#So fucking tone deaf it hurts. Kick rocks

[cyarskaren52]

The absolute AUDACITY of this racist organization those biiiitches! 🤬🤬🤬🤬!

The 21st century equivalent of the Daughters of the Confederacy has the NERVE to use a quote from the same author whose books they're banning.

How dare you! How DARE you evil, racist, fascist hypocrites use Maya Angelou's words to promote your hateful agenda while you push for bans on her works and the works of other authors like her!

You can’t be serious !!!!!! You do everything in your power to ban books from Dr. Maya Angelou and other wonderful Black authors and you have the audacity to use one of her quotes ????? DISGUSTING !

The Wives of the Confederacy are at it again 🙄Dr. Angelou would have dragged y'all for filth in a way your potato brains couldn't comprehend for this bullshit. Quoting a Black woman whose work your stupid book burnings would ban.

Keep Maya Angelou's name out of your fucking racist mouths, KARENS. Fuck y'all fr!

#Getallthewayfucked.

All of their kids hate them and are going to be in therapy for years to talk about how evil and selfish their moms are.

[lavishedinjimin]

Proper Training -> knj (hybrid!au)

— synopsis: Namjoon was not expecting such a random hybrid crying at his doorstep on a rainy night. After learning more about you and your past, he was determined to help such a precious little one like you. Perhaps you just needed some proper guidance and training.

↳ pairing: Namjoon x kitten hybrid f.reader

↳ genre: fluff/angst/smut

↳ rating: 18+

↳ word count: 9.5k

↳ warnings: tw/ partner abuse (please bear with me that all of this is fanfiction and I do not tolerate anything like this in real life), degrading terms/namecalling, breeding kink, dom!Namjoon, sub!reader, sexual intercourse, unprotected sex, pain kink, cunnilingus, etc.

The discreet sound of leather shoes clicking against the floor made your tail lower in desperation to find a place to hide. You whimper to herself, panicking. The living room was filled with mess, scattered pillows and the carpet spilled with milk. Although you were proud of the chaos you’ve created, you were awfully afraid of your his reaction.

You crawl underneath a side table where a lamp was placed, hugging your knees tight to your chest as you sit on your white, tucked-in tail. Your poor ears were tugged down in dismay.

“Come out, come out wherever you are!” Your master declares, his cold, chilling voice causing you to mewl. You croon your face in between your knees, bottom lip quivering in fear.

“You can’t hide away from your bullshit forever, Y/n!”

Elijah begins to search the house, looking behind and under every furniture as possible. He had no mercy whatsoever. His blood boils when his eyes drag across the ruined carpets and pillows, the white stuffings scattered all over the floor. Nothing else annoys him more than coming back home every goddamn day to see his apartment scattered in clutter because you couldn’t seem to be a normal fucking hybrid.

It wasn’t hard for Elijah to spot your furry tail. He rolls his eyes and comes walking towards your fearful figure with long strides of his feet. You emit a loud squeal when Elijah tightly grabs onto your frail arms, forcing you out underneath the table – making you bump your head on the glass.

“Stand up.” Elijah blurts, voice filled with malice. Your body continues to tremble, biting your trembling lip. You didn’t dare to make eye-contact with him, staring down at your stocking-covered legs.

“Are you deaf, girl? I said fucking stand.”

The timbre of voice that he used was harsh, commanding, and loud. You obeyed in an instant, afraid of what’s about to come. Elijah grabs both of your wrists in one big hand, preventing you to do anything to him. He presses his body against yours, noticing that he was breathing very heavily.

His other hand pulls against the charm of your black collar, easily ripping the pendant which engraved his initials. Elijah throws the pendant on the floor like it was nothing but a piece of trash.

Your eyes immediately start to tear up.

“Ma…Master…” you sniffle, trying to pry your hands away.

Elijah shushes you, unclasping the leather collar with one hand, and he throws that on the ground as well.

“I’m so glad that you can’t talk properly. Sadly though, your annoying unruliness makes up for that. I’m so tired of your bullshit.” He pulls you with him in front of the door where your fluffy slippers lay messily, instructing you to put them on.

Elijah grabs his car keys from his pockets and drags you outside the apartment, down the stairs, and outside to his car. He scoffs when you were trying to escape his tight hold, but he encloses you with his arm around your waist.

Tugging you close to him, he whispers in your ear, “Don’t try to escape from me, kitty. You know I can fucking bruise your sensitive skin anytime I want. Huh, you’re fucking lucky to even receive a bruise from your master.”

Elijah drives farther and farther away from his place, not knowing where he’s taking you. You were sobbing hysterically, your tears dripping down your cheeks just like the hard downpour of rain outside. The roads were dim and the sky was dark from the thick clouds blocking the sunset.

He was sick of your cries, he was. He couldn’t wait to get rid of you.

“W-Where…?” you finally speak, wiping your tears with the back of your hands, turning your head to face your Master.

Well… not anymore.

Your chest tightens from the thought, still not wanting to accept it.

“Where are we going?” he completes the sentence from you, “To some person’s doorstep, of course. I can’t stand to live with your ass anymore.” His harsh words made you want to curl up in a little ball. “You’re nothing but a toy to me. I wish I never fucking adopted your bratty ass in the first place. How come is a piece of trash like you so expensive anyway?”

Elijah was sick of your loud sobs, he doesn’t want to be with you anymore. He drives to an upscale district in the neighborhood, a neighborhood that can definitely afford to buy a hybrid like you. So, he spots a large house on the side of the street and he immediately parks.

‘Whatever’, he thinks to himself, opening his car door to walk over to your side. Pulling the handle, he roughly tugs you out, making you stumble on your own feet. The rain instantly drenches your hair, fur, and your clothes, the cold water making your body shiver. 

He orders you stay put in a stranger’s doorstep, his bigger body towering over yours.

“Kneel.” He commands.

You obey.

“You stay here until someone fucking finds you, okay, brat?”

“Master—” you claw onto his feet, begging with your eyes, “M-Master no…”

“Shhh, shhh,” Elijah caresses your cheek. The warmth of his palm allowed you to press against it in utter need, wanting to go back home with him. He strokes your hair once, twice, before he sharply pulls. “Shut the fuck up. You deserve this.”

Without giving you a final look, he turns away and walks back to his car. Elijah, from inside the vehicle, watches you sob with your palms on the cemented doorstep, your shoulders heaving up and down. He didn’t regret his decision at all.

‘Finally, peace…’

Namjoon hears loud bangs coming from his front door. He gets up from his bed, rubbing his eyes. He was in a deep sleep already! Who could be knocking so loudly at this hour?

Still, in his pajamas and no shirt, he strolls outside his bedroom while rubbing his eyes. He figures that it may just be the kids that were throwing rocks at the people’s doors again. Namjoon always wonders where their parents were.

He turns the doorknob, “I swear if you kids keep—”

Namjoon gasps when he sees you curled up, soaking wet from the rain.

A hybrid.

His mind immediately panics and wonders what he’s supposed to do with you. He has never seen a hybrid before, for he only heard them on the news. He’s read countless stories of people adopting certain hybrids – make them as pets, but he’s never seen a cat hybrid before.

“Hello?” his deep, sensual voice instantly instills inside your brain. Elijah always had a high-pitched tone, and this man’s tone was utterly different. You’ve never heard anything like his before.

Your big, swollen eyes from crying too much stared up at him. Namjoon notices your ears and tail twitch when he squats down to get a better look at you.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he gulps, “W-Why are you here?”

He wonders if you can talk. However, you did not give him any reply. Your master always taught you to be careful of random strangers, especially a man.

When he reaches a hand out for you, your instincts kicked in and you immediately lean forward, biting him, sinking your sharp teeth on his skin.  

“Oww! Fuck—” Namjoon curses, rubbing his gnawed hand. You back away from him, whimpering, scared that he might attack you as your master did. “Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Namjoon tries to say calmly, eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t go away, don’t. I promise I won’t do anything bad to you.”

Namjoon knows one thing, though. Cat hybrids are supposed to have owners. They shouldn’t be wandering around the area like this, and if they were, adoption centers would’ve had taken them.

And for that, he detects the red marks that wrapped around your neck, making it seem like there had been a collar – previously wrapped tight.  

“Come in,” he whispers gently, standing up and making room for you to enter, “I’ll keep you safe.”

Safe.

Safe.

Safe.

That word was familiar to you. You repeated it over and over in your mind to make you remember where you’ve heard that from.

‘I’ll keep you safe.’

The same words your master told you.  

“N-No!” You furiously shake your head, “Y-You lie…”

Namjoon’s eyes widen. He sees you visibly tremble, your tail in a downright position behind you. “Oh, goodness,” he sighs, “Trust me, dear. I have no bad intentions with you. Look!” Namjoon tries to keep a gentle, caring tone in his voice, hoping that you’d trust him, “It’s raining so hard here, and you’re soaking your precious fur! I bet you’re so cold…”

You were. You were freezing your butt off. Nodding your head, you mewled pathetically.

A smile forms Namjoon’s lips, “See? If you come inside, I’ll keep you warm and get you some much comfy clothes, dear. You won’t be sleeping in cold concrete.”

His soft, gentle yet deep tone allowed you to slowly ease into his comfort.

“You can sleep in a soft, plush, comfy bed if you want!” He beams, the sleepiness in his body long gone. “Come, come inside and let me take care of you.”  

A nod of your head was all it took for him to take your little hands in his, helping you stand up from your position. He was shocked by how smaller you are than him. But then again, he was indeed a tall person.

You slowly enter the unfamiliar place, though wondering how his area was so neat.

Namjoon cringes a little when your slippers created dirty, wet prints on his wooden floor. “Stay here, dear. I’ll get some fresh clothes and a towel to dry you off, okay?”

You don’t respond, too busy observing his very tidy house.

“Hey,” he unconsciously smirks, tilting your head up with a finger beneath your chin to make you lock eyes with him. “Did you hear what I said?”

A cheeky giggle escapes your mouth, eyes creasing into little crescents while you shake your head ‘no.’

“I said,” he repeats, “I’ll be right back.”

As you watch the strangely kind man walk out into a room and out of your sight, there was no hesitation for you to climb onto the large L-shaped couch that was previously capturing your attention. There was a huge fireplace adjacent to the couch, feeling amused because you haven’t seen anything like that before. Although wet, you didn’t care. Your head feverishly tilts in all directions, eager to see such new areas.

Noticing that there were a lot of plants, your ears peaked up in interest. They are everywhere!

Namjoon comes back with a towel and clothes in his hands. However, his chest drops when he sees that you’ve made yourself comfortable on the couch.

Great.

He shakes his head, trying to hide his slight exasperation with a timid laugh. He crouches in front of you so that he can clean your damp hair and ears with the towel. You were trying to pry away from him, moving your head left and right, shaking your head – obviously in a playful mood already.

“Dear,” he chuckles, “let me clean you up. C’mon now.”

You let out a little squeak when he cleans your fluffy ears, then your face. Down to your neck and your hands. The rest of your body was covered with your long sweater, cotton shorts, and stockings. He wonders if you’ll let him take them off…

“Do you wanna get changed?” he asks you.

He didn’t expect the frantic, almost desperate nod.

“Oh. Do you want me to take your clothes off?”

“Mhm!”

Namjoon gulps the ball that formed in his throat. He’s a grown adult, he shouldn’t be nervous about this. But then again, you were still half-human and a total stranger… it was unbelievable how you trusted him enough.

He grabs the hem of your sweater and slowly tugs it upward, revealing your soft, supple-looking skin. An immediate exhale leaves from his lips when you thankfully had worn a bra underneath. You raise your arms, letting him take the damp clothing out of you. “Here you go…” Namjoon slips on the large plain black shirt that almost covered half of your body. You giggle when you felt that it was so warm and soft, and very comfortable for it was twice your size.

Namjoon strips your stockings off, followed by your shorts. He makes you wear one of his boxers, all while having a content smile on your face. Pulling the neckline of his shirt up to your nose, you smelled his scent that instantly got you hooked. Namjoon chuckles, “Yes, dear?”

There was a glint in your eyes, looking up at him with a bright smile.

“Aww, you comfy?” he asks gently, lifting a hand to rub your arm. He didn’t expect a verbal reply from you, for he already learned that you don’t talk much. Although it can be seen from your content and calm expression, you were now perfectly fine.

Namjoon eventually seized the opportunity to take you in. A cat hybrid. In his house. Playing with the pillow covers. As he sits beside you on the couch, with an arm resting on the backrest and his left leg hiked up to his right knee, he wonders if you were still claimed.  

“Hey, hey,” he gets your attention by caressing your back. You turn around with big, innocent eyes.

“Do you have a name, dear?”

Namjoon hears you mutter something underneath your breath, but he can’t seem to get a hold of it. “Say that again?”

“Y/n…” you repeat with a little tilt of your head. Your ears perked when he rubs the top of your head soothingly.

He repeats the name over and over his mind. “Y/n… good.”

His hand moves down to your chin, using his thumb to rub gentle circles on the skin. He sees that there were freckles scattered all over your face. “Kitten. You’re still a kitten, aren’t you Y/n?”

Your tail hikes up, moving closer to the nameless man carefully.  

“I’m taking that as a yes,” he breathes out, spreading his legs apart so that you can sit in between his thighs. “Do you want me to call you kitten?”  

Namjoon finds your little whines so adorable. Once you’ve sat down, you allowed your right hand to carefully rest against his bare chest, feeling him. Your striking blue eyes, soft fluffy white tail and ears deeply resembles a white Persian kitten. Namjoon assumes that that’s your breed.

“Kitten,” he whispers, feeling pity of you all of a sudden. He holds your hand that was on his chest, “Why were you left out on the rain like that?”

With those words, your head hangs low and your eyes well up again. You clench your wrists tightly, “M-Master…”

Namjoon quietly gasps when he sees a single tear dripping down your cheek. Oh god, he shouldn’t have asked this question.  

“Aw, kitten,” he tuts, wiping your tear away, “It’s okay. I understand now.”

Based on what happened, it was easy for him to connect the dots. You were abandoned by your master and was left at his doorstep. Namjoon couldn’t even imagine how you, a poor kitten, would’ve felt. Someone who you once deeply trusted and who you gave all the power to take care of you could betray you like that – it must’ve been heartbreaking.

Guessing with the marks of the collar that were engraved on your neck, it must have been recent.

Namjoon takes your face in his hands, making you look at him. His eyes were looking into you like your master once did, so full of adoration. But now you guess that you weren’t his anymore.

“Don’t cry, kitten. I’ll protect you. I’m not gonna let anyone take you. You’ll stay here for a couple of days before I figure out what to do with you, okay?”

You nod once, a pout on your lips.

To make you feel a little bit better, Namjoon rubs the back parts of your flattened ears. He hears an unexpected purr, causing him to chuckle. Shivers run throughout your body. He figures that you like these ear rubs.

“I’ll get you a big, warm blanket and you can sleep here, alright, Y/n?”

You move away from him so that he can stand up. With round eyes, the kind man gets up and walks away once again.

You yawn, sleepiness getting the best of you. You try to find the comfiest spot on the couch before settling yourself in. This wouldn’t be too bad… it’s much better than sleeping outside with the cold rain!

When Namjoon comes back, he sees that you’re already fast asleep. Once again, his heart clenches. He pities you, for who would even ditch a precious, good little kitten like you are.

He quietly covers your curled up figure with the blanket, careful not to wake you up. He rubs the back of your ear once, twice, before shutting the main light of the living room off. He flicks the lamp on the corner of the room so that it wasn’t pitch dark. Namjoon also makes sure that the door was locked – who knows what could happen.

“Poor thing…” he whispers to himself, right before he tucks himself in bed.

Right after Namjoon wakes up, just the minute he opens his tired, puffy eyes, he sees something white in his view. A tail.

You were sat meekly in his lap with your back to him, cheeks pressed down against the sheets, waiting for him to wake up. Once you feel him move, quickly – you let out an unconscious mewl, greeting him with a happy smile.

“Oh, Y/n,” Namjoon says, his morning voice causing him to sound deep and raspy. “Good morning… I didn’t expect you to be on my bed!” He laughs a little awkwardly.

You crawl further up to him, hands softly pressing against the bed. Your innocent, happy smile was now replaced with a cheeky, teasing smirk. Namjoon’s hand lifts to pet your head, his soft fingertips scratching behind your ear. Involuntarily, you nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck, smelling his pleasant scent.

“Y/n…” he warns when he feels you get closer to him.

What’s the reason to stop? You mentally ask yourself with a chuckle.

Without thinking, you gave his honeydew neck a broad lick, hearing him gasp, and bite his neck just hard enough until there was a little mark.

“Hey!” Namjoon bursts while he pushes you away from him, making you lay back down on the bed. He took the opportunity to get on top of you, pinning you down with his hands on your wrists.

His bed hair, all messy and tangled, flows perfectly down to his forehead that almost covered his eyes. He feels somewhat irritated from the way you were smiling so mischievously, a bold gaze painted across your eyes.

“Naughty,” he whispers, lowering his head down until it rests almost against your ear, “Stop that.”

His grip on your wrist tightens, and it fueled your instincts to just bite. Tilting your head a little to the right, you jerk forward as an attempt to sink your teeth into the skin of his wrist, but Namjoon was quicker to move it away.

“Well, well,” he chuckles, climbing out of the bed but still keeping an eye on you. “Obeying isn’t easy for you, huh?”

Namjoon walks up to his closet to grab himself some clothes with you watching idly on the bed. You decide to sit up and rest your back against the headrest.

“Anyhow, I need to go to work, so you’re staying here until I get back home.” He hears a little whimper coming from you, but he ignores the sound, “Do you understand?”

You nod once, tapping your foot impatiently on the bed.

Oh, the fun you’ll have when he’s not here…

“Wait a second, you still don’t know my name, do you?” He partly laughs mid-sentence. “Excuse my manners! I’m Namjoon, but you can call me Joon for short—”

“Master.”

Namjoon’s forehead creases immediately, “Ma—I’m not your master, kitten,” he says breathily.

“Master!” you insist, whining in your seat.

“No, kitten. You don’t belong to anyone yet. You have no master.”

Oh. You felt something stinging in your chest – as if a spear has been pierced through your heart.

Namjoon doesn’t think much about what he said, for he believes that he’s just telling the truth. He walks out of the room and to the bathroom to get himself ready for work, about to give this whole household all to yourself.

When he arrives at the agency, Namjoon scurries to the conference room in a rush. He lowers his facemask, looking at the watch on his wrist.

9:39 A.M.

The sliding door unlocks and he was quickly greeted with the rest of the boys already seated on their designated areas around the long table, supposedly ready for an album launch consultation. He emits a sigh, “Sorry, I’m late.”

Thankfully, the CEO was late too.

Yoongi chuckles, clasping his hands together in front of him on the table, “You know, Namjoon, you’ve been tardy more times than Jungkook lately—”

“Yeah!” Jungkook abruptly buts in.  

“—did your alarm not wake you up again?”

How can he say that there’s a kitten hybrid in his house without the boys finding him delirious?

But either way, the members always deserve to have honest answers.

He takes a seat in between Hoseok and Jimin, who were patiently waiting for a response like the rest of them. “So, um, you guys know all about those… hybrids, right?”

A few of them chuckled, some of them replied with a “yes.”

“You did not just buy a hybrid, Kim Namjoon!” Seokjin half-yells and half-laughs.

“Aren’t those expensive?” Hoseok inquires, “Well… you are a multi-millionaire…”

“No, I didn’t buy anything!” he retaliates, “A stray kitten hybrid has been left on my doorstep last night and I took her in my home!”

“Huh?!” almost everyone exclaims synchronically. “A kitten hybrid?” Jimin questions, “Like… half kitten, half…” he almost can’t finish his words from how other-worldly he thinks he sounds, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Half-human, yeah.” Namjoon completes his sentence.

He can feel the rising tension inside the room. Even though the air conditioning was on, Namjoon feels himself getting hotter each second.

“If this goes out to the public…” Taehyung mumbles, “It’ll be all over the news. They’d think you’ve adopted or bought one, hyung.”

“Who’s looking out for her?” Hoseok asks, looking straight at Namjoon’s eyes.

“It’s a her?!” Jungkook whisper-shouts, eyes were blown wide.

“Hey!” Jimin slaps the younger’s arm, “You weren’t listening!”

“Yeah, yeah, God,” Namjoon frustratingly rakes his hands through his dark hair. ”She’s like… abandoned from her original owner…”

Suddenly, like a flash appearing inside his mind and taking over his train of thoughts, your pleading, desperate face when he first saw you outside his house overtook his head. He remembers how woeful, miserable, and heartbreaking you looked – all drenched from the rain with your wet hair framing your face. White fur has been soaked and ears pulled down in despair. Namjoon can almost hear your gloomy little noises, those pleading mewls going past your lips.

Oh, how pitiful you were.

“Kim Namjoon!” Hoseok breaks him out of his ruminating thoughts with a violent shake of his shoulders. He laughs uncontrollably right after, filling the room with endorphins. “She’s abandoned, okay we get that, then what?”

Namjoon giggles embarrassingly, lowering his head down while his dimples appear on his cheeks.

“Uh, I mean—I couldn’t just leave the poor thing outside. It was raining heavily at the time so I opted to just let her stay in with me.”

“What are you going to do with her?” Taehyung asks curiously, “Will you take her back to the centers?”

The truth was, Namjoon wasn’t thinking about bringing you back to the adoption center. It’s too early for him to decide if he wants to keep you or not. But one thing’s for sure, though, that he loves the bratty personality that you’re putting up with him.

“I don’t know if I want to.”  

From the car ride back home, Namjoon was on his phone researching all about these so-called hybrids. Everyone has heard of them – it’s no secret. But having to receive one was never a plan of his.

‘Kitten Hybrids.’ He types on the search engine.

‘Kitten hybrids usually grow to an average height of four-and-a-half to five feet, depending on their breeds. These hybrids are created either from an infant instilled with feline DNA the day they were born, or the result of two cat hybrids breeding.’

Namjoon was already aware of all of that. He was acquainted with the knowledge of how hybrids are created when it was less widespread than today.

‘Just like regular, ordinary animals, the younger ones are most likely to have insubordinate and rebellious tendencies, whether a male or a female. When not guided and coached properly by their first owner – kittens will most likely display abysmal behavior. The possessors of this hybrid must know their duty to ensure that your kitten knows what is right and what is wrong.’

Namjoon is dropped off at his house and finally, after hearing the lock jingle, you skipped your way to the front door with a happy, wide smile plastered on your face.

You whine while embracing his taller, muscular build in your short arms. Namjoon gasps from the unexpected action, almost hesitant to hug you back. “K-Kitten…” he exhales, “hey.” He closes the door behind him with one hand, as the other rubs the back of your ears. Purring, you press your cheek against his chest.

“Did you miss me? What did you do while I was g— oh my fucking god.” Once Namjoon looks up to scan the living room, it was all a horrible, jungle of mess. His indoor plants were shoved down to the floor, dirt all over the place with the expensive vases shattered. His pillows and the cushion of his couch were littered everywhere. Books had fallen to the ground at the opposite side of the room. It was like a magnitude five earthquake had just occurred.

He looks down at you with a serious gaze, eyes unwavering with his forehead creased in dissatisfaction. Namjoon clenches his jaw tightly when he hears a quiet, almost discreet breathy giggle coming out of you.

Brat. He thinks.

“Are you proud of the mess you’ve made?”

“Mhm,” you nod your head happily.

“That’s fortunate.” Namjoon was quick to shrug his coat off, leaving it on the coat rack whilst sliding his shoes off. He takes a deep inhale through his nose, “You know what you’re doing is wrong, Y/n.”

You tilt your head to the side in utter confusion. Why doesn’t he seem… angry?

Slowly walking backward until your ankle hits the couch, you sit down timidly. Watching Namjoon clean up your mess was a weird, yet a new sight. He wasn’t screaming at you, punishing you – he isn’t doing what Elijah did.

Namjoon quietly cleans the shattered vase and dirt with a handy broomstick, smirking to himself when he hears a whine coming from your lips.

“This vase is expensive you know, Kitten?” he chimes, smiling in your direction. “But that’s okay. We can buy a replacement. I was getting a little sick of this plant anyway.”

Your eyes widen. There was a feeling inside of you that you can’t seem to decipher. After creating the mess you’ve made, you prepared yourself for a whole spanking from him. But it didn’t come. It was so unusual for you that he isn’t here yelling his lungs out.

Namjoon collects the trash on the dustpan and throws it in the bin. It was amusing for him that you were just sitting there prettily; your hands on your thighs while your white tail keeps swaying behind you. Your face shows a clear image of confusion, which was entirely Namjoon’s plan.

You were used to all the shouts and screams, thinking that it was normal. But he was showing you a reaction you’ve never seen before. Maybe if he doesn’t give you the reaction that you anticipate, you’ll stop misbehaving, and he can teach you some good morals.

A mewl leaves your lips, trying to get his attention. Pouting, you call out for him, “J-Joon…”

“Yes, Kitten?” he chuckles, placing the broomstick at a corner. “Come here.”

Without hesitation, you get up to walk over to him. Although, your body quickly stops when he clicks his tongue firmly. “Tch, no. Crawl. Crawl to me.”

Your intuition takes over you and within a second, you were down on all fours, making your way to him. With big, wide eyes, you held eye-contact with him. Namjoon watches your hips swing side to side, tail upright. He purses his lips to a thin line, trying to stop from grinning too wide.

Once you were at his feet, Namjoon slightly leans down until his hand can reach your head. He combs your soft, beautiful hair – and of course, not missing the opportunity to rub the back of your ear. He hears you purr.  

“You don’t do this, Y/n,” he mutters as soft as possible, “It’s bad to ruin other people’s stuff. Don’t go destroy every possible thing you can destroy, okay? Are you a good kitten?”

Your nose twitches from his question – of course, you are!

“Y-Yea…” you murmur.

“Well, good little kittens don’t do this. They don’t act like this. If you wanna be good, behave for me, don’t make a mess, and maybe I’ll reward you.”

Namjoon can notice the change of your eyes from the word ‘reward’.

‘Were you even rewarded before?’ He thinks to himself. The thought of you not even receiving something good breaks his big heart.

“Do you want that? You want a reward?” Namjoon grabs your face in both of his hands. He giggles from the way you nodded so fast. “Then be a good kitten for me.”

