#i thin​k i’m close to an art block

[sherbet-shark]

Congrats of your follower milestone! 💜 For the Spotify playlist event, may I request “🌸13. “Livin’ on a Prayer, take my hand, we’ll make it. I swear Woah- oh!”Livin’ on a Prayer by Bon Jovi” with Jack? …he’s my favorite, I can’t help it 🤣

Thank you so, so much your all of your beautiful writing and the joy it brings! I hope you have a lovely vacation— you definitely deserve it!

~It’s my life~

Author’s note: Hey there, stranger /lightheartedly sarcastic. Yes! My trip was enjoyable! 100/10 would do again. It was a nice breather from everything and a reward from college. I’m so grateful to have someone so supportive of my works and myself in my inbox!! I have so many sweet followers that I want to give a flower to platonically.

This request used my special event that has closed.

Anyhow, the one the only Jack Howl is coming right up~

Trigger Warnings: Heights, Cussing, usage of you/yours pronouns, Ace being a little shit

Word count: 2.k

Clouds gently dot the sky as you cling to the red-haired boy in front of you on the thin wooden stick—the blanket of green meeting your fearful gaze. The man teasingly laughs at your fear, poking fun at your apprehension. The windy breeze ruffles your P.E. uniform and hair, brushing your face.

Your stupid friend Ace rounding you up into riding his broom in P.E. class was irritating. He spurred you on, remarking that you were a chicken for not wanting to fly above. You should trust him because of how strong his flight magic became with Professor Vargas’ teaching– to which Vargas proudly beamed at the loud, no doubt fake praise. Trappola happily grabbed his broom and ushered you onto the magical tool, and lifted you into the air.

Grim’s loud, displeased yowls meet your ears as the grey creature curses his so-called friends. Ace points the broom in the talking cat’s direction, announcing, “Sorry, Grim! I think you’re too fat from all those cans of tuna. I didn’t want to risk the broom falling— Hah! Ouch!” Hitting the 1st year on the head, you yell your apologies to your companion.

“Grim’s not fat! Shut up!”

“Yeah! I’m not fat! Get back down here so I can burn your ass!” Grim exclaims as he runs towards his flying friends. Ace glares at you as he instinctively brings a hand to rub the back of his head. With the sudden change of the rowdy first year’s grip, the broom juts to the right, then down.

“Oh!”

“Op, that’s my cue- hold on, Prefect! We’re going up!” Ace scrambles to adjust his firm grip on the unruly broom and nervously chuckles at his mistake as you glare holes in the back of his head. The skin on your knuckles pulled taught and white down on the polished wood, and the bumpy ride makes your nerves prickle to attention and shut your eyes. Praying to whatever higher power, there was that you wouldn’t die from Ace’s stupid tricks. As the two of you flew higher to the sky, everything below started to look like ants as Ace distantly heard Vargas shouting that it was high enough and it was time to go down.

He counted himself lucky that it seemed like you couldn’t hear the instructor’s voice, and he reveled in the warm breeze greeting him—unknowing what would happen in the next twenty minutes.

Down on the ground, Vargas’ shouts fell on deaf ears as he stopped running after the two runaways, ‘They’re going way too high. Those clouds are moving fast the other way too. A strong gust is going to hit soon.’ The brunet man scans the skies as he sees rolls of clouds block the sun. He needed to act fast, or else those foolish kids would get hurt.

“Howl, Felmier! Get your brooms! There will be a nasty gust soon, and I doubt Trappola’s stamina is as great as mine. That boy’s magic is already wearing. Falling won’t be their only concern. Get those two down.”Vargas gritted his teeth at the thought his students jumped head first into flight but was also glad that his class was a joint class with A and B classes. He had two-star pupils that had a good enough mastery of the art.

The two students, with their mouths agape at the brazen acts of Ace and the prefect, straighten and nod their heads, wasting no time; they grab their brooms, and Jack starts to ride the wind but not before Grim runs and jumps into Epel’s embrace.

“G-grim?! What in tarnation— What are you doing?!” Epel protests as he looks down at his hands to see Grim’s angry yet pouty face as he tells how he was still pissed at Ace’s mean remark and wanted to see his humiliated face when he was rescued and yelled at the Prefect for abandoning him. Shrugging at Grim’s oddly placed determination, Epel lifts off from the ground, trying to catch up to Jack’s pace.

Vargas places a hand on his hip, and the other covers his eyes, watching the four students in the sky. Usually, he’d never allow fellow students to fly so high, and he’d do it himself but having a large class for the day had his hands tied. Professor Vargas turns his gaze from the skies to his students, still watching with a dumbfounded expression painting each face. He brings his whistle to his lips and obnoxiously blows it, rounding the students up for an intense weight muscle circuit as punishment and to trample any more thoughts.

Epel’s grip tightens on his broom as he finally catches up to the beastmen. “J-Jack! Are you doing ok? I know you and the prefect are dating… so this might be a surprise. I know it was one hell- I mean startling to see Ace and them do that….” The Pomefiore student softly remarks as Grim nods and complains, but the cat-like monster complaints go from one ear and out the other as Epel looks at Jack’s expression.

It was focused and unreadable. Maybe Jack was angry that Ace talked you into this situation? The lilac-haired 1st year didn’t know what he was thinking, but after a while, Howl only muttered a quiet agreement.

Mere minutes passed as the winds got more intense as the clouds gathered, entirely blocking out the sun. As Jack leans forward to urge his magical broom to move faster, the tiny figures of the renegades become bigger and bigger but more erratic with their steadiness. Ace could feel his magic was waning, but he and his passenger got caught in a slight mid-draft. Even if the red haired man wanted to, the gust was too strong.

“A-Ace, I think we should go down to the field now. It’s pretty dark now and gusty and- wait, is that shouting?” You brush your shoulder with him, beckoning Ace’s attention as the wind carries a couple of familiar voices as you turn around to see where they came from.

“Jack?! Epel?!” Rearing both of your heads to your fellow peers right below, probably avoiding the wild gust.

“Prefect! Ace! Professor Vargas is pretty upset; to come down here before he puts all of us through his hell of a workout.” Epel explains as Grim’s ear flames burn warmer at the colder temperatures.

“Prefect! Get on to my broom! Ace’s getting more tired. Epel and I can help watch Ace.” Jack’s wolf ears perk attention as they twitch, picking up the wind and the rest of your conversation. Jack’s proposal sounded insane, and you had no qualms showing him your dumbfounded and doubtful face to your boyfriend. Even Ace whipped his head around to look at Jack. The Heartslaybul student’s cherry eyes rapidly blinked as he rewound what the Savannaclaw student said.

“Excuse me?! You want them to do what?! That sounds almost as stupid as when Deuce threw me at a damn chandelier! They’ll fall! I thought you were their boyfriend, man! What the hell!” Ace rudely announces. He felt the broom underneath the dropdown. Trappola hisses and regains his wary attention on the broom.

“See? Ace’s already getting more tired when we argue. Prefect, I can try to cast some wind magic to soften the descent, and Jack can grab you onto his broom. I can see if I can carry Ace on my broom too.” Epel urgently suggests as his voice cuts through the tension, as he looks to see more interruptions. Grim’s ears flatten on his head at the intense situation.

While he knew Epel’s wind magic was great, he was hesitant after Ace’s stunt. Even though he bickered with you sometimes, the monster didn’t want to see you get hurt for doing something stupid like this.

“You be careful, you hear minion! Same for you, Jack! I don’t want my 1st henchman to die over something like this.” Grim murmurs, but Jack hears the creature’s plea and wordlessly nods, and his arm outstretched to your hesitant form. Golden brown eyes full of trust and loyalty stare into your soul. Although fear clawing at every single part of your body screamed in protest against the dangerous risk, you trusted Jack Howl.

The young man so effortlessly captured your heart with his endearing honest personality and loyal demeanor. While his high morals of black and white frustrated you, you knew he wanted to do what was right by him and to those he thought were worthy enough to have a silver of his attention. How mutual appreciation soon morphed to tenderness, and with each day of learning new things from each other, that feeling of empathy then finally to something frighteningly new yet exciting and fun sparked. Ever since Jack and yourself have been dating after months of understanding each other, throughout your budding relationship, he never once thrust you into danger that he wasn’t sure he couldn’t help pull you out of it.

Jack trusted his ability even if there were times he was outnumbered, and the beastman reminds himself to stay calm for you to trust him. He recalls a moment like this with his siblings, and he was able to help them out with their problems. He takes a deep breath and slows his word, a calm, trusting, and gentle tone takes over as he helps soothe your mind as he says, “Take my hand. We’ll make it, I swear. I won’t let anything hurt you, not while I’m around.”

Peeling your sore hands and legs from underneath the solid but thin wood, violent shivers run all over your body as Jack releases his only hand on his broom, bracing to catch you in his strong embrace. Epel watches the hesitant prefect make their move to jump, his magical pen securely fastened in the small breast pocket in his P.E. Uniform, preparing for a small blast of wind magic. With bated breath, Grim watches his claws digging into the magic broom.

“You got it, almost there, Prefect. Just a little more.” Ace briefly peers over his shoulder and points his broom down, closing the gap between you and Jack. The wild turbulence makes Ace’s broom jerk to the right but right before the strong wind throws you for a loop. With screwed closed eyes, you leap from Ace’s broom to Jack’s arms. Within a blink of an eye, he places your body on the broom and turning around, you cling to Jack’s familiar body and bury your face in the crevice of his neck, your head painfully throbbed, and it feels like your heart is jumping into your throat as you wind your arms around his waist.

Dirty golden brown eyes meet Epel’s silent agreement as Jack stirs the magic tool back to the school field at a mindful steady pace as Epel uses some of his magic to help Ace get out of the wind current. Grim’s head peeks and sighs of relief to see the Prefect and Jack fly away, he was at a loss for words, but he was happy they didn’t get hurt.

“Are you alright? Can you speak?” Jack glances at the figure wordlessly, burying their face into his sweaty uniform. They didn’t say a word, not that he blamed them, but they were almost there, and he grew concerned they were in shock. White spiky hair blusters in the wind as Jack brings a hand to his lover’s back to brush against their back in sweet comfort, and to this, you whisper, “That was a lot for one day.”

Jack shakes his head, a heavy, tired sigh leaves his lips and looks to their destination, and makes a graceful and soft landing on the ground below, only to be met with an angry-looking Vargas and even more mad sweat glistening students. Epel, Ace, and Grim make their land a few moments later as Vargas greets them.

It took a 9-page apology essay, cleaning the gym and its equipment for five weeks. The nine-page report was a prompt punishment made by Professor Crewel to you and Ace, but this whole debacle did make Jack overwhelmingly protective and caring as he found out that you did suffer some shock and got after Ace’s tricks.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #sherbet writes #jack howl x reader #twst Jack howl #Jack Howl #mention: Ace #mention: Epel #mentions: grim #ace trappola #epel felmier #Grim #twst x reader #twst x mc #song prompt event #twst imagines #sherbet’s scenarios #reader insert

[chiwhorei]

pollock

paring: art major!k. tsukishima x fem!reader

genre: a dash of angst, hurt/comfort, smut, 18+ minors dni

wordcount: 3.2k

warnings: dom/sub dynamics, fingering, spitting, dacryphilia, praise, daddy kink, breeding kink, impregnating kink, soft and kinda hard dom!tsukki, sub!reader

a/n: ahhhhh!! this is my first longer fic to come out in a while and i am ~so~ excited to share this with everyone. i have been keening over the idea of art!major tsukki and i hope you all like him as much as i do! this is piece is brought to you by the hqhq monthly server collab, so please go check out everyone’s amazing writing, the masterlist can be found here!

hymn: validation by herrick & hooley, cherry hill by russ

“Your work is always technically very well executed, Tsukishima-san.” The round, bald-headed man shuffles through the photos on his desk, pieces of Tsukishima Kei’s senior project that he’s tried to fit together before his final exhibit only four months away.

“But,” the dreaded word has Tsukki restraining himself from a long eye roll, “It seems like you’re stuck. You still need one more piece for the show. What inspires you?”

You hear a resounding slam of the front door swinging open and meeting the frame again, followed by a shuffle of feet towards where you’re standing in the kitchen of your shared apartment. Tsukki’s mouth is set in a flat line, expression softening only slightly when he sees you leaning against the counter. You greet him with a warm, but cautious smile. It had been a horribly long day, grating on every thread of patience Tsukishima has. The bubbling of anxiety and frustration mixing into a sour look on his handsome face. You hate seeing your boyfriend so defeatus, much preferring the sardonic, confident air he usually holds. Both of your final years of college have been exceptionally taxing, Tsukki’s final art project being the most stressing of all. It seems like as days propel forward, closer to his due date, the less assured he is of his talents, his passions. It’s heartbreaking to see someone so brilliant struggle through a million half fleshed-out ideas and crumbled up leaves of paper.

You pull one of his hands to you, examining the stains of paint and ink across his long digits and kissing each finger softly. You wish you could get inside that big head of his and help in some way.

“Did you have a hard day at the studio, Kei?” You wrap your arms around his neck and search his eyes. He’s not always the best at talking to you, especially when he’s upset, so you don’t expect him to give you an answer. Instead, you rub his shoulders, trying to coax the tension out. He sighs deeply at the contact, hands moving to rest at the plush of your hips and gripping tightly when you work at a particularly sore spot.

“You’re too good to me, princess. Thank you” He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, and you nuzzle into him. You don’t have the answers to his current road block, you don’t pretend to. But maybe, you think, you can offer him a more carnal outlet.

“Of course, Daddy.” The name hangs in the air for a moment, any response hitching in his throat. The title is familiar after years of being together, always being both comforting and electrifying. Since the title slipped out years ago for the first time, your boyfriend feels his cool demeanor snapping like a glow stick, leaving hot lust in its wake upon it rolling past your lips.

He pulls you closed to him by your ass, inhaling sharply at the contact on his jeans. All you have on is one of Tsukki’s loose, paint stained sweaters and a thin pair of cotton panties. You brush one of your bare thighs against his crotch, and he feels the stresses of his day falling out of frame. Your body is always a buoy to pull him back from the drowning of self doubt. A perfect slice of heaven he became addicted to from the moment he spotted you across the dusty stacks.

“What inspires you?”

The question rings in his head again, but with a new perspective. Tsukki hears pieces clicking together with your lustrous body pressed against him.

“Babygirl, I think I have an idea. But I’m going to need your help.” His hands move to cup your cheeks, scanning over your features and finding a devious glint behind your soft, e/c eyes. Tsukki trails a thumb over your bottom lip lightly, admiring how you lean into the contact. Always so eager to please him, your temperament goes straight to his cock every time.

“Anything for you, daddy.” You press your forehead against his, waiting patiently for his next move. There’s astounding beauty in the glossy, temperate look in your eyes that he wants to, has to, to freeze in time.

“I have a few things to set up. Come to the office when I call you,” Tsukki pushes a stray hair from your face with a fond smile before walking away, he stops for a moment to look at you over his shoulder, “Naked.”

Your mind races as to what exactly he wants to do with you tonight as you busy yourself with peeling off your clothing. There is very little that you and your boyfriend haven’t tried at least once, but the tone in his voice has left you reeling at the possibilities.

Your eyes catch your reflection in the hallway mirror, naked body completely exposed to your own scrutinizing stare. Had it been the stress causing the image in front of you to be so unsavory? Every plane of skin promoting a different insecurity. A blasted thing a hallway mirror becomes when you’ve never truly loved what stares back. You fuss with your hair in a feeble attempt to make yourself more presentable. The question of how Tsukishima sees you always rattling around in the back of your head, especially standing completely naked and waiting in your own insecurities.

“Princess, come here.” You are pulled from your deprecating thoughts at the sound of Tsukki’s warm voice. You walk into his office, and notice he’s changed into just a pair of grey joggers. The sight of the low hanging garment making you salivate so much you almost miss your surroundings. He’s struck some kind of inspiration, you can see it in his eyes as he adjusts his easel and props up a large, blank canvas. You fiddle with your fingers as he looks up at you.

“Jackson Pollock.” You meet your boyfriend’s eyes, confused by his seemingly random statement as he parses out different colored paints into small bowls. Red, blue, green, yellow. “He poured paint on a flat surface so that he could view every angle color could create, every curve.” Tsukki muses, dipping two fingers into the bright yellow hue sitting next to him, bringing them towards his face with contemplation. “But I think this sweet little body of yours will prove a much better canvas.”

His eyes provide no sign of bluffing, but you stare back at him dumbly. Sure, he’s used you as a muse before. Studying your hands or the way your hair falls in the sketches you see hanging up by his desk behind you. You love when he wants to use your body for inspiration, but is he really going to cover you in paint?

“We both know you don’t mind getting a little messy,” He trails his wet pointer finger across your collarbone, following a line towards your chin. He tilts your head up to meet his eyes, “Open your mouth.”

Your bottom lip parts from the top, eyes following the line of spit that drops from his mouth to your tongue with a resounding put.

You swallow thickly, the feeling of his control already bending your will to meet him at every pass.

“I want you to look nice and fucked out for me, baby. I want to show my stuffy professors where my inspiration comes from. I’m going to capture how sweet and submissive my little princess is and then everyone will get to see what I get to enjoy every night.” His unmarred hand moves towards your already disastrously wet pussy. You’re drooling at even the most slight contact, bucking into his hand in a plea for more. His words, complimentative but unmistakingly domineering, have your head becoming fuzzy.

“Daddy, please. Please touch me.” Your whines are music to his ears.

“Oh princess, I plan on it. But I need you to be good for me. You don’t want to mess up all my hard work do you?” His voice is steady, authoritative but still soft around the edges in a way that makes you feel gooey.

Tsukki leads you to the stool sitting in the middle of the room, and you perch on it with his hands keeping you steady. You are his muse and medium, his subject and his canvas to use in any way desired.

Smudges of color brandish every inch of your skin, each stroke is a reminder of where your lovers hands have been. Blue and pink splatter against your stomach, a vibrant red outline on each curve of your breast and purple fingerprints against your pert nipples. Your legs wear a trail of hand prints towards your glistening cunt, wanton cunt. Each marring of paint sits beside paths of hot, opened mouth kisses.

All that is keeping you balanced on the squeaky wooden stool is Tsukishima’s strong arms holding you captive in place. Your legs had been thrown over his shoulders after painting across your upper thighs in a sea of greys and greens. As soon as Tsukki’s eyes met with your bare cunt, his mouth was quick to follow.

He’s a mess of paint now too, muscular chest and arms covered in pigment and face covered in you. He’s always insatiable, drinking you in like it’s the only source of sustenance left in the world. He knows how to work you, how to propel you towards orgasm in a way no one else has ever been able to do. Worshiping your body with langued strokes of his tongue. You let out a pitchy moan in response to his mouth, pushing you towards an end you can feel in the back of your throat.

“I bet you want to cum don’t you, baby? I can feel it. Such an eager little thing.” Tsukishima ghosts his lips across your hot cunt, blowing at your clit to make you yelp. You’re so close, too close. Dangling above bliss but not tipping over, knowing you need permission. You’ve been so good for him, he has to give you your release.

“Please, daddy. Please let me cum.” Tears wet your cheeks as you beg, holding onto Tsukki’s blond locks like an anchor. All you need is his approval, but instead of persimmon you are met with a bawdy laugh.

You really should have known he wasn’t going to let you go that easy.

Tsukki stands up, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand. You’re wrecked in every way. Hair loose and disheveled, body dipped in a thin layer of sweat and thick splotches of paint. The look on your face is equal parts pathetic and fervent.

“I need you to sit pretty for daddy, I want to capture how desperately beautiful you look right now.” His words make you preen, but it’s a compliment and a warning at the same time. He wants to capture the look of sweet pain of denied orgasm to display at an art exhibit of both peers and his seniors. Sadistic in Tsukishima’s own unique way.

You should have known better, Tsukki’s patience has always been astounding. You know all he wants to do is bury himself in you, but he wants even more to make you suffer under his stare. There’s plenty of times he unleashes his frustration out on you physically, ripening your ass cheeks in bright red handprints and ensuring you can’t walk in the morning. But it’s these moments that can be even harsher, when he regards you with steely eyes and a aloof threat, that make your nerves catch fire more than a spanking ever could.

He sits down to start sketching on the large canvas in front of him, pinning you to your position with a practiced glare and playing on your desire to please him.

You sit as still as you can, listening to the scratch of pencil on vinyl in an attempt to keep calm. Your cunt is still twitching, puffy and slick propped uncomfortably atop the wooden stool. Tsukki hums along to the rhythmic music coming from his phone speaker, a playlist you know to be the one that helps him concentrate on his work. His brow furrows in concentration, pushing his glasses back in place as he stares at you again. His eyes are calculating and coldly observant, but his mouth quirks up in a surprising smile.

“My perfect baby. So stunning in every way.” His thoughts start tumbling out without his usual sarcastic filter.

“I have never wanted something more in my life than you. All of you, all the time.” A genuine regard for you in the lilt of his voice clamps down on your chest. He’s called you pretty, told you he loved you a million times before, but there’s a calm resonance in his words as his hands move across the white caves in front of him that catches in your throat. With the pressure of graduation looming over the two of you these past few months, romantics have been pushed to the side to make room for laser focus on finishing your degrees.

Your eyes well at his confessional, struck by the vulnerability so unfamiliar to him. You missed this side of your boyfriend, unlocking it incrementally through the years and finding it virtually non-existent recently. He sees your shoulders trembling slightly and tears his eyes up to your form.

“I told you to stay still.” His voice comes out harsh, but melts away when he sees fat tears rolling down your puffy cheeks.

“Y/n, are you okay? Did I upset you?” He moves to console you, the action causing another round of sobs, your body on edge in every way after both the teasing and his impromptu affirmation. Your response surprises yourself just as much as Tsukki, not realising how starved of his affection you had become.

“I’m sorry daddy, I-I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I just- do you mean all that?” You lower your head in embarrassment, and Tsukishima’s heart breaks at the realization. Had he unintentionally disregarded you? Had he been ignoring you?

“Fuck baby, of course I mean it. I’m so sorry I made you doubt that.” He pulls you up into his strong hold, he lets you cry into his shoulder until your wracking sobs simmer to sniffles. He holds you tightly in an attempt at atonement. He has to do something to show you how he feels now that he knows his words have failed him. His actions have to speak in his place.

Tsukishima pulls you away slightly to meet his gaze before colliding his lips against yours. He traces his tongue in sonnets across your mouth, tasting the lingering essence of your arousal and the salt of your tears. He writes prose in the breathy gasps as you part for air, chests heaving. He has to show you what his words won’t always allow him to.

It’s bodies tangled together, covered in the colors of a man trying his best to show you how much he loves you. You had fallen to the floor at the behest of passion, Tsukki’s body covering yours, lips kissing any extension of your skin, uncaring of the paint covering both of your writhing frames.

You paw at his sweatpants as if they are the most offensive thing you’ve ever scene, Tsukki’s cock springs out to slap against the hard muscle of his abdomen. You don’t waste any time lining him up to your dripping folds, you’ve waited long enough. Hips crashing together like a fever dream, you’re wrapped in each other as if there’s nothing else in this world outside of a set of paints and four walls of a dimly lit apartment. The sun could be hurling towards the sidewalk just outside and Tsukishima, usually observant to a fault, would have no idea. All he knows is your body beneath him, clawing desperately at his back with every deep thrust, and the love poem he has written on your body. Reds across your breasts and brandishing your thighs. Greens and yellows across your neck, up your arms. Messy, sticky, covering the thin sheet Tsukki laid out to spare the hardwood.

Your panting, crying out for your daddy and consumed in the salty taste of love and lust crashing together like waves. His cock is heavy inside you, filling you up so completely. Tsukki rowes on, not daring to stop now, not with the resounding drumming of two hearts beat so perfectly together and the feeling of your clenching, velveteen walls hugging him like he’s coming home.

“I am so desperately in love with you. I want you like this, with me, forever.” He’s delirious, drunk on your body. Primal, as he stares down at you, colorful and completely conquered. He sees everything in your eyes, every baser desire, every hope for the future.

“I want to fill you up with my cum, princess. You are mine in every way. God, I want to see you swollen with my baby. Right here.” He presses against your belly, feeling his cock moving inside you from the splotches of pick and blue.

His confessional spurs you on, the emotions overwhelming. Feeling so loved, so needy, wanting everything the blonde above you is willing to give.

“Ah, Daddy! Please, please fill me up. I wa-want you to put a baby in me, I need it.” Your clenching tightly, each pump of Tsukishima’s cock better than the last.

“You are such a good girl baby, always saying exactly what I need to hear. Cum for me, princess, let me see how good I make you feel.”

His warrant is all you’ve needed this whole time, snapping to hours of tension with a sharp cry. You’re thrown into the pooling, honey-sweet feeling of release. Sinking every inch of your aching body into a blissed haze. Your walls spasm violently, tightening around him like a vice. He meets your hips with his own, knocking hip bones together like pool balls and holding himself in your heat as you milk his throbbing cock, stealing every drop of hot, while cum he has to offer.

He crumbles to the floor beside you, pulling you to his chest. Lying in a mess of paint and sweat and staggered breathing. Through the fog still resounding in your head, you hear Tsukki laughing lightly, “How’s that for inspiration?”

-Four Months Later-

You shift on your toes in anticipation, waiting for Tsukishima to release the hold he has around your eyes. You hear the bustle of people around you, the laughter and tinkling of glasses clinking together filling your ears. He kisses your temple before letting go, and you are met with a new reflection of yourself hung proudly on display. All of the places you see blemishes are drawn with vibrant purposeful color. Every curve of your form mapped out with the care only a lover could administer. Your naked form exhibited for hundreds of critiquing eyes, but there’s not a bone in your body that could feel embarrassed in this moment. As reflection so beautiful it’s unbelievable is staring back at you.

“Is this really how you see me, Kei?” You turn around to meet his eyes, his stare holds the love of epics. He would write you novels if he could, but this picture is worth a thousand words.

“Of course it is, baby,” He brings a hand to thumb at your slightly swelling belly.

“Of course it is.”

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

#tsukishima smut #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei smut #tsukishima kei #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #hqhq server collab #haikyuu hq #hq tsukishima

[milstrim]

Comfort in My Shadow

Chapter 4: Uninvited

By @iwritedumbshit for @iron-mum

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds, James “Rhodey” Rhodes

Summary: Soulmates are definite in the universe. Nobody knows exactly why they exist, or what dictates who is bonded to who, the only thing known is that they are never wrong. But Peter’s not so sure about that.

Living at the group home had taught Peter a lot about laying low and how to stay alive when nobody cares. But he’d always clung to the hope of the shadow at his feet reflecting his soulmate that had watched over him for years.

Typical that his soulmate is actually a superhero that Peter is convinced shouldn’t want anything to do with him. Maybe, just this once, the Universe was wrong.

But Tony Stark is desperate to prove that it is right.

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

---

Peter didn't really wake up the next morning, because he hadn't really fallen asleep last night. He'd been incredibly tired, but his hair hadn't been able to lay flat and he hadn't been able to block out the overwhelmingly disgusting smell of Mr. Fowler's closet. He'd been it the entirety of the day and even throughout the night when Mr. Fowler stomped into the room and passed out on the bed. The lilting stumbles in his steps made Peter think he'd been drunk and had likely forgotten about the kid trapped in his closet.

So he hadn't really slept, but his eyes had been closed--the darkness of his eyes was better than that of the closet--until the door had finally swung open, allowing Peter his first full breath in almost a whole day. The dankness of Mr. Fowler's room was a thousand times better than the closet. An arm had grabbed his own, pulling him roughly to his feet and out of the closet. His legs had ached with the disuse, but he'd stumbled to his feet nonetheless.

"Are you going to talk back to me again, son?" Mr. Fowler had asked, a horrible pleasantness to his voice. Peter had shaken his head. Something had been shoved into his hands, and he'd fumbled only to realize it was his wallet. "There. The card doesn't work anymore, so you can have that piece of shit back. Now get out of here."

"O-okay. Thank you," he'd said, stumbling out of the room and into the bathroom that he'd been deprived of for almost twenty-four hours. Once he'd finished and washed his hands, he'd searched through his wallet.

His few crumpled bills had been taken, but the pictures stuffed inside had been left alone, and the black card had sat crammed in a pocket. He'd grabbed it with fumbling fingers, brows furrowing. It didn't work anymore? Had the man maxed it out? Peter had swallowed, a pit forming in his stomach as he thought about what the hell he'd bought to do that. Probably a lot of alcohol had been his guess.

He really, really hoped that Mr. Stark couldn't see his purchases.

After a quick shower, in which he'd had to sit down his vision had swam so much, he'd rushed out the door with his beaten up backpack swinging off of his shoulder. He knew he probably should have stayed to check on the other kids who'd had to listen to the fight last night and might need help with homework, but the teenager couldn't stand to be in that house for any longer. Everything smelled like Mr. Fowler's awful closet and he just needed to be out in the bright Sunday sun. He wanted to find just a little comfort in his shadow that he'd been deprived of the night before.

So he'd changed into his suit and swung around for most of the day, flipping for some overly excited middle schoolers and directing an old man from Ukraine visiting his son who lived in Harlem and ignoring the pain in his stomach. When there was a lull in the late afternoon, he strung a web between two buildings and just did as many daring flips and handstands as he could. It was a feeble attempt to distract himself from the events of the past few days.

Hits and threats from Mr. Fowler were nothing new, in fact, they were a staple in the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, but last night had been different. He'd never been trapped like that in the group home. He'd always had a lot of free reign as long as he operated within the curfew and got his chores done, but yesterday was like someone had flipped a switch on that, and he was still reeling from the terror.

Or that could be the hunger eating through his stomach. Peter stopped flipping on the web for a moment, instead laying down and balancing himself on the thin string as his stomach growled so hard he flinched. He wouldn't even be getting anything today. When did his grounding end again? He was pretty sure it was Thursday, but he wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Fowler extended it after last night. Maybe he could stop by Ned's and get a granola bar or something.

The teenager looked down at the ground to stare at Mr. Stark's shadow, blinking as he realized it was no longer clothed in normal attire, or a sharp business suit, but rather the larger outline of what he could now identify as the Iron Man armor. He narrowed his eyes, wondering what the man must be doing. Probably something really important.

Peter sighed, moving to sit up, when a sound made him pause. He cocked his head before finally turning in the direction of the mechanical whine to make out the Iron Man suit flying towards him.

Huh.

He tried to feign disinterest, laying back down on the web and placing his hands underneath his head as the suit landed on the nearest building rooftop and Mr. Stark stepped out, but Peter couldn't lie to himself about how excited he really was to see the man.

