#sorry for the sketchy... been really tired lately

[yanderelovlies]

Note: So, I read this concept on A03 and have taken quite a liking to it. Though I'm tuning, it to fit my narrative for each character.

Fandom(s): SWWSDJ, DachaBo, DMC

Character(s): Sunny Day Jack, Bo, and Dante,

Sunny Day Jack

Something felt off, and Jack couldn't put his finger on it. The person he met when being freed from that hell wasn't who he was expecting. Though he wasn't even sure what he was expecting in the first place. Despite this feeling, he still treated her kindly but never got close. He would make the occasional breakfast and talk with her, but he didn't feel anything when they talked about a man named Ian. Nor did he care when another man named Shaun showed up. It felt off and wrong. However, the day he went to work with them was the day he figured out it felt this day.

"y/n Should be here shortly to help you, Jane." Barry gave them his forced smile on his hand on the door. "They are the new hire, so make sure to show them the ropes!"

Jane nodded, trying to look as professional as possible until Barry finally left. Once she was sure he was gone, she let out a sigh, leaning over the counter. "I hate training newbies..." she mumbled, waiting for you to show up.

When you came through the door, a nervous smile on your face, the world seemed slightly brighter to Jack. "Sorry I'm late! I had a bit of trouble getting here."

Jane shrugged, not seeming to pay too much mind to you. "Well, come on. I have plenty to show you "

The whole time, Jack couldn't keep his eyes off of you. His whole being screams to get closer to you. To hold you and to keep you close. He knew you wouldn't be able to see hear or feel him, but he wanted to no matter how futile it was. He now knew why being where he wasn't didn't feel right. He wasn't meant to be with Jane he was meant to be with you.

You were meant to find the tape. You were the one he was meant to fall in love. You were the one

So, while Jane showed you how to do the job, Jack would sneak in little touches and praise even when you couldn't feel them. He needed more.

When yours and Jane's shift finished and you went your separate ways. Jack kept thinking about you, and when he got home with Jane, he tucked up in bed. He moved the VHS tape, where it was laid by the TV, and put it into Jane's bag.

He WILL make sure you get it tomorrow so he can be where he rightfully belongs. by your side.

Bo

Bo got along with John well enough. The two of them talked and enjoyed each other's company, but it stopped that odd feeling Bo had. Like this wasn't where he was meant to be, but that didn't make sense? where else was he supposed to be besides his best friends side?

"Hey you wanna see the new friend I made?"

The sound of John's voice made Bo perk up. He enjoyed it when his friend came home, and it made him feel less alone.

"Uh, sure? it's not some sketchy person, right?"

The sound of a new voice REALLY peaked Bo's interest. It sounds nice and melodic. He could listen to it 24/7 and never grow tired of it. Bo got super excited when he heard John scoff closer to his device.

"Since when I have I introduced you to shady people?" There was silence before a John sigh."Come here and let me show you." He turned on Bo's device, making the world around him brighten up, and he could finally see John again.

"Hey buddy! how was work?"

John smiled. "Good! Actually I have a friend I want to show you to!"

Bo watched the world on the other side move as John handed the device to someone else. When your face came into view, Bo could feel everything stop. His tail was wagging as his breath shortened. Where have you been all his life?

The more he talked to you throughout the day, the more in love he had become. He began to realize why things with John didn't feel like they should. He was never meant to be with John he was meant to be with you.

After a couple hours of flirts and talking, you finally had to head home for the night. It pained Bo to hear you leave, but he felt the more he thought of his plan. Soon, he will be out of John's hands and into yours.

Dante Sparda

Dante has been through many things in his long life, so it was quick for him to sense if things were wrong, and when he woke up that morning, things definitely felt off.

He got up like he normally did. Tried to take a shower before realizing the water was off and the bill was due like he normally did. He even threw on his clothes with a grumble as he made his way downstairs like he normally did.

However, when he faced his desk was where things felt off. Sitting there was a dark-haired mom looking through the bills before looking at her phone. "I'm trying to get a hold of the companies. Why didn't you tell me they were due?!"

He shrugged. "I left them on the desk." He blinked a couple of times. That didn't feel natural. Like his movements and words aren't his own.

"Yeah, well, you could have told me." Before he could respond, the woman got up from her seat, putting the phone to her ear. "Hi, I'm calling to get electricity back on at Devil May Cry?" Her voice faded as he went outside the door, shutting behind her.

That was how the rest of the day went for Dante, and it was starting to freak him out. It seems like it's been this way from he talks with the woman. He found out her name it Norma.

Yet it all didn't feel right to him. It was like it was all off with Norma being there. However, since he wasn't able to prove anything, he went about his day as normal.

Night had rolled around, letting Norma leave for the night, and Dante louging with his feet up on the desk. Not expecting much before bed, Dante let out a loud yawn when his front door opened slowly.

When you walked in it was like the world stopped. despite your almost frantic state, he felt like he was meeting an angel.

"Are you in charge of Devil May Cry?"

God, even your voice sounded melodic. "Yeah. the names Dante. How can I help?"

Even though it was business, the two of you were talking he couldn't help but feel like it was right. Like you were always supposed to be here in Devil May Cry, but by so.e twist of fate you weren't.

Dante was gonna fix that. No matter what it took.

[moonchildstyles]

No wait because what about Angel getting off of work late one random Wednesday, and she was supposed to get off earlier but the person she was working with got sick and went home, so she had to close now. but all her shift there was this creepy guy just hanging around like all day and it’s not like he said or did anything but she just got weird creepy vibes from him and he just kept like staring and stuff. Well finally he leaves cus they are closing but he’s just hanging around out front even though it’s dark out and Angel is the last one there since she was the closer and she’s just waiting for him to leave. She’s trying to talk her self out of being scared, thinking she’s probably being dramatic maybe he’s just waiting for a ride or something. Usually she’d go to h’s shop but she knew he was already at home cus she wasn’t supposed to close today so he didn’t know to wait for her. but she doesn’t want to walk home with the man still watching her, and he’s not leaving, it’s getting late and she’s sleepy from working all day so she calls Harry and he picks up thinking she’s at home in bed already, calling him to say good night so he’s like “hi baby 🥰” and she’s just rambles out “H, hi. Um I’m really really sorry to ask cus I know its late and your probably in bed already but, I’m trying to walk home and there’s this guy out there, well he’s been here all day and it’s probably nothing like he didn’t do any thing wrong but he’s just here and he’s just waiting out side and I’m all alone and it’s dark I don’t really wanna walk home alone and-“ and he’s already jumping up putting on his shoes and grabbing his keys and “hey hey, it alright okay? I’ll come give you a ride.” “No Harry you don’t-“ “Don’t leave y/n. Stay in the library until I come and get you okay?” And she’s “no! No you don’t have to do that it’s late and- I was just calling you so you could stay on the phone with me while I walked home and-“ and he’s like “I’m already on my was so just be quite yeah? Wait there please” and she’s “..okay” and when he gets there he doesn’t wait in the car for her, he gets all the way out and walks up to the door to come get her and he walks her to the car himself and opens the door for her and makes sure she buckles her seat belt before he shuts it and climbs in on his side and he’d drive her home 🥹 and she’d even fall asleep in the car cus she’s so tired from working an extra long shift and he’d carry her from the car to her bed 😔

Omg wait stop:( like it’s been a long night anyway w having to stay late and there was a new shipment of books so she had to soend a lot of her night like labeling and printing barcodes and getting the carts ready for the openers to put away in the morning so she’s just tired but yeah maybe someone’s been lingering and like she gets it she likes the library too that’s why she works there but it’s just so….sketchy bc he’s not really doing anything he’s just Lurking and pretending to read when she swears she can feel him looking at her and she doesn’t recognize him at all and when everything closes up and her coworker heads out before her and she still sees that guy out there she’s just trying to be normal ab it like he might be waiting on an Uber or a friend or like…like not everything’s about her so this guy isn’t waiting on her right????? But even when everything’s locked up and all she has left to do is leave and lock the door she just…can’t:( and she feels so bad calling h bc she knows he had a long day too and is probably finally home all wrapped up w Evie and :( but she doesn’t know what else to do:( and h is sooo happy to hear from her assuming she’s already in bed too and hi baby:) what are u doing??? And she’s quiet and a little panicked like hi h are you busy or would you be able to stay on the phone w me???? And he’s immediately like ????? Bc what does that even mean and he’s like ofc I can stay on the phone w u what’s wrong is everything okay???? And she explains that she stayed to close today and there’s been this guy that’s been there for half her shift and he’s still outside like idk maybe he’s smoking or something before he goes home or waiting on a ride she’s not sure she just…doesn’t feel safe rn so she wants him to talk to her while he walks home and h isn’t even listening after she says she’s alone at the library rn bc that’s not what he likes to hear he’s already up and pulling on a hoodie and his shoes before he’s telling her hey it’s alright yeah? I’m coming to get you rn don’t worry I’ll take you home and she’s like no no!!!! It’s late h I just wanted you to stay w me while I walked and he gets stern d*ddy and No Y/N I’m coming to get you I’m already leaving the house okay? You stay there until I come to get you you hear me? And she’s all quiet like…yeah🥺 and he stays on w her until she sees him pull up and he gets out and meets her inside the library for a big hug once she lets him in:( and he holds her so close to his side while walking her back giving a mean look to the guy who started kind of sulking away once he saw h go in for y/n and she’s just so relieved to see him :( like finally relaxing after such a mind-pudding day:( and that’s how she falls asleep in the passenger seat and h has to take her up to bed where he ends up spending the night:(

[the-widow-sisters]

Can you do “Why are you so cold? You’re like an icicle!” with either Carol and Kate or Carol and Yelena?

A/N: Thank you so, so much for this request! 🥰

This one was kind of a wild plot, but I had to think of something to go with the prompt 😂💗 Idk, for some reason, the angst has been coming in lately, so I'm sorry for the lack of fluff in this one, y'all 😅💞 I've just kind of been pretty tired and not in the most energetic of spirits lately (mostly just because I'm too exhausted to be anything but a lump on a log 🤣), so it's just one of them there things I reckon 🤷‍♀️🤠

I hope you enjoy! Positive comments mean the world to me! 🥰💖💖💖

Word Count: 1.6k+

   “Come on! It’s just a few boxes!” Yelena whined, and Carol shook her head.

   “Should’ve thought of that when you refused to reply to me when I was out on that delightful trip out to Ploitar,” Carol stated as she reached the couch in the common room. She wasted no time in flopping down on it, lounging as she stretched out luxuriously.

   “Come on… I just need a little help,” Yelena tried again, and Carol huffed softly.

   “I don’t help inconsiderate turd heads,” Carol informed her coolly, closing her eyes and folding her arms behind her head as her shirt rode up just a little on her torso.

   After a few beats of silence, Carol could feel Yelena sitting down on the couch next to her. Carol did not bother moving her legs as Yelena pushed her way up into Carol’s space. Carol simply ignored her, smiling calmly in satisfaction as she felt Yelena’s irritation rolling off of her.

   Seriously. Yelena should have at least answered her texts from the past few days. She knew signals were sketchy in space, but she also was aware of the fact that Yelena had gotten her texts because she had said as much when Carol had asked her earlier.

   But now Yelena was wanting her to help her with moving a few things to storage at the compound that Natasha had asked Yelena to do by herself?

   Yelena needed to learn that she could not just call upon Carol whenever she felt like it or whenever it was convenient for her, and Carol was not about to let up until the girl apologized or something.

   However, Carol instantly jumped as an unexpected sensation of complete and utter cold landed against her stomach. She let out a yelp before raising up as her eyes shot open to gape at the younger woman.

   Yelena was grinning wickedly, her hand under Carol’s shirt and resting on her abs as she did not bother concealing her cackle at Carol’s expense.

   “Why are you so cold?! You’re like an icicle!” Carol cried, and Yelena shrugged.

   “I am Russian,” she stated as if that were supposed to answer the question.

   Carol just scoffed as she closed her eyes, settling into the couch once more as she allowed her body to heat up significantly. A soft glow was emanating from her, and she noted the way Yelena’s face lit up with the change in lighting.

   Yelena pulled her hand off of Carol at first, surprise written on her face at the sudden heat. However, she then slowly resettled her hand against Carol’s stomach, letting herself warm up.

   Carol did not say anything or attempt to stop her, not really minding her being there despite the fact that she was waiting on an apology. Yelena moved her other hand on Carol’s stomach, the chill of her skin quickly starting to disappear with the heat that Carol was giving off.

   After a few moments of silence, Yelena cleared her throat.

   “So are you going to help me?” Yelena finally asked once more, and Carol just hummed as she shook her head, barely cracking open an eye as she looked at Yelena.

   “Not until I get an explanation or apology,” Carol stated, and Yelena groaned as she rolled her eyes and removed her hands from Carol’s stomach where she was so effectively warming them.

   “Ugh… The job would be so easy for you! Why are you being difficult?” Yelena demanded, and Carol felt the beginning prickles of irritation rising within her along with the hurt that she had tried so hard to suppress since Yelena’s neglect.

   “Because you don’t just ghost people that are supposed to be your best friends,” Carol informed her, her smug coolness dropping away to reveal the hurt hiding beneath. Yelena sobered, looking at her with a new respect in her eyes as she seemed to understand what was wrong.

  Carol settled back down on the couch, warming herself up again as she glowed softly. Space was never fun for her, and when she was flying between planets, she almost always kept her temperature running hot. The cold reminded her too much of hospitals and the emotional pain associated with it.

   And since she was coming back from a trip in space and there had been little to no contact with her and the people she cared about, it felt like there was a cold that she just could not shake. Factually, she knew that it was hot outside, and even with the air conditioning inside the compound, it was still too warm to be heating herself up.

   However, she just could not get past that cold sensation.

   “I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your messages.”

   Carol opened her eyes as she looked at Yelena once more.

   Yelena was sitting there, and her eyes were downcast as the regret clearly shined on her face in a manner that was so uncharacteristic to the typically more hardened Russian. Carol was honestly quite surprised at the emotion showing in her, and she quickly realized that Yelena must have really been sorry.

   Carol remained quiet, waiting on an explanation for why Yelena had not replied.

   “I have been so busy. Kate Bishop took me to the library to tell a story to kids one day and I have been actually trying to stay busy because I,” Yelena stopped, flashing a glance in Carol’s direction.

   Carol just watched her patiently as she rose to sit up straighter on the couch, awaiting the girl’s next words. Yelena seemed terribly hesitant to speak, and Carol remained quiet, not wanting to push her despite the fact that she needed to hear what Yelena had to say.

   “Well, I didn’t have my favorite Boomer to pick on in-person so I had to occupy my time somehow,” Yelena simply settled for saying, a gruffness in her tone, and Carol felt herself soften as she realized that Yelena had not meant to do it.

   Time had gotten away from her, and she had been trying to distract herself. Those were two things that Carol could relate to deeply.

   Carol let out a gentle breath, feeling something akin to relief and slight guilt coming to her as her own slight overreaction settled in upon her.

   She was not sure whether she should reveal why the entire thing had bothered her so much. Yelena did not know about Carol’s phobia of the ice cold and the effect that the natural chill of space had upon her. She did not know that she had such a history with the cold and the hospitals and the turmoil within her that was connected to it.

   However, on the other hand, she felt it was only right to reveal it at this point. Especially after Yelena had been so remarkably open about her feelings.

   “Look… It’s okay,” Carol expressed, her voice soft as she looked at the shorter blonde. Carol let out a soft breath, moving her head noncommittally as she continued.

   “I might’ve reacted badly because space,” Carol paused, trying to think of the best way to put it.

   Yelena was watching her intently, her honey greens focused on Carol’s every move. Carol swallowed back the nervousness at exposing the sensitive feelings.

   “Space makes me feel alone. It’s cold, and it brings back a lot of memories of cold times in my life,” Carol confessed hesitantly, and Yelena looked at her carefully. She amazingly did not seem to have a single bit of judgement in her expression as she regarded the taller blonde.

   “Maybe so. But, um,” Yelena looked down for a moment as she paused. She then looked back up at Carol.

   “You’re not alone anymore,” Yelena simply stated, and Carol instantly felt her heart squeeze painfully.

   She blinked quickly as she nodded in reply to her, forcing a grin and an admittedly less than entirely genuine laugh as she tried to shake off the emotions coming to the surface. Once she was sure that she had herself pulled together, she looked back at Yelena once more, trying to move them into more playful territory that was in the realm of what they were most used to with one another.

   “So… Are you still cold?” Carol asked, leaning back against the couch as she had been doing before.

   “No. I wasn’t cold in the first place,” Yelena tried to stubbornly insist.

   Carol raised an eyebrow, reaching out to her as she softly grasped Yelena’s arm with her fingers. Yelena remained still, not fighting Carol’s contact but seemingly completely at a loss as to how to respond to it.

   Carol hummed in dissatisfaction, grabbing Yelena’s arm firmly as she yanked her forward and into her very much heated body. Yelena instantly stiffened and started to protest, but Carol wrapped her arms around her, letting Yelena lay against her with her head pressed into Carol’s collarbone. Yelena halfheartedly fought her, pushing back against her as she refused to settle, and Carol just huffed a soft laugh.

   “Don’t fight it, short stack. You’re cold. Just embrace it,” Carol was quiet for a beat, realizing their situation and the irony of her word choice.

   “Literally,” Carol added on with a laugh.

   Yelena groaned, but the way that she stopped fighting indicated to Carol that she was not entirely against the idea of being held.

   “My hands were cold because I was eating ice cream earlier,” Yelena informed her, unimpressed as she remained held in Carol’s arms, and Carol just huffed.

   “I’m going to sweat all over you,” Yelena piped up once more, and Carol scoffed with a wide smile.

   “Nice try. Still not letting you go that easy.”

   “Hmph.”

   And as she squeezed Yelena in her arms, Carol finally started to feel warm again.

[renneiscent]

You Are All That Matters

Hello, I sincerely apologise for updating really late. I got knocked off by life and somehow I wasn’t able to continue this fic but thank God, I finally managed to write this chapter. I hope you enjoy this chapter and hopefully this makes sense and thank you for reading this. I appreciate it so much and once again, I’m deeply sorry for updating really late.

Warning: Violence.

Chapters: 15/?

< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >

“There weren’t just two people involved in the incident back then.” He takes a pause, “there were three.” Before I managed to ask what the hell he is talking about, the man in front of me is taking off the ugly mask he is wearing and making his face is fully exposed. In the middle of dark forest with the limited light source, I unfortunately can still see his familiar face clearly which looks worn out with the obtrusive stubble and tiring eye bags.

I’m crushed.

Have you ever heard about Elisabeth Kübler-Ross? She was a psychiatrist and one of her great contributions in this world is her theory about five stages of grief. Those stages are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally an acceptance. These stages are our attempts to accept the change, the reality that hits hard, the loss we have been through, and our effort to adapt with the hurting truth. To summarise, it’s basically saying the process to accept what it’s unacceptable.

And I think I’m already in the first stage; denial.

I’m confusedly looking at the man in front of me. Richy Rogers. He is avoiding eye-contact with the clenched jaw. Is he feeling guilty? Feeling shame? Humiliated? I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’m feeling right now. I don’t even know if what it’s in front of me is real or just a product of my stress. I don’t know… I don’t want to know anymore.

“Ten years ago,” he finally is speaking after the silence between us. His breath is slow and hard. “Hannah and Amy showed up on my doorstep.” He is taking glance at me before looking away again. “Pine Glade was almost over.  Stuck already. They wanted me to drive them to Grimrock because Amy lost something there… I can’t even remember what it was,” he quietly scoffs. “I had been at the festival the whole day, I was drunk.” He let out the dry laugh then looks at me. “I had a couple of drinks… I said no… but they insisted… they were in a hurry… they already made this huge detour to get to me so… and I had been driving around our yard a couple of times… so, I gave them the key to an old AMC Gremlin—one that should have been scrapped a couple days later. So I thought, there is no harm in that.”

“Right?” He shrugs then look at me; asking for my judgement probably, but I’m not sure if that’s his intention. because before I managed to response, he already throw his gaze at somewhere else again. There is a long pause between us, this time his face look more tensed. The atmosphere around him somehow is also changing; it becomes heavier than before. I know where this is going.

 “A couple of minutes they showed up again… and I almost didn’t recognise the car.” He is trailing off, “there was blood on the windshield… there was blood on the bumper…”

No, no. Stop talking.

“And none of them were capable to as much as other to sing a word. I thought they must have hit an animal—some deer that jumped in front of the car. So, I drove them to the spot…” he is taking a deep breath.

Please stop.

“And there she was… a girl… covered in blood… lifeless.” He let out a quiet sigh. “We buried it in the forest… we never spoke a word of that again…” he is slowly putting his gaze on me, I’m still unable to understand that expression. “I’m sorry.”

I’m falling apart. And right now, I think I’m leveling to the second stage; anger.

I’m letting out a bitter laugh, it’s so bitter until I think I can even taste the imaginary flavour of it on the tip of my tongue. All of these strange feelings I have noticed, all of those sketchy situations—I already have this presumption before, but seems like my emotions and illogical trust with him cloud my perspective. Without I was aware, I had ignored all the proofs which pointed at him being suspicious all this time.

Don’t cry, don’t cry. Don’t you dare to slip even a single tear, MC!

