#but then realized that his stupid bleeding heart wouldn’t let him kill any of the bats

[arc-777]

Headcanon:

Since coming back to life, Jason has had a significantly weaker pulse to the point that no one but a very well trained medical professional could even identify it as a pulse. Also, he can for far longer without oxygen. And he doesn’t need to blink as much either. Basically all his body processes are just way slower. Maybe it’s the pit, idk. So this means that when he as red hood wants to get away from the various bats, especially Bruce, he’ll remove the red hood helmet and hide it, and then lie down and act dead. The bat in question comes across his body and, logically, thinks they they are hallucinating. At one point it happens to Bruce, who breaks down and Carrie’s his son’s body back to the manor in a fit of panic. Jason escapes as soon as Bruce looks away for a second. It happens to dick and Tim too. Alfred and cass are the only ones who know what’s up, but they aren’t gonna spoil it.

[alicerosejensen]

Please tell us you’ll do a part 2 for your head canon about Leon’s girlfriend finding out about Ada and Claire. Surely he wouldn’t just let her run off like that if he loves her.

All you need to know is that while I was writing this part, I listened to "I Love How You Lie" - Eminem feat. Rihanna. At least twenty times. Maybe more.

There is no physical violence here, but you can see a broken Lеon when his girlfriend left for TWO months without explanation. Fuck knows why Tumbler gave me some character restrictions in the last post, but out of fear I shortened some part of the text. (And this time there were no such gifts)

Tornado meets volcano.

So, a few people asked for the second part and I translated it as far as I could into English. Enjoy it if you can.

I like this text. I consider this one of my best works (I think it looks much better on the original).

If you need a translation of the third part, then let me know. Because of the fucking restriction, I'm not sure it's worth putting this whole story out.

As Cersei Lannister once said, "Love is poison. Yes, it is sweet, but it kills no worse than any other".

Because of one man, you have no desire to go out into the daylight, there is no reason to smile or laugh. The realization that for Leon you were nothing more than a beautiful doll still makes the heart bleed and quietly cry into the pillow looking for salvation in the night while everyone is sleeping.

It seems that there will be no end to this pain, and your hero turned out to be the main villain in your story, because of which you suffer. You allowed yourself to be deceived, you allowed yourself to be played with. You're the one who let a stranger become someone close. You're the one who let Leon rip out his heart, leaving a gaping wound that's slowly rotting away.

Nevertheless, you still miss his warm, slightly rough hands at night, who hugged you tightly, hugging you on cool nights. Now this whole stupid story reminds of how the moth flew into the light and eventually burned to the ground, so that only ashes remained of it. The truth is that the fire is Leon, and you are a stupid moth that has gone out. Although now, looking at the night sky, pressing your knees to your stomach, hugging yourself tightly, despite the great loss, you hope one day to start shining brighter than comets again.

Carey called last week, telling the latest news and gossip, not forgetting to mention your boyfriend who came to college looking for you, but she lied to him saying she didn't know where you were and where you disappeared. Leon hardly believed it, but he was not a man who beat the truth out of others. At least not from stupid students. But your happiness is that he did not know where your parents' house was, which means that in any case his search will not be successful.

You're very happy about it. Here you allow yourself to walk through the fields, remembering your youth and go with your father to the forest, just like in childhood jumping on the biggest stones. In the evening, the old man plays guitar to you and your mother while you and her clean up the dishes after a hearty dinner. Here at home, your wounds don't ache so much from the pain, and you look with laughter at the childhood photos taken by your mother in Calcutta, when you wrapped yourself in someone's sari trying to repeat the movements of Indian dancers. Flipping through the pages, you came across a photo with your fifth birthday, where you joyfully got dirty with a birthday cake.

And while your parents were laughing, you suddenly remembered that for some reason Leon didn't have more than one child's photo. Then, for some reason, he still said that his parents died quite early, but it was a sore subject that the two of you never touched on with him again. But he really liked to hear about your childhood adventures.

So you thought…

You so wanted to escape from the noisy city, away from Leon, and now involuntarily the soul is drawn to him. Although it doesn't make sense to dream about a summer together anymore. You had a wonderful, romantic love. You left Leon your dream of living together, but he never touched on the topic of future family with you.

It was really funny. Your father still doesn't like your first high school crush, even though you were fifteen and there was nothing between you and this guy but a chaste kiss on the cheek, this guy was forever blacklisted by your father. To make him think about Leon, who was twelve years older? Most likely, he would have tried to shoot him with his hunting rifle.

All the things, books, clothes, cosmetics, even the phone - everything is left with Leon and you will have to come back for them anyway. However, the mere thought of the collision of these sapphire eyes makes, the body goosebumps. You can lick your wounds at home, but there…all the scabs will open up again if only he touches you. If he suddenly says that Ada does not matter to him, however, by that smile and the compact in his bedside table, you realized that she would always be in the first place for him.

I wonder how long he's been looking for you? You called your friend because you wanted to clarify (and once again slash at the heart with a sharp knife of truth) whether Leon appeared in college or tried to reach you through friends, but the truth is cruel: he wasn't looking for you. Of course, it was probably stupid to worry, but you hoped that you meant something to him at least a little.

Leon has become your sweet poison.

Somehow, all thoughts returned to him alone. You are ready to fall into the abyss after him, get a hundred bullets instead of him, but it was his bullet that killed you.

Therefore, no matter how much you love him, the mind, and not the remnants of feelings, tells you a reasonable "Let him go." This is what needs to be done, and it will be the right thing to do.

Unfortunately, Leon is not the hero of Tolkien's beautiful story. He is not Beren, and you are not his Luthien. Funny comparison… But this is an analgesic balm, so you can stand firmly at the door of the apartment from which you escaped a little more than two months ago.

However, uncertainty again knocked down your legs at the very last minute, turning you into a mess with swollen red eyes, drowning in a puddle of your own tears. But to hell with it! You weren't tempted to listen to his voice or reread old messages, so why the hell are all these fucking feelings coming back out?! The cleaner handed you the keys and you exhaled with relief, hoping that you would have time to pick up all the things before Leon returned and then the need for an explanation would disappear by itself.

You will simply disappear from his life. He will cherish his love for Ada Wong or find someone who will not mind being a replacement for this irreplaceable woman.

But you cross the threshold of the house, leaving the keys on the bedside table, intending to finish it as soon as possible. This person is not capable of loving you, and by and large your days together are numbered. This is what you repeat to yourself, pulling out of the closet a large suitcase and a bag, alternately putting your things there.

Yes, you notice a few bottles of alcohol in the kitchen, a mess and your phone. Leon unlocked it, and you think that maybe he decided to check your correspondence or recent calls, but he definitely didn't find anything "criminal". Because Ada Wong didn't write to you.

Without wasting precious time, you continue packing, still taking the phone and putting it in your coat pocket. Your blouses, dresses, underwear…actually, you wouldn't mind quickly changing into more comfortable clothes than the one you took from home. But still discarding the thought of changing clothes, you zipped up suitcase, grabbing an empty bag with her free hand to put all the cosmetics there. You turn around to go to the dressing table and…freeze.

Leon.

He tricked you. He wasn't on your side. Burn it with fire, but he will not see you in tears. You won't stay with him and let him tear you to pieces. You are not the heroine of Lana Del Rey's music video…

But Leon was just silently watching your hurried movements. With those deep bruises under his eyes and a faraway look. He looked so exhausted that you wanted to go up to him and kiss him almost on a reflex level, but your brain was still saying "let him go! Save the remnants of your poor heart!"

You thought one thing, and Leon did not understand why you poured caustic poison on him in this way, running away without explaining anything. Smouldering like a coal, he was still just glad to see you alive and unharmed. And yet the sandcastle that he was building with you was now being destroyed on his hands.

The only thing Leon knows is that if he loses you, he will lose his only home.

"I can't…I'm leaving you," you whispered, still fiddling with the strap of the bag, watching the light blue eyes darken in an instant.

"What do you mean?" - Leon takes the bag out of your hands, throwing it on the bed at the same time looking strangely at the already packed suitcase. - "Baby, if you've been wanting to tell me something for a long time, then you should have done it, and not run the devil knows where without money and a phone. What was I supposed to think? Where have you been? You haven't been to college for two months!"

My God, your body is screaming again, as it did then: "Run." Although it was a lie. Leon's voice remains even, calm… and gentle. Just don't run away from him. His hand gently grabs your palm, warming it, forcing the blood to circulate through your veins. He's been so damn worried, missed you so much, that he seriously thinks he'd rather tie you to a bed and set the fucking house on fire than let you leave.

"I'm not her. But I'm not a fucking piece of cake that you can take whenever you see fit. I loved you, but I don't want to see you anymore. I don't want to talk to you and know you."

The good question is, who is going to hurt who now? Some part of you wants to cause him at least a fraction of the pain that you experienced, while Leon becomes a shadow of his former self in front of your eyes from these words. You fucking promised him! Be with him!

"I'm not Ada Wong. I'm not a mysterious spy. But I'm not your toy either, Leon. I'm the fucking person whose feelings you played with! When I loved you so much that it went beyond sanity, you loved a completely different woman!"

You're crying, turning away from him to grab the remnants of things and throw them into a fucking bag and run far, far away to start all over again. Away from Leon and his woman in red. The main thing is that he does not look at you with that sad, tired look, otherwise you will not stand it and burst into tears out loud. Do you want to yell at him when he asks one simple question, "Is it because of Ada? Is she the reason you left?"

But you turn around abruptly.

"No. The reason is you, not her. You hurt me. Not Ada. She's the part of you that you'll never let go of. "

This quote and the compact should be enough for him to understand. But it drives to lose your mind. Your love melts when you look at him and listen to his tacit consent. He would never let this woman go. And you still have some remnants of pride. "Maybe you're right." - This is what finally breaks your love. Next to him, you become quieter, smaller…Leon won another round, and you lost to him. Your heartbeat slows down, but his words finally force you not to let him touch you.

"Good" - Your lips whispered it so simply. As if it doesn't hurt at all. "I'm leaving."

"Don't!" - Almost a plea, but you jump away from Leon when he grabs you by the shoulders and pulls you to him. Despite how much you missed him, now in order to save yourself, your brain began to make a monster out of him. "I won't let you go. I love you, you know that! That should be enough!"

"But it's not enough! You love her and you will always choose her from the two of us. I'm not coming back to you anymore. I'm NOT her replacement! I won't fall into these nets anymore!

This is your end.

The last point. You don't know how to continue to believe in better days, but it's time to part. It's time to leave and forget this feeling. You resist when Leon tries to hold you to him. This is what tears apart. You just loved him. Your emotions are in a mess, you don't even realize right away that you are choking on the howl of that same beaten dog. How can you love and hate him at the same time?

That's all. Leave. Run. But you fall to your knees because you can't do anything against him! You love him so much! Whether he's a monster or a scoundrel. What should you do? It shouldn't be like that at all.

"Angel, believe me! It has not been as important as it used to be for a long time. I love you. That message doesn't mean anything!" - His hands hold you tightly by the waist, not allowing you to leave. He also loves you no less than you love him. Why didn't you just tell him what was bothering you? - "You are my love."

He's fucking lying. He wasn't even looking for you.

"Let me go!" - You scream, remembering all the nights with him without sleep, when everything was fine. You want to believe in this fucking lie, but in order to escape, you grab the very last thread, strike a fatal blow: "I don't love you anymore!"

It was painful. Leon feels a ringing in his ears and wants to loosen his grip at the last second, but for some reason he leans against the top of your head, still hoping that you are lying.

"It is not true." You both knew that. You heard only a pulse pounding and one boundless silence. You would be ashamed to look at yourself in the mirror, but Leon turns you over to face him, wiping the wet tracks of tears on his swollen cheeks with his thumbs. - "I don't believe it. Princess, if you would tell me…I was going crazy. You ran away without even explaining anything. Do you really believe that I could hurt you? I love you, not her. That's all you need to know. I will always choose you."

"I want to leave." Leon nods negatively, feeling a lump in his throat, but you want to leave him. You've already decided everything. Even for the first time, only now he continues to deprive you of strength, being your biggest weakness. Even if you feel calm right now, burying your nose in his neck, you have to do it.

"Please don't say that…"

"But it's true!"

Leon's hands close around your waist as he kisses your temple. He has found you and right now he is holding you in his arms not so that you will leave. Not so that everything that you both have been building for so long will collapse. He doesn't need tears to hurt. He needs you.

And again a single tear falls from your eyelashes. Why is he lying to your face? Why did you become his victim? But you can't order your heart and you can't lie to your soul - you want your love for him to disappear like a bird in the sky, what a pity that miracles don't happen.

You are bound by these hands and absolutely unarmed. Hell, you can't even leave as beautifully as Ada always does.

"You don't want that, I know. Please baby…We can talk about it. Look at me." - You're doing it. Idiot. You look at him when his gentle touches become rough, as long as you just don't look away. Unlikely you could have turned your head even a couple of degrees. - "It's all good."

It would be better if you died now. There is no doubt in your sincere love… he will always come back to her. Therefore, not a damn thing is all right! You're not okay! It's you who are suffering from agony, while he just needs the warmth of a young body.

This is what you shout at him, pushing him away from you, getting to your feet, grabbing a suitcase. You don't care about anything anymore! You're running away forever. Leon's reaction, however, is faster than yours, and he manages to intercept you faster than you get to the open door, throwing the damn suitcase aside.

You are probably the unluckiest girl.

A familiar record of Leon's promises that he loves you. He pinned you against the wall, hanging like a mighty rock, cutting off escape routes. At this moment, you do not have enough air, as if the breathing taps have been blocked.

"Princess…" - You smile bitterly. A princess who was banished from her own kingdom and from his heart. You turn from a princess into a prisoner. It was he who left you a deep crater instead of a heart. -"You're not her, but that's why I'm with you. I don't love you for your body. If I wanted a beautiful girl for the night, then this relationship would never have happened."

"Please go" - The request hidden from the lips responds with a dull pain inside Leon. Taking a step towards you, he bumps into an obstacle from your hands that have fallen on his chest. - "I don't want to be second place anymore."

All Leon is thinking about at this very second, while you are tearing his skin and flesh getting to his heart in shreds, which bastard drove this thought into your head?

You're the reason he's still alive. How can you want to leave him after he has allowed you to become a part of his life? He's been looking for you these fucking two months! Sometimes, in a frenzy, I rushed after every passerby thinking that it was you. You are his most beloved person, so how can you leave him?

Why has everything changed so much? Because of that stupid message from Ada and the compact, which he hadn't thought about for a long time. He just threw it away and forgot, not thinking that you can find it, but if you find it…Why didn't you just ask him about it?! He would have gotten rid of this item in front of you!

You have to stay. But you had different points of view on the situation.

He couldn't fucking sleep in a shared bed, thinking about where you were and who you were with. What if you had actually been killed in an alley somewhere? But the way your friend calmly said that he allegedly knew nothing about your whereabouts made him calm down, because he was sure that this girl was not one of those who are in the dark. So you were either with her or at least safe.

The thought of another man who could touch you the way he touched you turned him inside out. You couldn't run off to another guy to hurt him even more. That's not your style.

"You always came first." - It's true, but why the hell do you think it's a lie? How can you think that he has someone else?! What the fuck is wrong with you? - "Since came into my life. All I ever wanted was you."

Leon wants this whole two-month performance to be a fucking manipulation. God, he'll forgive you for your stupidity. He will strip you naked, hold you close and tell you that he loves you very much. The main thing is not to leave. He'll take you wherever you want, just stay with him. Don't lie to him that you don't love him!

"I don't believe you." - The end. - "You're right, my heart is full of blind love for you, but enough of this torment. My biggest mistake is to think that you loved me too. I'm tired of this pain, and if I stay here, it will kill me once. I want to be happy. But to become one of them, you don't have to be in my life! Аlthough I love the way you lie."

"Don't say that!" - Leon grabbed you, hugging you to him, which is why the familiar smell of cologne hit you in the nose, which made you want to close your eyes, enjoying it. You become a disassembled puzzle in his hands again. - "I've never lied to you! Not a single day. Princess, Ada was an important part of my life. However, what I feel for her is nothing compared to what I felt for you. Believe in it."

And that's what you want. It seems that only one step separates you from the possibility of leaving. You pressed against his shoulder-so strong, warm, safe, while his palm covered the back of your head.

So weak. Grabbed him by the back, giving a spark of hope that you will stay. Instilling in him the hope that now he will calm you down and you will put on these shackles again when he puts you on the bed and makes love sex to you.

You thought it would be easier to do.

"That's it. It's all good. I'm here with you. You're with me." - Leon's voice is shaking. If you believe him now… remember the compact in his bedside table. Push him away! Save yourself! - "I love you."

He is the one who kisses your tears from your cheeks and nose. He holds your neck, so it seems he can squeeze it until it crunches in order to end your life, but Leon just strokes the skin with his thumb.

Leon's heartbeat slows down, returning to a normal rhythm. And you are his little favorite toy, which he takes away from the door, confident that everything is in the past. Sure he convinced you. And you take six whole steps forward with him, glancing at the suitcase he threw.

Your pulse is pounding in your temples. If you stay, then only God will know how much loneliness you can endure. Leon may not be cheating on you physically, but his thoughts will always be with the woman in red. With Ada. He will always come back to her.

If you stay, you will lose yourself forever. You suddenly thought that one day you would want children, but Leon's work does not imply their presence. Then even they won't be your outlet. And one day, the best solution would be to just kill yourself. Poison, knife, rope… you will be so broken by him that you will absolutely not care.

You're leaving. Point.

Don't forget about all the happy moments that he gave you, but don't you dare let him destroy you!

If you can't leave like Ada, then do it your way. Even if it looks ugly and pathetic. You may look like a beaten dog, but you will be ALIVE.

Someday this day will be just a nightmare from which you could wake up. Just find a little strength in yourself to take the handle of the suitcase and… leave.

Then you bend down, grab the handle and lift your luggage off the floor as Leon takes a few small steps away from you, intending to remove the empty bottles and finally throw Ada's compact away. He knows that you picked up the suitcase and for ten whole seconds was sure that you just want to put things back in their places.

So scary.

Both him and you.

"Sorry." - You exhale. It's so complicated. Either God is such a masochist, or you yourself. Leon looks at you and doesn't believe you. Some strange smile appears on his lips mixed with despair.

"Sweetheart, wait."

"Goodbye Leon"

And you're really leaving him.

You run out of the apartment like the first time, leaving him alone. But you won't come back.

Your days together were numbered.

[whumpwillow]

Demon’s Haven 8

I’m doing it guys...I’m writing

—  

masterlist

warnings: blood, past torture, not much else this time 

—

Haven held the demon’s gaze and waited until he nodded at her. She took it as acknowledgement, or permission, that she could begin. She needed to regardless—she couldn’t have him stay like this, bleeding and wrecked as he was. But given his fear, she at least wanted to make sure he was prepared and knew the water she used to cleanse his wounds wouldn’t sear his skin.

It wasn’t within her knowledge if demons were able to get sick or if their wounds would become infected—no one she’d ever met had ever had the experience of injuring one and sticking around long enough to see what happened. Haven just didn’t want him to suffer any more than he already had. He’d been through enough.

She fetched a cloth from her mountain of supplies and dipped it in the bowl of water. Regular, clean, and not-at-all-holy water that she’d gotten from the tap. She made a mental note to let him watch her fill the bowl next time and see if that made him less afraid. She’d need to draw him a bath to get the worst of the dirt off and out of his hair, but that could come later.

Haven took his hand gingerly in her own to start off with something small and unobtrusive. She thought to ease him into it before getting to the more grotesque wounds—no doubt those would hurt no matter what she used on them. She dabbed the cloth over the demon’s bloody knuckles and he flinched.

“Does that hurt?”

It was a stupid question. The poor thing had been tortured, brutally and without mercy. And due to her forgetfulness, he’d also been thrown from her doorstep to land on his already-broken bones. Of course he’d be hurt.

The demon shook his head. “No, it…it just feels cold.”

“Mm,” Haven hummed. She set down her cloth and picked up the bowl. “I’ll get some warmer water then.”

The demon’s eyes widened and without warning, the hand she was holding snapped out and grabbed her wrist. She nearly dropped the bowl in shock, some of the water splashing out and onto the floor. For a brief moment, her heart sped up, thinking that this was it, this was the moment the demon would reveal his true nature and kill her. That everything up until now had been a careful manipulation and that demons could never be rid of their base nature.

She felt horrid for thinking so when she looked into the demon’s eyes. Wide and pleading, he watched her.

“Please, don’t. I—I—” he said.

Haven gave him a single nod. “Okay.”

The demon seemed to realize he was still holding onto her wrist and snatched his hand back, clutching it to his chest as if her skin had burned him. The fear on his face transformed into that of abject terror, but Haven’s observation of it was short-lived as the demon bowed to her, forehead down to face the floor.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean, I just didn’t want—I didn’t want to be burned again, I’m sorry—”

Haven set down the bowl with a light tap and sighed. The sight of the demon bowed to her in complete submission never got any easier to bear.

“Shh,” she murmured. “You’re alright. It’s alright.”

It took a while, but eventually she got him to calm down enough that he stopped begging her not to hurt him. She threaded her fingers through his hair and stroked back and forth with her thumb. Haven felt him sigh rather than heard it, a subtle sag in his shoulders as he relaxed into her touch. She removed her hands from his hair and placed one under his chin, then gently coaxed it so he would lift his head and look at her.

“I’m not going to burn you,” Haven soothed.

She dipped the cloth into the bowl of water and gently set it on a wound on his cheek, dabbing lightly at the abused skin.

“See?”

Haven smiled at him, hoping that it would keep him calm. It seemed to work, as he no longer trembled as much under her fingertips.

The demon was filthy, covered in blood and dirt, more so than what she could wash off with a few scrap cloths and a bowl of water. His face was covered in so many bruises and so much grime it was hard to tell what would come off and what wouldn’t, and the tattered remains of his clothes—merely a pair of trousers—were caked with mud. His hair was the worst of it, though matted with blood as it was, it still felt soft to the touch. She’d have to prepare a bath for him if she wanted to make any progress at all.

It would have to wait. Seeing his reaction to merely the idea of cleaning his wounds, she hated to imagine how he’d take being immersed in water. To think whoever—or whatever—did this to him had used holy water on him when they must have known what it would do to a demon.

Haven breathed out a long exhale, her shoulders drooping. She rinsed out her cloth in the bowl and then twisted it to wring out the excess water.

She knew that holy water had been used to torment him. She’d seen it when he first appeared in the summoning circle and back when she’d thought this was all a trick, just some clever mockery. The marks stood red and weeping on his skin, emblazoned clearly even now, as if they’d been painted on by a delicate hand.

Thinking back to that time made her feel ill. How she’d treated the demon then, even seeing it’s wretched state…

She trailed the cloth over the demon’s left cheekbone. The demon blinked, fanning her hand with his eyelashes. She cupped his cheek with her other hand and gently wiped away at the dirt and blood caked on his skin. Up close, he really was beautiful under all the mess. Deep, viridian eyes the same shining quality of cut emeralds, with long dark lashes to cover them. A sharply-planed face complete with defined cheek bones, and a nose marred only by a line of scarring where it had been broken too many times.

“Who did this to you?” Haven found herself asking before she could stop the words from slipping through her lips.

The demon flinched at the question and Haven drew her hand back, away from his face. The demon swallowed uncomfortably. A lick of guilt flashed in Haven’s stomach. She knew she shouldn’t have asked; she didn’t want to pry information out of him when it was clearly still so fresh in his mind, should have waited until he was ready.

“The angel,” the demon responded, interrupting her thoughts.

Haven raised a brow. “An angel did this to you?”

Well that was new. She’d heard many stories of demons coming to the city, but never angels. Not to mention the typical image of them didn’t conjure up such things as blatant torture. A far cry from feathery-winged saviors of peace and justice.

The demon nodded. He avoided Haven’s gaze.

“It’s okay,” she said. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

The demon’s eyes flicked to hers. He tilted his head to the side as if confused, and his lips parted slightly, brow furrowed.

Haven didn’t comment on it and gently took up his hand and set it in the bowl of water, watching as it washed over his bloody knuckles. She dabbed at them with her cloth and then raised it up out of the water to drip some over his wrists, circled with a thick band of scarring. Pink and raw, it looked like he’d been tied with some nasty ropes or…well, Haven didn’t want to know. Not yet.

She dabbed at them with the cloth.

Shifting on to the demon’s neck, she cleaned that up, then his shoulders, then his collarbones. She moved her hands down his chest and felt the demon shudder under them.

“Is that too cold?” she asked.

The water had gone icy a while ago, but she didn’t want to leave him alone to get a new bowl if he was desperate enough to grab her like he did before. Haven looked up at the demon. His face had grown red, and he was avoiding her gaze again, but he seemed otherwise fine. No tears pricked at the edges of his eyes, so she figured she was in the clear on how he was faring.