"Hey, Mr. Stark," he greeted from the web.

"Hey, kid."

"Um, thanks for the letter." Please don't ask about the card. Please don't ask about the card. "Are you sure about the phone, though? I mean, that thing looks like it could cost as much as a house."

"Keep it, kid, I gave it to you for a reason," Mr. Stark said, waving him off. Peter watched him warily as he sat down on the edge of the building, shuffling nervously. Peter smiled to see the man very clearly out of his element, as if he would let him fall anyway. "So, how's your day been?"

Peter shrugged. "Fine."

"No hangovers or anything?" Peter froze. "Can you even get drunk? Cap can't."

The teenager hesitated before answering. It was either 'I bought a bunch of adult stuff with your credit card' or 'My foster father bought a bunch of adult stuff with your credit card.' He wasn't sure which one was better, but there didn't seem to be much to win from lying, not that there was much to gain from telling the truth either.

"I don't know," Peter responded honestly as he sat up on the web to stare at the shadow on the ground. The imitation felt more comforting than the real thing at that moment.

"You don't know? You bought three hundred dollars of pure liquor."

"Three hundred--Oh, jeez. I'm really sorry, Mr. Stark."

Mr. Stark blinked at him for a second before his gaze softened.

"You didn't buy any of that stuff, did you?" Peter shook his head. "Who? Andrew Fowler?" A moment. A nod. "Okay, I'll just deactivate that card and give you a new one."

"No, it's fine, Mr. Stark," Peter said, pulling his wallet out of his hoodie pocket and showing him the black card. "He gave it back. I think he was annoyed that it was, like, maxed out or something."

"Well, it is most definitely not maxed out--there's a lot more than three hundred on that, kid--but I'm glad you got it back."

"Thanks."

There was a minute of awkward silence before Mr. Stark rolled his shoulders and sat up straighter.

"So, no tower yesterday?"

Peter suddenly remembered the little note at the end of his letter. He shrugged bashfully, mumbling, "Yeah, sorry, uh Mr--Mr. Fowler kept us pretty busy yesterday. Chore day, so."

"Wanna stop by now?"

Peter looked up at him in surprise. It was a wonder this man didn't hate him yet. The foster parents Peter had before Mr. Fowler had gotten sick of him pretty quickly, or just hadn't been very attached in the first place, while the majority of his teachers regarded him with either pity or disdain at his situation and record. As far as Mr. Stark knew, he had an accident-prone, snotty teenager as a soulmate whose favorite pass time was to be a juvenile delinquent.

And yet, the mechanic regarded him with a soft smile. A little strained, but welcoming nonetheless. It unfurled something in his chest.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Yeah!--I mean, sure sure, that'd be fun." Mr. Stark gave him an amused smile as the teenager stepped off of his web and onto the roof of the building. With a quick glance and a rare smile, Peter leaped off the roof, enjoying the way Mr. Stark yelped in surprise. Peter called, "Beat you there!!"

He did not, in fact, beat Mr. Stark to the tower. To be fair, the man was in a suit that flew faster than a jet and Peter was only propelled by physics and muscles.

The teenager watched from a short distance as the Iron Man suit paused in front of a higher point in the tower, faced him for a moment, and then dove through the window. He raised an eyebrow, but doubled down in catching up to the man, only barely managing to swing himself high enough so that he wouldn't have to crawl his way up more than a couple of stories.

Finally, just a few minutes later than Mr. Stark, he rolled through the window and landed hard on the floor just a little unsteadily, not that he cared in the slightest. There were much more interesting things to care about in that moment.

"Whoa..."

"You like it?" Mr. Stark called from across the lab. Peter nodded dumbly, staring, widemouthed, at the state of the art equipment decorating just about every inch of the room. There were cases of Iron Man armor lining the walls, robots rolling around--he managed a laugh at one with a dunce cap sweeping the ground with a broom inefficiently--and tables filled with projects Peter couldn't even begin to dream of. "You can take your mask off here, kid. No one's going to see you."

Mr. Stark's voice pulled him back to reality, drawing him further into the room hesitantly. He glanced at the man, but realized dimly that his spider sense had finally calmed down. This wasn't the danger he'd felt after being fished out of the lake, or the feeling that had been following him since, it was a normal calm mixed with just a hint of nerves.

He tugged his mask off.

Mr. Stark stared at him, a soft look on his face, before finally tearing his gaze away when Peter shuffled uncomfortably.

"Sorry, kid," he apologized. "Didn't mean to freak you out. Just..."

"Just what?"

"It's just nice to see you, Peter."

He didn't know what to say to that, so he just offered the billionaire a strained smile and stepped over to the desk the man was standing at. He felt more than a little out of place, but his curiosity overwhelmed his discomfort as he glanced over a shiny metal case held lightly in the billionaire's hands in interest. Mr. Stark tapped it when he caught the boy looking.

"This, kid," he said, sliding it over, "is for you."

Peter caught it effortlessly, his fingers light and hesitant as he glanced from it to Mr. Stark, his head down.

"I can't accept this, Mr. Stark. You already--"

Mr. Stark interrupted by reaching over and pressing something on the case. It sprang open, spooking Peter enough for him to take a step back but holding his attention as he caught sight of the bright red fabric. The eyes were what really caught his attention, looking unreasonably cool and intimidating. Peter mumbled, "This is the coolest thing I've ever seen."

Mr. Stark chuckled. "Good thing it's yours."

"It's--" He gaped at the man. "Mr. Stark, I really can't accept--"

"Too bad," he interrupted. "It's a gift and it's rude to turn down a gift. So, there's a bathroom right over there if you want to try it on. Give it a whirl?"

After a moment of hesitation, he closed the case, thanked Mr. Stark, and headed to the bathroom to change.

  ---

When Peter stepped out of the bathroom in the new suit, Tony couldn't help but frown. He covered it up as quickly as possible, but the sentiment still remained as his eyes roamed over the kid. He was muscular, sure, but he was so thin that it practically hurt. The teenager's ribs were practically there just for him to count and worry about. He filed it away for later as Peter turned to look at him, the mask's eyes narrowing.

"Looking good, hotshot," Tony said. "How's it feel?"

"It's awesome, Mr. Stark," Peter responded, his hands held out in front of him as he tapped the webshooters. "It smells like a new car!"

Tony couldn't help his laugh. "If you think that's cool, just wait. Friday, Babysitter Protocol."

"Babysitter--" Peter cut off with a confused yelp as his suit lit up blue, the AI in his suit supposedly greeting him. The kid cocked his head. "Oh, hi. Nice to meet you too."

Tony turned away, letting the kid and the AI get acquainted as he pulled out his phone and ordered a few pizzas. Five might be enough. Steve had always eaten a lot, and even if he didn't manage to burn through the best pizza in the city, the kid could definitely use leftovers. He entered the order and shifted back to observe the kid again.

"--uh, Liz? No, no, that's weird. How about Karen?" A moment as he waited for a response. "Fun. Nice. Cool, this is so cool."

Tony smiled, unable to tear his eyes away from the kid. His soulmate. His little shadow. 

Peter turned to look at him after a few minutes, muttering a quick goodbye to the AI--Karen, he guessed--before tugging the mask off again. There was a hesitant smile tugging at his thin face. Much too thin. How many pizzas would it take to get the kid back to even a semi-healthy weight? Probably way too many.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Stark," Peter said. "I really can't thank you enough."

"Please, you can thank me by not thanking me. Pepper says my ego's already a little off of the charts." Peter laughed and Tony couldn't help his grin. "Wanna stay over for dinner? I ordered pizza."

Peter hesitated, but after a moment he answered, "Alright," which was so much better than the kid regarding him defensively or looking like he was constantly on the edge of running away again. And, as it turned out, Peter fit more easily into his life than he could have thought.

In barely thirty minutes, the kid was sat beside him at a desk filled with vials of web fluid and pieces of Iron Man armor, an old, frayed hoodie of Tony's slipped over the suit, and a stack of freshly baked pizza laid out in front of them. Peter sat in the chair next to him as the mechanic ran through the schematics of his suit, hanging on every single word.

"...most of the framing is between the protective layers of your suit, completely waterproof by the way, if you ever get yourself into another lake. You also have a parachute if you pass the three thousand feet threshold."

Peter glanced over his shoulder in surprise. "There's a parachute in this thing? How?"

Tony tapped his back where he knew the spider logo was. "A magician never reveals their secrets."

"Did you compress all the air out of it? Or build it into the wiring on the patch on my back somehow?"

"Both are true." He took a bite of pizza. "You're pretty smart, huh?"

Peter ducked his head with a shrug. "Sorta. I can figure out chemistry, but that's about it."

"I don't believe that for a second, but we'll stick with the modesty for now." Peter huffed out a laugh, spinning the hologram of his suit and staring at it in complete adoration. It dragged a smile onto Tony's face.

Peter had a sort of ruggedness to him, a desperate scrappiness, but it was embarrassingly easy to see that that wasn't all there was to the teenager. His rambles were fast and excited, his scarce smiles adorably bright and always lighting up his doe eyes. There was a kind of spark to Peter that Tony couldn't explain, and, though he was sorry that the kid was saddled with him, he couldn't have wished for a better soulmate.

Apparently, five pizzas ended up being a great number, because Peter ate everything Tony offered him. He was practically a human garbage disposal, though much more polite. Tony was glad that the kid was filling up, but it made him seriously question how much he was getting at that group home. After letting the kid get comfortable for about an hour, he voiced it.

"Do they feed you where you live, kid? I swear, you just put down over ten thousand calories."

Peter paused on the slice he was eating, swallowing before putting it back on the plate nervously, and Tony immediately regretted ever opening his big, fat mouth.

"Yeah. They--Mr. Fowler feeds us fine. Just, enhanced metabolism, so." He shrugged. It was said so nervously that it felt like an outright lie, but Tony left it alone.

"Okay. Good to know. Just make sure to use that card whenever you get hungry, kid. I'm not having my soulmate starve."

At his mention of being soulmates, Peter glanced over his shoulder to stare at their shadows. Right now they almost looked like their own shadows, mirror images of each other, but if you looked hard enough you could see the slight difference in hair texture and the distinctive widths of their shoulders.

"It must've been weird," Peter said. Tony glanced at him in confusion. "Not having a shadow. You didn't get one until I was born, right?"

"Oh. Yeah," Tony agreed. He swallowed as he admitted, "Thought I was broken for the longest time. It was the best day of my life when your tiny little baby shadow appeared at my feet... What about you? Always had a grown man following you around, huh?"

"That sounded creepy, Mr. Stark." Tony just grinned cheekily. "It was nice, actually, always having you there. Like--like a guardian or something."

"And now you've got the real thing." Peter rolled his eyes and Tony pointed at him. "Ah, there's that good ol' sass I was looking for. I was afraid I'd lost it."

"Uhuh. You're kinda weird, Mr. Stark."

"Right back at you, little shadow." Peter smiled at the nickname before glancing out the window where the sky was a deep russet red. "Time for you to head out?"

"Yeah. I've still got some homework to do."

The two stood up and walked over to the window. Peter moved to take the hoodie he'd been wearing off, but Tony stopped him. "Keep it. I've got plenty."

"Oh, thanks, Mr. Stark."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm so generous. Have fun with the suit, kid, I'll see you soon."

"When?"

Tony paused, looking over at the kid who had only just begun to pull the mask over his head, hopeful eyes staring at him. He desperately wanted to tell the kid he'd pick him up from school tomorrow so that they could hang out in the lab again, but he knew he genuinely didn't have any time. He'd been putting off packing for a few too many days.

"After we move. I'll pick you up from school on Friday. We can go explore the compound together. Sound good?"

Peter nodded. "Yep. Real good, Mr. Stark."

"You can call me Tony, Mr. Parker," he joked.

Peter pulled the mask down and jumped out the window with a call of. "See you Friday, Mr. Stark!"

Tony's shoulders shook with laughter.

  ---

Friday. Peter couldn't wait for Friday. With a burst of excitement and energy he hadn't had in a while, Peter flipped in the air and let out a WHOOO! only catching himself at the last second before flipping back up.

"Wow, this suit is so intuitive!" he exclaimed, shooting another web.

"I am glad you think so, Peter," Karen responded, shocking him so bad he nearly let go of his web. Oh, yeah, he'd forgotten he had an AI now. Man, Mr. Stark was so cool. "I am currently taking feedback for the suit's systems in case anything needs to be changed on Friday. Would you like to rate the suit's webshooters?"

"Oh, full eleven out of ten, Karen. It's great."

"Thank you for the feedback, Peter, I have sent a note to Mr. Stark."

"Oh." Peter blushed. "You didn't have to tell him that, Karen."

"Why not? He has asked for feedback."

"No, it's not--" He cut himself off, sighing as he flipped himself into a large arc. "I just don't want to bother him. He's already been so nice to me."

"Mr. Stark has asked for feedback, Peter."

"It's not the--it's not the feedback, Karen," he tried to explain.

"I do not understand."

He spluttered and then sighed, waving it off. "Whatever. It's fine, Karen, just forget it."

"Of course, Peter. Would you like me to show you the quickest route home?"

Peter hesitated. He did have a lot of homework to do, and Eric probably needed help with his reading, but he had to swallow down fear at the thought of being in the same room as Mr. Fowler again. It was irrational--it was so stupid--and Peter knew it, but he couldn't stop the way his hands seemed to shake and his entire body quail.

"Actually, let's take the scenic route. Really test out the suit, y'know?"

"Of course, Peter. Planning now."

A blue line appeared on screen, leading Peter back to the group home. He muttered, "So cool."

Spider-Man was only halfway back to the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, finally across the bridge and back into his home territory, when his spider sense went off again. He immediately glanced down at his shadow, which had lengthened as the sun set, for some kind of comfort or guidance. But of course, there wasn't one. It was just a shadow.

A little put off by the shiver that had run down his spine, he attached himself to the side of the building, staring out over the street. Nothing too out of the normal. People hurrying on the sidewalk, cars honking down the street, and shadows following along aimlessly.

"Karen. What's going on?"

"What do you mean, Peter?" the AI asked.

"It's just--there's something wrong. Maybe--" At a second shiver up his spine, Peter turned to look at where his senses were directing him at the ringing of a bell.

It was a small bodega, its door swung open as two men stepped inside in unreasonably thick coats for the warm weather. He narrowed his eyes, and the suit zoomed in with him, scanning the men before they disappeared through the door.

"What's the time, Karen?"

"7:30."

"Alright, we're good then. Plenty of time." He swung over to the bodega, attaching himself to the wall above the door, out of sight of the occupants inside. His senses had yet to calm down, so he assumed that he was right about this being a robbery. "Ready to test out the suit, Karry Berry?"

"I am always ready, Peter."

"Y'know, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

"Does that mean I should assign you a nickname too?"

"Definitely! Think about it for a moment and get back to me after we do this," Peter exclaimed in an excited mumble, straining his ears to hear whatever was going on inside. There was the tense calm of nothing for a moment, and then a shuffle and a squeak followed by a spike in his senses. He muttered to himself. "Finally."

He kept his ears strained on the actions going on inside, dropping down in front of the door quietly to watch what was happening. There was a teenager at the register, her hands fumbling with the register while the two men from earlier in their dark coats pointed shotguns at her. He could see tears streaming down the girl's face, clearly terrified.

Peter crept forward, picking up on the muttered conversation inside.

"--just open the register, keep it quiet," the closest man said in a raspy voice. "Hand everything over nice and quick."

"It's--it doesn't open," the girl cried. "It doesn't open unless a purchase is made and--"

The man flinched forward. "Do I look like I care? Just open it!"

Finally having heard enough, Peter placed his fingers against the door and pulled it open as quietly as possible.

Ding!

Peter froze. Heads turned. Curses flew.

The superhero darted forward as the gun pointed at him, firing a shot that missed him completely as he dove behind a grocery aisle of gummies and pregnancy tests. Bodegas really were something. Peter crouched down, muttering under his breath, "Fuck that stupid bell."

"Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark to your predicament?" Karen asked.

"What? No! I can deal with this, Karen, just watch."

"I like the new look," came the voice of the man that had shot at him. "New government sugar daddy or something?"

Peter blanched. "I really wish that that would stop being people's first assumption. People can be platonic y'know!"

There was a scoff and the sound of something warping. Peter's eyes narrowed, peeking around the grocery shelf and then immediately ducking back. The man, the one who hadn't shot at him, had pulled out a large and glowing weapon that looked incredibly similar to the one that had been at the ATM robbery. Man, he was getting really sick of those things.

The teenage girl had looked okay, shivering behind the desk and thankfully not making any moves to alert the police, as far as he could tell anyway. The last thing he needed was cops showing up in such a tense situation. And his first time using the new suit! That would be just plain embarrassing.

"Platonic or not, I don't give a shit," Normal Gun Man said. "A new look isn't going to change your situation. So either come out, or we shoot you."

"I don't know if you can shoot me while I'm back here soooo."

There was a click and a squeak. "Yeah? What about her?"

Okay. So that was a little different.

Without hesitation, Peter stepped out from behind the aisle shelf, his arms raised half-heartedly in the air. The two men had ski masks over their face--not quite as fun as the Avengers masks, but it'd do--but he could still see the honestly nervous smile of the man holding the gun. Clearly he hadn't expected the arrival of Queens favorite vigilante.

"Good to know that you can comply," Normal Gun Guy said. Alien Gun Guy had the weird blue gun pointed at Peter, but the shotgun was still directed at the worker. He chose his target.

"Not really."

With a flick, he webbed the shotgun and slammed it into the wall. There was a startled scream at the same moment his hairs stood on end. Peter only managed to jump forward before he was encased in a blue light that gave him quite possibly the worst headache of his entire life. He hated the feeling of that stupid thing. He didn't quite know what it was, but it felt like something out of The Incredibles. Like Syndrome and shit.

"Ugh! This thing is so weird!" Peter complained in a warped yell. Alien Gun Guy gave him a brutish look and then swung him through the window.

Peter grunted as he crashed through the window, wincing at the clinking shatter of glass that broke under him, but, surprisingly, none of the glass managed to grab at him and slice through his skin, even as he was shot across the street from the force of the alien weapon, only stopping when he thudded against the wall. He groaned as the air was forced out of him.

At least the suit had kept him from getting cut.

"Ugh... The hell." The teenager shook his head, forcing himself back to his feet, clinging to the wall for just a moment as he blinked out dizziness. Remembering himself, he turned back to the bodega across the street, panicking when his head pounded. That wasn't from being hit, that was his spider sense.

The men ran out of the door, hulking along a cash register and a handful of cigarette packs, but the teenage girl had yet to leave and his head only pounded harder. Spider-Man dashed across the road, leaping through the already broken window, his breath catching as he caught sight of the purple thing sitting on the ground in the middle of the bodega. It whined, louder and louder.

Bomb. Bomb!

Peter's head shot around so fast he physically winced, but he caught sight of the teenager behind the counter. Working on instinct, he jumped over the counter as the whine reached its apex, wrapping his arms around the girl and pushing himself between her and the bomb. He squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as possible, gritting his teeth.

The world shook and she let out a surprised cry into his shoulder but didn't let go. Peter barely managed to hold down a whimper of fear. Be brave, be a hero. Be brave, be a hero. He could do it. He was fine.

He was fine.

Peter blinked his eyes open, moving carefully to peer over the counter.

"Dammit," he muttered. The rest of the windows had shattered, and just about every product in the store had been knocked back and now littered the ground. A tile fell from the ceiling, making him tense his shoulders. They'd gotten away. Some hero he was.

"I have a nickname for you, Peter," Karen said in his ear. He frowned in annoyance. Well, he had told her to tell him once the situation was over.

"Great," he snapped, stepping over the counter, his boot crunching on the glass. "What is it?"

"Peter-butter!"

"...Okay that's actually pretty good."

  ---

After double checking that the cashier was alright, Peter had fled the scene, cursing himself for how bad it had gone. Nobody had died, but that wasn't really the standard he was looking for. If anything, he'd really just made everything worse. Stupid, Parker, stupid!

The teenager sighed, dipping into the dark alleyway where his backpack had been left earlier. He grabbed it from under the crate of boxes where he'd hidden it, pressing the spider emblem on his chest, allowing the suit to cascade off of him. Frustrated, Peter ripped the mask off and untangled himself from the fabric at his feet, stuffing the items in his faded blue bag and jumping back into his own clothes, and, after a moment of hesitation, slipped into the hoodie that Mr. Stark had given him.

He pulled the bag over his shoulder and buried his hands into his pockets as he stepped out of the alleyway and back onto the streets in the direction of the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys. His brows were furrowed and his face squished into a deep frown. He couldn't believe he'd been given a superhero suit by literally Iron Man and he'd screwed it up immediately. He chittered nervously at the thought of Mr. Stark seeing what had happened at the bodega and realizing just how shit of a superhero his soulmate was.

As he was debating the likely-hood of Mr. Stark taking the suit back and never talking to him again for his screw up, his phone buzzed. Hesitantly, Peter pulled it out to find two texts waiting for him. One from Ned and one from Mr. Stark.

He clicked on the one from Ned first. The text app opened up to show Peter a grainy picture of him in his new suit followed by Ned's message of 'Excuse me??? tf is this?? tell me everything rn or im going to die'

Peter smiled faintly, making a mental note to call his friend in a few minutes. With a deep breath, he clicked on Mr. Stark's message.

Mr. Stark: I saw the news. You okay?

Peter blinked. He wasn't mad? He chewed on his lip as he sent a response, 'All good. Sorry I freaked you out.' 

Mr. Stark texted back almost immediately, 'No problem. Just glad you're good. Text ya later, kiddo.'

And that was that, Peter supposed. No...no nothing, really. He'd expected a lot more resistance or opposition from the billionaire, but he wasn't mad that he hadn't gotten any. He was about to call Ned when his phone buzzed again.

Mr. Stark: 'P.S. You can talk to and text Karen through your phone. Knock yourself out, Peter-butter.'

Well, that was embarrassing. But still kinda cool.

With a shake of his head, he finally dialed Ned's number. His friend only picked up after two rings with a breathless greeting.

"Yo, what the hell is up with that suit? Did Mr. Stark make it for you? Are you super hero buddies now!!? Officially his sidekick!!?"

Peter smiled, shaking his head in amusement as he stopped at a streetlight. "Yeah, Mr. Stark made it for me. It's cool right? It even has an AI!"

"It has an AI!!? Please, please, tell me you'll let me look at it."

"Duh. Yeah, you can look at it. We can go to your house after school." Peter thought for a moment, thinking of the alien weapons. He'd messed up today, probably disappointed Mr. Stark, but if he could take the whole operation down... "Besides, I need your help with something."

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

#friendly neighborhood exchange #peter parker #tony stark #Iron Man #spiderman #irondad #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #ironman fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #soulmate au #platonic soulmates #not st*rker

[moons-and-stars-and-shit]

Hi! I saw your blog cause you reblogged one of my crack ideas on my hq account and I think it’s super cute! Is it possible I can request a cake? I’m curious to see who you’d put me with :)

I have no idea what I’m supposed to put in this, but! My name is Spencer (at least that’s the one I’m trying out rn, but it’s comfy I like it) and I use he/him pronouns. I’m 5’10ish & I currently have black hair that I dye from time to time (probably going to dye it red next). My hair is like...a little past the top of my ears, but it’s an undercut (think Kenma with black hair ig). I have really thin brown eyes (a lot of people think I’m Asian I’m not lol they’re just hooded). I’m not exactly built thin but that’s something I’m ✨insecure✨ about so we’re not gonna get into that lol

Personality wise,,,idk I’m 90% self-deprecating and the other 10% is sarcasm. I’d like to think I’m a pretty creative person although I’m extremely logical. Creativity is more for fun vs logical on a day-to-day basis if that makes sense?

I used to be really athletic but I started doing other things and since then that’s kinda dwindled away. However lately I’ve been trying to kick ✨depression✨ in the ass and get back into being athletic and stuff. I’m learning how to box and a few friends and I want to take up volleyball when it gets warmer. I used to be a soccer player though and I want to start doing that again, too.

A lot of people tell me I’m musically talented. I like to think I am on a good day, I guess (I’m bad about describing myself lol sorry). But I play a little piano and ukulele but I play guitar & sing mostly.

Even though I try not to be I’m super competitive and legit subconsciously turn everything into a competition, but I try to stay lighthearted about it. Even though I come off cold to people when I meet them (RBF + introvert yikes) I really care about my friends and wear my heart on my sleeve even though I try not to show it.

Quick stuff if this isn’t too long already?

Zodiac: Sun-Leo Moon-Virgo Rising-Cancer

MBTI: INPT-T

Asked my friends what colors they’d describe me with & made this:

Favorite anime is either the disastrous life of saiki k or haikyuu!! (leaning towards hq tho)

I don’t have a favorite color but I wear a lot of red and black

Punk/slightly alt style with a lot of graphic tshirts? That’s basically my style

And yeah! I’m sorry if this is really long lol I tend to ramble when I don’t know what to say heh

Spence back again 😅😅 I forgot to attach the pretty color thing my friend told me to make

@spence0112

Hahaaaaaaaa 😅 sorry for the wait but thank you for your patience 😭

Romantic Matchup

Tendou Satori

How Y’all Met

Ight kinda embarrassing

But y’all Met in therapy 🤠

Yup

Group therapy

Legit every time he heard you talk

He was like:

Mood

Felt that

Relatable

So after group he went up to you and was just like

“Hey if you ever need to talk to someone I’m always available!”

And he gave you his digits 😗

Ok fast forward a bit

You we’re having a REALLY bad day

Like the depression was kicking tour ass

And you don’t know why

But you called our boy Tendou

Oop homeboy ZOOMED over to you

He was like do you wanna talk about it

And you said no, you just needed something to take your mind off of your ✨depressive state✨

He remembered you saying something about wanting to learn volleyball

And it was the end of the day... 👀

So he took you to practice with him

It was actually super fun!

He taught you all sorts of moves

And you we’re really impressed by his guest blocking

By the end of practice you felt a lot better

And you actually decided to join the volleyball team

Tendou was super excited to have you as his teammate!

Y’all started to hang out CONSTANTLY

You guys were just super close

So no one was really shocked when you two started dating 👀

They were expecting it actually...

What They Love About You

He loves that he can relate to you

And vice versa

Y’all truly just understand each other

He loves that your willing to battle your depression

It honestly inspires him to kick the rest of his depression in the ass

He loves your style!

He would wear jeans and a t shirt every day if he could

Matching t-shirts 👀 👀 👀

He loves how naturaly caring you are

He can see past the rbf so don’t worry about that

But the fact that you treat people with care and kindness is a plus for him

Favorite Things To Do Together

Ok this could go two ways

Option A is the definition of crackhead things

A lot of midnight shopping trips

A lot of gas station hauls

You get the gist

Or there’s option B

Which Is very chill 🙂

He likes to just stay in and watch anime or read manga with you

So whatever’s more your vibe

But he likes doing both 👀

Random Hc

His favorite anime is Saiki K as well 😗

So that’s the show you two always watch together

You two

Do in fact

Have matching t-shirts

Ahhhh so cute

You guys told your therapy group you were dating 😭

They were surprisingly supportive 👀

Astrology

When Taurus and Leo come together in a love affair, they can be a great couple because they know how to stroke one another’s egos and love to have their own stroked!

They have similar needs: Taurus needs plenty of affection, to be loved and cherished, while Leo likes compliments and wants to be adored and admired.

They’re both extremely loyal and possessive lovers.

Since they have such similar desires, they can generally provide for one another’s needs quite well.

These two Signs both love status and possessions.

They prize physical comfort and luxury; Leo is often flamboyant about attentions and gift-giving, which will greatly please Taurus, who loves the most traditional forms of courtship.

Though they can work together quite well, it’s not all roses between these two; both Signs are very stubborn and must work hard to understand and accept one another.

Overall Aesthetic

2000 Retro

Out of my league - Fitz and the tantrums

Dissolve - Absofacto

Boyfriend - Coin

Wait a minute- Willow

I’m sorry this is just to cute not to add 😭

(NOT MY ART)

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu fandom #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu matchups #tendou #tendou satori #tendou x reader #tendou x y/n

[whisperednarratives]

EVOLVE

/ɪˈvɒlv/

verb

1. develop gradually.

summary:

bakugo katsuki has hated l/n y/n since the moment she first took a punch for izuku midoriya.

the beginning of bakugo’s reign of resentment towards the girl was also the start of a wonderful friendship between izuku and herself.to say bakugo hated this arrangement was an understatement.

and things only got worse after that.after junior high school, both teenagers found themselves realising what they truly wanted.he had his goals and she had hers yet to get to where they wanted to be, they both had to attend the prestigious u.a. high school.

this is the story of how two future pro-heros found their feelings evolving over time until they realised that there really was a thin line between love and hate.

•

pairing:

bakugo katsuki x reader

genre:

enemies to lovers/slow burn/a bit angsty(?)

a/n:

i do not own or take credit for any part of bnha/mha’s manga/anime characters, plot etc.

all of it belongs to kohei horikoshi. i do not take credit for any art/photographs/visuals that will be used for any part of the story.

to be added to the TAG LIST of this story; please feel free to message me!

[NONE OF THE FOLLOWING CHAPTERS HAVE BEEN PROOFREAD OR EDITED]

[AGE: SIX YEARS OLD]

“If you don’t stop bothering him, I-I’ll fight you myself!”

Izuku Midoriya raised his tiny fists at his friend. He knew Kacchan could go a bit overboard sometimes, but it seemed like today he had finally snapped.

“You’re going to stop me?” Bakugo Katsuki threw his head back in laughter. “With what? You’re just a Quirkless little brat.”

Izuku rubbed his eyes, the tears becoming even harder to hold back. Kacchan’s fists were raised, no signs of his Quirk being activated yet, however, his ‘friends’ behind him had already activated their’s. It seemed as though they would do anything to impress their leader, even if it meant harming an innocent boy.

“K-Kacchan please! Why do you have to be so mean?” Izuku was crying now. Although he was trying to be brave, the tears flooded his face as his voice trembled.

The boy Izuku had been trying to protect stood behind him. He was too scared to say anything to the blonde boy who seemed to hate them for no reason.

Bakugo’s expression did not change, showing no signs of sympathy for his classmates. Instead, he took one step forward and pulled fist back back to attack.

Izuku raised his arms in front of his face, knowing what was coming. His eyes closed as he placed his arm over them, waiting for Kacchan’s fist to collide with his body but the strike never came.

Instead, he heard a groan of pain causing his head to lift from its position, his eyes now uncovered.