“I have always known, but I didn’t want it to be true.” I slowly lift my gaze down, looking at the grass or Richy’s feet, I don’t know. I don’t want to look at him in the eyes. My mind is totally blank or even completely full until it stops processing. I don’t know anymore. “You were leading us on all this time.” I remember how he was so cooperative about everything; he even stayed to our investigation about Man Without A Face, he even talked to Phil about his rude comments of Hannah, he answered all of my questions about Hannah’s car, he…

“All the threatening calls…?”

I suddenly realised with all the creepy calls and video-calls I have received, those scary distorted voice and ugly mask—those calls are from Richy, the one who I thought is my friend. How he attacked Jessy and innocently look after her after he attacked Jessy that night. I understand how he marked himself, but Jessy? Who knows if he tampered Dan’s car like he did to the group’s cars? I lift my gaze and glare at him; my eyes are full with resentment and disappointment. “How dare you do this to us?” with clenching my knuckles, I can sense my blood is boiling because of the rage is filling in every cell of me. Richy Rogers, you are so fucked up.

“MC, please let me explain..” I snort hearing his voice. The sentence he just said is disgustingly funny in my ears. What else should he explains after the last story he just told is already a dropped bombshell in this sickening situation? Not to mention how he exposed himself as the perpetrator all along already dropped me down to the deepest ground of the earth. I should just leave from this place and call the police; let them to catch this douche bag in front of me.

But I didn’t. I close both of my eyes and take a deep breath. I open my eyes then slowly lift it to look at Richy. I’m going to regret this later but still… “Please explain,” I shouldn’t do this. “I need to understand.” This is stupid decision.

“I hadn’t thought of the accident for a long time until Hannah came to the garage one day. Her oil slump was broken because she had driven into a pothole.” His explanation reminds me with that time when I talked to him because of the Rogers’ Garage number is on Hannah’s phone list on the day she is missing.

“So, at least the thing about the oil sump wasn’t a lie.” I retort.

“No, it wasn’t. I noticed immediately that there was something wrong with her. But she didn’t want to say what it was.” His expression is showing his mind is wandering around, I don't know where but I feel like he's not exactly here right now.

“She excluded you even though it affected you, too.” I curl my brows, thinking hard what is the reason behind Hannah’s decision?

“She did. And I would have probably just left it at that. If I hadn’t seen Amy in Hannah’s car before she turned into my driveway. That worried me.”

“I suppose you weren’t in contact with Amy since the accident which is why the others thought Hannah didn’t know her.”

“That’s right. So I took a look at Hannah’s satnav…” I snort; I remember when Jessy told me that Richy said to her there is nothing in Hannah’s satnav. “The address in the satnav was that of Iris Hanson and then I knew that my worries were justified. I drove to Amy and she told me everything, Hannah found that bracelet and then she suddenly saw figure by the edge of the woods.”

I frown after hearing the last sentence. “So, it really was just her imagination?”

“He never existed, MC. I knew it was a time. We had run away from it for long enough—”

“You bet, it’s 10 years already…” I thought I was talking to myself but he didn’t speak anymore and instead tilt his head and looking at me. I think I just cut off his self-advocacy. “So, you went to the police?” I ask, or accuse? I don’t know which one.

“I told Amy we should finally turn ourselves in but she didn’t want to hear about it. She said Hannah was only imagining the Man Without A Face and that she just wanted to forget everything. So I made sure Amy would see him too.”

I laugh desperately, the mental image of Amy’s letter that I just found out in that strange room is popping out in my brain. This is much way fucked up that I have imagined it is. “But it didn’t go the way you planned, yes? Amy killed herself because of your brilliant acting skill.” He didn’t answer me immediately, I’m not sure but I think his expression somehow scares the shit of me. In the glimpse of time, I cannot recognise the man in front of me anymore.

“Then, what about Hannah? Why did you kidnap her?” I ask, even though I’m not sure if I want to hear the answer.

“When I found Amy, her phone suddenly rang and it was Hannah. She left a voice mail and I listened to it, she said she had something to go against her pursuer. Something about her had set up a camera, so she must have filmed me with it.” He explains it with flat tone, his eyes are growing darker.

“So, that’s why you kidnap her?” I clench my knuckles, biting inside of my cheeks.

“I got scared,” he takes a pause. “I was… overwhelmed by the situation, and one thing lead to another.”

And that’s when I left all of my ability to tolerate this stupid thing behind. I’m rushing toward him with the form of fists on both of my hands. I jump to him like an animal and grip his hooded jacket with both of my hands, pushing him to the ground forcedly with the weight of my body; I don’t care if I don’t look like a decent human-being anymore. “One thing lead to another, you said? That’s why you marked Jessy? That’s why you attacked her? That’s why!?” I can sense the heat around my neck to my face, probably the blood is rushing around me because of my rage is exploding.

“I did it because I had to prove it couldn’t have been Phil!” he scream the answer in front of my face, despite the lacking of light surround us, I still can see his face is also as red as the roses.

“Who the hell knows if I should believe all of your saying!? Did you tamper Dan’s car too!?” I’m still on top of him with grasping his jacket tightly; my hands are hurting because of it. Ah, I hate this. I can tell you that I will cry in the next second, my eyes are watery enough right now.

“I swear I didn’t do it! I told you his car is fine!” he is trying to let me go off from him, but I think I’m too strong and heavy for him. Lucky me, I guess.

“Did you expect me to believe you anymore, you traitor!? Why did you ask me to come here all alone? Did you want to kidnap or even kill me for being here just by myself!?” I ask him with the sharp tone, venting out all the frustration inside me.

And that’s when I misjudged he barely hard to push me off from him because I thought I’m too strong and heavy, but right now he easily shove me off and put me in the ground instead. His hands right now are wrapping around my neck, squeezing it tight until I’m hardly breathing. I’m looking him in the eyes; this is jumping out of my skin. I didn’t expect that Richy Rogers, the man that I thought is my new friend, is trying to strangle me with the death stare on his eyes like he really want to kill me right now.

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[vitaminpop]

❤️💙💛

[peachyhours]

nct dream yandere reactions when they suddenly raise their voice and hurt their s/o unintentionally 🥺🥺🥺

Yandere!Nct Dream reaction when they raise their voice and hurt they s/o unintentionally

A/N :: Thank you for your request, hope you like it! 🤍

♡ Mark

This time again you were scared for your life, you had disobeyed Mark and even if it was not a big mistake you still were very scared because he had spent an awful day so his mood was even worse than usual and it wasn't entirely your fault. "Why did you touch that?! I told you it was dangerous and it could hurt you!" The thing was you were cleaning around the house and you accidentally hurt yourself with one of his knives. The wound wasn't really important but he was truly scared that it could have been worst. He approached you after calming down, seeing you were scared that he might punish you. He hold your hand where was the cut and he cleaned the injury and put a bandage on it. "Please don't do that again, I don't want to accidentally hurt you with one of the knives I own."

♡ Renjun

This was a norm in your relationship, constantly arguing about various stuff, mainly nothing too serious, but this one time it was a little more extreme than the regular arguments you two had. He was angry with you because he thought you were talking to another guy. In the middle of him shouting at the top of his lungs and flinging his hands around trying to make his point he accidentally hit your arm causing you to frown in pain. You gripped your arm, the pain shooting through your arm wasn’t the only reason for you wanting to cry, it was mainly shock that caused you to release a tear. As soon as he saw the tear that ran done your redden cheek he instantly pull you into him wiping away the escaped tear softly kissing the top of your head apology after apology spilling from his lips. He knew it wasn’t intentional but it still hurt him to know that he was the cause of your pain. “Oh my god I’m so sorry y/n, you know I would never intentional hurt you”

♡ Jeno

You recently started getting bullied at school and you told Jeno about it because he noticed that something was off and you had many bruises everytime you got back home. So he asked you about it but you wouldn't tell him because you know he was gonna hurt the people who did that to you. So one day he secretly followed you to school to see what was happening there. It was during the afternoon break that he saw on the ground with a small group of guys around you. He came closer to see what was happening "Hey! What are you doing?!" The bullies just looked at him and laughed. As he was about to slap one of them in the face you get up and put yourself between them to stop the fight, but it was too late and Jeno's hand ended on your cheek. "Oh! I'm sorry I didn't want to hurt you.." You run away to escape this embarrassing scene. He tried running after you but decided to let you alone for a bit and to check on you when you calmed down.

♡ Haechan

Haechan would be in total shock, not knowing what to do nor believing what he had just done. The scene that occurred no less than a mintute ago replaying in his head making him instantly regretting ever arguing with you in the first place, you two were cuddled on the couch watching re-runs of your favourite show when his phone buzzed, it was a sketchy text message from his ex-girlfriend, you saw the message and curiously inquired about it, in no time you two were on your feet having a heated argument which lead to you on the floor in tears holding your injured arm caused by him brushing past you to roughly as he was trying to leave causing you to hit your hip at the corner of the table. He immediately stopped dead in his tracks as he heard you fall to the floor with soft sobs escaping your trembling lips. Realization finally hitting him, he rushed to your side on the floor cradling you in his arms hesitantly rubbing your hip to sooth the pain.

“……I’m sorry y/n……I…I didn’t mean to hurt you it was an accident”

♡ Jaemin

"I'm tired of you! You always bring me problem because you don't listen to me!" This time again you disobeyed and Jaemin had to handle this. You could clearly see that he had enough of you and your mistakes. So you were sitting on the couch arguing with Jaemin who is usually so sweet and attentionate with you. He was screaming at the top of his lungs and you were really terrified. "I CAN'T SUPPORT YOU ANYMORE, WHY ARE YOU LIKE THAT?" You suddenly got up to say something but he stopped you "DON'T YOJ DARE SAYING SOMETHING TO JUSTIFY YOU AND ACTING LIKE IT'S MY FAULT AND I'M THE MEAN ONE" he said before slapping you in the face. You looked at him in shock, touching your cheek. He immediately stopped realizing he went too far. Tears started to fall down your cheeks, and you run away from the house, slamming the door behind you. Jaemin sat down "What have I done..."

♡ Chenle

In the middle of the night Chenle wake up hearing noise coming from the kitchen, as he opens his eyes, he turned around to see if you were still sleeping but you were not here he started to get worried that you might have escaped or someone could have kidnapped you. He grabbed the first thing he saw to defend himself and went downstairs. He didn't want to make a noise to surprise the stealer. When he arrives in the kitchen he bumped into someone and the person fell on the floor. He quickly turned on the lights. When he saw you on the ground he got angry "Y/N WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I THOUGHT YOU WERE IN DANGER! I could have hurt you!" He violently grabbed your wrist to bring you back in bed. You let out a little noise to show him that he was hurting you. He looked back at you "Oh! I'm sorry I didn't mean to grab you that hard, I was the really worried for you" he said after hugging you.

♡ Jisung

"Jisung really I can't believe you!" You slammed the door as your anger got stronger. "It's not my fault, I literally did nothing wrong! It's him who was flirting with you!!" Jisung and you usually don't have fights over these kind of things, he's not the type to be excessively jealous. But this time he was really mad at you for letting a guy "flirt with you" as he said. "JISUNG THAT'S MY COUSIN" , and yes that guy wasn't hitting on you, he was just one of your cousin that you haven't seen in a long time. "I'M SURE YOUR LYING BECAUSE YOU WANT TO CHEAT ON ME!" he said as he punched violently the table. His movement made you flinch and fall on the floor. His expression softens instantly and he saw your face frown because of the pain. He carefully approached you but you moved back in fear he might hurt you. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to scare you and I promise I won't hurt you..." You felt his voice shaking and his eyes started to get watery, he truly regretted his acts so you hugged him to make sure he doesn't feel too guilty about it.

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Feels Like Home (Frank Castle)

Pairing: Frank Castle X Single Mom!Reader

Summary: first part of a potential series. You're a single mom who works at a bar. Frank stumbles upon that bar. Something draws you in to each other. So after he stands up for you can't help but invite him for a drink. Inspired by S2ep1 of the punisher.

Warnings: Drinking, some harassment (not from Frank), some bar fighting, typical canonical violence, cursing. Nothing too major yet

WC: 2.6k

A/N: so this is the start of a potential series that was inspired by the short storyline Frank had with that bartender. I thought it was pretty cute, so I decided to write a miniseries inspired by it. Chances are this will be a huge flop, but I'm used to it, so, we'll see. And to anyone who does read this enjoy

Reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated!

Home. It felt like a foreign concept now. He barely remembered what that felt like. It had been a long time. He didn't know if his home was in the middle of a war God knows where, or if it was where his family was, wherever that was. He guessed now the closest thing he had to a home was his van. He didn't have one thing or other. Maybe that's why he felt the constant need for chaos. At that point the only constant in his life was the blood, the bullets and the chaos of it all. But then again maybe he needed to find peace, whatever that meant. For now that meant driving across half of the country to multiple states, wherever the nearest gas stop would make him stop at. He would stay for a day or two, whatever gave him enough time to get a drink and breakfast and then he would be on his way. Over and over again. That felt right for now. Nobody knew who he was wherever he went, so that gave him some peace, not having to constantly watch his back and be on defense mode. He could relax, for a little while at least.

Frank didn't exactly know where he was, but he didn't care, as long as it was far away from New York. At least nobody would call him The Punisher here. He hoped at least. It was late, maybe past 11 pm, but he wasn't tired. He could use a drink, he thought. Yeah, he should go for a drink. Shit maybe he could get drunk and give his mind a break from the constant chaos in it, even if it was for a few hours. He walked in the bar, he looked around, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but it was surprisingly neat, definitely nowhere near as sketchy as some of the bars he had gone to in New York. He noticed there was live music, which he thought was a nice touch. He could probably have a few drinks and enjoy the music from a distance. That was the hope anyway, with him peace never really lasted long.

It wasn’t often that you saw new faces here, I mean, usually you saw the same few faces stumble into the bar a couple of times a week, you could say you knew a lot of people by what they drank. So when you spotted a new face, that person would always spike your interest. Even if it was just out of pure curiosity. This time was no different. When a tall, dark haired man you didn’t really recognize sat at the bar, your curiosity peaked. You saw him out of the corner of your eye as you were mixing a drink for somebody. You were surprised by the fact that the man stayed silent and patiently waited for you to be done. I mean shit, with the stiffness of his shoulders and the hard expression on his face you expected him to start demanding a drink. But no, he just sat there, quietly.

It took you a minute, but you eventually got to him. You shot him your typical polite customer service smile, “Sorry for making you wait, it’s just me tonight,” You chuckled softly, wiping down the surface of the bar with a cloth you left there. He shook his head dismissively. “Well what can I get ya?”

“Just a beer please. Thank you.” His voice was deep and gruff, with a bit of raspiness to it. It definitely matched the hard expression on his face. Surprisingly, he seemed approachable, like he would welcome a conversation, but wasn’t looking for one. You saw that a lot.

“Here you go hun.” You smiled politely and placed the bottle in front of him. You heard him mutter a quiet ‘thank you’ before you walked away, your presence being not so subtly summoned by a pair of drunk jackasses that had been on your ass for hours. Just a few more hours you thought.

“You guys should take it easy over here.” You commented to the group of men as you poured them their fourth, or maybe fifth round of shots. One of them scoffed loudly and gave you a dirty look. Here we go.

“Why don’t you mind your business and just keep pouring shots huh? Or it’s coming out of your tip.” He laughed mockingly, the other two friends joining in. You stared at them with a blank face, blinking a couple of times in disbelief. You had to bite the inside of your cheek and simply nodded, plastering the fakest smile you could pull before turning around to walk away, but not before hearing a ‘bitch’ being muttered behind you, but it wasn’t exactly quiet.

“Wow.” You exhaled to yourself, shaking your head, not bothering to turn around. Frank had his head in your direction, he was looking at you like he probably heard the exchange, but didn’t want to say anything that would antagonize you further. His brown eyes simply burned into you as you aggressively wiped down the bar, scoffing and shaking your head to yourself.

“Could I bother you with another beer when you get the chance?” Frank asked quietly, slightly lifting the empty bottle in front of him. You lifted your eyes and met his own, he had this very tiny smile, like he was trying to be nice but didn’t know how to show it. You blew out a small breath and nodded.

“Of course,” You half smiled, grabbed a bottle from the cooler underneath the bar and placed it in front of him. “Do you want to open a tab?”

“Nah, that’s okay. Thank you.” He nodded at you, taking a sip of his beer. You nodded before you resumed harshly wiping down the bar, like that would relieve some of your pent up frustrations of that night. But you looked up when you heard Frank speak again. “I wouldn’t mind ‘em. They’re probably just a bunch of drunk assholes. And I take it you see that shit a lot.”

“You got no idea, man.” You exhaled heavily and shook your head. “I hope you aren’t one of those that get drunk and start causing me trouble.” You raised an eyebrow, giving him a suspicious look.

“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout me. I’m enjoyin' the good music and the beer, I don’t wanna cause any trouble.” He chuckled dryly and shook his head dismissively.

“Hope not. I don’t like when men I’ve never seen before come into my bar to start shit.” You slightly narrowed your eyes a bit playfully, leaning over the bar. “Because I’ve neer seen you around here, so I’m guessing you are new in town.”

“Very intuitive I see,” he chuckled, taking a sip of his half empty beer and nodded. “You’re right. I’m just passing by, but I'm hittin' the road tomorrow so, I promise I won’t start any shit.” He slightly raised his hands up in surrender. You couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“Good,” you smiled, your gaze meeting his for a few seconds. And and way he looked at you gave you chills. It was like he was trying to read you, and the way his deep brown eyes burned into your own made it feel as so. You however, could not read a single thing behind his eyes, it was weird really, you could see some much behind his eyes and yet you could make out so little. You didnt have time to analyze him further, and the smile on your lips quickly fell into a flat line when you heard the same drunk jackass from before call you over. You glanced at the group for a second before you looked at Frank again and simply shook your head before going over to them.

“What can I get you?” You asked with a quiet sigh, but they were probably too drunk to hear the irritation in your voice.

“Another round of shots,” the one that had called you a bitch said. You simply nodded, turning to pour the drinks. “You should pour one for yourself, drink with me.”

“Sure, I’ll have it later.” You said simply with a dry tone in your voice as you poured the shots of vodka they were having. Yeah absolutely not.

“Why don’t you have it now, doll? I want you to drink with me now.” He sounded more urgent and a bit more aggressive. Yeah, you hated when this happened.

“Sorry man, I don’t drink when I’m working. I can’t be drunk pouring other drunks shots.” You shrugged it off, turning around to walk away when you finished pouring the shots, but you felt a harsh tug on your wrist.

“I don’t think you heard me right, doll, I’m paying. And I’m paying you to drink with me now.” The guy’s voice got lower as he gripped your wrist tight enough to bruise. You stared at him with narrowed eyes and pursed your lips as you tried to tug your arm away. “C’mon, you know you want to, you've been looking at me ever since I got here.”

“I don’t get paid to drink with customers. And I certainly don’t want to drink with you. Now let go of my goddamn arm.” You glared, huffing softly when he wouldn’t let go. The man was about to speak but a deep and raspy voice caught his and your attention.

“Hey buddy,” It was Frank. Once again he had seen the whole exchange go down, and if he didn’t intervene last time he sure as well was going to now. He slightly knocked on the bar to get the guy’s attention and stared at him with a deep frown. “How is she gonna pour shots with you grabbin' her arm like that? C’mon, let go.”

The guy mumbled some response under his breath and wouldn’t budge, but quickly let go of your arm when Frank stood up to his full height, broad and tense shoulders making him seem even bigger than he actually was. The guy let go of your wrist with a huff. You glared at him as you walked away, slightly rubbing your wrist.

“You alright?” Frank asked, looking at you with a slightly softer expression. You simply nodded and half smiled, a bit surprised by his sudden concern. He smiled at you, it was brief and very subtle, but he did. But then he looked back at the guy, his expression turning hard again. “Just let the lady work alright? There are plenty other women here that aren’t workin’.” He shook his head and leaned against the bar, facing ahead, hoping that would be the end of it. He really hoped he didn’t have to beat somebody up tonight. But then maybe he wouldn’t complain if he had to.

“I didn’t even want to fuck that bitch anyway. I was gonna do her a favor.”

“Real classy man. Jesus Christ.” Frank scoffed, glancing at the guy again with a tight jaw and a raised eyebrow. Frank figured the guy was now going to turn his aggressive drunk energy to him instead. Good, he needed to break some bones tonight anyway, it had been a while.

“You say something man?” The guy huffed, slightly puffing up his chest as he approached Frank, who was still calmly leaning against the bar, facing forward with his hands folded in front of himself military style. Just give a reason man, just one, he thought.

“Yeah.”

“You’re just giving me a reason to beat your ass man.” The man huffed, getting a bit too close to Frank for his own safety. Frank hadn’t moved though, he just chuckled dryly and nodded.

“That right?” He chuckled mockingly, probably pissing the guy off even more. Frank felt a shove, but he didn’t move, instead the tension in his shoulders spread to the rest of his body. He exhaled heavily and pushed himself off the bar, now facing the guy, who was much shorter than him. Not that it mattered, Frank could still break every bone in his body whether he was six feet or seven feet tall.

“Dipshit, I’m gonna show you how to mind your business.” The guy continued to push his luck and shoved Frank again. Well so much for a peaceful night he guessed. The second Frank felt the guy’s hand on his shoulder, he grabbed the wrist and twisted it in a direction wrists weren’t supposed to rotate.

