#it's been slam city at work and i am the ball that was getting slammed around

[paimonial-rage]

16 - thoma, lisa (idk i'm in love with this woman no matter how sus everyone thinks she is), diluc

[Character Analysis Ask Meme]

What’s the best way to win Thoma’s heart?

Unlike most others, there is not a simple and clean-cut way to winning Thoma’s heart. Thoma is the type to fall for the whole of a person, not just for a select few qualities. Like a seed that needs to be consistently watered in order to grow, Thoma needs time and consistency. He needs time to truly see you as someone he can fall for. That being said, even if he falls, don’t expect his heart to belong to you. As it is, there is something that already owns the whole of Thoma’s loyalties and attention. He is not in a place where he can give away his heart freely. What would make him willing to give it up? It’s hard to say. 

What’s the best way to win Lisa’s heart?

Lisa, at her core, is a simple person. She is the person she presents to the world, and if there’s one thing she’s never hidden, it’s her love for cute people. It’s not surprising, then, that it’s cute people that she finds herself particularly attracted to. But it’s best to keep in mind that cuteness is not confined merely to physical appearances. It is a state of being. Even the most burly of people can be the cutest things in the world.

If you don’t consider yourself the cutest, it always helps being interested in her first. Why? Well, you can’t expect her not to notice and leave you be. Expect attempts to fluster you while acting coy. There’s nothing cuter than a blushing and flustered expression caused solely by her, after all. And if there’s one thing she loves, it’s cute people.

What’s the best way to win Diluc’s heart?

What puts Diluc at a higher difficulty than most is his reclusion from others. While Diluc treats his workers with gratitude and respect, well… it’s safe to say that he doesn’t exactly have the most friends. Those that know him well that it’s not due to his personality, but because of personal choice. Thus, if there’s anything that you need to be to win this man’s heart, it’s persistence. Even when he pushes you away, you will need to stand your ground and enforce yourself as a constant in his life, as a friend. Once you’re able to get past that first hurdle, the path to his heart really will not be too far away. 

#genshin x reader #lisa #thoma #diluc #thoma x reader #lisa x reader #diluc x reader #THIS TOOK SO LONG I AM SO SORRY #it's not the best either but i felt really bad for making you wait #it's been slam city at work and i am the ball that was getting slammed around #thoma is a really interesting case as a whole #most people have select qualities that'll make them fall but thoma isn't that kind of person. it's kind of a combination of very many thing #but even then thoma is an extremely loyal person. to give his heart away would be a conflict of interest #even if you were part of the yashiro commission/kamisato estate dating you would take away time and energy that could be spent for the clan #i truly don't know what would make him cave #i think it would be a case by case basis #as for lisa regardless of what happens she wins #you're either cute from the start or she will make you cute #that being said does she fall in love with you because you are cute? not necessarily #you being cute is what causes her to notice your existence. and it's in noticing your cuteness that she will eventually notice /you/ #does that make sense? #and as for diluc actually a lot of different personalities could work for him tbqh #you could be sweet or annoying or whatever and it probably could work #the common variable in every case is persistence #you need to both be persistent to be a consistent in his life (see what i did there?) #that being said i do want to key into the fact that not all personalities have the trait of persistence #it's usually associated with people that are caring nosy friendly energetic etc #so it's within that group of personalities that would be the most likely to win his heart #with diluc it's a very much an 'opposites attract' sort of situation #i want to say that its very much an attraction and longing for the innocence and hope that was so cruelly stolen from him

[fictionalwh0ree]

hii ml!! i love your work so so much! i was just wondering if you could do billie comforting female reader with a panic attack?

if not no worries and tysm for all your works!!

paparazzi- billie eilish

summary: you thought you would be safe from the paparazzi at 2:30 am, but they find you. the situation quickly becomes too overwhelming. thankfully, your girlfriend knows exactly what you need.

word count: 790

warnings: panic attack, anxiety

a/n: here you go, hope u enjoy itt <;33

billie eilish masterlist | main masterlist

cameras flashed everywhere. left. right. front. back. the blinding light always in your face. each click sounded louder than the next. the space between you and them feeling smaller and smaller. each step was harder to take, each breath shallower and more forced.

all you had wanted to do was go out with your girlfriend. all you wanted was a quiet trip to your favourite late night food place. you begged her, she said it was risky, but you pushed her, saying it would be okay, saying that 2:30 am was too early for any paparazzi to be awake and out, but you were wrong. los angeles was one city that never slept.

everything was okay at first. you had driven to one of the few vegan restaurants that was open so late into the night, a relaxing aura in the car as calm music played from the radio. you were both in matching pj pants and baggy t-shirts, no makeup on or anything. it was perfect. you got to the restaurant, ordered, and ate with no problem whatsoever. you had even taken a moment to rub it in her face that you had been right, but you spoke too soon. within seconds of having stepped outside of the store, paparazzi were swarming you, their cameras out in your faces as they yelled questions.

billie was well aware of your anxiety issues, she knew you would be overwhelmed from the minute she saw them approaching you, but to be fair, who wouldn’t be? you tried the tricks your therapist had taught you as you walked towards your car. you tried to focus on your breathing, but the questions and loud clicking were distracting you too much. your breaths were short and you had to force your eyes open so you could see where you were going, despite every part of you telling you to shut them tight and curl up into a ball. you kept your eyes on the ground, focusing on each step you took, reminding yourself that every step meant you were closer to being inside your safe, quiet car. you could feel billie’s gaze on you. you could picture her concerned face. nothing was helping, you didn’t remember the walk to the car being this long before, but maybe it was because you weren’t moving nearly as fast as before. the paparazzi was everywhere, you were taking a couple steps a minute, they only moved when billie yelled at them.

everything was becoming overwhelming, too many noises, too many lights, too many people. you blinked hard as you tried to fight tears, but your vision was getting blurry and your nose runny. teardrops fell directly down as you looked at your feet.

finally, you got to the car and billie opened the door for you before running to the other side. you slammed the door shut, knocking a camera that was in your face onto the ground. as soon as billie was in the car, you were out of there. she sped away from them, the noise finally calming down, but your anxiety still high. your knees were pulled up close to your chest and you hugged them tightly, resting your head on them as you fought back sobs. she only drove a couple minutes before parking somewhere by the beach and stepping out of the car. she opened the trunk and pulled two blankets that you always kept in the car out. she set one down on the trunk before going to your side of the car and pulling you to the trunk. at that point, the tears were streaming quietly down your face and you were shaking a little bit, your breathing slightly more controlled. you sat down in the trunk, now facing the ocean. she sat next to you and placed the blanket over your shoulders before putting her own arm around you.

“hey, its okay,” she whispered, her hand caressing your arm gently, “breathe with me.”

she breathed slowly, her inhales and exhales defined and well-paced. you followed her lead, closing your eyes to help you focus. after a couple minutes, you were feeling better. you looked at her, your eyes puffy and red. she smiled at you kindly, bringing her hand up to wipe some stray tears off your cheeks. she placed a kiss on your cheek before planting kisses down your jaw and neck. her soft kisses mixed with the noise of the waves crashing onto the shore helped relax you even more, your eyes heavy. you felt so much better, your shaking had subsided and your breathing had returned to normal.

“see, you’re okay,” she said.

“thank you,” you whispered.

“always mama.”

--

taglist: @lizziecuervo1996 | @vickycarvalhoo | @mulof | @estrellarimar | @ready-4-fanfiction | @caitlink26 | @augustvandyne | @l0nlyl0ve | @billiestitties | @count-orlok | @juliettexco | @nataliasknife | @mywlwwriting | @thenazwife | @h1ppieth1ngs | @shxwty43 | @lovellydolly | @niaaalovesfiction | @starskyshasmith18 | @onlyperc | @lovelyy-moonlight | @Geed3 | @blondetxxz | @mxqdii |

#billie eilish x reader #billie eilish #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish x you #wlw

[magicalqueennightmare]

It Works

(Not my gif)

(Eventual) Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

When Kol tells you of a conversation he overheard you go to confront Elijah.

Never once in your life had you ever been accused of being the smartest person on the block. You were hot headed, impulsive and stubborn. You acted before you thought half of the time and this was one of those moments you could practically hear every person you knew groaning about your temper as you stormed into the doors of the Mikaelson compound.

Klaus was the first to the door, no doubt having been closest and expected a threat from the fact that you didn't knock and the door had slammed against the wall when you walked in. “Hello Love. To what do we owe the pleasure”

You stopped a few feet from him and crossed your arms over your chest. “Is what Kol said true?” A smirk slipped onto his face “You'll have to excuse my confusion. Kol says a lot of things” you waved a hand around “That Elijah frickin tracked me down on a hunt! To what end? He watched me take on two okami, didn't help and just left me there without another word!”

You weren't sure how to react when Klaus honest to god laughed. When you looked at him like he'd grown a second head he shrugged one shoulder,his face sobering a bit. He spoke your name almost proudly, you raised an eyebrow and he was the one to motion around the room “You come storming in here, alone and angry enough to not make anyone aware of your presence beforehand which is dangerous enough then you don't blink an eye demanding answers of me. I can see why my brother fancies you”

“Cut the shit Klaus. You know I care about Rebekah. She's my friend, vampire or not she is, but I'm not a fucking pet for you Mikaelsons. I'm not something to amuse any of you. I need to know what Elijah's game is. Why follow me? Why not even tell me he was there? Why does he insist on barely speaking to me as if my mere presence is overwhelming despite the fact that he sought me out to go to the ball, despite the fact that he always manages to know wherever I am in this God forsaken city I moved to”

Klaus took a step towards you and when you didn't give any ground he smiled “I can't speak for him. He should be here any time and I will gladly stay for the spectacle of you confronting him but know I myself don't see you as a pet, amusing yes but simply because of that rage you carry. You would make a marvelous vampire” he smiled widely letting his fangs slip out just a bit “and an even better hybrid”

You shook your head “put the fangs away Klaus. I wouldn't let you near my neck under the best of circumstances” he grinned “Now that is a shame indeed” You shook your head despite the anger you'd been feeling moments before and wondered briefly if Klaus had found a way around your tattoo or maybe you'd just needed to get things off your chest and the temper mental hybrid had just been the one who got the blunt of it.

—---------

You heard footsteps and knew it was Elijah even before he walked cautiously through the still open door. He greeted you then Klaus before looking between the two of you “Did I interrupt something?”

Klaus held your gaze almost as if in a challenge. Damn him he was enjoying this, little brothers always loved having a leg up on their older brothers you guessed regardless of age or species.

You fully turned to face Elijah and froze. Since the moment you met him Elijah wore suits. Well tailored suits that would make your knees weak but damn him the man was now wearing a dark gray henley under a fitted jacket and black jeans. The slight smirk that slipped onto his face at your attention only made things worse.

You were supposed to be angry, a bit betrayed even but every thought slipped out of your mind. Those brown eyes held you in place and for a moment you had trouble remembering what had brought you to the Mikaelson home to begin with until Klaus slung an arm around your shoulders “We would like to know why you tracked her down on a hunt!”

The smirk quickly slipped from Elijah's face “I told Rebekah Kol was eavesdropping” your eyes widened at his words “REBEKAH KNEW?”

Klaus still had his arm over your shoulders and you could hear him tsk tsk “Brother, keeping secrets from her and from me I see” a flash of anger went through Elijah's eyes “Niklaus, can you allow us a few moments alone to speak?”

“If she asks me to” you turned your head just enough to look at Klaus “Please” he nodded “Very well love. Just holler if I'm needed”

—---------

You watched Klaus walk out of the room and then turned back to Elijah “Care to explain? Because right now? I want to know why you tracked me down, watched me take on two okami solo mind you then didn't even tell me you were there?”

You did your best to push down the attraction you felt for Elijah and instead to pull up that anger you'd thrown at Klaus. “Perhaps I wanted to ensure you weren't dead” you crossed your arms “Bullshit. I was only gone for a few days. Tell me the truth Elijah”

He walked towards you and for a moment you considered backing up but a big part of you refused to humor that thought. You wouldn't give ground to Klaus or Elijah. Yeah they could very well kill you and now with the initial humiliation driven anger fading the reality of this being the first time you'd been to the Mikaelson compound alone and the first time you'd been alone around Elijah drove home.

“I was unsure if you could handle what your job entails. Yes I did not intervene because as Rebekah has said that is your life and your decision to be a hunter. I just had to see for myself if you could truly handle being intertwined with this family” What happened to Klaus saying Elijah fancied you? Was that Klaus lying or was this Elijah lying? You nodded slowly “So it was what? To ensure I wasn't a safety threat to the Mikaelsons? Little human me?”

You could see the mask fall back into place. Every time you got close to figuring Elijah out that mask would fall. You'd heard stories from Rebekah of their mother's wrong doings and a certain red door. You should be afraid of him yet you weren't. He gave a small nod so you smiled humorlessly “Good to know”

—--------

You decided at that moment if he wanted to pull a mask down so could you. You had years worth of practice hiding your emotions under layers of sass and vague threats. You may not have the years he did but you had always been quick to think on your toes so you plastered the closest thing to a real smile you could muster before saying “And you also now know I can hold my own against supernatural beings so even better”

He chuckled lightly “That I do. I must admit I was impressed” you bowed your head mockingly “Here's hoping I never have to go toe to toe with you however if you're ever up for sparring it may be fun” a grin spread across his face but before he could say anything else your phone started ringing. You dug it out of your jacket pocket and saw Alicia's name “I've got to take this. Tell Klaus I said bye and tell Bek I'll see her later”

The next few weeks passed with a repertoire forming between you and Elijah. Light flirting, lots of sarcasm and some veiled threats abounded. It worked because it made your attraction to him less awkward and took away a source of amusement for Klaus.

You had found balance in your life. Between hunting and your friends in that world and being close with the Mikaelsons. It worked so why question it?

Why

#elijah mikaelson fanfiction #elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson fic #elijah mikaelson x reader #the originals fanfiction

[museywrites]

Xiantober 2023 - Day 7: Biker!Xian

Word Count: 957 Pairing: Wangxian Tags: Biker Wei Ying, Bunny keeper Lan Zhan

The rev of his bike gave Wei Ying the greatest feeling in the world. It stood for so much. For an escape, for speed, for freedom. There was nothing he loved more than hitting the long winding roads leading out of the city in the middle of the night, enjoying the way the wind whipped around him. 

A way to just get away from his life, from his problems. 

Tonight was one such night. Riding through the dark, barely lit streets that he knew like the back of his hand. It was liberating. It was home. 

He had gotten in trouble at work again, and he just wanted to get away. So, as soon as he had the chance, he hopped on his bike and drove out of the city. Was he going a little too fast? 

Yes. 

Was he prepared for someone to be counting in the middle of the street in the middle of nowhere? 

No. 

So when his headlight reflected off of the pure white and pale blue of someone’s clothes in the middle of the street, Wei Ying had to slam on the breaks, his bike swerving off of the road and into the bushes. With the impact, Wei Ying flew over the handlebars and straight into a thick, dense pile of underbrush. 

The man from the road stood quickly, holding something small in his hands ands he hurried over. “Are you okay?!” 

“Am I okay?! What the hell were you doing in the middle of the road, in the middle of the night?!” Wei Ying sat up, completely covered in twigs and leaves. He had lucked out, that was for sure. He could have ended up with broken bones or worse. Thankfully he just had a sore shoulder. 

“I am so sorry. My rabbit got out of his hutch and I was chasing him. I had just managed to grab him when you showed up.” The man explained, carefully lifting the small white bundle of fluff in his arms.

Wei Ying wanted to scold him, but he couldn’t really blame him. He himself would have done the same if he had a pet. So instead, he just sighed and pulled his helmet off, letting his messy hair fall into place as he finally looked up at the man. 

Gorgeous dark hair, shimmering golden eyes, perfect, jade skin. He was stunning. 

“Are you certain you’re alright?” He asked once more when Wei Ying didn’t answer, holding his rabbit a little closer. 

He sighed before nodding and rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah… I’m fine…” He forced himself up and shifted over to grab his bike, making sure the vehicle was okay and undamaged. “It was partially my fault anyways, I shouldn’t have been speeding.” His shoulders sagged in relief when he saw his motorcycle was unharmed. 

“Still, please allow me to make it up to you. My home is not far from here, you can come for a cup of tea? I’m sure that accident rattled your nerves, and you can make sure you have no injuries.” 

Wei Ying was about to decline, but something told him he should agree, so he did. 

The man, Lan Zhan, as Wei Ying learned his name to be, led him back to his home not far from the road. It was a cozy little thing surrounded by woods with a large fenced-in area that was for a few fuzz balls. 

Lan Zhan explained that he had moved out here after inheriting the home from his late mother, and the large yard that came with it was perfect for raising rabbits, which he was quite fond of. Wei Ying had never been overly fond of the little fuzz balls, but after seeing the way Lan Zhan interacted with them, he decided they were quite cute. 

Or maybe it was Lan Zhan, but he wasn’t going to admit that yet. 

He was served tea and Lan Zhan insisted he removed his jacket so he could check for any injuries, and Wei Ying couldn’t deny that those strong, careful fingers gliding over his arms and back felt nice. 

Though the lingering touches were gone far too soon as Lan Zhan deemed him clear of any physical, external injuries. 

The pair sat for several hours, talking about everything and anything as the time ticked by without either noticing. They lost themselves in each other’s company, learning about one another as if that was the only thing that mattered. 

Wei Ying had been reluctant to leave that night, but he promised to visit soon. 

And he did.

Every weekend he would drive his motorcycle to that cozy house in the middle of nowhere and sit with Lan Zhan for hours. 

Every weekend turned to every other day, and every other day turned into Wei Ying staying there more often than not. 

When Lan Zhan was comfortable enough, Wei Ying took him for a drive on his bike and he loved the way Lan Zhan took to the feeling of the wind in his hair, though he very quietly reminded Wei Ying to be careful. 

Eventually, Wei Ying’s riding became minimal. He no longer needed an escape from the hellish life of the city as he moved in with Lan Zhan, spending most days curled up against Lan Zhan’s broad chest or working as a free-lance coder from the cozy comfort of their middle-of-nowhere home. 

They still took rides occasionally, but they were much less stress-relief and more for the joy of the moment. 

Wei Ying knew he would be forever grateful for that late night ride through those winding roads where he nearly crashed into the most gorgeous man in the world. 

They still laugh about it to this day. 

#xiantober2023 #lan wangji #wei wuxian #wangxian #mdzs #museywrites

[sataniquepanique]

Painkiller - Part 4 Cries In The Night

Summary: It's the end of the year, and Eddie goes missing after Chrissy's death. You are the only one who knows where he could be hiding.

Genre: slow burn, fluff

Warnings: language, mentions of drug use

Word Count: 2.2k

Notes: I have one final part after this, and yes it is finally smut (I just love slow burn romance, okay?)

Six months had passed since you started your senior year in Hawkins. It was honestly pretty hard to believe that in less than 2 months you would finally be graduating. You had applied to a few colleges in the surrounding area, but the one you really wanted to get into was in New York City, back on the East Coast. You hadn’t told anyone, especially Eddie, that you had even applied there, worried about his reaction. Spring break officially starts tomorrow, and you can’t wait to spend an entire week with Eddie. Your feelings for him had grown over the past few months, but you couldn’t muster up the courage to admit them to yourself, let alone him, over the fear that he wouldn’t reciprocate. He never looked at other girls, apart from the occasional passing glance, and you could never tell if it was lustful or just because he had sold drugs to them in the past. 

“You still coming to my art show tonight?” You look up at him from your lunch. 

“…I wouldn’t miss it for the world…” he said, distracted by a magazine he was reading. 

“Can you believe this shit?” He mutters, flipping the page and reading the headline out loud, “Dungeons and Dragons…studies link violent behavior to the game, saying it promotes satanic worship, ritual sacrifice, sodomy, suicide and even…murder!” He snarks as he slams the magazine down onto the lunch table. He was really revved up today. “We’re the freaks because…we like to play a fantasy game?” He stepped up onto the table, his voice getting louder. “But as long as you're into band, or science, or parties, or a game where you toss BALLS into LAUNDRY BASKETS!” He shouted over towards the basketball team’s table, where Jason stood up and yelled some vague threats back at him. Eddie turned around after taunting Jason, and walked his way back down the table towards you. “It’s forced conformity. That’s what’s KILLING the KIDS!” He exaggerates as he hops off the table. “You boys…” he points to Mike and Dustin, “…are the future of Hellfire, you need to keep the legacy going. Jeff graduates this year, Gareth has a year and a half, and me…this is my year. ’86 baby! Before you know it I’m gonna walk that stage, flip Principal Higgins the bird, snatch that diploma and run like hell outta here.” He came and sat back next to you. 

“Didn’t you say that last year?” Gareth says. 

“…and the year before?” Jeff chimes in. 

“Yeah, and I was full of shit!” Eddie snaps back. 

“Eddie, are you really going to graduate this time?” You look at him suspiciously. You had tried to help him this year, studying and making flash cards and pushing him to try and apply himself. He wasn’t stupid by any means, he just didn’t feel like doing the actual work. He promised that the two of you would graduate together this year though. 

“I am army crawling my way toward a D in Ms. O’Donnells. If I don’t blow her final, I’m outta here.” He says, flashing you a huge smile. 

“Eddie…a D? Seriously?” You groan. He just keeps smiling, unconcerned. The bell rings, and you stand up and throw your bag over your shoulder, “I’m going to be setting up my gallery wall after school for the show tonight, so no need to wait up. I’ll see you around 8 at the show…?” 

Eddie looks up at you, his deep brown eyes making your heart flutter,  “Like I said, I wouldn’t miss it even if the world ended.”

The end-of-year art show was being held in the library, since the championship basketball game was occupying the gym. It was the culmination of everything you had been working on in your AP Art class all year. Eddie understood how much this meant to you, so he didn’t mind when you bowed out of tonight’s Hellfire meeting. You wait by your gallery wall, smiling as parents and students walk by and scan your work, talking about how talented everyone is. You check your watch, 8:15pm. Eddie hasn’t shown up yet. Hellfire Club ended at 8, so he should’ve been here by now. The show goes until 9:30, maybe he just got held up with one of the Hellfire kids, he still has time to get here. You spend the next hour nervously tapping your foot, arms crossed, staring at the door waiting for him to walk in. 

9:15 and still no sight of Eddie. You’re furious. How dare he? He knew how important this was to you. You grabbed your denim jacket and left the show in a hurry. When you get home, you ask your mom if anyone called for you as you throw your car keys on the counter, she says no and you roll your eyes. Once upstairs in your room, you toss your jacket onto the floor in anger and lay on your bed, furious and upset. You fall asleep thinking of all of the things you’re going to say to Eddie tomorrow when you see him.

You and Eddie had plans to meet at your spot in the woods the next day at dusk to celebrate the first day of Spring Break with a smoke session. You showed up a little before sunset and sat at the picnic table, trying to steady your breathing. You were still pissed from the night before. Time passes, and Eddie still hasn’t shown. The sun had already set, and you were sitting in the dark woods alone. You’re not doing this again. You’re not waiting around for some guy that clearly wants nothing to do with you. You stand up and walk out of the woods to your car, trying to control yourself from driving to his trailer to kick his ass. 

As you enter the lot outside of the woods, you see a BMW ripping into the parking lot, coming to a screeching halt in front of you. Dustin hangs out the front passenger side and screams “GET IN! GET IN NOW!” You slide into the backseat, confused and alarmed, next to Robin and Max who you recognize from school. Steve Harrison, Dustin’s “best older male friend” (his words, not yours), is in the drivers seat and tears out of the parking lot while you look between Dustin and the rest of the group. 

“…does anyone want to tell me what the fuck is going on?” You ask in an annoyed tone. “Eddie’s in trouble…” Dustin says, looking back at you. You feel the blood drain from you face. He looks over to Max, who then fills you in on the events from last night: Eddie bringing Chrissy to his trailer, Chrissy dying, the police looking for him as a suspect, and Eddie going missing. You shake your head in disbelief, shoving the thoughts of him with another girl to the back of your brain. 

“Eddie wouldn’t kill anyone or anything. He didn’t do this.” You say desperately, feeling awful for being so furious with him.

“We know, which is why we need to find him and help him,” Dustin responds, “Do you know where he could be?” 

You think for a second. Where would he go where he knew no one would think to look? 

“…Reefer Rick.” You blurt out, everyone staring at you, confused. “He’s at Reefer Rick’s house! He gets his weed from him.” You say as you lean forward to give Steve directions. 

You pull up to Reefer Rick’s lakeside house and you scan the surrounding area. It’s pitch black, and the house is dark. You and the rest of the group walk up to the front door, shining flashlights into the windows. 