His line of vision was blocked by a bright blue. A girl stood before him, her hands clutching her reddening cheek. She was panting, as if she had just ran a marathon.

As Izuku moved his head to the side, he managed to catch a glimpse of Bakugo’s face. His eyes had widened and his mouth was open as he clutched his fist.

The girl looked at Izuku over her shoulder.

“You okay?” she said, flashing him a smile.

Izuku found himself nodding. He didn’t trust his mouth to speak yet.

It seemed as though the girl had taken a punch for him, even when he had no idea who she was. She was staring right at Bakugo with such defiance that it left Izuku shaking in his place. He knew firsthand how much pain Bakugo could cause even with his small fists yet here she was, still standing.

The boy Izuku had been protecting had already ran off.

It seemed as though everyone was in shock because it wasn’t until the girl spoke up that Bakugo realised what had happened.

She had been so fast to jump in front of Izuku that Bakugo hadn’t even been able to realise until his fist had collided with her cheek.

“Why don’t you walk away before this gets any worse?”

Izuku watched Bakugo’s mouth close instantly as his eyes glared daggers into the girl’s form.

“Who do you think you are?” his fists were clutched tightly against his sides as he took a step forward again.

The girl stayed unintimidated and instead, took a step towards him as well.

“Someone who thinks you’re a big bully,” she stared back at Bakugo with as much ferocity as she could.

“WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?”

Bakugo’s palms held the telltale signs of his Quirk being activated as he raised his hand again.

“Bakugo, stop! She’s that weird girl with the rock Quirk!” a boy yelled. “She made someone land up in the nurse’s office once!”

Bakugo’s eyes narrowed and he saw the girl flash him a smug smile. The ribbons in her hair had loosened as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her left cheek was now a bright red because of his punch and it didn’t seem like she was going to give up anytime soon. For some reason, he was reminded of himself as he continued to study her...

And he didn’t like it one bit.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m the strongest person in this class, I can—”

Bakugo’s words were interrupted as their teacher’s voice was heard from the distance.

“Bakugo Katsuki! Your parents are here to pick you.”

Letting out a scream of frustration, Bakugo lowered his hands. He was contemplating ignoring the teacher altogether, before he decided against it. His mother had a nasty temper and he wasn’t in the mood for a scolding today.

“This isn’t over yet,” he growled, before turning on his heels to face his friends. “Come on.”

As Bakugo retreated the scene, he looked over his shoulder in time to see Izuku grab the girl’s extended hand.

The amount of anger that surged through Bakugo’s body upon seeing the scene was something he’d never felt before.

How dare this unknown, annoying little girl stare at him so boldly?

How dare she protect dumb Deku who deserved every punch thrown his way?

Nobody had ever stood up to Bakugo before. Nobody.

So how can this girl have the audacity to face him with such unreserved opposition?

Suddenly, Bakugo remembered who she was.

Always sitting alone in their classroom, she often stared out the window. Her behaviour always got her reprimanded by their teacher but she was one of the first few kids (much like Bakugo) to manifest their Quirk.

He remembered her showing how she could float some stupid rock in the air for a few seconds before her face turned green.

She wasn’t strong at all. Just some nobody who could do a few party tricks.

Then why did that idiot say she landed someone in the nurse’s office?

Bakugo felt himself rolling his eyes as he got closer to their impatient teacher.

Tomorrow, he promised himself silently. Tomorrow, I’ll show her who she’s messing with.

-

“Hey! My name is L/N Y/N, what’s yours?”

Izuku stood silently, staring at the girl’s hand. He looked from her hand to her face repeatedly, before he decided to extend his own.

“M-Midoriya Izuku.”

He was sure the blush he had been repressing had risen to his cheeks, a clear sign of how flustered he was.

After letting go of his hand, Y/N spoke up again.

“You shouldn’t let him treat you that way, you know,” she said, placing her hands on her waist. “He’s just a bully who needs to be taught a lesson.”

The small girl huffed as she frowned at the bushy haired boy.

“Kacchan’s always been like this,” Izuku managed to whisper. “I don’t mind though, he’s my friend.”

The boy’s answer caused her eyes to widen in shock.

“Your friend?” she said. “Friends aren’t supposed to treat you that way!”

“He’s the only friend I have...” Izuku trailed, his eyes starting to water again.

She probably thinks I’m a los-

“No, now you have me.”

Izuku was sure he was about to faint.

Did she just-

“If he ever bothers you again, let me know okay?” her bright smile was back in its place as she grabbed Izuku’s hand.

First, this girl defends him. Then, she offers to be his friend and protect him against the strongest boy he knew.

Izuku was sure he was either hallucinating or asleep.

“W-why would you help me?” Izuku managed to stutter out.

“Because we’re friends now, silly!” Y/N giggled. “Friends always protect each other.”

-

[AGE: FOURTEEN YEARS OLD]

Izuku shook his head, recalling one of his fondest memories as L/N Y/N sat next to him. She was rambling as usual as their teacher tried to distribute their exam papers.

As much as Izuku loved remembering how he had found his best friend, he couldn’t help but feel guilty.

After the two had become inseparable, Kacchan’s anger towards the young boy had increased a tenfold. This caused Y/N to fall victim to Kacchan’s wrath as well.

And if Izuku didn’t know any better, he was almost certain Kacchan hated Y/N as much as he hated him.

However, the young girl never stopped defending him in any way she could. Her and Bakugo had fought more times than he could count, with Bakugo terrorising anyone who tried to befriend Izuku or the girl.

She was still never as cruel as Bakugo. She dealt with him with her words rather than her fists. Izuku had seen the extent of her Quirk and abilities and knew she was strong - dare he say, as strong as Kacchan - but she never used her skills to torment the blonde boy.

Bakugo was the exact opposite.

Y/N was made fun of constantly but the worst thing Bakugo had done was burn all of her textbooks the previous year. Izuku had watched in horror as the young boy burnt her backpack to crisp, Y/N’s eyes brimming with tears.

And that was when she had snapped.

Izuku had never seen her that angry before yet he still remembered the words she had said that day.

“I hate you, Bakugo Katsuki. I am done trying to be the better person. From now on, if I see you so much as breathe near me, I will not hesitate to let the ground swallow you whole. You’re nothing but a dick,” she had said. “Stay the fuck away from me or you’ll regret it.”

Even since that incident, they hadn’t spoken to each other nor clashed heads. Their rivalry had reached the point of unresolved hatred and Izuku knew that Y/N hadn’t lied back then. Kacchan hadn’t exactly stopped bothering Izuku but he always kept his distance whenever she was with him.

Which meant he had noticed the blatant honesty in her voice as well.

Izuku had asked Y/N if she could actually control her Quirk enough to make the ground swallow people and she had just laughed. Although she was back to normal, he doubted she would really go through with the threat. However, Izuku knew it wasn’t a risk Kacchan was willing to take.

As they sat in class, waiting for the last day of junior high school to end, Izuku was thankful that he had managed to make a friend he knew he could trust with his life.

Beside him, the girl suddenly stopped talking as the teacher approached his podium.

“I would pass out these forms considering it’s your third year at this school,” the teacher paused. “But you’re all going to opt for the Hero Course anyway so what’s the point?”

The class started cheering, excited to finally be able to train for something they’ve always to do.

Y/N and Izuku had always talked about joining the Hero Course together. One of the reasons Izuku had even considered applying to the same school as her was because of how much the girl had pushed him.

“Quirkless or not, you’re still going to be an amazing hero one day Izuku!“ she had said.

After a moment of silence, Izuku spoke up.

“Why? Why do you think I can be a hero without a Quirk?”

The girl raised her gaze to meet his before replying.

“Because you are one of the most bravest people I know. We met because you tried to take on Bakugo without a Quirk and I’ve always admired that about you. Your ability to have the pure guts to take an enemy head on!”

Y/N never failed to make Izuku feel like he was the strongest person in the world, Quirkless or not.

Even now, as their teacher continued, she leaned towards him from her desk.

“We’ll train together later, okay?” she whispered.

Training mostly consisted of Y/N trying to gain better control and precision over her Quirk as Izuku took notes but he didn’t mind.

He wanted to help his best friend get stronger in any way he could.

Nodding slightly, Izuku’s train of thought was interrupted by Kacchan speaking up.

When Bakugo spoke, the entire class knew it was time to shut up. Someone didn’t stop when he was talking once and they ended up getting blown across the school during lunch break.

“No need to put all of us in the same category,” he said, his feet up on his desk. “I don’t plan on aiming low like these extras.”

She kept her head down as she scoffed at his words.

What an arrogant idiot.

“Ah yes, Bakugo. You plan on going to U.A High School right?”

This caused her head to snap back up, eyes wide as she glared at the back of Bakugo’s head.

He’s planning on going there too?

As her classmates around her discussed how difficult her dream school was to get into, Bakugo continued to boast about his achievements.

She felt an uneasy pit settle in her stomach.

As much as she wanted to get into U.A, she couldn’t bear the thought of having to spend the next three years with Bakugo.

And if he found out I was applying along with Izuku, he’d never let-

“L/N and Midoriya, you plan on applying to U.A as well right?”

Y/N buried her head in her hands as the teacher called her out. She knew Izuku was probably stiff as a board besides her as the entire class shifted their eyes towards the two teenagers.

It wasn’t long before the entire class bursted out laughing.

Even though they weren’t laughing at her, Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed in anger.

She knew how hard it had been to convince Izuku to apply to U.A with her but she couldn’t bear the thought of her classmates making fun of her friend.

“You can’t just apply thinking you’ll get in without a Quirk!”

“Like they’d ever take a Quirkless kid like him!”

Before Izuku could respond, Y/N had stood up in her seat.

“Why don’t all of you shut up and mind your own business,” she snapped back at the kids who had made the previous comments.

Everyone else immediately shut up, knowing how protective the girl was of her friend.

“Well Y/N, you do have the best scores in class besides Bakugo. I’m sure you’ll be able to qualify, considering how strong your Quirk is!” the teacher said, trying to diffuse the situation. “As for Midoriya, it doesn’t hurt to try.”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N sat back down.

Izuku gave her a small smile, silently thanking her.

With a subtle thumbs up his way, she went back to waiting for this class to end so she could head home already.

Little did she know, Bakugo had heard the teacher’s comment about her Quirk and his fists had clenched in anger.

He couldn’t believe he might have to deal with her for the next few years of his life. The thought made him angrier by the minute and he knew the only way he could end his frustration was through one thing.

Deku.

-

Walking back into the classroom to see Bakugo towering over her friend was not something Y/N was happy about. His friends continued to laugh as he snatched something from Izuku’s hands.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

All four teenage boys turned around to face her.

Bakugo’s scowl was instantly replaced with a smug grin.

This was going to be good, he thought. She hadn’t spoken to him for the past year and he had been waiting for her to finally burst. He hadn’t taken her threat lightly but he knew Y/N didn’t have the heart to actually harm anyone.

It was why he found her even more infuriating.

“Oh look, it’s Deku’s little bodyguard,” Bakugo said.

Even though it had been quite long since she’d interacted with him, Y/N was able to calm herself down before taking any action against the blonde boy.

Y/N sighed before walking towards the group. She realised he had taken Izuku’s notebook, one in which he kept all of his tips and tricks to do with all the heroes he had ever heard of. She knew how important it was to him, considering it was the closest thing he had to make him feel like a hero.

“Hand his book over and walk away before I choose to get violent.”

Bakugo seemed to have realised the importance of the notebook as well as his grip tightened around the tattered object.

“No, I think I’m good. Why don’t you try and take it from me?” Bakugo extended his arm towards the girl, his grip still intact on the book.

A year later and he’s still an insolent fool.

The girl’s calmness was slowly starting to fade away and Izuku knew she wouldn’t hesitate this time around.

Shaking his head, he tried to tell her to stop but she didn’t listen.

“I swear I am about to shove a brick up your ass. Give him the notebook back!” Her hand reached out to grab the book but Bakugo was too fast.

He turned on his heels just in time to avoid her, taking a several steps towards the window as she continued to try and grab Izuku’s book.

Bringing both his hands to encase the journal, Y/N immediately realised what he was about to do.

“Bakugo don’t you dare-”

It was too late.

The boy had already burnt the book, flipping it over his shoulder and out the window.

Izuku let out a choked sob as he watched Bakugo burn his dreams to the ground.

Literally.

Y/N’s mouth remained open in shock.

“What happened? Didn’t you say something about the ground swallowing me whole last time?” Bakugo laughed as the girl stood as still as a statue before him.

She hadn’t realised her hands had started shaking out of anger until a brick flew inside through the window.

Bakugo, whose back was facing the window sill, didn’t realise until the brick landed a harsh blow on his head.

“OW! WHAT THE FUCK?”

Scowling, he grabbed the back of his head in pain.

But Y/N wasn’t done.

“What is wrong with you? How can you be so cruel?”

Her hands still hadn’t stopped shaking.

“What did you just say?” Bakugo screamed, taking a step towards her.

“How can you be such a jerk? That notebook was so important to him and you just destroyed it without a second thought,” Y/N’s eyes were now burning with such resentment for him that Bakugo almost stopped in his tracks.

“What is your goddamn problem? WHY DO YOU HATE US SO MUCH?”

This was the first time any of the boys had heard her yell.

Her question rang throughout the empty classroom and Bakugo couldn’t help but bite back with as much severity as he could.

“Because neither of you extras deserves to go to a place like U.A. U.A is a school for people like me. I want to be the number one hero one day and I don’t want anyone, including you two idiots, stopping me.” Bakugo stopped before turning to face Izuku. “If you want to be a hero that badly, why not try swan diving off the roof to get a Quirk in another life?”

Y/N swore she saw red as she jumped towards Bakugo without a second thought.

She managed to land a punch to his face before Izuku had grabbed her arm and pulled her away.

“YOU BITCH!” Bakugo screamed, launching himself at the girl.

“Bakugo, stop! You can’t get into a fight again!”

His friends grabbed both his arms, dragging him towards the classroom’s door.

“JUST WAIT AND WATCH, YOU FUCKING DICK,” Y/N screamed as Izuku struggled to hold her back. “I WILL GET INTO U.A AND BEAT YOUR ASS. THAT’S A PROMISE.”

As Bakugo’s friends practically threw him out of the classroom, Y/N heard his voice call out her name.

“I’d like to see you try.”

TAG LIST: @sizzlingbarbarianglitter

#bakugo katsuki #bnha oc #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #mha bakugo katsuki #mha katsuki #mha fanfiction #mha oc #bakugo katsuki fanfiction #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugou #dynamight

[behindheremeraldeyes]

sasusaku month 2020 day 1 - stuck with you . title: Behind Your Curtains . summary: Feudal AU- She's the daughter of the Daimyou and he was design to be her personal guard. They had already accepted the obligations that came with their titles, but life had other plans for them.  . a/n: HAPPY SASUSAKU MONTH!! Ahh the best month of the year is finally here and not even the quarantine will ruin our party! I have a lot of nice things planned and I can't wait to see our tag flourishing! Well, enough of my rambling! I hope you enjoy this one (even though it's a little too long). I started this fic a couple of years ago and only now it felt right to continue! Let's see how it goes!! . Rated: K+ sudare:  are screens or blinds. They protect the inhabitants of the building not only from the elements, but also from the eyes of outsiders. In old tales, a court lady would conceal herself behind a screen when speaking with a man outside her immediate family. She could peep through it and see her interlocutor, but because he had to remain at a distance from it, he could not see her.

.

They were all gathered at the main room of the Haruno palace when he first laid his dark eyes on her delicate silhouette.

__

Times were difficult in Konohagakure. Due to the new political scenario unwrapping around the village, both he and his older brother had been called that morning by the Daimyou so they could be designated to their new positions within royal guard. Itachi, the smartest, had been promoted as chief of the royal family’s personal guard and Sasuke, the fastest, was now only responsible for the princess’ safety. Those were very honourable positions and only the best warriors could be selected to be so close to the most important family of the Fire country, and if anything, both the Uchiha brothers knew their parents would be proud of them if were they still alive.

The three men in the room were now discussing new strategies regarding the newly acquired positions, and every now and then, Sasuke caught himself sparing quick glances at the princess who sat obediently next to her father. For she was the newest object of his protection, his objective mind couldn’t help but try his best to find out whatever detail he could in order to succeed in his newest mission. Even if she was hidden behind her sudare, it was possible to tell that the rumours that travelled around the village regarding her secret and royal beauty were, somehow, true. Her figure was small and delicate; and if anything, he carefully observed how her body remained still and collected during the entire meeting.

She is a princess, he thought. In the same way he was trained to fight and kill, she was trained to obey and endure long hours without doing as much as take a deep, noisy breath. She could wear the most precious jewels of the entire country, and her ceremonial clothes could’ve been made with the most expensive silks her father could afford, but still, he knew better than to believe her life was only filled with luxuries and royal pleasures.

No, life wasn’t easy for her, he knew. However, the hardships that came with her social status meant nothing to him. Even if he was now bound to stay by her side during long periods of the day, right now, Sasuke had no desire in offering her his condolences or expressing any of his feelings in front of her. He would carry no pity in his eyes whenever he looked at her, for she is still graced with many things normal people can’t even dream of.

In his eyes, the only feeling prevailing was his sense of responsibility. He is a proud warrior, and his mission within those walls was solely to keep her safe given the new rebellious rumours that had been growing around the village.

His sword is loyal to the Daimyou, and he certainly had no time to waste on the princess’ emotions.

Whenever he looked at her through those bamboo curtains, he wondered if she also understood her part in that whole scenario. Sasuke couldn’t tell whether or not she could see what he was doing— what he was thinking— every time his dark pearls drifted to her, but there was an odd feeling growing inside his chest whenever he looked at her. He could sense her own stare on him, and for some reason he couldn’t quite name, he could feel a mutual agreement talked through hidden glances.

She is the princess and he is the warrior that is supposed to protect her.

There was no logical reason to cross that line given their positions, and certainly, there was no desire to disrupt the balance created by the rules of their respective duties within the Fire country.

“I’m counting on you to keep my daughter safe.” The Daimyou said, his dull, green eyes set on his dark ones as he spoke with all the authority given by his title and all the concern of a father.

Sasuke nodded, bowing his head down in respect. He looked at the princess one more time, and was surprised to see her own silhouette bowing down to him, too. “Thank you for serving my father. From now on, I’ll be at your care.”

Her voice was soft and delicate, catching him completely by surprise. There were people who said the princess’ voice was as serene as the prettiest of the melodies, but if anything, Sasuke believed her voice to be ordinarily enjoyable. The sound felt comfortable in his ear, and judging by her father’s expression, her words meant more than a simple courtesy.

There wasn’t much he could tell about the princess yet, but he had a feeling that, soon, he would eventually learn more about the secrets she hides behind her curtains.

His eyes didn’t leave her, and cordially, he bowed down in respect.

xxxx

It didn’t take long for him to get used to the softness of her voice.

–––

By the end of their second week together, Sasuke had already memorized her— and consequently, his— schedule. They would meet every day after her breakfast, and right after that, the maids would take her to first of many lessons of the day. At first, he believed he would eventually end up seeing the princess’ mysterious face while she was lectured, but soon, he learned that his eyes would be denied of such privilege, for he would always stay outside of whatever room she was in. Even if he had tried to enter a couple of times, saying he was only following orders, there was this old, crinkled lady that would always stop him in his tracks, telling him that his eyes were not worthy of seeing the princess during the practice of her feminine arts, whatever that could possibly mean.

He tried to argue a couple of times, but in the end, his will didn’t prevail against that woman’s strictness. Eventually, the Uchiha settled for sitting outside the door with his guard up, blocking the passage of anyone who tried to interrupt the princess or cause her any harm. His so observant eyes were denied the secret image of the Daimyou’s daughter, however, due to the thin paper that sealed the walls, his ears captured every word that left her lips.

It was not like he had planned on listening to their conversation or anything like that, but that was the only thing left for him to make sure the princess was, indeed, safe. After a while, he realized that he was able to tell a lot about her simply based on the tone of her voice whenever she answered a question. The changes were barely perceptible, but for a skilful warrior such as himself, her real emotions were hidden within every word she pronounced. He knew when she was sad or when she was angry, but he couldn’t really tell when she was happy or excited. Such feelings were harder to detect, he realized, mostly because they seemed to be rare in her life.

The princess wasn’t happy. He had never seen her face, but he could bet his own sword that tears were more common on her face than a sincere smile. He had never heard her laughing, let alone giggling, and if he were to be honest, the only time he had actually heard her voice holding some positiveness was when she ended up correcting her instructor after the older woman had mistaken the kanjis. On that day, not even he could suppress the smirk that grew on his lips, for that woman certainly deserved to be countered after the many times she yelled at both of them for stupid things.

For a reason he couldn’t quite understand, though, the Uchiha was tired of listening to her mean words towards the princess. No matter how hard she seemed to try to follow the lessons, it was never enough. 

That’s not how a princess must behave. You’ll never find yourself a husband if you keep up with such childish act. Your father would be ashamed of you.

Harsh words left those old, chapped lips every day, and if anything, the princess would always answer politely with a Forgive me, sensei or I’ll try harder next time. She didn’t deserve such things, but Sasuke figured he was not the one to judge. As a warrior, he had no idea of how she should actually behave or what abilities she was supposed to master. Her world was incredibly strange to him, who saw and heard things from a completely different point of view.

He couldn’t care less about things such as etiquette or the proper way of serving tea. Even if those were traits that probably impressed the royalty and the rich people, common men such as himself knew better than to believe women should be evaluated by the way they held a fan. Were the princess able to wield an axe or even heal the wounded, then he would certainly be impressed. 

However, he knew he would never have any say in what the Daimyou’s daughter should do or know in order to be worthy of her title. He was nothing but a mere warrior whose more valuable possession was his sword.

His opinion didn’t belong to her world.

Still, he couldn’t help but take the side of the stranger he was destined to protect.

“We should stop here, ohime-sama. The lesson is over.” Her instructor said, no sign of empathy detected in her words.

“Hai.”

The sadness in her voice was the last thing he noticed before standing up and straightening his clothes. Her next lesson was about to begin, and unconsciously, he just hoped for her day to end already.

xxxx

The first time she actually called him by the name caught him off guard.

––

After the many complaints received by the Daimyou regarding his daughter’s lack of compromise during the lessons in the past few months, the concerned father allowed the princess to take some time to decide on what should be done about that. Her father, for what Sasuke could tell, has always been a decent man, whose number one priority was her well-being. Of course, he also understood the implications of her position and the importance behind every skill taught to her by the old women of the palace; and he knew how that would affect her future in a couple of years. More than anyone, perhaps, that poor man knew how important those lessons were, especially because those women would be able to teach her certain things that, as a man, he could never truly understand.

Sakura needed those women in her life, even if she couldn’t really see the reason why, for she needed that kind of guidance in order to blossom into the perfect princess they all want her to be.

She needed to be more feminine. Even a stoic warrior such as himself could understand that. So, imagine his surprise when, on a summer morning, the servants brought her small, bamboo prison to watch the morning practice of the royal guard.

“The princess is watching you, little brother.” Itachi started, a smirk on his face as they spared together. “You better not lose in front of her.”

“Tch. You say that as if knowing that would make any difference.”

“Oh, come on…” He dodged an attack, his long, tied hair dancing in the air. "You have to be at least excited with your job. You are protecting the princess of the Fire Country. All the others are jealous of you.”

“If you all care so much about the princess, maybe you should spend more time training in order to take my position.”

“Oh, so are you saying it wouldn’t matter if someone else took your position away from you?"

At his older brother’s words, his glance quickly shifted to the princess. Just like before, he couldn’t see her face, but he knew her eyes were on him, and for a reason he could not quite name, knowing those hidden orbs of hers were watching his moves ignited a certain confidence inside him. It was not like it gave him more strength or a new reason to beat his brother, but it certainly made him want to show more of his own world to the imprisoned princess.

Call it possessiveness or even an exaggerated sense of care, but deep inside, Sasuke didn’t want someone else doing his job. It wasn’t because he had grown fond of the princess or anything like that, but the delicacy of their situation had created an unspoken bond between the two of them. In the same way she understood his position, he also understood hers, and in silence, both of them created an intimacy neither of them ever believed to be possible. He was there for her when everyone else judged her, and she was there for him when the world seemed to be comparing him to his older brother.

It was hard to explain for it made no sense, but it was real, nonetheless. 

So real that it made him unconsciously want to show her how strong he actually was. And even if he wasn’t truly aware of such will, that was exactly what he did.

In a matter of seconds, his attacks grew more precise and aggressive, catching his older brother by surprise. The impact created by their wooden swords created an echo that spread throughout the training grounds, making everyone stop to look at the them. Even with all those amazed eyes on them, Sasuke could only care about hers at that moment. His heart was beating faster, his muscles were perfectly responding to his commands, and for the first time, it became easy to detect Itachi’s own openings during his counter attacks.

He was going to beat his brother. He was going to win and show everyone he was the only one fit for his position by her side.

One, final and precise blow was the last thing that took him to defeat his brother. He didn’t really know how or when it happened, but soon, Itachi’s eyes were looking at him from the ground. There was a surprised look on his face, and dust stuck to his cheeks due to sweat. His wooden sword laid far from his grip, and when a smile crossed his brother’s face, Sasuke realized he had, indeed, won.

“You sure didn’t let the princes down, little brother.”

“Tch, stop with this nonsense. I didn’t know the sword had hit your head.”

A small wave of happiness took over the younger Uchiha. As he panted, a smirk crossed his lips before he used his free hand to brush away the strands of hair from his face. For the first time in what felt like years, he was the winner of their sparing session, and that felt oddly right considering the unexpected guest that had her royal eyes on him. The princess was there, still hidden behind her curtains, but her presence alone was strong enough to shift the entire atmosphere around them. Sparing in front of her made things more exciting, and even if he would never admit his selfish feelings out loud, having her there made him want to win like never before. She gave him a new sense of duty— a new sense of power— that was, at the same time, fierce and pure.

So, this is how it feels to fight for someone, he thought. So, this is how it feels to fight for the princess.

From that moment on, Sasuke understood the real meaning behind their silent bond. He would fight for her and she would watch over him. He would protect her and she would offer him a reason to win.

All of his victories now belonged to her in the same way her eyes and her attention now belonged to him.

With a new fulfilling sensation taking over his proud heart, Sasuke spared her a respectful glance before turning his attention back to his brother. He helped Itachi get back on his feet, ignoring whatever he was saying regarding his connection with the princess, as he took a deep, relaxing breath. There was a soft breeze brushing his face, and even if he was expecting more sneering words from his older sibling, Sasuke was surprised at the supportive squeeze of Itachi’s hand on his shoulder. 

“You did really well, Sasuke. You’ve grown a lot.” He smiled, dropping his hand to his side and resting it on his hip. “Maybe I should take our training more seriously from now on.”

“Hn, maybe you should or else I’ll steal your spot, captain.”

The way that last word rolled out of his younger brother’s tongue made Itachi turn his attention back to the others around them. The warriors seemed to be dividing their attention between the siblings and the princess, clearly forgetting about their own sparing partners. For the moment, the training session seemed to have reached its end, as the warriors were only waiting for their captain’s words to make it official. And at last, that was exactly what he did.

“That’s it for today. Good job, everyone.” Itachi said, clapping his hands and looking around at his men. “Take a break now and start your own patrolling shifts. A-squad, you’ll take the front gate tonight and the others will surround the palace.”

“Hai" The dirty men said in unison, politely saluting their captain.

“Oh, and Sasuke…” He started, his voice now slower in somewhat of a mockery tone. “I believe the princess is waiting for you.”

All the men with swords, including his brother, started to walk away, heading out to their own dorms. In theory, Sasuke was supposed to follow them, but since the princess herself was mere feet away, the younger Uchiha decided to let her know he was only going to retrieve his sword before starting his real job.

Quickly, he crossed the training grounds and soon found himself bowing down in front of the princess’ sudare. Once again, he could feel her eyes on him, feeling proud of the first victory he had dedicated to her. Unlike her handmaidens that looked at him with shallow interest, he could feel that the princess herself was ecstatic to be there.

At least, that was what his heart was telling him.

“Good morning, Ohime-sama. I shall retrieve my sword before I can escort you to your next appointment.”

“The princess will be waiting for you.” One of the handmaidens spoke, catching him by surprise for he could swear the princess was about to answer him herself. He closed his eyes, then, and started to collect himself in order to walk away. Sasuke turned around, and when he was about to take his first step away from her, his ears captured the ordinary and comfortable sound of her voice.

“You were incredible today, Sasuke-san.”

The sound of his name rolling out of her tongue caught him by surprise, making him stop in his tracks. He knew he should just turn around and bow respectfully, but somewhere in the middle of his bewildered thoughts, the Uchiha forgot his manners. Once again, he turned to face her curtains, and apart from the surprised expression he wore, Sasuke couldn’t control his own mouth.

“Sasuke…san?” His lips were parted and there was a tender look on his eyes. He was confused, for sure, since he had no idea that she had memorized his name, but somehow, he also felt honoured.

“I-I… Forgive me for my manners.” She started rambling, clearly caught off guard by his words. “I took the liberty of calling you by your first name since both you and your brother are Uchiha and… Please, forgive me.”

Through the bamboo curtains, he could only see as she messily shook her hands as she spoke, and the clumsy way her words came out brought a soft smile to his lips. For the first time since he started working with the princess, Sasuke could tell she was feeling comfortable around him. She seemed to be happy and excited, and it was not like being called by his first name would be enough of a reason to demand a royal apology from her. If anything, being called like that by her felt quite nice.

“You don’t need my forgiveness, ohime-sama.”

“O-Of course I do. I—“

“Just Sasuke is fine.” He said, softly, making her stop in her tracks at the same time. He offered her a comforting expression, and waited for her to settle for their decision regarding his name. 

“Hai. As you wish, Sasuke.”

A sudden, easeful sensation took over him, making his heart skip a beat at the sound of her soft voice. He bowed down his head once more, and with that light feeling surrounding them, the Uchiha finally made his way back towards his companions.

xxxxxxx

The first time he sees the colour of her hair, he understood the reason behind her name

––

It was still early in the morning when his ears captured a ruckus that suddenly shook the great walls of the palace and scared the birds that were still comfortably asleep in their nests.

He had just finished his daily rounds and was on his way to meeting the princess when the pristine silence was broken by an exasperated and loud voice coming from the chamber where the princess was supposed to be meeting her tutors. By the time he reached the sealed doors, he could hear a certain commotion going on inside, and even if he was quick to identify that it was only that old woman’s cranky voice lecturing her again, the Uchiha couldn’t help but notice there was something odd going on in there. 