In the next couple of days, Namjoon was surprised by your every improvement; whether how little or big the change might be. However, there was still an itching need for you to push over and break his newly-bought Snake plant. You still had to work on that.

The thing that was driving you to your goal of being ‘good’ was Namjoon’s so-called reward for you. You have no clue what it might be, but you still feel excited about it.

Your old master was now forgotten. Before, his face occasionally appears in your mind for a brief second. But as Namjoon continuously showers you with compliments, kindness, and praise that Elijah couldn’t give you to, all you can ever think about now is making Namjoon proud. That was your overall goal.

“Y/n, don’t bite!” Namjoon chuckles right after you tempted to gnaw his wrist when as he gives you food. “What are you, huh? I think you’re much naughtier than a pup!” He slowly moves his hand forward again, third try feeding you with nuggets. As you sat idly on the couch, legs on a ‘W’ position with your hands on your lap, Namjoon instructs you to keep your eyes on him.

“What will you say?” he giggles when he sees your pout. “Say please.”

Please?

You tilt your head to the side to let him know your confusion about the word that had just been added to your small vocabulary. Namjoon leans back, purely baffled. Was your master such a piece of shit for not teaching you basic things like this?

“U-Um, listen… okay?” he stammers, his mind still in bewilderment. “ ’Please’ is what you say when you want something from someone.”

Namjoon starts to get lost in your beautiful eyes.

“When you want to ask for something, when you need something; may it be food, water, comfort, or attention – just say please, and your master will surely give it to you.”

You look down, tucking your tail to sit on it. “But h-have no m-master,” you mutter.

Namjoon was quick to tilt your head back up with his unoccupied hand, wrapping his hand around your jaw. You whimper quietly. “Don’t worry, Y/n,” he smiles, trying to make you feel better, “At least you have me, right?”

You affirm him with a nod.

“Good. Now c’mon, say please and I’ll let you eat.”

���Please…” you whisper, eyes wide. He chuckles lovingly, adoring the way you said that so cutely. He feeds you the chicken nugget whilst placing the square box down beside you. He combs your hair with slender fingers, releasing all of the knots.

“Good girl, baby.”

From that single sentence, you gasp.

Why did your stomach… flutter?

“Oh… err,” Namjoon meekly laughs after realizing what he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

After being with Namjoon after a whole week, you’ve never been more comfortable. He has brought you a whole bag of toys and even new clothes for you to try on.

“Have you been spoiled like this before, hm?” he asks cockily, watching you twirl around with your new outfit. For the past days, you’ve been wearing his clothes, it was great that you can finally have your own!

You shake your head as an answer.

“Pass me the bag, kitten,” Namjoon asks you, raising a brow to see if you’ll obey.

Without hesitation, you grab the shopping bag and gave it to him. He chuckles, “Thank you, Y/n.”

“Y-You’re welcome,” you reply shyly, using the new phrase that he once taught you.  

Watching him rummage through the bag as he sits down on the edge of the bed, you feel quite the anticipation. He mumbles something underneath his breath, although you couldn’t quite catch what it was.

“Here it is.”

Your eyes shine, tail jerking upward in excitement when you saw what the object was.

There beholds a pink collar in his hand, dotted with shiny silvery beads. Your mouth forms a wide grin, itching to put it on.

“Kneel before me, baby.”

He unclasps the collar and puts it around your neck. It was a perfect size. He makes sure that it wasn’t too tight nor too loose – just snug enough to remind you that it’s there.

“So pretty,” he whispers. Whining, he grips your chin and pulls you close to him. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

Namjoon growls darkly right after, and it shocked you. You’ve never seen him like this before, heck, you’ve never felt anything like this, too. A trail of goosebumps arises to the skin of your arms and legs just from watching his aura completely change.

“Shit, keep staring at me like that and watch me fucking…” he sighs, “Sorry, Y/n.”

You didn’t have to say anything, but Namjoon can see the way you were rubbing your thighs together. He traces your collar with his index finger, watching his jaw clench tightly. “Do you like it, Kitten?” Namjoon asks, receiving a nod from you.

Your mind doesn’t think any further as you comply with your immediate instinct. You stand up just to sit on his lap, placing your hands on his broad chest. He was surprisingly quick to wrap his strong arms around your body. “Good…” you mumble.

“Good?” he smirks, “What do you mean, Kitten? Is the collar good?”

“Yes, but… m-me.”

Namjoon tries to connect the things that you were saying. “You? What about you?”

“I’m good,” you pull yourself closer to him until your bodies touch each other. Crooning your head beneath his chin, Namjoon can feel your fluffy ears ticking his jawline. “I’m good,” you repeat.

“Yeah baby, shit,” he inhales your scent, cupping the back of your head firmly as he pulls you tighter to him, “Good girl. You’re a good girl. My good fucking kitten – aww fuck ­– what a-are you doing?” He was taken aback when you suddenly start grinding your hips on his jean-clad crotch.  

Your core tingles, a delightful sensation you’ve haven’t felt before. Your cheeks heat up, his neck looking so delicious. Something takes over you and you instantly lean forward, attaching your mouth on his neck. Namjoon hisses as he feels your teeth dig into his skin. The way you whimpered while you ground down on him harder fueled the fire inside of him.

“Kitten,” he growls, twitching as you lick his neck. “You want your reward, yeah? Do you think you’re good enough to deserve to see my cock?”

The way he used his voice; deep, demeaning, and teasing, caused you to let out a quiet moan. “Yes… p-please!”

“Yeah, you do?” he smirks, “Then strip. Let’s see if you can follow instructions and do as you’re told.”

Standing up, you removed every single inch of the clothing. You were waiting for him to say stop, but he waits until you were fully naked. Shyly, you finally pulled your cotton panties down, stepping out from it. You couldn’t grab the courage to gaze at him, for his eyes were like lasers that’ll melt you if you look.

“Take my cock out.”

You were needy for you’ve never felt this way before. Everything was too overwhelming. You kneel on the floor and wasted no time to unbutton and unzip his jeans while he took off his shirt. You were salivating.

He was shocked by your eagerness. He helps you tug his jeans down, before guiding you to pull his briefs down as well.

Eyes almost bulging out of your sockets, they widen as his half-hard cock finally comes to show. Namjoon laughs lightly from your reaction, closing your parted mouth with his fingers beneath your chin.  

‘Whatever!’ You think, before taking matters in your own hand.

“Fuck!” Namjoon bucks his hips when you suddenly grabbed the base of his cock, leaving a wet and sloppy lick from his balls up to his tip. His body shivers, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head. “Fucking bitch…” he mutters under his breath.

A cheeky giggle, a mischievous smile, all of those caused Namjoon to let out a disapproving sigh. He harshly cups your jaw, “Did I tell you to do that, huh?” he forces two long fingers inside your mouth, making you choke on it, “Did I?”

His slender digits hit the back of your throat, making you gag. Shaking your head profusely as an answer, he chuckles.

“That’s right, I didn’t. Have you forgotten everything that I’ve taught you already, huh?” Namjoon uses his strength to carry you from the floor to lay you down on the bed behind him. His cock throbs from the way you were clenching your legs together, desperate for some sort of friction down there.

“Spread your legs.” He commands.

Hesitantly, you hike your legs up to plant your feet on the mattress. Namjoon withholds his urge to just dive right in your pussy, for it was too fucking long since he’s tasted one. “Go on, kitten. Let me see your cute pussy.”

His words alone were enough to make you shiver. You mewl in embarrassment as you displayed your cunt all to himself, spreading your knees apart.

“Oh, fuck,” he exhales, “you’re dripping.” He starts to slowly run his big, warm hand up and down your thigh, heightening your sensitivity. “Who made you this wet, hm?”

“Joon...” you squeak as he inches his hand closer and closer to your throbbing heat. Bucking your hips up, you try to meet with his hand but it only resulted in him pulling away.

“Me? I see, kitten.” He grins before laying down on his stomach, his head in front of your pussy as he gets ready to eat you out. His lips slightly brush against your inner thighs, prodding his tongue out to lick around your core. Your legs involuntarily jerk from the weird yet erotic feeling. “What made you wet?”

“D-Don’t know,” you whisper. It was true that you didn’t know. All that you knew that you became needy for him and that’s it. There was no reason why. Namjoon clicks his tongue and stops you from bucking your hips too much. He growls and pins your hips down. “Stay. Still.”

Without wasting any more time, he doesn’t go for the ‘gentler’ route for he was quick to lick a firm, heavy line from your dripping hole and to your clit. He watches your body’s immediate reaction, trembling. He keeps his eye contact with you as he does this a second time, hearing your loud, heavy pants.

“Feel good?” Namjoon mutters, “Do you want more? Or do you want us to stop—”

“No! No!” you instantly reply with a shake of your head, “M-More please!”

Please. He was satisfied with your answer and dived back in. He firstly teases your slick by giving fast-paced licks on your wet folds, drawing patterns, and figure eights to bring you to blissful pleasure. You arch your back, whimpering from the newly discovered feeling. It was scary to feel so good, but you can’t stop.  

“This pussy tastes so fucking good, mmngg…” he wraps his mouth around your little clit, sucking harshly on it. He smirks in the process because of your constant cute noises.  He watches your face twist in satisfaction, your neck and chest dampening from the accumulation of sweat.

“You like that, hm? Like my tongue playing with your cute, sweet virgin pussy?” he groans before continuing his work on you, both sucking and flicking quick licks on your clit at the same time. Your body writhes on the bed, your hands going down to grip onto his hair. Namjoon grunts from your sudden sharp tugs, the pain making his cock twitch. Namjoon was unconsciously grinding his hips down on the bed, resulting in a few moans and delightful hums coming out of him.  

“Yeah? Wait until I fucking tear your tight pussy apart with my thick cock.”

The wet, slurping noises added to the heat and sensuality of it all. He collects the juices that dripped down your entrance on his tongue, tasting your sweet nectar. Your scent was addicting, so sweet, and it just made him want to eat you out on his bed all day and make you cum again and again.

“Ooohh m-my—aaaghh!” You suddenly felt a rapid, burning sensation when Namjoon decided to insert the tip of his middle finger inside your pussy. Your walls were tight around his digit and it only urged him to push it in deeper. “Mhmm, there you go,” he chuckles darkly, “Fucking take it, Kitten, wanna stretch your pussy walls out. You don’t wanna disappoint your master, do you?”

‘Master?!’ Your face lights up, eyes enlarging.

Namjoon sees your reaction to his words, knowing damn well what he’s doing to you.

“You heard me, Kitten.” Namjoon pumps his digit at a steady pace, trying to find your sweet spot. “I’m gonna fucking own you after I fuck this cunt.”

He alternates between sucking your clit and thrashing his wet, warm tongue along your slit, all while his finger was moving oh-so-slowly inside of you. You pulled on his hair harder as he eagerly ate your pussy out need to make you feel good. “Master… master!” you pant, starting to see stars, “I— oohh please!”

“Hold it.” He commands with a rough voice, “Hold your fucking cum, or I’m not gonna fuck you.”

You whimper loudly, thrashing your head side to side from the overwhelming sensation. Your core feels like it was about to burst any second as it tightens and tightens. “Master!” you squeal, legs shaking when he starts to rapidly flick your clit. Namjoon didn’t care that you were thrusting your hips so frantically up against him anymore, he finds it so hot that you are so reckless.

You obey and held yourself from cumming, just as he told you. You wanted to be obedient and follow his instructions. With a final, harsh lick of your soaked cunt, he denies your orgasm and allows himself to lean back and see the mess he’s created.

Face fucked out and cheeks blushing, chest heaving up and down, your cunt throbbing in a desire to cum. You look so perfect.

“Master,” you cry, “More…”

“More? Awwh, my pretty kitten wants more?” he bites down on his lip, wrapping his hand around his cock to stroke it a couple of times. “Aren’t you fucking ashamed of yourself for being such a horny slut for your master?”

You watch his actions with wide eyes, noticing some white liquid pouring out from his tip. Namjoon collects his precum and lathers it all over his shaft, hissing in pleasure.

“Master’s gonna fuck your tiny cunt with his cock now. It’s big, isn’t it?” he smirks, dimples peeking through.

You nod shyly. ‘How is it gonna fit?’

He shifts his position until he was hovering above you, legs on either side of yours. He traps your body with his arms. “Who’s my good girl?” he asks in a deep whisper, lips ghosting against yours. He aligns the tip of his cock upon your entrance, “Tell me, baby. Who’s my good, obedient little kitten?”

“I-I am, master.”

“Correct. I want you to always remember that, slut.” Namjoon abruptly shoves the tip of his cock in, stretching your pussy out and letting your walls accommodate his thick, big size. You gasp loudly, eyes rolling back as your hips quiver in pleasure.

Namjoon surpasses a moan, crooning his head in between your neck and shoulders. He starts to thrust hastily, not letting you adjust. “There, there. Take that dick. Your pussy’s fucking made for me, kitten.”

There was a slight sting of pain as Namjoon starts pounding, but you try to push it to the back of your mind and focusing on the new feeling. Your mouth gapes, the sounds escaping were fast-paced ah’s after every hard thrust.

Your hands were quick to wrap around Namjoon’s body before your fingers suddenly scratch his back. He grunts loudly from the sharp, stinging pain of your nails. “Kitten… fucking shit,” he moans, “K-Keep doing that… o-okay? You can scratch my back any… aah yea—anytime.”

Your scratches caused bright red marks on his skin, but the sting was driving him to fuck you harder. “Aww, fuck, my poor little pet,” Namjoon says through an airy moan, “Want master to stop? Hm?” he angles his hips better so that he can hit that certain sweet spot inside of you. “Is it too much for your bratty cunt to handle?”

”Wrap your legs around your master, c’mon baby, let me fuck you deeper,” Namjoon grunts once you obeyed, his big cock doing its job to make you feel good, wanting him to be your only first and last cock you’re ever going to get.

His tip rubs up against your g-spot, hitting such unexplored places. You arched your back as your legs shook violently, “Oh, oh, oh, oh—!” high-pitched moans erupt from you with every thrust. “S-So good!”

His lips tickle the side of your neck, teasingly giving wet, sloppy kisses. Your body shivers, being your neck a newly-found sensitive place. “Master…” you whimper, closing your eyes, “Please…”

“Please what, kitten? Do you want to cum, mhm? Cum around your master’s dick?” He says in a teasing way, assuming how much you liked it when he talks dirty because of your pussy constantly tightening around his dick.

Everything around you feels and sounds lewd; the two of you were moaning without care of whoever’s listening, his balls were slapping against your ass, bodies so close together. His neck looks so good right now, the skin beading with sweat, and you can’t stop your temptation to taste him.

Leaning forward, you open your mouth and clasped your sharp teeth down on his neck, whining in the process. Namjoon shudders, biting his lip from the delicious pain. He leans his head more to the side to allow you more access.

“Fucking fuck,” groaning, he grabs your neck and pushes you away from him. “Turn the fuck around, kitten. Lay on your stomach, yeah that’s it.”

You turn around and there on Namjoon’s sight was your pretty, white tail. He bites his lip and gives it a taunting tug, making you wiggle your butt. With the new position, he pounds your pussy while his hips continuously bounce against your ass.

“A-Ahh, there we go. You like it when I fuck you raw?” he growls against your ear. “Mhm, yeah I know you do. You like the feeling of my cock drilling your pussy, right? You want someone to coat this pure little pussy with cum.” Namjoon starts to feel animalistic once he wraps his strong, muscular arms around your neck, bringing you into a tight chokehold. You couldn’t hold back your squeals, feeling hot as he restricts your breathing.

His thrusts turn inhumanely fast, “So tight, fuuuuck kitten. I’m gonna fucking burst my cum into you, make you fucking pregnant with my kids, oh god—” Namjoon doesn’t care about what he says, his words falling carelessly out of his mouth, “You would want that, do you? Your body probably isn’t ready to carry my children, hm? But oh goodness fuck you would look so good,” the fantasy continues to play in his mind, fueling him to pound you harder with his rock solid cock, “You’d look so fucking hot, your little belly so round. I wanna fill your tight, warm pussy up ‘til the brim and watch it pour out. You want that?”

You feel dizzy, all too intoxicated with his cock and his dirty words. You only nod for you can’t bring yourself to talk.

“Of course you do, you’re gonna take master’s cum like a good kitten, yeah? Wanna cum with me, baby?” his voice becomes a little high-pitched, cock twitching inside of you, “Just let it all go, baby. Don’t hold back. I’ve got you, you’re safe with me, Y/n.”

You didn’t know how you did it, or why it happened, but you feel yourself coming undone on his thick cock. Your body feels like it was going limp as it keeps shaking and trembling, although his arms were there to keep you in your place. Namjoon sighs as he feels your walls clench so tightly around him, pulsating furiously as you soak his cock with your white, sticky liquid.

“There… fuck yea, that’s my good girl,” he moans, “cum all over me.”

Namjoon swivels his hips in circles, humping you like a fucking dog on a rut.

“Master…!” you wail loudly, practically screaming, “Puh…please!”

Namjoon hasn’t cummed so hard in a long time. His seed spurts deep inside of you, coating you up with his liquid. His thrusts became sloppy, hips jolting for his cock was throbbing so hard. “Shit, shit, shit, shit,” He pants while wrapping his hand around your neck, tightening his hold so that your collar can strangle you. “Take my cum, take it nice and deep, kitten. Fuck you’re such a good girl for master.”

After coming undone, Namjoon pulls out and watches his cum mixed with yours drip down your pussy. It was such an erotic sight, almost reminding him like all those pornos he’s watched. Your tail was hiked straight up into the air, burying your face into the pillow as you purr.

Namjoon flips you back over so that he can see your face. He watches your chest rise up and down in an attempt to catch your breath. You whimper quietly.

“Hm, what is it, kitten?” he strokes your cheek tenderly with the back of his hand.

“Again.”

“Again?!” Namjoon laughs breathily, eyes wide. “Want a round two?”

“Yes, master.” You nod with a frivolous grin.

“What will you say?” He dives his hand down to play with your collar, running his fingers against the studs. “What’s the word, kitten?”

You plead with your eyes, lips forming a pout as you’ve never felt so needy in your entire life. The whole ride felt so good and you wanted to do it again and again and again with him, allowing the two of you to strengthen your bond together. You’re trusting him your entire life, you’re submitting to him. And you’ve never felt safer than before.

“Please.”

His lips connect with yours for a quick, light kiss, “Good.”

Ironically, the next day, Elijah had come knocking at Namjoon’s door with a set of papers in his hand. Namjoon had a protective stance with his arms crossed, eyeing the dude up and down.

‘So this is the guy who exploited my kitten…’

Although Elijah had absolutely no clue that he was talking to the Kim Namjoon of BTS. He was stuttering as he talks, hands shaking.

“I-I’m here to give… oh, uh… the— you know… p-papers… sir.” Elijah gulps, trying his best to keep eye contact with the much taller, bigger man in front of him. “Since, uh, y-you… well I guess since you o-own Y/n now… right?”

Namjoon wanted to punch his face so badly.

Before he replies, Namjoon hears the soft pitter-patter of your feet coming near, until they stop. He turns around to see you frozen in your spot behind him, anger, sadness, and disappointment were written across your face as you saw Elijah. Your blood boils and you quickly stride towards him, wanting to hurt him as he hurt you. You’ve never realized until now how much of an asshole he was towards you in comparison to Namjoon’s kindhearted self. Namjoon has shown you what it actually means to take care of you without all of the abuse that you thought was normal.

“Hey, hey, Kitten,” Namjoon was quick to hold you back before you can even lay a finger on Elijah. He turns you around and holds your face in his hands, “Be good and stay in our room, okay? I’ll be there in a minute,” he sees that your eyes were starting to well up with tears. He clicks his tongue, “Kitten… you don’t have to be afraid, okay? Remember what I always tell you?”

‘I’m gonna keep you safe.’ The sentence reappears in your mind.

With a final nod, you take the chance to give Elijah a scornful look before scurrying back to your room.

Elijah was watching the whole scene unfold with a surprisingly shocked look on his face. “How is she… Y/n’s so—”

“Stop. I don’t want to hear her fucking name coming out of your mouth,” Namjoon spits, grabbing the adoption papers from his hand.

“Well, how the fuck is she so good to you now?! She’s never like that when she’s with me!” Elijah argues.

“Are you dumb? The reason’s so simple. You didn’t train her properly and all you gave her was abuse. Why have a fucking hybrid in the first place…” he trails off while shaking his head in incredulity. “Now step out of my compound for I might just punch you in the face.”

Elijah immediately felt the chills in the back of his neck from the celebrity’s harsh words. “S-Sorry sir,” he raises his hands in an attempt to defend himself, “It will never happen again.”

“If only you’d apologize to Y/n like that.” Without any more final words, he slams the door shut on Elijah’s dumbfounded face.

The two of you couldn’t be any happier. Namjoon had signed the papers and can officially say that he claims you – in every context as possible. He sees you sitting idly on the couch, your eyes focused on the TV as you watched a Dwayne Johnson action movie. Chuckling at how cute you looked, he can’t seem to focus on the breakfast meal he was cooking.

It was until he feels his phone ring, signaling that there was a caller. He reads the I.D.

‘Kim Taehyung.’

He answers the call, “Hello, good morning, Taehyung!”

“Namjoon,” he starts with a strict, domineering tone, catching Namjoon off-guard, “Check the news. Check the news right now, hyung.”

“Woah, woah, woah!” he panics, leaving the kitchen as he speed-walks to you. You watch him in curiosity as he tries to find the remote. “What’s wrong? Is it about us?!”

“Just take a look!” Taehyung half whispers, and half screams.

Namjoon flips through the channels, ignoring your whine that you abruptly disturbed your movie.

His chest instantly tightens from the news headline.

‘RM from BTS spotted with a cat hybrid, along with an unknown man in front of his doorstep!’

Namjoon’s palms sweat, Taehyung’s voice being muffled out from the thoughts that were slowly eating him alive. Namjoon curses under his breath, feeling a sharp sting in his chest. “Oh god…” he shakes his head, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

The news showed an awfully clear picture of him holding Y/n’s face from yesterday, her tail and ears easily caught in the frame. “Did RM just bought a hybrid?” the female news reported says, “The person who took this photo claims that the man in front of RM looked extremely terrified. What could’ve been their conversation?”

As Namjoon was visibly panicking, not knowing what to do – you on the other hand was thrilled to see such a familiar face on the television screen.

“Master!” you squeal, pointing your index finger at the TV, “You!” Taking a closer look, you squint your eyes. After a couple of seconds later, you gasped. It finally dawned upon you.

“And… me?!”

~

Sorry if there were any errors. I’ve already read this numerous of times and every time, I somehow find a new typo. Gosh. 

Thank you for reading! Your support is genuinely appreciated. Ily guys, take care <3 

[mochiiwrites]

🍁✨Autumn Troupe Headcanons!✨🍁

Hooray for more uncensored swearing! Sorry, this took so long! It’s hard to think of things for the Autumn Troupe since I don’t know them super well!

🍁🧡Banri Settsu🧡🍁

Whenever it's time for practice, Banri begins by smacking the back of Juza's head! (Not super hard, but enough for it to piss him off)

Diluc main, that is all. Before he got Diluc he was an Amber main, and somehow was good. Still uses her every once in a while!

Slightly intimidated by languages sometimes, I dunno how to explain it, so hopefully the dialogue does!

“Banri, come here for a second.”

“Hell no, I’m in the middle of a match right now.”

“Banri.”

“Sit your ass down and wait, Chikage! I’m busy!”

"Halika dito! Huwag kang humintay na papatayin kita at iwanan kitang dumugo sa lansangan! Inumin ng mga aso ang iyong dugo at kukunin ng mga uwak ang iyong laman. Gusto mo yan?!" ("Come here! Don't wait for me to kill you and leave you bleeding in the street! Dogs will drink your blood and crows will take your flesh. Do you want that ?!" ) I'm unsure of the translation, since the filipino was from Irumaaaaa_saaaaamaaaaa's comment on my Ao3! I just put it into google translate

“Damn! Fine, fine, I’m comin! Chill out!”

His older sister gave him a leopard plushie when he was a kid, which is why he’s fucking obsessed with animal prints!

Plays drums and almost broke the coffee table because he “jammed too hard” on it!

Constantly messing up Taichi’s hair, or he’s drumming to songs on his head.

*boom boom bap boom boom bap*

“Buddy, you're a boy, make a big noise, playing in the street, gonna be a big man someday! You got mud on your face, you big disgrace! Kicking your can all over the place, singin'-”

“We will, we will rock you!”

“Haha! Hell yeah!”

🍁💜Juza Hyodo💜🍁

Likes carrying Muku or Kumon on his shoulders! Sometimes they still parade around!

“Are you sure about this, Ju-chan?”

“Yeah, you’re real light, y’know.”

“What the hell are you doing, Hyodo? Practice is soon.”

Chews on things a lot when he’s nervous! He always has gum or a lollipop to avoid chewing on his shirt, his nails and other inedible things!

Uses shorter Mankai members as an armrest, but only the ones who are okay with it! He’s polite like that.

On nights where he just can’t sleep, he’ll go on walks or drive around on his motorcycle!

Terrible with eye contact and looking like he’s paying attention. Sakyo has to snap his fingers at him to make sure he’s listening!

Y’know the awkward sibling hug from Gravity Falls, he and Kumon have done that...a lot. It’s not actually awkward though, they just liked the show!

“Awkward sibling hug?”

“...Awkward sibling hug.”

*embrace*

“...pat, pat.”

....

“Hyodos, what the hell?”

🍁💖Taichi Nanao💖🍁

Cried twice when he got his piercings, the first time was because he was very, very afraid, the second time was because he was so happy that he looked good with them!

Has Heelys! One time, he tried to 'heely' into the rehearsal room, but he immediately fell over!

Plays the ukulele! He wanted to play guitar because he saw someone serenading their partner with it at school! He borrowed Masumi's guitar but bar chords suck and his hands are kinda small, so he settled for the uke!

"Aghhh! How do you play that! That hurts my fingies!"

"I have bigger hands and more experience."

"But you're only like an inch taller than me!"

"Height doesn’t really have anything to do with this."