“…I don’t see anything…” Max whispers as she peers into a window. 

“REEFER RICK! REEFER RICK!” Dustin starts banging on the front door while Steve shushes him. 

You walk to the corner of the house and look around back. You notice the door to the boat house is cracked open a little. “Guys….” You motion to the boathouse. Robin pushes past you and leads the group over toward the lake. She slowly pushes the boathouse door and you all cautiously follow inside. It’s empty. There’s no one inside, except for a rowboat bobbing along in the water. Steve grabs an oar and starts poking around inside the tarp covered boat, while the rest of you shine flashlights around looking for clues. 

“…hey, look over here. Someone’s been in here.” Max says, holding up an empty bottle. You walk over to her to inspect further, while Steve continues to jam his oar into the tarp.

“…maybe he heard us? Got spooked, and ran…” Robin says. 

“Don’t worry, Steve will get him with his oar!” Dustin muses sarcastically. Steve gives him an annoyed chuckle, “I know you think you’re being funny Henderson, but considering almost everyone in this room has nearly died about a hundred times, personally, I don’t find it funny—” 

Suddenly, someone pops out from under the tarp and slams Steve against the wall, broken bottle to his throat. 

It’s Eddie. You’ve never seen him like this, and your heart stops the second you see him. He’s visibly distraught and terrified, hand shaking as he holds the glass shard to Steve’s neck. “WHOA, WHOA, WHOA EDDIE! IT’S ME! IT’S DUSTIN!” He holds his hands up to Eddie, trying to calm him down. “Steve, why don’t you drop the oar?” Dustin says calmly, “We’re on your side, we’re here to help!” 

Steve throws the oar down beside him.

“…Eddie?” You call quietly from the back of the group. He snaps his gaze over to you and immediately drops the bottle to the floor when he see’s you. You push past the others and wrap your arms around him, squeezing as tight as you can. He grabs back, one hand clutching the back of your jacket, the other tangled in your hair. He’s crying softly into the side of your neck. “Oh Eddie…what happened” you whisper. 

“You won’t believe me…” he sniffles, pulling back to look at you. 

“Try us.” Max chimes in behind you. You put your hand on Eddies cheek and he leans into it, “you’re safe now” you promise. 

You spend the night with Eddie in the boathouse to make sure he was okay. You slept on the wooden floor, wrapped in his leather jacket, holding onto each other. 

Eddie refused to let you stay with him the next day, after he found out the police were officially searching for him as a murder suspect. He said he didn’t want you to get mixed up into all of it, and forced you to leave to go back home no matter how hard you protested. Steve drove you home that afternoon after he came to drop off food and supplies to Eddie. Once you sat in the passenger seat you broke down in muffled sobs, face buried in your hands. You had held it together for Eddie’s sake, but with him out of sight you couldn’t hold the fear of losing him inside of you anymore. 

Steve dropped you off at your house, giving you a hug and a sad smile as you went inside. 

You didn’t hear from anyone after that. 

The next 48 hours were filled with panic and worry as you watched the entire town of Hawkins turn Eddie into a murderer. You were questioned by the police multiple times, regarding him and the rest of your friends, each interrogation ending up with you screaming at them that they were wrong. 

You had never cried this much in your life. You assumed the worst after 2 days of not hearing from Eddie, or from anyone for that matter, and you were inconsolable. You finally decided to get high one night, hoping it would help you fall asleep and not have nightmares. Laying in bed, you started to drift off but are startled awake when you hear tapping on your window. Assuming that you’re hallucinating, you ignore it you and roll over, your eyes met with the photo of the Hellfire Club framed on your nightstand. You stare at it, glance over your friends faces, until you meet Eddie’s. His smile warms your heart, but also breaks it into a million pieces. The tapping starts again, and you get up to see what’s going on. You open the window and peer out to find Eddie standing below, soaking wet throwing little rocks at your window. “Christ…Eddie…” you motion for him to climb up the lattice, and he clamors through your window. You take him in, noticing that he’s covered in blood and scratches. He looks like he’s been through hell and back. He just stands there, defeated. You lead him over to your bed and peel off his jacket, having him lay down while you curl up next to him. You start to cry as you trace your fingers over his arms and see how cut up he is. 

“…I thought you had died…” you whisper. He groans as you accidentally touch one of the cuts, “almost…but I had to make it back here…I couldn’t leave you alone.” He kisses the top of your head as you bury your face in his chest. You want to hear the story of what happened, about the trauma that Eddie has been through the past few days. But for now, he was safe and you both drift off to sleep in each others arms. 

#Eddie munson #Eddie Munson fanfic #Eddie Munson edit #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfic #Steve harrington #Eddie Munson x reader

[breedaboyd]

Day 17 ~ Pushed Too Far

(Gif by me.)

Prompt: Edging.

Pairing: Stephen Tynan × Damien Brooks (M!OC).

Word Count: 3.4k+

CW: Anal fingering, dom/sub, edging, facials, oral sex, spanking.

The mid-afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the city of Athens, filtering through the blinds of Stephen Tynan's office on the third floor of the US embassy. The room is adorned with a couple knick-knacks from Greece, a blend of ancient history and modern diplomacy. A framed photograph of the Parthenon overlooks Tynan's polished oak desk, where neat stacks of papers await his attention. But he's taking a break from work at the moment.

Stephen's hauled over his desk, pants and boxers pulled down around his knees, as two fingers push deep into him. He's keening and moaning and his glasses are crooked on his nose from where he's been frantically kissing Damien Brooks, a diplomat from the UK embassy. It's a welcome respite from the paperwork, his erection straining against his belly, just shy of being fully hard. There's a glimmering sheen of sweat visible on his forehead but his clothes otherwise remain neatly intact.

"That wide enough, Stephen, or are you gonna need more?" Damien asks as he scissors his fingers and hears the other man moan.

"Just...one more... One more should be good."

"You want the stretch, don't you, love?"

"Fuck. Obviously." Stephen whimpers. Damien adds a third finger and slowly inches his fingers in and out of the other man, enjoying the feeling of being tightly pressed inside him. "Ugh, okay... Okay, please. Damien, I'm ready." Stephen says impatiently.

"Wow, someone's getting needy." Damien says with a cocky smirk.

"Shut up!" But then those three fingers paw at Stephen's prostate and he's mewling, clawing at the edge of his desk and rocking back on Damien's hand. "Please, please, please..."

"No, we can't be all messy and sweaty for the meeting we have in..." He checks the watch on the wrist of his free hand. "Fifteen minutes."

"Then stop doing this now!" He yelps but Damien just slides those fingers in again and it keeps him pinned, desperate for the pleasure, clinging to the hope that the man behind him might have mercy and finally fuck him. But there's no hope. Damien works Stephen open, bullying his prostate, as the other hand wraps around the brunette's dick. Stephan bucks into the grip but it's nowhere near tight enough to get him off. Damien's teasing the life out of him and loving every second of it. "You're such...a bastard...y'know that, Dames?" He hisses and Damien leans down, tonguing at the mark just below Stephen's collar. That little kitten lick and a bite manages to unravel him a little. His legs start to shake, the sensation building even though Damien refuses to give him anything substantial.

"Am I, though? You asked me to come over early. Isn't this what you wanted?" He squeezes his fingers in deep, pushing at Stephen's prostate and making the other man see stars.

"Yes! N-No! ... Shut up!" He's so close to cumming, just on the edge and it's fucking with his head, making his eyes roll and his hands tremble. "F-Fuck, it's— Hnnggh!" He slams a hand over his mouth, whimpering behind his palm, desperate not to out them.

"Aw, c'mon, Stevie. Don't cover your mouth, you'll spoil the fun." Then the bastard slides his hand slowly down the base of Stephen's dick, fingertips skimming the throbbing vein on the underside, trailing a fingertip behind his balls and delighting in the way the brunette's hips stutter. Then the hand grabs his sac and gives it a firm squeeze, not to mention the fingers going to town, stretching his ass open.

"Argh, no, no, no, f-fuck, Damien, I— Hnggg... I c-can't... Ohhhh, God. Ohhmygodohmygodohmygod. Jesus fuckin' Christ...!" He keens, trying his hardest to be quiet, a shiver rattling through him. He wants to slap the stupid grin off the other man's face because it's all Damien's fault that he's like this, straddling the gap between orgasm and overstimulation.

And then there's a sound and it's Damien's phone. He reaches into his pocket with the hand that's not buried knuckle-deep in Stephen's ass and answers the call.

"Damien Brooks. Oh, hey, how are y— Yeah. Uh-huh." He doesn't ease up, the fingers sliding away and suddenly pumping so roughly into him that Stephen can't help but choke on a sob. The long fingers inside him move like pistons and Stephen grinds his teeth, covering his face with both hands as he's wracked with aftershocks of pleasure. He's oversensitive and tired but still leaking from his erection. He needs — so needs — to cum but Damien's talking. He never stops fucking Stephen while he talks on the phone, fingers just working his prostate mercilessly. "Yeah. Yeah. Sounds great. I can do that. Uh-huh. Mhm. I'm actually with Stephen right now so we'll head on over. Yep. Yeah, absolutely. Alright then. See you soon." Then Damien hangs up, pockets the phone and eases his fingers from Stephen's loose hole. The American's knees are trembling and he can feel his cock throbbing, a few drops of precum still dribbling from the slit, creating a damp patch on the carpet.

"God-fucking-dammit, Damien." He breathes through heavy panting.

"We need to be heading over to the bar now to meet Alexei and Jenna and don't you go finishing yourself off while I'm in the bathroom either."

"Asshole."

"C'mon, wash up and you can scowl at me in the elevator." Damien winks, halfway out the door.

"I didn't even get to cum, you fu—"

"Always so greedy, Stevie. Don't worry, I'll let you cum after we've had a drink." Then Damien steps out, listening to Stephen's groan echo down the hallway after him. It's an indication that this is going to be a very, very long night.

Thankfully, the beer garden is nice and airy, which is just what Stephen and Damien need as they order two bottles of Greek beer. Jenna's opted for some locally-produced wine. She's a small thing; slim-faced and round-shouldered, with gentle blue eyes and dark freckled skin that screams that she spends most of her time outside. Despite only really knowing her from official meetings, Stephen's always found her pleasant to speak with. Alexei, however, is a bitter piece of shit, all schedules and policies and he just gets a soda water. Neither of them are much fun though, they're just co-workers after all. Damien, on the other hand, has this habit of gripping at Stephen's thigh when they're sat together in front of people. His hand inches a little further north and Stephen's brain dissolves into static before he remembers the purpose of their meeting.

"What was that convention you were telling me about the other day, Alexei? Something about tourists or..." Damien asks.

"It's been an event that occurs annually for the past few years. My government believes it would be a good way to raise awareness of different cultural celebrations and expand the image of our beautiful country, rather than simply offering travel opportunities." Alexei explains.

"I agree completely. Stephen, did Damien tell you that we're already organising some more activities to help engage people with the history of the regions?" Jenna asks and Alexei makes a face.

"No, he didn't." Stephen cuts in, with a strained smile. "But it's such a great way to celebrate the city. Honestly, I think it's a great idea."

"Great, we can liaise more when the papers are available, hm?" Jenna says, a smile curving her thin lips. But Stephen's head is still swimming with want, his appetite still not sated from before, in his office.

"Damien, isn't this something that could be really impressive for your British tourists? Didn't you have a recent research meeting, as well?" Alexei asks.

"Oh, that was last week but—"

"Excellent, so perhaps you'll put in another funding request? The money is currently split evenly but having extra funds for one particular region could be more useful." Fucking numbers. Stephen scoffs quietly into his beer and the hand on his thigh squeezes slightly. For a moment, he thinks he's actually gone and offended the Brit but then he feels Damien's fingers shift higher and rub against the bulge in his trousers and he nearly chokes.

"Sorry, I'm...feeling a little queasy." Stephen says dismissively, quickly taking another sip of beer to hide his embarrassment. "Damien, if there's no budget left, maybe a fundraiser or a personal appeal would—"

"Have you tried garlic pills?" Alexei suggests, narrowing his eyes in a way that makes the glare bounce off his wireframe glasses. "I would avoid sausage. Or is it salmon? No, it must be feta..."

"Alexei, the feta's just fine." Stephen replies, trying to stop the way the colour is flushing up his neck. And this is just a regular meeting between the four diplomats.

An hour goes by and the sky is painted violet. As the group finishes their drinks, they make idle chit chat and decide that a simple conference would be suitable for the festival. Calendars are filled and everyone walks away happy. Well, everyone except Stephen, of course. He's tired and sweaty and vaguely aware that Damien owes him a fucking orgasm.

As they walk back to the US embassy, the Brit saunters happily at his side, as if he's not completely wrecked Stephen's nerves all afternoon. He's whistling the way that Stephen hates and they're definitely drawing attention from passers-by in the street. Damien's cockiness is the straw that breaks the camel's back and, when they're nearing the embassy building, the American snaps. He grabs Damien's shirt collar and presses him to the wall in a nearby alley, trapping the (only slightly) taller man. He's got this bright, smarmy look in his pretty blue eyes that go dark the moment Stephen strikes; he knows what just happened. Stephen's cages him in, breathing hard against his neck.

"You've pushed your luck, Dames." He murmurs against the other man's throat and Damien swallows audibly, knowing he's invoked Stephen's ire.

"I-In fairness, Stevie, I thought you'd be finished by the time we had to leave, y'know? So, I tried to just—"

"Stop. Talking. You don't get to say a Goddamn thing." He bites back and Damien shuts his trap, teeth snapping together with the speed he closes his jaw. The brunette leans in close, voice a low purr. "My office. Right now." He releases the Brit but it barely makes a difference. Damien has this slack expression on his face — half-horrified, half-aroused — as Stephen leads the way into the embassy.

Thankfully, when they arrive at the door to Stephen's office, it's unlocked and all the pieces of paper on his desk have been tidied away. He stalks over to the mahogany drawers and rips the top one open to reveal a couple envelopes and his old passport, as well as a handkerchief-wrapped set of cuffs and a bottle of lotion that are designed for private use between him and his man. Oh, his kissable, fuckable asshole of a man. He takes out the lotion and the cuffs and throw them on the desk.

"Over the desk, Brooks."

"Look, Stephen, I really—"

"Now." He bites back and Damien huffs out his name under his breath, a desperate appeal for clemency. "Dames... I'm giving you twenty seconds. Twenty." Damien glances around the room, like he might find an escape route. "...Nineteen." Then the Brit's suddenly grabbing the chair, shoving it aside and hopping over the desk. And, only five seconds later, he's already lost his pants and boxers, his shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest.

He bends himself over the desk, feeling the way Stephen's hands find his ass. Then they're spreading him open and he expects a couple of fingers inside. Instead, there's a firm palm cracking across the curve of his ass. Damien can't help the surprised help that leaves him, his back arching and nails scraping at the surface of the desk. "So, what was that earlier, Dames?" Stephen asks, palming at the Brit's ass. "Did you think I wouldn't finish on time?" Another crack that leaves a red mark on his bare ass. The air is suddenly electrified and the sharp blow has awakened a part of the taller man's brain that usually only wakes up if Stephen decides he wants to top.

"Oh, fuck, S-Stephen, I'm sorry! I wanted to tease you a bit, I didn't—" Then another firm blow. It's making his whole body sing. Stephen Tynan is the only person in the world who can render him pliant and incoherent this way, on the verge of begging already. It's not enough but he's so, so in love with how he ends up here. Another smack that has him biting his lip to stop the cry falling from his lips. Fuck, the door isn't even closed! "Stephen, I'm— Fuck, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, you better be sorry, Damien. Have I ever treated you the way you treated me today, huh?"

"N-No, never, Stephen."

"What am I gonna do with you, Damien Brooks?"

"Oh, God, Stevie, not my full— Mnh!" And in a swift movement, Stephen's cuffed Damien's wrists behind his back, his hair pulled roughly enough to cut his sentence short. Then a smack rings out, again and again, the muscles in Stephen's arm working as he pushes the Brit's shirt tails up his back with his free hand. His pale skin glows a delectable shade of pink and Damien's mewling quietly with each shot to his backside. He can feel how hot his skin is, the ache becoming a pleasant sting and he relishes in every sensation.

Just as Damien's getting used to it, though, Stephen stops and his eyes are watering as his lover trails a hand across the soft backs of his thighs. There's something about the ghost of contact that gets the Brit's heart pumping, knowing the pain's going to come soon. He doesn't have to wait long. A sharp, stinging blow makes him jerk forwards, followed by a crack that echoes through the room, tears brimming. And then, Stephen rakes his nails along the reddened skin, making the taller man moan out, the sound echoing out into the hall. He's powerless, exposed, the man above him a force he's chosen and can't resist. All he can do is lie back and enjoy the ride.

"Gimme a colour, Dames."

"Guh... Green, Stephen. Green, g-green, green... Fuck, please..."

"You wanna cum, baby?" Another sharp smack echoes through the room and Damien's mind grows hazy as Stephen keeps reigning down blow after blow, turning his skin a fierce shade of scarlet.

"Pl-Please, Mister Tynan... Please...let me... Hnngh..." That always gets him a harsh spank; a reminder of who's in charge. It hurts so good and Stephen keeps at it, letting his arm flop down when he's broken the tall brunette into shuddering cries.

"I'll think about it." Stephen murmurs as he sits back in his leather desk chair, just admiring his handiwork. He'd be a lot more hard-hearted if Damien wasn't his man, his slutty, needy whore of a man.

"Get down here." Stephen orders, tapping his foot and nodding the to space between his legs. He can already tell that Damien's having trouble following the instructions with his hands cuffed behind his back but he does it anyway. "Good. Now, let's finish what you started." He reaches down to unbuckle his pants, pulling them open and carefully untucking his dick from his underwear. Then he watches Damien's eyes widen. He's so clearly hungry for it, chewing on the inside of his bottom lip. He might be used to fucking Stephen and making him cum hard but his ability to swallow everything down is just shy of perfect.

Before Damien can really think about it, Stephen grabs the back of his head and pushes him down. "Fuck, yeah... There we go, Dames... Swallow it all, like a good boy. Yeah... Take it deep... Theeeere you go..." He murmurs. His tone is soft and encouraging, hands stroking his partner's face as the other brunette falls apart. He's choked by it, tongue working the underside while his nose presses to the wiry, dark curls at the base of Stephen's cock.

Damien might talk big and act big but, when it comes down to it, he sucks cock like a fucking champ. Stephen's had him every way he can think; held him down, spitroasted him, stuffed him up, choked him, made him beg. And the best bit is that Damien loves it all. God, Stephen just can't ever get over how much the Brit is a little, fucking freak. He looks so damn good; blissed-out and mellow, tears streaming down his cheeks, saliva all over his chin and it's just adorable.

His stamina always catches Stephen off guard, though. And this isn't an exception. The brunette's well and truly enthralled, watching his man choke around his thick cock, looking him in the eye. He almost stops, because Damien's eyes have glazed over and he's stopped moaning or tapping out, his chest heaving, and all he can do is drool. Mister Big-Talk until he has a cock in his mouth. Then he just looks blissed-out and totally absent, like he's slipped into some other world, and Stephen can use his sloppy, slutty mouth like a fleshlight. "Gonna cum all over your pretty, little face and you're gonna go home smelling of cum like the cock-hungry slut you are." And Stephen doesn't last long because he's been hanging onto this climax for an hour already.

He laces his fingers in Damien's blonde locks, pulling his head away, as Stephen jerks himself to cumming. "Keep that mouth open, baby. You wanna taste some of it, right?" He grins, breath coming quick as his chest heaves. He can feel his hips bucking as he teeters on the edge, the sticky slick of saliva covering his fist. "Fuck... Want you to see what you did." He huffs as he edges that little bit closer. And with a few more strokes, he cums; thick, white strands of cum landing on Damien's face, painting over his lips, across his nose, decorating his pale, sweaty skin. And, with what feels like the last bit of his strength, Stephen grabs the Brit's chin.

Then he realises. A long, sticky strand of saliva is hanging from Damien's bottom lip, nearly reaching the floor, pooling between his legs. His mouth is still wide open and his eyes are still watering, fixed up on the man who just wrecked him. Stephen can't help the burst of filthy pride that rushes through his veins. "That's a pretty face, Dames. Nice and messy, just how you like." He says gently, releasing his grip and letting Damien fold between his legs, panting. After a good, hard session with some heavy ropes or a particularly naughty punishment, it takes a couple of minutes for Damien to come back to himself. He kneels there, getting his breath back, watching the floor and waiting for the pounding in his chest to slow...

When Damien comes back to himself, he's sore and red and covered in thick, creamy cum. The aftercare starts slowly, with Stephen uncuffing Damien's wrists and grabbing some tissues from his desk to clean up with. He wipes the thick ropes of semen from his lover's face and chin. Oh, he just looks to perfect, all ruined and tired and fucked out.

"Was... Was it good for you, Mister Tynan?" Damien manages to croak. The scratchiness of his throat already a reminder of what he'd just taken.

"It's always good, baby." He chuckles, helping him stand. "How you feeling, Dames? Ass sore?"

"Yeah... Fuck... Did a number on me this time, Stevie."

"C'mon, lemme take you home, handsome, and then you can get your own back." Stephen winks and, despite being a fucking mess, Damien smiles as he kisses him on the cheek.

"... Gonna hold you to that." Damien sighs. "... And don't expect to walk straight tomorrow morning."

Then, sure enough, the next day, everyone keeps stopping Stephen in the hallways to ask if he's alright, if he's slept funny or if something's happened because, fuck, he's limping and aching like a motherfucker. And every time it happens, every one of those embarrassing questions, he just smiles the smuggest fucking grin that says it all. Stupid sexy British bastard...

#character: stephen tynan #source: beckett #misc: chariot writes #type: oc #misc: boydtober 2023

[telltalebatman]

a make up kiss

time to branch out a lil, revisit........ the city of zaun. yeah i still hadn't done anything w/ silco, he's on the backburner for now.

Silco paid her a visit one evening.

In hindsight, she should've known he was coming; yes, her crystal ball was exclusively just for show - but it wouldn't take a seer to know that the Eye of Zaun would like a word with her after she sold him out to a local gang. Not that his life was ever in any danger; all that Andy told them was that Silco's allergic to mint. She didn't tell them that Singed fitted him up with an antidote that he carried around with him at all times, or that Sevika was particularly good at picking up any lingering notes of mint in his food.

See? He was never in any danger. She would never allow him to come any closer to death than he already had; not after she had brought him back from near-death countless times already, to the point of having to put a spell on him to stop him from nearly dying for five damn minutes. She simply liked him too much; his dry wit, his sly smile, his hideous face.

(That, of course, she would never tell him. That was between her and her perfumed diary.)

Silco, however, seemed... Less understanding. And Andy could not blame him - many attempts had been made on his life. Many people wanted him dead. He had to kill his closest friend once; and judging from his expression as he barged into her boudoir, dripping wet from the pouring rain - he was about to have her blood on his hands as well.

"HOW COULD YOU?!" he asked her, his tone and expression equal parts outraged and heartbroken, way more heartbroken than she would've guessed. "You witch-"

"Oh, so now you acknowledge my magic?!" she refuted, jumping up from her cozy chair, not even caring that she was in her nightgown, and he was dripping all over her precious carpet. "Who gave you the right to talk to me like that anyway?!"

In response, he snarled and grabbed her by her bodice, his teeth inches away from her face.

"I gave you everything!" he shouted in her face as she screamed back at him, digging her nails into his hands. That bodice did cost money, for fuck's sake; and she did not buy it only for him to tear it to pieces. Least he could do was treat her to some dinner first. "I almost died so you could get that water - and this is how you repay me?!"

How is he STILL not over it after five years?! I didn't even ask him to go to Ismegolia with me.

"A girl has to eat," she replied, kicking him in the shin; it didn't do much, since she was barefoot. "Now get over yourself, and get out before I show you what this witch is capable of." she added angrily; and much to her surprise - it worked.

Well - partially.

Yes, he did let go of her - but he was still very much there, looming over her, dripping water all over her favorite carpet.

"You are now on your own," he said finally, holding his index finger up angrily; and her heart sunk a bit. "No more protection from me. This - this is it. You've crossed a line, witch."

With that, he turned around and left, slamming the door on his way out; and she was left alone with her thoughts.

That was one week ago.

Despite his threats, no grand cataclysm befell her little corner of Zaun; no bloodthirsty killers emerged from the shadows to put an end to her life. Seemingly, nothing had changed; with one, tiny exception.

"I'm sorry," Singed said with a remorseful headshake. "I'm afraid I can't do that."

"What do you mean, you can't?!" bewildered Andromachia asked. "It's a fucking cough syrup, not an elixir of eternal life. Is it the ingredients? I can get you the ingredients. Just say the word."