“What did you do, ohime-sama!? This is not unacceptable! A disgrace! How could you!?”

His eyes widened in surprise at such harsh words, and he wondered what on earth could have happened. Though he sensed no imminent threat in her voice, he couldn’t help but feel his overprotective instincts taking over his body. His hands clenched, he bit his lower lip, his eyes held a glare and even if he had no idea of what the princess might have done, it only felt natural for him to take her side. 

He wasn’t going to let that woman speak to her like that, no. No matter what might have driven such words towards the young girl, people shouldn’t be treated like that. 

He took a deep breath, then, and quickly, he opened the door, his skilful eyes surveying the place. The princess was behind her curtains, scrolls were spread across the floor and the filthy woman stood right above them, an irritated demeanour taking over her features. She was mad— really mad— as her glaring eyes were still set on the princess. 

“What is happening here?” He asked, the tone in his voice as stoic as ever. “Is the princess in trouble?”

Her head turned so she could face him, and the Uchiha couldn’t help but feel goose bumps running down his spine. “The princess is fine.” She stated, lifting her chin as if trying to recompose herself. “Or, perhaps, she has lost her mind completely."

“And what makes you think like that?”

“See for yourself! Or, even better, ask her since she seems to be having a string of arguments lately!” She said, and at that moment, Sasuke could tell she had lost it. Never before had he seen that woman losing her balance, but apparently, the princess had driven her to the limit. Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to neither judge nor blame her just yet.

“Whatever might have happened, there’s no excuse for the way you’ve spoken to the princess.”

“You're but a simple warrior, raised to fight. Who do you think you are to speak to me about manners?”

“I am a subordinate of the royal family, just like you. I am making sure no one speaks ill of the ohime-same, therefore, be sure I’ll inform the king about your words.”

“You little—” Her face grew madder at his words, and if she didn’t hate him before, she certainly did now. “Don't waste your precious time. I will go inform the king myself and I will tell him to find his precious daughter a new tutor. I hope the next one can make a real woman out of this child before she embarrasses the whole country. Before she—”

“I will not tolerate another word against the princess.” His voice came out strong and without hesitance, cutting the older woman before she had the chance to conclude her speech. His eyes were intensely glaring at her as he held eye contact, but she didn’t seem intimidated by his imposing presence.

“You should know your place. Just a lowlife who’ll never—“

“That’s enough!” Her voice— usually so soft and polite— sounded mature and powerful as it echoed across the big chamber. Two hearts were caught by surprise and eyes widened as all the attentions were now set on the girl behind the curtains. “Not another word about my protector. Leave, at once.”

A deafening silence took over the room after her words, and his heart skipped a beat. The princess made herself heard, and for the first time, she had decided not to stay silent and simply accept such harsh words. Sakura was not going to just listen as she said those words about him, and even if he was more than capable of defending himself against a woman, it felt good to see her fighting for both of them.

She was standing her ground, like a princess should. She should be proud of herself.

A scoff left the older woman's lips before she looked away from the Uchiha, finally deciding to leave the room. Her heels clicked across the floor as she made her way out, and even if he didn’t turn to see her leaving, the door loudly shutting behind them indicated she was gone. They were both left alone in a large chamber, and even if it was normally considered to be an inappropriate situation for a princess, neither of them could deny that the atmosphere felt lighter than ever before.

There was no telling what kind of consequences her actions would have, and chances were her father would scold her for driving that woman away, but the warrior figured that was not the right time to worry about that. His brother has always told him to be proud of his choices, and even if he couldn’t see her face, something told him she was aware of that.

The raven-haired warrior, then, took a deep breath and took a few steps until he was standing closer to her, just next to the scattered scrolls. He still didn’t know what had started that whole thing, but he figured it was none of his business and decided that gathering those things would, at least, help them move forward with their day.

He kneeled down on the ground, his hands carefully took the scrolls. For what he could see, they were all about medicine and medicinal herbs, and he thought that, maybe, that was one of the reasons why that old lady was so mad. Based on all the times he had heard her scolding during their classes, the Uchiha could imagine she didn’t like seeing the princess reading about such things. Women don’t need to know about those things, she probably said, and it was as if he could hear her voice saying such things while taking them away from the young girl. She should be allowed to read whatever she wanted to without being scolded, and if anything, he believed everyone should know a thing or two about herbs and medicine.

Life is really unpredictable, he knew, and he believed she knew it, too.

There was nothing wrong about learning new things and—

His eyes widened once he reached out for the last scroll and saw all that hair on the floor. The colour tinging that long, pink ponytail resembled the Daimyou, but it was prettier and more filled with life—probably due to years of brushing and soaking it in bath oils. It reminded him of the cherry blossoms that flourish on the spring, and perhaps, that was the reason behind her name. Apparently, it had been cut by a clean blade, and now, well, he thought he really understood what went on between those two.

A princess with short hair and peculiar interests. Such an unusual girl, he thought, a soft expression taking over his face.

“Sasuke-san…” She started, making him shift his attention. His eyes were now on her silhouette, and even if it was hard to see, he couldn’t help but imagine those pastel-pink strands now falling just above her shoulders. “Thank you for those words. I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

“Hn, it was not your fault, Ohime-sama.” He finally took all the scrolls, standing up so he could assume his position next to her sudare. “I should be thanking you, as well, for defending me.”

“Oh, save your modesty. We both know she wouldn’t stand a chance against your sword.”

“Your majesty is probably right.” His lips lifted upwards at her words. Judging by the tone of her voice, her heart didn’t seem troubled anymore, and such thing also brought him some unexpected peace. He placed the scrolls in front of her, so she could retrieve her belongings. “Also, if I may intrude, I think short hair is more practical for a princess.”

A warming silence spread around the room, as she slowly took the scrolls with her tiny, delicate hands. Since she was clearly not having any more classes any moment soon, he figured she could resume her reading while they continued sharing that comfortable moment. “Thank you, Sasuke-san.”

xxxxx

The first time he heard her laugh made him realize she was no longer that princess he had met 5 months before.

–––

After spending so much time following her routine, it was inevitable for the Uchiha to feel bothered by certain obligations forced on her by of her position. At first, he had decided that nothing could be worse than the hours spent on marital lessons, but now, he realized that enduring actual marriage proposals were a lot worse than that. 

Whenever the Daimyou received an offer from one of his allied landlords to marry their children, the promised finance ended up traveling all the way to the palace so the princess could somehow interview the candidate. They would spend hours listening to the first-born-sons of whatever land they came from, as they would talk unstoppably about how much of a great candidate they were. They would brag about their lineage, their conquers; and more importantly, they would brag about how much money and gold they could offer her if she accepted the proposal.

Not once had the Uchiha heard any of them actually asking things about the princess. They didn’t seem to care about her interest or her qualities, focusing only on trying to buy her with their fathers’ fortune. It disgusted him to listen to all futility, especially when it came from a person who had the power and position to make her happy. Those men had the chance and the status to actually offer her some company worthy of a princess, and they could show her a life different from the one she has at the palace. 

They could give her a reason to smile and be free— or as free as a princess could be. 

But they were no good. None of them could actually understand the woman she is, and because of that, Sasuke knew she would probably grow even sadder were she to marry any of them.

Those men were all useless.

And he saw no good reason to believe the newest candidate that had arrived from the Wind country would be any different.

His hair was dark brown, his eyes were blue and he had spent the last hour or so bragging about his ability to hunt desert frogs. The Uchiha believed he had explained anything interesting about the animals at the beginning of their conversation, but in the end, he had just resumed to talking about himself. 

What a waste of time, Sasuke thought. Just another noble and egocentric man. The Uchiha would love to see his reaction when he eventually realized the princess was probably more interested on the frog than in him. 

Perhaps they should’ve just sent her the rare creature instead.

“Oh, but enough talking about me!” He said, though neither Sasuke nor the princess believed he was, indeed, tired of talking about himself. “I’ve also brought you a gift, Ohime-sama!” The man stated, looking at his servant that was holding a small chest. The other man approached them, offering the said chest so his master could take it.

The Uchiha’s dark eyes followed the chest, his instincts now telling him to keep his guard up in case that gift could offer the princess any harm. He took a step forward, then, making sure that his presence served as a warning to their visitants.

“Worry not, my dearest guard. I mean no harm to your princess, believe me. My gift is but a mere plant that grows in my country.” The man said, opening the chest to revel, indeed, a small, green plant. Her leaves were incredibly thin and pointy, her veins drawing a peculiar pattern the Uchiha just happened to know quite well. During his missions, many times has he seen those leaves, and many times has he seen some fools touching them and suffering the consequences.

That plant was an urtiga. And though it seemed harmless, there was no way he was going to let the princess anywhere near that thing.

“This is a very rare medicinal plant from my country, Ohime-sama. I’ve brought it to you as a proof of my feelings. This plant is said to cure the wounded and it does wonders to the skin! I myself can’t spend a day without them in my bath!”

That fool had absolutely no idea of what he was talking about. He was obviously lying as if to try to impress her, and at that moment, he just feared the princess was actually believing that nonsense. The urtiga wasn’t an uncommon plant outdoors, but for someone who’s spent her entire life surrounded by walls, maybe it was quite easy to believe such lie. 

Maybe she would actually be fooled by that man and be charmed by the idea of a plant with such miraculous properties. Maybe she would even accept—

"What a delightful plant you’ve brought me, Ōji-sama.” She started, and for the first time, her voice actually seemed thrilled about something. “I've heard stories about this plant a couple of times by my tutors, but I had never really seen them with my own eyes. I thank you for that.”

“There is no need to thank me, Ohime-sama. This is just one of the many wonders of my land that I would love to show you, were you to accept my proposal.”

“How extremely kind of you. I’m certain your land has many wonders like this, but for now, let’s focus on this plant. What’s the name of it?”

“The name?” He repeated, caught off guard by her sudden interest. At that moment, the Uchiha couldn’t quite understand her intentions anymore, and he could feel his curiosity growing on him.

“Oh, yes. Such a wonderful plant must have a name, I presume.”

“Yes! A name! It’s called… Uhm… Divine Branch, right?!” He looked at his servant, and the other man barely managed to nod in agreement. "Yes, this is the name. Divine Branch”

“… Such a wonderful name for such a wonderful plant.” She said, her voice soft as silk. There was a mix of bewilderment and joy, and if he didn’t know any better, Sasuke would have believed that voice to be mirroring her feelings. After spending months by her side, he unconsciously knew how read her emotions through her voice, and at that moment, he knew she wasn’t been honest with that foolish prince.

Those emotions were untrue, he was sure. She was faking them elegantly, and he almost fell for her lie. Almost.

The princess knew about the plant. She knew he was lying, but instead of exposing him, she had decided to mock that man who believed her to be yet another naive girl. 

That poor man, he thought, suppressing a smirk that tried to make its way to his lips. He really had no idea of what that girl was capable of.

“Yes, it is, indeed! And now I’m giving it to—“

“Oh, but please, before you give it to me, would you mind showing me how to use it?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Don't be so modest, Ōji-sama! It’s just us, here. Please, show me how to apply it on the skin.”

“D-Do you… Do you want me to rub it on my skin?”

“Yes, of course. You’ve ignited my curiosity now. I want to see the effects of such miraculous plant with my own eyes. Unless there’s a problem with that, of course.”

“Ōji-sama, I don’t think—“ His servant started, but the prince didn’t listen, determinedly reaching out for the plant with his bare hand. Then, he lifted his sleeve, rubbing the plant up and down his arm. His servant’s face showed a mix of horror and concern, and the prince, being fully aware of what he had just done, did his best to maintain a straight face.

“T-This is how the plant must be used, Ohime-sama.” He started, then, his arm growing redder. “Just rub it and wait for its miraculous effects.”

“O-Oh… I see.” She started, and Sasuke could swear she had just suppressed a laughter. “And this redness is normal, I presume?”

“Well, indeed.” He said, his voice crackling as he began scratching the red area. “Y-You may also feel a bit itchy, but it’s also normal.”

“How wonderful, indeed.” She started. “Thank you for showing me such wonderful plant. I shall try it myself one day.” 

“Y-You really should, O-Ohime-sama.”

The young prince tried to be short with words as he scratched his arm more vigorously. His expression seemed very troubled and his now red arm seemed to be growing as red as a tomato. The Uchiha has never seen that plant causing anything other than an immense discomfort, so they figured there was no real danger to the foolish prince. 

He was certainly going to learn his lesson. In the worst possible way.

“You seem troubled, Ōji-sama.” She asked, knowing very well what was happening to him. “Is there anything wrong?"

“Ohime-sama, if you’ll excuse me, I believe I need to be going now.” He said, quickly standing up, trembling as he held himself not to scratch himself like a stray dog with fleas.  "I’m afraid we’re going to settle our matters in another occasion."

“Certainly. I wish you a safe trip back home, then. And thank you for showing me how to use the… Divine Branch.”

“I-It was my pleasure. Excuse me.”

After clumsily bowing down his head, the man rushed out of the room, his servant running after him so they could try to help him somehow. The large doors were closed once they were out, and as soon as they were out of their sights, the Uchiha allowed himself to relax. There was a sly smile on his face, now, and were he not by her side, he would be laughing out loud at that moment. 

He couldn’t lose his composure in front of her, no. However, as the princess, she couldn’t seem to care about that at that moment.

The silence of the room was ruined by a wave of laughter that escaped her lips. It was silly and pure laughter— much similar to a child— and it was undeniable that she was having a great time. The was probably the best reaction he had ever seen from her, and at that moment, he just wished to hear her laughing more often. She had been a great actress during the whole thing, and right now, she just couldn’t hold back the satisfaction of a well-done job.

“I can’t believe he actually rubbed the urtiga all over his arm!” She said, still laughing to her heart’s content. “Divine Branch!? What did he take me for? That fool!”

“Your majesty!” Her handmaiden said, surprised to actually see such reaction coming from her.

“Oh, please, every person in the room knew what that plant was.”

“Still, this is no way for a princess to behave. I shall inform your father immediately.”

The maid spoke, firmly, quickly leaving the room so she could go inform the Daimyou of what had happened. That woman was supposed to have stayed by the princess’ side, and yet, she was just another one who didn’t really care about the young girl.

How sad, the Uchiha thought. Such a woman with no sense of loyalty to her princess. He just hoped the princess wouldn’t let those words discourage her laughter.

“Tch.” The princess sighed, taking a deep breath and recomposing herself. Silence took over the room for a couple of seconds, until she decided to speak once more. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone rubbing an urtiga so vigorously against their skin. He’s going to keep scratching for at least two days, don’t you think, Sasuke-san?”

“At least three, your Majesty.”

“Yeah… I believe he won’t forget me anytime soon.”

“Certainly not, your Majesty.”

“And my father will also be quite mad, too.” She said, but her voice was still filled with joy.

“I'm afraid he will.”

“Did you think it was too much? Be honest with me.”

“If I may, Ohime-sama… I don’t think you should worry about of anything that has happened in this room. You were simply curious about the Divine Branch. We all were, so I believe your majesty was great today.”

Another silence took over the room, and though he couldn’t see, he knew she was smiling. She shouldn’t blame herself for making a fool of that man, especially when he was the one trying to impress her with that lie.

She really was great that day.

She had played the prince’s own game and won in all the best ways possible. He didn’t even know what hit him, but the princess—oh— she knew exactly what she was doing. Her father would be furious once he heard about what she had done in order to get rid of yet another suitor, but it had certainly been a pretty fantastic trick.

Fantastic enough to make her laugh.

xxxxx

The first time he saw her tears, he knew he could never let her go.

––

And though the rumours had stopped and peace seemed to have prevailed, the castle was soon attacked. 

It happened at night, when most people were asleep and no one was expecting an attack. Over 300 men carrying swords and spears invaded through the gates, killing everyone that stood between them and the Daimyou. Royal guards were down, maids were slaughtered, and in the middle of that bloody mess, the rebels set the palace on fire. Screams composed a symphony of despair, and at that moment, both of the Uchiha brothers knew what they had to do.

They had to save the royal family. While the rest of the guards took care of the masses, they had to take the king and his daughter out before it was too late. They were asleep in their rooms when they heard the commotion, and they had barely any time to say goodbye before heading out and mixing themselves amongst those warriors. Itachi went after the Daimyou and Sasuke went after the princess, and even if they had been together for a long time, eventually, the two brothers were separated.

Each of them had their own orders to follow. Each of them was bound to their own person. And though they didn’t want to part, the Uchiha brothers knew what they had to do.

In order to reach the princess’ chambers, Sasuke had to fight his way through a lot of men that were trying to kill him. He swung his sword, landing precise hits and dirtying himself with the blood of his enemies. Eventually, he got cut on the arm by a spear that came from behind, but thankfully, it was really just a scratch. He kicked that man backwards before stabbing his stomach, trying his best not to take too long to reach her.

He had to be fast. At that moment, when the moon seemed to be tinged by the blood of innocent people, he could just hope for her to be alive. She still had her whole life ahead of hers, and the gods would be unfair if they allowed her to die before even living. There were still scrolls she had to read, stories she had to tell and places she had to meet.

No, the princess could not die that night. He wasn’t going to allow that.

His tired feet had finally arrived at the corridor that lead to her room, and much to his apprehensive heart, there was an assassin trying to force his way inside. Though the door seemed to be holding up for now, Sasuke knew it would be just a matter of time before that man could get to the princess. His bloodshot eyes were seeking to spill her blood with his blade, and he knew there would be no stopping that man without taking away his life.  

A man who’s driven by hatred will stop for nothing, his brother would say, and at that moment, Sasuke really understood the meaning behind those words.

“Open the door, princess! It useless to run away! Come outside and take responsibility for all the things your father has done to us!”

“Stand back from this door!” The Uchiha screamed, right before storming towards the bandit. It didn't take long before they engaged in a sword fight, and though he was not as fast as his brother, it was undeniable that his opponent knew what he was doing.

Their blades clashed multiple times, and even if the enemy was trying to distract him by badmouthing the royal family, Sasuke gave him no ears. Both the Daimyou and the princess were good people, and whatever it was that those bandits were trying to obtain, murdering a father and his daughter was not going to get them anywhere. 

They weren’t going to get what they wanted. He was not going to let them.

In a swift move, then, the Uchiha purposefully offered his enemy an opening, and when that dirty man decided to take advantage of that and pierce his left arm, Sasuke took the opportunity and stabbed him in the heart. His left arm was bleeding now and it certainly hurt, but at that moment, as his enemy fell onto the ground, he knew there was no time to worry about himself.

He had to save the princess. He had to get her out of there.

“Ohim-sama, open the door! I need to get you somewhere safe!” He said, banging against the door, his teeth gritted in pain.

“Sasuke-san!?” Her voice sounded exasperated, and at that moment, he was glad to know she recognized his voice.

“It's me. Hurry, you’re not safe here!”

In a blink of an eye, the door was opened, and even if he had expected things not to be as calm and serene as they usually are, he couldn’t help. but be taken aback by the sight of her.

The princess was right there, standing in front of him, and for the first time, there were no curtains hiding her features. His dark eyes widened at the scene, and though he had many times wondered how she looked like, not even in his sweetest dreams would he have pictured such a beautiful woman.

At last, he saw her face.

Her skin was pale and delicate like porcelain, her short hair covered her ears, and her eyes— her emerald-green eyes that have observed him so many times— though clouded by tears, were probably the prettiest things he had ever seen in his life. They shone brighter than her father’s and it was as if they were incapable of holding any secret behind them. They clashed against his dark orbs, looking relieved and scared at the same time. 

They were begging him for help. And he would gladly risk his life for those eyes.

“Sasuke-san! Y-You’re bleeding!” She said, immediately reaching out to inspect his arm. Her touch was warm and soft, and even if his arm was sensitive, her touch didn’t hurt him.

“Don't worry about me, Ohime-sama. We need to get you out of here.”

“What about my father? What about your brother and the others?”

“My brother went after the Daimyou. You are my priority now.”

“But if you come with me, they will go after you, too! Sasuke-san, get out of here!”

“What are you talking about, Ohime-sam—“

“Stop calling me that!” She screamed, leaving him speechless. “If my father’s lucky, his title as the Daimyou will be the only thing he’ll lose! I’m not a princess anymore and you are no longer a royal guard! You’re free!”

As she spoke those words, his eyes could see the way her hands were trembling. The young girl was scared— of course she was— and yet, she was doing her best to protect him. She knew he would have better chances if he didn’t have to protect her, and if that meant he could live or just focus on helping his brother, then she wouldn’t mind staying behind. Sakura was looking after him, like a princess looks after her people. If not for that rebellion, perhaps, she would’ve become a terrific leader.

“Sakura.” He said, firmly, his eyes looking directly into hers. She was certainly caught by surprise by the way her name had rolled out of his tongue, and her green eyes widened at that. “I'm not leaving you behind.”

“B-But why? I’ve told you that I’m not—“

“It doesn’t matter. Even if you’re no longer a princess, I want to save you. So, please, come with me, Sakura.”

His eyes were still on her as he spoke those words, and he reached out with his right hand so she could take it. At that moment, the world she knew was turning into ashes and the people she knew were losing their lives. The former princess was about to begin a new life and he was the only one who would be by her side. They have gone a long way together already, and as she took his hand, they both realized that they still had a long way to go.

Together. The former princess and her former guard.

As they escaped through the narrow corridors of the burning palace, they were leaving behind everything they knew. A new life was about to begin and they didn’t know if her father and his brother would be able to join them one day.

From that moment on, they only had each other.

And that would have to be enough.

#sasusaku #sasusaku month 2020 #ssm20 #ssm20d1 #sasusaku fanfiction #myssfics

[milomeepit]

21 Sanders Street Chapter Eleven: A New Addition

//Amazing art by the wonderful @divinedrabbles can be found here!

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Story Warnings: Death, violence, crime, police, strained marriage, non graphic mention of torture, cursing, mental trauma, stabbing, gang, pregnancy Chapter Warnings: showers, pregnancy, mentions of babies and children, talk about parenthood, food mention Rating: Young Adult Ships: Endgame Logicality and Prinxiety

After Virgil Diaz went undercover, nothing was quite the same at the station. Sure, the squad still went to coffee at the cafe down the street, Logan still fussed over his wife, Roman still risked life and limb to get an adventure. Patton still made cookies on Fridays. But nothing was the same. Not really. The thing, though, was when Virgil came back. That’s when it all changed.

A/N: I have nothing to say for myself. However, stay tuned and keep an eye on your notes for a tag in an update regarding this AU! Because- knock on wood- I think I’ve finally found a solution for my almost year-long writer’s block for it! :D

Logan groaned as he rolled over, swatting at his buzzing alarm clock blindly. He sat up, looking around the room and yawning. Sunlight dripped through the gaps in the curtains, lighting the room in a gentle golden glow.

Arnold padded up to him, headbutting his arm and meowing. Logan absentmindedly stroked the cat’s back, noticing the distinct lack of warmth in the bed beside him. Celine must have already gotten up. Odd. She normally stayed under the covers as long as she could, cuddling up to him and whining for more time.

Logan picked up his hairbrush from his bedside table and made his way towards the sound of running water that drifted from the bathroom. He pushed open the door and paused, drinking in Celine’s sweet singing from the shower. Like a siren, her voice seemed to curl around the room, soaking into his skin and clinging to him.

Of course, that could just be the steam from the boiling hot showers she took.

His gaze traced the outline of her body through the frosted glass, smiling gently. “Enjoying yourself in there?”

Celine gave a start, then turned to grin at him. “I didn’t hear you come in, don’t scare me like that!” She chided, running her hands through her hair, lathering shampoo along her blonde locks.

He chuckled, padding over to the sink and plucking his toothbrush from the holder. “Sorry,” He apologised insincerely. “It absolutely won’t happen again.”

Celine stifled a giggle. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sure it won’t.”

“Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page!” Logan started brushing his teeth. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

“Not much. I was thinking I could try baking that four layer cake recipe your mom gave me?” She hummed in response.

Logan spat foam into the sink, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “Oh, excellent. I’m certain you’ll do wonderfully.” As he drew back from the sink, he noticed a small pink and white stick laying on the bench. “Hm?”

Celine squinted through the glass. “What’s wrong?”

Logan picked up the stick, peering at it. “Is... is this...?” Looking it up and down, his eyes landed on the thin double lines. 

Celine’s eyes widened. “Oh. Oh! Hang on a-” She scrambled to turn off the shower, then grabbed her towel and started drying herself off. “It’s, uh... yeah. Surprise?” She smiled, an awkward and forced smile, looking up at him.

Logan met her gaze, seeing the anxiety clouding her face. “Hey, hey...” He set down the pregnancy test, cupping her face in his hands and touching his forehead to hers. “It’s alright, breathe.”

In his mind’s eye, he could already picture their future, little snapshots of family moments to come.

Helping their child with homework; the two of them hunched over a table, papers haphazard as they poured over books. They’d complain about the confusing names of different bones as they scrawled notes into their workbook. He’d laugh, and Celine would chime in with some mnemonic as she set down cups of tea in front of them.

Or he and Celine sitting on a picnic blanket in the park as summer sunshine warmed their faces, watching their child clamber over the playground. Logan would dig through the cooler and pull out juice boxes and sandwiches for the three of them to snack on. They’d drop down from the monkey bars and scamper over, taking the sandwich with a happy, “Thank you, Daddy!”

Their child nervously sitting in the driver’s seat for their first driving lesson, panicking over the various buttons and mirrors. Logan sitting beside them, gently instructing them how to turn the wheel, reminding them to check their mirrors as they turned in the empty parking lot he’d chosen to help them feel more comfortable as they learned how to control the car.

He could imagine bouncing a toddler on his knee, their chubby cheeks scrunching up as they giggled. Celine scooping up the squirming child, tickling them as they shrieked in delight, reaching out towards him; “Daddy, Daddy cuddle!” 

As he brushed back hair from Celine’s face, he could picture her sitting on their bed, cradling a teeny tiny baby in her arms, a serene smile on her face as she sang to them, her voice soft and sweet and beautiful. His chest swelled with emotion, and he smiled, pulling her close against him.

“Logan, I'm still wet, you're gonna mess up your PJs-” Celine protested, eyes wide.

“Don't care, not important.” Logan responded softly, then pressed a kiss to her forehead. “This is amazing! We're going to be parents. I can't wait to tell the others!”

“Let's- maybe let's not tell everyone? Just yet?” She pulled back, chewing on her lip before she continued. “I mean, it's kind of soon, don't you think?”

He blinked, thrown slightly off guard, then nodded. He understood that. There were a lot of variables they couldn't predict, and while they were both healthy young adults, it would hardly be prudent to tempt fate. “Of course, of course.”

She smiled, raising a hand to rest on his cheek. “I love you, so much, you know that?”

Logan flushed at the warmth of her words. “I love you, too, Cel. And I can't wait for this- next chapter in our book, right?”

Celine laughed, and Logan soaked in the sunshine of her smile, feeling giddy to be here, to be with her, to be alive. He picked her off her feet, twirling across the bathroom as she squealed in delighted surprise. “Lo!” 

He paused, suddenly setting her down. “Wait, no, gotta be careful, I don't want to hurt them, or you-” 

“Logan, it’s alright, calm down!” Celine giggled. “I'm fine, they're fine, it's okay. We're okay. You don't need to worry.”

“Alright, alright, I'm calm.” He grinned, kissing Celine before bobbing down to her belly.

He rested his hands on her waist, gazing lovingly at the smooth expanse of skin, unchanged for the time being. He wondered how large her bump would be. It was different from woman to woman, he was pretty sure. Roman's mother had never had a particularly large belly throughout her pregnancies, but Dawn had swollen up like a beach ball fairly early on.

“I promise I am going to do everything in my power to care for the two of you,” Logan murmured, dotting kisses over Celine's stomach.

“Hey, that tickles!” Celine whined, batting at his shoulder lightly. “If you're going to turn into a Hallmark movie cliche, could you at least do it with a firmer touch?”

Logan chuckled, sitting back on his heels and looking up at his wife, admiring the flush dusted across her cheeks as she crossed her arms playfully. “I love you. I love you so much,” He repeated softly.

She broke into a smile and held out a hand to him. “Come on, sweetheart. How about we go have a crack at that cake to celebrate, huh?”

21 Sanders Street Taglist (let me know if you want to be added or removed! :o):

@pattson @royallyanxious  @wisepuma23 @redisawerewolf @lacrimosathedark  @lucifer-in-my-head @2queer2deer @crayonthegreat @rose-gold-roman @my-happy-little-bean @thats-kat-with-a-k @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @davidthetraveler @just-a-random-word @wolfishhel  @the-no-name-system @everythings-comin-up-aces @awkwardcaitlin @pr0bablypr0crstinating @generalfandomfabulousness @nyamafriend @the-average-loner @livsig @theresneverenoughfandoms @daughterofsomnus @mrtacothethird @jam-the-fan @swlotakulady34 @sher-soc-the-famder

#21ss #milo writes #logan sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #milo's aus #prinxiety #logicality #thomas sanders #pregnancy

[austenholls]

Purple-Hued Night

LOCATION → huntington beach, ca

TIME FRAME → friday night, june 18th, 2027 | 11:00 - 11:47 PM 

NOTES →  written on discord.  winnie & austen chat in the hot tub while sharing a bottle of lukewarm Jameson - about austen’s muse, winnie’s dancing, and caring about what people think. 

TAGGING → @austenholls & @songwheein

Austen 

[ Austen, bottle of Jameson in her hand, shimmies out of her shorts to reveal her red swimsuit bottoms. This night feels weird, it isn't how she wanted it to go, but by now she's somewhere between tipsy and drunk and her barely there high from earlier has dissipated. She slips into the hot tub, eyes attempting to avoid the view of the bonfire. She reaches out to snatch her phone that has spilled from the pockets of her discarded shorts and quickly plays a playlist - the first song being How Will I Know by Whitney Houston ] "There's a boy I know, he's the one I dream of, looks into my eyes, takes me to the clouds above, mmm-hmm," [ She sings softly before pressing the Jameson bottle to her lips, bobbing her head to the music. Eyes peer to her left and spot Winnie, her free hand lifts in beckoning wave. ]

Winnie

[ Clearly the first half hour or so of the bonfire had lured her into a false sense of security that they could all suck it up and get along. She herself hadn’t been involved in any of the drama, but there had been plenty. It had been easy enough to slip away to the deck when she was ready for her exit, but the night had been too perfect to abandon just yet. Cool, ocean breeze, purply black skies. When music breaks the din, she turns to look and finds Austen looking back at her, she can’t help but smile. It’s been nice spending a little time with her as adults. ] There’s nothing sadder than drinking alone, y’know.