He shook his head.

Haven went back to cleaning the wounds. They littered his chest almost as much as the holy water burns did, some deep and others shallow. What she was going to do about the broken ribs and fingers…she didn’t know. The way his chest expanded and contracted looked distinctly wrong, but she was no doctor and was hoping a demon wouldn’t need one.

“Do demons have healing powers?” Haven asked as she washed a gash on his side.

The demon nodded again, but realizing Haven wouldn’t have seen it as she wasn’t looking at him, he spoke up.

“Y-yes, we do.” He balled up a fist and put it to his lips. “Typically, we’re supposed to heal instantly…but…”

Haven paused. She felt the demon’s flesh jump as the slightest tremor wracked through him, though it seemed he was trying his hardest to conceal it. She wondered if she should press him, though curiosity ate away at her. Besides, she had to know if he would heal on his own or if she really did need to find a manner of fixing the greater wounds herself.

“But?”

“The…angel…” came his stilted reply.

The demon winced. Haven nodded silently, waiting for him to continue.

“The angel…their powers affect us differently. Even their presence itself is painful. To be hurt by one, the wounds will last…a lot longer than they normally would.”

He shivered then, wrapping his arms around his midsection and cutting off Haven’s access to the wounds she was currently cleaning. She set the dirty cloth down in the bowl of water. It needed refreshing anyway, and the cold water couldn’t have been pleasant. The demon took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes as if to shield himself from the memories of his torment. Or perhaps he was falling back into them.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Haven began. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories. I just wanted to know if you were going to heal on your own.”

The demon’s eyes snapped open and filled with fear. Haven hated that she kept being the reason that kept happening.

“On my own?” he croaked, voice pitifully small.

Haven frantically shook her head. “No, no, I meant, I just wanted to know if I should learn how to treat broken bones or if they’d just fix themselves…” she said, trailing off lamely at the end. “I’m not going to abandon you.”

The demon sagged with relief, releasing a breath. “Thank you.”

Haven gave him a small smile and, slowly, as to make sure not to startle him, set her hand on his shoulder. “I’d never do that to you. I just want to see you feel better.”

And she meant it. It’d been mere days since she met the demon, and a few of those were spent in fear and distrust, but she’d come to care about him as she would any other witch she met in the city. She wanted to protect him from what had caused all this pain, to shelter him from the memories that no doubt plagued him, and to give him the comfort that Haven was sure he wouldn’t find in many other places were he to venture out into the world. People wouldn’t be kind to a demon.

Angels, it seemed, were even worse.

—

next

(taglist in reblogs)

[s0ulryo]

König with a Medic S/O Scenario *:･ﾟ

[König x Reader] Synopsis: König getting patched up by his favorite medic —you. Tags: Soft, konig lovers we rise, established relationship (i forget to put this tag on a ton of things whoops), mentions of distress (?) Notes: Prolly ooc, not proofread, his voice is so mmmmm, also my brain blanked so many times while writing this so im vv sorry for the wonky formatting

Thank you @uselsshuman for letting me write about this!

(Reader is always gn unless specified otherwise.)

König dislikes a lot of things. He wouldn’t say he hates anything but the list of dislikes has grown over the years. For example, König dislikes crowded places, the smell of cigarettes, getting injured, having to go to a medic to treat his injury, having to see you — who is a medic to treat his injury, having to get chewed out by you for obtaining an injury — you get the point.

So here he sits, listening to you freak out about the injury he obtained while being deployed. He knows you don’t mean any harm by it; you’re just concerned for his safety — König appreciates it, he really does — but he’s also a little stressed out by your current commentary.

“Oh my God — König, how the hell did you manage to do this?”

He honestly doesn’t think it’s that bad; sure, the wound looks terrible — but it doesn’t feel too horrible, so it can’t be too bad, right?

Wrong.

“König, are you listening to me? König, are you alright?”

König’s very thankful for you. He thinks you’re awfully nice and very understanding about his feelings, and in all honesty, he’s not sure how he managed to get with someone like you, but he’s not going to question it — he’s just going to enjoy it.

“Sorry, could you repeat what you just said?” König mumbles out sheepishly.

He can’t help it. You’re exceptionally attractive, and König now realizes his arm is in an exceptional amount of pain — and bleeding tremendously. ‘Things like attractive S/O and immense amounts of pain due to physical injury usually make it difficult to focus,’ he reasons to himself.

Sighing, you shake your head. “König, please try to avoid getting injured — this is the second time this week….”

Nodding softly in acknowledgment, König continues to watch you gather the supplies you need to patch his arm up; his eyes flicker around in discomfort, bouncing his leg up and down to keep his mind occupied. Sure he’s sustained worse injuries than this, but getting patched up has always made him anxious.

Swallowing thickly, König tries to place himself out of this situation – somewhere nicer than your medical workspace that smells like antiseptic – anywhere else than here.

He watches you set to work, his eyes closely following the movement of your hands on his arm, cleaning the wound gently, trying to make the process quicker and easier on him.

He’s vaguely aware that his breathing got heavier or how he’s feeling light headed, heart in his throat – vaguely aware that you’re calling his name.

“…ig” “…önig”

He can see you talking, but he can’t hear you very well; bouncing his leg more rapidly, he tries to say anything to tell you how he feels, but he can’t get any words out.

“..ey…hey big guy – look, I’m here, you’re alright – okay?” You try to get him to focus on you, not necessarily your words but just on you.

"Try to take a big breath, big guy – yeah, just like that – breathe in, breathe out…You're doing great König.”

Following your instructions König (tries) to take a deep breath in and out, focusing on what you smell like and your voice. König feels a little stupid, he’s gotten shot – almost killed before, but he can’t take a little doctor's visit? So yeah, it's definitely a critical hit on his ego; he’s just glad it’s you with him.

After calming down a bit König bites the inside of his cheek, diverting his eyes to the door to the far left of the room. He considers bolting out of your office – he won’t have to get patched up, and he won't have to face you, so it’s a win-win situation—

“König dear, don’t try to run out of the room,” you tell him firmly, more so for you than for him – if he decides to make a hasty exit, you conclude that you would not be able to catch the injured man.

“…Am I that obvious [Name]?”

“Yes, dear…You are pretty obvious.”

The silence in the room was deafening, not super awkward – just a bit tense.

König sighs, visibly deflating in his chair; he mutters an apology, watching your figure look in the bottom drawer of your desk. He feels like he’s back in primary school when kids would make fun of him, leaving him all embarrassed.

Well, in this situation, he feels more ashamed than embarrassed.

He continues to watch you shuffle through the drawer until you find what you were looking for – suddenly, you turn to him, smiling triumphantly, motioning for him to stick out his hand to take what you were holding.

“What is it [Name]?” König asks, reaching out for the unknown object in your hand.

Upon further examination, König realizes the object is made of solid metal and cylindrical – resembling a car transmission.

“It’s a fidget toy! I like that one personally because I like the feeling of the transmission shifting gears – but I have some other ones if you would like.”

König stares at you dumbfounded. Diverting his eyes to the small toy in his hand, he starts to mess with it.

“König, I’m going to continue patching you up, alright? Please let me know if you need anything….”

Nodding, he continues to mess with the toy in his hand, gnawing at his bottom lip to suppress a smile.

König, a man that stands at six foot ten inches, just received a fidget toy from his medic S/O – how could he not smile?

“König, I’m done cleaning the wound, but you’ll need some stitches, alright? I’ll try to make this as quick as possible.”

König continues to watch you work while shifting the fidget toy from first gear to sixth gear, grateful for the newfound distraction from the distressing environment he’s currently in. He’s also immensely thankful that you are walking him through everything you do – even though he’s not entirely listening.

“Finished! All patched up, big guy – how are you feeling?” You say, tying off the final stitch on König’s arm.

“Better – I feel better,” König says, fumbling with his words, speaking with such haste, appearing as if you caught him off guard.

“Great, I’ll write down the care instructions for your stitches, so you don’t forget – come back here in two-ish weeks to remove the stitches, alright?

Standing up, he shyly extends his hand out to you, offering to return the toy you graciously lent him.

“Oh, you can keep that big guy – you seem to like it…So you can have it.”

König stares at you dumbfounded again, shifting his gaze from you to the small toy in his hand, back to you.

“…You sure?” König asks you quietly.

“Positive.” You respond, pushing his extended hand back towards him. “I want you to have it.”

König thinks he’s going to combust.

His awfully nice, exceptionally attractive S/O just watched him break down, patched him up, and gave him a gift. He’s not sure what he has ever done to be treated with such care, but if he thinks about it any longer, he might start to cry.

Bending down, he mutters a ‘thank you’ into your neck, tightly wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“König..?” He hears you say softly, “Can we stay like this for a while..?”

Humming in approval, he pulls you closer to him, slightly swaying side to side, putting more of his weight on your body to keep you in place.

You don’t know what injuries König will acquire the next time he’s deployed, but for now, your mind is here – at this moment, with König holding you in his embrace and the steady beating of his heart proving that he’s alive and that he loves you.

[tooweirdforyou]

Straw Hats With A Suicidal! Shipmate

message @pixelkittycomet » Hi, I love your stories/scenarios. I has an idea for my one piece fan character, (this is a bit touchy so idk) but I was curious how do you think luffy and the straw hats would react if their y/n crew mate tried to take their own life? Like they caught them just in time or something? Sorry if it's too serious.

-

Hello! First of all, thank you. And second, I wasn’t sure if this was a request, I don’t think it is- and I also took a look at your character and I think it’s really good. Also, wasn’t sure if you wanted together or separate.

I won’t dwell too much into this topic, since it’s very sensitive. I also changed it up a little bit. I did do something similar to this before though.

WARNING : mentions of suicide, suicidal thoughts, methods of suicide, self-harm, etc.

PLEASE USE CAUTION! NEGATIVITY AHEAD! PLEASE BE CAREFUL! I WILL NOT BE WRITING ANYTHING LIKE THIS AGAIN, I hope.

-

Luffy

LUFFY wouldn’t quite understand. He’s never had to lose a loved one like this before..

“[Name]?.. what are you doing?”

The loud gasp that escapes your lips is heard as you snap up with wide eyes and turn around to face your Captain, who’s staring at you with eyes just as wide as yours.

“Why are your hands bleeding? Did you get hurt?” His clueless tone and the tilt of his head makes your heart pound against your chest, quickly shifting to hide your hands from his sight.

“Luffy!- blood? I, I don’t see any blood. I’m fine, really. Why are you here again?”

“I.. came to see what the noise of crying was coming from.” He mutters out almost inaudibly, his eyes widening by the second at the slow realization.

You, hiding your hands with teary, puffy red eyes and the bloody water filled sink.

The first thing Luffy felt was rage.

You, of all people, were thinking of doing something like this? What could be so horrible to take it this far and deliberately hurting yourself?

And why didn’t he see this sooner, so he could stop it?

But instead of lashing out at you, he lowers his head to hide his face, and slowly walks towards you, before eventually jumping at you, and lunging to wrap his arms around your body, forcing the two of you onto the floor.

With his tight embrace around you, Luffy leans into your ear and you were able to hear his weak voice to you.

“I’m sorry..for not noticing sooner.. so please..” his voice cracks and you sensed he was crying with his frail, trembling voice.

“Please don’t hurt yourself anymore..”

-

Nami

Nami wouldn’t even know how to react, she’s just stunned but once realization hits, genuine fear and panic flashes in her eyes and she’s yelling at you desperately.

The navigator was simply hoping to rest and relax in the aquarium lounge.

So when she walks through the door, she’s not expecting the sight of you trying to take your own life.

“W-What are you doing...?!”

Quick to react, Nami pulls out her Clima-Tact and fires a lightning bolt towards the suspended tied rope before you could even stick your head through the loop, successfully burning the rope.

“Nami! What are you doing here? Why’d you do that?!”

Hearing you made her scoff in disbelief, glaring at you through her quick teary eyes.

“You’re asking me why I did that?! Are you listening to yourself?!”

If you still didn’t listen and insisted on arguing, Nami doesn’t hesitate to slap some sense into you.

“HOW STUPID CAN YOU BE!?”

It would be silent as soon as she slapped you.

“I can’t believe you’d even think about this!”

Her voice is weak and she’s trembling, yet her cries and glares didn’t falter for a second.

Tears continue to stream down her face as she wipes them away, before she lunges herself at you.

“Are you trying to make us suffer by doing this?! Did you even care to think how we feel? How I’d feel?..”

Her lectures didn’t stop, even through her sobs.

“Don’t you.. EVER, think about doing this again! Okay?!.. just.. just come talk to me.. you idiot..”

-

Zoro

Zoro tends to yell because he doesn’t know how else to comfort or cope, and it’s just the stress he’s feeling from almost losing you.

The swordsman let out a heavy sigh as he climbs up to the crows nest after taking a quick break for a drink.

As soon as his head pops up through the little door to enter, he’s startled to find you, playing with one of his swords.

Specifically, the Wado Ichimonji.

Though, perhaps “playing” wasn’t the correct term. Either way, the sight of you angling it towards your neck to slice was something that instilled pure paralyzation and shock into him.

“What..-“ Zoro sprung into action, immediately jumping to push the sword away from you, shoving you away and onto the couch of the crows nest.

The impact forced into you from the shove made you grunt, knocking the air out of your lungs as you peer up at your assailant.

“Zoro? What are you doing?!”

“That’s my line, dumbass! What the hell was that just now?! Huh?! Were you really planning on taking your own damn life here?!”

“Shut it! You have no idea what I was planning!” You retort and Zoro scoffs. “I think I had a pretty good idea.”

“Tch. Even then, it’s not your problem!-”

“Of course it’s my fucking problem, [Name]!” That shut you up.

Zoro let out a deep breath and stared at you with his piercing eyes.

“Did you even think about how the people on this ship would feel? If they saw you doing something like this?.. what about Luffy? Did you give a damn about how our dear captain would react if his precious crew member, that he took the time to know and recruit to his crew, took their own life without an explanation?”

You didn’t say anything. You felt the tears brimming your eyes at him but you couldn’t say anything.

“Damn it, [Name]..” The swordsman looks down, shadow casted over his eyes and the clenched fists he had made his nails dig into his skin, veins forming.

Eventually, he slowly relaxes and walks to you, seeing your teary eyes and knelt down in front of you.

“Don’t fucking do this again, okay?.. please.. please don’t leave me alone like this...”

-

Sanji

Sanji would burst into tears the instant he realized it, all the regret and pain burying itself into him for not noticing your pain. He’ll beg you to stop. But he’ll definitely be yelling / comforting too.

The chef who wakes early to get started on breakfast for the day, whistles a quiet tune while brushing away the morning drowsiness.

And due to his exhaustion, when he opens the kitchen door, he doesn’t believe his eyes at first, but a quick second glance lets him know it’s real.

Seeing you, standing over the sink with a common kitchen knife ready to cut. Definitely not vegetables.

“[N-Name]-chan... what..”

The panicked expression you held while you snapped your head up towards him made his heart break.

“Sanji! You’re up early..” Sanji watches as you frantically move to hide the knife and rinse your hands, as if you were merely washing up.

“I just thought I’d help you out a little bit is all! Since you’re here, let’s get started, yeah?” You let out a awkward, nervous laugh and turn off the water.

Sanji felt tears brimming his eyes when he realized just what you were about to do. “[Name]-chan.. were you.. just..”

He’s in utter shock and disbelief, the pained look his eyes held made your heart sink to your stomach at the sight.

“How can you do this? What happened? What made you even think of doing this?”

Sanji didn’t hesitate to rush to you, grabbing you by your shoulders and tightening his grip. “Tell me, [Name]! How can you go so far as to attempt to do this?!”

Tears are cascading down his cheeks rapidly, before he pulls you into his chest in a tight embrace.

“Please don’t lose value in your life like this, [Name]-chan.. you deserve to live.. don’t take this for granted..”

Sanji can feel his shirt start to get wet but he didn’t care, rubbing your back and hiding his teary face. “Whatever it is you’re suffering from, i will help you through it. I promise.”

-

Usopp

Usopp would be frozen and panicking in the spot, before shouting at you with pleas and blabbers, before forcing you by tackling you to the ground.

Seeing you standing on the edge of the railing catches the sniper off guard. He was simply leaving his room to go to the bathroom when he sees you.

The moonlight is shining down on your form, and if Usopp wasn’t so concerned and didn’t have a sinking feeling at the sight of you, he might’ve thought you were a goddess.

“[Name]? What are you doing up? Get down before you fall!”

Upon being deeply lost in thought, you barely heard Usopp’s voice but managed to catch it.

You turn around to face the sniper and you offer a weak, teary smile which startles the poor guy. “..Usopp.. I should ask you that.”

Instead of responding, he widens his eyes and runs over. “Hey, were you crying?.. why? What’s wrong, [Name]? Should I go wake the others? Or chopper?” He was internally panicking.

“I’m fine.” You cut him off and turn back to the sea, shifting your weight as your smile fades and you stare at the water below you solemnly.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Usopp, surprised, nonetheless nods and leans against the railing beside you, still hoping you’d come down.

“Usopp... will you.. let me die?.. will you kill me?”

Silence.

Frozen.

His body froze. His mind blanked. His blood stopped circulating. Nothing could be heard but the ocean waves washing around the sea.

Immediately, Usopp did the first thing that came to mind and ran at you, wrapping his arms tightly around your legs to prevent you from what he assumed was jumping.

“STOP! I WON’T EVER DO THAT! DON’T SAY STUPID THINGS LIKE THIS! HOW CAN YOU SAY THIS AFTER EVERYTHING WE BEEN THROUGH TOGETHER?! PLEASE DON’T DO THIS, [NAME]!”

Loud sobs were quick to escape the sniper’s mouth as snot and tears cascades down his face, roughly pulling you and tackling you down to the ship’s deck so you weren’t on the railing anymore.

“Agh- Usopp—“

“PLEASE DON’T EVER THINK THIS WAY AGAIN! I...” Usopp stares down at you before shutting his eyes tightly, tears flowing nonstops, his grip around you unmoving, as if he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you..”

-

Chopper

Chopper would be screaming and sobbing endlessly, hugging your leg as his desperate pleas reach your ears.

Humming a sweet tune, with a carton of milk in his hoofs, the little doctor steps into his medical office and instantly, his once bright smile drops into a look of horror.

“[NAME]!”

Milk tossed aside, Chopper is quick to come bouncing by you slouched over, a half-empty flask of a green liquid in hand and your shallow breathing behind heard.

“Ch..Chopper.. hi..”

The little reindeer has pure fear lit in his eyes as he takes the flask from your hands and looks to see what’s in it.

“Why did you touch this?! This is a dangerous chemical, [Name]!” Chopper panics, fumbling through his book to find a quick antidote, ignoring your weak protests.

How could you go through his things and drink the deadly chemical?!

“Chopper, stop..”

The little doctor wasn’t listening, tears blocking his vision as he tried to read the words and began mixing some of his liquids together to begin working.

“This,.. and this.. no, this isn’t right-! Where’s Traffy when I need him!?” Chopper cries as he frantically mixes the liquid, eyes flashing towards you in worry.

You didn’t say anything, closing your eyes and felt sweat forming on your forehead and felt your temperature raising.

Weakly, you manage to wrap your arms around Chopper’s little body and hugged him like a stuffed animal.

“Thank you, Chopper... I appreciate it.. but.. I’m fine.”

“[Name]...”

Choked sobs slipped from his mouth as he grips the flask tightly, persistent in finding the cure for you.

The chemical you took wasn’t completely unknown but it was still foreign enough to Chopper that he didn’t know how long you had or how deadly it even was.

“I’m not giving up. I don’t want you to die! I don’t know or care what brought you to do something as drastic as this. But YOU’RE MY FRIEND! and I don’t want you to leave me alone!”

“So please... don’t die, [Name]..”

-

Franky

The silence Franky has is painful, he’s feeling mixed emotions at the thought of losing someone dear to him again. He’s angry, clearly but he doesn’t yell at you. Instead, he shares his thoughts.

The cyborg stare solemnly, his sharp eyes boring right into your slouched, teary, and sobbing figure.

The blade that was once in your hands was now discarded, unused and forgotten. Franky made sure of that last second.

He walks up to you, looming over you from behind as he pulls out a tissue with his mini hand and holds it out for you to take, still keeping silent since he came in.

You eased your sobs a bit and muttered a quiet gratitude before taking the tissue. You weren’t sure what Franky was thinking and honestly, you weren’t sure if you wanted to know.

“..feeling better?”

A startled pause came from you as you froze for a second before relaxing and nodding. “..yeah.”

“Good.”

“Franky.. I-“

“I don’t need to know.”

Interrupting you, Franky continues to look at you before going around and sitting on the ground in front of your form so you would face him.

“I don’t know why you did this. I don’t need to know either, but if you want to tell me, I’ll listen. However, I won’t apologize for what I did just now, I won’t ever let you hurt yourself like that when I’m here.”

You stay quiet, letting Franky continue but his words are enough to make you start tearing up again.

“A life is not a choice. You should value it and keep living for the ones you love and for the ones that love you. Everyone on this ship is a loved one that cares about you and I’m sure you’re aware of that, but you must’ve forgotten. It’s okay to forget that though, because I’ll be here to remind you. Understand? No one on this ship wants you to do this ever. We love you more than you know.”

Wiping the shedding tears that continue to escape, you peer up at Franky and see him offering a genuine, assuring smile.

“So don’t do this again and live. You got an amazingly crafted and you are part of this SUPER~ pirate crew, the Straw Hats!”

-

Robin

Even if this has nothing to do with her whatsoever, Robin will never forget nor live down the guilt and regret of letting you even thinking about doing something like this.

Unable to sleep, the archaeologists was simply resting on her lawn chair on the upper deck, where her beautiful flowers laid.

Robin, resting her eyes as the sunset settles in the bay of the ocean, slowly disappearing. However, the quiet patter of footsteps creaking onto the upper deck made her open her eyes.

With one glance, Robin was able to see your figure quietly heading to a particular area of the garden, which was Usopp’s large plants, and also a view blocker.

Robin furrows her brows and quietly sat up, crossing her arms and shut her eyes, quickly forming a pair of eyes near you.

The sight of you hunched over, plucking at one of Usopp’s plants makes her eyes widen as she quickly sprouts arms.

“Cinco Fleur!”

Instantly, two pairs of arms formed and forcefully grabbed your wrists apart, a third pulling Usopp’s plant away from you and two more forcing you to back up.

“What the hell?!” You curse and struggled in the movement. “Robin?!”

“[Name]! What are you doing messing with Usopp’s poisonous plants?”

The historian shows herself to you as she continues to hold you in a bind, so you wouldn’t move. The pained and confused expression on her face almost makes you feel guilty, for you withheld.

“Poisonous? O-Oh, I had no idea. I thought they were vegetables!— Anyways why are you awake at this time??”

“I should be asking you that, picking vegetables at this hour?..” Robin mutters skeptically, tilting her head as her expression saddens.

“Don’t tell me you were...”

The turn of your head and avoidance of her gaze let her know your true intentions and she can almost hear her heart breaking.

“why?..”

You didn’t say anything and clenched your fists tightly, shutting your eyes and ignored the fact that she had released you.

“I’m sorry, Robin.. I can’t do this anymore..”

“To go this far? I didn’t think..” she continues to trail off, her eyes quickly becoming glassy and lost, painful memories of her own suicidal thoughts arising.

Robin sinks down to her knees and brings her hands to her face, tears brimming her eyes. “I don’t want you to do this, [Name].. you deserve so much and.. I want to keep seeing you on this ship.. I’m sorry.. I want you to keep living but I caused you to..”

Guilt became overbearing and you ran to her aside, engulfing her in a tight embrace, sniffling your own tears.

“Don’t, I’m sorry. For doing something so stupid with my life...”

Robin exhales gently and wipes her tears, looking up at you. “Say it.. please?”

You offer a small, genuine smile and nod.

“I want to live... I mean it.”

-

Brook

Brook feels great pain and sorrowful memories run through his mind, the thought of losing more precious people to him breaks his nonexistent heart.

The undead musician exits the bath, a towel wrapped around his hip bone to cover his lower regions and a towel tied around his hair at the top.

“Ah~ another refreshing wash from the bath.. I wonder how it’ll feel to bathe in a tub of milk.”

Brook’s walk was cut short as he notices you, attempting something quite dangerous that not even Luffy would try. Yet, something about it was familiar.

His eye sockets widen as he runs over. “[Name]-san!” Hearing the familiar voice, your startled self drops the object and it shatters instantly.

“Brook! You scared me!”

“Apologies... may I ask you what you were doing with that?..” Brook carefully asks, taking note of every action you made. He could feel how serious this seemed.

You bit your lip and turn away, kneeling down to pick up the pieces. “Nothing.. I just...”

‘Ah... I see.’

Distracted, you nearly jump when a few phalanges grab a hold of your wrist.