Singed let out a singular chuckle.

"You misunderstood," he said. "Your request is wholly possible. But I am afraid... Silco would not be happy with me if I kept helping you."

REALLY?!

"You cannot possibly be serious, Singed," she said angrily. "You won't help me because of Silco? What does he have to do with my cough syrup?!"

"I'm afraid that is between the two of you to discuss, not for me to decide," Singed replied with an uncharacteristically blase shrug. "Now, if you'll excuse me..."

In response, she only gritted her teeth; there was no point in trying to negotiate. What she had to do was made clear; she had to make nice with Silco.

Again.

She was on his doorstep not an hour later; her own pride be damned - she needed that cough syrup. Evening shows tended to put a strain on her throat; and she needed her voice to pay the bills. It wasn't even the first time she was in this exact situation; but hopefully - it would be the last.

"Take me to him," she said the moment Sevika opened the door and stared down at her silently.

In response, Sevika only sighed.

"I think it's high time for him to hire a butler," she said in a resigned tone, turning around and motioning for Andromachia to follow her. "Or give me a raise."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Silco said from his office the door to which were wide open. "Tell my guest to wait. I'm busy."

"We're all busy, Silco," Andy said, marching into his office; and there he was - sitting behind his desk, the surface of which she could still very vividly feel behind her back. "Can we talk?"

"If we must," he said flatly, motioning for Sevika to leave. "Make it quick. I'm bu-"

"You are not doing anything," she interrupted him; she walked up to his desk, planted her hands on the surface and stared at him. "I can see that."

"Mental work is work too," he said almost defensively, stapling his long, slender fingers together. "Anyway. What brings the ever-powerful Witch of Zaun to my humble abode?" he added with a quiet snicker; and Andromachia gritted her teeth.

"I am here to apologize," she said finally, looking him in the eye; the eye, to be precise.

In response, he raised his brow.

"Apologize?" he repeated after her. "What, pray tell, could you be apologizing for? Couldn't be the fact you sold me out to Klavier's gang. Or... Could it?"

was the leader really named klavier? or is he talking about something else? how many people did i sell his mint allergy to?

"I am sorry for selling you out to Klavier's gang," she choked out finally; pride be damned, she really needed that cough syrup. Plus - it's been a lonely few days without him. "Now please tell Singed I said sorry so he can give me my cough syrup."

His eyebrow twitched slightly, as did the corners of his lips.

"Was that really so hard to say?" he said finally with that disgusting, obnoxious, annoying, self-satisfied smirk painted on his face. "Think I could get used to hearing you apologize. Now, if I recall correctly, you once also-"

She didn't let him finish; she grabbed him by his shirt, and pulled him closer and kissed him. Partially to make him shut up - but only partially, since she did like the sound of his voice. No, that was not the real purpose of the kiss - all things considered, she really was sorry. Sure, she acted like she wasn't - but selling him out to Klavier did weigh on her conscience. All in all, he did a lot for her in past; helped her out when no one else would, all because he liked the bravado she exhibited when she tried to pickpocket him years ago, on that one fateful day.

I'm sorry, her lips said against his; I'm sorry.

I know, the fact he kissed back said. Welcome back... Sorceress.

#4.txt #arcane #silco #anyone remember him? bc i do lol #sandy

[vaovalis]

I will not be property of a nation. I will not bend my knees to an authority comprised of weak, fearful, greedy creatures that cannot even take care of their own people. I’m quite certain that some will think me arrogant for the decisions I now make, but that’s more a comment upon themselves than it ever could be upon me.  I will fly. I will dance. I will live to the freest of my abilities to do so.   I was never unwilling to compromise, but the compromises that the FBSA demand of me are too much for me to accept. In a thousand different ways, the paperwork they want me to sign is a transference of ownership from myself over myself to them over me.   I might be new here, but I wasn’t born in the dark last night, and...I’ve been dealing with demonic forces ever since I was half grown.  These people seem to have learned everything they know of contracts from the worst of the devils, along with their warped sense of ethics and ‘justice’. They mistake my eagerness to be reasonable for something else, I think.  I have lines I will not cross as well, but they think that their lines are the only lines that mean anything. I never thought myself much of a diplomat, but even I can tell that these incompetent jesters aren’t equipped to deal with anything that doesn’t just sit down, shut up and comply with their dictations.  Compromise? Their idea of compromise is that I should be the one doing all the compromising. I tend to default to respecting the homes and havens of others, especially when I am a guest.  I will not compromise upon this principle of mine, and so I will not be leaving the United States and figuratively slamming any doors behind me. Unfortunately, it seems as though the Etoile Isles really are just about the only place in this world where you can actually have a slice of freedom if you’re willing to do what it takes to take it and keep it.   I know how to live in an environment like that - I know how to FIT in a place like that. When one must choose between feeling mummified by ten millions micromanaging laws and having to fight for what you wish to have and keep, I’m going to take fighting for what I wish to have and keep every time. 

I’d rather spend the rest of my days fighting for everything I have than submit to folding myself into the tiniest ball possible and spending the rest of my days pretending to be a good, obedient little action figure whose sole purpose would be to be a useful and expendable toy for the United States’ Powers That Be. I don’t think I’m going to do that, thanks.  I won’t be picking any fights on my way out, but I wish them the absolute best of luck in figuring out how to grow up and be less of a collection of greedy, evil companies and government officials that I suspect might have come straight from some hell or another. It’s their house though. They may keep their rules as they like, and the people of the United States?  If they ever get tired of being wood for the fire over which their wealthy warm their hands, they’ll do something about it.  And if they never do, I guess they like it that way as well; either way, not my circus, not my monkeys. And not my war to start or concern myself with feeling as twisted up about as I’ve been doing these past whiles.   So, today I begin scouting out a patch to claim.  I know how this kind of thing works, and I’d vastly prefer to live in a manner I comprehend rather than become the kind of spineless, broken, withered sack of entrails I’d have to be in order to live like Paragon City and the United States otherwise seem to expect a citizen to live. I’m supposed to submit myself to the will of government officials that would likely die in a week or two if they were left in a pleasant, summery forest to fend for themselves here in this unbroken world? I’m supposed to respectfully submit to a governmental body that seems to do little but cater to the desires of banks and Crey?  Terribly sorry, but I’ve walked the streets of Paragon City and even in mere weeks, it has told me plentiful tales of the corruption, the indifference and the prejudice that truly forms the heart of the governing authorities.  What they say and what they claim means nothing when their actions tell such clarion tales. Everything tells its own story eventually. All the talking and high-minded idealism and claims of nobler intention and lofty aspiration are just frippery and set dressing - the story is told by what is made real through the actions of those that have done all that they’ve done.   And so I do not stand in judgment of the United States or Paragon, but rather, I stand in observation of what it has shown me.  There’s plenty yet to see, but thus far, I feel that I’ve seen enough of this tale to know that my place is not, will never and cannot be there.   When people and things do such a remarkable job of telling you who and what they are, you are wise to believe them.  And Paragon City has told me that it is a city of dreams and aspirations that has been thoroughly co-opted, consumed, devoured and digested by the corruption, the greed, the petty ambition and the hunger for control that has overwhelmed everything and anything of it that might once have been something truly better. Paragon City is a derelict place of broken dreams.  I’ve heard no end of excuse-mongering from some about how ‘but the Rikti wars’ and ‘but the Hamidon’ and on it goes. The excuses, stacked one atop another, might reach the moon itself. The truth, near as I can discern it?  Human nature is why Paragon City is a festering corpse marinating in the viscera of all its dead dreams.   Human nature is why the rich live in palatial skyscrapers and the poor live in destitution; why the average man and woman are functionally slaves in all but name.  The United States has the audacity to call itself the ‘Land of the Free’.  If it ever was, I don’t know, but this fiasco I see before he now is anything but a place of freedom.   Here, you are free to comply. You are free to do as you are allowed. You are free to buy any kind of TV you like, but your purpose is to buy TV’s and generate resources for your masters while remaining mostly quiet, mostly docile and mostly too preoccupied with your sportsball and your distractive medias and your banal fixations on politics to ever do anything like look around you and realize that you’re a farm animal that exists to feed your owners. It’s a very pretty world, for what I’ve seen of it.  The corporate and governmental bodies seem eager to destroy that in pursuit of more resources for themselves, so, best of luck to them and all of humanity here with that.  I grew up in an irradiated wasteland. I’ll do just fine if it comes to such ends. Will they? Something tells me that by the time these fuckwits realize that they can’t eat money and that no amount of political control makes the weather bearable, they’re going to be standing neck-deep in the corpses of billions and wondering tearfully how it came to this. It will, I expect, be a dreadfully impenetrable mystery to these dipshits as to how the screamingly obvious consequences to their actions ever occurred. For as brilliantly creative and erudite as some in this world clearly are, collectively, humanity here looks to me like they’re so mind-numblingly dumb that if I stick around long enough, I might just get to watch the whole world become like mine was because it wasn’t economically profitable for certain people to have stopped it from becoming so. I’ve been told and have seen it borne out that there just isn’t any money in helping the poor, and that while there are those that do care about such things and that do try to take care of the basic foundations of a civilized endeavor, those with most of the resources don’t care about such things because it doesn’t affect them personally. That tracks. I’ve seen all of this before.  Different world, different details, same bullshit human nature doing the driving.   My people didn’t call ourselves humans, but it is clear that our ‘Ancients’ were humans and we all descended from them.  Human nature never changed.   And so, what I’m really being asked by the Acronym Police is to accept this, to submit to this, to yield unto this and to become part of this.  I must accept it all as it is, or I’m the problem. Here’s to being the problem. I don’t accept this and I won’t be a part of it.  I’m not that stupid and I’ll keep my self respect,thanks. Near as I can tell, Vanguard is the only body of authority I’ve yet examined here on Primal Earth that looks respectable.  Everything else thus far looks to me like assemblies of fools that have gotten into positions of power by all the worst methods, for all the wrong reasons. I’m sure there must be some good and decent bureaucrats in the mix, but I’m not going to go looking for them any more than I go looking for treasure in cesspits.  The United States and Paragon City may keep their house as they please. As the guest, it is up to me to either accept the hospitality as it is offered or to depart. This is me, departing.  

[waitimcomingtoo]

The Hint

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Synopsis submitted by @jasmine11685: Peter gets jealous when you have to flirt with someone on a mission

Masterlist

“Wow.”

That was the only word Peter could say as you descended the staircase in a form fitting black dress. The slit up the side added an elegant touch, something needed for the ball you were going to.

“You look pretty “wow” yourself.” You smiled shyly as you lifted the hem of your dress to walk towards him. “The suit is a nice change from the flannels, though I do love those.”

Peter opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no words formed in his brain. As soon as you put your hands on his collar to tuck it under his suit jacket, his name was lost on his and all he knew was yours.

“So this is what it’s like to be speechless.” He chuckled nervously as you straightened his jacket.

“Shut up.” You giggled as your face flushed. “Your ties a little crooked.”

“Thanks.” Peter whispered as you adjusted his tie. “You look beautiful. Like, the kind of beautiful that makes you want to cry when you look at it.”

“Thank you.” You laughed again, out of habit. You looked at Peter through your eyelashes as your shaking hands slid down his jacket.

“Nervous?” He asked softly when he noticed your unsteady demeanor.

“A little.” You smiled weakly. “It’s uh, it’s a shame I’m gonna have to waste all this beautiful on some douche who won’t appreciate it.”

“Well I appreciate it.” Peter assured you. “All of it. What is your mission exactly?”

“I just have to get some information out of Harry Osborn. Apparently he’s the only one who knows what’s his father has been doing up at Oscorp. We have to find out his plans before he does something dangerous. Could you help me with this?” You asked as you handed him a diamond necklace. You turned around and Peter carefully moved your hair off of your back.

“Oh.” He said in surprise as he clasped the necklace around your neck. “And how are you planing on getting that information?”

“I’m gonna flirt with him like my life depends on it.” You said confidently as you turned back around. “Because who knows? It might.”

Peters face twitched in confusion as his eyebrows knit together. He felt a white hot jealousy run all the way to his scalp when he learned about the plan.

“You have to flirt with that asshole?” Peter laughed nervously and cleared his throat. “He’s a total playboy. He’s probably never done his own laundry a day in his life.”

“I think I can handle him.” You winked at him as you touched your your lipstick. “And his laundry.”

“I have no doubt in your abilities. I just wish you didn’t have to use them on him.” Peter said, mostly to himself.

“It’s fine, Pete.” You assured him. “I’m actually excited to do it.”

“Excited?” Peter began to sweat.

“Yeah.” You grinned in excitement. “This is the biggest role I’ve ever had in a mission. I really want to do a good job so I can impress my dad. That means I’m gonna have to pull out my best flirting.”

“Your best flirting?” Peter was really beginning to panic now.

“Yup. I need this boy to fall in love with me.” You told him. “Watch, by the end of the night, he’ll be putty in my hands.”

“I don’t think you should do this, Y/n.” Peter blurted. “I think we should get Natasha or someone else to do it. You shouldn’t have to be the shiny object we use to distract the enemy.”

“I’m fine with it, Pete. My dad didn’t give me this role because I’m pretty. He gave me this role because I have good communication and manipulation skills. Plus, I’m closest to Harry’s age. It all works out.”

“He could be really dangerous.” Peter protested. “You could get hurt.”

“I’m really dangerous.” You stated. “And he’s definitely gonna get hurt.”

“Just be careful, okay?” Peter sighed, making you look at him. You walked over to him and cupped his face in your hands, making his breath hitch in his throat.

“I got this, Petey.” You said gently. “I know you’re worried about me, but you have no reason to be. I can do this. And you, Sam, and my dad are gonna be listening the whole time. We’re gonna catch this guy. I know it.”

“I just don’t want you getting hurt. If things go wrong-“

“They won’t.” You cut him off. “Go ask my dad. He drew up every possible outcome of this plan and they all end with Harry getting his ass kicked.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded and gave you a smile. “I’ll go talk to Mr. Stark.”

~

“You just had to believe in her.” Peter grouched as he barged into Tony’s office. “You just had to recognize her talent and trust her enough to carry the mission.”

“I’m sorry. Is that anger directed towards moi?” Tony touched a hand to his chest. “Are you mad at me?”

“Yeah, I am.” Peter said. “You know I like Y/n and sent her off to flirt with the richest playboy in New York City?”

“Hey.” Tony said sternly. “Playboy is my thing.”

“Why did you have to make her do this job?” Peter whined. “She’s gonna fall in love with him and forget all about me.”

“He’s a criminal, Peter.” Tony reminded him.

“So? Girls love that!” He protested. “You remember how she acted around Loki.”

“Don’t remind me.” Tony rolled his eyes. Peters face shifted back to his forlorn expression and Tony saw how much this was hurting him.

“Look, kid, don’t sweat this mission.” He said as he put a hand on Peters shoulder. “She’s just gonna get the information she needs from Harry and you’ll never have to worry about him again. You can go right back to your little will-they-won’t-they bullshit or whatever it is you’re doing.”

“I have a plan.” Peter insisted. “And Harry is going to put a serious wrench in my plan, thanks to you.”

“You have a plan?” Tony doubted. “Ive been watching you pine after my daughter for years. When is this plan going into action exactly?”

“I’m just going to think really hard about how I’m in love with her and wait until she realizes.” Peter mumbled as he adverted his eyes.

“Yeah?” Tony cocked his head. “And how’s that going for you?”

“I think she’s just about to get the hint.” Peter said and Tony let out a groan.

“Kid, just ask her out.” He reasoned. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“She could hear me.” Peter stated. “And then say no.”

“She’s never gonna take the hint unless you actually give her the hint.” Tony reasoned. “Why don’t you try tonight? She’ll be all giddy from successfully completing the mission. Perfect time to confess those bottled up feelings.”

“I don’t know.” Peter sighed. “Maybe.”

~

An hour later, you were making eyes at Harry from the bar. After locking eyes a few times, you signaled for him to come over.

“Hey.” Harry knocked on the bar twice and looked down at you. He sized you up before smiling in approval and sending you a nod.

“Hey.” You gave him a sultry smile as he sat down.

“You all by yourself?” He asked as he drummed his fingers on the bar.

“I was.” You took a sip and looked at him through your lashes. “Until you came along.”

“Mind if I stay?” He raised an eyebrow as he flagged down the bartender. You made a face as he ordered a drink before smiling at him.

“I prefer it.” You flirted.

“Good.” He accepted his drink and took a long sip. “I don’t like being told no.”

“Then you better give me something to say yes to.” You leaned on your hand and leaned towards him. Inside, you were gagging at his arrogance. On the outside, you were eating it up.

And that made two of you.

“Oh God.” Peter gagged as he listened to the banter through his ear piece. “This is torture.”

Sam, who was standing next to him as they both kept an eye on you, gave Peter a look.

“Relax, kid.” He sighed. “She’s just doing her job.”

“You’re a pretty bold girl. I like that.” Harry cupped your chin before releasing it. “Just not as bold as me.”

“Oh yeah?” You raised an eyebrow, grabbed his drink, and downed the rest before slamming the glass down. “How about now?”

“Oh, you are going to get me into trouble.” Harry chuckled and he scooted closer to you. Peter watched in disdain as the jealousy coursed through his veins again.

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” You crawled. “Don’t you like trouble?”

“I love it.” He insisted as he held out his hand. “My names Harry Osborn. You’ve probably heard of me.”

“I have.” You smirked as you shook his hand. “I’m Y/n.”

“Why is she talking like that?” Peter whined upon hearing your flirty tone. “She never talks like that.”

“Because she’s not trying to sleep with you, dummy. Thats why.” Sam snorted as he continued to watch.

“What?” Peter snapped his head towards Sam. “She’s not trying to sleep with that guy. She’s just getting information out of him.”

“Yeah well, guys tend to talk a lot more once you’ve tired them out.” Sam shrugged as he sipped his own drink. Pete’s face fell as he stared Harry down with daggers in his eyes.

“She wouldn’t do that.” Peter mumbled.

“Shhh.” Sam waved his hand. “I’m trying to listen.”

“So,” you took another sip from your drink, “Whats it like being the son of one of the most powerful men in the city? Wasn’t your dad like, 25 when he founded Oscorp.”

“23, but who’s keeping score.” Harry shrugged as he looked around the room. “I’ll probably do something like that soon. Maybe something even bigger. I already have a lot of ideas. Pretty impressive, huh?”

“Totally.” You egged him on but rolled your eyes when he looked away. “Do you ever get to watch his experiments?”

“Baby, I’ve seen just about all of them.” Harry bragged as he played with your dangling earrings. “He’s done things you wouldn’t believe. Things that aren’t even legal.”

“Yeah?” Your eyes widened in excitement and you leaned in closer. “Like what?”

“I can’t tell you here.” Harry pulled away suddenly and sighed. “I don’t want anyone hearing.”

“Alright.” You purposefully took the bait. “Then let’s talk somewhere else.”

“Do you know a place?” He played nonchalant as he put a hand on your knee. Peter watched the scene in front of him and looked away.

“Yeah. My bedroom.” You smirked and stood up. “Let’s go there.”

“Bold.” Harry rubbed his hands together and stood up as well. “You’re dangerous.”

You took his hand and lead him towards the elevator, feeling the gun that was strapped to your thigh brush against your leg as you walked.

“You have no idea.” You mumbled. You passed Sam and Peter and gave them a nod as you lead Harry towards his interrogation. Peter looked like he was ready to fight someone and Sam looked entirely amused. You gave them a thumbs up before leading Harry upstairs.

~

“What’s the craziest thing your dad has done?” You asked as you sat down on the bed. You flicked your leg out and pretended to examine your heels to draw his attention. Harry took the bait and held your ankle in his hands, admiring the fancy shoes Mr. Stark had given you for the mission.

“Why do you want to know?” He asked coyly as he looked up at you.

“Because I like to get a little crazy myself and I want to know how much you can handle.” You shrugged as you shook your hair out. Peter gulped as he listened, feeling his jaw tighten in anger. Tony joined him and Sam at their post and looked around for you and Harry.

“How’s the mission going?” He asked when he didn’t see you anywhere.

“Horrible.” Peter grumbled.

“She didn’t get him to the secondary location?” Tony worried.

“She did.” Sam cut in. “Peters just mad that his girlfriend just found herself a boyfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Peter snapped. “Maybe she would have been if Mr. Stark wasn’t a destroyer of young love.”

“Parker, quiet.” Sam commanded. “I’m trying to listen.”

“How do I know I can trust you?” Harry folded his arms as he looked down on you.

“You can trust me.” You told him as you reached up to grab his tie. You used it to pull yourself up and off the bed before planting a kiss right on his mouth.

“What was that?” Peter touched his fingertips to his ear piece when he heard silence from your end.” Why did she pause?”

“She didn’t pause.” Sam shook his head as he checked his watch.

“Then what-“

“She kissed him.” Tony cut in while giving Peter an apologetic look.

“She kissed him?” All the color drained from Peters face and Tony felt he was to blame.

“You know the Green Goblin?” Harry asked once you pulled away.

“Yeah.”

“That’s my dad.” Harry admitted, and Tony and Sam quickly wrote it down.

“No way.” You pretended to be impressed. “I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true. He was dying so he invented this serum to keep himself alive. It ended up giving him all these crazy abilities.” Harry boasted, incriminating himself further. “And he’s got this glider that he can fly around on. You’d love it. It’s very shiny.”

“Wow. I love shiny.” You gushed, fighting the urge to punch him in the throat then and there. “How much serum did he make?”

“He has one more vile that he said he’d give to me when I’m older.” Harry tweaked his eyebrow as he smirked.

“So you’re gonna be the next Green Goblin? Isnt he a bit of a bad guy?” You continued to draw information out of him as your fingers danced around his collar.

“Maybe I am bad guy.” Harry shrugged. “Like father, like son.”

Harry leaned in to kiss you again but you dodged it and laughed as you moved away.

“Bad, huh?” You composed yourself so you wouldn’t be suspicious. “What else has he done?”

“He gave one of our scientists these metal arms. They can rip a person in half. Ive seen it happen.” Harry continued to brag and you recorded every word of it.

“Dr. Occtavius.” Tony realized. “That’s how he got his weapons.”

“Thats crazy.” You gasped and played with his hair. “What’s your dad gonna do?”

“He’s basically forming a league of bad guys.” Harry shrugged like it was no big deal. “Guys way worse than the Avengers.”

“Does he have a problem with the Avengers?” You wondered.

“My dad hates them. I hate them too.” Harry scoffed and you held back a laugh. “That’s why we’re gonna wipe them out. New York can’t rely on a bunch of guys in dress up, and we’re gonna show them that.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“With an attack on New York City on the 8th.” Harry told you, and Tony immediately wrote it down. “The Avengers won’t know what hit them.”

“That sounds pretty scary. Will you keep me safe?” You batted your eyelashes at him and he ate it up.

“I can’t listen to this.” Peter took out his earpiece and slammed it on the counter. “I’m going in there.”

“Parker! Stay where you are and - you know what? I don’t care.” Sam shrugged it off and continued to listen to your conversation.

“Of course baby.” He cupped your face in his hands. “It’s gonna be a direct hit on the Avengers tower. A pretty thing like you won’t be anywhere near there.”

“Actually”, you took his hands off your face and dropped your smile, “I will.”

“What?” Harry’s face faltered at your sudden mood change.

“Did you get that guys?” You touched your fingers to your ear piece and waited for the confirmation. “Copy that, dad.”

“What?” Harry’s face twisted in anger. “You’re an Avenger?”

“Look at you! So smart. You figured it out.” You said sarcastically.

“No.” Harry shook his head. “I don’t believe you. There’s no way you’re an Avenger. You’re my age and a chick.”

“Not just an Avenger. I’m a Stark too. Want me to prove it to you?” You asked casually.

“How?” Harry raised an eyebrow. You gave him a swift punch to the throat that knocked him on his back.

“Like that.” You blew your hair off your forehead as you checked your nails.

“You bitch.” Harry wheezed from the floor.

“You see, I can’t have you and your father attacking my friends.” You crouched down beside him and shrugged. “I’m gonna have to take you in.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Harry swiped at you but you dodged it.

“I know. But this cute little microphone recorded everything you said and sent it to the police.” You pouted and pointed to your mic. “They should be here soon. You might want to wipe the lipstick off your face before the get here.”

“I’m not going to prison.” Harry grumbled as he sat up.

“Aw, but you are.” You said as you pulled him off the floor and put his hands behind his back. “Daddy can’t bail you out of this one, like how he bailed you out of your 17 parking tickets.”

“How do you know about that?” Harry asked as he looked over his shoulder at you.

