#but some of them clearly aren’t and that makes me even angrier

[badolmen]

Sometimes I hear about News and I am consumed by rage that I direct toward bettering my own community and strengthening it to face the coming adversity.

[yandere-kokeshi]

How would TF141+Konig,Nikolai react if their reader drunk and told them about how reader family used to sold reader at brotherel.

Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about prostitution, mention of trauma, and foreshadowing on murdering. 

A/N: Definitely took my time writing this, so I hope you enjoy it!

Captain “Price” John:

Whiplashes at you, nearly breaking his neck as he places his cold-glass down on the table. 

“Sorry, what?” 

He’s pissed. He cannot fathom why anyone could possibly do something so awful to his sweet darling, but he’s heartbroken, too. His heart shatters when you explain it, going into detail of what happened. And soon, John’s hands find themselves on yours within a heartbeat, thumbs grazing over your knuckles, and squeezes them occasionally. 

If you blow it off, saying it’s no biggie, John gets angrier. It’s not fine, and his tone is firm, and large hands that’s on top of yours aren’t letting go. And soon, he softens — bringing you into his lap, kissing the crown of your head. Hands running up and down your back, whispering to you of how special you are. 

And soon enough, later that night when you’re sleeping, his mind is wide-awake and angered. Wondering if your family is worthwhile to get a visit, teach ‘em a lesson or two.

From now on, John is so gentle with you; checking in with you first and won’t push you for anything. He even suggests therapy, or perhaps couple-therapy, to help you in some way. He wants you to know he’s here for you, as that’s all you have. 

Your parents are nowhere to be seen. The news has reported them missing, and it’s weird that John had come home after an hour when their bodies had been found, right? 

—

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

Whiplashes so hard, his neck popped as he looked at you. The cheap beer that you and him were drinking is set down, the loud clanking making the silence even louder, and his brown-doe eyes are staring at you. 

“You bein’ serious?”

Simon is fuming, absolutely seething with rage at how they used and hurt you. And he’s extremely tempted to find all of them and break every single bone in their miserable body. How on the earth could they hurt and betray you, you, the literal light in his life like that? 

“Love, you can’t jus’ drop a bomb like that and expect me to be all natural with it,” His tone seethed. He tries to soften it, he really does, but his rage with what you’ve just told him is starting to seep through the built-in cracks. And it’s clearly showing his not-so pretty side. 

But as soon as he sees your face, his heart re-breaks all over again. And within seconds, he pulls you into his arms, whispering sweet words of love and promises of safety; kissing every part he can reach until you tell him to stop.

If you haven’t already cut ties with your family, Simon immediately does it for you — anger shown and his tone sharp. He removes them from any way possible of how they could connect to you, even going as far to put a restraining order against them. But, if they decide to be snide, and try to take you back? Simon is more than happy to use his physical strength to scare them away. 

—

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick:

He laughs uncomfortably, before he really thinks and chews on the words a little more. His eyebrows crease against each other, fingers tightening around the beer bottle, as he looks at you very concerned. 

“Wait– what was that?” 

Kyle watches you go on, rambling about it as if it’s not a big deal, and he’s in pure shock. He’s not sure if you’re putting a brave face on, or if it’s the alcohol, but either way, it’s making him mad. His hands are shaking, his heart thundering in his chest, mind going a mile a minute, trying to understand the concept, but he can’t seem to get past the anger part. 

“Baby… when did this happen?” he generally questions, uncomfortably shifting in his seat as he looks for something in you. He’s worrying. Wonder what it’s done to you, someone he loves so deeply, and he can’t fathom the idea that something so horrific happened to you. 

Within seconds, he apologizes. Brown eyes looking at yours, barely forming tears. He’s pulling you into a tight hug, holding you deeply, and finding a way to blame himself. If he’d known you sooner, maybe it wouldn’t have happened. He could’ve protected you. 

But, that doesn’t help the situation — so he focuses on you, helping you through things and ensuring you’ll be safe. Because you’ll always be with him. 

Kyle tries to help you in every shape and form, making sure your boundaries are set and that he follows them knee-deep. And that, of course, your family doesn’t come near you. If they try to push through the cracks, he’s immediately acting viciously. And it’s not pretty.

 —

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish:

He chokes on his drink, coughing up a storm. Hitting him like a ton of bricks, and somehow, you look at him like he’s the one who said some type of sex joke at the wrong time. 

“I– beg your pardon?” 

He’s right in the same area with Ghost, furious in many aspects. His face shows it. His body language, and thick voice. When you’re describing the multiple incidents, it just makes him want to track down your family and rip them in two. 

Comfort is immediately given, Johnny’s arms find yours within seconds, and you’re brought into a cuddle session — one where he kisses every part, and promises that you’ll never have to face them again. He looks at you, blue eyes just admiring you before kissing your cheek, “Nobody will hurt ya’ again, swear on my and ma’s life, sweets.”

And he goes with it. Days pass, and he’s still thinking about it. He sees you so strongly, and how you’re able to go about your day and act as if it’s normal; his heart beats faster at your sewn thoughts of even crying. 

Without saying, Johnny despises your family. A bitter emotion that can be easily shown if you bring them up into a conversation. His hands crunch in remembrance of their scared face, and you won’t be seeing them anymore. You can’t. 

—

König:

He just looks at you, seemingly going deeper into your soul. Which, of course, creeps you out. König watches you explain, with a flushed look, and he’s tasting iron in his mouth from how hard he’s biting his cheek. 

“Hase, what’d you say?” 

He just keeps staring at you. And he doesn’t want you to think he’s angry at you, because he’s not — never in a million years, but it’s devastating to him. How could someone, a family that you’re supposed to trust, do that to you? 

“König?” your voice brings him out of his deep thoughts, bloody thoughts, and he just looks at you before bringing you into his chest; a man, so large and beefy, has a voice so little and fragile, that you could barely hear it. He sighs, “Why did you hide it? I’d much rather you talk to me, okay?” 

He’s obviously affected, but not as much as you are. He’s in a state of disbelief, and the fact you just blurted it out, whilst in a vulnerable state, makes him sick.

He’s unbelievably more clingy the next few days, ensuring you know your own worth and how strong you are. Everywhere you go, he’s touching you — smoothing the wrinkles in your clothes as his hands crawl underneath the fabric. Kissing you and nearly suffocating you with his weight. 

As for your family, he ignores and diverts the questions of them into a different conversation. He doesn’t want to scare you, but with the things he’s done, König is certain you’d be smart to connect the dots. 

—

Nikolai: 

Not a single laugh, or fun look comes from Nikolai. He’s immediately concerned, the shot glass being put down as he really looks at you, biting his lip. 

“Think that’s enough alcohol, Lyubimyy. Why don’t we head to bed, hm?”

He doesn’t necessarily react — but more so tries to make you sidetrack so you two can focus on something else. Until, the next morning, is where he re-brings it up and asks. He’s concerned, dark eyes showing sadness that’s covered by anger. But your feelings matter. They will always come first. And when he sees your reaction, Nikolai quickly understands, “We can talk whenever you’re ready, mkay lovey?” 

Nikolai comforts you with the best of his abilities, ensuring that you’re not a burden. You’re the complete opposite, and you’re so strong. His hugs become deeper, kisses become longer and more intimate. 

And the gifts he brings home, even to the grocery store, are enormous. His sly smile as he carries them in definitely takes your head off some things, no? 

Your parents are immediately cut out of your life. Nikolai has secrets of his own, and once in a while, he has to take out the dirty trash, right? Before he leaves for the day, a mission needed for Laswell, he promises to be back before 5 PM; and he does, arriving all giddy and flirty. But his hands seem a bit too warm, a bit odd. 

[hiraethwa]

one summer day

10 epiphany. where ushijima has a sudden realization

<< 09 disconnect. | >> 11 epiphany.

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x reader a/n: we only go up from here, my loves - ave word count: 3.7k 💀 warnings: violence, threats, vile, misogynistic comments (by a rando), cursing tags: @lemurzsquad @daisy-room @integers -- (inbox me if you want to be added to the tag list)

april, third year

ushijima wakatoshi is by no means a people person. he is a highly motivated individual, mind always focused on the task at hand. he does not mind people interacting with him, although he can survive without it. 

he enjoys playing volleyball and listening to his teammates, occasionally adding to the conversation, but he has never been a particularly talkative person like tendo. it’s not that he dislikes human interaction, he just finds that sometimes, some things are better left unspoken, or perhaps unnecessary altogether. 

he never goes out of his way to befriend someone – he was already busy with volleyball as it is, and to add to it, staying on top of his school’s demanding curriculum. people has commented on his stoicism and general unapproachability behind his back, not that he cares enough about it. so naturally, he did not have a lot of friends to begin with. 

wakatoshi thinks that he is satisfied with his way of life and intends on keeping it simple with just school and volleyball, and none of the drama that he’s heard going around his year all the time. or rather, he intended to. 

and so, he finds himself confused, and irritated as well, when this guy from his year, apparently the captain of the basketball or baseball or whatever, he could care less, tries to start some kind of shit with him. 

ushijima was on his way to lunch with tendo when this idiot came and started badmouthing him and the volleyball team, calling him a useless piece of shit and some other names that he stopped listening to. he wondered what the point of this confrontation is when he doesn’t even know who this person is. 

with a blank stare and a twitching eyebrow, ushijima cuts him off, “i’m sorry, who are you again?” 

it only made him angrier and humiliated, with the crowd that is starting to form around the commotion. “my name is yamasaki takeo.”

“i don’t recall asking for your opinion, yamasaki-san,” ushijima retorts irritably, eliciting a gasp from tendo who is next to him. 

yamasaki gapes at him, as the whispers from the students around them grow audibly. 

that ought to be the end of it, ushijima thinks, as he makes to leave the scene that yamasaki caused. he has better things to worry about, like the fact that you are still not on speaking terms with him, rather than this pointless confrontation that is clearly wasting his time.

“that’s right, because you’re too busy trying to get into miyamura’s pants than focusing on volleyball, aren’t you?” 

tendo reckons that the idiot is relentless in picking a fight with him, and apparently has a death wish. for he had the balls to bring your name up when it is currently occupying the top spot in ushijima’s list of touchy subjects, which is very, very short. in fact, it only has one entry right now.

ushijima clenches his fists. now he is truly irritated, and his short patience is reaching its end. 

yamasaki, noticing that he is finally getting a reaction out of the indifferent volleyball captain, delightedly goes on to drag your name through the mud. 

“is it really that difficult to get your little girlfriend to sleep with you, captain, if you are so high and mighty? or is it just you that she is not interested in?” he mocks ushijima, a shit eating grin on his face now that he has ushijima’s full attention, discovering his weakness. “maybe she’s actually sleeping around with your friends. in fact, i wouldn’t be so surprised if she is, considering how close she is to semi eita as of late.”

if looks could kill, yamasaki would be long dead by now. his only saving grace being the thin fraying thread of patience that ushijima is holding on to. a very, very thin thread. 

“if you know what’s good for you, keep her name out of your filthy mouth.” ushijima grits his teeth. 

ushijima hates that he has you dragged into this spectacle. you’re not his girlfriend, much less his friend at this very moment. he hates that too, that you are so far away from his reach. he dislikes the hole your absence left in his meticulous schedule, and he misses the warmth your presence brings him. 

for your sake, he has been keeping his temper in check. convincing himself that getting into a brawl with yamasaki would only serve to fan the flames of the situation when word spreads around school, and the one who would suffer the most would be you. 

but it appears that yamasaki is asking, practically begging for it, as he continues his goading. “maybe i need to get a taste of her, considering how well she has you wrapped around her finger.”

the thread explodes. 

red. red is all ushijima could see as someone grabs a hold of yamasaki’s collar and throws a fist into his cocky face. he is so full of shit. a killing calm descends on ushijima as he watches the person pull his arm back and send another punch to yamasaki. again. and again. 

he vaguely registers his friend shouting his name and pulling on his arm with a few of other students. semi and ohira, he realizes. puzzled, he looks down to see his hand gripping tightly onto the front of yamasaki’s uniform, and his left hand is covered in blood. 

oh. oh. that was him who punched the asshole.

ushijima releases his hold on yamasaki, breathing heavily as the gravity of the situation settles in. it isn’t some inconsequent drama to circulate around school anymore. 

yamasaki struggles to stand, coughing out blood. his nose sits crookedly on his face, most possibly broken. but he has the nerve to smirk, as much as he could, at ushijima. “not so strong now, are you?”

“says the one with a sorry state for a face,” semi retorts, tense from the whole situation.

he merely wipes at his bloodied face, waving semi off. “i am not the one you need to worry about. i am also not the one who is risking his spot on the under 19 team for the youth world championship with a scandal.”

ushijima recoils, blood running cold. was that his goal all along? 

“maybe, i will forgive your actions, if you get on your knees and beg,” yamasaki pauses, a dark glint in his eyes, “and give y/n to me.”

his words have ushijima struggling to break free from his teammates, caution thrown to the winds, ready to beat him to a pulp. 

“let go of me!” ushijima growls. fuck the consequences, there is no way in hell he will let this asshole lay a finger on you.

he does not notice the crowd parting as the students recognize you and allow you space to get to the front of the commotion. the frown on your face from witnessing the latter half of the events unfolding after you yielded to chika’s curiosity of the commotion that sent students running in the hallways and getting their friends to join them. the sigh that escapes your lips from being the center of the drama. 

“is that all it really takes?” your voice stops him in his attempts to break free, his head snapping towards you in shock.

ushijima has not felt fear in years, certainly not on the volleyball court, not since his parents had a messy divorce, but your words send his heart dropping to the floor. “y/n–”

“stay out of it.” you breathe sharply at him, needing your wits about you if you were to get him out of this situation unscathed. turned away from yamasaki, you let out a trembling breath and steel your nerves. 

you’ve worn a mask in your own home for years, this is nothing, you remind yourself. sure, the whispers would spread, but for him, you would wreck yourself. to hell with this asshole if he dares to try to bring ushijima down. ironic, considering you distanced yourself to save your own heart. when it is all said and done, it still belongs to him.  

“unfortunately, i am not an object that ushijima can simply give away, yamasaki-san, but am i worth the lengths you went to?” 

you observe as his eyes dart behind you at ushijima. so that’s how it is. you are not what he wants. what he wants is to get to ushijima, for reasons you can surmise from the gossip that had been floating around the last week. 

if you play your cards right, you could twist his arm behind his back, figuratively speaking. he would have no choice but to back down, you hope. if not… you don’t want to even think about it. this has to be enough.

“why don’t i propose you a better trade?” you bat your lashes at the scum in front of you, playing the role of the ever helpless girl using her body to get away with things. praying to the gods above that he will take the bait. just come a little closer and i will show you my teeth, bastard.

surely, you can’t be thinking of actually going out with yamasaki, ushijima tries to convince himself as he watches you smile at the asshole coyly. you are smarter than that, and he is not worth your sacrifice. 

or is he? he averts his eyes as you lean in towards yamasaki. shoves the prickling sense of unfamiliar discomfort down. shushes the pealing bells in his mind. the urge to pummel his face to nothing. 

he tries to put his mind elsewhere, but a sense of inevitability creeps in. dread, he realizes, crawls up his spine and makes its home there.

he wants to shout at you. something. anything. anything but this. he doesn’t need to be in the youth 19 team. he would rather risk it all. he doesn’t need anything, doesn’t want anything but you by his side. and the thought of it terrifies him.

“wakatoshi-kun,” tendo nudges him and grabs his attention away from his thoughts. he follows tendo’s gaze towards you and takashima, whose cocky smirk was completely wiped off his bloodied and bruised face and replaced by a paleness that looked like fear. “that’s your girl.”

“i’m so glad we were able to come to an understanding, takashima-san. i would hate for such a nasty argument to get even more out of hand, don’t you agree? now that we are on the same page, i’m sure this won’t happen again. right, takashima-san?” ushijima shudders at the underlying hostility in your fake cheery voice that is directed towards takashima. he never wants to be on the receiving end of it, he thinks. 

you lay a hand on his arm, an eerily innocent smile on your face. and takashima winces, nodding quickly and too eagerly compared to his earlier behavior. 

“i guess we will see you around?” ushijima catches on to the hidden demand under your nice words. you better stay away from us. “oh, do you need a hand to the nurse’s office?”

what exactly did he miss? but he is too awestruck by the way you turned the situation around that he forgot to correct tendo’s earlier statement. 

he tunes out takashima’s stuttering response as you turn around, a frown finding its way onto your beautiful features as your cold eyes land on him. barely registers tendo calling “show’s over” and gesturing at the crowd to disperse and mind their own business.

he hates the mask you are wearing, pushing everyone, and him, away as a defense mechanism. he hates that he is the reason you had to don it today to protect him from his own actions.   

ushijima finds himself reaching out to you to smooth out the furrow in your brows, only to be met by resistance. your slender fingers hook onto his wrist, halting his movement for a split second before dropping his hand like a hot potato. 

“people are watching,” you remind him. your eyes catch on his left hand, where the skin on his knuckles was split, hesitating on your next words. “you should get that treated.”

he frowns, already missing the feeling of your skin on his. why would he care that people are watching?

the four of them end up walking to the nurse’s office with ohira dismissing himself from the group for some errand he had to run for his class. tendo being tendo, starts pestering you about what you did and how you did it despite your clipped answers. 

ushijima finds himself staring at the back of your head, unsure if you are just a figment of his imagination from how long he went without interacting with you. next to him, semi nods his head at you, “she doesn’t hate you, you know.”

he stays quiet. if that’s true, then why are you so intent on avoiding him?

“you are both impossible,” semi huffs in disbelief. 

finding the nurse’s office empty, semi lets your little group into the dark room. tendo beelines for the cabinet, rummaging for supplies. you didn’t have the energy to tell them that they should probably wait for the nurse to come back.

you keep to the door, fidgeting as if you could not decide to stay or go. “see you guys” you blurt, feet moving quickly out the door.

“y/n–” ushijima panics. is this it? is this all he has left of you?

“i’ll go talk to her.” semi promises, running after you, leaving ushijima in tendo’s hands.

they sit in silence as tendo cleans up ushjima’s bloodied knuckles, the latter unphased by the sting of disinfectant on raw skin with his entire focus on the doorway. wishing. 

sure enough, semi returns with an uneasy y/n in tow, looking like you would rather be anywhere but there. 

he makes you sit on the bed across from ushijima, an indecipherable look in his eyes. “stay, you two need to talk. tendo and i will be right outside.” translation: don’t think about leaving until you talk to him. to which you return an unamused look, crossing your arms in a defensive manner.

you wait until the door clicks closed behind them before stealing a glance at ushijima. his stare displaces you, as if there is nothing more important than you. unbelievable, you think. 

you open your mouth to say something – something mean and hurtful so that he would stop looking at you like he cared, but decide against it, knowing full well your anger, the serpent that rarely rears its head is nasty when it does. 

“why are you avoiding me?” he breaks the silence. the first words you’ve heard from him in a long while, not counting the short exchange earlier and during orchestra practice. you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss his voice. that it didn’t calm the wary hissing wild animal in you on some subconscious level.

“why do you care, ushijima?” the name still leaves a bitter taste on your tongue even though you have tried to get over it. you don’t actually love him, right? it’s just a schoolgirl infatuation. or at least, that is what you keep telling yourself, hoping that it will be true when you repeat it enough times. 

“you are my friend, y/n.” his eyes snap to yours, begging you to understand. 

the feeling of drowning creeps in, bringing you back to the first sleepless nights after you cut him off. how pathetic you were running after someone who did not even treat you as their friend. how worthless. how you went from wishing that he saw you as you are to wishing that he never walked into your life.

“no, if i am your friend, then why didn’t you tell me about the nationals? fuck, i had to find out from semi, and it was only because they needed me to stop you from hurting yourself. what the fuck am i to you, ushijima wakatoshi?” you snap at him. 

he starts to say something, but you are not done, not yet. 

“why bother? why save me from myself, tell me you’re my friend, when you certainly don’t act like it when it comes to yourself? do you think so little of me? or am i just some basket case to you?” your fists curl at your sides, angry tears threatening to escape your eyes, as you will them back. 

why did you start the fight? why? 

and then he is at your feet, kneeling and taking your hands into his, looking at you as if you are his salvation. “it was easy, caring for you. felt right, like second nature. you matter to me, but i–” he glances away for a second, almost too much, he thinks “–i don’t know how to let others do the same to me, even if it’s you, that didn’t come naturally. i’m sorry, y/n.” his knuckles are gentle against your skin, brushing away the tears that you didn’t realize started sliding down your cheeks.

the silence stretches, interrupted by your sniffles here and there. 

“talk to me.” he tucks the hair that is covering your face behind your ear. 

your voice is a pained quiet. “i was running away from you, afraid of what your answer could be. i was scared that you found me unworthy. i felt pathetic, yearning for your friendship if you didn’t feel the same way. but–” your throat tightens at your cowardice, realizing your own mistake.

“it could have been avoided if you just talked to me.” wakatoshi finishes your sentence for you.

“you’re a fucking hypocrite.” you retort, kicking his knee in pettiness. “don’t think you’re so easily forgiven.” and just like that he is forgiven. your heart once again safely tucked away in his hands, returned to its owner after weeks of being torn away bleeding and broken by yours. 

it’s unfair, really. the effortlessness it takes on his part to make you whole unknowingly. maybe you were born without a heart, given away to ushijima by fate. maybe he is meant to come into your life and give it back, to remind you that you are alive, and to live. 

you keep telling yourself that he is meant for more than you. which is the truth. but it is also because you are afraid of losing him forever.  

but he recognizes the way you deflect away from your own vulnerability. “make me beg for it, i’ll do anything to redeem myself.” you mean too much to me.