Has a Tiktok! He doesn't post often, it's more for looking at memes or sick outfits. (He does the dances though! He's pretty good at them but they're all in his drafts since he's not super confident in them!)

Y’know how kids crawl up the stairs really fast. He does that. Constantly. Kazunari joins in, sometimes. It pisses Sakyo off a lot, but he gave up on trying to get them to stop.

"Taicchan, what are you doing?"

"Kazu-kun! I got the zoomies!"

"Nice! Can I join ya?"

"For sure!"

*Rapid thumping up the stairs*

"Aren't you gonna stop them, Sakyo?"

"...If I had that ability, they would've stopped a long time ago. Those idiots don't listen."

He LOVES Sk8 The Infinity! Langa's his favourite character! He's also probably a Reki kinnie!

🍁💙Omi Fushimi💙🍁

(It's blue like his regular shirt and Tumblr doesn't have any other colours ;-;)

Despite being tone-deaf, he hums a lot when he cooks! No one seems to mind it!

Enjoys scrapbooking! He kind of prefers scrapbooks to albums, since scrapbooks have a more homemade vibe, you know?

Gives the best hugs, and tends to hold hands with the younger members when they cross the street!

Regularly has this conversation!

“Banri, have you eaten?”

“I dunno Omi, have YOU eaten?”

“...I have. But that's not what I’m concerned about.”

“...I had a granola bar like, an hour ago.”

“...I’m making you something.”

When he first joined the company, he took notes on what everyone liked and didn't like to eat, plus if they had allergies! He still has it, he just doesn't need to use it anymore!

I feel like something like this has happened once!

“Ah, Omi! Can you help me grab something?”

“Oh, sure. What do you need, Sakuya?”

“Homare asked me to get some of that tea, but I can’t rea-”

*lifts Sakuya like Simba*

“Ah! Omi, haha! What are you doing?”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it! Do you want me to stop?”

“Oh, no, it’s fine! It’s kinda fun actually.”

🍁💛Sakyo Furuichi💛🍁

Absolutely blind without his glasses, like it’s really bad. He walked into a doorframe without his glasses. Thankfully, no one noticed (he thinks).

He has a bit of bubble-wrap in his a pocket all the time and sometimes he uses it as a threat! (Hopefully that made sense...)

“Settsu, move over.”

“I literally can’t! Your fat ass is taking too much space!”

*pop*

“Just scoot your lazy ass over.”

*pop*

“I can’t I already-”

*pop*

“...Alright, I get it! I’ll shut up! Jeez, how is that so threatening...”

“...Asshole.”

*pop*

“...Sorry.”

Definitely told Azami that Santa wasn’t real when he was like 6.

Sakoda got him a mug that said #1 Dad but he crossed it out and replaced ‘Dad’ with ‘Aniki’! Sakyo still drinks out of it, sometimes!

Azami also made him a friendship bracelet when he was a lot younger. Sakyo doesn’t wear it (because it doesn’t fit him anymore) but he still has it! He likes rubbing the beads between his fingers.

Good at trivia! Like, really good. He somewhat enjoys Trivia Murder Party. (I just watched a play through and skipped to a random question, I have no idea if it’s actually hard lol.)

“Which body of water connects the Mediterranean Sea to the Atlantic Ocean?”

“Wh- How are we supposed to know that?!”

*Sakyo answers ‘The Strait of Gibraltar’ and is the only one who answers correctly*

“Fuck, my thumb slipped.”

“That shouldn’t be allowed. Sakyo’s shitty and old, he shouldn’t be able to know and remember things.”

“Oi, brat. I’m not that old. You’re not the one who got the answer right.”

“You’re not the one who literally never learned this!”

🍁❤️Azami Izumida❤️🍁

Has smacked too many cans/cups out of Itaru and Tsuzuru’s hands!

“Wh-”

“Drink actual water. And jeez, go take a nap or something. Your skin is even worse than I thought it could get. Aren’t you supposed to be the responsible one in the Spring Troupe?”

“Ah... I guess, you are right. Thanks for looking out for me.”

“W-well! W-we can’t have you on stage looking like a raisin! S-so!”

Often criticizes Izumi’s eyeliner and ends up just doing it for her. N-not that he minds or anything!

Played Love Nikki at some point, I do not take that much criticism.

Because I think the troupe/play themes are canon, he definitely helped with Shake the Shape and wrote some of RESPAWN!

Always has extra hair ties on him, even though most of the others don’t really need them. Most of the time, the hair ties end up being used for...other purposes.

“Ready.”

“What?”

“Aim.”

“Azami, I swear to whatever god is listening, if you fire that elasti-”

“Fire.”

“...You shitty brat-”

“Oh shi-”

Part of the ‘wears nail polish’ squad! He hates stickers. (Most of the time they somehow fall off) His go-to is an alternating pattern of black and red.

[cellard0ors]

Fic: Little Bit Hot, Little Bit (Bitter) Sweet

For @peachworthy ,who asked about Link's ennui when it came to his bachelor party and its lack of strippers. (Warning for infidelity)

"So, what was that about?"

Link and Rhett are back in their office, gathering up their things. The Mythical Crew has already checked out for the day, leaving the two lifelong friends alone and Rhett is looking at Link inquisitively after posing this question.

Link, not meeting his eyes, is idly adjusting the zipper on his laptop bag, "Don't know what you mean."

Rhett rolls his eyes, "Of course you do. You got all weird when we analyzed that one organizational pic. The one for the bachelor trip. Why? Was it cause I got another point?"

Link hasn't redirected his attention from the bag, so Rhett presses on, "I can't help that I smoke you at these things, man."

"It wasn't that," Link cuts in neatly, words practically overlapping over Rhett's, "It's..."

He shrugs helplessly, "Silly."

"It ain't," Rhett argues, "Not if it bothers you this much, so," he gestures to him to continue even as he says, "Go on..."

Link sighs and finally looks away from the bag, putting it to one side. He sits on their couch and flaps his hands," Look, I was just thinking back on my bachelor party and how it wasn't that big a celebration and it just-? I don't know...brought me down? It's just that there are a finite amount of things you can experience in your life and I guess I just've been feeling like I missed out on a lot."

"... because you didn't have strippers?"

Link levels Rhett with a look at that, but Rhett counters with his own, "Look, bo - we both got plenty of time left. Is that it? This some kinda midlife crisis thing? Cause I know Lily's going to college has left you feeling a lil'-?"

"I'm not having a midlife crisis," Link returns in a slightly waspish tone, arms crossing, "I'm simply recognizing things I missed out on "

"Link, if...if you want to go to a strip club-?"

"Christ," Link hisses with a surprising amount of annoyance - so much so that Rhett bristles at it, surprised and hurt until Link drops, "I don't want that. I just-? I want-?"

His voice drops in volume, soft and sad, "I just want to feel special."

Rhett blinks in shock. He opens his mouth, closes it. He's at a complete loss on how to answer, which a relatively new experience for him. Luckily, Link is more than up for filling in the silence, "Ain't like I need a stripper for that... albeit someone taking off their clothes for my enjoyment is a nice benefit, but..."

Rhett just stands there. Looming above Link, thinking and silent and Link shrugs again, rubs his palms over his knees, "Been married for forty three years... getting to damn near fifty and I don't regret a second of it, but it's-? It's nice, y'know?"

He sighs and tips his head back so it rests against the couch, eyes closed, "It's nice now and again to think of yourself as... attractive. Special."

The silence stretches out and Link shakes his head, "Man, just-? Just ignore me. I'm talking crazy, I'm talking-!"

Link's words are cut off by the sound of music coming from their blue tooth speakers. It takes him a minute to recognize it and when he does, his head shoots upright lightning fast, eyes wide, because it's ZZ Top.

It's not the kind of tune they normally listen to, but as Billy Gibbons starts singing for someone to give him all their loving, Rhett starts shaking his hips.

It's overly theatrical and he's toying with his shirt, lifting up the hem this way and that and Link bursts into giggles. Is his friend serious?

Apparently he is, as he starts making 'come hither' motions to Link and Link, still laughing, shakes both his head and hands, because no way is he going to get up and dance with this lovable idiot.

Rhett, undeterred, shifts his attention to his shirt again – whipping it off in one smooth motion before raising it one handed above his head, spinning it in crazy circles.

Link, seeing now exactly what his pal’s intentions are, begins to hoot and holler, clapping as if watching a real strip show. Rhett makes sure to toss the shirt at him and Link catches it easily.

He fawns over it dramatically, fanning himself and going as full ham as he can. Rhett’s nose scrunches up and he bends over laughing, clutching at his knees a moment before tossing his long hair back, a near perfect replica of a professional stripper tossing back her locks around during a routine.

He spins on his heels and kicks off his shoes clumsily before turning back, unbuttoning his jeans and slipping them off with as much skill as he did the shirt.

Once again, he tosses the discarded article of clothing at Link, who this time tosses it aside as if it’s an annoyance. There’s Rhett, in his boxer briefs and socks, shaking his booty at Link and it’s – without a doubt – one of the greatest things Link has ever seen.

Absolutely hilarious and silly and just the thing to snap him out of his blues.

As Link starts pretending to ‘make it rain’, Rhett dancing within the fake flurry of bills, he wonders idly if Rhett is going to climb upon his lap.

If he’ll embark on some faux lap dance or try to find something that he can work as a pole, but instead Rhett backs up and Link can’t help but snort, pumping one fist as he brusquely cheers, “Back dat thing up!”

Rhett stops again, chuckling, and Link breaks down as well, the two losing themselves to laughter. Link suspects at any moment Rhett will stand upright and resume a more conservative mien, but instead Rhett literally waggles his ass near Link and Link can’t help but pretend to spank him.

To be fair, he kind of really did spank him in that video they did – what’s so different about this?

Well, it turns out it is different, because when Rhett unceremoniously seats himself upon Link’s lap, his back to Link’s front, things are...not exactly the same.

Okay, so, yes – they did this in that same video – however, in that video, it had all been for show and Rhett hadn’t been…so…fully seated. Much less…grinding.

He’s grinding joyously on Link’s lap, completely unaware that this has just gone a wee bit too far, because yeah, the heat of him? The feel?

…oh boy.

Link’s…’not so’ little Link notices. And then some. Rhett’s rocking against him in perfect sync with the thrumming bass of the song and it’s been awhile since Link has felt this kind of special. Both he and Christy have been busy with this or that and this is…ahhh…

Rhett really works himself downward, creating a fantastic friction between his ass cheeks and Link’s burgeoning erection and Link closes his eyes tight, ready to speak up when Rhett knocks back against him some, tone throaty, “This working for you?”

“Rhett…” Link chokes out and Rhett, having yet to clearly recognize any troublesome signs, just gives him the sauciest grin, “Thinking it’s working for me. Working up a good ol’ sweat – might have ta take this act on the road, see if Jes-!”

“No,” Link grunts, because…he can’t think about that right now. He can’t think about anything. Instead, he grabs a firm hold of Rhett and does his best to halt his movement.

Rhett makes a questioning sound and then? Then he flushes. His cheeks grow fully crimson, green eyes wide as he pushes back just that little bit and he lets out a quiet, ‘Oh.’

Link nods. Rhett stops his movements completely. Link sits there in horrified humiliation, waiting for the hammer to drop, but then? Then Rhett does something completely crazy.

Crazy, immoral – absolutely nuts.

He…starts moving again.

This time with…intent.

He circles his hips and rocks backwards and Link lets out a choked sob, confused and betrayed and yet…unable to deny himself. His grip moves to Rhett’s hips and they’re surprisingly full. They fill up his sweating palms perfectly and Link can’t help himself.

He curses and prays to God equally as he locks down on Rhett and thrusts up. His rapidly swelling dick reaches its maximum hardness and – even through all the layers – he swears he can feel that sweet spot between Rhett’s cheeks – feel that hidden spot, that entrance, that-!

Link’s head knocks back on a full throttle moan and Rhett is not helping as he swallow thickly, muttering his own curse and…moving again.

Rhett is moving again.

And then so is Link.

They start working against one another – Rhett bearing down, Link thrusting up and the air fills with the sounds of their thick, heavy panting – whimpers and moans and Link knows his grip on Rhett has to be bruising and he wants to ease up, wants to relax it, but he can’t, he can’t.

He can do nothing but chase after this vicious, hungry pleasure and it’s like a beast inside of him has been awoken. It snarls and bears its fangs and bears down on its prey with full force.

What had started off as stupid fun has turned into a charged, erotic moment beyond comprehension and Rhett gasps Link’s name, gasps nonsensical things – filthy things.

And when Link hears something along the lines of ‘can practically feel you in me’ he loses himself entirely. With a sharp cry, his body releases – his cock throbbing with endless ecstasy as wet, hot heat fills the front of his drawers As his cock exerts itself, spilling his seed, balls pulsing and it’s so good, so good, so good.

It takes him awhile to recognize he’s chanting this helplessly into Rhett’s back as he thrusts up into him. As he cums and cums and he’s never had a climax like this.

One that leaves him blind, deaf, and dumb to everything. But then -just as wonderfully as the spell washed over him – it washes away.

And he’s cold.

And he’s ashamed.

And he’s…fuck.

The fact his next thought is that he wants more just makes him feel even worse and then Rhett slowly peels his fingers away from him.

The force Link used to hold Rhett in place is horrifying to him and he wouldn’t be surprised if Rhett never forgives him for it, if it wasn’t for the fact that – when Rhett rises – he’s clearly aroused.

His own underwear is tented by his obviously full cock and he turns to Link and licks his lips, eyes bright and hot as he husks, “Be back.”

Rhett disappears into their shared bathroom and Link has no doubt about what he’s doing in there. Not that Link is going to wait around to find out. He immediately springs from the chair. He springs from the chair and flees – flees because that wasn’t supposed to happen.

Nothing like that was ever, ever supposed to happen and his whole body is still humming with the afterglow of pleasant release and yet his eyes are burning with unshed tears because – what has he done?

What did he do? What did they do?

He just wanted to feel special and now?

Now, he feels nothing.

[howdoyousleep3]

Today's self care story is:

The rising sun found Steve alone in his bed. That, in and of itself, wasn't all that strange, seeing as he lived alone on his ranch; even his workers preferred to commute from town.

But this morning, waking up alone confused and slightly upset the man, since last night when he went to bed, he very much wasn't.

He and Bucky had wiled away some very pleasant hours in this very bed, after sharing an amazing dinner that Bucky had created with produce fresh from his garden, homemade pasta, and some very potent strawberry wine.

Needless to say, Steve was not expecting a cold bed, and it hurt.

But he'd have to wait to get answers; a rancher's work is never done, and he had a lot to do before the sun got too high to do it.

-

A shower and two cups of coffee got him out the door of not in better spirits, at least more awake. He angled his hat to block the glare of the climbing sun, and he knew he was setting up for a truly foul mood when he wasn't even able to appreciate the sunrise like normal.

He turned his boots towards the stables, getting prepares to wrestle Tina into the stocks so he could milk her before the first of his workers arrived, when a flash of color from the paddock caught his eye.

The sight in front of him made his blood run cold while simultaneously breaking him out in sweat:

There was Bucky, petting and cooing at Cane, Steve’s latest rescue horse.

Cane was massive, with Clydesdale not far back in his lineage, and came to Steve nearly feral from the abuse he suffered before being rescued. Honestly, Steve had been losing hope at rehabilitating the animal, who would kick and bite and scream at anyone and anything that came into his line of vision.

And Bucky, Steve saw as he made his--very SLOW, very CALM--way to the paddock, was singing softly and braiding flowers into his mane.

"You better not be here to yell at me, Steve," Bucky said, not altering the quality of his voice when Steve got close. "Poor sweetheart is almost deaf in this left ear, and I don't need him spooking."

"Bucky," Steve's voice was straining with the struggle of sounding calm and soothing, "I need you to get away from Cane, darlin'. He's had a really rough time of it, and could really, really hurt you."

"I am fully aware that this baby has been through hell, rancher-man," Bucky’s words sounded sweet, but the look he shot Steve could curdle milk. "I don't appreciate the patronizing tone you've got going on, and you can go cool your head after you bring me a brush, a comb, and a hoof care kit."

"Buck..."

"Now, Steve. Leave them in my bag over on the gate. Grab my cologne bar and use it while you're over there. Cane doesn't like your shampoo. Or maybe your detergent. He hates your smell, anyways. Chop-chop. I'm running out of flowers."

Steve couldn't do anything but obey.

Nor could he do anything but watch from a distance, chewing his nails and wishing he hadn't quit smoking as Bucky pampered and pet the beast the Steve was almost sure he'd have to destroy. He messaged all his workers and told them to take the back pasture road to the house, so the sound and smell of the cars wouldn't spook Cane while Bucky had a massive hoof tucked between his knees.

It seemed to take forever, but Bucky finally waved Steve back over to the paddock, grabbing his hand as he climbed through the fence.

"Alright, sweetness," Bucky was still speaking to the horse, but Steve couldn't suppress the shiver that ran through his thighs as he remembered that pet name cooed at him last night, "you know Steve, and you know he's only trying to help you. He loves you just as much as I do, and he's gonna stop smelling like the ones that hurt you. I promise that he's one of the best men in the world and he's never gonna raise his hand against you. If you trust me, babylove, you can trust him. Okay?"

Now, Steve knew that horses are smart. Like, really smart and sensitive and empathic as fuck. But not even he was prepared for what happened.

Cane lowered his heavy head and locked eyes with Bucky for what seemed like an eternity, then nuzzled so, so gently against his chest, making the man rock back slightly, and staring at Steve. Once again, it seemed like an eternity, but Steve remained calm and tried to project all of his worry and devotion to making Cane better into his gaze.

And with a final, long suffering sigh, Cane shifted his head and pressed it to Steve's chest, trembling with residual fear, nostrils flaring, but remaining still.

"Holy Christ," Steve whispered.

"Well go on," Bucky chided. "Give him a scritch. Mind the left ear, though."

And so they stood, long after the sun rose high, petting and scritching this poor, ravaged animal, whispering and cooing and praising him for being so, so brave until Cane fianlly huffed and wandered towards the food and water troughs.

Steve refused to let go of Bucky’s hand as he dragged him back to the house.

"I was going to get some eggs from the coop for breakfast," Bucky explained as Steve pulled him back to the bedroom and shoved him on the bed. "When I saw him, he was crying, and I just couldn't stand it."

"You are so fucking beautiful," Steve growled as he tore at the front of Bucky’s jeans, his knees thudding against the floor. "A goddamned angel. Nearly gave me a heart attack, seeing you with Cane. But the way he responded to you...fuck!" The rest of his words were lost as he swallowed Bucky to the hilt, making the other man moan loud enough to echo through the house.

None of Steve's chores got done. Not that he gave a fuck.

This is the absolute best thing I could have read on this Self Care Sunday. My heart is aflutter, my eyes are all weepy. I’m in love with Rancher Steve and his infatuation for sweet ‘ol patient loving Cottage Buck. Strawberry wine, horse hair braiding, rancher-man, babylove, Steve shivering at sweetness. I’m gonna float through this fucking self care day. I adore you. Thank yooouuu.

[sugoi-writes]

Bakugo’s s/o gets him ear plugs and they aren’t bothered by his temper and ask him would he like to be deaf and not to be able to hear things. Like their voice his voice anyone! Bakugo knows their right and starts to wear them

I’m going to get cavities, dammit!  Thank you for this, this is adorable guodgdou please enjoy! 

Bakugou meeting up with you like this wasn’t unusual. In fact, spontaneous dates usually were for the best. Bakugou’s schedule was subject to change at the drop of the a hat, especially if he could squeeze in some training between patrols and missions.

He was zoning out, lazily sipping on some water. Before long, he caught your silhouette out of the corner of his eye, and straightened up at the sight of something in your hands. What the fuck was that?

Immediately, Bakugou’s mind started to wonder. Not that it was a big deal, but... did he miss something? Was it someone’s birthday; your birthday? Was this a cheesy anniversary date? Was the restaurant doing some weird event? It wasn’t White Day, was it--???

“Hey!” you chime happily, taking your seat across from Bakugou, who looked visibly confused and flustered,” ‘You okay? You’re not looking so hot.” 

Bakugou’s brow twitches at the horrible joke, forcing you to choke back your laughter as he finally relaxed,” I’m fine, I’m fine. But I wanna know what the fuck that’s about,” he retorts bluntly, pointing to a small, sleek package in your hands. You smile, giving it a little shake,” Oh this? It’s for you,” you say casually, setting it on the table before sliding it his way,” Here. Go ahead and open it.”

Bakugou gives you an inquisitive glare, narrowing his eyes at you as he gingerly takes it,” I don’t like that tone you’ve got there...,” Bakugou grumbles, a small flush rising to his cheeks,” What’s the special occasion, anyway? It’s not our anniversary or anything...”

You continue to smile, resting your chin on your hands as you place your elbows on the table,” Oh trust me, I know you wouldn’t forget about that. But... I had some left over money from this pay period, and... I wanted to get you something. Something you’ve needed for a while.” Bakugou seems to accept this answer, even if he doesn’t like receiving gifts. 

This was fine, he’d suppose... but why chose a noisy ramen joint to give it to him? You could have just given it to him at home after work or--

His train of thought completely stops, as he feels a feverish, red tint ghost his ears and most of his face. Are those...?

“Ear protection,” you say, finishing his thoughts,” Because you need it.” Bakugou blinks, stupefied for a moment. And then, he clamps his fists, glancing away from you,” Why’d you waste your money on shit like that? I don’t like handouts, especially ones I don’t need.” 

You roll your eyes, knowing that Bakugou just had a hard time processing his thoughts,” You do need them, dumbass,” you fire back, grinning,” Besides... how many years have you been training with such a powerful quirk like that? It’s enough to hurt yourself, as well as the villains you chase down day after day.” 

Bakugou scoffs softly, not wanting to give you an inch of gratification,” Yeah yeah, I train my ass off to make sure I don’t hurt myself. I have all of the gear and experience I need. You shouldn’t waste your money on auxiliary crap. Especially some wireless earbuds.”

“These aren’t just some regular music earbuds, Katsuki,” you interject,” These are specialized, noise-cancelling ear buds. They cancel out a lot of the volume and impact from a high-noise environment. You could wear these bad boys on a flight line, or at a gun range.” 

You lean back in your chair, watching Bakugou’s face contort incredulously,” ...And... if you would believe it, your quirk is pretty explosive and loud. Almost as bad as a jet liner taking off.” Bakugou is receptive to what you’re saying now, and listens as you go on (albeit, he didn’t care for the sass).

“I actually did some research on this, y’know. You’ve told me before that you’ve experienced ringing in your ears after training and fighting, right? And sometimes even outside of that? That’s tinnitus. And while that isn’t a direct link to hearing loss... it can get worse over time, and be triggered by loud events, head injuries; all that kind of stuff. And you go through all kinds of stress and trauma just doing your day-to-day routine.” 

You reach across the table,” I’m not going to lie to you... I’m... worried about you, Katsuki,” you say honestly, taking his hand. Bakugou doesn’t pull away from your touch, looking to you intently. 

“There’s only a certain threshold that we should be exposed to daily, before hearing loss can set in. And... even for a guy like you, that threshold is constantly exploited by your own quirk. And I just thought... you’d like the chance to start being safe sooner, and protect what you have left.” 

Bakugou looks away, shrugging,” I have pretty extraordinary hearing,” he pipes up, grumbling,” Even my doctor says that I can withstand some pretty insane stuff. My threshold is way higher than the average person. Especially someone who’s quirkless.” Bakugou grits his teeth, a certain knucklehead coming to mind. 

“Would you want to risk not hearing my voice for the rest of your life?” 

Bakugou’s attention snaps back to you, the impact of your words hitting him like a brick wall,” If you aren’t careful, you won’t hear a thing. Me, your parents, Kirishima and the others... you would only be able to feel what your explosions do. And while a lot of people can get along just fine like that, or even born that way... I know that deep down, it’s a risk you’d never want to take.” 

You let go of his hand, leaning back and sitting properly in your seat,” ...so why don’t you try them on at least? You may be surprised by how much you like them. And beyond getting some good food...I figured this would be the best place to test them out.” 

Bakugou is a little startled with how firm you were with him... but it’s an assertiveness that he can respect. And, at the end of the day, you still bought him something. Even if you bought him a pet rock, he would keep it on his night stand and never let it out of his sight (don’t you dare tell anyone that). 

“Okay, okay--! Tch... I’ll try them on, if it makes you that happy,” he spits, practically tearing the ear pieces out of their packaging. They did look nice... they were solid black, with a bit of orange trim. Dammit... these were probably custom, weren’t they? He gives you another glare, which was probably deserved, before he puts in the custom buds. 

Immediately, the restaurant becomes... muffled. Almost too muffled. He can hear you talking to him, but nothing above a whisper, and starts to look around. He can see mouths moving, people laughing, but can barely hear a lick of it. He looks back to you, before taking one of them out,” ...alright... so they work. Big deal.” 

You smile, satisfied, as you continue,” Weeeell, that’s not all~ These buds have the capabilities to be synced with a smart device, so... you can use them as a communicator, for music, AND ear protection. There’s also adjustable levels, so if you don’t like how much that one cuts out, you can always tweak it. It comes with different little rings too, to better fit your ear canal--” 

“Shut up,” Bakugou says, putting a hand up to you. He looks away quickly, his face still intensely red,” Th-They’re... they’re fine on their own, okay... this... was actually really thoughtful, Y/N.” You smile despite the slightly harsh treatment, knowing that Bakugou just hated to get flustered in public. 

Bakugou gently places the earbuds back in the packaging, before standing up. You’re a little startled by this, afraid that he was finally gonna ‘kick your ass’ like he always claimed. However, he just leans across the table, giving your hair a gentle ruffle.He follows this up with a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. 

“...I guess I owe you one... dammit... Thanks. Thank you, really... This gift really is something special,” Katsuki says, his tone straining to be even. You knows he’s usually never good with thank you’s, but this has GOT to be the best one you’ve received yet! 

You could only smile as you reached across the table, grasping his hands,” No problem, Katsuki~ I’m just glad you came around to them~”

A voice clears beside you, forcing you and Bakugou to look to your right. A waiter has come by, looking to you both expectantly,” Would you like a few moments, or can I get something started for you tonight?” 