“I know everything, bitch.” You leaned into his ear to growl.

“No. I’m not going down for this.” Harry broke out of your hold and swung at you. You dodged the first one, but he got you right in the jaw with the second one. You stood up and got ready to fight him as he put his fists up.

“You’re not even that pretty.” He exclaimed as he swung at you again. Right as his fist collided with your face, Peter burst in the door.

“Yes she is!” Peter shouted as he jumped on Harry’s back. Harry threw Peter onto the bed and lunged for you again. You close-lined him with your arm and dug your heel into his back once he was on the ground.

“Peter? What are you doing here?” You asked as you stepped on Harry’s back harder with your heel. “I got this.”

“There’s something I have to tell you.” Peter panted as he got off the bed.

“You won’t get away with this. I will sue!” Harry writhed around beneath your heel.

“Can it wait?” You asked as you pulled Harry off the ground. “I’m a little busy.”

“It can’t wait.” Peter shook his head as you shoved Harry against the wall. “There’s something I’ve been holding in for a long time and I need to tell you.”

“I wouldn’t even bother dude.” Harry said with his face squished against the wall. “She’s a total bitch.”

“Was I talking to you?” Peter growled before shooting a web at Harry’s wrists to handcuff him.

“Ohhh I see.” Harry laughed humorlessly. “Spiderman is mad that I stole his girlfriend.”

“Can you shut up? I’m trying to have a conversation here.” You barked at Harry. “I’m sorry, Peter. Please continue.”

“I didn’t want you to flirt with Harry tonight because you can do a lot more than just sit still and look pretty.” Peter began.

“I know that, Peter.” You nodded.

“I also didn’t want you to flirt with him because I was jealous.” He confessed.

“Jealous?” You asked as you put Harry in the hotel chair and began to tie him up.

“He likes you, stupid.” Harry grumbled. You shot Harry and angry look, but when you looked back at Peter, he was nodded.

“He’s right.” Peter admitted , taking you by surprise.

“You like me?” You lips twitched into a smile as you tightened Harry’s rope. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was scared you wouldn’t like me back. You’re my best friend, Y/n.” Peter said softly. “If you didn’t like me back, everything would change. We’d still be friends but it wouldn’t be the same. I didn’t want to risk that.”

“I’m sorry.” You frowned. “I should’ve been more clear then.”

“Do you seriously have to do this here?” Harry whined and you smacked him on the back of the head.

“Clear about what?” Peter wondered.

“That I like you too.” You smiled sheepishly at him. Tony listened to the confession over the ear pierce and smiled to himself.

“There you go kid.” He mumbled to himself. “She got the hint.”

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[wandaromanova]

Lost

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of cancer, death, cussing

A/N: hello! i’d like to put a disclaimer that i am not in any way knowledgeable of the medical field and all of the terminology and information used in this fic was found through research! happy reading <3

anon requested: hiiiii !! can i request like an angst into fluff natxfem!reader one shot where the reader has a really bad day and takes it out on nat and hurts her feelings and so they go to bed angry. but the reader realizes their mistake and the next morning just wakes her up by showering her with love and then takes the whole day to do cute little date things with her? like making her favorite meal or like dancing in the kitchen to their favorite song late at night or just super fluffy things? if not, that’s okay!! have a good day <3

Summary: The heavy weight of her profession gets to Y/N and she takes her anger out on her loving girlfriend; Natasha Romanoff.

Word Count: 3K | navigation

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

Becoming a doctor was no easy feat.

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Once high school is completed, one must receive your bachelor’s degree before taking the MCAT exam and applying to medical school. After four years of medical school, you must endure a year as an intern before being promoted to a resident. 

Depending on what specialty one has selected, residency can span from three to seven years. Fellowships follow after but are typically an optional course that provides extra training. 

Yes, there are a lot of necessary steps to take in order to set foot into the medical world, but somehow, the years of foreplay could never compare to being a full-fledged physician; and you knew this all too well.

You are a pediatric oncologist and your job was to diagnose and provide treatment to children and teenagers who had cancer. You specialized in hematology; the treatment of blood disorders.

You were the head of pediatric oncology in a Manhattan hospital. You dealt with a lot of patients, but a two-year-old little girl named Sarah was secretly your favorite. 

Despite being diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia, Sarah’s positivity and playful personality never faltered.

Even if she didn’t understand the circumstances because of her young age, you knew she was suffering. Regardless of it all, every session you had with her was endearing.

You met with the child once a week to administer chemotherapy. Her enthusiasm never failed to have you awestruck. Most of your patients were exhausted from the treatments, but not Sarah. 

She was a hyper child who would attempt to sing Frozen songs, performing as you tried to fight a smile from taking over your features. She had a stuffed Olaf doll that she brought with her to every visit and it was heartwarming to see her hug the doll close to her chest. 

Sarah would even bring you drawings every week that you would keep in your locker. You’d admire each and every one of the drawings, even if you couldn’t really tell what they were.

You’d grown fond of the little girl in the past two months you had been treating her. You were also relatively close to her parents, who were probably the kindest people you’ve ever encountered. It made sense that Sarah was the ball of sunshine she was, she obviously got it from her parents.

Most times, parents were on edge and extremely short-tempered. If parents saw you often, that meant that their child was diagnosed with some form of cancer. Understandably, they would be rather hostile whilst interacting with you, but you never took their behavior personally. 

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If you were in their shoes, you were positive that you wouldn’t be very friendly either. 

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You had grown fond of the beaming child. You were aware that growing emotionally attached to patients was unprofessional, but how could you not? 

You adored children and for that very reason, you had chosen a specialty that allowed you to help kids as much as medicine would allow. You always had a soft spot for kids and you found joy in helping them as best as you possibly could.

Sarah had a very good chance at pulling through. With consistent treatment and her young age, her survival rate was around 68%. Those were considerably good odds in these circumstances. Not to mention, the chemotherapy seemed to be paying off. At the rate she was improving, she was predicted to be out of the woods soon enough.

However, the child had developed a bacterial infection. Since she had been receiving chemotherapy, the treatment had damaged her white blood cells which are responsible for fighting off infections. 

All you could do was provide antibiotics to try and fight off the infection. You had monitored her for some time in hopes of seeing any sign of improvement, but unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. Her immune system was extremely vulnerable and there wasn’t any way to reverse the damage. 

Your heart was torn to pieces when you delivered the news to her parents. They broke down in the hallway outside of Sarah’s room as you informed them of Sarah’s rapidly shortened life expectancy. It was only a matter of time before the young child would pass and honestly, this was what you hated most about your job.

You hated that you couldn’t help every single patient. You hated how cruel the world could be to take away an innocent child from their loving parents. 

You allowed her parents to spend time by her bedside. They laid on either side of her bed, clinging onto her for dear life. What broke you the most was the paleness of Sarah’s once glowing skin. Her smile was still present but didn’t quite reach her eyes like it used to. 

Her parents quietly sang ‘Love Is An Open Door’ to Sarah. You felt your heart clench in a bittersweet way as you silently watched. Normally, Sarah wouldn’t hesitate to join in, but her lack of breath prevented her from doing so. All she could do was close her eyes and lightly nod her head along to their voices. 

Sarah passed hours later and it was an extremely somber experience. Hearing the cries of parents who lost their children wasn’t easy and it never would be. Your job had its pros and cons, and this was the biggest negative.

You fought back your own tears as you exited the room, giving the two mourning parents some privacy after you recorded Sarah’s time of death. You found the nearest restroom and allowed the tears to fall down your face. 

A pure soul had been ripped away from the world, never having the chance to experience the great things life had to offer.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

4 Hours Later

You trudged into your loft, immediately taking off your coat and hanging it up before tossing your keys on the small table by the front door. 

Your girlfriend, Natasha, had heard your arrival and quickly exited the bedroom to greet you, a wide smile on her face. However, her smile fell when she noticed your defeated state. 

Your shoulders were slumped as you slouched slightly and your eyes were dripping with sadness. 

“Honey? What’s wrong?” Natasha approached you while you stood frozen in front of the door. Her hands came up to cup your cheeks as she stared at you in concern, her eyes scanning over your features. 

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“I lost Sarah.” 

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Natasha’s eyes widened and her heart sunk at your words. She was aware of how much you adored the two-year-old. Once a week, you would rave about the child and how adorable she was at the dinner table. You would go on and on about how Sarah would sing to you, draw pictures for you, and bring along stickers to place onto your coat.

The redhead loved how happy you looked whenever you spoke about any of your patients, but most especially Sarah. It brought Natasha some joy of her own to see you speak animatedly about Sarah; your happiness was her happiness. 

So, the news hurt her almost as much as it hurt her. She knew how much you loved Sarah, despite never saying it straight out.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I know how much you cared about her. Are you okay?” Natasha’s voice was oozing with sympathy. You couldn’t help but feel irritated by her question. 

You tore her hands off of your cheeks and walked past her and into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water as the redhead watched you intently. 

“Am I okay? I’m fine! It’s not like I lost an extremely young patient today or anything. What kind of stupid fucking question is that, Natasha?” You took a sip of cold water to try and calm yourself damn, but your attempt was futile. 

The redhead made her way into the kitchen, standing on the opposite side of the island as you took another sip of water, eyes burning a hole into her head over the rim of the glass. 

“I know, that was a dumb question. I just want to help you, Y/N/N.” Natasha remained calm and patient as she spoke to you. She was no stranger to the loss of a person she desperately tried to save and knew all too well the sadness and anger that accompanied the tragedy. She was an Avenger, after all. 

“I don’t want your help and I don’t need you!” You slammed your cup onto the counter as you raised your voice. Honestly, it was surprising that you hadn’t shattered the glass with the amount of force you exerted. 

Natasha felt an ache in her chest as you yelled at her. She knew that you weren’t in the right state of mind and didn’t take it personally, but that didn’t make your words hurt any less. 

“You save entire cities and I can’t even save a single fucking person!” You were turning red at this point, tears of frustration streaming down your face. The redhead hated seeing you cry, but she knew better than to approach you at this moment. 

“Babe, you save so many pe-” Natasha’s tried to speak, but you quickly interjected. 

“If you’re going to try and spew some philosophical bullshit to me right now, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear another god damn word from your mouth.”

The redhead looked down defeatedly. She had never seen you so upset, let alone direct your frustrations towards her. Her eyes fell down to the marble counter between you both before looking up at you. You were breathing heavily, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. 

Without another word, Natasha retreated back to the bedroom, shutting the door softly behind her. You watched her until she was out of your view and let out a sigh. Your hands gripped the edges of the kitchen island, supporting your weight as you shut your eyes. 

You brought a hand up to your face and pinched the bridge of your nose. After a few minutes, you made your way into the living room, chucking off your shoes before collapsing onto the couch. You didn’t feel like interacting with Natasha anymore tonight, knowing that you most likely wouldn’t be able to control your temper. 

You were just so fed up with the painful losses you had to endure from your profession. 

You knew that being a doctor was more dark clouds and thunder, than sunshine and rainbows, but you just wished that for once, the weather forecast would work in your favor. 

The emotional day had finally caught up to you. Your body relaxed as you sunk further into the couch, eyes fluttering shut as you succumbed to a much-needed slumber. 

Unbeknownst to you, Natasha was still awake. She laid flat on her back and stared up at the ceiling in thought. She was mad at you, as much as she didn’t want to be. Natasha had gone through the same thing and never lost her cool with you as you had with her. 

The redhead calmed down slowly, turning on her side and facing the empty space beside her which you normally occupied. She reached one arm out, her skin colliding with cool sheets, already missing the warmth of your body. 

Natasha hated sleeping without you by her side, She didn’t feel complete when you weren’t steadily sleeping next to her, your arms wrapped around her body. However, she hoped that things would improve in the morning.

And with that thought in mind, she drifted off into a dreamless sleep, clutching the sheets firmly in her hand. 

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

 The Next Morning

You awoke to a blinding light, the morning sun shining through the windows and landing directly onto your face. You let out a groan and slowly sat up, stretching out your limbs with a groan. The couch wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, you were aching everywhere. 

You sat there for a moment as the events of the day before caught up to you. Not only had you lost Sarah, but you upset Natasha. You immediately felt guilty as you recalled the harsh words you spat at her in a fit of rage. You felt like a complete asshole, and rightfully so. 

You quickly stood up and entered the kitchen, retrieving some bacon from the freezer and eggs from the refrigerator. You grabbed two separate pans and washed your hands, making sure to get the coffee pot running before you began cooking.

Your girlfriend absolutely loved bacon, eggs, and coffee. She described the combinations as a ‘party in her mouth.’ So, this was going to be an ‘i’m sorry for being a bitch last night’ apology breakfast. 

You got started on the meal and by the time you finished up and had the stove off, Natasha stalked out of the bedroom slowly. She eyed you carefully as she approached, you sent a soft smile her way.

“You made breakfast,” Natasha spoke and you shyly nodded your head. You moved away from the stove and rounded the counter. The redhead stood in her spot as you wrapped your arms around her waist, her arms reflexively going around your neck.

“I was an asshole last night.” You stated and your girlfriend nodded her head in agreement. “Yeah, you were a total pain in the ass, the absolute worst.” You rolled your eyes at Natasha’s teasing tone.

“I’m sorry for how I behaved. I was just so upset about… Sarah. I didn’t mean to take it out on you and I can’t even begin to tell you how bad I feel for yelling at you when all you wanted to do was help me.”

Your voice was full of emotion, your eyes boring into her emerald irises as you poured your heart into every syllable you uttered. Natasha smile gently at you, her fingers lightly tugging on the baby hairs on the nape of your neck. 

“It’s okay. I know you weren’t mad at me.” You let out a sigh of relief as the redhead stared at you softly. She let out a small chuckle at your dramatics before continuing.

‘I understand how you feel. The team and I, we try our very best to save as many civilians as we can, but sometimes it’s completely out of our control. It’s the exact same situation.” 

One of Natasha’s hands found its way to your cheek, gently cupping the skin as you leaned into her touch. You were listening intently to her every word, mesmerized by the calming rasp of her voice.

“Don’t dwell on what you couldn’t do, but give yourself some credit for everything you did do. I may not know what happened, but what I do know is that you tried everything you could, no?”

Natasha questioned you and you nodded your head. “I gave her antibiotics to fight the infection, but it was too severe.” The redhead rubbed her thumb against your cheek. 

“All that matters is that you did your best and that’s all anyone could ever ask for.” Natasha ended her little speech as she placed a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. You couldn’t help but smile, an overwhelming feeling of happiness taking over. 

“Thank you. I love you and your… what was it?” You furrowed your eyebrows in concentration before your face lit up. Natasha raised an eyebrow at you. “Philosophical bullshit. That was the words.” The Russian let out a laugh, shaking her head from side to side at your antics. 

“Seriously though, I’m so grateful for you. You’re so amazing to me even when I don’t deserve it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Natasha’s laughter died down as your tone turned serious. Your eyes were so full of love and adoration as you stared into her eyes deeply. 

“Well, let’s hope you never have to find out.” Natasha smiled once more and you couldn’t resist pressing your lips against her plump ones. Your mouths moved in tandem at a slow pace, enjoying the rawness and love that accompanied each movement. 

You broke the kiss when air became an issue. Nat’s eyes fluttered open as you wiggled your eyebrows at her playfully. 

“So, are you ready for some breakfast? Maybe after we eat, we can go on top of a rooftop and I’ll serenade you with a rendition of ‘Sorry’ by Justin Bieber.”

Natasha’s head flew back as she laughed uncontrollably at your words. “What? Do you not like the Biebs? If you want, I could play ‘Baby Come Back’ by Player from a boombox and hold it over my head, instead.” The redhead continued to laugh profusely and you soon joined in. Your arms tightened around her waist as your giggles subsided. 

“I think cuddling on the couch and watching the Kardashians eating ridiculously large bowls of salad will do.” You nodded your head in agreement but didn’t make a move to release Natasha from your grip. She didn’t let go either. 

The two of you just stood there, basking in each other’s embrace, a comfortable silence falling over you both. 

Natasha never failed to say the right things to pull you out of the dark abyss that was your mind. She was completely right, as always. There would always be bad days, patients who were progressing one day and deteriorating the next. 

However, there were also good days, and you shouldn’t allow the bad to overshadow all the good you’ve done. Like with Natasha, she wasn’t always the superhero she is today. She took her dark past and turned it into a bright future. 

Nat didn’t let her bad days define her and neither should you.

Of course, you would always remember every single patient you had lost, but now, you would take the pain and turn it into motivation; motivation to improve yourself, not only in your professional life but in your personal life as well. 

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You would do right by the ones you’ve lost and the one who stuck by your side; Natasha Romanoff. 

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───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

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[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#259

“Seth? Right? C’mon in. Your brother told you who I am? Good. Want a beer?... Here you go. Let’s go out to the back deck. The sun went down, and the cool evening air is starting to kick in. Have a seat…. Ok. Seth, do you know why you are here? Let me be blunt. Your brother David owes me a lot of money. A lot. He’s been doing jobs for me that I need someone I can trust to do. But that’s barely covering the interest. I told him he needs to start working down the principal. So, he offered me… you….

“That’s right he sold you to me. You are going to whore off his debt…. Shut the fuck up. The deal is set. Have some more beer; it will help you to deal with what I need to go over with you….

“Your brother probably told you that I am a powerful man. Hopefully he didn’t tell you what I did. I will share with you one part of my business that you will be a part of. I have several whore agencies across several states. They ain’t like the whorehouses in the movies. The girls never see money; they show up at a set time and do whatever the man wants. They do not say no. They get to live in city, and they show their clients the best the city has to offer. They have everything paid for and get a nice credit card too.

“A few years ago—hell it’s more like ten or so, —I was convinced to do the same but on the fag side. Now, I knew nothing about fag sex, and it disgusted me. Once I got over the visuals, the business was just like the girls. The difference I found out was that I had to have two sets of whores—fag boys like yourself, and men old enough to be your father.

“It was Frankie, one of my goons, who told me that there is a lot money to be made by men taking the dominant role. I didn’t believe it. So, he arranged for me to watch him from a distance him work over this faggot. He didn’t tell me how much he was earning. When I saw this fag hand over three hundred bucks, I knew I needed to get into this. I mean my guy did barely anything other than smack the fag around, call him names, and sit on the faggot’s face at the end. That fag ate that fat ass while pounding its pud. Frankie even went over to the fag’s wallet and took an additional hundred out of it. And wouldn’t you know, that fag boy was loving life.

“Needless to say, that was how I got into the fag whoring business. I had Frankie lead it; he even got somewhat in shape, and now he’s my most popular whore men. Wait a minute, you know him. He fucked you behind a dumpster in the alley behind that fag bar a couple weeks ago. When I saw you at David’s birthday partner at my tavern and he told me that you were his sperm burping brother, I sent Frankie to find out more about you. I know that you can take a good pounding, face slaps, rough housing. Frankie also told me that you cleaned off his cock after we was done and that you drank his piss. You even begged him for more as he walked away from you, naked covered in piss behind the dumpster. That’s all I needed to hear.

“After meeting with your brother, all I had to do was press the massive debt. I knew how self-serving he was. He sold you out so fucking fast. And now I own you. Now strip faggot….

“You do realize who I am? No one ever disobeys one of my direct commands. Now think about your next move real carefully. STRIP YOU FUCKING FAGGOT. Take your time standing up. That drug I put in your beer will make you kinda dizzy if you stand too fast. Yeah, I didn’t want you to run back to your car. Kid, when you came in that door, you were mine. That’s it. Accept your fate. Good boy.

“Yeah, after Frankie roughed up that fag, I was curious. He arranged for me to use one of his regulars who was blindfolded. It was so much fun to kick and punch that faggot only to have him crawl to me, begging for more. With each time, I got more wicked, and they wanted more. I had a few fags over the years locked up and had the best of all worlds. My wife provides me with companionship. My girlfriend offers sensual making love and snuggling. And my faggot takes all my rage filled abuse.

“Underwear needs to go too. Let’s see what you have. Not bad. Looks like you are excited about being naked in front of me. That’s a lot of pre-cum. Decent sized balls. I’d say you are about six inches long. The shaft is a bit thin, but the head is good size. Your foreskin is not too long. That’s good. If there’s going to be one sweaty stinky dick around here, it will be mine. If yours becomes a problem, we’ll get you circumcised.

“What? Faggot, you are nothing more to me than my pickup. If I want to modify you out, I sure as hell am going to. I modify all my property. Tattoos, piercing, permanent hair removal, castration, branding, and so on. But actually, I am a bit cautious. I made the mistake of castrating a fag and regretted it afterwards. He just didn’t seem right to me. The cutter I went to tried to put in fake balls, but it still didn’t seem right. I ended up replacing that fag with another.

“I am looking for my perfect fag. I’m planning on letting my girlfriend go, but sometimes I need that close touch. Not going to do that with my wife. Every day now I realize that I want to be with faggots over women. Faggots are so much easier to mold into what I want. And every now and then I might snuggle with one.

“I like what I see. I want to see your cumload. Jerk off for me. I’ll give you a few minutes to do so. When you do, shoot in your spare hand. I want to see the quantity. I’m going to get your collar; it’s probably done charging. I’m also going to take your car keys. You ain’t going anywhere. Continue jacking….

“….Did you cum? You did! Good fag. When was the last time you came? Yesterday morning? Well that’s a good load. Here, lock this collar around your neck. Ok, so here’s the deal. You can jack off as often as you like, whenever you like as long as I am not using you. If I catch you jacking off, don’t stop. If you are watching porn, continue. But know this, no matter if you haven’t cum in days or you just had a massive orgasm, should I require your use, I fully expect 100% horniness and enthusiasm.

“This remote is hooked up to your collar. With this button… you fall to the floor just like that. Hurt’s like a mother fucker hunh? That’s on low. Remember that. It is also set up to shock you should you cross a 20-foot perimeter of the house. I am notified by an app on my phone when you do something that stupid. Also, the garage and my office on the third floor are completely off limits. You will not fare well should you cross that threshold without me.

“Bring your cock over here. Is your dick head sensitive. It is! Fuck yes! As you get soft, it’s driving you crazy. Good. Good. I see a problem here. Your pubic hair is all over the place. You shouldn’t have hair down here. Look how long this hair is. There’s enough so that I can twirl a bunch around my finger. With a firm yank,… it comes out in one clump. Aww shut the fuck up. Most of the time your screams of pain will turn me on, but now it’s just annoying. Another clump on the other side, and it doesn’t even look like you lost any.

“Look at me faggot. Say ‘Thank you.’ Good fag. Open your mouth. Here eat your pubic hair. Go on chew it. Nasty? I know, now swallow. And here’s… another bunch. Swallow these…. And these… And these… You’ll be permanently shaved in the near future so you won’t have to do much pubic hair eating.

“While you finish your snack, let me take you around the place and show you your duties. This is the kitchen. David told me that you went to culinary school but then dropped out. Well, you will be doing all the cooking here. Cleaning too.

“Let’s go downstairs…. This is your room, although you really don’t have privacy. Over there is your cot. Next to it is the plug you will put into your collar every night. I am notified on my app should the power level drop below 75%. That’s equivalent for not charging for a full week. Unless I just slam you with shocks, I should never get one of those notifications.

“You have a wash basin there, and your toilet is there. There’s your douche hose over there in the shower. No, I haven’t gotten around to buying it a toilet seat; the cold porcelain is fine. And I haven’t hooked up the hot water down here.

“Let’s go up to the Master bedroom…. You never climb into my bed unless I invite you in. In fact no non-sexual furniture for you either without permission. Through that door is the master bath. You will keep this place spotless. That includes licking clean my toilet. The rimseat next to it is when I want to make you toilet paper or a full toilet.

“And here’s the playroom. It’s totally soundproofed. You are going to suffer a lot in here. Screaming is encouraged. In fact, what time is it? Seven. Well we might as well start now. Get on all fours—knees and elbows. Spread those knees wide. Every night you will present yourself in this position, as you will every morning.

“Don’t get too excited. I am going to fuck you good, long, and deep. But that won’t until the end. We got a long way to go. You see, the only people who knows my affinity for preferring the boys to the girls are Frankie, me, and now you. Your brother thinks I’m adding you to my harem of fags. This is something that cannot get out. And if it does, I will know it came from you, and I want you to know the perpetual hell that will come your way.

“Tonight is a test of what you can expect, but keep in mind, tonight’s suffering will be only five hours long, much shorter than what will be if my preference is ever widely known.

“And after the paddling your ass to a welted mess, whipping your back until it turns to bloody hamburger, kicking your balls until they are swollen to twice their size, bruising up your face, and fucking you with very little lube, I may feel the need to snuggle up with you afterwards.