“anything?” you tap your chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “how about going to the tanabata festival in your kuromontsuki haori hakama?” 

you are trying to see how far he would go to satisfy your demands. usually people wear yukatas to summer festivals, the most casual traditional option, and the most comfortable one in the sweltering heat of summer. a kuromontsuki haori hakama is the highest rank of kimono for men and only worn for formal occasions like weddings and funerals. 

but you would kill to see him in one, and it doesn’t hurt to ask.

“that would be a little difficult… how about a haori hakama?” which is less formal than what you suggested, though enough that he will still stick out like a sore thumb in the crowd, but– “fine.” you wanted to see him in a full formal kimono. 

“i get the crispy ends of your katsu.” nod. “give me a piggyback ride home.” an eyebrow raise, but nod. “i want the only bottle of grape squash that you guys buy every single time.” nod. 

“no more keeping secrets from me.” 

“done.”

“i will have to think of more later, you’re currently on probation.” you narrow your eyes at him, gesturing with your hand, i’m watching you. he catches it deftly, getting all up in your space. 

your breath hitches as he comes eye to eye with you, only inches to spare. “i’m sorry. i’ll do better, i promise.” 

you hear his words, sure, but the thunderous beating of your heart is coming from every direction, deafening. in that moment, you forgot how to speak, tongue twisted in a way that cannot be undone. so you panic, feet kicking out instinctively. 

several things happen in quick succession. wakatoshi grunts, curling backwards in pain. the door bursts open as semi and tendo comes running in to defuse the situation. you sit there in shock. tendo starts cackling at the scene in front of him, tears shining in his eyes. 

“damn, one after another, y/n, you’re putting these boys down real hard.” he wipes his eyes with laughter.

“it was an accident!” 

“sure, sure, if you say so.” he slowly backs out of the room, having a distinctive feeling that you may want to land one on him too. 

“get back here, tendo satori! oi, where do you think you are going? you still need to dress toshi’s wounds.” you dash at him. 

“back to toshi now, are we? why don’t you do it yourself?” he snickers, running away.

semi shakes his head at the two of you, glancing at his captain who is still recovering from your kick in the nuts. he winces at the thought of it. “you good?”

ushijima looks towards where tendo now has an arm thrown over your shoulders, affectionately ruffling your hair, utterly unfazed by the way you are snapping at him. 

“i told you, i am not telling you! it defeats the purpose of what i said to that scum if i told you! get your dirty hands off of me.” you frown at the redhead, and then as if sensing his eyes on you, you point at ushijima. “you, don’t ever pick fights again even if i get dragged into it, it’s not worth it.” 

“but he picked a fight with ushijima-kun first.” 

“why, you brat. do you want to find out what dirty secrets i know about you?”

“wah, scary, y/n-chan. remind me to never get on your bad side.” 

you make a face at tendo, which ushijima finds adorable. his lips quirk in a smile at the scene unfolding in front of them, finally responding to semi’s earlier question. 

“yeah. yeah, i think so.”

“ushijima-kun, you’re down bad.”

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[adoremexxs]

What if…Rui and Zohakuten both had a crush on the reader? Would they hold a sort of competition? One up each other? Would their friendship become strained? What would they think if they both confessed and reader liked them both, would they be willing to be in a poly relationship? Have a good day/night! :}

Rivalry

this was actually hard to think abt

no warnings besides curse words

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.

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Rui had liked you for a long, long time. In fact, ever since he first saw you.

That’s why he befriended you so fast, clinging onto your side and making Zohakuten extremely jealous.

He was mad that his best friend had his attention on someone else other than him! Who was this person and how did they get Rui to be so obsessive?!

He didn’t understand it until he started hanging out with you.

You were so sweet and patient with him. It made him sick. Your voice coaxing him to tell him what’s wrong and comforting him. Now he knows why Rui likes you so much.

Rui often hung out with you. He basically ditched Zohakuten for you.

It left Zohakuten in a depressed mood and made him despise you even more. He hated how you made him feel relaxed and vulnerable and he hated that you strained his and Rui’s relationship.

He could clearly see that Rui liked you. A lot.

Especially when Rui started to post pictures of you and him on social media. Just little hang out photos without him. It made Zohakuten want to puke. He felt…discarded.

Rui also started to comment under your social media posts, being all too friendly.

He was touchy with you in person. You and Rui were inseparable. Until he had to go on vacation. He tried to get you to come but ain’t no way your parents are going to let you go on vacation with some boy!

So you were stuck with Zohakuten. You felt bad that you guys just left him out.

Zohakuten wasn’t very pleased with you. He kept himself distant from you at first until he kinda warmed up.

He took you to the waterpark with him and you tried to drown him.

It backfired. You guys also got screamed at by the lifeguards.

Rui had texted you throughout his entire vacation but when you wouldn’t respond, he would get a bit upset. He expected your full attention always. What could possibly have you so busy that you can’t answer him?

Zohakuten was the answer.

You came to realize that Zohakuten was a lot more fun than Rui. He set off illegal fireworks with you, run around Walmart and troll people. All Rui wanted to do was talk and sleep and try to get you to hold his hand all the time

Zohakuten was entertaining. He opened up to you a bit, talked about his family which surprised you. Only Rui really knows about Zohakuten’s family issues but Zohakuten felt comfortable enough to tell you.

You were honored.

Whenever Rui came back, you left Zohakuten out again. Or well, he did. Rui got mad whenever Zohakuten would try and say something to you and say something snarky to him. Zohakuten would usually keep his mouth shut because it’s his best friend. He doesn’t want to lose him. Until one day…

.

.

.

Rui was clinging onto you and Zohakuten had said something about physical appearance and Rui made the nastiest comment out of sheer jealousy.

“(Y/N), (Y/N), aren’t Zohakuten’s purple veins weird? He’s like some kind of alien.”

You frowned as Rui giggled, pulling you closer to him. You felt bad for Zohakuten.

You went to say something but you got interrupted.

“Rui, what the FUCK?!” Zohakuten’s face was twisted into an angry expression, far angrier than what you have seen. “You are not one to be judging how I look! You’re being fucking rude just because you like (Y/N). Well, guess what? I like them too and you can’t just be an asshole because you like them. You pushed me away these past 3 months and discard me like I’m some kind of ragdoll. I have feelings too, Rui!”

Zohakuten had screamed at him and caused people to look in your direction. Wow! This was too much to handle! Both of your best guy friends like you and are fighting over you!

“Like bro, if you came to me and told me that you like them, I would have let you have them,” Zohakuten frowns, resisting the overwhelming urge to sock his best friend in the damn face, “You don’t have to make me LOOK BAD because you want to seem better than me.”

Rui was dumbfounded. “Zohakuten, (Y/N) clearly likes me more-“

“YOU JUST MISSED THE WHOLE POINT!” Zohakuten was furious. He gets humiliated and now Rui doesn’t pay attention to the key points of his scolding.

“Why don’t we just ask (Y/N) who she wants to date?” Rui shrugs. He obviously knew it was going to be him. He had treated you the kindest and Zohakuten was…well, not the kindest person people knew.

“Dude. Are you fucking for real?”

“Yeah. (Y/N), which one of us do you like more?” Rui turns to you, giving you a dashing smile. It was his attempt to win you over and Zohakuten just looks at you in disbelief.

Your eyes dart back and forth between the two.

Who will you choose?

[skulduggery-pleasant-bp9]

Playing with a Coroner and a Detective is not wise - Skulduggery x Male!Reader Universe

WARNING!: Cursing, mention of murder, threatening AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!

Part 8 – The Coroner is ticked off

Everyone was silent for a little bit at M/n’s outburst. Stephanie turned to the Skeleton.

“I told you not that long ago that he HATES meeting new people that quickly. He is on edge and you really provoke it. Do you WANT him to snap ? That side is ugly.”, she asked Skulduggery.

“I apologize, Corrupted.”, Skulduggery said softly.

“Shove it up your boney ass, Skulkin. You better explain why you dragged us here, because they obviously don’t understand anything. Nor do they know anything. I don’t like them, I want to get out of here and never see them again. Mostly this Meritorius guy.”, M/n growled.

“He didn’t hurt you, Corrupted.”, Ghastly said softly.

“I don’t care if he hurt us or not, Ghastly ! The fact that he thinks everything is fucking easy ticks me off ! Who is HE to tell US if we join this world or not ?! He ain’t my Dad ! My Father died YEARS ago ! Nor is he my fucking Mom ! She is dead too ! I don’t give a flying what he wants !”, M/n yelled angered.

“Corrupted...”, Ghastly tried again.

“Remember what I told you in your shop, Ghastly ?! You understood ! This man obviously doesn’t ! He rather sends us to our fucking graves ! Hell no ! No way in hell am I going back to my old life, only to be murdered, by one of his out of control, freak accident mages ! He can fucking SHOVE it ! I ain’t fucking crazy !”

The Elders stared at M/n in shock. He was pissed.

“Before he losses the last bit of control he has, let me ask Skulduggery something.”, Crow said carefully, to not piss M/n off further.

Skulduggery perked up and looked at her, while M/n stayed silent, his glare never leaving Meritorius and the other two Elders. Then they started to ask him about any evidence about the truce being in danger, as he reported. He said that M/n and his Sister were the evidence, which made the Coroner even angrier. He explained that they got attacked twice by the same mage at the same night and he was after some key.

They asked about the key, but Skulduggery was avoiding the question and accused Serpine. They kept pressing for the key and he let out that they believe it might be for the Sceptre of Ancients, which didn’t make them believe him. They started to argue about it that Serpine was innocent and Gordon wasn’t murdered, nor the Sceptre exists. Skulduggery lost that argument obviously and M/n was very close to snap.

“As for these two, we hoped that they were very much on the edge of our world.”, Meritorius said.

“They won’t tell anyone.”, Skulduggery said quietly.

“That may be, but if they take one more step into our world, they might never go back. We wish that you think clearly about this, Skulduggery Pleasant. Think about, what that will mean.”

“Okay, I’ve had enough in this stupid shit. Talking about us like we aren’t even here ! Now listen here ‘Grand Mage plus extra luggage’ !”, M/n started outraged.

They stared at the boy, who pushed his Sister to Ghastly, who held her softly by the shoulders. M/n got closer to Meritorius and pointed a finger at him.

“YOU nor Pleasant have a say in what me and MY Sister choose to do. I think you were deaf a second ago. WE got ATTACKED and almost KILLED TWICE by one of YOUR dumb MAGES ! He was sent by someone he called his MASTER, that little kinky shithole ! He was ready to KILL us and I LIVE in that DAMNED house ! If I go back NOW, that Pisshead, whoever it is, will pay me a visit one day and KILL me SUCCESSFULLY ! YOU can’t keep your own fucking MAGES in check and expect US to go back, forget about everything AND DIE ?! What in the ever loving fucking hell is WRONG with you, man ?! Either you are too old to give a shit about this, or you are just plain stupid ! Sure we go back to our lives and get fucking KILLED thanks to YOU ! How about you fucking shove it ?!”

Everyone stared at him in shock and silence.

“How about YOU go back to YOUR normal life, without Magic and forget about everything, huh ?! See how you like it ! I don’t care if you are a Grand Mage, someone who is that stupid, doesn’t deserve MY respect ! You have to earn that, old man, and obviously you have a VERY long way to go ! You want us to go back ?! THEN FIND THAT FUCKING MASTER AND GET THEM KILLED ! Otherwise, I will NEVER go back ! You have three hours to find him, if you don’t, I AM FUCKING STAYING, MOTHERFUCKER !”

Ghastly went pale and Stephanie did too. Tome and Crow were in absolute shock and Meritorius looked beyond taken aback.

“YOU HEAR ME ?! YOU FINALLY HEAR ME, BITCH ?! THREE HOURS ! YOU DON’T FIND THE MASTER UNTIL THEN, I WILL STAY IN THIS FUCKING WORLD ! NOT MY FAULT, YOU ARE INCOMPETENT, TO KEEP YOUR MAGES IN CHECK ! I RATHER STAY ALIVE, THANK YOU FOR ASKING AND CARING !!!”, M/n screamed in his face, outraged.

Then he took heavy, fast breaths.

“To tell ME and MY SISTER what to do...WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE ?! You heard that we were threatened TWICE already and you insist that we go back and DIE while that PISSHEAD it still out there and walking FREE ! You say MY UNCLE WASN’T MURDERED ! Yet you never saw human doctors do their sloppy work ! They could have been paid to lie and you DARE to CLAIM that there is NO EVIDENCE ?! How about you FUCKING SHOVE IT, OLD MAN ?! YOU KNOW JACKSHIT ! We aren’t in the 18th Century anymore, where everyone did their job without any errors ! Wake up from that belief and that fast ! Get a reality check, you hear ?!”

“Let me to him...he is gone. He will say something he will feel bad about for a while...”, Stephanie told Ghastly.

“You let my Sister close to me and you are the next person I will scream at, Ghastly !”, M/n threatened.

Ghastly kept a firm grip on Stephanie.

“I am not gone, Sister, I am just rightfully pissed off with this ignorant Mage in front of my fucking face ! If I would be gone, I would have beaten the crap out of him ! Like that fucking psycho mage that DARED to lay his NASTY PAWS on you !”, M/n snarled.

His glare never left the Grand Mage.

“I went apeshit as that fucker hurt my Sister. The Pisshead broke in and tried to KILL us. I was ready to murder him and he didn’t see that one coming, you hear me ? I don’t care if that Serpine twat is the Master or not, all I care about is that the Master is getting killed. And if you won’t do anything about it, then I fucking will. NO ONE attacks my Sister and gets away ALIVE. YOU don’t believe in the Sceptre, I say, we at least follow any lead we fucking HAVE. It is better than nothing. The rumor is going around that Serpine looks for the Sceptre and if that is true, you should take it at least a bit into consideration, if you are the fools with a painted smile or if he is. Rumors are also a lead and I better follow it, otherwise we just sit around, twiddle our thumbs and unexpectedly DIE. Who cares if it is the Sceptre, maybe it is a cover up and you honestly sit on your asses and WAIT for something bad to happen ?! How many Humans and Mages will you let perish, until you wake up ?! How many human deaths will you put under a rug and claim, died of natural causes, to make yourself feel better about and so you can sleep at night ?! Look me in my fucking eyes and tell me if I am joking ! Tell me if I am taking your Bullshit ! Tell me what you see, ‘Grand Mage’ ! Go on !”, M/n dared Meritorius.

The Elders saw a fire in M/n’s eyes that told them that he is more than pissed off. But that fire said more than that. He was determined, protective and he doesn’t hate them. He fears for everyone’s safety. This boy, saw more than they can imagine. Then M/n looked at Tome.

“And YOU give me a VERY bad gut feeling. I better not figure out that you are involved with anything bad, otherwise I will go batshit on your Bitchass. Capiche ?”

Tome nodded quickly.

“Good.”, M/n said in a brat mood.

He looked at Eachan again.

“How come Ghastly understands me and you, someone who is way older than him, doesn’t ? Is it your pride or your stupidity ? My Uncle didn’t die of natural causes. I know so, but if you want evidence, I will inspect the body myself. I ain’t a pussy. But then you have the right to shut your mouth, about us and joining your world, and you better think of a damn good apology, for claiming that my Uncle died of natural causes at his young age. He wasn’t eighty for fucks sake.”

At that he turned around and went to his Sister. He stood two feet away from her and then opened his arms.

“Hug. Now. I’m pissed off.”, M/n said with a pout.

Stephanie smiled softly, shook her head and Ghastly let her go. She instantly pulled him into a tight hug and he hugged her back.

“One day you will get in trouble with all these insults you throw when you are angry or stressed.”, she muttered.

“I will have it in control soon, but he pissed me off beyond reason. Like honestly, who is the Crack head here ? Me or him and his extra luggage ?”, M/n asked with a huff, feeling his blood cooling down and his anger rapidly dropping.

Skulduggery looked at M/n and the boy knew the Detective wanted to give his mustard to this.

“Go on, you bag of bones. I don’t give a fuck.”, M/n said.

Skulduggery turned to the Elders and opened his jaw.

“And that was a pissed off Corrupted. I hope you learned to not piss him off again, cause that was actually scarring to witness. He was not joking around.”

“He sure wasn’t...”, Morwenna agreed.

“Noted.”, Sagacious answered quickly.

Meritorius stayed silent. Then he sighed and looked at M/n. Stephanie knew he wanted to tell M/n something, so she parted from him and turned him around, to face the Mage.

“I...deeply apologize, that I offended you, Corrupted. I just thought it was better for you two to return to your normal lives.”

“Meritorius, with all due respect, even though you don’t deserve it from me yet, my ‘Normal’ life is more fucked over than this world could be. Murder plots and Magic ? Is that all you can offer as threats ? What about crazy, psychopathic Scientists ? What about people that snatch children away and use them for their own experiments or pleasure and later on you find their corpses somewhere, mangled beyond recognition ? What about psychos that would love to use you for their own gains ? Ever thought about that shit ? The normal life, is just as fucked up as this one probably is. Maybe even worse.”

The Elders stared at M/n in shock. The Teenage boy gave a sad smile.

“Has its perks when you’ve already seen it all and heard it all.”

“Oh my...”, Morwenna said softly.

M/n shrugged his shoulders.

“Humans are just as much Monsters, as Mages with bad intentions are. The only difference ? Mages have Magic at their disposal. Humans have everything, but that.”

Stephanie hugged her Brother from behind, worried for him.

“Now I would like to leave and follow any lead Skulduggery has, so we can start to rule out stuff and make theories what the key is supposed to do, where it is and what it is supposed to unlock.”

“Of course. Thank you for coming and be careful, yes ? Please think about this very clearly if you want to stay after this is over.”, Meritorius replied.

“I already decided. What my Sister wants, is up to her. I will not influence her to follow my lead or to listen to me. She can choose her own path. I am not her Mother, nor her Father.”

With that M/n left the room, Stephanie said her bye and followed after her Brother quickly. Ghastly and Skulduggery followed quickly after them.

“Can we now go to the vault ? And next time you pull shit like this, Skulduggery Pleasant, I will have your skull and lock it away. Let’s see how you will talk with no head and jaw.”, M/n said with a sour mood.

“Of course, let’s go.”, Ghastly replied.

“I understood, Corrupted...”, Skulduggery muttered.

[elytrafemme]

ranting about my psyche etc. NO RBs. under the cut for the girlies who want to psychoanalyze me

i think the worst traits about myself, the kind that aren’t very easy to say because they’re just objectively awful things, come to light whenever there’s a conflict with people around me. it’s that and abandonment, but abandonment isn’t so bad because it’s just me. like. threatening to kill myself, proposing increasingly absurd relationship dynamics just to get around a breakup? that time i told my girlfriend to her face that she could cheat on me so long as she never left? it hurts other people but at the end it falls back on me. but when it comes to other people’s conflicts my brain doesn’t know how to take it. i’m so used to bending over backwards and tolerating and always having the safeguard of knowing i’m a likable person, that privilege, that like. how am i supposed to handle a friendship ending? i would fight to keep that friendship alive no matter what. i would let it burn to the ground and not think twice. for the most part i’m not seen as a serial relationship ruiner because i don’t burn things down in a fight as much as i just silently step away, the crushes i’ve had and destroyed in my brain, the entire friend groups i’ve lost. i’m always able to find new people and i think that must be so fucking frustrating, because people are cruel and not everyone can do that. but i know how to be loved, i just can turn it on in my brain, that’s something that near death and revival can teach a person. i don’t compromise all my traits and i can’t befriend everyone, but nobody hates me. so for all my interpersonal flaws, they are really not so consequential, and maybe that gives me the liberty to be angry at people whenever their relationships fail. it’s so obvious from a spectator’s glance-- you never communicated, you two were incompatible, et cetera. for me it goes deeper: you aren’t clever enough to see the similarities, you aren’t good enough to respect them, you failed at this simple task and ruined everything and you will always, forever, ruin everything. it’s all fire-hot rage for me it always is. i never know how to explain who i am to people because it was very sudden-- as my sister put it, one day i woke up and simply stopped being depressed. and that’s how it was. dissociative break, psychotic episode, whatever it was, i just... became better. a mature person, a confident one. i don’t entirely get it myself but clearly it makes me superior in some ways, i guess, because other people didn’t have that. i had a clean cut in my life, before and after. and i see everything now. and it makes me angrier. because even the way i am, i’m still afraid of losing. i could have anything, and i’m still afraid of losing. 

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

SKZ DRABBLE-OT8

The one where you say some things you don't mean. And some things you do.

Or the twelfth installment of the SKZ!pack prequel series.

Tags: SKZ, Stray Kids, Stay, OT8, Skz!pack, Skz!abo, omegaverse, poly!skz, skz x you, skz x reader, pack!prequel, SKZ!pack prequel, prequel series, bang chan, lee minho, seo changbin, han jisung, hwang hyunjin, lee felix, kim seungmin, yang jeongin, y/n, skz angst, skz fluff

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Title: You Win Some, You Lose Some

“So, I hear (Y/N)’s not talking to you.” Yeosang slides into the seat beside you at the library table, a semi-amused look on his face as he glances across from where you sit to Chanbin on the opposite side.

“I’m not.” You answer immediately, voice sharp, without looking up, scribbling a little more furiously as you write down your notes. 

You bite back the urge to snap at Changbin, ask him why the hell he’s here anyway-at a biology study group of all places-but you already know the answer, because Seungmin is here, so of course he’s here. 

The notion triggers something bitter and hot to begin bubbling in the pit of your stomach, which is stupid. 

You like Seungmin. You like Changbin-might even love him actually-so why does seeing the two of them spend so much time together, joined at the hip, make you want to simultaneously gouge your eyeballs out from irritation and sob forlornly in the shower all at once? 

“She’s just mad because I tried to set her up with my friend in the production department. She’ll get over it.” Changbin offers casually, as if you’re being ridiculous and you’ll realize it soon enough. 

You bite down so hard on your tongue that you taste copper. 

Yeosang glances sidelong at you nervously, and you try your best to force your suddenly sour scent to even out. 