Bakugou scoffs, tearing his hands away as he glances over towards you,” ...I know what I want. Put whatever we get on my tab. And a drink, for my date, while they decide what to get,” he bites back. 

The waiter rolls his eyes, takes your drink order, and leaves to retrieve it. You give Bakugou a look, telling him that he needs to work on his tone. Bakugou mimics your expression, huffing,” I get it, I get it... I’ll try to be a little... nicer... this time...” He grumbled under his breath how the two of you were interrupted, but didn’t press the issue further. He bumps your leg with his knee, looking back to you softly,” But I am serious about tonight, y’know. Get whatever you want; I don’t care. I’ll pay for whatever you get.” 

You reach across the table once more, grabbing Baku’s hand before planting a kiss to his calloused knuckles,” Well, I appreciate that~ Thank you, Bakugou~” you chime, smiling at him. Bakugou can only scoff once more, grumbling gently,” Y-You’re welcome... anything for you, babe.” 

.

.

.

I’m crying in the club, thank you for the prompt gidugdiydgid

[imnotwolverine]

Good enough

Henry Cavill x reader drabble

Disclaimer: angsty fluff, insecurity, slight possessiveness, some strong language (and tickle danger)

Word count: 1.769

Author’s note: On request of a dear Nonnie: “could u write something about henry comforting the reader when she feels insecure in their relationship?” + fluffy. Now, nonnie, I think Henry has all kinds of ways to comfort his lady, but this? After a few drinks? Definitely. 

Song I listened to while writing: Matt Corby - Miracle Love

(Link to my Masterlist)

--

Oh! These darn long legs. Those unblemished skins that basked in luxurious licks of expensive French cosmetics, finished off with whiter than white million dollar smiles. Literal million dollar smiles. 

All night you just stood there, watching one after the other cookie cutter beauty “casually” greet Henry. You just stood there and stood there, sipping on boozy drinks as you watched one after the other, old and young, bold and beautiful, try a best attempt at some “innocent little flirtation”. Especially when you pretended not to hear them over the loud noise of the after party.

But you could. 

Oh yes you could. 

You weren’t deaf, you weren’t blind, and despite your best efforts to just let it slide, your painted lips turned into fake a smile..you couldn’t help but let it affect you. 

It hurt. 

You were no cookie cutter beauty. Peculiar, perhaps. Unique, your mom would say. But as the night progressed it appeared that unique, peculiar beauty brought you nothing but the sensation that you didn’t belong. That you weren’t thin enough, that your boobs weren’t big enough, you face not symmetric enough. 

Just not enough. At least not the be here with Henry. 

Returning home after what seemed like the longest cab drive ever - once more because maddening crowds couldn’t leave your celebrity boo alone -, all you truly wanted was to just close your eyes and forget about it all. Your shared bed beckoned you to come, was willing you to dive into its warm, silky embrace.  

Henry, however, had other plans. 

As the two of you maneuvered around the living room, slightly inebriated after a cocktail too many, you felt his eyes on you. Which meant you either had to get to bed real fucking fast, or just give in. Not that is was a bad thing. Henry was rock in the turmoil of your life. He always wanted you, showed it in every way possible and if he needed to tell you a million times how much he loved you, he would say it a trillion times. 

And when he gave you that look, like he did right now, it was clear that he was very adamant on showing you yet again how much he loved you. He would envelop you in his arms and kiss every little concern away. 

Because he was a good man. He knew when you weren’t feeling okay. 

And he cared. 

Tonight though, you didn’t feel up to it, your face pulled into a dark frown as you struggled to get out of the painful contraptions that were your high heels. Finally, after some awkward tugs, the little straps released your sore feet and you quickly made for the stairs. Not quick enough though. Strong arms enveloping you, just as expected. 

‘Hey you.’ Henry hummed, the alcohol running thick in his bear-like veins, his voice slightly husky. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t possible escape the steel strength that lingered beneath his warm skinned arms. 

‘Henn..I’m tired..just let me go to..’ - ‘Are you okay?’ He easily broke off your half-arsed attempt to fend him off, his voice now far more gentle and inquisitive, blue eyes searching yours as he turned you in his iron lock of love. You sighed, your frustration quickly sinking away as those ocean blue orbs studied you, willing you to break down whatever wall you were building up. 

‘It’s fine.’ 

‘Fine?’ 

‘Yea..fine. I’m fine. You’re fine. We’re all fine! UGH! Now just..’ You tried to push his arms away before the last of your frustration was taken away by him again. Somehow you wanted to feel frustrated for a bit. You had the right to be frustrated, right? Who wouldn’t be frustrated after..after..this? 

Henry licked his lips, his brows furrowing in a thoughtful frown. ‘No.’ He simply stated, which made you frown in turn. ‘No? No what Henry?’ 

‘Just no. You’re not fine.’ He shook his head once, as if that was decided, then cupped your cheek in one hand, keeping the other safely wrapped around your lower back. ‘And either I’m going to guess all night till I get it right. Or you’re going to tell me what is up.’ 

You rolled your eyes. ‘Hennn...ugh..come on let’s just go to sleep. It’s nothing, really.’ 

‘Hmm..very well then.’ Henry’s face relaxed, a glint of cheekiness etching his lips and before you could even question what was up, you were lifted into the air and thrown over his shoulder, your pretty Greek-inspired gown making you look like the helpless Persephone as she was stolen away by Hades. Squirming like a little leaf that weighed nothing in the clutch of his bear hands. 

‘HENN! PUT ME DOWN!’ 

‘Shh..the neighbors.’ He teased, patting your butt playfully. 

‘Henn..’ You warned more quietly now. ‘I’m not in the mood...’ 

‘I know, I know. And I promise you’ll get to bed soon enough. But first..’ He moved you to the couch and carefully placed you in your favourite spot in the corner, licking his lips again as he settled next to you, folding your legs over his lap like you always liked to them be when you were together. Watching movies or just cuddling.  

‘Hmmm...maybe it’s the shoes? Hmm? Painful shoes?’ 

You didn’t respond, just watching him as he picked up your feet, strong digits starting to massage the painful skin there, rubbing away all sore spots with mighty precision. You sighed quietly, closing your eyes for a moment - it was good. 

‘Mmm..’ He peeked back at you, then shook his head. ‘Nope, it’s not that.’ He stopped his massage instantaneously. You swatted his arm, not agreeing with him stopping as quickly as he started, then swiftly turned your face back into a frown. 

‘Hmm...maybe it’s...the bra?’ He reached out an arm to unclasp the clip of the bra you wore beneath your dress, but you quickly pushed away his hand. ‘No.’ You said with an angry pout on your red painted lips. 

‘Alright. Fair enough. Not the bra.’ He licked his lips again, thinking aloud. ‘And not the hair, the make-up, the food? The food was good, right?’ He teased, feigning innocence as he continued to list anything and everything that obviously wasn’t the problem. 

‘Perhaps it was the setting. Yes, that might be it. I too get a little bit of an iffy feeling when I’m in a museum. All the artworks..the..’ He sat back in the couch, as if readying himself to list every item to be found in a goddamn museum. 

You sighed with exasperation. ‘No..Hen. Ugh. Fine. I just feel insecure. You happy now?’ You folded your arms over your chest and evaded his gaze, his warm eyes studying you after his tiny victory. You had answered, finally. 

‘Talk to me about it.’ 

‘No.’ 

‘Baby..’ He raised an eyebrow and from the corner of your eye you could see him reach an arm out again, this time obviously ready for a tickle assault if need be, his hand sprawled out like a spidery claw. 

Honestly though; this man had some absolutely barbarian techniques to get you out of a foul mood. Tickle fights? Oh yes he was brutal like that. Quickly snapping your head back at him, you glared at him with widened eyes. ‘Don’t you..DARE.’ You hissed through clenched teeth, barely managing to hide the slight amusement that trickled into your voice. 

Amusement? Why yes. Tickle fights with Henry were actually kind of fun, because he was ticklish, too. Two could be barbarians. And he knew that once instigated, he wouldn’t get out of this assault unharmed, “ungiggling”. 

Reaching an arm out with equal impending doom you were now right in the middle of some type of Mexican stand-off, both of you holding out a clawed hand, ready to snap into a tickle assault. 

‘It’s a fine day for a tickle fight.’ He said airily, offering you a bastardian grin. ‘Oh you do not know what you’re getting yourself into Cavill..’ You warned, your voice getting heavier with amusement, slow seconds ticking away.

Here you were, sitting in full gala getup, folded over each others laps, holding out clawed hands at each other. 

Because you were silly dorks, it had to be admitted. 

And this..well this was kind of cute..that needed to be admitted, too.  

You weren’t feeling quite so annoyed and insecure anymore, but you most definitely weren’t going to admit that just yet. Keeping your face pulled into an unamused frown you peered back at him over your outstretched claw, ready to pounce.  

‘Very well, Mr. Bond.’ You purred, dangerously, your cat-eyed eyeliner perfectly fitting in your newly found role.  

‘Mmm..what say you, Pussy? You, me..a tickle fight?’ He purred back, a devilish smirk appearing on his Bond-esque lips. It was fitting. He was every bit the James Bond like this. Smooth shaven jawline, crisp tuxedo, smoothed back chocolate hair. And that smirk. That DARN smirk. 

‘Why..was that a question?’ You raised a teasing eyebrow, as if enticing him to start the fight. But he didn’t take the bait, his eyebrow also raising up high. ‘Why? Mmm..’ He dropped his voice an octave. ‘Well..maybe Pussy wants something else entirely?’ His tone may have been playful, but the message beneath his words was clear; tell me if you want me to stop. Tell me if you want to talk. 

You sat up a bit, lowering your clawed hand slightly. 

‘Tell me..Mr Bond..of all the vixens in your vicinity. Why me?’ Your voice kept its deep, teasing purr, but also here there was a message laced through its syllables. A message that did not go unnoticed, Henry also shifting his weight slightly, moving in closer, lowering his arm. 

‘Why? Because there’s only one Pussy for Bond. And she’s a funny thing, she is.’ He lilted with a heavy Brit accent, leaning in even closer. ‘..and far prettier than the rest of ‘em too...’ He smirked as you rolled your eyes. ‘..and by the Gods..can she kick my butt if need be.’ 

You both chuckled. 

‘Good thing I’m unarmed.’ You said, smiling finally as you fully lowered your arm. ‘As am I, Pussy, as am I.’ He grumbled, being so close now that all he needed to do was press his lips forward. 

But he didn’t. He just smiled. Huffing quietly - what a tease he was - you closed in the last bit of distance between you, lips locking with his. Slightly tangy with alcohol, slightly musky with his breath, slightly gasping as you didn’t want it to end, you just sat there, almost entirely hidden away on his lap. 

Kissing. 

Because you WERE good enough. 

More than good enough. 

And he’d make sure you knew it and felt it every..single..day. 

[jojo-reader-hell]

if requests are open,,,,,,, Blease,,, I need formaggio as an older brother to a little sister who's 17 and almost as fucking chaotic as he is,,,,,,, I'm DIE

YAAAAAAAAAS FIRST REQUEST!!! I’m living for all of us wanting big brothers! And I love stinky cheese man, so I hope you enjoy this little thing I had on my mind whilst doing the dishes at work!

...

Formaggio was lucky...

“GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF ME!”

Crying echoed throughout the streets of Napoli. If he hadn’t decided on a whim to take the alley, he would have been too late.

“Shut your yap whore!”

He was running. The crying was getting louder. Nearly tripping over his own feet. He could hear the screams, they were yours. There was no mistaking that voice. Hothead that you were, you wanted more than anything to escape the hellhole that was the family home, even if it meant joining him in his life of debauchery. You’d used that exact word. Like he simply picked pockets on Sundays.

“GET OFF OF ME! GET OFF!”

It wasn’t easy to keep you away. After he stopped sending letters he thought you would give up. You used to follow him, screaming and carrying on in a fit when he finally had to drag you back home, could still feel the pain on his knees where you would kick at him. Of course being your big brother, Formaggio could easily outrun you if need be. Yet that didn’t make it any easier. He still died inside any time he had to go. It was easier to be a check in the mail for you to cash, that way your parents wouldn’t drink up the money. As much as he wanted to save you from that den of squalor he knew there wasn’t any way they’d let a teenage girl without a Stand into Passione. There was no work to be had for a young lady... well, that was a lie. There was always work in the mafia for everyone.

But he could never do that to you. Couldn’t live with himself if he allowed them to dress you in the shortest dress they could find, painting you like a clown with ruby lipstick and purple eyeshadow, eventually auctioning you off to the oldest and horniest creepy bastard that would inevitably be the highest bidder. Seventeen year olds could yield a pretty price in Passione...

“I promise not to hurt you if you stop screaming~...”

“GET OFF! LIKE YOU’LL HURT ME WITH THAT NEEDLE DICK!”

“... what the fuck did you just tell me?!”

Formaggio heard the contact of a hand on skin, heard you yelp, the crumple of your body hitting the pavement. And the crying... That mother fucker who got you wouldn’t live to see the sun rise. Whoever it was, he was going to kill him. Cut his balls off and shove them down his throat for touching his baby sister. Yet as much as he was keyed up to make a kill, he found himself freezing when he saw the pink aura surrounding you. Your mouth was closed, you weren’t the one crying like a baby.

“I SAID YOU HAVE A NEEDLE DICK! YOU WANT ME TO SAY IT AGAIN?! I WILL!”

“You’re going to regret this you slut-!”

“NEEDLE DICK NEEDLE DICK NEEDLE DICK NEEDLE DICK NEEDLE DICK-!”

You screamed like a five year old throwing a tantrum, the crying turning into a shrill scream that made Formaggio clap his hands over his ears. Through the caterwauling he could hear another’s screams joining that of the Stand that was howling over your hunched form. The one that had been trying to take your innocence had blood soaking through the front of his pants, cupping his crotch and screaming in agony as you chanted your childish insults at him, the Stand holding out her hands in front of her and echoing his screams.

“GO THE FUCK AWAY!”

He had to have gone deaf temporarily, it seemed like it would never stop, until you stood and threw your hands forward and sent the bastard flying. Eventually the Stand’s screams died down, breaking from a banshee’s shrieks to shallow gasps for breath. Like she’d run a marathon...

“Oh god dammit!” You growled at her, “You’re going to be alright!”

You snapped your head around when your brother called your name, screaming for him as the Stand crumpled in a heap on the dirty street.

“You FUCKHEAD!” You whined, tackling Formaggio.

“Stupida!” He screamed back at you, “What the fuck are you doing here huh?! You trying to get yourself killed?! You could have been somebody’s bitch if I hadn’t been walking this way! You fucking retarded?! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Stupida! STUPIDA!”

You both began slapping and punching at one another, your brother choking up as he demanded answers. You were so stupid... he could have lost you forever... you could have been hurt... he would have never... ever... EVER forgiven himself...

A sniffle breaks up the tearful reunion. He’d forgotten about the Stand that had protected you, and now that he was able to focus and get a better look, he noticed she seemed oddly familiar to him. Rather small, looked like a porcelain doll with long bangs covering the top of her face, only leaving her plump lips exposed as she bit them. She wrung her hands, making a clacking noise as her long two toned hair shook back and forth.

“What the fuck...” he muttered under his breath.

“I don’t know where she came from or who she is...” you insisted, “But she keeps following me and she won’t leave me alone... can ghosts interact with people?? She... she’s been helping me find you.”

“Uuuughuuu... ughhwaa...”

Her voice was strangely garbled, like she was being drowned under water. Now that he got a good look at you, he noticed your eyes didn’t mirror his own anymore. The pupils were enlarging, beginning to take over the iris and sclera as the Stand kept wringing her hands.

“Stop it Cry Baby!” You cried. “You’re alright! They didn’t even hit you, I’m the one that got punched!”

You rubbed an angry spot on your cheek, making yourself and the Stand, Cry Baby, flinch. She hiccuped, saliva running down her lips as your eyes began to water.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” You warned.

“Uuuughwaaah... Waaah... WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!”

Her howling before was nothing compared to this, and evidently she had complete control over your emotions as well. You started in on the water works like Formaggio had never seen before, hiccuping and wailing as though you were an infant. He couldn’t do much to help... it was all too much... it was hard feeling so helpless...

“WAAAAAAAAAUGH!!! AAAAAAAUGH!! Mmmm.... Mwuuuugh??”

Cry Baby stopped just as suddenly as she started. It had to have been instinct... There was no other way... no other explanation for Little Feet to be rocking the Stand in his arms, nuzzling Cry Baby as her screaming began to die down, your tears drying up with hers as she stuck a thumb in her mouth, whimpering and letting herself be rocked gently back and fourth, back and fourth.

There was no place for a teenage girl in Passione, but maybe... Formaggio thought, just maybe, there might be room for a Stand User with an ability such as this.

[ceruleanchillin]

Somersault (Kirishima x Reader)

Kirishima Eijiro x F!Reader

Part of my MHA AU established previously.

Synopsis: Glimpses into you and Kiri’s relationship.

Warnings: Implied drug use, Implied smut

A/N:  I don’t really do songfics, but I will tell you Somersault by Zero 7 inspired this chapter. Recommend listening to it, cuz it gives Kiri feels.

 Does anyone else think of Kiri when they talk to jock villagers on Animal Crossing?

|  Give Love To Me |

“I thought we talked about this hmm?” Kirishima gently dabbed at your nose, eyes trained to spot any more blood.

You focused on the taste of poison that congregated at the back of your throat, the pipes that hadn’t stopped protesting since Kirishima had forced them to draw water, and the cracked window letting in chilly night air around the towel stuffed in it. Anything other than your boyfriend’s disappointed sighs and poorly hidden worry.

“Sorry Eiji….I..” you weren’t used to apologizing, or being ashamed, but Kirishima could bring emotions out of you, you didn’t know existed.

“You just made a mistake.” he kissed your forehead, and cradled you to his chest. “That’s why you get tomorrow. So you can try again.”

You sunk lower into the luke-warm water, eyes roaming up to the water stained ceiling. At the time, doing a line had sounded like the only good idea you’d ever heard, and you’d indulged, going against the promise you’d made to your boyfriend. It got you through two sets and made the packed, dingy lounge so much prettier. So much glitter. So much laughter, and it was easier to give real smiles. Why had that seemed like enough in value to disappoint Kiri?

“Hey,” he gently tapped your collarbone. “You ok? You with me?”

“Yeah.” You said hoarsely. “I won’t do it again Eiji...I won’t.” You grasped the arm slung around your torso, dragging your thumbs across the skin as fast as the water and your come down would allow.

“I know you won’t. Not my best girl.” He kissed the back of your head for a long moment, and brought you closer to his chest, caging you in his arms.

And you wondered where he got that bottomless trust from. Why was he so good, and where had he learned to be? He lived in the same streets you did, how did you catch the eye of a saint? Your eyes burned with unshed tears. How could you ever hope to be the woman he deserved?

Kirishima shushed you, rocking you gently. “You wanna tell me who gave it to you?”

Somewhere in the fog of your thoughts, you knew no matter how gently Kiri was asking, it wasn’t simply out of curiosity. “Noooo Eiji.” you slurred. “Don’t worry about it.”

He laughed. “Ok, ok.”

He hid his burning questions behind one of his lopsided grins when you turned to look back at him, trying to see if he meant it. He pressed a purposely sloppy kiss to your forehead until you giggled and squirmed to turn back around. Only then did he let his grin drop.

| The Sticks and Stones |

You were achy, you were chilly, and your stomach kept threatening to make you vomit if you didn’t keep focused on not doing so. You were ready to consider it penance for breaking your promise to your boyfriend, but he’d said “no way!” and saddled you with your favorite warm drink. All-in-all, it wasn’t the best day to be a mover, even if that was the only price for four weeks free crashing.

“So you’re just going to sit there?” Robbie, a friend of Kirishima’s and fellow freelance bouncer, stood in front of you.

You gave him a look that said you thought he was worth less than the effort it took to do so, before pushing your shades up, and severing eye contact.

“Look Primadonna, you’re crashing with us. The least you could do is pitch in.”

You crossed your legs and continued to nurse your latte. Robbie didn’t know it, but the bigger fit he threw, the less likely you’d be to help. And you weren’t planning on it in the first place.

Robbie growled in frustration, and kicked the trunk you were sitting on.

“Hey,” Kirishima grabbed his shoulder and pulled him away, wearing his signature grin, though it was strained. “Lot of stuff still in the truck, let’s finish up.”

“That’s just what I was telling HRH over here.” Robbie jammed his thumb in your direction.

“Don’t worry about her.” Kirishima gave him another grin, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m doing the bulk of the work anyways. I’m working for both of us.”

Robbie threw his hands up in frustration and walked over to the moving truck. His girlfriend had been glaring at you, wanting you to wilt under her stare. You lowered your shades, made eye contact, and maintained it while you lit a cigarette.

“Hey, come on.” Kirishima kneeled in front of you. “We gotta be here for a while. Try to get along.”

You exhaled a white cloud into the cold air, aiming it at Robbie’s girlfriend who was in the process of whining about how “trash” you were.

“I like it when it’s just us Kiri.”

“I know.” he sighed, palms rubbing your chilled kneecaps attempting to bring them warmth. “But this is where we’re at for a while. Remember I told you Bakugo, Midoriya, and I are working on a place-”

“They hate me,” you cut him off, pushing your shades back up. “Especially their girlfriends.”

“They don’t hate you baby,” Kirishima nuzzled your cheek, using that tone he did when he thought you might be hurt. “They just don’t really know you that well.”

Kirishima gave you a grin, this one real, in an attempt to reassure you. He was beautiful, always using his energy to make sure you were secure. It made you feel selfish and ungrateful, and something ugly roared to life within you. It made you want to say something, someone’s name, you knew would hurt him.

“If you would’ve sold what I had left over we’d be better off, but you’re so fucking opposed and moral when it suits you. Pfft.” you took a long drag. “Take care of me my ass. I should’ve gone to Dabi or Hawks.”

Kirishima looked like a kicked puppy, and your entire being clenched in response. That ugly thing inside had gone dormant and left you in the grip of guilt and self-resentment.

You stubbed out your cigarette, and carelessly placed your latte aside. “Oh Kiri,” you gripped his cheeks. “I can be such a bitch...I didn’t mean any of it, I’m sorry.”

He didn’t say anything, and that twisted your insides more. Your desperation made you babble almost uncontrollably.

With shaky hands you shoved your shades onto your head, and pressed your lips to his. “I’m sorry. You’re doing great Kiri, you’re doing great for me. I need you to believe me..don’t listen to me when I’m..”

“I know that’s not really you (Y/N),” he kissed both of your knees, making you go quiet. “Not the real you. She’s still a work in progress, but she’s beautiful.”

You bit your lip hard to fight spouting another word stream. More apologies danced with words of self-criticism on your tongue, begging to be spoken. You wanted him to call you out. You wanted him to find something ugly in himself and take revenge. He would never though. That wasn’t your Kiri, and that revelation only made your hands ache to pull your shades back over your eyes.

“She’s a coffee addict, she takes her showers cold, and she always eats off my plate, even when hers is right there.”

A small smile surfaced at his words, but you could still feel anxiety and regret twisting your insides.

As always, Kiri was in tune with you, and took your hands. “But I love her, and I don’t let anyone call her a bitch. Not even herself.”

| The Unknown and Home |

Kirishima liked bouncing well enough. He’d always been able to take a punch, he was great in a fight, and he liked defending people. It didn’t pay the best in the world, and he saw ugly parts of the city he wished he hadn’t, but he liked it.

Then he met you, and he loved it. The nights where the two of you worked the same club or lounge were his favorite. He often got chewed out by his bosses for being distracted, but that was ok. Kirishima thought you had to be blind or deaf not to be when you took the stage.

Soft songs where you skillfully played your voice up to crack at certain parts, fast songs where Kirishima would have to continuously adjust himself because of your hip movements. He loved it all when it came to your singing.

His enthralled expression slowly changed to one of rage. You were skillfully dodging the hands of an admirer in the crowd, while continuing your song, and the roll of your hips. He wasn’t the only one to appreciate your musical talent and the person it came from. Some were more enthusiastic in their appreciation than others, and that’s when Kirishima took on a vastly different character.

You wore a shimmery gold slip dress like it was made for you, and not stolen from a store across town. Yes, he would admit, under the changing lights you looked ethereal. The problem was, like a porchlight, you were attracting pests, and he couldn’t have that.

The greasy hand that had been reaching for you hung at an awkward angle only seconds later. Kirishima only faintly heard the crunch and your distressed “Eiji!” as he assumed a fighting stance. He’d known creepy patrons to be able to fight through almost anything.

Somehow, the creep had friends, and they were loyal. He was in too deep by that point, and treated them all like they were their friend.

---

Two bouncers, three barflys, a bartender, and an angry interrupted singer swinging the mic stand made quite the mess. The kind of mess that gets the singer and her boyfriend fired without pay and banned from the establishment.

You huffed your exasperation as you accepted half of his adrenaline-drained weight on the walk home. You could feel how proud of himself Kirishima was, and it made you feel like starting another fight.

“That was so manly the way you decked that guy with the bottom of the mic stand babe.” he murmured.

You could hear Kiri falling in love with you all over again, and as endearing as you found it, you were missing a shoe and a job now.

“I swear only you could eat that many hits and stay up to deal them back. You must be made of rock or some shit.” you huffed again, and tightened your hold around his waist.

“Not quite.” he chuckled and it was then you noticed him grasping his side. What you thought had possibly been bruised ribs could be worse.

“Oh shit,” you stopped abruptly, catching more of his weight at the sudden stop, and almost falling. “Did you get stabbed?!”

“Nooo.” he waved you off, and sighed painfully at the action. “Just scratched, deeply.”

You hobbled in uneven height around him, mind racing to think of a street doctor that owed you a favor in case he was lying. Fortunately he wasn’t.

“I’ll be ok. I heal pretty great, remember?” he grinned a proud, boyish grin, and you felt like you might be falling in love with him all over again too. But you were still pissed.

“You better. I might feel like beating your ass too.” You let him lean into you again as you began your awkward walk back to a borrowed home.

“I’d let you.” he chirped, laying his head on your own.

---

Patching Kiri up always seemed so useless by the time you got around to it. He stopped feeling pain faster than anyone you’d ever seen, high or sober. By morning his bruises would be a memory he’d barely remember. The only thing to keep an eye on was the cut, which you would, even if it wouldn’t be obvious to anyone but Kiri. He brought out something nurturing in you that was so powerful and foreign, it frightened you, but you were powerless against it.