“Ya like that?” Frank huffed, bending the guy’s arm behind his back and slammed him against the bar, twisting until he felt the bone strain. Frank smirked lightly, about to twist the guy’s arm all the way when he started to cry out in pain, sputtering curse words and pleads for Frank to stop. He didn’t want to though, maybe breaking the guy’s arm would show him how to respect women. Frank stopped regardless, when he heard your voice.

“That’s enough. He’s drunk, and you said you wouldn’t start shit, so c’mon., break it up.” You finally spoke up, the scene in front of you now starting to gather attention. You caught Frank’s attention, he looked up at you with a frown written deep on his face and he clenched his jaw. He was very tempted to just break the guy’s arm then let him go, but he saw the way you were looking at him, there was something about the look in your eyes that made him stop. He shoved the guy forward as he let him go with a huff. “Can somebody get this guy out of here please.”

“I’m sorry ‘bout that.” Frank muttered as he watched the guy get dragged out by a bouncer, the other friends following close behind. He looked at you and you simply sighed, running a hand over your forehead and you shook your head.

“Got a name, tough guy?” You asked with a soft breath and a raised eyebrow.

“Uhm…” Frank bit his lip softly, still not getting in the habit of not being able to introduce himself as, well, himself, so he sighed out, “Pete.”

“Well Pete, I didn’t need saving. He was just a drunk asshole, and like you said I see that shit a lot.” You leaned on one of your heels, tilting your head as you grabbed another beer from the cooler and placed it in front of him, knowing he didn’t ask you for it, but gave it to him anyway.

“I don't doubt it. But maybe I just don’t like assholes.” Frank shrugged with a small smile, nodding at you as he grabbed the beer and took a swig of it.

“Are you sure you aren’t one of those assholes Pete?”

“I try not to be, most days I am, not tonight.” He chuckled, digging through his back pocket and pulled out a $10 bill. He placed it on the bar and nodded. “That’s for you.”

“Don’t worry, it’s on me. For not being an asshole tonight.” You smiled, noticing the hesitant look he gave you, but you simply nodded again, sliding the bill back to him. “If you decide to not be an asshole tomorrow, I could buy you a drink when I’m done here. Enjoy the live music too, I’ve heard it’s pretty good.”

“I uh,” Frank bit his lip, slightly tapping the side of his bottle. He was supposed to leave first thing tomorrow morning. This was just supposed to be another town he would leave in the rear view. But the way you were looking at him, smiling at him, made him think that maybe another night here wouldn’t hurt him. He had nowhere to go, what was one more night? “I think maybe I’ll take you up on that.”

“Good.” You smiled, but heard someone on the other end of the bar call you, so you turned to walk that way, but stopped when you heard Frank speak again.

“So if I come tomorrow night and I don’t find you, who should I ask for? Should I ask for the bartender with the pretty eyes or do I get a name?” Frank asked with a soft smirk tugging the corner of his lips. Maybe he still had some of that charm somewhere buried within himself. But he knew he definitely made you flustered judging by the way you looked down and smiled.

“Y/N, you can ask for Y/N, I’ll be here.”

Shit, maybe he did have somewhere to go. He could stay here for tonight, and maybe tomorrow night, because at least now he knew that if he came here, he could find someone that had that bright look in her eyes that he could look forward to, even if it was for a night.

[labomi]

a demon’s promise | (18+)

summary: You didn't want to spend your Friday night trying to summon the king of all demons in your tiny apartment, but here you are with your best friend by your side reciting an incantation from a strange book. To your utter relief, the spell doesn't work or so you seem to think.

pairing: sukuna ryomen x f!reader

words: 4.2k

warnings: explicit sexual content, slight dubcon, smut, explicit language, choking, overstimulation, rough sex, pet names, not a particularly happy ending

notes: read on ao3 here! first sukuna piece and i don’t have much to say except aahhhhh!! i initially planned it to be more of a cute, fluffy story but obviously that didn’t happen oops. well anyways thanks for reading!

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” you ask hesitantly, watching your best friend finish drawing a pentagram on your living room floor. Kimi dusts the chalk off her fingers, admiring her work with a satisfied smile.

“Oh, come on,” she says, a little exasperated at you. “Don’t bail on me now. Aren’t you the tiniest bit excited?”

“About summoning a demon from a weird book you found in the back of a sketchy thrift shop? Yea, I’m absolutely thrilled,” you deadpan.

It was about a week ago when Kimi surprised you with her new find. The book was bound in torn leather and filled with handwritten notes about how to conjure the supernatural on ink stained, wrinkled pages. It certainly looked old, but you couldn’t help but think it was a scam. Some kid might have decided to replicate the look and feel of an ancient book, filling it with absolute nonsense that your best friend was clearing falling for. 

Unfortunately, once Kimi had gotten a hold of this book, she would not shut up about it. For the past week, you tried your best to feign interest in her new obsession as she flipped through pages, oohing and aahing at the sketches and descriptions of different types of demons. They ranged from little mischievous creatures to incubi and succubi and even a terrifying being that ate the souls of its prey.

For the most part, you think the book is absolutely absurd, but you can't ignore the tiny voice in your head that is just a little terrified about the potential existence of demons. Kimi had begged you nonstop to try one of the spells. You were hesitant and initially said no, but she kept begging you over and over again. Eventually you gave in because she was your best friend, and she was clearly excited about trying out the book with you. There is no harm in humoring her a little, right?

Kimi finishes lighting the five candles that surround the pentagram as you place a small bowl in the center.

“Alright!” Kimi says, clapping her hands. She looks at the open spell book next to her, double checking the instructions. “The only thing left is a drop of human blood.” Kimi looks at you expectantly.

You blink and point a finger at yourself. “Me?” you squeak. “But isn’t this your idea?”

“But you know how squeamish I get about pain and blood! Pretty pretty pleaassee,” your best friend begs.

You sigh. “Alright, alright. You owe me big time for this. Hand me the knife.” Kimi happily gives you the small knife that you had grabbed earlier from the kitchen. Scrunching your face, you make a tiny little cut on your index finger and squeeze one drop of blood into the bowl. You suck on your finger, hoping it would scab over quickly. “Ok, now what?”

Kimi turns the page. “Now we just have to say this incantation together. Come here.” You scoot over to sit next to your friend as she holds the book between the two of you. Together, you both recite the words scribbled down on the crumbled page.

You wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And nothing happens.

“Umm,” you break the awkward silence. “Nothing happened.”

“No, this can’t be right.” Kimi groans and starts aggressively flipping through the pages. “We followed the instructions exactly. It should have worked!”

Part of you feels relieved. You weren’t particularly thrilled about inviting the supernatural into your tiny apartment on a Friday night. Now you’re more convinced that the book really is a fake.

“What were we supposed to summon anyway?” you ask, a little curious.

Kimi frowns, still re-reading the instructions. “A creature named Sukuna Ryomen. Apparently he’s the king of all demons.”

Your mouth falls open in shock. “What the fuck, Kimi? The king? You chose to summon the king of all demons? What were you thinking? I thought we were going to summon those harmless creatures that steal people’s left socks or something like that!”

Kimi huffs. “Well, I did ask you what we should summon, but you said you didn’t care and that I should pick something. So I did!”

You rub your temples, trying to keep calm. “You’re right, you’re right. My bad. I’m sorry.” You could tell that Kimi is already quite upset that the spell didn’t work, and you were just adding fuel to the fire. “Hey! It’s ok. Let’s just take the rest of the night off. I’ll clean everything up, don’t worry about it. And listen, maybe we can try a different spell next week. Perhaps there’s not enough spiritual energy in this room or something to summon the big guy.”

Kimi perks up a little at your words. “We can try again next week? Really?”

You nod. “Promise. Take the book back to your place and choose something a little bit more tame, ok?”

Kimi giggles. “Ok, I promise too!” She grabs the book and carefully places it in her bag before getting up and heading towards the door. You follow her and give her a quick hug.

“Talk to you tomorrow,” you say.

“Yep! Good night!”

Once Kimi leaves your apartment, you let out a deep breath. You survey the mess on your living room floor with a frown. You truly love your best friend to death, but she’s just a little too adventurous for your tastes sometimes.

A sudden wave of lethargy washes over you, causing you to lean against your kitchen counter for support. You rub your eyes, struggling to keep them open as your eyelids start to feel unusually heavy. 

Weird.

It isn’t particularly late, so you are a bit surprised to feel so tired out of the blue. You figure the excitement of tonight’s activities likely got the best of you, so you decide to retire early for the night. Walking into the living room, you blow out all the candles around the pentagram before retreating into your bedroom. You will clean up everything tomorrow. No harm in letting it sit out for the night.

---

You wake up with a start. The darkness of your bedroom greets you. Groaning, you grab your phone in order to check the time but it was dead. You silently curse at yourself for forgetting to charge it before passing out. You lean back in your bed with a sigh. Normally, you sleep through the night undisturbed. You briefly wonder what had woken you up. 

Crash!

You instantly freeze and hold your breath. The noise came from the living room. It sounded like something had fallen. You try to calm your racing heart as you convince yourself that it was just one of your decorations falling off the wall. But you know you won’t be able to comfortably go back to sleep without checking, so you quietly slip out of bed and open your bedroom door. You peek into the living room, but you’re unable to make out anything clearly in the darkness. 

You fully step out of your bedroom and hit the light switch for the living room. Squinting your eyes, you try to adjust to the sudden brightness. Once your vision finally clears, you gasp. 

There’s someone in your living room.

The first thing you notice about the intruder is his tattoos. Intricate symbols mark his entire body, including his face.

The second thing you realize is that he’s completely naked.

You open your mouth to scream, but the intruder appears right in front of you within the blink of an eye and clamps his large hand over your mouth to shush you.

“Be quiet,” he growls deeply. “You can’t act so surprised. After all, you’re the one who called me here.”

You feel a chill crawl down your spine as your eyes widen in realization.

No. No. It can’t be.

Once the intruder is convinced you won’t start screaming, he removes his hand from your mouth. He stands back and takes in your appearance as you stand there numbly in your pajama shirt and shorts.

“A woman, huh.” He licks his lips. “I wasn’t expecting a woman to be the one to resurrect me, but I’m not complaining.”

This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening!

You try to convince yourself that you’re still dead asleep in your bed and dreaming about this entire encounter. There is no way that damn book actually worked!

“Ryomen Sukuna,” you whisper to yourself, suddenly recalling the name of the demon you tried to summon with Kimi.

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up. “Oh! You’ve heard of me!” He grins. “You should feel honored to be in the presence of the Great King of Demons.”

You shudder at his voice. There’s a certain aura of power, strength, and pure evil that you can feel radiating from the demon, but his appearance is still rather surprising. For the Great King of Demons, he looks rather...human. You could have easily mistaken him as a normal man who just really liked tattoos. No tail. No wings. No horns. Perhaps your view of demons was a bit outdated.

“I have to admit. I’m a little disappointed,” Sukuna says with a small frown, surveying his own body. “It seems you didn’t summon me correctly. My power is nowhere near what it should be, and it took me forever to spawn into this measly physical form. I normally have four arms and two faces.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head. Did he say four arms? And two faces?

The demon taps a finger on his chin in thought. “I did start off as a human before becoming a demon, so I guess it makes sense I’m reborn looking like a human at first.”

You silently thank your friend for messing up the ritual. If Sukuna had spawned immediately at full power, the two of you would have both been in danger. At least it’s only you in harm’s way. Kimi is safe and sound, far away from your tiny apartment.

“It’s ok,” Sukuna purrs, approaching you. “It doesn’t matter that you messed up the ritual a little. You can help me fix it now, pet.”

You stumble backwards, heart racing and body quivering in fear. He reaches out to place his hands on your shoulders, steadying you before pushing you against the wall. You instantly freeze, breath caught in your throat as you wonder what he’ll ask of you.

Sukuna lightly strokes your cheek with one hand. You want to recoil in fear and disgust, but your body remains frozen in horror.

“You haven’t noticed?” he asks. “It was your blood used in the summoning ritual. That means we are bonded.”

No. No.

Sukuna places two fingers underneath your chin and lifts them up so you look directly up into his eyes. You tremble uncontrollably as you meet his dark gaze.

“The way I regain my strength is by sucking the energy out of you. You might have noticed that you felt tired and sluggish after the ritual. That’s because the it took a lot of energy from you to give me a physical form. Don’t worry though, it’s not enough to kill you. But you are pretty weak, so it might take me awhile to regain my full strength.”

You gulp. The Great King of Demons at full strength? You know you have to prevent this from happening somehow, but your phone is dead, the book is gone, and Sukuna is not likely to let you leave his sight long enough for you to figure out a plan. Was it even possible to fight back against him? Maybe your best bet was to comply with his demands and hope he spares you.

“But there is a way to speed up the process.” He looks down at your body hungrily before leaning his head towards you until his lips hover over your left ear. “Sex,” he whispers huskily.

You stiffen slightly and try to ignore the spark that travels down your body and lights up your core.

“Wh-what do you mean?” you stammer nervously.

“I feed off your body’s energy, and everyone knows that there’s nothing more powerful than sexual energy. Sex gets your heart racing and blood pumping. It’s the perfect energy source for my complete resurrection.” Sukuna moves away from your ear and grins at your stricken face. “You are the one who summoned me here. It would be rude to not feed your guest and accommodate his needs.”

He places a thumb on your bottom lip, rubbing it back and forth. You try not to react, but your body won’t listen to you. Sukuna’s presence is overwhelming. His bare chest is practically pressed against your body. His eyes are dark with lust as he gazes at your face. His thumb continues to rub your lips which leaves you flustered. Your mind feels hazy, and your body feels unusually warm. A small, sane part of you tries to fight back. A little voice in your head reminds that this is the king of all demons. How could you fall for the literal embodiment of pure evil?

“I know you’re turned on,” Sukuna says smugly. You look away feeling absolutely mortified, but the demon grabs your head and forces you to look back at him. “Ah ah. Keep your eyes on me. No need to get embarrassed. Like I said before, I was resurrected from your blood, so we share a connection. This means I can feel your blood pumping in your own body, and I can tell exactly where it’s headed.” Sukuna drops his gaze down your body to emphasize his point. He doesn’t miss how your thighs suddenly clench together.

With a dangerous flash in his eyes, Sukuna hoists you over his shoulder and throws you on your bed. Before you could even think about saying no, Sukuna is on top of you harshly nipping and sucking at your neck. One hand is already underneath your shirt, fondling one of your breasts and playing with your hard nipple. He sucks at a particularly sensitive spot on your neck which leaves you moaning shamelessly underneath him. Any doubts or reservations immediately leave your mind. 

Your body feels like it’s on fire being this close to Sukuna. He chuckles darkly, leaving your neck and pulling out his hand from underneath your skirt. “That’s my good pet,” he purrs. “So eager just for me.” Sukuna kisses you roughly, leaving you gasping as you try to match his fervor. Eventually he leans back and admires how swollen your lips look after his harsh treatment. Your pupils are blown wide with lust. With Sukuna’s face hovering just above yours, you can’t help but admire his unique markings. Without realizing, you reach a hand out and start tracing the lines on his cheek. Sukuna stills for a moment, enjoying your tender touch. 

The moment of gentleness shatters when Sukuna rips open your shirt with his bare hands. He immediately latches onto one of your breasts with his mouth and roughly gropes the other. You grip the back of his head, digging your fingers in his short hair. He bites down a little too sharply on your nipple, causing you to yelp in slight pain. Sukuna lightly chuckles at your reaction and finally pulls away, giving your now sore breasts a break. He suddenly flips your positions so that you are now hovering over him as his back hits the bed.

You stare at his chiseled chest and can’t resist rubbing your hands up and down his prominent muscles. Sukuna observes you with an amused look as you openly admire his body. 

“You like what you see?” he smirks.

You ignore the question and begin peppering light kisses down his chest and over his abs. The demon hums, enjoying your soft touch all over his body. However, he eventually has enough of your teasing. He pushes your head down until you’re forced to look at something you’ve tried to avoid glancing at the entire night. Your heart flutters with a little nervousness as you’re greeted with Sukuna’s dick. It’s long and thick with just the slightest curve. You wonder how you’re going to be able to handle his impressive size.

Sukuna can sense your hesitation, so he decides to give you a little push. He grabs your hair roughly and brings your face closer to his throbbing dick. “Be a good girl and open wide.” With a shaky breath, you take the tip of Sukuna’s cock into your mouth. He’s so thick that you can barely fit him in your mouth. With the demon’s hand still on your head, he coaxes you take him in deeper and you oblige. Sukuna groans as your hot, wet mouth takes more and more of his length. You look so good with your lips wrapped around his cock. 

You start to bob your head up and down to Sukuna’s delight, but he’s rather annoyed at your languid pace. “Too slow,” he growls and that’s the only warning you get before the demon jerks his hips up sharpy. You gag as his dick hits the back of your throat, but Sukuna's firm grasp on your head keeps you in place. He tightens his grip and then begins to roughly thrust into your mouth. You try to relax your throat and keep your composure even as tears start to fall from your eyes as the demon ruthlessly fucks your face.

“You feel so good,” Sukuna groans. “You were made to take my dick.” A particularly rough thrust leaves you gagging again and drooling all over his cock. “Fuck yea, just like that.”

Once the demon is satisfied, he releases his grip on your hair and you immediately pull back to catch your breath. You wipe the spit from your mouth and the tears from your eyes, panting heavily from the rough treatment. Sukuna silently admires the way your breasts look against your heaving chest.

“Take the rest of your clothes off,” he demands. You shakily get off the bed and shimmy out of your pajama shorts. As you roll down your underwear, Sukuna doesn’t miss how it’s already drenched with your arousal. As you climb back on the bed, Sukuna roughly places you underneath him once again. He spreads open your legs and presses a finger against your entrance to test your wetness.

“Damn,” Sukuna growls. “You’re this wet from choking on my cock.” You moan in relief as you finally feel some friction against your throbbing core. “A good little whore just for me.”

The demon strokes your folds at a leisurely pace which drives you insane. You unconsciously grind against his hand, silently begging him to pick up the tempo, but Sukuna just chuckles and continues to tease you. He barely brushes your swollen clit with each stroke, causing you to whine in frustration.

“Please,” you whimper.

Sukuna raises his eyebrows with a smirk. “Please what?” He suddenly stops his ministrations to your immediate displeasure.

You bite your lip feeling slightly embarrassed, but you decide to swallow whatever pride you have left. “T-touch me. I want to feel you. I n-need to feel you.”

“Only because you asked so sweetly,” Sukuna hums. He finally rubs his thumb over your throbbing clit, and you immediately cry out as pleasure wracks your body. The demon’s touch becomes faster and rougher, leaving you a writhing mess underneath him. Just as you’re about to hit your climax, Sukuna pulls away and you can’t stop the frustrated whine that leaves your mouth. He strokes his dick amused by your reaction and leans down to whisper in your ear. “Wouldn’t it feel better to cum around my cock? Come on. Tell me that’s what you want, pet.”

The fire between your legs only grows as you listen to his words. Desperate for any sort of release, you beg for Sukuna’s cock. “P-please fuck me. I need your dick so badly. Please please please.”

Sukuna answers your pleas by lining his cock against your sopping entrance before pushing into you in one go. You groan at the slight burn as your walls stretch around his wide girth, but you’re so wet he manages to slide his entire length into you without much resistance. Once he’s fully sheathed, the feeling is completely overwhelming. You feel absolutely stuffed to the brim with his giant cock pulsing inside you.

“Oh my god,” you breath. “You’re so big. Fuck.”

Sukuna doesn’t give you much chance to adjust to his size as he immediately pulls out until only his tip remains before ramming back into you at full force. You yelp at the sudden movement, while the demon softly groans. He sets a brutal pace that leaves you absolutely breathless. With every snap of his hips, you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Your toes curl in pleasure, and you rake your nails down his muscular back as the demon fucks you senseless.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Sukuna growls as you continue to moan and whimper wantonly underneath him. When the head of his cock hits that sensitive spot inside you at just the right angle, the tension in your body finally snaps and a wave of pleasure completely washes over you. You cry out as you reach your climax, squeezing your eyes shut as you surrender yourself to the sensations of pure bliss.

Once you start to come down from your high, Sukuna pulls out of you and adjusts your body so that you’re on your hands and knees. Your arms are still quivering from your orgasm but you have just enough strength to keep yourself from collapsing. Both you and Sukuna groan as he enters you once again. He somehow fucks you even harder than before. The lewd, wet noises of your bodies slamming against one of another fill the bedroom. Sukuna grips your waist with such force as he slams into you over and over again that you know you’ll wake up with nasty bruises tomorrow. In this position, it feels like his cock is pushing even deeper inside you at such a brutal pace.

“You going to cum on my cock again?” Sukuna pants. He slaps your ass, and you squeak at the unexpected sting. “Answer the question, pet.” He gives you another slap.

“Oh god, yes,” you gasp as your cunt clenches around him. “F-fuck. Your cock feels s-so good.” Satisfied with your answer, Sukuna reaches around to rub your clit. It was just the right amount of extra stimulation you needed to reach your climax again. Your body shudders as you lose yourself to the white hot pleasure. Sukuna pulls out of you, and you immediately collapse on the bed.

“Who said we were done yet, pet?” The demon picks you up and places you on top of him as he lays back on the bed. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck as your hard nipples rub against his chest. You can feel his still erect cock poking at your entrance. “I want to watch your face as I fill you up with my cum.” 