Austen

[ She can't tell if there's pity or if it's just the truth. She nods for Winnie to come join, bottom lip worried between her teeth ] Then make me less sad.

Winnie

[ She crosses the deck to the edge of the hot tub, peering down at Austen. The music makes her bare feet tap almost unconsciously. ] Are you sad? [ It only takes her a second or two to fully accept the invite, slipping out of her shorts and cropped tee until she’s stepping and then sitting into the water in her underwear. She reaches out for the bottle. ] Hand it over, sad bitch.

Austen

[ Eyes dart to the slight foot tap and then back to the blonde's eyes. ] A little. Maybe. [ She's too drunk to deny it. Also too drunk to deny herself the joy of watching the thing dancer gracefully step out of her clothes. A sloppy drink is taken before handing over the handle. ] Tell me the secret, happy bitch. Ice blue aura. How are you always so collected?

Winnie

[ She snorts softly before taking a quick swig. God, that’s rank straight. ] I’ve always been conflict-avoidant. [ Eyes roll a little. ] I also care a lot less these days. But I’m not always zen, contrary to what you might think. Clearly I’m a very good actress in addition to being a very good dancer. I’m one singing voice away from being a triple threat, damn.

Austen

[ There's no shame in the fact that she doesn't care how gross the alcohol is. ] Wait -  [ a pause as she points at Winnie. ] Are you saying you /can't/ sing?

Winnie

[ Blonde head turns to meet Austen’s eyes with a raised brow. ] Why do you think I /can/ sing?

Austen

[ Tilts her head, both brows raised ] You were like so good at literally everything in high school. Am I supposed to think otherwise? [ asks with a laugh, holding her hand out and making a grabbing motion at the bottle of liquor ]

Winnie

[ Gladly hands it over, then finally ducks under the water to wet her hair, using both hands to slick it back after she resurfaces. Leans back against the wall of the hot tub. ] I’m a passable singer, I guess. Enough for me to lay something on a track until I can get one of my much better friends to sing it for me.

Austen

[ slips a hand around the bottle, opting to set it aside rather than cloud her mind anymore ] So maybe you are a triple threat. Dancing, Acting, Music ability in some way. Not everyone is so lucky. [ shrugs, looking to the blonde ] You say you care a lot less these days. What's that mean?

Winnie

[ Thin shoulders rise and fall. ] It sounds so douchey, but I just don’t care. If someone doesn’t like me, I’ll find someone else that will. If someone doesn’t believe in me, I believe in myself. [ She’s quiet for a second or two, thoughtful. ] I guess it’s easy to not care as much about other people if I sacrificed what my parents think of me to be happy. If I’m not going to let them stop me, why would I let anyone else? [ Another pause. ] Music helps. A lot. [ She turns her head, looking at Austen curiously. ] Art’s always helped you, right?

Austen

[ Blinks at the other girl - was that real? She's met people who feel that way, but is it ever actually true that you just don't care what people thing? Seems farfetched. ] I.. [ She wonders if she left behind what her mother - Hannah - thought of her, then maybe she'd be freer to care less, too. ] Seems like you've got it all figured out. I can't imagine not caring. [ A dry, possibly bitter, laugh leaves her lips ] Used to. Haven't been able to get much out recently.

Winnie

[ She can’t help but laugh. ] I’m not enough of an asshole to think I’ve got anything figured out— let alone all of it. But I promised myself after... Kennedy— everything— that I was going to stop being happy the way other people wanted me to. I was sick of meeting those expectations. [ She’s quiet after Austen’s explanation about her art slump. Visual art’s never been her strong suit, but she knows how much it hurts to be creatively frustrated. After a moment or two— ] Have you done anything new lately?

Austen

I mean, you seem like you've got it all down. Happy in LA, new look, new you. I feel like the only thing that I've figured out is that I look terrible as a brunette and I am still a child at heart. [ shrugs, looking up at the sky as she leaned back into the hot tub's jets ]  That's what high school was about for you then? Pleasing the parents and fitting into their mold? [ she asks, though she sort of always knew that. there's part of her that can't help but cling to who they all were back then ] Like in general or a new medium? I've been doodling a lot, but nothing that makes me want to finish... I.. [ pauses, looking over at Winnie ] Maybe I'm kind of scared that I'm not good at it anymore.

Winnie

You can’t be ‘not good’ at it anymore. That’s not how it works. [ Art is art is art is art. ] I mean I could break both my legs tomorrow and be objectively ruined, but what you do? That doesn’t just get lost unless /you/ forget it. [ She tips her head to one side, thinking. ] I mean in general. Go somewhere new. Listen to something new. Watch something new. Fuck someone new. Eat something new. Sometimes routine smothers our art, y’know? [ She sinks down into the water a bit. ] Maybe you should do something new, even if you’re bad at it.

Austen

[ She knows Winnie is right - that's why the laugh that escapes her is somewhat exasperated. ] I went to Portland. I fucked a bunch of new people there. Ate a lot of weird new Asian foods... But yeah. I think... there's something stuck inside of me and I'm... [ Talking this much about herself felt weird. This felt weird. ] Maybe I should do something new. [ Caves and agrees, smiling a little before laughing again ] Do you ever get blocked dance or music wise?

Winnie

Sure, yeah. It happens, and it sucks. [ She flicks a little bit of water at Austen— just enough to skim off the surface. ] Here. We’ll have an example. Doesn’t have to work, but it’s worth a shot. Close your eyes.

Austen

[ Flinches when the water comes her direction, furrowing her brow ] Oh, god. This feels like some weird ass hippie bullshit is about to happen. [ Laughs, closing her eyes and settling in - the alcohol is pushing her to trust Winnie a little more than she usually would ]

Winnie

[ Laughing. ] I’m definitely not the hippie of this group. [ She leans out of the water to wipe her hand on her shorts and retrieve her phone. Scrolling through it, she finds the song she wants to play and sets it on the deck between their heads. ] You’re not going to understand what she’s saying, but that’s not important, right? Just trying something new. See if it even gets half a wheel turning in that ginger head. [ She plays 보라빛 밤 on her phone and sits back. It’s a song she’s vibed to for a long time. It makes her think of colors and feelings and she, personally, finds it really emotive— inspiring. She doubts Austen will take nearly anything as much from it as she does. But maybe the language barrier will actually help. Maybe she’s thinking too damn much. ]

Austen

[ smirks ] Now I'm curious who you think /is/ the hippie. [ lets the silence settle, eyebrow raising over closed eyes as she hears the song begin. it's clearly Korean - she can tell that much, but shes never been into K-Pop. She's assuming that's what this is, at least. The music has a strong beat, an identity that's bouncy and she can tell that this is definitely something people can dance to. Austen listens to sad music, slow music when she paints - so Winnie isn't wrong. This is new. She gently moves her hips beneath the water, her head bobbing to the chorus. When it ends, she opens her eyes, looking to Winnie. ] Can you play it again?

Winnie

[ If she tried to pretend she hadn’t been running the entire choreo to herself while the song played, she’d be lyyyyyying. Sunmi is a queen, and Winnie will worship. The grin that splits her face when Austen asks her to play it again is straight devilish. Shit eating. ] You wanna know what it’s called?

Austen

[ Eyes blink a few times as she sees Winnie's grin, her own smile growing ] Sure... I can't say I won't butcher it. But I was just starting to feel something. I need to hear it again. [ She motions quickly with a hand, water flicking off of it ]

Winnie

Purple-hued night. [ That’s her favorite part. Everything about the song /feels/ purple. It’s such good production. She presses play again. ]

Austen

[ There's a shiver that hits her spine - her mind paints an entire piece in her mind before she gets it onto a canvas or paper. Varied hues of purple would mesh perfectly with what she was seeing the first time she listened. As the song plays again, this time the piece lights up in her head in color, the smile on her face unavoidable. Maybe Winnie was right. Maybe new things would spark her muse... just like this. ] [ The music stops again and a drunken Austen finds Winnie's hand underneath the water ] Will you send this to me? I... thanks, Win. [ her voice is soft in a whisper ]

Winnie

[ Again it's like muscle memory to thread their fingers together. Austen's hands are bigger than her own, but they're thin and slight. Winnie squeezes gently. She's still smiling, but it's a little softer now. She nods. ] Don't thank me. Thank Sunmi. [ She winks. ] But yeah of course I'll send it to you.

Austen

[ Austen returns the squeezed hand, an easy laugh escaping her ] Would it be your dream to dance with her? [ Keeps her hand comfortably in Winnie's. It feels like this past week has bonded them in some way. Maybe because they're both some sort of artist ] I don't listen to K-Pop usually.

Winnie

[ She reaches for the bottle of liquor and takes a sip, coughing quietly. ] I'd love to dance with a lot of kpop artists, to be honest. A lot of artists in general. The few times I've done tours or even one-off gigs with people in LA have been so fucking fun.

Austen

[ Releases Winnie's hand in favor of running it through her hair ] I feel like you're going to have to show me some of your tik toks or something because as much as I know you're good at everything... Like... bitch, prove it.

Winnie

[ Winnie scoffs, loudly, and pads her way across the hot tub to sit directly opposite Austen. She drapes her arms along the outer edge and leans back, languidly extending her legs, one reaching out of the water in a pose before she brings it down to splash the water the other girl's way. ] My tiktok isn't hard to find, ass.

Austen

[ She watches the other girl, a brow raising as the other girl's graceful limbs very particularly moved through the air. She's about to speak again when water comes flooding her way - there's just a loud, joyful laugh that leaves her as she wipes off her eyes ] Oh, sorry, I don't go scrounging tik tok for my super smart, always had a booked schedule friend from high school. [ Easily shoves some water Winnie's way, hoping to get her back just a bit ]

Winnie

[ She blows a raspberry, rolling her eyes in response. ] You must've had some other friend back then because I was never super smart. Sure you don't mean Shiloh? [ A beat. ] Maybe she does have a tiktok. [ Leaning forward more into the water. ] I promise you, I'm that good. Whether you find my account or not.

Austen

I mean... like comparing anyone to me - they're super smart. It's not like I fucking read your report card, my man. [ she laughs ] I'm gonna find the account and you're probably like allstar level good. Don't reduce your talent. [ leans forward, matching Winnie's stance ] Or is this an LA thing? Where people pretend like they're not good just to get more praise?

Winnie

[ That gets a loud bark of laughter. ] The last thing /anyone/ gets in LA is praise. [ This time when she splashes Austen with water, it's much gentler. Half-hearted. ] Let me know when you find it. And let me know when you paint something. I wanna see it. First, even.

Austen

[ It feels nice to be around Winnie - like she's less pressure than the rest of the group for some reason. Which is odd considering they'd just talked about the thing that felt the most full of pressure - her art. ] First? [ A soft hum vibrates against her lips. ] Will do. I can make that promise. I can also promise I will be up until all hours of the night finding Winnie Song on tiktok.

Winnie

[ She lifts two fingers to her brow, saluting. ] There are worse ways to go to sleep than knowing there's another girl out there watching my videos all night long. [ A grin. ]

Austen

I'm sure I wouldn't be the only one. [ Austen smirks, her buzz beginning to fade a little and the idea of warm Jameson makes her shudder. She stands, clumsily stepping out of the hot tub - if there are ever two opposites in movement, it's these two - except on skates ] Hey. [ she turns to Winnie after grabbing a towel from a nearby chair ] Could you help me set up a tiktok? I feel like my roller skating could at least get some sort of attention on there...

Winnie

[ She holds up a hand, thumb up. ] You got it, dude. [ Head tips to one side, appraisingly. ]

Austen

[ She nods, though tiktok seems like a heavy investment of time. The redhead gently dries off her legs and torso before wrapping the towel around her waist. ] I'm gonna grab something new to drink, maybe change. Don't have too much fun without me. [ She chuckles, picking up the Jameson and her clothes before waving a quick had to Winnie. She tiptoes toward the back entrance, humming the song from before. Maybe she'd get something out onto canvas or paper soon. ]

#✧·˚.winnie #✧·˚.winnie3 #✧·˚.event1 #pacthq.event1 #✧·˚.events

[lula1991]

My Jewel

Summary

An ancient spell causes a millenary young lady to weaken, it is up to Larry and her friends to help her find the key to return her to normal while a stranger pretends, along with three already known individuals, to take over a captive jewel somewhere in Egypt with the in order to proclaim it “yours.” (The shock of all the chaos in her).

Objective? The guard and the exhibits must prevent it from falling into the wrong hands while between Ahkmenrah and the girl, a romance will slowly emerge that will bear fruit over time.

Genre: Adventure, comedy, romance, fantasy

Warnings: None.

Chapter 5

The Natural History museum was peaceful, there were not many visitors, the morning schedule was used by students for their homework, incoming to university or simply passionate about history..

 Larry was always nostalgic for that place, belonging to years working and leaving his place of employment to attend classes is not to throw trash having free time, he was comforted to visit his old friends, where they still remained alive for as long as the tablet of Ahkmenrah returned to English soil and in the meantime he continued learning in his new work field ..

 He toured almost all the exhibition halls, but stopping where the little Egyptian slept during the day, made her think about how to help her in her shock and how it had been said before, it was not safe to hurry over that idea. But there were too many things hovering in Larry's mind and for some reason, he couldn't part with one of them ..

 He had to refresh his memory for a better thought, maybe he would hit the mark ..

 Up on his right, next to the showcases that contained small artifacts from the ancient world, there was a framed photo showing the men who found the tomb of the queen and her family; and there was something else, one of the names inscribed at the bottom of the picture, would give a hint to your search ..

"Dr. P. K. Anderson: Archaeologist involved in the Larempteh expedition of 1940.”

 Perhaps Mr. P. K. Anderson could tell him the right thing to solve the torment of the little Egyptian queen, but that he was no longer in the world of the living. It had been so many years regarding that event in Egypt ..

 But where to start? Larry analyzed that boy perched along with his father, maybe he was his son and it was only a matter of luck to find that little boy who today would be a man who would help him unravel the dilemma ..

"True works of art .."

 An older man but of jovial age, stood beside Larry admiring in every sense and aspect the temple of the Egyptian sovereign, the room was contemporary, illuminated with two rows of six lights giving view to the exhibition hall made in warm and tiny colors imitations of wear for time ..

"The ancient relics are amazing." Larry admitted admiring the bas-reliefs in the mural to his right at the entrance to the queen's hall.

"It's what the little boy said when he saw them." Said the man and there was a moment of silence before Larry looked confused.

"Did you meet the young discoverer ..?" Larry pointed to the photo.

"You stand in front of him, boy." The man laughed willingly. "Johan K. Anderson."

"You are the son of .." said Larry.

"Peter K. Anderson, was a passionate Egyptologist and I have not lagged behind .." Johan commented with a firm handshake.

"Larry Daley." He introduced himself as he finished shaking his greeting. "I'm still doing my job here, and if you ask me it's a magical place, literally." Larry commented.

“Nice to meet you, Larry. Yes, the museum in New York was not the same since Ahkmenrah's tablet was owned by the establishment. ”Johan mentioned and that really took Larry out of the way.

"You know about the board and its power, how curious." Said Larry.

“They always run that kind of rumor among archaeologists. From curses to magic out of the ordinary. ”Johan commented.

"What about Larempteh's jewel did you know?" Larry tried to get information from him even though that man quickly changed his countenance.

“I have already left the subject of the jewel long ago, Larry, for a long time and in fact nothing was ever known about old jewel, it was just work.” Said Johan. “You should know that I have been looking for information but I didn't find anything so far. I would like to tell them both ... ”and Larry looked at the picture.

"But you can't .." Johan said.

"No?" Larry asked.

"All died. Only I stayed .. ”Johan said and the guardian deduced that this man standing in front of him would be the answer to everything. "Why so much curiosity about the jewel, Larry?" Johan asked a little surprised.

"The girl senses something bad is happening to her .." Larry said referring to Larem.

"I don't know what you're talking about .." Johan evaded the issue Olympic how to hide the worst of secrets.

"Well, maybe that child does ..." Larry tried to convince him to say what his mind was keeping and the man observed that old memory with a sigh of surrender.

"Let's talk alone, my son ..." said Johan.

 A restaurant near the museum was the perfect place for Larry to get a hint or possible help for her. Mr. Johan. K. Anderson was like a signal to the security guard ..

“An expedition like that, it's amazing at 11, try to forget it but there was something about that jewel ..” Johan related.

“Larem has been acting very strangely, she weakens and not only that, she enters a kind of hypnotic trance that also causes her to lose her memory, which is for a few minutes and she then returns to her normal state. It's as if a horrible curse controlled her, something is affecting her .. ”Larry commented.

"Her end will fall upon her .." Johan recalled those words aloud somewhat absent.

"What?" Larry asked surprised ..

"The locals! They warned us, they begged us to leave that grave alone. Well, I thought they talked about the end of the world but maybe it was the end of .. ”Johan tried to continue his deduction.

"The magic in her ..?" Larry completed what Johan couldn't.

“We should pay attention. We should do it! But they also sent Larem and the jewel to Cambridge first, after a while they agreed that she be transferred to New York with separate parts so that the relic would be at the latest with her parents in Cairo, on a date that I never knew what it would be. ”Johan explained.

"How do you know all that?" Larry seemed a bit restless.

“I worked there when I grew up, I got the job as a night guard in that museum and I have lived the same experience as you. Before retiring I was to live with talking figures every night, famous paintings moving within his paintings and among all those oddities, was Larempteh, I had the good fortune to meet her, a good girl and a good Senet player, by the way, devoted to her ideals, kind and warm with his own .. ”Johan revealed commenting a part of his life.

"Yes, she is an extraordinary little girl so I am sure that in her time she was always ready to face the world by herself and that is why I want to help her." Larry paused to continue.

"And you do well, boy .." Johan acknowledged encouraging Larry in his mission.

"Did you mention that your parents are in Egypt?" Larry wanted to corroborate what he had heard before.

“It was a joint expedition, several artifacts stayed in Egypt. Then the rest was divided between New York and the Egyptian museum. ”Johan said without further ado.

"Larem said his father knew the secrets of that jewel." Larry said and Mr. Anderson looked at Larry to continue. "I think we need to talk.."

The Egyptian girl was thoughtful about her talk with Larry but her strange discomfort did not leave her head alone and another part did not cease either because of her and Ahk. They all agreed on the same theme, a coincidence that she was afraid of letting out a sigh and in that Larem unconsciously touched the gift that Ahkmenrah had given her a few nights ago, the girl smiled as she followed her walk until you meet Larry and Nick through the halls of the African Savannah exhibit ..

“ ‘Marhba’(‘ Hello ’), Larry!” Larempteh looked happy.

“Marjarabara, marjaba, majra, yes, whatever. Nice to see you, Larem. He is my son Nick. ”Larry introduced him and she made a brief bow with her head as she greeted.

“Hi, nice to meet you. Is he also a Brooklyn Guardian? ”Larem looked at both of them curiously.

"I see that Ahk brought you up to date." Larry said and she made a little blush to deny.

"A little." Larempteh admitted with a short laugh. "What brings you here?" She was sweetly kind.

“We only gave a night tour. How do you feel? ”And at the question, the girl smiled with tender humor as she brought one of her hands to her chest.

“Aw, how cute. Thanks for caring, seriously. Good for the moment. There were no anomalies so far. ”Larempteh smiled as he put his hands behind his back and shrugged his shoulders.

"Okay. Just don't panic if it happens again. ”Said Larry.

"Agree. Well, I have to go somewhere else. ”Larem put on his prettiest smile.

"Or else, Ahkmenrah will unleash a horrible disaster." Larry joked and she mentally blocked herself, became intimidated.

"Larry!" Larem protested smiling. "I am not with Ahkmenrah most of the time."

“But apparently he does. While always looking for any excuse to be close to you. ”Larry revealed and swallowed saliva in sign that his heart was going a thousand kilometers per hour.

 Larry knew how important Larem was to Ahk and that made him happy for both boys. And although time still did not conspire completely in their favor in them, Larry was certain that those two were made for each other..

“If you excuse me, I must leave you guys. It was an honor to meet you Nick Guardian of Brooklyn. See you later. ”Larempteh whispered those last words using a thin smile as a farewell and continued on her way until she slowly lost herself to the African exhibition..

Ahk cared too much for Larem, so much so that he always looked for any pretext to get an approach to her, especially when he wanted to stay as soon as he saw that the girl was going a little way in his walk through the lobby ..

“Hey, what's up? Do you feel good? ”Ahkmenrah placed a hand on her shoulder.

 Larem could not tell Ahkmen what she was going through even if the boy had lived it in his own flesh, not because of lack of confidence, it would be to kill him while he was breathing if he found out and the young woman did not want to make him suffer for his discomfort. She preferred to reserve her complaint ..

"Yes, don't worry, I'm fine .." Larem's voice was confused.

"Well, I don't believe you .." Ahk misunderstood the transmission of the tone in the queen's words.

"Why? I thought you trusted me, Your Highness. ”Said Larem.

 But Ahkmenrah did not know how to read his eyes as he should, he felt fear, an irrational one, of those rare, who give you to believe that you are going to lose one person for another in the middle. But in this case, how wrong his thinking was, he did not dominate his real intuition well, he had no idea that that did not happen between her and him. If the king knew from the first moment that his heart belonged only to her and although the girl did not show as much as Ahk, it also turned out to be subtly so ..

 Maybe it was that force that carries it, that pushes it and that fills it, that drags it and brings it closer to some god ..  That feeling, turned almost into an obsession, is something that binds him the discharge of energy that is taking away his reason .. That makes him stumble and creates confusion, it sure is the strength of the heart ..

"It was just a misunderstanding, a thousand apologies." Ahkmen was kind.

"Misunderstood what?" Larem asked.

"No, nothing." Ahk said hiding a funny grimace.

"Ahk, what's up?" Larem wanted to know.

"I imagined by your tone something that was not .." Ahk confessed.

"What are you talking about?" Larem asked.

  And Ahk stared at her as a funny grin invaded her real features..

****Flash****

 The pharaoh walked solemnly through the room of the marine world, admiring the beauty of the deep blue of the exhibition hall and its enchanting aquatic life forms until he heard Larem's moans..

“Au no! Not there, Lance! ”Larem shouted.

"Miss, if you keep moving, it won't come out!" Lance exclaimed.

"Yes, but it hurts!" Said Larem.

 And when Ahkmenrah decoded those words he followed the sound of their voices until they reached where a mountain with sea urchins did not reveal the possible image that the king was imagining ..

"I demand a non-sexual explanation in Ra's name now!" And Ahk made an exaggerated real appearance.

"What?! But what do you say, Ahk? Lancelot was just helping me remove these hedgehogs from my arm that stuck to my body when I tripped over a snail. ”She said when the knight pulled out a red hedgehog. "Au, that hurt!"

 Sometimes Ahk could take the double meaning too far but when he made sure there was nothing weird, it calmed his mind ..

"Is that true?" Ahk inquired.

“Of course, Majesty. A gentleman should never evade his mission of helping a lady in danger. ”Lance said willingly.

 But even if Lancelot was as kind as possible to him, Ahkmenrah used to be hateful in the sense of giving the medieval knight a "smile" of apology in the middle of turning around to withdraw from that room with his real and fine bearing, that no doubt such gestures made the young queen laugh ..

**** End of Flash ****

And when told by the pharaoh, Larempteh laughed, breaking into intermittent laughs..

"Hey, it's not funny, I thought so.." said Ahk with his cheeks dyed red.

“Oh Ahkmen, between Lance and me, nothing happens. I swear. ”Larem said trying to calm his laughter.

"Sure?" Ahk asked.

"Really, Ahk." Larem conveyed security.

  He could not resist his lovely and spontaneous smiles, it was impossible..

"Of course yes. Because you and he are friends. ”Ahkmen reached out, giving her the reason. "And we still are, right?"

"Of course." Larem gave him a sensible smile.

  They were not fooling anyone, they died for each other when their eyes met for seconds that were not uncomfortable, they felt a growing flame without tame within their anatomical foundations. They melted reciprocally and yet none took the first step firmly..

"What did you think of her?" Said Larry.

"She is very beautiful. A very attractive woman, I guess. ”Nick commented.

"But don't get your hopes up, Ahkmenrah laid his eyes on her first and you don't want to meet him angry." Larry said.

"The Pharaoh? His appearance is so peaceful, to be an Egyptian king that they were not well remembered for his sense of humor. ”Nick said.

“Yes, although the boy is different. The girl has a hypnotized Ahk. ”Larry commented.

“Now I remember when we were locked in his temple, his face was not the best when he claimed his tablet and we didn't have it, so he was quite rude when he asked his lackeys to throw the big block against the bars to escape. Yes, it's better not to wake that up on him and besides, I'm still with Andrea, forget it? ”Nick smiled calmly. “Hey dad, the above left me somewhat restless. Why did you ask her if she felt good? What happen?"

"I think something is affecting Larempteh and it's not exactly the table." Larry revealed and his son stopped his pace.

"You mean ..?" Said Nick.

"It's like an old spell dominates her." Larry said and Nick was thoughtful.

"Identical to what happened to Dex, Jed, Octavio and the others?" Nick inquired.

"So is. Only she is the only one affected. ”Larry confirmed.

"But if it's not the tablet, then what is it?" Nick looked restless.

“Larem mentioned a jewel that does not have it, although it may be in some of the museums in Cairo, if it is being exhibited as a historical piece. And I'm not sure, but I have a slight suspicion that if I am thinking about it, she needs us. ”Said Larry.

"You mean we'll have to travel to Egypt?" Nick asked, adjusting his backpack.

"I don't know if tomorrow or these days, but we have to do it and soon or otherwise, if we let a lot go by, the girl will be in danger and we have to help her or it will be too late." Larry said.

At one point Larempteh had lost so much wandering in her mind that she did not realize that she was in front of the main door of the museum, the girl did not notice anything strange or that seemed until she saw shadows moving outside the place ..

  Without feeling any threat, the girl left knowing that it was not convenient, but as it was still night there was no danger of immobilization or that she became dusty ..

 Or be surrounded by the army of the Egyptian queen with an unknown name, that was out of wave ..

"What's up?" Larempteh snapped with gracious spontaneity.

"Hello little sister, we didn't see each other for a long time." Her voice was jovial but the face of the younger queen was as if all possible emotions were transmitted in a single gesture, surprise, fear, in short, an excessive maelstrom. "Since 1106 BC, if I'm not mistaken .." that woman was as cynical as possible.

"Well, she's tall and dumb but she's not Kahmunrah." Larempteh deciphered herself detailing her relative.

"Do you remember me?" The queen smiled, revealing her precious teeth, showing off her incorruptible red lipstick, while Larem pretended to be thinking.

"As if it were possible to forget that horrendous outfit of yours, it is worthy of you, too dark for my liking ..." Larempteh said without further ado.

"I'll take that as a yes." Said that woman.

 Larempteh did not know what to do, it was a tragicomic scene before and after the attempt to turn slowly being stopped by the voice of one of the girls ..

"Quiet, Ladempteh." Ahesut demanded.

"Oh yeah. Except for the small detail that it is Larempteh, with ‘R.’ ”Larempteh corrected with obviousness.

"I said that, Ladempteh." Apparently, either Ahesut was skating the letter "R" or the name was not remembered.

“Okay, this got a little weird so good! I think we met again and introduced ourselves so I better go back inside, it was a pleasure. See you later, until another day or maybe another life. ”Larempteh turned around, holding a smile of commitment ready to enter, but not before being pointed more closely by sharp points of the other two girls' war spears. "On second thought, maybe I can stay a little longer ..." she smiled constipated.

How was it that they were still alive? Was it because of that mysterious glow that would cause the effect of life all night even with the figures far from its reach ..?

Inside the museum nobody suspected anything, and who would do it, no ..?

"Larempteh?" Ahkmen was looking for her in the Africa room and nothing. "Larempteh?" He went to the Dioramas room and didn't find her. "Larempteh?" He looked for her even in the Planetarium and not a trace. ‘Why did she disappear from nowhere?’ Pharaoh wondered. His doubts succumbed to see his friend Larry. Maybe he would know. “Larry, have you seen Larempteh? I can't find her, do you know anything? ”

"I was talking to her a little less than about 5 minutes ago." Larry confessed.

"Me too. I need to return this to her .. ”Ahkmen showed the beetle that he gave the girl with much affection. "I found him lying in my temple at the Egyptian exhibition." His tone was distressing.

“Hey, calm down, we'll find her, Ahk. Larem must not be far away, come, come with me. We're going to look for her .. ”said Larry when he prepared to go in search of the young woman being followed by the pharaoh.

We traveled a few moments to the Middle East, to the ancient and captivating Egypt that detonated a majestic night in the Necropolis while the stars shone giving the sky a beautiful blanket of light, where there is also one of the many most beautiful places that the country presents, the Great Egyptian Museum in Cairo, that in the deep bowels of the same, something was failing and it was there exactly that in an area restored based on the original architectural details where the royal family's wealth was found, this anomaly was happening. It was that gold bracelet with a blue stone, possessed by a spectrum of striking green that “decorated” the luxurious piece hung on the wall surrounded by hieroglyphs, manipulating its natural beauty and slowly leading it to deterioration..

Several distressing minutes passed for Ahk who took forever. That young man was crazy about the Egyptian ..

So some minutes passed, until ..

"Any trace?" Ahk asked.

"I walked from the Asia section to the Dioramas and there are no signs of Larem." Sacajewea said very worried.

“Let's keep looking. Maybe Larem is closer than we think. ”The guard ordered turning on the light switches.

"Larempteh!" Ahkmen exclaimed heading toward one of the stairs.

   He went back to the path he had previously traced, he passed through the hall of Egypt and his wish came true, she appeared from behind a column but she was with her sister and she was holding her curved sword in the neck of the beautiful girl when she became present in the museum ..

"Good evening," said the woman.

 The queen smiled taking elegant steps with her sister in front of her ..

"Larem ..!" Ahkmen exclaimed worriedly.

 Larry and the boys heard his voice from the lobby ..

"That was Ahk." Nick said encouraging the rest of the boys.

"Maybe he found Larem, come!" Said Larry.

 They went up and reached where the pharaoh was ..

"Ahk, were you lucky ..?" And Larry's voice went off watching the scene.

 The pharaoh tried to approach to get Larem out of those fibrous and elegant arms but not before being stopped by the woman ..

“Ah, ah! Do not touch. You know, Larem is changing my mood again and again and I'm not very animated when I get angry. ”The woman confessed.