Kirishima had fought you the whole time, wanting to focus on your minor nicks and scrapes, but you won out like always. You wanted to be homebase to him for a change, whether he felt he deserved that or not.

He was too tired to efficiently put up a fight, and by the time you were done, he’d crashed heavily right there in the corner of the couch.

“I wanted to cuss at you some more.” you murmured mirthfully, brushing drooping red strands from his forehead.

Checking him once more, and realizing you’d done about as well as you could, you fell onto the other side of the couch. Kiri would find his way to you eventually after you both found sleep. For the moment you were going to try to find a comfortable spot on the lumpy nightmare couch, and mourn your lost income.

You spent the better part of thirty minutes trying to assure yourself the opposite of what you knew to be the truth. You were temporarily burned on the nightclub circuit for that evening’s antics. Several hushed phone calls were made, each ending when your pride forced it. You wouldn’t beg when that had never gotten you anywhere before.

Your higher mind cursed you now that you’d be relying primarily on Kiri’s other job for income. It didn’t matter how many times Kirishima said you could rely on him, you hadn’t raised yourself that way, and you couldn’t afford to slack.

No one would call Bakugou divine, except maybe his airhead girlfriend, but he turned out to be the answer to your prayers that evening. He arrived with a pound to the door that you swore sounded like an explosion, his signature knock, and you quickly tried to mitigate any chance of him waking Kirishima.

You slid across yellowed linoleum on socked feet, and cracked the door.

“Come back tomorrow, he’s sleeping and you’re not waking him up.”

You caught his brow twitching in irritation at being told what to do. “Where do you think I’m gonna store this shit?”

He shook a worn duffle bag full of what you knew to be stolen goods.

“I don’t car-”

“Stop being a bitch and get out of the way.” he shoved the door, and you had no hope of stopping him from coming in, but you still grasped his bicep defiantly.

“Don’t.Wake.Him.” you dug your nails into hard muscle and narrowed your eyes.

“He’s gotta move quickly on some of this. Kirishima may have told you the sun rises out of your ass, but it doesn’t, and the rest of us have to survive too.” he stalked over to your sleeping boyfriend, fully prepared to punch him awake.

“Wait don’t!” you barely contained your voice to a loud whisper. “He’s tired, leave him alone.”

He growled low in his throat. “I already told yo-”

“I’ll do it.”

“What?” he snorted, but his face was blank. “You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re liable to get us all burned or worse, go to that shitty patchwork quilt fuck you used to run with.”

“I’ve been on the streets long enough jackass, and I’ve seen Kiri do it a million times. I know what’s worth what and who wants it.” you bristled at him throwing your past connections back in your face. “And not that it’s any of your business, but I don’t deal with him anymore.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, not interested, and you regretted even answering that. He studied you for a moment, and the flexing of his hand let you know he was mulling it over.

You decided not to wait, grabbing the bag and beginning to drag it into the kitchen. As expected, Bakugo rushed you for his ill-gotten goods.

You jutted your chin up at him. “I can do it. Just let him rest, it’s been a long night.”

He glared at you, judging you in a way that no longer made you want to punch him, before speaking. “Fine, but we’re staying to make sure you don’t fuck it up.”

“We’re?” your face crumpled in confusion, then realized he meant his girlfriend and grimaced. ‘For Kiri.’ you thought.

“Whatever.”

---

On any other day Bakugou would loudly and proudly admit he couldn’t stand you. You were convinced he and the gang hated you, that they thought you were cold and you were mostly correct. They loved Kirisihima and he’d made it clear you two were a package deal. He could remember the one and only time Kirishima got violent with him, and it was because he’d called you several nasty names in one fell swoop when he’d been drinking. He remembered laying in his car that night wondering what the fuck about you had his best friend so gone.

That night he thought he’d finally gotten a glimpse. Beaten up, and clearly tired yourself, you were forcing yourself to carefully build an inventory out of the stolen goods he and Midoriya had acquired the previous three nights. You told him what happened at the lounge, and he knew you probably wanted to crash right next to Kirishima, but you wouldn’t. You wanted to take care of him. Watching you squinting your tired eyes in the dim light of that shitty closet kitchen, he decided his friend may not be such a dumbass after all.

| Somersault In Sand With Me |

“Eiji…no, I’m still sore.” you murmured sleepily, curling into a ball under the thin quilt.

Kirishima poked your side again, muffling a laugh. “That’s not what I want babe. Well..yeah I always want that-”

“I know.” you gently kicked back at him, hiding a tiny grin in your pillow.

“I want you to come somewhere with me, it’s important.”

He sounded so uncharacteristically serious, that you allowed yourself to be fully pulled from sleep. You sat up, reaching for your phone charging on top of your bag by the couch.

Exactly 3 a.m.

“Eijiro I swear to god…”

“It’s important, fence’s honor. Now get your cute ass out of bed.” he tackled you in a warm embrace, spread kisses across your cheeks, and released you to get up from the couch bed.

You dropped your phone back into your bag with a groan. It was amazing how out of character this man could make you.

Kirishima helped you get dressed, smirking every time he noticed your slight limp. For every smirk you bit him, and he kissed you. It went against every independent bone in your body, but Kiri dressing you felt like heaven. His soft kisses on your thighs when he helped you slide into your leggings, the soft coos and admissions of love as he slipped you into one of his sweatshirts, and the gentle cradling of your feet as he slipped your feet into your shoes. You couldn’t even be grumpy, not when your personal sunbeam was looking at you like he received his life from you.

Kirishima led you out of the apartment, and before you knew it, he’d scooped you onto his back, threatening to drop you if you didn’t hold on. He took off at full speed with your surprised blend of laughter and shouts behind him.

You barely had any time to work out where he might be taking you that wasn’t planned at that hour before he arrived at the destination. An elementary school playground.

He stooped, allowing you to slide off his back, which you did with confusion. “What’s here Eiji?”

“Everything!” he chirped like it was so simple to see.

You blinked up at him trying to gauge whether he had the signs of having something in his system.

“Come on, we would’ve killed for this as kids. We get the whole place to ourselves, what do you wanna do first?”

“Crack your head open and examine the insides.” you scowled. “I was sleeping, and you want to do what exactly?”

“You’re so adorable when you’re cranky, you’re adorable anytime bu-”

“Kiri…” you narrowed your eyes, contemplating following through on your threat.

Kirishima’s face went blank, but his expression soon returned as a wide grin. “Oh I get it babe, that’s your pride talking. If you’re too afraid of looking uncool….”

“Pfft!” you shot him an incredulous look. “Nice try. Here’s where I try to prove you wrong, thus falling into the trap right?”

“No, my woman’s much too smart for that.” his grin curled into a smirk. “Here’s where I snatch your precious beret and make you chase me for it.”

Before you could register what he said, he followed through and yanked the hat from your head. He took off across the grass laughing almost manically with genuine joy. He was so adorable, it almost made you forget how long you saved for that beret. Almost.

You launched after him, shouting vulgar threats the whole way.

“Come on babe, we do kinkier stuff than that all time, really make me feel it!” he laughed, taking the steps to the pirate ship playhouse two at a time.

“Well, remember it fondly, because that’s over now hammerhead!” you leapt at him only to have him dodge you.

“Then what do I have to live for?” his face contorted into a mock pout. “I should just walk the plank now.”

Eiji doged another lunge from you and jumped from the toy plank that barely hung above the ground. You landed after him shortly and continued to chase him while he waxed poetic about his life being over if he could ‘never take you again’. Between laughter at his silly proclamations and failed lunge attempts, your lungs were on fire. That didn’t stop you from giving the chase your all. Around the merry-go-round, an almost win in the sandbox, an attempted cut off under the jungle gym. You eventually thought of a way to end it by fighting dirty.

Eijiro was headed for the animal-shaped spring riders, and right as he got close you shouted. “Time out Eiji my shirt tore off!”

“Wha-” he looked back at the right time to hit a pink seal and flip over it, landing on his back.

You jogged over, smirking at your win, no matter how ill-gotten.

“Not manly babe,” he groaned, sitting up to rub his back. “Not at all.”

“I caught you!” you laughed, straddling his waist to prevent any escape attempts.

“You did.” he said softly, gazing at you with a look that took your breath away.

It said everything he couldn’t say. Not because he was afraid to, never Eijiro, but because he couldn't always find the words to. That he couldn’t believe he found you, and would die if he lost you. That he was so yours, he felt like he always had been, even before he knew life. That you were his world and you were more than enough for him. You were everything to him.

“Always catch me...yeah?” he placed the beret on your head gently, before he placed a hand to your cheek.

“Always.” you got out around the lump in your throat. Instinct made you hold back your tears, Eijiro’s love made them fall.

-----

End Note:

If you want to let me know what you think should happen in the Midoriya chapter, my inbox is open (with anon on). The established AU is (here).

Dabi is next.

[margoshansons]

Desperate Measures: 12/?

Masterlist: Part Twelve

Summary: Bellamy and Y/N are at odds once again, except this time, a familiar foe decides to use this against them.

Warnings: violence, swearing, angst, hanging 

She spent her time splitting the gunpowder between bullets. Just because Jasper knew how to make more didn't mean they could waste the little bit they already had.

"You got any more hydrazine?" Raven asked, pouring through the pile of small parts.

Y/N shrugged, "I'm not sure, why?" She had forgiven Raven much easier than she had Bellamy. She had to work with Raven, she had to survive with Raven, she could avoid Bellamy by staying in the dropship.

"I need some to make more of the mines," Raven explained, sending a wary look her way, "We can cover the south foxhole but that's really about it until Jasper can make more gunpowder"

"Not a problem!" The chemist called from the second floor.

Y/N smiled for the first time in a few days.

"Bellamy wants us to finish the rest of the field in the morning." Raven continued, watching Y/N tense up at the sound of his name, throwing herself further into the work she had been doing.

"I thought we were going after Finn, Clarke, and Monty in the morning." She swallowed, confusion fluttering through her as she kept her eyes trained on the bullets.

Raven rolled her eyes, "Apparently not."

Y/N scoffed, grasping the fresh case of bullets and heading out to go deliver them to the one person she hoped to avoid. A shot rang out, starting the camp and causing her to flinch from the loud bang.

"Hey!" Bellamy roared, grasping Sterling by the collar, "What the hell's the matter with you? That bullet was one less dead grounder!"

Y/N watched as Sterling stuttered out an apology while Octavia gently approached the angry leader. "Bell, you're scaring people." He met her eyes and settled down.

"They should be scared!" He yelled turning toward the camp, "The grounders are coming and we need everything we can get. This camp is the only thing keeping us alive!"

"We get it." Y/N snapped, a biting tone lacing her voice, "But we need rest too."

Bellamy whirled on her, stalking closer. "Do you think the grounders care about whether or not we're rested?"

"No!" Y/N shot back, hating that she was agreeing with him, "But we can't win a war if we're exhausted."

She pushed past him and grasped Sterling around the shoulders, "Come on," she whispered to the delinquent, "Let's get you back to the tent." She smacked the new case of bullets into Bellamy's chest as they passed, "More bullets for your warzone, sir." The mocking tone dripped from her mouth as he clenched his jaw, watching her set Sterling down on a rock before heading back inside the dropship.

"Hey Jasper" She called up as she climbed to the second floor, "How's that gunpowder coming?"

The boy in the goggles turned around, a wide smile on his face. "Almost done, a few more trips to the latrine and we'll have another bucket on our hands."

Y/N sent him a small smile at the news, wiping the sweat from her brow before moving closer, practically feeling the irritation radiating off of him. "We'll find them" She promised, knowing he was as worried about their three friends as she was.

"Bellamy's an ass for not going after them."

A chuckle escaped her, placing her hand on Jasper's shoulders and pulling him tight, "Monty, Clarke, and Finn are survivors. I have no doubt that wherever they are, they're kicking ass."

Now it was his turn to let out a laugh before she descended the ladder, eager to get back to work. She froze at the bottom as she locked eyes with Murphy.

"I uh, he uh--" The killer stammered. She shifted her gaze to the side as Jasper jumped down beside her, eyes widening in horror as she caught a glimpse of Myles' still body. He was dead. Murphy had killed him.

"Please," He pleaded to Jasper, ignoring Y/N's presence, "He tried to kill me."

Her hand reached the back of her shirt, grasping the knife tucked into her waistband. Murphy eyed the rifle on the floor, rushing toward it and pointing the barrel at the two of them. Her hand came free and she joined jasper in holding her hands up in surrender.

She was going to die.

She was going to die and there was nothing she could do about it.

"Okay" Jasper tried to breathe evenly, "It's okay, it's cool."

"No it's not" Murphy croaked, "You know what'll happen if you tell Bellamy"

A crackle came from her pocket, the radio operational as his voice rang through the dropship.

"Tell Bellamy what?"

A tense silence fell over the three of them, Murphy's fearful eyes darting between the two of them as she slowly reached in her back pocket to pull out the walkie.

"Murphy's got a gun he killed Myles--" She replied back quickly, a gunshot cutting her off as her leg exploded in pain, crumbling to the ground as the walkie clattered to the ground.

***

Bellamy froze as Y/N's voice cut off with the sound of gunshots ringing from the dropship. His blood turned to ice.

"Y/N?" He asked desperately, gripping the radio tighter, "Y/N are you okay?"

The radio clicked on again and Murphy's voice sent his stomach clenching. "Your girlfriend's fine, she won't be however if you don't get me what I want."

Fuck. He really screwed up this time. 

"Come on Murphy, let them go. You don't want to hurt them, you wanna hurt me." He spoke through the radio, hoping it was enough to get both of them free and Y/N some help if she had been shot.

"So what do you say?" Bellamy spoke through once again, his heart pounding against his ribs, "Trade them for me."

***

She fumed as Murphy tied the spare bit of bandage around her thigh, stemming the bleeding before wrapping her arms behind her and twisting the red seatbelt around them. "Looks like the king is ready to join us."

He pushed her against the wall, "You didn’t think I was actually going to let you go did you?" He sneered, grabbing Jasper by the collar and pointing the gun at the younger kid, the dropship door opening.

"Ten seconds or I put one in Jasper's leg."

Y/N got flashbacks to the cliff, where he held the same ultimatum in order to give up Charlotte. As much as Bellamy was annoying her right now, she didn't want to see him tortured, or worse killed. Especially at the hands of Murphy.

"All right!" Bellamy yelled, "I'm here."

The curtain parted as Murphy threw Jasper down the ramp and Bellamy traded himself. She watched helplessly as the dropship door closed, his eyes landing on her bound body as rage flashed within them.

"I said both of them" Bellamy shot at Murphy, anger rushing to his face and turning it red.

"I didn't." Murphy spat, pointing his gun at the pair of them. He pushed Bellamy to the center of the room before throwing a handful of old seatbelts on the ground before him, an expectant look on his face. "Tie them together"

Y/N watched, her blood running cold as Bellamy followed Murphy's instructions to the letter, horror filling her chest as she recognized the shape Murphy was having him tie together.

"Murphy please" Y/N spoke up, "Don't do this." She hated how she sounded. She hated begging for mercy. She hated him. Her stomach twisted as anger as the noose began to take shape, Murphy's sneer never leaving his face.

"Toss it over" Murphy ordered, disregarding Y/N's plea as he focused his attention on Bellamy, who was dutifully continuing his instructions. Unable to take it anymore, she lifted her shirt up once again, reaching for her knife in order to cut her bonds. Her hand grasped the silver blade, flipping it in her hands as she began to slowly saw away at the seatbelt keeping her bound.

"Get on the crate" Murphy continued ordering, Bellamy sending a fearful look at the now hanging noose.

She ignored the tears gathering at the edge of her eyes as she watched Bellamy comply, resigned to his situation. She couldn't lose him too. He was an ass, and he had hurt her in ways that she hadn't felt in a long time. But he had also broken her walls down, he had given her strength when she had none. He was the one person she needed alive.

"Murphy listen to me, if you stop this, we'll let you go. I promise. You can walk out of here with guns and bullets and we'll forget all about this. Just let him live." Her breath grew heavier with each word, "Please."

He snickered turning back to Bellamy, "Throw it around your neck."

"What do you want me to say, Murphy?" Bellamy spoke instead, stalling for time, "Do you want me to apologize?"

Murphy chuckled darkly again, "I want you to feel what I felt, and then I want you to die."

She continued to saw at the belt around her wrists, locking eyes with Bellamy as he refused to follow that order, his eyes turning glassy with panic as he stared past Murphy to keep his gaze on her own fearful one.

She felt the cool barrel of the rifle against her head as Murphy moved closer, his jaw clenching. "Put it over your head, or I put one through her head."

Fear seared through her, spreading like the virus that Murphy had brought to camp in the first place. She watched his gaze flicker toward her before standing straight, pulling the makeshift noose over his head.

The rifle left her head as he moved over to Bellamy, victory in Murphy's eyes as he pulled at the rope, leaving Bellamy barely able to stand on his toes.

"Stop!" The sound involuntarily left her mouth at the sight, causing both Murphy and Bellamy to look at Y/N, a tear dripping from the corner of her eye. "Please" Her voice broke, her plea falling on deaf ears as a smirk dangled from Murphy's lips.

"Now this is a development I can get behind." He mocked, leaving Bellamy alone while he leaned forward, eyes scanning her features. "Tell me, did the king ever tell you how he really felt?"

She stayed silent.

"I'll take that a no" Murphy swiped at his nose again, "Doesn't surprise me, he's never been the best at expressing himself has he?" He sauntered over to Bellamy once again, pulling on the rope. "But then again neither have you." He pointed the rifle at her until she was staring down the barrel, fear wracking her chest. "The thought that you just might have feelings for this asshole, well…that was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Not to mention the secrets you've been keeping from him as well."

Her eyes widened as she shook her head trembling under his victorious gaze, a wicked smile showing his teeth when he turned to Bellamy.

"Your girlfriend's an alien Bellamy" He spoke plainly, "Or at least, with blood like hers she's not like us. In fact, a little birdie told me that's the reason she's so tight with the grounders. Oh well, you fell in love with her anyway."

She froze at that news, her gaze flickering toward Bellamy's. He couldn't be…It wasn't possible for him to love her right?

Bellamy’s gaze refused to meet hers, clenching his jaw as his guard went back up, not wanting to give Murphy any satisfaction for uncovering his deep secret. "Shut the hell up."

Murphy smirked again, "And so the truth comes out." He turned to Y/N, relishing in his victory, "And now it's your turn sparky."

Her breathing grew shallower, her hands moving faster against the seatbelt as she stared down Murphy, panic spreading through her chest.

"Murphy please" She tried again, knowing it wouldn't work.

He scrunched his nose at the response, "Not the answer I was looking for." He pulled the rope tighter, causing Bellamy to sputter in pain. She was almost free. Just a few more seconds and she'd be able to take him. Except Bellamy didn’t have a few more seconds. At any moment Murphy could kick the crate from underneath him and his face would turn blue and purple as the life was slowly choked out of him. 

"Alright stop!" She called, slow tears marching down her face as she stared down the two men before her. "I do." She admitted, unable to say those three words.

"You what?" Murphy asked again, gesturing to his ear.

"I have feelings for him,"

Shock rang through Bellamy's body at the admission, his gaze staring at the woman he had risked his life to save.

"And what are those feelings?" Murphy taunted again, pulling the rope tighter, "Love?" 

She remained silent, a tear burning against her mouth, unable to look Bellamy in the eye at the admission. Her stomach flipped and flopped, scolding her for being so hesitant.

"You've had your fun with her." Bellamy stepped up, vocal cords tight, wanting to save this conversation for later. "I'm the one you want to hurt."

"You're right" Murphy snickered, shrugging callously, "It’s too bad I have to kill her anyway."

A yelp came from underneath the dropship. Murphy shot several rounds off into the floor of the dropship. Her restraints were almost gone, just one more--

Her knife clanged against the ground.

Murphy shot a murderous look her way before pointing the gun at her once again. Bellamy struggled against the noose, using what little energy he had left to launch a kick in Murphy's direction. His retaliation was met with the sound of the crate collapsing to the ground, the noose tightening as Bellamy began to choke.

"No!" Using what little strength she had left,  she pulled at the bonds, the frayed belt coming apart. She grasped her blade, lunging at Murphy, her leg burning in pain as she moved forward, only to be thrown back to the ground by the butt of the rifle.

The sound of the dropship opening as Octavia and Jasper rushed in, chasing Murphy up to the second floor, the hatch closing as Jasper struggled against it. Y/N drew herself upward, her leg screaming in unbearable pain as she limped forward to draw Bellamy down from the makeshift gallows.

"Hey," she whispered, pulling him into her arms, "I'm right here, You're okay, you're okay." His heart was beating a mile a minute, but to her, it was the sweetest sound in the entire world.

"Y/N…" He croaked, voice hoarse.

She shushed him, the two melting into each other as his hands began to trace every bit of her exposed skin, sending shivers spiraling down her back, the hair on her neck standing up as her breath hitched. His hands moved up to cradle her face, his thumb brushing against her cheeks while her own hand reached around his wrist, squeezing it lightly.

"You're okay" He whispered, a wide smile on his face as his eyes lit up. The space between them grew smaller.

The air growing thinner.

Breathing getting heavier.

Until--

"Murphy!" Jasper called from above them, cutting off their moment as the pair stared above them, a resounding boom telling them everything they needed to know.

She sat on the first floor, Octavia peeling the bandage off to take a look at the bullet Murphy had put in her thigh. Her attention was pulled away by the sound of footsteps coming down the ladder, Bellamy's curls sending a wave of relief rushing through her veins.

"Get your stuff ready," He ordered Octavia, "We’re headed out to find Clarke, Finn, and Monty."

"I'm coming with you" Y/N tried to push herself up off the bench until Bellamy stopped her.

He knelt down beside her, his hand interlocking with hers, "I admire your persistence, but you need rest. You need to stay here, take care of that leg."

She nodded reluctantly, gaze lingering for a while until she spoke, "I'm glad you're okay."

Love was not weakness, she told herself. Love was never weakness.

"You too." He whispered back, pushing a piece of hair that had come loose behind her ear. The radio crackled, ruining their moment once more.

"All gunners we got movement on the south wall."

Miller, she realized. The two stood up, her limp carrying her only so far as she saw the gate open, wanting to cry tears of relief as the familiar figure ran into camp.

"Clarke!" She called, sprinting forward, ignoring the screaming pain in her thigh. She wrapped her arms around her friend, the momentum throwing both of them around. She felt the tension melt away from Clarke's shoulders as the two stayed in each other's arms for a while.

When the broke apart, her bright blue eyes immediately darted to the injury in her leg.

"What happened to you?"

"Murphy, you?"

"Grounders" She growled.

Finn's voice rang out in the camp, "Everyone pack your things, we're leaving now!"

The delinquents began to crowd, curious as to what Finn was talking about exactly. She was too.

"What are you talking about?" Bellamy asked beside Y/N, his hand reaching out to stabilize her.

Finn stared him down. "Grounders. Hundreds of them, warriors trained since birth. We don't stand a chance if we stay here."

"Where else would we go?" Y/N asked, crossing her arms in confusion.

Clarke spoke up, "Lincoln told us about a tribe to the east. Near the ocean. They'll offer us sanctuary."

"You actually trust that grounder?" Bellamy moved forward, irritation spinning in his stomach, "This is our home now!" He yelled from the top of his lungs, the crowd growing silent, "We built this from nothing with our bare hands! Our dead are buried behind that wall in this ground! Our ground! The Grounders think they can take that away. They think that because we came from the sky, we don’t belong here. But they’ve yet to realize one very important fact: We are on the ground now, and that means we are Grounders!"

A cheer erupted from his speech, the campers emboldened to finally put an end to the threat that had been plaguing them from the very beginning.

"Bellamy's right!" Clarke piped up, "If we leave, we may not find a place as safe as this, but that doesn't change the fact that if we stay here, we will die tonight! So pack your things."

Bellamy shot a disgusted look at Clarke before flicking a pleading one at Y/N. She pondered the situation both leaders looking to her as well as the rest of the camp.

"How you get to the goal matters." She muttered underneath her breath, the seconds ticking by in her head.

"If we can avoid a fight we should" She spoke up, turning toward Bellamy, "If we can save lives, we should."

Clarke sent her a curt nod, the delinquents scattering to their tents to follow Clarke's orders. She met Bellamy's gaze before limping to her own tent, grasping her unpacked backpack before reaching for the guard jacket she meant to give back to Bellamy. She fingered the soft material in her hands before exiting the tent, approaching the other leader.

"Here" she pushed the material in front of him, "Thought you might want this back,"

The hardened look on his face disappeared when his eyes landed on her, a small smile tugging at his lips before he pushed it back on her. "Keep it," He told her, "It hangs off your shoulders nicely."

They stared around at the now-empty camp, the only remainder of civilization living within the flames of the firepit.

"Eighteen dead" Bellamy muttered, a regretful look on his face.

She squeezed his arm, "Eighty two alive" She reminded him, "We did good here Bell,"

He slightly nodded, pouring the water over the flames to extinguish any trace of them while Miller reached underneath Y/N's arm, helping her out of the camp as the delinquents traveled deep into the forest that seemed determined to kill them. Bellamy, Clarke, and Y/N bringing up the rear.

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One more installment to go and then we are done with season one! Let me know if you guys wanna see season 2!

DM Tag list closes after the finale of season 1. Permanent TL is always open.

[allmightyneed]

Villain!All Might (Smite)x reader. part 4/20

Link to part 1. Link to part 2. Link to part 3.

The luxury high rise apartment he takes you to is spectacular, but the manner in which he takes you is even more so. 

From the fourth storey landing of your building, he launches into the sky, having slung you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, turning a deaf ear to your protests. How undignified. At least he had propped your broken door back in place. You live in a safe enough area; hopefully nothing gets stolen. 

All of your worries and protests are swept away as you are subjected, in that awkward position, to an inhuman burst of speed. The G-force of it is completely unexpected. You’ve watched news reel of him leaping around like this and he never betrays if it affects him. 