“I’m mad because you’re a terrible person and an even more terrible boyfriend.” You quip back quietly, your voice wavering with barely controlled anger, but you don’t look at him still, gaze laser focused on the page of notes before you, even though the words aren’t even computing in your mind anymore. 

“God, I said I was sorry, okay?” Changbin exclaims, and you see him throw his hands up from the corner of your eye, clearly exasperated. It just makes you angrier. “I’m sorry, (Y/N), is that what you want to hear? For the fifth time?” 

Seungmin is silently watching you now from across the table, you can feel his eyes on you, but you can’t look up, not now, not when your eyes are starting to water and your lip is starting to tremble. 

You won’t give Changbin that satisfaction. 

“No.” You manage to get out, and this time, you raise your gaze to look at him, and he holds it, your eyes flashing with barely concealed fury. You stare him down, and will the tears back from whence they came. “I want you to stop coming home from class smelling like him. I want your hoodies to smell like you again and not like some stupid rainstorm. I want to walk into your dorm and not be reminded every goddamn day of your stupid alpha friend who you so kindly offered me to-like meat on a platter, without even telling me, mind you-just so you could get your rocks off with Seungmin easier!” 

Maybe that makes it all worse, that Changbin had wanted to distract Chan, distract him with you, so that he could spend more time with Seungmin, away from you without you. 

You hadn’t meant to let it all out-not here, not in the library, not in front of everyone-but it was too late now, the air frosty, and so you hold Changbin beneath your gaze, never wavering, as everyone else stares between the two of you apprehensively, as if just waiting for one of you to leap across the table and strangle the other. 

You might do it. 

The tension in the air is so thick you could cut it with a knife, and finally when the silence has dragged on for several moments more, Jisung shifts in his chair, smoothing his hands over his open book, and chuckles awkwardly. 

“C’mon. It can’t be that bad, right? I mean-” He gestures to Changbin. “His smell is kinda overpowering, the smoke should overpower the rain or whatever in another day or two, and it’s not like you can constantly smell it-” 

You whirl on him so fast that his words fall to a stop instantly, lips still slightly parted, eyes going wide. 

“You wouldn’t understand.” You snarl out, and before you can stop yourself, “You’re just a beta.” 

As soon as the words leave your lips, you regret them. 

Everyone at the table has gone completely silent, utterly and impossibly still.

“(Y/N)-” Hyunjin gasps out in shock, his voice airy, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. 

“Fuck.” You say, Jisung still staring at you with impossibly wide eyes, as you trip over your words in an effort to get them out faster. “Jisung, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-” 

“No.” 

Your words die in your throat, as Jisung pushes back his chair and slams his textbook shut, no longer looking at you. 

You can see the hurt and betrayal on his open features from across the table. 

“You’ve made yourself loud and clear. I get it.” 

“Jisung-” You stand up now too, reaching out a hand, but he doesn’t even look at you, the scent of clean laundry growing bitter in the air between the two of you as he shrugs his backpack on without even looking in your direction. 

He ignores you completely-ignores your outstretched hand, the desperation in your voice, the wordless apology-and turns on his heel without another word, leaving the library. 

“Fuck.” You repeat, harsher this time, frustrated with yourself, slumping back down into your chair, reaching up to shove a hand through your hair. 

You glance around at the others at your table, silent, accusatory, and swallow hard. 

“I really didn’t mean it like that.” 

Hyunjin sighs, long and hard, and then carefully reaches out a hand, covering yours with his own as he gives you a sympathetic glance. 

“We know. You were upset, and sometimes, when we’re upset, we say things we don’t mean in the moment.” He hesitates, mulling over his words. “But Jisungie looked pretty hurt by what you said-intentioned or not-so you should probably apologize sooner rather than later.” 

You nod, biting your lip. “I know.” 

Changbin lets out a long breath between his teeth, harsh and final, and you try to ignore the way his hand, suddenly on top of Seungmin’s, makes the bitter bile rise up again in the back of your throat. 

You’ll deal with that later. 

“Listen.” When the other alpha speaks, his voice is gruff, harsh, and his tone drags all the repressed tears back to the surface. “You can be as mad at me as you want-I get it-but don’t drag everyone else into it too.” 

You suck in a shaky breath, and Hyunjin’s fingers curl around your own in a silent show of support. 

You feel small, and weak, and utterly unsure of what to do next. 

You stand, not looking at Changbin, keeping your head ducked, and shove your papers into your backpack, hoping no one has noticed the tears now dripping down your cheeks. 

“I have to go find Jisung.” 

*******

Minho throws open the door to Jisung’s apartment before you finish your first knock, and you can’t say you’re surprised. 

Of course he’d already be here. Of course he’d look like he wants to throw you through a wall, murderous rage rolling off of him in waves. 

It’s his mate. 

And you deserve it. All of it. 

You just catch a brief glimpse of Jisung-curled into a ball, eyes red, cheeks swollen-on the couch, before Minho is blocking your view, shouldering the door almost closed, his eyes flashing violently, dark and dangerous. 

“What did you do?” 

You’ve never heard Minho sound so scary before-voice eerily calm, quiet, level-and a shiver runs down your spine, the scent of amber, heightened and so spicy it makes your eyes water, clogging the air. 

“I-” You start to say, and Minho looks like he wants to rip your throat out merely at the sound of your voice in the tense silence. 

“After everything I told you. After everything he’s been through-” Minho takes a menacing step toward you, and you back up on reflex, your back hitting the wall on the opposite side of the hall. 

“I didn’t mean to-” 

“You, of all people, I thought you’d get it. I thought you’d understand.” Minho rips into you without mercy, not even pausing for breath, still taking measured, threatening steps toward you, his eyes flashing with anger. 

The burning, lingering amber filling your throat makes you want to cough. 

“Everyone sang your praises, especially your little boyfriends, especially Jisung-” Minho’s eyes darken, and his lips pull back into a snarl, teeth flashing, sharp canines on display. “-oh, she’s so amazing, so inclusive, doesn’t even see subgender, would never take advantage, even though she’s an alpha-” 

He’s never looked more wolf-like, more like  a predator, than at this moment. And you’re frightened. 

You hold up your hands, palms out, as if that will stop the angry, stalking wolf coming on his warpath right for you, and try again, even though it’s futile. 

“Minho, I swear, I didn’t mean to-” 

“I should’ve never trusted you with him.” Minho growls out, his words like hot, pointed daggers to your heart. “He’s fragile, and I knew a group of bumbling, idiotic assholes like the members of your pack-” He spits out the word, as if it’s bitter, disgusting, on his tongue. “-could never be counted on to protect him. Not from everyone else, and definitely not from themselves.” 

Something angry and white hot stirs in the pit of your stomach at his words, and suddenly you’re straightening, meeting his gaze eye to eye, your own teeth bared. 

“My pack had nothing to do with this. This is on me, and me alone and if you’d just let me apologize-” 

Minho lunges toward you, snapping his teeth inches from your throat, and it takes everything inside of you not to flinch. 

Your wolf growls-a low warning-and immediately focuses in on the other alpha, crouched and ready for a fight. 

“Why would I let you apologize? Why would I ever let you see him ever again after what you did?” 

“Because.” You reply simply, an eerie calm descending over you as you stare him down, teeth nearly at your throat. “Jisung cares about us. And you care about Jisung. And keeping him away from his pack-” Minho’s eyes darken dangerously at the word, but you continue on doggedly. “-is going to be worse for him than anything I might do or say in my apology.” 

“You’re not our pack.” Minho seethes between clenched teeth, but he takes a step back, and his teeth are no longer grazing the skin of your throat. 

You try not to let him hear your sigh of relief. 

“Really?” You arch a brow, and you know you’re poking the bear at this point, but Minho’s words have caused a bitter taste in your mouth, and you’re tired, and you really just want to see Jisung. “Do you want me to break the news to Jisung then?” 

Something dangerous flashes across Minho’s expression at your bold words, and you think he’s going to lunge across the distance between you again, and maybe this time actually crush your windpipe, but a voice from behind the two of you freezes you both in your tracks. 

“Hyung. Don’t.”

Jisung is standing in the cracked doorway, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, his dark, wide eyes flicking between you and Minho-back and forth and back again-his cheeks tearstained, skin swollen from crying. 

You immediately feel your heart drop into your shoes. 

“Jisung.” You say, stepping around Minho, who surprisingly, doesn’t make a move to stop you. “I am so sorry-” 

He doesn’t meet your gaze, scuffing his toe along the jam of the door, fingers clenching the blanket tighter around his frame. 

“Let me ask you something.” 

Jisung’s firm tone has you trailing your words, staring at him in silent shock, as he finally raises his head and meets your gaze, lips trembling slightly, but expression strong. 

You resist the urge to take another step toward him and pull him into your arms. 

“Anything.” 

“Did you mean it?” 

“No, god, no.” You stumble over your own words in your haste to get them out, and Jisung finally drops his eyes from your own. 

“Okay good.” 

It doesn’t feel like forgiveness, but it has the finality of it, because Jisung’s shoulders relax slightly as the words leave his lips, and Minho’s gaze, while still boring holes into your back, feels a little less like a ten on the homicide scale and more like an eight point five. 

“I really am sorry.” You manage to get out, and Jisung lifts his head to look at you once more, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips now, rounding out the fullness of his cheeks. 

It’s not enough, but you’ll take it. 

“I know. Thank you for apologizing. Sorry Changbin-hyung dragged you into his shit.” Jisung shoots a sharp glance over your shoulder to Minho now, his brow arching. “And sorry hyung almost ripped your throat out with his teeth. He’s just protective.” 

Minho scoffs, the sound more like a low growl in the back of his throat, and you swallow nervously. 

“It’s okay. I get it. I would do the same thing for you, Sungie.” 

“I’m not apologizing.” Minho huffs out, crossing the hall to once more stand beside Jisung in the open doorway, his dark glare still on you, his hand coming down to rest protectively on the beta’s blanket clad shoulder. 

“Nobody asked you to.” You quip back before you can stop yourself, earning yourself a deeper glower. 

“Good.” Minho snaps in response, because let’s face it, neither of you are very good at apologies. 

Jisung sighs and rolls his eyes, shoving Minho further into the apartment, breaking the tension of your current glaring contest. 

“Put your hackles down, hyung. Everything’s fine. She apologized. We’re good.” 

Minho chuffs another low growl of annoyance in the back of his throat and you roll your eyes in response. 

Jisung sighs again, longer suffering this time, and looks sufficiently put out as he regards the two of you with something akin to blatant exasperation on his features.

 “God. Alphas.” 

******

“Why are you pouting?” Changbin’s exasperated tone can be heard over the sound of the door opening, then clicking shut once again, and your wolf perks its ears at the footfall of his steps coming toward the bed, muted by the thick, old, drab carpet that adorns every dorm. 

You don’t raise your head, instead, burying your face deeper into the soft recesses of your pillow, only proving his point, even as you retort back, voice petulant and muffled, “I’m not pouting.” 

Your bed dips beneath his weight, and you fight the urge to look up at him, the smell of smoke starting to creep into the edges of your nostrils now with his presence. 

“Sure looks like it.” 

You scoff, and resist the impulse to shove him off the narrow twin bed. 

“Shut up.”

“Make me.” 

You know he’s taunting you on purpose, goading you to get you to respond, but you’re nothing if not weak, because even though you’re aware of what he’s doing, you rise to the bait anyway, turning your head slightly to glare at him from the confines of your pillow, glowering up at him through the mess of your hair. 

“Get out of my room.” 

“No.” Changbin replies simply, folding his arms over his chest as he holds your gaze-steady, unbothered. “Not until we talk this out like adults.” 

You groan and bury your face back into the safety of the pillow once more. 

“God, I really hate how mature Seungmin’s made you.” 

You hear him huff a humorless laugh, and then he tugs at the pillow, trying to pull it from your grasp, but you resist. 

He sighs. 

“C’mon, (Y/N). Look at me.” 

“No.” You shake your head, because staring into the dark, warm comfort of the pillow is far better than having to face your boyfriend, and the serious talk that lies ahead. 

“Seriously?” You can hear Changbin rolling his eyes now, and his voice takes on a hint of annoyance. “Is this about Sungie?” 

“No.” You repeat again stubbornly. “I apologized. We’re good.” A beat of silence, and then you mutter out, “Minho still wants to kill me, I’m like ninety nine percent sure, but I’ll win him over eventually with a few well placed americanos.” 

“So it’s still about Chan then.” 

“Oh my god.” You blurt out, irritated now, as you flop over on your back to face him, and he looks caught off guard by the sudden movement, by the annoyed scowl on your face. “You’re so stupid sometimes it’s obnoxious!” 

His jaw drops, and something akin to flustered annoyance colors his features at your blunt words. 

“Okay, rude, now wait just a minute-” 

“No!” You sit up, pointing sternly at him, the tip of your finger brushing his breastbone, your gaze fierce. “Listen, you idiot, this isn’t about Chan, or Christopher, or whatever his stupid producer name is, okay? It’s. Never. Been. About. Him.”

“CB97.” Changbin mutters beneath his breath sullenly, but you bulldoze right over him. 

“It’s not about him.” You repeat heatedly, eyes flashing, and Changbin swallows-Adam's apple bobbing-as the air grows chilly, harsh, with the scent of crisp frost. 

“It’s not.” You insist once more, and your voice drops, somewhere softer, somewhere more hurt rather than angry. “It’s about the fact that you used me as a distraction, so you that could spend time with Seungmin-away from me.” 

Understanding dawns in the dark caramel of Changbin’s eyes now, and his expression grows serious. 

“I-” He seems to consider his words beneath the weight of your stare, and he swallows again, looking apologetic now. “-didn’t consider that you’d take it that way. That wasn’t ever my intention.” 

“I know.” You sigh, feeling the anger bleed away now, the tiredness set in. “But it hurt regardless.” 

“I’m sorry.” Changbin offers flatly, his expression grim, lips pulled into a thin line, and you offer him your hand, palm up, a sort of silent peace offering. 

He takes it, lacing his fingers in your own. 

“I know.” You repeat again, just for good measure, and give him the hint of a smile. “Sorry for calling you stupid.” 

Changbin’s mouth twists into the start of a humorless smirk, and he lets out a self-deprecating sort of chuckle. 

“No. You were right. I deserved that.”

He sighs and squeezes your fingers. 

“Sorry for trying to set you up with Chan-hyung.” Changbin huffs another little laugh at himself, and rolls his eyes. “If we’re being honest, I just think he’s a really cool, nice guy, and I honestly thought the two of you would get along. That’s all.” 

You smirk knowingly. “Seo Changbin. Do you have a crush on him?” 

Changbin goes bright red and stutters over his next words. 

“What? No! That’s stupid-” 

“Okay okay.” You laugh and decide he’s had enough mercilessly teasing to make up for his mistake. “Just wondering.” You arch a brow and decide one more low shot won’t kill him. “He is pretty hot. But CB97? Really?” 

Changbin sulks. “It’s a cool name.” 

You consider him for a moment, and something creeps to the front of your mind. 

“Wait. Wait.” 

Changbin suddenly looks like he wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole. 

A wicked grin spreads across your lips as you regard him, fidgeting nervously beneath your suddenly smug gaze. 

“Do you have a producer name?” 

Changbin mutters something under his breath, and you lean toward him, into his space, eyes pinning him down. 

“What was that, baby boy? I didn’t quite hear you.” The tips of his ears are so red now that they look like they would glow in the dark. 

“SpearB.” 

“Oh my god.” 

Changbin glances at you, brow furrowed into a glare, and you reach out to tap beneath his chin with your finger, grinning now. 

“That’s so cute! You and your buddies in the music department have nicknames for each other?” 

You’re cackling now, and Changbin snaps at your finger with his teeth, sharp canines flashing, as you narrowly dodge the annoyed attack. 

“God, that’s so adorably gay!” 

“They’re the pen names we use on our tracks! It’s a requirement if you want to be taken seriously by recording studios, every great music producer and composer has one!” 

“Sure. Okay. Whatever you say, SpearB.” 

“I take back my apology.” “Nuh uh. No take backs. Now. Or ever.” 

Changbin groans and falls back onto your bed, all flushed skin and exasperated annoyance, and you flop down on top of him with a shit eating grin, poking at his red cheeks with persistent fingers. 

“I’m seriously gonna let Minho kill you. I’ll just watch as he chops your body into tiny little pieces in his bathtub and flushes all the evidence down the dorm toilets. And then when the cops ask me if I know anything, I’ll deny everything.” 

“Psh. You think Minho’s gonna dirty his hands like that? No way. He’s too much of a neat freak for something that messy. If anything, he’ll just pay someone to hit me with their car, and watch it all from a nice cozy corner of his favorite coffee shop, iced americano in hand.” 

“Touche.” A brief moment of thoughtful silence, then, “God, he’s scary.” 

You scoff. 

“You’re telling me.” You pause, considering. “But on the same hand, for whatever reason, he’s somehow scary in a way that makes me instantly and immediately want to beg him to fuck me stupid, you know?”

“Completely understandable.” 

You nod, and he offers you his hand, which you shake with an attitude of faux, serious agreement.

“Glad we’re on the same page.” 

*******

“Thanks for meeting me here.” 

Chan slides into the chair across the table from you, and you immediately bury your nose in your coffee as the smell of petrichor invades all your senses. 

Damn him. 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to come, but somehow, Changbin convinced me.” 

He looks appropriately apologetic as he unwinds the scarf from around his neck and shrugs off his light jacket, and you almost feel a little bad for the cold tone of your voice, almost. 

“Yeah, we kind of got off on the wrong foot, huh?” He rubs at the back of his neck in a sort of awkward gesture, and your gaze is unwittingly drawn to the forest green nail polish adorning his nails. 

Damn him. 

You huff out a sigh and motion to the half drunk coffee in front of you, then to the empty space before him. 

“Do you want anything?” 

“Ah.” Chan suddenly seems to remember that you’re sitting in a coffee shop, and he shakes his head with the start of a rueful smile. “I’m fine, thank you.” 

You arch a brow and stare him down as you take another long sip of your own americano. 

“What, don’t tell me you’re one of those fanatics who doesn’t believe in coffee or caffeine.” 

Chan laughs, relaxing slightly now, and you bite back the hint of a smile that threatens to curve your own lips. 

“Ah, no, that’s not it.” 

There it is again, the slight drawl of self amusement in his tone, the rubbing of his palm across his neck, beneath the curtain of his curls, the flash of green on his fingers. 

He shrugs, a casual gesture, and offers you a real smile now, dimples flashing. 

“I don’t drink coffee. Nothing against it, I just don’t like it.” 

Funny, I don’t like you, you think sourly, and have to repress the smug smile that threatens at the bitter, fleeting thought. 

“Hmm.” You hum, somewhat patronizing, under your breath in response instead, taking another longer than necessary sip of your own coffee. “How original of you.” 

Chan sighs now, placing his hands palm down on the table, long fingers splayed, and meets your gaze once more. 

“Look. I get the feeling you don’t particularly like me. And I’m sorry if it was anything I did or said that caused that reaction. Consider this my official apology.” 

His words, and the sincerity behind them, catch you off guard, and you stare at him for several long moments, until he’s shifting uncomfortably beneath your blank gaze, clearing his throat. 

“Okay, so I’ll take that as a confirmation-” “Changbin.” You blurt abruptly, interrupting him, and he stares at you like you’ve grown a second head, confusion written clearly across his face now. 

“Changbin-?” He repeats questioningly, as if not sure what you’re getting at.

“Oh. Sorry.” You can’t resist, your voice turning a little biting, as you air quote and say somewhat sarcastically, “‘SpearB’ is what you know him as, right?” 

Chan looks caught off guard for the second time in as many minutes, but now there’s a slight flush dusting the tan skin of his cheeks. 

“He told you about that?” 

You ignore his question, forging forward once more, already on the attack. 

“Changbin. SpearB. My shithead boyfriend. He goes by many names. But everyone can agree he’s an absolute dumbass. And I’m sorry he dragged you into all of this.” 

It feels weird, apologizing to Chan, and by the shocked look of surprise on his face, he feels the same way. 

You take another gulp from your coffee, and try not to meet the gaze of the alpha sitting across from you. 

“Anyway-” You clear your throat, reaching for your backpack and lobbing your now empty coffee cup into the nearest trash can. “If that’s all, I need to get going-” 

Chan stands up when you do, and it catches you off guard enough that you meet his stare head on without thinking. 

The caramel flecks in the depths of his irises has you backpedaling immediately. 

“He didn’t drag me into anything.” 

You stare at him. 

“What?” 

Chan blushes, but goes on doggedly, holding your gaze. 

“He talks about you all the time. You and Hyunjin and-” He considers for a moment, looking like he’s trying to remember and failing, and then keeps going regardless. “-the others-and I asked him to show me pictures one day. Of all of you. Just purely out of curiosity.” 

He rubs at the back of his neck once more, and you see where Changbin picked up the habit. 

The corners of his lips curl up into the start of a self-deprecating, somewhat embarrassed smile, and he huffs out a sort of harsh sounding laugh-exhale through his nose when he looks at you once more. 

“I saw your picture and I just knew I had to meet you.” 

You stare at him, open mouthed, and before you can stop yourself, bark out a shocked sound that middles between a laugh and a snorted scoff. 

“Bullshit.” 

“No really.” Chan grins ruefully now. “It sounds stupid, but it’s true. I asked Changbin to introduce us, but uh-” He heaves a sigh and a shrug. “-seems like I left a bad first impression.” 

You arch a brow. “You think?” 

Chan chuckles. “Sorry.” He holds out a hand, as sort of a peace making gesture, palm outstretched. “Maybe we can try again?” 

You study him for a moment, and then press your palm into his own, lightly, only for the briefest of seconds. 

You force yourself not to look at the green adorning his fingertips as they curl around your own. 

