves his tongue over the shell of your ear and urges you to lean back against him once more. Your nose scrapes against his stubble as you tuck your head into the crook of his neck, his hips lazily rolling his hardened cock into your backside.

“Or…” Paz rumbles, capturing your hand and interlacing your fingers with his. You marvel at the sheer size of his palm—astounded still when he leads his and your hands to palm his cock. “I could give you this. Fuck your pretty little cunt until you’re screaming for me.”

It’s a punch to the gut. Why the fuck do you have to choose? You squirm as Din points his tongue over your nipple then sucks it into his mouth.

Working through the fog in your head, the answer is clearer than fucking crystal. Because who in their right mind would turn down a Mandalorian’s request to eat you out? Not you, that’s for sure. “Din—want your mouth.”

Din huffs in triumph and slips between your legs that part to accommodate his broad shoulders, leaving no patch of bare skin untouched and worshiped. You shiver as his tongue circles around your bellybutton then retreats. Din settles his head beside your knee and mouths a kiss there.

You whine his name and buck your hips, heart beating wildly in your ears. The teasing is unbearable and, stars—if he doesn’t start now—

He nibbles on the inside of your thigh, laving his warm tongue over each mark he leaves behind, buffering the sting of his teeth. Din snake his hands under your ass, hooking your knees over his shoulders as he heaves your cunt closer to his mouth. Din’s thumbs part your soaking pussy, his breath hot fanning over your cunt. His tongue his scalding—like liquid velvet as he dips the tip of his tongue from the base of your slit all the way up to your clit.

Din sucks on the little bundle of nerves, rolling his tongue until you’re crying out, molten pleasure zipping through you. He grunts as your fingers tangle into his hair—fuck. Fuck, you need more.

Arching into his mouth, all thoughts are obliterated; nothing but the warmth of his tongue, and his lips, devouring you as if he were a man seconds from death and you’re his saving grace. That frenzied desperation lingers on the edges of his movements like he’s afraid you’ll fade into smoke—but you’re not going anywhere. Not even a million credits could convince you to push Din’s head away.

He sinks two fingers into your clenching hole and curls his fingers, stroking and curling his fingertips to make you sing. Zeros in on that little spot that causes the involuntary twitches of your leg and wrenches embarrassing, high pitched mewls that fill the room. You’re careening towards your high, the sensitivity of your last orgasm amping up the influx of pleasure.

“Shit—Din. Close—I’m so close,” you gasp, pulling his hair tight enough that you know it must hurt. He makes no sign that it does, just groans and buries his tongue into your dripping hole, licking alongside his fingers that shovel more of your wetness into his mouth.

Your release unfurls through your body like sticky molasses—smoldering embers that seep into each limb until they’re heavier than lead. Fuck—it’s so hard to think and at this rate your brain is as good as gone.

You pay only a fraction of attention to Din as he kisses his way back up your body and lands a final one over your lips. His thumb grazes over your chin, his gravelly words of praise cutting through some of that foggy haze, how good you were, how fucking delicious you tasted when you came on his tongue. You taste your own arousal on his mouth as he noses your cheek and captures your lips in another kiss.

“Are you done?” Paz asks dryly, much too barbed to be thrown your way. You groan when Paz jostles your limp body as he hoists you back into his lap.

“Just starting, actually,” Din quips. “Why don’t you hand her back over? I’ve got some more things I wanna try.”

Paz scoffs and secures a heavy arm around your middle. “Greed will get you nowhere.”

“Neither will your arrogance.”

“Shut up—both of you,” you interrupt. Your voice is raw and choppy but it does the job. “Just fuck me already.”

For now their little spat is sidelined—it’s not worth ripping off that bandage of a temporary truce. There’s a chaste moment of quiet, like they’re considering tearing into each other’s throats instead, but with a touch to Paz’s thigh the standoff fizzles out.

“We need to work on your manners,” Paz suggests, curling his large, calloused hand around your neck in a loose hold. “I believe it’s please fuck me.”

Maybe if you weren’t practically a pile of brainless goo, you’d argue. See how far you can push—though this time you fold. “Please fuck me. P-please—I need it.”

Seemingly satisfied with your answer; Paz wedges a hand between your bodies to grip his cock and run the tip through your folds, soaked from you own wetness and Din’s saliva. The head of his member nudges at your entrance, and wether it’s his size or the fact you can’t see anything—you panic.