 All the young woman's friends looked at the tall woman with little kindness towards her person ..

"Aha, and you are ..?" Ahk inquired plaintiff.

“I am Garumpteh. The great queen of the great queens and the deep darkness of the ancient underworld. I am an ancient Egyptian queen and was dead but now I have come back to life. Half goddess and that on dad's side. Great ruler of Egypt and future owner of everything else. ”Said Garumpteh who seems to have the goodness of a sharp blade and the mind of a girl of 10.

"Oh yeah? Good for you, welcome. You must be Larempteh's sister? She told me about you and it's funny because I know her, she described you perfectly. ”Ahkmenrah said with a faint flash of annoyance.

"Oh yeah? You know my little sister, the favorite daughter. ”Garumpteh mentioned with disgust and suspicion, taking Larem's face sharply.

"Yes, a great girl." Ahk added simply.

“Oh yes, beautiful. Mom and dad always gave her the best of everything and when I say the best of everything, I mean the best of everything, they even gave her the throne. The throne that was mine by right! ”Garumpteh claimed.

"She never mentioned it." Ahkmenrah said.

“For convenience, of course not. Well, now that doesn't matter because the Age of Garumpteh has begun. ”And the boy stared at her finding why his way of speaking sounded funny. Ahkmenrah couldn't help laughing just a little. "What is the grace if I can know?"

"It's just that you speak like one of the Royal Court of Ancient Egypt ..." Ahk continued his laugh, but that mood ceased when the three girls manipulated their sharp spears pointing at his neck. "Okay.." he whispered raising an eyebrow.

"You know, a little bird told me that you also have something very valuable." Garumpteh said and he frowned comically frightened.

"What do you mean? In what way? ”Ahk's voice was a whole comedy dish, sometimes it was badly thought.

From a fleeting movement, Garumpteh released his sister and approached him taking him from the face with one hand to support his khopesh on the neck ..

His friends got up in arms but nobody advanced, it was not convenient ..

“Your tablet.” Garumpteh whispered in the boy's ear when he had it with his back resting on his chest, the boy processed his story. "Because with it I will be able to open the doors of my triumphs."

"Gar, let go of him .." Larempteh spoke calmly but his sister did not give in.

"Give me what I want and in return I let him go to him .." Garumpteh demanded stretching his free hand when the girls advanced with their spears in the direction of the queen, they were as tall as their boss but no less than her sister.

“Oh, really? Are they your childhood friends? ”Larem laughed with fine mockery. “Come on girls, we all know that none of you is capable ..; you are the comic touch .. ”and the tips of the spears were inches from Larem's neck. "Very well, I shut up .." Larem said.

"The jewel, now .." the queen continued to engage more deeply her kopesh in the boy's neck without causing injuries, as a kind of threat if they did not attend to his whim.

“Come on, don't make it harder, sister. I already know that memory trick, you did the same when we were little, Garumpteh. I know you don't want to hurt him. ”Larempteh tried to negotiate since her eyes showed a pleading light.

"Give me the gift that mom and dad made for me if it's not too much to ask .." Garumpteh said.

"Gar, don't be childish." Larem wanted her to reason.

“Well, if there is no jewel. The table and the child safe. Not for nothing they told me: ‘Garumpteh, the trustworthy ..’ ”their play was misleading, maybe Garumpteh wanted to persuade them.

 After a long silence and with the solemnity worthy of an intelligent queen ..

“I propose something, Garum. I in exchange for him .. ”said Larempteh.

"Mm, I choose, to let go of the pharaoh who is indifferent to me so that my rival by direct blood will be trapped under the clutches of darkness and death?" Garumpteh was being cynically thinking.

"At one!" Larempteh exclaimed raising his index digit.

"Will there be any tricks here?" Garumpteh muttered.

"At two!" Larempteh exclaimed raising his middle finger.

“It's fine, it's fine, it's fine! You save him, he gets out, you stay .. ”said Garumpteh.

"It's a concrete deal but let it go to him, it's me who you want." Larempteh acknowledged negotiating with her to give up Ahk's position for her.

"If you insist .." Garumpteh released the boy who fell and quickly sat down, she repeated the scene with her little sister.

 It didn't take long for the girl to have that effect again, showing a state that even Ahkmenrah himself was impressed. The girl did not lose her beauty but she looked like a body worn by time, that trance disoriented her ..

"Larempteh .." Ahkmenrah looked at her and looked in her place, just like a mirror of her vivid image in her mind, where she saw herself as she was some time ago ..

"The tablet, now." Garumpteh demanded marking the outline of his black khopesh with details in golden hieroglyphs and bas-reliefs on his little sister's neck.

"You do what she says .." Larempteh pleaded looking at everyone a little scared.

 By prevention or perhaps by some divine sign of Ra, Ahkmenrah brought his tablet and seemed to be at a crossroads. He didn't know that tactic but how about this time they were doing the right thing for a good deed, save her. So slowly the king ..

"Oh, wise choice .." Garumpteh pretended surprise to see the tablet hovering inside the splendid layer of Ahk.

And that woman smiled with forced kindness at the positive condescension of the pharaoh but she never felt happy to have pleased her in good treatment or to recognize the impeccable affective generosity and good judgment of the king, Garumpteh was superior at all times and from what was understood , she only had that desire for herself, to fulfill her whims for her own benefit ..

"Very well, here's what you wanted, now release it to her .." Ahkmen feared for the life of the Egyptian.

 But the older queen took it from her hands and ran away with the girl ..

“And by the way! Nobody told me ‘Garumpteh the trustworthy!’ ”Garumpteh shouted through the halls and ran to get lost in the walls.

"Larempteh!" Ahkmenrah followed. The boy ran at incredible speed when his friends followed him.

Outside the museum, Garumpteh continued to hold the hostage girl, changed only to take her arm while she copied the run as she could ..

“Hey, it's not for nothing but you never questioned why our parents gave me the throne and you didn't? I mean, you're pretty dumb for me to think. ”Larempteh spoke between being cut off by the jog and stumbling over the length of the dress.

“That is what you believe, little plague. By the way, what are you really from Ahkmenrah? ”Garumpteh inquired, the more she had, the more invincible she felt.

"I'm just your friend, until there .." Larempteh said without further ado.

“I was so close, so close and I stumbled at the end, why ?! Because our young lady wanted to do the good one .. ”Garumpteh used an exaggerated feminine tone.

"Wasn't that what you wanted?" Larempteh asked.

“No, my plan was to get rid of both at the same time with a distraction in between in the second place, but since you mention it and now seeing it more clearly, I think my first instance worked better than I thought. You gave in for him. It's so romantic .. ”Garumpteh commented mockingly.

"Romantic?" Said Larempteh.

"You were always very cheesy and Egypt would not tolerate a pretentious girl again." Garumpteh said.

“Hey, the Age of the monarchy ended centuries ago, other laws are enacted today and millennia have passed. Get over it, don't you? ”Larempteh recommended but reasoning her sister was a titanic task.

“No, I refuse to accept it. So as part of the plan, you will come with me. ”Garumpteh said and without hesitation she loaded the girl with a war chariot with two steeds. "Attend the girl and make sure she doesn't escape." The queen ordered and step by step at the same time the three girls climbed into the archaic vehicle.

Al Capone and Napoleon fulfilled the order of their leader although it was difficult since the Egyptian did not stop moving and the war chariot did not help much due to the galloping of the horses ..

“‘S'il vous plait ’(‘ Please ’), madame. You will not want to fall and suffer a blow, will you? ”Said Napoleon with his French accent trying to hold her.

"Any method is better than being with you, ruffians." Larempteh mentioned something unfriendly running her hair with head movements. “Hey, wait a minute, I know you. You are the idiot with bonsai attire that I saw in the New York museum. ”The girl deduced recognizing him in more detail.

“No, mona mi. You must be confused, mademoizelle. ”Said Napoleon refusing for obvious circumstances.

"Now I have an excellent memory, dwarf." Larempteh argued.

Ahkmenrah along with his friends could see everything once outside the establishment ..

"There they go!" Sacajawea alerted.

The cars were speeding but the echo of the young woman was heard at a great distance ..

“Ahkmenrah! Help me! ”Larempteh shouted and she seemed to see everything in slow motion.

"Teddy, you're the best to solve a crisis," said Larry.

"There's nothing to worry about, Lawrence Daley." Teddy spoke with his loyal solemnity of a good thinker.

"How will we find her now?" Ahkmenrah asked very worried.

“I didn't do the Panama Canal in one day, boy. Lawrence, we don't want to be left behind, the little girl's survival is in danger. What is the plan of attack? ”Said Teddy.

"But .." Ahkmen thought his answer was going to be answered by him.

"Okay, we must get Larem back wherever his premeditated place of abduction has been now and then take her with her dad to Egypt so he can repair what happens to her .." Larry said and everyone was confused. "She is suffering the same consequence that you went through, Ahk." Larry revealed and Ahkmen opened his eyes in fright.

"But how?" Ahkmen couldn't understand how she would hide something of that magnitude.

"Does it affect us, my lord?" Octavio asked.

"Will there be strange behaviors in the future, Larry?" Sacajewea asked.

"Only what you just saw and I can't say anything, guys, but it's as if a horrible curse dominated her .." Larry argued.

And Ahkmenrah thought and thought, until the focus went on. Bingo! He put his index fingers in his mouth to call the tyrannosaurus rex with a squeak next to the triceratop, and Rexy came running next to Trixy, both responding to the call of the pharaoh ..

"Good guys." Ahkmen climbed on the back of it while Lancelot repeated his movements being on top of Trixy. “ ‘eelaa alhamaal!’ (‘Charge!’) ”Shouted Ahkmenrah.

And with all the boys in the museum together with Larry they went out in search of Larempteh's rescue..

* * * *

Tags: @underworldsheiress @txmel @xmxisxforxmaybe @moon-stars-soul @singyourheartout4-rami @sherlollydramoine @mrsahkmenrah-malek @yousaycoke-isaycaine @eschnei7

#ahkmenrah #rami malek #night at the museum #NATM

[iamapoopmuffin]

Victims With Numbers

Fandom: Nanbaka/Corpse Party (crossover) Genre: Horror Characters: Hajime Sugoroku, Samon Gokuu, Kiji Mitsuba, Kenshirou Yozakura, Jyugo, Uno, Nico, Rock, Tsukumo, Liang, Upa, Qi, Honey, Trois, Musashi, Sachiko Shinozaki, Ryou Yoshizawa, Yuki Kanno, Tokiko Tsuji, Yoshikazu Yanagihori, Yoshie Shinozaki, Takamine Yanagihori, some OCs to take the role of Kizami later on instead of actual Kizami Includes major character death.

Chapter 14 of ?

Liang and Keiko had found their way back to the bathroom. The one taped shut with the charms that seared flesh. There had been no further sign of the ghost child, nor of the spirit that had saved Liang before. It truly seemed as if it were just the two of them in that building, though he was sure he could hear footsteps now and then. They'd found little to do, beyond circling the building a few times, trying to find something that might be of use. A way to open the main doors, a clue to where the others may have gone, just anything. At first, the only new thing Liang could note was that someone had scrawled over a flyer stuck to the wall. Before, the flyer had been uninteresting. A bake sale advertisement from before Heavenly Host closed its gates. When they passed the flyer for maybe the third time, it had blood on it. Not in splatters or drops either, no spray or lean. It hadn't just gotten there by mistake. No no, something was written there, scrawled in sloppy and shaky Chinese. Smeared in unsteady blood letters with several jittery mistakes, parts of the lettering reversed, trails where the writer's hand weakened and fell from the paper, and points where the letters went over the edge of the paper and onto the wall instead.

ART ROOM

FR

    IE

        ND

2 1 7 1 4

       111111111KNIIIIIII

DO   T  R S   H  OL E    R TH  

H E L P

It was most likely from the spirit from before. A message to someone, to tell them to meet in the art classroom, just as the spirit had told him verbally, as well as something indeterminable.

Perhaps this message was written for the lost little girl to find.

Perhaps there was someone else here he was supposed to meet with.

Perhaps it was something the man wrote before he died, and the message was never even meant for Liang.

But that begged the question of how many people would actually be here expecting to communicate with their friends in Chinese. From what he could tell, the majority of people trapped here were from Japan, which made sense. The building itself had been Japanese, and the story, the legend of the school and of the deaths was one circulated in Japan. So it must have been meant at the very least for a Chinese speaker. The next question was what did the numbers mean? If the writer was from Nanba, it made sense for him to signal to specific people with numbers, but the numbers used didn't specify any of the inmates, except for maybe Qi and himself. More than anything, that was unnerving. The jumble of 1's and unfinished hanzi only complicated the message further. Something the spirit, possibly, tried to write with the last of his strength, making it an important message, but one that he could not fully tell.

Shortly after this, Keiko's sharp eye had spotted something in one of the cabinets in the art classroom that Liang had overlooked. Beneath a needle-like implement sat a white board, a thin rectangle with writing on it. A charm. If he remembered correctly, there had been similar charms around the temple where he'd grown up. It was Keiko's opinion that the charm might counteract the ones on the bathroom door, and Liang, knowing that if done correctly such things indeed had the potential for great power, had agreed to retrieve it from the cabinet. The door was locked, but unlike the front door, this one could be broken or forced. They just needed something to help them cause a little extra damage. Some of the works of art around the room would have been enough to do the trick - the room still held works from when the room was in use. Children's paintings on the easels, clay and papier-mâché models and chalk doodles stacked in the corner. Some of these items were perfectly innocent creations made by children of the past, including the odd picture or piece that looked very phallic but was undoubtedly just a clumsy drawing of a fruit bowl or animal. Other pieces matched the dark atmosphere of the school. A painting of a person hanging by their neck. A piece of paper with a red scribble and the caption 'man went splat'. A model of a child's hand with what was undeniably blood staining the fingers. Depictions of pain and fear, some in far too much detail to be the work of a child. In the end, Liang had picked up one of the clay models, judging by the scoring a cactus, and used it to break the glass of the cabinet. Taking care not to cut himself, he lifted the charm from its place. There was a genuine power within it, he could feel it.

Which was why they'd chosen to return to the bathroom, charm in hand. No discussion, but no certainty. Liang carefully laid the charm before the doors before stepping back, one arm held out to the side to keep Keiko away from any potential danger ahead of them. At first, it seemed as if nothing was happening, and then he felt the heat. It came off the charm in waves, banishing the icy cold of the abandoned school. It quickly got warm enough that the two of them began to sweat. When the first of the warding spells on the door caught fire, Liang pulled Keiko back a few more steps and held a hand up for some degree of protection. By the time all the spells were alight, the fire burned too bright to look at.

"The school's gonna burn down!" Keiko squeaked in terror. "We can't get out! We're gonna die, we're gonna-!" She cut off and went into wordless screaming as Liang pulled her back even further, stepping in front of her to block her from the flames. He felt the heat against his back threaten to burn any skin it could find. He dared a glance back, to see how the fire was spreading, and was surprised to see that the fire seemed to not so much as skim the wood of the door. It burned away the paper spells, turning them to ash, and then sputtered out, taking all the heat with it at once.

Slowly, he turned to the door and took Keiko's hand, leading her forward as she, realising the heat was gone, opened her eyes and tried to calm herself down. He didn't look at her, but he could tell she was in tears and very, very afraid. When he reached out to the door, he found the handle was cool, as if it hadn't been exposed to the fire at all. The door slid open now without hesitation, and Liang stepped into the boys' bathroom.

The bathroom was in a better state than those he had seen before, at least. There were about five stalls, as in the girls' bathroom in the main building, but all of them were locked. From the top of the stalls, he could see ropes coming up and leading to some point along the high ceiling. He wasn't sure the ceiling was meant to be that high. A few urinals stood at a low height, blocked and flooded, but not broken. Usable. Between the urinals and the stalls, a young man with purple hair was curled up in foetal position, entire body tense and very, very still. From where he stood, Liang wasn't entirely sure if the young man was still alive or not. He was either petrified in fear in the truest sense of the phrase, or he was freshly deceased and entering a state of rigor mortis.

"Motomu?"

Liang looked to Keiko as she shuffled into the room. Her eyes were fixed on the purple-haired boy on the floor, who looked up in response to his name, his movements stiff and almost unnatural.

"K-...Kei-chan..." The boy, Motomu, got to his feet, and Keiko ran to him, sobbing. The two embraced, and Liang watched them, a smile on his face. At the very least, he could be happy they'd been reunited. He decided to hang back, let them have their moment for now, and tried not to listen to their conversation. They were fairly loud, though, and it was rather awkward.

"I was so scared, big brother!"

"I know. I'm sorry. But it's okay, Kei-chan. I won't leave you again for as long as you live. I won't let the ghosts here hurt you."

"Yui...Yui was-"

"I know. Makishi too. I saw them both. I bet it was that ghost girl holding the scissors. But I saw someone hurt someone else from their own school..." The elder brother took something from his back pocket and held it out behind Keiko's back, shifting his grip to angle the object slightly. "But don't worry. Big brother will take care of everything."

In a moment, Keiko was thrown to the floor, and Motomu pinned, his arm held high over his back. Liang's knee was digging into the boy's spine, keeping him down, and he had a vice-like grip on Motomu's wrist. In the boy's hand was a knife. By the looks of it, it was new, and a professional hunting knife, but had been used and hastily wiped clean. A faint smear of red still stained the surface. From where Liang had been standing, he'd seen, from the corner of his eye, Motomu preparing to plunge the knife into his sister's neck. A quick twist of the wrist, and the boy released the knife, allowing the inmate to kick it across the room.

"B...big brother?" Keiko managed from her place on the floor, staring at the boys in shock, tears forming in her eyes already. Liang's focus, of course, was on her attacker.

"You were going to attack your own sister?!"

Motomu, to his credit, completely ignored him. "Keiko! What's wrong with you? You just went off with a stranger? I get you were scared, but you don't know this guy! He could have hurt you! Look at him, look at this place! Look at what happened to Yui. For all you know, he could have done that."

"Care to explain why you're armed, and why you're turning your weapons on us?"

"Have you seen the corpses, genius?"

Fair point, at least for the first question. "Where did you get the knife from? Why did you attack your sister?"

Motomu twisted in his grip, trying to look him in the eye. "Why did you go to prison?"

The atmosphere seemed to drop even further. The suffocating darkness wrapped around the three of them, and Liang could sense the murderous intent beneath him increase.

"Motomu. We need to work together to find a way out of this place. We can't turn on each other. Every second we're here, we're in extreme danger. We need to know you don't add to that danger. Why did you point the knife at Keiko?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"You've barely answered any of mine."

"We can't get out of here."

"You've given up?"

"Not exactly."

"But you've turned to hurting others."

"You're no saint."

"What is wrong with you?"

Motomu twisted a little, trying to look Liang in the eye. There was something about the look in his eye that seemed very wrong. Something in there was cold, and dark, and tinged with insanity. He dropped his voice low, likely so his sister would not hear his next words. "Let me tell you this much, all you need to know. The spirits here are killing people, and those people are desperate to survive. But they can't. The ghosts will kill them, or they'll suffer some accident, or starve or dehydrate or sicken, or someone else will kill them. Someone like me, or maybe someone like you, right, Mr Criminal? Because I can see it in your face, you're no stranger to the stench of blood and rot, are you? You're not as disturbed as all the poor, innocent kids who come in here and die in some horrible, tragic way. And this place? It can twist your mind, poison your thoughts and make you want to kill. Not me, though, so don't worry.

"I've just always hated those people. Fake smiles. Platitudes. Pretence. Doesn't it all just make you so angry? But there's so many rules out there, rules that fall apart once you're in here. You can do whatever you want. Go crazy. Let loose all those nasty little thoughts and feelings. You don't have to serve your time or repent for anything you did wrong in the past. No prison, no punishment, just the freedom to suffer and cause suffering until your last breath."

Liang inhaled sharply, a thought coming to him during Motomu's words. "Those people you mentioned, the ones who had been killed...Yui and Makishi...did you do something to them?"

"It doesn't matter if you're killed by the ghosts or killed by me. Either way, you die."

#Damn Kizami substitutes #I have so much more planned that this is gonna go to over 20 chapters and I hate it #after they all get together again? God knows #that's all up in the air #shorter chapter because I'm full of rage #and this is hard to write still #I had to delete and rewrite so much my dudes #I'm very tired

[coffeecreamerwriting]

Not SFW headcanons: Edgar Bright

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He immediately, immediately, after you both are done, goes and nuzzles his face into your neck. He just breathes in your scent and holds you close. An “I love you” might slip out but he enjoys holding you and letting you know how much you mean to him. 

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your hands, he thinks they’re beautiful and magical and the way they wrap around him makes them look like a work of art. There have even been moments during dinner when he was staring at your hands so intently that he got hard.

He likes his smile. Not an exact body part but he keeps his teeth shiny and white and his smile says everything you need to know about him. 

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He likes to cum on your chest. He produces quite a lot of it but it’s a very thin consistency, which in his eyes is absolutely perfect for marking your chest with. The way that the cum contrasts with the parts of your chest that aren’t covered and the parts that are only covered with a sheen layer drives him wild and makes him want to go another round. 

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves you in lingerie but he did try on one of your lingerie sets one time and he has to say he pulled it off. You were in enthusiastic agreement with his opinion. 

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s decently experienced, has had a quite average number of partners for someone of his age. He knows what he’s doing but it’s more intuition based than because he’s been around the block. 

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

He likes missionary of all things. He’s addicted to the expressions you make during sex and missionary allows him for the best view. 

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He’s sort of playful. He is very, very, very big on teasing and sometimes he likes to joke around when teasing you. He knows he’s riling you up and when you get really desperate for him to finally do something, he finds it so cute he laughs. He likes to pretend he doesn’t know the affect he has on you. 

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

His hair is a bit more of a darker brown than the hair on his head. It’s trimmed neatly but sometimes he can get lazy a little and forgets to trim it. 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

He doesn’t try to make it super romantic (he saves that for the afterglow). Romance is for romance and sex is for sex. That doesn’t mean he is all about the wham bam thank you m’am but he isn’t going to be sprinkling rose petals on the bed and lighting scented candles every night. 

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He does it but not often, roughly around twice a week. He’s ok with waiting for actual sex to happen. When it comes to jacking off his heart really isn’t in it. 

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He adores how you look in lingerie, especially in white lingerie. It ties into another one of his kinks; your innocence. He’s fascinated by your innocence and how he wants to find ways to ruin it completely. 

He is also an expert dirty talker and sweet talker. The words he tells you in bed can have you go from blushing bright red at the

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He likes to have sex outdoors. Not necessarily in public (although he doesn’t mind that much either) but late at night when everyone else is cooped up in bed, he likes to take you outside in the moonlight and see your body naked bathed in the moonlight and the stars. 

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Your body. Edgar loves your mind and how you think but he is also very much a physical creature. Every shape and curve of your body drives him wild, he loves seeing you naked and wet coming out of a bath or when it’s too too hot and you wear as little as possible without being naked to the entire Red Territory. 

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

His biggest turn off is using toys on himself. He has no interest in you doing to him what he does to you. His hard no is choking. He hates the thought of choking you and seeing you struggle to breath. Choking goes too far for him. 

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He prefers to give. He’s specializes in it, if you were to run a test he would have the top marks among members of the Red Army. It ties into how much he loves teasing you. He likes to take his time and bite your thighs and never give you what you really want until you’re absolutely begging for it and even then it depends on how he’s feeling in the moment. 

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He goes slow, you swear up and down it’s just for him to tease you more. Every movement that he makes is highly calculated. 

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He LOVES quickies, it even goes to as far as to say that he prefers quickies over proper sex. Not by much, but if you give him the choice he’s choosing the quickie. At least one of the times you have sex in a week needs to be a quickie. He loves them that much. 

He’s in love with how raw everything is in the moment. He believes that quickies reveal what you and your partner really want in the moment and what you and your partner really need to be able to enjoy having sex. When you don’t have time for much the things that you do to, need to be what you absolutely cannot go without. 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Depends on what you mean by risk, he refuses to take any risks on anything that has a chance of creating life. He does, however, like to take risks when it comes to the toys he buys for you. He wants to make sure that those are well used and loved. He even took a risk and put his rope tying skills to the test once. 

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He can only go for one round at a time but that one round lasts a long while. He has good stamina and patience and enjoys stretching out the time you two have together as much as he can. 

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He has toys. For you. He makes it very clear that the toys he has are for you and you only. Do not even think about using a toy on him, it doesn’t matter which toy he will refuse. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

King of teasing. You swear he likes teasing you more than he likes actually having sex with you. He loves seeing you embarrassed by the things he says he wants to do to you while you two are out running errands in broad daylight.

  V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Incredibly loud. You were taken aback by how loud he actually was the first time you two had sex. Zero might be the one going to the Land of Reason the next full moon. Rumour has it that Kyle already went and just shows up when he needs to collect his paycheck. No one in the Red Territory has been able to sleep properly since you entered Edgar’s life. 

He’s a screamer, sometimes a very loud moaner at the start and when he cums but in between he screams out. 

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He refuses to have sex when the Creek family is nearby. You could be doing everything in your power to seduce him and be wearing his favourite lingerie but if the Creek family is anywhere close to being near he refuses to do anything more than light kissing and hand holding with you. 

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

5.5 inches/14 cm. He’s a grower not a shower, although not to the dramatic extent of some others. He has a very pronounced veins all around it that he feels adds to his appeal. The head is the prettiest, lightest, and brightest pink you have ever seen. 

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Not very high. Among the lowest within the Red army. Once you start getting past three times a week he feels like it’s way too much and that some of the excitement of the encounter is taken away.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t fall asleep too quickly. He’s not one for long talks in the afterglow or whispering sweet nothings. He prefers to hold you close in silence and brush his fingers against your skin until you both fall asleep. 

#edgar bright #edgar bright headcanons #ikerev headcanons #ikemen revolution #please beat me up for the pun i tried to make with the jack of hearts #lemon

[onemuseleft]

Steve/Tony, number 19 for the AU meme!

When Steve gets there the classroom is mostly empty. “You’re the second wave,” a cheerful young woman in a rainbow plaid shirt tells him. She has a clipboard. “Parents A-M have left already and we’re starting on the back end of the alphabet now. Grab a seat, have some coffee. There’s crackers and stuff if you get hungry. And feel free to look around the classroom if you like. We had the kids decorate so you could see some of what they’ve been working on.”

He’d left Jamie in the gym where a handful of harassed looking teachers were trying to get a hundred kids under the age of six to play dodgeball by the rules. The odds hadn’t looked to be in their favor when Steve left. 

The classroom is bright and cheery with artwork on the walls and shelves full of storybooks and art supplies. There’s a corner in the back of the room with a throw rug and a bunch of pillows, and lots and lots of toys. Steve’s been in the room before but it had been over the summer when Dr. Foster was still getting her classroom set up. This was the first time he was getting the full impact of it and it hit him, hard, like a punch to the sternum that Jamie was going to school here, that his kid was getting the chance Steve hadn’t.

He’d gotten lucky. Natasha had found out about the Maria Stark Foundation from a friend of hers who worked at Stark Tower as an admin, and the friend had managed to get the application directly to the head of the program. Steve had had to pay application fees and for Jamie’s school uniforms, but Jamie’s tuition was guaranteed through fourth grade.

And now his kid went to school in a warm, dry, clean building full of toys and staffed with men and women who were at the top of their field.

It wouldn’t solve all their problems, but Steve knew how the world worked. Hard work counted for a lot but connections counted for a lot more. It was cheating, and for himself Steve railed against it, but all bets were off for his kid’s education. 

He walked through the classroom slowly, running his fingers over the shiny covers of the picture books on the shelves, and feeling vaguely like a giant next to the tiny chairs and low tables. 

The back wall was a huge corkboard covered in artwork. Crayon, pencil, markers, watercolors. Steve’s eye was drawn to it instantly and he gave up resisting the urge to investigate. There were literally dozens of drawings, arranged in bundles of five or six, all by the same kid. Steve saw a bunch of flower pictures by a girl named Suzie and lots of pictures of houses and families and things that were either horses or dogs (or very large mice, Steve couldn’t tell). 

There was a surprisingly good drawing of a bright red robot fighting a dinosaur and Steve traced his fingers over the bright red and orange fire the dinosaur was shooting out of its mouth (dragon?) with a strange sense of wistfulness. As a kid, having access to art supplies like that would have been… heaven. 

Oh, he didn’t regret joining the Army or anything that came after, but part of him had always wished he hadn’t had to give up on art, that he’d had the supplies and the training and the talent to pursue it further than as a hobby.

There are a few other drawings, all in colored pencil. The same robot versus unicorn, robot versus a tank, robot versus a clown and robot versus something Steve couldn’t for the life of him identify that looked like… one of those adjustable desk lamps maybe? He looked at it a little closer and that was when he noticed the child’s name.

Jamie.

Steve almost felt like his heart was skipping a beat. He’d never known Jamie liked to draw? Or that he could draw so well - it’s obviously the work of a kindergartner but there’s a real sense of perspective and dimension, a bit of natural talent mixed in with the robot enthusiasm.

He was excited, honestly. This was something he knew about, he could really share this with Jamie. He was already planning a trip to Michael’s on the way home, to stock up on supplies: paper, sketchpads, maybe some charcoals and pastels. Did they make child-sized easels? They must somewhere, he could look on Amazon when they got home. And Crayola of course, one of everything so Jamie could experiment and get a feel for his favorite medium.

“Thank god for trust funds, huh?”

Steve started, so absorbed in his planning that he hadn’t even noticed the other man come up beside him. “Sorry?”

The man smiled. He was handsome, in a way Steve couldn’t help but appreciate. Steve’s height, give or take an inch, with very dark, wavy hair that turned to curls at the very end and was stylishly disheveled. His eyes were a vivid shade of blue and his features were just a little too sharp to be really classic. His mouth was pulled into a sideways smirk - more amused than sarcastic, Steve thought, though the goatee gave him a bit of a devilish look to him. He was wearing a black t-shirt under a worn blue flannel and a pair of jeans that looked like they’d been designer before someone spilled motor oil on them. They were worn at the cuffs and thin around the thighs and knees, worn in. 

The guy crossed his arms and the material pulled tight across his shoulders and biceps. Also this guy had a gym membership somewhere. Steve blinked and dragged his eyes back up to the guy’s face.

“I hear the whole starving artist thing isn’t as sexy as they make it look on TV,” the guy said. He studied Jamie’s drawings. “I mean, okay, it’s early years yet, the kid might have a knack for something more marketable down the line. But this screams “future comic book artist” to me, so probably better to just start saving now, right?”