“Maybe.” You offer noncommittally, pulling back from him just as quickly as you’d approached, slinging on your backpack and already heading toward the door. “I’ll think about it.” 

“That’s all I’m asking.” Chan calls out after you, and you can hear the grin in his voice, even beneath the strong twang of his stupid accent. 

You wave without looking back. 

“See ya around, CB97.” You bite back a smile as you push open the door of the coffee shop. “And tell your buddy SpearB that he doesn’t have to sleep at the studio anymore.”

************************************************************************

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[mypoisonedvine]

𝗹𝗶𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 || (very dark) 70s!Bucky x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: he tried to be sympathetic to your cause, he really did, but he couldn’t just let you get away with disrespecting him like that.  

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.4k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: smut (noncon, plus breeding kink and tons of degradation, like very heavy degradation, and multiple orgasms/overstimulation), misogyny, a bit of dumbification, housewife kink, ‘sir’ kink (brief), choking, implied anal, spitting (not on the reader, unfortunately lmao), quite a bit more than period-typical sexism, awful awful awful this fic is absolutely awful

                            Brooklyn, 1970.

Bucky’s mornings were sacred.  He had his rituals: showering, cooking breakfast, reading the paper and having his first drink and cigarette of the day, all before he left for work.

But throughout this entire week, his mornings had been ruined by the stupid fucking protest in the park just outside his window.  And to think he’d actually paid more for an apartment with a view of the park— he hadn’t realized then that the “view” was gonna be a bunch of hippies creating awful music and an unbearable smell that left his whole apartment reeking of reefer if he dared to open his window.

Attempting to ignore it for a week only made him more resentful with each passing day.  Each time he figured the crowd would surely leave soon or at least be quiet for the night, they seemed to somehow get louder just to spite him.

He probably should've waited until he was a bit less agitated to go down and try to bargain with you, but he stormed down there instead and tapped you on the shoulder when his presence alone wasn't enough to distract you from your incessant chanting.

“Would you consider being quiet?" he asked firmly.  "I have to work in the morning and—”

“We won’t be quiet until women have equal treatment under the eyes of society and the law,” you interrupted to explain condescendingly, shocking him with your icy tone.  He could hardly believe your attitude, in fact he couldn’t remember any woman speaking to him that way in his life: so far, he wasn’t enjoying it.

“I just thought you could be a little more respectful,” Bucky shot back, even more stern.  “You’re not making anyone wanna support your movement by acting entitled and inconveniencing everyone.”

“I’m sorry the revolution is inconvenient for you,” you replied, but it didn’t sound much like an apology. 

He wanted to say more but you blew him off and disappeared into the crowd, leaving him confused and irritated and livid.  Up until now he had been quietly skeptical about all this talk of liberation but now he saw it for the poison it really was.  A girl like you— who could've been a real looker with some willingness to try and a better attitude— talking to a man like him with so much hate and over what, a polite request?

This could not be tolerated; he couldn't let you get away with acting like that.  And lucky for you, he was exactly the guy you needed to teach you your lesson.

The good thing about hippies high on shrooms is they aren’t the most observant.  When he returned to the demonstration area the next night, he was able to grab you roughly and pull you back from the crowd with almost no trouble at all, dragging you into an empty alley and clamping his hand down over your mouth as your eyes went wide and your throat vibrated with silent screams.

“Shh, shh,” he soothed against your ear, “whatcha fightin’ for?”

He liked the way it felt to have you squirming against his grasp, using all your strength and not even getting close to escaping.  

“How does it feel to know I can do anything I want to you?” he growled against your ear.  “C’mon, sweetheart, can’t you put up a better fight than that?  I thought you believed in equality… you should be able to get away if you’re as strong as I am.”

He felt your warm tears trailing down around his fingers which held your face tightly, the struggle of your limbs slowing and weakening slightly.  His cock was already getting hard as he imagined the moment you would finally give in.

“You remember me, don’t you?  You didn’t need to be so rude, darlin’.  You could’ve just been nice and none of this would be happening.”

Your elbow shot back into his ribs and he exhaled sharply but didn't let go, grabbing your wrists and holding your arms to your chest as he pinned you to the wall.

"Oh, that's not gonna work, babydoll.  I'm so much stronger and bigger than you, all you're gonna do is make me angrier.  Is that what you want, sweetheart?  To make me angry?" he asked mockingly, leaning in to lick the shell of your ear as you tried to turn away.  “Pretty girl like you would make a great wife, why would you want anything else?”

Ignoring your struggle, he reached into your shirt and purred as he groped your chest, your nipples hardening when he pinched them.  “Maybe I can get behind this bra-burning thing if it means having easier access to your tits all the time,” he grinned.  “How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when I can see them through your shirt?  Shouldn’t be showing ‘em off if you don’t want any attention.”

As fun as it was to play with your tits, he had bigger plans, so he reached lower to start tugging down your jeans, your legs uselessly kicking as he exposed your ass and thighs.

His cock was already rock hard as he hastily opened his fly and pulled it out with one hand, leaning back to spit on it quickly.  He spread the fluid with a few strokes over his length, figuring it would be enough to get inside you even if he didn’t really care if he hurt you.  

Your eyes went wide and your head bucked wildly as he poked the head of it against your opening, your body fighting a little harder once again.  The irony of that, though, was that you were already plenty wet in spite of what he had expected; it was so much funnier to watch you struggle now that he knew you were not-so-secretly enjoying it.

“Don’t be so dramatic," he chuckled darkly, "I bet you can take a cock real easy since you believe in all this ‘free love’ bullshit.”

He groaned as he pushed into you, impressed by how tight you were— so tight that it made his cock throb right away, your walls pulsing and rippling around him as he filled you to the brim.

“Oh fuck, there you go…” he hissed, smiling as you sobbed harder and struggled a bit more before finally relaxing into his tight embrace.  "You're gonna take it all, baby, every fuckin' inch of me."

A hard sob choked out of you every time he slammed himself to the end of you; he could feel the hatred radiating from you, the way you would kill him in a moment if only you weren't so weak.  But he could feel your reluctant acceptance, too, and the way it was slowly turning into euphoria— you were finally starting to like how it felt to be helpless to him, it was obvious with the way your pussy gave him such a warm and willing welcome while your pretty tits got even harder.

You clearly wanted to hate him, but your body knew better.

"You think I'm a sexist pig, I'm sure," he chuckled, "but I'm really not— I love women!  And you know what I love most?  Huh?"

He felt you nervously shake your head behind his hand and he laughed.

"I love the way you get so dumb when you get a cock in you.  All those useless little thoughts leaving your head when you're finally getting fucked right."

Your cries got louder even though they were still muffled by his hand, your sweet little pussy giving him a squeeze of encouragement.

"It's okay to like it, babydoll, it's what you were meant for.  Made to be my brainless fucktoy… born to serve me," he growled.  “You really should learn to appreciate," he grunted between brutal thrusts, "that your only purpose is to keep my dinner hot and my cock warm.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head and he felt your walls bear down on him tightly, wetness seeping down around him.

"Oh fuck, are you coming?  Shit," he moaned.  "Looks like you really needed to be put in your place, just needed to be used... god, you made a fuckin' mess, too, you soaked my cock…"

Your little hands tightened into fists, pushing against where his arm held them back, but he stayed steady as he pumped into you, letting himself get a bit lost in the feeling of you while he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

It felt so damn good to have a cunt coming around him, but it was even better knowing that you were fighting it and still couldn’t stop it, completely helpless to how good he was making you feel.

You almost screamed under his hand when he reached down to quickly rub your clit, your back arching to try to run away from his touch; poor thing, you were so sensitive it probably hurt you, but he was having too much fun watching you realize you were going to come again.

"Yeah, gimme another one, slut," he grinned, your legs quivering as waves of slick coated him and started to even drip down your legs.  "Can't stop coming like the dirty whore you are, huh?  Bet nobody's made you come like this before— cause nobody's given it to you right.  Nobody's shown ya what it's supposed to be like when a man takes you and makes you his."

From the way you moaned softly, teary eyes fluttering shut, he knew you liked the sound of that.

"Yeah, wanna be mine, baby?  Wanna be my little slut?  Or do you want me to pump this pussy full and leave you here on the ground for any other man that comes by to use you if he needs?"

You groaned softly, a weak little noise, and he felt his cock flex; as much as he wanted this to last as long as possible, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“M’close, honey,” he breathed.  “I’m gonna come.”

He laughed breathlessly when you shut your eyes, like you were trying to go somewhere else in your mind, trying to pretend this wasn’t real.  But it was real, and he wasn’t going to let you forget that.  He was elated to make your nightmares come true.

"I sure wouldn't mind pulling out and covering that pretty face you've got,” he hissed.  “It'd be funny to see you go back to your little march and show them how owned you are.  But not today, babydoll, I think there's only one way you're gonna learn your lesson."

Another muffled gurgle from you, and this time it didn’t even sound like protest.  Maybe you were just too tired for that at this point, but it gave him hope that you could finally behave.

"I'm gonna take my hand away from your mouth and you're gonna beg me to come inside you, is that clear?" he grunted, feeling you nod vigorously.  "You're not gonna scream are you?"

You shook your head, and he slowly pulled his hand from your mouth as you gasped for air.  "Please— come in me," you panted.

"Address me as 'sir'," he instructed.

"Please, sir, I— I want you to come," you whined.

He chuckled right against your ear, feeling you shiver in his grasp.  "Honey, I don't give a fuck what you want."

To think you ever resisted your natural desire for submission was absurd now, considering the way that statement made you openly moan, your walls fluttering around him.

“Gonna fill you so fuckin’ deep you’ll never get it outta you, sweetheart.”

One more orgasm washed over you, making him laugh darkly while he watched you bite your lip to attempt to stay quiet; but that was impossible once he fucked you harder just to spite you, having to hold you tight to make sure he got as deep in you as possible.  Your whole body shook as he slammed into you, and he laughed at how dumb and helpless you looked.

"Bet you're on those new birth control pills," he grimaced.  They really weren’t that new, but he still hadn’t gotten used to them.  "Makes me sick to think you're letting a perfectly good womb go to waste.  Betcha want me to breed you nice and deep, yeah?  Wanna get knocked up?  You don't even care that I'm a stranger, you wanna get your pussy filled by any random man's come so you can have any random man's baby, ain't that right?"

At first he had worried that you would scream or cry for help, but now his concern was more that your moans would be too loud and somebody would catch the two of you in this alley.  Even if it was obvious now that you wanted it, public indecency was still a crime.

Good thing he had a new way to shut you up: his hand tight around your throat, silencing your sobs to blessed silence.  It was so hot to have you entirely at his mercy like that, to feel your pulse beneath his fingers, that he couldn’t stop himself from speeding up his thrusts suddenly.

"Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he gasped, “fuck, y-you… little whore…”

He had a habit of running his mouth when he was right on the edge, and the way your pussy was milking him for all he was worth made him spit out whatever filth he could think of.  

“Stupid fuckin' bitch," he mumbled under his breath as he fucked you as fast and rough as he could, chasing his high with no regard for your pleasure or your pain.  "Dumb whore, fuck, you stupid— ah, shit— stupid fucking cunt!"

He cried out as he filled you, groaning loudly with every pump of his seed into your waiting body.  Only when he was sure every drop was inside you did he release his grip on your neck, a loud gasp coming first before a few coughs and chokes that only made his cock harder despite having just filled you.

You started to struggle again, and he couldn’t believe it— after everything, did you still not know your place?

There wasn’t much time to relax and enjoy the afterglow when you were already trying to get away, and so he had to hold you tight again while he smiled exhaustedly.

“N-no,” you stammered, and he covered your mouth again as he pulled your head back to rest on his shoulder.  Clearly he hadn’t done enough yet to fuck that word out of you.

“Where ya goin’, sweetheart?” he panted against your ear, still catching his breath, his chest covered in a thin layer of sweat where it was exposed by his shirt.  “You’ve still got another hole to fill.”

[stealforreal]

Future kids - Bakugou Katsuki I

Bakugou meets his son from the future. Just some fluff, with a jealous Bakugou.

Bakugou Katsuki x F! reader

Warnings: none

Bakugou was stomping his way back to the dorms, cursing that stupid nerd Deku in his mind. Kicking some rocks lying in his way, he was radiating murder. Naturally his classmates left him alone to cool off for a minute, even the Baku squad left him alone. They had chosen not to interfere, because they would like to live to see another, thank you very much. 

The stupid nerd had been too close to y/n at lunch today, and Bakugou had spent the entire time glaring at the curly green haired boy. What really made him snap was when she hugged him, and the stupid brocoli went as red as a tomato. She was giggling loudly and seemed really happy at whatever Midoriya had said, and the fiery ash blond couldn't control his jealousy so he stormed off. After class was over Bakugou was the first out the door, not even stopping to insult Denki when he made a bad joke. 

The rest of his classmates were confused, sure they all knew Bakugou to be a hothead. But still he seemed angrier than usual, only the Baku squad had small nervous but knowing smiles on their face. They knew of the explosive boy's crush on y/n, it wasn't totally obvious and they really wouldn't have known had Kirishima not pointed out the subtle things. Like how he never once called her an extra, he still called her idiot, dumbass and such. That was probably Bakugou's version of a compliment, which was probably the reason they took so long to figure out his crush.

So here he was stomping his way back to the dorms, cursing Deku for being close with y/n, Himself for getting jealous, y/n for being too friendly and everything he could curse in general. He stopped dead in his tracks when he felt a little tug on his uniform pant leg, glaring down at the thing that stopped him. Only to be confused when that thing turned out to be a little boy, around the age of 4-5 by the looks of it. Bakugou's brows furrowed in confusion, how did a little boy end up here. UA is one of the most secure places in Japan, courtesy of the League of Villains and other past incidents. 

What caught Bakugou's attention though, was the fact that this little boy was bawling his eyes out and trembling with his sobs. Bakugou didn't know what was happening, he felt incredibly protective of the young boy but didn't know why. He seemed kind of familiar, like Bakugou had seen parts of him somewhere else before. The little boy had big e/c doe eyes, filled to the brim with tears as he stared at the ground. His hair was unruly and a familiar shade of ash blond, he reminded Bakugou of himself a bit when he was young except the crybaby attitude of course. It was weird for Bakugou to feel this protective of anything, and he didn't like it one bit

" Oi brat, where are you parents?" The teenager asked the little boy, crouching down to his level, making the little lad finally pay attention to the stranger he had grabbed. The little boy gasped and flung himself at Bakugou, clutching on tightly to the stunned teenager's shirt. A new wave of tears hit the little blonde, being relieved at the familiar sight of his fathers face though much younger. " D-daddy, I-I was so scared" the little boy whimpered, burying his tear stained face in his fathers shoulder. Bakugou was speechless, he sure as hell was not this kid's father even if it explained the feeling of familiarity. No Bakugou shook his head at the ridiculous thought, this kid was obviously terrified and contrary to popular belief Bakugou would not abandon a lost child " Oi brat, I'm taking you with me back to the dorms. Afterwards we'll find your parents' ' he huffed, Bakugou was going to kill this kid's parents once they were found.

The younger boy began calming down in the older boy's arms, the tears had stopped and he was only softly hiccupping now. "B-but daddy I did find you, I wanna go see mommy" the young boy huffed out, defiantly crossing his arms over his little chest. " Oh yeah, prove it brat" Bakugou smirked thinking he had cornered the little boy in his lie, but much to his astonishment the little boy let out a small explosion in the palm of his hand. Though much brighter than his own, there was no mistaking his explosion quirk.  Bakugou hated to admit that so far the brat seemed to be telling the truth, and he hated even more how his feeling of protectiveness grew at the revelation that this kid in fact was most likely his son from the future. It wasn't rocket science, right now Bakugou was 16 and 100% not a father. Yet here is a little boy that is the spitting image of him as a kid except the eyes, and in this world where quirks exist perhaps time travelling was possible.  

Bakugou's little chat with his son had taken longer than he thought, because as soon as he entered the dorm common room every one in the room snapped their head towards the two ash blondes. The first to break the pin drop silence was Kirishima  " Eh who is the kid, Bakubro" he asked. While Mina asked if he had kidnapped the kid, earning a glare from the explosive blonde. " Daddy, why does Aunt Mina and Uncle Kiri not recognize me? " a little voice asked, making a lot of jaws drop and eyes widened. 1....2......3...... " WHA!!!" The lot of them shouted, questions coming left and right, wanting an explanation as to why this little boy who looked suspiciously like Bakugou called him dad. 

What they all failed to notice was the little boy was recoiling from the loud noise, pressing himself closer and closer to his father. Bakugou noticed this, and thanks to his newfound protectiveness he hugged him closer and glared at them effectively shutting them up. Mostly they were just silenced because the sight of Bakugou hugging and being protective of his supposed son baffled them. I mean we are talking about Mr.Hothead angry Pomeranian, the most blatant rude student in class 1-A if not in the entirety of UA. " Shut it ya damn morons, can't you see you're frightening him" Bakugou sneered at his classmates, not loudly but it was still malicious enough to make a shiver run up their spines. 

Midoriya, who had known Kacchan the longest, was intrigued by this side of Kacchan and unconsciously moved closer to the two ash blondes. Seeing the familiar shade of green hair approach them Bakugou sneered, while his son became ecstatic. " Uncle Izu '' The child yelled excitedly, stretching his arm towards the blushing brocoli boy indicating he wanted to be held. " Ah hell no! He is not your uncle, I won't allow shitty Deku to hold my son" Bakugou yelled, making a few snicker quietly, but what really set them off was the fact his son chopped his head with a little fist. "Oi, why the hell did ya do that for ya brat? Bakugou barks at his son, only receiving a deadpan expression in return. " Mommy said, every time your daddy is mean to uncle Izu chop his head for me, okay baby?" After that announcement they all burst out laughing, while Midoriya tried not to tremble under Bakugou's glare. 

"Speaking of which, who is your mom?, uhm I never got your name, little guy" Kirishima asked the little boy, stating a valid point. Bakugou realized that even though he had known his son for about 5 hours now, he never once asked what the boy's name was. " What do you mean, Uncle Kiri, it's me Katsuma?" Katsuma tilted his head a bit, not really being aware or understanding that he most likely travelled through time. " Well you aren't born in our time yet, mini Bakugou" Kaminari informed the little boy, in his usual teasing voice. " Really Uncle Kami" Little Katsuma asked " Does this mean mommy and daddy aren't together yet?" He asked, surprising the teenagers. Katsuma was surprisingly smart for a kid his age, and after the initial shock from being called daddy Katsuki totally forgot to ask about his son's mother. 

"That is correct, Katsuma'' Todoroki piped up in his usual monotone voice, surprising Katsuma with his appearance. " Uncle Todo'' Katsuma replied coolly, surprising everyone present. The happy bubbly 5 year old had vanished in an instant, and been replaced with a little boy full of hatred. Breaking the little staring contest that had broken out between his son and the damn half n half bastard, was none other than Midoriya's phone. Being the klutz that he is, he ended up answering and putting it on speaker. " Izuku, Ochaco said there was a cute kid at your dorm, so I'm coming over " y/n voice could be heard, instantly Katsuma brightened up again being all sparkles and rainbows again. He tugged at his dad's collar, demanding Katsuki's attention " daddy, daddy did you hear, mommy's coming over" the little ash blonde exclaimed, bouncing in his fathers arms from being giddy. This new information caused everybody's jaw to land on the floor once again.

" WHY, why does Bakugou get the hot chick? '' Mineta yelled in agony, being the little pervert he is, he had to comment on her looks. " Oi, don't talk about my future wife and baby mama y/n like that, I'll fucking blast you to hell" His statement followed by the crackeling in his palm, and the sound of a phone being dropped? Turning around Bakugou was met with your stunned face, eyes blown wide with confusion and astonishment clearly written on your face. " Mommy" Katsuma yelled, squirming trying to get out of his fathers embrace, and slowly Katsuki sat him down. When his small feet hit the floor, Katsuma was sprinting towards y/n with all his might and flinging himself into her arms. Resulting in the poor girl, falling down on the floor in her confusion.

Katsuma buried his face in her neck, sighing happily to himself. The remaining nerves  he had totally disappeared once he saw you. As much as Katsuma was a daddy’s boy, he was even more of a mama’s boy. Katsuma could feel the lack of response coming from his mother, curious and slightly scared he looked at her face. you were absolutely stunned, no response came from you frightening the young boy. Tears began swimming in Katsuma’s beautiful e/c eyes, snapping you back to reality. The sight of a child with tears in his eyes, struck your motherly instincts. Answers could wait, right now there was an adorable toddler with tears in his eyes, and you had to comfort him.

Slowly Katsuma was pulled into your embrace, head buried in the crock of your neck. Arms wrapped tightly around the preciuóus boy, letting him cling to you for deer life. “ M-mommy, I m-missed you, I was s-so scared-d” Katsuma said through sobs and hiccups. Not bothering to correct him, you bounced him lightly up and down in your arms. Bakugou came and helped you onto your feet, putting an arm around your waist. His other hand began stroking Katsuma’s unruly blond hair. 

Around them the rest of the class was still stunned into silence, seeing the small family in an embrace. Most of them had never seen Bakugou look so protective and calm, let alone with a small blush. You would also sport a matching blush if it weren’t for the fact, all your attention was on the young boy in your arms. He looked like a carbon copy of Katsuki, yet his e/c eyes looked exactly like yours. Slowly the sniffles stopped. Instead they were replaced by steady breathing, it seems like the child had a long day because he was fast asleep in your arms.

Slowly you made your way to the 1-A dorm living room couch, with the sleeping child in your arms and Bakugou not far behind you. He made it a point to keep his hand on the small of your back, glaring at the other guys present if they looked at your or his son the wrong way. “ Can somebody please explain to me what is going on?” You whispered so you wouldn’t wake up the young boy, whose name you still hadn’t caught. Your eyes caught Izuku’s eyes, but for some reason his eyes widened and he averted his gaze from you. Izuku is one of your best friends, you met because you and your classmate Hatsume Mei worked on his hero costume and you hit it off. 