You squeeze your eyes shut against the wind and the stomach-turning height. Just as vertigo threatens to overwhelm you, you feel a gentle yet solid thump. He’s landed and lets you down, setting you on your feet. He holds you by your shoulders a moment, making sure you won’t stumble. When he lets go of you, you pull your cardigan tighter and cross your arms. This balcony is very nicely furnished, and large— there’s a pool up here, and a fire pit— but it’s also cold being so high up. 

It’s slightly off putting to find out that he doesn’t reside in a dingy abandoned warehouse full of rats and contraband and fellow criminals. Good looking, powerful, wealthy— what possible reason could a person like that have to be the number one villain? To devote himself and his talents to sowing chaos? You regard him with renewed suspicion, which is at odds with the slow, steady trickle of desire he had tapped when he had coaxed the truth out of you earlier. But, no. The desire had come before that, even. You can pinpoint it to a month and a half ago in that alley, where he had turned into another person before your eyes.  

“Just to be clear, girl— you’ve come here willingly. You can leave now if you want. I won’t stop you or come looking for you again.”

He has become strangely impassive, so that you cannot really guess at what he wants. There is no emotion to read in his face; instead you must do as he tells you. Your imagination goes into overdrive; maybe he’ll bend you over any one of these fine pieces of furniture, kick your legs apart and slowly but forcefully penetrate you. You watch, dry-mouthed, as he shrugs out of his suit jacket and strides past you inside.  

You follow, hovering at the threshold.

“When you enter this apartment, you will not speak unless spoken to.” He tosses the jacket carelessly over the back of a chair and begins unbuttoning his shirt sleeves and rolling them up. Absurdly, your pulse quickens at bearing witness to this simple action. All Might in a state of undress, and what your prurient mind chooses to notice is that his forearms are so thick. “You will obey every order promptly and without question. That’s all you need to know for now. Do you consent to these terms?”

“Yes,” you say.

“Then come in.” He beckons you, having taken a seat on one of the elegant leather couches. You step through the door and slide it closed behind you. 

The apartment is richly furnished in a modern western style, all black and cream and wood. The floors are polished stone— granite or marble, you’d guess— and the corners of every rug and chair and table come to right angles. This is much too refined and tasteful for All Might, or so one would think. Can this place really be his? 

As you drop your purse, step out of your heels and pad across the floor in your stockings, a photograph on a table catches your eye. Smiling out of the frame are an elderly couple who look like they’re dressed for the opera.

You almost ask All Might if they’re his parents, but stop yourself just in time. It wouldn’t do to break one of the rules so quickly.

You come to stand in front of him, again pulling your cardigan closer and crossing your arms. Your heart beats wildly in your chest; you search his face for some indication of his intentions, or any emotion at all, but he is inscrutable. His control is absolute. 

“Come here.” He pats his thigh. “I’m going to spank you.”

“What?” It’s such a ridiculous notion you almost laugh in his face. 

His eyes flash at your flagrant disobedience. “You’re new to this, I grant you that, so you get one pass. That was it.”

You drop your head. “Sorry.” But he’s All Might— the symbol of discord. Why is he concerned with discipline?

“Empty apologies will not lessen the severity of the punishment. Place yourself across my knee, facedown. Do it quickly, girl.”

You hesitate a moment too long, so he does it for you, scooping you with one arm into his lap and pinning you there. You yelp in surprise. That arm is like a steel beam at the small of your back. With dispassionate efficiency, he hikes your wool skirt up over your hips, the material bunching at your waist. Your pantyhose underneath do little to alleviate the indignity of the situation, but it’s something. His hand caresses your bottom, large enough to hold you almost entirely; he chuckles and remarks that he likes that even his hand can’t manage that. [All Might likes a fat ass ok?] You squirm at the touch, uncertain as to whether you like this or not— or rather, whether you should like it. There is no ignoring the arousal pooling in your core, a direct result of his touches.

“This is in the way,” he says. Your pantyhose. He grips the thin material, getting purchase on it at your cleft-- “no, please--!” you cry-- and rends it.

You struggle against him to no avail so he brings one hand down upon your now-bare flesh, making you cry out. Unmoved by your pleas, he widens the tear. “Your constant arguing is becoming tedious.” He smacks your ass again, harder, right at the widest part. It hurts this time, really hurts. The stinging pain shoots straight to your aching core, and you gasp, squeezing your thighs together. 

“Th-that was too hard!”

He responds with another open-handed hit on the other cheek. “Slow to learn. I can work with that.”

“I… I thought…” 

He laughs darkly. “You thought I was going to fuck you, huh?” Yes. Please, yes. “No… I don't think you could handle it. I’m too big for you, little one.” If you didn’t know better by now, you’d mistake his jovial nature for leniency. He’s anything but. He is sharp and commanding and uncompromising.

He rains blows down upon your exposed bottom, alternating sides. He takes care not to hit the same spot twice in a row, and soon your backside burns, the nerves too sensitive but All Might does not relent, even though you are sobbing. Exactly why, you couldn’t say. From the pain, or the humiliation… or the shameful feelings he’s aroused in you. Your fear does not disarm him; from his lack of reaction, it seems your fragility does not particularly endear you to him. He merely expects submission as a matter of course. 

Except… you hear his slightly labored breathing and, when he shifts, you feel the unmistakable jut of his erection against your hip. He desires you. Still, in your desperate, selfish state, you barely register any need besides your own. You clutch your hands in fists, tears falling freely. The sense of time slips away, and you can only await the blows, and then you lose track of even that, existing only as a duality, between sensation and anticipation, and pain and pleasure. 

At last, the punishment ends. His hand comes to rest on your ass, stroking the inflamed skin as gently as a lover would. He nudges your thighs apart, deliberately avoiding the center you want so desperately for him to touch. 

“You’re wet, girl,” he remarks in that deep voice you know from TV. Such a familiar, menacing voice, though you had never imagined it saying the things he’s saying to you now. “I can smell you.”

You bury your face in your arms, suppressing the embarrassing sound that escapes your mouth. His fingers dance between your thighs, surprisingly nimble for being so large. Without thinking, you raise your hips to his touch. Fuck, why not? He can see you and smell you, he has access to every part of you, what could you possibly hold back? You’re splayed across All Might’s lap, raw and wet and needy from him spanking you and you want more. 

He dips down in between your legs, teasing the slickness between your labia. You whimper, only for him to withdraw, and trace the curve from your lower thigh, up your ass, down your back. The abused skin is overly sensitive; you can only imagine how red it must be. 

“Maybe I won’t let you come,” he says, his thick fingers finding and plucking at the nub of your clitoris and then deserting you. “I can smell your arousal. I can see it. Your cunt is soaked. It’s all over your thighs. Maybe I’ll send you home like this. Or— it’s the middle of the day. Shouldn’t you be at work?”

You barely manage a moan— please, please. He slaps your inner thigh. “I asked you a question.”

“Y-yes! I left early when I found your phone number. I missed chorei.”

“How unprofessional.” He makes a tsk. “What would your coworkers think if they saw you right now? What would they think if they saw you getting spanked? They’d see that you liked it, hmm?”

You choke out a defeated sound. 

“Tell me,” he says. “What would they say if they saw you, what would they call a girl who’s begging All Might to finger fuck her?”

The thought is mortifying. Your life would be over. You’d probably have to leave the country.

“I know what I’d call you.” His tone turns rather playful. “I’d call you a slut.” 

You want to deny it, but your body betrays you.

“Say it.” he presses, his fingers skillfully coaxing you to relinquish any remaining dignity. “You know what you are, girl. Say it.”

“A slut!” You wail, writhing to seek his touch. “I’m a slut!”

He rewards you with his thumb in your cunt and the heel of his palm against your clit; you rock against him wantonly. At last, at last… you hear the rumble of his voice, faintly, outside your cries. He purrs your name as you orgasm on his hand, pleasure and relief flooding you, drowning everything else. 

After a time he rights you, cradling you on his lap. You enjoy leaning against his chest, hardly daring to move for fear that you might end this bliss too soon, even though you still feel the hardness of his arousal against your ass, and it’s as big and intriguing as the rest of him. You find rest in his embrace, in the even rise and fall of his breathing. It puts you at ease a little too much, because the photo of the elderly couple catches your eye again and you ask about it.

“This isn’t really your apartment, is it?”

“...No.” 

“Who are they?”

He huffs angrily, like a bull. “Have you ever heard of the hero Beacon?”

As a matter of fact, you have. You remember most heroes and villains based on their dossier stats, which you repeat aloud. He’s a small-time up and coming hero, with a solid C-rank quirk called Shine, he’s had some success despite not really standing out in any one area—

“I killed him,” All Might interrupts you.

You draw back to look him in the face. He isn’t lying. You just want to see what someone looks like when admitting to murder. 

“They were his parents.”

“Were?”

“They financed every step of his career,” he snorts, twisting the word sarcastically. “Paid his way into U.A., paid for a prestigious internship spot, paid so he passed his licensing exam, paid to get him a work-study, paid for his placement at a top agency. The kid had no business being a hero.”

“The Aoyama attack,” you say quietly, suddenly remembering. “But— there was only one fatality. What about his parents?”

If All Might has a curious reaction to your good memory, he doesn’t show it. “They came after me. They found me.” He doesn’t have to say any more. 

You lay your head against his shoulder, feeling strangely little guilt about enjoying the opulent surroundings, and even less about snuggling All Might. He’s… well… practical. Refreshing. And his hard cock is still trapped against your bottom. You wiggle a little bit, prompting him to grunt. “Enough of that.”

You throw your arms around his neck—“don’t you want...?”— and he pries you off just as quickly, standing and dumping you off his lap.

“No. Don’t mistake this for anything more than the discipline you needed.” 

You give a pointed glance down at his crotch, where his obvious desire bulges in his trousers, and then you notice the wet spot you’d left. 

He notices too, but doesn’t comment on it. “Make yourself decent. I’ll call you a car.”

The dismissal stings. More than that, it’s a feeling you can’t quite describe. That night in the alley when he had accidentally shown you his true form, and then deserted you. It feels the same as that night. Bitter and grasping. It is worse to be sent away than paid the compliment of his attentions. 

You smooth your skirt down over your ruined pantyhose. Those are a lost cause. You’ll have to go back home again, and by the time you get there half the day will have gone by. Might as well not go back to work. Not like you’d be able to concentrate, anyway. Is this going to be the end of it? Will you ever get to see him again? You sneak a glance up at All Might; he catches you looking. 

“What?” He snaps. 

He certainly has a way of reducing you to a blushing, stuttering teenager. “Is this— uh, am I allowed to… can I call you?”

He laughs in your face, with little mirth. “No more lies, girl. If you want this again, send a damn text message and fucking admit it. And don’t wear panties. Next time you enter my presence, raise your skirt and show me your bare cunt so I know why you’ve come. Now go. Old man Arai is downstairs, he’ll drive you wherever you want.”

With great reluctance, you collect your purse and leave, riding the elevator down from the penthouse to the first floor. Mr. Arai is there in a black town car. Both here, and when he drops you off at your apartment building, he gets out and shuffles around to open the door for you and you accept gratefully. It’s only 11:30, you realize.

“Could you wait for five minutes?” You ask him. “Could you drive me back downtown?”

You are loathe to go back to work, especially with your thighs sticky, your backside burning, and your core pulsing, but if you confine yourself to your apartment for the rest of the day you’ll go crazy thinking about All Might. It had been a little less than three hours with him. Three hours and he had reduced you to a quivering mess. You freshen up as best you can, pitching your ruined pantyhose in the trash and wiping the smudged makeup off your face. By the time Mr. Arai delivers you at your office building, you’re already scheming about how soon would be too soon for that text. And you resolve to put Mr. Arai on your Christmas card list, if you ever get to see him again.

***

Link to part 5.

Tags:

@smokindoinksinthejungle @may-machin @brolyfangurl-istandwithvic @world-dominating-kitty

[im-a-goner-foryou]

70's pimp! Tony/ prostitute! Peter au for the lovely @seldom-seen-kid, hope you like it! ♡

"Fuck- yeah, just like that darling," thin, delicate fingers wind themselves into Peter's hair, pulling at his curls just sharply enough for him to feel the prickling pain and to draw a high whine from his throat. He pumps his fist hurriedly around the rock hard cock in his hand, making sure to twist his wrist on every upward stroke just how he knows the other man likes it; and sure enough this earns him a gravelly moan of "look so good down on your knees for me, god..."

Noting how Stephen's hips now stutter off the bed in erratic thrusts forward, Peter then leans closer to lay his head on the man's lap, fluttering his lashes a tad excessively and widening his eyes to play up the innocent look that never fails to completely unravel most of his clients, all the while never ceasing in his steady jerking movements of his hand. Stephen's startlingly light blue eyes pin hungrily on him as though to devour him whole; mewling softly, Peter begins to roll his own hips downwards to hump the floor like a puppy in heat, grinning inwardly at the low growl this earns him.

In a final act he allows his mouth to fall open ever so slightly and sticks his tongue out to whimper a needy little "ohhh, please Doctor," and just like that the fingers in his hair are tightening hard enough for tears to well up in his eyes; chest rumbling with a low snarl Stephen ruts his hips upward to rub his leaking cockhead all over Peter's cheek, smearing pre-come across his flushed skin until the kneeling boy widens his mouth further to allow the throbbing girth in. Bobbing his head jerkily and drooling all over Stephen's cock Peter then gurgles out wetly "give me your come Sir, please? I need it so bad, please Doctor I wanna feel your come fill me up--"

"Fuck, fuck!" Stephen grunts, hips snapping forward one final time before the cock inside Peter's mouth twitches, then spills hot and sticky fluid down his throat that he expertly swallows with a happy hum.

"Thank you, Doctor," Peter sighs syrup sweet, making a show of licking his glistening lips, running his tongue messily up the length of Stephen's softening cock like a child would lick at a lollipop. "You taste so good."

Cursing weakly at that, Stephen shakes his head and pants "Christ, you're going to be the death of me," before beckoning Peter up with a crook of his finger. Smiling shyly now, Peter rises obediently to his feet and allows the older man to kiss him, laving his tongue over the other's lips in kitten licks.

Stephen groans, deep and guttural in his chest.

"You're a treasure... wish I could bring you home with me," he sighs-- not for the first time, finally pulling away as though forcing himself to do so; he frowns as his his gaze falls to the shiny Rolex adorning his wrist, however. "Shit, it's already five minutes past, I need to go before Stark comes bursting through the door or something. Here--" pulling his leather wallet out of his slacks, the man deftly plucks a few hundred dollar notes and stuffs it into Peter's hand, along with an almost fond kiss to his brow. "Thank you for tonight darling, you were perfect as always."

Peter can't help but blush at that, pocketing the bills inside the pink satin panties Stephen had ordered him to wear for their session. "You flatter me too much, Doctor," he giggles bashfully, leaning forward to press his lips to the man's cheek.

"Anything for you, Pete. Go on now; I can show myself out, I know how Stark can get sometimes about tardiness." Stephen huffs, waving a hand at the door to gesture him out-- but not before swatting his ass one last time before he leaves, of course.

Still blushing slightly from Stephen's silky smooth words earlier, Peter bounds down the stairs to his quarters in the basement, passing a few others along the way; he waves at Harley in greeting, the other boy nestled up on the common couch beside and chatting up a much older man. Upon arriving at the door to his room, however, Peter quickly recognizes the burning scent of cigarette smoke hanging thick in the air-- which can only mean one thing... or person. Groaning inwardly, he steels himself in preparation of what will surely come next, before twisting the doorknob open and barging inside his room.

Not surprisingly, a low drawl of "you're late," is the very first thing that greets him. How typical. Wrinkling his nose at the now more intense smell of smoke inside, Peter's unable to keep the annoyed scowl off his face as he kicks off his red stiletto heels before striding over to the mirror hanging on the wall at the other side of the room-- determinedly fixing his gaze forward and away from the unmistakable figure sprawled lazily on his couch.

Of course, Stark wouldn't have any of that. "Hey, you deaf or something Parker?"

"Go away," Peter grumbles to his stubborn reflection in the mirror; he looks positively wrecked. Grabbing some makeup wipes he then goes about cleaning away the cherry-red stains smeared all over his lips and lower chin that is his lipstick-- Stephen had been specially rough tonight, seemed to enjoy messing him up more than usual. Peter couldn't exactly complain; the man had paid extra for it, after all. "Y'know, you're not even supposed to be in my room, Mr Stark."

Unfortunately, that only earns him an amused scoff in response. "That's funny-- I would have thought that I'd be allowed to do whatever I damn well wanted here, seeing as I'm the one running this place. Now I'm going to ask you again, why are you late?"

Feeling a rush of both annoyance and frustration swell up in him now and win out his insistence at not giving Stark any satisfaction, Peter can't resist whirling around to glare at the older man. "Oh I don't know, maybe it's 'cause Strange was too busy fucking me stupid for both of us to notice the time?" he says sarcastically-- though not without injecting a faux sweetness to his tone, because as much of an absolute dick Mr Stark can be, he's also his boss, and Peter can't exactly afford to lose this job.

It's not even a few moments after before he's already regretting his outburst; even in the dimness of his room Peter doesn't miss the way the older man's eyes darken at his retort, the twitching of a muscle at that sharp jaw. Faltering slightly, Peter pales but still stubbornly refuses to let his glare waver; at least, until after several heavy, tense beats later does he realise that he's standing barefoot and still scantily dressed in slips of lingerie that barely pass off as clothing.

And it seems as though this particular fact also doesn't escape Mr Stark, if the new glinting look in his hooded eyes is of any indication. If Peter were anyone else he would probably be overtaken with shame; as it is, he can't exactly be in this line of business and get uncomfortable whenever someone stares at his bare body. Yet something about the older man's fixated gaze makes him squirm a little, and he can't help but feel slightly self-conscious-- folding his arms across his chest to preserve whatever little modesty left he asks defensively, "what?"

That shadowed gaze flits over his face, drags down his body in a way that makes the tips of Peter's ears burn red and his cheeks heat up. By the time Tony's piercingly sharp eyes land on his again he's already a flustered mess, as he almost always is when around his boss. Taking a long drag of his cigarette, Stark leans back further against the cushions and quirks an eyebrow at him, smoke billowing from his nose on the next exhale of breath. "You look like a mess."

Peter feels himself go pink, and he turns back to the dresser with a roll of his eyes. "Yeah, thanks."

"You know what I mean," Stark says from behind him. Peter does; he knows that the man's referring to the smattering of hickeys on his neck, red teeth marks and bruises already blooming purple-black even as he stares at them-- gingerly running his fingertips across his collarbone he remembers how sharp Stephen's canines were sinking into his skin, and a pleasant shiver runs up his spine. "It's not the first time Strange went too far," Stark spits coldly. "He's always marking you up, and your other clients don't like it."

"So? Stephen's a regular," Peter reminds, leaner closer to the mirror to wipe the thick layer of mascara off his lashes. "He always pays well, and he stays within the limits too. Besides--" Pointedly avoiding Tony's eyes in the reflection now he mutters softly, "it's not like I mind it when he gets rough."

"Yes, well I do." Peter jumps at the sudden snapping of words behind him, turning around to find Stark barely a few inches away, fists clenching by his side. The older man's eyes looked more intense up close, if that were even possible; Peter can't help but feel pinned like a butterfly to the wall under that look and against his own will the coil in his lower belly tightens, blood thrumming through his veins suddenly loud in his ears.

He opens his mouth, hoping to say something to diffuse the electrifying tension that now filled the small space between them, but all that escapes him is a breathy gasp. Stepping closer, Tony reaches up to pluck the burning cigarette dangling from his lips and flick it away, then hums so low the younger boy barely catches, "I care for you, Parker. And I don't like it when I see you hurt."

"W-why?" Peter splutters weakly. "You- you're just my pimp."

Tony doesn't reply, instead dragging a calloused thumb slowly across his flushed cheek to cradle his jaw; Peter stands frozen to the spot, breath falling in short whines, swaying on his feet as the man's large hand crawls into his tousled hair to tug gently at its roots-- a surprised whimper tears its way past his throat, and against his will Peter's eyes flutter shut at the sensation. He feels Stark's head dip down until their noses brush, and the coarse stubble of the man's beard scrapes his cheek raw in a way that leaves his head spinning; almost as if on cue his cock twitches from where its confined in his panties, and Peter's striken with both overwhelming urge to rut his hips forward and hump his boss's leg, or to run away with mortification.

Before he can decide however, chapped lips are brushing against his ear lobe and drawing a full-bodied shiver from him, Stark's words a gruff baritone that is enough to make Peter's legs wobble dangerously. "You look really pretty tonight, Peter; you always do. Just don't break it."

Then with one final caress of his cheek the man turns away; Peter shivers at the sudden cold of his side, and by the time his eyes flutter open again Mr Stark has gone-- leaving him alone and leaning against his dresser, clutching at its counter for support and breathless with want that he can no longer deny.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Time to Waste 5

Good Omen Story

Link to Chapter 4 

Words: 4,001

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader/Crowley x Aziraphale 

________

Crowley slammed the door with an overly eager “yes.” He turned to Aziraphale, who had just wandered into the room after hearing all of the commotion. 

“Crowley!”

Aziraphale motioned to the stairs.

“Y/n is crying.” 

Crowley’s over the top excited happy mood instantly plummeted.

“Bloody hell.” 

Aziraphale frowned. 

“What happened? 

“She and Gabriel broke up. From what I gathered in the brief moment of Y/n screeching at him...he did something stupid. Shocking, huh? He actually made it longer than I expected before becoming a big fuck up.” 

Aziraphale sighed and shook his head. 

“I think that you need to go talk to your daughter. She needs her father right now.” 

Crowley winced.

“I’m not good with this emotional stuff.” 

Aziraphale innocently shrugged. 

“We need to find out what happened with Gabriel. How did he seem to take it?”

Crowley rolled his eyes. 

“Like the big emotionless blob of wool that he is. Ah, how the mighty have fallen.”

Aziraphale fought the urge to smile but remembered that you were upstairs miserable.

“Yes...now about our daughter?”

Crowley patted Aziraphale’s shoulder. 

“Let’s go.” 

Meanwhile, 

You sat on your bed angrily staring at the wall in front of you. What were you thinking?! You should have never trusted an archangel! Now, look where it got you! Alone and sobbing like some brokenhearted teenager in some “chessetastic” lifetime movie! 

You weren't sure what hurt more. Knowing that Gabriel lied to you about everything or actually hearing him admit it to Michael. 

“Losing my touch? Do you honestly think that I can’t make some demon half breed fall in love with me? I have her so pathetically in love with me. Trust me, I don’t love her! That would be too preposterous!

“So much for being in love with me.”

You muttered angrily as there was a knock on the door. 

“Gabriel, if that is you go jump in hellfire!”

Crowley stepped in with Aziraphale behind him. You looked up at your father as he grinned. 

“I heard you laid down the law!” 

You shrugged. 

“I guess. What’s it matter? I’m just single again. I”m just some unlovable hot mess.” 

Aziraphale shook his head. 

“Now, darling, that is not at all what you are.”

You rolled your eyes as Crowley sat down beside you. 

“Want to tell us what happened?” 

Sniffing you pushed your pillow back on the bed. 

“I heard Gabriel and Michael talking about me. Apparently, the only reason Gabriel was with me is that they want to “figure me out.” It's like I am some sick science experiment. Gabriel said that it would be preposterous to actually love me.”

No one said anything for a moment. Crowley was fighting a ton of sarcastic comments and fury that you probably didn’t want to hear. Aziraphale was stunned but not entirely surprised. This was Gabriel that they were talking about after all! 

“Want me to go roundhouse kick him in the face?”

Crowley finally responded.   You looked to your father with a mixture of amusement and devastation.    

“Just forget it. Can I have some time alone?”

Aziraphale nodded and lightly nudged Crowley.  He knew that if he didn’t get the demon out of the room, it would only be a matter of time before all hell broke loose. 

3 weeks later…

Gabriel sat miserably looking at the blank table in front of him. It was time to meet up with Michael again. Gabriel was trying to get himself in gear so he wouldn’t make a fool out of himself. The last thing that he needed was to appear weak in front of Michael. It would be a disaster if the other archangel figured out that Gabriel was in love with you. 

What a scandal that would be! Gabriel would never be able to show his face in heaven again. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing? 

Gabriel looked around the room for any sign of the other angel. He was also internally thinking of a way to get you to speak to him again. In all of the years that Gabriel had been around, he would have ever expected to love someone. 

“Hello, Gabriel.” 

Gabriel looked up as Michael sat down. 

“Michael.” 

Michael nodded with that cheesy smile that once Gabriel hadn’t even thought anything of.

“You seem so sullen all of a sudden.”

Michael stated. Gabriel rolled his eyes. 

“Maybe I am still bitter of the apocalypse not happening the way that it was supposed to. 6,000 years of planning for nothing is enough to bother anyone.”

Michael raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t think that is what the problem is.”

Gabriel leaned back in his chair.

“What are you suggesting?”

Michael smiled coyly. 

“Since the incident with the demon girl, you have been very...what’s the word...distant.  Actually moody is a better word. I think that there is more with the girl then what you have said. There was also the overdramatic way that you went after her. You know that this behavior isn’t to be tolerated.” 

Gabriel’s frown intensified. 

“What are you saying, Michael?” 

Michael grinned. 

“I am simply suggesting that you don’t show your face in heaven anytime soon.” 

Gabriel stood up. 

“I am being kicked out for falling in love? Oh, that sounds wrong.”

Michael nodded. 

“Yes, it does sound wrong and that is exactly why you are being kicked out. Loving a heathen girl will get you nowhere.” 

Michael could clearly see that Gabriel was beginning to lose his temper. Ah, that “Gabriel temper!” Michael had seen it so many times. Gabriel doesn’t get his way and everyone else in heaven pays. 

“Y/n isn’t a heathen!” 

Gabriel snapped. Michael blinked. 

“Yes, she is. She is half-demon and half-human. That is a heathen. Her father is the reason that the great plan didn’t happen. You let her seduce you with her witch magic. I suggest that you enjoy your freedom while you can. I have a feeling that both of you will be meeting the same sticky end.” 

Michael was gone in the blink of an eye leaving Gabriel looking stunned. He had really just been kicked out of heaven! So much for being “the big boss.” 

Now there was the positive information that you were in danger! Gabriel stood a moment longer before disappearing. He had to get to you and quick! 