Brook’s tight grip forced your hold on the shattered pieces to release as he pulls it away and pulled you away from the mess.

“...” Even if you didn’t tell him, Brook already had a pretty good idea. He wasn’t stupid after all, his own crewmates often did similar things and it costed them their lives.

However, he could tell yours was intentional.

“Your life means more than you think.”

The skeleton spoke this as he begins to lead you to Chopper’s office, noticing you had cut your hand a bit.

“I don’t understand why anyone would take their own life deliberately like so.. no matter what the possible reason could be.. nothing is worth the attempt to take a life so precious, that you only have one of..”

Silence overtook you as you take in his words, feeling a swarm of emotions filling you inside.

“I won’t ask what’s going on but know that I and everyone else is always willing to listen...”

Outside Chopper’s office, Brook stops and turns to look down at you.

“[Name]-san. I’m sure you remember my backstory, right?”

You weakly nod, avoiding his gaze which he didn’t mind.

“Then you know that I am actually dead. However, I didn’t choose to die. Life chose for me.. and even with this devil fruit, I am given another chance at life, but at a cost.”

Tears were finally escaping you, silent sniffles being heard here and there as you continue to listen to him.

“Lives are not something to be taken lightly, and even if I am actually dead, I don’t regret this chance and am taking this opportunity to do better and I’m happier too. I’m with a new crew and family who I will protect and take care of, even if I die again to do so. You are one of them I will die for, if I have to.”

“[Name]-san.”

By then, you were a teary mess but that didn’t stop you from looking up at the tall musician as he offers his teethy smile.

“Remember. Your life means so much more than you think, hold more value for it. If you want to talk, I’m always here to listen and if you want a little song, I’m always happy to oblige.”

You muster up a weak smile through your tears as you nod and wrapped your arms around him tightly and gratefully.

“Thank you, Brook..”

His arms wrap around your smaller figure as he leans down more, smile softening as he chuckles.

“Yohohoho~! of course, any time.”

-

A/N : sorry this took so long, hun. Hope you still can see this when it posted it. I’m also sorry if it’s not great or what you expected.

I think the best one is Brook or Zoro.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 6

Summary: Losing someone can make you realize what was already there and the Darkling is about to find that out the hard way.

Warnings: angst, violence, swearing, bit of fluff

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five  

=================================

Five days have passed and the Darkling had never stopped looking for his wife. His men never saw him rest, sleep was simply never on his agenda. He barely ate at all, merely giving time for the rest of them to gather their strength.

He was restless, constantly questioning how this could have happened. No matter how he looked at it, the Darkling felt guilt consuming him. Without his rage, he worried the guilt would have paralyzed him. Had he not went on a pointless hunt for something that’s likely a tale, she would have been right by his side, antagonizing him.

It’s been hundreds of years since he felt this way, as if his heartstrings are being pulled by someone other than himself. In this search for Y/N, he realized she is consuming. After all, she might have been right – a part of him may actually care for her. He cursed that part of himself over and over again as result.

They’ve tracked her toward Fjerdan borders. Every now and then, they would find bodies on the road, their throat cut or stabbed right through the heart. Sometimes, he found them alive still. He never refrained from calling on his shadows, trying to draw useful information to close in on their whereabouts.

Y/N never saw him use his shadows before. He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d disapprove of the means he’s using to find her. After all, she called him a demon on their wedding night. She would never accept him as he is, he had no doubt about that.

Did she want to be found by him?

The first body they found, the Darkling smiled. He didn’t question it was her hands who have taken the man’s life. There was no concrete proof, but he was certain of it. Every body found felt like her own version of breadcrumbs.

Closing his eyes, he exhaled heavily. If she managed to set herself free so many times to leave what was now five dead men behind, he couldn’t help but worry for her safety. What was the price of each crumb she left?

It wasn’t just the exposure to snow he worried about – and he did worry as she got cold too quickly and he was the one to warm her up before. Who’d warm her up now?

The darkness of the forest gave him cause to worry too – she may have tried to hide it, but he knew she was afraid of the dark. He realized it when her breathing turned shallow and fast their first night together just as she extinguished the candlelight. The next night, he left his candle to burn long into the night.

Something stirred inside him, a beast has awakened. Despite the war his heart and mind waged, he wondered if he’s his own worst enemy. Maybe it was time to let someone in. For too long, he had been alone in the shadows of his past lives.

Why is he repeating the same mistakes?

How can he be afraid when he married a woman who never blinks in the face of danger?

His heart was ice and stone until she came and now the ice has started to melt. All he’s done is hurt and destroy, but he wanted out of the loneliness that clings to him.

She was right, as hard as it is to admit it. He’s a demon, a devil that walks the earth and he cares. Because of her he hopes he might love again and he can’t let anyone take that from him – hope is the only thing stronger than fear. And when a devil falls in love and discovers hope, it’s the most hauntingly beautiful sight. They should fear him as he will go to the depths of hell to protect her.

While his eyes may have been closed, his heart jumped as a bright flash forced him to open them again.

He was never given a chance to be soft. His hands had to be bloody, to have people fear him. Only when they feared him, they wouldn’t hurt him. Now was the time to show them just why they fear him.

“Where?” He growled out, looking to Ivan and Fedyor who were looking at the sky.

“East”, Fedyor replied hastily, ready to follow Kirigan who set off in said direction without a second thought. He didn’t order anyone to follow, but they did.

Ivan and Fedyor walked two steps behind their general, alert as the flash had awakened them from a deep slumber. They weren’t the only ones shaken, unsure what they’re walking into but none showed fear as their general lead them straight to the source. Their loyalty, their belief in general Kirigan runs deep.

Except for David. He was afraid. He didn’t want to be in that forest and he didn’t want to be in danger, but he trusted Kirigan. Besides, Y/N was nice and Genya seemed to like her. So he came along too.

Kirigan walked in strides, the snow didn’t slow him down. His hands formed fists, his face twisted in anger, but his heart pounded in his chest as he had no inkling what he might find. All he knew was that he had to get there, fast.

As if made of darkness itself, the Darkling emerged on what looked like a battlefield. The trees surrounded a small clearing covered in snow that melted under the spilled blood – still warm as it poured from the dead surrounding her.

She’s on her knees, two Fjerdans chaining her up as if she’s a wild animal.

“You think you’re scary, huh?” She spat at the Fjerdan’s feet – a crimson liquid, Darkling realized. She’s bleeding.  

“That’s adorable”, she chuckled maniacally as she held her fierce gaze on the Fjerdan stood before her. They pulled her left hand behind her back and her right hand in front as they tightened the chains that were secured over rope that laid just beneath.

Darkling’s blood boiled. It is fear that brings rage, that hot burning anger that seeks to harm. Once again, he was afraid, not of her but for her.

Four more Fjerdans came from behind the trees, all covered in blood. “Fucking bitch”, one of them kicked her in the ribs and he couldn’t take anymore. He could kill them easily for what they’ve done – he’s killed every one of them he ran into in the past five days without even blinking, regardless if they were involved in her disappearance or not.

“Mister, I’ve seen scary and you don’t have his handsome smile.”

Licking his lips, the Darkling nearly smiles at her remark. There’s no possible way she means anyone else but him. Looking at his Grisha, he found them nearly all in position. They would attack in a minute, swiftly and deadly.

Yet in a moment of carelessness, he missed the Fjerdans realization they’re being watched. Too quickly, more of them appeared. The pitiful human managed to land a few consecutive blows to Darkling’s face before drawing a dagger.

Angry, dark eyes showed the Fjerdan that the Darkling’s brain is in a different mode, that he has switched gears from empathy he had for his wife to cold emotional indifference. Never once has he directed this mode in Y/N’s direction, yet it emerged when he sensed a threat to her life, letting out a part of him that was full on protective.

Grunting, the Darkling’s eyes narrowed at the human who dared to sink the blade into his heart. Despite his immortality, he could still hurt. The pain of a stab wound felt just as it would if here as fragile as the human before him.

But he’s not human at all.

Connecting his hands, the Darkling lifts his head as he summons the darkness that spills from every corner of the forest. “Foolish”, he sneers, “Attacking me in the dark?” The Darkling smirked, walking past the petrified Fjerdan, allowing his shadows to administer a thousand cuts for his transgression.

As he walked toward the middle of the circle, his shadows followed, aiding his Grisha in taking the rest of the Fjerdans so quickly that Y/N gasped.

Looking around in shock, she found Kirigan kneeling beside her.

“You have a knife”, she coughed into her shoulder, “A knife in your chest.”

“I promised”, he gasped for breath as he pulled the knife from his chest. “That I would protect you and I intend to keep the damn promise.”

On the brink of tears, her lips quivered before she laughed. “I thought you’d let them kill me.” Better to laugh than cry, she thought.

Frowning, he shook his head. “That would be too easy”, he waved David over who stood at the tree line, wide eyed. “If anyone’s going to kill you, it should be me.”

Even with tears blurring her vision, she giggled at his stupid remark. She had tried so hard to free herself.

It wasn’t the first time she had been captured by enemies, she knew what to do. But there were so many of them. Each time she freed herself, they would descend upon her. She managed to run, twice, each time they dragged her back kicking and screaming.

Despite his words, Y/N didn’t believe Kirigan would come for her. She had to be her own hero and she tried. In the end, she used everything at her disposal – everything.

Feeling the chains drop, Y/N glances at David, “Thank you.” The ropes were cut as well, but she didn’t move. Truth be told, she wasn’t sure if she could stand on her own and asking for help would wound her. Rubbing her bruised wrists, she reluctantly looked at Kirigan.

“Here”, Kirigan offered his hands. Truth be told, he wanted to carry her, but he knew her pride wouldn’t allow it.

Hissing, she forced herself up despite Kirigan’s offer. “I am perfectly capable of walking on my own.”

He’d have asked her again because she trembled when the wind blew. Her hair was matted with blood, her face red and not from blushing. He could see the damage they’ve done more clearly now as she bent to take a deep breath as if the simple act of breathing hurt her.

Staring at her, he nodded despite his better judgment. Her breathing was ragged, dragging her feet as she walked. She felt his eyes on her, it unnerved her. All she could do is hope her legs don’t give out, but it felt as if they would betray her any moment now.

“Go and make camp ahead”, he ordered his Grisha to speed up as he realized her stubbornness would kill her. Stepping before her, he wrapped an arm around her waist. There would be no asking her for permission this time, he’ll not allow her to deny his help. Hoisting her up in his arm, he held his breath as she cried out in pain.

“I’m sorry”, he whispered, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

How could he not bring any healers? How could he have been so stupid?

Groaning, she sent him a stern glare yet found no anger in his. His eyes are like the ocean - they have the potential to destroy, yet when the waves reach the shore, they dissipate, leaving soft designs in the sand as a gentle reminder of its presence.

Leaning into his embrace, Y/N let out a gentle sigh of resignation. She’s been caught in the riptide and for once, she doesn’t want to fight it.

“I really thought I’d die”, she admits reluctantly.

Feeling him stiffen as he held her in his arms, Y/N frowned. Perhaps she shouldn’t have said that, or anything at all. This isn’t what they do, they don’t bare their hearts open.

“And when I faced death”, she continued regardless. Tilting her head to look up at him, she let out a shuddered exhale. A shy smile adorned her lips as their eyes shared a gaze so tender, an outsider would believe them to be in love.

“I thought how silly it is that I don’t know your first name.”

Snorting, Kirigan raised his eyebrows, “Really?”

“Yes”, she breathes out.

Looking at her now, the Darkling couldn’t believe this is his wife. The woman who infuriates him so often seemed so small, so fragile in his arms. Her gaze held remains of the horrors she was cast into and yet he never saw her as earnest before.

“I married you and I don’t even know your name.”

Licking his lips, he stops. Truth be told, no one actually knows his name. His name was long forgotten, a piece of his soul he had left behind in the fold. He promised himself he’d never utter it while he lives. He had promised he would never be that man again.

Unfortunately for him, he seems to be breaking his promises lately.

He promised her he’d protect her and he failed, just as he promised himself he’d never care for her and yet he does.

“Aleksander”, he mutters, still unsure if it’s the right decision. He placed one of his greatest secrets in the hands of a woman who’d see his world burn. He gave her power she never should possess and yet he’s not afraid. No one could make him fear anything after the ordeal he was put through since she decided to tear down his defenses.  

Smiling softly, she closed her eyes. Resting her head on his shoulder she felt satisfied. It may be small, but finding out his name felt like a victory. She was born to play this game, it was her destiny. He is her destiny.

Waking up, she found herself wrapped in several blankets inside a tent. Grunting, she struggled to sit up on her own. It seemed to be dark still, but she had a blue light lantern lit inside. She may not know who left it there, but Y/N was thankful. Despite her fear of dark, she found it odd she did not fear Aleksander’s darkness at all.

When his shadows nearly encased her in the clearing, she didn’t fret or worry. She smiled.

As contradictory as it may seem, she wished he was with her now. Her entire body ached and still, she was more bothered by the empty spot beside her. Shaking her head, she bites her lower lip. Would it be so bad if she showed a sliver of vulnerability for a single night? Would making a small concession such as this truly take away her power?

Before she has a chance to change her mind, she’s already outside of her tent. The cold chilled her to the bone, biting every inch of exposed skin. Teeth chattering, she looked to the tent next to hers as it was the only one so close – seemingly intentional.

Trying to open it in the cold seemed impossible as her fingers shook violently. Feeling faint, she wondered why she couldn’t just stay in her own tent for the night. Surely it would have been a better idea than to admit she’s scared to be alone.

A warm liquid trickled down her lip and she nearly laughed at her own idiocy. The darkness and cold and her own injuries have all been fairly good reasons for her to just sleep and try to recover and she still tried to find her husband who showed so much disdain for her in the past.

Just as she was about to give up, a familiar head of hair peaked through.

Shivering, she wipes the liquid from under her nose with the back of her hand. Looking at it, she realizes it’s blood. There’s a slightly dazed look in her eyes, the blood loss suffered over the past days leaving its mark.

Looking up at Kirigan, her lips tremble and she sways slightly as her legs threaten to give out. “I didn’t know who else to go to”, she mumbles meekly before collapsing into Kirigan’s arms.

No…Aleksander’s arms.

Pulling her inside, he wrapped her in his arms as she shivered. Covering her with blankets didn’t seem to help either, but he had confidence it would soon enough.

She closed her eyes, clinging to him and selfishly, he smiled. It brought back memories of the night she climbed atop of him to warm up, he assumed. She didn’t know he was awake then, but she did now. She trusted him enough to seek warmth and as her shivers stopped slowly. That’s when the Darkling realized he would never deny her anything she asked of him.

“Fuck”, he whispers under his breath and her eyes open.

He looked at her in a haunted way, a shadow of a bruise marred his jaw and she reached up to touch it, her chest aching when he nuzzled into her palm. They have never been quite as tender with one another, never so intimate. It felt surprisingly nice.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” She asked, feeling so emotionally raw. Physical pain and lingering fear of impending death must have weakened her for a short while. Surely, she can allow herself a few moments of humanity?

He caught her wrist and pulled her hand down to press flat over his heart. “Here.”

Drawing a shuddered breath, her eyebrows knitted in worry. That’s where the knife was, she remembered with guilt. He could have died for her. Hating him requires too much energy; one she had little to spare. For the night, he can just be her husband and she will just be his wife. What harm can it do?

“Why did you come for me? Didn’t you say you wouldn’t fight for me?” Her confidence wavered as he sighed, brushing his fingers along her cheek. Not only did he come for her, but he murdered men for her.

Blinking slow, half in a daze as a low-grade fever began to grip her too, she had no more strength to deny how beautiful he is or how disarming his charm is. He may never love her, but she could…she could love him. If she ever fell for him, she knew she’d never be able to unlove him. She wouldn’t want to and that…that felt oddly comforting. For once, she was too tired to listen to her mind that preferred to set the world on fire rather than care for him.

As her eyes closed and her face relaxed, he stayed awake. He didn’t understand it, but he embraced the warm feeling spreading in his chest as she fell asleep.

“I’d burn this world for you.”

=============================

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PART 7

[black-mistress-of-evil]

Hey! Can I request a Bucky x Reader where Bucky gets hurt during a mission and the reader is there to take care of him? Maybe he’s caught of guard by this because he hasn’t had someone take care of him in a long time? Feel free to do whatever you want with this!! Thank you so much and I can’t wait to read it 💕

Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N Thanks so much for the request @thighs-of-betrayal-blog this was so fun to write! Sorry it took so long! I swear every time I get the motivation to write my life gets crazy. But here it is, hopefully it’s a little bit what you hoped for and if it isn’t I hope you enjoy it anyways haha 💜

Warnings: FLUFFY FLUFF; angst if you squint; very very brief canon level violence; a minute of mutually pining idiots

Word count: approx 2.3k

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (he uses the endearment “doll” but other than that reader is gender neutral)

Why Do You Care?

“Bucky stop being so stubborn and let me see!”

You were standing in the living room of the safe house Bucky had dragged you into, hands on your hips glaring down at the super soldier on the couch. He was avoiding your gaze, staring a hole in the wall to your left, and had his arms folded across his chest. He looked to you more like a pouting child than a 100+ year old ex-assassin/current Avenger and if you weren’t so frustrated with him you’d probably giggle at the sight.

The mission had been a success. Sort of. You and Bucky had been sent in to steal sensitive files from an abandoned Hydra base. Which you managed to do. But it ended up being less than abandoned and without any backup the fight out was a rough one. Just as the two of you were finally getting out, covered in blood and bruises, Bucky had grabbed your arm and shoved you into a crouch, bending himself over you protectively as a shot rang out. He grunted out in pain and you leaned around his frame to send a bullet straight into the skull of the Hydra agent who’d been stupid enough not to stay down. You’d tried, then, to make sure Bucky was okay but he wasted no time in hauling you back up and out into the night. His hand slipped down your arm to clasp yours and he didn’t let go until you were safely within the walls of the safe house. The more the two of you had run the more obvious it became that he was hurt but he ignored you asking about it.

Now that he’d made sure the safe house was secure and reported back to Steve what had happened and where you were, he couldn’t avoid you anymore. But he could ignore you and he was trying his damnedest to do so.

“M’fine.” He grumbled at you for probably the third time in as many minutes, shifting to turn his injured side away from you as if that would make you go away.

“Bucky I know you’re not fine so why won’t you just let me see so I can help?” The cuteness of his pout was wearing off as your patience was wearing thin. “Do you not trust me or something??”

Bucky’s eyes snapped up to yours then, his heart rate rising as he saw the concern there. He did trust you. More than he trusted himself most days. Hell he was in love with you. But you were way too good for him, too full of light, and you’d never be interested in someone like him. He’d only ruin you anyways. But when he looked into your eyes he couldn’t stand the flash of hurt he saw when you asked that question.

“Course I do doll...I trust ya...” his voice was hoarse and he tried taking a deep breath to clear his throat but it sent pain shooting through him and he groaned, pressing his hand to the still bleeding wound in his side.

“Buck....” your tone was softer now as you took a step closer. You thought for a second that he was going to let you check on his injury but the moment your hands reached for him he shot up, ignoring the pain, and pushed past you into the bathroom while mumbling about not needing help.

You roll your eyes and sigh as the bathroom door slams shut behind him. Ever since you’d met the quiet soldier when he joined the Avengers he’d swung back and forth between pushing you away and pulling you in closer. He always volunteered to be partnered with you and you worked well together but he’d refuse to spar with you. He liked helping you cook for team dinners but always declined your invitations to go out for lunch. During movie nights he only ever sat beside you or, if someone beat him there, he’d sit on the floor and lean against your legs even if there was an empty seat by someone else, but he wouldn’t join you when you were binge watching your favourite show alone. You couldn’t figure him out but the more you tried to the more you fell for him. It had been agony for you to want him knowing he could never see you as more than a teammate and friend. Regardless of how many times his behaviour had made it clear he wasn’t interested in you that way, you couldn’t help it. You loved him. And if that remained unrequited the rest of your life then so be it, you were that gone for him.

And so, despite his insistence that he didn’t need your help, you found yourself trailing after him towards the bathroom. You pressed your ear to the door and could hear him shuffling around, pulling out a first aid kit, and then gasping in obvious pain.

“Bucky? Open the door and let me in? Please? I want to help...I want to take care of you, you just have to let me....” you pause, waiting for a response, and notice that all the sounds on the other side of the door have ceased.

“Buck? Please, I care about you...let me...” your voice is lower, almost a whisper now, and you wait another few painfully silent seconds before hearing a long sigh from the other side of the door. When it cracks open, your eyes meet his piercingly blue ones and you nearly crumble at the uncertainty you see there.

“Can I come in, Buck?” You ask gently and he hesitates for only a second before nodding and opening the door wider. You step inside and motion for him to sit on the edge of the counter for you and he quickly obeys.

“You’re gonna have to take your shirt off for me to see, Buck.” You say gently, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. He grunts in acknowledgement and begins pulling his black tee up, hissing as he raises his arms causing a tug to his injury. Without a second thought, you reach forward and help maneuver his shirt the rest of the way off, dropping it to the side as he brings his arms back down. As other times in the past when you’ve seen him shirtless, you can’t help but let your eyes travel across his firm chest and toned abdomen, drinking him in until you raise your eyes to his and realize he’s watching you. You quickly avert your gaze, your ears burning at having been caught ogling him, so you miss the way his lips curl into a smirk. Focusing your attention onto his side you gasp at the large gash there still slowly leaking blood.

“Not that bad, doll.”

“James Buchanan Barnes! Just because its not life-threatening does not mean that it’s ‘not that bad’. Dammit Buck why wouldn’t you let me help you take care of this as soon as we got here?!” You huff as you grab some antibacterial cloths and begin cleaning the wound, ignoring his hiss as you do so.

“M’sorry, doll...it’s just...haven’t really had anyone take care of me in...well since before the war to be honest. Got used to taking care of myself...used to not having anyone care.” Bucky’s voice is barely a whisper and you have to strain to listen to him. He’s never been so vulnerable with you and you want to make the most of however long he’s going to let this moment last. When its clear he’s waiting for you to say something you reach one hand up to softly cup his cheek and turn him to face you.

“I care. I care so much, Buck. You just have to let me.” You try to put all your emotions into your gaze, desperate for him to see that he doesn’t have to be alone and that he is loved and cared about. He sighs and leans into your hand more, raising his own to rest on your hip.

“Why?”

He spoke so quietly you’re not sure you heard him and raise an eyebrow to ask him to repeat himself, too afraid of breaking the spell that seems to have fallen over the two of you to speak.

“Why do you care so much, doll? Why me? I’m not...I’m not worth it.”

This is it. The chance to tell him how you feel. If he rejects you that’s fine, you decide. Even if he doesn’t return your feelings at least he will know that he is loved and that’s enough for you right now. Your heart feels like it may burst as you weigh your response carefully.

“You, Bucky, are so worthy of all the care in the world. You went through hell and back a million times over and came out the other side a kind, thoughtful, sweet, considerate, gentle, loving man. The world tried to break all of that out of you but you are too strong and too GOOD. The world owes you and if I could wrap up all the love that exists in it and give it to you I would. But I’ve only got mine so that’s what I’ll give you.”

Dropping your hand from his face to his shoulder, you hold your breath as Bucky’s eyes stare into yours as though searching for something. He tightens his grip on your waist, before finally breaking the heavy silence, his voice at least an octave lower.

“You’ll....give me...your love...?” Bucky is the strongest man you know and yet you have never heard him sound so timid and unsure in all the time you’ve known him. He looks so hopeful and scared and you can’t help the confession bursting from your lips.

“Yes Bucky! I will. I already have. It’s yours. I-I love you.” You take a deep breath before continuing, rambling now. “And I don’t expect to you to return my feelings and I hope I haven’t ruined our friendship because that would just kill me nothing has to change between us I just needed you to know that—mmph—“

You’re cut off by Bucky’s lips connecting with yours, his hands cupping your face, thumbs rubbing gently across your cheekbones. The kiss is gentle, careful, almost tentative at first. But then your arms snake around his neck and one of his hands makes its way into your hair and it becomes passionate and desperate. Bucky pulls you between his thighs so you are flush against him and the feeling of his taut muscles against you makes you moan. Your hands lift to tangle in his hair and tug gently as he runs his tongue along your bottom lip, practically begging for entrance which you immediately grant. He growls into the kiss as he explores every inch of your mouth with his tongue, his hands roaming all across your body, pulling you impossibly closer as you arch into him needing to feel him. He stands suddenly, pushing you back a couple of steps until you are pinned between his body and the wall. You gasp for air and he moves his lips along your jaw, down your neck, and then back up to press another searing kiss against your lips before resting his forehead against yours as he tries to catch his own breath. Your chests rise and fall together and he rubs his nose against yours before placing another tender, gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“Sorry....couldn’t help myself...” Bucky manages to tell you between gasps for air.