You wince as he slips back into you. You’re already starting to feel overstimulated and sore, but Sukuna hasn’t shown any signs of slowing down yet. He ruts into your limp body, only concerned about chasing his own pleasure.

You don’t think it’s possible for you to cum again, but Sukuna’s cock is continuing to hit all the right places. The pain from overstimulation only seems to egg you on further as you feel the familiar tension building within your body once again. Sukuna groans as your walls start to clench down on him. His thrusts become more erratic as he approaches his own release. 

As he continues to pound into you as you’re splayed across his chest, the demon tells you about all the humans he’ll kill once he’s at full power. Not even women or children will be safe from his destruction. He’ll lay siege to all Japan, perhaps even the world. Sukuna mentions how the golden age of demons will begin once again. 

You begin crying, but you can’t even tell if it’s from the overstimulation, the shame of letting him use you like this, or the guilt of bringing such a horrifying demon back to Earth. With one more rough thrust, you come undone again for the third time during the night. Sukuna follows right after you, pumping you full of his cum. There’s so much that you can already feel his seed leaking out of you.

Sukuna remains still, trying to catch his breath as you quietly sob against his chest. The demon rubs your head with surprising tenderness. 

“Don’t worry, pet. I promise I’ll spare you,” Sukuna says. “You’re mine now. No one else will ever touch you again.”

You hiccup through your tears as Sukuna’s words fill you with dread. It’s all your fault. He’s going to be reborn at full power and wipe out human civilization because of you. The guilt tears at your heart.

What have you done?

Sukuna can already feel his power returning to him. It’s only a matter of time before he’ll be unstoppable. Perhaps a couple of more days of indulging himself with your body will get the job done. He rubs your back, feeling how your sobs rack your body. Your tears only amuse him. Just another sign of how weak humans really are.

“Get ready for the new age, pet. And it’s all thanks to you.”

[wiypt-writes]

Guilty As Charged

Guilty As Charged: Bucky Barnes One Shot

Summary: Defence Attorney James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is the absolute bane of your life…

Pairing: Lawyer AU Bucky Barnes x Reader (Frenemies!)

Warnings: Bad language words.

Word Count- Under 2k

A/N:  This was originally posted on my old blog ages ago, but I’ve just given it a little polish and thought, seeing as I’m on the Bucky Train at the moment, I’d bring it back. Also, my knowledge on US Criminal Law is sketchy at best, so humour me…

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist // Main Masterlist

*******

In God We Trust, the words set about the Judge’s podium were fixed in your vision, motes of dust moving freely in the rays of sunlight which were streaming through the large, ornate windows of the court room and you took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, concentrating on expelling the nerves you were feeling with the air that left your mouth and lungs.

No matter how many times you were in this position, the reading of the verdict still got to you. Your gaze turned to the jury, as the judge did the same, that all important question ringing across the room, the air stiflingly tense.

“On the charge of murder in the first degree, do you find the defendant or not guilty"

“Not guilty.”

Fuck.

Cheers from the defendants family drowned out your loud groan as you rubbed at your temple. Looking over at your colleague, Sam, you shook your head in utter disbelief.

The judge continued through the remaining charges, second-degree murder and voluntary manslaughter, and your despair grew as the same verdict was returned for each.

You’d lost. And it stung, not merely because of your near perfect conviction rate, but for the family of the victim you were one-hundred percent convinced the accused.

"Y/N this wasn't your fault.” Sam stated in a low voice but you simply sighed again and shrugged.

"I was sure they'd see through his lies,” you glanced over to your right where the defence team, headed up by James Buchanan Barnes of Barnes and Rogers Law firm were shaking hand with each other and their defendant. Barnes' face was arranged in the usual smug look that you always had the urge to slap right off it. His partner, Steve, glanced over at you and gave you a genuine, sympathetic smile.

He’s always the most courteous out of the two, the one you actually didn’t mind dealing with when it came to cases.

"He fucking did it Y/N," Sam's voice was almost a growl, "I know he did."

"Well in the eyes of the law he didn’t." You stated, standing up.

The commotion continued behind you, as the defendant was told he was free to go. Making sure to keep your head down, you hastily shuffled your papers back into their respective files and packed your briefcase up. Picking up your jacket, you shrugged it on, smoothing down pencil skirt before you head to leave the courtroom before Barnes can pipe up with his usual smart ass quips. But you're not quite fast enough. "Commiserations Miss Y/LN, can't win em all." The familiar Brooklyn drawl hit your ears.

"Buck," Steve sighed "c'mon pal..."

You grit your teeth. You know you shouldn't rise to it, but you just can’t help it. The man is an utter jack ass in the courtroom. Spinning to face him, you shot him your best contemptuous glare, the one you always reserve for those people you really cannot stand, and looked at him like he was something you'd just trodden in.

"You know Barnes, there is such a thing as being gracious in victory as well as defeat." "Defeat?” He asked, looking at Steve with a puzzled expression on his face, “no, not sure what that is." "Eat shit.” You mumbled before turning to Sam who was stood behind you, watching the exchange. You nod to him and the two of you continued up the aisle towards the exit. The victim's family were congregated outside and all at once the start barraging you with questions.

"How did that happen?"

"You said it was a cert he would go down!”

"What about a private prosecution?”

You sighed and turn to look at them, you were exhausted. "I'm sorry.” You shook your head. “That new evidence that his attorney submitted, it was just threw too much of a doubt into the juries mind..." you held your hand up to gently silence them. “If you're serious about a private prosecution then I can meet you next week to discuss and put you in touch with a few people but I’m sorry, as far as the State’s involvement goes…I can’t do anymore."

Escaping as quickly as you could, you and Sam headed back to your office. After a short meeting with your boss, the District Attorney, who was as pissed as you were that the prosecution had failed, you emerged feeling twice as tired and battered as you had when you’d left the courtroom.

As Sam stated, there was only one thing left you could do. Drink alcohol. A lot of alcohol.

It was a short walk to your preferred bar, having decided to abandon your car and collect it in the morning. You were going to get drunk. Really drunk. "Hey Y/N, hey Sam." Clint, the bar tender greeted you. “I hear it wasn't a great day.” You looked up and saw he was pointing to the TV behind the bar. It was on a news channel, focussing on a report from earlier that afternoon which wasn’t surprising. The case had thrown up huge public interest ever since the body of the teenage girl has been found in the alleyway in Queens. The defendant confessed but somehow, the new evidence submitted was an alleged recording that the defence had gotten their hands on as proof the confession was taken under duress. If you were being totally honest, you had to admit that it didn't sound great, the officer did seem to be leaning heavily on the defendant, but the other evidence was, no, IS overwhelming.

But all it needed was that little seed of doubt, which the defence sowed expertly, and the jury couldn't convict. And now, thanks to Barnes and Rogers, specifically Barnes, in your mind a dangerous killer was walking free. As you stared at the television, you saw Barnes on the screen with the defendant, all smiles and Steve at his side. Barnes greeted the press with a raised hand. "Clint turn it over man." Sam almost pleaded and Clint shot you both a sympathetic look, before he pointed the remote at and flicked the report over to a mundane, late afternoon game show. You ordered 2 beers, and then settled at the bar on one of the tall chairs, crossing your bare, heeled legs as you and Sam began to dissect the case. You couldn’t help it, you always did this, analyse where you went wrong or right.

The pair of you got that enthralled in your discussions, that before you know it, it was an hour lager and you're now four beers deep... and Sam was fielding an angry phone call from his wife, Natasha. "I gotta go, boss." He sighed, apologetically, “it’s my little girl’s dance recital at six and if I miss this one, Nat’s gonna hang me out to dry!” You waved his explanation off. “Its fine, Sam. Oh, and take the morning tomorrow. That case has had us working all hours and I don’t intend on being there till lunch. Clint, gimme a bourbon please?" "Don't let Barnes get to you.” Sam sighed. “You know what he is like" "Smug, arrogant and annoyingly self-righteous.” You nodded. “Yup, I got it.” Sam smiled and dropped a friendly kiss to your cheek. "See you later." Clint slid the glass of bourbon over to you and you smiled before pulling out your phone to check a few emails and your social media. You were just reading through an article about a Billionaire in Manhattan who had designed some kind of metal suit that allowed him to fly (because that's gonna end well), when a familiar voice broke your concentration. "Can I buy you a drink?" You rolled your eyes and looked up at Bucky Barnes as he leaned on the bar, still in his suit, although he had dispensed of his black and white tie, and opened his top button. This was another thing you hated about him. He is utterly gorgeous. Like GQ cover gorgeous, especially in his sharp suits and silk ties.

And he fucking knows it, too. "Depends." You shrugged, throwing back the remainder of your bourbon. "Does it come with a side helping of irritating smugness?" He chuckled. "I'm off duty, Doll so no."

"In that case I'll have another Monkey Shoulder." You slid the empty glass back to Clint. "Take it you're not driving home?" Barnes asked, his azure eyes running over your bare legs. "Well if I do and I get caught, I'm sure you can get me off any charges.” You replied sharply, shooting him a look that made it clear you caught him eyeing you up. And it isn't the first time either. That's another reason you clash so much in the courtroom. Sexual tension. Fucking jerk. He barked out a laugh "You're really not happy with me are you?" "Not particularly." You shook your head, thanking Clint as he pushed the now full glass back to you, with a small wink. It's a double, you noticed. That should set Barnes back a bit. Bucky reached for his beer and after a pull he looked directly at you. "Come work for me." He said and you groaned.

Not this again. "I'm a prosecutor." You rolled your eyes. "Not a defence attorney. I told you that last time you asked. And the time before, and the time before that." "I'm nothing if not persistent." He winked, turning in his stool so he was facing you. "Besides, I can teach you the ways of the dark side." "You’d love that wouldn't you?" You snort. "Oh, Sweetheart you have no idea." He leaned forward slightly, his elbow on the bar and this time he is blatantly staring at the flash of skin that was showing above the buttons on your blouse. "My face is up here, ass hole." With a smirk he raised his deep, blue eyes and they locked onto yours. Despite yourself, you feel your breath hitch slightly. Dammed him and his sex appeal. "Why are you always this insufferable?" You eventually tore your gaze away from his and picked up your drink, glancing up at the TV as an excuse not to look at him. "Ah come on Y/N, don’t be like that." He reached out to squeeze your hand which was resting on the back of the tall chair you were sat in. "We could make a great team..." You raised an eyebrow and looked at him. "Professionally.” He added, his eyes not leaving yours as he took another large drink of his beer, and you pulled your hand away from under his. "I'd kill you within five minutes of us being in the same office." You glared at him as you took another sip from your drink. He chuckled and eyed you again, “to be fair I'm not sure Stevie would be able to function with a beautiful dame such as yourself in close proximity. He still flusters around any woman that isn’t his Peggy.” "That's because Steve is a happily married man." "So am I." He shot back. Ah yes, Mrs Barnes… "Your wife deserves a medal. She must have the patience of a fucking saint to put up with you." You said into your glass. "I have other hidden qualities which mean she's prepared to overlook my slightly less favourable personality traits." He quipped, and you looked back to see that lopsided grin on his face that flips your stomach. Behave Y/N. "They must be very hidden." You mused, and he let out another loud laugh.   "You're killing me, Doll.” "Good." You drained your glass. The liquid burnt your throat and you could feel the effects of the alcohol from the last few hours as your brain started to hum. You looked at Barnes who was watching you, his eyes shining with all the cheekiness of a teenage boy and you know you need to leave before you do something stupid.

Like snogging his dumb, handsome face off. "I think it's time I got going." You said simply, standing up. Barnes gave a nod, draining his bottle. “Yeah I should be making tracks too. Wife to see to, you know how it is.” You stood and he did the same, and you realised he was holding up your jacket, ready for you to slide your arms into. Narrowing your eyes slightly at his sudden chivalry, you couldn’t help the small smile that flickered across your face as you turned and allowed him to help you into it. His hands dropped to your shoulders and he span you round gently and smiled with those perfect teeth, a smile that lit up his beautiful face, his eyes crinkling in the corners. "Lead the way Mrs Barnes.” He instructed softly, dropping a tender kiss to your lips. "You know it's a good job I love you,” you smiled, sliding your arms up round his neck. "Yeah, I know." "Although right now I'm struggling to remember why." "Well, when we get home I'll just have to show you some of those hidden qualities I was talking about, see if they help jog your memory.” You bit your lip slightly at the dark flash of desire that flit across his eyes, and you leant up to brush your lips across his stubbled jawline. "Unanimous verdict,” your voice drops slightly as you pull back and he smirked again, “guilty as charged.” You tossed Clint a good bye, linked your hand into your husband’s and he walked you outside into the brisk wind, his arm pulling you close, his lips pressed a soft kiss to your temple. Yeah, James Buchanan Barnes might be an insufferable, arrogant ass hole in the courtroom, but outside it he's simply your Bucky.

[ridiculousn3sswrites]

Pressing Issues

*Dick Grayson x Reader

*Summary: Detective Dick Grayson has never been annoyed by another person as much as journalist Reader.

*Warnings: Swearing, talks of gun violence (relevant to a case Dick is working on), mention of robbery (case mention), cop stuff. Let me know if I missed anything.

*A/N: I made a post talking about this idea a while ago and finally wrote it.

Tip Jar

**********

When Detective Dick Grayson stepped on the scene, he didn’t expect anything different from what was told to him on the way there. He went about doing his thing - talking to the officers on the scene, chatting with CSI - when he heard his partner let out an exaggerated groan. Dick looked over, confused at the noise. His partner just rolled his eyes, nodding towards a woman with a press badge. “Man, why’d they send her?”

“Who’s that?” Dick asked. He’d never seen her before, but she was definitely attractive. He’d had a few press statements on other cases, and he never really saw the issue with the press. Maybe that was just from growing up around Bruce and all the media attention that brought, but the journalists he’d spoken to in Bludhaven had never been rude to him.

“That’s (y/n), she’s a monster.” His partner provided no further explanation as the woman walked up to them.

“I’m sorry, Miss, but you can’t be on the scene,” Dick immediately said. He was surprised the other officers didn’t stop her at the tape.

“Right, but those officers weren’t giving me any answers,” she told him. His partner let out a laugh.

“Grayson, you can deal with her, just get her out of the tape,” his partner said.

“Rodriguez, always nice to see you.” She smiled at his partner, but her tone was dripping with sarcasm. “Haven’t gotten any better at your job since the last time we spoke, have you?”

“Grayson, get her out of here.” Rodriguez lost any amusement he had with the woman, and Dick knew he should get the journalist out of there before things escalated even further. Dick led her away from the scene, right to the edge of the tape but away from the small crowd that were always nosing around scenes.

“Detective Richard Grayson, how can I help you out?”

“(Y/n) (L/n), lead crime journalist for the Bludhaven Gazette. I wanted to get a feel for the scene before we put anything out about it,” she explained. “Anything you can share about what happened?”

“Alright, well we have two males hit in a drive-by, one dead on the scene. We don’t know much about motives or anything, but we’re suspecting rival gangs based on the fact this happened in a grey-zone,” Dick told her. It would be vague enough to satisfy her readers, but didn’t put anything too speculative out there. She was shaking her head as she wrote down what he said. “Wait, what’s all that about?”

“What?”

“The head shaking? What, you don’t agree with the police statement?” Dick was trying to joke with her, but he was still confused.

“It’s not a grey-zone, but I wouldn’t expect the cops to know that,” she said, challenging him. Dick tried to think back to his nightly activities, trying to figure out if he missed anything with how the city was divided. As far as he knew, this area was unclaimed. “Right, so that’s it?”

“Well, yeah. We just got on the scene not too long ago.” She just hummed, and he wasn’t sure if it was in acknowledgement or disapproval. “Hey, what’s your beef with Rodriguez?”

“For a Detective, he’s shit at his job,” she told him, clicking her pen as she put it back in her bag.

“Care to elaborate?”

“A kid got snatched, broad daylight, and Rodriguez was the lead on the case. Gave up after a few days. I dunno where you’re from, but where I’m from, we don’t give up like that, especially on a kid,” she said. “I wrote articles talking about it, and Rodriguez doesn’t like me because I called him out on it.”

“Wow, you’re pretty cutthroat,” Dick said, whistling lowly.

“I just don’t give you guys any slack. Be good at your job and you have nothing to worry about.” She smiled at him before turning on her heel and walking away. He watched as she put her phone to her ear, probably talking to someone back at the office. She scared him a little, but he was always up for the challenge.

**********

Rodriguez was right. Dick was always down for accountability, but the way you brought it into his life was a bit much. Every time there was even the slightest hint of a development, you were there with your opinions about what he was doing wrong, and if you ever had any praise for him, it was so sparse he couldn’t even tell it was praise. He was just trying to look through some files to piece together your little cryptic ‘it’s not a grey-zone’ hint, when Rodriguez tapped on his desk.

“What’s up?” He asked, looking up at his partner.

“You got a visitor.”

“God, don’t tell me…”

“Surprise, your worst nightmare is here, Grayson.”

“Aw, I got a new nickname?” You asked Rodriguez as you dropped in the chair next to Dick’s desk. Dick had to stop the groan from escaping him, really not wanting to deal with you.

“She’s your problem now,” Rodriguez said, walking away. Dick almost wished he could go with him.

“Alright, (L/n), what is it now?” Dick asked, putting down his files.

“You have ID on one of the victims and it was a guy with no connections to anything on the Underground, but no progress on the shooter? C’mon, Grayson, I thought you’d at least be better than Rodriguez.”

“I’m working with what I have,” he huffed, fighting the way he wanted to roll his eyes.

“You’re not looking at all your options. Put away the gang files, they’re not the ones you should be looking at,” you almost ordered him. “I’m practically doing your job for you at this point. I gotta run, I have an interview.”

“You’re leaving the Gazette?” Dick was almost hopeful. That would definitely make things easier on him.

“No, smart one, I’m the one doing the interviewing.”

“Wow, who would’ve guessed with your shining personality,” Dick shot back, finally annoyed.

“I’m a ray of sunshine, just not with cops,” you said with your fake little smile before leaving him there. It took everything to not slam his head against his desk.

**********

Dick always thought he was good under pressure, but this was intense. With your little article that came out the day after you talked to him - apparently your interview was with the victim’s wife - public pressure was increasing on the department tenfold. He hated to admit it, but you were good at what you did. He was almost pissed off at himself after reading the article, and that was saying something.

He needed to close this case so he could get you off his back, and he needed to do it fast. Not only did you put pressure on the department, now his superiors were putting even more pressure on him. He knew you were cryptic with what you knew, but you wanted him to put together the pieces. When he was out for his nightly patrol, he was trying to piece together what little hints you dropped.

Dick had to admitted he was silently fuming as he sat on the rooftop across from the scene of the crime. After all, what did you know? It’s not like you had access to the databases he did, both legally and in the legally grey. What did she mean it’s not gang-related? It has to be, this is disputed territory right now. 

And of course something sketchy had to happen while he was doubting you. A black town car pulled up to the block, someone getting out of the passenger seat and scanning the area before going back to talk to someone in the back. Dick cursed as he grabbed his binoculars, trying to watch the scene closer to see if he could get any more information from the sketchy scene. He zoomed in on the man in the backseat, a guy dressed in an expensive-looking suit wearing sunglasses at night (like an asshole), silver rings adorning his fingers.

“No way,” Dick mumbled, taking a picture of the rings to send to Barbara later. One of them in particular looked familiar, but he couldn’t exactly place it. “How the hell did she…”

After whoever it was seemed satisfied with how the scene looked, the person got back into the car and it pulled off, the tires screeching in the quiet of the night. As soon as Dick finished his patrols for the night, he sent the picture off to Barbara. She called him as soon as she ran the picture. “Hey, where’d you see this guy?”

“By the scene of that drive-by a couple weeks ago,” Dick explained. “I recognize that big ring he’s wearing on his middle finger, but I have no idea where from. Can you help me out?”

“Yeah, that’s a Baglio family ring,” she told him. “I can’t get an ID on the guy, but you remember that Italian family we were having trouble with out here? Same family.”

“Damn, she was right then. Technically not gang related. Hey, does the mob count as a gang?”

“I mean, technically, but they aren’t really recognized as gangs when it comes to like popular recognition. Does that really matter, though?”

“It’s a matter of me being technically right, so yes.”

“You’re annoying, has anyone told you that lately?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

“Okay, good talk then.”

**********

Actually having a solid lead meant that he was able to close the case a lot sooner than he previously thought. Sure, he wasn’t able to actually bag whoever was in the back of the town car, but he was able to track down the shooters. At the press conference announcing the arrest of the shooters, he could see you right there in the front row with the other reporters. Dick caught your gaze for a second, and he almost missed the small nod of approval you gave him. For a moment, he thought he’d finally get on your good side again.

Then again, the peace could only last for so long. Every single case he was on, he could bet there was an article about it soon to follow. You’d appear at every crime scene, moving on from antagonizing Rodriguez to finding Dick and immediately bothering him. You’d drop your little cryptic hints when he was having trouble with cases, and somehow they’d actually be useful once he decoded them. The thing that probably bugged him the most was how you managed to get to his desk almost every day he was working on particularly difficult cases. You never let him get to the point of forgetting about cases, especially for the ones that involved people that stayed away from the Underground.