“But first, there’s a lot to do before we do that. Oh look your balls are just ripe for a good old fashioned full-force kick. Every night and every morning you will get one to always remind you what you are.

“Faggot right now with this kick your hell begins.”

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Stronger Together

"Dreamer!"

Lena's alarm sears across Nia's senses. She registers the danger at the corner of her eye-- a Brevakk ripping off his sleeves to expose the keratinized spurs protruding from his arms. One sweep of his arm and she'll be dead, skewered in a spray of thick quills sharp enough to penetrate her suit and lacerate any organ they could reach. But she's locked in battle with a K'hund attacking from the front, so all she can do is brace for the inevitable impact.

Suddenly, Nia's view of the Brevakk is eclipsed by the shadow of Lena's back.

"NO!"

The force of the thorns' impact knocks Lena fron her feet, slamming into Nia and causing them both to go down with a cry. Lena's gauntlet fires once, stunning the Brevakk with a glancing blow. Nia throws her own arm out towards her opponent in a desperate bid to gain some ground. The blast of dream energy sends him flying, and when Nia doesn't notice that he doesn't rise again. Her attention is locked on Lena, and the half dozen quills that have found a home in her chest.

"Lena, Lena, oh my god." Nia's hands shake as she climbs out from under Lena and kneels beside her on the pavement. "No, no, no..."

Lena's eyes are glassy and dazed. She looks down at the horns, reaching drunkenly towards them only for Nia to pull her hands away.

"Why did you do that?"

Nia's suit wouldn't have helped much, but it was better than Lena's blouse-- a silly silken thing now ripped and torn, digging into the edges of the wounds around the quills. Lena had no protection beside her gauntlet, and still she had jumped between them.

"N-nia..." Lena's voice crackles in her throat. She coughs, and blood spatters across her chin, staining her berry-red lips a color far more sinister.

Nia's heart lurches with panic. Her head whips up in search of Kara, but Supergirl isn't here. She's on the other side of the city with J'onn, fighting further unrest there. Her eyes lock on another figure, black leather instead of blue.

"ALEX!!"

Nia's shriek cuts through the din, and Sentinel's head whips towards her. In an instant, the pistol in her hand shifts into a warhammer, and Alex slams it down on her opponent, all thoughts of mitigating casualties forgotten. She skids to her knees beside Nia, nearly elbowing her out of the way to crouch over Lena.

"Lena? Jesus... Lena! Can you hear me? Look at me, look at me--"

Lena's eyes track to Alex, and Nia chokes on a sob when she sees the fear in them. But Alex only calms.

"Good, you're okay," Alex tells her, stroking Lena's hair once with a gentle hand. "You're going to be okay."

With her free hand, Alex fumbles for the watch on Lena's wrist, flipping open its face and silently pressing the symbol embossed there. She doesn't take her eyes off Lena for a moment, and when the signal is active Alex slides her palm into Lena's, which curls tightly around hers.

"H-hurts--"

Lena's breath begins to quicken, and the corners of her eyes pinch with the onset of pain. The shock is quickly wearing off, leaving nothing to dull the pain. Alex nods, giving Lena's hand a squeeze.

"I know, but it's going to be okay," she promises. "We're going to get you somewhere safe--"

Supergirl touches down at the moment, pavement cracking beneath the force of her panic. "Lena!!"

Kara kneels opposite her sister, taking in the damage with wide eyes. She grips Lena's free hand tightly, even as she looks to Alex for instructions.

"Hospital," Alex says simply, urgency clipping her tone. "Now."

Kara nods, and gently maneuvers Lena into her arms. Lena cries out, the sound sharp in Nia's ears. When Nia blinks, tears dampen the fabric of her mask.

"I'm sorry," Kara murmurs, pressing her nose to the side of Lena's head. "I'm sorry."

"K-kar--" Lena gasps for breath, coughing up more blood. Her back now visible, Nia sees that one of the thorns has penetrated so deeply that it tents the back of Lena's shirt.

"It's okay," Kara echoes the well-meaning lie of her sister. "I've got you."

In a burst of wind, Kara takes off, and Nia sits dazed in her wake. It's long moments before she registers Alex's insistent hands tugging her up.

"It was supposed to be me," Nia intones, flat with shock. "She--"

"I know," Alex cuts her off, not unkindly. She tugs Nia to her feet then shoves her into a run. "But we need to go. Now!"

Together, they make their retreat, leaving the alley and the unconscious aliens behind just as the distant wail of approaching sirens cuts through the air.

---

Nia wastes no time in stripping off her costume and changing back into her civvies. But before she can reach the exit, Alex cuts her off. "You can't go to the hospital."

Surprise jolts through Nia, before its quickly replaced with anger. "Are you insane?"

"Nia--"

"I can't just wait here-- she-- those barbs were meant for me, Alex! She's hurt because of me. I can't not be there!"

"Kara just called."

Time seems to freeze. Nia feels ice pool in her veins as a lump climbs to her throat and lodges there. "No..."

Alex rushes to reassure her. "No! That's not-- no, Lena's still in surgery. But-- the police are there."

Nia's relief that Lena is alive cuts short with confusion. "What? Why?"

"They're there to take Lena into custody."

"They can't do that!"

"She's aided and abetted known vigilantes," Alex explains. "With everything that's been happening lately--"

"It's not right!"

"Lena will be fine. Truly. Kara is going to CatCo to get Andrea to make the arrest as public as possible. Between that and the Luthor reputation, my guess is that they'll question her about our identities and then let her go."

"That's-- that's--" Nia struggles to find words through her growing rage. The helplessness of the past few months, the rising anti-alien sentiments, the crackdown on Supergirl on her friends... it all comes to a head, and Nia can barely breathe.

Alex reaches for Nia's hand. "If you go now, you'll only risk exposing yourself. Lena wouldn't want that."

Nia sucks in a breath, but it comes in a sob. The next thing she knows, Alex's arms are around her and she's crying into her shoulder, huge lurching sobs that feel like the world is quaking around her.

"It's okay," Alex promises.

"It's my fault," Nia gasps. "It's all my fault..."

"Lena's going to be okay."

---

Nia may not be able to go to the hospital, but she can't stay in the Tower either. In the end she goes to CatCo, ready to throw her weight behind Kara's pitch to fry the police in the press. Luckily, Andrea doesn't need the convincing.

"I want both of you on this," their boss delivers with a coolness sharpened to a razors edge by the glint of rage in her eyes. "William too. I want you to dig up anything you can find about the arresting officers. Any whisper of corruption within the NCPD that you might have been sitting on, now is your time to air it. CatCo won't stand for this."

Nia and Kara both nod solemnly before retreating to their desks. But instead of diverting to her own desk, Kara follows Nia to hers.

"How are you holding up?"

The gentle question threatens a resurgence of tears. Nia looks away, only for her eyes to catch on the photo of her and Lena on her desk, taken at one of their sister nights the year before. Nia can't remember the last time they've hung out, just the two of them.

Blinking furiously, Nia flips the picture down and opens up her laptop. "Fine."

"It's okay to not be fine..."

"Do you want to know if I'm angry that my friend is alone in the hospital because of me? Fine! I'm angry!"

Kara's features soften. "Nia..."

"It's my fault she's there in the first place!" Nia hisses. The lump returns to her throat, and her eyes burn with unshed tears. "She just, just... she just jumped between us! I should've--"

"Hey." Kara calms her with a hand on her shoulder. Nia sucks in a breath, then another, trying to steady herself. Finally, Kara's features pinch into a bemused smile. "You know Lena... There's no line she won't cross, for the people she cares about."

Instead of comforting her, Kara's words only makes Nia grit her teeth. She turns back to the computer. They better be willing to do the same for her.

"Let's get to work."

----

The first article runs the following morning, skewering the police department for rampant anti-alien abuses while highlighting Lena's charity and outreach. While it's not quite enough to banish the police presence from the hospital, it does get a single visitor in to see Lena. Nia expects Kara to take it, but to her surprise Kara simply nods her towards the door.

"Go," Kara says softly. "Give her our love."

Nia doesn't stop to ask twice. She's ushered into Lena's hospital room by a kindly looking nurse, glaring at the officer posted outside the door on her way in. The second her eyes land on Lena, rage swells in her chest at the side of the handcuffs tethering Lena to the bed.

"Is that really necessary?" she demands, balling her hands into fists. "Where is she going to go?"

"Nia..." Lena's soft voice from the bed interrupts her before she can gather much steam. "It's okay."

Nia huffs, eyeing the way the officer slowly moves his hand from his sidearm when Nia turns back to the room. But then all she can see is Lena, hair limp and torso bulky with bandages under her hospital gown.

"It's not okay," Nia says, sitting in the chair thats been placed next to Lena's bed.

"It's just a misunderstanding," Lena insists, her gaze sliding towards the door. The door itself remains open, denying them any sense of privacy. But Lena doesn't seem to mind when her gaze returns to Nia. "You okay?"

Nia chokes on her own tongue. "Am I--? Lena, you're in the hospital..."

"And I'm okay." Lifting her cuffed wrist, Lena silently reaches for Nia's hand, which Nia offers without hesitation. "Promise."

All of a sudden, the tears come back, pressing against her eyelids as she squeezes her eyes shut. "I promised myself I wouldn't cry--"

"It's okay," Lena assures her. "I'm okay."

"You shouldn't have--"

"Been there in the alley? When that guy tried to mug me?" Lena asks pointedly. Clearly, she's already established her cover story. "You're right, I should have known better." She pitches her voice loud enough to carry to the door. "I'm just lucky Sentinel and Dreamer were there to help me."

They wait a moment to listen for a response, but when none comes, they devolve into a fit of giggles.

"Ow," Lena grimaces with a cough. "No laughing for a while."

Nia tightens her grip on Lena's hand. "I... Lena, I'm so sorry--"

"I'd do it again," Lena returns, softly this time. Her words are for Nia alone. "That's what friends do."

---

Alex turns out to be right. As soon as Lena is well enough to leave the hospital, she's taken to the precinct for interrogation, but between CatCo's articles stirring up enough local support that a crowd forms around the precinct to protest the arrest, and the kind of lawyers a Luthor can acquire even after abandoning the family legacy, Lena is released without charge in a matter of hours.

Nia stays at the Tower hoping to see her, but Lena doesn't come.

"She's guessed she's probably being watched," Alex tells her. "She'll being laying low for a while til the heat dies down. All the better, honestly. It'll give her time to heal."

Nia swallows thickly. "Where is she?"

"Home. Kara's with her, but I'm sure she'd love to see you."

Nia approaches Lena's condo without much of a plan. She's armed with snacks and movies, but she knows that having Kara there won't give Nia the time with Lena she needs. She misses Lena, all more the more since she realized how long it had been since they'd just been... friends. More than allies, more than teammates, just... friends.

It feels like Maeve all over again.

But she swallows her nerves and takes the elevator up. Kara opens the door just as Nia lifts her hand to knock.

"Hey," Kara says quietly. She steps aside to let Nia in, and though she can hear the tv from the next room, they linger in the foyer.

"Is everything okay?" Kara asks.

Nia nods. "Yeah. Um. I just--"

She doesn't have an explanation either. Nia stares at her feet, until Kara breaks the silence.

"Look, I have a favor to ask..."

"Yeah?"

"Would you mind staying with Lena for a few hours?"

When Nia looks up, she finds Kara scrubbing the back of her head with one hand, looking sheepish.

"Yeah," she continues, "I've been kind of... hovering? And I think it's getting on her nerves a little. So I figured I could get some stuff done at CatCo--"

"Yes," Nia blurts. "Yes, of course. I'll stay."

Kara grins. "Thanks. She's in the living room now, if you want to..."

"Right. Yeah, I've got this. Go."

Kara thanks her with another smile that makes her whole face shine. "Call if you need anything."

She slips out the door with a wink, and locks it behind her. Nia walks to the living room on wooden legs, and finds Lena laying on the couch against a pile of pillows, propping her up to take the pressure off her wounds.

She looks up when Nia enters, and though her eyes are tired, her features crease into a smile. "Hey..."

"Hey."

Lena struggles to sit up, prompting Nia to close the distance swiftly. "No, no, no, stay comfy."

Relenting with a sigh, Lena groans. "Not like I have much choice these days."

"It'll get better."

Silence follows. Nia stands awkwardly, hands gripping her bag of candy tightly until Lena regards it with curiosity.

"What's all this?"

Nia starts. "Oh. Uhm... I thought-- well, I was wondering..." She trails off, shoulders slumping. "It's been a while since we've had sister's night."

When Lena doesn't answer, Nia risks a glance up to find Lena blinking in astonishment, before her features soften to warmth. She smiles.

"Well, there's no time like the present."

Lena lifts her arms, making playful grabby motions with her hands.

"What'd you bring me?"

----

Hours later, Kara returns home to find Nia seated on the couch with Lena's legs across her lap. It's as close to cuddling as Lena can get, with her injuries, and the way Nia's hands are spread over Lena's shins tells Kara that the contacr was very much needed.

Lena sleeps peacefully, the tv low in the background. Nia looks up at Kara from the shadows, the light reflecting in the tear tracks painted on her cheeks. Without a word, Kara slips in next to Nia, working her way under Lena's ankles to wrap one arm around the younger girl's shoulders.

Nia hugs her back, shaking quietly with the effort to keep her crying silent.

"It's okay," Kara whispers. Nia nods against her. So long as they were all together, they could get through anything.

"We're going to be okay."

#supercorp #nia and lena brotp #kind of a continuation of sister sister #alternate universe #but could have conceivably happened if lena had been part of the superfriends during the col storyline #that sort of atmosphere #let me know what you think

[roscgcld]

DAYDREAMING!AU || new reality

;request: rn i’m obsessed with your writing & the daydreaming!reader<33 but i also love angst so what would happen if she ended up getting really hurt protecting another student - hope that wasn’t too weird.. again, i love your writing !!

note: ahaha, i am glad that a lot of people enjoy my daydreaming!reader works; she is also one of my babies as well >< and originally i wasn't going to do this cause i had no idea on what to write - but i had managed to layout a rocky plan before i got some bursts of inspiration lol. ended up becoming too loud though ><” I am sorry for that~

pronouns: she/her

daydreaming!reader masterlist

“There is a chance that she will never wake up from this.”

Shoko gave the others in the room a concerned glance as she glanced up from her tablet, hating how silent it was besides the quiet beeping of the machines around the occupied bed. Laying in the bed was Y/N, a breathing tube carefully inserted into her mouth with the ventilator beside her being the only thing that’s keeping her oxygen levels normal. “The amount of damage she took was quite large. And even though she had managed to regulate quite a strong barrier of Curse Energy around her at all times, it wasn’t enough to brace her for the impact of her being slammed into the build.”

The mission shouldn’t have ended this way - the first and second year students were sent on a mission to deal with a few Finger Bearers that had appeared in the city due to the lack of sorcerers on duty at the time. They were under the care of a few First Grade sorcerers, all hand-picked by Yaga-sensei to ensure the safety of the kids.

However, things rarely go to plan in the jujutsu world.

Yaga-sensei sighs softly as he leans back into his seat, his eyes glancing over at his student that was clearly battling to stay alive. Guilt started to eat him from the inside out, since this was technically his fault. Sure, everyone knows that there is no way that you can go on a mission without enduring some casualties. But the fact is that this was not what he had expected for the outcome to be.. “I am going to kill them myself.”

“G-Gojo-san!” Ijichi hissed out as he glances over at the white haired shaman in the room with wide eyes, the man having been leaning against the wall opposite from the hospital bed with his arms crossed over his chest. His head was tipped forward with an almost too casual expression on his face, yet anyone can tell the barely suppressed anger that lurked underneath. An anger that was only a few moments away from exploding. “You can’t - don’t say things like that!”

“And you expect me to sit back as they failed to save the children?” Gojo asks in a loud voice, effectively squashing whatever confidence Ijichi had built up inside of him. The hand that was resting arm tightened, the veins at the back of his pale hands started to protrude out as Gojo’s anger started to show itself. “I need a good explanation on how their incompetency put our student in this state. 5 First Grades against 3 Special Grade Curses? With 7 talented students by their side and they still can’t handle it? Give me a fucking break.”

“Not everyone can be like you, Satoru.” Yaga-sensei finally mumbles out as he rests his forehead into his hand, fingers pinching at the space between his eyes tiredly. “If anything, it was my fault. I had underestimated the brains of the Finger Bearers, and because of that, all my calculations were wrong. I put retrieving the fingers over numbers. So if you want to find someone to be angry to, the blame is on me.”

The room went quiet after Yaga’s explanation, both Ijichi and Shoko sharing a caution look before casting a glance over at the blindfolded man. After a few tensed moments Gojo pushed himself off the wall and walked out of the hospital room without another word, closing the door behind him quietly; a stark contrast to his usual habit of either slamming the shoji doors too hard, or leaving it open completely.

That out of character move definitely had Shoko sighing in concern. “That idiot...I hope he’s not going to do anything stupid.” She mumbles softly before she turned back to face the young girl laying on the bed, quietly reaching over to brush her fingers through the soft strands that had fallen over Y/N sleeping face. “You better wake up soon, sweetheart...I worry that this might finally push him over the edge.”

Occupying each seat outside of the small waiting area in the infirmary were the other students; wounds bandaged, yet their anxiety was palpable in the air. They had heard what had happened, yet were sheild by the other sorcerers who had called for back-up. Last they heard of Y/N was a scream before what sounded like a building collasping. “Do you think Y/N-senpai is alright?”

Yuji was the first one who dared to break the silence, glancing up from his clenched hands before him to glance at the others. “I mean...it must have been bad, since she was charted off as soon as back up arrived.” Yuji mutters softly as he tightened his fingers together, trying to stop them from shaking. He felt awful - if only he had spared a few seconds to glance over at his senpai, maybe she wouldn’t be in the condition she’s in now. “It’s not every day you’re rushed straight to Ieiri-sensei’s office...”

“...If there is one idiot who can pull through, it’ll be her,” Maki mumbles out quietly after awhile, looking away from her kouhai to stare down at the wooden floors of the building they were in. “Even if it’s bad, she always pulls through it...there is no reason why she can’t do it this time.” She mutters softly just as a pair of footsteps came towards them, causing everyone to look up at the approaching figure. 

Gojo paused when he spotted the others, the question they wanted to ask was clear as day. And for once, Gojo wished that he was able to reassure them like he always does. For him to be able to put up the act that everything was alright, that everyone will be okay. 

But he knew that it’ll do no justice if he did. “Is she...is she alright?”

The question that fell from Yuta’s mouth was left hanging in the air for a few moments, the sliver of hope they had moments ago slowly dimming with each passing moment. Quietly Gojo slipped his hands into his pockets, his blindfolded eyes downcast; too scared to see their reactions. For once, he wished that he was not the one to break the news to the students. “Y/N-chan...might not recovery from this.”

His words sent shock waves through the students, yet he balled his fists up in his pockets to continue with what he had to say. “She hit her head too hard...and if she was not subconsciously protecting herself with Cursed Energy all the time, the impact would have caused her skull to crack in two on impact. But it still took a lot out of her person, and Shoko said that-”

The sound of a metal chair being thrown backwards echoed across the room, causing Gojo to look up just in time to see Yuta standing up with wide eyes as he hastily tried to calm his friend. “Maki, you need to calm down.” He tried to reason with the girl, who had her backed turn to the group, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her jacket. “This isn’t your fault-” Yuta tried to reason, only to pause when Maki just silently started to walk away, leaving with no more but a loud slam of the main door that echoed down the hallway once more. 

For a few moments no one said anything else, yet the first one to move was Megumi; who turned to face his sensei. “Can we visit her?” He mumbled out quietly, to which Gojo just glanced over at him with a slightly raised eyebrow. “Usually people talk to someone who is in a coma. Might jolt them awake or give them encouragement to fight harder...I am sure Y/N-senpai will get lonely if no one visited her..”

“Why not?” Gojo said after a few moments of thought, giving his students what he hope was a reassuring smile as he turns a little; nodding down the hallway. “Shoko managed to stabalise her condition. Just make sure to sanatise your hands at the door.”

Quietly the group of students followed behind their silent sensei, keeping close to one another as if they were trying to give each other comfort. The walk to the room seemed too far, the door seeming to grow further and further away from them with each step. It was if it was trying to stop them from seeing the truth; yet they didn’t stop. Yet soon they found themselves standing before the smooth door; the single grey name plaque with her name written in black resting in the silver plaque holder. “Right, here we are.”

After everyone was handed a blob of hand sanitiser and had wiped it onto their skin, the small group entered after a quiet knock to the door. “Y/N-chan, I’ve returned with the others...minus one, that is.” Gojo hummed out in delight as he made his way towards the bed, a silent gesture for the others to do the same. “You know Maki-chan though. Once she finishes beating herself up, she’ll come running back. She always does~”

Quietly the others made their way into the room, eyes scanning over the beeping machines and many wires connected to the sleeping girl. “Y/N...senpai..” Nobara mumbles out in shock, her eyes resting the ventilator; not believing that a girl that was bounding about the college earlier today now needed help to do something as simple as breathing. “No way...there is...”

A warm hand rest on the top of her head, Megumi quietly giving her a form of comfort whilst his wide eyes stared at the bed before him in shock. No one dared take a step forward, like they were standing on the other side of a fragile glass bridge that was moments away from breaking. “Y/N..”

Gojo felt the hole started to eat inside of him as he watches how his students were staring at their fellow classmate in shock. Quietly he settled down in the only seat at the corner of the room, watching from the shadows at how the others will react to seeing her in such a state. The first person to snap out of it was Yuta, who quietly places a hand on Toge’s shoulders before giving it a light squeeze. “Shall we go and say hello?” 

Quietly Yuta made his way towards the bed, only to hesitate one step away from grabbing onto her hand. He stared at the frail hand, a simple IV needle carefully taped on the back of her palm for a few moments; a clear look of uncertainty on his face. Yet he took a deep breath, and with a trembling hand, carefully took Y/N’s cold hand in his. “I...Hi, Y/N...” Yuta mumbles quietly into the hospital room, voice barely heard over the constant beeping of the heart monitor. “Sorry...we took awhile to visit...and sorry that Maki isn’t here...I am sure she’ll drop by when she is ready though.”

The only response he got was the sound of the steady beep of the heart monitor, to which he just tighten his grip ever so slightly on Y/N’s unmoving hand. He could hear the soft giggle that Y/N would let out at his words, and if he felt tears welling up in his eyes as he hears her voice bouncing around inside his head.

“It’s alright, Yuta-san! I am sure you were busy before that. And I know Maki-chan will come after you leave - but you didn’t hear that secret from me~”

The silence of the hospital room made Yuta sick to the stomach, the idea that he might never hear Y/N’s voice again started to really sink in. Her usually warm and familiar touch felt cold and lifeless, causing Yuta to carefully tuck her hand underneath her hospital blanket; as if he was trying to warm it up once more. “I...I am going to go grab her favourite stuffed animal from her room. I am sure she’d love to have something of comfort whilst she’s here...if you’ll excuse me.”

Without another word Yuta just walked out of the room quietly, Yuji being the only one turning to watch his senpai leave with a look of concern. Out of everyone Yuji was definitely the one who seemed to be able to hold himself together the most, so it was no surprise when he was the one that went next. “Yo, Y/N-senpai,” Yuji greeted quietly as he walked towards the hospital bed, easily dodging all the wires and such. After all, this wasn’t his first time visiting someone he cares for in the hospital. “Can you hear me? I hope you can - or not Fushiguro might lecture me for being loud.”

The other sorcerer couldn’t even find his voice whilst Yuji continues on; his voice soft yet soothing as he looks down at his senpai with nothing more but a soft smile. “I know you’re trying your hardest go come back to us, and you’d probably tell us that we’re not the ones to blame. That you’re a big girl now, and things like this happen all the time.” Yuji continues, the only indication to his change of mood was the slight quiver that was hard to hide. Yet Yuji continued on anyway. “I hope you know we miss you...and we’re worried sick that you’re in the state you are now. But I know that you need some time to rest up, and soon you’ll be back on your feet again, right? ‘Cause..b-because that’s how you’ve always been.”

Silence enveloped the room once more, with Yuji just not sure on what else to say to her as he stared at her pale face. The other three in the room sort of just huddled together, all of them unsure of what to say to her. They weren’t the best with emotional words - beside Toge, who usually doesn’t use words at all - so asking them to keep their tone in check whilst referring to their unconscious classmate is a little too much for them.

So after awhile Yuji decided to lead them out of the hospital room, giving Gojo a parting smile before he closes the door behind him. Leaving him alone as he stared at the slumbering figure of his student as he rests his elbows on his parted knees. Quietly he rests his head in his hands, eyes closed as he tried to push back the light migraine that was coming on. He hates that it is his duty to break the news to the others - her parents, her elders. Heck, he has to give a call to Nanami and Utahime to tell them the bad news. 