“Never apologize for THAT...” you giggle and the vibrations of his chuckle against your chest make you feel lightheaded as he leans back to look you in the eye, cupping your cheek tenderly.

“I love you.” He sounds sure. Confident. Like nothing in the world could be more true than that statement. You can’t help the ridiculously giddy grin that splits your face as you tug his face back to yours for another kiss, which he smiles into.

Once you come down from your highs a little bit you manage to coax him back to his spot on the counter and you continue cleaning his injury and stitching him up though it takes much longer now as Bucky keeps distracting you. He plants kisses to your nose, your shoulder, your neck, your cheek, your forearm, basically any part of you that comes close enough to his lips. When you finally finish, you let your hands run along his muscles as you rub your nose against his and kiss him deeply, gently biting his bottom lip eliciting a sound from him that turns your insides completely upside down.

Before you can say or do anything else, the front door opens with a crash and Bucky grabs you and shoves you behind him protectively as he peeks out into the front room to assess the threat.

“Dammit punk! What’re you breaking down the door for?! I thought you were a hostile! Why didn’t you just call and say you were here??!” You sigh in relief at Bucky’s nickname for Steve and move to peer over his shoulder at the Captain as the two super soldiers glare at each other.

“I’ve been calling for several minutes! You didn’t answer! I thought you were in danger, jerk!”

“Sorry, Steve! We were...distracted. Bucky needed stitches.” You quickly apologize and give an excuse in case Bucky isn’t comfortable saying anything yet since you hadn’t exactly taken the time to talk yet. But he just turns to face you and smirks as he tugs you to him for one more kiss before reaching around you to grab his shirt and pull it on.

“Ya. We were pretty damn distracted. Didn’t really appreciate the interruption, punk!” Bucky chuckles and can’t help the grin that has been plastered on his face since you told him you love him. Your cheeks flush as he puts an arm around your shoulder, guiding you to Steve who is looking between you and Bucky with a happy, almost proud, look on his face.

“It’s about damn time, you two! Now, who made the first move? I need to know if I owe Sam $50 or not.”

[helloprettybb]

slip of the tongue

i love bucky with all my heart. that’s it.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

description: bucky doesn’t really like you. but a night alone and a stab wound may change his opinion.

warnings: violence, bad description of action scene, heated kissing??? not smut but implied

word count: 1.9k

Bucky hates you. It isn’t difficult seeing as you’re Stark’s daughter and every quality in the man is tenfold in you. You’re crazy smart and you aren’t afraid to show it. Perhaps your worst attribute is your arrogance since it’s justified most of the time. Bucky hates how you’re always right and the stupid smirk on your face when you outwit or outtalk someone.

He knows you can tell and that’s the worst part. It seems you do everything in your power to irk him even more. Like trying to talk to him every time he enters the room or asking for every excruciating detail for any minor event. You get on his nerves and nothing could change that.

The team left for a mission this morning so it’s just you and Bucky at the Compound. After doing nothing all day, Bucky decides to go for an afternoon run. He doesn’t listen to music, as he enjoys the sounds of the city between the mindless chatter and the speeding cars, it reminds him of his youth.

Towards the end of his run, Bucky starts toward the Compound when his ears pick up a yell. Going towards the noise, he spots three men assaulting a woman. She tries her best to hold them off, but she is greatly outnumbered and outmatched by the three, burly men.

Bucky springs into action and grabs the man whose hands are around the woman’s throat. Yanking him off easily, Bucky shoves the man to the ground with a force that was probably harder than necessary, but he doesn’t feel an ounce of remorse as he moves his attention to the two other attackers. He grabs the second man, who is slightly shorter than the first and punches him square in the jaw. He releases the woman and stumbles back. The third man lands a few punches on him, but they barely phase Bucky. While fighting off the last man, Bucky doesn’t notice the first guy get up. He also fails to notice the shiny knife in his hand before it’s too late. The man stabs Bucky in the side. Now Bucky’s pissed as he pushes the third man into the wall. He turns toward the man with the knife and knocks him out cold.

He looks around and realizes the woman must have run away. “Good.” he thinks, but only for a minute as he remembers that he got fucking stabbed. He groans as he applies pressure to the wound.

Bucky makes it back to the Compound, but the pain is getting worse. Stumbling inside, he heads for the labs to look for a medkit. But of course, since it’s his lucky day, you’re there, too. You’re probably finishing the project that you were talking about for the past few weeks - something about particles accelerating, but Bucky didn’t care enough to ask. He hopes he can slip by unnoticed, but the gaping hole in his side draws attention to him.

Your head snaps up from your work and you see Bucky hobble by. “Heya Buck,” you start in your usual playful manner. But when you look at the state he’s in, your attitude changes immediately, “What the fuck happened?”

“It’s nothing.” he grumbles. You look down and see that he’s holding his side. His sweatshirt and fingers are covered in blood.

“Bullshit.” you say. Moving around the lab, you quickly find the medkit. “Sit down.”

“I don’t need your-”

“Shut up and sit down.” you interrupt. Bucky’s protests stop as he sits down on one of the stools. You pull up a chair and open the kit.

“Y’know this will probably heal by tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but it can’t heal if you bleed to death.” you retort. While the injury most likely won’t kill him, your point still stands. “Can I?” you motion to his hand. He removes his hand and you quickly pull his sweatshirt up to treat the wound. Luckily it’s a shallow stab wound and the gauze you put on is enough to stop him from bleeding out. As you continue to apply the gauze, you have to force yourself to not get distracted by his defined abs and focus all your attention on the wound. Your fingers trace over his stomach and he jumps slightly.

“Sorry,” you mutter. Your hands must be freezing from being down in the lab for so long. Once you finish applying the gauze, you say, “There, all done.” You look up at Bucky and are unable to read his expression. It causes you both to fall into an awkward silence. “So,” you say to clear the air, “How’d this happen?”

“Some guys were attacking this woman. Didn’t know one of them had a knife.” He responds gruffly. You nod in understanding.

You finish patching him up and say, “If you need anything like extra bandages or a beer, just come to me.” Bucky simply nods, unsure what to make of that proposition. He begins to leave awkwardly and almost makes it out of the lab before something in him makes him turn back.

He pops his head in and says, “You said something about beer?”

-

Bucky doesn’t know what time it is and he doesn’t care. He’s on his fourth beer, but he can’t get drunk so it doesn’t really matter. It’s funny because one beer turned into two and then three and now he’s found himself in a full-on conversation with you. And the most surprising part is that it’s delightful.

Behind your arrogance and quick judgments, you’re really funny. He knew you were smart, that wasn’t a surprise, but talking to you more changed his opinion of you.

“So, Buck.” Usually, that nickname didn’t get to him but a healing stab wound and a couple of beers will change anyone’s perception.

“What?” he asks.

“Got any lucky girl?” He scoffs at that and you look shocked. “What? It was simply a question.”

“It wasn’t the question, doll.” Since when did he call you doll? Just a slip of the tongue, he supposes. “It was the fact that I’d even have someone.” he says honestly.

“What do you mean? You’re a good-looking guy, just over one hundred. Any girl would be lucky to have you.” Bucky rolls his eyes and laughs. Damn, you’re growing on him.

“I’m serious!” you exclaim. Your left arm is on the couch and your hand is leaning against your hand. He realizes this is the closest you’ve been besides before when you were tending to his stab wound. “You’re a catch, Buck. What stops all the ladies from falling all over you?”

He rolls his eyes at you again whether at your persistence or wording. “I’m a bad guy, doll.” There it is again.

“That’s not true,” you scoff. Taking a sip from your beer, you casually add, “Besides, I’ve always had a thing for the bad ones,” Bucky raises an eyebrow at that. “Come on, Buck. I’ve liked you for a pretty long time. I thought I made it quite obvious.”

“By annoying the hell outta me?” He jokes.

“Hey, I was just trying to talk to you. Although I know I can come across as….”

“Annoying.” he says back. You give him a look that makes him laugh and soon a smile spreads across your face.

“I actually do care about you. But, I know you don’t feel the same way, so I’m happy just being friends.” Bucky thinks it over for a moment. Just this morning he was thinking about how you bothered the hell out of him. Actually, the more that he thinks about it, he realizes that he never really hated you. Did Bucky like you all along? He’s about to reply when the elevator doors open.

“Oh, you’re back?” you turn to greet the team.

“Hey, what are you doing up so late with Bucky?” Your dad eyes the two of you suspiciously.

You catch onto what he’s implying and assure him, “We’re just hanging out. In fact, I was just heading to my room. See you tomorrow.” You say a quick goodbye and leave before anyone could say anything.

They all turn to Bucky, ready to attack him with questions. “I’m going to head up, too.” Bucky quickly exits. He catches up to you, although he definitely didn’t mean to. Curse his long legs.

“Oh, hey,” you say as he enters the sleeping quarters.

“Hey,” he says. Fuck it, mind as well try it. “So, about the friend thing.”

You wince, “You don’t want to be friends.” You seem a little hurt by it, “I get it, you don’t really like me. It’s not like I can force you, too. And especially after I basically confessed to liking you as more than a friend, I could see how a potential friendship wouldn’t sound too appealing.” You’ve never looked this uneasy. He’s used to seeing you so confident and assured, but this was new.

Bucky lets you finish rambling before he replies, “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Oh.” He laughs a little, finally shutting you up. He moves closer, but you stay still. You both can tell what’s about to happen, yet neither is making a motion to stop it.

“I like you. As more than a friend.” You look like you’re trying to play it cool and contain your excitement, but Bucky sees you bite your lip like you’re trying to stop your smile from spreading.

“So…” You start like you’re thinking long and hard about what you’re about to say, “Can I kiss you?” You’re adorable. Bucky takes one last step and pulls you into a kiss.

Your lips are soft against his. Beyond the taste of beer, Bucky picks up some… he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip… cherry lipgloss. He’ll never get sick of the taste of cherries. He thought it’d be a sweet, innocent kiss but when you grab at his back, trying to hold him as close as possible, he knows it’s anything but. You kiss him hungrily as if your life depends on it and Bucky eagerly accepts. He muffles your moans and gasps and thinks about how nice those sounds will be echoed in his bedroom.

Bucky moves you so that your back is against the wall. You moan as his hands trail down your sides and onto your ass. His hands go under your thighs and you jump so that you can wrap your legs around his waist. Bucky catches you and pins you between himself and the wall.

Your hands go up to his hair and play with a few strands before pulling lightly. He groans at that, separating from your lips and throwing his head back. With his neck exposed, you trail kisses up and down his throat. Sucking and biting occasionally and making Bucky go crazy.

Two can play at that game, he thinks. He reconnects your lips to kiss you again and starts grinding his hips into you. Your hands go to his back and start scratching against his shirt.

Before this could go any further, Bucky pulls away and asks, “My room?”

And you smile, “Fuck yeah.”

[queenofmoons67]

“hang on, i’ve got you” for warriors and wild? 👀 (hurt wild please) thank you!

Warriors stumbled across the field, over grass and flowers, the weight in his arms slowing him down and throwing him off balance.

“Warriors,” a voice moaned.

He chanced a glance down, then grimaced and looked away, wishing he hadn’t.

“Warriors, I’ll—I’ll be fine…”

Wild had always been skinny, more sinew than muscle, but the way Warriors held him just emphasized it. Wild’s legs hung over Warriors’s arm, and his head lulled against Warriors’s chest, bouncing with every step.

It was Wild’s arms that made Warriors’s heart ache the most, though. One arm was cradled in Wild’s lap, loose now instead of pressing against the gaping, bleeding hole like it had been at the start of their journey. The other dangled towards the ground, dripping a trail of blood.

“Hey, hey,” Warriors said, jostling Wild. “What happened to holding pressure, huh? You getting lazy, Wild? I never—I never thought I’d see the day.”

Wild grinned up at him, teeth bloody. Warriors wasn’t sure if it was from the bokoblin Wild had torn the throat out of with his bare teeth, or the bokoblin who had skewered Wild on a pike. If it was the former, it was a story to tell. If it was the latter—well, if it was the latter, it meant internal bleeding, but that was already a given, wasn’t it?

“Hyrule’s gonna fix you up real nice,” Warriors said. “But he might just kill you after. Huh, Wild?”

When we find the others went unsaid, but Warriors figured Wild heard it anyway. They had been separated when they went through a portal, but they had been lucky enough to land in Time’s world. There was only one place the others would go—even if Warriors and Wild had been unlucky enough to also land right in the middle of a group of bokoblins.

Realizing he hadn’t heard a response, Warriors jostled Wild again. “Hey, Wild, keep talking to me, ok? Twilight’s gonna want to hear your pretty voice.”

No answer.

“Wild?” Warriors glanced down, and the sight sent him stumbling over his own feet and to the ground.

Wild’s eyes were closed. His body, which had already seemed so limp before, appeared to sleep like the dead. Warriors prayed he wasn’t. Oh, by Hylia, Warriors prayed he was just unconscious.

“Wild?” Warriors rasped, and shook the boy even as he held him closer to his chest. “Wild?”

No answer—but then, even as Warriors watched, Wild’s chest moved up and down.

“Alright,” Warriors muttered. “Alright, alright.” He heaved himself to his feet. “You just hang on, ok? I’ve got you.” I’ve got you.

And Warriors soldiered on.

#

By the time Warriors reached the steps of the ranch, his pants had grown stiff with Wild’s drying blood. He hadn’t dared stop and test his heart rate, relying solely on the movement of Wild’s chest and the warmth of his breath on Warriors’s own throat. Wild was still alive—but Warriors didn’t know how long that would last.

“Time!” Warriors called. His voice stuck in his throat, and he coughed, then called again, “Time!”

The front door slammed open, and Warriors faltered, relief stealing the last bit of exhausted strength from his limbs. Time, Twilight—Legend, Sky—Four, Wind, and Hyrule, they were all there. Wild was saved.

Warriors grinned, and the last bit of his strength slipped away, sending him crashing down into Legend. The veteran’s arms wrapped around him, holding him close, and Warriors leant into him even as his own arms tightened around Wild’s unconscious body. He wouldn’t drop the boy—not so close to the end.

“Hyrule!” Legend called, and turned around. Warriors stumbled with him in a bit of an awkward dance, dragged along by the other man’s strength. Any other time, he would be threatening Legend with death, but right now Warriors only felt thanks. He could trust any and all decisions—the bodies of both himself and Wild—to the arms of the others. Warriors could sleep now.

The instant he felt the weight of Wild’s body lift, Warriors closed his eyes.

#

Warriors woke slowly, the smell of Malon’s cooking in his nose, and then all at once, when the weightlessness of his arms hit him. Jolting upright, he looked around the room wildly until his eyes landed on the bright blue of Wild’s tunic, hanging on a chair. And underneath it—

Warriors bolted from his own bed, throwing aside the sheets and grasping for Wild’s hand. Hyrule, sleeping on Wild’s other side, shot up with a shout.

“What have I said—! Warriors!” he squawked. “Don’t you dare tear that wound open again!”

Warriors stared down at Wild. The boy was unconscious, his usual messy yellow-blonde hair sorted into braids. The wound Hyrule mentioned was hidden under several layers of bandaging, but there was no blood bleeding through anymore.

“He’s ok?” Warriors asked, switching his gaze to Hyrule.

The traveler nodded slowly. “You got him here on time, Warriors.”

That wasn’t what Warriors had asked, but he ignored it in favor of the steady rhythm beneath his hand: Wild’s pulse.

Satisfied, Warriors slumped back onto his own bed just in time to see the rest of the Links come stumbling into the room, all in various states of disarray. Sky looked like he’d just woken from a nap, and Wind more hyper than the time he ate an entire block of chocolate. Time was at the back, Malon at his side, and his armor shined in the way that said he’d been using the task as a distraction again.

“You’re awake,” Twilight said, and Warriors nodded. “You got Wild here safely,” and Warriors scoffed. What part of the kid bleeding out when he arrived did the others not get?

“He’s alive,” Warriors said. What more could he ask for?

#

It took another two days for Wild to wake. In that time, Hyrule kept Warriors confined to the bed next to him—he’d apparently ‘overworked his body,’ whatever that meant, and the traveler didn’t trust him to stay still if he wasn’t in eye sight. Over the days, the other Links kept up a constant rotation in the room. The entertainment depended on the Link.

Wind could be counted on for stories of the ‘high seas,’ but Legend, for once, was near silent. Twilight did nothing but talk about Wild, which just reminded Warriors of his near failure, and Time waxed poetic about Malon’s eyes, which Warriors considered pointless with the real thing peeking in from time to time. Four let Warriors guide the conversation, which was nice, and Sky wanted to cuddle, which, for once in his life, Warriors just wasn’t interested in.

But it was just Hyrule and Warriors when it happened. Warriors was sharpening his sword, trying to ignore Hyrule checking on Wild’s injuries, when he heard a raspy, “Hyrule? Where—where’s Warriors? Is he alright?”

Warriors barked a single, disbelieving laugh, put down his sword, and leaned forward to poke Wild’s arm. “Am I alright? You’re the one who nearly bled out all over my good scarf.”

Hyrule turned and pushed Warriors back into his own bed, but Warriors’s attention was all on Wild’s stupid smile as he looked back at Warriors.

Wild wasn’t just alive, he was awake. Warriors didn’t think he’d ever be more thankful.

[kurokoros]

liar liar | bakugou katsuki

Rated: M

Words: 9.4K

Pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

Summary: Of all the things he’s experienced working as a Pro Hero, Bakugou never expected his dick getting too big to ever be a problem, let alone one in his top ten.

Bakugou is hit with a strange quirk. You reap the benefits.

AN: This fic is 50% crack and 50% raunchy smut. I have zero explanations for this. Also big thanks to @lady-bakuhoe for ranting with me once about the fandoms weird level of hatred towards Bakugou, thus inspiring me to write something for him. I’m so sorry it was this.

Warnings: smut, language, oral sex (m receiving), dom/sub undertones, rough sex, degradation, spanking, choking, inappropriate use of quirks

***

Of all the things he’s experienced working as a Pro Hero, Bakugou never expected his dick getting too big to ever be a problem, let alone one in his top ten.

Kirishima glances at him out of the corner of his eye as they step into Bakugou’s office, red eyes narrowing in concern as he sees Bakugou’s gritted teeth and clenched fists. “Are you sure you’re okay, bro?” he asks, a little hesitant.

“I’m fine,” Bakugou practically snarls between his teeth. Fuck. The tingling sensation starts in his gut, heat spreading through his limbs, and he nearly swears aloud as the sensation shifts to his dick, his boxer-briefs getting uncomfortably tighter. Shit, he’s probably up to at least another inch by now. Thank god his pants are baggy.

Unfortunately, Kirishima isn’t so easily convinced. Brows furrowing, he looks Bakugou over slowly, searching for any lasting effects from their earlier scuffle with a few low rank villains. “You’ve been acting kind of… strange,” he settles on after an awkward beat of silence, “since you got hit by that quirk. You know, you probably should have gone to a—”

“I said I’m—” Bakugou cuts himself off as that tingle comes back. “I’ll be fine,” he corrects himself. The tingle goes away, and he almost groans in relief as his dick returns to its normal size. “Drop it, Kirishima.”

Kirishima holds his hands up in front of him, placating his huffy friend. “Okay, okay. I get it.” He backs off, still eyeing Bakugou warily as he pulls his phone from his pocket. He glances at the time. “Look, man, I gotta go. I have a date in twenty, and she’s gonna kill me if I’m late again.” His smile is apologetic, but exhausted.

“Whatever.” Bakugou tosses off one of his gauntlets, letting it clatter against the floor noisily. Breathing slowly through his nose, he peels off his mask as well, setting it down on his desk. It’s fine. Everything is fine. He can handle this. It’s just a really fucking annoying quirk that’ll probably go away on it’s own by the end of the day.

Another tingle stirs in his gut, and then his underwear tightens again.

Fuck. He can’t even lie to himself.

Just as casually as before, Kirishima says, “Yeah, and since I figured you shouldn’t be alone, I called you a babysitter,” as he types out a quick text on his phone. If that wasn’t bad enough, Kirishima calls out your name in a sing-song voice.

Bakugou drops his other gauntlet on his foot and whirls around. “You what?” he hisses, only half because of the pain. The sound of your name definitely doesn’t cause his heart to do something stupid like flutter in his chest. And his pants definitely don’t get snug around his crotch as he blatantly lies to himself. “Kirishima, what the fuck? Why would you call her?”

Taken aback by the outburst, Kirishima puts his phone away and shrugs. “I figured she’d make you feel better.”

“I don’t fucking want her here,” Bakugou tells him. Nothing happens in his pants. Like the bullshit quirk affecting his dick can’t decide if that’s a lie or not. Hell, Bakugou isn’t really sure either. Sure, he likes having you around, even if he’d never admit it. He likes seeing your pretty smile as you come flouncing into his office wearing one of those little skirts that make him want to bend you over his desk and—

He squeezes his eyes shut, banishing the thought before it can go any further and his pants grow any tighter from non-quirk related reasons.

On the other hand, you’re quite possibly the last person he ever wants to see him like this. Too bad the universe seems intent on fucking him over today.

“Nice to see you too, Bakugou.” 

The sound of your voice hits him like a lightning strike, still sweet despite the sarcastic inflection of your tone. Bolts of electricity shoot up his spine. In his chest, his heart pounds viciously against his ribs, and Bakugou’s shoulders tense as every one of his senses suddenly becomes a tune to you. Even from across the room, the scent of your perfume tickles at his nose—something floral or fruity that he doesn’t recognize, but it’s heavy and enticing and he tries not to shiver as it wraps around him.

He doesn’t dare turn to look at you as you take a step further into his office, determinedly staring at the wall and hoping you’ll leave with Kirishima. Yeah, un-fucking-likely.

When his silence persists, you roll your eyes and turn to Kirishima instead, the pinched expression on your face relaxing into a pleasant smile when you meet the eyes of the more friendly half of the duo. “Thanks for calling, Kiri,” you say, smoothing out your skirt.

A wide grin is the response you get. “Of course,” Kirishima says, stretching out and linking his fingers behind his head. “Figured he’d listen to you over anyone else.” He ignores the glare Bakugou sends his way, his lips twitching in amusement at the stark silence coming from the explosive blond.

You scoff. “Hardly, but I’ll try.” Casting a glance at Bakugou, you’re a little glad he seems intent on ignoring you, because it gives you the perfect opportunity to give him a slow once-over—for injuries, of course. He looks fine to you, a few superficial scrapes and bruises, but nothing severe enough for Kirishima to call you.

The tension in his shoulders is the first thing you notice. Bakugou is awkwardly hunched over himself in a way that isn’t like him at all. Usually, the Pro Hero exudes confidence that would border on cockiness if he didn’t have the skills to back it up, but right now he just looks... uncomfortable. What little of his face you can see is pinched, but not in annoyance; it’s more like pain, you realize, but then his expression melts into one of relief and you’re left baffled once again.

Before you can think too hard about it, your gaze wanders lower and you’re promptly distracted by his bare arms.

Kirishima clears his throat when you stare at Bakugou’s biceps a little too long.

“What happened anyway?” you ask, turning back to Kirishima. Your face feels warm, and by the way he grins you can tell he notices your faint blush. “You didn’t say much on the phone.”

He sobers a little as you bring the conversation back to the other Hero. The humor bleeds from his eyes, his shoulders drooping. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t have much time. We ran into a couple of villains on patrol. One of them caught Bakubro off guard and he got hit with their quirk. Wouldn’t let anyone check him out after.” He shrugs halfheartedly, looking at you apologetically. “You know how he gets.”

Don’t you ever. You’ve never met someone as stubborn as Bakugou before in your life. He can be a real pain in the ass when he wants, and you can’t blame Kirishima for his best friend being a dumbass.

You prop your hands on your hips, eyes narrowing in on Bakugou again. “How long has he been sulking?” you ask just loud enough for Bakugou to hear you.

Ruby eyes pin you with a heavy glower that would probably make anyone else piss themselves. Bakugou’s lip pulls back in a snarl, his teeth bared, and you ignore the pleasant tingle that shoots down your spine. “I’m not fucking sulking!” he snaps at you, making your eyes roll.

“Sure you aren’t.” Before he can start arguing with you, you turn back to Kirishima. “What do we know about this quirk?” 

“Nothing. Cops are questioning the guy now, but he’s not talking.” Kirishima gestures to Bakugou with his thumb. “And Ground Zero here keeps saying he’s fine.”

Across the room, Bakugou grumbles to himself under his breath, noticeably displeased with your lack of attention, but like hell he’s going to say anything about it. Jealousy is a bitter taste in the back of his mouth, and for once he can’t even pretend that’s not what it is as his glare shifts to Kirishima. Fuck, he wants you to look at him again. Pay attention to him.