With your attention not fully on the child anymore, you now realised that somebody had their arm around your shoulders. Looking to your right where the owner would be stítting, your eyes widened slightly at the person on your right. One of the hottest guys in UA had his arm around you, Bakugou Katsuki of class 1-a was well known in the school. His temper, looks and quirk had made him extremely popular with the female population of UA, though none of them dared approach him. The bad boy image both attracted them and made them keep their distance from him. He wasn’t exactly known for being a teddy bear, so Katsuki hugging y/n closer to him and keeping touching her was not expected.

 “ Oi Flashlight, brat is ours from the future. I don't know how he got here but it’s true. He even has my quirk, you know what this means right ” Bakugou spoke, explaining the situation. The others had left the two of you alone, giving Bakugou privacy to explain the surreal situation to you.  What this means? What did he mean by that? You couldn’t help but ponder the meaning. Turning your head to face him and question him on what he meant, you were met with a very close Bakugou. Bakugou couldn’t contain himself seeing you look so adorably clueless, so he closed the small gap between you. 

His lips were surprisingly soft. He was gentle in kissing you, not knowing how you would react. I mean you had to like him back right? You were sitting there next to hum with YOUR SON in your arms. He smelled nice, it was a sweet scent like caramel courtesy of his quirk. The kiss was slow, loving and gentle, the feeling of his lips on yours were intoxicating. Pulling back from the kiss, Bakugou growled silently, huskily in your ear “Your mine, flashlight” Heat crept up your neck, and you were left softly blushing. “ What are we going to do with him Bakugou?” Still facing Bakugou, you looked at your son from the future. There really was no mistake, he looked like a perfect Katsuki copy with your eyes, and your motherly instincts told that this was in fact your son. 

“It’s Katsuki to you Flashlight ” He corrected you “For now let's go to bed, it’s late. We can ask the squirt questions tomorrow” Katsuki led you to his room, still with a sleeping Katsuma in your arms. His bed was big enough to fit the three of you. You laid down with Katsuma in the middle, both you and Katsuki put an arm around Katsuma. Katsuki intertwined your fingers, and slowly you fell into a blissful sleep. You could ask more questions tomorrow.

But when you woke up, Katsuma was nowhere to be found. Only you and Katsuki were cuddling in his bed. You and Katsuki both came to the conclusion that whatever quirk sent Katsuma here probably sent him back to his own time. “Katsuki, is it wrong of me to miss him already?” You looked at your new boyfriend, looking into his sleepy vermillion orbs. “ If you miss the little firecracker already, why don’t we bring him back” His morning voice was rough, and tickled your ears just right, sending a shiver down your spine. Bakugou's eyes glinted with mischief, as he began kissing your neck. The innuendo not lost on you, the feeling of his lips on a particular spot had you giggling. It was ticklish and stopped him in his tracks for just long enough for you to get a word in. “ Let’s wait a few years okay” He nodded and laid down next to you again, pulling you close.

You would see Katsuma again. Someday.

[azaleavi]

Pretty boy

Summary: You don't like James Barnes. Of course not when he has a different girl with him every time. And no, you are not jealous... right?

Word count: 3.8k i went OUT with this one

Warnings: language, a man being a creep, then getting beaten up, kissing, very slight alcohol consumption

Author's note: This gave me the idea. It turned out to be pretty long. Sorry. I hope you like it! This is 40s!Bucky btw.

Feedback is always appreciated and don’t forget to reblog and like if you enjoyed it and want to see more. Thank you!

Masterlist

Part 2

James Barnes was a menace. An annoying little shit, who thought he could do anything and have anyone just because he was handsome. Not like you found him attractive or anything, but all the girls of New York seemed to drop their panties at the sight of him. One pet name and they were ready to kiss the ground he walked on. You couldn’t understand. How did these girls not see what kind of person he was? Multiple times you saw girls leave his apartment in the morning looking all sad. At first you felt bad for them, but after a while as they kept coming back you just couldn’t bring yourself to pity them.

Being a close friend of Steve meant you got to see a lot of James too. They were kind of a package deal, to which - by the way - you did not sign up for. Steve was the sweetest person you’ve ever met, maybe too righteous sometimes and he definitely did not know how to walk away from a fight, but he was a good man inside and out. James on the other hand was not like him. He wasn’t a bad man per se, but he was just too much of a player for you. He knew he was handsome and he used it to get girls all the time. Or dames as he called them. You hated that word by every fiber of your being. It reduced a woman to a simple object in your opinion and it basically said that she was only a pretty thing and nothing else. You did not want to be a pretty thing, you wanted more out of your life. Marrying some stuck up man and bearing his children was not something you dreamed of, no matter how many times people told you that it was what you had to do. No. You wanted a life that didn’t revolve around men. A life that you could choose for yourself. But it wasn’t that easy. Everyone expected you to do what they did. It didn’t even occur to them that you wanted something else.

Your mom had been telling you that you should marry James as he was such a nice young man. You just rolled your eyes every time she brought it up. She didn’t understand. How could she when she was so in love with your father after they met a few times that they got married just after a couple of months of knowing each other. Their love was something so extraordinary that you knew it wouldn’t happen to you. Especially not with James. He wasn't thinking about marriage and even if he did he wouldn't want you as a wife. Not like you wanted to marry him or anyone else for that matter, but that didn't mean that it didn't sting a little that he went after every girl he saw, but never thought of you the same way. He never even tried and it beat down your confidence a little. When you first met James you found him intriguing, your young self even had a crush on him for a while. But it didn't take long for you to get to know the real him and the disappointment made you force that crush down. You only laughed at yourself now, finding it hilarious that you once wanted to kiss him and love him. Of course, you didn't feel that way about him anymore. That would be stupid of you. Of course..

-

Having a night out with Steve was a wonderful idea. That is until James showed up, making you narrow your eyes at your friend. You clearly remembered him telling you that James had other plans and it would be just the two of you, but of course he had to mess up your plans.

You went to a bigger pub in the city, having been there before and liking it. James dragged Steve away as soon as you entered, talking about some girl he wanted to introduce him to, so you just went to the bar to ask for some alcohol. God knows you needed it if James was around.

All of the sudden two hands grabbed your waist and turned you around. Before you could realize what was happening a pair of lips were on yours, kissing with so much passion you almost moaned into it. Noses bumping against each other your hand gripped his hair. Your mind cleared as you realized that a stranger was kissing you without your permission and you pushed him away by his chest, hand already raised to slap him. Your whole body froze as you came face to face with a familiar man. James.

"What the fuck is your problem?" you hissed, your palm almost connecting with his cheek, but being stopped by his hand on your wrist. He pulled you close again by his hold on your arm.

"There is a girl I need to get rid of. Just play along" he mumbled, his breath hitting your lips as he leaned in for another kiss. You almost got lost in him again, but you were more aware and not caught by surprise this time so you managed to pull your head away from him.

"I will do no such thing" you narrowed your eyes at him. "Let go of me" you were getting angrier by the second. Who did he think he was?

"What if I don't want to?" Okay that's it. You ripped yourself from his arms.

“Listen here, pretty boy” you pointed your finger at him in your anger, not registering the smug expression that worked its way onto his face. “You can’t just do whatever you want because you are a-“

“You think I’m pretty?” he interrupted your angry rambling and grabbed your finger to pull you closer by it. In your surprise you stumbled forward, your hands finding place on his chest, your nose a few inches from his.

“James” you called out his name in warning. If he didn’t let go of you right now you wouldn’t be responsible for what you did to him.

“Come on, doll. I told you to call me Bucky multiple times” he smirked down at you.

“And I told you that we are not friends therefore I don’t have to call you your stupid nickname” you yanked your hand out of his grip, stepping back. “And stop calling me doll. I’m not one of your girls”

“Ouch doll, that hurts my feelings” he rubbed his chest where his heart was.

“Oh, I didn’t know you knew what those were” you frowned at him, not amused by his teasing. He opened his mouth in mocking shock.

"Don't be so mean to me. A lady like you should always be polite." he teased, knowing well that you hated being called a lady and being told what you should and should not do.

"Good thing I'm not a lady then" you grimaced at him, cocking your head to the side.

"Well, with the way you've been talking to me, I guess you aren't" he stepped back into your personal space. "And if you are not a lady then you should have no problem playing along with me."

"I'm might not be a lady, but I'm definitely not one of your dames either" you pushed him by his shoulders to finally have enough space between you.

"Are you jealous, doll?" a smug smile played on his lips.

"Oh very." your sarcasm was clear as day. "It would be an honor to lie in your bed then leave in the morning, only to never hear from you again." you turned back to the bar, your drink already in front of you. Lifting the glass you nodded at the bartender who gave you a small smile. You drowned it in one shot, the alcohol giving your throat a familiar burn as it went down. "Is there anything else you need?" you turned back to him. He didn't say anything as he kept staring at you. "No? Then you can leave me alone" you shooed him away by your hands, already done with his shenanigans.

"Don't drink too much because of me" he called after you as he walked backwards, that stupid smile not leaving his lips. Rolling your eyes you turned back to the bar, leaning on it with your elbows, a sigh leaving your lips.

How could he just kiss you like that? You thought he at least had some respect for you, bit it seemed like he didn't. He was James Barnes for god's sake. Of course he didn't. You didn't know what you were thinking. He wasn't different from any man. A part of you believed that he might have been but he just proved it that he wasn't. Your mother would loose her mind if she knew what her 'nice young man' did to you just now.

You shook your head to get the thoughts out of it and signaled for the bartender to give you another shot. You drowned that one too as someone sat down next to you. You were ready to tell him to fuck off, thinking it was James again, but as you turned your head it was a man your age. You lifted your eyebrows, not being in the mood to deal with another self-centered man.

"What is a pretty dame like you doing here alone?" he tried to flirt, but he already lost you at the word he called you.

"I'm not here alone. And it's none of your business" you showed him a mocking smile and stood up ready to leave, your night already ruined. A hand locking around your wrist made you stop.

"Come on. I just want to make you have a good time" he smirked, but it left his lips as soon as you ripped your arm out of his hold.

"I don't care about your good time" you rubbed your wrist, his grip leaving the skin red.

"Okay. I tried being nice, but you clearly don't care for it. Maybe you like men when they are being a little more forceful? You like 'em rough?" he pulled you to his body by your waist, your hands flying to his chest trying to push him away. Why is this happening to you now?

"Let go of me" you squirmed in his hold, disgusted by him. Unfortunately he was stronger than you and didn't loosen his arms around you no matter how hard you hit his chest.

"You like this don't ya?" his breath hit your cheek as you tried to get as far away as you could.

"No, I don't. Stop" you were getting desperate, looking around for anyone to help you. There were a lot of people around, but none of them seemed to care. Tears gathered in your eyes.

Suddenly the man was pulled backwards by his collar, a fist meeting his cheek a second later, making you gasp. He fell down on the ground, but your savior didn't let him get away that easily as he hit him a few more times. You quickly stepped closer and that's when you saw his face. It was James. Your shock quickly dissipated as he lifted his arm again to hit the other man. You hands grabbed his forearm and you tried to pull him away, making him look at you.

"Stop it, James. He is already on the ground" you pleaded. A relieved sigh left your lips as he stepped away, his arm going around your waist to lead you away from the crowd that formed around you.

"Are you okay?" he stopped you in front of the building, the cold night air picking at your skin.

"Yes, I'm fine." you rubbed your arms, stopping your movements as he grabbed your arm that had the red bruise on it.

"Did he do that to you?" he almost growled, head turning to look inside the place.

"Yes, but it's fine. It doesn't hurt that much" you put your hand on his arm, trying to calm him down. Why did he care anyway?

The door opened and Steve walked out, a worried look on his face. you immediately pulled your hand away from James, stepping back.

"I heard what happened. Are you okay?" his eyes traveled over your whole body, trying to see if you were hurt.

"I'm fine, Steve." you forced a smile in his direction. In truth you weren't completely fine, but the boys didn't need to know that.

"I'll walk her home" James spoke up from next to you, making you look at him in surprise.

"I'm perfectly capable of walking home myself, thank you" you replied to him.

"I know that, but both of us would be more relaxed if someone was with you. And Steve was talking to a pretty woman before I left" he sent a knowing smile to the man. You looked at him, only to see him looking down at his feet, a blush on his cheek confirming James' words.

"Steve! What are you doing out here then?" you almost shouted at him. "Go back inside right now. I'll be fine." you waved him off.

"I'll go check on you tomorrow, okay?" he was already inching backwards toward the door.

"Yes, okay, just go" you laughed, happy for him. He walked back inside, leaving the two of you alone. "So you don't have to walk me home, just stay outside for a little while so Steve doesn't get suspicious." you forced another smile on your face.

"I will not let you walk around alone this late at night." he grabbed your arm that wasn't bruised and started pulling you towards your home.

"I've done it multiple times before" you argued, but walked alongside with him, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

For the duration of the walk neither of you spoke a word, but it wasn't awkward or uncomfortable. The silence between you was nice, letting you look around as he still held your arm, neither of you wanting to let go. He made you feel safe as you walked along the dim streets, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Thanks for walking me home" you reached your house, stopping in front of the door as you turned to him.

"Isn't there something else you should thank me for too?" he smirked, stepping closer.

"Well I was about to say it, but now I'm not going to" you put your hands behind you, leaning on the door.

"It's not only with words that you can thank me" he leaned closer, his face a few inches from yours for the second time that night. There it is.

"You know, I was thinking that you are not so bad while we were walking home, but you just reminded me why I don't like you" you smiled at him.

"And why is that?" he tilted his head to the side.

"You just can't keep it in your pants." you shook your head.

"Actually I wanted to apologize about earlier." he got serious, stepping backwards to put some distance between you.

"Earlier?" you asked back, confused as to what he was referring to.

"The kiss" he mumbled, looking down, almost as if he was nervous. But James Barnes does not get nervous.

"Oh." it was all you could say, surprise taking over your brain.

"So I'm sorry" he kept looking down.

"Uhm... it's okay, I guess?" you didn't know what to say to that, thoughts running through your mind a thousand miles an hour.

"I'm just gonna go now." he pointed behind him awkwardly. As he turned away you couldn't help yourself and you called after him, the alcohol in your system giving you courage.

"You are really not that bad, James." he turned back, surprise written all over his face, but he quickly covered it up by a smirk.

"Is that a compliment I hear?" you rolled your eyes at him. There was the James you knew.

"And it might be the last if you keep this up" you let out a smile. "But seriously, we could be friends if you didn't do what you do." you shrugged nonchalantly.

"What am I doing?" he asked, confused.

"You know, every time I see you, you have a different girl on your arm" you couldn't look into his eyes, a little embarrassed.

"You avoid me because of that?" his eyes widened.

"Yes. What did you think the reason was?" you furrowed your eyebrows.

"I don't know. I just thought you do it because you don't like me, not because you are jealous" he let out a laugh.

"I am not jealous, James. Get that out of your head." you looked away as a blush crept up your cheeks.

"Oh god you are blushing" he continued to laugh, the redness of your cheek only deepening. "I can't believe you like me" he mused.

"Okay, that is enough out of you. I'm going inside" you turned and reached for the handle as he grabbed you to turn you back around, your back hitting the wood of the door, his left arm on the door next to your face, his right circled around your waist. You let out a gasp at how close his face was.

"You didn't deny it" he whispered, his warm breath hitting your lips. Your mouth opened, realizing your mistake.

"I-" you wanted to defend yourself, but nothing came to mind. His right hand touched your face, palm flat against your cheek. You couldn't help but lean into his touch, closing your eyes for a second. Your eyes snapped open when you realized what you were doing and pushed his hand away. "I'm not one of your dames, James" you looked into his eyes. You couldn't let him treat you like any other girl. You refused to be another one night stand for him. A stable relationship you could work with, but being someone he called when he was bored was not something you wanted or could handle.

"No, you are not." he agreed.

"Then don't treat me like them" you pushed yourself more into the door. You were afraid. Not of him, he would never hurt you. Not physically at least. But you were afraid of what would happen. Will he leave you saying that he won't give up that lifestyle for you? Or will he stay with you?

"Never" he shook his head.

"I don't want to be one of many" you continued, trying to get him to understand.

"You know why I was always with a different girl?" he pulled away slightly.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to forget about you. I thought you didn't like me because you were always so distant. So I just wanted to find someone else, but none of them compared to you." he brushed his thumb along your lower lip. Your eyes met his as he lifted your head by your chin. "None of them were you" his nose bumped against yours. "I like you. I did from the first time we met" he finally confessed, your heart skipping a beat at his words.

"James" his name left your lips in a sigh. "Kiss me" he didn't need more as his lips latched onto yours, the butterflies in your stomach going crazy. His tongue swiped across your lip asking for entrance and as you opened your mouth, his body pushed you against the door, trapping you. It was a trap you never wanted to escape. His hands held your head, his thumbs stroking your cheeks as you arms were around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. Your heart beat rapidly as his hands traveled down your body, stopping at your waist.

A few moments later he had to pull away as both of you needed air, but de didn't go far, only enough for you to catch your breath. His forehead leaning against yours, noses touching, the two of you giggled into each others mouths.

"Wow" he mumbled as he left short pecks on your lips, unable to keep himself away from you. It was your first real kiss and he was already addicted.

"Stop it" you giggled and let him press one long peck on you before pushing him away. "I don't want you to get bored of that" you teased.

"I could never" he pressed another kiss on your mouth, making you laugh.

"Okay, I understand" you could barely talk as he still had his mouth on yours. He pulled you closer and rested his head on your shoulder.

"You are amazing" he murmured into the fabric of your clothes.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, James" you were glad he couldn't see your face as it was coated in a red blush.

"I'm just saying the truth" he pressed his lips to your cheek.

"I probably should get inside, before we wake up my parents." you sucked in your lips try to hide your smile.

"Maybe" he agreed, but made no move to let you go.

"You have to let me go for that to happen" you pulled away as much as you could.

"Then you shouldn't go" he teased, still holding you.

"I'll see you tomorrow, or today I should say" you reassured him and he let go at that. You straightened your clothes as he watched you. Looking up at him the softness in his eyes almost made you say 'fuck it' and spend the rest of the night with him, but you held yourself back. He turned and walked down the stairs, but suddenly ran buck up to you to press one more long kiss on your soft lips. You couldn't help, but let a smile break out on your lips as he pulled away to look into your eyes once more.

He was already out on the street when you remembered something.

"Hey, pretty boy!" you called after him once more, making him turn around with a big smile on his face from the nickname. "Good night" you bit your lip, trying to hide your own smile, but failing miserably.

"Good night to you too, doll" he playfully bowed down a little, making you let out a laugh.

If someone saw you that night, under the moonlight, they would have seen two people completely in love with one another, laughing, being happy that they finally found their missing piece that was in front of them the whole time. Eyes shining like the stars above them as they watched each other, only the moon being witness of their intimate moment.

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[not-a-space-alien]

Magnanimous Moonrise Chapter 2M

Story masterpost

I was so happy with the responses I got to chapter 1 🥰 Hope you all enjoy this too (/owo)/

Here is the corresponding chapter in the complementary story.

Content warnings for this chapter: Nonconsensual bondage/restraint/being trapped, gag/muzzle, implied past sexual assault, heavy emotional distress

Valen lay there in the dark.  He could do nothing else.  His heart would have been pounding if he had a heartbeat, but his body found other ways to manifest his anxiety.

He cried.  He hadn’t cried this hard since his wedding night.

He heard the humans talking again, muffled through the vehicle.  He half-heartedly pulled at his restraints again.

The doors were thrown open, startling him.  He tried to shy away, but he was absolutely locked in place.  The threat of sunlight felt so much worse now that he was so thoroughly immobilized.  They could just drag him out and toss him into the sun if they wanted to.

“Hey, you,” said the taller human.

“His name is Valen,” said the shorter one.  “I found his wallet.”

“Fine.  Valen.”

His name was enough to get him to turn his head.  It was too bright to look directly at either of them, but he saw their featureless silhouettes lit from the back.  He tried to curl up to protect himself, trying to control his trembling.  He just kept imagining them dragging the whole cage out and into the sun, forcing him to just lie there and take it, unable to even writhe or bargain or do anything.  The metal bars would probably make a grill pattern on his skin.  Like he was a panini.

“Don’t give me that look.  Stop being a baby.  We’re not even hurting you.  The muzzle is padded, the cuffs aren’t bare silver.  We could be being a lot meaner.”

I’m supposed to be grateful for this??

“We did stab him,” piped up the other human.

“My point is.”  There was a pause as the human clambered up into the van with him.  Valen’s eyes were mostly shut, so he couldn’t see her until she leaned directly over his metal prison.  “My point is, if you want us to continue not being mean, maybe you can help us out.”

…And how exactly do you expect me to do that?

“Where did all that blood come from?  There weren’t any people in the house.”

….And how exactly do you expect me to answer you?

“How do you want him to answer?”  He was relieved to hear the other human echo his thoughts.  Maybe, maybe they could be reasoned with…somehow.  And this whole nightmare could be over before it truly started.

The taller human shushed the shorter one.  She turned back.  “They aren’t in the house?”

I guess we’re doing yes or no questions.  He shook his head.  Even that much movement was difficult with how he was strapped in.

“Are they nearby somewhere?  Outside?”

He shook his head.

“Do you have captives at home?”

Oh God, she was getting mad.  She wanted a yes, clearly, but surely that would make her angrier.  He shook his head.  Please, please, please don’t hurt me.  I’m trying.  I’m trying to help.  Please don’t drag me out into the sun.

The human peeled her lip back.  The gesture couldn’t be threatening from someone with no sharp teeth, but the anger behind it scared him.  She could hurt him quite a lot even without any fangs.  “Then where the hell did it come from?  Is it animal blood?”