A few seconds later…

Crowley and Aziraphale had just sat down for a quiet evening at home when there was a frantic knock at the door. 

“Who the hell is coming to visit at this time? We don’t have any friends!”

Crowley snapped as he stood up and walked to the front door. When he opened it, his somewhat peaceful feeling was shot to hell the moment that he saw Gabriel. 

“I thought I told you not to come back. Are you deaf or something?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. 

“I need to talk to Y/n. It's important.” 

Crowley put his hand over his face. 

“She hated the flowers that you sent her. She told me to tell you to go kick rocks. That's nice then what she said but what can I say...I feel like being nice.”

Gabriel held a hand up.

“I’m not here about the flowers! I need to see, Y/n! Heaven is after both of us.”

Crowley's frown deepened. 

“Like to two of you? My daughter and your haughty ass?”

Gabriel slowly nodded.

“Am I not speaking clearly enough?”

Crowley reached out and yanked the archangel into the house and quickly closed the door. 

“Well, come in and quit broadcasting in front of God and everybody! We have a nosy ass neighbor, who is probably hiding in her hedges to get dirt on us!” 

Gabriel followed Crowley into the living room. Aziraphale looked up from his place on the couch. The angel was clearly shocked to see his former superior in his living room. 

“Crowley?”

Crowley held his hands up. 

“Talk, archangel.”

Crowley snapped and sat back down beside his lover. Gabriel frowned. 

“Are you two?”

Crowley rolled his eyes. 

“DUH!!! Has it really taken you this long to figure that out? We aren’t here to talk about Aziraphale and me.”

Gabriel shook his head and remembered why he was in the room.

“Right. I got kicked out of heaven.”

Aziraphale’s mouth dropped.

“You got kicked out of heaven?”

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

Crowley said in a mocking tone that made Gabriel’s eyes narrow venomously. If it wasn’t for the knowledge that hurting Crowley would hurt his chances of getting back with you; Crowley would be hurting! 

“Can we stop with the personal attacks for a moment and listen? Heaven is after both Y/n and myself. I don’t really want to say what they have planned.” 

Aziraphale sat his teacup down. 

“I can only imagine.” 

Aziraphale had never seen Gabriel look as fearful as he did at this particular moment. During the whole “Adam” incident, Gabriel looked furious. 

“Now that we are all on the same page, may I please see Y/n?”

Crowley shrugged. 

“I would say yes but she isn’t here.”

Gabriel’s mouth fell.

“Where is she?!”

Aziraphale faked a smile. 

“In America. One of her childhood friends is getting married. She invited Y/n to the ceremony.” 

It was Gabriel’s turn to put a hand over his face. 

“You two just let her go alone?”

Crowley stood up and to go in search of some booze. If Gabriel was going to be staying with them, he was going to be drinking a lot more. 

“From what I heard she threw your ass down a hallway with a snap. I am sure she will be fine until she gets home.” 

Gabriel scowled angrily. That was the last thing that he wanted anyone hearing about! There was one thing that Gabriel knew for sure, he wasn’t going to be able to rest until you walked back through the door. 

Meanwhile, in America…

You sat in a bridal room as your childhood friend Cami was having her makeup done. She was eagerly jabbering about how excited she was for this day to finally get here. You tried to hold back a scowl! After the past few weeks, the last thing that you wanted to do was to go to a wedding but Cami’s begging got the better of you. 

“Y/n?”

Your head snapped up when Cami said your name. 

“Yeah?”

You replied. Cami smiled and motioned for the makeup artist to stop for a moment. It was still an hour and a half until the wedding. There was time for a moment of “talk.” 

Cami walked over and sat down beside you. 

“You have been really quiet since you arrived back in the states. Is something bothering you? Don’t tell me nothing. I know my little carrot top.”

You smirked at the childhood nickname that Cami wouldn’t let die. 

“Its nothing, Cami. Let’s just not worry about it right now. This is supposed to be your big day. Let’s make it big and grand...just like you have always wanted. If you annoying cousin Millie tries to start her crap...I’ll clothesline her.” 

Cami smiled and wrapped her hand around yours. 

“I didn’t invite Millie.” 

You leaned back against the chair and took a sip of the club soda that had been sitting beside you. 

“That’s swell. I won’t have to clothesline anyone but Jamie if he tries to come onto me.” 

You internally shivered at the thought of Jamie! You hated the guy. He was Cami’s soon to be husband’s best friend that loved to come on to you (or try). 

Cami smirked. 

“If he starts his crap then knock the shit out of him.” 

“We both know that I can do that...even in these ridiculous heels.”  

Cami was silent for a moment. 

“Y/n, please tell me what is going on with you! I know something is up. I feel like since you moved to London, we have drifted apart. It kills me because we used to be so close.” 

You sighed. 

“Cami, please don’t guilt trip me.”

She gave you a puppy dog face that made you want to scream. What was it with people and puppy dog faces?! 

“Oh Jesus Christ, fine! Cami, I’m pregnant.”

Cami’s mouth fell open. You were waiting for her to fall out of her chair and wreck her insanely over the top wedding dress. She looked around the room to make sure that no one else was in earshot. 

“Y/n, I didn’t think that was possible with what you are.”

You shrugged. How were you supposed to explain this to a human that wouldn't understand everything that you had been through? 

“Yeah, well, congratulations because neither did I.”

Cami quickly started fanning herself. 

“Who is the father?”

You sighed.

“Some idiot.”

That was the nicest thing that you could come up with. You didn’t really want to tell Cami about Gabriel. He was the last thing that you really wanted to think about as well. Maybe if you didn’t think about him enough, he would disappear into oblivion? 

You knew that it was a foolish thought! From the moment that you found out that you were pregnant; you knew that you were fucked! Fucked was putting it lightly too! You had no idea what in the world was going to happen to you! The conversation with Crowley a few months prior when he joked about the whole “angel/demon/human hybrid creature” not needing to come into existence was in the back of your mind! 

Cami’s voice broke you from your thoughts. 

“Come back to America! Come back here and let me help you! John won’t mind! He adores you! You can come back here and I’ll help you with the baby.”

Ah, if life was only that simple! There was no moving back to America or resuming your old life. 

“Cami, I can’t. I have a life in London now. My father, he needs me. He may be a stubborn salty bastard at points but he needs me. His boyfriend, he’s such a prince! I can’t just leave them.” 

Cami sighed. She ran a hand through her thick brown hair. Reaching over, she grabbed your hand again. 

“Then get me a plane ticket to London so I can go find the prick that put you in this mess and I’ll kick him in the shins!” 

You had to stop yourself from laughing at that. The thought of little 5’2 Cami walking up to 6’1 Gabriel and kicking him in the shins was amusing. Gabriel would probably be wondering what in the world just happened to him. He would probably think that it was some kind of unusual greeting and not an attack. 

“Yeah that won’t work Cami. Look, let’s just enjoy your wedding. I’ll figure all of this out eventually.” 

After the wedding you sat at the bar with another club soda in front of you. Cami was busy dancing her feet off. You were happy for the brief moment of peace. Cami had been trying in an over the top fashion to cheer you from since the moment that you told her about...the situation. 

You took another sip of your drink trying to figure out just what in the fresh hell you were going to do. Crowley was going to be furious. Poor Aziraphale would probably faint! You didn’t even want to think about Gabriel’s reaction. 

“What’s it matter if he doesn’t find out?”

 You muttered to yourself. Gabriel would forget you soon enough, or so you hoped! You wondered if Gabriel realized how idiotic he looked still sending your flowers after what you heard? How roses were supposed to make up for “I’m sorry I am a giant ass”...you didn’t know. If he didn’t love you then why was he trying so shamelessly to get you to forgive him. He had even sent Sandalphon to hand deliver the thousandth bouquet to you. 

The poor angel stood in front of you muttering an apology that Gabriel had obviously thrown together. You stood in the doorway with your arms across your chest while Sandalphon made a literally fool out of himself.  

Gabriel would get bored eventually or get some other assignment to consume himself with. Soon enough you would be old news in his mind ...or so you hoped.  You weren’t about to let yourself feel sadness for the love lost. It didn’t matter that it only hurt every second of every day!

“Hi Y/n!” 

You looked up to see Jamie sitting beside you. The poor guy was drunk off of his ass and it clearly showed. You never once found Jamie attractive. He was a little mouse of a man. He was no well-built archangel with the body of a god…

“STOP!”

You internally hissed at yourself. 

“Hi and bye, Jamie.”

Jamie faked a pout. 

“Why won’t you let me get to know you? You are so pretty, Y/n,”

You rolled your eyes.

“That’s original.”

Jamie smirked. Apparently, he thought that was an invitation to stay and drive you nuts. 

“Is that your  real red hair?”

You rolled your eyes again. 

“What do you think?”

Jamie reached out to touch your hand but you yanked away quickly. 

“Jamie, leave. You are making a fool out of yourself.”

He shook his head and in a flash his sappy mood seemed to sour. 

“No, I want you to talk to me! You always treat me like crap! I am a good guy! I could make you happy but you probably want some arrogant piece of crap! All of you pretty girls are alike! You don’t want the good guy! You want the asshole!”  

You sat your drink down. It was a miracle that you weren’t setting this dwarf on fire! 

“Boy, bye!”

You snapped. Jamie still didn’t move. 

“That’s why you are so bitchy isn’t it? You were with some dickwad clueless creep that treats you like shit!”  

“You know what, Jamie, I was taught to think before I act. So when I smack the shit out of you, rest assured that I’ve thought about it and am comfortable in my decision.”

Jamie looked a little perplexed before getting up and walking off. You downed the rest of your drink. 

“Creep.” 

The next afternoon, you were glad to be on your way home! After Cami, spent most of the morning beginning you to stay in the states, you were thankful to be on an airplane!  

Arriving back at the house, you stepped into the foyer and sat your suitcase down. 

“It's just me. I’m not here to do a home invasion.” 

Aziraphale appeared out of nowhere. 

“Y/n!” 

You smiled as the angel wrapped his arms around you. 

“Hi Aziraphale. Its good to see you.” 

He nodded and cupped your face. 

“It is so good to see you! The house has been too quiet without you! Did you have a nice flight?”

You nodded.

“The wedding was nice. All the sappy romance made me want to barf.” 

You turned to go into the living room. Aziraphale knew that he had to warn you about Gabriel before you went in there. 

“Y/n, I need to talk to you about something.”

You stopped in space. Did Aziraphale pick up on what was going on with you? That had to be it! 

“Aziraphale, I need to talk to you and Crowley as well. Speaking of Crowley....is he still watching that Soap Opera that he found?”

You walked into the living room expecting to see Crowley on the couch. The moment that you saw Gabriel, you wanted to yell. His eyes widened as he quickly stood. 

“Y/n, we need to…”

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

You muttered before turning to go into the kitchen. Gabriel was beside you in an instant and wrapped his hand around your wrist. 

“You ain't going anywhere. We need to talk.”

You shook your head and tried to yank your hand away but Gabriel wasn’t about to let go. 

“Go talk to yourself. That’s an audience that you can relate to.” 

You knew that the archangel was getting annoyed. 

“No, you are going to listen to me!” 

“Excuse me?”

Both of you stopped arguing as Aziraphale  and Crowley stepped into the room. You finally yanked your hand out of Gabriel’s grasp. 

“I haven’t even had a chance to say hello to my father.”

You walked over to Crowley and nodded.

“Hi Crowley.” 

Crowley smirked.

“Hey darling. Have a nice time?”

 You shrugged and smiled evilly. 

“The wedding was nice. All that romance shit made me want to vomit. Jamie tried to flirt with me. He lost miserably after I threatened to smack the shit out of him.”

You didn’t have to look at Gabriel to know that he was again beginning to lose his temper. 

“Who is Jamie?”

He questioned. You looked over your shoulder. 

“My friend’s husband’s weird friend that has the hots for me.” 

Again, you couldn’t help thinking about the differences between Gabriel and Jamie. Gabriel could kill Jamie in one punch! It would actually be amusing. You would have paid money to see it! 

“I know a rat that is about to die.”

Gabriel muttered. You quickly shook your head and started toward the archangel. 

“No way! That is a totally unfair fight. You going up against the Dell computer guy...real fair fight. I handled it. Besides, what does it matter to you anyway? I’m just some demon half breed that needs to die. Is Michael waiting in the other room? If that’s what you are here for...might as well get to it.” 

Gabriel quickly cut you off.

“I am not here to hurt you! Will you stop being a brat and listen to me?”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Do you think calling me a brat is really going to help you at all? Since we are all here, I need to talk to the three of you about something.”

Gabriel held a hand up.

“I need to talk to you about something first.”

What did he need to talk to you about? His crazy methods of begging you to take him back?

“Rock, paper, scissors on who gets to talk first.”

You quickly did the motions and grinned. 

“I win.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t even know what that was.” 

You smiled, feeling a little smugger yet nervous at the same time. It was time for your big secret to come out. You had no idea how Gabriel was going to take this. The archangel probably had no intentions of this ever happening! Hell, you never had any intentions of this happening! 

“What is it?”

Aziraphale asked. He and Crowley were looking at each other throughout the whole exchange with Gabriel. 

You motioned to the couch. 

“You three may want to sit down.” 

Aziraphale immediately sat down while Gabriel and Crowley remained standing.

“So...this is going to be awkward. No one start yelling!” 

Crowley leaned over to Aziraphale. 

“This sounds promising.”

You gave Crowley a look of annoyance. Between Crowley looking like he was waiting for you to drop the bomb that you had a new boyfriend, Aziraphale looking scared out of his mind and Gabriel looking at you not blinking... this was going to be a lot harder than you thought! 

________________

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[alice1290]

Read All About It - an Ace/OC fanfic

Note: slight nsfw near the end... 

Chapter 3

The sun was warm on her skin as Ashina lay on the boards of the quarter deck. The blanket under her was soft and warm from the sun. She caught several crew members’ attention when she shed her silk robe, revealing the black bikini. She was pretty sure Ace had a nose bleed. She knew she wasn’t as busty as most women, but she liked her curves and her muscles were toned due to her rigorous training.

Banshee laughed as she walked up to Ashina. “Your causing quite the stir among the male population.”

Ashina giggled. “Men are just a bunch of perverts. I’m not naked. Can’t a girl get a good tan? The weather here is so crazy. Gotta soak up the warmth when I can.”

“What about you and the captain?”

“He’s just a friend.” Ashina wanted it to be more, but she didn’t dare say it aloud.

Banshee gave her a skeptical look and then grinned. “I’m going to start lunch. Any requests?”

“That grilled pineapple was delicious.”

“Sure thing, missus,” Banshee teased on a laugh. Ashina heard the crew tease Ace about having a missus. Saber and Deuce were the worst.

“I’m not,” Ashina stated, scowling. Her rebuttal fell on deaf ears and she laid back down on her blanket. She rolled over onto her stomach, folding her arms under her head. A nap would be nice, rather than think on being called Ace’s missus and the butterflies that gave her. Never mind the pooling in her stomach that made her tingle and shiver whenever she looked at him. Ashina closed her eyes, set on having an early afternoon nap before lunch.

A voice shouting woke her from her nap an unknown amount of time later. “Marines to the starboard side!”

Ashina groaned. “Well, damn. So much for a nice day.” Ace’s bounty and reputation drew them like a beacon, damn the handsome Flame Boy. Ashina sat up and looked off to the right. Fuck. It wasn’t just one or two marine ships, but a whole battalion.

Ashina hopped up and weaved her way through the men running around the deck, following Ace’s orders. She heard Deuce shout a few commands from the wheel, as she ducked inside the cabin. Her sword was laid against her trunk, and she snatched it up before strapping the small dagger to her calf. She didn’t bother putting on shoes or clothes, there was no time as the boom of cannon fire struck the water near the ship. The Spadille rocked, but Ashina kept her footing.

She threw the door back open in time to see Ace launch a fireball across the water. The blazing fury ripped through one of the ships, catching the sails on fire and turning the mast into kindling.

“Nice one Captain!” Aggie yelled.

Another cannon fired, the heavy ball landing too close to the ship for her liking. Deuce shouted something about running the ships aground on the rocky reef and the Spadille jerked to the left as Deuce changed their direction, barking orders to the few men adjusting the sails and rudder.

Mihar was busy firing off shots at the closer range ships while Ace kept throwing long distance fireballs. Ashina reached out with her observational Haki, surveying the fight around her and then turned around to face the portside.

“Well, hello there.” Ashina smirked and then gasped as she noticed the woman’s strawberry hair. “And a fellow red head.”

“Stand aside, I’m here for First Fist.”

“He’s a little busy at the moment with bigger fish. You’ll have to take me down first, sweetheart.”

The woman scowled and drew her sword. Ashina drew hers and readied herself. She would not let her pass, but she did not want to harm the young woman who appeared to be around her age. Her eyes were dark amber, warm unlike Ashina’s deep emerald eyes. The Marine woman was definitely more voluptuous than her, but she would not be the better fighter.

“What’s your name?”

Ashina grinned. “Who cares about names?”

The other woman charged at her and Ashina blocked her attack, standing her ground. She shoved the woman away and readied herself again. The Marine charged again at Ashina, engaging in a series of clashes together.

The fellow redhead was quick, Ashina would give her that, but Ashina was stronger. Using armament Haki to coat her blade Ashina took the offense and move in to deal a hard strike down. The woman flew back, landing on her backside and sliding across the deck. She jumped up to her feet.

“What is your name? Who are you?” she screeched as she got to her feet. “How can you use Haki?”

“I learned?” Ashina supplied with a grin. She loved teasing the Marines when she had the chance. They were all the same, so easy to rile up, just like the woman. “If you want to know my name so bad, how about you tell me yours first?”

“AH!” The woman screamed as she sprinted across the deck, sword poised at the ready. Ashina deflected her and then delivered a hard kick to the woman’s stomach. The blow sent her tumbling back, but she recovered quickly.

“My name is -”

The ship lurched again and the women fought to control their stable footing for a moment before meeting cold stares again.

“My name is Isuka. I’m a Marine Ensign! I demand your name.”

Ashina laughed loudly. “I don’t give a damn what you demand.”

The woman rushed forward and they traded powerful blows. Her anger made her strikes fiercer and faster, but Ashina blocked and countered each blow. The woman hissed when Ashina cut her upper arm with the tip of her blade. They clashed swords again and Ashina twisted and dipped around to land another kick. This one swiped her legs out from under her and she fell to the boards as a loud crash echoed in the air.

The cracking and creaking of wooden boards reverberated in the air and shouts and screams came from the Marine ship off in the distance. They had in fact followed Deuce and met their rocky demise, while Deuce had guided the Spadille away from the same disastrous fate.

Isuka jumped to her feet and scrambled across the deck to look out at her sinking ship and crew. Her angry eyes looked back at Ashina and cursed. “I swear I’ll get you Fire Fist and now you too. And I’ll have your face and name on a bounty poster!” She jumped off into her little boat and began to make her way across the water. The strong waves and still blasting cannons made it a difficult, if not short trek.

Ashina strolled across the deck and watched the woman rowing. Ace joined her side and Ashina could feel his eyes on her for a moment.

“You hurt?” he asked.

“No.”

“Good.”

A particularly large wave crashed upon the young Marine as the Spadille began to sail away from the Marine ships. The little boat capsized and the woman came up spurting water. She was trying to swim the rest of the way, but the ocean waves were strong.

Ace strolled over to the corner near the stairs and then came back with a life preserver. He tossed it effortlessly out into the water, landing inches from the woman. “Oi! Don’t want you to drown on my watch! Now you can’t say that the Spade Pirates never helped you out! It’s been fun, maybe we’ll see you around again in the New World!”

Ashina giggled as the woman shouted something, but the Spadille was picking up speed with the wind and they were too far away to make out her shouts.

“You’re good with that sword you know,” Ace said.

“Thank you. My mother taught me, and I practiced with my father when I could. I honed my skill with the Revolutionaries.”

“I’ve seen your skin turn black. Armament Haki. Where’d you learn that?”

Ashina shrugged. “I think I’ve always had it, but I really started to be able to control it, to coat certain parts of my body when I wanted and my weapon, a couple years ago. You have the Will of D, I’m sure you have some unawakened Haki somewhere in there, Flame Boy.”

Ashina gave him a smile and then headed off. “I’m going to go finish my sunbathing while the sun is still out. Try not to get into any more altercations with the Navy today, okay?”

Ace chuckled, watching the sway of her hips in that black bikini as she walked away. “Yeah, I’ll try.”

.

.

.

Ace reached for the warm body next to him, but touched nothing. He cracked one eye open, expecting to see Ashina just out of reach, but the space beside him was empty. Ace rolled over and looked out the porthole. The night sky was still dark and full of stars. Rolling back over, more awake now, confirmed that Ashina was not in the bed. She wasn’t in the cabin at all.

Rolling out of bed, yawning, Ace strolled in just his shorts out onto the deck. Scanning the deck, he spotted her on the starboard side, near the bow. The moonlight painted her in a soft glow, her red hair a dark ruby. She was covered by a thin silk robe that exposed her lean legs. Her feet were bare. Ace knew she was cold in the night air, and wondered why she was by herself.

“You can join me you know. It’s less creepy than standing back there staring.”

“Oi! I was not staring.” Ace said, walking towards her.

Her laughter echoed across the sea and she turned to look at him as he reached her side. “You totally were, Flame Boy.”

“What are you doing out here? It’s late. What if something happened?”

“Don’t worry about me, Ace. Besides, Mihar is in the crow’s nest.” Ashina looked out to the horizon and gazed at the stars. “I couldn’t sleep. It was peaceful out here.”

Ace held out his palm and made a small flame appear, it grew larger producing more heat. Ashina brought her own hands up and held them out to the flame. She giggled and Ace smiled, watching her warm her hands to his fire.

“You’re always cold.”

Ashina shrugged. “Only when the sun goes down, but you’re nice and toasty.”

Ace wanted to ask her what she would do when she left, but he bit his tongue. He didn’t want to ruin what little time he got with her. He enjoyed her company, the way she interacted with his friends. She was a skilled fighter and would be an asset to his crew. It was a bonus that she was beautiful and sleeping in his bed. He didn’t want her to leave.

She reached out with one hand and caught his wrist. His flame faltered and went out as she moved his arm wider. Ashina tucked herself against his side, her arms going around his torso. Her head rested against his pectoral muscle and Ace lowered his head so he could inhale the sweet scent of her thick, wavy hair. Citrus and saltwater.

“Do you think that marine woman will follow you?”

Ace shrugged, wrapping one arm around Ashina and propping the other on the rail. “She won’t be much trouble even if she does.”

“Unless she calls for reinforcements. You have quite the bounty, Fire Fist.”

Ace couldn’t help but grin, even if she couldn’t see his face. “The Pirate King should have a large bounty, right? The highest?”

Ashina giggled softy. “Of course, he should. Keep blasting Marine battleships to smithereens and you’ll get yourself to the top.”

“I’ve got to fight the best of the best pirates too.”

“The New World is tougher than the Grand Line. The Yonkos call this Paradise compared to the other side.”

“Have you been to the New World?” he asked.

“No.”

He wanted to take her. Ace wanted her to go with him. They could see it together. She could fight by his side with his crew, their crew. She’d only be his missus if she wanted that from him, even if his crew already teased him about her.

“You’ve already started to make a name for yourself, Fire Fist Ace. You’ll become a great pirate.”

She reached up on her tiptoes to kiss his jawbone. Unlike the night before, Ace caught her. One hand tightened on her lower back and the other snaked up to tangle in the hair at the base of her neck.

Her eyes met his and for a moment neither of them breathed as they stared at one another. Ashina blinked, her lips parting slightly, and Ace closed the distance. The feel of her mouth on his, soft and smooth, was better than he imagined. Ashina let out a soft noise, and she let Ace deepen the kiss. His tongue slid against hers, probing her sweet mouth as his hands held her pressed to his chest.

Ashina slid her hands up his arms to wrap over his wide shoulders, holding herself closer to him. He was tall, and muscular, and oh so warm against her chilled skin. He was strong, but his mouth was soft against hers. Ashina wanted more, but crossing that line meant opening herself for deeper feelings. Deeper and stronger than she was already fighting against.

Breaking away from his delicious kiss, she pressed her forehead against his chest and slowed her breaths. Ace relaxed his hold, but did not release her.

“Sor-”

“Don’t apologize, Flame Boy. If I didn’t like your advances I’d have punched you.”

Ace snorted and pressed his lips to the top of her head. “Okay. You need a nickname.”

Ashina giggled and pulled back. Ace let her go, but she captured his hand in hers. She pulled him along behind her as she headed for the cabin. “The crew calls me Missus.”

Ace sputtered and Ashina giggled.

“No? The Marine wanted my name. I didn’t give it to her. I’m sure if they ever get my picture they’ll think of something clever. Huh, Fire Fist?”

“Ashina…” Ace trailed off, trying to think of a good nickname for her, but coming up short. “I got nothing. You are good with a sword though.”

“I have no intentions of being the World’s Greatest Swordsman. A man’s blows will always have more power, no matter how hard I train. Haki can make my blows stronger and my defense higher, but against someone like Mihawk?” She gave an unladylike snort. “Not a chance.”

Ace closed the door behind them and Ashina dropped his hand. Her hands went to the sash of her robe and the robe loosened around her waist.

“I think you could become great. You could hone your skills, get better, in the New World.”

Ashina hummed and shed her robe, leaving only the silky nightgown to cover her sun-kissed skin. Ace watched her climb into the bed and slide under the covers. He followed her and got comfortable beside her. She curled against his side, humming in pleasure as he raised the temperature, and rested her head against his chest.

“I have to go back. Dragon will have new missions, new goals. Our paths are sure to cross again once we part ways,” she said softly.

The words were bitter on her tongue.

.

.

.

It was late. Ashina was in the cabin already, but several friends were still up drinking. Ace longed to bid them goodnight, he wanted to soak up every moment he got to spend with Ashina. At the same time, he enjoyed the brotherhood, the laughter and jokes.

“Hey, Cap,” Saber said, waving a hand in front of Ace’s face to catch his attention. “That one Navy woman was a redhead, and so is the missus.”

“She’s not –” Ace tried to protest, but Saber kept talking.

“You have a knack for attracting the fiery haired women.”