If it was anything else, he wound be more than excited to blow their phones up. But this? He wishes that the duty was handed to someone else - because he himself doesn’t even believe that this was happening in the first place. 

He wishes that this was all just a terrible nightmare.

Maki quietly pushed the window open as she climbed in from the roof, the doors of halls of the infirmary long going silent; cicadas chirping away in the night sky. Maki quietly stuffed her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, eyes racking over Y/N’s sleeping form, to the amount of machines that were working by her side to make sure that she’s alive. “Hey, idiot...I’ve arrived.”

Quietly she made her way towards Y/N’s bedside, her eyes clouding over with an unreadable emotion. If she was being honest, she didn’t know how to react right now. On one hand, she was pissed - she is pissed off because she could have done something to help Y/N. Maybe if she was just faster, just a bit more aware, maybe if she was training to try harder. Maybe if she can just try harder-

A loud slap sounded across the room, Maki having pulled her hand out of her pocket to slap across her cheek hard to snap out of the spiraling thoughts. The burning sting on her cheek reminded her to return to reality before she started to trash the room out of anger, something that she and Y/N had been working on for some time now. Y/N would always say, “You should never turn to anger and violence to deal with your issues!”

Maki wonders what her reaction would be if she had saw Maki slapping herself so hard that there was a light handprint on the side of her cheek. “You’re so annoying, you know that?”

With a tired sigh Maki settled down in the seat that Gojo had occupied earlier in the day, keeping her eyes on the steady heart monitor; her eyes following the spike that indicates the faint heartbeat of Y/N. “Who the hell knew that it took an entire building to really get you hurt.” Maki sigh as she tore her eyes away from the screen, looking down at her boots quietly; examining all the scuffs and scratches on marring the smooth leather. “Call me stupid, but I really thought that it’d take more than that. Remember when you had jumped out the window of the 10th floor and left with no more but a bruise? You were crying about it ‘cause you couldn’t wear dresses for about 2 weeks.”

Maki let out a tired laugh at the memory of finding Yuta trying to reassure a crying Y/N when she found the bruise on her knee; Yuta just patting her head with the most amused look on his face whilst she cried her eyes out at the idea that she can’t wear her cute dresses until it cleared up. “Imagine what will happen when you wake up from this? God, that is going to be a pain.”

A soft sigh left Maki’s lips as she glances over at the stuffed sheep that Yuta had brought from her room; along with a few more random stuffed animals that surrounded her head like a halo. This caused her to smile sadly as she rests her head on her shoulder, watching her for a few minutes without saying anything. Maki had always been bad with words and emotions; with all the things she had gone through when she was younger. Wording how she feels and emotions are not Maki’s favourite thing to deal with, since she wants to keep this badass, strong woman front she has on all the time to prove something to her elders.

“You better wake up from this, or not I am going to kick your ass.” Maki mutters after a few moments, getting up with a tired sigh before she casts her another glance at Y/N. Without missing a beat, she reaches over to brush strands of hair away from her face, warm hand resting on her head for a few moments before she places a few parting pats on her head; something she had always done when she needs to leave for a mission or a meeting outside of school. 

“‘Night, brat. Wake up soon, okay?” Maki mutters, and with a final sigh she made her way towards the window she climbed in once more, quietly shutting it behind her after she hauled herself over the railing. It was only in the dead of the night that Maki quietly lets her tears fall, biting her lip hard to stop whatever sounds that were threatening to leave her lips. 

Because at the end of the day she is stubborn, and refuses to believe that this might be her new reality.

A week had passed since the day that the others found out that Y/N had fallen into a coma of a sorts, and everyone would visit at least once just to see if there is any sight of change. That there might be a sign that she was going to wake up soon. And there were slight changes; a few days after she had been admitted she was allowed to get off the ventilator and rely on oxygen instead. But she was still in bad shape.

Nanami tries to make time to drop by to visit as well, coming over to quietly read pages of the book that he was reading. Whenever Y/N was sick, she would call Nanami over the phone and ask if the man can read to her; something about how she finds comfort in his voice that puts her at ease. And since Ieiri had encouraged them to talk to her more for stimulation, Nanami takes the time to read to her after a long day of work. It brought him some comfort as well, listening to the constant beeping of the heart monitor and the humming of the other machines around her.

Gojo would sometimes drop by as well, only to berate Nanami for his ‘boring’ book choices; and an unconscious Y/N has to endure two adults arguing about book choices and how Gojo’s titles are definitely not appropriate to even bring onto school grounds.

Besides the occasional argument, sometimes Gojo will prop his phone up against a vase of flowers that Yuji brings so that Utahime can FaceTime him; the students from the Kyoto side being able to see and talk to the slumbering Y/N. For the most part, everyone was shocked that she was in the state she was in; having never expected such a bright and talkative person can fall into such a state.

The most distraught one was definitely Todo, who had almost jumped out of his seat and make a full on dash towards Tokyo if it wasn’t for Noritoshi and Mai joining together to restrain the man, along with Principal Gakuganji threating to hold him back from their planned trip to Tokyo the following week that had him calming down.

But barely - the man is still more than ready to just up and run across the country just so he can be closer to his ‘beloved Y/N-chan’.

Every day, without fail, Toge will come into her hospital room with a new accessory to pull her hair back into; carefully brushing her hair out and applying dry shampoo so it wasn’t greasy to the touch. Once he was satisifed he’d carefully style her hair back so it didn’t get in the way of her checkups, taking his time with everything so he gets to spend more time with her. He doesn’t say much, he usually finds that doesn’t whenever he is around her; so he takes his time when he does her hair in hopes that she can feel that he is there for her.

Yuta and Megumi will find time after classes to go and visit her together, telling her about everything that had happened whilst she is asleep. Sometimes Nobara will visit as well, must for the most time she’d come alone in the evening after dinner to just rant to her about everything that she found annoying that happened over the day. Nobara usually stay until Ieiri comes to kick her out, hoping that Maki might come in as well to visit Y/N.

But Maki never does - yet everyone knows that Maki finds the time in her day to go and visit her like everyone else. However, no one dared to ask her how or when she does it. They’ve accepted that it was probably a sensitive subject to her, and that it’s off limits to ask her unless you want her to ignore you for the rest of the day. Gojo had learnt it the hard way when he had teased her, only to be thrown out the window of their classroom by an annoyed Maki.

Even his Infinity is no match for that woman’s wrath.

Days soon led into weeks, with slow but not so encouraging signs of improvement from the young girl. The elders of her clan and her parents had visited the college as soon as they can, and had kept tabs with every single thing that is going on with her. There was no denying the fear of her suddenly relapsing once more, and soon it will become too much for her parents to bear. The idea of keeping Y/N around, knowing that she is in so much pain, just for their selfish want of keeping her alive was a reality they want to avoid. 

The once vibrant and lively campus soon turned gloomy; the hallways of the school quiet without the familiar sound of bunny-themed slippers running across its worn-out flooring. The chime of a familiar giggle was missing in the air, along with a dreamy voice that just never seems to stop; no matter what time of the day it is. There were days where the others forget that Y/N was not there to make dinner for the night, or she wasn’t there when they want to ask her opinion about something. Her room, which once served as a sanctuary for the students who can’t sleep at night, now became too painful to even walk past on certain days.

Yet everyone tried their hardest to go on with their days, knowing that it was what Y/N wanted them to do. If they were to allow their grief to consume them whole, they knew the delicate routine they had rebuilt would crumble before them. And if there is one thing they can do to keep Y/N’s memory alive, is to live their lives to the fullest. To try and cherish each and every day, no matter how painful reality is without her by their side.

They have to try, for her sake.

It wasn’t until a month passed when Yuta had came running into the lunch hall, looking like he had seen a ghost as he tried to catch his breath. “Okkotsu-senpai?” Megumi asks in concern as he looks over at the older man, putting his tray down to try and give his panting senpai a hand. “Are you-” He asked, only to have Yuta put a hand up to stop him as he took a few deep gulps of air.

“A-Awake...Y/N...Y/N is awake.”

Within a few seconds the students were sprinting across campus, none of them believing what Yuta had said until they have see it for themselves. What is usually a 10 minute walk from the lunch hall took about four minutes with them sprinting, possibly annoying half of the cleaners of the school that they were breaking the no running rule. Yet they didn’t stop even at their annoyed outcries, the simple wooden door of the infirmary almost coming off its hinges at how hard Maki had thrown it open.

Maki was the one who pushed the hospital room door open, causing the people in the room to jump in shock. Including Y/N, who had let out a soft squeak of shock; her voice hoarse from not using it for so long. The others blinked in shock at the sight of Y/N’s bright eyes meeting theirs at the doorway, ones that blinked before she gave them the biggest smile she can muster.

“H-Hi.” Y/N mumbles softly, to which Nanami just gave her a rare smile as he gently rubs her back, Gojo smirking softly as he recorded the reactions of the others by the door. He had gotten over the shock a few moments ago. “Don’t strain yourself, Y/N-chan. Remember what Ieiri-sensei said about straining your voice.” The blonde man hummed before he turned his blue eyes over at the shocked students as well. “And that goes to you too. If you all stress her out, I am not against tossing you all out.”

Y/N made a noise and turned to try and reassure the older man, not noticing how the others were staring at her in shock. The first person to move was Maki, whose eyes look suspicious wet as she stormed into the room. “I am going to kill you.” She growled out loudly, to which Y/N jumped before she held her arms out for protection; feeling a shiver of fear go up her spine. Yet before she can make a move to stop her, Maki suddenly wrapped her up in a hug, the arms that Y/N held out to try and pacify her angry classmate freezing from the unnatural reaction from Maki.

Y/N blinks for a few moments before she smiles softly and wraps Maki up in her arms as well, gently patting her head as Maki silently wets her shoulder with her tears. “I know.” Y/N mumbles out softly before her eyes met the others, giving them a soft smile as she gently gestures to the others to enter her room. Soon there was just a huge ball of crying teenagers hugging one another on Y/N’s hospital bed; Gojo and Nanami having moved aside to give them more space for their reunion as they watched on from the other side of the room. “Should we stop them?”

“Nah, we might get murdered if we try.” Gojo said with a hum as he grins over the sound of intelligible crying, looking over at Nanami who had a ghost of a smile on his lips at the sight. “Besides, this is great content. I never had a video of Maki crying before.” Gojo admitted, to which Nanami’s smile dropped as he looked over at him in annoyance. 

“Why am I not surprised at all?”

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

#daydreaming!reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk imagines #jjk imagine #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru #jjk gojo x reader #jjk itadori yuji #jjk itadori x reader #jjk fushiguro megumi #jjk fushiguro x reader #jjk kugisaki nobara #jjk nobara x reader #jjk maki zenin #jjk maki x reader #jjk inumaki to/ge #jjk inumaki x reader #jjk okkotsu yuta #jjk okkotsu yuuta #jjk okkotsi x reader #gojo sensei #jjk nanami #jjk nanami x reader

[dccomicsimagines]

Stalker - Terry McGinnis x Reader

Trigger Warning - Stalker Behavior, Darker Themes

Requested by Anon - Can I request one where Terry finds out his s/o has a stalker?

***

You shivered, standing outside of school. It was a cool spring day. You wished you had worn your jacket, but the sun shining through your bedroom window this morning made you too optimistic about the weather. 

“Come on, Ter. Where are you?” you whispered, jumping up and down to warm up a little. The school bell rang. You sighed. “Late again.” You turned around to enter when a warm jacket suddenly wrapped around your shoulders. 

“I’m not late. Just almost late.” Terry chuckled in your ear. He kissed your cheek before moving ahead to open the door for you.

“For once.” You winked at him, sliding your arms into his jacket. “Come on, we’re going to be late for Literature.” 

Terry groaned, running a hand through his hair. “What’s the reading we had to do for today?” 

“The Yellow Wallpaper.” You sneaked a sniff of his jacket, enjoying his scent. Terry rubbed his eyes and missed it. “I’ll catch you up. We’re just supposed to be in discussion groups.” The two of you strolled down the hall, tempting fate as the final bell was about to ring. 

“Lucky I have you, babe. I think I’d have to drop out by now if I didn’t.” Terry wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You leaned into him, still snug in his jacket. 

“I doubt that. You’d just actually have to do your homework.” You caught his lips in a quick kiss before you both entered the classroom just as the bell rang.

***

You walked alone to the elementary school to pick up your younger siblings and Terry’s little brother, Matt. Terry’s mom and your parents paid you the big creds to babysit them every day after school. It was actually how you met Terry in the first place. 

Terry would usually try to walk with you until you met up with the kids, but today Mr. Wayne needed him earlier than normal. You pulled his jacket closer, only realizing now that you still had it. Oops. You shrugged, smiling to yourself when you got a whiff of Terry from the jacket. 

As you neared the elementary school, a shiver ran up your spine when you heard footsteps behind you. “Excuse me,” someone said from behind you. You turned, holding your bag tighter.

It was an older man, maybe mid-forties. He ran up to you. His hair was oily and his face was breaking out in hives. “Can I help you?” you asked. Something felt off about him. You took an involuntary step back when he stopped before you.

“You dropped this.” He held out keychain with a batman symbol on it. 

“Oh thank you.” You gasped, holding out your hand. He dropped it into your palm after a pause. “I can’t believe I lost it. It must have broke.”

He nodded, smiling as he stared at you. “You’re welcome.” 

You waited for him to leave, but he didn’t move. Just staring. Your stomach twisted, nerves on end. “Well, I better get going. Thanks again.” You turned and hurried away with your hand clenched around the keychain. Terry had given it to you. You usually had it on your bag. Once you turned the corner and were in front of the elementary school with a crowd of people, you opened your hand to check the keychain.

Your blood ran cold when you saw it wasn’t broken. How would it have fallen off if it didn’t break? You checked your bag, heart pounding when you saw your keychain was still attached.  Your thumb ran across the one in your hand, noting it didn’t have the scratches yours had. 

“Creepy.” You glanced over your shoulder, relieved that the man wasn’t in sight. Maybe it was a mistake? Maybe it wasn’t as creepy as you were thinking? You swallowed hard and tossed the keychain into the nearby garbage can. 

Matt and your siblings ran up to you, chattering away. You gathered them up and led them toward home. However, the entire way, you felt you were being watched.

***

“What’s wrong?” Terry frowned at you, noting how you clung to his arm as the two of you slowly stepped onto the tram. 

“Nothing’s wrong.” You let go of his arm, crossing your arms tightly. Terry led you over to a seat.

Terry sighed. He rolled his eyes. “You been like this all week. (Y/N), what’s wrong?” He sat down beside you. You scooted closer to him. 

You glanced around nervously. “I’m fine, Ter. I just want to get home.” 

“Okay.” Terry frowned and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “I just thought you wanted to spend time with me.” 

“I do.” You smiled at him. It wasn’t a real smile. Terry kissed your temple. “I’m not feeling all that great today. We can hang out at my house. My siblings are at my grandparents this weekend anyway.” 

“That would be great.” Terry felt you relax, closing your eyes as you laid your head against his shoulder. He pushed his worries aside. You probably weren’t feeling well like you said. It was probably nothing. He relaxed himself, keeping you close just in case. 

***

You stared at the keychain lying on your doorstep. Your blood ran cold with terror. It was the same batman keychain, brand new, matching the one on your bag. Your siblings were a few feet behind you as you had rushed ahead to quickly get into your house where you were safe. Clearly, it wasn’t safe anymore.

“Wow, a batman keychain,” Matt said, moving around you to pick it up. 

“Hey (Y/N), it matches yours,” your sibling said, giggling.

“Terry must have left it.” Matt made a face. “Gross.” 

“Yeah, he must have.” You painted a fake smile on your face and took the keychain from Matt. “Come on, let’s get inside. I’ll let you have whatever you want for a snack.”

The kids cheered and rushed inside once you unlocked the door. You hurried after and slammed the door shut, clicking the lock. The feeling of uneasiness didn’t leave you. 

***

“Terrance!” Bruce’s voice echoed through Terry’s ears. He jerked the batmobile into a climb to avoid crashing straight into a building. 

“Okay, okay. We’re fine.” Terry chuckled nervously, shaking his head. 

“If you crash it, you buy it.” Bruce growled. “Pay attention!”

Terry cleared his throat, turning to fly the batmobile for another lap of the city. He flew over your house and scanned the place. Everything was fine. However, the light in your room was still on. Terry glanced at the clock. It was two in the morning. “Bruce, I’m going to make a quick stop.”

“This is no time for social calls.” Bruce’s voice sharpened. 

“How about you keep an ear on the police scanner like you always do and let me know if I need to go anywhere?” Terry smirked when Bruce huffed and clicked off. “Got ya.” He flew out of the batmobile and glided toward your house. Terry balanced himself on the sill of your window.

You were in bed with the covers pulled over your head. Terry opened your window silently and stepped inside. “(Y/N).” You sat up suddenly and screamed at the sight of him. Terry’s eyes widened. He pulled off his mask. “Honey, it’s me. Hush.” 

You slapped a hand over your mouth, gasping for breath. The blood drained out of your face. Terry swore, shutting the window behind him and ducking into the closet as your family tore into the room. 

It took several long minutes for your family to leave. Terry waited, hoping Bruce didn’t catch how badly he scared you. He leaned against the wall of your closet. His mask twisted in his fist.

The closet door opened a few minutes after the room went quiet. “I’m sorry.” You hugged him, burying your face into his chest. “You scared me.” 

“I’m sorry I scared you.” Terry kissed the top of your head. “I saw your light was on, so I’d thought I would stop by.” 

You jerked away from him, blood draining out of your face. “No, no, no,” you whispered, running to the window and quickly shutting the curtains.

Terry rushed to your side. “Babe, what’s wrong?” He laid a hand on your shoulder. “Why are you so scared?” 

You looked at him, tears filling your eyes. Terry felt like he got punched in the gut. “I don’t want to talk about it. Please just hold me.” You hugged him so tight, he thought he might bruise.

“Okay, okay.” Terry hugged you back. He gently rocked you, still confused and concerned. Part of him wanted to demand you to explain, but seeing how upset you were, he couldn’t do it. So he let it go and held you until you fell asleep.

Terry gently tucked you into bed and turned off your light. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before slipping out the window, making sure to shut it securely behind him. “Bruce, you there?” 

“Are you ready to get back to work?” Bruce’s tone edged toward scolding. Terry rolled his eyes.

“I am.” He wanted to talk about your strange behavior, but he stopped himself. Bruce doesn’t know anything about relationships anyway. He’d be no help. Terry rocketed into the sky to catch the batmobile as it went by on autopilot. 

***

“Terry!” Max ran through the hall, bumping people out of the way to reach him. Terry turned to look at her, alarmed. “Come quick!”

“Where?” Terry grunted when Max grabbed his sore arm and tugged him down the hall. Max was leading him toward the school’s office. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s (Y/N). We were outside for gym class and they collapsed.” Max panted. It was only at that moment that Terry realized Max was in her gym clothes. Bruce was right, his detective skills really did need work. 

His blood ran cold. “Collapsed? Are they okay?!” Max led him into the nurse’s office. Terry ran ahead and opened a curtain to find you shaking, gasping for breath as you curled up into a ball on the bed. The school nurse seemed lost. “(Y/N), sweetheart, I’m here.” Terry sank down beside the bed, wrapping his arms around you. 

You looked at him, pupils dilated, eyes wide. “I...I...can...can’t breathe.” Tears ran down your cheeks.

“(Y/N), you need to calm down. Breathe with me.” He took a slow deep breath, looking you in the eye as he rubbed your back. You struggled at first, but eventually you slowed your breathing down with his. Terry could feel your heart calming down.

The school nurse said something about getting you some water and a snack, leaving you, Terry, and Max alone. “I’m sorry,” you said, leaning over to bury your face into Terry’s shoulder.

Terry shared a look with Max. “Okay, (Y/N). Something is clearly wrong. You got to tell us and don’t say it’s nothing,” Max began, sitting on foot of the bed. You pulled away from Terry, sniffling and grabbing a tissue from the box nearby. Terry took your hand, squeezing it gently. 

“Okay, alright.” You closed your eyes and took a shaky breath. “I think I have a stalker.”

Terry’s stomach dropped as ice cold horror washed over him. “What?!” You flinched at his tone. Max glared at him, poking him.

“Calm down, Ter. Let (Y/N) explain.” Max turned back to you. “Why do you think you have a stalker?” 

The nurse came back with water and a packet of crackers. She smiled when she saw you were calm. “Eat and drink, we’ll see how you feel. Terry and Max, you can stay with (Y/N). I’ll let your teachers know.” You took a sip of water once the nurse left again.

“Slag it. (Y/N), tell us what happened.” Terry’s hands shook. You looked at him, taking a deep breath.

“Okay. It started a month ago...”

“A month? This has been going on for a month?!” Terry got to his feet. The terror going straight to his head. 

“Terry, sit down and shut up.” Max punched his arm. Terry flinched before forcing himself to sit on the edge of the bed. 

You blinked back tears. “I...It started when I was walking to the elementary school to pick up the kids. You weren’t with me, Ter. Mr. Wayne needed you that day. I felt like someone was watching me and then someone ran up behind me. It was an older man. He handed me a batman keychain like the one you gave me, Ter, and I thought it was mine. I thanked him, but he just stared at me.” You shivered. Terry wrapped his arm around you, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest. “It creeped me out, so I left. It was then I realized that the keychain wasn’t mine. It was brand new and my keychain was still on my bag.” 

Max and Terry tensed. “That is creepy,” Max whispered, reaching out to pat your hand. 

“I threw it away, but I felt like I’ve been watched ever since.” You swallowed hard. Rogue tears slipped down your cheeks. Terry wiped them away with his thumb. “More keychains keep popping up wherever I go. There was even one on my front doorstep. I’m so scared all the time. That’s why I screamed when you visited me last night, Ter. I thought someone was breaking in to get me.” Your entire body trembled. “Even during gym class, there was one in my spot on the bench. That’s why I freaked out.” 

“Why did you not tell me?” Terry soothed, pushing down his anger and terror. It wouldn’t help you. 

“I didn’t want you to worry. Besides, I was hoping it was nothing, but it’s not. It can’t be.” You burst into tears again. Terry pulled you into his chest, sharing another look with Max. 

“I’ll go see if I can find the keychain outside,” Max whispered to Terry. She slipped out of the room.  

Terry sighed. “You’ll be fine, (Y/N). I’ll protect you. Whoever this is, they won’t get you.” 

You grabbed at his jacket tightly. “Okay.” You sniffled. “Do you think they’ll let me go home? I just want to be home now, Ter.” 

“I’ll go ask if I can take you home.” He pulled away from you. “Just relax.” You settled down on the bed, drinking the water the nurse brought you. 

Terry clenched his hands into fists. His heart burned at the thought you were in danger and he didn’t even notice. Something bad could have happened because he didn’t get the answer to your strange behavior before. He swallowed hard, going to the school nurse to talk about being able to take you home. Hopefully, Max will find that keychain for him before he left. It was time for him to use his detective skills. You needed him to.

***

“What are you doing?” Bruce asked, walking over to Terry as Terry stared at the batcomputer. Terry was running scans on the keychain Max had recovered from the school. He hated to leave you, but Max was with you, helping you watch your siblings and Matt while also keeping you safe. 

“(Y/N) has a stalker.” Terry slammed his fist against the computer when the keychain came up with nothing. “Slag it!” 

Bruce raised an eyebrow. Ace barked at him in warning. Terry forced himself to relax, rubbing his chin to think. “What do we know?” Bruce’s tone became more serious. Terry looked up to find Bruce studying the results. 

“This is a dead end. The guy didn’t leave anything on the keychain and (Y/N) didn’t keep the others.” Terry sighed. He ran a hand over his face. “There’s got to be a way to catch this dreg before he does something to (Y/N). (Y/N)’s already scared out of their mind.” 

Bruce huffed. “You need to think less directly, McGinnis.” He gestured for Terry to get out of the chair. Terry stood up, sighing as Bruce took the seat and started working on the batcomputer. “Do you know where these keychains are sold?” 

“I bought (Y/N)’s at the mall. There was a kiosk selling all these retro keychains.” Terry blinked. “Do you think we could hack into the mall’s security footage and see who was buying them?” 

Bruce’s mouth twitched into almost a smirk. “Yes.”

“(Y/N) gave me this.” Terry pressed a button to bring up your description of the man you first encountered. “This is the man who gave them the keychain the first time.” 

“Interesting.” Bruce hacked into the security and brought up footage of the kiosk. “What day did (Y/N) have the first encounter?” 