Animal blood.  Animal blood, yes that was safe, if he just told them it was that, they would take that to mean he hadn’t hurt any humans, only animals. Neither of them would be able to smell the difference. He nodded.  Yes, God, please, it’s animal blood, I’ll tell you it’s whatever you want it to be if it means you’ll let me out.

“So you’re some special vampire that can drink animal blood instead of human blood?”

Well, that lie had fallen apart immediately.  If she’d be mad at him for answering either way, why was she asking in the first place?  He quivered, unsure of what to do, the only actions afforded to him either Say yes or Say no, and he could imagine consequences for either and both.

“Erm, babe.”  The other human came closer.  “I’m not sure if this is really going to go anywhere.  Listen, do you think that maybe…I don’t know, do you think he made it somehow?”

Relief flooded through him.  His legs shook, his spine going limp.  Yes, yes, yes, God yes, oh my God yes, somehow you got it, thank you, thank you, thank you.  He nodded and fidgeted aimlessly in his restraints. 

“Well, which is it, then?” snapped the taller human, the grumpier one.  “Is it animal blood or did you make it somehow?”

Do you not understand the concept of a yes or no question?  He nodded.  This was progress, right?

“Okay, this is pointless.  We’re not gonna get any real answers out of him until we can find some way he can communicate without using persuasion.”

Just take it off!  Just take the muzzle off!  Please just take the muzzle off!  Please just take it off!  I promise it’ll be fine!  Frustrated tears spilled from his eyes.

“No, no, listen, the stuff in the basement, it looked like…Well, I don’t know, I’m suspicious it might be that one.”

“Why would any vampire come all the way out here, set up camp in the middle of human territory, to make fake blood?  Like, why would any vampire make fake blood at all when they can just get it from humans, let alone come all the way out here to do it?”

He groaned, eyes rolling back in his head.  This whole situation–it did look like that, it did look strange, he really couldn’t blame the humans for not understanding what was going on.  It did look suspicious as hell, it did look like he’d killed a bunch of people, they had no reason to believe he hadn’t, but he hadn’t.

“Well, I–I don’t know.  I’m just guessing.  There’s–There’s some notes, but I can’t really read the handwriting.”

Valen cursed his illegible handwriting.  His penmanship teacher had been right.

“Well, let’s just hand it all over to Nick and see what he can make of it.  And maybe someone there will have an idea of how to safely talk to him. We can get some pen and paper maybe.”  The van dipped as the humans moved away, boots thumping onto the dirt outside.

No, no, no, where are you going?  Come back!  That was it!  You got it right!  That was it!  He writhed, agitating the cage.

The smaller human turned back to look at him again.  He tried to beg with his eyes.  Please.  Please don’t do whatever you’re about to do to me.

She came over and leaned above him again.  It was unnerving, the way it let them loom over him when they did that.  “Hey,” she said, with startling softness.  “It’s gonna be all right.  Okay?  We’re just trying to keep everyone safe.”

Me too.  I am too.  She had no way of knowing that, of course, and why would she believe it?  His head swam with anxiety, desperately trying to trust her words, the only lifeline he'd been thrown.

The two humans chatted distantly, shutting the van door once again, returning him to the relief of darkness.  He felt the van dip again as they climbed up into the front seats, then the car turning over and the engine humming to life.  Then, they drove off.

***

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[dumfanting]

Same Heart ch 13: Interlude

A03 Link

Rating: M mature

Warnings: Grief, anger, night terrors, discussion of death

Word Count: 1453

When I sat down last night I meant to only scribble out some loose notes or an outline for this chapter, but I blinked and three hours had passed and it was written completely. Oops? Oh well. Finally, we’ll be getting to the Bad Batch arc of this Bad Batch fic, immediately after this chapter. I want to thank all of you again for reading, commenting, and sharing this story. The responses I get from each of you are what motivates me to keep writing. Thank you.

F! Reader/ Echo (and Fives)

You’re burning out, badly, then Kix approaches you about a job.

You surprise everyone by returning to work after only one day.

While sitting in your apartment, unmoving, for at least 8 continuous hours on the second day, you had a lot of time to think. And the more you thought about everything that happened, the angrier you got.

You weren’t there for Echo, there was nothing you could have done for Fives, and more of the injured men you pledged to live your life saving were dying by the time they reached you. You thought hard about it. You held that frustration, grief, and rage close to your chest and used it to motivate yourself and your decision. You’d make a terrible Jedi.

And so, as you walk, confidently, into the medical wing the following morning, Kix does a triple-take as he spots you. You don’t look even remotely the way you had after Echos death. If anything you look stronger, serious, determined. It’s a jarring contrast to your normally relaxed, if a little anxious, demeanor. You go right up to Kix and ask to speak with him, your tone businesslike, which is also unusual.

After hesitating for a moment, Kix sighs and motions for you to follow him into one of the quieter hallways. Once there, he looks you up and down and says your name. “You don’t seem like yourself, are you okay?” he asks.

You bite your tongue and hold back a sarcastic comment. “I’m fine. I’ve actually been thinking about my work here.” you say.

“You’re not leaving are you? You know we need as many medics as we can get, if you-“ Kix says, before you cut him off.

“I’m not leaving. But I don’t want to be here,” you say plainly.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Do you want to transfer to Kamino?” Kix asks.

“Not Kamino. Put me in the field.” you say.

“Absolutely not.” Kix says without hesitation.

“Dammit Kix, I made it my life’s mission to save as many people as I can. I can’t do that if they’re already dying by the time I can get to them. Put me in the field; being able to handle things as they happen will increase odds of survival for the men. Hell, maybe even the Generals too.” you say, raising your voice but not yelling. Not yet.

Kix shifts uneasily on his feet before he says your name. “You’ve been through a traumatic loss, you aren’t thinking clearly,” he says.

You stare him down, and say “Kix, I have never been more sure of anything in my life. I can’t stand to lose anymore men. I’ll break rank to get this if I have to.”

Kix looks startled. “You really are serious about this,” he says.

You don’t speak and instead respond by squaring your feet and crossing your arms.

Kix is reminded of how Rex stood when he wouldn’t let you through the door to the hallway from the med room, only three days ago. You wear the same expression as well. Kix sighs, running a hand down his face and grimacing. “Alright, fine. I’m completely against this, for the record, but if it’s what you’re sure you want to do then I won’t stop you.” he says.

Your posture relaxes noticeably, and the hard look in your eyes softens. You breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Kix. You have no idea how important this is to me,” you say.

“You’re right, I don’t,” Kix says before leading you back into the hospital wing.

Months pass before you realize Kix may have been right about you going into the field.

After Echo, it hurt you to see exact copies of his face just in passing. After Fives, you see both of them in every clone you come across. And so, whenever you can’t save one of the men, it feels like losing them all over again. You thought that being in the thick of it would help, that the constant movement and chaos would keep your mind off of the domino twins.

You were wrong.

The two never left your mind, appearing in all of your dreams as the time progressed. The nightmares you had after losing Echo were absolutely nothing compared to what your unconscious mind is throwing at you now. Most nights you would relive your worst experiences from being deployed. Dozens of men, dead, dying, screaming, and you were completely paralyzed, unable to even breathe, and forced to watch it happen. If that wasn’t bad enough, sometimes the dream would force you to watch Echo and Fives die, over and over again. You had a hard time getting to sleep, always afraid that you’d wake up with a scream and drenched in sweat.

After a particularly bad mission, you come to the crushing realization that you just can’t keep this up. You want to help, need to; it is so ingrained into you that it is almost your entire identity. But you can’t do it anymore. So much pain and death, so many nightmares, all the horrors of war, it had all finally gotten to you. You decide that, as hard as it would be, leaving the GAR behind was the best thing to do for yourself. You’d find a smaller city, on another planet, and do what you could there, where the odds of running into any clones were slim.

The next morning, when you ask to speak with Kix, he knows immediately that something is seriously wrong. You’d been so strong, unyielding even, that when he sees your slouch, your softened voice, your exhausted eyes, he has an idea of what you want to say to him. The two of you move into an unoccupied med room and close the door behind you.

“Kix, I-” you start, but he softly says your name, stopping you.

“I know. It’s okay,” he says sympathetically.

“I just can’t,” you say, your voice cracking as you speak. “I’ve tried to force myself to keep going, but I can’t keep putting myself through this.” You hiccup, and turn away from Kix’s gaze, embarrassed. It’s quiet for a few moments.

“Do you remember what you said to me, outside of your apartment that day?” he asks, quietly walking over to you.

“‘Why do you all have to look the fucking same’. I remember. And that’s the problem,” you say, a few stray tears rolling down your cheeks.

“I was originally going to tell Bortuse about this,” he says, pulling a small datapad from one of his many pockets, opening a few files, and handing it over to you. “But I think this is just what you need,” he says.

Confused, you look down at the open file: “Clone Force 99”. You hadn’t heard of them before, though you were aware that sometimes there would be smaller teams of men who don’t work with a specific commander. This must be one of them, you think.

Kix had brought up how he and all the other clones look the same though. What does that have to do with this?

You open another file, and it all makes sense. The four men whose photos you are looking at, were all different. You can see some clone traits, like the darker skin, two had curly black hair, and other small details, but they each are unique. You almost have trouble believing that they actually are clones.

As if reading your mind, Kix speaks up, saying “These guys have been genetically modified to enhance certain traits over others. Their mutations are why they don’t ‘all look the fucking same’,” he says, quoting you in an attempt to ease your mind.

“So, what about them? What does any of this have to do with me?” you ask, confused as you return the datapad.

“They need a medic. Someone who stays with them and goes everywhere they do, especially for missions. They’re very valuable to the Kaminoans,” he explains, but you catch the shift in his tone with his last sentence.

“Ugh, of course they are. You’re all people, not ‘things’,” you say, disgusted.

“Either way, they need a medic, and you need a drastic change. Give it some thought,” Kix says before leaving the room.

Later that evening, you’re pacing in your living room, considering your options.

Clone Force 99 sounds more and more like an answer to your prayers. You’ll still be working with the GAR, but you won't be haunted by Fives and Echos faces. It is an intimidating prospect, having to basically live with these four men you knew nothing about, but you ignore the anxiety gnawing away at the back of your mind and decide to take the job.

Finally, you think, you can move on.

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[sillyrabbit81]

The Instructor - Part 5

Summary: Augusts confronts your betrayal.

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader

Word Count: approx 4k

Warnings: Dark, violence, abuse, choking, hitting, punching, orgasm denial, orgasm control, sex (p in v), mdom/fsub, switch, praise kink, degradation kink, name calling, dubious consent. I tried to mention everything if I missed something I sincerely apologise.

Authors Note: FINAL PART. There are probably going to be massive plot holes, sorry about that, this was never meant to be a series, so I didn’t do anywhere near the set up needed. However, I’m glad I did do a series because I enjoyed playing around with some of the darker aspects of the story. If it sucks, I'm sorry, I just went for it and this is what came out! It probably also isn't strictly cannon, but I made use of some aspects of the MI cannon.

Unbeta'd and unedited, there will be errors.

Masterlist

Part 4

The Instructor Part 5

You thought you had felt true fear before this moment, but you were wrong. Confronted with the unyielding stare of August, your stomach twists and your mouth goes dry. You’re completely and utterly fucked.

You try to answer August, make up a believable lie, beg forgiveness, say anything. But you can’t, it’s like he can see into your soul and you know that any lie you tell him will only make him angrier.

Quicker than lightning, August’s hands grip your throat. He pushes you to the wall, uncaring as your head hits it so hard your vision swims. Both his hands push into your neck, compressing your arteries and you feel the blood pooling, building pressure behind your eyes. This wasn’t the subtle choking he engaged in when you played. No, this was Special Agent August Walker trying to kill you.

You are stretched against the wall, your toes barely touch the ground. You are a trained soldier, but August is a trained assassin, you know you won’t last long in a situation like this, you will pass out in less than a minute. Then all August had to do was keep squeezing and you would be dust.

“Why, pet?” August asks through clenched teeth.

You can’t speak, you have no air. You plead to August with your eyes, silently begging him to stop. His hands press harder and you feel him crushing your trachea with his leathal hands. You scratch at his hands, his face, his eyes. You kick with your feet, frantic, feeling yourself get weaker by the second. You get one lucky shot in and for a moment August’s grip falters as he doubles over retching in pain.

You slam the palm of your hand into his forearms and he lets you go. You run for the door, your nudity the last of your concerns. Your throat hurts as you run, bruised and raw, you gulp breath in, coughing you try and fill your lungs again. You reach the door, pull the handle. It stops, not making a full rotation.

“Fuck!” you scream in frustration. You turn the lock and try to open in again. It does and for a brief moment you taste freedom.

A foot kicks the door closed and August is in front of you. You back away from him as he locks it again. In the unlikely event you live through this night, you will never forget the snarl on his face. You look into his eyes, expecting to see the eyes of a killer and August doesn’t disappoint. His azure eyes burn with such murderous intent, for a moment you think you are going to lose control of your bladder.

But there is something else there, something he tries to hide behind his fury. You search his face, trying to see past the mask and find what he is concealing. You wince when you see it. August was hurt. Your betrayal had hurt him.

“This is even more fun than the first time we fucked, Pet,” he says, mockingly. August advances on you with a bullish intent. He is magnificent as he stalks you, his loose pyjama pants hang low on his hips, his chest is taut and his thick ropey arms flex as he readies them for a fight.

You try and think clearly, maybe you should confess everything. He’s going to kill you if you don’t. If only you had long enough to check his records, but you couldn’t put your associates at risk if you weren’t sure.

Lifting your chin, you accept your fate. You ready a fighting stance, and August does too. You understand you can’t beat him, but you won’t die without a fight.

You dodge his first attack, and you’re not surprised that he led with his fists. He only needs one to land and he would break your bones. You retreat to the kitchen, praying its laid out the same as yours. Opening the draw with the knives, you pull one out. It’s not ideal, its weight wasn’t distributed well for fighting, but it was better than nothing. Your gun is in your room and you have no idea where August keeps his.

Turning the tables and going on the offensive, you make August back up and you move to the door. You hold the knife expertly, and as long as you keep August from getting his own weapon, the fight might be a fair one. You have so much adrenaline pumping through your veins you start to shake. The blade accentuates the tremors and August see’s, of course he would find your weakness.

“Put the knife down, Pet,” August orders, his voice was smooth, calm and commanding. You nearly stumble, his words sent shivers down your spine. How can he still have an effect on you? “You know I can’t let you out of here.”

You gage the distance to the door, it was still so far away. Your fear made you want to run to it again, but you knew it would be a mistake. Better to keep advancing slowly, forcing August back.

But August stops retreating and plants himself in front of the door. He stretches his neck, rolls his shoulders, his naked torso hides nothing and you see his muscles ripple under his skin. Your body and mind are in conflict, confused by the stimulus. You’re terrified of August, but fear of him and what he is capable of was part of his appeal, part of his savage, dominant sexuality. Your body can’t tell the difference and you feel it responding, your centre grows warm, throbbing and your arousal moistens the apex of your thighs.

“Please,” you murmur. Confronted with August’s obstruction and his dismissiveness of your threat, you lose hope. You feel weak and exhausted. Again, you contemplate confessing everything, but you aren’t a coward, you were realistic.

The cruel snarl on August’s face becomes a smirk as you plead. “I love hearing you beg, Pet,” he taunts.

He attacks again, this time grabbing a chair from the dining table. You try and duck but he is too fast for you and the solid wood chair cracks you over your head and shoulders. You stumble to the ground; your vision wavers and you nearly pass out. You try and get to your knees, but your arms won’t cooperate and you fall to the floor, no doubt you have a concussion. You look for the knife, see it about a metre away. With your head thumping and your heart racing, you scramble for it, but August reaches you first.

Gripping both your ankles, August uses your legs and body weight against you, flipping you onto your back. He pulls you to him, your skin rubs against the carpet and you howl with pain as you feel the fibres burn your ass and back. August climbs on top of you, his hands are at your throat again, squeezing the life from you.

“You’re killing me, August,” you try and say, but all you hear is your pathetic whimpers. You feebly punch and slap at August, but you are spent. You give up, you tried. You get angry at yourself for even thinking of giving up, but you didn’t know what else to do. You can’t win. Tears well in your eyes and start to roll down your cheeks. You squeeze them shut, ashamed that you cried in your last moments, that you gave up, that you didn’t fight.

The pressure on your throat relaxes, and you gulp in air, coughing and retching as your inflamed throat protests. You try to roll to your side to breath easier, but August doesn’t allow it, his body still traps yours and one hand still grips your throat. You feel his whiskered lips on your cheeks, kissing away your tears. You open your eyes and are consumed by his and the fire that burns within them. You wonder what your eyes are saying to his.

August shifts his hips and you feel him, hard under his thin pants. Your eyes widen, he really had been enjoying the fight. It scares you, feeling how hard and fully erect he his, aroused by trying to kill you. But you knew how hypocritical that was, because even now, terrified, a moment from death, you ache for him.

You roll your hips, sliding your bare, slick slit against August, the fabric of his pants harsh against your clit, but you feel him beneath it, and you can’t stop. You don’t want to but your craving for him was too strong.

If you didn’t know August as well as you did, you may have missed the surprise in his eyes. It came and went so quickly. His lip curled, triumphant, he had you where he wanted you, desperate, without fight left and completely his.

August’s arrogant look, his smug sneer, his complete domination of you made you lose the last shred of dignity you had and you beg for him.

“Please, please,” you whimper.

“You’re such a little whore,” August scolds you. “Do you think you can fuck your way out of this?”

You shake your head, “No.” You cry again, fat tears rolling down your cheeks in a constant stream, but you don’t stop your wanton grinding. You need to feel him inside you.

“Why are you so fucking wet, Pet?” August asks, his jeering tone warmed your face with shame.

“I don’t know!” you cry.

“Yes, you do, Pet.”

You try to turn away and hide from his knowing eyes. August won’t let you, griping your cheeks with his fingers, digging deep, the soft flesh pressing painfully against your teeth. Through your sobs you say, “Because I want you.”

“Beg me,” August’s voice changed, becoming low and hoarse. He starts to move with you, teasing you. “Beg for my cock.”

You don’t try to hold back, the words fall freely, “Please August, please.”

August tuts, “You can do better than that, Pet. Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me, August,” you sob. You’re ashamed of yourself, of how wet you are, how badly you want him, how easily you submit. But it feels too good, playing on the edge as you were, where fear and arousal become interchangeable, you had never felt such bliss.

Taking his pants off, August fists his cock as he takes you in, his gaze rakes over you, lingering on your desperate cunt. Lining himself up, he teases your entrance. When he slides himself over you, he groans as his eyes close and he throws his head back. You realise, you’re not as powerless as you thought, he wants you too and just as badly.

Bringing his head down next to yours, he growls in your ear, “Keep going, Pet. Tell me how badly you want me to fuck your hot little cunt.”

You start mumbling, “Please August, please. I need you.” You throw your arms around him, grip his ass and pull him closer. Your nails dig into his skin as you urge him into you.

With a violent thrust, August enters you. Both of you cry out, your twin shouts echo in each other’s ears. “You feel so good, pet. So wet and so fucking tight.” You mewl under him. He is stretching you, painfully. He offered your core no preparation and it protested his invasion, clamping down hard. August wasn’t fucking around, if he had taken any pity on you in the past, he wasn’t this time. He pumps into you, his pelvis making long driving strokes, your walls straining against the force of his cock, unready for his intrusion.

August hooks your knees over his arms and forcing your legs wider, he is finally sheathed. Increasing his pace, he uses you, furious, punishing and without pity. He offers you no pleasure, he takes what he wants. His face above you is twisted, angry, and hateful. This is payback, revenge, hurt me and I’ll destroy you. But despite that, or maybe because you feel you deserve it, a familiar pressure starts to build between your legs.

“August,” you beg. “I need to cum, please.”

Leaning down, pushing his weight onto your already strained legs, he brings his face to yours. His eyes are dark and sadistic as he says vindictively, “No.”

You groan. You were so close, you don’t know if you can stop it. “Please!” you howl. Fresh tears fill your eyes and you implore him.

“No.” August says, his voice cruel and merciless. “You cum and I’ll fuck your ass raw.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. You try and think of all the parts of your body that hurt. Your head, shoulders, legs, the skin on your back rubbing against the carpet. But it doesn’t work. Your body is so warm, tingling, your skin feels alive and the pain is dull compared to the rapture you feel.

Your body is suddenly wrest from the floor. August withdraws from you and flips you onto your knees and violates you again. You feel August’s hand in your hair and he forces your face into the floor. You heard a thud next to your head, his foot is there, and he continues his assault, kneeling on one leg anchoring himself with the other.

You bite your hand to muffle your shouts, you don’t want to give August the satisfaction of hearing your pain or pleasure. You thought he was deep before, but now you feel every impact in your gut, your core uncomfortably full from his brutal jabs. You can’t stay on your knees, your legs too weak to withstand his punitive thrusts. August doesn’t care. He digs his fingers into your hips, holding you in place as he continues his ruthless assault.

Unable to stop it, you feel your release approach again. You try to deny it, but the savagery of August is too much. The feel of your bodies slaming together, the slapping of his balls against your clit, the sound of his grunts of exertion overwhelm you and you can’t stop yourself from whining, “Please, August. Please. I’m fucking begging you.”

You hear August’s malicious chuckle. “No, Pet.”

August seizes you by the nape, pulling you up to your knees and your back presses against his chest. Wrapping his hand around your neck, he holds you against his shoulder. His other hand moves over your breasts, kneading into them, squeezing them. His face is close to yours, you feel his ragged breath tickle your cheeks.

He starts whispering in your ear and he presses his rough hairy lip into you. “You fucking little bitch,” his voice was low, harsh and dripping with venom, but August can’t stop his desire from seeping through. “Who sent you to me? Who told you to whore yourself for me?” He pinches at your nipples, and you shudder against him writhing. His insults pushing you towards your climax as much as his touch.