He could understand not wanting cases to go cold, but the fact that you were coming into the precinct every single day to bug him about developments was a bit much. Dick could handle a healthy amount of shit talking, but there was just something about your shit talking that got him on edge. Everything about you just got under his skin, and seeing you so often was really not helping that out. It got to the point where he started trying to avoid you just to keep his sanity.

“Grayson, (L/n) just got on the scene, you wanna run?” Rodriguez asked as soon as he spotted you talking to the officers at the tape. Dick quickly looked around, trying to find someplace he could disappear to. The only real option would be to go look like he was talking to the CSI team, but he didn’t want to disturb them actually doing their jobs. Before he could make a decision, you were already approaching.

“Grayson, stop running from me. You know I know where you work,” you called out to him.

“I should really get you banned from the precinct,” he shot back, a small frown on his face. 

“You know you’d get bored without me,” you said, rolling your eyes. “So, whatcha got for me?”

“Why are you talking like you’re on this case? Technically I don’t have to tell you anything more than the other officers told you.”

“So what I’m hearing is go ahead and write whatever I want.”

“For fuck’s sake-”

“Ooo, that’s the first time I’ve heard you curse. I like it. So, what’s the news?”

“It’s a robbery, one injured, but we have a couple witnesses and it sounds like we have a pretty solid perp description. We’re just waiting for the witnesses to meet with the sketch artist and then we’re sending out the sketch to the papers and news outlets,” Dick told you. “There, satisfied?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. Glad this one’s an easy one, I’d hate to have to write about you again,” you told him, turning around with a small smile on your face. “See you later, Grayson.”

“I sure hope not,” he decided to call after you. He could faintly hear your laugh, but the thing that caught his attention was the fact that you decided to flip him off as you walked away. Dick froze for a second, not sure if he should be highly amused or pissed off. He settled for somewhere in the middle, leaning more towards being pissed off.

When you put out your article, it was a simple, tell the details, share the perp sketch type of article. Dick was pleasantly surprised that there were no real call outs about him; as a matter of fact, his name was only mentioned once with the request that anyone who sees or has information about the suspect contact the tip-line immediately. He smiled at his laptop, taking the lack of criticism as praise. He was even willing to take the shit talking from Rodriguez, because as far as he was concerned, Rodriguez was just jealous that he never got this type of reaction from you.

**********

Dick didn’t realize he actually somewhat enjoyed your company - if he could call it that - until you stopped bothering him. You moved on from targeting him, bugging other detectives and officers about their open cases. He would hear complaints, as well as some pretty unsavory things, about you from the people you were bothering, and he was surprised about the amount of times he almost jumped to your defense. You were the biggest pain in his ass - constantly bugging him about his cases and making sure that he didn’t forget about your existence - so why did your disappearance bother him so much?

He got used to seeing you around the precinct (just not talking to him), but then he noticed when you stopped showing up. You didn’t show up to crime scenes, you didn’t show up to the precinct, you just weren’t there anymore, and that worried him. He tried asking around about you, seeing if maybe you were there and he just didn’t happen to run into you, but he met the same response: relief that you’d stopped coming around. It got to the point where he was checking the Bludhaven Gazette’s website to see if you’d written any new articles. Nothing.

Dick figured there’d be no way to really contact you; it wasn’t like he could just call your job and be like ‘hey, why isn’t this journalist bothering me anymore?’. He tried pushing you to the back of his mind, but he found himself still looking for you. It annoyed him - even when you weren’t there, you still managed to find a way to bug him. Before he knew it, a month had passed without seeing you. Then, as he was trying to schmooze up to a DA at the Policeman’s Ball, he could hear the telltale groan of another officer. You were there.

Sure enough, there you were in a black cocktail dress, a flute of champagne in hand, talking to someone he vaguely recognized from a different precinct. He wanted to excuse himself from his conversation just to see where the hell you’d been, but he knew he couldn’t risk it. He’d just have to find you later.

Then you slipped away yet again. Dick kept seeing glimpses of you here and there, but he could never catch up to you. It wasn’t until you went to the bar that Dick finally found his opening. You were talking to someone, but he didn’t really care at the moment. He slid up beside you at the bar, ordering a drink. He could see you straighten up at the sound of his voice, knowing he had your attention. As he took a drink of the whiskey in his cup, he turned to look at you.

You were a lot more done up than you normally were when you were working, but he couldn’t say he strongly preferred either. You looked amazing either way, just in different ways. “(L/n), funny running into you here.”

“Grayson,” you greeted, taking a sip of your own drink. “I can hardly believe this is an accident considering the way you’ve been watching me all night.”

That took him off guard, just enough to make him choke on his drink for a second. As soon as he regained his composure, he tried to figure out how to come back from his blunder. “Well, yeah. I thought I was seeing a ghost considering how you just disappeared.”

Not his best work, but you gave an amused smile so he would count it as a win. “Aw, you missed me.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. It was just weird not being bothered every second of my work day.” You tipped your glass back, the last of your drink passing your lips. He watched as you swallowed before putting the glass back on the counter, leaving some bills folded under it.

“Ah, I see. Well, I guess I’ll see you around, Grayson.” You stood from your seat, giving him one last look before turning to disappear back into the crowd. Dick would have to work fast if he wanted to catch up to you before you slipped through his fingers yet again. He paid for his drink and left a tip as fast as he could, scanning through the crowd for you again. You were about to disappear down the hallway towards the bathrooms, and he still had to make his way through the crowd as politely as possible while also avoiding conversation. Damn social conventions. 

You walked down the hall, wanting to escape to the bathroom for a few minutes to compose yourself, when you felt a hand around your wrist. You whipped around, not knowing who would be daring enough in a room full of police, just to see the last person you wanted to. “Grayson, let go of me.”

“No,” his voice was firm before he realized it must’ve been a little jarring to just get grabbed. “Sorry, but no.”

“What do you want?”

“Why are you even here?”

“It’s my job. I’m reporting on this damn thing,” you practically hissed, trying again to tug your wrist free from his hold. “Why do you care so much?”

“You’ve been MIA for a month and then suddenly you just appear here of all places? What gives?” He said, stepping towards you. You took a step back, trying to keep the distance, but your back just hit the wall behind you. You were forced to look up at him, the storm in his blue eyes surprising you. Why did it matter so much?

“I got sick, alright? My editor thought this would be an easy returner,” you snapped, trying to maintain your glare with him. It was a little difficult with how close he was to not get flustered, but you did what you needed to. “Why, did you miss me?”

You could tell that pissed him off by the smallest flare of his nose, but before you could take in the victory, he hit his arm on the wall above you. He kept it there, trapping you between his body and the wall. He wasn’t pressed against you just yet, but you wouldn’t be opposed to it if it was. “Why do you like pissing me off so much?”

He really didn’t see the opportunity he presented you with. You grabbed his tie the slightest bit, giving him the chance to pull away if he wanted to. When he didn’t, you used it to pull him down to your eye level. “Have you ever considered how fun it is?”

There was a moment of pure silence between the two of you, the faint noise of the party still going on just down the hall reminding you that you weren’t actually alone. Your gaze flicked down to his lips for just a moment, and then it was over. You don’t know who closed the distance first, but it didn’t really matter. The kiss was heated from the beginning, messy with tongue and teeth but you weren’t going to complain about it. Your hold on his tie tightened, pulling him closer to you. Dick’s arm moved from pressed against the wall above you, one hand fisting in your hair and the other wrapping around your waist to pull your body against him.

“God, I hate you,” Dick panted soon after he broke the kiss.

“Why do I get the feeling you don’t?” You tried teasing, even though your voice was a lot more airy than you would care to admit.

“You annoy the hell out of me.”

“I’m a journalist that doesn’t give cops any wiggle room, of course I do.” He rolled his eyes, making you smile. You pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “But you still missed me.”

“I guess I did. Do you maybe wanna get out of here?” You raised your brow, knowing he had to know how that sounded. It took him a second, but it finally clicked. “Not like that! Get some food or something. You probably aren’t annoying all the time.”

“You underestimate me,” you joked, making him smile. He has a pretty smile. “But I’ll take you up on that. Just make sure you behave yourself.”

“You’re the one who kissed me!”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” You freed yourself from his arms, making your way back down the hallway towards the exit. It took him a second, but you heard Dick following close behind. He pressed a hand to the small of your back, making sure you wouldn’t slip from his fingers again.

**********

Dress Inspiration

Permanent Tag List: @treatallwithkindness, @laic2299, @delaber

[marauderundercover]

This Side of Normal Chapter Three

Previous

AO3

Marinette Dupain-Cheng is tired. She’s tired of emotional terrorists and liars and classes with a teacher who cares more about keeping the peace than teaching. She’s also just plain tired. Taking a long swig of coffee, Marinette jumps slightly as someone flounces down next to her. Wearily glancing over, she frowns at the look on her best friend’s face. Her mind runs a million miles a minute as she searches for the reason for the look on his face. The conversation on the roof with Jason flashes in her mind and she frowns, realizing why he looks so sad.

“Adrien-” She starts, but he shakes his head.

“I know, Mari. I know he’s our best suspect but...it doesn’t make it hurt any less.” He says, slouching so that he can lay his head on her shoulder. Marinette sighs in response

“You’re gonna get in trouble sitting back here, kitty.” She mumbles, trying not to laugh at the absolutely adorable pout on his face that forms once she’s done talking.

“It’s worth it. I hate sitting by Lila.” He grumbles, the sad look on his face breaking Marinette’s heart.

“I-Well, maybe Mme. Bustier won’t notice.” She offers with a small smile. The smile falls almost immediately as a loud gasp rings throughout the room.

“Mme. Bustier, isn’t Adrien’s seat in the front row? Has the seating chart changed again?” Lila asks, her voice wobbly with tears. “Do I- do I have to sit by myself?” She adds. Marinette groans and drops her head onto the desk.

“Adrien? Why don’t you come back to your seat. We’re going to start class soon.” Mme. Bustier calls out.

“Sorry, guess I spoke too soon.” Marinette mumbles from her spot against the table. Adrien groans, but drags his bag down to the front row, furrowing his eyebrows as Lila immediately attaches herself to his arm. Marinette rolls her eyes, trying her hardest to pay attention to the lecture when all she wants to do is sleep. Between Ladybug duties, commissions, and homework, Marinette was lucky to get more than a couple hours of sleep each night. Add in the fact that once she could go to sleep her brain wouldn’t shut off, and Marinette was ready to petition her parents for an IV drip for her coffee. Having been completely zoned out for the entire class, Marinette jumps when the telltale sound of an akuma alarm suddenly blares throughout the room. Pulling out her phone, Marinette curses under her breath. Another element based akuma. Quickly grabbing her bag, Marinette follows the rest of the class towards the akuma shelter, silently slipping away and into the bathroom. She wastes no time in transforming, instead swinging herself out the window and to the fight.

----

Glancing down at his computer, Jason frowns. Gabriel Agreste has a kid. A kid Damian’s age, who lives in Paris. If Gabriel Agreste really was Hawkmoth, he was doing it knowing that his kid could get caught in the crossfire. Damn shitty parents. Letting out a shaky breath, Jason tries to think about things that calm him. Breathe. Can’t get pissed off here. Can’t make it harder on those kids than it already is. Deciding enough is enough when it comes to research (especially since he didn’t give Replacement specifics, just told him to look into anything sketchy with Agreste), Jason walks over and glances out the hotel window. A sudden alarm blaring through the hotel makes him sigh in frustration. It was the same alarm from last time, when he watched Paris flood and hundreds of bodies float in the streets. Climbing out onto the fire escape, Jason hurries up to the roof, scanning the horizon in hopes of seeing the akuma.

“Shit.” He says, eyes widening at the sight of flames twenty feet high. Regretting letting Bruce convince him to leave the helmet in Gotham, Jason has no choice but to watch the akuma fight from afar. Even if the two heroes hadn’t recognized him, Jason was in Paris on “official” W.E. business. Being recognized as Bruce Wayne’s adoptive son while fighting a supervillain? Probably not the best idea. He’d do more damage than help, and at least by staying away from the fight, he could help the kids later. And maybe track down the son of a bitch who decided focusing the majority of his attacks on a school was a good idea.

----

Jason grit his teeth as the lights flashed and ladybugs flew around, fixing up the city. This battle took almost three hours, and the smell of burning flesh was lingering, despite all of the corpses being reanimated. Huffing, Jason climbs back off the roof, only thinking one thing. There was no way in hell he was leaving Paris until Hawkmoth was out of commission.

----

Landing softly on the rooftop, Marinette glances over at the strange man. Jason. The man who, for some reason, was willing to train them late at night on top of a roof, just so they could fight out of the suits. Not that he understood everything that the suits could do, but that was for the best. Even though his intentions seemed genuine, Marinette had learned not to trust easily anymore. Ever since Lila came, Marinette was wearier, and more likely to ask questions before accepting someone.

“Here’s your mask, if you wanna go ahead and change and start doing some basic stretches.” Jason instructs, getting right down to business as he passes the black domino mask to her. Marinette nods and flits behind the chimney.

“Spots off.” She says quietly, grinning at Tikki.

“Is this really a good idea?” Tikki asks, her face scrunched up with worry. Marinette sighs at her friend.

“He’s gonna help us find Hawkmoth. And he has a point. What happens if I can’t transform but someone still needs my help? I don’t want to be helpless, Tikki.” Marinette says.

“Just be careful, you don’t have the suit to stop you from being too injured.” Tikki warns before flying to the top of the chimney. Marinette hesitates a second before sliding the domino mask on, blinking to get used to the eye cover. It was...weird, having a mask on that wasn’t magic. With the mask that came with her suit, Marinette couldn’t feel it. It was just there, part of her. The domino mask, though, was solid. She could feel it resting on her face. Taking a breath to steady herself, Marinette walked out from behind the chimney.

“Chat Noir’s changing over there.” Jason says when he notices her, nodding towards an air duct on the opposite side of the roof.

“Thank you, for offering to help us.” Marinette says, Jason nods, a tense smile on his face.

“No problem.” He says.

“Did you happen to look into Gabriel Agreste today?” She asks.

“Yeah, what kind of asshole decides to be an emotional terrorist in a city where his kid lives?” Jason asks, a dark look crossing his face. Marinette flinches, looking at Jason nervously. If he had the means to train them, she really didn’t want to deal with him as an akuma.

“Gabriel Agreste, apparently.” Adrien says, finally joining the two, his arms crossed. Marinette frowns at him. It was much harder to read his face with his eyes hidden.

“So did you guys want me to look more into Agreste?” He asks, raising an eyebrow as he looks between the two. Marinette glances at Adrien, letting out a small breath when she sees his small nod.

“Yeah. Even if it’s not Gabriel, we need to know for sure.” She says. Jason nods.

“Alright. That gives me something to do tomorrow. Now, stretch and warm up. I don’t wanna have to drag your asses off this roof ‘cause you pulled something trying to jump right into things.” Jason says, a teasing grin on his face. Marinette grins back, finally feeling lighter. Maybe training would be a good thing.

----

Training was hell. Okay, maybe not hell, but it was not easy. Gasping for air, Marinette dramatically collapses on the roof.

“Aw come on Pixie, you can do better than that.” Jason teases, still standing in a sparring stance.

“Jay, I swear. We’ve been training for over a week. I’m exhausted. And you’ve already kicked my ass twice. I’m giving up.” She says, throwing her arm over her face to block out the lights from the surrounding street lamps.

“Come on Bug, don’t give up!” Adrien cheers from the side, a smirk on his face. Marinette sits up and narrows her eyes at him, despite knowing the mask wouldn’t let him see her eyes. And the level of done that was visible there.

“Why don’t you try again?” She asks in a taunting tone. Adrien snorts.

“You and I both know that I can’t beat Jason.” He says, shaking his head in amusement.

“Not with that attitude. Come on kid, let’s go.” Jason says, turning to face Adrien instead of Marinette. An idea flashes into Marinette’s head and she smirks, lunging forward and yanking Jason down as his attention is completely on Adrien. Grabbing his wrists as he falls, Marinette manages to twist him around so that his face is against the rooftop and his arms are bent behind him.

“Okay, okay, I tap out.” Jason chuckles, accepting Marinette’s hand when she jumps up and reaches out to help him up.

“I won.” She says with a wide grin.

“You totally cheated.” Jason replies with a snort.

“Nah, Kitty and I just worked together to outsmart you.” Mari says.

“Don’t drag me into this, I had no idea what was happening ‘til Jay was on the ground.” Adrien says, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Traitor.” Marinette huffs, sticking her tongue out at her best friend.

“Hey, you guys are gonna have to go home soon.” Jason says, glancing down at his watch. Marinette frowns.

“What about the Plan?” She asks. “I thought we were gonna work on that tonight so that we have an actual plan to stop Hawkmoth instead of just letting him run around and terrorize people nonstop.”

“Pixie, it’s late. I promise we’ll start with planning tomorrow. But you guys need to go get some sleep. Chat told me you’re already living off of coffee alone. That’s not healthy.” Jason says. Marinette rolls her eyes, sticking her bottom lip out in a pout.

“Coffee is my life fuel and I will not apologize.” She says, making both Chat and Jason groan.

“You’re worse than my brother.” Jason says and Mari grins.

“I’m sure we’d get along swimmingly.” She says, and Chat shakes his head.

“Nope. I draw the line at your coffee addicted butt meeting another coffee addict. I’m not about to watch that train wreck.” He says, grabbing Mari’s hand and tugging her behind the chimney so they can transform. Saying their phrases quickly, the two dart back over to Jason.

“Same time?” Marinette asks with a bright smile. Jason nods. Marinette waves, running over to the edge of the building and swinging away, waving at Adrien as he vaults towards his house. As she lands on her balcony, Marinette can't help the wide smile that stretches across her face. Maybe they could finally end this.

Next

[polyghostfacehours]

You know what I'll here for. Gimmie some Davis smut. Late night, side of the road, reader bent over the hood of his van, you know you want to. Put the porn in the bag and I'll be on my way. Love you dude! Love your boy, fuck us all up!

HAHAHA. YES. MY FIRST DAVIS REQUEST. AND ITS SMUT. THANK YOU BEX.

Hope you guys enjoy fucking sweaty vanlife trash man 👀

TW: NSFW

Roadside Assistance - Davis Nikki x afab!GN!Reader:

---

"You need some help hun?"

You lift your head up from your place on the ground to look behind you. A large, kitschy, baby-blue van had pulled up just ahead of where you had pulled over, and a man with a bad dye job stepped out as those words were spoken.

You give a polite smile "Ah, thank you! But no worries! I think I got it."

In reality, you didn't "got it." You had no idea how your tire had gone flat, but you guessed it didn't matter when you had none of the tools to replace it with the spare you had. Still, the thought of trusting some strange man in the dead of night was more unsettling than sleeping in the car until morning came.

"You sure?" he drawled, walking closer and leaning on the hood of your car on one hand with a smile. "I've replaced tons of tires in my life! Comes with being a roadie."

The man was pleasant to look at, and his posture was relaxed. He gesticulated as he talked, walking over from your hood to bend down and be eye level with you on the dirty roadside. He eyes the tire, assessing the damage, before telling you to wait as he gets his carjack.

"No! Really it's fine. I'll just wait until morning, no biggie."

The man stops in his tracks as you say this, taking a moment to stare ahead before turning around to look at you. He eyes you for a moment, and unease pools in the pit of your stomach before he breaks out into another dashing smile.

"Look, I get it. You don't wanna trust some sketchy guy in the middle of the night." He says, arms spreading wide as he gestures to himself "But I really don't mean any harm. Just wanted to help out. It's dangerous to sleep in a car this late on the side of a road. Been there, done that, had some homeless guy try and break in. But, I can leave if that'll make you more comfortable."

Your eyes widen at his words. The thought of him actually leaving you here alone on this desolate roadside had you shuddering. He was the only person you'd seen for awhile now due to how late it was. And his story had honestly shaken you a bit. You weren't too far from a beach, now that you thought about it, and the threat of some coked up guy trying to break in was far from enticing. It was terrifying.

This man seemed to be experienced with the perils of traveling. Maybe you could use his help.

You heave a sigh before standing up and speaking. "No! No...it's okay. Sorry. I'm just a bit wary is all. I appreciate the help." You smile and he returns it in earnest.

"Excellent! I'll be right back!"

The man, thankfully, didn't come out with a giant machete as you feared, staying true to his word and instead returning with the necessary tools. He introduced himself as Davis, and the speed in which he replaced the tire was honestly impressive. He really had to have done this a thousand times before. He spoke with you as he worked, and you regaled a funny tale from your travels that had him laughing. He seemed nice, and the longer Davis stayed, the more you found yourself wishing he wouldn't leave.

"That oughta do it." He slapped the tire with the back of his hand before standing up. He towered over you slightly. "See, told ya I know what I'm doing!"

You giggle at that, thanking him. A silence blankets you two for a second before a cold wind sweeps by, making you shudder. Damn, you knew you should've started your journey in the summer and not the fall. He chuckles at this.

"Cold? I got a spare jacket in Terry." You shoot him a confused look before he nods towards his vehicle. Ah. That's Terry. You shake your head though.

"Nah, it's fine. You've already helped out a ton, you don't need to give me your jacket too. Holy shit though, thank you so much for everything. You're a life saver."

He smiles at this, and something flickers in his eyes for a moment. Amusement? You weren't sure. But it disappears and he gives a shrug with one shoulder before leaning towards you slightly

"You sure you don't want the jacket? It could keep you warm for the night. It's nice. And thick."