Your hand shoots out, nails harpooning into the meat of his forearm. “W-wait—you’re too b-big.”

Paz freezes and moves you up his lap and presses a kiss over you hairline. “We can stop. Just say—“

“N-no, I’m fine,” you assure, planting an apologetic peck on his stubbled jaw. Stopping is the last thing you want to do—it was just…overwhelming. A sensory overload testing the very fringes of your being. “Go slow?”

You feel his head bob in compliance as he moves you back to where you’re hovering over his cock. You relax this time, not as many alarm bells clanging through your head as your cunt flutters around the fat tip and then that glorious, first thick inch. Paz’s thumb bumps over your throbbing clit, coaxing your pussy to take him further.

“Yeah, that’s it vaar’ika,” he grunts, his breath fanning over your neck in quick pants. “Taking my cock so fucking well. So nice and pretty.”

Your pussy flutters, fresh waves of arousal hot and burning.You nearly keel over when Paz starts shallowly rocking his hips, easing your body the rest of the way down his length until the back of your thighs touch his. Maker—how the hell is he all the way inside? You can feel him in your fucking guts—

“See?” Paz purrs. He sucks a bruise into the meat of your shoulder and pushes his palm against your lower stomach, making the fit even tighter. “Fits fucking perfect.”

The noise your cunt makes pulling out and the debauched moan that filters through his vocal chords is obscene. If anyone where to walk by, well—it’s certainly not training that’s going on, for the better lack of words.

Paz holds true to his word—keeps his pace limited to deep, languid thrusts that brush up against something that makes your whole body shake—like strumming a golden chord molded to a musician’s fingers. Fuck—he’s doing all the work too. Lifting you by the swell of your hips and pulling you down onto his cock with a rough buck of his hips.

Abruptly, he slows to a gentle rocking—quick to lock you in place as you thrash and roll your hips. “Paz—n-no. Keep going. You n-need to—“

Paz silences your please with a wet, open mouthed kiss. “Our friend looks lonely. Why don’t you use that pretty mouth and suck his cock?”

Din.

You hear the man curse in Mando’a, probably some stab at Paz—

But with a pat to your outer thigh, you don’t need any more prompting—you’d give up your left hand to get a chance to suck him off. With the help of Paz, you’re eased onto your hands and knees, shocks of white-hot pleasure zipping through your core at the change of angle. Like this Paz is seated deeper inside, stabbing into each spot that makes you sing.

Fuck—your arms are shaking—only able to hold yourself up for half a click and then you’re sinking face first into the floor, ass in the air as he fucks into you. Paz clicks his tongue and wraps his arm around your front, pulling you back up from your slumped position.

“I told you to suck his cock, girl. Not take a nap.” Paz accentuates his words with heavy, well measured thrusts—the kind of force you know will leave your whole lower half throbbing and sore in the aftermath.

You whine as Paz grabs a hold of your jaw, digging into the tender joints until your mouth falls open. “Good. Keep it like that.”

Paz’s hand falls away, replaced by a softer touch. The pads of Din’s fingers hook under your chin, guiding and tempting you nearer to what rests between his legs, hot and heavy and large.

You feel the tip of his cock, flushed and pulsing, rest on your bottom lip. You lap up the beads of sticky precum with kitten licks that morph into suckling the entire head. Din grunts out your name and tangles his hand into your hair as you tongue at the ridged frenulum. He never forces you to swallow down more of him—lets you cradle the first few inches in the wet warmth of your mouth and languidly roll the pad of your tongue around him.

You want to take him deeper, let Din fuck your throat raw, but your jaw already aches. Your lips are pulled tight around his shaft, drool dribbling down your chin and landing on the mat below. You’re not sure if you could take more of him without the danger of your teeth catching or dislocating your jaw. So you manage like this—hollowing out your cheeks and and using the momentum of Paz’s thrusts to pleasure Din.

It’s frustrating—it must be each time you let his cock slip out of your mouth to breathe or the fact Din isn’t able to fucking fit his cock into your mouth. Annoying that you aren’t able to think properly to help him out a bit ore when that said brain is being fucked straight outta you, put through the wringer and then body slammed onto duracrete.

Din cups your cheek, strokes over your skin with his thumb and maneuvers himself out of your mouth. You whine and lean into his palm, his touch addictive like smoldering coals in the dead of winter.

“You want me there instead of him?” Din purrs, using the tips of his index and middle fingers to tilt your chin and drag you into an open mouthed kiss. “Fuck you like you deserve.”