The honesty is surprising to him, but he keeps his mouth shut and definitely doesn’t pout as you and Kirishima continue to chat like he isn’t even there. When it becomes clear that you aren’t going to end the conversation immediately, Bakugou huffs and turns around, glaring as he leans back against his desk, watching the two of you. His gaze skips right over Kirishima and lands on you, and he swallows back a frustrated groan when he finally gets a good look at you.

Fuck, you look good today. Unable to help himself, he’s absolutely shameless as he stares at your legs, your short skirt and high heels making them look even longer than usual. Bakugou grits his teeth as his mind drifts to those legs wrapping around his hips and yanking him closer. For once, he allows the thought to linger, lost in his own head.

“I see,” you murmur as your conversation with Kirishima comes to a close. With your lips pursed in thought, your gaze shifts back to Bakugou, only to find him already staring right back at you, watching you intently. Your pulse jumps under his piercing gaze, and it takes everything in you to break eye contact with him and smile at Kirishima instead. “I’ll take care of it. Have fun on your date, Kiri.”

Kirishima shoots you a megawatt smile and a thumbs up.“Will do! Good luck with this guy!” He pays no attention to Bakugou’s grumbling as he heads out the door, closing it quietly behind him, leaving you and Bakugou alone together in an office far away from other people.

Yeah, this should be fun.

You twist on your heels so that you’re facing Bakugou directly. Trying for a charming smile, you prop your hands on your hips. He glares at you and crosses his arms over his chest, clearly not planning on cooperating. And boy does it give you an excellent view of his muscled forearms, all tanned skin and silver scars from years of hero work. You wet your lips, suddenly thirsty. 

“Okay, Ground Zero,” you start, giddily noticing the way he puffs up at your use of his hero name, “are you going to tell me what’s wrong or do we have to do this the hard way?” Your voice lowers at the end, coming out as a husky whisper.

Bakugou’s throat bobs with a harsh swallow, and he grits his teeth against the pleasant warmth that curls in his chest. “Piss off,” he bites out, a low and dangerous edge to his voice that you easily ignore.

If you hadn’t known him for years, maybe it would be intimidating, but despite his gruff attitude and biting tone, you know he would never lay a hand on you. “Come on, Bakugou,” you try again, taking a step towards him as a small pout forms on your lips. “Please tell me? I just want to help and make you feel better.”

The breathy whine you let out paired with you wanting to make him feel better does absolutely nothing to help the situation going on in his pants.

His gaze slides to the side, avoiding your eyes as he tells you to “Just go home,” because he doesn’t want to see the disappointment there.

But you don’t back down. You can be just as stubborn as him when you want to be, and there’s no way in hell you’re leaving just so he can cling to his manly pride, or whatever it is he’s worried about. Clearly, asking nicely isn’t going to work. Honestly, you’d be more surprised if it did. “Hard way it is.”

Bakugou’s eyes widen, and his head snaps towards you just in time for you to launch yourself at him. It’s a bit difficult, between your skirt and heels, but you catch him off guard, and that helps. He tries to twist away at the last second, leaving you to cling to his back, limbs wrapping around him tightly. A surprised grunt escapes his at your sudden weight on him, but he doesn’t even stumble, letting you curl your body around him in a one-sided hug.

“Get off me, loser,” he growls at you, glaring at you over his shoulder. Despite his irritation, Bakugou makes no move to shake you off. In fact, one of his big hands latches onto your leg when you start to slip, allowing you to shift yourself for a better grip. He lets go of you just as quickly, standing stock still in the middle of the room while glaring at everything that isn’t you.

Your fingers dig into his shoulder where you’re grabbing him. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong!”

This time, he does try to shake you off, and you squeal as your grip starts to slip. “I’m fine!” he snaps at you, only to wince a second later.

Ever the opportunist, you don’t think twice before hooking your leg around him and going for his knees. Bakugou swears as he loses his balance, and somehow you manage to knock him to the floor using a grappling move that he taught you. He ends up rolling in time to land on his back, cushioning your fall aa your knees press against the floor on either side of his hips, straddling him as you pin him with a firm look. Long fingers grasp at your upper thighs, his thumbs grazing the hem of your skirt, and he lets you go just as quickly, as if you’ve burned him

Bakugou looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, but, again, he makes no move to shove you away, though he definitely could.

“Oh, yeah, clearly you’re just fine,” you reply, sarcasm laid on thick. Your hands are pressed against his chest for balance as you regain your bearings, and you can feel the angry breath he takes. Bakugou is warm and solid beneath you, hips pressed snug against yours. It feels way too good, but that’s not what you need to be thinking about at this moment. “Now stop acting like a baby and tell me what’s going on.”

Looking up at you, Bakugou sighs when your fierce look doesn’t relent. He mutters something under his breath that’s too low for you to make out clearly, then grimaces. “It’s nothing,” he tells you again, a harsh edge to his voice.

You pin him with a glare. “You got hit by a strange quirk, Bakugou,” you tell him slowly, contempt dripping from every word. “That’s not nothing.” The crack in your voice on the last word is what makes him drop the sour look on his face. You wince, fingers curling tighter around his shirt, like that might keep you grounded. All the fear you felt when Kirishima called you earlier comes surging back through you, and it feels like a blow to the ribs. You stare at his chest as you continue, the words bubbling up and out before you can stop them. “I know you. You’re too damn prideful to go see a doctor and admit something is wron—and that scares me sometimes, you know? One day you could get really hurt.” Slowly, you force your eyes up, meeting his stare with your own tentative one. “Please, just tell me what’s wrong. For me?”

Bakugou’s expression softens nearly an imperceptible amount. His glare smooths out. “Fuck,” he growls under his breath, trying to ignore the violent tug on his heartstrings that comes with that pleading look in your eyes. He’s always been a sucker for you, and you damn well know it too.

But he’s not going to give in this time.

The tingle that goes straight to his crotch proves him very wrong.

You freeze above him, body locking up as something big and hard presses against your inner thigh. “Katsuki,” you say, forcing yourself not to react aside from the widening of your eyes. “Is that your…”

“Yeah,” he replies, jaw clenched. His tone is nothing short of mocking when he tacks on, “You’re sitting on my cock, sweetheart.”

Well, shit. You blink at him owlishly, mouth opening and closing soundlessly as you try to think of literally anything to say in this situation that isn’t stupid, crass, or a blatant change of subject. It’s surprisingly hard to think with his bulge pressed up against your leg like this, and you blurt the first thing that comes to mind. “Are you turned on right now?” you ask incredulously, jabbing a finger into his chest. “I swear to God, Katsuki, I’m trying to be serious here, and you—”

He cuts you off. “I’m not fucking hard.” A pair of big, rough hands latch onto your thighs to keep you from squirming over his lap. “But if you keep moving around like that, I will be.”

“You liar.” A gasp sticks in your throat as he tightens his grip on your legs. By this point, you’re pretty sure you’re blushing, but honestly, you can’t find it in you to care when you are, in fact, basically sitting on his lap. Besides, Bakugou doesn’t look that much better. “If you were that big while soft, I’m pretty sure I would have noticed by now.”

Well that catches his attention. A smug smile stretches across his face. All teeth. “You spend a lot of time looking at it, angel?” Oh, this time he’s definitely mocking you. The palms of his hands slide up your thighs until his fingertips graze the hem of your skirt where it’s hiked partway up your legs, revealing a few tantalizing inches of your bare skin.

“Oh, no, you aren’t changing the subject,” you snap at him, sitting up a little straighter. “Why the hell is your dick so big, and what the fuck is going on?”

Your questions echo awkwardly through the otherwise silent room. For a tense moment, Bakugou just glares up at you. One of his eyes twitches slightly, his lips turned down in a grimace. You don’t relent, glaring right back at him. Eventually, one of you is going to have to give in, and it’s sure as shit not going to be you this time.

“Fuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut and tilts his head back against the floor. His fingers bite into your thighs when you shift on top of him, leaning a little closer. “It’s that dumbass villain’s quirk,” he sneers, baring his teeth in a snarl as he opens his eyes again. There’s nothing that could possibly prepare you for what he says next. “When I lie my cock gets bigger.”

You almost laugh. Almost. The deathly serious look in his eyes is the only thing that keeps you from bursting into a fit of giggles. And you believe him. You probably wouldn’t if you weren’t currently straddling his lap and sitting on his abnormally large cock. But, yeah. Sure. His dick gets bigger when he lies, and somehow that makes perfect sense.

“What, like some kind of kinky lie detector?” You almost suggest Pinocchio, but you doubt he’d take that well at all. 

Predictably, he makes a face at your comparison. “Sure. Whatever.”

Again, neither of you say anything, letting an awkward silence develop between you. While Bakugou just looks all around uncomfortable with the situation, your brow is pinched in thought. Honestly, this quirk seems like some bullshit. You can’t imagine what benefit anyone would get out of making someone’s dick grow when they lie, aside from the exact situation you’re currently in. You almost feel worse for the poor sap stuck with such a bizarre quirk than the Pro Hero currently lying between your legs.

A full body shiver runs through you, and every nerve suddenly becomes highly aware of the man beneath you. Every breath he takes moves his chest beneath your hands, and you can feel the rapid beating of his heart beneath your palm. The tips of his fingers ghost against your thighs, not quite touching you, like he isn’t sure what to do with his hands anymore. And, suddenly, all you can think about are those hands grabbing you by the hips and grinding you down against him.

Unbeknownst to you, similar thoughts are wreaking havoc on Bakugou. From where you’re sitting on top of him, he has a perfect view of your legs and chest, and every time you shift, the movement goes straight to his cock. He almost hisses between his teeth as your thighs tighten around his hips, which only presses the growing bulge in his pants harder against you. His fingers twitch against your legs. It would be so easy for him to roll the two of you over, pin you beneath him, and show you exactly what you do to him. Fuck you senseless until you—

“What are you thinking right now?”

The question is like a hard slap across the face. His eyes snap from the apex of your legs to your face, caught red-handed. There’s no way for him to get out of this one without his dick giving him away or an actual slap across the face. He chooses his traitor dick. “That I want you to get the fuck off me.”

You look entirely unimpressed when his dick moves between your legs, growing larger in seconds. “Liar,” you deadpan. You drum your fingers against his chest, unintentionally matching the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Tell me the truth and maybe I’ll move.” Nevermind that he could definitely throw you across the room one handed if he really wanted to. Frankly, you’re a little surprised he hasn’t already, given your current situation. 

Not that you want to move right now. You’re quite comfortable where you are.

Bakugou’s tongue swipes across his bottom lip. Those ruby eyes drag down your body slowly, shamelessly drinking in the sight of you sitting on top of him. An unexpected lick of run runs along your spine; your breath catches. “You look really fucking sexy right now,” he tells you, and his hands grab your thighs again.

It takes a second for you to register his confession, though you can’t say you’re that surprised. “Huh. Never pegged you as a guy who wanted someone on top.” You can work with that.

His brow furrows. “You know, you’re taking this surprisingly well.”

“I work in quirk registration for the police,” you remind him, shrugging. “This isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve come across.” Honestly, you aren’t even sure it makes the top ten, but you keep that to yourself. You get the feeling he’d take that as some kind of challenge, and you don’t need that kind of stress in your life. “How long has it been like this?”

A shrug. “Shit, I don’t know.” Bakugou shifts beneath you, craning his neck to look at the clock on the wall. “Thirty minutes, maybe. Why?”

“Effects from quirks like this typically only last an hour or two,” you explain. “Maybe twenty-four hours at most, depending on how much training the user has.” Your head cocks to the side as you give him an entirely unsubtle once-over. “It sounds like he didn’t give you and Kirishima much trouble though. I’d put your... little problem at an hour and a half maximum. You should be fine.”

There’s a wicked look in his eyes. “Nothing little about it, babe.” His palms slide up your legs, rucking up your skirt even higher on his way to grab your hips. “Hour left, huh?” A low hum rumbles through his chest. “I can work with that.”

You freeze. “Katsuki, what are you—”

“Look,” he cuts you off with an irritated sigh, “I’ve liked you for a long time, so if you want to fuck right now, that’s fine with me.” Heartbreaking honesty shines in his eyes, only partially masked by a layer of annoyance and boredom, like he doesn’t care either way. The way his fingers dig into your hips tells a different story.

Your eyes widen at his crass confession, your lips parting as you stare down at Bakugou in shock. “Are you…” you hesitate, swallowing down the sudden lump in your throat as your fingers curl against his shirt. “Are you serious?”

Bakugou glares at you, but his faint blush gives him away. “You’re the one sitting on my magic cock, you tell me.”

You sit there for a good minute, just staring at him, mouth opening and closing soundlessly as you try to think of any kind of response. Eventually, you settle on, “That is, by far, the worst declaration of love I’ve ever heard.”

If you thought he was glaring before, it has nothing on the look he levels you with now. “Who fucking said anything about loving you, dumbass?” he snaps, huffing, cheeks turning an even darker shade of pink. “Like hell I do!” He grits his teeth as his dick tingles.

“Yeah, well, your magic cock reveals your deceit,” you mock him. “You’re such an emotionally stunted pain in the ass, Katsuki!” 

He opens his mouth—probably to start yelling about something—but you lurch forward and meet his mouth in a fierce kiss before he can say anything. He grunts in surprise and squeeze your hips, but kisses you back eagerly, immediately tilting his chin for a better angle. The hands that were on your hips don’t hesitate to move. One slides up your back to fist in your hair, pulling you closer as the other drops to your ass. A hard grope makes you gasp against his lips, your fingers clenching tighter in the front of his hero suit.

Before things can get too heavy, too fast, you pull back, leaving just an inch of space between your lips. He doesn’t let you go much further. “I like you, too,” you whisper against him. He stiffens as your fingers touch his bare chest where his hero suit doesn’t cover him.

His heart is pounding just as quickly as yours, and he’d never admit it, but he swears your little confession does something funny to his chest. All of it does. The heat of your breath. The gentle weight of your body on top of his. Something about you makes him feel inexplicably soft, and he wants to hate that feeling, but he still can’t lie to himself without his cock growing two sizes. And if he’s going to stuff you full of his cock, he wants it to be all him.

At least at first.

With the hand still tangled in your hair, Bakugou yanks you back down. Your lips mold against his perfectly, the space left between you nonexistent. When he kisses you it’s all teeth and tongue, and your lips part readily beneath his demanding touch. He makes a low sound of approval in the back of his throat, slotting his lips harder against yours. Using the hand cupping the back of your head, he adjusts you above him, tilting your chin until he finds a position he likes.

The dominating way he touches you makes you keen, and your quiet whimper is smothered by his tongue delving into your mouth to taste you. Your legs tremble on either side of his hips as the hand on your ass gropes you again. By now, your skirt is hiked halfway up your waist, and if anyone were to walk in they’d get a perfect view of your ass and the damp spot forming between your thighs.

You arch into his touch at the thought, moaning as his teeth tug at your lip.

By the time you pull away, you both have kiss-swollen lips.

When Bakugou recalls what you called him a moment ago, he chuckles, deep and throaty, and it sends a thrilled shiver up your spine. “I’ll show you a real pain in the ass later, sweetheart,” he promises, squeezing your ass cheek for good measure. The squeeze is followed by a sharp slap, and you lurch forward, a startled squeal slipping out of your mouth.

You glare down at him. Well, you try to. It’s a little hard to pretend to be mad at him when his hand comes up to rub the spot where he smacked you, which only presses your hips closer to his growing bulge. Your tone is dry when you say, “I’m sure you will.” And then, because he’s already propositioned you and has his hand on your ass, you grind yourself against his dick.

“Shit,” he grunts, grabbing your hips. His fingers bite into your skin, twitching like he doesn’t know if he wants to still you or shove you down on his cock. A slow exhale hisses through his teeth. “You tryin’ to be a cock tease?”

The satisfaction that bubbles up in you only feeds the damp heat between your legs. He’s hardly touched you, but you can already feel yourself getting wet just from the thought of him filling you. You brace yourself against him, palms pressed flat against his chest. “You want me to stop?” Purposefully fluttering your eyelashes at him, you slowly work your hand lower, fingers grazing over lean muscle until you stop at his waist, pressing down on his belt.

As your eyes start to follow the path of your hand, Bakugou reaches out and grabs your chin. A warning squeeze makes you mewl expectantly. “Keep talking, baby, and I'll put that mouth to better use.” The pad of his thumb traces your bottom lip. Before he can let go, you tilt your head into his touch, teeth barely grazing his finger as you nip at him. “Such a little brat,” he sneers. 

You’re thrown off balance when he sits up. His abdominal muscles flex against your stomach as he crushes you against his chest, and your hands fly to his shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto. Bakugou kisses you again, lips hungry and demanding as they press against yours, and you give him complete control. He tilts your chin, pulls your hair, bites your lips, and every touch makes you feel hazy and warm.

Anticipation churns in your stomach. Your hands slide over his shoulders, looping around his neck. He grunts when your wrist brushes against the side of his neck, and when you card your fingers through his hair and tug, he lets out a sound that goes right to your core.

The hand on your ass gives you another sharp spank. The motion jerks your hips against his, and you grind down against the hard cock rubbing your inner thigh. His fingers knead your ass and the back of your thigh, groping and squeezing and helping your hips along as you rock languidly over his lap. Each roll of your hips has his cock dragging across your damp panties, the head kissing your clit through the layers of your clothes. You shudder, lost in the feeling.

You’re only half aware of him moving, not noticing until the hand that was in your hair slips beneath your shirt to palm your breast. An appreciative squeeze has you arching into him, hips stuttering against his. Bakugou nips at your bottom lip hard enough to make you whimper, and when he pulls away you’re sure it’s swollen and flushed from his treatment.

But he doesn’t leave you for long. You’re barely given a moment to breathe before his mouth is on your jaw, your cheek, your chin. Bakugou trails heated, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, only stopping when he finds a spot that has you lurching against him, a pretty little moan falling from your mouth. He laves attention to that spot, right over your racing pulse. Teeth dig into your sensitive neck, and your breath catches in your throat as he begins to suck, intent on leaving a mark. You don’t stop him as he works a hickey just below your jaw, eyes fluttering shut at the onslaught of sensation. 

Before leaving that spot, he drags his tongue across your neck to soothe the bruise he’s left behind.

Desire curls in your chest as a thought comes to mind, and you’re too slow to stop it from spilling out. “I wanna touch you,” you choke out as his mouth trails lower. Bakugou pauses, lips hovering just shy of your throat. The heat of his breath fans your damp skin, sending little pinpricks of electricity all the way to where your hips are grinding against his. You swallow, one hand fisting in the back of his shirt as his thumb brushes against the lacy cup of your bra.

“Already are, baby,” he says, partly muffled by your neck as he ghosts his lips against you. “Grinding against my cock like a little slut. Gonna get yourself off for me just like that?” He’s hiding a smirk. It’s clear what you want by the way your hips roll against his faster, grinding down harder as teasing touches turn desperate, but he wants to hear you say it. He wants you begging for his cock before he fucks you.

He ruts against you, alternating between squeezing your breast and ass. 

“Bakugou!” You try to sound reprimanding, but his name comes out as a breathy whine. There’s no way for you to get your hand on him with the way he has you pressed flush against his chest. And he’s definitely not going to make things easy for you.

As if he knows what you’re thinking, the man beneath you laughs. “You want it that bad, you better take it yourself, sweetheart.”

Huffing, you try to put some space between your hips, but his grip is firm. Bakugou swats your ass when you try to move, and you whimper as it forces your hips harder against his. You try a second time, and he pinches your nipple through the flimsy cup of your bra. Your head falls back with a moan, giving him greater access to your throat, and he smirks as he bites down on your soft skin.

Fine. You can play this game, too.

With a sharp grind of your hips, you rub your clit against him just right. Your back arches. Your thighs tense around his hips. “Ground Zero,” comes out as a needy whine against his ear. You feel him tense beneath you, his grip faltering for just a second. That’s all you need.

The momentary distraction is all you need to slide back on his thighs, putting just enough space between your hips to grab his belt and grind the heel of your hand against the massive bulge straining against his pants. Even through his pants you can feel how thick and long he is, and your pussy clenches at the thought of him fucking you senseless.

He grunts as you palm him, squeezing gently as you trace the outline of his cock. His mouth leaves your neck with a wet pop. “Shit,” Bakugou murmurs. Soft strands of his spiky hair tickle the side of your neck as he rests his head against you, reveling in the feel of your light touches.

Your fingers brush against the back of his neck, your palm grinding against him when his hips rock forward. Strong muscles flex beneath your thighs. Bakugou’s throat bobs with a harsh swallow. 

Unable to stop yourself, you duck your head, pressing your lips against the side of his neck. It’s hard to find an angle with the bracers around his neck, and your attention turns to the front of his throat instead. Bakugou groans as you kiss him, lovebites and lipstick stains left in the wake of your mouth. He lets you kiss and nip your way down to his collarbone.

Thank god for the low cut of his shirt, you think, biting down on his chest hard enough to leave a mark. At the same time, your fingers grasp at his belt, nearly snapping the buckle in your hurry to get your hand on him. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re aware of him saying something—calling you needy or naughty, you aren’t sure which—but you don’t care as you finally get your hand in his pants and grab his dick.

“You’re so big,” you murmur, eyes widening. The tips of your fingers don’t touch as you wrap your hand around his cock, stroking him languidly from base to tip. You can’t get a good look at him from your position, but you can feel every ridge and vein of his shaft, and you bite your lip at the sheer girth of him. “Is this from the quirk?” you ask him, swirling your thumb over the tip before dragging your hand back down, giving him a firm squeeze. You lean back a little, wanting to look at him, but Bakugou lurches forward to get his mouth on you again.

He groans against your ear, pressing a harsh kiss against the side of your jaw. “All me, babe,” he tells you, smug. For once, you really can’t blame him for being cocky. “Fuck, that feels good.” 

The way your soft hand slides against his shaft wrecks havoc on his brain, and Bakugou presses another heated kiss to your neck to smother a loud moan. He’s already painfully sensitive from having you hump his lap, and your tentative touch only makes him harder. And that damn quirk didn’t help at all. After over a half hour of that bullshit cock tease, he’s just aching to bury himself in your dripping pussy.

Your thumb traces the thick vein on the side of his cock, pressing against it gently before twisting your hand. The sudden change in angle and the way you squeeze him have a low sound tearing from his chest, and then your hand is being yanked out of his pants. Bakugou’s fingers clench around your wrist in a vice grip, and you wince at the mild sting.

“Get up,” he demands, nearly growling. His fingers are digging into your ass hard enough to leave faint bruises, but you don’t care. When you hesitate, he releases you only to slap the back of your thigh. “Now.”

You pussy clenches at the pain that quickly dissolves into pleasure. “What’s wrong, Katsuki,” you can’t help but tease, hoping to get a reaction out of him, “afraid you’ll cum too fast?”

He doesn’t spank you again, though his palm does press against your reddening ass cheek in a way that speaks of a warning. “Don’t make me tell you again, baby.”

It takes another second before you shift off his lap, your legs quivering as you stand. You almost consider ignoring the command. Almost. But it doesn’t take much for you to decide you’d rather see what he has planned for you.

Your thighs rub together as Bakugou rises from the floor in one fluid motion, years of training making him silent, almost catlike. He reaches for you as soon as he’s standing, towering over you, an imposing figure. The scattering of small marks on his throat makes you grin, but the smile is wiped from your face as he grabs your chin roughly between his fingers and forces you to meet his eyes.

Ruby red and blown wide with lust, the look in his sharp gaze makes your breathing hitch. A wet crackling sound leaves your mouth as your lips part for him. His thumb grazes your bottom lip. “Such a dirty fucking mouth,” he growls.

You stumble a little as he starts walking you backwards, not touching you aside from the firm grip he has on your jaw. You go willingly, eyes on his. Excitement has your stomach flipping, a nervous flutter in your belly, and you gasp when your back hits the side of his desk, the cold wood pressing against your skin where he’s tugged at the hem of your shirt. 

Bakugou’s thumb delves past your lips, dipping into your wet mouth, and your lips wrap around him greedily. Sucking gently, your teeth press against his skin possessively, tongue laving attention to his thick digit. With his free hand, Bakugou grabs the front of your plain blouse and yanks it open, careful not to rip any of the buttons. You let your shirt fall to the floor, wriggling a little as it sticks around your elbows. He reaches up to palm your breast, humming in approval once he sees your pretty bra.

“Get on your knees, baby,” he tells you, pulling his thumb from your mouth and smearing your spit across your lips, watching them glisten. “I want to see your mouth on my cock.”

You do as you’re told, practically shaking with anticipation as you drop to your knees for him. Now that you’ve gotten a feel for his cock, you’re desperate to have him inside you. Your mouth. Your pussy. It doesn’t matter which. Any thoughts of playing coy or being a brat disappear into the back of your mind as he pins you with a harsh stare. Bakugou pets your hair, threading the soft strands through his fingers to hold you still. 

You bite your lip as his free hand drops to his waist, Bakugou shoving his pants and boxers down just low enough for his cock to spring free. The size makes you swallow. He’s bigger than you thought. Thicker. And you remember how your hand couldn’t wrap all the way around him. Your thighs clench, rubbing together as a dull ache builds between your legs.