Your eyes snap to his at these words, mouth opening slightly in shock. The innuendo there was unmistakable, and you were slightly thrown for a loop. He leans away, giving you time to get at what he was really offering.

You eyes scan over him for a second. He was handsome, and the wife beater he wore clung to his leanly muscled form, showing off his shapely bare arms. Veins were visible on the lower parts of them in an enticing path towards his large hands. You gulped. Was he really insinuating what you thought he was? Or were you just horny?

"I- I guess I wouldn't mind that, uh, jacket after all." You stutter a little, putting emphasis where you hope it was needed, and you can't help the red creeping up and burning your face.

The man hums and steps closer. His chest lightly brushes against yours, and he stares into your eyes briefly before lowering his face down to your ear.

"Yeah?" he breathes out.

You let out a breath.

"Yeah."

That was all Davis needed apparently, because before you knew it you were shoved against the hood of your car, your ass making contact with the cool metal. Davis bends down to eye level with your crotch and begins to work your pants and underwear down in one go. You shiver and he slides his eyes up and locks them with yours.

"Cold?" he playfully smirks. "Let's change that."

His warm palms felt amazing against your now exposed thighs. He props a leg up onto his shoulder and, without breaking eye contact, dips his tongue into your wet, dripping entrance. You moan, the temperature contrast felt incredible. And with the way Davis was moving his tongue, you guessed he had just as much experience with oral as he did changing a tire.

He gives a suck on your clit, tongue moving in fast tight circles around it, and chuckling at the noises you were making, before sliding a finger in and curling. You tilt your head back and he introduces another finger shortly after. He brushes against the sensitive tissue of your inner clitoris in tandem with the outer part and, before long, you're body gives a shake and you're cumming against his mouth.

He lets out a satisfied groan as you do, the vibrations feeling pleasant through your orgasm, and he pulls away with a satisfying pop. The blond takes a moment to regard your pulsing entrance, before dipping his head to your thighs and licking the drip that had escaped his mouth and ran down them, relishing in the taste briefly.

"Tasty." He says with a little laugh as he wipes his mouth with the back of his arm.

He stands up, and you immediately notice the straining erection in his jeans. He throbs within them, and you notice the motion with a lick of your lips. God, he was hard. Really hard. You move your hands forward to unbuckle his jeans before he stops you. You look up at him in question

"Turn around. Hands flat on the hood." he commands, his voice dropping from the friendly, medium pitch it previously had to a low, heavy one. You do as he says and he gives a pleased hum. The unbuckling of his belt rings out above the loud cricket noises of the night, and you feel his hand spread you as he gives your ass a squeeze.

"Hah. Look at that cunt. All wet and ready for me..." he sighs and you yelp when you feel the thick head of his cock brush your folds. His hands slide up along your back before grasping your shoulders.

"Bite the pillow." he jokes lazily before shoving himself to the hilt inside of you. You gasp as he stretches you out, thankful for how wet you were as he slides in. From behind, you hear him hiss before he draws his hips back and begins a slow pace.

"God, you're tighter than I expected." He says with an out of breath laugh. "Was thinking to myself: they're probably a whore. Cause, y'know, just fucking a random guy in the middle of the road? You would think." he grunts.

"But nah, you wrap around me like a dream babe."

You groan at his dirty talk, wanting to give as good as you were getting. Praise spills from your mouth. You talk about how good his cock feels, how hot this was. At one point you let slip how he was the slut for using jacket as a euphemism to fuck a stranger by the road and he groans deliciously at that before picking up the pace.

One hand moves off of your shoulder and slides over your hips, trailing down to dip towards your entrance to gather slick before rubbing in both alternating tight circles and up and down motions on your clit. His pace didn't let up, and both your moans and his reverberated through the night.

You notice a flash of light and the hum of a car, and before you could say anything, Davis takes the other hand off of your shoulder and uses it to push your head against the hood of your car, fucking you even faster. Embarrassment creeps up on your features as the car passes, a cacophony of whoops and cheers coming from vehicle and, from your peripheral, you see Davis lift his hand off your clit briefly to give the passing car a thumbs up (or middle finger, you're not sure), before returning to pleasuring you. You roll your eyes internally in amusement.

Your focus quickly returns to the building orgasm. You were close, and you could tell by the labored breath and "fuuuuuck"'s pouring from Davis' mouth that so was he. The drag of his thick cock continued, his fingers unrelenting, and before long you're cumming around him. Your insides milking him was the final straw, and you begin pushing your ass back against his hips as he groans and pulls himself out. Thick ribbons of cum coat your ass and back as he rubs himself to completion with a pleased sigh.

The cool metal of the car's hood against your cheek felt nice, but the cooling cum on you didn't. You lift yourself up with your arms and turn your head as far as it went to assess the mess. Davis tucks himself away and regards you, looking at your back like an artist who just finished their magnum opus.

"You, uh, think Terry's got any wipes?" you joke and your lover gives a sharp laugh in response.

"Oh yeah. For sure. I'll be right back."

You smile as Davis disappears into his van again, and you can't help but think to yourself how grateful you were that he had decided to lend a helping hand.

[afictionalwhore]

Room for Two

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❀ AN: this is a gift for @lorlocks as a thank you for all her wonderful and beautiful art. Pls go check her out. She is amazing OTL

❀ TW: Shig being fluffy?

❀ WC: 2.6k

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It was in college that you met Shigaraki and the rest of the League. After a rough week of classes you wandered into the bar operated by the League. In your drunken state, you had confided your college girl woes to Kurogiri, who handed information about your quirk to Shigaraki. Later in the week, you found the leader of the League, along with Dabi, sitting on your worn couch. The two had planned to kidnap you, but after just a few minutes of talking, they were pleasantly surprised to find that you were more than willing to just go along with them.

Due to your quiet demeanor, you weren’t usually picked to go out on missions with the others, but your beloved leader deemed it dangerous enough to make use of your quirk. You didn’t have a dangerous quirk like Toga or Shig. It was the opposite. You could project a force field and protect those surrounding you from both physical attacks and objects and quirks like Aizawa and Shinsou’s. Your quirk, shield, was perfect for hero work. You were even recommended to UA in the sidekick program. But your social skills failed and you graduated without a job lined up and without friends.

This is how you ended up with Shig. You were scheduled to go on a small breakin mission the next morning with Shig as a test of your quirk before his planned attack on your alma mater. He wanted to make sure you could protect him in case anything went wrong.

You traveled far outside the usual vicinity of league activities so as not to arouse suspicion. Hours into your journey, as the sun began to set, your tire blew.

“Fucking dammit,” Shig said as he kicked the blown tire after you pointed out the screw lodged in it. Luckily, you had learned a few mechanics from your father. The man insisted you knew how to change a tire lest you fall helpless to a gang of villains on the side of the road. You shook your head, knowing his disapproval if he saw your current company now.

Shigaraki’s pacing and grumbling behind you made you more nervous than you’d have liked. You coughed while working, hoping to gain his attention. The lanky man continued his ways, wearing a hole in the dirt behind you. You coughed again, this time catching his attention.

“What’s the matter?” he scratched.

“Nothing, just. It’s getting late, and I think we should find a place for the night.”

“And? So?”

“Well, uh,” you stuttered. “There's a motel not far down the road. We passed it not long ago. Umm. Why don’t you get us a couple rooms for the night?”

The heavy padding of Shigaraki’s footsteps stopped behind you. You felt his staring on your back, and panicked for a moment. You tracked back through what you could have said to have upset him. Suggesting he walk alone back to a shady motel in the middle of nowhere could definitely have done it.

“You’re right,” you heard his rough, scratchy voice and felt yourself visibly relax.

“My, um,” you stumbled through your words, not expecting to get this far. “My wallet is in the console. You can get my card out and—”

“Tsch,” Shigaraki cut you off, “Are you stupid or something? Use your card with your name? They’ll trace back to you and expose us. It’s fine. I have cash.” A dry hand reached up to scratch at his neck.

There was the Shig you knew and loved. But he had a good point. You blushed as you bent back down to continue your work.

You relaxed as you heard Shigaraki’s footsteps recede. You were finally able to focus on the task at hand. You thought about your situation as you removed the hubcap. You had gone with Shigaraki and Dabi first to find meaning in your lonely life. The more time you spent with the league, you began to find your place in the world.

You never really had a place to fit in, and maybe that’s why you felt that you finally did fit in with the League of Villains. All of you, in some way, shape, or form, were outcasts of society and held a distaste for hero society. Even in the place you felt you fit best, you were still deemed an oddball. Shy and always blushing, you never really had much to say, opting to go along with what the others wanted.

It was safe to say that now you were in love with your boss. It was true that you initially went with the villainous pair back to the hideout because you wanted something more to your life, but you couldn’t deny your initial attraction to the pale, blue-haired man. He intrigued you, to say the least. But as you learned more about what exactly it was that made him tick, you found yourself falling for the man. You prayed your blush would go unnoticed every time his crimson eyes met yours.

Before you knew it, you had successfully replaced the flat tire with the spare. You made your way back toward the motel, slowly so as not to upset the spare you knew wouldn’t make it over forty. You slowly rolled the car into the decrepit parking lot, careful not to hit too many of the potholes littering the asphalt.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you heard the old receptionist say as you walked in through dusty glass doors. The jingle of a bell caused her to look up at you and away from Shigaraki. She glanced back towards the chatter of voices from the TV behind her, clearly more concerned about the soap opera in the background that she was missing due to her argument with your boss. “We only have the one room.”

Shigaraki turned to see you had made it, a hand pausing its scratching on the back of his neck. Behind you past the dirty glass doors sat your car in the lot. For a moment you thought you saw a flicker of relief in his bright red eyes. Your heart jumped at the thought of him thinking of you. You shoved the fluttering feeling back down and told yourself he was only relieved at your presence as a way to end his argument with the frumpy receptionist.

“Fine,” he sighed as he snatched the plastic key card from the woman. “We’ll take it. Save some money I guess.”

After stumbling awkwardly through the halls, you had finally found your room. It took three tries with the key card before you were actually in your room. It was everything you expected to be, judging from the looks of the exterior of the motel.

Yellowing, floral wallpaper that was as old as your grandparents decorated the room. The ceiling boasted a popcorn texture that you were sure contained enough asbestos to send the entirety of the League to the hospital. The carpet was a cream color, dingy with age and rough on your feet. There was a small ensuite, which you were thankful for, from which you could hear the gentle dripping off the shower. Against one wall was a TV that had to have been from the late 90s, high technology of its time now bought at a discount rate to furnish a sketchy motel. Perhaps the worst part of the setup was right across from the TV: a single bed in the middle of the room.

You blinked. Once. Twice.

“Maybe there’s a pull-out? I’ve seen something like it on American TV,” you suggested, trying to alleviate the awkwardness that settled into the room.

“Don’t be stupid,” Shigaraki said. He walked towards the bed before flopping on top, shoes still on. The headboard was placed against a long wall, and the floral bedding looked as scratchy as your partner sounded. He dug through the bedside table, searching for a remote to the television.

You took your shoes off by the door before slipping your stockinged feet into the complementary slippers. They were once a soft yet vibrant pink, but now they boasted a dirty, pale gray with a hint of their former pink glory. You padded your way to the bed and sat stiffly on the edge of the bed as Shigaraki occupied the majority of the space on the bed. He looked bored, irritated even as he lazily searched the TV. After a few seconds, which felt like eternity to you, you stood and walked over to the bathroom.

“I’m going to take a shower,” you said, standing in front of the en suite while Shigaraki flipped through the few channels on the cable television. You stood for a moment, waiting to be acknowledged by the man.

“Well?” he said, eyes still glued to the faint blue glow of the screen. “Why are you just standing there? Go take a shower.”

“I just wanted to see if you wanted to go first or needed anything before I start,” you said, before turning to the bathroom and gently closing the door behind you.

You slipped on the rubber shower slippers, praying you wouldn’t get athlete’s foot or worse. On the near end of the bathroom, old towels rested on a shelf above the toilet. Across was the shower. After a moment of fiddling with the knobs, you managed to turn on the shower. The pressure was better than you had expected, and you thanked the heavens that you didn’t have to wait long for the hot spray. A hot shower was just what you needed to wash away your anxieties.

When you finished, you stepped out of the bathroom and slipped back into the sad pink slippers. Shigaraki was on the bed with a pizza.

“Figured you’d get hungry,” he said, shrugging his shoulders and helping himself to another slice.

You sat back down on the bed, staying in the corner you previously occupied before your shower.

“Thank you,” you said. You were thankful for the dull orangey lighting that hid your blush from Shigaraki’s scrutinizing red gaze.

The two of you ate in silence, watching whatever American drama Shigaraki had found. After a few hours, your exhaustion had caught up with you. Your yawning hadn’t gone unnoticed by Shigaraki.

“We should go to sleep now.” Shigaraki swung his lanky body off the bed to go turn off the lights.

“I could sleep on the floor, if you want,” you offered.

“No, it’s fine,” Shigaraki huffed. He clambered back onto the bed and refused to look at you as he pulled the blankets over him. “Just stay on your side.”

“Okay,” you sighed. “Goodnight, Shigaraki.”

“Goodnight,” came the rough reply you weren’t expecting.

Despite your heart pounding in your chest, loud enough that you swore Shigaraki could hear it as well, you drifted off with a smile on your face.

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Shigaraki never had a normal sleeping schedule. He was used to waking up at odd hours in the early morning while everyone else was asleep.

With a slight groan, Shigaraki stretched and turned to look at the cheap alarm clock on the bedside table on the other side of you. Electric red numbers stared back at his crimson eyes, reading 2:31. He looked at your dozing frame beside him, curled into the corner of the single bed in order to give him space. Slowly, so as not to disturb you, he slipped out of the bed. He was thankful for the rough carpet and not cold hard flooring as he padded his way to the cramped bathroom.

“Shit,” he whispered as he flicked on the lights. The buzzing of the fan echoed throughout the motel room. Shigaraki glanced over to your sleeping form to make sure he hadn’t disrupted you. Everything always seems too loud at two in the morning. But since you were asleep and he was trying to be quiet, everything felt truly too loud: the soft hum of the fluorescent bathroom lights, the irritating fan, the flushing of the toilet, the padding of his feet back across the dirty carpet, and the creak of the bed as he crawled back in beside you.

Shigaraki lay awake for some time, studying patterns in the horrendous popcorn ceiling like a child looking for shapes in the clouds. You lay fast asleep beside him. As Shigaraki listened to your gentle sleeping, he thought about what you meant to him. You had a valuable quirk for sure, and he was thankful for Kurogiri tipping him off about you. The truth was that he already knew of you. His eyes had been locked on you since the moment you walked into the bar, and when you went with him so willingly that fateful day, he thought he would melt on the spot.

Of course, Shigaraki had an image to uphold. He would die before admitting he had feelings for you. When you mentioned getting a motel, he couldn’t believe his luck. When there was only one room left, he thought he had to be in a dream. His fumbling with the key card was from his nervousness about sharing a room with you. He felt like a teenage boy trying and failing to impress you. His heart nearly leapt out of his throat when he saw the single bed in the motel room. When you stepped out of the bathroom wringing your hair out in a towel, head cocked adorably to the side, he thought he really had died earlier and gone to heaven, despite his actions on earth.

Shigaraki was terrified that you wouldn’t return his feelings. He was repulsive in his eyes. Who would want him with his scratchy voice, too high for a man in his opinion? His shaggy pale hair, rampant with dandruff? And his dry, flaking skin, that every lotion on earth never seemed to help? Looks aside, Shigaraki couldn’t take you out on dates. He couldn’t give you what you deserved. He couldn’t even hold your hand without risking your life. Shigaraki groaned as he dropped his face in his hands. Dabi would surely laugh at him if he could see him now.

A slight shaking of the bed broke him out of his thoughts. He turned to look at you as you continued to shiver. Shigaraki felt his heart swell as he took in your sleeping form. You were too good for him, having curled yourself onto the far side of the bed to give him enough room. You pushed the blankets off of yourself to keep him comfortable and warm.

Before he realized what he was doing, Shigaraki scooted himself closer to you. He pulled the blanket across him to cover your shivering form. It wasn’t until he had seen you relax that he was able to fall back into a dreamless sleep.

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The sun peeking through the gap in the curtains woke you up. The clock in front of you said it was only just past 7 A.M.

You hummed and tried to turn on your back, hoping to stretch your limbs, but something solid kept you from moving. You slowly opened your eyes, as though what you were hoping for would disappear if you opened them too quickly. It seemed too good to be true.

Curled into your back was the very object of your affections. His face was burrowed into his hair, and an arm was wrapped carefully around your waist. Even in sleep, he was careful not to touch you with all five fingers, instead curling his hand into a fist and tucking it underneath your bodies.

Gingerly, you tried to shift to relax your tensed muscles without disturbing Shigaraki.

“Stay,” you heard who was undeniably the man you were trying not to wake whisper. He nuzzled deeper into your hair and pressed his arm tighter against you.

“Okay,” you breathed, and relaxed against Shigaraki, a soft smile crossing your face, and fell back into a sweet sleep.

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[cooliogirl101]

When they meet, Hashirama is a 18-year-old boy who’s known as an idealist fool with dreams bigger than himself and Hisana is a 15-year-old civilian girl with a cranky, elderly donkey as her only companion.

“No, no, no, not again,” Hisana groaned as she woke up to see that Carrot had-- once again-- chewed through her ropes and was now chomping away at some flowers further down the road. “Goddammit, get back here, you stupid donkey!”

At the sight of Hisana running towards her, Carrot took off at a fairly impressive speed, considering she was 22 years old and had arthritis. Not for the first time, Hisana considered just letting her go-- but then, that wouldn’t do. There were wolves out there (probably), just waiting to make a meal out of some poor old donkey, and Carrot was pretty slow when she wasn’t making Hisana’s life difficult. She wouldn’t survive.

The sound of muffled laughter caught Hisana’s attention and she looked up to see a teenage boy perched in a tree (where had he even come from??), one hand covering his mouth in a very poor attempt at hiding his amusement.

“Need some help?” He offered, eyes glinting with humor as he took in Hisana’s sorry attempt at chasing down her donkey.

Hisana briefly considered turning him down to try and preserve what remained of her dignity, then glanced back at Carrot’s departing figure and promptly decided it was too early in the morning for things like personal pride and chasing down donkeys.

“If you don’t mind,” she said, only a little grudgingly. The stranger’s lips quirked up and he disappeared in a swirl of leaves, only to reappear holding Carrot’s reins a second later.

Hisana blinked. So he was a shinobi. Alrighty, then.

“Here you go,” the stranger said cheerfully, a grumpy donkey trotting behind him.

Scowling, Hisana marched up to Carrot and swatted her lightly on the head.

“Do that again and I’ll make donkey skewers out of you, don’t think I won’t,” she threatened. Carrot nudged at her, nosing around for something to eat, and Hisana sighed, wrapping her arms around Carrot’s neck in a hug before turning to the stranger.

“Thank you. Really,” she said, giving him a faint smile. “You saved me ten minutes of chasing after her.”

“No need to thank me! It was no trouble at all, honestly,” the stranger laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was glad to help.”

Hisana studied him for a moment. She didn’t think he was acting, exactly, but there was something almost scripted about the way he spoke, his posture, his expressions, every movement carefully telegraphed. Like he was taking care to appear as harmless as possible.

It didn’t take a genius to realize why. This may have been her first time encountering a shinobi in person, but she’d heard more than enough stories.

They’re killers, Hisana, plain and simple. People without honor, who slaughter children, innocents, each other-- whoever they’re paid to slaughter-- without hesitation or remorse. Monsters in every sense of the word.

“Hey, um,” she said slowly. “Have you eaten?”

“I beg your pardon?” The shinobi asked, startled.

“I asked if you’d had breakfast yet,” Hisana repeated. “If not, would you care for something to eat? I can offer you--” She paused to mentally take stock of her food inventory. “--leftover meat buns, half an apple, and some vaguely sketchy berries.”

The shinobi coughed.

“Vaguely sketchy berries?” He asked, lips twitching. Hisana shrugged.

“I mean, I’m pretty sure they’re harmless. I’ve been snacking on them for days and I haven’t died yet, which is a good sign.” She smiled at him. “So, breakfast?”

“Yeah,” the shinobi said quietly, after a pause. There was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, almost like he was waiting for her to withdraw her invitation. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

~~

“I’m Hisana, by the way.”

“Hashirama. It’s very nice to meet you, Hisana.”

~~

Hashirama ended up staying for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and then for another two days past that. Shinobi, it turned out, made for very good hunters, something Hisana discovered very quickly into their acquaintance.

“Hashirama,” she said, staring at the struggling rabbit in Hashirama’s hand. “This is the fifth rabbit you’ve brought me. I appreciate the thought, but--” She gestured helplessly in the general direction of the rabbit. “--it’s really too much.”

“It’s okay, you can save it for later!” His expression fell. “Unless you’re tired of rabbits? Wait no, of course you’d be tired of rabbits, I should have thought of that. I can get you something else instead? Maybe a pheasant? I think I saw some pheasants around here.”

Hisana studied him for a moment.

“Hashirama,” she said abruptly. “Why did you decide to travel with me?”

“What do you mean?” Hashirama asked, brow furrowed.