“What’s wrong with being a comic book artist?” Steve snapped. He took a step forward, partially blocking the guy’s view of the pictures. His heart was beating fast, and he could feel anger surging through his spine. Who the hell did this guy think he was? Who thought it was okay to talk shit about someone else’s kid’s (any kid’s) artwork? “If Jamie wants to draw comic books when he grows up that’s fine. The world needs more art in it and I’d rather have my kid grow up and actually create something in this world than be marketable off the backs of other people’s work.”

The guy gave him a sideways look. “She.”

Steve stopped short of his next sentence - he’s not sure, actually, what it was going to be but he’s probably perilously close to saying something that’s going to start a real fight. “What?”

“Jamie,” the guy says. He doesn’t look mad. A little bemused maybe. “Jamie’s a girl. And you’re right, if she wants to draw comic books when she grows up, that’s fine. I was trying to joke and obviously failed. Sorry. I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess you’re an artist?”

“I’m a cop,” Steve said. “Jamie’s a boy.”

The guy lifted one perfectly shaped brow. “Um.”

“Jamie’s dad!”

The cheerful teacher’s assistant was standing in the doorway of the classroom with her clipboard. She beamed in their general direction. “We’re ready for you!”

Steve nodded and stepped forward.

And so did the handsome guy.

“What-” Steve started to ask, but the teacher’s assistant cut him off. 

“Sorry! Sorry! We’re going alphabetically today, Mr. Stark. Jamie Rogers’ dad is up first.”

The guy - Stark, gestured for Steve to proceed. “No problem, Darcy. I didn’t realize there were two Jamies this year.”

Steve felt his stomach drop and almost closed his eyes in embarrassment. Oh no.

She grinned and rolled her eyes at him, obviously long-acquainted. “Oh, the terror twins. We can’t let them sit next to each other anymore, you know. They just team up against all the other kids and rule the classroom like tiny despots. It’s super cute, though, I have video. I’ll show you after.”

“It’s been less than a month!” Stark said. “How much terror could they really have wreaked?”

Darcy stuck her tongue out at him. “I was there for pre-K, Tony. Your kid convinced the entire class that we were all going to die in a black hole when they turned on the Large Hadron Collider last year. We had to send home notes. And half the parents didn’t even know what the Large Hadron Collider was and thought we’d let their kids see porn. Dr. Banner turned so red I thought his head was going to explode.”

Tony was grinning, clearly proud. “Embarrassed or angry at their shameless lack of basic knowledge of scientific and current events?”

“You know which one,” Darcy said. “Go away and stop distracting me. Mr. Rogers, come this way, Dr. Foster is ready for you.”

Tony was already turning away, attention back on the wall of art and studying Jamie’s - the wrong Jamie, Steve realized with a little pang of disappointment and more than a little embarrassment - artwork again. Steve wasn’t quite sure how to apologize for the misunderstanding and Darcy is waiting, so he went off to meet Dr. Foster. 

She was wonderful - bright and pleasant, but very serious as they discussed Jamie’s progress. He was already spelling words - Steve had been reading to him and working on the alphabet at home, so he was pleased to see that he was ahead of the class there - and he was good with numbers and other basic skills. “He doesn’t like nap time though,” Dr Foster said with a smile. “He likes to get up while the other children are asleep and play with the ball.” 

She gave him some materials to read and a progress report more complicated than some of the arrest reports Steve had to fill out at work, then presented him a folder full of Jamie’s schoolwork - and there were a few drawings in there, Steve saw, but nothing like the ones on the wall. Steve studied them; a firetruck, a football, a picture of Steve, Bucky, Natasha and Jamie standing next to Natasha’s F1 car from last season.

Steve decided he rather liked these even better than the robot drawings.

Afterwards, he lingered in the classroom for a while longer, waiting until Dr. Foster was done with “Jamie S’s dad!” 

“Sorry about earlier,” he blurted out as soon as Tony came back into the room. “I thought the drawings were by my Jamie and I got defensive.” 

“Hey, no worries.” Tony looked pretty laid back, but Steve thought he saw some tension seep out of his posture. “I totally get the mix-up. It’s my fault anyway - next time I’ll introduce myself before I go straight to roasting the five-year-old.”

“That’s… probably a good idea.”

Tony grinned. “I’m completely cool with the art thing, on the record. She wants to be President when she grows up, so honestly, starving comic book artist is a step up. I was just trying to break the ice because you’re the only other parent here who didn’t look like the came straight from the country club in Stepford, if you catch me.”

“Well, that’s probably because they wouldn’t let me in the country club, most likely.” Steve offered Tony his hand. “Steve Rogers, former US Army, currently Detective 3rd Grade with the NYPD. Jamie and I are here thanks to the Maria Stark Foundation.”

Tony grabbed his hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “Oh hey, I remember you! You’re Natasha’s friend.”

“You know Natasha?” Steve blinked. “Wait, you’re that Tony Stark. I can’t believe I didn’t realize.” He gave Tony a second once-over, taking in the grease under his nails and the old, worn clothes, then comparing them to the wildly expensive watch and leather motorcycle boots. So that was what a billionaire looked like when he was dressed casual, who knew?

Tony shrugged. “I’m told the camera adds ten pounds, fifteen years and at least six tons of sleazebag. And yeah, Natasha’s one of my favorite test drivers. She’s been driving prototypes into the ground for me since she wrecked her ankle and had to quit the ballet. How do you know her? She never said.”

“She married my best friend.”

Tony gave him a look that could best be described as delighted. “You’re Bucky’s roommate? Man, why weren’t you at the wedding?”

Steve sighed. “Getting drunk married on some random guy’s back porch at four in the morning five days after you meet is not a wedding. Oh my god, you were the guy in the bathrobe in the cell phone video weren’t you? You performed the ceremony!”

“I love weddings,” Tony said with relish. “But yeah, we were all super wasted. I still don’t remember how we got back here from Monte Carlo.”

“Daddy!”

Steve turned to face the door, aware of Tony doing the same beside him. The voice had been a girl’s, and there was a tiny little slip of a girl standing in the doorway. She had long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, light brown skin and the same bright blue eyes as her father.  She was wearing a purple t-shirt with a unicorn on it, a bright blue tutu, and leggings with a universe pattern on on them. She also had a pair of costume bat wings strapped to her back and was wearing several plastic bead necklaces. “Daddy, you can do weddings?”

Steve’s own Jamie was standing right behind her. He was wearing the same jeans and red t-shirt he’d been wearing earlier, but had at some point acquired a top hat and a cape. “I thought you two were supposed to stay in the gym?”

“Dodgeball is stupid,” not-his-Jamie declared. Jamie nodded in agreement, though Steve knew for a fact that Jamie loved playing Dodgeball. “We’re gonna get married instead but Modi and Magni said we had to get a priest if we wanted to get married for real.”

“Why are you getting married?” Tony asked. 

“Cause you’re supposed to marry your best friend,” his daughter replied in a tone that indicated she felt her father should have known that without having to ask. “Uncle Rhodey said so when he and Aunt Carol got married. And Jamie’s my best friend now plus our names match so we hafta.”

“Sound logic,” Tony said. “But I refuse to pay for your wedding until you have at least one college degree.”

“How long does college take?” she asked, eyes narrowed.

“For you? Two years. But you have to graduate from kindergarten first.”

She sighed heavily. “Fine. But someone’s gotta get married, we already decorated the book nook to make it the church and promised Thrud she could be the flower girl.”

“Why don’t you just marry Thrud?” Tony asked. 

“I don’t want to be related to Magni and Modi,” his daughter said.

“That’s fair,” Tony said. He leaned in close to Steve. “Imagine a six-year-old frat boy who’s basically a nice guy but has no volume control and  unlimited energy. Then give him an identical twin.”

“Smart girl,” Steve said. 

“You guys can get married instead,” Jamie said. He had his hands jammed in his pockets. “I want to see a wedding, I didn’t get invited to Uncle Bucky’s.”

“You were two,” Steve said, “you wouldn’t remember it even if you had gone.”

“Pleeeeease?” Jamie said. Not-his-Jamie turned on her father with a wide-eyed look that would have gotten an entire pound full of puppies adopted. 

Tony turned to Steve with a raised eyebrow. “Well, what do you say? Wanna go get hitched by a bunch of ankle-biters?”

Steve studied him for a moment. He looked relaxed and happy. His Jamie was standing on his feet and tugging on his shirt as she bounced up and down and he wasn’t trying to get her off his expensive shoes. He’d taken the whole misunderstanding thing earlier with a sense of humor and he hadn’t cared at all that Steve was there on charity, unlike the few other parents Steve had met that year.

Plus, he was still damned handsome.

“Sure, what the hell, I always wanted to get married.” Steve leaned down to pick Jamie up and sit him on his hip. “But you have to let me buy you guys ice cream afterwards.”

Tony gave him a slow smile. “First date after the wedding, huh? I knew I was going to like you.”

#stony #stevetony #my fic #nightwalker writes #amaronith

[davidcarner]

Hotel California Ch 4, Such A Lovely Place

A/N: First, Dillwg, this is a day early, I hope that's okay.  Second, AngelGurl0 and Zettel, thank you SO much.  AngelGurl0 helps me while I type it, Zettel grabs it on the back end.  Double betaed.  And finally Steampunk . Chuckster had me betaing and bounced things off of me all through Thin Ice, and well.  It's affected me some.  We aren't saucy yet, but we're turning up the heat.  This one...hehehe...Its's still fun!  I do how you enjoy Welcome to Hotel California Ch 4, Such a Lovely Place

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck, and for the record, we never broke up, we just took a 14-year vacation. (If you don't know that line, Google it)

"Dear God, he tried to fix it," Chuck muttered, shaking his head, pouring through the code. Chuck had gotten to work early, barely able to sleep last night, and when he did the dreams he had were…confusing. His dreams were filled of one Sarah Walker, and he was more than a little disturbed by them. They were full of her crying, saying he didn't like her. His heart was crushed by that. He needed her to know that he did like her. He had never actually cleared that up last night, but maybe he did by saying they were friends. He rolled his head across his shoulders, trying to get relief for his shoulders. He found himself thinking back to last night.

They had stayed at the restaurant for a few hours, just talking. Chuck felt all the weight of the world off of his shoulders having finished his finals. He joked with Carina, and even a little with Sarah as the night wore on. She had pulled her phone out to do something when he got to courage to just ask.

"What are you doing?" he asked her.

"Getting a ride home. Do you use Uber or Lyft?"

"Nonsense, I'll take you" She gave him a look. "Unless you'd rather I didn't know where you live because you don't want random weird guys knowing that, although I'm not random and I really don't think I'm weird."

"Chuck, spiraling," Carina said, grinning. Chuck looked at her and nodded. He turned back to Sarah who had an amused grin on her face.

"I promise I'm not a physical threat," Chuck said. Sarah and Carina both chuckled.

"What?" Chuck asked.

"Sarah is going to be awarded the 2nd degree black belt in a few months in jujitsu," Carina said. Chuck turned to look at Sarah. She nodded. "In other words, Chuck, she could kick your ass." Sarah shrugged.

"Noted," he said.

"It's wild," Carina said. "She has to face off against others."

"I'd love to see it," Chuck said, and then realized what he had done. "Not that I'm over here asking for an invite or anything," he paused as Sarah laid a hand on his arm.

"Do you always spiral like that when you get nervous?" Sarah asked grinning.

"Yep," Carina said. "He never spirals around me." She sighed heavily. "You wound me, Curls, you wound me."

"You'll live," Chuck deadpanned. Sarah laughed out loud at the two. Chuck turned back to her. "So, may I give you a ride home."

"Oooo," Carina said. "So proper, he never says anything like that to me."

"Because you'll turn it into can I ride you home," Sarah retorted. Carina shrugged. "You don't have to, Chuck, but I would appreciate it."

"All right, let's beat feet then," he said. Beat feet? What was next, a groovy beatnik had a fab night? What time warp had he caught himself in?

"Chuck, you were born in the 1980s, right?" Carina asked.

"Leave him alone, Carina," Sarah said, surprising both Chuck and Carina. "He's an old soul, and I like him just the way he is." Chuck turned to Carina, and very maturely, stuck his tongue out.

"Do it again and see what I do with it," Carina said. Chuck quickly pulled his tongue back in, and walked Sarah to the car. She told him where she lived, and he drove her.

"I just live a couple of blocks away," Chuck said. "I'm at Echo Park."

"At your bachelor pad?" Sarah asked. Chuck went quiet.

"No with my sister and her husband," Chuck said softly.

"Hey, I'm not judging," she said. He nodded.

"It was hard to find a job after getting kicked out of school," Chuck said. He winced. He hadn't meant to say that.

"Bryce told me," she said. Chuck went quiet, and they road in silence for a few minutes. "He cheated on me back when we dated, so I had a feeling he was telling me stuff about you to put you down. He likes to look like the best thing out there." Chuck nodded, agreeing with all of that. "I didn't think that part was true, or at least the way he told it." Chuck looked over at her, and bit his bottom lip.

"I didn't cheat," Chuck said. "As to what I think happened, I can't prove any of it, and I don't want to say anything that I can't prove." Sarah nodded. She understood what he wasn't saying. He thought Bryce was involved but he didn't know Sarah that well, could he trust her? Hell, why should he trust her? "Honestly, I try not to think about it, but being around him just brings it back, you know, but it's either this or the Buy More as the Nerd Herd supervisor, so I do the adult thing. Adulting sucks by the way." Sarah grinned. He pulled up in front of her house and let out a low whistle. "Nice." It was a house, 2 story, white picket fence, and a red door. Sarah shrugged.

"I didn't spend my money, saved it up, bought this, and the payments are too bad," she said grinning. "It's mine, well and the bank's." Chuck laughed. "Perfect American dream home, and just me there." She raised her eyebrows as if to say "oh well."

"So tell me Sarah Walker, why are you single, except that Bryce Larkin is a cheating scumball?" Chuck asked. Sarah had started to open the door, but paused and turned back to him.

"We're going to be working together pretty closely the next few weeks, I'm sure you'll figure it out," she said. "Thanks for the ride." With that, she got out of the car, shut the door, walked around the car, and started up the sidewalk. Chuck had rolled down his window.

"Hey, Sarah," Chuck said, in what he found to be an amazing moment of courage. She turned around to face him. "What if I don't figure it out?" She looked confused. "After these couple of weeks working together. What if I don't figure out why you're single?" She studied him for a minute, and a grin made it's way on her face. She walked up to the car, and she saw Chuck gulp, making her grin turn into a smile. She stopped, and leaned forward, her arm on top of the car and lowered her face toward the window.

"Chuck, are you asking me out?" she said.

"No," Chuck replied. "You have made it very clear you don't date coworkers." She nodded, the smile still on her face. "I'm just saying, if I'm slow, and don't figure it out, are you gonna tell me, because curiosity killed the cat, and you have no idea how curious I am." She took her arm off the roof, and squatted down, her arms crossed on the open driver side window, leaning toward him. Chuck looked very nervous, and he rubbed his hands on his pants.

"Are you nervous, Chuck?" she asked, emphasizing the k.

"Yes," Chuck admitted.

"Why, Chuck?" she asked. Chuck studied her and grinned.

"Because you double clicked an icon on your desktop you'd never seen before, and I'm wondering what you're gonna do here," he admitted. She laughed. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She studied him a second and bit the inside of her lip.

"Make you a deal," she said. Chuck was deathly quiet. "We get through the next few weeks, and after this is over, you and I have dinner where we did tonight." Chuck nodded. "At that point we'll discuss this further."

"And if I don't see it?" Chuck said. Sarah had a slight smirk on her face. "Why you're single."

"Oh, you will, Chuck, you will," she said.

"But if I don't?"

"What do you want, Chuck?" she asked, intrigued.

"I've been thinking, you're a good person, maybe a hair insane, but good," he said. She gave him a look, but was grinning. "Maybe you ought to reconsider your no dating anyone at work rule and change it to a no dating asshats rule."

"Is that what Bryce Larkin is, an asshat?" Sarah asked.

"At the minimum," Chuck said.

"Anyone in particular I should date?" she asked.

"I think that is something we should talk about at said dinner," he said. She grinned, and stuck her hand out. He took it in his, and swore he felt electricity.

"Deal," she said, and stood. "Goodnight, Chuck," she said, turned, and headed back up the walk. He sat there, and she turned back. "Is there something else you want to talk about?"

"I just wanted to make sure you got inside alright," Chuck replied. She put her keys down. Who was this guy?

"Uh, you did remember Carina telling you about my martial arts?" she asked. Chuck shrugged.

"Yeah, and I don't think I could do a lot, but if your key doesn't work," he said, shrugging.

"You're sweet, Chuck," she said. With that, she opened the door, and entered her home. She waved to him. "Good night."

"Good night, Sarah," he said, and drove off. He shook his head as the computer beeped in front of him, the search ended. He pulled up the results and groaned. It would be easier to start with his original program, and that was on a flash drive in his desk. He opened the desk drawer above his knees, found the flash drive and promptly dropped it. He got down on his hands and knees to find it.

"Dude!" Morgan yelled, slamming Chuck's door office door open, causing Chuck to jump up and hit his head on the pulled-out desk drawer.

"Ugh," he moaned, checking to see if his head was bleeding. "Morgan, what the hell?"

"Dude, you are like the greatest," Morgan said, running over and grabbing Chuck in a hug, still under the desk drawer. "How did you get Carina to go out with me?"

"I suggested she try taking out a nice guy for once," Chuck said. "Dude, don't let me down, be good to her."

"Absolutely," Morgan said. "I swear on my Ellie pillow." He paused. "Do you think that would be weird for her?" Chuck started to answer, when Morgan continued on. "I mean, it's Carina, right?" Chuck grabbed his arm, making Morgan's eyes get big.

"Dude, that's the way everyone treats her," Chuck said warningly. Morgan nodded, reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Chuck was intrigued.

"Ellie," Morgan said. Chuck shut his eyes. "I think it's time you and I had a discussion. No, hear me, Ellie, I've moved on." Chuck swore he heard a gasp and then the word, "Really?" "I know, I know, it's time, but it's time for me to return something to you, it wouldn't be right for the new women in my life. It's your pillow, Ellie." Chuck heard an "Ewww!" and then he swore a dial tone. "Ellie," he looked at Chuck. "I think it's crushed her."

"I'm sure that's it," Chuck said. "Look, just throw it away, or burn it." Morgan nodded.

"These are for you," Morgan said, thrusting them into Chuck's hands. "The best chocolate croissants in the country."

"Thank you," Chuck said. Morgan stood, nodded, and left. "Burn the pillow!" Morgan didn't answer. "He's not burning the pillow," he muttered to himself. Chuck put the bag on the table, shut the drawer, and got to work. He set a test to run, to check bugs on one part of the code and laid his head down on his desk. He felt a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him. It seemed it had been only a few seconds. He felt someone lean down close to his ear. It had to be Carina, but he was too tired to open his eyes.

"Chuck," the soft voice said, that definitely was not Carina. His eyes shot open and he looked up, seeing Sarah's grinning face. "Hey, you okay?" He smiled at her. That voice was so soothing it made him want to snuggle up to something, but she was a 2nd degree, or going to be, black belt and he really didn't want her hurting him.

"Yeah, weird dreams last night," he said. He was shaking off the sleepiness and didn't notice the look on her face. She started looking around. "Something wrong?"

"No," she said distracted, and her eyes came up on the bag. She sniffed the air. "Is that chocolate croissants?"

"Yep, Morgan brought me some this morning," Chuck replied. "Help yourself," he waved towards it, having turned toward the monitor. One hole patched, seven more he knew of to go.

"Mmmm," she moaned, making him stop mid-type, and turned toward her in his chair. She had a bit of a blush, but she was chewing and really didn't care. "This is sooo good," she almost moaned. "Maybe I should change my dating rule at work. He made these?" Chuck nodded, and smirked.

"It's the beard," Chuck said, teasingly. "It does special tings to the cooking and the ladies that eat said cooking."

"Carina is one lucky girl," she said with a wink. "Too bad he can't make pizza."

"Oh, but he can," Chuck said, turning back to the computer. He wanted to be further along than he was, but he also didn't want to ignore Sarah. What to do, what to do?

"So is all of this your office space?" Sarah asked looking around. There were three empty desks, one looked to have been worked on the other two appeared empty.

"Well, not exactly," Chuck answered. "Those two are Skip's but he never uses them," he said pointing to the two on the other side of the room. He turned toward the one behind him that look like it had been used a few times. "That one is mine when I need to look at schematics, or draw something out, or take something apart. Skip has the same setup over there."

"Where is Skip?" Sarah asked.

"There's a tiny room near the servers he uses," Chuck said shrugging, and pointing toward the door at the back of the room. "He takes care of everything from there, so I get all of this. Plus Carina scares him." Sarah laughed. She looked over at one of the empty desks. "You can use one if you want, or both." She turned to him, looking excited.

"Really?" she asked. He nodded. "I get the stupidest questions that can be answered by email but everyone stops by, and that's fine but I need to work on this project, and make sure it's right."

"I've got a laptop I can log you in on securely, and you can work from here," Chuck said, shrugging. "It would take us five minutes to set you up."

"You sure you don't mind, I don't want to interrupt you," she said.

"Nah, its fine, I'll probably have to stay late most nights anyway," he said with a shrug. He saw the look on her face. "It's my fault, I should have had these holes fixed a long time ago." Sarah thought about that.

"What do you mean a long time ago?" Sarah asked. "How were you to know there were holes in the security? It's not like you built it." Chuck's eyes got big.

"Uh, I found them when I first started," he said. Not a total lie. "I had so many other things to do, and you know, mess with Bryce's security system, that wouldn't be the best move for a new employee."

"Uh-huh," Sarah said, in a tone that said she was going to give him all the rope in the world to make this noose.

"Well, let me finish this patch and while it's running the scan we can get you fixed up. I'd do it right this second, but, you know, busy, busy, busy," he said. He closed his eyes. ACK! Why did she do this to him? He could hear her giggling.

"Chuck," he heard her say, and opened his eyes. She was standing right in front of him, head tilted a little, biting the inside of her lip. "Do I make you nervous?"

"A little," he admitted.

"Good," she chirped and left the room. He rolled his head backwards and looked up at the ceiling. This woman was going to be the death of him.

-ooooo-

"This feels almost like cheating," Sarah said. Chuck stopped what he was doing, blinked a few times and turned toward her. "It's almost like I'm not working, but I'm getting more done than I ever hoped." Chuck nodded, understanding. "Is there a printer I can send this print job to?"

"It should be good to go," he said. She hit print and the printer beside Chuck came to life.

"That's from Stanfield's team," Sarah said. Chuck pulled all the papers off. There was good news and bad news. He had closed four of the seven holes, but there was more than seven holes. Chuck read the paperwork and understood. He had created this project four years ago, and technology had moved on since then. He leaned back and groaned. "Bad news?"

"Yeah, this project was created four years ago," Chuck noted. "The technology has moved on, but the updates to this haven't been done."

"Sounds like someone hasn't touched it in a while," Sarah offered, sitting back, and putting her boots on the side of her desk, crossing her jean covered legs. Chuck grinned over at her.

"Comfy?" he asked.

"Mmmhmm," she said. "You know what would make this better. A pizza. A big pizza. Vegetarian."

"You a vegetarian, Walker?" Chuck asked.

"God, no," Sarah said, grinning. "I love a good cheeseburger, but on a pizza, all those meats tend to make it greasy."

"Affect your spastic colon?" he asked, grinning. She looked around, found a piece of paper, wadded it up, and threw it at him, hitting him right between the eyes.

"Neaiou," she said, and Chuck thought she sounded adorable. "But when you have meats on pizza, it does tend to get a little greasy."

"Makes you gassy?" Chuck asked. Sarah narrowed her eyes at him. "So that's it, that's why you're single, you get gassy?" Sarah threw her head back and laughed.

"Yes, Chuck, I get gassy, but I'm pretty sure if you found a doctor they would confirm that everyone gets gassy," she said, shaking her head at him.

"Yeah, I think Ellie and Awesome would agree," he said, leaning back and stretching. He pushed his chair away, stood, and leaned back to stretch his back. Sarah stared, and then realized she was staring. She sat up quickly, turned and buried her head in her work.

"Awesome?" she said, trying to ignore his stretching.

"My sister's boyfriend, now fiancé," Chuck explained. "They're doctors." Sarah turned in her chair.

"Wait, your sister, who helped get you through high school and Stanford, is a doctor?" Sarah asked. Chuck nodded, looking a little shamed by the obvious comparison.. "Chuck," she admonished softly. "There's nothing to be ashamed about."

"Didn't you graduate from Harvard?" Chuck asked. Sarah nodded.

"Yes, but Chuck..." Sarah began, but stopped. "I don't know what happened, but did you talk to anyone at the school about it?"

"Yeah," Chuck breathed. "But they had 'proof,'" he said, using finger quotes.

"Bryce," she said softly. "He claim he saw the tests?" Chuck swallowed,nodded.

"Sarah, I never saw those tests before," Chuck insisted softly. She stood up, walked over, and put a hand on his left shoulder, and wrapped her right arm around his back.

"Trust me, I believe you," she said. "Bryce set you up?" Chuck shrugged.

"I truly don't know, but what other explanation is there?" Chuck's stomach rumbled. He looked at the clock. It was nearly four. "We missed lunch!" Sarah laughed. He turned to her.

"We must love our work," she deadpanned. Chuck snorted.

"How about a large vegetarian pizza from my bearded buddy?" he asked.

"No olives," she added quickly. Chuck looked at her, a sudden look of understanding on his face followed by a slow nod.

"Ah, now I see," he said.

"See what?"

"You're high maintenance," Chuck said. Sarah laughed out loud.

"Chuck," she said, getting very close and winking. "When you're the best, you expect the best," she said softly. Chuck gulped, and she chortled. "I don't want olives on a freaking pizza and that's what you come up with?"

"Well, if you'd just tell me why you're single, I wouldn't have to keep guessing," he said. She grinned, and headed toward the door.

"Tell you what, I need to stop by and talk to Carina. After I finish, I'll go get the pizza," she said.

"Sounds, good, but you avoided the question," Chuck said. She stopped at the door, holding on with her right hand, tapping it. She turned back and studied him.

"Yes...But I like it when you guess," she said, and headed upstairs.

"Hey," Chuck yelled. She stuck her head back in. "Be gentle with Morgan, first Carina, then you, that's too much power for one beard." She laughed as she left. "She's still crazy," he said softly. "But apparently I like crazy."

A/N: Oh Chuck...you are in deep, and you don't even care....I'll give you a hint what happens next time...movie night...serious talks about Aquaman, and Casey...wha? Come on back for What's Going On…take care…see you soon…til next time.

#Chuck #Sarah #Charah #Hotel California #fanfic #fanfiction

[cupcakesdontplay]

Just Friends

Kihyun One Shot

“Summer!” My best friend yells. Waving his hand like an idiot in the crowd, beckoning me to him. I roll my suitcase down terminal walk ways. He’s holding a bouquet of calla lilies, just as he knows I love and From the distance I can see him adjusting the camera he always keeps by his side. I roll my eyes as I see the familiar process in his head. The way he sees art in the mundane, the pure smile he hides behind the camera. It’s uniquely Kihyun. He puts his camera down, handing me my lilies. “Flowers, for the newest Federal Aviation Test Pilot,” he congratulates me.

“Aweee, Ki! How thoughtful of you,” I smell my flowers, as he snaps a few close ups of me. “Haha stop! I’m so ready to be home!” I say as he leads me back to his car. We settle back into our same routine as if I hadn’t been gone for the last six months. Singing at the top of our lungs, dancing along to songs we memorized years ago. Heading back to our apartment downtown. A small two bedroom, that we moved into after college. We’ve been friends forever and I can’t remember Ki not being a part of my life, and yet I still want more of him. I’ve seen his dick, more times than he probably realizes. A thick, angry, vein lined cock when he’s “cursed” with morning wood running to the bathroom to stroke one off, and I conveniently decide that, that’s the best time to discuss my dreams while he pretends I can’t tell he’s cumming in the shower.

What I wouldn’t give to wrap my lips around it….

“Summer, I’ve missed you so much.” He says pulling into a rest stop, “And I swore to myself that once you got back, I would tell you how much I care about you.”

“I care about you too, Ki.” Looking confused, maybe he has to pee?

“I was going to wait til we got home, but I just can’t,”

“Well go pee,” I shrug. Wondering if I should pee as well.

“No. Jesus Summer,” he shakes his head, “Summer, I’ve been so in love with you for years. And I just couldn’t keep hiding it.”

“Really,” I’m in shock. Is he a mind reader? “Kihyun, I love you too.” He wasted no time reaching over to kiss me. Pulling me into him, he kisses me hard, his tongue begging for entrance. It’s like he’s starving for me. His tongue dances with mine as I allow him access. All that can be heard is the sound of our lips meeting each other, desperate for one another.

“Damn,” he says pulling away from me, my head spinning from his intoxicating kiss. “I wanted to wait til we got home, and surprise you. But Summer,” he let’s out a long breath. “I’ve been fighting off this boner since you got off the plane.”

My eyes trail down to the same thick angry cock I’ve snuck peaks at for years, it’s obvious in his tight jeans. “What…what do you want me to do?”

He looks at me, seriously for just a moment. “Suck my dick,” it’s more of a command then a request. “Undo my jeans and fucking suck me off,” hes somewhere between horny and delirious. But I honestly couldn’t care. I’ve wanted to wrap my lips around him for years. I undo his buttons with easy allowing his cock to almost snap to full mast.

“No boxers?” I wonder aloud.

“I knew I wouldn’t be able to stand the friction of my dick against my boxers once I saw you, going commando was ten times worse.” It’s now that I can pick out the wet spot his precum has left on his jeans. It’s surprising, but satisfying. I hesitate for just a second before gripping the base of his cock feeling it throb in my hand, he groans. His precum leaks onto my hand, as he pants watching me intently.

I take my other hand, using my thumb to rub his precum around the head of his dick. Teasingly, I investigate him. Just trying to drive him crazy. “Summer,” he moans my name with his honey sweet voice. My eyes shift up towards him with his head resting on the head rest making eye contact with the driver in the next car over. Hmm should we do this in broad daylight? Hell yes! I wink and lick my lips, before going down on him. His dick fills my mouth with a tasty satisfaction. His hand travels into my hair, gripping on and pushing me down to he’s hitting the back of my throat, then guiding my head up to the head of his cock and back down in long controlled strokes, forcing me to choke and sputter, drooling on him.