The profane imagery of Din between your legs instead makes you clench tight. It only takes a couple seconds and a few more feverish kisses before you’re nodding to his request. Paz mutters a swear, hesitates, and reluctantly pulls out, leaving your cunt empty and aching with need.

Din, however, is speedy—quick to hoard you to himself and yank your legs over his hips so that you’re draped on his lap. He jumps straight to the point, no fancy maneuver or drawn out teasing—just grabs the base of his cock, slides the flushed tip between your folds and sinks into your cunt. Even after your pussy had been stretched and molded around Paz’s length, you struggle to take Din’s entire cock into your aching center. It’s easier than Paz but, Maker—not by much.

You whine, harpooning your fingernails into his shoulder once he bottoms out. Din snarls a curse and latches his teeth onto the juncture between your neck and shoulder, prickly pain shooting directly to your belly. “Fucking tight. H-how—fuck.”

There’s no time to adjust before Din sets a pace, harsh and desperate—his hands digging into the flesh of your ass for better leverage. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own end before it could be yanked out from under him. Din’s staggered exhales below your ear are interlaced with subdued moans that start low in his ribcage then dip into a higher, airy pitch. A delicate sound you’ll guard closer to your chest than any secret you possess for the rest of your life—precious and yours.

Din turns his head to steal a kiss. “You feel fuck—fucking good. Wanna feel you cum around me. S-squeezed so fucking hard around my fingers—“

You choke out a groan and feel your arousal begin to drip down your thighs—hear the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter. Heat sizzles down each vertebrae in your spine, burning up each and every cell with the brilliance of a wildfire. Stars, this is gonna destroy you.

Din’s hand sneaks between your bodies and rubs tight, little circles over you swollen clit. There’s no build up to your orgasm—just a blinding surge of blistering warmth that knocks you off your feet and steals away all the air left in your lungs. Your nails dig into Din’s back as you shake and grapple for a foothold in your own consciousness—the steady warmth of his body a much needed anchor for the madness that threatens to drown you.

“Good girl,” Din praises, pace faltering from just how tight your pussy squeezes and flutters around his cock. “S-such a fucking good girl for me.”

Regaining some semblance of control, you realize he’s still fucking going—still rock solid and throbbing, fucking you through the aftershocks of your release. Your arousal turns sharp, like rough cotton over a fresh sunburn as it dips into overstimulation. It’s not unpleasant but Din has to slow his hips to a delicate roll for you to recover.

In the time it takes to inhale, a different calloused hand kneads into your lower back then smoothes up your spine. A second later you feel the scrape of Paz’s stubble prick along your exposed shoulder as his tongue drags along your sweat dampened skin—all the way up the curve of your neck and ending at the shell of your ear.

You’re not sure if it’s intentional, but as Paz crowds closer the tip of his cock pokes at your other hole. With a surprised mewl, you tense and shy away—but he follows, molds his chest against your back to sandwhich you in. The hand gripping your bicep jumps to your neck and pulls your head against his shoulder.

Two of Paz’s fingers dip down the curve of your ass and brush along the puckered skin—far less jarring this time. “Do you want to be fucked here too?”

Maker—

You’re gonna fucking explode.

Stuffed to the brim already, it’s hard to imagine Paz cramming himself in along with Din. A little red light blares in some corner of your mind but it’s quickly soothed as Paz plants soft kisses over your cheek and jaw. You trust him—there’s no reason to think he’ll hurt you or push you to the point of pain.

You catch his mouth with a kiss and rock your hips back. “Y-yeah, ok. I trust you.”

You feel his smile curl against your cheek. “Don’t worry vaar’ika—I’ll take care of you.”

Paz strokes your bottom lip with his thumb and kisses the crown of your hairline as you sink into him. With his ring and middle finger, he pushes past the seam of your lips. “Suck.”

You obey, sealing your lips around his two digits and coating them in your saliva. Paz pulls them out with a pop and moves them between your legs, and with the added wetness dripping from your cunt, the first finger is easy enough. The second and third have you gasping as he scissors them and stretches your tight hole wider. You claw your nails into Din’s shirt—and he’s no better—Din’s own hands are clamping around your hips, struggling to keep still and biting back moans each time your cunt constricts.

Your hips begins to meet the thrusts of Paz’s fingers as your body familiarizes the feel of him there. It’s a deep thrill that rushes up through your spinal cord—much different from anything you’ve felt before.