“I mean that I’m well-aware I’m slowing you down. Don’t deny it, you can’t tell me that your maximum speed is that of a twenty-something year-old donkey,” she said, exasperated. “I’m not the best at cooking, and we’ve already established that you’re a far better of a hunter than I am. So why stay? Why travel with me when it’d be easier for you to travel alone?”

He was quiet for a long moment.

“You knew I was a shinobi and invited me to stay anyway,” he said finally, voice soft. He wasn’t quite meeting her eyes. “And besides, I like talking to you.”

Hisana swallowed, caught off guard.

“And I like talking to you,” she replied quietly. “I didn’t invite you along because I wanted your protection, or someone to hunt for me, or anything like that, Hashirama, I did so because I have fun spending time with you. If you like catching rabbits or whatever, that’s fine. But don’t feel like you have to do so for my sake, or that you need to-- to prove something to me.”

Hashirama let out a slightly shaky laugh.

“I’m sorry. I guess I’m not very used to this,” he admitted. “You know, you’re the first civilian I’ve spent time with outside of a mission?”

“Well, you’re the first shinobi I’ve ever met,” she replied. He looked at her, surprised.

“Seriously? But you weren’t scared at all!” He exclaimed.

“Well, that’s on you,” she scoffed. “You weren’t very frightening.”

“Or maybe you’re just not very easy to scare,” he answered.

“If that helps your ego, sure,” Hisana grinned.

She reached down to stroke Carrot’s neck.

“So tell me, what was it like, growing up as a shinobi?

When Hashirama hesitated, she added, “You can lie about all the classified parts. It’s not like I would know, anyway.”

Hashirama laughed, shaking his head.

“Alright, then,” he said, smiling. “But I’m warning you, it’s really not as interesting as you’re probably imagining. I grew up in a large ninja clan, and--”

Bonus:

“Care to explain why you came back from your mission three days late?” Tobirama asked flatly. “Half the clan thought you’d died.”

Hashirama smiled, a slightly dreamy look in his eyes. Tobirama didn’t like it at all.

“Just took a detour, that’s all.”

The next time they meet, several years later, Hashirama is the newly appointed leader of his clan and Hisana has built a name for herself as a wandering clan-less healer (she listens for rumors of recent battles/bandit attacks/shinobi disputes and goes wherever there’s recent bloodshed. In doing so, she creates quite a few connections and ends up building the shinobi world’s largest, most detailed information network completely by accident).

[chatonne-rousse]

Turtle-y Awesome

@sketchy-panda sent me the following ask last week:

...and this is the story that sprang from that ask. You never know what you're going to get when you share a headcanon with me! 😉

Read it on Ao3 here.

"...et puit, quand il fut bien certain que personne ne pouvait le voir, Benjamin alluma sa veilleuse."

Adrien turns the last worn page and sets the book beside his knee on Hugo's bed.

"What do you think, kitten? Benjamin was turtle-y being a scaredy-cat, wasn't he?"

Hugo giggles, eyes bright. "He's not a cat, Papa, he's a turtle!"

Adrien nods sagely at his son. "Right you are," he says, patting the book's cover. "If this book tortoise anything, it's that Benjamin is definitely a turtle."

The number of turtle puns in the world is finite, and Hugo has heard his dad tell them all repeatedly, but he still laughs every time. The sound is music to Adrien's ears. He grins as he leans down to tuck the duvet around Hugo's shoulders and lifts his son's dark fringe to place a kiss on his forehead.

"Can we read another story, Papa? I'm not even tired."

Hugo's big green eyes scrunch shut as he yawns widely.

"Mmhmm. I can tell. You know what?" Adrien grabs another stuffed turtle from the bookcase and tucks it in beside the Carapace plushie already cradled in Hugo's arms. "Monsieur Vert looks very tired. He was almost sleeping over there! Maybe if you hold him really, really gently, that will help him fall asleep. I'm sure Carapace is tuckered out after a long day of superheroing, too."

"He is," Hugo says, nodding. He strokes his little hand up and over Monsieur Vert's soft shell. "I'll help them, Papa."

Adrien smiles even as his chest squeezes with emotion. "I know you will, my kind-hearted kitten." He can't resist pressing another kiss to Hugo's forehead and delights in receiving a loud, smacking kiss to his own cheek in return.

The turtle lamp on the nightstand is switched off and the Carapace nightlight beside the bookshelf activates, dim light glowing green through the plastic.

"Bonne nuit, ma petite tortue."

He watches his son cuddle his turtle and Carapace close as the closing door slowly eclipses the bed in shadow from the hallway light. Leaving the door open a crack, Adrien listens for a moment as Hugo gets comfortable in his bed.

He smiles as he pads down the hall toward Emma's room to join his wife for another round of goodnight kisses for their precious kittens.

*****

"Kitty, this is getting ridiculous. How is that the only thing he wants for his birthday?" Marinette shakes her head, but her grin betrays her lack of any real annoyance.

Adrien rubs his face and groans. "I know. Believe me, I know. Can you imagine if Nino knew?"

That surprises her. "You haven't told him? I told Alya ages ago when he said Carapace was his favorite." She thinks for a moment. "I don't think I've shared the, um...depth of the obsession, though."

He stares at her, deadpan, before they both laugh.

"Turtles I could handle, Mari. They're cute. They're green." He bats his eyes at her and she swats his arm playfully. "But Carapace? Carapace? When Chat Noir is right there? I don't get it."

"Awww, Chaton. Is my kitty jealous?"

"Of course not," he says, pouting, though he can't keep up the ruse and his smile breaks through. "Okay, maybe a little."

"Nino made a wonderful hero, and is the perfect holder for Wayzz, and you know it."

She scooches closer to him on the sofa and rubs his back gently. His eyes close for just a moment before opening them to find his wife gazing at him with what might just be his favorite look in her eyes - a teasing glint, a touch of heat, and an endless well of love. Everything goes fuzzy momentarily, but he catches her next words clearly.

"Besides, my favorite hero will always be Chat Noir. Always."

"Yeah?" he breathes.

She nods.

Her eyes go wide when he hauls her petite frame from the sofa beside him and settles her across his lap. She laughs as she wraps her arms around his neck and presses a kiss to his lips.

"What a coincidence, My Lady," he murmurs into the whisper of space between them, "because my favorite hero--" He pauses, kissing her again, "is also Chat Noir."

There's a beat of silence and then she's laughing, pressing her face into the crook of his neck to muffle her giggles. His arms tighten around her shaking shoulders as he laughs along with her, swept away by the sweet sound he will always love. There's no joy in the world quite like making his wife laugh.

"You know I'm kidding, Bug," he finally whispers into her hair when their laughter subsides. "Emma and I share a favorite hero. The greatest of all. Prettiest, too. Oh, wow, is she ever beautiful. And strong. And smart."

"Rena Rouge?" Marinette asks cheekily, her nose still pressed to his neck.

"Nooooo," he croons, tickling her sides until she laughs again. "It's Ladybug, jumping above, Lady magique et lady chance!"

"Kitty, no!" she begs through her giggles, "Don't get that in my head!"

"Too late!"

He silences the last of her laughter when he captures her lips with his, twin sighs mingling in the late-night quiet of the living room.

With forever in his arms and their shared future asleep down the hall, Adrien simply loses himself in this blissful moment, forgetting that their baby will turn five next weekend, that the passage of time is as inevitable as the dichotomy of creation and destruction. Wrapped up in his wife, time seems to stop altogether. Marinette - her love, her care, their unshakeable bond - is eternal.

But of course, the clock still ticks. And when they part a few minutes later, after one last kiss and a nuzzle of her nose against his, he still has to ask.

"So we're really throwing Hugo a Carapace-themed birthday party?"

She nods. "Yep."

"And we're buying him the new Shell-ter Secret Hideout Super Bunker, complete with Carapace action figure, power-ups, costume changes, a Turtle-mobile sports car that Nino never had, and four different colored shields that he also never had?"

"There's a jet, too, for some reason. But...yep."

Adrien nods slowly, a smile spreading across his face. "He's going to love it."

"Oh, he is," she affirms, her grin matching her husband's. "And so is Uncle Nino."

He snorts a laugh and pulls her close once more, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo.

"This'll be hilarious."

Marinette smiles against his shoulder.

"Yep."

*****

Everything is green.

Their normally colorful apartment seems to have transformed into an emerald dreamscape that doubles as a turtle sanctuary.

Everything is green, and there are turtles everywhere.

Sea turtles, tortoises, turtles of all kinds - including a certain turtle-themed superhero - adorn every surface. Adrien had been surprised by the amount of Carapace party merchandise he was able to find online. He's used to the numerous Carapace items in Hugo's bedroom, pieces he's added to his collection one by one over the past year or so. But this, his best friend's face dangling from streamers, emblazoned on little party hats, is just a little weird.

He's proud, though. A little jealous, a lot amused, and very, very proud. No desperately sad, pitifully lonely teenage boy has ever found a better friend than Nino Lahiffe. He's the brother of his heart, the mellow to his anxious, the staunch protector of their little group of best friends and hero teammates. Adrien has to admit that Hugo has great taste in favorite superheroes.

Someday he'll discover that his idol is also his Uncle Nino, but today is not that day. Today, the magic and wonder still shines in his son's eyes, and it's a beautiful thing.

Adrien putters around the kitchen making last-minute preparations to the food and drink selection, making sure there are plenty of cups and plates (all printed with a Carapace action scene, of course) stacked on the island. Oddly, he couldn't find Carapace napkins to go along with the other paper goods, but Marinette had saved the day by snagging a pack of sea turtle patterned napkins that coordinated perfectly in a pinch.

He smiles at the thought of his resourceful bug, his grin widening as he hears her welcome guests at the door. This is followed by a squeal of glee when Hugo and two of his classmates run off to his bedroom to play. Adrien shakes his head, still smiling. He'll have to lure them out in a bit with snacks and the promise of gifts and cake.

It's not like he doesn't already know from several years of experience that children's birthday parties are mostly adults mingling and intermittently making sure the kids don't get into too much mischief as they play together.

He takes the spinach quiche from the oven where it was warming up and sets it on the table with the other food, rebelliously placing a black potholder with a neon green pawprint pattern under the hot ceramic dish.

A towering, tiered tray of green macarons has pride of place on the dining room table, the top half of each cookie painted to look like a turtle's shell in edible glittering gold. They look almost too pretty to eat, and the same goes for the expertly-decorated turtle cake nearby, made by Hugo's grandparents and brought straight from the bakery for his big day.

The vegetable plate is an array of green, from broccoli to peppers to celery. The party has barely begun, but the celery is already running low, thanks to Emma's clandestine snacking in the hours beforehand.

Everything is green, and Hugo loves it. And that's what it's all about, really.

*****

Adrien is on his way back from checking in on the now half dozen kids playing in Hugo's room when he hears Alya's laughter from the entryway. Clearly she's spotted the party decor. He rounds the corner to find Marinette hugging her best friend, Alya's pregnant belly only getting in the way a bit and not stopping her from throwing her arms around Marinette's shoulders.

"Sorry we're late, Mari," she says, then pitches her voice to a stage whisper. "I had to pee. Twice." She leans back from the hug and cradles her bump. "Actually, I'm just going to..." She points down the hall, and Marinette laughs.

"Go for it, Als. We've all been there."

Nino is still crouched by the door, helping his daughter out of her jacket and shoes. He just shakes his head and laughs. She races off to find her "cousins" and Nino stands, kissing Marinette on each cheek and wrapping Adrien in a hug.

Surveying the apartment over Adrien's shoulder, he claps him on the back and says, "I love what you've done with the place. Very inspired design choice."

Adrien rolls his eyes and all three of them laugh.

"Hugo is obsessed with turtles. You have no idea."

"Oh, I think he has some idea, Minou." Marinette smiles at her husband over her shoulder, linking arms with Alya when she joins them again and ushering her into the green-bedecked living room.

He glances sidelong at Nino with a sheepish grin. "This isn't too weird for you, is it? It was all Hugo's idea. He hasn't stopped talking about his 'Carapace Turtle Party' for weeks," Adrien says, air quotes included.

"Nah, mec, it's cool. Kind of flattering." Nino raises an eyebrow and laughs. "What do you think he'll say when you tell him someday?"

Adrien just shakes his head. "Probably ask if you can adopt him and be his dad instead." His smile is teasing but just a touch rueful.

Nino laughs again. "No way, man. Number one, I've already got enough kids. Number two, you're the best dad. They love you like crazy, bro. Seriously."

His chest fills with warmth. Nino is such an incredible friend. And he's right (about the last bit, at least).

"They're incredible, Nino. Being a dad is..." He trails off, unable to find the words.

"I know, dude." He claps Adrien on the shoulder. "They're a pain in the ass, but they make up for it by being totally awesome."

Nino glances around, finally spotting the table full of green food and turtle-themed treats.

"Wait. Bro. Is that a turtle cake?"

*****

"You know," Nino says a few minutes later, washing down a matcha macaron with a swig of turtle punch, "I could get used to this. It would mess with my head, but after a while--" he looks at the cup with his face on it and shrugs, "it's not so strange. Better than having my face plastered on a billboard outside the Galeries Lafayette."

Adrien groans. "Et tu, Brute? Why would you remind me of that?"

"Because I can." Nino takes another bite of macaron and nudges his best friend's shoulder, laughing.

*****

As the kids snack and carry on, Adrien finally decides it's time to let his best friend see the Carapace shrine that is his son's bedroom.

Nino takes in Hugo's completely green, turtle-filled bedroom as Adrien waits with bated breath beside him for his reaction.

It is, as usual, relatively chill.

"Little dude has good taste!"

"Indeed." Wayzz peeks from Nino's collar with a pleased smile on his face. "The turtle has always symbolized wisdom, strength, and longevity." His tiny smile widens. "I'm also partial to the color green."

Nino steps farther into Hugo's room to examine the bookcase. "I...did not know they made this much Carapace merch."

"Believe me, there's more. We have to draw the line somewhere." Adrien closes his eyes and sighs. "Although he does brush his teeth with a Carapace toothbrush."

Nino's laugh starts as a snort and builds when he spots the Carapace wastebasket beside Hugo's bed and the Carapace plushie propped against his pillow. It turns positively raucous when he sees his best friend's face.

"Holy crap, dude," he wheezes. "This is hilarious. You must be so jealous."

"I am not!"

"You totally are."

"Well--" Adrien sputters, "Marinette is, too!"

"Not as much as you are, Kitty!" she calls from the living room.

Adrien throws his hands in the air. Nino doubles over.

"Chat Noir is cool, too," he mutters, petulant.

A still-laughing Nino pats his arm consolingly. "If it makes you feel any better, Chat Noir is my favorite hero...after Rena Rouge."

That actually does make him feel better, but he's not telling Nino that. Instead, he just grins a sly half-smile at his best friend. "Good save, man."

"Hey, I know which side my bread is buttered on, mec. Don't act like you don't."

Adrien is helpless to the smile that spreads across his face.

Nino groans. "You've been married for seven years, dude. Are you ever not going to go all gooey just thinking about Marinette?"

Adrien quirks an eyebrow and glances sidelong at him. Nino nods once and pats Adrien's shoulder.

"That was a dumb question, wasn't it?"

"Yep," Marinette says from the hallway behind them.

Adrien's heart beats faster at the twinkle in her eye. He wonders how much she heard. Probably all of it - she always did have sonic hearing, but motherhood seemed to ramp it up to eleven. Not much escapes his wife.

"Time for cake and presents," she announces. "Nino, you can revel in Hugo's Carapace shrine later."

"And I will, don't you worry," Nino says with a laugh as he turns to head back to the party.

Adrien throws an arm over his best friend's shoulder and smiles brightly at Marinette.

Hugo has merch, but Adrien has a real, live Ladybug who promised eternity to her Chat Noir. He holds his own favorite superhero in his arms every night, and nothing, nothing compares to that.

*****

Surrounded by wrapping paper and bows, the birthday boy sits on the floor with one last gift in front of him. The box is taller than he is when seated, and he has to stand up on his knees to tear the paper off the top. As soon as he can see what's inside, he shouts with glee and jumps to his feet. Overjoyed, he scampers around the coffee table to his parents, first thanking Marinette with a hug and kiss, then getting swept up in Adrien's arms for a bear hug.

The fact that Hugo doesn't push away from him to return to his barely-unwrapped gift is not lost on him, nor is the fact that he abandoned it and thought to thank them first in his excitement.

Sometimes Adrien feels like he's been given so much more than he deserves. Marinette alone is a blessing beyond his imagination, but Emma and Hugo, too? It's too much and he knows it, so he holds them close and relishes every single moment like this one with his little boy hugging him tight and murmuring thanks into his neck.

A few minutes later finds Hugo examining every detail of his new treasure (after Adrien wrangled all the parts out of their plastic-encased prison).

He claps his hands when he sees that this set comes with a bonus Chat Noir action figure in addition to Carapace and his shields of many colors.

"Maman!" he cries, jubilant, holding Chat Noir above his head so she can see. "Look! It has Chat Noir! You love Chat Noir!"

Blushing, Marinette pointedly avoids looking in the direction of the two moms of Hugo's school friends who've stayed for the party but smiles widely at her son. "I do. He's my favorite superhero of all time."

Hugo nods, turning to his dad where he sits beside him on the floor, struggling to snip the tiny plastic anchors holding each piece to the cardboard backing.

"See, Papa? He's Carapace's sidekick."

"Hey!" Adrien says indignantly. He looks up from the mess of cardboard and plastic in his lap as Marinette, Alya, and Nino laugh.

Nino, best bro that he is, chimes in. "Nah, little man, Chat Noir is no one's sidekick. He's way too brave and cool for that." He grins at Hugo and points first to the Carapace action figure on the coffee table and then to Chat Noir in his hand. "They're a team. Best friends and superheroes at the same time. That's why they're so awesome."

Hugo looks at the Chat Noir figure for a long moment. "Wow," he breathes. "Chat Noir is as cool as Carapace." He says it like a revelation that's rocked his entire worldview.

Alya sniffles and Marinette hands her a tissue.

"Okay, but Ladybug is still the coolest," Emma pipes up from Hugo's other side.

All the adults besides Marinette nod. Adrien reaches around Hugo to pat Emma's back.

"You're absolutely correct, kitten."

Marinette blushes again and Alya blows her nose.

Hugo tucks Carapace into the driver's seat of the Turtle-mobile with Chat Noir beside him as his passenger, racing the sports car across the rug toward his friends so they can play with his new toys, too.

Adrien looks from his son to his own best friend, and Nino gives him a thumbs up and a grin.

*****

Later, when the dishes are washed and their living room looks slightly less like a turtle habitat, Adrien sits on the sofa with a cup of tea and watches Hugo play with his new, treasured birthday gifts. The Shell-ter Secret Hideout Super Bunker is open, its many accessories strewn around Hugo where he sits cross-legged, Carapace in his left hand and Chat Noir in his right.

"I'll protect you!" "Carapace" cries, Hugo's voice pitched to sound brave and true but still carrying his sweet child's tone.

"Thank you for keeping My Lady safe, Carapace!"

Adrien snorts a surprised laugh into his tea. "Chat Noir" speaks in a husky growl, though Hugo gives him a note of cheery confidence, as though he truly appreciates Carapace's brave deeds, as though Chat Noir can take the decisive cataclysmic swing knowing his beloved partner is safe from harm.

And honestly, Hugo has the right of it. Adrien wonders how his son could possibly know that this exact scene - with slightly different dialogue, of course - played out many times over, years before he was born.

Hugo mimics the sound of an explosion, then an "oof!" as Chat Noir falls to his back but springs up again quickly. Just as Carapace returns to Chat's side with a confident, "What can I do to help save the day, Chat Noir?", Marinette's hands snake around Adrien's shoulders from behind, surprising him.

He sets his mug on a coaster on the end table and wraps his hands around her forearms, pulling her in closer. Leaned over the back of the sofa, she nuzzles his cheek with hers before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"I think we pulled off the dream turtle party pretty well, don't you, Chaton?"

"Oh, we turtle-y did."

Adrien delights in the huff of laughter she exhales against his cheek. That might be the most overused pun in the house, but sometimes it still lands just right. They watch Hugo play, matching grins making their cheeks press closer together.

"Looks like that was one shell of a gift, eh?"

He swoons dramatically, his head falling to the back cushion of the sofa so he looks at Marinette upside-down. "My Lady, you know what it does to me when you pun."

"Oh, I do," she says, completely unapologetic, and boops his nose.

He just has to lean up to kiss her because, well, she's so beautiful and he loves her so much and she's right there.

They break apart a moment later when they hear Emma call for Marinette from her bedroom. She plants one last upside-down kiss on his forehead and lets her hands drift slowly across his chest and shoulders as she stands.

She gives him a wry smile. "Duty calls."

"Hmmm," he hums thoughtfully, picking up his tea and taking another sip. "And here I thought her name was Emma."

Marinette groans at him as she walks away, and the sound catches Hugo's attention.

"Papa? Will you play superheroes with me?"

Of course. Always. I will never, ever be too busy for my kittens, he thinks.

"Sure, buddy," he says instead.

Finishing his tea in one big gulp, he slides from the sofa and scampers on hands and knees like a giant cat to where his son is playing. Hugo giggles at his dad's ridiculousness.

Adrien takes stock of the many accessories scattered around the play set and asks, "What are Chat Noir and Carapace up to today?"