“Was it the CIA?” he asks, sliding his hand down your belly to between your legs. Fear makes your heart skip, if he touched you there you would not be able to stop your orgasm. You try and pull away, but he is too strong.

“Did those useless government hacks, turn you into a fucking whore, or did you volunteer, Pet?” He slid his fingers over your slit, and one grazed your clit sending your core pulsing around his cock. You want to tell him he has it all wrong, backwards. He thinks he’s been caught, he doesn’t know he’s being recruited.

He slaps your clit with his palm, a quick flick of his wrists that shocks you and if August wasn’t holding you up, you would have doubled over in pain and ecstasy.

“Don’t fucking cum.” August orders, rubbing a calloused finger over your oversensitive clit. Then, he says, sadly and with regret, “You could have come to me, Pet. Told me. I would have protected you. I could have gotten you out.” His voice almost cracks as he adds, “We could have gotten out together. BE together.”

You want to tell him, you want that too. You didn’t mean to fall for him either, none of this was planned. His fingers dance over your hard nub, coaxing from you the orgasm he forbids. Frustration suddenly pours out of you. You fight him again, punching the arm he had wrapped around your waist, and between your legs.

“Why do you fight so hard, Pet?” he asks. Those simple words he said to you all those months ago rock you. It was his invitation to submit willingly rather than be pulled under by the force of his will. But it was different this time, it wasn’t just you at stake.

You beg again, “August…” It’s all you can say through your short gasping cries. You break out in sweat, the need in you was so strong it took everything you had to fight it.

“Answer my question and you can cum,” He says. You nod, vigorously, you don’t even feel shame at giving in so easily, you’re too far gone. He brings his face in front of yours. Your whole body is shaking under his touch as he draws your orgasm and confession out of you.

“Were you sent by the CIA?”

You shake your head, and whimper, “No.”

August looks into your eyes for a hint of a lie. When he can’t find one, he coos, “Good girl,” and you wriggle at his praise. He kisses you roughly, lips hard against yours. “You can cum now, Pet.”

With unrestrained cries, you finally allow the pressure in your core to grow. You feel your release roll over your contorting body. Your guttural shout signals you’re the arrival of your long denied ecstasy and tears streamed from your eyes as you succumb with immense relief.

August watched every second of your orgasm, his face studying yours as if to memorise every expression, until you were done and can’t hold yourself up anymore. He removes himself with a gentleness that was unexpected and he tenderly carries you to his room. Cradling your head against his chest, he kisses your forehead, muttering something you can’t catch and were too far gone to ask.

He lays you on your side, and you are so malleable and weak, you let him curl you into a ball before he leans over you. He lifts your chin and turns your head so you are looking at him. You give him a half smile, which he returns with a soft hum. His eyes go to your collar and a look of sadness crosses his face, a grief so intense you feel it too.

You don’t know what to say and neither does August. He does the only thing he knows how to do when he feels what some people call love. He fucks.

When August enters you this time it’s different. Although his thrusts are brutal and powerful, it’s not punishment. He is trying to make a connection, to see if there is something salvageable between you. He needs to know if he means anything to you. He drops his forehead onto yours, resting there while his eyes met yours. He holds your throat and his thumb plays with your thin golden collar.

“You’re still mine, Pet,” August says, firmly.

“Always yours,” you reply with certainty. And you were. But by the end of this night he would know he was yours too.

As if to seal the promise you made, August kisses you. His lips pry yours open and his gentle explorative tongue massages yours. When you kiss him back, you are surprised by the growl he makes in his throat. Feeling bold, you place a hand on his cheek as you kiss. He doesn’t pull away so you slide your other hand into his hair and you expect him to shake you off, like he did before. He allows it, and he slides his free arm around you, pulling your bodies together. The rhythm you find together is nothing like the primal fucking you two are used to. It seemed as though he was making love to you, as much as someone like August could.

You feel the warmth grow again and radiate from your core. August instinctively knows your close again and stops your kisses watch you again. “Come for me, my sweet girl,” he utters.

You fall apart. Your fist tightens in his hair, you tremble beneath him, while you call his name.

“Fuck,” he grunts while you fall over the edges, and he forces himself deep within you, splitting you, owning you as you feel him thicken and pulse, releasing his seed into your milking core. Then he breaks you by growling your name as he makes his final throes.

You’re both slick with sweat, but August doesn’t care and he brushes your face with kisses. He looks like he wants to say something, opening his mouth and closing it again without saying a word. He helps you get up and he walks you to his bathroom.

August runs you a bath, and he sits on the edge for a while, watches you while you bathe. He showers quickly before returning to his spot.

Finally, he speaks, but he looks away as he says it, and for the first time you see August doubt himself, “If not the Agency, then who?” He asks.

“We have no government affiliation,” you say.

He nods, “Why did they send you, was the plan always to use sex?”

“No, August,” you say honestly. “This was not part of the plan. I was only supposed to be assigned to you while I did my training. This assignment was last minute, I don’t even know how it happened.”

He turns his attention back to you and looks for the lie he believes he will find. When he doesn’t find it he asks, “Your aunt, was that a lie?”

“She’s officially missing,” you say. “Unofficially, she brought me into group.”

“Something doesn’t add up, Pet,” August says. “I’m don’t know anything that a hundred other agents don’t also know. What did they send you to find out?”

“You don’t get it. We don’t want to bring you down, we want to recruit you. I had to make sure you are who we think you are.”

You see a glimpse of understanding in August’s eyes. “Go on,” he prompts.

You watch him carefully as you explain, “My assignment was to find out if you were the one who wrote a certain manifesto making the rounds in certain circles.” He doesn’t blink. You smirk, realising he’s trying too hard to keep his face smooth. He is the one.

“And, am I?” he asks.

“You are,” you say moving down the bath. Unbelievably, knowing he wrote that poetic and chaotic brilliance made you hot again. “This operation is all wrong, too big for simple arms traders. You’re using the CIA to get the connections and resources you need.” You run your finger down August’s bare arm, tracing the ridges of his muscles and the slight protruding veins on his forearms. August watches you intently, trying to appear cold, but you see his breaths grow shallow and his jaw clench. “We have the resources to help a man like you,” You reach his hand, turn it palm up, and lay a kiss into it before holding it to your cheek. “’A man with vision’ Lane calls you.”

“Lane?” August says, he seems confused, and he should be.

“Yes, meet with Solomon Lane and you will get your new world August.” You take his hand off your cheek and fold down his fingers except for the middle one. You take him in your mouth curling your tongue around him, and sucking.

August can’t look away. Already thrown by being discovered, he is completely transfixed by your sudden seduction.

“How?” he breathes.

You open your mouth and show August his finger sliding down your tongue. You get out of the bath and stand in front of August. You move his finger down your body, between your breasts, over your belly and between your thighs. You slide his finger between your warm folds and you hear August groan as you rest him against your entrance.

You ask him, “Have you, ever heard of the Syndicate, Pet?”

End

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[junowritings]

HELLO, DARLING 💕💕 I'm here to bust in and ask for some sweet, sweet Twst fluff! May I have some Ruggie, Azul, and Deuce reacting to thier fem!s/o protecting them in a fight?? Maybe some dude trying to swing at them and their gf gets in the way and protects them! Pls give me the good, much love and you're amazing 💕💕💕💖💖💖

First request! Thank you so much honey I am always happy to provide some peak content~! I had way too much fun with this and it shows lmao but I hope you enjoy~! 💖 💖 💖

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Ruggie

♡ Ruggie’s used to stepping on a few toes and tails with his antics - he’s a little trickster at heart but it’s all in good fun, he swears! It’s just unfortunate circumstances that perhaps one or two people sometimes get caught in the crossfire of his schemes, never anything too serious, but enough to leave more than a few people grumbling about it by the time things actually get sorted back out. Rarely do things ever actually spiral out of Ruggie’s control, and even if they do, chances are no one stays too mad at him for too long...most of the time. The times they do? They tend to get a bit out of hand.

♡ When a group of students attempt to corner him on the way back to the Savanaclaw dorm, he isn’t even sure what’s got them so heated - they start cussing him out, ranting about how he must think he’s such a wise guy, getting so cocky and not knowing his place. He’s not phased by what they say at all, if anything he’s not fussed in the slightest and would probably make a comment about them coming up with something more original if he could get a word in their bickering. It gets tiring real fast, and Ruggie’s looking for an out before these guys have even finished talking.  

♡ Sure, he could use his unique magic in this situation, but given that it would only affect one of them and more than likely piss them off even more in the process, it wouldn’t do much to save his hide right now. Three against one hardly seems like a hard fight, but if Ruggie is even remotely concerned about the odds it doesn’t show for a second, instead - chances are, they’re just gonna yell it out of their system and then storm off so he can go back to what he was doing. Arguably, that just makes them angrier, and soon enough their heated bickering becomes thinly veiled threats, as though they’re trying to rile him up into instigating something - they want a reaction, an excuse to justify starting a fight, but Ruggie’s not naive enough to fall for that trick. 

♡ When he doesn’t, one of the students finally snaps, lunging forward and snagging the collar of Ruggie’s uniform, bunching it up until he can feel knuckles pressed against his throat and he has to tilt his head up to avoid the fist curling underneath his chin. As the other hand rears back, the laid-back smile on his face becomes strained, and Ruggie squares the guy with a pointed stare as though waiting to call their bluff on actually taking a swing. He doesn’t get the chance to find out, as in the next moment the hand’s gone from his collar and Ruggie finds himself looking at the back of a blazer as a new voice joins the scene - one that he recognizes.

♡ He can’t see your face from this angle, but he can hear the hostility in your voice as you square up to the three boys, standing to your full height as you curse them out and order them to back up, asking what the hell they thought they were doing to your boyfriend. And just like that, those three hotheads dissolve into cowering pups right before his eyes, all bumbling words and awkward shifting as they try to talk their way out of the situation they’d been caught red handed in. They’re doing a poor job of it, and you’re clearly not buying it as you fold your arms and fix them with a scowl, taking a step forward as you move to completely shield Ruggie from their view. 

 ♡ Ruggie can count the amount of times someone has actively gone out of their way to protect him on one hand, so the situation is as bizarre as it is entertaining. He feels a smug kind of pride at hearing you declare the word ‘boyfriend’, and hearing the anger in your voice is enough to convince him that it’s for the best to let you handle this whole thing. Still, Ruggie just can’t help but peek over your shoulder as you tear those guys a new one, shooting them a shit eating grin and enjoying the way that their expressions twist into grimaces, pissed but unable to do anything less they risk even more of your rage.

♡ All you have to hear is one of them mention ‘putting him in his place’ for your expression to visibly darken, and all three of them know that they’ve messed up at the sight of your face. You barely even have to feign lunging at them to get all three of them to bolt, just about toppling over each other as they flee down the corridor and round the corner, effectively vanishing from your sight. Even then you wait a beat, listening out for their footsteps until you can’t hear them anymore before you allow the tension to fall from your shoulders. Ruggie thinks that’s the perfect time to chime in, resting his head on the shoulder he was peeking over as he snickers.

♡ “Shishishi~! Did you see the way they ran? Talk about spooked!”

♡ You find yourself chuckling along with him as you look at him out of the corner of your eye, watching his expression carefully before you shift around to fully face him. The first words out of your mouth are words of concern, asking him if he’s okay and if they hurt him in any way. He’s quick to brush off any of your worries, giving you a non-committal shrug and assuring you that he’s fine - he’s dealt with way worse confrontations before, so it’s not skin off his hide now that they’ve scampered off. 

♡ You’re not entirely convinced, he can see it in your face as you regard him - you seem to want to press the question on those ‘worse confrontations’, but after a moment you seem to drop it. Instead, you reach out and attempt to straighten out his collar and tie, though both are still a wrinkled mess by the time you’re finished; even so, Ruggie seems to appreciate the sentiment, and that lax grin from before is back as he slides out of your grip. He’s still gotta get back to the dorm, but it wouldn’t hurt to have company on the way back, if his new ‘bodyguard’ wants to tag along~

Azul

♡ Azul’s no stranger to people’s ire - he’s gained more than a few enemies over time, having his fair share of scorned patrons cursing his name before he’d even enrolled at Night Raven college. He’s learned quickly to gauge whether someone’s just blowing off steam or if they’re a serious threat, and he learned even quicker how to deal with those situations accordingly; after all, it’s bad business if you’re busy being hounded by clients looking for a bone to pick. He’s got countermeasures in play, and a few backup plans if things become too dicey for his liking, but he’s fortunately rarely had to use them barring one or two troublesome incidents thanks to the Leech twins.

♡ Floyd and Jade have, of course, been a big help in handling these little confrontations whenever they arise, having nipped most of them in the bud before they’ve even had the chance to darken the doors of the Monstro Lounge, so there’s been a relative peace in the place when people are there to have a good time rather than try and start fights.

♡ Things come to a head when someone actually manages to slip through into the Monstro Lounge, and Azul comes out of his office to the sound of someone shouting his name in a tone that sets the precedent that this is not going to be a peaceful interaction. He sees their face before they even turn to face him - expression twisted up in anger and hands balled at their side as they glare daggers at the other patrons, as if trying to discern if the dorm leader is sitting amongst them. Azul recognizes them immediately, and, upon realizing that the twins aren’t present in the lounge, rationalizes that it’s up to him to smooth things over before they end up disturbing the other patrons and causing too much of a disturbance. And so he plasters on his most neutral, unassuming smile, and greets the new ‘client’, watching them whip around to face him as he steps forward to talk to them.

♡ Azul already knows what they want to talk about - of course he does - he’s learned to keep track of every face that passes through those doors and his interactions with them. And yet he allows them to talk, and get what they want off of their chest; talking to them like this isn’t going to get them anywhere, and it appears they’re more in the mood for yelling than they are for actually talking. So he allows them to rant, if only to calm them down enough until he deems them rational enough to listen to what he has to say; and after a moment this seems to actually have done the trick, as the yelling soon quiets down in frustrated grumbling, and the eyes once drawn to the scene from nearby tables begin to return back to what had previously caught their attention. That’s when Azul finally speaks, extending an offer to finish this conversation back inside his office - after all, he’s sure they didn’t come here simply to make a scene when there’s a peaceful resolution to be reached, right? 

♡ It’s with that thought in mind that leads Azul to a momentary slip in judgement - turning his back on the troublesome patron and begins to walk back towards his office, expecting them to follow him. Which they do, with a raised fist. He doesn’t hear them storm after him, but what he does hear is the gasps from onlookers as they watch the person in question rear back their hand, fist aiming right for the back of his head. It should have connected - afterall, they were close enough to have landed the hit, but it never comes.

♡ Instead, a sharp shove at his back has Azul’s stumbling, and not a moment later, he’s spinning around to see what’s going on and finds an unexpected sight. The patron’s sprawled out on the floor, cradling their face in both hands and swearing up a storm as they rock back and forth, nursing what looks like a solid hit to the nose. And towering over them is none other than you, blazer discarded and sleeves rolled up to the elbows as you shake off the hit from your hands, winding up your shoulders as you stare daggers down at his would-be attacker. It doesn’t take a genius to discern what’s just happened in the span of just a few moments, but Azul’s suspicions are all but confirmed when you snap at them to just try and punch him again - watch what happens, you dare them.

♡ Anger flashes across the patron’s face, and for a second Azul truly believes that he’s about to watch a brawl break out between this troublemaker and his girlfriend as both make a move to jump the other. Thankfully for all involved, they don’t get the chance to see that show, as not a moment too soon the twins are there to intervene and split it up before any real fight begins. Jade’s hands are on your shoulder, guiding you back gently but firm enough to ensure that he can pull you away from this fight if you try to push the issue; you reluctantly follow him as he backtracks over to where Azul is standing, still grumbling about it under your breath. Floyd, on the other hand, is all too eager to take care of the one still cradling their face, sporting the beginnings of a bloody nose as they’re hoisted up onto their feet and promptly directed to the nearest exit.

♡ Azul makes a note to deal with that person later - though he’s got a sneaking suspicion that the twins are already well on their way to taking care of that in his stead as Jade leaves to rejoin his brother once you’re standing face to face with their dorm leader. For now, he turns his attention to you, watching you huff and rub idly at the hand you’d punched with as the beginnings of an apology tumble from your lips. 

♡ You didn’t mean to get involved and cause so much of a scene, but when he’d turned away and you saw the person rearing back to sock him, you were up from your table and swinging without a second thought. You couldn’t just sit there and let him get hurt, what kind of girlfriend would that make you if you did! You’d never let him get hurt as long as you were around - that was okay...right?

♡ The passion behind your voice is enough to convince him that you mean every word, and you can see his expression soften a little as he takes your hand into his own, thumb brushing over the scuffed skin of your knuckles, red marks becoming visible as a testament to the force behind your punch. Your expression twitches with a flash of discomfort - looks like you’d underestimated the force on your hand; Azul’s not surprised, going above and beyond was a penchant of yours that had gotten you this far, and perhaps what had led to you worming your way into his heart in the first place.

♡ At your expression, Azul gives your hand a pat before taking a step back, using the hold to guide you. He certainly doesn’t mind the protective streak - in fact it’s a rather endearing trait, one that deserves proper compensation in return. But the first order of business is getting that hand tended to, and Azul makes that his priority as he leads them to follow him to his office, pleased when you fall into step with him and follow his lead. 

Deuce

♡ Honestly, with how much of a protector can be over his friends, Deuce is in desperate need of someone just as willing to square up for him. He takes their safety seriously, even though part of him knows that realistically they can all take care of themselves just fine if anything actually happened. That still doesn’t stop him from wanting to step in whenever things get dicey, especially whenever it comes to you or your friends, and that either becomes a sweet sentiment, or the bane of your existence depending on how many altercations this ends up dragging him into.

♡ Maybe it's because of this that a fight was bound to break out sooner or later, but for what it’s worth, this one wasn’t actually caused because of him - it was because of Grim. That feline had a habit of breaching people’s boundaries, and sure enough it was just a matter of time before things escalated into a fight before anyone even had a chance to figure out what had even happened. Deuce wasn’t around when it happened, but the sound of yelling had caught his attention and led to him looking into the passing hallway trying to figure out what was going on. He recognized some of the voices, he swears it, and sure enough he finds the owner of those voices right in the center of the hallway, a small circle of people getting into each other's faces.

♡ Both sides are yelling, and at the sight of Ace and Grim smack-dab in the middle of the bickering, Deuce finds himself getting in-between them if only to get the one guy waving his hands around away from his friends before someone got slapped. Almost immediately there’s a hand in his face, an accusatory finger jabbed in his direction as all that anger at his friends is now squared directly on him. Deuce feels himself getting angry the more this guy screams into his face, cutting him off every time Deuce tries to get a word in; it’s clear that he’s not going to get any answers from this guy any time soon, so he calls to his friends behind him, ignoring the shout of ‘Hey, don’t ignore me!’ directed at him as he does so.

♡ Deuce looks away for a second, talking to Ace over his shoulder to try and find out what started this whole thing in the first place, when he feels someone grab a fistful of hair and yanks. Pain blossoms through his scalp and he hisses, a hand flying up to snag the wrist of the guy and wrenching it forward, digging his fingers in to force him to let go only for the hand to grip tighter. There’s another sharp tug, and Deuce can see Ace and Grim diving forward to help him from the corner of his eye, their shouts of protest only seeming to anger the guy more as they round in on him.

♡ But someone else gets there first, and just like that the hand is being wrenched from Deuce’s hair and he hears something go sliding across the floor. Turns out it’s the guy, whose expression is a mix of anger and bafflement as he tries desperately to reach for something behind him - no, someone. There’s a hand wound into the back of the guy’s blazer, hoisted up enough that he has to arch to go along with the item of clothing. The guy tries to reach behind him, but every time another hand peeks out from behind him to swat it away with ease, eliciting frustrated whines when the guy realizes he’s stuck.

♡ Deuce’s face must be priceless as he takes in the scene, watching a familiar head duck out from around the guys shoulder and flash him a grin, giving him a thumbs up. He hadn’t even seen you in the crowd, did you jump in when you saw him getting hurt? A part of him feels bad that you’d seen it happen in the first place, but that’s soon quashed when you turn your focus back to the guy who’d swung, who by this point had lost the gumption to keep swinging and was now just waiting for you to release your grip.

♡ You give it a few more seconds for good measure, before you allow your hold to loosen and you step away, still giving the guy a cautious glance as you move to stand in front of Deuce, Ace and Grim in a protective stance. There’s a beat of tenseness, waiting to see if the fight is going to start back up again, but when the group starts backtracking, retreating to who knows where else, it’s clear that at least for now things have been resolved. And with that out of the way, you turn your attention back to the boys, sticking Grim a pointed stare as you huff out that you’re talking to him about this later. 

♡ Then you turn your focus over to Deuce, and he immediately straightens up under your attention waiting for some kind of comment about the confrontation, or maybe a warning for him to be more careful. You take his face into your hands, and though confused, he follows along with your movements as you urge him to look down; he doesn’t know what you’re doing until he feels a hand smooth through his hair, easing the tousled hair back into place as you ask him if it still stings. Your tone is soft, and Deuce finds himself flushing as he hurriedly reassures you that it doesn’t hurt - it’s fine, really! You’re not entirely swayed, but the moment is broken when you hear Grim make a gagging noise telling you to stop being so weird. And just like that your attention is back onto Grim again, fully prepared to choke him with that damn bow as Deuce straightens back up, carding a hand through his hair and trying to will away the pink flush beginning to rise to his cheeks.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 5.5 Bonus

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for language Warnings: None Summary: Local feral human spends some time with their new family. Four short bits featuring Daphne (Maiden OC), Bela, Lady D, Daniela, and a surprise guest. Enjoy. Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!, 3: Haunt Me Dearly, 4: Portraits For Ghosts, 5: Heart Of The Matter

5.5: Family

i.