“You like this, don’t you?” Paz goads, chuckling when you whine as he extracts his fingers. “I think you’re ready to take my cock, yeah?”

You shudder and nod, your voice no more than a squeak as it pilfers out. Paz strokes the top of your head and tips you forward into Din’s eager arms as Paz slicks up his length in a mix of precum and your dripping arousal. He touches the swell of you ass in warning, lines himself up with your hole and wedges the tip of his cock inside of you.

Involuntary tears dampen your makeshift blindfold as Paz buries himself deeper, his rumbling tone urging you to relax—relax even though your mind is drowning in an ocean of arousal and swirling emotions you have no hope to pin down and analyze. It’s for the best—thankful as Paz bottoms out that it wrenches you back to a feasible reality you’re able to manage.

“Shit—I-I’m gonna die—“ You sob, writhing at just how full you are. But there’s nowhere to fucking go—

“Easy,” Din breathes, and you wonder if he’s said it to keep his own head on his shoulders. “Easy.”

Din’s gravelly rasp cuts through the fog in your head, and stars—you sound like you’re fucking dying. Your wheezy breaths and lightheadedness would certainly suggest that—but no…no, you’re fine. Better than fine.

A rush so acute and devastating launches up your spine as Din’s patience cracks. He experimentally rolls his hips and that’s the end of it. You’re swallowed up in that riptide you fought so hard to avoid—fuck. You won’t be the same after this. How can you?

You can feel them both, separated by a thin wall as they sprint towards their own highs. You’re never once left empty—Din reaches the end of you as Paz pulls out and while there’s not exactly any finesse involves it’s the best fucking thing you’ve felt in your entire life. There’s no bickering—no teasing and you’re struck with an idea that makes you clench tight around both of them. You wouldn’t mind if this was the way they decided to settle scores or finally see eye to eye.

This time you can’t discern your high—just a constant overflow of ecstasy and dazzling arousal like an imploding supernova. You cry their names—sob and shake in their hold with such fervor that Paz traps you tighter between them to keep you still.

“Fuck—you get so fucking tight,” Paz growls, blunt nails digging into your hips. “And so fucking wet.”

His fingers touch the inside of your thigh and stars—he’s right. “I get to fuck your cunt next time—see how much you’ll drip for me.”

Even if the blindfold were off—there’d be nothing to see but a white wash of nothing. Blinded by pleasure and bursting at the seems.

Jealous, Din steals your breath away with a kiss, licking and nipping at your swollen lips until you whine his name. His jagged pants fan across your chin—chapped lips and patchy facial hair tickling across your bottom lip as you breath the same air.

Din whispers your name like a prayer, his fingers clutching tight around your thighs as his pace starts to flounder to choppy jerks. “Shit. I-I’m close—“

Your fingers twist into his hair. “Yeah—ok baby. Let go.”

Din’s teeth sink into the base of your throat and cums. His seed coats your insides—hot and copious and fucking shit—if there’s a next time you want him to cum in your mouth.

You don’t get time to relish Din’s stuttered gasps of your name, laced with praise and a show of a tender and bleeding heart before Paz is gathering up your hair in a tight fist and jerking your head up. “You—you want me to cum too? Say it.”

Without a breath of hesitation you beg for it, cry and arch into him. It does the trick—

Paz is loud—shouts a thunderous roar and buries his cock deep into your hole. Din is still recovering from the aftershocks of his release when Paz pulls out after what seems like ages pumping you full. His cock no longer there to plug you up, his cum begins to dribble out and mix with the mess between your legs. Your legs shake and you wobble--crying out as Din slips out, your body dreadfully empty and aching.

You're lowered to the mat by Din and if you weren't still trying to formulate words, you'd thank them. Lips dart over your cheeks and hairline, and for once nothing needs to be said. It’s nice...the radiating warmth from their bodies and the simmering flush through you body is something you could get used to. But you’re no stranger to the shifting tides of the future.

You shrug it off.

Your eyes are heavy and with one of them stroking your hair and the other your thigh, you drift to sleep. Later—later all unspoken things and disastrous words can be dealt with tomorrow. You must be dreaming when it’s said--careless and bold, but the words nestle into your heart and sprouts with fear.

“You love her, don't you?”

translation:

vaar’ika--pipsqueak

or’dinni--dumbass idiot

vod--brother/comrade

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