“Fuck, I’ve dreamt of you sucking my cock.” He’s lost in this dream like scenario, as I graze my bottom teeth against the underside of him. Pulling off with a loud plop as he releases my hair, his dick glistening with the mix of his precum and my saliva. I snake my hand around him, using long paced strokes, watching his face contort in pleasure he’s getting from me. “Sum…Summer,” his hand covers mind making me up the pace. “I’m gonna cum,” he says through breaths, as the first rope of his white spunk forceful hits my cheek.

The words of one of my best friends ting through my head “ a lady swallows” her cheeky ass. I lower back on him, to drink down all the cum I can. “Damn, Summer. I knew you were a cum hungry whore,” he says wiping a tiny dribble from the corner of my lip.

“Only for you, Ki,” I whisper.

“What do you mean, Sum?”

“I’m only a cum hungry whore for you,” I repeat.

I’m shaken by the adorable laughter, “Summer, you’re talking in your sleep again,” I Groggily open my eyes to the darkness surrounding us. I blink to alertness. Damn it, was it all just a wet dream?

I sit up straight, feeling my own dampness between my legs. “Son of a bitch..”

“Well a fuck you, too” he laughs. Opening the car door, we go about getting my stuff and heading back to the apartment, still oblivious to how much I want him too bury himself in me.

Getting inside, there’s a gift box and card sitting on the table. “I’m gonna go change,” he kisses my forehead. “Welcome home, Babe.”

I grab the gift, reading the note

Congratulations Summer,

I knew that you could do it, and I’m so proud of you. We’ve never been apart for more than a week, and it gave me some time to think. I thought about you, I thought about how you’re my favorite person, my favorite pair of eyes to look into, my favorite name to see on my phone, even if it’s just to ask about food, my favorite way to spend the afternoon, you’re my everything Summer.

So I’m taking my chances, shooting my shot. I bought this for tonight, put it on and meet me in the living room.

-Ki

What? What? Hmmm excuse me? I lay the card down opening the box, revealing a set of lingerie. What the actual hell. My mind moves on autopilot shuffling excitedly to my room, to change. I tie my hair back into a low pony, and slide into the sexy little number. Taking a deep breath, I tiptoe back into the living room, seeing Kihyun shirtless on the couch. Our eyes meet and his smile reaches his eyes, effectively making them disappear.

He stands up, confidence radiating out of his pores. He lifts my chin and kisses me passionately. “I knew you’d come,” he says after breaking the kids.

He stands up, confidence radiating out of his pores. He lifts my chin and kisses me passionately. “I knew you’d come,” he says after breaking the kiss. He strokes my arms. “You have no idea how often you whimper my name when you sleep,” he laughs.

I want to hide my face, but his hand slips between my legs. The crotch less panties betraying my secret, as I gasp at his touch. “I wanted to play with your pussy so much on the way home,” his finger circles my swollen clit, spreading the moisture between my lips. “You kept moaning my name,” he slips a finger inside me, stroking the walls of my pussy, as he continues. “Calling yourself a cum hungry whore,” he bites my bottom lip.

“Ki, k-ki Hyun,” I feel my knees going weak as he finds that special spot that immediately has me wanting to cum. He pushes me up against the wall, squeezing a second finger in, curving it to intensify the sensation, his palm rubbing against my clit.

“A sex starved bitch, aren’t you,” he says roughly kissing my neck.

“Yes Kihyun,”

“Say it,”

“I’m a sex starved bitch,”

“Whose Whore are you?”

“Yours,” I whimper out as he roughly pulls out of me, leaving me empty.

“That’s right, you’re my whore, ,” he kisses me. Hard our tongues dancing, as his boner pokes into my tummy. His thin boxers leaving a cold damp spot on my lower belly. I try to slid my hand into his boxers, only to be blocked by his hand. “Mmm, mm” he says denying me. “You kept saying how much you wanted to wrap your lips around me.” He smirks into the kiss. “So I’m gonna fuck that pretty lip mouth of yours,” he says gripping my cheeks. “Let me pretty girl taste her master,” he says pecking my lips.

My sweet hamster of a best friend is no where to be found, he’s gone full Dom. Something I’ve never expected from him, but it makes me fucking hot. He undoes my bra letting it fall to the floor, he grips my breast, massaging, kneading, groping the tit. Twisting my nipple drawing deep moans out of me.

He smiles his little mischievous smile, “go sit in front of the couch on your knees,” he tells me. As he wonders back into his room, I’m left sitting on my knees, damp, and anxious. I can’t help but stroke my own clit. I’m so far from my own high, My hand is just not cutting it, my pussy just wants him. After what seems like forever, he emerges with a sparkling jeweled plug and some other kind of toy. I’m literally dripping onto the tiled floor under me, and he looks upset.

“Are you fucking master bating right now?” He questions as I move my hands away from my panties, my knees feeling bruised being on them for so long.

“You,” I start

“No no no, you cum hungry slut. You just couldn’t wait for your master to get you fucking off?” He looks at me with disapproval. “Face down, Ass up.” He commands, and I obey. My chest hitting the floor, I can feel my nipples reharden being exposed to the cold floor. His finger inspects my drenched cunt, stroking the folds, and the begging to be abused button. I feel something more foreign bathe in my juices, waiting for his next move. His hand spreads my ass and without warming and only being lubed by my own juices, he pushes the plug into my ass. And all I want to do is cum, feeling so full. He kisses my pussy lips, sinking his tongue deep into my entrance.

“Such a fucking whore,” he slaps my pussy, making my squeak. “I hear that a finger in the ass takes away your gag reflex, so why not a whole butt plug? He twists the jeweled hand in my ass drawing out another moan. My walls pulsating, “I was trying to set up a nicer vibrator so you could cum, but you had to go and touch yourself.” He tsk and sits on the couch. “Back on your knees, I guess I’ll still fulfill one of your wishes. Keep your hands on your thighs, I’m gonna fuck your mouth.” He pulls his boxers down, showing off his fully harden dick, the head red and angry, glistening in precum.

I want nothing more than to hold it, but settle for him pulling my hair the same way he did in my dream and forcing himself deep down my throat, holding me down as his hips snap upwards. His dick slipping deeper into my throat. Causing me to want to gag, but the massive plug in my ass must be doing it’s job. I don’t gag, but he fills my throat. He’s dick slipping in and out of my mouth with little regard to my breathing. He plays with how much I can take, holding me down and counting a loud the seconds I’m forced to breath through my nose as he tries to choke on his monster cock. Before letting me up, over and over he guides my head. Until I hear that common Korean swear, the one he always slips out before he cums.

My friends words ring through my freshly fucked head, I’m a drooling mess as I hear her remind me to not waste a drop. His hips snap harder and faster, before stilling in the back of my throat. Ropes of cum shooting down my throat. He starts to pull back out one landing on my tongue tasting his salty sweet cum, the last ropes hitting my cheek. Painting my face with him.

“Uh, such a pretty bitch covered in my cum.” He runs his finger through his cum, forcing his finger into my mouth. Just so I can suck his finger off. “Such a bad little whore,” he smiles. “Say it,”

“ You’re a bad little whore,” I joke. He rolls his eye giving me that precious smile. “I’m your bad little whore, Kihyun.”

“Daddy,”

“I’m your whore, Daddy,” I can already see him getting ready for a second round.

“Should I fuck my whore?”

“Daddy, should fuck his whore,”

“Mmm I wondering if Daddy can feel that ass plug in your wet little cunt?”

“It’s so big,”

He lays back on the couch, “climb on my dick, let me see,”

I follow his words, dusting off my bruised knees, climbing on too. I line him up and ease myself onto him. “Fuck, Fuck Kihyun. My fuck,” we moan as he fills my pussy, the thin lining between his cock and Butt plug being roughly stroked.

“Damn, you fit like a glove. Your pretty pussy, on my dick,” he holds my hips. “Ride me, like the fucking whore you are,” I grip my tits holding my girls as I start to ride him, rolling my hip up, down and around. I lean forward my tits resting on his chest, as I kiss him deeply, my hips snapping up and down on him. My cunt missed him with each stroke, “Fuck, I need to cum,” I whimper through kisses.

“Don’t you dare, I’m gonna cum first in that pretty pink pussy, then I’ll think about letting you cum.” He flips us over, beginning to drill my cunt his hips snapping into me, sending jolts of pleasure through me, one hand on my hips, and the other stroking my clit.

“Damn, I need to cum,”

“Don’t you,” he can’t finish his sentence as he whispers his favorite curse word, cumming deep inside my pussy, sending me into my own orgasm. He collapses ontop of me, as I squeal through my own. Our heavy breath, matching each other’s as his cum seeps out and down my legs.

“You weren’t supposed to cum,”

“I’m sorry,”

“I’m gonna wreck you’re ass in the morning.”

“Please?”

[mintyoongiskookie]

B r o k e n   F e e t

Requested: Yes~  

You should do 2 and 32  

Member: Jeon Jungkook Fuckboy!au

Genre: Humor, fluff, slight angst, implied smut

Word Count: 3,110

#2- “I’m gonna need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else.”

#32- “Look I know you really want that seat, but I do too now you should move before I sit on your lap.”

A/N- I’m sorry this just had to be a fuckboy one but I’m totally not sorry Well, here it is, my friend requested so I hope y’all like it~ THANKS LOVELIES

     A harsh knock disrupted you from your sleep, which, mind this dream snatcher, has been the first good few hours of sleep you’d gotten in a long time. Begrudgingly, after enough knocks to think the door would break down, you slid out from the covers of your loft that seemed surprisingly soft and mumbled a quiet, “coming”. When you threw open the door to confront the person who might get punched in the face from you, you surely did not expect to see the fuckboy of the campus, Jeon Jungkook. Oh god, how you hated his guts. You had always hated fuckboys, I mean, who other than sluts liked them? Unfortunately, you two had known each other for quite sometime. You had both grown up in the same hometown, and graduated in the same class. You frequently questioned the universe why you couldn’t have been born a year or two before, just anything to get away from this boy. He used to be so cute and shy - the little boy who was ever scared to accept dandelions from the girls on the playground when he was on the swings for recess. Hell, you two used to be friends, even though you would tease him for having boy cooties. You would always walk with him, wrestle him in the mud when no one else would, and he would finger paint you some picture that meant the world to him and pick you first for flag football on his team. He was your closest friend, your everything. He would never make fun of you for wearing cargo shorts and not dresses, for playing football and blocks instead of house and dress up. But, alas, not all good things last forever. Around sixth or seventh grade, things changed. Puberty hit, and you went from wearing cargo and basketball shorts to leggings and denim shorts. He got taller - surprisingly taller. But you thought that this lanky alien was still the boy you loved, the boy who would stick with you through thick and thin.

     But shit, you couldn’t be more wrong.

     You pretty much acted the same - you’d rather stick to basketball and soccer rather than dance and softball, but hormones got the best of him. He was one of the cool kids, obviously too cool for you. And you knew this was going to happen, but never that fast. You both expected to stick together until out of college, where you’d both either have your own lives and families, or just end up marrying each other. But nope. Life doesn’t ever want you to have what you want, and you had learned that the hard way. He stuck to his sports, but he tried to get as far away from you as possible. He’d ask to switch his seat if he ever got one next to you, and frankly, most people could see how hurt you were. You two had always been glued at the hips, you being one of the only people who he would actually talk to. It almost hurt other people to see this happen, but you learned to get over it. You’d learned to cage up your heart at a young age, and let only a few people crack that barrier, but never infiltrate it. With everything you did, every step you took, you told yourself, don’t ever get close to anyone again. You stuck to two friends, both girls who were like you in many ways, and you all understood each other well. You’d eventually turn into a pop, but not the “Oh look at me, I’m a slut who wears skirts and plays sports and has had one hundred boyfriends already”. Oh no. Far from it. Everyone knew you as the girl who would fight for herself, the girl with the good grades, and the girl who will beat you to a pulp if you’d ever insult her. So, that being known by the whole school, people were decently nice to you. You heard the rumors people say, since your friends give you all the gossip, but couldn’t ever find a shit to give about what anyone had said anymore. You’d basically cut everyone out from your life except those two special friends, to the point where you wouldn’t talk to your parents and they had almost reached out to a therapist. And honestly, you couldn’t even try to believe this all happened because of some measly boy, and you’d try to tell yourself otherwise. He’d hang out with the jocks, and do anything in his power to stay away from you. By eighth grade, you just gave up and blocked him out too. He was a no one to you at this point, you’d pretty much forgotten about him.

     But on that faithful day, when he showed up to your college dorm dripping wet and naked, you were quite amused from the look of pure horror that slapped him in the face.

     Apologies spewed out of his mouth like water from a fountain. Your attention had drifted down to his bare torso. Seeing as it was only 2 in the morning, nothing could really keep your focus for more than a minute. With a lift of a single finger from you, his ranting ceased, and your eyes looked back up to his face. A heavy sigh drifted out of your lips, and you were ready to just crawl back into bed and forget that any of this happened.

     “I’m gonna need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else.” You laughed at his red face, thinking, Wow, the one and only Jeon Jungkook, just blushed. This must be a dream. You moved to slam the door shut in his face, but as the action happened, he moved his bare foot between the door frame and the door. A howl of pain erupted from his throat, and you could’ve sworn you heard a few bones crunch. Sighing, you opened your door back up and ignored his hopping figure as you went to find some kind of cover for him. Settling on a towel, you threw it at his chest and slammed the door shut.

     “(Y/N)!!!! Please, open the door, you’re the only person I know for at least three square blocks!!!! I’m sorry for what I did, and what has happened, and I know that none of this should be happening because if I was smarter as a kid we might be in a better college in a nice apartment with better friends and-”

     “Fuck off, Jeon. You made your choice, and I chose to block you out from my life completely. Now keep the damn towel, spare the early birds some nightmares for later tonight, and get the fuck away from me.” Ouch. You could tell that hit something in him, because it even plucked a few of your heart strings. Hearing the soft sigh and the receding patter of feet, you decided to just head back to sleep and persuade yourself that all of this was a dream.

____________________

     “He did what?” You rolled your eyes at the question from your friend and went on to sipping your coffee.

     “He showed up to my dorm, naked, dripping wet, spewing out some kind of apology and asking for what I assume was clothes and a towel. I won’t be surprised if he comes out to find me again. Oh, and I probably broke his foot.”

     “Why the fuck would you break his foot?!” Her exclamation earned you both a few shushes and judgmental stares, as well as a hard glare from you. You answered with a shrug and something simple:

     “He wouldn’t move his foot.” That, also, earned you a groan from her.

     “That’s when you report him, or shove him out, not shatter his bones!”

     “That is very well an option in that situation, and you know it.” A sigh escaped her lips, and she moved to gather all of her stuff into her bag.

     “(Y/N), you know he can sue you, right?”

     “And you know he wouldn’t, right?” You mocked, putting your book mark in your book and placing it in your bag while getting up. “He won’t do it knowing what he did to me and how badly he screwed up my life. I can guarantee you that the little boy is still in there, but he’s just caged up.” You shrugged at her and walked out of the cafe to your classes.

     “… Oh for god’s sake, your literature major is getting to you. Bring the old (Y/N) back, please.” Her hands clasped together in a dramatic show, earning the finger from you. A laugh poured from her lips as she waved and walked to her art building. “There she is. Anyways, see you at lunch!” She jogs away from you as you head to your class, giving her a small wave. Today’s going to be pure hell, you thought. You knew word of what happened had already gotten around, but you also knew that you didn’t care. And that no one cared enough to ask you about it, but just simply play telephone until the story is completely twisted and wrong.

____________________

     You thought you’d heard everything by now. You heard that he’d fucked you. You heard that you stabbed him, and attacked him, hence the broken foot. Hell, you heard that you were actually the leader of a gang and called your members over to kill him. You liked that one the best, it made you laugh. Your classes had ended now, and you’d had one too many run-ins with some of Jungkook’s friends. Luckily, and surprisingly, one of them was your friend. Park Jimin. He was one who stuck with you through your little experience, and had always comforted you when the stories got to your head. Anyways, you two had made plans for you to come to the theater downtown with him for the midnight viewing of “The Mummy”. Now, you were planning to go alone some night that wasn’t the opening, but how could you resist the absolute sweetheart named Jimin? So, your friends being your friends, they invited themselves over to your dorm to, “Help you with your outfit,” despite their lack of fashion sense.

     “So Jimin, huh?” Both of them snickered at your irritated face as you slid into the simple outfit of black denim jeans, a cut off Obey crop top, and some black Vans.

     “Oh, you’re both so fucking funny. Don’t pull that bullshit on me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a movie to watch with my friend and I would appreciate it if you both got the fuck out of my room.” With sarcastic smiles, they both trudged out of your room as you shut and locked the door. Just as you hit the stairwell, you heard one call after you.

     “Don’t forget to tell us the details (Y/N)!~” Once again, her comment earned another finger and you trotted down the stairs and meet up with Jimin.

____________________

     Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

     Those were the only two words running through your head as you saw the silhouette of someone who’s build looked a hell of a lot like Jeon Jungkook’s.

     Including the bulky quad of someone who would be wearing a boot.

     Perhaps the boot of someone with a broken foot.  

     Which may have been caused by someone slamming said foot with a door.

     Yeah, that was him.

     You were contemplating turning and sprinting away while you still could, but it was too late at that time, seeing as you could hear Jimin calling out your name. Damn you Jimin. But, the closer you approached, you saw the apologetic look in his eyes, now fully understanding that this was all the little brat’s choice, and Jimin couldn’t have possibly stopped him. So, you chose to walk in with them, ignoring the gaze that was burning holes into the back of your skull. After everyone but Jungkook found their seats, you took up the duty to gather the snacks and drinks. One your way back up the isle, you knocked shoulders with Jungkook, setting him off balance. You knew he was more confident today, your outburst from last night, or rather early this morning, boosting his esteem.

     “Don’t get to rough just yet Princess, it’s only the first night.”

    Princess? God, you were so close to barfing and breaking his other foot. How were you both friends once? But, choosing to just walk away and get back to your duty, you came back later with snacks for everyone. But that wasn’t the only thing you came back to. He was in your spot. Your spot. A growl was threatening to tear from your throat, but you just quietly handed everyone their food and went to block his view. You gulped as you saw his signature smirk glued onto his face as he gazed at you, and wait, why were you nervous? Why is your heart hammering? (Y/N), keep it under control! A sigh escaped your lips, and you chose to go the simple way, seeing as the room was much too quiet for the both of you to start up a fight.

     “Look, I know you really want that seat, but I do too now you should move before I sit on your lap.” Oh shit, there’s that blush again. You couldn’t believe this. The Jeon Jungkook, blushed at your words for a second time. That was absolute madness. You even caught how he adverted his eyes for a second, and how he uncomfortably squirmed the slightest bit before patting his thighs and smirking all over again.

     “Have at it.” And so you did.

     That was something he wasn’t expecting.

     And fuck, you realized that he’s still a guy, let alone one who goes around fucking girls, and that’s when you felt it. Ohhhhhh no. Please, let that be something in his pocket, please oh please oh please oh please. But by the groan that came from his lips that he tried to cover with a cough, you knew it wasn’t something in his pocket.

     Ladies and gents, you had just given him a boner.

     In some way, you were sort of proud, because hey, don’t fucking mess with me bitch. But, you also were aware of the bright blush on your cheeks as you trained your eyes on the screen. This was going to be a long night.

____________________

     Around the mid way point of the movie, you slipped out to use the bathroom, yet almost everyone in that damn theater knew that wasn’t the case, seeing as you didn’t dare to move for majority of the movie. With that being said, you opted out on chilling on the sinks for a bit before you heard the footsteps of a limp enter. Your eyes widened as Jungkook limped his way in, trying to be as quiet as possible for someone in his situation.

     “What the fuck are you doing in here?!” The sharp whisper left your lips as you jumped down to pull him out of sight of anyone who might come in. “You’re gonna get us kicked out! What if someone saw you?! Oh god, someone saw you didn-” Your sentence gets cut off by the soft feeling of his plush lips pressed against yours, and the first thing you noticed was the sweet strawberry taste of the Twizzlers he had been eating. Your cheeks burn, and he pulls you flush against him with his arms draped around your waist. His tongue swiped over your lips, and you graciously granted access.

     After a few minutes of hair pulling and tongue fighting, you both broke away gasping for air, and that old bunny-like smile plastered over his swollen lips.  “I had to shut you up one way or another, so I went with the one I would’ve liked best.” He was back, the little boy you loved so much, the one who you had found out loved you back. “(Y/N)… I’m still sorry about all that happened… I was so stupid, and naive, and I honestly don’t know why I thought I could ever live without you in my life.”

     A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you tilted your head to look up at him. “Yes, you were all those things, but I still love you and I don’t really think any dick move you did could’ve eliminated my feelings for good. Jeon Jungkook, I love you, always have, and always will.” A smile graced your lips as you ended, and a grin placed itself on Jungkook’s.

     “I love you too (Y/N).” And he topped it off with a kiss.

     You were right, tonight was going to be a long night.

____________________

     “Corinna, come on, mommy needs to get you to school on time!” The giggle of your daughter lit up your eyes, and you set off to find her and your son. Your husband peeked out from the bedroom, looking down over the upstairs railing at you.

     “Hide and seek again?”

     “Yes Jungkook, now instead of playing with them again, could you please help me try to find them?” A laugh bubbled out from his chest, and you couldn’t help but grin and the melodious sound.

     “Okay baby, just a sec.” He goes to find them, hands fiddling in an attempt to tie his tie. But he certainly didn’t expect the door of his childrens’ bedroom to slam shut on his foot, a yelp of agony slipping from his throat.

     Both of the children joined in yelling for you, saying that, “DADDY’S FOOT GOT STUCK IN THE DOOR AGAIN!!!” You rushed up the stairs to see your husband cradling his foot on the floor and a laugh broke out from your lips.

     “Really Jungkook, what is it with you and breaking your foot in doors?” This made a smile tug at his lips, and you swoop in for a quick peck. The kids chide in with sounds of distaste as you both laugh, and you pull out your phone. “I’ll call in for you, and we’ll get you to the hospital after dropping the kids off at school.”

     “Thanks baby, I love you~”

     “I love you too, now go rest that foot.”

     And suddenly, all of your childhood fantasies had come true, and you knew you could never ask for a different life.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook humor #jungkook father #jungkook au #bts au #kookie #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts #bangtan boys

[renaroo]

Day 4 Books: All I Ask of You

Disclaimer: Batman and associated characters are the creative property of DC Comics. Warnings: Canon-typical violence & language, Canon character death mentioned, Mild adoption discrimination at the beginning Pairings: CassandraxChristine Rating: K+ Synopsis: Christine has made a habit of coming up to Cassandra’s loft above the studio and reading with her almost every night before patrol. Cassandra is grateful, and wants to confess as much, but needs the way how she does it to be just as special. CassandraxChristine. Sapphic September: Books.

A/N: Okay. So everyone who knows me even a little bit and saw me reblogging those prompts, and saw that Day 4 was “Books” knew exactly which character this was going to be centered around. Admit it, everyone, we all knew this was coming. And you’re at least a little bit happy to be proven right. Admit it. 

Cassandra Cain laid on the cricket spring mattress in complete silence, her eyes focused on the fly that had landed on the rafters above, one arm draped over her head, the other draped over her stomach with the thin novella clutched by her hand. There were many things she should have been doing, many things she could have been practicing, perfecting, preparing.

But ultimately she laid in wait, frozen by nervousness that she did not encounter in training or battle or patrol.

In fact, thinking back on past missions, Cassandra would have very much liked a second round with the Monster Men that had attacked Gotham City only a few weeks beforehand rather than what she was dealing with then and there.

Frustration and sorry only came to Cassandra in things she was uncertain of. Her ability to fight, her ability to win, was never something she felt worried about. Those things, moving with speed and efficiency, seeing the snap of muscles and the ability to predict just where and what to hit or block at once, was not something that worried her. Sometimes she fought good foes, ones that could dodge or mask that one hit she needed to make, but in general she did not get more than frustrated. She was never embarrassed by performance in battle.

Frustration for Cassandra knew no truer form than what she felt in what she could not do and what she could not do was something so simple, so basic, that it burned her eyes with tears to even be reminded of it.

She clutched the book against her stomach tighter. It was thin — so much thinner than the things read by her family and friends. It was so simple. It was nothing. And yet it was everything. If only she could master it, just to prove just to say what her vocabulary still failed to really say.

With a deep breath, Cassandra stopped studying the fly and lowered her chin enough to see the book against her stomach, waiting to be opened. The book marker still visibly flagging the page which her friends had helped her select.

There was a clock on the wall that Cassandra had set up, but even if it had told the actual time, she wouldn’t have noticed. Instead she looked toward the window, seeing that there was still an orange hue to the sky, light seeping through the cracks and crevices of the city skyline.

It meant to Cassandra that she still had some time to prepare herself.

Taking a deep breath, Cassandra sat up on her creaky bed, grabbed the hair scrunchie from her bedside table, and pulled up her hair.

With little time on her side, she opened her book dutifully to the marked page and cleared her throat for another practice.

Her heart twisted and fretted, hoping that somehow she managed to do everything she planned justice.

Christine came up the moment the last of the ballet instructors and students had left the final practice. She had laid low, going quiet and seemingly busying herself with changing from her practice clothes to her regular wear while others chattered, but it was a ruse to help her hang back and hide behind the curtain until the others were all gone and the lights all out.

Cassandra had watched things play out that way many times for many nights, but never before had they come with such heart pounding worry and concern. She wasn’t sure if, as normal as the night was beginning for their routine, it was worth divulging from to explore the unknown. The unspoken.

She wasn’t certain if it was going to break their spell of what they had had together so far or reinvent it.

She didn’t know if it was something she even wanted reinvented. For any reason. Even for good reason. It nearly made her feel ill to consider such things.

But as Christine climbed the stairs and headed toward Cass’ loft, the vigilante steeled herself for change like she had never steeled herself before. Then she stepped forward and true. Swiftly moving through shadows to arrive at her room before Christine could.

And, perhaps with a little too much enthusiasm, Cassandra flung the door open when Christine was only two steps away from it herself.

the surprise was clear on Christine’s face, she blinked a few times before smiling and tucking back her curls behind her ears. “Oh! Hey. I’m sorry, were you about to head out? I thought I was on time tonight, guess I dallied a bit too much downstairs…”

Listening to Christine’s voice was like a song without instrument. She spoke every word, every syllable, with a confidence worthy of a piano’s key. It was the sort of voice that Cassandra imagined herself waking up to in the mornings or at the very least falling asleep to in the evenings. She spoke with pitches and tenor that would make even the most well spoken of heroes feel Appropriately faint.

At least, that was how every word felt in Cassandra’s chest when she listened to Christine. Ever since the first moment that they finally met, exchanged names, when Cassandra owed the ballerina her life. And for every encounter since when Cassandra began to owe Christine all the more — owe her for kindness and patience and words.

Even at that moment, sweaty from her recent practice, a duffle bag slung haphazardly over her shoulder, Christine was holding three books in hand, with a plan to read at least all of one to Cassandra, out loud, that night, rehearsing verse for verse, and weaving characters and lands even more spectacular than what Cassandra’s strange and amazing life had already seen.

Taking that breath, feeling that appreciation owed, Cassandra almost froze up. Almost forgot where she was or with whom. It was just Christine and bad idea ad nauseam.

It was then that Christine’s gaze grew even more concerned, and she began to put the books away, reaching out for Cass’ cheek, delicate soft fingers dancing across Cassandra’s own scarred and thickened skin. “Hey, are you alright? Is everything okay?”

That touch grounded Cassandra for a a moment and she leaned into it before realizing that she was making the moment weird. And that was the last thing she wanted to do. Not after all the careful planning.

She reached up and took hold of Christine’s hand. “Christine,” she said reverently.

“Yes?” Christine repeated, brows knitted in concern.

“Inside,” Cass said, wrapping her hand around Christine’s and beginning to take her toward the door. “Have something.”

Christine tilted her head and followed on in. “For me?”

“Yes,” Cass answered, shutting the door behind them and walking hastily toward the bed where her book was ready, pages opened and laid flat against the mattress so she could turn directly to her marked page.

“Oh, Cass, you don’t have to do anything for me. I enjoy reading with you,” Christine began before pausing and looking at the novella. “Do you want to read something different than what I brought?”

“Yes,” Cass answered at last, taking a few steps back from Christine, looking meaningfully into her eyes. “I read.”

For a moment, Christine was merely looking blankly back at Cassandra, head tilted in confusion.

So Cassandra cleared her throat and looked down to the marked page she had gone over nearly a hundred times.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm’d; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade, Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st; Nor shall death brag thou wanderlust in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st:

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.”

When Cassandra looked up, clearing her throat again, she found Christine clutching her chest, mouth slightly agape. It was a new expression, one lost on Cass for the first time in her life. She had never seen such awe given to her, and it made her quickly snap the book closed in fear.

“You learned a sonnet?” Christine asked. “You learned a sonnet for me?” she asked, stepping closer. “You… read for me?”

“You’re… teaching me,” Cass clarified. “You… You do so much. To help me read. You… I wanted to show… I don’t always… Words are hard.”

“Words are hard,” Christine agreed with a small laugh.

“I needed to borrow… to let you know…” Cass trailed off, rubbing at her neck. “A friend… he helped me choose… Seemed… right.”

“It seemed right to say to me?” Christine still tried to understand.

“Yes. Because. Because…” Cass continued, no longer stepping back as Christine approached. “I want you to know… I am learning. But I can’t. Speak so pretty. The right words are. Hard. But I can read them now. Better. Because of you. Because you’re teaching me the… right words. The hard ones.”

Her face felt as though it was on fire, but she finally met Christine’s gaze, and all of those nerves, all of that apprehension seemed to finally melt away.

“Those words, reading them, I think of you. And that’s why they’re right,” Cassandra explained further. “I… hope that’s okay.”

“Cass,” Christine said, wrapping her arms around Cassandra’s neck and leaning in, resting her forehead against Cassandra’s, “it’s the most beautiful gift I’ve ever gotten.”

Taking in the moment, taking in the warmth of Christine’s touch, Cass was hesitant to move in response, but she at last did. Because like the moment itself, the change was right, it was good. It was terrifying, but it was what was needed.

And Christine did not break away or stiffen as Cassandra wrapped her arms around Christine’s waist and they held each other, forehead to forehead, like pieces of a puzzle that learned how to fit.

They just took the moment to take a terrifying step forward. As easy and as difficult as learning a sonnet.

#SaphSep2017 #writing #batfic #Cassandra Cain #Christine Montclair #Cassandra x Christine