He doesn’t waste his time. Shifting forward, he palms himself, lazily stroking his cock with his own fingers, just out of your reach. When you try to lean forward, he pulls your hair, forcing you back again. “Such a little slut,” he murmurs, allowing the head of his cock to press against your wet lips, his hips slowly rocking back and forth. Your tongue flicks out to taste him, and he groans. “There you go,” he says, brushing a few stray strands of hair away from your face before he starts pushing his cock into your mouth.

You immediately close your lips around him, bobbing your head forward as much as his tight grip will let you. Bakugou feeds you his cock, sliding into your wet mouth slowly as you start to suck, letting you adjust to just how fucking thick he really is. His girth has your jaw stretched wide, forcing you to breathe slowly through your nose. You glance up at him.

“That’s it, angel,” he groans as you bob your head again, “suck my cock.” His hips rock forward in a shallow thrust; his eyes lock on your lips, stretched obscenely around his length. Wet trails of saliva stick to his cock as you pull back to swirl your tongue around the head. 

Whimpering around him, you suck harder, swallowing around him, anything that might pull another filthy moan from his mouth. Your hands grab his thighs for balance, your fingers digging into his legs as you try to pull him closer.

You’re rewarded with a low moan rumbling from his chest. Bakugou’s eyes slip shut for a second, his head tilting back in raw pleasure. “Figures you'd be a perfect little cock sucker,” he says under his breath, almost too low for you to hear him. “I bet you want me to fuck your face, huh, baby?”

You settle for moaning instead of nodding, watching him through your eyelashes as he pants above you. 

“Fuck.” A long, hissing exhale escapes through his teeth, and his hand tightens in your hair just a little bit as he watches you work his cock. You look so fucking pretty with your mouth wrapped around him, your lips slick with saliva as you take him deeper into your mouth. There are tears beading at the corners of your eyes. “Fuck,” he says again, “you feel so good.” He grunts. “How long have you been thinkin’ about sucking my cock, babe?”

You flush under his gaze, unable to answer with your mouth full of his dick, but the answer must be clear as day on your face. You don’t know what it is he’s thinking about, but you swear his cock gets bigger in your mouth, that strange quirk making him thicker so that you’re nearly choking on him.

Bakugou holds your head still as he starts to rock his hips; he moves slowly at first, his thrusts shallow and even, but he quickly picks up speed when you whine around his cock. It isn’t long before he’s fucking your mouth, thrusts as rough as you’d expect from someone like him. His cockhead brushes against the back of your throat, his hips stuttering as he holds you like that, your lips pressed nearly against the base of his cock.

Somehow, you manage to keep your eyes on him. You force your throat to relax and swallow around him. His eyes almost roll back at the sensation, but he keeps his ruby gaze locked on you, watching how well you take him. He can only imagine how good you’re going to take his cock, too. He speeds up again, groaning as the pressure in his gut starts to build.

His cock pulls from your mouth with a wet sound, and you cough, sucking in greedy mouthfuls of air. Bakugou drags you off the floor, and your startled gasp is cut off by his hand wrapping around your throat. He doesn’t squeeze, unfortunately, just holds his palm there. The next thing you know, you’re being shoved against the nearest wall, your cheek pressed to the chilly surface as Bakugou all but rips off your skirt, leaving you in just your underwear and shoes. 

The fabric pools on the floor in a crumpled heap, and Bakugou kicks it aside in order to spread your legs from behind. You brace your hands against the wall, ass out, and he’s on you in a second.

Teasing is thrown out the window as he finally—finally—touches you. One of his hands reaches around you to grope your chest, palming your breast roughly before shoving the cup of your bra aside to tweak and pinch your nipple. You’re a panting, whining mess by the time he gets his hand between your legs. Two thick fingers drag over the crotch of your panties, and he actually laughs when he feels how wet you are. “Shit, you get that horny just from sucking my cock?”

Blearily, you nod, pressing your pussy closer to his hand. Bakugou shoves your panties to the side, fingers skimming through your wetness before rolling over your clit. You nearly sob at how good it feels to have him touch you. It’s like his hands were meant to please you, big and rough, his calloused fingers providing the perfect amount of friction. Each precise stroke of his fingers feeds the knot in your belly, keeping you right on the edge of coming undone.

“You’re gonna feel so fucking good on my cock,” he tells you removing his fingers from your clit to squeeze your ass. His cock quickly replaces his hand between your thighs, his thick length rubbing against your slick pussy, the head bumping against your clit with every stroke. Bakugou lets go of your breast; his hand slaps against the wall beside your head for balance. “Pretty cunt squeezing around me. That what you want?”

“Please. Oh, please,” you mumble. Anything to get him inside you. It almost hurts how turned on you are right now. From the corner of your eye, you see him reach for the hem of his shirt, about to pull it off. “Don’t!”

Bakugou goes absolutely still at your sharp cry. The only movement is his eyes snapping up to meet yours, flooded with concern as he checks to see if he’s hurting you.

But you whimper, trying to shove yourself back on his cock. “Don’t take it off,” you clarify breathlessly, legs quivering with the effort of holding yourself up.

The concern bleeds from his eyes, and they’re taken over by something dark and hungry instead as he realizes what you mean. He thrusts his cock between your thighs, your slick covering his cock as it drips from you. Your eyes flutter as he pressed against your clit again. “Don’t take what off?” He wants to hear you say it.

And you’re so painfully aroused that the words come spilling out of your mouth before you can stop him. “Your costume,” you choke out around a loud moan. “I want you to fuck me while you’re wearing your costume.” That’s one dirty little fantasy you’ve had for a while, maybe ever since you met him. The thought of him fucking you while he’s still in costume is almost too much, but god do you want it badly.

“That so?” he drawls. His hand drops from his shirt back to your ass cheek, groping you before spreading you from behind. He takes a step back, ignoring your whine, and whistles when he gets a good look at your dripping slit. Bakugou tugs your hips back, forcing your back to arch for him. “What a naughty little slut. You got a thing for heroes, baby?”

Just you, you think, but all you can do is moan his name. “Bakugou.”

You cry out as he slaps your ass. “No, no, no,” he repremends. “That's not what you call me.”

“Katsuki, please,” you manage to whine around a harsh swallow.

He spanks you again. “Come on, angel, you know what to say.” It takes a second for it to click, but when it does you blush. “Fuck, look how wet you are.” He chuckles as he looks at your glistening thighs. Another love tap lands on your reddening ass. “You like it when I spank you?”

“Yes,” you mewl.

He spreads your legs open wider. “Yes, what?”

You take a deep, shuddering breath, cheek pressed against the wall in front of you. “Yes, Ground Zero.” Your tongue runs across your bottom lip. “Sir,” you tack on.

“Good girl.” 

There’s no warning as he adjusts himself behind you, cock slamming into you hard enough to steal your breath. There’s no resistance, you're so wet. You pussy clenches around him, your walls sucking him in deeper. That’s all it takes for an orgasm to rip through you, the knot in your belly snapping so fast that all you can do is let out a silent scream as you slump forward against the wall.

Bakugou is equal parts shocked and amused as you try to milk his cock, and he grits his teeth as his dick twitches inside of you, almost pulling him over with you. “Fuck,” he laughs. “You cum just from me filling you up?” You whimper and nod. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight.” 

He presses you closer to the wall, and his arm slips beneath your knee, lifting your leg and holding you open. Your thigh burns from the stretch. His cock drags along your walls slowly before, only the tip left inside before he thrusts back into you, reaching deeper.

He picks up a steady pace, slamming into you over and over. You’re already so sensitive from your first orgasm, and little gasps and whines keep falling from your mouth with every brutal thrust as Bakugou finds your sweet spot, hitting it perfectly as he pounds you. He’s thick and hard inside you, even bigger than he was in your mouth, and your eyes widen when you realize he’s doing it on purpose. “How big can you get?” you gasp, moaning as his cock expands inside you, filling you up completely.

“As big as you fucking want me,” he snarls back, fucking you faster, hiking your leg up higher.

All you can do is hold on and take it.

You don’t know how much time passes, the only sounds are your heavy breathing and his harsh panting against your ear. Sweat drips down your back where he’s sliding over you, and his fingers bite into your thigh as he almost loses his grip. “You know whose office is on the other side of this wall?” he asks suddenly. “Answer me, baby!” A particularly harsh thrust follows the demand.

“No, Sir,” you pant.

“Fucking Deku.” He grits his teeth as that now familiar tingle goes right to his cock, but you don’t seem to notice the lie. “You think he’s in there right now? His desk is right on the other side.” You pussy squeezes around him, and Bakugou moans against the side of your neck. “I bet he can hear you in here panting like a whore as I fuck your slutty little cunt.”

Your back arches into him, the revelation reigniting the fire he lit inside you. That knot comes back, just as tight as before, and you tremble as you realize he’s going to make you cum again. “Ground Zero,” you whine.

He lets go of your thigh, but keeps your knee hooked around his elbow. His hand snakes around your hips to rub your clit, and you jerk against him. “He’s got some new intern, too. Some little high school brat.” A high-pitched, needy sound falls from your mouth. “Fuck, you sound so pretty when you moan my name.” He rolls your clit harder between his fingers, and the heat rolling from him is so sweltering that it’s hard to breathe. “Shit, you’re gonna be filling this kid’s fantasies for weeks. He’s probably gettin’ off to you right now.” His cock gets bigger inside you; his hips grind against you harder. “But your pussy’s mine, angel. Got that?”

You nod, delirious.

And, fuck, he just doesn’t stop talking. “You gonna cum?” he asks, fingers moving faster over your clit. “Gonna cum from thinking about Deku and his intern listening to me fuck you?” You shudder and gasp, shoving yourself back on his cock in a weak attempt to match his brutal pace. “That’s it, baby, cum on my fat cock. Let everyone know who’s making you feel so good. I wanna hear you scream so fucking loud that everyone in this goddamn building knows my name.”

Bakugou pinches your clit. Your eyes slam shut, body locking up as he throws you into another powerful climax. “Katsuki!” you shriek, his name ripping from your throat in a raw scream.

This time, he doesn’t hold himself back. A series of harsh thrusts drag out your orgasm until you’re sobbing, a few tears slipping out and rolling down your cheeks. His cock twitches, swelling, and he shoves inside of you as deep as he can go before cumming inside you, his thick seed filling you up and dripping down your thigh.

He doesn’t pull out, leaning his head against your shoulder as you both try and catch your breath. Bliss washes over you as he kisses your neck, mumbling a string of garbled praises against your ear.

You blush when something he said hits you full force, finally able to process it now that he’s not fucking you senseless. “Midoriya,” you gasp, trying to crane your head around to look at him.

Bakugou presses more of his weight against your back, slowly lowering your leg back to the floor. His hands grasp your hips when your legs threaten to collapse beneath you. “Bastards office is on the other wall,” he says, calming you down. “‘Sides, it’s his day off.”

Relief floods through you. “You have absolutely no filter, do you?”

He shrugs, kissing across your cheek. “I don’t see you complainin’.”

You laugh a little breathlessly. “You made me cum twice,” you remind him. “I don’t give a shit what you were saying.” You shift in his embrace, wincing as his cock moves inside you. Fuck, you’re sensitive.

He stills you. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?” he asks. When he sees your obviously confused look, he gives you a shallow thrust, his cock still hard inside you. “Oh, angel, we’ve still got thirty minutes, right? We’re just getting started.”

[piratesfromspace]

You Again (Frank Castle/Reader)

Frank Castle (the Punisher) x Reader

Word count: 1.5k TW: light description of wound and bruises, implied rape attempt, mention of alcohol, canon-typical violence, reader has ✨issues✨

Female pronouns for reader

Note: Some hurt/comfort with Frank Castle. For unknown reasons, reader can’t go see a normal doctor. This story was inspired by an unpublished fanfic written by a dear friend of mine, in which Frank already helps reader.

MASTERLIST

“You. Again.”

You never had been so happy to hear his gruff voice. 

“And you’re a fuckin’ mess.” Frank added, tone flat.

“You should see the other guy.” you croaked, trying as best as you could to smile despite the cut on your lower lip.

You were, indeed, a mess. 

Battered and bloody, you were sitting - or more accurately slouching - on the dirty floor, in front of one of Castle’s hideouts door, on a random Tuesday night. Your right hand was badly hiding the knife’s wound on your stomach, the gash in your blood-soaked T-shirt obvious behind your feeble fingers. Angry bruises were already blooming around your wrist, adding yet another painful layer to your miserable appearance. 

“Fuck.” He let the word slip between gritted teeth while scanning your body. You were not in great shape. 

“Fine, come here, don’t bleed out on my front porch.” 

There was a moment of awkward silence, while you tried to put yourself on your feet, before admitting you were too weak to accomplish the simple task.

“I-I can’t... stand up.” 

Frank closed his eyes for a second, exhaling through his nose, just like he would do to try and calm himself to avoid scolding a child. He eventually crouched beside you, slipping an arm under the crook of your knees, and the other behind your shoulders, gathering you in his arms and lifting you effortlessly like you weighed nothing. 

The door closed behind him thanks to a powerful kick of his foot, and you finally allowed yourself to relax a little, feeling safe for the first time in days. 

The dingy flat was nowhere near the level of comfort you would wish for yourself, but he was here, in this room, breathing and alive and focusing on you, and that was all that mattered at this moment. 

---

“I’m the first choice when it comes to patching you up I guess.” 

“Don’t flatter yourself, I wouldn’t have come if I had any other option.”

Frank was trying his best to stitch the wound on your stomach without hurting you too much, but the lack of anesthesia was making it difficult. The witty banter was one way of distracting you, and you were grateful for it.

“Done.” 

The needle clattered on the plate he had put on the floor next to the mattress you were lying on. You let out the breath you were holding, pain slowly radiating through your whole body, making his lazy way from the cut on your belly to the rest of your limbs, awakening in its path the dozens of bruises littering your skin. Your vision got blurry for a moment, ears ringing.

“Hey, stay with me.” his hand was on the side of your face, cradling your cheek while avoiding to touch the cuts on your lips. His warm and callused fingertips against your cheek gently brought you back to reality. 

You could feel his gaze on your face, cataloguing every cut and scratch, and you did not miss the way his eyes just narrowed for a second when they fell on your neck, his fingers hovering above the bruises there. 

“Are you hurt elsewhere?”

“No.” you knew the moment the word escaped your mouth that you had answered way too fast and way too loud for you to be believable.

“You’re so bad at lying it hurts to see you try, you know?”

“I’m f-fine.”

“No you’re not.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Since you’re the one bleeding on MY mattress, I would argue that it’s also my business now.” 

Your defense was pathetic and he was so patient with you, you wondered why you had to be such a defensive jerk sometimes. You slouched a little more, you wanted to disappear into his mattress. 

“Truth is… I-I don’t really know.” 

“Let me take a look.” It was not a question, but he waited nonetheless for you to nod your approval before helping you shimmy out of your torned jeans. You winced, the movement cruelly reminding you of the freshly stitched wound on your abs. 

“Do I need to kill someone?” was his only reaction when the galaxy of black and purple bruises on your thighs appeared from under your pants. 

“He’s already dead.” 

He knew you were not lying this time, the proudness in your soft voice too earnest to be faked. 

“What happened?” he asked, voice so low and caring, like he was talking to a wounded animal.

“You know what happened.” you answered sternly.

Frank wasn’t dumb and it would only take half a brain to do the maths and understand the situation given the bruises on your neck, wrists and thighs, and the broken zipper of your jeans.

“Do you need medication? Something for...” he seemed lost all of a sudden.

“No, Frank, I killed him before anything happened. That was the plan.”

“The plan? You planned on being attacked and… “ he froze, his mind working to make sense of your words. He quickly understood, his expression suddenly changing. If he was looking sorry a few seconds ago, now he was angry.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been up with this vigilante bullshit again?” 

“That’s rich coming from you.” you scoffed.

“You’re not a 6-foot-tall trained marine.”

“That’s the point, I can easily lure those guys, unlike you.” You cut him off.

“You should have told me first.”

“What? I don’t need your permission.”

“You need my protection.” he was starting to lose his patience.

“I can take care of myself.”

“Says the girl bleeding on my doorstep.” he snorted.

The bastard got a point.

“At least I’m trying to be useful.” you retorted, in a low blow, a foolish attempt to not lose too quickly.

“You won’t be useful when you’re dead.”

“Right now I wish I was.” you grumbled, running out of replies.

“Don’t you ever say that again.”

“Fuck you Frank. Fuck you.” 

He was tiring. You should have known you had zero chance of winning this argument from the get go. You couldn’t even go and dramatically slam the door on your way out. Your shaking legs would barely carry you up. Ok, maybe, just maybe, he was right. Maybe it was a bad idea, and your injured body was just the proof of his implacable logic.

Frank rose on his feet slowly, a hand rubbing on the back on his head - he always did that when he was stressed and thinking too much. 

“Stay here until you’re somewhat healed.” his eyes were avoiding yours, his voice too soft whereas you wished he would be mad, because he would be way easier to fight him this way. “Please.”

It’s not like you were physically able to go anywhere else, and truth be told it’s not like you wanted to go anywhere else. The hurt in his voice made your heart clench. You had been unfair, just like usual. A stupid defense mechanism.

You thought about the last time he had to patch you up. A mean fever. Found you unconscious in a dark alley. Frank had taken good care of you, slowly bathed you in cold water to lower the fever, before tucking you against him under a blanket and nursing you back to life the following days. He had even kissed you that first night, and the next morning, when you felt better, he had pressed his body against yours and made you feel even better, this time with different means than some cold water. The memory of his kindness contrasting with your current ungratefulness had you on the verge of tears. 

You were mad at yourself. 

“I’m-I’m sorry.” you offered after what seemed like an eternity. 

”And… thank you.” you added, trying your best to not burst out crying right there. 

Castle said nothing, he just left for the kitchen and came back with a glass of water, before squatting next to you and handing you the precious liquid. You gulped the whole shot down, you had not realized before how parched you were. 

“You lost some blood, that’s why you’re dehydrated.” he explained matter of factly, voice devoid of hurt or anger, like your little scene had not existed. And that’s why I’m saying nonsense, you thought to yourself.

“I’ll bring you some more.” 

Before he could rise up again, you reached out to touch his face. The sudden movement sent sparks of pain through your guts but you did not flinch. His eyes bore into yours and you closed the distance between you. The kiss was soft then fierce, it felt like finally letting go of something that was burning you from the inside, your injury forgotten the second his lips touched yours. The taste of blood in your mouth was soon replaced by the taste of him and the lingering notes of the whiskey he surely drank before you arrived. 

Castle fell slowly on his knees, carefully hugging you, breaking the kiss only to bury his face in the crook of your neck and whisper inaudible praises between two “silly girl”. 

You closed your eyes. It felt like finally being home. Finally being safe.

[sohin-ace]

Kakyoin - Fateful Day

Kakyoin x Jotaro's sister reader

I freaking love the Joot-sister prompt

You were always used to Jotaro and you walking separatedly from and to school. The guy had way longer legs than you and would rather not be seen with you in public and near school, for reasons mysterious to you.

At first you felt offended that he would be ashamed of you, or just not bear your presence.

You did not know, in fact, that the reasons he kept his distance from you as much as he could when on schoolgrounds or when going to school, was to protect you from danger.

Not only was Jotaro constantly surrounded by crazy girls who would probably harass you for existing in his world, but he also had troubles, to understate, with local delinquents and other gangsters who wanted to throw some hands at him.

Furthermore, with the new discovery of that bizarre, seemingly evil spirit that started following him around, you were really the last person he wanted to hurt.

Unfortunately, being distant from his little sister wasn't near enough to protect her this time.

One fateful day, soon after your grandfather arrived in Japan and Jotaro got out of holding, you were walking home from school as usual.

Jotaro was already a solid five minutes away in front of you, which meant you were all alone.

You didn't mind the lone walk, the town was peaceful and you were used to it. But something irked you when you felt an insistant presence behind you.

You turned around, checking, but no one was there. You shrugged the feeling off, feeling a bit stupid for thinking the worse and kept walking, telling yourself it must have been a cat or an innocent someone who got home.

"Jotaro~! Welcome back- hm? Where is your sister?" Holly asked as she welcomed her son who just came home.

The boy grunted, reluctantly accepting his 'welcome home' smooch. "She's coming. She's just slow."

After a long while of waiting for your return, Holly started to worry, stress and anxiety clouding her mind. Panicked, she barged in Jotaro's bedroom. You weren't usually this late.

"Jotaro, are you sure Y/N was behind you? It's been almost thirty minutes and she's still not back…"

Jotaro huffed in annoyance as he got up from his laid down position on his bed.

"Yare yare daze, quit worrying over nothing, she's probably fine."

" 'Probably'?!"

"What's going on, Holly?" Joseph joined in after hearing the commotion.

"Y/N's not back from school yet… I'm scared something might have happened to her…" Holly explained to her father, dread even more evident in her voice as she worded her worries.

Joseph rubbed her shoulder in reassurance, "It's okay, Holly, I'm sure she's not that far. Jotaro! Get up and go look for your sister! You're supposed to keep an eye on her, that's your role as a big brother!"

The old man scolded as the teenager stood up and got on his way, as if he had been asked an annoying chore.

"Yare yare, you're all so noisy over nothing." He put his shoes back on and took his leave.

Stopping every once in a while and unable to shake off your uneasy feeling truly delayed you. You were sure you'd never hear the end of this if your father knew how late you were today.

"Kujo..." A sudden deep voice called right behind you, and you turned around, meeting with a complete stranger. "…Am I correct?"

"Yes?" You replied a bit shyly as you turned fully to him. "And you are...?"

As you now had a better look at him, you realised how handsome he actually looked. Not at all how you imagined a potential creep following you.

He wore your school's uniform but you didn't recognize his face. He must be a new student, you told yourself. He had beautiful red hair and a white shawl that flew gracefully in the wind. He was also strongly and elegantly built. Just who was he?

But all that charm quickly shifted as he smirked eerily in response. He approached you, his eyes glaring into your soul and you stepped backwards as fear built up inside you. Why was he looking at you like that so suddenly?

The uneasiness from before came up tenfold, this time completely justified. You spoke up as he came uncomfortably close to you, towering over your much smaller form.

"U-um… Did you need something…?" You hesitantly stuttered as he now stood arm-length away from you.

"Yes I do." He spoke confidently, his goal like set in stone. "I need you to lead me to your brother."

"What? My brother? If it's a fight you want with him, I won't let you." You protested with more confidence, now that you started to understand where he came from.

You were used to people trying to pick fights with Jotaro. You knew your brother had way too many enemies for his own good, and surely you wouldn't let anyone get to him and filter them out if you had the occasion.

"Who even are you? I don't recognize you from school…" You squinted your eyes warily. This boy arised too many questions in your mind.

Kakyoin smiled softly at you, which you didn't trust at all. He was fishy and there was something in his eyes that you quite couldn't put you finger on.

"My name is Kakyoin Noriaki." He sighed. "I didn't want to use force on a lady, but you don't leave me any choices..."

Before you could even react, green tentacle-like appendices appeared from behind him and lunged at you. You gasped and bolted away as fast as you could.

You knew it. It was bad. Real bad. You had no chance against a Stand user like him, you couldn't manage your own newly found Stand just yet. It was exactly like your grandfather said.

You tried to run, but not even 2 meters far and his green vectors wrapped around your ankles.

As you were about to trip and land on the floor, more of the tentacles wrapped around your legs, waist, arms and wrists, preventing you from falling, keeping you still in mid-air.

You couldn't move. Kakyoin came up behind you as you struggled in Hierophant Green's grip.

"Well that was easy." He snickered over your tied up and desperate form.

"LET ME GO!! LET ME- HMMFF!" He put a large hand over your mouth, effectively silencing your now muffled screams.

"Shhh! Don't make this harder for us, I'll just borrow your body real quick. It'll be over before you even know it. I'll make this painless, I'm a gentleman."

He released your mouth and Hierophant green squeezed itself around your neck, choking you, your mouth agape for you desperately needed air.

He took this advantage to grab your wrists and lock you against his chest as his Stand released you to nest itself inside your opened mouth.

Your body tensed up at the foreign and disgusting feeling of the spirit slipping down your throat and you violently squirmed in Kakyoin's grip as he forced your mouth closed, keeping the Stand inside to own your will and possess you. Just as Dio had taught him.

"Good. That's good. Jotaro would never kill his own sister, now would he? Even though his own sister will kill him. How tragically ironic."

He wrapped his arms back to your midsection as you stopped squirming, tired and breathless from fighting against him in vain. He held you against him as he knew you would surely collapse if he let go.

"Haaah… Ahh… Haaaa… Haaahh…" You panted shakily, scared and exhausted as your head hung low and your cold hands rested upon his own, barely able to swat them away from you with how shakey you were.