The only fiery haired woman Ace was attracted to was Ashina. He took a drink from his cup to keep his eyes away from the closed door of the cabin.

Deuce chuckled. “That or they find him.”

“Pretty ones too,” Skull added. “That Marine was cute. The Missus.. well… we’ve all seen that black bikini.”

Ace couldn’t hold back the flames any longer and they erupted from his shoulders and back, the heat intense.

Deuce just laughed and leaned away. “Easy, Captain. It’s just a little joking. A guy can’t help but look. Don’t you?”

“Don’t I what?” Ace tried to play stupid, maybe they’d buy it.

They didn’t.

“Really, boss?” Saber said seriously and then grinned. “You sleep in the same bed with that gorgeous woman and you say you don’t look? You don’t touch?”

“Of course I look, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to discuss it with you knuckleheads.”

“She’ll be leaving soon, Cap,” Skull said. His tone wasn’t teasing, he was serious.

“I know that.”

“You just gonna let her walk away? We tease you, but only because we all see the two of you dancing around each other. You say live without regrets right? Stop shooting the shit with us, and walk through that door you keep staring holes into hoping none of us notice.”

Deuce chuckled and Ace shot him a glare, making the blue haired man hold up his hands. “Hey, man, I’m with Skull. She’s nice to look at, real pretty eyes, but it’s clear who she’s attracted to and it’s not one of us poor saps. Go. We’ve got one more island before Sabaody, we’ll be there by tomorrow morning. Then it’s on to Sabaody and she’s back to the Revolutionaries.”

Ace knew he was right, and it sucked. It sucked that she would be gone so soon. He had a few more days at the most. Would it be enough time to convince her to stay?

Ace stood from the stool he’d been occupying and, leaving his drink behind, headed for the Captain’s cabin. The door was unlocked, which was no surprise to him, Ashina never locked the door to his knowledge. He took it as a sign that she’d always shared some level of trust with him. She was at the desk, writing something, and only briefly looked up at him before finishing what she was doing.

Ace toed off his boots. He hung his hat on the peg on the door and then crossed over to the desk. “What are you writing?”

Ashina rolled the sheet of paper up into a tube and set the pen down. “Promise you won’t tease? I hear how the others pick on Deuce.”

Ace held out his hand. “Swear.”

Ashina slid her hand into his, squeeze it once and then let go as she spoke. “I write to my mama. She’s… she died… but I write to her sometimes. I never do anything with the letters, but it’s something I do. When she was still alive, I lived with her, and I didn’t get to see my father all that often, but I wanted to tell him everything about every day. Mama taught me to read and write, so when I was big enough I started to write letters to him. We didn’t send them, but I’d always give them to him when he visited. It must seem silly to write to someon-”

Ace cut her off. “It’s not silly. My handwriting is shit, or I’d write to my mother. I didn’t get a chance to meet her, not really. She died after I was born.”

“That’s very sad. Where’d you grow up?”

“In the East Blue. Dawn Island. I told you about Luffy? Monkey D Garp is my adopted grandfather. He checked in every now and then, when he could. Biggest pain in my ass.”

Ashina could hear then fondness in his voice and smiled. She stood from the chair and slid onto the bed, crossing her legs and patting the spot next to her. “Dragon’s father is your grandfather? Talk about a small world. So is Luffy still there? At Dawn Island?”

“Should be. We made a pack, him, Sabo, and I. Sabo was my other brother, but he… he died.”

Ashina wondered if Ace could hear the pounding of her heart at the mention of Sabo. The same Sabo she knew, her partner, her friend. The Sabo that was very much alive.

“You said should be?”

“Oh, yeah. We made a pack to set sail when we turned 17, Sabo was killed by a Celestial Dragon before he turned 17. Luffy still has two years to go.”

“Wait.. Ace, how old are you?”

“Eighteen. You?”

Ashina grinned. “I got a year on you, Flame Boy, I’m nineteen.”

Ace rolled his eyes. “It’s only a year. Where did you grow up?”

“A little island in the South Blue. If I’m not on a ship on a mission somewhere Baltigo is where I could call home now. Blasted winter island isn’t much of a home, but it makes for a good base.”

“No wonder you’re always cold.”

Ace grinned and Ashina giggled, shaking her head. “I’m not a fan, but I’d rather like to stay on Dragon’s good side, and the alternative is Momoiro Island.”

When Ace pulled as face Ashina burst into laughter. “So, you’ve heard of it?”

“Yeah. I’ll pass.”

“Me too. Not to mention Dragon is like eight feet tall. I’ll do my best to stay on his good side, so I don’t complain about the cold… that much.”

Ace made a noise of agreement. They were silent for a moment before Ashina spoke, softer this time with a hesitation in her voice. “Ace, if Monkey D Garp is only your adopted grandfather… who were your parents? Did you know them?”

Ashina took his silence as if she had offended him and quickly apologized. “I’m so sorry, that’s none of my business I shou-”

“My father was Gol D Roger.”

Ashina felt as if her eyes practically bugged out of her head.

Ace waited for the snide remark, or the derogatory words, the ones he’d heard all his life without people ever knowing he was actually Roger’s son, but they never came. Ashina sat in silence, mulling over what he had said.

“So then you’re really, Gol D Ace. Why Portgas?”

“It was my mother’s name. She was Portgas D Rouge. You ever hear about what happened after the World Government caught wind that Roger had a child?”

“Yes.” Ashina’s face twisted in disgust. The senseless murder of unborn children and women was one of the many reasons she hated that authority.

“Gramps told me that she carried me for twenty months. Long enough to ensure my safety. She died shortly after naming me. Gramps said she did name me Gol D Ace, but that bastard didn’t leave anything for me but people’s hate and distrust of him and his demon child. I chose to be Portgas for my mother, who sacrificed her life for mine.”

“Ace…” Ashina blinked back the tears that had formed in her eyes and reached across the bed to touch his hand.

He jerked at first in surprise, but turned his hand over letting her place hers in his larger one. His fingers curled around hers. “Portgas D Ace. The future Pirate King all in his own right.”

The corner of his mouth turned up in the smallest of smiles and Ashina steered the conversation to lighter topics. “So, Ace, what’s your favorite food?”

“Meat.”

Ashina burst into laughter. “That’s not a food, that’s a whole food group. What is your favorite?”

“Uh…”

She giggled again and Ace was distracted by her bright, green eyes and pretty smile. “Mine’s Takoyaki, with ramen being a close second.”

“Hmm. I guess I really like spicy peppers.”

“Like a little spicy or the ridiculously hot ones that make you sweat?”

“The second ones, but they’ve never made me sweat, they’re good.”

“They’re hot. Too hot, I like spicy but not where smoke comes out of my ears.”

Ace laughed. “Maybe it’s the devil fruit. I didn’t eat a lot of peppers as a kid.”

“No? Just meat?” She teased. “I’ve heard Devil Fruits taste awful.”

“They don’t taste good,” Ace said, pulling a face at the memory of eating the Mera Mera fruit. “Definitely not like any other normal fruits. Would you eat one if you ever found one?”

“And lose the ability to swim? No thanks. Don’t you miss being able to swim?”

“Not really. Does suck to be paralyzed in a bath. I can only go about knee deep into any water before I start to lose my power and the ability to move, it slowly drains away your energy.”

“So just showers then. See, totally won’t eat one. A hot bath or spa is the best.”

“I mean, I could, I’d just have to get someone to haul me out.”

Ashina burst into laughter covering her face with her hands and falling back onto the bed. She made a snort, which only made her laugh harder.

“What is so funny?” he asked.

“I’m trying to picture Deuce attempting to haul your ass out of the tub in the bathroom. Oh, that’s great!”

She snorted again, making herself laugh harder. Ace couldn’t help but grin down at her. “It’s not that funny.”

Ashina uncovered her face, her bright green eyes meeting his, and she replied between giggles. “Yes it is.”

Ace flopped on his back beside her, stretching out and folding his arms behind his head, and waited for her giggles to end. When they finally did she laid beside him in the quiet for a few minutes.

“I should change or I’m going to fall asleep just like this.”

Ace moved to sit up. “I’ll let you have your privacy for a moment then.”

Her hand touched his upper arm and he met her smile with wide eyes. “You don’t have to leave. You won’t see any more than you do when I wear my bathing suit.”

Ashina stood from the bed and walked over to where she kept her pack of clothes beside his. Ace flopped back on the bed and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to look, he should be polite and let her have her privacy, but damn it he was a pirate, too, and curious as fuck. In the quiet room he could hear her move about and when her shorts hit the floor with a soft plop, he opened his eyes. With his arms tucked behind his head, he could easily see her across the room.

Her back to was to him, and her long, wavy crimson hair cascaded down her naked back. The only article of clothing on her was the pale blue, cotton panties that covered a little less than her bathing suit did. Fuck, he shouldn’t have looked. Ace wanted to touch her, wanted to really feel her, he wanted to have sex with her. Most of all he didn’t want her to return to the Revolutionaries.

The floral nightgown slid down over her petite curves. She turned around and noticed his gaze. Ace smirked and shrugged at being caught, and Ashina’s lips curved up into a seductive grin.

“Do you always wear shorts to sleep?” Ashina crawled back into the bed, stretching out across what had become her side of the bed.

“No.”

“Are you going to go back out to the boys?”

“No.”

“Then strip.”

“Ashina!” he screeched.

She barked out a laugh. “For bed Flame Boy.”

Ace laid on the bed for a moment longer before sitting up. He shed his shirt and tossed it across the room to land on his trunk.

He stayed in his shorts, only yanking the two belts free from their loops, before stretching out beside her.

Ashina made a humming noise. “Suit yourself.”

She shifted around and then slid close to his side, pressing the length of her slender body against his side. One of her smooth, bare legs, slid over his while her hand found the center of his chest. His arm curved over her shoulders, holding her closer to him. Ace turned his head and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

When she lifted her head to catch his gaze, Ace hesitated only for a second before pressing his lips to hers. Ashina let out a soft moan, shifting to move higher which brought her closer. Ace depended the kiss and rolled them so he hovered slightly over her. Ashina let out another soft moan and her hands slid up his chest. They glided over his shoulders and then down to grip his biceps.

He nipped her lip playfully with his teeth as he pulled back and she gave a breathy gasp. Ace couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips. She was flushed beneath him and each panting breath caused her pert nipples to brush against his chest. The thin, soft material between them the only barrier.

Ace caught her eyes and Ashina caught his lips in a second kiss. She slid her tongue over his bottom lip and then delved into his mouth, gliding her tongue over his. She broke away, placing wet kisses across his jaw until she reached his ear.

“Touch me,” she purred.

Ace raised his head to look down at her as he lifted one hand from the mattress. He started at her thigh, as far down as he could reach, and let his fingers glide up the smooth skin. He didn’t dip under the fabric of her nightgown, but over it as he moved up to her hip. When he continued up her side she arched into his touch. Brushing the swell of her breast with his fingertips made her let out a soft moan. She arched into his touch more as he palmed her breast.

She shifted beneath him and her leg slid up his, widening and opening for him to lay between her thighs. Her leg wrapped over his and pulled him closer to her. It was his turn to moan as his hard length pressed against her warm center.

A loud banging on the door made Ashina pulled away from him as if he’d burned her.

“Yo! Captain! Unknown ship off the port side!”

“Damn it,” Ace groaned, hanging his head.

Ashina giggled and slid her leg down his, she turned her head and her lips brushed his cheek. He turned his head, meeting her gaze for a split second before catching her lips again. His hand was still on her breast, and he slid it slowly back down her curves down to the swell of her ass.

“Captain!”

Ace pulled away. “Oi! I heard you!”

Ashina giggled again and shoved his shoulder. “Go, Captain.” She stressed the title and gave him a playful grin. She shoved him again, so he reluctantly got to his feet.

“You staying in bed?” he asked, snatching his belt from the floor.

“Yell if you need me, Fire Fist.” Ashina slipped her legs under the blanket and shifted to curl up near the middle of the bed. She gave him a wink and then closed her eyes.

[akitokihojo]

Wrapped Around Her Finger

Where’s my sweet angel anon that sent me this prompt? I have a gift! I did the thing!

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

“Hey! No! Your leg goes in the onesie! Would y–Stop!” Inuyasha struggled to keep his hold on his toddler’s flailing ankle, the little girl’s giggles becoming louder as she twisted her body in unrelenting attempts to get away. Numerous times now, he’d tried shoving her wriggling foot into the footie pajamas, knowing it shouldn’t be taking him ten minutes to dress his daughter, but the highlight of her day was resisting all attempts to clothe her, and if it weren’t the dead of winter at the moment, he’d let her win. Unfortunately, it was Inuyasha’s turn to get her ready for bed, and he was fucking weak for her high-pitched laughter and messy, dark waves that didn’t yet come close to reaching her shoulders as she played her one-sided game and kicked his hands away. “Come on, we’re almost there! In the onesie! No, I’m serious! In. The. Onesie. Yes!”

The half demon raised his fists in victory, and the toddler took her queue, rolling over to her hands and knees and dashing away as quickly as her little limbs allowed.

“Oh no ya don’t!” Inuyasha grabbed her by her ankle once more, dragging her back along the carpet and flipping her to be on her back, working to hastily snap each button closed from her leg up. “What’s your deal with being naked, anyway?”

She giggled in response, continuing to kick her chubby legs in order to make his job harder. It wasn’t like she could very well answer him. His daughter was only a couple months over a year old, and her favorite word, despite his fervent disapproval, was mama. Inuyasha managed to somehow finish the leg, and he brought her wiggling body closer to his knees, making it a bit harder for her to continue to fight him. She gave him a huff, her mother’s attitude showing through, and he couldn’t help but gloat that he was winning. The little girl twisted her upper body, whining sounds of protests as she tried to get away, but he kept her still, bending down to press his lips against her full tummy and blowing a sloppy raspberry.

She screeched, the high-pitched sound hurting his sensitive ears but entirely worth it as her tiny hands pushed his forehead away, her body going still for a small moment and giving him the open opportunity to finish the job and close up her jammies. Inuyasha stood his baby up, supporting her until she had her balance and could hold herself, and she reached her palms out to grab his cheeks and squish them together, something he often did to her.

“Mama.”

Inuyasha groaned, rolling his golden eyes and pulling her hands away just so he could push her own cheeks in. “No, I’m papa.”

“Mama.” She laughed, moving from his grasp and waddling across the room towards the mess of toys she’d recently created. “Mama, mama, mamamamamamamama.”

“Look, kid, I know you can say it. You’ve said it before. Would it kill you to say papa?”

“Mamamamamamamama.”

“I think she knows you’re jealous.” Kagome giggled from the doorway, leaning her shoulder along the frame, the large shirt she donned hanging off the opposite shoulder and exposing her silky skin. 

“I’m not jealous. I just want to be called by my rightfully earned name!” The half demon argued, rocking back off his knees to sit on his butt, crossing his legs in front of him.

“Don’t be offended, Inuyasha.” Kagome laughed, walking into the room and sitting next to her husband. “She thinks that’s everyone’s name. Yesterday, at the grocery store, she called the bagger mama.”

He looked at her entirely unamused, the jealousy clear as day on his face for her to see, and she stifled her chuckle, biting her lip and bumping Inuyasha with her shoulder.

“I’m positive you’d be way more upset if she went around calling everyone by your name.” Kagome said. “Wouldn’t you, you grumpy puppy?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He grunted, fully hating how she was right. Innocent or not, it would bother him to no end if his little girl called any other person papa, and Kagome knew just how to get under his skin to make him see the bright side of things, whether he wanted to or not. His wife giggled, shifting closer to place a kiss to his cheek.

“When are you coming to bed?” Her voice was flirty and playful, and he arched his eyebrow at her as her fingers dipped inside his shirt to graze the flesh of his chest.

“When would you like me to?” Inuyasha teased, enjoying Kagome’s attention as she smiled, wiggled her shoulders, and took her bottom lip into her mouth.

“Well, now sounds good.” She said, her fingers coming out of his white shirt, trailing down the cotton, and crawling beneath the hem to gently skim along his toned abdomen. A soft rumble came from his chest in response, as he leaned in to kiss her, his lips tender and soft as she shifted once more to give him a better taste.

“Alright,” He murmured into her mouth, jerking away and clearing his throat. “It’s time for bed, kid! Your mom and I are about to make you a sibling!”

“Inuyasha!” Kagome gasped, grabbing a nearby stuffed animal and whacking him in the face with it.

“What? It’s not like she knows where babies come from!” He argued, yanking the pink, stuffed bunny from her grip and hitting her back.

Kagome reached behind her, grabbing a stuffed turtle by the foot to swing at him. “She’s smart enough to talk; she’s smart enough to repeat that!”

“She refuses to say anything other than mama! I think we’re safe!” He said, using the rabbit in his hands to block her attack. “Alright, that’s it!” He threw the animal aside, using his shoulder to shield himself from the flying turtle and launched on top of Kagome, pushing in between her legs and pinning her beneath him. She pushed against his hold, laughing the entire time as he feigned weakness, allowing her to wriggle her wrists free and fight him back. Inuyasha pushed her hands away from his chest, dipping down to kiss at the crook of her neck knowing full and well how ticklish that spot was, holding himself taut above her as she flailed about, laughing uncontrollably while she put in grand efforts to push him away.

“Stop, Inuyasha!” She giggled, clamping her shoulder to her jaw to shut off access to her neck!

“You brought this on yourself!” Inuyasha pushed her arms away once more, ducking straight down to kiss at the exposed side of her throat.

“No! Stop!” Kagome thrashed around some more, laughing so hard her stomach began to hurt. “Okay, you win! You win! Get off!”

“I’m sorry, what was that? I’m deaf from your screaming.”

“You win!”

A loud and angry squeal caught their undivided attention, their toddler stomping angrily toward them and pushing at Inuyasha’s arm with all of her burly might. The half demon, though initially shocked by her response, was quick to jump on board, pretending to be affected by his daughter’s attacks.

“Get him, baby! Get him! Show him whose boss!” Kagome delightedly encouraged, sitting up from the carpeted floor as her husband fell over and off of her. Their daughter crawled on top of Kagome, hugging her chest while shooting a dirty scowl, pouty lip and all, towards her father.

“No, papa!”

Inuyasha supported his torso along the ground with his elbow, looking over at his two girls, mouth agape. His wife snickered, hugging the little girl and hiding her smile behind her messy head of hair.

“Are you… are you kidding me?” He asked incredulously. Now she says his name; when she’s mad at him. “She definitely takes after you.”

“Yeah, and that’s why you’re wrapped around her chubby, little finger.”

[cloudycrystalkpop]

Caedes

pairing characters: high priest! Mark + high priestess! reader + feat. Stray Kids

summary: masterlist | Caedes Latin, Noun. Translation: violence, bloodshed, bloodlust.

warnings: violence, death mention

words: 1.5k

author: @nervousbby

~

Mark woke up that morning with a sinking feeling in the pit of his gut, and his fists clenched tight, fingernails digging into the skin of his palm. It was the kind of feeling that warned you to stay in bed, to board up the windows and wait out the storm.

Sunlight streamed through the rough textured curtains in soft honey streams, the sky a bright, vibrant blue. Summer was beginning to melt into fall, the earth sinking back in the moments just before harvest.

The smell of pancakes and the sound of muted mutters eased him out of bed, bare feet clumsily stumbling down the tight-fit old wooden staircase, croaking with each step.

Jeno stood over the stove, looking like a figment in the loose white button down he so adored. Jaemin sat on the counter next to him, feet swinging in lazy motions just above the ground.

"Lucas back yet?" Voice still low with sleep, Mark threw his body down at the kitchen table, just feet away from the open-panel doorway. Head resting against his forearms, his eyes flickered to the clock. Good mornings were greetings reserved before ten o'clock.

"We haven't seen him, all his stuff is still in his room and his phone is off.." Jeno plated the final cake, turning off the gas burner and watching the flame flicker off with a loud crack.

"I'm sure he's fine." Jaemin slipped off the hightop counter in one easy motion, opening the cabinet to begin fishing out silverware.

"'S been two days now." Mark yawned, locking his fingers together to curve back into a partial stretch. Lucas vanishing act wasn't uncommon, but normally he would at least leave a note for Jisung or even take a bag.

"He could be gone for two weeks and still be fine, he's just an idiot." A higher voice chimed from behind the other end of the sofa, Renjun's head slowly emerged from the cushions, phone in hand.

"We're down two," Jeno frowned, stacking together a setting tray.

"Haechannie checked in last night, he said he should be home by Saturday," Jaemin dismissed with a light wave.

"Is Jisung up yet?"

"Not yet, Renjun, would you mind going to get him?" Jeno heaved the tray up with surprising strength, tone even despite the three small glass jugs of syrup and milk lined up against his chest - Mark always insisted the jugs were unnecessary, but Jeno was a stickler over ugly, syrup-sticky plastic containers.

Renjun gave a light grumble but nevertheless rolled himself off the sofa and trudged himself back upstairs.

"You look tired today." Jaemin slid his plate infront of him, having to nudge one of his arms out of the way to make room.

"Mmh." Mark pushed himself back up to sitting position, fork digging into his plate before Jaemin even removed his grip.

"Chenle up?"

"He was up early today to go visit his aunt." Jeno's expression fell a moment, his lips turning into a deep frown. The poor woman had been in and out of the hospital for years now, but the recent bout of pneumonia was a looming tension over the household.

"We should go hold a healing later this week." Jaemin fiddled with the edge of his necklace, pulling out the chair opposite to Mark, a thoughtful look in his eyes.

"Come on, kid, hurry up." Renjun growled, awkwardly pulling a much taller figure close behind,

Jisung only snarled in response, finally stumbling down to the table, hoodie pulled far over his face and his hands tucked deep in the pockets of his pajama jeans.

"Hungry?"

~

"She could be in there." Chan's optimism fell flat in the atmosphere, his arm bouncing off yours in what was supposed to be a playful motion.

Always the level headed sibling, Chan was responsible, cool, everything a High Priest should be. Even when your coven charge vanished in the middle of the night without a trace, he pushed forward with a wry smile and silver-lined assurances that everything would be fine.

"If she is, I'll kill her." Rage bubbled in your chest, your face red and breath uneven. Any trace of the sanctimonious, regal High Priestess facade you paraded was long gone, leaving only a raw, open kind of emotion.

You knew she'd been seeing that sewer rat for months now, afternoons melting into late nights where she stumbled back inside with the taste of contraband alcohol on her tongue and a few more buttons missing off her top.

You weren't sure what she was looking for in him, only that she would be let down.

"And I'll kill him." Felix accent was thick with the same kind of anger, voice low and syllables stretched.

Felix had a particular bone to pick with the young man who seemed to have snatched the object of his pining away overnight.

Lucas was older, taller, reckless with no strings attached, every god forsaken night he spent watching her slip out the door into the devils arms felt like a damning.

The house was exactly what you would picture of a coven, maybe three stories high with old, rustic dark-yellow paint and broken details.

Stacks of bones carefully placed in an old whicker basket ontop of a oak-carved rocking chair, crystal windchimes hanging off the piping, and a few rather large bottles of mysterious liquid all lined the porch.

The windows were dark, and only added to the ominous feeling of dread that occurred when you stepped up to ths double door entrance.

Felix began hammering one of the bible style knotches with a force that must have hurt, each knock thundering through the house.

"It was about goddamn time you showed u-Priestess Y/n." The Priest - Mark opened the door looking rather disheveled, a frown of surprise shooting up his features.

You'd only encountered the rivaling coven as a whole a handful of times, despite the crowding in territory, but you'd known enough from local sabbath's to pick out a face or two.

"Where is he?" You growled.

"Where is who?"

"The tall one."

"Lucas? He hasnt been home for a while now. Has he done something?" The Priest held the same kind of calm, nonplussed posture of a mother called for the actions of her troublesome son.

"Bullshit." Felix was foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog, his grip was on Mark's collar before you could even blink. Back tracking him onto the door.

"Where is she?"

"Where is who?" Mark's repeated, his yelp drew attention from the inside, the sound of plates crashing and hurried scuffles before more faces began to emerge from the hallway.

"You know exactly who I'm talking about. The woman he's been sneaking all over the place. Where is she?"

"Hey, man, I think its about time you back off." A taller young boy grabbed Felix by the arms, ripping his grip off. Chan tried to grapple for his charge, only for Felix to stumble back in evasion.

"She took a blood oath, she belongs to us." You pointed an accusing finger to the edge of Mark's nose, your lips curled back into a snarl.

"That sounds like a her problem," another boy muttered.

"What we're trying to say is that if you somehow know where she may be, withholding that kind of information could be considered a violation of trust between covens - especially ones so close in land." Chan, ever the diplomat, tried to glue on a laidback smile, but his manner only soured with each passing second.

"We really don't know where she would be, Lucas has been gone for two days now..we're rather worried ourselves." Mark pushed his members back into the hall, almost as if trying to block them from view, his hand frantically grabbing for the edge of the door.

"What he's trying to say is, fuck off, lady."

That sure did it.

Felix lunged like a pit viper, fists flying on the nearest target - who just so happened to be the Priest himself - three sharp hits to the jaw before he was pulled back and slammed into the hardwood.

"Jisung!"

"Felix!"

You cried in rhythm with one of the opposing coven charged, but Felix nor his assailant made no agnowledgement.

Both of the young boys were caught, swimming, suspended in their own world of red. Kicking, punching, spitting.

The only goal was pain.

Chan included, it took three people to pry the two away from eachother, still hurling hardly coherent insults between harsh coughs and heaves for air, minds still hazy with bloodlust.

"Come on," Chan looked downcast, walking Felix back in slow motions, an arm locked around his throat.

"You won't find her here. We won't find anything here."

~

Mark knawed at the edge of his nails, watching Jaemin sew stitches into the large gash against Jisungs temple - where Felix had smashed his head against the porch tiling, catching his face against a loose nail.

"Lucas.." he murmured upon deaf ears.

"What have you done?"

~

Bright florescent lighting only served to drown out the low quality of the corner-hung television witch buzzed with an annoying hum. Inside, a late-aged reporter took a deep breath, doing her best to plaster on her fakest smile to push through the midday news rush.

"Today we bring you a shocking discovery. The bodies of two unidentified teenagers were found in Stagnum spring early yesterday morning. The sherriff's press conference on the matter is currently in session, we will be cutting there now."