“Wait, you’re telling me that you came here willingly?” You asked, mouth agape, eyes wide. It felt like every time you talked to Daphne she had something incredible to say. Which was, of course, why she was your favorite maiden to talk to. That, and the fact that she had adapted so quickly to your ‘charming personality’. So far she was the only servant you had been willing to be honest with. Mainly about your feelings regarding your blood bond, but also just about your relationship with Cassandra in general. Something about Daphne simply made her incredibly approachable. From what you had heard, you weren’t the only one to think as such, with her being fairly popular among the castle workers.

“More of us do than you might expect. Some consider it an honor to serve one of the four Lords, and Castle Dimitrescu is certainly… nicer than either the factory or the reservoir. Personally, I came here for a friend of mine. She, well, had less of a choice. I couldn’t bear the thought of her being here without knowing anyone, so it felt like I only had one option. Can’t say I regret my decision, if you can believe it,” Daphne explained, folding laundry all the while. At the same time, you carefully sort through the not yet washed clothing, separating them into two baskets. After all, you wouldn’t want Lady Dimitrescu to end up with a pink dress! Technically this wasn’t your job, nor did you have a job at all, but you hated having idle hands- especially when talking to someone who was working. At first Daphne had protested, but she had given in upon realizing just how stubborn you could be.

“That’s… impressive. I mean, holy shit, that's a real ride or die friendship right there. Is she, uh, is your friend still, you know, around?” You stuttered, cursing your tongue for asking such a thing. If the answer was no, you were going to feel like a real asshole. Which, admittedly, you had a tendency to be. But this wasn’t one of the times where it was intentional. Thankfully, Daphne is all smiles, and even seems amused by your spluttering.

“Yes, we’re even roommates. Well, us and five others. Possibly with a sixth one on the way, if we ever get someone to fill the empty space,” she replies, pausing to think. Then she’s back to work, refusing to waste any time. “Speaking of roommates… I know I said I’m not one for gossip, and I meant it, but a little songbird told me that Cassandra seems to be in a much better mood these days. Are the two of you, well, getting along? It would be nice to know that soulmates can overcome even the roughest of introductions.” There’s a hint of something odd in her tone, and you take a moment to wonder what she’s (unintentionally) hinting at. Had she met her soulmate, only for things to go poorly?... Before answering her, you make a mental note, deciding to see if any of the other maidens had a scar across their nose.

“It’s not like she and I are dating or anything. We’re just, you know, not hating each other. Currently,” you said, shrugging. But Daphne raises an eyebrow at you, and you find yourself instinctively feeling guilty, somehow feeling small next to the shortest person you knew. “Alright, alright, we might have… Okay we kissed. And promised each other not to die, because having your soulmate die hurts like hell. Also maybe she showed me her mom’s art collection and I made a joke about the titty sculptures because holy shit, this house has a lot of titties.” At this, Daphne bursts into laughter, grinning from ear to ear.

“Amen to that, for sure.”

ii.

“So… fan of science, I see,” you say, awkwardly, bouncing a little on your heels. Next to you is the eldest Dimitrescu daughter, who had unexpectedly joined your table in the library. There were several other places she could have sat, with both more comfortable seating and more workspace, but for some reason she had chosen here. So far she hadn’t said a word. Hell, you hadn’t spoken to her since your first meeting, where she had suggested killing you. Naturally, you weren’t quite sure what to make of her. Something told you that she felt much the same about yourself.

“Fan of oversimplification, I see,” Bela counters, after a few tense seconds. Then she sets down her book- a heavy text about Romanian avian fauna- to give you her full attention. “It would be more accurate to say that I enjoy studying biology, particularly the branch of zoology.” Well, this conversation was certainly… happening. Honestly, you couldn’t tell whether she was legitimately judging you, or merely chaffing you for her own amusement.

“You’ll have to, er, forgive me for being overly broad. Consider it a side effect of my nerves, those themselves being due to our unsavory introduction. In case you don’t recall, you put that sickle of yours into my shoulder,” you reminded, with a sarcastic smile. To your surprise, Bela chuckles at this, almost as if fondly remembering the incident. Seriously, you think, why did my soulmate have to be from this family?

“Staying silent was an option. Perhaps that would have suited you better?” Bela says, now clearly teasing, smile much more genuine than your own. Knowing she had a point, you’re quick to blush, mildly embarrassed.

“Touche. I am curious, however, why you decided to sit next to me in the first place. I certainly wouldn’t have tried starting a conversation if you hadn’t,” you explained.

“Like I said… I enjoy studying zoology,” Bela replies, with a sly grin. It takes you a few moments to understand the intended implications. Once you do, however, you’re giving her a hard stare. Then you scoot your chair a few inches away from her, in exaggerated movements. “Don’t worry, I was only joking. Though you certainly are an interesting human. Much more, hmm, cheeky? Compared to the servants, at least.”

“Somehow I get the feeling that they simply prefer being alive, as opposed to not being as snippy. Except maybe Daphne, now that I think about it. Very sweet, that one,” you muse. “Regardless, I think I’ll return to my book now, for it lacks a tongue, and is therefore less likely to taunt me.” Doing just as you had said, you open the book, holding it a bit higher than what would be comfortable, so that it becomes a ‘shield’ of sorts. Nothing was quite as satisfying as subtle body language.

Accepting your words with a shrug, Bela also resumes reading, turning to a bookmarked page. Roughly an hour of relative quiet passes. Neither of you so much as glance at each other, not even when she drops the pen she had been taking notes with. In the end, you are the one who leaves first, and finally the silence is broken. You give your goodbyes, and Bela returns them politely. Though you do not know it, she sets her book down as soon as you leave, pausing to think about you. Now that things had ‘calmed down’, it was reassuring for her to know that you weren’t always full of spite. Still, you held onto your cleverness (for the most part), leaving her with no doubt about the universe’s decision. You were her sister’s soulmate.

iii.

“It’s official: I’m lost in a creepy castle. The universe hates me. Probably should have realized that sooner, considering how it decided to introduce me to my soulmate,” you mutter, scowling deeply, as you wander unfamiliar halls. How had you even gotten lost? Sure, you had taken a wrong turn, but it hadn’t taken long for you to realize your mistake! Evidently you somehow managed to make another one while backtracking. Now you were standing in the center of the corridor, hands on your hips, desperate for some maiden to come rescue you. What you really didn’t want was Cassandra to find you, because she’d make fun of you for the rest of your life. It’s not like she had specifically joked about you getting lost before. Except that was exactly what had happened.

A few minutes pass uneventfully. There aren’t even any distant sounds of life; no footsteps, nor echoing voices, nor the squeaking of floorboards. All you can hear is your own breathing. As well as the occasional sigh, admittedly. By this point, there’s a part of you that’s starting to panic. After all, there was a chance that the castle was big enough for certain sections to be abandoned. Hopefully that’s not the case, you think, I mean, they’d cut the power to those parts, right? Here’s hoping… With that in mind, you get back to wandering, figuring that you’d have to eventually run into a familiar landmark. Or better yet, someone who actually knew the castle’s layout.

When salvation at last reveals its holy visage, it is not in the form of a lowly servant, rather the muffled voice of none other than Lady Dimitrescu herself. Neither her exact words nor who she’s speaking to is clear. At first, you can’t even tell where her voice is coming from, but you quickly approach one closed door, then another, searching for the source. Several doors later you’re certain you’ve found her. By then you can tell that she’s not alone. Not wanting to seem rude by interrupting, you take a few steps back, leaning against the wall to wait. For the most part you still cannot make out what’s being said, but a few words do reach your ears.

“-expected more from you. How am I-” the voice gets cut off, not by Alcina, rather a sudden gust of air, akin to massive wings flapping. When the speaker continues, they are both louder and angrier. “Someone is listening. Have you not taken steps to ensure our privacy?” Then the door is swinging open, revealing your soulmate’s mother. At first she’s practically shaking with rage, but her expression turns to shock when she sees you.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Cassandra?” Lady Dimitrescu asks, clearly stressed, as she steps into the corridor. There’s movement behind her, although you cannot make out any details. Besides, you’re quick to answer her, wishing to avoid her wrath (and that of whoever she was speaking to).

“I’m so sorry, Lady Dimitrescu, I was walking from the dining hall to Cassandra’s studio, and I took a wrong turn. I’ve been wandering for half an hour now. When I heard your voice, I thought perhaps I could, well, enlist your assistance. But you were busy, so I figured I’d wait outside. If I had-...” you pause, gulping, as the other figure steps into view. It’s a face you’re all too familiar with. One that popped up countless times through the village, and again throughout the castle, the owner’s name always spoken with acclaim, with worship. Mother Miranda, in the flesh, wings spreading out behind her, somehow cutting a more impressive silhouette than even Lady Dimitrescu. Instantly you’re falling to your knees, knowing that your sharp tongue was no match for this practical goddess.

“Who is this, Dimitrescu? Why isn’t their blood staining your claws?” Miranda questions, gaze never leaving your trembling form.

“This… this is one of my daughters’ soulmates. They were brought in with the last group of sacrifices,” Lady Dimitrescu explains, uncharacteristically hesitant. ‘Twas a true testament to Miranda’s power, as well as her influence, that she could make someone so powerful seem so weak. Which was exactly why you were shaking with anxiety. But to your surprise, the goddess does not immediately order your execution for your trespass.

“And already they know their place, hmm? Kneeling before me?” Miranda says, a strange smile dancing on her lips. Whatever anger she had been feeling a minute prior had faded, though you couldn’t even begin to guess as to why. Regardless, both Alcina and yourself are quite relieved, though neither of you are quick to show it. “Either they have a good head on their shoulders, or you still take care of some of your duties. Very well, they may live. For now. But I expect next week’s report to be far more favorable. I don’t need to remind you of the price for failing me.” With that said, Mother Miranda turned to leave, a swirling mass of dark feathers flying past you.

A minute passes, maybe two, before either of you feel capable of speaking up.

“Let’s get you back where you belong, yes?” Lady Dimitrescu says, quietly, before placing her hand on your shoulder to guide you. Tension hangs clear and heavy over both of you. Even as you walk down corridor after corridor, the feeling does not ease. At least not until you’re back in familiar territory, near where you had originally made your mistake, finally able to breathe a little. It’s here that Lady Dimitrescu pauses to speak once more. “Tomorrow I will assign one of the servants to give you a tour, in the hopes that this does not happen again. Furthermore, I ask that you forget everything you heard earlier, for it is neither your business… or my daughter’s.” You’re quick to nod, and with that she bids you farewell, leaving you alone. Now, you think, was it left from here, or right?

iv.

“I’m just going for a walk. Why do you care so much? It’s not like it’s any of your business,” Daniela assures you, despite the fact that all you had done was say ‘hello’. If this was her attempt at casting aside suspicion, she had done a terrible job of it. What made her so nervous? Was it even worth investigating? Only one way to find out.

“You’re rather bundled up, planning on being out for long?” You ask, trying to sound casual, leaning against the wall as you did. In response, Daniela pretty much stomps her foot. There’s something odd in her expression, however, that implies your question hit a soft spot. Certainly wasn’t what you had expected. “Don’t mind me, just trying to make conversation with my soulmate’s sister. Speaking of her… have you seen Cassandra? Is she, perhaps, going with you?” A little misdirection never hurt anyone. Probably.

“No!” Daniela replies, fast as a gunshot, too much emphasis to be unintentional. But she realizes her mistake as soon as she’s made it, and makes a clear effort to relax herself. “She’s probably in her studio, doing whatever it is she calls art, on the other end of the house. Besides, I don’t want any company for this walk.” For a moment you merely squint at her, unsure of how to proceed. In the end, you decide that it really is none of your business, being more than satisfied by what teasing you’ve already done.

“Alright, alright. Well then, I’ll leave you be. Just… be careful, yeah? If you get hurt, and your mother finds out that I didn’t stop you from going… not sure Cassandra could save me,” you say, with a shrug. At first Daniela can’t decide whether to be upset or relieved, but she seemingly settles for the latter, giving you a brief nod before heading outside. As the door shut behind her, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had done the right thing.

[ghost-ghost-baby]

We're Just Friends! (Omega!bakugo x alpha!reader x omega!Izuku) pt. 3/?

Pt. 1 / / pt. 2

A/n: cannot believe we made it to pt. 3 I’m sksksksksk,,,, they finally get together! Pt 4/5 will b them all together and adjusting and then it’ll b readers bday so 👀👀

Lore: Once an Alpha reaches 21 they get their first rut, they’d either already have their mates or the rut will act as a push for them to get together and bond.

Summary: Reader and Katsuki have been friends for years, and everyone expects them to get together, until reader rescues an omega that lives in their building, and things get a touch more... complicated

Warnings: swearing, omegaverse, mad pining, Katsuki get exposed for going to therapy lmao, Izuku is kinda a shithead, Katsuki b mad insecure, reader is still dumb- everyone except for Izuku is bad at feelings

The two of you had gotten sidetracked, really quickly, it wasn’t even twenty minutes before you were putting a horror video on the tv. That was almost an hour ago, and you were about to doze off now, laying on your back with your head on the arm rest, Izuku right on top of you with his head tucked under your chin. You didn’t know how you got into this position, but you weren’t complaining, it was… nice. Perfect, almost, but something still felt like it was missi-

“Y/n- why the fuck are our stupid friends asking me about your new- Deku?” Katsuki burst through the door, already yelling, and his scent took on a burnt tinge that almost had you gagging when he slammed the door behind him.

“Kacchan! I didn’t realise you were Y/n’s roommate!” Izuku perked up almost immediately, sitting up so he was straddling you with his eyes fixed right on Katsuki.

“Wait, you two know each other-“ You tried to sit up, barely managing to turn your head to see Katsuki, Izuku was stronger than he looked, and he obviously didn’t want you moving-

“Yeah we go way back, childhood friends, right Kacchan?” Izuku’s tone was light, but you couldn’t see the feral look on his face from where you were trapped on the couch.

“Right… that doesn’t explain what the fuck you’re doing here, Deku.” Katsuki snarled, and Izuku giggled at the blonde. What the fuck kinda thing were you stuck in the middle of-

“What does it look like, Kacchan? We’re courting now! And Y/n’s already been such a good alpha, I’m surprised you didn’t ask them-“

“What does he mean you’re courting?” Katsuki’s tone was something you’d never heard before, and your heart twinged at it. “Get the fuck off of them Deku.” He walked closer to the couch, until he could grab onto your arm and haul you off, Izuku sliding back to the couch and pouting.

“He asked me on the way home and I accepted-“ Katsuki’s heart sank, he’d been too late? “I didn’t think you’d care, aren’t you courting Kiri?” Your scent was far too comforting, and the way it accompanied Izuku’s had Katsuki feeling something he definitely didn’t want to. Deku was a stalker! A creepy little nothing stalker! With great hair- no! And you looked so cute when you were confused like this-!

“Katsuki, are you okay?” You waved your hand in front of his face, and the blonde only let out another snarl. What if you found out about what he’d done to Deku, you’d never look at him the same, and from the way Deku was smirking the bastard knew it too.

“Whatever- I’m fucking going to bed.” Katsuki pushed past you, and you could only gawk as he disappeared down the hall and into his room.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this, you were meant to be with him, it had been the two of you for years! Why were you such a fucking idiot! Katsuki was fuming even as he hugged the pillow he’d stolen from your room, how dare Deku come back and steal you! Still, the nagging thought that coming back to the two of you… had felt like home wouldn’t get out of his head and it was only making him angrier.

“Katsuki? Izuku went back to his apartment, do you have any requests for dinner?” Your voice floated through his door and Katsuki opened his mouth to respond on instinct. No, if you wanted to be with Deku so badly you clearly didn’t care about him, and so he would stop caring about you.

“Katsuki? Please come out, I don’t understand why you’re upset but I want to.” You tried to keep the desperate tone out of your voice. It didn’t work, and Katsuki was biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself crooning in an attempt to calm you down.

“Okay… I’ll uh, just be in my room if you want to talk.”

This was getting out of hand, it was like you were living with a ghost. It had been three days of Katsuki ignoring you, three days of no contact whatsoever, and even though you had Izuku, and he was just… amazing, it still felt like something was missing. You actually didn’t think you’d gone this long without talking to Katsuki in- well since the two of you had met. But, it was finally the weekend, you’d have to run into him at some point, and then you could finally talk, even if he didn’t feel like it.

You were pulled into Izuku’s apartment before you could even knock, the omega giving you a deep kiss before quickly tugging you into a hug and rubbing his cheek over your scent gland.

“I missed you, Y/n! What took so long?” Izuku only pulled away when he couldn’t smell anything except you, and pride filled him when he saw you were wearing his sweater.

“Sorry Bub, I was trying to get Katsuki to talk to me but he’s still giving me the silent treatment.” You shrugged as he walked you over to the couch, something already playing in the background, and Izuku pushed you down without hesitation. You let the omega position you how he wanted, wasting no time wrapping your arms around him once Izuku settled down next to you with his head on your chest and your legs tangled together.

“You know… it does seem like he likes you, maybe you could suggest a triad? I know I wouldn’t object.” Izuku’s tone was so nonchalant you’d expected him to ask what you wanted to watch, not suggest bringing Katsuki into the relationship.

“You’d be okay with that? Really?” You hadn’t even considered that, you felt kinda stupid, honestly. Why hadn’t you- oh, right.

“I think he’s courting someone else, actually, I’m sure that’s why he’s being so weird.” You pushed any hope you had down when you remembered how much time Katsuki actually spent with Kirishima, and how close they seemed to be.

“If you say so, but I wouldn’t write the idea off, Kacchan’s always been good with surprises.” Izuku shifted to press a kiss to your scent gland, before he grabbed the remote and returned his attention to putting on a show.

It was Sunday, you hadn’t seen your roommate all weekend, this really wasn’t going how you planned. A sigh left you as you pushed open the door to your apartment, you’d been with Izuku for most of the day, and you were so, so ready to just go to sleep. You’d been exhausted for the last few days, and Denki kept commenting about how snappy you were and asking why your scent was ‘so weird man’ when the three of you had met for lunch. It was sweet how much they cared, but annoying as fuck nonetheless. You were wide awake outside your door though, almost missing the sweet caramel smell that leaked out until you had your hand on the handle. Your room didn’t usually smell like that, not unless-

“Katsuki-? What’s going on?” You pushed open the door to a very, very startled Katsuki, like a deer in headlights, really, and your confusion only grew when he was holding onto an armful of your clothes. “You could have just asked if you wanted something for your nest, but isn’t Kiri helping with that?” You closed the door behind you, and Katsuki’s eyes darted from you to the door. Fuck, you weren’t supposed to be home for another twenty minutes, you’d usually spend at least two hours at Deku’s place, why the fuck had you come back so early? Katsuki clutched the clothes tighter against his chest as neither of you spoke, you really still thought he was with shitty hair when all he really wanted was you?

“Katsuki? This is ridiculous- what’s going on with you? Why won’t you talk to me?” You stepped forward and Katsuki growled when you got within a foot of him, the sound setting you on edge and making you release a growl of your own on instinct.

“We’re gonna talk about this, I’m not letting you ignore me anymore, it sucks! It feels like there’s a piece of me missing-!” You stepped forward with every word, flinching at yourself when you heard your voice crack at the end.

“What does any of that matter? You have Deku now, the two of you are perfect together, you don’t need me anymore!” Katsuki yelled back, everything that happened the last day and the confused puddle that the state his feelings were in finally bubbling over. It was too much, he’d barely seen you and now here you were, reeking of Deku of all people, and accusing him of liking someone else.

“How could you say that? I need you, Katsuki-! I always need you! These last few days have been hell without you! It’s bad enough I have to deal with you courting Kiri, but now you don’t even talk to me and I don’t understand what’s going on!” Tears kept welling up in your eyes, and Katsuki dropped the pile of clothes on the floor, his hands balling into fists by his side.

“Because I don’t know- I don’t know what the fuck I’m feeling!” Katsuki’s voice broke, and you barely had time to open your mouth before he continued. “I thought that we- that we were set in stone, and then I come back to you and fucking Deku on the couch and fuck that hurt! But it fucking- it fucking felt like home, and all I wanted to do was join you and I don’t understand why!” He turned around to wipe his eyes, and your jaw hit the floor as you tried to process. He wasn’t… courting Kiri…?

“You’re such an idiot- you couldn’t just tell me this?” Exasperated didn’t even begin to cover how you felt.

“How could I say anything? I was horrible to Deku in school because I couldn’t deal with my feelings, why would either of you want to be with me after how awful I’ve been?” There was no anger in Katsuki’s tone anymore, and the guilty scent he was putting out was just putting you on edge.

“You regret it though, don’t you? And I know you’ve worked really hard to be better, and you even go to therapy now-“ Katsuki snarled at the last part, he hated whenever you brought up therapy, but at least you weren’t yelling.

“We actually talked it over and… Izuku and I both like the idea of a triad with- well with you, if you wanted.” You reached out to grab Katsuki’s shoulder, though he refused to look you in the eye when you turned him to face you. You had to be lying, you had to, you couldn’t mean that and he didn’t want to get his hopes up for nothing.

“Katsuki, you gotta talk to me, I can’t read your mind.” Your cards were all out on the table now, and your anxious scent was a dead giveaway to your feelings. What if you’d ruined everything? What if you’d gotten everything wrong- you were never good at guessing-

“You’re being serious? This isn’t some kind of payback?” Red eyes finally met yours and you could only nod, you still got caught of guard by how pretty he was. “Okay, I’ll join your shitty fucking triad.”

Taglist (pls lemme know if any of em r wrong)

@pasteldaze @hopeless-ro-simptic @ntngann @somerandominternetgirl-blog @ianem005 @lalaluvzen @antisocial-minnie @rogueofbullshit @hakunamatatayqueen @so-uncute @therealwalmartjesus @unlightedfool @all-the-kings-reblogs @cth-l