You were weak and alone, which was perfect for him to use. He chuckled and you felt the rumble of his chest against your back as he did. You felt like crying.

"It's too bad that you have to die. You're so cute, I would have loved to bring you to Master Dio with me."

You suddenly felt nauseous. You felt his stand inside you, trying to slide itself into every part of you and take control of your body.

You tried to resist, your arms and legs were shaking, your arched your back and writhed in pain, you knew your own Stand was fighting against it.

To Kakyoin's utter shock, Hierophant Green was violently pushed out of you by your own Stand as you let out lung-piercing coughs. Spitting the enemy out like some flesh-eating parasyte.

"WHAT-?!" Kakyoin yelped at the scene, but was then forced to let go of you as your Stand punched Hierophant Green in the face, the red-head owner feeling the hit full-force as well.

Kakyoin fell down, knocked down by the impact as you collapsed to your knees, coughing up and vomiting spit and blood.

Adrenaline pushing you through, you didn't let yourself any time to recover and took this chance to run away as fast as you could, taking sharp turns and passing through narrow paths that you prayed he wouldn't fit through or have the idea of searching.

You eventually lost track of him, gasping desperately for air as your lungs hurt in a dry and sharp pain, fed by the ceaseless pounding of your heart. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably, you couldn't take it anymore.

Right as you passed the Torii gate of the temple nearest to your neighborhood, one you walked through every day, you passed out cold onto the paved holy ground.

Jotaro slowly walked his way back to the path you usually both took to come home after school. He walked and walked, but still no trace of you on the way.

Although he would never admit it, his anxiety grew inside him and his heartbeat quickened as he realised that you were way too far from home for his own liking. You were right behind him, how could this happen?

He started to feel guilty that he didn't even check if you were still following him or not. Especially when he realized that so many people, people who yearned to get under Jotaro Kujo's skin, could easily do so by taking you down and harming you, his own sister.

His train of thoughts were interrupted when he found something, or rather someone on the stoned floor of the local temple. And as he approached the figure, sure enough, his eyes widened and his heart jumped in his chest. No...

"Y/N…!"

He immediately kneeled down next to you and lifted you to his lap. He checked you up and down for injuries and noticed you had fresh bruises forming on your wrists and neck and you were bleeding from your mouth. He could not believe what he was seeing.

"Aah… Jojo…" you whimpered in a wheeze as you recognized your brother's voice and his smokey scent.

"Who did this to you? What's the name of that fucking asshole?!" He growled, his gruff voice contrasting with the care he held you with.

"H-he's a stand user like you… Kakyoin… He's after you, don't go to school tomorrow…" You croaked and coughed out while looking up at his worried eyes and your brother scoffed.

"Yare yare, you're stupid to think I won't go to school and drum his ass."

He lifted you up and carried you back home to get your injuries treated. As to be expected, Holly freaked out at your state and Jotaro received a earful from Joseph who told him to never let a young girl walk all by herself, let alone his little sister and especially with all the trouble he gets into.

The next day, you stayed home to rest for the day, making you feel much better. Thankfully you had no major injuries and the Speedwagon foundation doctors knew about Stand inflicted wounds.

You had interesting chats with the guest Abdul and Joseph spoiled you all day like you were his baby which, to be fair, you were in his eyes.

In the mean time, Jotaro had met with Kakyoin and had an inevitable fight. Unfortunately, what Kakyoin had going on was much deeper than just wanted to bully Jotaro. When Jotaro came back home, he brought Kakyoin's unconscious body and you learned about what happened to him, about Dio, the fleshbud, and why he aimed at killing Jotaro.

Knowing what had transpired and with you doing much better, you decided to go check on the boy. You felt it was important to start allover with him.

You knocked gently on the guest room's door and slid it open, revealing Kakyoin in his injured state. Your brother truly did not hold back, you thought.

"Hello Kakyoin…" You greeted a bit shyly as you walked through the door. The red head looked at you with wide eyes as he recognized you.

"Y-...you're the girl I attacked yesterday?" You nodded and he sighed sadly. "I'm deeply sorry for what I did… That was.... Despicable of me..."

"Don't worry," You approached him and knelt down at his side. "My grandfather explained what happened to you. I'm not mad. You weren't yourself."

Kakyoin then glanced at your bruised neck and looked away in shame.

"I can't believe I harmed a girl… in such a low, awful way…" You chuckled lightly at his exaggerated worry.

"Hey, I'm fine! Look, you're in an even worse state than I am. Stop fretting and let us take care of you, okay?" You gently smiled at him.

He looked at you with a soft gaze. He bit his lip and blinked back the tears that prickled in his eyes. Were all members of this family pure redempting angels of sympathy and goodness?

"Thank you, Kujo, you're very kind..."

"Just call me Y/N." You smiled as you leaned in to move out some hairs that were stuck to his frontal bandage.

"Y/N…" He softly repeated, a blush rising to his face. Even your name was beautiful, he thought to himself, never daring to say it out loud.

His heart fluttered in his chest at your feathery touch and he felt suddenly much shier. He wanted to hold that soft hand in his own, but before he could even do anything, Holly called your name from afar.

"Y/N! Can you please come here for a second?"

"I'm coming!" You replied before looking back at the boy. "Sorry, I have to go. I'll let you rest until dinner is ready."

Kakyoin nodded and laid back down on the mattress. He let out a soft 'oh' of surprise when you gripped the blanket and tucked him in sweetly before getting up and leaving, sliding the door close behind you.

He sighed, unable to fight his little goofy grin.

"Damn it… I'm falling in love…"

Old writing again. I'm really just putting the dusty stuff I should have posted a year ago. I apologize for the poor litterature.

[allmyspideys]

a poe dameron x reader angst that ends with fluff maybe 🥺👉👈

Hi okay so i took this in a little bit of a different way and our “angst” is more like bickering coworkers aka enemies to wounded to… lovers :) i hope this is okay! If it’s not, just ask again and i’ll give you some real angst! Requests are still open btw lovies!! 

“Dameron!” You yelled, hopping down from your x-wing, not even waiting for a ladder. Across the hanger Poe Dameron stood with his stupid little hands on his hips with his stupid big head back laughing with the other members of his team.

“Poe!” You yelled again as you marched your way over to him. The little crowd that had grown around him quickly dissipated when they saw you coming. It wasn’t that you had a reputation per se, it was more that you had a reputation with Poe and no one wanted to be close enough to accidentally get caught in the crossfire. 

Poe smirked as he saw you coming, trying to ignore the fact that his heart picked up a little bit when he saw you jump out of your x-wing and immediately call his name. He liked the way his name sounded coming out of your mouth, but he would never tell you that. 

“Captain,” he said cooly, “that was some good flying out there today”.

“Yeah,” you chided, voice thick with sarcasm and spite, “well I was the only team leader that had some good flying”. 

Poe gave a little chuckle before turning and beginning to walk away. He unzipped his flight suit and tied the sleeves around his waist. You faltered for a second, caught up by the way Poe’s tanned and shiny skin rippled over his muscles as he pulled down the sleeves. You couldn’t help but ogle at the contrast between his soft black tank top stretching across the peak of his shoulder. Just for a second you allowed yourself to imagine those arms wrapped around you in comfort, or being used to pin you against something harder, but you shook yourself out of that daydream. It was Poe Dameron after all and there were nicer men in the Resistance than him. 

“Don’t you walk away from me Dameron,” you spat, falling in step closely behind, ignoring the voice in your head that told you to flat tire your Commander, “you could have killed someone today! You were reckless and dangerous-” 

“Listen Gold Leader, I knew what I was doing and I knew where you were. It was just a flyby,” Poe said, maintaining his cool attitude, “Now go get a few drinks with your team. I know they miss you”. 

You tried to hold your tongue, you really did, but there was just something about Poe Dameron and chilled out attitude to everything stupid and cocky he did. It had been building for a while, but mentioning your team was the last straw and you just snapped. 

“Well Black Leader, maybe someone else should be leading your team,” you spat, voice full of venom, “instead of someone with a superiority complex with the sole focus on himself”. 

Poe spun around and his face was just as angry as yours. It surprised you and caused you to stumble back a little bit, but Poe’s arm reached out around your waist and pulled you close. If it were any other situation, both you and Poe would be reveling in the mutual warmth raiding off of one another and committing the closeness of one another to memory. 

“Enough Captain,” Poe noted the way your face showed a flash of fear before returning to stubborn anger, “I am your Commander and you will respect my orders. Now go be with your team and don’t speak to me like that again,” the tension was palpable, but only the quick flick of your eyes to Poe’s lips would have given away that it was because of anything other than the argument you were having, “Is that understood?”. Poe leaned closer on each word, so that his breath was hot on your face and hand warm around your back. In any other situation it could have been hot and enjoyable to have him that close.

You gave a dry chuckle, “Pulling rank,” you leaned closer to Poe’s face, “You only do this because you know I’m right”. 

Poe tried to think of a retort, but his mind was consumed by the fact that your lips were mere centimeters away from his. He could only think about the way your nose was flaring out of anger in the same way it flared when you laughed with your team. He wanted to say something, but the notice of your hand on his chest radiating warmth short circuited his brain and he just could think of anything other than you. Poe’s eyes scanned your face for any indication that you were feeling the same way he was and landed on your lips. 

At that moment, BB-8 bumped into Poe’s feet, causing him to let go and pull away. He looked over you one last time before turning away again. 

“Go be with your team Commander,” he said, sauntering away. 

You were both so stubborn and hotheaded, though it showed in different ways. For every instance that you were organized, Poe was impulsive and for every time that Poe was calculating, you were there to point out every flaw. There was a time that Leia thought you’d make a good team. That’s why she appointed you Gold Leader to work with Poe as Black Leader, but the first time she saw you in a meeting, she quickly realized that she was wrong. All you did was bicker, both needing to be right, but Leia knew that one day you’d agree and make one hell of a stubborn decisive team. She knew that Poe would run headfirst into battle if you were hurt and you’d lay down entire armies if it meant getting to Poe. Leia wasn’t the only one to see it, but she was the first to see that behind all the bitterness, there was so much care and concern for the other. It just needed to be brought out, and one day it would. 

It happened for Poe first. Poe knew he cared about you, and that he was attracted to you, but he also knew that your moments of stubbornness were very annoying. In that though, you were the only person he allowed to speak to him as you did. Maybe no one else had a reason to yell at him or maybe no one else had the guts, but if anyone else tried, Poe knew that he wouldn’t like it because that was reserved for you. He liked that about you, but he also really didn’t like that too. 

Poe knew that you needed to work on your x-wing and he did too, so after asking around your team, he found out exactly when you’d be in the hanger. So the night before, he moved his x-wing right next to yours, so you’d have to share a toolbox and at least talk about that.

You were still pissed off about Poe pulling rank on you and hadn’t spoken to him more than you had to in the weeks following and Poe missed you. He missed talking about new x-wing parts and upgrades. He missed the way your eyes would light up when you talked about your home planet. He even missed the teasing bickering. It all brought so much joy to him. He was going to make sure that his plan worked and that he got to talk to you again. 

Poe was working on his x-wing long before you were; he wanted to look like he had planned it before you did, so he could tease you about always finding him. Poe liked to tease you to watch you roll your eyes and flash him a little smirk. 

Poe looked up at the sound of your footsteps across the hanger. He was beautiful. The way his wild curls were fully unruly and fluffy made you want to run to him and just run your fingers through his hair. His fingers were covered in grease and arms glistening with sweat. He was wearing that stupid black tank top again that fully showed off his arms and numbed your brain a little bit. As you got closer, you could see the glint of happiness in Poe’s eyes as he tried to shove down the smile that was threatening to burst out of him purely from seeing you. 

As you walked by him, Poe called out to you, “When I saw your x-wing parked next to mine I knew you’d come running to see me,” he finally flashed you his big grin causing you to smile a little too, “you just couldn’t help yourself huh.” 

“Not when it comes to you, baby,” you quipped back, giving Poe a little bump. Calling him baby was a common joke between you two, but every time it gave a flurry of flutters in Poe’s stomach and he longed for you to call him baby for real. He wanted to hear you call him baby when you woke up in the middle of the night and wanted more cuddles. He wanted you to call him baby as you held his head against your chest after a long mission. He didn’t know that you wanted that too. 

Very quickly you fell into a gentle conversation, talking about everything from BB-8 asking for a new antenna and the droid you were looking at getting, to telling Poe more about your homeland and him telling you about his mom. Every now and then you’d ask Poe, “could you pass me …” and every time Poe’s breath would stop for the split second that his hand brushed yours and you gave him a wide smile and a thanks. 

As you reached into your x-wing, something sliced your hand and you immediately jumped back, clamping your other hand over it, trying to stop the bleeding before it started. 

“Oh dear Maker!” you shouted, face scrunching up in pain. Immediately, Poe was at your side, hands already starting to run over yours, looking for anything that was wrong.

“Here, use my bandanna to hold pressure,” he said, trying to move your hands out of the way to see the cut. You held the bandana over your finger, but started trying to move away from Poe. Every step and turn you took, Poe countered.

“Could you just stop and go get me the first aid kit,” you yelled at him. Poe ran to grab it and came back to you immediately trying to fix you up again. 

“Poe stop!” Poe’s deep brown eyes flicked up to yours and you could see the concern in his eyes. You’d never actually seen Poe worried about you. Sure, you had heard about Poe asking your teammates how you were doing or how a mission went, but it was never to your face. Seeing it sparked something deep inside of you, a warmth that made you regret snapping at him.

“I can do it myself,” you whispered, looking down, unable to look him in the eye.

“I know,” Poe tilted your chin up, so he could see your beautiful face, “but you don’t have to”. Poe’s voice was so warm and full of care, that you looked back up at him to see something more than just concern, but you couldn’t quite tell what it was. Poe knew what it was. He hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself for a long time, but finally, the love he had for you broke through. Poe loved you and he wanted you to know. 

Poe put as much love as he possibly could into gently wiping away the blood and cleaning up your wound, muttering a small “sorry” when you hissed at the pain. The love he was feeling fueled his hands wrapping yours in gauze and fueled his lips as he gave your palm a small kiss.

“All better,” he said, resisting the urge to lean down and give your head a small kiss too as he put away the first aid kit. 

Poe knew that he loved you, but you just felt warm and fuzzy and confused, unwilling to let yourself think that Poe Dameron could view you as anything other than his inferior that he shoved in your face only a few weeks prior. Part of you wanted to hold onto that feeling, letting the warmth from Poe’s hands on yours linger, but the other part wanted to shove the warmth spreading through your chest from the care that Poe gave you so far down. You thought you had, but every now and again, Poe would flash you a smile from across a hanger and your cheeks would get warm with the spreading warmth from your heart.

You’d never tell anyone, but you really didn’t need to. Leia saw it immediately. She saw the way that Poe would gently grab your wrist as you yelled at him for something stupid he had done. She watched the way he would lean back in his chair, resigned to accept whatever you were giving him. She saw that meetings started to go more and more smoothly as you would actually listen to each other and build a plan, together. Leia even saw the few times Poe pulled you aside to apologize for getting too heated when you two did disagree. 

Is kind of sad that it took Poe getting seriously hurt for you to willingly admit it, but all is fair in love and war. You were never told what actually happened, but the second that Snap ran into your room telling you that Poe was hurt, you set off running. Snap followed closely behind rattling off the whole story, but all you heard were words.  You heard him say “Poe was fixing your ship” and that was the last thing that registered; you’re only thought was getting to Poe. 

After pushing your way through people and mumbling excuse me, you finally saw him. Poe was laying on a little cot, right above the ground in the hanger. His whole arm was covered in blood from a gash that no one could get to stop bleeding. You heard someone say that Medical was on their way, but when you locked eyes with Poe, it was like everyone else completely disappeared. You heard your heart beating in your ears as that familiar warmth started to consume your chest. 

Poe looked into your eyes and saw that same look you saw in his. It was concern and a little something more, but this time, Poe knew exactly what that little something was. It was love. He knew it and now you knew it too.

“Captain,” he said, still using that annoying chill attitude, “come to see me off?” 

You knew it was a joke and that he was talking about Medical guaranteeably grounding him for a while, but it felt too much like death. Tears sprung to your eyes as you thought about losing the love so soon after you finally admitted it. 

“Shut up Dameron,” you commanded with a sad chuckle. You got on the ground to lean in close to Poe’s face. “You’re gonna be fine”.

Poe gave you his infamous smile, warming your whole body once again. You noted the way Poe’s eyes crinkled and nose scrunched up a little bit when he smiled. You wanted to see that face everyday. You wanted to wake up next to that face and jump out of your x-wing just to see that face grinning at you across the hanger. You wanted Poe.

“Careful Gold Leader, someone might think you actually like me,” Poe chided. Poe’s grin grew wider as he saw you break out into a little smirk. He would do anything to see that smile, even if it meant teasing you when just breathing was taking up so much of his energy. 

You reached out to lace your fingers with Poe’s and gave him a little squeeze. Of course you liked him, everyone knew that, but not everyone knew that you loved him. Though if they looked at the two of you sitting there, they’d know immediately. Poe’s eyes were bright, staring deep into your loving ones, both with a wide smile despite the physical pain, your hands now bloody from trying to help as much as you could, and most importantly, the complete bliss of being that near each other. It may have taken you far longer than it should have to admit to yourself that you loved Poe Dameron, but once you did, there was no going back, and honestly, you didn’t want to.

“And what if I wanted someone to know that I love you,” you asked. Your eyes were still so full of love, but your nervous smile gave you away. Poe felt like he was floating; he knew you loved him because he felt it every time you interacted, but finally hearing you say it made his whole world seem better. Poe reached up to cup your face, but pulled back slightly because he didn’t want to get any blood on you, but blood washes off and your love did not, so you leaned your face into his palm, recognizing the radiating care that flowed from all of Poe’s touches.

“Then I would tell someone that I love you too,” Poe’s voice was laced with love and adoration. It made you feel so incredibly warm and fuzzy, loved and supported, and lucky. It may have taken a long time full of bickering and frustration, but Poe Dameron was guaranteeably your best friend, and you were so happy to be in love with him.

As Leia looked onto the scene unfolding in front of her, she knew that you were finally the team you were meant to be. She knew that you would hunt across the galaxy if it meant finding Poe. There would still be bickering and teasing, but that’s where the love began, and at the end of the day, Poe would hold you in his arms and remind you of all the sweet things he loved about you.

[souichioneshots]

Untitled Binzo x Reader Fic

SO uhhhh.... Binzo thinks about the reasons why he hates Y/N so much? IDK you guys are kinda like frenemies ???

This is the stupidest thing ive ever written...

Might make an NSFW continuation of this if anyone shows any interest tho lollll

Enjoy?????

Binzo could remember the day you two first met like it was yesterday.

He had been awoken by the sound of his father and uncle arguing in a nearby room. Although he could barely make out what they were saying, he could tell by the way he was screaming, his father had done something unbelievably stupid again.

As the door to his room slid open, Binzo quickly moved to ‘greet’ the sudden visitor, his chains holding him back just before he was able to reach the door. A smile spread across Binzo's face as he saw his father react in a panicked motion, jumping back to avoid his son's vicious attacks. However, Binzo's laughter was put to a stop when he saw a small figure move behind the older man.

Moving a bit to the side, Souichi revealed a girl, a little under Binzo’s age, who had been hiding behind him the entire time. She gripped onto the back of the false-gentleman’s suit jacket, obviously hesitant to enter the room.

Binzo's eyes widened in surprise as his father insisted, almost pushing her into the room forcefully. His eyes looked the girl up and down, trying to figure out why his father had brought her here, let alone why he decided it would be a good idea to bring her into the same room as him.

Her clothes were almost as tattered as his own. She had no shoes on her feet, but the socks that she wore were stained black with dirt and mud. From what he could see with the little lighting in his room, the exposed skin of her arms and legs were covered in scratches and bite marks. Her cold eyes stared at the pale boy as she walked in cautiously, immediately following the older man to the other side of the room. Binzo could remember how she ran her fingers through his father's greased-up hair as he placed the chains around her ankles. They exchanged a look that his mind could not understand at the time.

Getting up from the dirty floor, Souichi stated that the girl’s name was Y/N. A name so foreign to Binzo that he was sure it was made up.

As soon as his father finally left, Binzo tried to attack you. But, that was when he found out the truth. You were a monster just like him. An abomination that someone must have tried to get rid of, only for his own idiotic father to pick up and bring home like a kitten off the street. You bared your fangs at him as you backed away into the corner, trying to avoid his sudden yet expected attack. Binzo watched as you stayed low on the floor, staring at him with angered eyes.

He should have been happy to finally meet someone like him, but he wasn’t.

Binzo hated you.

You were an idiot. You could barely keep a hold on your victims, and on nights when you couldn’t secure a meal like him, you resorted to trying to catch and eat the bugs that crawled around the room. You were also idiotic enough to try to steal from him. Whenever he would get ahold of someone, you would try to get close and steal a small piece for yourself. Sometimes Binzo would be too busy to realize, but when he did, he would reach out as far as he could and use his long-sharp nails to scratch you away, leaving you to become a crying-hungry mess.

You also had a habit of not responding whenever he spoke to you. However, this was completely his fault. After you finally became comfortable enough to talk to him, he started to tease you, claiming that your voice was annoying and, using a piece of broken glass, threatening to cut out your pretty pink tongue to eat as a snack. From that day on, you didn’t utter a single word to him.

However, as time went by, Binzo started to find your presence to be slightly humorous. Specifically, whenever you tried to feed.

Binzo would always laugh whenever you dug your fangs too deep into someone’s neck and ended up getting completely doused in their blood when you pulled away. He thought it was a waste of a good drink, but worth it to see you freak out as you tried to stop the fast-paced bleeding.

Your hair also grew at an unnaturally fast rate as well. It was disgusting, but fun to pull on whenever he wanted to get your attention. It was also especially fun to watch your victims pull on your hair, stunning you for a moment, and getting a couple slaps and punches in as they tried to get away. But, Binzo wouldn’t allow that, stopping them at the last minute and dragging them back in your direction. However, you would always be too embarrassed and cry, refusing the meal he was kind enough to go after for you.

You were ungrateful. Idiotic. An amateur. Everything he hated bundled up into a small ball that dwelled in the corner of his room.

But on top of all that, the thing he hated the most was how you weren’t here now.

“Where’s Y/N!! Where is she!!” Binzo exclaimed to his physically and mentally exhausted aunt. She just stayed quiet, ignoring the child’s vicious words and actions. If she knew, she would have told him by now, but she didn’t.

Binzo looked around his dark messy room as he tried to think of what might have happened to you. It had been 2 nights since he last saw you.

If you had been moved to another room, he would be able to smell it. But you weren’t. You weren’t anywhere in the house in fact.

Could his father have decided that it was too much for him to support 2 cannibalistic children, and off’d you in the woods while he was sleeping? No way. He was the one who brought you here in the first place, he should have known what he was getting himself into.

Maybe you ran away, not wanting to be held captive and enslaved to work at a lunatic’s haunted house. That would explain why his father was also not around either. Maybe he had gone out in search of his most popular attraction.

No matter the reason, you weren’t here now, and Binzo hated you for that.

As the raven-haired boy finally started to calm down, he laid down in his cage, his eyes fluttered shut, unable to keep their focus on the door of his room anymore.

However, he was suddenly awoken by a loud scream.

It was his aunt. She had left the room, leaving him alone while he was asleep. Her voice was loud, but not angry. It sounded almost cheerful. An emotion he hadn’t heard from her in the longest time.

Binzo jumped to his feet as the door to his room slid open. There stood his father, alone from what he could see, cigar burning away in his mouth as he smiled. Binzo tightly gripped the bars of his cage, a feeling of rage boiled inside him like nothing he had ever felt before.

However, that emotion quickly washed away when he saw a familiar face appear from behind his father.

There you stood. Alive and in one piece.

Just like the first time you two had met, Souichi forced you into the room. Binzo’s eyes looked you up and down as you cautiously walked in. Gripping the hem of the older man's suit jacket, you stared back at the pale boy.

Your hair had been cut, shorter than before. You were also wearing a kimono similar to his aunt. You looked almost like a doll. It was weird how he couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

Binzo watched as his father put the chains around your ankles again, your hand running through his greasy hair. You two exchanged that look he couldn’t understand again.

Binzo barely listened as his father warned him not to fuck up your clothes. As Souichi finally left the room, Binzo put his hands on the lock of his cage and, using his nails, undid it.

Crawling out of the cage, he stood onto his feet and he looked at you. Although he was still only in his early teens, he was starting to grow extremely tall, a gene he inherited from his mother no doubt.

Binzo felt his heart start to race as you looked up at him, your eyes sparkled as they reflected the small amount of light that leaked in the room. It was almost like you were giving him the same look you and his father would often exchange.

Without a word, he forcefully shoved you to the ground. “Stop looking at me!” He exclaimed.