Hugo explains the situation, the bad guy's motives, and what the heroes need to do to save Paris from disaster. Adrien listens carefully. Looking up at him with green eyes that match his own, big and wide and crinkled at the corners with his happy smile, Hugo offers the Chat Noir action figure to his dad.

"Will you be Chat Noir, Papa? He's Carapace's best friend in the world and they need to work together to save the day."

Adrien cradles the action figure in one hand and gently pats the pocket where Plagg hides with the other. His kwami presses a paw against his chest in return. Overwhelmed, all he can do is grin at Hugo and try not to cry.

"It would be my greatest honor," he vows grandly, holding up a hand in oath. "I purr-omise to be the best hero I can be. Cat's honor."

Hugo laughs. "You said honor twice."

"So I did. That's because it's very important."

His son nods solemnly, then reaches for Carapace's super jet. He places the hero in the cockpit and flies the jet around his head, making zooming noises.

"Are you ready, Chat Noir? I'm coming to pick you up!"

The jet has only one seat, but that doesn't seem to bother Hugo. Adrien readies the tiny plastic baton in Chat Noir's hand and uses it to vault from his own knee into the imaginary sky over Paris.

"Meow-velous!" he crows, delighted. "This cat is ready to be whiskered away in your very realistic jet! Allons-y, my turtle friend!"

Hugo giggles, Adrien's heart melts, and they set off on a grand adventure together.

[tintinwrites]

dulce periculum | Demon!Max Phillips x Reader | Part One

A/N: I know this is a unique AU but that is what I must do!! Thanks so much to @wheresthewater for helping me brainstorm this fic as well as reading it for me!! Cori is always a gem to interact with. ‘Dulce periculum’ means ‘danger is sweet’ in Latin.

Rating: T

Warning: AFAB!Reader. Demon!Max. The big, big warning that I want you to pay attention to is that the beginning of this fic can be very frightening; Max kidnaps the reader, and though his intentions aren’t necessarily malicious, it’s from Reader’s POV and they have no idea what he’s doing, so they’re very scared and intimidated. Max makes a couple of threats. Naughty words. Max is a pervert, as always.

Word count: 4,556, apparently!!

Summary: You’re on your way home from work when you’re kidnapped by a mob boss who wants to hide out in your apartment. He turns out to be more annoying than he is frightening.

GIF credit: thewaythisis

Tags: @zombieaurora @strangelittlenobody @chattychell @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind @beesting77 @thefandomimagines @softly-sad​ @phoenixhalliwell @hopplessdreamer​ @buttercup--bee​ @honeymandos​ @artsymaddie​ and open!

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

It was late as you made your way home, the damp sidewalks lit by street lights and signs for late night establishments. There were still cars driving by seeing as it was a big city, though fewer than usual, the sounds of their tires splashing into puddles accompanying you on your walk.

Any other people you saw were going home as well or looking around to see if anyone was watching them as they stepped into the seedy strip club. The building sat between a questionable deli and an adult video store; the girls inside were as beautiful as any other strip club, but the owners were sketchy as hell.

These were all things you mused to yourself so you would be occupied.

You agreed to stay at work way later than usual — four hours later, to be exact — and your phone was on about ten percent battery by the time you left. Since your apartment building was only a few blocks away and you didn’t want your phone to die, you were just observing the city streets as you walked.

Everything was rather quiet aside from those puddles being driven through and the muffled, pumping music you could hear when passing by certain buildings.

And yet, you were almost uneasy. You always felt safe in the city, both where you lived and where you worked, but there was something about this particular quiet night that made you tense whenever someone walked by you.

You’d been overworking yourself, that was all it was, right? You needed a good nap and a drink because this was the fourth night you’d stayed later. That was bound to affect anyone’s mental wellbeing.

You kept trying to reason with yourself each time the people passing you didn't so much as spare a glance at you, but you just couldn’t.

You would’ve gotten an Uber or hailed a taxi just to sate your paranoia if it weren’t for the fact that you were only a block away from your apartment. You could see the building and you were just psyching yourself out, it would’ve been silly to have someone drive you the short distance.

There was no reason to be afraid; you were safe, you were capable. The apartment was within sight and you were about to be home.

Movement up ahead at the mouth of an alley made you stop in your tracks, breath hitching like you needed to hold it so no one would know you were there.

When a stray cat ran out of the alley and scampered across the street with some food in its mouth, your shoulders immediately dropped.

You were being paranoid.

It took a moment for you to gain your composure before you continued walking, almost amused at yourself for being scared by a scrawny cat just hunting for food.

Just as you were about to completely pass the alley, there was a tight grip on your arm and you were yanked between the buildings.

You didn’t even realize what happened until your back was against a brick wall and there was a hand completely covering your mouth; then all that paranoia seemed to be logical and you let out a not-very-intimidating squeak as you attempted to shove the person off.

They didn’t try to pin you down more than they were, but they didn’t even budge despite the way you were hitting and shoving at them. When you changed your tactic and grabbed onto their arm to pull their hand away, you couldn’t move it half an inch.

“You done?” a deep male voice asked boredly.

You were tired from working so much and from how hard you were trying to fight him off, your adrenaline quickly fading as you realized you couldn’t get him away. You went limp against the wall and looked at him with fearful eyes, figuring you could at least get a good description of him.

Unless he murdered you.

He was partly obscured by the darkness of the alley, but you could see half his face from what little bit of the streetlight reached him. His eyes and hair were dark, average height, slim, and...he was wearing a suit. Was this some business man who moonlighted as a mugger or something? Did you want to know what he did as a day job?

“Okay, good. Now, do everything I say and I won’t hurt you, okay?” He explained this to you with an oddly lighthearted tone like he was telling you about his hobbies, and you furrowed your brow as you reached for your wallet. “No, no, no. Not that. Do you live nearby? Tell me the truth, I will know if you’re lying.”

The man switched from jovial to threatening so quickly that it terrified you into quickly nodding; you didn’t want to know what he would do if you lied.

He flashed you a smile that might’ve been charming if he didn’t have you pinned against a wall at the moment. “Good, good. Now we’re gonna walk together and, uh...let’s say I’m your boyfriend and you’re taking me to your place, so you don’t have to ask anybody for help.”

What the fuck did he want? You closed your eyes, but opened them when he shook you lightly to get your attention.

“I’m gonna take my hand off now and you’re going to walk me to your apartment. Can you do that for me, slugger?” The name only made you more perplexed by this man, but you nodded in agreement to his instructions.

He pulled his hand from your mouth very slowly to be certain you weren’t going to scream. All you did was pant softly as you stared at him, knowing that no one would come quickly enough if you did try to scream.

Satisfied, he wrapped his arm around your middle and quickly pulled you against his side as he walked out of the alley. He paused to wait for you to take the lead, letting you take a moment to gather your bearings.

You were shaking as you slowly started walking him in the direction of your apartment, trying to think up a way out of this.

Your phone was underneath his hand in your jacket pocket so you couldn’t sneakily try to text anyone. Being at your own apartment would work in your favor because you knew where everything was, including anything you could use as a weapon.

Could you run into the kitchen and grab a chef’s knife? Maybe the vase on your windowsill in the living room could be used to hit him over the head?

A bit of hope sparked within you when you saw one of your neighbors was standing outside, smoking a cigarette; he knew you were single, he knew you didn’t have a boyfriend to bring home.

“Evening,” he drawled as he looked at you, before his gaze moved to the man who was tightening his grip on you.

“Hey,” you said levelly so the man wouldn’t think you were raising suspicion, but you did your best to show terror in your eyes.

Your neighbor regarded him for a long moment before chuckling and shooting him a wink, obviously assuming this was a hookup or something. “Guess I should keep my ear to the wall tonight, huh?”

You wanted to cry as the man at your side led you into the building, looking back desperately until he pulled you into the elevator.

“Which floor?” He shook you when you didn’t answer him, and you reached out to begrudgingly push the number for your floor.

The elevator ride seemed to take forever as you panicked about what he intended to do to you.

He expected you to lead him towards your apartment and you did, pulling out your key and unlocking the door with shaking hands. He shoved the door open and yanked you in as soon as it was unlocked, surveying the room before shoving you towards the couch.

“Sit down.” He walked away as you practically fell onto the couch from his manhandling.

You were supposed to be grabbing a weapon, but you seemed to be frozen in terror as you watched the man peer through the blinds out to the street. “Are you going to kill me?”

He lifted his head and looked at you over his shoulder, his eyebrows raised like you were insane. “Kill you? Oh, come on, don’t be dramatic.”

“—you kidnapped me.” You just stared at him as he turned to face you, putting his hands into the pockets of his pants as he shrugged.

“Is it really kidnapping if it’s in your own home?” He started walking around, pulling one of his hands out of his pocket to touch your knick knacks and things.

“Okay, you’re...holding me hostage then.” You watched him warily and with a hint of bemusement at his antics.

“Listen, pal.” He plopped down on the couch and, able to move now, you slid away from him. “I need a place to hide out. Sorry I scared you or whatever, but let’s be honest, would you have listened to me if I said I needed to stay with you?”

You would’ve brushed him off as someone looking for a hookup or a person to sponge off of if he asked to stay with you, but that didn’t mean he should’ve kidnapped you.

“I’m not letting you ‘hide out’ here.” You let out a gasp when he immediately grabbed onto your face and forced you to look at him, his eyes dark.

“I’m not going to kill you, but you should know that I can.” His voice was deeper when he was threatening you, but then he went right back to a beaming smile as he let you go like he hadn’t done a thing. “Anyway, I’m Max. What’s your name?”

Years of politeness had you stuttering out your name despite this ‘Max’ guy being an actual fucking madman. Now that you could see him in the light, you were almost certain that you’d seen him somewhere before…

He seemed to notice the curiosity in your eyes as he leaned back into the couch, looking rather smug. “Max Phillips.”

It took about seven seconds for you to connect his name and face with the articles you read and the stories you heard; you moved off the couch so quickly that you tripped over your own feet and fell to the floor.

You immediately turned onto your backside and scrambled away from him. He regarded you with a raised eyebrow.

“So you’ve heard of me.” He rolled his eyes as you backed yourself into a wall, not even moving to stop you.

“You’re the mob boss!” You were stating the obvious since he was him, but you were too horrified to be intelligent.

He was ruthless. You heard what he did to people who went against him or people who didn’t do what he wanted, read the articles of gruesome things that were suspected to be because of him.

Now he was in your apartment. And he wanted to stay with you.

“I know, I know. I am incredible.” He grabbed a book you’d been reading off the end table beside the couch, making a face at it before putting it back down. “You know something else about mob bosses, though?”

“That you’re fucking sadistic?” Your voice shook and you cowered slightly as he stood up.

He crouched down in front of you and just stared at you silently for a long moment before finally saying, “You only get hurt if you’re on their bad side. And being on their good side has...benefits.” His eyes roamed over you hungrily at the mention of the word ‘benefits’ before he looked at your face. “So what do you say? Are you gonna let me stay or do you really wanna kick me out?”

As you stared up at this man and understood the very meaningful look on his face, you supposed that you really had no other choice.

“—you’re not sleeping in my bed.”

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

Once you had a bit of time to calm down and think over what Max wanted, you figured you were just going to have to deal with it.

You couldn’t really retaliate against a mob boss, so it was best to just keep him happy until he was done hiding from whoever was after him.

This meant you were pretty much on autopilot as you set up a bed for him on the couch, thankful somewhere in the back of your mind that he didn’t insist on sleeping in your bed.

He plopped down on the couch the moment you fit a baggy sheet onto the cushions, bouncing a few times before he laid back and looked up at you. “Where’d you find this ancient thing anyway?”

“Thrift store,” you mumbled as you handed him a pillow.

“Oh.” Max made a face and sat up to remove his suit jacket, folding it and moving to put it on the coffee table, only to pause. “Everything here is from a thrift store, isn’t it? I bet you’re renting this closet of an apartment from a thrift store.”

That took you off autopilot for a second as you turned to glare at him. “Need I remind you that I’m letting you hide out in this closet?”

“Ooh, claws. I like it.” He looked you over like he hadn’t threatened you into letting him stay when you sassed him before. “I think we should have angry sex.”

“I think I should go to bed and lock the door.” You didn’t know whether to be afraid of him or annoyed by him.

He was incredibly intimidating when he would threaten you, but then he was mostly just an obnoxious pervert otherwise from what you could tell. He seemed to rely on a sexual, jovial sense of humor.

“Thanks for doing this,” he called after you as you walked to your bedroom, too loud like he wanted you to acknowledge and appreciate his gratefulness. “Sleep tight, and hey! If the mood strikes, I’d be happy to sleep in your tight—”

You slammed the door shut before you could hear the rest of his suggestion, deciding that you could be scared and annoyed.

Mostly, you were just tired from working so much and dealing with Max, so you fell into bed with the hopes that he would leave in the morning.

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

He didn’t.

As a matter of fact, you were woken up bright and early by the sound of music blasting from your living room.

You thought for a moment that everything that happened was a dream until you stumbled out of your bedroom, half dressed since you didn’t even take off all your clothes before falling asleep, and you saw Max flipping through a photo album.

You made your way over to the speaker where the overtly sexual music was blasting from, smacking at the buttons blindly in your attempts to turn the volume down.

When you finally found it and turned it down to barely a whisper, you sagged against the table in relief and closed your eyes. “Did you have to turn it up that loud?”

He didn’t answer you at first and you opened your eyes to find him taking a picture out of the album, looking it over with a whistle. “Did anyone ever tell you that your great grandma was sexy?”

“No,” you said flatly, walking back towards your bedroom. “Please keep the music down. I’m going back to bed.”

“Aren’t you going to make breakfast?” His question made you stop in your tracks and walk backwards to look at him.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I don’t know my way around your kitchen or how to use things properly, and I’d hate to break anything.”

You could tell by his fake innocent smile that he was being a brat and vaguely threatening you again. You wanted to just go to bed anyway, but you also wouldn’t put it past him to actually go and start breaking things in your kitchen.

With a roll of your eyes and a grumbled insult towards him, you made your way into the kitchen to start making his breakfast.

“I like my eggs scrambled with a little salt and pepper!”

As you stood there in the kitchen with your head in your hands, you remembered what you’d been wondering the night before.

You were more annoyed by him than you were scared of him, and you weren’t certain if that was a good thing or not.

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

Max Phillips had been staying with you for nearly a month now and you had to admit that...it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be.

In the beginning, you’d seen an intimidating mob boss who was forcing you to let him take residence in your home, and you had no idea what he was going to do to you during his stay.

Now you knew that, though he could be threatening and you had no doubt that he could do damage to you if he wanted to, he was mostly just an obnoxious, perky, lascivious frat boy who loved attention.

But he still let you go to your job and live your normal life, and though he liked to make a lot of perverted comments, he’d never once actually touched you or done anything to you.

So you guessed it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been to have a mob boss staying at your apartment.

Even if he always asked for the same thing for breakfast and would complain if it was slightly wrong, and between that and every stupid, sexual joke he made, you wanted to serve him a fried egg covered in sugar just to annoy him.

There were also times where you were almost certain his eyes were red or he had horns or something, but you chalked that up to your dislike of him and how you’d been tired or on your second glass of wine when you saw that.

He never actually hurt you and your apparently very low standards were thankful for that.

You also would never admit it, but you’d been lonely and having someone to come home to who filled the silence was...nice. It could be annoying as all hell depending on what he was talking about, but sometimes he was funny.

Sometimes he’d ask about your day, make a comment about how he could ‘take care’ of someone for you or turn the way you phrased something into a sex joke.

Sometimes you would laugh at a joke or you would have a genuine conversation that made you forget he was who he was.

Then he would invite himself into your bed like he did every night and that would be the temporary end of your camaraderie, as well as your reminder that he was an annoying jerk.

But it was nice on occasion. To not be alone.

There were times you thought you could even like the man if it weren’t for the situation and the fact that he’d always ruin any pleasant conversations you had. Maybe there were times that you did like him, or at the very least tolerated him.

You guessed that was why you were almost disappointed when he told you that his men had settled everything and he could leave. You were going to be alone again.

You were going to miss when he would actually start helping you fold clothes and he would just be quiet for a minute as he listened to you talk about your day.

But you weren’t going to miss the way he would ask if you wanted him to eat you out to help you relax, so it was easy for you to focus on your relief that he was leaving.

You could deal with loneliness if it meant he wasn’t going to be there, staring at your ass and saying anything he could think of to rile up.

“Don’t look so sad about it, angel face.” That was a nickname he’d taken to calling you every time he pissed you off; you supposed a way to mock your angry expression or something.

“I’m not...sad.” You scoffed, though you knew that you were a little bit, way deep down. You hadn’t hid that in your eyes quickly enough before you were relieved at the idea of him leaving.

“Whatever you need to convince yourself that you don’t totally want me.” He straightened the jacket of yet another suit, and sometimes you wondered when he took the time to grab more of them. “I understand if you need a goodbye kiss. Maybe a good fuck.”

“And that’s why I’m glad you’re leaving. Let me get the door for you.” You turned to walk over to the door, but Max’s grip on your arm had you looking back at him questioningly.

His eyes were serious for once; no humor, no lust. He was looking at you like he did the times you would have a brief, real conversation. “I’m indebted to you. Let me do something for you.”

You were momentarily taken aback by his sincerity, but you gathered yourself after a moment and smiled at him. “Leaving me alone forever will suffice.”

“Seriously.” He pulled you back when you tried to walk away again, making you roll your eyes at him. “I have connections. I can give you anything you want.”

“Anything?” You raised an eyebrow, a little convinced considering he didn’t mention how he could even give you something sexual if you wanted it.

“Anything.”

“I want a million dollars.”

“Okay, done.”

“No, wait!”

He had started towards the door like he was genuinely going to go off to get you that million dollars, and now you were the one grabbing his arm and pulling him back. You looked at him for any hint of a joke, biting your lip.

“You’re serious?” you asked slowly.

“I’m serious. Name it, it’s done.”

You stared at him and before you could stop yourself, you said, “I want my dream job, but there are never any openings and everyone beats me to it when there are and— and what am I saying? You’re a mob boss, you’re just asking if there’s anyone you can kill for me.”

You supposed you mentioned it because you hoped he had connections in your industry and could pull strings, but…

Max took hold of your chin and tilted your head up from where you were looking at the floor, smirking at you. “Done.”

You just looked at him with your brow furrowed and your mouth in an O shape, torn between asking him if he could actually do it and thanking him. You were just about to do the latter when there was suddenly a piece of paper in front of your face.

“I just need you to sign this contract!” He was back to his normal obnoxious self, pulling the paper away before you could even blink and setting it down on your dining table.

“Where the hell were you keeping that?” You hadn’t seen him take it out of any pockets and even if he had, the paper would have had to have been folded up to fit.

It was perfectly pristine, not a single mark on it, so where…

He then procured a dip pen and an inkwell from a place you decided you didn’t want to know about, then he guided you over to the table and shoved you down in a chair. “Just sign your name on the line there, cursive or print.”

“What is this for?” you asked once you’d wrapped your head around what he was asking you to do. You picked up the contract to look at it, but he quickly plucked it out of your hands.

“Oh, you know, standard. I can’t be held liable if it doesn’t turn out exactly how you want it, blah, blah, blah.” He set it back down and dipped the pen into the ink, forcing it into your hand. “Sign it.”

“Give me a minute!” Your eyes scanned over the contract to find that it mostly was just about liability and binding the agreement, but you needed to get closer to read some fine print at the bottom.

“Can I have a glass of water?” Max’s face popped up between you and the paper, making you jump back.

You just blinked for a second before gently pushing his face away so you could read. “Be my guest.”

You just started to read the fine print again when Max started humming. The music was familiar and you realized it was a tango, but you tried not to let it distract you from reading.

Just when you managed to make some headway on reading the first line, you were yanked out of your chair and pulled up against Max’s body.

Before you could even ask what he was doing, he gripped your hand and thrust your arm straight out with his as he began a rhythmic stride across the room, humming the music all the way.

“What are you doing?!” You let out a yelp as he turned around jarringly and started to step the other way.

“You’ve never tangoed before?” He spun you out and made you crash into the chair you’d been sitting in, only saved by his hand in yours before he twirled you back into his chest.

“I’m trying to read your contract!”

“You sign it and I promise you, the job you want is yours. You just have to sign it!” He dipped you right by the table so the paper was in your peripheral vision, panting slightly. “Sign it.”

He pulled you back up and stepped away from you, as you stared at him in a daze because he actually just made you tango with him.

But then his promises that you would get the job sank in. You looked at the contract for a moment and, as your desire for your dream job won over your curiosity about the fine print, you grabbed the pen and signed it.

You stumbled back with a gasp when the contract immediately went up into flames and disappeared from the table. “What the fuck—”

Max grabbed you again, but this time he spun you around and slammed his lips against yours in a passionate kiss. You raised your hands to push him away at first, only to slowly grip onto his suit jacket when you found that he was a good kisser.

Your eyes closed as you kissed him back, forgetting about how annoying he was or the few threats he’d used on you, forgetting about his work, just letting yourself get lost in this.

For the briefest moment, you were mad at yourself for never giving in to any of his obnoxious offers to join you in bed.

He pulled away from you and you just stood there with your eyes closed for a moment, lips still parted like you wanted him to continue his work.

“Max,” you gasped out when he didn’t say anything or move to kiss you again, reaching out to pull him back.

But when you opened your eyes in search of him, he was gone.