Terry rubbed his chin. “About a month ago.” He shook his head. “I’m such a dreg for not noticing sooner. They are so scared.” 

“Focus, Terrence.” Bruce frowned as the security footage fast forwarded until it stopped when it caught a person buying several batman keychains all at once. “It looks like we found our person.” 

“Wait.” Terry leaned forward to study the person. “Oh my god, I know them. They go to our school, but (Y/N) was approached by an old man with the first keychain?” 

Bruce hummed. “They probably paid the man to deliver it.” The computer popped up with the person’s school record. “Their name is Tay Diabolos. Seems like they have a shaky school attendance record and their grades are worse than yours.” 

“Geez, thanks.” Terry frowned. “But (Y/N) hasn’t had any interaction with them as far as I know. They would have told me if they were being weird.” 

“Sometimes that doesn’t matter.” Bruce brought up Tay’s address. “Go to their home, see what you can find. Don’t engage them. We’ll need to do this carefully.” Bruce glared at Terry. Terry just blushed. “I will run more tests on this keychain. My gut is telling me there is something we’re missing.”

“Mine too.” Terry patted Ace’s head before running off to get on his suit. Bruce watched him go. Ace barked, butting his head against Bruce’s leg. 

“I know. He’s probably going to make a mess of it.” Bruce scratched Ace’s ear and turned to examine the keychain in ways Terry didn’t even think of.

***

Terry turned on his optical camouflage as he neared the run-down part of Neo-Gotham. He swallowed hard, pushing aside his fear for you. Max already called him to reassure him you were fine, but his stomach was twisted in knots.

He landed on the roof of an old house that must have been built around the time Bruce was young. A smirk pulled at Terry’s lips as he thought that it was probably over a hundred years old. 

“Are you at the address yet?” Bruce’s voice suddenly filled his ear. Terry jumped, thankful Bruce wasn’t able to read minds. 

“Just arrived.” Terry climbed down and opened the second story window. “I got nothing on my heat scans, so no one is home.” 

Bruce grunted. “I told you not to rely on that too much. There are ways to cheat the scan.” 

“It’s fine.” Terry looked around the empty room he entered. He went over the door and opened it. The hallway was dirty, covered in beer cans and stains. “Looks like a party house of some sort.” 

“I found a micro tracer on the keychain. It’s cheap, only a range of two miles if even.” Bruce hummed. “He was attempting to track (Y/N). Are you sure (Y/N) never kept the keychains?”

“Yeah, they threw them away because it freaked them out. The only one still around is the one we have.” Terry’s eyes widened. “Wait, did you deactivate the tracer?”

Bruce snorted. “Of course.” Terry moved deeper into the house, following the light that peeked under one of the doors. “Remember do not engage, McGinnis. This is recon only.”

Terry didn’t respond as he peeked into the room. His heart spasmed in terror when his eyes fell onto a wall covered in pictures of you. A few were your school photos, but most were taken without your knowledge. Terry touched one that was you walking home with your siblings. “Are you seeing this?”

“This has been going on longer than we thought.” Bruce sighed deeply. 

“Oh no, no, no.” Terry’s blood ran cold when he saw strands of your hair pinned to the wall. “The dreg has (Y/N)’s hair.” His hand clenched into a fist, rage pounded into his chest. 

“Terrance, calm down. Remember this is recon.” Bruce’s voice was so calm. Terry wanted to snap back at him, but snapping at Bruce never did any good. “Is there any sign of plans?”

Terry shook his head, clearing the red rage from his vision. He let out a slow breath. “No, this looks more like a shrine to (Y/N).” Terry knelt down to access the computer on the floor next to the shrine. One tap, and he gave Bruce remote access. 

“It looks like they ordered flowers for (Y/N) tomorrow.” Bruce’s rapid typing filled Terry’s ears. Terry felt sick to his stomach. 

“That’s it. I got to go be with (Y/N). This freak is going to do something.” Terry got to his feet. He froze when he heard a door open downstairs. “Slag it. Someone’s home now.” 

“Get out of there. I’ll search the computer some more.” Bruce clicked off. Terry shivered, eyeing the shrine of you one more time before slipping out of the window and rocketing into the sky. 

***

“Terry, are you sure? Doesn’t Mr. Wayne need you today?” You asked, wrapping a blanket around yourself as you curled up on your couch in your living room. The window curtains were all tightly closed.

“No, he doesn’t, and my mom called the school to get me off today too.” Terry sat down next to you, pulling you into his arms. “I’m here to stay.” 

You had stayed home from school once you explained to your parents what was happening. They called the police, but of course, they couldn’t do anything since Tay hadn’t actually done anything. Terry could see the trembling of your hands, how the color drained from your face. This was making you sick.

“Thanks Ter.” You relaxed into him. “I hate this. Why did this person have to do this to me?” 

“They’re sick.” Terry bit his lips. “(Y/N), do you know someone named Tay Diabolos?”

You blinked. “Yeah, they go to our school. I had science with them before they got kicked out for mixing cleaners and almost killing the class with the fumes.” You looked up at Terry curiously. “Don’t you remember? I had to go to the hospital with Blade and Zip. We got the worst of it.” 

Terry’s eyes widened. “Wait, isn’t that when I got you the keychain? I picked you up from the hospital and took you to the mall where we got it from...that’s it!” Terry got to his feet suddenly. Your eyes widened at the sight. 

“What’s it?” You bit your lip.

“The connection. I was trying to think why. I couldn’t remember why Tay would start doing this.” Terry sank down to kneel on the floor beside you. “That must have been the event to start their obsession.” 

“Obsession?” Terry could see the terror wash over you. Right, he didn’t tell you about the shrine he found.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” Terry took your hand. “I’ll handle it, okay?”

“Okay.” You gave Terry a weak smile as you squeezed his hand. “Just be careful.”

“Always.” Terry leaned forward to kiss your lips sweetly. For the first time in a long time, you seem relieved.

***

“I think I should fly down there and scare them away from (Y/N),” Terry said as he paced the cave. Bruce and Ace sat by the batcomputer, watching him. 

“Ter, you know that will cause more problems. How does Batman know Tay is stalking a classmate? Why is Batman involving himself in a stalker case?,” Max said, eyeing the huge cave around her. It took a long time, but Bruce finally let her into the cave. She wandered over to look at the old costumes display. Bruce eyed her with slight disapproval.

“True.” Bruce stuck his cane out and tapped Terry’s leg. 

Terry stopped pacing, crossing his arms. “I was thinking I would confront him as myself.” 

“No. That will just make things worse.” Max snapped and turned to look at Terry with wide eyes. “Clearly, Tay was triggered by seeing you with (Y/N). That’s the reason for the keychains. They must have seen you buy one for (Y/N).” 

“Then what am I supposed to do?! This is killing (Y/N)! I’m sick and tired of seeing them scared out of their mind!” Terry threw his hands up in the air. Ace barked at him, nervous from his outburst. 

“Calm down, McGinnis,” Bruce said sternly, turning around in his chair to study the computer. “We need to go through normal channels. I’ve spoke to Barbara Gordon, she says she can help (Y/N) get a restraining order, but we need evidence first.” 

“Aren’t the keychains enough?” Max asked, coming to Bruce’s side to watch the security footage of your house. They had installed it just in case. 

Bruce shook his head. “No, (Y/N) threw most of them away. Besides, there is no evidence that Tay gave them the keychains. They covered their tracks well.” 

A groan came from Terry as he pulled at his hair. His phone beeped. He picked up the phone once he saw it was you. The sound of your tears met his ear, his blood turned to ice water.

“Terry, there’s a message on our machine,” you whispered. Your voice breaking with a sob. “It’s from Tay. He said he left a present for me outside...”

“It’s okay. Just have everyone stay inside.” Terry ran over to the batcomputer, having to focus to keep his voice calm and even. Max and Bruce watched in concern when Terry had the batcomputer zoom in on the footage of your front step to show another batman keychain lying there. 

“Oh my god.” Max gasped. “But we were watching the whole time.” 

Bruce hummed, a scowl on his face. He reached over to pet Ace, who was getting jumpy from the energy of the room. “Terry, I can’t live like this anymore,” you said.

“Hush. I’ll take care of it. I swear.” Terry’s heart was ready to pound out of his chest. He wanted to fly over to Tay’s house and beat the life out of him. “Just stay inside. Leave the keychain where it’s at. I’ll be there soon.” 

“Okay.” You hung up the phone, but not before Terry heard a full out sob burst out of you. 

“I think I have an idea.” Bruce got to his feet and walked over to the workbench to get his pill bottle. Terry stared at his phone, lost in his own tortured imagination. “We need to get Tay off the streets, and the best way to do that is to catch them for another crime.”

“Another crime?” Max put her hands on her hips. “But isn’t harassing (Y/N) enough?” 

Bruce grunted. “No. Harassment is messy. It rarely sticks unless you have hard evidence which we don’t have.” Bruce leaned on his cane as he picked up his pills and swallowed them dry. 

Terry stuck his phone back in his pocket. “You have a plan I assume?” He ran over to the changing area to switch into his suit.

“I do. From what I seen in the vid from your search of Tay’s home, I saw evidence of slappers.” Bruce walked back to the batcomputer and sat down. 

“Oh, so we get Tay for drug possession, which should get them away from (Y/N).” Max grinned. “Sway idea, Mr. Wayne.” 

“Yeah, sway.” Terry ran out of the changing area in full Batman mode. He hopped into the batmobile. “Keep me updated on what I need to do, but I have to check on (Y/N) first.”  The batmobile zoomed off. 

***

After Terry made sure your house was secure and you were calmed down, he followed Bruce’s lead to Tay’s house once again. “What’s your plan?”

“Find evidence of slappers in Tay’s house, make probable cause for the police to enter,” Bruce said firmly. “If we can get Tay on drug possession charges, they can get off the streets and get the help they need.”

“And (Y/N) will finally feel safe again.” Terry rocketed out of the batmobile and landed on the roof of the house next door. “There’s a party going on.” Tay’s house was raging, filling with people drinking, laughing, dancing. Loud music boomed out of the opened windows. 

“This might be to our advantage. The noise alone will be probable cause.” Bruce hummed. “But we need to make sure the police find the slapper evidence and connect it to Tay.” 

Terry grunted, turning on his optical camouflage and glided toward the house. He slipped through the open window, avoid the people in the room as he slipped through the open door to the hallway. It took him a full minute to get into the room where the shrine was since a couple was making out against it. They finally moved and Terry slipped inside. 

Tay was in the room, luckily facing away from the door and didn’t see it seemly open on it’s own. It took every ounce of will for Terry not to rip into them when he saw them adding another photo to the shrine. He paled when it was a photo of your bedroom window, showing you hugging Terry with Terry still clearly in his batsuit. 

“Damn,” Terry whispered under his breath. Suddenly, a smirk pulled at his lips. He turned off his camouflage. 

“Terry, what are you doing?” Bruce asked sharply. 

“Tay Diabolos.” A wave of satisfaction washed over Terry when Tay jerked, turning around in surprise. “I need to have a word with you.” 

Tay laughed. “You think I’m scared, Terry McGinnis.” Tay pulled out a gun, aiming it at Terry’s chest. “You aren’t good enough for (Y/N).”

“You think I’m Terry McGinnis?” Terry laughed darkly. “You aren’t very smart, but then again, you wouldn’t be if you can’t notice what you’re doing to (Y/N) is criminal.” 

“Don’t mock me!” Tay fired the gun. Terry easily dodged by stepping aside.

“Careful of the civilians around you, Terry. I’ll make an anonymous call to the police,” Bruce said. The slight approval in Bruce’s voice made Terry’s heart soar. 

Terry shot out a batarang and knocked the gun from Tay’s hand. “Leave (Y/N) alone.” He marched forward, picking Tay up by the front of their shirt. “If I ever see you even look at them again, I’ll pound you into the pavement. The police would have to take a DNA test to identify your body.” 

“You won’t stop me.” Tay spit in Terry’s face. Terry held back a flinch. “I’ll be with (Y/N). I love them more than you ever could, McGinnis.” 

Terry grunted and dropped Tay only to throw a quick jab at their jaw. Tay dropped like a pile of bricks. 

“Well, you certainly made a mess now.” Bruce’s voice filled Terry’s ears. 

“We’ll figure it out. The suit can still be on autopilot mode, right?” Terry took the photo of himself and you and slipped it into his pocket.

Bruce hummed. “Yes, but you’ll need to move fast. The police are incoming.”

Terry grunted, climbing out the window of the room and flying through the air toward your house.

***

“I’m telling you the truth! Terry McGinnis is Batman!” Tay shouted, fighting against the restraints as the cops tried to put him into the car. Barbara put her hands in her pockets and glanced back at Batman who stood a few feet away.

“Right.” Another car pulled up and Terry exited. Barbara smiled. “And how is it he can be in two places at once?”

The blood drained out of Tay’s face as they looked between Terry and Batman. “It’s a trick! He planned this! I’ll get (Y/N) away from you! I swear it!” 

“Enough.” The cops pushed Tay into the car and slammed the door to lock him inside. 

Barbara patted Terry’s shoulder as Batman suddenly rocketed off into the sky into the waiting batmobile. “Tay won’t be bothering (Y/N) anytime soon. We have enough evidence to keep him in juvie for quite some time.” 

“And the evidence for the restraining order?” Terry asked, biting his lip to keep from smirking in delight. The cops drove Tay away. Their shouts could still be heard through the vehicle. 

“Being processed. We’ll hand it over to (Y/N)’s lawyer in the morning.” Barbara sighed. “I’ll let you deliver the news to (Y/N).” 

“Thanks.” Terry hopped back into the car and drove back to your place. 

“So it worked?” Bruce asked through the comlink in Terry’s ear. “And slow down, that’s my car you’re driving.” 

Terry laughed. “It worked. Tay looked crazy.” He bit his lip, slowing down a bit. “Did the suit get back to the cave alright?”

“Yes, it just arrived with the batmobile. I’ll shut down autopilot mode.” Bruce hummed. “I assume you’re going to (Y/N)’s.”

“Of course.” Terry’s foot hit the gas again. “I’ll check in tomorrow.”

Bruce grunted. “Right.” He hung up bluntly as he always did. Terry shook his head, unable to keep the grin off his face. 

***

You shivered, pulling your jacket tighter around you. Taking a step outside your front door, you sighed in relief when you weren’t frozen from anxiety. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Terry said, running up the steps to you. You laughed and jumped into his arms. 

“Hey yourself.” Terry spun you around. You screamed when he almost toppled down the stairs. “Are you ready for the club?”

“I am.” Your face hurt from how much you were smiling. “I want to dance the night away.” 

Terry ran down the stairs with you still in his arms. “Sway, because I’m ready to dance with you all night too.” 

“Put me down.” You patted his shoulders. Terry set you down, keeping his arm around your waist. You kissed his cheek as you both started down the street. “And thank you.”

“For what?” Terry smirked at you. His hand squeezed your hip. 

You looked into his eyes. “Oh, you know.” The words didn’t dare leave your lips, keeping the fear at bay.

Terry smiled before kissing you passionately on the lips. You melted into him, content and safe in his arms.

#terry mcginnis #terry mcginnis x reader #terry mcginnis imagine #batman #batman imagine #batman x reader #batman beyond #batman beyond imagines #batman beyond x reader #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert

[desiraypark]

May I request are you are jealous?with Clyde thank you

Hi there! Thanks for the request! 4. "Are you...jealous?" from the Friends to Lovers Prompt list

Clyde Logan x Reader Content: A little angst; fluff; memories (Reader has a brother/parents); a little Logan-universe building

"Hello?"

"Hey, stranger!" you teased over the phone.

Clyde chuckled. "I ain't no stranger. Just been busy."

"Mm-hmm," you hummed. "I was just wonderin' when are we gonna make our way to Charleston."

Way back in the day--every summer--your parents and the Logans next door started this thing where they took you kids for a scenic ride to the city for a day of fun. Over the years, bits and pieces of this tradition were upheld because things changed so much.

Jimmy, Clyde, and Mellie were raised by their grandparents, so there came a point where Mama and Paw-Paw Logan got too cranky for the long rides. Plus, you kids were getting old to be driven around, anyway. Within a few short years, the rides to Charleston became a thing for "the kids"--you, your brother, and the Logan kids, that is.

Everyone piled into Jimmy or your brother's raggedy car, and you all decided to live free and wild for a day. At least, before the sun went down, anyway. But soon, your brother moved away; Jimmy got married. Clyde had ran off and joined the military. Mellie had lost interest in the annual tradition, and you being the only one who hadn't made any significant changes in their life, you simply got a regular job, moved into a regular apartment, rode the regular bus to work and ate regular food.

But when Clyde came back home and started to find his footing in civilian life again, the two of you picked things back up. Clyde couldn't do haunted houses or hayrides anymore. So, the rides to the city became your new Halloween/autumn tradition. Every weekend--just after Halloween--the two of you would find a place to park on the weekend and walk up and down the sidewalk--stepping into little shops and museums; tasting every pumpkin flavored, sweet potato pie, or candy apple thing available.

"Oh, I don't know. It's hard to say..." Clyde responded to your question. You rolled your eyes.

"Well, are you busy next Saturday?" you asked impatiently.

"Yeah. Me and Danielle are goin' on a date."

You felt the prickles in your skin as heat rushed your body. It was so silly. Of course, he was going on a date with his girlfriend. He had a right to that. But you were still his friend, too.

"Okay, cool. Well, I'll just talk to you later, then," you said. Then, you hung up the phone and tossed it on your sofa. Before you could get to your kitchen, the phone rang.

"Yes?" you answered.

"What's all that about?" Clyde asked, oblivious to what was going on in your mind and your heart.

"What?"

"Why'd you hang the phone up on me?" he asked. You could hear the pout in his voice.

"I didn't. I called and asked a question, I got an answer," you responded defiantly.

Then, it was quiet on the other side of the line. You folded your arms and tapped your foot on your carpeted floor.

"Anything else?"

"Are you...jealous?" Clyde asked.

Your face contorted. You very well could have vomited right into the receiver from embarrassment. But...he was right. There was no other word for it. You absolutely were jealous.

But how dare Clyde even fix his mouth to actually say it out loud?

"No, I am not jealous. Goodnight."

You wished you had a landline. Nothing would have satisfied you more than to slam the phone down on Clyde. But you pressed your 'end' button once more, tossed your phone onto the sofa, and fought back tears. Despite your efforts, warm tears ran down your hot, angry, and sad face and you walked to the kitchen. You warmed up your leftover Chinese takeout, and plopped down on your sofa.

You'd only taken a few bites of your foot before you placed it on the coffee table, grabbed your throw blanket, curled up in a ball on the couch and sobbed. You shook and cried and cursed yourself for being a fool. Even more, you cursed yourself for revealing yourself to be a fool. A jealous and damned near possessive fool.

You cried yourself to sleep, but before you could even begin to dream, your doorbell rung...

#clyde logan x reader

[sukirichi]

earned it [06]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. attempted murder and suicide, angst ig i feel nothing at this point because NAOYA 😭

notes. i’m rolling with the earned it jokes that reader is shippable with everyone so HAH enjoy this chapter because I didn’t enjoy the last LMAO (IM SO EXCITED FOR TOJI TO APPEAR!)

series masterlist

Your muscles throbbed, the pounding of your heart felt even through your skin. You’ve spent hours in the training room, taking punch by punch, landing blow by blow – yet no matter how hard you tried, you kept falling on your ass. At this point, your backside was beyond sore, skin drenched with sweat and clothes sticking uncomfortably to the surface. Meanwhile, your ‘savior’ barely felt the need to catch his breath, instead gazing down at you with disappointment written all over his face.

“Why do you expect so much from me?” you panted, fists clenched on the mat. “Didn’t you tell me you just needed me to get your money back and that’s it? I didn’t ask for you to do anything so stop telling me I’m indebted to you all the time.”

Naoya clicked his tongue, clearly disappointed by your lack of resolve. Above you, he swept up his cane and finally balanced himself. You previously thought he didn’t struggle because he looked so calm and composed, easily overpowering you even with his injury, but his lips were strained, jaw clenched tight that perhaps he was just good at concealing his pain. It made you shut up and watch his every move; his back faced you – probably to hide whatever fleeting moment of vulnerability he had.

“I won’t always be there to save your sorry life,” he said calmly, “You need to learn how to be strong on your own no matter how tough it gets. Now if you’ll keep complaining instead of finishing your training, I could happily lock you up and force you to do my dirty work for me.”

“Then why don’t you go ahead?!”

“I don’t want to,” Naoya responded without missing a beat. He easily closed the distance with a few staggered steps, his head tilted to the side as he surveyed you.

You wondered what went through his mind. Did he see a weak woman? A woman who must be so helpless, so useless that you stayed there, legs too tired and muscles aching too much you couldn’t move? There was no telling with Naoya, and his guarded gaze didn’t help either. Satoru had always been difficult to read at most, but with Naoya – it was practically impossible.

Even as he cupped your chin and twisted it sideways, his eyes narrowed over all your features like he saw something you didn’t, he was too guarded.

“I need you in taking down Gojo Satoru. In order to accomplish that, I have to use his weakness against him. You showing up won’t be enough. No, I want to hurt him…and what better way than to take what was once his, right? Dangle right in front of his eyes what he let go of, make him regret his actions?” his smile turned dark, and for the first time since you’ve met him, you got a glance of what his heart really looked like.

It wasn’t true that Naoya was heartless – no, he just had a dark, sinister heart that didn’t beat the same tune as others. He played his own music with the bones of his enemies, drinking their lifeline from a gold cup and drowning in them, his ominous laughter the perfect antithetical melody of what could’ve been angelic hums.

“Don’t you want that?”

His question made your heart skipped a beat. This whole time, you’ve been so hell bent on achieving something, but what you wanted to reach had never been clear. You were too driven by emotions, by the pain Satoru’s absence had caused, and now that the opportunity was presented before you, you faltered.

“I don’t know what I want.”

“Well, if you ask me what I want…” he tilts your chin up with his finger “It would be to see you strong enough that even you would be capable of taking me down. So be strong, keep fighting – I’ll be there with you every step of the way. You only have one job, and that is to live. I am not allowing you to give up at the slightest of minor inconveniences.”

“And if I get weak?” you questioned with an oscillating tremor, the bite of his cold skin against your heated ones spiking. “If I want to give up? Would I fail you then?”

“I don’t think you’re someone who cares about failing others, so don’t fret whether you’d please me or not,” Just like that, Naoya’s scornful tone had risen again. He let go of you until you dropped down to your palms, blinking back at the sudden change of atmosphere. “Like I said, just do what you need to do, keep going. Don’t look back or be afraid to take the next big step because I’ll always be there right beside you.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“I’m not asking you to, princess,” he snickered, already half way to the door that only he was allowed to go in. Even though you’ve been staying in his manor for quite some time, there were still some things Naoya didn’t trust you with, leaving you only more curious to find out the secrets within.

“Only time will tell. But once you’ve made your decision, know that my ring is always waiting beside your table,” his voice echoed through the large room, stopping in his tracks to look at you once more. This time, he had no haunting features, only the cold emptiness likened to staring back to an infinite void of nothingness.

“I expect an answer when I get home.”

You still remembered the day you decided to wear his ring. Naoya had come then, tired and aggravated from matters he didn’t bother explaining. You stood on his doorway, lips shut tight as you nervously fiddled with your ring, unsure if whether you should tell him or allow him to piece the puzzle himself.

Thankfully, Naoya was a lot more observant than you gave him credit for.

His eyes slid over your face before he followed the motion of your fingers, smirking as the jewel glinted under the bright lights of his home. Wise choice, he’d once told you, and you believed it.

Your life hadn’t been the same ever since. Your spontaneous marriage equated to hellish training of perfecting your image as his trophy wife, spending hours in his secret laboratory and discussing business plans through a glass of wine. Naoya wasn’t around much to teach you everything and it pained him to be your own trainer too so you had to ask help from his guards, refusing to give up and fall down even as your muscles screamed at you to take a break. For Naoya, with Naoya, giving up and running away felt like a myth; a buried solution in the past that should never be brought up again. But now that he was gone, you did exactly that.

You’d given up. Satoru had made you run away.

“Miss,” a deep voice cut you from your thoughts. You tore your gaze away from the  glowing night city of Milan to turn to Satoru’s right hand man, the tall figure looming rather shyly instead of imposingly. “You haven’t eaten since we got here. Would you like anything? Mr. Gojo will cover your expenses.”

“I want to go home.”

He froze at your deadpan statement. Finally meeting your gaze under his lashes, Geto pursed his lips. “You know we can’t do that, Miss. It’s unsafe back in Japan.”