You probably thought he was jealous that his father actually let you go out, got you nice clothes, and even treated you like you were an actual human being. But that was far from the truth. He didn't really mean to push you so hard, but his emotions had gotten the better of him.

Binzo yelled out in pain as you kicked him for pushing you so hard. Just before you could kick him again, he moved to straddle you.

Putting his weight onto your stomach, he held your wrists on both sides of your head. You growled as he brought his face close to your neck and took a deep breath. It had been so long since he smelled your scent. However, this time it was different.

“You smell delicious.” He said in a hungry voice, drool dripping from his lips as he showed you his fanged teeth. You squirmed under him, knowing that he didn’t mean that as a compliment. “I thought my dad killed you. But now I see that he just dolled you up so I can do it myself. Kishishishi!” Twisting your head to the side, you dug your fangs into his arm.

“OW! You bitch!” Binzo screamed as he pulled his arm away from you. His long fingernails left a scratch across your face as he slapped you hard.  

Baring your fangs once more, you pushed him off of you and rushed to get away. However, your chains didn't let you get far.

Binzo grabbed your legs just before you could go any further. His nails dug into the thick fabric that made up your kimono, tearing it a bit as he pulled you closer to him. Flipping you onto your back, he put himself on top of you.

You squirmed in a panic as the boy wrapped his arms and legs around you, restraining you from getting away. Not having eaten anything in a while, you soon became unable to continue fighting with the monstrous boy.

Binzo’s heartbeat slowed down as you started to relax, his body unconsciously trying to mimic the pace at which you breathed. You whined as he tightened his grip on you a bit more, making sure that you wouldn’t try to slip away from him again.

Pressing his head into your hair, he breathed in the new scents that covered your body. The smell of the brand new kimono you wore mixed with the fruity shampoo you had used made him doubt that you were really the same creature he had shared a room with 2 nights ago.

“Where did you go…?” He asked, his words slightly muffled by your hair.

Your body tensed as he dug his nails deeper into the fabric of your clothes, trying to force a reply out of you, but ultimately receiving nothing back.

He hated that you wouldn’t talk to him…

[luimagines]

You React to Him Getting Sick/Injured Part 2

Masterlist

Part 1

This one will included Wild, Legend and Warrior!

Content under the cut!

Wild

Wild came back to camp after hunting with questionable stains on his clothes. It was all over his wrists, all the way up to his elbows. It was all over his chest and it stained the entirety of his left leg. 

Out of curiosity, you poke him as he passes you and quickly retract your hand by how slimey it felt. He pauses at your touch and raises an eyebrow at your actions. “Yes?”

“What on this sweet Earth is that?” You wipe our finger off onto your shirt and try to get the last of the residue off.

Wild blinks and looks down to where you’ve poked. “Oh. I didn’t realize it was that bad. I ran into some chu chu’s. They explode when you kill them. It’s fine.”

“Ok.” You hide your grimace at the information and nod. “Well, you might want to get that cleaned. ...Before it actually stains your clothes and all that.”

“Will do.” He grins and continues through the camp.

You bite your tongue at how the stains look from behind and continue on with your little hand held project.

The hours pass and Wild does eventually change out of his clothes and into some cleaner ones. You don’t know if he actually got around to washing them but you have faith in him to take care of himself.

Wild however, seems to be a little off as the day progresses. It wasn’t that bad in the beginning and was very subtle, but by the time it was time to go to bed, he checked out early and quietly got out of everyone’s way.

You had the second watch for the night and it all seemed normal. No monsters, not threats and all was quiet. Wild kept tossing and turning all night compared how silently he normally slept but it could have easily been a nightmare.

With your heart bleeding for him, you make your way over to him and shake him by his shoulder. “Wild. Wild. Wake up.”

Wild doesn’t open his eyes, his face contorted in discomfort but he does whine at your call. “Is it my watch yet? I was supposed to go after Twilight.”

“Are you ok?”

“I don’t feel good.” He groans and turns away from you, curling up into a fetal position.

You frown and place the back of your hand against his forehead.

It’s burning hot.

“You’re sick. You’re burning up.” You gulp and pull his blanket higher over him. “Don’t worry about your shift. I’ve got it covered.”

“You’re gonna go twice?” Wild is starting to fall asleep again even if he’s trying to  keep a conversation with you.

“I’ll take an extra long watch.” You shrug. You go to move away to go get something to cool him down but you place your hand on his leg by accident.

It’s also burning up.

Now you’re even more concerned.

With Wild no longer being responsive, you move the blanket out of the way and check his leg. You realize he’s only changed out of his shirt and kept the stained pants from earlier. When you roll it up you see a long, shallow cut, right where the chu chu jelly was.

It’s obviously infected.

You bite back the scream of frustration that wants to build up within you and instead go to your pack. You try to find something to help fight the infection and also to help with his fever.

It’s a quiet endeavor as you tend to him. You take care of the leg first and wrap it up with your personal bandage roll. You go to place a wet towel on Wild’s forehead.

You also try to scrounger up a kettle or something similar to make him some tea to help. But at this point you’re a little louder than you’d like and you wake up Hyrule in the process.

Which is fine. Really.

His watch was up next anyway.

“What are you doing?” He rubs his eyes and sits next to you.

“Wild got himself sick because he let a cut get infected.” You sigh. “I’m making him some tea.”

“He’s sick?” Hyrule sits a little taller. “He’s hurt?”

“Not much we can do about it now. Just watch and wait it out.”

“Do you need help?”

You pause what you’re doing and look at him. Wild is actually being very mellow despite his condition, but he could also just be very exhausted from the day and his disease. You need someone to check up on the cut soon and someone to change the towel so he can keep cool. But you also need to keep an eye on the tea so that it doesn’t scorch and you’re pretty sure breakfast is going to fall on you since in the morning since the resident chef is out.

“Yes, I’d like that a lot actually. Thank you.”

Legend

There was nothing out of ordinary with the day but you couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding. Your stomach was up in knots and you had no idea why.

Something bad was going to happen.

You kept looking all around you, trying to spot anything in the distance that would be the cause for your discomfort. But you see nothing.

“Everything ok?” Legend tilts his head. “You’re spinning around like a concerned goffer.”

“I...Don’t feel good.” You admit.

“You can go vomit in the bush. I’ll watch over ya.”

“No, not like that.” You correct him, waving the idea away like a dog fart. “I feel like something bad is going to happen.”

“Why?” He glares at you momentarily. “Why would you tell me this? I was having a good day. Now I’m going to be paranoid with you.”

You snort. “Sorry man. That wasn’t my intention.”

“Well next time, think about it and we’ll have to- AUGGHHH!!” An arrow imbeds itself into Legend’s shoulder, knocking him onto the ground.

More fly after it, two more imbedding themselves into your friend before you’re able to lift up your shield and jump in front of him, blocking any more from injuring him. The shots rain down above you both and you’re forced to hunker down so the that the shield covers you as well.

You look down at Legend as he tries to get up his feet. There’s an arrow in his main shoulder, in his torso and in his thigh. You very quickly notice that he’s collecting a lot of blood on his clothes.

He’s in no condition to fight this.

He’s out before he can get in. 

You groan and try to reach for your weapon. The others are quick to come over and help out. Wild retaliates with his own shots and Twilight and Time are quick to give the two of you cover. 

“Get him out of here!” Time commands over his shoulder.

You nod and put your shield arm down, getting onto your knees and wrapping your arms around the Hero of Legend. 

“I can stand on my own!” Legend snaps at you but he’s too locked with his own pain to do much to fight you off.

You growl at his rapidly growing blood stains and bite the bullet. In one swift move, you’re quick to pick him up bridal style and run away from the chaos.

“Forget about me! The others are going to need your help!”

You put him down behind a large enough tree and kneel next to him. “The others can handle themselves. You’ve lost your dominant arm and are bleeding profusely from three separate locations. I’d argue that you need the help right now.”

“I blame you.” He hisses, leaning back against the tree as you take out your spare health potion. 

“Why?” You keep him talking, making quick work off the arrow in his leg and in his shoulder. “How is this any way my fault?”

“It’s- aaugghh - you’re fault because you- aaugghh-  told me about your stupid accurate gut feeling of doom.” Legend pants and places his good hand by his shoulder. It’s not much but you can tell that he already feel marginally better about not having a piece of flint and a sharp stick stuck inside of him.

You uncork the potion and give it to him. He takes it although his grip is weak and there’s still one more arrow you have to go through before he can drink it.

“I’m not done. Just hold that, ok?” You move aside the folds of his tunic and can feel Legend tense up from underneath your hand. 

“This is going to suck so bad.”

“It’ll be quick, then you drink the potion and you’ll be good as new again.” You take a breath and brace yourself against the arrow and his body, anchoring your weight onto the mossy ground. “On the count of three, ok?”

“I don’t trust you.”

“I don’t think you have a choice.”

“Ok.”

“One.”

Legend curses.

“Two.”

He takes a breath and you pull it you of him. Legend is quick to scream and fill the air with profanities even as you guide the potion to his lips. He drinks out of pure spite and rips himself away from you.

“What happened to three?!” He shouts, potion half gone and dribbling a little down his chin.

“I counted that in my head.” You shrug and begin to dig out a cloth and your water skin.

“I hate you. You suck. That was awful. I’m never speaking to you again.” Legend whines and keeps sipping the potion as you start to clean up the blood to the best of your ability.

“You don’t mean any of that. I know for a fact that you actually love me very much.” You try to grin and ignore how the sounds of battle are continuing on without you.

“I’ll never forgive you.”

“Let the potion do it’s job and then you can talk to me again.” You smirk and shift your weight to get onto your feet.

“Are you going to help the others finally?” He looks up at you, taking deep breath to calm his heart and blood pressure.

You bite your lip and think about it for a moment. “You’re not jumping into that fight.”

“Do you think I can?”

“After that potion, I don’t think I can trust to not do that. I’ll stay here. Someone has to make sure you don’t throw yourself head first into battle.” You take a step and move to sit by Legend’s side behind the tree. “I don’t know about you but Hyrule will have my head if we waste a potion on you, only for you to get hurt again.”

“He wouldn’t. He’s too nice.” 

“Time will though. And I don’t think I’ll survive their collective disappointment.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“All Links need a babysitter.” You counterargue. “It’s like herding cats. I’m staying.”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

A moment passes.

“...Thank you” Legend says it like you’re still fake arguing but you know he’s trying to be genuine.

You hold back a snort and only succeed by a hair thin margin. You copy the tone and grin to yourself. “You’re welcome.”

The others are fine.

Warrior

Warrior was a little more jumpy than you would have given him credit for. You had always considered him calm and collected- if only a little full of himself. But your consolation was that he could put his money where his mouth was. Whatever he claimed he could do- he proved it soon after.

So you let it slide most of the time.

Except for this.

“What is happening right now/” You ask him, eyebrow raised and full of judgement.

“Don’t question it!” He screeches and runs by your side in the opposite direction.

“Charming.” You deadpan. “The Hero of Courage, ladies and gents.”

You sigh and knock your arrow, aiming at the skulltula in front of you. You kill it in a single shot and wait for Warrior to make his reappearance.

“You killed it right?”

“Yes. I did.”

“Ok. Good. Cool. Thank you.” He takes a breath and comes back to your side, dusting the none existent debris from his tunic and scarf. “That’s great. Where do we go from here?” 

“Are you actually afraid of spiders?” You frown and let him lead the way again. “Because this place is bound to be full of them. You shouldn’t be the one to take the lead this time.”

“Really?” He stops mid step to look at you. It’s the most panicked you think you’ve ever seen him.

“Yes.” You snort and move past him. “Just follow me Soldier Boy. It’s bound full of spooky scary scalies.”

“Don’t joke about that please...” Warrior grimaces and falls into step behind you. “Look I’m not afraid of spiders.”

“You’re terrified.”

“OK! No. I just... I just don’t like bugs... or things that can crawl on the wall.... Or just jump down on you with no reason or prior warning.”

“Spiders aren’t bugs actually.” You grin. “They’re arachnids. Only two body segments and eight legs negate anything they would have in the insect category.”

“Thank you for that unnecessary information.”

“It’s not that ba- LINK LOOK OUT!” You scream and are powerless to watch as a blue wizzrobe appears from the ground and fires directly at Warrior.

He’s quick to dodge out of the way but he’s misjudged the distance between him and the attack. While Warrior sends himself careening into the wall, head first, the magic shot goes straight to you and you’re quick to grab your weapon and parry it back in the direction it came from. 

The wizzrobe makes the unfortunate decision to reappear right as it’s sent backwards and is stunned in place with its own magic. You jump over Warrior, who’s now slumped against the wall with a hand on his head, and slice at the magic creature before it shakes off the magical effect.

Your attack unstuns it but it disappears instantly and you’re left alone for the time being.

You don’t have a lot of experience with wizzrobes but you doubt they go down that easily so you stash away your weapon and make a mad dash toward your friend, aiming to make a quick getaway towards the end of the dungeon corridor. “Are you ok?”

“No.” He answer immediately and pulls his hands away. His gauntlets and fingertips are coated in blood and it’s beginning to slowly trickle down his face.

“Why on earth did you do that?” You scold and gently take his hands away, placing your own on his cheek to turn his head ever so slightly to the side to get a better look at it.

“And what would you rather have me do? Get hit by the magic bullet?”

“You didn’t have to ram yourself face first into the wall.”

“I wasn’t trying to.”

You snort and pull your sleeve up, holding it gently in your fist. You brush away his hair and dab at the wound. It’s mostly superficial and you doubt it would scar. But head wounds are always worrisome.

“Well at least you’ll get to keep your pretty looks. Legend would never let you hear the end of it. Your reputation is on the line.” You smile and poke his nose. “It’s nothing serious. Are you ok to keep going?”

“I think so.” He mutters and pushes himself off the wall and back onto his feet.

The wizzrobe comes back in tandem with Warrior’s movements and fires again. Warrior growls and blocks it with his shield. You attack again as it’s stunned and watch as it dissipates into the cloud of purple smoke they all do what they die.

“That was anti-climactic.” You mutter and kick the remaining cloths that it left behind.

“Please don’t temp anything else.” Your companion whines.

“Sorry.”

“I hate this.”

“I know.”

“Let’s go.”

“Ok.” You shrug and lead the way with Warrior quick on your heels and close by. But you don’t want him to go flying into another brick wall for any other reason so you grab his hand and together you walk further into the darkened dungeon.

He’s surprising a bit calmer after that.

Part 3

[somethingwritey]

How is the Rangshi long fic coming? Id love an update on ittttt!

Hello! I'm so glad you're still thinking about my Rangshi fic! It's currently around 20k at the moment—definitely getting a bit carried away!

Because you asked, here's another little out-of-context snippet ;)

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“Do you think the spirits would mind if I assassinated a world leader?”

Jinpa jerked his head up at the question, risking a glance behind him at her. Kyoshi knew she must be a sight to behold, laying out across the wide saddle and staring up at the darkening clouds. In her hands, she opened and closed a fan in time to her pounding pulse.

“I don’t think that’s listed as an Avatar duty,” Jinpa stammered, thoroughly taken aback by her proposal.

“Bummer.”

Jinpa was quiet for a few moments, no doubt trying to edge around the subject towards her reasoning. “I take it that meeting with the Fire Lord went… poorly?”

Kyoshi propped herself up on her elbows to stare him in the face. She hoped he could read how absolutely stupid that question had been. She’d emerged from the Fire Lord’s palace by stomping, causing tiny earthquakes as she marched over to the stables. That should’ve been indication enough.

“He’s out of control.” Kyoshi shivered—Rangi’s absence making itself very apparent just then; she could always be counted on for a little extra warmth while traveling.

Kyoshi went back to staring at the sky.

Zoryu’s words about the Firebender still echoed in her ears, doing more to chill her than the night air ever could. She wished she could put more distance between Rangi and the Fire Lord, despite being hidden away in Yokoya.

For a terrifying moment, she wondered if Zoryu somehow knew. If he could see the girl in her cotton shift, laid out on the infirmary bed with her hands knotted in the sheets. If he had discovered a way to look at the bruises on her face and the way her breath still rattled slightly whenever she breathed. Maybe this whole meeting had been a distraction, a diversion to take Kyoshi away from the infirmary and Rangi. Maybe, it was too late.

“Jinpa!” Kyoshi felt her heart pounding in her ears. “Fly faster!”

She worked herself up as they flew, imagining horrific scenes of injury and destruction—rivaling the iceberg or North Chung-Ling - only this time, it would absolutely be her fault. If anything happened to Rangi, the Flying Opera Company, even Hei-Ran and Atuat, she would be to blame.

Kyoshi gripped the edge of the saddle, her knuckles turning white from the effort. She watched the ground grow closer and closer as Yingyong spiralled into a descent. Her chest tightened with every drop in altitude, and once, she almost slipped over the edge and plummeted the last several feet to the ground.

“Quiet evening.” Jinpa seemed on the whole unaware of her own personal panic. He landed Yingyong with ease and dismounted, walking around the side of the bison to assist Kyoshi like he always did.

She didn’t wait for the monk to make it over to her. She tumbled from the saddle, falling hard onto the ground and scrambling back up to her feet.

“Kyoshi!” he yelled after her in disbelief.

She didn’t turn around, stumbling towards the infirmary to what she knew would be waiting for her. Blindly, she pushed open the door and tripped over the doorway, panting and gasping for air, to find -

No evidence of violence. No ransom note or bodies or trails of blood. Just Hei-Ran and Atuat sitting in a few chairs with bowls of noodles, with the rest of the Flying Opera Company still bedridden, but looking more vibrant than before. Even Rangi looked, on the whole, unchanged, propped up in bed. Someone had even taken the time to put her hair back up in its usual topknot.

“Well,” Hei-Ran said dryly, taking in Kyoshi’s haggard appearance. “Are you being pursued by wolfbats? Lion vultures? Spider snakes, perhaps?”

Kyoshi’s face flushed red, and she tried hard to catch her breath - smoothing down her skirts to remove the ruffles.

“Did the monk get eaten?” Atuat asked calmly, taking another bite of her noodles. Clearly, the two women were enjoying the joke at Kyoshi’s expense.

Rangi covered her mouth, looking as though she was trying to keep a straight face for Kyoshi’s sake and failing at it. Kyoshi glared at her.

“Not you, too.”

A little snort escaped Rangi’s fingers, and her eyes went wide.

“Some bison ride you must’ve had,” Kirmia ventured, surveying Kyoshi’s windswept state. “What did happen to that Airbender of yours?”

Kyoshi gestured out the door. “Probably unsaddling Yingyong,” she told them all, still somewhat out of breath. “I, uh, just needed to check something.”

“The Fire Lord put you on edge?” Hei-Ran put down her bowl of noodles, staring hard at Kyoshi.

She forced herself to look back calmly. The last thing she wanted was to let everyone know that she’d gotten worked up over some unfulfilled threats. And now that she was here, even Kyoshi could tell how stupid she’d been. The infirmary was the safest place for Rangi right now, surrounded as she was by Hei-Ran and Atuat and unable to make any wrong move the Fire Lord could use to justify an attack.

Kyoshi forced a smile, relaxing her shoulders the best she could. “Nothing of the sort.” She tucked her fans back into her belt. “The meeting was simply to confirm what he already knew. Pretty big waste of time, actually.”

Hei-Ran was still studying her skeptically, probably trying to pinpoint the reason for Kyoshi’s sudden change in demeanor. Kyoshi dared to look over at Rangi again.

Her expression mirrored her mother’s, lips slightly pursed and head tilted to the side. If Kyoshi didn’t want Hei-Ran to discover the true nature of her meeting with Zoryu, she definitely didn’t want Rangi figuring it out.

Rangi’s station meant everything to her, and she took her job very seriously. If she knew that her own Fire Lord was pondering possible ways to strip the girl of her life - or worse, her honor - she would lose it.

Kyoshi had already seen how Fire Nation citizens treated their disgraced ranking officials. Hei-Ran had been pitied, patronized, pet like an animal. If anyone were to take that tone with Rangi, well, Kyoshi couldn’t promise that she would be able to keep her Avatar State in check.

“Care for some noodles?” Atuat gestured to her own bowl, holding it up for Kyoshi to see.

There was no way Kyoshi could turn down food. She hadn’t eaten since… well, Kyoshi couldn’t quite remember the last time she’d eaten, and she could feel Rangi staring daggers at her.

“Yeah,” she smiled at Atuat. “Noodles would be great.”

////

It was three days before Rangi was able to stand.

Atuat worked on her the best she could, trying to heal the internal damage caused by Yun. She told Kyoshi that bits of his earth dagger had broken off inside her wound, causing irritation and leaving a large possibility for infection. It didn’t help that Rangi was a terrible patient.

“I can get up,” she kept insisting. “I’m fine!”

When Atuat finally let her try, Rangi leapt at the opportunity, getting to her feet much too quickly and nearly doubling over from lingering stiffness and pain.

“Careful!” Kyoshi cried, hovering nearby. The outburst earned her stares from both Rangi and Atuat.

When Rangi straightened up again—slower this time—Kyoshi could see the imprint of the bandages under her shift - wrapped generously around her torso like battle armor.

“Are you sure she should be doing this?” Kyoshi asked Atuat, probably only fueling Rangi’s determination. “She’s still got bandages on! What if she starts bleeding again? We can try again tomorrow! Or next week!”

“Kyoshi, what’s your problem?” Rangi narrowed her eyes.

She was being far too overprotective, Kyoshi knew. She should back off. Let Rangi manage her own recovery. But even though it was inviting Rangi’s wrath, Kyoshi didn’t want her Firebender’s stubbornness to impede her healing process.

Rangi needed to take it slow. Make sure she didn’t make things worse with her rush to get better. As much as Kyoshi wanted to see her girl back on her feet, she knew it wouldn’t benefit either of them if it happened too quickly.

That’s what Kyoshi told herself as she watched Atuat support Rangi and instruct her to gently raise and lower her arms - stretching out her muscles. Kyoshi just didn’t want Rangi to overextend herself. To tear open her wound. To hurry an infection along. Her concern was born from love and care, not selfishness.

Or cowardice.

As if to poke holes in her reasoning, Hei-Ran entered the tent, arms crossed. “Jinpa told me your meeting with the Fire Lord ended… abruptly.” She glanced over at Atuat and Rangi for the briefest of moments. “Rangi, straighten your shoulders. Injuries don’t excuse bad posture.”

Rangi huffed, but obediently did as she was told. She respected her mother’s authority, whether she liked it or not.

Kyoshi picked her next words carefully. Lying to Hei-Ran was never a good idea, but neither was letting on just how badly the meeting had actually gone. “I think… the messages of both parties had ample time for sinking in.”

The words could’ve come straight from Yun’s mouth—vague with just the right amount of high-brow language. Maybe she wasn’t a hopeless cause after all.

Hei-Ran seemed surprised by the response as well. “I see. And what message did the Fire Lord impart on you?”

Shit.

Kyoshi tried to think on her feet. “Politics,” she said at last. “The importance of… political relations.”

“Sounds like the stuff Jianzhu used to preach,” Rangi offered, crinkling up her nose at the mention of the departed sage.

Hei-Ran sniffed dismissively at the mention of the man who’d nearly poisoned her to death. Kyoshi wondered inwardly if the woman ever mourned Jianzhu, despite everything. He had once been her close companion, after all.

Every one of Hei-Ran’s old friends were gone, she suddenly realized - swallowing hard. Kuruk. Kelsang. Jianzhu. The once-inseparable gang hadn’t stayed that way for very long. Hei-Ran was the sole survivor.

Killed after hunting dark spirits.

Murdered by Jianzhu.

Murdered by Yun. And me.

What terrible fates had been waiting for the previous Avatar team, often at the hands of each other. Was that what waited for her? For Rangi? For Wong and Kirimia? Was every Avatar doomed to bring failure and annihilation to the people who loved them most?

“Atuat,” she said sharply, turning to look at Rangi who’d made good progress accompanied by the Waterbender. “That’s enough for today.”

“Yes, Avatar.”

As Atuat moved to help Rangi back to bed, Rangi protested - an angry haze settling over her face as she watched Kyoshi move towards the door.

“What?” Rangi twisted in Atuat’s grip, trying to break free, to run after her. “Who let her call the shots around here? Kyoshi, don’t you dare walk away from me! I’m not through talking about this!”

Kyoshi didn’t turn around. She couldn’t.

“Fine! Go clear your head! See if I care!”

And then Kyoshi made it out of earshot.

She would delay Rangi’s recovery as long as she possibly could, drag it out until the spirits themselves were begging the Firebender to get back on her feet. Because at least here in the infirmary, tucked away in Yokoya, she had people to keep her safe. She couldn’t get herself thrown into another life-threatening situation while she was still recuperating from the last one.

Kyoshi wouldn’t be the reason for Rangi’s obliteration.

And neither would Zoryu.

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