“And who’s to say Toji won’t follow us here?” you snapped, pushing your weight off the Cleopatra set and uncrossing your legs. “Why can’t your stupid boss just activate the account and give it back to us? I think we’ve made it clear we’re more than capable of handling our finances, and I’m pretty sure Satoru doesn’t need any more money when he can afford all this.”

“Mr. Gojo…has his reasons for everything he does.”

You laughed bitterly. Maybe it was the fact that Satoru had left this morning for whatever business he had that you didn’t have anyone else to let your anger out to that you’d swiped your gun under your thigh holster and dashed his way.

Geto’s back slammed against the wall, the cool barrel of your gun pressed to his jaw. He swallowed nervously, eyes darting to your weapon, and you laughed heartlessly. “Oh, please, do tell because nothing makes sense,” you crooned, flipping the safety off and letting your heated gaze meet his rather docile ones. You almost felt bad for him. Almost.

“I could easily put a bullet through your head and hijack his plane. I’ll be gone before you know it and who’s to stop me from doing that? Why should I stay here any longer with you?”

“Because your husband asked you to,” Geto responded softly. You stepped back with wide eyes, yesterday’s event crashing all over you once again. He must’ve sensed you no longer held any hostility because he used his pointer finger to move the barrel away from him, gently peeling your hands off his suit. “Because you know, if you go back to Japan, there will be nothing waiting for you there.”

You balled your fists. “I will kill Fushiguro Toji myself. Then I’ll kill Satoru.”

“Even if he used to be your lover?”

“Especially because he used to be my lover.”

Okay…maybe your plan of escaping and returning to Japan hadn’t worked out that well. Exhaustion finally crept up to your senses that you passed out not long after attacking Geto – who reassured you to no end he wasn’t mad you tried to kill him – and days have passed ever since. You hated to admit it, but being stuck in an overseas hotel wasn’t so bad. Geto’s presence was a lot more comforting than his master’s that you didn’t mind having him watch your every move. Plus, he was really nice to immediately follow your every whim. You wanted hot chocolate? Extra pillows? A really expensive wine that you refused to pay for because you were petty and dramatic? He provided it all without question.

Except he probably should have, because you’d stripped off to your underwear, head tipped back to take one final swig of the nearly empty bottle as you slid deeper into the tub.

Your fiery nature of rolling your eyes at Satoru every time he came around (which was rare, for some reason) couldn’t fool anyone – not even yourself. The moment Geto retired to the living room, you would bite the pillows to muffle your cries, thinking back to when Naoya was still alive. It was an endless torment of what if you had stayed, what if you had pushed the rubble off him, what if you just saved him?

Would he still be alive? Would he have survived? Would you be back with him in the Zen’in Estate instead of holding your breath under the tub in a desperate attempt to conceal your tears?

It hurt so bad. It hurt everywhere.

Your lungs begged you to rise up and breathe, but you stayed still under the water, eyes shut tight and hands clenched around the tub’s edges so hard your knuckles turned white. Soon, you grew dizzy and your grip slipped away. Finally, fucking finally, you were falling, falling way too deep that your legs bent inside the tub. Bubbles erupted from your lips in one last breath. At the back of your mind, you let out a sincere laugh for you’d meet your husband soon. He’d be disappointed, probably scold you all the way to the afterlife – until strong arms pulled you out of the tub and into someone’s chest instead.

“Shit, what are you doing?! You could’ve drowned!”

You coughed out water and fisted Satoru’s button-up shirt that had now clung to his skin from the water. Looking around you, you were still very much alive, the uncomfortable twisting of your heart a painful reminder of that. Above you, Satoru sat you in his lap while he remained cross-legged on the floor, muttering curses under his breath as he wrapped a towel around you.

Scoffing, you pushed his hands away, though you kept the towel anyway to lessen your shivering. Why the fuck was the AC so damn strong here?

“Dying seems like a better option, don’t you think?” you snarled at him, teeth chattering from the chill that had begin to seep in.

Momentarily, you worried on how much of a hot mess you probably looked like. Smudged eyeliner, wine-stained lips, unbrushed hair and remnants of the wine mixing with the once clear bath water – you shook your head at the thought and glared at Satoru.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“I was out contacting friends to ask for help. We’re going to need a hundred pairs of eyes watching anywhere that Toji could possibly come through.”

“Is this your pathetic idea of ‘keeping me safe’? Locking me up in this stupid hotel and having your man watch me all the time?” you pushed yourself off him, the sudden motion of standing up giving you wobbly legs. Satoru reached over to steady you but you slapped his hand away, your glare warning him to not take another step.

Seeing his face, seeing him worried as if he didn’t just cause your life to turn into absolute hell, you wanted to grab the wine bottle and smash it right at his pretty face. He had no right to look at you with pity.

You hated him, utterly and terribly despised this man with your entire being.

“What are you really planning, Satoru? Why can’t we just come back home and attack Toji with all we’ve got? Why don’t you just give back our fucking money so we can end all this for once and for all and I can leave?!”

“Because I don’t have the money!”

“What?”

“The money…” Satoru’s back slid off the wall, his palm coming up to thread through his hair. He sounded weak, defeated. “I don’t have it.”

“Gojo,” you snatched him by the collar, teeth bared as you demanded, “What do you mean you don’t have it?”

Satoru paled. “When I stole the money from the Zen’ins, the figures were all fake. They’re not real, there’s no actual money hidden behind their accounts and it was too late before I realized that,” his lips trembled as he continued, “Whatever Toji placed in there, it’s not his actual account where he hides everything and it would make sense too because I stole it too easily – almost as if they wanted me to take it. A few hacks here and there and it was immediately wired to me but after meeting you…” Satoru shook his head, chin dropped down low. “I checked again and the account never existed. It’s a fake one. The digits are just there for show.”

“So then why would Toji want it? Why did my husband have to die for nothing?!”

“I don’t know, okay, I don’t know anything!” he argued back until your faces grew closer, his nose brushing with yours.

Somehow, you couldn’t pull away. His knees had drawn up, forcing you to rest on his thighs as you both breathed heavily, your grip on his collar almost havered.

“Whatever the Zen’ins are hiding, that’s beyond me. I may be in the business for far longer than they have, but they have always been notorious with their possessions that I’m not surprised even I can’t find where it really leads back to. Whatever Toji is hiding there, your husband must’ve known something about it. Why else would they fight tooth and bone over it?”

“If there was, Naoya would’ve told me about it.”

“He would if he trusted you,” Satoru suddenly grabbed your wrist and shook it until you stared at your ring. “How are you even so sure he could trust you with that information? Have you forgotten you’re just a pawn to his game and you’re nothing but a bed warmer?”

“Don’t you ever speak about us that way. You don’t know how much he cared for me.”

“If he really did, then why didn’t he tell you why his cousin is after you? He’s using you as bait, Y/N. I’m not the bad guy here. That man you’re so deeply in love with? I can’t guarantee he’s better than me. We’re all men in the mafia, love is the last thing we would care about.”

You pushed yourself off him.

His words stung too much, not because it was a lie, but because you know there was some sort of truth ringing behind it. You trudged out of the bathroom and sat on the bed, unstirred by the fact you dripped all over the carpeted floor. From behind you, Satoru’s rushed footsteps echoed, but you didn’t care. You simply threw on a robe with your back turned to him.

“And you’d know that better than everyone right? Considering how easy it was for you to leave me?” When Satoru didn’t respond, you chuckled humorlessly and sat on the bed. “What Naoya and I had…it was a friendship that healed my soul. I don’t…I don’t know what to do without him.”

“Friendship?”

You smiled sadly. “I wasn’t actually in love with him, idiot. Men like Naoya don’t know what love is, but he sure does know how to protect family.”

The notion of talking about him, of accepting that maybe he really was gone…somewhat reliving.

Satoru was the last person you wanted to talk to your late husband about, but Geto – which is the much better company – wasn’t around, and you hugged your knees to yourself, refusing to let Satoru see through your vulnerability.

“You know, I trusted him more than I did myself. He was always there for me, no matter what. His soul was dark, angry, corrupted – he’s not the man I would fall for, but despite all that, he was the friend I needed,” you buried your face in your knees, voice muffled as you cried, your heart shattering again and again and again.

The ring on your finger had never felt so heavy ever since you wore it.

“I loved him as much as I hated you.”

Satoru was silent, so much so that you wondered if he was even in the same room at all. You sat there crying, too hopeless to even try to conceal it anymore. Shivering, you close your eyes and forced the image of Naoya’s last moments away from your memories, desperately praying to whoever had mercy that you could just forget all about it.

“Geto told me you tried to kill him,” Satoru murmured after a beat, “You could’ve easily escaped and went back to Japan if you wanted to, so why didn’t you? Was it because of me?”

You remembered what you tried to do today.

Just like that, Naoya was alive once more. You were brought back to the day of your wedding when he’d clasped your sweaty, clammy hands in his, rubbing some warmth in them before pressing a kiss at the top of your knuckles. He’d asked you to promise him something then – an entire contrast from his constants orders over your well-being – and it was a promise you’d momentarily forgotten; a promise you’d broken out of mourning.

“Naoya once told me,” you reminisced through dry, cracked lips and even more shattered heart, the picture of his disappointment as clear as day. “Death was the only place he can go where he would never allow me to follow.”

It took a lot, but it somehow got better. After allowing yourself a faint moment of weakness where Naoya resurfaced in your mind to remind you of our promise and your purpose, you felt stronger, somewhat steadier with each step you took. You were still wary around Satoru, although that was a given.

His friend, Geto, was really nice, on the other hand, and you couldn’t explain why you always lowered your guard around the formal dark-haired assistant.

You and Geto were playing chess when Satoru barged in out of nowhere, a plate and a syrup condenser on his hand. “So I got you breakfast,” was his greeting, nodding at Geto once as a silent order to give you two privacy. You pouted as the latter left, but soon your attention had been diverted to the heavenly aroma filling in your senses. Seeing your approval, Satoru hid a smile behind his dark sunglasses. “Still like pancakes?”

“Trying to get into my good graces now?”

“I’m just trying to cheer you up.”

You rolled your eyes but snatched the plate from him anyway. “So I talked to my lawyer,” you begun, pouring syrup all over the fluffy bread until it was almost spilling to the sides. Beside you, Satoru’s snickers were barely muffled, to which you ignored wholeheartedly. “They’ve already processed my inheritance over Naoya’s possessions and assets. Once we return to Japan, I’ll be the next leader of the Zen’in Clan, much to the disappointment of his elders, of course, but they can’t do anything about it,” you informed him with your fork hanging in mid-air, the words falling thickly. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

“That we’re back to being enemies?”

You offered him a sarcastic smile. “Naoya lied about strengthening his alliance with your family. He doesn’t actually give a fuck about you.”

“I figured that much,” he snickered to himself, shifting his weight until his elbows rested on his thighs. “Listen…a friend of mine is flying to Milan tonight to meet us. They have strong connections with banks all over the world and they brought in some information about that hidden Zen’in account. I think we’re finally getting off to somewhere and finding out what really is in there,” Satoru gauged for your reaction, but you kept eating – more like stuffing the pancakes inside your mouth for you were finally free of having to act perfect without your husband.

Satoru’s hand landed on top of yours. “I promise…I’ll give it back to right where it belongs. As soon as it’s wired back to you, I’m setting you free.”

You stared at the unwanted figure over you, and you snatched your hand back, waving a bread knife below his lashes. “You can’t set me free when I was never yours,” you sang breathily, the tip of the blade hovered right at his lips. Satoru raised a brow at you, but you quickly retrieved the knife back with widened eyes. “Now that you mention it…I think Naoya told me something about his family stashing secret weapons and even heirlooms through offshore accounts and buried under islands. He was a little sleepy during that time but I remember it,” pushing the plate away from you as you lost your appetite, you clutched your palms under your chin in thought. “He said he was looking for something he lost as a child, possibly an heirloom.”

“He’s doing all this for heirlooms?” Satoru immediately coughed his words back when you glared at him, raising his hands in surrender. “I mean, I was just saying. I didn’t think he was a sentimental type of guy.”

“The question here is what both Toji and Naoya could’ve both wanted from that account. It’s not just an heirloom, obviously there’s something there worth more than money,” You argued and slapped your knees, heading straight to your (unfortunately) shared room. “Whatever. I’ll get this over with as soon as I get the money back.”

Satoru, as always, was hot on your heels. It annoyed you how he trailed over you like some sort of puppy or shadow – Naoya had always been too classy to not give you space.

The difference between them just kept getting more and more uncannily obvious.

“Whoa there, stop. Did you really think I’d give back the money to you and that’s it? Are you forgetting the fact Toji is out there to kill you just so he can have his hands on it?”

“He can have the money for all I fucking care,” you shrugged and sat on your bed, scrolling through numerous piles of emails and records that Naoya entrusted you to keep. Surely you could find something. “I just need to find whatever Naoya’s spent his whole life killing for.”

“Why don’t you care about the money? Didn’t Naoya expect you to take over his business?”

Your thumb froze over a file. Suddenly, your throat grew dry, and you quickly flashed Satoru a stinky eye. “I-it’s not my main concern.”

“It’s not safe for you. If Toji finds out—”

Got it. You bookmarked an email Naoya had forwarded you around three years ago and resent it to an old friend, pocketing the phone back to your pyjamas before Satoru could see. “I’ll handle it. I’ve been doing well so far before you came into our lives again,” you finalized, stopping for a bit as you waited for that all-too familiar footfall matching with yours, only for the room to be coated in silence.

Satoru stood there on the other side of the room, eyes deep in thought before he sighed. “I’ll meet you at the hotel restaurant tonight. We have a lot to discuss on what our next move should be,” nodding once, Satoru left the room.

The hotel room was eerily silent.

Dinner came around faster than you expected. With Geto out to run some errands for Satoru, something about ‘establishing bases’ or whatever, you were locked in your room, using Naoya’s black card to get enough amount of clothing to last you for your stay here. Even though Satoru had promised he’d take care of everything, you didn’t want to be in his debt for any longer. You weren’t his, you were Naoya’s, and you shot down his curious looks when heaps of shopping bags had been delivered to your door.

An hour later, you left the room, struggling to zipper the back of your dress. Satoru was already in the living room buttoning up his suit jacket, just as handsome as ever (though you’d never tell him that.)

His hands froze in the last button once his eyes landed on you, and you huffed at him, too distressed to even act cute or bothered while pointing to your dress. Satoru strode to you in three long steps, his cold fingers brushing against the dip of your spine when he clutched on the zipper.

You had to bite your lip down to prevent the shivers from spilling through, his lips dangerously close to your ear as he whispered, “You look great.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

If Satoru was bothered by the lack of sincerity in your voice, he didn’t comment on it. He removed his hands from you and watched as you slipped black velvet gloves through your arms – just in case you had to end up killing someone; leaving fingerprints was a risk you couldn’t take.

“Did you really get dressed to kill?”

“I came here to negotiate,” you corrected, “I’ll do everything I can to find out whatever’s behind that offshore account. And you, sir,” Frowning at him, you pulled Satoru closer by the tie, perhaps a little too harshly since he nearly knocked his head with yours. He was quick to steady himself as you fixed his tie, flattening it down with your fingers. “You need to know where you should stick your nose in. This is more my business than yours so don’t get in my way acting all hero and shit. I assure you I can handle myself.”

“You’re really going to berate me for worrying about you?”

“You can no longer worry about me,” you disclosed, snatching your black purse from the counter before doing the come hither motion at his shock-still figure. “Now let’s go. We have a case to crack.”

“Case to crack? You sure sound like a detective.”

You snickered, but made no further comment. The elevators dinged and you arrived at the restaurant, which you really regretted not visiting soon enough because the place was grand. Red carpeted floors, golden chandeliers, soft jazz music playing in the background as the lights dimmed down low, the faint clinking of utensils against plates and light chatter of the guests so heartbreakingly nostalgic.

It seemed that even after his death, Naoya had every intention to never leave your side. The setting reminded you too much of your never-ending late night fancy dinners.

Naoya being Naoya, he didn’t blink twice in flaunting his money and renting out entire restaurants all for himself, claiming that he just ‘wanted to have an intimate moment with his wife.’ Sure, it mostly consisted of you discussing what move you should make next, but it was the most affectionate gesture you’ve received after spending years in the quiet and cold environment of the Zen’in Estate.

The outside world wasn’t any better when you and Naoya were marked as targets by the entire government, so it made sense, that only with him that you’d find comfort in.

You must be so out of it you never even noticed Satoru leading you to your seat, a warm meal that should’ve been comforting right under your nose. It was too much – too similar that you headed straight for the wine, ignoring Satoru’s questioning gaze. You noticed from the corner of his eye that he opened his mouth too many times in an attempt to make light conversation, but this dinner wasn’t for you to rekindle your old flame.

No, you were here to wait for his ‘friend’ and review important matters. You were determined to fulfill that purpose alone and only that alone that you never once made eye contact with him, even standing up to reach the salt shaker near him instead of asking him to pass it.

Just as you leaned back to your seat, the music grew louder. A foreign man walked to the stage where he was basked in the spotlight, all heads turning to him when he tapped the microphone, sending little echoes all over the hall. “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s loosen up tonight with a drink and bring our lovers out here on the dance floor,” he sang while swaying side to side, snapping his fingers to the beat that had turned into calming to sensual. “It is a fine evening, isn’t it? Come on, don’t be shy, the night is still so young!”

You dropped your fork beside the plate. “Did you know about this?”

“I swear, I had no idea.”

“Those two attractive lovers in table 42, the dance floor is still much too spacious!”

“Pretty vulgar for a five star hotel,” you commented under your breath and dabbed the pasta sauce off your lips with a napkin, slapping it down the table as you stood up – much to Satoru’s surprise who’d tried to make himself invisible from the host’s eyes. Stupid him; did he really think he could blend in with his sunglasses and snow white hair?

If you were to be honest, you’d rather choke on shrimp than dance with him, but you had an image to upkeep. If you couldn’t gather with the crowd and pretend to be one with others, both your true natures would be fished out even with innocent eyes. You were left with no choice but to be comfortable in the dance floor, sighing deeply as you placed your hands down on Satoru’s wide shoulders. He furrowed his brows at you but said nothing else; strong, cautious hands sliding down from your back before they settled at the curve of your hips.

“Keep your hands to yourself, Mister. I won’t hesitate to stab a fork through your jugular right here.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I know you’re not my little angel anymore.”

Angel. It was what he used to call you back then – when you were still but an innocent, naïve being who never believed in monsters until you fell for one.

He was right; you were no longer his angel. The woman he loved had been left abandoned in the street, the purity of her soul tainted with anger and heartbreak that soon bathed in blood and the need for revenge. His angel was no more – the woman he danced with was nothing but a replica of the face and body he adored the most. Now, you danced with him, not as his angel and neither as his rival’s wife, but simply as a woman whose kindness had long vanished into thin air.

Satoru danced with the devil.

And he should be disgusted just as you should be repulsed with how sickeningly smooth and graceful he was in everything he did, but the wine – yes, it was the fucking wine – messed with you that you actually enjoyed it. Your bodies moved in rhythm and syncopated with the beat, the romantic high notes of the violin and the tender embrace of deep trebles like a classical painting coming to life and you were its subjects to be expressed.

Perhaps…you were just sad. You grieved and mourned too much you’d momentarily forgot what love was, in turn making you forget what it felt like to be constantly unsafe and peeking over your shoulder in case someone tried to kill you.

Satoru just felt so warm, so safe and alive that you found your head dipping lower, your muscles relaxing around his soothing and undeniably tender touch, the space between your bodies diminishing until you surrendered to the power of your desire. You were so close, your ear about to press on his chest to listen to the blissful sound of someone’s reassuring heartbeat along with the music, and then you saw him.

A tuft of blonde hair, a chiseled face, a nude cream suit and a deep blue shirt beneath – what the fuck was he doing here?

The spell was broken in an instant.

Satoru must’ve been under the same trance for his hand trailed lower to pull you closer, your chests grazing with one another before you placed your palm flat on his body, lips thinned into a grim look that resonated with the sick, twisting feeling in your guts.

“I,” you croaked out, clearing your throat when it went dry. “I need to go to the ladies.”

You left Satoru without another word, bunching your dress up to run to where he had disappeared. He was still walking coolly and inspecting the paintings hung in the empty lobby with faux interest – although knowing him, the bastard probably did enjoy classical pieces and studied about them in his free time; which he didn’t have much to begin with.

As if sensing your presence, he stopped right in front of a replica of The Sleeping Venus, his hands dug deep in his pockets. “The shape of being is the visual demonstration of a state of being in which idealized existence is suspended in immutable slow-breathing harmony. All the sensuality has been distilled off from this sensuous presence, and all incitement; Venus denotes not the act of love but the recollection of it. The perfect embodiment of Giorgione’s dream, she dreams his dream herself,” he narrates in his baritone voice, “A little cordial, is it not?”

You took your gun out from your thigh holster and lowered it right at the back of his skull. “Don’t move another inch.”

“No need to be so hostile in a public setting, Y/N. I’m only here to look out for you and making sure you’re not forgetting who you are. Killing me isn’t part of the plan.”

“Neither was murdering my husband,” you growled, pushing the barrel harder against him, though the man didn’t budge before you. “I know that it wasn’t Toji who set off the bomb, Kento, you did.”

“We simply saw an opportunity that couldn’t be wasted. Two notorious mafia leaders in an unsuspecting supposed safe environment?” The fact he didn’t even deny it left you speechless. Kento spun around until your gun rested between his eyes, and he languidly pushed his glasses up his high nose as he looked down on you. “We could’ve killed two birds with one stone had you not been in the way.”

“You guys are out to kill me too now?”

“Don’t act too surprised. The Organization isn’t patient enough to wait for both leaders to die.”

“So you killed my husband?!” you argued, “He was my friend, I told you not to touch him!”

“Only in the exchange that you hand him to us,” Kento echoed, jogging your memory until you were kept up to date. “But it’s been five years and what has happened so far? You’re fraternizing with the enemy and even manufacturing drugs for your so-called husband. Now that he’s dead, you’re here in Italy, looking as stunning as ever as you wine and dine with a former lover,” Kento tilted his head to the side to study your appearance – smiling at how you seemed too bright and fashionable for a woman in supposed mourning.

“I hardly believe you’re actually affected by this at all.”

“How dare you! I’ve proven to no end my loyalty of the higher-ups!”

Kento didn’t bat an eye at your outburst. If anything, he stepped closer to your weapon. “Kill me if you wish, Y/N, but know the moment you put a bullet in my head, the Organization will place you on the same pedestal as Naoya’s and Gojo’s. I wouldn’t recommend such methods considering we’re already at unease on whose side you’re really on. If you do this, you will be our enemy.”

“I did everything for the Organization. What else would you want from me?”

“The contract was easy. We want both leaders – whether dead or alive – in our custody. If you don’t hold your side of the deal, it’s not only your life that we’ll take from you,” Kento pulled out a red coin that made your heart sink deep into your stomach for it served as a threat over the consequences of your actions.

He lowered your gun with the coin and smirked at you, his lips right beside the shell of your ear as he purred, “I suggest you be careful with what step of action you take next.”

“Oi, Nanami, you’re here!” Satoru’s voice suddenly boomed in the hallway. Nanami was as unbothered as ever from taking a step away from you, nodding to your gun which you quickly concealed right before Satoru arrived. You were frozen – rendered immobile with the flashing red metal from his palm – that you couldn’t even protest against Satoru wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I see you’ve met Mrs. Zen’in already.”

“Hmm, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Madam,” taking your hand in his, Kento’s eyes were nothing but eerie as he kissed your knuckles. “Shall we start our discussion?”

SUKI RANTS! Nanami quoted Sydney Joseph Friedberg (an art critic) in one of his dialogues. A little backstory on the painting was that the portrait was originally made by Giorgone, who had a student and also his lover (if I’m not mistaken) called Titian. Giorgone never finished the portrait because he died from the plague but Titiane finished it for him, symbolizing that Y/N still has a mission that connected her from Naoya even after his death and she has to finish something he started. The portrait is of a nude woman that symbolized oneness of nature and that the woman isn’t posed for the gaze of men, but rather they are dreaming, hence the quote: “Venus denotes not the act of love but the recollection of it. The perfect embodiment of Giorgione’s dream, she dreams his dream herself.” Nanami said the painting’s meaning resonated with Y/N’s situation too much since she wasn’t in love with Naoya, but she had a recollection of their moments that still represented their relationship, and that Naoya’s dream (goals) are also shared by Reader. I was gonna ask you guys what your theories are on that scene but I think this makes me sound cooler if I explain it so *lip bite emoji because I’m still broken over Naoya’s death*

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